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#road to freedom group
garadinervi · 2 years
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Bartolomeo Vanzetti, Background of the Plymouth Trial, Road to Freedom Group, Boston, MA, 1926 (pdf here) [STARS – Showcase of Text, Archives, Research & Scholarship, UCF Libraries Special Collections, University of Central Florida Libraries, Orlando, FL]
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smutoperator · 3 months
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Underwater
Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader
Tags: cheating, diving, fingering, Hawaii, mermaid, multiple cumshots, pool, titfucking, toplessness, (plenty of) underwater sex, vacation
Word count: 4800.
Eunbi had enjoyed her vacation in Hawaii a lot. Experiencing new things with her best friend Minju and staying very far away from home had been a very pleasant experience for her, as she could eat new kinds of food, discover new activities, hang out along the beautiful Hawaiian beaches, and practice her hobby of scuba diving.
The fact that Eunbi and Minju had traveled in the winter to Hawaii, at the lowest season, meant they faced no crowds and were able not to rush anything in their trip experience. So much so that the two girls had now become the only two people left in the hotel. As Minju took a walk with her manager to explore some places, Eunbi now had the hotel all to herself.
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Eunbi rested on the chair, wearing her favorite black bikini. The wintery sun of Hawaii was fairly weak, but enough to give her pale skin a little extra tanning. Eunbi then jumped in the pool, taking her water-proof camera with her as she started recording her diving and swimming under the water.
Minju was still a couple hours away from coming back, meaning Eunbi could be a little riskier. Knowing nobody was around her, Eunbi took some extra freedom, removing the bra from her bikini and getting herself topless in the pool. As the sole guest in the hotel, Eunbi was now just enjoying herself, going multiple times to the border of the pool and taking big jumps that made her fully-free boobs jiggle like jelly every time they touched the water. Eunbi looked like a sexy, stacked little mermaid as she navigated the entire pool under the water. The way her body, especially her hair, tits, legs and ass, moved was cinematic.
As Eunbi emerged from her long underwater dive, a bit of water splashed off the pool. But she was no longer alone, as a guy resting at the side of the pool appeared, his shirt now soaking wet thanks to her sudden reemergence happening in front of him. Eunbi panicked a little bit on the inside but tried to stay calm and use her problem-solving skills as an experienced woman who once led 11 girls on their road to stardom, instinctively covering her boobs as soon as she saw the man. "I'm sorry, I thought I was alone and no new guests would come to the hotel until 2 PM," she said, trying to explain the situation to the man without looking embarrassed.
"No need to be. I arrived earlier; sorry for disrupting you." You treated Eunbi very gently, making her calmer instantly. In the end, you were also shocked at how such a tiny woman could carry such a massive chest yet perform all those moves while swimming, as you didn't know anything about Eunbi's decade-long career as a well-rounded idol, the leader of a group that sold millions and is now pushing towards a solo career. She was just that short but very pretty girl you just met a minute ago at the pool of a hotel.
"You're so kind; how about you join me at the pool?" Eunbi politely asked as you put your tall body inside the pool while still fully clothed, sitting at the first step as you looked into Eunbi's eyes. You trembled a little as the water was quite cold, but Eunbi was already fully acclimated to it. Eunbi bumped her huge chest against yours, unveiling her real intentions as soon as you jumped in, giving you a first kiss you didn't know how to react to. 
"Can I touch them?" you asked, still shy, regarding Eunbi's massive knockers. "Of course, do it as you please; as you can see, I'm very proud of them," Eunbi said back. You placed your right hand on her left boob, groping it softly. Eunbi climbed up a step at the pool and put her tits right in your face, as your hands were now joining your mouth in her right boob. You then firmly grabbed both, alternating between sucking each of her breasts. Then you buried your face on her torso, licking it all the way up to her neck.
Eunbi spiced things up, holding her left boob right in your mouth and letting both of you tongue her nipple while kissing each other. She then placed your head between her breasts and let you motorboat her, stopping it as she placed her hands on your neck and pushed you further into the pool. Eunbi sat on your lap to show off more of her body, as she was much shorter than you, who could get yourself on your knees and still have your head appear over the water. You firmly grabbed her big tits and continued to suck them just as you had started at the pool's border. 
However, your little mermaid already had her next move in mind, as Eunbi detached from your body and started swimming away from you before moving back and yanking your shorts down in just one move. You were impressed at how such a short girl could be so strong. as Eunbi was now swimming fully underwater. The frigid waters meant your cock was still flaccid, but Eunbi was about to change it in a hurry, as just her strong touch was enough to activate your erection despite the adverse conditions. Fully submerged and on her knees, Eunbi looked at your boner with lots of lust, taking it in her mouth as soon as she could. 
You watched as bubbles came out of Eunbi's mouth and nose. Her cock-sucking felt like a shark biting you under the water. "Damn, how can she do this with such ease?" you thought. Eunbi wasn't holding anything back, already inserting your cock deep in her throat from the get-go. When she finally ran out of air, she emerged kissing you, but with her right hand still masturbating your manhood.
It didn't take even 5 seconds before Eunbi was submerged again. You loved the way her wet hair waved under the water. You had never had any sexual activities under the water before, yet there was this tiny girl with big boobs giving you deepthroats underwater without even flinching. As Eunbi increased the heat in your crotch and you acclimated yourself to the water temperature, you took your shirt off and got yourself fully naked.
Eunbi abandoned her kneeling position and was floating and swimming, giving you a view of her firm ass and her strong thighs in motion as she continued to suck you off. You took a more active approach this time, thursting up to start fucking her mouth. Once again, Eunbi barely flinched and invited your challenge with open arms, performing an underwater gag as she pushed your cock as deep in her mouth as she could, and more bubbles came out of it. Eunbi then got back on her knees and pushed harder, sucking your cock more and more violently while bubbling under the water.
Eunbi had stayed a full minute and a half underwater, but it didn't even take two seconds before she was ready to go again. This time, Eunbi stayed on her feet even if the pool's depth was basically her height, slowly sliding down until your shaft finally aligned with her tits. Eunbi enveloped your cock like a sausage between a pair of buns, smirking every time your throbbing tip emerged out of her fun bags, her hair touching the pool's floor as she increased her tits grip at each fucking. You start moving your hips as Eunbi closes her eyes to not let the sun hit them, taking a more passive approach and letting you have fun with her knockers.
As Eunbi emerges after a minute-long underwater titfucking, she kisses you and already thinks about her next step, making sure her hands don't give your cock a single second of rest. You want to appreciate her massive boobs you just fucked, jiggling them with your hands before you suck them like a needy baby. Eunbi moans a little as she takes her thong off for your cock to impale her pussy. You grab Eunbi by her ass, pushing your hard phallus inside her as water comes out of her cunt. Eunbi bounces slowly as she moans. She never thought one of the new experiences she would take from Hawaii would be getting screwed underwater. She tries to slowly adjust to it as she clings onto you, feeling lots of friction in her pussy. 
You try to increase Eunbi's arousal by jumping your mouth right into her tits and sucking her erected nipples. You're now in control, pumping harder and deeper each time inside her walls. Eunbi tries to put her feet at the border, but you push her closer to the center of the pool, increasing the difficulty while banging her faster. 
"Put that big finger in my ass," Eunbi demands as she has yet to adjust to underwater penetration, trying to heat herself up. It turns out it works perfectly. As soon as you spread her cheeks and put your middle finger up in her anus, her initial pain goes away. Your left hand now grabs her right boob alongside her right hand, while your right hand stays underwater, poking her tiny asshole. "Nice boy sticking your finger in my tight ass, ahhhh. Oh God, your cock is so huge." Eunbi was feeling it as you pounded her with your erect 7-inch, her tits now fully underwater as she was just enjoying you doing all the work.
You pulled out of Eunbi but kept your finger stuck deep in her asshole, sensing that she enjoyed it a lot. Eunbi submerged her head halfway underwater as you lifted her right leg for an easier entrance in her pussy, holding the entire weight of her body in your cock and her left leg that barely touched the floor. Eunbi had to remerge as soon as you inserted your prick back in her cunt, grabbing her right thigh, now fully lifted in the air. She found that position to be much more enjoyable, giving you the loudest and hardest moans she could. You groped her left tit hard while letting the other one freely bounce, kissing her while doing so.
Eunbi was now essentially floating as the pounding got harder. You fingered her pussy, leading to faster and more acure moans that got even better once you stuck a pair of fingers inside it alongside your cock. Eunbi was now very weak as her body started to drown, her big tits dropping almost at your navel. You pushed her up, never taking your cock out of her pussy, giving her a pair of long and deep thursts to help her move up. Eunbi, however, was really enjoying it, as she ducked her head underwater shortly after to watch your cock beautifully pump her pussy, even if her huge tits were blocking most of the view and the mauling you were giving her meant she couldn't last long without going back up.
Eunbi took your cock out of her fuckhole and dove her body fully underwater, grabbing your dick by her right hand while upside down, starting a blowjow under the water that quickly evolved into a 69. Bubbles came out of her tightened mouth every time she pushed your cock up. The heat you put in her pussy and the pounding she had just taken were too much, as she lasted for just 30 seconds before going back up. You pushed yourself to the border and caught her by surprise, already inserting your cock back in, before she adjusted for a better angle, pounding her in reverse with your right hand, making fast moves around her clit while her boobs freely jiggled at each thurst you gave her. Eunbi bent over a little, as you now grabbed her by the shoulder, and she played with the water, putting her mouth just at the pool's level to release bubbles on it.
"Damn, that big cock is stretching me so good," Eunbi said as you now locked her hands on her back, pushing her up and letting the little waves of the pool hit right between her tits, who were bouncing so hard she had to grab them with both hands to keep them contained, before realizing it was futile as the harder you pumped her cunt, the more out of control those melons would get. You were the only one who could keep them in control every time you placed your hands in those magnificent Eunbigs to grope them.
You bent your knees just enough so Eunbi's body could be fully underwater, increasing the pace of the pounding while doing so. You now wrap your hands around Eunbi's soft but toned belly, touching it, and wonder what it would look like with a baby inside. You were engaged but had never felt such an urge to have kids with your fiancé, as you would rather wait to consummate your marriage first, but as she recovered from the jet leg at your dorm, you were having thoughts of impregnating someone else. Eunbi was getting completely ragdolled underwater as your left hand wrapped around her tits while you had all your right-hand fingers except the thumb inside her cunt, which was now wetter than the water itself.
You sat on the pool's floor as you grabbed Eunbi's body, thursting upwards like a piston in a car motor, but hitting Eunbi's "valve" every single time as you could only hear her moaning through bubbles popping out of the water every time your cock reached her cervix. Eunbi's juices coated all over your cock as you kept poking her pussy with your fingers, holding her tits as she started having an underwater orgasm. You pushed her head up to hear her fast and loud moans, increasing the speed of your hands in her clit, before pulling out and using her tits as a "washer" for her juices (not like you needed it), putting Eunbi on her knees as you slid your cock between her juicy melons.
Eunbi ducked her head underwater to lick your tip every time your shaft reached the top of her chest. You watched everything from above, in awe at her beautiful silhouete that made her look like a statuesque black-haired mermaid. Eunbi was so deep in the pool that her hair was below your navel once she took your cock fully in her mouth before finally needing to get somewhere. She turned around and swam away from you, moving back to the border of the pool and reaching the three steps that were there. Her tits rested on the upper step while she placed her hands on the middle one and got her knees in the deepest one, bending her ass over to you.
You gave Eunbi's little trimmed bush a tap as you put your cock back in her pussy. Gosh, she looked amazing on all fours, perfect to get pounded balls deep like a submissive toy. And you did just like that, smashing your balls against her meaty clit from the start. Eunbi was back at her strongest now and could take it with ease despite having her head underwater. You wish you could hear any words coming from her sexy mouth, but every time she bubbled under the water, you just assumed she wanted you to go harder.
"Bury that big dick deep inside me." Eunbi emerged, saying those words and proving you correct. You leaned your weight against her body, making her scream at each thrust, always giving a good amount of attention to her milkers. "Perfect, keep going; hit me just like that," Eunbi approved as she dived back in to watch your cock stretching her cunt out, letting out a big smile you weren't able to see. You went rougher, mounting on Eunbi as your cock pounded her just at water level, making big splashes and waves every time you went in and out of her pussy.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," was all Eunbi could say as the water waves hit her clit at full speed alongside your cock. Eunbi fingered her cunt as your balls hit her nails, her tits sagging as gravity pushed them down underwater while her erected nipples perfectly pointed to the floor. Eunbi descended to watch the scene underwater, holding herself just by her left arm as you grabbed her right tit with the same hand, then freeing herself to watch her melons bounce right on her face, beding her whole body in a full arch.
"Holy shit you're so flexible. How did you manage not to fall while I was fucking you?" You were amazed by Eunbi's skills. "Well, I've been a dancer since I was a teenager. And just like a mermaid, I can sing too, even Underwater" she said. "I've been here for nearly half an hour and didn't even ask your name," you said. "Eunbi. Kwon Eunbi," she replied. "Are you from Hawaii?" you continued. "No, I come from Korea," she answered back.
As you too chatted a little and discovered more about Eunbi's career, you learned how she started as a backup dancer who climbed all the way up the ladder, joined a group called "Eyes One," and now has become a solo act in Korea. Her story was quite compelling to you, but her hands massaging your cock were even more so. Just like she did during her career, Eunbi climbed up the pool's steps, this time ready to sit on your big cock, sliding it in with ease as she gave you a passionate kiss and you grabbed her ass.
But you want to test Eunbi's recently discovered dancer flexibility and see if she was truly a mermaid like she claimed to be by pushing her back into the water. She reacts instinctively, placing her left hand at the border and her right foot at the step, while her left foot lands at your shoulder as it lifts in the air. "I know you can float, my little mermaid; let's also see how high you can moan—I mean, sing," you tell her. Eunbi is a little scared but starts to detach from her supports, floating in the water as you stare at her eyes and put your left hand in her waist and your right hand in her boobs.
Eunbi is up to the challenge, even the hardest. It's in her personality. After being the second mother to 11 children, this is easy for her. She takes a deep breath and dives her entire body underwater, leaving just her legs up as you hold her by the waist. After all, she had been training for years to be a diver. Eunbi covers the sun from reaching her eyes with her beautiful black hair. You start pounding her in missionary as she lets out a massive moan that shakes the whole water surrounding you. Eunbi gets to the bottom of the pool, placing her hands at her clit as she lets your thursts press her against the floor, every moan now leading to massive bubbles coming out of her mouth.
It turns out that this is much more difficult for you than it is for her. Your grip on her body is way loosier than at the other positions, leading your cock to slip out a couple times. You grab Eunbi's thighs as she gives you a helping hand to insert your cock back in. Eunbi just watched as you pushed her body closer to her while her jiggly boobs continued to bounce even all the way deep in the trenches of the pool. Eunbi now had her head fully rested as she took a huge pounding. You stared at her fit belly and massive tits, imagining what they would look like with her carrying a baby.
Eunbi finally ran out of air but still managed to be strong enough to not let your cock slip out as she emerged, taking control as you sat on the middle step and she started to ride you. Eunbi made splashes in your cock at each bounce while you searched for her asshole to finger once more. A helicopter flew over your heads, making a lot of noise, but you barely paid attention to it as Eunbi mermaid-esque singing moans were much more attractive. She then switched sides, riding you in reverse as she held her hands on your chest while hers couldn't stop bouncing. Eunbi then let you take control as she lied her tiny body on top of you, letting you splash her clit each time you thursted up into her pussy.
"Harder," Eunbi said just this word. It was enough for you to understand as you groped her tits and pumped her with all your might. Your thrusts were now so hard that they were splashing water all over Eunbi's hips and even her belly. Her tits got spanked, fondled, slapped, and pressed as you used your whole arsenal of moves to please Eunbi's best assets.
"Let's get some sunlight." Sensing you two had stayed long enough underwater, Eunbi looked for something else, heading towards the same chair from which she had started the day tanning herself. Eunbi got herself in all fours, screaming as soon as your tip touched her sensitive walls. The exposure to the sun seemed to have unlocked many more powers in your mermaid, as while her pussy was much easier to penetrate now, it also got much tighter. Eunbi invited you to fuck her as hard as you could, firmly grabbing her butt as you went full force deep into her pussy.
You rewarded Eunbi for her tightness as you let her taste the juice from your cock. Her shark-biting blowjob was still present above the water, as her mouth was warmer than ever. You couldn't resist her warmth and went on to fuck her face, grabbing her by her wet hair before she took a few turns sucking your balls. You kept Eunbi in the same position as your cock felt like it was about to explode each time you got to the depths of her pussy. You pushed her body a little upwards to let her boobs bounce harder. 
"Oh, that's good. Give that big cock to me, deep inside my pussy," she whispered to you, holding your right hand as it grabbed her ass. You couldn't see much of it underwater, but now you had a full view of how meaty her pussy lips were. "Put that magic finger up my ass; please my ass as you fuck my pussy harder," Eunbi demanded as you inserted your large thumb in her tight anus. "Harder, harder, harder," a whispering out of breath Eunbi said, twisting around the chair as her boobs got grabbed.
"Please cum all over my face," she said. Mermaids truly could predict the future, given that as soon as you said those words, a rush hit your cock, forcing you to pull out quickly to meet her demands. "Give me your face," you said as your seeds hit Eunbi's cheeks and lips, with some even going to her hair or being wasted on the floor. Your cock still released a few drops of cum long after the first burst, almost as if Eunbi's pussy had given it a massive boost.
"Turn around," you demanded of Eunbi, letting her tits now face you. Despite just cumming, you looked more insatiable than ever, grabbing Eunbi's right leg and lifting it up as your left hand rested in her belly. Your desire to put a baby on it had reached its maximum, making you forget any thoughts about your fiancé. You only wanted Eunbi. But just like her, you had to climb a long ladder. "I know you still got some cum in there, baby. Next, I want you to cover my tits," Eunbi demanded, griding her teeth as you looked at her face full of your dried-up sperm.
"Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper," she kept repeating in an almost militaristic manner. You wanted to disobey her orders and just finish inside her, but you knew she wasn't an ordinary woman and you would be in trouble the moment you didn't follow her instructions. "GIVE ME ALL THAT COCK, OH GOD!" Eunbi screamed, sensing your second shot was just moments away. "Make me cum; make my pussy explode all over your cock. Make my pussy cum, AHHHHH," Eunbi kept asking as you pressed her fully lifted right leg into her nipples. You were hitting her best spots, and her pussy was indeed about to explode. "Right there, right there," she kept repeating, telling you where to hit the correct spots.
"Can you feel that pussy squeezing all over your cock? Push it all the way in. Earn it." Eunbi wanted you to prove to her that you were among the best. You started getting out of breath, feeling as if Eunbi's pussy wrapping your cock for nearly an hour had drained half the years of your life. But Eunbi just wanted you to keep pushing, worried at the prospect of Minju arriving at any moment and finding her in such a position as she was expected to come in around 15 minutes.
You closed Eunbi's legs and pushed your cock from behind, fixating your thoughts on the jiggles of her tits. You were almost there. "God, you're growing; your cock is getting bigger." Eunbi wasn't lying, as her mermaid powers had turned your 7-inch into a 9-inch the longer she went under the sun. "Make me cum," she was the one saying it, but you were the one who was ready to unload, as Eunbi dropped her back at the chair, giving you an amazing full-body view that was too much for you to handle: her wet hair, her cum-covered face, her massive milkers and big areolas, her round belly, her little bush, and her bikini marks.
Eunbi sat and put her tits at your shooting range, grabbing them so gravity couldn't drop them down. "Come on, give it to me," she demanded as you groaned, ready to shoot. Her left boob got most of the milk, with even a bit slipping into her side tattoo, while the right one only got a few sparks. Eunbi grabbed her cum-covered melons, licking your white protein from her left tit. She got back on all fours and then ordered, as soon as she got your cock back into a full erection with just a single, powerful mermaid deepthroat, "Stick that big dick deep up that cunt until you cum.".
You couldn't even last 10 seconds this time. Eunbi's pussy clenched your cock so hard you painted her walls with semen in a snap. Never had you felt such a powerful ejaculation; your foreskin burned, your glans were so hyperextended it felt like they would explode at any second, the veins of your shaft bled, and you felt like she would never let you pull out, as her walls bit you like a shark to a point you felt like they would slice your dick in half. When you finally managed to, your once powerful 9-inch dick had been pulverized and athopied into a soft and sorry excuse of a cock.
"I guess we meet again later," you said, trying to hide the embarrassment you felt of your short dick that had been fully drained by that little powerful mermaid. As you disappeared out of Eunbi's sights, a beautiful, foxy girl arrived. Eunbi greeted Minju, who responded with a kiss on her cheek, right at the point where you had ejaculated on her. "Unnie, I think there is some white cream on your face," Minju said. "My bad, Minju, I had forgotten I had just taken more sunscreen," Eunbi lied.
For you, there was no next time. By the time you returned to the hotel's public area, Eunbi was gone. Maybe she dove back into the cold and deep waters of the Pacific Ocean and went back to her mermaid life. But you were never the same. The vacation you made to propose to your fiancé became about a tiny girl with big tits who was the only thing you could think about. Every time you looked at the hotel's pool, flashes of Eunbi invaded your head.
You reluctantly proposed to your fiancé in Hawaii, but as you arrived home, you had already taken an U-turn, as she spotted you booking tickets to Korea by yourself without telling her. "Why are you going to Korea? We just had our vacation," she asked.
"I think we should take a break," you said, packing your begs and heading to Korea, enchanted by the serenades of a little mermaid.
I decided to do this one as a gift, off-schedule smut. I have been thinking of doing a smut of Eunbi in Hawaii since the moment she announced her vacation with Minju, but wasn't finding the plot. The moment I saw her in that bikini, it finally came to my mind. Although @thelibrarian69 beat me to it and did a smut using the same pool scenario just a couple days ago, I think our smuts are fundamentally different, as I tried to put more emphasis on the underwater sex stuff and the characterization of Eunbi as a mermaid, while also adding references to her career. Since "Underwater" is literally Eunbi's signature song, no one better than her to be the protagonist of a smut that mostly takes place underwater.
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jessicalprice · 8 months
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I think the thing that most Christian atheists who are rebelling against authoritarian Christian backgrounds don't get is why Jews remain Jewish.
Like, I get it, you engaged in your practices because you were told that God would punish you if you didn't, because you're told you're supposed to fear God.
(Incidentally, we don't even use the same language about this. The term that gets translated in most English bibles as "fear" is, like many classical Hebrew words, a lot more multivalent than the English term, and has more of a connotation of "awe." (See, for example, the Gilgamesh dream sequence: "Why am I trembling? No god passed this way." A god is something in whose wake one trembles.) It's what one feels when one is faced with something bigger than oneself, something overwhelming. For some people that may be fear of being harmed. For others it may be wonder or even ecstasy, standing outside oneself.)
But in 2023, Jews have the option (and, indeed, still the cultural pressure) to completely abandon Judaism. Very easily. We can, in fact, do it quite passively. If we're not actively trying to engage with it, it will very much drift away from us.
And it's not fear of divine punishment keeping most of us engaged.
The thing is, if you proved to me tomorrow that God doesn't exist, I'm not sure anything about my life or my practice would change. (I'm already agnostic, so *shrug*. I don't believe in a God-person. Sometimes I believe in a unity to reality, a life and a direction to it. Sometimes I don't. I just don't have the arrogance to think I understand definitively the way the universe does or doesn't work.) I still would celebrate Shabbat, I still wouldn't eat pork, I still would have a mezuzah on my doorway.
I do all that stuff because I'm Jewish, not because I think God will get mad if I don't. I do all that stuff because it's part of a cultural system that I see as wise and life-giving and therapeutic and worth maintaining.
And the thing is, the cultural system that Christian antitheists want us to assimilate into, under the guise of "getting rid of religion", is very much a white Protestant culture. It's not culturally neutral. It has practices, and it has a particular worldview, and it has cultural norms that are just as irrational as any other culture's.
It's also very telling that Christian antitheists purport to be harmed by Jews continuing to be Jewish. Why? We don't impose our norms on anyone else, and we overwhelmingly vote (and organize, and engage in activism) against the imposition of Christian "religious" norms, such as the curtailing of reproductive freedom, blue laws, etc.
So you're only "harmed" by our continued existence in the same way Christians purport to be harmed by it: by claiming that the very existence of a group that doesn't share your worldview and practices is somehow an act of oppression against you.
Which is, you know, white supremacist logic.
You're still upholding the logic of Jesus's genocidal, colonial Great Commission even though you supposedly don't believe in the god that ordered it anymore.
That's gotta be one of the saddest things I encounter among my fellow humans.
You took down all the crosses in the church of your mind and chucked them out the window, but you still refuse to step foot outside the church building, contenting yourself with claiming it's not a church, and firing out the windows at the synagogue and mosque down the road, the same way you used to.
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Astarion & Scratch: Compromising for Tav Affection
This idea is entirely from @nairil-daeris and it's so cute!
~
Despite what some may have believed, Astarion wasn't that against associating with animals. He was actually a fan of a few of them, cats mainly considering their penance for cleanliness and independence. Not to mention they were admittedly adorable. And stood as the one type of beast that Astarion never feasted upon.
So no, he didn't hate animals in principle. He only hated a select few, with reason. Like the type that could rip him apart with their claws and fangs. Or the ones that thought that rolling around in their own filth was a worthwhile pastime. All and all, creatures that Astarion didn't have to deal with on the regular. Or at least not until now.
But here he was, stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere, with his ragtag group of merry weirdos. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his own acceptance into your little group. He did, immensely. By the look of things out here in this hellscape, he probably would have been murdered ten times over if he had remained alone. Or gods forbid, become a goblin's chew toy.
So while he had no intentions of leaving, he was still frustrated. Especially with the pretty little druid that quickly became their de facto leader. Astarion had been vaguely aware that druids had an intense love for nature and all of its creatures. But that hadn't prepared him for how unreasonable that love could be. It felt as though you would take literally every opportunity you had to speak to any lowly pest on the side of the road.
Not to mention your insistence on taking care of a damned owlbear cub, which was an objectively stupid thing to do. Something that he should have fought you on harder but... he wasn't made of stone. The thing was objectively adorable. Even if it was almost certainly destined to grow up and try to kill you all, Astarion kept his mouth mostly shut.
But then came the dog. That god-damned dog. How a singular mutt could make his life so damn difficult, Astarion wasn't sure. But he did know that he was trying to enact a well-thought out plan. Seduce you, foster a protective affection that was strong enough for you to always want him alive, perhaps use you to defeat Cazador if the parasites proved strong enough, and then effectively abandon you for a new life of freedom.
It was all very simple, and he had gotten a great head start. You had spent the last few weeks flirting with each other, always staying close. You gravitated towards each other, a fact that felt more natural than Astarion would have liked. But... he had found himself enjoying his time with you, genuinely. Not that it mattered, but it was definitely a plus for his plan. Being with you was far from unbearable. You were attractive, sweet, a little angel just begging to be corrupted. A job that Astarion was growing excited to start.
He had been so, so close to fully propositioning you, completely confident that you would agree. And then Scratch happened. He hadn't thought much of it when you came across the little mutt. Maybe it would stay with the corpse of its owner or it would be another hanger-on like the owl bear. He hadn't had a horse in the race either way.
But then he did show up to the camp, looking so sad and dejected that even Astarion couldn't be bothered that his arrival completely interrupted his first attempt at asking you to bed. He had watched you pet and whisper to him for the rest of the night, providing a comfort that only a druid could.
Which was fine. Or at least it had been for that one night. That one night that kept repeating. Because suddenly, that damned dog was everywhere. The quiet nights the two of you had together by the fire, talking about anything and everything with your thighs pressed together now included Scratch squeezing himself into the middle.
The orchestrated moves he would do to make you blush, like removing a non-existent speck from your cheek with his thumb or leaning in close to remove a leaf from your hair, were getting harder and harder to pull off. The damned mongrel was always there, and any attempts Astarion took to get close to you Scratch used as an invitation to jump all over him. If he had it to wash his face of dog slobber one more time from the crime of trying to hold your hand, he was going to go ballistic.
