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princessbrunette · 2 months

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HOLD ME, KISS ME ♡

♪ the little dippers — forever ♪

WANTED: JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE - SUSPECTED MURDER - $1000 REWARD - DANGEROUS! IF SPOTTED DO NOT APPROACH!

pairing: outlaw!johnb + sheltered!reader ⋆₊⊹♡

synopsis: your wishes come true when a beautiful boy is found sleeping peacefully in your barn. much to his surprise, you don’t care about who he is or what he has or hasn’t done — you just want to ensure he stays forever.

cw: mentions of prayer, religion and god (for plot purpose) reader has two parents, western!au, innocence kink, slight manipulation, mentions of crime, breeding kink, smut ♡

“Please deliver me a man, save me from this loneliness. Make him kind, and strong, and handsome. I vow to make him the happiest man alive.”

Your forehead rests against your clasped hands where you kneel beside your bed, speaking out loud as there was no one else to speak to. Your parents had gone on a trip for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the farmhouse all by your lonesome.

Isolated didn’t feel like the correct term. You were grateful, happy to live off the fat of your father’s land in the middle of nowhere, but sometimes you wished you had someone to share it with. Someone your own age who was there to see you. You had become the perfect host, thrilled when your parents would bring home guests once in a blue moon. You’d tie ribbons in your hair and pick the perfect dress and set the table like your mother taught you. You often imagined setting the table for a family of your own.

Your own farm house. The thought sent you off to sleep each night, walking through the home in your mind as if it were really real, feeling the creaking of the painted wooden porch beneath your feet as you enter, the distant cooing of your baby being comforted by your husband in the next room. White shabby-chic panels across the walls with oak furniture and knitted throw pillows and lots and lots of warm light. The kitchen table would have the perfect lace floral embroidered table cloth draped across it which you’d serve the heartiest dinners on each night. The babies room would be painted mint green, no— maybe pastel yellow, with handmade toys and a music box that played your song and oh, the master bedroom… where you and your husband rest your head would be flooded with natural light. A haven. All yours.

The details to the decoration often changed, new inspiration plucked from the papers that father would bring home and new favourite colours integrating themselves into your home plans but one thing remained the same each time. Your husband. He never had a face, but it wasn’t important. He was warm, strong without having to prove just how macho he was, kind— you could feel his love from the next room on. That was all you really wanted. You could forget the house, forget the land, live in a barn for all you care — you just wanted to experience a love like the ones in the fairytale books stacked high in your room.

It had been a week already of this routine you’d grown used to. You wake up, feed yourself and then the chickens, come inside, clean yourself and then the house, paint, crotchet or read — however the mood takes you, eat lunch, tend to the crops, brush the horses, maybe milk a cow, come inside and cook dinner, bathe, think about your dream husband and grind your wet messy cunt into a pillow, feel guilty, beg for forgiveness and then sleep. It was an easy life, and you couldn’t complain— but you couldn’t help feel the world had more to offer.

Your mother often told you that gifts from above come when you least expect it, you just had to keep your eyes open. You always wondered how one might find these gifts with no idea where to look.

Your gift arrived bright and early the next morning.

Well, not technically as early as it should have been, infact you probably nearly missed it. The roosters calls at 6AM each morning, but on that very day you had decided to sleep in. A few hours wouldn’t kill them, you think as you pull a plush white pillow to lay over your ear— it’s not like the chickens would starve.

At 11:45AM, you stumble bare foot onto the grass outside, setting out on your walk to the barn a little way up the land. Your pert nipples harden, awakened by the cool morning breeze as the thin white fabric of your nightdress blows in the wind. With the sunlight shining directly on it, it was sure to be totally and utterly see through— and you suppose that was one upside to living in the middle of nowhere, yards upon yards from civilisation. No one would see you. Sigh.

You feed the chickens, totally blind before it even occurs to you that anything might be astray. Infact, you don’t even seem to notice that the barn door was left ajar, as opposed to how you usually leave it bolted by a wooden slab to prevent the animals from wandering off or being massacred by foxes. You suppose that’s the price you pay for sleeping in, you live in dreamworld for the next few hours.

The Earth seems to stop turning for a moment when you see him.

You’re more curious than anything, wide eyed, holding your breath as to be totally silent despite having been humming and speaking to the chickens only a moment prior. You tiptoe through the hay, shards of straw sprouting between your painted toes and pin-needling your sole as you draw closer to the man. A fallen angel, your first thought.

He’s half curled up onto his side in the hay behind the stable for your white pony. He has thick-ish arms crossed over his chest, his hat laying over his face seeming to be serving as a purpose to block out the light. You figure as you hadn’t woken up him before, a closer inspection couldn’t hurt. Unhurriedly, you sink down into a squat beside him, knees pointed upwards and feet taking your balance. A real man, in your barn? It couldn’t be. You chew on your bottom lip, goggle-eyed and inquisitive as you cautiously lift the hat away from his face.

He doesn’t wake and you’re for some reason thankful. It gives you time to observe him, the breath all but knocked from your body as you take in just how beautiful he is. He was perfect, and just like what you were hoping for when you wished to be delivered a husband.

Dark eyelashes kissing at the rim of his closed eyes, pale lips and freckles, sunkissed across his nose. Your eyes trail over and across him, now with his face in mind taking in account what he looks like as a whole. You were still in disbelief, a real man sleeping in your barn. But then again, as your eyes skim lower and you notice the blood seeping through his shirt over his stomach — you wonder if he was sleeping. Surely he wasn’t dead? Only God could be so cruel to deliver you the perfect man without a pulse.

So, you press two cold fingers to his neck, searching for the rhythmic beats signifying life. As soon as you do so, the man jolts awake — wide brown eyes meeting yours.

“Jesus.”

This is where the stare off commences— you were sat in a squat giving him a straight shot up your night dress with dome like eyes and parted lips, observing him like he was some sort of alien life form that had happened upon your barn infront of your very eyes. Your chest rises and falls, and his gender fails to betray him as his eyes fall there for a moment, subconsciously noticing the way your bare tits strain against the thin fabric with each exhale. Somewhere in the back of his mind he can’t help but acknowledge that you’re a pretty thing, totally his type. In any other scenario, he might’ve seen you at a local tavern and introduced himself, getting you tipsy and loose, making you giggle beneath his soft gaze and coarse hands in some dimly lit booth before realising he’s far too respectful to take advantage of you like that.

With his eyes open, the picture is complete — and he truly is as beautiful as you thought. He had a puppy like quality to his eyes, they were big and brown but from the sunlight streaming in you could see specks of orange which intrigues you. You wish to look closer, but you feel it’s not the time. His adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow and he tears his eyes away from yours to look around, still disorientated from sleep. He touches his wound with gentle fingers and he winces, going to push himself up on his elbows.

You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, warm deep voice raspy from rest as he dives into a sequence of begging.

“Does anyone know I’m in here?”

“No, I—”

“Okay, that’s— okay, please — hey, please don’t tell anyone. I won’t lie to you, I’m in a little bit of trouble with the law, nothing super bad I swear just — I needed somewhere safe to sleep so I ended up here. Didn’t take anything and uh— and I’ll be out of your hair now that I’m up.” He rambles, continually glancing at the barn doors, expecting Sheriff Shoupe to bust them down and take him in at any moments notice. You say nothing for a moment and he pushes himself to his feet, eyes squeezing shut at the soreness of his injury. “Think it’s easiest if I just—”

He cuts himself off this time, because you slip your hand into his— stopping him from going anywhere. His eyebrows jump up and he freezes on the spot, staring down at your doe eyes with a wide and confused gaze of his own.

“…Hi?”

“You just got here? Why’d you have to go?” You sound sad, and he actually can’t believe what he’s hearing. Not only did he break into your barn, on private land — but he’d totally overstayed his non-existent welcome, and now you didn’t want him to leave?

“P—pardon me? Ma’am?” He tries to be respectful, when what he really wants to ask is along the lines of ‘What the fuck?’.

You scramble to stand up and he helps you using the hand that you’re grasping. “Well, you won’t get far with a wound like that. It could get infected. Maybe you could come inside, let me dress it. You can refuel… maybe stay a few days?” The last part sounds wrong coming from your mouth. He’s a stranger for goodness sake— everything your parents had taught you about safety went against this and plus you were practically begging. You might have been embarrassed, if there wasn’t such a nagging feeling in your stomach telling you that this was meant to be.

He scoffs out a chuckle, because he thinks there’s no way you’re serious— but when he sees your wide eyes bouncing between his own, searching for something he couldn’t quite put a finger on— he realises you’re being completely genuine and his expression melts into a more worried gaze, shuffling a little closer on his feet.

“Look, I really appreciate your hospitality, but you have done more than enough, really. Just the fact you didn’t have the sheriff busting in to drag me away is something I will be very grateful for. Believe me. But I can’t drag you into this. Anyway, don’t you have family? That you live with?”

You sigh, looking down at your intertwined hands that you had yet to release, staring as if you were trying to memorise the feeling of a man’s touch incase you really couldn’t convince him to stay.

“Well yes, but they’re on a trip you see — and they’re going to be away for another week and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m awfully lonely, and I know you’re a stranger and all but I could really use the extra set of hands… plus it’s the least you could do… for breaking in…” You feel you’re pushing it with that last part, but decide to proceed with it anyway, any means necessary to get him to stay. He bites his bottom lip in thought as you stare up through your lashes and he thinks screw it. He’s sure you’re not setting him up, a little thing like you would be far too weak to pull that off.

“Okay, I… don’t see why not then.” He doesn’t sound certain, but you make such a good offer he’d be a fool not to accept. He bends down and swoops his hat off the floor, holding it to his chest and you take his hand once more, guiding him out of the barn.

He presses his lips together in an awkward smile at the way you confidently lead him, almost having to break into a jog to match your eager pace. Once nearing the house, you tell him your name and he nods — taking in the scenery.

You’re sitting him down in the living room before he can blink, and he takes in the setting around him. A real cozy place, a family home for sure — with a pale blue couch, a scratchy patchwork blanket draped over the back and floral cushions. There’s photos of you in multiple spots around the room, an only child — he gathers. The main photo sits on the mantelpiece, framed, a set of parents curtaining your smiling face in the image. You seem to be a few years younger, fuller in the face, still cute as a button.

He doesn’t quite realise you’d gone anywhere until you’re returning — the contents of an old first aid box rumbling in your grip. You give him a reassuring smile and lower to kneel by his feet, opening up the container and fishing around for some cotton pads.

“Do you have a name, mister?”

He clears his throat, trying to gage your reaction once he speaks, attempting to work out if the name rings any bells. “Uh, yeah. John B. John B. Routledge. You might’ve… actually heard of me. If you have, uh— I’m sorry.”

You don’t seem to react in any kind of alarming way, a smile grazing your face as you pour rubbing alcohol onto a soft white pad.

“Heard of you how? Are you famous?”

“…You’ve never seen those big ‘Wanted’ posters up in town? Kinda got my picture up on one of them.”

You peel up his shirt revealing tanned, toned skin and a wound that had crusted over with blood. You press the pad to it and he winces, knuckles turning white in his lap and head lulling back against the seat for a moment.

“Sorry.” You furrow your brows apologetically before continuing to mop up all the dried blood. “Oh, and I’m not allowed up in town. Not by myself anyway. So, I don’t keep up to date with all that… stuff.” You pull away, rifling through the box for another clean pad. He nods, eyes jumping to look at his wound and then back to you, watching your face for any discomfort regarding his presence. Oddly, there was none. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s wildly apparent now that you’ve truly been sheltered your whole life. There was this innocence you carried that was hard to come by, a lack of judgement that was sweet but made him worry for you slightly. You were lucky he had a good heart.

“That’s… probably for the best, actually. You know, they like to tell lies. I’m being falsely accused.” He speaks a little slower, and enunciates the last part as if you might not understand, and as expected— you hang onto every word, lips a little parted and wide eyed. It’s pretty cute, albeit inappropriate considering he’s a stranger.

As he speaks, you wrap his wound, pressing the sticky part down onto his skin before gently pressing the cotton covering his injury. “Well I’m really sorry about that John B. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You chirp, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss over the dressing, pulling back to offer him a sweet smile. The lines on John B’s forehead smooth out, his concerned expression melting into his own gentle smile of disbelief.

He wonders what the odds are that he’d stumbled upon a real life angel. Well, it was that — or you wanted to chop his body into tiny pieces whilst he slept and add it to your cauldron. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet, but you were pretty — and he was a total loverboy, so stupidly he was willing to take that risk.

He pulls his shirt back down over his now dressed wound and you begin to clear your things back into the first aid box.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Like, anything you need help with around here?” He offers and you look up at him, brows furrowing with adoration.

“Goodness, no— I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“Said you needed an extra pair of hands earlier.” He challenges with a smile.

“I only said that to get you to come inside. With your injury, I couldn’t possibly put you to work.”

He scrunches his face a little with a half scoff, half smile and shrugs one shoulder. “Please, this thing? It barely even stings. Come oooon.” He croons with a smirk, and you really feel the full effects of his charm now— the warm timbre of his voice headed straight to your clit giving it a heartbeat of its own.

“Fine.” It comes out airy with a giddy smile and you take his hand yet again, almost getting distracted by the coarseness against your palm, the sight of bulging veins along the backs of them.

Your bare feet are treading lightly over soft wood chip once more as you lead him toward the destroyed fence round the left side perimeter of the farm.

“So… I suppose you could carry all the planks back from the fence that fell down in that awful storm last week. I was gonna wait for my daddy to get home to get him to do it ‘cus I’m much too weak for something like that.” You point, and John B’s brown fluffy head follows your finger to the destination at hand. He nods, a doable task.

“Well a girl like you shouldn’t be lifting a finger anyway.” He turns his head back to face you with a smile, eyes squinted in the sun. He looks radiant, no sign of pain anymore and you look down at your night gown, scrunching it in your clammy hands with an uncontrollable grin at the floor, harbouring such an innocent crush on the boy already that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

His gaze stays on you for a tick whilst you step quietly and he speaks up again, tilting his head a little inquisitively. “I really, really hope this doesn’t sound rude… ‘cus I don’t mean to be. But… are you not… married?” He trails off, thinking of all the times he’s been walloped round the head in taverns for asking questions of a similar nature. Your smile doesn’t go away, your gentle nature not retiring for a moment.

“Oh no, no. I don’t meet boys often. Thats why I’m happy you came!” You chirp, hand reaching out to softly squeeze his arm. “Can be like husband and wife whilst you stay round.”

He just laughs in response. Not necessarily in a mean way, but the same way you laugh when a child tells you they’re going to be an astronaut when they grow up.

The brutal beating of the sun does nothing to stop the honest work you’d put the self proclaimed outlaw up to, he seems to be deep in thought often — carrying the planks to and fro. You slip inside for a while to change into something more appropriate, a sweet and floral sundress that ties up at the straps and hugs you in a more womanly way. You’d rubbed your lips together as you fixed your hair in the mirror before bringing him a sandwich in the early afternoon. “You are adorable.” He grins when you do so, and it wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for on your dress but it still made you warm in the face. He simply brought out a true primal bodily reaction from you— that’s why you’d skipped the panties under your dress. He was making you excited and slippery down there and you just didn’t see the point. You stay out for hours at a time to chat with him. Your affections grow.

John B. Routledge finally returns back to the house when he’s all finished and you let him lay down for a nap on your couch, finally getting some real rest in. Whilst he does so, you spend hours preparing a hearty meal — the type you reserve for when mama and papa have guests round. As the pie browns off just a moment longer in the oven, you come to the man’s side, kneeling beside him and stroking his fluffy hair back.

“I made dinner. Sure you’re really hungry.” You whisper and his eyes flutter once more, the arms that were crossed over his chest stretching out as he wakes. You sit back to give him space, and when he opens his eyes you’re there with a smile — the orange beam of sunset haloing your head. Something about an angel drafts through his mind once more and he stretches.

“Oh boy, I slept longer than I was meant to huh?” He sits up and you shrug, leading him through to the kitchen where you’d laid the round table. Steaming seasoned vegetables in a bowl, freshly picked by you. Warm bread, baked and scored by you with flowers the centrepiece of the table. A jug of gravy there too. There’s a tray of mashed potatoes waiting, creamy and delicious looking. Routledges stomach audibly growls and he chuckles at this as he sits down, taking in the scenery you’d laid out. “You… have spoiled me. All this for someone who breaks into your barn?” He chuckles as he lowers himself into the seat.

You follow him round the table with a giddy smile. “Told you I like havin’ guests.” You perch your bottom on his leg, an arm wrapped around his neck as your feet swing. It felt right. You’d always wanted to sit with a man this way, you’d seen it before in the picture shows. Man and wife, domestic bliss. His brows jump up and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“Oh… sweetheart, you shouldn’t do that. I am a— a stranger, after all.” He tries to do the responsible thing, even though there was something about your innocent brashness that was turning him on beyond belief. Your eyebrows knit in the centre, a line between them and your bottom lip seems to have doubled in size from how it pushes out.

“But I like you?” You mewl, rejected. It all seems so simple to you, which is probably feels super unfair. No one had taught you how to address men because you were so sheltered, and now it was giving you all of these complicated feelings that John B would have to deal with.

“And I like you — a whole bunch. You know I’m super grateful for you taking me in and… all that good stuff. But sitting right here is gonna… make me excited. Because I’m a guy. Go ahead and hop off for me.” He taps your lower back gently and you huff, feeling upset and rejected about the whole thing. His eyes are all wide and hopeful as he stares at you, like he wanted to make sure you were okay. The way he handles you so sweetly made your stomach stir despite your current mope.

You drag your feet to the oven comically and he stifles a chuckle at how dramatic you were, despite his sympathy. You place your hands into oven gloves and take out the pie— perfect and golden. You walk it to the table and John B sits up a little straighter, eyes darting between you and the food.

“Did this all by yourself? You have got a real knack for cooking. Should put you on the TV.” He grins, switching on the charm to attempt to loosen up your silent sulk. You nod, eyes casted down childishly and he reaches out to touch your arm. “Thank you, pretty girl.”

A small smile slips out, and he flickers his eyes over to the heart shape you’d scored onto the pie, his own lips twitching up into a smirk. “That for me?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.”

You end up giggling, his smile too infectious and your bad moment is all forgotten as you serve him a slice, plating up for him and then yourself before you eat. John B digs in ravenously, it’s almost erotic — the way he’s groaning at how good it all tastes, gravy dripping from his lips as he licks more off his fingers. He was clearly less proper-mannered than you, but you liked that. Table manners were for boring old people anyway. Maybe everything about him got you going, but you had to really concentrate on getting some food inside you instead of just watching the show of eating he was putting on.

Once you’re finished, and he’s finishing up on his third helping — you let your giggles die down from the wild goose chase story he relayed for you, one where he of course wound up the hero which only made your heart beat harder for him. Your socked foot begins to prod at his ankle, sliding up his leg until it rests in his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind, the food having lowered his guard just that bit as he leans back in his chair, undoing his belt. He adjusts his hips on the seat as he does so and your thighs clench.

“So what did you think?” You ask, though you think it’s clear that he liked the meal from the empty plates and unbuckled belt. He lets out a long satisfied sigh, gazing at you for a moment with a kind smile.

“I think, whoever gets to marry you is a lucky son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together, almost like he was disappointed about the idea of you with another. You blink, the hands resting beneath your chin dreamily slowly falling to play with eachother on the table.

