#when he was finally forced to pop those collars . i cried

[grinnoire]

the way that kevin chu was SINGLEHANDEDLY fighting a battle to make alex mercer dress well and look handsome and was confounded at every turn

[deepdarkdelights]

10 Years (Jungkook x Reader) (10 Seconds Part 3)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Manipulation, Murder, scenes of Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mentions of Past Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Torture (not depicted), Cult Like Activity, Forced Relationships, Smut, Blood (lots of it), Fear, Contraception 

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview:  He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is.

A/N: SURPRISE! HAPPY HALLOWEEN BABIES! Just for you, here is part three! I spent a whole week dedicating hours to write it so I could have a treat ready for you this Halloween! To date, this is my favorite chapter and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did!

Read Part Here (1) // Read Part Here (2) // Read Part Here (4)

You had pissed him off, that much was obvious. His fingers were still curled into the fabric of your underwear, one flex away from ripping them off. His jaw was tense and his cheeks hallowed in irritation as he fixed you with his intense glare. Jungkook was many things to you, the number one being your source of immeasurable fear. In that moment though, your glare was just as harsh; you were just as angry as he was but for far different reasons. 

You were angry, but you also weren’t stupid. You knew that this could go one of two ways. You could fight back and piss him off further resulting in another punishment or him taking you anyways. Or you could play his game. 

For once, you thanked God that you were such a fucking crybaby because letting all your pent up feelings out was going to be good for what you were going to do next. Your lips trembled as your eyes watered, brimming with tears that threatened to wet your flushed cheeks. You clenched your eyes shut as a choked cry left your lips, your hand coming up to harshly smack his chest. 

“You don’t really love me!” You cried, trying to roll onto your side and away from him while curling your hands into your near naked chest. 

There was a pause of silence between the two of you, his confusion palpable. You pulled your legs free from him and curled up into a ball, loud sobs leaving your chest that sounded more animal than human. As your cries grew louder he finally snapped out of shock, his hands desperately reaching for you as you shrunk away from his touch. 

“Baby, baby!” He called, his voice sounding more hurt each time you rejected him; shrinking into yourself further. “Of course I love you, how couldn’t I?”

“No!” You yelled, sounding more like a petulant child than a scorned lover. “All you want is to use me, you don’t care about me!” You cried dramatically, turning onto your stomach so you could bury your face in your forearms. 

It was like all of the events you had endured were becoming fuel for you, each horrible thing he had done to you spurring tears upon tears to help your performance. You would make him believe you, you had to if it would buy you some time. 

“That’s not true! I love you more than anything, I just wanted to show you how much I love you, baby.” He said, his hands sliding over your waist and under your stomach to turn you over to face him. Your eyes remained clenched shut as he rolled you over, your face wet and hot from the tantrum you had thrown. You almost had him, you could feel him walking straight into your trap. You had him right where you wanted him. 

“You don’t care,” You sobbed, shaking your head. “You only want to have sex with me. You don’t even care about what I want.” You sniffled, bringing your shaking hands up to cover your tear streaked face.

“Fuck, that’s far from the truth. Please tell me what you want, baby. Please, I’ll do anything for you.” He whispered, his much lager hands gently curling around your smaller wrists and prying them from your face so he could catch a glimpse of you. 

Your heart pounded harder at his words, your first thoughts heading towards your freedom. But you quickly stunted that thought, you knew when he said “anything” he meant “anything but that.” You would have to make do with what you had, and your first mission was to keep yourself untouched by him. 

He brought your hand up to his face, pressing light kisses to each finger as soft pleas fell from his lips. He really was at your mercy, intoxicated by your scent, touch, and doe eyes. All it took was a few tears to have him like this for you. But you still knew better, you knew there was a beast lurking beneath the surface of those innocent round eyes and bunny-like smiles. You wouldn’t be fooled by him.

“I-” You began, a hiccup breaking your voice. “I want to save myself for marriage, I always have.” You said, forcing yourself to remain still as he ceased pressing kisses to your knuckles only stopping to raise your hand to cup the smooth flesh of his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut as leaned into your palm, breathing in your scent just by your pulse.

“So, you’re my good girl then? No one else has touched you?” He asked, long lashes still grazing the dips beneath his eyes. 

You nodded in affirmation only to realize he still couldn’t see you. “Yes, no one has.” You agreed.

A sigh of relief had him falling limp against you, removing your hand from his cheek so he could press a kiss to the center of your palm. His demeanor had shifted so quickly even you were surprised. He gently looped his arms beneath your waist and dragged the two of you up into a sitting position, sliding you onto his lap with ease and pressing your chest to his own. It was horrifyingly intimate, the feeling of his bare chest flush against your barely clothed one. He was warm and strong and would have been comforting had the circumstances been different.

That was something you thought often: had the circumstances been different. But they weren’t. Jungkook was as selfish as he was lonely, and because of that he was delusional and overbearing. Sometimes his presence closed in so tightly on your own you felt as if you couldn’t get a single breath in. And because of that, you longed to be miles away from him. He was suffocating you so slowly and ever so painfully. 

His fingers wove themselves into your hair, guiding you to rest your head on his shoulder as he held you close. “I'll wait for you, and only for you.”

Hook, line, and sinker. 

He held you to his chest for a while and nothing was said between the two of you. There was only the steady rise and fall of your chests against one another while his fingers carded through your hair. Your eyes had fluttered shut yet your body was still tense, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be touched in this way. But you knew you could never fully let your guard down around him, he was far too unpredictable. But all that time spent with him had been in your favor, now you knew what made him tick. And you were going to exploit that.

Jungkook pulled you away from his body, his eyes tracing your face. He gently cupped your face in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss, so light it was barely there, to your lips. You could feel him sigh against your lower lip before he reluctantly pulled away. He had to prove to you now that he wasn’t solely after your body, although that was an added benefit for him. He could wait, just for a little while longer.

He leaned over the side of the bed and scooped up his previously abandoned shirt, guiding your arms through the sleeves and pulling the collar down over your head. He couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your head popping up and out of the shirt, your figure drowning in his clothes. His eyes strayed, following where the hem of his shirt laid at the tops of your thighs. You were so tempting, it was no wonder you thought he was only after your body.

Before he could get too distracted he leaned over you and yanked the chain of the lamp, effectively drowning the two of you in a deep pool of darkness. You froze for a moment, your heart thudding as you lost sight of him and what he was doing. You couldn’t see him, but you could still definitely feel him. His strong arms had already curled around your waist, yanking you down on top of him. You yelped in fear as you once more collided with his chest. The man was like a fucking brick wall. You could feel the ginger brush of his fingers around your wrist, guiding your hand to rest on his bare chest as he tucked your head into the crook of his neck. You were sure if anyone were to walk in you would look like lovers. How far from the truth they would be.

You were shaking now, the reality of what has almost happened finding you in the seclusion of the dark. But you had to remind yourself, you had outsmarted him this time. You were finally beginning to understand the game: fake it til you make it. If you could play along for long enough then you could find your way out of here. And you were more determined than ever. 

“You cold, baby?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence first. He must have felt you shaking. 

You nodded in response, trying to play off what you were actually feeling. Fear. Jungkook grasped the edge of the blanket and pulled it up higher, pressing the two of you together beneath the warmth of the covers. You closed your eyes once more, and this time you tried to pretend he was someone else. Anyone else. It was much harder than anticipated, you knew his scent, his touch, and his form. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get rid of him. 

But you would try. 

You could feel sleep coming for you, the crash of emotions you had survived finally taking their toll on you once more. 

You had made it 10 days, how much longer would you have to last? 

“Baby,” Jungkook hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

Long enough to escape, that was for sure. 

~~~~~~~

The next day, things already seemed to be so different. To say you were surprised was an understatement. The ten days of hell you had endured with Jungkook could have been a dream for all you knew. He still was the same way you remembered him to be, clingy, whiny, and overbearingly affectionate. But for the duration of that day, nothing he did had the same sexual undertone you had dealt with for the past ten days.

You were relieved, it seemed like you were finally getting a hold of your horrible situation. Well, for now at least. Jungkook was going to be far easier to fool than his father. And you couldn’t lie, his father terrified you to no end. He had trained Jungkook’s mother into absolute obedience with his unrelenting and ruthless nature. You were sure that if anyone was going to be able to spot your fakery from a mile away, it was going to be him without a doubt. So you had one choice, you were going to have to sell it good. 

And that meant having to do things you really didn’t want to do. 

Very quickly, you found yourself taking on the role of a traditional housewife. Jungkook had made it clear before that that was something he didn’t expect from you. All he wanted was you, or so he claimed. He said that he liked doing things together, he didn’t want you being forced into the traditional role you never truly wanted. But you knew what his father expected, and if you were going to win this game you were going to have to sacrifice a few of your pieces.

And you also knew that if you could keep this charade up for long enough, you could fool them all. It was only a matter of time, and you were willing to give up a few days, weeks, or months to find your freedom again. And if that meant making meals with Jungkook’s mother, cleaning the house, and folding fucking laundry you would do it all with a smile.

Days were passing faster and melting into weeks, and at this point you couldn’t really tell how long you had been missing. You wondered if your family was looking for you, if your friends missed you, or if everyone assumed you were dead in a ditch at this point, your flesh melting away and returning to the earth from which it came from. Sometimes, you even wondered if that would have been better. To have been discarded and left to disappear if it meant you didn’t have to pretend to be something you weren’t and if it meant that you wouldn’t have to live in fear of being punished for a misstep or cower under the sharp glare of Jungkook’s father. But you were determined, fucking terrified but so determined to make it out of this alive. 

The call of your name pulled you from the lull of your thoughts. You shook your head to clear you from your daze. Your hands were plunged under warm soapy water, a plate held in your motionless hands. 

“There you are, I thought I lost you for a moment.” Jungkook’s mother giggled, her small hands delicately drying the plate in her grasp. 

You gave her a gentle smile in response, lifting the plate from the water and giving it one more rinse before handing it over to her. There was one upside to this endeavor, you had someone you could call a friend. You liked her, it was hard not to with all of the time you spent together. Her warm, motherly nature was comforting in a place like this. And it made you miss your own mom even more.

“Jungkook seems happier lately.” She mused, gazing out of the window above the sink. You followed her line of sight, seeing Jungkook and his father outside on the back deck with the red flare of a cigarette tucked between his father’s lips. 

She wasn’t wrong, ever since you had started playing along he seemed more relaxed, happier even. Even now a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he listened to whatever his father was saying. But you could tell he wasn’t really listening, his eyes had that far off look to them like he was somewhere else entirely.

“I guess I have you to thank for that,” She said softly, setting down the freshly dried plate to turn and look at you. “I’ve never seen him so happy before. Jungkook was always a quiet child, he kept to himself for the most part. But you bring out parts of him I rarely got to see.” She smiled.

Yeah, the depraved parts are what you brought out. You let out a gentle sigh, welcoming the faux smile you had grown accustomed to to settle on your lips. “I wish we could have met on different terms.”

That wasn’t a total lie. 

“I know, sweetie. The first couple years are always the hardest.” She replied, lightly resting her hands on the tops of your shoulders with a tender smile. “It just takes some time for people like us, outsiders, to get used to their way of life.”

This wasn’t the first time she had told you this and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last. Sometimes you forgot she wasn’t just a mother, she was a person who has been brainwashed so meticulously you had no doubt all of the work that had been done on her had no way of coming unraveled. And you would be damned if you were going to let that happen to you too. You liked her a lot, and she liked you too. But you had no doubt in your mind that if it came down to it, she would never help you escape. Most likely, she would turn you over to her husband and son. You couldn’t trust anyone, not even the person who had once been like you.

“I hope so.” You lied through your smile, gently squeezing her wrist in affirmation. Ever since you had stopped crying, it had become easier to lie. 

The sliding glass door off of the kitchen slid open with a click, the scent of cigarette smoke wafting into the kitchen. Jungkook’s father stood in the doorframe, peering into the kitchen and settling his gaze on you and his wife. He fixed you with a stern look, the look in his eyes practically freezing you to your spot like a deer in headlights. 

The only ones you were fooling were Jungkook and his mother. That much was obvious. 

“Baby!” Jungkook called, his bunny smile and doe eyes catching your attention from behind his father's shoulder where he was standing on the porch. 

He looked so relaxed compared to the first few weeks you had spent with him. Had you already lulled him into the belief that you were finally becoming compliant to his demands? You couldn’t be too sure. He was leaned back against the deck fencing, his elbows propped up behind him on the top of the fence. His one leg was a little stretched out in front of the other one as he looked at you, the golden cast of the setting sun bathing his lithe form. He looked like any other normal guy on vacation at the lake: a pair of ripped jeans tucked into thick boots and an open flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Your eyes lingered over the tattoos that decorated his arm, he really would have been any girl’s dream guy. It was a shame that he had to warp that into a nightmare.

Jungkook’s smile widened eagerly as he motioned for you to join him. Outside. 

Your heart began to flutter in your chest, it felt like the wings of a hummingbird thrumming in anticipation as the latch of its cage was lifted. You tried your best to calm yourself, you remembered what happened the last time you had fled into the woods, it had only taken mere moments for him to find you once again. You had not a doubt in your mind that Jungkook knew these forests better than anyone. You couldn’t run, not just yet. You hadn’t fooled everyone. You were sure that a better opportunity would arise. 

You took a calming breath and quickly dried your hands off before approaching the door. Jungkook’s father remained in the doorframe, his presence casting a shadow over you. He scared you far more than Jungkook did, and for the first time in your life you were willing to run into the arms of your captor if it meant he would keep you out of the way of his father’s wrath. That was the one thing you were sure of when it came down to it - Jungkook would protect you if he was in love with you like he claimed to be.

Your head was bowed low, your eyes fixed to your bare feet and the tile beneath them. You looked like a rabbit - you remained still like it would stop the curious predator from approaching. 

“Don’t try anything if you know what’s good for you.” He whispered lowly, his voice was gravelly and deep in his chest. The smell of smoke wafted under your nose as he stepped to the side, allowing you access to the deck. You flinched from his sudden movement before hurriedly rushing past him and outside. 

The fleeting sun felt so good against your skin, your chest heaved as you took in a deep inhale of the fresh air. It felt like layers of clothes and weights had been removed from your body and the oppressive weight of Jungkook’s father’s stare was confined to the inside of the lake house. This was the freest you had felt in weeks, or what had most likely turned into months. Time was escaping you faster and faster every day.

You jolted in surprise, your eyes fluttering open as Jungkook’s fingers grazed the smooth skin of your hand. You hadn’t heard him approach in your moment of euphoria. He looked down at you with a gentle smile and a gleam to his chocolate brown eyes. He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is. The last thing you wanted was to fall victim to Stockholm syndrome. And you knew you weren’t, he still made you uncomfortable and he had done awful things to you. Thoughts like those could override any one of his sweet, innocent looks. For now. If you didn’t act faster, time would grasp you in it’s clutches. 

Jungkook raised his hand to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking the flesh of your cheek as his other hand came to rest on your waist. He looked at you like you were the center of the universe, like nothing else mattered to him anymore. His touch was warm but his gaze was uncomfortable. You didn’t want him to look at you like that, like he was in love with you. Not after everything he had done. 

But you also couldn’t deny that there was a part of you that understood him. His father was fucking horrible and he had you, his wife, and his son all under his thumb. Jungkook and his mother were captives just as much as you were. That was the only sympathy you had ever felt for him.

Jungkook’s eyes had slid shut, his large hand encircling your wrist and raising your open palm to his lips to press a light kiss to the center of your hand. That was something he had started doing, but you never dared to ask him about it. You had assumed it was his way of keeping himself together, like he was taking a small hit instead of drowning himself in ecstacy. It was like he was pacing himself with you.

“Walk with me?” He whispered, his eyes slid closed as he breathed in your scent, the two of you encompassed by the light of the setting sun. 

“Okay.” You answered softly, trying to keep your legs cemented to where they were before they took flight and had you fleeing the lake house once again. 

Jungkook smiled at you again, his fingers hastily lacing yours with his own. His tight grip would be enough to keep you grounded for now. 

He led you down the steps until your feet met the soft grass once more. The cuts to your feet had healed and the feeling of the grass between your toes was soothing and comforting. Jungkook’s grip was loosening and  allowing him to gently tug you in the direction of the lake. You had only seen it from the windows of the house and just barely when it was illuminated by the moon that night you had tried to flee for the first time. You pushed down the thoughts of escape as your pace began to match his, your hands hanging between the two of you and swaying gently as you approached the little beach at the edge of the large, blue lake.

Your eyebrows began to knit together in confusion as you caught sight of the full stretch of the beach. There looked to be a little porch that began on the grass and stretched over the sandy beach. It had a wooden terrace stretching overtop decorated with fairy lights and was exposed to the sky above. You could see there was a thin air mattress set on top of the deck area covered in various pillows and blankets with a cooler set aside. It was insanely intimate and bordered on romantic. Had he set this up for the two of you?

You shivered in discomfort, unsure of what to do. Maybe you should suggest walking down by the water, you really didn’t want to go over to that “love nest.”

“Arms out.” Jungkook suddenly said, sliding in front of you. You looked at him in confusion until he set his hands on your arms and raised them up by your sides. He wordlessly slid the flannel off his shoulders and began to help you slip the sleeves onto your bare arms. He thought you were cold again. At least you could use that as an excuse during your ploy.

The shirt was big on you which was no surprise at this point. All of his clothes were baggy on you, most of them were baggy on him too. You looked like a child who had gotten into their parents closet. But the look in Jungkook’s eyes spoke volumes. It was a possessive thing, he liked seeing you in his clothes, he liked it when his scent lingered on you. He liked that he had you where he wanted you. Little did he know, you had him where you wanted him as well. 

Once he was done fixing his shirt around you he smoothed the collar down and sent a smile your way. “Come on.”

Jungkook tried to walk forward, your grip on his hand stopping him short. He pivoted on his heel, the sand kicking up slightly. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

Your teeth sunk into the flesh of your lower lip as your eyes focused on the sight of a little crab crawling quickly across the surface of the sand. “Can we go over there?” You asked, jerking your head in the direction of the lake. 

Jungkook turned, his dark eyes settling on the waves rushing over the shallow drop off of sand. “Hm, not today. It’s pretty cold, I don’t want you to get sick sweetheart.”

“I won't,” You tried once more, your eyes wide and pleading. “Jungkook-”

“We’ll go tomorrow.” He cut you off, his eyes boring into your own. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that this wasn’t up for debate. If he wanted to do something that badly, he was going to do it. He gave your hand a firm tug and pulled you into him, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders and tuck you into his side.

You didn’t look at him as you walked, your eyes fixed to the sight of your toes turning over the sand as you walked. But you could feel his stare burning into the side of your head like it always was. Every time you thought just maybe he couldn’t be that bad, he reminded you quickly of what your situation was like. He has the final say in everything, whether he agreed or disagreed with you. 

The two of you stepped up onto the little wooden terrace, Jungkook taking a seat on the mattress and pulling you down in between his legs allowing your back to lean up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and set his chin on the top of your head. The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon of the lake casting an ethereal glow over the water. 

You were glad you didn’t miss this sight, you supposed. It was probably the most uplifting thing you had seen in a long while. It wouldn’t be long now before the sun disappeared and it would be dark across the lake. Already the lights strung up above you seemed to be growing stronger as the sun faded away. 

You could feel Jungkook’s hand coming up to play with your hair, his touch the most delicate it had ever been. It was so gentle that if you closed your eyes you could pretend it was just the wind ruffling your hair. He spoke your name softly, the hand that had occupied your tresses caressed the length of your arm and settled on the top of your hand. Your brows knitted together in confusion as you felt his other hand flip yours over and settle something in the center of your palm. It was smooth, cold, and metallic to the touch with hard edges. 

You dropped your chin and searched for whatever it was he had just given you. He laughed softly, cupping your palm shut so that you couldn’t see.

“Ask me.” He simply said, his eyes aglow with mischief.

“Let me see.” You said, trying to pry your fingers open beneath his hold. It was no use.

“Try again, maybe a little nicer this time.” He teased.

 You huffed in frustration, already over whatever he was up too. “Jungkook, give me back my hand, please.” You said, adding more emphasis than needed on the “please.”

He chuckled low in his chest and released his grip on your hand. Without thinking you uncurled your fingers and looked at what he had given you. On sight you felt a wave of nausea roll through your stomach, your heart dropping in your chest. 

Sitting delicately on the smooth skin of your palm was an engagement ring. 

You couldn’t move, you were frozen in absolute fear. The only thing you could feel was the violent thudding of your heart in your chest and the beginnings of a cold sweat on your neck. You had either played your part too well, or Jungkook was more than aware of what you had been doing. You couldn’t rule out his father either, he was just as likely as having a hand in this. 

“I’ve waited for ten years to ask you to marry me, and I can’t imagine a better time than now to finally ask you.”

You were spiralling, you could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming. Your vision was focusing and unfocusing, the sound of your rapid heartbeats pounding in your eardrums. Were you having a heart attack? It felt like you were having a heart attack. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like your lungs were swelling and cutting off any oxygen that tried to slip into your mouth. 

But there was one thing you could focus on, he said ten years. That math didn’t make sense, when the two of you had first met in highschool and that was only four years ago. 

“Ten years?” You echoed, the panic clear in your voice. How many more secrets was he harboring?

He hummed in response, his slender fingers picking up the diamond embedded ring from your grasp. You hadn’t realized how tightly you had been holding it until he took it from you, the diamond had made little incisions in your palm that were running with specks of blood. 

“I first met you when we were freshmen, but I first saw you when we were little.” He reminisced, a far off look in his eyes as he toyed with the ring. “I just caught a glimpse of you, but that was enough. You were wearing a white sundress and the cutest little butterfly sandals. I remember I asked my mom if you were an angel. She told me no, but I told her that I was going to marry you anyways because you were so pretty. And I kept my promise, didn’t I? 

You could feel yourself fading faster than the sun, you were so confused and panicked your body was on the brink of shutting down. You could feel the burn of bile rising up your throat as he lifted your left hand and gently slid the ring down your ring finger.

“You don’t have to say yes, but you can’t say no.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “That’s how it works in my family.”

~~~~~~~

You don’t remember much of what happened before you passed out, but you did wake up wrapped in Jungkook’s arms in his bed under the blankets. And that goddamn ring was still on your finger. And if things weren’t already bad enough, then they were bound to get worse. You were getting “married” in only a few days. 

To say that was jarring didn’t even cover half of what you were feeling. Not only was Jungkook trying to keep you bound to him in every way possible, but it was going to happen and fast. You tried to calm yourself by remembering whatever ceremony you were going to go through would not be legally binding. You wouldn’t actually be married in the eyes of the law. The two of you would have to get a marriage license and have it approved with witnesses, and there was no way you wouldn’t get help if you were dragged to a courthouse. Jungkook was persistant but he wasn’t stupid. This would be purely symbolic, and nothing more. But that thought did not drive away your stress or the butterflies in your stomach. 

And of course your short days full of trying on various dresses and hairstyles did not help one bit. Jungkook’s mom was excited, her face aglow with pure happiness as she chose dresses on your behalf and made even more decisions regarding  the ceremony on your behalf. Apparently, that was tradition. The “outsider” was rarely involved in situations like these, the mother in law and the prospective spouse took care of everything. You were too sick to your stomach to do anything, no matter what you said you knew that Jungkook wouldn’t listen to you. He had waited ten years to propose he said, there was nothing that would stop him from finally getting what he wanted. And once the two of you were “married” you were out of excuses to deny his advances. You were so fucked. 

Maybe you should have ran into the woods again when he had taken you out of the house. You should have just thrown caution to the wind and tried again. No, Jungkook would have caught you. You knew that. Maybe it would have been better to lay yourself in the lake and float away into nothingness. But you knew, no matter what you did or where you went Jungkook would follow you to the ends of the earth. He was inescapable, and the thought of that left you with an intense feeling of claustrophobia. Much like the prey you were, he would hunt you down and corner you with no possibilities of escape before going in for the kill. 

It still wasn’t time to run yet, you had convinced yourself of that. Now really would be the worst time to flee with the influx of members of Jungkook’s family arriving for the “wedding” that was to take place. Just the thought of that word had your stomach churning in unease.

His family was much larger than you expected and, to your horror, they all were just like him. Every single one of them knew about your predicament, and in fact amongst them were people like you who had been dragged into this life. Amongst the supposed wedding party were kidnappers and victims who were all coming to celebrate another successful hunt and capture of a prize. 

It only took five days to gather everyone and everything for the ceremony. It had all been rushed in order to get you to this point where you were once again in the room you had first woken in when Jungkook had taken you. Or, as his mother liked to call it, the bridal suite. The room itself hadn’t changed though, the walls were still that off white color, the barred windows still surrounded my lacy, gauze curtains, and the bedspread was still baby pink, white, and frilly. The only difference was the wedding gown hanging from a hook on the bedroom door.