And there was zero reprieve. The thing went with you everywhere, even in the most perilous of situations. Worst of all, it actually proved to be useful. Astarion had no idea where the thing was trained, but it was incredibly smart. Smart enough to serve as a perfect distraction when needed, while being clever and fast enough to never get himself killed. He could even function as a spy, considering how you could make sense of all of his whining and barking. And worst of all, the little beast was amazing at thievery, with nothing more than his mouth. No one suspected the adorable dog to be the one stealing your coin purse right off of your belt. He was completely inconspicuous, perhaps even more so than Astarion. A fact that... was not sitting well.
How on earth was he being outclassed by a fucking dog? One that he had no valid arguments to leave behind at camp.
And to top it all off, you even slept with it. You slept with both animals, usually huddled up in a pile beneath the stars. How you managed to not stink of dog breath and owlbear saliva in the morning, Astarion would never know.
How was he supposed to make you fall for him like this? In the past two weeks since you'd attached yourself completely to the thing, doting on him constantly. He had only managed to sleep with you once. The night of the celebration over the goblin slaughter, and what a lovely night it had been. But that was only because Scratch and the cub had been sufficiently distracted by all of the enamored tiefling children. The next night it was back to the same.
And Astarion was not willing to let the night you had together go as a one night stand. Maybe it wasn't necessary. It had become clear that you cared for him, you cared for all of them. Enough to put yourself in danger for every party member's protection. A strong friendship would probably do him just as good as a romance. But... that didn't feel like enough. He didn't want it to be enough. For reasons that he was not going to start examining now.
No, for now he was just focused on getting past your slobbery bodyguard. But he knew better than to bring it up to you directly. You were far too infatuated with the pup to see his side of things.
Gale had made a singular comment on a slight frustration over having to wait around for Scratch to sniff nearly everything he came into contact with, and that had ended in you giving him a half-hour lecture on the importance of understanding one's surroundings. Shadowheart had mentioned, once, just once, that perhaps it was time to start looking for a more appropriate family for the dog, and that had led to you giving her the cold shoulder for days.
No, if he was going to get more time alone with you Astarion would have to try other means. Which had led him here, swinging back a Potion of Animal Speaking with a grimace. It tasted oddly grassy, like he had just swallowed blended up lawn shavings. But he didn't have time to grouse over the taste, not when you were thoroughly distracted with talking about druid mythology with Halsin, Scratch left conveniently alone to dig holes in the back of camp.
And that was where Astarion was going. Because if he couldn't reason with you, perhaps he could reason with the mutt itself.
Part of him could not quite believe that he had to resort to speaking with a dog to further this relationship, but here he was.
Astarion stopped in front of him, swallowing back a grimace at how the thing was digging dirt directly on his shoes. Instead, he smiled down at it, his voice only slightly strained when he asked, "Can you understand me?"
Scratch stopped his digging, opting to sit and stare up at him, an oddly humanoid voice answering, "Yes."
Huh, so that's how this spell worked. It was a little disconcerting to hear a human voice from a dog's mouth, but he would make do. Astarion cautiously sat next to him, perching on a nearby log as he tried to keep a pleasant smile on his face, "Good. How are you?"
Scratch stared at him, his head cocked, "The dirt tastes good here. I like that."
That was... Astarion didn't know. It was his own fault for trying to make small talk with an animal. He cut straight to the point, "That's great to hear. Now, would you mind doing me a favor tonight?"
Astarion had never had a dog narrow its eyes at him before, but that's exactly what Scratch did, "What is it?"
"Nothing serious," Astarion tried to reassure, "I was just hoping that perhaps you and the cub could sneak off for a night so Tav and I could spend some time together-"
"No," Scratch interrupted circling the ground three times before laying down, his eyes still on Astarion.
"Excuse me?" Astarion shot back, his true annoyance shining straight through his voice, "It's not exactly much to ask for! It's one night-"
"I don't trust you around them," The dog said simply, "I think you're going to hurt them."
Well that was just offensive. Ever since this little brat's arrival Astarion had barely had a chance to drink from you. And the times he did he was perfectly in control. Not including the first time of course.
"I'll have you know that not every vampire is some hellish demon with no self-control," Astarion bit out, only the slightest bit amused at himself for being reduced to defending his own disgusting kind, "And why pray tell, would I hurt one of the only reasons I'm still alive."
Scratch shook his head, one eye closed like this conversation was boring him, "Not that kind of hurt. The inside kind, that makes people cry. I don't want them to cry."
That was-Astarion didn't-how in the hells could a dog see through him that easily?
"I have no intention of hurting them," Astarion lied. Or at least he thought it was a lie. It felt... uncomfortably true when spoken allowed, "I just want to have a little fun, that's all. Don't you think they've earned that?"
"Not with you. You don't like them enough," Scratch sighed, "I like Gale more. Or Wyll. Karlach too. They can have fun with them instead."
That was it. Astarion was going to wring this little shit's neck. But before he could give into his more violent impulses, he could hear your voice, calling out to the current root of all of his problems.
Scratch bounded up, his tail already wagging as he started to trot over. But before he fully did he turned around, giving Astarion a once over, "If you can prove you like them, then I'll consider it."
And just like that he was off, running to your side while leaving a stunned Astarion in his wake. Did... did he just get verbally annihilated by a damn dog? How was he supposed to go on after this? Not to mention he was actually thinking about what the creature said. It sounded like a challenge, one that Astarion was suddenly pissed enough to take up.
If the little shithead wanted sincerity, then he would get it. And that's how Astarion found himself willingly opening up more. Even if it had to be in front of the damn dog. He told you more about Cazador, the horrors and tribulations he had endured through centuries. He told you of his regrets, the things he missed the most about being a mortal. He even told you the truth about that first night that you let him drink from your neck. That... that you were the first. How good it had felt to have what he had been denied for so long. And he was rewarded with his honesty. He got to learn more and more about you in turn. Your family, your home, where you incessant love for nature derived from. He was starting to slowly become a Tav-expert, suddenly hungry for every bit of information that he could procure.
They were long conversations, long enough to last well into the night. And for Astarion to be exhausted enough to just... fall asleep in the first available location. Which just so happened to always be in the pile of creatures you liked to sleep with. Though, Astarion had to admit after experiencing it himself, it was oddly pleasant to be surrounded by the warm, furry little headaches.
As for the two of you, things were slowly progressing in regards to his plan. A plan that he continually kept conveniently forgetting about. You were together now at the least, even if Scratch hardly ever let you have a night alone. But you cuddled and kissed, called each other pet names and the like. And... it was nice. Perhaps even too nice. Because Astarion was starting to... feel things that he'd prefer to not.
He was getting too attached, too close. The idea of sex didn't even seem to matter anymore, let alone the idiocy of trying to convince a dog to help him in that department. He was knowing too much of you, and the fact that he seemed to adore everything he saw only made it worse. And then the two of you managed to kill that demon, getting more and more information about Cazador. You risked so much for him, and were willing to risk so much more. He couldn't take it anymore.
He had told you the next night, everything. His plan, his past, how easy it was to revert back into new tricks. But he didn't want that with you. Maybe he never did. He wanted something real, and by the gods above you wanted the same thing. He had half expected you to dump him completely after that little speech. But... you didn't. Instead you hugged him, comforted him for trying and failing to betray your trust. It was a kindness he didn't deserve, but one that he would gladly accept.
Everything felt easier after that. Yes there were still countless horrors hanging over your heads but... he had you. And with you he was starting to think he could get through anything.
Even Halsin's insistent flirting. He was watching you both now as you helped him nurse a dying sapling to health, his eyes tracking Halsin's every move as he pretended to read. While he trusted you more than anything, fully aware that you would never stray, it didn't stop the paranoia. Just one other aspect of being in a real relationship that he hadn't seen coming. Turns out, it involved being terrified of losing it all. Especially to handsome, bulky elf druids.
But before he could fret over it any longer, he felt a tugging on his pant leg. He glanced down, his brow furrowing when he saw Scratch there, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling out.
"What the hell do you want?" Astarion asked, his words completely unmatching his actions as he scratched him behind the ears. Don't get him wrong, he still at least semi-loathed the creature but... he's also not quite sure he would have gotten to this point without his intervention. So a reluctant appreciation for his existence it was.
Scratch continued to paw at his leg, a low whine in his throat as he cocked his head to the right. Astarion followed the motion, only getting more confused when he realized he was trying to point to another potion.
Astarion sighed as he picked it up, “What? You want me to understand a new dressing down speech?”
Scratch continued to wag his tail, letting out a happy bark as a confirmation. As much as Astarion would prefer to not spend an evening getting lectured by a dog, he was more than a little curious to see what he had to say. 
He swallowed it down, grimacing at the taste as he wiped his mouth, “Okay, out with it. What do you want?”
"I like you now," Scratch said excitedly, prancing back and forth in front of him, "And they like you too. Do you like them?"
In moments like this, Astarion really did wish he had the heart of stone that he pretended to carry. Because the unexpected approval from a random pup was suddenly making him feel almost teary eyed. Or it was the bitter taste of the potion, but either way the innocent words were making his heart ache pleasantly. 
Astarion swallowed, smiling down at him, “I like them very much. More than anyone before. And I’m starting to think you might not be so bad either.”
Scratch sat in front of him, resting his head in his lap as his tail wagged, a goofy smile on his adorable face, “It’s because I’m a good boy. They tell me so all the time. Are we friends now? We are right?”
“Yeah,” Astarion smiled as he ran a hand through his white coat, his eyes drifting over to you. You were watching them, grinning ear to ear with a hand over your heart, nearly moments away from swooning. He looked back down at the dog, his smile only widening, “We’re going to be great friends.”
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vivwritesfics · 19 days
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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash
Chapter One
Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.
Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader
Warnings: Allusions to smut
1.5K
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In her defence, she didn't realise that The Hard Deck was a navy bar. She just wanted a drink, a moment of peace before she got back onto the road.
It was empty as she sipped her very first drink, savouring it. The longer she sat there, the longer she had to spend I'm San Diego, away from her family. But that was entirely intentional.
By the time she finished her first gin and tonic (something she had gotten a taste for because of her brother). The bar began filling up. She stood up from her seat, fished her keys from her pocket, and moved to leave. But she found herself back in her seat, found herself intrigued.
These navy men weren't like the men she hung around with. They were bigger, much more muscular. She watched from the corner of her eye as a few of them played pool.
"Would you like another?" The bartender asked kindly.
She immediately went to stand. "I can come and get it," she said, but the bartender shook her head, promising to bring another gin and tonic to her. Another gin and tonic and she wouldn't be able to drive.
As she sipped her second gin and tonic, a man walked in. The only similarity he had to the navy men was that he had aviators low on his nose. It didn't matter that it was dark outside, he sill wore them. A hawaiian shirt was on his body, open to reveal the white beneath. She'd seen her share of moustaches on friends, fellow drivers, her heroes growing up, but none of them looked as good with one as he did.
Colour her intruiged. She sat back as she watched him, sipping her drink as he wandered over to the bar and ordered himself a beer. As soon as the beer was in his hands he was walking over to the group playing pool behind her.
She lost sight of him then, but thought nothing of it as she drank. Two drinks and that would be her lot.
The man in the hawaiian shirt walked past her. He sat at the piano and pressed a few of the keys. His aviator friends surrounded him, singing along with joy as she played.
She couldn't look away from any of them. It was quite a sight. She had seen similar celebrations in her own line of work, like when her brother won his first championship.
He finished playing and everybody returned to what they were doing. His aviator friends walked past her in her both as they headed back to their drinks and to play pool. He went to do the same. She watched his watched the way he held his beer in his large hands, the way his hawaiian shirt moved around him.
But, suddenly, he was sliding into the seat opposite her. She couldn't hide her surprise as he sipped his beer and said "Hi."
That was it. Just 'hi'. She'd been chatted up so often in her line of work, she thought she was immune to it. But one little word from the gorgeous man across from her and she was ready to melt.
But she held her composure. The way his dark eyes stared into her own, the way a small smile played beneath his moustache, wasn't making it easy. "Hey," she responded almost nonchalantly as she picked up her drink. She'd been trained by her media team for stuff like this. But, one look at the man in front of her, and she wanted to forget it all.
"I haven't seen you around here," he continued.
She didn't think he knew who she was, but this confirmed it. It sent sparks through her. This was freedom.
"I'm just stopping by," she replied, a smile playing on her lips.
He held his large hand towards her. "I'm Rooster," he said.
She took his hand and shook it. "Well, Rooster. Do you always sit with random girls in bars?" She asked.
For a moment, a very brief moment, panic shot through him. But as soon as he saw the smile playing on her lips, he immediately relaxed. "Only the pretty ones," he replied.
She saw an opportunity. "Well, if I'm so pretty, then you wouldn't mind telling me your real name. Because I'm betting its not Rooster."
He shook his head. "You're right, it's not actually Rooster," he answered. "I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw."
In return, she gave him her first name and her first name only.
"Have you got a last name?" Bradley found himself asking.
The name suited him. Bradley. She hadn't said it outloud yet, but couldn't wait to feel it on her tongue. Even if it was for only one night.
She didn't tell him her last name, instead pulling out her I.D card to get him to read it. He took it, the I.D card looking tiny between his fingers. "Ver... Vershtap..." He tried to say it again, trailing off in a mumble.
"Close," she laughed. "Verstappen."
Bradley continued to blankly stare at her. So she decided to teach him. "Repeat after me. Ver."
"Ver," Bradley repeated. She couldn't help but laugh, it wasn't like it was difficult to pronounce.
"Stap."
"Stap. Verstap," he said nodding.
"Pen. Verstappen."
"Verstappen," he said slowly. But then he said it quicker, surprising himself with just how easy it was. "It's pretty, where is it from?" He asked and took a swig of his beer.
"It's Dutch," she answering, curling her fingers around her glass. "On my dad's side."
Bradley said her name in full. The way it rolled off of his tongue, she could have listened to it forever.
He looked at her I.D again. His face dropped. "You're twenty four?" He asked in surprise.
She nodded her head and sipped her gin.
"I'm thirty six," he replied.
Bradley went to stand up, to take his beer with him, but she shook her head. "It's not a problem with me," she said and he stilled. "You're younger than my brothers girlfriend and that is my threshold."
So, Bradley sat back dow. As they drank, they spoke. Bradley got her another drink when hers ran dry.
"What are you doing here in San Diego?" He asked as he slipped into the seat beside her.
She tapped her nose. "That's for me to know," she said and giggled. But she really wasn't going to tell him. She'd learnt by now that, once somebody knew who she was, they started treating her differently.
She didn't want that with Bradley.
She didn't know when they started kissing. But her hands were in his hair and she could feel his moustache against her lip. Bradley had his hands on her ass, squeezing lightly as he pulled her onto his lap. "You wanna head back to mine, find out why they call me Rooster?" He whispered against her lips.
She pulled away and nodded her head. At that, Bradley squeezed her hip. "I'm gonna need your words, pretty girl," he said and she kissed him again.
"Yes, Bradley," she said, her forehead against his. "I want you to take me back to your place and show me exactly why they call you Rooster."
Bradley grinned. He took her hand and led her out of the hard deck. As he took her past the other daggers, Nat sent a wink his way.
"Which one if yours?" She asked. She wasn't going to point out her car to him, the McLaren she was currently borrowing from the man that had taken her job. But more on that later.
Still holding her hand in his, Bradley took her over to the Ford Bronco.
She let out a whistle. "This is sweet," she muttered as she looked around it.
Bradley beamed. His Bronco was his pride and joy. "You know about cars?" He asked and she nodded her head.
"You could say I'm a car mechanic," she said and giggled.
Bradley opened the car door for her and helped her into the Bronco.
She fiddled with the radio for most of the ride back to his place. Normally Bradley was precious about his radio. He had it set to a station he liked, and nobody was allowed to change it. But he didn't mind when she did it. When she found a station she liked, she settled back in the passenger seat of his Bronco and hummed along.
Bradley was a gentleman. As soon as he pulled the Bronco into the driveway of his house, he opened the door for her and took her hand as she jumped out. He pushed the door shut and immediately pressed his lips against her own, hands cradling her head as he gently pushed her against the Bronco. She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips. "Fuck," she whispered against his soft lips. She'd never kissed someone with a moustache before, it was a different sensation, brushing against her lip as she fought for control.
She pulled back, chest heaving as she stared at him. "So, you gonna take me inside or what?"
Taglist: @biancathecool @not-nyasa @nurse-sainz
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mooshywrites · 3 months
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Echoes of Love and Loss
Fem!Reader x Halsin
Masterlist
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A/N - A massive thank you to @thoughts-of-bear for working with me on this prompt. Im really excited about making a series out of this and hope it’s everything you envisioned <3
Word count - 4K
Warnings - Angst, Jealousy, Smut next chapter
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“You’re mine”
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The party in your camp tonight was going to be like no other.
You could feel the energy vibrating through the air, a palpable buzz of excitement and relief after the long and grueling battle against Kethric Thorm and his cursed Shadowlands. Your group of companions were exhausted but excited as they made their way back to camp, already envisioning the celebration that waited for them. Wyll and Shadowheart were laughing and joking about needing a case or two of wine, Astarion was whining good-naturedly about how the outdoors were no place for a proper party, Lae'zel was grumbling impatiently about the need to make haste to Baldur's Gate, and Gale was eagerly discussing his latest theories on Elder Brain behavior with anyone who would listen
As you approached the Last Light Inn, you couldn't help but notice the change in atmosphere. Before the fight at moonrise towers, the mood was grim. Voices were hushed and nervous, weary of how much loss everyone had endured in the shadow curse.
But now, inside the tavern, the mood was lively. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, eagerly recounting tales from the recent battle and celebrating the lifting of the curse. Jahiera and her Harpers, along with the gnomes and tiefling, had already set off for Baldur's Gate, taking advantage of the newfound freedom from darkness and danger. You hoped the road wouldn’t be too hard on the. Almost everyone in the group had gone through enough to deserve a little bit of relaxed travel.
You scanned the small crowd, searching for Halsin's familiar figure among the faces. He had gone ahead of the group and you knew he was probably deep in thought. Since the fight at Moonrise Towers, he had been unusually quiet, a stark contrast to his normally talkative nature. Though you had noticed he was a bit standoffish before the fight, his usually guarded demeanor now seemed impenetrable. It was clear that something was troubling him deeply.
As you approached him, you couldn't help but notice the uncertainty in his eyes. They flickered with conflicting emotions, giving away his inner turmoil. He avoided your gaze, barely acknowledging your presence as he continued to walk forward. It was as if he didn't know how to face you anymore, or perhaps he was struggling with something that he couldn't share with anyone else. The air between you felt heavy with unspoken words and the tension was palpable.
The sting of disappointment was undeniable, a sharp ache in your heart. You hadn’t even been able to say anything to him before he had stalked off into the tavern.
Despite knowing better, you couldn't help but feel drawn to Halsin above all the others. When he let his guard down, he was an enchanting storyteller and a great listener. His skill with a knife was mesmerizing, transforming any simple piece of wood you brought him into a work of art. He’d sit with you and discuss the day, giving you advice on the various issues you came across on the journey thus far. And on rare occasions, when the night was still and the stars twinkled above, he would share songs he knew with you, his voice laced with a subtle hint of sorrow.
You both knew that he carried the weight of guilt for the curse in the shadowlands. He blamed himself, as if he had shirked his duties as a Druid and failed to protect the gifts given to the world by Silvanus.
The shadowland curse was a dark stain on his heart. A stone wall separating the two of you. You were hoping with the curse gone, perhaps that wall would’ve crumbled.
Of course, it seemed that hope would’ve been far too easy.
You took in a deep breath and steeled yourself. It wasn’t fair to expect the Druid to have deeper feelings for you if he simply didn’t. Halsin owed you nothing. Besides that, the connection you craved from him would probably bring more harm than good.
You couldn’t save the whole of Baldur’s Gate if you were falling over yourself to get approval from someone.
You tried to shake the thoughts from your head, slightly annoyed that the insecurities had dug deep enough into your mind that they threatened your mood. No, tonight you were going to have fun, no strings attached. You needed to ignore the ache in your chest so it wouldn’t ruin what you and your companions had accomplished.
What you really needed was a strong drink.
It didn’t take long to find a source of alcohol. Shadowheart and Wyll had lined up a few glasses and broken open a wine barrel, chatting casually as they sipped.
As you joined Shadowheart and Wyll at the makeshift bar, pouring yourself a glass of wine, you tried to push Halsin to the back of your mind. You listened half-heartedly to their banter, letting the sound of their laughter fill the space between your own troubled thoughts. The wine was sweet on your tongue, a welcome distraction from the inner turmoil that threatened to consume you. With each sip, you felt a little bit lighter, a little less burdened by the weight of your unrequited feelings.
But just as you were beginning to relax into the warmth of the alcohol, a familiar voice cut through the haze of noise in the tavern. "You look troubled, my friend," Wyll said softly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself as you met his gaze. “I... I'm fine,” you replied, willing yourself to sound convincing. But Wyll just gave you a pitying smile.
“You know, a case of wine and a good dance always lightens my night when I feel how you look.” He grinned.
Shadowheart scoffed, “I hope that wasn’t your attempt at flattering her.”
You gave Shadowheart a small smile, tucking your hair behind your ears. You knew Wyll had meant no harm by the comment, you probably did look disheveled by both your drinking and feelings.
“I was simply saying that we can’t let our companion stand here and drink looking this sad. Not after we literally just fought and survived a battle with the God of Death.” Wyll protested.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that dance, then.” You giggled, your tipsiness making words difficult to form, “I’m quite good you know, at dancing, I mean.”
“You are?” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows.
“Mhm” You shrugged, “I started learning to dance to help with agility. It turns out, I’m a better dancer than I am a fighter.”
“I should’ve guessed.” Wyll teased before holding out his hands, “Well then, show me how good of a dancer you are, o’ savior of the shadowlands?”
A small giggle escaped your lips as you took his hand, letting him guide you in a gentle spin. The warmth of his touch against your skin was comforting, filling the void in your chest with a sense of contentment.
Whether it was the wine or just pure exhaustion, being held by someone felt like a relief. Wyll's hand rested securely on your waist, his lips humming a simple waltz as he twirled you around the open floor. Despite the buzz of voices and laughter around you, it seemed like no one paid much attention to your dancing. Your feet moved effortlessly in sync with Wyll's rhythm, following his lead without hesitation. As he pulled you closer during the next spin, you found yourself leaning into him, seeking more of that closeness that eased your heartache.
But then, as your gaze wandered around the room, you caught sight of Halsin standing in the corner with his arms tightly crossed over his chest, his eyes locked onto where Wyll's hand rested on your waist. A tension filled the air between the three of you, making your once carefree thoughts feel heavy.
Halsin's gaze was like a thunderstorm, dark and brooding as it bore into your intertwined figures on the dance floor. The lively atmosphere of the tavern seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the weight of his stare pressing down on you. You felt rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from his piercing look. The unspoken words hung heavy between you, suffocating any semblance of joy that had filled your heart just moments ago.
As Wyll led you in another twirl, you could sense the tension in Halsin growing palpable. His jaw clenched tightly, his stance rigid as if he were battling some internal conflict. The music that had once filled your ears now seemed distant and muffled, drowned out by the deafening silence that enveloped you and Halsin.
Before you could even process what was happening, Halsin abruptly turned on his heels and strode out of the tavern, disappearing into the night without a word.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him leave. What on earth could that have been about? Your tipsy mind wondered if you had done something to offend him. If something you said or did at moonrise towers had made him hate you. Why else would he have been looking at you with such intensity?
Wyll clearing his throat brought you back into the moment, it was as if you had forgotten for a moment that you were dancing with him. Wyll gave you a knowing look and a soft smile as he let you go.
“You should go after him.” He prodded gently.
“What do you mean?” You asked, looking back at the doorway.
“I mean, you only look at someone the way Halsin looked at you for one reason.” Wyll muttered
“What reason is that?” You stuttered, still not grasping the situation.
“Just go talk to him.” Wyll sighed, giving you a gentle nudge towards the door.
Then he walked back to Shadowheart, leaving you to make the decision to follow Halsin or not on your own. You stared back at the doorway, silently contemplating before you took a breath and walked out.
The crisp night air enveloped your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The full moon glowed brightly in the sky, casting a silvery light over the landscape. The stars twinkled like scattered gemstones, creating a peaceful and serene atmosphere. The whole scene made you feel a little calmer as you made your way further from the tavern, trying to see where the Druid may have gone.
The soft rustling of leaves caught your attention, and you followed the sound into the dense thicket on the outskirts of the camp. The moonlight filtered through the canopy of trees, casting intricate patterns on the forest floor as you ventured deeper into the shadows.
You called out Halsin's name, the sound of your voice swallowed by the silent embrace of the night. A lone owl hooted in response, its haunting call echoing through the stillness of the woods.
As you nervously pushed past a tangle of branches, you finally caught sight of Halsin standing at the edge of a moonlit clearing. His back was turned to you, his silhouette outlined by the ethereal glow of the moon. He seemed lost in thought, his shoulders drooping with an air of resignation.
You approached him slowly, unsure of what to say or how to break the heavy silence that hung between you. The distance between you felt like an insurmountable chasm, filled with unspoken words and unvoiced emotions that threatened to suffocate you both. Halsin didn't turn as you drew nearer, his gaze fixed on the moonlit clearing ahead.
“Halsin,” you called out softly, your voice barely above a whisper in the stillness of the night.
He stiffened at the sound of your voice, but still didn't face you. The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible as you stood just a few feet away from him. You could feel the weight of his emotions hanging heavy in the air, and it made your heart ache with a mixture of guilt and longing.
“I... I didn't mean to upset you,” you began, your words hesitant as you struggled to find the right thing to say. “I don't know what I did, but if I hurt you in any way, I'm truly sorry.”
Finally, Halsin turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. His eyes held a storm of emotions, swirling with a mix of anger, hurt, and something else that you couldn't quite place. The lines on his face seemed deeper, as if the weight of the world had settled there. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unbridgeable gap.
“You didn't upset me,” he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. “It's not about what you did. It's about what you make me feel.”
Confusion clouded your foggy mind as you tried to decipher his words. What did he mean by that? What feelings were stirring within him because of you?
Halsin sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I've tried to deny it, to bury it deep inside me. Try to ignore it outright, even. But seeing you with him...” He trailed off, unable to voice the turmoil raging inside him.
“With him?” You repeated softly, feeling a flicker of understanding dawn within you.
Halsin nodded, his gaze falling to the ground below as he spoke. "Yes, with him. Wyll. When I saw you with him, a part of me... a part of me wishes it were me dancing with you. A part of me wishes I could hold you close without being afraid."
His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of his confession settling over you like a shroud. You stood there, stunned by his revelation, your mind racing with a mix of emotions. The image of Halsin, always so composed and stoic, baring his soul to you was both heartbreaking and yet intoxicating.
“I... I didn't know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the silence of the night. “I thought you didn’t see me as anything other than an ally against The Absolute.”
Halsin finally turned to face you fully, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your arms. “I know,” he said softly, his voice raw with emotion. “I've kept my feelings hidden for so long. I thought I didn’t deserve to start falling in love with someone after how I had let the curse fester here. I thought I didn’t deserve you.” He grimaced.
“But seeing you tonight, seeing the way you laughed and danced with Wyll, it broke something inside me. It made me realize that maybe, just maybe, I do deserve a chance at happiness.” Halsin's voice was filled with a vulnerability you had never seen in him before. The moonlight bathed his face in a soft glow, highlighting the raw honesty etched in his features.
Your heart swelled with a myriad of emotions, the weight of his words echoing in your chest. You reached out tentatively, closing the distance between you and placing a hand on his arm. “Halsin, I... I don't know what to say.” Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words to convey the whirlwind of feelings swirling within you.