“Why not you, John B?” You question sadly, giving him those eyes again. The ones that tug on his heart and made him wanna give you everything and anything you ask for. He lifts a napkin, bringing it to his mouth as he shakes his head dismissively, closing his eyes with a frown.

“Mm—mm.” The tissue fabric muffles the sound. “You don’t wanna marry me, believe me — okay, I’m an outlaw. Your parents would never in a billion years accept me. Anyway you… you deserve someone less rough and tumble, you know? Like a prince from a storybook. A bubblewrap life. Not… whatever this is.” He gestures to himself, more so the browned blood stain on his shirt.

You sigh, determined. “My parents would understand. They’re — they’re generous people.”

“Really? ‘Cus they don’t even let you leave the house.” He quips quickly in response, smirking at your naivety and you fall silent for a moment. His face flattens just a tad from guilt. You were far too soft for that kind of tone.

When you look up at him again, your face is more solemn — wide eyes searching his for a shred of understanding. “You don’t understand, John B. There are actual scary, dangerous men out there that would take me and do terrible things to me.”

The outlaw leans his elbows on the table, his lips stretched into an amused smile at the irony. There wasn’t an inkling of threat about the gesture, pure amusement coursing through the energy between you from his side alone. “And how do you know I’m not one of those scary, dangerous men. Hm?” His voice is warm, it seems to rumble straight from his chest. You release a shaky sigh.

“Well you haven’t hurt me yet?” Your voice lilts out, and you engage in a long stare off. There’s a different kind of tension in the air now, it’s hot and feels heavy on you. It oozes into the nooks and crannies of your balmy skin and slithers between your thighs. You can’t take the heat and you stand, beginning to bring his dishes to the sink to wash. It’s quiet for a while, John B watching you with this thoughtful and almost knowing smile as you tidy up around him. Even he couldn’t run from how good ‘domestic bliss’ felt.

You let yourself indulge in the fantasy too. Wife cleans up, husband sits behind at the table and sips at the drink she poured him. You wanted nothing more than to experience this everyday, and your heart sinks sadly at the fact that this will probably be the last. You lose yourself to thoughts and daydreams as you scrub away, to the point you nearly don’t hear him stand up, slowly walking to lean against the sink beside you.

You smile at him politely as he eyes you, and return your gaze to the plate in your hand. You mustn’t dwell. He moves, and soon he’s behind you, a hand resting against the sink beside your hip, head craning round to look at you from the other side. “You’re really serious about this husband and wife thing, aren’t you?”

“Very serious, sir.” You bat your lashes at him earnestly and his cock stirs in his pants at the title, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Bless your heart, you were only being courteous. He presses his lips together in thought and the side of your face warms with his slow exhale. Turning your body, you face him fully now. “I just think it was divine intervention that you wound up in my barn. You’re like an angel sent to take away my loneliness.” You’re shy, a little bashful about your beliefs and without thinking he cups your cheek in reassurance, thumb swiping slowly over the skin.

His eyes take in your every detail, and your lips part with a wobbly breath, nervous. “May I kiss you, John B?” You address, just as his thumb strokes the delicate skin below your eye. He grins, slightly amused by your formality and simply nods his head.

You stand on tip toes to reach him, socked feet almost knocking at his boots as your body presses to his, lips meeting. You’re a little messy, inexperienced— which comes as no surprise to the boy as he tilts his head, welcoming your mouth at another angle and taking control in order to guide you. You’re mostly a quick learner, slowing your pace to something much more sultry and he nearly can’t contain his excitement. He wants to be a gentleman, but as soon as he introduces his tongue — you lose composure, needy and all but panting into his mouth right then and there in the kitchen. He pulls away and breaks the string of saliva that connects your lips with his thumb, stroking it over your moist bottom lip as you stare at him readily.

He tilts his head, eyes wide and almost innocent as he gestures away. “You… want me to show you what husbands do with their wives?”

You nod so hard your eyes nearly roll back like one of those baby-dolls.

John B is the one to take your hand this time, leading you slowly and carefully through the house. You partially think he’s giving himself time to rethink what he’s about to do, but from the way your pussy is drooling into your panties — it feels set in stone. He finally reaches your bedroom and you watch his head move left and right as he takes it in, cheek lifting with a smile at the China dolls on the wall and the frilly white bedsheets. It’s clear your room hasn’t changed since you were a little girl. The sun is just starting to disappear behind your lace curtains and he switches on the lamp, sitting you down.

The man joins you, easing himself down at your side and cupping your cheek as he begins to kiss you again. He takes it slow, but the passion and need only grows as the splayed hand on your back begins to slide upwards until its cupping the back of your head and he’s beginning to slowly lower you to lie down like you’re made of glass.

Naturally you shuffle up the bed and he follows, hovering over you and leading with his tongue this time — the wet muscles wrapping around eachother languidly making you moan, legs falling wider apart.

“I wanna make you feel really good, okay? That okay with you?” He asks gently and you nod, sucking in a breath. You’d waited for something like this since you knew what pleasure was, craved the touch of a man with strong coarse hands and a wet mouth. Routledges thumbs swipe across your tits through your dress, massaging them until your nipples were poking painfully through the fabric as he burrows into your neck, licking and sucking.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as he tugs gently at your dress, eyes meeting yours once more.

“Let’s get this off, yeah?”

He tugs the garment up and over, puffing out his cheeks as he blows air out his mouth, brows raised at the sight of your naked body. You look so soft, so pliable beneath him. He was already hard just from kissing you, but this made him feel like he might combust. “Took your underwear off?” He smirks, pressing kisses to your stomach and between your tits before bringing his face up to eye level with you, same kind but teasing smile on his face. “Have you been needing me aaall day? Hm?”

You turn your head to the side, flustered and clammy with a whine— eyes screwed shut. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh, now you’re shy?”

“No, s’just — when you speak like that— n’say stuff like that… makes me hurt…” You’re breathless, hips twitching and bucking slightly as he grins, pearly whites showing.

“Aw.” Is all he manages before continuing his descent down.

He’s a real tease, spending an ungodly amount of time on your tits— sucking, licking and biting your nipples until you’re arched off the bed, teary eyed and wincing from sensitivity. It’s then, and only then he starts to kiss lower, pushing himself down your pristine sheets until he’s settling between your legs, gently easing your ankles upwards so that your knees faced the sky, your cunt fluttering and open right infront of his face.

“Well she’s very pretty.” He smiles up at you, thumbs coming up to spread you. He leans in slowly, hot breath fanning over your heat before he simply presses the softest kiss to your clit. He draws back again as you whimper, running the pads of his thumbs up along your spread folds. “Hear that? So wet, pretty girl.” He marvels in a whisper.

“Just want you to make it better.” You mewl and he nods slowly in understanding, tongue swiping over his lips as he observes you.

“That I can definitely do.” He confirms before leaning in, licking and sucking at your clit as his thumb automatically rolls downwards to massage your hole. You gasp, knees shooting up towards your chest as he eats you, similarly to the pure fervour and passion he only recently devoured the meal you cooked for him. You wondered how any appetite remained.

When he sinks his middle finger inside you, your stomach tenses — a high pitched noise of relief and utter devastation leaving you. You had no idea how badly you’d craved fullness to this very moment, and you weren’t even halfway there. He’s smiling against you, glancing up as you flutter around his single digit and make plenty of noise for him. “Yeah? Think you’ve really been needing some of that, little girl.” He nearly laughs at your extreme reaction. He had to admit, it was fun doing this with someone so inexperienced. Everything to you seemed like the best thing ever.

He eats and eats away, proving himself to have quite the monstrous appetite for your slick . Your feet rest on his shoulders at one point, lost in pleasure as you whine and writhe and to keep you out of the way, the outlaw pushes your legs up and pins them there, nose deep in your gloss.

“Feels too good— feels— hurts!” You cry, because you don’t know how to put that you’re simply aching to cum.

“Doesn’t hurt, sweet girl. Just let it happen.” He corrects in that low reverberation that you’ve grown to love. After a series of ‘Uh’ and ‘Mm’s, you feel yourself hitting that peak — the one you usually reach all over the soft cotton of your pillow, but ten times the strength.

As soon as he senses this happening, he doubles down and continues repeating the same action with his mouth over and over until you’re squealing and pushing him away, curling into a ball as your completion dribbles out of your quivering hole.

He grins, real proud of himself as he pushes up on his hands to near you, gently shushing you the same way you would to soothe a baby to sleep. “I know, that was a lot huh?” He coo’s, rubbing your back with his warm hand as you suffer the aftershocks, clenching and whimpering, a smaller clammy hand reaching out to his shirt to grab a fist of it.

He forces you softly onto your back, stroking a hand over your warm forehead. For someone so convinced the two of you shouldn’t be together, he sure did look at you like you were his entire world. By the gaze shared, you would never know the two of you only met that morning.

“What now, hm?” He smiles, quiet. You open your mouth to speak, and your voice rasps from the loud and explosive release that had you calling out.

“Wanna… make you feel as good as you made me feel, John B.”

He licks his lips, thinking over it. If it wasn’t already clear, his dick was throbbing in his pants just from pleasing you— and had you wanted to end things there he would be sure to take a trip to the bathroom to finish in his hand. Maybe swipe a pair of your underwear from the basin for inspiration, but that made his stomach tense with guilt.

“Think I can manage that, yeah.” He nods before reaching slowly for his belt. “Sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, good.”

His belt is still undone from after dinner so he slides the snakey leather from its loops with one hand, the act more attractive than you anticipated which made you clench once more with need. He sits on the edge of the bed and you usher up beside him, pressing your naked body to him and ghosting your drooly lips over his jaw line as he sighs, working his length out of his pants.

“Oh my.” You breathe, as soon as you look down. Now you hadn’t had much experience in dealing with the male anatomy, clearly — but you knew for certain John B had to be miles larger than the average man. His cock stood tall, straight — slightly mauve towards the tip with a beautiful blue vein drifting down his shaft like a river on a mountain. His balls sat beneath, heavy and pink — inviting in a way that made your mouth water primally.

“Yeah? This is… what m’working with.” He chuckles, sounding a little nervous.

“How do I…” You mutter after a moment and he’s quick to take your hand, pressing your fingers so that it forms a cup and bringing it to your mouth.

“You wanna spit for me, pretty? Right here.” He encourages and whilst you don’t understand, you do as he wishes, letting a bubbly glob of saliva drool out into the cupped crevice of your hand. You look up at him with wide unsure eyes, searching for praise or reassurance that you’d done as he asked. He presses his lips together at the sweet and submissive expression, shifting his hips a tad in excitement. “Mm, fuck.” He punctuates with an airy chuckle, ticking his head in a single shake.

He brings your hand down and begins to smear it all over himself, releasing a shaky exhale as he does so. “So, uh… you’re gonna wanna move your hand. Just like this.” He sighs as he works your hand up and down his shaft, slowly jerking him off. Your eyes flicker between his face and pretty dick to make sure you were doing it right. As you do so, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, muttering a “So sweet, bubba.” Against your mouth.

This only encourages you to gain confidence, doing whatever feels right. You twist your hand— squeezing just a tad harder towards the tip as that seemed to be what made him release that heavenly groan, jaw constantly agape as he watches your hand.

“Theeere you go sweetheart. Easy right? Like milking a cow.” He kisses your temple briskly once more before his eyes screw shut, chest heaving with quicker breaths. You get carried away, fascinated by the pearly precum that seeps from his slit as you work him with your hand and following your own judgment you lean down. You figure if he used his mouth on you, you could return the favour.

His eyes open with a loud shudder when you tentatively wrap your plush lips around his tip, working your hand up and down to try and squeeze more of the interesting salty flavour from him. You let out a long drawn out moan of your own as you feel your clit throbbing with desire, liberating his precum from your mouth to let it dribble back down his shaft in messy bubbles.

He winces, placing a hand on your shoulder and removing you with such an abrupt speed that you nearly flew off the side of the bed. You sit up straight, slick mouth pouting as your eyes flicker between his, worrying that you’d done something wrong. There’s a second of just looking at eachother, before you stumble over some words.

“S—Sorry. Did I hurt—”

“No, no God no. I uh— I just wasn’t sure if I should make a mess all over that pretty face just yet.” His wide eyed expression melts into a reassuring smile, thumb rising to swipe lovingly at your cheek. You lick your lips, savouring the taste of him and nod — not quite sure where to go from there.

Your silence makes him question, and he eyes you. “Is there… anything in particular you want now?”

You think, blinking your doll-like eyelashes off into the distance before nodding once more— pushing off away from him and scurrying to the head of the bed where you lay yourself gently on the pillows.

“Hm?” He follows up in confusion, craning his neck round to watch you.

“Would… like a baby now, please.” You spread your legs a little, shy and bashful in your request like you wasn’t sure if you’d asked impolitely. His face falls as he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes, rubbing over his face with an exasperated chuckle, elbows on his knees.

As you stare at him with with an upset little pout, already ashamed by your forwardness. “Like husband and wife?” You try to justify and he sighs out his nose, turning his body fully to you.

“Oh sweet girl.” He tugs you gently lower toward him by your hips, rubbing his thumbs at your waist. “We just met.”

You launch into full fledged begging, whiny and high pitched with tears threatening to dive over their trough. “I’ll make you so happy John B, I’ll make all your problems go away and you won’t have to run anymore. Please?” You were deadset on this man giving you your dream life, and you’d officially pushed shame to the side in order to get this. His brow is permanently creased, staring with those big wide puppy dog eyes, continually stroking your skin in hopes to calm you.

“Are you… sure that’s what you want? You’re still young. So much time for all that.”

“Just want it now. I’d never be lonely again.” You sound defeated, staring down away from him now. He felt bad, he’d always hated disappointing people. Once upon a time he was a fixer, always running to his friends aid to make their problems go away. That urge never died, just burned low and quiet like an old candle flame. He wanted to make your problems go away too.

“Okay.” He presses his lips together. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.”

He watches your devastated expression lift into a radiant grin, and it was like watching the sun appear from behind a grey cloud after weeks of downcast weather. “Yeah?” You chirp toothily as he crawls over you, leaking tip grazing your tummy and then your folds as he buries his face into your neck.

“Uh-huh.”

When he pushes his tip inside, John B says a prayer for the first time in his life.

He’d never really followed any religion. His father had been the type to say it was all a bunch of ‘Mumbo jumbo’ and that he should believe in the human psyche instead, or something like that. But as your wet folds swallow him and you release that high pitched mewl at the inevitable stretch — he finds himself asking God — please, please don’t let me knock this young girl up.

There’s a warm blanket of chills that cover his spine as he slowly sheathes inside of you, feeling like he was pushing deeper and deeper into a black hole that would selfishly keep sucking him inside for the rest of his life. It felt too good, calming — like falling asleep. He was euphoric.

“So — so big inside me!” Your cry knocks him out of his thoughts and he kisses your shoulder before looking down to watch himself push in all the way to the hilt.

“Feel okay, gorgeous?”

You nod, a pained whine falling from you as you dig your nails into his skin, walls fluttering around him like they were constantly trying to accommodate for this thickness. “Fuck.” He groans, before sliding back a little and starting to thrust. Yeah, he wasn’t gonna last too long— he needed to get to work on you fast.

As he gently fucks into you, your plush tits recoil with the movement and he can’t close his mouth, sounds and sighs leaving him without permission. A hand slides between the two of you, the other pulling his shirt up to grip between his teeth— giving himself a better view of the way he strokes at your clit — your legs being spread exposing it, making it easier for him.

You clench, and shudder — that sweet face contorting with each time his tip ever so slightly grazes your cervix, careful not to bruise it. You really were beautiful, that type of homely beauty he’d thought of marrying in his lonely nights of travelling through desert and grass. The type of girl you work for, the type that deserves spoiling, princess treatment. The more he fucks, the more he’s convincing himself that impregnating you might not be the most awful thing after all. Why should he chase away security?

Your fingertips grace his chest, and he takes your hand — pinning it to the bed as your fingers intertwine, using the grip to aid his rolling thrusts— speeding up the pace and force now he knew you could take it like a champ. His mouth opens to speak, and his shirt drops out of it.

“Taking me real good baby. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” He coo’s and you can only nod, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes before rolling down to your temples. Poor thing, lost for words.

There’s a wet slapping sound with each thrust, your cunt equally gushing as it was thirsty — hungrily welcoming each inch of his, and even demanding more by locking your ankles around his lower back. Perhaps you did it for comfort, or perhaps because you suspected a hesitance, the threat of him pulling out last minute too much for your baby-crazed brain.

“Jesus. Sweet little puppy.” He breathes like it’s a revelation beneath your ear, the curly tuft of hair above his shaft tickling you as he continues to rub your clit.

“S’gonna happen again, John B. The big feeling.” You strain, eyes clamped shut and sniffling— too overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. He kisses each eye lid and watches you closely, experiencing you unfold once more.

“Thats my good girl. Let me have it, pup. Gimme a good one.”

You’re an explosion of whimpers and moans, thrashing under his firm grip once more— and he’s not sure when your orgasm ends, if it even ends at all— he doesn’t care, the release pushing him close to his own. He speeds up his pace, hand that was at your clit now wrapping around your lower back, forearm pushing your lower half up and against him, forcing you to just keep taking him.

He was like a beast from a fairytale book, fucking wildly into you with a primal determination that had you struggling to breathe. You’re crying now, full out crying because it’s just so much. There’s still one last thing you require, and only he can give you it.

“You wanna make me daddy, huh?” He demands, that gentleness in his voice gone. It’s nearly unrecognisable from him, and you preen beneath the rough touch.

“Mhm!”

“Words.” He barks. He didn’t mean to be mean, he just got a little bossy when he was close. You’d come to learn that.

“Please give me a baby. Please just — make you a daddy! Need it!” You’re squealing, voice shaking from the hard ‘plap plap plap’ of his balls slapping against you. You feel you might pass out if this goes on much longer.

He releases with a long groan, lips dropping to the centre of your chest and back arching upwards. You register his sounds before you feel it, hot slimy ropes of him— shooting up inside you, warming your walls. You moan too, because it feels so good to be full. It feels right, like this was what had been missing after all.

Everything is a blur for the next few minutes. It’s like you black out a little, because maybe you forgot to be breathing like you should have been. You briefly recall John B scooping you up and helping you through that, ignoring the gooey seed dripping from you to cradle you like a baby, humming a calm “Breathe, sweetheart. In and out. With me, c’mon.” Your gentle boy was back, and through your haze you smile.

Once you’re tucked at his side beneath a soft cotton blanket, his hand stroking over your head after cleaning you up, a whispered conversation ensues.

“Do you really like me John B? Like, you really think I’m beautiful?” You inquire, gazing up at him with stuck together black eyelashes. The question was so innocent, yet he could tell it was so meaningful.

His expression doesnt falter, a gentle smile sat comfortably on his lips as he continues to pet you. “Baby, I think you’re the ponds swan. Just… gotta get to know you a little better, okay? ‘Specially if I really did put a baby in you.” Only then his smile falters, brows knitting as the reality sets in. Oh Lord.

“Okay.” Your eyes flutter closed, happy to leave it at that, happy to fall asleep right by his side under his watchful eye. It was unnerving how safe a lonely girl could feel with a stranger.

“Okay. Good girl. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” He quietly reassures, watching you drift off. He’s not sure if he’s trying to dispel your fears, or his own.

#outlaw!johnb #john b fic 🎀

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aphroditelovesu · 4 months

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Yandere Roronoa Zoro Headcanons (General)

''I would sacrifice everything and everyone for you.'' — Roronoa Zoro.

