#I can’t be held responsible for what men with long hair and jewelry do to me

[peepeepotter]

Late Night Encounters Part 3

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT!! Female receiving oral, unprotected vaginal penetration

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: It’s my birthday so I didn’t proofread this!! I’m sorry!!

Once again, Fred had a date. He woke up that morning and remembered every bit of what he had said, and stood by his words. He told Y/N he still wanted to see the ring on the table when he got home. He wanted her to think about it for at least 24 full hours before she made a decision.

Y/N and Fred had narrowly missed each other that morning. He was off running errands for the day and she had only just woken up. He was home for lunch and she was out with Hermione. Y/N felt her heart sink, feeling guilty for wanting to see him. Why guilt, though? She didn’t feel like she had a valid reason to feel guilty. After she got home from lunch Fred had already left for his date, so she fell asleep on the couch in the living room, figuring it was a good way to pass the time until she saw her new best friend again.

“Why was this on the kitchen table?” George asked, waking Y/N up out of her sweet, dreamless sleep on the couch. He was holding the ring.

“I can’t sleep with jewelry on.” She shrugged, getting up and going to grab the ring. He held it up higher. She almost laughed until she saw the look on his face.

“I’m serious.” She sighed heavily at this.

“I know, George.”

“You know what?” The audacity that men have.

“I know you’re sleeping with her again.”

“W-what?” He almost dropped the ring.

“I just don’t get it, George.”

“I w-wouldn’t do that again.”

“Except you are.”

“Why are you accusing me right now?”

“Because I’m not dumb! Just because I trust you doesn’t mean I’m dumb! I’m not naive. The first time, sure. This time, no! It’s the same as last time, but you thought I’d stay with you just because you proposed this time! Maybe I won’t, did you think about that? What if you get her pregnant? Did you just expect me to stay around and raise the kid? Or what if we both get pregnant, who are you leaving alone with their child?”

“I cannot believe this right now--”

“Stop that! Stop it! You’re gaslighting me! You know I’m right! Stop lying!”

“Fine!”

“How long?”

“A year.”

“So immediately after we got back to where we were.”

“Yes.”

“Why? What did I do? Why am I not enough for you?”

“Maybe if you--”

“Actually, no, fuck you. I’m enough for me. I’m enough for so many people. I gave you a second chance and you fucking blew it! I’ve done so much for you, for Fred, too!”

“I--” He sighed. He was speechless. It was the first time you’d really fully stood up for yourself. It was on him, he knew that. “I think...I’m going to spend the night at the Burrow, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“No.”

“What?”

“Go, spend the night with her, but don’t lie to me and say you’re staying with your mom.” She spoke bluntly, tears streaming out of her eyes quietly. It was a silent cry, the only way Y/N ever allowed herself to cry in front of people. He hesitated, but he turned around and left the living room. Y/N entered the kitchen, starting to grease pans for baking.

-

Fred came home that night, mostly confused. Y/N wasn’t in the living room tonight, which didn’t make him feel great. That wasn’t the worst of it though. The date was great. She was perfect, but...he hated it. Something was missing. As she listed off interests, favorite movies, her favorite quidditch team...all he could think was that something was missing. When he got home, and Y/N was missing, it dawned on him. It was her. She was missing. The girl had listed off all of Y/N’s favorite movies, her favorite songs. She liked to bake. Her favorite quidditch team was the Holyhead Harpies, the team his little sister played on. Suddenly, Fred felt rather sick. He can’t have feelings for his brother's girlfriend--no, fiance!

With a pit in his stomach, he walked into the kitchen, where he opened his eyes wide. The entire kitchen table and window sill were covered in baked goods. There was one clean counter, where Y/N sat staring off into space, waiting for her next round of cookies to finish.

“Oh! I forgot! I’m sorry, how was the date?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing--”

“Don’t, please don’t close yourself off. We’re close now, just let me in. What happened, what’s with the baked goods?” He asked, leaning with his arms crossed and his back against the island counter across from where she sat. He noticed the ring was missing, it wasn’t on Y/N’s finger, it wasn’t on the counter or the table where he’d seen it last.

“He admitted it. He’s cheating on me with her again.” She sighed, looking to the ceiling and holding back tears. “And it sucks so hard to know he wasted all this time of mine again. He proposed to me. I know he’s your brother, but that’s just so...crazy. Who does that?” She paused, and just as Fred was about to talk she kept going. “And the worst part is that I don’t...I don’t feel anything. The first time he cheated with Angelina it was like my whole world came crashing down. He was my best friend, my boyfriend, and my roommate. Now, it barely even feels like we’re roommates. I thought I could love him the same way after it all, and maybe he cheated because I couldn’t.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Cheating is always a decision. If he realized you didn’t love him the same way he should have communicated with you. Broken up. Not proposed and delayed this.” Fred sighed. Y/N wouldn’t make eye contact with Fred, assumingly because she was upset.

“I--” She paused, chest tight. She looked up at Fred, making blatant eye contact. “What if I’ve been emotionally cheating?” Fred’s eyes widened and his heart sank. He felt awful, like his feelings for her would just have to go away again. Right as they were getting close.

“W-what? With who?”

“You fucking idiot.” She sighed, pushing herself off the counter. She went to walk away, but Fred put his arms on either side of her on the counter, pinning her where she was.

“Don’t walk away.” He whispered, so close to her face. Her heart pounded.

“I--” She sighed. “Fred, I’ve felt more for you in the past five days than I’ve felt for George in the past year and a half. I waited all day for you to be here, and I kept feeling guilty for it. I’ve felt so guilty, and then I find out he’s cheating and I’m so numb to it because you’re all I can think about.” She paused to breathe before she continued her quick ramblings. “Also, the idea of having feelings for you is so weird, because we only just started to like each other, but you’re standing so close to me and all I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears. I can’t stop thinking about all the girls you used to bring home and how I don’t want to be just one of those girls you sleep with. But obviously I can’t just be with you because I think I just broke off my engagement with your brother and also because you haven’t said anything--” So Fred, in his overwhelmed state, pushed forward and pressed his lips against hers. She grabbed both sides of his face as he grabbed her hips. After a few moments, he quickly pulled apart, moving one of his hands to keep her hand on his face in place

“I couldn’t tell you the other night, but I had feelings for you that summer before the war, but you were with George. I couldn’t...I couldn’t just confess then, and besides you were so happy with him. Then we didn’t like each other, and the night before you got engaged I couldn’t stop thinking about you all over again. And...George made us spend all that time together and you’re the only thing I think about. The girl I went on the date with was so perfect, but I couldn’t get you off my mind and I realized she was just like you. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t you, no one will ever be you.” Fred spoke in a hushed tone with his eyes closed, as if speaking any louder or seeing her would make Y/N evaporate into thin air. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see her with tear tracks down her face.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said anything that nice to me before.” She whispered, taking the hand that wasn’t trapped by his and wiping her face. He giggled, letting go of her hand and using both of his hands to hold the sides of her face. He leaned forward and kissed the tear stains on Y/N’s face. “You’re like this perfect man, it’s so wildly different from George.” She mumbled.

“I can’t account for where he went wrong, and I haven’t always been great. But if you give me the chance, I will love you better than anyone else could dream of.” With tears streaming down her eyes she pulled him in to kiss her again, he smiled against her lips. He held the small of her waist as she rested one of her hands on his chest, the other sat at the back of his neck playing with his hair. He moaned when she pulled it gently, causing her to smile into their kiss. She almost missed being able to see him rolling his eyes at her smirk.

“Love me, please. Tonight, tomorrow, every day. Just--love me tonight.” She whispered against his lips as they panted for air. 

He leaned down, kissing her again as he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her back to a sitting position on the counter. Y/N threaded her fingers through Fred’s hair, one of Fred’s hands was on her thigh, the other rested on her waist. Finally, she bit his bottom lip in an attempt to get him to do anything. In response, he gave a noise that sounded between a groan and a growl, moving to her neck to leave bite marks. He licked the shell of her ear and bit the lobe as he moved down to the length of her neck, sucking hard. She moaned softly, whimpering when he used he grazed his teeth over her neck. 

She started grinding her hips against his in an attempt to get some friction. He grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to him to aid in her plight for friction. After he felt satisfied with the bruises he’d left on her neck he went back to her lips, sucking on her bottom lip briefly before licking it in a silent asking of permission to use it. She gracefully licked his tongue, granting his own tongue admission to her mouth. Their tongues wrestled messily, Y/N playing with Fred’s hair and occasionally pulling softly to hear him moan. She was starting to feel frustrated with just grinding, so she moved the hand that was on the side of Fred’s face to gracefully feel all the way down his body before she started palming him through his slacks. He gave a harsh groan this time, pulling apart from her mouth briefly.

“You’re so beautiful, so sexy.” His voice was deep with pleasure and she moaned at the sound alone. Her heart swelled, she hadn’t been praised like that sexually...ever. Fred took one of his hands off of her hips to thread into her hair, pulling gently to hear her moan. He swore to himself that he could hear that every minute of every day and never get tired of it. While Fred knew he was going to fuck her, his intentions were pure-- he wanted to make love to her. Y/N, however, was getting frustrated with his politeness. She started to unbutton his slacks and he broke off their kiss again. “Hold on, I want to take care of you.” He whispered, flush against her lips.

“I appreciate that, but I want you inside of me.” She whispered, her hand that had been unbuttoning his pants was now tangled in his shirt. Fred felt his heart drop to his cock when she said this, groaning at her lack of restraint. Y/N started unbuttoning his shirt as he separated her thighs and pulled her completely to the edge of the counter.

“You’ll just have to be patient, princess.” He grinned as he went to crouch, kissing her knee on the way down. He left kisses all over the inside of her thighs, leaving her soaked to the core before he had even really touched her. Both Fred and Y/N were thankful she was wearing a dress that day, making his access considerably easier as he rubbed her through only her thin panties. Kissing the inside of her thigh as he looked up into her eyes, he felt like the luckiest man alive. He almost grinned when he saw she was adorning another pair of fruit covered panties.

“You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said the cherry panties were sexy,” He smirked up at her, rubbing circles into her clit through peach covered cotton. “These are sexy too, but I think they’d look a lot better on the floor.” He grabbed the cotton on her hips and pulled them down, leaving them on the floor like he promised. Y/N’s thighs were shaking from all the teasing he had done already. He licked from her inner knee to where he promised to take care of her, latching his mouth onto her clit. She gasped at the feeling of his warm tongue, closing her eyes. He used his tongue to create figure-8’s against her clit, and slowly pushed one finger into her. At this, she threw her head back, resting the crown of her skull gently against the cabinet behind her. She laced her fingers through Fred’s hair, now pulling hard. He groaned in his own pleasure, creating vibrations against her clit which in turn made her moan. He pushed a second finger into her, slowly pumping them as he worked her clit. After adding a third finger, her legs were shaking violently, showing she was nearing the edge. He quickly swapped his fingers and tongue, using his thumb to rub circles against her clit and sticking his tongue as deep as he could inside of her warm pussy. He had his other arm wrapped around her thigh, one of her hands reaching to hold the hand there as she neared her end even faster than before.

“I want you to say my name when you cum, baby, can you do that for me?” He paused briefly, looking up at her, she nodded vigorously. His tongue returned to it’s warm reserve inside of her. The motions he made with his thumb against her clit became faster, and soon enough she was squeezing his hand and nearly screaming his name. Fred waited for her to stop squeezing his hand to stand up and kiss her on the lips again. “You did so good, baby.” He whispered against her lips.

“Freddy,” She whimpered against his lips. “You haven’t even fucked me yet and I don’t think I’ll be able to walk.” She almost laughed at the thought. He grinned, happy with his work so far. He tucked a strand of her behind her ear, kissing her ear as he spoke.