He gazed down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection or acceptance. “Please, just tell me the truth, my heart. Tell me if there's any chance for us, if there's any hope for a future where we can be more than just allies. Say the word and I’ll never bring this up again. We can be friends in the very least.” His voice was filled with a plea, a silent prayer that hung in the air between you like an unspoken promise. You felt the weight of his gaze on you, his vulnerability laid bare before you, and it stirred something deep within your heart.
As you looked into his eyes, searching for your own truths, a rush of memories flooded your mind. The moments shared together, the laughter, the quiet conversations under the moonlight. You realized that the connection you felt with Halsin ran far far deeper than mere friendship. It was an unspoken bond that had been quietly growing, nurtured by shared experiences and unspoken understanding.
Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze with hesitence. “Halsin,” you began, your voice unsteady from the tumult of emotions swirling within you. “I... I don't know what the future holds for us. But I do know that what I feel for you goes beyond friendship.”
You looked away, the sobering reality of your situation filling your mind again.
“But the cult… saving Baldur’s Gate. If it came to a moment’s decision, could you choose the fate of thousands over my own? Could we really save the people we need to save if we’re too focused on each other?”
Halsin's expression softened at your words, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes even at your hesitance. He reached out to gently lift your chin, guiding your gaze back to meet his.
“Love has a way of giving us the strength we never knew we had. Together, we can face whatever challenges come our way, even if one of us is lost.” He said, his voice filled with conviction
The moonlight seemed to dance around the two of you as you stood there, caught in a moment suspended in time. The weight of the world and the responsibilities pressing down on you felt distant, overshadowed by the warmth of Halsin's touch and the affection that was beginning to bloom between you.
“It won't be easy,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you gazed into his eyes, seeing a reflection of your own fears and hopes mirrored back at you. “But I want to try. I want to see where this could lead us.”
Halsin smiled, a smile that reached his eyes and filled your chest with warmth.
The two of you stood for a moment, locked in each other’s gaze, a mere breath from each other before Halsin let out a soft chuckle.
“It can’t be any harder than seeing you in Wyll’s arms.” He teased, pulling you gently into his arms.
You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as a wave of relief washed over you. The weight that had settled on your shoulders seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of lightness and freedom.
"Who knew a old bear like you could be so jealous," you replied with a playful grin, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin.
“Jealous?” Halsin murmured thoughtfully. “I would not call it jealousness, my heart. Merely possessiveness.”
His tone was half an octave lower and your breath caught slightly. You could feel how Halsin’s arms ever so slightly tightened around you. You wondered how far you you could push the Druid’s buttons, the wine making you bolder than you might’ve been.
“I guess I'll have to test just how possessive you can get,” you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye as you playfully pushed against his chest, reveling in the way his grip tightened around you in response. The air between you crackled with a newfound tension, the unspoken desire that simmered beneath the surface now palpable in the moonlit clearing.
Halsin's gaze darkened slightly, a mixture of amusement and something more primal flickering in his eyes. “Careful, my heart,” he warned in a low voice, the rumble sending a shiver down your spine. “You might just awaken a side of me you're not quite ready for.”
A thrill shot through you at his words, the prospect of unraveling the composed facade he wore so effortlessly enticing.
The intensity of his earlier confession still hung thick in the air, your chest pressed tightly against his own. You couldn’t find the words for a smart retort as you looked up into his eyes, lost in his expression.
Your eyes flicked to his lips, absentmindedly wondering about how the little scar there would feel against your tongue.
As if sensing your thoughts, Halsin’s eyes darkened.
The air between you crackled with anticipation, the tension thick and charged with unspoken desire. With a sudden surge of courage, you closed the distance between your lips and his, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the taste of him, the feel of his arms around you pulling you closer.
Halsin responded eagerly, his restraint crumbling under the weight of the moment. The warmth of his body pressed against yours ignited a fire within you that blazed fiercely, consuming every doubt and fear in its path. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, a silent exchange of passion and longing that spoke volumes more than any words ever could.
As the kiss deepened, time seemed to stand still. When you finally pulled away for a moment, you were breathless.
Halsin’s eyes stayed locked on yours, his face still close enough for you to see the flecks of gold in his iris.
“You’re mine.” He murmured.
You blinked in surprise, trying to ignore the way his words sent a flurry of goosebumps across your skin.
His gaze was possessive and heated, the feelings he had while seeing you with Wyll obviously still nagging at his thoughts.
You paused, searching his eyes as the anticipation rose in your chest. As the heat pooled in your stomach.
“Prove it then.” you whispered.
He didn’t need further encouragement. With a fierce determination in his eyes, Halsin lifted you effortlessly off the forest floor and carried you deeper into the heart of sparse woods. The moonlight guided your path as you clung to him, your heart racing with a mix of fear and exhilaration.
As he found a secluded wrapped in a blanket of new and soft grass, he gently set you down, his gaze never leaving yours. The air around you was thick with desire, tension swirling between you like a tempest waiting to break free.
Without a word, Halsin captured your lips in another searing kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepened the connection between you. Every touch felt electric, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins.
The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. The rustling leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures formed a haunting symphony to accompany the unbridled passion that burned between you.
Halsin leaned further against you, settling between your legs. Your mind began to cloud with need, everything about the Druid enveloping you completely.
Halsin pulled back for just a moment, staring down at you hungrily.
“I promise you, when tonight is over, you will have no doubts of who you belong to.”
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Pt 2
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redcarpetview · 2 years
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Academy Partners With Mercury Studios to Launch Jonas Gwangwa Music Composition Initiative
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Jonas Gwangwa - South African Jazz Musician and Composer. 
         LOS ANGELES, CA – The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, in partnership with Mercury Studios, today announced the launch of the Jonas Gwangwa Music Composition Initiative, a one-year career development program for Black British musicians interested in composing music for film.  In celebration of the late South African musician, composer and Oscar® nominee Jonas Gwangwa, the program will provide real-world experience, one-on-one mentorship and networking opportunities, beginning in October 2022. 
         Part of the Academy’s ongoing Aperture 2025 global outreach and engagement efforts, the Jonas Gwangwa Music Composition Initiative aims to foster broader representation in film music composition, with an emphasis on Black British talent.  Its creation was spearheaded by UK-based Academy members Gary Yershon (Music Branch), Misan Sagay (Writers Branch) and Nainita Desai (Music Branch).
    “This initiative seeks to correct an imbalance.  In contrast to the major contributions Black musicians are making to the music industry in the UK, their presence in the UK film industry is significantly lacking,” said Yershon, Sagay and Desai.  “Through this program, we seek to build community amongst Black artists in the UK by highlighting opportunities to bridge film and music careers.”
     The program is open to UK-based Black artists and composers with at least three years of work experience as a musician.  Two participants, selected through an application process, will receive access to Academy members across various branches in order to gain an understanding of the filmmaking process; one-on-one mentorship with a member of the Academy’s Music Branch to learn about the practical aspects of composing for film; access to Academy events and screenings in London; and introductions to leading practitioners from all areas of film music, among other mentorship programming.
     Participants will be matched with a filmmaker who is in the process of making a short film and will be given the opportunity to compose music for the film. The composition work will be funded by two grants from Universal Music Group’s Mercury Studios, a full-service, global production film and television studio, and Decca Records.  Additional programming and support will be provided by Abbey Road Studios.
    Gwangwa, who died in 2021, was a prominent South African jazz musician and composer.  He received Oscar nominations for Original Score and Original Song for his work, with George Fenton, on “Cry Freedom” (1987). 
    Applications for the Jonas Gwangwa Music Composition Initiative are currently open.  For more information visit https://oscars.org/learn/jonas-gwangwa-initiative. 
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sayafics · 1 month
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No More Chances
Rick Grimes x reader
Oneshot
It's probably the dirtiest thing I've ever written, but I have no clue if it's actually good😭 but it is my first actual xreader fic, so hopefully, i did okay.
Warnings: smut, spanking, daddy kink, slight dub-con
Masterlist
Abraham had spotted you first - a small and timid little thing hidden in the darkness of the container at Terminus. You had whimpered and shied away from them as he called to you, asked you your name, and how you had gotten here.
The truth was you didn't know. Not really.
All you had known were the four walls they had kept you confined in, and even then you hadn't known how long it had been.
Days. Weeks. Months?
It all felt like a blur, drifting in and out of sleep, terrified they would come and take you to the place they had taken countless other poor souls who had never returned.
It seemed it didn't matter how long you had been there or how scared you were, Abraham wasn't someone who gave up so easily. He poked and prodded and questioned until you opened up hesitantly, introducing yourself with a dry and cracking voice, strained from disuse.
There was something familiar in your quietness, in the way you spoke softly and asked questions with such bold curiosity, the way you settled in so easily despite just meeting him and the people he travelled with. It reminded him of a life long gone, children long passed, and it was then he decided he would take you in and care for you as his own.
When they had escaped from Terminus, Abraham had been the one to drag you along with a tight grip on your forearm, never letting go and repeating the same three-worded instructions at every step - "stay close, kid."
If the others had noticed his peculiar behaviour, they hadn't said much. Nor did they think to look twice.
You had been trapped with them, suffered perhaps more than they had at the hands of Terminus, and lost more than they could imagine. It bound you to them in a way they couldn't deny.
Well, all but one man.
Rick Grimes.
Stubborn and angry and feral. A wolf disguised as a man, a predator prowling around your form like he was waiting for a moment of weakness before he striked.
But you never gave him the chance.
You barely spoke to the man, sticking to Abraham, who you slowly saw an older brother in, and Rosita, a dear friend.
You picked up where you had left off with ease, holding your weapons with comfort as though they had never left your grip and swinging them in raw instinct, taking out everything that stood in your path.
You could hold your own, a fact Abraham praised you for. Still, it didn't stop Rick from treating you like a child - not letting you join Daryl on hunts despite him promising to keep an eye on you, denying your requests to walk ahead of the group in case they ran into walkers or trail behind in case someone snuck up on them. It was as though he saw you as a child, and the thought grated upon you.
It continued, for all the long days and cold nights you spent on the road to the harrowing days you spent adjusting to Alexandria.
Even when Rick had taken charge of the community, a fierce and powerful leader, he made sure to use his voice to do nothing but deny you your freedom.
It frustrated you to no end.
Perhaps that's why you were doing something as stupid as this.
Rick had said you couldn't join them on the run, said if you stepped a toe out of line and disobeyed him as you had many times before he would teach you a lesson so you never did so again.
He always made threats like this, it was simply another empty threat.
Or at least you had hoped it was.
You walked through the woods near Alexandria - if Rick wouldn't let you scavenge with him and Daryl, then you would have your own little adventure.
All had been going well until you burst through some shrubbery to be met with the groans of dozens of walkers.
A hoarde.
It wasn't as big as the ones you had seen before, but it was too large to handle alone.
You could do nothing but stumble away, running in the direction you prayed was back to Alexandria. But it seemed fate was not on your side, as everywhere you turned, there was nothing but more walkers.
Your breath caught in your throat, heart sinking with dread as your eyes burned. This couldn't be how you went out.
No.
You wouldn't let it be.
You looked around you, searching with eager eyes for a tall and strong tree. You sprinted towards it, grateful for being a natural climber as you clambered your way as high as you could get.
You would wait them out, hope they disappeared and left you be.
And they did.
But it had taken hours. Night had fallen, and your eyes had slipped shut as you leaned back against the tree trunk, knowing you would regret choosing to sleep here when you woke in the morning.
When you had woken the next morning, it had taken you the space of a breath to realise the walkers had finally let you be. And it took the space of a heartbeat to realise you had been missing the entire night, and though Rick may not have noticed your absence at first, Abraham and Rosita would have.
Shit.
You chambered down the trees hastily, almost losing your footing multiple times before jumping down the rest of the distance. Small scratches littered your arms, and you were lucky your cargos protected the soft flesh of your calves and thighs.
It was fine, you told yourself.
Rick had never followed through on his threats before. It would have to be a cold day in Hell before he started today.
If anything, the man did everything in his power to avoid you. This would simply be another one of those times.
If she was lucky, it would only have to be Abaraham's admonishing she'd have to endure - perhaps Rosita, too. But Rick? He would give her that stare he always did, like he was disappointed at her rebellion. Frustrated at her disobedience.
Something else darker always laid beneath his gaze, something she had never been able to make out.
When she drew closer towards the gates of Alexandria, she debated sneaking over the gates and pretending as though she had never left.
But it seemed fate had beat her to it once more.
Carol stood on the watchtower, fixing her with an exasperated stare as she turned back slightly to yell - "found her!"
There was a quiet commotion as bodies clambered up the platform, and up rose the figures of a disappointed Abraham. And a furious Rick grimes.
Huh.
Well, double shit.
Rick was heaving with anger, nearly jumping down the platform as he ordered the gates to be opened.
Abraham stayed standing next to Carol, and her heart sank with guilt as she found herself unable to meet his gaze.
She sped up towards the gate, hoping to ask for his forgiveness and pretend none of this had ever happened. It wasn't as though she had gotten hurt.
She was safe. Perfectly fine without a scratch.
Rick's voice boomed, echoing violently in the space between them as he blocked her hurried path to Abraham.
"Where the hell have you been?"
Her lips parted in shock as he made his way forward, his hand took a hold of her face, his fingers pressing into her cheeks forcing her lips out in a pout as his brows furrowed in concern, despite the bubbling anger in his gaze.
"'m fine. Just in the woods, no big deal."
You wouldn't be.
Your words were whispered, like you were terrified to set him off.
He clenched his jaw at your words, but you could see how his shoulders relaxed minutely.
"The hell were you doing outside the gates, sweetheart?"
His voice was tinged with anger, and still, he used that stupid petname he could never put away.
You were sure he hated you. He confirmed it with every glare, with every denial to your requests. But he wouldn't stop calling you that.
You didn't reply, cheeks flushing with embarassment as you pulled your face away from his grip and looked over his shoulder to see your friends armed to the teeth, very likely having gotten ready to search for you as they presumed you were in danger.
You met his eyes, taken aback by the rage that was pouring from them. You couldn't help the way your eyes burned as you shifted on your feet, "'m sorry, Rick. Didn't mean to stay-"
"No. No apologies this time. What on earth were you thinking? Leaving Alexandria without telling anyone? We thought something happened to you!"
You swallowed roughly, unsure of what you could say to make it all better.
It seemed you didn't have to.
"I've had it with giving you warnings only for you to ignore it like the little brat you are," his words were strained and hushed as he tried to hold back from raising his voice and alerting others of his intentions.
"I promised you you'd get punished if you didn't listen to me and stay inside of Alexandria. Not only did you leave the gates, you stayed out the whole night!"
"I didn't mean to! I swe-"
He didn't give you time to finish, hand wrapping tight around your wrist as he began dragging you into Alexandria.
He paused next to Daryl. You gave him a pleading stare, but he only shook his head minutely.
You had messed up this time. Bad.
It was one thing to leave the gates. Another to be missing the whole night and not tell anyone where you had gone.
"Keep everyone out."
Your stomach rolled with anxiety at Rick's words, and Daryl only nodded in ascent. You tried to look back for Abaraham, ready to cry out to him so he could spare you of Rick's wrath.
Rick only tugged you after him once more, "sorry, sweetheart, but Abaraham can't help you this time."
She knew it had been Abaraham who had stopped him from disciplining her all those other times. It seems this time had been too much for him to accept as well.
She couldn't help the tears that pooled in her eyes at the realisation she truly disappointed Abraham. Rick only scoffed as he dragged her to his house, empty aside from his seething form and her worried one.
He closed the door behind them, walking past her as he paced up and down the small living room space. She could only watch him anxiously, shifting on her feet as she watched his shoulders tense and his lips twitch into a familiar snarl. He was so angry.
"I knew you were wreckless," he started, his voice pitched with incredulity, "but you have to be a whole 'nother crazy to go and spend the night in the woods. What if something happened, huh? Did you even think before you left? 'Course you didn't, brat like you thinks of no one but herself."
You ground your teeth at his words, anger fizzling up and replacing the guilt you previously felt.
"Oh, please. You would've loved it if I never came back. Hell, it's your fault I was out there in the first place!"
He stood still from his pacing, his back to her as he looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes - "my fault?"
"Yes! You never let me do anything. You act as though I'm stupid and incompetent."
"Well, clearly, I was right."
"Oh, fuck you, you son of a bitch. You're always so arrogant," you couldn't help the words that spiilled past your lips, as though months of frustration had finally found an opportunity to make itself known and unburden your conscious.
"You always tell me what to do, like I can't think for myself," your voice gradually grew louder as you drew closer to him, "but I can! I'm so much more than what you think of me. You're not my dad, Rick. So stop acting like it."
He had turned to you fully by the end of your rant, head twisted with a dark smirk upon his face that promised exactly what he had been threatening you with the moment you had joined the group - discipline.
"You done with the speech, sweetheart? The things I tell you to do are for your own good, I'm protecting you."
"Then why does everyone else get to do stuff? You take Rosita and Tara on runs with you, but you make me stay in these stupid walls. Hell, even Enid's left Alexandria more than me!"
"I told you. I'm protecting you."
"That's so dumb, and if you think I'm going to stand here and accept that, you are too."
He clenched his jaw, running a hand over his face before a scoff left him, "wanna know why I don't let you out?"
She didn't say anything, just watched as his eyes grew so dark she could no longer make out the blue hues of them.
"Because you're nothing but a stupid little girl who doesn't know when something is too much for her. 'nd I ain't going to watch you get yourself killed."
Stupid little girl?
Your hands trembled in anger as your eyes darted to the nearest thing. You reached for the throw pillows on the couch, throwing it at Rick's head as he stepped back to avoid everything you threw his way.
"Fuck you, Rick. Fuck you and your stupid saviour complex!"
When you ran out of things to throw, you drew closer to him with fury burning in your eyes. "I have more than proved myself in this group."
You poked at his chest, meeting his eyes with vicious challenge - "I deserve to be here," you pushed at his chest as rage ate you up, "and I don't need you protecting me. You're not my father. You're not anything to me. You're just some lowlife sheriff from a small, forgettable town that gets off on controlling people."
You paused, your face falling at your words.
No.
No, you hadn't meant that. Not really.
You wanted to hurt him, but not like this.
Rick was tough, yes. And so stubborn. But he was a loyal man who would do anything to protect his people, and you knew that included you.
Shit.
You were scared to look him in the eyes, worried you would see nothing but disappoint in his eyes. A more selfish part of you worried that he would walk away, let you be without talking to you again. As much as you hated the way he controlled your every move, a small and guilty piece of your soul craved his overprotectiveness, playing into the fantasy that he only acted like this because he cares.
"Get upstairs."
His voice was devoid of emotions, more of a barking order than anything else.
You finally looked up at him, confusion flooding your face as you took in the fire that burned in his eyes - "what?"
"Upstairs. Second door on the right."
You scoffed, "I'm not some dog for y-"
His hand clamped over your throat, tugging you closer until your noses brushed together and his warm breath fanned over your lips. You could feel yourself grow warm under his intense stare.
"Go upstairs, now. I'll give you thirty seconds before I drag you up there myself, understood?"
When you didn't answer, he squeezed your throat lightly in warning, and you couldn't help but hold back a whimper.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
If you wanted to disobey him, mock him and ridicule him then he would do what he had to, to show you your place. You would learn by the end of today, he'd make sure.
"Yes, sir?"
Your voice trailed off as a question, one that Rick replied to with an amused hum - "we'll work on that."
He took his hand off your throat, stepping back to cross his arms over his chest. You tried to ignore how broad they made his shoulders seem, how large and intimidating he was when he stood over you.
You swallowed harshly before he nodded his head towards the steps and you couldn't help but run up into the room he told you to meet him in.
You didn't have the nerve to look around and see how the man lived. No, your heart was racing with fear as you wondered what exactly he planned to do.
Downstairs Rick locked all the doors, his way of making sure no one could get in. He wouldn't want anyone disturbing the both of you.
You could hear his footsteps growing closer, like a ticking time-bomb. You didn't know what to do with yourself. You stumbled backwards until you reached the window and a glance outside showed how everyone went back to their daily lives now that you'd come back safe and sound.
You tried to look for Abraham, but before you could spot the red-headed man, Rick made his way through the door.
He shut it behind him, hand reaching back to click the lock shut before placing his hands on his hips and scanning for form.
His gaze paused on your arms, tutting slightly at the light scratches left from your frantic climbing of the tree - "arms hurt?"
His voice was quieter, much more passive than it had been downstairs. Still, it did nothing to calm your trembling heart.
You shook her head minutely, to which he narrowed his eyes, "use your big girl words."
You bit your lip in an attempt to hold back any retort but still couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you spoke, "no, sir."
He shook his head, disappointed in your attitude - "gotta teach you a lesson. That kind of attitude isn't gonna work with me."
You couldn't help but snort light, wondering what exactly he planned to do, "what? You planning on grounding me?"
He didn't say anything, only drew closer to the bed before his hands went to his duty belt. Your heart began to sink in your chest as you watched him throw the duty belt onto the bed, quickly reaching for his actual belt and slipping it out from the loops of his jeans. He folded it in half, slapping it lightly against the palm of his hand.
He pointed towards his dresser with it, the top of it bare, but there was a mirror placed at such an angle that the whole room was reflected in it.
"Bend over on the dresser, trousers down."
You swallowed harshly, eyes widening with incredulity.
"You can't be serious?"
He clenched his teeth, "does it look like I'm joking, sweetheart? Dresser. Now."
"No."
He took a few steps closer to you, "either you willing walk to that dresser and take your punishment like the big girl you say you are, or I'm gonna throw you over my lap and not stop until your ass is too sore for you to even walk straight."
You could tell he wasn't joking, could tell from the way his knuckles whitened as he gripped the belt.
You couldn't help the way your voice quietened as you twisted your hands and shifted on your feet, "how many?"
"Why? Are you scared?"
You couldn't help it when your eyes narrowed in defence, huffing your way to the dresser, kicking off your shoes and not stopping in a show of bravery. It wasn't until you actually stood in front of it that you slowed down, hands trembling as you fiddled with the button of your cargos.
Your trembling hands were noticeable and only worsened when two hands creeped around your waist, and Rick spoke into your ear, his voice almost soft.
He unbuttoned your cargos, your breath catching in your throat as he slipped his hands into the waistband to help push it down your legs and reveal soft, baby-pink panties, "just twenty, yeah? Think that'll teach you your lesson?"
Twenty?
God, you wanted to high-tail it and run.
But he had locked the door. And even if you did manage to leave, you knew Rick would find another way to punish you.
Maybe this was the easiest option. He just needed to calm down, to get over his ego and think he taught you a lesson. He didn't need to know you thought you were right.
You leaned over the dressor, leaning on your elbows as a shaky breath escaped you, "yes, sir."
"Good girl."
You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine at his praise.
"Need you to count after every one, hm? You miss a number and I start again."
"What? That's not fair."
"Then you better not miss a number."
You tried to push yourself up straight, not believing he actually meant what he said, "this is so stu-"
Thwack.
A gasp escaped your throat, and you were sure the belt had left its mark on you.
"Get back down and start counting."
You did as he said reluctantly, unwilling to test him when he striked you once already.
"One."
You couldn't help but whimper as he struck the belt again, this time two in a quick succession on the soft underside of your cheeks.
"Two- three."
"Look at you, counting like a big girl. What was it you said to me?"
Rick ended his question with a lash directly on your plump cheeks, relishing how the skin turned red and raised under his strength.
You wanted to retort, but you didn't think you could do more than count without your voice breaking. Your eyes stung with tears, but you held them back, hands clenched into tight fists as you tried to stop yourself from reaching back to cover your abused bottom.
Fuck Rick and fuck his rules.
You wouldn't let him win.
"Four."
You would take every lash and count without breaking.
You could do this.
Right?
"Ah, yeah. That I meant nothing to you, right?"
Three were thrown in quick succession, tears pooling in your eyes as your voice finally broke whilst you counted to seven.
"That I ain't your father?"
Thwack.
This one had been over your upper thigh, the pain radiating towards your pussy and you couldn't help the whine that escaped you as you counted eight, praying he couldn't see how your traiterous cunt twitched and moistened at the strike.
"I'll be the best damn daddy you ever had, sweetheart."
Another three strikes over the same senstive area across your cheeks, the skin already turning a mottled red as you moaned slightly as the sound of him calling himself your daddy.
Fuck.
Another strike hit your cheeks, this one softer as he tutted into your ear.
"My poor baby," your eyes met his through the mirror as you held back a whimper at his words. Tears were falling down your face as you held back a cry. "Looks like my little girl forgot to keep counting."
Your eyes widened as you realised it meant he would start all over again.
Rick couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, a dark cadence that had you shivering as you shook your head at him in the reflection.
He came closer to you, pressing up against your tender backside, the harsh material of his jeans rubbing against your bruised bottom to make a horrible, aching burn. Through the haziness of your tears and hesitant arousal, you could feel something press against your cunt, something big and hard and you knew exactly what it was.
Your hands moved to tighten on the edge of the dressing table, trying so hard not to rub back against him.
"Seems like I'm going to have to start again, huh?"
You couldn't help but break into a sob, "no, no, no. Please, I'm sorry. I don't want more."
He petted your hair, using it to start pulling you to him so your back was flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you in place.
You whimpered as his jeans rubbed harshly against your sore bottom, Rick placed his chin in the crook of your neck, cooing at you through the reflection, "maybe if you ask me really nicely, I'll listen."
You held onto his forearms, your fingers gripping his arm with trembling strength as you whimpered and cried, "please, I'm so sorry. Please don't start again."
"Please don't start again, who?"
"Please don't spank me again, sir."
"Hm, don't think I like that one, sweetheart."
You just stared at him through the reflection, confusion painting your face until-
Oh.
"Daddy," your voice shook as you whined the word, unable to stop yourself from rocking back on him in instinct, "daddy, please. Don't want n'more," your voice broke as you cried softly, "hurts s' bad."
One of his hands drifted to splay over your lower abdomen, using the pressure to push you back against his cock, hissing quietly in your ear.
"See, daddy would believe you baby. But I think you're lying."
Your fingers come to pull at his as they drift lower and lower, knowing he would find your panties damp, "no 'm not. Please-"
You would whine and beg and cry if it meant he wouldn't spank you with the belt.
He clicked his tongue, dropping his hands to stand back and run his eyes over you. He reached forward to drop the belt on the dresser, "I have a better idea, hm?"
He moved away from you, making his way to the bed to sit comfortably on top. He leaned back on his hand, his pupils still blown with anger, but now there was something more.
You watched as he jerked his head at his lap in the reflection, "c'mon baby. Come lie down on daddy's lap and take your punishment like a big girl."
Turning to him, you couldn't help the petulant whine depsite knowing you would get nowhere, "don't wanna."
He scoffed, leaning forward to rest on his elbows, "either you come yourself or I'll bend you back over that dresser and give you fifty."
You fisted the sheets in your hands, burying your face in your arms as he ghosted his fingers over the curve of your back, drifting down slowly over the bruising flesh.
You knew you could barely endure another twenty, so his threat was enough to make you stumble to him, your bottom already much too sore from the incomplete lashings he gave. You stood close to him, and he barely gave you a second to breathe before manoeuvring you over his lap.
There was something different about it this time. Something that felt more intimate, more gentle as he pet your head and murmured for you to count.
The first slap came too quickly - a sharp intake of breath of the pain burned on top of your sensitive skin.
"O-one."
You whimpered into the sheets. These felt worse than the belt, and some part of you wished he would grab it again so it could be less painful.
He slapped another three in a quick succession, all in the same place making you whine and push into him, barely able to hold back a gasp as the rough seam of his jeans brushed over your clothed clit.
Your hand reached back over your sore bottom, but he only tutted as he shifted his legs and used his spare hand to pull your hands away - "try that again, baby and I'm gonna start all over again. Now count."
"Two, three, f-four."
You could hear the sobs you held back as they weighed heavy in your throat.
"Told y' so many times this would happen," there was a quiet fury in his voice, "but did y'ever listen? No."