❝ 👒 — lady l: It gave me a burst of energy at 4 am and I wrote this headcanons out of nowhere, but I really like Zoro (both the anime and the live action) and I ended up having fun. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 💚🖤

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of stalking, jealousy and mention of murder.

❝👒pairing: yandere!roronoa zoro x gender neutral!reader.

Roronoa Zoro has always been indifferent to many things and people and one of those people was you, at first. When you joined the Straw Hat, he didn't think much, he just accepted you as a member of the crew and thought that his life would continue as it had always been before you. Needless to say, he was wrong.

He warmed to you slowly and gradually, in a way so subtle that even he hadn't noticed. Like sitting next to you to drink, looking at you subtly and helping you with common Going Merry tasks. All these activities became commonplace and he found himself yearning more and more for more time by your side.

The way he became uncomfortable and irritated when another Mugiwara spent too much time by your side, time that he should have spent. His gaze hardened and his grip on his swords became stronger.

Zoro had never felt like this before, this need for protection, the desire to protect what was his. He never felt this way about anyone else. He loves his friends deeply, but he didn't feel the same connection with them that he felt with you. You were more special, he just didn't know why.

He wanted to stay by your side, protect you. It was a need, an instinct that threatened to consume him from the inside out if Zoro didn't do it. You became his friend, his duty and his obsession.

Zoro is always on the lookout, watching you carefully, protecting you from a distance. He has his eye on anyone who breathes too close to you. They can be a threat, hurt you and he would rather be cursed than let that happen to you. And even with his own friends, his own Captain, he was watching.

He defends your honor fiercely and proudly, anyone who dares to say a bad thing about you will have a bad time with him. You're his, there's no way Zoro would let someone talk bad about you and get away with it. He will get into fights to the death if necessary.

You're the only one who really knows Zoro's soft side, so to speak. He comes across as serious and abrasive, often grumpy, even with his crew, but with you he's almost always smiling. He often says that your presence makes him happy when someone questions him and usually curses the person for being so nosy.

He loves you more than he loves sake and that means he really cares about you. Even if you don't like drinking alcohol, Zoro will be drinking next to you, just enjoying your company. He likes to sleep next to you too, even if it's in an innocent way. He feels more comfortable this way.

Zoro is extremely possessive of you and doesn't feel guilty about it. You are his, from his crew, so you must stay away from the others. He will never blame you for something, it's others who are to blame and Zoro is more than willing to cut them to pieces if someone crosses you, if they cross him. He will give you that person's head as a gift later.

It's not uncommon for him to be jealous, but he will never admit it. The deadly looks that are thrown when someone approaches you, the grip on the sword and eventually that person's head rolling can give some clue as to how jealous he is.

Zoro is very overprotective and this combined with his possessiveness means that you have no privacy around him. Although he's not the biggest fan of physical contact, he has no problem holding your hand or even hugging you. He loves his friends, he loves his crew but if he had to choose between you and them, Zoro would choose you without thinking twice. He would sacrifice them if you asked.

He is a pirate, a pirate hunter who has become one of the most wanted pirates in the world. Zoro has important connections and he knows how to fight very well, after all, he wants to become the greatest swordsman in the world. He knows how to get rid of the mess he's made, how to get rid of someone.

Roronoa Zoro is your protector, your friend and your obsessed stalker. Every time you arrive at a new island, he doesn't leave your side and observes the surroundings attentively, while keeping you tied to him. He can't let anything happen to you and that's why he's so overprotective. He won't lose someone he cares about, not again. He's not that bad, just be careful with other people around him and everything will be fine.

#yandere one piece #dark one piece #one piece #yandere roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #yandere roronoa zoro x reader #yandere zoro x reader #zoro x reader #headcanons #yandere headcanons #roronoa zoro x reader #yandere zoro headcanons #yandere zoro #yandere roronoa zoro Headcanons

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twelve-forfend · 4 months

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Well, I did say this was a multi-fandom blog... Alright, let's do this.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House

(and the symbolism therein, as recorded in the donghua)

I was snooping through the establishing shots of the Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House, and had to laugh as I always do at all the gay symbolism that managed to sneak its way inside. But then I looked a little closer, and was floored by just how much passive storytelling was packed into background assets. I talked about it at length over discord, and at the urging of others decided to make a shareable post on social media as well.

First, the shots which first piqued my interest in this topic years ago:

Shen Yuan transmigrates into the stallion-genre webnovel entitled 狂傲仙魔途 (translated as Proud Immortal Demon Way). The author's and his own usernames are dick jokes.

Notice the chrysanthemum vase, the cock vase, and the stallion statuette.

The stallion and cock are obvious nods to these jokes on their own, but for the uninitiated, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of gay sex between men, as the asshole itself is often euphemistically referred to as a chrysanthemum. This should have been Shen Yuan's first clue that not all is as it seems here! These are the personal quarters of Shen Jiu — the original Shen Qingqiu!

But let's move to the main room you first walk into upon entering the bamboo house.

There it is: the writing on the wall.

As the Peak Lord of strategy and the scholarly arts, Shen Qingqiu would naturally have calligraphy and paintings hanging everywhere! So let's break it down.

On the top we have 道㳒自然 ("Dao Follows Nature"), which comes from a Dao teaching by Laozi (founder of Daoism) meaning that life, death, the entire universe, the heavens and earth and everything outside and inbetween, all follow a set of laws referred to as the nature of things. Although unrelated to the Buddhist couplet below, it's certainly relevant!

Originally hanging in right-to-left order, I've arranged them to read left to right here to make things easier to keep track of. The calligraphy reads 西方竹葉千年翠；南海蓮九品香 and is a couplet commonly found in Guanyin temples. My classical chinese is not as strong as I'd like, but this translates roughly to "The bamboo leaves in Paradise are green for a thousand years / The fragrance of lotus flowers in the South China Sea is as thick as 9 sticks of incense."

The character 西 for West is used to denote the destination of enlightenment/purity: the buddhist Paradise (think Journey to the West). The South China Sea is where Guanyin was born. Upon the Lotus flowers is where Guanyin is commonly depicted as sitting. The "9 sticks of incense" though literal can also refer to the 9 tiers/grades of reincarnation lotuses with the 9th tier being the lowest, meant for those who in life committed the most evil of crimes — the 4 parajikas — and who can only manage a sincere Amitabha recitation 10 times and no more than this.

To put this in context with Shen Jiu (the same jiu as in 9/九), the 4 parajikas committed by the 9th Tier Lotuses Reborn (officially entitled the Lowest of the Low) are:

Sexual Intercourse

Stealing

Murder

Claiming attainments of stages of pure mental concentration that have not been achieved (in other words, rushing or lying about your cultivation/enlightenment, or maybe even becoming a Peak Lord without having formed a golden core beforehand).

From what we know in the context of the novel, Shen Jiu is innocent of at least the first of this parajikas, but the overall view of Shen Jiu in the eyes of others in the story is that he is guilty of them all. This calligraphy can be seen as a condemnation or a reminder for the character Shen Jiu, who even as the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu is widely thought of as a scum villain and the lowest of the low.

Phew! That's a lot to unpack.

But if you turn your gaze to the original screenshot, you'll see to the right that there's a vase painted with a blue bird. This vase appears in several rooms of the bamboo house, and seems to be the image of a qingniao (青鸟; lit: Qing bird, wherein 青 can mean blue/green/clear-but-brackish black).

These qing-coloured birds are messengers and foragers of the Goddess-Mother of Paradise (Xiwang-mu 西王母, the "west/paradise" character from before, lit West-King(unisex)-Mother). They're a highly intelligent species who are exceptional in song (a good representative for Qing Jing's scholarly arts and pursuit of qin!), and the older ones might learn to speak human tongue. As a subspecies of luanniao (鸾鸟 lit: luan bird), they're thought to be related to The Phoenix and indeed thought to be the lifetime/samsara just before being reborn as a Phoenix.

If given to a "master" they don't like, the qingniao may refuse to pass messages or sing until they're set free, but if they do get along with you then they're loyal to the end.

As a point of interest, the Qing generation of Peak Lords uses the character 清, which is 青 ("colour of nature; brackish black, blue, green; young) + the radical for "water," resulting in the meaning of clear (as in water or heart; see-through); distinct; quiet (as in still); just and honest; pure; to settle or clear up; to clean up, expunge, or purge.

And as a bit of trivia, Liu Qingge's sword Cheng Luan 乘鸾 means "to ride the luan, take flight on the back of a luan." (Relevant, because the qingniao is considered a subspecies of luanniao).

With the Lords of both Qing Jing and Bai Zhan referencing this bird, I really wonder about its significance! It's spawning plenty of theories and headcanons for me.

Heading back outside for a moment, you'll find that in the Quiet Pool (清静小池 qingjing xiaochi (yes, the same Qing Jing the peak is named for)), there are lotuses, and on land there are flower shrubs which are either wide-petaled chrysanthemums (gay bottom jokes ahoy), or a type of peony, the king of flowers demarcating wealth and prosperity. Either way, a blossom fitting of our Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!

My one regret is that I cannot get a clear shot of the fan hanging on the wall to try and translate the calligraphy on it. If anyone can snag one, please tag me! I also couldn't translate the paintings with poems hanging in Shen Qingqiu's bedroom (it's just too small and blurry for my bad eyes to make out). If I make another post attempting these things, I'll append them to this initial post in an edit afterwards.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #liu qingge #i started writing this at 3am #and now it's 8am #what am i doing with my life #who have i become #qing jing peak

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loveandmurders · 5 months

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You belong to Ambrose II (poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Hello everyone! First, I really want to thank you all for the love you gave to the first part of this story (that you can find here). 😍🥰

It made me so happy but also very anxious about this next part haha! I planned 3 parts in total (a fourth maybe, if you ask for it), and I do hope you'll enjoy this series as much as you did at first <3 <3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of stalking, kidnapping and murders, morally grey reader, reader getting angry, sad and feeling guilty, some strong words, dark!brothers, very brief mentions of sexual desire and activities

Lester was good at following people without them to notice him, even if there was no one else on the road. He knew the roads by heart and his hearing was sharp, so he could guess where a car was without being right behind it. He actually parked near the forest and simply closed his eyes to guess which roads you were taking. He guessed you were at the campsite; a lot of tourists stayed there too. You were making things very easy for him and he thanked his luck. When everything seemed quiet again, he walked through the woods, just to make sure he was right and indeed, he found you sat with your people. You were five in total, but you all looked too gentle and soft to really be a problem for him and his brothers. He watched you, hidden behind a tree. His heart was clenching at the sight of you laughing. Even if it wasn’t with him, just hearing this beautiful sound once again was making him thrilled. He couldn’t wait for his hands to roam your body like they used to either.

He let you eat with your friends and he let you fall asleep under the bright sky full of stars. He saw you chatting a little while with one of the boys of the group and he had to admit he really didn’t like it. He didn’t know if he was your boyfriend or not, but he was definitively jealous. And he would need to talk about it to the twins so they could get rid of the man. Actually, he wanted everyone dead as quickly as possible, because you didn't belong to any of them.

He texted the location to his brothers.

Soon enough, the three men were towering over your group, their whole being finally calming down: you were back in their life and they weren’t going to let you go anymore. They couldn’t believe you were finally there and they didn’t attack your group right away. They wanted to enjoy the calmness written all over your face first. They always thought you were looking like an angel when you were sleeping. Vincent tried to memorise the scene so he could draw your sleeping form under the moon. Bo almost smiled, so relieved you hadn’t disappeared forever. Lester was the only one growing impatient. The twins knew things weren’t going to be too pretty after they kidnapped your group and they didn’t want that. They wanted to go straight to the moment where you would allow them to show you tenderness and to pleasure you. It was going to be so much work, so they wanted to enjoy the peace of the moment.

If only you had never left them; things would have been so much better.

If only you hadn’t decided to camp so close to Ambrose, you would have been safe.

Deep down, you knew you should have asked your friends to drive away as far away as possible, but you didn’t.

Because you didn’t want your friends to worry about anything and to ruin the nice mood.

Because you knew it was useless; the Sinclairs were hunters and they never let go of their prey until they had it.

Because you wanted the brothers to force you back into their lives, even though you would rather die than admit it.

You knew it was over when you woke up, in the middle of the night, feeling watched. You also heard quiet footsteps all over your group. You could have grabbed the little knife you had in your bag, or you could have screamed to wake up everyone, but you didn’t. You simply waited. You didn’t want the Sinclairs to have to hurt your friends or yourself. Maybe especially yourself.

You still jumped when you felt a hand over your mouth and you looked up. You recognised Bo’s touch on you and tried your best to not start crying out of fear. The man shushed you into your ear, before he took into your delicious scent.

“Shh, sweetheart, won’t hurt ya, 'kay? No need to make things difficult” he whispered to you and you nodded which made him smile “Atta girl” he praised you.

It was then you noticed two shadows moving over your friends. You weren’t too sure what they were going to do to them. You started to panic and tried to get away from Bo’s touch. “We won’t kill them. Yet. We’re just druggin’ them so we can brin’ them to Ambrose with us” Bo explained to you. You calmed down but you still shook your head at that. “I know ya want them all safe and sound, but we can’t let them go to the police, so they come” Bo replied and you heard the venom in his voice. He couldn’t hide the jealousy and the rage of his girl loving other people than him and his brothers “Time to go back to sleep, princess” he mused and you tried to fight as he pressed a tissue over your face.

You didn’t struggle for long before everything went dark.

When you opened your eyes again, you felt like you were back years ago. You were laying down in the guest room in the Sinclairs' house; a guest room that was actually yours because Trudy insisted for you to leave your belongings there, as it was your second house. It wasn’t like the Sinclairs were inviting anyone else at home anyways (or that anyone wanted to sleep in their house either). Your parents weren’t too happy about it, but you often slept there. The room was still the same with its pinkish walls and the cream furniture. Drawings were on the walls. You almost wondered if you were going to be late for school before you realised what truly happened.

The Sinclairs kidnapped you and your friends.

You tried to sit up but you realised one of your hands was cuffed to the bed frame. You cursed and tried to get your hand free until you heard footsteps in the corridor. You stopped breathing, waiting for someone to enter the room. Your heart was hammering inside your chest. You wanted to believe it was all a nightmare, and that you were going to wake up soon.

Bo cracked the door open and smiled when he noticed you were awake.

“Hello, doll,” he hummed as he entered the room.

You finally could have a good look at him and you had to admit he became as handsome as you thought he would be. You looked away, afraid of what was going to happen to you, afraid of him. Your whole body was tense and you cursed yourself for having tempted the devil like your mother asked you not to. You had been so so stupid.

Bo walked to you before cupping your face to force you to look at him. He had lost his smile. His thumb gently stroked your cheek. You tried very hard to not start crying. Or to not lean into his touch. His skin felt so warm against yours.

“Please, Bo. Let us go” you whispered. You noticed that the man’s jaw tightened. It was clearly not the first words he wanted to hear from you after all this time.

“Trust me, no one’s leavin’ no more” he harshly replied and tears fell down your cheeks. It calmed him down “Ah baby” he shushed as he knelt beside you to kiss your tears away. You hated how much you loved to feel his lips on your skin once again. “Ya’re meant to be a Sinclair, ‘s fate bringin’ ya where ya belong. And we’re all gonna take an extra good care of ya for all the years we had to go through without ya” he continued as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You want me, keep me and let everyone else go, please. They have nothing to do with this.” you begged again. Bo sighted.

“Ya shouldn’t’ve left Ambrose, doll. Now ya have to pay the price for it” he simply shrugged and got up. “Gonna bring ya some breakfast, baby, I’ll be back” he added and left the room.

You cried even more, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reason with the Sinclairs. You hoped your people were still alive so you could help them to escape, even if it meant you would stay at Ambrose forever.

You were tugging on the handcuff again when you heard the door being opened a second time. You looked up to see Vincent watching you from the entrance. He looked like the shy boy you met the first time. You swallowed hard. You wanted to ask him what he did with your friends but you realised you were too afraid of the answer, so you stayed silent. Vincent finally moved closer to you and knelt in front of the bed. His fingers gently traced your face, as to memorise the change in your features since last time he saw you. You let him do it and closed your eyes. He removed the tears with a sad pout concealed behind his mask. You could pretend you were still a teenager, and Vincent was quietly flirting with you through tender touches.

You opened your eyes again when you felt the masked twin grab your free hand. He removed enough of his mask to press your palm against his scarred skin. You could have stayed immobile, but you didn’t. You gently stroked his cheek and he hummed in approval, his eye closed in well being. It felt so good to finally get your touch back.

“Hi, Vinny” you whispered and he looked up at you with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He kissed your hand. “Not gonna hurt me, right?” you asked, just to make sure. The man instantly shook his head. “Not gonna turn me into a wax statue either?” you added with a bite of your lips. Same answer. Relief flooded through you.

Forever love you. Missed you so badly. He slowly signed to you, as he wasn’t certain you still remembered ASL, but you did.

You didn’t have time to answer before Bo entered the room with a trail of food. It smelt good; you could already recognise his signature pancakes. Vincent stood up as Bo put the trail on the nightstand.

“Gonna untie ya, but nothin’ stupid, girl” he warned you and you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. You weren’t too sure how you could be any more stupid than you already had been. What were you thinking when you decided to bring your friends so close to Ambrose? You wondered if deep down you hadn’t wanted this. “Y/N” Bo groaned and you simply tug on the handcuff. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself now!” Bo exclaimed as his hand flew on your wrist and you stopped tugging.

“Untie me then” you replied and Bo let escape a little smirk

“Ah yes, ya’re so hot when ya’re all bossy, ain’t ya?” he teased as he removed the handcuff from your wrist. You didn’t reply because you refused to acknowledge him flirting with you, like he used to. You massaged your wrist as you sat up.

Knowing they weren’t going to hurt or kill you, appeased you a little and you thanked Bo for the food. You actually ate it with appetite, even though the twins’ stares were making you feel uncomfortable. They both sat, on a chair or on a desk, staying silent. They shared looks from time to time, but you tried your best to not mind them.

“Are they dead already?” you suddenly asked, because you needed to know

“Who?” Bo asked back, feigning innocence

“My friends” you groaned, your stomach twisted in worry. Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten before asking this question, you thought.

“No idea who ya’re talkin’ ‘bout” Bo shrugged.

You had a very bad feeling. You turned your attention toward Vincent, who tried to look away from you.

"Vincent." you simply said "Are they dead?"

Vincent hesitated about what to say. In the end, he slowly nodded at you.

You got up and threw the plate on the wall in one swift and yet brutal movement. The porcelain broke as you started to angrily scream at them.

“Fuck! Fuck you all!” you cried out as both the twins got up. Bo tried to sit you back on the bed but you shoved him to the side. You grabbed Vincent by the shoulders “I swear to God, Vincent, if you fucking turned them into wax statues, I’m gonna burn down your cherished House of Wax to the fucking ground!!” you yelled even more.

Vincent’s eye widened and he thought about the four bodies he had already prepared to turn into statues. He quickly nodded though. He had no desire in upsetting you even more. And god forbid the twins to think how hot and attractive you were when you were so angry… If only you weren’t mad at them.

