#don’t leave your poison out in the open ‘father’

[pawnshopbleus]

On Top

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader

Warnings - Smut, Penis in vagina sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Abortion is mentioned once, Angst with a happy ending. Not beta read :0

Authors Note - I think this is the first time I’ve written p in v sex so please bear with me.

Standing in front of the door to the Snow residence, you made sure you had everything. The basket you brought over for Coriolanus and his family was filled with food, gifts, and roses for Grandma’am. You wanted to celebrate Coriolanus’s historic win in this year's Hunger Games. Well, Lucy Grey won, but she wouldn’t have done without your Coriolanus. 

Your knuckles tapped the door three times and you patently waited until the door opened to reveal Grandma’am’s signature snow-white hair. She smiled at you and embraced you. She stepped aside and let you enter the home you had become so familiar with over the years. 

“Grandma’am, I wanted to bring this little gift for Coriolanus’s big win. The flowers are for you, by the way,” you winked and placed the basket on the table. “Speaking of, where might he be.” 

Grandma’am's eyes softened at your comment. “He’s with the dean,” she said, “He will be here any moment. You can wait for him in his room if you’d like.” Grandma’am rushed over to examine a particularly pretty white rose. 

You sat on Coriolanus’s bed tracing hearts on his pillow for what seemed like hours before his door opened. He looked frantic as if someone found out something they weren’t supposed to find.

“Come on, Coryo, you’re supposed to be smiling. Lucy Grey won. Aren’t you happy?” 

“I cheated,” he sighed. 

Your heart stopped. He what? Never in a million years did you think that he would do such a thing. With strong women like Tigris and Grandma’am raising him, you would have thought that he had the decency to break up with a woman before he did that.

Coriolanus shook his head as soon as he realized that you might have been taking his comment in the wrong way. “I cheated in the games. Not on you. I would never do that.” 

Your body relaxed and then it shot back up again. “Wait, what do you mean you cheated in the games? Is that even possible?”

Coriolanus explained what he did in order to get Lucy Grey to win. The compact mirror that used to belong to his mother had been packed with rat poison, poisonous to anyone who came in contact with it. He also put his father's handkerchief which was covered in Lucy Grey's scent in the snake's cage. If the snakes were familiar with her scent then they wouldn’t kill her. So it wasn’t her singing that saved her, it was Coriolanus. 

“What are they going to do to you?” Your eyebrows scrunched together with worry. You couldn’t lose Coriolanus for his stupid, yet chivalrous actions. 

“I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about the future. Right now, I want to live in the moment with the prettiest girl in all of Panem.” Coriolanus smiled at how your face heated up so quickly, but deep down he was hurting. He knew what his punishment was. Twenty years of service as a peacekeeper in the Districts. He would leave the Capital and everything he’s known since he was a baby. That he could deal with, but losing you would be the hardest thing he would have to deal with. 

He knew that you would run to your father and beg him to get Coriolanus out of serving, but he didn’t want you over-exhausting your father's resources. He was a big boy and he needed to learn how to deal with his consequences. He would be fine. After all, Snow lands on top.  

He wanted to live in this moment with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body. He wanted to hold onto that memory and make it last. 

Your smile calmed him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, eyes focused on your lips.

You nodded your head and smiled into the kiss. It was soft and sensual, vastly different from the kisses that the two of you usually share. Your lips brushed together as your bodies got closer to each other. By the time the two of you broke apart, you were under him, his forearms caging you underneath him. There was no need for him to do that. This is where you wanted to be, with Coriolanus. The toxic and tyrannical world that you lived in was long forgotten as she swooped in for another kiss. 

His lips traveled down to your cheek, then your jaw, and settled on your neck. He spent the majority of his time kissing and nibbling at the skin on your neck. There would be pretty little marks on your skin later, reminding people that you belonged to him. Coriolanus doesn’t remember when he got this territorial, but he sure loved the fact that Strabo Plinth’s beautiful daughter was his girlfriend. His girlfriend to mark and fuck and love whenever he wanted (with your consent of course.) 

You laughed as Coriolanus licked the sensitive patches of skin that he nibbled raw. “My parents are going to kill me when they see what you’ve done.” 

Coriolanus kissed your lips one more time in response to your comment. He then resumed his exploration of your body. His hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bra that he unclasped in less than five seconds. He threw it on the floor of his bedroom, letting it get hooked onto the pile of books in the corner. 

Coriolanus kissed in between the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive nipples. It was cold in the Capital of Panem and unfortunately, the Snow’s didn’t have indoor heating. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to melt. 

You sighed in pleasure as Coriolanus continued to explore your breasts. After five minutes of teasing, he began to travel south to the part where you needed him the most. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, “may I?” 

You nodded, “Ever the gentleman.”

With your permission, he ripped your pants off of you and threw them on the floor. They were lost in the pile of clothing that had gathered on the floor. Coriolanus had shed some of his clothing as well. His ripped body was adorned in nothing but his white underwear. 

Coriolanus spread your legs apart, “Look at how wet my girl is.” He traced a finger down the cotton of your underwear and slowly slid it up your legs. He wanted to drag this on as much as possible. You let out a grumble of frustration, getting tired of his constant teasing. Coriolanus gave in and got rid of your underwear. 

The same finger that was used to skim the fabric of your underwear was now being used to gather your slick and spread it across your sensitive pussy. You took a deep breath of air into your lungs. The feeling was new, but not unwelcomed. Coriolanus flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your clit was pulsing with need. You needed Coriolanus to drop the act and eat you out like he was a starving man.

“Coriol-” Your word was cut off by a moan as his mouth did exactly what you wanted it to do. Coriolanus delved into your pussy, tracing shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Your back arched off of the bed again. Coriolanus’s fingers teased your hole, trying to find the perfect time to ease into your channel. 

Coriolanus’s fingers weren’t thick, but they were long making it easier for him to tease your G-spot. He fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. Your lips were sure to be chewed raw after this, but they would serve as a reminder that you had a man who was willing to do this for you. Many high-society women told stories about their husbands not pleasuring them when they had sex. It sounded like a horrible life to lead, but they were rich and beautiful so they needed to sacrifice something. 

Coriolanus curled his fingers up, letting them knock against your G-spot. He continued to kiss and lick at your clit. You were close. By the way you were clenching down on his fingers, he could tell that the waterworks were coming. Your naked chest rose and fell as you played with your nipples, increasing the pleasure that you felt. Your head fell even deeper into the pillow as a chill ran down your body. That chill eventually led to where Coriolanus was currently still working. He ate your pussy like a starved man, just the way you liked it. 

Without warning, your juices painted Coriolanus’s face. He wasn’t surprised that you came so fast. The last time you had sex was two months ago. You were burning for him and he was burning for you. 

Coriolanus wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. That was the first time he had actually made you squirt. It had always been a personal goal of his after Tirgis explained to Coriolanus how a woman's body works. At first, he was traumatized. He didn’t want to have the sex talk with his dear cousin, but when he laid eyes on you for the time, he wanted to do everything Tigris said and more. 

His cock was hard. You could see the outline of it through his white underwear. You would tease him about his tighty whities later. Right now, you were laser-focused on the fact that Coriolanus hooked his thumbs under his waistband and lowered them, exposing his cock to the cold air. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. He jerked his cock off, spreading his precum all over his length. He wanted to make sure that it went in as smoothly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. 

He lined himself up at your core. He slid his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your slick with his dick before he pushed into you. Your insides welcomed him with little to no problem. The stretch felt good. You were all slicked up and ready for him.

Contraceptives weren’t a problem for you. Coriolanus was always careful and made sure to come somewhere that wasn’t your vagina. You didn’t want to have a kid just yet. First, you wanted to study at the University and travel back to District Two if you were given the chance. Then you wanted to get married. Pereferabbly to Coriolanus, but you didn’t know if that was possible yet. With his fate still undecided, your plans to marry the love of your life dwindled. Besides, even if you were to get pregnant your father would have enough money to get you an abortion

Coriolanus’s head fell forward as he buried his cock in your tight pussy. Two months and he had forgotten how good you felt. Your insides fluttered around him as he bottomed out. 

Coriolanus began to thrust his cock in and out of you. He was methodical with everything he did. Coriolanus set a rhythm as he fucked into you. He fucked you hard and fast. The side of his bed slapped against the wall and his mattress cracked and groaned as he fucked into you. You prayed to the heavens that Grandma’am and Tigris were in a deep sleep. Or that the walls of the Snow residence were thicker than Coriolanus’s cock. 

Coriolanus peppered your mouth with kisses in order to muffle your moans. He kept his pace as he did this. Your breasts jiggled as he fucked into you. Your hands found their way down to your extra-sensitive clit. You circled it with your fingers and moaned in pleasure at the feeling. 

His balls slapped against your ass as his strokes became more deep and labored. He was going to come soon. He needed to come soon. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Two months with no sex had gotten to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure. 

“Inside me,” you said. You were close too, the feeling of your finger frantically rubbing your clit and the feeling of Coriolanus's cock buried deep inside of you spurred your orgasm to come out from the woodwork.  

You have come a second time, your pussy fluttering and squeezing Coriolanus cock that was still inside of you. A string of curses fell from Coriolanus’s lips as he came inside of you. His pulsing and throbbing cock pushed his come deep inside of you as he continued to fuck you as he came. His thrusts were slow but intentional. He would have lasted a few more seconds, but with the way that your pussy squeezed his sensitive cock, he came instantly. 

Coriolanus slowly eased his cock out of you. The both of you were breathing heavily as Coriolanus went to grab a towel from his closet. He eased your legs open one more time as he cleaned you up. He was slow and gentle with it. He knew that you were still sensitive after two orgasms.

His come eased out of you and onto the towel. The sight almost caused him to get hard, but he didn’t feel like tiring you out even more. 

Once he was done cleaning you up, he tucked you into his chest and covered the two of you with the blankets on his bed. He kissed your forehead and your cheek. Coriolanus’s love language was kissing. He loved kissing you. He loved doing anything with you, but kissing was his favorite. 

Your eyes closed, but you weren’t falling asleep. Not yet. Sex might have been a clever distraction, but now that you were coming off your high you needed to know what will happen to the future of your relationship. 

“Coryo, what is going to happen to you? I know that you know what your punishment is. I'm not stupid.” 

Coriolanus sighed as he tried to keep his voice from waving. He rarely cried, but in moments like these, he did. Just you and him shielded away from the rest of the Capital were his favorite. “Twenty years as a peacekeeper.” 

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to cry. Your body ran cold as you repeated those words in your mind. Twenty years as a peacekeeper. Twenty years without your Coriolanus. Your Coryo. 

“My dad can-” 

“No,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want your dad to get me out of this one. I need to learn how to do things on my own.”

“What if I had a crazy elaborate plan to get you out of it?”

“Nothing could be crazier than this.” Coriolanus got this crazy idea. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend. “Marry me?” 

This isn’t how he wanted to propose to you. He had already gotten your father's approval months ago. You were perfect for him and you deserve a perfect proposal. He wanted to take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee, and ask you that way. Traditional and expected of Capital people, but things never go as planned when you’re a Snow. 

“Seriously?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but this all seemed a bit rushed. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you, but Coryo. You’re about to leave.” Then, your brilliant mind comes up with the perfect plan. 

You’ll marry Coriolanus, making him one of the heirs to the Plinth fortune. Thus making him more valuable to the Capital. This way you get to marry the love of your life and keep him within arms reach. Were you being possessive? Maybe, but it was better than the dean having to deal with an angry Plinth. 

And your plan worked. You and Coriolanus got married a week after he proposed to you. It was a bit rushed, but the two of you were ready. He was going to be a loving husband, and you, a loving wife. Coriolanus’s punishment would be reduced to two months of training in District Two. He would then return to the Capital as a peacekeeper. He would keep the peace during the day and return to you at night. 

Turns out Snow does land on top.

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

Time to study up on straight people sex!

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games

[sinsandsweetness]

“compulsion” - part 2 of PICK YOUR POISON - (a dads best friends love story)

first part here

pairing- (Shane x fem!reader)

warnings- nsfw, 18+, age gap, dads best friends, drinking, oral (r!recieving), fingering, jealous rick… 1.8k wc

You’d been a complete tease since that night in the garage. You knew it. They knew it. Apparently the only one who didn’t know it was your father. Such an oblivious man. Unable to see the way his friends undress you with their eyes anytime they get a glimpse of you. Or the way you purposely wear the shortest skirts you own whenever they’re around. And today was no exception. A neighbourhood barbecue that your parents are hosting. Mostly an attempt in upholding the outstanding community member facade they desperately cling to. And with all your fathers friends who were invited, you decide that for your own form of validation, to put on your shortest sundress. A pale yellow with a soft floral pattern, almost unnoticeable unless you were up close. It was so short that you have to pull the sides down anytime you get up from your seat.

“Where you goin’?” Rick asks as you tug on the skirt, heading for the door to your house. Your shoulder now a little cold without his arm wrapped around it. Something neither of your parents seemed to notice. Or if they did they certainly didn’t care. Too busy in conversation, welcoming some of the newest Alexandria recruits.

“Washroom.” You make a face at him. He seemed almost appalled that you’d be leaving his side. He probably was. Always trying to keep you close. Closest out of the three. And that was keeping him on edge. Trying to maintain your attention the most effectively, and keep it on the low. In fact, the secret was making him a little jumpy. The weeks of stolen kisses and touches catching up to him too. Very, very secret touches. Hiding what was becoming an exhilarating and extremely complicated relationship between three different guys, all old enough to be your father.

He watches your hips sway as you walk into the house, flashing him a cute smile before making your way down the hallway.

When the bathroom door opens, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Shane. With a flirty grin, your body moves quicker than your mind. Pushing the man back in as he tries to object, but you don’t let him. Pressing your lips to his and pulling him in by the back of his neck.

“What-”

“Mhpm.” You don’t even let him answer. Just continue kissing him all hot and needy, while you close the door behind you, pulling him close against you as you start to feel him relax. To accept that this was happening.

The entire day was torture. Each one of them very aware of your cries for attention, but not offering to do anything about them. When you tried to pull Rick upstairs to your bedroom he got all tight jawed and told you to cut it out. Pinching your ass as he led you towards the backyard. And Daryl, silently shook his head when you teased your fingernails up your thigh, lifting your skirt to show him the colour of the thong you were wearing. Ugh, they’re so boring. No fun at all.

It’s such a shame too. You want them so bad and they barely seem to acknowledge it. You woke up this morning all hot and needy, hand in your panties before your alarm even wrang. And seeing the men all perfect and groomed wasn’t helping. In their Sunday best button ups, with a spritz of cologne that made your head dizzy. It was intoxicating. The way you actually crave them. The way you feel like you need them. You’re already addicted and you’ve barely even had a taste.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m a virgin?” You ask Shane in between messy kisses, hands already tugging at his belt, more than hinting at the real reason you decided to trap him in the costal themed bathroom.

He laughs against your lips. He tastes like beer. And you like it. A lot.

“Absolutely not.” He leans back. Tone more serious now. “Are you?”

An amused huff escapes your lips as you rest your head against the bathroom door. “No. But I wish I were.”

You pull him in again, tongue tracing his bottom lip as you kiss him. “Wish it coulda been you who popped my cherry,” his hand is under your dress, rubbing you through your panties. “Who fucked me and corrupted me,” you continue against his lips, the softest moan escaping your throat at his touch.

But he pauses. Trying to catch his breath, still rubbing soft circles on your clit.

“Ain’t too late for that second one.”

He’s right. It’s not.

“Probably woulda been better then some 16 year old jock on prom night. What’d he last, 30 seconds? Bet he couldn’t even make you come, huh?” He asks, fingers finding their way into your panties now, spreading your arousal onto your clit, and dipping inside.

“No- “ you gasp at the intrusion. “Was- was my high school gym teacher. Cheated on his wife with me in the girls locker room during lunch hour.”

Shane couldn’t help the laugh that left his mouth at your confession. Vibrating against your own lips. And you smile because he’s amused. But you aren’t joking. And it’s really not that funny. Truly wasn’t your proudest moment.

“Now that, I believe.”

You’re done talking, so you pull his smile against your own and whimper into his mouth. His fingers already pumping slowly inside of you. Finding your sweet spot with ease. Making your bare toes curl against the cool tile.

From the moment you woke up, you’ve needed this. Needed to come. All over his fingers. His cock would be ideal, but he told you no already. They all came to an agreement. Daryl, Rick and him. Said it was “crossing a line” or some bullshit. As if finger fucking your best friends daughter while he’s flipping burgers on the back deck isn’t.

“Please, Shane- need you so bad-” you whine against his lips. Hips involuntarily bucking into his hand.

“Fuck, baby-” you know he’s trying to hold back.

“Just-uh,” he groans, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your panties down in one swift motion. Taking your right thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

Your hands tangle in his hair at the feeling of his mouth on your cunt. His hands are under your dress, nails digging into your ass and pulling you even closer. The warm slickness of his tongue moving up and down on your clit. Pleasure swirls in your stomach and silent whimpers escape your swollen lips.

“Taste so fucking good-” he groans against you, bringing two fingers up and teasing your entrance. Leaking with arousal and spit. Absolutely begging to be filled. To be fucked.

“Ohmygod,” you moan, pressure building in your core as he curls his fingers. Sucking and lapping at your clit, like he just can’t get enough.

“Gonna come, Shane-” you tell him, hands tightening their grip on his dark locks. Your left leg is starting to tremble, and you’re climax is approaching much quicker then you were hoping. Thanks to his tongue replicating what you can only assume feels just like heaven.

And right when that tight, hot band in your core feels like it’s about to snap, you feel the wood behind you move, and hear the door handle rattle. Someone trying to use the bathroom that had thankfully been locked in between frenzied kisses and grabby hands.

“Occupied!” You squeak, eyes widening at the interruption. Your heart practically skipping a beat at the prospect of being caught.

You feel Shane’s movements halt to a stop, big, brown eyes looking up at you from between your legs.

“Shit. sorry, sweets.” You’re father’s deep voice carries through the door, and a cheeky grin forms on Shane’s handsome face. Once the footsteps retreat down the hall, he puts his index finger to his lips and shushes you. Be quiet, baby.

“Keep going-” your voice is hushed and shaky. Desperately unashamed to be begging for his mouth. His fingers. His nose, and how amazing it feels grinding against your pulsing clit. And wether he heard your pleas or not, he obliged.

You raise you hand to your mouth and bite down on the fleshy side of your palm, silencing the sounds you both know you can’t contain. And you’re close again in a moments time. Eyes rolling back and hips jutting forward. Muscles aching already.

Oh my god.

“Don’t stop, please, please, please-” you beg him for your orgasm. And he gives it to you. Coaxing it out of you with his mouth and his fingers. Feeling a warm wave of pleasure erupt from your cunt, going up your stomach and down your things. And you bite your lip trying not to moan but it feels way too good and you can’t help it.

Not that Shane minded.

“Fuck.” You whisper, core twitching as he pulls his sopping digits out of you. Looking you right in the eye as he kisses your clit, one last torturous time, before he takes your panties, pulls them back up and fixes your dress. He washes his hands as you catch your breath, still leaning against the door. Face flushed when you see him smirking at you through the mirror.

“Think you can behave the rest of the night?”

You nod eagerly, “Yes.”

“Good. Now go back out there and pretend you didn’t just come all over my fingers, alright? Have a drink, eat some food. Be a good girl for us.”

You left the bathroom before him, checking that the coast was clear before slipping outside and eyeing the open spot still next to Rick. He notices you immediately and holds up a red solo cup, cold condensation already dripping down the plastic.

“Made you a drink,” he hands it to you as you sit next to him, the side of your thigh flush with his, keeping him extra close. And before his arm can make its way back around your shoulder, his eyebrows pinch together in a confused scowl.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, inspecting your dopey expression.

“Hm?” You look at him as innocently. Clearly still little dazed from your trip to the washroom.

Rick’s face twitches when he notices. Your thighs are actually trembling. Already sore from keeping yourself standing on one foot, while coming hard on another man’s face only moments earlier.

Rick’s palm flattens on your thigh, pushing it into the seat and halting it’s shakiness.

“Really?”

“What?” You ask, voice sweet as honey.

“You know what.”

“I- I tried to take you upstairs n’ you got all grumpy-” you stutter, trying to defend your sinful actions.

“I said later.”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. And you’re a little surprised to feel a jolt between your legs at his jealousy. How hot it is that he’s a little mad. A little… possessive.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper in his ear, tucking yourself in closer to his side, sipping the drink he made you. “Can make it up to you. Promise.”

He rolls his eyes. Annoyed and jealous and irritated that it wasn’t him who had his way with you in the bathroom, so well that it made your legs shake. But regardless of his hostility, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in against his warm body. And you notice that his grip tightens when Shane walks by, giving you a charming smile and a flirty nod.

Annoyed and defeated, Rick sighs and leans in. Close enough that his lips brush your ear.

“Alright. Upstairs. Now.”

part 3

-

(Daryl’s part will be next… hope you all enjoyed💗)

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker @whatthefuuuck

#twd fanfiction #smut #shane walsh fanfiction #shane walsh #shane walsh smut #shane walsh x you #shane walsh x reader #Shane Walsh x y/n #dbf!rick #dbf!shane #dbf!daryl #dads best friend!trope #pick your poison

[hxney-lemcn]

Affections + First Kiss — General! Scarecrow, Riddler, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Catwoman x gn! reader

summery: affection and first kiss headcanons.

tw: mentions of abuse (physical and verbal), mentions of toxic dynamics

a/n: I've never wrote headcanons for multiple characters in one thing before, so enjoy! I love them all.

wc: 2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Scarecrow

❥Jonathan wasn’t used to a kind touch. Being bullied growing up, being beaten by the bat. No, all he knew was the harsh touch of a fist. The relentless shoves. The purpling of bruises that always showed after. The red blood that would drip from his nose. The burning hatred that steadily grew towards those who wronged him.

❥So when you came into his life, he would flinch if you raised a hand. He would unconsciously back away. The warmth in his heart that you stirred was unusual to him, a feeling he’s never felt towards anyone. He was used to the bitterness after an interaction, not longing. 

❥You eased him into it. Only when you two started dating did he ever think twice about your touch. He knew you held back your affections. He watched you lift a hand up, only to bring it back down to your side. And to Jon, that meant the world. He felt relief when you didn’t push him into uncomfortable territory, and he respected you all the more for it.

❥Although a part of him wished you would hold him. Touch him. He wondered if your skin felt as soft as it looked. Though he also feared that your touch would sting, and the comfort you brought would be no more. No, he would never reach out first.

❥Starting out slow, he let you hold his shoulder. No matter how careful you’ve been for however long, you slipped slightly. It was a gesture not many think twice about. Holding onto someone's shoulder as you look over them, holding onto them for balance. It was only when you felt him tense under you, his ramblings pausing, that you realized your mistake. Yet, Jon had only reassured you that you did nothing wrong. 

❥Having realized that Jon seemed to open your touch, you continued. Lightly brushing your hands, shoulder touches, even just sitting closer. It was like you were single handedly rewiring Jon’s brain, teaching him that not all touch hurts. That he too deserves a kind hand. The flinching had dulled, and he would even look forward to you being near him. 

❥So when you finally got to kiss him? He was a dead man. You got him hook line and sinker. I hope you weren’t expecting to leave him any time soon, because after you opened him into a world of warm affection, he doesn’t want to let go. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Riddler

❥Touch is a big no no. Similar to Jonathan, Edward had been bullied from a young age. Teased and ridiculed, shoved and hit. If not from his peers, then from his own father. His world was cruel for as long as he could remember. In fact, his brain started to warp, perceiving the hits as a form of love, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

❥Edward Nygma is a touch starved man. He longs for the comforts others seem to get so seamlessly. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t want anyone touching him. Tap his shoulder if you dare.