He slapped you twice, once over each of your upper thighs and despite the way you pushed away from him you couldn't help but slip your legs open a little wider, trying to feel the drag of his jeans against your cunt as something foreign burned low in your gut.
You shouldn't be feeling like this.
What was wrong with you?
You were sure there was a damp patch forming on your panties, and it wouldn't be long until Rick could see it. Still, his voice, the pain, the feeling of his muscled thigh under your twitching cunt. You couldn't help it.
A large smack sounded against your bottom, a cry escaping you.
"Even now, y' ain't paying attention. Do you even realise how dangerous it was that you left? That you never told anyone? What you did was stupid!"
He continued to throw slaps across your bottom, each one bringing you into a fit of sobs and cries as you hid your face in your arms whilst counting. Still, the burn began to grow into something more, and you couldn't help but push down against his lap to try and find some relief.
You had finally reached twenty, and it was as though the final slap across your tender flesh had broken a dam.
You sobbed and cried into your arms, apologies spilling from your lips as a flood of arousal and guilt and anger came over you once more. Anger at yourself. For leaving Alexandria after Rick told you not to. For shouting at him and telling him he meant nothing to you.
For liking the punishment.
Rick pulled up your body, pulling you into his chest. You whimpered as your tender bottom ached when you placed pressure on it. You wouldn't be able to sit down for days. Maybe weeks.
He held you against his chest, hushing you and murmuring praises into your ear as you hiccuped against him -"such a good girl. Took your punishment so good, didn't you? Did so good, baby."
You couldn't look him in the eye, unsure of what you would find. You sniffled quietly, tears calming at his petting and praises.
"You know what good girls like you deserve?"
The cadence of his voice lowered, but there was no hesitation in his words. The hand that brushed your hair drifted to your bare thighs, pushing apart your knees to rub circles into the soft flesh. His other arm tightened around your waist, reluctant to let you go.
"Rick..."
Your voice was shaky, unsure. You had a feeling you knew where this was going, but was it right? You hadn't even known Rick could have felt this way for you, but then again - sex was sex. And this must have riled him up as much as it did you.
He just wanted to burn off energy, and you were here - pliant and submissive to his wills.
His fingers traced their way closer to your panties, slipping under the waistband to stretch it out before letting it slap back against your skin.
"From the look of your panties, I'd say you enjoyed that a little too much," there was a hint of amusement in his voice, "but I think my girl deserves a reward for taking her punishment so well."
My girl.
His girl.
He doesn't give you a chance to reply, fingers slipping into your underwear to trace around the lips of your cunt, dipping in to carefully trace around the hole Rick had been dreaming of from the moment he saw you in that Terminus container - you looked like a quiet and timid girl, but he could see the wildfire that blazed through your eyes. The one that shone through whenever you were too close to death.
He had come to enjoy it and fear it. Afraid to see it because it meant you had brushed death once more, but the sight of it overtaking you burned him in a way he couldn't help but crave.
Your hands came to wrap tightly against his wrist as his fingers finally met your clit, quiet whimpers escaping you. They intensified into reluctant moans as he moved his fingers despite your hold, your hips rocking back into his lap as you whined at the ache of your bruised bottom.
He shushed you, bucking his hips up against the sore flesh as he held you tighter and sped up his fingers. He circled your clit, fingers dipping down to your hole and back up as he leaned down to press his lips against your ear.
"Does that feel good, baby? You like how daddy's touching you?"
You couldn't help but let your head fall against his shoulder, tears burning your eyes as you edged closer and closer.
How long had it been since you had been touched like this?
The only hands that had ever touched you had been your own, and you were sure they never made you feel like this.
Keeping his hands in your panties, he used his other arm to twist you so your back was against his chest. You could feel the subtle movements of his hips as he pushed up against you, and with the pain of your sore bottom, the pleasure of his hand between your thighs and the pleasurable groans of the handsome man behind you, you couldn't help but cant up your hips, encouraging him to move faster.
"Need more, please."
"Please, who?"
"Daddy," you couldn't help it when you moaned out the name, couldn't help when your hands reached back to twist in the strands of his hair and tug him forward as you twisted your neck to place pretty kisses against his jaw. Your head fell back against his shoulders as one of your hands slipped down to join his. He only tutted, biting your ear playfully before pulling his fingers out.
You couldn't help the tears that spilt as you whined for him to not stop.
He didn't listen to a word you said, standing up to throw you higher upon the bed. You watched as he grew frenzied, chest moving frantically with every breath as he clambered upon the bed. His lips reached for your neck, sucking and biting the flesh and leaving deep marks on your skin that you were sure everyone would see tomorrow. Still, you couldn't help but whimper and whine, hips tilting up in search of his heat to press against your own.
He littered kisses down your neck, the fingers that had just been inside of you tracing your soft lips before pushing inside to press against your tongue. You couldn't help but roll your eyes back as you tasted yourself on his fingers, whining as you sucked him clean.
His hand left your mouth, trailing down your throat to leave a wet streak as both his hands reached for your top, only to tear it in half so your breasts could spill from the material. He licked them, laving at them and sucking heavy marks.
His hands went to his pants, undoing the button and zipper to pull out his stiffened cock. You were barely able to take a glance before he filled your vision - him and his blue eyes, so dark and full of lust as he whispered against your lips.
"Gonna fill you so good baby, you want that, huh? Yes, you do. Gonna make you feel so good."
Before you could even whimper in reply, he pressed his tip against your hole. His breath caught in his throat, and your hands came to sit on his shoulders, only just realising he remained dressed whilst you were bare beneath him.
He shushed you, lips coming to press fluttering kisses against the dip of your throat as he pushed in further.
"So tight, baby. Doin' so good- almost there."
Almost felt like forever, your back arching as you ached to pull more of him in with a broken moan. His nose came to brush against yours as he gave shallow thrusts, pushing in deeper with every one. His tongue came to lick the plump flesh of your lips, and you couldn't help the broken whimper that escaped you as your lips parted and your tongue escaped to meet his own.
You moaned when he bit you tongue, feeling the way his lips twisted into a smirk as he pushed himself closer to press his lips against yours.
The kiss grew heated, a clash of teeth and a tangle of tongues and spit and moans as Rick's movements grew uncontrolled. He rocked deeper and further into your pretty cunt until he bottomed out, groaning against your lips as he enjoyed the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him. You couldn't help but tilt your hips down, grinding against him as you searched for friction against your clit.
Rick hiked one of your legs over his hip, lifting the other over his shoulder as he dragged you even closer.
He pulled back from your lips, a string of saliva attaching his reddened lips to your pouting ones as you looked up, seeking his gaze - his pupils were blown, drowning in lust as he pulled back his hips before thrusting back in. The motion jolted your body up the bed, a long whine escaping at the feel of his cock dragging in and out of your cunt with a delicious burn.
Fuck, was this what you had been missing out on for so long?
You suddenly wished Rick has spanked you sooner, especially if it was always going to end like this.
His thrusts were slow, each drag hot and delicious as he pulled back slowly only to thrust in with barley retrained lust. Your hands went to the base of his neck, twisting in his curls, and you tugged his closer to press your lips against his once more. He muttered praises against your lips, slipping his tongue in to meld against your own.
Your hands dipped lower, fingers brushing against the base of his cock causing his to jolt at the sensation, your head tipping back as the tip of his cock brushed against something that had you seeing stars.
Your hands slipped under his shirt, holding back a moan at the feeling of his skin against your palms - wanting to feel more, needing more.
"Rick- please."
His began trailing kisses down your jaw, biting the skin teasingly as he whispered against your flushed skin - "what do you need, baby? Hm? Tell me what you want."
"Fuck- need to feel you. Wanna touch you, Rick."
His thrusts slowed down to a stop, causing your eyes to burn with tears at the lack of stimulation as you reached for his shoulders when he pulled back. He tutted when you whined at him, pushing roughly into your hips, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
He pulled off his shirt, throwing it over his head as he readjusted your legs around his waist and gripped your hips tight. His hands went behind your back, pulling you up so you sat seated upon his lap with your chest pressed against his own.
He started slow once again, hips softly pushing into your own as the shallow thrusts causing your hardened nipples to brush against his chest, already sensitive from his abuse.
Your bottom burned at the new position, but you couldn't help the way it curled into a pleasurable heat as you rested your weight on your knees and took it upon yourself to fuck yourself on his heavy cock.
You pressed yourself further against Rick, panting in the crook of his neck as you hid your flushed face, a hand sneaking between your heated bodies to touch your aching clit.
"Shit. You makin' yourself feel good, sweetheart? Touchin' yourself like that."
"Feels s'good."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes back, pushing down harsher on his lap, desperate for his thick cock to hit that perfect spot again.
Rick bit your ear, a hand coming to wrap softly around your throat - "well, we can't have that now. Can we? That's my job, princess - makin' you cum."
His voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper, squeezing your throat in warning as you grew more desperate against him. His hand dropped to your hip, tightening against the flesh as he pulled you off his cock and positioned you onto all four's.
"Just can't let me have m' fun, can you? Gotta take care of y'rself, like I can't do it for you. Fuckin' brat, you are."
You placed your head in your arms, back arching as you pushed back in search of friction, voice laden with tears are you apologised.
"Sorry, Rick. Please, need you so bad."
"Oh, now you need me, baby?"
His hands came to rest on your bottom, squeezing the sore flesh of your cheeks as you groaned into your arms. He saw how your hole clenched at the sensation, holding back a groan of his own at the sight.
He leaned forward, pressing his hard cock against your cunt and grinding against it softly, ignoring the way you pushed back against him in a silent plea.
"What do you want, little girl?"
"You. Please, need you so bad."
"Need me to do what, hm? C'mon, use your words for daddy."
"Fuck- need you to fuck me, daddy. Wanna feel you inside me, wanna feel good. Plea-"
You couldn't finish your words, voice breaking out into a cry as he thrusted into you in one swoop. A long moan, broken and whining, echoed throughout the room, and you flushed at the idea your desperate voice could be heard from outside the window.
You held onto his wirst as his fingers finally met your clit, leaning back into his embrace as he traced vigorous circles onto your throbbing pussy.
Rick's hand twisted into your hair, tugging you back against him so he could grope your breasts with one hand and touch your desperate, wet cunt with the other. His fingers ghosted over your cunt, his head tilting back with a groan as he rammed into you relentlessly, endless whines escaping you as he brushed over that special place again and again and again.
Fuck.
"Atta girl, this what you wanted?"
You could only nod as you ground your hips against his hand, head tilting back to rest against his shoulder as you placed a hand on top of each of his own, pushing him to touch you harder. To leave his mark. To make it so that even when he had let you go, all you could feel was his touch.
"Yeah, didn't even need a spanking, did you? Just daddy's fat cock in your desperate little cunt, right?"
"Yes-yes, yes. Fuck, yes. Just needed you, Rick. Just daddy, please."
"What is it, baby? You close?"
You could tell from the way his voice wobbled, the way his muscles tensed behind you, the way his arms pulled you closer and his thrusts grew sloppy that he was too.
"Need to cum so bad-"
"Not until I say so, baby. I'm gonna cum so deep inside of you, gonna feel me for days. You want that?"
You couldn't help the tears that escaped you now, using every muscle in your body to try and stave off your orgasm as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His words only turned you on further, breaths shuddered as you twisted your face to hide in the crook of his neck with tears leaking.
"C'mon, sweetheart. Look at me, yeah?"
You met his gaze, only to have him press his lips against yours. You moaned desperately against him, hissing as he bit your lip before running his lip over it to soothe it.
He twisted you around on his cock so your tender breasts were pressed against his chest once more, moving to press you against the bed as his hands held onto your hips for dear life. He leaned over your body, lips hovering over your own as your nails scratched along his back, so deep you were sure they'd leave marks.
Good, you thought. You were sure your own body would experience a similar fate.
He leaned down to your ear, just as your pretty hole fluttered desperately around his fat cock - "cum."
He had whispered it, but you heard it for what it was. An order your body was aching to give into.
You broke out into a delectable whine, body seizing as your cunt clenched around him and milked him for all he was worth. He groaned against your ear, fingers pressing so deep into your flesh that you were sure his handprints would be bruised and buried into your skin.
You found you didn't mind.
He rocked gently into your hips as you overcame your collective high, sighing softly into the space between your lips as his tongue dipped in searching for your own.
You pressed your lips against his with a quiet sigh as your tongue brushed against his tentatively, and Rick couldn't help but twitch inside your warm and sopping cunt.
Shit, maybe he should've spanked you sooner. Especially if it meant he'd end up with his cock in that warm place between your thighs.
And it was also safe to say Rick didn't leave you on your own again. No, instead you were attached to his hip - and his cock. And it didn't take long until the others had caught on, with one too many of them catching an eyeful of the sinful acts.
It was safe to say that you never really did ignore the man's orders again. Not unless you were feeling particularly desperate for his attention.
Rick couldn't help it, though. With your bratty attitude and pretty cunt he couldn't get enough. And you had to admit, there was something addictive about that dominating power he held being placed upon you with his undivided attention. Who wouldn't crave such a thing?
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johnnys-breastmilk · 29 days
Text
URGGGGGEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! | zed necrodopolis x male!reader
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a/n — putting this as male reader because it's implied. not explicitly stated but I don't want to misadvertise the fic lol, gender neutral pronouns and body parts used. I don't really like the smut in this but the idea was funny to me… this fic will definitely be non-canon by the time Z4 releases!!
summary — Zed goes to Mountain College and gets a sex toy, his roommate comes to their shared dorm at a bad time.
words — 3k
warnings — smut! 18+ | implications of sex and actual sex occur, uses of the word "gooning", zed zombies out and they fuck so... feral!Zed, slight dubcon!! - first zombies fic so it may be ooc or just poorly written
~~~
Fall was in full swing at Mountain College. Soon the tops of roofs would be snowcapped and walkways would be sprinkled with salt, but for now, everyone tried to enjoy the weather while it was still warm. Sloping sides brought the occasional gusts of wind that all of the early morning go-getters had to deal with. They had to learn the hard way to bundle up if they wanted to make it to class without becoming the next monster to roam the Earth—probably as a snow yeti or something similar. The lecture halls were grand to handle the kind of metamorphosis a lot of human and inhuman students would be going through over the course of their early adult years. The only place where people were forced to grow together were the dorm rooms—as a push for inclusivity at Mountain College left everyone in close quarters to someone—or something—they had no clue existed before college. It was another thing to learn about, to understand that the small circle of your hometown isn’t the only circle to exist. People have groups that come in all shapes and sizes, and not all of them are going to fit together nicely, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be an effort. But there was one unspoken rule that everyone had to learn, regardless of their major: don’t enter a room with a tie, sock, or anything hanging off the door handle. Not at parties, not in classrooms—if there was such a thing to happen, and especially not at your dorm.
When Zed arrived at Mountain College, he never expected anyone to be as pro-zombie as they were. His roommate was insanely warm and kind to him. No one really hid who they were here. They were at that stage where they left the conformities of high school and living with their parents to being so overwhelmed with freedom that they had no way to grasp everything they had. The freedom; the new flaws determined by society were still unclear. Zed was one of those people, being free from the shackles of Seabrook and Zombietown’s driving force in unity to being another student in a sea full of them. It wasn’t to the same extent that he had gone through, but the established scene of breaking free from your past to start something new is what really pushed him to start trying things. He wanted to be a part of the community and to do that, you have to understand the area first. 
Zed started by doing most of his workouts around campus, then transitioning over to the city that was built around Mountain College. The short drive down to the city below could be completed in a timely manner during a daring jog down the road leading to the developed area. He never wore more than a tank top and shorts for his morning runs. The college was north of the city, so he only ever rarely went into the downtown area during his morning runs. He decided to go farther on his run today since he had an upcoming game and needed to burn off the endless brain-fest for dinner from the night before. So many calories, so little scores during his big game was how he viewed it.
Most of the shops still weren’t open, but there was one on this block that was still open. It turns out that the shop was not opening early in the morning, but in fact, closing after a very late night. The neon signs had yet to be turned off, and one reading ‘OPEN’ in big illuminated letters drew his attention. Next to it was a red triple-X sign.
The fleshlight was cobbled together with scraps and carefully welded parts to resemble the repurposed items of Zombietown. It reminded him of home, and the clerk told him that the toy was advanced, deceiving the average person by appearing to only be made of scraps and to have the basic, archaic function of just fucking it. Inside it was a hidden set of magnetic coils that both provided the correct amount of electromagnetic pulses through the zombie’s dick to prevent them from turning into the much more unpleasant version of themselves and it heightened the feeling of jerking off while the machine made contact with the skin from the inside.
He listened to what the clerk had to say about remembering to take off his Z-Band so it wouldn’t overstimulate him to the point of numbness, and that the side effects of it were mainly just slowed brain activity from “too much gooning.” As Zed would be quick to learn, it was called going cockdumb. There was the opposite, too, where his zombie side would forfeit all rational thought and quickly take whatever the closest thing to fuck is around to poundtown.
He learned quickly, though, and did as he said when he got back to his dorm. The order of instructions was simple: get yourself ready—get your dick hard, is how he interpreted it, take off the Z-Band, and use the fleshlight to calm all of his zombie urges. Before he started any of that, though, he placed one of his ties around the door handle facing the hallway. Then he got undressed, stripping down until the full-body mirror over his closet’s sliding door reflected his pale figure and vibrant green hair. He stood in the frame, checking out his recent gains for a second—still eternally lanky, but he was starting to fill out in the places that mattered.
His hands roamed over his body until he got down to his nether regions. Zed rubbed his dick until he was hard enough to stick his dick in the fleshlight, then watched in the mirror as he took off his Z-Band. The area around his eyes started to darken and dark veins started coursing all over his body. He took a few deep breaths before reaching for the fleshlight, each breath drawn in becoming more raspy as his insides changed in a way he couldn’t see. Carefully, holding on to it with an intentionally lighter grip so as to not overuse his own strength, he guided it over his cock and watched his tip disappear into the slit. He moaned, it was tight. He moaned again, it was vibrating. And then he looked back up at his reflection, the monstrous features were gone. 
Zed never told you about his little reveries into sex and pleasure as the weeks went on. After that faithful day, he found that he came harder and started to crave the feeling of release more and more. The feeling was simply addictive to him: a mix of tingles from the electro-pulses and genuine pleasure from the stimulation. But with how frequently he did it, there was bound to be a day where mistiming or miscommunication would expose him in the act. Today was that day.
It was around two in the afternoon, the ground was covered in a thin layer of snow and Zed had stopped his morning runs in favor of a quick indoor exercise and then moved to jerking off while the sun rose—you were returning to your shared dorm with the zombie from a lecture, notably earlier than usual. It was a Gen-Ed for biology, something that Zed had learned when you approached him one night in the hopes of having him help you. If he remembered correctly, it was about zombies—a newly implemented unit in the curriculum, now finding its way into its own circle of life. New studies emerged about the carbon emission of their dead cells that Zed couldn’t help with, but he explained how he felt that he functioned and the way he and plants interacted. That was at the beginning of the semester and it was how he found out that your class ran until around two-thirty. Usually.
Zed was enjoying his time inside for a change. Having finished his classes for the day and feeling the testosterone of his morning workout preserved through it all, he decided the best thing to do during his alone time was to use his broken-in toy. Zed was confident enough to not hide his sex life—well, he was confident enough to act like he was having sex with someone else, not his sex toy or the fact that he edged himself until he literally couldn’t hold it in anymore. That part was thankfully undisclosed by everyone since they knew not to enter his dorm, but you entered without thinking. He was laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling like the white ceiling was painted over with the limitless stream of thoughts flowing out of his head. His eyes were shut, soft moans slipped out and he barely shifted the fleshlight on his dick out of the fear of blowing his load too early.
His load threatening to come out dissipated quickly, though, when he heard the door handle click. Then the hydraulic mechanisms that would normally push the door shut started to whir as it opened. He reached for the blanket he slept under, letting the fleshlight hang off his dick so he could find something to cover himself up. He was mad at himself for slipping into the habit of playing with himself while naked, but it was so much easier to bunch his comforter up against the wall and lay in bed with easy access to all of his holes. In the seconds—which felt even shorter for him—he covered his lower half and just accepted that you would see his bare torso. With enough smooth talking, he could convince you that he had just woken up from a nap. 
“Don’t be mad.” You said, coming in, hoping that he wasn’t with a naked girl or anything. You tried keeping your view of the inside of the room as limited as possible by turning your head just in case. “But I got out early ‘cause of the weather and I saw the sock…”
The only issue was that his fleshlight was forming a bump in his sheets, meaning that he couldn’t be laid down without it looking like he had a huge dick—or what would be the more reasonable explanation: he had a sex toy. Either way, it looked unnatural. So while you were still acclimating to the sight of him, purposefully looking away to give him time to cover up. You were still under the impression that someone else was in there, but you heard the clatter of something hit the floor, followed by a hasty curse under his breath.
You decided that you had given him long enough and finally looked into your shared dorm room. On the floor was a machine made out of old zombie parts that seemed to have broken into pieces, scattered around a pair of bare feet that padded around the carpet in panic. Your eyes trailed up to see Zed, naked and with a raging hard dick. Still freshly coated from the lube he pumped into his fleshlight, still wet enough to glisten in the sunlight pouring in the window behind him. And to say he was naked didn’t mean much, because he was truly naked—no Z-Band in sight on his body. His dick was red for only a second before the veins on it darkened along with the rest of his body. 
Somehow, his dick looked to be bigger, more intimidating. The dark shade it turned caused it to look like anything but slimming. His chest started heaving and that drew you to his arms, bulging with thick black veins that trailed up his arms and increasingly curved arms. They started finding their way to his midsection until his hands reached his dick. Neither one touched his pulsing cock, but motioned around it as if he knew that the fleshlight was unusable. He started fucking the air like he knew the presence of it from his more conscious and tame state.
Incoherently, through a gust of grunts and growls, he started speaking. It sounded like the friendly words he used during your past exchanges but were blatantly needy and desperate. You couldn’t quite hear what he said, so you moved closer under the assumption that he still had some control. Some sense of sanity without his Z-Band on. But as soon as you were within his reach…
Zed grabbed you, pulling you closer to his naked form. You looked at the dark circles around his eyes before meeting his actual eyes. A few words slipped through—as if he could still recall the language he had used for years somewhere deep in his brain—slurring out a loose connection of words that sounded like: “You break it… I break you…”
Zed’s mind was everywhere yet nowhere at once. His feral side was feeling and processing all of the emotions from his “human” side. So many things in his head were whirring for the first time in a while, and nothing was shutting down to compensate for the rising new emotions of rapacity—the urge to have it all and take it all. His head was already running at one-hundred and ten percent so now he needed to claim things in the room. To make things his. His room; the little voice in the back of his head that he suppressed about being annoyed by the fact that he had to share a room with you was finally being heard. You’d walk out of this—or better yet, be carried—with a new perspective on ownership.
Sex with Zed was fast. The urges brought on by his true zombie nature allowed him to rip off the clothes you wore to attend class. They were in shreds, adding to scattered bits of his broken toy, some landing on the sharper parts of it so that you didn’t have to worry about stepping on something painful as he guided you to his bed. It was the closest one to him and the easiest to throw you down on since the sheets were all undone, unmade. He would make you a mess in the next few moments so it didn’t really matter to him.
But for the first time, Zed was faced with a challenge in his zombie brain. He had put you on his bed—the faint smells of sex and sweat emanating into your nose from how much he jerked off in his bed, typically covered by his comforter—but now he looked at you, laid on your back, head on his pillow, and he was faced with one of two choices: did he want to cum in your mouth or your ass? He wanted to do both, and he hit his head in frustration, grunting. The simple thoughts his undead brain was meant to handle couldn’t stomach this as easily as brains.
A feeling deep within him told him that your ass would bring him the greater amount of pleasure, so he hopped on the bed with you, kneeling. His increased strength allowed him to lift your legs easily and with an unmatched haste. Your hole was in clear sight, and he wasted no time in burying himself down into it and lapping away. It was another sensation he had, thanks to consuming a million videos of porn in his spare time. That, and he was still a zombie. Flesh was something that he wanted to taste during his feral frenzy. It was the only thing his tongue tasted: the saltiness of skin. He felt so good, and you wanted to bury your fingers in his vibrant green hair to push him deeper into you, but that seemed a little too risky in his current state. Besides, he didn’t stay down there long. His head reared up a few moments after going down on you, his clear intention to fuck you until he comes, not the other way around.
Thanks to already fucking his fleshlight, his dick was still coated in lube; still sheening with its slick surface reflecting the light. When he put his dick in, he didn’t feel any friction, and he wouldn’t have cared if he did. The friction didn’t bother him and if it didn’t bother him, then it shouldn’t bother you. It never became a problem, though.
Zed decided that the perfect position to keep you in was with your legs over each of his thin shoulders. He started thrusting, taking little to no time to go as fast as he could. He was desperate, uncaring if you needed time to adjust. But, like everything else about his zombie-heightened feelings, what it took to make him cum went up too—much higher than his regular edging point. 
Zed was a quick learner. He found which spots made you feel the best—well, which ones made your face twist and your head turn into his pillow as he fucked you. That seemed to make him climb to the peak faster than anything else. Your ass was tight and soft, sure, but it was your reaction to how he dominated you with his big dick that really made him get going. He unleashed a flurry of moans that were deeper than the voice you got used to hearing.
Wet sounds and slapping filled the room until he came for the first time. You could feel your ass burning from the rough slapping and the way he kept up the skin-to-skin contact—breeding you until he was out of breath. Just like when he first transformed into the beastly version of himself. 
Zed pulled his dick out and you could hear the wet gushing, as well as the feeling of your hole leaking with his cum. He must have been really pent-up because it was already ruining his sheets and still seeping out of the tip of his dick. You looked around for his Z-band, still gathering your surroundings and acclimating yourself to the point-of-view of his bed. It looked to be on his dresser and within arm’s reach, so you went to grab it. But Zed stopped you, guiding your hand to his dick that was still hard. This was going to be a long night…
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enmi-land · 1 month
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STARBOYZ
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📄 ◜ ────𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗮𝗱: 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱.
ʬʬʬ. 2024 pairing. poly!wonki x f!ocmember req. mila's reaction to le'official photoshoot + spicy wonmi moment cw. flirting, lowkey unsafe driving (stay safe on the roads kids), alcohol, profanity, teasing (wonki being little shits), not proofread BACK TO LIBRARY ?!
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PEOPLE OFTEN SAID THAT GOOD THINGS CAME IN THREES. But clearly, that was because they never got to see the things that Mila got up to with Jungwon and Riki when the three of them were left alone.
They were not the type of young people who would paint the city walls in graffiti, smoke cigarettes in the alleyway, or blast music in the neighbourhood while everyone else tried to sleep—but they did rise with the moon and stars, living it up in the late hours of night. 
Mila would blame it on the constant surveillance and the never ending list of criticism aimed towards her from a young age. But she had grown a rebellious spirit, and she never behaved longer than needed to. It was only midnight when she found herself lacing up her shoes, looking left and right as she opened the door to her room, trying not to wake the others as she tiptoed her way across the dorm and towards the door. 
“Where are you going?”
Mila almost jumped out of her skin at the sight of Riki pulling on a shirt as he walked towards her, eyes taking in the sight of her sneaking out of the dorms like a burglar in the night. 
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Mila asked.
“I should be asking you that,” Riki whispered back. He wordlessly reached over the top of Mila’s head, taking a pair of shoes from the rack. He smirked at the look on her face. “You think I’d let you walk out on the streets at night alone?”
Mila rolled her eyes, but conceded to the younger’s point. She didn’t mention that she had secretly hoped that he would be awake at this time. They always used each other as an excuse, but the truth was, both of them stayed up this late for the sole purpose of their late night dates while the rest of the group (and the city) remained fast asleep. It was routine now, a tradition. And while they weren’t really the type to follow rules religiously, this was one of the few they were keen on keeping.
It was also why none of them flinched when Jungwon walked up from behind them, already dressed for the nighttime chills. “Who’s driving?” 