“How ‘bout ya calm down?” Bo grumbled but it only angered you more

“That I calm down? That I fucking calm down? You killed my people!! And then you wonder why I left Ambrose and never came to you all?” you screamed. Your words hurt Bo a lot more than he could admit so his own anger rose inside his chest

“Oh yeah? Well it’s funny ‘cause I ain’t rememberin’ ya carin’ that much about the killin’ before! Ya knew what mother and father were doin’ and it didn’t stop ya from livin’ with us most of your time!” Bo argued back

“It was different, it was your parents! I thought we could all live away from this mess, but no, you both decided the mess was worth it!” you continued

“It was the only life for us, and ya know it!” Bo replied as he gestured at Vincent who looked down

“You scared me off Ambrose” you cried out

“But now ya’re back and ya’re never fuckin’ leavin’ ever again! Ya’re ours, don’t ya know it, Y/N? Ya gave us everythin’ and we gave ya our souls in exchange! Didn’t ya enjoy flirtin’, kissin’ and havin’ sex with us? Or maybe ya were just a whore” Bo replied and you slapped him.

You didn’t even realise what you did, you just did it. Bo pushed you on the bed and Vincent quickly stopped his twin from coming closer to you. But you weren’t afraid. You couldn’t be afraid of the people you truly had loved the most in your existence, and who had always been eager to do anything for you.

It was why the brothers loved you with such fierce passion; you had the strength to call them out on their bullshit and to make them obey. They were wrapped around your little finger, but it came with a cost: they would burn the whole world down if it meant keeping you theirs.

“Is that what you think of me? Great, Beauregard! But it can’t hurt me more than what you just did to my friends! And then you dare tell me you love me?” you said as you sent a glance at Vincent who felt like you pierced his heart with a dagger “It ain’t love, that might be why I ran away from you all! I shouldn’t’ve come back to the South of the country. Stupid fucking bad luck!”

Bo was about to reply to this, even though Vincent was trying to calm him down, but the door opened again. You saw Lester entering the room with a worried expression written all over his face. Things were really not going the way it was supposed to, he thought. He had heard you arguing with Bo from downstairs and he hoped he could put everyone back in a good mood.

But you couldn’t even stand looking at him after what happened. You got up once again and pushed the twins away from you.

“You know what, get all the fuck out of my room!” you yelled and you continued to push them toward the door. Once they were all out, you slammed the door shut and fell on your knees as you silently started to cry.

Taglist : @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @thatbitchanna27 ; @robin-the-enby ; @i-like-horror-andshitt ; @cecilwritesstuff ; @delusion-is-convenient ; @artificialintestines ; @sugarrush-blush ; @crypticlxrsh ; @g0thl3zz ; @katerinaval ; @oneofvincentscandles ; @limehaspassed ; @sillylittlereader ; @mommymilkerfanclub ; @oranedgp ; @mottysith ; @partlyvee ; @gorewhore123 ; @mrstargayen09 ; @aesthetic-bitches-tum ; @mfnqueen1 ; @etheralrue ; @nanami-kento-simp ; @bluekuu ; @excusemyrandomramblings ; @fluffy-little-demon ; @oneofvincentscandles ; @domoron ; @narcolepticduck

(I really hope I didn't forget anyone! <3)

PART III

#house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x s/o #lester sinclair x you #lester sinclair x reader #poly!sinclair x you #poly!sinclairs x s/o #poly!sinclairs x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #slasher x reader #poly!slashers x you #poly!slashers x reader #poly!slashers x s/o

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manicrouge · 3 months

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Christmas Comfort

[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 (REPOSTED: 09/02/24)

[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3.3k

[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)

[ᴀ/ɴ]: THIS IS A REPOST !! I've had few issues with shadowbans and have moved accounts a few times (tumblr thought I was a bot). I want all of my stories to be on the same blog so I apologise for the repost.

ANYWAY !! ENJOY !!

Christmas this year is going to be tough.

You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve.

Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.

When you were talking on the phone earlier, sometime during the middle of November, he had made a comment that he wasn’t going to come back home until he had made sure he had the pleasure of declaring that the enemy that had murdered his best friend was officially gone for good. While your chest tightened at his comment, you had nodded along and assured him that they would catch Makarov eventually; there were only so many places one man could hide before he’d revert back to familiar ground.

You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.

Of course, you would never say that to his face.

Despite his capability in combat, however, you often find yourself awake at night wondering just how capable he was when it came to processing and dealing with loss. Had he done what you assume he has done, he was most likely going to run from it instead of addressing it. Problems will build up and up until they came tumbling down. It’s a simple thought to construct during the late nights you have been spending alone since the news of what had happened to Johnny had found its way to you. Just as such a thought is easy to construct, you find that another one comes to you quicker than the former: where would Simon be when the building he’d constructed over the years fell to pieces?

There were only so many places he man could hide before he’d refer back to familiar ground. Even if said ground was crumbling around him. Maybe in his misery, he would find solace in falling to his doom with the chunks of shattered earth surrounding him.

If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.

You have very little to go off of concerning with how he dealt with loss, the occasional comment about his mum was enough for you to know that he wasn’t the type to completely forget about a loved one.

He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better.

‘You keep pawing an’ clawing at my brain like a damn puppy,’ he said, trailing his hands through your hair. You were guilty, for sure you were. Curiosity was sure to be the death of you in that regard. He’d let small facts slip on occasion, although, you knew his accidental slip ups were most definitely intention.

Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.

’Just tell me something,’ you begged, ‘like… I don’t know, what was your favourite food to eat at Christmas when you were younger? Ooo, I bet it was something like liquorice. You’d so make your nan pissed by robbing all the good shit out of the sweet tin.’ You laughed at the thought of a tiny Simon Riley climbing on top of a chair, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to snatch the sweet, sweet treat of liquorice.

‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’

‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.

‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’

‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’

‘No,’ he reverted back to the same Simon you had seen when Johnny had been talking his ear off during the rare nights out you had had with 141. ’Now go t’ sleep, gonna be tired in the morning if you keep rambling on. My ears are burning with ya, doll,’ he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest.

Despite everything telling you to pull away from him, you maintained your closeness, the warmth of him far too appetising to refuse. Exhaling deeply, you rested your head against the pillow, staring straight at the wall in front of you. Your heart hurt at the very thought that he cared so little about his past that he fought to keep everything from his earlier life away from you. Even the smallest things. Of course, you would never had pried him, only the few passing comments in hopes for him to slip up as he had done a few times before.

Another hard sigh escaped you as you close your eyes. He shifted behind you, resting his head against your shoulder. You thought nothing of his sudden movement; it wasn’t uncommon for him to do so while you were sharing a bed together. Only, he turned his head, his breath ghosting your ear. Inhaling, he swallowed hard. ‘Mum used to make us roast dinners,’ he whispered, ‘used to always slap my hand away whenever she was cooking cause I used to always rob the pigs-in-blankets while she was still getting dinner ready.’

A small laugh passed your lips as you turned in his hold, placing your hand against his cheek with a cheeky grin. He stares back, blue gaze gutting through the darkness, slicing your soul to pieces. ‘Now, will y’ stop huffin’ and puffing and just go to sleep?’ He asked, placing his hand over yours.

‘Soundly, Lt.’

Even behind the mask, you could sense the sadness, the loss. A flurry of emotions hits you when you first see him after what has happened. What can you say to him? Anything other than I’m sorry seems to be an insult to him and to the memory of the man that is sure to haunt him.

The mask hides his face, but it never hid his eyes, his tired and war-weary eyes. It's a brutal sight to see the man who had put the fear of God through you when you had first met reduced to this crushed soul.

‘Simon,’ you say after a while of the pair of you just standing there, staring at each other. For a brief moment, it felt as though you had opened the door to a stranger instead of your boyfriend. Lifting his head, his Adams apple bobs beneath his balaclava as he steps forward. You take a step back, letting go of the edge of the door. Still, he doesn't speak, only standing there, observing you. ‘I thought you said you weren’t coming home until—‘

‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.

His clothes are branded with the stench of war, and you take note of his bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? You thought it impossible for such to be the case, he’d do no such thing. But, when he shakily inhales, grabbing the edge of his balaclava, your stomach dropped.

‘Place looks nice,’ he says, though his eyes don't leave you, ripping his mask from off of his face, shoving it into of his cargo pants. His words were shaky despite the stoic expression on his face. ‘You been alright?’

You look at him with wide eyes. ‘I- uh- yeah, yeah, just sorting out last minute things for Christmas,’ you answer, ‘how about you go and get a shower, get changed into some fresh clothes? I’ll make you something to eat—‘

‘Not hungry,’ he answers frankly, ‘appreciate the offer, doll, but I think I’m just gonna go straight to bed,’ he says. All the moisture in your mouth disappears and you’re forced to swallow a dry mouthful of air as you look up at him.

‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.

He doesn’t answer you after that, dropping his duffle bag down on the ground by the front door as he traipses up the wooden steps of your home. The garland wrapped around the bannister winks at you as you watch Simon walk up the stairs, almost mocking you for ever think it was a good idea to decorate.

The entirety of your house is wrapped like a Christmas present, reds, greens, colourful lights- everything. Whether it was the right thing to decorate or not, you choose not to focus on it too much as you rush around the house, switching off the decorations and the lights, leaving the washing you had been doing on the counter in the kitchen.

All of it can wait. But he can’t.

So, with such a thought in mind, you busy yourself with your plan. What is included in that plan can be decided as you’re walking through the house, back to the staircase you have just seen your poor boyfriend walking up.

Jogging up each step, you decide that ultimately, everything that has happened in the past few months with be something he will not be willing to discuss with you; he made it clear when he walked through the door. Don’t push him on it.

When your foot hits the last step, you nod to yourself as you consider what you would do if he did want to talk to you about it. If he wants to talk to you about it, then you rejoice in his openness. But it isn’t necessary for him to have your undying support. No matter what he decides, ultimately, your heart is never going to fail on him.

Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips.

Mum <3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx

Begrudgingly, you stare down at the message before looking at the bedroom door. From beyond it, you can hear the running water in the shower and all you can think about is him. So, with a deep breath, you look back down at your phone and begin to type.

From ‘me’: Slight change of plans but I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it there tomorrow. Simon’s just got home and he’s not good. Don’t think socialising is what he needs right now. Sorry, I love you xx

Choosing has never been easy, yet, when you pushed open the bedroom door and saw his clothes sitting on the bed the pair of you share, you decide that that choice was the easiest one you have ever made in your life. It isn’t a sacrifice when it is necessary. At least, not when it comes to Simon at least.

‘I’m not going home tomorrow,’ you tell him when he walks out of the bathroom. Part of you feels bad for bombarding him with something as soon as he walks out, but the affirming text from your mother causes your heart to swell, and when you see him again, it bursts. His hair is damp and he pulls his face out of the towel with a surprised look. His scarred cheeks are branded with a subtle red tinge from the heat exuding from the bathroom. The heat works well to melt his features just enough for him to mould them into a dissatisfied sneer. ‘I don’t wanna fight you on this, Si.’

‘You can’t cancel on your family,’ he says, approaching his dresser. ‘Not right. I don’t want you to do that for me,’ he continues, grabbing a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. ‘Go spend time with them, am fine here.’

‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.

Oddly, you request of not fighting on it seemingly works as he looks over his shoulder at you. There is simply no fight left in Simon Riley anymore, you conclude it from the way he shrinks as he exhales, padding up to the bed. It was as though he had left the house as a grenade left the hands of a soldier. Upon his return, the body of what made him him: his danger, his determination, and his strength had all been lost and you find he has been reduced to the pin pulled from the grenade.

Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.

Pulling the edge of the duvet, you pat the side of the mattress, ‘c’mon,’ you say gently. He doesn’t wait to climb into bed beside you, resting his weary head against the pillow. It’s as though someone is pressing down on his chest as he heaves a sound unlike anything you have ever heard. Exhaustion was clear, but grief was easier to identify in his eyes. Leaning over, you turn the lamp on your beside off, trying your attention to him, lying on his side.

There’s nothing to say. Not to him, not for him, not for yourself. You just lay there and stare at him hoping something will come to you. Anything said will be a bittersweet lullaby, you’re convinced. Nothing is going to put him to sleep. ‘Your minds running; faster than mine, sweetheart,’ he says. His eyes are closed when you look at his face. ‘Don’t want you doin’ stupid things ‘cause of me.’

‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.

At this point, you heart is racing, your tongue tangled as you contemplate every single word on the edge of your tongue. ‘Mum said she’ll bring us dinner tomorrow,’ you say with a weak smile, debating on whether or not you should spoil the surprise. ‘We can eat it and watch something… if you want to.’

‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.

‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’

He’s quiet for a while, almost as though he doesn’t even want to think about what day it is. December 24th. Christmas Eve. You’re unsure how exactly the holidays work in 141, only noting that he had been away a few times during Christmas. Oddly, this is one of the first ones he’s home with you. His second Christmas since knowing Johnny that he isn’t with him. Your heart weakens at the realisation, your brain cursing you with the knowledge of something so agonising.

They had spent Christmas together.

And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.

Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.

Your eyes well with tears and you close them. Your heart hurts for the man lying in front of you, and when you hear him clear his throat, you find it difficult to contain your own sorrow. ‘Doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ he tells you, his voice trembling as he does. ‘Haven’t slept at all since ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him just… lyin’ there,’ his throat tightens and his tone grows pitchy as he inhales deeply, swallowing hard. ‘I shoulda done something, I should’ve been there f’r him.’

He’s crying at that point, but not sobbing. In fact, you only know he's crying because, when you place your hand against his cheek and the pad of your thumb wiped away a tear that falls past his eye. ‘You were,’ you choke out, ‘even in death, you were loyal to him, Si’, don’t you dare go cursing your own name for something you were not responsible for,’ you demand. ‘You’ll get him.’

‘We’re fallin’ apart without him,’ Simon sniffles, ‘bet he’s sitting up there pissin’ himself seeing me like this,’ he utters. The pair of you share a laugh at the thought and you move close to him. ‘I just… I told myself after everything that happened to mum and Tommy, I wouldn’t feel anything ‘cause that fucked me up, but then I met Johnny a- and I met you.’

You hold your breath.

‘Simon—‘

‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘

‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’

You press your thumb against his cheek, ‘doubt is a killer, and it’s not me who you’re not gonna be able to protect if you keep thinking the way you are, it’s yourself,’ you continue, licking your dry lips, ‘and… and if you die, then who’s gonna steal the pigs-and-blankets on Christmas Day?’

Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows.

Two goldfish are in a tank…

‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you.

‘Always,’ you respond, ‘mums got them with the dinner tomorrow ‘cause I asked her too… said she got extra incase you planned on robbing any of them.’ You feel bad telling him such information knowing that you had chosen to cancel the holiday. If anything, you’re worried about the guilt you’re causing him by rambling on about the stupid fucking pigs-in-blankets. ‘My point is Si’,’ you take a deep breath, ‘I need you here with me so you can fulfil your duty.’

He shifts and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. Your hand brushes through his hair, melting in his arms as his hot breath fans against your neck. ‘Wanna see your family tomorrow,’ he says, ‘I’ll go with you.’

‘Are you sure—‘

‘’Ave been stuck in my mind for nearly two months,’ he confesses, pulling away from your neck. ‘Fighting with myself over everything, I’ve hardly spoken to Price or Gaz,' he says. You press your lips together, the thought of him being alone nauseating. ‘Be a waste of money as well if I didn’t try pinching the food your mums made, wouldn’t it?’

You feel him smile as he presses his face back against your neck, his grip on you so tight its almost painful. But you relent, allowing him to have the comfort he so deserves. Resting your head above his, you close your. Whatever awaited you in the future can wait, you conclude.

‘I'm proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'

He smiles again.

'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'

With that, the pair of you fall into silence. You don't sleep, not until you feel his breathing steady against you skin, the subtle rise of his chest as he keeps his arms around you. You keep running you fingers through his hair before eventually, you find your eyes growing heavy and you drift off.

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thedensworld · 6 months

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Welcome to Densworld🌼

Masterlist

His wife suddenly went missing. There are two possibilities, his best friend has hid her from him or she literally left him.

1. Found You | Choi Seungcheol

2. Lover Series | Kim Mingyu

Mingyu's love life has became more interesting since you came

3. On Scene | Yoon Jeonghan

Yoon Jeonghan, once a dedicated police officer, finds himself embroiled in a web of corruption and is subsequently transferred to a unit that is shunned by his colleagues. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any more complicated, a murder case emerges, and it appears to be connected to his ex-girlfriend.

4. Healing Hues | Jeon Wonwoo

Exhausted by the monotony of his life as a celebrity, Wonwoo makes a pivotal decision to return to his childhood hometown and embark on a heartwarming project: building a small library named 'Healing Hues.' Little does he know, this journey will lead to a series of unexpected and transformative events.

5. To The Rescue | Jeon Wonwoo

Eight years had passed since you and Wonwoo last worked together, but fate had other plans. The case you thought was behind you resurfaced, pulling you back into the world you thought you'd left behind.

6. Doesn't Mind At All | Hong Jisoo

Joshua willingly agrees to pick up his boss's daughter from school, not realizing that this simple task would lead to an unexpected encounter with his longtime crush.

7. Sweet Macaroons | Choi Seungcheol

Seungcheol was far from pleased when a food critic posted a negative review that started to impact your sales. He couldn't stand to see you upset.

8. Mind Date | Hong Jisoo

Joshua has the power of mind control, enabling him to get anything he wants by influencing people's minds. Suddenly, he meets you, someone he can't control at all.

9. Even When We're Drown, We're Still Breathing | Kim Mingyu

Mingyu was missing the spotlight he used to have, so he decided to accept the offer to shoot a reality show about marriage life and parenting. However, his wife was in a different situation.

10. Don't Touch Mine | Yoon Jeonghan

Jeonghan had hid his feelings for you, but he had been in denial. Then, an unexpected event occurred, and everything changed.

11. Post-Magazine | Kim Mingyu

It was an honor for Mingyu to collaborate with a well-known magazine. But this job made him realize that love at first sight is real.

12. Where to Sign? | Choi Seungcheol

Seungcheol is about to sign the pre when you said this thing to him

13. Guilty Flower | Choi Seungcheol

Seungcheol accepted his mother offer to meet you, his potential future wife said his mother, without knowing what kind of person you are.

14. Naming is Fun | Kim Mingyu

Mingyu knows that you are his laugh button, but he can't believe your suggestion over the baby name.

15. Now You're Safe With Me | Choi Seungcheol

Seungcheol received several missed calls from you, and he knew they weren't just regular phone calls.

16. Forever His | Choi Seungcheol

You found out that Seungcheol was marrying you for your property and wealth while you're pregnant with his child. What would you do? Let him go or play a fool?

17. Piece of Origami | Kim Mingyu

you have no idea that you're this untalented in making a paper fold—origami until your kid ask you to make one

18. What A Fate | Yoon Jeonghan

Who would have thought your next meeting after having a one-night stand would be this unexpected?

19. Perfect Pairing | Choi Seungcheol

Mafia Seungcheol has to face a fact that he found his bestfriend's long-searched sister. However she is a NIS agent who was ordered to terminate him.

20. What a Sweep | Choi Seungcheol

Seungcheol brimmed with excitement as he prepared to teach you some Jiu-Jitsu moves, little did he knows, you would nearly send him into a heart attack.

21. Ten Years | Jeon Wonwoo

In hospital Wonwoo is a doctor, and back to house he is your husband. However, your sudden conditions make him choose.

22. Everything | Choi Seungcheol

You come to him in the middle of the night, plan to end him immediately. However everything change.

23. What A Revenge | Yoon Jeonghan (Part 2 of What A Fate)

After an unexpected rendezvous after a one night stand, Jeonghan asked Mingyu to set him up with you. However you had a different situation and it's getting complicated.

24. Falling Flower | Kim Mingyu

Mingyu never thought that he would find Y/n, his friend's secretary, attractive. What's started from eyes, physical, has fallen to his heart. As he tries to get to know you, he realizes he knew nothing about you.

