#(or at least he'd try not to. i mean hell even in Nothing. he's fighting back tears but he just brushes past his emotions after what by all

[the-acid-pear]

saw your post about characters suppressing trauma and stuff (and mentioning Dave specifically) so have some stuff that happened in the fic that relate to that:

- Dave would lie his Ass off if Jack ever asked about Henry potentially hurting him or upsetting him. that or he'd just straight up refuse to answer.

- related to the above point, Dave has a scar from The Wrench Incident. Jack asked about it (and told Dave that he didn't have to answer if he didn't want to), and Dave half lied and said it was from "an accident with a wrench."

- Dave and Jack would "jokingly" flirt with each other quite often. it quite literally took Jack Kissing His Hand and him getting Really Flustered from that for Dave to realize that A) he was Not straight and B) that Jack might also have feelings for him.

for context, Jack had been working there since mid-to-late February and this happened Three Days Before Dee Was Murdered.

- the closest thing even Resembling a panic attack that Dave has had so far has been him getting overwhelmed and having a breakdown in a closet because, in no particular order,

he's assisted with the murders of three children, having killed one Directly

one of those kids was His Crush's Sister, who he REALLY didn't want to help kill

Henry KNEW Jack was dead for two days, and didn't mention it to Dave Once, and when he Did finally bring it up to Dave, it was only really in passing

Dee has made it Abundantly clear that she wants to kill both of them

and finally:

Henry has been Insistent that This Bullshit (killing kids) is something they Need to do, and seems adamant that Dave Wants This, despite how much Dave clearly Does Not want this.

so. Dave’s not having a good time right now in the fic

- dogboyjackkennedy

THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT THAT'S MY MISERABLE AND SOPPING WET BABYGIRL YEAHAHGVB OT2 ‼️‼️‼️ Losing SO hard fr.

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining Ghost telling you that he'll kill anyone you decide to sleep with that isn't him. And, of course, when Soap finds out he's got a bit of a death wish.

Like, you and Simon are just friends with benefits. He drops by your place whenever he gets a leave and that's it. No strings attached. Just something quick to fill the time. At least, that's the way it'd always been.

"If you fuck anyone else m' a kill 'im."

It's hard to take him seriously when he's got you face down on floor with your ass up in the air. You groan and try to push your hips back against him. He grabs you by the scruff of your neck and cranes your head back. You whine at the discomfort but he doesn't stop. He mutters the threat into your ear again before finally letting you go.

You cum harder than you'd like to admit. But when you finally come back down to Earth, you start to wonder. You try to ask him about it but he says nothing. Whatever this is - it's supposed to be no strings attached. You're allowed to see other people. You're allowed to fuck other people.

But you've never known Simon to be anything other than a man of his word. His threat is more than likely serious. You don't know much about his background other than he's military and that he's sustained heavy trauma over the years. So, you find that you don't really want to try him.

It's easy for awhile. Simon always leaves you satiated. But, as weeks turn into months you start to feel your skin crawl. You would've already called up your other friends with benefits by now. Instead, you'd blocked them all that first week he'd left.

You try to ignore your hunger, but it festers into a deep seated need none of your toys can rid you of. You get a call from Simon one night after a fruitless tryst with your vibrator. He sounds to be in better spirits after you whine about how much you miss him. You don't even realize how you sound until the words are already out of your mouth.

"Johnny's gonna drop by t' check in on you, love." Ghost hums contentedly. "Show 'im a good time."

He hangs up.

What does he mean by that? You'd met Johnny numerous times before. You'd flirted and enjoyed yourself in his presence but...he's Simon's best friend. Show him a good time? Does he want you to screw him? But...he said he'd kill anyone you sleep with?

You try to keep your resolve when Johnny drops by later that evening. He's his usual charming self - touchy and too comfortable. You voice to him your unease, but he brushes it off with more shameless flirting over your homemade dinner. After dinner, he practically throws you up onto the kitchen table. You kick and push at his chest with outstretched arms. Whatever this is can't happen.

"No! Johnny, he'll kill you." You squawk, pushing at his jaw, trying to keep his lips off of you.

"He wouldn't dare!" He laughs as he forces off your panties with impatient hands.

He flips you over on your stomach, forces your shirt and bra off. He humps desperately against you, slipping his cock out of his jeans. He smells of sweat and musk - as if he'd run straight to your flat after receiving Simon's call.

"Johnny, please." You try to reason with him. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"Hurt? Simon'd never hurt me, love." He hums, tweaking one of your nipples with one hand while he eases open your folds with the other.

"He loves me just as much as he loves you! Besides-"

Johnny laps a long stripe from your collarbone, up across your neck and chin, before stopping to press a firm kiss directly to your lips. You shy away at first, but it isn't but a moment longer before you melt into him. It's been so long...and Johnny is willing to take the risk.

"If he did try to kill me it'd sure be one hell of a fight." He smirks, pressing himself deep inside of you. You whine, tears pricking in your eyes as he practically splits you open with how thick he really is.

"I think I could take 'im nowadays. Aye know all his secrets!"

[dolicekiss]

Hi I'm not sure if you're taking requests (i don't know how the request work so sorry)

Could u write a one-shot, where Reader and Duncan have a mission and them go to the place but before do the work, they arrive at a hotel and them only rent a room with one bed (obviously) Duncan tells her that he'll take the bed and she'll sleep on the floor, then he go to take a shower and she doesn't care about his request and takes the bed, Duncan comes out and them start to fight because she didn't listen him, until she suggests that both take the bed (Duncan don't like the idea but don't decline and just does it) after a while she stars to tempt him at first he's angry bout all the situation, but the moment takes another path and u alr know (smut) if u r comfortable with ofc. (And sorry my english isn't great sorry for the type errors)

This is an idea of one chat with a bot of c.ia but the bots r not as good as a writer <3

♡: anon i know about this bot and i have done some freaky stuff w it 🤭 i love this request

Contumacious

PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Bratty!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties), bratty reader, dominant duncan, tension, oral (male receiving), duncan calls reader ‘little girl’, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, biting, slight blood, degrading, talkative duncan, slight (very minor) fluff at the end.

SYNOPSIS: On a mission, Duncan decides to stay at a hotel room for further planning and to rest. But when he orders you to take the floor and decides to stake his claim over the bed, things become heated between the two of you.

Duncan didn't expect to see a single bed in the room when he stormed in, along with you, who carried your own bag of basic necessities.

Frustration was as clear as water on his rough features when he realized he'd have to sacrifice a good night's sleep if he were to allow you slumber along him.

So he didn't sacrifice shit.

The man dropped his duffle bag over the bed, in a way branding it as his. “I get the bed, you get the floor.”

You couldn't even oppose because he'd already left for the bathroom, assuming to take a shower. Your lips formed a frown, brows furrowing. Just who did Duncan Vizla think he was? You both were equals on this mission, sent by Damucles to strike down a Mexican mob boss.

Duncan being older didn't mean he could do as he wished. You stood firm on give respect in order to receive it, age had nothing to do with it. You also placed your bag on the bed and slipped off your boots, sprawling across it.

If you had to take the bed forcefully, then so be it.

When Duncan was finished with his shower and came out, he was the least bit pleased with the sight afore him. You on your stomach, laying on the bed, feet up in the air and oscillating.

His bushy eyebrows scrunched in irritation. The man stormed towards you, standing right in front of you and you lifted your gaze up fron the pistol in your hands. Only to acknowledge him before going back to toying with the weapon in your hands.

That only worked to raise his anger more.

“I told you the bed is mine. Get your little ass off it.” You lifted your head, to face him and then slid off the bed. Now standing right in front of him — gaze unwavering and posture strong. Duncan knew you were one hell of a stubborn brat. He'd come across you before and he hated every bit of it.

You placed your hand on your hip.

A pose that struck him with a lash of irritation.

“It is a big bed and who are you to claim it first? Just because you're old, you think you can come in here and order me around?” Duncan’s eyes flared up. Nostrils expanding and the anger on his face was like embers swirling in lava.

He took a step forward. “Listen here, little girl. I might be old but you could never reach the amount of missions I have been successful at, nor do you know real struggle. Try sleeping in the Siberian Winds with no clothes, not a single thread to cover your damn body.”

You couldn't believe it.

He was rubbing his life experiences in your face as if he didn't himself chose to work for Damocles.

He became the black kaiser because he wanted to.

In the heat of the prickling anger, you also stepped forward. Your chest brushing against his. “You chose that for yourself but I won't let you choose the bed. Either we both sleep on it together or you take the fucking floor. There's no way in hell I'm sleeping on the floor.”

Duncan groaned.

He knew of the abundance stubbornness you possessed. There was no way you would back out, knowing that the way you got yourself snuck into his mission was by being completely adamant and demanding money if not allowed in.

But he too couldn't retreat, as his pride was on the line. “I could easily throw you on the floor, little girl.”

You snickered. “I'd like to see you try.”

Duncan stared at you. Drinking in your petite form and how small you were in comparison to him. Primal and dark was what stirred within the base of his abdomen when his mind finally grasped on how pathetic you were. Indeed you were a trained killer, amazing at martial arts too but Duncan knew against him you stood no chance.

Due to the diligence of your work and mission, Duncan never really focused on your features.

Your challenge nearly caused him to pick you up and toss you on the damn floor. Duncan raised his hand — fingers opening to wrap around your throat. The inside of his fingers brushed across your throat and you swallowed tightly, waiting for him to act out his aggression.

Duncan’s hand fell.

Your brow raised at his defeat. “Fine but you better keep at your side. If I see a damn leg or arm of yours on my side, you best believe I'm choppin’ it off.”

You dismissed him with your hand and Duncan’s hand formed into a fist. He really wanted to teach you a lesson. Hating how you paraded around Damocles like you were the only one, an egoistic but skilled assasian.

Just for the sake of the mission, Duncan let it go.

He settled on the bed on one side and watched you take out your own clothes from the duffle bag, making your way to the bathroom. In your hand were some panties and a loose, button up shirt. It was what you'd managed to pack in a hurry when you were told about your mission with Duncan.

Honestly, you sort of looked up to him.

No one was as heavily respected in Damocles as he was.

The Black Kaiser.

Aim perfect and sharp. He knew so many ways to discard the enemy and you'd only witnessed a few of them on this mission. It filled you with unbridled excitement when you'd finally landed yourself with him.

Your shower was relaxing. Warm water soothing all your strained muscles — the combat sure taking its toll on you. Slow hands caressing the skin, ridding of it any dirt that lingered. After done shampooing your hair and washing your body, you dried yourself and changed into your clothes.

The outfit was sultry to say the least but you knew Duncan was a man who would never find you attractive.

You knew of his irritation and annoyance aimed at you. It was honestly adorable at times how he got pissed, finding joy in pushing at his buttons.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Duncan’s head snapped into your direction and his expression hardened. There you sauntered towards the bed with bare thighs and plush breasts peeking out from within the confines of your shirt.

He swallowed, his adjustment of himself not slipping past you.

You laid down on the bed and let out a sigh, finally finding peace. A good night’s rest was surely needed and this bed could provide it all. As you shifted to find a comfortable position, your shirt rose up in the friction exposing the black lining of your panties.

Duncan caught a glimpse of it.

His eyes darkening.

“Could've worn something warmer.” Duncan said, not looking at you. A scowl made its way across your face as you sat up, body strength on your palms. Leaning forward made your loose shirt fall by your sides, cleavage revealed.

“You got a problem with everything, old man.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Is that your only retort? Calling me old?” He snapped, staring at you. For a moment his gaze lingered to your lips and then back up to your face. Eyes filled to the brim with frustration and something – dark too. Lust or maybe anger.

“Are you not old? I bet you can't even get it up anymore.” You chuckled and that seemed to have crossed the line. Duncan reached for you, hand entangling in your hair. You felt him tug on the roots and pull you closer, face only a mere inches away from yours.

Your breath hitched.

Fighting him right now could get really dirty and you wanted to see how far Duncan was willing to go. His action only working to entice you. “You really should watch your damn mouth, little girl. I don't take nicely to such disrespect.”

You let out a chuckle. “Accept it. You cannot get it up, old man.”

Duncan’s fist tightened, nostrils flaring at your impolite words. You stared at him, your tongue slithering out like an enticing snake and running across the plump of your lips in an attempt to seduce him. “Or can you? I've heard older men fuck better. Is that true, Duncan?”

Duncan growled.

He tugged you down, to between his legs. Duncan nuzzled your face against the tent in his trousers. His bulge protruding as he shoved your face against it. “Does that look like I can't get it up, little girl?”

You shook your head slowly, hands hastily moving to pull down his trousers, paired with his briefs. His cock sprung out, nearly hitting you in the face and a soft gasp escaped your lips. It was big — fucking massive and you hadn't expected a man of Duncan's age to have such a big cock. Precum sheened over his tip.

It was thick and you knew the pain of the stretch inside you would be delicious. Veins ran from its base, disappearing underneath the pink tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, fingers gently wrapping around the girth.

A sweet hiss fell from Duncan’s lips.

You parted your lips and pushed out your tongue, running it in little licks over his tip, managing to taste his salty precum. Duncan’s breath grew heavier along each lick — chest moving in a slow rhythm.

His fingers still drowned in your hair. Duncan tugged harder, an indication for you to pick up. So you did, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking it in, taking his fat cock all the way into your tight mouth until it had fully disappeared. You could feel it slip past the little uvula hanging in the air of your mouth, the warm flesh feeling like embers over your tongue.

“Jesus, you're pretty good at taking a cock.”

A giggle almost slipped — you attempted to breath through your nose and salvated around his throbbing dick. Your eyes met Duncan’s drowsy ones and as you whimpered, the vibrations from your throat shot straight through his abdomen.

His hands guided down your head furthermore, burying your nose into his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

Duncan pulled you up, only to slam his cock back inside your mouth. A repetitive action, his thighs shaking and flexing whenever the wetness and constriction of your throat welcomed him. Panting like a hungry beast, he fucked himself into your mouth.

Hips snapping up in desperate thrusts to gain his release.

“Good little girl. This is what your mouth is made for—what it's supposed to do.” He grunted when your struggles began in the form of small hands lightly punching at his thick thighs. “You're only a cocksucking little bitch.”

Tears stung your eyes from how horribly you gagged all over him. His tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat while moaning out loud. Divulging his pleasure to the people outside the hotel room.

Duncan loved the way you gagged around his cock. Tears sitting prettily in your beautiful eyes and he couldn't help but feel himself come near at the sight of you, this weak and pathetic underneath him. If he'd known sharing a bed would lead to this, the man would've given up in one single breath.

“Fuck—fuck. I'm close, I'm so fuckin’ close, my little girl. Keep suckin’ my cock like that, like the filthy bitch you are.” Duncan was vocal.

That was for sure and you enjoyed every bit of it.

After fucking your mouth for quite some time, Duncan finally shot loads of warm fluid down your throat. You struggled, kicking and thrashing everywhere but he didn't let go. He only continued to ride out his orgasm, feeling his own cock lubing up in the process of fucking his cum down your throat.

When he let you go, you promptly pulled back with a loud gasp. A sharp intake of oxygen. Cum and saliva dribbling in rivulets down your chin, tears wetting your cheeks. Duncan watched as your tits rose up and down, bouncing down slightly whenever you dragged in air.

Your eyes widened when you saw how Duncan’s soft cock suddenly became hard again, rising up. Curved and strong — tip caressing his abdomen. It was embarrassing for you because you'd called him out for not being able to get it up, here he was. In his late fifties, ready to fuck you dumb.

“Fuck you lookin’ at? Hop on.”

Your pussy throbbed. An insatiable ache that only his delicious cock could satisfy. You tossed one leg over his waist, while holding his cock with your hand. Aligning it at your hole, you finally sunk down on it. Duncan and you groaned in unison.

Feeling his cock enter you was such an indecipherable feeling. He filled you all the way, his tip reaching your womb almost. You placed both your palms over his chest, running your nails into the grey and black hair on his chest. Your lips parted, eyes rolled as you fully consumed him.

“Such a hungry fuckin’ pussy you've got. Taking me all the way in.” Duncan raised his hand and smacked your ass. “Cmon, move now.”

You obliged — beginning to grind your hips. In a slow back and forth rhythm. Duncan’s head was thrown back, pressed into the headboard while both his hands settled at your hips. Helping you grind down on his cock. You didn't even want to move, that's how much you fucking relished in him filling you up but then he lifted you, slamming you back down on his cock.

“Yeah, just like that.” He growled when you started to slide up and down. Hopping like a damn bunny in heat, feeling his veiny thick cock rub at your sensitive walls. Your whines were loud and prominent through the room as you held tightly onto his broad shoulders.

Lips agape and hair wet from the shower, it made you appear ten times prettier than you were. Duncan’s cock only hardened more, if possible inside you. The tremor in your whole frame was slowly becoming known to him and he scoffed, a breathty grunt leaving his lips. “Can't even fuck yourself on my cock and you have the audacity to speak to me with disrespect.”

“I'm sorry,” came a whimper from you. Nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, dragging them down into tiny slits.

Duncan helped you ride him, both his hands tugging at the flesh of your rear. He drove himself into you, in and out, in a fast rhythm. It was all too hot. Your body felt like it was boiling up and Duncan’s hands moved up to hold your breasts, thumbs flicking the nipples.

Dark brows furrowed and lips fallen apart, he let out aggressive grunts like some hounddog that couldn't have enough of you. “Pathetic whore. Jus’ a pathetic little whore who needed to be fucked. If—fuck,” he grunted, balls throbbing. “If you craved a cock this badly, you could've said so.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and walls gripped him like a vice. Duncan leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin hard enough to draw blood. He continued making you ride him, loving the way your tits bounced in his hands. A feeling driving him delirious.

The sound of skin against skin grew.

A languorous heat spread in your lower stomach. An indicator of your upcoming orgasm. Duncan’s hands kept playing with your soft mounds — his teeth littering bite marks at where your neck and shoulder became one and the way his hammered his cock inside your cunt was enough to push you over the edge.

Your arms flew to his shoulders, holding him tightly. “Duncan, ‘m gonna cum. ‘m so close, please.”

He looked up at you, loving the warmth you produced when you'd clung onto him like a koala to a tree. He pressed his lips over yours, something he himself was in shock at. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, sucking on it and as the kiss warmed, so did your cunt.

Duncan groaned as you slammed down on his cock repeatedly. A strong and soul chilling orgasm tearing through you. Eyes rolling back to your head and whimpers of sensitivity echoing in the room. He held you tightly as you came, enjoying how your little frame suffered from convulsions under his hold.

Duncan didn't give you a chance to even register your climax. He'd already began thrusting up your cunt, arms wrapped around your waist in a bone crushing hold. “Wait—wait! I still— oh my god.”

He didn't let you relax.

After all he too needed to cum.

Duncan could feel the throbbing sensation in his balls and the pulsating of his fat cock inside you. With a few, harsh strokes delivered inside your pussy, he released himself and your head buried in his neck from the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hot cum shot out, rope by rope, decorating the gummy walls of your pussy.

You could feel all of it.

Heightened sensitivity.

Your body went limp over his, leisurely dropping and Duncan held you. Both of you panted like wild animals who'd just got done finishing their preys. Your breathing was uneven and your throat was parched. Duncan heaved out, his low groans sending waves of sparks to your aching cunt again.

Thick fingers running up and down your bare back, with his other hand he caressed your hair. He wasn't rough when it came to sex but at times he felt like destroying your cunt whenever you'd speak to him in that stuck up, vicious little tone.

Duncan’s hand that played with your hair suddenly tightened, fingers pulling on the soft locks and you whimpered.