You ran your fingers through your freshly washed hair, knotting the tresses in your hold and tugging in anxiety. Your leg was bouncing rapidly, how had it gotten to this point? How were you supposed to go out there and do this? You couldn’t. Not when you were about to be surrounded by kidnappers and their pets kept closely to their side. 

A knock to the door had you rocking back in surprise, your head jerking up to see who was there. The door remained shut and silence followed suit. You looked on in curiosity until a voice called your name through the door. 

“Are you decent, sweetheart?” It was Mrs. Jeon. 

“Yes.” You replied, your voice cracking. The shower you had just taken wasn’t enough to hide all of the crying you had been doing all morning. But at least you didn’t have to see Jungkook, that was one upside. He refused to come near you until the ceremony, he was a firm believer that it was bad luck to see you beforehand.

You were grateful. 

You heard the click of the lock being undone before you saw the door swing open and Mrs. Jeon pocket the key she held in her hand. She looked happy, far more excited than you had anticipated. She was already done up for the ceremony, a formal dress laid over her figure and her hair twisted into an updo. She was naturally pretty and you could see what resemblance she had to her son. It sent a chill down your spine.

Not much was said between the two of you as she ushered you over to the vanity, gently gripping the tops of your shoulders and guiding you down onto the stool. Her work was done quietly and delicately. And you were so out of it, you didn’t pay much attention. Your eyes were dull and unfocused, staring into the mirror but not processing what you were seeing in the slightest. 

“Sweetheart, what I’m going to tell you will be very important so I need you to listen closely.” She hummed, her hands fluttering around your face as she began to lightly apply makeup. “Have you ever been to a wedding?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as she gently applied eyeshadow to your lids. “Yes.”

“Good, then you already know what to expect. But, there are going to be some changes.” She said, tilting your head back with a feather light touch. “During the ceremony, don’t say anything.”

“What?” You asked, your face tensing in confusion. You felt her hands gently tap your cheeks, a silent way of signaling you needed to relax the muscles of your face. 

“Jungkook will take care of everything, vows and all. You just need to be there as he does so.” She explained. That made sense in some twisted way. If no part of the ceremony involved you talking, then you couldn’t exactly say no. “The objections will be left out as well.”

How ironic. 

“Other than that, things will go exactly how you expect them too. As long as you do your part, everything will be just fine.” She smiled as you opened your eyes once more. 

You felt her hands lightly smoothe your freshly styled hair, a fond look gracing her kind features. You felt a strange connection to her, you supposed it had to do with your shared experiences. She was taking on the role of a twisted mentor, imparting some of her “wisdom” onto you to help you as best she could.

The part you were most scared of came next, the dress. You tried your best not to look at yourself as the chiffon and lace slid smoothly over your bare skin. It was cool to the touch, light and airy unlike most dresses you had seen brides wear. By all rights it was stunning, you only wished you didn’t have to wear it if it meant that you would be walking down the aisle towards a man you never dreamt of being yours.

You wore no veil, and for that you were thankful. You couldn’t stand the thought of Jungkook having to lift it from your face like you had seen done before time and time again. Instead, a halo of white carnations and fabric butterflies graced the crown of your head. They were real, their scent fresh and welcoming. A part of you ached at the thought of them withering away, their stems having been sliced apart. They were beautiful, but would only be that way for a fraction of time.

You seated yourself on the edge of the bed, your bare feet gently grazing the silk of the comforter. Your heart was pounding wildly, this was a different type of fear you had never felt before. It was the anxiety of having to provide a performance for all of Jungkook’s family and the knowledge that you couldn’t run. 

Mrs. Jeon knelt down to the floor, a soft groan falling from her painted lips as she felt the ache in her knees. She reached a slender arm out underneath the bed, retrieving a white box tied closed with a satin ribbon. You looked on in curiosity as she carefully untied the bow and set the ribbon on the mattress.

“I wore these, Jungkook’s grandmother wore them, and the women before her.” She explained as she tugged the lid of the box free.

Upon seeing what laid inside the box, tears immediately began to prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart pounding wildly against your ribcage. Your shaky hand came up to cup your mouth to stifle any cries that attempted to escape. Held between the soft hands of your captor’s mother was a set of leg cuffs, each cuff meant to be sealed around your ankles that were held together by a length of chain that would prevent you from taking the strides you would need to run. They were treating you like a prisoner. 

“I-I can’t put those on,” You choked, “Please, please don’t make me do it.” You sobbed, shuffling away from her as best you could. 

“Oh, sweetie.” She cooed, setting them back down into the box and bringing you into her motherly embrace. “It’s only for a short while, I promise they’ll be off by your first dance. And they’re not as heavy as they look and no one will see them under your dress.”

“I don’t want to.” You sniffled as her fingers gently tapped away the tears in an attempt to stop your makeup from running. 

“I know, neither did I.” She sighed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Jungkook thought you didn’t need them but my husband thought it would be for the best.”

You froze at what she said. His father wanted this. 

“He’s a man of tradition for sure.” She giggled, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to relax you. “It’ll be quicker than you think, trust me.”

There was no room for debate, you had learned that quickly with the Jeon family. They always got their way and never took no for an answer. You experienced that first hand. So, all you could do was close your eyes, clench your fists, and tense your jaw as she snapped the cold metal cuffs around each of your ankles. 

“See? Not so bad.” She hummed before taking your hand and helping you to stand. “Everyone is waiting on us, it’s best we don’t keep them waiting any longer.”

She guided you out of the room, the sound of the chain connecting your anklets dragging over the wood of the floor sent a cringe to your face. They were loud. From what you knew, the ceremony was to take place outside right in the fringe of the forest. At least there would be grass and maybe then they wouldn’t be as distracting or cacophonous as they were now. At least that was what you hoped, it was like if you pretended they weren’t there maybe they would actually disappear. 

You didn’t make it far before you felt that familiar, sharp glare digging into you. His father was already here. 

“Now, since your father won’t be able to give you away we’re going to. Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Jeon smiled, a sharp contrast to the stoic face of her husband. 

The thought of having to wrap your arm around his own nauseated you more than anything. Being with Jungkook was like heaven compared to his father. You feared his hold and gaze to the point that you craved Jungkook’s touch. Anything was better than having to be that close to a man so evil. 

You didn’t respond, fear having paralyzed your throat. It didn’t matter what you said, it was going to happen anyways. That much you knew to be true. 

The three of you linked arms, you in the middle of the parents of your kidnapper. Mrs. Jeon held your left arm gently, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your forearm. Mr. Jeon gripped you tightly, his hold unrelenting and harboring a warning. You wouldn’t be surprised if once he released you his fingerprints would be left behind as purple marks to your skin. 

As the three of you began to walk and exit the lake house, your inescapability became far more apparent. You could see the large crowd of people waiting for you, their eyes burning into you. From the large group, everyone was lining the aisle with their arms linked like they were creating a chain of people in preparation for you. With a horrifying realization you came to understand what they were doing. They were forming a wall on either side of you, creating a tunnel to walk through that would prevent you from escaping. 

They had planned everything out perfectly, years of trial and error and countless “weddings” allowing them to perfect their formula. They knew what they were doing and had no intention of letting you go. They were all sick every single one of them. 

And what was most likely the most upsetting sight was the children in the group, even they  

joined in on the human paper chain. They were little blank slates, perfect models that were trained from day one on what their way of life would be. You couldn’t help but see Jungkook reflected in their gaze. In your mind you could picture him as a small boy, large brown doe eyes watching a bound bride floating down the aisle in her white dress. It was no wonder he was so fucked up, and evidently those children would grow up just like he did. 

This was the first time you thought about fixing Jungkook, as you were walking through the tunnel of people, white petals crushing beneath your feet, and the drag of the chain between your legs like a snake slithering through grass. This was the first time you had even considered that to be a possibility. 

Your head lifted as the thought entered your mind, your gaze flicking around until it settled on him at the end of the aisle under an arch of moss and carnations. He was dressed nicely, but not in a tux like many grooms had been. He wore dress pants, held up by a set of suspenders over his shoulders. The top few buttons of his shirt had been left undone and exposed some of the smooth, tan flesh hiding beneath the fabric. He had also rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, his arm of tattoos proudly on display. He looked relaxed despite the excited smile that lit up his face and the gleam of adoration in those dark eyes. Even you couldn’t deny how attractive he looked like that.

A firm squeeze to your arm had your teeth sinking into your lip as the three of you ceased walking, Jungkook mere steps away from you. This was the first time you wanted to run towards him instead of away from him because it meant you would be able to escape his father. 

“Behave.” His father whispered just beside your ear, his voice deep in his chest and laced with warning. 

Without another word, his hand slipped down your wrist and guided your hand into his sons. And just like that, he and his wife turned and took their seat. And you could finally breathe again. For now. 

Jungkook was smiling at you, that familiar bunny like grin gracing his lips. His hands cradled your own, holding them between the two of you. You were sure he thought all of his dreams were coming true. He tense his fingers, giving your hands a firm squeeze of excitement. You had never seen him happier.

You could see an older gentleman beneath the makeshift altar, you assumed he was there to “officiate” the proceedings. You couldn’t help but zone out, the sight before you was distracting. The makeshift wedding his family had created would have been something out of a dream had this all been voluntary on your part. Forest weddings had always appeared to be so beautiful, and now that you were here you couldn’t help but agree. Strands of green moss formed a canopy above the wedding party, delicate vines of white flowers hanging from above and all around you. The aisle you had walked down had been made of moss, grass, ferns, and flat stones littered with white flowers and petals. 

It was absolutely breathtaking, and you knew once the sun went down and the fairy lights flickered to life it would be even more stunning. 

You were suddenly snapped out of your daze as you felt Jungkook's hand cup the side of your face before leaning down to you and pressing his lips tightly to your own. 

You had missed the entire thing. 

You could vaguely hear the cheers of his family behind you as he held you close, kissing you surprisingly hard in front of his entire family. You could feel your stomach tightening in anxiety and your face flushing with heat in embarrassment. You felt him pull back for a moment, hot air brushing over your lips before he reconnected with you again, and again, and again until you grasped the fabric of his shirt and pulled him away. 

He smiled at you in satisfaction as his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. He was showing off, letting everyone know that you were his and that there was nothing you could do about. 

Your heart was in your stomach, the dread piling up as you felt him tugging you back down the aisle. He giggled as you almost tripped, his strides too long for you to keep up with when your gate was impaired by the length of chain connecting your ankles. Without a word he turned and scooped you up in his arms, ironically carrying you bridal style back towards the lake house where the “reception” was to be held. 

You turned your head to look over his shoulder, your eyes widening as you watched his family rushing after the two of you in what could have very well been a stampede. Your eyes lingered on a few of the people coming after you, it wasn’t hard to see who was an “outsider” like you. They had that same hopeless hollowness to their eyes, their will having dried up a long time ago. You could feel your heartbeat quickening as you caught sight of one woman. She walked quickly, trying to keep up with the man beside her as she adjusted the infant in her arms. She looked tired and depressed beneath her layer of makeup. You could see the strain of her smile smooth away when her eyes connected with yours. You could see the message she was sending you clear as day without saying a word. 

“I’m sorry.” 

~~~~~~~

The reception was the most normal part of the wedding and something you were more familiar with. The only change was instead of the garter removal, your leg cuffs were removed. There was a part of you that was glad you were spared the mortifying experience of watching Jungkook’s head disappear under the chiffon of your skirt and feeling his lips drag across the length of your leg as his teeth pulled the garter free from you. 

Although, the leg cuffs were just as horrible and embarrassing. You were certain if you didn’t calm yourself down you would be throwing up all over the pristine white dress you wore. You could visualize the pure horror that would spread across Mrs. Jeon’s face.

You were sure that that wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened though. But tonight you had been doing your very best to hide your disdain for everyone there, you still had a part to play regardless of the situation you had been put in. You didn’t have to look happy, you just had to hide your fear to the best of your ability. 

That was easier said than done. 

It was when Jungkook left you alone with his sister that your facade began to crumble away. 

“Jimin, Taehyung!” He yelled, his eyes lighting up as he darted away from the table you were seated at in excitement. You watched him race across the room to the two men he had called for, locking them into a tight embrace. 

Your legs twitched, the thought of fleeing always at the back of your mind. Now would be the worst time of all times, who wouldn’t be able to see the only one dressed all in white sprinting into the woods. The last thing you wanted to do was start a hunting trip.

The soft delicate call of your name reminded you that you were still in company. The empty seat that Jungkook once occupied has been filled by the slender form of his sister. She looked just like him, but softer and feminine. She had a gentle smile fixed to her lips that reminded you exactly of her mother. There was not a single bit of her father in her, genetic wise.

“It’s nice to meet you,” She grinned. “All of these years Jungkook wouldn’t shut up about you and he only lets me meet you once you’re getting married, that little punk.”

You bit your lip before you could spit anything back. You could feel the blood leave your face as she spoke. It always disturbed you when you remembered for just how long Jungkook had been waiting for you, watching you, longing for you. 

“Hell, he was the first person I introduced to my boyfriend.” She said with a roll of her eyes, “I mean of course I couldn’t take him on my own, he was much too heavy for just me alone.”

Your heart stilled as you slowly turned your head to face her. “Too heavy?” You echoed, hoping she didn’t mean what you thought she did. 

“Mhmm, the first time I saw him was at the gym. He was just so much bigger than me I knew I couldn’t take him home on my own. So, I called Jungkook. He made things so much easier, he really is such a good brother to me.” She said with a fond smile, her eyes seeming to glaze as she reminisced. 

All this time, you had assumed it was only the men of the family that partook in the kidnappings. But no, it was anyone who was an “insider.” Anyone who was born into the family. That explained how Jungkook had made no mistakes when he took you, he had practice with someone much bigger than you were. You quickly reached for your glass of wine, chugging back as much of it as you could to calm yourself before you slipped into another attack. 

“He’s right over there,” She sighed, nodding in his direction. “Jackson and I have been together for about six months now, he’s a tough one to train that's for sure.”

You followed her gaze, your eyes settling on the man that stood mere inches away from her father. He was undeniably handsome, but you could still see the fear etched deep into his face as he stood next to Mr. Jeon. You were confused why he was still there, he was strong so he had to be capable of escape. In fact, you were sure he could take down Jungkook’s father quite easily. That was of course until you realized what his handicap was. You were confused for a moment, it looked like he was wearing a choker perhaps. But, upon further inspection you realized what it was. A collar. 

Jungkook’s sister hummed to herself, setting her clutch down on the table next to you before she undid it and pulled out a small remote. “It’s harder for women like us in this family. Subduing guys like Jackson isn’t easy. But one controlled shock works wonders.” She laughed, a sadistic smile curling into her mouth as she stroked the remote. 

So, that was the part of her father she inherited. 

You could see the horror on Jackson’s face as his dark eyes connected with the remote she held between her dainty fingers. Without her even saying a word he was rushing to her side in fear of her even thinking about pressing a single button on that remote.

You were light headed, the sudden realization of just how horrible this family was allowed the glass of wine to slip from your fingers, the dark red liquid spilling over some of the white carnations that rested in front of you decorating them in jagged, red stripes.

“Baby?” Jungkook’s voice called to you, and for the first time that word was comforting to your ears. In comparison to his sister, you had lucked out when it came to the Jeon siblings.

You sent him a strained smile as you lifted the stem of the wine glass and set it back up right. Your gaze lingered on the stained carnations, a sour thought entering your mind as you realized their purity had been stained, and no amount of cleansing would ever get it back. 

“Don’t worry, Jungkook. Your wife and I are going to be best friends.” His sister smiled as her hand curled around Jackson’s.

The two of you looked at one another momentarily, and in his eyes you saw a mutual message. 

“Please, help me.” 

~~~~~~~

You didn’t know how much more you could take, that was for sure. Everyone there was beyond messed up and sent your heart racing just at the sight of them. You were relieved when the crowd began to drain, leaving only a few people loitering around as the night dragged on. 

You had tackled so much in one day, but you knew there was still more to come. 

As the last people headed to their cars, Jungkook’s mother grabbed you by your hand and led you into the house, leaving Jungkook and his father and his two friends outside.

You stumbled after her in confusion, shaken up by the pace she had set. She led you back into what had originally been your room and shut the door tightly behind the two of you. She leaned against it with a gentle smile to her face, but you could see something else in her eyes. She was concerned. 

“I wanted to give you your wedding present here.” She said softly, crossing the room to the dresser pushed up against the wall. 

“I don’t need any presents.” You replied, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip in stress as you thought of what was to come. You knew you couldn’t hold Jungkook back any longer now that you had run out of excuses.

“I think you’ll need this one.” She said, her voice cracking as she slid her hand behind the dresser and pulled something free. She hid the gift behind her back in both hands as she made her way back to you in complete silence. 

Without a word, she raised your hand palm facing the ceiling and set a container in your hand. On sight you immediately recognized what it was. 

It was birth control. 

“What?” You whispered in pure shock, popping it open to make sure it actually was what it appeared to be. 

You raised your head and your eyes connected with hers. She wore no smile like you had seen her with so many times. Her face looked tired and her eyes were clearer than you had ever seen them before. For a moment, she seemed normal. She seemed to be just like you. No words passed between the two of you, all you needed was to see the expression you had witnessed twice earlier that day.

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, help me.”

And now, “I understand.”

The four of you were all the same, people who were suffering and couldn’t escape. She understood better than anyone what you were going through, and she wasn’t as broken as she had originally let on. Some of the original her was still there, a soft ember of a fire that had been snuffed out years ago.

No words passed between the two of you, none needed to be.

~~~~~~~

You heard Jungkook enter before you saw him, your back facing him as you were settled on the edge of the bed. You could feel the bed dip as he climbed on, crawling over to you until his arms could wrap around your waist and his chin could rest on your shoulder. You could smell the wine on his breath as he chuckled.

“Hello, Mrs. Jeon.” He mumbled, pressing his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder with a hum.

A chill ran down your spine at his words, they were foreign to you, they just didn’t seem right because you knew them to be false. He raised his head, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw and turn your head to face him. His fingers lightly stroked the skin of your cheek as he leaned in uncomfortably close. You could tell he was buzzed, a lazy smile stretching across his face as his eyes traced every curve and detail of your face. He looked positively enamored. 

Without any warning he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your own for a moment before pulling back for a breath and leaning in again, and again, and again. 

“I love you.” He whispered against the shape of your lips, his fingers gingerly stroking your cheek as his chest shook with each inhale. It seemed like he could never get used to the feeling of your lips, so warm, soft and wet. How could he not be intoxicated by you?

His tongue gently stroked your lower lip, a whine breaking free from his throat as you kept your lips together, refusing to let him in. Instead of growing frustrated, he let out a soft sigh and pressed another brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, laying a trail of kisses down your cheek and jaw before settling on your neck.

You clenched your jaw, your fingers twisting into his shirt as he began to leave hot, open mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of your neck, low groans bubbling in his chest from the mere taste of your skin. You could tell how needy he was from the way he harshly sucked purple bruises into your neck, his tongue swiping over each fresh mark with a sweet moan at the end. 

“Love you so, so, so much.” He whispered, his fingers trailing behind your back to pluck at the tiny pearl buttons holding your dress together. You tensed up, but you didn’t push him away. He didn’t stop his assault on your neck as you felt each button springing free, the front of your dress becoming looser and looser with each motion. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips at one particularly harder suck to your throat causing Jungkook to shudder against you as he heard your light cry. He pressed his forehead against your own for a moment, collecting himself while his hands still tried to unloop the back of your dress.

“I wanted you the moment I saw you walking towards me, you looked so perfect, so beautiful. Just like an angel.” He said, his voice shaking as his lips trembled. “I’ve been waiting all day to have you like this, and it was worth the wait.” 

His fingers trailed up the exposed skin of your back, goosebumps raising in their wake. He gently traced the lace of your straps before pulling them down, shimming the delicate fabric free from your torso. His breath caught in chest at the first sight of your bare breasts, the cut of the dress in the back being too low to allow you to wear a bra. 

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned, the tips of his fingers ever so lightly tracing the tops of your breasts. He was pacing himself for your sake, but it was becoming harder and harder for him to keep a hold of himself, especially with the ever present tightening of his pants at the back of his mind. 

He suddenly pressed his lips back to yours once again, this time more frantically and harder than before. His hands came up to your shoulders, pushing you back down into the mattress beneath you. He was breathing much heavier now, unwilling to part from your lips as he tried to roll the fabric of your dress down your hips without leaving you. 

He groaned in frustration against your mouth, pulling back to roughly pull the dress down your body and toss it over his shoulder into the recesses of the room. He sat on his knees, towering above you and staring down at you with a carnal look in his eyes. He hastily began removing his own shirt, his irritation growing as he struggled with each button in his haste.

With a final grunt, he pulled his shirt free and tossed it to join your discarded dress. You froze as your eyes trailed over his naked torso, your heart thundering as your eyes settled on his chest. A fresh clear wrap was sealed against his chest over his heart. You could feel your body tense up as you took in the new ink that had been etched into his skin. He had tattooed your name on his chest. 

Jungkook looked back at you in confusion, unsure as to what caused the look of pure fear to seep into the once passive and smooth features of your face. He followed your line of sight ending on the new piece he had.

 “Do you like it?” He suddenly smiled. 

“I got it as my gift to you. You’ll always be right here,” He said, interlacing your fingers once more and resting your joined hands on top of his heart. “I’ll always love you, my good girl.”

All you could do was clench your eyes shut, it was your only way of taking yourself out of this situation. You could feel his bare chest press against yours, his long fingers tracing over every curve of your body as he shook in excitement. How long he had waited for this moment. To have you in every way possible. 

“It’s alright, I know what to do.” He whispered as you jolted from the feeling of his hand grazing the hem of your underwear, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

You shuddered as he slid them down your legs, another article of clothing that was meant to join the floor. You were tensed up tight, your legs clenched shut in anxiety as you felt his gaze burn into every feature of your naked body. 

“So perfect,” He hummed, “So beautiful.” He cooed, resting his head on your chest as he rubbed slow circles in your thigh, each stroke sending him closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs. 

“Jungkook!” You cried as you felt him force your legs open in one strong pull. 

“Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” He replied before quickly reaching down and stroking the length of your untouched cored. You shrieked at the unfamiliar feeling, clamping your legs closed around his intruding hand. 

“Come on, baby.” He said, coaxing your legs open. “I need to get you ready.”

All you could do was lean your head back into the pillows, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your jaw as he continued, his fingers ever so lightly coming up to rub firm circles into your clit. You choked a moan back, thighs trembling as you tried your best not to snap them shut once more. 

“So good for me,” He cooed, sucking hickies into the hollow of your collar bone as he pressed his fingers down harder, your hips jerking instinctively up towards the pressure. “So pretty, my wife. Mine.”

He was unrelenting, his tight grip on you sure to reappear as bruises tomorrow morning. He didn’t allow you to hide your desperate whines or shocked gasps from him as he continued to pleasure you, the feeling sending tingles straight from your core all throughout your body. As much as you didn’t want to be with Junhkook, you could admit you were happy he at least knew what a clit was and made this a lot less horrible for you. 

You winced at the feeling of his finger gently prodding at your entrance, a thin layer of wetness coating his finger as he pushed in. You jerked and tensed your muscles at the foreign feeling, trying to pull back and away. 

“Relax. I need to stretch you out.” He said firmly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around one of your sensitive nipples, your tight walls relaxing at the new feeling. And, without warning, he slipped his finger in and began to stroke deep inside you, parts that your own fingers would not be capable of reaching. 

“Fuck!” You cried, tossing your head back as he quickly found that part that made you feel incredibly hot.

“That’s my good girl, fuck.” He groaned into your blushing skin as he thrusted his finger in, grazing that spot that made a new wave of wetness come gushing out. 

“Jungkook!” You groaned, your hand coming between the two of you to lay limply at his chest as you twitched in pleasure. 

He groaned in response, sucking the hardened peak of your chest harder as he continued pumping his fingers, slowly pressing in a second. You whine at the stretch, shaking as you felt his hips begin rutting against your leg, his mouth popping free from you as a needy whimper leaves his throat. 

“I need you so bad, baby.” He whined into your skin, choked groans shaking his chest as he quickened the pace of his hips against your leg and the pace of his fingers strumming against your walls. 

He easily, and embarrassingly, slid his fingers free from your heat, a string of your desire following his retreating digits. Without saying anything he quickly brought his fingers to his mouth and began to suck them clean with enthusiasm, his body shaking like he was in ecstasy just from the mere taste.  

“So fucking sweet.” He moaned, his hands frantically grasping the hem of his pants, shuffling them and his underwear down in one motion. 

You could feel the heat rising to your face at the sight of him, your eyes falling shut once more as your thighs fell closed. He was fucking huge and you didn’t think you could take him. That didn’t really matter now though, did it?

His hands slid down your hips, rubbing small circles in the hallows before he gripped each leg and forced them open and around his slender waist. You kept your eyes clenched shut as you felt him reach in between the two of you, the head of his length brushing against your slick entrance. You were tensing again, anxious for what was to come. You were sure it was going to hurt. You felt his hips push forward and the head of dick just barely slip in as you bared down in fear. 

A soft groan escaped him, his head dropping to your throat. “Baby, you gotta relax for me.”

You whined in response, your body still wound up tight. You could feel him sigh into your throat before his hand lightly caressed your leg and made its way back to your core, his fingers returning to rubbing those firm circles into your throbbing clit. Almost immediately, your walls began to flutter around nothing at the sensual touch, your lips parting as you trembled in pleasure.  And, before you knew it, he forced himself all the way in in one motion. A sharp cry left your mouth as you flung your arms around his neck, tears pricking in your eyes at the sudden flash of pain that invaded your senses. 

Jungkook was shaking above you, his eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy as he forced his hips to remain still. 

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard you could taste your own blood on your tongue. You groaned in discomfort, your cheeks feeling wet as a few tears escaped. You felt incredibly full, so full that it hurt. 

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open, and upon seeing the tears streaked down your face he quickly tried to calm you. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay.” He whispered, pressing kisses to each streak of tears. 

“Doing so well for me,” He cooed, his fingers quickly circling around your clit once more to work you through your discomfort with pleasure. “Such a good girl.”

As soon as he felt you begin to relax around him, your hips jerking up into his touch, he began to pull his hips back and slowly slide back in at a frustratingly slow pace. His jaw clenched as he kept himself under control, restraining himself from abandoning all restraint and just railing you like he wanted to.

But, once he felt your hips rolling up into his with that sweet whine of your voice he couldn’t help himself. Before you knew it, his hands were laced with your own and pinned down to the mattress, his pace quickening as higher, breathy moans left his chest, his lips leaving hot, wet, kisses to your neck before he rose his head and connected your lips again. 

You moaned into his mouth, surprising yourself at the sounds you were making. His tongue rolled over your lips and without restraint you parted your lips for him. A deep groan left his mouth as he curled his tongue against your own and pumped his length deep into you with a smooth pace. The only sounds filling the room were choked moans and the slap of skin against skin. 

You were already getting closer, the prepping he had done earlier bringing you to this point, the knot in your stomach tightening with each brush of the head of his dick against that spot deep inside you. Your legs tightened around his waist, your fingers gripping his own tightly as he filled you so good. Your walls were clamping down tightly around him, the feeling just far better than you had expected it to be. 

You could do this, you could use this to your advantage. 

One particularly hard thrust had you crying out against the wet, puffy flesh of his lips. You were sure tomorrow both of you would look like a wreck. Jungkook freed his hand from yours, returning to the soft bundle of nerves that begged for his touch. You cried out at the feeling of his length thrusting in and out of your wet core and his dexterous fingers rubbing firmly into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He rambled, snapping into you harder and harder as he felt your warm walls begin to tremble around him. You were going to cum, he could tell. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Show me how good I was, cum all over my cock for me like the good girl I know you are.” He panted into the shell of ear, pressing down harder and fucking into your pliant body faster than before, drawing sharp cries of pleasure from you that you couldn’t keep in any longer.

“Cum for me, please cum for me.” He was practically begging you, you could feel his length twitch inside of you. He was on the edge just like you were, but he wanted you to let go before he did. 

And you did. With a loud cry your back arched, pressing your chest up into his own as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Pleasure shot straight from your core and all throughout every nerve of your body, your walls fluttering helplessly around him. You could feel his thrusts become less paced and more frantic, his eyes clenched shut as he chased his release. And the feeling of you tightening so painfully around him was enough to do him in. With a loud moan he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, his hips working himself into you as he came in spurts, your body flinching at the unfamiliar feeling as you tried to catch your breath. 

He whined as he continued to come, filling you up with each pump of his cock. His hips were shuddering with each thrust until he finally fell limp against you. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He mumbled, pressing lazy, wet kisses to your already marked up skin. He still hadn’t removed himself from you and you twitched still from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You feel his cum and his cock still inside you, like he was trying to stop any of it from dripping out. 

“I love you, baby.”

~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next day you were incredibly sore and wrapped up in Jungkook’s embrace. You were sweating, you noticed. Even in his sleep his grip was unrelenting, strong, and inescapable. 

You had hoped after the wedding his parent’s would have finally left, but that was far from the truth. They were still there, and each week you waited for them to come and tell you and Jungkook that they were ready to go home. You wanted them to leave, but another part of you was still deeply worried for his mother. Her behavior had returned to what you knew, she smiled often, she gushed over her husband, and she coddled her son. There was no sight of the woman you had seen the night of your wedding. 

The only reminder you had of your encounter, was the birth control stashed safely behind the dresser in the room that was never used. You snuck in there every day at the same time to take them in secret.

When your period came a few short weeks after your wedding, Jungkook was visibly upset. He didn’t say anything but you knew what he was thinking. He was hoping the various times you had sex between the wedding and your period would have you fall pregnant. He pouted about it, but simply remarked that the two of you would have to try more. He took care of you, bringing you chocolate snacks, heating pads, and plenty of cuddling. Although you never asked for that last part.

You thought you were going to be safe, that this was the one thing you could get away with this time. It only took a few weeks for everything to fall apart.

You were in the shower when the shouting started. You paused for a moment, tilting your head in the direction of the bathroom door. It was a male who was shouting, but over the sound of the water you couldn’t tell who it was. It was the loud shattering that spurred you into action. In seconds you turned the water off and frantically dried your body, throwing on a hoodie and some sweatpants. 

You swung the door open and walked and quietly as you could down the hallway. The yelling was coming from the kitchen. You pressed yourself against the wall and peered into the room.

It was Jungkook’s father screaming at his mother. It looked like she had been making dinner, various pots settled on the stove as well as a kettle. There were ceramic shards littering the floor, you could only assume a plate had been thrown. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, you are the only person in this house who could have done this!” He screamed, slamming down a container onto the counter causing his wife to flinch back in fear. 

It was your birth control. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out? It was a little strange that she was going in there every day at the same time wasn’t it?” He asked, his voice deathly calm. His wife didn’t respond, her gaze pinned to the floor. 

“Fucking answer me!” He screamed, whipping another plate at the wall right beside her head and shattering it into pieces. 

“It was strange.” She echoed, her eyes glazing over. 

“Don’t play games with me, I know damn well she didn’t get them, Jungkook didn’t, and neither did I. If you want your punishment to be easier than tell me the goddamn truth right now.” He snapped.

She was already gone, her mind somewhere else as he screamed at her. You couldn’t stop the torrent of tears from rushing down your face as you witnessed her shutting herself off. Years of toture had made her good at dissociating.

The first hit is what broke you. Without thinking you ran right in between the two of them, wrapping your arms around her as the two of you fell to the ground, cries of pain bursting from your mouth at each hit you endured. He was ruthless, his anger quickly being directed at you. Each punch and kick to your body bringing new blossoms of pain. You stayed firm, your body wrapping around hers to stop the torrent of attacks from reaching her. You could do it for her. 

You felt fingers weave into your hair, pulling you sharply to the ground and causing you to cry out. You struggled as he began to drag you away from Jungkook’s mother by your wet tresses, he was heading to the deck. You had no doubt in your mind he was going to take you outside, torture you, murder you, and dipose of you. 

“Jungkook!” You screamed, thrashing around desperately. “Jungkook! Help!”

You never called out to him for help, never. And that was why he came so quickly. The minute he entered the kitchen his demeanor completely flipped. His eyes settled on his mother, her body laid limp to the floor as she gazed off into nothing. And then he found you, your body being dragged and his father's hand knotted in your hair with marks littering your face. He suddenly reminded you of the Jungkook that took you the first night. His eyes were pitch black and the anger was bubbling just under the surface. 

Your head fell as his father released your hair and you quickly began to scoot back and away from him. You settled yourself in the corner, lifted Jungkook’s mother into your embrace and held her tight. 

As soon as the two of you were safe, he snapped. He grabbed his father by the neck and threw him to the ground, the two of them devolving into a writhing mass of punches and kicks. You could see instantly that Jungkook was going to win, there were no doubts in your mind about that. He had his father pinned quickly and was beating the ever loving shit out of him.

“How fucking dare you!” He was yelling, his face red as he repeatedly laid into him, each hit becoming more brutal than the one before. “How dare you hit my wife! My mother! Fuck you!” He screamed, letting out every ounce of rage he had been holding in. 

You could hear the kettle begin to whistle in the background, the pitch slowly rising as your pulse thrummed strongly. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the sight before you, you didn’t know if Jungkook was going to be able to calm down. He was enraged. 

His father was laying still underneath him, his face bloodied and the only sign of him being alive the rise and fall of his chest. Jungkook finally stopped, sniffing as he rolled off of his father, his knuckles split and covered in blood. But he had stopped far too soon. His father suddenly lurched, dragging him to the ground and wrapping his hands tightly around his son’s throat. 

You watched in shock, Jungkook’s body squirming as he tried to escape, his eyes darting around to try and find you. And, for some reason you don’t exactly know, you reached onto the counter, wrapped your fingers around a knife and slid it across the floor into his waiting hand.  

You snapped your eyes shut as you began to hear the loud grunts of pain from his father each time the knife struck his body. You held Jungkook’s mother close, your hands covering her eyes so there would be no chance of her seeing. The kettle was whistling painfully loud, your heart beating violently as you listened to what was happening. 

And soon, silence fell over the room. You opened your eyes and watched as Jungkook pushed the lifeless corpse of his father to the floor. He rolled over and looked at you, his face, neck, and hands coated in thick, wet, blood. He was shaking as he came down from his adrenaline high. He dropped the knife from his grip, tears suddenly pouring from his doe eyes as he crawled across the floor to you and his mother. 

Loud, pained sobs wracked his chest as he threw himself at you, crying into your neck as he held you tightly.The scent of blood was thick in the air, the sticky, crimson fluid staining your skin as he gripped you tightly to him. He was inconsolable, sobbing like a child as he refused to let you move. 

There was a corpse in the room, copious amounts of blood, Jungkook, you, and his mother. 

You raised your hand and gently began to stroke his hair, curling your arms around his shaking, blood soaked body. You lightly pressed a kiss to the top of his head in an attempt to soothe him, rocking him back and forth. 

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It’s okay.”

[gotnofucks]

Prometheus

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: You disappoint August and must make up for it.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut, dom/sub themes, language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: This is my entry for the Happy Hoelidays Challenge by @donutloverxo @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 . You guys are all fucking amazing and I adore you! I chose the prompt “Kissing under the mistletoe” but with a twist. And honestly, this whole fic is a mess. But I hope you’ll find something worthwhile here.

Masterlist

Our love story will not be found in romance books. People like him and I, we don’t exist in rose tinted pages with flowery scents. We are found within the darker pages of horror books, where our love is written with blood and pain, where it’s ghastly stunning in its dangerous beauty. But I promise you, it’s no less beautiful than the walks in a meadow or cuddles in the bed.

We bleed and cry, from eyes and heart. We drown each other deep and deeper still, only to pull back above the surface as we’re about to die. That gulp of air, that’s sweeter than any other, if simply because it’s the one that has us clinging to life.

I like to think that I am Prometheus, and he is my Eagle, sent by the gods to devour me day after day, letting me writhe under him. It’s pain beyond anything, but what most don’t understand is that I need that pain to feel alive. But what if one day Prometheus was left hanging alone, liver intact and no eagle to eat him out?

That would be torture.

I am being tortured.

The whip in his hand cracked on skin and I choked on a sob. The sharp swish of the whip parted the air again and crashed on the skin with precise intervals, creating a crisscross of welts like a painter does his design. The blue in his eyes was clouded by the deep, boiling waves of anger and disappointment.

I could take his anger, but never his disappointment.

His anger meant punishment, it meant retribution. His disappointment meant distance, it meant betrayal. And here I was, Prometheus who disappointed his eagle and now watched that beak bite on someone else’s liver.

She took his hits gracefully, only small whimpers escaping her as his whip landed on her bottom. They left marks on her skin, but they seared my heart. People say nothing hurts more than being punished this brutally. They know nothing. Nothing of the pain of watching someone else take your pain, your punishment. People don’t know the torture of being tied down and being made to watch your master pour his anger into someone else.

I closed my eyes at the scene, incapable of watching more. It was more than my heart could take. I had promised to take his love and his hate, his sweetness and his poison. And to have someone else cry under him, wear marks on her body that should have decorated me left me more broken than any of his toys would have done.

“Please sir” I begged, “No more.”

His eyes were on me the entire time, even as he had someone else at his mercy. He cocked his head to the side, looking at me naked and tied up, balancing on my knees. He came closer and lifted his booted leg to part my thighs with it, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Melly, leave.” He ordered the other girl. She swiftly got up and left without a word, just happy to be of service when required. I raised my eyes to his, pleading, begging. His large hand traced the curve of my cheek before dropping to the collar on my neck, playing with the charm that dangled on the front.

AW’s Princess

“I should take this away” August said, and I jerked as if I had been electrocuted. I shook my head, hair falling away from the elastic that secured them. He couldn’t take away my collar. No, he simply couldn’t.

“Please, no sir. I am sorry.” I sobbed.

To me, this collar was a symbol of ownership. Of being claimed by August Walker, being his. I would never trade this for a wedding ring, for this was more sacred to me. It sat on my neck, over my pulse, beating with the blood that pumped under it and reminded me that every breath I take belongs to him. That I chose to surrender my life living at his feet.

“What are you sorry about, Princess?” He asked me. Before I could answer, he was walking away to pull from his drawer a bowl and his trusted vibrator, and the sight of it made my thighs tremble.

“I am sorry for lying to you sir.” I replied. He hummed, coming to kneel before me, placing the bowl between my parted thighs and opening me wide with two fingers. I gasped, mouth parted as he touched me most intimately, his fingers that easily pulled the trigger of a gun running gently along my spongy walls to create an explosion no less than a gun shot.

He followed every pant that fell from my mouth, observed every twitch that showed on my face and drank in the fluttering of my lashes. Whenever I would turn my face he would tut, forcing me to look at him.

“How did it feel when I hit Melly instead of you?” He asked me, and slowly started to insert the vibrator inside me. I sucked in a breath, wincing at the stretch before answering.

“It hurt sir, it hurt so much.” I whimpered, tears shining in my eyes before dropping to my cheeks.

August leans back once the vibrator is completely in me, my juices dripping out from around it. Cupping my face gently, he brushed a soft kiss on my forehead, like the brush of angel wings and the slightest nip of Death’s scythe at once.

“You hurt me too.” He whispered. The darkness in his eyes had me shivering, both from fear and arousal. Being with August felt like standing on a cliff, every moment terrified that a strong gust of wind would have me pummeling to the ground. But when one wants to fly, even falling becomes a kink. How long does the fall last, and when you do hit the ground, how good does it hurt?

It hurts like heaven.

“You will fill this bowl with your cream” He ordered, “You will drip into it, and as you do, you’ll tell me where you went wrong. Apologize to me like you mean it, give me a reason to have you at my feet.”

He started unbuttoning himself and with every new inch of him revealed to my hungry eyes, I dripped. I clenched around the vibrating toy inside me, moaning softly. This is how completely he owned me. The eagle was going away, and it was up to Prometheus to seduce him to come back, to convince him to eat that liver one more time, that the taste it worth it.

“I am sorry sir, I lied to you. I didn’t tell you where I was going.” I started. He continued undressing, languidly tossing aside his clothes to unveil the scarred flesh underneath. I could tell every battle he’d ever fought by tracing the hardened marks over his body. Sometimes when he would let me, I’d trace the scars of his heart too, feeling the hurt and loss that lingered in their ridges.

“Where did you tell me you were going, Princess?” He asked me, sitting naked in front of me on a chair. Easy, confident.

“To the movies with my friends.” I lowered my eyes, ashamed of myself for lying to a man who can see through anyone and anything.

“And where did you actually go?”

I bit my lip, knowing I had disappointed him. He required nothing from me but trust and honesty.

“To see my family.” I whispered.

He shook his head, a sneer curling under his mustache. His gaze bore into me with a force that had me gushing in the bowl and he scoffed. The control he had on my body without even touching it was almost embarrassing. He got up to stand in front of me, his hard length so near to my face if I poke my tongue out, I’d be able to lick him.

“Your family” He spat the word like it was poison. “Why don’t I like it when you go meet with them Princess?”

“Because only you’re allowed to hurt me sir.” I answered.

August was not a nice man, he was not someone you mess with. He got off on pain and terror, on instigating fear in those around him. But when it came to me, only he is allowed to hurt me. He will whip me and spank me, tie me and choke me, but woe betide anyone who so much as hurt a hair on my head. Which is why I didn’t tell him I was meeting my family.

Every meeting with them came out the same way. Me in tears after a shouting match. For someone who had never managed to quite fit in anywhere, my only solace was August’s arms. And those arms would pound anyone to pulp if I cried tears that were put in my eyes by anyone but him. Fucked up? Maybe.

“Why did you go?” He asked, brushing the tip of his cock on my face, smearing his cum and marking me. The natural musk of him filled my nose and I leaned forward to have a taste when he moved away, wagging a finger in warning.

“It was Christmas.” I pathetically said.

August smirks, his eyes falling on the bowl between my legs that had collected my slick. He exhaled, kneeling before me and pulling out the vibrator with a pop, instead replacing it with his fingers that had me struggling in my restraints.

“And you thought I wouldn’t celebrate Christmas with you?” He asked me and flicked his fingers on my hardened nub that had me cumming into the bowl. His name was like a chant on my lips and I begged him to set me free, to hold me again.

He took away the bowl and put it on the bedside table, coming back to finally release me from the ropes that bound me. Carefully picking me, he dropped me on the bed and smirked nastily.

“I even got us mistletoe. I was going to hang it on the door and surprise you with it, but since you’ve chosen to be a bitch today, I’ve found another place for it.” Saying this he pulled out a bundle of mistletoe and held it over his cock, looking expectantly at me.

“W-what?” I sputtered.

“You’re supposed to kiss it sweetheart” He mocked and came closer, slapping me across the face with his dick. I blinked at him before licking my lips and taking him in my mouth. His familiar taste and thickness made me feel at home, and I sucked and slurped, trying to show him how sorry I truly was.

His hand tangled in my hair and pulled me along, bobbing me up and down his length, one hand still dangling the mistletoe over my head. I relaxed my body, letting him guide me as he wanted. My love was my apology, and this was my repentance.

“I had planned a fun night with you” He snarked, sitting deep inside my throat, “I got you a fucking tree and presents. Thought we’d watch a movie. But all that romantic bullshit doesn’t work for us, does it?”

His pace increased as did my moans. I held onto his thick thighs that had more than once choked me. He may have all the power over me, but I reveled in that just the same.

“We don’t make love beside the fireplace darling, we burn ourselves in the fireplace, surrounded by the flames of passion and lust that run in you and me.”

His words heated me up and I doubled my efforts, taking him deeper and looking into his eyes, letting him speak to my soul as he owned my body. He tensed and twitched, warmth pooling in my mouth and down my throat and I smiled when he pulled away. My jaw ached a little, but pain was an old friend.

“That was quite a kiss” I said, and he chuckled, pushing me down to lie on my back.

“It’s not over by a long shot.” He said and taking the bowl with my cum he dripped my essence over my bare chest and belly. My skin broke out into gooseflesh as the cold liquid hit me but just as soon it was followed by the warmth of his tongue, sucking me, tasting me.

This is what being worshiped felt like. In chains and in pain, and yet the object of desire and love. When one slap meets your cheek, the following caress feels just that much softer.

August rolled on his back, smearing the rest of my cum over his own chest. I leaned over him, tongue gliding through his hair and veins, dipping into deep scars and damaged tissues. His voice rose in a crescendo, cock hardening again and as I licked, I climbed over him, aligning myself and bringing him home with one thrust.

“Fuck” He whispered, mouth meeting mine in a kiss, sinful and dirty. He kissed me like the Angel of Death serving me the elixir of life. I bounced on him, rode him like he was the stairwell that would take me to heaven. His smell, his taste, the feeling of his rippling flesh and the dominance in his eyes set fire to my veins. I clamped hard on him, sliding my damp body over his as I crashed and fell apart.