25. Rewind Button | Jeon Wonwoo

If Wonwoo had a time machine, he would definitely go to crash your wedding.

26. Flower Bloomed | Kim Mingyu (Part 2 of Falling Flower)

It's been a year since Mingyu and you were married. Once united by a good feeling, has started to scatter, both you and Mingyu couldn't find reason to stay together.

27. Your Best Man | Jeon Wonwoo

Wonwoo has tried his best to become the best man you've ever met. At the end, he is the best man.

28. Stupid Cupid | Kim Mingyu

You must be the reason why he's been nervous for tonight's event. There must be something that Cupid has been doing.

30. Hold On Tight | Yoon Jeonghan (Part 3 of What a Fate)

What's started for a revenge and status has developed into something Jeonghan couldn't comprehend. He unconsciously were willing to do anything and it was only for you.

31. Alone At Night | Kim Mingyu

Mingyu has no idea until he had to sleepover in your house because of the rain. In fact, it hurts him.

To be continued ;)

e n j o y, joy! -dk

#densworld🌼#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen fic #seventeen #seventeen carat #seventeen au #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fluff #seventeen headcanons #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you

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angelicglib · 4 months

Text

‧₊✩ Christmas Comfort ✩₊‧

[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 (REPOSTED: 28/12/23)

[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3,252

[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)

[ᴀ/ɴ]: This is my first story here, please be kind I beg <3 also very sorry for this but I had the idea and thought it would be quite a bittersweet story for the holiday season !!

THIS IS A REPOST !! I've had few issues with shadowbans and have moved accounts a few times (tumblr thought I was a bot) so, if you would like more stories from me, my new blog is @manicrouge !!

─────────── ∘°❉°∘ ───────────

Christmas this year is going to be tough.

You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve.

Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.

You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.

Of course, you would never say that to his face.

If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.

He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better.

Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.

‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’

‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.

‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’

‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’

‘Soundly, Lt.’

‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.

‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.

All of it can wait. But he can’t.

Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips.

Mum <3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx

‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.

Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.

‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.

‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.

‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’

They had spent Christmas together.

And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.

Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.

You hold your breath.

‘Simon—‘

‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘

‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’

Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows.

Two goldfish are in a tank…

‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you.

‘Are you sure—‘

‘I proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'

He smiles again.

'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'

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bimbosandbubbles · 1 year

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❀⤷Summer Frights!

Summertime Slashers m.list here

Starring Yandere Ghostface Josuke and Okuyasu

Synopsis-Your anxiety raises high when there’s been a slew of murders around your small town,rumored to be a copycat Ghostface terrorizing the town. Soon though your anxiety raises even higher when one night the Ghostface gives you a call around midnight.

Warning’s-murder,descriptive gore,dub con,non con,phone sex,multiple sex scenes,knife play,anxiety,heavy degrading,vulgar words,breeding,double penetration(oral and vaginal), mask kink,praising,pet names,unhealthy obsessive behavior,photos taken without consent,video taken without verbal consent, pussy eating, bondage,blood,biting,yandere,dacryphilia,humiliation,fear play,mentions of boxing Okuyasu and Med student Josuke.NOT PROOFREAD

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ AND UP! MINORS DONT INTERACT!

Word count-10.8k/10,891(First fic and I went overboard)

A shaky breath falls from your lips, a apparent sign of the inner turmoil you feel inside. You thought that this wouldn't happen anymore..That this couldn't happen in your city. That the ever looming presence of death couldn't haunt you so early into your life..you're only a freshman college student,barely graduated from a small high school in Morioh. Why here? Why peaceful little Morioh? Why did a dumb copy cat of a serial kill have to terrorize this quaint town?

And why did you let the thought of Ghostface morning haunt your nightmares? They were everywhere! In the morning when you woke up,they were your very first thought. When you showered,you constantly wondered if they would be stalking from behind the curtains,waiting to mangle and mane your soft body. When you walked from class, you imagined the killer in black being anyone.

Like this very moment right now. You imagine the seemingly kind house wife who just waved at you secretly using one her kitchen knives to kill the poor victim you read about in a news article posted a mere week ago. A victim you considered an acquaintance before his untimely death. You had known him from high school simply because he did something completely unexpected to someone who looks like you. He had confessed,poured out his pure and untainted feelings for you. However,you didn't feel the same and gently rejected him,making sure to still encourage him to stay sweet like the way he was. Over the years the two of you only shared small hello's or encouragements for the future.

But now..he had no more future. For,he was dead,mutilated and found with ripped pages of fat fetish pornos in his emptied stomach that was bare of any bodily organ. The thought of his suffering throughout the ordeal made your skin crawl in fear. Was he screaming for help? Was he begging anyone from the closest proximity to stop his death? Most of all,did he plead for the killers not to hurt him,to spare him?

And because of those bothersome thoughts you couldn't help but think that anyone is guilty for such a sick crime. Every step you take,you look around your once peaceful route to home,wondering if one of these seemingly normal people murdered someone without remorse. The houses you once stared at in calmness and familiarity were now morphed into murder houses. Houses,owned by killers that could be waiting to torture their next victim in utter bloodlust. Nowhere and no one were considered safe to anymore.

You grip your book bag tighter to your shoulder,holding the cool leather material closer to your side. The baby blue sundress you're adorning being softly tugged by refreshing summer wind. The sensation being a reliever to your anxiety induced sweat. Which reminds you that it's really summer now. That you should be happy because you just left your last class of the semester and that you won't have to worry about class for three whole months. However,despite the beautiful sun beaming down at you paired with the perfect breeze you can't help but feel so gloomy inside. How could anyone be happy when someone was just murdered only a week ago? How could anyone be happy when your acquaintance was already the 5th victim of a copy cat serial killer?

Immediately your morbid thoughts are shooed away by a loud booming voice. "Oi,(Reader)! How can ya leave without saying goodbye?" You snap your head back,not being able to fight how a toothy smile once you see your goofy friend. " 'Yasu,I'm sorry! I was in a rush!" Your once eager feet stopped walking to allow the male to catch up with you. Though it's not like he needed you to stop,the man is fit,years of working out and boxing shaping his athletic body. Just as soon as he called out from a distance he's already stooped next you.

"So you were in a rush?" His raspy voice asks. "Mhm I was,I'm just kinda pent and wound up from school and.." You don't have the heart to finish what you were gonna say. But it doesn't seem like you need to because Okuyasu finishes it for you,"The murders." You find Okuyasu's bluntness is nice,because at least something is straightforward to you in this mystery of a murderer or murderers.

"Yeah. It's been kinda umm..scary for me at least." Okuyasu nods as he puts his long muscled arm around your meaty shoulder. "They got me feeling on the fence a little too,especially that last guy. I mean porno mags stuffed in there? Plus them being that weird feeding shit,the guy must've been a real sick pervert." Okuyasu says nonchalantly,as he massages the flesh on right shoulder.

You can't help but think that that's why he had confessed to you before. Because you were a fetish to him,something he got off to and that's it. Now that Okuyasu pointed that out to you can't help but feel a little less empathetic towards the victim now. Disgusting. "Yeah,that's weird." You dryly add. "But umm what'd you chase after me for? I know you didn't just come here to scold me for leaving so soon." Okuyasu's eye's widen like he's barely recalled something. "Right! Umm Josuke and I wanted to invite to a little party at the beach! It'll only be us and a few other friends."

At that,your smile slightly falters. The thought of going to a party with a serial killer on the loose scared you. "Umm Yasu I'm not sure..I just wanna stay home at the moment." Okuyasu already looks at you with pleading black eyes,"C'mon (Reader), we haven't hanged out in forever. Josuke gets ya all the time cause he goes to a stupid university with ya. So please,won't ya just go with us?"

You chuckle," 'Yasu the boxing gym is right by the university,I always talk to you for like 15 minutes a day before and after class." He whines,"But today ya didn't say goodbye,Josuke got you forgetting all about me. That's why you gotta go to this party!" You find his needy behavior cute—almost endearing so you humor him. "Hmm..maybe I'll go. But if I don't go then why don't you and Josuke come over after the party? Just knock on the door and I'll let you in." Okuyasu pouts before speaking,"But what if ya’re sleepin?" You smile at him as you touch the hand he has resting on your shoulder," I won't be,trust me." Technically your promise wasn't empty,ever since the murders you've been having a hard time sleeping.

"Got ya! That sounds good. But I gotta go Josuke's waiting for me with his fancy ass car." He moves his hand to let go of your shoulder but he's met with your pudgy hand gripping it to your flesh harder. "Wait,can you walk me home please Yasu? I feel safer with you around." It's true,the man's positive energy managed to make you briefly forget your dark thoughts earlier.

He stares at you in thought,looking at your needy expression. It's almost like he visibly melted at your words and expression. "Yeah I'll getcha home! Lemme just call Josuke so he knows." Okuyasu pulls out his cracked phone and quickly calls Josuke,"Yo bro,(Reader) wants me to walk her home so just pick me up in the front of her house. Alright bye." He stuffs his phone back into his pocket and tightens his arm he has draped over you.

"Thanks 'Yasu." You kindly remark. " 'Course gotta keep my girl safe." You brush off the usage of "my girl" due to the fact that Josuke and him use it only in reference of how protective they are of you cause of the years long friendship the three of you share. At least that's what you think,right? It couldn't be used romantically,not when Okuyasu and Josuke got new girls on their arms most of the time. However the thought of being Okuyasu's or Josuke's girl..or both is something you find yourself frequently fantasizing about. But that's just silly,dreamful thinking.

The two of you start walking and talking. Conversation flows easily with Okuyasu,it always does. It does too with Josuke but Okuyasu somehow always eases you. He's your comforter,he always has been.

"Welp this is my stop." Okuyasu's voice says. You nod sadly,not wanting to say goodbye so soon to your living comfort. " 'Suke's not here yet,why don't you come inside until he shows up?" Okuyasu doesn't even think before he exclaims,"Yes!" You giggle at his enthusiasm,unlocking the door as you do so.

You enter and Okuyasu does the same behind you,making sure to close and lock the door.

"So are you hungry?" He smiles widely,"I always am!" You smile,"Yes you are! I got some spaghetti and meatballs if that's what you want."

"Yes, I love Italian food! I'll eat whatever you got left if ya let me!" You scrunch your brows in mock thought,"Okay,I'll let you have the whole container." He makes a noise of celebration as he follows you to the kitchen.

The pair of you walk into the kitchen smiling and chuckling, though your happy demeanor falters once you see the sink filled to the brim with dishes. " 'Yasu you can get the food from the fridge,I got to work on the dishes." Okuyasu nods with no hesitation as he rushes to the fridge. You grab an apron that Okuyasu had given you for a birthday years ago with a cringy motto that reads,"A dolla will make ya holla!"

Once he find the spaghetti he puts it in the microwave and he smiles gleefully once he sees you putting the apron on to wash the dishes. "Ya still kept that old thing?" You nod,"Yeah,it's my favorite." You don't miss the small blush that paints his cheeks when you remark that it's your favorite. "Good,it looks great on ya." You smile and turn to make soapy water for the seemingly never ending pile of dishes you had to wash.

Okuyasu’s food is finished in the microwave the moment the beep is heard. He grabs his food and sits down on a chair by the island. You turn your back to him once the water is done and start washing dishes. "Do ya normally wear a apron when ya do the dishes?" You answer back,"No,just when I'm wearing something like a dress or something I like a lot." He hums in thought before you hear him messily slurp and devour the spaghetti.

He swallows before hitting you with another question,"So where are your parents? They're usually home by now." You scrub off a nasty dish while replying,"Umm well I kinda own the house now. Since the beginning of summer,they left and said I had the house to myself. I don't think they'll be back for a few more months. They said that since I'm a college student I deserve my own private space and used that as an excuse to finally travel,not that I mind of course,they deserve that break."

"So ya're alone for a few months?" Okuyasu asks. "Yeah I am." You confirm once more. "Then me and Josuke should come over more often." He quickly says. "And Koichi and his little girlfriend too." He makes sure to add. "Yeah,I could definitely use the company in that case." You warmly welcome the idea. Not only so you're not experiencing isolation but also so you won't make yourself a easy target for the killer.

There's a few minutes of silence—comfortable minutes ,one's where you just hear clanging of the dishes occasionally and your dear friend excitedly devouring the food you've made. You've grown so accustomed to the silence that you can't stop the shocked gasp that falls from your lips once you feel a big calloused hand placed on your wide waist. "That was yummy,thank ya (Reader)." He doesn't bother to move his heavy hand once he hears the little gasp instead he tightens his grasp on your squishy waist.

"O-Oh you're welcome 'Yasu. It's a thank you for walking me home." He smiles,"No need to thank me. Like I said I gotta take care of my girl." He emphasizes his words when starts tracing small circles onto the cotton fabric of your dress. "This is real pretty,"he pinches the material of the dress,"Looks really cute on ya. But you always look real cute." Suddenly nothing else matters,not the dishes,not the fact that Josuke's coming soon,not even the murder that's roaming Morioh,all that matters right now is Okuyasu's touch.

You lean into his touch,"Thanks 'Yasu." Your words come out breathlessly. He hums in acknowledgement,his now two hands becoming his main focus. He squeezes the abundant flesh of your tummy that's hidden by your dress. "Ya're so damn soft." You can't help but let out a small whine at his gentle yet rough actions.

He leans against your back pushing his extremely tall frame against yours,black eyes leering at you. "Thank you 'Yasu." You can't help the awkward and repetitive response,not used to your friend behaving this way with you. Sure,he was flirty with you before but never this upfront with you. His touch advances,inching further up to your slightly exposed cleavage. " 'Y-Yasu.?" You can't help the panicked question. What is he gonna reach for?

"Yeah?" The grumble of his voice sounds erotic,almost like he's turned on right now. "What're you doing?" The question you asked held no malicious harm instead just innocent wonder. That must've snapped out of his daze. "I'm just trynna give ya hug,Josuke's gonna be outside soon so I'm saying a early goodbye." With that his big arms wrap around the whole expanse of your plush middle,his hard rock chest molds against your roll adorned back.

He leans down to give you a wet kiss on your neck,which makes you let out a shocked whine. " 'Yasu!" You exclaimed in embarrassment. "What?" He asks cluelessly. "You can't kiss me without telling me! It's embarrassing!" He smiles,"Yeah? Well Imma kiss you." He kisses your neck again,the attention on your sensitive neck making you giggle.

You slightly push his head away,"Now you know what to do if you wanna kiss me." He hums in acknowledgement. Soon a honk rings out from the front of your house. "Gotta go! Josuke's out front." He let's go of you which leaves you missing his warm touch.

" 'Kay say hi to him for me! See ya later 'Yasu." The male nods and rushes to the front door,the door slamming as he leaves. You leave the kitchen once he's gone to make sure to lock the door. And slowly you trudge back to the kitchen,"Time to do the dishes again."

☠︎

To say the least you were beat after doing the dishes. It's such a easy labor required task however you dread it. But it's not only dirty cups or plates draining you,it's the constant anxiety you feel deep down. Plus the way Okuyasu was behaving with you was different..It made you question so many things. However,the energy for being thoughtful and curious was sucking up too much from you.

You had to take a nap,just a short one. You just need to catch up with your sleep. You wander to find your phone so you can put it on silent and not be bothered with the outside world right now. Surely,you find it and set it to silent,placing it on the coffee table next to the couch that you plop on.

You lay down and curl up like a baby. Sleep,you tell yourself. Go to sleep. Though you craved a nap,you knew that a nightmare might come to haunt your only escape from reality. You haven't been having them too often but when they came,they'd be terrifying.

You forcibly shut your eyes and just relax. Soon enough you find everything leaving,all that is here is just a dreamless peaceful abyss.

However peace can never last long when death is afoot. You wake up with a start,gasping for air and clenching your poor couch cushions in fear. Eventually though,you're able to calm down. You sit up and reach for your phone to look at the time. The screen glare's at you as your eyes struggle to adapt to the light,"12:00 am. How long was I out for?" As soon as you voice your confusion. You see your phone alert you that a unknown caller is calling. You do what everyone else does when they see an unknown caller alert— decline.

"I'm hungry as hell." You mutter. You get up and stretch,letting out an almost pornagraphic moan. Your attention is taken off stretching the moment you see your phone violently shaking. You roll your eyes in annoyance. Who the hell is this persistent? You grab your phone and instantly your annoyed attitude morphs into one of fear.

Ten texts and multiple missed calls decorate your lock screen. They read threats like,"Answer the phone slut!" Or "I'll fucking murder you if you don't answer right now." Your breathing quickens,"What the hell should I do?" You thought of calling the cops but immediately you think about the original ghost face killings. Ghost face was always near by when he made calls so..that means the killers might be very close to you. But this might be just sick prank call,right?

So you do the not so smart thing and try to survive instead. Hurriedly you call the number and find yourself met with the taunting ring of the phone. Finally,an alarmingly deep voice speaks on the other end of the line. "Imma make this simple for you. Start rubbing your pussy right now."

Your breath takes a pause in your throat. Did you hear that right? "W-What?" You ask. "I said start rubbing your pussy now. Don't be a disobedient slut." For some reason a bit of fear leaves you,being replaced with courage. "No." You state. The voice chuckles,"No? What,now you want to act all brave? I know that you tremble in fear every time you hear about what we’ve done in the news. So don't act all confident with me and just rub your pussy like a good slut."

You gasp in amazed fear. This was—it couldn't

be—Ghostface themselves or himself. The voice chuckles once more at your shocked display. "Aww you're so cute but you're so dumb! That's why I need you to rub your pretty little cunt for me,it's the only thing your little dumb brain can handle."

With a uneven breath you ask,"Do you want me to umm..get naked?" You could hear a smug smile once he replies,"Good girl! You're learning how to please me. Yes,I want you to get naked and I want you right in front of that window you got in front of the coffee table. I want you to have your legs spread completely wide with your back against the table,I wanna see ya just like that,got it?" See you? He could see you? The thought alone makes your blood run cold.

"I expect an answer every time I say something. Do you understand me?" You quickly cough up a small yes. "Good,now hurry up and undress." You couldn't believe you found yourself submitting so easily to a killer—a perverted killer who's getting off to your garnered fear of them. It makes you so angry—so enraged yet you found yourself obeying like some obedient pup all because of fear. Such a coward—such a pussy you are right now. However you can't bring yourself to scold your submissive actions any harder because absolute terror is overruling the anger your feel.

And that's how you find yourself bare of any clothing,nude and vulnerable for the eyes of a sick fuck. Your baby blue dress stays by your feet,a visual reminder of your embarrassing submission . A low groan is heard through the phone , a groan that sounds so lustful it has you curling into yourself. "Fuckkkk,you're so perfect. You're so fucking gorgeous. Spin for me,I want to see all of you." The demand leaves no room for arguments so you shyly—albeit awkwardly you do a little turn hurriedly . "Mmm,my perfect girl. Do another spin for me,slowly this time. I wanna look at what I own."

You obey his command once more,dying of humiliation the longer each turn took. What's worse is you don't know where he's looking from. Is he in the front of the window? Is he in a tree up above? You don't even know if it's just a he,it could be a them—the murderous duo who's now personally terrorizing you. "Good girl,now put the phone on ya table and put me on speaker. Now spread your legs for me like a good girl."

Once again you find yourself obeying him to the exact T. As you bend down to place your back against the table you wonder why he's doing this to you? Why you? Why your town? Why poor little Morioh?