“You won’t need to, baby. I’ll fuck you right here,” He started licking and kissing her neck again, making her whine. “And I’ll take care of you so you don’t have to walk.” He whispered against her quickly bruising flesh. She whined again, reaching to finish her job unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his already unbuttoned pants. He let her continue as he wrapped his hand in her hair once and pulled back, exposing the front of her neck to him where he continued his attack. When she finished unbuttoning his shirt he helped her pull it off his shoulders, exposing his freckled and scarred skin on his chest to her. She rubbed her hands against his chest, feeling every individual scar and wondering where each of them came from. He watched her eyes dart around, a small closed-lip smile adorning her face as she felt the raised white scars. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek softly, loving his own view. Using the same hand that was petting her cheek, he lifted her face to look up at his. He pulled her face close to his own and kissed her softly.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered against her lips with his eyes closed. She smiled, reaching her face up to kiss his eyelids. Angel kisses on his blonde eyelashes. It was a sweet moment, to remind them both that not only was there no going back after what they were about to do, but also to remind them that this wasn’t just fucking. This was real, unadulterated love. He opened his eyes, looking deeply into hers as she pushed his slacks and boxers down as far as she could with her hands, using her bare feet the rest of the way. He lifted her dress over her head, tossing it somewhere behind him, inevitably landing on some type of baked good. She rested one hand against his jaw, pulling his face close to hers, her other hand pumping his cock and gently rubbing the tip. He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath at the feeling of her small hand around him. He rested one hand on her jaw, mirroring her. His other hand rested on the small of her back to push her closer to him. They kissed gently, feeling like this moment was fragile and could be broken. Y/N moved the hand that was on his cock and squeezed his bicep, quietly communicating that she was ready. He moved his hand from the small of her back to line himself up with her entrance, and as he pushed in the both gasped quietly at the feeling. Fred rested his forehead on Y/N’s shoulder, eyes closed as he waited quietly and politely for her to adjust to his size. After a few moments she tapped him to tell him to move, her eyes squeezed tightly closed for preparation of any pain that would come from his movements. He moved slowly, truly taking this moment to get to know Y/N’s body. He felt every groove inside of her, every dip and small raise in her skin, memorising her inside and out. As they both started to get used to this puzzle-piece moment in which it felt like the clicking of soul-mates finally coming together, they started kissing again. Fred’s tongue entered her mouth, exploring, dead set on memorising her entire body. Her hands found themselves resting on his back, nails digging in every so often. If this had been her sex dream, she would’ve been wondering how many girls had dug their nails into his back, but in person all she could think about was him. He filled her every sense, she could smell him, feel him everywhere, taste him, his freckled skin stuck on her eyes even when they closed, and their shared moans overwhelmed her ears. If this was what making love was, she definitely had never shared that with George.

Fred lowered his hand, rubbing her clit gently as his pace got faster. He wasn’t sure if he had ever felt so good so quickly, he was almost positive he hadn’t ever felt his high come so quickly. As he pounded into Y/N’s g-spot and rubbed her clit, she found herself loudly moaning. Her nails were now leaving deep marks into Fred’s back, and Fred hadn’t even noticed.

“Fred,” She moaned his name loudly, the sound of which made his own high come even faster. Set on finding their highs together, they were flush together. Y/N nor Fred had never been so close to someone, their entire bodies touching. Her legs were wrapped around him, her torso flush against his and her face buried into his chest. His face was buried into her neck, leaving occasional kisses to avoid his own moans. Quickly, they found their highs together. After hitting her g-spot so many times, she warned him. He quietly thanked Godric, his own high coming as well. So as they came together, panting, completely embraced, they felt loved. They’d both felt fucked-out before, but this felt different. This felt simultaneously heavy and weightless on their hearts, and they stayed together for a long time. They kissed quietly, Fred not really wanting to leave her, and she not wanting him to leave her either. Before he pulled out she spoke.

“I love you too, Freddy.”

Tag list: @fredshufflepuff @melonoptimist @phelps-weasley-twins @maybeisthemoon @groovynachos @katllol @manuosorioh @brownieparker @superblyspeedydragon @packmentalityx @missryerye @p0gue420 @hogwartshomiehopper @skarlettmikaelson @seppys-return-to-madness @fandomscombine @wzardweasley @eattheboat @mgchaser @borhap-boiiii @gabiconstellation @hardpartybasketballshepherd @superpowereddonut @sukunas-cult-leader @whysoseriousssssssss @skateb0red @urgingforyou @lookscutebutwillfight

permanent tag list: @potters-heart @0x0spunky-monkey0x0

[luna-writes-stuff]

¿Are your requests still open? i got an idea: Thorin and recent wife! He's going to war. She is helping putting his armor. ¿Some with drama and crying?...

Quest for Erebor, Thorin Oakenshield

I went for Thorin leaving for Erebor and also, I don’t know how putting armor on works and I don’t want to risk writing the wrong things, so it’s helping him get dressed in general, so I hope it kind of fits your request! (I might have gotten carried away while wiring this,,,,hope you don’t mind)

Headcanons, female s/o

Tw: Angst, all the angst, bit of fluff (sprinkle of it), crying, Thorin being poetic and whatnot. I may or may not have cried writing this.

- Thorin leaving for Erebor hadn’t truly come as a shock to you. He had spent years trying to find his father, and you were always at his side, traveling with him wherever he went.

- But upon telling you he was leaving to reclaim his old homeland, you grew concerned. You knew it was dangerous for Thorin. He would not be the only one going for that mountain. Sure, he was the only one with the right to reclaim Erebor, but that wouldn’t hold off thieves and darker powers.

- So you immediately decided to come with him, accompanying him as you had always done. But you weren’t allowed to come. This poor dwarf had begged you to stay at home, trying his best to keep you safe.

- He was also aware of the dangers the road would bring and he would not wish that upon you. He would not purposely drag you into something that could cost you your life.

- After days of begging to come with him, you finally gave in, staying with Dis in the Blue Mountains, taking care of the remaining dwarves. You hadn’t been content with Thorin’s terms, but you knew there would be no way to convince him.

- You knew his decision was made out of love, yet you couldn’t help but feel miserable. Especially on the day he left.

- You had gotten up early, making a cup of tea before Thorin could even remove himself from the bed.

- As you had been braiding his hair again, you couldn’t stop the silent tears from rolling down. Your sight grew blurry through the droplets of water, but you refused to make a sound. Thorin was looking outside the window, looking at the small dwarflings already scattered over the open fields, their mothers not far away from them.

- It wasn’t until a tiny sniffle escaped you, he realized you had not been okay at all. He tried turning his head around, but you placed your hand of top of it, making him look straight ahead as you tried finishing the braid.

- “Amrâlîme-“ he started, but you cut him off, your voice cracking just a little, “Don’t. We both knew this day would come.”

- He was quiet for a few moments, before speaking up again; “You know I’m letting you stay out of my love for you, right?”

- You didn’t respond to him, your mind only focused on braiding his hair without screwing up.

- “I don’t want to put you in danger,” he tried, his head lowering a bit. “You must stay here for me. Stay safe.”

- “I have always been safe as long as I was with you.” You defended, grabbing one of your beads from the dresser beside you.

- “But you know this is important to me, right?” Thorin explained, even though he had done so a thousand times before. “When I come back, you can become a queen, Ghivashel.”

- “I don’t want to become a queen, Thorin.” You uttered, securing the piece of jewelry before letting go of his hair.

- “All I ever wanted was to be by your side. A crown doesn’t matter to me. All that matters to me is you. You and me.” The tears in your eyes had finally gathered enough to fall down on your lap, the sour taste of it lingering on your lips. You hadn’t even noticed Thorin turning around yet.

- “You promised me it would be the two of us until death do us apart.” Your voice cracked at the ending of your sentence, a sob stuck in your throat. Upon that sound, Thorin leaned forward, gathering you in his arms whilst he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

- “You promised, Thorin.” You whimpered into his chest, your hands clinging onto the fabric. “I know, I know.” He shushed, happy to hold you for a little while, knowing it might be the last time he’d ever hold you again.

- “It has always been the two of us and it will always be, Amrâlîme. I want you to stay with me as the stars fade out and all the water on this world has dried out. Even when the earth starts to shatter and all light disappears, I want you here with me.” He whispered, his hand now on your face, his forehead touching yours. “But that cannot happen if I lose you on this journey.”

- The question you had been dying to ask was on the tip of your tongue. The both of you knew exactly what it was, and both of you knew the answer too. “But what if I lose you?” You choked out, a new set of tears already forming.

- Thorin was quiet in response, not sure how to answer. The silence struck you hard, another sob escaping you as you furiously tried to wipe your tears away.

- “You won’t lose me, Kurdel. I promise.” Thorin replied, his eyes holding nothing but love for you, even as you could see them glossing up too.

- “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Thorin.” You warned, leaning into him again. He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you close once more.

- “Death won’t mean you lose me. I will always be with you. Even if you can’t see me.” With that, he reached for his hand, pulling a ring off and handing it to you. It had been the ring you had crafted for him when you were in your first year of courting.

- “Keep it safe until I’m back.” He muttered, placing a kiss on this top of your head. Just then, a knock was heard from the door, signaling his company had come to pick him up. His head shot up, yet it quickly wandered back to you.

- “Come home to me” You silently whispered, holding onto his hands. “I don’t care if you’re victorious or not. Come home to me.”

- Thorin hadn’t responded expect for a single smile on his face, holding both remorse and sorry.

- “Men lananubukhs menu.” He mumbled, placing one last lingering kiss to your lips. Your hand quickly found his face as his grabbed the back of your neck and back. When the two of you pulled away, your hand remained on his arm.

- “I love you too.” You uttered, showing a weak smile that was on the verge of collapsing. Thorin knew, and it pained him to leave you like this.

- “Do not spent your tears on me, Amrâlîme. I only ever wished to see you happy.” He encouraged, his hands rubbing yours, placing a soft kiss to it.

- “I will be back before you even notice I am gone.”

- But he wouldn’t be. You weren’t prepared to say goodbye to him that day. Yet now, a year later, that dreadful letter from Erebor had appeared and you realized you would not get another shot for a proper goodbye.

- You were left with nothing but the beads he gave you. Days had grown heavy on you. Your return to the mountain had been much anticipated, yet you remained in the Blue Mountains, not ready for a place that held so much grief and misery.

- “Until all light disappears, yet the sun shines, and you are not here next to me.” You mumbled, fidgeting with the ring Thorin had given you, the warmth of the object slowly disappearing.

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea

Star Wars, The Bad Batch Pirate!au (Hunter x Reader

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers dad and bothered are asses.

chapter one

Chapter two: The Stowaway

It is a disgusting day on Coruscant. Hot, humid and you can’t help but feel something sinister in the air. You feel hollow, and it is only partly due to the tightness of your dress. The yellow and green material wraps around you in layers. Your face is blank but your mind is racing, if you cannot convince your father to call off the marriage, how else can you put a stop to this?

Very few people talk about the war, and so how Lord Nython made his fortune is a mystery to you. What you have gathered from whispers of those in your household it was through a lengthy siege that devastated republic and seperatist forces alike.

“And the weather today is perfect for sailing, I bet those ships at the docks will be itching to set off.” Your handmaiden Seil says to you, and you frown, since when did she have an interest in the docks. But she continues playing with your hair.

“I'll get you the most expensive jewelry in the house,” She says with a smile you’ve grown up with. Perhaps carer was a more accurate term, considering she seemed to be the only person in the world that wanted the best for you. She returns with a pouch of all kinds of gold, silver and gems.

“There is a way to the docks, it is so lovely for a stroll. Away from the busy streets and such like.” You frown at her obsession with an area crawling with pirates.

“Seil what in the name-” You start saying, turning around to slip your flats on. And you stop, in her hands are your boots, made for riding as you had done so many times before.

“I thought these would be fitting, as they are your favourite.” She’s talking about all the times you told her how much you love how sturdy they feel around your feet. And how when you would run the fields, how powerful they made your legs feel.

And then it clicks. The docks, the boots. The tears in her eyes. While you were planning on an escape from this marriage, Seil had been planning an escape from every marriage your father would force on you. She ties the boots tightly, and places a hand on your cheek as you both take shaking breaths to compose yourselves.

And with your father still passed out in bed, and the sun barely rising, you slip into the streets and into the areas less traveled, sprinting off towards the ocean.

The docks are infused with the smell of fish, and the workers barely turn a glance your way as you shift through the swarms of people. You come to a halt at a clearing in the crowd, and your brain catches up with itself. What are you going to do now? With no money, skills, or plan, you begin to second guess yourself. You have time to make it back to the household with no one being the wiser. But you remember meeting Lord Nython for the first time.

His hand latched to yours like a monster squid to its prey, you notice that unlike some men he doesn’t ask ‘may I’ before touching you, and you briefly wonder what about you invites his hand onto your own. But your fake smile remains plastered on as he looks you up and down like a farmer regards the sale of livestock.

Your gut had told you then that all he could bring you was bad news, confirmed by rumors and stories of his wartime expeditions, and when he told you about the war, and the pathetic Grand Army of the Republic he spared no detail in his murder of an entire army.

Of course it's not the same as killing someone like you or me, those kaminoans are devils, and those freaks are just the same. Like hunting the same dumb peigion over and over again. We surely must have downed hundreds of them that day, but they are rats you see, you have to kill every last one in order to rid yourself of the infestation.

Education had not taught you about the Kamino Clones, but experience had, every sepratist man who held power despised them. ‘Scum of the earth’ your father had said when you asked about them. Telling you they had their emotions removed, and blindly followed orders given by the highest bidder. And when the G.A.R had fallen, they scuttled into exile.

And now you stand on the docks of Coruscant, two paths in front of you. Surely if you left Nyhon would send someone after you, he never seemed to back away from a fight, and given his reputation for always getting what he wanted, you doubted he’d take to your absence kindly. So that left you with leaving the only home you’d ever known, and given that you cannot sail, nor pay for passage, stowing away was your only option.

You briefly wonder about the procedure of stowing away, does one pick a certain ship or choose at random?

“Can I help you miss?” A Togruta man asks you, only his blue face visible from underneath his hood and cloak, but the markings give him away, as well as the point in the fabric over his head.