Mila smiled, waving her keys, causing the boys to smirk at each other before they filed out the door. They were gone like the wind, and just as fast, speeding down the highway with 100 on the dash and volume up to max. It was a new kind of high, the type that didn’t need alcohol or drugs, but just the thrill of the chase and the freedom under their wings.
Mila let out a sigh at the feeling of the city air blowing against her face. A hand crept its way up her knee and a coy smile played upon her lips. Jungwon gave her a smirk through the rearview mirror. The warmth of his hand seeped through the fabric of her leggings as it fitted perfectly over the shape of her thigh, rubbing and up down in gentle motions that sent a trail of goosebumps even without feeling skin to skin.
Her fingers tightened their way around the steering wheel, and she glanced at the boy in the backseat of the car. But Riki’s eyes were already on her, a finger tracing his bottom lip in thought, before he snapped out of his daze upon seeing her eyes meet his. He flashed a charming grin. She laughed, shaking her head.
“Let’s get something for back home.” Mila turned into the next lane before pushing down on the accelerator, the laughs of her boyfriends echoing as they sped down the empty road. 
Indeed, the three of them got up to antics that only they and the heavens above were privy to—and maybe, if they were unlucky, one of the elder members, who would be waiting on the couch with crossed arms and tired eyes after seeing three empty beds and a missing set of keys. 
“Shhh,” Mila shushed, trying to hold in her giggles as she and the two boys opened the door back to their dorms, carrying bags of cheap wine and sugary snacks with carbs that would have their company stocks crashing faster than their manager’s blood sugar. They must have gotten lucky, though, since the couch—the watchtower, as they liked to call it—was empty, lacking a pair of eyes to glare at them as they snuck into their own homes.
They threw open the door to her room, tossing the bags onto the empty bed that belonged to Mila. Riki was the first to lay down, arms resting beneath his head as he watched Mila discard the cap that she used to keep her hair down and her face covered. Jungwon took a seat on the edge. Mila hummed as she grabbed a bottle of peach soju, throwing herself onto the bed, her head hitting Riki’s chest, earning a quiet “oof.”
“Cheers,” she said, popping the cap and raising the bottle in salute. She brought the mouth to her lips, only to pout in disappointment when it was stolen by Jungwon. “Hey. That was mine.”
“That’s no good for you,” Jungwon said, placing the bottle on the bedside table. Mila scrunched up her nose, huffing in indignation at the leader-like display. “No, not a leader, just a good boyfriend.” Jungwon leaned down, his lips hovering over hers. “Any problems with that?”
Mila giggled. She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down so that she could kiss him properly on the lips. She hummed in delight, pulling away only to whisper her approval. “You taste better anyway.”
Riki scoffed, rolling his eyes. But not even two seconds later, he had his hands in her hair, long fingers threading through the strands like silk and lifting the ends to his lips to place a gentle kiss. His lips travelled down to her cheek, his large hands grasping her hair in a ponytail in order to reveal the expanse of her collarbones and shoulders to him through her oversized hoodie.
“You smell nice,” he whispered against her neck, his nose nuzzling into the skin there to detect the traces of her strawberry and mint scent. Mila giggled at the ticklish sensation, only to gasp when Jungwon suddenly did the same to her other side, his body caging her against Riki’s chest. She couldn’t see anything behind him because of the wideness of his broad shoulders, her chest pressing against his with every breath.
“What are you doing?” Mila asked, earning a small chuckle from the younger.
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
Mila sighed, her hands trailing the outline of his shoulders. The three of them were silent, save for the sounds of kisses shared between them in between the gaps. Mila didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but she didn’t move until she checked her phone—and didn’t say a word until she gasped at the sight of her two boyfriends from their new photoshoot posted everywhere across her page.
“What’s this?” she asked, scandalised, as she clicked on the image of the two posing together: Riki in a low cut top and blazer, and Jungwon wearing a similar jacket, only without a shirt underneath. Her lips fell in a silent gasp of shock at the outline of his toned chest peeking through the blazer, just enough to satisfy the imagination of those who saw it. “What. The. Fuck?”
Riki and Jungwon laughed when Mila sat up, before turning on them with wide eyes. “You cheaters,” she seethed, “You absolute lunatics!” She whacked the youngest of the two on the chest, causing him to laugh while simultaneously rubbing the area to soothe the nonexistent pain. “You’re barely an adult, who gave you the right?” She rounded on Jungwon, who raised his eyebrows. “And you! Oh, I know that you did not—Mph!”
Mila barely got to say another word before Jungwon was pulling her towards him, swallowing her list of protests before they even left her lips. She responded all too eagerly, pulling his collar towards her and using it to hold him there until she received her full. But he had snatched the control from her by grasping her wrists, forcing them apart as he pushed her back down onto the bed again. By the time they parted, she had lost all her energy. She simply panted as Jungwon held her wrists next to her head, resting his forehead against hers while admiring her flushed features.
“You two,” she said breathlessly, “are going to be the end of me.”
“So you liked them?” Riki asked cheekily, playing with the ends of her hair.
Mila groaned. “I hate them. They’re too good. You look too handsome—and oh my god, the outfits. No. I can’t do this.” Riki opened his mouth to speak, only to be glared at. “Don’t even test me. I’m going to need all the patience I have so I can fight off all the fangirls who are going to be throwing themselves at you.”
“You’re insane,” Riki laughed.
“Insane for you,” Mila said with a sigh. She covered her face with her hands. “Ugh. They’re burnt into my eyelids now—those damned photos.”
Riki and Jungwon shared an amused look at their girlfriend’s reaction, loving the way she was so affected and that they were the reason for it. Jungwon pecked her cheek. “We’re right here you know. We’re literally your boyfriends—who cares about photos, when you have the real thing in front of you?”
“I’m done.”
“Eyyy,” Riki said. “But we didn’t even get to ask who you thought looked better.”
Jungwon hummed. “Doesn’t matter. It’s all about who makes her more flustered.”
Riki laughed. “Oh yeah? Let’s ask her then.” Riki leaned down to Mila’s ear. “Take a look at us now, okay? I want to know who makes your heart go faster.”
Mila spread her fingers apart to take a glimpse of the two boys. And that was her biggest mistake. Because as soon as she did, she was subject or the sight of them looking down at her, their bedridden hair falling across their foreheads while the light of her bedside lamp cast a glow onto their honeyed skin. There was no getting started on their smiles either—those smug little smirks that they flashed because they knew exactly what effect they had on her.
No good, Mila thought. They were absolutely no good.
(But that was exactly why the three of them went so well together.)
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TAGLIST @em1ejiee @menichoi @dracoslovergirl @rosas-in-the-garden @blossominghunnie @lovelypham @cornenhapovs @nee-issaire @berrycream408
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garadinervi · 2 years
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Bartolomeo Vanzetti, Background of the Plymouth Trial, Road to Freedom Group, Boston, MA, 1926, pp. 37-38 (pdf here) [STARS – Showcase of Text, Archives, Research & Scholarship, UCF Libraries Special Collections, University of Central Florida Libraries, Orlando, FL]
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dwellordream · 9 months
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"she's patriarchy-pilled" and why it doesn't apply to fictious pseudo-medieval women
a pretty common meta commentary leveled at certain female characters in ASOIAF is that you can divide the women of the setting into two groups.
the first group is full of strong feminist women who resist the patriarchy in all corners, and who refuse to submit to victimhood. the second group is full of placid, smug sheep, who enjoy being weak and condescended to by men.
reasons why this is bullshit:
comparisons between modern day 'trad wives' or 'red pilled women' who advocate for rejecting feminism and returning to lives of happy homemaking and female submission and fictional characters living in a pseudo medieval world just... don't work well.
Westeros has never had a feminist movement. there is no sense of 'getting back to tradition' because they are still living in a feudal patriarchy. while internalized misogyny can still be displayed in the books, and women certainly judge other women, these characters aren't actually 'rejecting their own freedom', because they quite literally have no choice in the matter.
for example, while a woman in 21st century America might willingly quit her job or drop out of school for a relationship with a man, a female character like Catelyn or Alicent or Cersei... isn't actually sacrificing hopes of a career or an education. they are being shunted down a path with little to no alternatives.
sometimes fans go "well, they could have run away! they could have joined the Faith?" how? with what money and resources? who is going to protect them on the road? how are they going to subvert the will of their fathers/brothers/etc?
don't get me wrong. there are absolutely unironic examples of internalized misogyny in ASOIAF. Cersei, for example, spends much of her time sneering at and degrading other women for being victims or weak-willed. HOWEVER, what many fans don't seem to grasp, is that being sexist towards other women doesn't magically make Cersei 'win' at the patriarchy. she herself is still abused, demeaned, and used as a political pawn, well into her tenure as Queen Regent.
in the endless battle of Sansa versus Arya stans, for example, Sansa stans will often claim that Arya is 'not a victim' and 'deserves less sympathy than Sansa', because Arya for a time is treated as a young boy and has training with a sword. yet this ignores the fact that Arya is still constantly threatened with or exposed to sexual violence, even while masquerading as a boy, and while she can defend herself in some instances, is far from this super-powered action chick on a 'fun road trip in the Riverlands'.
conversely, Arya stans will insinuate that Sansa 'deserves less sympathy than Arya' because 'being at court is what she always wanted' and 'the patriarchy favors her due to her self-serving, submissive ways'. yet this ignores the fact that while Sansa has more material privileges than Arya, being afforded regular meals, a soft place to sleep, and the veneer of civility, she is still regularly viciously abused by Joffrey and his Kingsguard, and ostracized and isolated from the rest of the court. Sansa's not winning any competition here.
to move on to Catelyn, many of Catelyn's proud 'antis' will claim that Catelyn is a woman who willingly and knowingly profits off the patriarchy while condemning women who do not fit that mold. yet while Catelyn and Arya's relationship is complex, we also see Catelyn treat Brienne and the Mormont women, all female warriors, with warmth and kindness, and there is an underlying current of resentment and anger in her chapters towards the men in her life, even though she is in many ways the 'ideal Westeros wife'.
finally, to dabble briefly in HOTD, Rhaenyra and Alicent's different reactions to the prospect of marriage and motherhood are often compared to triumph Rhaenyra's strong will and sense of rebellion. while Rhaenyra's determination to choose her own spouse and her disregard for the ridiculous notion of 'virginity' should be admired, she is also actively groomed by her uncle, a man thrice her age, and she ultimately does agree to an arranged marriage with Laenor.
meanwhile, Alicent is often derided by fans for 'allowing herself to be used as a pawn', yet this ignores the fact that Alicent is a 14/15 year old girl with no incomes or property of her own, who does not even have the threat of a dragon to demand respect. what was Alicent meant to do? kick and scream as she was dragged down the aisle? defy her father and the King, and be, best case scenario, permanently ostracized from court and her family for it? this sort of blatant victim-blaming dominates in the tumblr HOTD fandom.
in conclusion: to claim that women play no role in promulgating patriarchal and misogynistic views is silly.
women do play an active role in shaming and abusing other women, and this is often handed down from mothers to daughters. it allows patriarchs the veneer of genteel nature, in that the 'dirty work' of berating young girls for not conforming is passed off on mothers, sisters, and aunts.
however, in fandom discussions, the the woobification of male characters is so strong that we spend most of our time blaming women alone for patriarchal restrictions and values, as if it were something girls developed in their free time, purely for their own amusement.
to imply that a character in a fictional feudal patriarchy has the same range of choices and autonomy as modern day women do is absurd. the trad-wife movement is defined by its knowing, pseudo-intellectual rejection of second and third wave feminism. the entire point is to turn away from abortion, from birth control, from reproductive and LGBT rights, to leave behind women's suffrage, sex positivity, and criticism of gender roles.
but what do Westerosi women have to 'reject', exactly? they're not playing with the same full deck.
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catsteeth · 29 days
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The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog
Sandor Clegane x reader
+:✿ Chapter - 7 ✿:+ Fork In The Road.
1-2-3-4-5-6-_-8
Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 
CW: SMUT MDNI, afab reader, cock warming, P in V sex, unprotected sex (Wrap it up), Fem Dom (if you squint), VIOLENCE, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, 
A/N: this was part of a much longer chapter so the next chapter should come out pretty soon too teeheehee. 
Word Count: 4437
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You remembered the first night at kings landing alone. without your fathers protection, you missed, no matter how futile it might have been. 
you wanted to scream and cry “father keep me, father stay with me, father hold me” but you couldn’t. you couldn’t make a sound. you felt numb, if someone had sliced your hand open with a blade you’d not have noticed. sometimes tears would fall from your eyes straight into the ground and you’d not even noticed you were tearing up. 
that’s the hardest part of being so hard was that when you cracked it shattered more than you noticed. more than you’d be comfortable admitting even to yourself. 
when you mother and brother died your father feared you’d be turn mute for good. 
that’s what intrigued Sandor most. 
you suffered silently. you suffered with expertise. 
once he’d known your heart. your loyalty, devotion, and your fearlessness was when his fascination turned into something deeper. He thought it was obsession and maybe it was, but it was more personal than that too. Poets would call it love. He’d call it nothing. He’d never spoken of it therefore it had no language. It was just what he felt, he knew he cared that was it and that was all he’d admit. 
A day had past since your escape. You both were hungry, he especially. 
You were beginning to enjoy the freedom that came with this new way of life, however. There were downsides. The constant exposure to the elements, the lack of food, hot water, and the lingering fear. Fear of being caught, fear of what was happening now to your cousin, and what Loras would think of you leaving. 
But you had freedom, no more hand maidens pawing at you the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep. You no longer had to endure the torment of the Lannister's. No longer had to marry a man you didn’t love, not really anyway. 
As you rode that day, you stopped to water the horses. As you did, a group of five men were riding down the trail behind you. You looked back at them as you heard the sound of their horses trotting. 
“Don’t look at em’” Sandor grumbled, not looking at you. You looked back to, Lika. 
You pet Lika, trying to distract yourself as you felt a pit in your stomach. A pit of dreadful anxiety. You always felt that same anxiety every time you knew something terrible was coming. 
“Don’t fuckin’ look at em’." He grumbled even lower this time as the men came closer. You looked at him and he was looking right back at you. Until his gaze went back to the water Stranger was drinking from. 
It was a large watering hole, so it wasn’t surprising to Sandor when the five men stopped there as well to water their horses. 
As soon as they did, Sandor walked closer towards you, guarding their view of you with his form. 
The group of men were a little rowdy, and they looked over to you and Sandor. 
“Hello there, friends!” A bald man shouted, and your stomach dropped. 
Sandor looked over at the man, show him that permanent scowl on his face.
“I know you, you’re the hound, Joffrey's Dog.” A man with longer hair shouted again.
“How far til Saltpans?” The hound asked ignoring the mans comment. 
“I reckon a day. Maybe another if you’re unlucky.” The bald man said. 
Sandor took the answer and left it at that. Looking away. 
“What’re you doing out there? Far from Kings Landing.” The Stout man said.
“I heard Joffrey's hound ran from the battle of the blackwater.” A tall and dark man said, he seemed angrier than the other men. 
His tone made Lika spook slightly.
“Easy.” You whispered to Lika, stroking her snout. 
“Pretty creature you got there.” the stout man said, you had the feeling he wasn’t talking about Lika, his eyes were on you.
Sandor stepped in front of the mans view of you, “You’ve got food there?” The men had sacks of what looked like food, and a lot of it. “Bring me it.” 
“You got something to trade for it?” The tall man asked
“Not a thing.” The Hound said, it made you want to roll into a ball. He was aggressively confident. 
“Now Dog, we know that ain’t true.” The tall man said tilting his head to get a better look at you. 
“Your cunt friend speaks like that again and I’ll cut out his fucking tongue.” The Hound hissed
“Oh but he’s right the crowns offering a pretty penny for you my friend.” The bald man said.
“And you think you’re the ones to collect it?” The Hound asked with his eyebrows raised.
“Five of us, one of you, and the girl.” The taller man taunted.
“Tell you what, we’ll make a deal with you. It’s been a long journey for the five of us. We don’t want the trouble. We’ll let you go even give ye’ some of our food… for a go at your pretty friend there.” The stout man tried to ‘reason’ with the group.
“Fuck you.” You said with the same ever present venom in your voice. 
The group of men began to laugh at your words, but when the Hound stepped forward with his grip on the tilt of his sword made their laughter falter. 
“Ye have any fuckin’ sense you’ll drop the food and leave.” The Hound spoke coldly.
“You don’t seem to understand the situation.” The tall man spoke. 
“I understand if any more words come pouring out any one of yer cunt mouths, I’m gon’ have to kill each one ye.” He stepped forward once more
“You gonna die for some broken in whore-” The stout man wasn’t able to finish his sentence before The Hound stormed towards them. The men caught off guard were late to draw their swords. 
The first to go was the closest to him, the bald one. Unable to draw his sword in time, the Hound cut him down, nearly in half with one blow. You’d never seen anything like it, no, you had. It was like when Gregor cut his horse in half with one blow. You could stew on that thought long before he moved on to the next man.
The tall one, who at that point was able to draw his sword. Their swords clashed together, the Hound kicked his knees in, making the man drop to the ground. That's when he plunged his sword into his chest. He huffed as he retracted it from the mans body. 
He moved forward to the next man, a man with long hair. He seemed startled by the whole scene unfolding. He threw his sword to the ground and raised his hands up quitting. Sandor rolled his eyes and huffed in frustration, he lowered his sword and punched the man so hard his neck must have snapped. 
As the man hit the ground Sandor approached the stout man who said the final words that broke him. The stout man tried to climb his horse but Sandor pulled him down to the ground. Sandor loomed over him as he began to beat him with his hands.
“Say it again!” he shouted again and again as his fist plummeted into the man’s face again and again. 
You were so entranced by this violent dance unfolding in front of you, you’d hardly realized he’d only killed three men, the fourth was under his fist now, and the fifth was… 
“Sandor!” You shouted as the fifth man jumped onto his back. The man was able to cut the Hounds cheek with his nails, deeper than one would expect. The man tried to strangle him from behind, but Sandor was too tall and too wide for the man to. Sandor got ahold of the man, as he did Sandor managed to snap his neck. 
He turned his attention back to the stout man who was still breathing.  
Sandor took out his knife and stabbed it into the mans heart, wiped the blood on the mans sleeve. 
He approached you, he was covered in blood. Huffing and puffing, he put his blade back in its sheave. He picked you up by your waist and sat you on Lika. 
“Sandor…” You mumbled as you looked down at your clothes that he inadvertently smeared blood on. 
He grumbled something that sounded something like “Sorry”, as he walked back over to the bundles of food still attached to the abandoned horses. As he untied each one, and carried all of them back to your horses, you couldn’t help but admire his strength. One man would struggle to carry just one but he could called all three without struggle.
꒰ ୨୧ ─・┈ ꒱꒱
You had washed your pants, your wool sweater, and Sandor's armor, in the water after the attack. They laid out on a near rock as they dried. You two sat beside one another in front of a warm fire. 
Sandor sloppily shoveled meat and bread into his mouth with his large brutish hands. You watched him, in awe. How he could have killed five men and less than an hour later be eating like a king. 
“Eat.” Sandor said with a mouth full of food. you shook your head, “Fuck-” He hissed under his breathe, ripping a piece of meat off and holding it up to your mouth, “I’m not that imp lord, I won’t let you starve. You can eat it or I'll make you eat it.” You pouted a little, looking from his eyes to the piece of food in his hands. You took his wrist and moved his hand closer to your mouth as you ate in as he wished, from his fingers. 
As you chewed it your face scrunched up, “It’s-” 
“Shit” He said shoveling more into his mouth.
“Hardly worth dying for.” You said as you grabbed some bread, hoping it’d be better than the meat.
“Those cunts didn’t die for the fucking food.” Sandor grumbled, 
You stopped chewing for a moment and looked at him. His words, brutal but in some indecent way romantic. He’d kill five man for simply insulting you.
You watched him eat, in... adoration? Awe? Who knows. You watched him eat, and noticed the cut on his face still bleeding.
“Your face-“ You said reaching out to touch his cut cheek, he grabbed your wrist stopping you, “Stop it.” You rolled your eyes as you commanded and he actually gave in, letting go of your wrist. You ran you hand against his cheek, he looked down, avoiding your eyes. He pushed away his food, “come here.” You spoke softly. Instead of him coming closer he pulled you onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around you.
You used your sleeve to tap the blood away from his cut. Dapping at it trying to stop the bleeding.
“I told you… no one is ever gonna hurt you again.” He whispered, looking into your eyes.
“I don’t want you hurt either.” You said still trying to stop his bleeding,
“Too late for that.” He grumbled.
You leaned in and kissed his lips incredibly gently, running your hands against the sides of his face, letting them run down to his neck.
“I don’t deserve this,” He rasped as your lips parted, 
You kissed his nose, “Too late for that.” You gently rubbed your nose against his own just before you kissed him again.
You kissed him deeper, but softly. His hands ran through your hair. He admired the length of it, the texture of it, the color of it, and the smell of it. 
You moved you leg over his lap. He kept at petting your hair, his hands traveled down to your lower back, the other to your thigh. You knew he was going to push you onto your back. So you stopped him, moving his hands to your hips. “Gentle” You whispered into his mouth. 
You began to rock your hips back and forth against his now stiffening cock. He groaned into your mouth. Your kisses still soft and gentle, but now increasingly sloppy. 
You felt his hands begin to ready himself to flip you on your back again. So once again you stopped him. “A mans meant to fuck his woman.” 
“I’m your lady?” You teased him with a subtle smirk as you kissed his jaw
“Well, youre not anyone else’s that for fuckin' sure.”
You pulled his cock out, grinding your clothed cunt against it, rocking your hips against it making his thighs flex involuntarily. He began to paw at your small clothes. 
“I’ll fucking rip these off you if you don’t take em off.” 
You grabbed him by his jaw with both your hands forcing him to look you in the eyes. “I told you to be gentle.” Your grip softened as his hands wrapped around your back. “Let me be sweet for you.” You whispered into his mouth. 
You moved your small clothes to the side and pushed his cock inside of you, slowly. You were wet, but not wet enough for it to not sting a little. 
You winced a little, “Nphm” You whined a little. 
“Thats what happens when you don’t let me-” You cut him off by kissing him again, 
Once his cock was in you, just barely brushing your cervix, you stopped moving. You just held him while you kissed him. 
He bucked his hips, hitting your cervix in a way that made you arch your back.  
“Don’t move,” You whispered in his ear, licking and nibbling on it lightly.
“The fuck are you doing-” he growled but then let out a small moan from your tongue on his ear.
“Shut up.” You said into his ear in a breathless moan as you felt yourself getting wetter. Fitting him better, molding around his now familiar shape. 
It made him growl under his breathe, gripping onto the plushness of your hips. 
“You’re playing a dangerous game, woma-” You cut him off again kissing him deeply, sucking on his tongue. He moaned into your mouth, and he bit your lip. 
You lifted your tunic over your head, tossing it beside you. You still had on the top half of your small clothes. 
Sandor leaned down and began sucking at your breasts through the fabric, his hands caressing them gently. But his grip tightened as you let out a moan and he felt you tighten around his cock. 
He growled into your breasts, the vibration from it made you even wetter, soaking his cock and only making it easier for him to sink in deeper, pushing against your cervix. 
He then discarded his own tunic, “Take that off-” His voice rumbled, so you did. You took off the top half of your small clothes. His mouth returned to your breasts, swearing against your skin, you could feel him pulsing inside you. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to fuck. Not be fucked, but you needed to fuck.
You rolled your hips and it made him bite down on the plush skin of your breast which made you mewl. You stopped after moving just the once, 
“You want more?” You asked petting the hair on his head
“Fuck do you think?” You grabbed him by his jaw and chin, forcing him to look at you. 
“I won’t do it if you don’t ask.” your hand trailed from his chin to his throat, squeezing it a little before dragging your nails down his chest. He bit his lip smirking a little, not letting allowing himself to ask, his pride stopping him. “No? Alright then.” 
“Please..” He said through gritted teeth, 
“What was that?” You teased him,
He grabbed your throat and pulled you to his mouth, “please…” He said again this time biting your lip.
You began to grind yourself on his cock. At this point you were so wet you did it with ease, it was all pleasure. You moaned into his mouth as he kept his grip on your throat. 
“Fuck” He cursed into your neck as he licked and nipped at the skin, “At’s it-  fuck me-” He whispered against your bruising skin. 
“Nmm- Ah! Sandor-” You moaned into his ear as you clawed at his back. 
“Taking me so-” He grunted, gritted his teeth “So fucking good!” He struggled to say without grunting. 
Your legs began to feel weaker, and weaker, shaking. Fucking was a new skill you’d obtained and this part was just as new. You knew you couldn’t keep bouncing yourself on his cock alone. But rather than admit failure, you licked his ear, and moaned into it “Sandor, mmmphm, please, I need you to fuck me,” 
Without hesitation his hands went to your ass, bouncing you on his cock. “Ah!” You moaned again and again, your breasts bounced against his chest, making you only that much wetter. You pressed your cheek against his, constantly moaning directly in his ear. It drove him mad. You could feel yourself coming undone, “I’m cuming!” You whined against his face. He turned his head slightly to kiss your cheek sloppily, 
“Good, do it, cum on my cock, Birdy.” He groaned into your ear. 
You felt your legs spasm, and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, squeezing down his shoulders tight, digging your nails into his skin. You buried your face in his neck as you reached your peak, you moaned so loud, it could’ve been a scream. 
He took your face from his neck, holding it so you’d look him in the eyes, he brushed the hair from your face, “How’d that feel, Birdy?” Strangely gentle. You kissed his lips sloppily, 
“Keep going,” You panted into his mouth. To which he obeyed, pumping in and out of you with an increasingly erratic pace.
He looked down at your cunt sucking him back in, the thick ring of cream you created around his cock, the way your thighs were shaking, it was beginning to be too much for him.
His hand tangled in your hair, foreheads resting on one another, moaning into each others mouths, the way his hands made you feel safe. 
“Sandor,” You couldn’t stop the words from coming, “I love you.” You moaned breathlessly, you hoped he didn’t hear but he did, it sent him over the edge unexpectedly. 
He melted in you, you felt the heat spreading in your core.
As you laid against his chest, sweating, panting, exhausted, he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, “Love you..” 
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
The next morning you woke in his arms. You both got dressed, and no real words were spoken.
As you readied Lika, Sandor came up behind you. 
He put a piece of bread in your hands. As you looked at it, he wrapped one hand around your waist and leaned down to smell your hair.
You just smiled to yourself, looking at the piece of bread. 
He patted your behind quickly, “Hurry up, got a long ways to go.” 
Just as you were about to mount Lika, you and Sandor heard the sounds of at least twenty horses galloping closer and closer, and the sounds of men. 
Sandor wasted no time picking you up and putting you on Lika.
“Go, take off that way and don’t stop-” He growled at you 
“I can’t leave you-“ You tried to plea with him, 
“Did it sound like a fucking question? Get the fuck out of here!” He shouted at you,
“No!” You shouted back with the same ferocity as he did. 
“Stubborn bitch.” He said under his breathe, “Take this,” It was his dagger. “That ways North, keep going til I get you or you get to the Starks.” He said,
“Sandor-” You began but he hit Lika and yelled, making her take off with you on her. You couldn’t get her to stop, all you could do was look back and watch as a group of men surrounded the man you loved. 
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
It was miles til Lika was calmed enough to respond to your commands. By then it was no use. No point in going back, you knew if he needed help you weren’t able to give it. 
Once you found a small creek you decided to stop let Lika drink.
As she drank, you sat there, wondering what to do. 
Who were those men? Where they Lannister men? Raiders? Should you wait for him? He said he’d come, was he trying to give you hope? Unlikely, he wouldn’t be so cruel. As you were contemplating, 
“My Lady Arryn!” It startled you, no one had referred to you as a Lady in so long, much less your house name. 
You turned to see a older but handsome knight, in pretty silver armor. He had a blue cape. And was riding on a large Brown horse. 
