#warnings for suicide threat and assault

[shaisuki]

𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦

ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru

content warnings college au, heavy bullying, gaslighting, noncon, dubcon, implied sexual assault, allusions to depression/suicide, alcohol consumption, drinking, implied drugging, fatphobia, overdosing, naoya zen'in is an asshole, humiliation, threats, minor oc character. dead dove do not eat.

notes this might come as disappointing since some of you wanting revenge what this two idiots had done to reader. their are some matters that i think is too complicated and impossible so i came with this way as the breaking point where reader starts to retaliate/plan her revenge. will get to it later and to that anon, who asked for the revenge, i will get once i start to finish this one up. please read the warnings, i don't want someone bitching in the comments telling me that the contents above is uncool. it truly is not cool. that's why it have warnings. it is on a fictional context. do read the warnings before continuing. also do let me know of what you think of this chapter.

read part one, here. two here.

SERIES MASTERLIST

synopsis you let them take and take what they can from you. you were a nobody after all but everybody have their breaking point.

the world is a blur to you. colors of red and blue dances in your vision while voices whispers to you. what's happening? you can't move. it's like your body were made of lead. you can't understand what they were saying. multiple faces stares at you, are you dead? is this what you see when people surround you while they lower your casket. is it? you hope it was, cause you didn't plan on living anymore. there's nothing worth moving forward and the world around you turns black.

there's a beep and then silence. you hear before you see and when you opened your eyes, all you can see is a bright light above you. it took you minutes to adjust your vision and realize where you are. you're in a hospital. laying on a bed and you started to get irritated at your oxygen mask. you tug at it. getting frustrated why it keeps coming back at you before someone put their hand on it. completely removing it and there you breath. your sight darted to the hand who helped you until your sight travels to his arms and then to his face. a brief recognition flashes through you.

“nanami?” you call his name unsure but you know it was definitely him. it was hard to mistake him for someone. there's his blonde hair, neatly parted. his pristine beige sweater paired a dark colored trouser, not a crinkle in sight and his signature silver watch in his wrist. you met him once at the literature club and decided you were going to be there too not until it changed due to some circumstances. his lips parted but before he can speak, a cheery voice interrupted him.

“she's awake!?” said haibara, you also knew him since he and nanami were always together. seeing your confused state, his voice died down. “what happened?” you asked them and they exchanged looks before haibara answers you.

“we found you passed out in the lawn. thought you were drunk but you weren't breathing.” haibara's voice was soft while he slowly breaks down the reason why you ended up here.

a doctor comes inside to your room before haibara can finish. you took note of her pristine white coat with her surname embroidered on it. clicking her pen and whipping out her clipboard she pulled out of nowhere. you were distracted by it. the doctor's eyes is on you now and you began to frown.

the doctor coughs clearing her throat before speaking. “hello, ms. (y/n). i'm glad you're awake now.” noticing your confused expression she pauses began answering the question. “to answer your question you were unconscious for two days and is brought for possible assault. we need your con—”

“no!”

“ms. it would help for you t—”

“you heard me!? i said no!” you scream at the doctor and your tears appeared in your eyes. you didn't realize you were screaming. nanami and haibara stand there in silence but the looks on their face said otherwise. concern painted in their faces and the doctor bows before leaving. looking at the men inside in your room to call her if you need anything.

cause if they would test you, they would find the remains of their sperm inside you and then report? who will believe you? it would be buried like the case of another girls like you who were too afraid nor fight their abusers. you don't find the point of that. they would twist the words out of you. it was easy to believe than you.

you curled up in bed and did the next thing you can. cry. now, you're in here and the events before this plays in your head in repeat.

“f-fuck”

satoru curses out while suguru bites your ear. your body like jello as they spilled their load for the nth that day. both of them lowered your body after fucking your brains out. warm up, they say. you shiver as you feel their cum running down your thighs. feeling disgusted as it began to stick after being exposed to the air. you grab the wipes but suguru stopped you, grabbing it from your hands and cleaning you up. fixing your skirt in the meantime.

“worth every penny.” suguru mutters. staring at the new clothes they bought for you. a baby blue corseted puff-sleeved, square neck top matched with a black skirt that rests on your mid thigh is what they forced you to wear. it feels tight. intentionally buying it one size smaller than you usually wore and it more feel you like a stuffed sausage rather a comfortable piece of clothing. you can't say no to what they wanted. you're a bit of grateful that they allowed you to wear your white sneakers rather than those kitten heels that would put your feet in blisters.

satoru's fingers brushes through the expanse of your exposed flesh. playing with the small bow in your top. sighing, “suguru, can we have more with (y/n)-chan?” his best friend chuckles at him. “idiot, we're already running late, after that we can.” satoru pouts. “tch, party pooper.” he ignores gojo and moves his attention to you.

“smile, this is your first real party. you're going to enjoy this.” suguru lifts your chin up with his finger and you obediently nodded. “ditch and you know what will happen.” he warns.

it was a bad idea. the moment you stood in the front door. the party was already in motion. you can hear the people inside shouting profanities and booming music mixed with already drunk frat members and student bodies. this was never really your crowd and when you were shoved inside with gojo and geto you were done and you already felt like crying. you look at the duo in front of you. they were already engaged in conversation with the other people here.

“gojo, you son of a bitch. you fucking came.” a guy hollered in the side and you see more of his features as he gets nearer. a snarl in his face with multiple piercings in his ear. a hair dyed blonde with green accents.

“ah, zen’in. wouldn't missed this just i could wipe that smirk off your face.” gojo mocks him and before the guy whom gojo called zen’in darts his sight to you. he raises a brow. “you two in fat bitches now?” pointing at you with hand cupping a plastic cup. gojo scoffs. “none of your business, zen'in.” glaring at him but he can't see that gojo's looking at him with dark glasses in the way. “then you two wouldn't mind me using her.” he suggested and suguru gaze darkens at him. “fuck off, naoya.” almost growling at naoya and the latter raises his hand in mock defeat before finding shit he could entertain himself with.

suguru scowls after naoya left, he looks at you like you just turned his mood sour. “you're an embarrassment.” he says and you bit your lip. keeping the tears at bay and you don't really want to embarrass yourself more at this party. “hey, hey suguru.” gojo taps his shoulder. “let loose, don't naoya get to you.” satoru glances at you. his blue eyes peering in his glasses. “you're right.” his stare cold at you. “find a seat, (y/n). you're embarrassing us now with you around.” you nod and you find yourself in a vacant corner. near to those already wasted or just plain chilling in the couch in front of you.

what did you expect? that were all sex talk or when they're in good mood. all those praise and compliments are just enough to feel you good about yourself for a bit and then they'll come destroying it. you stare at the view through the window. the night's particularly beautiful and peaceful except the place you're in and you're already missing the comfort of your bed.

you take a sip from your cup. a girl gave it you earlier saying that it's a special concoction that's only made at this parties. unsure you took it. not wanting to show ungratefulness to someone whose only been polite to you and she seems nice. you cringe slightly at the taste and the burning of the liquid as it flows down your throat. coughing you bring down the cup, not used to drinking.

your first time being a party, your eyes wander how your peers lost their selves in the influence of alcohol. some where dancing and mingling. talking like they were friends and you caught of others taking their business upstairs. you were kind of jealous how everyone are the life of the party and you sit here in your misery. you continue to observe everyone and you caught gojo. it's impossible to miss his tall stature and his white hair standing in the crowd. a petite woman is linked to him. her thin arms are wrapped around his neck and it was clear what they were doing. there they stood in the crowd. kissing.

“satoru.” gojo was taking a swig of his drink when a girl approached him. calling his name like they were lovers but it was more like an ex-fling. never had a relationship with her. she was only a temporary fun. “ah, sar—ah, sayuri.” he almost curses at himself. sayuri playfully pouts at him and there it is, the batting of eyelashes. “that's mean, satoru. you already forgot me.” her lips puckers before placing a hand in his chest. if this was a another party of gojo and he really liked this girl. he would have taken her upstairs. he caught you in the corner. you were like a child in awe at the people in this house. gojo almost chuckles at your cute antics but suppressed it and then a cruel idea pops in his mind. “missed me?” he asks sayuri and there was no answer needed as he crashes his lips to sayuri. his sight never leaving yours and when you caught him. he watch as your eyes widens, you lower your head in embarrassment before chugging that drink in your cup in one swig. he smirks in the kiss as he watches you wiped your tears away. he always liked making you cry.

you should have ditched this stupid party, even it means getting punished by those again. you were hurt. they always like to torture you. listen as they tell you how worthless and unlovable you are while they keep girls who are clearly not you by their side. those girls were perfectly fit for them to be seen in public and you were there for them to humiliate you. with your head lowered, you stifled a sob. wiping your tears with your hands shaking. they kept flowing and you kept messily wiping them and with that you slowly made your way outside. discreetly making your way through the door and you almost laugh. you were a nobody. you're not made for pretty things and this goddamn outfit you wore only added to your misery. you never felt beautiful and it looks ugly on you. wrapped a sausage with a different and it will still look the same.

no one noticed you leaving except for suguru's watchful gaze.

suguru finds his friend making out with a girl he definitely doesn't remember. suguru slaps his back and satoru broke the kiss. wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and ignores the girl he was just making out seconds ago. suguru points the door where you left earlier. you're really looking for trouble and with that they left following you.

sayuri was stunned being shoved aside again. she was angry. how the fuck did you get those two's attention especially gojo's? she's beautiful. she's thin. academically excelling and you, a fat nobody bitch easily made those two fall for you. she knows they were just playing at you and sayuri could take it but being shoved again by satoru isn't what she expected tonight. she's going to be satoru's bride. it was decided from the start and satoru knows it. their fathers friends since their college days had made a decision to marry their son and daughter before they were even born and she did everything she can just to have satoru's attention but why can't she even get to look at her without her trying. it's your fault. it's your fucking fault! you deserve to die. you're fucking stupid for accepting that drink like you're a fucking saint and now, maybe you'll rethink your choices of making those your own and satoru will only have his eyes for her and only her.

weird. why are your hands sweating? it's cold. freezing cold. you know this temperature at night is normal but why are you freezing cold. hah, your vision's starting to get funny too. where there always stars in the sky? ahh, i want to go home. i wonder if akira's still awake. i didn't told her that i was going away tonight. my eyes hurt. you were crying. this was your thoughts as you walked away.

it was to easy to catch you with their long strides. satoru grabs your flabby arm angrily. “we told you, you don't leave without us. do you really want to get punished, (y/n)-chan?” his voice snarky as he digs his nails in your arms. it hurts. it really must really hurt but you're suddenly numb to feel anything. you just stare at him in confusion and then you hear voices. they were calling them to get back.

gojo scowls at them. your knees buckled and you sat in the ground. geto tsked. “we're going back to you later.” he says and they left you there and there were loud cheers. you lay there in the ground. numb and your vision fades away.

you blinked as you stare in the nothingness. that's what you last remembered. they left you there and you hoped you died. you can't take another bullshit of what they put you through. the tears continuously flows from your eyes and your blanket is wet with tears. haibara puts a comforting hand in your shoulder and you bursted crying again. this was the real kindness you felt since the accident. they didn't blame you. they only stayed and made sure you were resting enough. stranger they maybe or an acquaintance. you would never forget this kindness from them.

days. nights. you stayed in the hospital until you were cleared. you made nothing of what happened to you. putting it in the records as an allergic reaction in which the hospital agreed. just like that even when you're in the brink of death of what happened to you. if you took the procedure for assault. they would be guilty but it was days old now and bruises are left in your skin as nothing but reminders of the humiliation of what they did to you.

for now, you're going to cry. cry until there's nothing left to cry for.

[hoshifighting]

"S" on My Chest, 'Cause I'm Ready to Save Him

— Synopsis: Amidst the chaos of your world, you found Seungcheol, a man with gummy smile who melted the icy walls around your heart. But just when things were heating up between you two… You find out he's from a rival mafia, all thanks to a tattoo on his back. And you have to protect him. — WARNINGS: Smut, angst, mafia, oral (f. receiving), pussy slapping, unprotected sex, begging, manhandling, penetrative sex, dirty talk, lies, crying, threat of suicide, violence, organized crime, betrayal and etc. — WC: 7.1k — Reader! Mafia X Seungcheol! Enemy Mafia

You, the underboss of a powerful mafia syndicate. Born into a legacy of organized crime, you inherited the reins of power from your father, stepping into a world where loyalty was currency, and trust was a rare gem amidst the sea of deceit.

For years, you navigated the treacherous waters of the underworld with precision and cunning, your focus solely on the tasks at hand, your heart shielded behind walls of steel. Love was a concept long forgotten, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. You had grown so selective, so cautious, that even the notion of such an emotion seemed foreign, a distant memory fading into the abyss of your past.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

Enter Seungcheol - a beacon of light in the darkness, his presence like a breath of fresh air in the smoky haze of your existence. With his dark locks and a gummy smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts, he sauntered into your life like a whirlwind, disrupting the carefully constructed walls you had built around yourself.

At first, he was just a familiar face at your favorite bar, a friendly ear amidst the chaos of your world. He listened to your frustrations with genuine interest, his empathy a balm to your weary soul. Slowly but surely, he wormed his way into your life, becoming not just a friend, but a confidant, a pillar of support in a world where trust was a rare commodity.

Before you knew it, Seungcheol had captured your heart a year ago, his unwavering devotion breaking down the barriers you had so meticulously erected. He showered you with affection, his gestures grand and heartfelt - bouquets of flowers that filled your home with their sweet fragrance, extravagant dinners where laughter flowed freely, and nights filled with excitement and passion.

[...]

As Seungcheol's hips moved with effortless rhythm, igniting waves of pleasure that coursed through your body, you clung to him desperately, as if afraid he might slip away into the night. Your arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him closer, your heart pounding in sync with his as your chests pressed together in a passionate embrace.

Locked in each other's gaze, your eyes spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never capture. And as the pleasure surged through you like a tidal wave, you couldn't help but moan his name over and over again, each syllable a fervent prayer on your lips.

In the midst of ecstasy, Seungcheol's voice, husky and filled with desire, intertwined with yours in a seductive dance of words.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he trailed kisses along your neck. "You love it when I make you feel this good."

His words sent shivers down your spine, your body responding eagerly to his touch as he continued to tease and tantalize you with his dirty talk.

"Tell me how much you want it," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me how badly you want to cum."

Your breath hitched in your throat, your words tumbling out in a fevered rush as you surrendered to the pleasure he offered.

"I need you" you gasped, your voice raw with desire. "I need you to make me yours, to make me cum until I can't think of anything else but you."

As Seungcheol continued his relentless assault on your senses, driving you to the brink of oblivion, your body responded with fervor, your walls clenching around him in a powerful crescendo of pleasure. Lost in your orgasm, you could feel the sheets beneath you grow damp with the evidence of your cum.

His hips stuttered against yours, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he sought solace in your embrace. In that moment of pure bliss, there were no words, no thoughts, only the raw, primal connection between you and him, binding you together in an unbreakable bond of desire and need.

As you slipped out of bed to freshen up in the bathroom, leaving Seungcheol to bask in the warmth of the sheets, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the chaos of your life outside these walls, here, in this moment, everything felt right.

As you returned to the room, your heart fluttered with anticipation, eager to reunite with Seungcheol after your brief absence. But as your eyes fell upon his form, lying face down on the bed, a smile playing on his lips, your breath caught in your throat.

Something was different.

With hesitant steps, you approached him, the smile on your face faltering as you noticed the new addition to his soft skin - a tattoo etched into his flesh, unmistakably belonging to your rival mafia. Your blood ran cold, a shiver coursing through your entire being as the implications of his inked allegiance sank in.

Tentatively, you reached out to touch his back, your fingers tracing the lines of the tattoo with a mixture of disbelief and dread. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to flee from the danger that now lay before you, but you were rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from the damning mark.

Seungcheol's smile faded as he caught sight of your expression, confusion flickering in his eyes before realization dawned. He rose from the bed, his movements slow and cautious, as if afraid to startle a wild animal.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he reached out to you, his hand outstretched in a gesture of comfort.

But you flinched away, your entire body trembling with fear and uncertainty. How could you have been so blind, so naive to trust someone who bore the mark of your enemy?

"I... I didn't mean for you to find out like this," he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "But please, you have to believe me. I'm not who you think I am. I love you, and I would never betray you."

"You knew... you knew who I was all this time..." you breathed out, your voice trembling with a mixture of shock and betrayal. Stepping back, you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed in a way that Seungcheol had never made you feel before.

As he took a step closer, his expression fraught with concern, you couldn't help but recoil, the weight of his deception heavy upon your shoulders.

But Seungcheol shook his head vigorously, his eyes filled with sorrow as he attempted to calm the storm brewing within you. "No, Y/N, I didn't know at first" he pleaded, his voice cracking. "I swear, I only found out after we were already together."

Your mind raced, trying to reconcile his words with the truth that now lay bare before you. Could you believe him? Your job was no longer to play with dolls in beautiful pink dresses, in which they found her dream prince. Now, any relationship you get involved in would have its consequences.

Feeling vulnerable and exposed, you hugged yourself tighter, your gaze locked with his as you searched for any hint of deceit. But all you found was genuine remorse and a desperate sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings.

Tears welled up in your eyes, finally breaking free in a choked sob as you hastily reached for your clothes, your hands trembling. Seungcheol felt the desperation pulsing through his veins, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain.

He reached out to touch your arm, a gesture of comfort born out of instinct, but you flinched away, your voice trembling as you pleaded with him to refrain. "Please... don't touch me." you whispered, your words a knife to his heart as you recoiled from his touch.

Seungcheol's hand fell limply to his side, the weight of your rejection crushing him with its intensity. You had always craved his touch, sought out his warmth and affection with a hunger that matched his own, and now to see you pull away from him like this was more than he could bear.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as tears began to trail down his cheeks, mirroring the pain in your eyes. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you."

You continued to dress yourself in silence.

With a heavy heart, he watched as you prepared to leave, the realization dawning on him that he may never see you again. The thought was like a dagger to his soul, piercing him with a pain that cut deeper than any blade.

"I love you," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to you one last time, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Please... don't go."

But as you turned away, the tears in your eyes reflecting the agony in his own, Seungcheol knew that it was too late. The damage had been done.

Breathless and heartbroken, you dashed through the empty streets, the sound of your own footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. Each stride felt like a dagger to your soul, the weight of betrayal heavy on your shoulders as you raced towards your home.

Arriving at last, you wasted no time in summoning your most trusted hacking team, their expertise your only hope in unraveling the truth of Seungcheol's identity. With trembling hands, you guided them through the labyrinth of digital defenses, your heart pounding in your chest as you awaited the results.

And then, there it was - displayed on the screen in stark black and white, irrefutable evidence of Seungcheol's treachery. Not only did he belong to your rival mafia, but he was the very owner, the puppet master pulling the strings behind the scenes.

As the days passed, you heard a distant conversation between your dad and his henchmen. About this gang, the name matching the tattoo of the person you loved the most. The plan would be to meet the leader in an empty warehouse near one of the least busy streets in the metropolis. And that was enough for you to not even want to hear the rest. 

You were going against your own laws, days passed after the incident. But his death was the last thing you wanted. And you knew what your dad was capable of.

Seungcheol's attempts to reach out to you came in waves, a relentless barrage of emails, messages, and calls that served as a constant reminder of the love you craved every day. Despite your best efforts to block him out, he persisted, his promises of redemption and declarations of undying love echoing in your ears like a haunting melody.

Despite the pain that still lingered within you, you knew that you had to push forward, to be the strong, capable woman that your role in the mafia required you to be.

With each calculated move, each careful step, you reaffirmed your commitment to your role within the organization, knowing that nothing could repair the wounds that had been inflicted upon your heart. But even as you buried yourself in your work, the memory of Seungcheol being in danger lingered in the recesses of your mind.

[...]

As you walked with a heavy heart, a gun gripped tightly in your trembling hand, you knew that you were treading dangerous ground. Your father had warned you countless times to steer clear of this mission, but the nagging feeling in your gut told you that you couldn't ignore it - not when the safety of someone so dear to you hung in the balance.

The air was thick with tension as you prowled through the dimly lit alleyways, your senses on high alert as you navigated the maze of crumbling buildings and shadowed corners. The mission weighed heavily on your mind, the stakes higher than ever as you ventured deeper into enemy territory.

And yet, despite the pain, you remained focused on the task at hand, determined to see it through to the end.

Entering in a big empty shed, suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the empty place, alerting you to the presence of another. Instinctively, you reached for the gun tucked at your waist, your muscles tensing as you prepared for a confrontation.

And then, he stepped into view - Seungcheol, his eyes widening in surprise as he locked gazes with you, the shock evident on his face. "Y/N, this is dangerous shit. What are you doing here?" 

"What is it? Didn't you already know this was my job?" Your damn pride now decided to speak louder.

"Y/N, please... you have to listen to me" he pleaded, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

"Tell me why I should trust you," you demanded, your voice laced with anger and hurt. "After you've hidden everything, why should I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?"

"I knew... I knew about your identity," he admitted, his voice strained with regret as he looked at you with eyes filled with pain. "But I didn't know from the beginning. I swear, Y/N, I didn't."

His words hung heavy in the air between you, a silent admission of guilt and regret that echoed in the depths of your soul. And as he continued to speak, his voice raw with emotion, you couldn't help but listen, despite the chaos that raged around you.

"I was alone," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Commanding this and that, but always alone. And you... you were my comfort, my solace. You were the embrace at the end of the day that I craved more than anything."

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy blanket, the realization dawning on you that perhaps there was more to his deception than met the eye. And as you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth reflected back at you - the fear, the loneliness, the desperate longing for connection that had driven him to keep his secrets buried deep within.

His eyes seemed redder than normal, his dark circles were deep, and you noticed his hands shaking in his pockets. How much you were missed in his life, showing physically in him too. And you don't think it's very different from you.

"I was afraid" he confessed, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "Afraid to tell you, because I knew that sooner or later, this would be your reaction. And I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of losing the one person who meant everything to me."

And then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room as people entered, forming a circle around you. Among them was your father's team, your dad's trusted compatriots who now stood before you with a mixture of concern and determination etched on their faces.

One of them, your father's longtime partner, stepped forward, his voice grave as he addressed you. "Y/N, you need to leave," he said, his words ringing in your ears like a death knell. "Or else you'll be at risk."

But before you could protest, Seungcheol stepped forward, his expression desperate as he pleaded with you to listen. "Y/N, please," he implored, his voice cracking with emotion. "You have to leave. You can't do this."

You turned to him, your heart aching with the weight of the decision before you.

And then, without hesitation, you raised your gun, pointing it at your own team, who looked at you with shock and disbelief.

Seungcheol's eyes widened in horror as he realized what you were about to do. "No, Y/N, stop!" he cried out, his voice filled with desperation.

But you were beyond reason, consumed by a fierce determination to protect the man you loved at any cost. And as you stood there, gun in hand, facing down your own team, you knew that the line between loyalty and betrayal had blurred beyond recognition.

As your father appeared amidst the confusion, his eyes widened in shock at the scene unfolding before him. The sight of you, tears streaming down your face, with a gun pointed at your own team, was a stark contrast to the composed, capable operative he had always known you to be.

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air as your father took in the gravity of the situation. It had been years since he had seen you cry like this, It was probably while you were still a child, years since you had allowed yourself to show such vulnerability in front of him. And the sight of his child in such distress made his heart ache with a pain he couldn't bear. "What the hell are you doing, Y/N?" he demanded, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Put the gun down, now."

You hesitated, torn between the love you felt for Seungcheol and the loyalty you owed to your father and the team. But before you could respond, Seungcheol stepped forward, his presence a reassuring weight against your back.

But before you could respond, Seungcheol spoke up, his voice filled with urgency. "Y/N, please," he pleaded, his grip on you tightening. "You have to let me go. I can't bear to see you put yourself in danger like this."

He was afraid that you wouldn't be able to bear the weight of the consequences, that the burden of his actions would crush you beneath its weight.

But you refused to let him go, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. For in that moment, Seungcheol was more than just a lover – he was your anchor amidst the storm, the one person who had stood by you through thick and thin. The only person who didn't disappear when he discovered his true identity.

"Dad, please," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "You don't understand."

But your father's expression remained resolute, his eyes flickering with concern as he took in the scene before him. "I don't care what your reasons are," he replied firmly. "Violence is not the answer."

"Dad, I know violence isn't the answer," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears still streaking down your cheeks. "But you have to understand, if I leave now, they're going to kill him. Don't act like you don't know what they're capable of, because I've seen it firsthand."

Your father's expression softened slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features as he took in your words. He may not have agreed with your methods, but he couldn't deny the truth of what you were saying.

As the tension reached its breaking point, you felt the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. With the sound of your father's henchmen cocking their guns ringing in your ears, you knew that you were running out of time.

"I would do everything for him, Dad," you said, your voice unwavering despite the fear pulsing through your veins. "And when I say everything, I mean everything."

With trembling hands, you raised your gun and pressed it against your own temple, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked around at the worried faces of those around you. "If anyone moves," you declared, your voice steady, "I will kill myself."

The room fell into a shocked silence, the air heavy with the weight of your words. Even Seungcheol, who stood frozen in disbelief, felt his heart plummet at the sight of you in such a precarious position. Holding your jacket with the intention of making you give up.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as everyone processed the gravity of the situation. Your father's henchmen hesitated, their guns wavering as they exchanged uncertain glances. And amidst the chaos and confusion, you remained resolute, your finger poised on the trigger, ready to follow through on your desperate threat.

Your team knew that your death would spell the end of everything, that your father would never forgive them for letting it come to this.

"Dad," you began, your voice quivering, "you know I've never asked anything for myself. It's never mattered to me how much money we had or what position we held. But this... this is the only thing I'm asking you for."