“I...I…” you pause to gather yourself. “I’m fine, thank you.” and you quickly turn away from him, walking down the docks at a purposeful pace. There are so many ships all looking to either load or unload supplies, but none of them seem to be leaving shortly. You need escape now, and not later. The longer you dwell the more the bad feeling in your stomach grows. You must lose yourself again because before you know it a man is rushing past you and shouting

“Sorry miss!” as he goes, you catch the clanking of metal and a glimpse of eyeglasses as he disappears up the ramp of a large dark oak ship, the name Havoc Marauder painted in red at the back.

Perhaps you have found your escape after all.

You very quickly decide the ocean is terrifying. After having snuck up the ramp and into the depths of the ship, you found yourself in your current spot. Huddled behind stacks of crates sitting on the wooden floor and being violently rocked around as the water crashes into the side from all sides. More than once you’ve had to close your eyes in panic when something particularly bad happens, but you refuse to appear weak - even if you’re the only person to witness it.

And the footsteps, even though the men seldom come below decks but you can hear them step ferociously above you. They sound like an army and considering you didn’t get a good look at any of them, you had no idea how many people you were hiding from. They’re loud, and kept busy by the Sea, you have no idea where you’re headed, but as long as it’s far, far away from Coruscant you couldn’t care less. And there are no windows here, so you have no idea how long you’ve been traveling for.

Footsteps start to make their way to the set of stairs leading down into your hiding spot, the small nook of the ship that resides in the belly of the beast. The steps you hear aren't as heavy as others, but they seem to keep most of their weight on their toes, you never quite hear their heel make contact against the wood. And you press yourself tighter to the wall, a tall frame passes you by, lean and with ashen hair the man halls a crate away from the other end of the room, and turns to leave. Your panicked eyes can do nothing but stare back at him through the gaps in the boxes, and they watch him squint for a moment, before he turns and heads back up the stairs. Crate in hand, and your heart in your chest. He cannot have seen you, if he had, why turn away? Panic consumes you.

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

“Sarge,” Crosshair says, thumping the crate of bread and dried meat down in front of him. Hunter simply raises an eyebrow at his vod, and it confirms Crosshair's hypothesis. The captain is in one of his moods again, when shaking off the nightmares is impossible and the hate inside him grows and simmers at fantastical measures.

“There’s a woman on board.” He tells him, casually popping a pick into his mouth. And watching as Tech’s and Wrecker’s heads snap up.

“A woman?” Tech asks with judgement. Crosshair rolls his eyes.

“Yes a woman, you know, the things that look almost like you except for their b-”

“I know what a woman is!” Tech cuts him off before things get graphic. His brother never having the politeness nor the decency to hold his tongue.

“There’s a woman aboard the Murader?” Wrecker tries to confirm, and underneath his wide captains hat, Hunter’s eyes darken.

“Listen very carefully.” He growls, the midday sun shining its way onto an unforgiving face. “If there is a stowaway. I do not care if you have to drag her to me with her intestines hanging out. Get. Her. Off. My. Ship.”

“But…” Wrecker starts, taken aback by the aggressive imagery.

“But what?” Hunter snaps, standing up and seeming small compared to his brother, but nonetheless intimidating. “I want her found and I want her off my kriffing ship.” He demands one last time before stalking back to the captains quarters.

Below deck you hear the slamming of a heavy wooden door, the sound makes your skin jump crawl with dread. Something has gone very wrong indeed, and it is not long before you see boots standing at the top of the steps down into the hold where you thought you were hidden. It is difficult to tell how many, two for certain, the change in foot size tells you that much. None of them talk, making it even harder for you to mask your panicked breaths. But just as one foot begins to descend the stairs, a voice from afar distracts it.

“Ship off the starboard bow!” it’s enough to get the men turning away from your concealment, and towards the voice.

“What does she fly?” Another voice shouts, much closer to you.

“Looks Weequay to me!” comes the response, which causes someone else to grumble something about eyesight and crowsnest. Frankly it’s all gibberish to you, starboard could be another hyper-ocean speedway let alone a part of the ship, and while you are sure you’ve heard the term Weequay before, you can’t place where or in what context you heard it. Laughter breaks you from your thoughts.

“That’ll be Hondo’s ship then!” A loud shout settles in your bones. Not one in anger but perhaps more so simple loudness. And whoever or whatever a Hondo is, it is enough to carry the shoes away from you and rush to another, more pressing task. Which makes you think you just may owe this Hondo your life.

Taglist: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses

comment to be added!

[littlesniggy]

The Chosen One

Anon: Hey! I saw you did a request for Blackbeard and I know you don’t really like writing for him but would you do a scenario where he and his crew are on an island and in a bar or whatever and there is this dancer and he just needs to have her? Could you make it nsfw and maybe dark? If not it’s okay too! I love your writing ! 💖

I don't know if I should be worried about you for requesting nsfw Blackbeard or worried about me for actually writing OVER 2000 words! On the one hand I'm happy that someone requested something different but on the other hand...it's Blackbeard 😂 Anyways, I will still keep writing for him cause he is just the perfect character for non-con scenarios though I know that it's not everyone's cup of tea. Hope you still enjoy it.

Warning: 18+, nsfw, non-con, blowjob

Paring: Blackbeard x female reader

Word count: 2.6k (please kill me)

On the way to Hachinosu Blackbeard and his crew made a stop at another island known to be a paradise to pirates and outlaws, being completely abandoned by the navy and world government. Drunk men and women were gathering in the streets, liquor spilling out of their mouths while they tried to stay on their feet. Two women immediately staggered over to him and his crew, knowing full well who he was. They pressed their half-naked bodies against his, trying to get him to spend money on them in the form of booze or maybe even jewelry. But he pushed them away quite forcefully, making his way through the crowd and into a bar that advertised with sexy and luxurious ladies. None of them were either – at least in his memory.

Blackbeard let himself fall down on a chair, yelling to the bartender to better hurry up and get him his booze. Part of his crew joined him; the rest was scattered around the island. “I hope Glitter is here today! Can’t wait for her to dance for me! Wiihahahahaha!” Burgess laughed, grabbing the mug filled with beer and emptying it in one go. “That ugly, old hag? You have a terrible taste in women. Zehahahaha!” his captain retorted, letting his eyes wander through the bar and the dancing ladies.

“Better than that annoying brat you tormented last time, captain! At least Glitter knew what she was doing. Yours was just screaming and begging you to stop! I thought you would break her! Wiihahahahaha!” the rest of his crew joined in in Burgess laughter at the memory of their last stay at this island. Blackbeard chuckled darkly, taking a deep slug of his booze.

“She just couldn’t handle an emperor of the sea.” His crew’s laughter grew louder, other costumers eyeing them from the side but too afraid to actually say something.

“Oi! Bartender! Where are all your pretty ladies?!” Blackbeard yelled, making the bartender flinch where he stood. “This is the first shift. The second one will come in about an hour.” He informed them but Blackbeard was having none of it. “Make them come out now!” he demanded. “And tell Glitter to come out!” Burgess added, already drinking his second mug.

“As I said, the next shift wi-“, but he was interrupted by Blackbeard. Dark shadows started surrounding him, a malicious grin formed on his lips, exposing his missing teeth. “Do you really want to argue with us?” he asked. The whole atmosphere had changed in an instant and the air was thick as ice. The bartender shook his head and hurried to the back, not wanting to cause any more trouble. “At least he knows what’s best for him.” Shiryu chimed in, ordering another mug as well. “Let’s see what they have to offer today.”

It didn’t take long for the women to come out and most of them were the same as last time. Blackbeard was unsatisfied even though he had already suspected as much. And that chick from last time wasn’t here either. How rude!

Sulking, he grabbed Shiryu’s mug he had just ordered and downed in one go, spilling half of it on his beard and chest. “Another one!” he yelled, throwing the empty mug against the wall next to the bartender’s head. The women who had just come out schrieked in surprise and wanted to run to the back again, but Blackbeard stopped them. “Shut up and start dancing, you ugly hags!” he yelled, his mood dropping by the minute.

“Don’t be too harsh with them, captain. It’s not their fault they’re not your type.” Burgess laughed, his eyes already glued to Glitter, one of the blonde dancers. Blackbeard huffed, his eyes skimming the other women once again in the hopes that he might’ve missed one of them.

And apparently, he had! In the furthest back, barely visible, was this one, beautiful young women, starting to sway her hips to the music playing and all of a sudden his anger was blown away. A huge, grin re-appeared in his lips and he leaned back in content, watching her move to the beat. His crew wasn’t stupid; they had noticed their captain’s change in behavior and one look at the dancer in the back gave the answer as to why.

“Seems like captain’s gonna get some fun tonight after all, isn’t that right?” Burgess chuckled in amusement but didn’t say anything beyond that, too occupied with staring at the blonde dancer in the front.

Blackbeard was entranced by her performance; her graceful moves, her soft-looking hair, her glistering lips – oh, how much he wanted to feel them around his dick while he grabbed those perfectly soft locks to guide her to his thrusts. He swallowed hard, his primal instincts taking over the longer he watched her.

It was no surprise he couldn’t wait until the performance was over. He got up from his chair and ambled over, interrupting the other women. “H-hey! What are you doing?” one asked disgusted but she almost immediately shut her mouth when he glared at her over his shoulder. “Did you say anything, tramp?” he asked but the woman backed off already, holding her hands up in defense. “I-it was nothing. I’m sorry.” He apologized and watched him corner the object of his desire against a wall.

“C-can I help you?” she asked, obviously scared shitless. Blackbeard chuckled and held out his hand, showing off the variety of rings on his hand while he did. But she didn’t see it, too occupied with trying to find a way out of this situation. Usually, the bartender and her boss were enough to scare anyone who tried to do anything to them away but he was Blackbeard, Marshall D. Teach, emperor of the seas – he wouldn’t be scared away by two middle-aged men with guns.

“I want you to come with me.” The pirate said and she pressed her body against the cold wall behind her, wishing she could just disappear. But this was impossible. “I-I’m working at the moment. C-could you wait until….until we’re done?” she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to reject him out loud cause an angry Blackbeard was a scary Blackbeard. She didn’t want to agree to go with him either which should be obvious why. So, the best option was to buy some time – if he let her.

Blackbeard’s grin grew wider and he lowered his hand. “Of course. And when you’re done you’re gonna come to me and become my woman, okay?” he asked. Well, it wasn’t a question rather than an order and she knew she couldn’t refuse, couldn’t turn him down. She was trapped. Maye she could try and sneak away somehow but she feared that it would be almost impossible. Meanwhile, the captain of the Blackbeard pirates was walking back to his seat, his crew members laughing at him getting ‘turned down’ again. After a few insults the music started playing again. All the dancers were scared but had to try and look as if nothing happened, giving costumers suggestive glances to get more tips.

Blackbeard’s eyes never left her body and she knew there was no way out. The other women even agreed on dancing more than usual, just for her to maybe find a way out. But when the very last song had ended and tips could be collected from the floor she knew she was screwed (or was about to get screwed).

“Just try and get out the back, Y/n.” one whispered but she had already noticed how one of his crewmembers, the one with the cigar, had left and was probably waiting for her in the back, just in case she chose to make a run for it. So, she did the only thing she could think of – surrender to her fate and slowly walk over to where the feared pirate was sitting.

His crew’s eyes widened when they saw her walking over, everyone expecting her to try and sneak away. “There you are. Haven’t I told you, you bastards? She came!” he yelled excitedly, almost like a little child who got the toy he had wished for for his birthday. She tried to look confident but her trembling body was betraying her.

“Seems like she didn’t come cause she liked you so much, captain! Wiihahahaha!” Burgess laughed. Blackbeard huffed and ignored him, grabbing her wrist instead and pulling her closer until she was pressed against his naked torso. “Do you wanna be my woman?” he asked, his breath reeking of alcohol and she had to crinkle her nose in disgust. “Zehahahaha….I know you want to. Don’t be shy.”

She felt his other hand move over her back and down to her ass, squeezing it in his big palm. She yelped in response, trying to get away from his hand by instinct but pressing her body further against his in the process. “That’s a good girl! Already showing her captain how much she wants him!” Blackbeard raised his hand to the bartender to catch his attention. “Oi! I’m gonna take her with me!” he just announced before he got up, pulling her with him out of the bar much to her dismay. She could faintly hear the bartender try and call him back but she was sure Blackbeard’s crew would stop him from coming after them.

She was brought to his ship of all places; some of his crewmembers who haven’t left the ship were still there and were leering at her with hungry eyes but not daring to make any comments since she was the captain’s. Blackbeard dragged her to his room which was smelling badly. It smelled like alcohol and sweat, mixed with his personal odor.

“Here we are, Y/n.” He announced, closing the door behind him. On the way he was the one mostly talking, asking for her name which she gave him in fear. She looked around the room, intuitively inching closer to the wall next to her. Blackbeard’s eyes were scanning her body, slowly coming closer and cornering her once again against the wall. He looked at her like a hungry dog looking at a piece of fresh meat and she could swear he was almost drooling. She didn’t want to be here. At all. But she couldn’t run away either. He fate had been sealed the moment he had laid his eyes on her.