His hips kept pushing up, going hard enough as if trying to come out of the other end. Nails dug into the flesh of my thighs as he kept me steady over him, pumping into me until I felt him release inside. We fell into a tangle of limbs, a sheet lazily pulled over my bruised body. That was the thing with August, when he hurt me it left a mark on the outside, but never inside.

“I love you” He softly panted in the crook of my neck. I turned over and clung to him, pulling him close in my embrace. Prometheus needed his Eagle to feel alive, and the Eagle needed Prometheus to sustain. Neither is complete without the other.

“I love you too”

 Permanent Tags: @what-is-your-wish​ @shooting-star-love​ @stanmysoul​ @sweeterthanthis​ @muralskins​ @rayofdawnworld​ @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ @donutloverxo​ @angrythingstarlight​ @rockyrogers​ @slothspaghettiwrites​ @nerdygirl8203​ @firebolt99 

Henry : @agniavateira​

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Pickett

*bangs spoon on pot* NEW OC NEW OC i can't be tamed

CW: Magical whumpee, branding/scarification, burning, scalding metal, Whumper as caretaker, ... nice? whumper, implied nudity for a second, restraints.

(Pickett can transform into a marten but will never be whumped as an animal.)

The magician smiled as he walked through the market, taking in the sights of the bustling coastside Town. There were stands and carts, open shops and peddlers selling their wares. He could see the docks from the stone streets, could smell the foul salt in the air.

This was the last stop before the wild, before the world opened to those brave - or stupid - enough to explore it. It was a place of last chances, of hastily made decisions and half-thought through plans. Just like all the others, he was there to make his name.

One such salesman waved him over, encouraging him to spend his coins for the compasses and maps that could guide him to riches and fame. He waved him off, continuing on his walk. A girl offered him a handheld loaf of fresh bread, but he waved that off as well. The little creature sitting on his shoulder lifted it’s head to see, slowly following the girl with it’s blue eyes as the Magician kept walking. He smiled and scratched under its chin, more than happy to stop at another stand and buy the little furry thing some fruit as a treat.

~~

The moment the door was closed and bolted behind them, the creature jumped down from its perch around the man’s shoulders to the floor. He turned to busy himself with his organization, putting away his hat and bag with a dim blue light glowing behind him. When Errold turned, he threw the boy that had appeared in a wam brown robe.

Pickett wrapped it around himself quickly, hissing in a breath. His wrists - his wrists ached fiercely. Everything hurt, a dull pain that settled along his spine and across his hips. He had spent too long in his animal form, too long with bones and muscle and sinew out of alignment. He leaned side to side, trying to stretch out as quietly as he could. Something popped and his breathing hitched.

“Pickett? Are you okay?”

“Oh! No, I’m-I’m-I’m okay,” he said quickly, smiling up at Errold. He didn’t want him to know, didn’t want him to catch on. If he did, he might try and fix it and he, he couldn’t handle that right now.

Errold looked down at him, brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

Pickett nodded a little too quickly, and winced. Errold raised a brow.

“I’m, it’s- I’m a little sore,” he finally admitted, pulling the robe closed tighter. He looked up apologetically to see the magician’s concerned face. “But I’m okay! It was just a long time.”

Errold hummed, walking over to the dreaded bookcase. “Not all that long, Pic. Let me see what I can do.”

“No!” Pickett tried to stand, to reach out a hand to stop the man, but his legs couldn’t hold him up and he fell forward. He hit his nose on the way down, and even though it didn’t hurt much, there was still blood on his hand when he drew it away. The Magician tutted and went down to his knees.

“Look at you, making a mess of yourself,” he muttered, examining the boy’s face. For some reason, Pickett shivered under his gaze.

“What, what, what if I, what if I just walked-” the man sighed loudly, interrupting him. Pickett cowered further into himself, avoiding eye contact. He knew he wasn’t supposed to ask, but what danger could they really be in here?

“Pic, you know better than to ask that. Again,” Errold muttered, picking up the boy and depositing him onto the low table. “You know why, you must still remember how dangerous it is out there for people like us. They’d lock me up, take you away from me.” He paused, lifting his chin gently until they finally met eyes.

“You don’t want that, now do you?”

Pickett blinked up at him and took a deep breath before he shook his head. No, no he didn’t want that. Errold laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back flat against the wood. As the man walked around, back to his book and supplies, Pickett’s heart was slowly starting to race. While he was distracted by his own fear, a hand slipped under the boy’s shirt near his stomach.

Errold cried out, jerking his hand back and shaking it to get rid of the spark of pain. Pickett sat up on his elbows, eyes wide. The older man glared at him, hand smoking faintly.

“Wait, wait wait wait, I can explain! I can!” Pickett tried, crawling backwards off the table. Errold didn’t bother to respond, striding forward and pinning him down. The boy squirmed and wiggled, but was no match in his exhausted state. Soon enough there were long strips of linen securing his wrists and ankles to the table legs, two more going over his collar bone and hips.

Gruffly and annoyed, Errold wrenched up his shirt to examine the intricate lines of gold that covered his body. Pickett tried to interrupt, to distract him, but was shushed harshly. With a sigh, the man ran his fingers along one line that had been scratched and inched and the gold picked out of the scar. He gave Pickett a disappointed side-eye.

“Pickett-”

“I’m sorry!” Pickett cried out, eyes glossy but no tears spilling out yet. “I’m sorry! I am! But, but it itched and, and Errold please it felt better when I took the rune out. I can control it this time, I really can. I know I can!”

Errold leaned down and cupped the boy’s face in both hands. Poor thing was shaking, scared of what was going to happen. He hated to see him this way, hated that this was really the best way to apply the runes.

“I know, I know Pic - and I’m sorry, Sweetheart. But you can’t just claw them out. They’re there for a reason, and you need to respect that. I know you don’t want to, but I have to put them back. Shh, don’t cry, Shh I know, I know it hurts. But you need them, Pickett.”

He brushed his hand down the boy’s dark hair, looking into light eyes as the tears spilled over and down his cheeks. Poor thing. Pickett shut his eyes and laid back against the wood, trying hard to stifle his crying. Errold was right, he was always right. But it would be okay, he could do it. He had survived the other hours upon hours it took to bind the rest of his body, he could make it through re-placing a few lines on his side.

And whatever other ones Errold would add.

When the muzzle was placed against his mouth, he didn’t buck or try to fight it. Honestly, it was almost welcome. The process hurt, and others would be disturbed by his cries of pain. Errold pet his hair back one last time with an affectionate look before he lifted the boy’s shirt all the way and went to light the small fire.

The rods of gold were long and thin, small as a delicate sprig from a rosebush. They were expensive and shined even in the leather pouch Errold kept them in. It had to be a good quality gold, one that was pure enough to handle the weight of the magic. As harmless as they were in this form, Pickett still shivered when he heard them clink together.

Errold used a bit of dusty chalk to paint the correct lines across his skin as he waited for the fire to build. This part never hurt, but the sensation of it still made his heart race. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to wait.

The magician could see how hard the boy was trying for him, and he smiled sadly. Poor thing, but it really did try and be good for him. He would of course care for it afterwards, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. Donning thick gloves, Errold picked up a rod of gold and placed it in a specially crafted pipe. He’d had to make all these tools himself, designing them to work for what he needed. This pipe would not only help him melt the gold, but also apply it in even lines.

When it was ready, he returned to the boy bound to the table. He laid a hand on Pickett’s stomach in sympathy, then began his work.

Pickett cried out the first moment the molten liquid touched his skin, back arching and struggling in his restraints. It was beyond painful, beyond words he knew to describe it. It was burning through him, searing away paths and lines to cool in his skin. He sobbed into the muzzle, tears streaming down both sides of his temple. Every line, every dash burrowed farther into his skin. The pain built and built, with no regard to how much he could withstand. It didn’t care. It had no stake in how hard his heart pounding in his chest or how his lungs heaved for air. He just had to get through it, had to survive it.

He curled his hands into fists until he could feel the bite of his nails.

Errold hushed him softly, focused on following his chalk outline. His heart ached lightly, but only lightly. Pickett knew better than to dig the runes out. Any pain from the re-working of that was his own fault. Errold was doing this for his own good, he understood that. Pickett needed these, and Errold needed them.

It was mutually beneficial, he told himself.

Right as he was on the cusp of passing out, Errold pulled the pipe away to show he was finished. The new lines of gold over the boy’s dark skin were practically still glowing red, not yet having cooled down enough to shine their signature color. The magician didn’t dare touch them, just laid a damp cloth over the area.

Pickett whined loudly at the feeling, still heaving for breath. He could barely tell if his eyes were open at this point, just feeling like the world was distant from him. A hand touched his face to remove the muzzle but he couldn’t muster the strength to respond.

“Shh, shh Pic, you’re alright. Here,” Errold started, lifting him bodily from the table. Pickett whimpered, totally unaware that he had been untied. He was gently placed in his hammock, gratefully on his unhurt side, and left there as the magician tidied the rest of the room. The boy got his eyes open a few times, but the world was still blurry. He huffed through his nose and rubbed his face against the fabric, itching at the tear tracks across his face.

“Alright then,” Errold’s voice came and Pickett raised his head up. The man gathered him back out of the hammock and laid him on the bed. With just the back of his hand to the boy’s forehead he could tell he was already getting the fever, so he laid a damp cloth across it. The other wounds were still too tender to apply anything too strong, so he just used a general salve.

Pickett remained mostly quiet through the rest of the bandaging, simply letting it happen. He was a little more aware, however, when the magician wrapped his unharmed hands in bandages as well.

“To keep you from messing with them, Pickett,” Errold chided at the boy’s confused sound. Picket hadn’t done it much, but it would have to be something he would have to keep an eye on now. Perhaps he would pick up some mitts somewhere.

By the time he was done, Pickett’s fever was raging and he had to replace the cloth. He then returned him to the hammock to rest while he turned to his real work.

A request for a spirit guide had just come in, and it was an offer Errold had no desire to resist.

~

Tagging @yet-another-heathen cause this idea actually came from a convo with them!

[lovely-angst]

Ok so may I request a part two of "walk me to the bus stop" where bakugou and his s/o are older now, and he's in like his 3rd year at UA, and he just happens to be at the bus stop late at night and hears shouting and runs over to see his s/o struggling to get away from those same men in suits, and he rescues her again and they're just like long time no see? and bakugou proceeds to walk s/o home as the men in suits get whisked away by the police <3 so swoony uwu

changed the ending juuuust a tad bit, but i hope it’s just as good ;^)

pt 1 here!

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

01.15.21

-

“Are you sure you don’t want us to wait with you at the bus stop?” your friends ask, but you shook your head politely. “Thanks for asking, but I’ll be fine. It’s getting late and I know they’re about to do last calls for buses and trains, I wouldn’t want you to miss them,” you explain as your friends give you smalls smiles.

“If you say so. Text me when you get home then, okay?” she says as you give her a nod before turning around to make your way to the bus stop.

Walking down the empty street lit by the dim street lights, you tried not to think about all of the horrible situations that could happen, it would only keep you paranoid.

Plus, your boyfriend taught you a few moves of self defense if you’re ever in a predicament, you were prepared for anything!

Sighing, you continue to walk down before turning into another street, eyes slightly widening when you notice two men in suits standing off to the side of road.

“They’re probably just businessmen (Name), stop over thinking things,” you told yourself as you walked passed the men, keeping your head down. Once you had gotten passed them, you let out a relieved sigh, “just business men,” you whisper to yourself, relaxing a bit.

It wasn’t until you continued walking for a couple minutes that you heard footsteps behind you. You tried not to think too hard about it, maybe someone was just taking the same path as you.

Your hand gripped your bag tightly before you cautiously looked over your shoulder, only to find those two men following you.

It was happening again.

Quickly turning back, you tried to maintain a normal speed to not seem suspicious, but when you thought they weren’t suspecting anything, you ran for it.

Your heart raced as you tried to reach the bus stop. It would be the main road, there would be people there to save you, heroes there to save you!

You felt your eyes gloss over as you tried to outrun these men, but even you could tell they were catching up and catching up fast. “One more street and I’ll make it!”

Just as you were about to turn the corner to your bus stop, two more men popped out and blocked your path, sealing you from escaping.

You turned every which way to find a way to escape but they were slowly inching closer. Swinging your bag, you tried to attack but it backfired when they grabbed on, pulling you in and pining your hands together as a car pulled up on the side of the road.

Before they could stuff you in the vehicle, you let out a yell.

-

“Hurry up, Bakugou! We’re on a time crunch here!” Kirishima cries as he tries to remind his grumpy buddy that Aizawa had given them only an hour to grab whatever they needed from the convenience store before heading back to the dorms for the night.

“Thanks for tagging along, Kacchan!” Midoriya says but Bakugou could only scoff, “I can’t believe you two losers dragged me along,” he complained, following the two boys.

“You’ve been kinda tense lately, I thought maybe being outside of UA could help you a bit,” Kirishima confesses with a toothy smile, causing Bakugou to frown.

“I’ll just wait out here for you idiots. Better make it a fast trip,” Bakugou says as the three finally made it to the convinience store. “Okay!” Midoriya and Kirishima quickly head in, the sliding doors closing behind them leaving Bakugou alone.

Though Bakugou hated running errands, Kirishima was right—being outside of UA was nice. There were normal citizens walking about and for some reason the air felt and smelled different.

He wished he could enjoy a night out like this with you. Running to some convenience store to buy snacks because you were hungry before the two of you would walk through the quiet town together.

Glancing through the glass doors, Bakugou noticed that Midoriya and Kirishima were still busy deciding on what brand to get.

A small walk wouldn’t hurt.

He knew that the bus stop the two of you always waited at was nearby, maybe he could take a quick picture and send it your way. He could already imagine all of the texts you would reply with.

‘I can’t believe you’re allowed out and i’m not there!’

‘Message me as soon as you can next time! Even if it’s just for five minutes, I want to see you!’

Just the thought of it made him smile. Just as he approached the bus stop, he heard a faint yell, “help!”

Like the snap of a finger, all the gears in Bakugou’s brain began turning as he quickly set off to find the source of the distressed cry, someone needed his help.

It didn’t take long before Bakugou found four men trying to force a girl into a car as she continued to resist. 

Using his explosions, Bakugou propelled himself forward before grabbing one of the men by the collar of his shirt, slamming him onto the hard ground beneath them before raising his arm towards another, letting out an explosion in the man’s face.

With the two in the back down, the young lady was able to turn her head around towards him, their eyes meeting. “Katsuki!”

Before Bakugou could cause unleash another attack, they quickly shoved you in the car before one of the men turned and brought their hand up towards Bakugou’s face, and unleashed their quirk as a flash of bright light filled the scene.

Just as the light slowly disapeared, the car had driven off with you in it.

“Kacchan!” “Bakugou! What happened to waiting outside the store?” Kirishima scolded as the two ran over to the blond, “We saw that bright flash of light and decided to come check it out.”

Bakugou cursed, “That damn light caught me off guard. They took (Name), hurry before they get too far!” he shouted as he began propelling himself in the air to catch sight of the car.

Bakugou wasn’t sure if the two followed behind, but he could careless. His girlfriend had just gotten kidnapped in front of his face and he wasn’t going to let them get away with it.

Meanwhile, you were continuously trying to pry yourself away from the men who sat beside you. Your hands were tied together in front of you as you scanned the car with your eyes.

It didn’t seem like they had any guns on them thankfully, but you weren’t sure how you could manage to even attempt to escape. It didn’t matter though, you were going to do whatever it took.

Violently shaking yourself to try to loosen the fabric around your wrists, you would purposefully shove the two men beside you to get a rise out of them, and it worked.

“Hey, knock it off before I-” before he could finish his sentence, you roughly swung your fists into his face before swinging your head to headbutt the other man, causing them to curl in pain.

While they were distracted from the sudden attack, you reached over and unlocked the car door before swinging it open and throwing yourself out of the vehicle, rolling onto the hard ground with a few rough scrapes.

As you tried to regain your focus after the tumble, you could hear the voices of the men and their quick footsteps as they ran over to you.

You were so close.

Just as you turned your head and flinched from the men, Bakugou suddenly dropped down in front of you with his arms raised, “Watch out, (Name)”

Releasing a large blast that shook the ground, the men were finally all down and unconscious. 

“Sorry we’re late Kacchan!” Midoriya exclaimed as he jerked his head behind him at Kirishima who was riding Midoriya’s back. “Ha, can’t exactly get here as fast as the two of you, so Midoriya here offered to give me a ride.”

“Just go apprehend those guys,” Bakugou said, rolling his eyes as the two nodded, running over towards the unconscious men.

With a sigh, Bakugou finally turned around to face you who was still on the ground exhausted. Bending down to your level, he couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his face before he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

“I can’t ever leave you alone, can I?” he says softly and you can only rest your face against his palm. “You’re always getting into trouble.”

“You’ll always be there to save me though,” you say with a small smile. And though Bakugou knows that won’t always be the case, he can only hope that he’ll be able to be there when you are in trouble.

“Can you sit here for me for a bit? Got some hero work I need to finish,” he explains, nodding his head over towards his two classmates. “Of course,” you reply as you rest yourself against the back of a building.

Bakugou smiles, quickly pressing a kiss to your forehead before catching up with Midoriya and Kirishima.

-

The cops were called to take the men away and Aizawa was called to the scene to retrieve his three students—thankfully Aizawa was understanding about the situation and wasn’t terribly upset that they had missed been out for longer than an hour.

Bakugou knew that he had to go back to UA, but he couldn’t leave you alone right now after everything you’ve just been through.

“I understand that I’m pushing my limits here, but would it be alright for me to wait with (Name) until her parents get here?” Aizawa stared down at the blond before shifting his eyes to you, who looked a bit distraught, understandably though.

He would hate to be the cause any unnecessary danger trouble to his students, but it wouldn’t hurt this one time. Especially if it was Bakugou, one of the top students. “Come back as soon as they get here,”

“I will, thank you,” Bakugou states before jogging over to you, pulling you in for a hug.

Aizawa hated being soft with his students, but growing with them for the past few years, he just couldn’t help it.

As the scene died down and the cops were slowly dispersing from the scene, you and Bakugou sat quietly on a bench together fooling around as you waited for your parents to arrive.

“Give me your bag,” Bakugou says firmly causding you to hold your bag close and away from him, “Why do you want it so bad, huh?” you accuse as Bakugou leans forward to try to pry the bag from you.

“Just give it to me!” “No!”

Your giggles fill the air as he begins to lightly tickle your sides, successfully retrieving the bag from you as you gave him a pout from between your laughter. “What are you looking for?” you asked as he begins to rummage through your items.

“Nothing,” he curtly replies before pulling out your small first aid kit, “Come here, you scraped yourself a bit jumping out of that car didn’t you?”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at yourself, finally noticing and feeling the scrapes against your once smooth skin. “You’re so careless,” he says gently as he rips open the small packet of alcohol wipe.

His large calloused hands gently rub the wipe against your injuries as gently as he could before rubbing ointment on the clean wound.

His soft blond hair obstructing you from seeing his handsome features as he was treating you like glass. It was odd seeing such a different side of him, but you welcomed it with open arms.

“I cleaned it good, so don’t go crashing into things to cause more injuries,” Bakugou states organizing the first aid kit. You reached over and placed your hand over his before turning his hand around, letting his palm face up.

“Didn’t you hurt your hands today too?” you ask as you glanced down, your free hand gliding across his palm as light as a feather, trying not to irritate any injuries he might have.

“You were using your quirk a lot without your gauntlets,” bringing his palm up, you planted a soft kiss to it, “it must have hurt, I’m sorry.”

Quickly releasing his hand, you reach into your bag to pull out an ice pack that was mostly melted before placing it in his hand, “it’s not cold anymore, but I hope it’ll soothe your hands enough.”

The smile you gave him reminded him about how much he wanted to protect you from this world full of evil things. You are so precious to him. He was thankful the stars aligned for him to have been able to save you today.

“Oh, that’s my parent’s car!” you say standing up and grabbing your bag, Bakugou standing up beside you. “See you soon?” you asked, glancing up at him as he gave you a small smile.

“See you soon,” he repeats as your cheeky smiled widened, leaning up to press a kiss onto his lips. “Thank you for saving me today again, Katsuki,” you whisper, pulling away from him before entering the car.

Giving him a small wave goodbye, Bakugou watches as the car drives off into the distance before he turns around and makes his way back to UA.

It was quiet without you beside him, but he knew the next meeting was going to be worth the wait.

- extra -

It had been a long and tiring day of quirk training as the students all sat around trying to catch their breath or to rejuvenate their spent energy.

“What you got in your hand there, Bakugou?” Kaminari teases, catching the students’ attentions as they all glanced at his hand.

Turning his hand around to face his palm up, Bakugou opened his fingers to expose the cute ice pack you had given him that night. “It’s (Name)’s. She gave it to me too cool my hands down after I over use my quirk,” he explains with a smug smile knowing all his single friends couldn’t relate.

The class reaction was a mix of ‘ooh’s and ah’s’ and ‘cute’ and a very quiet ‘simp’, but he’d let that slide this one time.

“Augh! I can’t believe you have a girlfriend! Why haven’t I been blessed yet!” Kaminari cries, shoving his hands into his hair in despair.

Glancing down at the ice pack, Bakugou smiled. Yeah, he was definitely blessed.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

No One I’d Rather Die For - fic

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne Summary: In canon, Damian blamed himself for Dick getting shot, despite not being there. So...what if he was? A/N: I’m struggling with some personal stuff and needed to cry, so now y’all have to as well. I never actually read when Dick got shot so this is based on the panel that came up when I image-searched it. How this became from Dick’s pov I have no clue. It was supposed to be from Damian’s, oops. Uh....warning death and gory-ish descriptions.

~~

It was raining in Gotham. And that wasn’t new. But that’s all Dick could think about. All he could focus on.

That, and one other thing.

Damian wasn’t supposed to be here.

Damian wasn’t supposed to be in the city. He was out. With the Titans, with Jon, with Maya, whatever. He was out of Gotham.

He was out of Gotham.

And it was just a normal case. He and Bruce standing on the GCPD roof with Gordon, talking over the evidence and suspects. Bruce and Jim were frowning. Dick was trying to cheer them up with a stupid joke. They were just about to wrap up for the night. Go back home. Relax. Move on to tomorrow.

Damian was not. Supposed. To. Be. There.

He was talking, in the middle of a joke. Something about the fucking Napkin Man.

Then, there was a distant pop!, the flash a shadow to his left, the thump of something hitting the roof, and liquid hitting his boot.

He blinked in an involuntary flinch, and Bruce screamed.

Screamed.

Bruce didn’t emote as Batman. Batman was calm, collected, always. Or angry. Angry and punching, the only sounds he emitted then were war cries.

And war cries weren’t screams. They weren’t agonizing shrieks.

Dick looked towards his mentor, followed his line of sight, even as Bruce lurched forward and collapsed to his knees.

His gut, his heart, his entire soul dropped into a black hole. Everything came together at once.

The pop was a gunshot. The shadow was Robin – Damian – dropping into action from his perch. The thump was Damian collapsing after being hit. The liquid on his boot was blood.

Damian had jumped in to stop a bullet. But who was the bullet for? This roof was in the center of various other taller buildings, they were practically sitting ducks. Damian had seen the threat, assessed the situation, and timed his movement.

Dread began creeping through his veins.

Gordon was furthest from the ledge, behind them both. Bruce half hidden in shadow, not a good angle to get a shot at, if the shooter wanted a one-and-done assassination.

A lump started forming in his throat as he too fell to his knees, quickly gathered Damian into his arms.

Damian had jumped to his left. To Nightwing’s left.

The bullet was for Nightwing. Someone had just tried to kill him.

And Damian saved him. Damian just saved his life.

(Again.)

The deduction, this mental investigation, took all of two seconds. If this wasn’t turning out to be the worst moment of his life, he would have been proud of himself.

“No, no, no…” Bruce was whispering, as Dick watched the blood pour over Damian’s chest, across his black-gloved fingers. Faintly, Dick registered Jim calling for an ambulance and a city lockdown. “Son…!”

The hole was in Damian’s throat, right through the center, just above his uniform collar. It pulsed with every attempted heartbeat. Blood leaked in waves. His eyes were already fluttering behind his mask.

Had he jumped too soon? Did he mean for it to hit him in the chest, or where his armor would have protected him better?

Did it even fucking matter at this point?

“You’ll be fine.” Bruce was practically pleading, hands hovering over Damian’s body like he didn’t know what to do with them. “You’ll be fine, son. I promise.”

Damian had the audacity to try to smirk.

“It’s okay.” Damian wheezed. The blood flowed harder. His head lolled into the crook of Dick’s elbow as he looked up at him. “You’re…you’re okay, so it’s…it’s all okay…”

God, Dick wanted to throw up. The lump in his throat threatened to rise like bile, and he coughed himself into a fit of tears. He tried to put his hand over the hole, put pressure on the wound, for a moment couldn’t find it in the flood of blood, but already his brain was telling him the truth. The truth he couldn’t bear to hear.

Damian was dying.

He had seconds. He’d be gone before any help could arrive. He’d take his final breaths right here, in Dick’s arms.

“Damian.” Bruce murmured, cupping his hand along Damian’s cheek. Damian could only move his tired eyes to look at him, kept his head nestled against Dick’s chest. “Damian, son, please don’t leave me. Please.”

“Ssssorry.” Damian offered instead. “But…” He closed his eyes, gave a light sigh, tried to open them again. “You’ll still have Grayson.”

Dick wailed. Like that made it better. Like Dick was the one who needed protected at all costs, not this child. Not this precious little boy who took their lives by storm, and they were all so much better for it.

“…It was KGBeast. Your old enemy.” Damian slurred. He closed his eyes again. “Don’t know why he’s afterrrrr…Nightwing, but…it’s a start…f-for your investigation…”

Batman – Bruce, now. Bruce wearing a stupid mask – gently shushed him, shaking his head as tears poured down his face. It appeared the truth had hit him now too, and there was no more time to beg the gods or universe around them for mercy.

He kept one hand on Damian’s face, and took the boy’s hand with the other. And Dick was grateful – Bruce didn’t try to take him. Didn’t try to pull him away from Dick’s arms. Just shifted closer so Damian was comfortably balanced between them.

He leaned down, pressed a gentle kiss to Damian’s forehead. “I love you, Damian. I love you more than I thought I could ever love another human being.”

Damian let himself smile at that, forcing his eyes open one more time. “I love you too, Father. Thank you for…for…” A pause, for a watery cough. Dick tightened his grip on his shoulder as Damian slumped a little. “…everything.”

Bruce couldn’t speak. Just shook his head. Damian closed his eyes again, and Dick knew, he knew, that he would never see those sea foam green irises again.

The bullet hole sputtered blood, and Damian hummed, “…Grayson.”

“Oh, kiddo.” Dick sobbed, pushing Damian’s hair back with his own bloodied hands. “My sweet little kiddo.”

“I’m glad I met you.” Damian whispered. “You’re…the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“No, that’s you.” Dick countered. “That’s you to all of us.”

Bruce nodded in agreement and squeezed Damian’s hand. Damian snorted a laugh.

“I love you, Damian.” He said quietly, finding himself still aware of Gordon nearby. But did it matter? Would Jim tell anyone that Robin’s name was Damian? Would he put the pieces together? Probably not. And right now, who cared if he did. “I love you so much, and I…I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

“…Keep saving the world.” Damian sighed matter-of-factly. “…Duh.”

“Duh.” Dick repeated with his own laugh. Even Bruce allowed himself a small smile. Dick glanced up at him, and Bruce returned the look. After a moment, he nodded once. Dick nodded back, and looked back at Damian. He swallowed that lump, kept carding his fingers through Damian’s hair, and watched as Bruce stroked his cheek. “…Go to sleep, D. We’ll take it from here.”

“…I love you, Richard.”

“I know, kiddo. And I’m so grateful for that.” Dick smiled. “…It’s okay, Damian. Get your rest. You deserve it.”

Damian attempted to nod, but the movement didn’t look right. He took another inhale, held it, and let out a long, slow sigh.

And he was gone.

Damian was dead.

Bruce immediately doubled over his body, sobbing against Damian’s forehead. Dick could only keep a tight hold on Damian’s body, wondering if he would ever be able to let go as he looked up into the sky.

It was raining in Gotham. And that wasn’t new. But now it seemed like there was a reason to it. Now it seemed that as his tears fell harder, so did the rain, washing away Damian’s blood as the city mourned with him.

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

I’m the same anon who requested that collar whump and 🙌 it was so good!!!! if you want to go more whumpy I encourage it!!! The only limit I have is please no explicit smut. I’m fine with implied/referenced just not explicit. Otherwise you can go wild!!! I’d totally love to see it!!! thank you so much!! 💞💞💞

Awwh! I'm so super happy that you liked it, that pleases me greatly to know that it was enjoyable! I insist, for your kind words let me treat you to something extra whumpy!

Limits understood! Let's crank up the whump button and keep that 'too familiar' with Whumpee going. Mind if I add a pinch of obsession into that intimate whumper? You know, as a treat because you deserve it anon! Rewinding time a bit, this is before the first post.

(Tags/TW: Collar whump, Intimate Male Whumper, Female Whumpee, Kidnapping, Stalking, Obsession whump, Choking, Hanging, Swinging by neck, Neck whump, Broken bones, Noncon touching, referenced/implied noncon, Hot/Cold Whumper, Hair pulling, Drugging, Cursing/strong language, Vampire whump. )

"You were too naive, you know that?" Whumper stated, hand gripping a flawless face and watching pretty, gemstone eyes roll in their sockets. "You never saw me, all this time, watching you from afar."

"I hoped you'd notice, I really did. I was so messy a couple of times, I ran right into you and somehow you never even saw me." It almost sounded pained, the way Whumper said it. Thick with emotion as his grip on her jaw became more violent and drew her out of the haze.

"I don't know if I should be insulted... Or happy you're so oblivious to the world around you."

As soon as Whumpee made it through the fog, her features pinched in a grimace and the sight before her wasn't one she'd expected. She recognized him but couldn't place him anywhere, her mind telling her she'd definitely seen him before.

"But you're here now... and you're going to be my pet now. No one will ever know I didn't buy you, I made sure of it." The more he rambled, the more infatuated he became with touching her. First her shoulder, now he was holding her hand, bringing it to his lips for a clammy, tacky kiss.