❥You were no different, at first. You quickly caught on to his distaste of touch when he reprimanded someone for getting a little too friendly with him. But you managed to weasel your way into his estranged heart. With how respectful and kind you were, he quickly found himself ensnared with your affection. Even hands free you managed to boost his ego and make him feel, should he dare say, loved for. You gave him praise that he had longed for, which earned you a seat right by his side.

❥It was also partly to keep a closer eye on you. Part of him preened at your praise, and another was weary. Why were you so kind? He was a well known criminal, he knew better than to just believe you were doing it out of the kindness of your heart. Y’know the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

❥I honestly don’t know how you deal with it. He always tries to catch you off guard with a riddle or puzzle. He pushes you away by ridiculing you and belittling you. Yet you won’t stop. You keep spilling his praises, and it’s so baffling to him. Yes, he is the smartest man in the world, but you managed to become a riddle. Good luck now.

❥When you first touched him, it was an innocent hug. He had managed to pull off a heist and got away from Batman without a scratch! Of course he had no doubts about his success, you didn’t either. When he got back to the hideout, you were clapping while singing his praises. Edward felt on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his veins. When your arms wrapped around him, your scent clouding his thoughts, your warmth leaching into him, he found himself reciprocating.

❥Now, whether your dating or you’re just friends, it matters little to the green clad man. You had given him a taste of a touch he’s always longed for. And he realized that he’s more comfortable around you than he’d like to admit. He never reaches out first, but he’ll never turn you down if you want to hold his arm. 

❥His teasing towards you turns lighter, just as his heart feels. So when you finally seal the deal with a kiss, he’ll make sure you never slip through his fingers. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Harley Quinn

❥She will smother you with affection right out the bat. Hugs, hand holding, kisses, you name it. You don’t even have to date her for her to leave a smooch on your lips. Harley Quinn easily trusts people, and you’re no exception. She finds comfort in touch, so why should she deny herself it? She also finds it expresses her genuine affection for you in ways she couldn’t verbalize. 

❥If you don’t like PDA, please tell her right away. She doesn’t understand it, I mean why wouldn’t you want to show your love to the world? But she also doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you wanna keep it behind closed doors, she’ll try her best. But don’t be too surprised if she sneaks in a little smooch or hug if no one’s looking.

❥Harley Quinn is one of the most affectionate rogues out there. But it’s not always sunshine and rainbows with her. She had been in a seriously abusive relationship, and you have to help her remember that she doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around you. That no matter the argument, you won’t raise your hand to strike her. It takes her a long time to come out of that headspace, if ever. It’s a good thing you’re by her side to help coax her into healthier practices. 

❥If we want to get a little darker, Harley may try to treat you like the Joker treated her. It’s scary to see her go from bubbly to dark. Her features twisted into a wicked sneer as she asks that you’ll never leave her. That no matter what, you’ll always love her. During these moments, you gotta stand up for yourself. She’s trying to gain a sense of control she never felt in her previous relationship, and you have to make her snap out of it. When she comes to and realizes what she just did, the look of utter terror in her eyes is the most heart wrenching thing. She’ll sob, pleading that she didn’t mean to, that she never wanted you to go through that, that she’s terrified of becoming him.

❥Please hug her, kiss her, squeeze her gently. She loves it. All Harley wants is to be loved and to love, and getting affection shows her how genuine you are and is the biggest comfort for her. Feeling your warmth, feeling the softness of your skin, it brings her peace. 

❥The first time you made the first move to kiss Harley, she nearly did a backflip. Her little sugar plum made the first move! I hope you didn’t have anything planned, because Harley won’t let you go for the rest of the day.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Poison Ivy

❥I’m not sure how you weren’t just killed or turned into one of her goons. She’s not one for humanity. She keeps a sharp eye on those who dare tread into her territory. There’s no way to beat around it. She drugs you, finding out what your true intentions are. It has to be something she deems worthy enough to keep you around. She barely puts up with Harley as it is. 

❥Once you gain your free will again, you have to continuously prove your loyalty. Of course she can guarantee it herself if she has to, but you’ve managed to catch her eye. So prove your worth to her, prove that her interest in you isn’t just a mistake. It will take a long time. She’s been wronged one too many times, and she won’t make that mistake again.

❥Even if you manage to gain her trust, she won’t drop her walls around you. Though she’s a bit nicer. Ivy knows that a person works better with praise, but she also means it deep down. She doesn’t say what she doesn’t mean, so don’t take her words for granted. Not that you really can when her perfume scent always seems to cloud your senses. 

❥You let Ivy make the first move when it comes to touch. For a seductress, she won’t touch you if she doesn’t have to. Not to mention the toxins that fill her blood. Who knew if one tap on her shoulder meant your certain doom…but maybe that was a bit of the thrill you loved when being by her side. Though you’ve seemed to find a small soft spot in her heart, right next to Harley Quinn. She wouldn’t tell you that though, best to leave you on your toes lest you get too comfortable. 

❥After going so long without a single touch from the green goddess, when she started playing with your hair, you found yourself seizing up. Ivy brushed her fingers through it so gently, yet all you could wonder is if it was finally over. If she grew bored of you, or if she started to find you bothersome. But her gentle reassurances lulled you. Her warm voice and gentle hands relaxed you. It was then that you realized her affections for you ran deeper than she led on.

❥You’re first kiss was electrifying. That underlying thrill that your life was held in her hands. That she killed men with the very action she committed tenderly with you. Yet deep down you knew she wouldn’t hurt you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Catwoman 

❥It's not easy catching her attention. She won’t settle for less than perfection. She is catwoman after all, she has a reputation to uphold. So when she looked at you, and I mean really looked at you, she decided why not have a little fun? Whether you’re a villain, anti-hero, vigilante, or civilian, she’ll take time out of her busy schedule to drop by.

❥She likes to give mixed signals. It keeps you far enough for her to feel in control, yet it also satiates her hunger. She’ll lean in real close, only to grab something from behind you type of beat. She loves to watch you become a stuttering mess, but she doesn’t mind if you banter back. It’s all a part of the fun.

❥No matter how close you seem to get, you’re somehow still a mile away from Selina. She slips away from your affection without you even realizing it. She always turns the moment into a suggestive one. If she left it tender, then it would be too real. It takes time for her to warm up to you and really trust you.

❥If anything, the first kiss happens before anything truly tender. The kiss catches you both off guard, neither sure who started it. Selina tries to wrap it into something that doesn’t make her heart stutter. Tries to turn it suggestively like she always does, but with the way you tenderly hold her cheeks, she feels herself melt. Finally, she succumbs to these feelings you managed to stir within her, and she isn’t sure if she wants to thank you or curse you out. Maybe she’ll settle for a dinner, tab on you of course.

#scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x reader #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #harley quinn x reader #poison ivy x reader #catwoman x reader #selina kyle x reader #pamela isley x reader #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #scarecrow #jonathan crane #riddler #the riddler #edward nygma #edward nashton #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #catwoman #selina kyle #cat woman #x reader #dc x reader #gotham rogues x reader #imagine #headcanon

[alwritey-aphrodite]

I am begging for any kind of crumbs related to the arranged marriage to Sejanus head cannons please 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Our boy is so smitten <3

Here’s the first part

The more time Sejanus spends with you, the more he can picture your life together. He’s definitely getting ahead of himself, and he doesn’t even know if you have any feelings for him that extend beyond platonic, but he can’t help but fall a little bit in love with you every time he sees you.

The academy students are well known for their teasing and gossip, even if you’d think the best and brightest of Panem would have better things to do than talk about each other all day long. Lately, you and Sejanus have seemed to be the topic of choice, word spreading fast from the rumor mill that is the mothers of the Capital.

Having spent all your life with these kids, you let their comments roll off your back, Sejanus is sensitive, every little quip like a knife to his heart.

“The day Arachne and Festus make me upset is the day that I disappear forever,” you’d told him once, practically dragging him alone as you stomped away from your peers, getting tired of the downcast look in Sejanus’s eyes. All he could focus on in that moment was the way your hand felt in his, and how badly he’d like for you to hold his hand more often.

While most of the time you spend together is at the academy or formal events put together by your parents, you always find an excuse to steal him away, to spend some time with just him in a manner that your parents would find unseemly.

“I know where my father keeps his liquor,” you’d whispered into his ear, and all Sejanus could focus on was the feeling of you impossibly close to him, the sensation of your voice in his ear sending a shiver down his spine. You grab his hand again, gently pulling him from the crowded room and towards your father’s study, where you definitely aren’t allowed.

“We’ll just grab it and go, I promise,” you tell him, sensing his nerves as you ease open the heavy wooden door and disappear inside. It only takes you a second before you reappear, with a bottle in your hand and the most beautiful smile Sejanus has ever seen.

You don’t grab his hand again, even though he wishes you would, but you lead him from the house all the same, passing by your typical spots to make sure no one stumbling from the house will catch the two of you. Passing through a grove of trees, you arrive in a clearing where it would be practically impossible for anyone to find you. Sejanus’s stomach is in knots, a mix of fear of being caught and anxiety at being alone with you.

It’s not that you’re rude or mean or anything like that, you’re almost too lovely for Sejanus to handle. Even before your parents decided to marry you off, you’d always been sweet to Sejanus, sticking up for him against the rest of your peers and going out of your way to make sure he’s feeling alright. It doesn’t help that you’re exceptionally smart and stunningly beautiful, leaving Sejanus reeling every time you look at him.

Now, when you smile at him, a triumphant grin with the liquor bottle in your hand and the moonlight shining across your face, Sejanus could swear he’s never seen anything half as pretty as you. He’d tell you if he wasn’t so nervous, if his voice didn’t get caught in his throat every time he tried to say anything.

Popping off the cap, you take a swig from the bottle before passing it to Sejanus, barely giving him time to process the fact that you’re essentially kissing before holding your hand out for the bottle again. He drinks as quickly as he can, pulling a face as the liquor burns his throat. You laugh, and as much as he wants to join you, his body racks with a cough, only making you laugh harder, liquid sloshing out from the open bottle in your hand.

“Are you trying to poison me?” He asks once he’s recovered, smiling at the way your eyes crease as you take another pull from the bottle.

“We’d both die together, it’d be very romantic,” you take another swig before offering the bottle again, grinning when he waves it away.

Wiping the dirt off the cap, you close up the bottle and set it aside, leaning back on your hands in a way that makes your shoulder brush against Sejanus, sending sparks all across his arm. You tilt your head up to the sky, and feeling certain that he won’t get caught, Sejanus turns his own gaze over to you, admiring the slope of your nose and the curve of your jaw.

He can’t help but want to kiss you, but fearing the moment would be ruined, he settles for just looking at you in this peaceful state, committing your relaxed face to memory. He’s too busy staring to notice the way your eyes shift from the sky over to him, and when you start to smile, he just chalks it up to the liquor.

#sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth fanfiction #sejanus x reader #sejanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

The Brutality (and some censoring) Of The Rumbar Deaths.

Similar to my piece on Yorki and his lil sickness, this is again just something that haunts me constantly and is honestly something I don’t see anyone else talking about. Maybe this is because I have Rumbar Pirates autism. The deaths of the Rumbar Pirates are often thought to just be the snippet we see during their final moments, however Oda paints a much darker picture, with such dark hues the anime had to censor some of this. To begin, I am going to introduce you all to a certain Rumbar Pirate. Pirates.

This is Madaisuki! He has a twin brother named Madawadasuki Mizuta!

These Mizuta boys are named this because they are the japanese pun of “I love DOTS!” and “Dots ain’t half bad!” We know they were young, and that they wanted to be just like Brook. (I will go over these statements a bit later.) They wore matching clothing, mirroring one another as some twins do, having a tight bond. We already know their candles were snuffed out too short, but do you know how this happened to each? Madawadasuki is shown in the Bink’s Sake flashback, blood pooling on his temple and matting some of his hair. He looks tired, but with a smile, plays on with the other remaining crew. That is the key word here, remaining. There were hundreds of men on this ship yet THIS is what we see surrounding Brook on the deck? Where are the rest. THAT is where Madaisuki comes in. 

Madaisuki does not die on screen, but his body, just the body, is gruesome enough that the anime had to censor it. When we find the young man, he is in one of the off rooms, looks to be the dining area, thrown onto the floor with his arms outstretched, with his hair still attached to the skull.

This is not the reason behind the censoring, no, the reason is the cause of death.

Plunged into his skull and back, pinning his body to the floor with his jaw still open, are his own weapons. His own swords pin his body to the floor, so even if he somehow survived the attack, he could not get up, however with your own blade through your brain case and into the blood spattered floor below you, that is not much of an option.

This leaves a few things open for the reader to take in. Why is he tucked away in an off room like this? Well, it means the battle either continued into these rooms, not just on deck, which is more than likely shown by the shattered mirrors and doors in the bedrooms and hallways we see, or poor Madaisuki was cornered, and slain.

In any case, this means his brother either also saw this and continued to smile and sing for Laboon, or held a hope that somehow, his twin was just somewhere else, tucked away to die in peace. 

This is just one body, one upon hundreds, we know this because of a line Franky states so casually I am unsure if the anime added it; “We could not carry them all, we buried them here. The weight was too much for the Sunny to take.”

The weight was too much for the Sunny to take.

How many men died, because those multiple upon multiple coffins were not filled with bodies, but skulls. Only skulls.

If the ship cannot carry it, how do we expect BROOK?? He must hold grief for he was acting Captian, these things on his head alone, and knowing he failed his partner, my god, that must ache. To know you created widows, fatherless children, families who will never know if their little boys or men or partners or fathers would come home. No closure, only Brook, and the poison that caused the remaining light-hearted musicians to bleed out in their little heap.

When Brook picks up the skull of Madaisuki, a memory comes to mind. Perhaps not a recent one, for he knew them for many years, but one that stood out to him. One Oda chose for us to see as a representation of Brook’s thoughts;

“You’re awesome, Brook! Can you teach me to swordfight like you?”

We see the body, with his own weapons used against him, holding his corpse in place with a hole blasted through his brain. His polka dots he adored are spattered as well, torn where his ribcage was cut open. Brook failed him. He failed them all, in his eyes, not the viewer or actuality. And this breaks my heart.

#these men had no idea the brutality of pirates #there was no one piece #we are the Rumbar pirates #here to put a smile on every child’s face #they were just sweethearts #and they were GUTTED #one piece #rumbar pirates #brook #calico Yorki #mizuta twins #character analysis #the Rumbar pirates #anime #their Motto was LITERALLY #character death

[ultralightpoe]

Salt the Earth Behind You- Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: I’m back with another Aemond fic.  MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND THE AEMOND TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN SO LET ME KNOW! ENJOY!

Warnings: heavy language, angst, reader is engaged to an old man sadly. 

Word Count: 4052 (Yeahhhh. Buckle in Bitches)

Description: Friendships ruined in moments of anger. 

Part Two : And Let The Blood Bind You 

Salt the earth behind you: To poison any future 

            The soft mud of the earth below the carriage swallows your shoe as you step down from the exit, using your betrothed’s hand as leverage to not fall. This would already be embarrassing enough, you did not need to walk into the throne room caked in mud. 

          Verlain Stark, cousin to Cregan Stark, flashed you a wide smile as he helped you. His hand gripped yours for a second too long before you felt yourself snatching it back, doing your best to keep the easy smile you had glued to your face since the start of the engagement. 

            The man was well over the age of suitor you wanted, three times your own age, but it had been set up by your father. A way to unite his land with the Starks and a way to get rid of his plain daughter all in one go. Who was anyone kidding? Verlain was the only man who would want your hand and you were lucky he could barely see. 

           “I must say, I find it odd that my betrothed and I have to come all the way down here just for the queens approval.” He smiles, leaning in so that you may smell the fresh stench of overly boozed vomit on his breath. “Never had to do that with my first 3 wives.”

              That’s right, Verlain Stark had outlived 3 wives, a surprising feat considering each time he married the younger they got. The first died in childbirth, the babe a stillborn. The second wife jumped from her window. The third…. Well the third had her throat split open in the dead of night. She too was pregnant. 

               “Lady Alicent was very protective of me in my time here, I am very thankful for her care.” You say softly, the collar of your dress digging into your throat. The dresses in Winterfell were far from comfortable and refused to show any skin. 

               It was true, you were thankful for your time at the Red Keep, you just wished it hadn’t ended in such heartbreak for you. 

                      You had been taken in as Queen Alicents ward, out of the kindness of her heart after your dear mother passed away in childbirth, your father having no idea what to do with you. 

                The day you landed in Kings Landing you had been so nervous, clinging to your fathers hand as he pushed you off. You were scared and everyone was staring at you like you were a freak. 

             “Aw. This must be the dearest Y/n….” The Queen gushes, reaching for you softly. “Come little one, you must meet my children. I have a son a year older than you.”

              Within an instant you were surrounded by a group of gorgeous white haired children, all circling you.  “Children, this is Lady Y/n. She is to be taken in as my ward. Aegon! Hands off!”

             The tallest of the three snatches his hand back with an eye roll, sauntering off. The girl barely says a word before going back to her insects. That left the shorter boy, standing there with his hands behind his back, waiting for his mother to introduce him patiently. 

             “Y/n, this is my youngest…. Aemond.” She smiles, leaving to discuss some matters with your father. You stood as straight as possible, afraid to make the wrong move and anger someone.  

             “You can breathe you know,” The boy chuckles, imitating a deep breath in to make you imitate it. 

                “You’re a Targaryen.” You say softly, desperate to start a conversation only to feel like a fool the second the words fall from your lips. “I mean, that was blatant, everyone knows that. I apologize for stating the obvious, my prince.” 

               “I don’t have a dragon if that is what you meant.” He sneers, eyes narrowing. 

             “What does it matter if you have a dragon?” You ask, hands clenched together in anxiety. “I…I apologize if I have offended you..” 

               You picked up your skirts and rush to your maid as quick as possible, desperate for the comfort of someone you knew. 

               “Come, Lady Y/n.” Verlain calls, getting one of his men to shove you forward as you had been stuck in your head. “Your father is quite persistent on seeing you before our meeting with the King and Queen.” 

              You nod and turn to your maid, who had been glaring at the soldier that shoved you forward in your honor, she instantly grabs your arm and leads you to where your old rooms had been while you stayed here some time ago. 

               “You must stop biting your lip Lady Y/n,” She whispers as you blush. “It is unseemly for a lady to bleed. The lord should think you disgusting.” 

               You fight the urge to roll your eyes at that, heavens above you seem disgusting to that old man. 

               You’re caught off guard by a feeling on the back of your neck, your spine going tense. “He’s here….”

                It had been an odd gift, the ability to sense whenever Aemond Targaryen was near you, but it had come in handy. 

                “Who is, my lady?” Your maid leans forward as you snatch her hand and drag her away from the courtyard, desperate to escape him. 

               Aemond seemed to not care that you offended him on your first meeting, for he soon became your best friend. 

             You spent every afternoon together after that first day. You would listen about his day at the dragonpit, listen to him talk about all the different sorts of dragons. He would bring you books, stolen from the royal library and would ask you about them constantly. 

           Within weeks you found yourself craving his attention, always looking for him in a crowd of people and always searching for him at parties. 

          “Lady Y/n!” He calls, running down the hall covered in black smoke. “I came close to a dragon today. A FULLY GROWN DRAGON!”

              Your entire body was locked up with dread as Aemond barged between you and the male you had been introduced to that morning. “Prince Aem-”

              You tried to stop the prince as the older man stared down at you with a glare. “Prince Aemond, this is Lord Henric….. He is meeting me as a suitor today.”

               “This old man?” He snaps, eyes so wide you have to stop yourself from laughing. “No. Come on. We will be talking with my mother.”

             He left no room for argument, grabbing your arm and storming off. Your maid, who had been there as a chaperone, follows closely with a shocked expression. 

                  Once you escape the hall you tear your arm away, tears pouring from your eyes. “You fool!”

                He looks taken aback for a moment before reaching for your arm once more, you take two steps back. “Aemond! I have been here for 2 years! Your mother, kind as she is, will not take me as a ward much longer.”

                 “What are you talking about?”

                   “I’m plain!” You snap. “My father says it, everyone else knows it. I am a plain and boring girl with no redeemable qualities that would help me score a match. Your mother is doing her best to obtain me a match before any of these men realize just how ugly I am and here you come ruining it!”

              The anger written on his face is actually terrifying as steps closer. “You are not plain! Your father has no idea what he is speaking about! And if he were here I would carve out his tongue.”

                You don’t respond, sobbing as you turn to walk away from him, hands shaking as you think on how disappointed the Queen will be once she realizes the suitor would not propose. 

               “Y/n.” Aemond calls desperately, chasing after you. “We will find you a suitor. Once that isn’t two steps from death. I swear it. I swear it on my grave and any future dragon I might claim.” 

                “Your betrothed is quite…….” You try not to laugh as your maid tries to come up with the proper term for the older man. 

              He had talked the entire journey, and whereas you had to pretend to be interested in an effort to keep his attention your maid was miserable. The poor chaperone. 

                “He is…. Talkative.” You nod, heat traveling your body as you tug at the overly warm dress. “But I can't risk another suitor mishap. This is my last chance. My father has run out of patience.”

             Not that he ever had patience to begin with, he was constantly angered by his ‘plain daughter’.  

               “Would you like to change into a more comfortable dress, my lady?”

                “No. I have none. I must wear Winterfell dresses, to show my allegiance.” You sigh, walking away from her to prepare to see your father before you face the queen. 

                 “Aegon says you love me.” Aemond blurts one day, walking with you in the gardens. You freeze, whipping to look at him, having just been caught. 

“W-what?” 

              “He says you look at me with a fucked out puppy eyed look.” Aemond sighs, turning to see where you had stopped walking.  “What’s wrong? He only said it to me, I would never let him spill such vile accusations to another.”

                 You wanted to laugh at his answer, as if that was the biggest problem right now. “Prince Aemond-”

             “Please don’t.” He stops you.  “I cannot suffer that today Lady Y/n….”

              You are embarrassed, truly. Of course he didn’t want to hear your stupid confession. He was a Targaryen and you were a plain ward. “I’m sorry, my prince.”

             He nods, moving to keep walking with you through the gardens some more. 

                Your dress was far too tight, and the headpiece braided into your hair was way too heavy on your head, the veil swinging back and forth with every movement. 

               A black veil, and a grey dress. You looked like the lady death, most people would laugh but you were trying to seem interested in the Stark world. Even if the thought of living in the land of winter sounded absolutely miserable. 

               “You look…..decent, daughter” Your father greets, avoiding your gaze as me moves to greet your betrothed, a smile spreading onto his features. 

                Bile rises in your throat as embarrassment fills you. How plain and disappointing were you really?

            You held onto Aemonds hand on the boat, watching Aegon and Helaena ride above you on their dragons. He grasps your hand tightly as you flinch at a wave of wind that hit you when Aegon flew too close. 

             “When I get a dragon you’ll have to get used to them.” He laughs, watching you swallow in worry. “You’ll be riding the dragon with me.” 

            “I don’t think that would be allowed, My prince.” You blush, fighting the smile threatening to unfold.  

           “I’m the prince. I would make it allowed.” He argues, bringing you closer. “Now read to me, take my attention off the death of my cousin.”

             You opened your book once more, reading to him softly as you made your way to the funeral of Laena Velayron. 

                  Your hands shook as you made your way to the throne room, sweat covering every inch of your body while you looked dead ahead, following your betrothed. 