“Ne, Y/n. Since you’re my woman now why don’t you show me how much you want me?” he suggested. He lifted his hand and gently stroked her cheek, feeling the wet tears that were running down her face. “No need to cry. If you’re good to me I’m gonna be good to you.” A threat no less and she couldn’t help but fall to the floor, burying her face in her hands and sobbing uncontrollably. This was too much for her. Why did he have to choose her? Why did she have to come with him? Why did she have to be his woman?

“Zehahahaha. Don’t cry. You’re gonna have it good with me. I’ll take care of you, Y/n.” she heard him walk away and a soft sound, indicating him sitting down on his huge bed. She didn’t raise her head but when she heard him speak up again she had to. “Come over here, Y/n.” he ordered, his voice sweet as honey but unforgiving like iron.

When she didn’t move, she heard him grumble in annoyance. “Oi, woman! I said come over here!” he repeated himself impatiently. Slowly, she got up and moved closer until she was standing right in front of him. Contently, he grinned again, taking her chin between his fingers, making her look up at him. “Good girl.” His thumb stroked over her jaw, over her lips before pushing between them and into her mouth. She pressed her eyes shut, tasting his salty skin on her tongue.

He moved his finger in and out, watching it in amazement while listening to the queit but wet sounds it was making. His other hand moved down to his pants, opening them and freeing his already erect member. She didn’t dare look down when he started to stroke himself in the same rhythm he was moving his finger, soon adding another one. He pushed them further down her mouth, pressing down on her tongue until her gag reflex kicked in and she made gagging sound, trying to suppress the feeling of throwing up.

“Zehahahaha. This is gonna be fun.” He mused before pushing her to the ground between his legs. She knew what he wanted but she couldn’t bring herself to open her mouth for him. She smelled his dick; at least it wasn’t as bad as she had expected but it was far from the clean smell she had hoped for. He slapped his dick against her cheek and smeared some pre-cum on it before he caressed her lips with his thick mushroom head. “Open up, woman.” He said in a low voice, his eyes glistering in excitement.

Taking her time, she opened her mouth, accepting that he wouldn’t let her get out of this situation either way. At least he wouldn’t have a reason to be mad at her if she obliged – at least she hoped. His dick pushed forward, gliding over her tongue and all the way to the back of her throat, ready to choke her on his dick. She pressed her nails into his thighs, trying to push herself away from his member but his hand was already buried in her lock, pressing her down onto his crotch. “Hngh!” she protested but he didn’t care.

A deep groan left his throat and he threw his head back, eyes closed in pleasure. He didn’t wait for her to adjust to his size and simply started moving her head on his own, pressing her down in him with each thrust, his hot dick filling her mouth out completely. More tears were running down her face and she tried to take a deep breath in every time she got the chance to.

His deep and shameless moans echoed through his room and could probably be heard by his crew outside. But he obviously didn’t care. To her relief, if she wanted to call it that, he didn’t demand of her to show some effort from her side; he was simply mouth fucking her the minute they had started. It wasn’t pleasant whatsoever but at least he did all the work and she just had to let him use her mouth.

“Fuck…what a good girl you are…your throat his so tight…! Fuck!” he praised, his hand grabbing tighter at her hair, pulling it almost violently as he moved her head on his dick. Her nails kept digging into his thighs as some sort of ‘punishment’ for him though she doubted he even noticed. She felt his dick pulse inside her mouth and she was thankful he wouldn’t last much longer.

With a few more thrusts he came deep inside her mouth, his sperm running down her throat, giving her a hard time not to take in a deep breath that was much needed. She didn’t taste a lot of his cum but what she tasted wasn’t nice at all. He was definitely drinking too much and his diet was unhealthy as well.

With an audible ‘plop’ he pulled his dick out of her mouth, saliva dripping down onto her thighs. He was panting in exhaustion, his hand still buried in her hair, making her look up at him again. “That was good, don’t you think, Y/n?” he asked, expecting her to agree. She nodded hesitantly, hoping he wouldn’t want anything else from her. “Later, we’re gonna go for round two so I can see how good your pussy can take me.”

[candy-and-writing]

My Resolutions

Synopsis: You and Steve have a strained relationship. He takes it upon himself to fix that

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, slight Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Dark! Steve Rogers, NON-CON, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), slight breeding kink if you squint

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Tony Stark's New Year's party was extravagant. Men in expensive suits and black ties, women wearing elegant party gowns and jewelry with more diamonds than a Tiffany's store. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, the lights soft and bright, matching the ambiance of the orchestra. Long, white-clothed tables lined the walls, covered in overpriced shrimp and finger foods, a large chocolate fountain that stood entirely too high next to various fruits and other snacks. Servers walked around the ballroom carrying trays of champagne and little plates of desserts, though most guests already held a cocktail or glass from the bar.

You stood next to Natasha as she conversed with Clint and Wanda, something about Budapest? You were too busy gawking at the lavish scene around you. The Avengers cleaned up nice, the boys wearing expensive tuxes and black bow ties while Natasha, you, and Wanda had gone dress shopping. Nat looked stunning in her long black dress, thin straps that crossed along her back and her short red hair pinned to the side. Wanda wore a dark red dress that had a high neckline and sleeves that passed her elbows, styling her hair in a messily beautiful high ponytail and dark makeup.

You wore a silky sapphire blue gown, the neckline low and cut to show much more cleavage than you were comfortable with, the thin straps were the only thing to cover your back. The skirt of your gown was loose and flowy around your legs, stopping at your toes. Your hair was curled down around your shoulders, dangling earrings tickling your jawline. Your makeup was simple, eyeliner and some fake eyelashes Natasha helped you out with and some red lipstick. To your surprise, it contrasted beautifully with your dress.

You left Natasha to navigate your way through the crowd, wanting to reach the bar. Once there, you ordered a cocktail and sat down, sighing. You picked at your painted fingernails, twisting a ring around your finger.

"Hey, doll." 

You looked up to find Bucky leaning against the bar, smiling at you. You smiled back. The bartender handed you your drink, you thanked him before taking a hefty sip.

"Hey."

"Having fun?"

You shrugged, stirring your straw in your drink. "Parties make me anxious, there's always too much that could happen when nothing ever does. All these strangers—does Tony even know all these people?"

Bucky sat beside you, sighing like your dad does when he goes to sit down and watch the football game. "Sounds fair, given what we do for a living. You have a right to be paranoid."

"I'm not paranoid," you glared. "I'm being cautious."

Bucky chuckled, ordering a double whiskey before looking back at you. "You wanna join Steve and I? Get your mind off things?"

You sighed, playing with your straw for a moment before nodding. "Yeah."

He guided you to the middle of the room, dodging past people until he found Steve and Sam. Sam greeted you with a nod and a smile, looking you up and down quickly before he met your eyes. Steve gave you a tense nod, quickly continuing his conversation with Sam. You scoffed before taking a drink, feeling stupid for thinking Steve would greet you at all. He's had such a stick up his ass the last few months, barely acknowledging you and only talking to you when he had to, but he was more than happy to ignore you. You've caught him glaring at you from the other side of the room multiple times, like your presence itself just annoyed him. You had no idea what you did to piss the supersoldier off, but you've learned to just stay out of his way.

Although you would admit, with his long hair, short beard, and his tight tux, he looked ruggedly handsome. He was a stark contrast to the man he once was when you first joined. He would at least talk to you then.

You shook your head, taking a sip of your cocktail. You had no idea why it bothered you so much—he didn't like you and you didn't like him, you just couldn't understand why. He was nice, kind to everyone else, to complete strangers, so why did he look at you like you were a bug he squashed on his shoe? And it wasn't like you actually hated him, despite your nonexisting conversations and the spiteful glares, you were quite fond of the super-soldier.

One cocktail turned into two, then three, then two more glasses of champagne when you spotted a server walking near you. Bucky was too busy conversing with Steve and Sam about his days back in the 107th to notice your tipsy daze, laughing as Sam made a snarky remark about his old age.

It was well past midnight now, the guests from the party had slowly disappeared, leaving the Avengers to finish off the eggnog and bacon-wrapped shrimp. You sat on the edge of the couch next to Wanda, nursing your third—was it your third? Or was it your fourth? No, no, definitely your third—cocktail Natasha had made you. Across from you sat Steve and Bucky; Bucky had taken his jacket off while Steve left his on, instead unknotting his bow tie. At first glance, you'd expect Bucky to be the one giving you the cold shoulder, not America's Golden Boy. But Bucky was probably your closest friend. You grumbled, taking another drink.

"Alright, let's go around the room!" Tony clapped and rubbed his hands together before pointing at Bruce. "Banner! New Year's Resolution, go!"

Bruce mumbled for a moment before sighing, saying something about finishing his big project with Dr. Cho. Clint went next, saying he wanted to be there when his daughter graduated middle school. Natasha wanted to do some volunteer work, maybe get a cat, something she could take care of.

"Cap, you're up!"

Steve sighed, holding his beer down at his lap. "Uh—"

"To get laid," Sam interjected, snickering. Bucky laughed as Steve's eyes widened.

"Seriously?" you nearly choked on your drink. "I can't believe that's one of your new year's resolutions."

Steve cleared his throat. "It's not." He gave you a dangerous glare, which you failed to see on account of you finishing off your cocktail. "I was going to say—before I was interrupted—I want to make the world a better place, this time next year I want it to be better."

You shrugged, reaching for a bottle of champagne. "Eh, whatever you say, Captain."

"What about you?" he asked, all but snarling. "What's your resolution?"

You poured yourself a glass from the bottle of some fancy Krug Blanc de Blanc champagne, it was crisp and rich and the bubbles tickled down your throat. "Don't got one," you said plainly. "I think they're dumb."

Tony 'boo'd. You stuck your tongue out at him.

"Aw, come on," Clint groaned. "Think of one thing you want to do this year."

You sighed. "Fine. I. . . I guess I don't want to die?"

"There ya go! That's the spirit!"

You chuckled, shaking your head as you sip your drink. Wanda went next—said she wanted to do something to help Sokovia since they're still rebuilding the city. Bucky said he just wanted to live his life with his friends. Corny bastard.

An hour passed, maybe more, before you started to get cold. The cool air danced along your bare back and down your spine. F.R.I.D.A.Y had started playing Christmas music and Natasha dragged you up. You protested, begging her to let you go. She had your hands in hers, swaying you back and forth until you were begrudgingly moving on your own until your hips were moving on your own accord.

Then you fell. Tripped over your dress.

Bucky stood up, rushing over to you as Natasha tried to give you her hand but you waved them off. "I'm fine, jeez, back off."

"Maybe you should lay off the drinks," Nat said.

"Yeah, how many have you had?" Bucky frowned at you.

"What are you, my mom?" you growled, reluctantly taking Bucky's hand as he pulled you up a little too fast. You clutched onto him, dizzy as you struggled to steady yourself. Suddenly, there was another pair of hands on you, rough as they held you tightly.

"I'll take care of her," Steve's voice said.

"Steve—" Bucky was interrupted.

"I said I got her." He pulled you out of Bucky's grasp, dragging you out of the room.

"Go easy on her, Cap," you heard Tony say softly, "you know this time of year is hard for her."

That made both you and Steve scowl. It is not, you thought as Steve pulled you along, your small feet struggling to keep up with his fast steps. Your head spun, dizzy as Steve stopped at a door. He shoved you in, wobbling and stumbling over your heels. You turned to him, about to tell him to watch it when you stopped. His expression was stone cold, almost feral. He stalked up to you as you shuffled back, circling until you bumped up against a table. Surprised, you looked behind you, running your hand along the dark mahogany. That wasn't your table. Looking around your surroundings, you saw that you weren't in your room at all.

"Steve," you say, your voice shaky. "Where are we?"

His snarl turned into a cold grin and he chuckled at your stupidity. "Are you that drunk or are you just that stupid?" he belittled. "Take a good guess."

You knew where you were, and his snarky remark had you biting your tongue you hold in your dry sarcasm. You rolled your eyes and tried to push past him, but he shoved you back until you hit your head, laying over the table.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," he growled, hand pressing down on your chest.

"Ow! What the fuck, Steve!"

"You wanna know what my new year's resolution really is?" Steve had pushed himself up against you, noses close to touching. You could smell the beer he had on his breath.

"Steve, seriously, this isn't funny—"

"It's you."

He forced himself in between your thighs, your dress riding up to your knees as you kicked your feet out, flailing as Steve pushed against you, pinning your wrists on either side of your head.

"Steve, stop," you begged. "Please, you're scaring me."

"Good," he huffed. "You should be, maybe it'll sober you up."

"Steve—"

"Shut up!" You flinched, turning your head away from his. "God, I am so sick of you and your little games. Playing innocent when you're walking around in your skin-tight uniform, flirting with Bucky, ignoring me. You brought this on yourself, sweetheart."

You're the one ignoring me, you jackass.

