#it’s tiring making multiple side ocs

[simphic]

Um I would love to include some of y’all’s ocs in ads or billboards in my renders 🤔.. my messages are always open 🙏🏾

#like literally… #it’s tiring making multiple side ocs #even tho i don’t mind #but still throwing that idea out there

[darkbluekies]

Yandere Silas x male reader bodyguard. Relationship:romantic

You and him grew up together in the mafia, Silas fell in love with you but you only saw him as a friend and he ends up falling in love with a girl and this makes you leave the mafia to go abroad with her to live a normal life.

Silas has contacts all over the world and discovers that you are in a country abroad, he kills the girl and kidnaps you

Be mine (you have no fucking choice)

Yandere!mafia oc x male!bodyguard!reader

Summary: after being friends with Silas for years, you decide that it is time to pack it up and leave, much to Silas’s dismay.

Warnings: criminal stuff, throwing up, getting drunk by force, ropes, cage, mentions of sleeping around, violence, alcohol

Word count: 4.3k

You put your gun into your belt and get out of the warehouse. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Silas asks and grabs your arm. 

“I’m going home”, you say. “This mission doesn’t interest me.”

You try to walk, but Silas hurries in front of you, blocking your way. He almost reminds you of the little, stubborn boy he once was when he does that. 

“Wait”, he says. “You never drive well after a mission. You have too much adrenaline. You and I can leave together. I can drive you to my house.”

“No, Silas, I’m going home.”

Silas doesn’t react to you calling him by his first name. But he never has. You are special. Only one other person in his entire organization can call him by his first name without getting a bullet through their eyes — that person being his second in command. You and his second in command have known Silas longer than anyone else. You’d dare call his second in command your friend too, although on a more professional level. 

You’ve known Silas longer than his second in command has, and you’ve known his little brother, Ares … and you’ve known about his jealousy for a very long time. It started when you one day went home with his brother to play video games after shool. Next day when you entered school, his brother had a black eye and Silas had not left your side for the entire day. 

It only got worse from there, but you never did anything. You tried to talk to him, but it seemed like the years made him even more jealous. He dated girls time and time again, but created a big fuss when you showed the slightest interest in anyone — be that boy or girl. You became the third wheel in SIlas’ multiple relationships.

He did admit to his love for you, just a few years ago, but you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. It would make everything harder. You were basically working for him as his bodyguard and didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. Losing him as a friend could mean both mental distress … and physical harm. 

“Does this have anything to do with the girl I’m dating?” Silas asks. 

You look baffled. “No? Why would you think that?”

“Because she’s at the house?”

“No, I just want to go home”, you sigh heavily. “Why do I have to explain my every step to you? You’re not my father, come on.”

“Because I’m worried about you.”

“What a great look for you, mister mafia leader. Don't let anyone else see that.” You nod at him to move. “Move out of the way now, I’m tired and I’m hungry. I want to go home and order a fucking pizza.”

“So this has nothing to do with my girlfriend?”

“What's the matter with you? Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I'm not interested in you, you know that.”

You push past him.

A month passes. You have been seriously thinking about leaving the mafia for a long time now, but ever since Silas got himself yet another girlfriend it became clear that you have to leave, if you ever want to get yourself one of your own. As long as you stay with him, he will never let you date anyone — apart from him, of course. 

You’ve decided to move abroad. While packing your bags, you feel tears run down your cheeks. You have known Silas for as long as you can remember. You love to be with him, he is your best friend. Betraying him would mean betraying yourself, and his entire organization. People who betray him gets killed personally by Silas. Neither you or Silas would want that.

However, leaving without anyone noticing would be hard. Silas would know that something was wrong right away and he would use his contacts to find you again. You’d need help with creating false documents … and you knew just the man to help with that. 

You hold the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” a familiar voice asks. 

“Hi, Ares”, you say. 

“How the fuck did you get my number?”

“I did some digging.”

“Holy fuck, Y/N, you need help.”

You chuckle and hear how Ares chuckles in return. 

“What did you want?” he asks. 

“I need some help.” You look around, feeling like you’re being watched, which wouldn't be very far off. “Can we meet up?”

“Sure. Now?”

“If you can.”

“Yeah, I’m not busy.”

You decide to meet up at a café an hour away from your house, hoping that Silas’s associates wouldn’t recognize you here. You couldn’t believe that you would meet Ares again, you haven't seen him since you were teenagers. He looks the same, just a bit more grown up. 

“My brother finally removed the leash around your neck?” Ares chuckles and hugs you. 

“No, not really”, you sigh. “This is why I need your help. I know that you scam tight about everyone. And I need you to help me create false documents, passport … yeah, you name it.”

Ares smirks.

“Little Y/N is going on vacation, I see”, he says. “Where are you going?”

“I don't know.”

“Are you trying to get away from my brother?”

You nod. Ares seems to think for a moment. 

“Go to Spain”, he says. “Silas is banned from there, he won't be able to get you.”

“Ah, I feel so bad about it, though”, you sigh and run your hands through your hair. “He's my best friend. And boss, technically. If I leave, I betray both my best friend and his organization … and then he has the right to kill me.”

“Wait, you're planning to leave the mafia? For real?”

“I don't want to, but I can't live like this. I want to have my own life. I'm a grown man now, the window for opportunities is closing every year.”

“I'll go with you. I'll protect you.”

“You don't have to, Ares. Look at me, I'm capable of taking care of myself.”

You were Silas’s bodyguard, after all. No weak person gets that position. 

“Yes, I know”, Ares says. “But I can help. And you don't have to be lonely.”

“You are an ass too”, you remind him.

“Better than Silas, though.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

Ares comes with you to Spain. He has given you false documents with new names and nationalities. You sit together at the airport with your phone in your hand. Your stomach is turning.

“I really should tell him”, you sigh nervously. “I don't want to just leave. I have known him for years. I might betray him work wise, but I can't betray him friend wise. I'm going to call him.”

“I don't think you should”, Ares says. “He has been awful to you, why does he deserve your goodbye?”

You groan and hide your head between your knees. Ares brushes his hand through your hair.

“Come on, sweetie, let it go”, Ares encourages you. “Your new life starts soon. Beach, sun and alcohol, all day long.”

You want to tell him that you don't drink, but decide to leave it be. 

“I have to go to the bathroom”, you excuse yourself and stand up to walk away.

But you don't go to the bathroom stalls. You stand by the large windows at the gate and call Silas.

“Hi, Y/N”, he says.”I haven't heard from you in a little while. I was about to go over to your house and drag you over to mine, because I miss you.”

“I have to talk to you about that”, you say,  hesitantly. “I am not at home, and I probably won't be back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm really sorry that I have gone behind your back, but I am actually leaving … going abroad. And it might be permanent.”

“Have you hit your head?”

“I'm really sorry for betraying you, Silas, you’re my best friend … but frankly, you're always stopping me from getting my own family, while you brag about the women you fuck. I need to get away, at least for a while and get to try to find love. It might not be permanent, but I don't know.”

“Where are you going? You know that you can't leave the country without me knowing. The second any of your credit cards, passport or anything along that way is being used, I'm notified.”

“Well I'm not fucking stupid. I have fixed that.”

Silas scoffs out a mocking laugh.“You don't know how to do that.”

“I had help.”

“From who?” He doesn't sound that cocky anymore.

“Ares.”

Silence. 

“Oh, you can't be fucking serious”, Silas says. 

You can't detect what emotion he's feeling. Perhaps everything all at the same time. Maybe it was a wrong decision to call him before your flight, but the guilt would have eaten you up the entire way there.

“I am”, you answer, trying your best not to let your voice shake. 

“You know what kind of asshole he is, Y/N”, Silas tells you. 

“I have done stuff too, I’m no angel either.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just called to let you know that I am leaving. I didn’t want you to hear that from anyone else, I wanted you to hear it from me personally. This is a goodbye, Silas — at least for now. Thank you.”

“Y/N-”

You hang up and turn off your phone before returning to Ares who’s sipping on a beer by the gate, where you left him.

When you’re allowed to board the plane, you’re already nauseous. What if it wouldn’t work? What if you changed your mind? You already felt bad. Ares puts his hand on your shoulder while you walk through the middle of the plane, trying to find your seat. Ares takes the aisle seat. 

“Thank you for giving me the window seat”, you chuckle. “I feel like a kid all over again.”

“Well, I can’t let random folks touch you, can I?” Ares responds. “I’m a gentleman after all.”

Ares sits with his phone up the entire flight, working. You know all about his dirty business, how he scams people left to right with his false businesses. 

You fall asleep for a while. Your body has been in a tense position the entire day and finally, you were out of reach. He couldn’t create a storm or shoot down a passenger plane, he wasn’t a God or a military flighter. He is nothing more than a man with a bit too much power for his own liking. And hybris. A whole lot of hybris. Ares turns off his phone to look at you. He smiles slightly. For years, he has tried to take you from Silas. You didn’t want him, but Silas was too selfish to let you be put on the market. He wanted you available at all times, for when the timing was right. Ares stopped trying to reach out to you after a while, knowing that it was pointless, thought that if you wanted to get back in touch with him, you would reach out — and you did. Ares lets his eyes wander over you. He has tried to match your physique, but had no chance against the hours you’ve had to spend at the gym to be able to be Silas’s bodyguard. But under all those muscles, you are nothing but a softie, and that’s why Ares wants you … and Silas too, unfortunately. He always has to compete with his brother over toys they both want.

Silas scoffs angrily and runs his hand through his black hair, and yet he can’t stop himself from laughing. It’s absurd! All of it!

“Why are you laughing, boss?” his second in command asks shortly. “This is nothing to be happy about.”

“I fucking know that?” Silas snaps back. “Do you think I enjoy knowing that my Y/N is on a plane with my psycopathic brother going to fuck knows where?”

“There are not a lot of places he could go to, though. Think about it.”

“I can’t fucking think! Y/N is leaving me!”

“Silas, sit down before you faint, ‘kay?”

Silas, oddly enough, listens and sits down on the couch in his study with his hands gripping the fabric beside him. His second in command stands in front of him with his hands on his hips. 

“Listen”, he says. “Ares would fuck with you, right?”

“Right”, Silas responds. 

“Which countries are you banned from?”

“Spain, England, Germany, the Netherlands and Ireland.”

“So, one of those countries.”

“But which?!”

“His favorite. Which one is the warmest?”

“Spain?”

“Bingo.”

Silas’s eyes widens and he breaks out into a shocked smile. Why didn’t he think about this? Ares isn’t smart.

“...how the fuck do I do this?” he realizes. “I can’t just take a plane into Spain without being arrested the second I step off the plane. We will need another way. We could get a boat and sneak in.”

“I’ll see what I can do, boss.”

“Do it quickly, I know my brother and he will take what I want. If he does, I will never forgive myself.”

The reason why Silas has never let you date anyone is because he wants what can only be had one way, your innocence. 

He sighs and walks out of the room where he finds the woman he’s dating standing with her hands together, looking worried. A certain rage takes over him. The sight of her had made you want to leave. He knows very well that it isn’t her fault, but he can’t help but think that it is. Her existence has put you in a position of discomfort, and for that, she has to pay. Silas doesn’t want to look at her, it only makes him nauseous. 

He pulls up his gun from his belt, and without a second thought, he fires off and watches the innocent girl’s limp body hit the floor. But for now, he can’t bring himself to feel bad. 

He has to find you. Ares is only nice as long as you're on his side, if you want to disagree with him, he's going to strip you off everything. You just don't know how horrific Ares could be.

Your first few days in Spain couldn’t be more than idyllic — if it weren’t for the fact that you look over your shoulder wherever you go. You scan the areas for familiar faces of Silas’s gang. 

“Relax, will you?” Ares says and hooks his arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoy the scenery instead.”

“I think I’m going insane”, you mutter. 

“A shot will help with that.”

“I don’t drink, you know that.”

Ares just smiles. You’re on your way back to the house from a restaurant Ares had treated you to. It was obviously a date, but you didn’t know how to tell him that you wanted to take things slow. Ares has never been a patient man … and you aren’t even sure if Ares is the person you want to date currently. Frankly, thanks to Silas, you don’t know what you want to do yet. You’ve only gotten your freedom to do whatever you want a few days ago, and it’s more overwhelming than you expected. 

“Do you want to come to my room?” Ares asks when you get to the front door. “We don’t even have to do anything, we can just watch TV.”

“I start to believe that the only reason you wanted to come with me on this trip was to get me in bed”, you scoff and put the keys in the lock. 

“Not only-”

“Ares, go to the bar and pick up someone there instead.”

“I can’t leave you alone, I told you that I was going on the trip to protect you.”

“And i told you that I didn’t need protection. If you’re horny, go.”

Ares sighs and gives up. “Fine, call me if you need me.”

“I’ll be fine, I’m tired.”

Ares nods and gives your back a tap before walking back the way you came from. You unlock the door, going into the house. In the corner of your eye, you can tell that something is moving. Instantly, you go into attack mode, but freezing when you notice who it is that is standing up from the armchair.

“I feel like a dad catching their underage kid sneaking in after a night out”, the second in command says. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you question. 

The second in command jerks his head. “Fucking guess.”

“Did Silas really send you because he can’t enter the country?” you laugh. “That’s so tragic.”

“Laugh all you want, you’re not the one that have been on a small fucking fishing boat for twelve hours straight!” He collects himself and sighs. “I will give you one chance to come with me voluntarily before I beat your head in.”

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Try me.”

Silas must have equipped his second in command with things he knew that you wouldn’t be able to combat, because in one way or another, you lose consciousness. 

You wake up in a dark, cold room. At once, you try to move your hands to your eyes to rub them clean from drowsiness, but quickly notice how your hands are tied to something behind you. That’s when you realize that you’re stuck in a cage the size of a garden shed, in — what looks like — a cargo hold. Your hands are tied to one of the cage’s bars behind you. Your head is pounding from the hit his second in command had given you. 

“Look at that, he’s finally waking up”, a familiar voice says. 

“So we don’t need the water?” his second in command asks. 

“Let’s keep it.”

Silas walks into the cage, crouching down in front of you. He takes a hold of your chin, directing your head whichever way he wants. 

“You gave him a bump the size of mount everest”, Silas mutters over his shoulder. 

“He’s a trained fighter”, his second in command replies. “I had to do what I had to do, you know?”

“I guess.”

Silas lets go of your pounding head. You groan softly, feeling out of your own body, while still being trapped inside the cage. You start to cough and Silas grabs the bucket of icy water, holding it to your mouth. At first, you gulp it down … and then realize that it was sea water. You throw it up, right back into the bucket. Silas gives the bucket to his second in command, telling him to throw it out.

“That was fucking disgusting”, you grimace and gag. 

“You kind of deserve it.” He fixes your hair that has started to stick onto your forehead. “Why did you do that to me, Y/N?”

“You didn’t let me have my own life. I was living yours, as a side character.”

“You betrayed me.”

You meet his brown — almost black — eyes and feel your heart sink. You have never seen such sadness in his eyes before. 

“I know”, you say and turn down your gaze. “I felt really bad about it. I know the rules, and I won’t make a fuzz about it, but can I beg of you that it won’t be you who kills me? I don’t want that to be our last memory together.”

Silas seems to be taken aback. 

“I’m not going to kill you”, he says. “In fact, no one is.”

“But I betrayed you-”

“I know, but I can’t kill you.”

“You can’t bend the rules, or else you’ll get a mutiny.”

“Who said that I was letting you off the hook?”

You watch how Silas walks out of the cage, picks something up from the floor, and returns with a bottle in his hands. 

“I know that you are strong”, he says, popping the bottle open, “and violent. So, I’m going to keep you calm for the rest of the journey to Portugal. Open your mouth.”

“What is that?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing the bottle wearily. 

“Vodka.”

You shake your head quickly. “That’s so foul-”

“I did not ask for your opinion.”

He puts the opening of the bottle to your lips and you try to turn your head, but Silas forces you to drink. With one hand, he holds the bottle, and with the other he holds your chin to make sure that you can’t turn away. You have no other choice but to swallow the burning liquid. He doesn’t let you stop until half the bottle are gone. You cough and gag, but can’t throw up. 

“You absolute fu—fucking—”, you cough. 

“Calm down, baby boy, it’s just some vodka”, Silas says nonchalantly and takes a sip. “Good for your heart.”

He puts his hand on your heavily raising chest, trying to calm your breathing and feel your racing heart. The alcohol turns your body heat up and you want nothing more than for that bucket of water to come back. 

“My right hand man will be here to make sure that you’re not sober for a single second”, Silas says and stands up. 

“You can’t fucking leave me like this!” you burst out. 

“Then stop me.”

You fight against the ropes and Silas smirks triumphantly before leaving the cargo hold.

The second in command came in every half an hour to give you new sips. You tried to refuse, but with your hands locked behind your back and head spinning with alcohol, there wasn't much you could to to stop him.

You haven't drank anything since you were a young teenager and the rocking motions of the sea wasn't helping you. You refused to throw up again, refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you in such a state next time they entered.

You hated alcohol even worse now. Fuck Silas. 

After what felt like hours — in your drunken state it could very well have been days, or minutes — you couldn't take it anymore.

“Silas!” you shout and your tone goes to a whining, slurred melody. “Silas!”

You've never felt so helpless.

Silas enters with his second in command tightly behind him. He enters the cage and crouches down in front of your pathetic form.

“What?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

“Please stop”, you beg and sob, but you're not sure if the tears come from the heart or the alcohol. “Please …I will do what you want …”

Silas grabs the back of your sweaty neck and directs your wet face into his shoulder, letting you cry. You can feel that your hands are freed from the ropes.

Silas picks you up, carrying you up to the decks above water. His second in command holds your head so that you won't smash it against one of the sharp corners. 

Silas tucks you into a bed and leaves you to rest. You can see the shining sun outside the round porthole window as you fall asleep. 

He walks out onto the deck of the fishing boat and smirks.

“What?” his second in command asks.

“I'm not single anymore”, Silas chuckles.

“You won again, congratulations. Will you put Y/N into the basement?”

“He can handle that. But most important thing is that he's coming home where he belongs, and there won't be any more childish outbursts.”

“What happened with your brother, by the way?”

“Who cares? I don't want to meet him anyway, so the less I need to deal with him, the better.”

When the fishing boat reaches Portugal, you are dragged to a car and to the airport. You don't say much. Silas disregard for your hate of alcohol and childish behavior has put you off. If it weren't for the fact that you are hus prisoner now, you wouldn't be his friend anymore.

Silas’s private jet stands ready on an empty field. He holds your arm as he pushes you up the stairs. You rip your arm from his hold.

“I can walk by myself, let me go”, you mutter.

Silas sighs. You sit down in a seat opposite Silas and cross your arms.

“You are glaring at me”, Silas says without glancing up from his phone.

“I'm just trying to determine if you have brain cells”, you spit.

“Aren't you a fun lad?”  

“Where is my phone, by the way?”

“Like sharp objects and weapons should be: far away from you.”

“Oh, I see. You're going to treat me like a child.”

“Y/N, I'm not an idiot. I trained you, I know how dangerous you are with weapons. You are even more violent than I am at times.”

“Obviously with good reasons.”

Silas glances up from his phone. You twitch your eyebrows testingly. You might not have your weapons, but your tongue is still sharp. 

Being in a relationship with Silas might be more interesting than you thought, and Silas sure as hell will realize that you're not going down without a fight.

“Your girlfriend, then?” you question. “What does she think?”

“Frankly, she can't think a lot at the moment”, Silas responds, turns off his phone and luts it on the table between you. 

You get the hint immediately. 

“Killing her was unnecessary”, you say.

“Running away from me was unnecessary too”, Silas adds.

“This is going to be a stable relationship.”

“It will be the second you stop with the childish attitude.”

While keeping eye contact, you push his phone off the table. Silas eye twitches as he bends down to get it.

“You're going into the basement when we get home”, he says.

“Can I hit back? Or are you going to have full control and tie me up again? Is that the only way you can win over me? With me being completely helpless?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up before I let you ride on the airplane wing.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You stare at each other, and you refuse to look away first. You're going to make him regret imprisoning you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere oc x reader #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere criminal #male reader

[kissforyouu]

finding your boyfriend sleeping in your hyperfeminine pink room ! <3

ෆ˙ ᵕ ˙ෆ

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!reader

genre : fluff

warning : nothin just pure fluff 🥰🥰 , oc babies him , reader calls him princess , he calls her nicknames (baby/princess) , he sleeps on her tits

unedited.

exhausted, tired, that's what you were.

you just finished tutoring 2 little kids. one of them was an absolute angel sent from heaven to make your shift easier, but the other, oh god, that little she-devil. don't get me wrong, you still liked the other kid, but she can really become a handful at times. doesn't matter, at the end of the day you get paid and at least one of them learns something. right?

right now, all you could think of was about your boyfriend who should be at your home right now. your parents aren't home tonight, so you figured why not invite your boyfriend in and have the whole house for you and him.

cute, right?

speaking of cute, you clip your hair back up into a messy bun using your newly bought my melody hair clip. jungkook, your boyfriend, always liked the way your overgrown bangs fell down to frame your face. and he also made sure to buy you all of the cute little hair clips he saw, because he knew you liked cute stuff. hair clips, plushies, figurines, clothes, make up — you name it.

jungkook always called it childish, though. you found it funny. and cute. cause he always got you anything you liked, despite his thoughts on it. hehe.

you make your way through your living room silently, eyes scanning around trying to spot jungkook.

what would he be doing right now? it's 3.03pm, the clock read.

"gguk?" you murmur while nibbling on your lower lip — a habit of yours.

shrugging your shoulders, you hum a small melody to yourself while making your way to your room.

the first thing you notice the moment you open the door to your room was the fact that the A/C was on. that could mean only one thing.

your eyes shift to your bed to find your boyfriend practically suffocated and wrapped up with all your blankets around him.

your heart just—melted.

the sight of your big, buff, muscular boyfriend on your bed, wrapped up with your pink blanket with flowers all over them, curled up in a ball hugging your cinnamonroll pillow. (look at the header.) made your heart squeeze multiple times.

the sheets were covering him from his chin to downwards. so all that was visible was his head and the outline of his arms and legs—oh, aWWW! his toes were also peaking out due to the blanket being not big enough to cover his entire body.

if you listened carefully, you could hear his soft light snores escaping. you scrunch your nose up, letting out a small giggle.

he is so cute!

you quickly pull your phone out to take a few pictures of your boyfriend. you're so gonna tease him about this later.

you walk to your bed, sliding your slippers off slowly get on the bed. you measure each of your movements, not wanting to wake up the sleeping beauty on your bed.

coming to think of it, you were quite sleepy yourself.

laying next to your boyfriend, you grab one of your kuromi blankets and throw it over yourself. grabbing one of your plushys that were placed around the bed, you hug it close before throwing your arm over your boyfriend's figure.

snuggling your face into the junction of his neck and shoulder, you gently kiss it, then close your eyes.

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

you squeeze your eyes, slowly opening them after. you had woken up after your lil nap. squinting your eyes, you look around— oh yeah! hehe. your boyfriend! he was still sleeping like a baby, making you snort a little.

suddenly, jungkook shifts positions and turns around to your side. he was still sleeping, but his eyes were slowly fluttering, adjusting to the light after a long nap.

jungkook opens his eyes, nose scrunching as he licked his dry lips.

"baby?" his voice sounded so crispy.

"slept well?" you tease.

"oh." jungkook groans, rubbing his eyes. he takes off my flower printed blanket off of him as he sits up on the bed. he doesn't let go of my cinnamonroll pillow though, hugging it closer to his stomach.

"stop it." jungkook rolls rolls his eyes.

"no, you were cute!" you giggle.

"yeah, yeah, whatever" he murmurs, looking away from you.

"mhmmmm..." you hum with a sarcastic tone.

"have you, uh, always had that poster? is it a new one?" jungkook asks. he scratches the back of his neck. clearly he's trying to change the topic. cute.

"mmm, no, i've always had it."

"ah, really? never noticed."

the air was awkward for a few seconds, then you break the silence with a giggle. stop he's so cute.

you sit up on the bed and scoot closer to jungkook, throwing your thigh over his to balance your body over him. he is still looking away, the little annoyed expression on his face making your heart squeeze over and over (in a good way!).

kissing his cheek once, twice, thrice ;

"awww, ggukie. i love you so much!" you coo.

jungkook groans, his hand flying to your face to push it back, but you see the small smile creeping up his face.

you laugh, pointing at his face.

"see!"

"shut uuuupp! i had no choice but to sleep in your little princess bed, okay?" you watch him lazily rub his face.

"it's okay. you're my princess after all." you smile.

jungkook lifts his eyebrow at you, the corner of his lip curling upto a smirk.

"yeah? what are you, then?"

"me? uhhh, could be your princess. we can be princesses together, kook."

you probably sound so stupid right now. doesn't matter, it's jungkook whom you're talking with.

jungkook leans forward to grab your wrists to pull you towards his chest. his palms sneak under your skirt to settle on your ass cheeks, pushing your whole body up. strong.

"gimme a kiss, princess."

happily, you cup his cheeks press a big fat kiss on his lips. you pull away just to kiss him again, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. jungkook's palms rub your flesh, squeezing it.

he leans to give another small peck to your lips once you pull away.

"bubblegum lipbalm?"

"mmhm! bought it, uhhh, last week? i think."

jungkook hums, nodding his head.

"lay on the bed, 'm sleepy" he signals.

you squint your eyes, confused.

"but you just woke up? why're you sleepy again?"

"just am— ah, top off."

ohhhh.

you proceed to take off your top but leave your bra, then laying on the bed. jungkook smiles wide, settling himself in between your legs and his head on your right breast.

you giggle, loving this moment. you pull up the cute flower blanket of yours over the both of you to cover you both up. jungkook clutches onto your cinnamonroll pillow again, hugging it with his arm as he drifted to sleep.

"best sleep i'm ever gonna have..." he mumbles.

cute.

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

(photo from pinterest)

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #smut #bts #bts jk #bts smut #fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfic #sanrio #sanrio girl

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

officer!els<3

author's note - meow i love this woman.

content warnings - black!coded!reader ig????, fluff, els i love u ellie williams pls handcuff me to ur bed and police-brutalize me! , text msgs from reader that are very me-coded! , mostly just based off every grumpy but cool cop i've seen in media, lots of notes from me i'm going insane I NEED HER!!!!! , there's a white man in a pic i put... you have been warned, smut/suggestive shit at the end!

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

- def wanted to be a cop when she was a kid and then was a total fucking juvenile as a teen. (duh!)

- always loved the police officers who barely ever gave troubled kids a hard time. (this is coming from a troubled kid. acab all the way except for u guys. well, still acab, but y'all r cool!) would refuse to talk to anyone except her favorites. i fully believe that's one of the reasons she would go into this workforce.

- when she got approved to start training to be a cop, u were home with her favorite strand of weed and she gave u a look like, "🤨🤨" , "can't be doing that no more baby, i'm gonna be a cop." , "...stfu and take the first hit before you piss me off..." , she's wearing a SHIT-eating grin before she takes it. (don't ask me how she passes her drug-tests!) (probably gets jesse to do it or someone idk maybe joel if she's lucky!) (def not joel...)

- ADDING ONTO THIS!^^ : every single time you smoke when she can't she'll look so sad or just side-eye tf out of you... "really?" , "what do you want me to do ellie..." u stopped smoking around her when she couldn't...

- this woman is so intimidating but once those cop dogs come on the scene she's so cute<3 . she's so smiley and happy they love her AND SHE LOVES THEM. she definitely sent u a picture of her with the group of the babies and was like, "can we adopt them all pls i love them ):" . you guys adopted a rescue pup shortly after...

- whenever you're doing ANYTHING EVER she flashes her badge at you and says something so loser of her , "don't make me handcuff you..." or makes finger guns with the sounds and GOD I LOVE THIS WOMAN.

- speaking of badges, she always has her badge on her. ALWAYS. it is EMBARRASSING!

- when she got her first arrest she was so happy:3 . i FEEL like she took a picture with the fucker and everything and she looked so proud of herself. "good job baby now pls get to the station before that mf breaks out of those handcuffs he looks like he's gonna murder u..."

- this is a headcannon of mine (and canon so why am i saying hc maybe it's just bcs it's more in-depth in my head.) but she loves kids and whenever she sees a younger person at the station, she makes sure that they're ok and have everything they need.

- with that being said, she HATES the teens who don't have a valid reason to be such delinquents. lovable delinquents are her soft-spot but those... THOSE ONES😧.

- definitely is a kitten-saver-cop. hates getting the call but she responds every time.

- sends u this pic anytime u say something mildly threatening to her in text msgs:

suggestive/NSFW!

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- the day she got her uniform, you wanted to jump her bones. she came back home, poor girl was so tired and all you could think about is how good she looked in that shit.

- like i said... the badge is with her at all times... maybe this is too feral but i feel like she put IT in ur mouth and took a polaroid of it after u were done eating her out or SSAAAWWWWMMMMTHHHIIIIING. (pls let me wear ur badge baby i'm on my knees BEGGING YOU!)

- definitely joked about role-playing jailer/jailed and then it wasn't a joke anymore. y'all tried it once and couldn't stop laughing.

- has definitely used her handcuffs on u or vice versa. she gets so excited when u pull that shit out.

- ggggg...g-g-gu-....gggggggggguuuunnn ki-

- definitely has fucked u in the uniform. u two probs have had a quickie in the station bathroom on multiple occasions.

bonus round - police!els edit<3 :

#abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson fic #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x abby #ellie x fem reader #ellabs #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams series #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fanart #dina tlou #tlou art #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #joel miller #bella ramsey #laura bailey #ani's ellie🎀 #ani's writing📖

[sopebubbles]

Master List

Twelve

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: Yoongi takes you on a date

Warnings: slight angst (mostly talking about her past), mentions of past abuse, homelessness, fear of abandonment

Honestly yall its a lot of yoongi and oc being freakin soft 😩

Yoongi was only slightly disappointed to find you awake and making breakfast with Hobi in the kitchen when he came in after eight in the morning. He'd kind of been hoping to be able to take a peek at you in your nest, just to see for himself that you were as safe and cozy as his other omega had promised (many times) that you were last night. Although he hadn't been gripped by the same agonizing fear he had known for the month you were gone, he still hated being away from you so long last night, and he'd texted both Jimin and Hoseok multiple times last to assuage his anxiety (and his guilt). They'd promised him that you had nested just fine, had eaten well and seemed perfectly happy with Jimin's company before peacefully going to sleep. It was cute just how much he worried about the details. 

"Yoongi!" You said his name brightly when you saw him and rushed over to give him a hug. You were too energized from a good night's sleep and the cup of fresh squeezed orange juice Taehyung gave you to be self conscious about it. You didn't seem to notice the flour on your cheek until Yoongi brushed it off with a smile. "Oh sorry. I'm probably getting you dirty," you said as you tried to pull away. He held you close. 

"I don't mind. Good morning," he hummed as he rubbed his chin over the top of your head. 

"M-morning." Yoongi's arms tightening around you turned to jelly when you'd been solid only moments ago. 

How can he be so warm? He must be tired and hungry.

"Can I get you some pancakes?" You offered, and he finally loosened his hold.

"Only if you eat some with me. Have you eaten yet?" 

You shook your head. "But I need to help Hobi."

The omega waved a hand at you without looking back. "I can handle it. If your alpha says eat, then it's time to eat. Which you know. She kept saying she didn't want to eat until you got here," he added just to make you squirm. A small whine escaped your throat, drawing the attention of all the men, whether they intended to look your way or not. "Careful, girl. Your whines have power here," Hobi smirked as he set two plates in front of you and Yoongi on the counter. 

You sat down and ate quietly for a few minutes while Yoongi tried and failed to pretend he was paying more attention to the food than to you. Jin and Jungkook were laying on the couch, nearly falling back asleep after stuffing themselves before anyone else got up. Jimin had gotten up to take your place helping Hobi while Taehyung and Namjoon sat at the table sharing the newspaper. 

"What do you want to do today?" Yoongi asked after several minutes. 

You swallowed and cleared your throat. "I have to work later."

Yoongi's fork froze halfway to his mouth. "What? why?"

You shrugged. "I work Saturdays."

"You work six hours a day, six days a week?" You nodded. "That's too much."

"I-I thought you d-didn't mind me working…"

Screwed it up already. Now you'll see how he really feels. The pancakes in your stomach turned to lead. 

