#✦ ╱ behavior. — ❛ business in the front，knife in the back.

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #5 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

It’s been an entire month since your argument with Toji. Neither of you had said a word to each other, not even when he comes to pick up or drop off the kids. He keeps his distance, not bothering to wait by the door with them, instead he waits on the sidewalk and waved goodbye to them when you open the door. It seems like the kids haven’t took notice of the hostility between you and your ex husband and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want them to witness anymore than they already have. Occasionally, Naya asks if she can go over Toji’s more often, growing an attachment to her father, but you always have to explain to her that he’s busy working during the week. It breaks your heart knowing that your children aren’t growing up with a fully family. You know deep down, they question why they have to go back and forth between houses just to see their father, or wondering why their mommy and daddy aren’t together like the other kids. But knowing how young they are, they wouldn’t understand a single thing. Hopefully when they’re older, they’ll learn from the mistakes you and Toji have made.

You and Nanami have been going strong recently, finding that he makes you forget about the hardships in your life. He hasn’t met the kids yet, which you don’t plan on letting happen anytime soon. He’s a nice guy, great intentions, but you want to take things slow before overstepping your own boundaries. He has took you out on two more dates ever since the first one, and each time he impresses you more and more. It feels like you can be open with him, comfortable without getting judged. He’s also a great listener, not saying a word and just letting you vent all of your feelings out until you feel better. He puts a smile on your face when he knows you’re feeling down or thinking about something that stresses you out. And most of all, he doesn’t mention what happened that morning when Toji showed up at your house. You know he heard most of everything and it was embarrassing to say the least. Toji embarrassed you.

“Mommy, can I go see daddy?” You daughter tapped your leg as you were cutting up her and megumi some fruit to snack on.

You looked down at her with a soft smile. “Tomorrow, baby. You’re gonna see him tomorrow.” You popped a raspberry in her mouth, her favorite fruit.

“Dad’s been drinking a lot.” Megumi walked into the kitchen, stealing a piece of pineapple off of the cutting board.

“What do you mean?” You immediately question, placing the knife down.

“Beer. He gets uncle Gojo to buy it for him and drinks a whole bunch,” he explained. Your lips pursed together, inhaling deeply before you let out a frustrated sigh. You shook your head in disappointment, trying not to show the anger flowing through you right now.

“So can we go see him? I’m worried!” You daughter batted her eyelashes at you, a small frown on her face. No wonder she’s been asking to see Toji so much, it all makes sense now.

“How about you guys call him to say goodnight, mommy isn’t driving right now. Plus, it’s late.” You picked up the knife, cutting more pineapple into smaller chunks.

“Please! Please! Please, mommy!” You daughter grabbed onto the hem of your shirt, nearly ripping it off of you with the way she was begging.

“Naya, cut it out! Mom said no!” Megumi slightly raised his voice, an annoyed look on his face.

“I wasn’t asking you, dummy!” Her brows furrowed in anger, her gaze now on her brothers.

“Shut up, idiot!” Megumi shouted back.

“Aye! Cut the shit!” You warned, sharing looks between both of them. Naya huffed, stomping her little feet over to the living room. “I don’t need you guys calling each other names, alright? Naya, I said no, and that means no. And Megs, stop being mean.”

“She called me it first!” He exclaimed.

“I don’t care who did it first! I don’t need y’all fighting. Naya, come here!” You shouted from the kitchen. “Eh, stay here.” You pointed at Megumi when he tried to walk away. He let out an annoyed sigh leaning against the counter. “Naya!” She turned the corner with a frown on her face, eyes watery as she looked up at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” As soon as you asked her that question she burst into tears. Before you could even place the knife down, Megumi picked her up and held her in his arms while she cried.

“Ny-ny, what’s wrong? I’m sorry I called you an idiot, okay? I was mad, but I shouldn’t have said that,” he said softly, rubbing her back as she cried on his shoulder. The little girl hiccuped softly, wrapping her arms around her brothers neck tightly. “Do you wanna tell mommy what’s wrong?” He asked, looking at her. He brought his hand up to her face, wiping the tears.

“Da…daddy!” She sobbed, trying to catch her breath. “I wanna see…daddy!” Tears streamed down her chubby cheeks as she laid her head back on her brothers shoulder. Megumi turned to look at you, and you could see that he was also worried about his father, even if he wasn’t as vocal as it. “Mommy!” She cried.

You reached your hands out, picking her up from Megumi and holding her to your chest. “You really wanna see daddy?” You asked, wiping off her tears with your shirt. She nodded, still whimpering and sniffling. She rubbed her puffy eyes, little fists holding onto the fabric of your shirt. “Okay, we’ll go see daddy then. Megs, put your shoes on.”

You held Naya’s hand as you walked up the steps with them. She had a little smile on her face, excited to all hell to see her father. Megumi rang the doorbell, waiting patiently with you in the cold. “You excited, huh?” You chuckled, looking down at your daughter.

“Who is it?” Toji’s deep voice spoke from the other side of the door.

“Dad, it’s us!” Megumi answered. You were a little nervous to see him, knowing that this was going to be an unexpected surprise, but you had a very valid reason for showing up here. Toji unlocked the door, confusion written all over his face when he seen you and his two kids standing outside in the cold. He barely had time to register the situation before Naya ran over to him and hugged him.

“Daddy!” She yelled followed by a giggle.

“Hey, peanut!” He picked her up like she weighed nothing, sitting her on his hip and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “What’re doing here so early, huh?” He asked with a smile.

“She’s been asking about you all day…all week actually,” you spoke. “She started crying cause she missed you so much, so I brought her over here,” you explained.

Naya fiddled with her dads lip scar, as Toji stood there and stared at you for a few minutes. It’s like he almost forgot how you sounded, it’s been so long. “Well, uh, would you like to come in or are you just dropping them off?” He asked, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’ll come in.” The only reason you accepted was because you wanted to speak to him about his drinking problem that Megumi suddenly brought up.

“Hi, buddy.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair, giving him a kiss on top of his head. He closed the door behind you, your eyes immediately taking notice of the four beer cans that sat on his coffee table. A rush of disappointment came washing over you as you continued to stare at them. “Don’t mind the mess,” he awkwardly chuckled, quickly trying to clean up as he sat Naya down on the couch.

You stuffed your hands in your coat pocket, standing in the middle of the living room as he grabbed the cans and quickly took them into the kitchen. “I told you,” Megumi whispered. Toji walked back into the living room, looking at you.

“So, uh, she was crying you said?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “she…she was like full on sobbing for you. Scared me shitless at first if I’m being honest.”

“Ny-ny, you can’t be scaring mommy like that.” Toji walked over, pinching her cheeks until she giggled. You watched the scene in front of you, seeing the smile on your daughter’s face when she was with Toji made your heart swell. “If you want, I can take them early, and come pick up their stuff tomorrow. You look…tired.”

You shrugged. “Just a little. It’s been a long week.” Toji nodded in agreement, standing back up right as all you stood there in silence while the two kids watched whatever was on the tv. “Toji, can I speak with you?”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s up?” He asked.

“In private.” You stared at him.

“Um, yeah. Megs, Ny, stay here, okay? Watch whatever you wanna watch.” He smiled at them.

“Megs, can we watch The Incredibles again?” Naya clung to her brothers arm as he grabbed the remote.

You followed Toji down the hallway to his bedroom. “How have you been?” You asked, shutting the door behind you.

“Me? I’ve been fine. How are you?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your eyes were locked onto him as you stood there by the door. Toji had a confused expression on his face. “Something wrong?”

“How have you been, Toji?” This time you asked with more sternly, clenching your jaw.

“I don’t get…I don’t get it.” He looked around the room as if he was being pranked, awkwardly rubbing his hands on his thighs.

“Megs told me about your drinking problem. You got Gojo going out and buying beer for you all the time? Getting drunk when the kids are here?! I can smell it on your breath!” You yelled in a whisper, folding your arms across your chest.

“I only drink enough to get tipsy, okay? I wouldn’t get drunk around the kids, y/n,” he sighed, holding his head in his hands.

You scoff, “like that makes it any better. Naya keeps asking about you because she’s worried, crying her eyes out because of it, because she misses you. Megumi doesn’t say a word about how he feels, but I can tell he’s scared, Toji. You had four beers on the fucking coffee table when I walked in!” You exclaimed, eyebrows raised.

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m dealing with shit, y/n.” He rested his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor.

“We are all dealing with shit, Toji, but you gotta be there for our kids! I’m not here to argue with you, okay? I just want to know what is going on. The kids want to know what’s going on.” You looked at him with concern as he avoided your gaze completely, head still hung low.

“I can’t say it.” Toji looked up, finally locking eyes with you.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because it won’t matter, y/n. I’ve made mistakes, and I’m dealing with them. That’s all there is to it.” He bit the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes.

Your expression softened. There was no need for Toji to explain what he was talking about because you already knew. He was talking about you guys, your relationship, your marriage, your family. “It wasn’t just you, Toji,” you spoke softly. “It was me too. We grew apart. It happens.”

He shook his head. “You were only acting that way because of how I was treating you. It’s not your fault so don’t say it was, please. I’m the one who fucked it up. Back then I fucked it up, and now I’m fucking it up. Every time I got something good going on I find a way to ruin it.”

“Toji…” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He stood up from his spot on the bed and walked towards you, his muscular and tall frame trapping you against the door. “I’m sorry. I miss you, I miss what we had, mama. You gotta understand me.” He cupped your face in his hands.

“No, no, don’t do that.” You shook your head, removing his hands from you.

“Do what, mama?” He asked softly.

“That, Toji.” You kept shaking your head at him. “I can’t. We can’t.”

“Why not? Hm?” He tried to catch your eye.

“I’m with someone else,” you bluntly said. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, almost deafening in your ears as you stood there against the door. There was nothing but silence from Toji. He took a step back from you.

“Is it him?” Toji asked. All you did was nod. He scoffed. “So y’all are really together?”

“Yeah, we are,” you answered. “He treats me good, makes me happy.”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” Toji questioned.

“I didn’t say that!” You looked at him in disbelief.

“That’s not what you said the last time we spoke to each other. What you said fucking hurt me. You hate me. You wish you never married me. Remember that?” Toji cocked his head to the side.

“I was upset, Toji.” You rolled your eyes.

“You just don’t say shit like that, y/n. Never once in our entire relationship together have I said some shit like that to you.” He stood there, waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t.

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to say! I came here because Naya was worried about you and Megumi told me about your drinking problem. That’s all I came to talk about! I didn’t come to talk about what we had going on, okay? So just fucking drop it. I’m happier, I’m better. I’m getting treated the way I deserve to be treated for the first time in my life." You snapped.

“For the first time in your life? Are you hearing how you sound right now? I know I wasnt perfect, but I did everything I could to make you happy. Yes, there were some things I could’ve done better, but I loved you like you were supposed to be loved. Why else would I marry you?” Toji walked towards you again.

“Then you should’ve showed that love. Just know I’ll be better without you.” You opened the bedroom door, walking down the hallway.

“Y/n!” Toji shouted. He followed after you as you ignored him. “Y/n!” He shouted again.

“Stop following me, Toji! I’m leaving!” You screamed.

Megumi and Naya looked over at both of you, seeing you two yelling. “I’m not done talking to you!” Toji grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“Well, I am!” You snatched your arm back from him.

“Stop it!” Megumi yelled, covering his little sisters ears.

You and Toji looked over at the kids sitting on the couch, Naya’s eyes watery, lip wobbly as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Megumi shared looks between both of you, concern and fear written on his face. “Come on, let’s go back home. You’ll see daddy tomorrow.”

“I wanna stay!” Naya pouted.

“Naya, please, get in the car.” You sighed in frustration, grabbing her hand.

“No! No!” She started screaming, dropping to the floor and kicking around, throwing a tantrum.

“Get up, Naya! I’m not gonna ask you again!” You lifted her off of the floor, grabbing her hand again. She pulled away from you, running over to Toji, hugging his legs.

“Fine. Fine. Stay with your father. I’ll see both of you in a few days. I love you.” You grabbed your keys from your coat pocket, walking to the front door, slamming it shut behind you.

“Come here, baby girl.” Toji picked his daughter up.

“You two always fight! I hate it!” Megumi stormed out of the living room and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, making Naya jump. Toji stood there in the living room with his daughter, a lump forming in his throat. He let out a choked sob, immediately hiding his face from his daughter.

“Daddy, don’t cry.” She wiped his tears away.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He sniffled. Your family was falling apart right in front of Toji’s eyes. Megumi is looking for a way out of this family at such a young age, indulging in video games and tv to drown out the real problems. Naya conflicted with her feelings, crying constantly because of the state both of you were in, affecting her. Nothing is like it was before. Toji hated this was happening. This is was last thing he ever wanted.

You sat in your car outside of his house, wiping your tears from how overwhelmed you were. You were at a loss on how to fix this. Each time you tried, it ended the same. You were fearful it was going to keep getting worse, worse until there was no way to reverse the damage done.

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[evabby]

— LOVE ME ANYWAY !

✧ bbf!abby anderson x reader ✧ wc . . 1621 ✧ developing feelings for abby anderson was never part of the plan. you’ve been told multiple times by your brother that she’s off limits — but the spark between you both is impossible to ignore, even if it risks her friendship with your brother and your family’s trust.

CHAPTER ONE > CHAPTER TWO

abby started showing up at your house more frequently, always with a casual excuse. maybe your brother needed help fixing something, or they had plans to work out together— but no matter the reason, she was there. and every time, her presence seemed to pull all the air from the room.

at first, her behavior toward you was subtle: a lingering glance, a teasing comment here and there. but as the visits piled up, so did her boldness.

one afternoon, you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when abby walked through the front door. she tossed her gym bag to the floor, her muscular arms flexing as she adjusted the strap on her tank top. your brother followed behind her, muttering something about abby stealing his favourite protein bar.

abby grinned slightly, plopping down on the couch next to you. her thigh brushed against yours as she stretched out, her presence overwhelming in the small space.

“hey, move over,” you said, shifting slightly to put some distance between you.

she didn’t budge. instead, she leaned closer, glancing at your phone. “what’s got you so distracted?”

you rolled your eyes. “nothing that concerns you.”

“oh, come on,” she teased, her voice low enough that your brother, now in the kitchen, couldn’t hear. “you keeping secrets? i’m hurt.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, but before you could respond, your brother called from the kitchen. “abby, stop bothering her.”

abby grinned, leaning back against the couch. “i’m not bothering her. right?” she turned to you, waiting for a reply.

you didn’t answer, focusing on your phone and ignoring the way your heart raced.

as the days went by, abby’s flirting became harder to ignore. she’d find excuses to stand closer to you, to brush past you in the hallway or lean over your shoulder while you were busy. her teasing remarks grew bolder, often laced with double meanings that left your cheeks burning.

one evening, the three of you were playing cards at the dining table. your brother was focused on his hand, muttering about his terrible luck, while abby leaned lazily in her chair, watching you with a smirk.

“your poker face is terrible,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement.

“maybe ’m just bad at lying,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone light.

abby raised an eyebrow, her grin deepening. “good to know.”

your brother groaned, throwing his cards on the table. “i give up. you two can play without me.”

as he walked away, abby leaned slightly closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “i think i like playing this game better anyway.”

your brother began noticing the way abby acted around you. at first, he dismissed it as her usual teasing, but it wasn’t long before the patterns became clear.

one afternoon, you were in the kitchen making a sandwich when abby came in, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.

“need some help?” she asked, though her tone suggested she had no intention of actually helping.

“no thankyou, i’m good,” you said, focusing on spreading butter across the bread.

abby stepped closer, reaching around you to grab the knife you’d just set down. her arm brushed against yours, and you froze, the proximity making your pulse spike.

she stood behind you as she buttered your bread. you stood there silently, confused but not about to ask any questions.

the moment was broken by your brother walking in, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced between the two of you. “abby, seriously? do you have to hover?”

abby shrugged, stepping back. “just trying to be helpful.”

your brother didn’t look convinced. “yeah, well, she doesn’t need your help. go sit down.”

abby raised her hands in mock surrender, but as she walked away, she shot you a quick smile, leaving you flustered and your brother visibly annoyed.

the tension came to a head one evening after dinner. your brother had gone out, leaving you and abby to clean up. the two of you worked in relative silence, but the air felt charged.

as you stacked plates in the dishwasher, abby leaned against the counter, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“you’re a good person, you know,” she said suddenly.

you paused, frowning. “are you okay?” what was she talking about?

“your brother,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the door. “he doesn’t appreciate you the way he should.”

“that’s.. just stupid,” you said, turning back to the dishes.

abby stepped closer, her voice soft. “is it?”

you turned to face her, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. she was standing too close, her sharp blue eyes locked on yours.

the sound of the door opening shattered the moment. your brother walked in, his expression darkening as he took in the scene.

“what’s going on here?” he asked, his tone sharp.

“nothing,” you said quickly, stepping to the side, bumping into her arm.

abby stepped back and crossed her arms, her smirk returning. “just helping clean up.”

your brother’s gaze lingered on her, suspicion clear in his eyes. “we need to talk,” he said, gesturing for abby to follow him outside.

you watched through the window as they argued quietly in the backyard, your brother gesturing animatedly while abby remained calm, her arms crossed.

when they came back inside, the tension between them was palpable. your brother didn’t say anything to you, but his warning glance at abby was impossible to miss.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed— and that it was only a matter of time before it all came to a head.

the kitchen was filled with an uncomfortable stillness, the kind that lingered after something unsaid hung in the air. abby had moved a few steps back, but the weight of her presence still loomed heavily over you, and you couldn’t seem to escape the heat between you two. the playful, teasing edge to her voice had dissipated, replaced by something more unreadable, like she was waiting for you to make a move.

you avoided her gaze, focusing on wiping down the counter even though you could barely concentrate. your heart pounded in your chest, your mind a mess of conflicting thoughts.

“you’re awfully quiet,” abby said, her voice breaking the silence but doing little to ease the tension. there was a playful lilt in her tone, but something deeper, sharper underneath it. “what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

you forced yourself to meet her gaze, and the intensity in her eyes made your pulse quicken. she was waiting, her presence pulling at you in a way that made it impossible to look away. it was like she knew exactly what you were feeling, and maybe she did.

“i’m not sure i understand what’s going on,” you replied, your voice softer than you intended. “you act like you don’t care one minute, then.. you’re close, and i—” you stopped yourself, realising how much you’d already said, how vulnerable your words made you.

abby’s gaze softened slightly, her eyes flicking over you before she leaned casually against the counter. “i’m not doing anything,” she said, her words slow and measured, as if she was choosing them carefully. “just hanging out. nothing more.”

you wanted to say something, anything, but the words were stuck in your throat. part of you wanted to shout that this was more than just hanging out, that everything between you two had shifted, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. not when you were so unsure about what any of it meant.

abby noticed your hesitation, she noticed the way your shoulders tensed, how your gaze faltered under the weight of her presence, causing her lips to curl into a smirk as if she found the uncertainty amusing. “you don’t have to be so tense, you know,” she teased, her tone light. “i’m not here to make things complicated.” she paused. “just take a breath.” she took a single step a little closer, her movements slow and deliberate, and your heart skipped a beat. “i mean, unless you want me to make things complicated.”

the way she said it left little room for misunderstanding. “that’s not—” you stepped back, putting distance between the two of you, your pulse racing as you stumbled over your words. “just… stop, abby. this isnt funny. and it’s.. it’s a bad idea.”

for a moment, abby just stared at you, her expression fading into something unreadable. she studied you for a long, tense moment, as if trying to gauge your reaction. “i’m not doing anything wrong,” she said, her voice quieter now. “i’m just here.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. it felt like she had trapped you in a corner, caught between your feelings and the nagging voice in your head telling you this wasn’t right. abby wasn’t offering you clarity. she wasn’t confessing anything. she was just.. there.

“i should go,” she finally said, her tone shifting back to a casual indifference. “you look like you need space.”

before you could respond, she turned toward the door. her movements were deliberate, confident, and though she didn’t make a show of it, you could sense her hesitation too. she glanced back at you just before she stepped out of the room, a fleeting look that was almost apologetic. but she didn’t say anything more.

and just like that, the door clicked shut behind her.

you stood there, frozen in the silence, your mind still spinning. abby had come so close to crossing the line, and yet she never did. there had been no confession, no admission of what was really happening between you two. just unspoken understanding that, for now, nothing would change.

but the space she left behind felt different, as if everything had shifted without either of you saying a word.

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CHAPTER ONE > CHAPTER TWO

@st4r-b3rries

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

"Babe?" Chris's voice echoes thru the apartment, followed by the front door closing behind him. Flipping the heavy comforter back, you pull yourself to your feet, stumbling out of his bedroom. The hardwood floors felt cold on the bottoms of your feet as you made your way to the kitchen, knowing that’s where he’d be. "Jiffy peanut butter, kosher dill pickles, Mcdonalds french fries, and a vanilla ice cream cone," he names off the list of food items you texted him on his way home. 

Chris got his license a few weeks ago, making it a lot easier for him to get the frequent cravings your baby urged upon you throughout the days. Before he’d always rely on Matt or he’d take your car and risk it, not wanting you to drive when you were vomiting every half hour. You let out a sigh of relief once he tells you he got everything you wanted, the ice cream and fries were the only thing your baby allowed you to eat, but recently you’d had a hankering for pickles and peanut butter. "Thank you. Beans been wanting these since last night," you hum, tiptoeing to press a kiss to his lips. Chris leans into the kiss before placing a hand on your belly, "whatever he wants. I know all you can keep down is fries and ice cream, so I got extra," he admits, digging a hand into the mcdonalds bag, and taking out a few fries to shove into his mouth. You make your way to the silverware drawer, pulling out two spoons and a butter knife, quickly making your way back to him to take a spot on one of the barstools at the island.

You watch as Chris pulls one item after the other out of the bag - a half pint of vanilla ice cream, kosher dill pickles, and jiffy peanut butter. Next, moving to the McDonald’s bags, he had clearly got extra for his brothers. Not being able to wait any longer, you fumble with the lid of the pickle jar, desperately trying to open it. Chris bites back a smile at your impatientness, "chill, kid. I’ll get it in a second, geez," he chuckles while his hands are still busy separating the orders. His response makes you huff and sit back in your seat, placing a hand over your belly as you realize Bean was doing somersaults at the smell of McDonald’s french fries, or maybe it was cause your baby’s dad was around. It was very evident that anytime Chris was near, your baby was very active. It didn’t matter if he was touching or talking to your belly, or if he was just simply next to you. His cologne always being a dead giveaway for baby bean to start the bullshit, flipping and kicking you relentlessly until you were uncomfortable. 

You were excited how fast paced your pregnancy was going. You were eighteen weeks in, nearly half way thru your second trimester and your pregnancy. Even though your morning sickness was just now letting up, the anticipation thickened in your gut by the day. The thought of having your baby in your arms was becoming more and more real. 

In the beginning, you had a hard time wrapping your head around the idea of you being someone’s mother. You and Chris’s relationship was progressing fast, and he seemed to be on his best behavior, knowing how he was in the past made you uneasy about how he’d do once the baby was here, but only time could tell. You were just grateful you weren’t going thru these difficult nine months alone. 

Nick walks around the corner, messy haired and sleepy eyed. You watch as he pulls open the fridge door, grabbing a drink, turning to you and Chris, "what is today?" he asks, gesturing towards the ingredients placed on the counter. You groan in annoyance, it irritated you that you didn’t have control over your own appetite, "I’m not sure yet. Either pickles and peanut butter or ice cream and French fries again," you hold out the pickle jar to him and he takes it willingly, popping it open with one easy twist of his wrist, and handing it back to you. "Thank you," you mouth before flipping the lid off to fish out a pickle. 

"Impatient ass," Chris teases, sucking his teeth playfully. "You were taking forever," you mumble as you open the peanut butter jar, tearing the paper seal off, and dipping your pickle into it. Chris and Nick watch you in disgust as you chop down on the pickle. You let a satisfied moan erupt from your lungs as the crunch of the pickles mix with the thick, sticky peanut butter, making baby bean thrash around as soon as the mixture hits your taste buds. "Yup," you cover your mouth as you talk, pointing at the peanut butter, "this is it," feeling accomplished you finally satisfied the pregnancy craving you had since last night. You felt relieved that you and the baby were finally agreeing with something other than fries and vanilla ice cream. 

"That’s foul. Your kid like pickles, it’s gonna be a fucking menace," Nick jokes as he scrunches his face. His comment earns a shit-eating grin from Chris, and you shrug your shoulders, not caring about your disgusting food concoction. There was no way you’d be eating this if there wasn’t a little being inside of you telling you that you needed it. You dip the pickle again, and Chris speaks up before you can take another bite, "let me try." 

You raise your eyebrows at him, surprised that he was even asking. He didn’t even like pickles. "Chris, if you try that I’m literally going to puke," Nick chimes in, slapping a hand over his mouth as he watches Chris take a peanut butter covered pickle from you, "I don’t know. She makes it look good, man," Chris says as he eyeballs the savory goodness nervously, looking at you for confirmation. You shrug, "you probably won’t like it if you don’t like pickles," telling him before taking a few french fries from the meal he placed in front of you moments earlier. 

You look over at Nick, he was already plotting on his next works, a smirk laid on thick across his lips, “no balls.” Chris furrows his brows at his brother, “I have balls. My girlfriends pregnant,” he shoots back, leaning towards you. "Not enough hair on to take a bite of that nasty ass -" Nick's words come to a halt as Chris chops down on the pickle, "oh my god. Chris, you’re disgusting!” You watch as Chris’s face contorts with repulsion, laughing with Nick as tosses it down on the counter, gagging while he runs to the trash can to spit it out, "think m’gonna be sick," he calls out before making his way back to the counter to take a drink of his Pepsi, "yea I’ll stick with the fries and ice cream."

"Yea, good plan," you tell him, patting his back before fishing out another pickle to dip. 

Wc - 1186

An - Back with another one, Baby Bean has only let sweetheart!Reader keep ice cream and mcdonalds french fries down (obvi cause its Chris's kids) but pickles dipped in peanut butter have recently been added to the menu 😭 Doing the gender reveal soon! <3

-Send me asks about sweetheart!Reader & babydaddy!Chris

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist - Masterlist for all works by me

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @emely9274 @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @delusional-4-fake-people @shadowthesim

© All Rights Reserved to m00nl1ghts1vt. Please do not copy my work.

Dividers & Photo edits are mine - feel free to use!

[billy-macher-stu-loomis]

like a deer — yandere! poly! stuilly x male! prescott! reader

length: 1.1k

requested by 🌀!!

the plot of this one one got away from me a little bit whoops

major tws: murder (duh), graphic depictions of violence, major character death (it’s not you or our pretty boys though <3), knifeplay? idk they get real fucking horny with it, dubcon!! serious dubcon with the knife stuff, billy also gets kinda slutty with blood too srry, a kind of graphic description of a roadkill deer, some of that nice 90s internalized homophobia, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, manipulation/coercion? sort of?, these little homosexual freaks are unhinged (you included)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The first to go was Casey Becker.

Your next door neighbor.

They’d found her hanging from a tree in her front yard, gutted like a deer.

You, of course, had been the first person questioned by the police. Shaken and disturbed, you’d quickly found solace in your best friends, Billy and Stu.

~~~

The glass of Stu’s bedroom window was cold against your knuckles as you rapped on it. You only had to wait a moment in the freezing cold before the window slid open, a sleepy Billy rubbing his eyes as he let you inside.

“You forgot to put the spare key back under the doormat, you asshole,” you grumble to Stu as you clamber into his massive rich-boy bed. The taller boy giggles, wrapping his arms around you.

The two of them had always been touchy with you. Always with a hand on your hip or your lower back, an arm slung over your shoulders, interlaced fingers…

(You had your own suspicions that Billy and Stu might be…together, but you’d never say it aloud.)

It was totally normal for guys to share a bed at a sleepover, right? Girls do it all the time.

Totally normal.

~~~

Next to go was your girlfriend, Heather.

You didn’t feel sad. You felt…numb. You felt nothing.

I’m just so sad that I can’t even feel anything, you reasoned with yourself, trying not to think too much about Billy’s hand wandering a little closer to your ass than usual as he wrapped you up in a sympathetic hug. That’s it. Of course. Boys always feel relieved when their girlfriends die. That’s totally normal. Everything’s fine.

~~~

One by one, your friend group was shrinking. People were being killed off left and right. You’d gotten the news about Janis right you and Billy left the movie theater. Sadie had been found in the pool by her big brother while you were busy beating Stu ass at Chutes and Ladders. When Wyatt turned up dead, you’d been taking a joyride with Billy in his dad’s Viper. When Teddy died, you’d been getting ice cream with Stu.

All four were found gutted.

Like deer.

Despite how much they’d been hanging out with you as of late, you’d declined Billy and Stu’s invitation to come hunting with them that weekend.

~~~

“You wanna come over after school? My dad’s outta town, so we can watch whatever the hell we want.”

“Can’t. I’ve got, uh, homework,” you lie, refusing to meet Billy’s eyes as you slammed your locker shut and hurried away.

~~~

“You’ve been avoiding us all week,” Billy accuses, stepping in front of the door to block your exit as you try to leave the cafeteria

“Did we do something wrong?” Stu asks anxiously, fluttering around by Billy’s side.

“No! No. Of course not.”

“Then why are you avoiding us?”

You bite your lip, nervous to tell them the truth.

“I’m afraid you two will be next.”

~~~

Absently, you wonder how Stu’s going to get all of that blood out of his nice beige sweater. You’d bought him that sweater last year for Christmas.

Stu kneels in front of you, resting his bloody hands on your hips as he looks up at you imploringly. “Please forgive us?”

How do you get blood out of clothes? Cold water? Or— is it warm water? Sidney would know. You ought to ask her.

“Baby?” Stu begs, his fingers curling in your shirt as he grips you tightly.

Oh. Right. You can’t ask Sidney.

She’s dead.

Billy is skillfully using his body to block your view of the carnage on the floor, doing his best to keep you from freaking out.

His hands are on you, running through your hair, lightly touching your cheek. He’s sticky, with your sister’s blood, your father’s blood, Stu’s blood, his own blood, and fucking corn syrup.

“Sweetheart?” Stu questions, hooking a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugging on it lightly. “See? We love you.”

You’re horrified. They murdered thirteen people to show their love.

(You would’ve been fine with just a box of chocolates and some flowers, but y’know. Billy refuses to half-ass things.)

“Do you need us to prove it to you?”

Stu’s got a crazed look in his eye that makes you shrink back. But Billy’s grip on you is tight enough that you can barely move at all, forced to watch as Stu yanks off his ruined sweater, unabashedly moaning like a slut when the fabric catches on his fresh stab wounds, ripping back open the flesh that was so desperately trying to knit itself back together.

Billy hands Stu his buck knife, watching with rapt attention as the man holds it over his chest. Stu doesn’t even flinch, watching in a trance as the tip of the blade sinks into his flesh, droplets of red already welling to the surface. He drags the blade along his skin, carving your initials into his chest, right above his heart.

When he’s finished, he hands the knife back to Billy, who reverently takes it, studying the fresh red sheen on the metal before pressing his tongue flat against the side of the blade and licking off Stu’s blood.

You look away, disgusted and somehow turned on at the same time.

(You can’t help but sneak a look when the two boys share a messy, blood- and spit-soaked kiss. Fuck.)

Billy yanks off his corn syrup-stained white shirt, tossing it carelessly on the floor, where it hits your dead father in the face. He steadies the knife, holding it over his chest and doing the same thing as Stu just did.

You choke out a sob, unable to rectify this image of your boys as psychotic murderers with the image of them just last night, cuddling up with you in bed and leeching off of your warmth and rambling about horror movies.

“Sweetheart?” Billy murmurs, cupping your face in his hand. “Look. Look, see? We love you. We love you.”

They love you. They love you.

You keep mentally repeating that mantra to yourself. Even as you are forced to scrunch your eyes through the pain of the knife carving two sets of initials into your chest. Even as you look at the bodies of your sister and father one last time. Even as Billy scoops you up to carry you to Stu’s van in a way that’s supposed to be playful but just comes across as a final doomed death sentence, the clang! of a prison door slamming shut. You repeat your mantra even as you pass by the bodies of Randy and Dewey; even the mutilated body of that obnoxious bitch from Top Story makes you have to look away.

They love you. They love you.

Stu drives, on the lamb. Billy lays in the back with you, curled up with you on the bed in Stu’s stupid “shaggin’ wagon”.

Your eyes are glued to the smiley-face shaped air freshener dangling from Stu’s rear view mirror. You can’t look at Billy right now.

They love you. They love you.

You can almost trick yourself into believing it, at least for a little while.

But the sight of the dead deer on the side of the road, visible through the front windshield, its chest smashed and broken like a piñata, sends you spiraling.

When you look back at the stupid air freshener hanging from the mirror, its bright yellow face smiling at you only feels mocking and cruel. All you can see is Casey’s body hanging from that damned tree.

They love you. They love you.

[lanaroff]

Unwanted- Part 4

Paring: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Y/N is an enhanced SHIELD agent who is forced to work with the Avengers. What happens when they discover that she’s not alone?

A/N: Two in a row! Enjoy.- Lana

After a long conversation with Natasha, you came to terms with the fact that sooner or later you would end up having to talk to the team. You didn't trust them, and they didn't trust you either. And as long as you wanted to bring Hydra down, you needed to play by the rules. Even If it meant telling the team personal information about yourself.

However that was not the only thing in your mind. Another redhead was keeping your mind busy. You hadn't seen Wanda since you left her in the medical area. You had no idea of her status or if she even wanted to see you. But you decided that you should find it out for yourself.

And so you did. While waking the compound halls you thought of the reason behind your actions. Why did you suddenly cared for someone's health? If it came to Natasha, would you check on her? But before you could turn back you were standing next to Wanda's bedroom door. You knocked tree times, cursing yourself for doing so, but waiting for Wanda to open the door.

"Come in" You heard from inside the room, and immediately pushed the door and walked inside.

"Uhm... I wanted to check on you. How is your leg?" You nervously said. Truth was that you had spend so much time hating any kind of human interaction, that you had become unable to talk about anything that did not included killing someone.

"Y/N! Hi." Wanda quickly replied as she sat properly on her bed. "The leg is fine, thanks for asking. It doesn't hurt that much."

"Great... That's good, I guess." You said. It was clear to Wanda that the girl in front of her was struggling to keep te conversation floating. It was hilarious and a little bit adorable, she thought to herself.

To Wanda, all that you were doing was trying to pretend that you were tough by being cold and distant. When in reality you were another lost soul who had no one and was scared to be vulnerable. And Wanda felt a sense of familiarity in your behavior.

"I should probably get going, it's late and you need to rest. Good night Wanda." You continued.

"Yeah... Good night Y/N." The redhead replied and watched as you abandoned the room.

After leaving the girl's room, you walked through the compound's floors. You had no destination, but you enjoyed the walk anyways. The compound was empty, the avengers either were sleeping or in their own rooms. No one was there to ask questions or to annoy you in any way. Being all day inside your room was not healthy, and you definitely needed a change of scenery.

It wasn't until you found yourself in the kitchen, that you realized that you hadn't eaten in all day. And the alien was well aware of that, so you opened the fridge looking for something to cook. While taking some vegetables to put them in the countertop, you heard a deep voice. Immediately your body was submerged under the creatures skin.

"Easy Y/N. I'm not a threat." You heard a male voice. Steve came out of the shadows and showed himself to you. After calming yourself and taking a deep breath, you returned to your normal self. You were definitely not usted to living with others.

"I could've killed you, old man." You said as you took a knife to star chopping the items you had placed earlier.

"Can't sleep?" Steve asked, before taking a sit next to the countertop.

"Never can. And you? What is keeping American's hero awake?"

Steve took a deep breath before talking. His mind was thinking about many things, and he couldn't shake it off. "You know, the usual, missions and training."

"Speaking of, uhm we have an upcoming mission in a couple of days." Steve continued.

You looked at him and nodded. You hated small talks, that's why you always tried to avoid talking to anyone, unless is was extremely necessary. "Great"

"You know, you should talk to Tony. He may be a little bit arrogant, but he can be a great friend."

"And why would I do that Rogers?" You replied.

"Because If you don't then I can't send you on missions. You need to learn how to work as a team. I'm not asking you to be friends with them, just talk to Tony and the team." Steve finished. And before you could say anything he was already excusing himself.

As the captain of the team, Steve thought that you needed to let people in. Otherwise all the 'not trusting one another' would end up having someone killed by a simple mistake. And tho your intentions were good, your methods were no the most suitable.

When you finished eating the meal that you had prepared for yourself, you went upstairs to rest. However, your mind was running a million miles away, and you could stop thinking about your conversation with Steve. After hours of walking from the bed to your desk, you came to the conclusion that you didn't had to be open about your feelings or any shit like that, you just need to be "friendly". And god, you already hated yourself for having to do such thing.

You woke up and, unlike the other mornings, you actually went to have breakfast with the team. Once you put foot on the kitchen all the eyes were turned to you.

"Good morning, nice for you to join us" Steve greet you with a pat on your shoulder.

"Yeah..." You said, unsure that you had made the right decision. After your small interaction with Steve, you walked to the countertop, took a plate and put some waffles on it. After that, you sat next to Natasha. At least having her closed brought you a little bit of comfort.

While you were finishing breakfast as quick as you could, you heard Wanda enter the room greeting everyone. However, she wasn't entering alone, and a kid that didn't looked older than 16, was walking side by side with her.

Wanda went into the kitchen a pour herself a cup of tea before she sat herself across from you and Natasha. Wanda found shocking the fact that you were actually having breakfast on the common area. However, your moment of peace and quiet was interrupted by a really chatty kid that was more than eager to talk to you. But before anyone could stop him, he was already with his mouth open.

"Are you the new member? The one that has an alien inside of her?" He asked. Tony and Steve looked at each other fearing for the kid's life. Everyone looked at you waiting for you to say something.

The kid's question took you by surprise. You were not expecting someone as eager to talk as him to interact with you. Less to be asked about the creature that lived inside of your body. However, before you could reply you felt Venom's willingness to make itself present.

"We are Venom" Said the creature as it slowly started to appeared behind you.

"Cool..." Was everything that came from the kid's mouth. You could actually see that he was curious about his encounter with the alien. "My name is Peter Parker, but everyone calls me Spider-Man"

"No. Nobody calls you that" Sam said entering the room. Leaving a very frustrated Peter

Wanda's eyes were worryingly looking at you, she didn't feared that you would hurt him, but she didn't want you to feel overwhelmed by Peter's questions. However before you could respond you were cut by Steve.

"Wanda... How are you feeling? How's the leg?" He asked. And immediately your eyes were glued on her face, actually wanting to know how she was doing.

"Fine, it hurts a little bit. But Bruce told me that I can walk. So that's better." She replied, and noticed how a small smile of relief escaped your lips.

The room fell into small conversations between the different Avengers, each of them talking about different topics with one another. And before they even noticed, you were already walking to the kitchen, placing you plate into the sink, and reaching the hallway.

However, before you could leave the room, you were stoped by someone calling for you.

"Y/N wait up!"

Hearing Steve's voice, you turned around to find the blond man reaching the kitchen door. You raised your eyebrows indicating him ti star talking.

"Hill mentioned that you have intel about Hydra ex members and their possibles locations." Said the captain. Upon hearing 

Steve's tone you knew exactly where the conversation was going.

"What about that?" You asked frowning your eyes.

"Why don't you bring them here so we can have a look at those files?" He finally asked. Even though you maintained your best poker face, your eyes betrayed you. To Steve it was cleared that you were having an internal fight. You could work with them using the only peace of information that you had, but you didn't trust them, at least not yet. "As a team."

Your eyes darted from Steve to Wanda, who was still sitting on the kitchen table. Her giggle echoing the thin walls as she laughed about Peter being teased by Bucky and Sam. Maybe Natasha was right and you had to trust them, maybe trusting them meant that you could bring Hydra down quickly. Maybe, just maybe, they were not that bad as you thought. Maybe there it was your second chance.

"They are at my apartment, I guess I can bring them to the compound" You replied reviving a smile from Steve. 

"Thank you" Said the blond. Replaying with a nod you begin to walk back to your room. However you were stopped by the captain's voice again. "Oh before you go, could you give Peter a lift, he's late for school"

"Absolutely not" You said without looking back.

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

Guns N’ Roses Fic: Joyride

Summary: You and Axl take a long car ride together, along the winding country roads, hoping it'll cool down his grouchy mood. When that doesn't work, you decide to cuddle with him. This exacerbates the whole situation, causing Axl to take his frustrations out on you, to the point where you use your safe word. Requested by anon.

Characters: Axl Rose and (female) reader.

Pairing(s): Axl Rose/female reader, Axl Rose/ reader.

Rating: Explicit, 21+

Word Count: 3,186

Warnings: Cussing, physical altercation, childhood trauma, fingering, anal penetration, humiliation, degradation, oral sex, water sports, and cutting.

A/N: This is considered dark fiction. Please, DO NOT read if a physically rough Axl isn't your cup of tea. If it is, I hope you enjoy!

It was a cold October day. The wind rustled through the trees, forcing red, orange, and yellow leaves to fall on the ground like snow.

You sat in the passengers seat of Axl’s car, watching the scenery unfold in front of your peripheral vision. Then your eyes wandered over to Axl where he kept his focus on the road, not daring to look at you, while gripping the steering wheel tightly and clenching his jaw. He was vexed. You did notice a slight shift of tension fuming in the air this morning, but weren’t able to pinpoint what caused his irritation.

Unlike Axl’s usual days, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed, in a fowl mood, not bothering to say “good morning,” or greet you with a sweet, tender kiss. During breakfast, he ignored your presence by pretending to be lost in thought as he idly picked at his scrambled eggs with a fork like a picky child. When you asked what was bothering him he let the silence fill your ears of his vacant troubles. It stumped you. He was never this quiet. He always ranted and cursed on and on about what made him furious. Was he angry at one of his bandmates? Did you do something wrong? Did he have a bad dream? Were you the one who induced a nightmare on his behalf? So many questions swarmed your head, yet, none of them were answered.

You didn’t notice any behavioral changes last night. He came home from the studio, ate dinner with you, chatted, shared a bottle of wine, and went to bed. Maybe he drank too much and was experiencing a mild hangover? Or maybe he stored away his problems to be dealt with the next day? You couldn’t be for certain.

“Babe,” your voice cut through the quietness like a knife. “Talk to me.”

A few seconds passed before Axl muttered a reply. “‘Bout what?”

You shrugged. “About you. What’s got you so upset?”

You could see the gears turning in his head as he thought of a response, or perhaps a lie. “Nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s none of your damn business anyway,” he grumbled.

“I want to make it my business.” You insisted playfully, showing your pearly white teeth in hopes it would lighten his mood.

Unfortunately, Axl never broke eye contact from the road. He exhaled a huff through his nostrils and repositioned his hands on the wheel.

“You’re not mad at me, are you…?” It felt like you were treading on thin ice. You didn’t want to annoy Axl by bombarding him with questions, but you also wanted to know who, or what, pissed him off, and help him cope. It tore you apart whenever you saw him fighting his own demons alone. You wanted to remind him that he didn’t have to battle any of his hardships by himself. You were there by his side and were willing to help, no matter the circumstances. Even if it meant getting scorched by the flames.

“Just drop it,” he cautioned.

You were beginning to feel the ice crack below your feet. One more word and you could plunge into the deep, cold, dark abyss. Leaning back in the seat, you watched the green hills and cattle roll past. If he was shut off from words, maybe physical affection might help warm his heart, you thought.

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his body stiffen at the contact. “Shh, shh.” Your delicate, slim fingers traced over his Celtic cross tattoo, rubbing small circles on the skull version of himself. You loved cuddling him and feeling the heat radiate off his body into yours. It felt comforting.

Axl grunted and shoved you away from his shoulder with such force that your head thumped into the window. “Ow! What the fuck?!” You yelled, covering your head where it throbbed.

“Don’t fuckin’ try me!” He warned.

You were shocked your head didn’t break through the glass, or at least crack the pane. You stared at him and saw no lines of remorse etched into his features. If he wanted to be rough and take it out on you, fine. But you weren’t gonna allow his temper to bring you down to his level. Two opposite attractions could play at this game. Your only hope was to win over his gentle side.

Unbuckling your seat belt, you launched yourself at Axl by wrapping your arms around the side of his neck, and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Within an instant, you felt his jaw unclench, causing your lips to sink further into his smooth skin. Your eyes widened in surprise and were convinced you solved his problems. All he needed was a simple kiss to make his issues disappear!

However, within another beat of a second, Axl slammed on the breaks, swerving across the road, as the car shrieked to a halt. You clung onto him for dear life as you tried not to get catapulted out the windshield. Once he put the car in park, he peeled your arms away, grabbed you by the shoulders, and threw you over the backseat of the car. Landing on your back, the air was knocked from your lungs, and the next thing you saw was Axl climbing over the seats, pinning you down with his body.

“Wanna fuck with me, huh? You stupid bitch!” He taunted, slapping you across the face. “Fine. Then get fucked by me.” Forcing your body over, he hoisted your ass in the air, stripping your waist of your skirt and panties. You could feel his hardened erection, through the seam of his jeans, press into your butt.

Knowing he would ram into you without providing any saliva as lube, you tried scurrying away. But Axl used his hands to hold your hips in place. You weren’t prepared to experience this type of punishment. “Axl, wait-“

“Shut the fuck up.” He undid his leather belt, unzipped his pants, and freed his cock. Axl hovered over your backside, using both his thumb and index finger to pinch your clit. You jolted at the intense sensation.

“This is what you get for not listening to me,” he growled into your ear.

“I-I’m sorry-“

“Yeah? You should be.” Letting go of your clit and repositioning his hips against your ass, he sheathed his cock into your cunt, making you wince at the rawness. Axl held your upper body down, pushing your face into the leather seat, as he sucked on his middle finger to slide it up your ass.

You scrunched your face together and whined against the seat, muffling your cries. You hated anal penetration.

When you were a child, your parents gave you enemas to soften your stool, but that backfired, and resulted in you screaming at the top of your lungs while thrashing on the floor until it was over. From that day forward you always questioned how others found anal sex pleasurable. It made you cringe every time one of your friends talked about their own experiences.

But here you were, as an adult, laying face down, but instead of an enema, it was Axl’s finger. Luckily, his finger was slim so it didn’t hurt as much. However, if it was his cock, then it’d be crossing the line.

Axl slowly pumped his finger in and out of your hole, feeling the way your pussy clenched around his cock like a glove every time his finger slipped in and out. He managed to fill you up on both sides and remind you who was in charge.

Axl noted how quiet you became, minus the subtle whimpering, and tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “You gonna be a good girl?”

You nodded, not wanting your ass to feel invaded like this ever again.

“Are you lying?”

You immediately shook your head. “N-no!”

“You sure?” He licked his lips and pulled both his finger and cock out, making you feel empty.

“If you’re lying, babygirl…” Axl teased the tip of his cock near the rim of your butthole, pushing it in a little.

“No, stop!” Before he could continue and slide his dick in, you remembered your safe word - the one you used for bedroom activities. “Nightrain! Nightrain! Nightrain!”

Axl stopped, furrowing his eyebrows together. “What?”

“Nightrain. Please, Axl…don’t do this.” You were worried the safe word wouldn’t apply to punishments like this, but he was also overstepping your boundary, and you needed him to stop before it escalated any further. “I’ll be a good girl for you, okay? I promise.” You begged your heart out, hoping he could be convinced. “I’ll drop it and pretend nothing happened.”

Upon hearing those words, he leaned his face closer to yours while his warm breath tickled your ear, making you quiver. “Damn right nothing happened. If you don’t want my dick up your ass then do me a favor.”

You sniffled. “Anything.”

“Take off the rest of your clothes.”

You hesitated at the request but complied. You took off your blouse and unclasped your bra.

A small smirk formed across Axl’s lips. “Good girl. Now, step outside.”

Your heart began beating rapidly in your chest. You peered through the window and found no other cars occupying the road. You exhaled a sigh of relief and stepped out onto the asphalt, covering both breasts with your hands. The outside bore a sharp breeze, making your entire body shiver, and form goosebumps. If any passerby’s saw you, you were sure it would make your temperature rise.

Axl got out of the car, opened the trunk, and motioned you to come closer. You gulped and did so at your own pace, dragging our feet to postpone the forbidding dread that sank into your stomach.

“Get in,” he ordered.

“…Axl-“

He snapped his fingers. “Get in. Or do you want my cock up your ass?”

“Neither!”

He stepped forward, his face a few inches from yours. “You don’t have much of a choice. If I were you, I’d do it this way,” he advised.

You pouted. This wasn’t fair, it was embarrassing. Why couldn’t he just bend you over his knee, tan your ass with a spanking, and drive home like all his other punishments? Why was he trying something new? The bastard…

“How come?”

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s part of your punishment, baby.” He sensed your unease which made him feel a little guilty. He never meant to take things too far, but whenever he did, it seemed impossible to retrace his steps and start over from square one again. “Look, I know you’re scared, but don’t be. I ain’t gonna hurt you, or crash the car, or plunge it into a river.”

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips. That made you feel a tiny bit better but you still held your doubts. You lied down in the trunk, curling into a ball to stave off the coldness.