                  You felt like you were about to throw up, which would for sure ruin any chance at marriage with the Lord. 

               “Keep it together” You whisper to yourself, tears threatening to spill the closer you get to the throne room. “You musn’t mess this up.”

            You awoke to the heavy sound of a dragon taking off, larger than Aegons or Helaenas. Jumping off your bed and running to the window, expecting to see Syrax or Caraxes you see Vhagar taking off into the clouds. 

            Your heart jumps through your throat, excitement to go find Aemond and tell him you had just witnessed the biggest dragon in the world take off. Slipping on your sleeping shoes and taking off through the halls of Driftmark, desperate to find Aemond. 

                  You find him in the tunnels of Driftmark, air a mess and tunic distorted, a wild look in his eyes. It took you a moment to realize what had happened, panic clawing at your throat. 

“Y/n! You will never believe -”

“Aemond….. What have you done?” You whisper, watching as his face falls. 

          “It’s you!” Baela snaps from behind you, the group of them shoving you aside as they face Aemond. 

           He watched you fall to the ground before turning to the four of them. “It’s me.”

             “Vhagar is my mothers dragon!”

             “Your mother’s dead.” Aemond states calmly. “And Vhagar has a new rider now.”

“She was mine to claim!” 

             “Then you should have claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.” He smirks, not bothering to make sure you got up. 

              Within moments the girl was running up, hitting him, to which your bestfriends snaps back harshly. Then the brawl insued. 

                  All four of them against him, but Aemond held his own for a moment, as you tried pushing through to help. When Jace pulled the knife he slashed your hand and wrist to move you out of the way, a scream tearing through your throat as he slashed up Aemonds face. 

              Aemond bellowed in pain, hands flying up to his face as his blood flew. You instantly reach to help him, the blood from your hand mixing with his own as you cling to him. 

             Screaming for help as he tried to pull away from you. 

               The scar on your arm, left from the night Vhagar had been claimed, itched terribly under the fur of the dress you now wore. You fought the urge to fidget as your father introduced the courtship to the Queen, who had taken to sit on the throne instead of standing by it. 

                  To the left of the throne stood her three children, all older in age and all still exceptionally beautiful. Aemond, now with an eyepatch and death glare, had not taken his eyes off your figure upon entering. Not that it mattered, he couldn’t see your face with the veil over it, a proper respect to your betrothed. 

               Alicent seemed hesitant upon looking at you, a twist in her eyebrows told her she was doing her best to see through the veil to look upon you. 

               “We are very grateful that Lord Verlain had asked for my daughters hand in marriage, and hope that the crown will permit it-” Your father states, kneeling with his head bowed. You were kneeling behind him, right next to the old man who seemed to have struggled getting into his knees for the Queen. 

            “As they permitted his first…. How many was it?” Aemond starts, a dark tone to his voice. “Three marriages?” 

              “Aemond.” The queen corrects him, casting a look to where he stood. 

              “I’ve never actually had to come and get permission.” Verlain laughs, still struggling in the position he was in. “I found it quite odd myself, considering my first wives weren’t so……plain. Yet this one drew the attention of the crown.”

           Plain. There that word was again.   The only word you’ve ever really heard to describe you…. That and the ones Aemond screamed at you that night. 

             “YOU DID NOTHING!” Aemond screams, shoving you slightly as your eyes well up in tears. 

                 You had come to check on him, desperate to make sure he was okay. You hadn’t been allowed into the room as he got his stitches, sent to your rooms immediately so the family may deal with their private matters. 

                “Aemond….they didn’t let me in with you. I swear it.” You defend, taking a step closer, desperate to touch him. His face was swollen and red.

                “That is not what I am talking about and you know it! You insufferable bitch!” He shouts and you rear back. “You let them do this to me! You are against me!”

“I’m not! Aemond I swear it!”

“I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID WHEN I WENT TO TELL YOU ABOUT VHAGAR!”

“I was shocked-”

“Then you let them do this to me!”

“I tried to stop it-”

“WHO WILL WANT ME NOW?!”

“What do you mean?”

                “Who will want to marry me now?! No one is able to look at me!” He sobs and you try to contain your sobs. 

                   “I…… I would.” You whisper, the sudden braveness shocking you. 

             “I’m sorry?” 

              “I…. I would marry you Aemond.” You say, a little louder. 

            He stares at you for a moment, shock written on his features before his face molds into anger, a dry laugh escaping him. “You?......YOU?”

              You take a step back, throat tightening as the tears fall freely now. Aemond is quick to notice the weakness, taking advantage. 

                 “Is that what I’m stuck with now? The plain cunt that let them maim me?” He steps forward and you take another step back. “I’m ugly…. But even then you would not be of my standard. A lowborn, boring, fucktoy.” 

              You can’t hear anymore, rushing past him to run back to your rooms, sobbing aggressively. 

                  Your maid cleans the wound, humming softly to ease your sobs as she does so. The next morning you sit by yourself on the ship, the queen and king hidden in the alcove as you are exposed to the wind of the sea surrounded by the crewman. 

                   Aemond flies over the ship, followed by his two siblings. All the dragons roar loudly as you turn away, tears falling as you stifle the sobs. 

            “What a charming way to describe your future wife-” Aemond snaps, taking a quick step forward only to be stopped by the hand, who also happened to be his grandfather. 

             You tried not to scoff at the comment, as if he hadn’t said worse to you. 

                 “I must say…. It has been so so long since I’ve gotten to see your face my dearest Y/n….”Alicent says softly, leaning forward. “Might you bless us by lifting your veil?”

                      Your shoulders tense as you nod slowly, moving to lift the veil up. Your hands shook as you pulled it back, finally coming face to face with the royal family. 

              You hear a soft gasp and turn to see Aemond staring at you, eye wide as his back straightens. 

               You whip your head away, turning back to the queen who is already staring at you. 

                    “Y/n…..” She says softly, staring at you as you shake in fear in front of her. 

                     “I’M SO SORRY YOUR MAJESTY!” You sob, falling to the rug beneath you, shaking from fear. 

               Things had been different since you got back, especially with the queen. She had been silent for 3 weeks, constantly biting at her nails and muttering about fairness. 

             You had avoided Aemond like the plague, every time you catch sight of him you would turn the opposite direction.His siblings would take his side so they were out of the question and everyone else at the court treated you like you were a peasant. 

You were lonely, and tired. 

                  You hadn’t spoken to anyone but your maid in awhile. Which led you to go to the queen, begging for her to let you go home. Begging. 

               She smiles at you, standing from the throne and coming down the steps, grabbing both sides of your face lovingly. “There you are….”

              “It is an honor to see you again, your majesty.” You whisper, trying not to bite at your lip. 

        “It is quite a pain to have to say bye to my old ward, I’m sure you understand Lord Verlain.” She chuckles, turning to the man. “You must give me time to see more of the union before I give my blessings.”

              “I understand completely, your majesty.” He snipes, his entire posture telling that he was lying. 

                “We shall feast with you tonight! It is settled.” She claps, walking away. 

             You move to help your betrothed stand, avoiding a look to the royal children as he shoves you back the second he stands.  “I’m beginning to debate if you are worth it, child.”

               He storms off, your father hissing at you as he chases after the man to ease the tension. You move to follow, hands clenching in fear as you imagine him calling off the engagement.

               “Wait! Lady Y/n!” You hear from behind you, the sound of steps quickly following your own.  “Please wait.”

                  You don’t turn, but you do wait, standing still as he walks up. The prince stands behind you for a moment before realizing that you would not be turning or looking up. 

                     He bends down to meet your gaze, walking around until he was in front of you. “I must say, you have grown.”

              “So have you, my prince.” You say softly, avoiding his gaze as he struggles to find it. “If you would excuse me, I should really go check on my-”

               “May I escort you through a walk in the gardens?” He interrupts, jaw clenched as he holds his elbow out. 

               You really have no choice, to refuse the prince would be an insult. So instead of speaking, you simply nod and grab his extended elbow for him to lead you to the gardens. 

                  You don’t say a word as you fix your veil, so that you wouldn’t have to look at him, following his lead. 

                 “D-do….do you remember all our times in the gardens?” He asks, a nervous tone filling the air as he clears his throat. 

                  “I do indeed, My Prince.” You state simply, jumping a little when his other hand reaches up to hold yours where it was placed in his elbow. When you go to pull away his hand grips onto yours a little tighter, interlocking your fingers with his.

              “Tell me about all the books you’ve been reading.” He demands, sounding excited for a moment, waiting patiently. 

                       “I….. I actually….. I haven’t read in some time.” You admit. “It is not suitable for a young women to waste her time-”

          “Says. Who.” He snaps, stopping you from walking. 

                   “I’m a woman now, Prince Aemond. I must, to procure a future, focus on things that would help that future.” Your voice is tense, fighting the urge to cry as you struggle to pull your hand away. But he doesn’t let you, instead pulling your hand to sit flat on his chest.  “Aemond please…. Someone could think this unseemly.”

                   “Finally, my fucking name without that stupid title.” He laughs, reaching the hand that wasn’t holding yours up to snatch the veil off of you. “And there she is… finally.”

                  You stay quiet as you move to walk away, trying to escape, but he pulls you back aggressively.

               “What do I have to do?” He snaps, jaw tensing. “To get you to speak to me-”

“I am speaking to you-”

                    “Y/n please!” He tugs you to the side, away from the chance of anyone seeing you both argue. “Please.. I haven’t seen you in years-”

“I needed to go home-”

                       “You avoided me after that night, I tried to talk to you but you always disappeared out of my sight-” 

              “I WONDER WHY AEMOND!” You scream, shoving him away. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

                 “Ruin what? You would have to have something to actually ruin.”

              “You know what I mean.”

               “Don’t do this. This is not….. He. Will. Kill. You.”

               You scoff, turning to rush away but he is quick to dive in front of you. “I have known you since we were children and I know that you are not foolish enough to marry a man with THREE DEAD WIVES!”

“Stop.”

                “You don’t read. You haven’t smiled. You…… You look two steps away from jumping out a tower like his second wife. And I refuse to let that happen.” He snarls, eye wild as he leans in. “I refuse to lose you like that.”

              “Leave me alone Aemond.” You seethe, shoving him back. “This is my job. Remember? To be the boring little fucktoy? So. Let. Me. Be.” 

                You rush away from him, breathing heavy as the tears fall again, the scar on your arm burning. 

                  Aemond watches you go, the veil he had torn away from you clutched tightly in his hand.

Should I do another part?

TAG LIST: 

@Schniiipsel

@Sluttyaemond

@Lovelynerdytraveler

@Rosaryos

@Bbyhangman

@Winxschester

@Neenieweenie

@anthonys-viscountess​

@Ggglitch-exe

@Shnadaidas

@Gaisse-blog

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #House of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine

[jomamaofficial]

The Chronicles of A Hero's Daughter pt.2 (Father!All Might and Daughter!Reader Angst Oneshot)

A/N: SO, THIS WAS ASKED IN MY ASK BOX. BUT I STUPIDLY REPLIED TO IT SO I DON'T KNOW WHICH ANON ASKED FOR IT SO I'M JUST GOING TO TAG EVERYONE WHO LIEKD THAT POST HERE AND HOPE IT'S THE BRILLIANT ANON WHO WANTED ME TO WRITE A PART 2. @dark-magic-phoenix @crystal-freak24 @observaureium @justtovi3w62. As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :). TW: Graphic descriptions of blood (coughing blood), graphic imagery of crushing a heart (doesn't happen, just explained) CW: difficult father-daughter dynamics. Taglist: @thatcatladywrites @smikys-stuff @kimberlyfletcher @dawnwriterimagines Masterlist Word Count: 1951. Summary: One argument led to another– the foundation of your family was built upon suffering and sacrifice. Secrets were unveiled, revealing the true intentions of your father, the lingering wounds of the past stinging harder than any cut has ever. With tension reaching a breaking point, what happens when you confront your father, searching for the harsh truth, even if it leads to a devastating decision– you will never be the same again. He will never be the same again. 

——————————————————————————————————

Toshinori’s chest rose and fell. 

“You don’t mean that…” 

A pang struck through your heart as your father’s laboured breaths increased, tailing off in steady wheezes that only grew louder. 

“Dad…” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Dad, I didn’t m-”

Your voice cracked, succumbing to the hot tears which burned against your cheeks. Emotions flooded your head, as though they had been waiting to escape from the dam of truth that you had to silence to protect the peace in your family. The pressure had built up and that dam had finally broken in the most irreparable way possible. 

Shame hammered your mind, delivering blunt throbs as you watched your dad clutching his frail chest in agony. 

Guilt drilled poison into your veins as your father struggled to stand up– his sickly body unable to bear this pressure. His airways had been restricted, thus his once strong and proud chest had nothing to show but a vacant cavity, struggling to hold itself up. 

This living room had always been small– enough space just for the two of you. Dad and his little hero. It had always been you two, but today, this room was longer and narrower, as though mocking your sanity which had become a battlefield. 

Would you protect your father and carry on living in this dollhouse family, of which the  foundations were built off of your suffering.

Or would you protect yourself and destroy your relationship with the only family that you ever had.

The struggle had refused to forsake– silence had become your greatest enemy. It had left you alone with your screaming thoughts of doubt that deafened your conviction, leaving you straggled, naked, and vulnerable in the vast depths of your fears because what if. 

What if Midoriya truly was better than you? 

What if you truly were not worth it?

What if you had lost your rights to call yourself his daughter. 

Forever. 

You had lost everything to the ravenous beast which ruined everything you touched, and it wanted more. It wanted more, so it began making more noise, howling over the whispers of the wind, it howled over the ticking of the clock. It howled until nothing could be heard. 

Silence. 

Silence. 

Silence.

It had become silent. 

As though you were the only person in the room. 

A sudden thud drew your attention to the floor. 

Toshinori collapsed on the ground, and his eyes had gone blank, jaw slack. His ribs stuck out from under his skin, showing through his thin white t-shirt as his brassy cough filled his mouth with blood.

He urgently covered his mouth with his hands, forcing it shut but to no avail. It had already slipped past his hold, travelling down his neck, staining his shirt. A constant offender.

Your father began developing bloody coughs over three years ago. Yet every time you saw his chest heave and bleed, surges of nausea would creep up your veins, forcing you to leave. 

“Dad!” 

This was too much blood. It wasn’t meant to be like this… The doctor said a few drops or so, maybe a teaspoon, but that was ‘highly unlikely’. You watched as his white shirt became saturated, dizziness threatening to blur your vision.  

But you could not see him like this. You didn’t think twice before rushing to help him– but you were stopped. 

Toshinori raised his shaking hand immediately. You were halted, frozen in disbelief. 

He put his hand back on the floor, taking a few breaths before pushing himself, warranting another step forward from you, another cry, but he just stopped you again. You could only watch as your father relied on his bony wrists to push himself up. 

You could hear his shallow gasps for air, and his repressed coughs– and all you could do was watch your father’s face contort in fatigue and ache. Toshinori had finally gotten up, but that look had not left his face as he pushed past you. You watched the limp in his leg as he hobbled towards the couch, slowly lowering himself onto the cushioned couch. His head slumped onto the head rest, limbs unfurling in exhaustion. 

You were suspended in your head, unable to move past the questions which rung bright sirens. 

You shouldn’t have raised your voice at your own father– the doctor had told you. He’s injured, he’s getting older. He can’t process such shocks like this anymore.

What was wrong with you? 

But it couldn’t have been just your fault… right? But then he pushed you– maybe he didn’t just notice– but what if he did it on pur-

“Y/N”, your father had called for your name, but his eyes did not meet yours. 

Instead, they looked past you. 

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was five years old. 

A decade after the first quirk was discovered, many adoption agencies in Musutafu began sorting children based off of a ‘ranking system’. 

Official documents stated that this case was first brought up in the Supreme Court due to an incident that had occurred in an orphanage near Musutafu, 26 years ago. It was a heartbreaking case of manslaughter that had taken place when six year old Chihiro Onodera– Quirk: Lava, accidentally murdered eight year old Honoka Sugo– Quirk: Bubbles, during lunch time as they were play-fighting. 

It did not take much convincing as this case had reached international news, thus the court immediately passed a bill on the separation of quirks preliminary based off of their strength and danger levels, which were to be evaluated on a scale of 1 to 5. 

Nevertheless, this bill had struck a controversial match, becoming the largest contemporary topic that was disputed over in the past years. 

Demonstrations, protests and violent public outrage reached its peak when leaked intel revealed that a lot of children began to go missing from Adoption Agencies under the radar– they no longer had papers, as if their identities had been erased off of the face of this Earth. 

Nanami Tomoda, Sae Ojima, Makoto Kanezaki– these were some of the household names that had garnered petrifying national and international headlines: 

Heartbreaking Tragedy Strikes Japan: Devastating Attack Leaves Communities Reeling 

Japan in Shock: Deadly Assault Rocks Nation's Sense of Security 

Aftermath of Brutal Assault Leaves Nation Grieving Chaos and Carnage

Not much was known about these young adults. 

Apart from two things. 

First. 

They were not independent contractors. All of them could be traced back to some of the very few established, powerful, underground organisations. 

And second.

They were all orphans, rated 5, who had been declared missing for ten or more years.

Toshinori Yagi adopted Toshinori Y/N when she was rated 5. 

Toshinori Y/N lost her quirk at age ten. 

You are rated 0. 

Zero.

Toshinori took a deep breath before he spoke. 

“I have raised you since you were five years old.” He still did not meet your eyes. “I raised you in hopes that you would become a strong, and powerful young lady.” 

He drew a breath in– it was laced in disappointment. 

“But why does it feel, as though it has had no influence on you?”

Toshinori shifted both of his arms onto the couch rests, sitting tall. 

“One does not become a hero by winning every fight. Not everything is about a hero’s physical strength. A hero is made when they understand that retaliation only makes them the real villain.” 

Your father’s voice had deepened, and so did the dreadful pit in your stomach that sunk your resolve. 

“A true hero understands that strength lies in the ability to rise above the pain. Because those who focus on what has been lost”, he continued, lips twitching, as a faint, uncontrollable tremor laced his words in indisputable venomous contempt, “are either insane, or desperate for attention they know they will never get.”

Small muscles in your face began to twitch despite the heaviness that had been pulsed through your body, holding it in place, as you just stood there. Your eyes, once red and exposed, had no inhabitant, no focus. 

A ghost town. 

“A true hero is grateful. And recognises every bit of effort someone else put in order to get them to where they are now.” 

His gaunt eyes found yours, casting an unfamiliar chill in your body. They were sunken in, casting his gaze in dark shadows– an abyss impenetrable by light. 

“You got your quirk stolen, Y/N. But you cannot get that back anymore. But it’s been years, I expect at least some gratitude considering I did you a favour by adopting you.” 

He had left a clot that blocked your heart.

“Because no one else would have wanted you.”

It is always the one closest to you that hurts you the most. 

The man you called your father had waited until the last second to take the satisfaction of crushing your heart, flesh against flesh. 

Humans evolved to gain resistance and immunity against everything that threatens their survival.

Therefore, living with this man only meant that you had to gain immunity against pain and humiliation, because that was the only thing that could guarantee your survival. 

So when you shook off the heaviness in your lid and focused onto your father’s face, you could only lift the corners of your lip.  

“If you didn’t want me. Someone else would have adopted me instead. Like you did. No papers, no nothing– I’d slip under the radar, at least I’d still have my quirk, and end up on those headlines.”

“How dare you?” he uttered, face contorted in malice.

“I was five. That’s why you adopted me. Don’t deny it” 

Toshinori stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His shoulders, broad and hubris, had become small and meek. You watched him contemplate: his eyes, vindictive and daring, were cast down, hiding amongst the Tatami flooring. 

“My child…” he began, his voice softer. “After your quirk had been stolen, I could not risk making you the target again. That’s the reason I don’t come to your events. It’s because you’ll become the target everyone goes for because they know you’re my daughter”.

“They’ll know?” your lips had pressed into a thin line. “Like how Midoriya knew I was your daughter? Like how the media knows?” 

In the stifling air, your dry laughter bounced off of the discomfort. 

“Don’t act like you aren’t ashamed of me.” 

Your face had settled into a stone. 

“It’s not about me being a target. It’s about protecting your image.”

“My daughter-”

“You have lost the right to call me your daughter. If I was such a disappointment after my quirk was ripped away from me, why did you keep me? You could have sent me back. Why did you keep me, dad, why did you keep me!”

Those closest to you, leave irreparable wounds. 

But there was a reason they were close to you. A reason that subsided in love, care, and hope. 

Your crushed heart was surviving on its last breath, waiting to hear something that could revive it. 

Toshinori lifted his head again, his eyes flickering behind you. 

It locked onto an object that somehow gained more attention than you ever had in your entire life. You risked a look over your shoulder, only to see the picture of your father and Midoriya, smiling–almost mockingly– back at you. 

You knew what the answer was going to be. 

“I’m beginning to question the same thing.”

A flat-line. 

“Well if that’s how you really feel, I have no obligation to stay here anymore.”

You drew your breath in, words suspended at the tip of your tongue. 

“I wish you and your student the best of luck, All Might.”

#my hero academia x reader #boku no hero fic #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha angst #bnha x reader #angst no comfort #mha oneshot #mha oneshots #angst #angst oneshot #bnha angst #mha toshinori #my hero academia toshinori #toshinori x you #toshinori x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori yagi #all might #class 1a #toshinori x reader angst #dadmight #father all might #mha #all might x reader #all might x reader angst #reader angst #daughter reader #daughter reader mha

[vampi-fixx]

day 9, sesshomaru: ruts

kinktobruary day 9

sesshomaru x reader // inuyasha

—sesshomaru has been acting strange lately. the last thing he needs is your oblivious questions.

tw/cws: knotting, ruts, dubcon, sesshomaru being too horny to have self-respect

It is troublesome, this burning heat. It stirs, just beneath the surface of his skin, coils between his muscles. It calls to him, urges him to find a warm body, to mount it. His claws elongate as he observes the heat diffusing from his palm. Hm. Even a demon of high caliber such as himself is powerless to nature’s calling.

Much less… his thoughts began to drift to you, his very human companion. There are things he wants to do to you, thoughts that he’s repressed in the past that come snarling towards him, breaking out of their cage. He frowns. This won’t do.

—

“Gosh, Sesshomaru really has been cranky all day, huh,” you remark, after the third time he’s evaded your presence. His silence and occasional ignoring is something you’re used to, but not him outright using his demonic speed to dash seven paces away from you.

Jaken shushes you urgently, glancing fearfully towards his master. “Lord Sesshomaru is going through a… difficult period.”

You frown. You disappeared to the modern era for a few days to sort through your college midterms, and when you came back, Sesshomaru was in this bristly mood. You can’t help but think you’re missing something.

“Is it Inuyasha?” You ask lowly, knowing all too well of his tumultuous relationship with his brother. “Does it have to do with his father?”

“No, and no, you daft human,” Jaken nags.

You’re more than used to Jaken’s insults. “Okay, so…. what’s up with him?”

The imp glances eyes you, before quickly changing the subject. Your frown deepens as you finish bending the stems to Rin’s flower crown, before calling her over and placing it on her head. While she chatters excitedly to you, you find your gaze straying to Sesshomaru’s tense form in the distance, just far enough where he can still keep an eye out for enemies, but not too close to your group. 

Whatever his problem is, you would get it out of Jaken some way.

—

You just don’t anticipate how you will. 

Sesshomaru’s been acutely avoiding any and all interactions with your group all day. It’s almost as if he’s a specter, lurking just outside of your field of vision. Except whenever he does get closer, you’re overwhelmed by a sense of—bloodlust? Malice? Something that simmers with intensity. You can’t quite pinpoint it, and whenever you ask Jaken, he seems to evade your question. Whatever it is, it sends shivers down your spine. 