Yoongi could see you getting nervous, watched you grow even smaller. "No. No, I don't," he managed, forcing his voice to be calm. "I don't mind you working if it's what you want.  But that's a lot. Thirty-six hours is almost full time but no benefits. That just seems…sketchy."

You tilted your head at him. "What do you mean?"

"Just that it seems like your employer is taking advantage of you. Do you get any benefits?"

"Well, I get heat leave."

"But what about health insurance? Vacation? Extended sick leave? What if you get pregnant?" Yoongi could feel all the air leave the room and wished he could take the words back.

You shook you head and spoke softly, "Yoongi, I'm not–"

"I know. I didn't mean that. I'm an idiot. I swear I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, those are things you'd expect in a full-time job."

You shrugged. "It's not like I have a lot of options, Yoongi."

"I know," he sighed. "I just want you to be treated fairly."

You stood from your stool and walked toward the stairs. "People like me don't get treated fairly."

Yoongi got up and followed you, catching your arm as gently as he could. "I'm sorry. For what I said and how I said it. I know that you've been doing the best you could, and I have no right to judge that. Everything is okay." His hand laid hot against your neck, thumb stroking just the bottom edge of your scent gland. When he felt your shoulders relax, so did his. "Come finish your breakfast, and when you're ready I'll take you to work."

You turned worried eyes up at him. "You worked so hard, alpha. You must be tired. I'll finish, but then you need to go to sleep. Jimin and Tae will take me."

The corners of Yoongi's mouth turned up in a placating smile. "Okay."

He watched you walk back to your seat at the counter and pick up your fork, ignoring the eyes of the others as he joined you. He wanted to talk it through with you more, but he wasn't going to make you do it in front of everyone, and he didn't want to get into an argument before you went to work all day. Instead, he asked you how your night was and what you did the day before, and you plastered on a smile that slowly became more natural while you told him all about nesting and your newfound love of pillows.

When you'd both finished eating, you took your plates and washed them along with the others, no matter what Hobi said. You couldn't sit down and relax now. Doing so would only create nervous energy you wouldn't be able to dispel. You'd have to spend the rest of your day in motion. Yoongi followed you again when you went up the stairs to change for work, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a little annoying.

At the top of the stairs you turned to look at him. "Are you going to follow me around all day?" You snapped. 

Yoongi took a step back. He honestly didn't even realize how close he was. "I'm sorry. I wasn't intending to." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and you could see how tired he was. 

You crossed your arms over your chest. "What are you doing?"

He sighed. "I was going to sleep like you'd suggested. I think I was following you because…"

He wants to sleep in my nest. 

The realization dawned on both of you. "It's not time yet," you said softly, but eased your defensive stance. 

Yoongi met your eyes with equal tenderness and smiled a little. "Yet?"

"Yet," you confirmed.

Somehow the idea that there was a future nest he would be invited into was enough for him. "That's alright."

You turned on your heel to walk to your room, but he called you back. "Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?"

"A date?"

"Yeah. If you don't have any plans."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

He chuckled. "Well, I told you we could date as part of our courtship, and I would like to get to know you better."

"But…" you looked at him with an expression of such utter confusion that he wished he had a camera to document it. 

"But what?"

"I just…I don't want you to force yourself to take me on a date if you aren't attracted to me."

It was Yoongi's turn to be utterly lost. "Whatever gave you the idea that I'm not attracted to you? I'm your alpha."

"Yeah, I know, but I feel like you're just doing this, taking me in because you want to protect me, because I'm so helpless and pathetic. And you were so cool about not breeding me. Plus you have all the guys, and so I just guessed you weren't thinking of me that way." You wilted under Yoongi's amused gaze. 

He snorted. "Princess, I do want to protect you because you are incredibly vulnerable, but that doesn't change my attraction to you one bit. And there's a whole world of intimacy between protecting you and breeding you. It's vast and we should go slow, but a date is a good start. That is, unless you aren't attracted to me."

Blood rushed to your face as you felt put on the spot. What kind of omega wouldn't be attracted to the alpha he was? What person wouldn't fall for his gentle, caring demeanor? But you couldn't possibly admit to it.

Yoongi stepped closer to mark the top of your head with his scent. The embrace only lasted a few seconds before he pulled away, but it still left you weak in the knees.

"I don't have anything to wear."

Yoongi shrugged. "It will be very casual. No one will see you but me. You can wear pajamas for all I care. Bonus points if you wear one of my hoodies."

You smiled at that thought. "Okay then."

"Good. Then I'll see you tonight," he told you before he turned and went into the pack bedroom to sleep. 

Yoongi was pleasantly surprised to find an apple-scented pillow in his usual spot and let himself enjoy it for a few minutes before his memory from last night came back to him. 

He had brought a patient to the emergency room of the hospital he had brought your ex-alpha to a few nights ago. After they filled out some paperwork, Yoongi and his partner took a break. His motivation was unclear, even at the time, but he found out what room the alpha was staying in from a nurse that liked to talk to him whenever she got the chance. She told him that he was still in the ICU, but that he was in a coma, and hadn't woken up since the night he was brought in. When he found the room, there was a woman inside. A tall redhead, an alpha as well, if Yoongi wasn't mistaken, so he steered clear, but it had stuck with him the rest of the night.

When he heard you, Jimin and Taehyung leave the house, Yoongi got out of bed and went to the living room where Jin and Jungkook were still on the couch.

"Is everything okay, Yoongi?" Jin asked when the alpha only stood over them without saying a word. 

"I need to ask you some questions. Legal questions," he clarified and sat on the coffee table opposite them. 

"What's on your mind, hyung?" Jungkook sat up to give him his full attention. 

"I found out last night that her ex-alpha–"

"His name is Sebastián," Jungkook added. 

Yoongi growled. "He's in a coma. And I just need to know what's going to happen to her if he never wakes up. And I guess, what happens if he does?"

Jin sat up and shared a look with Jungkook before he spoke. "If he doesn't wake up, there would most likely be a grand jury investigation, which would determine who, if anyone, was responsible for his death."

"In that case, the blame would likely fall on the driver, since she has already been charged with drunk driving. It would be manslaughter," Jungkook added. 

"But she said she pushed him, in her statement. That won't matter?"

Jin shook his head doubtfully. "She could get charged, but in my experience, if you put that girl in front of any judge or jury, there's no way they wouldn't chalk it up to self defense. If he does survive, it wouldn't even make sense to press charges for assault. He wouldn't look very sympathetic. But whether or not she's charged criminally, if he dies, his family could bring a wrongful death suit to civil court. But again, it will be hard to make her look like a perpetrator, especially since they're both Lykos."

"You seem confident that she'll be okay?"

"I am," Jin assured him. 

"But what if she had a motive?" Yoongi worried. 

"You mean because they knew each other?" Yoongi nodded. Jin thought it over, rubbing his finger along his lower lip. "The prosecution would have to prove she meant to push him into traffic and not just to get him off of her. In that case, she'd just need to be coached not to take the bait."

"Could you do it? Would you take the case? If it came to that, I mean." Yoongi didn't know any other lawyers, and he certainly didn't know any he thought he could trust with something like this more than Jin. 

He must have been able to read that emotion in Yoongi's eyes because Jin nodded. He wouldn't take that trust for granted again. "If she needs me to, of course, Yoongi. I'll do anything for you."

You were surprised when Yoongi said he was taking you to a drive in theater. You'd hardly been to any movie theaters at all in your life, and never a drive-in, but you liked the idea of it. There were lots of benefits to it. You got to go out to a public place, but sitting in his car was relatively private. The movie removed the pressure to make conversation, but on the other hand, if the movie wasn't very interesting, you could talk through it without disturbing anyone else. It was really a perfect idea for a first date. 

He'd urged you to take a nap when you got home since the movie wouldn't start until later, and you were glad you'd taken his advice. You didn't have much to choose from when it came to clothing options, so you simply put on a clean pair of jeans and the mustard yellow hoodie he had loaned you a few days ago. Yoongi seemed pleased enough with your ensemble, repeating his compliment of how nice you looked in that color. He wasn't dressed up at all either, wearing a pair of ordinary jeans and a baggy long sleeve shirt. You wouldn't know it because he wouldn't say such a thing, but there wasn't anything you could wear that would look more appealing to him than his own clothes, because they made you look like you were his. He beamed at you when you came down the stairs to leave with him. 

"Do I look okay?" You whispered to Hoseok. 

He pinched your cheek. "You look adorable. He loves it. Believe me." He winked at Yoongi over your head and the alpha held out his hand to take you to the car. "Don't come home too early," he instructed as you went out the door together. 

Once you got settled in the front seat, Yoongi cleared his throat before he started the engine. "This is for you," he said as he handed you a brand new Samsung phone.

"Oh, I–"

"Before you say you don't need it, just consider that it's for me. I want you to make sure that you have it with you and it's on all the time. I told you that it's important for me to know where you are, so I can keep you safe, so you need a phone. And don't worry, it's not like the newest model or anything. Besides, remember you're agreed to let me provide for you. So just accept it. It has all of the pack's numbers saved already, in case you ever need one of them, and they all have your number already. I'm your emergency contact," he rambled.

Instead of offering any protest you smiled softly and unbuckled your seat belt to lean over and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, alpha," you said before you leaned back into your spot. You may have wanted to refuse, but he was right, it was for him and not you, not really. If he needed you to carry this thing around in order to feel more secure, that shouldn't be hard for you. 

You weren't prepared for more gifts when you got to the drive-in. When you found a spot to park, Yoongi told you to wait while he got out of the car and went to the trunk. You looked anxiously through the back window, but couldn't see anything that gave away what he was doing. Eventually he pushed a large gift bag and picnic basket through his open car door before he joined you again. 

"What's all this?" You wondered, looking at the tissue paper sticking out of the huge bag at your eye level.

"Why don't you open it and see?" He teased. 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you got up on your knees to be able to look over the bag, but your scrutiny only made him smile. Pulling out the paper piece by piece revealed two soft round pillows inside, one lavender and one orange.

"I figured you needed some pillows for your nest. I thought these could remind you of me and Jiminie."

Your cheeks and your eyes burned as you pulled out the two pillows, almost ball-like except for how plush they were. They squeezed nicely in your arms when you held them to your chest.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Yoongi asked, beginning to feel nervous when you didn't say anything. 

You buried your head in them to hide your wet eyes. "They're perfect." Your words were muffled, but they still warmed Yoongi's heart. When you collected yourself, you placed the pillows safely back in the bag and set it aside. "What's in the basket?"

"Oh, I asked Hobi to put together some snacks for us. But if there are any other treats you want, I'll go get something from the concession stand." Yoongi opened the top of the basket and you both reached for the box of raisinets at the same time. You whispered an apology while Yoongi plucked them out. He opened the box and handed it to you. "I'm going to go get some popcorn. Do you have a drink preference?" 

You shook your head and he got out once again to go get more snacks. You shoved a few raisinets into your mouth and put the rest away. Then you pulled out the soft orange pillow from the gift bag at your feet and held it close again. You wondered if he'd already scented it, or if it was your imagination that applied the orange aroma. 

The longer he was gone, your mind began to wander. It was hard not to think about all the first things you were experiencing lately. Your very first completely safe, self- made nest, your first drive-in movie, your first date. It had felt like you'd been living for years, in the most raw way possible, but maybe all you'd done was survive, and only barely. These new things seemed so small and insignificant to you when they were only abstract ideas, things you would live without because you didn't need them to survive, but now they felt monumentally important as each one carved a memory in your heart. And each one was available to you only because of Yoongi.

The man at the center of your thoughts broke through them when he returned several minutes later carrying a large bucket of popcorn, which he handed to you, and a large coke that he balanced on the dashboard. 

"Is everything okay?" He asked, taking in your expression, which remained pensive as he settled into his seat. 

You forced a smile, not because you weren't feeling it, but because it wasn't a thing you were accustomed to showing. "I'm fine. I…" you searched for something to say that would take you away from your thoughts. "I didn't even ask what we were seeing."

Yoongi chuckled at himself. "Oh. Yeah. It's actually a horror movie. I was actually hoping we could see the comedy that's playing on the other screen, but it was sold out, so this one was left. But if you don't like horror movies, I was thinking we could just sit and talk. Or we could leave. Or if we're really bored we could turn on the radio station for the comedy and watch it with the horror scenes."

You laughed at his ridiculous idea, but thought it actually sounded kind of fun. "Well, I do like horror movies, but option three also sounds interesting," you admitted with a smile that almost stopped his heart. 

Yoongi cleared his throat as he looked out the window. "There's still like twenty or thirty minutes before the sun sets and the movie starts. Maybe we can still talk?" 

You began to get the feeling that this was what he actually wanted to begin with. He had said he wanted to get to know you, and you supposed he had a right to know the person he was taking in, but at the same time you didn't want to overwhelm him with all of your baggage, at least not in one night. 

"What do you want to talk about?" You hedged, shoving a kernel of popcorn past your lips. 

"Well, I just really want to know more about you, but I don't want to be unfair, so you can ask me anything you want to," he offered, turning in his seat to look at you. 

"I don't know what I could tell you that Jungkook hasn't already. I mean, he must have run a background check on me, right? And he would have told you before he let you take me home?"

Yoongi shook his head. "Jungkook hasn't really said much, actually. I mean, yeah, we do know about, um, where you were before you came to the city," he said diplomatically. 

"You mean jail?" You asked provocatively. "You can say it. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, which I understand." You knew you shouldn't be getting your hackles up with him. He approached the subject gently and here you were, striking back with your claws out like the alley cat that you were. You closed your eyes to try to calm your racing heart.

He placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, it's okay. I'm not judging you. No one in the pack is, either. You're not the only person to get arrested, you know."

You opened your eyes and looked at him incredulously. "Have you been arrested?"

Yoongi nodded his head. "When I was sixteen. A friend and I stole his uncle's car and went for a joy ride. I was just a passenger, and I hadn't presented yet. They dropped the charges."

"Wow, grand theft auto," you chuckled and he did too.

"My point is, we all have a past. I mean, some of us more than others, but you're not the only one."

You eyed him uncertainly. "Did he tell you what I was arrested for? I wasn't just arrested Yoongi. I spent six months in county."

Yoongi nodded. "I know, but I'm not judging you for what you had to do."

You shook your head with a wry laugh. "That's the thing. I didn't do it. I mean yeah, she made me go out there, but I promise you I didn't sell my body. Honest. That was my first night. I may have been naive, but I'm not an idiot. The first guy I talked to was a cop, and I knew it. I could spot him easy, so I offered myself up and I let him arrest me. And when they charged me, I pleaded guilty. Do you know why?" Yoongi shook his head, dark eyes locked on yours. "Because going to jail was better than going back to my alphas."

Yoongi kept his face neutral despite the anger he felt bubbling below the surface of his skin. He'd never ever question your decision, but he would always feel angry that your situation was so bad that jail seemed like a viable alternative for you. 

"You said alphas?" He questioned when he managed to speak. 

"Two of them," you said with a nod.

"And one of them was female?"

"Yeah, they were husband and wife."

"How did you meet them? I mean…he's so much older."

You grabbed the coke from the dashboard and took a long drink to clear the lump in your throat. Yoongi's eyes never left you, but you tried to ignore him. "I met her first. I was on the streets. I was almost seventeen by then, but I'd been on my own for months. She just started talking to me one day when she was volunteering at a soup kitchen…offered me a place to stay. And I was desperate enough to not question it."

"So she just…took you in off the streets?" You nodded. "And then what?" He asked as if your story was the one he had bought a ticket for tonight.

"And then…and then everything seemed normal for like a week. They just seemed like a regular couple. They had a spare room and they needed help around the house, so I would clean and take care of the house in exchange for living there. It was several days before I realized they actually wouldn't let me leave. I hadn't really been on heat suppressants yet, and when that time came around I found out that the real reason they wanted me was because they wanted babies. They couldn't have any on their own, so they would use me. Like some fucked up puppy mill," you choked out.

Yoongi reached over to pat your back, but you flinched away from him, and he could understand that you wanted your space after such a revelation. He took his hand back and tried to think of something to say when all he wanted to do was rage on your behalf.  But he knew it wouldn't do you any good. "It makes sense that you were so frightened when two other strangers took you off the street. You must have been very scared."

You looked him straight in the eyes. "It's only been a few days. Shouldn't I still be scared?"

It wounded Yoongi deeply that you felt that way, but he could hardly blame you. He knew it wasn't about him exactly. "I'm sorry. I know there isn't really anything I could say to reassure you that you're safe with me but–"

"It's okay, Yoongi. I do feel safe with you. It's different. The way I feel when I think about you. When I'm near you…I feel safe but…" you looked out at the narrowing strip of pink sky to your left. 

"But what?"

"I've been taken in so many times when I think I'm at my lowest. When I was abandoned as a baby, when I met those other alphas, when Eli came to play big brother. And never, never has any of it actually made me safe."

"I hope–" Yoongi could feel the tears at his water line, but they would stay there. He bit his lip and looked away as well. "I hope you'll stay long enough to know that you will be safe in our home."

You looked back at him finally and noticed the collar of his unbuttoned button-down shirt was crooked. Reaching over to straighten it, you assured him, "as long as you keep it safe for me, I won't have anywhere else to go."

Yoongi took your wrist gently before you had the chance to pull away from him. With his fingertips against your pulse point, he could feel the strong, steady beat of your heart, not high enough to be panicking, but still a little anxious. "I will do everything I can to make you feel safe," he promised.

Before you could make any kind of response, the lights over the parking lot shut off and images began to play on the screen in front of you. Without another word, Yoongi released you in order to fiddle with the radio, tuning it to the right station for your movie. You both settled back into the seat, facing the screen, with a mountain of snacks in between you. You each tried your best to focus on the movie, but you could feel it every time his eyes slid toward you as he watched your profile instead of the characters on screen. Every time you turned to look at him he recentered his attention, but he was fooling no one. Several times your hands brushed when you both reached into the popcorn for a salty snack, and he would chuckle awkwardly before pulling away. 

You both tried to focus on the movie, but the truth was that it did nothing to hold your attention, not with Yoongi right beside you.

"There's something I don't understand," you said abruptly, causing Yoongi to look quickly between you and the huge screen. The movie had been pretty straight forward, to the point of being pretty boring. 

"What?"

"Why do you like me? Why me?" Yoongi laughed openly while you pouted. You pulled your feet under you and turned to face him straight on, giving up any pretense of watching the movie. "Don't laugh. I'm serious. I mean. I don't know. I guess I'm trying to understand your intentions because I want to believe that this won't be like before but I…I'm scrawny and dumb and there's nothing interesting about me. I'm not even pretty enough to make up for it all. And there are plenty of needy omegas in this city. So what could you possibly want me for?"

Yoongi's humor subsided, and he turned the radio down before moving to face you as well. His expression was serious but his eyes still held light. He reached over to brush back your hair so he could see your face in the scattered light from the projector. 

"I don't think attraction is ever really about those things. Not how someone looks or what they have to say, but how those things resonate with you. It's an elemental, a chemical thing. I just like you. Maybe that's why Hobi and Jin think we're fated mates."

"Fated mates?"

"I don't know. It's kind of…lykos folklore. Sort of what saps think of as soulmates. Like, it just feels right with someone, like you're linked to them even though there's no real reason. There's no proof that it's real. It's just a feeling I guess. But they say it only happens with alphas and omegas. And I don't think I believe it. I don't know if you feel that. But I do feel drawn to you in a way that I never have with anyone else. I don't even think attraction is the right word. I just feel like…I need to be with you."

Yoongi's eyes never left your face while he talked and you didn't realize you were holding your breath until he stopped and you inhaled so you could answer him. "Maybe that's why my omega wants me to trust you even though everything else tells me not to. Like, I should be terrified of you, but I'm just not. I just want to be good so that I can stay."

You didn't know you were leaning toward him, nor were you fully aware of the words you spoke or how they made Yoongi's heart race, but when he brushed his fingers along your cheekbone you suddenly leaned back, blinking rapidly to regain your composure.

Yoongi coughed and pulled his hand away, reaching for candy to occupy his fingers. "I guess I should be honest with you about my intentions," he said with a shrug. "Because I know they aren't entirely altruistic."

You swallowed, but kept your eyes on him. His words made you nervous, but you'd hardly call it fear. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe it's a little dark. Or maybe all alphas feel this way. I always knew I was an alpha before presentation, because I always wanted people to depend on me. I always wanted to be in charge, to be a provider, to have the people in my life need me even more than they wanted me. In a way, the attraction I have, the love I have for the others, that's the unbelievable thing. With Jimin, with you, I felt from the first time I met each of you that you needed me. You wouldn't survive without me. And I liked that. Do you think that's kind of sick?" He wondered. You couldn't tell if he wanted an answer, or if he wanted you to be a little bit scared. But still you didn't feel it.

I don't think I will survive without you, your inner self echoed. 

You reached out to him, let your fingers graze the back of his hand. "I'm not sure. I'm not the best judge of what's normal and what's not. But it sounds right to me. I think to myself sometimes, I don't know how I've survived this long. I should be dead. Omegas…we aren't built to make it on our own. Sometimes it seemed like my death was right around the corner, but I don't feel that way anymore. The last two days have felt like the safest days of my whole life," you admitted. 

Yoongi's chest felt tight, like his heart would burst through his ribs if you kept talking. He turned his palm up so he could slot his fingers through yours. You sat in silence for a moment, letting him hold your hand while he tried to keep his breathing steady. 

"I don't understand why you're not pack alpha. Is it because Seokjin makes more money?" You wondered after a minute as you brushed back his chin length hair with your fingers. 

Yoongi chuckled. "If we're getting technical, Taehyung makes the most money in the pack."

Your eyes bulged in surprise. "But I thought Tae didn't work."

"He doesn't have a job in the strictest sense, but reclusive artists are often the most sought after. His paintings sell for a high price tag to collectors."

You hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe I picked the wrong alpha." 

Yoongi tugged on your hand playfully, making you giggle. "I always wanted to be a pack alpha. When I was younger I tried to establish my own pack but…it just wasn't right. I didn't have a lot to offer back then. I've never had Jin's resources. And then I met his pack, and I felt very comfortable with them. It was easy to fall in love with each of them so quickly. But they were already complete before me. I felt surprised they even wanted me. So I let go of that dream. It's been over five years now."

"But then you met Jimin, right? Did you think about starting a pack with him? On your own, I mean?"

Yoongi shrugged. "An alpha and a beta isn't much of a pack. You can make a pack without a beta, but without an omega? What's the point?" He looked at you through his eyelashes, but then quickly away. "Besides, Jimin and I both always wanted a big pack, and he clicked with Jungkook and Taehyung right away. It would have been selfish to take him away just because I wanted to be in charge."

"You're my pack alpha though," you murmured, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine. He could only nod. "Good."

He lets his eyes close and for a minute you just watch him breathe steadily, happy that he seems content with you. But as seconds slip by you begin to feel that it might not be enough. Maybe it was silly, but you felt so much closer to him after all you'd both said, and holding his hand wasn't physically close enough anymore.

"I'm kind of cold," you told him quietly, taking him from his thoughts. 

"I can turn on the heat," he offered, letting go of your hand and reaching for the ignition. 

"Or maybe you could just hold me?"

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. He helped you move all the snacks to the backseat of the impala and moved closer so you met in the middle. You huddled into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you legs over his. You let out a quiet, happy sigh you hoped he didn't notice. 

"If you wanted to cuddle all you had to do was say so," he whispered to the top of your head. 

You turned your face into his shoulder. "I'm working on it," you mumbled. 

He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails gently against your scalp. "You're doing great, princess."

You made a noise Yoongi wouldn't only describe as grumpy and turned your face up at him. "Why do you call me that?"

"Because that's what I want you to feel like. Because princesses have everything they need provided for. And because you're special just because you're you. But if you don't like it, I can call you something else."

You nestled into him again. "Well, when you put it like that."

Once again, Yoongi turned up the volume on the radio and you both at least pretended to pay attention. Although the movie in general was pretty innocuous, you took advantage of one lame jump scare to bury your face into his neck. Yoongi held his breath as you nosed at his scent gland, causing his light, happy scent to fill the car around you. He let you stay in his arms until the end of the movie, and although you didn't fall asleep, it was an easy mistake for him to make. He scratched teasingly at your side to rouse you when the screen went dark. 

"Are you ready to go home, princess?"

You tilted your head up to see his features illuminated by the lights of other cars as they made their exits. You'd practically forgotten that there was anyone else there. Your head nodded sleepily, and Yoongi reluctantly moved you over to your side of the seat. When he moved behind the steering wheel you moved back to the center seat and strapped in the seatbelt there so you could stay close to his warmth.

No matter how old you get, the urge to stay up on a Saturday night always remains. Yoongi could tell by the soft footsteps moving about the second floor that the pack are just settling in for the night, brushing their teeth and for the most part discarding unnecessary items of clothing before staking their claim to their spots in the nest. Everyone was home for once, and they'd all sleep soundly. Even you. Even Yoongi, although he knew that it still wasn't time for you and him to share space for that activity. You climbed the stairs sleepily with Yoongi a few steps behind you, making sure you didn't slip as you swayed precariously. His hand went quickly to your hip, grabbing hold of the fabric there when you tripped over the top step. The noise brought Hoseok to the bedroom door.

"You didn't get her drunk, did you, alpha?" Hobi asked from the half open door. Yoongi rolled his eyes, because the omega knew that wasn't the plan.

"No, just sleepy," you yawned as you rubbed your eyes. 

Jimin squeezed past Hoseok to give you a goodnight hug. "You smell like you crawled out of an orange." He giggled, "apples and oranges."

Yoongi blushed while the two of you said your goodnights. 

"Do you need any help getting ready for bed?" Hobi asked softly. He'd helped you take apart your nest earlier today so that you could keep practicing. 

"No, I think I got it. And I have new pillows," you whispered happily.

"Okay then," he smiled back. "Yoongi, I'll see you in a minute," he said, and the instruction to your alpha was clear, just in case he didn't already know where he would be sleeping tonight. He closed the door and the two of you were cloaked in darkness except for a sliver of light from a lamp Hoseok left on for you in your room. 

"Are you going to tell them what I told you earlier?" You asked after a moment passed with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 

"I won't, if you don't want me too. But no one is going to judge you if you're–"

"No. I was just thinking it would be better if you did. That way I don't have to tell it six more times."

Yoongi nodded. It was a vulnerable thing you had shared, and it couldn't be easy to talk about with others. "I read once that if you talk about your trauma repeatedly, like you're telling a story, it can start to feel more like a thing that happened and not something that's still happening to you."

You cringed at the thought. "I think I'd still rather have you explain it. If you don't mind."

"Of course," he agreed easily, anything to make you more comfortable. 

"I had a good time tonight," you admitted after another quiet moment where neither of you seemed to want to leave. 

Yoongi's smile was becoming semi permanent. "I'm glad. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

He took one step closer to you and leaned down to kiss your cheek, but you turned your head up in such a way that you caught his lips with your own. You froze in surprise, and even more shockingly, he didn't move away. Yoongi took another step into you, so your chests were just touching. His hand went around your back to keep you steady despite intensifying the angle of your kiss. Still, it remained chaste even as it went on. His lips were hot and soft and just slightly moist, but he seemed content to press his mouth just gently to yours for another moment longer. Then his lips finally left yours, he whispered his goodnight and disappeared into the pack bedroom. 

😃😃 they kissed! Who wants to scream about it?

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#bts fanfic #bts abo #bts omegaverse #bts poly ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #bts jin #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts namjoon #bts a/b/o #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #bts x reader #bts fic #bts fan fiction #bts series #bts poly au #bts alphas #bts #lone wolf

[salaciousdoll]

Walk Away- Mikey Sano

━━ ༉⁩༊ Pairings : Manjirou Sano x Fem!reader, Rindou Haitani x Fem!reader

━━ ༉⁩༊ Encapsulation : Manjirou was tired of you and did the only thing he could think of, but was it worth the pain in the end?

━━ ༉⁩༊ Warnings : Angst, heavy angst, no comfort( for Mikey), cheating implied, vi0lence, small t0rture descriptions( not on reader), oc names Yasire’, chubby reader, black reader, overall just angst and hurt, everyone in Bonten doesn’t like you except Rindou and maybe Ran, Rindou is a sweetheart in this, Rindou has feelings for you, Divorce talk/ settlement

━━ ༉⁩༊ Word Count : 3.6K

( This is an old ass draft and I wanted to post it to clear out my drafts so enjoy the heartbreak 😉)

You loved Manjiro Sano so much that you put aside anything and came to his aid, but would he do the same? Yes and No.

You were laying down on the bed waiting for your husband. You honestly were getting worried because it’s 4 am and he never is out no later than 2 am. He did call you and say that he was heading to the club with his men and that you should get some sleep, but you couldn’t help but to worry about him.

You were watching the 4am news when suddenly you saw something you wished you didn’t see, “ Breaking news, there was a violent shooting around 2 am this morning, leaving multiple deaths and 2 wounded heavily, sources says this is the effect of the gang violence between Bonten crime organization and CG crime organizat-”, The news reporter says with visuals of one of the nightclubs Bonten owns. It was a terrifying sight to see and you had to call Manjiro.

Meanwhile in the Bonten headquarters, Mikey was getting his wounds fixed while Kakucho was beside him doing the same thing. This was the worst hit they’ve gotten and they just knew someone was a traitor, and Ran was the first to point it out, it’s usually Sanzu. Bonten was secured and locked with the safety of their own club, so why would their enemy suddenly attack them when they didn’t even make it known they were showing up to the club they least visit.

Mikey was on the phone with Yasire’, his ex- wife. She was the one he truly cared and loved this entire time. Kakucho and the others even liked her more than you because she actually helped him, meanwhile to them it felt like you were a show off type of woman. They knew he needed someone like Yasire’ and not you.

“ Are you okay, Manjiro? Do you want me to come over there?”, Yasire’ says into the phone, already getting her keys.

Mikey almost smiled at that and was about to answer when suddenly your name popped up and he just let it ring as the doctor was patching up his stomach. He felt sick of you and he needed you to get out of his mind and life because you were draining him and he didn’t even have a reason for why you were draining him.

“ Mikey?”, Yasire’ asks, wondering why he suddenly showed the expression of irritation. He smiled again once he saw her face and voice on the other side of the FaceTime call, “ Huh, baby? Right, what were we talking about?”

Sanzu happily answered for him, “ Invite her over, I want some of her snacks out of her bag, the other one doesn’t carry good snacks like Yasire’ does.”, Sanzu says, earning a heavy sigh from Rindou.

Rindou was the only one who thought that you didn’t deserve this. He honestly thought you were great for Mikey. Mikey always smiles and laughs with you, but then again he does that with Yasire’ too. Only with you his smile and laugh was fake, anyone could see that but you, it seems. Rindou also thought you had a funny and beautiful personality matching your pretty ass face and body doesn’t matter what size you are either, they all needed a you in their lives, Mikey just didn’t cherish what he has.

Mikey chuckled, actually chuckled before speaking, “ Come over, we missed you.”

Yasire’ smiled before saying okay and hanging up the phone. She knew about you and still didn’t care because why would she, after all you took Mikey from her and now she took him back.

Mikey smiled at the phone and couldn’t wait for Yasire’ to come. Oh, how much he loves her. God, he wished he would choose differently.

You, on the other hand, was on your way to Bonten headquarters after getting a text from Rindou saying that they’re all okay and that Mikey’s fine and was here at the HQ. You originally texted all of them and the others ignored you or blocked you, meanwhile he didn’t.

You honestly didn’t know why Mikey didn’t answer his phone. You suddenly remembered that he doesn’t kiss you goodbye or say that he wants to take you out or make love to you like he always did for these past few months.

Maybe he was cheating? No. No. No. he’s hurt right now and you’re thinking about that, what was your problem? Is this why he hasn’t been really speaking to you, have you become insecure about this relationship with him.

You scratched the thoughts out your head and continued driving to their headquarters.

Yasire’ was already there and was now hugging everyone, “ Oh, I missed you all, how did you all get caught like this in the first place, you look like hell.”

Ran smiled while pouring himself a drink, “ That's because we were fighting for our lives cherry head, why red anyways?”

Yasire’ was about to answer when she got pulled on Mikey’s lap making him grunt in the process because of his wounds, “ Mikey! Anyways, because I wanted to try a new approach, you like it, slick back?”