Axl went into the car, retrieved his leather jacket from the front seat, and came back to drape it over your nude figure. “Better?”

“Yeah…”

“Count some sheep, honey. You’ll be out of there before you know it.” He closed the trunk and drove off.

You huddled yourself underneath his jacket while imagining a cloud of sheep jumping over your head. “One…two…three…” Not only did it help keep your mind occupied, but it also made you feel less claustrophobic.

The rattling of the car acted as white noise. Your body gently swayed left and right whenever Axl took a turn. He was careful not to turn the car too sharply because he knew your body could accidentally get bruised. He figured he crossed a line with you and regretted it. It was difficult to control his actions whenever his anger overpowered him. It’s like his body was on autopilot and he’s forced to watch, through a red lens, all the horrific things he’s doing to you until his rage dissipated. He wanted to make it up to you, and he knew the perfect way to do it while keeping you fooled that it was still a punishment.

Once you counted 200 sheep you felt the car come to a halt, hearing the front door open. Rock music was playing in the background while you heard distant chatter. Were you at a dive bar? In a parking lot somewhere? You couldn’t tell. Suddenly, you felt Axl - or at least you hoped it was him - get back in the car, shut the door, and drive away from whatever place you two stopped at. Another question rang through your mind…and it wouldn’t stop nagging at your conscious. What did Axl buy?

Minutes later, Axl opened up the trunk, revealing your figure before his lust-hungry eyes. You squinted, allowing your eyes to adjust to the natural glow of the sunset while noticing you weren’t at the house, parked in the driveway. Instead…you were at a vacant park. No parents or their children were around the playground area. It was empty. It almost looked abandoned. From a faint distance, you could see rust on the metal monkey bars. The place was definitely worn down by weather and everybody who touched it.

You looked at Axl as he sat down next to you, pulling away his leather jacket from your body. “It’s cold-“

“I know it’s cold, baby. Your punishment is almost over,” he reassured.

Rubbing you hands over your arms to create friction, you asked, “What else do I have to do?”

“Nothing. Just lay there and close your eyes.”

This made you suspicious. “You’re not gonna do anything, are you…?”

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he repeated. “I think you might enjoy it. Lay back and close your eyes for me.”

Since when were punishments supposed to be enjoyable? You decided not to waste anymore time, mostly because it was cold and you didn’t want to get frostbites, you laid down and closed your eyes.

“Good girl,” he praised.

You heard the rustling of plastic. Axl was taking something out of a plastic bag. Wherever he stopped the car at, he bought something to use on you, or against you. You hoped the latter wasn’t the case. Was it a vibrator? A whip? A paddle? A gag? You weren’t sure. But you were gonna find out.

Suddenly, without warning, you felt a cold trickle of liquid cascade across your chest, flowing over your breasts, and down your pubic bone. “What the-“ You opened your eyes and saw Axl pouring a bottle of champagne over you. “Axe! What are you doing?!”

“Keep your eyes closed!”

“I’m freezing!” You protested, closing your eyes again. This certainly wasn’t the type of punishment you had in mind.

“Aww, is the little girl cold?” Axl sneered, setting the bottle of champagne down on the grass. “Here. Let daddy help warm you up.”

You felt Axl hover above you, the same way he did in the car earlier, and latched his lips onto the mound of your breast, licking away the champagne. Upon feeling his heated breath on you, your eyes widened, causing your lips to release a surprised gasp.

He pulled away and placed his mouth on your other breast, cleaning away the alcoholic nectar. “Mmm~”

“Augh, Axe…” You moaned.

After releasing your other boob, he used his tongue to lick a trail down your body, tasting the sweet, bubbly champagne on your skin. He kept traveling down until he reached your pubic mound. Reaching for the champagne again, he tilted the bottle downward, allowing the liquid to hit your clit, similar to how a showerhead would.

Your breathing increased as you bucked your hips against the champagne stream, stimulating your clit. Axl noticed your eagerness and tilted the bottle upward, taking a quick swig for himself, before throwing the bottle on the grassy knoll. “This pussy’s gonna taste fantastic.”

“Mmff…it’s all yours, cowboy.”

“Damn right it’s all mine.” Setting your legs onto his shoulders, Axl inched closer to your cunt until you felt his hot breath waft over your swollen clit. He dove in, licking up and down your slit at a gradual pace, causing your eyes to roll back into your head.

“Fuuuuck…”

The sweetness of the champagne combined with your own slick juices created a perfect flavor that Axl couldn’t deny. He could drink it forever and get wasted on it. He suctioned his lips around your clit, sucking on the perked bud, making you squirm and squeal beneath him as his eyes bore into your twisted facial features.

Axl flicked his tongue over your clit, adding pressure on the sensitive gem to heighten your buildup while swirling his tongue clockwise, then counter clockwise, around it.

"Oh my god!" You shrieked, bucking your hips against his mouth which caused his nose to make contact with your clit. "I'm close, so close...."

Axl used his final seconds to remove his mouth from your clit and replace it with his thumb, stroking the nub effortlessly until you came undone.

You arched your back, screaming his name, and scraping your nails on the bed of the trunk while your toes curled from the orgasmic bliss.

Axl repositioned himself again to collect the stream of hot nectar that flowed from your cunt onto his sharp tongue, gulping away your cream.

Your body fell limp. A dark shade of crimson colored the palette of your flushed cheeks. You haven't came that hard in a long time. You sort of forgot it was even possible to experience such an orgasm...until Axl reminded you tonight.

Looking up at the sky, you saw stars, not from being dazed, but from space, as the small specks of white light shined down on the two of you. You were so entranced by the beauty of it, you forgot Axl was even sucking away your cum like a leech. You didn't feel him remove himself or anything. But you did hear a bottle break in the distance, and then you felt a glass shard cut into your inner thigh, breaking your focus from the night sky. "Ah! Fuck!"

After Axl saw the blood oozing out of the mark, he cleaned your fresh wound with his tongue, causing you to flinch at the sudden pain.

"What the hell was that for?!"

He grinned. "It's a reminder for you not to misbehave again."

You were baffled by his words. "Trust me. I won't misbehave ever again."

"In case you do, look into the mirror and remember this cut. Though, if it does slip your mind, I won't show you any mercy next time, capisce?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, daddy. But I'm confused. Was this my punishment...?"

Axl sighed, cupping the side of your face with the palm of his hand, and stroking your cheek, the same cheek he had slapped. "It was a reward for surviving your punishment in my trunk."

It dawned on you. Your punishment was either the trunk or having him ram his dick inside your ass unforgivingly. He allowed you to have a choice - unlike the previous punishments - and it appeared you made the right decision with this one. "Oh, charming."

He smiled and kissed your bruised cheek. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “C’mon. Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.” He carried you, bridal-style, to the passengers side and drove off into the night.

The safe word saved you. Hopefully it could save you again on another night?

Taglist:

Side-note: if anybody wants to be added on my taglist for certain eras/characters, let me know!

[cordyce]

BY YOUR HANDS ALONE

neteyam sully x gn!reader

notes: this is silly & overtly fluffy & all over the place if i am completely honest rn. neteyam is a little flustered & probably ooc. sorry :’)

"there you are."

"here i am," you mirror back instantly, hardly sparing a glance up at the far too familiar voice as your fingers continue to work at chopping up some vegetables. it's a busy day—a momentous day. there is no time to waste.

"let me help," neteyam offers, already making moves to steal your knife from you as he steps to your side.

but you weave it away from his grasp, nudge him back with your shoulder and point the knife at him as you address him. "aht, don't think so," you differ, then continue your slicing. "besides, don't you have your own tasks to get to, mr. mighty warrior?"

days like this require a lot of preparation; everyone chipping in and doing their part so that it all gets done and runs smoothly. if even one person slacks off, it could cause a rift in sanctified plans. and that simply wouldn’t do. no, it would not.

"i have completed all of them, actually," he retorts, but he shrivels when you narrow your eyes up at him. "okay, almost all of them."

you scoff, let your pupils meet your sockets with a roll as you pry the truth out of him. of course, one of the most important days of the year and it is now that neteyam chooses to have an irresponsible whim. you aren’t sure what you’re gonna do with him.

"your mother will have your tail if she finds one thing out of place for tonight, you know this." it isn't necessarily a warning, but there is some tip-off in your tone. "you must get everything done."

neteyam hums, leans his hip against the raised wood that you are using as a makeshift counter. he says nothing, simply watches you. takes into account how you dice up the vegetables in front of you diligently before sliding them to the side with your knife and moving onto the next ones. his stare is driving you crazy—no one works well under pressure, after all.

it causes you to have a slight blunder; a misstep. you cut a pattern a tad too fast and send a slice of root tumbling towards the ground. neteyam's instincts are superb, quick, and he catches it before it hits the dirt. mumbling a thank you under your breath as he places it back on the tray, you find the heir before you still not making a move to speak.

you aren't sure why it unnerves you so.

"what do you have left to complete?" it's not the question you want to ask, but 'what the hell do you keep staring at?' doesn't sound quite as nice. so you settle on it.

you take a pause, a breath, to turn to him. throughout the years you have seen the eldest sully child wear many expressions. ones tainted by smiles, irritation, pride, devotion—but this one has you tipping your head in the most peculiar way.

because timidness is not something you think you've ever seen don the strong features of neteyam sully.

he carries himself with such an air of confidence; shoulders pressed back and chin held high—not arrogant, but undaunted. he does not shift gaze unless he is avoiding scoldings and he does not suck in his cheek unless he is fighting frustration. so, you wonder, what could possibly have his face contorted in such a reticent manner. if you did not know any better, you’d almost call his demeanor a rendition of shy. but that seems rather uncharacteristic of him, doesn’t it?

"ah—are you sure you don't need help with that?" he's deflecting, brushing off your inquiry like he hasn't heard it. and you can't decide whether you find that amusing or concerning.

he's making way for your knife again and you twist your arm to hold it out of his reach behind you. you eye him carefully, flit your gaze all around him to pick up on anything that you can that would explain his behavior.

"tell me." it's not an order, you aren't demanding, but neteyam nods his head like he's respondent of such.

"my father told me i needed a, uhm," he stutters, licks his lips, like he's tripping over his own tongue. and it's undeniable the way you see his ears twitch. "for the celebration tonight. i need a.."

"a what, neteyam?" you press, cock your brow up at him. you don't think you've ever seen him like this. never witnessed him so.. "you need a what?"

"a.. date."

so fidgety.

"a date?" you repeat with widening eyes.

"no, no not a—not a date really but i need someone for the—“

"the staining ceremony.” you finish for him, continue his sentence because with all his blubbering you aren’t sure he’ll ever spit it out.

he nods curtly.

the celebration tonight is for all the young warriors who have proved themselves throughout the calendar year as being strong willed and great protectors of the clan. neteyam, of course, is one of them. has been since he earned the right to be titled as such. so perhaps it should have clicked in your head that he’d be searching for a partner for the staining ceremony portion of the night.

but a part of you—if you’re being completely honest with yourself—just figured he had one already. events like this take weeks of planning; most warriors find their artisan a fortnight in advance. because it cannot just be anyone.

the partner one chooses for the staining ceremony must be someone with whom they feel a connection. some of the older warriors choose their mates. some of the youngest choose their mother or father. some settle for siblings. others, in brazen acts of outstretched hands, choose a mate unbonded; one who they harbor feelings for but have yet to seal such in the eyes of Eywa.

you cannot lie and say you had not pondered over who neteyam’s choice would be. a part of you thought he would pick kiri—they have always been so close and she has been his partner for such ceremony before. but, you are not deaf to the murmurs of your village, you are not ignorant of what has been passed from mouth to ear of all that will listen. there have been other… prospects who have been suggested to neteyam for this special commemoration.

your name has not been among them.

“well,” you continue, tear your eyes away from him and get back to the task at hand. there is no need to dwell on such things and fall behind. you have just one more batch of greens after this to prepare then you will be done and can walk away from all this. “if you’re here to ask my opinion on who your choice should be, i’m not sure i will prove to be much help.”

a shut down; a cut off. you’d like this conversation to be over as soon as possible because it’s making your fingers itch. you’re offering him a gateway to close the topic off.

but he doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“no,” he chuckles, now, and you can tell he’s shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. it’s breathy; like he’s punched it out of his chest and finally broken past the barrier of whatever flusteredness had him trapped before. “that’s not why i came to find you.”

“if it’s to convince kiri to sacrifice herself to do it for you again this year, i’m not game for that either.” you don’t understand why his laughter leaves you agitated, why this whole situation has caused an odd twisting in your gut.

“that won’t be necessary,” he disputes, “i do not need kiri to be my partner this year.”

your fingers fumble, your slicing stutters. “oh?” and you want to kick yourself for how your voice hitches. you clear your throat, bite the corner of your lip that neteyam can’t see. “convince some other poor soul to do it for you? is it zuy’nik? i know she presented you a kill from her hunt recently.”

neteyam hums. “no. i have not chosen zuy’nik.”

you grip your knife harder, focus carefully on the blade as you chop down on a bundle of leaves. your throat is dry, your heart is thundering. you feel silly.

“sënuul, then?” you question, do your best to sound as disinterested as possible even though your chest is burning to know who could be lucky enough to have been picked by the heir himself. “i hear many young warriors wish for her. they say she has delicate hands.”

your hands—in contrast—have grown tense; your chops near erratic. being this worked up over a man who is not your mate seems so futile, so nonsensical. if your mother were here to see you now she’d call you childish.

but is it so childish to want things your heart yearns for?

“while that may be true,” neteyam agrees with the sentiment, and that makes your stomach lurch, “it is not sënuul either.”

“then who is it? who could you possibly—“

a hand covering yours has you cutting yourself off. neteyam’s palm melds over your knuckles; stops your unsafe cutting and stills your wrist’s movements. before you can even bring yourself to look at him, calloused fingers are hooking around your chin. swiveling your head around, you have no choice but to meet his gaze. and it is not averting, not twinkling with tepidness like it was before. you think, for a moment, that’s because he’s passed the feeling onto you.

“i do not wish for any other partner in this clan.” and his voice does not waver, does not stumble, now. you swallow as you listen. “i came here to ask if you would do me the honors, for tonight.”

your tongue feels like cotton; the fuzz of it floating to your brain to make everything go static. this is.. not what you had expected.

you had expected to follow neytiri’s orders for preparing the food for the meals that would be shared. you had expected to dress yourself in the ceremonial clothing and jewelry you keep for these special occasions. you had expected to stand around the edges of the circle during the opening dance, serve food to the elders, and sit with a content tight smile as you watched kiri declare neteyam’s war paint for the third year in a row before the true celebration began.

you had not expected yourself to be standing face to face with neteyam, ears twitching embarrassingly sporadic, as he asks you to join him in one of the most intimate and important events of a warrior’s life.

and you suppose you can use that element of surprise as the reason why you find yourself a tad bit speechless while you nod dumbly. a wide grin cracks across his face, curves up his cheeks as he lets out another breathy laugh.

“thank you,” he murmurs, and he still hasn’t let go of your chin. “i was worried i would not get the chance to ask you in time. i was pushing it, but i tried to get all my other duties done as fast as i could.”

now that, the mention of time, finally knocks you out of your little lovesick trance.

“hey, wait,” you huff, shove at his chest lightly with your free hand. “you should have asked me sooner! i should have already had your stain pattern planned out, and—and now i have to go get all of your paints and i didn’t factor in the time for that. you’re terrible!”

“ah, i’m not terrible. i am sure you can just wing it,” he waves off, simpers like this is funny.

“wing it?” you gape at him. because he genuinely cannot be serious. “this will be your war paint pattern for the rest of the year. if it’s bad then you will be stuck with it. you want me just to wing that?!”

“why not? i have faith in you, i’ve put myself into your hands.” and it’s meant to playful, you know this, but the way he’s looking at you proves his words hold their full weight regardless. “don’t be mad at me.”

“oh, i’m mad,” you retort, brush him away as you get back to slicing because now you really do not have the time for distractions. “i cannot believe you have waited until last minute.”

“would you like me to ask someone else?” he queries, and you whip your head over to level him with a glare. “i mean, i am sure sënuul would be honored to be the partner of the future olo’eyktan.”

“you know, i liked you better when you were sputtering and nervous,” you spit back, retract your attention once again. “terrible. truly terrible.”

“ah, do not be mad at me,” he levels again, “what can i do to have you forgive me?”

“nothing. you will never be forgiven.” with no hesitation, but also no malice. your bite holds no venom, and your cheeks are still warm. such hypocrisy you spew.

“nothing?” he questions, and you don’t even have to see his face to know he is smiling. there he is again; the neteyam who holds his chin up high and taunts his brother into mindless games to prove his worth. you admire this neteyam; love this neteyam.

this neteyam grabs your face and tugs you forward before you can think of another mindless rebuttal to spout.

the kiss is light but fervent, and if you were a poetic person you might just say that his lips taste like future promises you already intend to keep. the fight drains from your body and you find no urge to bring it back. this neteyam seems to know how to quell you, how to dispel your frustration and wipe away your grievances like fogged up glass. so easy, so effortlessly.

he pulls away languidly, breath puffing against your lips. "forgive me?" he asks again, and you find yourself nodding before he even finishes the question.

he turns your head to peck your cheek then drops his hands to finally successfully steal the knife still held in yours. you tip your head, blinking through the daze to inquire what he's doing.

"i can finish that, you know."

"i know," he answers, then flashes you a crooked grin that has your stomach twisting in a way far different than before. "but don't you think you should start planning how you want to trail your hands over me?"

and, oh. part of you wants to hit him for that. but part of you wants to tug him in by the neckpiece he dons and get him to shut up by an alternative method.

as you reach forward to run your hand ever so heedlessly up his chest, a faux illusion of planning your mapping, you think you might just settle on the latter.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.2

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - Following the shock of a lifetime while out scouting the borderlands, Shanda deals with the fallout of her actions and makes plans to repeat the same mistakes.

Warnings - fem!reader, strained family dynamics, adult language, obsessive behavior, reckless behavior, braindead behavior, not cannon compliant, kieran burton fancast,

Word count 2.1k

2/6 currently

!Minors DNI!

Ahaha, this is going to be a pretty slow burn type of deal I think. But I am unhinged and cranked out another one before work 😤👍🏻🗣️ Next chapter will be more exciting, I promise. Also everyone involved in any romance is of age of course bc I don’t care about canon and no child marriages here.

Shanda didn’t stop running until she was back home in her own chambers. Shutting her door quietly, she stripped her soaked clothes off. The cloak would have to be mended and she would have to convince Royce, her younger brother, to take her out riding to cover for the rip. That would cost her but it was better than the alternative. Shivering, she quickly dressed for sleep before adding more logs to the dying fire in her harth, then seated herself in front of the flames. Only then did she allow her mind to wander back to the horrible encounter she’d just experienced. Why was the Blackwood heir on guard duty in the borderlands? It didn’t make any sense even if he had spoken the truth earlier. She moved like a shadow but no woman can be invisible. To send Benjicot to deal with a once off rogue spy was a move that was so strange it made her head spin.

Tomorrow she would talk to Martyn first, tell him mostly the truth of what happened and then convince him to let her out again. She had a good start on information for swaying her father but it wasn’t enough. If she went with tales of the heir and half heard secrets, he’d lose his mind at her irresponsibility. But if she found out what the heir was up to and confirmed what real problem the Blackwoods were having, well then he might see reason. He might for once appreciate having a slippery sneaking daughter who doesn’t know how to mind her own business.

Shanda awoke with a start, nearly toppling herself from the chair she’d fallen asleep in. No light shone in from the windows, her room was damp and muggy. Her night clothes stuck to her in an uncomfortable manner, sweat beaded on her brow as she rose to wash and dress for the day. The riverlands were often damp, hot and moist, the air thick with water. Gazing out the window she saw the torches lit and in the distance gathering clouds like a bruise against the gray sky.

Leaving her room, Shanda slowly made her way downstairs. She stopped along the way to make a comment to anyone passing by, making a point to be seen by many and accounted for undoubtedly. Then without pausing in the main hall, headed straight out into the yard to find Martyn. The guard shift was up at first light and though there was no light outside, she guessed it had only been a few minutes since the shift changed.

Martyn was waiting for her outside of the barracks and he motioned for her to walk with him. They began to circle around the yard, walking quietly and slowly together. Her brother was a short man barely an inch taller than her but he had eyes like a hawk and could shoot a field mouse clean nearly a mile away. Which was why he was always stuck on guard duty.

“Well out with it. I’ve gotta have a sleep too, you know?”

Shanda hesitated. What exactly was she going to tell him? ‘Hey so I got into a knockdown fight with the Blackwood heir last night who threatened to arrest me by the way for a made up list of crimes’. Well mostly made up crimes. That didn’t sound like a good idea.

Martyn spoke in her silence, “Did you bring the knife back?”

Shanda inhaled sharply, grimacing.

“About that, I maybe sort of-“

He cut her off, “Shanda please tell me you didn’t leave it.”

“I didn’t leave it per say. It was jostled from my hands, let's say instead.”

The look Martyn gave her was incredulous to the point of absurdity and it took all of her willpower not to laugh.

“Okay listen. Last night I found out the Blackwood heir has been relegated to guard duty. Overheard an argument between him and another guard.” She glanced around before continuing, the yard was still mostly deserted. “They were arguing about crimes being committed on their lands. I don’t know what crimes but it didn’t sound like they were too happy about it.”

“Benjicot was on guard duty? Wait, and you said the knife was… Did you fight the heir to Raventree?”

Shanda pointedly avoided looking her brother in the eye, a bit embarrassed of her behavior in the light of day.

“To be fair, I didn’t know it was Benjicot. I thought it was just some nameless guard!” She hissed agitated at having been caught in such a situation.

“Shanda, do you have any sense? The mother save you, I certainly can’t! If father were to find out...”

He didn’t have to finish that sentence. Shanda had been walking on thin ice lately. But it wasn’t her fault her father had no vision for house Bracken. She didn’t want to play second fiddle to the Blackwoods for the rest of her life. But he was set in his ways at his age and that meant ‘no sneaking into the borderlands to spy on our sworn rivals’. A foolish and dangerous act that she just couldn’t abide. Hence the sneaking tomfoolery.

“Look I need to get the knife back and I need to figure out what they’re up to. Surely this is suspicious behavior!”

Martyn only shook his head looking thoughtful.

“He could just be doing rounds.”

“In the borderlands? You don’t see our father wasting you there, why would they?”

Sighing heavily he replied, “I don’t know dear sister and I’m too tired to care. Don’t do anything stupid and I’ll see about getting you out again.”

Despite her best efforts her face still lit up at his proclamation.

“No promises. Now go away and annoy someone else for a change huh?”

“Sure thing Martyn. Sleep well!”

Waving him off, she waited til Martyn was out of sight before booking it to the stables. It was time to convince Royce now. A much harder brother to move. Royce was three years younger than her and though seventeen, still incredibly immature. Which was why he was in the stables and wifeless. Not that she had a better track record when it came to potential suitors but she could sympathize with women not wanting to spend a significant amount of time around him.

Entering the stables, Shanda could smell the fresh hay that was being spread out. Reminding her of her own duties she was neglecting while outside brother negotiating. The tasks would hold, this could not.

“Royce? Are you here?”

“No, go away.”

Groaning and already regretting the decision to talk to him, she made her way back towards the corral.

“Wonderful to see you brother.”

“As wonderful as an arrow in the eye. What do you want?”

Royce sat on a barrel, cutting an apple open and eating slices from the blade. In the distance, sounds of horses whinnying could be heard. Shanda decided to cut the pleasantries and get to the point.

“I want you to take me riding. Name your price.”

He smirked, weighing the statement while continuing to eat the apple. Mouth half full he said, “Get me out of the Sept gathering.”

She stood there mouth half agape. Get him out of the mourning ceremony? Genuinely speechless, she just stared at him for a full moment before shaking her head and gathering her thoughts.

“Right. That isn’t for a fortnight though and I need to go riding soon.”

He shrugged.

“Ugh. What else do you want?It’s already going to take a miracle to get you out of the ceremony. Which you should go to. ” She pinched the skin in between her eyes, exasperated.

“Well you shouldn’t sneak out at night but then neither of us is exactly the picture of a perfect person.”

That made her look up. “How did you..? Nevermind, mind your own business Royce. Figure out your price, we ride today. I don’t care if it storms, all the better. I’ll be back after dusk.”

Not bothering to hear his reply she left in a huff. Crossing the yard swiftly she made her way back inside, heading up the stairs into the library tower. Arriving in the room, the familiar sight of rows and rows of shelves met her eyes. Shanda takes the first real deep breath she’s had since yesterday as she sits at her desk. Already two messages have arrived, one about the recent steel shipment that she files away for a conversation with her father. The other is a letter from another of her brothers, Gerald who was currently doing bridge repairs.

Neither captures her attention and soon she finds herself in front of the window gazing out. Not at the yard below but at the trees in the distance. The leaves shimmer and twist in the blowing breeze, almost as if dancing to a hypnotic rhythm. What is the heir doing in the borderlands? The tall grass looks dark and forbidding, jutting up in front of the keep, weaving and swaying back and forth. How long has he been on guard duty? The clouds now a deep rolling luster of plum, illuminate as lightning strikes down the sky. Silently and slowly the rain begins to fall resolute. Would they put him on guard two nights in a row?

The first slow roll of thunder startles her back into the present moment. It didn’t matter, she decided, if he was on guard or not. She had to go back tonight, without Martyn. She’d wait longer, spend the day leisurely and then steal out in the dead of night. It was, of course, a foolish plan. That didn’t matter though, she’d be more prepared tonight and have a solid alibi lined up. It would be more foolish to waste this golden opportunity. All she had to do was make it through dinner, ride out with Royce, avoid martin and then sneak out of the yard tonight. After that she hoped only to find her knife and continue reconnaissance from a safe distance. Easy peasy right?

It was not so. The gods must truly find the riverlanders to be the most accursed of all beings. As the day progressed the storm grew to such a height it would’ve been impossible to ride out in it. It built much like it had the night before, growing to a cloying suffocating state that drenched any and everything. But it had given her an excuse to pull the ripped cloak out and wear it outside as she raced to meet Royce in the stables. Unable to ride didn’t mean he was unable to assist her in this endeavor. All she needed was a warm body and a viable excuse for why her very nice cloak had a nasty gash through the side.

The storm raged against the stables and the horses were restless in their stalls. Royce was sitting, relatively dry she noted, on a stack of hay.

“No riding out in this, sister.”

Shanda smiled, nodding. “I agree.” Then she grabbed a horse shoeing tool off the table and ripped at the already torn cloak.

Satisfied it looked like she’d clumsily tripped into a workbench and once stuck had ripped herself free of it. It was believable enough and she’d already made a deal with Royce for his support should she be questioned too much about it.

“No worries brother. We spent the evening playing games and watching the storm clouds. After which I tripped and ripped my cloak. Very sad and wholly unavoidable.”

“Whatever. Just get me out of the ceremony.”

“Of course. Anyway, I’m going to my room now.”

Departing from the stables, she was immediately soaked through but she did not return to her chambers or even the main keep. Instead she made her way into their private sept. It was freezing and the dim light threw wild shadows against the white stone walls. Only a few small candles lent any light to the room but she was unafraid, striding in and standing before the one stained glass window they owned. On it was a rainstorm depicted and in the dim flickering light the window shone iridescent. The window also depicted a large tree, white with branches ever reaching up. She felt small in the shadow of it.

“Can I help you dear?”

The scratchy voice of old septa Beck made her jump. Her head was in knots today. Why had she come here again? She couldn’t remember. Did she even have a reason? She glanced back at the window, forgetting about the septa. Lightning flashed and the leaves on the window seemed to weep red in the light.

“No. No thanks, Septa Beck. I was just saying a quick prayer before bed.” Shanda smiled gently at her before casting the window one last look and leaving the sept. From there she did return to her chambers, it was time to prepare and plan

Pt.3

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, kidnapping/abduction, obsessive behaviors, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: The 141 team’s fear hardens into fierce determination. The team splits up, scouring the city with relentless focus, driven by a shared promise to bring you back. The hunt is on, and this time, they’re not leaving without you.

Read Part 1 Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 6 Read Part 7 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 5: The Rescue Mission

The atmosphere in the 141’s HQ had shifted—what had started as worry had now solidified into something colder, sharper. Determination hummed in the air, electrifying the space where minutes earlier, dread had pooled in the silence. Ghost stood at the center of it, his masked face tilted down toward the sketches spread out on the table in front of him. The faint glow of the overhead light caught the edges of the rough lines, casting shadows across the grainy paper.

The sketches were crude, but they didn’t need to be perfect. They were enough. Enough to set Ghost’s mind racing back to the bar, to that night—those fleeting glimpses of a figure slipping in and out of the crowd like a phantom. He remembered the man now. The way he lurked on the fringes, his eyes always flickering in your direction, as if waiting for the right moment to strike. And Ghost had dismissed it, chalking it up to the usual riffraff that crowded the place. But now, seeing those sketches, the face twisted in his memory like a knife.

“This is him,” Ghost said, his voice low, gravelly with the weight of what they’d discovered. He jabbed a finger down at the sketch, his eyes narrowing. “I remember seeing him at the bar. He was always there when they were. Watching.”

The room tensed further as the others leaned in. Soap, who had been pacing impatiently, stopped, eyes flicking from the sketch to Ghost. “That bastard’s got to be on the streets somewhere. We can’t sit here, letting him slip through our fingers.”

Ghost nodded. The urgency was palpable. You were out there somewhere, alone, in the hands of a man whose face had been nothing more than a shadow in the background until now. He wouldn’t let that mistake happen again. “We need to hit the streets. We can’t ignore this. Not anymore.”

Soap didn’t need to be told twice. “Right then, let’s move.” His usual humor was absent, replaced by a hardened focus. This wasn’t just a mission—it was personal now. You were one of their own, civilian or not, and every second wasted was a second too long.

Gaz was already slipping on his jacket, his movements quick, efficient. His eyes met Ghost’s with an unspoken agreement: they weren’t coming back empty-handed. Price, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, gave a small nod, already coordinating their moves in his head. He wasn’t the type to rush into action blindly, but there was a steel in his gaze that said he was ready to burn the city down if it meant getting you back.

“Soap, you and Gaz take the east side. I’ll cover the west,” Price said, pushing off the wall. “We’ll meet back here in four hours with whatever we’ve got. Ghost, you keep your eyes on the comms. Anything pops up, we need to know immediately.”

Ghost didn’t argue. Someone needed to keep the operation under control, and there was no one better suited than him. His eyes scanned the maps pinned to the walls, marking potential hotspots where the abductor might hide, places where people went unnoticed. “I’ll stay in touch with the local contacts. We’re not leaving any stone unturned.”

As the team filed out, the weight of the mission pressed down on them. The night outside was heavy with fog, the city lights blurring in the distance. Soap and Gaz moved swiftly, their boots barely making a sound as they hit the streets. Every corner, every alley, every face in the crowd became a potential lead. Gaz’s sharp eyes swept the surroundings, taking in the smallest details, while Soap’s mind churned with thoughts of you, alone and in danger.

Their world, once filled with drinks and shared laughs, now felt eerily quiet. The streets that had once been familiar now felt hostile, as if the city itself was conspiring to keep you hidden. Soap's knuckles tightened around the grip of his weapon, his jaw clenched. “We’ll find ‘em,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “We’ve got to.”

Meanwhile, Price moved with calculated precision through his section of the city. His years of experience sharpened his instincts as he navigated the urban sprawl. He kept his focus on the task, but in the back of his mind, reality gnawed at him: time was running out. You could be anywhere, and the man who took you—this Devon—wasn’t going to make it easy.

Back at HQ, Ghost sat alone, the hum of the comms the only sound in the room. His fingers drummed rhythmically against the table as he monitored the team's progress, his eyes never straying from the maps or the live updates from local informants. Every piece of intel mattered now, no matter how small. He couldn’t shake the image of your captor’s face from his mind, couldn’t shake the guilt that he’d seen him before and done nothing.

But guilt wouldn’t help now. Only action would.

The search was relentless. Soap and Gaz questioned everyone they came across—bartenders, street vendors, anyone who might’ve seen something. Their descriptions were vague, but the sketch of the man with sunken eyes and a dark coat was enough to turn heads. People remembered a guy like that, especially the way he moved in and out of the crowd like a predator.

Hours passed in a blur of frustration and dead ends, but none of them wavered. The team was driven by something far deeper than duty now—an unspoken promise that they wouldn’t leave you behind. Not this time.

And as Ghost sat in the dimly lit HQ, staring down at the map in front of him, a message flickered across the screen. A contact from a nearby neighborhood. A sighting. A lead. His hand moved fast, fingers tapping out commands to alert the team.

The hunt was on. And this time, they were getting you back.

Read Part 6

Coming soon in Part 6, the team stalks through the shadows, closing in on a man whose twisted obsession had gone too far. This was no ordinary rescue. The hunter would become the hunted, and justice would be delivered, swift and unforgiving.

We're halfway through the adventure! Will the team find you in time?

Tag List:

@strawberryrnilk

@rafaelacallinybbay

Let me know if you would like to be added to the list lovely!

[sixlane]

Newlyweds

Jegulus microfic | 830 words | A little Mr & Mrs Smith au thingy for u | pt. 2, pt. 3

“So… what’s your favorite color?” James asks. They’re meant to be getting to know each other but the agency told them not to reveal any identifying information. This is the best he could come up with.

Regulus raises an eyebrow, unamused. James knew it was a stupid question. He’s about to take it back when Regulus looks down at his plate and says, “green, like a dark green. Almost black.”

James hums, studying the way the man in front of him cuts his food into even pieces. He thinks he could learn a lot more about Regulus by just watching him rather than asking superficial questions. Regulus likes order. Noted.

After a minute of silence, broken only by the scraping of silverware, James speaks again.

“Now it’s your turn to ask a question. See, we’re doing a back and forth thing here. Swapping secrets. If we’re going to be fake married we have to know things about each other.”

Regulus doesn’t miss a beat. “I already know everything I need to know about you, James.” 

James scoffs. This is going to be the longest mission of his life. He’s known Regulus for all of an hour and he���s barely gotten five full sentences out of him.

“Ok, tell me three things you know about me. If you get something wrong, I get to ask you anything I want.”

Regulus sets his knife and fork down neatly next to his plate. He wipes his mouth, clears his throat, and looks up at James, pinning him with an icy gray stare. For a second, James loses his breath to the chill. Regulus’ eyes slide over him, stopping at his lips for a brief moment, but James catches it all the same.

“You’re an only child, you’re rich already so you’re not in this for the money, and you’ve been married before, maybe recently. I’d probably even say that’s why you’re here.” Regulus takes a sip from his wine glass, not looking away from James as he does it.

“How did you… Did the supervisor tell you about me? Because that’s not fair I didn’t get anything on y—” 

Regulus cuts him off with a hand. “You’ve been talking incessantly since the second I got here. Attention seeking behavior. Only child. That was probably the biggest stretch but I figured I’d give it a shot. You’re wearing an Armani sweater, so that one wasn’t even hard, and you have a tan line around your left ring finger. Is the divorce even finalized yet?”

James just stares, mouth parted in an attempt to form literally any word from the wide array of languages he knows. Nothing comes, though.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a spy, James? This is day one stuff.” Regulus goes back to his meal. A curl of his hair falls briefly in front of his eyes and he brushes it back with elegant fingers. 

James doesn’t think he’s ever been speechless in this life. All he can think to say is, “the divorce is finalized.” 

“Did you love them?”

Well, that was unexpected. He answers anyway. “Yes”

“Do you still love them?”

“No, not anymore,” James mutters, looking down. It’s true but that doesn’t mean it’s not still tender.

“Good.”

James shoots a look at Regulus then, incredulous. “Good?” he asks. “Why is that good?”

“No attachments, James. It’s bad business.” He says it so casually, so plainly, but James can see a twitch between his brows. This hits home for him too.

“You forget, honey, we’re married now. It’s me and you ‘till the end. We’re ‘attached’ for life.” He smirks, wanting to move the conversation away from lost loves. Hoping the humor will smooth the tension in Regulus’ face.

“We’re fake married, James. Partners. That’s it.” He’s looking up at James through jet black lashes and James finds himself thinking about running his fingers lightly across them. Counting every one until he runs out of numbers. 

“It doesn’t have to be.” Okay, maybe he’s flirting now. So what? If they’re going to be stuck together he might as well make it interesting.

“Yes it does.” Regulus says, but James doesn’t miss how a slight flush creeps onto his cheeks. “We’re doing this by the book. It’s easier that way, trust me.”

“Oh I'm not worried about me, Regulus. I can keep my hands to myself. Don’t think I haven’t missed the way you’ve been looking at my mouth, though. I can be observant, too.”

Regulus looks away, obviously flustered, and James preens internally for getting a reaction out of him.

“I’m going to bed,” Regulus says, getting up. 

Before he’s out of the room, James responds. “Alright, love. Let me know if you want some company. You know where to find me.”

Regulus stops. It’s too long of a pause, almost like he’s considering the offer, but he doesn’t look back. “Goodnight, James,” he whispers before heading up the stairs, and James swears he hears a smile in it.

[romanoffsbish]

Remember Your Place

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Prompts Request

“Mommy isn’t very pleased with the outfit you chose to wear tonight, you made those fools think they stood a chance.” / “Maybe they did.” / *incredulous laughter* “Is that right baby? I go on one week long business trip and you just forget who you belong to? Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll remind you.”

Wanda really loves you, but in the wake of your bratty behavior she has to feel you love her too. Entrusting her with your body was the way you effortlessly showed her this reciprocation.

Warnings: Full on Smut. Jealousy. Knife/Blood. Labeled with warnings, please don’t report.

Smut: Mommy(W), “Semi-public” Sex, Bratty R, “Rough” Sex, Knife Play, Restrictions(R-Belt), Oral (W-Face Riding), Fingering(R), Punishment (Edging/Denial), Overstimulation, Strap (R), Total KO, Promised Aftercare.

"Mommy isn't very pleased with the outfit you chose to wear tonight, you made those fools think they stood a chance," Wanda seethed while haphazardly throwing you on the bed.

"Maybe they did," you huffed, upper body raised defiantly on your elbows as you stare daggers into your lovers amused eyes, the same one who left you in this same bed desperate, then caught a plane to Prague last Saturday.

Wanda laughed incredulously as she slowly removed her belt from the loops of her slacks. "Oh, is that right baby?" she stalked over to the bed with a dangerous smile, and you screeched wildly when she grabbed you by your calves and yanked your body down, causing your upper body to fall back, and legs to dangle.

————

"I go on one week long business trip and you just forget who you belong to?" she scoffed while wrapping her belt around your hands. "Don't worry sweetheart, I'll remind you."

A gasp of something reminiscent to terror and shock mixed left you when she pulled a pocket knife from her boot, and brought it to the top of your shirt. "What a shame," she tutted, then ran the surprisingly sharp blade down the front of your shirt. "I liked that blouse."

You watched her step away to undress, her pants fell and unshielded the strap she'd kept hidden from you all night. "Mhm, if only you were patient, then I'd have been filling your needy pussy up in no time," she chuckled darkly when your brows furrowed, and then your face fell when she discarded the silicone.

"M-mommy, no, I-I'm so..."

"Save it brat!" she cowered over you with a deadly glare. "Those are my employees out there, and you practically let them eye fuck what was mine with a smile on your face."

It wasn't hard for you to see the actual hurt in her eyes, and if not for the wet spot, and painful pit in your stomach you'd try to undo this with comfort, but if there's one thing you've learned about Wanda, it's that the only thing to cure her anger is to fuck you stupid.

"Lay back, and use that disrespectful mouth for some actual good," she barked out, but then groaned at the unacceptable defiance in your eyes that she intended to fuck out of you soon.

"Wait, what about the people downstairs?" she smirked at the sudden realization dawning upon your dizzy mind. "Don't worry about them now detka," contrary to her mood, she softly caressed your cheek as she kissed you.

Then her grip tightened causing you to whimper as she held you firmly in place so you couldn't evade her gaze. "It's important I set a precedent here to remind them that if they wish to keep their families fed, they should remember to keep their eyes to themselves."

A chill ran down your spine when you felt her blade suddenly laying against your collarbone. "Then there's you, the brat who needs a proper reminding of who the hell she belongs to," the tip of the sharp blade pricked your skin as her accented words slipped through gritted teeth.

"Make mommy cum, and I promise I won't edge you for the entire night," she winked down at you as she relinquished her hold on your jaw, then before you could even adjust to the freedom she was straddling your head, and lowering her glistening cunt onto your lips.

Wanda's hips moved against you passionately, moans of all sorts etched out of her throat as you swirled your tongue around her entrance just before entering her and using your nose to offer her clit a base of friction as she used you to get off. It was honestly killing you not to be able to touch her the way you pleased, your hands naturally fought against their restraints, but you weren't going to outright complain lest you'd lose your privilege to taste her essence.

Once she came undone you eagerly met her tired thrusts so that you could lap up her slick. Then when she shimmied down, trailing her hot wetness down your bare abdomen you moaned and your thighs clenched together causing the blitzed out woman to smirk.

"Tell me now detka," she husked against your ear as her hand hovered over your panties, "Who does this pretty pussy belong to, hm?" you gasped as her hand aggressively cupped you from over the wetted fabric, and she chuckled when you humped up into her palm like the desperate whore you clearly were.

"Answer the question," she murmured against your jaw, her teeth now nibbling the thin layer of skin. "I'm yours mommy," she hummed., "And this pussy?"you whimpered as her fingers slid beneath your drenched panties and began to slowly run through your slicked folds. "All yours mommy, every single part of me."

"Atta girl," she slammed her lips to yours, catching your shriek as she entered you with three fingers, and began to pump her fingers into you unrelentingly. "Jeez Y/N, are you really this fucking desperate to be filled?" she grunted while picking up her pace to combat the resistance she'd already been met with.

"Clenching around my fingers already like a virgin meeting ecstasy for the first time," she tutted humorously," Too bad you were such a despicable brat tonight," she growled, her fingers now stilled, and it took everything in you not to break down sobbing right there.

"Mommy, please," you begged, and received a teasing curl of her fingers, but there was no enjoyment in the action as they left you just as fast. "No, I said I wouldn't edge you all night long, not that I wouldn't edge you at all."

Wanda was many things, but a liar wasn't one of those, so for the next hour she'd kept you on the edge with her tongue, and fingers taking turns as her weapon of choice. At this point your cunt was aching, and beyond sensitive, but your cries meant nothing to the redhead. They only spurred her on really, so much so that she was content with the idea of leaving you desperate for release until the sun rose.

"Mommy, I-I can't take it anymore," you shrieked as she pushed the hilt of her knife against your hole. "Oh, but I'm positive you can detka," she pushed the handle further into you. "Just indulge mommy, and if you're good I'll get my strap on and rail you properly."

Wanda knew that you were close to calling out your safe word, the sweat dripping from your tense body a sign that she's worked you up. There was just something about watching the way your overworked, puffy cunt sucked her knife in that left her too mesmerized to care. The sealed redwood with fun designs was now abundantly overlayed in your slick, and she was overjoyed for the knife handles new scent as she pulled it out just before you released.

"It's okay," she coo'd, her hands covered in you slowly wiped away at your falling tears. "Did you learn your lesson detka?" you nodded wildly, and she giggled while moving to kiss your lips. "I think you deserve to cum now."

Wanda clambered off the bed, a smile on her face as you whined for her missing presence. Smooth as can be she settled into her harness, then next she was quelling your noises with a sweet kiss, and a gentle smile. "You ready?"

Wanda slid against your sensitive cunt to collect your arousal, then with one swift thrust of her hips her strap was sheathed within you. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, and in an unexpected twist she pulled you closer before flipping your positions. "Ride me."

In your exhaustion you found the task at hand confusing, but then she thrusted upward, and it all suddenly clicked. "There you go detka.," she purred as you began to hop up and down, allowing her to lean back and enjoy the show.

As soon as you screamed in pleasure Wanda thrusted her hips up, then used the leverage to flip you back into the mattress so she could continue to fuck you through the high. Her arms hooked under your calves, then her hands shifted to your thighs, pushing your legs up and into you allowed her to reach deeper.

The muscles in your legs quivered beneath her fingertips as the tip of her strap continued to rut into you as if a sex crazed mania took over her entire body. Her continuous, deep thrusts led to a euphoric display of convulsions that soon melded into a pleasurable stillness. Your abused body having slumped into the mattress with your lips upturned blissfully, and her shiny strap now exposed as you'd slightly slipped off of her length. It was completely glistening and you were softly snoring.

"Fuck, baby, I-I fucked you to sleep, I knew I was good, but look at you; I'm magnificent," she chuckled out breathlessly. Oh God did you make her breathless, that first time she ever saw you told her as such; you took her breath away, and instead of suffocated she felt liberated. Every time she saw you she'd softly gasp, it wasn't a habit, it was a bodily response.

Wanda has loved you from the very start, you had such an ability to weave your way into her heart and she wanted to hate it, but she could never, because it was you. It was always you, and it always will be. You're her everything.

Wanda watched in amusement as your body tried to regain it's conscious control, but you were slipping in and out, she was honestly shocked when you started speaking coherently.

"Mommy, I-I'm sorry, I-I only want you, yo-you are all I'll ever need," you stuttered frantically, with labored breaths every few words. Wanda shushed you lovingly with her soft finger and adoring smile, it melted you.

"Moya lyubov', it's okay, mommy knows, you needed me, and I was too busy, I'm sorry," you smiled dopily and though she melted, she was still feeling filthy. "I'll remember to bring your collar and leash next time, make it clear it'll be me fucking you at the end of the night," you clenched so damn hard around her that it reverberated across the strap and caused her to cry out. "Oh detka, you can't take anymore."

You whimpered and she leaned in to kiss you softly, "It would be irresponsible of me to keep going moya lyubov', you're barely holding on."

You tiredly shook your head, it probably felt like you were going a mile a minute, but your head hardly moved. Wanda chuckled, then continued to kiss your face, tenderly, as if each one was a reassurance of her unending love.

Because boy, oh boy, did she love you.

If you were her multiverse then she'd be destined for madness. You were her favorite constellation to trace, she knew every delicious curve of your body, and could recreate the path of your natural and given marks with her eyes closed with exact precision. She knew you in ever sense of the word. And you knew her too.

Divined to be each others person for life.

Wanda placed a gentle kiss to your parted lips, "Get some rest moya lyubov'," she pulled out, and though you were truly knocked out you whimpered at the unrecognizable emptiness. "I'll be here to care for you when you awake."

The light was shut off, and the redhead waltzed down the stairs of your home with pride as she took in the gobsmacked faces of her employees.

Natasha smirked. "I know you're not huge on sharing, but we already share a company," the woman passed her a flute of champagne, and Wanda sipped the beverage down before she returned her smirk, "I'll consider the offer."

——

1,988 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥰

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I kind of wanna see Lizard (Nubia)'s and Crocodile's confrontation and I wanna see Luffy's reaction to seeing his little sister again.

Have a drabble

When Crocodile said that he would be gone for the rest of the day, Nubia hadn't thought much of it. It wasn't the first time, and she's sure that it wouldn't be the last. He's a busy man, and she has long since come to accept the schedule that comes with that. So, she did what she usually does when he's gone and finds ways to entertain herself. She was in the middle of reading a new book when she heard the front door slam open so hard that she half expected to hear the door fall off the hinges and hit the ground next.

For a moment, terror grips her heart, fully believing that someone just broke into her home.

But then, the heavy and familiar steps of her father echoes through the pent house. They sound off, though. Like he's staggering and disoriented. Nubia is frozen for a moment, but the sound of the door to Crocodile's office opening and closing snaps her out of it. In an instant, she's scrambling off of her bed and sprinting out of her room, fearing the worst. Was her father injured? Who could have possibly been strong enough to harm him?

As she's rounding the corner of the hallway that will take her to his office, she trips over something. She stumbles, but is able to catch herself before she can hit the ground. She whips her head around to see what tripped her, and she's confused by what she sees.

A single sandal is laying in the hallway.

Nubia bends down to grab it. The shoe doesn't belong to her, and it's far too small to be Crocodile's. Not to mention very much not his fashion.

Now Nubia was questioning her deduction that Crocodile was the one who had burst in here. The footsteps had sounded like his in terms of weight... but where the hell did this random sandal come from?

Crashing and muffled yelling comes from the office, making Nubia flinch. Clutching the shoe in her hand, she creeps towards the office door. She takes a deep breath, then cracks the door open to peek in.

Sure enough, she does see Crocodile. He's hunched over on the floor, appearing to be fighting with something- no, someone. Wiry limbs flail behind her father's hulking frame. One of the legs kicking out sticks out to her. The foot is bare.

Was this person where the shoe came from? And why the hell is her dad fighting with someone in his office? Not only that, but he looks like he's genuinely struggling to suppress them. Whoever this person is, they sound furious. They're yelling and screaming, but it sounds like something is in their mouth.

Nubia pushes the door open, worry winning out over her knowing that Crocodile would absolutely not want her to intervene. She calls out to him, "Dad? What's going on? Are you hurt?"

Crocodile's reaction is instant. In a second, his coat is ripped off and forced over the writhing human on the floor. He whips around, uncharacteristically frazzled. His hair is disheveled and his face is bruised. He looks furious and snaps at her, "Get out! Go back to your room!"

The raised voice of her father makes her jump and lock up. While her brain tries to make sense of and rationalize this behavior, the person under the coat manages to poke their head out from under it.

Nubia can't breathe.

Everything stops as she stares at the boy, making eye contact with him. There's a scar under his left eye... and a straw hat with a red band on it. Nubia feels like the air around her is thick enough to cut with a knife and impossible to breathe. In lieu of words, all she can do is shakily point at him as her brain is running in a million directions all at once. He... He can't be...

The boy takes advantage of Crocodile being distracted to kick him in the face and lunge towards her, though he's unable to go far thanks to the handcuffs chaining him to a fixture on the wall. He spits out the handkerchief in his mouth and screams desperately, "Nubia!"

Crocodile quickly recovers from the kick and lurches forward, wrapping his hand around the boy's throat and slamming him against the wall.

"Luffy!" That's him. That's her brother. That's her very real brother. She runs forward and grabs Crocodile's shoulders, trying to pull him off of her long lost brother. "Let go of him! You're hurting him!"

Her attempts do absolutely nothing. Crocodile effortlessly shoves her back, making her fall to the floor. This doesn't stop her, and she quickly tries a new approach. She snatches up the half empty pitcher of water on the floor and throws the contents right at her father, making sure to soak him as much as possible.

The water successfully weakens the devil fruit user enough for Nubia to knock him to the ground, freeing Luffy from his grasp. She can hear Luffy coughing and gasping behind her, but her full attention is on her father.

She grabs the front of his vest and holds him in place. Raw, emotionally charged screams erupt from her throat, "You lied! You lied to me! You said I imagined them!"

Crocodile's eye twitches, and his arm snaps forward to wrap around her middle and pin her against him. Nubia pounds her fists against his chest uselessly as he stands up and carries her over to his desk. His hand rips open a drawer and pulls out a pair of handcuffs before dragging Nubia to the opposite side of the room.

Luffy has his feet against the wall, straining against it as he frantically tries to break the fixture he's attached to. He's drenched in sweat and looks haggard, like his energy is actively being drained from him. He snarls and yells at Crocodile, "Don't touch my sister! I'll kick your ass if you hurt her!" He aggressively yanks at his cuffs again, "Actually, I'm going to kick your ass no matter what!"

Nubia was fighting just as hard, punching and kicking her father wildly in a desperate attempt to free herself. Crocodile doesn't react to either of them, instead silently focusing on handcuffing her to a handle on a filing cabinet.

The second that he steps back, Nubia is yanking on it, trying to get it to move. Much to her dismay, it's too heavy and doesn't even budge. She snaps her head up at her father, glaring at him. She starts yelling again, "How could you?! You've lied to my face every damn day for the last ten years!"

Much to her fury, Crocodile ignores her. He wipes at his face with his sleeve, trying to dry up the water she dumped on him. He stomps over to his desk and takes out a cigar, lighting it hastily. He takes long drags from it while refusing to acknowledge either of the infuriated teenagers chained up in his office.

His seemingly nonchalant attitude only fueled the fire raging inside of Nubia. After a series of increasingly violent tugs on the filing cabinet, she refocuses on her father and screams at him, "I hate you!"

Crocodile still has his back to her, but she doesn't miss the slight way that his shoulders tense. He exhales a cloud of smoke, then responds in a tone so cold that it stabs her in the heart, "I don't care." He finally turns to face her, and his expression matches his voice fully. "I don't care if you hate me. You'll get over it. This is all one big misunderstanding. I'm doing all of this for your own good. Everything that I've ever done has been for your own good."

While Nubia is stunned by his words, Crocodile swipes a few more cigars from his desk and heads for the door, walking right past Luffy who lunges at him again despite not being able to even come close to reaching him.

Before leaving, he turns to regard Nubia again, "I have to get back to work. We'll discuss this later." With that, he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Hot, frustrated tears pour down Nubia's face as the crushing weight of everything that just transpired bears down on her. Most of her god damned life had been a lie, and she's terrified to learn what else isn't true.

[yestrday]

— TIE ME UP. yan! rich kid! childe x gn! mercenary! reader

your latest hit is a boy named ajax. the job's easy— kidnap him, bully him a bit, then send him back without any will to live. easy enough, it seems, but not everything will go the way you expect it.

( reader is not a good person; murder, mentions of torture; kidnapping; obsessive behavior, tying up, slight mentions of n/sfw, masochistic childe )

note. ahhhh im in a writing a slump so i decided to write the other part of anon's request to practice. idk if it's good enough, but childe will always be my go to whenever i want some disgusting yandere boy

you might like: childe's spiked drink

it's nothing you haven't seen. someone wants someone dead and they would pay millions just to see that come true. you whistle when you open the case of green bills for the nth time this day and the sight makes you smile.

what a haul you've gotten. despite the dread that's been growing inside you since you took this job, the million worth of cash inside this single suitcase is enough for you to retire. maybe you'll finally take a break from all this gory business, find a nice plot of land where the police can't find you, and make a farm for yourself. that sounds nice.

determined to finally finish this once and for all, you slam the suitcase shut and chuck it into the back of your car, along with the squirming ginger screaming at you through his gags.

"it'll be all over soon, love," you croon, sporting a wicked smile. "jus' get some sleep in here, mmkay?"

with one last muffled scream of his, you slam the trunk on the poor man's shaking expression and rev the engine to life.

"'ello there, babe," is the first thing the boy hears when he blinks his eyes awake. "good ting ya slept, hm? the road here was full of em potholes. not exactly pleasant for a passenger in the truck, right?"

it's a classic stereotype— that heavy country accent tinged with seduction and danger— even you're painfully aware of how cheesy your voice is. but it's what you were raised with, plus most of your victims dig the accent anyway, so might as well make use of it. the boy grimaces when the single fluorescent bulb swaying on the ceiling hits his sight, and he lets out a little grunt. 

"ajax childe. third son of the ceo of childe's toy corporation and now…" you plop yourself onto the wooden seat in front of him, nonchalantly waving the knife in front of his wide-eyed stare. "the target of some rich sod's hatred." you give him a lookover, from his ruffled ginger hair, his lean bod, down to his strong calves. clearly, he's been working out. you sigh in mock pity. "what the hell did ya do anyway? make off with someone's girl?" he's pretty enough to entertain the thought, and judging how flirtatious he acts in front of the paparazzi, that very well might be the case.

he protests against the gag once again, and you shake your head. "sorry, babe. not really in the mood to listen to sum brat scream." you tap your cheek as you contemplate on what to do with him. "hmm... they didn't actually want ya dead, if i'll be honest with ya. just bully ya a little till ya want yerself dead, y'feel? it's good to 'ave less blood on my hands, but hm, when i get commissions like these..." you cock your head, pondering over the countless victims you had over the last decade.

"they don't usually come out alive, yanno?"

another muffled scream through the gag, and you watch in boredom as he tries to wiggle his way out of his binds. clearly, however, it's futile when all he accomplishes is burn himself with the rope. well, what else was he expecting? you were a hired mercenary, he a mere ceo's son living a cushy life. there really was no challenge here.

but looking at him... you feel somewhat sympathetic. you have no respect for those high-class scum who like to hide behind fake smiles and faker compliments. but the kid in front of you was just some irresponsible young adult who just happened to be born into the elite, and well, if he wasn't the son of such a big corporation, he'd probably have gotten away with whatever he did. such was the consequence of having too many eyes on you. maybe it'd make you less worse of a human being if you let this kid air his grievances out.

you sigh, getting up from your spot. "alright, alright, i'll ungag you. just shut up already, jeez." he seems to jostle around less when you say that, and you swiftly untie the cloth to let him talk.

you already know what to expect— teary pleas, desperate bribes, maybe even some angry threats. all these are common in victims and more often than not are you forced to listen to all that shit before you decide to gag them again or just shoot them in the head. so you brace yourself for whatever agonizing scream they might have in store for you.

"ah..."

you grimace. here it comes.

"you're prettier than anything i've imagined..." he tilts his pretty face up, gazing at you with lovestruck eyes under the shine of the harsh light. your shock is mirrored in those loony eyes as his smile widens till it almost splits his face into two,

"...[your name]."

"what the fuck?!" instinctively, you recoil away from him, taking steps back while he continues to pin that heart-eyed stare on you. "what in the–?! how the fuck do you know me?!"

"oh, [your name], is there anything i don't know about you?" this... this freak sighs almost dreamily, and it makes you grimace by how slimy it is. "your name, your occupation (obviously), your favorite drinks, your... heh, three sizes!" he lets out a low giggle. "finally...! to finally see you right in front of my very eyes!"

you blanch. "three...?!" this cannot do. you are being outdone and outsmarted by some rich playboy. clearing your throat, you regain your composure and narrow your eyes at him in a glare (why... why is he shivering?!). "bluffs won't save you from your fate, childe."

you live a life in the shadows. leaving traces of yourself for people to find could spell to be your doom, and yet here was this kid claiming that he knew everything there is to you. it was a laughable attempt at a bluff, and he only caught you offguard by that disgusting grin of his. you're confident enough in your own abilities that you know that no one would be ever able to track you—

"[your name] [last name]. single father, three siblings, but they're all dead. you became a mercenary at age 16 and you go to your headquarters every weekend. you like the cafe at sixth avenue and you order the fourth thing on the menu almost every time." his grin widens when he sees the alarmed expression on your face. "should i tell you more?"

impossible. gritting your teeth, you pull him by his collar, almost tipping his chair over until you catch it with your knee. it... spreads his legs and pushes against his bulge, and you want to scrub yourself clean when you see his red blush and lip-bite. "how the fuck d'you know all that?" you snarl. you shake him. "tell me!"

"because i love you," he says, almost breathless. he looks at you with eyes so full of devotion and obsession that you might believe him. "there's not a single piece of you that i don't love."

you pull your lip back. "you're fuckin' disgusting."

"ah, but!" he wiggles in his chair, his clothes straining against the binds. "you're the one who tied me up like this! all vulnerable and ready for you to torture, right?"

you can't believe this man. "that's how kidnappings go, you idiot!" unable to hold on to this weirdo any longer, you let go of him and he and the chair he's tied to collapse to the floor. it's a nasty fall, but you're too busy rubbing your hands together in some attempt to rid yourself of the germs he may have transferred over to you.

the gasp of delight when he hits the floor grates like metal against your ear, and he squirms when you look down at him with such hate and disgust in those pretty eyes of yours. "is it starting? are you gonna torture me now?" your eyes flit to the array of tools you laid out on the counter, but now you feel reluctant to dirty this man's blood with the tools you painstakingly polished to shine. "ah~ ♡ i wonder what you're gonna do to me! are you gonna cut me up and leave me to bleed? tie me up till it hurts to breathe? ah, [your name] ♡" he calls your name with ecstasy. "i'm so excited to see what you'll do!"

with your back turned towards him and facing the tools, you don't grace him with a reply. instead, you bite your lip, panicked and pale expression reflected in the cold reflection of a knife.

'why me?!' your thoughts scream. 'i've never met this man in my life before!'

'how am i supposed to break someone who's gone too fucking far?!'

he continues to smile at your back, watching as you contemplate which torture device you'll bless him with for that night.

'so, so cute!' you're shorter than him, but somehow the thought of you dominating him and spilling his blood makes his jeans tighter. 'they're gonna make me go through sooo much pain, i can feel it! they'll have the power to kill me. they might kill me!'

just like that man you shot in that alleyway, eyes staring blankly at the mess of guts and brain splattered against the wall. there was no remorse in your eyes as you wipe the blood off your cheek with the back of your hand. no remorse as you stuff that body into a bag and make a mess all over yourself.

he remembers it clearly. your skintight black bodysuit, how the blood seemed to match your soulless eyes, the peek of tongue as you licked the blood from your thumb— he remembers it all too well.

how could he not, when he had his back pressed to the wall, out of your sight, hand clamped to suppress his noises. not a terrified scream, mind you. but his heavy breaths as he continued to observe you from a distance.

better than an angel. more divine than an angel. you were the reaper itself, stained in blood and black.

and his obsession with that reaper grew, as you revved off with your motorcycle with the corpse in tow, and he lay in the alley shadows with a hand in his jeans and blood at his feet.

if you had looked closely beneath all the money, maybe you'd see one damning clue that would tell you that this commission was a bad idea. a clue stitched at the bottom of the suit, fancy lettering showcasing initials in cursive:

a.c.

ajax childe's grin grows wider when he sees you finally settle on a tool. even when bound up and knocked to the floor, those hungry eyes and crazed grin seem to make him more of a predator than the you holding a knife.

[aettuddae]

business matter — chapter 89.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

the sound of the intercom came on and serim, who was in the kitchen preparing her dinner, turned her head to look at the screen to see who was downstairs. she found the image of karina, distracted, not even looking at the camera, just waiting for it to open. she walked over, hung up the phone so the noise would stop and then pressed the button that unlocked the door. she paid no more attention to it and went back to what she was preparing at the bar.

the door opened, letting in a jimin who looked lost, dazed. she closed it behind her, pushing it shut with her body, her back resting against the wood. her gaze wandered around the room, bland, with nothing in those eyes. she stood there in silence while the owner of the place checked her out of the corner of her eye, disoriented, and then went back to her task.

"did something happen?" asked serim after realizing she wouldn't move from there, without taking her attention away from the meal she was making.

"yes." the word came out almost in a whisper, on the verge of being inaudible, the tone almost as somber as her entire act.

jang raised her head quickly, alerted by the response, she kept her calm without moving, but now she was interested in understanding where the newcomer's behavior was coming from. she frowned wordlessly, waiting for further development. jimin turned her head, fixing her eyes on serim who returned the contact, perturbed. as soon as they met, the younger girl's expression changed to one of helplessness, sadness.

"jongin cheated on me." she admitted, the volume of her voice as low as the one she had used before.

the elder could hear the sentence clearly, processed the words and thought of something to say, but could only find adequate a dry chuckle. "i told you so." she returned her gaze to the vegetables she was chopping.

"really?" she detached her head away from the material she was leaning against, turning her face to pure disbelief. "that's all you'll say?" she raised her voice, vexed.

"i have nothing more to say." she denied. "i told you so." she shrugged. "didn't i?"

"yes, you did." she assured. "but is that really all that matters to you now?" she broke away from the door and walked over to where the woman stood.

"it's not the only thing that matters to me." she held up the board with vegetables. "i just don't have anything else to say." with the help of the knife she pushed what she had just cut causing it to fall into the pot that was not yet lit.

"i came here expecting you to comfort me." she put her body in front of serim as she was returning to the place where she was cooking, blocking her way.

"forgive me if it doesn't bloom in me to comfort you when you've been toying with my emotions for almost two weeks." she set the board and knife down on the table, then faced her.

"i explained to you why i'm doing it." the wistful hint returned to her. "you know i don't want to, but i can't do anything else."

"then i can't do anything else for you now either." she returned, looking straight into her brown orbs, so close to each other that there was almost no space in between. "you should have gone with ryujin." she opined.

jimin dropped her head, now her gaze on the ground, she didn't know how to continue that conversation, maybe serim was right and she had been wrong to go there. the latter took her slumped position as a sign that there was nothing more to discuss and intended to go around her to continue what she was doing before she arrived, but as soon as she wanted to take a step, yu's hand rested on the side of her body, stopping her, bringing her back to where she was.

"can you at least hug me?" she asked, vulnerable, defeated, her voice fighting to get out of her throat.

serim was angry with her, of course she was, she knew she didn't deserve how she had been being treated by the girl, but not even all the turmoil of thoughts she had been having during those weeks when the contrary had been avoiding her could cease the longing and despair that seeing her in that state generated within. no matter how much she wanted to or tried, she couldn't allow herself to know she was suffering and not help to stop it.

so she raised her arms and taking advantage of the closeness between them, she easily wrapped her between these, one encircling her torso, with her open hand resting flat on her lower back and the other on the back of her head, running her fingers through her hair as a sign that she was there for her. jimin's arms were trapped between their bodies so she took serim's shirt between her fingers, making sure she was holding her close in some way.

"please, take care of me." the blackhaired requested with fragility exposing in the way she spoke.

hearing her plea, the oldest moved back her head which was resting against the opposite's, creating space for her to catch a glimpse of jimin's face, noticing the tears in her eyes. she brought her touch from the back of her neck to her cheek, running her thumb over karina's porcelain skin, caressing it, then sliding it to where the teardrops were and wiping them away carefully. as soon as serim removed her hand and let it drop to the side of her waist, they both looked at each other without saying a word.

there was a lot to say, but that wasn't what mattered at the moment, it wasn't what summoned them there.

karina leaned in quickly, without serim noticing her movements, and left a peck on her lips, a brush, nothing more than that, to wait after for how the girl would react. she hadn't been able to hold it back, she no longer knew how to keep control around the woman and had completely forgotten how she did it before. she only wanted serim's affection, especially when emotions got the better of her.

serim sighed, taking a moment to decide if she should pull away, looking at karina's lips, then into her eyes, her fingers still on her back playing with the shirt she was wearing, a product of anxiety. but she couldn't deny to herself what the girl made her feel either, so she threw her body over the other, kissing her restlessly, turbulently. tasting her mouth hungrily as if she'd never done it before.

when karina spoke of comfort, this was exactly the comfort she was referring to.

jang exerted pressure on the youngest's body, guiding her through the kitchen, eventually leaning her against the counter where she was cooking before. without interrupting the session, she stretched out her arm and tried to move things that might be a nuisance on the counter, then put both hands on the younger's waist, grabbing her securely and lifting her to help her sit on the marble, then positioned herself between her legs.

[tonkatsubowl]

false love v.

jing yuan x fem!reader

nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk.

english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until…

TERM DIRECTORY

◖y/n: your name

◖e/c: eye color

◖h/c: hair color

◖l/n: last name

part one. ꕤ part two. ꕤ part three. ꕤ part four. ꕤ part six. ꕤ part seven.

➽ requested tags: @krowjet @beidousbubz @its-astrotea-love @5sos-wdw

ever since that incident had occurred, general jing yuan had decided to enforce security measures around the residential and city parts of xianzhou luofu. no woman should go through the terrors that you've been through, and never shall you ever suffer through those traumatizing events ever again.

the one thing that was definitely different though was how you stood up for yourself. you never once did, in fear that your father would scold you... or really, it was your brain that was so accustomed to fear, you were deathly afraid of standing up to it.

but you finally did. and you didn't know why—but the reason for it all was the man that stood in front of you several times, carrying a basket of fresh fruit and a small cutting knife in his free hand.

doctor's orders—you remained in the infirmary room for a couple of weeks now, and life had been strangely... well, unsurprisingly enough, peaceful. you were taken care of, and your husband had frequented the infirmary to visit you every day. he brought you a fresh plate of neatly cut fruit, some stories to tell, and he often brought mimi (sometimes the nurse hated how much she shed in the room) to purr and snuggle against you.

a day didn't pass without jing yuan visiting you, and you definitely expected his presence at least twice a day... or thrice, even.

...until today.

"huh? you're... you're going somewhere?" your eyes avert towards the general, confusion evident as he looked at you with his usual, loving and soft gaze. "where to? are... will you be busy?"

the marriage between you and jing yuan had definitely enabled some sort of separation anxiety behavior from you. he had always been by your side no matter what, especially during your days of recovering in the infirmary room.

"yes, y/n," he reached out to your countenance, his index finger brushing against your bangs, moving them behind your ear, "you will always be my priority. however, today must be different, for i must tend to my personal duties. i assure you that i will return safely, and the nurses will make sure that your needs are met during my absence."

...gone? was this a lie? a lie to get rid of you? no, no. stop, don't think like that. if he wanted to get rid of you, he would've done so already. you shake your head from your negative thoughts, fighting every bit of doubt and anxiety that plagued your mind.

"...okay." you nod, your gaze lowering to your bare hands, eyeing a piece of freshly cut strawberry in the palm of your hand, "please be safe... please come back home safely."

that was several hours ago.

to be specific, almost an entire day had passed since jing yuan left to his unknown expedition. for whatever reason, you didn't know. lieutenant yan qing wasn't around either, so you could only assume that his right hand man had accompanied him.

now, you were alone in your infirmary, sitting on your bed as you stared out into the moonlight. you could see the aurum alley from here, watching as the streets were bustling with joy, drunkards and happy children. you thought back to when jing yuan had taken you there, too. you had fun, up until you were abducted that same night.

nothing but your thoughts accompanied you, and you definitely were... tense. tense, anxious, nervous... and worried, even if you tried not to be worried.

you had missed jing yuan, and every time you had heard distant footsteps outside your door, you'd always expect and hope that it belonged to the military general. unfortunately, it wasn't exactly him, and it would be mere nurses who wandered around outside, even entering your room which gave you the false hope that your husband returned.

... but where did he go? he didn't tell you where, and wasn't being specific either. his personal... affairs? what did he mean by that?

you sighed silently to yourself as you got up from your bed, knowing you weren't supposed to be getting up. you grit your teeth, bearing through the pain as you wanted to know more information about his whereabouts... why he was being secretive. why he suddenly disappeared...

you knew you shouldn't be doing this but also... you missed the fresh breath of air. so you decided to sneak out, rip the medical monitor lines taped to your body and make your way outside whilst sneaking around the nurses and avoiding their gazes.

you were in pain, but you were losing your mind as you were stuck in that room for gods know how long? the moment you got out, you felt a fresh wave of freedom brushing over you... the same feeling where you left your home for the first time to move towards the sanctum.

you looked towards the sky, eyeing at the moon as it gazed upon you with his full glory, as though expecting you to return to it's brightening embrace. you inhale, taking in the fresh scent of air, missing the distant scent of herbal tea and nature that twirled within the air...

... ah, how you miss jing yuan. you wondered how he was doing...

"are you sure you want to do this?" yan qing frowned. "i mean, i'm not questioning your commands at all, sir. but it's just... do you suspect the l/n family is associated with the xianzhou black market of some kind?"

jing yuan nodded slowly. "notice the patterns of the past abductions. it's becoming quite obvious, even especially after what had happened with y/n. all women, all near her age, and all... hailing from troublesome families."

yan qing pondered for a moment, placing his knuckles underneath his chin as he closed his eyes.

"...general. what theories do you have then? for the reasoning of her abduction?"

"i'm assuming it'd have to do something with the disciples of sanctus medicus." jing yuan pursed his lips. "although, y/n's family did not have any history pertaining to... well, the cult itself. the father seemed too arrogant for any religious beliefs whatsoever, only wanting power."

"he didn't seem he was interested in eternal life, but money instead." yan qing added, looking towards the household that belonged to the l/n family.

it was a massive structure, built off of wealth itself. there were several floors to it, and each room was probably filled with a grand amount of fortune. both yan qing and jing yuan stood before the structure, with a singular cloud knight that stood behind the two.

"does miss y/n know... that we're here?" yan qing looked towards his leader, who responded with a shake of his head.

"i do not want her to be troubled by her family anymore... i doubt 'family' is a fitting term for what they are to her. i believe this part of her deserves to be torn away from who she is. after all, if these abductions are related to her father, then we might as well try to find evidence and stop them before something else occurs."

yan qing nodded. "yes, general."

the lieutenant glances back to the cloud knight, nodding towards him. "as we planned before, you will be coming with me. while the general speaks to the family."

the cloud knight saluted, "yes sir!"

when jing yuan, yan qing and the cloud knight entered the building, they were greeted by the servants of the l/n family. the head of the l/n family, y/n's father, had shown a false façade of a wonderful and kind father. he approaches the general, holding his hands with glee as yan qing and the cloud knight discreetly separated from the general, leaving him alone with the family.

"ah, general jing yuan! i am honored to see you again," y/n's father said as he held the man's hands, shaking them firmly, "why, i heard about the recent injury that my daughter has been inflicted by. that is such terrible news, i'm saddened by the fact i am unable to see my precious daughter, as i have been troubled by my work and..."

as he went off, jing yuan's kind smile never left him. he read through this man easily — what a liar.

"ah, it's alright that you can't visit her, my father," jing yuan speaks in a formal voice, bowing his head with his kind smile, "i understand your duties, for i am the general of xianzhou luofu, after all. i can relate to your priorities and the tasks you must face." jing yuan laughed with your father. "i apologize for showing up while you are busy with your tasks."

"oh, no no no! not at all," your father shook his head, "why, you actually came in perfect timing! i had prepared some lavender tea. my dearest wife had ordered some a while back and they actually came today."

jing yuan nodded. "i see. i would love to have some."

while jing yuan was occupied with your father, yan qing and the cloud knight were handling their own mission. they tracked down where the office was that belonged to your father while hiding from the wandering servants and your relatives before reaching to the door of the office. they entered, greeted by the smell of fresh, lavender tea.

"search his cabinets," yan qing said, "i'll search his desk."

"yes, sir."

yan qing proceeded make his way towards the office desk, looking through his paperwork. some of it wasn't even relevant to the mission as some paperwork was related to money, something about hiring new servants and...

"...?"

his eyes laid upon a letter that caught his eye, terms of it catching his attention immediately.

┈┈┈

...head of the l/n family. we will accept your beautiful daughter as a vessel to our beloved yaoshi. please do the following for us:

the vessel of yaoshi must be lifeless, unfortunately. yaoshi must not accompany a body with a soul already residing within. the body must be beheaded, or dead.

we look forward to your delivery,

disciples of the sanctus medicus.

┈┈┈

"lieutenant, sir! i have found something." the cloud knight speaks up, holding up several documents. each one were well hidden in between a bookshelf, and each one were labeled with "disciples of sanctus medicus".

yan qing pocketed the letter he found before approaching the cloud knight, grabbing the papers he held before looking towards his ally's discovery. more information about y/n... her weight, height, age, birthday... there was a look of disgust on yan qing's face as he pocketed it.

"... disgusting." he murmured. "we'll take these and report back to the general. let's leave, quickly."

"yes, sir!"

"it was so nice seeing you, jing yuan! please, visit us again." y/n's mother stated as she embraced her husband's arm, watching as the general waved goodbye, leaving on his own.

it didn't take long for the general to return to his headquarters, where he was greeted by the discovery of the connection of yaoshi's cult and y/n.

his hand was placed underneath his chin, eyes gazing upon each piece of evidence found.

"...sir." yan qing said to jing yuan. "you're hiding this from lady y/n... yes?"

"that is the plan. there is too much trauma she has already faced. we don't need to torment her more by bringing up her past... and its discoveries."

"even so," the lieutenant frowned, "i feel as if this is information that she needs to hear."

"...hm. for now, we hide this from her. later on when we arrest her father, we'll reveal the evidence and... tell her."

"yes, general."

[5blondeboytoy5]

About our past... Whitney x Reader

WC: 1452 CW: mentions of sexual assault, abuse forgiveness.

In which you and Whitney talk about your high school years...

The night is quiet. You finish up tucking your youngest into bed as you head to the kitchen to make lunches for tomorrow. The front door opens, and Whitney comes in, still in scrubs from the neurosurgery round he had today. He’s so close to finishing his residency, and you couldn’t be more proud.

Whitney is a far cry from the boy you met over fifteen years ago. If you had asked yourself at freshly eighteen who you thought Whitney was going to turn into, the top of his class in med school, future neurosurgeon, father of your children, and husband would not be it.

“G’evenin’ babe,” he mumbles, coming up behind you and kissing your head, “missed you today.” His arms snake around you, pulling you into a hug from behind. 

“You always miss me,” you giggle, setting down the sandwich knife and hugging his arms.

“Talking like you don’t count down the seconds until I get home,” Whitney teases, flicking your nose before letting go, “lemme go get clean, it’s been a day.” He leaves you with one last kiss on your cheek before hitting the shower.

You finish up your families’ lunches, Whitney still on your mind. Again, you never thought with what a delinquent he was in high school that he would ever get this far. Even more personally, you would’ve never imagined that the man who is singing bedtime songs to your kids and has your wedding photo as his lockscreen is the same man that flashed a busy street with you, made you use the boys’ toilets so you could never escape him, or made you suck him off in detention.

Or, more maliciously, pimped you out, threw your bag into the ocean for you to get raped by sailors, shoved pens in a kid’s ass just for looking at you, and wouldn’t refer to you as anything but slut. In his defense, everyone back home was doing similar things, but it’s much more personal when you remember the trauma that your own husband inflicted on you. Not to mention how smitten you were with him, and how much you did just go along with his antics just for his attention. Does that make his actions okay?

You and him seldom discuss it. Of course, you’ve both said you’re thankful to not be raising your babies back home, that you feel so much safer where you are now, that Whitney feels like this town is a much better influence on him, but you’re not sure he’s ever actually said he’s sorry for all the things he’s done to you. Of course, you did decide to marry him, start a family, a brand new life with him, and it’s not like his behavior hasn’t turned around completely, but some days you can’t help but remember who he used to be.

Walking into the bedroom, you get undressed and put on a tank top to sleep. On your skin is another display of Whitney’s dominance, the phrase Property of Whitney tattooed on your shoulder. You remember the day he dragged you to get it - the way the needle burned into your skin, how he laughed when you whined in pain, how he fucked your throat so hard after you couldn’t talk for three days. This is one of the more pleasant memories from that time, mostly because you were so enamored by him that you didn’t mind his name forever on your skin. Thank god you married him, or else it would’ve aged poorly.

The bathroom door opens, and out pops Whitney in gray sweats, drying off his hair in a towel. He sits down on the bed next to you, twirling your hair in his fingers and making small talk about your days. You must seem particularly out of it, as Whit backs away and gives you a puzzled look.

“Somethin’ the matter?” He asks, “you look down.”

You shrug. This is a conversation that's been over fifteen years in the making, do you bring it up now or just let bygones be bygones?

“I can help, promise. Anything for my girl.”

Your breath hitches. You don’t want to talk about it, making it seem like you’re holding onto the past. However, you can’t ignore you and Whitney’s shared history, even when it’s been so long. 

“Do you ever think about who we used to be?”

Whitney blinks. “Uh, sometimes. Why?” 

“I was just thinkin’ about back home today. All the things that happened in high school.” God, you don’t want to come out and tell him he was an abusive monster back then, but if he won’t own up to it on his own you might have to!

“Oh, yeah. That town is all kinds of fucked up. We went through a lot. I’m glad we’re here and safe now, especially for the kids’ sake.” He replies.

We? You think. I was the one that was assaulted on the daily, sometimes at your hand! You take a deep breath.

“Whit, I went through a lot because of you sometimes. Don’t act like you were such a victim too.”

Whitney looks angry for a second, and for that split second the old Whitney was back. The look on his face fades as he takes a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts.

“I don’t have an excuse or defense for that,” he mumbles, looking ashamed. “I guess I thought you liked it, thought it was okay. You said yes to everything I asked, so I guess I thought that was a yes to everything. You were so submissive, I didn’t see you as a human when we first met. Especially with the reputation you had, I just… didn’t make good choices.” You’re silent, not sure even what to say. Whitney grows uncomfortable, and keeps running his mouth.

“Nobody in that town was nice, remember Leighton? How cruel and perverted she was? I considered her my first for the longest time, until I realized if you don’t want it, it doesn’t count. I was a product of my environment at the time and did a lot of fucked up things. I’m glad you’re so forgiving, and saw something in me, and we’re all good now.” He leans in for a hug, clearly growing uncomfortable with the conversation. You don’t hug back.

“Whitney,” you fight back tears in your eyes, “how can I forgive you when you haven’t even said you’re sorry? When this is the only conversation we’ve had about this in all the years we’ve been together? God, I love you, and you’re a changed man, but I feel like we can’t act like the past never happened. It’s been the elephant in the room for our whole marriage.” Tears fall down your cheeks at this point. Whitney reaches up and wipes them away.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It wasn’t right, I was a stupid shitheaded kid back then. I’m sorry. I love you too.” He leans in for a hug again, enveloping you in his arms as you cry softly. You pull away, wiping your eyes.

“I know you were. Trust me, I remember.”

“What can I do to make it better?”

You stop. What can he do? You don’t want to leave him, or send him back to prison, but going forward like it’s all okay like you have been isn’t going to be okay either.

“Can we just acknowledge it more? Not pretend like it never happened?”

Whitney pauses. Obviously, he doesn’t always want to be reminded of what a terrible person he was as a teenager and young adult, and he’s right, part of it was the environment you and him grew up in. If you are raised in a town where rape and assault go unpunished, and sexual abuse is incredibly normalized, how could he have known how wrong it really was? He’s a victim too - Leighton was incredibly abusive, not to mention whoever else hurt him too.

“Yeah. We can. Of course. I owe you everything.” He envelops you in a hug again, the touchy bastard.It isn’t all okay, to act as if he never abused you is an impossible feat, and you’ve carried this burden for the longest time. But you know the kind of man he is now, and how much of an influence that city really had over him, not to mention his friends, and the adults in his life and the behavior they modeled. It’s a miracle he turned out how he did, and it’s a miracle you’re semi-well adjusted. You’re glad you have this Whitney, and not the Whitney you felt that you had to constantly appease. You hope he’s glad to have you too.