Your father's expression softened, his features reflecting the turmoil of emotions swirling within him. Now he knew the depth of your love for Seungcheol, and he understood the lengths you were willing to go to protect him. After all, your dad had never seen you in love before. He observed the way Seungcheol, the mafia leader who needed to be cold enough to bear with leadership, held you tight, afraid to lose you, his own eyes reddened from the tears that hadn't stopped since.

For a moment, the room fell into a heavy silence, the tension palpable as everyone waited for your father's response. And then, with a resigned sigh, he nodded slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and understanding.

"I'll do what I can," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you have to promise me one thing, Y/N. Promise me that you'll put the gun down."

His words hung in the air, a solemn reminder of the gravity of the situation. And as you looked into your father's eyes, you knew that this was your only chance to save Seungcheol.

With a trembling hand, you lowered the gun, the weight of it slipping from your grasp as you stepped back, the tears still flowing freely down your cheeks. As the tension in the room began to dissipate, your father's authoritative voice cut through the stillness, commanding everyone to lower their guns. With a collective sigh of relief, the henchmen complied, their weapons lowering to their sides as the standoff came to an end.

With the immediate threat diffused, you turned around, your heart heavy with emotion as you sought solace in Seungcheol's comforting embrace. Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you buried your face in his shoulder, allowing yourself to release the pent-up emotions that had been building within you.

Seungcheol held you tightly, his arms a reassuring anchor amidst the storm of emotions that raged within you. In that moment, the walls you had erected around your heart crumbled, allowing your vulnerability to flood forth like a rushing river.

And as you cried like a baby in his arms, Seungcheol held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he too allowed himself to be vulnerable in your presence. Together, you shared a moment of raw emotion, a testament to the depth of your love and the strength of your bond.

Meanwhile, your father stood nearby, his expression a mixture of relief and contemplation as he observed the scene before him. Wiping his forehead with his hand, he took in the gravity of the situation, the weight of his daughter's love for Seungcheol weighing heavily on his heart.

In that moment, amidst the chaos and the turmoil, your father realized that he couldn't ignore the truth any longer. The love you and Seungcheol were sharing behind his back, was undeniable, and he knew that he would do whatever it took to protect it, even if it meant going against everything he had ever believed in.

As the tension eased and the henchmen filed out of the room under your father's silent command, a heavy silence settled over the empty space, leaving only you, Seungcheol, and your father standing amidst the remnants of the standoff.

The sound of footsteps echoing against the cold, concrete walls served as a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation that had just unfolded. Your father's expression remained inscrutable as he turned to face the two of you, his gaze lingering on the intertwined figures of you and Seungcheol.

Once they were gone, your father turned his attention to Seungcheol, his expression unreadable as he addressed the mafia leader. "Where are your henchmen?" he asked, his tone measured but tinged with curiosity.

Seungcheol met your father's gaze squarely, his own eyes unwavering as he replied, "I came alone, sir."

Your father's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, a mixture of confusion and concern crossing his features. "Why would you do that?" he questioned, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. "Putting yourself in danger like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he looked at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Because I knew Y/N's father was here," he explained, his voice steady. "And I didn't want to risk any violence, not when her family is involved."

Your father's gaze softened, a hint of admiration shining through as he regarded Seungcheol. "I see," he said, his tone reflecting a newfound respect for the man standing before him. "That's quite a risk you took, Seungcheol. But I appreciate your efforts to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

Seungcheol nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as he received your father's approval. "Thank you, sir," he replied, his voice humble. "I just want what's best for Y/N, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

Your father's gaze softened as he took in the sight of your swollen eyes and trembling form, the toll of the intense standoff evident in every quiver of your body. With a gentle hand, he placed it on your head, a silent gesture of comfort and reassurance.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with paternal concern, "you need to rest. It's been a long night, and you've been through a lot."

You nodded weakly, the exhaustion washing over you like a tidal wave. Despite the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, the weight of the events that had unfolded left you feeling drained and emotionally spent.

Turning to Seungcheol, your father's expression softened even further. "Take care of her," he instructed, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude. "She's been through enough tonight."

Seungcheol nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting a sense of determination as he took your hand in his. "I will," he promised, his voice steady. "I'll make sure she gets some rest."

[...]

As you stepped through the door, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, the tension of the night slowly beginning to ebb away.

Without a word, Seungcheol guided you to the couch, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as he led you to sit down. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver of comfort through you, easing the ache that lingered in your bones.

As you settled onto the couch, Seungcheol disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a blanket and a steaming mug of tea. He draped the blanket over your shoulders, his touch gentle and reassuring, before handing you the mug with a soft smile.

"Drink this," he said softly, his voice laced with concern. "It'll help you relax."

As Seungcheol sat beside you, his gaze filled with concern, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the tension that lingered between you. With a hesitant voice, he broached the subject that had been weighing on his mind since the events of the night unfolded.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness

"I'm not mad, Seungcheol," you began, your voice soft but steady. "I'm just... confused."

Seungcheol nodded, his expression filled with empathy as he listened intently. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle. "I know I've kept things from you, and I'm sorry for that."

You sighed, the frustration and uncertainty of the situation bubbling to the surface. "I just don't understand why you didn't tell me sooner," you admitted.

Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle. "But I want you to know that I never meant to keep anything from you. I just... I didn't know how to tell you."

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "I know," you said quietly. "And I forgive you. But moving forward, I don't want there to be any more secrets between us." 

Seungcheol nodded solemnly, his eyes locking with yours in a silent promise. "I agree," he said, his voice firm. "No more secrets. I'll tell you everything, I promise."

The sincerity in his words washed over you like a wave, easing the tension that had settled between you. And as you talked, the conversation flowed freely, the walls between you crumbling away as you laid bare your fears and insecurities.

"It's just... I miss you, Seungcheol," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I miss us. The way things used to be."

Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, his heart aching at the pain he had caused you. "I miss it too," he confessed, his voice filled with longing. "I miss being able to be completely open with you, to share everything without reservation."

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of love and frustration that threatened to overwhelm you. "I love and hate how you bring out this side of me," you admitted, chuckling. "The side that's open-hearted and vulnerable, that shows my feelings like a teenager in love."

Without another word, you reached out, pulling him close by his neck and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Seungcheol leaned into the kiss, his own desire evident in the way he responded, but before things could escalate further, he pulled back, his expression conflicted.

"Y/N, we... we should take things slow," he said gently, his voice tinged with regret. "You've been through a lot tonight, and you need to rest."

But you shook your head, your eyes darkening with desire as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent plea for more. "I'm not tired, Seungcheol," you whispered, your breath mingling with his. "Not when I'm with you."

As Seungcheol pulled you onto his lap, a surge of desire coursed through your veins, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both. His hand tangled in your hair, sending shivers down your spine as he pressed you down onto his throbbing cock.

Desperation fueled your movements as you eagerly tugged at the hem of his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the fabric in your haste to rid him of the barrier between you. With a husky laugh, Seungcheol obliged, lifting his arms to allow you to peel the shirt from his toned torso. 

The sight of his bare chest sent a rush of heat to your core, the muscles rippling beneath his skin a tantalizing invitation that you couldn't resist. Your hands roamed greedily over his chest, tracing every contour and dip as you reveled in the feel of him beneath your fingertips. "You're so eager, aren't you?" he teased, his voice husky with desire. "But don't worry, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

Seungcheol's laughter echoed in the room, a sound that only served to fuel your desire further. With a hungry growl, you leaned in to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongues dancing in a passionate tango as you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.

As you continued to grind your clothed core against Seungcheol's throbbing cock confined within his jeans, the intensity of your arousal reached new heights. The sensation was so intense that you had to break the kiss, letting out a low, guttural moan that reverberated against Seungcheol's lips.

His own desire was evident, his chin quivering as he fought to hold back his own moans of pleasure. But unable to resist any longer, Seungcheol swiftly freed you from your shirt, his hands deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside.

With a sense of urgency, Seungcheol lowered his head, capturing one of your exposed nipples in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shot through you as his warm tongue flicked against the sensitive bud, his lips closing around it in a deliciously tantalizing embrace.

Seungcheol lavished attention on one nipple, his hand eagerly reachingj for the other, his fingers expertly pinching and rolling the hardened peak between his fingertips. 

As you opened your eyes, the world around you seemed to blur for a moment before coming into focus. And in that instant, you realized that you were no longer on the couch, but instead lying naked on Seungcheol's bed.

A surprised gasp escaped your lips as you took in the sight before you, the realization sinking in that Seungcheol had effortlessly whisked you away to his bedroom with incredible speed. It was yet another testament to his quick reflexes and agility, qualities that you found incredibly alluring.

Seungcheol's lips left a trail of wet, fiery kisses down your skin, each one igniting a new wave of desire within you. Your eyes followed his every movement, locking onto his gaze as he looked up at you with a hunger that mirrored your own.

With a slow, deliberate motion, his tongue traced a tantalizing path along your slick folds, eliciting a moan of pleasure from deep within your throat. The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body, your slick wetting his tongue as he continued to explore every inch of your pussy.

But as his tongue teased and tantalized your clit, driving you to the brink of madness with each flick and swirl, you couldn't help but tremble with anticipation.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice thick with desire. "Stop teasing me, Seungcheol. I need you."

Seungcheol's lips curved into a mischievous smile as he looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowing with amusement. "Oh, baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "But teasing you is half the fun. And besides, I love seeing you squirm and moan for me."

As Seungcheol's tongue lapped at your clit with an intensity that bordered on exquisite torture, you felt a fire ignite within you, consuming you with a burning desire that threatened to consume you whole. Your back arched involuntarily, a promise of the orgasm that loomed tantalizingly close on the horizon.

But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, Seungcheol abruptly pulled away, leaving you panting and trembling with need. Your legs quivered with embarrassment as he rose from between your thighs, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

Desperate for release, you begged him once more, your voice thick with desire and longing. But instead of granting your request, Seungcheol pouted playfully, delivering little slaps to your swollen pussy that sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

Each slap elicited a gasp of pleasure from deep within your throat, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand in search of more. And when Seungcheol least expected it, you surprised him by cumming just from the sensation of his hand against your sensitive flesh.

With a cry of ecstasy, you grabbed hold of his wrist, pressing his hand firmly against your throbbing cunt as you rode out the waves of pleasure that crashed over you. 

"Well, well, well," he teased, his voice dripping with a hint of mockery. "Looks like someone's a little too eager, hmm? Cumming just from a few little slaps on that pretty little pussy of yours."

With a coy tilt of your head, you met his gaze squarely, your voice steady despite the lingering traces of embarrassment. "Well then," you said, your tone playful yet assertive. "Are you going to fuck this pussy or what?"

Seungcheol's sudden assertiveness took you by surprise, his red ears and the way his pants and underwear fell to the ground signaling his overwhelming desire. Before you could react, he had manhandled you around the room, pressing your back against the wall with a force that left you breathless.

"Since you want to feel this cock," he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "you're going to feel it entirely."

With that, he thrust his cock deep inside of your pussy, your walls clenching around him as he filled you completely. His grip tightened behind your legs, holding you securely against him as you clung to his neck, your nails digging into his skin with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

As the position allowed him to hit your g'spot with each powerful thrust, pleasure surged through you in waves, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, your body arching against his as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over you.

Seungcheol's voice was a low, guttural moan as he continued to drive into you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Feeling me deep inside you, hitting all the right spots."

"Oh God! Seungcheol-ah!"

Seungcheol's eyes darkened with desire as he heard you moan his name, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Moan my name again. I want to hear you scream it."

His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment. With a sense of urgency, you complied, your voice a breathless whisper as you cried out his name once more.

"Seungcheol," you moaned, the sound echoing through the room as pleasure washed over you in a relentless wave. "Oh god, Seungcheol, yes!"

With a hand tangled in Seungcheol's hair, you felt the tension building within you, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "I'm cumming, baby, I'm cumming," you warned, your voice trembling with anticipation as you felt the climax approaching.

Seungcheol responded with slow, sharp, and hard thrusts, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensation was almost too much to bear, but you welcomed it eagerly, relishing in the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you.

"I got you, baby, I got you," Seungcheol murmured, his voice filled with reassurance and desire. "Oh my god, cum for me."

His words were all it took to push you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as you creamed all over his cock. The sound of your release mixed with the slickness of your arousal filled the room, a symphony of wetness that echoed off the walls.

In that moment, any doubts you had about Seungcheol's strength faded away, replaced by the certainty of his embrace. His arms held you so tight that you couldn't help but feel safe, trusting him completely to carry you through the intensity of your orgasm.

As Seungcheol gazed into your eyes, he couldn't help but be captivated by the lazy smile that played on your lips, your gaze still clouded with the aftermath of pleasure. He gently lay you back on the bed, his fingers trailing along your skin as he asked if you could handle another round.

"Ready for round two, baby?" Seungcheol murmured, his voice thick with desire as he positioned himself between your legs. "I want to make you cum again, even harder this time."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, excitement coursing through you as you eagerly awaited his touch. "Oh god, yes," you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper. "Please, Seungcheol, fuck me hard."

You nodded eagerly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you spread your legs for him, inviting him to take you once more. 

With a growl of approval, Seungcheol buried his cock deep inside of your sopping cunt, the sensation of him filling you once again sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each powerful thrust, he drove deeper into you, feeling your pussy getting tighter every second. 

"Fuck, you feel so good," Seungcheol groaned, his voice thick with lust as he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together. "I could fuck you like this all night long."

"Yes, Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice hoarse already "Fuck me harder, baby. Make me cum all over your cock."

Seungcheol whimpered at your words, you could feel the intensity of his desire growing, his cock twitching inside of you with each thrust. Determined to drive him over the edge, you watched with anticipation as he licked his thumb and began to massage your clit with incredible speed.

As your pussy clenched around him, Seungcheol felt a surge of pleasure shoot through his body, his own orgasm crashing over him with an intensity that left him trembling. He watched you in awe, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you screamed in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as you rode out the waves of your climax.

With almost closed eyes, Seungcheol's gaze remained fixed on you, his own pleasure mirrored in the way his body convulsed with each pulse of release. His hands trembled around your hips as his cum spilled into you, filling you up with each pulsating throb.

Despite his best efforts to keep up the dirty talk, Seungcheol found himself overcome by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure, his words reduced to incoherent moans and stuttered phrases. "Oh god," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking good."

As Seungcheol crawled to you and laid his head on your chest, hugging you tightly, you felt a sense of warmth and comfort enveloping you. But when you felt the hot tears against your skin, your heart clenched with worry.

"What's wrong, Seungcheol?" you asked softly, your voice filled with tenderness and concern. "Why are you crying?"

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he met your gaze, his expression a mixture of sadness and regret. "I just... I can't believe how brave you were today," he murmured. "You risked everything to protect me, even after everything that happened. And I... I just wish I could have protected you better."

Your heart ached at his words, the depth of his love and concern for you shining through despite his tears. Wrapping your arms around him, you held him close, offering him comfort and reassurance in the face of his distress.

"You don't need to protect me, Seungcheol," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "We protect each other. That's what love is all about."

Seungcheol's tears continued to fall, but you could sense a glimmer of relief in his eyes as he leaned into your embrace, finding solace in your words.

"I missed you so much, Seungcheol," you whispered, your voice filled with love and longing. "More than you'll ever know."

His eyes softened at your words, a small smile playing on his lips as he reached out to cup your cheek tenderly. "I love you," he said softly, his voice a gentle caress against your skin.

[babygorewhore]

Daddy issues

After your dad is arrested, you try and beg for his job back. But Rafe Cameron decides another way for you to help your father. And his arrangement is different than you imagine.

Warnings! Daddy kink! Talks of violence! Slight reference to abuse! Choking! Blow job! Rough unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Virginity loss! Dirty talk!

You didnt know if you were more angry or surprised when you got the call from the officer that your dad was arrested and currently in jail for assault. You were finished working your late shift at the restaurant when your phone rang.

You screamed in your car on the way to the station. Your dad was a dead beat. An asshole who didn’t know how to fucking control his temper. Daddy dearest also liked to get loud with you, throw things when he didn’t get his way and one time he slapped you in the face.

You slapped him back and threatened to slash his tires. But the threat was empty considering he needed to work, which you had no idea how he kept his job at the docks while working for Rafe Cameron. It used to be his father Ward until his suicide. You’d met him often while picking your dad up, given you had to share a car.

He was…polite you could say. But he was also scary. He glared at everyone and he was short tempered. You usually heard him snapping or yelling if something wasn’t done right. Your dad complained about how strict he was.

But his status and wealth made everyone obey him and intimidated you. His attractiveness however was on another level. His height made you feel small and his blue eyes cut through people.

You slammed the door at the station and went to the desk. After signing in, you tapped your foot impatiently as an officer came up to you.

“Are you…?”

“My dad is here. He just got arrested.” You ground out. You hated being here. She nodded and looked at paperwork in front of her.

“Are you here to post bail?”

“I’m here to see if there’s any way we can clear this up as a misunderstanding.” You tried to plead but she shook her head.

“Ma’am, he attacked a man at a stoplight. He beat him up to the point he lost one of his teeth.”

You pressed your head against your hand. Jesus Christ it was worse than you thought. “How much is bail?”

She looked again at the paperwork. “Looks like we’re at 6,000 dollars.”

“What? I thought the bail was lower than that!” You shrieked.

“Ma’am. He also had multiple charges. Public intoxication, disturbance and assault. He caused a lot of trouble. I suggest you alert his job tomorrow. But until then, he’s going to spend at least 60 days in jail.”

You started crying. You couldn’t help it. It hurt so much. You couldn’t get a break. And now you’d have to face Rafe Cameron and face the humiliation of your dad being in jail.

You cried on and off the next day as you had to switch your schedule to the evening and make the phone call to your dads manager about his current situation. It was immediate termination and you broke down even harder in your bedroom. You refused to take his phone call, afraid you’d explode on him.

As you got ready for another dreaded work shift, your phone started ringing to a number you didn’t recognize. Hesitantly, you answered.

“Hello?”

“Your dads in jail, huh?” You immediately froze. It was Rafe’s voice. How did he-well he was capable of finding anything out.

“I-um. Yes. And he can’t work for you anymore. But if you’ll please reconsider. I know he’s a piece of shit but this is the only job he’s lasted out and we desperately need the money. I’m trying to get a car and we have to share one. I know this is probably pointless but I can’t help but try. So please, please take him back.” More tears came and you felt like a total cry baby but you pushed through.

You expected him to laugh but instead silence met you.

You bit your lip hard enough it bled.

“Meet me at my house. I’ll text you the address. I have a proposition for you.”

“Why can’t you tell me over the phone?” Your stomach tightened.

“Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Good girl.”

You set the phone down but seconds later his address came through in a text and your breath stopped short. He wanted to see you after work.

Five minutes before closing and after you finished cleaning, the drive to Rafe’s house wasn’t that far and now you knocked on his door. When he answered, you tried not to reveal how much you found him attractive. His hair was in his face and his eyes were glazed as he looked down at you. His fingers twitched and you imagined what he was doing with that hand…

Rafe gestured with his head for you to come in and you followed him inside the massive penthouse. He had everything you imagined. Expensive furniture, floors and lights.

You followed him to the kitchen where he pointed to the bar stool. “Have a seat.” He muttered.

You obeyed and watched as he circled the island in the center of the room. “So. You wanna save your dads job?”

“Yes. I’m willing to do anything-“ You stopped short when a smirk fell on his face.

“Anything?” Rafe challenged. “It looked like you hated him whenever I saw you talk to him.”

“It’s complicated.” You replied and his smirk grew into a cruel smile.

“Looks like someone has daddy issues.” Rafe countered and you crossed your arms.

“I-well when you put it that way-“

“I’m just bringing up what you’re telling me. Your dad beats the shit out of someone. He went to jail-and now you’re doing anything you can to fix it. Tell me if I missed anything.” Rafe’s voice was low and you hated that he was right.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound pushy. I’m just in a tight spot.”

“Oh I’m sure you’re in a…tight spot.” His meaning was clear and you swallowed.

That was the exchange.

“Look at you. Being a little smart girl and figuring it out. I’m gonna get to the point. You want me to take him back? Bail him out? I get to fuck you. Anywhere. Anytime. And anyplace I want. No condoms. No hidden birth control. No. I wanna see my cum leak out of that desperate pussy.”

Your mouth opened and closed. “I can’t just fuck a stranger. And no birth control? I can’t fucking get pregnant.”

“I’m a selfish whore, baby. And I can afford one. And those are my terms. Either that. Or your dad rots.”

You bit your lip. You weren’t in a position to say no. You needed the money. And Rafe was hot. There were worse guys. Rafe got closer, his big hands reaching to cup the side of your neck.

“Yeah? You want it?”

Slowly, you nodded.

Rafe crooked a finger, signaling you to come closer. You stepped down and approached him gingerly and looked into his gaze. Rafe then latched his hand around your throat. His grip was so strong your feet almost lifted in the air and your eyes widened as he crushed his lips to yours.

His lips devoured you as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t experienced. Sure, you’d touched yourself and made out with people.

But actual fucking? You’d never done that. And you knew that was about to change.

“You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” Rafe loosened his hold on your neck and pressed you against the island counter, “need someone to be your daddy?”

Your hands flew to his chest as you brought him impossibly closer, his lips sucked your skin with bruising force. You opened your mouth as he slipped his fingers inside.

“Suck.” He commanded and you listened. Spit gathering on your lips as he kneed your legs apart and lifted you up on the counter.

“Need daddy to help you? Fill you up with my cum?” His dirty words made your cunt twitch as he started toying the end of your skirt. Your thighs dampened as he trailed his thick fingers along your flesh, his fingers grazing the wet patch of your underwear.

You started grinding to give any friction against your arousal as he apparently changed his mind and threw you to the ground by underneath your arms. Rafe gestured to the crotch of his pants. “Consider this your first payment, baby. You ever done this before?”

You shakily remained silent as he huffed an amused laugh.

“Really? A girl who’s such a perv that she’s willing to fuck someone giving her money? Never would have guessed. I guess I’ll be nice and help you.”

Rafe undressed his lower half, his cock leaked with precum and he took your hand. “Swipe it with your thumb, get it all wet.” His massive hand compared to yours was almost comical as he grabbed the back of your head.

“Open your mouth, princess. And remember to breathe through your nose.”

After that, he silenced whatever worries you had by shoving his dick forward. You run your tongue along the thick underside, lessening some of the heavy weight by massaging with your hand. You took the tip through your mouth, shoving down any nerves as you sucked. Rafe bobbed your head up and down as he pushed you further, your head bouncing as your eyes squeezed shut.

“No, no, open your slutty eyes and look at me.” He growled. He leaned over the arch of the space between the counter and where you sank on your knees. The skin of his cock was supple as you continued aiding with your hand. It was hot to the touch.

“Good fucking girl. Maybe I’ll reward you by fucking your pussy.” He started thrusting and hitting the back of your throat. “Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He wiped a few tears away with his thumb as you listened to him.

You knew he was getting closer as he stopped talking, his breathing heavier as he moved your head. His cum spilled inside your mouth, as he released you and you coughed.

“Not bad for your first time. We’re gonna practice some more.” Rafe smirked as his face was flushed and his fist flexed.

He moved on top of you on the floor, hiking up your skirt and ripping off your panties. He spread apart your wet cunt and dipped his middle finger inside your clenching entrance. “You’re such a whore. Never done any of this and you’re already gonna cum. Should have known you’d be daddy’s cum slut.”

Rafe yanked your legs apart, and spit on your pussy. “Not that it needed it, but I’m gonna be a little more kind to you.” You shrieked as he grabbed your jaw.

“Are you on birth control?”

“No.” You quickly answered. “Never-never needed-“

“Good. And you’re not going to. Got it?” Rafe moaned as he pushed his tip in your pussy, “fuck you’re so tight.”

You winced from discomfort but then his knuckles hit your clit, aiding to relieve your tension as he circled them. “Gonna make you mine. Take you away from all that shit.” He grunted as he pushed further.

Rafe let you wrap your arms around his neck as he thrusted.

“Tell daddy you like it.”

“I like it.” You sobbed as he moved harder. “I like it, daddy.”

It was slightly shameful how quickly you came all over him and spilled onto your legs. Rafe also came again and you felt it inside you. He was serious about no protection.

He stayed for a few seconds before getting up. And pulling his pants back on. He extended his hand and pulled you up. You knew you were a sight to be seen, fucked out eyes and messy hair. You just lost your virginity to Rafe Cameron.

You cleared your throat and watched him sweep his eyes over your face. “So. My dad?”

He shrugged. “He’s already out.”

You paled. “What?”

“I posted bail a few minutes before you got here. But as for his job, you’re gonna have to work harder than that. I have conditions.”

“But I already said-“

“More than just fucking you, baby girl. I own you now. You are mine and no one gets to even think about fucking you. I will cross any line you make to keep me away. And if you try, I will punish you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You whimpered as he loomed over you.

“And?” He mocked. “You already agreed. You need me. Don’t you?” He cupped your jaw. Tightly but not as harsh.

“Yeah.” You leaned in to his touch. Your defenses are completely down. You needed care. You were always working. Always cleaning up after someone’s mess. And now…he was going to take care of you.

And either make your daddy issues better.

Or worse.

@xxhellfirebunnyxx @imyourdaninow @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @scene-and-dandylover @emsgoodthinkin

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧JJK Men as Yanderes ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post Format: Headcanons

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Mahito, Choso Kamo

Word count: Each piece is roughly 750 words

Warnings: implied sabotage (Gojo, Toji, Choso), invasion of privacy (Gojo), kidnapping (Gojo, Sukuna), murder (Geto), kidnapping mention (Nanami, Toji), suicidal ideation (Nanami), light gore (Gojo, Sukuna, Mahito), reader injury (Sukuna), threats of bodily harm/mutilation (Mahito), sexual assault (Mahito), implied murder (Choso)

Satoru Gojo

You're nothing special. Not compared to him, at least. With no long line of sorcery or blue blood running through your veins, your family is just about as average as it gets.