When you set up camp for the night, he disappears entirely.

Your thoughts are plagued by worries for him, and you fall into a fitful sleep. What could possibly be causing him to be so on edge all day? You’re stirred into consciousness by something brushing against your nose. Your face scrunches up, and when you open your eyes, you see a flash of silver hair, curtaining your view, the same wave of bloodlust—

“Sesshomaru?” Just as his name leaves your mouth, his presence is gone in a flash, the air around you stirred. You sit up, glancing towards the direction of his after-image.

You weigh your options. Jaken did say he was going through a difficult time…. but you aren’t sure what is troubling him. Maybe it’s a demon thing? Should you really risk getting your head bitten off? 

Against your better judgement, you go searching for him. Sure, he’s a big, bad demon, but something is clearly bothering him. And as his.... friend—as loathe as he is to admit it—you can’t just leave him be. 

What you are not expecting is to see Sesshomaru hunched over by a tree as if in pain. You call out his name, running towards him, but are stopped by a feral snarl as he turns towards you, his eyes flashing red.

“Leave. Now.”

“What’s wrong? I—”

As you approach closer, you notice several things. His claws are sunk into the tree, the poison leeching from it and decaying the bark. The markings on his face are fiercer, more striking, and his fangs protrude from his lips. His eyes flash more and more red with every moment; he looks every bit a wild animal. But, and perhaps the most scandalous of all, he grips his cock in one clawed hand, erect and red, and apparently he was jerking off.

You try not to stare, you really do, but your eyes instinctively dart down there as you feel heat creep to your cheeks at the position you’ve caught him in. 

His hand has stopped moving, but his cock stands throbbing, looking painfully erect. You gulp.

“You’re just a mere human. You wouldn’t understand—”

“You’re… horny,” you state, blandly.

“Human—” His eyes flash dangerously.

“You’re...” Your mind flashes through possibilities. Sesshomaru seems unable to control his... not bloodlust, but carnal lust. He is a dog demon, which means.. he could possibly be... “In a... rut?”

He stills. A vein pops out in his jaw, his fangs seeming even more prominent.

“I… I studied this in school. Once.” Freshman biology, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Do you need—” You’re not sure what you’re asking him. What does he need? A hole? A demonness to fuck?

This is awkward. His eyes follow you like a predator, that wave of lust washing over you again. You stifle a shiver.

“Before your arrival,” he says suddenly, the piercing quality of his words startling you. “I had no such issues dealing with these… urges. But now, they are quite...” His claws dig into the bark further, and the bark snaps. “Incorrigible.”

“Oh.” You blink. “I’m… sorry?”

“This is partly your doing,” he growls.

“Uh-huh...”

“I... am tempted to ask you to fix it.”

This is where your brain grinds to a halt, your jaw dropping. His sharp gaze hones in on the way your mouth opens enticingly, and you notice, snapping it shut. “I—you want me to—”

He makes a frustrated growl in the back of his throat. “Disregard that.” And then he’s stalking away, each step seeming painful, emphasized even more by the engorged flesh sticking out of his pants.

“W-Wait, Sesshomaru—”

He’s on you in a flash, before you can even blink, and you freeze. “I suggest—” The warmth of his breath washes over you, and this close you can feel just how hot he’s running, his entire body diffusing heat. “That you don’t—call me—like that—”

“Like what?” you blurt out. “I’m just saying your name.”

His lip curls over his fangs. His eyes clench in frustration. You seem to be testing the limits of his patience.

“Sesshomaru, what—”

In a flash, he’s pressing you against another tree, and his lips are claiming yours. There’s nothing gentle about it, his fangs digging into your lip. You flinch when you feel blood trickle down your chin, and he snarls at the taste of it, before pulling away.

“For one of the less idiotic humans, you can be quite obstinate.”

“I’m...” You blink, dazed. “Sorry?”

His mouth is claiming yours again, his chestplate pressing you into the bark. You feel the heat of his cock pressed up against your thigh, and you shudder at the sensation. It’s hitting you now.

Sesshomaru, one of the most ethereally beautiful people you’ve seen, the most powerful demon in the Feudal Era, wants to... he’s this frenzied up because of... because of you. You, an average human.

Your thigh nudges against his length, and he breaks the kiss to snarl, his fangs lowering to graze your collarbone. Your breath hitches, and one, clawed finger comes up to shred your shirt. You yelp as the cold air hits you only to be devoured by the heat of his mouth on your skin. His fingers claws through the material of your bra, and you yelp again.

“Hey, that was one of my favorites!” you say, indignant. He scoffs, his mouth suctioning over the give of your flesh possessively.

You moan, arching into his touch, as you stare down at him. You don’t dare touch his silver hair, afraid of how he may lash out on you, but your hands do come up to his shoulders, tugging the fabric.

You tense when one of his fingers lowers itself to your hip, and then he’s ripping the panties and skirt off in one clawed swipe.

“We really... have to talk about you ruining all my clothing,” you say, weakly, your affront tempered by his actions.

He scoffs again. “You won’t need such flimsy things in just a moment.”

“Ah...”

His finger slides against your slit, collecting your release, as you writhe against his touch. He’s aware of the softness of your flesh in comparison to his demon claws so he doesn’t do anything much other than rub his finger back and forth along you. He growls once he’s satisfied with the amount of slick coating your area, before leaning back and aligning the his cock to your entrance.

“A-ah wait—“ Your eyes widen at his considerable length; you’re not nearly ready to take him in. But then he’s canting his hips forward, not penetrating you, but sliding his cock along your slick till he reaches your ass cheeks. He continues this rocking motion, his lips pulled back in a snarl. You moan, dropping your head back, before wincing as it hits the unyielding bark. His hand comes up to cradle your head. “Thanks,” you murmur.

His sharp gaze is fixated on the way his length slides against you, and rubs against your slick; the way your arousal gleams on his shaft under the moonlight.

His hips begin to rock faster now, a growl building up in his throat. You wince at the dig of his armor against your bare skin, gripping his shoulders as you attempt to find some grounding.

You feel his cock throbbing insistently against you, his pre-ejaculate mixing with your arousal to make for an easy slide against you.

He growls, his eyes narrowing. His grip digs into your hip as his thrusts become choppier. You get the sense he’s frustrated.

“Do you want to... put it in?”

His gaze flashes up to you, surprise in the bleeding red, as you continue. “I... that’ll help abate your rut right? I don’t mind... you using me.”

You have little else you can say, because Sesshomaru sheathes himself inside you in one thrust. You gasp, your eyes clenching at the feel of him stretching you to your limits.

“Ever heard of a... a warning?” you manage to choke out.

He shows no mercy, his hips ruthlessly pounding into yours once given the go ahead. It’s clear Sesshomaru is losing his grip on rule or reason now, his eyes maintaining their blood-red state. You wince as his elongated claws press into the meat of your waist. He fucks you like he takes down foes: with ruthless precision. Once his cock hits that spot that has you keening against him, he begins hammeringinto it, and your eyes began to water at the sheer intensity and rapidness at which your pleasure is mounting.

At the sight of your tears, however, he seems to slow down. His tongue darts out to lick them off your face, and he’s observing you, before his thrusts slow to a leisurely lull. When the palm of his hand comes down to press against your clit, the stimulation, combined with the way his cock is plunging into you in long, deep thrusts, has you writhing against him.

“S-Sesshomaru—”

You feel something bulbous forming at the base of his cock, stretching you wider, and you look down. Protruding from his cock is a thick knot, and you gulp once you realize that’s going into you.

You’re approaching your end. He snarls as you tighten around him, both his hands gripping your hips to him now, as your walls clench around him, nearly trapping his cock with their grip.

Sesshomaru thrusts once before pressing deep inside you, a throaty grunt tearing from him. You shiver as you feel copious amounts of warmth seep into you, and it remains inside you due to the knot plugging you up. The moment seems to stretch on forever, his hips jerking into yours in minute movements, and then it’s over.

The two of you are stuck together. You shift only to wince once it jerks at his knot. He grunts, keeping your hips in place.

“Sorry,” you say. And then, when a few more minutes have passed, and the two of you are still in the same position, you ask, “Ah, when can we.... detach?”

Sesshomaru grunts. “Once it deflates.”

“Ah... and when will that be?”

He shifts. “This Sesshomaru is claiming you as his. It will take awhile.”

“Ah, okay—wait, what?”

He presses you closer to him, and you rest your head against his chest. While the feel of cooling cum usually is gross, the heat of his body keeps you warm and feeling full. His clawed fingers gradually begin to trail through you hair. After several minutes that seem to stretch into eons, the bond keeping you to him diminishes, and you shiver when you feel some of his spend trickle down your thigh.

Instead of the hard flesh inside you softening, however, it stays stiff. You still, glancing up at him to see his markings still vibrant, his red eyes glowing distinctly.

“Did you really think we were done, human? The Demon Lord of the West surely does not possess such a meager drive.”

—

The next morning, you come up with some half-assed excuse to Rin about why you’re wearing a kimono from the local seamstress, and not your usual outfit. And why you can’t seem to walk anymore, and Sesshomaru has to carry you everywhere.

“(Y/N) must have fallen and hurt themselves.” She giggles.

“Yes, Rin... on a very large... stick.” Sesshomaru’s claws dig into your backside in warning. “I mean—tree branch.”

“Silly (Y/N)! It’s a good thing Lord Sesshomaru is around to take care of you.”

(Meanwhile, Jaken has yet to be seen since he encountered the two of you this morning. He’s too busy cleansing his eyes and nose out in a lake.)

#sesshomaru x reader #inuyasha x reader #inuyasha imagine #sesshomaru imagine #tati writes #not sfw #kinktobruary

[lexsssu]

Elixir (Jafar)

TAGS: Jafar/Dragoness!reader, aphrodisiacs, smut, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“...How could you let this happen? Wait, don’t answer that. I’m afraid if I hear what you have to say the headache will get even worse.”

“It’s not like I wanted or expected for something like this to happen, you know…”

“I swear to god, Sin. Drakon will have our heads if he finds out that we let this happen under our watch!”

“Okay, okay! I get it! But there’s nothing else we can do right now aside from help her with it! What she needs right now is you, Ja’far and don’t think I didn’t notice those looks you’ve been giving each other all the time even back in Sindria.”

The former assassin is unable to refute his liege’s words, biting his lower lip as he glared at the purple-haired man before sighing and rubbing his temples.

“...Are you sure there’s no other way?”

“Ja’far, she was poisoned with the [Elixir of A Thousand & One Nights] . There’s no way she can deal with it herself. Now, if you’re really that averse to helping then I can ask Masrur instead. The big guy’s been pent up lately plus he gets along quite well with her—”

“I’ll do it”

“Wonderful. I’ll take Masrur out with me while you deal with her in the meantime. Feel free to thank me later~”

“...Why do I even put up with you?”

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

“Ehehehe...our thing’s are kissing, Ja’far. Can you feel it? You’re so deep inside of me…”

How did he get in this situation again? One moment he was silently stepping into your room and the next thing he knew, he’s pinned beneath your soft weight on the carpeted floors.

Your smooth cheeks lit up with a flush of red and your golden eyes seemed even brighter now or maybe that was just because he was underneath you while you rode him without restraint. Small hands pinned his own rough and calloused ones above him, but it is the way you wrap so deliciously around him, how your hips gyrated and undulated as your moist depths took in every inch of him with gusto that prevented the adviser from even thinking about leaving this paradise.

It is an open secret in Sindria and especially within Sinbad’s circle of friends and subordinates how the adopted daughter picked up by Drakon caught the fancy of his most trusted aide. You were a young woman washed ashore with no memory of how you got here and had no one looking for her from wherever she may have come from. It was only natural that Sindria would welcome you with open arms.

The draconic features you sported quickly endeared you to Drakon and his wife, the currently childless couple adopting you overnight despite you being old enough to have children of your own. It is no surprise that Drakon treated you like a priceless treasure, a pearl within his palm.

And here Ja’far was, enjoying himself as you fucked yourself on his cock on the floor as if you were both nothing but a pair of wild animals with nothing on their minds except the need to procreate.

He knows he should have pushed you off before you even slipped the leaking tip of his cock in your dripping cunt. He should have restrained you as soon as he walked through those doors. He should not be snapping his own hips upwards in tandem with your own movements. He definitely should not be cumming inside you right now after your own climax has your pussy convulsing and squeezing his cock as if asking for his own essence.

The pale-haired man lost count of how many times he came, how many positions he had you in after the first time. All he knows is that you are now sleeping soundly within the cage of his arms on the plush bed, marks littering your bodies like paint on canvas.

“I guess this means I’ll have to take responsibility for you...Solomon, give me strength…”

You are unaware of his dread at having to face your father as only a blissful and sated smile decorated your lips while you basked in the warmth of his body.

#lexsssu writes #magi x reader #magi kingdom of magic #magi the labyrinth of magic #magi labyrinth of magic #jafar x reader #magi jafar x reader #crossposted on ao3

[sebastianstangirl01]

Woah Baby

Title: Woah Baby

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Bradshaw Reader

Warnings: language, descriptions of sex, protective Rooster and Maverick

Summary: After finding out she is pregnant Y/N has to find a way to break the news to her big brother Bradley and her god father Pete, who didn’t know about the secret relationship between Y/N and one of the pilots Hangman.

Authors Note: Carole was pregnant with Y/N when Goose died, Maverick immediately stepped in as the god father and treated her as his own while still making sure that the memory of her actual father lived on.

Secret relationships seem like a good idea in the beginning. The adrenaline spike that sneaking around gives, like your doing something that’s forbidden. But in the end are they ever worth it?

“Fuck.” Y/N mumbled from her spot on the bathroom floor leaning against the bathtub.

Morning sickness had been torturing Y/N for about a week, at first she just put it off as food poisoning. She was on birth control and she and Jake were always safe.

But when she missed her period and her boobs became tender to the touch along with the morning sickness, she just knew something wasn’t right.

“You good in there Honey?” Jake asked from outside the bathroom door, when Y/N woke up wrapped in Jake’s arms this morning she immediately had to jump from bed and run into the bathroom leaving a confused Hangman still laying in bed before getting up and following after her.

Y/N groaned and leaned her head back against the bathtub taking a few deep breaths to get herself together.

“You can some in.” Y/N said closing her eyes, she heard the door creak open and felt as Jake sat down next to her immediately pulling her into his warm naked chest.

“You ok?” Jake asked kissing her forehead

“I think I might be pregnant.” Y/N mumbled and Jake froze wide eyed pulling away slightly so he could look into her glossy eyes

“I thought you were on the pill and we always use a condom.” Jake said confused with his brows furrowed

“I am. I don’t know how this could have happened. Oh god, what about Brad and Pops? Their going to kill me, well they’ll kill you first and then kill me.” Y/N said making Jake chuckle and shake his head

“Before we worry about us dying, we need to get you a test. I can go right now and get some from the pharmacy, you take a shower and rinse off then get back into bed and try to get a little more rest.” Jake said standing up and reaching down to pull Y/N up beside him. “No matter what you’ve always got me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you.” Y/N said leaning against his chest

“I love you too. Now strip.” Jake smirked smacking Y/N’s butt making her squeal

“Stripping is what got us into this situation, now go.” Y/N said pushing Jake towards the bathroom door

“I’m going I’m going. Be back soon, don’t miss me too much.” Jake smirked and Y/N playfully rolled her eyes before shutting the door in his face

Y/N sighed and did as she was told, getting in the shower and washing off the sweat that built up on her body from her violent throwing up episode. Once she got out Y/N changed into a pair of panties and one of Jakes white t shirts then walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water before making her way back into the bedroom and climbing into bed.

By the time Jake got back from the pharmacy Y/N was out of it laying with his pillow wrapped in her arms as she buried her face into it. Jake smiled and took his phone out snapping a picture that would definitely be his new Lock Screen, well if he’s still alive after Maverick and Rooster find out about their predicament.

Jake laid the 4 tests he bought down on the nightstand and sat on the bed beside Y/N reaching up to push a few pieces of hair out of her face before placing a few light kisses to her cheek, then forehead, then each of her eye lids making Y/N smile as she started to stir.

“There she is.” Jake smiled as Y/N turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I bought 4, figured it would be better to be safe than sorry.”

“Thanks, I guess I’ll go take them now.” Y/N sighed sitting up playing with her hands nervously making Jake sigh and grab her hands

“We’re going to be ok. If you’re pregnant then I’m going to love you and this baby more than anything in the entire world, yes Maverick and Rooster will probably be mad but in the end they will get over it and love the baby almost as much as us. If you’re not pregnant then that’s alright too, when you’re ready we can tell them about us and we can let our relationship grow and hopefully have kids someday.” Jake said and Y/N smiled slightly before nodding

“You’re right.” Y/N said and Jake smirked making Y/N roll her eyes. “I’ll be back.”

Jake watched as Y/N got out of bed and grabbed the tests off the nightstand before making her way to the bathroom, she glanced over her shoulder at Jake who blew her a kiss making her smile before closing the door behind her.

“I’m so screwed.” Jake sighed flopping back onto the bed, he obviously doesn’t regret being with Y/N she is the love of his life. But with the relationship he and Rooster have he knew that the news of him getting his baby sister knocked up would make him feral. And Maverick is practically Y/N’s father, since she never got to meet her real father Goose Maverick is the closest she’s ever had to a father.

He wasn’t sure how the two would react to the news, he didn’t want to jeopardize his and Y/N’s relationship.

Y/N read the instructions carefully before peeing on each of the sticks and then cleaning herself up. She placed each of the sticks face down on the counter and washed her hands before setting a timer for 5 minutes and walking back into the bedroom where Jake was still laying.

Y/N chuckled and climbed on top of him laying her head down on his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist, Jake chuckled and wrapped his arms around her body squeezing her tightly to his body.

“It should be done in 5 minutes.” Y/N mumbled and Jake nodded

“You nervous?” Jake asked rubbing up and down her back

“About being pregnant in general not as much as I thought I would be, but for what Brad and Pop are going to think absolutely.” Y/N sighed

“I’m a little nervous too but I love you and although I’ll probably get my ass kicked, I’m actually a little excited about maybe being a dad.” Jake said making Y/N prop her face up with her hands

“Really?” Y/N asked in slight surprise, Jake doesn’t exactly seem like the type of guy to want to settle down and have a family

“Yeah, I mean I didn’t have the best home life growing up. Didn’t have a father worth much of anything and I don’t want my kids to have the same experience that I did. I want to be a good dad.” Jake said with a shy smile making Y/N’s eyes widen, she has never known of Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin to be shy.

“I think you’d make a great dad, even if you are a cocky son of a bitch.” Y/N said and Jake gasped in mock hurt before attacking her sides in tickles making Y/N scream and roll of off him as she laughed

“I’ll show you a cocky son of a bitch.” Jake smirked sitting on top of Y/N’s legs as he tickled her making the girl scream and laugh

Their moment was interrupted by the sound of Y/N’s timer going off in the bathroom, immediately causing both of them to freeze in their spots.

“Here goes nothing. You ready?” Jake asked climbing off of her and sitting beside her

“As I’ll ever be.” Y/N sighed before sitting up Jake rubbed her back before standing up and offering a hand to Y/N that she accepted letting him pull her up

Y/N walked into the bathroom with Jake behind her and stopped at the counter looking down at the tests.

“You flip 2 and I’ll flip 2.” Jake said and Y/N nodded taking a deep breath

“Ok. One, two, three.” Y/N counted down as she and Jake both grabbed the tests and flipped them over, Y/N could feel her eyes water and she let out a shaky breath

Pregnant

“Oh my god.” Y/N mumbled before looking towards Jake to gouge his reaction but he was standing with his head facing the ceiling. “Jake?”

“Oh I’m so dead.” Jake said making Y/N chuckle as she wrapped her arms around his waist making Jake immediately wrap his arms around her kissing her forehead. “But believe it or not, I’m actually excited.”

“What excited to die?” Y/N asked with a smirk making Jake playfully roll his eyes before reaching around to grab the backs of her thighs and picking her up and sitting her on the counter standing between her legs

“No silly. To be a dad, to have a family with you. To watch you grow with my baby.” Jake said with a smile on his face making Y/N smile too

“I’m excited too. Nervous as hell, but I’m excited to be a mom. And no matter what Pop or Brad say, I know they will be happy to be a honorary grandfather and favorite uncle.” Y/N said

“Speaking of, how are we going to tell them?” Jake asked making Y/N sigh and rest her head on his chest

“I could ask them to meet at the bar and get a table, if we’re in public then they are maybe less likely to kill you immediately. Plus Penny won’t tolerate any fighting and since Pop is smitten by her he’ll do whatever she says. But Brad is still a wild card, he wouldn’t be happy finding out we are dating much less that you fucked his baby sister and got her pregnant.” Y/N chuckled as Jake smirked

“Tonight?” Jake asked and Y/N sighed but nodded

“No time like the present.” Y/N said

──────── 🛫 ────────

Y/N decided that it might be best for her to talk to Maverick and Rooster privately before bringing Jake into the conversation, so now Y/N was sitting at a booth snacking on mozzarella sticks and drinking a cherry coke. Penny thought it was weird that Y/N didn’t order a beer like normal but decided to just let it go.

Y/N was just about to take another bite of her food when Maverick walked up to the table with a small smile resting on his face.

“Hey kiddo.” Maverick said and Y/N smiled sliding out of the booth

“Hey Pop, thanks for coming.” Y/N said as he pulled her into a warm hug

“Of course, Bradley around here get?” Maverick asked keeping his arm around Y/N’s shoulders

“Not yet, here sit.” Y/N said gesturing to the booth as they slid in across from each other. “Mozzarella stick?”

“I’m good thanks.” Maverick chuckled as he studied her face. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine.” Y/N nervously chuckled before taking a bite of another mozzarella stick

“You sure?” Maverick asked not believing her lie Y/N was about to make up another excuse before she caught sight of Rooster walking towards them with his aviators on wearing one of their fathers Hawaiian themed shirts

“Would you look at that, here’s Bradley. Come take a seat big brother.” Y/N said gesturing to the seat beside of Maverick ignoring the suspicious looks that she was getting from 2 of the most important men in her life.

“Hey sis, everything alright?” Rooster asked sliding into the booth beside Maverick

“I actually have a few things I wanted to talk to you both about. Some very important things.” Y/N said nervously, subtly glancing over to where Jake was playing pool with Coyote and Bob. He caught her gaze and gave her a wink and supportive smile before turning back to the game

“You can tell us anything. What’s going on?” Maverick asked while Rooster just sat there quietly studying his sisters face and expressions, he knew there was something off he knew Y/N like the back of his hand

“I have a boyfriend. I have for a few months now actually, I was too scared to tell you because of who he is. I didn’t want either of you to be mad at me.” Y/N said making Maverick and Rooster exchange a look

“Boyfriend?” Rooster asked and Y/N nodded, “for how long?”

“8 months.” Y/N said causing the mens eyes to widen

“8 months?!” They both exclaimed making Y/N wince

“I’m sorry.” Y/N apologized when she saw the hurt look on both their faces, since their mom died Maverick has been the only family Y/N and Rooster have and Y/N and Rooster have always been the only family he’s had. They were all always very close so keeping a secret as big as this one was not easy.