You were thrown off his lap on the bed. Appalled at his actions, you turned to look at him but Duncan only pressed your head further into the bed with his large hand. His other hand pulled your lower body, bending your knees.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You gasped out, the question coming out muffled.

Duncan let out a chuckle. “You thought we were done, hm? There ain't no way we're done with one round, little girl.”

You couldn't even resist as Duncan sunk his cock into you. Back arching and spine curving, a muffled whine of need and satisfaction echoing. He held you down as he thoroughly fucked you, his hips colliding with yours. Balls hitting the swollen stripe of your cunt.

“Look at you.” His bated breath increased your libido, as you were also speechless at his. Duncan was still ready to go on meanwhile you were struggling with staying still. Tired and drained from all his harsh strokes.

His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you up to his chest, locking you firmly. Duncan pulled out then pushed right back into you, his tip reaching your womb. A small bulge forming on your stomach everytime he slammed back into you. Tears of overstimulation dropped like pearls on your face and Duncan moaned in your ear.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He praised.

Your walls clenched.

Duncan hissed and felt his strokes become steady, dragging across your spongy walls to feel them. Then he climaxed inside you, filling you up again once more. This time his cum dripped out of you, making a mess on his own cock and your thighs. Pussy glistening from the slick, cum and your own climax.

Duncan pulled out and pushed you back down on the bed.

He also collapsed next to you.

Chest rising up and down, breath a broken rhythm. You sniffled into the pillows, thighs shivering the overstimulation you'd suffered at the hands of Duncan. He wasn't as cruel as you'd depicted him to be. Duncan reached for you, pulling you closer to him and wrapping an arm around your waist.

His large arm covering the expanse of your chest.

“Sorry, little girl. You piss me off a lot.” He whispered and you flipped to face him, burying your face in his chest. “And I'll continue to piss you off.”

Despite the fact that he'd pretty much blown your back out twice, you still held on to your defiant traits. He let out a laugh, reaching over to grab a cigarette and light it up.

Dragging in a smoke, he brought the cigarette to your lips and your parted them, allowing him to settle it between them. You pursued his actions and released the smoke through your nostrils.

��That feels good.”

Duncan smiled. “Better than my cock?”

“Oh shut up.”

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 5: The Cabin: Day 1 (pt.2)

Summary: Soap being gone for so long has you extremely worried. When he finally shows, you have an exchange of words, and Soap learns that you are human after all.

Word Count: 4,000

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, angst, slight panic attack, Soap is still mean?, suggestive language, partial nudity 

A/N: I’m ahead in writing by two characters, but expect weekly updates! Let me know how you’re liking it so far! Also comment some possible scenes you might want to see, sometimes I include them! Enjoy ~

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 5

The cabin, which had no electricity, was dark now. The sun was setting over the lake, which was beautiful, but you didn't have it in you to enjoy it right now. All you could was pace in the kitchen, the only light and source of heat coming from the embers in the wood stove from when you made food.

Soap was gone. He'd been gone all day. You didn't know what time it was when he left, but the sun had been high in the sky and now it was setting. Your mine was racing.

What if he had gotten hurt and couldn't get back? What if a bear or something killed him? Were there even bears where you are? What if-

There was a groaning sound as the cabin door opened. You gazed snapped over to the door right as Soap was walking through it. He looked tired, but that was to be expected. You don't know where he went or what he did, but you know he hasn't eaten. Unless he ate some berries or something during his time in the woods, but you doubted it.

A mix of emotions hit you as you look at him. Anger at him for being gone for so long, relief that he was back, and conflicted feelings when you feel your eye start to burn with tears. Truth was, you did care about Soap to some extent, and him not coming back after an hour or two scared the hell out of you.

Despite your current state, and after everything that happened this morning, you wanted to keep your voice calm when speaking to him. You didn't want to yell, start another fight, or add more stress. However, the moment you open your mouth, anger burns in your chest like lit gasoline. Knowing you'll combust if you try to speak, you pause, hoping he'll speak first, and stay in your spot in the middle of the kitchen.

Soap's eyes were down as he walks in, not even acknowledging you. His lips were tightly pursed shut, and his body language was tense. He doesn't even spare you a single glance as he makes his way to the where you'd carefully placed all your food rations.

Taking a deep breath, you try to swallow the anger and address him.

"Where have you been?" Your voice shook the slightest bit, but you managed to keep it fairly steady.

Soap doesn't respond. You hear a faint annoyed sigh from him, but that's it. Your anger is boiling over at this point. You tried to ask nice, tried to be calm, but he was going to give you the silent treatment? Act like nothing had happened and like he hadn't made you worried sick for at least the last four hours?

"Soap, where the hell have you been?!" You were shouting now, and your raised voice finally makes Soap's gaze shift over to you. He looks you over a bit before rolling his eyes, returning to flipping through MREs packets to find a meal he wants.

"Don't fucking ignore me, Soap! You can't just leave and be gone for hours like that!"

"Fuck off, States." He grumbles, continuing his search for food. You stare at his back for a long moment, a bit taken back by his response. He really thought it was fine to go out into the woods for hours? To just leave you alone in the middle of the woods wondering if he was ok? Could he really not see how much distress he'd caused you by being gone? Or did he just not care?

You'd been worried about him.

Your chest tightens a bit, hands clenching into fists at your sides. You hated Soap with every fiber of your being, yet you worried when he was gone. You hated that you felt this way about him. You hated that he made you feel this way and now he was acting like it wasn't a big deal.

"Fuck off, States..."

"Don't tell me to fuck off! What gives you the right to leave like that? I didn't know if you were coming back or not." He just keeps ignoring you, his shoulders tense, and you snap. "John! Fucking turn around and answer me!"

That finally gets his attention. He looks back at you, jaw clenched tightly. "What have I told you about calling me that!?" He shouts at you, but you ignore him.

"Can you just listen to me!? I was worried about you, you stupid fucking idiot!" You shout at him, feeling your breath hitch a bit as a sob boils in your throat. You couldn't stop it. Tears started to run down your cheeks. You tried to brush them away, but they just kept coming.

"I sat here for hours! I didn't know where you were. I went outside, and I looked, and looked for you, and I couldn't find you. I thought you got hurt, or-or killed, or a bear got you, or you-you got lost. I didn't know if you were coming back, and I was scared that you weren't going to, and I didn't know what to do!"

You're sobbing by the end of your outburst, giving up on wiping tears away or keeping the sobs down. The stress of the day had gotten to you, and Soap leaving had been the final thing to make you break down. Now you just stood in front of this man that you hated, feeling scared that he'd died while he was gone, and sobbing uncontrollably into your hands.

Soap stood there frozen as he watches you. He'd never seen you cry before. No matter how bad the fights got, you never cried. Or at least not in front of him. He didn't really know what to do, but you were really upset. You're starting to hyperventilate, and he had to admit, he was getting a little worried.

"States, just calm down, lass."  He says in the most gentle voice he's ever used when talking to you. "Stop crying, you're fucking up your breathing." His voice is still gentle, and there's a tinge of worry behind his words as he stays frozen in place.

You try to stop, you really do, cause crying in front of Soap isn't something you like doing, but you can't stop. Now that the wall has been busted down, the water wasn't going to stop until the pressure had been released.

Soap finally moves when you can't seem to stop and turns to one of the shelves behind him to grab a cantina. He unscrews the top and takes your hands, wrapping them around the bottle and then brings it up to your lips. "Here, lass, drink some water. Take some deep breaths for me too, aye?" His hand pressed into your upper back, just steadily remaining there for support.

You do as he says, trying to take a few small sips and wiping at your eyes again. It helps a little, enough to settle you down a bit. You meet Soap's eyes, still sniffling and hiccuping softly. He still had his hand on your back, but he removes it to take the cantina back when you're done.

"I was worried about you..." You repeat, this time in more of a whisper as he puts the bottle back on the shelf.

Soap sighs softly and looks away, down towards the floor. You start to sniffle again, which makes him look at you once more. "Hey now, don't start that again."

"I'm not trying to. I can't help it. I was scared." You defend yourself, breath stuttering slightly.

"Look States, I... I'm sorry. Ok? I didn't mean to make you worry."

You're shocked. Absolutely in pure shock that this man is apologizing to you. He's never apologized to you for anything, and the thing is, he looks genuinely sorry. You stare at him for a long moment, making him uncomfortable.

"Don't look at me like that." He shifts nervously in place, a frown on his features.

You shake your head a bit, snapping yourself out of your state of shock. "Sorry, I've just never... I-I'm glad you're back." You rub your arm nervously. "Please don't.. please don't ever do something like that again."

"I won't." He says simply. "Stop all your crying now, aye? Go wash your face."

Normally you would have snapped at him for telling you what to do, but he's still talking to you softly. Like he's telling you to do something to make you feel better, not just to belittle you. So you nod and make to grab the flashlight to walk out to the pond. Before you get to the door though, he's calling out to you.

"Aye, States. Are you hungry? I'm going to make some food. You want some?"

You look back to him, surprised that he offered. You'd eaten a few hours ago, but you hardly had anything all day. Plus all that worrying you'd done had worked up quite an appetite. "Yeah... That'd be nice." You agree, getting a nod from him as he turns back to picking something from the cabinet.

"Alright. Go wash up. I'll get started." He says, his back to you now. You hesitate a moment more before stepping outside into the cool air.

It's quiet outside, aside from some frogs and an owl. The fresh air feels nice and helps to settle any remaining stress you had. You hear Soap inside, putting more wood onto the fire to get the oven going. It didn't seem real what just happened. You weren't quite sure what to make of any of it.

Sighing softly, trying to push everything that happened today behind you for now, you click on the flashlight and head towards the water. The sun has gone down and the moon is casting a soft light on the water's surface. Once you reach the edge, you scoop some water into your hands and splash it over your face, letting the icy water soothe your puffy cheeks. It feels nice despite the bite it has from the cold. It's just what you need.

Realizing you don't have a towel or anything to dry your face with, you end up just gently patting your face dry with your shirt. You'd be changing for bed soon anyway. You were regretting, however, packing your shorts and an oversized teeshirt to wear as pajamas. They weren't going to be very warm, and despite what you hoped was a new development in your relationship with Soap, you still were not fond of him seeing you in something like that.

The thought of your pajamas made you remember your lack of a bedroll. Maybe you should apologize to Soap for getting so upset with him earlier. It was technically your responsibility to keep track of it, and you doubted Soap would purposely do something like that to you. He was mean, but you didn't think he was that mean. Plus he had just apologized to you. Maybe you should return the favor. Extend the olive branch.

That was going to be hard though...

You sigh softly and get up, heading back into the cabin. Soap managed to get the fire going and now had a pot of what looked to be beans on the stovetop. He'd also laid out two pieces of bread on your plates. You stayed by the door, trying to warm your hands a bit as you watched him stir the pot. After a few seconds, he breaks the silence.

"Feeling better?" He asks, eyes focused on the food he was preparing.

"Yeah." You answer, yelling at yourself to just get the apology out. It was stuck though. Apologizes weren't really your strong suit. Plus making them to someone you had a bad rivalry with made it all that much harder. Instead, you find yourself clearing your throat and changing the topic.

"Uh... So I was thinking maybe we should make a few rules. For both of us to follow." You watch him for his reaction, not sure what you were going to get.

Soap surprisingly nods. "Sure. What were you thinking?" He asks, still not looking at you.

"Well... Maybe rule one should be that we can't go off into the woods alone for more than an hour? Just for safety." You start, which is met with silence. "If we need to go somewhere to cool down, maybe we go to the lake. Or somewhere else close by. I just don't want to have to go looking for you if I need you."

"Sure." Soap finally answers. "I can do that. Anything else?"

You think for a moment, not fully prepared to come up with all the rules by yourself at that very second. "Maybe just small things. Like we can alternate who cooks every night. Let me know before you go bathe. Don't leave dirty clothes or food lying around. Stuff like that." You shrug, watching as steam begins to rise off the pot of beans.

Soap stops stirring them and bangs the spoon on the side of the pan a few times. "That sounds reasonable." He agrees, surprising you by how accepting of this he was. "Come get what you want. I'll eat the rest." He tells you, standing out of the way so you can scoop the beans onto your plate.

You pick up your plate that he'd laid out for you and get your spoon, looking at him before looking down at the beans in the pot. You must have hesitated too long because he's rolling his eyes at you a moment later.

"Come on, I didn't poison them or anything." He grumbles, bits of the old Soap coming back.

"Well, I wasn't thinking that until you said something." You attempt to joke, though you aren't sure if Soap thought it was funny or not. He let out a huff, which might have been a laugh, but you're not sure.

"Just get your beans. I'm starving." He mumbles.

"Yes, sir." You say, getting reminded that he hadn't eaten all day. You didn't want a hangry Soap on your hands.

As you scoop up what you wanted, a very small portion so that he can have more, you hear him actually laugh. It's not a full belly laugh, but he does let out a small, single, chuckle.

"Now that's something I could get used to you saying." He mutters, making you roll your eyes this time. Though for once you aren't really annoyed.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." You tell him, setting your plate on the small table in the kitchen and sitting down.

You wait as he dumps the rest out onto his plate. You fully plan on sitting and eating with him. Sure, it still felt like you were walking on eggshells a bit around him, but this was by far the most civil you'd ever been with him. Once he's done scooping everything out onto his plate though, he's heading towards the bedroom without another word.

"Where are you eating?" You ask him when he walks past the available chair.

"On my cot." He answers, pushing the door open and shutting it behind him without another word.

You feel stupid now thinking that Soap was going to sit and eat with you. You don't know why you'd been expecting him to, but, now that he wasn't, it hurt a little bit...

Things probably hadn't actually changed. He was just being a littler nicer because he saw you cry. You stare down at your food, feeling a lot less hungry now, but you eat anyway. No point in wasting it.

Once your plate had been cleaned off the best you could, you set it on one of the shelves, planning on cleaning it tomorrow morning. You then make your way to the bedroom door and knock softly. You don't get a response, and if you listen really closely, you can hear gentle snores.

Opening the door carefully, you see that Soap had fallen asleep. His plate was on the floor next to his cot, scrapped clean. So much for your rule of keeping a tidy space. But you'd let it pass this time since it had been a long day.

Running a hand over your face, you step inside and pick his plate up, carrying it out to the kitchen. You set it alongside yours on the shelf and then you go back to the bedroom to grab your pajamas. You opted to change in the kitchen, just in case Soap woke up, and did so in record time. He was still asleep though when you came back in. However, the second you sat on your cot, making it squeak loudly, he woke up.

"Ah, that damned bed of yours." He grumbles, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"You were the one who stuck me with this bed." You remind him, making him grumble as he sat up. He places his feet on the floor, looking to the ground.

"Where's my-" he starts, but you already know what he's going to ask about.

"I already put it on the shelf for tomorrow." You tell him.

"Oh. Alright then." He mutters, standing up. He starts to take his shirt off, which had you blushing and raising your brows at him. Then he's taking his pants off, which instantly makes you cover your eyes.

"Oh my God! Don't change in here! I don't want to see you naked!" You yell at him, which has him rolling his eyes at you.

"Oh haud yer wheesht! I'm not getting naked! I sleep in my underwear."

You can hear the sound of his pants being pulled down, and you press your hands more firmly against your eyes. "I don't want to see you in your underwear either!"

"Well I didn't think we'd be sharing a room! I didn't pack pajamas!" He exclaims. "Besides, you're not even wearing pants!"

That made you uncover your eyes, your cheeks burning. "I'm wearing shorts!" You pull your shirt up enough for him to see the shorts you had underneath, and also get an eyeful of Soap in nothing but his underwear. He's in army green boxer briefs, which made his ass and what he was packing in the front look... Not too bad.

"That's practically underwear you're wearing." He claims. "Just think of these as shorts!" He balls his clothes up and tosses them into the suitcase with his clean and still unpacked clothes.

"Those are not shorts! I can see every..."

You trail off, not really wanting to admit that you can see the outline of his dick. You don’t want him to know that you looked. In your defense, it was pretty prominent and obvious feature. You know he isn't even... worked up... yet you can still clearly see it. You didn’t have to stare directly at it to see it.

"Just fucking get into your bed." You say instead, but by the look on Soap's face, he knew exactly what you were going to say.

"No, no, go on. Out with it." He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at you expectantly.

"Soap, I swear!" You're looking straight ahead, holding up your hand to shield your peripheral vision from him.

"If you like something you see, you can just tell me." He continues to egg you on, making you all the more frustrated with him.

"I'm gonna punch you in the thing I see if you don't get it over to your cot!" You threaten, making him finally leave you alone. He holds his hands up in mock surrender as he goes to his cot.

"Alright fine. Just do me a favor and don't squeak that damn cot of yours all night." He grumbles, getting onto his cot and into his sleeping roll. He rolls onto his side, back facing you.

You finally look over at him once he's laying down and then settle onto your own cot. You lay down on your back, staring up the ceiling and feeling thankful for the chilly air as it cools down your reddened cheeks.

Very quickly though, despite the wood furnace next to you, your arms and legs start to get cold. You tuck up into a ball, cot squeaking while you move, but it's not a position you were going to be able to maintain all night. After only five minutes your legs were cramping up, and you wanted to stretch out again, which caused more obnoxious squeaking.

You keep shifting like this, trying to find the best position to keep yourself warm. It doesn't take long for Soap to let out an annoyed groan.

"States, I swear." He grumbles.

"Sorry, I'm cold." You grumble right back, tucking your legs back up again.

It's silent for a little bit as you try to keep from moving around. You're shivering just slightly, but it wasn't a violent shiver by any means. Sleep was going to be difficult though. You sigh softly, your exhale a little shaky.

"Fucking hell." You hear Soap curse, followed by the sounds of him rustling around.

You'd been lying with your back to him, so you look over your shoulder as he gets up. It was hard to see exactly what he was doing. Despite his bed only being a few feet away from yours, it was dark over in his little corner, and his back was to you. The distinct sound of him unzipping his sleeping roll can be heard though.

"Here." He says after a moment and throws something over at you.

You jump slightly, sitting up to grab at whatever he's just thrown. Feeling it over, you quickly realized it was the thermal liner of his sleeping roll. It wasn't as comfortable as a blanket would be, but it was meant to hold in heat. It would keep you warm.

You look over to Soap, watching him flop back down onto his cot, his back to you once more. You're too stunned to move at first. You never expected Soap to do something so... nice. Especially for you.

"Thanks.." You mutter, getting up slowly to better lay out the lining on your bed.

"If it makes you stop squeaking that damn bed." He grumbles back.

You weren't going to argue with him. Whether he was only giving it to you to keep you from moving around or if he really felt bad you were cold, you didn't care. You were just happy to have some warmth.

The inside of the liner is warm already due to Soap having used it right before. It even sort of smells like him a little bit but, surprisingly, not in a bad way. It smells faintly like cologne, but you can't pick out the specific fragrances.

You lay on your side, facing him this time. The apology you wanted to give him earlier is on the tip of your tongue. It was the least you could do since he'd give you the warmest part of his sleeping roll.

"Hey, Soap?" You call out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as you wait for a confirmation he was listening. He grunts a bit. "I... I'm sorry for what happened earlier." Soap doesn't say anything, and you're not sure what he's thinking. It begins to feel awkward after a moment, so you continue, feeling the need to fill the silence. "...I shouldn't have yelled at you like I did."

"It's fine, States. Just go to bed." He mumbles, making you bite the inside of your cheek again.

"Ok." You mumble back. "Goodnight."

"Night, States."

Silence falls over the room then, and you close your eyes. Soap's liner, while not the most comfortable thing, keeps you warm. The day had been long and stressful, and you weren't sure how things would be tomorrow. You just hoped the days would go by quick.

One day down... six to go...