You're nothing special---not to Jujutsu society, anyway. But who gives a shit about that? To Satoru, you're more than special.

You're everything.

He's always been the strongest, and yet, when he's with you, he just feels so weak.

Like a schoolgirl fawning over her latest crush, Satoru often finds himself checking his phone while away on missions, hoping to see your name appear on his screen. It doesn't have to be anything special—even a picture of some ugly animal with the caption "That's u, lol." is enough to get him going. Just knowing you were thinking of him at all, even in an unflattering light, makes him feel lightheaded in a way not even battle can emulate.

It's weird. It's embarrassing.

But he can't get enough.

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel, he'd kneel. If you asked him to beg, he'd beg. If you asked him to rip out a man's heart and present it to you, he'd ask if he should do so on a silver or gold platter.

If you asked him to let you go, however...

You sigh and fall back onto the couch. It'd been a week since your landlord mysteriously kicked you out, and Satoru took you in with a frankly suspicious eagerness. To say that he was an overbearing roommate was to put it lightly.

He'd follow you around the flat from room to room, enter your bedroom without knocking, and once, you even caught him sifting through your laundry. He wasn't even embarrassed about getting caught, let alone the fact that he had done it in the first place.

You decided to start searching for a new roommate after that.

"Y'know," Satoru says, slinging his arms around your shoulders---you hadn't even heard him approach. You quickly close your computer, which happens to have very clearly been showcasing cheap apartments in the area. "I could have just taken ya'. Snatched you up off the street like some kidnapper."

"What...?"

"---But I decided to play nice instead. I thought we could forge a real relationship that way. But you've just been pushing me away. I'm starting to think I've been too lenient with ya'. Like maybe I should have just locked you up instead."

"That isn't funny, Satoru."

"Who said I was joking?" You open your mouth to respond, but Satoru cuts you off before you get the chance. "You want dinner? I can order us takeout. Anywhere you'd like."

Drop it, his eyes say. You do.

That very night, you pack a bag and head to the nearest hotel. In the morning, you'll ask your job if they can transfer you to another city. For tonight, you'd like to just get a good night's rest without the lingering fear of waking up to his figure looming over you.

You wake up to familiar surroundings. It doesn't register as strange until you remember checking into a hotel the night prior. You shoot up to get a better look around. Sure enough, you're in your own bedroom, not the hotel's.

But how...?

You're sure you left last night. Did you dream it? You go to check your phone, but it's not there.

Just then, the door opens. "Oh, you're up," your roommate says.

"Satoru, what's---"

"I called you in sick for work today," he says casually, "and tomorrow. Actually, starting today, you're unemployed."

"What?!"

"Don't worry. I can take care of us. I've got more than enough money."

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel...If you asked him to beg...

If you asked him to let you go, however...

"C'mon, baby, you know I can't do that," he'd say, arms around your waist and head in your lap. "Ask me for something else, anything. Just not that. Do you want a pony? We can get a pony."

"No---"

"What about a cat? Or maybe you prefer dogs? I could get a purebred if you wanted one. I know it gets lonely being in the house all by yourself."

"I want to go outside, Satoru."

"We could get a fish tank, I guess. Though I doubt they'd make good company."

"Listen to me---"

"Actually, maybe that's for the best. Wouldn't want to compete for my lover's attention in my very own home, you know?"

Suguru Geto

When he was at his lowest, Suguru thought of you. It kept him going. It kept him sane.

So, of course, you were the first person he asked to join him in the creation of the new world. His world.

"Our world," he said, the look on his face desperate, pleading.

You declined, of course. His ideals went against everything you stood for as a Jujutsu sorcerer. As a person.

He took it well---or seemed to, at least. He flashed you a plastered-on smile and released your hands from his, leaving you with no further fuss.

For a while, that seemed to be the end of it.

Life went on. Though you would occasionally catch wind of his nefarious deeds, dealing with such things never fell within your purview. In fact, it almost seemed as if the higher-ups were purposefully keeping you from any cases that involved him.

You had all but forgotten about that fateful evening when a call from the higher-ups had you booking a flight to Okayama.

Apparently, there had been a sudden influx of cursed spirits in the region. And as the lead researcher in cursed phenomena, you were called to the scene.

You had already been given a file outlining the happenings, but out of courtesy, Yumi, the assistant supervisor assigned to the case alongside you, filled you in regardless.

"It's not that there's a higher rate of cursed spirits being born in this area," she said. "They're migrating here."

"Hmm," you look over the map on your tablet again; colour-coded dots mark the locations and grades of each (presumed) non-native sighting. The spacings are far from natural. They seem to have been made with intent, almost as if forming a pattern of some kind.

"We've set up a barrier to track the arrival of new cursed spirits. Nearly every curse from fourth to semi-first grade in the neighbouring towns has been coming here. Some of our windows have even spotted them moving together in groups."

"Was there anything strange about their behaviour? Like moving in single-file lines, with strange movements, or perhaps even speaking?" Yumi lights up.

"Yes, actually! They were all---"

Your screen flashes, suddenly restarting the tablet without your input.

"Huh...?"

"[Last]-San..." Your supervisor almost whispers. You tear your eyes from your screen to hers as she weakly holds up her tablet to you.

Over four hundred cursed spirits have been spotted crossing the Okayama border within the past fifteen minutes.

Your tablet finishes restarting, and you scramble to view the map again, hoping what you just saw was nothing more than a glitch.

The loading screen seems to take ages to complete, but when it does, the map shows exactly what you feared.

Oh. You get it now.

The pattern it was trying to spell out. It's "愛"

---"Love".

You hear a scream.

"Ah, it's good to see you again. How long has it been now?" A voice---one you're all too familiar with---says. "Two, no, maybe three years?" Suguru is wiping blood off of his hands. You don't want to look down. You can't look down.

Yumi is dead.

You looked down.

"I'm not sure why I phrased that like a question I didn't know the answer to," he says, smiling in a way that makes your heart ache. "I've been keeping track down to the days, you see."

"Were you...behind this?" You've never been one for combat. You can't use reverse cursed technique to save Yumi. You can't fight to save the others. There's nothing you can do.

You've never felt so helpless.

"I did," he admits casually. "I recently got my hands on a new curse. First-grade 'Pied Piper', its technique creates a sort of call-and-response between itself and other curses of a lower grade through a musical frequency only other curses can perceive. With that technique, I can manipulate the movements of curses I haven't yet acquired without leaving my residuals behind."

"But if it's coming from the technique of a curse you possess, your residuals would still be left behind," you counter.

"Ah, as quick on the uptake as always, [First]," he praises. "You're right, or you would be if this curse were under the control of my curse spirit manipulation. No, this curse was tamed, not subjugated."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He's going to kill you once he's finished explaining.

"I've always appreciated an inquisitive mind," he says. "especially when it's your inquisitive mind." Your mouth forms a vague 'O' shape as the realisation dawns on you.

"愛"

"Love"

...You're never getting away.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is someone who has never really been all that content with life.

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Sometimes, on his darkest days, Nanami thinks about what would have happened if he had joined Haibara—or better yet, if he had never even been born in the first place. If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?

But then he met you, and suddenly, the world didn't seem all that bad.

Don't get him wrong, it's not like your presence suddenly made all the wrongs in the world right, but it did make him feel like they all mattered just a little bit less. Like maybe all this suffering was worth it, if it also meant he could see you smile.

So, of course, he'd do anything to keep you safe. To protect that smile.

The easiest way to ensure that, of course, would be to clip your wings. To lock you away somewhere where only he could reach you. A songbird that only sings for him, a dove in a birdcage.

He'd treat you like royalty, of course. His job pays well, but he's a somewhat frugal person by nature, so he has plenty of savings lying around. Whatever you wanted, he'd get you.

As long as you stayed safe, he couldn't ask for anything more. Even if you didn't love him, as long as your smile could be protected, that would be enough.

He's in the middle of researching what kind of restraints would cause the least damage and irritation to your skin when he realises what a grave mistake he was about to make.

'If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?'

What if...

What if you started feeling that way, too?

What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?

He could offer you all the material things in the world, but if it comes at the price of your freedom, it might still not make you happy. After all, it was the same for him.

If money didn't make him happy, why would you be different?

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Nanami is worse.

He doesn't deserve you. It's with this thought in mind that he begins to avoid you. He refuses to meet your gaze, leaves the room when you enter, and declines all missions that involve your presence.

He feels like he's going crazy. Separation has made him sloppy and reckless. He comes home with more injuries, and a part of him thinks he deserves it.

Bags begin to form under his eyes as two weeks go by without the haven of your presence. He sees you everywhere now. The girl across the street is dressed in a substyle you like. The model in that magazine has your eyes. The cafe down the block is having a special on your coffee order.

"Nanamin, why're you avoiding [Last] all of a sudden? They do something to you?" Nanami scoffs at the remark but doesn't answer. He turns to leave but stops when Gojo continues. "Y'know, they actually came cryin' to me about it. Said they had no idea why you suddenly started treatin' 'em like they've got the plague." Nanami turns to look at Gojo, who's fiddling with his blindfold. "You should make up with them soon. Can't leave our cute little assistant supervisor feeling so down, you know?"

Nanami hates to admit it, but Gojo might be right.

'What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?'

Fuck. He can't do anything right.

He really doesn't deserve you, but what can he do? If he leaves, you won't smile anymore, but if he stays, you'll be smiling at a monster.

But what can he do? He'd do anything to protect that smile.

Even if it means hiding his fangs.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is a man who takes what he wants and doesn't care if he has to get his hands dirty in order to take it.

Naturally, this applies to you as well.

It's strange, he's never wanted someone as badly as he wants you. Not his past flings, not even his late wife.

Toji is no stranger to romance. He was married, after all. He knows love. It's a familiar feeling.

That's why he's inclined to believe that what he feels for you isn't love. No, what he feels for you is far too primal to be love. It's rough and all-consuming. It's nothing like the soothing feeling he had around his wife.

Love wraps around one's heart like a warm blanket. This wraps around his heart like a python.

But if it's not love, what is it?

Actually, scratch that. It doesn't matter.

Whatever it is, it's some form of desire. And if he desires something, then all he has to do is take it.

Yes, it's better to keep these kinds of things simple rather than getting tied up in technicalities.

There is a problem, however. He'd like nothing more than to just lock you up and keep you for himself, but with his somewhat unstable income and his habit of bouncing around from place to place, that isn't exactly feasible.

Ah, what to do...?

He could settle down or stop spending his money as soon as he earns it, but where's the fun in that?

No, rather than try to adapt to your lifestyle, he'd much rather force you to adapt to his. Still, he supposes some sacrifices will be necessary, as his lifestyle is currently only fit for one.

You'll have to quit your job since you'll be moving around from place to place alongside him, but he'll just take on some more jobs to cover the extra cost; it's no big deal.

He proposes the idea to you so matter-of-factly that it's almost as if he believes you to have already agreed to the plan beforehand. In reality, this is your first time hearing of such a thing, and you're so stunned that you momentarily lose your voice.

You've known this man for two, no, maybe three weeks, and yet he's asking you to drop everything and come overseas with him? You're not even friends! He's just a regular at the cafe you're employed with.

It dawns on you that he must be joking, so you chuckle awkwardly and avert your gaze. Perhaps you simply haven't known him long enough to gauge his sense of humour. You feel a little embarrassed for nearly having taken him so seriously.

Then, he shows you the plane tickets.

Bewildered, you end up being more blunt than you perhaps meant to: "I'm not going," you say, pushing his tickets back to him.

"Sweetheart," he says dryly. "I'm not asking." You shoot him a strained, confused smile, which quickly morphs into a more genuine one as the door chimes.

To think you'd ever be happy to serve a customer. It's a foreign sentiment, but if it means an end to this strange interaction, you'd happily serve a hundred---no, maybe even a thousand customers.

You take their order and get to making their drink, shooting quick glances at the man---Toji, you think---from behind the bar.

He hasn't taken his eyes off of you.

It's days like this that you wish the company wasn't so stingy about hiring more than one person for shifts. You're about to clock out, and if that man is going to stay until closing, you'd really like to have a coworker walk you back to your car.

It's twenty minutes until closing when Toji finally leaves. You let out an unconscious sigh of relief, feeling your shoulders relax. That was weird, but you shouldn't have to see him again, right? He's going overseas tomorrow, after all.

Yeah, you won't see him again. Thank goodness.

It's with that thought in mind that you flip the "We're open!" sign to its side and lock the doors. It's only 6 PM, but the fall season means it's already dark. You shiver from a cool breeze as you make your way towards your car at last.

Huh. Flat tire.

Ryomen Sukuna

Those who know of Sukuna will inevitably feel sorry for anyone who happens to catch his gaze. Sorcerer or not, none will ever possess even a fraction of the strength he carries, and for someone like Sukuna, that means you're no better than a bug to be trampled on.

What a poor, pitiful thing you are. You must be treated more like a pet than a person. A plaything for him to toy with, to discard once you've ceased to entertain.

However, this interpretation couldn't be more wrong.

What others fail to realise is that Sukuna would never waste his time on someone he doesn't consider his equal. Weak as you may be, there's something about you that seems different in his eyes.

Like a precious gem left unpolished, there's a certain allure to you that only a trained eye could see, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone else stake a claim on you first.

No, he'll be the one to bring out your true potential.

Sukuna has never met someone worthy of being his companion. This has never bothered him, however. Loneliness was not something he was familiar with. There are those who have tried, of course, to prove their worth, to stand by his side, but none have ever moved him.

None until you, that is.

The funny thing is that you don't even try to win his attention. You never once asked for his gaze to land upon you. And yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Sukuna doesn't know what to do with you. You make him feel things he's never felt before.

Is this weakness? Is it love?

Is there a difference between the two at all?

Should he kill you? Should he keep you?

What can he do to make these feelings go away? What can he do to ensure they never go away?

In exchange for not pillaging your homeland, the townspeople offer you up as a sacrifice. It was Uraume's idea.

At midnight, you're dragged out of the comfort of your home and tied to a stake, where you stay for hours. By dawn, you've worn yourself out with struggle, dried blood sticking to your hands and the ropes around your wrists, when a white-haired stranger comes to collect you.

The stranger undoes your bindings, but only the ones keeping you bound to the pole. You're dragged along like a dog on a leash for countless hours until you eventually arrive at the largest estate you've ever seen in your life. It's midday when you're untied and allowed to bathe. The warm water releases all the tension from your aching muscles, and as you bathe, the white-haired fellow replaces the garments you arrived in with robes made of fine silk.

The stranger's name is Uraume, they tell you. They'll be taking care of you until their master is ready to meet with you.

"What happens after that?" you ask tentatively.

Uruame flashes you a smile that refuses to answer.

Before you know it, a full week has passed you by. You're still yet to see this so-called master, but Uraume tells you not to worry. After all, the master has already seen you lots of times, they say.

The thought of being watched in secret sends a shiver down your spine.

Though the prison is large, you're confined to only one wing of the estate, and after a week of having nothing to do but wander, you have the entire layout memorized. Bored and unattended, you decide to venture out into the unknown past the garden's gates. There, you come face-to-face with the largest man you've ever laid eyes upon.

A hulking figure with four arms and fiery pink hair turns to you, and in an instant, you fall to the ground, only vaguely aware of the blood pooling around you and the pain across your chest.

In truth, Sukuna had tried to kill you, but his technique missed your vitals. It takes him a moment of watching your blood ooze out of the open wound to realize he did it on purpose. Before he even realizes it, he's picked you up in his lower arms and applied reverse cursed technique to your injury. You've lost consciousness, and your pulse is weak, but you aren't dead. Relief floods through Sukuna's veins as he listens to your soft breathing.

From that day on, you're never to leave his side unless absolutely necessary. From that day on, Sukuna has someone worthy of standing by his side, not as a servant, nor a pet, but as a companion. From that day on, Sukuna has a lover.

Whether you like it or not.

Mahito

As a curse born from the hatred and fear humans feel towards their own kind, Mahito relishes humanity's anguish and despair. He kills without a second thought, not caring who he hurts or who gets swept up into his path of mass destruction.

So why is it that this particular human sways him so? Why is it that he thinks your soul looks pretty, just the way it is? Why does he want to touch you but not to warp you beyond repair?

Why does he want you to look at him? Why does he want to scoop your eyes out of your sockets so that you can never look away?

To be a curse is to always follow your own desires, no matter how contradictory or inconsistent---that's the motto that Mahito lives by.

So, of course, this philosophy applies to you as well.

It doesn't make sense, and he doesn't understand it. But that doesn't matter to him. Why would it? He's a curse, and curses take what they want. What he wants is you, so, of course, he has to take you, too.

Mahito doesn't spend long watching you before he makes his move. First, he has to check if you can even see curses to begin with. If you can, that'll make things easier. But if you can't...well, that'll be fun too.

He bumps into you at the train station around 2 AM. It was a late night at work, and you're now dead on your feet. There's no one around, so it's the perfect time for him to test you. He taps your shoulder with a smile.

If you don't react, he starts feeling you up, talking aloud about how much he wants you as his hands roam your body.

"Mm, you're so weak," he says, palm on your stomach. "Look at you, all unguarded. If I wanted to, I could take your soul and just—" he squeezes the flesh on your abdomen. "—until you go splat! Hmm, but I don't really want to do that. I wonder why?" His hand trails down to your hips, brushing past—but not quite landing on—your private areas.

"It's weird, isn't it? You can't even see me. You don't even know I exist. But I know you exist." He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together. "Humans usually wear rings when they're married, right? I wonder why you don't have one? You're such a catch," he giggles. "Ah, well, I guess it's better for me. Less work, y'know?Though, I would have liked to see the look on your face, coming home to dear, sweet hubby, all mangled up in your living room. I wouldn't even bother transfiguring him. No, I'd want you to see his face clearly, all contorted in pain with his guts splayed out all over the floor."

He follows you home. You still can't see him, but you at least seem a little aware of his presence, with the way you keep glancing over your shoulder, randomly picking up the pace and taking more turns than necessary.

How fascinating! You can't see him, and yet you can sense him? He's swooning already.

"Don't worry, [First]," he says, arms around your shoulders as you fumble with your keys. "You'll be able to see me soon. And after that, you're never getting rid of me."

If you do react, however, he holds himself back, opting to strike up a lighthearted conversation with you instead.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?" He asks. "Don't you know the subway is dangerous at night?" You visibly bristle, clearly on guard. He grins.

"Do you need something?" You ask, clutching your bag to your chest and stepping back. His grin widens, easily closing the distance you've just created.

"You're lonely, aren't you? All you do is work; you don't even have any friends! It's kind of pathetic, really. That's okay, though, I like you anyway. I might be the only one."

"What do you---"

"I could help you, you know. Ease your loneliness, maybe?" He's touching you now. Nothing outright inappropriate, but you could smell his intentions from a mile away.

"No thanks," you say. The train stops, and you hurry off the platform. Fortunately, the stranger doesn't get off with you. He waves at you as the doors close, and you run all the way home.

Finally feeling safe, you don't bother to do anything more than kick off your shoes before collapsing on your bed. It creaks under your weight, then creaks again. You freeze, your eyes shooting open.

"Heya," the stranger says. "Fancy seeing you again."

Choso Kamo

If you were to describe him in one word, 'inexperienced' may be your best bet.

Though it's true that he has 'lived' for over one hundred and fifty years, he spent most of that time as a cursed womb, unable to truly experience the outside world for himself. Even after being incarnated and absorbing the memories of his host, Choso finds himself unable to relate to any of his body's experiences. He knows what love is and what lovers do, but only from a technical standpoint. To actually experience it is something he's never even dreamed of doing.

So, of course, when he starts feeling these things for you, he's unable to properly put a label on them. At first, he thinks he's sick, which isn't unreasonable, considering his rather long list of symptoms (fever, shakes, sweats, heart palpitations, and clouded mind, he notes dutifully).

However, that idea is quickly shut down. Being a cursed womb death painting, it's highly unlikely that he even can get sick; plus, his symptoms only seem to surface when you're around (or when he's thinking of you, which, admittedly, is often).

Did you curse him? No, you don't have a technique like that.

Then, what...?

It takes him a somewhat embarrassingly long time for him to realise the truth behind his feelings. It isn't until after he catches himself staring at your lips and thinking about how soft they'd feel against his that he concludes he likes you.

So, he's figured it out. Now what...?

Choso searches through his host's memories in an attempt to figure out how to woo you. Unfortunately for him, his host was a frat boy with commitment issues who knew more about one-night stands than how to build the foundations for an actual relationship.

So, Choso consults Yuki Tsukimo, who he, with his very limited circle of friends, considers to be an expert.

As expected, Yuki is ecstatic at the news that Choso has found his type. Immediately, she's giving an impromptu lecture on the ways of the heart.

"First, you have to figure out their type," she says, wagging a finger. "If it's a match, you're all good. If not, you either need to give up or double down."

Through Yuki's mentoring, Choso learned the general rules for signalling romantic interest. Flowers, chocolates, walks in the park, walks on the beach—a lot of walking in general, actually—candlelit dinner, pick-up lines—he's got it all memorized.

The problem is that his throat gets dry, and his knees lock up when he so much as thinks about talking to you.

So he takes to following you with his eyes instead.

"It's just until I gather the courage to talk to them," he tells himself. "I'll stop once I figure out their type."

Right, if he can't ask you about your interests, he'll just have to observe them instead.

So, he watches you. All the time. Eventually, he all but forgets about his previous plan of it being a temporary habit.

It's just so...addicting. Watching you go about your day like normal. Completely unaware of his presence in the shadows. 

He learns about your hobbies, your interests, what kind of shows you like, your favourite foods, whether you still keep stuffed animals in your room, and more. He has a mental folder of all your likes and dislikes. And while there are some things he’s not able to learn, some places he’s not able to follow, it’s enough. Just knowing this much is perfect. 

He doesn't do anything. He doesn't plan to, either. He’s content with just watching. It's comfortable like this. He doesn't want anything to change. So, he forgets about stopping, and instead sinks even deeper into his newfound obsession.

If he had it his way, things would stay like this forever. Him, never confessing, and you, never knowing. But, unfortunately, fate had other plans in mind.

It was 10:15 AM, and you were at a local coffee shop by yourself when the barista handed you their number with your receipt. You shyly accepted, and just a day later, the two of you had plans for a date the next week.

Unfortunately, your 'date' canceled last minute and blocked you with no explanation.

It's a good thing, then, that your good friend Choso just so happened to bump into you, lending you his shoulder to cry on.

Well, there's no reason to waste a good dinner reservation, right?

You never do go back to that cafe, but if you did, you'd find the barista missing from the register.

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way Master List

Gif by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Raider!Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Spotify Playlist

Inspiration came from @toxicanonymity and her fantastic Raider!Joel.

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

This is a reader fic, reader is early 20's, Joel is 40's at this point, reader is small enough that the men can lift her, but these are strong men. Reader is also refered to as little one, little girl ETC, but that's more in reference to her age/innocence than physical size.

Unknown chapters at this point but heres a starter

Chapter 1: Joel takes you away from everything you know

Chapter 2: Joel takes what he wants, Tommy tries to make things easier

Bonus Chapter: Tommy takes Little One's virginity

Chapter 3: Joel softens up, and readers learns her roll in all this

Chapter 4: Little One is getting cocky, and finds herself in trouble, but Tommy and Joel are there for her

Chapter 5: Joel and Tommy don’t feel good

Suggested drabble: Period sex

Chapter 6: Things change with Tommy, and Joel shows a more vunerable side during a near disaster.

Chapter 7: Little One and Lorenzo spend some time together, and Lorenzo drops a bomb on Little One.

sick bonus chapter

Chapter 8: For 6 months of Little One's pregnancy her relationship with Joel and Lorenzo shifts and changes.

Suggested Drabble: Brotherhood

Chapter 9: The aftermath.

Suggested Drabble: “It Wasn’t Always Like This”

Chapter 10: The escape does not go as planned.

Alternate ending: a happier end

Canon Sequel Mini Series, Ghost of You

Follow Ellie's life sifting through to lies to discover the truth of her creation.

Dark Ending Timeline: Going Under

Going Under: Chapter 1:

Going Under: Chapter 2:

Going Under: Chapter 2.5:

Going Under: Chapter 3

Going Under: June and Tommy

Going Under: Chapter 4

Going Under: Finale

Suggested drabbles to see how the uncles are doing after the canon ending: Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy, and Better Than Revenge

If neither ending satisfied you or if there was something you wanted to see but didn’t, if you wanna write something in universe will be happy to link it to my masterlist!

Art by @melodymakesart

Drabbles, One Shots, Thots

Period Sex: Period sex with Joel makes Little One more confused than ever at what she is to Joel

Well, That’s Alright Because I Like The Way It Hurts: Joel is gone for longer than expected and you worry about him. When he comes back, you let him take his frustration out on your body

Brotherhood: Tommy and Joel reflect on their relationship as brothers.

“It Wasn’t Always Like This”: In Tommy’s arms, Little One thinks over her year with Joel

Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy: Lorenzo is slowly recovering, meets his niece for the first time

Better than Revenge: Lorenzo and Tommy can’t get revenge on Joel, but they can get revenge on the one who started it all

Zach and Lorenzo’s Wedding

Gateaway Car by Taylor Swift, thoughts by @fandxmslxt69

Art by @k-ra

Joel and Lorenzo by @fen-is-unwell

If this sort of thing doesn't interest you or triggers you, hide dub con and non con from your tags as I will be tagging any fics like that as such

Main Blog (filled with more normal fics lol): @romanarose

This is absolutely not anything anyone needs to do bc ur lovely comments are enough but if anyone makes a book board, art, a fic or anything based off this series, you absolutely can! I know some creators aren’t for it but I love when people do that, and I’ve written a few fics for a few series myself. If you are so inclined and are okay with it, I’ll attach them to this master list (that includes if you don’t like my endings you can make your own 😂)

But as always, nice comments mean the world. I know with this sort of content you may not want to Reblog it on your page, but if you leave a comment or send an anon, that means the world and keeps me writing!