Everyone laughed at her corny joke while Ran held up his glass, “ That's up for your husband to decide, isn’t that right Mikey?”

Mikey huffed before nodding, “ Mhmm, you look so damn good, I wish I could see you everyday and everynight, instead I’m stuck with her.” The way Mikey said her was supposed to offend you , but the others felt the venom from that word and felt like he was talking to them.

Mochi chuckled, “ Damn, Mikey, you really don’t like y/n, huh?”

Mikey chuckled a little before rubbing a hand over his face, “ You have no idea, she adds on to my stress and doesn't even know it. She constantly worries and nags about me like shut the hell up and just fuck me. Shit! She can’t even do that right.”

The men and the woman laughed at his response. Yasire’ spoke up, “ Why don’t you just drop the bitch, if she can’t even satisfy you why are you even with her?”

Mikey kissed Yasire’ on her lips a few times before answering, “ Why can’t I be with you? I never stopped loving you and hated that she was a temptation I couldn’t resist, now I’m trapped with the most boring and weakest person ever. Believe me, I gave the bitch a hint but she doesn’t even see it.”

Everyone laughed until suddenly they stopped when Rindou got up and paused from where he was standing looking at someone with full remorse for something he didn’t even do. Everyone looked from where he was looking and gasped when they saw you with the most tired expression they saw on your face.

You didn’t even want to cry in front of all of them because you knew they were faking with you since the night of that party. He never even holds you like that so you just silently stared at every last one of them.

Yasire’ and Mikey were too busy gripping and kissing each other to not realize everyone got quiet. They didn’t notice until Takeomi spoke up, “ Why are you here?”

You cleared your throat and walked in further with your hairstyle and clothes slightly wet from the rain outside, “ I wanted to see if you all were alright, looks like you all are, nice to see you Yasire’. I’ll be getting my clothes out of your room Mikey.”

“ Oh, don’t bother, I threw them out, I paid for them didn’t I? So you could kindly walk back out of here. Don’t make this harder than it has to be y/n.”, Mikey says with his usual threatening and dark voice.

You stepped back before taking one last look around the living room and at everyone before holding eye contact with the sympathetic eyes of Rindou. You smiled at him letting him know you forgive him and it was not his fault.

“ Okay.”, You say before turning back and heading out the door and past security. Meanwhile, the men and the woman were cheering loudly as you heard Mikey’s last words, “ Don’t let that woman anywhere near this place again, understand? If she comes back, kill her.”

You felt it, you felt the salty tears coming out your eyes as you got in and started the car. You tried to get your tears out of your eyes before you started driving, so you sat there. Just like that, Yasire’ won after all these years. She never liked you since you met Mikey and supposedly stole him from her when in reality, they were broken up. You were neutral but her—she hated you.

You seen the glimpse of admiration in Mikey’s eyes when he looked at her in contrast to his dull black eyes when he looked at you. You thought you were helping him since he was back to eating like the old Mikey and his eyebags weren’t as heavy as they were. Turns out you weren’t the one helping at all, it was Yasire’ all along.

You pulled out the driveway when suddenly Rindou came out and everyone else came out after him and started waving at you in mockery. Meanwhile, he wanted to comfort you. He was closer to you than he was to Yasire’, he was going to call you later for sure.

You hurried and pulled off with anger, sadness, and resentment filled in your heart and tears streaming down your face. You tried to wipe them as you moved down the road. You stopped at a red light and collected your tears before an expensive car rode past since it was turning at the other light, firing bullets aimed at your car. They’ve been watching you since you came out of Bonten’s HQ. They didn’t know who it was in the car because of the tinted windows, all they wanted was revenge.

Three bullets hit you, one in your arm. Another in your side and another one in your shoulder. You thought this car was bulletproof since Mikey said it was, turned out he lied about that but why? Did he want you dead that bad? Damn!

The car pulled off and someone who was walking nearby called an ambulance for you. You felt like this was your last day on earth. What a shitty way to leave this world huh? When you meet with the afterlife, you gotta ask them why they chose this death for you.

You started thinking about your family and friends.

“ Y/n would you help me with this”, your mother says while cooking in the kitchen for your birthday. You almost smacked your lips because you honestly hated cooking with her, she’s too strict in the kitchen.

“ Get that paprika out of the cabinet and put it on this meat, when you put it on the meat, sprinkle just a good amount, not too much, not too little now.”, You mother says as you did what she told her.

Your little niece and nephew came running in the kitchen laughing and playing when your mother held up the spatula cursing them out, “ Let me tell y’all something, stop running in my goddamn kitchen, y’all better be lucky I didn’t put on the cake yet. Now, would you two please go sit down somewhere.”

You laughed at them playing and hitting each other while leaving the kitchen before your mother spoke up again, “ I tell you, those two act just like you and your brother and sister did. All three of y’all irritated the hell out of me, but I love you all to death. Always remember that.”

You heard a deep voice call your name, but you just wanted to keep walking to the end of the path where the light was until you suddenly got dragged back. In reality, you were now being carried to the ambulance truck with Rindou by your side with tears in his eyes while his brother called everyone else in the background.

You felt a hand reach for your hand as they strapped you to the stretcher and multiple sayings of “hang on” and “ I’m gonna be right behind you”. You knew the voice and wanted to smile but couldn’t because you needed to breathe.

Rindou felt like he couldn’t even think because you just got hurt by the enemy and Mikey or anyone else aren’t really believing it. The only reason he knew it was because his brother had everyone on speaker.

When he heard Yasire’ giggle, he lost it, “ Ran! Hang up the phone, there’s no use in talking to stupid bitches, now let’s go before I really put a hit out on Yasire’, I’m feeling murderous right now and she’s gonna be my main target and right now I don’t give a fuck how mi-”

“ Ok!”, Ran yells before hanging up the phone quickly. He smirked at Rindou, “ I knew you liked y/n, I knew it.”

Rindou ignored him and got in their car while Ran got in the passenger seat. He pulled off thinking about you and only you. Did he like you? Only time will tell now.

When Rindou found out you were in a coma, he went on a binge of drinking and partying. He couldn’t handle it, he wanted to tell you everything he’s been meaning to say to you the day you came back after the vacation that you and Mikey had. He could see the sadness upon your posture, but it didn’t match your facial expression which showed happiness and gleefulness.

Another thing he hated is when the guys talked about you in an I’ll manner in front of Yasire’ and other women they were around. He especially hated it when they did it in front of him too. He always leaves the room when Mikey speaks about you. He used to hide his words but later on, Mikey words became more bitter making him have to bite his lip in order to not get killed, so he just leaves the room.

He visits you everyday and was the only one to visit until now when he saw Mikey with flowers and the rest of the men he mainly be around behind him when he entered with his own flowers and stories to tell. He never told Mikey and the others anything about what hospital you were at, only his brother, which means his brother spilled the beans. He had to because of the look he’s giving Rindou now.

Yasire’ was nowhere to be seen because just a few days ago, they learned that she was the one who put the hit out on Bonten. She was working beside her husband from Bonten’s rival gang. She used Mikey and Bonten, but had to pay the price in the most nastiest way.

Her face was torn off and fingers were gone, Rindou was the one torturing her this time while her husband now has flies flying over his body from Sanzu torturing him while laughing at his pleas. Mikey was stunned that he turned away and left the room. He was double crossed and this is his first time too.

“ Y/n, look I brought these flowers for you. I was hoping you’d be awake, but you’re in a coma…Tell me Rindou, why are you bringing my wife flowers and hiding where she stays?”, Mikey asks prior to turning around to face an irritated Rindou at the entrance.

Mikey continued not even letting him get a word out, “ She’s mine. Don’t you dare think about getting with her or near her. How dare you try to hide her in a unknown hospital when we own the fucking hospital Rin, how stupid could you b-”

Rindou couldn’t respond because he was watching your fingers move and finally your strangled voice called out to someone he never thought you would say.

“ Rin.”, You say before Mikey eyes widened at his wife speaking, only calling out the wrong name. Everyone else sighed in relief when they heard your annoying little voice again. They may not have liked you but that didn’t mean they didn’t have some “respect” for you.

Rindou hurried and grabbed your hand as you turned your head to him with low and tired eyes, “ Rin? That’s you? Thank you for watching over me and talking to me. You were the main reason I held on for this long. By the way, how long has it been?”

Rindou smiled before sucking up his tears, not wanting to cry in front of his comrades and his boss, especially over his wife who he didn’t get a chance to divorce yet, “ It’s been two months, n/n.”

Everyone paused because he never called you a nickname before so why now. Did he have a death wish?

You tried to smile but ended up coughing, which made him hurry to bring the cup of water to your mouth, but you laughed because they were little coughs, “ God Rindou! I’m okay, I just need to breathe, slow down and sit down, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Rindou nodded before sitting down and moving his leg up and down anxiously. He knew he could either be turned down or shot for you. He didn’t want any of that.

You slowly moved your head to Mikey, “ You. Why are you here? You cause me this pain, look at me Mikey! Look!”

Mikey couldn’t look at you because he turned the chair to the wall and sat down, staring at it with silent tears. He couldn’t face you, not after putting you through hell and back.

“ And you all! Why the hell are y’all here, hmm? Did you come here to laugh or take pictures, which one?”, you ask, trying to keep your sentences short so you don’t have to do a lot of talking.

Sanzu being the smart ass he is spoke up, “ I mean we could have but then I don’t want anyone like y-”

Mikey stood up at the same time as Rindou and they both scared Sanzu because of the look they were giving him. Mikey pointed a finger to the door, “ Out. All of you!”

Most of them sighed before touching your covered feet or tilting their heads on the way out, meanwhile Rindou stayed where he was making his brother, who was the last one to stop to try to grab him. He suddenly snatched away from Ran and declared he’s staying no matter what. Ran sighed before stepping out and closing the door— standing right beside it just in case anything goes down between his brother and his boss, Mikey.

Mikey gave Rindou a stare that had malicious intent and you could feel it, so you spoke up, “ What could you possibly say that he can’t hear?”

“ Y/n, let’s not do this and just come home with me.”, Mikey says, taking your hand.

Rindou laughed before speaking up, “ How dare you? How dare you act like you care about her just because the other girl slipped up and fucked you over. Now you want to come back to her.”

Mikey snapped his head to Rindou, “ I’m speaking to my wife! Are you going against me!” Rindou did nothing but laughed until you spoke up, “ He's Not going against you, Mikey. Rindou, baby, can you step out for a minute? I’ll yell if he tries to strangle me while I’m at my weakest.” It was a joke but Rindou took it seriously while Mikey's facial expression dropped in disbelief and sadness. Did you always think he’ll do that to you? And why are you calling Rindou baby?

Rindou smiled when he saw you nod your head before stepping out with a smile on his face at the word baby until he was slapped in the back of his head by Ran, who was shaking his head at his little brother.

Inside the room, You and Mikey stared at each other in utter silence.

He was about to speak when you suddenly spoke before him, “ I want a divorce!”

He was stunned as he gulped down his fear that was laced as spit, “ Y-”

You shook your head, “ No, don’t argue, just agree and get out. It’s for my mental health and I refuse to be with someone who treated me like shit because let me ask if she would’ve never betrayed Bonten, would you still be with her?”

Mikey tried to walk to you but you held up your hand, so he spoke instead, “ Y/n, plea-”

“ Manjiro shut the fuck up and answer the fucking question!”, You yelled in anger and exhaustion.

Mikey gulped before looking away and nodding his head confirming not only his answer but his divorce too. He was letting you go because he knew he was bringing you pain when you said your final words to him.

“ Great! That’s all I needed. The divorce papers will be sent to your office. Goodbye Mikey, it was a glorious ride, now see yourself out please and send Rindou in.”, You say not caring about his hurt expression.

Mikey slowly trudged to the door and opened it but not before stopping to say one last thing while Rindou was standing at the door opening, “ Have a good life y/n, you were the one who made me happy all this time. I was blinded before and now I’ve gotten my happiness taken from me again.”

He then looked at Rindou with hatred and admiration in his eyes, “ Take care of y/n for me, Rindou.” On his way out he thought heavily about you and Rindou. He wanted to know what was so special about Rindou, he found out while sitting on the bench outside the hospital with tears in his dead eyes : it was the love and care he gave you that he couldn’t give you. He will always hate himself for giving you and Rindou the chance to love each other, but it’s for your own good.

━━ ༉⁩༊ Tagging: @dejwrites @eiflawriting @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @bontens-angel @bontensbabygirl @celi-xxmoon @ushijimasslut @Nalyana @cryingchild83 @mikeys-gf @anyahlator

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x black!reader #tokyo revengers angst #mikey angst #mikey sano x reader #rindou x reader #rindou haitani #rindou haitani fluff #fluff #angst #black!reader #fem reader #chubby reader #anime men x reader #anime men #anime x black!reader #x black reader #tokyo revengers

[s-4pphics]

i wrote ballerina!reader and tattooist!ellie bc i’m high and obsessed now

cw: oc being a slut, sexual tension, flirting, slight asshole!ellie, mentions of stripping and tattooing 🤭

you had walked into the parlor with the intentions of getting a small tattoo.

after confirming your age and signing some documents, the parlor clerk told u that it was going to be a ten minute wait because your requested artist—ellie williams— was still with another client. you had already sent her your reference photo weeks ago, in which she replied with a quick cool:p and a link to her cashapp to send your deposit to confirm your appointment.

you’d been suggested ellie’s account on insta and u took note of how sleek her artwork was. she did it all: cartoon characters, realistic portraits, animals! anything you could think of, she knew how to do. her shading and coloring was incredible, and her clients had left nothing but praises in her comments. you would never say, but u took note of how good her hands looked in the videos that she posted on her account.

you were mindlessly scrolling through twitter after watching multiple videos of waffle house employees fight for their lives before you heard a raspy call of your name. your head perked up, and you made eye contact with the girl who’d been plaguing your thoughts since you saw her.

you stood outta your chair too enthusiastically as you hopped your way closer to her. “hi, i’m her,” you confirmed with a toothy grin.

you noticed how she took in your appearance with a lazy gaze from your head to your toes. you were in your usual attire: a lavender sweatsuit with a rhinestoned juicy slapped across your ass, hoop earrings, and slightly worn uggs with your small bag slung over your shoulder. your brightness looked so out of place in the dimly lit, grungy looking building. instead of shying away, you gave your own eager gaze back, taking in her own presence: a simple black t-shirt with matching jeans, a full tattoo sleeve on her left arm that peaked out from her actual sleeve, and vans. her ears were also heavily pierced. her get-up was nothing special, but she still had your knees trembling.

she gave you a quirk of her brow as her lips pursed slightly before she turned to walk you into her studio. “cool, my studios this way.”

she led you near the back of the parlor, pulling open the brass door for you as she granted you entry. you pretended that you didn’t catch her looking at your ass.

“you can just sit here while i set up, it’ll be like… two minutes.” she said calmly, nodding her head towards the tattoo chair. she sounded tired.

“long day?” you stupidly asked. of course she had a long day, you idiot! look at her! you mentally scolded.

she was sterilizing her tattoo gun before she replied casually, “yeah, i um… between you and me… my last client was a douchebag. i had to put my earphones to keep from decking him in his throat. he just kept saying snarky shit to me and thought i wouldn’t catch it. fucker didn’t even tip.”

let me make it better, baby! you thought. i want your tip!

“damn, that sucks, i hope i can cheer you up,” you said with a dreamy tilt of your head.

she perked her head up to look into your eyes before humming in acknowledgment, looking back down at her work table.

she broke the silence a couple minutes later, sitting on her rolling chair before scooting closer to you and leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, “so your reference is done printing, where were you thinking about getting your tat?”

on my puss—

you mentally shushed the slutty side of your brain, sitting up straighter in the reclining chair, “well i’m a dancer! i’m not allowed to have anything super… visible on my arms n legs because it’ll be distracting to the audience—“

“i never heard of strippers having that problem,” she said abruptly with a confused look. your face ran hot.

“i-i’m not a stripper,” you stuttered out before clarifying. “there’s nothing wrong with stripping! but i��m… i’m not. i do ballet.”

“uh huh.”

“i am! genuinely, i’m super flexible!”

“so are strippers,” she said blankly.

fuck. you were losing her.

“i mean it! my academy’s headmaster would lose her mind if she saw that any of us got something permanent on our bodies. i was thinking some place more…. discreet?”

“mhm. like where?”

“m-my… my um.. hip. like my lower hip.”

“okay. how low?”

“huh?” you squeaked out. fuck. really, really low—

she smirked at you before calmly replying, “how far down do you want your tattoo? it’s pretty small so it should be quick.”

“i don’t know. as far down as you can get it,” you replied slightly huskier.

“uh huh,” she said with a slight nod while licking her lips. “lay back for me.”

and you never laid down so fast.

#ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams smut #ballerina!reader #black!oc #the last of us #works 𖧧࣪ #lesbian #thot thoughts 𓈒⁀➷ ‿➹ #tattooist!ellie ✎ ᝰ

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Scorpio Curse (König x F!OC)

Part 2/3 of Valkyrie

(Part 1 here)

Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.

Category: Smut 🔞, angst, fluff

Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, p in v, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, squirting, hugs and cuddles, super fluffy ending. König will be named in later chapters. 

Part 2: Mostly König who is in desperate need of a hug (don't worry, he will get it soon enough :*)

A/N: KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi. 

"You should've come to me, König."

He was still here.

No one had told him to leave his stuff and sign the papers and get the fuck out.

He had been called to see the team leader, though.

Immediately.

"It's true that we don't do that shit. Especially with the SpecGru, not after everything that already went through."

He told his side of the story, and apparently, the command agreed that Conor had made a mistake.

"Your superior officer slipped, but that doesn't mean you have the right to do whatever the fuck you deem more appropriate."

The leader's cheeks were red, and his voice traveled from peaceful, tired account to a booming loud yell.

"To tell you the truth, König, you're good at what you do. But pull this kind of shit again, and the KorTac will ensure you lose your rifle for good. They'll make sure you'll get spat in the face in every fucking PMC on this fucking planet, you hear me?"

He was surprised he didn't catch spit flying right now.

"Sir."

"Now go fix that goddamn fence."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

König, former weapons sergeant of the Jagdkommando and current operator of the special forces known as KorTac, felt like a fresh recruit when he turned heel and marched from the office. He thought about asking whether the surveillance tape would be destroyed or if it was already but sensed that this was not the best moment to ask questions. The leader's tired voice followed him as he walked away with cold sweat tingling down his back.

"Jesus. Where did you even get those bolt cutters.."

He worked half a day to get it right. Repairing the fence was easy, but fixing it so that it wasn't a weak spot in the area's defense was not. He had kneeled down in this exact same spot less than 24 hours ago, with a tense, silent cargo thrown on his back in a fireman's carry.

He had yanked the door to the surveillance room open to let the men know they could get a coffee break while he watched the prisoner — only to find that there was no one there. He had been played twice the fool, and she had paid the price. He wasn't man enough to tell her it had been all in vain when he went to get her.

He certainly wasn't going to tell her that he would still do it all again.

She stayed mute the whole journey to the fence, remained quiet even when he placed her gently on the ground and showed her the hole he had made on the chain link fence for her to crawl through.

"There you go, little Walküre."

She stared at his work for a while, sniffed, then looked up at him.

"You think you can fit through that?" He asked, although he had made sure the hole was big enough for even him to go through.

"Yeah…" she uttered her first words since forever before reaching for her road to freedom. Realizing she was still tied, she pivoted back.

"My hands.." she started, but he was already kneeling on the ground with his combat knife pulled out. With utter care, he cut her loose. She caught him after it was done, and he glanced at those tiny fingers that barely reached to close around his wrists.

"Thank you."

He raised his stare, and her eyes bored into his as she ensured her words had sunk in. Then she turned, dived for the hole… but turned back again.

"König."

He had enough time to discover that the naked pain in her eyes was of the exact same kind as the agony spreading in his heart before she leaped to him, threw her arms around him — and suddenly, he was home.

"Don't get yourself killed." Her voice was a muffled sob that hit his skin through the mask as she pressed her face against his neck and squeezed him with a surprising amount of strength. Dumbfounded, he raised his arms but wasn't sure if she would welcome the touch. He didn't want her to think he would seize her just when she had been offered a way out.

"Promise that you won't get killed."

He knew that he would probably get maimed for this. At the very least, he would lose his contract. But he hadn't even thought about it when he made that hole and carried her here.

She released him and pulled back. Her eyes were pure attention, a time-halting awareness that seized him without warning. It didn't matter that he was loaded with gear, that he had a helmet and a mask on. She could see him. All of him. And she smiled.

Then she reached for his mask.

He did nothing to stop her as she grabbed the hood and started to lift it. His vision went black with the ascending cloth for the longest second…

And then he could see again — see her wide eyes roam his face. The silence was pierced by a few raindrops, the first of an impending heavy rain. They landed on his helmet and on his arm guards, specked on her cheeks as they fell from the heavy clouds above them.

"Wow," she breathed, with parted lips and eyes that sparkled.

She grabbed his helmet through the cloth and pushed both the hood and the piece of metal away. The bundle landed somewhere next to him with a soft clunk a second before her lips pressed against his.

Rain fell, and with it, the paint from around his eyes — all the black he had surrounded himself with ran down his cheeks and neck, all the way under the collar of his shirt and over his heart that thumped like a maniac. They were in a warm August shower together, and she pulled him by his neck, threatened to swallow him, and he could do nothing but melt and surrender and answer with the same gentle hunger.

Her fingers swept across his chin; they caressed his temples, brushed his scalp, and tugged at his hair, not hindered by the fact that there wasn't much to grab hold of in the classic military undercut. They slid down his neck, grabbed his tactical vest, and pulled him deeper into the kiss. She sucked his lip, kissed the raindrops away, and he was hard as a rock even in the pants that were soaked and cool.

When she relented, all too soon, he would've given everything to freeze time and stay there. Under that hail, kneeled in that mud — with her, forever.

"I can't go through that fence unless you promise me," she panted in his mouth, and every single fiber in his body told him not to promise anything. He wanted to grab her instead, take her back, tuck her somewhere safe, and keep her as his own.

"Ok," he whispered.

A gush of hot air landed on his face as she gave a short laugh.

"Ok what?" She smiled against his mouth, her teeth colliding with his lips.

"I… promise."

"'Atta boy," he felt the words before he heard them, and she kissed him once more, and he could've drowned in that kiss. In those words.

"I'll never forget this," she said, lips wet with all that rain, eyes blinking through the drops that slithered down her face and got caught in her lashes.

I'll never forget you.

"No problem."

"No problem…? God. Could you get any more charming?"

She thought he was charming…

"Just one more thing, hero."

She bit her lip, looked down on the soaked grass, then up at him, and smiled.

“What’s with the hood? I really don’t get it. You look super nice.” She winked an eye at him. And then she turned and crawled through that hole and vanished into the darkness.

He was left alone in the descending rain, and there he had remained ever since.

He was convinced he still had her scent on him. He never washed that shirt he had been wearing the day he lifted her in his lap. He tried to catch her from it, and for a few days, he thought he actually did. But then that scent became only a memory.

Nevertheless, it followed him everywhere. No one knew that he was encompassed by it. That he was shrouded with her as he walked the base or rose on the plane.

Days passed by, and he still felt her lips on his own. Her taste in his mouth. Felt her legs around him, her soft walls surrounding him.

He replayed the frenzied vision over and over again in his head to remind himself that he had truly been inside her. That he had made her produce all those sounds. Made her clench around him and smell like honeydew and summers by the lake. He realized that he had started to truly live only after he had opened the door to that bleak room full of her. And then his life froze like a movie that was pressed on an eternal pause as he saw the soles of her boots push against the muddy ground to get her through that fence and away from him.

Three weeks passed — three weeks without her.

He did his job, went on missions, and executed orders to the letter.

But mostly, he was in his thoughts.

Mostly, he thought of her.

He thought of her when he had a rifle in his hand during ops. He thought of her during briefings, when he did deadlifts, racked a barbell after bench press, or sparred with training knives.

He thought of her in showers, in the mess hall, and most of all, in bed at night when he stroked himself to a release that eased his sleep.

He had never been so virile, not even as a teen. His libido was off the roof as the only thing he could think about was how he could get to jerk himself off in the shower stall or in his bunk after the day was done. Thoughts of her were his reward, the only thing that seemed to sustain him.

She was the most radiant thing in his life: everything else had faded away, turned to gray and black. Monotone, lifeless, empty. The pain faded for a while every time he came into his fist. Then it hit him with an even more crippling force as he realized that she wasn't real; she wasn't here.

Still, he fantasized what it would be like to hold her after, how they would drift off to sleep together. He envisioned her skin, her scent, her hair. The top of her head against his chin, her little hands around his neck, her laugh, all of it.

Sometimes when he had a hard day, he fantasized how her body would press softly against his back, and she would slide an arm around him, and it would disappear beneath his shirt. Her palm would come and rest right where his heart was, and she would just hold him.

On the worst days, he cried. He thought of the bullies and what they would say and how they would laugh if they saw him now, curled up in the soiled sheets with a cock in his hand, falling asleep on a tear-soaked pillow.

After a few months, he started to dissolve.

He got reckless on the field — jumped out of the helo before it had even landed properly, was all sloppy with his cover, wasted bullets, and revealed his position for the sake of getting up close and personal, for having the satisfaction of killing his opponents with a knife or with his bare hands.

People complained. Hutch complained, Fender complained — even Zero complained.

Some said it was just good old König, that he didn't care. Medics said he had a guardian angel with him when he never got hit, got barely even scratched when at the same time, some of the best operators were severely injured.

And some saw right through it.

"He fell in love with that sniper bitch. That's what's wrong with 'im," Conor had said.

He had nearly attacked the man for what he said — what he had called her. His angel.

But he knew that's what Conor wanted: to taunt him into making a mistake that would result in his dismissal from the force. Would probably destroy his chances to continue a career anywhere in the military. And then he would quickly find himself in civilian life, where he had never quite fit into.

"Promise me you won't get killed."

He had promised her to stay alive, and he couldn't disappoint her. So it became a prayer. Every night he made an offering to her, so she would keep him safe. No bullet could touch him. He knew that somehow she could feel his longing, the love he had for her. She would protect her like the war maiden that she was. And even if he caught that bullet, he knew it would only take him to heaven. She had already carried him there.

Six months without her, and people started to fear him.

His teammates looked at him with dread as he geared up for missions with the secret knowledge that he was practically immortal. The team leader said he resembled a machine, and he took it as a compliment. Even Lieutenant kept his mouth shut and looked at him with something akin to respect.

But he got even more time off when he wanted the exact opposite. He was pretty sure that there was a note in his file now. Right after the screaming red words released a prisoner without the requisite order from a superior officer. A comment that said he was behaving wrong, that he was unstable or something. They offered him cognitive therapy, sleeping pills, meditation groups, ice baths, even acupuncture. He turned it all down, knowing that it was no use.

And so they sent him home more and more often.

It was even worse there. He never wanted the leaves, but KorTac was firm in their protocol. Contract soldiers needed time off duty to prevent "substantial impairment concerning the operator's ability to work." Even if he wanted to, he couldn't stay in the barracks and get every mission he could get his hands on.

He sat in his apartment, slept late, went for a swim, went to the gym, and came back to sit and sleep. He thought of her when he walked the streets with a hole in his chest, a hole as deep as the Mariana Trench. He saw her in all the women of the same height and weight as her. At some point, he realized he had never paid so much attention to women as he did now.

"Go get a pint and a girl, König. Just get it out of your head."

Zero meant well, but he could've punched him too for saying that.

He didn't want a girl; he wanted her.

Pint sounded good, though. He had visited the nearest pub only a few times before, but the place had only reminded him that he was not home and that pubs were different from bierstubes. But right now, he didn't want to go back to that cold, dark flat to stare at the ceiling and wait till sleep would come.

He pushed the door open and stomped his feet on the mat even though it didn't rain outside. He walked further into the dimly lit hall and saw that early evening wasn't the busiest time in this place: more than half of the tables were empty.

And then he looked for the counter and saw her.

His Kriegsmädchen was there.

His Walküre was here.

She was here and looked just the way he remembered her — no, even more luminous. Glowing.

Perhaps he had finally lost it. But he kept looking, blinking, and saw her fingertips curl around a glass, saw the hair she had tied into a high ponytail, the smile that spread across her face just before she laughed.

The angelic sound went straight between his legs and stabbed a hole in his gut, and he was bleeding — months and months of pain, right there in the hallway of a quiet pub.

She was alive and safe, laughing, and so lovely that his hands started to tremble just as they had when his bullies approached him back in school. It was odd because she was everything but. He took a step, heart thumping and palms sweating, like he was approaching an enemy he knew he had to finish with his bare hands.

He walked to the counter in the eye of a storm, and she evaded his gaze and tried to act like she didn't even notice that some man was striding toward her.

Did men approach her often?

Of course they did. And she tried to look like an immovable stone, a prey that wouldn't draw attention.

"Walküre?"

And only then did she turn her gaze, eyes filled with both fear and hope.

Her mouth opened, and she drew a sharp breath, shoulders tense. He had to fight tooth and nail to not grab her and press her against that counter or kiss her, devour her while he carried her off out that door...

"... Valkyrie?" Her friend repeated sarcastically, with a birth of a laugh on her lips, staring at him like he was a circus attraction. He didn't spare even a glance her way.

Couldn't, because he was mesmerized by the most soothing gaze in the world.

"Hi," she breathed, voice almost breaking.

His eyes went straight to her lips as she said it, the sound far too similar in his mind to the breaths that had escaped her in that dull, grey room.

She cleared her throat and swallowed.

"Kate, this is… Siegfried. A friend from my old job."

He knew he should move, look to the side, and say hello. Act normal. But he couldn't move, couldn't even blink.

She pursed her lips and looked down at her drink, at her friend, and then back up at him.

"Nice to meet you," her friend spoke, and he finally managed to turn his eyes toward her and nod slowly.

“You must be the battering ram.” She took a sip of her drink with a flash of eyebrows.

He heard a sharp inhale from beside him and only wanted to ignore everything and everyone else in the room except for the one who gasped like that.

“You know, the one they send to charge through doors?”

“Done that too.”

The friend called Kate's eyes widened from the stare he knew made most people uncomfortable.

"What are you doing here?"

His angel spoke, and he turned. She was looking even more beautiful with flushed cheeks. It was strange to see her like this: sitting gracefully on that bar stool, wearing jeans and a bit of mascara. She wasn't covered in dirt and sleepless nights and fear, and he realized that he never wanted to see her like that again. He wanted her safe and sound, and happy; even if she had come on this earth to fight, just like he, even if she was deadly with a rifle. Even if she was a more able-bodied sniper than he ever could be.

"To get a lager."

"No, I mean," she laughed, sending warmth between his legs, "Why are you here, here?"

After a blink or two, he realized she meant the town.

"I'm on leave. I live here."

"Oh." She bit her lip. "Kate, um. Would you… Would you mind if we catch up a bit?"

He saw from the corner of his eye that the woman looked him up and down, and then a smile started to creep up her face.

"You know what June, I think I'm gonna head home. You two catch up for as long as you need and I'll see ya later, ok?"

Her name was June.

Like midsummer fests and seagulls and Radler.

Honey and raindrops…

"I'll go grab a table," he declared, thinking how odd that sounded, thinking whether his English was somehow off. As if he was going to physically grab a table and raise it in the air...

Kate chuckled behind his back as he turned and headed for a darker, more private corner.

"Jesus Christ, June… I knew you did some special commando shit, but that guy is -"

"Will you keep your voice down?"

"I mean… If you catch up all night, I doubt you'll be able to walk tomorrow."

"Kate…! "

The rest of the exchange of words faded as he reached the table and adjusted the chairs to be able to sit down.

Then he noticed that he was still wearing his jacket and got up to take it off. He saw her coming with her drink in hand, and she flashed a smile at him as he threw the leather bomber across the chair next to him.

"Nice jacket."

He looked down at the dark brown leather, worn and looking mostly what people called vintage or something.

"You gonna go get that beer, sweetie?"

Sweetie.

Sweetie.

"Ja," he nodded, turned, and marched back to the counter.

He ordered a beer, then asked what the lady over there was having.

"I think she, ah… ordered a mojito." The bartender extended his neck to the side to glance at their table. "Yeah, that's a mojito."

"One of those as well."