“Who is it? Who do I have to kill?” Rooster asked making Y/N roll her eyes

“First of all your not killing him, second of all threatening to kill him isn’t making me want to tell you who he is.” Y/N said crossing her arms

“Ok ok, no one is killing anyone. Yet. Just tell us who he is sweetie.” Maverick said and Y/N took a deep breath

“Jake.” Y/N said making Roosters eyes widen

“Jake as in Hangman?!” Rooster asked and Y/N nodded making his face turn red. “No way! Not happening! He’s not a good guy Y/N, all he cares about is getting laid! He only wants to get in your pants!”

“That’s not true! Look I know that you don’t exactly like Jake, but he treats me good he loves me Brad. And I love him.” Y/N said giving both men a pleading look not to be mad

“I can’t say that I’m exactly happy about this, but if he treats you good and your happy. I guess that’s all that matters.” Maverick said and Y/N gave him a thankful smile before turning to Rooster who had his arms crossed pouting like a child. “Bradley.”

“Fine. If your happy then great. But if he hurts you so help me god I will make him wish he was dead.” Rooster said with a deadly serious face

“Ok, well there’s actually more.” Y/N said making both men look at her expectantly. “I’m pregnant. Surprise.”

Maverick and Rooster sat frozen in front of Y/N with blank looks across their face making Y/N look at them worried.

“Brad? Pop?” Y/N hesitantly asked

“He’s dead.” They said as they jumped out of the booth and quickly made their way towards Jake, who immediately started running out the door when he saw the looks on their face.

“Your so dead Hangman!” Rooster yelled as he chased him out the door

“So dead!” Maverick yelled chasing after them

“Children.” Y/N sighed before shrugging and going back to her mozzarella sticks, looking out the window and watching as Rooster and Maverick chased Jake down the beach.

#top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x sister reader #pete mitchell #jake seresin x reader

[is-emily-real]

In Love With The Boy

Richard couldn't care less that his son was gay. Quite the opposite, actually. He’d had his fair share of dalliances in his day, and he was glad Steve got to be open about that part of himself.

No, Richard Harrington had a problem with who his son chose to date.

“I don’t like this,” he said as he leaned against the doorway.

Helen touched up her lipstick in the bathroom mirror. “Like what?”

“This whole situation with the Munson boy.” 

She fixed him with a glare. “Now, you swore to me that you’d love our son no matter what.” Even after all this time, she couldn’t drop her drawl when she was ticked off.

“No no, it’s not that. I just don’t think Eddie’s a good idea for Steve.”

“Oh. Well, can’t help love, I suppose.”

“I’ve heard some rumors about him from Darlene.”

“Baby, Darlene’s older than Moses. You ain’t gotta listen to her.”

“I do if I don’t want my coffee poisoned. That woman’s mean.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Eddie’s perfectly fine. Steve’s happier than he has been since he and Nancy broke up, and we are not going to ruin that for him.”

He put his hands up. “Alright, but I’m allowed to not like him. Father’s intuition.”

“What was it my daddy said the day we got married?”

“When he told my great-aunt I was dumber than a box of rocks or when he called me a no-good papist bastard in front of the priest?”

“Exactly. And it’s been twenty-three years since then. But,” she sighed, “if it makes you feel better, we can come home a bit early tonight, and I’ll talk to him before he leaves.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Thank you. If we hurry, we can get seats by Alan and Brenda.”

Helen flashed that beautiful smile that’d caught his heart so long ago. “No, sir. You and Alan are trouble together.”

------

It was a lazy date, but one Steve wouldn’t give up for the world. He and Eddie were curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background that he didn’t give a damn about. Instead, he was distracted by the feeling of the man in his arms.

These moments were so different from how Eddie portrayed himself. Out in the world, he was larger than life, eccentric, untouchable. But here, under the blankets, he shared his softest smiles, undid him with the lightest touches. He told Steve stories he’s never told before, shared the little details of his experiences and questioned the meaning of the universe. He drew the same from Steve, until there was nothing in his life that he would hide from these intimate moments.

He traced the scars along Eddie’s sides. If Robin was his other half, Eddie was his compliment, fitting around his curves and edges just so. They moved with each other in intricate patterns, calming and encouraging in turn, bringing out the best and tempering the worst. He adored Eddie and felt adored.

No one had ever made him feel that way before.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked.

He hummed, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

“Where do you see us in the future?”

“Wherever. As long as you’re there, I’m happy.”

“Really? Anywhere?”

“I’d follow you to the moon if you asked.”

Eddie smiled. “I followed you into hell, so it’s only fitting.”

Steve laughed. “Of course.” He took a beat to consider it and continued, “I mean, we can get a little house somewhere and have a couple pets, babysit for the neighbors, grow a little garden. I’d like that.”

“I would too.” He flipped over so their chests pressed together, faces mere inches from each other. Eddie had a mischievous grin on his lips. “I get to pick at least one fight with someone on our street.”

“What for?”

“Blood feuds are the staple of suburbia, sweetheart. How am I to be properly domesticated if I can’t have that basic right?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Fine, but if it comes to blows, I’m not bailing you out.”

“What if they really deserve it? Not even then?” He pouted, giving him those puppy dog eyes he couldn’t resist.

“You’re a menace.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

Steve pulled him close, basking in Eddie’s smile as he kissed him soft and slow. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have imagined that he’d be here with the whole world in his hands, content to let the hours pass by as they clung to one another. 

He was safe. He was home.

Eddie drew back, fondness in his eyes as he posed the next question. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

His heart soared. “You mean…”

“Marry me, as soon as we can. Even if we have to run away.” Eddie slipped off the silver skull ring he always toyed with and held it out. “I’ll save up for wedding bands, I swear.”

He almost couldn’t get the words out, the way his heart pounded. “God, yes,” he whispered. The warm metal was snug on his finger, and then, then he was being kissed like the Earth was on the verge of collapse.

They held each other tight, joy and need spinning into something desperate that kept their lips moving against each other, hands tangled in clothes as they let gravity overtake them. Steve felt it snare around his heart, hook them together in a way he’d never protest. 

He never had to let Eddie go again.

The crunch of tires in the driveway cut through his bliss. “Shit!” Eddie squeaked. “You didn’t say they’d be home early!”

“Maybe it’s just someone turning around.” The car came to a stop and cut off. “Son of a bitch.”

They sprang apart, rushing to make themselves presentable. His mother’s heels clicked up the steps.

Eddie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. He grabbed his wrist. “Hey. I love you, okay?”

One short nod. “I love you.” 

The key rattled in the lock. He took a breath, composing his face into casual coolness before the door opened. 

“Boys!” his mom called, wrapping him in a hug. 

“Hey,” he replied, “how was tonight?”

“Oh, it was fine. I’m just a bit tired today, so we figured we oughtta come on home.” She frowned. “We did miss dessert, though. I think I’ll have a slice of pie before bed. Come have some, Eddie.”

She had him by the arm before he could protest. He threw a panicked glance over his shoulder, but Richard’s grip on Steve’s arm stopped any interference. “Steve told me you’ve got family in Tennessee. What part?”

“Just outside Savannah, ma’am.”

“You don’t want to get involved in that.” Richard let him go. “Let’s talk in my office.”

Steve felt like he was going to puke. He followed his dad down the hall, carefully sitting in the armchair across the desk.

Richard fell into the desk chair with a sigh. “You and him are seeing each other, correct?”

Cold sweat dripped down his spine. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

His dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why couldn’t it have been a good one like Tommy?”

Steve wasn’t normally this slow on the uptake, but it took a few moments for the dots to connect in his mind. “What?”

“You understand that you being with a man is going to make things harder for you, right?” He nodded. “And him having murder accusations worsens it.”

“Obviously false accusations.”

His dad smiled wryly. “Not the way a lot of people in town see it. And your mom went over those NDAs with a fine tooth comb. They’re watertight.”

“Hold on, are you mad that I’m in love with a guy, or are you mad that the guy is Eddie?”

“The latter, and I’m not mad, just disappointed.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “I’m not losing my only son because of who you fell in love with.” 

The confusion must have been apparent, because he continued. “Your mother and I love you, and nothing’s going to change that. We just want to make sure you’re safe and he’s treating you right.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, um, yeah. Sorry, this… this is not how I expected this to go.”

“You know how to be a gentleman, and you shouldn’t tolerate any less from him.”

“He’s been perfectly sweet. Why— Why are you not freaking out about this?”

Richard gave him a look. “Have you ever really thought about how we call Terry your uncle even though he’s just Mark’s roommate and we’re not really related?”

“Well, yeah, they’ve lived together for fifteen… Oh.” The final piece clicked into place.

“Yep. Kinda saw it coming, to be honest. You’re a bit vain for your own good.” He shrugged. “You boys are being safe, right?”

“Dad!”

“And not just with the sex stuff. You can handle yourselves in a fight?”

Steve, despite never having won any fight against a human person, nodded. 

“Good.” He stood and walked around the desk to wrap Steve in a brief hug. “You’re my son, and you’ll always be welcome here.” Just as briskly, he let go.

“Thanks,” Steve winced at the sound of his voice cracking.

Helen’s voice rang out warmly. “Good night, Eddie! Drive safe!”

He took that as his cue to step out. In the hall, he found Eddie, face pale and eyes wide as they flicked back and forth from his parents’ bedroom and the plate in his hands. 

Eddie turned to face him with a haunted look. “I’m scared of your mom.”

Richard clapped him on the back. “We all are, son. You boys don’t stay up too late.” With that he walked down the hall, shaking his head. Eddie was smarter than he looked. Maybe it’d be good for Steve to keep him around.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #isemilyreal on ao3 #they're stupid your honor

[dracoxsworld]

ARRANGED - Draco M. x Reader | PART 3

“Morning sleeping beauty.” You said to the blonde-haired boy

“What- what the hell?!” Draco exclaimed when he noticed the handcuff on his wrist.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure they don’t trust us anymore to be escapees.” You replied, looking down at your handcuff.

“Do you even remember what happened?” You asked him. He looked you and shook his head.

“They sent dementors after us.” You said. Draco all of a sudden noticed the change in your tone, it was a lot more monotone than before, you spoke in an almost concerning level of calm. Like you were asleep.

“Dementors? Father isn’t supposed to be able to do that,” He said “After the war… He.. they shouldn’t have access-“

“Draco, your family has proven that they can have access to anything they please at this point.” You said irritability. “I’m sorry.” You apologized, your head was pounding, you weren’t sure what the plan was going to be, and neither did he.

“You have a fair point. Father always had a way with things.” He said, focusing on his pale hands.

Your hands rubbed your eyes and then dragged down your face. You were stressed. “So what now?” You asked him. He was silent.

There was a knock at the door, it opened and it was Lucius. Draco’s body froze completely, seemingly in fear. You’ve never seen Draco Malfoy so scared. “Well you two, that was quite the scene.” He started.

He came up to you, as you sat at the edge of the bed. His wand tilted your chin upwards. “I’m guessing you convinced my son to run away from your fate.” He said, his tone reminded you of a poisonous, lethal snake. “You’re correct.” You said, matter of factly. Honestly, it was your idea. But also to cover up for Draco, who still was frozen in fear but at the same time, sitting up straighter once Lucius pointed his wand at you.

“Father, leave her alone, please.” Draco said, voice shaking. “

“Shut it, Draco.” Lucius spat, his dark eyes shooting at his son.

He looked back down at you. “You, my darling, are a bad bad influence.” Lucius “Your family doesn’t exactly hold the spotless reputation, either.” You commented. Lucius gained a devilish grin, he grabbed your shirt by its collar.

“You’re just as twisted as the rest of us, Y/N. Don’t you understand? It’s in your blood.”

“Father!” Draco yelled. Lucius dropped your shirt immediately from shock. You fell back into the bed, rubbing the back of your neck from the shirt digging into your skin. “Before I go. You’re both husband and wife.” Lucius said, walking towards the door, seemingly forgetting what he had just done to you. You and Draco looked at each other. He looked apologetic. “We decided to finish the job since you both decided to take a run for it.” Lucius added. “Happy honeymoon.”

Lucius left the room, leaving you and Draco alone. “Shit.” He said under his breath. You sighed, absolutely nothing went according to plan. You weren't exactly surprised it had gone to a complete shit show, it was rather typical compared to the rest of your life.

-

You and Draco were released about an hour later. Maggie, the worker who had helped you get ready for your wedding yesterday, released you both.

"That was quite the wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." Maggie said, leading you out of the bedroom. You turned her head in confusion, but then remembered you were both married. "Yes, well, we love the element of surprise, Maggie." Draco said sarcastically. "I suppose so, anyhow, Mrs. Franchies has made you both a breakfast. Mr. Malfoy, I was told to warn you both, and I plead you to actually listen; that the Manor has high security outside. Please, for both of your safety, behave." Maggie said calmly. She looked over at you with pleading eyes. "Please, Mrs. and Mr. Malfoy. Do as you are told." You both reluctantly nodded.

You and Draco both quietly sat at the dining table. It was elegant and could seat probably 40 people. It was black, and the chairs matched with velvet dark green cushions. "Mrs. Franchies is a lovely chef." Draco said quietly. "She'll bring us our breakfast any minute. Eggs, toast, everything you can think of." He said, a bit more confidently. "With orange juice, of course. Freshly squeezed-" "What are we going to do?" I interrupted him. He just stared. I started to tear up. "Stop crying, we'll find a way." Draco said with a bit of a stern tone. You looked up at him.

"We are in a heavily guarded manor. We couldn't even escape with our magic." You said to him, with confusion. "How do you expect we-" "Maybe we should just accept our fate." Draco sneered. "Maybe it's your fate to marry someone you don't love, but it's not mine." You snapped back.

"We are married, Y/N." Draco stressed. "You'll never marry your precious Nicholas." You could feel steam bursting out of your ears. You stood up at the table. Draco's eyes widened "I am done with this conversation, if you won't find a way, I'll leave on my own." You left the dining room, tears falling down your cheeks, you heard Draco calling after you, something about blowing this out of proportion.

-

You laid in your elegant bed, sobbing quietly to yourself when you heard a knock at your door. "What?" you called out. You heard the door open and you looked up. Draco stepped into the room with a plate of breakfast. "You're not supposed to have food in here!" you whispered. "Well I can't just let you starve." Draco said, sounding annoyed with you already. He sat at the end of the bed on your side, handing you the plate. You sat up. "Listen. I know we aren't the biggest fan of each other, but we should make the best of the situation, Y/N." Draco said after a moment, he was looking at his knuckles, trying to avoid eye contact. You ate some food, waiting for him to continue. "I was impressed by you, ya know." Draco admitted. He looked at his ring finger, and perked up. "I completely forgot!" He said, getting up from the bed. You watched him with curiosity. He opened his bedside table drawer and pulled out a dark green velvet box. He went in front of you and gave you the box. You took it in your hand and ran your thumb over the soft velvet. "Open it." Draco said softly.

You opened the box and your eyes widened. Two rings sat in the box, your initials above your ring, a round cut ring with an emerald. It looked beautiful, you must admit. Draco's initials were above his, a black ring with a snake engraved. Typical.

"You don't have to wear yours, at least when you're here." Draco said, taking his and putting it on. "Just.. when we're out, so people don't question anything. People should probably have the impression we're happy." He said.

You looked up at him. "I'll wear mine." You decided, Draco looked surprise. You picked up the delicate looking ring and slipping it on your finger. "You're lucky I am sympathetic." You said to him. He gave you a faint smile, and sat next to you on the bed. "I must admit, you did amazing in that battle." He complimented. You felt your face go hot, but you shoved food in your mouth before he noticed. You nodded, chewing your eggs and toast. "I'm not surprised, though. You were amazing in Hogwarts." You swallowed your food, and smiled faintly. "I suppose you're good too, you protected me quite a bit. Even afterwards, you defended me from your dad." You said. "You're my wife now, I have to. Even if we don't particularly like each other."

"I think we can eventually like each other." You admitted. Draco raised his eyebrows at you. "I suppose for the time being.. we have to, right?" You suggested. He nodded. Draco looked into your eyes, he didn't say anything, he just stared. His face moved closer to yours, and as almost as if you two were magnets, you connected. You felt his lips on yours. They were gentler than you thought they'd be, caring, almost. His hands naturally went up to your face and gently cupped it in his hands, your hands then landed on his biceps, wanting to keep them where they were.

You both pulled away and looked at each other.

"Effective start, Mrs. Malfoy." Draco teased.

#draco malfoy #draco fic #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco fanfiction #draco x reader smut #draco malfoy smut #draco #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy series

[call-sign-shark]

✨Angel in Distress✨

Summary: Hangman always takes care of you, but what happens when he discovers that you’re pregnant? Bonus: Bob AGAIIIIIN.

(Part 1: Angel in Disguise || Part 3: Angel in Panic)

Words: 1,5k

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, mention of unprotected sex, funny, extreme fluff

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A second red line appeared on the pregnancy test you held between your hands.

Your heart skipped a beat at such a sight. It all started with Phoenix and you sitting on the warm sand of the beach, discussing boys. While not mentioning Hangman, you told her you had a friend with benefits and that, caught in the middle of the heat,  both of you often forgot about condoms but you were taking the pill, so you never worried about getting pregnant. Even though Phoenix laughed and teased you, she still warned you: birth controls, especially low-dose ones, are not 100% effective. All it took was forgetting it a few times. Her words felt like a punch in the guts. Admittedly you had not been consistent with your birth control lately, for the Uranium mission and Mav’s difficult trainings occupied all your thoughts. By the end of the day, you frequently released the stress with Hangman through steamy intercourses, then you took your shower and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Natasha had barely left when you rushed to the local drugstore to buy two pregnancy tests coming from two different brands, which both turned out positive.

“I’m fucked.”  

These were the only words that came from your lips, carried by your shaky breathing.  You, a skilled and dauntless naval aviator who never thought about building a family, were pregnant. Even worse, the one whose seed belonged to was a cocky pilot who did not seem to want a serious and stable relationship. You pressed one of your cold palms against your forehead, eyes wide open in awe as you realized the whole situation. Your child’s father was Jake Hangman Seresin. Your heart pounded so hard in your chest that, at this point, you were pretty sure it was about to burst your ribcage open. Crippling anxiety crept through your body, weighting in your chest, and forming a ball of sobs in your throat. 

“Are you okay?” You heard Jake’s voice through the bathroom’s door.

Silence. 

The tall pilot frowned, a hint of worry glimmering in his beautiful green eyes. He waited one full minute before grabbing the handle and opening the door. His gaze caught sight of your trembling frame, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Back bent, teary eyes set on a pregnancy test you were holding between your hands, you remained petrified.

“Hey babe, what happens?” He asked, quietly. Jake did not see the pregnancy test yet, so for a moment he thought he did something bad. 

“This,” you answered in a calm yet cold voice, “This,” you repeated, showing him the positive pregnancy test. It did not take more than a few seconds for Jake to understand the whole situation. Millions of thoughts rushed to his brain, fogging his mind with fear, anxiety, surprise, and confusion. Paralyzed by the crushing news, all he could do was stand there, mouth open like an idiot. The confident and arrogant Hangman had been replaced by a stupid-looking scarecrow. To be true, you would have laughed your arse off if you were not the one pregnant. 

“You don’t want this, do you?” You said softly, your sweet voice candy-coated with undeniable sadness.  The pregnancy test fell from your hands, for you released it gently on the ground. Jake did not answer, he was unable to do so. The cocky pilot is still staring at you, his green emerald eyes observing each delicate feature of your face as if he expected to find a solution hidden in them. His silence broke your heart - what were you expecting? You were not officially together. Gosh, he did not even love you.

“Yeah, you’re totally ecstatic” You spat sarcasm as a snake spitting poison, “Nevermind, do what you do the best and leave me hanging.”  This time you had to turn your head to the side, unable to keep yourself from crying anymore. Crystal tears started to overflow from your eyes, forming wild rivers on your cheeks.

How could you be so beautiful, even when you were crying? Hangman shook his head, coming back to his senses.

“Listen-”

“Serves me right to love the adrenaline of fucking you! Now I’m fucking pregnant, you’re going to leave and I’ll have to stop flying in my jet  for at least 9 freaking months!” You started sobbing, hugging yourself in your cold arms. Usually, you made a point of honor not to show any weakness to Hangman, but it was all too much to handle. “I’m so scared…” You whispered to yourself, almost forgetting Jake’s presence. Somehow, your unconscious already did not rely on him to help you.

Jake gathered all his remaining strength, overcoming his own anxiety, and walked towards you. He placed himself between your legs and fell on his knees. His two large and warm hands gently laid on your thighs, massaging their inner parts with his thumbs. 

“Then we can be scared together.” 

You stopped crying, awestruck by what he just said. Yet, you probably misheard him. Confused, your glimmering eyes looked at him. Jake’s heart melt when your mesmerizing gaze met his: a faint but oh-so-sincere smile stretched his thin lips as he enjoyed the magnificent sight of your face.  Your eyes tearing, your sad pout, you looked like an angel someone just hurt. The pilot took a deep breath. From the moment he carried you to bed, kissing your lips in that dark corridor, Jake knew he was fucked. He, who had never fallen in love, was smitten. Smitten with the fearless yet vulnerable pilot you were. And this time, he did not want to fuck it all up.

“I know what you think about me, and I can’t blame you. Hell, I would have probably run away if it had not been you - and I’m not proud of that. But - “ He paused, taking another deep breath in an attempt to organize his thoughts and feelings “ I’ll hold your hand. No matter what happens to us in this life, I’ll be always there to hold your hand.” 

“But you don’t love me. You keep telling me we’re just having fun, no strings attached.” You shook your head. “Why would-”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jake cut you in the middle of your sentence, only to gently cup your adorable face with his hands. His emerald eyes dove into yours, probing your very soul, “Did you ever wonder how you would wake up cozy in your bed after falling asleep in the meeting room?  Did you wonder why your fridge never runs out of your favorite drink?” His voice is a bit strict, even though his tone is still coated with tenderness, “Never wondered how there’s always a bucket, a bottle of water, and ibuprofen on your nightstand after you wasted yourself at the Hard Deck?” 

“Jake.” You blinked several times.

“I am anxious each time I lost sight of your plane during training and missions. I get fucking jealous every time a dude tries to hit on you” He laughed nervously, shaking his head. Jake’s thumbs gently rubbed your cheeks, “So don’t ever tell me I don’t love you,” 

Your heart sunk at his words and your mind gave up all anger at the mere sight of Hangman’s perfect smile. You sniffed, nose a bit runny because of your sobs, and Jake found you even more charming. Unable to proceed properly with what he just said, your tongue reacted quicker than your brain.

“All I want to do is punch you in the face but I love you so much so I don’t mean it.” You pouted, freeing your face from his hands like a sulking kid. Jake could not help but laugh. A hearty laugh, “Fuck, we’re going to have a baby… Got a baby Seresin in my belly…” You whispered, still not believing it, “ What are we going to do now, Jake?” 

“I’m going to tell you what we’re going to do.” Jake stood up, his soothing smile turning into his casual cocky, and flat-lipped grin, the kind of grin that made you want to slap his face but also made you want to spread your legs, “Come here!” Without the slightest warning, the blonde pilot carried you bride-style.

“Uh? What the hell Jake?!” You shout, surprised by being suddenly lifted from the edge of the bathtub you were sitting on.

“Well, I’m going to put you in your bed and cover you with warm, cozy blankets. Then, I’m going to buy a huge cup of ice cream we’re going to eat in front of your favorite movie. Disney included. The only exceptions are musicals.” He said, kicking the bathroom door open and laying your body on the comfortable mattress with indescribable tenderness, “Got it?”

“Got it.” You answered with a slight small, your heart beating hard.

Jake winked at you and left the bedroom. Admittedly, he was terrified. He had never thought about having a baby, and here he was, ready to buy ice cream for his pregnant girlfriend. Hell, he was afraid, but he could not deny the sparkle of joy he felt within. He had always been a family man.