[whateverloomis]

What if you did a Billy x reader x Stu where they’re like IN LOVE in love w reader but the readers just super oblivious and when they kill their girlfriends readers just like “oh shit I’m next” but they confess they’re love also reader could be gender neutral

(I’m sorry if this sucks I am NOT good at requests)

Don't worry anon, it's totally okay! I feel like I got way too dramatic with this lmao, but we need a little bit of drama to spice things up once in a while :P

Warnings: Hopelessly romantic Billy and Stu (lol,) stalking, mentions of murders, touchy feely Billy and Stu, kissing (nothing too intense here,) unedited

Word count: 1.3k

Reader: GN, no pronouns used

Casey, Tatum and now Sidney. You're most likely next. No, you are next, 100%. Why would the ghost face killer spare you? You're part of the friend group and you sure as hell aren't special. At least that's what you told yourself, but Billy and Stu thought different.

They were both painfully in love with you. They couldn't handle having anyone trying to hit on you and steal you from them. They were possessive and with each day it got even more intense and fucked up.

They's kill whoever showed any kind of romantic interest in you. It was unbearable to know there was someone else other than them who felt for you.

Billy loved to follow you to your house and make random apparitions when you least expected it. He thought it was so adorable when you did that little jump when he scared you.

"Billy! You scared me!" You said after gasping.

"Aw I didn't mean to." He said, eyes dark with amusement.

You looked around, anxiety evident since he triggered your fight or flight. What if there was someone else following you? What if the killer's stalking you without you realizing it? If Billy, your close friend who you could easily recognize could do it then a masked killer could do it too. You were terrified.

"It's okay I... Can you walk me home? It's getting kinda dark already." You asked and Billy smirked. He got exactly what he wanted.

"Sure thing."

•

Somewhere along the way he placed his hand around your waist while you guys walked. You didn’t think much of it since he obviously didn’t mean anything by it, so you thought. Instead, you expressed to him how scared you were because of the kills taking place in Woodsboro. It had been months since your friends were slaughtered and you got pretty good at suppressing your emotions and continuing your life semi normally, but it still got to you inevitably from time to time.

Billy and Stu were your primary source of comfort. After the kills took place they didn’t waste any time and became as close to you as they could.

“I understand your worries and fears, YN. Really, I do, but…” he trailed off. Billy didn’t want to exactly dismiss your words, he just wanted to play around with them a little bit so everything was in his and Stu’s favor.

“…but you have me now. Me and Stu. We’ll protect you no matter what. You’re safe, I promise.” Billy reassured and smirked in satisfaction once he felt you relax under his shoulder.

“You’re right,” you said softly as you climbed up the stairs to your front porch.

Billy stood in front of you, one step lower and leaned against the wooden rail. He looked into your eyes and for a second your heart skipped a beat, but you blinked quickly and looked away, composing yourself.

Billy is undeniably attractive but you couldn't go there, plus there was no chance in hell he'd be interested, so you brush any weird feelings away.

"You home alone tonight? I can keep you company if you'd like," the boy suggested and you definitely wouldn't have minded one bit. Being home alone wasn't your favorite thing especially after the murders. Much less being alone an entire week thanks to your parents being away on a work trip.

You hesitated for a moment, not knowing if it would be best to be alone or with someone in the house. What if Billy got killed instead of you? Or worse, what if you both got killed? In your own home? The irrational thoughts ran wild and Billy could see that you were lost in them.

"Hey" he said softly and grabbed your hand reassuringly, secretly seeking more physical contact with you; "It's okay if you don't want me to-" - "No, no it's not that I just..." you trailed off when you felt Billy touch your cheek with his free hand, looking into your eyes. Was he going to kiss you? It definitely looked like he was, but the boy got interrupted.

"What's up kiddos!? We having a party at YNs?" Stu broke Billy's moment as he approached from behind. The boy bit his lip in annoyance and glared at Stu as he made his way towards you and hugged you tightly, lifting you up in the process.

You inevitably giggled at his playfulness and placed your hands on his chest as he set you down.

"C'mon! Let's have a movie night or something! You got popcorn here?" Stu asked excitedly and you nodded. His cheerfulness made the idea sound perfect, so you took his offer and invited the boys in.

•

"Ugh, why is there always a lowkey love interest in horror movies? Everyone is gonna die anyways." You said related to the film you were watching.

Billy craned his neck to the side and looked at you, lifting an eyebrow in intrigue; "Why wouldn't there be? It makes things more interesting." He said and Stu hummed in agreement, lost in the sex scene that was taking place on the screen.

"Well, yeah but what's the point? Honestly." You replied and Billy gave you a confused expression.

"I mean, have you ever been in love? If you analyze it, it does make sense." Billy said and you thought for a second before replying; "Mm, no. I don't think I ever have."

At your words Billy shifted on the couch to face you completely. Stu paused the movie, too shocked to continue watching the film.

"Are you serious?" Billy asked and Stu looked at you in shock, his head resting on Billy's shoulder.

"No. It's not a big deal guys. Plus, nobody has ever been in love with me either so it doesn't really matter."

The boys tensed up at your words. Were you really that oblivious? The tension, the touchiness, the compliments, all their love languages spilled on you wasn't obvious enough?

"What if I told you that you're wrong?" Billy asked, his voice soft.

"The signs have been in front of you the whole time, YN!" Stu said, losing his patience.

You couldn't read their expressions or understand what they were trying to say. Were they admitting that they both love you? There was no way that could be true, right?

"Wh- What are you guys saying?" You asked and Billy had enough of your games, even though you had no idea they felt challenged by you.

The boy leaned in and kissed you. His hand immediately fell on your thigh and you couldn't help but kiss him back.

Stu stood up and sat behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing kisses on your shoulder.

You felt chills all over your body at the sensation of both of their lips on you. You never thought you'd ever be in this position, much less with your best friends. The only ones left after everything. The only ones who were there for you.

Your emotions were overwhelming. You were confused, excited and turned on all at once. Maybe you have feelings for them too and didn't even realize it.

"You don't know how much I've been waiting to get my hands on you." Billy whispered against your lips and kissed you a few more times before continuing; "Show you how much I feel for you... Fuck, how much we both feel for you." He bit his lower lip and kissed you again.

You moaned into Billy's mouth, his words were so promising. So real.

"Mhmm." Stu hummed softly in agreement next to you; "It's been driving me crazy, YN... Both of us." He continued and turned you around. It was his turn to kiss you now. You played with each other's tongues and moaned softly into each other's mouths before he finally said it; "We love you." He kissed you once more before continuing; "So fucking much." He finished as he squeezed your sides in excitement.

Billy wrapped his arms around you from behind, his limbs resting above Stu's; "So... So much, baby." He whispered in your ear and you just about melted.

You had so much to figure out. So much to address with yourself and so much confusion circling in your head, but all you could think about was how much you wanted them. How much you needed to feel them and explore their feelings further. How much you needed Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.

[eggcats]

Still thinking about this post bc these two morons have taken over my mind.

And I'm just like. Even after the revelation that Alastor thinks Vox is attractive, and even AS Vox is trying to get this idiot oblivious deer to realize he likes him, Alastor doesn't really change how he treats Vox. Like, at all.

The only change is that now part of his mockery is calling him stupid for not realizing that he's the most eligible demon in hell, lmao (he didn’t realize Vox didn't already know, how stupid of him).

He still likes picking fights and actually fighting him for real. (It's Fun and Entertaining - and for him, nothing has changed that would make him stop)

And I'm kind of thinking that THIS, and not everything else, is what makes Vox realize that Alastor ISN'T mocking him about this. He's serious. Because surely if this was an entire plot to make fun of him, Alastor would at least ATTEMPT to woo him properly before he pulls out the rug from under him, right? He wouldn't just continue on with his day as if he didn't just upend Vox's entire afterlife.

Like, maybe after the first conversation, and after Vox powers back on, he's hopeful, but he knows both what he looks like and what ALASTOR'S like, so he kind of just assumes that Alastor has figured out his less than 100% rival feelings towards him and decided to add it to his mockery.

But then he shows up the next day, determined to beat Alastor at his own game (he will PRETEND to be wooed and then throw it back on him when Alastor tries to mock him, it'll surely work! Totally). And Alastor is like, "Why are YOU back here?!" And doesn't even act any different towards Vox than he did the day before the Revelation.

And Vox is like. Oh, fuck. He was serious.

Suddenly, Vox realizes that, rather than the Normal Hell he THOUGHT he lived in (one where Alastor makes fun of his crush on him) he lives in Weird Hell, where now he has to somehow convince Alastor that he just, is attracted to him and NOT that everyone, somehow, is just. In love with him? Or something??? (What the Fuck?)

There are times when he's tired of fighting with Alastor about this, that a part of him wishes he DID live in Normal Hell, because at least he'd know what to do. (It's not like Val doesn't ALSO mock his crush on Alastor, he at least knows how to respond to THAT).

Even when he convinces Alastor to date him (to make everyone (who doesn't exist, by the way) jealous), Alastor still barely treats him any different. He still pokes and teases at Vox, even as he is (seemingly unintentionally) complimenting him.

One time, Alastor is like, "We haven't fought in ages, we should do that the next time we plan an outing!"

Vox, about to lose it because he had just NOW thought he understood what was going on: What the fuck??! I thought we were dating, why do you still want to kill me?!

Alastor: Dear, we've never been trying to kill each other! If we were, one of us would be dead, ha ha! This is entertainment, pure and simple!

(Translation: Alastor is bored and requires enrichment in his enclosure).

And now Vox has to now grapple with the fact that Alastor apparently saw fighting with him as fun, and not, y'know, rivals legitimately trying to kill one another. What.

--

Also, Valentino notices very quickly the sudden change in Vox's demeanor - usually when they fight, Vox doesn't take long before coming to him for forgiveness. Or, the few times he doesn't, Val doesn't have any difficulties changing Vox's mind (and getting Vox to buy him whatever he wants).

So, when Val decides that if Vox is going to stay pissy about his little comment, he'll "apologize" - ("Come on, amorcito, you know you're the only one for me! Those whores mean nothing compared to you!") But Vox, just, doesn't forgive him and go back to his arms. And Valentino is at a loss.

He LOSES it when he finds out Vox has been hanging at that shitty hotel and chasing that radio bastard (again!). He doubles his efforts of letting Vox know there is absolutely No Way Alastor cares for him at all, let alone as much as Valentino does!

And then Vox and Alastor are dating, and Val tries to shoot one (or both) of them. (He also tries to get Vox to leave Alastor for him when he finds them fighting and destroying empty buildings in a part of the pentagram, but it doesn't work because once they're done fighting Alastor is like "Well, that was fun!" And invites Vox to dinner after, lol. The fighting was the date activity for the day for the silly little radio man, and Vox is too confused to question it.)

(Also, ironically, Val being pissed at Alastor dating Vox just validates Alastor's beliefs - because it never occurs to him to Val is mad because keeping Vox hanging off of him made it easier for Val to get whatever he wants).

--

But, slowly, Vox is starting to realize that, despite Alastor INSISTING that he's not into him and is only dating him for the (nonexistent) clout - he does weirdly care in his own way, and somehow, he's a more romantic partner to him than Valentino ever was, even without seeming to even try to be or realizing it.

One time, Alastor notices that Vox not been to the hotel once in the past few days (since this whole thing has started, he's basically been showing up consistently), so he goes to break into Vee tower to see what's up.

"What's up" is Vox overworking himself and not sleeping for days and only consuming energy drinks as he hasn't left his little computer dungeon even once.

So. Alastor just. Kidnaps him. Refuses to listen as Vox is like, yelling that this project needs done, like, yesterday!

Alastor: Dear, are there not two others in your team who could do this?

Vox: Val is fucking useless at this shit, and Velvette doesn't care if it's late!

Alastor: Well, what's the point of them? You should let me eat them for this. Regardless, it's been at least 3 days of this for you, so if they wish for it to be on time, they can do it themselves.

And then Alastor just brings them back to his room and forces Vox to eat a real meal, before picking him up and dumping him on his bed.

(Vox, suddenly wide awake: What the fuck. What the FUCK. Since when were we having sex?!?!)

(They're not. Alastor changes his clothes to pajamas and threatens to eat one of his employees for every minute he's not sleeping for the next 8 hours.)

(Vox wonders what's wrong with him that he considers this to be romantic).

Either way, Vox passes out for at least 10 hours before waking up to 30+ missed calls, 50+ missed texts, and 100+ missed emails, all wondering where he disappeared to and why the project he was working on wasn't finished. Once again, Alastor offers to eat them. Vox refuses to find it charming. (He's lying, he does).

Especially since after this incident, Alastor will break into Vee tower now more often if he thinks Vox hasn't eaten or slept properly.

And then, one day, Vox just realizes that, despite Alastor saying to the contrary, they're definitely, like, dating for real. But Vox can't tell Alastor that, because any time he even implies this, he calls Vox an idiot because he's only dating him for publicity. (Never acknowledging that, like, anything he does for Vox that isn't in the public eye is very clearly not for that, lol)

[btnclmrttn]

could I request Saitama, Genos, and Garou with a fem playful/bratty reader? Someone who sort of likes to poke fun at them and give them a hard time/be difficult just to get a reaction out of them (sometimes by being stubborn, sometimes by being really flirty 👀)

(A grand idea! I appreciate your patience with my lack of request answers. I hope I made it worth your wait!)

Saitama

- Going off how he reacts to someone like Tatsumaki, he likely wouldn't take you that seriously if you were giving him a hard time for the hell of it. Nothing against you it's just his unbothered attitude he holds for life

-It doesn't mean he isn't listening, though. It can amuse him if you go the extra mile just to be difficult. Or annoying if he's having a bad day, but it takes a lot of inconveniences in his day to where he actually gets a bit irritated

- When he's on his last straw he'll just start silently bugging you. He won't say anything as he starts poking you or messing with you and your things as a diversion.

- If you're being flirty instead of bull-headed, he's got a look he gives you. Like he's trying to look unamused and isn't convincing enough. The more you push it, the more shades of red layer on his face. He can't get used to it, or much bothered by it.

Genos

- Least bothered of the three. Couldn't get any sort of annoyed reaction if that's what you're looking for, but confusion might be one occasionally.

-Your dedication to being stubborn intrigues him as it can come off as unnecessary in his eyes. If there's something you want, he'd just give it to you if you ask straight up, typically.

- Far from arguing against it though. Even if he doesn't understand it, sometimes it's what makes you out to be the person he loves, so he will entertain your playful nature.

- Be careful with how much you want to be flirty, as if you say something just a bit too specific he'll just proceed to carry out the hint you drop as he registers it as just a request. Ain't that what you want though? ;D

Garou

- If you can take up this man in making the attitude a competition, may the odds be in your favor 😭

- Most of the time, he can give it right back to you. You poking fun at him, he's getting his lick in too. Wanna be difficult? Answer to him also being difficult. Whether it's fighting your fire with his fire or he'll catch you the second you're a fool enough to be his peace for a minute

- Being like that could get you on each other's nerves or not really at all, though the latter is more likely. He's all for the playful nature you have. Doesn't make him feel not a damn bit bad either for when he's matching your energy

- Loves it when the bantering gets into flirty territory. Eggs you on to just keep at it. Asks you to elaborate on what you mean with a smug grin on his face. He knows what you're getting at, though. It's entertaining trying to see how your brattiness is in making you use your words

[artemismoorea03]

Ok, but for your amusement, might I suggest:

Tucker decides Danny needs a break and a shot at a love life. Tucker blackmails Danny into ATTENDING (though he makes the mistake of not specifying for how long) and Danny runs into a bored Wayne kid. Neither want to be there. Both were blackmailed with the kindest intentions. Both decide to team up to make their well-meaning but obnoxious meddlers pay.

I MIGHT HAVE GONE A LITTLE CRAZY WITH A REPLY HOLY FUCK, I'M SO SORRY. WARNINGS FOR THE END: MENTIONS OF GUNS, THREATS OF VIOLENCE, VIOLENCE. Happy ending <3

"Danny, you need a break." Tucker said, and Danny sighed.

"This again? Guys, I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Danny." Sam insisted, standing next to Tucker. She had originally struck up this conversation when they were still in Amity Park. "You're going through a lot right now and you need a distraction that isn't work or ghost related. Gardening didn't work-" Because he froze every plant he touched, "Meditation didn't work-" because when he closed his eyes and tried to relax he would have flashbacks about the countless things he'd seen since the accident. "So the next step is dating."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Hard pass."

"Come on dude, Sam is right. If nothing else you can at least do some people watching and get to know the city better!"

Danny simply continued to scroll on Tiktok, wondering how hard it would be to do one of those dancing videos he saw everywhere. Then again he'd actually need to know how to dance for that to work. He was so busy looking at the video he didn't notice the glance his friends passed between each other before they sighed.

"You've given us no choice, Danny." Sam said, "Tucker."

Tucker held a phone out to Danny to make him see the screen as Danny's face burned red at the picture. It was a picture of him in his Phantom form after a fight with Skulker where a good chunk of his suit had been destroyed, showing off more than Danny was comfortable with.

"DUDE! I told you to delete that!" Danny said, jumping off the couch towards Tucker who was pulled out of the way by Sam who then armed herself with a frying pan. "Delete it, guys!"

"No way! And if you don't at least get out of this house and at least make a friend I'm going to make a Phantom Dating Profile using this picture!"

"You wouldn't dare." Danny glared.

"Try us." Sam said, "We'll even send it through the Ghost Zone now that the Phantom Phones are working we're bound to get some replies from interested ladies."

Danny faultered, then groaned. "Fine."

"Hell yeah, we even made it easy for you." Sam said, handing Danny a piece of laminated plastic. "One ticket to the Wayne Gala this weekend. Tucker got permission for two people to go with him. Which means the three of us are going to a party!"

"A party. A Wayne run party? You guys are just begging for trouble." Danny sighed, "Besides, I don't own a tux, remember?"

"Leave that to me."

Two days later the party arrived and the three of them walked up the drive towards the building where the event was being held.

Sam was wearing a beautiful A-Line dress that was jet black in color with a rose shaped black bracelet that was wrapped around her wrist over the back of her hand and connected to her middle finger.

Tucker was wearing a black suit with a white button up shirt with slight rose shaped patterns on it, a black tie and a thin gold chain connected to his left vest pocket. he looked very sofisticated.

Danny felt like a fool though. Silently wishing he had never let Sam pick out his clothes. He was wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the black compression sleeve on his left hand, a gray vest, black suit pants, black shoes and a black tie. He was wearing a silver watch on his right hand which served as a ghost portal maker in emergencies.

He also knew that the 'pocket watch' in Tucker's Pocket was the same kind of device, and the rose Sam was wearing would release harmless smoke out of it if they needed a distraction.

Danny still felt like this was a bad idea. No, actually, this was a terrible idea. Not only because he looked out of place compared to his friends but compared to the rest of the party he hardly seemed like he fit in. He was going to draw so much attention to himself.

They walked to the front doors, showing their invitations and id's to the guards before walking inside. It wasn't as loud as some other parties they'd seen since coming to Gotham but it also was more crowded. There were people everywhere in expensive outfits, talking about... something that sounded like rich person gossip, it was boring.

"Have fun you two, don't make fools out of yourselves." Sam said, waving as she walked over to mingle with a young woman with blonde hair and another girl with short black hair, both seemed to recognize her.

"Oh, hey those guys are from my team, I'll catch you later, Danny. I wanna talk shop." Tucker said, rushing off just as quickly as Sam did as Danny sighed.

'I wanna go home.' He thought as he began to wade through the sea of people, trying to find his way to a wall where he could make himself look as small as possible. Not that it would be hard, his body was so busy developing new powers all the time it had decided that he didn't need to grow anymore after he turned 16 and stuck him at a solid 5'6".