The man gave him a look that distinctly said You really think you're gonna get some of that? He didn't know what it was in his aura that told people he was a loser. Or a menace. And he didn't know which of those looks made the pain worse. But all of it faded instantly as she greeted him with a shy smile when he returned to the table with the drinks.

"Oh, you shouldn't have… I haven't even finished this one." She raised those lovely eyes at him, smiling, smiling… "Thank you, König."

Her fingertips brushed his as he gave it to her, the glass sweating with tiny cold drops of condensed water. She had pale pink, almost nude nail polish that made her nails look shiny and pure, her hands even more delicate. She watched as he scoured through the chairs to take a seat, pick a coaster and place his own glass on the table.

"A big one."

She then turned those playful faerie eyes on him, and he was suddenly grateful that he had picked the loose, black cargo pants to wear today… and that he was sitting.

"This is considered a small beer where I come from."

"I'm sure it is," she chuckled. The tight, white t-shirt she wore reminded him of the first time he had seen her, even though it was not one of those heavy cotton, military shirts. He grabbed the beer to do something, anything, and raised it to his lips, almost pouring the liquid all over him when he took a sip. She watched him gulp and smiled even wider. He was half hard at that point and had to spread his legs to accommodate and conceal what was happening in his pants and under the table.

"What about you, Walküre? What are you doing here?"

"I'm helping a friend -uh, Kate. She had an awful breakup."

He nodded and kept picking up his beer, drinking a small sip and trying to hit the center of the coaster as he set the glass back down.

"You're not with SpecGru anymore?"

"I signed off one week after… After. You know."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, even though he wasn't sorry at all. At least, not for the fact that she was out of harm's way.

"Nah, don't be. It was for the best. I'm able to sleep at night and everything."

She had trouble sleeping? Maybe that's why she looked even more radiant than before. She had slept well.

"I was worried about you."

"Really?" she tilted her head to the side, and her eyes started to shine even brighter.

"... that you might not find your way home."

"I'm a big girl. Trained with the Green Berets and everything.. But it warms my heart to hear that. I worried about you, too."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Sure, I mean… I was afraid you'd get into some trouble because of me."

Someone laughed at the next table, but the unexpected sound reached him through a comfortable haze; like he was sitting underwater. The battlefield wasn't nearly as distressing an environment as this peaceful pub - or any other place he rarely visited. But this time, with her, it was not too bad. His senses were blown wide, but he wasn't afraid.

"Also ja… They did yell at me."

"That's horrible. I could never yell at you."

He felt himself nearly choke on the beer, tried to breathe through his nose, and forced the liquid down with an audible gulp.

"You kept your promise," she said in a low voice, her smile fading slightly. Her eyes locked with his, and he basked in the warmth.

"Natürlich."

I prayed for you every single night, Kriegsmädchen.

She gave him a small, sad smile and looked down, swirling her ice-filled glass.

"You know I…" she started, took a breath, then another. "I've missed you, König."

He squeezed the tall glass before realizing that it might actually break at some point.

"I've missed you too, Walküre."

He looked at his beer, still halfway full, and then at the completely untouched drink he had brought her.

"You want to go to my place?"

Part 3:

#könig fanfiction #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #call of duty #könig imagine #my fics #könig x oc #könig #könig x female oc

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 5

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Thank you for all the love on this little series guys! Literally makes my day seeing you guys interact with it. Little bit of a shorter one, but I hope you like it. Been thinking about maybe taking requests? Obviously I am still quite new to this so I may not be good at writing everything. But if you have any ideas feel free to throw them my way :) The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

Challenges only happen once a week, so the next few weeks I continue to feel Imogen’s gaze on me every time we’re in the same room. Which is only a few times a day for meals and battle brief. But every single time I feel her eyes on me, watching my every move. I get the feeling the only reasons she hasn’t tried to start a fight already is us being on the same squad, and the fact I am Xaden’s sister.

As we stand around the mats watching the matches take place, I can practically hear my heart beating in my ears. I know I can hold my own on the mat, but something about the prospect of me being called up with Imogen terrifies me. The boys have assured me its nothing and I am over thinking. But the looks they give each other, mainly Garrick, do not convince me in the slightest. And despite how many times I had asked Garrick directly, he would not budge. I hadn’t talked to him or the others in the last few days, mostly keeping to my fellow first years in my squad. I wasn’t the only one who had noted their annoyance at me ignoring them. With Violet and Rhiannon commenting on it. Multiple times Garrick had tried to get me alone between classes or at the end of the day.

The moment I’ve been dreading is here. Emetterio points a finger at Imogen and I with a smile on his face. “My two best female fighters. Lets see what you can do.”

I’m kind of glad Garrick and Xaden are busy with their own fights to see us called up. But Bodhi is not. He goes to move but I give him a look, trying to convey I do not want him to interfere. He falters for a second before nodding and staying in his place. He’s probably going to get an earful from Xaden and Garrick later. But I don’t care. I need to know why she’s been acting the way she is. And if Garrick and Xaden get involved before the fight starts, they have the power to call it off.

Imogen starts circling the mat as if I am her prey. As if she’s out to kill me. As much as I would like to think my squad and being Xaden’s sister keeps me safe, the reality is people die in the riders quadrant. Nothing keeps you safe here.

”You need to keep away from what’s not yours Riorson.” She spits out at me.

What's not mine? Her eyes flick to Garrick a few mats away who is still focused on his fight to see Imogen and I have been paired up. That’s when it clicks. There is either history there, or she wants him. And here I come, essentially back from the dead and either put a divide between them, or wrecked any hopes she had of being with him. She’s jealous. And honestly who wouldn’t be. As per usual he is fighting without a shirt on, and its definitely a site to see. All the girls near his mat are watching him. She thinks I’m his. If only her words were true.

I don’t get a chance to respond back. In a blink of an eye Imogen has run at me and starts berating me with punches I can barely keep up with. Occasionally she gets a hit on my ribs, stomach or the side of my face. She’s coming at me with every thing she can. She tires for a second and I step back before launching a well placed kick to her stomach, sending her stumbling back before I am on her again. She not as lucky as I was when it comes to blocking punches and I manage to her a few decent hits on her. One of them lands on her nose, sending blood down her face and across the mat.

I vaguely hear male voices yelling that sound like Garrick and Xaden. But I block them out, focusing on the fight at hand. My luck runs out and she gets a well placed knee into my stomach causing me to double over, earning me a knee to the face and a sickening crunch to my nose. The familiar taste of blood trickles into my mouth. She pushes me to the ground and I have enough time to shield my face before she’s punching me again. Someone tries to pull her off but they are pulled away. I use the distraction to flip us over so I am on top. She comes at me with her knees and elbows, and manages to get a foot up and kick me off her. I land on my back and my head hits the hard ground in stead of the mat with a loud thud. I barely hear Imogen approaching me with the ringing in my ears. I look up in time to see her foot coming for my face, barely rolling out of the way in time. Her eyes flare with anger as I get away and am able to get back on my feet. I need to end this fast. The knock to my head has definitely given me a mild concussion paired with the knee to the nose I received earlier. If she gets another good hit on me I’m done. I need to win this to get her off my back.

She screams and runs at me with all she’s got. I can use her anger against her. She won’t be thinking straight. I plant one of my legs between hers, duck under her arms and use my ground foot to pivot around her locking my arms around her neck in a choke hold and locking both her legs between mine. My extra weight throws her off and we land on the mat with her on top of me, but I manage to hold on.

She claws at my arms and tries to kick her legs out. It takes all my energy to keep her locked in place. But slowly I feel her become weaker and weaker. Around the mat others yell for her to fight back and yield. If she’s anything like me, she wont yield. This is personal. After another minute her arms fall away and she passes out in my arms. I don’t even hear Emetterio call the end of the fight due to the ringing in my ears. But I know its done. I push her weight off me and do my best to sit up.

I look to my right and see Imogen coming to on the mat next to me covered in blood from where I got her in the nose earlier in the fight. We just stare at each other for a few second before she nods her head at me. Once we’re both healed and recovered I’ll have to find her and talk to her. A few other second years come and help her up and lead her towards the doors, most likely to the healers quadrant.

I go to stand but a big pair of arms wrap around me and pick me up as if I weigh nothing. I don’t even have to look up to see who it is as their familiar scent invades my senses despite my nose feeling like it should no longer work. I look up into Garrick’s hazel eyes as he walks with me bridal style in his arms out the doors and towards the healers quadrant.

Part 6

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #garrick tavis x reader #the empyrean #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #garrick tavis imagine

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: dark! Sirius Black x fem! Reader

Warnings: obsessive behavior, yandere themes, stalking, blackmail(?), toxic behavior, oc as reader’s best friend but it’s really brief

A/n: it’s Friday 13th so here have some dark content. Im really into mood for yandere content, so there will be more💖

You thanked every possible goddess and greater mind existing as you stomped out of your detention, feeling positively angry and exhausted. You were hungry due to skipping today’s dinner, your arms hurt from continuous polishing of old Hogwarts armours, your head was buzzing with heavy thoughts only adding to your sour mood.

You’ve always liked professor Flitwick - him not only being a head of your house, but an excellent teacher and great person in general only made your respect towards him grow bigger with every day. But detentions with him were pure nightmare - meticulous and boring work, caused, in your case, by you being late with handing in your charms homework on time for nth time.

It was already past midnight and the only thing you wanted was to get into your warm cosy bed, hide under your fluffy blanket and black out for the rest of the night, getting well-deserved sleep.

You were making your way hurriedly down the dark Hogwarts halls, that looked strangely hostile and unwelcoming in a silver moonlight pouring in through numerous paned windows. You couldn’t help but constantly look behind, not being able to shrug off a feeling of being closely watched, just to find no one around, as expected in such a late hour.

Just a bit. Just a bit more and you’d be in the safety of Ravenclaw common room, welcomed by dying fire and fluorescent stars glued to the ceiling by generations of ravenclaws.

And just as you let your guard down, you felt a pair of strong hands grabbing you by your shoulders, turning you around swiftly so that your back was pressed tightly against a cold stone wall of a castle, your throat constricting in fright, not allowing a single sound to escape your lips.

And there he was, standing in front of you in all of his beauty - hogwarts playboy and your personal nightmare - Sirius Orion Black. He was grinning his usual, perfectly practiced, smile down at your shrinking form, and even despite recognizing the person cornering you your whole body only tensed impossibly more.

- Lovely to see you here, Y/n, - black-haired purred mere inches apart from your face, his dark eyes, glistening in a dim moonlight, were ogling you like a predator getting ready to pounce on an innocent lamb.

- Don’t act as if you weren’t stalking me all this time, you creep, - you spat out, anger mixed with revulsion and fear was bubbling underneath your skin. Black tutted at your bitter words, one hand coming to caress the side of your face with his knuckles, all wounded and rough from constant fights he was picking up. You seemed to regain a little control over your own body, your hands coming to boy’s broad chest in an attempt to push him off, but to no avail - Sirius didn’t budge, but only came closer, caging your smaller body under his towering height.

- Now, now, my dearest. Words can hurt, you know? - black-haired uttered in feigned offence, jutting his lips out like an upset child, but you knew better than all of that. You struggled against him once more, but fruitless - your muscles were too tired and weak after long hours or physical work, and Sirius was simply way bigger and stronger than you.

- What do you want from me, Black? - you inquired exasperatedly, voice seething with poison.

Sirius’ perfect eyebrows furrowed up a bit, an expression of fake hurt dissolving quickly and you could see that your question really did surprise him. The hand that was previously tenderly stroking your cheek stopped in its tracks. You could see anger brooding in his amethyst eyes, mad at you using his last name despite him asking you multiple times to refer to him with his first name instead.

- What do you mean? Y/n, we haven’t seen each other the whole day, all of our classes were separate, and this bloody detention of yours! Of course I’m here to see you, what else does it look like? - Sirius said all of that with such fierce, that you knew this time he was really offended by your question, as if the logic behind all of his actions was dead obvious.

- And I don’t want to see you. Leave. Me. Alone, - you seethed at him, sharply accentuating your last words with long pauses, looking him straight in the eyes.

You watched as Sirius’ jaw clenching tightly. The hand retrieved from your cheek, balling into a heavy fist; a moment later it hit on a stone wall mere centimeters next to your head with a dull thump, strength of the impact making cold stone of the wall behind you vibrate slightly. You jolted harshly at that, inhaling sharply through your nose; you didn’t dare to blink, too afraid to let your eyes off this, this animal - ferocious and insane, driven by his instincts and emotions only, and you were trapped right inside his claws.

A moment of silence stretched uncomfortably, with Sirius glaring down at your shrinking form and you trying your best not to break under the pressure of his heavy gaze.

- It’s her, isn’t it? That bitch Lena. She’s turning you against me, putting all that bullshit in your head? - Sirius’ chest thrummed with dry humorless chuckle, his eyes colder than ice.

You felt as if ground was swept right from beneath your feet, your chest swelling with sticky horror. No, not her. Not your best friend. Sirius was purely insane, deeply delusional in every aspect of you. He’ll simply kill her. Or injure her so badly, her chances to live would be near to zero. And he had more than enough money, influence and wit to make it seem as if he never had to do anything with such a ‘terrible accident’. You already knew that, after that Hufflepuff boy that obviously fancied you went missing one day, Sirius’ knuckles raw with fresh cuts and bruises.

- N-no, Sirius, wait, - you stammered out, hands instinctively flying up to rest on his shoulders, his muscles tense under your touch. Your mind was racing with a speed of sound as you tried to find a way out of this horrible situation, to keep Lena and yourself safe.

Sirius was watching you with his scrutinizing cold eyes, fury etched on his sharp features. You felt your eyes sting with tears of panic as you stammered out squeaky:

- S-She al-lways approved of y-you, Siri. Always, - you saw his stony expression crack slightly after hearing you use the nickname, your body shuddering intensely, panic was making it hard to breathe. It was a straight up lie - Lena saw right through Sirius’ insanity, warning you to stay as far as possible from him. But that didn’t matter, you’d do anything just to keep your best friend safe.

Sirius’ fist unclenched, coming to cradle your nape; expecting expression etched on his face encouraged you to go further.

- I… I was just playing. R-really, how could you eat that, huh? - you sputter out hastily, stumbling over your words and forcing a chuckle out, it came out way too tense to sound natural. But Sirius seemed to follow through everything you’ve said as soon as next words left your trembling lips:

- Of course I’m glad to see you.

His lips stretched in a wide grin, so brilliant it seemed to lighten up a thick darkness of a hall. His thumb came to rub small circles into the skin of your jaw; his other hand that was previously propping Sirius’ heavy body next to a wall came to rest on you waist, drawing you in until your bodies were pressed tightly against each other, you could feel heat radiating off of black-haired even despite numerous layers of clothing.

- You little minx, really got me here, - he murmured softly, eyes fixated upon your face. It took everything in you to force a smile onto your lips, your hands were trembling ferociously, still laying upon boy’s broad shoulders.

Sirius ducked down, rubbing your noses affectionately before sealing his lips with yours, his eyes fluttering closed, lost in euphoria, meanwhile you couldn’t bring yourself to even blink, watching his every move with great caution. His hand resting on the back of your head felt extremely heavy and a strong scent of his undoubtedly expensive cologne made you nauseous - it felt like you could pass out at any moment.

Sirius broke away shortly after, leaving a last small peck on your numb lips. It was the first time he went as far as actually kissing you, and you were terrified to even think of how long it’d take until he tries anything more heated than pressing his lips against yours for a few long seconds. Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

- Siri, I’m really tired. Detention was pure hell and I need some sleep, - you uttered quietly, his shoulders slumping slightly in disappointment underneath your palms, but he nodded his head in agreement.

- Yeah, right. Let’s get you to bed then, princess? - Black said with a cheeky grin stretching his soft (now you knew) lips. His hands left your body just to grab one of your hands into his, intertwining your fingers together, leading his way up to the Ravenclaw tower.

Making it up the spiral staircase and uttering a right answer to the metal raven upon heavy door, you looked up at Sirius just to find him already beaming down at you. His free hand came to cup your jaw, bringing your face closer to his - hot lips pressed to your forehead, leaving a chaste kiss on your unnaturally cold skin. He broke away rather reluctantly, winking down at you:

- Sleep tight, sweetness. See you tomorrow, - and with that you departed, slamming a heavy door shut behind you.

Standing in a huge circular room crammed with countless books and parchments, with welcoming fire cracking joyfully and fluorescent stars twinkling down at you - you felt utterly and wholly petrified. Cold sweat was seeping through the soft cotton of your uniform shirt on your back, heart pummeling at the huge surge of adrenaline running through your veins, knees trembling ferociously, struggling to keep your body up.

And it was only now that the realization fully sank in, realization of how deep you got yourself into trouble in your desperate attempt to ensure your best friend’s safety, now seeing absolutely no way out of Sirius’ tight clutches.

Part 2🖤

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated - feedback inspires writers on creating even more content for you💖

#sirius black #dark!sirius black #yandere sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #harry potter #harry potter writing #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders yandere #yandere harry potter #yandere x you #yandere x reader #marauders era #dark!harry potter

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

'Til Death Do Us Part║ ⓛⓘⓜⓘⓣⓔⓓ ⓢⓔⓡⓘⓔⓢ

| 'Til Death Do Us Part | fourth and final part of the Whistle in the Dark limited series ║ series masterlist ║ main masterlist ║ | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x married!fem!OC

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT:  20.2k 👀 | CONTENT: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, deranged Horny Demon Hours shit, cuckolding!, erotic gore, feticide/miscarriage, acts of service: extreme mode, bodily fluids in places they shouldn’t be, torture, brutality, inappropriate use of handheld tools, mental manipulation through violence, menstruation-centered erotic acts, cumplay?, kidnapping, the vibe of the pottery wheel scene from Ghost except violent, discussions of verbal/emotional/physical abuse, so much blood from multiple people, bloodplay, lots of things with a knife, WHAT!TOWN?!Joel

| SYNOPSIS: The tangled web of Matthew's deceit and manipulation have ensnared you and crafted a dismal end.

Please be aware that this installment in particular might be potentially triggering for SA/DV survivors who have dealt with the legal system and its many, many failings for the most vulnerable populations. Please read with care. 💜

You hear the dull rumblings of voices. The cadences vary from deep to soft to rushed and even some hazy amalgamation of all those things. Your head is pounding. Everything sounds like you’re underwater. Your lungs hurt like you’re underwater, too, like you’ve been submerged too long and haven’t taken a proper breath in ages. You’re stiff. You’re sore.

You’re alive.

The voices are becoming clearer - or maybe just louder - as they try to speak over one another. You can make out the sound of someone’s pitched, anxious whispering before a flurry of responses – 

“ —don’t give a flyin’ FUCK what any of ‘em hafta say.” “—protocol that can’t just be ignored.” “—obviously not what’s goin’ on here, Joel.”

Your head is throbbing with indecision over whether or not you want to try moving a limb. You manage a twitch of your fingers on your nondominant hand. That goes okay, so you chance some movement from the wrist up. Instant stiffness and discomfort. You whimper. The voices continue.

“—takin’ the law into your own hands–”

“—fuckin’ makeshift town at the end of the world. Ain’t no fuckin’ laws anymore, Tommy.”

“—always been a weak spot for you, Joel.”

The overhead lights sear your vision when you finally work up the strength to open your eyes. The blinding rush acts as some sort of sensory accelerant, a deluge of sensations hitting you from all sides at once now. Almost all of it is painful and prickling. Your eyes snap shut. You’re hyper aware of the fabric laying against your skin, rubbing and gritting against you even though you are still. The dull, tired thrum of your heart beats in time to some lost song. The escalating volume and tension of the argument happening at the end of your bed – what you assume is a bed, anyway – makes your head feel worse. 

Sound comes easier and clearer from one side of your head, the side that Matthew didn’t pummel.

Matthew.

Nebulous recollections leap into your consciousness, sharp and clear. The memory of him striking you makes you jerk. His taunts, his promises of your death and possibly his own if things didn’t go his way…

Matthew was going to kill you and then probably himself, all while Joel watched. The stimulus to cry comes over you, but no tears come. Exhaustion won’t allow it.

You hear a voice directly above you. “Baby?” It’s Joel, but he sounds off. He sounds worried. But Joel didn’t worry. That wasn’t like him. He just handled whatever came his way and moved on. This antsy, apprehensive voice belonged to a different Joel.

The sticky accumulation of grime and dried spit made it hard to move your mouth to respond. You wince at something wet and warm being gently dabbed against your lips.

“Hold still, honey. Just a minute now,” he soothes.

You peel your eyes open with immense effort and wait for the blurred shapes to come into focus. 

Tommy. Maria. Joel.

Hushed, sniping whispers shoot back and forth. You blink away the haze and take in your surroundings. It looks like the clinic. If you had any energy left for humor, you’d laugh at the irony of it all. The last time you were here was when you and Joel were treated for injuries you sustained on patrol together. It was the same day you’d walked home after being patched up only to discover Matthew and Natalie together in your bed. Your thoughts turn to ruminations of how this could’ve been avoided if you’d just told everyone the truth about Matthew right then and there. Maybe none of this would’ve happened. Maybe you wouldn’t have put people’s lives in danger.

“M’sorry,” you wheeze. It hurts to talk. You wonder how long you’ve been out.

“Don’t you dare,” Joel warns, stern and unwavering.

“Take it easy,” Maria calmly suggests. You aren’t sure if she means you or Joel. Probably both.

“Been through the wringer,” Tommy adds quietly. “No need to push yourself too much.”

You move your moistened lips back and forth a few times to prime yourself for speaking. “Where is he?”

The room is quiet as if they were all hoping it would take longer for you to arrive at that question.

“He can’t hurt you,” Joel insists. “Locked up. Can’t hurt nobody. Not anymore.”

“He’s being held at the correctional center until a clear narrative of what happened can be established,” Maria supplies, sounding almost clumsy in her terse delivery.

“He-He came into—was too fast–couldn’t–”

Your explanation is cut off with a cough. Your mouth is scratchy and dry. Joel helps you to sit up straighter, drawing a hissing groan of pain from you, and tilts a cup of what you assume is water onto your lips. You gently sip in small increments.

“How long?” Your voice is thick with sleep and pain.

“Been here a few days is all,” Tommy answers. “Been comin’ and goin’ but mostly just sleepin’. Got you some medicine onboard to help with it all. Been worried. ‘Specially this one.” He juts his chin towards Joel, who scowls in their general direction.

You’d grimace if you could stand the discomfort of it. You’d roped Joel into your bullshit just like you’d dreaded. Your mind warpspeed shifts to Ellie. Ellie. You startle in your weakened state. Joel seems to understand.

“She’s okay. Knew somethin’ was up before she even made it through the door. Smart kid.”

A heavy sigh of relief escapes you. With the situation as dire as it had been - and still is - Matthew only managing to harm you was the best case scenario. You maintain a neutral face as Joel fills in the blank spots in your memory. How Ellie had come back home to gather some clothes for her sleepover. How she’d felt something was off when she sensed the unnatural stillness of the house. How she spotted Matthew hovering over your unconscious body and thought he’d killed you.

Your heart wrenches at the thought of her seeing you like that. Ellie didn’t deserve this. She didn’t ask for this. You’d brought pain onto her and Joel both. As Joel recounts how she’d run to Tommy’s for help, your lungs feel like they’ve shrunk. Apparently Matthew had been taken by surprise at her appearance, forgetting that she even lived there.

Leaders in the community spoke with Tommy. Spoke with Ellie. Even spoke with Joel and Natalie’s dad, after it came to light that Joel had sparked something in this entire collapse. Matthew had scrambled like a coward once Ellie outpaced him and went running for help. He was apprehended within the hour, and you were whisked away to the clinic even sooner.

Ellie showing up to get those clothes had probably saved your life. Your stomach gnaws and shreds itself with that piece of knowledge. This is exactly the sort of thing you’d wanted to avoid, and here you’d put so many through so much unnecessary hurt in such a short span of time.

Your stomach only felt all the more gutted as you listened to Tommy and Maria explain that interviews had been going on all while you’d been unconscious and Matthew had been in a retaining cell. Several of Matthew’s “conquests” had heard of all the news with his newly pregnant partner and the inappropriate conduct with a minor. They’d been called upon to share their testimony as to whether or not Matthew had ever suggested or carried out violent and abusive behavior towards them. They all truthfully attested that he had never been anything of the sort.

Joel shot Maria a nasty look when she volunteered the information about a few of them floating the idea that you had probably injured yourself and somehow lured Matthew to talk with you so that you could claim he’d done all this damage to you.

An idea that you were so desperate for revenge and to ruin his life that you would concoct an elaborate sort of story where such a thing would’ve happened. It was just the natural outflow of the groundwork he’d laid over the weeks about how you were supposedly physically aggressive, how you’d put hands on him before, how you weren’t the same person behind closed doors, how he’d finally put his foot down and left you.

It wasn’t just the town gossip Angelica that had been feasting on the morsels of lies that Matthew had been steadily feeding to sources that were sure to pass along such salacious information. Unfortunately for you, Matthew had always been a manipulative smooth talker, always ten steps ahead of you. He’d been setting the stage for this sort of situation, smart enough to assume at least a few of his past lover’s responses to the questions would lean towards this bastardization of events. So before anyone had even testified yet, he’d already fed the story to the leadership council. He fabricated some story about how you’d asked him to talk, and he felt sorry enough for you to agree to it.

Joel tries to shut the conversation down when he sees the tears brimming along your lashline, but you shake your head and insist on hearing it all. You have to know what you’re up against, and as Maria continues, you realize just how much of a monster you’re facing.

As it stands, his account of events is the sole firsthand statement on the situation, and it’s just as pernicious and artful as you would anticipate from a man like him. By his version of things, you’d begged him to talk to him, and he’d pitied you enough to oblige, meeting at Joel’s house as planned. When he came upstairs to find you, he discovered your intentional, self-inflicted injuries along with an already disrupted room, all meant to signal a struggle had taken place. You’d taunted him for walking right into your trap, insisting that Joel would be home soon and would react to protect you once he saw the scene you’d created. You’d laughed in his face about Joel fighting for your honor, willing to kill to protect you. All of it an elaborate ruse you’d arranged just so you could physically assault him and threaten his life. 

He’d enacted just enough self-defense to prevent you from fatally attacking him, avoiding your blows whenever possible because he didn’t want to fight back and hurt you somehow in the process even though it would’ve been in his right to do so. Ellie’s surprise appearance was “an intervention from the Lord above,” or so he’d thought at the time. When she discovered him standing calmly over your unmoving body, he realized she’d fallen right into your plan as well, running off thinking he’d been the perpetrator in all of this. Fearing that she was running to find Joel and bring him back to the house - just what your masterplan had been all along - he’d fled.

He didn’t deny the large kitchen knife he’d had on his person in the house, claiming he’d gone to grab it at some point when he’d finally managed to subdue your attacks. It was the only self-defense he had if you woke up and started attacking him again. His entire narrative was one of self-defense, of fearing for his life, of fleeing on foot once he feared either Joel or his brother Tommy were going to return with Ellie and retaliate for the perceived attack.

You feel frozen to the spot as you listen. The icy sense of dread crept through your veins as it all sunk in.

The boxes from unpacking had been strewn about and a mess as you’d tried to work through them. Coupled with the upturned items in the bedroom, it presented a space in disarray.  It backed up his version of events.

His body was riddled with defensive wounds from his fight with Natalie’s dad. Even with the word from John that he had in fact had a physical altercation with Matthew, it made it impossible to determine when and where his injuries had been sustained since no one else had seen Matthew between that encounter and his encounter with you. It backed up his version of events.

For all the ways he’d wronged you, he’d shown love and tenderness to a constellation of lovers, all of whom had truthfully testified that he had never once laid a hand on them, been verbally aggressive, or shown a hint of a temper. It backed up his version of events.

Your history of coming from a violent upbringing, of how you’d grown up in a world where it was normalized, was perhaps the source of your “continuation of that cycle” simply because “you’d never known anything else.” It was a particularly cold-hearted blow, and it backed up his version of events.

The knife in his hand, the weapon for his own protection if he were put in a dire spot because of your insistence on physically assaulting him, could’ve easily been used to murder you. But he didn’t. He’d had plenty of time to do it if that had been his intent, so why was he instead just “hanging around”? Why, if he had gone there to assault and murder you, hadn’t he just done it? It backed up his version of events.

He was not striking you, harming you, or aggressively engaging with you in any way when Ellie came home. She’d only seen him calmly waiting with your unconscious form. Her insistence that “it obviously didn’t seem right” fell on deaf ears. She’d only been telling the truth when she testified that she didn’t personally witness any attacks from either party.  It backed up his version of events.

With a “beautiful baby on the way” and the path to “finally making decisions for a better life,” the legitimacy of his motive was questionable at best. You on the other hand had been left “bitter and jilted” by his decision to break things off and move on with someone else. He had everything to live for, everything going for him. You’d lost everything and been “left behind.” It backed up his version of events.

Each intricate, sinister lie entwined delicately into the next, so well explained and proactively contradicting to your version of events - the truth. Each fictitious strand clung to the next until a tapestry of deception had been woven, blanketing any hope you’d ever have in refuting each of the claims. He’d gotten ahead of the narrative, all because you were drifting in and out of consciousness from the battered state he’d put you into, no less.

He’d already won. He’d already won, and you hadn’t even had a chance to speak a word of truth.

The strict orders from medical staff to “take it slow” were laughable. A handful of residents were calling for your own stint in a retaining cell until all the investigation had been completed. That handful grew over the next several days while the council continued gathering all the information about the situation, getting witness accounts starting from when you got back from the patrol trip. It was a lot of information to go through and determine what was true and what wasn’t, what was embellished or glossed over.

You never strayed from the truth when you gave your piece to the Council, but it felt like it didn’t even matter. It had already been whittled down to a “he said, she said” situation. You wanted so badly to keep the faith that Council was simply doing their due diligence in getting all the facts prior to making such a huge decision as whether or not Matthew would be asked to leave Jackson…. or perhaps you. After you’d been placed on house arrest in lieu of a retaining cell - thanks to Maria’s shrewd intervention - you knew you’d truly lost.

It didn’t matter that Maria had convinced them – lied on your behalf —  that you weren’t medically stable enough for the holding cells and would require frequent medical supervision. It didn’t matter that she’d gently coached  you on the importance of delivering your official testimony without the visual of Joel next to you. It didn’t matter how she’d pressed the importance of not reacting to anything too abruptly unless you wanted to paint yourself as the violent, volatile assailant that Matthew had claimed you were.

None of it mattered. You’d been abused for so long. You’d been through hell with Matthew. You’d lost so much. He humiliated you. He beat you. He intended to take your life that day. And yet, here you were, sat in the same room with said man who looked deceptively forlorn and stressed. You had to watch and calculate every action and reaction of yours today so that you were a believable victim, a credible picture of a woman wronged, the embodiment of the innocent hostage to an opportunistic man. Nevermind the fact that the man in question had nearly killed you and would attempt it again if given the right opportunity and was only a glance away from you this very moment.

There wasn't a large number of people present for the hearings. The town Council. Founding residents. Longtime respected pillars within the community. All were called upon to hear your official testimonies of your version of events. Matthew went first. He tucked his body into itself, looking smaller and more unsure. He didn’t look at you. You couldn’t look away.

“I-I was trying to do the right thing, is wh-what I thought. Ya know, talk to her even though I knew she wasn’t too happy about me ending our relationship,” he sniffs pathetically. “I just.. I didn’t think, even after all she’d done to me, I didn’t think she’d do this. I mean, the whole set up. Framing me? Trying to trap me into a place where I’d lose everything because - I don’t even know -  I guess that’s what she felt I’d done to her?”

He shakes his head and laughs humorlessly at his hands that he fidgets back and forth nonstop. All a carefully curated and executed display from a master manipulator.

“I’m not gonna sit here and say I’m proud for all my actions. I know messing around with somebody who’s close to 18 doesn’t mean they’re an adult yet. She was the only one I’d ever — I never went after somebody just because they were younger. It was a stupid, stupid decision. I was just– I was just so lonely.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, mouth opening and closing like he can’t quite believe things had “gone this far.” When he shifts in his seat, you notice several others in the room readjust their own posture, maybe out of discomfort or maybe just subconsciously mirroring Matthew’s body language. You keep your teeth clamped together to stop from worrying your lip so hard it bleeds.