As long as you were beside him, he knew everything would be fine. 

He closed the bedroom door, turned around, and jumped at the sudden apparition of Bob behind him.

“WHAT THE FUCK MAN! I’m really going to put a damn bell around your neck!” He grumbled, pressing one hand against his pounding heart. “How come you always appear in that damn dark hallway, out of no-fucking-where?” 

“Told ya, I snack at night.”  The tall WSO said, readjusting his glasses on his nose awkwardly. He stared at Jake for a while, silently.

“What’s your problem, Floyd?” Jake asked, slightly embarrassed. 

“You should buy strawberries alongside ice cream. And chocolate. A lot of chocolate. My Aunt would not stop eating chocolate when she was pregnant.” 

Jake opened his mouth, struck with surprise. He looked at Bob as if he was some kind of wizard. How the hell did he know that? Bob was starting to scare the hell out of him.

Witnessing the stupefied look on Hangman’s face, the WSO shrugged and opened his own bedroom door. Yet, he took a quick last glance at Jake.

“By the way… Don’t fuck it up, Bagman. She needs you.” He said, before disappearing into his room. 

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2 prompts used from @marvelhead17's pregnancy prompts

#hangman imagine #top gun maverick #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #hangman fluff #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick x reader #tgm imagine #tgm fic #hangman x reader #Angel In

[adoreeenina]

I wanna be yours - Ch. 5

(Recom! Miles Quaritch x Sully! Reader x Recom! Lyle Wainfleet)

(Warning: Polyamorous relationship. Angst. Enemies to Lovers. Slow burn. Falling in love. Redemption arc. Canon deaths (but not really). Romance. Smut. Jealousy. Threesome. Anal(both F & M receiving). Mention of suicide, self harm, depression, anxiety. PTSD. Feelings being revealed. Jake and Neytiri not being good parents to reader. Reader being a motherly figure to Spider.)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“Who the fuck gave you permission to leave?” Quaritch seethes, watching as you walk back to camp with one of their backpacks you had taken, filled to the brim with Puffball, Spartan, and Yovo fruit.

You had woken up early before anyone, and even sneaked past Prager, who was on watch for the night. You were hungry, you haven’t ate since being taken.

“I was getting food” you snark back as you grab a spartan fruit and toss it to Spider, who easily caught it.

“We have food” Quaritch counters as if he was talking to a bratty child, and maybe he was.

“Real food. That shit you tried to poison me last night isn’t food. Just try it” you shove a Yovu fruit into chest, careful not squeeze it. “You’ll thank me later” you grin. You toss different fruits to the other recoms, some eyes it suspiciously and others, like Lyle, bites into the fruits with no hesitation.

“Oh my god, this so good” you hear Lopez moan in content.

You walk over to Spider who holds the Spartan fruit towards you. You grab it as you sit down next to him, you had managed to find a thin rock that you had washed in a stream close by. You start cutting the fruit into smaller pieces and placing them on a leaf for Spider.

“Thank you” Spider graciously pulls the leaf full of fruit towards him. You watch Spider as he takes a deep breath, pulling the mask up, he places a piece of fruit into his mouth before covering his face once again, humming appreciated.

You look around seeing many of the recoms eating the fruits with their bare hands, juice covering their mouths and dripping down their hands, you turn to see the Colonel, using his knife to cut into the fruit, stabbing it and placing it in his mouth.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Trying to decide on how to teach the recoms was harder than you thought. You had agreed on Spider to teach the recombinants the language, you don’t think you have the patience for that. Normally you would have taught them how to ride a Pa’li, but there’s none around, plus you don’t really trust them not to kill them.

A bow and arrow is also a must for their iknimaya, but you doubt any of them would be any to train with a bow, seeing how trigger happy they are with their guns.

Balance is what you decided to teach them first. They’re aren’t human anymore, their Na’vi bodies are made for the forest, they just have to trust their natural instincts and body.

A week passes and you had managed to convince them to get rid of the boots, but not without the whining and the reluctance from them.

Spider had taken a liking to the recoms, you’ve seen how close he’s been getting with Lyle, Ja, and Mansk. It worried you on how attach Spider is getting but you can’t blame him, back at high camp many of the Na’vi just see him as a demon, a mistake. It’s refreshing seeing Spider this way, it gives you happiness.

There’s not a day that goes by that you don’t think about your siblings. If you know your father, he most likely moved out of High Camp and found safety somewhere else for the safety of the family. It doesn’t mean you can’t be a bit petty towards him.

You have noticed how Lyle tried to get you to open up, anytime he had the time, he would look for you and try to talk to you, you immediately shut him down and walk away from him. If only you looked back, you would see how his ears flick downwards.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“You have to be faster than that, ” you giggle as you swiftly land on a different branch, avoiding Lopez hands. He quickly doubles back and tries to hold his balance on the branch above you.

You’ve been teaching them on how to hunt and practice their balance, and cause you wanted to fuck with the recoms, you thought a game of tag will help. It helped with Lo’ak and Neteyam, it could help the recoms.

The recoms seems to like the game of chase, they like the thrill of it, like it was instinct. You running around the trees, jumping from branch to branch, tree to tree. You felt free, besides the tracker that the Colonel made you wear on your wrist.

You had half of the unit trying to catch you, Lyle, Lopez, Ja, and Prager, while the others stayed behind, mostly Quaritch stayed behind to watch your movements from the tracking device in his hands. He didn’t want to risk you running off. His words? You plan to run off, I’ll bring you back with your ass bruised. Well that was kind of a tempting offer might you add.

“Use your tail as counterbalance. Your tail is what helps you” you shout at them.

“Don’t you see I’m trying, babosa” Lopez curses at you. You couldn’t help but giggle at his obvious agitation.

Your ears twitch hearing silent footsteps behind you. Whoever it was is stealthily as shit, but it still needs work, their sky people cloths makes them loud.

You moved just in time to see Lyle throw his arms out to try and catch you. He didn’t calculate well when he threw himself at you. Barely catching himself on the branch as he hangs on the side of the branch for dear life.

“Damn! You guys suck at this” you grin down at Lyle. Lyle just huffs a laugh as he shakes his head.

Since this game of tag the only people who almost managed to catch you was Lyle and Mansk.

“You’ll need to cut those pants, they make too much noise” you nod your towards his cammies.

“Yeah? You want to see me naked too, Sully?” He grins up at you. You watch as Lyle groans as he pulls himself up. Damn he has good arm strength.

“Maybe” with that, you hop to another branch to crest distance before he could cheat and catch you.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Watching the recom unit try to be Na’vi is entertaining to no end. You and Spider even made bets.

The first bet? Who would be the first to fail to catch a fish.

You had taken the unit to the closest stream, another lesson. To teach them how to hunt. Again you wanted to teach them the bow, but of course they declined, saying *why we need bows if we have guns*

You watch on the sidelines, seeing many of them in their undergarments, trying to catch fish, many failed.

You look back to your hands, weaving a basket for your next trip to get food for your and the others, Prager got pissed when you returned his backpack smelling of sweet fruits and sticky from its juices.

You felt uncomfortable. You hate how these demons acted like they didn’t just kidnapped you and Spider, you hate it even more seeing how Spider is playing with them in the water, distracting the demons from their teaching.

“Thinking pretty hard there, mama” hearing the all to familiar voice of the biggest pain in your ass.

“Please kindly go away, I’m introverting” Quaritch couldn’t hold back a grin at your sarcasm. You’re a spitfire, that’s for sure. He can’t deny that he kinda likes that about you.

“You’re little sarcastic comments will get you into trouble one of these days”

That makes you roll your eyes as you continue to weave your basket, not even bothering to look at him. Just looking at him makes you want to drown him.

“I’ve reach at that point where my brain goes from ‘you probably shouldn’t say that’. To ‘what the hell. Let’s see what happens’” you place the half made basket to the side as you stand to your full height. You walk closer to the stream, kneeling down you pluck two yursyulang from the ground, thanking the great mother. You start making your way to the far side of the stream where the waterfall is.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Quaritch calls for you in irritation. That made you turn to look at him with a glare

“I’m going to bathe unless you want to watch me” you throw your hands up, where does this asshole have the fucking audacity to control you, praying to the great mother to give you patience for these demons.

You turn back around to continue on your way behind the waterfall. You glance back at the unit, you caught Lyle’s gaze before you disappear completely behind the waterfall.

You look at the two pinkish r reddish flowers in your palms, you were planing on washing your cloths and your body. With a sigh, you place the flowers down, you tug the shirt over your head and toss it carelessly to the side, along with the sweatpants.

You sit on the edge, letting your body slide into the water on a rock, not fully in the water, you quietly moan in relief as your shoulders relax, the water is warm and earthy-smelling, crystal clear as it laps against your skin like wet silk.

Your arm reach to grab one of the flowers and dip it into the water before rubbing it into your skin on your arms, washing away any dirt from the days in the forest, loving the feeling the flower leaving your skin clean and soft. You continue cleaning the rest of your body.

You slid further into the water, dipping your head, wetting your braids. You rub the flower between your hands, leaving a milky substance, once you’re satisfied, you start washing your hair and scalp.

Once done, you start washing the cloths, dipping the cloths into the water, you start rubbing the flower against the cloths and scrub the cloths onto a rock.

“Having fun?” You jump at the voice and snap your head to entranceway of the waterfall. Seething the female recom.

“Can I help you?” You snarl before turning back to scrubbing the cloths against the rock, not really caring that the woman is seeing you naked. The Na’vi are comfortable in their own bodies, you’re no different, besides the insecurities of your heritage.

“Just checking on you” she shrugs as she eyes your figure as she tilts her head.

“Let me guess, the demon ordered you to check on me, to make sure I didn’t make a run for it?” You sarcastically made without even looking at her.

Zee chuckles before walking a little closer, not too close. “Is it obvious?”

“Very”

Zee watches you curiously, her eyes gaze down at your body, seeing multiple scares across your body. You’re obviously a warrior, it’s clear from the cloths you were wearing and the scars imprinted around your body.

Zee and many others of team are intrigued by you, not because you were Jake Sully’s daughter but your discrepancy. You look exactly like your father with some similarities to your mother. The extra finger and the hairy eyebrows is what gave it away that you were a half breed.

When you were heavily sedated back at Bridgehead. Zee remembers Lyle talking about how you have Heterochromia iridum. Zee is no expert or scientist but she knows that isn’t normal for the Na’vi., She remembers Jake Sully, she knows Jake didn’t have that, maybe his twin brother had it? You were also curvier, thick! But strong, she heard from Mansk on how you were able to take him down so easily. It amazes her, how a runt like you was able to take down not only one but three men that were twice your size.

Zee also notice how closed off you are. She seen how Lyle tries to make conversation with you but you instantly shut him out and You like pissing Quaritch off. She’s could see the discomfort and mistrust in your eyes when you’re with the group while Spider instantly bonded with them.

“You don’t like us very much don’t you?” Zee ask. You huff a laugh amusingly before turning to look at her.

“Try getting kidnapped by Na’vi wannabes, be forced to teach them the Na’vi way. Get threaten by the asshole of a Colonel, then we’ll talk. Don’t get it twisted, I’m not doing this from the goodness of my heart, I’m doing this to make sure you demons don’t lay a finger on Spider”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“You know, if you wanted time alone, all you had to do was ask” Lyle climbs onto the thick branch that you’re sitting on. You groan seeing his presence once again. It’s like he loves annoying you

Lyle sits sideways on the branch, a few inches away from you. You’re facing him with your back against the tree.

Since the conversation with Zee, you ignored everyone, including Spider. You wanted time alone, and you can’t even have that with Lyle following you around like a lost cub.

“Ever heard of ‘wanting time away from the kids’” you huff in annoyance. It’s past Eclipse, many of the recoms are still awake, chatting away, you could hear laughter from up where you were.

“Ouch” Lyle places his hand to his heart with faux pain. “Just came to check on you. You seemed pretty pissed off back at the stream”

“How caring” you roll your eyes. Your head tilts upwards to look up at stars, letting the cool air graze your skin so lovingly. You miss Rawm, you know he misses you. You want to fly again, feel the breeze in your face, blowing at your hair.

“I want you to teach me Na’vi”

“Spider is teaching you” you look at Lyle with a deadpan look. Lyle grins seeing the annoyance clear in your eyes.

“I learn better when I have pretty face teaching me” Lyle scoots a little closer to you. Your ears tilt down as the end of your tail sways side to side next you.

“How charming” with a sigh, you sit up, crossing your legs. “Fine”

——

“Sevin”

“Seven”

“No! Skxáwng!” Your hand smacks the side of head, a small ‘ow’ falls from his lips as he looks at you in surprise.

“Again! Sevin? Seee-vin!” You growl, you’re growing frustrated with the Corporal in front of you. Lyle changed his sitting position to sit cross cross in front you.

“This is stupid! I’m clearly saying it right!” Your hand reach out to slap his head again for his ignorance.

“Ow! Stop slapping me!” Lyle groans as he rubs at his head. You ignore him and his childish antics

“Again!” You demand, you watch Lyle grumble as he tries to pronounce the word.

“Sevin” Lyle says perfectly, making you smile.

“Yes” you squeal at his accomplishment as you clap your hands.

“What does that mean?” Lyle question.

“Pretty”you answer with a smile. You look down at the small camp below you, hearing their laughter getting louder, hearing Spider scolding them, warning them of predators.

You feel hands caressing your hands before gently holding them, your turn to look at Lyle, looking at you with such admiration. Your breath hitch, as you gaze into his eyes.

“ngeyä nari lu sevin” (you’re eyes are pretty) your eyes widen at his perfect Na’vi. You feel your body warm up, you sheepishly look down at Lyle’s hands clutch yours.

You notice Lyle is not wearing his gloves, his hands bare as they hold yours. His hands engulfing yours, you see his hands are twice the size of yours.

Before you could register it, you start tracing the veins on the back his hands. You never met anyone with hands like yours, not counting Lo’ak, Kiri, your dad and the avatars back at High Camp. You compare the size of your hands to Lyle’s. He has beautiful hands.

“You have beautiful hands, why hide them behind those ugly gloves?” You didn’t what compelled you to ask. Lyle looks away from your hands to you.

“Don’t know, I just-“ Lyle shrugs, “I just do” he doesn’t take his eyes off you. He’s mesmerized by you, he didn’t understand why, maybe cause you’re exotic looking, you look completely different from the other Na’vi he’d seen and that includes Zee and Walker.

Eye contact is such an intense thing. Like a million thoughts rush through your mind all while looking into someone’s soul… intriguing…

Eye contact is dangerous, dangerous thing. But lovely, oh so lovely.

Looking up at him, you notice how he’s only staring at you, a gentle look on his face. Why is he looking at you like that?

“Y/n?!?” Hearing Spider call for you snaps you out of your daze. You look away, feeling embarrassed, pulling your hands out of Lyle’s grasp.

“I have to go” you didn’t bother hearing if Lyle responds as you swiftly jump down branch to branch so easily.

“Fuck” Lyle curses as he aggressively wipe down his face with his hand, not being able to his eyes off of you.

(Lyle’s hands are fucking gorgeous, you have to agree with me on that, also when was anyone going to tell me that I spelled Lyle’s last name wrong, now I look stupid and have to edit his name on my other chapters. How embarrassing)

Taglist: @alexandra-001 @commanderrivercc-3628 @henhouse-horrors @certainkittenpeach

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/aninelover21-blog/731326408887042048/bound-to-you-masterlist

(Who do you think would catch Y/n’s heart first? Lyle or Miles? I’ll love to hear your opinions)

#miles quaritch x reader #recom lyle wainfleet #sully reader #lyle wainfleet x reader #recom miles quaritch #spider x reader #polyamory #throuple #polyamarous #miles quaritch x reader x lyle wainfleet #I wanna be yours

[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the liar

— summary: hoseok lied about choosing you, namjoon lied about leaving you, but the biggest liar of them all is you

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 9.1k

— warnings: mentions of food poisoning, mentions of starving, fear of food, allusions to eating disorder, manipulation, y/n isn't in her right mind, talks of death, death attempt, ptsd

— PART 17 / previous post / masterpost

“Isn’t she pretty?” You say as you play with the white thin strings that hold the doll upright. “A pretty little doll, so perfect.”

She wears a white dress that falls to her ankles, dark black hair held in an updo, eyes that flutter open and close each time you move her head up and down, her wrists, back, head, and legs all held up by thin strings.

So petite and fragile.

“Look Dasom, watch this.” You stand from your seat, the strings in one hand as you hold it up into the air, and reach for the scissors. Dasom watches, lips sealed, her back standing straight with hands held behind. You take the scissors and you stare right at her, cutting the strings where they’re held together in your hands.

And down the doll falls in an instant.

Breaking.

Dasom doesn’t flinch.

“Pitiful, isn’t she?” You place the scissors onto the table and crouch down to pick the broken doll up. The wrists where the strings held caused her hand to detach from her body, a leg twisted, a knee to her foot also detached, bits of pieces broken like scars, no longer a part of her body anymore, and one eye remains wide open while the other falls half-lidded. 

“The doll once belonged to someone, until it was passed over and promised by a new owner to always hold on and never let go. The new owner treated her well for some time but unexpectedly, they decided to cut all the strings and as a result, here she lies, broken on the ground, and returned to the previous owner to…reattach the strings once more.” You look up at her as you stand back up again and place the doll on the table, right next to the scissors. “You understand that, don’t you? After all, when we first met, you were the same; a perfect little doll forcibly passed onto my father.”

Dasom remains quiet but you see the way she clenches her jaws and you look back down at the doll. You take the hand that broke away itself from the body after its fall and look at it for some time.

“We’re the only ones who can fix ourselves, Dasom. If we trust in anyone else, who’s to say they won’t break us more than we are now? That’s why you cannot trust anyone, not even I. Because one day, I may betray you. Just as one day, you may betray me. Do not look at me as your savior, do not get blinded for even a moment, because when it comes down to it, one day…I may even end up just like my father and hurt you all over again. And when that moment comes, if I ever betray your trust and become the person my father was…your trust in me will hurt you more than anything. So never trust me, Dasom. Never.”

She stands alone in the room when you leave, heels clicking away, head never turning back for a second glance.

Dasom stands there for the longest time, staring at the broken doll who lays on the table, the scissors right beside her, and just before any memories can fall into her thoughts, the door opens to reveal Mingyu.

“What did boss tell you?” He asks when he walks in, and pauses momentarily at the broken doll on the table, before he looks at Dasom again, a mark of concern on his features. “Did she say something out of line?”

She looks up, meeting his gaze as her shoulder tenses even more. “She reminded me not to trust her,” she says, her brows furrowed. “She warned me to not look at her as a savior, that there will always be a chance she may end up like her father, like my perpetrator, like our perpetrator…..like her perpetrator….and that where we are now is just a fleeting moment in time, that just because she saved me doesn’t mean she can’t also be the one to cut my strings and I’ll end up more broken than I am…was.”

Mingyu keeps his eyes on her when she reaches for the doll, caressing it while throwing the scissors roughly to the side. Away from view.

“She said that only I can fix whatever was broken when my family was still alive and when her father still lived.”

“So. Do you believe her?”

“No,” she says without hesitation, eyes looking up at him with desperation meant for him to understand. “Because she saved me. She fixed me. Us. She took all the pieces that make up the Reapers, sewed our hands and feet, opened our eyes, helped us stand and run and fight, and become the sort of people that we are now, strong enough to protect her, to return the kindness that she had in her heart to fix what had been left broken by the people that have hurt us but we’ll never be enough, will we? No matter what we do, we’ll never be able to save her.”

“...” Mingyu takes a step forward to gently caress the hair of the broken doll in Dasom’s hand. He smooths down the disheveled mess and plays with the broken eye, silent for a moment, before he utters the words that the Reapers know yet hate to hear the most.

“Because boss doesn’t want to be saved.”

.

.

.

There is one part of the manor you’ve never returned to ever since destroying and rebuilding what your father cherished ever since that night you came back with news of his death and decided to rid all of his followers. There is one part of the manor you left untouched, one part of the manor even your reapers do not go near; your annex.

Where resides your old room, Mister Butler’s old room, the torture rooms; Yuna’s room 157, and,

The White Room.

You don’t know why your feet have decided to drag you down here, why you’re walking this way. It’s been months after all, months. You remember your eyes catching a glimpse of the calendar in that room you were in with Dasom and realize that it’s almost been a year since you decided to pursue your revenge plan.

It’s almost been a year.

A year.

A year since your father’s death, a year since his life ended and you seeking for your supposed lost freedom, a year since you’ve met with your ex-boyfriends, ex-husband, and although the revenge isn’t even a step close to being completed, perhaps now is when Namjoon will decide upon going back to the two of you never seeing each other again.

It won’t be unexpected.

You’ve given him the bait, after all, told him you killed his precious older brother, so you’re sure there’s only so little time left before he calls you over to discuss business on the alliance. After taking some time for grievance and taking in what you told him, he’ll end things.

It’ll end soon and you won’t have to see them ever again.

It’ll end soon.

So perhaps the reason why you’re walking towards an empty room, Mister Butler’s room, is for this very fact; to apologize.

Because if you can’t give Namjoon the truth, if you have to hold your peace forever and make him think you’re the bad guy, make him believe that all those hopes and dreams he had were for naught and turn you into the villain that you are so that he can hate you and push you away, the least you can do is apologize to his older brother.

Because despite how cruel Namjoon was to you in the last weeks of your broken marriage, Mingyu is right in saying that he didn’t deserve what you’ve done.

Meeting toxicity with toxicity will only fire back in the end.

And even if you did have a good reason, it’s still a selfish reason.

But Namjoon was getting too close to your liking. He was beginning to doubt, beginning to question, and you didn’t like questions because questions meant getting close to the truth, questions meant doubting the facade you pull every day in front of everyone, questions meant reviewing the past and realizing something was wrong from the very beginning.

You can’t have him doubting your happy fairytale with your father, the story made of rainbows and sunshine, the house of cards you and your father created with your hard work and easy lies.

Letting him think you’re the bad guy is the only thing you can do.

The hallway down the annex is daunting. 

Terrifying.

You hate all the repressed memories that wish to reappear, the cold air it carries, the ghosts of the past trying to touch your shoulder and crawl back into your life. It’s dark, so dark, and with each step echoes the daunting wails of the ghosts who hold onto your ankles, unwilling to let go.

The air is heavy, hoping to drag you down with the memories. Your footsteps are heavy.

You hate the distant screams you hear in the back of your mind. You hate the silence.

The silence.

The silence.

You feel your hands trembling, the way your knees falter and the heels underneath you threaten to twist. It feels numb. Your legs feel numb. But you keep your eyes straight ahead, not daring to take a glance to the side otherwise all those memories you’ve tried so hard to keep hidden will resurface and you can’t have that.

You can’t have it.

So when you reach Mister Butler’s room, you just simply stand right before it, facing it head-on but refusing to reach a hand out, twist the knob, and take a step in.

You stand there, staring.

You know that the room is empty; no furniture, no presence, nothing, and so you keep it that way because you’d rather imagine there is something in there.

His old bed, his old closet, the precious things that he kept in that room……Him.

Him.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, head lowered, eyes falling to your feet, bowed into a ninety-degree level. “I’m sorry.”

There is no one here, no one except you, but you still feel the coziness in the lost fragments of your memories, the only warmth in this annex, distant but felt, just like in the past. A gentle child’s voice echoes in your ears, laughing. An older gentleman follows along, kind and sweet just as it always was.

Why did he have to come here? Why couldn’t he have stayed at his own home? Why did he care for a child who held no relation to him?