"Y-You're all mine," He was frantic, panicked as if he was both excited and terrified for what he was actually doing. Having kidnapped and tranquilized her thus far.

"Like.. hell I am.." She rasped, watching him fight off a chuckle and lose almost instantly.

"Hah- You're not going to have a choice. I'm your Master and pets obey their masters." Whumper insisted, reaching for a collar that had been already chained up to a pipe in the basement ceiling. "I'm going to teach you how to behave down here first, then w-wh-when you're broken in, yeah? Then.. Then I'll let you upstairs like a real pet."

He grabbed her up by the hair and she flew into fight or flight as soon as she was lifted off the ground. He was big, she'd give him that. Tall, probably 6'4 and he definitely worked out and enjoyed his carbs at the same time.

She was on the shorter side, but she knew how to use her weight and no matter the tension on her hair; she wormed her whole body to wrench away from him. The force was messy, her system still getting used to the hazy, limpness in her limbs.

"Bad!" He growled in resonating anger, using the grip on her scalp to slam her head into the wall. The first obviously dazed her and the second left her stilling. "You're gonna wear your fucking collar! L-Like a good pet!"

She looked at him with stars in her vision and pain seeping from the back of her head, features cracking with lines of hatred. She could smell it, her skin had split open on the poorly constructed brick wall and it stung when it started fusing back together from her healing speed.

She couldn't let him know just how her body worked or she feared the worst of his wrath. He really seemed like a horror movie villain at this point, the way he stuttered and looked at her with such blatant, scrutinizing attention.

"T-Thats too high, take it down and I'll wear it." She tried to reason, feeling one of his hands grab around the front of her neck while the other repositioned in her hair.

"It's not training if it's not painful.. what would you learn from just wearing a collar?" He questioned, tone acidic like she was a moron for even thinking of suggesting such a thing.

Those damned drugs did her in, if only she'd been at full strength when he tried again to wrestle her over and up to the collar he had waiting on her. She could have thrown him across the room, easily, if he hadn't somehow managed to subdue her. Now it was a struggle to keep herself on the ground as the muscular human kept taking her footing away from her.

She kicked and kicked and even when she landed contact with his legs, she knew it wasn't strong enough to even pull a reaction from him. He eventually won, hoisting her up and latching the thick, chain collar around her neck to entrap her with her own weight. It was just in distance to let the tips of her outstretched toes barely brush the ground.

"There, now you can squirm all you want, you'll just go swinging." He mused, giving her a push by her hips and watching her uselessly grip above her in the swing.

She felt like at any moment, her neck would snap, a grinding sound in her bones giving a warning creak when she reached the highest point. Her vocal chords were ruthlessly crushed against the curvature of the chain and she couldn't stop the faux spasms she felt in long-deadened lungs. It felt like she was a human again, drowning or being smothered, only she hadn't needed real air in decades.

Choking gurgles of begging barely registered past how hard he'd started laughing. She was like a chandelier in a living room that a mischievous housemate knocked into. Swinging in whatever pattern or direction gravity took her until she learned that she'd only stop if she went still.

Finally whumper stopped her and grabbed her backside to lift her up against him, holding her face to face with a devious smile across his face. "You're l-like a piñata. It's kind of cute."

Her hands flew up and in a sound clap, cupped his ears in a deafening impact. Immediately his head started to ring and he dropped her with such force she nearly slammed into him again on the downswing.

Whumper covered his ears and shoved fingers in them, anxiously feeling for blood and unable to hear anything but an ambient whine. He was furious and the stunning pain left him staggering back a few paces to let her endure the remaining momentum. The faintest of garbled blubbering could be heard and it was his only hope that he hadn't been completely deafened.

"You stupid bitch.." He roared, louder than he'd realized in his current state. "Y-You just lost your fucking hands!"

A vicious latch onto one of her arms and his opposite hand grabbed her wrist, twisting and wrenching it beyond it's natural pivot. She grabbed onto his wrists, nails dug in but couldn't stop the force he'd held her with.

The crack was agonizing, it popped so many times and she would have vomited if not for the noose around her neck. The limb instantly radiated pain and fell limp, unable to hold upright on the destroyed joint. Muffled cries were distant to him and even though he was looking her in the face, she sounded soft.

She'd stopped swinging when he grabbed her second arm and gave the faintest of tugs back from his menacing grip. Begging, pleading without shaking her head or making a single noise.

He ignored it. Snapping the second joint in a long twist and the satisfaction that he had with the feeling of breaking a bone was maddening. He savored it, giving an extra roll this time and really feeling the damage he'd done inside her skin.

"I bet you'll behave for me now, wont you?" He picked her up once more, this time leaving space between their upper halves in hesitation. When she left her hands at her sides, he was pleased with the progress they'd already made.

"God, even when you're in pain and have spit all down your face, you're still pretty." Whumper praised, taking his hold on her a bit easier now, lifting her up by the backs of her thighs and encouraging them to wrap around his waist for reprieve.

They did, as disgusting as it felt it relieved the tension on her neck and she was almost grateful in just that short time alone.

He pet her head fondly now, pushing down the strands he'd frizzed and upset and he pulled his sleeve over his hand to wipe her mouth. Her lips hung open like she was panting but no breath escaped her, throat desperately trying to clear with small growls and hacks.

"I've never seen you blush until now, I feel special." Whumper pushed her bangs back and returned down her face with a loving sweep while holding her; thumb tracing her lower lip.

"I can't believe you're finally all mine. I get to keep you forever and ever and... You can't escape me anymore." As if his mind was looping through all the times he'd thought about her or thought about kidnapping her, he stared into her eyes blankly.

Even if she didn't remember, he certainly did. Every encounter, every time he'd sent her a drink at the bar and been to shy to say something. When she flat out rejected him for a dance. The time she'd gotten in a taxi with him and he didn't say anything to her. The week he'd paid for her coffee in the drive thru, strategically, every day getting ahead of her in line.

It had all been worth it.

"You can't reject me anymore. You can't hide.. or brush me off or ignore the gifts I get you." The more he rambled, he less he was looking at her and the more he was looking through her. He framed her body, wrapped along her curves with a curious hand. He abandoned the hold and let her support herself when he couldn't handle not touching her with both of them.

"Now.. I can finally love you how you deserve.."

-

Sorry it took me so long to get to this anon! I hope this is respectful of your wishes and not too much towards the descriptive side. I also tried to go with the same tropes you'd requested but just make it more miserable. ; ^ ;

I know there is a very thin border to intimate whump and it can transition beyond the boundaries very easily. So if you have any critiquing or things to avoid that could help in the future, I'd love to know so I can gain some more versatility. I would (ideally) love to be able to cater to all requests in all forms and insight will only help me with that goal.

Another apology for the wait. Had some personal life stuff come up and wasn't in the feelings to write much. But I'm back on the rise and I'm hoping to get to everyone's messages and requests within the next few days.

I will not be doing first come first serve, I'm just doing whatever inspires me with this batch. Sorry if anyone thinks that's unfair, it's just how it is for me as a writer. This is 1 out of 7 asks and I don't even remember which ones came first because I immediately convert them into drafts. : ( But thank you so much for the req! Hope you enjoyed. <3

[buckysgoldenheart]

Just Something: Henry x Reader

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: You’re very cautious about relationships and don’t typically have them. Henry made you want to try, but you still struggle to keep your past from affecting your future with him. P.S. Henry is super supportive and caring.

Warnings/notes: Bits of smut. Fluff (ends fluffy). Emotional distress. Mention of past negative relationships. Anxiety. Cursing.

I tried to proofread this, but, like, i suck at it, sooooo....like I said, I tried :)

Words: 1675

As always, comments are appreciated 😊

You hadn’t moved since he started making you dinner. A mix of your favorite foods, because he was so damn happy, and he would do anything to make you as happy as you made him. It had been the same every night for the past few weeks. He’d been as sweet as toffee, and you were starting to get a stomach ache despite your best efforts to stave it off. You didn’t want to be sick; you weren’t supposed to be sick. But you’d never been overwhelmed with another’s affection before.

“So, I was thinking,” Henry called from the kitchen as you sat on the couch, staring at the wall. He popped his head around the corner. “Instead of renting, we should just buy a small place, you know, so we have somewhere to call home every time we’re back in London.”

You didn’t respond, not on purpose. It was like his words had smashed up against an invisible barrier surrounding your body and shattered to the ground before they could reach you. You instead tried to recall the name of the shade of white you had chosen for your walls all those years ago. Eggshell, you had decided. Must’ve been Eggshell. Though it could’ve been something stupid, like Dove-Feather White. You were in a different state of mind when you first rented your apartment; Frilly things and cutesy names brought unexpected smiles to your face. Comparing shades of a color that were really exactly the same no matter what lighting you viewed them under was something you needed before Henry was in your life.

Now you didn’t care, not really. He inched his way into making himself more important than wall paint or any decorative things alike. Back then, you couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing that he brought this change. When men mistreated you, you threw yourself into anything you could, and when you moved four years ago, you decided to focus on making a new space your own; whatever that meant. Spending a week choosing the stupid shade of white was therapeutic after you had just escaped another man. Then you met Henry.

Henry is different. Henry is different. Henry is different, you used to say over and over in your head, all the while wondering when he was going to do or say some random, unforeseen thing that neither of you could know might send you reeling. You figured it would happen eventually, you just didn’t know when. But then it didn’t.

“Y/N?”

You jumped at his voice. In your daze, you failed to notice him sneak his way beside you. When you looked at up him, he was already watching you, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Baby, did you hear me?” He asked as he ran his hand down your hair.

“What?”

He crouched down in front of you and placed his palms on your knees. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Um,” You blinked hard to bring yourself back from the underside of reality. “Sorry, what did you say a minute ago?”

“Just that I want to buy a place in London for us.”

“Us?” Us. Not a word you were used to. Before him, it was always me’s vs you’s.

Henry chuckled. “That was the idea, yes.”

“Why?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking, but you knew the answer.

“Wha…What do you mean ‘why’?” He cocked his head. “I love you. We leave for there in a few days. It’d be nice to have a home to return to after a long day of filming, and I want that home to have you in it.”

You nodded, and kept nodding, more to yourself than in response to what he said. This thing between you and him was meant to last the totality of a single night and yet, somehow, he had made it a little too easy for you to want him longer. But at the time, longer didn’t mean forever, not to you. To Henry, though, allowing him to break down some of your walls gave him the freedom to imagine a future you weren’t sure you could promise. You wished you could promise him the world, but he didn’t want the world. He just wanted you. And maybe that was worse. Maybe that was harder to give.

“You, me, and Kal.” He smiled.

You stared at how his lips parted, how just enough teeth showed. Did he know what that smile did to you? Did he know it was one of the things that tricked you into craving him? Your heart fluttered inside you, but when your expression didn’t change, his face fell.

“You’re panicking,” He said.

“Henry—”

“I can see it all over you, baby. Is it too quick? I know we finally made things exclusive between the two of us, and that was a big step, but if this is too soon then we don’t have to get a house now. I want us to live together, but you have to want it too.”

He was perfect and, in a way, you hated it. You hated that he was so understanding and gentle to the point where your insecure mind questioned his sincerity. You hated that he made your stomach and heart and bones melt to goo when you’d spent so many years working to build yourself sturdy. But, fuck, you loved him. Sometimes, you hated that too. Everything is easier when you don’t love someone.

“I’m sorry, baby,” He continued. “I’m being selfish. You agreed to be mine a month ago and I’m already trying to—”

“It’s not that,” You said. But maybe it was. You weren’t sure.

You were so scared to break him. You were scared to break yourself again. The deeper your relationship went, the more it felt like a pane of glass rising to the sky. With each day you loved him, each step you took towards him, that pane rose. But the higher it got, you realized if this thing between you fell apart, the more shards there would be when that glass hit the ground; too many shards for the sheet to ever be put back together again.

The most horrible part of everything was that you wanted it. You wanted him and his love and Kal and the house, and you still couldn’t stop yourself from worrying and—

His warm mouth was on yours and you had no idea when that happened. He’d tilted your face up and his lips gently caressed your own, bringing you back. He always brought you back to the surface when you couldn’t do it yourself.

“Come on, baby,” He whispered against your lips, his hands dragging from your shoulders to intertwine your fingers. He pulled you up from the couch with kisses and nibbles on your neck that had you moaning. “I love the feel your pulse against my lips,” He groaned. “I love that I make it go faster.”

“Henry,” You softly cried.

He licked a small stripe along your collar bone then sucked at the skin. “Bedtime,” He hummed, and it made your entire body shiver.

“Dinner?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He leaned back to look in your eyes and waited for you to nod. When you did, he smiled and touched your cheek, then walked you to your bedroom.

Slowly, he pushed you back on the bed until your head hit the plush pillow he’d bought when he learned you were having sleeping problems, then he undid the button of your jeans and slipped them off with your underwear. You yanked your shirt off and he undressed, and as you tossed your bra to the floor, he crawled on top of you.

“You love me?” He asked, pecking your lips.

You wound your fingers in his hair, and his breath hitched. “You ask every day,” You said.

“Every day I need to know. I want to make sure I’m not forcing something.”

You sighed as he placed a kiss on your chin, then jaw, then forehead. “I should tell you myself without you needing to ask.”

He shook his head and said, “It’s hard for you. So, I will ask and pray you say ‘yes’ until you feel like you can say it on your own.”

For the first time in the night, you kissed him before he could kiss you. “I do love you.”

“And I love you,” He told you, as he had a thousand times before. He slid his hard cock inside of you before the emotional wave of his words drowned you fully. His gasp mixed pleasantly with your own. “God, I really love you.”

Whimpers escaped your throat as he pulled out and shoved himself back into you again and again until he was the only thing you could feel. His cock as he stretched your walls, the skin on his back trapped under your fingernails, his hot breath on your neck. All of it consumed you.

There were days, when your brain would convince you of the worst and you found yourself unintentionally keeping Henry outside of your bubble, your personal and safe space where no one could completely reach you. But, God, when you let Henry inside that space…when that bubble became both of your bubble, it was the best damn thing the world had ever or could ever give you. It was the best damn thing you could give yourself.

You wrapped your legs tight around his hips as he came, and the feeling of him spilling inside you sent you over the edge with a sob that he smothered when he kissed you. Your chests rose and fell in sync, then he flipped your bodies over until you were splayed on top of him. You lazily kissed patches of his skin from his pecks, to his shoulders and neck.

“I want the house.” You whispered.

His hands were on either side of your face in the same breath and his eyes searched yours. He smiled when you gave no hint of uncertainty. “Yea?”

“Yea.”

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

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[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (12)

In Which Lila Learns about Skyrim

Ao3 | FF.net

Sorry for taking a bit with this chapter. It isn’t even very long. But I was in the hospital recovering from surgery. We’re coming up close to the end of the story, but there’s maybe two more chapters after this. 

(Psst this chapter has hints to the next story I’ll publish after this one...as long as my ideas don’t change lol)

--

Lila was fired. It was immediate when they found out. Everyone sat in class, the lecture normal and lulling everyone into a soft state of sedation. 

Then Lila screamed. The scream was the worst thing Marinette had ever heard. Immediately, everyone turned to look at her in horror. 

She started bawling. Huge gasping sobs of someone who’d been shot. 

“Lila?!” Miss Bustier gasped in shock and concern. “Are you okay?!” 

“I’m so sorry, Miss Bustier!” She wailed. “I just wanted to peek at my email and—and—Mr. Agreste fired me!” 

Plagg had to bite his tongue. He knew she was going to twist this somehow, but her sobbing was so beautiful to see. 

“Oh Lila, I’m so sorry. It hurts a lot to lose a job. Especially when they don’t tell you to your face. That’s no fair.” 

“He-he-he said that Marinette told him that I was making Adrien uncomfortable! She got me fired!” 

Gasps, all around. 

“What?!” Barked Marinette. “I had nothing to do with this!” Not exactly the truth...

“But that’s what Mr. Agreste said!” 

Plagg stood, placing his foot on the seat, the spurs on his cowboy boots ringing with the motion. He put his cowboy hat back on (since Mrs. Bustier had asked him to remove it for violating dress code...again.) “well now. Sounds like we got ourselves in a gosh darn pickle.” 

Nino snorted. 

“Adrien! You never said I made you uncomfortable! Marinette must have lied to your father!” 

He flicked the rim of his hat. “Now slow your roll there, Buckeroo. I know my old man, and even if Marinette was mentioned in his email, it’s likely that he just wanted to place the blame on someone else.” 

Yes, throw the old man under the bus. He still deserves it, even with whole hearted apologies. 

“But you know, I do feel awfully bad for you, Lila. Losing yer job and all. How’s about I make it up to ya? I’ll come sit by you for a while. Keep ya company and cheer you up. Cain’t have gettin’ all akumatized up in here, you reckon?” 

Not that Lila getting akumatized was even a concern anymore. But the world wouldn’t know about Hawkmoth’s surrender until Emilie’s fate was resolved. Adrien’s family deserved that much at least. 

“Oh Adrien!” Lila cried. “You really are such a wonderful friend. But I couldn’t bear to make you move on my behalf. You need to focus on your work.” 

“A cowboy needs to be exceptional at multitasking. That is, as long as Mrs. Brassiere is okay with it.” 

Miss Bustier pinched the bridge of her nose. Usually, she was a very calm and level-headed teacher, compassionate and understanding. But Adrien’s antics were stressing her out massively. “Yes, Adrien, I suppose it’s fine if you move to—what did you call me?”

“Much obliged, Madam. If’en you’ll excuse me...” 

Marinette watched with fascination as Plagg gathered up his materials and moved to the back of the class to sit next to Lila. Then she glanced in her purse, where Tikki and Adrien were hanging out. They both shrugged. 

Due to the retirement of Hawkmoth, Adrien was now allowed to spend time away from the Miraculous without consequence. Plagg assured him that once the final condition was met, no matter where he was, his soul would return to his body. 

So he spent the school day with Tikki, and the evenings with Marinette. It was a sweet deal, and it really gave Adrien the time to bond with her without school or akumas in the way. 

He had even spent the night with her the night before, curled up next to her on her pillow, and purring every time Marinette’s hand glanced his fur. 

Nino leaned back in his seat. “Do you know what he’s up to this time?” 

“No idea...but I am eager to see where this goes.” 

Nino shook his head with a shrug. Two nights ago, when Plagg was arrested, Nino gathered all the money in his savings and went down to the jail to bail him out. 

Only to find out he was already let go. 

So he went back home, and called Adrien’s phone relentlessly, hoping for an answer. 

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Chat Noir returned and explained that he was going home now, thanks for having him, he had to watch the mansion because his sort of repentant father was going to Tibet to resurrect his dead wife. 

Nino gave up on logic and understanding, and just made sure Plagg had everything he had brought. 

Now he would wait until the whole situation blew over, and hopefully Adrien himself, in his own body, would explain it all to him. Plagg seemed to oversimplify everything to the point it became vague. 

Marinette, on the other hand, was very curious to see where this was all going. After all, Adrien’s previous tactic of being nice to Lila hadn’t worked. So what was Plagg hoping to gain from the same approach?

Wrassle her with his randomly appointed cowboy charm? 

In science, two classes later, Plagg had elected to sit next to Lila still, despite her protests. 

Marinette was close enough now to hear what Plagg’s master plan was. 

“So there’s like several types of Mer, right? But not like mermaids. This has nothing to do with mermaids. These are mostly elves, but not all. So there’s Dunmer, right? Those are dark elves. And Bosmer, wood elves, and Altmer, high elves. The Falmer are snow elves, but they’re all twisted and savage, because of the Dwemer, which are dwarves!” 

Marinette snorted a bit too loudly, drawing attention from the teacher. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, is something funny?” 

“No ma’am, I had a tickle in my sinuses.” 

“Ah, I see. Anyways, as I was saying...” 

Lila always sat in the back of the class, despite her many alleged disabilities. This was probably to get away with the fact that she rarely paid attention during class. 

It was the ideal place for Plagg to harass her and not get caught. 

Poetry in motion. 

“So you get to pick what race you want to be, but you’re always the Dragonborn. Despite the description, you don’t look any different. So a Dragonborn is someone that can devour the souls of dragons so they don’t get resurrected by Alduin. Let me back up, Alduin is an evil dragon that used to rule the world, and he’s resurrecting dragons so he can take over. There’s another dragon though, named Paarthanax, and he’s a good guy. He helps out the Tongues on the Throat of the World. Or the greybeards. Some call them Tongues, but in the game they’re called Graybeards. And the tongues are the monks that teach you to shout. And different shouts teach you different things, right? The dragonborn and the tongues are the only ones that are supposed to know how to shout, but there’s this other dude named Ulfric Stormcloak, and he knows Unrelenting Force, that’s the Fus Ro Da shout I was talking about earlier? He used it to kill high king Torygg to start a war. Oh yeah, so there’s nine holds with Jarls, right—“ 

The day ended, and Lila stood quickly. “Well Adrien, thank you so much for keeping me company today. I’m feeling a lot better. You can move back up to your old spot tomorrow.” 

“Well, you shore are welcome, Pardner. But sittin here in the back has been mighty nice. I think I’ll stay! You don’t mind, do ya? It’s awfully fun to have you as company!” 

Lila’s eye twitched, but she was aware that most of the class was watching them. “Yeah. That’d be...great.” 

“Darn tootin’! Well, you look like you’re in a rush, don’t want to hold you up!” 

“See you tomorrow!” She chirped, before hurrying from the room. As she passed Marinette, a dark look came over her face. The look of someone seething with rage and hatred, but trying to hide it. 

Marinette would have been scared, if Lila hadn’t been dealing with Plagg instead. 

Marinette went home, Tikki and Adrien talking to her from her collar. 

“I don’t know. Plagg was successful with the first two tasks, but I don’t know how he’s going to turn Lila over to the good side.” Marinette mused. 

“I don’t know if he has to. The condition is to just get her to leave me alone. He said he was doing some Pavlovian Jedi mind trick on her.” 

“Well, I sure hope it works. Speaking of, where is Plagg?” 

Adrien’s ears flicked. “He left pretty suddenly after class. I didn’t see him go. Hopefully, he went back to the mansion.” 

“Do you want me to call him?” 

“No, I trust him. He’s got things under control.” 

“Glad to hear it! Ready for snack time?” 

“Oh heck yes!” 

—

Lila had to actively stop herself from stomping all the way home. Frustration rolled off of her in waves, and she mildly wondered why she hadn’t been akumatized yet. 

Adrien Agreste was the most annoying person she had ever met. And oblivious too! He never picked up on any of her subtle hints to get him to shut up! She really didn’t want to be rude, because his friendship looked great on her, but wow. No wonder he didn’t have any friends. No wonder Gabriel was so protective of him. If he wasn’t cute...his personality was like a wet sock. 

And he was weird. Weird mannerisms, weird speech pattern, just weird. Hopefully she could either get used to it, or Adrien would get a clue to stop being so obnoxious. 

Finally, she reached her apartment. 

“Home mom!” She called. 

There was laughter in the kitchen. Her mother had a guest. While not uncommon, there was just a hint of dread that hung in the air. 

Lila walked to the kitchen, only to see Adrien sitting at the table, talking to her mother! How?! How did he beat her here?! How did he know where she lived?! What the hell was he doing?!

“Adrien?” Lila gawked. 

He rubbed his head awkwardly. “Sorry for popping in uninvited. I just...I was worried about you! You’ve been akumatized twice, and I didn’t want it to happen again since you were fired.” 

Lila’s face paled as her mother gave her a stern look. 

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, Missy. I didn’t know you were modeling. And you never told me about being akumatized!” 

Adrien gasped. “Oh no! She didn’t tell you? I’m so sorry! I didn’t know that was a secret! I won’t say anymore!” 

“Any more?” Mrs. Rossi asked. “There’s more?” 

“Adrien.” Lila bit, in warning. 

“Well...I mean, you knew she was meeting with my father right? Something about being his muse?” 

Mrs. Rossi looked horrified. “What! You were talking to a grown adult man?! Were these visits supervised?!” 

Lila opened her mouth to answer, but Plagg beat her to it. “I don’t think so. Father is a very private person.” 

“Lila Giselle Rossi! You are sooo grounded! No offense to your father, Adrien, but meeting up with an adult man, unsupervised? And to what, be his muse? What does that even mean? It sounds gross!” 

“I swear nothing happened! He just wanted my opinion-”

“On what? What reason would he have to ask a 14 year old’s opinion?”

Plagg winced and looked at Lila. “I’m so sorry, Lila. I came here to help, but...” 

Lila shook with rage. Her mother was a complete pushover and believed everything she said. Now Adrien had sewn the seeds of distrust in her and she wouldn’t get away with any white lies ever again. 

“You’re dead,” She mouthed at Plagg. 

“Adrien, thank you for coming here and telling me all of this. I’m very grateful. But I think it’s best if you head home now. Lila has some chores to do.” 

“I understand, Madam Rossi. Again, I’m really sorry...I just wanted to help.” 

“Oh don’t worry, you did. This is for Lila’s own good.” 

He sheepishly looked to her. “See you tomorrow?” 

Her eye twitched. “Yeah.” 

And Plagg swiftly walked from the apartment, concealing his evil laughter until he got to the door. 

—

The next day at school, Marinette, along with Tikki and Adrien in her bag, arrived at school just a few minutes before the bell rang. 

Plagg was sitting at the front of the room, wearing a Pikachu onesie, and looking absolutely devastated. Nino sat next to him and had a hand over his face, doing his best to conceal whatever emotion he had. 

Everyone else in the room was avoiding them like they had the plague. 

Alya spotted her and came quickly, looping an arm through hers and escorting them out into the hall. “Girl, big news. I know you love Adrien, so this is going to be a blow. But here’s the thing...Lila told us this morning that Adrien came to her house yesterday and told her mom about her modeling job. Apparently, her mom didn’t want her working, and got upset that Lila lied. Adrien’s been insisting that it wasn’t on purpose, but everyone is kind of pissed at him anyway.” 

Marinette said nothing, but bit her lip. She knew that this absolutely was on purpose. 

“I’ll leave your actions up to you, but people are pretty mad at Adrien. Just letting you know.” 

“Who’s side are you taking?” 

Alya scoffed. “None. I’m staying out of this. Both people are in the right. Obviously Sunshine just wanted to prevent her from being akumatized. He was with her all day yesterday. It’s admirable, really.” 

“It is.” Marinette said with a smile. Though she was smiling for a completely different reason. There were no akumatizations anymore. Everyone was safe now. 

“We better get back in there, class will start soon.” 

So they returned. Miss Bustier was in, and ready to begin the lesson. 

Then Plagg raised his hand. 

“Yes Adrien?” 

“Before we start class, I want to say something.” 

“Go ahead, Adrien. The floor is yours.” 

He stood, and looked to Lila in the back of the room. “Lila, I know I apologized yesterday, but I’m really really sorry about outing you to your mom. I had no idea she didn’t know about your rendezvous with my father. I was just really scared that you were going to become akumatized, and I didn’t want that to happen. My friends are all important to me, and losing you would be like ripping out a piece of my heart. Could you ever forgive me?” 

Marinette glanced Nino’s face, which twitched to hide a smile. Then she looked at Lila, who looked calm, but her hands were balled into fists. 

After many breathless minutes, Lila smiled slightly. “I understand, Adrien. Of course you’re still my friend. I treasure you too! I’m sorry I got so mad.” 

“Hugs?” Plagg raised his arms. 

Lila could pretend to be happy and calm, but the paling of her skin could not be hidden. “Hugs!” 

Plagg brought her in for a squeeze, and the class ‘aww’ed at their make up. 

Except Nino, who let out the tiniest snort. 

Marinette flicked open her purse to look at Adrien. He mimed a gagging gesture back. 

And then Plagg took those last couple steps and joined Lila on her bench. No one tried to stop him. No one spoke up and said, “hey, maybe you should give her some space anyway.” 

They just all let poor, socially awkward Adrien push boundaries and take his seat. Because he had apologized so earnestly for trying to help. And she had forgiven him. So everything was fine now. 

Right?

As the lesson started, Marinette paid attention to the teacher. But occasionally, she’d hear the faintest whispers of Adrien’s voice (Plagg’s voice now). 

“...so it’s commonly believed that the Nord’s came from Atmora with Ysgramor, but they believe that they settled Skyrim, so they’re kind of racist to everyone else. But also, the Empire came in out of nowhere and tried to upheave their way of life, and even told them which Gods they were allowed to worship. High King Torygg was playing cordial with the Aldmeri Dominion, and some of the other Jarl’s didn’t like that. So Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Whiterun shouted him to death. Just like the Dragonborn can. Though it’s never explained why he knows how to do this. So this started a whole civil war…” 

Marinette chanced a glance behind her, and noticed that Lila had her head in her hands, and she looked absolutely miserable.

[asphyxiateher]

Only Monsters Come Out At Night

Chapter 2: Say My Name. A/N: Rough draft I’ll be posting to AO3 later after I go through the edits. Enjoy now, I’ll be polishing it later. I personally would let Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters step on me but that’s just me

Warnings: Character death, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, horror. Elements of non-con. 