“After all the constant verbal takedowns and abuse from her—” he glances your direction for only a moment, just long enough for others to follow his line of sight and see he is talking about you, to you “—I was just broken. I-I wasn’t even myself anymore. I started making choices that aren’t me. I started getting with any woman who’d have my company. I was desperate for it. Desperate for anything other than the hell that was waiting for me at home.”

He shakes his head again, producing big tears to gather and fall down his face. He hitches his breath and sniffs louder now.

“I made bad choices, and I own up to those. But the idea that after finally being man enough to leave that type of situation…. To finally make a home and start a family with somebody who loves me and cares for me… It just doesn’t make sense. Why would I throw all that away? What, because she was with someone else? Of course not!” he laughs in that same humorless way again.

“I just only hoped he wasn’t gonna get it bad like I did all those years. I hoped and prayed she’d find peace with him - with anyone. If she could find some peace, maybe she wouldn’t need to do all of that, you know? To find whatever it is that she’s looking for, because god knows I’m not it.”

He pauses to wipe the palm of his hand roughly against his cheeks to clear away his tears. “I wished for so long to be able to be the guy to help her. I didn’t know why I wasn’t enough, I just knew that I never was.” He hangs his head in his hands for a moment before looking upward as though seeking divine guidance. 

“I just ask that the council please take into consideration her upbringing. The day I met her, she was getting beat to death by her own damn flesh and bone. Her father and brother were set to kill her. Can you even imagine that? That type of evil? How can someone coming from that know any better? She needs help. She doesn’t need to be kicked out of this place. I know what she’s done is horrible, but please, if there’s anything that can be done to-to, I don’t know- to rehabilitate her or therapy or something. Please don’t send her out those gates to die. Please. I may have decided to break things off with her, but I still care for that woman so deeply. Please.”

You feel close to retching. He’s made a strong case for himself all while casting a shadow of doubt and fault in your direction. You can feel the eyes of every Jackson resident called to attend the hearing falling squarely on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at them anymore. What if you don’t convey the right emotion? What if your efforts to not empty the contents of your stomach onto the floor right now somehow read as guilt or remorse? What if your nerves and body language and facial expression and sounds and posture are interpreted as some admission of wrongdoing?

You can’t stare at your hands any longer if you want to avoid appearing like you’re hanging your head in defeat or regret or fault, so you settle for pushing through the queasiness and scanning the faces of the Council in front of you. A few faces remain stony or neutral, but just as many if not more have softened or, worse, looked away from Matthew at the discomfort of seeing a grown man weeping so openly. If it isn’t seen as an authentic act, that would have to mean he was some brutal, manipulative monster to fake such a moving display of grief and pain - a monster they’d allowed to live right under their noses this whole entire time. Admitting that’s who he really was would be in part admitting their own fault at not keeping Jackson safe.

The lie is working.

Midday break is called, and the air in the room feels like every particle of oxygen is dampened and weighted with the inevitability of your downfall. Matthew was going to walk away from this situation unscathed, and then he was going to kill you. 

You just have to sit and wait for him to kill you. 

The tremble in your hands is such that you can’t get a firm enough grip on the doorknob to get into the private adjunct room where you’d be spending break. Ellie reaches around you and turns it quickly, giving you a gentle nudge inside with Joel following closely behind. The door is no sooner shut than you double over a bin and start heaving. Joel doesn’t make a face or comment on the odor. He just helps you get straightened up before taking out the soiled container. The smell of your ruination lingers as you collapse into a nearby chair and break into sobs.

Joel returns with food you can’t imagine stomaching and water you reluctantly sip. He doesn’t speak, just pulls you close against him.

“He’s gonna kill me, Joel,” you shake out. “They believe him. He’s gonna walk away from this, and then he’s gonna kill me.” The last few words dissipate into a hitched octave, full of fear and defeat.

“No he ain’t,” Joel corrects sternly. You can only shake your head and cry, at a loss for words in this surreal situation.

“They can’t actually be buying that story!” Ellie argues. “Nobody would believe that shit! Right, Joel?”

When Joel doesn’t rush to corroborate her assessment, Ellie seems to deflate a bit. “You-you’re not serious. People think he’s innocent?”

Her tone of comprehensive disbelief is as fitting now as ever. You can’t believe this is happening, but at the same time you also know deep down this was always the only way this would go.

“We know the truth, Ellie,” Joel sighs. “People are weak. If there’s anything I’ve learned in my life, it’s that you can’t count on people to do the right thing.” He finally pulls back to look at you. Your face crumples when you catch his apologetic expression. He’s as powerless in this situation as you are.

“But what about all those times she saved your life on patrol? And taking up for everybody’s shifts and covering people’s asses? How the fuck is that a bad person? Somebody that would plan something awful like that? Like, what? There’s no fucking way!” she sputters.

You blink unfocused at the floor, unsure of what to say or do. You want to comfort Ellie, but you don’t want to lie or get her hopes up. You know how this story ends.

“I don’t even give a shit if you did do something bad to him. Fuck it! I don’t believe him. I believe you. And he deserves every bit of what he gets, and then some!” Ellie asserts in a passionate appeal.

Despite everything, you smile to yourself. Ellie and Joel might not be blood, but they are certainly family in the way that it counts. And these two staunch supporters were in your corner, so you must be doing at least one thing right.

Joel cups your face in his hands and directs your attention to him, all  fiery eyes and steely expression. “No one is going to hurt you. He’s not going to hurt you.”

He says it with such firmness and conviction, you want to believe him. You brush away the fat tears slipping down the curve of your cheek. It’s silent again in the room, and Joel goes back to just sitting with you and holding you. He’s quiet and a little detached. It’s probably for the best. If he starts distancing himself now, it might make it easier on everyone when this too good to be true dynamic comes to an end.

The end of break comes and goes without anyone arriving to collect you for the afternoon session. Ellie points it out, the first person to speak in what seems like forever. Just as Joel starts to get up to see what the delay is, Tommy scoots into the room. He gives you a sympathetic, curt bow of his head and glances at Joel.

“Listen, I think there’s some funny business goin’ on with Matthew. I don’t know exactly what the hold up is, but I’ve seen a few of the higher ups come and go outta his room.”

“What the fuck is that s’posed’ta–” Joel starts as the door opens again.

Maria and another Council member squeeze into the ever shrinking room. It’s one of the members who had looked away while Matthew forced himself to cry. The air feels thinner with all the crowding and news of Matthew’s odd behavior. Somehow you still hold enough space for worry that they will be able to smell the remnants of your vomit from earlier.

“Alright, folks, sorry for the delay. Looks like we’re gonna pick up tomorrow morning from where we left off today. The, uh, other party isn’t in much condition right now to carry on, so we’re gonna adjourn for right now,” the Council member explains.

You don’t even have to turn to Joel to know his nostrils are flared and fists clenched. No one says anything, and the palpable tension in the room hangs awkwardly in the space.

“He put forth a request for additional time to collect himself after the ‘emotionally draining’ testimony that was given this morning. Given his disposition we all saw and the fact that it’s not our intent to put anyone into a position of distress during this process, Council has granted his request on a one-time basis,” Maria adds.

You bite back a scathing remark. You have been nothing but distressed. You just didn’t have the luxury of letting your emotions run wild lest you portray yourself as some volatile, unstable person - the type of person who would do all the things Matthew has charged you with. You can’t afford the negative attention that a big show of emotion would likely garner, so you just do all that you can: keep it calm and keep it moving.

You wish that you’d been able to get the first word. You wish you’d been able to get ahead of the narrative so that it benefited you - benefitted the truth. You wish that you could also be seen as brave and raw and moving if you cried in front of everyone. But Matthew had got the drop on you and delivered his “authentic devastation” to a panel of sympathetic ears. His inability to control his emotions was not a point of instability or weakness in their consideration like it might be if the roles were reversed.

Maria catches your eye. Her frown morphs into a tight lipped line, like she wants to say something to you but can’t. She looks at Joel for a moment before focusing on her counterpart.

Tommy clears his throat to dispel some of the charged climate. “Alright. Thanks for lettin’ us know. You need any help gettin’ him back to the retainer, Cliff?”

The Council member shakes his head. “Appreciate you offering, but I think they got it handled. He’s pretty out of sorts at the moment. Don’t think it’ll be much trouble getting him back.”

Tommy nods an acknowledgment and turns to Maria. “I’ll see to it she gets back to the house.” He tips his head your direction. Maria gives a quick thanks and heads out behind the other Council member, giving a tepid, short goodbye.

The walk back to Joel’s house is a disjointed, hazy blur. You’re inside, although you don’t have a clear notion of when that happened. Joel helps you out of your jacket as you stare blankly ahead. You hear Tommy murmur something to Joel that sounds something like “she alright?”

“Hey.” Joel’s voice is grounding and firm. You blink a few times and lock eyes. He’s grasping your arms like he’s holding you up. He might be. You’re not entirely sure at the moment. Every ounce of energy has been zapped from you. It all feels like a waking nightmare.

Low words are exchanged, and Ellie leaves the three of you in the kitchen. You settle clumsily into one of the chairs at the table and rest your head in your propped up arms. Joel and Tommy continue a conversation you drift in and out of.

“Considering he’s goin’ back to a retaining cell, there’s not a whole lotta reason people are gonna find to assume he’s just fakin’ it all. Ain’t the most lavish of places ‘n all that. Council meeting space is a lot more comfortable than that, so ya can’t say he’d be in some big rush to get back there,” Tommy reasons.

“Piece of shit just wants everybody to sit with his bullshit statements from this mornin’. Sleep on it and get his lies all embedded in their heads,” Joel scoffs.

“I don’t doubt that,” Tommy agrees gently. “I’m just sayin’ that you gotta keep in mind how things look, is all.”

“Are they going to ask me about his testimony?” you rasp.

The two brothers turn to you in sync. Joel is the first to pull a chair up next to yours. Tommy opts to stand at the end of the table with one hand mindlessly picking at the tablecloth.

“What do you mean, honey?” Joel asks softly.

“He talked about stuff. Today. And if I’m supposed to… defend myself, or whatever, I just– I want to know what sort of questions they’re going to ask me,” you explain.

Tommy and Joel exchange a look. You lick your dry lips and force the words out.

“Am I– Do I have to talk about my–about my dad and brother?” you choke out in a whisper.

Tommy scratches the back of his neck and looks away in much the same way as others had done to Matthew this morning when the discomfiting outpouring was too much. “I, uh, I reckon they might wanna follow up on some of what he shared, yeah. To get your side of things.” His expression pinches into an uncomfortable frown.

Your face falls when he confirms what you already knew: you were going to have to speak publicly on the most horrendous times in your life, and for no reason other than Matthew had purposefully brought it into the fold. You wrap your arms around yourself and rest your forehead against the table as you begin to cry for the millionth time today.

A strong hand from either side rests on your shoulder and back. Joel rubs small circles while Tommy gives a supportive squeeze. The tears flow freely as your fate comes into the clear. You were never going to be able to pull off being more believable than Matthew. You were never going to be able to remain composed enough to make it through this. Matthew was going to win, and then he was going to kill you.

“We’re gonna figure somethin’ out. I promise you that,” Joel vows.

“I can have Maria come by later to get a better idea of what we’re workin’ with exactly come tomorrow mornin’,” Tommy adds.

Joel pulls you against his side and wraps his arms around you. “Do you trust me?”

You blubber that you do, but it’s a mess of tears and snot as you try to explain that you’ve underestimated Matthew too many times to not have learned your lesson by now.

“Not this time,” Joel disagrees. “We’re gonna stay a step ahead of him. No matter what.”

You let him herd you into the bedroom that he’s completely rearranged so you’re not reminded of what happened here not that long ago. You’re sure Matthew prides himself on leaving you with that particular mental scar, the sacred comfort of you and Joel’s shared bedroom now tainted with memories of one of the scariest moments of your life. Joel had offered to move you both into the guest bedroom across the hall, but you declined. It felt like giving in, giving Matthew another win.

Now you aren’t so sure it really matters.

You settle into the cold bed, trying your best to focus on the scent of Joel on the sheets, and let your eyes flutter shut when he presses small kisses to your temple before going back downstairs to talk with Tommy.

The mellow sunlight filtering through the window suggests you slept longer than intended. Your muscles are sore. Your movements are stiff. How long had you been asleep? The whole hearing process must’ve truly exhausted you. Surely Joel would’ve woken you up if Maria had already arrived.

The smell of eggs wafting up the stairs leads you to the curious sight of breakfast on the table. Panic sets in once you register that you not only slept through the afternoon and the entire night, but you’d also missed Maria’s visit and advice. You hadn’t prepped at all. Joel assures you he’s got it covered and asks you to just take a breath and eat something.

You aren’t sure you can eat, but he coaxes you into some bites. He looks exhausted, like he hasn’t slept. He promises you that he talked with Tommy and Maria and feels confident he can lead you in the right direction. You have no choice but to trust him. Ellie stays home today at Joel’s request. You ask how he managed that given how passionate she was yesterday. He shrugs and gives a noncommittal answer. You don’t press him. In all truth, you’re grateful that she won’t be present for today’s proceedings.

Prying eyes follow your every step to the Council building on Main Street. You refuse to meet any of them. You’re ushered by a standoffish attendant into the same small room where you sat for break yesterday and wait to be called into the main room.

You mention to Joel how odd the attendant was acting. He agrees but doesn’t seem all that surprised. Just as you’re getting the sense that Joel isn’t saying everything on his mind, the same Council member from yesterday enters the room.

“Cliff,” Joel greets curtly.

Cliff nods back in lieu of social niceties. “So it seems that Matthew was going through something more than we realized. We have reason to believe that, uh, that he has left Jackson indefinitely.”

Your shock propels you out of your seat. “What?!”

Joel stands quickly beside you and echoes your disbelief. “Who the hell let him leave?!” he thunders.

Cliff puts his hands up, palm side out, as if to allay the sudden uproar. “We’re gathering information as quickly as we can. We were alerted just this morning about all of this.”

“He tried to fuckin’ MURDER HER, and you’re tellin’ me you don’t know where he is?!” Joel bellows at a slowly cowering Cliff.

“We are doing everything within our power to sort this out, and I assure you that you aren’t the only one who is invested in getting to the bottom of this!” Cliff asserts with a put-on bravado.

“How do you know he left? Who let him past the gates? Who saw him?” Joel demands, rounding on Cliff.

“I’m not able to answer every single question you have, Joel,” he sputters. “I already told you this is a fast developing situation, and we’ve only just started piecing things together. It’s best if everyone just keeps a level head, alright?”

Joel doesn’t look much satisfied with Cliff’s offerings. “Keep a level head? KEEP A LEVEL HEAD?”

“Joel!” Maria barks through the door as she rushes in and shuts it behind her. “Enough! You’re so loud I can hear you down the hall!”

“What kinda establishment you got here, huh? Fuckin’ would be murderers just waltzin’ outta their cells as they please and nobody is any the wiser?” he spits.

You wrap a hand around Joel’s arm, and it thankfully seems to calm him a little.

“Joel, she just brought the letter to us a few hours ago. We’re trying to keep a hold of the situation, and you going off isn’t helping,” she chides.

“What letter? Who?” you choke out. You cling to Joel’s arm to steady yourself as the realization that Matthew has escaped starts to sink in.

Maria’s face softens as she turns to you. “Rachel. Rachel Harmon. She discovered a letter on their kitchen table early this morning. It was addressed to her with a portion written to the Council.

“The dipshit stupid enough to get knocked up by that psychopath?” Joel snips.

You give his arm a gentle squeeze. He glances down at you. You give a small shake of your head. Not now. He understands and chews the inside of his cheek against his molars.

Maria shuts her eyes and sighs, exercising some self-control in the charge of Joel’s anger. “His pregnant partner, yes,” she firmly corrects. Her eyes shift back to you. “I know it has been a difficult process, but if you could look at the letter and possibly verify whether it is his handwriting…”

“You manage to fuck up the VERY SIMPLE TASK of not letting a fuckin’ wannabe murderer escape, and now you’re askin’ his latest victim to help you? I don’t fuckin’ think so!” Joel thunders. He puts himself between you and the others.

“With all due respect, Joel, that’s not your decision to make,” Maria snips back in the same level tone as before.

“I’ll look at it,” you agree. Everyone turns to look at you as you stand there, shaking and trying to hold it together. “I can tell you if it’s his or not.”

“No. The reason Rachel can’t verify his handwriting — the fuckin’ father of her baby — is because Rachel doesn’t fuckin’ know him. Nobody does in the entire godforsaken place,” he finishes with a scowl thrown towards Maria and Cliff. “She knows him better than anybody – and she’s been tryna tell y’all the truth about him – but y’all wanna play this pretend court of law bullshit where there’s supposedly some kinda due process. As if she didn’t end up black and blue from that prick. Y’all seemed to forget all about that with his little waterworks yesterday, huh?”

Cliff looks appropriately chastised. Maria fixes Joel with a stern frown. “If you’re done showing your ass, we have work to do.”

You tug at Joel to get his attention. His angry face meets yours and deciphers the resignation written into every frown and troubled wrinkle.

He huffs and glares at Cliff and Maria. “Bring the letter.”

Cliff volunteers himself to fetch the letter, probably in an effort to excuse himself from Joel’s wrath. Maria holds steady and suggests everyone take a seat and take a breather. You slump into the chair. Your adrenaline is shot. Your mind feels like all the crucial cogs have hit a rut and won’t turn the gears. All the backup machinery of your mind is trying to keep up with things well beyond its capacity. When Cliff returns with the letter, it takes a moment to focus on the document placed before you. Your eyes adjust to read its contents.

𝚁𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚕,

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠" 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎. 𝚆𝚎’𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎, 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜.

𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜. 𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑.

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚠

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜. 𝙰𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛, 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗.

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎.

𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚠

Your stomach bottoms out as you scan the lines of text. “That’s his writing,” you confirm with a feeble shake of your head. You can’t understand how he escaped or why. It didn’t make any sense. This wasn’t like him. Your tongue feels thick and heavy as you try to find the words to express these concerns.

“Doesn’t explain how he managed to escape,” Joel clips.

“We believe his, uh, emotional difficulties yesterday were enough of a distraction to the attendants that they didn’t notice him taking the key off them,” Cliff explains with a notable pink flush on his cheeks.

“So you got swindled, and now a murderer is on the loose?” Joel sneers.

“Joel, if you can’t keep it civil, then I’m going to have to ask Tommy to see you out of here,” Maria warns.

“You want to keep things civil, but you can’t even keep one asshole in a cell?” he bites back. “You’re tellin’ me nobody noticed he was gone in the middle of the night? How in the fuck did that happen, huh? Somebody sleepin’ on the job?”

Cliff adjusts in his seat and sits a little taller. The rosy flush morphs into a deep red and spreads down his neck. “He, uh, he arranged his bedding to look like—”

“You gotta be shittin’ me,” Joel snorts in disbelief. “He bundled up some blankets to look like a body? Like in the fuckin’ movies? And you fell for it?”

Cliff clears his throat and can’t quite meet you or Joel’s eye. Maria huffs, clearly exasperated by Joel’s condescending ire.

“Sounds real fuckin’ convenient, doesn’t it? That he managed all this by himself?” Joel challenges in a low, dangerous voice.

“Watch it, Joel,” Maria cautions. “If you’re suggesting there’s some sort of foul play or outside help, you’re dead wrong, and I’d be careful going around making such bold, suggestive claims.”

Joel laughs without a trace of amusement and sits back in his chair, crossing his arms. Maria’s jaw clenches tight with annoyance. Joel had told you before how his and Maria’s relationship was rocky at best, and this entire situation was just oxygen to a flame. You respected Maria greatly, but it felt good to have Joel stick up for you so fiercely.

“We’re done here. Until y’all get your shit together, don’t come botherin’ her. I’m walkin’ her home, and I’m gettin’ a rifle from the patrol station. You have my word if that asshole shows up, I’m shootin’ him dead on the spot.” Joel’s nostrils flare, hands slamming onto the table as he abruptly stands.

Much to your surprise, neither Cliff nor Maria take him to task on any of it.

“Come on, honey. Let’s go home,” Joel says softly to you, extending his hand for you to take.

True to his word, Joel obtained a firearm and made no attempt to downplay his intent to use it if necessary. He kept by your side, gun ready at all times, as the days pressed on. Tommy stopped by a few times a day, sometimes with updates and sometimes with nothing. By the time day three rolled around, you hadn’t learned anything that made sense of the ordeal.

Matthew had managed to steal his cell key from an attendant, leave his cell with a decoy blanket body in place, get into his and Rachel’s house to write and leave the letter, sneak into reserves and stables to gather up supplies and a horse, and, perhaps most daring of all, getting past the main gates. All without being seen or caught.

It wasn’t that he was incapable of such deceit. It’s that he left when he was already winning. That’s what bothered you the most. He was winning, and Matthew would never forfeit an opportunity to get the best of you and put you in your place. When you’d mentioned this to Joel and even Tommy, neither seemed too concerned with this crucial piece of the puzzle. Joel himself had said that you knew Matthew better than anybody, and it was starting to wear on you that even he wasn’t taking your concerns seriously. He insisted you just needed to keep a low profile and rest. Your pure exhaustion meant you didn’t put up much of a fight to his insistence.

Rachel gave her account to the Council regarding her and Matthew’s previous discussions around leaving Jackson. She tearfully recounted the few times he had spoken to her about “needing to get out of town in a hurry,” but she “never thought he meant like this.” You believed he’d had these talks with her, but not in the context of starting a new life somewhere else. You knew with every fiber of your being that he had spoken about leaving Jackson in a rush in reference to murdering you and either taking himself out with you or fleeing before facing the consequences, whichever came to be the right choice at the time.

It was coming up on five days since Matthew left. You provided your testimony yet again to the Council but didn’t share anything you hadn’t already. It was just under 15 minutes when they’d called everyone back into the room to announce you were considered absolved of any potential wrongdoings as it was impossible to confidently confirm which party had committed what actions. You were given a stern warning that any “untoward behavior” would result in immediate cause for dismissal from Jackson. You agreed to the terms, knowing that you had never been and never would be a problem.

Despite your partial exoneration, it felt like a hollow victory. You still fret to Joel about when Matthew returns and in what capacity. You’re worrying yourself sick with the looming fear of his return. If he was able to evade watchful eyes and escape, he was more than capable of getting back inside the settlement and doing god knows what. What if he didn’t find anything out there? What if he decides to come back and stay? What if he changes his mind and insists that you should be made to leave Jackson instead of him?

You sleep to get away from reality, but your dreams are plagued with nightmares of Matthew above you, choking the life out of you. You can hardly eat. Joel seems so calm somehow. You don’t know how he manages it. It might just be a show of strength to make you feel safer, but all it’s done is make you feel more frustrated. Why doesn’t he seem concerned? Why doesn’t he have the same energy about “staying one step ahead of Matthew” that was so fiery just a short time ago? A week out from your gift of grace from Council, you can’t take it any longer. Matthew has been gone for almost two weeks, and you want to tear your hair out.

“Why don’t you listen to me?” you whisper. Talking any louder guarantees you will break into a fit of tears. You’re afraid. You’re sleep deprived despite sleeping almost constantly. You’re hurt that Joel seems so detached and unbothered from the situation.

Joel’s head snaps up from his task. He frowns in confusion. “What do you mean, honey?” He sets his things aside and moves towards you. 

You take a step away and hug yourself, shaking your head. “I-I keep telling you that something isn’t right, but you don’t seem bothered at all. I feel—I feel so alone, Joel.” So much for not crying. The hot pinch in your eyes spills over as you bury your head in your hands. 

Joel is quick to snatch you up into a tight embrace. “No, baby. You’re not alone. You’re not alone.” 

He rocks you side to side and shushes you. You can’t shake the feeling that he isn’t on the same page as you. A sickening thought tears through your mind, one you hadn’t felt since that day when Matthew gave his testimony.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “Are you… Do you want me to go?” Your eyes go wide in dismay. Of course. You’ve been so distracted with everything going on that you didn’t even stop to consider the obvious: Joel wants out. This is too much for him. Too much for Ellie. This isn’t what he signed up for, playing personal bodyguard to you 24/7. He wants his life back. You can’t even blame him. Why would he choose this? Why would he choose you?

You’ve already accepted it before Joel can reply. You feel completely numb. Matthew was right. All those times he tried to tell you that no one would want you, and you decided to believe otherwise.

“What?” Joel scoffs. “What the hell? No, I don’t want you to leave! What the hell are you— Why on earth would you—” He shakes his head like he’s offended you’d even suggest such a thing. He’s gobsmacked into silence as he searches your face for some sort of clarity.

“But you—you’ve been so distant with all this Matthew stuff. A-And I just, I know it’s too much–I’m too much, and—” You ramble and try to control the flood of tears cascading down your face and neck.

“No. No, honey,” he says flatly. He shakes his head again like he can’t understand how you’d come to that conclusion. He sits you on the couch and pushes himself between your legs. He cradles your face so that you’re eye to eye with each other.

“I’m in love with you,” he states with conviction. Not a hint of reluctance or hesitation is in his voice. You can’t understand it.

“What?” you choke.

“I said I’m in love with you. I love you. It scares the hell outta me, but I do. I love you. I don’t want you to leave, not ever,” he continues. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead to yours.

“You? You love me?” you repeat.

He nods firmly a few times and pulls back to look at you. “Yeah. I do. I really, really do.”

“I–Joel—” you break. “I-I love you, too, Joel. I love you so much. I’ve loved you for so much time now. It’s been so much time, Joel. I never said it. I thought I was going to die before I could tell you—thought he was going to kill me before I could—”

Joel cuts you off with a deep, biting kiss. Your breath comes ragged and frantic with the reciprocal admission and overwrought nerves. You can’t stop crying, and you’re not even sure you know why you’re crying or what you’re crying about at this point. Everything has come to a bottleneck, and there’s no stopping the outpouring  deluge.

Joel draws back for a moment to catch his breath. He considers you with a contemplative gaze for a moment before speaking. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied that I wasn’t pickin’ up on how alone I was makin’ you feel.”

You swallow and ask a question you aren’t sure you want the answer to. “What’s b-been keeping your attention?”

Joel’s lips form a thin line. He holds your searching eye and finally nods. “I haven’t been honest with you. Been waitin’ until it was the right time. I guess now is the right time.”

Your mouth turns down at the vague explanation. “Joel, I don’t know what—”

“Tonight,” he interrupts. He sounds resolute, like he’s finally decided on something. “Tonight I’m gonna show you. Get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to sleep after all of that, but you try anyway.

You’re quiet as the horse carries you and Joel through the dense wooded areas outside the settlement. You’d exited through the cover of a passage at the edge of the barrier you didn’t even know existed, but you didn’t ask questions. You just sat quietly and waited to see what Joel was going to show you, what the answer to all your questions was going to be.

The moonlight slipped through the branches, the dapple of a dull glow lighting the path forward, wherever that may be. You hug close against Joel and rest your head on his shoulder as the horse meanders further, past the dam, past the typical patrol points. You hold on tighter at his instruction when he turns off into a steep, obscured ravine. It levels off at the bottom, and you’re beginning to wonder just how far into the outlands this clandestine destination is. Joel slows the horse to an ambling gait and veers into an overgrown pocket of woods.

“This is it,” he announces calmly as he dismounts. He assists you off the horse, and guides it into a concealed alcove already housing three other horses. The only indication that this is even frequented by travelers is a dug-out firepit some several yards away. You start to ask where you’re going now when he points out the telltale edge and turn of a man made structure in the compact stretch of greenery and woodlands. You’re almost a stone’s throw from the camouflaged house before you recognize it, hidden in the distance to anyone not already familiar. He holds firm onto your hand as if you’re one surprise away from being scared off completely. He guides you through the entrance of the house after brushing aside well-placed bits of facade and coverings.

You have a million and one questions, and a singular unknown has been halfway answered when your eyes adjust to the dimly lit interior. Two of the horses must belong to Tommy and Natalie’s father, John, who each sit on aging furniture in what you think was once a sort of living space. They offer a quick greeting, one that you’re too flummoxed to return. They don’t seem surprised at your unannounced arrival. You realize Joel must’ve already looped them in. You know it’s all in due time, but it’s difficult to not grow impatient and nervous as to when exactly all your questions will be answered.

“I’ll holler if we need anythin’,” Joel informs the pair before grabbing a flashlight from a crooked end table and leading you down a dark hallway to the left. He stops in the middle of it, checks over his shoulder that you’re out of earshot, and runs his eyes lazily over your features. “You doin’ okay?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I guess I’m alright. Just sort of feel, I dunno–” You aren’t sure why you’re whispering, but it feels appropriate for conversation in the mysterious, dark hallway of the secret, hidden house. “I trust you – I do – but I’m just getting more and more nervous with every—”

Joel grazes his thumb across your bottom lip. “You don’t need to feel nervous, pretty girl. Not anymore. Never again. I told you I got you, and I do. So now I’m gonna show you, okay? Can you let me do that? Just hold on for a little bit longer for me?”

You swallow down your fear and concede to his plea. “Yes. Okay. I can. I mean, I will.” A deep, grounding breath, and then, “ I’m ready. I trust you.”

Joel shoots you a lopsided grin. “There’s my girl. Pretty thing.” He leans down to give you a quick kiss, and you chase his lips when he draws back. “Plenty of time for that soon enough.”

He walks you to the end of the hallway and stops short of the solid paneled wall. He runs his hand down the edge of the decorative molding, stopping on some unseen point and pressing into it until a soft click sound is heard on the other side of the wall. “Hold onto my shoulder on the way down, okay? Don’t want you fallin’.” He nudges the bottom of the wall, and the entirety of it swings forward, revealing a small opening and staircase.

“Ready?”

Your eyes go a little wide, jaw a little slack, but you just nod and grab onto his jacket as you both descend into the murky space. You duck your head a few times whenever Joel does. He’s clearly been here many, many times to be so well-acquainted with every low hanging beam and jutted bit of framing. You reach the bottom and pause again. He raises a hand to the side, flicking some other out of sight thing, and a camping lantern washes light over the room.

The damp air fits the visual of the area, but it lacks the musk of an unused space. Evidence of human movement and activity are visible here and there despite it being mostly bare. “Hidden basement? Was it always here? This has always been here, or–?”

“Yeah. Came up on it by surprise a long time ago now. The work of some doomsdayer, probably. Took us a long time to find it. Got real good use out of it lately, too.”

You scan the room for some indication of what he could mean. A long folding table lines one wall, filled with random supplies and curiosities. Odd pieces of furniture are scattered here and there. A closed door leading to who knows what. Rolled work blankets, tarps, and crates lie in organized piles.

“Is it some secret outpost or something?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Joel fiddles with your hand in his. Buying himself some time before–

“Why’d you bring me down here?”

He continues across the space with you and hesitates outside the closed door near the back of the basement. He waits until you meet his gaze before saying anything. “Listen to me good now. We’re gonna go in there, and I need you to promise me if you need to get outta there you’ll say somethin’. No judgment from anybody if you do, alright?” His stare could bore holes into your head with the intensity of it.

“O-Okay,” you agree. You don’t know what’s inside that would potentially be too much for you, but you know he wouldn’t mention it if he didn’t think you needed the preemptive permission of an out. He nods, searches your face with an inscrutable look, and leans down into a soft kiss. He slots his mouth against yours in a slow rhythm, siphoning the jittery anticipation from you with each pass and pull of his tongue against yours. Your weight slowly gives way to his clutch, and you give and give and give your anxieties over until you feel significantly calmer.

He pulls away, appears content with your pacified demeanor, and rests his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ve got you, honey. Just remember that.”

 He eases the door open, pushing it wide so you can see inside without having to enter. There’s already a few sources of light, but Joel flips something that powers a long row of bulbs. Matthew’s panicked eyes lock onto yours, a frenzied recognition taking over, and he strains against the rope bandings that hold him in place. He’s bound to a chair in much the same way as the first time Joel tied him up during your first time together. His muffled pleas and screams aren’t entirely intelligible past the wad of fabric shoved in his mouth. You let out a soft gasp at the sight of him, a little roughed up but mostly just looking terrified.

“This hopefully clears up why I wasn’t seemin’ too concerned with whether or not he was comin’ back to Jackson,” he supplies quietly.

“You-You mean…” You glance up at him, dumbfounded and at a loss for words.

He nods his head and watches you carefully, searching for some sort of upset or anger or disgust at seeing your ex-husband being held captive and worse for wear.