[munstysmind]

WARNING/S: non-con, rape, loss of virginity, rough sex, rough vaginal sex, rough oral sex, rough anal sex, unprotected sex, multiple men, blood, assault, abuse, slavery, trauma, threats of forced prostitution, mentions of kidnapping/abduction, mentions of death, mentions or murder, mentions of injuries, mentions of suicide. If I’ve missed anything, please let me know.

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT

THIS IS A DARK FIC, DO NOT READ IF THIS TYPE OF CONTENT TRIGGERS OR OFFENDS YOU.

You and you alone are responsible for what you choose to consume online.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Thank you to @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure for being my ideas gremlin, and @themaradwrites for beta-ing. This wouldn’t have been written without your help.

MAIN MASTERLIST

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list

CH. 1 - THEIR REWARD

{54 BC}

Her heart pounds in her chest as she slowly walks down the hall towards the man she despises more than anything in this world.

Dominus Julius Fabius. Her owner. Her master.

She wishes she could stick him in the neck with a dagger and watch him bleed to death, just like all the men he condemns when he forces them into the arena.

He’s pure evil.

The kind of evil Orcus uses to make an example of. The God of punishment and the Underworld is going to have fun with her master when he passes into the afterlife.

She’s lost count of how long it’s been. Five years? Probably more, if she’s being honest with herself. She doesn’t even know who she is anymore.

Except her name.

Amina.

To everyone around her, she’s a thing. An object meant to do as she’s told. No exceptions.

She runs her finger along the cold iron bolted around her neck, her slave collar.

Thirty coins. That’s what he paid for her. She didn’t know you could put a price on someone’s life but that’s what hers was worth, thirty whole coins.

“There you are girl” he growls as he grabs her wrist tightly and drags her towards a door at the end of the hall “I’m in a right mind to give you a lashing for making me wait”

“I’m sorry, they… they wanted to make sure everything was perfect” she mumbles, keeping her eyes on the floor to help hide her tears as she recalls the looks of pity on the faces of the women who got her ready.

She knows they know what her Master’s plans are, and she suspects the reason they took so long was to keep her from her fate for as long as they possibly could.

“I don’t care. Those fighters in there won me a lot of denarii today. You’re going to let them do whatever they want to you. All. Night” her master tells her, getting so close to her she can feel his warm, vile breath across her face.

“I… I’ve never…” she stammers, her eyes going wide as she realises what he’s saying.

“I know. I know you’ve never laid with a man before, they checked you when I brought you. That’s why I chose you” he says, a smirk spreading across his face. “Maybe I should put you in the Lupanar and whore you out after they’ve broken you in. Gods know you’d make me a fortune”

It takes everything in her not to turn and run as fast as she can as she swallows down the bile rising in her throat.

It would be pointless though, there’s guards everywhere. She wouldn’t make it to the end of the hall before they caught her. She’d be guaranteed a lashing too, a public one at that. Just like Vesta.

“I mean it girl. You’re theirs tonight. I don’t care if it hurts… in fact, I want it to. A lot” he whispers, pulling out a small dagger and cutting one of the shoulders of her dress, exposing her breast.

He runs the dagger tip over her nipple, pressing it into the sensitive bud until it breaks the skin, making her let out a small whimper of pain.

“If you resist, or put up a fight, you’ll be punished, and it’ll be much worse than what they’re going to do” he growls before pushing her into the room.

She can’t help but flinch as the large wooden door is slammed in her face, the echo of the metal latch being closed ringing in her ears.

She just stands there, staring at it as she takes shuddery breaths.

She knows what’s about to happen. What she’s about to go through. And there’s nothing she can do about it.

She’s trapped.

Locked in a room with three blood covered fighters.

Their reward for winning their master 5000 coin.

She’s their prize.

“Turn around” a deep voice commands, making her jump.

She closes her eyes, praying to the Gods that she wakes up from this nightmare as she slowly turns around.

She sees the man the voice belongs to and her breath catches in her throat as she fights back tears.

He’s the one who killed her brother.

Champion gladiator August.

“Name” he growls, slowly approaching her with a look similar to the lions in the arena before they attack.

“Am… Amina” she stammers, stumbling back against the door as he towers over her.

She can smell death on him. The twang of iron, of blood. Was it her brothers?

Her stomach churns at the thought and she wants to be sick.

“Amina” he repeats “honest, faithful. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman”

Under any other circumstance she might have smiled and thanked him for his compliment, just like she was taught, but not this time. She just can’t.

“I like to know their names before I take what I want” he tells her with a smirk.

He remembers them, every name. All the women he’s taken this way. Amina’s the latest entry on his ever growing list.

He grabs her dress and tears it off her body, letting the fabric crumple to the floor.

She instinctively tries to cover herself, but he stops her, prying her hands away from her body before grasping her breasts and squeezing.

A grin spreads across his face as he continues to grope her, pinching and rolling her nipples tightly between his fingers, making her whimper in pain.

The noise makes him let out a low growl from deep in his chest and his eyes go dark, almost black.

Before she can fully register what’s happening, he grabs her by the back of her neck and yanks her towards the small table on the other side of the room, forcing her onto her back.

He takes her legs behind the knees and pushes them open, exposing her to not only him, but the other two men in the room who are now standing behind him and looking over his shoulder.

Her stomach churns as she stares at the ceiling, her face burning with embarrassment as she tries to think of anything to distract her from the way he’s inspecting her.

She bites back a whimper as he touches her, his fingers playing with her most intimate area before spreading it open.

He lets out a satisfied hum, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees she’s intact, just like their Master promised.

“I’ve never had a pure one before” he says, to no one in particular as he pinches the small bundle of nerves above her opening, making her gasp loudly.

“They’re my favourite. Oh, the noises they make” one of the other men says excitedly, much to August’s annoyance.

“She’s mine, Lloyd” he growls, glaring at the man before turning his attention back to her, really looking at her for the first time since she entered the room.

And as much as she tries to look away, to look anywhere but the face of the man that’s about to brutalise her, she can't. Her green, terror filled eyes just stare at him, transfixed.

He’s seen her eyes, and that look, before. He knows he has. There’s something so familiar about them and it takes him a minute to place it. The man he killed in the arena a mere hours before. Her brother.

“You’ve got his eyes” he tells her before turning his gaze back between her legs.

She’s so caught up in the flood of emotions at what he just said that she doesn’t notice his finger pushing into her until it’s too late.

She lets out a loud yelp at the sudden pain between her legs, her body instinctively trying to close her legs and move away from the beast of a man in front of her.

He lets out an angry growl and yanks her up by her arm, turning her around and bending her over the table with so much force all the air leaves her lungs when her chest makes contact with the wooden surface.

“Don’t move” he growls, kicking her legs apart with his feet.

She grips the edge of the table, so tightly her fingers hurt, as tears well in her eyes. She prays the talk of his stamina is wrong, that it will be over quickly.

But it won’t.

When he’s done with her, there’s two more waiting.

And they have her all night…

The sound of his armour dropping onto the ground behind her makes her heart pound.

It’s happening.

Right now.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying her best to relax when she feels him prod at her again, but it doesn’t matter.

He snaps his hips forward and tears into her with force, pulling a scream of pain from her that makes him grin.

In all the beatings she’s gotten over the years, she’s never felt pain like this.

It’s like a searing hot poker being forced into her over and over as she’s split in two.

The tears in her eyes escape and spill onto the table as he thrusts into her, over and over and over again. It feels like the more she cries, the harder his thrusts become.

“Best one I’ve had yet” he grunts as he lays over her, pressing her against the table with his full body weight, and starts grinding into her, moaning loudly in her ear.

He’s enjoying this, getting pleasure out of hurting her. How can he not? He’s a sadistic bastard!

Little does she know she’s not the first woman he’s forced himself into. It’s the whole reason he’s stuck fighting in that gods forsaken arena in the first place. And unless he dies there, she won’t be the last.

“You’re mine now, gonna take you like this whenever I want” he pants, making her let out a loud sob at the thought of him doing this to her over and over.

It all becomes too much and her stomach churns as bile rises in her throat, burning it as she chokes and coughs it up.

His moans start becoming louder as he ruts into her hard, his hips slamming her body into the table over and over and over.

“Oh Gods!” he roars, moaning loudly as his hips stutter then still before he thrusts into her as hard as he can, filling her with a strange warmth.

He says something to her, but she doesn’t hear a word of it, unable to hear anything except the loud ringing in her ears.

She lets out a loud whimper as he pulls out of her before kneeling and pushing her legs wider, smirking at the blood mixed with his spend dripping out of her.

He catches some with his fingers and pushes them inside her, forcing it back into her as she lies on the table, her entire body shaking and twitching from shock as she takes shallow, gasping breaths.

“My turn” the second of the men says, all but pushing August out of the way before grasping her by her hair and pulling her to her feet, making her cry out.

He pushes her to her knees, making quick work of removing his armour as she glances behind him at August drinking wine from a goblet and sees the size of him for the first time, enough to make Priapus himself blush.

She looks back at the second man, terror spreading through her yet again as she comes face to face with his member.

She can’t tell if he’s bigger, but it doesn’t matter. He’s going to defile her the same way August did without a care for her.

He hooks his finger into her mouth and forces it open before pushing himself in until she starts to gag.

He holds onto the sides of her head and starts thrusting, hitting the back of her throat with each snap of his hips.

A smirk spreads across his face as he moves one of his hands to the back of her head and forces her down onto him, deep throating her.

He holds her there, moaning at the feeling of the muscles in her throat squeezing him as she chokes.

“We can’t kill her, Lloyd” August warns as she starts scratching at his legs, trying desperately to get air.

He lets out a growl as he pulls himself out of her mouth and slaps her hard across the face before grabbing it and pulling her to her feet.

“You’re going to pay for that” he hisses, manhandling her onto the small bed in the corner of the room.

He climbs on after her, roughly pulling her hips up and slamming into her from behind.

“Gods, I’ve not taken a woman this good in years” he moans, throwing his head back and gripping her hips tightly as he thrusts hard, spurred on by her cries.

“I wonder if her other hole’s just as good?” August says with a smirk, leaning against the table he just had her bent over.

“Let’s find out” Lloyd replies, spitting on her ass. He pulls out and lines himself up with her tiny puckered hole before pushing himself into her, moaning loudly at the muscles squeezing him tightly in an attempt to force him out.

She lets out a shriek of pain, her body going rigid as she tries, and fails, to get away from the man violating her in a way she didn’t think was possible.

He lets out an evil laugh and pushes her face into the bed as he starts thrusting, going out of his way to hurt her as much as he can.

The noises leaving him as he uses her body for his pleasure are burned into her mind as she prays to the Gods to take her and put an end to the indescribable pain coursing through her body.

He looks down at where he’s thrusting in and out of her and smirks proudly at the sight of blood.

“It’s even better” he grunts to August, gripping her hips so tightly his nails break her skin.

“I’ll have to try it next” August says, slowly stroking himself as he watches Lloyd pound into the woman at their mercy over and over again, moaning to himself at the sound of her cries.

Lloyd lifts her hips higher, thrusting as hard as he can into her at the new angle, turning her cries into screams with every snap of his hip.

He lets out a long moan, throwing his head back as he cums hard, filling her with the same strange warmth August did.

“Gods, I’m doing that again” he pants as he slowly pulls himself out of her bloody back passage before slapping her ass, making her yelp as she collapses into the bed.

“You’ll get your chance. It’s your turn, Nick” August says, getting the attention of the third man standing on the other side of the room.

Until now, he’s not paid much attention to the events happening in the small room, trying to drown out her cries and think of anything other than what he wants to do to her.

It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, but he doesn’t care. He wants her. And it’s his turn to take her.

He slowly walks towards her, removing his armour as he does before gently turning her over and climbing into the bed.

“No more… please” she begs quietly as he spreads her legs with his knees and settles between them.

Asking for mercy is useless, she knows that. All she is to them is an object to seek pleasure from, to defile.

The only thing she can do is close her eyes and brace herself for the pain as he slowly pushes in, a long moan leaving him as he fills her.

But when he starts to move, the pain doesn't come.

She opens her eyes and stares at him, confused, and scared, by what she's feeling.

Why doesn’t it hurt?

Why is it so different?

Why does it feel… nice?

“Gods” she gasps, her eyes fluttering shut as he starts to speed up, letting out a moan that drowns out the one that slips past her lips.

She has no idea what he’s doing differently to August and Lloyd but she prays he keeps doing it because it feels good, amazing even.

Her mind races as she tries to understand what’s happening. Why does she feel bad, so embarrassed and ashamed, when what’s happening right now feels so good?

He moves his hips faster, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he gropes one of her breasts before pinching her nipple hard, pulling another moan from her.

He slowly glides his hand up her chest to around her neck, squeezing the sides. The sudden restriction of air makes her panic and start clawing at his hands, making him squeeze even more.

Her eyes roll back as a weird pressure builds between her legs, making whatever he’s doing to her feel even better.

It suddenly breaks, making her moan loudly as a pleasant burning sensation washes over her, before everything goes black…

VENERIS FILIA TAG LIST: @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @aussieez @identity2212 @fanfics-r-us-official @km-ffluv @ktficworld @sillyrabbit81 @juliaorplI78 @kingliam2019 @thebejeweledwatercat @red-write-hand @queenzee27 @therockandaroll

[euphoriacafe]

You Belong to Me

WARNING: free use??, lewd srry, threesome???, afab reader, fingering, sexual tension, mention of BDSM, aggressive, MDNI

Pairing: Captain Price x Phillip Graves x Female Reader

Summary: Graves is really getting under Captain Price's nerves and Price decides to vent onto you to the point he becomes jealous of the assignment he gives you. Part 2??? Thoughts???

I stood in silence, a vigilant shadow among the elite soldiers of Task Force 141. The weight of my gear felt almost comforting against my frame, a stark contrast to the tension thickening the air around us. My eyes remained fixed on the back of Captain Price, a beacon of unwavering authority amidst the storm brewing in the room.

Commander Phillip Graves, the embodiment of Shadow Company's relentless pursuit of power, stood opposite Captain Price. His presence alone was suffocating, a reminder of the fine line we walked between duty and defiance.

As they exchanged heated words, I couldn't help but feel the weight of their rivalry bearing down on my shoulders. Graves's piercing gaze swept over the room, his eyes lingering on me for a moment too long, a silent challenge that I refused to acknowledge.

"Price, you know damn well this mission is our best shot at taking down Makarov," Graves growled, his voice laced with contempt.

Price's response was measured, his tone cutting through the tension like a blade. "And you think I don't know that, Graves? But sending in a full assault team is suicide. We need a surgical strike, precision over firepower."

I could feel the tension mounting with each passing moment, the air thick with the unspoken threat of violence. But I remained rooted in place, my focus unwavering despite the storm raging around me.

Graves took a step forward, his gaze narrowing on Price. "You're letting your personal agenda cloud your judgment, Price. We can't afford to miss this opportunity."

Price's jaw clenched, his resolve unyielding. "And I won't let you jeopardize the lives of my team for the sake of your ego, Graves."

The room seemed to hold its breath as the two titans locked horns, the weight of their words hanging in the air like a promise of never ending conflict.

Graves scoffed, his eyes flickering to me briefly before returning to Price. "Maybe if you kept a tighter leash on your team, we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place, now would we?"

My jaw clenched at the insinuation. I knew Price could handle himself, but the personal attacks only fueled the fire. I glanced at Captain Price, silently urging him to maintain control.

Price straightened, his gaze unwavering. "Graves, my team is the best damn group of soldiers you'll ever have the privilege to work with. We'll get the job done, with or without your approval."

But before the tension could escalate further, Price turned his gaze to me, a silent command passing between us. Without a word, I fell into formation beside him, a silent reminder of where my loyalty lay.

Graves took a step forward, his gaze locking onto mine for a split second before returning to Price. "You may be the golden boy of 141, Price, but don't think for a second that your reputation grants you immunity from the harsh realities of war."

I exhaled slowly, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins as I turned to face Price. He met my gaze with a knowing look, his eyes conveying a silent reassurance.

As the door slammed shut behind him, I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, the weight of the confrontation lifting from my shoulders

"We'll make this right, Y/N," he said, his voice firm and unwavering. Everything in the air made it known that Price was more than pissed off.

The tension in the room seemed to thicken as the door slammed shut behind Graves, leaving only Captain Price and me in its wake. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, intense and piercing, as if searching for something hidden beneath the surface.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and gruff, "Keep your eyes open, lass, more on Graves, if anything. He's a loose cannon, and I don't trust him as far as I can throw him."

I nodded, my jaw set in determination. "Consider it done, sir."

I nodded, my throat tight with unspoken words. The proximity between us, the charged atmosphere, made it hard to ignore the undercurrents swirling beneath the surface.

Price's gaze narrowed, his face inches away from mine as he spoke in a hushed tone. "This mission's gonna be a bloody mess, but we'll get through it. I know we will...especially when I have my eye on you. "

His words lingered in the air, and I felt the warmth of his breath against my skin as he came closer. The proximity was both unnerving and electrifying, a dance on the edge of something unspoken. The closer he stepped the more his eyes bore into mine, dark and intense, as if daring me to look away.

"He pisses me off, Y/N," he muttered, his breath warm against my skin. "The way he thinks he can waltz in here and call the shots. It's like he's trying to undermine everything we stand for."

I held his gaze, refusing to back down in the face of his frustration. "We won't let him, sir. We'll show him that Task Force 141 doesn't bend to the will of anyone but ourselves."

Price's expression softened, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "That's the spirit, Y/N. Just keep your wits about you, and don't let Graves get under your skin when you watch over him, alright, lass?"

I nodded, a surge of determination coursing through me. "I won't, sir. You can count on me."

My voice almost came off breathy, as I looked up to match his eyes the heat of his hand as he reached out was almost scorching wanting him to touch already.

A sudden knock on the door shattered the moment, and Price pulled away, his expression a mix of frustration and resolve as his voice was rough and quiet. "Damn interruptions."

And with that, Price took a step back, the tension in the room dissipating slightly. "I know I can, Y/N," he said, his voice tinged with pride. "Now let's get to work. Report back to me if anything happens with Graves."

The training room buzzed with activity as Ghost, Soap, and I engaged in rigorous combat drills. The sound of fists meeting pads echoed off the walls, mingling with grunts of exertion and the occasional bark of instruction from our trainers, the sharp clang of metal against metal, the swift thud of boots on the floor. .

I focused on my form, channeling the adrenaline of the upcoming mission into each strike and parry. Beside me, Ghost moved with effortless grace, his movements fluid and precise. Soap, ever the powerhouse, unleashed a barrage of punches with relentless determination.

But amidst our intensity, my gaze kept drifting across the room to where Graves stood with his Shadow Company comrades. They moved with a calculated efficiency, their movements sharp and controlled. Graves watched his men with a critical eye, his expression unreadable as he assessed our performance.

"Focus, Y/N," Ghost's voice snapped me back to the present, his eyes narrowed in concern. "You're letting your guard down."

I nodded, refocusing on the task at hand as I kept punching the punching bag in front of me.

Across the room, Graves moved quickly and steadiness, his gaze piercing as he critiqued the movements of his Shadows. My eyes involuntarily drifted to him once again, analyzing every nuance of his posture, the way he held his weapon, the calculated precision in his steps. It was a habit I'd developed, a skill honed through years of working in the covert world of Task Force 141.

Price's orders resonated in my mind – keep a close eye on Graves, understand his tactics, anticipate his moves. It was a chess game, and I was determined to stay one step ahead. My attention, however, wavered as my thoughts meandered into uncharted territories.

Graves was undeniably attractive, a fact that I acknowledged with a detached professionalism. But in the midst of the training room, my mind took an unexpected turn. Images flickered like elusive shadows – Price, Graves, and myself entangled in a dance of desire. The scenario played out in my mind, a surreal concoction of forbidden fantasies that I struggled to reconcile with the reality of our mission.

I shook my head, attempting to refocus on the training at hand. Ghost and Soap exchanged glances, sensing the shift in my concentration. I forced a smile, pushing the inappropriate thoughts to the recesses of my mind.

As the session progressed, Price joined us in the training room, his eyes scanning the dynamic between Graves and his subordinates. He approached me, his gaze piercing through the layers of my composure.

"Y/N," he said in a low voice, "keep your focus. Graves is a slippery one, and I need you sharp."

I nodded, the gravity of Price's words grounding me. The fantasies dissipated, replaced by a steely resolve.

The training room pulsated with energy as Ghost and Soap engaged in a series of fluid movements on the wrestling mat. Their bodies moved in tandem, a seamless dance of combat that showcased the camaraderie forged through countless missions. Captain Price, ever the hands-on leader, stepped onto the mat, ready to test his skills against his trusted teammates.

I leaned against the wall, observing the intense exchange. Ghost and Soap moved with practiced precision, each maneuver a testament to their training and experience. The sounds of grunts and thuds filled the air as they grappled, a display of raw strength and tactical finesse.

Price joined the fray, his movements fluid and calculated. He sparred with Ghost and Soap, each exchange a symphony of skill and strategy. Despite the controlled chaos on the mat, a heavy tension lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the usual banter that accompanied training sessions.

As I watched the three men grapple, my attention shifted momentarily to Graves, who stood on the sidelines, observing with a smug grin. His eyes locked onto Price, taunting him with a challenge that hung in the air like a storm on the horizon.

"You think you've still got it, Price?" Graves called out, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Or has age finally caught up with you?"

Price shot him a steely glare but continued his sparring with Ghost and Soap. The tension in the room escalated, the weight of unspoken challenges adding an electric charge to the atmosphere.

Ghost and Soap, sensing the undercurrent of tension, increased the intensity of their movements. The grappling on the wrestling mat became more aggressive, each maneuver a subtle assertion of dominance. I could feel the room holding its breath, awaiting the inevitable clash between Price and Graves.

Graves, undeterred by Price's silence, stepped forward, his taunts escalating. "Come on, Price! Show us you're not past your prime. Or are you scared of facing a real challenge?"

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Price finally stepped away from the sparring match. His eyes locked onto Graves, a storm brewing within them. The air became charged with anticipation as the two leaders, each a force to be reckoned with, faced off in a battle of wills.

"Fine," Price growled, the words like thunder in the silence. "Let's settle this."

The wrestling mat became the arena for a different kind of battle, one fueled by personal vendettas and a history of animosity. As Ghost and Soap retreated, creating a makeshift ring for the impending brawl, I watched with a mix of concern and fascination.

I couldn't shake the feeling of impending disaster as Graves arrogantly dismissed my attempt to intervene. I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. "Gentlemen, maybe this isn't the best—"

Graves turned his gaze towards me, a condescending smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, the little lady thinks she knows best," he remarked, his tone dripping with disdain.

Graves his eyes returned back to Price "Sweetheart, this is a man's business. Why don't you step off the mat and let us handle it?"

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Before I could respond, Price interjected with a glare that could cut through steel. "Enough, Graves. Let's get on with it."

Graves chuckled, a patronizing tone underlying his words. "You're getting old, Price. Maybe you need a bit more time to catch your breath."

Price's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. "Enough talk, Graves. Let's see if your skills match your mouth."

The room fell into a tense silence as Ghost and Soap backed away, creating a circle for the impending showdown. I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just a physical clash; it was a battle of egos, a test of dominance that had the potential to fracture the unity of the team.

Price and Graves circled each other like predators, their movements measured and deliberate. And then, with a sudden surge of movement, they clashed.

The sound of bodies colliding echoed through the room, a symphony of brute force and primal instinct. Price and Graves grappled with ferocity, each maneuver executed with precision and determination.

The wrestling match between Captain Price and Graves unfolded with an intensity that seemed to transcend the physical realm. Their bodies collided with a wham that echoed through the training room, the sound of fists connecting and grunts of exertion filling the air. It was a deadly fight, a struggle for dominance played out on the wrestling mat.

Price and Graves grappled, each attempting to gain the upper hand. Their movements were swift and calculated, a chaotic ballet that showcased the raw power and skill of two seasoned warriors. Fists flew, each blow a testament to the unspoken animosity that fueled their rivalry. Graves's men cheered from their side of the mat for him while Ghost and Soap stood arms crossed watching silently.

As I watched, my thoughts swirled in a black sea of conflicting emotions. The air crackled with the energy of their clash, the heavy weight of their egos blinding them to the potential consequences of their actions.

In the midst of the struggle, a dangerous undercurrent of desire flickered within me. It was a treacherous territory, the primal intensity of their fight awakening a forbidden longing and almost tugging on the fantasy. Their bodies entwined in a battle for dominance, their egos waging war, and a part of me yearned for that same fierce determination to be directed toward me.

To have them fight over me, pin me against the mat, to have them fight for control on who gets to own me.

My breath caught in my throat as I felt a wave of heat surge through me. The intensity of the fight seemed to seep into my skin, and I found myself becoming breathless, my pulse quickening. It was a dangerous game, the line between duty and desire blurred by the charged atmosphere in the room.

Their bodies moved with a fluidity that spoke of years of training and combat experience. Each attempt to pin the other to the mat was met with a countermove, a dance of strength and strategy. The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken understanding that this was more than a physical contest—it was a battle for supremacy.

As the wrestling match continued, I couldn't escape the awareness that my desires were navigating through my body. The primal allure of the struggle, the intoxicating scent of sweat and determination, left me feeling disoriented, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic storm.

The realization of the dangerous territory I was treading only heightened the allure, and I felt an internal struggle between duty and the untamed yearning that stirred within me.

The room seemed to close in around me as the fight reached its climax. I was torn between the duty to my team and the intoxicating pull of something forbidden. As their bodies grappled for dominance, I found myself teetering on the edge, a silent spectator to a battle that transcended the physical, leaving me breathless and yearning for something I dared not admit.

Graves's smirk widened as he caught me in a moment of vulnerability, lost in my own thoughts as I watched the aftermath of their brawl. His knowing gaze lingered on me for a moment before he turned away, a silent acknowledgment passing between us.