“Who are you?” You held out your dagger at him,
“Ser Varys Cole of the Vale, my Lady. I didn’t recognize you in those clothes, but how could any knight forget such a vision once he’s seen it.” 
“Ser Cole? You served my father.”
“Indeed I did, My Lady.” You eyes still watched him like a… well a falcon, “So perhaps given the circumstances, you could lower your weapon?” He said with a smile,
So you did, trying to play the cards in your hand. “Ser Cole, I require your assistance, I need to find Robb Stark.” 
He looked down regretfully, “My Lady, I am afraid I cannot assist you with such a task.” 
“Why not?” You pressed, 
“I am under the order of Lord Baelish to bring you to him directly.” 
“The Vale is under the direct protection and order of the Arryns as it has been for generations, and you take your order from Baelish, not I?”  You asked with furrowed brows and beady eyes,
“I am afraid so my lady.” 
You looked at him with disgust, you walked back towards Lika. “Leave me then, I shall find my own way.” 
“I am afraid I cannot allow that, my Lady.” He said, you looked back at him with a harsh gaze.
“You can, leave me. Just go and I won’t speak a word of it.” 
“My Lady, your father would want me to see you to safety.” 
“You believe safety is with Little Finger?” You questioned him like he were a child. 
“It’s not out here.” He said looking around, you hoped Sandor would ride up and cut him down. “My Lady if you do not come willing I have orders to take you in ropes. I’d prefer you untied. So would your father.” It only angered you more that he mentioned your father so much. 
You wanted your dog.
“I will not go to Kings Landing.” You said sternly, gripping on to your dagger. 
“No my lady, I’ve been instructed to take you Lord Baelish.” He said as if it were an improvement. 
You held the dagger in your hand. your thumb brushing the handle of the blade. You contemplated it. You could kill him. maybe. steal his armor, his sword. Travel north until you got to Winterfell. But that’s all to say you could take the armored man in combat, and that no one else along your journey would try to kill you either. 
“How far?” You asked, hoping he’d say it’d be a two days journey to him. So you could run at night. 
“Lord Baelish is occupying an Inn near by. He had a feeling you’d be around this area.” He was lucky you got separated from Sandor in that case.
He got off his horse and walked towards you, “You can go on your horse, My Lady. Or you can go in ropes.” 
“Ropes.” You said, you pulled your dagger our and stabbed him in his leg, but he grabbed your wrist before you could remove it. 
He gritted his teeth, “That was not necessary, my Lady.”
He pinned you on your back and tied your hands together. Placed you on your horse, then tied your horse to his own. All the while limping. 
“Forgive me, My Lady.” 
He said as he rode on, you prayed to all the Gods, old and new, for Sandor to be around a tree. For him to come up the rode, for him to kill this man, for him to untie you, and be in his arms again. 
But no.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
As you arrived at the Inn, Ser Cole carried you off your horse. You wanted to kill him for even touching you. He placed you on the ground and guided you to Little Fingers chambers. 
“What is this? Untie the girl!” Petyr ordered,
“Yes, My Lord.” Ser Cole did as he asked. 
“Leave us,”
“Yes, My Lord.” 
Ser Cole left the room.
You rubbed your wrists and stared daggers at Baelish, you wanted to kill him right then. 
But the knight outside the door would have killed you too, you’d have to wait til you had your dog.
“A sight for weary eyes, my lady. Even in rags.” He said with a twisted grin. 
“Don’t take me back there, to Kings Landing.” You asked, but it sounded more like a command.
“If you wished to escape why wouldn’t you have asked me, you know I would have done anything-” 
“You had ample time to help me and chose not to.” You interrupted him,
“You and Lord Tyrion seemed contented.”
“And you seemed contented to watch.” 
“I know he has been positively bereft in your absence.” You felt your stomach drop. You’d wondered on him, for a moment, but you assumed he’d be fine.
“Lord Tyrion is a decent man,” You said with concern in your voice.
“Then why not marry him?”
“Because I am not a decent woman.” You blurted out with venom,  “I rather you kill me then go back there.” You threatened. 
“I’d never do such a thing,” He ran his finers against the skin of your forearm. Sandor would have cut his fingers off for it, you thought. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I asked your father for your hand, did you know this?”
You swallowed, “I did.” 
“Do you know why I did?” You felt sick, a pit in your stomach, that same pit of dread.
“You want the Vale-”
“I wanted you.” He said as he leaned in and kissed your lips. Your lips did not move and your eyes stayed open. Sandor would have cut his throat for that, you thought. 
As he pulled away you pressed your lips together and looked down. 
“You aren’t taking me to Kings Landing are you?” You whispered. 
“No, no my lady I am not.”
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NOTE: Hey all you cool cats and kittens, sorry if you had to wait a little for this one. It is a longer chapter so I hope it satisfies you or a lil.  Also I know, I know, the ending is a bit of a bummer, reading angst is never as fun as writing it but distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.  I also gave you sub Sandor so like…. You're actually so welcome. 
Beloved Tags: 
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waldau · 3 months
Note
hello!! big fan here! i think you’re super talented and cool 🫶🏼 can i perhaps request a friends to lovers thing for vernon? do you think he’d be the first one to break and confess or would it be you? if it’s the latter, how does he react? any thoughts on this would be fine really, even if you don’t want to make it into a full fledged story. just love talking about and thinking about vernon.
darling anon i think you broke my brain because i've never written so much in a single day (also thank you so much!!! <3). i love vernon and i've kind of been in a vernon spiral myself recently. i hope you like this :)
chroma — chwe hansol | 2,520 words | fluff
chroma (noun) — the purity of a colour, or its freedom from white or grey. reader and vernon are best friends who SCREAM become lovers. briefly ft dokyeom.
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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at first glance, you and vernon are opposites.
not exactly grumpy and sunshine opposites, but if you're both the same colour, you're a shade or two brighter than him. which means that you're similar with different energy levels, and honestly? you love your dynamic.
your friends notice that outside of the group, you're the one he's the closest to — so it only makes sense that he's also the one you're the closest to.
he's always near you whenever you're hanging out with your friends — whether you're sitting right next to each other or across the room, he meets your eyes from time to time, if only to check in on you, or to allude to an inside joke when someone speaks.
(you have way too many inside jokes; an unhealthy amount, even.)
he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely. or you crash at each other's places for the night if you're too tired.
you always look forward to whenever he gets random bursts of energy and proceeds to tell you about stuff he finds interesting. but you also use him as a pillow when he becomes extremely quiet, and honestly? it's pretty easy to co-exist with vernon regardless of the silence or the lack of it, because you always match his energy.
he sends you pictures of whatever he thinks you'll like, whether it's a meme or a sunset, but sometimes he sends you stuff he likes — like a cool monument he saw in new york or his cat or a picture of two snails on the side of the road with the caption "us?"
seriously, opening his texts is like a wild card (in a good way).
he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely.
you're slightly more affectionate than him, which is something he doesn't mind.
he's not the first to initiate hugs, but you can trust that he's always going to find your hand for a high five or a fist bump or a quick side hug.
if you're sitting together on the couch listening to music or watching something on the television, he lets you loop your arm through his like it's something you do every day (which it most definitely is).
vernon wasn't very physical in the beginning of your friendship, but now you're used to a light brush of his hand against yours, your shoulders bumping for a second or two, a poke to your cheek — just your things.
now the thing is this: you have a crush on vernon. a huge crush that doesn't seem to be going away any time soon.
"i knew it!" dokyeom says shrilly, and you wince. you love him, but you're not sure if he's capable of keeping your secret.
"was it that obvious?"
"of course it was! i've seen the way you look at him. like he's the funniest guy in the room, even if he's not. or like he's the hottest guy in the room. which he—"
"—is," you finish, and bite your tongue. dokyeom doesn't need to know exactly how in deep you are.
dokyeom shakes his head. "i can't believe he doesn't know."
"kyeom, if you tell him, i swear—"
"i won't! i kind of want to see how long it takes for him to realize."
"i don't think he will," you say, looking over to where vernon is sitting on the couch and arguing with seungkwan and seungcheol about the best movie from 2008.
"how do you know that?"
you shrug. "i've tried dropping subtle hints. he's just...oblivious."
dokyeom follows your gaze and sighs. "he really is. but if you ask me," he says, turning to raise an eyebrow. "this really could go somewhere."
every year, you spend valentine's day together.
it started as a joke the first time — vernon's date somehow cancelled on him at the last moment, and he showed up to your place with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.
you thought your heart was going to fall out of your body, but he sheepishly explained he didn't know where else to go, or who else to give them to.
it turned into a rant about how he didn't believe in or care about the holiday anymore.
but now it's your tradition to enjoy each other's company rolling your eyes and booing at cheesy movies.
(you wish they'd come to life, specifically with vernon, but he doesn't have to know.)
he isn't the best at comforting you with words. you learned that a long time ago and know it well even now. yet he's the first person you turn to when something's wrong.
you're wrapped in a blanket on vernon's sofa, a hot mug of cocoa in front of you next to a bowl of snacks, but your mind isn't on any of them. why, you think. why, why, why me. you feel terrible for the space you're occupying, even though you've curled up into a ball.
"hey," vernon says from above you, and the next thing you know, you're pulled into him. "i don't know what to say to make it better, and...i don't know what else i can do, but tell me, okay?"
you nod.
"i'm sorry."
you stop crying at that, trying to blink away your tears but failing. "why?"
"he was a dick, and you never deserved someone so shitty."
you try to inhale, but it's shaky. "i'm just...so tired," you say, resting your head on his shoulder. "i don't know why i keep attracting idiots like him. and i hate that you always have to see me like this."
"like this?"
"in pieces. crying. whatever."
"you're not in pieces," vernon says, running his hand over your back. "you're sad. it happens. and i don't mind being here, okay? i'm always here. sorry."
you snort. "you've apologized more to me than he's ever done at this point."
"now you know who to keep around longer," vernon smiles.
you wonder if vernon's aware of the things he does. he talks to you like there's no one else he'd rather be with at the moment. he bends down to meet your eyes when you're talking about something, and you're amazed he hasn't noticed you short-circuiting in the middle of your sentences more than a few times now. he finds the most random things to give you every now and then.
"huh?"
"pebble. reminded me of pou."
"pou? vernon, that was so long ago!"
"do you want me to skip this rock?"
"no, wait—"
fights with him aren't really fights, because one of you always caves in and has to make up.
"your neck's going to hurt," you hear vernon say softly, probably trying not to wake you up. but you weren't really asleep in the first place.
"why do you care?" you grumble, sitting up straight and wincing when your neck does, in fact, hurt.
"i don't hate you just because we had a fight," he says, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. "sore necks suck."
you chew on your cheek for a while, not wanting to say the words you know are inevitable. "fighting with you sucks, too."
he says nothing; just hugs you tighter.
you're surprised at how well you've adapted to vernon going out on dates.
it wasn't easy, you'll admit. at first it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest while also being crushed, but now it's okay (maybe because he hasn't been dating as much recently — you can't remember the last one he even went on).
you're nothing if not a supportive best friend, so you're okay with the few times his dates go well enough to tell you about.
you teasingly tell him not to give you too many details, but you wonder if he knows why you really ask that of him.
both of you act like a married couple, according to your friends. it made you blush at first, but there's no point reacting to it anymore because it's just not true. vernon doesn't like you the way you like him, and the way you're affectionate with each other is...hard to explain. just friends, you say, even though you wish you were more.
"you're dishgushting," dokyeom says, mouth stuffed full of pizza while he pours himself some coke.
you give him a look. "you or me?"
dokyeom nods, chewing aggressively before swallowing his bite. "you. and vernon. can't stop giving each other those eyes all the time. makes me sick."
"...eyes?"
"like you need a room or something. like there's no one else in here with you guys."
"we don't do that, kyeom."
he snorts inelegantly. "ask anyone. you're lucky jeonghan hasn't snitched on you yet."
and maybe, just maybe, vernon treats you somewhat differently than he treats his friends.
you always get the first bite of his food, always listen to new vinyls he gets on the weekends, sprawled out on the floor and letting the music seep into your skin, always get to steal his hoodies whenever you're cold — you can't think of any other friend of his who gets the same treatment.
but that's just best friend privilege.
at least that's what you tell yourself.
after vernon comes back from his latest tour, he becomes more touchy with you — resting a hand on your thigh, tracing the shell of your ear, linking pinkies with you.
maybe it's just his way of reconnecting with you after being away for so long.
but doesn't he realize what he's doing to your heart?
probably not, you think, when he wraps his arms around your waist one morning when you're in front of his vinyl collection, trying to pick something you think you'll like.
"sol?" you ask, patting his hands before resuming browsing through his shelf.
"hey."
"what's up?"
"tired."
"shouldn't you be in bed, then?"
"you weren't there."
you pause, the magdalene vinyl in your hand threatening to fall before you place it back. "i'm never there."
"wanna change that?"
"what?"
"what."
you think it's some silly pick-up line he's trying to test on you, so you gently push him back to his bedroom, threatening to leave his home if he doesn't sleep for a few more hours.
but it doesn't end there.
those pick-up lines pop up in the most unexpected places, with the most unexpected company. you shake your head and laugh them off, but you wonder why he's behaving like this.
there's one possible explanation for it, but you're not going to let yourself walk down that path. not unless he does it first.
vernon's quiet on the walk back to your car from the supermarket, half your groceries with you and the other half with him. he doesn't say anything when you point out his shoelace is untied, or his hair is sticking up a bit weirdly for his liking, or even the fact that there's a cat sitting right next to your car before it skitters away a few seconds later.
you're not worried. vernon does have those moments where he zones out so hard no one can get him back for a while, and this seems to be one of them.
"i love you," he finally says.
your hand fumbles with the grip of your bag. not cool, not when there's a couple of glass jars in there. there's going to be nothing cute to put the cookies in if you break them now.
"i love you too?" you offer, because it's not uncommon for you to say it to each other. it's just that vernon's never brought it up unprompted before.
"no. not how you think."
not how you think? how...
oh.
you can only stare at vernon, mind running a million miles an hour while he refuses to look at you, suddenly finding interest in that untied shoelace.
"love me love me?"
he nods, almost imperceptible if you weren't looking for it. it gives you a sudden boost of courage, of happiness, of everything good. you weren't wrong, after all. you put the rest of the groceries in the trunk and turn to face him.
you've seen this sight hundreds of times before — vernon with his messy hair, in this very hoodie with jam stains on the left sleeve, and those brown eyes that light up from the inside when the sun hits them just the right way and make him look like the most handsome man in the world — but it's like you've been seeing the world, even vernon, in monochrome till he said those words.
chroma.
"oi," you say, grabbing his face in your hands. "sol."
he just blinks.
"are you sure? absolutely sure?"
"yeah," he says, voice a bit rougher than usual, and you see yourself in his eyes for a moment. "i am. but i'm sor—"
you shut him up with a quick peck to his lips, uncaring of who might be seeing you right now. you know you're going to be embarrassed about it, squeal about it to dokyeom, bury your face in your pillow and question if any of it was real, but right now, it doesn't matter.
you've shocked vernon, for once. it feels good. he's staring at you with his mouth open, hands clutching your wrists like there's no tomorrow.
"you're not the only one," you explain, all bravado fizzling out when his full focus lands only on you.
"oh? yeah?" he asks, pulling you closer.
"mm."
he rubs his thumb across one of your wrists. "do you have eggs?"
"...what?" back to regularly scheduled programming, then. trust vernon not to make it weird.
"eggs. or ice cream. anything that needs the fridge. because i want to take you out on a date right now."
some things change: vernon becomes your boyfriend. you move in together a few months later. it's not the first time you've met his mother, but you're still nervous.
but the best thing of all is that he's yours now.
he even tells you how he realized he loved you back.
"i just...remembered you arguing with me about whether penne or fusilli was better, and my only thought was, i want this with you. for however long i could have it. i think i just loved you for so long, but...i didn't realize it was that love. i finally understood why kyeom-hyung kept telling me to get my shit together."
"sol—"
"no one knows me like you do and i don't want anyone else to. yeah."
"sol, babe, i was just asking if you want me to take out the trash."
"you...oh," he says, grinning in that shy way he does. "thought you asked me if i wanted you. but hey, if i'm trash for you, you're legally obligated to take me out, right?"
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i've never put pictures before but he's SO boyfriend material, look at him
taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi
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thewonandonly · 5 months
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RETURN TO ME
PLAYLIST : spotify
PAIRING : thief!kang yeosang x news reporter!fem!reader
GENRE : thriller? fluff, smut, angst
WC : 14,374 words :3
WARNINGS : strong language, agro-hwa, aggression, graphic description of hostage situations/kidnapping, mention of bank heists/artifact theft, mention of firearms, absolute chaos from ateez as a heist group, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penitration, vouyerism/exhabitionism, praise, pet names, cunnilingus, no happy ending, its giving mama im in love with a criminal tbh
AUTHOR'S NOTE : it's finally done! i've been writing this fic for OVER a year, ever since guerilla came out 😰 i hope you all enjoy and jsyk, this fic is heavily, heavily, inspired by "love letter from thief x".  
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Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option. You originally wanted to write news articles for your local paper, something close to home, but it turned out that your local paper hired another much more qualified person. So, you used your degree in journalism for field reporting. 
Your first story was about a cold case being reopened, and you would've loved to do your own research on the topic, however, the teleprompter read everything for you, telling you what to say, what to do and how to do what they tell you to do. You seriously did not have any freedom. You were about ready to go on sabbatical and open a gossip blog like Perez Hilton. Then, maybe you'll finally be able to get the freedom you'd like to report how you'd like. Or, maybe you'd even put the degree you got for investigative journalism, something you think would be extremely enjoyable to you and your wallet.
But, you didn't start hating your job at the beginning. No, because it was helpful to have a teleprompter in front of you, telling you what to say while the ring light blinded you. No, it wasn't because of that. It was because you were currently trapped in a hostage situation, the news broadcast now hijacked by the criminals in this entire scheme. 
It was a classic museum robbery, and you wouldn't say you were excited to cover it, but it was different from what stories you would normally cover. It had the potential danger in it all.
But the second your cameraman and producer cut the cameras to take a break, you were left alone to your own devices until you were going to be called in again by your co-workers in the studio. 
You pulled out your phone, scrolling through social media timelines, reading the other news sources that popped up about the situation. 
The microphone you held, that did little to nothing when you spoke into it on camera, was suddenly dropped as you were pulled from where you were standing, a hand over your mouth and another arm around your waist, lugging you away like a piece of cargo. 
How was no one noticing this, you questioned. The cameras were rolling for different news broadcasts, and yet no one gave any mind to the sound of your heels scraping against the gravel road, leaving white marks from the top piece on the bottom of your heel. 
You practically screamed from behind the hand against your mouth, but the sound of all the chaos from newscasters, sirens that echoed against the buildings silenced your screams.
All the self-defense you've learned for this moment, that you pleaded never happened, seemed to disappear from your head. And you were nearly incapacitated, anyhow. The last you saw of the outside was where your team sat, and the microphone discarded on the ground, your phone right next to it with a shattered screen.
The captor pulled you around the back of the building, another holding the door open for them.
They all wore masks, some you've seen at Halloween stores. Some of them you haven't seen available anywhere. You could only assume that this has been planned years before it happened. 
Shutting the door at the back of the building, the man released you before another took over and tied your arms behind your back, and sat you down to bind your legs.
"I'm sorry." The person tying you whispered, "For what it's worth."
"It isn't worth jack shit." You grumbled, moving around in the restraints, trying to get him to mess up even a little bit. 
The other cleared his throat, "Come in, Base, it's me." He mumbled through the mask. 
You immediately assumed that this was a much more complex plan, looking as he communicated to "Base".
"You read me?" He paused, "Newscaster is secured. Video's free to run."
"Y/N, uh... Come in." Your coworker spoke through the in-ear you had, and you nearly shook. There was no way you could respond unless you were left by yourself. "Y/N, come in." Their voice got a bit more stern, a bit more deeper.
There was a loud ringing playing over the in-ear and you jumped.
A voice full of static echoed, sounding distant but close at the same exact time, "This is an official notice. We, the group known by Kyomi, require the government release the Dream Texts to us, immediately." The video that played was a deep, almost god-like voice, similar to the voice configuration that Anonymous had used many, many times in the past, "The National Treasure Museum does not have rights to own the Dream Texts, nor does the government. They are to return them to their rightful owners. You have 24 hours."
Ringing played in your ear and you began to rub the in-ear across your shoulder trying to get it out from your ear, before it fell against the floor, the ringing echoing across the walls.
"Son of a..." The one tying you up glanced at the in-ear, looking at you before kicking it away, "What do you think you're doing?"
You struggled in the restrains, the rope digging into your skin.
"Wasp, we got a breach." He called to the other across from him, swinging the bolt rifle back to his hands, "She had an in-ear. They heard us."
The other turned to you, glaring at you through the mask, which made it 20 times more horrific, "Well, what are you waiting for? Break it." The one called Wasp spoke, squatting beside you, "Killer," He called over his own in-ear, "Shut it down." 
You glared back at him, not at all deferred from your fear coursing through your veins. 
There were so many other people that you weren't aware were in the next room, dealing with 4 others. Museum staff and guests visiting the 24/7 museum alike, all being threatened in front of the barrel of a gun. 
And as soon as "Wasp" called to shut it down, it was all over in a second. 
"Meet at the van. 10 minutes tops. Grab your shit, we're leaving." 
Your brain immediately connected the dots that maybe this "Wasp" was the leader of the others, and you didn't think even a little bit that you would be going along with them until the one who tied you up in the rope swooped you over his shoulder, your legs kicking at his back.
"What about the newscaster, Wasp?"
"Bring her along, Hornet. Base is gonna need all the info we can get." He nodded to the entryway, and opened the door to the reception desk. "Sharp, let's go. We're out of time."
"Sharp" immediately stood up from his crouching position with his gun still aimed at any who threatened through the glass windows, "You go ahead. Killer and Spiral are in the next room with the hostages."
"Copy." Hornet responded, carrying you through the door, "Killer, Spiral, get anything gathered about the Dream Texts and head out."
The two across the room gathered backpacks and threw them over their shoulders, their rifles resting in their hands.
The other hostages huddled together, shaking in fear. And in contrast, you rested on Hornet's shoulder, watching them from the corner of your eye. 
Wasp and Sharp entered through the door, a whistle escaping Wasp's lips, "Let's load up, Web is waiting for us." He lead the group to the van, "Hornet, drop the newscaster inside. You know the drill. Sharp, check for trackers. Spiral, swap out the plates." 
Hornet nodded his head to the door as Killer opened it, plopping you inside, "Alright, miss, no need to worry."
You trembled like a leaf. You never, ever thought this would happen to you. You, who took kickboxing as an extracurricular in high school and actually passed the class as top student. You, who checked every glass window you passed by in your hometown. You, who was so kind but also knew how to set your boundaries. This couldn't be happening to you. There was no way. The one second you were distracted by your cellphone and it wasn't while you were working; much rather it was while you were on break. 
The rope binding your arms behind your back was suddenly met with another rope through that one, and you had to convince yourself that this wasn't some messed up shibari sex cult. Inappropriate thoughts aside, Hornet tied a blindfold around your eyes, covering any light that might've flooded in from the dingy alleyway that the Kyomi group stood in, watching as Hornet finished restraining you and depriving you of your senses.
There was a faint beeping that echoed in and out your ear. "Can's clear, Wasp." Sharp called. 
"Good. Let's head out." He climbed into the van, hitting the door to the others, "Up and at 'em, boys."
"Jesus Christ, this mask is fucking annoying." A voice called and you heard the horrendous sound of latex rubbing against one another.
Another shouted, "Dude, you're all good to take the mask off!"
"I already did, asshole!"
You wiggled around, trying to grab even the slightest bit of attention, but they all seemed too busy talking to one another to notice you using your shoulder to move the bandana up just a little to see out of the bottom.
A voice sighed, "Come on, you two. Relax. We're not out of the woods just yet."
The other voice laughed, almost high pitched, "He's just so fucking ugly. I can't help it."
There was the brief sound of pushing and shoving, before a deep and stern, "Hey!" echoed through the car, "If Web gets into a crash and we get caught because of you two, it's over."
A tongue clicked, "Yeah, listen to Wasp. He can't afford to go back to jail, guys."
"You're one to talk, Yunho!"
"All of you just shut the fuck up." The voice boomed, and you almost flinched back into the car, feeling like you yourself was the one getting scolded, even though you were the most quiet out of the others, aside from Web.
You took this moment to actually lean your head back, and angle your eyes downward, catching the briefest glance among the group.
Three sat across from you, their masks still covering their face as they leaned against the empty van, guns resting at their side. The other two sat with their backs against the driver and passenger seats, next to the other group. Aside from the one directly in front of you, you were by yourself.
One of them cleared their throat, breaking the silence, "So, what's with the newscaster? Why'd we take her?"
"Information." That was the voice. The voice you could recognize as Wasp.
The other sighed, "Where are we gonna keep her?"
"Base can take care of her." It was short, simple, but definitely not sweet. He was the leader, he was the one that told the other's where to go.
The brief sounds of sirens were what pulled your attention from leaning your head back. And the sound only made you more agitated. I'm in here, you wanted to call. And how you pleaded you have superhuman strength to break out from your ties, break the door and crawl into the street.
The car ride was long. Extremely long and painful. You could feel your bottom going numb, and the rope digging into your arms. You were sure that you had a rope burn from it. The blindfold getting all the more irritating.  But, they didn't seem to notice that the bandana was even lifted a little bit, or how you would glance at them from underneath it. They were comfortable with each other, all joking around, almost as if they didn't hold an entire museum heist just a few hours ago. Their masks were off, the weapons and items they were able to grab from the museum in the middle of the van.
Wasp slumped forward, his arms folded across his stomach as he slept. 
And when the van stopped, you nearly shook. The rain pattered on the concrete.
"We're here." Web, the one driving called, putting the car in park.
The others sighed, standing up and stretching, climbing out the van, "Shit," one of them yawned. 
"Come on, Wasp. Let's get you inside." One of them shook him by his shoulders.
Wasp looked up and took a single glance outside and was already on his feet, "Alright, grab the things. Web has to get this back to the rental company. Base already changed the plates and VIN for it."
"Copy that." They all began to pick up an item; at least one gun as well, and opened the back door to the van. 
Wasp began to untie the rope through the one rubbing into your arms and lifted you over his shoulder. He kept a strong arm over your waist and walked around to the driver side. "Web, pass me the dash cam card." 
Web immediately reached toward the device and pulled out the card, "Got the replacement one?"
Wasp rummaged in his pocket, "Here. Base got still footage while we were setting up." Passing the card to Web, he nodded to him, "Get back safe."
"I always do." He shrugged before driving off.
Wasp sighed, looking up at the sky as the rain fell into his face, "God, I hate rain."
You wanted to make a stupid pun about wasps and their aggression, but your throat was so dry, you believed even speaking a little bit would cause your trachea to crack.
The mud gushed around his feet as he walked and opened the door to what you assumed was their base. 
"Welcome back, Seonghwa." A soft voice mumbled, "Who's this you have with you?"
"Newscaster." He dropped you down onto a couch and pulled the blindfold from your eyes.
It took a moment before your eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, and you felt 8 different pairs of eyes on you. The ones you saw in the museum had their masks either in their hand or on top of their heads. It was hard to believe that these people were so ready to show their faces to you.
And the two you haven't had the pleasure — you use that loosely — to meet yet, sat across from you, large computer monitors on top of two separate desks that looked just a little too large for the room, watching your every move.
Your breath began to quicken, your lungs beginning to constrict on every other breath. It didn't begin to hit you that you were obviously very much kidnapped, until you began to look around for any hint that maybe this was all big nightmare. 
Wasp, or now known as Seonghwa, bent at the waist and looked into your eyes, "Tell us what you know."
You've seen movies like this; the main character ends up kidnapped for knowing too much and when asked for the information they know, they always respond with the stupid words of "where am i?"
But honestly, you didn't really care where you were, you just wanted to get home. You wanted to lay in your bed and cuddle up in your covers. 
"Just about as much as everyone." You mumbled, shrinking under Seonghwa's stone cold glare, "I know that you want the Dream Texts, and I know that your groups name is Kyomi, and that there's 8 of you, only 6 of you going out on missions." You looked up at the man in front of you, shifting uncomfortably, "And I know that you don't kill."
The blonde male in the chair nodded, "She's good." He chuckled, pointing at you, "You actually know a lot more than others."
"I spend a lot of time reading about you guys." You mumbled. 
Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "All that information is on the internet?" He turned to the others, "Yeosang, do something about this."
The blonde male in the chair spun around and began to type quickly on the keyboard. 
You could only watch and listen, feeling uncomfortable as another member sat beside you and placed his arm around the top of the couch.
"Yeosang's our eyes." The other member whispered, "And the other one is Mingi, he does all background work for us."
Mingi waved sweetly, in contrast with the dim lighting of the room.
"Okay..." Yeosang mumbled, "Well, there are other news sources giving background to the group but it doesn't look like they know anything about us, personally." He rubbed his bottom lip, "There's not much to do aside from let the tabloids run their crazy little course and let them speculate."
Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "Son of a bitch," He pushed his hair back and sighed, "Yeosang, keep an eye on those articles and make sure that anything slightly close to our personal lives gets taken down."
"Aye, aye, sir." Yeosang nodded. 
You briefly made eye contact with Yeosang, before looking down at your lap, "Do you think I'll be able to go home soon?"
Seonghwa looked at you like you were crazy, "You think you'll be able to go home now? You've seen our faces, you know how we sound." 
The realization hit you all too late. There was no way you were going to be able to go home after everything you've been through. Like Seonghwa said, you've seen their faces. You've heard their voices. They had no collateral to the fact that you wouldn't say a word. And they definitely weren't going to risk some feisty newscaster giving away what they were doing anytime soon.
"You're right." You chuckled softly, "God, I'm such an idiot." You weren't generally speaking about your current situation, more rather this whole evening. You were distracted, you were caught unawares. And now, you were trapped in a situation that you didn't ask to be in. 
"Wooyoung, San, get her something more comfortable than those ropes." Yeosang called, and the member that sat next to you and the other across the room stood up and wandered off to the back of the shack... house, whatever it was.
Seonghwa looked around, "What are we gonna do with her?"
Yeosang shrugged, his demeanor almost changing in that instant, "I'm not the one who brought her here." 
You furrowed your brows, "You guys don't even know what to do with me and still brought me here?"
A brown haired member with a gentle smile and soft eyes chuckled, "Seonghwa didn't think it all the way through."
"Shut up, Yunho!" The latter scolded, "So, who's gonna give up their bed?"
"Definitely not me." A shorter male shook his head, "My back's still messed up from that heist in the city."
"That's always your excuse, Hongjoong." Yunho rolled his eyes, "I can't give up my bed because I made the perfect ass dent to fit me."
"That leaves Wooyoung, San, Jongho, Mingi,"
"Just let her sleep down here." Yeosang shrugged, "I'll be down here most of the time anyhow."
"Dude, you get zero sleep." Mingi chuckled, shutting off his computer, "Speaking of, I'm gonna head up now. Great job today, guys. G'night."
San and Wooyoung immediately came strolling down the stairs, a pair of silver cuffs in their hands, "Found something!"
"Give them here." Seonghwa called, holding his hand out, using his fingers to motion them towards him. And one of them placed the cuffs in his hand, "Keep her down."
The two hold your shoulders against the couch cushions as Seonghwa used a pocket knife he pulled from his pocket to cut through the rope, forcing your arms to the side and locked the cuff around your left wrist, and the other cuff around the arm of the couch. 
Sure, it felt better that you were out of that rope, but with the pinching cuff around your wrist, it made it almost worse.
You sighed, rolling your wrist around, as you finally had circulation returned to your wrist. 
Seonghwa sighed, "There." He grabbed the two spare keys and tossed them to the other at the end of the desk, "Keep an eye on her."
You could feel your hand go numb as the blood began to rush back to your fingers, "This is not ideal, but it's better than how it was." You mumbled to yourself, using your thumb to crack your stiff fingers.
Yeosang sighed, spinning around in the chair to continue using his computer, "So..." He whispered. "I know they said you're a news caster, but what station do you work for?" He asked softly, clicking on different links on his screen.
You cleared your throat, "I, uh, I work for STVU. I do field... field reporting." You swallowed roughly, feeling your throating drying up more as you spoke, “They decided it was easier-“
Yeosang chuckled, “All I needed to know was the station.” He pulled up the news website, playing back the live feed. “These your coworkers?” Yeosang motioned to the screen.
Nodding your head, you looked as they stood in silence and you could already imagine the teleprompter moving before their eyes, the producer nodding them to continue. You could imagine the shock from them calling on you, and finding your producer picking up your now shattered cell phone on the ground as the hostages continue to file out of the museum. 
Yeosang tapped a pen on the desk, “Looks like the missed out on the money shot ‘cause you weren’t there.” He chuckled, exiting the full screen, “They really depend on people of your career.”
You coughed lightly, “So, what’s the point of keeping me here? If they depend on me so much, what’s the point?” Yeosang turned around in his seat, using his legs to roll over to you on the couch, “Because it gives us an upperhand.” He smiled, almost sinisterly, grabbing your free hand, “It gives us a huge hand. Return the Dream Texts to the most loyal group, Kyomi, or we kill off the newscaster.” He chuckled, looking up at you sitting on the couch, fear brushing your brows and forehead in the form of sweat, “But, you already know we don’t kill people.” He laughed, pushing across the floor back to his desk, “Or, do we?” He began to type on his computer, “I mean, if we did, it’s not like anyone would find out. We have this disposable land, buried under these old junker cars. If we did kill anyone, we’d bury them under those junkers and call it a day. And, the dead can’t speak.”
The way he spoke about it made you wonder, have they really never killed anyone? Have they really, honestly, never did what he spoke about?
Laying down on the couch to calm your anxiety never really helped; In your everyday life and in this situation now. Normally, you’d come home from work and eat, drink, and then lay down on the couch until you passed out from exhaustion, but here — here was so much different. You didn’t feel overworked, you didn’t feel tired even in the slightest, you weren’t hungry, you weren’t thirsty. You were just horrified. And uncomfortable. Your hand would normally meet your hair halfway through the night but with your hand chained up to couch arm, you couldn’t get comfortable. And the only way to get comfortable was to have your bone pressing against the bottom of the arm of the couch.
You just decided that staying awake for the rest of the night would be fine. After all, you did have a later broadcast time rather than waking up at the crack of dawn. So, staying up wasn’t immediately out of the question; in fact, it would’ve been the perfect option.
It was damn near the crack of dawn, and Mingi was right, Yeosang didn’t get any type of sleep. Not even a second of resting his eyes. He just sat in front of his computer screen, typing on his keyboard with a click from his mouse here and there. You wondered how he could do that, especially when you, personally, couldn’t sit at a desk for longer than 10 minutes before getting up and finding anything else in the world to do. You honestly didn’t know if he even got up and used the restroom, if he got something to snack on or to drink. He seemed completely entranced by his computer screen.
You assumed if you loved what you did that doing that type of work wasn’t as grueling.
With creaky steps, down came a lethargic and gloomy looking member of Kyomi, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction. He rubbed his chest from under his shirt, his sweats hanging around his waist, “Sang,” He called to the one sitting at the desk.
Yeosang only responded with an uninterested sound, typing something else into his computer, and a click from his mouse echoing around the two.
“Did you even get her anything to eat?” The other man asked, turning his eyes from you to the other in the chair.
“Jesus Christ, San, she’s not a fucking dog.” Yeosang scrolling down the page, “If she needed something to eat, she’d let me know. We’re like best friends, now, right, Newscaster?”
San looked back to you, rolling his eyes, “Are you hungry?” The fear overpowered San’s kindness, and you felt scared to even speak your mind. You were starving. You didn’t anything since before you went live on screen, and you had your entire menu for the week planned out. But, if he was offering to get you something to eat, you wouldn’t turn down the offer even if it killed you. So, ignoring every thought bubbling in your head like soda pop, you nodded.
San looked back to the one slumped over in his chair, scribbling down something on a notepad, “See? She was hungry.”
“Not my problem.” Yeosang shrugged, “Even if she was, it’s not like I had the key to unlock her.”
“Oh, shit.” San wandered back up the stairs, poking his head down momentarily, “Hold on, Newscaster, I’ll be right back!”
You sighed to yourself, sitting up in the couch, skillfully moving your arm around the arm of the chair to have it rest there comfortably. Sitting on the couch, confined to one spot brought back memories of your high school years, awkwardly sitting on your friends couch as they went to retrieve something from their bedroom, leaving you there to do nothing but play on the cheap cellphone your mother purchased for you. It felt exactly like that moment, with your “friend” across from you as they were comfortable in their room while you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb.
San quickly hurried down the stairs, a key around his finger as he walked over to you, to unlock the cuff around your wrist.
This could’ve been your moment to pack up and run. This could’ve been your out. And you would’ve done it, if not for San locking the other open cuff around his wrist, smiling as he looked at you, “Now, you can get those legs moving.”
He locked the cuff around your wrist just as quickly as he unlocked it, making it known that he’s used them for something of this exact situation before. San helped you up off the couch and steadied your wobbly legs as you stood.
“Sang, I’m going to make breakfast, if you want any.”
Yeosang yawned as you walked past, the computer screen lighting up his features and the blonde hair covered up by a black beanie, “It’s fine. It’s about time I head to sleep anyhow.”
San scoffed, “I get that you’re our eyes through out the night, but you seriously need to fix that schedule of yours. You spend the whole night keeping tabs on tabloids and news broadcasts, but they never post during the middle of the night.” He scolded, with you standing there like a clueless bystander, which you were, but you had a bit of a better idea on what exactly Yeosang was keeping an eye out for.
“Heard it all before. You say that until STVU posts all of this Newscaster’s notes on us and suddenly we’re compromised.” Yeosang stood up, stretching his arms above his head, “With that being said, I’m heading up now.” He shut off his computer and wandered over to the stairs leading up to the mysterious upper floor, “G’night, San. See you later, Newscaster.”
You lifted your free hand in a silent attempt to bid him a goodnight, or good morning in this case, and looked at San.
“He’s a trip.” San sighed, leading your cuffed hand behind his into the rickety old kitchen, “What are you hungry for?” “Um,” You shrugged, “Anything, really. I could eat anything.”
San lead you over to the foldable kitchen table that was enough to fit two, and unlocked your cuff, almost forcing your hand against the brace of the table as he locked you in, “Sorry, safety measures. You understand, right?” He smiled at you as he kneeled down to unlock his cuff, shaking his hand, “I’ve only had mine on for a couple minutes. How did you wear that for so long?”
You shrugged, looking around the kitchen for any type of impossible escape. It was in this moment you realized just how tired, panicked, and anxious you were. The late night shift was hitting you a bit too hard now, the drowsiness infecting your eyes like a sickness. You were worried for the next person to walk down the stairs, what they'd say or do. And you were anxious for your day's beginning behind these walls. Should you be worried about what they'd do to you, or should you just stick out the days and hope with enough time, you'd be let back into the world and live your days like they were your last? 
Everything in the kitchen of this shack they inhabited was rundown. There was a vent with no cover, the floorboards squeaked with every step San took across the room, and if you moved your own feet enough, you could feel the splinters covering the floor. The appliances and cupboards looked like ones they found in the junkyard just outside their front door, although you had to admit, the repair on the appliances were like no other, giving a clean finish with a bit of damage here and there. Whereas, you could not say the same for the cupboards which looked like they were living on their last leg of life; cracked wood, rusted hinges, and some even missing half, or a whole door. 
San pulled open the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, then opened the cupboard and pulled out a sack of flour, and a pan, “Do you like pancakes?” He asked, sickly sweet that made your tummy hurt.
You turned your eyes to him, nodding.
San smiled, grabbing the pancake mix from the cupboard as well, making his way to the stove to turn it on, “So,” He started, “I know you’re a newscaster, but other than that, I know nothing about you.” He looked back to you, “Tell me about yourself.”
You shrugged, “Um, well, My name’s Y/N, I’m in my 20’s.” You shrugged again, realizing now that sharing your life story to an unknown stranger who also happened to kidnap you and used you as an advantage hostage for the government to give them what they want. “What is it exactly you guys want?” You asked hesitantly, scared to have touched a nerve.
“The Dream Texts.”
‘Which are?” You made a face, and turned your palms upwards, shrugging.
“Which are-“
“Which are none of your business.” Another voice echoed, and you turned around to find a groggy Seonghwa, glaring at you from across the table, “That information is classified for Kyomi, only.” He leaned against the table, “If your view on us changes, maybe you’ll find out.”
“Hwa,” San started, flipping a pancake onto the pan, “Come on.”
“What?” Hwa immediately began to push away from the table, and sized up the other male across from him, although they were practically the same height.
San gripped the pan’s handle, “Think about it. If she’s gonna be here for as long as we’re hoping, she should get to know us. Us, personally, and us as an organization.”
Seonghwa stepped closer, glaring at him, “And why would you do that? You’re willing to lay everything on the line for a snake to share it with everyone she’s knows, if she ever does get out.” Seonghwa had San practically up against the wall of their kitchen in the shack, and San’s knuckles went white as his grip tightened on the handle.
“You really don’t want to me to hurt you.”
“Like you’d ever hurt me.” Seonghwa chuckled, his tongue poking his cheek, “If you even move so much as an inch-“
The chair to the table across from you was pulled out, and you pulled your eyes from the fight, to find Yeosang sitting there, yawning, “They’re fighting again.” He sighed, leaning on his hand.
“Do…” You paused, “Do they always fight like this?”
Yeosang moved his hand side to side, “Sometimes. It’s always something stupid.” He complained.
You looked at Yeosang just for a moment, the side of his face all too familiar for only being in this place for a few hours, his birthmark decorating the side of his face. His hair was mussed in all different directions, and there were purple bags under his eyes, possibly from his insane sleep schedule. 
You looked back to the two across the room, Seonghwa holding San by his shirt against the wall as the latter tried his best to swing the hot pan across Seonghwa's head, the perfectly cooked pancake laying on the floor, now broken into pieces.
"Oh, my pancake." You whispered under your breath, sighing, placing your hand against your belly as it grumbled.
Yeosang sighed, standing up from the table, "Alright, you two." He wandered between the two, opening the fridge, "What happened?" He pulled out a wrapped bowl of what looked like macaroni and cheese, using a spoon discarded in the strainer and then ate the food cold, not bothering to step out of the duo's way. 
The two immediately began to go on a ramble, San pointing the end of the frying pan at Seonghwa's face, and Seonghwa keeping San pinned against the wall. Yeosang looked between the two, absorbing all the information as if he was in a comedy show, shoveling another spoonful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth. 
And as the two men threatening to bite each other's heads off settled down, Yeosang turned to set the bowl beside him, "Now, doesn't this all seem silly?" He asked sarcastically, a smile crossing his lips.
San and Seonghwa continued to glare at each other, releasing each other from their grasp, just as the other members joined to watch the drama unfold in the doorway of the kitchen. Hongjoong sat at the chair across from you, and the others peeking in. 
Yeosang patted both their backs, "Okay, good. Let's continue planning our next move." He nodded, picking up the bowl and wandered out to the living room, the sound of a gentle clatter from his spoon hitting the bowl as he set it down to get into his chair comfortably. "Mingi, pull up the National Bank."
Mingi yawned, "It's too early for this." He rubbed his eyes, but nevertheless, sat down at his computer and typed in the National Bank of South Korea, "There."
From being attached to the collapsable table, and with the room being empty, you listened as closely as you could to what exactly they were planning. You heard a voice here and there asking questions before Yeosang took over, "The National Bank has a piece of the Dream Texts, and I know where it's hiding." He chuckled darkly. 
You already saw the perfect opportunity to get your ass away from here; in front of you, sat a shoddy door, with a lace curtain that must've been pinned up in an attempt to make it look not so bad. It was only a mile from you, at least it felt like it, when it was only a couple steps ahead. And you would've taken it, if it wasn't for the giant, grey collapsable table you were currently handcuffed to. You would've ran out the door, screaming your head off about the horrendous situation you found yourself trapped in to anyone who would listen. You had an idea to even carry the table on your back almost like you were Sisyphean rolling the boulder up the hill, for all eternity. 
San's voice cut through the air, "Y/N?" He called, peeking into the kitchen, his voice recognizable enough to cut your thousand-yard-stare in half, "You okay?" He asked gently, looking at your eye's connecting to the door.
You turned to look at him, your eyes delayed like your mouse as work with the horrendous input delay, "I'm okay." You nodded to him, even willing him to accept it with a gentle smile. 
"Well, alright." San nodded back, "If you need anything, we'll be in here." He smiled, dragging his feet across the floor and sitting on the couch as Yeosang continued.
In a perfect world, they would've recruited you into their ranks, having you join in on the meeting about what came next, allowing you to go to and from as you please, make your own food. And overall, have you free of the pinching cuffs and let you exist as yourself.
"Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yunho, you two will enter from the top window, using the special forces gear we got from Jongho's truck run." Yeosang held the pen cap in his lips, as he pulled out the printed blueprint from his printer next to his desk, "That way we can get an upper hand for the Dream Texts. You three will check the top floor while the rest of you, hold the bottom floor."
"It'll just be me and Joong." San pointed his finger at them both, "We can't possibly hold an entire floor by ourselves. I mean, it took Wooyoung, Yunho, Joong and I to just barely keep the floor of the museum clear."
Yeosang smiled a bit more sinisterly, "You're all forgetting one valuable hand in all of this." He cackles.
"I hate when he does this." 
How, was all you could ask yourself. How is it possible to be in this situation again? The cramped van, the uncomfortable ropes and the barrel of the pistol pressed against your temple. And it happened to be the only nice member holding it there. You were blindfolded, and you wouldn't be surprised if you were dead already. This all had to be some type of nightmare.
Despite being the very valuable part of this plan to get into the bank, you were the one that was once again at the end of the barrel. When you learned that you'd once again be placed in that terrifying position of playing a hostage, Yeosang spoke with almost a chuckle, almost like he liked seeing someone under duress. As well as the others. 
All this for some stupid writing? All this for Dream Texts. It was hard to believe you'd be forced to stay with them. 
Jongho, who you learned was Web, after connecting the dots, was driving around the city in a car that was a little too small for the group. You were aware of all the codenames at this point. Wasp was Seonghwa, Hornet was San, Killer was Hongjoong, Sharp, Wooyoung. Spiral, Yunho. And Base was Yeosang and Mingi. 
You knew their plan, and their means of getting to the oh-so desired Dream Texts, which you still had no idea what it was about or why it was so important to them. The only thing you could think of was National Treasure, the Nicholas Cage movie, which was, in it's entirety, about a treasure map on the back of an official government document. Maybe that's why they want it so bad, you thought, for money and fame.
Jongho stopped, dropping off the five in front of the National Bank, one you attended since you began your adult life. It had a bittersweet nostalgia, the building. It was where your family was charged foreclosure. It was where you cashed your first check after a successful month of your career. It was where you paid the down payment for your family's new house, after living with family for years. 
Some would say you had a humble upbringing; learning the importance of money and paying dues where it's needed. You would say you had a difficult life. Getting a job as soon as you could, paying for your own high school expenses, and funding your own college education and tuition. You were constantly stressed out, and even now, with a steady job, you were considered a workaholic, but who could blame you? Cause and effect is what you normally pushed it off with. 
Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung split off from San, who gripped your arm tightly, and Hongjoong. They all had their weapons around their shoulders and masks that covered their faces, that you weren't even aware they had put on. The masks were different from what you had first seen, this time, they all donned balaclavas, unlike the clown masks you've seen them in previously. 
You were still blindfolded, a sound of a shattering glass echoing through the sky, San tugging you along into the building.
You were aware that you, in this situation, were a hostage again. You weren't sure if this is where you died, or if they'd take you with them again. So, you tried to settle the pit that lingered in your stomach as San shoved you onto the floor, a ray of bullets echoing through the air and a loud yell of "get down!" interrupting the fire. 
You felt that anxiety and impending doom creep into your chest again, your brain shifting gears back into fight or flight. After all, you were nothing but an accessory for them to use. Your life, to them, had no meaning. They could preach that they don't kill all they would like, but they would actually have to take responsibility for their actions of causing psychological damage to others.
Hongjoong cleared his throat, raising his voice, "We are Kyomi! We require the Dream Texts. Who here is the bank manager?"
A woman shakily raised her hand, and looked around anxiously. 
Hongjoong motioned for her to approach, and when she was close enough, Hongjoong gripped her arm and looked her in the face, "Open the safe, and don't try anything funny." He whispered. 
You used the linoleum floor to push the blindfold from your face, catching sight of Seonghwa and Yunho standing on the second floor, their guns positioned at the back of the victims. It almost looked like they were ready to shoot. 
Hongjoong lead the bank manager around to the safe at the back of the building, where she opened it with shaky hands. Then a shot was rung out.
The desk someone sat at was completely destroyed, the sight of Seonghwa glaring through his balaclava. 
"Every one of you to the center floor now!" Seonghwa shouted, and people began to shuffle towards yourself and San. From the position Seonghwa was in, it was obvious he could see the entire floor. 
Hongjoong returned with the bank manager, a plastic wrap tucked into the vest he wore. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And no one got injured." He chuckled, returning the bank manager to the group that sat on the ground floor.
Hongjoong spoke clearly, "Secured. Web, whenever you're ready." His hands rested on the gun, and looked into the faces of the victims; some were teary eyed, some were angry and some were avoiding their eyes. 
You looked into the eyes of one, sympathizing as their eyes watered in terror.
This. This was your out. 
You opened your mouth as San began speaking, and didn't mutter a word; just mouthed it. Using your eyes to motion them to look at Hongjoong, you mouthed the instructions. And they only furrowed their brows, shaking their head, scared of even the possibility of getting injured. 
If anyone was going to be able to end this, it had to be someone who could fight back. And there was more than enough to take the fight between the four invaders. If they had the possibility of saving everyone, even yourself, they should take it. They would be reveled as heroes; people who saved the hostages of the National Bank. But, no one would take the risk. They all had families, friends. People they loved. Creatures they loved. They wouldn't risk it. 
If you were to be the one to sacrifice, they would do it. Because the blood staining their hands wasn't as bad as leaving the ones they loved. 
You assumed Jongho must've responded to Hongjoong's call. San was quick to pick you up off the floor by your restrained arms and drag you out of the building. You looked around for any type of exit to get away from them. Standing around was just as bad as doing what they were. But, once again, like every chance before, they had nearly every corner blocked off. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yunho were walking from the back of the building around the corner and Hongjoong opened the door for us all, before you got thrown in the back just like before. 
You anxiously watched the hostage all relax, and you begged, pleaded for a way to feel that comfort, of being able to relax. Not constantly feeling like you were under watch by these monsters. Jongho drove off as everyone sat in their seats, taking the initiative to drive away from the building, and as you drove off, you saw the police round the corner, and everyone filed out, some falling to their knees from fear. 
You wished to feel their fear. And the rush of being alive after a five minute standoff with five villains. You were oddly surprised that you could feel fear this intensely through your bones, despite being with them for a day.
"Now, you're one of us." Wooyoung chuckled.
You looked at him, your brows furrowed, "What?"
Seonghwa turned from the front seat, looking at you, "You've committed as much a crime as we had."
"Again, what?" Your teeth grit, "I was kidnapped. I was held hostage." You pointed out the obvious, looking between the men in the car, "I was an unfortunate victim in this whole situation!"
San chuckled softly, "Aiding a criminal in a crime is just as bad as doing the crime." You could already hear the condescending high pitched voice he spoke with before the words even left his lips. "You're just as guilty as we are."
"I. Was. Kidnapped." You emphasized, "By you! Those people you all just traumatized, are not the only victims." 
Seonghwa waved his hand, turning back to the front, "Someone blindfold her again. And gag her. She's getting annoying."
"You're no better." Jongho mumbled, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, "We still have a few miles to go."
Jongho easily turned into another lane, leaning on his hand as he drove.
Seonghwa looked back at the others, "Well? Are any of you gonna do it?" 
San sighed, "Yeosang said not too!"
You completely forgot that they had in-ears wrapped around the shell of their ears, all communicating between one another. You felt out of the loop; what exactly did Yeosang say not to do? What were they communicating between each other?
Seonghwa sighed deeply, obviously annoyed as he pulled out a single of his own in-ear, and motioned to you.
Seonghwa wrapped it around your ear for you, slowly pushing it into your ear.
"Go, for Base." Seonghwa called.
Yeosang cleared his throat, "Y/N? Are you there?"
You nodded, before realizing that he couldn't hear you, which you choked out a "yes" in a small, shy voice.
"If you look out onto the road, you'll see the route back to the dump." He spoke simply, "Because of this, we have no other reason than to recruit you." His voice was filled by the keys of his keyboard, "You'll either have to pledge loyalty, or we have no other option then to keep you hostage. And, possibly kill you."
"You don't kill people." You shot back, looking at the road in front of you.
Yeosang chuckled. The clicking of the keyboard stopped, a gentle creak from his chair echoing, "We unfortunately have to finish off the ones we try to recruit that don't agree. Just a little Kyomi group secret."
The list of charges they could catch just add up; armed robbery, kidnapping, assault and battery, and murder. You had the benefit of doubt that they didn't kill, and Yeosang obviously had a heavy heart telling you what exactly they did. 
"So," Yeosang chuckled, "What'll it be? Be part of Kyomi, or meet the sweet embrace of your own inevitable destiny?"
You sighed; It was a lose-lose situation. Either commit crimes and the possibility of life in prison, or die? If you had another option, you'd take that in a heartbeat. Being a housekeeper, being an informant for the group, or just going home, would have sufficed. 
But, obviously, they cared too much about their pride to let you off the hook so easily. They cared too much about those Dream Texts that you still have no clue what they were about. They cared too much about their own safety to risk sending you off in the world.
You clenched your fist, "How do you know that I'm not in connection with the police? What if I let you all take me hostage?"
"Because you aren't that smart." Yeosang whispered, his voice tickling the inside of your ear, "L/N Y/N, graduated from SKU with a degree in journalism, which is surprising, since you only had a 2.8 GPA throughout your school career." His voice twinged with amusement. "You spend majority of your money at the convenience store and on bills. You live in an apartment complex, although I won't share the address, I know where it's located. Your social security number is—"
"Okay, okay." You stopped him, "Okay, fine. I get it." Your lips trembled as you spoke, "I'll... I'll join Kyomi."
Yeosang chuckled, "I knew you'd choose the right choice." You could hear the smile in his voice. "But, for the time being, you'll have to keep being restrained, for the safety of my comrades."
You wanted to curse at him, and let all of your aggression out on him. If they really thought they were gonna get away with this, they were sorely mistaken. 
You would find a way to report them, and you would finally be free of the wack jobs that thought it would be a good idea to kidnap you.
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It's been two months since Yeosang thought it was a good idea to have you join Kyomi. And it absolutely was not. Your plan to get out of there as quick as you could wasn't working as well as you hoped, but, everyday, you spent your hours looking for a way to leave, to report what exactly happened to you.
Your face would briefly show up on the news every now and again, with your family begging for you to find your way home, as if the police force haven't already ruled you out as presumed dead. 
The last everyone saw of you was at the National Bank, where you were pulled away by the rope tied behind your back. You still feel the rope around your wrists every now and again, waking up from nightmares, hoping it was all a joke that you were put in this position. 
Nevertheless, you pretended to be on their side. Seonghwa has lightened up to you, and will even indulge about San and Wooyoung's ridiculous behavior. Mingi was back in the game, having you taking over his spot as resident hacker of the group. Those coding classes would've done you well, if you had any idea this is what you'd be doing. Yet, it seems like every time you touched a keyboard, your mind blanks on why exactly you agreed to do this.