You feel the cool wood make contact with the rolls that adorn your soft back. A little whimper leaving your insanely chapped lips once the cold table touches you. "Mmm,good girl,"he practically purrs,"Now I don't want you to start rubbin just yet. Play with those pretty tits,yeah?" The phasing of his last sentence made you queasy because of the sheer audacity to make that sound like a question when at it's core it's a order. A order that reminds you of your fear.

Your fingers slightly tease your blooming bud—the cool air teasing your nipple away from it's natural softness. It feels nice—good so good that you almost forget why you're doing this. Your other hand squeezes the stretch mark decorated breast on the side closest to your heart. The warm,gentle attention riles out a small moan from your mouth.

The man on phone coos to you,celebrating the obedience he didn't have to fight you on. "You're so gorgeous! So glad you're such a good girl for me and I didn't have to hurt your perfect body! My smart girl knows what's best for her,huh?"

You hum a response,too focused on the task that's melting in your hands. Your breast continues to be meddle with,each massaging motion feeling better than the last.

Somehow his already deep voice reaches a lower octave,"Stop. Start playin with your pussy." Lust oozes from the speaker. Untouched,evil desire is all you heard come out of him at this moment. Is that why he's doing to you? Lust? To own your body with the leash of fear he has snug around your neck? What a sick pervert.

You reach down,inching away from your sweaty chest—touching the wet arousal you're disgusted to have formed. You could call it a natural bodily reaction to the fondling your breasts received but you know—you know that his degrading praise had a hand in the layer of moisture that built up on your pussy.

Your fingers clip onto your aching clit,a rubbing motion starting on from there. Rub,rub,rub, and rub is all you can think about—your pleasure,the promise of cumming is what you deserve for being forced to put on a show for a murderer. "Atta girl,keep rubbin. Your pussy looks so pretty,doll! Fuck,just wanna stuff my face in there. Would ya like me to eat you out,huh,sweet thing?" His words are slightly labored this time,an almost groany tone releasing from his lips.

"Mhm!" Is all you mutter. A short answer,yet just the answer that the serial killer needed to hear. "Yeah? Want me to suck on that fuckin pretty clit? Want me to force my face in between those thick ass thighs? Yeah—shit,wanna have you on my face—don't wanna fuckin breath until you cum all over my face." His groans—oh my god his groans, your could feel your needy cunt clench around nothing. He sounded so good,so wanton,so needy! But you can't enjoy his sounds,not when he's taunting you like this—not when he and his partner murdered five innocent people!

But what if you just let yourself indulge for a second? Just a quick second and then you could go back to quivering in fear. Oh please—oh please just a moment to get pleasure from his desire of you. "Hmmph—Shit all I can think about is your cute ass sittin on ma face. I'll eat your pretty little cunt for days! Fuck—Fuck—put ya fingers inside! Wann' see your pussy stretched out."

You don't question the command—two fingers sink into your clamping hole. A keen frees itself from your gasping throat. Feels so good! Feels so good to have something inside,something to distract your empty pussy. You start making a up and down motion,each movement making contact with your warm sensitive walls.

"Ah—feels good!" You babble. It's embarrassing—demeaning how easily you gave into him—the pleasure he gives has you oh so sensitive. "Yeah,baby? Ya cunt feel good?" You furiously nod your head,knowing that verbal responses weren't the only thing he'd understand. He's watching you after all.

"Shit, you're so good for me! Ma lil slut—my good fuckin cock whore! Fuck—wish I could be in ya instead of your little ass fingers, I could make ya feel so much better—stretch ya out real nice and good,have ya screaming fa' me and scratching my back. Wouldn't I,baby?" You almost choke on your moans when you force out a response. " Y-You would! You'd mmm—make me scream!"

"Shitttt...keep talkin like that,sweet thing. Wanna replace your fingers so fuckin badly now—gonna make sure your little cunt is a cum dump once I'm done with ya! Gonna bred ya and ruin ya for anybody else—shit—fuck yourself harder right now."

You oblige and start reaching — wiggling fingers inching deeper for that wonderfully good spot. You feel so close if only you could find that small mushy spot that would make you see stars.

Almost like he could read your body language perfectly he says,"Ya're close aren't you? Ya gonna cum soon? Fuck—me too! Gonna cum—wanna cum with ya! Shit—need ya to cum now."

Almost like some magic word you find that special spot and a pathetic mewl comes out of your mouth. Your back arches out,the position forcing out your plentiful tummy out even more.

You huff and huff an attempt to catch your lost breath. The man has became silent, any sign of him being present is gone.

The air is only full of the smell of your sex and your constant puffs. Finally, he speaks up again,"Ya did a good job,sweet thing! Call ya tomorrow at the same time." With that he leaves you to sit in silence accompanied by the constant blaring reminder of his quick exit.

Your mouth gapes open,"What the fuck just happened?"

☠︎☠︎

"(Readerrrr), ya there?" Josuke calls out. His concerned diamond blue eyes pour into yours. Your body flinches at the sound of your friend's deep voice. "Y-Yeah,just a little shaken up." You reply. Smoothly Josuke's sleeveless arms round your shoulders and coddles you closer to his chest. "Ya? Did ya have a nightmare before we got here?"

You accept his affection gesture—leaning in and pushing your pudgy cheek into his chiseled pecs. "Why didn't you tell me and Okuyasu,we could've taken care of ya way earlier." Chiding with him,Okuyasu pipes out,"Yeah! You can tell us anythin. We got ya back."

The thought of spilling your guts and telling them whatever happened only an hour ago crosses your mind—it's brief because you realize it's stupid. No way you'd put any of your friends in danger involving the terrorizers of Morioh. That's right—it's only been a hour since the call,only an an hour since you've dirtily indulged into his demands. But no—enjoying it meant they'd win and you can't let them have anymore power over you.

A part of you wonders what if? What if Josuke and Okuyasu came just at the stroke of midnight? Would they have been able to protect you from the murderers? But that what if is a distant reality—the real reality being is that your favorite duo showed up at your doorstep with snacks in hand and bright smiles. Stories of Koichi being forced into a embarrassing bathing suit by Yukako and Rohan screaming Josuke's head off when he buried him in the sand while he was sleeping on beach were exchanged with you.

Stories that kept the air light and distractive until the three of you sat on the couch to watch a movie. The polite custom of staying silent during a movie was driving you crazy,the silence leaving too much space in your head to think about what occurred.

You place a fake smile onto your lips," Thanks you guys but really I'm fine,I promise." To add weight to your adds you further snuggle into Josuke's chest and reach for Okuyasu's mangled hand,to which he gratefully accepts by gripping your hands in a no escape hold. "If ya say so." Okuyasu says. Josuke gives an annoyed look towards the unaware male,one that you've learned means that Okuyasu didn't say the right thing or he said something dumb. "What Okuyasu meant to say is if you want us to stay the night or just stay away longer?"

At first,the instinctual answer was no—strictly because you don't want to cause them too much trouble. Josuke constantly takes you places in his car because you're too fearful of the bus or walking too far away from home. Okuyasu was a already like a guard dog before the murders,but now he constantly wants to stick to you like glue no matter where you go. Of course there's exceptions of this happening like today but majority of the time that's what happens.

However,that first move to say no is gone out the window once they start touching you. Josuke starts thumbing at your back,creating soothing patterns all over the the hot skin. Okuyasu's big veiny hands are twiddling with your fingers like you're some dainty little thing to him. The touches feel good—comforting,making your poor little stressed mind let go.

"Okay." You mumble. "Yeah?" Josuke confirms. "Mhm." You hum into his chest. "Hell yeah! We haven't stayed over in forever!" Okuyasu exclaims. "Are we gonna sleep in your room?" The blunt man asks. Now that he's mentioned it,you're not sure where they should sleep. The suggestion of your room didn't really concern you all that much. After all these are your friends so won't do anything strange,right?

Sure,they are 6'1 and 6'4 men who's body weight mostly consist of pure hard earned muscle but besides that the thought of them sleeping in a room shared with you isn't really intimidating at all. In fact,it comforts you knowing that they're going to be with you in your room. You know you'd have incoming nightmares or a sleepless night ahead caused by that call,so two friends that happen to be men and very attractive are just doing what good friends do.

"Of course, you're gonna sleep in my room,silly! It wouldn't be a sleep over if you weren't." You happily exclaim. "Yeah!" Okuyasu leans over you to give Josuke a type of handshake that you don't even bother to look at. It fills you with glee to see the two of them so ecstatic to be staying with you. However,the feeling of glee doesn't overcome the impending sleepiness you start to feel.

"I think I should start setting up the bed for us." You state. Josuke's brow perks up in a inquisitively,"Us?" A rush of flustered heat floods through your body for the assumption that three of you would share your bed. You feel so comfortable with them it merely slipped out. "Um—I mean it's just cause I have pretty big bed and they'll be plenty of space for you two but I realize how silly that is now. Just forget it I'll

get—

"No,No! That's perfect, me and Oku' won't mind at all. You're our friend after all." You catch many nice things about his interrupting sentence,especially the way his honeyed tongue says "our " with almost a possessive gripe. You brush over it though, no matter how odd it sounded—instead you choose to favor his laxness about sharing a bed with you.

"Uhh well perfect! Let me just set up then and I'll call you two up to bed." You offer a marshmallowey smile before you turn from the pair and walk your way up the stairs—missing the lust glazed stares of your trusted friends directed at your teasing dimpled cheeks peeking out from your loose cotton shorts. If only you could see Josuke and Okuyasu hissing as they adjust the semi's that's grown in their jeans.

You find yourself in your room,adjusting your bed for more room and comfort. You move your stuff animals and overly big pillows,setting it on free spaces throughout the room. That's it,that's all you had to do. Yet,you weren't gonna call them up. Not yet.

You stare down at the baby blue sun dress you took off during the call that you tossed on your floor in a crying haze once the killer hung up. The dress felt like a lingering memory of what happened and what's to come. "Call you tomorrow at the same time." The words ring in your head, a consistent reminder to of your impending doom. You'd be some type of sick sexual outlet for the killer(s). And then what? Once they were done with terrorizing you with calls would they come up from a secret hiding place by your house and tally you off as another victim of theirs? The 6th victim? Or worse would they violate you—ignore your agency—the word no and pleas of reason would mean nothing to them.

And now you're here,being such a coward. Accepting their plans for you like some type of sick puppy. You make yourself sick,the thought of just surrendering makes a deep pool of raging nausea roar from the bottom of your belly. How can you be so—so easily available? You just obeyed whatever he said and when you did stand up to him you just surrendered due to the deep rooted fear of what he and his accomplice could do.

Just how weak willed how are you? Listening to a killer that demanded you to touch yourself and actually doing it! Loving the way he praised you—guiltily indulging into the desperate groans

he howled out for you. And worst of all, actually feeling your heart and clit beat with the promise of this repeating tomorrow. How sick you are.

You swallow a wad of contempt mixed with saliva before your tongue sticks out to wet your flaky lips. You call out," 'Sukeeee! 'Yasu!! You can come up now!" They heard you as soon as you said the sentence because you quickly hear the stomping up the stairs.

During the short time you throw the dress in your closet and look back in a lost daze before you slam the closet door shut. You sigh,"What am I gonna do?" You don't have much time to think about the next step before Okuyasu zooms into the door frame. He's panting—big wide chest moving up and down in a seducing rhythm. "Told ya I could beat you up the stairs Josuke!" He proudly and rather cutely says.

Not even a second later Josuke is up behind Okuyasu, Josuke's shorter frame slightly being blocked by him. It's funny how someone even as tall as Josuke looks short compared to Okuyasu. The pompadour wearing man rolls his eyes,"Yeah,Yeah meathead I know I lost." Okuyasu doesn't even bother to hide his amusement,in fact,the man can't stop laughing. "Maybe you should become a boxer like me instead of being Mr.Future Doctor. That'll get you faster."

"Yeah and risk breaking this nose?" He points to his perfectly pointed and straight nose. "No,thanks." You giggle at their interaction,"I don't know 'Yasu, Josuke's pretty built for someone who doesn't box." Okuyasu dramatically slacks his jaw,"C'monnnn he's not better than babies." Okuyasu flexes his thick arms,posing them in a abstract Y position.

You smile and lean over to touch the hard mass of muscles,chubby digits feel up his biceps. "Ooo very hard 'Yasu!" The teasing compliment flusters the tall man,making him splutter out,"Course they are! I take good care of myself! I eat real good too!" You look at him,"I know, 'Yasu. Anyone can really tell how good you take care of yourself."

Josuke chuckles this time,"Well remember Okuyasu,this future doctor takes care of all your injuries because you always spend your money

too fast and can't afford an actual hospital bill." Okuyasu whines," Man you can't use that against me,I always get my money back anyways."

"Right." Josuke remarks sarcastically. You laugh once more before disputing the whole interaction. "All right,all right you both are just great the way you but you'd be even better asleep." The both whine out an okay and drag their feet to your bed.

You slide into the middle of the soft mattress but stopping halfway though to ask,"Are you guys fine with me being in the middle?" They don't seem to mind because they simply just shake their head. You nod and finally make yourself comfy in the insulated center of the bed.

However,comfort doesn't last long when both of the males turn their handsome faces towards you. You don't fail to catch their staring eyes drinking you in. You feel a pool of nervous saliva coat your mouth," 'Suke can you turn off the light?" The male nods and leans over to switch off the lamp placed on your bedside table.

The second the lights turned off Okuyasu boldly grips wraps his big arms around the whole expanse of your rounded front—thick hard muscle grasping your wide waist in possessiveness. The actions so sudden a small gasp flees from you. " 'Yasu not so rough!" You exclaim in a flustered panic. He doesn't say anything in response,instead digging his scabbed extremities into the plushness of your pouch sitting above your pillowy hip bones and groin.

He nuzzles his face into your shoulder,instantly knocking out onto your flesh. Josuke and you share a glance of shock and amusement. You break the silence with a quiet giggle. "I forgot how easily he goes to sleep." Josuke nods,"I know right? He's just like a baby."

You smile,"Yeah,wish I could go to sleep as easily as him." Bright diamond blue eyes peer into you,analyzing your very being. An inhale of breath is heard before," How have you been holding up?" The question rings into the air,almost like you don't want to answer it. You can't tell Josuke—your protector,your friend,the guys who's ward off bullies by going in a blind rage of attack when bad things has ever been said about you—that the taunting ghost of Morioh called you to get himself off in some sick way.

He'd get only hurt and dragged into a unfolding mess. You can't do that to him! Sure,he's strong and tall,standing at 6'1 feet with some raging fighting skills. But could he take on the Ghostface? The man who mutilated a person you used to know so inhumanly. Not even to mention there's most likely two of them. No,Josuke couldn't know. For his sake.

"I've been doing okay. Just always nervous,ya know?" He hums in acknowledgment,long lashes kissing his cheek bones. His smooth yet textured fingers gently rub back and forth on a small patch of flesh of your cheek. "I know,baby. But me and Oku will take care of ya anyway you need. All you need is us,the rest of the world will just ruin ya."

You look up at him and catch his wrist in affectionate hold,your own fingers rubbing skin as well. "Mmm,I know you'll take care of me—the both of you but I just can't get this constant fear out of me. I'm so scared of them. " Josuke looks at you in thought,trying to find the right thing to say to comfort you.

"You're not their MO,they won't touch you." You find comfort in how matter factly he states it,like he's completely sure that nothing will happen to you. "I know but it's just the last victim I knew. You remember that one guy in high school who confessed to me? That was him. And it's just so hard for me to actually grasp that he's no longer here anymore."

Josuke's gentle and somber expression melts away,twisting in a disgusted one. "That guy was a creep,(Reader). He just fetishized you,like you're some type of meat. And you're not,you're the most sweetest,most beautiful,most considerate person and that fucker was probably just jerking off to ya body." You're gagged by how easily he tore into the deceased man.

"But still—" You try to speak but you're cut off with a cold cut sentence,"No,I think he got exactly what was coming to him." You stare up at the male, shocked by the discovery of just how cold and ruthless he could be. " Josuke..." you trail off. He looks at you,his angry expression fleeing from him the moment he does.

"I'm sorry I must scare ya talking like that." He stops rubbing your cheek,replacing the soothing touch with cupping it. You nod,"Yeah,I've never heard you so...cruel before." He leans closer to you,softly sighing. "I know but creeps like that just piss me off. I'm sorry, I won't talk like that in front of you again."

You peer into Josuke's pretty eyes,not missing the barely lingering murderous glint reflecting in them. It fills you with a pool of anxiety and a little drop of suspicion. But Josuke couldn't be one of the men plaguing Morioh,he loves Morioh after all! He talks about the city so beautifully—the people he loves that reside here. So naturally,you easily brush off the creeping inkling.

" It's okay,let's just not talk about it anymore." You assure as you lean into his touch. People could call it delusional or just pure ignorance to brush off someone's body and verbal language if they were acting like Josuke a few moments ago. But no,you feel in your heart that he and Okuyasu could never commit such heinous crimes. They could never..at least that's what you told yourself to help halt the booming alarm bells coursing through your brain.

Josuke nods,"Yeah,let's just go to sleep,m'kay?" You don't protest him,welcoming the suggestion of sleep. " G'Night 'Suke." He hums a response and snuggles closer to your neck. You close your eyes,attempting to drift off to a peaceful darkness.

Josuke's rhythmic breathing against the nape of your neck soothes you like a lullaby does.

☠︎☠︎

"Sorry me and Okuyasu had to go to work. We tried to wake u up but u wouldn't budge. See you later tho and stay safe!" Is what you read as you groggily pour yourself some milk for the cereal you're about to eat.

"Ughgg I can't believe I slept in for so long..." you complain. It's now 4:39 in the afternoon and you find yourself dazzlingly eating not so good cereal.

You guess though,that at least this is somewhat normal for a person your age. To sleep long and be unproductive the moment summer break hits. But you're no longer a normal college student anymore,for the man taunting your innocent city is now personally bothering you.

You wait and wait and wait,doing things to keep your mind busy until the clock strikes 12. Time slowly yet quickly slips the your finger tips. It seems every time you pursue an activity the time goes the quicker. It's almost like the universe can sense your unrelenting anxiety and chose to pick on you.

5' o clock

6' o clock

7' o clock

8' o clock

9'o clock

10'o clock

11' o clock

Your face is crest fallen once you look down at your phone and realize that it's only one hour away from the awaiting phone call. Your chest tightens and suddenly all the air from your lungs flees. One breath,then another,and a third one before you slide down a wall.

It feels like the whole sky is resting on your racing chest. It's too much—it hurts it's so much.

You wheeze and try to compose your breathing. Slowly—extremely slow your compose yourself and once you do you immediately stand up.

"I can't stay here..! I-I have to go!" The thought of staying in your own house is too much right now. The thought of just sitting in your home like a sitting duck almost makes another panic attack ensue. You hurriedly grab your phone and stuff it into the pocket of the mid thigh length shorts you're wearing and slide on some sandals.

You rush out your door and start an instant pace away from your house. Further,you just needed to be further. It's now finally hitting you that there's no real escape! The police couldn't and wouldn't help,after all they haven't done much of anything to help with the disgusting crimes committed prior. Josuke and Okuyasu can't help you,they're just regular young adults just like you.

You're just screwed,so screwed. And you may have made yourself even more screwed by making the rather impulsive decision to walk away from home. But you honestly didn't make it too far,being only 10 houses away from your own. You pull out your phone from your pocket and it's barely 11:15. You could still walk back to your house..but then what? He'd call and tell you to touch yourself again and then you'd just do whatever he says?