Captain Price's voice shattered the spell, pulling me back to reality with a jolt as he was looking at me with a deadpanned glare. "Y/N," he called out, his tone firm but jealously. "In my office. Now."

I swallowed hard, tearing my gaze away from Graves and following Price out of the training room. The air crackled with tension as we entered his office, the weight of unspoken frustrations hanging heavy between us.

Price closed the door behind us with a decisive click, his expression tight with frustration. "Graves is a damn nuisance," he muttered under his breath, his frustration palpable.

I nodded in silent agreement, the memory of their brawl still fresh in my mind. But before I could offer any words of reassurance, Price closed the distance between us in a blur of motion.

With a sudden, unexpected movement, he pushed me against the wall, his lips ghosting my neck in a tantalizing caress. My breath caught in my throat, my pulse racing as his proximity ignited a fierce longing within me.

"Price," I whispered, the word a breathless plea as his touch sent shivers down my spine. But he didn't respond, his lips trailing a path of fire along my skin, igniting a firestorm of desire within me.

Every inch of my skin tingled as Captain Price's lips continued their tantalizing journey along my neck. My breath hitched, and I tilted my head back, offering him unrestricted access. His grip on my hips tightened, a silent declaration of possession that sent a shiver through me.

The air in the room crackled with frustration and a potent undercurrent of desire. It was a dangerous game, a dance on the razor's edge of forbidden fantasies and the harsh reality of duty. The line between the two blurred, and I found myself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Price's voice, low and gravelly, resonated in the small confines of his office. "Graves is a thorn in our side, Y/N," he murmured against my skin, his words sending a rush of heat through me. "But I don't like the way you were looking at him."

My heart skipped a beat, and I swallowed hard, the tension in the room escalating. The raw honesty in Price's words hung heavy in the air, a revelation that added an unexpected layer to our already complicated dynamic.

"He's nothing but trouble," he continued, his lips trailing upwards towards my ear. "And I won't have you getting distracted by his games."

His breath fanned over the sensitive skin of my ear, and I struggled to find my voice amid the rising tide of desire. The frustration in Price's words mirrored the tumultuous feelings within me, the magnetic pull of his touch warring with the rational voice urging caution.

His grip on my hips tightened further, his fingers digging into my flesh as if grounding himself. The sexual tension in the room reached a fever pitch, and I could feel the delicate balance between us teetering on the edge.

"I can't have you looking at him that way, Y/N," he growled, the possessiveness in his tone sending a jolt through me. "It's dangerous. I can't afford distractions, especially not when they involve you."

As his words hung in the air, I felt the weight of his frustrations, the tangled web of desire and duty that bound us together. The dangerous game we were playing intensified, and with each passing moment, the line between professionalism and passion blurred, threatening to unravel everything we had built.

A charged silence hung between us as Captain Price's lips hovered dangerously close to mine. The room pulsed with a heady mix of desire and frustration, the air thick with unspoken promises and the weight of the dangerous game we were playing.

His lips finally met mine, a soft, lingering kiss that ignited a fiery passion within me. A low moan escaped my lips, the sound a desperate plea as he deepened the kiss. His fingers tightened on my hips, his touch both possessive and demanding.

"I can't have you looking at anyone else," he murmured against my lips, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "You're mine, Y/N."

The words hung in the air, heavy with implications. I felt a rush of heat pooling between my thighs, the intensity of his desire fueling my own. It was a dangerous revelation, a declaration that sent a thrill through me despite the rational voice warning of the consequences.

Price's body pressed forward, grinding against mine with an urgency that mirrored the pent-up frustrations in the room. The fabric of our clothes created a barrier, yet the undeniable hot tension between us bridged the gap. I could feel his desire coursing through every touch, every kiss, as he bent me forward, my chest against the cool surface of the wall.

His grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh as he held me firmly in place. The raw intensity of the moment overwhelmed me, the boundaries between us eroding with each passing second. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a dangerous game that left me breathless and yearning for more.

"You need to be punished, Y/N," Price growled, his voice a low rumble against my ear. "And you're going to learn that you belong to me and no one else."

His words sent a thrill through me, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. The air crackled with electricity as he held me captive against the wall, his touch possessive and commanding. In that moment, I surrendered to the intoxicating blend of desire and authority, caught in the dangerous web that Price had woven around us.

As Captain Price's hands moved with a commanding force, ripping my pants down and exposing my bare skin, a gasp escaped my lips, the rush of cool air against my heated flesh sending a shiver down my spine. I was vulnerable, exposed, and yet a surge of desire coursed through me, urging me to surrender to the raw intensity of the moment.

His fingers traced the curve of my exposed ass, sending a jolt of electricity through me. A soft moan escaped my lips as he delivered a light, stinging spank to one cheek, the sensation both exhilarating and arousing.

Thoughts raced through my mind in a dizzying whirlwind. The forbidden nature of our encounter, the thrill of surrendering to his dominance, the overwhelming desire to be consumed by him completely. It was a dangerous cocktail of lust and longing that left me breathless and wanting more.

Price's voice, low and commanding, cut through the haze of desire. "You like that, don't you, Y/N?" he murmured, his tone dripping with a mixture of authority and derision. "You're nothing but a naughty little slut, craving punishment."

His words sent a shockwave of arousal through me, the forbidden thrill of being degraded by him igniting a firestorm of desire within me. I bit my lip, fighting to contain the moan that threatened to escape, the tension between us reaching a fever pitch.

Price's grip on my hips tightened, his touch possessive and demanding. With each spank, I felt myself spiraling further into the abyss of desire, my inhibitions crumbling under the weight of his dominance.

"You're mine, Y/N," he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. "And I'll do whatever I damn well please with you."

His words were a potent reminder of the power dynamics at play, the dangerous game we were playing pushing us both to the brink of madness. And in that moment, as he delivered another punishing spank to my exposed flesh, I surrendered completely to the intoxicating blend of pleasure and pain, lost in the heady haze of desire that consumed us both.

The atmosphere in the room thickened as Captain Price's demeanor shifted. His touch became more aggressive, the spanks landing with a force that sent waves of heat through my body. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, my breath catching in my throat as the intensity of the moment escalated.

"Tell me, Y/N," Price commanded, his voice a low growl, "who do you belong to?"

A mix of desire and trepidation coursed through me as I tried to form words. "You," I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible.

Louder, he demanded, "Louder, Y/N. Tell me."

"I belong to you," I answered, the words hanging in the air like a forbidden confession.

Satisfied, Price continued his dominating assault, each spank pushing the boundaries of pleasure and pain. His commanding presence left me breathless, my body responding to his dominance with a surrender that both thrilled and terrified me.

His grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh as he held me firmly in place. "Good girl," he murmured, the praise both unexpected and exhilarating.

The room echoed with the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin, punctuated by my occasional gasps and moans. Price's commanding presence intensified, and I found myself lost in the dangerous dance of desire and submission.

"Who makes the decisions here, Y/N?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the haze of pleasure.

"You," I responded, my voice barely audible above the sounds of our shared intimacy.

"Damn right," he growled, his aggression escalating. "You're mine to command, to please, and to punish."

The air was charged with electricity as his dominant presence enveloped me, the boundaries between pleasure and pain blurring in the intoxicating swirl of our encounter. The spanking continued, each strike sending shockwaves of desire through me, pushing me further into the depths of submission.

As the room spun with a heady mix of pleasure and surrender, I realized that I was teetering on the edge of something profound. The dangerous game we played had unleashed a torrent of desire, leaving me captivated by the magnetic pull of Captain Price's dominance.

A sharp gasp escaped my lips as Captain Price's hands moved with a fierce determination, tearing my underwear apart with a single, forceful motion. The fabric gave way beneath his touch, leaving me exposed and vulnerable, my breath catching in my throat at the sudden rush of pleasure.

I whimpered in a mixture of pleasure and anticipation as his calloused fingers trailed along my soaking clit, sending sparks of ecstasy coursing through me. My hips instinctively arched towards his touch, seeking more of the intoxicating sensation he provided.

"Look at you," Price taunted, his voice laced with a mixture of amusement and desire. "Soaking wet like a little slut."

His words sent a jolt of arousal through me, the raw intensity of his dominance driving me to the edge of sanity. I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper as I struggled to respond.

"It's… it's for you, Price," I managed to gasp, my admission hanging in the air like a confession.

Price's smirk deepened, a glint of skepticism in his eyes as he toyed with me. "Oh, is that so?" he teased, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on my sensitive flesh.

I squirmed beneath his touch, the pleasure bordering on unbearable as he pushed me further towards the edge of ecstasy. "Yes," I moaned, the word a desperate plea for more.

But Price remained unconvinced, his smirk widening as he continued to tease me mercilessly. "I think you might need to prove it to me, sweetheart," he taunted, his voice dripping with amusement.

The air crackled with tension as Captain Price's fingers continued their relentless assault on my clit, driving me to the brink of ecstasy with each skilled stroke. The atmosphere around us was thick with desire, the heat of our shared intimacy suffusing the room with an intoxicating energy that left me breathless and wanting more.

The room seemed to close in around us, the only sounds the sultry moans escaping my lips and the rhythmic squelching of his fingers against my wetness.

Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the room, breaking the spell of our heated encounter. Price's irritation was known, but he never faltered in his ministrations, his fingers working me with a relentless determination that sent waves of pleasure coursing through me.

"Damn interruptions," he muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with frustration. "Can't a man get a moment's peace around here?"

Price's irritation deepened, but his fingers quickened their pace, playing me like a finely tuned instrument. He leaned towards me, his lips brushing against my ear. "You need to be quiet, sweetheart," he murmured, the command sending a thrill through me.

I bit my lip to stifle a moan as Price's fingers delved deeper, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. His dominant presence loomed over me, a silent command to remain quiet despite the overwhelming sensations he elicited.

With a resigned sigh, Price crossed the room to answer the door, his irritation evident in every line of his body. "What do you want, Graves?" he snapped, his tone brusque and dismissive.

Graves stood in the doorway, a smug smirk playing at his lips. "Looking for someone, Price," he replied, his gaze flickering between us with a knowing glint.

As Price opened the door, Graves greeted him with a smug smile. "Price, didn't mean to disturb. I'm looking for Y/N."

Price's irritation flared, but he remained composed as he shot back a rude response. "Well, you won't find her here," he retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Graves's smirk widened, and I could sense the underlying tension between them, a rivalry that extended far beyond the confines of our current situation. But despite the tension, Price's fingers never ceased their relentless assault, driving me closer to the edge with each passing second.

"Is that so?" Graves replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Perhaps I'll just have to look a little harder."

Before Price could offer a more of a response, Graves pushed past him, stepping into the room. Price's fingers never relented, maintaining their steady rhythm as if the interruption had not occurred.

Graves' eyes flickered to me, a mischievous glint in his gaze. "Ah, there she is. Busy, I see."

Price's jaw clenched, his irritation reaching its peak. "Get to the point, Graves."

Graves chuckled, unfazed by Price's irritation. "Just wanted to discuss something with Y/N but I can see the little slut is all out of breath."

A dangerous dance in the shadowy realm of covert desires and forbidden fantasies.

I couldn't contain the breathy moan that escaped my lips as pleasure consumed me, the intensity of Price's touch pushing me closer to the edge. In that moment, with Graves's presence lingering in the air like a shadow, I surrendered completely to the intoxicating pleasure that Captain Price offered, lost in a whirlwind of desire and submission.

As Graves closed the door behind him with a smug flourish, I felt a surge of frustration and arousal course through me. Price's fingers continued their relentless assault, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. The air crackled with tension, a potent mix of desire and frustration that left me breathless and wanting more.

Graves's taunting reply echoed in the room, his condescending tone grating against my senses. I bit back a moan, the intensity of the moment threatening to overwhelm me.

Price's voice, low and commanding, cut through the haze of desire. "You noticed that, didn't you, Graves?" he growled, his eyes blazing with sadistic intent. "She tightened up the moment you walked in."

Graves's smirk widened, a flicker of sadism dancing in his gaze as he exchanged a knowing look with Price. "Seems like she's enjoying herself," he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Price's grip on my hips tightened, his touch possessive and commanding. "She needs to learn her place," he murmured, his words sending a thrill through me despite the underlying threat.

I struggled to maintain control, the overwhelming sensations threatening to consume me. The exchange between Price and Graves heightened the intensity of the moment, the precarious balance between pleasure and pain pushing me closer to the brink.

As Price's fingers quickened their pace, I bit my lip to stifle a moan, the raw intensity of the moment threatening to unravel me completely. The air was heavy with anticipation, a heady mix of desire and dominance that left me trembling with need.

In that moment, as Price and Graves exchanged looks of sadism, a primal instinct took hold of me. I surrendered completely to the intoxicating blend of pleasure and pain, lost in the fiery embrace of their dominance.

This was going to be a long night.

I'M GOING TO MAKE A PART TWO.

[savannahrose223]

Warnings

Her psychopath  is a dark, taboo, horror romance novella with tropes and themes that are not for everyone. This book is intended to be consumed by mature readers who want their heroes unapologetically stabby and their heroines just as twisted as their love interests.

The tropes, triggers, and kinks in this book are such as stated below:

1. Sexually explicit scenes

2. Decapitation

3. Self-harm

4. Accidental castration

5. Intentional castration

6. Sex without a condom

7. Mention of suicide prevention

8. Mention of rape

9. Mentions of murder

10. Mention of child abuse & child sexual assault

11. Child sexual assault

12. Blood play

13. Knife play

14. Daddy kink

15. Pseudonecrophilia

16. Death play

17. Body modification

18. Blood painting

19. Mask kink

20. Age gap

21. Bullying

22. Mention of adoption

23. Virgin main characters

24. Step-siblings

25. Stalking

27. A hero who watches the heroine as she sleeps

28. Threats of sexual assault

29. Attempted sexual assault

30. Gun violence

31. Physical assault

32. Slapping

33. Bondage

34. Starvation

35. Mention of underage drinking

This is book is the novella version.

If u think u are being stalked call the cops because apparently this shit only look cool in fictions in reality u r gonna piss your pants !!!Enjoy the story if you wish to continue.

Your mental health matters.

[tackyink]

This was supposed to be for @asususasa but in the middle of writing I thought this could be useful for someone else, so here's Tacky's general list of otome recs. It took me over an hour to write so I'm not proofreading it.

DS

Not much to say here because back in those days otome games didn't get localized. The stand outs are Tokimeki Memorial Girl's Side 1st Love Plus and Tokimeki Memorial Girl's Side 2nd Season, who have English fan translations. Slice of life games where you play as the protagonist through her three years of high school. And if you feel like a student-teacher romance that would make Sakura Kinomoto's mom proud, these are your games.

PSP

Still well into the no localizations era with one exception: Hakuouki Demon of the Fleeting Blossom. Not recommending it on PSP because there are better versions. Tokimeki Memorial Girl's Side 3rd Story Premium also has a fan translation and should be played over its DS counterpart because it has added functionalities. Sadly this time around the teacher is a secret character and a shota.

3DS

There's Hakuoki Memories of the Shinsengumi. Still not recommended because we can do better.

PS3

Hakuouki Stories of the Shinsengumi includes the original game and the fandisk with some neat animations added. This is the version to play if you want the original experience. If you want even more routes, go for another version.

Vita

Hakuoki Kyoto Winds and Edo Blossoms, Collar x Malice and Amnesia are the best games you can get for the Vita imo. Some people dig a lot the Psychedelica of the Ashen Hawk and Psychedelica of the Black Butterfly (I've only played BB, it was good but wasn't the best; wouldn't rate it as high as the others). There's Code Realize and its two fandisks (Future Blessings and Wintertide Miracles) and many people swear by them, but while I liked the common route in the first game, the rest didn't do it for me. You can find all of these except CxM and the CRs on Steam, and the Hakuoki games get dirst cheap on sale. Best bang for your buck of the saga. The CR games have PS4 ports and CxM has a Switch one, which you already know.

Switch

*rolls up sleeves* LET'S GO.

To get it out of the way: Hakuouki KW and EB are getting a Switch rerelease and a new translation and will be released as a single game, Hakuoki Chonicles of Wind and Blossom, on August 1st.

Collar x Malice fucking nails the mystery and lowkey horror vibes with and excellent plot that's interconnected in every route. CxM Unlimited is its fandisk and only recommended if you really have the CxM itch, because it's mostly fluff and the little plot there is is at most functional. It has a route where Ichika joins Adonis and you get to see its inner workings though. That was very interesting.

Bustafellows is 100% found family vibes with a very assertive protagonist. It's a mystery/action story and the team dynamics are sort of Ocean's 11-ish. Hilarious, heartbreaking at times, I've never felt more dread in a game than heading towards the basement in a certain's guy's route. There are two unlockable stories after you finish the routes of the guys, one of which I thought was glorious, another which sets up a sequel and is a big downer but I also really liked. It gets heavy at times with murder, suicide, sexual assault, human trafficking, among other kinds of violence, but despite it, it's generally a very funny and upbeat game. We're getting the sequel next year. Also available on PC.

Café Enchanté baits you with the premise of being a girl who manages a coffee shop patronized by handsome supernatural beings, so it's a real surprise when the cannibalism shows up. Anyway. Great game, but I'm afraid saying more would kind of defeat the point. Reminds me of Megami Tensei games, so if coffee shop AUs with supernatural world-ending threats are your thing, go for it. Just be warned that the fandom has kind of collectively agreed that poster boy's route never happened.

Birushana is a hidden gem that goes on sale super cheap and is also probably a hit or miss thing. You play as the legendary Yoshitsune, who in this game is a girl disguising her gender, but she's an amazing warrior as in history. It has the best otome couple I've ever seen, bar none, with Yoshitsune and Noritsune. The game is worth the price just to see them fall in love on the battlefield and watch Noritsune chug down Respect Women Juice all the way through it. The thing is... the rest of routes aren't great. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed how utterly unhinged they got at times, but the plot got worse as it deepened. Still. Noritsune. And I loved that most of the guys respected her as a warrior and were aware she was as capable or a better warrior than them and she didn't need a man to protect her. Very refreshing. One of my faves got done dirty by the translation because they started pulling lines out of thin air to make him creepier. Just him. Why. It's not like he needed the help.

Virche Evermore Error Salvation is also a good one if you can handle continuous drama and see egregiously bad science and say, "You know what? It's magic. Humans in this world are just built different." The worldbuilding is really interesting and the characters very enjoyable, though they don't feature a lot in each other's routes or aren't that friendly with each other. The continuous tragedy may tire you out, or maybe it'll work and emotionally destroy you. It didn't get any emotional reaction out of me until a certain point near the end, but I enjoyed the game a lot, nevertheless. We're getting the sequel this November and I'm really looking forward to it.

Variable Barricade: a fun romp where a young heiress has to chose a fiancé among the four disaster bachelors her grandpa has selected. It's not really similar to Ouran, but it reminded me a little of it at times. It's a pretty light game. The BFF is a gothic lolita otaku who has the time of her life shipping you with the guys, and the butler... oh boy the butler.

Amnesia, as I mentioned earlier, has a PC port as well as the Vita version, as well as two localized fandisks for the Switch (Amnesia x Crowd) that I can't speak of because I haven't played them yet. The protagonist has supernatural amnesia and must piece together her life while avoiding that other people realize she's lost her memory. It's a super intriguing game the first time you play, really nailed the being completely and utterly lost in the protagonist's shoes. A required play to get in on the cage jokes. It's sort of a rite of passage for otome gamers.

Jack Jeanne has probably the best group dynamics of any otome I've seen. I think some people have issues with the protagonist because they find her passive, but to me she felt the complete opposite. Everybody is adorable. A sentimental story of hard work, being young and and fighting for your dreams, 10/10, no notes. I lied, there's a note: Tanakamigi deserved a route! Where is our Tanakamigi route! щ(゜ロ゜щ)

Last but not least at all, the two Piofiores. Mafia games where all trigger warnings you can think of apply. Well, maybe not the cannibalism, that's still Café Enchanté's crowning glory. Fated Memories, the first one, has its ups and downs, but has very enjoyable characters, rock-solid worldbuilding, an amazing atmosphere set in 1920s Italy with a jazzy soundtrack that ends up living rent free in your brain. The last routes of the first game, Gil's and Finale, are worth the full price of the game alone. Piofiore Episodio 1926 is a masterpiece of the otome genre. It doesn't have a single boring route, and the final stretch (Advent Calendar-Alternativa-Secret Character route) has the best writing I've seen in an otome. Lots of points of view and situations interconnecting, an excellent final couple, top notch interactions between the main characters. Just the best.

[radioluminescentoblivion]

Hazbin Hotel: The Corruption of Creativity. Part 2 

1. Continued Discussion (Also Spoilers)

I wanted to continue talking about the problems with the show in part 1, but since this crossed the line between the art and the artist in terms of discussing two different subject matters, it made it rather difficult to try and divide it up. So this goes off from the additional notes I made for the show and transitions into the problems I have outside of it from behind the scenes. This post will go into more about Vivziepop, the community, and her controversies and how this impacts not only the show but her bottom line as well. 

BE WARNED, this will include some serious topics like Sexual Assault, Harassment, Death Threats, Misconduct, and Suicide. Read at your own caution…

2. Angel and Valentino: A tone-deaf understanding of the source material 

I left this part out of the first post because this would be the point where I transitioned into the issues that led me out of the show onto reality. But I’ll still talk about this segment in Episode 4: Masquerade to provide context. In the episode, Vaggie persuades Charlie to be more commanding around the hotel to get things done or in Charlie’s words “aggressively kind” about her being the boss of the hotel, she marches up to Valentino’s studio where Angel Dust is having a sex scene filmed and he gets worried and wants her to leave but she doesn’t listen. She comes across Valentino who has a no-more subtle approach to Charlie’s presence. Valentino resumes the film but Charlie gets in the way and mayhem ensues: this enrages Valentino and prompts him to put out the fire that Charlie caused, leading to an uncomfortable scene where Angel Dust gets abused in his dressing room as Val berates him and reminds him who he belongs to. Afterward, Charlie gets upset and is about to go off on Valentino but Angel Dust intervenes and yells at Charlie to leave. This then transitions to the infamous song “Poison” by Blake Roman. The next scene continues with Angel Dust crashing on Husk’s bar table demanding some hard alcohol to numb the pain.  

When I first watched this scene I could feel the raw potential of how this went out, how despite the show’s pacing still had a slow-burning impact on the viewer to appropriately leave a bad taste in their mouth (no pun intended). You can see and feel the devastating impact laid down on Angel Dust by his abusive boss and with the additional context from the music video Addict where he has his soul sold to Valentino where he gets sexually assaulted and abused, it only makes it more depressing. Angel Dust’s relationship is a horrifying reality that many people in the sex industry face every day which makes it all the worse for marginalized people such as POC, women, LGBTQIA, and all of the above. Sure it’s not the best depiction of an abusive relationship I’ve seen in media, but it does drive the point home, it also makes it more reassuring to see Angel Dust open up his feelings towards Husk, expressing empathy to each other more and even have a song about it with “Loser Baby”. This draws them closer than before and results in Charlie apologizing for her slip-ups with Angel forgiving her. 

Episode 4 is a bittersweet example of when the show goes into a direction differing from the main plot that focuses on the side characters in a way that matters most and builds up on who they are as people and how they might one day be redeemed from being sinners. On its own, the episode is a good case of how the show can work with its stories to display the varied life of Vivziepop’s vision of hell. However, the perspective of the narrative becomes very contradictory when it goes outside the story. 

On December 9th, 2023, a Twitter user and creator known as UninformedArtist posted screenshots from a deleted user account of a storyboard lead from Helluva Boss/storyboard artist from Hazbin Hotel, R2ninjaturtle or Raphielle. R2 has made art centered mostly around Angel Dust and Valentino, sometimes Vox (The TV-headed demon) in non-consenting scenarios and other explicit interactions. And with Vivziepop engaging with R2’s post featuring Vale and Angel in these situations with a lighthearted giggityness to it, creates a huge form of whiplash. 

Now normally if this was an artist outside the Spindle Horse team, I wouldn’t mind this too much and just take this as someone expressing their taboo kinks—that happens a lot. However…this is coming from someone who works on a show that features an abusive sexual relationship that is supposed to be taken seriously. And yet, you have an artist who works on this show who has a kink for sexual assault and abuse and the creator of the show who hired this person is getting all cutesy about it. Are y’all starting to see the red flags here? 

If this was a show that didn’t take itself seriously and wanted to make some edgy humor similar to how Sir Pentious got railed by everybody in the nightclub in episode 6 (which also doesn’t help Viv’s case since these things are supposed to be taken seriously.) But that isn’t the case, it wants to have its cake and eat it too. You want to make this show highlight the dark side of the sex industry, Yet you also make a light joke about rape in the show while having someone who gets turned on by that to work on that same show. This also demolishes the message of the abuse even further when you have R2 and Vivziepop herself getting excited over “Angest” Pins of Angel Dust and Husk being chained to their masters. 

If this still doesn’t seem like a conflict of interest to you for trying to convey the point about sexual assault, abuse, etc. Imagine if I made a story about genocide: I display the horrifying realities of how a marginalized group of people being oppressed by the ruling majority class try everything in their power to kill, erase, displace, and steal from the people they hate so much and want to destroy to the very roots that no one will ever forget in gruesome detail, everyone from friends, family, and enemies are being systemically wiped out by these fascist’s monstrously distorted pursuit of glory. 

Imagine me making all that…but, ✨WE HAVE A NEW MERCH DROP✨ Now you too can get your starving mother holding her dead child in her arms grieving, not only that, I also meme and get excited about someone’s art depicting those same people getting persecuted and ethnically cleansed for sexual gratification, YAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!11 

Do you see how fucked up this is now?