              Time had no meaning for Desdemona anymore as her entire being floated comfortably into a quiet void. She was only accompanied by the sweet sound of silence that filled her ears and that in itself was comforting. She was in such a deep state of sleep that it felt like she would be trapped in the peaceful state of purgatory for eternity, but alas that would no longer be the case. Desdemona thought she was dead; in fact, she wanted nothing more than for that to be the case. Unluckily for her, she was about to wake to unfortunate events that would lead her to believe she was trapped in Hell. At first, she sees nothing in her field of vision but then she hears the shrill sound of familiar laughter that sends a shiver down her spine. The black abyss she grew accustomed to deteriorated all around her, a blinding flash of white light surrounds her for the briefest of moments before Desdemona’s eyes finally opened to reveal the disturbing scene before her. “Mother, my pet is finally awake! Oh, I was growing ever so impatient, my darling little one. I was so desperate to peer into those gorgeous eyes of yours again, I was tempted to pluck them out of your skull as you slept.” A voice whispered dangerously into her ears behind her, wet lips gently wrapping around her right ear before it was released with a pop. “Cassandra, you foul thing, learn your place! How many times do I have to say that it was I who found our prize? Do not touch what does NOT belong to you!” Screeched the woman with the green pendant as she materialized by her side in an instant. It didn’t take long for the fact to register that this was the first time that Desdemona could finally get a better look at the women who attacked the group in the village. Now that their hoods were down, she could better identify them by not only their hair color but by the manner of which they spoke and the pendants they wore. The way they continued to fight over her made her stomach turn as she struggled to comprehend why they wanted her alive and what they were going to do with her.

Another black mass of insects appeared and disintegrated into nothing just as quickly as the third woman decided to chime in, her yellow pendant gleaming brightly against the dimly lit room. Her dirtied, dark brown hair tickled Desdemona’s face as she leaned dangerously over her, the smirk on her face growing wider when Desdemona’s breath grew heavy again. She raised her hand and playfully walked two fingers up Desdemona’s arm and over her collarbone before she roughly grasped her prey’s chin and forced her to look directly into her eyes. “Hello, pretty little plaything, you’ll find that my sisters lack manners when they’re lusting over irresistible blood. You should feel honored you made quite the impression as you did. The others you brought with you are undeserving of your company and you’ll find that they deserve punishment simply by existing. Mother will see to that soon enough.” The brunette told her quietly as she straightened back up.

‘Wait, what did she mean by punishing the others for simply existing? Where were Desmond and Veronica?’ Desdemona worriedly thought to herself. The younger Hawthorne sibling attempted to move but she didn’t realize her wrists were restrained by old fashioned shackles until it was too late. She suddenly felt herself being lifted to her feet by the two crazed sisters standing on either side of her. Each woman occasionally nuzzled into her neck and sniffed at her, nipping at her and licking exposed skin whenever the impulse struck.

Desdemona glanced around her environment and realized that they must be inside the castle if the polished flooring, centuries old artwork and beautiful grand staircase were of any indication. Where else would they be after getting lost out on the trail?

The frightened young woman made the mistake of looking over to her left and found that the red-haired woman known as Daniela was staring at her with a glazed look in her eyes. The sight of her lips parting and blowing her a small kiss made Desdemona’s heart nearly jump out of her throat. She couldn’t avert her gaze out of fear and Daniela took that as an invitation to flirt the only way she knew how. She brought two fingers to her face, spaced them out to a “V” shape and made an obscene gesture with her unusually long tongue, moaning loudly when Desdemona blushed and looked away. “Don’t be shy, my love. Once we take care of Mother’s unwanted pests, we can finally be alone together and I’ll taste you once and for all. You’ll find that I do want to eat you but only in the best way possible. You wouldn’t deny me the pleasure, would you?” Daniela growls out, her eyes fluttering shut as the sound of Desdemona’s blood rushing through her veins and her rapidly beating heart thudding against her chest awakened a whole new need in Daniela. Desdemona wanted to cry out but refrained from doing so when she realized somebody else was coming.

Heels could be heard clicking from afar, a door slamming open and voices shouting in protest behind what seemed to be an impossibly tall, statuesque women. Desdemona’s jaw dropped for two reasons: The woman who entered the room dramatically exuded such class and confidence that it didn’t look awkward in the manner in which she had to bend so far low to pass through the doorway. When she uncurled herself from the uncomfortable position, her golden eyes met gray uncertain ones and they immediately pierced through Desdemona’s soul. The woman brought out a whole new level of terror within her. The second reason Desdemona’s mouth remained agape was due to the fact that the mysterious woman dragged along the wounded bodies of both Desmond and Veronica.

‘They’re still alive!’ Desdemona thought, hope rising in her chest the moment she saw both her best friend and twin reacting to her presence. “Des, you’re okay! Christ, the way these fucking things were talking about you, I thought the worst happened.” Desmond called out to her, desperation in his voice as he attempted to crawl his way towards his sister. Veronica tried to break free from the intimidating woman’s grasp but the woman merely raised a perfectly manicured brow in response and tugged on the chains wrapped around both Desmond and Veronica. They had collars clasped tightly around their necks and they choked as a result of the chains being pulled back.

When Veronica glanced back at Desdemona, the furious expression on her face softened when she noticed the bedraggled state her friend was in. Desmond noticed it too and it only served to fuel his anger. “What the fuck did they do to you? I’ll kill them, I’ll slit their fucking throats and make them pay if they so much as tried to ra-,” Veronica began but was immediately cut off with a harsh slap to the face. “Goddamn, bitch!” “Silence, vermin! Speak when you’re spoken to or you’ll learn your place soon enough should you continue to use foul language in my house. Now, pray tell my daughters, what is it that has you all so eager about entertaining this particular foreigner?” The elegant woman asks as she gives Desdemona a once over. The manner in how she reacts to inhaling Desdemona’s scent alarms the younger Hawthorne sibling. She decides to inspect her more closel with flared nostrils and enlarged pupils. She seemed…pleased, for whatever reason. ‘Do they plan on sacrificing you to appease whatever wicked deity they believe in?’ Desdemona nervously asked herself.

One of the daughters, the one known as Bela and the one with the red pendant, spoke first. “We were out on the hunt in the village when I suddenly picked up on her delicious scent, mother. She’s a carrier of our favorite blood type. We haven’t had anyone like her in so long, we were hoping we could make a feast of her with your permission.”

Desdemona tensed up at the suggestion and vigorously shook her head. “M-may I ask what w-we did to offend you and your daughters? I apologize for any wrongdoing, ma’am but we’re just Americans on vacation and we ran out of gas on the way to Bran! We weren’t expecting to get lost but please let us go, we didn’t come out here to hurt anyone!” She pleaded with tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes flicking from Daniela to Cassandra and finally, the incredibly powerful woman standing before.

“Des, don’t go begging them. They’re not going to listen to reason, believe me; we tried!” Desmond warned.

The quiet dark-haired woman, Cassandra, sneered at Desdemona’s twin and slashed at his face with her sickle in hand. Desmond cries out and attempts to cover his face with his cuffed hands only to have them ripped away. She kicks his chest and flattens him on the ground. Cassandra smiles wickedly as she brings her heel to the open cut and presses hard against his face for a moment, stomping on him a few times for good measure. Both Veronica and Desdemona scream, begging the sadistic sister to stop tormenting him but their pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Good, girl, Cassandra. The hideous man-thing won’t shut his hole. I’m this close to gutting him on my newly polished floor and letting you girls get your fill for the evening. Ugh!” The woman in charge said before looking over to you once again. “It seems your exotic little treat has good manners considering what she is, however, and wishes to bargain with us. I can be a most gracious host and I’m all ears but I have two conditions if you wish to prolong your life, little one. Allow me to introduce myself first. I am Countess Alcina Dimitrescu and these beautiful girls of mine are my daughters Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela.”  

Veronica scoffed and spat at the floor, earning a glare from the titan of a woman who was apparently on the edge of snapping. Desdemona was ready to leave in one piece so of course she stepped in and spoke on behalf of her brother and her furious friend. “P-pleasure to meet you all, I’m Desdemona Hawthorne and that’s my twin brother, Desmond and my childhood friend Veronica. Ma’am, or My Lady, this all has to be a colossal misunderstanding and we are willing to pay any price if you allow us to leave and return home.”

The trembling girl gasped the moment she felt a pair of cold hands wrap themselves around her breasts from behind. Another set of hands reached for her belt buckle and began undoing her jeans rather enthusiastically. The next thing she knew, her v-neck shirt had been torn in half and her pants torn and ripped off her body.

“Desdemona, such a lovely name and what a lovely body. Mother, please let me keep her? I promise I won’t break her.” Daniela whined as she rubbed her hands up and down the length of her victim’s bare torso. It didn’t help the situation at hand when Daniela’s touch left Desdemona arching back into her, which must have sent the wrong signal because the delusional woman squealed with delight.

“If you or Cassandra had it your way, you’d bleed her dry on the first night and waste her blood when I would savor every inch of her until her very last moment!” Bela complained, her fingers inching dreadfully closer to the band of her undergarments.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off my sister, you twisted bitches. Stop fucking touching her! I’ll kill you, I swear it!” Desmond bellowed, managing to pull away from Lady Dimitrescu’s clutches and lunged at the women that were touching his twin inappropriately. He swung his arms at Daniela and used the length of the chain to whip against the side of her body. Daniela, caught off guard by his sudden attack, screeched in surprise and this immediately angered Alcina.

“ENOUGH!” Lady Dimitrescu signaled for her daughters to apprehend Desmond and the girls obliged, their concern for Daniela overwhelming even to them. Bela and Cassandra ambushed him on either side and using their transformative powers, they pulled him away from their youngest sibling and slammed his body against the nearest wall. Cassandra pinned his shackled hands above his head while Bela held onto his thrashing legs tightly.

Veronica was breathing heavily but made no move to run to him, not while Alcina held her leash tightly. Her brows were furrowed, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as she tried to refrain from saying anything that would cause them to harm Desmond.

Desdemona could only cry out for mercy as it physically pained her to watch her own twin suffer at the hands of these monsters.

Meanwhile, Alcina had been hunched over Daniela and whispered disturbingly soothing things into her daughter’s ears, words expressed by a loving mother to her daughter, and it looked almost normal. When Alcina stepped away from Daniela, she composed herself after displaying what she deemed a moment of vulnerability and shot Desmond a withering glare. “How dare you touch my daughter with your filthy man-hands, you wretched creature. I can see there is no taming a wild animal like you and like all wild animals, they must be put down! I was ready to lay down my conditions if I were to let you leave alive but you really screwed yourself. Desdemona Hawthorne, seeing as you were polite and tried to communicate in a manner I found pleasing, you shall be gifted to my daughters as their personal form of entertainment. You will be their plaything, and your trashy friend, Veronica, who is now under my employ as a house maiden, will be forced to clean you up after every time they choose to play with you. She will be beaten and broken until she learns what it is to be obedient.” Alcina growls out menacingly, enjoying the way Veronica begins to hyperventilate at the terrifying concept of being broken in by someone like Lady Dimitrescu. Alcina drags Veronica across the room as she approaches Desmond and Veronica is now desperately trying to claw her away from the elegant countess. Raising her free hand in the air, sharp elongated claws form almost immediately at the tips of her fingers. It was in this moment that panic begins to set within Desdemona as she realizes what she’s about to do and so she attempts to rush Lady Dimitrescu. Daniela is quick to catch her prey and uses force to subdue Desdemona. She slams her knee against Desdemona’s back and brings her down to her knees, hooking both of her arms from around and underneath the smaller girl and forcefully raises her arms up. “Let this be a hard lesson, my darling. Don’t you ever disrespect my mother in her own home or disobey her when she gives you an order. There are worst things than death, love, and they wander the mansion unsupervised at night.” Daniela whispers into Desdemona’s ears before bringing her attention back to her mother. Heart hammering against her chest, Desdemona’s blood runs cold when she sees Desmond shed a tear at the realization that he was going to pay the ultimate price. In a quivering voice, Desmond beckons his sister to look at him one final time.

‘Oh no, no no no. They can’t do this, they won’t do this! I have to help him. I’m not sure I can live without my other half, it would be too cruel for me to go on without him!’ Desdemona thinks, weeping at the sight of her twin brother sacrificing his own life for hers. “P-please, my l-lady, let him go I beg you! Don’t hurt him please, I’ll do anything if you let him go. Don’t take him away from me, please.” Desdemona begs. Steely gray eyes meet hers and she recognizes that he is resigned to his fate. She sucks in a deep breath, unwilling to break eye contact as he says his final goodbye. “See you on the other side, Dezzy. Promise me you’ll make it out of here. Mom deserves to know. I love you and V…so very much.” He tells her with a wavering voice. In the background, Veronica is verbalizing her objections and pleads for Desmond’s freedom but in the end, it was all for naught.

With an evil smirk and a deep chuckle, Alcina brings down her claw at Desmond’s abdomen, slashing him so deeply that his innards begin to seep out of him.

Desdemona feels like she’s suffocating, her lungs unable to function as she struggles to make a sound no matter how much she wants to cry out her brother’s name one more time. She throws her head back and opens her mouth to wail but nothing comes out but a few choked coughs. The surviving twin couldn’t explain it but it felt like Alcina personally reached into her chest and destroyed the most important part of her being. Desmond was her other half and upon death, a most profound connection between siblings is severed and there lies nothing left but an echo of what was once there. Desdemona felt…empty, as if she would never be whole again now that her brother was gone.

She shuts her eyes and the horrifying image of Desmond’s intestines piling up on the floor and blood sloshing everywhere replays again in her mind. The hurt is renewed and this time, she summons every ounce of emotion she could as she screams out his name, Veronica’s loud, panicked screaming fueling her grief.

“DESMOND!”

She screams it over and over again until her body slumps in Daniela’s arms. She’s too weak to do anything else. She can hear voices and the sound of heels clicking but she can’t hear what is being said. Desdemona tries her very best to drown out the background noise as her sorrow was too great but Cassandra’s voice breaks her out of her reverie and it is what she murmurs in Desdemona’s ears as she passes by that makes her whimper for an entirely different reason.

“Just you wait until I make you say my name like a prayer, love. This is only the beginning.”

[thirstyforlulu]

They kidnap reader / fem / omega of alucard / alpha, when it is in heat, then alucard goes after his kidnappers and saves you, a lot of blood and sex.

Most people know better than to fuck with what belongs to Alucard

Even an old pen is safe if it belongs to him

Your scent permeated through the entire manor, making every other alpha hot under the collar

No matter how badly they wanted to go after you, they knew better

Alucard would rip them to shreds if he caught even the slightest scent on you

He knew you were in heat, but unfortunately he had to go to work

It was painful to leave you there, his pants felt so unbearably tight

You whined as the door to your room shut behind

The promise that he’d return and turn you inside out was the only thing keeping you sane

You curled up under the blankets, making yourself a little nest where you could wait for him

Sleep was all you could think of to occupy the time, but you were way too horny

His smell was still present on the pillows and covers, you buried your face in them to keep you calm

That helped you a little, but you never did fall completely asleep

That’s why when someone pulled you from your bed, you were already half awake

You tried to fight them as they dragged you away and into some truck, but your heat had made you weak

They took you to a warehouse and tied you to a chair then they set up a camera in front of you

Meanwhile, Alucard was dealing with the aftermath of the raid

All the stragglers had been dealt with, he was now assessing the damage and trying to figure out what their goal had been

The men he killed told him nothing, they did a good job of keeping their plan a secret

The majority of them had come in through the front, but he suspected that was a diversion

He was calm, until he saw the boot tracks heading toward your room

Dropping everything he ran to check on you, when he found the door ajar he lost his shit

“Y/N?!” He yelled as he ran in, nearly tearing the door off its hinges as he pushed it out of his way

The room was a mess, it was clear they’d taken you

He knew then that the attack at the front was nothing but a diversion, you were the real target

On the nightstand was your phone, when he picked it up he saw several missed video calls

When he called them back, he was met with a video of you tied to a chair with several cuts and bruises on your face

“Finally! We were wondering when you’d figure it all out,” a voice came from behind the camera

You looked up, giving Alucard such a pitiful look

“So, I suspect you have some demands for me?” Alucard began

“Clever vampire, we need you to kill the surviving members of the Hellsing organization, in return we’ll give back your omega,” the man explained

“How childish, you went through all that trouble, and my poor y/n had to suffer.”

“Are you saying you won’t do as we say?”

“Of course not.”

“Well then that’s fine, you’ll come around I’m sure, and while we wait I think we’ll play around with your omega. She’s in heat, we’ll help her deal with that,” the same said, reaching out and grabbing your head

You yelped, his fingers digging into your scalp

Alucard hung up, unable to stand another second

He would have no trouble finding you, when it comes to you he’s a bloodhound

It only took him a few minutes to get to the warehouse

It took even less time for him to kill everyone guarding the doors

The room you were in was off to the side, more than likely an old office

He kicked open the door and found you surrounded by a group of men

When Alucard hung up the phone they quickly moved in on you, reaching out to take handfuls of your hair or attempting to kiss you

Some of them were alphas but they did nothing for you, their scent was nothing compared to Alucard

Seeing those men with their hands on you pissed him off to no end

He opted not to use his guns on them, instead he ripped them apart with his bare hands, wanting to make sure they suffered

You watched with growing excitement

He always looks so handsome and powerful when tearing people apart

When the final man fell, Alucard was covered in blood and breathing heavy

He was already worked up because of your heat, the fight added even more heat to the fire

You whimpered, trying to get closer to him but all you did was tip yourself over, falling to the floor at his feet

“Look at you, my poor neglected omega. I could smell you before I even walked in here, you must be in so much pain~” he teased, bending down to free you

The men from before did nothing for you

There were several alphas among them, but compared to yours they were worthless

Even when some of them exposed themselves you felt nothing, all it did was make you want him more

As the ropes fell from your sides, you quickly attempted to climb up Alucard’s body

Your hands desperately reached for his belts

All you could think of was him finally taking you

“Fuck, y/n. I need to bury my knot in you,” he said, lifting you up as soon as you had his pants unbuckled

Your pants were quickly pulled out of the way as his own fell to his ankles

There was no need for foreplay, your legs were dripping

Several drops fell onto his cock as he adjusted his grip on you

“Get ready,” he laughed in your ear

Without another warning he entered you, easily slipping inside thanks to your arousal

You shouted for joy, burying your head in his coat

There was so much you wanted to say, but your mind was too preoccupied

Drool dribbled out from your mouth, creating a wet spot on his chest, but no worries, he thought it was adorable

You bounced up and down from the force of his thrusts, forcing you to fall back down onto his cock and push it even further inside

His swelling knot spread your entrance slightly, not having enough force to fully slip inside

You wanted so badly for him to hurry up and put it in, but he wasn’t ready yet

“Please, please give me your knot,” you begged, tongue rolling to the side

“What was that my little omega?”

“Please, knot me. Alucard, my alpha I need you,” you cried

With a satisfied grin, he pushed you up against the nearest wall, using it to help him insert his knot

That heavenly feeling of being stretched flooded into you before it finally popped inside

“Yes!” You screamed

The added girth was too much, you came, squeezing hard on him which in turn finished him off

He bit your neck as he came, filling you as his knot continued to swell

As you two relaxed, he carried you over toward the chair and placed it upright

He set you down on the edge, holding you steady until his knot shrunk

While you waited, he kissed you, biting your lip and drawing a tiny bit of blood

Finally he got to taste something delicious, all the soldiers tasted nasty and sour

When he pulled out, his cock made a loud pop sound as the suction released, leaving you feeling so incredibly empty

You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and whined

“Don’t worry, your heat isn’t over yet. There will be plenty more chances for nights like these,” he said as he straightened himself up

He carried you out before the police could arrive and see the carnage

His shoes were a bloody mess, but it was nothing compared to the floor

[degrassi-fanatic]

Window Sill

As Kakashi wanders through the streets of Konoha, absentmindedly flipping through the pages of Icha Icha Tactics, he hears children’s laughter ringing through the alleyways as a familiar brown and blue blur races right past him, towards the direction of the hospital. 

Shaking his head, Kakashi laughs softly at their antics; Konohamaru really is just another Naruto.

 And just like Naruto, he’s about to be beaten half an inch from death.

 As he predicted, in the distance, Kakashi can hear Sakura-chan shout, followed by the loud crack of a chakra enhanced fist and the sounds of Konohamaru and his little gang of delinquents wailing in pain.

 He’s about to sprint off towards the hospital to save the children from Sakura’s rage when he notices Ebisu’s already halfway there, shouting something like “Just because you can fix bones, Sakura-san, doesn’t mean you should break them.”

 A wave of nostalgia washes over him. It only feels like yesterday when Kakashi had to be the one to stop Sakura from giving Naruto permanent brain damage from a grade 3 level concussion.

 Speaking of the little punk, Kakashi senses his familiar chakra pattern not too far away. 

 Shutting his book, he turns around only to bump into the younger man, who seems to have been standing only a hair-breadth away from him. Naruto looks uncharacteristically nervous as he darts his eyes everywhere and anywhere that isn’t Kakashi’s own. 

 “Naruto.” he greets, as he takes a step back to put some space in between them.

 “You were in ANBU, right, Kakashi-sensei?” Naruto asks out of the blue, wringing his hands out in front of him. 

 Dread begins to build up in the pit of his stomach. 

 There’s only one reason why Naruto would be so anxious asking about Kakashi’s time in the ANBU forces.

 In his whole life, Kakashi had never expected for Naruto to figure him out. He had always operated under the assumption that Naruto was simply young enough for those memories to have disappeared as he grew older, or that his ANBU commissioned mask was enough to hide his identity, or that maybe Naruto would simply learn to let the matter go. 

 It goes without saying that he’s a fool for believing in that last one.

 “Yes.” Kakashi answers back, a touch wary.

 “Do you know who Hound is?”

 The question confuses him to no end. 

 Why on Earth would Naruto ask Kakashi who Hound is? Was it some weird tactic to get him to tell the truth? Was it a last chance to own up to everything? Doesn’t Naruto know that Kakashi is…

 That’s just it, Kakashi realizes, Naruto doesn’t know that he is Hound. 

 He doesn’t know that it was Kakashi, who up until Naruto had entered the Academy at the age of eight, had been spending every available night in between his ANBU mission with him. 

 “Hound?” he pretends to ponder as he tilts his head to the side, “Why do you care about him?”

 Suddenly, Naruto drops his chin down to rest at his chest, his hands curling up into fists as his whole spine does ramrod straight. 

 He mutters something under his breath but it’s unintelligible, even to his heightened sense of hearing. 

 “Sorry?” Kakashi asks, as he leans in closer to listen. 

 “He used to take care of me.” Naruto mumbles out. 

 When Naruto was still only a baby, Kakashi remembers standing guard inside of his nursery. Sometimes, when he would wake up in a crying fit, Kakashi would either have to bottle-feed him milk or rock him back to sleep. Other times, the only thing that would soothe him would be the hushed stories Kakashi would whisper to him about his parents and all their feats. 

 Afterwards, when Naruto had begun to totter around, Kakashi remembers having to keep watch from the window. It worked well up until one day, when the boy had flung open his window in the middle of the night, giggling at the sight of a masked man outside of his bedroom. Naruto tugged and tugged at his arm, whining about wanting to play, until Kakashi had no choice but to climb inside. 

 The openness of his actions had made him worry because surely Naruto was old enough to understand that letting in a stranger was dangerous but, his worry was outweighed by the sheer amount of trust that was offered up to him when Naruto continued to open up his window for Kakashi.

 Unfortunately, all of those nights spent playing with Naruto and his toys came to a screeching halt when the boy turned eight. 

 Naruto  enrolled into the Academy, and Kakashi never bothered coming back to his window. 

 “He was the only person who— he was the only one beside the Sandaime, who used to hold me and play with me and… yeah.” Naruto explains, kicking at the ground, “He never talked, which was weird, but I guess that just made him a better listener.”

 It felt like the Earth had stilled beneath Kakashi’s own two feet.

 Kakashi was the only one to hold Naruto?

 “The only one?”

 All Kakashi gets in terms of a response is a shrug of his shoulders. 

 “Y’know, when I was little,” Naruto reminisces with a small grin, “He used to bring me toys from wherever he had his missions.”

 It was Kakashi’s favourite thing in the whole wide world, seeing little Naruto’s reaction to all of the toys he had brought back for him; a physical reminder that no matter where he went or what he was doing, he was always thinking about Naruto. 

 His smile had been Kakashi’s only motivation when it came to staying alive. 

 Every night, Naruto would sit by his window sill, waiting in anticipation for Kakashi to come back from a mission. The two of them had even created their own special password and as soon as Naruto would hear that quick three-two-three knocking pattern, he would throw open the window for him. 

 A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

 “Hound, he, um, he stopped coming by once I got into the Academy.” Naruto continues.

 The phantom smile on Kakashi’s face vanishes as he fights back a flinch at the reminder of his actions.

 “At first, I thought he was just caught up in a mission but then days became weeks, which became months, and soon a year went by and I realized that he was never going to come back.”

 “Do you miss him?’ Kakashi asks quietly.

 “If I’m being honest, I’m pretty pissed at him,” Naruto explains, clenching both his jaw and his fists, “He just left. He didn’t bother explaining why, and eight year old me just had to deal with it, deal with losing one of the only people in the world who cared about him.”

 Blinking back tears, Kakashi cannot bear looking at Naruto right now, so he averts his gaze to the ground. 

 “I’m sure he had a good reason.” he lies. 

 “Yeah, well, no reason is good enough for me,” Naruto spits back, “So, if you can’t tell me who Hound is, can you at least tell him Naruto is still pissed after all these years?”

 “I will.”

  It seems as though Naruto has given up on his mission to find out who Hound is because weeks pass by without incident and without Naruto popping up to have any more startling conversations about the past. 

 Kakashi is really starting to believe that Naruto has finally learnt the art of letting go, only to be proven extremely wrong when he’s shoved up against a tree. 

 Naruto’s arm is pinning his shoulders against the harsh, splinter-y bark of the tree trunk, while his other arm goes to rest beside Kakashi’s head to maintain balance. 

 He’d commend Naruto on his improved sneak attack skills, if it weren’t for the fact that his precious, signed copy of Icha Icha Tactics is page-first in a pile of dirt. He’s a moment away from yelling some sense into that nonsensical head of Naruto’s when he notices the stream of tears dripping off of his jaw.

 “He’s dead, isn’t he?” he asks, his voice cracking, “I’ve been stalking you for two weeks because I desperately wanted to know Hound was, and you haven’t met up with anyone that could be him.”

 It’s in that moment that he comes to the overwhelming realization that he needs to come clean; it’s either that or let Naruto experience more pain than necessary, and Kakashi will always do anything in his power to prevent the latter.

 But, how do you tell one of the most precious people in your life, that you have deceived them? 

 “Naruto…”

 “That’s the reason he stopped visiting,” Naruto says, gritting his teeth, “It’s because he was dead and no one thought to tell me and now I have to mourn someone I never really knew all because—”

 “It’s me, Naruto,” he blurts out, “I’m Hound.”

 For a minute or two, nothing happens as the anguish on Naruto’s face dissipates. He studies Kakashi’s own face, presumably for any signs of deception or lying. 

 Then, as if a whirlwind erupts from within him, Naruto grabs Kakashi by the collar, hauling him off the tree and throwing him onto the ground. Before Kakashi can scramble to get up, Naruto climbs over his body and wrenches his fist back behind him.

 Within a second, he feels a burst of pressure at his jaw, followed by the unsettling clashing of his teeth in his own mouth. Faintly, he tastes metal and with some poking and prodding, he realizes he’s accidentally bit into his own cheek.

 “You jerk!” Naruto cries as he slams his fists down into Kakashi’s chest, “Why didn’t you tell me! Why did you stop coming around! I used to cry myself to sleep because I thought you finally realized I was a demon!”

 His punches grow weaker and weaker by the second until soon Naruto is collapsing atop of Kakashi, hiding his face in Kakashi’s neck like he used to when the other kids were being especially cruel that day. 

 “Hey, hey, shh,” he murmurs as he strokes the back of Naruto’s head, “ You did nothing wrong, okay?”

 “Well, it felt like it.”

 Kakashi’s chest caves in on itself. 

 Before he can say anything else, an explanation, an apology, anything, the warm weight atop of him is gone. He can only vaguely register Naruto mumbling out a shunshin no jutsu.

 Soon, all he’s left with is a puff of smoke.

  Days keep adding up until it’s been more than a week without Naruto giving Kakashi the time of day, and for once, it’s not because of the lack of trying on Kakashi’s part. In fact, he’s attempted all sorts of plans to get the man to even look at him. 

 He bought enough ramen from Ichiraku’s to last him a lifetime, he tried to entice him with promises of teaching him a new jutsu, he bought him a brand new orange jumpsuit, hell, he even swallowed his pride and tried to enlist Sakura’s help only for her to shake her head while softly telling him this was something he needed to do on his own. 

 It’s a complete mess and one he wishes he weren’t so concerned about cleaning up.

 And he wouldn’t be, if it weren’t for the simple fact of the matter that Kakashi misses Naruto and he misses his company and his stupid ramen and his stupid orange jumpsuits. 

 Sulking as he strolls alongside the bank of the river, Kakashi kicks pebbles into the water while he thinks up various ways to get Naruto to talk to him. 

 Konohamaru could maybe help him out but, then again, he’d probably side with his big brother Naruto on the matter at hand. Perhaps, Sai or Gai could help, they seem level headed enough to come up with ideas that could work. Actually, Sai isn’t well versed in emotions and Gai would just say something about the Springtime of Youth. Tenzou, maybe…

 While deep in thought on what to do, Kakashi doesn’t notice a person walking in front of him, until he barrels right into them. Before the person can fall into the river, Kakashi catches them by the wrists and drags them in close. 

 Looking down, he realizes it's Naruto that he's caught. 

 Once he’s made sure that Naruto is safe from losing his balance, Kakashi takes a step backwards. Awkwardly, he shoves both his hands into his pockets as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

 “Thanks.” Naruto mumbles out, his cheeks burning. 

 For longer than he’d like to admit, Kakashi debates with himself on what he should say to the man in front of him. 

 “Y’know, you have to talk to me some time.” 

 Immediately, Kakashi cringes at the words leaving his mouth. 

 “You stopped talking to me for four years and were going to spend the rest of our lives lying about it.” Naruto accuses, the flush on his cheeks now being a result of anger rather than embarrassment.

 His heart aches at the underlying pain he can hear in Naruto’s voice. Without thinking twice, Kakashi reaches out for Naruto’s arm. 

 “I’m sorry, if you’d let me explain—”

 He’s cut off by Naruto knocking his hand away.

 “I don’t need to know why you left,” Naruto says as he begins to walk away, “My brain can fill in the blanks.”

 “Whatever you think my reasoning was,” Kakashi explains as he follows Naruto, “I promise you, it’s not.”

 All of a sudden, Naruto stops in his tracks, only a few short steps away from reaching the dirt path back to the village. He whips around to glare at Kakashi, his eyes lighting up with fury as he raises an accusatory finger in Kakashi’s direction. 

 “Did you even want to be my sensei?” Naruto questions as he takes a step towards him, “Or were you disappointed when you realized the kid you ditched years ago was your student now?”

 “I wanted to be your sensei.” he says earnestly, but it seems as though Naruto isn’t even listening to him. 

 “Why did you bother coming around if you were just going to leave?” Naruto snarks out as he shoves his finger into Kakashi’s chest, “Was it me? Did I drive you off?”

 “No, just let me—”

 Before he can get another word out, he watches as all of the ire and all of the incendiaries building up inside of Naruto fade away, only to be replaced with a bone-deep sense of weariness that should never be worn on the face of someone so young.

 “You want to know something, Kakashi-sensei?” he asks, not looking for a real answer, “For the longest time, I used to wonder if you ever thought about me, if you saw potential in me or if you just saw me as a roadblock for Sasuke and Sakura’s success. I used to wonder if you even liked me.

 “Now, I know my answer.”

 How could Naruto think that? How could Kakashi let him think that? 

 For a second, it looks like Naruto is about to say something else but then he simply turns around and continues walking in the direction of the village. 

 Remaining where he is, Kakashi stands still as he stares at Naruto’s back. 

 “Minato-sensei and Kushina-san had just died.” he says, the name of his parents causing Naruto to halt, “Rin and Obito had died before that. My parents long before that.”

 Twisting his neck to look over his shoulder, Naruto meets Kakashi’s eyes; a puzzled look on his face

 “But, you were still alive.” he continues, “Up until you were eight, I could keep you safe. You weren’t a shinobi. You didn’t have to take orders from higher up. You didn’t have to go on suicide missions. You were okay.

 “Then, you entered the Academy and suddenly, I couldn’t protect you anymore.” Kakashi croaks out as he scrunches his eyes closed, “I couldn’t face the possibility of losing you so, I left. Like a coward.”

 Naruto doesn’t say anything else so Kakashi assumes that he’s already gone and left but then he feels a pair of arms hook around his shoulders and the telltale tickle of Naruto’s hair against the side of his face. 

 Letting out a ragged breath, Kakashi returns the embrace, fighting back the onslaught of tears in his eyes. 

 “Thank you for taking care of me.” Naruto murmurs into his ear.

 “Thank you for not dying.”

[plaidbooks]

Hi! Could you please do a detective Sonny and reader where they’re both kidnapped together? The reader volunteers herself to be hurt/etc. to protect Sonny? It leads to them eventually disclosing their feelings for each other before being rescued by the team.

Bartering Pain

A/N: Oh Anon, you’re after my own heart with this prompt! I live for this (cause I’m a SLUT for angst!). This gets kinda heavy, but I hope you still enjoy!

Tags: torture, knives, stabbing, attempted rape

Words: 2897

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

It was your partner’s, Sonny’s, day off, but you were still texting him, keeping him up-to-date on some of the cases he was missing. After some back and forth, you eventually offered to bring him some files and notes, bring him up to speed in person rather than over text.

“You stay safe, [y/l/n],” Olivia warned. “Text me when you make it to his place.” She didn’t need to say why, and you didn’t ask; there was a small group of unknowns who were furious with the NYPD. Officers had been disappearing off the streets, only for their bodies to be found weeks later, bloodied and broken.

“Will do, Lieu,” you replied, smiling. Grabbing all the files you needed, you headed out of the department, your gun on your hip.

 ********************

You buzzed Sonny’s intercom when you made it there, and he said he’d come down, meet you outside. He was quick down the elevator, smiling as he saw you. “Hey, hun,” Sonny greeted. He gave you a hug, which you happily returned; you and Sonny were close, best friends—even if you wanted something more—and you were both big huggers.

“Hey Son. Here’s those files on the Williamson case.”

He nodded. “Perfect. Why don’t we go up, chat about it there?” Before you could respond, there was a sharp pain to the back of your head, and then everything went black.

 ********************

Groaning, you squinted your eyes open, the room fuzzy around you. You were sitting in a chair, your hands bound behind you and your legs attached to the front legs of the chair with duct tape. There was a splitting headache behind your eyes, and you had to blink a few times to clear your vision. You were in a plain room; the walls used to be an off-white color, but were now covered in grime, dried blood splattered randomly. There was a plain door on the wall across from you, but there were no windows, no other furniture…except for Sonny. He was slumped in a chair in front of you, bound as you were, blood leaking down the side of his face from his temple. He hadn’t yet awoken, but his chest was still moving—he was alive.

“C-Carisi,” you murmured, then louder, “Carisi!” But he didn’t stir, his head lolling on his chest. You looked down at your bound legs, trying to struggle against the tape, but it was futile. You vaguely noticed that you no longer had your gun nor your phone, and the panic started to set in. Stay calm, you thought; panic wouldn’t help you here. Besides, you never texted Liv—she had to know something bad had happened. And, in paranoia, your Lieutenant also forced you all to carry around SMS chips, hidden in your shoe so that the department could find you in case of this very thing.

“Carisi!” you tried once more before the door opened. You watched as three men came into the room, all burly men of Hispanic descent, but unfamiliar to you. They were unmasked, which was bad for you—they didn’t expect you to survive, to ID them later.

“Well, well, someone’s awake,” one man said, sneering at you, the door shutting behind them. He had a short knife in his hand, the blade maybe 2 inches long. You swallowed as it glinted in the light.

Your eyes went from the man who had spoken to Sonny, then back to him. “Let him go—he’s not a cop. He’s—he’s just a friend I was visiting.” The blood on Sonny’s head was already making your heart hurt, and you had seen the crime scenes of the officers who were found. You couldn’t let that happen to your partner.

The man came closer, playing with the knife in his hands. “You hear that, boys? We must’ve made a mistake. Apparently, this is not Detective Dominick Carisi Jr. with Manhattan SVU, in the 16th precinct.” Your heart sunk—they must’ve memorized the department…but, if they were outside his apartment, was this a hit?

The man sauntered up closer, until he was right in front of you. He twirled the knife in his hands before gripping the hilt, looking you directly in the eye. “Don’t. Lie. To me,” he growled before he sunk the blade into the top of your thigh in one smooth motion. You cried out in pain, the sharp steel gliding through your skin easily. Sonny stirred, but was still out. The man let go of the knife, leaving it sheathed in your leg as he gripped your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Listen, you little bitch; you and your partner are going to die today. That’s just a fact. Now, the more you piss me off, the longer I’m going to draw this out. So, please, piss me off.” He wiggled the blade, twisting it in you, and you whimpered.

Sonny let out a low groan as he came to, rolling his neck as he opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. His eyes locked to the knife in your thigh, then to your face as he jolted against the duct tape binding him.

“Get away from her,” Sonny snarled, his voice low. His eyes weren’t completely focused, and you knew he had a concussion.

One of the other men went over to him, saying, “oh don’t worry, there’s enough to go around.” He cocked back his arm, then punched Sonny in the face. The force of the hit pushed him onto two legs of the chair, and the man grabbed it, pulling him back onto all four.

“Hey! Leave him alone! H-hit me instead,” you said through gritted teeth. Sonny locked eyes with you, shaking his head slightly, blood trailing from his split lip. But like hell were you going to let them hurt Sonny…your sweet, kind Sonny….

“No, let her go—” Sonny started but the man leaning over you cut him off.

“Q, shut that prick up. I’ll take care of this one.” You only had a moment to see the man—Q, apparently—punch Sonny once more in the face before you got a fist in the cheek. Your teeth rattled in your head, and the ache behind your eyes exploded into pain.

The third man, who had been quiet this whole time, finally spoke up. “Come on, T. Let’s just kill them before their team finds us.”

“Relax, D. The NYPD has been fucking useless in trackin’ us down—they won’t find us any time soon. We can afford to have some fun,” T replied. He gripped the knife still lodged in your thigh and yanked it out, blood seeping out of the wound. It didn’t seem like a lot of blood, so you were hoping he had missed your arteries. You glanced up at Sonny, eyes locking to his. He looked…scared, still working his arms against the duct tape. The wound at his temple had reopened, fresh blood trailing down his face and onto his shirt, and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. The fear was setting in; you were going to die here, weren’t you? But, if you could stall just long enough, maybe Liv could find you guys…or at least Sonny….

T looked between you two, noticing your stare. “You both work sex crimes, huh? You know what would be really fun?” T murmured. You had a sinking suspicion you knew where he was going with this, and you start to pull at your restraints. This just made T smirk, and he looked over at Sonny. “How long have you two worked together? 2 years, right? I bet you’ve pictured her naked before.”

Realization passed over Sonny’s face, and he was struggling so hard, the chair was scooting across the floor. “D, you hold whitey’s chair, make sure he watches this. Q, why don’t you get a little taste first?” T ordered, motioning him over. “You can have her loud mouth; I want her filthy fucking cunt.”

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Sonny yelled, fighting desperately to get free.

T brought that sharp knife under the collar of your shirt, cutting away at the material. You pulled away from him as much as you could, instinct taking over as you tried to retreat. But in your haste to move away, the knife sliced into you, and you whimpered at the fresh pain, the blood tickling you as it trailed down your skin. Q came to stand behind you, resting his big hands on your shoulders and holding you still as T finished cutting your shirt off your body.

“You can go first; I can wait,” T smirked at Q before looking at you. “You bite him, and—” he placed the knife against your throat— “it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” You froze, your body going stock still as the sharp blade bit into your skin.

You looked across the room at Sonny, who was still fighting the restraints. There was a wildness in his eyes, a deep fear as he pulled hard, and then there was a deafening pop, and Sonny screamed in pain, his left arm going limp behind him as he slumped forward. The sound of his pain ripped your heart in two, and you sobbed silently as you watched him sit in defeat. Chest heaving, he pulled his head up, eyes locking to yours, tears in his eyes as he mouthed the words, “I love you.”

Your heart clenched and you mouthed them back, tears sliding down your cheeks, the blade of T’s knife pushing against the skin of your throat. You stared into Sonny’s bright blue eyes until Q’s body blocked him from your view, standing over you, straddling you, his bulge directly in front of your face.

Disgust welled up inside you, and you fought the urge to vomit. At least this was happening to you, and not Sonny; you couldn’t imagine sitting there, watching this unfold, unable to do anything.

His hands went to his belt, undoing it quickly and shoving his pants down, his boxer-covered erection mere centimeters from your mouth. With T’s freehand, he grabbed your jaw, forcing your mouth open. Q grabbed the waistband of his boxers, a huge grin on his face.

There was a loud crash as the door was slammed open. Q dove to the side off you, and T pushed the knife against your throat, sinking the blade in deeper as he screamed threats, but he was cut off by a gunshot, his limp body falling away from you. You took a shuttering gasp as the pressure from your throat was now gone. You frantically looked for Sonny, for the security of his bright blue eyes. He was still sitting across from you, eyes wide, in pain, but also such relief. Olivia, Fin, and Rollins were behind him, as well as a slew of ESU officers, all armed to the teeth. They quickly cuffed Q and D, Liv coming towards you.

“Take care of Sonny first…please,” you begged, your voice weak. But Fin was already there, cutting the duct tape at his wrists.

“It’s okay; you’re both okay,” Liv murmured, going to work on your own restraints. Once your arms were free, Liv handed you a jacket to cover yourself, then went to work on your legs. “We need EMTs in here,” Liv called out, examining your wounds. As soon as you were free, you shakily pushed yourself out of the chair, weakly stumbling towards Sonny, who still had one leg duct taped down. Fin freed him just as you got to him, and Sonny pushed himself to standing, wobbling a bit, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side.

Letting out a loud sob, you fell against his chest, clutching at him desperately, ignoring everyone else around you. Sonny let out a low grunt in pain, but held you close, stroking your hair with his one hand. “You’re okay. You’re safe,” he whispered into your hair.

“We’re safe,” you sniffled back, nuzzling into his chest.

The EMTs came into the room quick enough, leading you and Sonny out of the room and towards the ambulances. But you couldn’t force yourself to let go of Sonny’s side, suddenly afraid that you’d never see him again, no matter how ridiculous that was.

“We need to take you to the hospital,” one of the EMTs said, trying to pull you away from him, but you clung on, unable to explain your fears.

“It’s okay, doll. I’ll see you at the hospital,” Sonny murmured, kissing the top of your head.

You shook your head. “I-I can’t leave you, Dom. Please,” you replied.

“There’s not enough room on the gurney for both of you…don’t make us sedate you,” the EMT warned. You sighed as you let them put Sonny in the back of an ambulance, his eyes boring into yours before they closed the door on him, then led you to your own ambulance.

 *****************

The stab wound in your leg had missed your arteries, needing only a few stitches, while the cut in your shoulder and along your throat were shallow. You had a mild concussion from the hit to the back of your head and you were in shock. Sonny had a more severe concussion and a dislocated shoulder, plus a split lip, but was otherwise fine.

After you were stitched up, you grabbed your IV stand and forced yourself to your feet, wandering the halls, looking for Sonny. You needed to see him, needed to know he was alright. Rollins had found you stumbling through the hospital, drugged and dazed.

“[y/n]? What are you doing out of bed?” she asked. She had two vases of flowers in her hands; tulips, with little balloons saying “GET WELL SOON”.

“S-Sonny,” you mumbled, and Rollins nodded, gesturing with her head and leading you down a hallway. She hurried into a room, coming back out without the vases, wrapping her arms around you and helping you into Sonny’s room. He was still asleep, the pain meds flowing through him.

Amanda deposited you into a chair, standing next to you, still looking concerned. “What were you doing wandering around? You shouldn’t be up yet—”

“I needed to see him, Rollins. I-I needed to know he was okay,” you murmured. You felt weak, and you hated it, but you felt better, safer now that you could see Sonny, alive. Amanda looked confused, but you didn’t know how to explain it. “I…you weren’t there. You—don’t know what we went through, what it was like in that room….”

She nodded. “You’re right; I wasn’t there….” She stood then. “I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you two alone, come back later.”

You smiled your thanks, then returned your gaze to Sonny’s face. You could still hear his ear-piercing scream when his shoulder had popped out, could hear the threat in his voice, see the danger in his eyes when he said, “don’t you fucking dare touch her!”. Your heart strained; you were glad in the moment that the kidnappers had taken it out on you. But now that you sat and thought about it, them torturing you probably hurt Sonny more than any physical wound ever could. You couldn’t imagine sitting there, unable to do anything as they hurt Sonny, but Sonny had to endure that with you. Tears in your eyes, you reached out, grabbing his hand.

Slowly, Sonny’s eyes opened, a small groan leaving his lips. “[y/n]?” he asked, voice raspy.

“I’m here, Son. I’m safe—we’re safe,” you whispered.

He gave you a small smile, his hand turning over to interlock his fingers with yours. But the smile faltered as tears clouded his vision. “I-I thought we were gonna die in there. And—and you were almost…almost—”

“I know, Son. But I wasn’t. And we didn’t. We’re alive and we’re safe.” The tears were in your eyes now, and you blinked at them, trying to stop them from falling.

“I’ve…never been so afraid in my whole life; I couldn’t even think to pray. I could only think about you, trying to distract them from you,” Sonny said softly, closing his eyes, letting a few tears fall. He opened his eyes, locking them to yours. “I-I love you so much, and I couldn’t take that—” his voice broke as he sobbed.

You couldn’t stop the tears that spilled down your cheeks. “I-I love you, too, Son. I was…I could take it, if it meant you were spared. I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

He sniffled, trying to control himself. “But I couldn’t take it—watching you get hurt was the worst pain­—"

“I know, Son, I know. I can…still hear your shoulder….”

Sonny grimaced. “We…we have to move past this; stop living in that room. We’re safe, we’re okay. Let’s start there, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. Standing, you leaned over him, giving him a wet, slopping kiss, the salt from both of your tears mingling. Sonny wrapped his good arm around you, his lips desperate on yours, as if he’d never get the chance to kiss you again. Reluctantly, you sat back down, unwilling to leave his bedside, unable to go back to your room. You knew this would take time, and a lot of therapy to work through it, but Sonny was safe. That’s all that mattered.

[spicysoftsweet]

For the Last Time - Chrollo x Reader

** NSFW **

A/N: Basically Chrollo pops the news that he’s leaving to reader but not until he does one last thing. 

---

You looked into Chrollo’s eyes, biting your lower lip and holding back tears as you took in the words he’d just said. 

He was leaving again, and this time he wouldn’t be back. Your fists clenched. Should you feel better that he at least warned you this time? No, it was only right that he did because this was a goodbye truly for good.

Chrollo gave you a sad smile, noting the frustration you were trying to seal within and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, steadying your shoulders.

“I’ll always love you.”

Your cup was already too full of the lies he poured into you, and those last few drops were enough for you to overflow. You shoved him off of you, tears swimming in your eyes. He must have been taken aback because he let you push him aside, crossing his arms over his chest in a relaxed fashion. He was always so relaxed when he riled you up like this, you hated it.

“You liar!” You yelled. “The Troupe? Maybe. Yourself? Absolutely! But you have never loved me, I’m sick of tired of your lies!”

With that, you fell to your knees in a heap and began to sob profusely. He watched you carefully for the next few moments, taking in the sound of your sorrow but almost as soon as you started, he decided he had enough.

“___, get up.”

You didn’t move, trying to wipe your tears with the back of your hands but they were falling too quickly. He knelt down besides you, thumbing the wet streams away from your eyes and kissing your eyelids.

Your pounding, furious heart began to slow for him; his touch always had such a calming effect even if his words did the opposite. But you were still upset, and you communicated so.

“What was it all for if you were going to come into my life just to waltz back out?” You accused. You couldn’t exactly say that you didn’t know this day was eventually coming. He always hinted at it, after all. But still, so soon? He was cruel. 

“You’re right.” His fingers caressed your face again. “I am a terrible person.”

“You are,” you replied quickly, still with a twinge of upset in your voice. He smiled - if you were talking, you could be reasoned with. Or more importantly, convinced. He capitalized on this opportunity as it would be his last one and moved to the next phase of his farewell. He brought you to your feet holding your hands and pressed his lips to yours, reveling in their salty taste from the tears. 

Was it sadistic if he thought your lips were softer and sweeter when you cried? 

His hand traveled down to the small of your back and then beneath the hem of your pants. The look in his eyes was both distant as though he were looking through you and centering as though you were the only person who mattered on Earth.

“I’m terrible enough that I want to taste you one last time,” he whispered into the side of your neck. “I know that you’re mad at me, but will you bless me one last time?”

He didn’t wait for your answer before he started to leave love bites down your neck and along your collar bones but you knew your answer was always yes. As he leaned down to kiss your bosom, your hands roamed down to what lay between his legs. Once your hand gripped his firming member, he left your chest sharply with a short, barely audible gasp and went for your lips again, forcing his tongue into your mouth while his fingers curled around your neck to keep your head steady. He was moving forward now, backing you into the wall and your kiss continued to deepen as he caged you in.

You opened your mouth to moan his name and he seemed to force his tongue even further down your throat making it hard to speak. His hand went into your pants again, palming your entire cunt in his hand.

He pulled back just slightly so that your lips still grazed together.

“Take these off for me, darling.”

You did so quickly, then leaned forward to pull his pants off too, greeted by his now fully erect member. You licked your lips greedily and took the tip in your mouth, falling to your knees as you sucked. The soft moan he let out as your lips made contact encouraged you, and you took more of him in your throat, running your arm up and down his chest beneath his shirt. Still moaning softly as you bobbed up and down, he pulled his shirt over his head then preoccupying himself with fingers playing in your hair. You took him as far back as you could in your throat, swirling your tongue around the hard cock in your mouth and he let out a groan before his hands gripping your scalp.

“____, you’re criminally good at this,” he sighed out.

It’s the last time anyway…  you thought, but rather than saying anything, you smiled and rose to your feet to kiss him. He hoisted you in his arms instead, then carried you over to the bed where he could fuck you in earnest. And fuck you he did in a slow, then fast then almost desperate pace. His fingers then interlaced with yours as his strokes got deeper and his grunts more frequent and spaced out. It was a little less like the way he usually ravished you, almost like he too was frustrated.

Like he too wanted to stay. 

Like he wanted you to remember that you were his.

Hovering above you as he delivered his strokes, he tilted you just so, making sure that he could hit you right at the spot that made your toes curl and somewhere deep inside your pelvis burn with a fire that yearned for him.

Stay. Don’t go. Remember me.

Your soft mewls turned into moans as he sped up again. And then unexpectedly, he took both of your legs onto his shoulders and hooked his arms around them to keep them in place, penetrating you so deeply you cried out, tears coming to your eyes.

“Ah! Chrollo! It’s ah-” Your insides quivered and shook, you were in so much of a daze from the influx of sensation that it was hard for you to express what you wanted next. Did you want him to stop? No, never stop.

You continued to cry out his name as he bent your legs further and further back.

“Keep saying my name, love. I want it etched in my memory,” he said in a low whisper.

You tipped over the hill of pleasure into deeper bliss and your lower half started to quake, and immediately, he dropped your legs to wrap his arms around your midsection, holding you tight as you came so hard your peripheral vision seemed to blur. His cock still remained hard inside you as your walls clenched tightly, and he let the waves wash over you before he finally sped up, chasing his own high.

When he finally reached it and you felt the warm gush of fluid jetting inside of you, and seeping outside, he swept the hair out of your flushed face, damp with the excitement from your tryst.

“I’ll miss you,” he whispered.

And you cried because for the first time, you were absolutely sure he meant it.

[remmushound]

Mud Dogz Rising, chapter 1: Leonard

@scentedcandlecryptid

Content warning: Death, meat, blood, violence, child violence

The day started off as any other day. First came the lights, blindingly bright and enough to wake any creature no matter how deep in slumber. Then came the echo of the daily ration crashing down the metal chutes and into each cell in equal portions. In one of the chambers slept a groggy ogre who, upon the lights turning on, curled her lips into a low growl and tried to block out the worst of the brightness. From the warmth of her bosom another far smaller ogre had a similar reaction, whining and pressing himself tighter into the warmth of his mothers body. The resistance wasn’t kept for very long, however, before the tiny ogre cub raised his nose to the air to breathe in the delicious smell of meat.

From the safety of his mother, Leonard crawled over to the pile of meat slopped carelessly on the ground, a small puddle of blood pooling around the raw flesh; to the young ogre, it was like pure honey nectar. He brought his muzzle to snuffle at the puddle before lapping at it. The warmth of the meal made him eager to eat more of it— maybe a little too eager, as he fell face-first into the pile and sank deep into it. In alarm he squeaked his panic, which made his mother finally open her eyes to see what was bothering her son, and then she rolled her eyes at his predicament.

She took her sweet time waking up, stretching and popping all the sore joints in her body on her way over. She scooped up her son around his belly and pulled him out with an effortless tug, rumbling at the sight of the cub more red than green. She sat on the floor with him on her lap and began to rasp a long, spined tongue across his face and bowl-cut hair.

“Leonard, you have to be more careful.” His mother gave a sharp nip to his ear.

Leonard wiggled himself free so he could climb up to his mother’s broad shoulder and tug at her ear with all the ferocity of a lion cub; his mother ignored the attempts at savagery as she started to dig into the daily offerings. Eventually Leonard fell off of his mother and tumbled to the cold stone with a grunt, splooting for a moment before shaking his head and finding his footing. A drifting feather caught his attention and he fell to all fours to follow it in a clumsy stalk, jumping up to bat at the stimulation and catch it in two tiny hands. He fell to happily chewing on the feather, tiny fangs clacking as he worked to devour his caught prey. It didn't taste very good, so he tried to spit it out; it stuck to his tongue like glue no matter how he gagged.

His struggle eventually led him to flopping down to sit, his hands propping him up as he faced the enclosure beside his— the cage that the feather had come from. The nice yokai in the other cell was still sleeping, which confused Leonard because, if the nice yokai was still sleeping then how could they have given him a feather? They had done it before, but they were always awake when they did! The cub frowned and crawled over slowly on all fours, sticking his nose between the bars so he was just close enough for the feathers of the Yokai to tickle his nose. They smelled weird…

He felt a powerful hand come carefully to cup his back and looked up to see his mother standing over him, her tongue swiping over her lips to catch falling juices while her eyes held a gentle softness in them. She knew that scent, that dark, rotting stink of death, but Leonard didn't, and he didn't understand why his friend was still asleep when it was wake-up time.

“Come on Lenny. Come eat while it’s still warm.” She left him after that to return to the meat pile.

Leonard lingered, his eyes still locked on his feather friend. Then he felt a sharp pull on his neck that made him cry out in genuine pain, cold metal digging into his throat and tugging him off of his feet. He was yanked out of the cell faster than his mother could clear the distance to get to him, the door closed before she reached him and causing her to slam head-first into the metal. Leonard didn't know what was happening; all he knew was that he was forced into a tiny cage where he could barely move around, and he was being pulled away from his mother as she called out for him, but the one that had snatched him didn't care about her cries or his. Leonard screamed. He screamed and cried and wailed until his voice was nothing more than a horse whisper and his body didn't let him cry anymore. He was hungry now, with no milk and no meat, and to make matters worse the Taker had tossed a sheet over his cage so he couldn’t see a thing!

Leonard didn't know how long he was in that cage too small to move around in, but it was enough time to make his stomach hurt without a meal to fill it. To pass the time and try to lessen the hunger, he eventually went to sleep, only to wake when the cage was lifted and started to move with a terrifying loud trembling as he was wheeled across tile. Then he was lifted again and taken into someplace loud, very loud, and so bright that even the sheet did little to stop the light. It smelled bad here too, just like his nice friend had smelled.

The sheet was ripped from the cage to let brightness flood in with a roar of applause. Leonard didn't know what applase was, but it was loud and it was all around him and there was nowhere to go but in circles. A gloved hand grabbed him around the scruff of his neck and some part of him made him so limp because the only one who would have been carrying him like that was his mother, but this didn't smell like his mother! And the touch wasn’t gentle like his mother either.

A heavy collar was strapped around his neck, enough weight to make him collapse to the ground unable to move from the pressure. Beyond the bright spotlights he could see nothing; nothing but cheering silhouettes surrounding him on high-raised seats. On the opposite side of this large, dusty place where he was chained, he saw a door open, and through that door a massive silhouette slowly lumbering out into the space. An ogre? Leonardo strained his senses to be able to smell anything beyond the sand burning his nose. This ogre wasn’t his mother; it was a male, like him, only bigger. A lot bigger.

“Yokai of all kinds!��� The woman’s voice seemed to be all around him, incredibly jovial and bubbly, “The games shall begin shortly. First in the ring is the lovely Dre The Destroyer! And that lovely little cub you see there belongs to Fearsome Felis, who will be joining us shortly. I know you have your choice of arenas, so I thank you for choosing the Battle Nexus!”

The big, lumbering ogre was nearly upon him now and Leonard could see him more clearly now; dark olive skin decorated with scars, powerful tusks jutting from his mouth and a ridging horn across his shaven head with several peaks. Leonard gulped at the pure size of him, and the rottenness of his hot breath as the ogre bull brought his face down even to Leonard’s, lips curled in a grin. Leonard covered his head with his hands and started to quiver.

“M...mama! Mama…”

There was a roar, and a collision Leonard didn't witness. When he opened his eyes he saw another ogre in the ring, an ogre very familiar to him! His mother was smaller than the other ogre, but that small fact didn't stop her from engaging in the battle tooth and nail with everything she had. Tusks slamming together, claws ripping at each others flesh, bodies pounding into each other!

While the savage sounds of the fight raged on, that sickly sweet voice just kept going, “Now, Fearsome Felis will be well-known to some of our more frequent fliers, but to all those new to the games, she is one of our prized ogre and has been in the ring her whole life! Today just so happens to mark her five hundredth round in the arena and, should luck be on her side, this will be the three hundred and eighteenth win of her career! We find that our fighters fight hardest when certain… motivation is put in place. The instinct to protect the offspring makes her fight thrice as hard!”

Leonard didn't like it. He didn't like the fighting and the growling and the roars and the blood— the yells of his mother as she was hurt and the rebuking injuries she inflicted. He didn't know how long the battle went on, but eventually his mother had come out the victor, the male laying defeated and bleeding in the dust, and she made her way back to her son while the crowd roared her name.

“It appears that our lovely Felis is the winner! Remember folks, this is only the first of several rounds we’ll be featuring tonight, so please take the time during this brief interval to indulge in the many confectionery stands scattered about the grounds. We will resume the games in ten minutes.”

“Mama…” Leonard whined, grabbing desperately at the air when his mother got close. She was staring down at him with eyes that seemed almost cold, and they made Leonard even more scared. “Mama…?”

Felis snarled at the cub, and she lunged at him with no mercy in her eyes. Her jaws latched around Leonard’s neck in a crushing pressure. Those still in their seats gave loud gasps and some of them even screamed, and pretty soon all of them were screaming but Felis didn't care. She crushed the cub's body between her teeth until he went limp, and then she ever so casually carried him to the center of the arena and dropped him on top of the first body.

Licking blood from her muzzle, she looked around at the stunned crowd and said, “There. You can’t use him against me anymore.”

~~~

All casualties of the Battle Nexus Arena ended up in the same spot; the barge just outside the colosseum, where aquatic yokai thrived and would make quick work of the bodies once they were dumped. When closing came and it was time to dispose of the day's destruction, a swarm was waiting at the chute for the fresh kill. The bodies were dumped, and the yokai all fought over the rights to the best pickings of the day.

One small, brave mermaid took a tentative taste of an ogre cub by nipping his ear and ripping a small part of it off. With the pain of the injury, the cub’s eyes shot open and he tried to give a pained yowl, but all that resulted were bubbles that made the skittish swarm scatter. The ogre looked all around and then, propelled by instinct, kicked up toward the surface.

When he felt cold air on his face the first thing he did was breathe to sooth his burning lungs. Then he went back under, but not of his own free will. On the small glance he got of the world above he had seen a shore and so that was where he struggled to. Eventually, his feet met soft earth and he was able to crawl out of the water completely and collapse on the muddy shore.

[capriccio-con-espressione]

Checkered Skirt

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1330 words

Warning: Sub!Hendery, Dom!Reader, Spanking, Cross-dressing, Use of pet names, Oral sex (male receiving), Pegging, Overstimulation, Sexting at work, Hendery is whiny and horny

A/N: This fic is based on an ask as well as this pic (tho slightly altered). Originally planned to make this a brief drabble but I went overboard again, anyways I hope sub!Hendery feeds the lust of the sub!idol community and mine. 

  When is Mistress coming home to take care of her needy pup’s problems?🐶

  A message from Hendery popped up on your phone screen while you are still bombarded by tedious paperwork you just want to rip through, exactly like how much you want to rip off your boyfriend’s clothes, and his whiny messages certainly aren’t helping.

  Be back in half an hour. Stay put. You warn

  😣😣😣. Came Hendery’s immediate reply. How about this?

  A sinful photo then leaps into your screen, in which Hendery posed in front of the mirror in his black leather collar with “Y/N’s pup” inscribed on it, and he is dressed up in a dark checkered shirt with a matching mini skirt barely covering his crotch, not to mention his hard-on. A pair of black knee-highs accentuated his lean figure wickedly perfectly, and the fact that he is kneeling on the around with his slender legs spread wide open, his hand around his clothed shaft, just fuels your frustration even more.

  Fuck you. You reply, irritated by the provoking sight.

  Language 😜. You feel as if you can hear his mischievous laugh even you are a screen apart. You always disciplined me for this, so why are you breaking your own rule?

  I follow no fucking rules in my house, pet. You sharply retort. But you’re right, you’re so getting properly disciplined again for this. You’d better be in your position once I am home. Understand?

  You then ignore his message affirming your order since you are in fervent need of getting your work done as quickly as possible now, and you swear your fingers have never worked this hastily on your keyboard before. Soon you find a shortcut to complete your workload, and in no time you are at your doorstep, satisfied by the sight in front of you.

  Hendery is on his hands and knees, his barely clad butt poking out as he’s gazing up at you with a naughty glint in those large piercing eyes, as well as a paddle between his grinning lips, his cock glistening with need.

  “Well, well, well.” You crouch down to his level. “Whose pretty puppy is this hmm?” You coo as you take the paddle out of his mouth, grazing his jawline with it.

  Before he can respond, you give a harsh yank on his hair, taking no time to force him up, dragging him to bedside table and quickly bending him over, before securing his torso onto it.

  “You don’t whore up while I am at work.” You hiss into his ear before landing a smack on his skirt-covered flesh with the paddle, the fabric buffering the sensation before he gets the taste of the real deal you’re up to, teasing his senses as well.

  “You don’t talk back to me like you know better than I do.” You chastise in between rough fervent spanks. “Last, “ You lift up his skirt, toying with the hem while caressing his freshly beaten flesh. “your Mistress follows no rules since I am just superior by nature, get it, slut?”

  “Ow-! Y-yes, Mistress-ah!” Hendery’s reply is interrupted by another sharp smack plus a lick on his buttock, as you proceed to suck and nibble on the supple flesh as if you’re enjoying your favorite meal, while your boyfriend is already a moaning squirming mess at the humiliating yet intimate feeling.

  “Mistress hnnnghh you feel so good…ahh...”  

  “Really?” You breath on the back of his cock. “But do puppy whores like you deserve to feel good hmm?” You inquire before lashing out with your paddle again.

  “Ah-no! Ahhhhh...I don’t deserve...ahhhhhh!” 

  “Care to explain why you don’t deserve to be pleasured?” You purr while caressing his hot skin, pinching his inner thigh from time to time, earning grunts from your sensitive boyfriend.

  “B-because I...I’ve been so bad…”

  “Bad is an understatement.”

  “Hahh...cuz I’ve been a horny pup wanking in heat...mmmm” His voice trails off into incoherent noises once you muffle him with a deep kiss, your palm lightly and sensually spanking him as he erotically moans along with each slap.

  “Such a depraved little pup…” You lovingly peck him before untying him and flipping him over on the table. “I’m gonna destroy you until those pretty doggy eyes of yours are all glossy and hazy...crying out to your Mistress for mercy…”

  “Destroy me then. Mistress.”

  You then bend down to moisten his shaft with your tongue, with your fingers busy lubricating his entrance before gradually adding them to stretch him. Hendery’s mesmerized, moaning loudly as he’s both serviced and humiliatingly intruded.

  When you finally reach up to unbutton his shirt, he attempted to take off his skirt. “No, keep that on, I prefer you partially nude, looking so disheveled and vitiated…” You continue as you exposed his nipples, planting sloppy kisses on them with one hand caressing the region still covered by the skirt, toying and pulling with the fabric, while the other hand is still busy fucking him deep and slow.

  Soon you are fully equipped with your strap, driving deep into his prostate with your free hand tangled in his silky strands, pounding into him hard and fast. 

  “F-ffuck puppy harder pleeaase…” Hendery pants as he pleads, fueling your pent-up lust even more as you pick up your pace, causing him to moan out even more lewdly. When he’s closer and closer to his peak, not only did he clench tighter against your ruthless cock, but also his sock-clad legs are wrapped closely around you, the smooth fabric turning you on as you can’t help but compliment how pretty he looks right now.

  “Such a beautiful fucked-out pup…” You lock your gaze with his, watching his expressions that are overwhelmed by extreme pleasure, before diving in for another round of wet sloppy kisses again. Sounds of contacting lips and entwining hips are interspersed by a few smacks on his ass, driving both of you insane and nearing your edge.

  Shoots of hot white liquid are followed by a series of broken cries, but you still relentlessly drill into him like a hungry beast ravishing its first ever meal in days. Hendery’s teary but also surprised gaze locks into yours, yet he can do nothing but indulge in the building pleasure over and over again as he cums twice in the next few minutes.

  “Please...please Mistress I can’t take it anymore...you are too good…”

  “I thought that’s what my filthy pup wanted hmm? Getting its insatiable needs completely filled…” You say as you wickedly pump his now ultra-sensitive dick.

  “Ahh-no! Please Mistress I-I am s-sorry for... riling you up earlier pleeaasee…stoppp” Hendery’s pain is evident in his struggle with words.

  “Really? Isn’t it my puppy who begged me to destroy him?”

  “Y-yes I was a s-slutty pup...but now Mistress please spare me I can’t take no more…” Hendery begs with tears that threaten to fall

  Satisfied with his realization of his proper place, you release your grip on his cock and replace it with soft, reassuring kisses all over his body, before wiping away the excess fluids on his belly as well as his tears, then you go on to remove his cum-stained clothing.

  “This is a reminder that you should never wear skirts again unless you want it wild and rough just like today…” You smirk as you present the dirtied spots on the checkered skirt to him.

  “You’re such an insufferable pervert.”

  “Look who’s talking!” You fail to hide your triumph behind your feigned indignation in your tone, before ditching those clothings in the laundry bin and returning to cuddle with Hendery back on the bed.

  Though there is total silence between you, your now tired boy’s arm is wrapped around your waist the whole time before he finally drifts off to sleep, leaving you mesmerised in thoughts of how lucky you are to have a man that is so compatible with you as your boyfriend.