Yeosang has everything blocked on your computer, which you believed he put on as soon as Mingi said he'd want to join the guys on their heists. 
You've been given a new identity, essentially. They didn't call you "newscaster", they called you "Centipede," which you wholeheartedly believed was Yeosang's idea, after he shared his disgust to centipedes after. You and the arthropods. 
You wore an in-ear, just like Yeosang did, and talked with the guys while they were out, and it still hits the ear wrong when they call you the name. Like they were taunting you.
Aside from the new, definitely underpaying job and the new name, you could not even begin to describe the bedding situation. You shared a bed with 7 others; all guys. You were, rightfully so, tense every time you walked in after a shower to grab a fresh pair of clothes. The beds were lumpy and you slept on the bottom bunk, shared with Seonghwa at the top, who slept like a rock, but was surprisingly easy to wake up when it was needed. A slight tap on the shoulder and he was awake. You didn't understand that when you were first nabbed by them, when he was sleeping in the van. Not to mention, he slept max four hours. Wooyoung and Yunho had a bad snoring problem, so you could rarely get any sleep through the two months, but now, unfortunately, you were growing accustomed to it. It was like white noise. And you didn't even want to start with the splinters you received on the first night; bad mistake not thinking to borrow someone's slippers.
Hongjoong, Mingi and San were light sleepers. You'd shift in your bed across the room, and the three of them were already staring at you, like you were in the wrong. San slept with stuffed animals, which was entirely uncharacteristic of the Hornet you met the first time you were brought there. 
Everyone of them were uncharacteristically what you thought; Seonghwa was actually a sweetheart when he wasn't under pressure; he enjoyed building legos, and had the ones he built sitting in the shared window the two of you had. San was an animal lover, and you had to turn away multiple strays he brought back to the shack. Mingi was quiet. He had a bunch of interests that you really couldn't keep track of. Yunho was like a giant puppy. A single bit of praise and his invisible tail was wagging like he had happy tail. Hongjoong was much more serious than the others, despite his first introduction. Wooyoung was more or less the same, but when he wanted to be, he was much too serious than what you were used to. You were used to his boisterous laugh that echoed through the house, yet he gets pulled out into the field and he changes demeanor completely. Jongho wasn't fond of praise and gratitude, in fact, he spent most of his time waiting for the guys to finish up the heists by driving around, listening to girl groups. 
The only one you could never really understand was Yeosang. He seemed much like the same as when you first met and saw him. Bags under his eyes from staring at a screen all night and all day, disheveled hair and kept to himself. You both never slept at the same time. He was the eye in the sky, and the security. He slept around the time all of you woke up, yet, he was up and at 'em not even an hour or two after he slept. Now that you think about it, there was only eight beds available in the barracks, as you like to call them, and you were the eighth. It made you think about where exactly Yeosang would sleep, and you began to wonder if he took your place on the couch to rest or if he stole someone else's bed to sleep in.
This morning started like any other; restless, tired and exhausted, and you were aware that all the words you were repeating to yourself had the same meaning, but that only emphasized your point that you were so exhausted, you couldn't think of anything else. 
Yunho and Wooyoung were snoring so much that night, you thought they might've caught a cold from the way they sounded. Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so goofy with you, the lack of oxygen to his brain during sleep.
Hongjoong woke up and wandered over to you, nudging you slightly, and you turned to look at him. "Holy shit," he began, "I think you're beginning to spend a bit too much time with Yeosang." His finger went under his eye and began to swipe there back and forth. 
You sighed, sitting up, "It's not that. They never shut up." You whispered to him, pointing at the two chronic sleep apnea patients, "I'm so tired." The exhaustion was beginning to catch up to you, and you rubbed your eyes. 
Hongjoong smiled softly, "Well, today's a rest day while Jongho tries to find a new car for us to use the plates you found yesterday. Take the day to yourself."
You sighed, nodding lightly. 
Normally, taking a rest day back in your normal life, you would have went out shopping and went to visit friends and family. Now, all you had to yourself was a walk around the junkyard, occasionally ending it earlier than you would have liked to due to a pest running rampant through the disgusting, rusted cars and whatever trash was left in there. 
And that was definitely not going to cut it. 
"I'll make some breakfast. Eat, then come back up to rest." Hongjoong basically planned your entire day for you. All you wanted to do was sleep the day away, which is something you've done a lot on rest days. 
Hongjoong wandered around the corner to get downstairs and you laid back on the lumpy bed, your head meeting the pillow in a short second. The snoring seemed like it was getting louder by the second, and you were too exhausted to even move to cover your ears.
You shifted positions to face towards the empty bunk Hongjoong left, wrapping the weighted blanket around your body, and burrowing your nose into the soft fabric, sighing as you felt your tension melt away. 
If you were home in your apartment, you wouldn't have had this issue. You wouldn't have to try almost anything to fall asleep. Hell, you wouldn't have even woken up. Tale has it, you were a heavy sleeper before you were brought here. 
Shutting your eyes and hoping for the embrace of sleep to take you over, you sighed just as the steps creaked. Opening your eyes was already too much of a labor, so you just covered yourself more with the blanket.
A sigh exited from someone's lips, the floorboards creaking as they walked over towards the bottom bunk bed and laid back. Wooyoung was directly above them, as they laid in Hongjoong's empty bunk.
"Shut up." A kick was met to Wooyoung's stomach from underneath, right underneath the bed slats. "Get a mask." They scolded.
Opening your eyes, the exhaustion was already setting again, squinting as you looked across the short distance.
Yeosang laid on the bed, the shadow under his eyes already looking worse for wear. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and his sweatpants were below his hips. He covered his face with his forearm, sighing as his body relaxed. 
Okay, so Yeosang was attractive. That much was obvious. And, what's the worse that could happen? He breaks your heart because he's too focused on Kyomi? Or, he doesn't see you the same way because he works too close to you?
You blinked as you watched his body relax, his free hand resting on his belly, his fingers brushing the waistband of the grey sweatpants.
The last two months were long. Tiring, even. But, just like you would do in high school, you'd take extra care into your appearance, even if it meant you got a second longer of a look from someone.
"Stop staring at me." 
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the harsh call, feeling your ears bleed red. 
Yeosang moved the arm over his eyes and faced you, his hair falling in front of his eyes.
"Sorry." You mumbled, "I was spacing out."
Yeosang chuckled, "You're an idiot."
The jab was meant to be cruel, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, and the smile that crossed his lips, and oh, my god, did you hear that laugh? The way he spoke, even if it was meant to be cruel was so soft, and you know it's just how he is; his care and warmth are there, despite the harsh words that bite at you.
You rolled your eyes, curling your legs under the blanket, "Are you going to sleep now?"
Yeosang shook his head, "I never really sleep much when I get up here." He mumbled, studying the slats as if there was something there, "Wooyoung and Yunho snore too loud."
You laughed softly, "Tell me about it."
Yeosang smiled softly, closing his eyes briefly, "I wonder if it's even worth sleeping in here."
Shaking your head, you smiled gently, "It's not." It was simple, shortcut. "I haven't gotten a good night's rest since I've been given this bunk."
Yeosang's face relaxed, turning his head back to you, "Can I ask you a question?" His voice was like shoes dragging through gravel, and his eyes stared at you intently. You couldn't help but nod. "Why did you agree to stay? And why haven't you even tried to leave yet?"
"Oh, my god, you mean I could've went home?" You asked sarcastically, your eyes playfully widened. But, you saw the look in his eyes and decided that maybe it was time you opened up to him. It was your turn to sigh, turning to look up at the slats that held Seonghwa's bed, "My life was going nowhere in the job I was in." You spoke simply, "I didn't even want to work for a big news station like that. I would've rather have worked back in my hometown, but, someone got the job I wanted."
Yeosang looked at your profile, his eyes scanning the way your nose was, the curve of your lips and the long eyelashes you had. He's worked beside you for two months, and he never noticed just how enticing you were. Your eyes turned to his, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.
"Besides," you started, "My family never really checked up on me." Shrugging, you got all the more comfortable, "Everything we see on the news feels a bit fake anyhow."
Yeosang couldn't really recall his family life before Kyomi and the Dream Texts.
"We've given you so many opportunities." Yeosang whispers. 
You chuckled, "Did you really though?" You asked softly, "The last two months, I'm scared to even try to sleep." 
Yeosang shook his head, "You didn't have to be scared." He mumbled, "We've always given you an option."
His eyes were shining, the sun hitting his brow bone to give you a better look at the honey eyes he had. 
"Well, I'm here now." You responded, his eyes completely captivating his beauty.
Yeosang and you held the eye contact, not saying another word to one another. Wooyoung and Yunho's snoring filled the air between you two.
Tension, heat and pressure surrounded you both, before Yeosang scooted himself off the bed and wandered over to you, climbing on top of you over the blanket and leaned his face close to yours.
"Do you feel it too?" He whispered, his lips only inches apart from yours.
A breath was caught in your throat, and you swallowed roughly. You assumed he was talking about the sudden tension that covered you both, and you agreed. You did feel it. It loomed over your head, every so often. Now, during missions, after missions.
"You do feel it." Yeosang smirked, leaning forward to encapsulating your lips with his own. 
The dream you've had every night about him was coming true. Yeosang had a sweet tooth, the citric acid from Sour Punch Straws he frequently ate echoed against your lips. His long hair practically covered his eyes as the strands brushed your cheeks. His hands were hot against yours as he intertwined your fingers with his own. His weight was distributed evenly on top of you, basically pinning you down to the bed.
Yeosang pulled his lips away from yours, his face still centimeters from yours, "I've been wanting to do that since you took over Mingi's desk."
You blushed, feeling the blood rush through your neck up to your ears.
Yeosang's hand gently cupped your cheek, rubbing your skin with his calloused thumb, "Tell me if you want me to stop."
His lips met your neck, his tongue gently running along the skin, his hand hot against your cheek. His lips left wet kisses against you, and when a gasp escaped on a certain spot, they turned up into a smile, gently biting the skin with his teeth. 
His lips, his lips, his lips, it was all you could think about as they moved from your neck, down your chest, stopping just at your belly button, placing gentle kisses on the skin and rubs your thighs with his hands.
You were so nervous, you honestly couldn't remember the last time you got laid, let alone by someone you work with. If you remembered correctly, it was a year or so-
Yeosang had pulled your shorts off, along with your panties, smiling softly, "Look at you, kitten. Aren't you so pretty?"
God, you thought, When he calls me that, it makes me want to scream. 
His smirk only grew wider, "Do you want to continue?"
You nodded your head vigorously, already sure that you would have given yourself whiplash, "Please."
Yeosang settled in between your legs on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and held your thighs in place with his hands.
His hands were strong, and veiny. They were warm around your thighs, compared to the cold chill in the air. His callused hands were rough against your soft skin, his tongue a nice heat against your mound.
Your hand shot to grab at his hair as he sucked on your clit, a soft moan escaping your lips.
"Shh, baby, you don't wanna wake up the others, right?"
It was impossibly hard to think of keeping your moans back, since Yeosang was making you feel so good.
Yeosang continued his pace, his tongue dipping down in between your folds, working his fingers against your clit.
The thought of waking up the others from their slumber excited you, and almost made you infinitely more comfortable with the idea.
Yeosang kept his eyes trained on you as your chest rises and falls, watching how each movement of his tongue affected you. And when you began to groan, your legs shaking, Yeosang knew just how well of a job he was doing.
"Sang..." You whimpered, thighs threatening to squeeze against his head. 
Yeosang chuckled, using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back to teasingly bite at it, lifting his head as you let out a loud yelp. He glanced around the room, hearing an interruption of Yunho's snore before he began once again, "Come on, kitty cat, can't you try to keep quiet?" He sat up, positioning himself between your legs, his buldge pressing against your heat, the sweats he wore staining with the wetness from your cunt.
"Sang..." Your voice was strained, looking up at him with begging eyes, "Fuck..."
"Can't get the words out?" Yeosang smiled, leaning forward as he laid on his arms on either side of your head, "Come here, baby." He whispered, pressing a deep kiss against your lips, one of his hands running through your hair just as the other tugged his sweats down, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, "Is this okay?" He gasped softly.
You nodded, "Yes, yes... More than okay."
Yeosang smiled softly, capturing your lips once more as he slowly pressed into you, the heat from the stretch as you grew accustomed to the size of his cock was painful, yet pleasurable. "Fuck, you're so tight, baby." He bottomed out, holding you close to him as he slowly moved his hips against your own. He chuckled as a loud moan escaped your lips, using the hand that tangled in your hair to cover your mouth, "Shh, shh, angel." He cooed softly as his thrusts grew faster, looking between the two of you where you were both connected.
Yeosang's cock twitched against your walls, listening to your groans and smiling as he felt you clench around him.
"Y/N!" a voice called up the stairs, and Yeosang and you both shared a look. "Hey, Y/N, are you still awake?" 
Yeosang adjusted your position so you both laid on your side, pulling the blanket over his head, looking up at you, "Pretend to be asleep." He whispered, his cock continuing to press into you. "And keep quiet."
You furrowed your brows, looking down at him before Hongjoong stepped up the stairs. Yeosang's hips continued to roll against yours, and you felt a soft whine about to escape your lips. 
"Hey, Y/N." Hongjoong approached the bed and despite your best efforts, you screwed your eyes shut, and buried your face in the pillow. Yeosang moved slow, pressing soft and silent kisses against your sternum. "Y/N, food's ready."
Your ears were bright red, the soft sounds of your wet cunt echoed against the walls. Or were you just toning out Yunho and Wooyoung's snoring? 
Hongjoong called your name one last time before he found his way back down the stairs. As if on cue, Yeosang peeked his head out from under the blanket, chuckling softly, "Good girl." He whispered, grasping your hips tightly in his hands, "You're just a good girl." Yeosang thrusted deep into you, "Gonna cum for me?" His thumb rubbed at your clit, his voice gruff and strained as he laughed at your convulsing.
"Mmhmm." You whined out, gasping as his thumb continued his assault.
"Cum for me, kitty." He whispered, moaning out as he felt his own climax quickly approaching, "Fuck, you feel so good."
As your cum dripped from your cunt, Yeosang was quick enough to pull out from your entrance, his cum coating your lower half, his gasps turning into panting as his cock twitched in his hand.
Yeosang chuckled breathlessly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, "Fuck, baby." He smiled, holding your ankles gently to move your legs from around his hips, "I knew you'd feel good."
The action you both committed finally began to register in your brain. With 4 of the other members of the Kyomi group in the room. You quickly reached your hands up to hide your face, chuckling softly, "I can't believe we just did that." You whispered out.
"I can't believe we did that with the guys in here." He smiled, pecking your cheek before he pulled up his sweats and stood from the bed, rising his arms to hold the side of the top bunk, looking down at you, "Wait here." Yeosang turned to the restroom, grabbing a wash cloth and sitting beside you on the bed, "It's gonna be cold." He warned, chuckling softly as he pressed the cloth against your mound.
You blushed softly as his gentle hands cleaned your skin of his climax, "Did you mean what you said?"
Yeosang looked up to look at you, "You know me better than that." He mumbled, "You know I'm not one to say anything if I don't mean it."
"So, you've really been thinking about this since I took over Mingi's desk?"
Yeosang smiled, "Actually, I've been thinking about it since you got your callsign." He folded up the cloth, setting it down on the window sill, "I didn't make it up for no reason."
You pulled your bottoms up your legs, laying on your side to look at him, his arm around your hip as he leaned on his hand, smiling at you, "I thought you hated centipedes?"
"Sure. But, it's just a callsign." He shrugged, "It doesn't mean anything." He used his other hand to cup your cheek.
"Okay, sure." You rolled your eyes, smiling at him, "You must've had a lot of fun when taunting me."
"Sure did. Why? You liked it?" He chuckled, pinching your cheek between his fingers.
"Maybe I did."
"Bet you did."
"Yeosang!" A voice shouted up the stairs, and Yeosang was quick to move from where he sat, rushing down the stairs.
You could feel your heart racing in your throat at the urgent call and was about to follow until Seonghwa quickly dropped down from his bunk, "Stay here, Centi." He patted your shoulder as he moved around the room, waking up the remaining members, who also were quick to stand up.
Wooyoung and Yunho, who were formally snoring, furrowed their brows as they stood up. San shot up at the sound of urgency in Seonghwa's voice. 
"What's happening?" Your voice trembled, watching as the three men walked by, "Seonghwa, what's happening?"
Seonghwa almost made it past, before he sighed, "You wouldn't understand." He grumbled, "Just stay put." He continued down the stairs, skipping each step as he moved, "What's happening?"
The voices all blurred together, your feet slowly moving down the steps before you sat down just out of view.
"The cops are on their way." That was Hongjoong, "Mingi just confirmed with the scanner." You could hear the shaking of his voice.
"Jongho isn't back yet." Seonghwa glanced amongst them all, his arms crossed, "Meaning our means of leaving are pretty low."
"We could hide in the junkyard, couldn't we?" San whispered. 
Seonghwa rubbed his temples, "That's fucking stupid, San."
"We have 30 minutes to either pack up and get out of here, or 30 minutes to find a way to stand our ground." Yeosang grumbled, the echo of the mouse clicking between them all. 
Wooyoung stomped towards the steps, "Well what are we waiting for?"
Seonghwa sighed, "We'll never get anywhere in 30 minutes." He crossed his arms, "Packing up everything we need is too much of a hassle. Centi will never get far enough."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Yeosang interjected.
"She's not exactly the most active person, Sang. Why do you think I stuck her with you?" Seonghwa bit back, "We'll have to find a way to get out of this."
"Oh, dude, I can't go to prison again." Yunho groaned, tangling his hands in his hair.
"Yeosang, Mingi, wipe everything from the PC's. Hongjoong, San, you two find somewhere to get rid of our weapons. Yunho, try to get an update on Jongho." Seonghwa's brows were pinched together, crossing his arms over his chest once more, "We're gonna have to find a way to make us seem like normal people."
Everyone was quick to do their assigned tasks while you sat there on the stairs, your eyes glancing at them all from the railing of the stairs. Seonghwa turned back to the stairs, looking at you with sharp eyes.
You've remembered that look. The same look he gave you when he first saw you at the museum, and you felt just as small now as you did back then.
Seonghwa gripped your hair, looking at you, "Let me figure out you had something to do with this, and I won't stop hunting you down for the rest of your life."
"Ow, Seonghwa..." You grumbled, trying to pull your hair from his hand, and sighed as soon as he let go, "I promise, I didn't have anything to do with this."
Seonghwa continued to walk up the stairs, his eyes stuck on you until he turned the corner into the room. 
You glanced back over the railing, your eyes meeting Yeosang's. As if under a spell, you slowly began to move down the stairs to stand beside Yeosang, whose hand squeezed yours.
"I hope everything's okay." You whispered.
Yeosang smiled softly, "We'll be fine." His eyes focused on the screen, watching the recovery drive get moved to the USB plugged into the computer, "Not the first time this has happened."
Nodding your head, you moved to sit on the arm of his desk chair, his arm wrapping around his waist as he finished clicking his mouse.
Everyone was off doing what Seonghwa assigned them to do. San and Hongjoong returned from the junkyard covered in dirt, sweat rolling down their foreheads. Mingi and Yeosang both ran recovery drives through the computer before they both ripped apart the components and tossed them on their desks.
Seonghwa was stowed away upstairs and Yunho paced the front porch of the shack, the rain pattering atop the roof, a loud twang! echoing the room as the droplets rhythmically dripped into a steel bucket placed against the wall by the stairs.
"17 minutes out." Seonghwa called, tossing a backpack onto the couch; your couch that you were handcuffed to months ago.
You've grown to love the rundown shack; the leaky roof, the splintered floor, the creaky stairs. You thought you'd grow to hate the building, but... it grew on you like a rash. 
Yeosang glanced up at you as you sat on the arm of his chair, "You should go change." He whispered to you softly.
You nodded your head, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go change." You stood up and made your way up the stairs as if someone else was controlling you. Your shoulders slumped, your head hanging down between them. You pulled on the pants one leg at a time, your shirt over your head, a coat, thick socks and shoes. 
"We can't bring her with us." You heard the voice, immediately recognizing it was Seonghwa.
Yeosang piped up, "And why not?"
"At the moment, she's one of the largest missing person's case in the country. If someone sees her with us," Seonghwa trailed off.
"We can't just leave her." Mingi mumbled, cursing to himself as a clatter dropped to the floor, "We're safer if we take her with us."
Seonghwa voice strained, "She won't say anything." He scoffed, "She's too afraid."
"She's coming with us." Your heart twanged as Yeosang's voice dropped, "End of discussion."
"Since when have you been one to make decisions?" The sound of Seonghwa's heavy boots bounced off the walls.
"Since you've grown more incompetent." Yeosang responded back, "She's coming with us."
You adjusted the jacket over your shoulders, staring at the backboard of the old closet, trying to make it seem like you weren't evasdropping at a time like this just as Yeosang reached over your shoulder to grab his own pair of clothes.
"You shouldn't be listening to that stuff." Yeosang leaned against the wall as he pulled on his clothing, moving some of his hair from his eyes, "You know Seonghwa's just being dramatic." 
"I can't help it." You shrug, turning to look at him as he laced up the boots, "Yeosang."
"Hm?"
"What's supposed to happen?"
Yeosang paused from tying his shoe before he started once more, "Same thing that happens everytime we get caught up like this; run until we find somewhere to set base again." He mumbled, "Y/N, you know, if you do this..." He stood up, grabbing your hand in his own, squeezing it, "If you do this, you'll be just like us." 
You furrow your brows, "Have I not always been like you guys?"
"Of course you have, but... this'll seal the deal. Before, you were just collateral, a hostage. But now, if you follow us down this path, you'll be a fugitive. You won't be able to go back."
You shrugged, "Well, I don't wanna go back."
"No," Yeosang chuckled bitterly, "No, you don't understand." He shook his head, "Think about it. Use the last..." He glanced at his bare wrist as if there was a watch there, but you knew he was counting down the seconds in his head, "15, 14 minutes of this time to really think."
He walked off, despite one of his boots not being tied through, not giving you a second glance. 
You stood in the middle of the room, as everyone moved in and out, grabbing their items, their clothes, their prized possessions. Hongjoong was kind enough to pack up Jongho's belongings for him.
You spent that time really thinking like Yeosang said to. You thought about your life before these two months; it was bitter, it was bland and it was unexciting. But, here... with the boys, with Yeosang, it was everything you wished for. You didn't have to dress a certain way to work. You didn't have to pretend to like the people you worked with. You didn't have to pretend like everything was okay. 
You moved your feet down the steps, seeing the 7 men who you have grown so accustomed to standing in a circle, glancing you up and down as you tightened the straps of the bag over your shoulders. 
"What are you guys waiting for?" You mumbled, looking at them all as you approached the door. 
And despite your excitement to pull open the door to the downpour, seeing eight to nine police cars skidding along the road with their lights flashing and sirens chirping was enough to have you withdraw your hand from the handle.
"Shit, they're here!" San shouted, looking out the windows to the front of the shack, "If we go out there..."
"Stop making a bad situation worse." Seonghwa bit, "They aren't gonna shoot on sight. They have too damn much to ask."
"What are we gonna do, Hwa?" Yunho asked.
Seonghwa pushed his way to the front, gently moving you aside as he slowly opened the door, his hands raised, "Don't shoot." He grumbled, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stepped down the shack's rickety steps.
The rain water pattered on his head, moving close enough to look down at the police.
"My name is Park Seonghwa." He shouted, "I'm 25 years old. I was born in Jinju. I have an older brother. My blood type is..." He was listing out random facts about himself, until an officer approached him and was quick to cuff him.
"They've got Wasp." Hongjoong dropped his items and went out into the rain, steam practically escaping his ears as he tried to intervene, only to be met with the butt of a gun and fall into the mud.
"Shit." 
"Show yourselves." You recognized the man on the intercom. God, how could you forget? You've spoken to him so many times. The police chief of the National Police Force.
San was the first to lead the way out the door with his hands up, Mingi, then Yunho, then you, then Yeosang. Police officers began to surround the area, Seonghwa now being moved into the back of a police car, Hongjoong's unconscious body being placed in the back of the same one. One by one, they got handcuffed.
"Yeosang!" You shouted, ready to run to him before the police chief placed a heavy hand on your shoulder.
"Y/N..." Yeosang barely whispered over the rain, before he was shoved into the back of a police car, sat beside Yunho was looked like he was about ready to start kicking at the officers.
You gave one final panicked look at the Kyomi members in the back of the police cars; a calm and collected Seonghwa, an unconscious Hongjoong, a panicked San and Mingi, an angry Yunho. Yet, you couldn't read Yeosang. You never could. 
You couldn't tell what he was thinking.
The police questioned you for hours about the last two months you spent with Kyomi, and you spent a lot of time with a hired therapist they said that brought in to help hostage victims. Your family were ecstatic to see you, nearly moved to tears at the sight of you wearing the black clothes, your shoes covered in mud and your hair stringy from the rain.
Despite answering their questions to the best of your ability without incriminating anybody, the entire time all you could think about was "Where's Yeosang? Is he in the station too?"
You were granted release from the station not long after being taken in, the blanket wrapped over your shoulders and holding the cup of coffee they offered you as they kicked you out like a newborn calf. You sniffled softly from the chill of the rain lingering in the air.
You glanced upwards, and your bottom lip trembled as you saw Jongho sitting there in a car, climbing inside beside him.
Neither of you shared words; Jongho wasn't one for that, but he did gently pat you on the head as soon as he turned the car on and began to drive off, the sound of 2NE1 filling the quiet space.
You never knew what happened to the boys. Jongho and you both tried to figure out what exactly happened but... there was never much about it on the news or anywhere else. Yeosang, the boys and that rundown old shack in the middle of an old junkyard were an exciting new beginning to a life you only got a taste of. But now, you'd have to live with the bitter, bland and boring life that you had previously. 
Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option...
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grimesgirll · 3 months
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currently thinking about what it would be like to be with rick during the apocalypse, and my first thought is say goodbye to your freedom! okay, not actually. it's not that rick wants to keep you locked up or anything, but he really can't handle losing you, especially after everything he went through with lori. it doesn't matter if you went to west point or were an assassin before the dead started walking, rick wouldn't want you in harm's way. he wouldn't want to lose you in a way that he thinks is preventable. of course, this gets in the way of you trying to pull your weight with the group and help out. before and after he makes his feelings known to you, you two have a lot of arguments on the subject.
sometimes you get away with shutting rick up with a kiss. at first, he doesn't enjoy being interrupted while trying to prove an important point to you, but being as pent up as he is during these trying times, it's hard to say no to you sometimes. then of course, there are the moments where he shuts you up with by locking lips with you and taking your mind off of whatever you two were going at it about. his favorite is distracting you right before the group is supposed to leave for a run. one time he caught you about to join daryl, maggie, and glenn on an excursion from the prison to a nearby pediatrician's office to poke around for anything of value. the sheriff asked for just one kiss before you left so while you obliged, he took the opportunity to wave the others away to hit the road. it wasn't long before he had you up against the wall, panting between kisses and taking his time for his hands to travel all over you. you broke out of your steamy embrace to realize that your party had left. it was all too evident that this had been on purpose from rick's smirk and him pulling you back towards the prison to his cell.
when you're safe and not dealing with the horrors of the road or the dead, rick wants you safe at home with him. he wants you waiting for him when he gets home just in time to say goodnight to judith before you put her down for bed. then you two are saying good night to carl and heading upstairs where he shows you exactly why you should never want to leave this bed.
with your hips pinned down by his arms, brawny from his newfound day job as a farmer, there was no reason you wanted to get up. not with the way he was working you from the inside out. his tongue coaxed sounds out of you that you didn't know existed. sounds that rick insisted you let him hear loud and clear whenever you had the privacy. otherwise, you're burying your head in the pillow or waiting for him to finish you off and then meet you with his lips and his stubble brushing against your chin. feeling him rock solid and ready to go beneath you, finally agreeing that yes, this a lot more fun than raiding a doctor's office on some stupid run would be.
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