But that’s not even the worst part about it. As more people started to show disgust and concern over this stuff, one of whom was a minor (I won’t say their name for their security you can read the thread yourself) this resulted in R2 saying some pretty fucked up stuff to this minor, using vulgar language directed towards this individual, not even doing the bare minimum of checking the person’s account to see if it was a younger person or not. It still wouldn’t excuse the behavior regardless of age, but this makes it all the worse.  

Now I will give credit where credit is due (which ain’t a lot here) R2 did apologize for their comments made, but it was more of a backhanded response, and when a user pointed out the flaws in this comment, they simply responded: “Stay Mad”. On top of having to victim-blame a minor for being uncomfortable seeing this imagery, Vivziepop herself also chimed in with the victim-blaming, claiming how R2 was “joking” and that “You can’t always know the age of a random Twitter account you’re clowning on”. Even though they had their age on their Twitter account which is wild to me. She also goes on to say they don’t have a lot of influence on the show and that they’re harmless. 

I’m not here to tell viv that R2 should be fired, I don’t think they’re a danger either, and it probably would’ve helped to just block R2 and move on from such gruesome imagery. That being said, that doesn’t excuse someone for sexually harassing a minor or for the creator of a show to double down on it. I hope R2 and Viv can learn from this experience and try to do better. 

I want to be clear here I’m not trying to “cancel” people for having different tastes regardless of how people view it on a personal moral ground. I’m not saying Viv has to fire someone because they think this way, I’m not even saying that you can’t have any moments of nuance about a difficult situation in your own way and cope with it, that’s fine, that’s healthy. What isn’t healthy is sexually harassing people online and begrudgingly victim-blame a minor for coming across this shit. And it doesn’t make your work look genuine when you have someone who works on the storyboards of your show who gets off on the very thing you’re trying to take seriously.  At that point, you’re not trying to make a serious story, you’re making a rape fantasy for someone. This wouldn’t be that big of a deal if this was supposed to be taken at heart as a real issue. 

If this was just this related incident that was the biggest controversy for Vivziepop, I wouldn’t bat too many eyes. But unfortunately, you’ve read the title, you’ve read the warnings, so you know this isn’t where it ends. 

3. SpindleHorse Workplace Misconduct

It’s not any news that allegations of misconduct at SpindleHorse Studios have been buzzing around since Helluva Boss was made into a YouTube series. These allegations have been met with both skepticism as well as a concern as to how things were going behind closed doors at SpindleHorse, but these allegations would grow and become more of a problem when animators who worked on Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel spoke out about it, giving their experiences about workplace culture, low wage pay, and fears of speaking out on these issues because of retaliation from Viv, her team or the rabid fanbase. Some of the employees and contractors even spoke out anonymously for fear of getting blacklisted and targeted by the community. That being said, it wasn’t always a nightmare for some people who worked at the studio, and some that worked there have mentioned it being a pleasant experience, but I’ll get to that later. All these things plus more are mentioned in a passionfruit article that I’ll link below for a further read. It’s pretty damning. 

But I’ll mention some of the keynotes that are worth mentioning:

Low Pay Wages on Clean-Up Animation

Users like Chai posted on January 5th, 2024 on Twitter how clean-up artists are offered a low pay of 35$ a second of rough animation. Not literal seconds mind you, but $35 a completed animation per second, that’s $1.45 for every 24 frames. For reference, according to ZipRecruiter: The average pay for a work-at-home animation clean-up artist is lower than this with a rate of $29 an hour nationwide

https://www.ziprecruiter.com/Salaries/Work-From-Home-Animation-Clean-Up-Artist-Salary#Hourly

(this isn’t an exact figure to go by for all clean-up artists nor do I know all the financial ins and outs of animation, so I may be wrong on some math here.) It's not as bad, but it's still low. One freelance animator mentioned that when Helluva Boss was on pause for Hazbin’s production, they had no choice to find another source of income so they had to deal with the low pay and stressful job that ultimately wasn’t even worth it in the end after finishing Hazbin Hotel. While this is nothing new in the animation industry (especially one where it's the most thankless and underpaid job), the wages can vary depending on the project, location, industry, etc it just goes to show that this is a recurring practice within the industry that really needs to change. Be it for animators or artists alike. It’s one thing to make a passion project with your closest friends and partners or people who need an extra buck and aren’t suffering, it’s another to offer up underpaid jobs with slave labor wages and then suddenly make it seem as if desperate people have a “choice” to work or not it's no more unacceptable than those who defend such practices. 

“The job was voluntary, nobody was being forced into taking less money”

This is a sentiment that is brought up a lot by Neylan in the article. I’m well aware that Neylan said they had a fixed budget and had to lock the budget to adapt rates for things to work out. Now I could understand this being something for newbies getting into work for the animation industry for a first-time experience, but to make it seem like this was a part-time job to work at is baffling to me, especially for something seen as a passion project, which to me, is a code word for work for me for free/less money. Not to mention, the notion of “no one is forcing you” is one that is echoed frequently in other abusive industries like the video game industry (despite these people having no other choice to find another job to survive.) 

No Human Resources

As of now, SpindleHorse has no Human Resources or dedicated HR person aside from Neyland himself who performs such tasks as coordinating and firing freelancers and works as the production supervisor at the company. Though he mentions that something they’re hoping to fix in the future. I guess it remains to be seen. 

 Fear of speaking out

It's not a surprise that people become weary when speaking out about their experiences in or out of SpindleHorse. Freelance artists such as Erin Frost wrote in a tweet thread before getting deleted about her experiences at SpindleHorse and her frustrations with people not believing her when being open about the unstable and abusive environment working with Viv and how she got a note sent by one of her lawyers as a scare tactic.

https://ben-the-hyena.tumblr.com/post/699242311996047360 

Artists Ken Cook and Nicholas Jordan also spoke out about the bombardment of harassment from fans. With Ken, making a whole pdf on their circumstances of crediting their work and ideas.

https://www.docdroid.net/zyvFyCb/kens-experience-pdf

The pdf also gives some transparent insight into Vivziepop’s workflow in conceptualizing and executing stories. As well as some horrible accusations against Ken such as grooming and trying to steal viv’s IP of Hazbin Hotel despite clearly stating that wasn’t their intention, on top of gaslighting and bigotry such as transphobia and acephobia. 

I could go on about Vivziepop’s history of manipulative and toxic behavior toward friends and peers, but for the sake of relevance, I wanted to keep it mostly tied around 2018-2024. When viv isn’t directing her venomous ire towards her colleagues that she doesn’t like or agree with, she directs it towards those outside her work/friendspace. 

Kedikatzen is an artist who made a webcomic back in the days of old that is now discontinued. Judging from the discussion, I’ll assume it was around anywhere from 2014-2018, but I’m not sure, Kedi/Katt was not only bullied by viv herself but got harassed by her zealous fans. All Kedi wanted was an apology but never received one, forcing her to delete her personal accounts and avoid the internet for a while before coming back in hopes of starting over, until she heard news of other people speaking out and wanted to also chime back in just to prove this wasn’t an isolated incident. In 2020, Viv was making big accusations of stalking, harm, and threatening to use lawyers against Katt (noticing a pattern?)  All while acting like the victim here when she clearly wasn’t. 

She also explains how Viv went to a con in Georgia at one point and met up with April, a person she had beef with in the past, and when April wanted to clear things up with no hard feelings, resulting in viv to tweet about April “stalking” her which in turn made her rabid fans send death threats to her which she deleted and then made an apology about.

But even when it’s not towards other creators, she’s also had a history of being very defensive towards her critics, often deflecting legit critiques, getting salty about criticism as a concept or critics as people, getting defensive about people just having slight gripes, etc. 

As someone who is a critic myself (I mean you are reading this) it's not surprising that you will come across bad critiques of things and that people will either be trolls or just assholes, but for those that have genuine criticism, viv tends to lump them all together despite saying she thinks the criticism is important for growth when it's obvious that isn’t exactly what she wants. I’ve sent tweets to her at one point calling out these bad takes on criticism, but that was ages ago and unfortunately, I don’t have those tweets on me—sorry y’all.

And now we get to our final and easily one of the most depressing segments of this post, which is the dark side of fandoms and the damage they can cause. 

4. Fanaticism

It goes without saying that the community for vivziepop has garnered some of the most abysmal, delusional, toxic, and manipulative fan base since Steven Universe if not worse. I’ve seen a lot of shitty people in fandoms, but this takes the cake of it being up there with the greats such as: MLP, FNAF, Steven Universe, etc. It’s quite amazing how such a community is so dedicated in all the best and worst ways.

But all jokes aside, the vivziepop community has had a long radioactive history of having the most deranged of fans sick themselves to those they deem less than worthy of respect or decency. So much so that some will even dehumanize others be it in or outside the fandom, and lose their shit over the most trivial of inconsistencies. Obviously, this isn’t supposed to be a sweeping generalization of everyone, just a focus on those who have lost their cool. 

This makes situations all the worse when the leader herself has something unflattering to say to someone she doesn’t like. Viv is known to both intentionally and unintentionally enable her fans to attack people, innocent or not. Now that’s not to say Vivziepop herself is all to blame here, nor does that mean she hasn’t made any… “attempts” to apologize, but it was more just playing the victim card and slapping some backhanded response on it. 

Though this is older she might’ve made more “apologies” over time, so if someone has a more recent example of this, please let me know. 

However, this leads us to the most crucial part of this post which is the story of Shay and how they took their life. 

The document opens with an introduction from a person named Liv who explains the story of how Shay was a young queer neurodivergent fan who got to be part of the community around the days of the Hazbin Hotel pilot, Livestreams, and Huniecast, Shay was a massive fan of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss that she would collect an abundance of merchandise in support of the show, holding Vivziepop to high praise as a creator. They would also share and like posts from social media to further spread their infatuation with the media. 

Those involved in the screenshots were part of a fan discord server dedicated to HH and HB and shared their love for specific ships like RadioDusk (Alastor and Angel Dust), this ship would be widespread in the server at the time until around the middle of 2023, with new members who had a focus on the HuskerDust ship (Husk and Angel Dust). This new inclusion of members began fueling flames with their support for their ship, creating a resentful environment towards RadioDust fans, this fueled the flames of what would be a digital turf war between ships in the server and the internet at large on different social media sites all from the same community, some bouts of which have been around for quite some time and continue to this day. 

On December 12th, 2023, Shay showed gratitude for an administrator stepping in to stop the barrage of harassment by HuskerDust fans over Shay’s comments on the ship made them uneasy due to the age gap and coerciveness of it. Shay felt that their moments of joy in the community just wasn’t there like the good old days with Ashley, Michael, and Ed, but now it's just resorted to ship wars, with Vivziepop herself partaking in these petty engagements and enabling the toxic mentality of the HuskerDust shippers. But despite all this, they continue to support viv and hold her in high esteem. 

Later in the year, Shay would pay for the ultimate package that was available at the time for early access to Hazbin Hotel ($80 no shipping) to show their support for the show and new cast but felt iffed by the growing pain that would be the HuskerDust shippers on Twitter, this was also between the time of the teaser’s release and trailer’s. As these HuskerDust shippers grew more zealous towards those who had different ship preferences like Shay, it made them step away from their position of being a RadioDust shipper in turn for something more middle ground in not wanting any ship to be on top of another. 

On December 11th, 2023, the conversation between Shay came back again expressing more disheartening feelings about the state of the fandom how they don’t belong anywhere, and how further in the conversation after some downtime, Shay feels out of place and like garbage and that they feel greatly disappointed about Vivziepop’s continued enablement of this mob mentality. 

This would be the same time the HuskerDust ship would be teased on Twitter and Instagram by the voice cast and animators, making an already overloaded community of rabid shippers go even crazier. Shay would continue to spiral into emotional distress. How they felt betrayed by Vivziepop for choosing one side and enabling their behavior, Shay expressed hopelessness and felt sick—this would be the last time they ever posted.

On December 13th, 2023, the Hazbin Hotel trailer dropped with praise from the community, especially with the HuskerDust fans in awe of this post, pushing the envelope further. https://twitter.com/HazbinHotel/status/1734999724397035963 

Eden (the one who took the screenshots) was concerned and tried to reach out to Shay, but made no progress with Shay’s accounts being deactivated, after Shay left the server, Eden followed suit the leading day and tried to contact them, however, it proved to be impossible since they didn’t friend them and sending a message only prompted the discord bot to notify Eden that they couldn’t message Shay since they don’t share servers anymore. Eden did however get in contact with a close friend of Shay’s known as Mari, and since then Mari had ceased supporting Vivziepop’s work after the incident.  

On December 14th, Mari got in contact with Shay’s sister as they expressed their worries of Shay’s attempt at suicide. Further screenshots that are mostly blurred show multiple attempts were made directed to the Hazbin Hotel team to call out such destructive behavior. 

None of them received any response from the team or Vivziepop herself. 

Mari and Shay’s sister would continue to keep in touch with updates on Shay’s condition until 26-27 of December, Shay died from serious gastrointestinal injuries from drinking household cleaning acid, causing her to cough up blood, and having been sent to the hospital on December 13th. The last screenshot messages include Shay’s sister and Mari in grief over the passing of not only a friend but a loved one. 

Liv further explains that they were a HuskerDust shipper at one point, but now feels a deep loathing and regret at such a title, their statements close with sorrow, and urge people to be wary of such dangers a fandom can cause. 

5. Conclusion

I didn’t really have plans on making this deep dive at first, especially seeing how there were a lot of moving elements to this saga, some of which were far too extensive to cover all the controversies, critiques, drama, etc. I wanted to make this as condensed and digestible as possible. Though I realize this wasn’t the best-formatted post, I guarantee this has some issues that can be fixed in the future (assuming anyone gives a shit). 

The point of making this post isn’t to “cancel” Vivziepop, but rather highlight the VERY consistent pattern of egotistical behavior that she has displayed over time, how she intentionally uses manipulative tactics to gain leverage over people and weaponizes her audience against those she disapproves off. Vivienne Medrano has not changed for the better and unless she takes a little self-reflection on her actions, she never will. If her silence on someone taking their life over the consecutive harassment and death threats from HER fans doesn’t ring any bells on how she really views her audience and other people, I don’t know what will. Vivizepop has shown everyone how she has no stability in running a full studio or maintaining a healthy social presence (indie or otherwise) and how she should invest in her personal demons rather than value fictional ones over others. 

If you are a fan of Vivziepop and her work or were on the fence about it before, I hope this provides some clear context as to why she “Gets non-stop hate” and that it would be wise to reconsider your loyalty or support for her at face value. I want this post to be an important message for those who still love Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, this isn’t about me being a “hater” but someone who wants you to be cautious just like I was when I first heard about these allegations. 

If you’re still not convinced about what I or many, many, many others have been saying for years. Perhaps it would help if I came from a more vulnerable position? (Not the most original but whatever)

When I was first introduced to Vivziepop’s work by my sister, I instantly fell in love with her work with her Die Young fan animation. Since then, I was never the same, and as I mentioned in my last post, I got indulged in her craft and was introduced to not only her community but the furry community as well. I kept tabs on her zoophobia comic and her other works, supporting her along the way. Vivziepop’s style of art and animation greatly influenced me over time and I propped her up as a major influence in my art and I still do to this day. One of my favorite characters of hers was Clarrisa, Fabian’s daughter from Zoophobia (we never saw her in the comic doe). Clarrisa would inspire me to create a character heavily inspired by her called Clair (I’ll more than likely work around the name to not make it as obvious) she was the first character I took seriously in my pursuit of art when I otherwise wouldn’t have cared or taken it seriously before. What started as one concept for a character with a fox based on another person’s character, would spark an entire list of stories with their worlds and characters—and I had Vivziepop to look up to for that. 

But knowing that this is the same person I looked up to as a source of inspiration, leaves a poisonous taste in my mouth that can never be washed off. I no longer support Vivienne now or in future unless she has shown that she is really willing to take major strides to improve herself. As it stands now, she’s left a legacy of pain conflicting with future potential with new creatives. I don’t ask for people to stop loving her work because guess what? I still love her work too in some areas, I just won’t support her anymore. (at least financially or influentially). 

If you are a fan of her work, own it and keep making and loving what you do, draw fanart, make redesigns, have your ships, write fanfictions, etc. Two realities can exist: you can enjoy someone’s work, but also recognize when someone is a massive piece of shit who makes donkey dooky. (Hello Warrior Cats fans).

Shit sun, I’m still making fan art for some zoophobia characters because I still love those characters or their designs, I ain’t special!

“You know, for the longest time I thought you were cool…”

Final Thoughts:

I honestly didn’t expect this uh…rant/analysis? To be this winded, I apologize if there are segments in here that are just a mess, if y’all have any constructive feedback, that would be appreciated. Or maybe I’m just a big meanie that needs to self deletus? Idk, I highly doubt this post will get much attention. I could’ve spent all this time and energy drawing my characters kissing each other or somthin. But here I am, making a totally original post about a creator I’ll never meet. But, if you are a vivziepop fan old or new and you feel like this post has done some justice or resonated with you, then I’m glad! I know there are some really good people in the community who aren’t alone on this and feel the same way, and I understand…I think. 

Anyways. I’ll just leave some sources here and give credit to the people who made these posts linked here, if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t really be in this position now to raise awareness on this controversial topic. Please support these people below, don’t harass anyone or be a massive bigot for those I critiqued or featured here, be civil for fuck sakes, and yeah. I hope y’all have a good one.

Rest in Peace Shay- 2003-2023

Sources:

[topguncortez]

Bad Medicine | Chapter 11

previous part | Masterlist | Next Part

synopsis: A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good.

word count: 5.0k

warnings: guns, drugs, mentions of prostitution, mentions of physical assault, mentions of sexual violence, mentions of torture, mentions of suicide, physical violence, nudity, steamy scenes, guns, mentions of graphic images, murder, fighting, mentions of threats, character death.

In the quietness of the early morning, the only sound that could be heard throughout the mansion was the soft echo of Y/N’s footsteps as she moved down the hallway.She softly knocked on the large wooden door in front of her, staring at her slippers as she waited for an answer. It took a couple seemingly endless minutes before the door opened, revealing a half asleep Rooster. 

She offered a soft smile, “Can you teach me how to fight?”

The words alone made Rooster feel more awake, a smile breaking out across his face as he nodded his head at her, “Did you seriously wake up at six am to come ask me that?” Y/N nodded and he chuckled, “Give me 10 minutes, meet me down in the studio.” 

Buried down in the Seresin Mansion was the large basement. Y/N had only wandered down there a handful of times, one of the most memorable had been on her first night here. Since then, she had avoided the ‘Chamber’ and so had everyone else. Jake had vowed to himself after that night, that all torture and “business” agreements would happen outside of the mansion. Y/N had found herself in the basement other times though, digging around and looking at the various rooms. The boys had converted one room into a workout/fight studio. It had mats, various weights and equipment laying around. She often found herself hiding against the wall watching Jake and Rooster spar, their gorgeous bodies attacking each other with punches, and ultimately would lead to Rooster pining Jake to the mat. 

Y/N wore a pair of tight athletic shorts and a tank top, as she waited nervously for Rooster. She had some fighting experience,  just a couple of moves Reuben and Gianni had taught her, but other than that, she was otherwise defenseless. She didn’t like carrying a gun, even though Jake had suggested she does. The fight she had with Isabella was based on pure anger, and she was smaller than Y/N, making it easier for her to overpower her. 

Rooster sauntered into the ring, wearing just a pair of boxing shorts. She couldn’t help but look him up and down, his toned muscles on display. The wound on his abdomen was nearly healed, leaving another pink scar on his body. She watched as he walked over to a table and grabbed some ace wrap and tape. 

“For your fists,” Rooster said, gently taking her wrist in his hand. She held her hand up as he wrapped her fists, “So what do you know? I’m guessing you know some stuff?” 

“Payback and Gianni taught me the basics,” Y/N said, “Basic hand to hand.” 

“That’s really all you need to know. You’re always gonna be protected.” Rooster grabbed her other hand and started wrapping it. 

“That’s what I don’t want. I don’t want to… rely on you guys to always come save me.” 

Rooster nodded, placing the wrap back down on the bench, “Alright Muhammad Ali, show me what you got.” 

“I think more like Vinny Paz,” Y/N said as she climbed through the ropes. Rooster chuckled as he walked up, “Don’t hold back,” Rooster nodded as he brought his fists up, squaring up with her. 

Y/N walked around the ring, watching as Rooster bounced on the balls of his feet. She lunged first, going to swing at his face, but Rooster blocked it. They shuffled around, dodging each other’s swings. Rooster occasionally would give her small pointers on how to hold her hands, or to fix her stance. He would tell her different moves to try and how to get out of different situations. Y/N kicked up her leg, going to strike Rooster in the side, but he grabbed her leg, and tackled her to the ground. She landed on her back with a thud, her breath leaving her lungs. He moved off her quickly, sitting back on his heels and watching as she pushed herself up. 

“Keep going,” She said and Rooster nodded, pushing himself up. 

He watched her every move, letting her get some hits in. Rooster had explained some basic grappling techniques on how she could overpower her opponent. Y/N went and swung at his face, which Rooster dodged, and sent a hit across her face. He gasped as the hit sent her flying to the ground. He kneeled down next to her, reaching out to help her, but Y/N held her hand up stopping him. 

“Are you okay? Did I hit your nose?” Rooster asked her. 

“Quit going easy on me,” She whispered, “Going easy on me isn’t going to help me get better.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you, I’m just trying to help you. Fighting takes a lot of skill, we need to go slow.” 

“Do you think, given the chance, Francisco would go easy on me?” Y/N asked. 

“No, I don’t,” Rooster said, “I’m going to tell it to you straight, cause I know the rest of them will keep this shit from you. He left a note in Isabella’s hand, a warning basically. I’ve dealt with fuckers like Francisco before, and they don’t stop until they reach their goal. I know what it means to be scared, to see shit you aren’t supposed to ever see. I understand your need to want to protect yourself, and I am willing to help you, but you have to do this shit my way.”

Y/N looked up at him, and studied the lines on his face. She gently reached up, and ran her thumb over the scars, “How did you get here?” She asked him. Rooster smiled softly at her, and grabbed her wrist, placing a kiss on her palm. 

“That’s a story for another day.” Rooster answered, “Now come on, let’s do some more drills.” 

Rooster and Y/N spent most of the morning going over different drills. He showed her different ways to maneuver a knife as a self defense tool. He watched her as she beat up on a punching bag until her knuckles were split and starting to bleed through the white tape around them. They grappled a couple more times, Rooster teaching her how to place someone in a choke hold and break their wrists. 

Jake leaned up against the doorway, watching them shuffle around the ring in a sparring match. His eyes narrowed in on her, seeing her tiny body matchup against Roster’s large one. He was impressed when she tackled Rooster to the ground, but he also knew that he let her. She held him in a choke hold until he tapped out. She stood up with a bright smile on her face, her body covered in a layer of sweat as Rooster stood up from the mat. Jake clapped his hands slowly, drawing attention to himself as he walked over to the ring. 

“Guess we have a new fighter we can enter in at the club,” Jake smirked, leaning on the ropes of the ring. 

“Tough enough to take you on,” Y/N joked and Jake raised his eyebrows. 

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?” Jake asked. 

“It is.” She smirked, “Rooster, clear out. I don’t want you to see your fearless leader get his ass kicked.” 

“You got it boss,” Rooster smiled, grabbing a towel and water bottle before clearing out of the ring to go shower. 

Jake slid through the ropes of the ring, and onto the mat. He stripped off the t-shirt he was wearing, leaving him in just his sweatpants. He looked at her, and held his fists up, signaling the start of the fight. Y/N brought her taped up knuckles to her face, as she shuffled around the ring with him. He threw the first punch, which was easily dodged, and she returned it with a kick to his side. 

Jake stumbled a bit, but caught his footing and lunged forward grabbing her body. Jake had her pinned, but Y/N managed to get her legs around his waist, and use enough force to flip him over. Jake grunted as he landed on his belly, and her arms wrapped around his neck, and her legs wrapped under his arms, pulling them back at an awkward angle. Jake struggled to get out but eventually had to tap out, feeling the blood rush from his head.

“I fucking told you!” Y/N smiled, jumping up from the ground. Jake coughed a couple times letting the air return to his lungs. 

“Yeah, yeah, I let you win.” 

“Okay, whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

Jake looked up at her, as she smiled down at him. He reached his hand out, wrapping it around her ankle and pulled her down to the ground. She landed down next to him with a thud and a laugh. Y/N fell into a fit of giggles and Jake couldn’t help but laugh too. 

“Never underestimate your opponent,” Jake said, “But since you technically did win, how about I take you out to celebrate.” 

“Like to the club?” 

“No. . . like on a date.” 

“Oh. . .” 

Something over the past three weeks had shifted between the two of them. Jake was treating this less like a business arrangement and more like a relationship. He had started seeing her as his equal; a fearless Mafia leader. But he was also too scared to let himself really succumb to what his heart wanted. He had dreams at night, dreams of a life he wanted to live. The white picket fences, the kids riding their bikes down the sidewalks, the dogs running in the backyard. For the longest time his dreams had been flooded with angst and turmoil, now they were warm and bright, all with the same picture. 

“I’d like that,” Y/N said with a smile. Jake returned the grin. He jumped up from the ground and reached his hand out to pull her up to. 

“Perfect,” He said, holding her body close to him, “Go shower. We got some wedding stuff to do.” 

Y/N nodded and placed a peck on Jake’s check. She started walking to the stairs when she paused, realization setting in, “Holy fuck…” She mumbled, “We get married in a fucking week.” 

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — — 

Y/N was thankful that she had hired a small team to help her plan the wedding. It took some of the stress off of her. She had done this once before, planning a wedding, and could remember the breakdowns she had along the way. But, it was quite the opposite now, she was actually excited to be getting married. 

Her day was spent finalizing the guest book, the band, the seat arrangements and the decor for the backyard. Jake was the one who wanted to get married in the backyard. The white rose bushes they had everywhere were just starting to bloom, and would be fully opened by next week. Jake had hired the best groundskeepers to make sure the grass and everything was absolutely perfect. 