He should have stayed, shouldn’t have taken up the mission his father gave him, stayed with his little brother and he’d have still been alive.

In meeting you, he died. In loving you, his life was taken away.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say softly, knowing he hears every word you utter whether it’s barely audible or not. “I’ve hurt your little brother, told him a lie he believed in, crushed his hopes of seeing you reappear in his life ever again. I’m sorry for hurting him…If you were here, would you forgive me? Mister Butler, I…please…tell me what to do…”

There were times when you wished everything had been nothing but a long, long nightmare. Times when you’d wake up and run to Mister Butler’s room just around the corner, hoping, searching, just to see nothing.

No warmth. No smile. No kindness.

No Mister Butler.

He told you about his little brother once. Once. When he was tired and you were on the brink of falling asleep. You remember the gentle hand that patted your head ever so often, his voice soft when he spoke of his brother, eyes filled with happiness but with a bit of regret, a bit of guilt, a bit of longing.

He wanted to return, you realized years later and to this day you still wonder why he hadn’t. He should have, he had his chances, you were sure of it. If Namjoon and his father are both men known for their intelligence, then you’re sure Mister Butler should have been able to make his escape with the brain that he had.

But he never left and sometimes you wonder.

Was it because of you?

Did he stay because of you?

“I killed him,” the words repeat in the back of your head as you recall Namjoon’s confrontation. You may have not been the one to have pulled the trigger but perhaps you were the cause for it. Father told you he shot him because he was your weakness and perhaps father knew at the time he was an enemy in disguise, but at the end of the day, Mister Butler could have escaped.

“I killed him because of you,” Father said and for a while, you believed it. But there was another time you doubted his words, believed that it was just his way of manipulating you once more, that he was just saying it because he wanted to hurt a little kid like you.

And now that you think about it, perhaps you really did kill him. Because father’s right.

If it wasn’t for you, he would have been an ordinary man who didn’t catch father’s attention. If it wasn’t for you, father wouldn’t have cared about his existence. The very fact that Mister Butler looked out for you, cared for you, showed you kindness, and loved you, was the very reason father saw through him and decided to kill him.

If it wasn’t for you, he could have lived.

He could have lived.

You bite onto your lower lip, hard, and a memory resurfaces.

“Don’t bite too hard, young miss, you’ll bleed.”

He’s crouched down to your level, a hand reaching out to swipe along your lips when your teeth bite against it, while his other hand holds your head in gentle strokes, soothing whatever it is that has upset you this time.

“..Why?” You croak out, tears held back as you stare up at him with wide, bulged-out eyes, not daring to blink otherwise the tears will roll down your cheeks. Father says crying is weak. Father hates tears and you don’t want him to keep hating you.

You have to be loved. You have to earn his love. And only good girls can be loved. Only strong girls.

“If I do this, then it’ll be easier to not cry.”

Mister Butler knits his brows, that kind smile replaced by pained anguish. “If you do that, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t care,” you say. “Father doesn’t like people who cry and if I keep being weak, I’ll never earn father’s love. I have to earn his love otherwise I’ll never be capable of love and—”

He cuts you off when he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them around your petite body and pressing your face into his chest. “Don’t say that.” His voice sounds so odd when he says that. “Don’t, please..please don’t.” As if he were the one in pain, as if he were the one hurting in your stead, like an older brother who can’t bear the sight of his little sister in pain. Like it’s physically hurting him that you’re hurting. “You are worth so much more than what your father thinks of you as, my lady.”

“But I..I’m not.” You try to force yourself away from his embrace, hands balling into fists as you punch his chest and push him away. You can never be anywhere stronger than Mister Butler but he lets go, leaves because you want him to go. “If you keep showing me kindness, if you keep spoiling me, I will never get strong.”

“You don’t have to be strong.”

“But I do! Because then father will never love me!”

His face contours in pained frustration as he clenches his jaw and when you think about it now, perhaps what Mister Butler wanted to say was ‘Your father will never love you no matter how weak or strong you are’ and he’s right. Father is a monster who cannot love another human being.

But the little you then would never understand and would only hurt more if he were to utter such words.

So he swallows those words and holds your shoulders, keeping his anger in to not scare you off.

“Do you think of yourself as incapable of being loved because you are weak?” He asks and you nod.

“I can’t be loved. No one will love me if I’m weak.”

“I love you,” Mister Butler says. “I love you,” he stresses. “I promise I love you so please…please cry.” He cups your tiny face in his large hands, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You don’t have to hold it in, young miss. When you’re around me, you don’t have to worry about trying to act proper and trying to act strong because I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. You can lash out, you can throw a tantrum, you can scream at me and hit me and spit in my face and—”

“I’d never!” You quickly shout, face contouring in horror as if the very thought of it could break you. “I’d never, Mister Butler, I’d never.”

“I know,” he nods, pressing his forehead to yours, “I know but my lady, you…you don’t have to worry about anything because no matter what happens, I’ll love you. Even if you cry, young miss, I’m right here. I won’t leave, I won’t throw you away so it’s okay. It’s okay to cry because I’m here. I’ll still love you no matter what. So stop holding those tears in, yeah? Cry. It’s alright to cry.”

“But..-”

“No one’s here. No one can hear you in this room. It’s soundproof and no one ever comes around in these halls so it’s okay. No one can hear you except me. And I love you so it’s okay. It’s okay, young miss. It’s okay to cry.”

Your lips quiver, trembling, and he nods, encouraging you. When the first tear falls with consent, the rest follows and you close your eyes shut, allowing them all to fall like rushing waterfalls.

Against all the things your father had instilled in you, Mister Butler doesn’t leave, he doesn’t discard you. He presses your face into his chest, holds you as tight as he can, and in the sounds of your cries, you don’t realize that he trembles slightly, afraid, frightened, and angry.

You don’t remember the last time you cried but you know that it was before Mingyu came. Before he arrived.

You were broken before he arrived so Yuna is the only Reaper who has ever seen you cry but you don’t know if she can recall the exact moment you stopped shedding tears.

It’s been a while even you can’t remember. Your memories are hazy from those times, when things were rougher, when it was only Yuna who watched you every day like a frightened child losing their precious mother who lied on their deathbed.

Yuna was the only one who saw you through it all, who was there when you still had a soft heart, innocent and precious, who smiled kindly. She was there to see that light stripped away from your eyes, right there when you had let the darkness win, when you succumbed to it.

When you fell silent. Completely silent.

When you broke.

She was right there. The only Reaper to know and to remember all that you were and all that was lost. She may never be able to see again but you remember those eyes, those eyes that were far too young to see such a thing happening right before her.

Those precious eyes that you yourself had to rid of.

Perhaps that’s why in some ways, the others are a little gentler towards her and allow her to take care of your needs when Mingyu isn’t there. Perhaps that’s why they let her near you when you don’t want anyone in.

And perhaps that’s why you let her in.

Because she knows and because she remembers the things even you can’t remember.

Yuna remembers. She remembers everything.

But she was too young to lead the Reapers, too young to know everything on what to do when it came to you and your needs. You needed so much, too much, and her young mind wouldn’t allow her to think things through properly to know just what to do.

When you’d panic, when you’d freeze up, when you’d grow angry, when you’d refuse to eat anything, when you’d get silent, completely silent.

You needed to be saved and Yuna didn’t know how to do it.

She was too young.

While she knew how to comfort and provide you warmth, you needed much more than that, you needed a foundation that could hold you steady and keep you grounded. You needed Mingyu.

And Mingyu came.

And together, the two of them became the first Reapers only loyal to you, building something much stronger than anyone could ever imagine.

You saved Dasom, Mingyu allowed her to pledge her allegiance, and together with Yuna, they taught her on what she needed to know.

Then Yeonjun came along and the same thing repeated over and over again until you created a network of Reapers under your own control, who were loyal to you, and who hated your father all the same.

None of them, except Yuna, has ever seen you cry.

Not even Mingyu.

But you’ll never show them now, or ever. Because you’ve lost it all. 

Your eyes can no longer cry.

Father has trained you well.

“My lady?” You hear footsteps, two pairs, and look up to find Yuna and Yeonjun walking toward you.

How they knew where to find you, you’ll never know, but you guess no matter what happens, your Reapers will always manage to find you wherever you are so you shouldn’t be surprised.

They take one look at the door beside you and they can already imply just why you were down here in the annex where you’ve forbidden yourself to come to. There’s something in Yuna’s hand which she hides away behind her back after taking a glance at the door, but you’ve already caught sight of it; it’s a letter.

A letter. Which means Namjoon has finally decided to formally end things.

You ignore it.

“Yuna. Yeonjun.” They come at your call. “I hate this place,” you say. “I hate it. I hate it.”

The air feels heavier, trying to constrict your breathing, something weighing on your chest, something trying to tear you down.

Your hand trembles when you reach out and Yuna’s right there to help you keep steady on your feet as Yeonjun offers his back to you. You climb on with some effort, eyes shut tightly closed as you press your face into his shoulder, hating everything about this annex.

It’s cold, too cold. You tighten your hold on Yeonjun, terrified and wanting the ground to swallow you whole so that you can disappear forever. You want to get out. Get out.

Everything screams at you in your head, the ghosts of the past reappearing, the distant sound of a little girl crying and begging and pleading for someone, anyone, while the two guards stand completely silent outside the doors of the White Room, not moving a single inch despite how hard she screams at them to come, to save her.

You hear it loud and clear in your head.

Loud and loud and loud in the silence of the annex.

Yeonjun runs out of here in an instant.

.

.

.

“Are you disappointed?” You ask, a small tilt in your head, raising a brow, with a quirk to the corner of your lips.

You look calm, carefree, and that playful smirk on your face is almost taunting him but Hoseok knows better than that. He knows not to take the bait in the same way Namjoon and the others have. This is just a facade. 

A facade.

“How can I be disappointed…when it wasn’t you who killed him?” He asks and there’s a small little falter in your lips.

The sharp corner falls and your eyelids rest to show your disappointment in him not catching the fishing hook you’ve dropped into the pond. You look upset, as if wondering why he still wishes to believe in you, why he still remembers the girl you once were when you lived with them, when you loved them dearly and when they loved you the same.

Hoseok stares right at you, unblinking, and perhaps that’s what makes you take a step back, hating his strong pursuit in not believing the words that leave your mouth, hating that he makes you falter, that he seems to hold power over you.

You look away, not wanting him to search through your eyes, and utter, “There’s no use believing in the girl you thought you knew.”

“Just like how I shouldn’t have believed in the girl who lied to me about being alright?” He asks, stopping you from turning your feet and walking away from him. You’re here for Namjoon, he knows, and sooner or later this alliance between the two gangs may fall apart but before any of that can happen, before he can never see you ever again unless by chance, Hoseok has to say something.

Anything.

Before it’s too late.

“You never told me you went on your knees,” he says, jaws clenched.

“Why would I have told you that?”

“Do you think it’s shameful being desperate for something? Wanting love and attention from your loved ones?”

“I don’t know, Hoseok,” you look up at him, shrugging, challenging him, “why don’t you ask Namjoon that?”

He bites his inner cheek, eyes drifting off to the side because he knows. If there were anyone he should have asked that question to, it would be Namjoon. 

“I could have done something,” he says, voice quieter, upset.

You laugh at those words, shaking your head. “Oh Hoseok, there was nothing you could have done at that point. Once a man like Namjoon makes up his mind, not even the strongest wind can make him bend a knee.” Ironic how you were the one begging instead. “He stopped loving me and the rest followed along because to them, to..you, I will always come second to Namjoon.”

“That’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” you cut him off sharply, eyes piercing. “The number one rule in the mafia is to never betray the gang otherwise you die, and obviously Namjoon would never kill any of you but you have nothing left without the gang right? Even if you had known the truth then, even if they had told you every last detail about what happened, you would have ended up just like the rest of the boys. You would have chosen Namjoon, and I would have been left all alone without anyone to rely on.” With a bitter smile curled along your lips, your eyes drift down to the floor, a flash of memory falling through your mind. “Don’t you think I kept everything a secret from you for a reason?”

You look back up at him, a pressed smile, “To hold onto that last piece of fantasy I blinded myself into living before letting it all fall apart. You would have ended up like them, Hoseok, like the rest of the boys. Even if they still loved me then, even if it was against their will what Namjoon did and even if they resented Namjoon for some time for it, that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It hurts because you would have done the same, whether you think that’s true or not, you would have chosen Namjoon, it’s only inevitable.”

You begin to turn away from him, walking off. “You all loved him more than I, after all, and I would have been your second choice as well. Don’t lie to yourself, Jung Hoseok.”

Hoseok doesn’t have a say before you’re walking away, leaving him alone in the halls as he hears your heels clicking away.

.

.

.

It’s silent.

A deafening silence.

You can never get used to silence no matter how long you’ve spent almost your entire life drowned in it because when it’s silent, your mind likes to speak. It likes to act. It likes to play with you.

Playing and playing and playing until you get too exhausted it drains all that you are.

You hate silence.

Hate it more than anything.

More than your father perhaps.

“So,” hence you’re the one to break it with a leg crossing over the other, leaning back as you play on an easygoing expression as if Mister Butler’s death meant nothing to you and that despite how much you came to resent Namjoon, letting him know that his brother died did nothing to your conscience. 

“Shall we get straight to the point? We’re ending things, yeah?”

His thick brows knit, chin protruding in the way it always does when he’s angry or serious, his inner cheeks bitten upon.

That’s right, hate me some more.

“Do you have nothing to say?” He keeps his voice restrained, holding back his emotions, but you want to push his buttons. Want him to hate you with all that he has.

“Did you want an apology? Want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness like that night almost eleven years ago?”

“Y/N.”

“I can do it if you’d like,” you uncross your legs, standing, “I have no shame after all.”

“Y/N.”

On your knees, “I apologize for—”

“Stop!” He shouts at you, eyes reddening and there are signs of fatigue, nights he spent restless, nights he spent shedding tears for the news that you gave him, the bags he doesn’t care to hide, hair imperfect, disheveled, different from his perfect image, the stare in his eyes holding so many emotions it’s a surprise he’s deciding not to hide them before you.

Namjoon is a man who holds his walls up high.

Not as high as you but high enough.

He isn’t one to let people read him that easily yet here he is, emotions on full display.

Awkwardly, you stand back up to sit back down on the seat provided for you, feigning an exasperated sigh as if all of this was just a hindrance to your schedule and you’d rather run off killing the people on your hit list.

Namjoon presses his fingers to his temples, trying to keep himself controlled and calm and you frown at the fact that he isn’t lashing out more at you.

You want him to hate you even more than he feels now.

“Why?” He asks, voice strained and quieter.

You shrug. “Was I supposed to know it was your brother I killed then? We didn’t even know each—”

“You found out your old butler was my brother when you approached me again after ten years. You knew he was dead then and you used that to your advantage, hitting me at my weakest. Why?”

“Why?” You feign a chuckle as if the answer was that obvious. “To use you, of course. I needed your power, Namjoon. As a newly developed leader in the mafia world, climbing up the ranks was easy doing it alongside you. You got me to go up against Daejung, helped with Ying and Jummy, and even came to London with me. Not to mention your position as my ally itself scored me a lot of bonuses. Why wouldn’t I have used you? You made a great pawn on my chess board.”

A pawn, right.

“That was all I ever was to you, right? So isn’t it fair I did the same to you?”

He hates that silly little smile you press his way.

“Did none of my sincerity ever mean anything to you?”

The talks of the past, a face of offense as if you’re the only one at fault here. Your little smile falls, though a rueful chuckle leaves your lips. “You talk of the past as if it was just a few years ago. It’s not been a few years, Namjoon, it’s been ten, almost eleven. And in that span of time, a lot has changed. Do you still blindly believe I’m still the person I was then in the same way Hoseok still believes in it?”

His eyes harden. “I know you aren’t the same.”

“That’s right, I’ve changed. You used me as a pawn then, right? Discarded my feelings, all my sincerity, and threw me out when I was no longer useful to you. Why should it matter what I do to you now?”

“I didn’t use anyone you loved against you.”

“You used the boys against me.” You stand from your seat, glaring his way, and he follows suit. “You admitted it, Namjoon, you fell out of love with me, but you falling out of love doesn’t mean it’d be the same for the boys but in the end, they chose you.”

“How is that my fault?”

“It is your fault. A lot of their actions were their own faults but they were entirely your fault. Having you first, loving you first, and having gotten saved by you left them with no other choice but to choose you. If I had fallen out of love with you, they would have still chosen you. Don’t you get that? I wasn’t ever going to be a choice in that relationship, I was always on the losing end, and I would have inevitably gotten tossed away to the side whether you stopped loving me or not. If you had just stopped loving me, why didn’t you just say that? Why did you have to be a coward and made me believe I wasn’t ever going to be enough for you?”

“You ended up fine anyways,” he argues, “It’s not like you had nowhere else to go. Your father accepted you back with open arms.”

Ended up fine?

Your father welcomed you back with open arms?

You laugh.

Laugh.

And Namjoon watches with slight confusion plastered on his face as fits of laughter leaves your lips so obnoxiously you almost sound crazy and out of your mind.

You are crazy and out of your mind because it sounds so funny to you, his words. Your shoulders tremble, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as your eyes crinkle into crescent moons.

“You..really…” It starts to die down, slowly. “So that’s what it was, huh? You decided to play with my feelings, feign the fact that I wasn’t enough so I’d hate you and willingly divorce you on my own so I could return to my dear loving father? That was the story?” When he doesn’t answer your question, the silence answers itself.

Namjoon fell out of love and he thought the best decision to make everyone hurt a little less was to return you to your dear father.

Your father.

Where you’d live out a fantasy and be that lovely little daughter protected by a father, loved and cherished by her people, and not get thrown into a lonely room, a cold, white room. Where you did not get neglected, wondering what her next meal would be because sometimes they come in small platters, or sometimes they don’t come at all, or sometimes you’d get too afraid of it being poisoned because your father has tried to kill you before as a child.

Once? Twice? No.

You can’t count how many times you believed over and over again as a child, thought the food was okay, only to end up in bed sick in the body for days and left on your own to take care of your own self.

Father wanted you dead and he did what he could to try and kill you. You don’t know when he stopped, or if he ever did, because by the time you learned to stop believing in the food he fed you, you started relying on your own self to grab the food you were sure hadn’t gotten touched yet by anyone.

So came the days when you stopped eating, when you wouldn’t eat at all.

Sometimes just bread crumbs you could find in the kitchen, sneaking out in the middle of the night when almost everyone was asleep, stealing bread.

So when you returned, the nightmares and fear returned. 

Because Bangtan never gave you wasted food or anything that was poisoned. You remember it well, remember keeping your eyes open and pointed, watching the way the servers would serve food in random order, watching the way everyone took a bite first before having enough courage to eat yourself.

You never showed them your fears so they never knew and they still don’t.

But you’ve always been afraid of food.

And Yuna was the first person you ever trusted to make you food when you returned to the Reaper’s manor. You only ate what she gave you.

Only ate whatever she could make with her horrible cooking skills; eggshells in her egg sandwiches, food too salty, too bitter, too dirty in color, and sometimes they weren’t even edible.

But you ate them because she was the only person you could trust. The only one.

If she poisoned you it’d be an accident but you still ate it because it was Yuna. The first Reaper, the very first one. The only one you could trust.

The only one.

“You know, I’m glad your brother’s dead.”

Words uttered that don’t have any emotions behind them at all but you utter them with disgust, with contempt, and with hatred for the one who forced you back into that hell and made you fear for every second you lived in that manor when your father was still alive.

There were days when you didn’t eat at all, days when brought into the White Room, you’d just lie there against the wall or on the floor, eyes blank and dull, no hope left in them, no words escaping, no cries for help, no more calling for Hoseok because no one would come.

No one.

Nothing kept you warm except a flimsy old blanket Yuna would put on you but even that wasn’t enough to keep your temperature up.

Or sometimes your temperature would get too high and you’d tremble in that lonely room. The echoes of Yuna’s cries ringing in your ears but you don’t remember a lot of it because every day was like that; painful until you could feel no more.

Painful until you decided to get stronger, to feel all of your father’s wrath and all of his torture.

Hurting even more.

Namjoon will never know what his actions had put you through. He’ll never know.

“Excuse me?” So he glares at you when you tell him those words about his brother, believing in your lies, believing in your anger.

You see the way his eyes shake, hands balling into fists and if you were a man, you’re sure he wouldn’t have held himself back from hauling a punch right onto your face. It’s funny to you, so funny, because you want him to hit you, you want him to hurt you.

You want to feel the pain.

“You..you’re a monster.”

“That’s right, I am.” You play along with his anger, fueling it, wanting him to hate you even more. “I’m a monster, Namjoon. I killed the father who loved me so dearly and I killed the butler who showed me nothing but kindness. Do you know how gentle he was with me? When I’d cry, he’d hold me, when I’d bite onto my lower lips to keep the tears in, he’d worry about my lips bleeding. He’d give me extra treats, stealing the sweets when no one was looking. He’d ask ‘my lady, have you eaten?’ or ‘young miss, don’t eat too fast, the food isn’t going anywhere.’ And when I’d get in trouble and hide away from the adults, he’d be the very first one who’d find me. He always found me. No matter where I’d hide, no matter where I was, he’d find me. He’d be the first one to notice if something was wrong. Always checked my temperature in the morning, always made sure I was eating well, always made sure he was around to play with me if father was too busy or if mother was too sick to pay attention. Your brother loved me. And you know what I did?”

You show him your fingers, the index and middle pressed up against one another with the thumb off to the side, and slowly point it towards your temple, playing a trigger pulled and jerk your head to the side, laughing in Namjoon’s face.

“I killed him, Namjoon. I killed him. I told the Reapers to pull the trigger and he fell dead right before my foot, shocked I betrayed him.”

Namjoon trembles, eyes drifting off to the side, shaking, unsteady, breath held up against him as if he can’t breathe.

“I killed your brother, Namjoon,” you chant like a psychopath. Chanting, chanting, chanting. “I killed Jungwon, I killed your brother.”

He’s weak in his knees, he can’t hold himself up.

His hands come up to hold his face, breathing in, breathing out, while you chant and chant, until Namjoon looks through the cracks of his fingers, piercing eyes, red, a glare mirroring that of the devil, and it’s then that you realize he must really want to kill you right now.

So you push his buttons even further.

“Kill me, Namjoon.”

His hands slowly and shakily fall from his face, wrinkles in between his brows. “What?”

You take a step forward, ignoring all warning signs from your body because Leehyun still has lasting effects on you, and take Namjoon’s wrists, forcing his hands to wrap around your neck with a strong hold. He tries to pull back but you don’t let him.

“Kill me right now,” you dare, eyes staring straight into his soul. “Do it, do us both a favor, Namjoon. If you hate me that much, you wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.”

For what he did to you, calling you names, belittling you, made you feel unwanted, forced you to rip your ring off, kicked you out, throwing you back to your father. Death feels less painful than all the things you went through when you ran back to the arms of your father. 

For throwing you back into the lion’s den when you had escaped for the first time, Namjoon killing you would have been no different.

“Why don’t you just kill me?”

“Are you crazy?! Let go of me.”

“End me!” You push against his hold, tightening both your hands around your neck. “Do it now! You hate me, don’t you? I’m giving you permission now so just do it! I’m right here in your territory so there’s no one to stop you and even after the Reapers get the news of my death, it’s not as if they can kill you. You're stronger than me, stronger than us, and you have men much stronger than we will ever be. So what’s holding you back? End all of your sufferings and you’ll never have to see my disgusting face ever again. End me..-!”

“Stop!”