“But that day at the meeting! You were-You were so upset! You… was it all…..” You struggle to verbalize a logical train of thought. Joel had been pretending to be just as in the dark as you actually had been all this time. An apologetic frown pulls at the corners of his mouth.

“After that first day of the hearing, I knew we couldn’t count on those people to do the right thing. I told you I was gonna protect you. Keep you safe. I already failed you once. I wasn’t gonna fail you again.” He fixes you with a soft, remorseful look.

“Joel,” you choke. “You-You went and–after it— but, how?”

He takes a deep breath and steadies himself like he’s been waiting to finally tell you the truth, to impart this secret he’s been keeping from you for your own good. “He’s pissed off enough of the guys in Jackson that finding a few helping hands wasn’t too grand of a task,” comes his simple explanation. He glances over to Matthew with a look of pure disdain. “Had a few that owed me a major favor. Knocked his dumb ass out and took him out the back. Tommy already took the supplies, and I met him with the horse at the back passage. John lugged him on the horse here.”

You blink slowly, trying to absorb all this new information and connect it to what you already knew - or thought you already knew. You’re in such a state of shock that you don’t catch Matthew’s increasingly desperate, stifled calls for help. Joel rolls his eyes and shuts the door so the conversation can proceed in peace. 

“But the letter,” you sputter. “How?”

Joel looks at the ground and knocks the toe of his boot against it a few times before looking back at you. “Might be for the best if we don’t get into that.”

“No, Joel,” you say with a tremble. “I want to know. I deserve to know.”

He shakes his head in agreement and reaches out for your hand, which you readily place in his. He hesitates a few times before speaking. “I- I  don’t want you to be- I don’t want you to be afraid of me, honey.” His head lists back and forth, his eyes locked on where your hands are clasped together. “Done some bad things in my life. Not proud of all of it, but not really too sorry for it, either. I just… don’t want you thinkin’ I’m somebody you gotta be afraid of.”

With what seems to be a great amount of effort, he looks at you again. You hold his stare, a steady and unconditional hope and confidence meeting his look of insecurity. “I trust you,” you remind him firmly. You gather his hands together in yours and press them against your heart. “I trust you more than anything. I trust you with my life. I’m not afraid of you.”

He wavers for a moment before steeling himself. “I threatened to hurt Rachel and the baby. That’s how I got him to write that letter,” he admits. “Had to get him to talk, and quick, and I knew threatenin’ that would get him to write whatever I told him to.”

Your brow pinches together in an unasked question: how could you leverage something against him that he doesn’t actually care about?

“Yeah, it’s a little more’n what it sounds like. I–” he pauses for a beat before starting again, once more sounding uncertain of himself “–I don’t want you to see me different, when I tell you. Don’t think I could take you feelin’ scared of me or scared that I’d do anything to you – ever.”

You could understand his reluctance to bare these dark parts of himself. You’d spent most of your life in the long shadow of fear, the torrents of violence delivered by the mouths and hands of men you should’ve been able to trust. It was all too predictable that Joel would just become another perpetrator in the long line that existed before him, fitting into the established pattern. 

Except Joel wasn’t like anyone you’d ever known, was unlike any man you’d shared space with. He jumped the circuit that had been assigned to you - the circular loop of pain and fear - and became the break in the sequence. The disruptor of the inevitable. The arm that links to yours instead of bending it backward until compliance is yielded. Joel had decided that the cycle of your suffering stopped here, and god help anyone who got in his way.

“Scared? Of you? Joel, the only thing that scares me is whether or not I can ever be for you what you’ve been for me.” The words slip out gently, like they aren’t all sharp edges patched together with threads of hope. He moves to cut the conversation from its trajectory, but you press on before he can stop your moment of timid confession. “I don’t want pieces of you, Joel. I want it all. Just like you say you want all of me. So– I’m asking you to-to trust me with the truth, the way I trust you with the truth.” You level a firm, probing gaze and watch as his reservations abate.

“I’m not stupid, Joel. I-I know what him being here– I know what it means.” You straighten taller, pushing and pressing yourself to show the faith you have in yourself and in Joel - in the two of you. “I know that he’s– I know he’s not going to-to live. I know he’s not going to survive this. He’s not going to walk out of here.”

“That ain’t up to anyone but you,” he corrects. Before you can ask what he could possibly mean, he clarifies. “Told ‘em it wasn’t anybody’s decision ‘bout what happens to him but yours. Weren’t too happy with me about it. Wanted to kill him the first night – especially John – but ain’t nothin’ gonna happen that you don’t want to happen.”

The weight of his words settles slowly, a viscid cloud that ripples and sweeps through you. Matthew’s far off, muted cries for help are the only sound other than the pounding pulse in your ears. He took your life and bent it to his will, and now he was at your mercy. His fate lies in the palm of your hand because Joel stopped others from taking that decision from you. Because Matthew had hurt you more than anyone. Because Matthew had taken the most from you, wanted to take everything from you, it should be you to decide what happens.

Because Joel wanted to give you something you’d never had before: the power to dictate your life.

Your lip quivers with the comprehension of it, the magnitude of the gift he’d gently laid at your feet, as if it weren’t the most profound gesture anyone had ever bestowed you. Your lungs pull for the inhale that will balloon your chest against the constricting cage of your ribs. You have to get it together. You have to let him know he can tell you anything, can tell you everything, all without the fear that it will be too much and be the reason you walk away.

“Because you love me.” It’s not a question. It’s an answer. An explanation of why this man in front of you would do all of this.

“Because I love you,” he echoes. His lips press into a tight line. Consideration. Resolution. And then–

“I said I would—” He falters again, searching your face for the fear he so dreads will take hold and fester in you, the fear of what he is capable of, even if it’s done with the intent to shield you from harm. You give his hand an encouraging squeeze. “I told him I’d  drag her here, blow her brains out, and rip his kid from her stomach. Make him hold it until it didn’t move anymore. Kill off the future of him if he didn’t write what I told him to.”

You gulp back a gasp. “A-And would you have…? You would’ve done that?”

“Didn’t need to,” he replies instantly, skirting the question.

You press his hand firmer against your chest. “Would you have done that, Joel?”

“Yeah,” he finally admits. “If it meant gettin’ Matthew away from you, if it meant protectin’ you, then yeah, I would’ve.”

You gently nod, swallowing down the ebbing jolt of his confession, and bring his palms against your cheeks. You pivot to kiss them each in turn before looking up at him. “These hands are for– they’re for loving me. And protecting me.” You tilt towards him to emphasize your belief. His shoulders sag with relief, your sanction of his ill deeds loosening the tight nieve of guilt around him.

“And I know whatever happens in there–” an aside glance back at the door and back to Joel “–it’ll be okay. I’ll be okay, because you’re with me.”

He gives you a pointed nod and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I got you. I’ve always got you from here on out. I need you to understand, honey.”

“I do. I understand.”

 “Then let’s get to it, sweet girl.” 

With that, he opens the door again and drags in a heavy blanket from the other side of the basement. The distinct clink and clatter of metal can be heard even through the thick fabric. He motions for you to follow him into the room and close the door. You push it shut and watch as he hauls a cushioned chair from the corner of Matthew’s room and sets it up a few feet away from him, dead center.

 Matthew’s eyes dart wildly between the two of you. You jump at the unexpected slap Joel lands against Matthew’s head. “Shut. The fuck. Up.” Matthew quiets down instantly and stills. “I’m gonna tell you this one time: do not speak unless spoken to. You will listen to her. You will answer whatever question she has. You will not lie to her. If you lie to her or start gettin’ outta line, I will gladly set you straight.”

He rips the fabric gag from Matthew’s mouth and throws it on the floor. His breathing is audible and strained without the obstruction. Joel wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you down onto his lap, sitting in the armchair he’d arranged directly across from Matthew.

He leans forward, hugging you against him. I’m here. You’re not alone. Take the power you should’ve always had. Get answers to the questions you deserve to have answered. His hands splay wide across your chest and belly, an anchor to him. He runs his nose along your neck and hairline,  presses his lips gently against your ear. “Go on. I’ve got you.”

Matthew has been sitting silently as instructed, waiting on your permission to engage. Something turbulent and mirthful stirs in your gut. You can feel it spreading through you like a beast intent on carnage. It takes a few moments to recognize the feeling for what it is: power. The expression “drunk on power” finally made sense. The feeling of confidence, strength, and command makes your head buzz. It occurs to you that while this is your first time wielding such authority, it is likely Matthew’s first time experiencing the other side of things, not having any control over what’s going to happen next.

“How do you feel?”

Your question catches them both off guard, although Joel doesn’t show his surprise other than tensing for a split second underneath you. Matthew’s eyes squeeze shut, his frown deepening as he shakes his head side to side. He takes your line of questioning as a sign of possible mercy – all that understanding and patience you’ve been leached of your entire life.

“I’m fucking scared!” he croaks. His voice sounds weak and tired. “Every time they come down here I don’t know if it’s gonna be the time they kill me! Please just tell them to let me go! I’ll fucking go, I will! You’ll never see me again, I swear it.” He leans as far forward in his chair as he can manage, his desperation for your leniency coming off him in spates.

“What about Rachel? And the baby?”

Again, they both show their surprise at your choice of question. Matthew’s face flashes an answer before he can speak: what about them? Of course. Why should he care about the woman he’d impregnated out of spite? She was nothing more than collateral in this entire thing. His rooted seed in her belly nothing more than a guarantee of his lineage, a point of ego.

He works his expression into more of the calculated veneer he’s perfected over the years. “I-If you would– Listen, of course I care about them both, of course I want to take care of them both—”

You don’t bother listening to the rest. His words slacken to a halt as you turn your head towards Joel. “He’s lying to me, and you told him not to,” you say softly. Something eager and electric sparks in his eyes. “Yeah, I think he is, baby. I don’t like that one bit. What do you think?”

Matthew stutters but keeps himself from speaking, rightfully afraid of Joel’s correction.

You rest your hands atop his where he cradles you against him. “Do you remember in the cabin when you told me not to feel bad when bad people get what they deserve?”

He holds back a smirk. “I do.”

“Do you remember what I told you I liked seeing and wanted to see again?”

He doesn’t downplay the depraved grin spreading across his face. “I think I do, but I sure would love if you reminded me anyway.”

You turn to face Matthew and swallow down the delight at his anxious urgency to understand what is happening. Your expression is cold, unfeeling. “I liked it when you cried, Matthew, and I like it when Joel makes you cry—” you turn to Joel again, whose face has darkened and acidified, the drip of a lethal edge pooling at the verge  “—so, I want you to do it again. I want you to make him cry, Joel. Make him cry for me.”

His smile is infectious. “Thought you’d never ask.” When he tilts you closer to his face and kisses you gently, it’s your turn to be surprised. “I love you.” A tender reminder, something free in the way he says it now that it’s already been said before. Like he wants to say it as many times as he can. Like you’ll understand how much he means it the more you hear him say it.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back.

You both ignore Matthew’s break in protocol as he rushes to explain his sincerity. Joel is in no hurry, knowing that his leisure only works Matthew into more of a frenzy. He walks calmly to the blanket he’d brought in earlier, unwraps it,  and studies the contents for a moment. Opting to forgo anything in the selection, he saunters over to an ever distraught Matthew. The glint of a small blade from Joel’s back pocket catches the light.

“NO NO NO,” Matthew starts chanting, an octave higher reached with every utterance.

You flinch when Joel swings his arm up, barely stopping the momentum of it in enough time for the sharp edge of the blade to tamp directly against Matthew’s cheek. The room is quiet again. A slip of crimson trickles between the bulge of his flesh and the blade. His jaw trembles with the effort of keeping still so as to not deepen the cut.

“The only reason you ain’t laid out and bein’ beat to death right now is because of her, so I suggest you count your fuckin’ lucky stars that she’s the one callin’ the shots,” Joel growls. His fingertips are white from where he grips the hilt of the blade so tight you can practically see the itch to drive it further in.

Matthew’s eyes lock onto your face. Like the rabbit whose leg has been snapped in steel teeth, he feels the walls closing in around him. Something about your presence makes this all the more real somehow, you think. You drop your gaze, suddenly feeling uncertain if you only liked the idea of Matthew suffering and might not be fit to actually witness it. As if sensing your thoughts, Joel flicks the blade closed and returns it to his pocket.

“Now listen real close,” he drawls. Matthew’s face pouches out in little pockets of flesh between Joel’s stretched fingers where they grip his skull. The dig of Joel’s thumb into the new sliced divide of flesh triggers a string of pained gasps. “My girl wants to see you cry, so you’re gonna give her some tears. If ya can’t squeeze ‘em out during some heartfelt somethin’ or other, I’ll just hafta think of somethin’ to motivate ya.” 

Joel watches you from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to take the lead when you’re ready. He senses your uncertainty at commanding the situation just yet and continues.  A fractured cry pierces the air as Joel wedges his finger deeper into the cut. “Lucky for me, I’m feelin’ real creative today.” 

Matthew shakes his head, although you’re not entirely sure which part of it he disagrees with. Joel doesn’t seem to notice or care and continues on. “So how about you start bein’ honest and start from day one. I wanna hear all the fuckin’ mistakes you made and all the shit you took for granted. And god help you if ya start lyin’ or fakin’ some crocodile tears.”

You find Matthew’s eyes again, settled with a defeated acceptance, and he looks scared enough that you think he might actually just tell the truth for once.

“W-When we met– the first time we met–” he sputters. He squeezes his eyes shut like he’s closing himself off from his current predicament, as if he can separate himself from the lies he’s told and his obligation to now recount the story in truth rather than through his lens of manipulation. “When I saw you, I just– I did think they were raiders. Your dad and brother. I did. But. I just thought– I knew I could catch them off guard and take them both out. I just–”

His eyes slip towards Joel, a mistake warranting censure. Joel grips his head in one hand and forces his focus towards you again. “You’re tellin’ her, not me. So keep your eyes on her when you’re talkin’.”

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to kill you, too, or see if maybe you could be useful to me in some way,” Matthew confesses in a bungled rush of words.

“What do you mean?” You swallow down a sick feeling and aren’t sure you want to know the answer. He’d been a liar since the very beginning, and it took you so long to see it. You’d been such a fool for so fucking long. Knowing the extent and depth of the deception only magnified the hurt stemming from this level of betrayal.

“He means he kept you around for a warm, wet hole to stick his dick in,” Joel snarls.

“It wasn’t just that!” Matthew pleads. His eyes nearly slip back to Joel, but he recovers at the last moment. “I swear! If-If it was just that I could’ve just raped you! You were already so beat down it wouldn’t have been hard!”

Your stomach sinks hearing him share this alternate version of events, something so perverse from what you’d always remembered it as. “Am I supposed to be flattered by that, Matthew?” Your voice breaks ever so slightly. You hate showing weakness, especially under the circumstances.

At least Matthew looks appropriately chastened. “I’m telling you the truth! You said you wanted the truth, and I’m doing that! PLEASE!” His lip trembles with unfettered panic. “Maybe I wasn’t some-some knight in shining armor like I had you believe, b-but if I didn’t actually want you I would’ve just dumped you sooner! You have to see that I’m telling the truth about that! I did like having you around!”

“Having me around for what?” you bite back. The look on Matthew’s face says Joel’s assertion about being a “warm, wet hole” wasn’t very far off. “So that’s really it then? Just somebody to use? Somebody to make you feel good? To be, I mean– to be, what? Forever in your debt? Someone who-who was so fucking–” you cut yourself off before the heat pinching in your eyes forms tears. You shake your head side to side to collect your resolve. “Someone who was so fucking grateful to be out of their situation that they wouldn’t even notice all the fucked up parts of their new one?”

Your voice has grown shaky and hoarse at the effort of holding back tears. Matthew’s face twists into something akin to an indignant sneer. “You can’t blame me for every little thing, you know. You didn’t have to follow me around like a lost puppy. You were plenty grown enough if you wanted to—”

The sneer morphs into a grotesque contortion of pain as Joel drives his knife straight into Matthew’s lower thigh and twists. The shocked scream erupting from him is almost as jarring as the brutal drive of the knife springing up blood through his pants.

“Let’s try that again,” Joel drawls. He yanks the blade from Matthew’s leg. The claret drips fall like a quiet rain against a window, and it makes you feel unfamiliar with yourself when you register the sort of calm it brings. The gentle pitter patter of rain against the pane. The soft spill of Matthew’s blood onto his clothes and the floor. Something contentious and changing, something ready to cleanse away the before. 

You sit up straight on the edge of the chair and grip the arms, looking on in revulsion and enthusiasm. The ire churning in your gut unfurls into licking flames of white heat. “A lost puppy you were more than happy to keep on a leash,” you warble back. The edges of your vision blur in equal, indignant fever. You shove yourself up from the chair, legs shaking with the surge of emotion you no longer attempt to subdue. Hot bands of wet splinter over your cheeks, a fit pair with the jagged breaths you pull in. “How many?” you snap. “How many women were you with after you told me you loved me and cared about me?”

Matthew’s mouth hangs open as if it awaits the strangled sob in his throat to dislodge itself soon. “PLEASE,” a gasp of a prayer for your mercy.

“Ain’t a quick learner, are ya?” Joel laughs to himself, calm as ever while he jabs the flat side of his hand directly against Matthew’s windpipe. 

He sputters and coughs before quickly choking out an answer. “I don’t–cough–I don’t know. I have to think!” He tilts his head back, his eyes chasing an answer along the ceiling somewhere. “I-I’m think–jesus christ I don’t know. It has to be….” He trails off with a small rocking motion as he tallies his indiscretions. “I think thirteen,” he finally decides.

“Can you even name them?” you challenge. He makes it through the first handful quickly, but his memory is hazy from when he’d finally given in to the practice of unabashed, serial infidelity. With a promise of “help” from Joel to remember the rest, Matthew manages to focus and list off names that amount to a grand total of seventeen. Seventeen others he’d sought out and prioritized over you, over his commitments and promises to you.

“Why?”

Matthew squeezes his eyes shut tight again in anticipation of the response to his truthful but less than palatable answer. 

“Because I could.”

He waits for the strike or the blade to come and peels his eyes open when it doesn’t. You can see Joel’s entire frame taut beside him, fuming at the gall and arrogance. You signal for Matthew to continue answering.

“I-I knew you’d never do anything about it. I knew you were too scared no one would want you. I knew you wouldn’t ever think of crossing me.”

A physical pain roosts in your chest. He was right. You never did anything about it - not until Natalie. Even after Natalie, you remained boxed in by your own fears of having to present yourself as enough for somebody else, as if anyone would want you. You’d never crossed Matthew because he was something rather than the terrifying prospect of nothing. But none of that mattered when he made you feel so alone anyway. It didn’t matter when he isolated you from even knowing yourself.

“Joel, can I have your knife please?”

His eyebrows shoot up, hands deftly placing the weapon in your open palm. “Gonna show me some techniques, baby?” His smile falls a little when he sees the fearfulness pulling at you again. “Or are you gonna let me join ya?”

“Together,” you agree.

Matthew thrashes in his bindings. Pitiful calls for you to just wait and hold on a minute fall on deaf ears. Joel kicks his chair to the ground and gives a hard push with his boot to position him onto his back. You motion towards the gag, which Joel shoves back into place. You brace yourself over Matthew’s feet and remove his shoes and socks. The sinew of his muscle flexes as he tries in vain to get away from you. Joel kneels behind you and steadies you in his arms. Matthew’s neck is craning, eyes bulged with horror, as he watches helplessly.

“Can you…..?” you trail off, not sure how to ask what you want to ask.

Joel follows your line of sight to the arch of Matthew’s foot. He holds you in the cradle of his arms, back to chest, as he places his hands over yours and the knife clutched there. “I’m right here. You go on ahead, sweet girl.”

He guides your hands forward, releasing his grasp on one side to hold Matthew’s foot in place, and you hold your breath as you both plunge the blade into the soft bend of Matthew’s foot. His screams become clearer through the bunched fabric in his mouth. Your stomach turns at the high pitched agony. Joel frames your body closer to his and talks close to your ear. “You’ve got it, honey. You’re doin’ it. I’m right here. You just keep goin’. I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you.”

The glittery silver disappears into reddening, wet flesh. Before you can pull it back out, Joel turns your wrist to the side and slows the extraction to a brutal crawl of blade against bone. Your hands shake as you enact the most ruthless savagery you’ve ever rendered. Joel’s hushed whispers of encouragement feel nauseating and thrilling. When the blade finally works its way out completely, you release a hard, shaky exhale.

Matthew is sobbing and writhing, his torment discernible even through his restraints and gag. Joel is unphased, passing praising kisses against your neck and cheeks. “Did so good. So proud of you.”

“I did okay?” you shake out.

He leans forward so you can see each other’s faces fully. “Did perfect, sweet girl. Perfect.”

You take a deep breath and center yourself. “Can you help me do it again?”

Joel grins, a sort of fervid vestige of a bedlamite, and says of course he’ll help you do it again and adds that he’ll help as many times as you want, baby. After you repeat the same measured, excruciating puncture on Matthew’s opposite foot, Joel asks a question you’ve only just decided the answer to. 

“How many times you wanna cut him, honey?” He nuzzles against your earlobe, ever patient and calming. You know if you said you wanted to stop all of this and just walk away, he’d do just that. It makes you want to do it even more.

“I-I think that, um,” you mumble hesitantly. You try to block out Matthew’s heaving shrieks. “I think that some smaller ones for the rest. I think, maybe, fifteen smaller ones should make it–”

“–seventeen,” Joel finishes with a sinister chuckle. “Knew I had me a clever one. You’re really somethin’ else, sweet girl.”

You almost chicken out as you start to feel ill inflicting your twisted punishment, a slice into his flesh for each time he strayed from you. Joel as always helps you through it and steadies the blade to create fifteen superficial but sizable slits across the expanse of Matthew’s body from bottom to top. By the final cut, his eyes are far off and fixed on a spot above your heads. Joel jerks the chair upright and wrenches him out of his dissociative escape.

“Wake up, prick,” he snaps. A smack of his palm against the side of Matthew’s head gets his eyes focused on you again. Somehow there’s still the resonance of hatred in his gaze, a burning, putrid animosity held for you. The vitriol that comes into the centrifuge of his sight on you makes goosebumps ripple over your skin.

What feels like hours has in reality only been minutes. The encumbrance of violence has tired you quickly, and you briefly wonder how on earth people can maintain rabid, cruel tendencies for years, even decades. How they aren’t shriveled into a heap after 5 minutes of it. Then you remember, some people thrive on it. For some, it’s the only thing that swells their blood. People like Matthew who can’t seem to stray far from it without it coming back tenfold in its consuming appetite for destruction.

Your stomach burns and clenches. This is not the path you are meant to travel. There’s something decidedly wrong about it all, and you wish you could focus more on Matthew finally getting what’s been a long time coming. Instead, you avert your eyes from his, away from the splinters of torn tissue you’d carved into him.

“Hey.” Joel’s soft voice calls you from your freefall. You look over to find him already watching you, carefully pinpointing each minutia of emotion you can’t keep from breaking through. “C’mere.”

You readily shrink into his middle, his arms coming up to cage you into him. A few deep breaths of him block out the heavy, stale air of the room that’s whirling with the metallic daub of fresh blood. You let him guide you to sit in the lounge chair in his lap. You slump against his warm, broad body. Your head lolls to the side. You feel like you could just shut down right now and sleep for four months straight.

“Lemme help you relax.” The words barely register until the paired action of his hand skimming underneath your waistband catches you up immediately. Your body tenses as you turn your head to look at him. A soft, playful smile graces his lips. His fingertips dip down lower. Your lids flutter closed. Why did this feel so good in such a gruesome environment? How did this feel so germane after all the atrocities you’d just committed against another human? Nevertheless, Joel’s touch is a calming weight, settling over you in an instant.

“Gonna take these off, honey.” The scratch of denim and cotton against your legs is the beginning of your body fully switching over into corporeal awareness instead of the tumultuous sea of your mind. A whiny choke gets caught in your throat when you feel Joel’s hands against your bare skin.

“I know, I know,” he soothes. He spreads your legs across his lap, knees hooked over his thighs. Your curiosity gets the better of you when you wonder what Matthew’s face looks like. 

Cold. Callous. His eyes keep flashing to the cradle of your thighs, spread and displayed.

“Messy baby,” Joel hums with a spark of humor. You aren’t sure what he means until you see the bright blood on his fingertips. “I like you messy,” he grunts, cupping your pussy against his palm. 

“Joel,” you start to protest. As you stare at the menstrual blood glistening on your inner thighs, you realize the gut cramping and sick feeling you’ve been experiencing over the past hour could only partially be blamed on all the torment you’d been inflicting on Matthew. 

“Knock it off,” he warns, sounding stern and resolute, when you squirm against him. You whimper and give in immediately. There’s not much fight left in you when it comes to Joel, not with all the pinpricking blooms of revenge taking to you so steadfastly. He groans against you as he sinks his fingers inside your entrance. His other hand has skirts underneath your top, toying lazily with your hardening buds.

“Gonna let him watch just like that first time,” he husks. His excitement is palpable against you, seeping into you like an osmotic, erogenous stimulant. You can feel him thick and ready beneath you. You lift yourself higher for his fingers to go deeper. He wordlessly complies and drinks in your feeble moan.

“God do you remember how fuckin’ smug he was that day? Now look at him.”

You heed his invitation and focus your hazy attention on Matthew. His eyes are glossy and bloodshot. His nose is dripping. There are patches of bright new blood and auburn, oxidizing blood all over his body. There’s a mixture of dried and fresh tears streaking his face.

“Pathetic piece of shit,” Joel laughs under his breath. He hooks his fingers into you and moves his hand back and forth in quick motions, his palm pressing firmly against your clit. Your legs clamp together reflexively, but Joel pries them back open. You pin the weight of your shoulders against his chest, arching up from where you sit in his lap.

“Give it to me. Come on, baby. I can feel it. You’re right there–yeah, come on–there you go.”

A white heat scorches through your lower belly just as you reach your peak. You’re a writhing mess against Joel, who holds you loosely against his chest. A warm pool of wet gathers on his hand and fingers, bright red mixed in with your slick. Your chest feels hot and prickly as you catch your breath. Already so awash in your afterglow, you list to the side where Joel props you gently against the back of the chair. 

The entire front of his pants are flecked in smudges of scarlet. He twists and turns his hand in the light, admiring the catch of it against the mixture of fluids. He smiles to himself, stands, and saunters to Matthew, whose eyes grow larger the closer Joel gets. Thick bright red blood coating his hand is all the more evident when he flexes it into a fist.

“Bet you thought so many times about seein’ blood pour outta her,” he muses in a dangerously calm voice. “Bet you wanted to be the one to make that happen. Crack her in the skull. Cut her open. Shoot her. Huh?”

Matthew is still as a statue. You find yourself hanging onto Joel’s every word as well, mesmerized and head crooked to the side to witness whatever was going to happen next. Dissatisfied with his question going unanswered, Joel takes his clean hand to grip around Matthew’s sweaty, grimy hair and yanks him to the side. “HM?”

“Yes!” Matthew coughs and begins to cry again. “Yes, I thought about it!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Joel's entire broad frame is rigid with fury. “You wanted her blood so bad, you can have it.” The high pitched impact of Joel’s drenched hand across Matthew’s cheek practically echoes in the enclosed space. Fresh tears carve a clean line through the smear of your blood on his face. Joel slaps him again. Again and again and so many times you lose count. His face is covered in you.

Matthew had wanted you dead. He’d wanted your blood on his hands. He felt that’s what you owed him. Joel saw to it that the “debt” was repaid, just not how Matthew had envisioned it. It was a due reward for what he’d craved, and it sent a surge of righteous anger through every nerve ending in your body. Joel pauses for a moment to check in on you.

You bend your head slowly in approval. “More,” you whisper.

The million kilowatt, manic grin that brightens Joel’s entire face makes you smile shyly in return. There was something akin to pride there, something that made him swell with it just from you taking control of the situation and taking ownership in this act of vengeance. He loosens some of the restraints binding Matthew to the chair and frees his arms and legs.

With every ounce of energy he has available, Matthew lunges at you, an ineffective movement with his injuries slowing him down. It’s a stumble and a longshot. You’re not even sure why he attempted it. Joel doesn’t look surprised in the slightest. In fact, he looks like he was hoping Matthew might do something so incredibly stupid just to have a reason to further maim him. He snatches him up and sends him flying into the closest wall, crumpling into a heap. Just when Matthew manages to brace himself against the wall and sit upright, Joel’s boot slams square into his back, knocking the air from his lungs.

He twitches and gasps for breath that doesn’t come. He still hasn’t caught his breath when Joel finishes stripping him bare, a constellation of slices and gashes and bruises across his body. Joel kicks him again into the middle of the room, pins him to the floor with a knee between the shoulders. The deft movement of his fingers is mesmerizing as they work over the freshly tied knots around Matthew’s elbows and wrists. Alleviation doesn’t come when Joel stands, fully clothed with a hard foot planted into Matthew’s naked back. Something about this exhibition sends a wave of heat between your thighs.

“If you try that shit again, I won’t be as patient. You understand?”

“Yes,” Matthew sputters against the ground.

“Now, keep your arms out in front of you just like that, and if I so much as see ‘em twitch I will get to flayin’ you with a blunt knife, startin’ from your fingertips.”

Matthew makes a noise that you think can only convey a distraught understanding. You inspect the loops and knots across his body, never truly trusting that it’s enough to keep him contained. Before you work yourself up with worry, Joel walks past you to the pile of tools, plucks one of them up, and returns to your side with it. A flash of light catches against the head of a hammer.

“Let’s show this bastard what puttin’ his hands ‘round your neck gets him.”

Just like he had with the knife, Joel braces himself against you and positions you over Matthew’s outstretched hands, cupping the handle of the tool in your grasp. A visible tremor shakes Matthew’s entire body, but he doesn’t dare move his arms despite knowing what’s coming. To his credit, he doesn’t scream too loud with the first several blows of the metal tool against the delicate bones in his fingers. They bend in unnatural contours after each strike, bits of stark white peeking through gnarled, ripped sinew and flesh.

The shrill din in your ears drowns out his suffocated gasps. Even when Joel helps you stand again, your knees stuck in a tremulous lock, you barely make out his instruction to drive your foot down as hard as you can. His arm curls insistently against your ribcage, holding you upright, coaxing you into delivering the violent stampede of your sole into Matthew’s already ruined appendages. The faint, sickening crunch with each strike, the soft gurgle of blood and liquid as his bone tears through where it hasn’t been crushed already. You start to feel lightheaded and sick when Joel finally pulls you away and sets you in the chair again.

Sound comes slowly back into focus, but you don’t hear what sorts of things Joel is saying to Matthew as he crouches over his pitiful, slumped body. You can only imagine it’s the adrenaline keeping him going right now. Your expression pinches when you see Joel free Matthew of all the ties he’d carefully formed not too long ago. Or maybe it had been longer than you thought. This entire room existed in a vacuum as far as your mind was concerned. It felt as though nothing existed outside these four walls. All that existed was here and now in this moment of wrath and retribution.

Joel’s hands are warm against your face. “Hey there,” he says softly, quietly, with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s bent in front of you, eyes traveling across your expression and taking in every indication of your wellbeing. “Remember if it’s too much, we can–”

“No,” you grit out. The resolve to see this through gives another wind of life. “Keep going.”

Joel’s eyebrow ticks up. “You sure about that? You were lookin’ a little pale back there.”

You shrug. “Not used to this. That’s all.”

He gives you a sympathetic grin and rubs his hands along your bare thighs. You’d forgotten you were only half-dressed. “You promised you’d tell me if it’s too much.”

“It’s not if I’m with you.”

His whole face softens, tender and visceral in the way it reaches out to you and pulls you closer. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You rest your hands over his where his thumbs rub small circles. “So tell me what we do next. Help me finish this.”

And with no pretense, he ushers you up from the seat and slowly over to where Matthew lays quietly on the floor. “You wanna know what I told him?” he breathes into your ear. The wet of Matthew’s eyes glisten from where he looks up at you. The fabric gag is in his mouth again, although he is entirely unbound. You wonder what it is that Joel said to have him not daring to move again. “Told him he had to come first or I’d start breakin’ the rest of him, piece by piece, bone by bone.”

“Come first? What do you–”

“Hold onto me,” is the only warning you get before Joel is crouched behind you, reaching a hand between your legs and pulling you backward against him. Your body naturally falls open, limbs askew, as you lean into him. His fingers are thick where they breach into your bloodied entrance, still wet with your earlier release.

You quickly figure out he’s working you at such an odd angle with a distinct purpose. The pleasant but unmistakable friction against your g-spot has your legs shaking in anticipation.

“Better get to work. She’s already gettin’ close,” Joel taunts.

To your horror, Matthew drags his mangled hands across the soft length between his thighs in some warped deference to Joel’s warning that he has to reach climax before you do. The gag in his mouth isn’t substantial enough to drown out his anguished sobs. A harsh pinch to your nipple snaps your attention back to Joel. “You focus right here, sweet girl,” he husks. “You show me how good I make you feel, huh?”

You squeak out a moan when he rolls your other nipple between his nimble touch. “Ohmygod,” you breathe.

“Mmmhhmmmm,”  he chuckles low against your temple. “ Mmmhhmmm, yeah, there she is.”

 His fingers work you faster and harder until you’re right on the cusp, closed off the rest of the world with just Joel’s voice goading you to finish. You come with a hard jerk and grab onto his solid forearm as he positions you over Matthew. It comes out of you in steady spurts, the debauched splash of your fluids landing onto Matthew’s bare body and into the valleys and gashes you’d carved into it.

He seizes up, eyes slipping into the back of his skull. You don’t have a moment to consider the acidity of it in his open wounds, how it must make it burn and aggravate the already sensitive gashes, before Joel’s hands are everywhere on you. His voice is urgent when he says he has to have you right now. You say yes because even though your body can’t take any more of it, you want whatever he’s willing to give. You want all of him, to be swallowed whole by his want, to cave into the summon of his body and his mind.

The metallic clink of his belt and rough shove of fabric. You’re practically floating. He lines himself up and pushes in, already panting and sounding close. You cling to him where you can as he begins thrusting. The split of him stings in all the best ways, and you welcome the anchoring sensation of it. “Feel so–hhngg god- feel so fuckin’ good,” he chokes.

Your feeble moan only encourages his steady pace, filling you and spreading you and molding you to him. “I want it inside,” you whimper.

Joel gives a pained groan at your request, his hips stuttering for a moment at the visual. “Yeah? Want me to come inside you again? You like that? Like being full of me?”

You make some unintelligible noise that you hope conveys your affirmation. His gravelly moan works you towards another climax, but the roll of his hips begins to falter. You know he’s close. His body drapes over yours and pushes you both closer to the ground, nearer to the strung out stare that Matthew has in between squeezing his eyes shut tight as they’ll go.

“Oh fuck, please, Joel.” You want to be marked by him, want to be hued by the color of him spilling over into you, the tones and shades of him bleeding into you and staining into one flush of congruency. “Please, I need you,” you cry out.

He empties into you with a ragged moan as you clutch to him and find purchase with your other hand against the erratic rise and fall of Matthew’s chest. The warmth of Joel surrounds you and spills out of you with each sloppy thrust until he’s laying a path of lax, wet kisses along the column of your throat. “Love you. I love you.” He says it over and over like a mantra, breathless and in reverence that you’re his.

And you love him back more fiercely than you might ever be able to put into words. You look down at the man who’d wronged you all the while feeling the protective presence of Joel behind you. This is how it was meant to turn out, you think. A bookend to the first time you and Joel came together. A thought about that first time strikes you.

“I wanna do it like that first time,” you whisper with a turn of your head.

Joel hums in approval and gathers you closer to him. His hand slips lower in silent understanding, cupping your sex as he drags himself out of you. The mixture of his cum, your slick, and your period blood rush out of your entrance and into his curved palm. Joel flicks it, and you watch as it lands with a wet slop against Matthew’s face. Far from the fearful retreat you’d dwelled in so long, a righteous indignation swells in your chest. You lean into it with Joel’s help, letting him guide you into this new side of yourself, one that’s safe to explore and execute with him by your side.

You don’t feel the need to slap Matthew more than once with the handful of fluids. Joel is only satisfied once he’s struck him several times more and spit in his face for good measure. You aren’t sure if Matthew has finally given up or if the blood loss is starting to catch up with him. His responses are coming shorter and weaker.

Joel gets himself situated again before helping you get dressed. You’re sure it’s a sight to see, all the blood and grime and fluids covering you and your clothes. When you tell him you want Matthew brought outside, Joel gives you a dubious look but doesn’t question it. You look on as Matthew hobbles naked up the stairway, down the hallway, and past a curious John and Tommy who follow along outside. You glance around for what you need, finding it on the most level table in the front living area, and head into the cool night air.

No one asks about you and Joel’s disheveled, bloodied state. All eyes are on you for direction. What happens to Matthew is your call, just like Joel said. He holds Matthew at gunpoint, almost comical in the level of overkill. He’s bleeding, naked, and struggling to stay upright. Even if everyone understands he’s not going to survive, you and Matthew both know that the last thing he can keep is his pride and die alone without anyone around to witness such a pathetic ending.

“I know that you are probably going to die out there.” You look up the side of the steep ravine and off to the side where darkness and wilderness lie in wait. Everyone shifts at the insinuation that you will give Matthew the gift of privacy in his defeated, lonely death. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t asked for my forgiveness. So, I’m offering you the chance to make that right.”

Matthew whimpers, not yet free to die alone and away from prying eyes.

“Beg,” Joel snaps –  a singular, harsh warning.

Matthew meets your eye. He looks genuinely remorseful. “I never–I never deserved you.” You give him the time he needs to power through. He’s already lost enough blood to make just speaking and holding himself upright at the same time physically taxing. You can’t imagine the mental toll. “I know if you told them to kill me, they would.” He pauses to glance Joel’s direction. “I could’ve become a different person. A better person.” He sputters and coughs again. “ You could’ve done that for me - helped me get there.”

Tears flow. Real tears. Sincere tears from a monstrous man. A man who seems to have finally come to realize things could’ve been different if he wanted them to be. He sniffs and coughs and whimpers.

“I can’t ever change how I was—” he pauses to take a wheezing gulp of air “—I can’t go back and undo it. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, fat lines of tears splashing off his face.

“I know your heart is– it’s the biggest– you have so much love—”

He pauses again and steadies his labored breaths.

“If anyone had enough heart to forgive someone like me, I know it’s you.”

He holds your gaze, steady and unwavering. He means it.

“Please, please. Forgive me.”

You look at the brutalized, broken man before you, weeping and begging for your exoneration. You glance at Joel who is already watching you with a pensive expression. You look back down at Matthew. He hasn’t looked away from you as he awaits his fate.

“You haven’t earned my forgiveness, and you never will.” 

Your scathing verdict hits colder than the nighttime air. Matthew’s eyes bug out, wide and terrified. You think you hear Tommy laugh. “Put him in the pit,” you command. You jerk your head towards the unlit firepit at the edge of the dense treeline.

John and Joel happily cart Matthew, flailing and fighting with the vigor that is somehow miraculously still fueling his will to live, as Tommy trains the gun on him. They heave him into the hollowed out recess and await your next decree. Matthew is screaming and clawing at the walls. You think if he weren’t so badly injured he would be able to easily get himself out. His current state, however, renders him confined to the small circular space. Your hands shake as you reach into your pocket for the item you grabbed on your way out. A silent mass butts up against your back and steadies your hand. Joel.

“I got you,” he reassures you quietly, softly.

He holds the package in place in your left hand and guides the match in your right hand across the raised pattern of the strike pad. A flash of white settles into a warm orange burn on the end of the match.

“I’ve got you, baby. Go ahead.”

You lean over the pit, over Matthew’s desperate calls for you to not do this, and drop the flame. John grabs something from the side and hands it to Joel. Accelerant. He concentrates the first few spurts onto Matthew’s body before dashing a smaller amount over your flame. He pulls you both back as the fire swirls and shoots and swells from the pit. You close your eyes and lean back into Joel as you all stand and listen to the agonized screams coming from the bottom of the cavity.

Joel pulls you closer to him, pulls you down with him to rest on the stump nearby. The sounds of Matthew’s demise come slower and slower as the blaze consumes him. You turn your body, cradling into Joel’s embrace, and nestle your head against the crook of his neck. It blocks out some of the noise. He dips his head and fills your mouth with the slip of his hot tongue. You drink him in, open wider for him, let him into whatever space of yours he wants. It’s all his. You’re both each other’s. The kiss slows until it’s just lips grazing back and forth. A quiet comfort. A soft soothing. A safe embrace.

“Did I do okay?” you ask in a hush. Joel hears what you’re really asking: Did I do the right thing?

“You did the best you could with what you had, darlin’.”

You nod, mulling over his sage take on your decision to end Matthew’s life. “And was my best good enough?” The last bit comes out in a sort of choke, your emotions getting the better of you.

“You are good enough,” Joel is quick to emphasize. “And it’s high time you started livin’ the life you deserve.”

“I only want that if it’s with you.”

“And I’m up for the challenge of makin’ up for lost time,” he replies with a soft smile.

The tortured cries have died away, lost into the high pitched sound of the wet spots being scorched from the insides of the logs.

“But what about Rachel and the baby?” You fiddle with the button on your shirt. Even though they were better off without Matthew, you still felt the guilt of leaving her with the burden of birthing and raising a child on her own. When he doesn’t respond right away, you turn to Joel. His body is tense with the knowledge of something, another hidden truth.

“Tell me,” you urge him in a hush. “We’ve made it this far. You won’t scare me. Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

He pulls you closer, some form of self-soothing perhaps, and relents more of the endless dedication he holds for you. “He has no business havin’ a bloodline.” He’s quiet for a moment, weighing something in his mind. Finding the right words. You wait for him, just like he always waits for you. “Won’t be too long now before she turns up to the clinic to find out she’s lost it.”

Lost it.

Lost it?

“You… what does—”

“She won’t know any different. Prolly chalk it up to the stress of everythin’. And she wasn’t hurt in the process, neither, so don’t go thinkin’ I’d–”

“Who did it?”

Joel finally looks at you. “Somebody in the greenhouses owed me. Got a knack for medicinal herb stuff.”

“So–So, what? They made her take something–”

“Nobody made her do anythin’,” he’s quick to correct. “It was mixed in with her food rations. Had the main dose of it prepared in a cafeteria meal she had, too, just in case.” He shrugs. “ Wanted to be sure.”

You swallow hard, not letting the mix of emotions bleed through to your expression. You don’t want Joel to think you don’t trust him, that you’re scared of him, scared of someone who was capable of such a thing - not after everything you’d been through.

“So, you– whoever it was, they gave her something to make the pregnancy fail?” You already know the answer, but you want him to say it.

“Yes.”

You nod, awash in your thoughts and mixed feelings over this splintered arm of a fucked up situation. Joel is unmoving beside you, waiting in anticipation of your blessing or reprimand. 

“No part of him exists anymore,” you say. It’s a plain observation, but you both sit in the spoken impact of it. “No part of him exists anymore, and the world is better for it.”

Your body feels weak and raw, but it’s unlike the weight of stress and danger that’s been plaguing you for so long. No, it’s the fragile heap of newness, the tentative foray of new life. Joel holds you close, coddles you, as you both stare wordlessly into the blazing fire. He watches you from the corner of his eye, only shifting when you meet his gaze. Thoughtful. Quiet.

“You ready to go home?”

Home. You smile at the thought of it, the house you now share, but know that home is truly wherever you and Joel are together. He grins back in understanding.

“Yeah,” you softly sigh, content and sleepy. “Let’s go home, Joel.”

Thank you thank you thank you for all the love and patience with this series! I've poured so much into this to get it right and tell the sort of story I feel deserves to be told. I am so proud of it (and that I finally finished it!), and I hope that it can heal parts of you as it did for me when I was writing it.

Many thanks to @jupiter-soups and @ghoulettesinspace for beta'ing and helping see this story come to a close.

Thank you for reading. I love you all. 💜

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

tagging: @csarab615 @maryrhodalouandted @wrathofcats @fckyeapedrothots99 @spookyxsam @purplesucksbutts @untamedheart81 @electriclasso @pedroficrecblog @ladyscarlettdixon @fan-of-encouragement @blackvelveteen1339 @defijones @ploddingalong @clickergossip @akah565 @rose-with-few-thorns @miraclesabound @elegantmusicdragon @amneris21 @oldmanfromthewoods @sabbs118

@bowie-sunbaenim @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @uudelally @urlocalcr4ckwhor3 @drunk-and-capable @vickywallace @gaiahypothesims @lilipads @ashleyfilm @hiddenbabynyc @marvelouslyme96 @sleepyinspiration @reneerocks3617 @biast @sweetly-yours-and-mine @voguementhols @imperfectspatula @h0neyb3ars @whatsliferightnow @fuckthatbazinga @bigbutchenergee @mysticalsuitkryptonite @weepingkittybear

cont'd in comments

#fic: whistle in the dark #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #cuckolding is romantic #tlou #joel miller tlou

[jung-shook-iieee]

THINKIN' BOUT YOU. | JHS

➳Pairings: mafia hus' hoseok x wife reader (f)

➳word count : 6k ( sorry lol)

➳ genre : smut, oneshot. ( with a little plot.)

➳summary : You were surely enjoying the freedom hoseok gave you but you were quietly getting on his nerves lately and he doesn't know how long he'll be able to keep his emotions in control.

➳warnings : CNC, a little angst, hobi is really scary lmao, oc ignores hobi unintentionally, uses of profanities, oral (m/f) receiving, rough , slapping, degradation, angry sex?, hoseok is pretty af, touch denial, multiple orgasms, roleplays, dom/sub dynamic, 18+ oneshot.

➳A/N - I haven't proofread so sorry for any bad spellings. :) I may have written more than I intended to write, so bear with me if this is cringy. :(. Also please like and reblog if you like it. Don't hesitate to give me your feedbacks. It always helps me. <3333333

➳ A/N : this is purely fiction, I do not own any bts member or anyone else. It's just my imagination okay? So read the warnings before you read further. And strictly minors dni.

Masterlist.

His fingers tapped on the hard wooden surface which created rhythmic drumming that slowly become louder and annoying. It echoed in his office and he couldn't really focus on his paperwork, he's been sitting here for 2-3 hours and he still couldn't complete one single thing.... and all of this was just because of you.

He wouldn't mind in normal days when you took over his mind, he loved to have you in his thoughts 24/7 but today it's just really annoying him. He loved you too much to keep you away and so he always kept you real close but when he introduced you to his group, his friends, and their partners you definitely liked them a little more than he expected.

You were surely enjoying the freedom hoseok gave you but you were quietly getting on his nerves lately and he doesn't know how long he'll be able to keep his emotions in control. Anyone could see the tension and insecurity on his face when he realized that he couldn't completely dominate any subject of his.It was is in his nature to make everyone bow at his feet, hoseok was raised like that and as a ruler and leader of bangtan and Jung Inc. He expected no exception for anyone other than the handful of his loved ones.

But that stereotypes were quickly broken when hoseok realized that his woman was going out and making new friends, getting comfortable around them, handling some outer affairs of his organization single handedly, completely living her best life and mistakenly forgetting about him.

Those new friends of yours occupied your time a lot which made your schedule busier and hoseok couldn't spend time with you properly other than sleeping in the same room. Every time he initiated something you always tell him that you were tired and would like to rest. So he ends up hugging you or massaging your scalp till you sleep, no extra sharing of words and spending quality time with him.

Your behavior was leaving hoseok utterly speechless, he was used to you clinging to him wherever he goes, accompanying in his office, being a great advisor, and helping out him in some matters but now you were just busy in your own life. You even let your friends take you out for lunch and dinner which led hoseok to end up having his own meal time with old hags.

Hoseok was lost in your thoughts when you ringed his cellphone. He sighed and picked it up as soon as he saw, " Heyyy babyy. " Your beautiful voice bloomed on the other side making him smile a little.

" Hey " He replied rather plainly and he thought you would notice the lack of excitement in his voice but you didn't.

" Nothing just wanted to inform you that I might come late tonight because I'm going with Leah to check the progress of training. " You completed your sentence in one go, sure hoseok gave you the responsibility of looking after the training of rookies but he never intended you to be this serious about the whole thing.

You were going with Leah, namjoon's wife and she's a really strong and tough woman so no there's nothing to be scared about and he can't stop you from going there. " Y/n...can't you go some other day? I'll be home early and I miss you. "

to be honest, you were surprised by the sudden confession of his about missing you. Hoseok has a twisted personality, he may seem the sweetest type of guy but in reality, he's a devil in disguised. He's a sinner.

It took you a while, getting him comfortable around you so you do understand from where he's coming.

" Hobii. It's really important and I promise I'll try to be back early. " You felt guilty, but you can't say no to leah now and he trusted you with the responsibility and you had to make sure you're carrying out the whole thing correctly. You just want to make him proud.

" You don't seem to notice but you are not giving me your time, princess. " He whispered, he was this straightforward about his feelings for you and you knew he was having his separate emotional breakdown. You could sense the seriousness in his tone. You were guilty and stressed, you never got stuck between these things, but you always saw how hoseok would manage things and you were still learning.

" I promise hobi-ah after this I'll spend more time with you okay? I need to go now bye and love you. " Leah was Motioning you towards the car so you hung up the phone quickly after saying your words, not giving a chance to hoseok to even reply. You did felt a little guilty but leah took your attention quickly making you forget about the whole conversation with your husband.

Hoseok was baffled, how could you do that to him, he was waiting for you and you couldn't even talk to him properly. He clenched his jaw and Abruptly stood up and walked towards the window, he needs some fresh air to calm down his anger.

And after that, hoseok almost killed his secretary for bringing his coffee 3 minutes late. The whole day he kept sulking and frowning over little things. if you want him to wait then he will surely wait for you.

_

To say you were tired would be an understatement, the whole day you checked the progress of the trainees, a handful of them were still behind the schedule and you might have to ask Jungkook to change their routine. Other than that the equipments were quite good from the last time. less heavy and more efficient. you also checked the shipment details of the guns and other resources, tho it wasn't your headache to check but you wanted to do that for hoseok. he was already so busy and tense. you just wanted to lessen his burden.

you didn't realized the time and kept yourself busy with these chores, by the time you finished it was 1:15 a.m and your muscles were aching. so you decided to call it a night and drove back with Leah. you dropped her and then you reached your place.

you punched the passcode and the door unlocked, when you entered you noticed that the lights were off, only the kitchens were dim. For a moment you thought that hoseok was asleep, you were feeling guilty because you too extremely missed hoseok these days. You wanted nothing but to cuddle and sleep with him.

But when you entered your shared room you saw the window was open and hoseok was leaning over the wall, maybe looking at the outside beauty.

His hair was blonde and styled back, but you remember his hair was black in the morning. The side hair was trimmed giving his hairstyle a bold look. His sharp jawline was glowing under the moonlight.

The room lights were off, but still, the moonlight made you able to admire your husband's features. your eyes widened when you noticed that he was wearing nothing but only his sweatpants. his broad chest, sharp collar bones, toned abs and below it narrowed down to a v line before trailing down below his navel. The sight in front of you was too much to hold in, unknowingly you gulped loudly which made hoseok turn around.

You were so busy gawking at your own husband that you did not catch him the first time. " What's the time y/n? " He again repeated his question but this time looking in your eyes. Your breath was knocked out the moment he opened his mouth. Hoseok looked no less than a Greek god.

" You look,...hot....baby. " You mumbled softly which made hoseok quirk an eye brows. " That's not what I asked y/n." He replied walking towards you.

You again loudly gulped before answering him, " 2:00 a.m." He nodded and came closer. you looked more closely and realized that his beautiful forehead was more visible, his sharp nose and heart-shaped lips looked so delicious. His face is rather long which makes him look more masculine from certain angles. he knew what he was doing to you and you didn't even realize that your lips were parted slightly.

he touched your chin with his slender and long finger and pushed it upwards, making you close your mouth. you were embarrassed right now, you are shamelessly ogling your husband. " where were you? " he asked his minty breath fanning over your lips. you found yourself unable to reply to him, your words were stuck in your throat.

He tapped your chin harshly for an answer. " I-I was busy checking the shipment details, I forgot to check the time. I'm sorry," you replied through your small voice, he wasn't doing anything but he still made your knees weak, you felt your knees turning into jelly....his aura seemed darker than usual.

" Sometimes you really leave me speechless princess." he spoke as he took steps forward while you walked backward slowly. " you really disappoint me a lot these days Y/n, do you like it? "

his eyes were so cold, he looked like he was about to snap your neck into two but you know hoseok would never do that to you. your back touched the wall and he stood in front of you, hovering your tiny figure. he was looking so intimidating.

. " you tend to forget about us a lot y/n, are you doing this on purpose? do you like seeing me suffer? hhmm? do you like when I beg for your attention? " Hoseok gritted his teeth, he looked and sounded so scary but you know he would never harm you. That was the only thing you kept repeating inside your head.

You tried to touch his cheek with your trembling hands but he moved away from you. " Hobi... I-I know I'm late I'm sorry baby. " You spoke barely audible, your mafia husband was a dangerous man to begin with. People do not end well if they tried to mess up with him, you know this. But then you also know you are an exception, he won't hurt you. Not unless you want him to.

" It's just not about today, You've been doing this for days !!, Do I not deserve your time, your attention?? You manage your time for your fucking friends but you always leave me behind. I'm your fucking husband! For fuck's sake.!" .

Scary! That would be the only word you would describe hoseok at the moment.

Honestly, you weren't scared of him because you know no matter how much dangerous he can be for other people, he would still handle you carefully. Hoseok never got this angry on you, you know you fucked up big this time.

He wasn't the one to communicate verbally about his feelings towards you but today he's different. He was angry and still controlling himself from hurting you, you could see the anger and disappointment in his eyes.

You took in the fact that your psycho handsome husband, Hoseok was jealous of his members and your friends. On normal days you would've cooed at him, teasing him about being jealous but today it felt like you'll fucking cry if one more time he screamed at you.

" I-I m s-sorry. " You whispered, head hung low and barely audible. But he heard it. You were shivering by now but still, you dared to look him in the eye and his glare was enough to tear your eyes. But if you looked away you knew it would make him angrier, so you held the gaze even tho you were certain that you'll cry any minute.

" Are you though? Are you sorry y/n? I wanted to have you all by myself but I still... I still tried to act normal for you. Still held myself from locking You up here. You how fucked up I'm and you still tested me.!!!! " Hoseok scared the shit of you, you could see in his eyes how bad you've hurt him.

" I-I am tru-st me, I was just helping around because I thought it would make things easy- " " Oh shut up, I'm not buying that babe. " Hoseok cuts you in between, starring at you disinterestingly.

" You wanted to test my patience and you did. Now you'll face the consequences sweetheart. " Hoseok said as stood taller in front of you, not even once breaking the eye contact.

A second later you felt him cornering you around the wall, sneaking his veiny hand around your waist.

His hands were freezing cold, you gasped at the sensation and then he slammed his lips on yours before you could speak anything further, his lips molded into yours. His breath was fresh and minty and his lips were soft as ever. The kiss grew passionate eventually, it's been days since hoseok tasted you properly and so he's not giving you time to breathe. He cupped your face and tilted his head kissing you deeply and groaning in your mouth.

You were taken back and so you found yourself struggling with his desperate luscious lips but soon you gave in and you too devoured his lips hungrily. You drew your hands closer to his chest, and he felt so warm.

You hummed at the warm sensation and you dragged your hands down towards his torso.

Just when you were about to touch his lower's waistband he swayed your hand away harshly making you whine. And in a split second your back was pushed against the wall, hoseok was glowing and which made you gasp.. He pinned both of your hands above your head. " You better be at full submission today princess! I'm really upset and I won't entertain any sort of request of yours. " Hoseok gritted his teeth while he practically growled at your face. His hot breath fanning all over your face and lips glistening your undies and making it hard for you to breathe.

" Hear that baby.?? " He wrapped his free hand around your neck while applying pressure.

" I-Yess ok-hobii. " You choked on your words as you managed to reply to him. You were sure you would have shitted your pants if he did the same thing as a leader but it made your panties wetter because he was doing this as a dom, an angry, jealous and hot dom.

He blew his hot breath on your lips as he kissed you again. You Whimpered from the harsh touches of his lips, you were squirming against the wall as hoseok was deepening the kiss.

Hoseok traced his lips on your cheeks then jawline and slowly he reached your neck, he kissed your neck sensually while he tugged your waist closer to his body. Hoseok was so hot, the desperation, the need was dripping from his eyes when he looked at you. He cupped your breast and flicked your nipples over the fabric, which made you shudder against the wall. A needy moan slipped from your mouth.

" Trust me when I say I love you the most baby, but right now I want to wreck you, physically and emotionally. I want to fucking choke you and fuck you till you remember nothing but me. Only me. " Hoseok said in his raspy voice while he played with your nipples. There was a pool of slick between your legs, the dampness was increasing with his lewd threats. And you couldn't help it.

But hoseok continued, " I want to fuck you y/n. Just Wanna fuck you, so much that you can't walk straight for days baby. Wanna keep fucking you, cum deep inside you so that you could know who you belong to. You'll be a dripping mess, my mess. Wanna rip this fucking pussy so bad. "

He announced as he again buried his face in the crook of your neck and started giving your purple bruises all of your neck.

You shivered just from the mere thought of hoseok doing that to you. In all honesty, you were turned on but the fact that hoseok was actually capable of doing this to you made you think that he might actually want to kill you by fucking the life out of you. But you knew, he wouldn't do that. Right?. But fuckin you till you can't walk straight? Cumming inside? Like he really said ripping your kitty? Yep, tonight is going to be a long night. Sure you will lose the freedom of speech and wouldn't be able to walk properly after this. You were pretty sure that tonight he's just gonna actually fucking rip your pussy.

Hoseok picked you up and threw you on the mattress, hard. You screamed but couldn't do anything else. You were at his mercy tonight. " This goes off. " Hoseok signaled towards your black t-shirt and in a second you peeled the fabric off your skin. The grey lacy bra was looking attractive on your skin and hoseok couldn't help but tear that off making you yelp.

And now you were naked from above, your hair was all over your face and shoulders. You were trying to regain your senses back but before you could do that, hoseok slapped your right nipple hard. It made you cry, the pain was sharp and sudden. You quickly covered your breast " Keep your hands back, slut. " He growled and you quickly placed your hands at your back, he slapped the left one and then again the right one. The process continued until he turned your skin sore and red.

" You know your safe word, right princess? " Hoseok asked in between tormenting your nipples. You opened your eyes for a moment and nodded your head in yes. Of course consent is important. He wouldn't do anything without your consent. His growing smirk showed you that he knows you would never tell him to stop. You're just a painslut who loves being manhandled by him.

Your continuous cries made hoseok hard, painfully hard. He wanted nothing but to straddle you and fuck the life out of you. He loves you, surely he does but right now you weren't his lover but his slut, his whore. And he would not show any mercy towards you. Tonight he'll fuck you like you deserve. And the fact that your pathetic cries were turning him on was something bad. Bad for you.

Hoseok was enjoying torturing your nipples, and you were trying oh so hard to obey him by not covering your breast, it was making him proud. He gathered your scattered hair and pulled you towards his lower abdomen, your skin color was slowly turning into a reddish one. " Take my cock out. " He ordered and you complied. You fumbled with the waistband of his sweatpants and dragged them down, hoseok quickly came out of them. The way his cock slapped on his stomach got you clenching your pussy around nothing.

His dick was angry, red, and hot, leaking precum all over his beautiful head. It made your mouth water, you loved his dick. He dragged you by your hair on the ground and made you sit like an obedient puppy on your knees. From your angle, his thighs were looking so muscular and his veiny big dick made you groan. You just wanted to take him in your mouth and give him the suck of his life but you know he won't give it to you so easily.

He spread the precious precum all over his hot and red dick, he pumped it for you and cursed at the sight in front of him. You, on your knees, waiting for him to just shove his dick in your mouth and fuck you ruthlessly or Take you however He wants. He exactly knows how much of a whore you are for him and his dick.

" Tongue out. " He ordered and you took your tongue out just like he wants. You were so eager to obey him and make him happy that you don't mind the hungry gaze which he was giving you. Hoseok tapped his Dick's head on your velvety and warm tongue and rubbed its head on your tongue.

He slipped his dick deeper in your mouth while he gripped your hair tightly so that you could not move. " Mmhh- " An incoherent moan slipped out from your mouth as you felt his head hit the back of your throat. Hoseok groaned at the warm feeling of your mouth. He placed one hand on your throat and started thrusting slowly at first giving you time to relax your jaw then he increased the intensity of his strokes. Doing it all over and again thrusting deeper, a moan slipped out of hoseok's lips.

" You like that? Agghh you do like that slut I know you do. " He grunted and thrusted faster making you whimper. You only took support by holding his thighs. Hoseok was thrusting rough and fast making you gag on his dick. With every thrust, you felt your cunt pulsing with so much intensity that you were sure there's a slick pool down there between your legs.

Hoseok tightened the grip on your hair as he thrusted faster, you moaned through it and the vibration was making hoseok loose his mind. He really wants to wreck you so bad.

Hoseok felt himself close and as he looked at the mess he made out of you he was sure that he could bust at any moment now. The mere scene of you taking his dick so perfectly and lewdly made him go feral. " I'm gonn-a cum princess... Do you want my cum? Mhmm tell me? Do you want it.? " He asked as he pulled his dick out letting you breathe harshly for a second or two.

" Ye-s please please... I want it. " You begged and looked at him with wet eyes. Hoseok looked so unreal that you couldn't actually believe he's your fucking husband.

" You want it? You think you're good enough to swallow my cum princess? " Hoseok questioned making you groan in displeasure. Of course you want it, his cum is the tastiest thing you've ever had, he knows that and yet he's teasing you.

" I'm....Please baby I'm good you know. " You pleaded with your lust hooded eyes and he grabbes your jaw harshly making you whimper.

" Fine, then let me use your pretty mouth as a cump dump baby, let me use you. " He said and you quickly obliged opening your mouth and asking him to just shove his dick down your throat.

Hoseok wasted no time and started thrusting faster inside your mouth, your mouth feels heaven and he can no longer control himself. The warmth of your mouth was engulfing him deep and soon he felt himself cuming deep down your throat. Hoseok moaned and whimpered looking straight into your doll looking eyes. He sweared it urged him to fucked himself faster , he was very close and his lips were parted, head thrown back and eyes closed, he saw stars.

On the contrary, you were trying your best to swallow whole, you don't want to waste even a single drop. " Yes just like that baby, such a horny girl for me hm? Don't waste a single drop." Hoseok was blown out, you made him like this.

" You good baby? " Hoseok inquired pushing your scattered hair back from your face. You sluggishly plopped yourself against his leg. " I'm good daddy just a minute. " You mumbled against his skin.

After a minute hoseok picked you and threw you on his bed. You thought he would give you rest? Oh how naive were you. " You did good baby but i want to fuck you with my tongue, I'm thirsty. " With that hoseok laid on his stomach and pulled you by your thighs towards his face. You almost whimpered from shame but hoseok was quick to part your legs. He blew air on your core making you gasp.

" This is mine. " Hoseok said softly kissing your folds and tipped his nose on your little bud, making your pussy ache for him. He took his time in licking all of your juices, some smearing on his chin but he didn't gave a shit about that instead he dived in deeper flicking clit with his tongue then sucking the whole nub making you cry in pleasure.

" How many times do you want to come baby? " Hoseok asked looking up at you between your legs. You frowned, the sight was too alluring. You wanted hoseok there, between your legs, covered in your juices for the rest of your life. " As ma-nny as yo-u want daddy. " You stuttered, the pleasure was too much turning you dumber with each passing second.

" This is mine right? " Hoseok asked Kissing your folds once again. You quickly nodded mumbling a yes. " Then if I want to destroy this pussy would you let me? " Hoseok mumbled sucking your clit and the vibration was sending you over the edge, turning your mind blank. "Y-yes." You moaned. " Can't hear you princess. " He said as kept sucking the soft flesh. "Yesss.. Yes-ss please-e.... " You breathe out and threw your head back.

It was all that hoseok needed and he completely focused on eating you out now. Hoseok grabbed your left leg and threw it over his shoulder while he ate you out and inserting one finger inside you. The man was sure something else today, like some evil thing possessed him. He wasn't stopping, only increasing his speed and suckling your bud crazily.

You couldn't grab his hair, you don't want to upset him so you instead grabbed your breast. Roughly pulling and teasing your sensitive buds. Hoseok entered another finger and curled it up inside you making you cry. You were close, so close. " Ahh.. Dad-dy I - I'm.... " You couldn't speak, words felt too heavy but hoseok understood, he fastened his speed and it took you a second or two before bursting into his mouth. Hoseok moaned feeling your liquid inside his mouth, you taste heaven he could never get tired of your sweet little pussy.

Hoseok cleaned you up and went back straight eating you again. This man right there between your legs was unbelievable, you tried scooting away from the Oversensitivity but he quickly slapped your breast and again busied himself between your legs.

You were drained, you didn't even remember the count by now. Hoseok wasn't stopping anytime soon you begged him to stop but he turned deaf, ignoring your pleas.

After what felt a decade he lached himself away from your pussy and his chin was completely covered in your juices. He licked his lips and moaned. You felt dirty and embarrassed, it felt so explicit. But Jung Hoseok was an unbelievable man.

" Tired already? " He shook his head chuckled. " You have to do somethin about it princess because I'm going to fucking tear apart this tiny pussy. " He said softly as if it didn't made you scared for your dear life.

Before you could speak anything, hoseok lined himself in front of you and without a warning he slammed himself inside you making you choke on your tears. " That's right baby, scream.. Scream as loud as you can. You know I fucking love that. " Hoseok chuckled and grabbed your already sore breast, fucking you faster.

The bed was creaking, the pace was inhuman, your mouth left open but no sound could be heard. " So fuckin tigh-t bab-y. Fuck" He moaned and leaned down to capture your lips between his. You were moaning as he kept thrusting inside you. You loved getting filled by the man you loved. It was euphoric, the pain, the pleasure it all felt too much.

Hoseok leaned down to kiss your lips, distracting you from the pain. You quickly wrapped your hands around his neck pulling him more close. His warmth felt right. Hoseok kept drilling himself inside you and re arranging your organs. Your throat was sore, he moved towards your neck and started devouring the flesh. He started giving you purple bruises which would be the proof of your ownership.

You let out a shaky breath as you felt yourself cuming around his dick. Hoseok hissed because of how tight you were clenching him. He fucked you so many times and still he left amazed by your tightness. Everytime he make sure to open you up till you gap but nothing remains permanent.

" Look in my eyes while I fuck your brains out darling. " Hoseok ordered you and you quickly obeyed opening your eyes and directly looking at his. His eyes we're the prettiest, he looked angel, naked, all above you, fucking you into a mess. How can someone look angelic while doing these utterly sinful things?

"Da-ddyy to-o much... m'not... Aghh. " You cried and hoseok just shushed you. Not listening to your pleas. He did not stopped only increased his thrust making your eyes roll back and scream his name.

Hoseok halted his movements and pulled himself out of her then roughly turning you around and raising your ass up. Your mind was blank till now,before you could even register the movements he thrusted again making you choke on your sobs."Too much? My dumb little whore thinks it too much. I haven't finished baby... You gotta take what daddy gives you. Got it? " Hoseok hissed and slapped your ass roughly. You were only able to nod your head nothing more.

" Will ya let me break your back if I want to baby? " Hoseok asked through clenched teeth, collecting your scattered hairs in his palm and tightening the grip, making your raise your neck higher. " Y-yes " You breathed out, a little moan leaving from your lips.

" Good, that's what I expect from you baby. That's what you should do yeah? " Hoseok kept thrusting harder making your eyes roll in the back of your head. The pleasure was too much, the heat in the pit of your stomach was turning your mind into a mushy little thing.

Hoseokg gripped your flesh near your waist roughly making you whimper, he can not just do that can he? It was making you loose all of your senses. The grip on your hair was only getting tighter , the thrusts were getting rougher, sloppier making hoseok loose his mind too.

His emotions were all over the place, but fucking your pussy made him loose all. He forgot he was even feeling insecure that you might leave him. No way you would leave him noticing the way how you're enjoying his strokes, pussy clenching around his dick even harder than before. He would never let you go, tho.

" You're mine baby, fucking mine. " His rasped voice sending shivers directly at your core. His voice was strained, like he was speaking from the back of his throat making you all giddy and aroused at the same time. You loved this hoseok, angry hoseok definitely hits your spot better.

"yeah baby? my cock that fuckin' good? fucking you so stupid your don't even have anything to say? such a needy little slut for daddy." you moaned in response, and the sound of the growl that came from hoseok's throat made you clench around his cock and he noticed. "god fucking dammit, y/n. gonna make me fuckin' cum. gotta have you soak my cock first before me, understand?" you nodded, gripping the bed sheets as he pounded into you. his pelvis brushing over your clit, and he moved his hand from your hip straight to your swollen clit, brushing circles into the bud. your hips jolted at the contact and he let out a groan as he pushed your face into the mattress.

"hob-ii....too much.. fuck.." he shook his head, grabbing your wrists and held them together at your back. he thrusted into you, his mouth a few inches from your ear as he whispered.

"you're gonna lay here and take my fucking dick, you hear me? gonna cum so deep inside you, you'll feel me for days. wanna fill you to full with my fuckin' cum you'll be leakin' me for the rest of the week." you whimpered in response, clenching around his cock as he spoke and making it harder for you to breath.

" Fuc....k... Ba..by ple..ase... I can't any..more.. Please.... " You cries were muffled but hoseok heard you perfectly. " shush, you can handle it baby don't ya? You're my good, girl aren't you? " Hoseok cooed at you, making you whimper. How can you disobey your hoseok? If says, then you're going to take it.

He stopped all together, earning a groan of displeasure from your mouth and turning you around, on your back. " Look at me while I cum deep inside you. Yeah? Will ya baby? " He mumbled, too lost in the pleasure.

Not even after a second he quickly entered you again thrusting sloppily and still hitting your spots perfectly. Your brows were knitted together feeling the pressure he was building in your stomach. Hoseok leaned down kissing you messily, groping your breasts.

" See babygirl. feel you milkin' my cock already. you want it that bad? wanna be my little cum slut that bad? fuck.." he moaned out in between kissing you, quickening his thrusts as he pounded into you, the headboard started to hit the wall with each movements and his eyes never left yours."p-please.. Hob..ii...." you moaned out from under hand hand, and you felt him push his hips against you hard, his cock twitching in your cunt. he bellowed out the most pornographic moan you had heard the man make, triggering your own orgasm with him as he came inside you.

you felt the mixture of yours and his cum spill out of your swollen cunt and down your ass cheeks, onto the sheets. he couldn't help but groan as he let go of your throat and wrists as he pulled out, his overstimulated cock throbbing in your sopping cunt.

" I love you. " He said as he collapsed over you.

" I love you too hoseok. " You replied ingulfing him in a hug.

" Hobii I'm sorry i made you feel unwanted by the way. I'll never do it again. " You mumbled on his neck.

" It's fine baby" Hoseok mumbled, forgiving you long ago.

" Besides, it won't be a much hassle to remind you again. " He pecked your lips and chuckled lightly, earning a swat on his back from your small hands.

____

@yellabella77 @vvh0adie @sweetwolfcupcake @taeluv13 @screamertannie @bbyorchid @sabiluna00113 @favfanfictsbts @jwirecs @thew-recroom @aka-fic-reqs @miyaohyeahh @mintsugarmy

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[thatone-brightstar]

More than all the stars (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader) (The Bear & The Fox Series)

Prologue: "'best natural lighting' or whatever..."

Words: 1.8k

summary: This is a story about love.

a/n: Hi, I'm back! (did ya miss me?!) Enjoy a lil preview of part III and remember comments are always appreciated! P.S. if you haven't read part 1 or 2. Here's a link to both!

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Before You (Carmen Berzatto X Fem!OC)

There’s a slight tremor to your hands, clinging tightly to the worn down synthetic cover of the steering wheel, while the pillow under your thighs lifts you up enough to see over the hood.

“Whenever you’re ready, babe.” Carmy speaks softly over the rumbling engine, one hand cupping over your static knee.

“I know just- gimme a sec.” You answer nervously and take your hands off the wheel to dry out the sweat then readjust them with a loud exhale. “Okay, okay, okay- I got this.”

“Yeah you do…” 

His reassuring tone has you slowly pressing on the pedal, tires turning over the cold asphalt and finally moving out of the spot you’ve occupied for the past fifteen minutes. The streets are deserted and you’re thankful Carmy chose the early morning to finally eradicate your fear of driving. You can hear the snow crunching under the tires as the car moves slowly- not daring to press the pedal any harder- and your dread slightly spikes, but his soothing touch chases the anxiety away.

“Look- Bear, look I’m doing it!” You rejoice at the halfpoint between your building and his. Granted, it’s only five blocks, but it’s more than you’ve driven in  a year, so you’ll take a win where you can get it.

“You’re doin’ real good baby, just a few more blocks...” He encourages in the sweet tone reserved only for you, the one that has you clutching to the wheel and your foot pressing harder over the petal. 

“Sorry-that one’s on me-” Carmy apologizes once he notices your flaring cheeks and hides his amusement behind the sleeve of his navy sweater. “Try slowin’ down a bit for me, can you baby?” 

“Carmen!” 

“Sorry-sorry” He repeats between choked laughs, though you know he isn’t in the slightest.

When you finally reach the snowy sidewalk of his building, you push out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding and turn the keys to kill the engine. Instead of stepping out into the cold, you take in the calming silence with a pleased smile across your face.

“Told ya you could do it.” Carmy says towards you, a replica of your small triumph etched on his own face.

His hand reaches up to brush over your warm cheek with his thumb and your body subconsciously gravitates towards his touch.

“You ready?” He whispers, too soon.

“No.” You answer honestly, making his chuckle. “But, we must-”

With another sigh, you quickly turn to kiss the base of his palm, then move to pull the door open. Before you slam it closed, a loud metallic bang vibrates over the roof of the car and makes you clutch a hand over your heart and turn to the source of the noise.

“Richie, carajo! Are you fuckin stupid or what?!” You shout once you spot the man bent over in laughter, standing behind you with his hand flat over the roof.

“My bad, sweetheart- just couldn’t help it-” Is all he can manage to say. You smack the side of his arm, though you doubt it’ll do anything under the multiple layers of his jacket, it still makes you feel better.

“Cousin, I told you -don’t go ‘round callin’ people sweetheart okay, it’s fuckin’ weird-” Carmy calls out, slamming his own door.

“Alright, Jesus! Fuckin’ morality police- I wouldn’t have come, cousin, if I knew you’d be up my ass before dawn-”

Richie steps away to let you open the back door and start pulling boxes that you push in his direction, but that he doesn’t begin to take, instead hiding his hands in the pockets of his coat.

“Why did you come then… exactly?” You ask, annoyed.

“Did you see us- did you?!” Your mother’s vibrant voice rings from the end of the street, waving her hands as high as the puffy jacket permits her. “I was waving but you didn’t see!”

She has too much energy for the time of day, in big comparison to a barely awake Joshua carrying a few stuff behind her.

“No, ma. I was too busy trying not to crash…” You answer, eyes narrowing over the sudden change in Richie’s posture.

“Again?” Joshua mumbles and you throw a middle finger through the open car door as you keep pushing boxes out to his stagnant feet.

“Yo- you gonna help out or not?” Carmy says to him and that finally snaps him out of his lost gaze.

“What- oh, ye-yeah, totally. That’s what I’m here for, cuz. Y’know… purpose.” Richie responds with a smile and new found enthusiasm and piles one box over the other, then picks them up with little effort and follows your brother and mother through the opened building door.

“Oh, I can’t believe my baby’s moving out! I remember when she was the size of…” Her voice trails off once they begin to climb the stairs and you and Carmy are left with a few boxes on the street.

“In fear of grossing myself out-” You say, shutting the door and rounding to Carmy’s side. “-you don’t think your cousin’s got the hots for my mom… do you?”

“What? N-no, no I don’t think so...” He answers, though the way his mouth is sealed in a tight line gives him away. You stare blankly at his expression, eyes dead straight until he breaks. “Yeah uh… I think he does.” He confesses.

“Dammit.” You mutter, leaning on the cold vehicle and crossing your arms. “I knew it- it’s so fuckin’ obvious-”

“-so obvious.” Carmy agrees. “Y’know, I didn’t even ask ‘em to come help…”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then how’d he-”

“-I dunno.”

You stare at the door for a few more seconds while your boyfriend picks up the last of your stuff. “...he’s so weird.”

His eyes follow yours to the door, then sighs “...yeah” and moves to the entrance.

You can hear the voices emanating from the apartment while climbing up the last few stairs. There’s a lot of senseless arguing that you can’t quite make out even as you fully enter the room. You also don’t understand why Syd’s standing on the footrest of the kitchen stools, failing to guide Richie and Joshua while they move Carmy’s couch around. 

“No-see, this is why I told you it was a bad idea- there’s no space-”

“-There is, just- help move the tv over-” 

“-How’re you gonna move a couch where there’s no space, Richie?-”

“Cousin! Cousin, help me out here, push the tv over-” Richie shouts once he spots Carmy crossing into the room.

Instead of inserting yourself into the mess, you round the kitchen bar and drop the box of art supplies beside the steaming pot of fresh coffee. Your grandfather hands you a full mug, eyes staring amused at the arguing men as he leans to your side so you can place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Everyone’s too passionate this morning…” You mutter, blowing over the rim of your mug.

“Y’know what, fuck it-” Syd throws her arms up in surrender and hops off the stools, moving behind the bar, beside you. “- I tried to stop ‘em.” 

“What is he even trying to do?” You ask, attention heavy on Richie’s mannerisms, while your grandpa hands Syd her own mug.

“He wants to fit your easel beside the window cause he says it has the ‘best natural lighting’ or whatever….” She answers before taking a sip and your heart warms at the sweet gesture.

You all watch them move around for a while longer, the scene reminds you too much of the monkey exhibits at the zoo and you try to disguise your amusement with a series of coughs. 

“Aún te puedes arrepentir…” Your grandfather whispers beside you, making Syd snigger over her coffee. “...también te casas con la familia, eh.” He adds and points to Richie with his head.

“Ay papá, aún no se está casando con nadie.” Your mother whispers from behind, giving him a gentle pat on the arm.

“Yeah and they’re not really cousins...” Syd adds.

“Oh, it is just a saying, dear.” He clears and turns to you, two hands softly cradling your shoulders. “Segura que estarás bien?” He asks in a more serious tone.

You inhale deep and nod with a smile. One of your hands raises to caress his fragile skin. 

“Lo estaré.” You mouth soundless. “He’s a good one.” You add with a wider grin.

He makes a sound similar to a hum and pulls you deep into his arms. You breathe in the familiar smokey scent while controlling the prickling sensation behind your eyes.

“I just want to make sure-” He says, pulling away. “-you two are not the best at picking them out.”

Your mouth falls open, and before your mother can begin to argue, he places his hands over her shoulders and begins to push her out of the kitchen. “Okay! Everybody who does not pay rent here, out. The best guest is the one who does not overstay their welcome, so dale pa’ fuera.” 

He must have been a sheep herder in another life, because in a few seconds, the couch was dropped and a group of bodies occupied the outdoor hallway. 

“Be good, okay? Call me if you need anything.”

“Mami, I’m not even in a different zip code.” You say between strands of wild hair that try to fall into your mouth.

She lets you go from the tight hug, only to pull Carmy down into her embrace. He’s taken back by the sudden action but does his best to reciprocate her kindness.  Once she lets him go and the goodbyes drag on until they’re out of view, your shoulders finally drop with the weight of a deep exhale. Carmy locks the door behind you, stopping at the end of the hallway to assess the damage 'Hurricane Richie’ has caused. His couch is perpendicular to its original position and the tv has been unplugged and pushed far away from the corner where it used to rest. Your easel, however, sits pretty beside the closed window, angled in direction towards the slow rising rays that start to peek through the curtains.

Carmy’s strong arms wrap around you from behind, followed by his warm chest on your back and scattered kisses over your messy hair. A tiny smile begins to grow as you melt into his touch, eyes closed.

“Y’know, you could’ve told him we’re planning to move anyway.” You voice quietly in the finally peaceful home.

You can feel Carmy shrug his shoulders and exhale a soft laugh into your hair. “He needed something to do.”

His hands feel hot once they come in contact with your skin under his sweater. Kisses travel south into the valley of your neck, golden strands tickle the side of your cheek and make you giggle in his hold, while the familiar warmth blossoms to the surface of your chest.

*********

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat, @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 and that’s it lmao

#carmen berzatto x reader #the bear & the fox #carmy berzatto #the bear #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy smut #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #the bear tv #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto smut #carmy x poc reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto fan fiction #jeremy allen white imagine

[endereies]

Fuck it - Matt Sturniolo - Part 8

Spotify playlist:

Summary: Fem!oc x Matt Sturniolo

Growing up with parents who make her feel isolated, what happens when she meets Matt. A person who introduces her to new people, new experiences and new feelings.

Authors notes:

sorry this took like two weeks to finish, school was stressing me out and i couldnt bring myself to write anything major sooo

Warnings: swearing, idfk at this point lol

Word count: 2074

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

“Is this something we are meant to do?”

“Fuck it.”

“Jesus Matt, what took you so lo- oh.” Chris turns to face me, meeting my exhausted expression as I rubbed my face. “Rough night?”

“Alyia and I were messaging all night; I think I slept…? Maybe an hour at best” My eyes immediately side eye Chris when I see him start to smirk at me. “Oh, shut up Chris. At least I’m talking to a girl”

“Nick is quick to stop our bickering by setting some food down in front of Chris and I, one by one. My body slumps down to the chair next to me, my head heavily hitting the pillow underneath me.

I raise an eyebrow to Nick, adjusting myself slowly in my seat.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t fucking burn it this time...” I smile to myself when I hear his sighs, tired of me bringing it up. Nick returns to the kitchen counter to get his own share of waffles, along with some syrup he had previously subsided for himself.

“So, what were you and Alyia chatting about?” Chris’s words emit around and mouth full of food, making me grimace before I think about my answer.

“Just, stuff I guess…nothing special.” An arm leans over my body to pick up a waffle that I then dip into some extra syrup that had dripped off.

“Don’t look at me like that Chris, I can fucking feel you staring.” I glare over to Chris, his eyes already staring into mine. “What…you meet a girl and suddenly you stay out late with her in random places that you wont even tell us about, and you stay up all night talking over the phone with her. You can’t tell me that’s not weird.

“That’s not weird.” I simply roll my eyes once he starts his typical mocking.

“You have to admit Matt, this is really uncommon for you, you don’t even do that with Nate half the time.” Nick shrugs his shoulders, keeping his gaze towards his food.

“Why do you encourage him, Nick…” I let a sigh brush pass my lips and roll my eyes.

Nick goes to speak again but the chime of my phone interrupts him.

Alyia🎸:

‘Hey Matt, are we still down for practice today?’

“Lemme guess, that’s Alyia” Instantly, Chris chimes in and I glare at him again. He instantly holds his hands up by his head in defence, standing up to take his plate to the kitchen. My phone chimes again and I pick it up to respond, I feel Nick’s eyes on me again, so I look at him. I nod my head reluctantly at him showing that Chris was right, not that I would admit that to him.

-

“Hey! Glad to know you came, I didn’t know if you would after the amount that I kept you up last night.” Her words see to mumble as her body becomes closed off to me.

“It’s fine, I’m just surprised that my parents or brothers yelled at me this morning for being awake so long.” A clear attempt at a joke is made yet her tight-lipped smile made me regret my choice of words. “Oh… sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t worry about it, Matt, I’m fairly used to their distancing at this point to be honest, I don’t want you to apologize for anything.” Her smile changes to one of sincerity, making me return it back.

“I just feel bad…you know?”

“Why?” The genuine curiosity confused me. “I have learnt to adapt to them; besides I have some pretty awesome people around me, I’m not in complete solitude.”

Her words linger in my brain, perhaps more than they should.

I’ve learnt to adapt to them.

It sounded too nonchalant for a sentence of high intensity. I had seen this happen multiple times now, especially around her mom. Only, I simply never wanted to pry. The night she stayed over for the first time, her mom called her. The contact’s name was a start, her full legal name was on show with no emojis or care. I thought it was odd but when the voices transferred and mingled over the phone it began a little too clear, no matter how hard she had tried to hide it. The mood swings when she was mentioned was one that I had grown unexpectedly familiar too. I had tried to avoid that topic whenever I could and luckily Nick and Chris hadn’t mentioned it either.

“Matt?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry…” My hand subconsciously rubs the back of neck before wrapping around the chain of my necklace. “What did you say?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to try any of the songs we mentioned last night.”

-

I couldn’t shake this morning all that well, I didn’t know why either. She wasn’t saying anything in a way to make me question it. I didn’t even know the entire story, but I knew enough.

“Uhm, excuse me? You’re Matthew, right?” A steady voice came from beside me as I walked, dragging me from my thoughts. My body turns to face where the sound comes from, and I notice a boy about my age walking by my side.

“Yeah? Can I help you.” I slow my pace down to a more comfortable pace and I pay attention to him, the slight smile below the glasses which round his face, the darker skin matching his black hair which was tied into loose dreads. He wore a lot of leather, patched with badges and band logos which for the most part were recognisable to me.

“Actually yeah, were you the one who played drums at the talent show two or so months ago?”

“With Damien, Jess and Martha? I was, why?” I get intrigued the more I listen to his voice and the rasps that emit every few words.

“Miss Ackley has been putting together some type of music club shit, after school! She asked a few of us to get together some people who might be interested in joining a band or any form of music club to enhance skill.” His words ramble together, and I try and comprehend them as best as I can.

“Like a band camp?” My eyebrow raises at him, and we pause when I reach my locker, trying to show my interest while putting the pin for it in.

“Sorta, we are planning a ‘band camp’ trip for the end of the year but for now it’s a space to form bands and people to adapt our skill sets in.” He can tell I’m hesitant over this, I mean this is what I have Alyia for, right?

“We aren’t looking for any answers today, simply that you consider it. And if it isn’t your ideal situation, then you could share this to anyone who might be interested.” A flyer stands between me and the boy, decorated in deep yellows and blues spreading behind multiple instruments and equipment.

“I’ll have a look into that, thanks.”

“Of course, if you have any questions about it, my number is at the bottom of that sheet.” He beams at me, and I just look down to find the number, taking my time since my lack of sleep affects my vision.

After that he walks away with a small wave from his wrist, but my gaze heavily remains on the paper in my hand. Everything seems manually drawn to match each other and I admire the colours and patterns before my eyes trace the text. My body walks forward towards the music room, letting muscle memory take over while I keep reading over things. After a paragraph or so I look at the number again and notice a name marked next to it – Benjamin.

My hand reaches the door handle and I push it open to meet Alyia. Her hands tracing over each string gently to produce a small hum, barely audible from her headphones. I stand there for a bit watching her play, she just seemed so relaxed but that could just be the lack of sleep. The small hair stands which fall slowly don’t seem to bother her as she keeps strumming softly.

“Are you going to keep staring or what” her voice grabs my attention even though her body doesn’t change position until her sentence is over.

“Oh, uhm sorry.” I mutter before swiftly moving and shutting the door behind me, placing my bag next to the leather seats.

“Have you been handed one of these yet?” I lay the sheet onto the seat next to her and watch as she stops playing and sets down her guitar. Her headphones now rest on her neck as she scans the paper.

“What is this?” She shoots a confused look at me, but I try not to pay too much attention to it.

“Just read it and find out…” I playfully roll my eyes at Alyia and move to sit over by my drum kit.

“Band camp? That’s some corny shit, don’t tell me you’re going to that ‘camp rock’ shit.” She tries to joke but her face falters when I don’t reciprocate her smile.

“Actually, I was…and it’s not ‘camp rock’. It’s a social place to help practice with other people, and then a summer camp at the end of the year to go and meet professionals and go to a festival to perform.”

“Oh...my bad.” A brief and awkward silence falls over us until I decide to speak again.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to join me but…” I swing side to side on my chair as my voice dims down.

“Matt, I don’t like crowds and besides I practice solo. This isn’t something I am exactly interested in.”

“You practice with me fine enough?” I try and convince her a little, but she only rolls her eyes at me.

“You’re different, you know that.” She pauses abruptly to stare me noticing my immediate smile. “Don’t let that get your head.”

“Too late for that.” I remain smirking at her, but Alyia just glares at me back, I move past that pretty quick and relax my body down on my seat.

“C’mon” I drag out the syllables as I talk, getting up to stand in front of her. “It could be real fun, extra practice between us…and other people of course.”

“Okay. Don’t say it like that first of all.” Her voice quiets after her words and I attempt to gain her attention back with a slight wave of my hand.

“And second?” my face relaxes from its previous smile and changes to a more curious one.

“Second of all…I’ll think about it…” Alyia’s words soften and are quiet due to her admission.

“Yes!” my stupid smile is met with her own as I jump from my seat and pick up the information sheet by her side and start to ramble through the text.

Alyia pov:

I don’t even know why I had given in to matt so easily, but I guess I just didn’t want to let him down. He seemed so excited and yet I wasn’t, I can’t remember the last time I ever played music in front of anyone, except Matt. The more he rambled next to me, the less of his words I remembered. I heard his voice clearly, but I was internally planning what situations might arise if I did show up. It didn’t seem like a lot but as someone who has been separated from people most of their life, this was a big deal.

The bell rang and made both Matt and I jump at the sudden sound that echoed through the hallways.

Matt grabs a few of his things and places them back into his bag and slides the sheet back over to rest next to my leg.

“Promise me you’ll consider it? At least…” his eyes stare into mine, almost begging me to think about it, as if he can’t handle his own in a small crowd of people.

“Fine. Only because you asked me alright?” I stand up and swing my bag over my shoulder.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” The nickname catches me off guard, like it has every other time, and he smiles at the shocked expression on my face and walks away quickly.

My body stays still in its position for a short while longer, processing the nickname. He hasn’t done it without some sort of comforting context to it and this was different.

And in public.

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @sturniolosmind @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @raysmayhem-72 @luverboychris

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

[rainba]

Can you please make male version of Lucas fic??? TwT

This one's for both you and @bunnyboysrus!

And also, for @x-v0id-x :3c (He's starting to make his own yandere OCs, so please check him out if you want to!!) ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Animalistic Instincts ღ

TWs: breeding kink, dubcon (?), silencing via fingers shoved in mouth, dirty talk, Luka being Luka.

Male reader version!

NSFW, 18+ only!

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

Luka is a man who typically never loses his composure. He’s almost always calm, careful, manipulative, and smart to some degree. It’s something that he takes pride in.

…However, as a man born half-fox, there are days where the animal within him likes to take control. Every year when winter rolls around, that’s when his heat takes over him. And when that happens, he can no longer think for himself– he just goes wherever his dick takes him.

There are some times where he can be rational. Luka can still reasonably cook, clean, work, and take care of both you and him. However, he needs to fuck multiple times between tasks, which is a little inconvenient. He can still function overall, though.

But… There are days where his mind turns into total mush, and all he can think about is fucking you raw.

Luka knows that it’s gonna be a rough day when he wakes up and his first thoughts are centered around how badly he wants to breed you.

God, the idea of it all sounds so damn enticing to him. He’ll fuck you over and over again until you can’t walk, stuffing you full of his hot seed as he lovingly rubs your stomach. He knows full-well that you can’t actually get pregnant or anything, but god, his horny mind loves to pretend that you can.

“We’re going to have so many kids,” He’ll growl darkly as he savagely thrusts his cock deep inside of you, shoving his cum further in as he locks your hips in place. At some point, you’ll lose count of how many rounds of sex you’ve had. 

“We’ll adopt a few kids… Have a huge family.”

If you whine and tell him that you don’t want any kids, he’ll silence you by shoving his fingers deep inside your throat. You obviously don’t mean that…! You’re just a little confused and worn-out, that’s all. So instead of whining and saying things you don’t mean, how about you suck on his fingers and take his cock like a good boy?

After a couple rounds have passed and you’re thoroughly tired and overstimulated, Luka will start to slow down… But he doesn’t stop. Instead, he’ll just lay you down on your side and he’ll curl up behind you, raising one of your legs as he sensually fucks your ass. His breath is hot and heavy as he buries his face into your neck. 

Luka's cum would be, quite literally, overflowing out of you and spilling onto the bed, but that doesn’t stop him. The animal inside of him demands that he keeps going until he physically collapses.

Also, it doesn’t matter if you feel all hot, sweaty, and disgusting– Luka downright refuses to let you take a shower. However, he will let you lay in bed as he takes a wet rag and wipes you down. His one rule is that you’re absolutely not allowed to clean up his cum.

Afterwards, Luka will be sure to comfort you if you’re upset. It’ll all be okay…! When the two of you adopt children, Luka will be the best father he can be. He’ll spoil all of you– you don’t have to worry about him not paying enough attention to you! Just think about all of the happy times you’ll have together. So nice and sweet.

…But when tomorrow rolls around, if his mind isn’t mush anymore, the delayed post-nut regret will hit him like a speeding train. He’d consider apologizing, but… Honestly? Even when he’s not insanely horny, the idea of starting a family with you still sounds nice. So, he wouldn’t relent on the idea of adoption.

#ask #luka posting #yandere male

[ya-boi-ferals]

Was able to create these redesigns while we had nothin to do in classes. Im tryin to slowly make myself fall in love with art again and my hyperfixation on mlp redesigns are helpin me do that >:'] ...and oh boi this is gon be a long post feel free to read my rewrites ehe

I had so much fun through the whole process for this one! (Tbh the mane 5 becomin more like semi ocs now) For my version, Pipp is more of an actress/performer who does multiple side gigs and hobbies. Shes basically the city's "angelic sweet girl" since shes known for playing a soft and whimsical persona, often doing her iconic closed in ears and faded voice to give a more innocent look for the public. Her attitude is no different in private but she forces herself to stay too positive even when shes in need of relieving some strong emotions. Im not a fan of Pipp being a stereotypical phone addict in the show so I instead headcannoned her as neurodivergent and needing a distraction everytime or else she gets all panicky when shes doesnt have anything to do, she tends to overshare info, forgets to rest, known to take other's spotlight away and dissociate a lot (especially when reading fan comments) Shes disabled and uses formed cloud wings designed by her sister.

As for her redesign, I made her mane to be more stylish as a way to show her expertise on hairstylin. Her tail and tiara is rose shaped to go with her last name "Petals". And her colour pallete is brownish purple and powdered pink to give her character a more softer feel.

Lmaoo I have a lot to say- Anyways heres an old piece i made for zipp Im still confused how to draw her hair patterns...

In my ver. Zipp is well known for bein hardworkin and intelligent. Shes not ready to be queen and often "slacks off" with her main royal duties but she organizes and fixes problems happening outside the castle by talking to the staffs. Shes extremely curious and learns a lot of random detailed infos since she was young which ended up makin her become great at managing situations happening in and out the city, which is why her mother is so persistent on makin her the next queen. Zipp is a solutionist and researcher but she only focuses on what catches her interest before goin on the to next. (Ngl all the mane 5 are neurodivergent to me) Because of how determined she is on those interest, shes made several secret places to avoid just doin main work. Her fav studies are chemistry, physics, cosmology, ecology and aeronautics. Shes mysterious to the public eye but her friends know that shes just a bundle of hyperactive mess once she starts discovering smth new. I assume og Zipp is secretly non-binary coded but for my version, shes a transmare and everypony already knows and accepts it.

I gave her a more light pink and blue green mane colour. Her bangs are like sherlock holmes' as to pay homage for zipp bein a detective in the series along with some side braids. I also gave her twilight freckles and tired,soft looking eyes (not only cuz shes a workaholic like Pipp but its also cuz of genetics)

Aight, I was never really a fan for givin the mane cast just one element and the fact that G5 series havent showed any mentions of it just made it seem unimportant. Soo I instead gave them multiple elements that the mane 5 will develop as their journey goes on. Pipp will be the element of Strength, Purity, Assurance, Control, Pride, Value, etc. While Zipp is the element of Curiosity, Determination, Potential, Wonderment, Eagerness, Persistence, etc. (I imagine if twilight would have ever come back from the dead she would most likely write down what their elements would be as she observes the mane 5)

#mlp gen 5 #my little pony #mlp redesign #mlp art #artist on tumblr #mlp rewrite #redesigns #rewrite #art #I dont even like G5 much but damn I cant stop hyperfixatin on what the potential could have been #next time u will see me writin a bible- #school be damned my love for art is slowly comin back #digital art