"Steve, I—" you took a deep breath, trying to play your cards right. "I never meant to make you think—"

"I don't care," Steve sneered. He let go of your wrists, his hands rubbing up along your thighs. You pushed against his chest, trying to get him off you, but he brought his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, looking at you like you were an annoying fly. You cried out, head snapping to the side as Steve pinched your inner thigh. He pushed your dress up over your hips, your black lacy thong on full display.

"Jesus," Steve breathed. "You wore this out in public? You're lucky some other man didn't try to fuck you earlier."

"Steve!" you cried, frightened. Your heart was pounding in your ears so fast you thought you were going to pass out. One of his hands went to your throat, squeezing just enough to make it hard to breathe.

"I said, 'shut up.' God, you really need a lesson in obedience."

With that, he roughly grabbed the hem of your underwear and pulled, tearing the garment in two so hard it left burn marks on your waist. You let out a strained cry, squeezing your eyes shut as tears slipped past your lashes. Your head spun in a drunken daze as Steve licked his fingers before he rubbed against your clit, causing you to jolt. You let out a strained, garbled 'no'. Steve only gripped your throat tighter.

"It's alright, sweetheart," Steve cooed, his voice suddenly softer, "I can make it feel good for you. Just relax."

You clawed at the hand wrapped around your throat, trying to tear him away, mouthing voiceless pleas.

Stop.

Please.

Steve.

"Just relax, sweetheart, it'll feel good. I promise." He continued to rub circles over your clit, softly and then harder at random intervals. You mewled, squirming in his grasp, your back arching as he dipped his finger into your channel, spreading your juices around. His now slick finger stroking your sensitive bud as you let out a strangled moan. "That's it, doll, just let yourself feel it."

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a conquering and controlling kiss, tongue delving into your mouth. You were helpless as his lips moved to your jaw, inserting a second finger into you. You gasped as Steve started pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly, finger fucking you until you were a whimpering mess.

"It feel good, doll?" Steve asked, lips dangerously close to yours. The pads of his fingers brushed against a certain spot inside you and you cried out, hips jolting. "You like that?"

You felt the stretch as Steve forced a third finger into you, your legs numb and heavy. Your head spun, and you thought for sure you were going to puke as he sped up, the coil in your lower belly tightening as his lips latch onto your clit. You gasped, a scream getting stuck in your lungs as he sucked on your clit in the most beautiful way.

"St—stop. . . Steve, St—Steve, please—"

A few more licks was all it took before the coil in your stomach snapped. You let out a coarse scream, the breath getting sucked out of your lungs. Your thighs shook as your back arched painfully, your pussy convulsing against Steve's fingers until you collapsed, lax on the table under Steve.

"Jesus, sweetheart." Steve pulled his fingers from your channel, causing you to whimper. "That was beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful."

His words barely reached your ears, sounding muddled and far away like you were under water. There was a loud pounding, your heartbeat ringing in your ears, strumming through your body. You didn't realize Steve had unzipped his dress pants, shuffling them down past his knees, stroking himself slowly. He let out a soft sigh, lining himself up between your legs.

Your eyes widened. "Wait—Steve, don't—!" Steve used his hand to cover your mouth, silencing you.

"It's alright, sweetheart," Steve cooed, "just relax. I'll make it feel good."

He pushed into you slowly, his thick cock stretching your walls. You screamed into his hand, legs clenching in an attempt to stop him.

"I said 'relax', doll. This is happening, just accept it, it'll feel so much better."

You closed your eyes, willing your muscles to unwind as Steve thrust into you, groaning.

"Fuck, you're tight," he growled. "I know you're not a virgin, you fucked Bucky just last week."

Your eyes flew open wide at the candor remark. You mumbled something incoherent to him against his hand, which he chuckled at.

"Oh, please, you honestly think I'm that clueless?" Steve scoffed. "The missions you two are always taking together, the incessant flirting, the sneaking around like you're a bunch of teenagers. No, I knew, and—frankly—I'm a little offended. I had to find out from Natasha?" He punctuated her name with a sharp thrust of his hips. "You must have one hell of a spell on him that he didn't come running to me after it happened. . . . How did it happen? I'm curious."

He moved his hand away from your mouth, when you didn't answer immediately he snapped his hips up into you.

"Steve—"

"Tell me," he said, pulling out slowly, just to the tip, then pushing back in inch by inch.

"Okay!" you screeched, "Okay! We—we were in Germany, a couple months back, for the human trafficking intel S.H.I.E.L.D had. The mission was a bust, they knew we were coming, they killed all the girls. One of them—ngh—she wasn't even old enough to start her period yet. Bucky took it really hard—"

"I don't care," Steve growled, bucking his hips. "Get to it.”

"He drank himself to sleep that night," you whimpered. "I had to wake him up a few hours later because he was screaming. When—when he calmed down, I tried to talk to him, but he kissed me. I—I told him we shouldn't—"

"Because you didn't want to or because he was upset—oh, fuck."

"I—" you preened. "I didn't want to do anything he would regret, when he told me there wouldn't be anything to regret, I just went with it."

"You let him fuck you," Steve corrected.

"Yeah," you forced out, even though that wasn't the truth. It had been more than that. It wasn't just a quick fuck, it was something both of you needed to get past that. You needed to forget and Bucky needed reassurance. You had let him take control that night, something he needed, while you laid back and let him be the one in control over you. You trusted him completely, and that man had pulled more orgasms from you than anyone ever could.

"Do you know why that is?" Steve whispered, his voice low. His hips kept their slow pace, his dick ever so slowly sliding in and out of your cunt. When you shook your head, he gave you a devilish smile. "It's because you're a slut. And he thought you were easy."

Steve pushed your legs up to your chest, effectively bending you in half as he fucked into you faster, his balls slapping against your skin as you screamed, hands clawing at the table below you. His cock was driving into you deeply, hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. He was longer than Bucky, albeit Bucky was thicker. You bit back a moan, refusing to give Steve that kind of satisfaction.

Steve clicked his tongue. "Come on, doll, don't be like that." His hand dipped down to where your body's were conjoined, his fingers rubbing softly against your clit.

"Fuck!" you gasped, your back arching. You let out a string of moans, whining as his hand stayed stuck to your clit.

"I need you to come for me, baby, one more time. Can you do that?" His hot breath grazed against your ear. "Fuck—come on my cock, sweetheart."

You bucked your hips wildly, trying to shake him off you, the sensation all too familiar yet unwelcome. "Steve—stop, please, I can't—"

"You can, sweetheart, I know you can. Just a little bit more." He rubbed small, fast circles against your clit until you came with a scream, Steve clamping his hand over your mouth as he came, silencing your overstimulated cries.

He thrust deep into you, spilling his seed in your pussy. He groaned, held himself still for a moment, then pulled out. You whimpered, feeling his cock leave your abused channel, cum flowing freely from your cunt. Steve's cum. You never thought you could feel so disgusted.

Steve looked at where the cum was seeping out of you, scooping it up and pushing it back in with to fingers. You gasped, trying to squirm away from Steve's fingers.

"You're going to stop fucking Bucky," Steve ordered, his voice low. "Things are going to be strictly professional between you two from now on, Understand?"

Your eyes widened. You couldn't do that Bucky, he didn't deserve to be kicked to the curb like that.

"I said, 'do you understand?'"

The sharpness in his voice had you nodding, suddenly feeling like a kid trapped with the monster from under the bed.

Steve smiled. "Good."

He released your face, and you took that as your cue to get up. When you propped yourself up on your elbows, Steve pushed you back down. You gave him a quizzical look, he gave you a dark grin on return.

"You didn't think we were done, did you, sweetheart?"

[linorangge]

Monarchy | Prince! Hyunjin AU

Among the kingdom, he’s known for his good looks and you can’t help but think that’s all he has to offer. With an uprising waiting to happen, you may be his last resort. (CONTENT WARNING: angst, fluff, cursing, d3ath, suggestive language.) Part 2 | Word Count: 2147

Hwang Hyunjin, heir to the throne, but not anytime soon. He was a prince sure, but he was in line behind a sister, and two brothers. The youngest of four children, the Hwang siblings were elite among the six  kingdoms of Asia. Hyunjin was 20, his eldest brother was 25, his sister 23 and his other brother 22.

You had never seen him in person. You always saw him on national broadcasts and when you did, he never spoke, he was reserved. The kingdom admired him mainly for his good looks, his good posture, his long hair, and especially his long legs and perfect physical appearance.

He was especially popular among young adults and teenage girls, all your friends had pictures of him from newsletters and magazines. He modeled for countless clothing lines. He was the most well known Hwang sibling despite all of them having good physical genes.

Your father was the head military general, therefore he saw the Hwang family often. From what you’d heard from your father, they were all similar, except for Hyunjin. He was the quiet one among them.

Your opinion on the Hwang family wasn’t necessarily the most well formed.

His eldest brother, Hwang Sungho, was most known for being the funny and extroverted sibling. He was polite with people and animals, and he was often seen talking pictures with anything that breathed. You liked him, he didn’t seem all that bad.

His eldest sister, Hwang Eunjung, was the epitome of grace. Every girl aspired to be like her. She was every young girl’s role model. She was a lover of the arts, dancing, sculpting, drawing, photography, botany. She was affectionate with her brothers and she was known for her loving nature towards all who came into contact with her. She wasn’t necessarily your role model, but you liked her, and deeply admired her.

His second eldest brother, Hwang Minjun, was also known as being clever and funny. Minjun was often seen as the “troublesome” sibling because he would often accidentally curse during broadcasts. You thought he was funny but ill-mannered.

And then there was Hwang Hyunjin, quiet, “sit still and be pretty” Hyunjin. You thought of him as just a pretty face, a person with no real personality or good talents. He didn’t have much to offer the kingdom in your opinion, which was okay, considering he was last in line and would most likely never become king.

You had never seen any of the royal family in person, and you didn’t desire to. You were satisfied with the life you were living, and you didn’t have any real aspirations other than to become exactly like your father. Your mother had fled the kingdom a long time ago, just after you were born.

Your father had raised you, and he’d taught you martial arts, and sword fighting at a young age. You slowly developed these skills the older you got. Knights were often men, and you aspired to be the first female knight. With your background and reputation with your father being the head general, this could be easily accomplished.

You were 20, and when you turned 21, you’d be able to enlist to begin official training as a knight.

Well, today was the day of a ball being held at the royal palace. You and your father were of course invited and you were both being strapped into expensive clothes by your maids.

Your maid, Byeol, was tightening a corset around your waist as you looked through different necklaces to pair the gown with.

“Ready miss.” Byeol said as she tapped your shoulder gingerly.

You turned and admired yourself in the mirror, the way the bodice hugged your curves well. The dress had straps that fell off the shoulder, giving it an elegant sort of lazy look. The layers of fabric beneath the corset were beautiful and had intricate stitches that held the various layers together.

“Which shoes?” She said as she organized some shoes on a rack.

“The black ones.” You said as you adjusted the dress, still looking in the mirror.

She came around in front of you and lifted your dress as she helped put your shoes on. Byeol was a good maid, she was the closest thing you had to a mother figure. She respected your boundaries but she had taught you everything your mother didn’t. Sewing, knitting, calligraphy, she even taught you how to play cello. You were disciplined thanks to your father and Byeol.

Byeol brought your case of necklaces and jewelry and showed them to you.

“Which do you think goes better?” You said, sifting through them.

“This one.” She said, picking up a medallion with an intricate design on it.

You nodded and took the case from her so she could put it on you.

“Are you nervous?” She asked as she pulled the necklace chains behind you.

“Not really, I think I’ll just eat finger sandwiches and chat with some old friends.” You said, feeling her clip the necklace on, and letting it fall against your chest.

“Why don’t you try dancing with the Hwang brothers? You’re of a high caste, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too taboo.” She said as she fixed the dress from behind you.

“I’m not interested in them.”

Byeol stopped fixing your dress for a moment, “Are you sweet?”

“Sweet?”

“Do you like women, Y/n?”

You turned your head a bit, “No? I don’t think so. I don’t have any interest in royalty, much less the one who’s my age.”

“Prince Hyunjin is a good looking young man. You have no reason to be so judgmental of him.”

“That’s all he is, Byeol. He has nothing to offer.”

“You sound like the rebels.” She said as she stood from fixing your dress.

“Rebels aren’t even knowledgeable. They’re just drunks who roam the sewers.” You said as you turned to face her.

“Be careful who you say these things to, the uprising is near.” She whispered.

“Father has it under control. The uprising will diminish and so will the rebels.” You said confidently.

“Let’s hope so.” She fixed your hair and fluffed it a bit to give it volume.

“Do I look okay?” You asked.

“You look beautiful.” She said as she patted your bare shoulders.

You heard your father shout, “Y/n! The carriage is here!”

You hastily picked up your dress, “Thank you Byeol, you’re an angel.”

You kissed cheeks and you made your way outside of your home.

Your father helped you inside the carriage and climbed in behind you. On your way there your father reminded you to be courteous and gentle. You nodded along to everything he said and before you knew it, you had arrived at the royal palace.