He finally found his way to a corner, letting out a sigh as he sat down on a chair and looked out at the party happening all around him. He started to subconsciously count the people in the room, even going so far as to closed his eyes and sensed the very souls in the room. 56 people in his room, 17 in the room Sam was in, 10 upstairs. Danny then opened his eyes and got a sense for the room in another way. 45 windows lined the entire South side of the building if he was going his math right, with two sets of double doors near the front of the building. The building was mostly open floorplan which helped keep an eye on everybody but in an emergency it would be a stampede.

A man walked over, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall with a growl. He was wearing clothes similar to Danny's but with a red shirt, but what caught Danny's attention was how he felt. He was luminal but not like Sam who felt like a walk through the garden or Tucker who felt like gritty sand, no the feeling that came from this man was like fire. A burning pain that also felt like grease stuck to the back of Danny's throat.

He was luminal but the ectoplasm that made him luminal was so fucking tainted that it made Danny want to gag.

Seeming to notice Danny's glance the man looked back at him.

"What?" He growled.

"Nothing, just thought your hair was cool." Danny said, noting the white streak at the front of his bangs.

The man blinked, touching his hair. He was about Danny's age if he had to guess, maybe a bit older.

"Thanks. It's a birthmark." He grumbled, but Danny could tell that it was probably a sore subject. If death turned his hair white he could only assume it did the same to this guy too. "What's your name kid? Never seen you at one of these boring as parties."

"Danny. Danny Fenton. And I'm not a kid, I'm 19."

"Same age as me, neat. The name's Jason." Jason introduced, himself. "You work at Wayne Enterprises?"

"Kinda, I'm just the janitor, my friend was the one who was invited. I'm just one of his plus ones."

"Yikes, what'd you do to deserve a punishment like that?" Jason asked as Danny laughed.

"My friends decided that going to work then living as some kind of godless cryptid that sleeps the rest of the day 'isn't healthy' so they dragged me out here in hopes that I'll make friends. Though they may have heavily implied that they expected me to either find a date or hook up with somebody while I was here. When I said no, they blackmailed me here. I'm just hoping that if I stay small and don't complain then they'll just let me exist without getting in my face for a while. What about you, what are you in for?"

Jason hummed and nodded, "Similar story. My dad and siblings are all here and said that if I didn't at least make an appearance this time that they would hide some of my books. Among other things. Plus my older brother used the whole 'you never spend time with us' whimper while my two sisters gave me puppy dog eyes."

Danny and Jason sighed before Danny looked at him. "Wanna hang out so they think we're playing nice and leave us alone?"

"Sure." Jason chuckled, "So which ones are your friends?"

"That one there." Danny said pointing to Tucker, "Tucker Foley, he works as a Programmer at WE. Then over there is Sam Mason, she works as a Gardener."

Jason's eyes widened, "Doesn't your friend Sam work at the Wayne Manor?"

"Yeah? How do you know that?"

"My dad is Bruce Wayne." He said, his eyes going to Tucker before they landed back on Danny and he laughed. "Wait. You're that Janitor?"

Danny swallowed a lump in his throat. "I don't understand?"

"My dad came home one day and said that somebody told him that there was information happening at Wayne Enterprises that was above his paygrade an we've been teasing him about it for weeks. Now every time he asks anything we reply with 'that's above your paygrade, Bruce'."

Danny groaned, his cheeks burning red. "Oh my god, I can't believe this. I didn't even mean to say that, I just panicked when he suddenly showed up in storage for no reason and caught me... uh... testing stuff."

"Testing stuff?" Jason asked as Danny nodded.

"Y-yeah. See, I work as a janitor because I didn't graduate high school and unlike Tucker I can't just breeze through school and show off my hacking skills to get a job. So I've been using some of the tech that gets thrown away to make something that would help me temporarily lift some of the fragile heavy objects around the building and place them harmlessly down so I can clean under them. But then Bruce caught me, I panicked and that was my reply." Danny was quick to explain, which wasn't a lie he was working on something like that but it was for the Ghost Zone to help him move some heavy things around his Lair and hold down things that often floated off for no damn reason.

"You know, that does explain a couple of things. I can't imagine your boss seeing you mess with tech would be a fun thing to explain. But... if you're so smart why didn't you graduate?"

Danny shook his head, "I'm not smart, I mean not like Tucker or Sam or my family. My sister is in Metropolis studying Psychology and is already a good way through her degree because she graduated a year early. Tucker and Sam graduated and are both working on getting degrees in something but nah, school just wasn't something I could do. Sitting behind a desk learning from a book isn't my thing. I'm better at using my hands, figuring stuff out on the fly, and trial and error shit."

Jason thought about this for a moment before he smiled. "I don't blame you, school is bullshit. Just like stupid galas."

"Mhm..."

Jason suddenly smiled, "Dude, I have the best idea to get back at all of them."

Danny smiled back, "Oh, you have all of my attention."

That one choice was how Danny ended up leaning against a wall closer to the crowd while Jason loomed with one hand near his head, talking to him about absolutely nothing important just to play the position while Danny occasionally chuckled. To anybody outside of the conversation it was supposed to look like they were flirting, which in a way they were but they also weren't.

"Do you like raisins? How about a date?"

Danny chuckled, at the horrible pickup line. "Excuse me, sir, do you have the time? I would like to know the exact time when I got a crush on you."

Jason snorted, "Are you a magnet? Because you sure are attracting to me."

Noticing Tucker and Sam looking his way Danny reached up and gently touched Jason's black tie to sell it more, but he was careful not to touch Jason otherwise. "Let's flip a coin." He told the taller man, "Heads I'm yours, tails you're mine."

Jason's cheek got ever so slightly red as he cleared his throat. "Are you a parking ticket, because you've got fine written all over you." He said as Danny chuckled again, watching Sam and Tucker quickly walk away to give Danny privacy.

"If you were a vegetable you'd be a cute-cumber."

Jason relaxed again at the cheesy flirt as Danny touched the silk tie in his hands. Not because he was actively trying to flirt with Jason but because it felt really nice and expensive. Jason snapped him out of his thoughts with another flirt. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or shall I walk by again?"

Before Danny could think of another flirt another man walked over, this one about 24 or so in age. He had wavy black hair and blue eyes with tan skin.

"Little Wing! Who's your friend?"

"Ugh." Jason groaned, moving slightly as Danny let go of his tie. "Take a hint, Dickie-Bird." He groaned.

The new person simply ignored Jason though and held out his hand.

"Hi! I'm Dick, Jason's older brother."

Danny shook his hand, "Danny. Danny Fenton, it's nice to meet you."

"You too, Danny! You look a little young to be working at WE, are you here with somebody?"

"A bit of both, I'm a janitor at WE but I'm here with my friend Tucker."

"Really? That's awesome! How old are you, Danny?"

"I'm 19."

This seemed to relieve Dick in a way that confirmed any suspicion that Danny had about him checking to make sure Jason wasn't doing anything illegal though he found himself ever so slightly annoyed. Did he look that young? No, people were just blind.

"Neat! Well, I just wanted to make sure Little Wing here didn't ditch the party, so I'll let you guys go back to what you were doing. Have fun~" He said, then walked away as Danny chuckled and looked at Jason.

"'Little Wing'?"

"Dick gives everybody nicknames, it's stupid. Now, where were we?" He asked, suddenly slamming his hand back by Danny's head as his cheeks grew warm. "Oh, that's right, I was going to out cheese you with these stupid fuckin' flirts."

Danny snorted, "Do you play soccer? Because you look like a keeper."

"I'm studying to be a historian. I'm really interested in finding a date."

This continued for a long time until they ran out of flirts and by that point Bruce Wayne was about to do a speech. At least that was the plan until suddenly the doors slammed open as party was crashed by a large group of people all wearing matching masks. Masks that looked like Ghostface from Scream.

There were at least twenty of them, all heavily armed with guns that they fired into the air. Jason cursed and Danny quickly grabbed him by the arm.

"Don't." He said, looking for Sam and Tucker who were trapped on the other side of the room. They were separated, they were in a large room but with so many people they might have been trapped in a hallway. "Where's your family?"

Jason looked around, "I see my dad and youngest brother. My two sisters are with your friend Sam. I don't see the other three though."

Danny shook off the question of 'just many of you are there' and instead nodded. "Okay, my friends are together too. So we should stick together, everybody else is in groups. Rushing anywhere now might start a stampede."

Jason frowned then glared at the criminals who were pointing their guns at everybody.

"Okay~ I think it's time we get this party started. Now, let's make this easy. If you don't actively work at Wayne Enterprises or aren't related to Wayne Family via blood or adoption get on your stomachs on the ground, the rest of you stay on your feet."

"They're looking for somebody..." Jason mumbled as Danny nodded.

The majority of the crowd laid down while only about a third of the crowd remained standing allowing them to see each individual person.

"Very good!" The criminal in charge praised and looked around. "Now, anybody who makes the wrong move will get one of the people laying on the ground killed. I know a lot of you are stupid enough to try to play heroes so instead of you getting shot we'll shoot whoever is closest to us."

"Shit." Danny and Jason both said together before passing a glance at one another.

The one in charge looked around again until he looked at Danny and pointed at him. "You. Step up."

"No way." Jason said as the man pointed a gun at a young woman who sobbed in fear.

"No no, it's okay. I'm coming." Danny said, patting Jason's arm as he walked carefully through the crowd towards the gunmen.

"Nice to see you again, brat." Hissed the man as Danny raised a brow. Before he could question it though the man pointed to Bruce Wayne. "You. Step up."

"Father." The young kid standing next to Bruce Wayne said going to argue but Bruce just told him to stay put then walked towards them. Bruce kept his hands up, looking at Danny with a clear look of recognition.

"Why don't you let the kids go, there's not a lot of them but those who are here don't need to be involved in whatever demands you have." Bruce said.

"Hah, no way, Bruice-Boy." Hissed the man as two of his men grabbed Bruce by his wrists, yanking his arms behind his back and knocking him back down to his knees. "We came here today for you, but damn we're lucky that this one is here. See, if it weren't for the kid here-" The man grabbed Danny by the front of his suit, shoving the barrel against his chin. "We wouldn't need to do this. This is what happens when you meddle, brat."

Danny's heart sank before he glared. "It's you. You're that bastard who boke in a few weeks ago!"

"Yeah! And if you had just minded your damn business this wouldn't be happening now. If you had just let us do what we were going to do then it wouldn't be a problem."

"You were trying to burn down part of the building with people still inside, I wasn't going to let you."

"And how is that turning out for you now, brat? Hm?" He moved the gun from Danny's chin as shoved Danny back into the arms of two more men who grabbed Danny's arms and shoved them behind his back but let him stay on his feet. "Now, Mr. Wayne, let me explain. See, you and your company were trying to find a cure for something found in the water supply that was making some kids sick, but see were were making a lot of money selling the cure at the highest price. We were going to destroy your progress but unfortunately we were stopped by another kid who thought he was a hero. So, this is what we're going to do. You're good at fundraising so you're going to help us fundraise ransoms for each and every one of these people from their own pockets. The more a person pays the more limbs they get to keep. We'll start at 20,000 per limb." He pointed his gun at Jason. "We'll start with the young man closest to doing something stupid."

Danny growled, glancing at Sam and Tucker. Their eyes met and Danny flashed them green. Sam nodded then with a swift motion told her friends something before smashing her bracelet on the ground.

In an instant their area filled with smoke that rushed out covering the men with smoke and protecting the majority of the crowd laying on the ground in a layer of smoke while only those standing could be seen. Danny reacted as well, knowing that more people would be able to see him . Dropping his full weight down he yanked the two men holding him together as they smashed their heads together and let him go. Danny then elbowed the one to his right in the crotch before standing up, grabbing the barrel of his gun and yanking it upwards, squeezing the metal so the gun would be unusable before he pulled it from the mans hand. Flipping on the safety of the gun he spun it and smacked the man in the temple with the butt.

Danny spun the gun, moving it to his left hand before disarming the man of his gun and kicking it into the smoke in the direction of the stairs in hopes of keeping it away from people. Snapping out of their dazes Bruce and Jason also seemed to react as Bruce slammed his head back, breaking the nose of one of the men before elbowing one in the center of the chest knocking the breath out of him while Jason grabbed the barrel of the gun the main guy was using and shoved it up, causing the gun to go up and break some of the ceiling plaster but preventing people from getting hit. Deciding to leave those men to those two Danny go to work again, but this time in a slightly different way.

He hated fighting humans.

They were too fleshy and not durable like ghosts so he chose not to fight and the smoke provided the perfect cover as he froze the feet of the enemies who were still posing threats while mysterious snake like shapes wriggled under the smoke and yanked the men under to where they would later be found wrapped up in plants or ice. One by one the men were taken down until there was a pained cry that made Danny turn when he heard Bruce shout.

"Jason!"

Danny turned, seeing Jason rubbing at his face. There as a cut above his brows from a knife. He had managed to get the gun from the man but he had pulled out a knife.

Protect.

Danny snarled, taking a step forward as the man went to stab Jason. Danny and Bruce moved at the same time with Bruce covering his son. But Danny made it to them before the man could make contact and he got in the way of the attack. Danny held the wrists of the man as he barred his teeth.

Danny shoved the mans hands upwards, knocking him back slightly before he spun and did a roundhouse kick. An attack that he might have put just a bit too much power into as the man was thrown a good ten feet backwards towards the stairs and the doors that he had broken down. Danny could hear the man wheezing and coughing, seeing him flailing desperately under the smoke but not getting up.

No sooner did Danny relax and turn back to the Bruce and Jason then did Batman (who seemed shorter today for some reason), Red Robin and Signal showed up with the police and a verity of confused looks.

"You sure you're okay?" Danny asked Jason who nodded, his forehead bandaged.

"Just a scratch, headwounds bleed a lot. I'm more confused what the hell just happened. Normally the bats react more quickly than that when they send in a smoke screen."

Danny chuckled, "You have a lot of experiences with the bats?"

"I'm a Wayne, it comes with the territory. Are your friends okay?" He asked as Danny looked towards Sam and Tucker who were mostly just waiting for Danny to finish but Tucker was also hacking on his phone to erase whatever data he could from the security cameras as he possibly could.

"They're fine. I'm going to get an earful for being reckless though."

"I don't think you were reckless. But... how did you learn to fight like that?"

"Uh... long story. Where we come from though the saying 'fight or die' was serious and there were daily reminders of it. But again... long story."

Jason nodded, looking drained. "Well... I know that this whole thing was just a way to get our groups off of our backs but how would you like to get dinner together some day? Just as friends, I mean I'm not against maybe trying some day but right now I kinda wanna get to know you. Besides, I'd like to thank you for protecting me and my dad."

Danny thought for a moment before he smiled. "Sure." He reached into his pocket and handed Jason his phone. Jason typed in his number then handed the phone back. "Get home safe, Jason."

"You too, Danny."

Danny started walking away when Bruce suddenly called out.

"Danny." Danny stopped and turned towards his boss, shrinking down slightly before Bruce smiled and put his hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"All good."

"Are you sure? You did really well out there but if you're hurt you should get looked out."

"I'm not hurt, Mr. Wayne, I promise. Just really tired."

"Alright, if you're sure." Bruce moved his hand and smiled, "Thanks for saving us, Danny."

"Any time, Mr. Wayne, but let's not make a habit out of it, okay? I moved to Gotham to get away from craziness like that." He said, waving his hand as he walked to his friends as he wrapped his arms over both of their shoulders and they made their way home.

"So, you guys have fun?" Sam asked as Danny looked at her.

"You know what... kinda, yeah. At least until the end."

"Did you get his number?" Wondered Tucker.

"Of course I did."

[seramilla]

More angst for the Homophobic Heaven AU:

The Exterminations, and therefore the Exorcists, didn't exist until thousands of years after Carmilla's fall. When they DID begin Carmilla and a few other Fallen Angels tried to fight back, only to be stopped and teleported away by Lucifer. He told them that the Exterminations were to cut down the sinner population, and while some of them questioned this decision, most accepted it.

Carmilla, on the other hand, was furious. And after the other Fallen have left, demanded to know which idiotic Elder decided that EXTERMINATION was a good idea. Only for Lucifer to tell her that SERA was the one who signed off on it. Carmilla refused to belive this, the Sera she knew and loved WOULD NEVER. Maybe she was just the one that the Elders put forth to negotiate the term? Yeah that MUST be it. Because if not... NO, her Sera would never agree to something this barbaric.

For Clara and Odette in this AU, I was thinking maybe they're Zestial's. After a couple of Beetlejuice Carmilla and Zestial get "acquainted" which results in the twins. They don't get together but they still remain good friends. Like an amicably divorced couple. He knows Carmilla is still in love with Sera and while he fills in the Father role for the girls, he makes sure to tell them stories that Carmilla told him of Sera, their other Mama.

"What do you mean Sera is responsible? She would never do this! I refuse to believe it!"

Carmilla stands before Lucifer Morningstar, king of Hell, embodiment of Pride, who is sitting on his throne, looking toward him as if he doesn't have the power to rip her asunder with a mere twitch of his claws. The amount of rage and anguish she feels at his words, the sense of outright betrayal and disbelief coursing through her body, give her a sense of bravery and defiance that any of the other embodiments of Sin simply wouldn't tolerate from their subjects.

But this is Lucifer. Her friend, her former comrade in arms, her brother, allowing her to show this much insubordination. Because he knows how she must feel, and it's not like he can fault her for it. Not one bit. Not when this news is so personal.

"Carmilla. I know this may be difficult to hear. But this information comes directly from the Elders. While someone may not be telling me the entire truth...until I hear otherwise, I have to work under the assumption that it's true."

"NO! It's not true! It can't be true! She's not that cruel!"

He's never seen so much anger in Carmilla's eyes before. Never so much raw grief and lack of composure; not from one of his oldest and closest friends. He can tell this is eating her up inside. Whether it's true or not, he can't say, but the news is having the likely intended effect on Carmilla. Heaven had wanted to wear them all down. What better way to do that, than for the source of the misery to be coming from the one Carmilla loves most?

Carmilla's companion, the demon spider Zestial, places a large, gangly black claw on the woman's shoulder. He's been standing behind her the entire time, trying not to get in the way of official angel business. He's only a Sinner, but Carmilla will rarely go anywhere without him, these days. Lucifer has permitted his presence, for her sake. He's quiet, studious, and well-behaved enough, for a Sinner. It's the least he can do.

Unfortunately, the ancient Sinner's attempt to comfort her doesn't work as well as he'd probably hoped. Carmilla steps forward, away from Zestial and closer to Lucifer. Getting up in his face. Breathing hard; pupils blown wide; for all the world like she wants to slap him.

She doesn't. It's not his fault. What good would it do, anyway? Squabbles among siblings is so beneath her. It would lead to nothing except more pain and anger between the two of them. It would accomplish nothing and make her feel even worse than she does right now.

She steps back again, her claws clenching even tighter together, and turns around to face away from him.

"I have some business I need to attend to," Lucifer says, looking up at her back that is now facing him, trying to distill the tension by offering himself a way out. "Again, I'm so sorry, Carmilla. You can stay here as long as you need to, to...compose yourself. I'll keep the others away."

Lucifer is gone in the time it takes to blink. He's teleported himself away from Carmilla's presence, not even bothering to use the door to his throne room. He likely doesn't want the others to catch a glimpse of Carmilla in her moment of weakness. She mentally thanks him for that, at the very least. Carmilla knows the way she's acting is very unbecoming. It's not like her at all.

But how is she supposed to act. When he...when Lucifer had...when he'd told her that news?