“And who will be walking you down the aisle?” One of the wedding planners asked. Y/N looked up from the copy of the dinner menu in her hands. She was yet to think of that. In her mind, it was always Reuben who would give her away. He was the only man she trusted to not let her fall. 

“I-I don’t know,” Y/N said, placing the card down. 

“Your father?” 

“Oh God no,” Y/N scoffed. Her heart hurt trying to imagine any other man by her side. She couldn’t even picture Gianni, who she was the closest too out of her three brothers. Y/N shook her head and sat up straighter in her chair, “No one. I’ll go solo.” 

“Are you sure, Miss?” 

She wasn’t but she nodded her head anyway. The wedding planner nodded, writing down that small detail. Y/N looked out the window into the backyard, where Jake, Bob and another wedding planner were. They were going over chair placement and where to place the tiles for the aisle. Y/N stood up from her chair and walked over to the window. She watched as Jake talked animatedly about something and could see Javy interject something making his friend roll his eyes. 

“I want open chairs. Near the front, on my side,” Y/N said. She turned around to face the wedding planner, “Three of them; for my mom, Reuben and Sophie.” 

After the meetings about the wedding, Y/N stayed in the office finishing up paperwork for the clubs. The clubs had finally started to increase in profit, mainly due to the renovations that had been made. Her next plan had been to propose the renovation of a building down the street from the club and turn it into a speak-easy. Y/N missed going to the one she opened back in Italy. She saw it as the perfect place for Jake to do business deals. It would also keep the various gang leaders and mobsters away from her front door. 

“What are you working on?“ Bob asked, popping his head into the doorway. 

“Club ideas,” Y/N said pushing back in her chair, “You guys sort out the stuff outside?” 

“Yep,” Bob said walking into the office, “Surprisingly this isn’t the wedding of the century so it’s a little easier to plan. But we got it all set up, don’t worry bridezilla.” 

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Y/N scoffed and Bob chuckled. He sat down in a chair in front of her desk and kicked his feet up. 

“Do you love him?” 

“What?” 

“Simple question,” Bob shrugged. 

“I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.” Y/N said, crossing her arms across her chest, “Why do you ask?”

“Just wanted to see what you were thinking,” Bob put his feet down and stood up from his chair, “Have fun on your little date.” 

Y/N watched as he left the office, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She hadn’t really thought about what she felt. Everything had happened so fast between them, rationally four weeks wasn’t a lot of time for someone to fall in love. But, their situation was different. She had seen all sides of Jake; the ugly and the beautiful. Everytime she closed her eyes at night, she could see Jake. 

She wasn’t sure if she could say it though. She didn’t know if she could let those words leave her lips yet. The last time she had said those words was to a man that she thought would protect her. She was scared, those three silly words held a lot of weight. They meant much more to people in their line of work. Sometimes, those are the last words someone will ever hear. 

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — — 

Jake was pacing the floor waiting for Y/N to come down the stairs. He had made them dinner reservations at a French restaurant down on Broadway. He checked his watch, and ran his hand through his hair. He was getting anxious, and he didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he couldn’t walk upstairs to her room and drag her to dinner with him. But he’s trying to treat this like a normal date, like how normal people do. 

“If she doesn’t come down those fucking-” Jake’s words got cut off as he looked up to see Y/N, standing at the top of the stairs. The dress she had on was white short silk. Her shoes were red, which showed off her tan legs. She was like an angel and a devil at the same time. He walked over to the stairs, extending his arm for her to take, “M’Lady.” 

“Such a gentleman,” Y/N smiled and kissed his cheek. 

Jake led them out to the waiting blacked out beamer. He climbed in the car behind her, sitting across from her. She reached over to the chilled bottle of Champagne and popped open the top. Smirking as he grabbed two glasses, Jake held them up for her to pour. Jake looked her up and down, noticing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She set the bottle down and grabbed the champagne flute from his hand. 

“To love, to honor, can’t come in her, come on her,” Jake smirked raising his glass to clink with hers. 

She rolled her eyes and took a sip. Y/N eyed him, taking in the navy blue suit he was wearing. He decided to forgo the jacket, wearing just a black long sleeve button up, a navy vest and trousers. She smirked at seeing his wandering eyes look her up and down. She decided to test the waters by uncrossing her legs, shyly flashing him. Jake choked on his drink and she giggled. He carefully moved from across the car to sitting right next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close. 

“Did you forget something?” Jake whispered, taking his hand and brushing it against her breast. She sucked in a breath and looked up at him. 

“Don’t think so,” Y/N responded. 

“Hmm, if you say so, then I guess you didn’t,” Jake smirked, “You look breathtaking.” 

“I know,” She smiled. 

“Cocky.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” 

Jake laughed and kissed her hairline. He loved the feeling of having her in his arms. He didn’t know he had been touch starved for so long. He usually shied away from human touch and interaction, but the second she held him in his arms, that’s all he could ever think about wanting. The stress of long days of meetings and arguments could all be fixed by a simple touch from her. 

When the car came to a stop outside of the restaurant, Jake got out first. He carefully watched her get out of the car, making sure not to flash anyone who might be walking by.  He nodded at the hostess, not bothering to stop as he walked through the restaurant and to the back. He had a secluded section in the restaurant. Jake scanned the area, everyone who sat there was dressed in suits or fancy dresses. The jewelry on their bodies stood out against the dim lighting, as Jake greeted some of them. Some of the faces Y/N knew from looking at a map of gangsters and leaders in Jake’s office. Jake took her to his table, pulling her chair out for her. 

“Mr. Seresin, what can I offer you to drink?” A young waiter asked. 

“Do we still have that Santiago Wine?” Jake asked, sitting down across from Y/N. 

“We have the 1983 or the 1996.” The waiter said. 

Y/N shook her head, “Those are terrible. Find a 1951, red sour, it’s a Merlot,” 

“Yes Miss. . .” 

“Seresin. It’s Mrs. Seresin,” Y/N said and the waiter’s eyes widened as he scurried away from the table. Jake’s smile was bright, it sent shockwaves through him to hear her refer to herself like that, “What do you recommend?” Y/N asked and looked up at him. 

“Well, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake smirked, “Asserting dominance on the young waiters?” 

“Someone has to,” Y/N smirked. 

The waiter returned with the bottle of wine that Y/N had suggested, and Jake had agreed it was better than what they already had opened. The French restaurant was nice and quiet, and pretty much everyone stayed away from them. Occasionally Jake would get a look from one of the other mafia leaders seated across the dining room. The word of their marriage had spread in the past week with the delivery of their wedding invitation. People had already started to speculate that Jake had been taken off the market, but never by Y/N Santiago. Most thought that her father had sent her to a nunnery after the whole Francisco mess. 

“You got eyes on you,” Jake said softly. Y/N glanced over her shoulder at the brooding man looking at you, “You know him?” 

“No, but I bet father dearest does,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “Sometimes I wonder if famous kids have this bad of an issue with people.” 

“You mean to tell me having big scary, murderous looking men staring at you isn’t normal?” Jake joked. 

“Funny,” Y/N responded, “I haven’t been out like this in years. At the club back in New York, I always hid my face, which gave me some anonymity. After. . . everything, I didn’t want to show my face, I was too ashamed, too scared. My father tried to keep me under lock and key but I couldn’t stand it.” 

“He kept you trapped?” 

“Like an animal. And sometimes I felt like it.” 

Jake looked at her with sympathy. Getting her to open up had been like pulling teeth. They both had things that had been locked away, and with good reason. The things those two had done and seen was enough to send someone jumping over the edge. Jake wanted to know, he wanted to know what made her tick, what made her spin, what made her scream in fear at night. 

“What was it like?” Jake asked.

“What was what like?” Y/N asked, sipping her wine. 

“Francisco.” 

Y/N choked on her wine at the name and how easily it fell from his lips. She looked around to see who was listening. She had been paranoid ever since Isabella was dropped on their doorstep for who could be listening. She set her glass down and leaned in. 

“It’s a story for another day,” She simply said and Jake nodded. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — — 

Y/N and Jake tried to suppress their drunk giggles as they stumbled into the house late. The bottles of wine they had drank at the restaurant were starting to hit, making them feel warm and fuzzy. Jake was better off, keeping her upright as best as possible. She walked into the kitchen and kicked off her heels, before reaching for the zipper on her dress. 

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Jake said, stepping in as his fiance was once again stripping down in the middle of the living room, “You gotta stop getting naked in the living room.” 

“Want to go swim?” She asked innocently. 

Jake shook his head, “Hot Tub.” 

“We have a hot tub? Since when?” 

“You’ve been here four weeks and didn’t know we have a hot tub?” 

“Nope.” Y/N said and then continued to strip out of her clothes. Jake rolled his eyes, but also followed suit, stripping down. He stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of white wine this time, and then led her out to the hot tub. Jake watched as she got in first, submerging her naked frame into the hot water. He followed in suit, setting the bottle and the glasses down. 

They both sat in a comfortable silence as soft music played in the background. Y/N looked up at the stars, trying to point out the constellations. Jake leaned against the side, looking out into the garden, checking on the rose bushes. 

“Tell me about Natasha,” Y/N spoke. Jake snapped his head towards her, he didn’t even know that she knew her name, “The night after the fight. .  . you got shift faced, and kept calling me her name.” 

Jake sucked in a breath, “It’s an old ghost.” 

“She clearly means something to you. I have told you about my ghosts, it’s only fair you tell me about yours.” 

“I don’t know all your ghosts,” Jake said. Which wasn’t entirely true, he knew of her relationship with Francisco from the information gathered by his brothers, but he had never heard her speak about it. Y/N looked down at her hands, and nodded softly, “I’ll tell you about Natasha, but I want to hear your story of Francisco.” 

“It’s only fair,” Y/N said. Jake gave her a sad smile. 

“I met Natasha at a Navy bar, and not to sound sappy but, it was love at first sight. We hit it off great, she was everything I was looking for. She was smart, beautiful, talented, and strong. I should’ve known from the jump that it was too good to be true. I was just so blind to the “love” I thought I had for her,” Jake said and took another drink, 

“At the time I thought my whole career was going to be in the Navy, I never thought I would take over for my dad. I didn’t think he trusted me like that. But then the assassination attempt happened and he pulled me in. Natasha. . .was one of the only outsiders that I trusted to know about this life. I gave her an option, to run and not look back, or to stay and be prepared for her whole life to change. And she chose to stay. At first, it was easy, she didn’t ask too many questions, kept to herself, let me do my own thing. But then, she started asking more and more. I thought it was just out of curiosity. . .” Jake shook his head, his jaw clenching, “She tricked me into trusting her, into loving her, I thought I would get married to her, so eventually, like an idiot, I told her everything. I told her about the crime families, about what my family does, how we fit into the whole Mafia Outlaw world.” 

“Jake. . . “ Y/N said softly, her mind already jumping to the conclusion. 

“It was actually your father who said something about a rat in one of the families. I didn’t believe it, and refused to. Natasha was so perfect, she would never do anything to hurt me. But I had to find out, I couldn’t just warn her to run away, I had to know. So, I chained her up in the chamber, tortured her until she broke. She was a fucking rat.” 

Jake had tears running down his face. Y/N was yet to see him this vulnerable, baring his true soul to her. Jake put up a tough front, he had to. He is the face of the Seresin Family Mafia. He was taught at a young age that feelings weren’t allowed. You couldn’t be a soft Mafia leader, you had to be one ready to kill with no remorse, even if it meant killing the people you love. Jake wiped his eyes and let out a shaky breath. 

“My father demanded that I do it, to teach me a lesson. You don’t fall in love in this life. You marry with the intention of growing the business, that’s all these sham marriages are. . . business deals. I had killed before, I knew I could do it. . . but I loved her too damn much and she betrayed me, in more ways than one. I held the gun to her head, looked in her tear filled eyes, and couldn’t do it. I know she hurt me and my family but I couldn’t pull the trigger.” 

“So who did?” 

“Someone who never should have,” Jake said softly, bowing his head in shame, “I turned it all off after that. I didn’t allow myself to heal, to forgive and move on. I buried all my anger and emotion into running the family and women. I tore through women like I was getting paid for it. But all this shit changed when you showed up. God I wanted to hate you, I wanted to never ever let you near. But. . . you changed something in me. I don’t know what you did, but you healed me.” 

“Jake,” Y/N said softly, putting a hand softly on his cheek. He grabbed her hand, holding it there as he nestled into the touch, “You healed yourself. I didn’t do anything.” 

“You must’ve been the catalyst then, cause it’s been almost three years.” 

“It takes time to heal,” Y/N said, “I didn’t heal overnight from Francisco. I’m still healing from him.” 

Jake grabbed her body and pulled her into his lap, so she was straddling him. He placed both hands on her face and looked into her eyes, “I would rather die, than let the son of a bitch hurt you.” Y/N nodded and placed her hands on his shoulders. 

Jake pulled her in, kissing her lips. Her hands flew to his hair, getting tangled in the damp strands as their lips clashed together. She could taste the sweet wine on his tongue as his arms pulled her even closer to him. Y/N moaned softly as Jake trailed, kissing down her jaw to her neck, sucking and biting softly. She moved her hips against his, feeling him grow hard under the water. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Jake mumbled against her skin, bringing his lips back to hers, “And so mine.” 

“Jake, I-I,” Y/N pulled away a little bit to look at him, “I love you.”  

Jake gasped softly. For once in her life, she was sure about something. She was sure that in this moment she felt completely safe in Jake’s arms. She felt that no matter what happened in the world, she would always have Jake. It was at this moment she finally allowed herself to feel what she had been afraid of. It took years to move past what Francisco had done, to let herself trust others. Jake wiped a tear that fell from her eye and kissed her softly. 

“I love you,” Jake said back. Y/N smiled and kissed him again. The kiss was soft, full of love and passion. Those three words had changed something for both of them. The last time either of them had said those three words, it ended in heartbreak and agony. Jake had seen the love of his life die, and Y/N hoped hers would kill her. But in this moment, they knew they would die for each other. 

They were oblivious to the outside world, living in the moment of being in love and holding onto each other. Neither noticed the three other boys frantically running out to them until Bob spoke up. 

“Y/N,” Bob said. Y/N tried to turn but Jake kept her still, keeping her back to the boys. He raised his eyebrows, glancing down at her naked form and she nodded,

“What?” Jake asked them. Y/N looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed. 

“We found Sophie,” Rooster said, “She’s alive.”

note: there's only three chapters left!

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TAG LIST IS FULL, DO NOT ASKED TO BE TAGGED

[shiorimakibawrites]

Shiori's Fan Fic Masterlist

This is my general masterlist for my fan fiction, gathered here to make it easier to find what you are looking for.

In addition to current WIP, previews for upcoming stories will also be posted.

Anything marked as smut is not appropriate for minors. Image description is supposed to be the ALT but please let me know if it isn't working.

Likewise, please alert me to any broken links or if you would like to be added to any of character or series taglists.

My work is also posted on A03.

My fan fiction recommendations can be found here.

Last Updated: 7/16/2024

Matt Murdock/Daredevil Masterlist

Frank Castle x Fem! Reader Series

Image Credit:kissmegoodbye.net / Jakub Kapusnak (Unsplash) / Kevin Turcios (Unsplash)

A Vigilante and a Gentlemen {Installment List}

You are an office manager and aspiring novelist. One day when you are walking to work, you past a construction site where the men began to catcall. With the exception of one who stops the others in their tracks. You find yourself intrigued by this rather mysterious man who calls himself Pete Castiglione. It helps that he keeps taking off his shirt in the summer heat. {18+}

Tags: Strangers-to-Lovers Romance, Drama Warnings: Canon-typical violence, eventual explicit sexual content, sexual harassment, anxiety disorder, panic attacks, referenced character death, referenced murder of children, PTSD

Port in a Storm {UPCOMING}

One night during a nasty storm, a mysterious stranger comes to your door looking for help. His arrival at your home coincides with the beginning of a deadly conspiracy, a danger from your past that threatens not only your life but the lives of your children. Is this handsome stranger your enemy or your salvation? {18+}

Part One: A Dark and Stormy Night {coming soon}

Tags: Slow Burn Romance, Strangers-to-Lovers, Murder Mystery, Original Child Characters Warnings: Canon-typical violence, eventual explicit sexual content, temporary characters deaths, permanent character deaths, murder, referenced suicide, worries about suicide, threats to children

One Shots

One of Those Days: You have a bad day but Frank makes it all better. (fluff, hurt/comfort)

You Are To Me: You take a bullet for Frank (hurt/comfort)

Michael Kinsella x Fem! Reader Series

Image Credit: kissmegoodbye.net / Qui Ngyuen (Unsplash) / Mayur Gala (Unsplash)

Rhapsody {UPCOMING}

You have always had a weakness for bad boys. Which why you were surprised to find yourself charmed by a man named Michael Kinsella, who is as sweet as he is handsome. But there is more to Michael than meets the eye. {18+}

Part One: Blank Space {coming soon}

Tags: Strangers-to-Lovers, Small Town Life, Drama, Mystery Warnings: Canon-typical violence, explicit sexual content, organized crime, referenced character death, epilepsy, seizures, referenced drug use, referenced drug trafficking

A Brand New Ending {UPCOMING}

On a visit to Dublin, you run into your ex-boyfriend Michael Kinsella in a pub. You get to talking to each other. You kiss him. And the next morning, you wake up in his bed, naked and pleasantly sore. You would have loved to stay but a family emergency calls you away. A couple months later, you discover that you are pregnant. You always wanted to be a mother but to your disappointment, it seems like Michael isn’t so eager to become a father again . . . {18+}

Part One: Your Old Flame {coming soon}

Tags: Second Chances, High School Sweethearts, Family Drama, Mystery, Small Town Life Warnings: Canon-typical violence, explicit sexual content, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, fears of miscarriage, flashbacks to traumatic events (sexual assault, miscarriage, stillbirth, teen pregnancy, domestic violence), referenced drug use, drug trafficking, organized crime, murder, seizures, epilepsy, referenced character deaths

One Shots

Warm: Michael keeps you warm. In more ways than one. Written for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge (smut)

Mo Ghrá: You're on your period and you miss Mikey (hurt/comfort, fluff)

Sharing an Umbrella: You and Mikey are sharing a walk with your dogs. Written for 300 Follower Celebration (super fluffy).

Peter Parker x Fem! Reader Series

Legacy {UPCOMING}

Your father Matt Murdock disappeared along with half the universe. He never wanted you fighting but you cannot stand by while all of his hard work is destroyed. Hell’s Kitchen needs its Devil. As you patrol the nighttime streets, you meet another young hero who is struggling to uphold the legacy of his own mentors. {16+}

Part One: In the Beginning {coming soon}

Tags: Slow Burn, Strangers-to-Friends, Friends-to-Lovers, Superhero Adventures, Secret Identity Hijinks Warnings: Canon-typical violence, temporary character deaths, permanent character deaths, grief, mourning, bullying, ableism, eventual making out

Adrift {UPCOMING}

Things have been hard since you came back to life. You were gone for five years. And in that time, everything changed. All of your old friends moved on. Your parents had another kid. School is full of strangers. Even over a year later, your life still doesn’t feel like yours anymore. Then you meet two other lonely souls struggling with the same feelings that you are – your coworker Peter Parker and the vigilante Spider-Man. {16+}

Part One: Alone in the Crowd {coming soon}

Tags: Slow-Burn, Strangers-to-Friends, Friends-to-Lovers, Secret Identity Hijinks, High School Drama Warnings: Canon-typical violence, referenced temporary character deaths, referenced permanent character deaths, alienation, depression, guilty, self-doubt, suicidal thoughts, worries about self-harm, suicide concerns, eventual making out

OTHER

Daredevil

Conservations with the Damned - Foggy Nelson stands in front of Matt’s grave. And has the talk he should have had . . . before (Angst, hurt no comfort, tw for perceived character death and mentions of suicide)

Events

Flightless Angel Wing's Kinkotober 2023 - Personal Masterlist

Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge 2024 - Masterlist

Other Collections

Headcanon Collection

Castlevania (2017 - 2021)

Silence of the Mind (angst, hurt no comfort): All Trevor Belmont wanted was the silence of the mind.

[twig-tea]

Shadow the series: hopefully an enabling post

I want as many people as are interested to be able to watch this series so as promised: Here's a non-spoilery summary of potential triggers and squicks in Shadow the Series eps 1-7.

The really brief version: this show is really good, lots of intense things happening with family trauma, family violence, mental health, and abuse, but the actual supernatural stuff is pretty mild and the gore and violence is very minimal. There are also light comedy moments, and pining, and friendship, and the mystery is fun to watch unravel, so I didn't find it too spooky (but I have a high spooky tolerance so you may want to take breaks or otherwise do what you need to).

Ep1

Vomiting

Some creepy music

Slight jump scares

Depictions of drowning

Homophobic slurs

Bullying (including punches)

Scars (potentially self-harm but it's not clear)

Mention of ghosts, non-graphic ghost, creepy amorphous smoke

Ep2

References to hypnosis, potential gaslighting or hallucinations, uncertainty of reality

Institutional homophobia

Bullying (non-graphic)

Homophobia

Mention of possible teacher/student relationship (potentially unrequited)

Ep3

Bullying, homophobia

Mention of dead bodies

Mention of ghosts

Mention of family violence

Depictions of drowning

Flickering lights

Mild corporal punishment

Non-graphic ghost

Mentions of cancer

Creepy grinning (lmao idk how else to list this)

Ep4

Mentions of cancer and treatment including deteriorating physical state

Depictions of deteriorating mental state

Depiction of end-of-life medical care in hospital

Depictions of family violence (yelling, grabbing, threats, slapping, kicking, beating, threats with a gun) of both a mother and child

Hospitalization for mental illness, psychosis

Mention of antidepressants

Threatening someone's freedom with hospitalization

Accusations of infidelity

Depiction of suicide by hanging (not the actual death, just the body in partial shot)

Description of what sounds like childhood sexual assault from the perspective of a child (non-graphic, vague)

Depictions of alcoholism

Child neglect (feeding a child food they are allergic to)

Allergic reaction in a child

Beating (not too graphic but there is blood on knuckles and blood on face shown)

Funeral, death of a parent (mother and father)

Floating body

Ep 5

Floating body

Systemic inertia (probably not triggering but seriously infuriating)

Mentions of narcotic use

Mentions of bipolar disorder

Creepy mask

Casual mentions of father's death

Implied one-sided teacher/student crush (student hugging teacher from behind)

Non-graphic ghost

Homophobia, bullying

Teacher/student relationship (kissing, implied sexual relationship between older woman and younger male)

Negative self-talk around mental illness and medicating mental illness

Descriptions of hallucinations

Ep6

Smoking (supposed to be marijuana but looks like manufactured cigarettes)

Wet dream resulting from an erotic-coded moment with amorphous smoke (idk how to properly warn for this lol)

Scratches on body (ambiguous source)

Mentions of pregnancy

Implied infidelity (by a married couple)

Slap

Bite, punches

Non-graphic ghost, mild jump scare

Creepy "fun house" with decorations including a lot of bloody handprints/blood-sprayed walls, creepy clown, distorting mirrors, screaming, flashing light, red lighting

Ep7

Creepy "fun house" with decorations including a lot of bloody handprints/blood-sprayed walls, creepy clown, distorting mirrors, screaming, flashing light, red lighting

Multiple people punched in the head, bruised faces from being punched in the mouth (mostly student-on-student but one parent punching their child)

Mild jump-scare with a loud sound

Vision of multiple bodies on the ground, with pools of blood (brief, no visible wounds, gore is mild)

Clothed heavy makeout between married female teacher and male student

Flash of someone blindfolded and someone with a gun

Implied sexual dream with amorphous smoke

Mention of loss of a limb, dripping of blood (no wound visible)

Mentions of drug use (spoon over a flame shown, implying heroin)

Depictions of someone dying by firing squad as a death sentence (death not shown)

Non-graphic ghost

Someone being choked

The preview for the second half has a bunch more stuff, but nothing that hasn't been warned for in the first half (choking, punching, hanging, creepy mask, amorphous smoke, etc.)

[visardistofelphame]

A trigger warning for the content below. Suicide and abuse are lightly touched upon, so please keep that in mind when reading.

Here is the old article (if you need context)

┌────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────┐

“Witchcraft is an old hag, dead and rotting. She sits on a pile of bones, and hides behind the graves of her elders. It is here where she lurks waiting for the right moment. Witchcraft hungers for youth, it hungers for you.”

It is said that the Craft has continued to survive, despite being ‘destroyed’ time and time again. No matter how many times it has been uprooted, it is a weed that will regrow. So why the visceral description? What is it about Witchcraft that invokes such violence and wrath within the imagination? Why link it to death? To cannibalism? To these things that are faux pas in our modern world?

Within the British traditions (as well as others I am certain), there was a push to change the viewpoint of what the Craft was to the general populace. The hope being to reveal it not as some boogeyman cult, but as a private faith as genuine and fulfilling as any other. The idea of acceptance and freedom was forefront, and it can be understandable why. Who doesn’t want those things? 

As a queer woman, I certainly crave acceptance and freedom. I imagine it's what we all want: to live as we will, unafraid of the threat of shame or assault. But what happens when societal mechanisms press down upon you? No one is specifically stopping you from living your life, free and happy. Yet, can anyone truly achieve those if we cannot even afford shelter and food? I can only speak from my understanding of the world, living within the USA. What was once the American Dream has transformed into a nightmare. The paralysis demon that is Despair and Dread, a future with no hope.

I sometimes wonder if my passion for the occult and (more specifically) witchcraft is an act of escapism? It's easy to understand why one would turn to the past for relief from the thought of what the future will bring. A bit of “Yeah, obviously” sort of thing. The idea of nostalgia isn’t new, whether it’s a longing for your childhood or for a history you were never a part of. I feel like it is a perfectly natural thing to experience. I know for me, it is less nostalgia for my childhood and more towards general history. 

I flocked to fairy tales, folktales, old Irish ballads, ghost stories, and was thrilled to learn history. I’ve always been fascinated by how people lived their lives, how the world once was. It seems natural that I would get caught up in the obscured parts of it, into the secret histories of the Occult. Though there was also a hidden side to my interests, an obsession with death. This is what led me to find Witchcraft. I know that not all are drawn to the Craft have experienced trauma in their life, but many I know have. I certainly have. Perhaps it is an aspect of the Craft being counter-culture, being quite attractive to those that are othered.

So what is my point? All I’ve described and talked about isn't revolutionary. These topics have all been discussed by far better writers than I. Yet, we each individually come to our own revelations and realizations about these things in our own time. It is the nature of the mystery, to be experienced. And for me, all this has brought me to the understanding that we aren’t any different from the peoples of the past. The struggles I’ve described have been universal, social society evolving alongside mankind. These feelings of a hopeless future, dread and despair? The only thing that’s different is the specific nuances: technology, our understanding of how the physical world operates, etc etc.

When writing the original piece, it was fueled by my feelings of anger and frustration, fueled by a spiteful hope - The acknowledgement that I will die, traditions die, movements die. Yet, death is part of a greater cycle and that such primal and universally human desires will never be gone for long. They can only be suppressed for so long, before boiling over. 

So I ask myself again, why did I write with such bloody description? I find the modern world to be oppressive when it comes to allowing the presence of healthy feminine rage. I was taught to be quiet and calm, only pleasing to others. The abuse and pain I had experienced was mere inconvenient to everyone else. It is a culmination of the many times that I had tried to end my own life, only to somehow still be alive and learn how to keep on living. A feeling of kinship to peoples long dead. 

Yet with all that said, who I am now is very different from who I was then. It's true of everyone and everything, we’re moments in time: always changing and always becoming. True of people and everything we have and will ever create. The revelation of my own understanding, both as a spiritual and physical creature. The even greater revelation that this is true for every person. 

“The very moment you step within the Sabbat these secrets are made possible. The witches are waiting there ready to teach and pass their secrets; however, are you ready to be dined upon by their wicked cannibalism? For when you are torn apart and thrown into the cauldron, the witch blood truly takes hold.”

I bring my entirety, whether I want to or not. The good and the bad, the love and hatred. No one is exempt from this. Things are not cookie cut perfectly as desired, everything is thrown in both good and bad. To a practice of those who have been othered, one cannot live in the fantasy that being othered prevents them from those same acts. We are all susceptible to misinformation, propaganda, bigotry and hate. The witches have a wicked cannibalism, they dine upon all of me. They dine upon all of those that seek this. And as I said before, “You are what you eat”

So to this diabolical nature, the untamed current of Witchcraft. No one group can ever hope to have ownership, despite some who have tried. No one controls when the witch cult rises and falls, it simply is and will continue to be. 

Please keep in mind that all this said, I do wish to note that all this is more towards the nature of Witchcraft as I understand it and have experienced it. The untamed nature is its own beast, so do not confuse it with the depths that is the well of magic. Even so, I know that the greatest mystery for any who explores these hidden paths: to know yourself.

Hope you all enjoyed going over an older article I had written back in 2018. My current practice has been heavily influenced from my dive into philosophy, so it's good to be able to write a think-piece like this. Nothing like a healthy dose of self analyzing to help get the creative juices flowing, though I hope that I'm not the only one~

[gojoest]

OMFGGG I MISSED YOU SM ☹️🤍 I didn’t know what happened and didn’t ask bc I didn’t think it would be a good idea to put that pressure on you. I just read some of your replies to other people and I’m glad you’re doing okay now. People on this stupid site are so insane when it comes to dc supporters/ enjoyers. I remember when I first made a pinned post and put a warning about creating and enhancement with dc - the next day I woke up to hundreds of the most disgusting paragraphs like—even a dc writer wouldn’t have thought of such nasty ideas that the haters were fully typing out 😭 a specific one that I will never forget bc it caught me so off guard was “how attractive is the cocomelon baby to you” and this one wasn’t even bad compared to the many others I got 🫡 They eventually get bored when you block them and never snap back. I hope you feel better and don’t let them be the reason for a bad day - they are bored and have nothing better to do than harass and bully because they think they’re better than others.

LU I MISSED YOU TOO 🥹🤍 thank you for being considerate and for reaching out, i appreciate it sm !! i hope all’s been well with you beloved 🤍

tw: threats, suicide, sexual assault, pedophilia mention, doxxing below the cut, so pls take care of yourself if you proceed

you figured what sorts of stuff i was getting… 🫠 i am being told to kms, to get raped by a family member, threatened to get doxxed, being called a pedophile (WTH 😭) etc etc and all are insane INSANE things to say to someone all bc they support DC. this person keeps changing their IP to send me those stuff so blocking rly isn’t doing much. turning anons off isn’t doing much either bc the min i did i got a blank blog in my asks threatening to get their hands on my personal info and leak it. like legit this sick individual is waiting around the corner for me lmfao, maybe one day they’ll get bored of it who knows

sorry for bringing all this up, i didn’t want to talk about it at all but i also wanted to show how ugly and disturbing this place can get + i am at my limit rn nsjejs

i hope everyone takes care of themselves, and i hope you all stay safe and never ever experience such harassment or any of the things mentioned above

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 6

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

Heavy on the warning for guns

**************************

Waking up with Joel meant morning sex, and now that he was recovered from food poisoning after a whole day of no sex, he was rock hard by the time you were up, rocking his hips in the curve of your ass. Not long later, he was fucking you on your sides, arms wrapped tightly around. You avoided his kiss; his breath smelled gross due to the puking, and he was courteous enough to keep his face buried in your hair. You were starting to find you really liked when he took you from behind, it hit something delicious inside you, bringing you close with every pump; how did he have this much energy so early?

“Uh, uh, uh” The sounds come out your mouth in rhythm to his thrusts, warmth covering your body, the pleasure building as you clung to Joel’s strong arm wrapped your middle, holding on for dear life. “Joel, Joel I’m close, please touch me? Gonna cum again”

“You wanna cum again, little one?” He panted, hot breath in your neck, arms moving up to grope your breasts. “Not every day I get two out of yuh”

“Yes sir, please” You whimper for him, even as his hand crept further up your body, away from where you need him, but you trusted Joel. “Wanna cum again, wanna cum with you.”

Suddenly, his large gruff hand clamped around your throat your breathing laboured and raspy as you lurch, and his face was right next to your, beard scratching your skin. “You gonna tell me why your fuck’n brother was here last night?”

All the blood in your body drained out of your body, a million questions in your head as you wrapped your hands around his large one trying to pull him off of you. How did he know? How much did he hear? Did your refusal to go with Zach seal not only your fate, but Zach’s Lorenzo’s, fuck… would Tommy be punished for this? “Joel, please.”

His hand tightened. “Answer me” He was inside you still, the reminisce of your ruined orgasm leaving you shaking

“H-he wanted to rescue me” you rasp out, wriggling against his body with your hand on him, trying to get out. 

“Then why the fuck are you still here?” His breath smelled like puke and morning breath, overpowering the smell of sex and adding to your heightened terror. Would Joel actually kill you for not going? 

“I din wa’a,” You cough, your throat hurting as your breathing is restricted. “Joel, ca- breath.” dark spots came around your eyes

He lessened his grip and you gasp, deep sputtering breathes filling your lungs again. “How the fuck did he get in? Where was Lorenzo?” You decide to let Lorenzo live, he knew too much about your brother, and you could still save Zach if you played your cards right. Besides, he was no Nick, you didn’t enjoy getting people hurt.

“Lorenzo was in the bathroom, I don’t know how he got in! Please,” You continued writhing as Joel was still inside you, and he began fucking you again but did not let go of your throat. “I didn’t wanna go, I wanted to stay with you.”

Joel’s speed was slow and steady, pulling all the way back and slamming in, making breathing even harder. “Do I need to kill your fucking brother?”

“No! No, Joel, please, I stayed, didn’t I? Please don’t.”

He stopped choking you, his neck around your throat suddenly so soft, his lips kissing your bruised neck and he changed positions; you on your back, Joel knelt before you as he fucked into you faster. “I won’t for now, little one, but just know if you leave, he’s the first place I’m going to and I’m making his death as slow as Nicks, understood?”

Looking up at him, still holding his hand around your neck, you nod frantically. “I won’t, I won’t Joel, I swear!” You cry; you want Tommy, but after last night you weren’t sure he’d come to your rescue anymore… and calling for him would solidify his death and yours, either way.

Sitting back and finally letting go of your throat and you get a full breath in, Joel pulls out and jacks off on you're body before collapsing back onto you, his heavy and ever-oddly comforting weight on you, despite the fact bruised your neck, you were so happy to have him with you, warm and gentle, you wrap your arms around his middle. 

Joel kisses you, and you aren’t even bothered by the smell anymore, just so happy for the affection. “Good, because if you ever try to fucking leave again I will tie you to the bed and set this fucking house on fire.”

You didn’t even have it in you to be scared, or hurt, or sad… you just swore up and down between kisses that you were his, and you never wanted to leave. When things calmed down, you were in his arms again, resting as he kissed your bruising neck.

“You play guitar?” You ask softly, looking at the 6 string all dusty resting up against his dresser.

“Use-tah. Long time ago.”

“Oh…” You couldn’t help the disappointment in your voice. “Okay”

Joel turned to you, his mouth leaving your neck. “Why?”

You kept looking away, embarrassed you got your hopes up. “Nothin”

Joel took your face in his jaw, turning you, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, little one”

“I just… I was kinda hoping to hear something… that’s all, not a big deal”

His eyes darted between yours, you could practically hear him thinking, before he let go and abruptly stood up. “Don’t work, anyway. Needs strings. Besides, I havn’t played in years.”

“It’s okay” You smile up at him. Music would be nice… Zach played a little bit of piano, your mom had taught him some. He could play Red River Valley, singing it for you sometimes until Joel’s men destroyed the piano… that a few years ago, long before you every met Joel, or Tommy. You did recognize one of the men, one who lives here now. His name was Aiden. He was an asshole like Nick, but after Nick was skinned alive, he didn’t dare look at you. 

After a bath, (which you made Joel brush his teeth beforehand) you were back in your room as he left for ‘business’, and as expected, the door opened around noon, with a nervous looking Tommy entering carrying a tray with bread and the leftover soup from last night. “Hey honey- What the fuck!?” Tommy about dropped the food as he set it down and rushed over to you, hand on your neck. “Fucking hell, what did he do? When was this?” The frantic worry in his eyes was evident as he tilted your head with a soft, gentle grip on your chin, a contrast to Joel’s harsh one earlier this morning. 

But you pulled back, and Tommy let go of you. “It’s nothing, Tommy.”

His face dropped. “Hey… hey whats wrong?” He noticed your change in demeanor.

You glare at him, but without much power behind it. “I didn’t forget last night” I whisper.

Sighing, Tommy gets up to close the door and brings you your food. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

“You’re just sorry you got caught in a lie!”

“Yeah, yeah I am.” Tommy deadpans. “I never wanted you to find out, is that you want you here? But not because I want you here. I want you far, far away from Joel, as far away as you can, but not… not now…” He speaks in earnest, you want to believe him…

“I don’t want to leave, Tommy. That’s why I didn’t go with Zach while everyone was sick, I don’t wanna go. Joel… it’s better here”

Tommy’s fast twists into concern. “What do you… what does that mean?”

“I’m safe here. I’m safe from everything going on out there… Joel protects me.”

His face was unreadable. “Honey, no, no that’s…” Shaking his head, he tries to find the right words. “Joel’s not safe either, you know that right? He branded you, he raped you, he did that-” He references your bruised neck “To you!”

“Don’t yell at-”

“Joel is the bad guy! He is the one you need protection from!”

“He’s the one that killed Nick, Tommy!” You shout at him, angered. “Not you! You let Joel brand me, you let Joel rape in front of everyone, you LET HIM!” You stand up on your shitty mattress and Tommy stands with you. He is much taller but you do not waver as you point at him. “So don’t act like you are my savior, when you just have a savior complex! The only person who can protect me from Joel is Joel!” You don’t know why you are suddenly so angry… but god, everything from the last few months… you were locked up in your little room, the anger had to go somewhere… “Those men out there” You point outside “I could walk out here naked, and none of them would touch me, not because of you, but because of Joel! He only did this to my neck because Zach came and tried to take me when he couldn’t keep me safe from dad, he branded me because I tried to run, he raped me because I put up a fight, he hurts me when I or someone else does something and as long as no one interferes, that includes you, Tommy, everything is fine!” 

Tommy let you, he let you scream and yell because in the end, you were right. He could tell you that he was the one that made sure you ate every day, that stop the others when Joel left you to be gang raped, that he was the only patching up your wounds… but you were right, Joel still did every he wanted to you, and Tommy couldn’t stop him. Tommy knew what you meant by interfer… it had become clear how touchy he was, how he held you and cared for you… and he was putting you in danger as he did that.

“Okay” He whispers, eyes closed. “I get it. Joel is the one who protects you… not me…” He opens them, and you swear you saw his eyes glistening. “Can I still be your friend?” 

He looked so young all of a sudden, despite his mustache and the lies around his eyes… You calm down from your outburst, and you feel bad… feel bad for how much you yelled at someone who had only tried to help you… but you needed to be safe with Joel. “With the door open” You couldn’t leave room for suspicion.

Things with Tommy were different, after that. You withdrew from him, no longer spending hours playing card games and talking… but he still came and kept you company, as long as you’d allow him. But as soon as Joel was home, you belonged to the older brother. I wasn’t fair to Tommy, you knew… but neither Joel nor Tommy had been through what you had, were living through what you were, and you were just trying to survive. Tommy was no longer your refuge. You slept in Joel’s bed every night, you spent more time with Joel than Tommy… and Tommy began spending more time working… He’d go away over nights more and more, sometimes a few days at a time… you couldn’t help but miss him, but this was your bed to lay in. You did have more freedom, however. Since you had an opportunity to leave and didn’t Joel trusted you more. You cooked sometimes, began cleaning a bit… it was something to do, and you began to enjoy it. Plus, the men were a lot less cold to you when you’re the one providing real home cooked food; a few thank you’d had been mumbled here and there, mostly from Jack who was the more polite of the group.

You had gone to bed in Joel's arms, fell asleep in his tight grasp, safe and warm, Tommy was out on some overnight trip when you woke up to commotion in the living area, shouts of the men, Joel screaming about something, clearly on a rager and you were going to stay in bed until Joel settled it and inevitable came back to the room wanting to use your sleeping body to blow off steam… when you heard it. Tommy yelling in pain. Instantly, you forgot about every you had been angry about, and rushed out the door in time to see Joel pistol whip Tommy in front of a crowd of the men. You vaguely register Jack telling you to stay out of it and Aziz saying ‘don’t’, but it didn’t matter; Joel was hurting Tommy.

“Joel stop!” You scream and run to Joel, but stop dead in your track as Joel turned the gun on you, and you find yourself wide-eyed and back into the wall, staring at the barrel of a gun as Tommy trying to tell Joel to stop from where he lay on the ground.

Joel wasn’t listening, his voice smooth and calm despite the shaking rage behind them. “How long you been sleep’n with my brother, little one?” 

You were frozen in place, unable to speak, but Tommy was trying to get up, still reeling from the pistol whip that had his head bleeding. “Joel, no, we never did anything, I was just keeping her company-”

He lowers the gun temporarily. “No way you put yourself between me and a man unless he’s fucked your stupid little pussy.” He tapped your cunt with the gun before bringing it back up.

"Joel, no-" You whisper, terrified

“Close your eyes” He said to you, his voice a deadly calm, before shouting. “CLOSE YOUR EYES!” 

In the background, you can hear vaguely as Tommy tries to reason with Joel, stumbling to get up; he is on one knee, his hand reaching out using his signature ‘calm down, Joel’ voice, but right now, you are looking into Joel’s eyes, so often filled with affection for you, but now dead and cold. You do as you are told, closing your eyes, your knees about to buckle in fear of Joel painting the wall with your brain matter. “I didn’t-” You try to say, but stop as Joel caresses your face with the barrel of the gun, gently shushing you.

“Here's what we’re doing sweetheart” If you weren’t away of the situation, his tone wasn’t unlike how he’d gentle coax you into whatever position he wanted you in. “When you open your eyes,you’re gonna tell me ‘No Joel, I never slept with with your goddamn pathetic stupid dumbass pussy of a brother’ in more or less words and if I don’t believe you…” He tapped your cheek twice making little gun shots sounds. “No more pretty little girl, okay?”

It takes everything in you to not cry, merely whimpering as you feel the cool metal on your cheek, and you nod. You were almost certain you couldn’t do this. You had never been a good liar, only held on this long because Joel seemed to trust you… seemed to think you were in a relationship early on when all he did was hurt you. But now, now you’d have to look him in the eyes and lie, and almost certainly you’d be dead moments later.

“Okay” You whisper, voice quite.

“Joel, c’mon, leave her out of this”

Joel didn’t look at him. “Not helping her case, Tom” He nudges you with the gun. “Times up, open your eyes.”

You take a deep, steadying breath and open them, you are ready to try and lie, to save yourself, to save Tommy… you open your mouth. “I n-”

“I made her do it” Tommy’s voice broke out from behind Joel, causing him to turn around, and your knees gave out in relief. You only stop from hitting the floor because Lorenzo catches you, setting you down, and stepping away lest he get caught up in all this.

“Bullshit” Joel said, but you could see the gears turning.

“I did! It was her first time, and, I wanted it, that’s why I wanted you to wait” Tommy wasn’t the best liar, but he was trying to deflected it away from you.

“No,” Joel shook his head. “No, she bled when I took’er, I remember her bleed’n”

“Because you RAPED HER DRY, JOEL!” Tommy’s frustration with his brother boiled over. 

“Shut up!” Joel screamed, defensive. “I did no such thing!”

Tommy’s laugh was dry, sardonic. “You’re playing house with her, but you forget you kidnapped her! She’s not your wife, she’s a victim of your rape and abuse!”

“Shut! Up!” 

“Jesus CHRIST, Joel, she’s younger than Sarah would’ve been!”

“Don’t you fucking talk about her” Joel’s deadly calm was back. “You don’t fucking do that”

Tommy wouldn’t stop. “If Sarah were alive, she’d be disgusted with you, she’d never fucking talk to you-” 

The gun blast made you scream and cover your face, you aguely here Lorenzo, Jack, and a few others shout something.... you couldn’t look, knowing you’d see Tommy dead. All the times he had tried to help you, tried to ease things, and you had gotten him killed for taking your virginity. You sat back against the wall crying… you had gotten Tommy killed, Tommy died because of you… your fault, your fault, your fault... Suddenly, you are being dragged to stand up. “Get up!” Joel bellows, his strong arms dragging you to Tommy’s dead body and all you can do is scream hysterics. “Stand! Up!”

When you finally do stand, you open your eyes only to find Tommy still alive and kneeling before you, a gunshot in the wall above him. 

Joel pulls motions for another gun from Diego, and puts it in your hands, holding it still as he pulls his own gun back on your forehead. “Liste up, little one” His voice is soft, a feather light breath against your cheek as he leans close. He aims the gun at Tommy, the barrel between his eyes. “Tommy’s been running around behind my back with that cunt in Jackson, fucking her and telling her god knows what about me and my business”

“Joel, I swear, I never told her anything!” Tommy pleads.

You blink, and you can’t feel a little… betrayed… He was sleeping with someone?

Joel noticed.

“Awwww, did Tommy make you feel special?" He mocked you. "Tommy make you feel like you were the only one he was fucking, the only one he treated all nice. Guess what, little one, you're not special t him. I get he's got loads of other whores he fucked, you're just the little kept girl when he wants some naive pussy" Joel kisses your neck "But... You are special to me, you are the only one I’m fucking, you are the only women in my life, and yet… you still fuck around with Tommy." He sounds almost... hurt... "But I’m gracious, I’ve forgiving.” He forced you too look directly at him, and his eyes… they were soft again, the softness you couldn’t help fall for. “I love you, he doesn’t. Now.” Joel straightened up and stepped back, but the gun never left your head. “I’m gonna count down from ten, and if you shoot him, you proved yourself to me, and we can go on being happy, being together.” He kisses your cheek, smelling your hair as he pulled away. “If you don’t… and I reach 0, I blow your fucking brains out, okay?”

You begin crying.

“Joel, don’t do this to her”

“10… 9…”

“I can’t! Joel I’m sorry, Joel, I love you, I can’t kill him!”

“8… 7…”

“Honey look at me” Tommy’s desperate voice calls you, and you turn to him, his beautiful brown eyes looking up at your where he is kneeling, his dark, long hair tousled. He schooled his expressions, peace on his face for your sake. “It’s okay. Do it.”

“6… 5…”

“Tommy no, I can’t hurt you.” There's gotta be another way…

“It’s okay” He nods. “I’m ready. Right through the head, it’ll be quick.”

“4… 3..”

“I can’t” You sob.

“Yes, yes you can, it’s okay. Just do it, stay alive, and Joel will keep you safe.”

Tommy, sweet, kind Tommy… He would not die at your hands, and you would not die at Joels

“No.” You drop your gun to your side and turn to Joel; you can see the confusion in his eyes. “No, you won’t do it.”

“2… yes I will”

“Honey, it’s okay, I promise you-” But you weren’t listening to Tommy.

“No, you won’t hurt me. You love me too much”

“I will, 1”

You don’t blink. You keep your eyes locked on Joels, his deep brown eyes swimming with confliction and hurt… betrayal from both you and Tommy. 

But he doesn’t shoot you. Ever so slowly, you take the gun in your hand and put it back in his. You could’ve used it to shoot him… but it would’ve been useless and probably ended with a bullet in your head for real this time. Instead, Joel looks at you with nothing short of aw as he lowers his gun. You trusted him. You refuse a rescue, you knew he wouldn’t shoot you, and you give up your weapon to him… He owned you, completely.

“You won’t kill me. And you wont kill Tommy either, because you love both of us. You are going to let Tommy go, run off to Jackson, and Tommy is never going to divulge any of your secrets.” You turn to Tommy, who has sat back on his hunches, looking at you with confusion. “Because if he does, you’ll know who betrayed him” You tell Tommy with your eyes not to fuck this up. Then, back to Joel. “And then you and I can live here happily ever after, without anyone interfering.”

Joel stirred at you for a long while, considering his options… but he knew, deep down, he couldn’t kill either of you. He was furious at Tommy for his betrayal, for fucking that bitch Maria, for lying to him, for taking your virginity when that was suppossed to be his… but Tommy was his little brother. Long before Sarah died in his arms, long before this virus, long before the empire that he built that began as just trying to keep Tommy alive… it was him and Tommy, their whole lives. He was his brother, Joel had saved his skin again and again and Tommy had Joel’s back when Joel’s wife left him, and helped raise Sarah… Sarah… Tommy’s words stuck in his head, what would Sarah think of him? He wasn’t a rapist, despite what Tommy said, he wasn’t that kind of man… but he could be softer, he could’ve been better to the girl he kept locked up… Sarah, if she was watching somewhere, could never forgive him if Joel killed her uncle she adored so much…

“Lorenzo” Joel called, and the short hair man stepped up. “Get him the fuck outta here, dump him once he’s off my fucking property. And if anyone sees him here again, or if anyone sees her-” Joel points to you “Outside without anyone, shoot them.”

Lorenzo nodded, and began pulling Tommy away. Tommy gave one desperate look back at you, and was out the door before you could blink. 

You don’t have a second to process that your best friend just left you before Joel is pulling you into the bedroom, pushing you against the wall and shoving your pants down. He thrusts into you with no preparation and you stifle a whimper on your hand, but Joel pulls it down.

“Wanna here you cry, little one. That pain? The pain is mine. Your cries are mine, your cunt is mine. And if you bleed?” Just then, his face is right next to yours, his beard wiping the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “Your blood is mine. Got it?”

“Yes sir” You moaned out the way he likes to hear. You were growing wet embarrassingly fast, his cock hitting that lovely, lovely spot you loved so much and suddenly, you had forgotten about how he had almost killed you, the slap of skin and his arm groping your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he fucked into you drawing you closer. Joel came inside you, something he had only done after Nick, it was as if he was laying his claim, possessing you as his hot cum and some of your blood trickle down your leg. Joel had a new surprise for you.

He lifted you over his shoulder and tossed you onto the bed and you watched him crawl up to you, his eyes hungry and you had no idea what was possibly coming… when Joel began to lick your cunt, you were shocked, hips bucking up but Joel was quick to pin you down; he laid down in front of you on his stomach with his arms wrapped around your legs and christ, it was like he was trying to devour you. You felt his tongue reaching up inside you, his fingers playing with your clit the way only he knew how and the sensation was so new, so unreal, you weren’t sure how to take it. 

But you did. you took every single bit he gave you as he cleaned you up of his own spent, his tongue licking and sucking and slurping you up eagerly, plush lips devouring you whole as if he could eat you alive, keeping you with him forever and becoming a part of him like an unholy communion. His tongue laved out as he brought his mouth up and over your clit, making you shutter...

And when his mouth sloppily latched onto your clit and two thick fingers were fucking into you? You came in under a minute after that. 

“Fuuuuuuuck!”  You cry out as if all of today's events never happened. “Joel!” You scream out as you cum, not caring that Lorenzo might hear you, that he probably thinks you're pathetic for getting such pleasure from the man whose gun had kissed your forehead the way his lips kissed your cheek now as you reveled in the afterglow of your orgasm. You expected Joel to threaten you about what happened with Tommy, to wrap his fingers around your throat or grip your face harshly… but he just kissed you as he pulled you close, covering the two of you up. Still, you new he was references sleeping with Tommy, when his last words before bed were-

“Please don’t do that to me again.”

You cupped his face and assured him you’d never leave, that you are his.

You are his.

*******************

bye bye tommy : (

out of curiousity, i have a lil pole

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