Royal coaches helped you out of the carriage and you held your father’s hooked arm as you walked down the large corridors towards the ballroom.

The halls were lined with guards, people your father was close to and some who even watched you grow up. You knew all of them, and for some odd reason this fact made you proud.

Your father and you walked to the front of the ballroom where the Royal family was sitting. You paused in front of them and curtsied as your father bowed.

You moved on and went to a table that had a place name with your surname. You were sat with some other generals your father worked with and you were all talking amongst yourselves.

And the royal dances with the Hwang siblings began. You were the oldest daughter at your table, the rest were all 12-15 year olds, therefore they weren’t eligible to dance with them. If your caste was high enough and you were 18 years or older, you were able to dance with the royal family.

The generals and their wives egged you on, and you pretended to be shy rather than disgusted at the thought of dancing with Hyunjin.

Your father gave you a look, “Go dance Y/n.” He gave a tight squeeze on your hand, letting you know that you had to dance, this was no longer an option.

“Alright then,” You said, standing from your seat and quickly fixing your gown before you made your way to the dance floor.

You walked up to the seats where the royal family sat, Eunjung, Minjun, and Hyunjin were the only ones left in their seats. You looked at Eunjung who was talking to a girl and giggling softly along with her. You turned to meet eyes with Minjun, who beckoned you towards him.

You stepped toward him and curtsied, “Prince Minjun, I’m Y/n, daughter of the head general.”

“Daughter of the general?” He said, looking you up and down.

You nodded.

“How old are you, Y/n?” He said, sitting up, fixing his posture slightly.

“I’m 20, my prince.”

His eyes widened. He tapped Hyunjin’s hand that was resting on the armchair. Hyunjin looked at his brother with a bored expression and jutted his chin.

“Dance with the head general’s daughter, it’ll be more exciting than dancing on your own.”

Hyunjin lazily turned his head towards you and looked you up and down.

You hated the way he looked at you. The way his eyes traveled your body and came to rest on the necklace around your neck, before meeting your eyes.

He turned back to Minjun, “I only dance alone.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“C’mon Hyunnie!”

Hyunjin interrupted his brother, “Don’t call me that in public.”

Minjun rolled his eyes, “Whatever, dance or I’ll tell dad to give you fencing lessons instead of dance lessons.”

Hyunjin huffed in annoyance, “I hate you.” He mumbled as he stood.

“You love me! C’mere little bro!” Minjun reached up to try and give his brother a cheek kiss. Hyunjin pulled away before he had the chance.

You curtsied before him, “My prince.” You mumbled before he took your hand and led you to the dance floor.

You reached the middle of the floor with him and people moved out of your way as they stared at both of you.

You curtsied as he bowed and he took your hand and began to waltz with you. His gaze was elsewhere, he wasn’t looking into your eyes and even avoiding eye contact.

“Just so you know, I was forced into doing this too.” You said as you both moved in sync.

He hummed in response as he held your waist, guiding you along as he danced. His dryness annoyed you.

“Do you always dance alone?” You asked, trying to start a conversation.

“Do you always ask so many questions?” He said, finally meeting eyes with you.

“Your eyes remind me of a dead fish.” You said, no longer worried about being polite.

He snorted, “Are dead fishes what entice women these days?”

“I wouldn’t know.” You said as he twirled you and he pulled you back towards him.

“I have a feeling you don’t like me.” He said.

“I wonder why.” You gave him a tight smile as you continued to waltz.

You both stayed quiet for a moment, letting the music guide you around the floor.

You watched his face, the way his expression was enthralled in the melody. His body was moved by the music, he was a true dancer. You could tell by his muscular legs and his toned biceps that you could feel through his suit.

“What kind of dancing do you do?” You asked.

“Contemporary, sometimes ballet.” He answered curtly.

“I thought Princess Eunjung did dancing?”

“She does, but she’s more interested in art and botany.” He said.

You nodded in response.

Soon, the symphony ended and you broke apart. He walked you back to the front of the room and let you curtsy before him once again before you made your way back to your table.

“How was it?” Your father asked.

“Good.” You said as you took a sip of wine.

After a moment of talking and eating little snacks presented in the middle of the table, a butler came behind you and tapped you on the shoulder.

You turned and he bowed slightly before saying, “Prince Hyunjin would like to see you in the orchard madam.”

You looked at your father and gave him a panicked look. He gave you a nod, gesturing for you to go.

You turned back to the butler, “Please let him know I’ll be on my way.”

The butler nodded and walked away swiftly. You stood, fixing your dress once again and made your way to the exit.

A million thoughts were going through your head. Was he going to get his revenge after you were so rude to him? Were you to be beheaded for your ill manners? You were afraid nonetheless.

Why would he need to see you in the orchard?

[ddarker-dreams]

Fallen From Grace. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

Giorno has given you too many gifts to count.

This benevolent act serves multiple purposes, culminating towards the goal of making your time here better. He doesn’t shy away from the reality of what he’s doing to you, the extent of your loneliness after being displaced. Forcing himself to remember this bitter truth keeps him from getting complacent, striving to make your experience all the better. 

No detail is to be overlooked. In what little free time Giorno has, he molds your surroundings to your liking. The meals that are planned for you consist of high nutritional value, often rotating your favorites with only the best ingredients and chefs to prepare them. Your wardrobe is full of outfits tailored to your measurements and tastes. Rare and ethereal flowers span across the master bedroom you share with Giorno, him creating them with the purpose of soothing you. 

For all this effort, Giorno never has an expectation for your gratitude. He doesn’t believe he deserves it, having stolen you from your normal life. He’s the reason for the tear soaked pillows, the restless nights and detached demeanor you’ve adopted. Whether it’s to ease the guilt that suffocates his heart, or to see your eyes light up for only a moment, Giorno tends to you. 

This custom, handmade journal is one he gave you at the start of your time here. With you receiving limited human interaction, Giorno found it important for you to have a way to express your thoughts. While you were initially antagonistic towards him about the journal, you began to use it. He lets you hide it from him, letting you believe it’s out of his reach for peace of mind. 

Ironic as it may sound, Giorno respected you by never laying a finger on it. The overwhelming temptation of learning his beloved’s most inner thoughts isn’t lost on him. He could read it and place it back to its original spot without you being none the wiser. For months, he made a point in refusing this alluring idea. 

That is, until this very second. 

Sitting on his dark mahogany desk, is the journal that contains your private thoughts and experiences. Giorno’s eyelids flutter shut, a soft sigh leaving his lips. Leaning further into his chair, he gives more thought to the situation. The forbidden fruit lays before him, ready to give knowledge he shouldn’t have. 

There’s a grander reason for this dilemma. When spending time with you, Giorno is keen to pick up every nuance of your behavior. It’s a trait of his that has followed him since childhood. Every twitch of your mouth or hesitation in your voice paints a larger picture. He’s capable of reading you, knowing your thoughts before you even know them yourself. This often works out in his favor. 

But lately, when he speaks to you, something feels different. In a way that doesn’t make sense. You still hold apparent dislike for him, but you avoid eye contact less. There’s a sense of underlying assurance, like you’re privy to information that he isn’t. It gets under his skin, eating him from the inside out. 

No longer do you threaten him with bitter words, detailing your resentment towards him. You seem content to sit in his presence, talking casually about what you’ve done that day and asking him the same. He won’t lie and say he doesn’t like the development. But his gut tells him there’s a malicious intent laced in your new behavior. 

What are you hiding from him? 

The realm of possibilities is few and far between, and Giorno considers every possibility. None of his theories placate a voice in his head, a gnawing that something is very wrong. Talking to you and asking questions laced with hidden agendas has led to no discoveries, options growing limited to discover the truth.

Running his fingertips over the spine of your journal, he gingerly opens to the first page. It’s a dirty feeling to be doing this, invading your privacy behind your back. He’s done worse for the sake of your well being, the justification spurring him to continue on to the next page. It contains your first entry. 

“I didn’t want to write this. Putting the words into paper almost feels like I’m accepting the reality of what’s happening to me, this parody of a life. I don’t have much else to do to pass the time. 

Even my hobbies bring me little joy, knowing who set them up for me like a doll in a dollhouse. Focusing is another thing entirely. How can I focus knowing I’m always being monitored to some degree? Even as I write this, I wonder who’s watching me. 

In the past, when I felt anxious, I’d write. And well… anxiety is the heartbeat of my life now. Everyday I wake up, more numb than the last. All I look forward to is when I’ll sleep next. At least then I don’t have to feel anything, I can just exist without trying. There’s nothing else for me to say.”

He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Giorno’s lips curl down into a frown, his eyebrows furrowing and stomach dropping. Seeing the depths of your pain so tangible, in your own words, kills a piece of his soul. It’d be an insult to you to waver now, he thinks, resolve staying firm. Not wanting to invade your privacy more than necessary, he skims through more entries in hopes of finding any leads on your current behavior.

“It’s already been three months since I’ve begun living here, if you can even call it that. I’ve gotten better at spotting the guards. I like to think of it as a little game. They’re good, I give them that. But when you have nothing to do, living in a house with no noise, it grows easier to listen. To notice things I wouldn’t have before. 

Maybe I’m going stir crazy. I don’t like knowing how I’m being monitored, but I’ve grown accustomed to it. I hate to admit how he was right , when he said I’d grow accommodated to this with time. I don’t want to. I don’t want to learn to live like this. But I can’t stop it. Resisting the inevitable is a pointless waste of energy, which I hardly have anymore.” 

Giorno picks up on your lack of mentioning him by name. In most of your entries, you avoid even insinuating to his existence when possible. It’s a cold sensation, knowing who he loves most omits him at every chance. He understands -- it’s what he deserves after putting you through this isolation -- yet the complex hurt remains prevalent. Every word stingers more than the last.

He soldiers on, searching through more entries. 

“I wonder if they’re allowed to talk to me. When I call out to the occasional shadow, or creak in a room beside me, there’s no response. But I know they’re here, I’ve seen him giving them orders in the past when I pretend to sleep. It’s always in hushed whispers, as if anything they say could surprise me. 

I just want to talk to someone. Someone that isn’t him. Someone that doesn’t avoid my gaze like everyone else here. It makes me feel like I’m a disgusting sight to behold, even though I know why they look away. The guilt from witnessing what they do, outweighed by their longing for money. I hate it. It makes me hate them. At least look at me, like I’m a human. 

They’re spineless cowards. All of them. Disgusting subhumans that take a paycheck over my suffering. I hate them so much, almost more than I hate him.” 

Giorno freezes, noticing small crinkles in the paper towards the end of this entry. Signs that you must’ve been crying, he deduces. God. He wants to tell himself that it’s worse than he thought, but that’d be a lie. All along he’s been aware of the great extents of your suffering, all pointing back to him. 

Running a hand through his hair, loose from its normal styling, Giorno wonders if he should stop now. Every word is like a nail in the coffin of his heart, paining him in more ways he thought possible. Making difficult decisions has come as second nature to him, so he preserves on. 

“Yesterday was my birthday. What a shitty thing to realize. I got a lot of things. More than I ever had gotten before. More offline games, clothes, perfume, shoes, jewelry, and even a painting. By the looks of it I think it’s rare, but who gives a fuck. 

An interesting development occurred. One of my guards, if that’s what you’d even call them, approached me. He had just gotten off the phone, and informed me that my plans for the day were going to be different. Apparently the big boss got held up at work, so he wouldn’t be joining me for dinner.

Am I supposed to be upset about that? Well, I certainly wasn’t. Who cares. Seeing him would just make me feel worse. I hate how out of control I feel like he’s around. I almost find myself forgetting about all he’s done, when he speaks to me so calmly. Just thinking about it makes me feel dirty, like I should shower. 

I didn’t see a point in responding at first. But eventually, I spoke up before the guard could leave. I asked him why he was okay with this, what he sees everyday. He didn’t offer a response. But I noticed something. His breath hitched, I’m sure of it. 

Maybe there is another human being in this pseudo-prison after all.” 

A painful reminder of the past. It did hurt him at the time to have to miss out on an important day with you, even though Giorno was self aware to know his presence brought you little comfort. There had been emergency phone calls over an attack from former Passione members, retaliating for losing drug related income. 

The timing of it was awful, just thinking back to it reminds Giorno of the impatience he felt then. Hours were spent personally dealing with cleaning up what had happened, meaning he wasn’t able to see you as was originally planned. Orders were given back home to inform you of this change, though it’s now evident it impacted Giorno more than you. 

The last section piques his interest. You felt you had noticed guilt in one of the guards? The pool of men that Giorno had carefully sifted through are no strangers to witnessing barbaric acts. Such is the life of a gangster. In your state of heightened emotions, there’s a possibility you could’ve imagined it. 

The journal goads him to continue, unraveling the mysteries of your heart.

“I’ve gotten better at spotting the guards.

I can’t believe something like this is exciting to me, but it is these days. It’s kinda funny in a pathetic way, watching as they shrink back when I spot them. The guard from before is the one I recognize the most. I pretended to be hurt, and he came out of the shadows to check on me. 