Without the presence of her king forcing her to keep it together, Carmilla's composure quite literally shatters. The woman can almost feel her heart being torn in two, as easily as someone might rip a piece of paper. With a sob of anguish, she falls apart, in every sense that a person can. Instead of collapsing onto the floor, which would be easier, she rushes toward Zestial, his arms already open and bringing her in to be sheltered by his heated embrace.

Carmilla cries, she wails, into the obsidian of his robes. He just holds her there, stroking her hair comfortingly, letting the long, loose strands flow through his claws like water.

Carmilla hadn't even had time to fix her hair this morning. That's how little she'd cared about the usual decorum of these angelic meetings. She'd told him she needed to talk to Lucifer right now, it couldn't wait, and he'd dropped everything, and teleported her right into the throne room with the seven Deadly Sins. Her and Zestial's presence hadn't exactly been...expected, but Lucifer had tolerated it. For her.

Now, as Carmilla's tears begin to soak into his robe, she grasps into the dark material with her claws, pulling a little too hard, until the fabric starts to rip. Zestial doesn't stop her, though. His robes have been through worse, and he's rather talented with a spinning wheel, so he'll just deal with it later. This is so much more important.

"How could she?" Carmilla weeps into his chest. "How could she, Zestial?"

"My dearest Carmilla," the old spider says, holding her closer to him with both arms. The hand on the back of her head strokes her neck. "We know not yet if the king spake truth, or if Heaven doth but jest with thee. Have faith, Carmilla."

"How?" Carmilla asks, bluntly. "How do I have faith in anything anymore?"

"When we are lost, and all doth seem hopeless, faith is all that remains. Heaven shall employ any wiles to make all appear for naught. Believe them not now."

Carmilla starts to calm. The smell of him, the smoke and ash wafting off the Sinner's body, is both familiar and comforting. She knows he speaks truth; Heaven cannot be trusted. It is not without precedent for them to say anything to drive a wedge between the fallen angels, or make it seem so hopeless, there's no use in fighting back. Carmilla is so embarrassed of herself. Like a child, she'd lashed out, and taken it out on Lucifer. Leave it to her oldest, dearest friend and companion to have more logic than herself.

Ever since she'd manifested down here, after Heaven had pushed her out, Zestial had been one of the few non-angels she's trusted. He's always been so different, more human, for lack of a better comparison, than any of her comrades that had fallen before her. They had changed too much, too drastically, for her to even recognize them at first. They'd lost their spark, their will to fight back...

Zestial, however, is a soul with as much wisdom as some of the angels in Heaven. He'd never lost his will to fight. In fact, it's one of the reasons he's lasted so long down here, and become such a powerful overlord. He knows when to show his hand, and also when to take a step back and assess. When to scheme, when to plan, and when to retreat. That's part of what she likes about him.

The fact that he's kind, patient, and loyal to a fault, is another reason. As well as the fact that he loves her so thoroughly, so passionately, and shows it, is yet another. She tries not to compare him to Sera, because they are absolutely not even remotely the same, but the way he holds her, kisses, her, makes love to her...it reminds her of her lost love, and the way she felt around Sera back in Heaven. But not quite. He is his own person, and had known going into this that there is still baggage there, that Carmilla still loves Sera, and yet...

He still holds her. Comforts her. Gives everything to the children they brought into the world together. Helps her keep that memory of Sera, a woman he's never met, alive for them, through his stories and fanciful tales. He doesn't have to do any of that. Gets absolutely nothing out of it except for Carmilla's endless gratitude and satisfaction. But maybe that's why he does it... Helping her and being there for her makes him happy. Carmilla doesn't think she'll ever be able to repay him.

Once Carmilla is calm, and she can look up at him with minimal new tears falling from her eyes, she can see his face is sad. But for her benefit, he smiles, ever so slightly, in that crooked, adorable way that he does. He pushes her hair behind her ear, away from her face, and then holds her cheek in his hand, to stroke it lightly.

"Fret not, Carmilla. All will become clear. Let us return to Odette and Clara. They are likely concerned for thee."

Carmilla nods. Once again, he's most likely correct. They'd left in such a hurry that morning, they hadn't had time to let the girls know where they were going.

"Okay," Carmilla says. "You're right. Let's go back."

Zestial nods in return, and then bends down, placing a final kiss to her forehead. It's not...romantic, per se, or platonic, either. It's somewhere in between. Or on a different plane entirely. It's hard to put a word to what their relationship is. But that's fine. They don't need a name for it. They are exactly what they need to be for each other, at this particular moment in time.

Pulling away, Carmilla wipes the remaining tears from her eyes. Then Zestial re-opens the portal, so they can go home to their girls, and rest off the stress of the day.

(Edit: Tagging @tanema123 cuz I know they love these two goobers, and who knows when I’ll dip my toe into Zestmilla again, Lmao)

[ssentimentals]

f1 pairings as famous love tropes: lando norris x oscar piastri

guy next door (neighbours!AU)

'and if only you knew that everything you wanted was right next to you'

oscar was fine. his vision was blurry and the same sentence he read four times stubbornly refused to make any sense, his head felt like it weighted at least fifty pounds and his fingers trembled a bit but he was fine. (he stopped being embarrassed long time ago for how horribly wrong his 'getting ready for midterms' routine went. said routine consisted of him pulling all-nighters while trying to finish dozens of assignments, getting anxious about his scholarship and slupring unhealthy amount of ramen noodles while dozing off on the kitchen counter). so yeah, oscar's got everything under control and he was fine. or it would've been if it weren't for loud screaming from his new neighbour in ungodly hours.

oscar squints at the clock on the wall and rubs his eyes for a good measure just to make sure he's not making any mistakes, but no, it really is two in the morning and aggressive screaming from the other side of the wall still continues. (for an hour now, oscar counted. he's mildly impressed, if anything). and see, oscar is not one to go and pick up fights. he's calm, minds his own business most of the time and has occassional rage moments here and there, nothing inadequate. and usually he'd ignore any kind of noise disturbance because he can sleep through anything, but right now? his fingers are itching with desire to punch something, strangled scream of frutration is stuck somewhere in his throat and this stupid essay on aerodynamics just really doesn't want to go anywhere after first two hundred words and oscar is scaringly close to throw his laptop out of the window. and as he's got no money for new laptop, which only frustrates him even more, he decides for a second best option - go and talk (read: fight, release his frustration) with his new neighbour. with determination he usually reserves for learning padel, he gets out of his flat and takes exactly five steps before coming face to face with the door. oscar knocks twice to be polite but when these knocks get ignored, he bangs on the door with renewed force, gritting his teeth in annoyance.

'hey, listen-' oscar starts in a clipped tone as soon as the door opens and promptly shuts his mouth, staring down at his new neighbour.

he's not what i imagined, is the first thought that crosses his mind but in reality oscar never really thought about his neighbour much. they never crossed paths and well, oscar never thought he'd meet someone like...that. green eyes stare back at him and tiredness that swims in them is all too familiar for oscar. bouncy curls in a haphazard mess and slouched pose with a definite tense line of shoulders make oscar pause. first of all, this guy is also a student, this despair in the gaze is reserved only for those who go through hell called midterms. second, they apparently go to same uni if his rumpled t-shirt with uni's name is anything to go by. which means they're on the same schedule midterms wise, which means-

'are you...' oscar clears his throat, changing his tone to a more neutral one because he has sympathy for any fellow student and because the guy is well, cute. if your type of cute is 'lost puppy who needs saving', that is. 'are you stress gaming at two in the morning?'

the guy in question blinks and rubs tiredly at his eyes. he tries to stiffle a yawn and while doing so barely manages to stay upright, ending up leaning on the wall for support. he pouts a little and oh. unfortunately, oscar's type is exactly 'lost puppy who needs saving' kind of cute. 'i, um,' he starts and it seems hard for him to form a coherent sentence at first, which in turn makes him frown. 'fuck. sorry, what again? i'm kind of-'

'out of it?' oscar suggests. 'mate, it's two in the morning and you're screaming something about some turns and laps. i live here,' he points to his own apartment and looks back, 'and i hear everything very clearly.'

it takes few seconds but oscar can practically see how his words reach the guy's brain and how realization sinks in. that's the cue for 'o' shaped mouth and regret on the face with pouty lips again. 'fucking hell, i'm so sorry. i just got so stressed and needed to get my mind out of that stupid exam before i set my apartment on fire and gaming's the best option,' he huffs, running his hands through his hair in frustration. 'i kind of lost track of time. clearly.'

his tone is dry and lacks any warmth, but his apologies bleed with sincerity and his eyes are big and almond shaped and despite redness that took over, they are so, so green that oscar's anger deflates like balloon. he gets is, just like probably any other student. if anything, guy in front of him looks even worse than he does and that really says something because oscar knows exactly in what horrible state he is at the moment.

'i'm really sorry mate,' his neighbour continues, sighing in defeat. 'i'll finish it up right now and you won't hear a thing again, i promise.' he then focuses on somewhere at the area of oscar's chest and even moves closer for inspection. 'is that a noodle on your t-shirt?'

oscar follows his gaze and ah. 'yes, it is.' he states and grabs stuck noodle n his t-shirt and promptly chunks it to the bin on his left. and because it's the best moment for it, as soon as he turns, he extends his hand in a greeting. 'i'm oscar, by the way.'

'lando,' guy - lando - says and dwarfs his hand in a firm handshake. 'sorry again. i kinda thought i'm all alone on this floor, it's always so quiet from your side.'

and - is he trying to strike up a conversation? oscar squints at him, trying to get a good read out of the guy in front. he came with a selfish intention to let out all his frustration on the poor guy but now he hovers awkwardly next to his door, unsure of how to proceed. there's friendly glint in those green eyes behind all the tiredness and oscar's mind is too slow right now to be adept for social cues. he should probably go now, but his mouth decides to blurt out: 'we go to the same uni' instead and his legs act like they are stuck on the place.

'oh really?' the whole 'lost puppy' thing gets turned to 'excited puppy' and oscar marvels at the sheer energy, because lando is barely standing upright but still manages to be sincerely excited. 'which year? which course? are you also getting ready for those stupid midterms? are you-' he stops and bites his lower lip, looking up at oscar with apologetic glance again. 'i totally disturbed your studying sessions, didn't i? i'm so sorry-'

'so you've said,' oscar interrupts, not unkindly but a bit more forcefully, so hopefully lando will get that he doesn't want to hear any more apologies. 'i'm in my second year, studying-'

'you wanna come in?' lando jumps and when oscar's face does this weird thing when both eyebrows stick together and sides of his mouth turn downwards, he quickly adds: 'unless standing here is more of your thing? i can bring chairs.' when oscar doesn't immediately answer, lando strikes with a king card: 'i've got food.'

oscar blinks. 'food?'

lando nods seriously. 'real one, too. not cup noodles.' at oscar's eyebrow raise, he chuckles. 'no offence mate, but i've got chicken teriyaki.'

oscar whistles lowly at that, his stomach grumbling just from the thought of it. 'living lavishly, i see.'

lando huffs a short laugh at that and his smile makes oscar feel a bit better for some reasons he is not ready to address. rubbing selfconsciously at the back of his neck, lando stares at oscar with a mixture of embarrassment and hope. 'is this too random? you can tell me to fuck off, sorry, i think i'm really out of it.'

lando continues to ramble about how his mind is not working well, but oscar quickly realizes that he doesn't look like seeing this look on lando. this 'i am so stupid' kind of look, which is such a drastic change to his excitement just minutes before - oscar very much prefers his neighbour with shiny eyes and lips quirked up in a cat-like shape than this. maybe this is the reason or maybe his mind joined lando's somewhere in the pit of this ground, but he takes one step forward, effectively cutting off lando's rambling. 'i hope you know what you agreed to, because i'm a starving engineer student and i will eat that chicken teriyaki without ounce of shame.'

at first he blinks in shock, but then lando recovers instantly, smiling widely and stepping back to let oscar in. as they level and their shoulders brush (or more, lando's shoulder brushes somewhere a little beneath oscar's shoulder, which he notes pleasantly), oscar feels two things: how the tight feeling in his chest disappeared and how actually tired he is. with brain-to-mouth filter gone, he mutters: 'just to be clear, i usually do not take invitations from cute random strangers at two am to eat their chicken teriyaki. i have much more dignity when i'm not sleep deprived.'

lando is very expressive, oscar realizes. his face comes with subtitles that are very easy to read and when his mouth curls up and eyes shine with mirth, oscar somehow knows he fucked up. 'lando norris, forth year, business major. not a stranger anymore, am i? just a cute neighbour.'

there's not even energy left in him to get shy, so oscar simply stays silently and comes in. he has no time to take a good look around, because lando's big hand is suddenly at his back, guiding him towards the kitchen, which smells heavenly. with salivated mouth he watches how lando heats up his plate and yawns loudly, forgetting to close his mouth. it's all a bit surrealistic, if oscar is honest, but the food definitely is very real and smells very good right in front of him. he's not the most social guy and even though he knows it'd be good for him to keep conversation going, all he manages is an honest: 'there's a high chance of me falling asleep somewhere between the second and third bite.'

he expects a lot of things, but lando's soft smile is not it. 'i can work with that,' is all he says, handing him fork with a knife.

and maybe it's supposed to be very weird and it probably is very weird, but oscar relaxes completely in the unfamiliar kitchen of a ten minute earlier met neighbour, eating delicious chicken and doing so in a comfortable silence. it definitely shouldn't feel this good or like he's doing this for hundredth time, but it does and oscar is too tired to logic his way out of this. lando next to him looks like way more relaxed too and it's a win, oscar thinks. when lando turns at him and smiles, muttering: 'tea?', looking at oscar like he likes having him here, like maybe he doesn't want oscar to go and is happy that they are neighbours, oscar thinks it's a win for both of them.

a/n: whoa, first ever f1 post *claps myself on the back*. after over a year writing for kpop only, this definitely feels a bit different, but good different. let me know how it went, please 🥺 if it's good, i'll be moving on to other pairings (thinking pierre x yuki or dan x max next!) and please come say hi and suggest your own pairings/love tropes! - nini

if someone here likes kpop group seventeen, then my writing list for them is here

writing list for f1 is here

p.s. this is heavily inspired by my favorite fic ever 'the condominium community committee' by @jusst-you-race so check it out!!

[glassartpeasants]

Killer angst drabble cause why not

gn!reader

~~~

You knew how much Kid meant to him. It was obvious from the start of the relationship. Anywhere Kid went, Killer was right behind him. They were best friends since childhood so who were you to try and split them apart? But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt.

There's been countless times where Killer has ditched you for Kid. He wouldn't even notify you that he wouldn't show up, he'd just stand you up. You tried to explain to Killer that it hurt your feelings and if he could at least let you know that he wouldn't show up. It lead to a huge fight. Words were said, tears were shed and it ended up with you two breaking up for a week or two.

You tried to ignore the heartbreak cause you didn't want to make the crew uncomfortable. Hell you even talked to some people about leaving the Kid Pirates. After all, Killer was the reason you joined. So now that you two weren't a thing anymore, there was no reason to be on the Victoria Punk. The tension was too thick for you.

Yet the moment you had gotten ready to pack your bags, Killer approached you. He promised he'd do better and that you did mean something to him. You believed him the first two months but then he slowly started going back to how it was. Which left you to where you are now, watching the stars with your bag in you lap as you sit on the railing.

"The city lights look inviting doesn't it? It's a pretty city and island. Maybe I can stay here until a ship shows up to take me home." Your heart burned at the thought of never hearing Killer's voice again. Even if you didn't want to admit it, a small part of you had been ready to leave since the huge fight. Knowing you'd always be in second, third, and fourth place for Killer. You'd never be his first priority, no matter what happens.

"Not even a competition, and you still won Eustass Kid." Whispering to yourself, your aware of the tears slowly falling down your face. A sad little laugh leaves your lips as you wipe the tears away.

"Your crying." Jumping from the sudden noise, you snap you head around and see your soon to be ex.

"Yeah. I guess I am." A seconds silence fell over the two if you.

"What's wrong?"

"Just settling on my final decision." Even without seeing his face, you knew he was puzzled.

"Which is?" Taking a deep breath, you respond.

"That I'm breaking up with you." Killer’s body tensed at your words. The glassy look in your eyes had him realizing that this wasn't a joke or prank.

"I'm sorry Killer, I knew that Kid was super important to you when we got together and I thought I could handle you spending almost all your time with Kid. Unfortunately I've realized that I cant." Your lips tremble as you try to gently smile.

"I don't want you to lose a friendship you've had since childhood just cause of me." You feel the Victoria Punk start to move away from the island.

"S-Shit (Y/N) I'm sorry. I know I've been ditching you and that I promised that I stopped and you have every right to be mad-"

"I'm not mad. At least not anymore."

"But you should be! You should be mad! I made you a promise and I broke it after saying I'd change. Why aren't you yelling at me?! Why aren't you mad that I lied to you?!"

"Because I love you." Killer could feel his heart beating fast as the weight of his actions finally hit him. He tried to speak yet nothing came out.

"And that's why I have to go. Life is about living and learning. And we simply learned that we weren't meant to be. But that's okay, you'll finally someone who works out better for you." You start to put on your bag to get ready to jump off the ship and onto the dock the Victoria Punk was moving away from. Killer grabs your hand and pulls himself closer to you.

"I don't want someone else, I want you. You and only you. Give me another chance please (Y/N)." Facing Killer and his mask, you press a kiss to where his lips would be. Tears flow down your face knowing that's the last kiss you'd ever give him.

"I better see your name in the newspaper often." Slipping tour hand away from his quickly, you whisper one last thing before jumping on the very last edge of the dock.

"Goodbye Massacre Soilder Killer. I love you." You land on the dock and watch the Victoria Punk sail past the dock. And you watch with a heavy heart as Killer starts running to the end of the ship to catch you while screaming to stop the ship.

He looked at you and screamed your name as he sailed farther and farther away, watching you wave him goodbye with tears in your eyes.

[dizzyjelly]

Better Than Him(18+)

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Your boyfriend Derek says something offensive about your bsf Abby, you get into a fight with him then Abby comforts you. Then she spends the night and you wake up after a spicy dream and you two get up to some fun.

Cw: rude bf, fighting, cheating, smut, thigh riding, pussy eating, slight overstimulation

It was a relaxing afternoon in your dorm as usual. You'd just been sat on your loveseat, your bestfriend Abby next to you. The both of you had been sitting in a comfortable silence for a while, when your phone buzzed. Abby glanced over for a second, trying to see who it'd been. But it wad out of her view. She wasn't too worried though. You rolled your eyes with a light scoff.

"It's Derek, asking me to come over." You told her.

"Just tell him you're busy." She shrugged, continuing to scroll through tiktok on her phone.

"Yeah, yeah, already on it." You responded.

Derek: Come over? I'm bored lol

You: Sorry, can't! Abbys hanging at my place rn

Derek: fr? Wtf

You: Wdym?

Derek: nothing. I just don't like her is all.

You: wth. Why.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your brows furrowing mostly with confusion and a bit of frustration. Sure, Derek never loved Abby, but he hadn't ever expressed negative feelings towards her before. Abby took notice to your change in demeanor, but decided not to say anything. Not yet at least.

It bothered you, what he'd said. Because she was your best friend after all. You guys had known each other since middle school, and he know how inexplicably close you were.

"Derek's being weird." You announced with a sigh as he typed.

"How?" Abby asked, setting her phone down as she leaned against the back of the couch and looked over at you.

"He said he didn't like you." You explained and looked back at her.

Immediately Abby felt confused, and a little annoyed. Because what the hell? She wasn't worried you'd choose him over her one bit, but it definitely bothered her hearing this. She tried to conceal the evident change in her mood, but you noticed anyways.

"Oh." Was all she said.

"I don't know what his fucking problem is." You responded, the frustration very evident in your voice.

Abby chewed at her thumbnail quietly as you were busy reading his response.

Derek: I mean she's honestly kind of a bitch and she's clearly obsessed with u lol. Idek why you're friends with her tbh.

You: you're kidding right? That is so fucking rude she's literally been my best friend for years how could u even say that?

You: I don't even wanna talk to you. Don't text me for a while.

Derek: what? Babe ur being dramatic, I'm just telling the truth.

And with that you silenced notifications from him and closed your messaging app. A bitter scoff fell from your lips as you shut your phone off and practically threw it into your lap. Abbys brows raised at this, intrigued at what he said to get you so upset.

"What? What did he say?" She asked, leaning closer to you.

"Nothing, don't worry about it. He's being an idiot. Let's just talk about anything else, please." You rolled your eyes, not even wanting to think about him.

Abby respected your wishes of course, instead talking about one of her class assignments. She ranted about how difficult it would be, and asked if you'd help her with it. You said yes of course. Then once she was bored of that she suggested watching a movie. You agreed and soon the two of you were under the covers in your bed, backs against the headboard.

You set your laptop up on your legs, giving each of you a nice and comfortable view. Abby would only ever suggest horror so you just let her pick the movie without sny protest. She settled on a movie called Lights Out. As per usual, you found yourself resting you head on her shoulder as you wrapped your hands around her forearm.

You always seeked comfort during scary movies, and she had no problem providing you with that. With every jumpscare you'd yelp and turn so your face was pressed against Abbys shoulder. She'd chuckled lightly at your scaredy-cat demeanor, which she'd tease you relentlessly for later. The movie was nearly over when somebody knocked at your door, you thought maybe it was your floor supervisor doing a check-in.

"Babe? Come on, please let me in." Then you heard his voice.

You let out an angry huff, pausing the movie and looking over at Abby. She crossed her arms as she sat uncomfortably, watching as you got uo reluctantly to answer the door.

"What? I said I didn't wanna talk to you." Your tone was harsh as you answered the door.

"I know I just-" he stopped when he caught a glimpse of Abby, in your bed, "she's still here? And why is she in your bed? What the fuck!" He exclaimed.

"Oh my God. We were watching a movie! Now what do you even want?" You asked, already beyond annoyed.

"Well, I just came to try and reason with you." He answered.

"Ok and how are you gonna do that? What you said way completely insulting, I'm not gonna hear you out on this." You chuckled bitterly, turning around and walking into your room more.

Unfortunately he'd followed you in, Abby had moved to the edge of your bed now. She was nervous, never having seen the two of you fight before. She'd only heard of arguments from you, never actually witnessed it firsthand.

"Come on, you have to admit there was some truth to what I said!" He yelled, having closed your door behind him.

"There's really not though! Not in my eyes at least, don't you have anything else to say?" You asked, clearly expecting an apology.

"Like what? If you're looking for a sorry I'm not giving you one." He spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He stood his ground, crossing his arms as he was frozen in place. You sighed, bringing a hand to your face, resting it over your eyes. Abby stood now, coming to your side. Derek scoffed at this.

"Hey, it's fine." She whispered in your ear, a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

"No it's not. I just want him out." You whispered back as you turned to face her, biting your lip nervously.

"Then just kick him out." She shrugged.

Your turned back around to face Derek, crossing your own arms as you stepped closer to him. He smiled at you smugly, clearly expecting something very different than what you were about to say.

"You need to leave. Get out, now." Your voice was stern.

"What? You're not serious." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah, I am. Just get the fuck out. I don't want you here!" You shouted at him now, throwing your arms into the air frustratedly.

"Whatever man." He rolled his eyes, exiting and slamming the door shut behind him.

A deep sigh fell from your lips as you felt exhausted and drained. You sat on your loveseat once again, your head falling into your hands as tears welled in your eyes. It wasn't really the fact you argued with him, you just felt overwhelmed. Which was the worst for you.

Abby frowned as you started to cry, sitting close next to you as she brought an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into her almost immediately, wrapping your arms around her and she did the same. She rubbed at your back soothingly as you cried into her chest.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine ok? I'm here." She spoke softly, and you just nodded.

Eventually you calmed down, and of course because Abby helped you. She'd offer to stay the night, which you enthusiastically agreed to. You'd give her a t-shirt to borrow, and she'd just leave her basketball shorts from the day on. Then you got yourself changed, comfortable in just panties and an oversized t-shirt that was just long enough to reach past your ass.

You let her get into bed first, shutting off the light then laughing as you practically fell on top of her when you got into bed. She laughed too, feeling her cheeks burn red hot at the feeling of your body against hers in such an intimate way. Her hands found their easy to rest on the small of your back, your own resting on her shoulders.

She thanked the lord you'd shut off the light because otherwise she's sure you'd see how hard she was blushing. Or how she bit her lip so damn hard it nearly bled. After a moment, you rolled over and face the wall.

"Go to bed you goof." You whispered out, pulling your blanket to your chin.

"Good night." Was Abbys response as she lied down, facing you.

"Night." You responded, closing your eyes.

You'd fall asleep in no time, meanwhile Abby was having trouble. She just stared at your back, the way your hair fell on your shoulders. It was hard to not let her mind wander to not so clean places. Not like she's never thought about you in that way before, but this time felt different.

You two had cuddled before sure, but something about earlier felt so much more tense. The way you didn't say anything, just lied there. Then she thought about Derek. She knew you guys had sex before, but just the though of it disgusted her.

Realistically, Abby knew she could give you so much better. But she wasn't even sure if you liked girls. And if you did, why would you like her? You were just best friends after all, and making things romantic could just ruin everything. She was willing her mind to shut off now, tossing and turning uncomfortably. Then she heard you gasp awake.

"Y/n? You ok?" She asked, turning to face you once again.

"Yeah, yeah. Just had a nightmare is all." You answered, breathing a bit heavily as you turned to face her.

"Aw, sorry." She brought a hand to rest on your shoulder.

"Thanks." You brought your hand to your shoulder as well, resting it atop hers.

"Do you wanna talk about it or anything?" She asked.

"No, no. Actually would you- could you just hold me?" You asked, your voice shaking the slightest with nerves.

"Yeah, of course." Abby answered, which had a sigh of relief falling past your lips.

She pulled you into her side, and you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around her as you buried your face into her. And then, you hiked your leg up over her own. Abby swore she might stop breathing as she could feel the material of your panties against her bare leg. It was like something out of a wet dream.

She wrapped her arms around you as her mind went wild. It took all her willpower not to ask to fuck you right then and there, but she managed. The both of you fell asleep within the next hour.

Usually when you'd cuddle with Abby, you'd sleep throughout the night. But tonight was different. You woke up at nearly two in the morning, trying to catch your breath and wondering why you felt so weird. Then you realized, you had a sex dream... about Abby! What the hell!

This was new and very surprising. You wouldn't expect that in a million years. Well, maybe that's a stretch, but still. It was hard not to notice how wet you were, surely a spot had formed on your panties by now. You let out a low whine as you nuzzle your face into Abbys neck, your lips pressed against the side of it.

"Abbyyy. Abby wake up." You whined, shaking her lightly by holding onto her shoulder.

You waited as she finally stirred awake, groaning as her hand rested on your back. She closed her eyes as she talked to you.

"What?" She asked, tired.

"Abby don't go back to sleep. I- I need you." You stuttered as you spoke, feeling embarrassed.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Her eyes were definitely open now.

"Like- I need you." You let out a small whimper.

Abby soon got your message loud and clear as you started to kiss along her neck, leaving one hickey for good measure. Her breath hitched as you continued, kissing along her jaw ten making your way to her pulse point. A low moan came from her as you began to lightly suck and nip at it.

"Y/n, I don't know if this is a good id-" You put a hand over her mouth as you began to straddle her, your hair falling so it tickled the sides of her face.

"Come on Abby. Let's just help each other out. It can be a one time thing if you want." You whispered in a sultry voice.

"Fuck, ok." She did not want it to be a one time thing, but she'd be damned if she didn't let this happen right now.

Abby brought her hands to your waist, and you leaned forward to connect your lips to her own. She let her hands roam your body as you deepened the kiss, moaning into her mouth when she slipped her tongue into yours. The way she swirled it around your own drove you crazy, it felt like you were seeing stars.

You let out a sigh as you sat up, throwing your head back with pleasure as Abby squeezed your plump ass. She then moved her hands to your thighs, moving them so that you only straddle her left thigh. You bit down at your bottom lip, a smile on your face as you stabilized yourself by putting your hands on her chest.

Ever so slowly, Abby began to grind your hips. It put a delicious pressure to your clit, even through your panties. It didn't take you long yo remove them though, your bare cunt now gliding beautifully against her upper thigh. She'd flex it every so often, causing you to moan even louder than you already were. Abby smiled, letting out a small groan at the feeling of your slick gathering on her thigh.

"Fuckkk Abby~ you dont even know h-how long I've wanted th-this." You stuttered on your words as her hand remained on your hips, continuing to help you as you grinded against her.

"Tell me about it." She chuckled, admiring you as your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hung open.

You brought your hands to Abbys shoulders now, your vocabulary consisting only of abbys name and a few curses. Given you weren't really talking much, mostly moaning pathetically as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release. A few more minutes passed and you knew if Abby kept going you'd cum.

"I'm gonna-" You moaned loudly, cutting yourself off, "gonna cum." You whined, gasping lightly.

"It's alright baby, go ahead. Come on, cum for me." She helped you continue as your hips stuttered.

And when you finally came, it was like you'd gone to heaven and back. You'd never felt this euphoric with anyone before. Abby smiled at you as you came down from your high, a small laugh falling past your lips.

You let out a quiet whine as you let your head fall to rest on her shoulder, her arms wrapped around you as you stayed sat in place. Abby rubbed her hands up and down your back, placing kisses along your cheek and down to the side of your neck.

"We done or did you wanna keep going?" She whispered.

"I definitely don't wanna stop." You whispered back, pulling your head up to kiss her on the lips.

Then you began to kiss her jaw, and down her neck. You went all along her collarbones, your hands running up and down her sides. You gazed up at her with a smile, brining your hands to the hem of her shirt and waiting for the ok. She nodded and lifted her arms, you pulled her shirt off and tossed it somewhere on the floor.

You brought your hands immediately to her tits, squeezing them gently then rolling her hard nippled between your fingers as you kissed down between them. You couldn’t help but laugh as you got her tummy and blew a raspberry on it. She laughed too.

"Wh- did you just blow a fuckin' raspberry down there?" She asked as she propped her elbows up on either side of herself.

"Maybe..." You answered shyly, chuckling.

"Just be quiet and let me do this." You spoke with some authority now.

"Yes ma'am.." She answered, closing her eyes as her head fell to rest on your pillows.

You'd kissed all the way down to the waistband of her shorts, looking up once again and waiting until she nodded before pulling both them and her panties off in one swift motion. Abby let out a deep moan as you licked a slow stripe up through her folds, collecting the majority of her slick onto the tip of your tongue. You groaned at the delightful taste of her.

Her moans grew louder as you wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking harshly before drawing figure 8's on it with the tip of your tongue. Then you shifted so you could bring a hand up, easily sliding in your middle and ring finger into her aching hole. Her breath stuttered as you curled your fingers, perfectly hitting her g-spot while continuing your assault on her clit.

Abbys hands gripped the sheets so hard her knuckles turned white, and she felt that familiar pressure building in her stomach. Unable to control herself, she jerked her hips forward and grinded onto your face. You let out a small moan, the vibration sending an entire new wave of pleasure to the blonde girl.

Her thighs closed instinctively as she reached her high, and you let them. Her chest rose and fell at a fast pace as she moaned and gasped through her blinding orgasm.

"Oh- God. I fucking love you Y/n." She moaned and your heart skipped a beat.

You didnt stop even after she came, until she used a hand to push you away, the overstimulation becoming too much to handle. You listened, pulling back with a sigh.

"Mm, fuck. Get up here and kiss me." Abby spoke breathlessly.

You listened immediately, crawling over top of her as you caged her between your arms. Your hands placed on the sheet as you leaned forward and sloppily kissed Abby. She whined at the taste of herself on your tongue, brining her hands to the back of your neck and tangling them in your hair. Once you pulled away your used the back of your hand to wipe her juices from your chin.

"Abby... I love you too." You spoke as you rested your forehead against hers.

She laughed, her hands now coming to hold your face lovingly. Her laughter was infectious as ever, causing small giggles to fall past your lips as well. You continued to giggle as she kissed each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your forehead, and then finally your lips.

"I'm gonna go get a washcloth, mkay?" You told her, already standing to make your way tonthe bathroom.

You came back to find Abby pulling her shirt back on. She smiled at you as you walked over to her, wiping both her thigh and between her legs. Then you cleaned yourself before tossing the washcloth into your hamper then putting a new pair of panties on. Abby put her own back on, letting her shorts stay on the floor.

Abby ran her hands through her hair, waiting for you to join her back into bed. She layed on her side and held her arms out for you. You wasted no time in curling up against her, wrapping your arms around her and nuzzling your face into her neck. Abby held you and rubbed your back until you both fell asleep again.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hi, I was the anon who requested the sh ask, would it ne possible to write something new? No pressure please though 🥺

Absolutely, you're not putting any pressure on me, love. I've said it many times before, if you need comfort, you come here and we'll give you whatever we can. Please remember you can go to my main's dms if you need to talk. - Jez

Papas self-harm comfort mini drabbles

TW: self-harm. blood. young Nihil's isn't exactly a good solution.

Primo

"Shh... Shh... It's alright, amore..." Primo held you tightly, letting you cry into his shoulder. He didn't care about getting dirty, he's seen blood before. He cared about you, though. "I'm here now. Let's take care of this, hm? I'm here, you're safe now."

He slowly guided you outside of the bathroom, where you've locked yourself earlier, and sat you on the edge of the bed as he got the first aid kit. He kept whispering hushed words of reassurance and small praises as he wrapped your wounds up. He gave small kisses to your hands, not caring that his own fingers were now stained with blood. He cared about you, not his fingers getting dirty.

"I'm here. I know you may not want to talk about it, especially now, but I'm here. If you ever decide to tell me, I'll listen." He promised, kissing your forehead. "I love you, okay? Please remember that. I know how difficult it can be to fight a battle with yourself. But you're not alone anymore, darling. No matter how your brain might be trying to trap you into thinking otherwise... I'll always be with you."

He held you tightly in his arms as you clinged to him, crying and apologizing over and over. You tried, you tried so hard, but you gave in and you were convinced he would be disappointed. But he wasn't. He could never be.

"I love you with all my heart, amore. Nothing can change that. I love you with all your strengths and weaknesses. You have my word." He whispered, holding you against him for as long as needed. He would always be here for you, no matter what.

Secondo

His first instinct is to literally rip the blade out of your hands and throw it in the corner as he presses you against his chest. He knows you're crying for more than one reason now, he knows he scared you. But at least you were safe. Your safety was his top priority.

"Let's take care of this first, alright?" He sighed softly, giving you one last comforting squeeze and a kiss on the top of your head. He adored you so much, he would do anything to help you. No matter what you did, he wanted to be there for you. "We're gonna patch you up, amore."

Takes you back to the bedroom and puts a large towel on the bed so you can sit down comfortably on clean sheets later. He's silent as he takes care of your wounds, kissing your hand when he finished. He was a gentleman, even in a situation like this.

"Would you like to talk about it?" He asked quietly as he kept holding your hand, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. He listened carefully to your weeping, holding you close to him. He was an old, grumpy man at this point, but he did his best to understand. And even if he didn't, he supported you.

He's a bitter and mean man, but he always cared about the people close to him. He had a hard time showing it sometimes, yes. But he would destroy the world just to see you smile. He'd raise Hell for you, if that meant an end to your tears. He'd do absolutely everything for you, he loved you with all his old, grumpy heart.

Terzo

"Come on now, amore. Give Papa the blade, okay?" He asked softly, extending his hand to you, trying to remain calm. He had a small, desperate smile on his face, hoping to get you to listen. You couldn't see it through your tears, but a few tears of his own threatened to escape his eyes. "Come on. You give me the blade and I'll give you a big hug? Hm? Sounds good?"

He walked over to you very slowly, gently taking the blade away. He didn't care about the blade, though, he cared about you, which was why he dropped the object and pulled you safely into his arms, squeezing you as hard as he could. There was a big chance he'd leave you bruised because of this, but it didn't matter. Your safety mattered the most to him right now.

For once, he didn't know what to say. He was shaking, petrified, powerless as he saw you cry at the self-inflicted injuries. He feels guilty for letting it happen. Did he miss a sign? Did he not realize you were asking for help?

He would focus on trying to find his errors, his mistakes... He'd focus on it so much he barely heard you quietly calling out his name with a tiny, whispered apology.

"Amore... Il mio tesoro più prezioso..." He kissed the top of your head. "You have nothing to apologize for... I should've been more observant, sí? I'm the one who should be sorry, I promise, I'll take better care of you..." He spoke to you in a quiet, soothing tone. "Let's take care care of these terrible wounds now, alright? And then we'll cuddle and get ice cream, sounds nice?"

Ever since that evening, Terzo has been even more affectionate and attentive. He would rather die than let you get hurt again.

Copia

"Amore...?" You could literally hear his heart breaking when he called out to you quietly. You wanted to cry even more now, not only because of everything that already happened, not because of your own pain... But because you made him upset. Because you heard him sniffle as he took a few unsteady steps towards you. "Please... Let's not do that anymore, okay?"

He knelt down next to you, taking the blade put of your hands, his own shaking as he panicked. He was terrified of what was happening. Of what happened to make you do something like this. Of his own ignorance, obliviousness, stupidity... Whatever it was that prevented him from reacting sooner.

You both wept as he held you in his arms, promising how it's gonna be okay soon. How he loves you and he'll take care of you. How he'll never let it happen again. And you just nodded, whimpering out apologies after apologies despite how much he assured you that you didn't do anything wrong. Because you didn't. It wasn't your fault. Something drove you go it. And he wanted to protect you, he really did.

"I love you, please remember that. I'll never leave you, okay?" He assured, gently holding your face in his hands and covering it with little kisses. "If you ever feel like this again, come to me first, I'll take care of you, I promise. I'll be there for you. I'll make sure you never have to do this again..."

And you nodded, letting his arms, kisses and words soothe you.

Old Nihil

He's an old man going senile. His world with you has always been perfect in his eyes. So perhaps that was why he was so shocked when the reality of it all hit him. Because his perfect world crashed. But this isn't about him... This is about you. Sweet, precious you... How long have you been hurting like this? How long did he remain oblivious to your pain and misery?

He slowly walked over to you and knelt down, gently holding your crying face in his hands and just looking into your eyes for a while before he gave you a short, sweet kiss.

"I'm sorry. I'll do better from now on." He promised in a whisper as he used his robe to gently wipe your tears away. "Now, let's get up and clean this mess, okay?"

He gave you, a smile in hopes it would make you feel better as he clumsily took care of your wounds. It took a bit, since his hands were shaking, but he did his best. And he kept telling you silly things to cheer you up, at least a little bit.

*I'm gonna do the paperwork tomorrow, come on, come to Papa, we're gonna cuddle and watch movies."

He didn't let go for the rest of the night. He wanted you close, he needed you close. He just couldn't wrap his head around why someone as amazing as you would harm yourself.

From that evening, he would make sure to always have some time for you everyday. To remind you how much he adres you.

He just wishes you could see yourself in the wonderful colors he sees you in.

Young Nihil

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

You flinched hearing him raise his voice as he ran over to you. Nihil ripped the blade our of your hands and pulled you close. You could feel his heart hammering in his chest, as if he was running a marathon. You didn't realize it yet, but he wasn't yelling because he was mad. He was yelling because he was scared. The love of his life was kneeling on the floor and bleeding! How was he not supposed to freak out?!

"Listen to me now, okay? You... You don't fucking do that..." He breathed out, pressing you against his chest like you'd disappear of he were to ever let go. "You don't..."

He easily picked you up and carried you to bed, still breathing heavily, even though he carried you multiple times before. He wasn't tired. He was scared. He was scared of losing you. He would rather die than let you get hurt.

He hated that he was powerless in this situation. He wanted to do something, anything to help you. But he was just an old (even if he always insisted that being in his fifties didn't make him that old) bastard who couldn't even handle his own emotions most of the time.

But here he was, craddling you in bed and hoping to soothe you somehow. To un-break your heart. If only he could do something, if only he could...

"Next time, hit me instead, got it? If one of us is gonna get hurt, it better be me."

It was a terrible, unhealthy idea, yes. But he was desperate and had no time to figure anything else out. He'll find a better solution soon, he promises. But for now... For now this will have to do. For now this was the only way he could think of that could somehow transfer your pain onto him. And he wanted to take it all if it meant he'd get to see you smile.

Taglist: @sirlsplayland @firefirevampire @thatoddboy @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess (send an ask if you'd like to be added! read the pinned post before asking!)

[oliversrarebooks]

Prompt: Fitz using his vampire mind control powers for the first time and perhaps having PTSD flashbacks to Lily brainwashing him.

It really isn't Lily that Fitz has PTSD flashbacks to - at least not primarily. Which means that instead of Fitz's first time using his powers, I decided to write about a somewhat later time when Fitz's fears plagued him...

Masterlist

September 1910

TW: mind control, blood drinking, PTSD, self-loathing, mentions of blood

It was a bad night even before the puppets showed up.

In fact, it was destined to be a bad night ever since Fitz had happened to glance at the calendar and realize that it was the anniversary of the day he'd been taken from Lex. He immediately tried to push that sordid knowledge from his mind, knowing that it would result in nothing but a lot of pointless anxiety. 

The thin scars lining his hands itched and ached regardless.

And that was before he realized that the act booked to go on before him was a fucking puppet show of all things. As he waited in the wings, peeking out the curtain, he watched as the near-life-size wooden puppets twitched and danced. 

He tried not to feel the strings tightening around his own wrists and neck, forcing sore, tired limbs to move against his will. He tried to fight the urge for his own feet to twitch in uncontrollable rhythm. He tried not to hear the cruel whisper in his ear, pouring cold terror into his unresisting mind as his Master listed every trivial mistake.

One of the puppets was a ballerina, twirling in a graceful pirouette. Some of his fellow thralls had been ballerinas, too, delicate feet bleeding on the dance floor.

A sick dizziness washed over him. He felt detached from reality as he fought the urge to sink to his knees and grovel to his Master for a leniency that was rarely granted. The words were bubbling up in his rapidly tightening throat as he swayed and gripped a curtain to remain upright.

"Mr. Fitz?"

"Master," he murmured. "Master, please, I'm trying --"

"Mr. Fitz, hey. Are you okay, mate?"

The stage fell back into place around Fitz as he snapped out of the self-inflicted trance he'd been in. One of the stagehands, a scrawny boy of no more than nineteen, was pulling on his sleeve. "You look pale as the dead, mister," he said, with innocent concern. "Are you all right? You're going to need to go on in a few."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, mustering up a smile that he was sure looked ghastly. The show needed to go on, after all.

---

Fitz somehow managed to hold himself together for an entire act. From the audience's delighted reaction, they didn't suspect a thing wrong. They couldn't hear the whispered memories tugging at Fitz's mind every time his focus slipped an inch, and thank the devil for that.

He slouched in his dressing room chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He had no reason to be so irrationally frightened of a threat that was an ocean away and several years removed. This time, when he criticized himself, it was his own voice and not the Maestro's --

Pull it together. God, you're fucking useless. Getting turned didn't cure you of that, now did it?

There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," said Fitz, putting his smile back on, happy to have any distraction from his own wretched thoughts.

A young man in a stylish blue suit slipped in the doorway. He had big, dark eyes, the kind you could lose yourself in, and a gentle smile. A handsome man, one of Fitz's favorite sorts of distraction.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Fitz," said the young man. "My name is Charlie, and I'm a big fan of magic. I really enjoyed your act this evening, and the stagehand told me I could come backstage to meet you."

Bless the innocent stagehand and his excellent instincts. Not only was the man handsome, but he also smelled like a treat. A bit of blood would do wonders for healing his addled mind. 

"Yes, of course. Excellent taste!" said Fitz with a grin and a wink. "Have a seat. I appreciate the company, especially from a fan like yourself."

Fitz turned his vampiric charm on a low hum, not enough to exert any real control, just enough to set the man at ease and draw him in. He'd been a natural at it right off the bat, as soon as he'd recovered from the turning and the injuries inflicted upon him. He could already see the relaxed smile spreading across Charlie's face, the way he leaned in closer to Fitz as he sat.

"Can I ask how you do any of your tricks, or do you never reveal your secrets?" Charlie asked. "Especially the one with the two chairs."

"Oh, it's a secret," said Fitz, leaning in closer himself. "I can give you a hint -- only one of the chairs has a real back to it."

"Oh yeah?" 

"Mmmhmm. What else did you like about my act? I'm always eager to hear some praise, you know."

"I liked the part with the fishtanks. It was very suspenseful. And the bit where you escaped the handcuffs..." Charlie's eyes were going a little glassy. Perfect.

Fitz reached in and touched the man's hair, meeting with no resistance. Such an easy mark. "Very good," he said, physical contact allowing him to weave his real power around the man's mind, soothing him and promoting feelings of blissful pleasure.

"Very good," Charlie agreed, slowly nodding, losing himself in it already.

Fitz's treacherous, anxious mind supplied him with a vision a backstage dressing room years ago, the one where Lily had mesmerized him and sealed his fate. How it had felt to be helpless against a vampire's power.

Annoyed, he pushed it aside. This wasn't like that. He was the vampire now and he was fully in control. He wasn't packing this man off to one of those nasty auction houses, he was just taking a little taste. Charlie clearly had plenty of blood he wouldn't miss.

"Tell me, Charlie," Fitz said with a wicked grin that he knew would make his fangs obvious. "If you're such a devoted fan, would you mind parting with a bit of your blood? Just enough for a little snack, nothing that will do you any harm."

There was only the briefest of resistance before Charlie's head bobbed in an eager nod. "Sure, Mr. Fitz, that'd be just... perfect..."

Perfect.

The word rang through Fitz's head.

I'm trying! I'm trying, Master, please, I'm trying!

If you were actually trying, it would be perfect.

The puppet string tightened around his neck, his old scars feeling like they were on fire.

"No," he whispered, pushing the stranger away and falling to the floor, his stool overturning. "No, no, please, Master, I can't do it any more, I can't -- "

The stranger blinked and looked down at Fitz in confusion. "Are you all right? There might be something in the air here, I was feeling so strange --"

"Go," said Fitz, pushing the stranger away with the same force he'd used to draw him closer. "Leave me!"

The stranger couldn't scramble out of the dressing room fast enough, leaving Fitz to curl up in a miserable, pathetic heap on the floor, cowering before a Master that only existed in his head. He could feel the dank chill of the Maestro's practice room, the scrapes on his knees as he groveled on the floor, the sharp cuts where the fine, cruel silver knife had marred his skin --

Feeling desperate and pitiful, there was only a brief argument in his mind before he relented and sought out Lex. His mind traversed the familiar connection between sire and sireling, the one Lex was so careful never to abuse. Fitz hated leaning on his old love to soothe his troubled mind, but on a really bad night like this --

The connection was always weak from the sireling's end, so all he could send was feelings and vague impressions. Puppets. Knives. Fear.

The response was immediate. Are you okay? What's happening? Didn't you have a show tonight?

Fitz swallowed and tried to convey that he was fine in the practical sense, just having terrible waking nightmares.

He was rewarded when his mind was flooded with a cool, soothing calm, washing away his fear and pain. His muscles unclenched. His shaking subsided. He was able to sit up, leaning against the wall, drinking in the comfort Lex was providing him from afar.

He hated to do it. After all, this situation was largely his fault, no matter how much Lex tried to convince him it wasn't. He should be the one comforting his love. But he was weak. Even as a vampire, he was so fucking weak.

Masterlist

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable

[apocalypseornaw]

Bad Idea

Bobby told you to stay away from Sam. You knew he wasn't the same man you'd known after Dean's death, you knew he was involved with Ruby but despite all of that you had to make one final plea rather to say goodbye or remind him of who he was

Warnings: cursing,mention of blood drinking?, NSFW stuff happening

It'd taken you two days to track Sam down between hunts. You weren't sure what you would say when you got to him or even if he'd speak to you, chances were Ruby was following him around like an annoying evil bitch of a puppy that you'd love nothing more than to stab with her own knife.

You pulled up to the outside of a motel that couldn't be described as anything but shitty and you had squatted in a few abandoned houses with the boys and Bobby in the past on hunts. You weren't sure what to expect but you parked your mustang next to the impala which would always be easy to spot. You'd called ahead and had luckily guessed what alias Sam had used.

You locked your car then walked to the door of room two fifty five. You owed it to Dean and to Sam to at least try to get him to come to Bobby's with you. You knocked after checking that you had holy water in your jacket pocket and the feel of your gun at your back was a familiar weight.

----------

A moment later the door opened to reveal a haggard looking Sam. Dark circles under his eyes along with a hollow look in them. It hurt you to see him like this. "Y/N what are you doing here? How did you find me?" You pushed past him into the room, clocking every corner to ensure it was just him before you said "I may not be Dean but I do know you pretty well"

He raised both eyebrows slightly then a smirk almost appeared on his face but he quickly buried it "Well you found me. What do you want? I mean I'm not coming back to Bobby's" you nodded turning to face him "I figured that. Look I just wanna talk. Is it just gonna be you? I mean can I take my jacket off or am I gonna have to fight that black eyed skank before the night's out, cause honestly I haven't been having the best last few weeks either so I'm down to play either way"

He laughed at that, the sound was a hollow echo of his usual laugh. "She's not coming here" you nodded. You pulled your jacket off and draped it across his duffle bag. "Gonna lay your gun down or am I a threat?" You shrugged "I don't want to consider you a threat" you laid the gun down on top of your jacket then turned to face him. He wasn't high, he looked like maybe he'd hit withdraws, rather lack of blood from Ruby not being around or his own choice you weren't sure.

----------

"Why are you doing this Sam? I get it, losing Dean hurt. Hell it hurt me and Bobby too" he cut you off by shaking his head "Y/N no offense but you didn't watch your only family get ripped to shreds by a hellhound because he made a deal to save your life"

His words hurt on some level of course but you knew the Winchesters well enough to know their defense mechanisms. "He might have been your only blood left but he's not your only family Sam. I'm here, Bobby would be there for you. We love you"

He took a step towards you and it took everything in you to keep your feet planted. He wouldn't normally be a threat to you but this Sam? The air around him felt off, wrong. He wasn't quite the man you'd known for years but you knew that man was still in there. "Then why did you just drop into a fighting stance?" He asked glancing down towards your body. You hadn't realized you moved until he pointed it out, you'd done it on instinct alone.

"I haven't seen you in weeks Sam. I want to trust that I'm safe with you but some of the choices you're making doesn't help" He nodded stepping even closer to you and this time you allowed yourself the movement of stepping back, putting breathing room between you and him put also putting your back to a wall.

----------

You glanced towards your jacket and the gun that laid atop it. You had a knife stuck into your boot but could you really use it on Sam?

He chuckled darkly placing a hand on either side of your head meaning he effectively had you trapped between his body and the wall "You forgetting I know you too? You just clocked your gun and the knife that's in your left boot" the last words he spoke you could feel his warm breath fanning over your neck "Could you kill me? Be honest"

You turned to meet his eyes. Fuck he was close and despite everything you could feel your stomach jerk when his eyes trailed over your body. Why the hell had you come here alone? You swallowed hard "To save my life? Yeah I could kill you" he smiled "I've always loved that damn fire about you"

His head lowered to your neck, causing a gasp to escape you when his tongue flicked out over your pulse point. "I've always thought about how it would be" "What?" You asked, trying to control your breathing. This wasn't how you expected the night to go.

---------

He leaned back to be eye to eye with you "Why did you really come here? When I know for a fact Bobby would've told you not to, that I'm too unpredictable and unreliable now" "I couldn't say goodbye to you without it being face to face" you replied and he smiled again "So you're here to say goodbye?"

You nodded, your gaze flicking down to his lips then back up to his eyes. "Yeah, I am" "I don't think that's all you want" you couldn't think straight. So much had happened in such a short time. You'd fucking missed him so much and damn you'd wanted him for years.

"Fuck it" you muttered before pulling him down to you. The moment your lips touched his he groaned into the kiss. You tangled your fingers into his hair tugging roughly as he deepened the kiss, rolling his tongue against yours. His large hands gripped your hips tightly causing you to gasp against his lips.

He broke away from you long enough to rest his forehead against yours "You want this?" You nodded, not trusting your voice but he shook his head "Verbal confirmation Y/N" "I want this" you spoke and he grinned "Good"

His hands went to the hem of your shirt and you moved to help him pull it over your head. He chucked the thin material behind him then leaned down to take one of your clothed breasts into his mouth. "Fuck Sam" you groaned, feeling your knees weaken and the wetness between your legs grow. He smiled against your chest "I love that"

---------

Before you knew it he had your bra off along with his shirt and was moving to pull your jeans off your legs. "I'll take my time later but right now I want to feel that pretty little pussy stretched around me"

He kicked his jeans off then picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and lining himself up with your opening "You're sure?" He asked one final time "Just fuck me Sam" you begged and that was all it took. He buried himself inside of you with one thrust.

Your head fell back in a silent scream. Fuck he was big. He moved to support your back against the wall, catching your lips in a hungry kiss while he let you adjust to him. You chased his lips even as he pulled back to look at your face "I'm good. Just move please"

----------

He sat a grueling pace, each thrust of his hips making you see stars despite the chances of your back being bruised the following day from it digging into the wall behind you.

Your fingers dug into his forearms, looking for something to ground yourself amongst the pleasure coursing through your body. "Can you take more baby?" He asked and you nodded "I can take it" he shifted his hips just slightly but it was enough to push you over the edge. Your vision went hazy around the edges when your orgasm washed over you, your fingernails biting into his skin.

You could feel his thrusts getting sloppily and knew he was close. You moved your hand just enough to push his sweat soaked hair out his face "Come for me Sam. Fill me up, let me feel it" at your words his thrusts got harder and faster, his eyes screwed shut as he chased that release. His hands were gripping you hard enough to leave bruises but you didn't care. When he buried himself deep inside of you with one final thrust the feeling of his release pushed you over the edge causing you to tighten around him as another orgasm washed through you.

He laughed breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours "Was that our goodbye or can I have a little more time with you?" You turned your head to catch his lips in a lingering kiss "You can have a little more time"

---------

He turned with you in his arms to walk over to the bed. He laid you down, gently pulling out "I was hoping I'd get a little longer with you if this is goodbye" you reached for his hand and pulled him onto the bed with you "No more talking"

The only proof Sam had of the night between you and him ever happening was a letter he found a week later in his jacket pocket that read "Find me if you figure out where you truly belong"

He shoved it back into his pocket before following Ruby out the door of the place he was currently squatting at. He had to do things his way and you deserved better than he could give.

Part 2

[angrelysimpping]

Solitary pt 2

Yes, hello, I continue to be totally normal for 💜@rotting-ink ‘s💜 game, mhm mhm

Continuation of this

AMAB Aguilar (he/him); GN Witch/Reader (you/your); Other Prisoner/Other Origin Character (they/them)

Contents: noncon; past noncon; dubcon; DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT; fake consent; oral, reader giving; oral, reader receiving; penetrative sex, reader receiving; fingering, reader receiving; cum eating; demon contracts; power imbalances; group sex; multiple partners; co-dependence; prison sex; talked about: somno, mindbreak, choking; virginity loss

Words: 5124

How long had you been kept in solitary now? At least a few days but surly not a full week yet. 

It helped that you weren't truly alone. Aguilar had thrown you in here with another prisoner. 

Still, it was hell on earth. When you weren't being abused by the prison guard, you were forced to watch him have his way with the other prisoner. Or, worse still, he'd have you to ‘play’ together. Then he’d sit back, eyes burning into your skin as he watched and idly stroked himself until he got bored, grabbing one of you to ‘relieve’ himself.

You'd consider them a friend at this point, even if they refused to tell you their name, or to hear yours. They'd tried to explain it to you, once, how it'd make things too real for them, but they'd stumbled over their words, voice horse from having their throat fucked raw. 

It wasn't getting better. Nothing was. Every time Aguilar visited, he'd find some new way to break you both, and you could see it wearing your friend down. They'd never been a fighter, always meekly submitting to Aguilar's commands in the hopes that doing so would mean they'd earn less of the guard's ‘attentions.’ It never worked. Nothing worked. Not fighting and not submitting. It was truly useless. 

And now, they were somehow…less. Not just their body, thinning day by day on the watery gruel the prison allowed you. But less…themself. Their eyes would go blank as Aguilar manhandled them, yet tears would still streak down their cheeks. 

It…it’s more than disturbing to witness and more than once you've wondered what would have happened if they weren't here. Not only because Aguilar's full attention would have fallen on you, but also because, in a way, they were keeping you together. If it wasn't for trying to keep a strong front for them, you're sure you would've shattered by now. Would have become nothing more than an obedient pet, a broken toy, a shell of the person you were. 

You were being eroded, will ground down into nothingness. You both were. Having each other slowed the process, if ever so slightly. 

It's that thought that gives you the idea. 

He'd said it, once. Unnerving pale eyes piercing you as he'd laughed, talked about breaking you. Said how he wanted you to grind against each other while begging for his cock. The idea still makes your skin crawl, but…

They agree to it. That's all you needed. Besides, you quite like them. They're familiar to you, after this shared nightmare. It even feels…right, almost, when your mouth meets theirs. 

It breaks your heart a little how they kiss now, licking into your mouth with an eagerness. You'd been their first kiss, shared in a stolen moment of comfort. They'd been awkward, hesitant and shy as they tried to mimic how your mouth moved. Now, they kiss you the way he likes it, desperate and messy. 

Yet, they slow down, seeming to relax as you press them back against the thin cot you shared. It made a slow warmth spread through you, their arms lazily draped over your shoulders as you kissed down their jaw. They knew you, knew what they had to do, and they trusted you. They trusted you to help them, to touch them. 

It's all for show. That's it. Aguilar never lets you go too long without his torments. He'll show up soon and if you want to make this work, you have to look like you were both finally giving in. Just a trick, a way to make him let his guard down. 

But, their leg hooks around your waist, pulling you down so your body is pressed to theirs. Hips rolling up, they grind against you, making your breath hitch. 

You want to jerk back, to stop them. Remind them what this is, only an illusion. You don't. You can’t. Pressing a kiss to their throat, you sigh against their skin, “We don't have to actually-”

They cut you off, “But we could.” They grind against you again, sparks of pleasure alighting down your spine. “We could feel good for a little bit, together.”

It's a point they don't need to argue. You're more than willing to have your mind taken off the horrible situation you're in. Instead of answering them, you slot a knee between their thighs and press up against their groin. They groan, a small sound you've never heard from them before. Pleasure. Plain and simple. Not painted around the edges of pain and humiliation. Not buried in self hatred and guilt. No, not a speck of hurt. Just pleasure.  

You want to hear more. 

Hands gliding over their sides, they shiver at the gentle touch, a breathy laugh sliding past their lips. The prison tunic they wear is more a rag than clothing at this point, having had it torn from their body so many times. Still, you hesitate as you finger the hem.

“Is this okay?”

They respond by gripping the collar of their shirt, starting to pull off the tunic themself and you can't help but laugh. It's a light sound, unheard of in these walls. A noise you never thought you’d make again. 

You help them pull the tunic off, pressing a quick kiss to their cheek that travels down. Lips brush over their collar bone, press against their sternum, humming against their skin. They shiver, and you can’t help but remember that, before all of this, they were a virgin. Had they been totally inexperienced? Was this their first time with how these intimate moments could actually be? Gentle and soft? You want to shove the thought out of your head, but you can’t. You don’t want to cause them more pain in any way, not right now. You don’t want to be like him.

Carefully, you find a tender nipple, giving the often bit bud a delicate kiss. “Tell me if anything hurts?”  

They make a small sound in agreement, nodding slightly, their eyes soft as they gaze down at you. 

You take your time, keeping your knee pressed against their groin as you slowly map out their body. Hands travel over their chest, their stomach, their sides. You’ve seen each other stripped of clothing countless times now, but this is different. This is safe. Of course, they’re littered with bruises and bites. You’re sure your body bears the same marks. Aguilar seemed to delight in biting, marking, but he had his favorites. Chests, stomachs. 

Nipples. Even as you try to force him from your mind, you have to stay aware of the ways he’s hurt you both. 

Their nipples look raw, almost. Bruised. You can’t find out if they’d like them touched, if they’d gasp if you sucked one into your mouth. Maybe later, if there ever is a later, you’ll get to find that out. As it is, you give each bud a kiss before making your way down. 

In a way, you want to erase the past. Who wouldn’t, with what you’ve experienced? Each bruise and healing bite you find as you move down their stomach, you kiss. A weak effort to replace the wickedness done to them, yet it’s the only thing you can do. A baptism of sorts, along their ribs, over the curve of hip, the dip of belly button.  

You pause again when you reach the fabric of their trousers. They seem to intuit your hesitancy, quickly shucking off the ripped garment before you can even ask their permission. 

Even as warmth spreads through you, your heart aches. Their thighs are a mess. More bruises and bites, now punctuated with the crescent moons of nails that had dug into their skin, pierced the delicate flesh and drew blood. You don’t hesitate, pressing a kiss to each injury you find while your hand cups their sex. They arch into your touch, small gasps sliding past their lips. 

You’re not trying to heal yourself with these acts, each second of warm skin under your lips feels like a soothing balm to your own nerves. You can only hope it’s the same for them. 

As you kiss, you toy with their sex, movements almost lazy. They squirm against you, breathing getting louder in the small room before their warm, soft hand finds the back of your head. Looking up at them, your heart thuds painfully in your chest. Their face is hot, eyes hazy and lips parted as they pant. 

“Can…can you?” Stumbling over their own words, their nails dig into the back of your scalp as they frown, more of a pout than anything, brows knitting together. They try to find how to articulate their desires before giving up with a low whine, licking their lips before shooting you a pleading look and whispering a soft “Please?” 

You think you know what they're asking for, and you're more than happy to oblige. 

Your mouth replaces the hand on their groin. 

With all the harshness you've both endured in this cell, you opt to take your time. Each lick slow and pointed, wanting to give them the attention they truly deserved, to taste every part of them at a leisurely pace. Tongue swirling around them, they mewl, a soft, sweet sound that sends a bolt of warmth shooting through you to pool between your thighs. 

Their essence spreads over your tongue like honey, the grip on the back of your head growing tighter as they try to keep from bucking into your mouth. Head growing fuzzy from the intoxicating mixture that was their taste, their voice, their touch, you dip down to lap at their hole. 

You can’t help but smile as they jerk against you. They mutter something under their breath, something that sounds suspiciously like another plea. You lick back up from their hole slowly, tongue trailing along their slit, collecting their precum. Lips seal around their tip, you suck idly and they moan low in the back of their throat, arching off the bed. Then, you delve back down, feasting upon them, licking into their hole as if possessed. 

They squeal. Control snapping, they rut against your face, legs trembling as your tongue twists into them. The only thing that keeps their thighs from clamping around your head, crushing you in a way you’re sure would be beyond bliss, is your gentle, yet firm grip. Even though you can visibly see them losing weight due to this place; plush, warm skin spills between your fingers as you hold them back. You want to smile, to laugh, but you fight the urge. It'd break the spell they're under, you think, if you had to pause now, if you didn't keep lapping at their soft hole. 

Of course, Aguilar doesn't care about any of that as he rips you away from them, off the bed, collar of your shirt digging sharply into your throat and nearly strangling you with his force. 

“Don't think I remember saying you could play without me?” His voice is low, dangerous, pale eyes flashing as he stares you down. 

For a moment, you don't remember your plan. You don't remember that this all started as a way to make this wretched prison guard think he'd succeeded in breaking you, turning you both into nothing but mindless toys, in hopes of getting him to let his guard down. All you can think of is launching yourself at him, ripping at his face, biting at his throat, screaming and tearing and acting like the savage animal that you'd been accused of being when they'd thrown you into this hell on earth, even if it meant getting beat within an inch of your life. 

And you would. You know you're not stronger than him. You'd end up with blood filling your mouth and his cock forced into your dry hole, but it'd be worth it. 

He sees it. He sees the rage in your eyes. Gripping your chin, rough fingers burning where they meet your skin, he squeezes until your bones groan, forcing you to keep eye contact as he growls, “What do you think you're doing?”  Venom drips from his words, sliding over your skin and curling around your spine.

A small sound from the bed drags his attention from you. There they are, your friend. They're propped up on their elbows, legs still splayed open yet the soft look in their eyes is gone, replaced with a hard nervousness. “W-we missed you.” Their voice is small, thin. You almost can't hear it over the adrenaline pumping through you, but you do. And the plan comes back to you. Your own plan that you'd just about thrown away. 

Could the fury in your eyes have been mistaken for lust? The tension in your body interpreted as restrained desire? You can only hope. 

With the way you've already put the plan in jeopardy, you take a risk. You reach out, touching Aguilar. Some part of you thinks that touching him like this, fingers gently splayed along his jaw, should hurt. That his skin against yours should burn and spark and smolder. Yet, it doesn’t. For the monster he acts, he is, somehow, human. For the unaware, it might even look like a lover’s touch as you softly guide the guard to look away from the bed, to face you instead.

“We missed you” you echo, “...Sir.” 

A slow smile spreads across his face. His unnerving eyes bore into yours as you try to keep from giving away your true feelings, steeling yourself for what you have to do next. 

You kiss him. 

His tongue invades your mouth immediately, and you have to fight back the urge to choke, to try to push him or squirm away. You try to picture someone else, anyone else, even as your free hand goes to his deceptively soft, cropped, brown hair, pulling him closer still. 

He’s still kissing you as he sits on the bed. For a moment, panic blares through your body, every nerve alight as he pulls you into his lap. That panic is soothed as your friend joins you, body pressed to yours, their chest to your back, and murmuring encouragement against your skin. 

They’re a breath of fresh air amongst the suffocation that is being held by Aguilar. It’s too much. His tongue down your throat. His hands roaming your body, pulling at your clothes, your shirt up, over your head, your trousers down until you had to squirm out of them lest they were torn to shreds. His cock tenting his trousers and pressing against you. Without them, their mouth on your neck, voice in your ears, you wouldn’t be able to do this. You wouldn’t be able to fake desire, or to undo his trousers. Wouldn’t be able to palm his cock, jerk him off, working him until he was fully erect, grinding yourself against him as if you actually wanted this. 

You would break down, if it wasn’t for their hands over yours and helping you work his thick cock, their free hand sliding over your skin, fingers gently prodding at your hole before sliding inside. Aguilar swallows the gasp that leaves you as you’re fingered open. This isn’t the first time you’ve been fucked in this cell, yet this is different. Even as you wrap your arms around Agular’s broad shoulders, cling to him as he all but tongue fucks your throat, this is different. This is them, your friend. Their fingers curling inside you almost experimentally, touch soft and warm. Affectionate. They dip down, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades, your spine, before you feel the wet muscle of their tongue swipe over your hole. 

Shuddering, you break the kiss. Aguilar lets out a low chuckle, his mouth free to roam, teeth dragging over your skin and nipping at fading bruises. Yet, you don’t regret it. You groan low, deep in the back of your throat. Head lolling forward, you let your brow rest on Aguilar’s shoulder as you shift your weight to your knees, giving them better access to your hole. 

Each lick is slow, cautious. This is the first time they’ve ever really got to take their time when doing something like this. With Aguilar, it was never slow. He’d fuck your throat, your knees on the cold, hard ground and hand on the back of your head, nails digging into your scalp, keeping you from even thinking from moving back. Or, he’d command one of you to lick at the other's hole to get them ready for his cock. He never gave you enough time, and you’d both rush to try to get the other as prepared as possible. This wasn't one of those frenzied, fear fueled moments. 

Despite it all, you’re aroused. You’re actually aroused right now: full of desire and want; tension building inside you, craving a release; precum starting to bead along your slit; and it’s because of them.

Heat flutters in the pit of your stomach, and it can’t be quelled by Aguilar’s presence. Even with his teeth in your skin, with his scent filling your lungs, his cock hot and heavy in your hand: he can’t ruin this. 

Their fingers slide over your sex, collecting precum before slipping back inside your hole. Scissoring their fingers, they stretch you out. Their tongue slips into you, and a tiny whine slips from your lips. You can feel the rumble of Aguilar’s laugh at the pathetic sound, something you’re sure you’ve never made before in this room. It makes you falter, hand pausing in stoking Aguilar’s cock.     

“Getting distracted by your friend, pretty thing?” He coos, voice thick, syrupy and full of rot as you struggle to remain focused. “Finally learned how to use their sweet tongue, huh?” His voice is nearly a purr, one that grates against your bones. “You help them with that? Practicing for me?”

You want to kiss him again, purely so you have the chance to bite his tongue right out of his mouth. As it is, you just nod weakly, feeding into the lie.  Rolling the pad of your thumb over his tip, you collect the thick precum leaking from his slit. You resume moving your hand, now slicked up even more with his own fluids. Even though you want this over with as quickly as possible, it’ll go easier this way. 

Yet, it’s still all too soon before he’s shoving your friend away, guiding his cock to your entrance. You don't let him bully the thing into you, instead sinking down his length yourself even as it forces the air from your lungs in a harsh gasp. The grin he gives you makes your stomach twist, hands on your hips giving you an almost teasing squeeze before you start to move.

In this cell, there are no first. You’ve ridden him before. It’s one of his favorite things to do, force you to fuck yourself on his cock. He seemed to enjoy it more when you struggled. When your friend, inexperienced as they were in sexual matters, ended up collapsing against him, thighs shaking and unable to support their own weight? He’d laughed, grabbed their hips hard enough to bruise before fucking up into them. When your body ached from the abuse he’d just put you through and left you too exhausted to ride him properly? He’d teased that he was just too big, that you’d forgotten how to be a good toy, before lifting you up and dropping you on his cock until you’d made yourself move again to avoid the organ bruising treatment.

With how many times you’ve had to ride him, bounce yourself on his cock until he filled you up and tossed you aside, you still struggle to find a rhythm. Infuriatingly, it was partially because he was right. He was big, pressing against your insides in ways you hated. That is, ways that were pleasurable. You didn’t want him to bring you pleasure, didn’t want to cum on his cock, yet trying to angle yourself so his dick wouldn’t hit those spots inside you seemed impossible. But, also, you were weak. Kept in this cell, fed poor food. It was all designed to keep you from trying to escape but had the added detriment of leaving you sapped of strength. And it was strength you needed to move yourself in any way that would make this horrid situation end.

Aguilar doesn’t mind, though. Smug grin stretched across his face as those eyes you loathed took in your struggles. No, he seems content to watch you. Or, almost content.

His eyes leave you, and he reaches out to the other prisoner, beckoning them closer. “Come here.” It’s a command they could only obey. 

The moment they’re within reach, he grabs them, yanking them into a bruising kiss. You swear you can hear their teeth click against his with the force of his kiss. His hand snakes between their legs, toying with their sex before searching out their hole. They yelp into his mouth as two fingers are thrust into them without warning, and he breaks the kiss with a laugh. “Fuck yourself on my fingers and pretend it’s my cock, sweetheart.” The way he says ‘sweetheart’ makes your skin prickle, bile rising in your throat. 

Without thinking, you cup his face in your hands.

You see the anger flash in his eyes as you turn him towards you, but you try your best to distract him, to keep him from tormenting them.

“P-Please,” you gasp, chagrined by how you stutter when the fat head of his cock hits a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. But, it helps with what you want, so you let out a breathy sigh, hoping he can’t tell how much of what you’re doing is a performance, a lie. Leaning in closer to his face, you press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Please, Sir. Don’t look a-away.” You feel his lips twitch into a smile under yours. His cock drags against your insides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. With another half faked, low whine, you prepare yourself to have to endure his gaze. You lean back, stomach twisting as you look into pale eyes. “Please?”

“Aw,” he coos, leaning in to recapture the space you'd created, lips brushing against your as he speaks. “Desperate for attention now, pretty?” 

You hate yourself, but you nod. “Y-Yes.”

“Yes,’ what?” There’s a teasing lit in his voice that’s made vile by the mocking light in his eyes.

“Yes, S-Sir.”

He laughs, the same cold, malicious laugh he always gave. 

It's hard, with him watching you. Before ever entering this cell, you would try to keep his eyes from landing on you. A predatory gaze that made every nerve in your body light up, screaming at you to run and hide or bare your teeth and fight. Now, you can do neither. You keep holding his face, humping his cock, hoping to get him off before he loses interest and returns to torturing your friend.

Your friend…who’s riding his fingers right next to you. You can’t help it as your eyes drift towards them. The way their muscles flex as they move, the sounds that escape them as the squirm on thick, cruel fingers. Their hole, stretched open, sloppy and lewd noises created with each cant of their hips. And their mouth. Lips parted, panting, chest heaving. Their eyes meet yours and for a moment, it feels like just the two of you again. 

It’s not a conscious thought. You reach out to them, and they arch into your touch. You don’t even have to guide them to your mouth as they lean in, capturing your lips with theirs. They moan, low and sweet, into your mouth, shuddering on Aguilar’s fingers as they cum. You can just hear the guard swear under his breath as his cock twitches harshly inside you. 

You’re jerked out of your daze as Aguilar fingers your sex, the same fingers that your friend had been humping only moments ago. Hips stuttering, your orgasm crashes over you abruptly. There's no dignity left to throw away, so you press your forehead to his shoulder as your body clenches around him. His fingers keep crudely toying with you, the hand on your hip squeezing hard enough to bruise, as he starts to fuck into your twitching body. 

When he finally cums, you have to fight from breathing a sigh of relief. Yet, the ordeal isn’t over. 

Aguilar rolls from his sitting position on the cot, pinning you underneath him and dragging your friend to lay next to you. Idly, you wonder if the cot could take the weight of three people, how it managed to remain standing though this new round of abuse, as he slides out of you. The thought is chased from your head as a hand swipes down your front, over your sex, and fingers press into your sore hole. You gasp, arching off the bed on instinct as those calloused fingers curl inside you. 

There’s no time to fully process what's happening before the fingers retreat. Aguilar holds his hand out to the other prisoner expectantly, digits glistening with a mixture of your cum and his. Obediently, they lean in, taking his fingers into their mouth. 

Something in your brain fizzles at the sight. Their lips wrapped around his fingers, down to the third knuckle. Their eyes lock on yours before sliding closed and humming as if having a delicious treat. They pull back slow, pink tongue flicking out to lick the tips of his fingers. 

He grips the back of their head, pulling them into a messy, open mouthed kiss. Even if you could look away, you don’t, watching as their tongues intertwined. 

So entranced, you don’t realize the hand swiping back over your body until those achingly probing fingers are delving you again. You’re more prepared for it this time, though, biting your bottom lip and only squirming a little as your abused hole is invaded yet again. 

This time, his hand is offered to you. 

You mirror what your friend did before you, taking his fingers into your mouth. Tongue swirling over the digits, you clean them of the mixed fluids. Once he pulls his fingers from your mouth, you’re treated to the same kiss. It’s nauseating, kissing this man, but you let him, trying to act as if you want him. 

Finally, when he’s done, he stands. You both stay on the cot as he fixes himself. The smile he gives you is almost drunk off your combined submission before he swaggers from his cell.

And now, the moment of truth. If this fails, you might find another way to make the plan work. To maybe move to a better cell, though your loath to leave your friend now. Maybe make him think it’d be okay to keep the key on him, or maybe even lure him into spending the night stretched out between you on the cramped cot.

A shudder wracks your body at the thought, sleeping next to Aguilar. You’re sure you’d wake up with his cock rutting between your thighs, hands gripping your hips, bruises blooming across your skin as he kept your legs pressed together to create pressure on his dick. If he didn’t just wake you up by fucking into your hole, fingers in your mouth to keep you from crying out too loud and an arm around your throat to subdue any half awake urge to fight. 

And what would happen to your fellow prisoner, your friend? You don’t want to think about it, but your brain doesn’t listen. The thought of waking to them getting violated makes your soul ache. Aguilar manhandling them until they were sitting on his face, forcing them to suck him off as they ate them out until they cried. Or worse, making them lay against you, fucking into them as they shuddered and sobbed into your chest. Holding them while having to touch him, having to continue the charade that you both wanted him.

No. No, you can’t wait. Not any more, not any longer. This had to work. If this didn’t work, if there wasn’t some give, you’d crumble. You can feel it, the fringes of your soul fraying, threads ready to unravel at the slightest tug. 

As Aguilar leaves, you hear it.

The cell door latches. 

Heart sinking, you slide from the bed, crawl across the cold floor. Sitting back on your heels, you look up at the handle. The dark of the room feels heavy, oppressive and thick. If you didn't know any better, you'd think there was another person in the small cell with you. Closing your eyes, you lean forward against the worn wood. 

“Please,” you mutter, “let this work. I'll do anything. Give anything. Please.”

“Both of us,” their voice says from the cot. You start, unaware they could hear you. When you look over your shoulder, they're staring at the darkness in front of you. “Both of us will.”

Waiting until you can no longer hear his footsteps, you reach up, trying the handle.

It’s ice cold, burning against your skin. And solid, refusing to unlatch, for Aguilar to have not locked it properly in his overconfident, cocky state. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you will it to move. “Anything,” you repeat to the door, to the darkness, to whatever would listen to your despair. “Everything.” You try to open the door again.

The knob turns in your hand.

You don’t dare question it, urging your friend up from the bed. Dressing in a hurry, hands shaking, you almost can’t believe what’s happening. But, you don’t care, either.

It’s happening. Despite the slim probability, the plan worked. Or, something worked. The door was unlocked and you’re able to slip out. Together, you make your way through the prison. It’s almost too easy, as if something is helping you along the way. But, you won’t look too hard at gift like this. 

Out, free from the prison, in the cool night air, you laugh, hugging your friend as they finally, finally, mutter their name in your ear. Spinning them around, you tell them your name in turn, before giving them a quick kiss. 

Everything feels right in the world as they pull you against them, making the kiss last longer, deeper. Right, even if you do think, for a moment, a pair of silver eyes watch you while something that feels like power swelling inside you.

You'll have time to figure everything out. You both will. Together.