That didn't sound good to you at all. However the choices are slim—go to the police force who won't do anything about or accept whatever they'll want you to do. Both of those choice sound horrible,however one has a more merciful fate. If you were to go to the police you feel that they would know but if you were just to be obedient,maybe,just maybe you'd have a sliver of hope to be unharmed.

With that you briskly walk back to your once beloved home. The overwhelming sense of dread constantly pokes at you. You'd just have to suck it up,no matter what they gave to you.

You wrap your ample arms around the protruding roundness of your stomach,gripping anything for comfort. Despite your poor attempt at comfort you still feel a sinking ball of anxiety fall lower into the never ending pit of your tummy.

You never thought that is ever growing ball of sensed doom could get any bigger,however once you arrive at your house and find the door to your house is barely ajar.

Your heart booms and booms against it's confined cage. The hairs of the back of neck stand tall once you feel the familiar vibration of your phone shaking against your leg. A shaky hand reaches for the cellular device and you see the dreaded numbers.

Unlike last time,you made sure there's no room for blowing off a unknown number again. You answer,fear injecting your tone,"H-Hello?" You can practically hear the smile on the murderer's face,"Heya doll! You've been a good girl fa' us?" This voice...sounds different—raspy and deeper than the voice prior. This must the other half of Ghostface.

"Y-Yes." You answer. "Hmm...Don't sound so bummed out! It'll be good in a lil bit,okay?" You're off put by the shift in personality and tone. This Ghostface sounded nicer,less impatient and sadistic. Although the new voice is a scary find,it doesn't distract you from the slightly opened door to your home. "Did you come to my house?"

The question stands still,the man on the other line letting it cruelly marinate. "I dunno,why don't ya find out?" A thin layer of anticipation sweat coats your face as you gulp down a wad of saliva. "I'm waiting inside,are ya really gonna make me be here all night?" It's whiny—his tone,almost childish. It reminds you of someone but you can't put your finger in it.

"N-No." You remark. "Yeah? Then,hurry inside. I gotta surprise for ya." Something told you that this surprise isn't something you'll be very glad to see. The images of someone's intestines lining your floor as some sick substitute for romantic rose petals—blood splatters coating the untouched decor instead of calming candles. Or worse,them waiting with knives in their hand preparing to torture you and mutilate your body.

What you find when you enter the invaded house isn't intestines,nor blood splatters. No,what you find is much worse than anyone's sick mutilation. Dozens of polariod pictures decorate the wooden floor. With each step you take it's like looking at a mirror full of past yous because all the images laid on the foundation are of you. Naked,clothed,changing,eating,sleeping—whatever a person's daily normal activities are all there right in front of you.

But what's really the icing on this fucked up cake,is the two bodies cloaked in black and elongated dramatic masks,standing there in the middle of splay of pictures. Ghostface. The sights are so terrifying,so incredibly off putting that you don't know what to look at—the secretly taken pictures or the Ghostfaces that have ruined Morioh.

"Well are ya just gonna stand there or are ya gonna greet us?" The raspy voice rhetorically asks. If you weren’t suffering from shock you would’ve made the smart choice and walked over to them but you physically couldn’t move. Your body feels like a leaf struggling to fight the wind

— the trembling exuding from your nerves being unstoppable. “Aww she’s scared! We can’t just leave her like that.” The one who’s slightly taller says.

“Yeah,you’re right. Let’s make this easier for her.” The pair walk over to you and there’s so much tension. So much fearful curiosity on what’s going to happen to you. “P-Please…” That’s all you can mutter. Just please. Please what? Please don’t murder me? Please don’t hurt me? You don’t know what you’re asking for but you just wanted to stop whatever’s happening to you.

“ Josuke’s she’s pleading,I feel bad.” Josuke? Your Josuke? There’s no way you heard that right. A hard swat is heard,a harsh impact landing on the male’s arm. “Ya idiot! She was supposed to know after we were done! Fuck,you just ruined our plan.” The man you call a friend,the man who’s comforted you from Ghostface …is the one disturbing Morioh.

You want to be pissed,want to yell and scream and tell them what sick bastards they are. They only thing you can manage is a broken sob fleeing from your body. Hot tears soak your cheeks, the constant moisture never leaving. You can’t even bear to stand anymore,your knees giving out on hard wooden floor.

“Why?! Josuke,how could you?! Okuyasu why?! Just why?!” You cradle your hands in your face and just sob,letting snot and salty tears build up on the skin. Hard heavy boots stomp their way to your form and a gloved hand forces you to look up at a screaming mask.

“Don’t go pitying yourself. You should be thankful we did all this for you—because we love you. Don’t you realize how lucky you are to have two people so in love with you?” By now Josuke’s taken off his mask,allowing you to stare at his crazed expression. Okuyasu joins in,his bare face shown to you too,”Yeah! Me and Josuke are just doing this because we love ya! So just be a good girl like last night and everything should be good,m’kay?”

“You love me..YOU LOVE ME?!” You voice trembles with a mixture of rage and betrayal. “How can you even claim to love me when you hurt my community?! How do you even have the audacity to say such a thing when you’ve lied and manipulated me?! You two bastards are sick!” You’re about to stand up before Josuke’s strong hand shoots out and pushes your head down with a insane amount of strength.

“You’ve always been stubborn (Reader)…but if ya can’t see what we’re trying to do for you then fine. I didn’t want to be so rough with ya…only wanted to scare ya a bit and then fuck your poor little brains out but since you wanna be a bitch though we’ll do it the hard way.” Effortlessly,so easily he scoops you up and hauls you over his shoulder. You hang over his muscular back and scratch your dull nails through the fabric. It doesn’t seem to be effective and only manages to piss him off because he roughly spanks your slightly exposed bottom.

“Behave.” He warns. You whine at the impact but stop your physical protest. “Okuyasu go get the rope,she won’t stay still.” Chills crawl down your spine the moment he utters that and so…casually too. “Right.” Okuyasu stops following you two and goes back downstairs.

Josuke takes you to your room and plops you on the bed. You attempt to force out all the hatred and betrayal and..sadness you feel once you look at him in face again. He chuckles at that,seemingly amused by it. “You can never be mad at us—at me,you’ve always had such a soft spot for me and Okuyasu. So just accept whatever we give you,yeah?”

With that he pushes you flat on your back onto the springy mattress,his big hand cradling your wrists as he straddles you. He pulls something from his pants and once you see the reflective glimmer of a cool metal your chest starts racing up and down. “What’re you do—“ His gloved fingers mush your lips shut. “Shhh..just let me do it.”

He brings the knife down to your thin cotton tank top,the tip of the jagged knife circling your hardened nipple. “No bra?” He smugly asks. “Were you waiting for me and ‘Oku to ruin ya’re cunt?” You shake your head no and he chuckles. “What do that little phone call I gave you yesterday didn’t have ya pacing in excitement? Didn’t have your pretty fuckin cunt clenching around nothin?”

You ignore him yet he’s still amused. “It’s okay,sweet thing you don’t have to lie to me. I know how your body feels.” He continues his gestures,making sure the cool blade nips at your erect nipples. A small whine falls from your lips at the cold contact—sounds are pulled from you by the attention on your bare breasts. “Shit ya sound so good,ya know that? Fuck needa see your pretty titties.”

He quickly cuts open your shirt with the weapon,not caring about how dangerous the swift motions are. Josuke practically drools once he his dilated pupils lock onto your chest and tummy. “Fuck,Okuyasu better hurry up before I take you for myself…” His veiny hands grip the pillowy flesh rested on your chest,his flat finger nails digging into you.

Okuyasu comes barging into the room with a coil of rope and a cam recorder. “Noo you started without me!” He impatiently sets the items onto the bed and rushes over to hover over you. His eyes light up like a little kid in a candy shop once he lays eyes on you. “Ya’re so fuckin gorgeous (Reader)!” Impulsively his hand reaches over to touch your boobs,not even bothered by the fact that Josuke’s hands are over them.

“ Josuke move your hands,I wanna feel.” He complains. “Whatever…” He arises from his straddling position and walks over to the other side of the bed. Happily Okuyasu takes his spot and hops over your laying body. His face dives into your chest and whatever he’s doing feels so unbelievably nice. He suckles like a baby being nursed on your exposed nipples,rotating from your left to right one. He mushes and massages eagerly,loving the way you feel.

“You taste…so fucking good! I wanna know what that pretty cunt tastes like!” He pops off your tits so crudely but you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can even get out is small whimpers and grips on his hair. “Yeah,Okuyasu eat her cunt! I’ve been thinking about that since I called her. It’s so fuckin fat Okuyasu…and her little clit just throbs whenever you give it any attention.”

“Shit really? You’re a real lucky bastard Josuke,gettin to see her cummin on her fingers.” Josuke chuckles,”I think you’re the lucky one,you’re the one who gets to taste it first.” Okuyasu doesn’t argue that so he hastily pulls down your shorts and panties. “Spread your legs,baby.”

You do as he says,allowing him to slide off your clothes. He quickly slides down your body,making his way to your cunt. He pushes your thighs apart and whistles an appreciative tune. “Mmm..you weren’t lying,her pussy’s so pretty.” Without any warning he nudges his nose against your clit. Affectionately teasing the throbbing button.

He spreads apart your pussy lips even separating your thick pubic hair that’s stuck to the moisture of your cunt. He dives in with zero hesitation,wrapping his mouth around your hammering clitoris. You writhe and moan at his attentive behavior—everywhere,his tongue felt everywhere.

It felt like you couldn’t catch a break, every few minutes you were gasping and moaning,arching your back away from the bed. Okuyasu spits down your pussy as he sits up to look at you. “You look so fuckin cute. Josuke you gotta film this…look at her face—fuck I got so much pre cause of it.” He immerses himself back in between your legs this time scissoring two of his fingers into your accommodating walls.

His free hand clenches the hanging fat above your cunt,the harder he licks the more his grip becomes more rough. “Look at me,sweet thing..Look at the camera.” Josuke points the camera down at you with one hand,the other rubbing a painful looking bulge fighting against the fabric of his pants. You whine and whimper,” Y-Yasu! Don’t stop!”

Your encouragement only makes the tongue in between your legs move more passionately. It feels so good! So good! So good,that you can’t fight back the cascading tears falling from your eyes. “Shit—you feel so good that ya’re crying,baby? Yeah? You like Oku’s tongue on your sweet cunt?” The male leans down and lick away the salty tasting liquid from you plush cheeks. “Mmm..just everything tastes good about you.”

“Aaah! ‘Gnna cum! G’nna cum!” Slur after slur Okuyasu continues his aggressive attack on your sensitive pussy. You push away from his mouth,using your hands to uproot you from your place on your back however you’re met with big hands digging into the flesh of your wide hips. “Nu uh,don’t move away from him! You’re interrupting his meal. We can’t let ya do that…” Josuke sets the camera down onto bedside table and reaches for the discarded rope.

He swiftly bounds you by your wrists and softly pushes you back onto the bed. “Now be a good girl and take it!” He exclaims. By then Okuyasu seems to have found a special spot that would take you over the brink of pleasure. He curls his digits against the mushy spot and a loud hysterical scream falls from your lips.

You see black spots taking over your vision. You can’t hear anything,can’t even see,a mind numbing orgasm taking over all senses.

You’re so incoherent that you don’t even know how you’re sprawled out on your hands and knees. “Ya’re gonna take this dick,doll? Hmm,you want this fat cock hitting ya cervix?”

You look behind you and find Josuke positioned behind you.

“W-What??” Okuyasu hushes you by pushing the tip of his pre cum covered head against your lips. “Just enjoy it,doll face..Just enjoy it.” Is all you hear before the tip of his mouth enters your mouth.

You mumble around his tip right before Josuke mercilessly thrusts inside of your cunt. Your lips pop off Okuyasu’s tip in a surprised moan. “ Gentle! Be gentle! Fuck—omg!” Your moan against Okuyasu’s inner thigh,the toll of Josuke’s rough treatment becoming more obvious.

“C’mon baby,don’t ignore me! I need you…” Okuyasu whines. He nudges your mouth to his once more and this time you’re ready for it. You curl your tongue around the expanse of his shaft. You set a constant motion,bobbing your head halfway down his cock and jerking off what you can’t fit in your mouth.

Josuke seems to like the pace you’ve set and gyrates his hips into you each time you pull away from Okuyasu’s dick. In and out,in and out,that’s all you can think—feel about. It’s so euphoric,feels so new. Each time Okuyasu’s thick cock burns the back of your throat,Josuke’s cock deliciously drags against your clamping walls.

The man behind you has a death grip onto the fat of you wealthy hips. “Fuck,I’m gonna cum in this pussy! Gonna claim this pussy as mine! Shit!” His labored breath quickens the deeper and deeper he goes into you.

Okuyasu groans and forces your head further down his cock. You gag and grip the sheets as your back of your throat is constantly touched by his oozing tip. It’s too much! It’s too much to have them both focusing you on you at the same time.

You try to pull away to express the intense overstimulation you’re facing but a rough hand keeps you still. But what really sends you over the edge is when you feel two fingers reaching over you and circling your clit. “Mmhm! You’re so good,baby! Taking me so well!” Okuyasu compliments.

Josuke groans and mutter babbles of praises. It’s a mantra of noises,diluting the idea of time for you. You’re not sure if it’s been hours,minutes or mere seconds.

But still you find yourself so close to the brink of sweet paradise. “Such. A. Perfect. Fucking.Cunt.” Each word is emphasized with a balls deep thrust. You moan on Okuyasu’s cock,gripping the sheets underneath you.

You’re so close,so close! You could feel your orgasm creeping up on you! “Mmmf!” A shocked whimper is muffled by white hot liquid overflowing in your mouth. You don’t even have to process it before Josuke tightens his grip on you and mounts you like a animal in rut.

“Shit m’ gonna cum in ya! Want ya cunt to take every single drop!” He groans and leans against you,punching your cervix with the head of his fat cock. That’s when you can’t hold it anymore and you slump forward,finally letting go of Okuyasu’s member from your oral hold.

Josuke fucks you throughout your orgasm,every single thrust paired with filthy words. Finally at his last thrust his hips still as he releases a huge load into you. He huffs and huffs against your back,Okuyasu mimicking his actions as well.

And you can barely keep your eyes open—the vision offered to you being slowly whisked away. From then your whole surroundings disappear and everything doesn’t exist anymore…

Not even the fact that Morioh’s killers made you theirs…

Reblogs are greatly appreciated! So are comments!<3

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faefictions · 8 months

Text

Eddie Munson x Reader

Fluff, dealer!Eddie (kinda), self medication, reader is not in a good headspace my guys, completely unedited

2k words

Summary: You turn to weed in hopes it will help you finally get a break from your brain, but when all else fails, your so-called dealer knows how to help.

Tired.

It wasn't only what you were, it was the only word that had been repeating in your head for the past several days. Your constant state of autopilot only interrupted occasionally to remind you of how fatigued your limbs still were.

Sleep wasn't coming easy. It never had, but your insomnia only grew worse with every day you spent trying to pretend that life was currently business as usual.

It had been three months of this. This constant state of exhaustion. This inability to make it through a day without wishing your life had turned out any other way. This yearning for anything to take your pain away.

That was how you met Eddie. Your coworker told you about a friend of a friend. Some dude who used to deal back in high school. And although his new employment circumstances were legal, she said he could still get you something.

"Maybe it'll get that stick out of your ass," she had commented while writing down the number of this "dealer". Said "stick" was none other than depression brought on by the trauma you were still refusing to talk to anyone about. It didn't feel important anymore.

What was important was figuring out a way to just sleep. You were willing to try anything to make your brain shut up for a full 8 hours, and it would be an added bonus if it could shut up for the other 16 hours of the day.

Eddie got the call from your coworker, not you, a few days later. Although you were desperate for anything to make you feel better, you weren't able to build up the energy to pick up the phone and have a conversation with a man you'd never met. Especially not a conversation in which you plead with this stranger to sell you drugs.

He wasn't eager about the idea of selling again. He still got his shit from Rick, but that was his stash only. After being accused (and exonerated) for the murder of the most popular girl in town, he did his best to keep his activities legal. He didn't need to add any more fuel to the fire of the town hating him.

That didn't include partaking in the product himself though, the thought of quitting that barely crossed his mind.

He honestly tried telling your coworker no, that he didn't do that shit anymore, but he didn't know how to tell a begging girl no.

That was how you found yourself at his trailer at 9 pm on the coldest night of October. You felt guilty even showing up, you had heard the other end of his conversation with your coworker, and you knew he was just about as excited for this interaction as you were. But you needed to try something, and he couldn't lie, he could use the spare cash. Even if it was just a few bucks.

The man who answered the door was exactly what you were expecting. She hadn't told you what Eddie had looked like, but you figured anyone with a reputation like his wasn't going to look like your average Joe.

He was wearing a faded Van Halen t-shirt that had been poorly cut into a muscle tee, long curly frizzy and falling into his face. The chains attached to his belt loops were what really sold it though. He definitely looked the part of the high school drug dealer, the kid people only pretended to like for a discount on weed. The kind of kids you had been best friends with in high school.

"You y/n?" He asked the second he opened the door. You answered with a quick nod, and he welcomed your shivering body into his home.

He never would have done any deals in his trailer in High School. Not only did he not want Wayne caught up in all of his shit, but he never wanted to let anyone know where he lived. He knew better.

But now that he lived on his own, across the lot in the same trailer park he spent a majority of his childhood in, he was less worried. Especially knowing that the person he was selling to was friends with one of the few people from his past who didn't still think he was a murderer. He just hoped you were safe to have around.

He figured you were when he opened the door and took one look at you. Nothing about you screamed trouble, not to him at least. You dressed in the same way as him, and the most concerning thing about you was the dark circles under your eyes.

For a moment he thought you had been in a fight, but as you entered and came closer to the light coming from the kitchen, he realized that they were just the bags under your eyes.

Neither of you spoke much before you left with your goods. He told you to call him when you needed more, and smiled at you as he led you out the door. That hadn't been the plan.

He was going to tell you to buy from Rick next time, or one of his other dealers in town. He didn't plan on getting caught up as the middleman, but something about you made him want to make sure he was there next time.

Sure enough, a week later, you called to ask if you could stop by that night to pick up some more weed, and you were back on his doorstep by 10pm.

He did a sly once over of you when he opened the door, making note that you still looked like you hadn't slept since he saw you last. He tried making a bit more small talk this time, hoping to get you to crack a smile, but you left just as quickly as last week.

On the third week, you had been tempted to ask Eddie to double up on what he had been giving you. You were grateful to have a couple hours a day where your brain didn't feel on fire, but you still weren't sleeping. You weren't sure more weed could help with that though.

"Probably a dumb question, but you don't happen to have anything stronger, do you?" You asked as he handed you the same amount as last time.

Your question seemed to strike a nerve with him. Not one that angered him, but one that definitely upset him. You couldn't make out his emotions, but you thought he almost seemed concerned. Little did you know, that question had brought him right back to a conversation in the woods with a particular cheerleader. Nothing good happened after she had asked him that.

"What are you looking for?" He asked, though it sounded like it pained him.

"No idea, just something to make my brain stop for a while."

He deliberated for a moment, then tried to play nonchalant when he asked, "Not sleeping, huh?"

"Is it that obvious?" You laughed bitterly.

"You look like you got hit by a bus… to put it lightly," he replied earnestly, and got a chuckle out of you.

"It's been a long year," you gave him a half hearted smile. This was still a business transaction to you, and the last thing you wanted to do was trauma dump on your dealer.