In the midst of trying to pull away and rid of his grip around your neck, Namjoon accidentally pushes you too hard so you end up on the floor and his eyes widen, a gasp leaving his lips. “Y/N, I—”

“Kill me already!” You’re shouting still, wheezing from the chokehold, coughs leaving you, and while he gets distracted by those painful coughs, your eyes find the gun he placed on the coffee table just before the talk and rush to reach for it.

Only to have it snatched away by your ex-husband.

He presses something on his watch and the door opens, revealing Yoongi and Seokjin.

“Detain her,” Namjoon commands, and they look with confusion.

“What?”

“She’s not in her right mind.”

Your eyes widen, rushing to stand, only to have someone holding you down. “Namjoon, stop being a coward and do it already!” You twist your body against Yoongi and Seokjin’s holds, trying to push them off. “Kill me already!”

Other footsteps are heard, the rest of them have probably come at the sound of your voice, but you’re still jerking about with all of your might. Why does it matter they’re here now? Rushing into the room, eyes widened and filled with a type of fear that wants to understand what’s happening and why you’re acting the way that you are.

Why does it matter now? Why do they have to act like they care? They could have cared then and it would have made a difference but caring now does nothing for you.

“Y/N-”

“Get off me!”

You use your legs, kicking Seokjin away, and use your head to shoot back and hit Yoongi right on his forehead, causing both their grips to falter for a second, and in that second, you escape from them.

“Y/N-” Namjoon comes to stop you but you punch your fist right into the coffee table, causing the glass to shatter from underneath and allowing your skin to tear, blood pooling all about.

The room falls silent.

Frozen.

“Do you know how much it hurts?” You look up, meeting his eyes. You stare at the gun in his hand, the one you failed to grab, the shattered coffee table, and turn at the rest of them before letting out a chuckle as if everything about this was funny. But it’s not funny. It’s not.

“I thought I stopped feeling long ago but it still hurts,” you say at the hand that bleeds with glass shards cut deep inside your skin but they know you aren’t just talking about your hand. “It hurts so much. But you don’t care one bit, do you? Just like that night years ago when I fell on my knees and begged for the pain to stop. You didn’t care then, why would you care now?”

You look at them again, feeling that familiar ache in your chest, a familiar pain you haven’t felt in a long, long time.

“I never begged for help until that last second but you knew, didn’t you? You knew that I was afraid and that I wanted help. You knew I was hurting. But what did you do but live in ignorance bliss, pretending as if nothing had changed and that Namjoon wasn’t purposefully hurting me just to force me into making a decision that he wanted; me out of your lives. You knew everything and you did nothing. If you tell me you cared then, that you did still love me then, then I call that bullshit because how can you love someone and willingly watch them fall apart?

“Ah but I get it,” you sigh, scoffing, “you couldn’t do anything because it was against the mafia’s code, right? Because Namjoon’s your boss, because loving me still and taking my side meant betraying your boss, the boss that saved you, the boss that loved you. If you went against him, if you chose me over him, that would have meant betraying the gang and you have nothing left if you left the gang, right?”

You look at Namjoon, eyes hardening. “That’s what you did, Namjoon. You forced them into a corner, forced them to choose you. Because of your stubborn and selfish ass, you broke apart what could have worked out if you had only tried just a little bit more. Oh, but why does it matter? Why should you continue trying when I could just return to my dear precious gang and live a life of bliss, escaping your abuse and your selfish acts, returning to the people that actually loved me? Because to you, in your head, you thought that I’d be happier if I was to return rather than remain in a toxic environment right? And then everyone would be happy because no matter how much the guys resented you then, in the end they’d forgive you and you’d all return to loving once again and we’d all live happily, ever, after. Me with my gang. You with yours.”

How funny is that?

Everyone lived happily in the end, happy and joyful and back to loving once again as if those three years with you had never existed in the first place. As if you never existed in the first place.

Everyone lived happily ever after.

Everyone but you.

You turn to your bleeding fist and hold it up to take a closer look, hating how your hand trembles, how you can’t seem to hide your anger and pain and fear this time.

No one says anything, no one answers.

It’s silent. You hate silence.

Leehyun walks into your mind when you remember touching Namjoon and letting Yoongi and Seokjin touch you. They’re all here in this room, watching you, staying completely silent because they know all the words you’ve said are true and have no courage to say anything that will rebuke you.

Your left hand comes up to hold your right arm, hugging yourself against the cold chill that falls down your body.

It’s dark, why is it so dark? You don’t remember the room being this dark when you first entered and no one is moving, no one has done anything to make this room darker but it’s dark. Dark.

And cold.

Father likes it when it’s cold. Father likes it when you tremble like a leaf, telling you that you’re better off getting used to the cold but you never did and you don’t think you ever will.

You hate the cold.

Hate it.

You hate the silence, the dark, and the cold.

And when you look up, this time the faces in the room aren’t clear in your vision anymore. Everyone is a blur so you can’t make out what they look like, how they’re looking at you, if they still look concerned, if they still look the same as they had when they first walked in.

Your chest feels heavy, your throat feels as if someone is holding onto it like that moment you forced Namjoon’s hands around you.

He’s not touching you, he’s a few feet away but he’s not touching you. No one is. But you feel a presence, a heavy presence that constricts your breathing, that touches your skin, the nape of your neck.

Why did you touch him? Why did you force him to touch you?

Get away. Please get away.

You take a step back, afraid, and stumble upon something. Perhaps your own foot. But when someone holds an arm out, you immediately put on a defensive stance.

“Don’t touch me,” you demand. “Don’t come near me.”

You’re shaking.

Shaking.

The room is wide, large, so you move to a corner, away from them, and slide down the wall to rest on your bottom because your legs feel weak, because you can’t keep holding yourself up anymore.

You hear a voice in the distance, someone saying Mingyu’s name, but you don’t know what they’re saying. You feel eyes, eyes, and put your head down, afraid.

A second passes.

A heartbeat.

You count the beat of your heart which drums loud and hard against your chest to let you know that you’re still alive, that you’re still living. You count it.

One beat. Two beats. Three beats.

Mingyu says that if he’s not around, you have to get into a corner where no one can touch you, where no one is around, and listen to your heartbeat. You have to count it until he comes.

Until he comes.

Breathe in and out. Don’t forget to breathe.

Four beats. Five beats.

Six. Seven. Eight…

So Mingyu gets called after Namjoon makes a command and when he arrives, you’re sat in the corner of a room, left alone, head lowered, surrounded by seven men who watch your every move from a distance, not wanting you to ever leave their vision in case you do something irrational again.

He’s shocked at the scene, at the hands that still bleed because you refused any treatment, refused anyone to touch you, to come near you.

Mingyu takes a glance at Namjoon for some answers but he says nothing and only looks away to hide his gun behind his back so Mingyu turns back to you and walks over to you, kneeling before you.

“...Boss,” he calls, gently. He makes sure he doesn’t sound cautious, makes sure he doesn’t sound afraid, worried. “Hey, Boss. I’m here. It’s Mingyu.”

You look up slowly and he has to keep himself back from letting out a gasp at the red ring around your neck. Someone touched you but he knows Namjoon wouldn’t have deliberately hurt you on purpose. Did you do something? What happened? Why are you like this?

You say nothing but those eyes of yours are dead. Tired. And when he presses a hand against your cheek, you lean into it, closing your eyes, nuzzling against the warmth of his palm, and barely utter out;

“.....Take me home, Mingyu.”

When the room empties of your presence, the rest of them turn to Namjoon for an explanation, for anything, wondering what had happened, wondering why you demanded such actions from him, wondering why you were like that when they walked into the room.

But the leader keeps quiet for some time, for the longest time, as he looks out the window where he sees you carried in Mingyu’s arms and getting taken away into a black car. It is only when the car disappears completely from his sight does he speak.

“She didn’t do it,” he says and they keep silent, waiting for him to keep going. Namjoon turns from the window to face them and stares at the corner where you had sat. “There are a lot of things Y/N does but what she does best…” he looks at Hoseok, “is lie.”

He takes the gun from his back, examining it as the memories of you trying to grab it flashes in his mind.

“I killed him, I killed him, I killed him.” You chanted over and over again.

“Even back then she was the same. That part of her will never change.”

“You’re saying..”

“She didn’t kill Jungwon,” he concludes. “And everything we knew about her…everything we thought we knew…..all of it was a lie.”

#bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly au #bts ot7 x reader #bts polyamorous #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #bts mafia au #mafia!bts #bts mafia #bts mafia!au #bts poly!au #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts poly relationship #bts arranged marriage au #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 4 - It’s OK to say NO. (18+)

Summary: … this is not how you two wanted the morning to go, but oh well.

Please, look at the bright 18+. If you are underage or not comfortable with the sexual content, feel free to skip this chapter as the next one starts with a brief summary anyway so you won’t miss anything if you don’t read this one. Cheers <3

Warnings: (Almost) sexual content, swear words, insecurities

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The sun abuses your sensitive eyes as they flutter open around 8AM; the smell of burnt sugar eases the tension that suddenly appears in your chest.

Everything is fine. you are safe. You are alive and well. Yeah. It’s all good.

“Stop wiggling around.” Katsuki murmurs while he snuggles into your hair to hide from the sun. His arms snake around your middle, pulling you closer and your heart makes a somersault in your chest.

Katsuki is beautiful in the morning; the sun makes his hair almost white, his usual frown forgotten in his sleepy daze; he’s absolutely stunning. You bite your lips while your heart rate goes quicker as Katsuki leaves tiny kisses on your neck, still half asleep. It’s hot and wet, lazy but weirdly passionate as he maps out your left side with his mouth without opening his eyes. His hand starts to wander on your belly and slowly crawls underneath your T-shirt leaving hot trails all over your body with every caress; he travels further and further until his hands touch the underside of your breasts and he suddenly tenses; slowly, Katsuki’s mind wakes up as his finger touches the soft skin for only a second before he retreats and looks up at you.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Also, you are allergic to me, did you know that?” He mumbles, back to his half-dead state after hiding his face in your hair again. Wow, sleepy boyfriend Katsuki is the most compliant creature you’ve ever seen, what the fuck. You didn’t think Katsuki is a morning snuggler but fuck, he really is and it’s absolutely adorable.

“What do you mean?” You giggle while your fingers mindlessly play with his sleep mussed hair.

“Your heart started to act up when I kissed you. Mine does that too and it feels really shitty when it does.” He murmurs and leaves another kiss in the crook of your neck; your heart acts up again, beating rapidly in your chest, fire spreading in your veins like poison. You can’t help the awkward giggle rumbling through your chest.

“That’s not an allergy, you dumb fuck.” Ahh, this man is hilarious. “It’s a common reaction. It means you like what the other person is doing… it’s adrenaline. Ahh, I don’t know how to describe it, fuck. It means I have the hots for you. And I want you. Or something. I fucking don’t know, but it’s definitely not allergies, it’s more like the opposite. It means I can’t get enough of you.” Your face flushes, fully ashamed. You basically just told him you are horny. Right in his face. Just like that. Great. This is great. You should have used other words, talk about love and butterflies but no, you had to talk about your inner desire to fornicate with him in his parents house, while his mom is probably busy making breakfast in the kitchen.

“Hm…” Katsuki hums while he helps himself up on his elbow to look down at you. His other hand caresses your hair, his fingers sliding down your sensitive neck and your breath hitches from the father-light movement. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone before though. It wasn’t hard to breathe and there was no squeezy feeling in my chest before… Why?” he murmurs as his hand finds it’s final destination; your chest. He listens to your frantic heartbeat with a soft gaze, his eyes wondering up and down your face and body.

“Can I ask you a question, Katsuki?” You mumble, your hands still in his hair. You fingers slowly trail down to his ear and his neck; you put your hands on his chest and listen to his quickening heartbeat as your body burst into invisible flames.

“I asked first.” He mumbles back, but there is no edge to his words; his eyes are cloudy and he’s not focusing anymore.

“It’s connected to my answer.” You retort, your fingers slowly moving down to his collarbone, tracing the dip of the skin with the tip of your fingers. Katsuki visibly shakes at that and it goes straight down to your… yeah. That. Katsuki doesn’t say anything just moves up to tower over you; the silence is gold so you continue without an actual answer. “Did you care about the person who touched you this way?” You whisper; your fingers move to his shoulders, caressing his skin on his arms back and forth.

“No.” The answer is simple.

“Did you enjoy being touched by them?” You move back to his collarbone then to the middle of his chest; your finger slowly trails down between his pecs as your other hand finds his hips and grabs the skin heavily. Katsuki’s hips twitch forward; it would go unnoticed if you wouldn’t be staring at him like a hawk, analyzing every single movement to prove your point.

Fuck, it’s really hot in here.

“Fuck, no.” Katsuki heaves and your hand moves down his belly and stops at the trail of hair disappearing in his underwear. He takes a deep breath and looks at you hungrily, his whole body shaking from the tension. Your finger finds the hem of his underwear, tugging on the fabric once then let it go with a tiny snap. Katsuki forgets how to breathe.

“Do you like it when I touch you, Katsuki?” Your finger slide over the hem of his underwear until you reach his side; your hand slides up on his sides, palms shamelessly grabbing on the muscled skin, mapping out every single crevice and scar on the way.

“Yes.” The answer comes easily between two heavy pants.

“Do you care about me?” You smile at him, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, I fucking do.” Katsuki whispers, his mind blown by the sudden revelation. “Fuck.”

Things happen really quickly, the same way they always do then Katsuki feels too full of new, strange emotions; he surges forward and kisses you fiercely, the motion heavy and hot; he tugs and bites right away, a weak, shaky moan leaving your lips from the sudden sensation. The sound only urges him on; he moves to your neck and leaves hot kisses all over it, his tongue moves up to your ears, leaving a trail of quickly cooling saliva in it’s wake then nibbles on your ear lobe before he changes his mind and comes back to your mouth, absently trying to force you to make that sweet sound again and again. Your hands wonder up his pecs absently, the feeling of his nipple under your palms leaves you a breathless, stuttering mess; he makes a tiny gasp at the feeling, trying his best to not make too much noise but failing miserably. Katsuki finds your mouth again, his kisses frantic and unpredictable; he licks into your mouth and joins your tongue in a sensual dance while his hips jerk forward for any kind of friction. A broken whine leaves your lips when you feel Katsuki’s hardness through his underwear as he dips down and moves his hips into you; while the tension is heavy in the air the friction is feather light and tentative, but it leaves nothing but fire in his wake; you try to chase the feeling, pulling yourself up to find him halfway and a high pitched moan leaves Katsuki’s mouth, way too loud in the silence of the early morning; the sound goes right between your legs, your body on fire as Katsuki makes the same motion over and over again while he devours your lips and neck hungrily.

“Let me touch you.” You whisper, your hands already on the hem of his underwear but Katsuki jerks away.

“Wait, I… I can’t.” For your surprise, Katsuki looks like a hurt puppy, confused and shaking as he looks down at himself.

Your breath hitches and you feel like you’ve done something terrible, but it doesn’t make sense, he was clearly into it and you just wanted to urge him on, let him know you want it too, but you’ve clearly missed something in the heat of the moment, maybe he didn’t want this at all…

Fuck, you are spiraling.

Fuck, it’s so hard to breathe.

~•💥•~

“Wait, I… I can’t.”

Katsuki is a mess. An aroused and confused mess. He has no idea what had happened in the last few minutes if he’s completely honest; one moment he was flustered by Y/N’s light touches, then… then he almost creamed his pants after a few minutes of friction. He might have an explosive quirk but he’s never felt so much heat in his body before; it felt like every single part of his body was on fire, flames licking up his chest and his belly as he panted on top of Y/N, his mind foggy from lust.

Bakugou Katsuki, 25 years old, has never felt flames growing in his belly, he’s never felt so weak and vulnerable as he does right now, ready to go down on his knees and beg Y/N to let him finish this, because he knows the feeling would be amazing and he’s so close, and it was so good, nothing like anything he has felt before, not even alone in the shower and definitely nothing like the times he messed around with random women to ease the tension.

Katsuki is utterly confused by his body right now, because for the first time in his life, it actually worked properly.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I go too far? I’m so sorry Katsuki… please, say something, anything, yell at me, call me names, I don’t fucking care just say something!” Y/N looks at him with teary eyes and something breaks in him; he didn’t mean to make her cry, he really fucking didn’t.

“Fuck, it’s not your fault, give me a second. Please.” Katsuki takes a few deep breaths and thinks.

There are a few revelations here he need to get his head around.

First of all, he’d just realized he’s demisexual… or something. He has no idea about sexualities and he never bothered to Google them. He did hear about this from Sero though; it makes so much fucking sense now it hurts his brain. He will need to apologize to Sero for calling it “bullshit”; who is he kidding, he will never actually do that.

He never liked porn or anything sexual. No woman nor man could satisfy him in any way, he could never make it until the end before giving up and leaving the situation, because it’s really hard to do stuff when his member isn’t interested. His one night stands usually ended up with him satisfying the other person in other ways and leaving like this was what he wanted to do in the first place. No one asked questions and no one ever cared as long as they were left satisfied and happy. He haven’t had too many of them, to be honest; 3 or 4 maximum, and they were all terrible so Katsuki just accepted that he is not into sex at all. Then motherfucking Menace came into his life and all the shit he was sure of crumbled in front of him, leaving nothing but questionmarks all over the place as his body betrayed him and reacted to Y/N’s fleeting touches. He caught himself staring at her more than once, daydreaming about touching her and it only left him more and more confused about himself; why does he care now? Why is this different?

And here comes the second revelation of the day; Katsuki only just realized how deep his feelings really are. The fire in his body from Y/N’s caress is one thing, but the way he turns into a mush when Y/N looks at him with those beautiful eyes, looking deep into his soul, and how Katsuki looks up from his paperwork every time she makes the tiniest of noises, worried she might pass out again like that one time ages ago, how Katsuki wants to be around her 24/7 to keep her safe and how much he can’t get enough of her fiery touches and sweet giggles, fuck, he even loves when Y/N yells at him for being an absolute asshole to a fucking extra. When she kicks his ass out of spite he wants to say thank you.

Fuck’s sake, he really is head over heels for this fucking woman. It’s not just “love” and “adoration”. It’s an actual fucking obsession at this point.

… but.

Being interested in this way is great but that doesn’t mean he’s not overwhelmed and terrified to do something wrong.

What if he goes all the way and fails? What if he’s not good enough; fuck, the only time he had actual sex was when one of the ladies got impatient and tried to “help herself” which ended with him going limp in 2 fucking minutes because he didn’t like it at all. It was really awkward.

Deep inside, he knows this wouldn’t be the case with Y/N. The throb in his pants is enough of an evidence, but fuck, he’s terrified.

“I’m not a virgin, but… I’ve never… fuck’s sake.” Katsuki swears and puts his head on Y/N’s shoulders to take a deep breath filled with her cotton candy scent to calm down. “I need more time. I’m new to this and it’s too much. Too good. So fucking good, Y/N.” He looks up finally, right into her teary eyes. She needs to know he’s saying the truth and this is the only thing he could think of.

Y/N smiles, but it’s broken, sad around the edges; Katsuki fucked up.

“I understand and I’m sorry.” She murmurs, while her fingers play with Katsuki’s ruffled bangs.

“The fuck are you sorry for? I initiated all of this. Not you.” He retorts with anger in his tone. He takes a few deep breaths and continues. He can’t fuck this up more, can he? “The only thing you can be sorry for is to wanting to go further in my parents house, because that’s weird and nasty.” Katsuki teases, moving back into Y/N’s personal space with a cheeky grin. Finally, Y/N chuckles and Katsuki leaves tiny kisses on her neck; he would do anything to make Y/N smile at this moment. This is another new feeling Katsuki needs to get used to; this urge to please his other half, like being himself is not enough anymore, he needs to be better, kinder, stronger for his partner, for Y/N, being “okay” is not enough anymore, he needs to be the best… ahh fuck this whole love thing, this is fucking ridiculous. A warm puff of air leaves Katsuki’s mouth and Y/N shivers underneath him; he might be in the middle of a hate-speech in his head but the can’t lie, he absolutely loves the way Y/N reacts to his touches. It’s so fucking addicting. Y/N pushes him away gently, forcing the blonde to look into her eyes; the smile falters and changes into a serious gaze, one full off worry and love.

“Katsuki… I want to say something. Will you listen to me?”

Well, fuck. He really doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t have a choice. He’s so fucking ready to have a meltdown in the bathroom.

“Spill.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, trying his best to act like everything is okay and this conversation is absolutely unnecessary, even though he knows it’s not.

“I know you hate to feel weak and vulnerable and you probably can’t wait to run away and never come close again, but I want you to know that this… this was okay. It’s okay to say no. It’s not a fucking weakness.” Ahh, here it goes. The fucking pity he hates so much. “And if you say no next week or next month or even after that, it will be okay. If you don’t want to go further at all, that’s also okay. I don’t care, Katsuki. The only thing I care about is you being here with me, supporting me and liking me. I’m more than happy to live without sex for the rest of my life if it means you’ll stay by my side. So… just talk to me, okay?” Katsuki is not sure if he wants to run away, cry on Y/N’s shoulder or just marry her in the nearest register office. What the fuck did Katsuki do to deserve such an understanding, beautiful fucking girlfriend who can keep up with him even in the worst days? How?!

“Stop saying cheesy shit, I hate it.” Katsuki mumbles, his cheeks red as a tomato. “It’s stupid anyway. Thanks, though.”

Well, that sentence definitely did not convey a single thing he wanted to, but Katsuki isn’t good with words. Or deeds. Or with anything emotional. He didn’t even know he had them until last month.

“I know you hate this, but it’s a part of being in a relationship. I want you to tell me about this later, when you feel comfortable. I want to know everything about you. Even if it’s something stupid.” Y/N smiles and fuck, Katsuki really wants to make this Menace the happiest fucking woman on Earth.

“I want to make you happy.” Katsuki grumbles, his hands slowly crawling up on Y/N’s thighs until he gets to the edge of her panties. He can feel his blood pumping aggressively inside him, leaving trails of burning fire in their wake. Y/N scrunches her face for a few seconds and takes a deep breath; she slowly removes his hands from her body with a disappointed frown on her face.

Well, Mr. Katsuki definitely sucks at this.

“Kats, did you even listen to me?”

“I did…” he mumbles with a guilty expression in his eyes.

“I want to wait until you are ready, and I want to do this together. Now move your fucking ass and let me calm down.” She sighs, and Katsuki hates it.

Katsuki might be a changed man but he still hates a lot of things. Clearly.

“I suck at this shit.” Katsuki grumbles after he moves away from his girlfriend.

“You really do but it’s kind of sexy to be honest.” Y/N gives him a seductive look which makes Katsuki’s little friend twitch and that’s when Katsuki decides he’d had enough of the Menace’s shenanigans for one day and leaves the room. He can only hope his mother is not doing laundry right now, because if he has to face her while looking like this, he’ll catapult himself out of the window and move to Mars.

Katsuki needs a cold shower. Or two. Or three.

Fuck, being in a relationship is a real fucking challenge; thank god he’s a hot headed, challenge-loving bastard who absolutely can’t wait to see what kind of obstacles he’ll need to overcome in the future, plus fucking ultra and all that shit.

He’ll fucking win at this relationship-thing, because he always fucking wins.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Be like Katsuki. If you are not comfortable with something, say it. If the other person loves you they’ll understand. If not, they are not the one. There is also no such thing as being to old to be a virgin. Do stuff when you are ready.

Sorry for the random advice but I would have killed to have someone telling me that when I was young, so I had to do it.

TL: @sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x self insert #bakugo x you #shenanigansbypurplepotato #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #soft katsuki