I guess he wasn’t expecting me to turn around looking fine after my acting, because he didn’t leave right away. Before he got the chance, I asked what his name is. He sighed, probably relieved that he wouldn’t have to report to his boss about me being harmed. He said his name is Marco. 

At that point, it was my turn to be surprised. I guess he was too, given the slip up. I must confess, it felt nice talking to someone. It’s been so long since I’ve heard another person’s voice. He went to walk away soon after, but I stopped him. It’s not like they can use force to get rid of me, so why the hell not? 

I told him I was bored and wanted someone to talk to. And, for some reason… he stayed.” 

Giorno rereads this passage multiple times, scrutinizing it. So you managed to speak to one of the guards he assigned to watch over you? When he was recruiting within Passione for the position, he made expectations explicitly clear. They were not to interact with you unless an emergency calls for it. And if they felt the situation called for it, they needed to report it back to Giorno. 

Your safety is paramount in his eyes. Regardless of this being a minor grievance, this guard will be punished accordingly for breaking the rules Giorno set. All of them were put in place knowing that if you grew connected to someone and they you, possibilities of insubordination would blossom. 

The dates on the pages are getting closer to the current day, not many more entries left. 

“Marco and I have been speaking more frequently.

He gave me a rough idea of the conditions in which we can talk, only in certain blind spots and times where other guards aren’t around as often. I wish it wasn’t so complicated. In our rushed conversations, I’ve learned more about him. I didn’t really think I would get all that invested in this person, since he’s stood by and watched my situation for a while now.

But now it makes a bit more sense. He told me that his little sister is unwell, having to practically live in a hospital room. That this dirty job is the only one that can cover the full expenses, and that without it she wouldn’t last. I can’t say that I forgive him entirely yet, but… I guess I can sympathize. I wish there was more I could do to help. 

Her name is Lucia. One of the times we talked Marco told me she’s the strongest person he knows, staying dedicated to her studies despite having waning strength. She’s a few years younger than me, but I think we’d have gotten along well. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave this place, but I wish I could meet her one day. 

Having him to talk to is nice.” 

Ah... so that’s what it is then.

Unpleasant emotions rise within, feelings that Giorno long thought were gone. Times before when you were speaking freely with your friends, laughing among them and living your life to the fullest. Those times were he wanted nothing more than to join you, to have you by his side and share in the experience. His position shot down any hopes of that, the possibility of endangering you deterring him. 

It was a painful time. Knowing that what he wanted was close and yet so painfully far, just out of his reach. Giorno wanted you to look at him like that, mirth in your eyes and a smile on your lips. To enjoy outings to the movies like you did with your friends, to have inside jokes and memories to fondly look back on. 

Envy doesn’t begin to describe the hideous feeling that permeates within him. Giorno’s grasp on your journal feels weaker, fingers shaking as he flips to the next page. Predator-like intent shines on his visage, emerald eyes narrowed and grip tightening. Not typically one to dwell on what could’ve been, it’s rare Giorno would feel like this. He makes the most out of every situation, his resolve unwavering and sights set on a single goal. 

You throw all of it into a loop, his normal composure a long forgotten memory. 

“Today I played a game of checkers with Marco. 

I think he was letting me win, but it was fun nonetheless. Apparently one of the normal guards was tending to business elsewhere, so we had more time together. He’s kind, kinder than I would’ve ever expected. When we’re together I just forget about everything other than the present moment. 

For once, I don’t feel like a prisoner all on my lonesome. I don’t notice the heavy ring on my finger, the suffocating air of this villa that I despise. It’s just us, cracking jokes and learning about one another. It’s what I look forward to the most, what I hold onto even when Marco isn’t around. It makes me feel human again. Like I’m not [First] Giovanna, but entirely myself.

Smiling comes a lot more naturally these days. I can even find myself stomaching his presence easier, though I still don’t like when he’s around. As long as he doesn’t find out about Marco and I, I feel like I can get through this. Everyday I change the location of this journal, within the expanses of this mansion. 

I still wish there was more I could do to help Lucia. I suggested giving Marco some of this stupid jewelry to pawn off, but he said it’s too risky. It’s surreal to know even pawnshops in Italy are fiercely loyal to Passione’s Don, and would be too hesitant to purchase his wife’s jewelry in fear of retaliation. 

Having all this wealth surround me feels like a waste when I know there’s someone who could actually use it. As much as I don’t like the thought, maybe I could convince Giorno to help Marco somehow. I have a few ideas but they’re probably all too risky. He does always tell me, ‘If you ever want anything in this world, tell me.’ 

I want to help Lucia. I want to help Marco, who I’ve found myself caring for. 

I’ve never asked Giorno for anything really. I don’t know how to propose it without making him suspicious--” 

Giorno can’t stand to read it anymore. 

Closing the book and placing it down, he steeples his fingers together. It takes a great deal of effort to frustrate him, normal composure melting away. Is it betrayal? Hurt? Jealousy? Everything wraps around his person, the air in his office feeling thick. Loosening the tie around his neck, he takes a much needed deep breath. 

A flash of your smile from earlier this evening at dinner comes to mind. You called him by his name, maintaining eye contact and asking about his day. Lulled into a false sense of security, wanting to believe nothing more than the farce unfolding before him. Of course you didn’t love him back. He was a fool to have deluded himself into believing that. 

At his fingertips is his phone. With a single phone call, he could command the world to fall. To have this guard who failed him tortured in the worst ways imaginable, experiencing hell on earth. Or to even join Passione’s former boss in a never ending cycle of death, that stretches the lengths of eternity. 

So many possibilities. Yet none of them would soothe the agony of his heart. Completely and utterly alone once more, like his earlier days. Requited love was all but an illusion, a fog that has now been lifted. 

Giorno purses his lips, considering. Fingers drum against his desk, the sound reverberating across the empty room. Grabbing a hold of his phone, he calls upon someone who could help him deal with this traitor appropriately. A message must be sent, he thinks, that will set the tone within the organization. It will hurt you to lose this newfound companion, but it’s a sacrifice he is willing to make. It’s not like you need to know the details either. 

The phone rings. Once, twice. Before his second in command on the other line picks up. 

“Yo, Giorno? You’re calling pretty late,” Mista’s voice is chipper as ever, the distant sound of music playing in the background. “Everything alright?” 

Getting up from his chair, he walks over to the window that overlooks his garden. His beloved wife walks among the paths, bending down and inspecting a rose. Giorno remembers when he turned an object into that very flower, how your dull eyes lit up at the awe inspiring sight. 

This is ultimately all for you, he reminds himself.

“Yes, everything is fine. Are you free at the moment? I have a job for you.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Boys

Warnings: noncon/dubcon (rough sex, oral), deception, stalking, obsession.

This is dark!(cop) Steve and Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a break-in, the reader struggles with her trauma and paranoia but those meant to keep her safe might just be dangerous.

Note: Shout-out to @buckybarnesplumwhore​ who helped come up with this idea!! It was fun. We needed so cop Steve and Bucky and I needed a breather from Summertime Sadness. Hope you guys enjoy this wild ride. Love you guys!

Leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

You watched the men in their dark uniforms. One examined the contents of your book shelf as the other walked around the long sofa. You still felt as if you couldn’t breathe, still felt the plastic digging into your wrists, the blindfold a shroud over your eyes. The world was a haze in your fractured mind.

If you closed your eyes, you were still on the floor. Hands bound, ankles too. The black cloth kept you from seeing the strangers on the other side of it. Their footsteps ominous as they trode across the carpet to the hardwood. You heard them moving things, heard them touching your stuff, exploring your small apartment. 

You took a shaky breath and turned away from the officers as they searched the living room. They’d shown up shortly after you were found by the landlord. After the intruders left and you squirmed your way to the wall and kicked for over an hour. The policed had the cut ties in a plastic bag, the blindfold too.

“Did they say anything?” The blond officer asked from behind you.

“Only shushed me,” You said quietly. “Pushed me around… but nothing else.”

“Anything missing?” The dark-haired cop intoned. 

“Nothing I can see off-hand,” You turned back and crossed your arms. “I heard the opening the cupboards but… obviously I couldn’t see anything.”

The blond nodded and looked to the other. “Any valuables you have hidden?”

“There’s an envelope in my dresser. A jewelry box on top. They're still there. Other than the TV and maybe the laptop, I don’t know what else they would take.” You answered.

“And they didn’t do anything else to you besides tying you up.” The brunette asked. You stared at him a moment. He was familiar. The other too.

“No. No…” You shuddered. “I don’t know…”

“No other break-ins reported,” He added. “Neighbours didn’t see anything odd.”

“So if they didn’t take anything?” You wondered.

“Maybe thought they’d find more. Maybe chickened out of what they had planned.” The blond shrugged. “We haven’t found anything out of place.”

“What they had planned?” You repeated.

“Well…” The brown-haired cop took a deep breath. “They tied you up… Could’ve done anything.”

“You know how many there were?” The other asked quickly.

“No, but had to be more than one. Definitely.” You said.

“Two, three, more?” The blond prodded.

“I don’t know.” You touched your cheek as you felt ready to sob. “It was just so--so--”

“It’s okay,” He said. “Unfortunately, all we can do is file the report and turn in the restraints at the station. Can’t promise much result.”

“Maybe get your locks changed. A deadbolt. Use the chain,” The other added.

“Right,” You nodded meekly.

“Hey,” The other reached into his pocket. “We know it’s not much. That’s just the way these things go. Unfortunately.” He flicked a card out and held it towards you. “You call the precinct, ask for Rogers or Barnes.” You hesistantly took it from him. “My extension’s on there too.”

“Thanks,” You sighed. “Rogers…?”

“Yeah,” He raised a brow.

“Have we…” You tried to place the name to the face. “I think I know you.”

“Oh?” He shook his head.

“Couple weeks ago. Down at Central Youth Club? Kid named Rodney?” You asked. 

“Sticky fingers,” The brunette snickered. “I remember you now.”

“Heh, what are the chances,” Rogers said. “How’s the kid anyway?”

“I think you scared him straight,” You replied. “He’s a work in progress though.”

“So you work at the youth centre?” Barnes asked. “Anyone there that might have something to do with all this?”

“No, not that I can think of.” You wrung your hands. “The kids there, they aren’t bad, just lost.”

“Co workers?” Rogers asked.

“No,” You scoffed. “No, never.”

“Mmm,” Barnes grumbled. “Well, we might look into it just to be safe.”

“You never know. Outside of that, there’s not much else for us to go on.” Rogers hooked his thumb in his belt. “We’ll let you know if we find any leads.”

“Sure,” You followed them to the door. “Thanks again.”

“You just take care of yourself,” Rogers turned back as Barnes opened the door. “Never hurts to keep an eye out over your shoulder.”

“Alright,” You took the door handle as they continued into the hall. 

“You have a good night,” Rogers said and Barnes nodded in shared sentiment. “And don’t hesitate to call.”

“Sure,” You waved the cars between your fingers. “I will.”

You watched them go and the pit settled in your stomach. You slowly shut the door and turned the lock before you slid the chain into place. They must’ve picked it as there was no damage to the door. You shivered and pressed your back to the door. You wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

⚫

“What’s she up to?” Bucky asked as he came in the door; a paper bag in one hand and a tray of cups in the other.

“As much as usual,” Steve said as he leaned back in the chair and stretched his arms.

A laptop sat on the coffee table, open and bright as the lamps glowed yellow against the night blackening outside the windows. The house seemed empty these days, since Sharon had filed for the divorce. That was over a year ago. 

Irreconcilable differences. Bullshit. It was his job she hated. He didn’t have enough time for her, she claimed. He brought his work home too often. Well, what was she complaining about? He’d paid the mortgage and filled her closet with overpriced labels. He’d seen it coming but it didn’t make it any easier.

“That’s why I don’t bother with ‘em,” That was Bucky’s supportive response. No, Steve knew Bucky bothered with women, just not for very long.

Bucky dropped the bag and tray on the table beside the computer. “Hmmm,” He grumbled as he looked at the screen. She sat against the headboard, a book in her hands. She didn’t read much before her head shot up and she was searching the empty room. She never sat still for very long. She was as frightened as the night of the invasion. That was good.

Steve dug in the bag and took out a burger. His leg swayed lazily back and forth as he unwrapped it. “Think we should check in on her tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?” Bucky sat up and took a burger of his own. 

“Pop by the apartment, make up some bullshit about another break-in, something or the other,” Steve said. “Fix the camera in the kitchen.”

Bucky shrugged. “Nothing going on in the kitchen. Better we let her stew. She’s antsy. Close.”

“Wait…” Steve swallowed as his eyes zeroed in on the screen. “What is that?”

They watched as she sat back. Her book was closed on the night table as she held up the bright pink shape. It was the same vibe Bucky found the night they’d tied her up in the corner. She stared at it then slipped down slowly on the pillow. Both men leaned forward. 

She pulled up her tee shirt and slipped her hand past the elastic of her panties. Bucky hit a button and the frame zoomed in. Steve let out a long breath as she let out a small gasp. They could see her moving the toy beneath the cotton, the mic in her lamp caught every wisp of air that slipped from her lips.

Soon she was panting and moaning. Her legs were bent and toes pointed as she coaxed herself towards release. She muffled her orgasm as she came, one leg shot out and her back arched. She twitched and caught her breath. She pulled the toy out and let it fall to the mattress.

“Well…” Steve smirked. 

“Mmhmm,” Bucky shifted on the couch. “See… we wait. It’ll all fall into place.”

“Fuck,” Steve took another bite and swallowed before he continued. “I don’t know how long I can wait.”

“Trust me,” Bucky took a fry from the bag and popped it into his mouth. “It’ll be worth it.”

⚫

Adam was one of several counselours at the youth centre. After the attack, he hadq offered you a shoulder and an ear. You took it, briefly, but found yourself unable to put into words the fear and dread which had come to enshrine your life. 

Since that fateful day, he had driven you home every night. You were thankful, the crowds of the New York streets and the trains sent you into a spin. That night, you watched the lights streak through the window as the engine hummed. The car rides had grown comforting. At home, you were always alone; always vulnerable.

Often, you were silent. At work, you could force yourself to be like the old you for the kids. You could smile at them and ask about their problems. Show them how to fold an origami star or lead the daily tai chi session. It was routine, it was safe, it was assuring. 

In your apartment, there was no normal. Couldn’t be. Those men could return, they could easily break your lock, even the new thick deadbolt, and could do exactly as they had done before. Even worse. And they did that in your dreams during those short spurts you managed in the all-consuming dark.

The glare of street lights cleared in your vision and you stared up at your building. You picked at the strap of your bag. You let out a shuddery breath and Adam shifted in his chair.

“You okay?” He asked,

“Yeah, I just…” 

You looked through the windshield and your vision drew to a pinpoint. The man in the hoodie crossing the street, another loitering by the post, a third just opposite you with a cigarette between his lips. Was it them? Were they watching you right now? Would they strike again?

“You want me to…” He hesitated. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through but I can hang around for a bit. We can talk or not.” 

You looked over at him and sighed. You rubbed your cheek and thought. It might help to have company, even if just for an hour. He watched you but not in a way that made you uncomfortable; unpresuming and cool. He had a way of measuring his concern. You never felt coddled with him but always heard.

“Coffee?” You offered. “Tea?”

“Sure,” The deep lines of his forehead receded as he smiled. “Coffee sounds great.”

⚫

Your coffee machine let out a final, grating snarl. Adam sat along the counter that divided your kitchen from the rest of your apartment. He leaned on his elbows as he watched you fill two mugs and approach the other side. You slid on over to him, between the cream and sugar. He added a bit of each and stirred slowly. You took some cream and watched the dark coffee pale.

“So…” He began. “You thought about some time off at all?”

“Time off?” You repeated.

“A couple of days? You know you can’t go on like this.” He said. “Look I didn’t come here to play counselor but… those kids need you but not at your own expense.”

“I… can’t.” You inhaled the scent of your coffee but your stomach soured at the thought of it. “I can’t be here all the time. Can’t be alone all the time.”

“You got family? Parents? You should go see ‘em.”

“They don’t… know,” You admitted. “I couldn’t-- My mom warned me when I moved here. She was right. It’s not safe.”

“So? You think she’d be happy to know she’s right? Or do you think she’d be mother to her daughter?” He challenged.

You shrugged. “I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about it all the time. Don’t wanna think about it all the time.”

He nodded. “You do tai chi with the kids. Does it help?”

“The kids help. They have bigger problems and they’re so much younger and they’re so much braver.”

“Bravery is not a contest,” He pushed his coffee away. “You’re right, they have their own problems and you can’t shoulder them with your own. You should at least try to meditate on your own. Here. Reclaim this space for you. Don’t let them take it from you.”

“I can’t… breathe in here. It’s like walking into a furnace. I feel like I’m suffocating, like the flames are licking up at me. One wrong step and I’m nothing more than fodder.” You rubbed your forehead.

“You thought of moving?” He asked.

You laughed darkly. “Funny how that’s even more frightening. This place has become purgatory and yet, the outside, a world full of strangers, that is hell. Demons waiting with sinister thoughts; conspiring against me.”

“So… how do you get through the nights? You drinking?” He wondered.

“I bought a case of beer but couldn’t touch it. My neighbour offered me a puff but… not worth my job,” You said. “I just kind of am.”

“What about friends? It would be good to have someone with you,” He stood and slowly rounded the counter. 

“Busy. As always. Maybe they just don’t want to deal with the damaged victim,” You moped.

“So, is that it? You couldn’t save yourself so you save others from you?” He asked. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t know that.” You breathed. “I think about that day, I should’ve known. I heard them, I swear, when I unlocked the door but I just ignored that stabbing in my chest. Door was locked, how could anyone be inside? But then… they were waiting for me and… so stupid.”

“No,” He touched your arm shyly. “No, you weren’t because how can anyone expect humans to be so needlessly cruel?”

“Anyone with a brain,” You frowned. “I should’ve listened to my mom.”

“You need to let go. You have to realize that you can’t change the past but you can change the present. You don’t have to be helpless.” He insisted.

“Adam,” You looked up at him. You searched his pale blue eyes and slowly placed your hand over his. You drew it away from your arm and clung to his hand. He watched you, patiently, intently. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Okay,” He said softly. “Okay.”

“No, you--” You shook your head and huffed. You stood on your toes and pressed your lips to his. You pulled away slowly and stared at him. “So?”

He blinked and his fingers fluttered across his lips. “So,” He uttered. “You don’t have to be alone.”

⚫

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Bucky asked, his foot up on the coffee table as he slumped back on the sofa.

Steve hung his heavy jacket up in the closet before he made his way into the living room. “What?” He asked as he checked his watch.

“She’s got some dude with her,” He said darkly. 

Steve could hear her voice but couldn’t discern her words through the small speaker. “Turn it up.”

“Don’t think I need to,” Bucky dropped his feet to the floor and looked closer. He switched cameras as he watched her pull the tall blonde man through her living room. 

“I know him,” Steve sat beside his partner. “Works with her.”

He went silent and his jaw ticked as the pair fell onto the couch, entwined together in a fervour. His hand balled into a fist as a wave of anger swept through him. Seeing her with another man was stunningly infuriating. She was his; theirs. They’d been watching her for almost a month. She had become a staple of their lives.

“Well, can’t say what it’ll do for their working relationship,” Bucky scoffed.

Steve nodded and pushed his tongue along the inside of his lip. He was livid. He felt worse than he had a week ago when he saw that photo of Sharon and the big lunk she had dropped him for. Irreconcilable differences, indeed. Well, he didn’t need her anymore, he had a new girl. One that wouldn’t be so unruly. He’d make sure of that.

“Hey,” Bucky elbowed him. “It’s good. Means she close. She’s gonna fuck him and then what? One night stands don’t encourage a healthy professional environment and you know how these things go. One night isn’t gonna fix what we did. Not gonna fix her.”

Steve let out a long breath from his nostrils. He watched them undress each other frantically. His blood boiled. Bucky chuckled in amusement as he watched the screen closer. Steve began to wring his hands, he wanted to barge in and pummel this guy. They had put in all this work and he was reaping the benefits.

“I can’t watch this,” He snarled. 

“Come on,” Bucky turned to him. “You telling me this isn’t getting you hot.”

Steve glanced at the screen again. She was straddling him, she rode him slowly as her moans droned in the speakers. He couldn’t deny that his body was responding. That he was getting hard thinking of himself beneath her like that.

“It’s not supposed to be him,” Steve rasped.

“No, it’s not,” Bucky smirked. “But trust me, we can use this.”

Steve shook his head, confused. He glanced between Bucky and the laptop.

“Look, go, calm down, and I’ll explain when you’ve… cooled off.” Bucky clapped his shoulder. “Alright?”

“Fine,” Steve pushed himself to his feet, quick to turn away as his erection bulged inside his navy pants.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back. Bucky’s eyes were glued to the stream and the gentle mewls mingled with a deeper voice. Steve cracked his neck and headed upstairs. He didn’t miss the subtle zip that followed his departure. 

Before, before her, the house was unbearably empty. He just came home, watched some old western, and fell asleep before heading back out to the streets. At least when Sharon had still been there, he could talk to her, even if it was about nothing. He could at least pretend like his life was complete. Like he had meaning. 

He thought it would turn around eventually. That Sharon would be expecting by now and he’d be working to be a father. Well, those plans had gone to shit. So that meant this time, he had to plan better.

He went to the bathroom but didn’t bother to close the door. Bucky would be distracted for a while. He undressed in a stupor. His mind was a flurry of anger and impatience. He hung his belt on the door handle and kicked his shoes towards the hall. He let his clothes pile on the tile and stared at himself in the mirror. He pushed his shoulders back and took a deep breath.

He turned the faucet and stepped into the glass shower. It was recently renovated. He’d replaced the frosted barrier with an entirely transparent booth. He wanted to be able to watch her whenever he wanted. When they had her at last, she’d never escape his sight. Never.

He planted his hands against the wall below the shower head. He leaned on them heavily and let the hot water wash over his muscles. He closed his eyes and thought of that day. They were careful and perfect. They changed out of their uniforms, pulled on the masks and gloves just outside her apartment. They had been certain to hide in the stairwell until none were around. Bucky picked the lock in seconds.

Inside, they began their work. They placed every camera and tested them. The mics too. Then they waited. Steve was just as hard then when he heard her enter. He held his breath as he listened to her moving around. As she entered the bedroom, he slipped out from behind the door and seized her. Her struggles had her ass rubbing against his crotch.

It ached just the same as he thought about it. His right hand slipped and his fingers wrapped around his cock. He thought about her tied up and blindfolded on the floor. They searched further. No weapons but some sex toys and other naughty secrets. Steve still had the pair of lilac coloured panties he’d stuffed in his pocket. He’d made sure to keep them in his jacket when they returned in their uniforms.

He stroked faster and faster as he thought of the fear in her eyes. The way she’d shied away from him and Bucky. Then she softened as they asked her questions, offered her help. She was easy. Too easy. He thought of the blond man from her work and growled. Thought of her bouncing atop him. His body shook and he cried out as he came.

He couldn’t wait much longer.

⚫

You were almost done for the day. Your small office was really a closet attached to the rec room. You sent off an email then finished tidying up the game pieces left out by the kids. When you were done, you lingered behind the door and peeked out. Things had been awkward since that night. Adam hadn’t driven you since. You avoided him and your own shame. A moment of weakness.

The coast was clear. You crept out and waved goodbye to the receptionist behind the window. She smiled and trilled her own farewell. You were quick to escape as you feared she would alert the man you were avoiding.

You hugged your bag as you sat on the subway. Your phone vibrated in your hand and the screen lit up with a new email. The sender was unfamiliar; no title, either. You opened it and your nerves began to flurry. They never quite stopped but they pinged around wildly as the thumbnail loaded for a video.

You muted your phone before you hit play. You quickly hid your screen as the footage began. It was you on your couch, on top of Adam. What the fuck? You stopped the video and read the single subtitle beneath; I know what you did.

You felt as if you would vomit. You closed the tab and locked your phone. Your stop was coming up. You jittered at the door until they opened and raced through the station. You didn’t stop, out of breath by the time you reached your apartment on the fifth floor. 

You barely got your key in the slot to unlock it. You slammed the door behind you and threw your bag against the wall. You began to search for any sign, any flashing light, any glare of a lense. You tore books off the shelf, moved your TV from its stand, pulled every picture off the wall. You lost yourself in a mania.

You only stopped when a knock sounded at the door. Your heart was in your throat. You grabbed the broom from the closet and went to the door. You peered through the peephole. You flinched, confused. It was the same officers as before. You carefully opened the door and set aside the broom.

“Hello?” You greeted with a frown.

“Hey, again,” Rogers stood with hands on his hips. “Noise complaint.”

“Noise…” You realized then how the crashing and stomping must have seemed. “Sorry I was just…”

“What’s going on?” Barnes glanced past you at the mess in your living room. “You okay?”

“Fine.” You assured them weakly. “Just lost...something.”

They looked at each other before they turned back to you. “You sure?” Rogers asked. “It okay if we come in and just look around?”

“Uh, yeah,” You stepped back and pressed yourself to the open door. They entered and you slouched in shame as you reluctantly followed them.

“Whatever you lost must be really important,” Barnes neared the television still on the floor.

“I just... “

“You think maybe it was taken?” Rogers spun to look at you. “Maybe you didn’t notice.”

You nodded and hung your head. “Yeah, maybe. Look, I’m sorry.” You walked along the back of the couch. “I’ll keep it down. I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”

They were silent as they continued to look around. They didn’t believe you. Well, you were a poor liar.

“I… Someone’s watching me.” You almost whispered.

“What was that?” Barnes footsteps were deliberate as he neared the other side of the couch.

“Someone’s…” You lifted your head and cleared your throat. “Someone’s watching me since… since the attack.”

“Watching you? What do you mean?” