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dawn-moths · 8 months

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Turquoise & Temptations

Neuvillette x Female Reader

word count: 2600+

(Being the girl of Fontaine’s Chief Justice has its ups and downs, but one thing is for certain— the time you two spend together in Neuvillette’s office at the end of a long workday, whether he’s filing some last minute paperwork or simply taking a moment of peace and quiet before heading home, always has the opportunity to get interesting…)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, semi-public sex (you’re in his office but the door’s not locked), size difference, daddy kink, mention of punishment with no actual punishment, reader is called “sweetheart, princess, good girl, baby”, minimal prep, some aftercare.

*ao3 mirror*

***

You shifted your position sitting in Neuvillette’s lap, straddling him with the skirts of your dress bunched up and your lace-clad core pressed against where his own growing arousal had begun to jut from his pants, trying to be sly in grinding your needy sex harder down against him, as if he’d even have a chance to miss it.

You’ve been like this for a while now— cradled against his chest and nearly dozing off while he finishes up some last minute paperwork at his desk, lashes fluttering with oncoming sleep, lips slightly parted as your breathing began to grow slow and shallow— but it was technically his fault for getting you so worked up in the first place.

He’d started it, after all, causing you to jolt back to consciousness when you felt his cock twitch in his trousers as your weight had settled overtop his lap with just enough pressure to stir something a little less professional in him.

He clicks his tongue at you, but it’s not with annoyance. It’s with that condescending adoration that tends to weave through his tone whenever you get impatient, unable to let him finish his work before distracting him with your body and the fantasy of all the ways he wants to have you.

Because, while he may have been guilty of starting things, you were far more guilty of instigating, hiking your dress up higher to allow you more room to spread your thighs wider over his own, rocking forward and arching your back a bit until you found just the right place to satisfy your own needs.

At least, they’d be satisfied for a little while. You both knew before long you’d grow needy and demand more for him, tearing the Chief Justice from his more official duties and encouraging him to engage in some more personal affairs.

“Daddy’s almost done, sweetheart,” he cooed, one hand wielding a shiny gold fountain pen and scribbling off his tight-scrawled, looping signature on the dotted line while the other rested on the small of your back, keeping you in place, as if you had any intention of trying to leave. “Just be patient for a little while longer and then I’ll—”

His promise was cut off by a strangled whine caught in his throat, not missing the devious way your gloss-shined lips were curving into a defiant little smirk. His stunning gunmetal gaze leveled on you, his next signature left abandoned halfway through on the parchment as he held your stare, testing you now, daring you to keep going before he gave you permission.

If you did, he might just have to punish you, bend you over his desk and fuck you fast and hard till there were tears in those pretty little doe-eyes of yours, forcing you to keep quiet with a big, leather gloved hand clasped over your open mouth, biting back his own moans the best he could until he felt like you’d learned your lesson.

You seemed to foresee this possibility, so you kept still, your throat bobbing with a hard, anticipatory swallow, your pussy throbbing at the thought of it, and waiting for Neuvillette to resume his writing. He cleared his throat and concluded his signature, dotting the i and crossing the double t’s a little more aggressively than he had previously, the quick tap and scritch of the pen’s sharp nib marking the page in ebony ink making you flinch a tiny bit.

You thought he was finally finished when he gathered up the thick stack of papers in both hands and shuffled them on the surface of the marble desk, smoothing them all in perfect order before tying them with a piece of cobalt twine and sealing the documents with a wax stamp of shimmering silver, ready to be picked up and sent off to wherever it was the court transcripts went once he was done with them, but then he seemed to begin with a whole new stack, this one even taller and wordier than the last, so you couldn’t help but huff out a breath of blatant indignance.

Neuvillette hummed out a low, lilting chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours as you pressed yourself closer to him, tugging at the lapels of his coat and whimpering in protest. “Don’t worry, princess…” he assured you. “I’m just getting things in order for tomorrow.”

“And how long will that take…?” you muttered under your breath, thinking you might act out and risk the consequences depending on his answer.

But then you felt both of his gloved hands on you, long fingers flexing where they held your hips, sending a momentary confusion through you when he seemed to be pulling you down harder against him rather than shifting you away for your backtalk.

“Tell you what,” he began, his voice, normally so authoritative and commanding in the courtroom, turned honey-sweet and soothing when it came to you, even when you were insisting on being a little bit of a needy brat. “You let me get ahead of tomorrow’s work—” He held up a finger to signal silence as your mouth fell open in premature protest. “You let me get ahead of tomorrow’s work,” he repeated, pausing for a second and raising his eyebrows slightly, challenging you to try and interrupt again, “and I’ll let you have your way until I’m done.”

You cocked your head at him, eyes narrowed and mouth twitching into a crooked frown of pondering, wondering if this was some kind of test or not. Then it was his turn to catch you off guard, rocking his hips up into yours and causing you to emit a stuttering gasp as you felt just how hard his length had become, your eyes fluttering and beginning to roll from the sudden jolt of pleasure, your body surging with the need for more, more more, sheer, unadulterated want racing through your blood like sparks of white-hot electricity.

“Go on…” he smugly directed you, his eyes flicking from your face down to where your two bodies sought each other out and back again. Then, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear, his lips barely brushing the shell of it and causing a gentle shudder to skitter up your spine, he teasingly murmured, “Just be sure not to make too much noise. I’m pretty sure I left the door unlocked and, well…”

And, well, if anyone heard your high-pitched moans muffled from the other side of the double doors, they might creep up closer to investigate, maybe even dare to enter after giving the customary knock of courtesy and find you in a state you’d be mortified for anyone besides Neuvillette to see you in.

“I’ll be quiet,” you muttered back, unable to hide the excitement that was flooding your chest more and more by the second, your eager little fingers fumbling with his belt buckle, the gentle clink of the silver against your freshly manicured nails— this week a shade of pale turquoise— echoing quietly throughout the spacious office room until finally you were able to tug the leather strap free so it could dangle from the sides of the loops in his pristinely pressed trousers.

Pristine, of course, except for the damp spot left on his crotch, both of your intermingled arousal staining through to ruin his expensive work attire.

That was alright with Neuvillette though. Whether it was his clothes or your own that got ruined during these acts, he could always just buy more. To him, a constantly updated wardrobe was a small price to pay for how good it felt when he was inside you, suddenly wishing he’d decided to leave early that day so you two could finish this in your shared master bedroom of his estate, no need to keep quiet in the slightest as he forced melodic mewls and euphoric moans from your pretty little mouth, drinking them in, drowning in them, completely addicted.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised you, pressing a chaste, tender peck to your temple before continuing on with his work.

Once you’d pulled his cock free of its constraints, Neuvillette had to remind himself to keep his own sounds of pleasure quiet as well, gulping down the groan he already felt rising in his chest as you ran your soft little hands up and down the length of him, appearing entranced as you admired the blushing pink tip, pearly pre-cum already drooling out onto your palms, every vein and ridge of his velvety member practically committed to your memory, and making your dripping little hole flutter in anticipation.

Neuvillette gripped the gold fountain pen in his hand a little tighter, his stomach muscles flinching as you guided his cock between your soaked folds, the lace of your drenched panties giving just enough friction to make him crazy, melting his sharp mind into something dull and hazy with the slow dripping pleasure, his breath beginning to come out in short, panting huffs rather than the sure, steady, and stoic way he usually carried himself.

“God—” he exhaled, strangled and struggling to keep his composure. You grinded yourself down harder against him, your own angelic sighs of satisfaction fanning over the bit of exposed skin on his neck and making his cock pulse in your grip. Then he couldn’t take it anymore, reaching down to hook his thumbs into the thin, delicate waistband of your lace panties and tearing them off with one harsh, hungry tug.

And he always said you were the one who was too impatient.

“I can’t focus with you around,” he was practically growling, stealing his cock away from your clumsy little hands and guiding it by the base until he felt the tip catch on your tight little hole, tugging another sharp gasp from your throat, using the other hand to nudge you forward to sink further down onto his cock.

You bit your tongue as you felt a moan clawing its way up your chest, knowing he’d been serious when he’d told you to keep quiet— for both his sake and yours— but you couldn’t hold it in. Burying your face in his shoulder, you cried out as he forced himself the rest of the way in with one quick, stinging thrust, splitting you in two and causing fat, sparkling tears to well in your blurring vision from the sudden, burning stretch of him nestled so deep inside of you.

You felt his body relax a fraction then, shedding some of that animalistic desire and allowing him to return to the safety of the sweet, soft-spoken Daddy that you knew him to be, running a hand up and down you back in slow, soothing motions as he muttered out little apologies like, “Sorry for being so rough with you, sweetheart,” and “Daddy just couldn’t take it anymore. But don’t worry. I’m going to make it all up to you now,” until you raised your head from its hiding place in his shoulder and let him pepper loving little kisses to your neck, his mouth trailing down to the plush, flushed flesh of your exposed cleavage and sucking a little there, giving you some time to adjust to the feeling of being so painfully full of him.

“Please…” you exhaled, voice cracked and broken with another whine of pleasure as the aching in your core twisted even tighter, a cord about to snap. “Please, Daddy… I need you. Please…”

And Neuvillette didn’t wait a second longer to start rolling his hips up into you again, slow and steady at first, tugging one of his gloves free with his teeth and tossing it to land on his desk so he could feel every part of you, running the rough pad of his thumb over your pulsing, swollen clit and clenching his jaw as he winced, feeling your insides squeeze around him in that painfully sweet way you both loved so much.

“That’s it…” he encouraged, rocking up into you a little harder then as the pressure of his circles increased, knowing neither of you had much longer to go now, his voice laced with something raspy and borderline feral. “Good girl… Just like that— Archons, baby—”

You were biting the fabric of Neuvillette’s coat between your teeth, doing your best to ride him in tandem with his skillful ministrations until you were seizing up and coming undone for the first time that evening, your legs trembling and your muscles constricted as more of your glistening slick dripped down in thick, dewy strands to stain the inside of your thighs and his trousers, his cock pulsing where it was still buried deep inside your tender cunt.

He was filling you to the brim mere seconds later, the familiar flood of his viscous, sticky warmth filling your tummy and soothing you from the inside out. As you slumped in his arms, Neuvillette held you close, running the fingers of his untarnished, gloved hand through your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, tracing little patterns into the soft skin between your shoulder blades where there was a diamond cutout in your dress’s back as he helped you through the comedown.

Once he’d gone completely soft inside of you, he placed both hands under your thighs and carefully lifted you from his lap and onto the top of his desk, pushing the papers that still littered it to the far end before instructing you to lay back so he could clean you up. At least, to the best of his ability given all he really had on hand at the moment was a handkerchief.

You flinched as the cool marble of the desktop met the backs of your bare arms, exhaling a shuddering breath through your nose as the cold air of the room kissed your exposed, soaked pussy, sending yet another chill through you.

“I know, baby…” Neuvillette cooed, giving the crisp, satiny handkerchief in his hand a quick whip so it could unfurl, starting his tender, meticulous work in caring for his favorite girl after she was so spent. “I’ll draw you a nice, warm bath once we get home, so just bare it a little longer, alright?”

As he wiped as much slick from between your legs as he could, attempting to attend to himself afterward but giving up halfway, just thankful the length of his coat would cover any lingering evidence, you felt like you could drift off to sleep again, eyelids growing heavy as the surface of the desk gradually warmed beneath you from your radiating body heat.

But you couldn’t sleep here. Not now. Because not five seconds after Neuvillette had helped you off the desk and back on your own two wobbly, tired legs, straightening out your skirts and smoothing down the front of his closed coat, there was the tell-tale knocking of one of the courthouse’s interns at the office door.

You gave your Daddy a look of concern and alarm, unsure of how much evidence of what you two had done was left in the open, but Neuvillete just flashed you a cocky grin and called out for them to enter, quietly telling you to take a seat in the big, plush armchair behind his desk as he grabbed up the papers and hurried to meet the intern halfway to hand them off, engaging in a short, pleasant conversation before sending them on their way and hopefully none the wiser.

“Alright, princess,” he beckoned you, reapproaching to offer you a hand as you stood from the chair. “Let’s go home.”

Just before allowing you to lock your arm with his like you usually did, Neuvillette knelt down and picked up a piece of shredded, icy blue lace fabric— the remnants of one of your favorite pair of panties, destroyed with his impatiently eager hands— and shoved it into his pocket.

He’d owe you new ones, plus interest, for having torn them up without any warning, but you didn’t necessarily mind.

You just hoped the next time you two did something like this in his office during work hours, he remembered to lock the door.

***

(Anyone else also sort of obsessing over some of the new Fontaine guys, or just me lol

I definitely see myself writing more for Neuvillette in the future, especially as we learn more about him.

Anyway, like always, thank you so much for reading. Have a wonderful day! <3)

#neuvillette #neuvillette genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact fanfics #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette smut #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction

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haezen · 6 months

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pairing: lucifer x gn!mc

word count: 1k

summary: you and lucifer get into an argument, and you block him as he's typing.

set in obey me nightbringer (but there are no spoilers!)

To put it simply, you have been exhausted as of late. With the brothers running you ragged, and midterms approaching at RAD, your patience has worn dangerously thin.

And apparently, so has Lucifer’s.

Lucifer:

Did you forget something?

You:

Not that I recall. Why?

Lucifer:

Well, obviously you have forgotten. So, I’ll gladly remind you.

Satan must have been lent you some of his tomes. And YOU forgot to put them back where they belong. Safely tucked away.

They are scattered all over the living room along with the papers you’ve scribbled all over. Come over at once and clean up your mess.

Annoyance bubbled in your gut at the request — no, his demand.

You’re lounging on the couch with takeout on the way and thanks to Solomon, a hot bath (with bubbles) awaits you. If you were to go over to the House of Lamentation to fulfill Lucifer’s demand, the night you had planned for yourself would be ruined. With a glance at the time, you notice that it’s approaching midnight and there’s no fucking way you are leaving the comfort of the couch to attend to any of the brother’s needs.

And the last thing you need right now is to be on the receiving end of one of Lucifer’s lectures through text.

You:

No. Not now.

Lucifer:

It wasn’t a suggestion. Come over to the House of Lamentation now.

You:

I said no, Lucifer. It’s late and I’ve had a long day.

Lucifer:

And you think I haven’t had a long day?

What makes you think I want to come out of my office to see the mess you have left all over the living room?

I don’t think I have to remind you that you’re also our attendant.

You:

That doesn’t make me your maid. Listen, I’m sorry for not cleaning up after myself but I’ll clean it up tomorrow.

Lucifer:

I’m not going to tell you a third time.

. . .

As his message comes through and the three little dots pop up that signal he’s still typing, you decide that you are done for the night. You refuse to put yourself through more of this torture and to get under his skin, you block him.

You throw your phone on the couch, force yourself to stand up from your position, and head to the bathroom to take a bath. The time it takes to undress and get into the tub is almost record time. The water instantly warms your skin. It’s the perfect temperature. Solomon also didn’t forget to set the atmosphere. There are candles lit all around the bathroom which only adds to the flowery scent emanating from the bubbles. You slide down further into the tub until the water encapsulates you from your shoulders down.

You’re not sure how long you were asleep until the sound of a door slamming shut startles you awake.

“Solomon?”

The silence that follows makes your heart start pounding. It’s unlike him to not announce his arrival and peek in to see what you’re up to. With a pounding heart and a lump in your throat, you call out for him again.

Nothing.

The water sloshes and spills out over the edge of the tub as you move to get out. There’s no time to dry off as your nerves start to get the best of you. You snatch your satin robe, a gift from Asmo, off its hook and tie it around your waist once you shrug it on.

The urgency in your footsteps is evident as you come hauling ass into the living room. A figure looms in the darkness of the hallway and you move towards it without a second thought.

“What the fuck!” You shout, pushing who you think is Solomon back a few steps. He stumbles but regains his balance almost instantly and you flick the light switch on.

Instead of being met with Solomon’s gentle and teasing smile, you are met with the eldest brother in his demon form. And he’s furious.

Anger still swirls deep in your gut, but it’s nothing compared to the undeniable rage emanating from Lucifer. You’re frozen in your spot as Lucifer inches closer to tower over you.

“Think you can just ignore my messages? That you can block me whenever you please?” His crimson eyes are glazed over and a scowl is set in stone on his face. It’s at this moment that you realize there’s nothing that you could say to calm him down. And that thought alone absolutely thrills you.

“Why can’t I? Because I’m your attendant or because I’m ‘yours’?” You say defiantly, tilting your chin up to prove that you aren’t scared of him. “Last I checked, I’m off the clock.”

“Last I checked, you are mine.” Lucifer snarls. “Or have you forgotten that as well?”

“It’s pathetic that you think I belong to you and you alone, Lucifer. Don’t I attend to all of you?”

“Pathetic?” He tilts his head and oh, you’ve fucked up. He takes hold of the straps of your robe and grips them firmly before he tugs, forcing you to take a step towards him. He’s so close that you can feel his hot breath fanning your face and the air feels as though it’s been sucked straight out of your lungs. You’re hoping that he’ll release his grip on your robe, but he doesn’t.

He leans down to whisper into your ear, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. “Shall I remind you?” Lucifer tightens his grip on your robe to further emphasize his point. “Since you so obviously need to be taught a lesson.”

You hesitate to respond, stunned at his change in behavior. But as he returns to standing tall above you, eyes piercing into yours, you know he’s still pissed. You, a human who is no match for a demon as powerful and infamous as Lucifer, dare to challenge him? As the Avatar of Pride, there’s no way Lucifer could ever let that slide.

“Apologize.”

“Excuse me?”

“Apologize for being an asshole and maybe I’ll let you stay for the night.”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking. But you continue.

“There’s absolutely no reason for you to ever speak to me that way. Haven’t I been good to you, Luci? You deserved to be blocked for how you acted.” You place your hands on his chest, smoothing down his perfectly ironed button down shirt. His eyes follow your actions, as if he’s actually considering to step down from his pedestal and apologize.

“So won’t you be a good boy and apologize for interrupting my bath? And for being an asshole?” You grin up at him, sliding your hands down from his chest to grab his own, where they are still gripping your robe. “And maybe go out and get me some dinner while you’re at it, since you left my takeout outside in the cold?”

“Do I look like your attendant?”

“Yeah. Though I would definitely prefer you to wear your uniform.” You nod, unable to stop your grin from widening. He’s already fallen for it.

“Get your hands off me. You’re not allowed to touch me until you’ve apologized.”

He listens immediately and retracts from you as though your skin burns to the touch.

“So?”

“Sorry.” He mutters so quietly, you could barely hear it if not for the close proximity.

“What?” You tease, leaning in closer. “Say that again for me? A little louder?”

His gloved hands make contact with your face and his lips meet yours in a clash. His kisses are desperate, rushed, and sloppy which sets your insides ablaze at his fervor. He rarely loses control, so to see it for yourself...

When you pull back for air and open your eyes, Lucifer’s smug expression makes you want to smack him.

“Sorry.” He repeats as he lifts a thumb to wipe your spit from his bottom lip. “I just wanted to see you. You’re the only person I wanted to be with tonight.”

#haezen writes!#lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me scenarios #lucifer morningstar #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer x mc #lucifer x you #obey me shall we date

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totheblood · 7 months

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begging for rain. (three)

󠁐# THREE; the harder that it takes to undo

PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader

SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

A/N : ok this was the longest chapter i've written to date so... please enjoy.... ONE AI AUDIOS IN THE FIC ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!

TWO YEARS AGO

It felt weird to be in Ellie’s house.

Ellie opened the door to a cozy living room with warm beige walls and wicker furniture that had been well-worn by time. An old acoustic guitar leaned against one wall and a record player sat atop an end table, surrounded by piles of vintage vinyl. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee and old books, creating a comforting ambiance. Family photos and posters dotted the walls, giving an insight into Ellie's life that made you feel like a intruder but also made you want to know more.

"Nice place," you said, removing your shoes at the door.

"Thanks," Ellie smiled, leading you to the living room. "You can drop your stuff there. We'll study at the table."

You took a seat at the sturdy oak dining table and ran your fingers over its smooth surface before settling into it. Scattered papers littered the table, some lined with handwritten lyrics, others with doodles intertwined in colored ink. You opened up your English books and laid out your homework, feeling a sense of warmth emanating from the room. The aged furniture added an air of familiarity, like you were being invited into Ellie's private world. Ellie seemed to be working on physics homework, while you had an English essay on Shakespeare to tackle. The juxtaposition wasn't lost on you—Ellie with equations and you with Elizabethan English.

You both settled into your work, the atmosphere tinged with concentration. Occasionally, your eyes would drift towards Ellie, watching her brows furrow in thought or her lips move silently as she read through her notes. Each time, you'd catch yourself and refocus on your own work.

"So, how are you finding the essay?" she finally broke the silence.

"It's... okay, I guess. Mrs. Porter has a way of making Shakespeare sound like rocket science."

Ellie chuckled. "Ah, the age-old struggle. To be or not to be confused, that is the question."

You laughed, and for a moment, the tension of the day seemed to lift. "You're not so bad at this, you know," you said. "Maybe you should consider a career in stand-up."

"And give up my dream of becoming a rockstar physicist?" she feigned surprise. "Never."

You smiled at her enthusiasm. "A rockstar physicist, huh? That's a first."

"Well, what about you? Any grand plans?"

You hesitated, thinking about your dad for a moment. You blinked, looking down at the book in front of you before looking back up at Ellie. "I'm not sure. I used to think I had it all figured out, but now... everything's so uncertain."

Ellie put down her pen and looked at you, her green eyes softening. "Uncertainty isn't always bad, you know. Sometimes it's just room for something new, something better."

You looked at her, really looked at her, and felt something shift inside you. "That's pretty wise for a 17-year-old."

She blushed a little, turning her attention back to her notebook. "Well, don't spread it around. I have a reputation to maintain. Plus, I’m almost 18."

The rest of the study session went smoothly. You’d occasionally sigh and drop your head in frustration, making Ellie stifle a giggle and demand you get back to work. You had only known her for a day and was already falling into a rhythm with her. You didn’t want to go home, but the sun was beginning to set and you wanted time to rest. Time to think about the day you had and try to make sense of it. When it was time to leave, Ellie walked you to the door.

"Thanks for coming over. It was fun," she said, her hands twisting together.

"Yeah, I had a good time too," you replied, feeling a strange mix of happiness and reluctance to leave.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, Ellie's words echoed in your mind: "Uncertainty isn't always bad... it's just room for something new, something better." And as you walked back across the dirt path to your house, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, something new and better had already begun.

You walked into your room, shutting the door behind you as if to seal off the world outside. It was your sanctuary, a little haven where you could breathe, think, and just be. You tossed your backpack onto the bed and sank into your chair, letting out a sigh as you looked around. Your room was still a mix of unpacked boxes and half-arranged furniture—a physical representation of your current state of mind, unsettled yet hopeful.

Picking up your phone, you noticed you had an unread Instagram DM. Your heart skipped a beat; could it be Ellie? Unlocking your phone, you saw the message was from Ingrid. Curiosity piqued, you opened.

ingrid.xoxo: Hey there, newbie. How was your first day?

You felt strange reading her message. Like it was something you weren’t supposed to be doing. Was she just being friendly or was there something more? You quickly typed back.

y/nsworld: hey! It was a little overwhelming but good overall. how was your day?

Almost instantly, she replied.

ingrid.xoxo: Same old, same old. But seeing a fresh face around made it more interesting. 😉

The winking emoji caught your attention. Was she flirting? A little flutter of excitement mixed with confusion settled in your stomach.

Before you could process it further, the front door opened and closed loudly. It was your mom, finally home from work. You heard her footsteps coming up the stairs, and a few seconds later, she knocked on your door.

"Come in," you called.

The door swung open and your mom stepped in, her face tired but lighting up when she saw you. "Hey, sweetheart. How was your first day at the new school?"

You looked at her and smiled. "It was good, Mom. Made some new friends, and Ellie from next door is really nice. I went there and studied after school."

"That's wonderful," she said, her eyes shining with relief. "I was so worried you'd have a hard time adjusting."

"I mean, it's still the first day, but so far, so good," you said, shrugging. The relief on your mom’s face made you uneasy. You wanted to make this transition easy for both of you, but there was a newfound pressure building inside of you. You had to make it work here, even if you were unhappy. There was no escaping this place, and you suddenly felt trapped. Before your mind could go any further, she was speaking again.

"That's my brave girl," she said, coming over to give you a hug. "I'm so proud of you."

As she left the room and wished you a goodnight with a firm kiss pressed to the top of your head, you sat back and sighed. Your phone buzzed again. Another message from Ingrid.

ingrid.xoxo: So, got any plans for the weekend? Maybe you'd like a tour guide to show you around. 😊

There it was again, that undercurrent of something more than just friendliness. You found yourself smiling, both intrigued and uncertain. It was as if life, in its own whimsical way, was presenting new possibilities, each more complicated than the last.

You glanced back at the door, then at your phone, then at the unpacked boxes still sitting in your room. Everything felt like a question mark, and as Ellie had wisely noted, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Lying back on your bed, you stared up at the ceiling, pondering your response to Ingrid, your new friendships, and the unpredictability of life itself. Uncertainty, as it turns out, could indeed be the room for something new, something better.

And so, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, you typed out your reply to Ingrid, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself.

y/nsworld: a tour guide sounds fun. i'm in. :)

PRESENT DAY

When Ellie's text popped up on your phone two days ago, you almost deleted it without reading it. The mere sight of her name on your screen was like a splinter you couldn't remove—small but persistently painful. She wrote that she missed your friendship, and though you wanted to scoff at her audacity, a part of you hesitated. Her words, "Can we at least talk? Just as friends?" echoed in your mind. Against your better judgment, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, and before you knew it, you found yourself typing, "Fine, but this doesn't mean anything." Now, as you stepped into the quaint coffee shop where so many of your past memories were brewed, you questioned that decision.

"You're early," Ellie remarked, her voice as flat as the expression on her face.

"I had nothing better to do," you responded, matching her tone as you stepped into the coffee shop. It was almost empty, the aroma of freshly ground coffee mingling with the subtle tension that had settled between you two.

"Of course, you didn't," Ellie sighed, sliding a cup of coffee your way across the wooden table. On it was marked with your order, two pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of vanilla, and one pump of almond, extra cream.

You looked at the cup, then back at Ellie. "You remembered how I like my coffee."

"I'm not completely useless."

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip while simultaneously biting your tongue. You had every right to tell her she was useless, but you refrained. It was perfect, just the way you liked it. "What do you want, Ellie?"

Ellie sighed, looking uncomfortable for a moment before speaking, "I wanted to talk. About us."

You almost snorted into your coffee. "Us? There is no 'us'. Not anymore."

"I know I messed up, okay? But can't we at least—"

"Messed up?" you cut her off, feeling the familiar surge of anger rise within you. "You didn't just 'mess up', Ellie. You broke something. Something that can't be fixed."

Ellie flinched as if you had slapped her. The look on her face almost making you feel guilty. But she didn’t have that right anymore, and you weren’t about to let her back in.

"I know. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life. But can't we at least try to be civil? For the sake of our friends, if not for us?"

You looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment you were back in her living room, struggling with physics homework and discussing the uncertainties of life. Back when things were simpler, easier. But that was a different time, a different you, and most importantly, a different Ellie.

"Being civil is a far cry from what you're suggesting," you said finally, breaking the silence.

Ellie sighed. "I know I don't deserve a second chance. Hell, I don't even deserve your friendship. But can't we at least try to be... something?"

You stared at her, pondering her words. The Ellie sitting in front of you now seemed so different from the girl you had fallen for. And yet, there were moments, fleeting seconds, when you could almost see traces of the old Ellie—the one who made you laugh, who made you think, who made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But those traces were just that—fleeting and insubstantial. The real Ellie, the one sitting in front of you, was a reminder of a chapter you had painfully closed.

"We can try," you said finally, "but I can't promise anything."

Ellie nodded, a mixture of relief and regret flashing across her face. "I guess that's all I can ask for."

As you both sipped your coffee in silence, the weight of what was left unsaid hung heavy in the air. And yet, for the first time in a long time, it felt like you could both breathe a little easier.

But as Ellie's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but wonder: in the quest for something new, something better, had you both lost something irreplaceable? There was something substantially broken between the two of you now, innocence on both parts lost.

TWO YEARS AGO

You found yourself standing in front of your bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection as you pondered what to wear for this so-called 'tour' with Ingrid. You wondered if you should aim for casual or if Ingrid, with her meticulous style, would expect something more. After rummaging through your wardrobe, you settled on a simple pair of jeans and a loose-fitting white shirt. Casual, yet presentable. You threw on a light jacket, considering the morning chill, and took one last look in the mirror. Satisfied but not entirely confident, you grabbed your phone and headed downstairs. Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, bowl of cereal in front of her with her spoon in one hand and phone in the other.

"Going out?" Your mom looked up from her phone, her eyes scanning your outfit.

"Yeah, a girl from school is showing me around town."

"Ah, great. Text me if you need anything." Her eyes returned to her phone, but not before you caught the fleeting look of relief. There the pressure was again, and in turn your sinking stomach.

"See you later, Mom," you said, heading for the door.

"Have fun, sweetheart!" she called out as you closed the door behind you.

As you approached Ingrid's car, you noticed her already leaning against it. She was wearing what could only be described as the epitome of 'casual chic'—ripped jeans, a designer top, and a pair of sunglasses perched effortlessly on her head. She looked up from her phone and greeted you with a broad, almost rehearsed, smile.

"Ready for your grand tour?" Ingrid inquired, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than you were comfortable with.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you replied, cautiously optimistic about the day ahead.

The interior of Ingrid's car was as meticulously maintained as her appearance. The leather seats were pristine, and the air was scented with something floral, bordering on overpowering. She started the engine, and you were off.

The first few minutes were filled with awkward silence. You sensed that Ingrid was waiting for you to initiate conversation, but you were too wrapped up in your thoughts to open your mouth to speak. Finally, she broke the ice.

"So, first stop, the infamous Longview Park. You'll love it—it's where everyone hangs out," she said, her voice tinged with enthusiasm that sounded slightly rehearsed.

"That sounds fun," you responded, forcing a smile.

As you drove through the town, Ingrid began to pepper you with questions. They started off harmless enough—questions about your old town, your interests, your favorite movies. But as the drive continued, the questions began to probe deeper.

"So, why did you move here? If you don't mind me asking," she added hastily, as though realizing she might be venturing into sensitive territory.

"My dad passed away. We couldn’t afford to live there anymore, so we had to move," you replied, trying to maintain composure. You had rehearsed this response, but it still felt like you were ripping off a Band-Aid every time you said it.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ingrid responded, her voice softening for the first time that morning. But before you could reply, she was off again. "Are you seeing anyone?"

The abrupt switch in topic caught you off-guard. "Uh, no, not right now," you stammered.

"Really? Someone as hot as you? I find that hard to believe," she said, her eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road.

"Um, thanks," you muttered, not entirely sure how to interpret the compliment.

Ingrid seemed to take your discomfort as a cue to change the subject. "We're almost at Longview Park. It's truly the heart of our community," she declared, as if rehearsed.

As you pulled into the parking lot of Longview Park, you took a deep breath. It was time to see what this 'heart of the community' was all about.

he car rolled to a stop, and Ingrid switched off the engine, her eyes twinkling like she was unveiling a secret treasure. "And here we are—Longview Park. It's like the social hub of our high school world."

You opened the car door and stepped out, looking around. The park was sizable, dotted with large oaks and willows that offered generous shade. A playground occupied one corner, bustling with the laughter of children, while a pond shimmered peacefully in the mid-morning sun. People were everywhere—jogging, playing Frisbee, or simply lounging on the grass. It had a communal feel.

Ingrid led you along a gravel path, her steps confident and rehearsed as if she'd walked this path a thousand times before. "See that gazebo over there?" she pointed, "That's like the unofficial meet-up spot for parties and hangouts. And over there is the infamous 'Lovers' Lane' where couples go to... well, you know."

Her words were punctuated with a suggestive wink that made you feel slightly uncomfortable. You chuckled nervously, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the way people looked at Ingrid—long enough to show interest but not too long to risk her noticing. She seemed to command attention effortlessly, and you couldn't tell if it was her charisma or if you were completely missing something

"Everyone loves to be here on weekends," Ingrid continued, her tone casual but her eyes scanning the area, as if looking for someone or something in particular. "It's a great place to catch up with friends or make new ones. Like we're doing right now."

She shot you a smile, the kind that was meant to be endearing but felt slightly off-mark. You returned it nonetheless. "It's a nice place. Very... lively," you said, choosing your words carefully.

As you neared the pond, you spotted a familiar face sitting on one of the benches—Cat. And next to her, unmistakably, was Ellie. They seemed engrossed in conversation, their faces inches apart. A pang of something—was it jealousy?—stabbed at you, but you quickly brushed it aside.

"Hey, look who it is!" Ingrid's voice brought you back to reality. She had followed your gaze and was now staring directly at Ellie and Cat. "Want to go say hi?"

You hesitated. The last thing you wanted was an awkward run-in, but before you could voice your concerns, Ingrid had already started walking toward them.

"Hey Cat, Ellie!" she called out, her voice unnaturally high. Both heads turned in your direction, and the range of emotions that crossed their faces in that brief moment was unsettling—surprise, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Hey Ingrid," Ellie finally spoke, her eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before returning to Ingrid. "What brings you here?"

"Just giving our new resident a grand tour of Longview Park," Ingrid replied, her arm casually draping over your shoulder. You felt a shiver run down your spine but chose to ignore it.

"That's nice of you," Cat chimed in, her eyes narrowing slightly as they settled on you. You couldn't tell if she was being sincere or just sizing you up.

"Yeah, it's been fun," you said, forcing a smile. But your eyes met Ellie's once more, and the unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you.

"Well, we won't keep you," Ingrid said abruptly, as if sensing the tension. "Lots more to see. Come on," she tugged at your arm lightly, and you followed her back to the path, leaving Ellie and Cat behind.

As you walked away, you felt Ellie's gaze burning into your back. You wanted to look back, to catch one last glimpse of her, but you resisted. Whatever was or wasn't happening between you and Ellie would have to wait. Right now, you were on Ingrid's turf, and you couldn't help but feel like a pawn in a much larger game.

"Shall we continue?" Ingrid asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you replied, but your thoughts were already miles away.

The door clicked shut as you slid into the passenger seat, your thoughts still reeling from the encounter at the park. Ingrid revved up the engine and pulled away, humming softly to the beat of the song playing on the radio. You looked over at her, everything about her seemed staged.

"How did you like the park?" she asked, casting a quick glance in your direction.

"It was... interesting," you said cautiously. "It's a nice place, very lively. Lots of history, I imagine."

Ingrid chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea. It's like the theater of high school drama. Anything and everything happens there."

Her words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel like there was a deeper meaning behind them. But before you could ponder it further, your phone buzzed. Glancing down, you saw Ellie's name flash on the screen.

Ellie: hey. can we talk later?

You felt a mixed bag of emotions, but you were mostly nervous. You hadn’t taken the group's warning and hung out with Ingrid anyays. It wasn’t like she was two fingers deep inside of you, but with the way Cat and Ellie looked, it seemed that way. You were about to type a response when you noticed Ingrid's eyes flicking toward your phone screen, then back to the road.

"Who's that?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity.

"Just a friend," you said, choosing your words carefully. "We're supposed to catch up later."

"Oh," she responded, but you could sense a change in her demeanor, a tightening around her eyes. "Well, I hope I'm not keeping you from anything important."

"No, not at all," you reassured her, quickly typing a response to Ellie. "Sure, let's talk. Text me when you're free."

As you pressed send, you couldn't help but wonder about the timing. Why did Ellie want to talk now? And what was it about? Your thoughts were interrupted by Ingrid turning up the volume on the radio, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the steering wheel.

"So," she began, breaking the momentary silence, "we've covered quite a bit today. Any highlights?"

You pondered the question. "Well, the park was a highlight, I guess. It's always good to know where people hang out. Makes me feel less like an outsider."

Ingrid smiled, but there was something about it that made you uneasy. "You're not an outsider, you know. You're just new, and new can be exciting."

"Thanks," you said, your phone buzzing again. This time it was a text from your mom asking about your day.

Feeling the need to switch gears, you asked, "So, how long have you been living here? You seem to know everyone and everything."

"Born and raised," she declared proudly. "It has its pros and cons, but I like it. And yes, I do know a lot of people, but it's not hard when you grow up here. Everyone kind of knows everyone."

"That must be nice," you said, though a part of you wondered what it would be like to have that much history in one place—so many connections, but also so many ties that could bind you.

"Yeah," she paused, her expression turning serious. "But it can also be a bit suffocating, you know? Sometimes you just want to break free, start fresh somewhere new. Like you."

You looked at her, intrigued by this sudden glimpse into her thoughts. "Well, starting fresh isn't as glamorous as it seems. It has its own ups and downs."

"True," she conceded. "But at least it's a blank slate."

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Ellie.

Ellie: i really need to talk to you. it's important.

This time, you couldn't ignore the urgency in her message. Something was up, something significant. You looked up to find Ingrid watching you, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, but her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

You hesitated, weighing your options. "Actually, I might need to cut our day short. Something's come up at home."

Ingrid's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in them—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe something else.

"Of course," she said, finally breaking eye contact. "Life happens. Let's get you home."

You stepped out of Ingrid's car, waving goodbye as she drove off. Your phone buzzed as you approached your front door, another text from Ellie.

Ellie: can you meet me at the grind? it’s about two blocks away from our house. i can drive us back.

You texted back a quick "on my way" and made your way over.

Ten minutes later, you walked into The Grind, the local coffee shop where the whole town seemed to be at this moment. As you scanned the room, your eyes met Ellie's. She was seated at a corner table, her phone face down and her fingers nervously tapping a rhythm against her coffee mug.

"Hey," you greeted as you approached, pulling out the chair across from her.

"Hey," Ellie replied, her eyes meeting yours briefly before averting. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem. Sounded like it was urgent. What's up?"

"I saw you today," she began cautiously, "with Ingrid."

A knot formed in your stomach. "Yeah, she was showing me around. Why?"

Ellie hesitated, looking down at her mug, and tapping the handle. She closed her eyes for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "Be careful with her. She's not what she seems."

"I mean I heard what you guys said about her at lunc but," you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "She seems harmless."

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Cut right above her shoulders, the choppy layers suited her face. "Ingrid has a way of getting close to people, and it's not always for the right reasons. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Your eyes met, and you felt a strange warmth spread through you. Ellie was concerned for you. But why? She had only known you a day. You searched her face for an answer, for anything, but you came up short.

"Do you have something against her?" you asked, not hiding your skepticism.

"No," Ellie was quick to respond, "it's not like that. I've just seen her ruin friendships, relationships. She's manipulative."

"You seem serious," you remarked, detecting a tinge of something in her voice—was it jealousy?

Ellie looked down at her mug, her fingers ceasing their tapping. "I just don't want history to repeat itself, okay?"

"History?" you questioned, leaning forward. "What happened?"

She looked up again, her eyes meeting yours again, but this time they were vulnerable, exposed. "Ingrid and I had a thing once. And it felt more serious than her ‘things’ with Cat and Dina. And let's just say it didn't end well."

Now it made sense. The hints, the caution—it was personal for Ellie.

She held your gaze, her eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "Also," she paused, as if weighing whether to continue, "You’re my friend now. I care about you. And I don't want to see you get hurt."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words.

You finally broke the silence. "Thank you for telling me, Ellie. I appreciate it."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, yeah. Of course"

As you left The Grind, your thoughts were a swirl of confusion and clarity. Ellie's concern had added another layer to the already complicated dynamic of your new life. But through it all, one thing became clear—Ellie cared about you, maybe more than she was willing to admit.

And as you replayed the conversation in your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that Ellie wasn't just warning you about Ingrid. She was also staking her claim, marking her territory in a landscape that was becoming increasingly complicated.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 month

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Setting: The Kingdom of Xophena, Realm of the Pure

Though it is famed the world over for the piety of its people and the bravery of its knights, this kingdom holds a dark secret at its heart. If you were to see the scattering of fortress cities surrounded by horror haunted wilderness it would be all too easy to believe the legends: brave warriors sallying forth to do battle against the corruption that besieges them from all sides, slaying great foes and making great sacrifices in the name of defending the innocent. If you looked closer though you would see Xophena for all its faults, the fear by which its elite drive and dominate its populace, a tradition of martial glory that justifies any action or abuse of the warrior caste, a population forced to endure toil and abject subjugation or be exiled outside the walls.

Adventure Hooks:

While travelling through the realm of the pure as part of an ongoing quest, the party run into a retinue of outrider knights on their way to destroy a rampaging aberration hiding out in a gold mine. Some of the knights scoff at the party for being common sellswords, while others recognize them as fellow doogooders-at-arms. There's glory to be had if the party join them in their mission, and more importantly, potential reward and bragging rights.... if they can keep up, the mounted cavaliers aren't going to slow down on the party's behalf.

Xophen emissaries have made an appearance in the party's homeland, courting alliances, making trade deals, and generally putting their finger on the scales of power. Distrustful of too many good offers, the party's patron is planning on a visit to Xophena in the near future and would like them to come along as extra sets of eyes and ears. Renegade heroes have a habit of seeing through the haze of political bullshit.

Xophena would make a fascinating backdrop for a campaign, as Arthurian myth crashes into lovecraftian weirdness. The best place to start would be with the party as castoffs and exiles, eking out a living in one of the few hidden hamlets built by those outcast from the social order. How do they survive? When circumstances demand that they enter one of the fortress cities do they trick their way in, or beg favour from the sanctimonious powers that be? Can they last long enough to discover the secret that has bent the world into its current cruel shape?

Background: Only a few centuries ago Xophena was just like any other kingdom, periods of prosperity and stability that dissolved into infighting as the local warrior elite squabbled for position. That of course all changed when monsters known as the Delnbrood began to wriggle out of the earth like worms after rain, causing untold devastation and forcing a societal retreat to the increasingly fortified settlements dotted about the mountainous foothills. The fear and chaos of these years restructured Xophen society into a rigid hierarchy based around tradition, faith, and survival, which has only grown more ossified as time has gone on.

Both Xophen scripture and legend will tell you that the horrors that beset them began with a treasonous sorcerer Delndrek who sought to take the throne for himself through dishonorable means and darkest sorcery. He was opposed by Tanria brightspear, a saint of the everlight who foiled his every sly attempt to seize power, until at last she cornered him and forced his surrender. Ever the coward, Delndrek sacrificed his humanity rather than relinquish his ambition, becoming an indescribable abomination, that it took the bright speared saint five days to vanquish, dying in the process. It's said that the aberrations that beset Xophena today are born from where his tainted blood struck the earth.

Like many of the tales told about the realm of the pure, this story is a lie, gilded with just enough truth to make it stick in the people's memory. Delndrek wasn't just a sorcerer, but the sorcerer of the royal family, tasked with magicing away all the problems that backwoods dynasty couldn't solve through bloodshed or political marriage. The kingdom's goldmines had always been its lifeblood, and most of the fighting in those days about who could profit from what claim. Trouble was the royal family's mines were drying up, so they threw their pet mage at the problem said that if he didn't find a solution they'd torture him till they did. Dying mines and mounting stress forced Delndrek to look deeper and deeper for an answer, and eventually led him to communion with the outergod Jysh'parun who holds dominion over the secrets of mountains. A pact was struck, the mountains ate people and spat up gold, until eventually the saint found out and decided to put a stop to things.

Cut to today, and the dependants of that very same royal family are still trying to wriggle out of the pact they instigated, spending their people's lives to fill their coffers and fight back the creatures the outer god sends to assert dominion over the realm he was promised.

Setting Details:

The church of the everlight was always strong in Xophena, dating back half a millennia to when an adherent of hers was lost on a stormy sea for months and was only able to find land when the mist parted and he saw the dawn first alighting on one of the region's seaside peaks. The mountainous temple city of First Alight still serves as the heart of the region's faith.

That faith has become just as gaudy and hollow as the rest of the kingdom: Somewhere along the line it was decided that gold was the best way to demonstrate praise to Sarenrae, both in decorating her icons and paying to erect ever grander structures in her honour. While the common people pray for the hope and strength to lead them through lean times, their tithes go to fund an increasingly bloated clergy who spend their days finding reasons that the peoples' sinful nature forestalls their goddess's promised salvation.

You don't compose ballads calling your homeland "Realm of the Pure" unless you've got some hangups around cleanliness. Delndrek's corruption has touched more than the land, as aberrant sorceries and otherworldly mutations have begun to spring up among the populace. Those with influence do their best to hide these marks, those without are scapegoated, exiled, or made an example of.

For all their privilege and brainwashing, many of the realm's knights really do believe in the cause, having largely abandoned the ways of petty armed gentry and settling instead into martial orders. While they all compete to slay the most beasts and earn the most gallant reputation, it is a deepset longing among the knights to be able to find St. Tanria's lost spear, which in the right hands is said to be able to rid the land of its blight once and for all.

Arcane magic is viewed with suspicion in Xophena, as any rogue mage could be just another Delndrek waiting to happen. Exceptions are of course made for those spoken for by the nobility.

Art 1

Art 2

#Jysh'parun #setting #campaign #press start #mountain #lovecraft #occult #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder #sarenrae

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 4 months

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 71

Part 1 Part 70

Eddie doesn’t realize how in tune he is with Steve until the connection with him slackens and then yanks. He almost doesn’t have a choice but to follow it, reeled in like on the line, but it doesn’t matter; Eddie Munson will always go where Steve Harrington leads him.

He rounds the playground at a dead sprint, smoker’s lungs protesting but he doesn’t slow until he sees Steve. It takes him a second to realize what’s happening because Steve isn’t running from some creature Dustin had brought to school. He’s just standing there.

It's not like last time in the closet, though. Or in Wayne’s truck, or Will’s bed. He’s not staring off into the distance, vacant and gone, no. His eyelids are flickering violently beneath his lids. It’s like he’s having a nightmare.

“Steve?” he shouts, clutching Steve’s shoulders and shaking. When nothing happens, he moves his hand up to Steve’s neck, hoping the skin-to-skin contact brings him back.

It doesn’t. Steve’s skin is cool, the winter air leeching away his warmth.

“Steve, please come back,” he demands, his other hand moving up to cradle his neck. He wants to ring it, choke the life out of him rather than lose him to whatever this is. His fingers flex, biting into his skin just a little.

Eddie hears a door behind him open with a crash as it bangs into something with the force of its swinging. He doesn’t turn around to see who the feet running up behind him are, doesn’t care until he feels the bright, shining dot that is Will Byers moving toward him.

He stops at his side, bright and sharp and so fucking warm. Eddie turns, still clutching Steve’s neck. Will reaches out, fingers hesitating by Steve’s shoulder as he looks up at Steve’s face with shining eyes.

“Please, baby Byers?” he asks, voice breaking on the tears clogging his throat.

Will meets his eyes, looking up, up, up at where Eddie stands, asking something of him that’s unfair. He’s too small for this. Too scared. Too young. But Steve’s convulsing beneath Eddie’s fingers and he can’t fucking breath. “Please.”

The door opens again, more bodies pouring out, the loud voices of the party doing fuck-all to break Eddie’s focus on Will. Will who doesn’t even have to ask what he means. Will barely hesitates before he’s reaching out.

Someone shouts, “no!” desperate and breaking. Eddie thinks it’s Mike, but he doesn’t turn away from Will, can’t as he watches his small hand inch forward to cover Eddie’s own on Steve’s neck. He has to reach so far, arm extending to its limit.

The warmth of his palm on the back of Eddie’s hand makes him gasp, squeezing Steve’s throat tighter. He doesn’t stop Will from creeping his hand forward, pushing his fingers in the spaces between Eddie’s own and sinking down until he’s touching Steve’s chilled skin.

Part 72

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #steddie upsidedown au #will byers #a short one!

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axelsagewrites · 7 months

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Kinktober 2023 List

Welcome to my first ever kinktober, a month long of smutty drabbles and one shots. Hope you all enjoy and if you want added to a charecter/fandom tag list so you dont miss anything let me know <3

NSFW under cut

Masterlist Here

Day one: discrete fun with Robb Stark – deciding to take his teasing to a new level Robb decides to take the sex toys out of the bedroom

Day two: marking with Jace Velaryon – jealous is an understatement for what Jace is feeling so he decides to fix his problems by showing everyone who you belong to

Day three: phone sex with Jamie Tartt – even though he loved to play the long nights away from you were almost impossible to bare so he often found himself hitting call at late hours of the night

Day four: body worship with Podrick Payne – Podrick feels honoured just to be able to touch your body and wants you to hear his praises

Day five: role reversal with James Potter – James is used to being in charge, but things change when one night you decide to give him a taste of his own teasing medicine

Day six: over stimulation with Jon Snow – Jon is eager to please but even more eager to make you a mumbling mess who doesn’t know their own name by the end

Day seven: stepcest/cam girl au with Daemon Targaryen – after Daemons new stepdaughter moves in daemon finds out her naughty little secret

Day eight: dubcon kidnap au with Ramsay Bolton – Ramsay can’t stand the idea of such a pretty creature going unappreciated any longer

Day nine: edging/orgasm denial with Rhanerya Targaryen – since you’re used to get everything you want Rhaenyra decides to show you good things come to those who wait

Day ten: throne/semi public sex with Danerys Targaryen – being the queen is a stressful job and it is your job to help your queen relax even if that means risking getting caught

Day eleven: knife play with Ivar the Boneless – people whisper and wonder how someone so sweet could marry someone so angry, but they don’t see what Ivar does when you’re underneath him

Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds

Day thirteen: primal play with Remus Lupin – usually when Remus runs around the forest its not by choice but tonight, he is chasing his favourite prey

Day fourteen: sex toys and teasing with Sansa Stark – after finding a sleek pink vibrator in her top drawer you decide to see what it can really do

Day fifteen: voyeurism with Aegon Targaryen – while you are visiting his family Aegon discovers a secret passage and what he accidentally sees through the cracks makes him want you instantly

Day sixteen: caught in the act with Roy Kent – when Roy came home all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you but when he heard a buzzing from under the sheets his plans took a very different turn

Day seventeen: mommy kink with Cersei Lannister – while she may be rough and callous to most others Cersei finds herself dotting on her sweet girl in her chambers each night

Day eighteen: corruption kink with Alicent Hightower – a new septa arrive at court but none of the thoughts on Alicent’s minds are holy

Day nineteen: choking with Bjorn Ironside – you may have been captured by the enemies, but the punishment Bjorn gives you is starting to feel like a reward

Day twenty: bondage/wax play with Margaery Tyrell: people may whisper about her brother’s bedroom habits but none of them see the things she gets up to with her ladies’ maid

Day twenty-one: face fucking with Cregan Stark: to gain his loyalty Cregan demands that you earn it, and he enjoys watching the tears streak down your face as you do

Day twenty-two: daddy kink with Sirius Black – the word just slipped out one time but now it’s all Sirius wants to hear from your lips

Day twenty-three: brat taming with Sandor Clegane – after growing sick of a princess’s bratty attitude Sandor decides to teach her how to behave

Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel

Day twenty-five: breeding kink with Ned Stark – there is a reason why Ned has so many children and it’s not as noble as many assume

Day twenty-six: collaring with Aemond Targaryen – not wanting to share Aemond decides to invest in something to show that you’ll always be his and only his

Day twenty-seven: double penetration with Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent: they both like you and when they came to settle it once and for all neither of them expected this out come

Day twenty-eight: mutual masturbation with Oberyn Martell – you always heard that the dornish were more sex positive than most, but you hadn’t expected Oberyn Martell of all people to show you just how good it could feel

Day twenty-nine: face riding with Heleana Targaryen – while Heleana appeared shy outside of your chambers when you, her maid, came to tend to her at night she was anything but shy

Day thirty: teacher student au with Jamie Lannister – he knew it was wrong to ask you to stay after class but after one too many short, short skirts he could no longer keep his thoughts at bay

Day thirty-one: orgy/group sex with Aegon, Aemond, Jace, Daemon, and Rhaenyra since after all sharing is caring

303 notes · View notes

ceruleancattail · 4 months

Note

*climbs up from the pits of flaming torturous despair*

HELLO GOOD FELLOW, MAY I HUMBLY REQUEST SOME YANDERE ROOK HUNT PLEASE??? PERHAPS “A HUNT” PER SE, THAT COULD BE AN INTERESTING CONCEPT!!! AU REVOIR!!!

*sinks back down*

Cruel

Yandere Rook x reader

Tw: yandere, suffocation, mentions of vomit and gore

You could feel the grime right under your nails.

Little pieces of dirt and soil jutting deep into the tender skin of your fingertips, staining them a dark, deep earthy brown. They ached, a dull sensation that gnawed away at your very soul.

The pain sank its fangs into your palm, all those little fragments cutting deep as you clawed at the ground. Digging your hands deep into the earth, forcing yourself forward inch by inch. Crawling across the ground like some pitiable insect, ready to be trampled underfoot by some unaware foot.

In hindsight, you would have been better off that way. If only you were insignificant enough to be crushed, unnoticeable to the masses. Feeble enough to be ignored by him.

Unfortunately, you’ve managed to catch the eye of a rather skilled hunter. For all you run, you’ll never truly escape him. Rook’s rather proud of his eyesight, after all.

It’ll be a shame if the word got out about his prey escaping his grasp.

The rustling of foliage. The unmistakable crunch of dried leaves, crushed underfoot. Spitting out a curse, you ceased all movement. Rook was more than capable of moving silently through the woods.

Him making noise was a taunt, directed towards you. A smug, accursed way of announcing that the hunt was over.

He won.

Gulping back the nausea lapping at the back of your throat, you froze on the spot. Forcing your limbs to go limp, flopping pathetically onto the ground. Fighting the urge to shiver, steeling your veins.

Desperately wishing for your heart to slow, that deafening pounding drowning out every coherent thought in your mind. All there were was grabbled instincts howling away, demanding to be heard.

“I’m scared.” “It hurts.” “Get me out of here.”

“Oh, ma beauté! Just how wonderful you look!”

At the sound of that ever so familiar chirp, all you thought of was:

“Run.”

It took all your willpower not to scramble onto your feet in a last-ditch attempt to flee the scene. Instead, your teeth sunk deep into the flesh of your lips, letting a sickeningly sweet metallic taste drip onto your tongue.

Stay. Still.

“You gave me quite the chase for that one! I was almost afraid I lost you for good, ma cherie.”

His voice was coated with concern, every single letter dripping into your ears with a hiss. Rook’s voice was acidic, corroding every crevice of your ears. For all the wonderful pet names he comes up with for you, that’s all they are.

Empty, meaningless names for a mere pet. A creature to care for, a creature to control.

Even without looking up, you could picture Rook’s patronising smirk with crystal clarity in your mind. The way it leans onto the side, twitching with amusement… it made you sick.

You could feel the leather of his gloves on your skin, trailing upwards the length of your body. Two fingers slipped right beside your throat, pressing gingerly against its side. Measuring your pulse.

Rook taps lightly against your neck, humming to himself softly.

“You’re still breathing, mon bien-aimé. Why do you not speak?”

A weight pressed against the nape of your neck, his fingers digging a little more firmly into the flesh of your throat, pressing onto it with just a little more force. Not enough to totally cut off your breathing, but enough to make your lungs burn, collapsing into themselves. Your breaths grow so much more frantic, so much more desperate as you pant, desperate for air.

Your fingers reach for his own, clawing at them like some feral beast. Yet even with all your strength, the most you could do was to blindly bat at his hands. Your vision blurred, your surroundings swarmed by black splotchy dots, determined to mare your vision.

Something warm flowed from your lips, the putrid smell flooding your nostrils. Your own spittle, mixing with the heavy, stiffening stench of freshly upturned dirt.

In the midst of all your suffering, you could vaguely hear Rook’s chuckle. Light and airy, as if you two were having a casual chat at some cafe instead of him strangling you.

“How does that feel, chérie? It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Rook doesn’t even bother waiting for you to answer, before he continues.

“That’s how I feel, when you ignore me like that. It hurts, so very much. Like a someone has driven a stake into my heart, and left the rust to fester.

Don’t you think that’s so cruel?”

Laughing to himself, Rook finally loosens his hold. Leaving you to collapse onto the ground, chest heaving heavily. Your lungs scramble, gathering up as much air as your windpipe would allow, to replace all the oxygen squeezed out by Rook’s own two cruel hands.

“Ah, you’re lucky you’ve enchanted me, darling. I do spoil you terribly much.”

Taking a knee, Rook lowers himself to your eye level. Raising his hand towards his lips, teeth gingerly biting down on the very edge of his glove. A pause, before he pulls it off in one fluid motion.

His bare hand reaches for your chin, tilting it upwards as gently as he could.

“Now, what do we say when someone’s nice to you?”

His nails dig into your flesh. A silent warning.

Speak.

Choking back a sob, you stutter:

“T… thank you. Thank you… Rook.”

Upon hearing you speak, Rook beams.

“There we go, Ma Cherie! See, was that so hard?”

You shake your head slowly, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. If Rook notices, he doesn’t let on. He chatters away about how hard the chase was this time, and how lucky you were to have someone like him as a boyfriend. There are hardly any noble souls left in this world that appreciate a good hunt.

He clutches at your hands, forcing his fingers to intertwine with yours. Your dirt-covered hands, throbbing a raw red. Rook speaks, muttering in a feverish, almost frantic tone.

“You and I? We were made for each other.

So by all means, mon bien-aimé. Run. Run as far as you can.

I’ll always find you.”

192 notes · View notes

essenteez · 2 years

Text

𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 || c h o i s a n 1 8 +

"Fucking her was an ambrosia for his sick ego, a feast for all his demons."

"Say I'm a god." The man demanded, threat hanging in his tone like his all existence depended on it. You looked at him, overwhelmed by the unbearable teasing he kept sending upon you with his two digits deep inside you. "Say it."

🔪 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : Known to the underworld as Reaper, San wouldn't let a change to play god to slide. If the money was good, he'd made sure the job was done. Elimination of a top level politician wasn't groundbreaking but the job #76 was different – really special, having San’s inner demons to thrive. Who would've known the woman he had been fucking for months was a wife of the man he was assigned to kill?

🔪 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : San x fem!reader

🔪 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : Smut, action, criminal, psychological

🔪 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : m*rder, blo*d, explicit language, gunplay, knife play, cutting, blo*d tasting, oral (both receiving), choking, double fingering (f!receiving), edging, overstimulation, tying down, mdom, pet names, slut/whore calling, face riding (m!receiving), rough sex, mentions of breeding, mind games, m i n o r s d o n o t i n t e r a c t !!

🔪 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 11k

The sun began setting in vivid colors, painting the heavy cirrocumulus clouds bright red in the early autumn sky. No wonder the panorama had the whole city in awe. The view was indeed breathtaking, almost overwhelming, causing almost every pedestrian to stop and admire, then eventually eternalizing the scenery with their phone cameras.

However, there was one person that seemed to be completely immune to the capturing sights.

Not one of the passersby were paying attention to the ordinary looking man that occupied a little fragment of pavement aside, next to a small but busy cafe in the east part of Manhattan. He stood there, dressed in black from head to toe, with his back against the building's brick wall. One hand submerged in his pocket, the other rolled a half smoked cigarette between his slim fingers.

The man looked like everyone else on the street, irrelevant.

And that was what he intended.

Blending into the crowd and becoming completely invisible weren't much of an effort to him; one of only two lessons that Choi San actually appreciated being taught during his time spent in the military. The other one was of course how to obliterate his own humanity. Both those valuable lessons now allowed him to wipe his ass with money.

A pair of sharp eyes flashed with threatening unpleasantness from under the black cap that was hiding San’s face. The urge to silence two loud love birds across the street was colossal.

His jaw clenched, teeth gritting with annoyance. His neck veins popped from raising irritation with their obnoxious behavior as they were taking hundreds of basic pictures of each other in the incredible lighting.

He couldn't help but stroke the gunmetal, hidden deep in his pocket as the killer's instincts were heavily tempted.

Again he was forced to focus on gathering all the thoughts he had to prioritize. No suspicious movements should be made. He glared at a nearby skyscraper, basking in the blinding sun.

The bloody star burned more with every minute. To some, that display of nature was just a sign of colder weather the next day. Those more superstitious individuals were lowering the draws while cursing the red ball on the horizon, considering it an omen of the innocent blood being spilled tonight.

San couldn't care less of any of that; weather foreshadowing or some stupid beliefs. For him, today's light of the sunset was nothing but pure luck, its help in hiding the red dot sight, which would make his job ten times easier.

"Fucking clowns." He spat out, when squeaky excited voices of the couple echoed again between tall buildings, almost disturbing his state of concentration.

However, it was not enough to make his hawk-like vision not register a sudden, weak movement on the roof of the building before him.

A pleased smirk appeared on his dangerously handsome face, giving its sharp features all the cocky colors.

"Hello there."

Only an indistinct glimpse of one black figure grazed San’s eyes, but that was exactly what he had been waiting for.

Immediately his calculative mind showed him the whole map of that part of Manhattan, with the whole military security unit scattered on every roof and filling every hole and blind spot that could potentially cause danger.

His sight turned from an annoyingly over enthusiastic couple to the big round building that was located a few blocks away from his position.

The Conference Building Center.

Today, that building was a main focus of many eyes, also those watching from dark, hidden spots. The round impressive center was completely covered with glass, reflecting all the surroundings. Windows, another luck.

No matter the circumstances, San had never failed to hunt the target. Everything that the police knew was what he let them find. There was no possibility that Reaper would ever get caught. That was why in missions like that one, where media and government were involved, he had to be extra attentive, appreciating those lucky conditions.

His fox eyes observed every movement of journalists gathered before the main entrance of CBC. He recognized the last preparation they were making as cameras were turned on one after another and the presenters started fixing their clothes and microphones.

The fun had begun.

First, the snipers arriving on the roofs to secure the territory, then the slight chaos, unfolding among the media teams and just now the representative welcoming team set on their positions to greet the big fish. It was all simple signals that San's target was about to arrive at the spot of his final moments.

He took two last puffs before the cigarette ended up beneath his shoe. It was time to move.

San had already chosen and prepared his hide site a few days ago, right before the conference was announced to the public and the military did their own scan of the place.

Despite the spot being pretty far from the CBC, it was surely occupied by one of the military pawns. San however considered it as the best thing in that difficult situation; they never paid attention to the less significant places, putting all the pressure on “the eyes” right around the main scene.

San didn’t need to be as close as he could to the target. Having them in a straight line wasn’t necessary either. Only thing required in Reaper’s death ritual was to have the duck in sight.

The spot he picked was just one of the medium sized condominium buildings, part of the older city's architecture. The stairway couldn’t be openly secured by the military since people living there had to have a free and non stressful access to their apartments. Nevertheless, it had to be watched from another, unobstructive position. San had to eliminate every obstacle that could disrupt his mission.

Arriving at the location, he kneeled down to quickly untie his shoe and take his time while tying it back. His attention was caught by two men, laughing at each other in the alley, right beside a big green dumpster situated four meters away from the stairway. For a sight of a normal human being, they looked like a couple of friends, maybe neighbors that got outside for an evening talk and smoke.

But not for San.

He noticed their well hidden attentiveness to every move and noise, their dominating hand never leaving the area of the big coats’ pockets. There was no mistake, that job would harvest more victims.

A distant sound of multiple sirens went off, catching the attention of San and definitely every “eye”.

The target number 76 was about to arrive in the CBC.

Watching how suddenly those two men began to move closer to the main street and leave their positions, San couldn’t help but snort in disbelief at their recklessness.

"Morons.”

Duty and mission over curiosity – distraction had no right to win. But there they were, giving death an invitation.

Either they were not expecting any bad events to happen or HQ failed to see they hired two idiots to guard a top politician. That was San's chance to clear the path like a child's play. He was indeed lucky today.

Leaving his shoelaces, he crossed the street with a normal paced, peaceful jog, along with many other people, trying to cross it before a column of cars would block the pass.

Ordinarily San disappeared behind a building next to his hide spot and his two prey. Walking the block around, his eyes quickly made sure that his method of escape was on the spot. After getting through the alley, he peeked from a corner to see a view that he already knew would welcome him.

Everyone’s back turned to him, every face watched as a row of black shiny cars, carrying a whole unit of bodyguards and the main star of the evening, the Governor.

Despite standing in the back of the crowd, the two curious guardians tried to catch a glimpse of a beloved politician, not sensing their own doom unraveling behind their backs as a black figure was closing the distance between them.

The sirens were getting louder, drowning out every other noise of the city, as well as San’s decisive and heavy steps in the dark alley.

The stairway was left unsupervised, which let him slide inside with no problem. All he had to do now was wait. He wished he could eliminate the couple right there but unfortunately, there was an important procedure that San couldn’t walk around. He needed these two idiots alive for a longer minute.

He decided to use this time to dress appropriately for the job. Using the chaos outside, San leisurely climbed up the stairs. The hiding place behind an old electrical box was untouched, exactly how he left it. Pulling a backpack from behind it, he quickly dressed in its content.

Black cargo jacket replaced the long puffer coat he wore previously. His cap disappeared, revealing his sharp features and short black hair he wore the same since he left the military. Plastic protectors embraced his knees and elbows.

Before putting on the black gloves, San reached out for his phone to check the hour but an unread message caught his attention.

$$lut>> Mandarin Oriental, apartment 5, hope you'll be there around 6pm. Y/n.

Unconsciously he inhaled sharply, feeling the cold air fill his lungs. For a second his straight face gave in to a combination of sinister excitement and roguish mania, decorating his exquisite features.

There was no way he would miss that meeting with you. Not when it was the biggest reason why that mission was the most satisfying job he had ever been paid to do. Just the thought of it was making him tremble in sick excitement.

His 76th job was more than just a "kill and disappear" mission. It was a perfect chance for San's crooked nature to show itself with all the dark sides to it. A great opportunity to unleash all his demons at once and let them thrive all they desired.

The moment he got the target file, he couldn't believe his own eyes. It wasn't the governor title or getting involved in political fights that was the reason for San's disbelief.

What were the odds that he was paid to kill a man whose wife was the best cumdumbster he had ever had put his cock inside?

Having this information on his mind while going through weeks of preparation and scheming, his wild and unlimited imagination only added more fuel to the fire.

That was why it was the only time he had texted you first, asking to prepare the place of the meeting and sabotaging you into daydreaming about how desperate he was for your body.

San knew you wouldn't waste your husband's nearest absence to let your dirtiest secret fuck you again. Not after all those times he made you turn into a brainless slut with his skills. He knew you wanted more and more with every meeting, making you basically addicted to the sin.

Exactly, you wouldn't waste any opportunity. Therefore what was a better chance for proving again your unfaithfulness to your husband than him being away, busy speaking to the citizens about his political successes and goals?

As the car with the governor lined up with the building San was in, the loudest resonation of the sirens filled the whole street. The sirens in San’s mind went off as well, while picturing all the obscene things he was going to do to you right after making you a widow.

"The Governor arrived at the CBC." A high volume voice blowing from the radios snapped San from his ominous state that your message brought upon him.

He carefully leaned over the barriers to look down and see that the two imbycles came back on their positions. Everything was going along with his plan.

"Outside sectors first, check in!”

The command was directed at all the buildings the furthest from the main building, including San's hide spot.

He had no more time to waste. Stuffing the backpack with his previous outfit and accessories, he pushed it back behind the electrical box. With fast but quiet steps and his back to the wall, he began walking down the stairs, while putting a silencer on the gun with rolling movements.

He halted on the lowest mezzanine, standing on the last step with his legs slightly astride. The gun hung in his grip, free hand wrapping around his wrist. With his head high, he was waiting for the rest of things to go his way.

"Guardian Apollo, Olymp 5 secured. I don't see any suspicious movements. Over."

The blurry voice on the radio got to San's sensitive ears. Remembering the map and the amount of the sectors there can be, the report must've come from the sniper on the roof above his head.

Olymp certainly meant the upper positions. Very poetic. What an effort. Now he was expecting two men downstairs to do their last stand.

"Eenie, meenie, miny-" San hummed playfully, mocking the dramatic situation the unit was heading to. He patiently stroked the trigger as he was warming it up for the action.

It took a second for him to hear what he expected the two corpses to be.

"Achilles, Hercules, Hades 5 secured. Over."

San couldn't help but smile wide, exposing the white, sharp teeth, the deadly glow lighting up his gaze.

"Moe."

The heroes' namesakes, now foolishly relaxed, still managed to notice a black figure stepping on the last set of stairs. They had a chance to look in their doom's eyes before two quick, muted bullets ended up in their skulls.

As expected, no one heard or saw anything as people kept shouting support while moving towards the center to create a crowd of love for their politician friend.

No eye caught the moment of two heavy bodies falling back on the wet concrete that was instantly stained with crimson colors.

San had less than a minute to hide the dead. Thankfully with the strength he possessed that was more than enough. He ran down the stairs and grabbing by the back of their collars, he seamlessly dragged two corpses towards the dumpster and one by one, threw them inside of it. Before the trash bags covered the crime, he took the radios off the guards and lowered the volume to the maximum on both devices. The radios continued to blow up with next sectors check in's, which would catch the unwanted attention.

The job on the ground was done. No need to rush when it came to Olymp cleansing. He climbed to the top floor in peace, causally passing by an older woman who was taking her dog for a walk. The black labrador seemed uneasy when San entered his space. Maybe because of the blood scent on his gloves or the bad intention he was carrying up the building. The man only mischievously smiled at the growling pup that immediately got yelled at by his owner.

He finally faced the door he was about to go through. Oiling the hinges and the knob during the spot preparation a few days ago now was a life saver, letting the Reaper slide out on the roof without the smallest obstacle.

San slowly closed the door behind him and waited a moment, before kneeling down and looking over a wall at the next problem he had to deal with. Somehow San had to manage to get rid of Apollo who was guarding the southern part of the rooftop behind the entrance, without being noticed.

Apollo was laying down in a full sniper position, inspecting the surrounding buildings and streets through the rifle's scope. His back was facing San.

The idea of letting him see the face of a man that was about to become his killer was tempting. But Apollo wasn't anything like San's previous targets. Maybe he wasn't the smartest but he was a soldier that might've gone through the same training. If he went through the same training, he could've actually become a troublesome obstacle.

Without any second thoughts, a hitman pointed the gun at the back of the sniper's helmetless head, presaging a fatal shot. The bullet cut the air with a muted, sharp bull whip sound. Upper part of Apollo's body dropped on the ground, lifeless heavy arms pulling the rifle down with them.

The black figure responsible for shortening the life of the god of sun wannabe, soon crawled up to the body to not be seen by other "eyes". San had to make sure that the shot was final. There was no possibility it wasn't. Still, it made him feel more secure.

He rolled Apollo on the side and pulled the rifle from underneath him. Just as San reached for his jacket to start putting out his own weapon's pieces, he noticed another piece of luck today. There was no need for him to assemble his own rifle, since the dead guardian used the same model. The version was older but it still would get the job done.

"Thanks, man. You know, I always feel bad for killing my own kind."

While looking into his victim's opened but lifeless eyes, he reached for something in his pocket. Then playfully slapping Apollo's cold cheek, he left the mark of the Reaper on it.

"Pity."

San had no time to grieve over that man and his unlucky fate. Pushing the corpse further to the side, he took Apollo's spot before adjusting the rifle back on the stand. It had been a while since he had such comfortable conditions during the assassination. Last time probably during military missions.

"Best day ever." He laughed, both in excitement and sinister at today's fortune of his.

Despite dark blue clouds slowly covering the sky from the east, the sky beyond the horizon still burned, making the town bask in red. The bloody light poured inside the CBC through the glass walls, illuminating everything and everyone inside.

Small tides of adrenaline began to tease his senses. The path was finally clean for the main target's execution, ordered by his political opponents.

Watching the scene through the scope, San made sure that the conference was taking place at the main hall, due to the big crowd of his supporters, party members and media. As planned, the hitman had the governor at the golden plate as he stood on the pedestal while speaking to the people with admirable charisma.

Poor man.

Not only was he about to draw his last breath, his wife was going to scream his killer's name in ecstasy some time after.

With the sun behind San's back, it glared out the red dot sight completely from all the angles but not his. With his hawk eyes and calculative mind supported by experience, he was at the top of his field. He knew how to use his surroundings and conditions, even those not good looking to help him succeed.

Now that he was relaxed, San couldn't stop you from roaming around his head with all the positions he was going to have you in and the surprise he had prepared for his favorite doll. The pricking sensation between his legs at these sinful thoughts as well as the growing adrenaline made his whole body tense up.

"Calm down, San." He whispered, grinning at himself. "You'll get yours soon."

It was time to end the clownfest in that part of Manhattan, before he could move to another. With no obstacle, the red laser marked the politician's side of the head. Everyone else, unlucky blinded by the sun, continued to celebrate his words with shiny eyes and wide smiles on their faces.

San also couldn't help a smile, creeping on his lips. The feeling of unearthly satisfaction tingled his sick ego. He always felt incredibly powerful, holding the right to take or spare lives. He felt like god.

No, he was a god.

"Don't take it personal, Kim Hongjoong. The fact I hold full ownership of your wife's pretty holes has nothing to do with the job." At first his words seemed to be honest, only to turn into a plain mockery. "But damn, it did make it hella more exciting."

The shot was clear, the bullet shattered the widow in pieces to stop right in the target's brain. The governor's body dropped dead behind the rostrum. The blue carpet on the stage, absorbing the growing paddle of blood began turning purple.

Manhattan's eagle, as he was called by his supporters, fell.

San used every second of total shock among the crowd before the panic exploded and the federals would begin searching the sectors. The chaos as well as the lack of idea where the shot came from were the moments that allowed San to escape without a problem.

Leaving the stairway he gulped with big steps, San couldn't help but nonchalantly pat the green dumpster containing new additions to his long list of victims. He indeed left a trail of bodies today.

With a hurry, he walked up to his black Kawaki Ninja that was waiting for him a block away. The hitman went back to looking ordinary, blending into the crowd as a simple biker. San watched the police and ambulances rushing towards the CBC as he was putting the helmet on.

"I'm leaving the mess to you." he whispered, mockingly saluting towards the pacing cars.

Switching his phone online, a message from unknown as well as a bank notification arrived immediately, both related to one another.

Unknown》》 The whole payment has been sent onto your bank account. Good job, Reaper.

The amount of zeros put a smirk on his face underneath the helmet. The job there was done. Now it was time for the second part. He could entirely indulge in his own sweet mission of ruining you.

He closed the eye shield, hiding the devilish expression. His instincts growled along with the bike as he began reviving the engine.

"Aw, Y/n." He laughed quietly, the bike rolled onto the street, joining the traffic. "You're one unlucky bitch."

5.54 pm.

Choi was never late. He also hated when you were late. Many times you were met with an empty room when you did not get there on time. Following the schedule was apparently very important for your lover. That was why you knew his frame would be standing in the hotel room’s door in the next 6 minutes. You still had some time to make yourself look even more irresistible.

As instructed, you turned your phone off before leaving the house as well as you took a taxi to arrive at the hotel. Wig and dark glasses you wore while traveling there, now laid messy on the bed. Necessary measures when you’re a high politician’s wife. You would be totally fucked if the news of your lack of morality came to the light. Not that you personally had a problem, cheating on your husband. Marriage with Hongjoong was a pure business. Elite families union. Still, you wouldn’t only ruin your husband’s career, which you would definitely pay for, but you’d also close all the door to your own future political career.

However, the risk held so much thrill. This sick kind of frisson you were always drawn to. It was addictive. No, you were already addicted.

Trying to fix your hair, you could feel your nerves and excitement alternately raising your heart rate at the thought of what was happening. Your husband was somewhere out there, preaching about freedom and positive changes for the future, surrounded by hundreads and listened by thousands, while you stood here in a hotel room, looking at your refletion in the mirror and waiting for your lover, like a sex slave for her master.

A series of chills run down your spine. Both from your corrupted mind and the click of the opening door. Your eyes subconsciously landed on your phone screen.

6pm.

With no need to rush, as a professional you walked out the bedroom to the saloon. Immediately, your gaze went to a black figure filling the entire door frame with his insanely broad shoulders. The helmet hung in his left hand.

“Like clockwork.” You commented with a shaky voice, watching him up and down like a starving vampire.

Instead of saying something, Choi’s face lit up with an indescribable smile, however the look in his eyes was darker than ever. You stood far away from him but you still could see that indefinable glow in his expression.

“You look…different.” You noticed.

“I’m feeling different.” He replied with an amused but also deep tone.

“It’s positive, I hope.”

You couldn’t deny that Choi was still a mystery to you. And something told you he would always be. No, you didn’t mind. Both of you needed physicality from one another. Nothing more.

The twisted way you two knew nothing about each other, except for every inch of your bodies was the biggest thrill that in your case bordered with slight obsession. Seemingly, it could be his case too as he was the one who called you this time.

The helmet landed on the floor with a muted thud that made you somewhat flinch.

“You’re about to see for yourself.” He grinned, closing the doors behind him and taking a few heavy steps forward. “Personally, I think you’re gonna love every second of it, beautiful.”

“I also have something special for you.” You teased, feeling proud of your new lingerie set you bought just for him.

“I can’t wait.” He purred with a raspy voice.

You watched him as his teeth bite on the gloves finger tips, one by one and slid it off his hands. It was too dark for you to see the dried up blood on the black leather. Then his jacket came undone and shared the same fate as the gloves and the helmet.

“You’re not gonna help me undress?” He snickered at your stillness that clashed with your loud, fastening breathing.

You clapped to activate the illumination system. The saloon lighted up, showing his sharp details to your hungry eyes.

His black t-shirt was completely soaked. Pants of the same color enhanced his massive thighs. Tiny waist embraced by leather belt with an attached keychain to it, showing something similar to a skull and a snake embracing it. His naked arm muscles shone with sweat. Short front strings of hair were stuck to his high and glistening with sweat forehead.

The view took your breath away which failed to escape his attentive eyes.

“And?”

You gulped loudly, swallowing the urge to fall on your knees right there on the spot.

“Shower first.” You ventured, turning around and going back into the bedroom. “I’m not letting you touch me befo-”

Steal arms surrounded you from behind like vines, limiting your movements to the minimum. You couldn’t help but scream, which was muted with his hand over your mouth.

A growl rung in your ear, “Yes you are.”

Holding you deadlocked in his embrace, with his lips glued to your ear, Choi swayed you both slowly towards the bed.

“What’s the point of shower if I’m gonna drip in sweat in a few minutes again. And you along with me, beautiful.” He taunted, sending electrifying waves down your body that contributed to the heavy flooding of your new underwear. “Let’s be eco friendly.”

Your knees touched the edge of a king sized bed when Choi let you go to take care of your white, hotel robe. But even then, you didn’t mean to move. You let him slide the robe from your shoulder, indulging in the curses leaving his lips as your body in the skimpy, black lingerie was exposed to his eyes.

You were embarrassingly weak for that man. The harsher he was with you the better. Because of him calling you first, you become swollen-headed, which made you think you could dictate the rules tonight. What a dumb bitch you were.

Slow movements of hands followed your lines and curves as if you were some Michael Angelo’s masterpiece. Through the bra you still could feel how warm his big hands were. The intense massage of your breast made your head fall backward onto his shoulder. His loud breaths burn your exposed neck and soothe it with kisses and licks.

You desperately needed that mouth and tongue of his somewhere else. Immediately.

“C–Choi…” You called him among the whimpers.

“You’re usually more shameless than requests.” He chuckled.

You understood the digression. Instinctively, you rubbed your ass against his hard rock erection.

“I-I need your tongue all over….” You moaned seductively and when your hand found his, it guided him between your trembling legs. "...her.”

“Filthy slut.” He giggled but you picked up the gulp of his at the wetness his fingers sunk in.

Choi gave your craving pussy a few lazy strokes to gain loud whines from you, before grabbing your hips to make you face him.

You had no time to think as his hand locked on your throat and cold eyes pierced through you.

"You do deserve that wish to come true as a reward for being such a good cumslut for me after all these months. But it's not like you didn't profit from it either." He grinned.

It would have some cuteness to it if not for the ice in his gaze as well as his unforgivable hand around your neck.

"And I don't do things for free."

You flinched as he suddenly attacked your lips with his. However, he kissed you painfully slowly, teased you with the brushes of his tongue as his plan was to make you go insane with lust. Little did you know it was a silence before the storm.

You tried to initiate a more passionate kiss but in response to your attempt, Choi pushed you onto the bed that squeaked at you landing.

He got rid of the wet t-shirt, revealing his sculpture-like body. His muscles were even more defined now then they were when you met previously. You moaned quietly at the ravishing sight.

Choi was perfect, a walking irresistible sin.

With one knee he climbed onto the bed and placing his hands on the sides of your head, he hovered over you.

He smirked at your shameless glares at his lips. You surely imagined them all over you. Choi however wasn't done with kissing you.

This time he wasn't torturing you with a slow pace. He surprised you with his hunger and aggressiveness. The wetness of the kiss went hand in hand with the pool between your thighs. Moaning into his mouth, you tried to pull him onto you. You wanted his skin rubbing against yours.

His hand reached for a pillow above your head to prepare the stage for the act he had in mind but a black object caught his attention. The man broke the kiss and reached for it.

"Is that yours?"

It took a second for you to stop worshiping his muscles and for your senses to come back. The realization hit you suddenly and you froze. Now you knew what he saw and what he was asking about.

Oh no.

A gun hung around his finger. Your gun.

"Y-yes." You stuttered. "That's for precaution."

"You planned to kill me if I fucked you the wrong way?" He growled with widened eyes, making the gun rock back and forth above your face.

"No. I always have it. It's just a habit." You explained, telling him nothing but the truth.

He didn't know who you were and you couldn't tell him. Being married to a man with many enemies forced you to wear the weapon with you. Especially when you went somewhere without bodyguards.

Choi seemed to not be listening to you as he stood up and started wandering around the room. His quick eyes studied the gun from all its sides.

"Walther CCP M2 380." He said coldly. "Admirable."

You felt somewhat unsafe, seeing a man you basically didn't know with a gun while being upset. The fact he knew the model from one look was even more concerning.

"I sleep with it under my pillow everyday. That's just a habit." You continued to convince him.

"I understand."

He didn't sound like he did. Choi turned to you with a smile, heavily hued with danger. His free hand grabbed a chair and dragged it in front of you.

"You named it?" He asked as he was playing some game.

The man sat down on the chair with the gun now correctly placed in his hand. And what was worse, pointed at you.

"No." You replied with a worried voice. "It's just a gun."

"How about Apollo?" His rhetorical question was followed by a mischievous laughter. "It's Apollo from now on."

He didn't load it but it was unhelpful for you to feel better.

You sat down at the edge of the bed, your faces aligned. "What are you gonna do?"

"Get up." He commanded.

You had no choice but to do what he said.

"Come here." Another command.

Approaching him as close as you could, you now domed over him but you felt nowhere near empowered. You flinged at the coldness of the gunmetal on your womanhood.

"W-what are you doing?"

"It's more about what you are gonna do, beautiful."

The gun pressed even harder, now brushing your clit. A series of brutal chills possessed your body. Despite the situation, your treacherous cunt throbbed in excitement.

"Ride it."

Your eyes widened with surprise. So he wasn't mad, he simply chose to use the occasion for a foreplay. That indeed suited him.

"That seems pretty unsafe." As much as you wanted to do it, a peace of caution decided to come through your corrupted mind.

"It's not loaded." He chuckled at the sudden change in your voice. You didn't seem to be so scared anymore. "If you don't ride Apollo and make him sticky with your cum, you're not getting the real gun tonight. And I promise you…"

With this he solidly grabbed his clothes cock.

"This one is loaded.'

You allowed him to push the weapon between your legs completely. The feeling of thrill filled you up again. You looked down at Choi's dark eyes that watched you intensely.

As he wasn't saying anything, you slowly began moving your hips back and front. You felt how the slight rugged surface of the metal only added more friction.

"Ahh.." you inhaled sharply as the gun moved on its own since his holder decided to fasten the process.

You watched Choi sitting there, leaning backward on the chair like he was a master of anything. At the first sight he looked relaxed and amused. However, his jaw muscle tensing up with each of your moans gave him away. He barely controlled himself as you stood there between his legs with his hand mercilessly pushing the gun, spreading your swollen folds.

The feeling was overpowering. The flood of pleasure made you lean forward, supporting yourself on the chair's frame.

"Fuuuuck. It feels so good."

You looked at him with hazy eyes. He was smiling widely before stopping his movements.

"Fuck yourself on it." His eyes glowed while looking up at you.

You didn't have to be told twice. The need for release was enormous and you were so close. The wetness completely soaked your underwear and started leaking down your thighs.

You rode the gun as fast as you could to reach the highest pleasure. The thought alone that it was a dangerous weapon that fucked you was enough to double the excitement. The heat waves hit you one after another.

"Cum on it." He ordered, seeing you holding onto the last string of control.

The gun got caged between your cramping thighs. Your knees went weak from all the convulsing attacking your body. The release birthed some beautiful sounds from your throat. Apparently so sweet and satisfying, it broke him.

He abruptly got up, pulling you close by your waist to him as his other hand, tightening around the gun, was brutally working between your trembling legs.

The slick and uneven metal surface rubbed you in all the right places after he put more pressure on your dripping pussy.

"Fuuuuuck, Choi!"

You were coming hard, looking into his cold and maniacally needy eyes as he walked, or more like dragged you backward. He dropped you back on the bed as soon as your high disappointingly weakend.

"Damn." He clacked, watching the surface of the weapon, completely wet. "I'm surely gonna miss it."

His words didn't get to your ears. Your mind was anywhere but there with you.

It wasn't the end of dangerous weapons for you. Apollo fell somewhere on the floor to be replaced with its equally deadly friend. A sudden click of the opening knife brought you back from cloud nine. You tried to glance at Choi but next you knew you had the cold blade at your neck as well as a whole man hovering over you.

"You–"

"Maybe after I'm done with you, you'll regret not using that gun on me." He hissed while slowly drawing a trace from your trachea to the carotid.

You didn't dare to move, feeling the sharp object moving down your sternum. The tightness of the bra disappeared. He seamlessly released your breasts. The knife was very sharp, too sharp.

Only when the man let out a satisfying adlip at the view, you felt the stinging pain.

"Blood suits you, Y/n." He smiled at you, his lips getting close to your wound.

His long tongue felt hot against your skin. Even in a dimmed light you noticed your blood marking his muscle as it collected all the droplets from a small cut.

"Mhmm.." your lover hummed as if he was tasting the most delicious thing.

That action should've absolutely creeped you out. But the result was completely different. Familiar vibrations returned between your thighs, making you unconsciously move them, attempting to rub onto him. Your breath became loud, faster. You wanted more of that madness.

Nothing escaped his attention. Without a word, he licked the wound, occasionally sucking and grabbing your erect nipples between his teeth.

"More.." You whined quietly.

The muted laugh that left his throat woke the worst behavior in you.

"Yes, you're right. Let's cut some more, shall we?" He trailed off, his fast eyes wandering down, "How about…here?"

The blade cut through the lace of your underwear like butter, uncovering the wet truth.

"Bingo."

With the top part of the knife, Choi began painting abstractions on their sensitive womb. He watched you closely, feeding on your cute whimpers. Your eyes getting more drunk, your actions becoming more desperate and lewd. It was activating the devil in him and all the accompanying demons in.

San felt undefeated, controlling life and death, people and whole cities. No rules, no morals. He embodied freedom. Walking by the club, then buying it along with people working there. Murdering a politician, then senselessly fucking his wife. He could do everything he wanted, he got everything he desired and no one could stand on his way. He was…Yes, yes he was. And he was about to make you admit it.

A whip sound cut the air. The knife ended up in the wall. You had no chance to react or ask what happened as two fingers entered you immediately.

You grabbed his wrist at the sudden invasion.

"Aah fu-"

His free hand embraced your neck and pinned your head to the bed.

"Say I'm a god." The man demanded, thread hanging in his tone like his all existence depended on it.

You looked at him, overwhelmed by the unbearable teasing he kept sending upon you with his two digits deep inside you. He curled them up, uncontrollably had you jolting your hips upwards but his unforgiving hand pinned you back on the mattress.

"Say it."

The man's face darkened in its expression, eyes beamed with something unknown to you, something that made you gulp at the first glance but the lust and hunger for danger was stronger, quickly killing all the doubts in the bud.

"You're a god." You breathed out, "You're…my god."

The grasp on your neck tightened, making you squirm in need. Choi smiled as if you gave him fulfillment, cheeks adorned with dimples did not match his mad eyes.

You trembled at the fingers sliding out of you. All you could do was lay with bated breath and watch as he rested wet digits on his stuck out tongue and then sucking your juices off.

"You cunt already worshipping me." Choi laughed.

Next he sat down and with one, quick and effortless move he turned you over. Spreading your legs, he buried his handsome face between them. His tongue immediately went busy mercilessly lapping on your dripping folds.

"Fuck." You moaned, gripping tight onto the sheets.

With loud grunts, he was devouring you as if he intended to suck the soul out of your being. Slurping on your essence, abusing your sensitive clit with the tip of his organ of taste, he had you mumbling nonsense.

To have a better access to your soaking folds, he put his arms around your ass and made your back bend downward with his hands interlocked on your waist.

"Fuuuck!" You whined between heavy breaths when this position let him reach for your clit. You heard those crazy sinful sounds his mouth produced in contact with your flooded pussy.

Smoothly transitioning to a new tactic, San gave you a few long, full licks, tongue relaxed and flat, that traced from your pussy up to your ass. He kneeled before your exposed bottom.

"Did I ever tell you your slutty holes have been my favorite?" He hummed.

The man didn't wait for the answer. You weren't even able to give it to him. He aggressively spat on your spreaded cheeks, lubricating your holes with his thumb.

"Show me they still are fitted for that title."

Two fingers return to penetrating you but this time it was different.

You gasped loudly as Choi did not share his plans with you.

The walls of your cunt welcomed his middle finger, while your ass engulfed the index finger.

You screamed in pleasure of being fucked in both holes. The tempo was crazy, bringing you to the edge at a fast pace. His long tools on torture attacked your sweet spot from all the directions. Your sight began getting blurry. The drool oozed from your mouth. You were about to cum hard again.

If that wasn't enough, Choi let his other hand wander underneath you to take care of your lonely bud with merciless circle motions.

"Fuuck fuck fuck I'm cumming!"

As if you said something wrong, his hands suddenly left your trembling body.

"What-"

"I don't do things for free, remember?"

Choi ignored your disappointed surprise. Unmoved by your whines, he turned you on your back again.

Your senses were dulled but your whole body was working at full speed, every nerve awaked. You felt like erupting.

He didn't seem to care as he was busy unbuckling his belt and getting rid of his black cargo pants and heavy boots.

You gasped at the full view of his naked frame. The glistening cock proudly throbbed, teasing you with the pleasure you felt dizzy thinking of.

In complete silence he grabbed your ankles and pulled you close to him. Positioning you to kneel, he stood up on the bed, with you between his legs.

It was unknown to you why he went for this position. For him, his chase for power and ultimate control manifested itself in that. The higher he could get, no matter the situation, he would go for it.

His dick aligned with your face. You were confused at first but then you understood his needs. You licked your lips at what you would be tasting next.

"Take him as you want to be taken, beautiful. I only take fair deals." He said, shamelessly grabbing his pride and directing it towards your mouth.

And you did. You attacked him with all your power, forcing him to support himself on the upper wooden frame of the bed that was screwed to the ceiling.

"Yeah, just like that. Good girl." He praised you, trying his best to not betray his state.

With the help of your palm, you took him whole, sucking the life out of his tip that was turning more and more purple from the tension.

After a minute of blowing him off like there is no tomorrow, he firmly grasped your messy hair to your head to keep it in place. He fucked your mouth like a starving beast, throwing spirited curses in the air.

You felt yourself dripping on the sheets. Reaching back, you couldn't remember ever being this wet before you met Choi. The need for his dick, no matter how he was going give it to you turned you in a dumb, brained washed whore. And you loved it with every inch of your body and every corner of the darkest parts of your mind.

He laughed in an approaching ecstasy.

"That motherfucking throat of yours was made to take dicks- Ahh shit, yes!"

He put on speed, ruthlessly hitting the wall of your throat. You couldn't control your breathing anymore and began sweating. Tears fell down your heated cheeks. Thick drool from the corner of your lips. You began choking.

"Shit shit shit!"

The overpowering pleasure made his knees go weak. He held your head and fell down along with you, pulling his cock out of mouth at the landing.

"Fuck, you almost made me cum, you little slut." He laughed maniacally while looking at your fucked up face.

You had problems focusing. Trying to calm down your breathing made your throat hurt even more. However you still smiled at him, lying there between his thighs, with his quivering cock above you. Him cursing you out made you proud that you took him like a champ. It only whetted your appetite.

He tilted his head at the side with an act of worry on his face. That little asshole.

"Aww my poor baby." He pouted and began wiping the drool and teras of your chin and face. "Worked so hard to get my cock inside you, didn't you? Yes you did."

The sweet face faded as fast as it appeared and gave its place to the real lunatic.

"Imma quench my thirst first. I know you're drowning down there." With this, he slapped your thighs apart and dived right into the act of eating you out like a gluttonous addict.

San seemed to overly enjoy your taste and how wet you were from all the teasing and edging. Sounds that came out of his mouth were proof of that. His dramatic grunting, moaning, groaning added vibrations to the already rough pleasure your cunt was graced with.

With his tongue, hard and tensed he made circles around your clit like a hungry vulture.

"Please, don't sto-op. Just like that." You whined with a husky voice.

The man kindly, almost suspiciously decided to listen to your begging as he continued. He seemed to be leading you towards the needed release and you hoped he would finally allow you to take it.

Sudden invasion of his fingers made you grab his short black hair, as a silent plea to not stop.

Rubbing onto your sweet spot, he began sucking on your sensitive bud. Despite his mouth being busy, you still could hear his muted laugh. San had your body and soul under his total control, just like he liked it.

You sensed the warmth starting to spread from between your thighs up your belly and chest. You could feel the ecstasy would be crushing in a second now. Every nerve in your body was ready to pass the pleasure further.

"Ah I'm cumming hard." You announced it with a high pitched whine.

At your words, his lips and fingers left your shaking body. You screamed in anger. You really felt like crying like a child denied the things it wants.

It was all a game for him. You were just a toy, a doll ready to act the way he wanted. He didn't care about your pleading and state.

"Noo! Choi, no please don't stop! Please! I want to cum. I need to…" You begged, annoyed at him and desperate for him. Unconsciously you tried to bring his face back to your puffy folds but he was stronger, not only physically but also mentally. He could get you to do anything.

"But this is so much fun, beautiful? Look at you trying to fuck yourself on my face. Pathetic. " He grinned at your hips moving. His plumb lips and chin were glistening from all your wetness.

Winking at you, he sent his hand under your thighs and grabbed your waist. Like a bag of sand, he rolled you both over. You found yourself kneeling with his insanely handsome face underneath you.

"Ride my fucking mouth like I knew you dream of every night. You better flood my tongue with your cum, you hear me?" He growled at you with a threat. "I'm having this cunt drowning me."

You looked at him with gratitude.

"Yes, sir."

With a devilish smile, Choi stuck his tongue out and accepted your pink velvet like it was created to fit only the shape of his lips.

The pathetic desperation had you immediately go to work. Will slow movements your rode his face back and forth. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. You stared at two voids, full of the unknown, but not the unknown you want to explore, but the one you run away from. His eyes devoured you as if he was putting some curse on your mind to worship him in all his might. And you had no choice but to let him.

After a few trials to find a perfect spot and pace, you found yourself with his tongue deep inside you where he moved it vigorously in your pulsating walls and your clit hitting against his nose.

"It feels so good, aah."

He slapped and hashly squeezed your ass to command you to go faster. You were supposed to ride his mouth like a desperate slut you were.

Your hips fastened. The euphoria, due to being previously denied, was coming quickly. You were ready to welcome it with open arms and you were not going to let Choi stop it.

Caging him between your thighs, you fell forward, supporting yourself with your hands. You closed your eyes shut, all that mattered at that moment were your body needs.

His tongue penetrated your corners, never giving in. The man allowed you to do anything, he wanted to feel you crushing only with a minimal effort. Choi had your juices dripping down his chin and neck. He couldn't help himself, and when you came undone, screaming and trembling on your entire body, he grabbed your hips and pinned you deeper into his face – mouth now clinged to your convulsing pussy, sucking all the cum like a nourishing nectar.

"Choi, fuuuck!"

"More." He groaned, detaching from you, "More!"

You had no capacity to stop him and you let him throw you on your back again. With blurry eyes you saw him picking up something from the floor.

It looked like the bra and panties that he previously cut.

Using their stretchy fabric he quickly tied each of your knees to the bed frame behind you. Now you were laying there, extremely astride, which wasn't a problem with you being flexible. He had your womanhood on a shameless display. You were too distracted by the slow fade of the powerful orgasm to protest.

The man climbed onto you, looked in your eyes and smiled, biting his lips.

"Good girl." He cooed, caressing your cheek. You tried to catch a breath and Choi saw this as an opportunity to slide his thumb inside your opened mouth. Obeying, you sucked on it. "Fuck. I feel like my balls are about to explode. Congratulations."

He raised himself up and watched the scene he prepared. You waited there, sanity hanging on the thinnest of threats. Whole covered in sweat, drool and with exposed holes, all for him to demolish.

You woke up a little at your pussy being slapped by his hard rock cock.

"Choi..." you whispered.

But there was no time for conversation. He slid inside and it was the only time he did it slowly and carefully. After adjusting to your tightness with a few pushes, the pace dangerously increased.

"You're on a pill, aren't you?"

"Y–yes." you replied while gripping on the sheets from your walls being unmercifully stretched. He was thick, incredibly thick.

His face suddenly appeared before you, his body weight pinning you to the bed.

"Tsk, shame." Fingers wrapping around your neck, "It'd low-key be fun to see your belly round with my bastard and then struggling to hide the fact it's not a governor's kid."

It was your first mistake. Melting over his huge dick fucking you, instead of listening to the last words. San knew you wouldn't register it. He had you stupid, brainwashed.

"Wouldn't it?" He demanded to fuel his satisfaction.

You were not able to answer, not with him rubbing you in all the right spots. The heat crawled up your back and cheeks. You were on fire.

"I-"

He slid out to reposition but you had no chance to even whine in disappointment as he abruptly came back inside.

"WOULDN'T IT!?" He growled out.

Now he, supported on his hands and feet, pounded into you with the help of his entire weight. His pelvis raised and fell with even pace but ruthless intentions.

"Yes, it would. Yes, it would. YES, IT WOULD."

You held onto his forearms, accepting all the thrusts.

"You're gonna take every drop. All the load! Like the Real. Cum. Dump. Ster. You. Are." He spat aggressively and every sylab meant one powerful pound, making the hotel bed screech underneath his power.

"Yes, sir!" You cried out from potent pleasure.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the voice stuck in your chords. The breathing became harder, almost impossible. Your face distorted from unimaginable bliss. You didn't feel the pain from your ties sunk into your skin, causing the nasty marks. All your senses accepted was the stone, veiny dick, making a point that San owned you entirely.

He stopped moving, realizing you were close. He buried himself as deep in you as he could, held it for a two second and then abruptly left your interior. Repeating this act a few times had you convulsing in madness.

You came, crying out his fake name which put a smile on his perfect, sinful face. He began riding your high with a contented expression until it suddenly gave its place to surprise.

He was coming.

"Fuck." He hissed.

His orgasm arrived faster than he planned. Your pussy cramped around him, drastically sucking him in. Grabbing you neck with both hands, he returned to fucking you like a maniac, chasing his high.

You were tired but you could feel yourself cumming again. You were too sensitive, the pace and his muscular hands on your neck was enough to stimulate you.

"I'm cumming again!" You whined, fully crying now. It was too much, but it felt so good.

"Milk my fucking dick out! Take it all." He managed to sound harsh before his voice broke along with his movements getting sloppier.

You both came, sending moans and grunts each other's way. Hot load exploded inside you, flooding your walls and all their corners.

San slid out of you only after making sure every last drop that left his balls ended in you.

You closed your eyes and let your drained, tensed body sink into the soft bed. Worrying about a big amount of sperm leaking out of you or how you would bring your senses back and more importantly walk, you left it all for later. You needed to rest, catch a breath.

You didn't notice how quickly San got up until you heard him laugh. Chills run down your spine and you look at him confused, terrified. The laugh wasn't normal for someone who just had the best sex in their life. It belonged to someone who just won a deadly deal, who just made a fool out of somebody else.

"What are you doing?" You asked, seeing him picking up his clothes and boots.

He didn't grace you with his eyes and attention until he wasn't fully dressed up.

"It may sadden you, beautiful. It surely saddens me but…" He chuckled and ripping the knife off the wall, he hid it in his pocket. "This is farewell."

Your heart sank. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before finally shouting, "What are you talking about?!"

"Simple. I got what I wanted. I don't enjoy you anymore." He smirked and you felt like ripping his face off.

You attempted to untie yourself but the knots were precisely tied, like the military style. And mercilessly cut into the skin around your knees.

"You must be joking-"

Choi silenced you by climbing the bed with his face suddenly being close to yours.

And the knife at your throat.

The man smiled, with his eyes wide open and you finally saw the truth. You saw the devil, but you were so convinced it was just an act. Trembling on your body intensified. It wasn't roleplay. All of that, from the first meeting up till now, it was not a play.

Choi used you. All this time when you thought you walked on firm ground, you were actually walking on the thinnest ice.

You never claimed you knew him well. But you did think you knew him enough to trust him with that little secret he was also part of.

He was a total stranger. The man might've been a serial killer. A fucking cannibal. You knew nothing. Did he really threaten you with those weapons? What if you did something wrong, would he kill you? He could've killed you. What did you get yourself into?

Seeing the unpleasant enlightenment in your eyes, he leaned even closer and pecked your shaking lips like the most gentle lover. You let him, as you were absolutely frozen.

"Once you release yourself from this, I advise you to check your phone, watch the news. I'm pretty sure the whole country is looking for you right now, ma'am." He limited his volume to the whisper, "I want you to know…it was me."

With this, he lowered himself on you, kept looking in your eyes, he pecked your abused, still exposed core.

"I wish you a good life, Mrs. Kim."

And he left, not turning back at your screaming and shouting.

You were cold as someone poured a bucket of icy water on you. Frost filled your veins. Every ounce of excitement, mood from just a few minutes ago vanished. You were now crying. Not from the overpowering euphoria like before but from pure fear. Crushing fear.

He knew. Choi, if that was even his name, he knew who you were. The question was – since when? For how long he had been playing with you?

Fighting a panic attack, you somehow managed to release yourself from the harmful ties. The tightness and rough edges made the skin under your knees bleed.

You climbed off the bed, almost falling on the floor due to how sore you were. Everything hurt; from your head to toes.

The room lit up when you got to the switch. You rustle your phone out of your purse and turn it on. You were gulping back sobs.

The unanswered calls flooded the screen. From your bodyguards, your parents and members of your husband's party as well as workers of his office.

"I'm pretty sure the whole country is looking for you right now, ma'am."

Your heart dropped to your feet.

The TV remote, resting at the coffee table caught your attention as if it was calling your name. Everything in your body was telling you to not watch the news. That it will crush you. You had all the worst scenarios running wild in your mind; sextapes released, scandals and rumors. This psychopath could do everything. Your true, but unacceptable to public nature could not be your little dirty secret anymore. You know that no matter what it was he had done, you were ruined.

There was no way out. You would have to face it sooner or later. At first the screen showed you a sitcom with the audience laughing at dialogues between two comedians. You felt like you were the object of their taunts. Pressing the button that led you to the next channel, you already felt your life ended with it. You wished it would've prepared you for the darkness you got thrown into.

THE GOVERNOR OF MANHATTAN SHOT AT THE CBC.

ASIDE FROM THE GOVERNOR, THERE WERE THREE MORE VICTIMS – AGENTS THAT PATROLLED THE AREA.

FBI CONFIRMS THE KILLER WAS A WELL TRAINED SNIPER. TERRORIST ATTACK?

Your legs failed to hold you up. Falling on your knees, every part of your body went limp. Head was about to explode from a sudden migraine as if too much information flooding your mind attempted to melt your skull. You felt like a nest of scorpions exploded inside you, stinging all the organs you needed to live.

"Shot?" You repeated the news, it was the only thing you could do right now – asking questions into the empty sphere, "Hongjoong's…dead?"

The tears had finally fallen from your hollow eyes. What was happening? Is it some sort of prank, a stupid joke? You could feel your sanity slipping away at an alarming speed.

FBI QUICKLY DISCOVERED THE BUILDING FROM WHICH THE HITMAN GAVE A SHOT. ON THE SPOT THEY FOUND A STICKER, GLUED TO THE VICTIM'S CHEEK. THE STICKER SHOWS A SKULL WITH A SNAKE. IT'S BEING INVESTIGATED AS A POSSIBLE MARK OF THE KILLER.

Skull and a snake? A scene flashed before your eyes. You had seen it somewhere. Yes, you definitely did. You saw it today.

"I want you to know…it was me."

You felt nauseous and even though you tried to control it, you vomited on the white carpet, already stained with blood. Trying to push away the truth was impossible. Choi told you to meet him up in secret, then he killed your husband. Next he came to fuck you, knowing exactly who you were and that you were unaware of what was happening outside the hotel. He played you like a fool, ruined your life. He stripped you of dignity, shame and life. He killed your husband. Took your future away from you and your family.

You began laughing. Just like Choi before leaving you in this hell. You were done. What was there left for you?

"Nothing." You answered yourself.

Subconsciously, your eyes wandered to the gun laying half a meter away from you. You crawled to it. Grabbing it unphased, you slowly loaded the weapon.

"Nothing." You repeated with an empty heart.

The gunmetal felt cold under your chin. You couldn't believe how easily you contributed to the destruction of your own life that you so carefully planned.

Your mind was filled with the faces of your friends and family, as well as Hongjoong's. Now the tears you shed were for both of you. Maybe if you gave him a chance when he asked for it, you wouldn't be here today.

You smiled, remembering his beautiful smile, his warmth and began putting pressure on the trigger.

THERE IS NO CONTACT WITH THE GOVERNOR'S WIFE, KIM Y/N. DID SHE ALSO BECAME A VICTIM OF THE KILLER? WAS HE WORKING ALONE?

You quickly put the gun down as your thoughts changed the flow.

You saw all the loopholes in his rash plan. Dots begged to be linked. The news header wasn't far from the truth. You were a victim of the killer. He may have left you alive for some reason but he did use your vulnerability. Choi hurt you and threatened you. He injured you. He also admitted to the murder. He wore the same keychain as the sticker that the FBI found. You looked down at your body. Additionally, you were covered and filled with his DNA.

The light appeared in the dark tunnel.

A sudden buzzing of your phone tamed the brainstorm unfolding in your mind.

The secretary of your husband's office kept trying to reach you. After all Krystal was also your friend. No wonder she still tried to reach you when all the hope was gone for others.

You slid the green button.

"Oh my God, Y/n! Where are you!?" Her voice blew up from the speaker. "Are you ok!?"

It was time to begin the act of the century. Everything was allowed to bring hell upon this psychopath.

"He said he had dirt on Hongjoong. That if I met with him alone and gave him money, he would leave us alone." You sobbed into the phone. "He took the money. He…hurt me, Krys."

"Jesus Christ, Y/n?! Where are you?" Her tone was even more panicked.

"Mandarin Oriental, apartment 5. Please, come quickly. He left but he can come back." You mumbled in fear because the possibility of your words happening wasn't that unbelievable.

"I'm on my way! Call the hotel service now and tell them everything. Tell them to call the police. Do you hear me? You can't be alone!"

You mumbled something in response and put the phone down.

After ending the call, you indeed got worried he might've come back after realizing his terrible mistake. You immediately darted toward one of the nightstands, as much as your strength and injured legs allowed you to and grabbed the phone. The service was soon to be there.

His words rang in your ears suddenly. Choi told you to call him a god. Idiot got too comfortable in his ego.

He was a product of seven deadly sins. Prideful in thinking he was invincible, untouchable. Led by wrath, lust and gluttony, he wanted all the power and control over life, death as well as all mysteries of your body and when he tasted it, he couldn't get enough. You witnessed how jealousy blinded him that he could never be what his sick mind desired. He could never be like a god. Gods don't make stupid mistakes, don't miscalculate. And at last; the cherry on top, he was too lazy to clean after himself.

"We will meet again." You taunted, putting on the robe to hide your bruised and cut body, an important piece of evidence.

You calmly sat back down on the messed up bed while wiping your cheeks from all the tears and smudged make up. You felt horrible but you didn't plan to be alone in misery. If you were meant to fall, you would take Choi down with you. He was about to meet his doom and the doom wore your name.

"Aw, Choi. You're one unlucky son of a bitch."

@nateezfics as you asked ❤️

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spif-lol · 6 months

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Reasons why the simpsons hit and run stream is jerma's best stream

it's ELEVEN HOURS LONG

you get to witness his slow descent into madness as he insists on playing the whole game in one sitting

I can watch it when i replay the game, would recommend makes it way more enjoyable

he spends too much time doing really bad impressions trying to copy voice lines for the game and yelling "HIRE ME IM AVAILABLE"

He decides to confess half an hour in that he knows nothing about the simpsons and has only seen like one or two episodes

this is ten minutes after he references a specific episode, and then proceeds to get told off for 'spoiling' an episode of the simpsons (from like 1995) by chat

Chat also somehow manages to convince him that ten year old boy Bart Simpson's famous catchphrase from everyone's favourite family animated tv show is 'eat ass'

In general it switches between him refusing to believe things people tell him about the game despite being true and falling for obvious lies

he starts the game going 'lol wouldnt it be funny if you could run over simpsons characters' and then jokingly drives towards civillians thinking they'll jump out of the way. they go flying. he is so confused

the dissonance between early and later parts of the stream are palpable. It turns from a cheerful and lighthearted exploration of a funny simpsons game that he refuses to take seriously or accept that it could genuinely make him angry, and transforms into a desperate race against time, his computer and his own hubris as he seeks simply to finish the game so he can sleep. This stream destroys him.

the way the stream highlights are named on his youtube is hilarious. "Jerma will not get angry at the simpson's hit and run" -> "Jerma might get a bit angry at the simpson's hit and run" -> "d'oh"

it's extremely funny how many time he's convinced he's in the last level of the game, only to be wrong. the first time he thinks that is in the first section and hour of the stream

easily his most rewatchable stream (this is gonna cover a lot of dot points)

the amount of tragic irony and foreshadowing in this stream is almost cinematic.

at the very start of the game he complains about the music being too loud and monologues about sounds and over stimulation of game music bothers him, which of course will be very funny in the finale

he also comments a few time at the start about how annoying homer's random voice lines are, and says 'oh god he's gonna repeat that a thousand times before the end of this game'. he's right, and it nearly drives him crazy by the final mission

speaking of the final mission(s), the second time he has to transport the toxic sludge from power plant to the school he like pauses the game and very seriously addresses chat like 'alright tell me right now are the next three levels also me driving the nuclear waste to the school that cant be possible right'. and then just accepting in defeat that that is in fact how this incredibly stupid and difficult children's game finishes

when he first races against the malibu stacy car and gets destroyed he gets mad and says he wishes he could drive that car. then when he gets to drive it in later levels he quickly decides its his favourite and maintains that until the end of the game

on rewatch... you hear him audibly crack open a can that chat demands he prove to them is soft drink and not alcohol like A WHOLE HOUR before The Incident and it's a little like watching a disaster movie where you see the characters laughing and having fun little knowing how they are being hastened towards their own doom... like chat keeps bugging him about it, he keeps making excuses, he keeps sipping the drink. they bring attention to it so much and you listen to it just knowing the pain that is yet to come. dramatic irony at its finest and most heartache inducing

15. ohmyfucking gaaaawd no! no... god... ICANDOITINAJUMP! ..... BART. WHERE IS HE??? BAAART!!!! AAAUUGH

16. actually fr there's a lot of memorable jerma lines in this stream, rewatching it is like watching a jerma funny moment compilation

17. the final couple of levels where he is getting steadily more overwhelmed to the point of ferality, and then he says he has an idea and goes to the sound menu and turns everything off. voice lines. music. sound effects. and then we watch him play the level in complete silence. and it actually helps him focus its really funny

18. the whole tragic sequence where he is in the FINAL LEVEL. he has played it so many times and just missed it by a few seconds. he is tired. he is hungry. he just wants to get off stream and eat a BURGER. he is focussing as hard as he can. he is almost there. he runs over too many things and the police are after him. but its okay. he's doing it! he's gonna make it!!! he gets to the school with time to spare and is sucked up into the end of the game beam. it's over. except then the police get sucked into the beam as well. he gets arrested in the beam. which teleports him and the car out of the beam. WHICH MEANS THE TIMER RUNS OUT AND HE LOSES. so he has to do it all over again. it's actually so so so funny and also something i think i personally wouldn't survive if i was in jerma's position in that moment

19. okay we have to talk about The Incident. bc i already alluded to it and bc like, i couldn't not talk about it. as stated above Jerma cracks open a can so you can hear it and chat immediately accuses him of being an alcoholic. he adamantly insists that it is a soft drink not a beer but they refuse to believe him unless he proves it by showing camera. he's playing on a modded ps2 pc port or whatever of the simpsons so it's a complicated setup and he explains that it would be too hard and also he's shirtless so they will just have to believe without seeing. chat continues to harass him while he goes on to play the game, specifically most of the lisa level. he laughs it off but eventually caves, gets up and get a blanket to cover himself and then alt tabs, holds his can up to the camera and says 'alright you satisfied? that might have just fucked up the game'. so then he tries to tab back into the game and it. crashes. hard. so hard that the game won't actually turn back on. so jerma's cursing and fiddling with the controls and saying its over. then it finally reboots and the game works and he's so relieved and it loads and he realises that he has lost SO MUCH PROGRESS. he's back at the start of the lisa section. this is truly the turning point of the game where it goes from being a fun experience to a nightmare gauntlet

20. on a related note: jerma waiting with bated breath *sound of simpsons game booting back up after refusing to for far too long* jerma: yeeeAAAAAH

21. im watching it right now as i replay, which is why im thinking about it obv. so i will almost certainly have more to add to this

#jerma #obviously jerma dollhouse and so on streams are probably the most iconic but simpsons hit and run is like #wonderful in a completely unplanned way #I'm also partial to his house flipper streams #if just for the bits and being a space for jerma to create the most insane things imaginable with only the slightest prompting from chat #vaguely unrelated: when my housemate got home and saw me playing simpsons hit and run while #rewatching jerma's stream at the same time they said that think if someone analysed my brain #and exposed a different brain to my content consuming process their brain would explode #so mean....#i was also listening to one of the jay eazy megaman remixes at the same time. my awesome mind

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ecoamerica · 25 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 6 months

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Part 12 - it was just for fools

"We were searching for reasons to play by the rules, but we quickly found it was just for fools." -Mary On A Cross by Ghost

Masterlist Part 11

Wonder Woman, with her extensive diplomatic training, was the perfect speaker to bring before the United Nations council.

There was something regal about Diana, something that demanded attention from all genders and ages, her accent smooth and light with eyes hardened with barely concealed anger at what brought her to their door.

The Anti-Ecto Acts.

Diana understood war. There was very little she hadn’t experienced where it concerned the subject, from betrayal to a very personal loss, but now she had another chance to draw from her past.

Prevention of a war.

Only fools would believe a war against the Infinite Realms, the land of the End and death incarnate, that which holds every afterlife for every belief, was winnable.

Every death on humanity’s side, was another solider for the King of the End.

That was yet another point.

The Once and Future Star King, Vanquisher of the Dark, Protector of the Light, Great One…. Was a Protector spirit. The spirit of a child who died wanting to be saved.

Diana sighed, awaiting her fellow heroes in the meeting hall, Black Canary, Superman and Batman (with his ever tiny Robin) were already present. Red Robin was sat with a tablet, reading through a collection of data instead of conversing.

It was almost seven on the dot, the meeting filled with nearly all members of the League, when Constantine portals in with a flask in one hand and a book in the other.

“Not a word.” He grumbles around an unlit cigarette held between his lips, unceremoniously dropping into an unoccupied seat.

Despite the surprise of John Constantine being on time for something, much less a Justice League meeting, Diana had other concerns to deal with.

Namely, the repeal of the Anti-Ecto Acts.

An unexpected summoning was a shard of ice in her spine, twisting like a knife of betrayal in the nerves, utter agony. Jazz had little warning, little time to brace herself before she was hooked behind her navel and yanked.

Thank the Ancients she wasn’t in the shower, because whoever had the audacity to summon the Ghost King was not going to receive an eyeful for their trouble.

Jazz allowed her armor to materialize, a slick sensation of water down her back soothed the lingering pain of the brutal summons, but her back plate soon settled firmly in place and irritated the nerves more so.

Just as her helmet locked into place, sealing her fully into her armor, green smoke announced her arrival with a dramatic flair she couldn’t find humor in.

Rested on one knee, head bowed, the Regent was quite an intimidating sight for the uninitiated.

Her helmet, full coverage with a crown of green shards embedded into its pulsing ebony metal, only allowed the green tint of her eyes to shine through. Once her head lifted, the several shivers her gaze got proved how effective it was at unnerving others.

With a breath, the Regent stood.

“You have tried to summon the King of the End, why?”

John Constantine was many things- a liar, a cheater, a non-believer- but he was certainly not a fool. He’d been against summoning the Ghost King, knowing full well to whom they would be dragging unwilling instead. Somehow the title of Regent failed to comprehend to most present, which was not Constantine’s fault in the slightest.

(Hey, at least he was mostly sober summoning, right?)

(Had to give credit where it’s due.)

Bats was unamused with Constantine’s first warning of ‘Do not fuck with’ when Phantom had first shown himself, but this was ridiculous really. A message was always better than trying to summon the King, who would want to be interrupted right?

Yet again, the Magician was overruled.

(At least he didn’t have to sell his soul this time.)

(The Phantom already gifted the glued together remnants to his Regent.)

(Morbid as it was, at least John knew it was in better hands than some half wit demon he’d scammed.)

No one answered before the Regent spoke with some amusement lacing her words, “I should have known a summon from you, Constantine, would be painful.”

(Was it a good or bad sign that the Regent didn’t immediately call him ‘Sad Trenchcoat man’?)

Diana politely interjected, “Greetings, My Lady. We apologize for the unfortunate experience and will endeavor to do better in future meetings.”

(Good old Diana.)

“Greetings.” The Regent replied, helmeted head slightly tilted as she studied the others present before her, having been ignored for the time being.

Wonder Woman pressed a fist over her heart with a slight bow of her head as she spoke again, “May I introduce the Justice League and it’s founders; Batman, Superman, and myself, Wonder Woman. You are familiar with Constantine, who is a member of Justice Dark.”

“I am the Regent of the Realms, Lady of the Acropolis, you may refer to me as either.” Jazz intoned, serious as was only right for her titles. “I’ll ask once more… Why.”

Constantine, despite the familiarity he held with Phantom, shivered in the presence of the Regent. The owner of his soul could command he turn on his allies, zap away his free will with only a few words. Sure, he had some doubts that the Regent would, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t. The AEA proved that the Infinite Realms had every right to declare war on the Living and its citizens would be drafted to fight in the Legion, regardless of mortality status.

John was many things- a liar, a cheater, a non-believer- but he was not a soldier or a fool.

He would be called to arms, as a magic user and battle-blooded soldier. There would be no choice, no deal he could make that would see his fate change.

It was fortunate that the Regent didn’t want a war, but there was only so much she could do to hold back the growing tide of angry entities that wanted vengeance on parents, siblings, and children taken from them.

(Ancients above and below, he needed a drink.)

It was times like this that brought the Regent back to her long days of training in the Acropolis. The echo of steel against steel, dodging ecto-blasts, deflecting weapons with her bracelets, Pandora’s steady words…

Pandora was many things- Leader of the Acropolis, Guardian of Hope, teacher, advisor, so on and so forth.

Pandora might be a ghost, an Amazon tasked with guarding her box, a Warrior of the ages past, but she was ultimately the Ancient of Peace.

The Peace she never knew in life, war-hardened as she was. Raised with one hand clutching a weapon and the other an open palm, Pandora was a diplomat at heart. War had not been kind to her, but still, she taught her pupil (the Regent) the importance of listening.

Many issues could be solved when one took the time to shut their mouth.

Draw weapon, draw blood.

Aim at nothing you’re not willing to destroy.

If your opponent believes they have the upper hand, break it.

(These are just a few rules of war.)

(She knew them all by heart.)

(Each one ingrained on her body, scars a testament to a faith in her training and herself.)

The only rule Pandora had given her where to concerned Peace was this:

Reach for it, but know that hearts aren’t so easily swayed as minds.

It was why Jasmine never bothered trying to negotiate with the GIW. Their hearts were black and there was no changing their minds.

Here she was, summoned by the Justice League with their own diplomatic trained Amazon at the ready. Pandora would be proud of her sister-in-arms, because despite the Regent’s unknown threat potential Wonder Woman had not reached for the sword at her side. Instead, she’d done a traditional Amazon greeting, from one warrior to another, a sign of respect that Jasmine had not expected to ever receive outside the Acropolis.

“We had expected to summon the King, but were unaware of a Regent, my lady.” Wonder Woman spoke, but Constantine interrupted whatever she would have said next.

“We wanted to discuss the possibility of war against the living, Regent.”

Jasmine snorted, the voice-modulating function of her helmet made it sound funny to her ears, “Blunt as always, Constantine. You’re worried I would order you against your allies?”

The Sad Trenchcoat Man blinked once, twice, “Bloody Hell, you don’t waste time, do ya?”

“You possess the power to command Constantine?”

That question had come from Lady Gotham’s first Knight, steady with no discernible emotion in voice. His hands were resting on his utility belt, which was a bad sign of his current judgment of her character.

“For the sake of honesty, yes, Dark Knight, as the keeper of his Soul Remnants, I could command the Magician to do my bidding.” The Regent continued, “However, it was a gift and Phantom is fond enough of the Sad one that I wouldn’t use it unless I had no other choice.”

“What would constitute ‘no other choice’?”

Huh, Jasmine was starting to understand why Phantom chose Batman to give the Ghost Files too. She could feel the determination and protectiveness radiating off his soul, a familiar (though less powerful) sensation she only got from her little brother.

“War.” The Regent retorted, “I’m beginning to understand why Phantom would choose you, Knight.”

Constantine perked up a bit, “Didn’t you avenge him?”

“Yes.”

Wonder Woman came forward again, “My Lady, we wish to discuss the conditions of Peace between the Living and the Infinite Realms.”

Jasmine smiled a bit sadly, though no one could see it, “I would be honored to.”

If anyone asked, Red Hood did not swoon when he witnessed his future wife girlfriend kick a man straight in the balls so hard he saw God.

Jazz was a beacon during a Gotham night, beautiful red hair seeming to catch fire with every light that danced across it, shoulders back and head held high his girl resumed her steady pace towards her apartment. This was a typical night for them, minus the would-be mugger and Jazz being unaware of the Red Hood following from above to make sure she got home safely.

(Jason hadn’t been able to convince her to carry a gun.)

(Nonetheless, he knew his girl could take care of herself, but that didn’t stop the worry.)

Hood wasn’t convinced about the safety of the area bordering his Alley, The Ridge, with two relatively unknown metas acting as it’s Vigilantes and seeming to drive down the crime rate in the neighborhood to near extinction faster than he’d seized control of his own territory. It was odd that the metas weren’t crossing into the Alley, seeming to go around it and more into Gotham proper when they decided to roam, as if they respected the Red Hood claim more than the other bats.

(Wasn’t that just a hoot.)

(Two non-bats had more respect for him than his own family.)

The Ridge was the lesser known little brother to Crime Alley, with its residents being mostly three-jobs and a drug problem demographic, but with Phantom and Regent the area had begun to show a bit more life. Sure, most of the builds were on the wrong side of dilapidated, hanging on with duct tape and a wad of gum, but when it was just bright out enough- no matter the time of day- Phantom’s ice can be seen glinting from miles around as it curved itself around foundations and floors to stabilize the structures. It hadn’t melted in the slightest the two months since it’s been formed. Hood had even tried to get a sample for testing, but the ice would not budge. Hell, he’d even taken a cheap shot at it- nothing. Well, except for the fact that you could now see a bullet encased within the ice.

Phantom was a chill guy, apparently.

(Hood internally groaned at the unintentional pun.)

(Quick mental note made to shoot Dick in… well, the dick.)

Red Hood had been gritting his teeth against the warm sensations of protect-anxiety-nervous for days, sensing danger every time he closed his eyes. Something had invaded Gotham and was messing with the Pit.

No, not the Pit. The Pit was gone, no longer bubbling in his gut or green edging his vision, it was gone and replaced with something else.

Something that gave him trouble, but was definitely a step up from Pit Madness.

(And what a time for it to vanish, with Jason dating Jazz no more bloody nightmares when she was in his arms.)

He’d followed that ball of anxiety in his chest across Gotham, unconsciously avoiding Bruce’s usual patrol route and he climbed up to one of the gargoyles that kept vigil over the clock tower. Barbie hadn’t opened the comms to ask him what the hell are you doing here, but he wasn’t going to waste what little time he had with Phantom before he had to return to the Alley.

The kid wasn’t older than Tim, but was ethereal in his form that felt cold to Hood. There wasn’t any sign that Phantom had been hurt by the Drs. Fenton, but Hood was all too aware of how looks could be deceiving.

(The fuckers had vivisected him.)

With every word passed between them, had Hood confirming the Ghost Files information to be accurate as far as Phantom was concerned. He was a teenager, a ghost in Gotham who was under the protection of the Regent and Ghost King.

(Though incredibly corrupted, Barbara had been able to find a few frames of clarity.)

(Lo and behold, the death of those bastards.)

(He knew he recognized the armored figure, but couldn’t figure it out.)

(It was right there on the tip of his tongue.)

That same ball of anxiety loosened its hold with Phantom, a sense of protect-worry overwhelmed whatever else was in his chest.

Phantom was a kid, ghost or not, vigilante or not.

(No more dead robins.)

It took two days and twelve hours for Jason to finally connect the dots between Regent and why in Hell he felt he knew the armored knight.

Jazz was in her kitchen, hair braided and swinging back and forth against her back as she hummed and swayed in time with the soft music playing. His girl looked good in his Gotham Knights t-shirt, shorts revealing her toned thighs and legs, neckline of her borrowed shirt riding low enough to reveal several hickies he’d left on her earlier on the couch. Pride warmed his chest as he watched his darling Jazz, love for her settled deep into his bones. He knew she was the one for him, no going back, even if she didn’t know everything about him-Red Hood, his death, etc.

Jazz was made of steel and iron, forged with love and cracked with betrayal. Who had betrayed her in the past was obvious, her parents, their death must’ve been a mixed bag. Not to mention making the decision to allow their souls to be claimed by the Regent of the Infinite Realms.

He had no doubt she would be unafraid of his nighttime persona, but he didn’t think he could handle her judgment of his past sins. He loved her too much and wanted to be good.

The music stopped, dragging Jason out of his thoughts to find Jazz watching him with concern plain on her face.

“Jace?” She lightly called for him, helpless to her he rose and gently wrapped her in his arms, her head tucked comfortably under his chin.

“I’m ok, Jazz, just have a lot on my mind.”

His girl hummed lightly, the sound vibrating slightly through Jason’s chest where her head rested.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“They’re not worth that much.”

Jazz pinched his side in retaliation for his lightly self-demeaning comment, but ultimately let it go. Another reason he loved her, she didn’t tolerate his bullshit. She’d been horrified to hear his comments about his self-worth, as much as he was joking, and had firmly threatened to punt his ass into the sun if he didn’t start getting a better self-image.

To his credit, he listened and began seeing Harley for counseling, which he knew he’d needed when he’d finally gotten a working braincell again after his dip in the line green Kool-aid. He’d put it off long enough, believing that the Pit wouldn’t let him remain calm enough to discuss his abandonment issues and mental health.

The Pit wasn’t churning in his gut anymore so any anger he felt was all Jason’s, and Jason’s alone. It was oddly satisfying to know that he was once again responsible for how he handled his anger.

Jazz never really demanded anything, only insisting on some boundaries at the start of their relationship when it was difficult to keep his hands to himself while she was in his sight. His darling was the same this why she set those boundaries so they could get to know each other without it just devolving into sex.

Sure, they have done some heavy petting and Jason definitely liked leaving his mark on her, but they hadn’t felt compelled to go further. Now that they had been together a little over a month the heat between them settled into a slow summer in his blood, no more threat of them acting like a pair of degenerate dumbasses with lesser brain function.

Not that Jason would ever be against having sex with Jazz, he loved her and wanted to know her in every sense, but he had to confess several things before he could allow himself to be put off guard with his pants down. The big Y-incision scar on his chest was horrific and Jason didn’t want to scare his girl away before he had a chance to come clean. He wanted, no, needed Jazz to accept every part of him- life, death, Jason and Red Hood. He was ready for her to know the truth.

What he wasn’t ready for, like last time, was the bomb.

A/N: Yes, beta read by @meditating-cat! Great beta reader, really appreciate the quick response and notes. Thanks!

We're gonna have a bit of a time jump between the summoning and the cliffhanger, which means that Jazz being summoned happens after. I wrote it this way for a reason... I think. Don't quote me on that.

Anyways, special red tint this time, because I just watched Death in the Family for the first time before writing this part and...I didn't like it. No, I'm not sure why I don't either. Jason is my favorite character for a reason.

Now, if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go read Wayne family adventures to make myself feel better.

Thanks for reading!

PS: 3k words???

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dpxdc #jazz fenton #dc x dp crossover #regent!jazz #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #cliffhanger #i couldn't resist #*points at jazz* this badass can hold so much angst #*points at Jason* this simp can hold so much angst #Yes beta we live like Jason Todd!#wonder woman #john constantine #constantine may be an idiot but he's not stupid

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