But that was exactly what he wanted.

"Can I be honest with you?" He asked, unable to fully hide his concern.

"Shoot."

"I know you're paying me, but I dont think drugs are your answer."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I mean I don't know what's going on in there," he gestured vaguely towards your head, "but there's other ways to feel better."

"Well I think I've exhausted all my other options," you sighed, dragging a hand down your face.

"When's the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"What's today?"

"Thursday."

"OK, well that would make it…. June?"

Eddie chuckled, but went right back to being worried.

"That's almost half a year."

"So you see why something stronger would do me wonders."

"I have a better idea. Do you trust me?"

You looked at him for a moment, deciding on how to answer. You barely knew him. This was your third time seeing him in person, and this was the most words you had heard come out of his mouth. Yet, the answer was yes. You trusted him wholeheartedly for some reason, but he didn't need to know that.

"Sure," you sighed, and allowed him to lead you to his couch.

He guided you to sit down, and left you with a blanket to cozy up with while he grabbed a joint from his bedroom, and an armful of snacks so you could stay put for the next few hours.

Now, taking your 4th puff from the lit joint before passing it back to him, you laid back and let him continue asking you questions.

"So you're friends with Cindy then?"

It took you a second to process who he meant. Cindy was the coworker who had recommended Eddie for weed.

"No, not really."

"Really? Because she seemed to have nothing but kind words about you."

"We're more of workplace acquaintances, I guess."

"OK. So do you live with any roommates?"

"No, just me."

"So no friends, no roommates, and no family within state lines?"

"Yeah, but it sounds more depressing when you put it like that."

"That's because it is depressing," he insisted, taking another drag from the joint. The room was just beginning to grow hazy from the smoke, and your brain was starting to feel the same.

"I think I know what's really wrong," he shot you a small smile from the other end of the couch.

"Oh yeah? Please tell me your diagnosis, Doctor Ed."

"You're lonely."

You froze for a second. Sure, it was obvious that was a big part of the problem. But how he said it, like it was almost a question. Like he knew that was the right answer, but there was still a blank he wanted you to fill in. It made you pause, unable to look him in the eye as you grabbed the joint from his hand and nearly inhaled the whole thing.

"Maybe you've got a knack for this therapy shit," you joked, hoping he wouldn't still be looking at you the same way when you returned his gaze. But he was. He was still looking at you with pity, though you could tell he was trying to hide it.

"How much do you trust me?"

"Less and less each time you ask."

"If I promise to stop asking, how would you feel about spending the night? We can watch a movie or something. And I'll drive you home in the morning."

"I dont know…"

"No strings attached, no ulterior motives. Just a guy trying to make a friend with someone just as lonely as him."

You considered for a moment. You hadn't meant what you said. No matter how many times he asked, you still trusted him. So you said yes.

You had to fight him on putting on a horror movie. It was the Halloween season after all, but you told him that watching people getting killed would make you rethink your decision to stay over.

"Feels too much like foreshadowing," you said, and he finally relented.

Instead, he found the old western he had inherited from Wayne when he moved out. You were much happier with that decision.

You fell asleep 30 minutes in, and Eddie would have complained in the morning that you had missed his favorite part, but he had fallen asleep right next to you. Your head rested on his shoulder, his head atop yours. The awkward untangling from each other was future you's problem.

For now, you were getting the full 8 hours you deserved.

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sunnybunnyy2 · 6 months

Text

Two Wrongs Don’t Make A Right

Daryl Dixon x platonic!reader

Negan Smith x daughter!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.0k

TIME: season 7

Warnings: imprisonment, talk of rapists(briefly), talk of murder, mentions of Abe’s and Glenn’s deaths, arguments, mentions of saviours, mentions of what transpired in season six and seven, spoiler warning and bad writing.

CHAPTER 2 of the Dark Cell series

Series Masterlist Official Masterlist

This is long awaited! I'm sorry that this has taken so long but I have been making fanfics on Wattpad recently and if you are a fellow fanfic writer you understand how much unnecessary time it takes to come up with ideas and lines to make your character come to life. Thank you all for being so patient with me! Also, requests are open, and I will be redoing my master list, so look out for that. I have been influenced so yes, this is going to become a series so stay tuned! Now that I finished this part I have more motivation to actually write for this! I’d you want to be tagged in the series let me know! Thank you so much for reading<3

(if there is third person slip ups I’m sorry, I’m just so used to writing in third person :( )

The exchanges took place every night at around 1 a.m., and it had for the past seven days.

You would arrive carrying a plate or bowl of whatever leftover food you had managed to swipe from the kitchen or some dinner from the meals you would share with Negan.

You had aimed to make the food before you went down so that it was still hot but it was risky as, there was a large chance that one of Negan's men would notice and alert your father, which would raise suspicion.

The food consisted of Sandwiches, chicken, pasta, fish, soup and wraps.

You wished you could do it more often, but you knew that it would largely increase the chances of you getting caught.

You knew your punishment wouldn't be anywhere near how severe Daryl's would be. You also knew that as much as you pleaded your father would allow his pawns to have their fun in harming the long-haired man. You weren't quite sure why your father's men were so willing to starve and beat a man senseless to appear strong. Men and their egos you supposed.

Your father could preach all he wanted about how he would do anything for his daughter, how he would move mountains to appease you. How he would kill anyone who dared to disrespect you (he had) but yet he couldn't try and be a better man. He couldn't put his rage and grieve the wicked world had caused him and help people instead of torturing broken people and turning people who wanted to survive into heartless killers. Turn them into him.

You couldn't say you hated your father. You never could. But that certainly didn't mean you agreed with half the things he did.

You could tell he cared what you thought of him. You were the last thing he had of your mother, but that didn't mean he listened to you when you expressed your opinion.

You and your father were close before all of this happened, well before you found out about his affair. After that day you hated everything about him. Even when your mother got sick and he stood by her, did everything for her. You weren't sure if it was because of how guilty he felt for betraying her or because he loved her.

Normally you would insist on it being the first but now she was at a loss.

Since your mother's demise, your once childish but thoughtful father had turned into a power-hungry greedy man. At first you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was grieving and was trying to find a way to cope with the loss of the woman he loved but it was as though he was forgetting that his daughter had lost her mother.

He wanted to make you happy, so he gifted you the biggest room in the sanctuary and allowed you to purchase whatever you desired without working, though you often helped with the growing crops in the back of the sanctuary. Your father never really liked the idea of her around the fence but he backed down after a heated argument between you. He did send some of his men to keep an eye on you, he tried to be discreet but his men were less than.

You always made sure to bring a large glass of tap water from your room down to his cell, wanting to at least make sure he didn't die of dehydration.

You knew that his physical health wasn't as bad as it was before but you knew that his mental health was still declining. He had been locked in the tiny cell for weeks on end, the only sound filling his ears was the constant lyrics of the song 'East Street'.

The bags under his eyes were proof enough of the lack of sleep he had been receiving. The way his eyes could barely focus on one thing when you would bring him his meals was another important factor in your conclusion.

Since your visits had become more frequent he had uttered his name quietly into the comfortable silence that had filled the cell as he hastily inhaled what was in front of him. It was so quiet that you had barely heard him, but once you realized that it wasn't your imagination you smiled softly to yourself before muttering your name as well.

In your mind, you were friends. You knew his name, he knew yours, you would bring him food, he would be thankful and you were both the highlight of each other's day.

Daryl- because he wasn't rapidly dropping weight as he had been before from his lack of food, which in turn kept his brain running so he could coax his thoughts into coming up with a plan to escape his captivity. Plus your company wasn't so bad he reckoned.

You- because you got to meet another survivor from a rivalling group, you had heard your father angrily ranting to his soldiers about how this mysterious group had taken out one of his many posts and killed everyone in it.

You were shocked at how brutal this group could be but you knew that your father could be even more heartless and it was proven when a week later whispers were passed along through the sanctuary that your father had partaken in another one of his lineups and had bashed in two members of Daryl's groups heads in with Lucille.

You knew that Daryl's group had killed countless people, saviours but at least their families and friends didn't have to see it, as apparently the people from the outpost were killed while they slept. It was a very cowardly way to kill but it was better in a way, they didn't see it coming.

You clutched the tray of food which consisted of a slice of ham from a pig the saviours had recently slaughtered as a way to celebrate the new community they had under their control, standing with the other few that they had taken over. With a side of carrots that you had picked herself to give him some energy.

Then finally a generous helping of mashed potatoes to fill him up, as you knew that a small sandwich was going to get him through the day. Well, you guessed it was two, as Dwight had made sure to feed him a dog food sandwich every other day to keep him going. A dark pork gravy from the brand Bisto (clubhouse is better but whatever) that was covering a large portion of the potatoes. Your father did always say that you made it taste even better when you made it.

Your eyes peeked around the sharp corner to make sure Arat was on her way to her break that she always made sure to hide, always quick on her feet to head to her room to get several strong minutes of shut-eye.

Your eyes caught sight of Arat quietly creeping her way further and further away from Daryl's new home. You waited a couple of minutes until you were sure she was in her room, possibly already captivated by sleep. You placed one foot in front of the other as you too, crept down the hallway, the fear of getting caught burning fear into her veins.

You balanced the tray on one hand as you reached into your left pocket, to pull out the cell key that you had stolen from Laura, well it wasn't quite stealing, she had dropped it and hadn't even noticed. You could still remember her confused face when she caught you on the ground after catching you mid-grab. You smiled at her and played it off as if you were tying your shoe, which she bought as she shot you a smile and continued on with her ranting.

You turned the key clockwise into the rusting metal, smiling in satisfaction when the lock clicked quietly as a sign that it was now unlocked.

The creak that was loudly pulled from the door as it was opened left you cringing as you quickly shuffled into the room, closing the door until there was only a fragment of it for a little bit of light but it wasn't large enough to draw suspicion towards your meetings.

You could already see Daryl gazing up at you as you pulled the door closed, before lowering yourself to the floor, holding your hands out as a sign for him to take the plate which he did. He had loosened up a large amount since you had started being him food a week ago.

He was still stand-offish and didn't like to talk about his group which you didn't blame him for, you were with the enemy, you were his daughter. You weren't sure if he knew of your status at the sanctuary but if he did, it didn't come from you. It had already taken a great amount of effort to gain his trust and you wouldn't want it broken just because of who your father was.

If he brought it up, you would talk to him about it, but for now, you didn't want to risk losing one of the only people that didn't just suck up to you because they wanted more points or because they were scared to face your father's wrath if they hurt your feelings.

"Hey, sorry I was late, Arat took longer than usual to hit the deck." You quickly explained as expected the food in a curious glint in his eyes. "It's ham. Sorry, I didn't know if you liked it but they just killed a pig and me and my-... I had some for dinner earlier, it was good... and there's potatoes obviously, there's some cheese in them too with carrots and gravy." His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you in question just as he had been since you had almost slipped up. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned well... at least I hope it isn't because I ate the same thing but I guess we'll find out."

He let a harsh breath out of his nose that sounded similar to a laugh before he picked up the metal fork before shoving a large bite of potatoes in his mouth, a barely audible groan fell from his lips as he continued to inhale the food, not even bothering to use the knife that you had brought to cut the meat, opting to just pick it up with his hands.

If it was anyone else you would find the wild eating disgusting, but you understood. He was being starved as a torture method to force him into submission. You had seen this countless times, but nearly all had caved within the first few days. It was shocking to you how strong he was. If it had been you... you weren't sure how long you could last if you were in the same position.

From how wild he was eating you could only assume today wasn't the day he got fed from Dwight.

You assumed you did well with the amount of food you had given him.

You kept your eyes trained on the opened part of the door to make sure the coast was clear still. Normally this side of the sanctuary was almost always deserted, but since Daryl as been held here, you had noticed a lot of working people wanted to catch a glimpse of one of the Alexandrians who had killed numerous soldiers. You weren't sure if was from fear or awe.

"Why are you doing this." He asked as he looked up from his half-eaten plate of food, to examine you while you spoke as if to see if you would lie to him.

"I don't like how he's handing this. I mean... what your group did was wrong. Really wrong. But what he's doing to you isn't right. No one should have to deal with this. I mean other than rapists, pedophiles, or child killers. I mean murder is really bad but there are some ways to excuse it, like self-defence but I mean the worlds over. People kill each other every day to survive. Don't make it right but it makes sense. You did what you thought you had to, to 'save' your group." You ranted slightly as you looked down.

"So you're doing this because I deserve better?" Daryl asked with a quiet snort as though he couldn't fathom the thought of someone actually thinking he was a decent guy.

"Everyone deserves better in some way. But no, some people just need a little help sometimes. You do, so I'm trying to help you." You said as watched him proceed with eating.

He looked up at you after he took yet another bite of his food. "I ain't need no help." He dismissed with a huff as he finished the last of his food.

"Obviously you do. Everybody does. You're no exception." You disagreed as he watched for any signs of Arat possibly returning earlier than usual.

"So why ya helping me? I'm sure the big man has more bitchs." He all but growled as he thought about your father causing your face to drop slightly as he kept your eyes away from him, in hopes of him not being able to see your full life story from just the shine in your eyes. Daryl looked like the type to be able to, you thought.

"He has some other... people in cells-" You were cut off by Daryl as he let out a dangerous scoff that should have had you scared. You were in a closed space with someone who wanted your father dead, I mean sure he didn't know that you and the man he hated most shared the same blood but it didn't matter. You were a Smith and that would never change. No matter how much you hoped and prayed that your father would suddenly turn a new leaf, it never seemed to happen. So at some point, you just saved your previously wasted breath.

"Ya mean prisoners?" He spoke sharply, his words not a question but a statement, showcasing how enraged he truly was with her father.

"Yeah...prisoners. There is some down here, yes. But they deserve it." You said while shaking your head as you thought about the awful people that were locked down here.

"Ain't nobody deserve this shit." He said with his whole chest as his eyes scanned your face with a mixture of hate and disgust at your words. You couldn't blame him though, he was locked in a cell and you had just said that the people locked in them deserved it.

"They're awful people. Rapists, child killers, people who kill without reason-"

"I ain't no rapist and I ain't no child killers. Me and my people had every righ-"

"Nobody has a right to take someone's life. Who made us god? When did we get to choose who got to live and who got to die?" You argued as you furrowed your brows at the man's words.

"How bout' ya tell yer buddy that? He killed my friends." He raised his voice louder than necessary which earned him a dirty look from you as you peeked out of the sliver of the door that shined light into the cell and once you were sure no one was coming with guns raised you turned back to face him.

"You killed dozens of his men while they were sleeping. You do realize that, right? I'm not saying what he did was right either, but you're lucky he didn't kill more of your people." You ranted slightly as you looked at him in confusion, he was so stuck in his own misery that he wasn't thinking about how other people were affected by his and his group's actions.

"Lucky? He bashed my friend's heads in." He said angrily but it was quiet. As if trying to scare you into submission but you didn't back down.

"And I'm sorry for your friends. I really am. But you couldn't have thought that your group could get away with slaughtering- and it was a slaughtering, his men and get away scot-free. You killed his soldiers. He takes that shit as a personal attack. So when I say I'm surprised he didn't kill more of you I mean it."

"One of my friends' wives was pregnant' ya think she deserved ta see that? Now tha' kid's gonna grow up without a father."

"Of course not. That's awful and I'm so sorry...but some of the men and women you slaughtered had kids. Wives. Parents. They had people who loved them too. One of the men, Mike, had a pregnant wife at one of the other outposts. She was eight months and gave birth to her baby girl two days after he died. Alone. And a woman, Mel, just got married to the man she loved, they were trying for a baby... He killed himself last week. Hung himself in his room all alone." You paused for a moment to see if he was going to speak up but when he didn't, you continued.

"An-and a woman named Willow had a baby at another outpost. Now that baby has to grow up without a mother. Another man named Carlos was an only child and had to work for points to provide for his parents. They're old and can't do it themselves. Now they're barely eating and are so depressed that their health is deteriorating, we're not sure how long they have left. So I'm sorry that your friends lost people they cared about but you didn't just get your group hurt with your guy's actions. You guys ruined so many lives that night."

You finished your rant as you shook your head, looking up at him only to see him looking down at his hands, his overgrown hair hung low to cover his eyes, masking his true reaction.

"I'm not trying to say that your friends' deaths don't matter but you can't just go around acting like you didn't kill people either. Like everyone else's pain doesn't matter to not feel guilty. But it does." You said quietly before deciding you had spent long enough in the stuffy cell. You reached over, grabbing the plate from in front of him before pulling yourself to your feet. You waited for him to speak again but he didn't bother and once you turned around he noticed that he hadn't moved from his place.

"Good night." You shook your head before he pulled the creaky door open a little more so the gap was large enough to fit your body through, closing it until you felt the metal clank quietly against metal.

You pulled out the key and shoved it into the lock, twisting it quickly before you heard quiet footsteps walking down the hallway from where Arat had left from. It seemed like you had left at the perfect time, you supposed.

You quietly but hastily quickened your pace until you were at the same corner you had looked over from around fifteen minutes prior.

You watched as Arat ran a hand over her short black and bleached blonde hair as she let out a yawn, swaying on her feet slightly from the over-tiredness she was experiencing, which was probably in full swing by the shortness of her sleep.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief before you quietly made your way in the direction of her room, the plate held tightly in your grasp as you walked past the mostly deserted sanctuary, sending a small smile to some of the saviours on watch duty. Most sent one back your way, while others seemed annoyed at the fact that they had duty at all, leaving them too aggravated to bother.

You were about to turn the handle of your door when you heard a voice stop you.

"Baby? What are you doin' up? It's late." Your father's voice stopped you in your tracks. A part of you wanted to run into your room and pretend that you had been sleepwalking but you knew your father knew you better than that and could almost always tell when you were fake sleeping. It was an odd talent if you were to be frank. So you turned around with a smile and spoke.

"I couldn't sleep. Decided to take a walk." You lied.

"With an empty plate of food?" He asked with raised eyebrows a sarcastic smirk on his face.

"...I got hungry on the way. Just heated up some leftovers from dinner. Didn't know that was a crime, Dad." You huffed in an attempt to sound believable.

"It's late. You could have woken me up. I would have walked with you." He said as he studied you.

"Seriously, dad? Literal armed guards are crawling the place. I think I'm okay walking to the kitchen. Plus you barely sleep as it is." You rolled your eyes at his mindset.

"I always have time for you, hunny... so who's the boy? Or girl. I don't discriminate. Hell, ya could be in love with a goddamn pumpkin and I would still approve. Maybe a little weirded out but hey, we all have our kinks." He smirked but his nose scrunched up slightly as he realized he was talking to his daughter and not one of his henchmen.

"Oh, wow, you figured it out. His name is Donteatmyseedsplease. I didn't want to keep it from you but I don't think you would approve. I'm so very glad I have your support, father dearest." You said in an overly happy voice even your eyes rolled with almost every word you spoke. You turned back to your door and turned ten knob, not going in as though to not give your father the opportunity to join you.

"You'll have to bring him over for dinner sometime we'll have squash."

"That wasn't funny Dad."

"Damn, you know how to wound a man's ego. Good girl, I taught you well." He said in a proud tone.

"I'm exhausted. Can we talk tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about something actually..." You spoke as you pushed your door open even wider than it had been and started to make her way into your large room.

"That's never good." He groaned before he leaned over to land a kiss atop your head. "I'll see you tomorrow, baby. I'm busy but I always have time for you." He pulled away and sent a smile your way which you returned before closing the door and leaning against it. A sigh of relief left your lips as you realized you were in the clear.

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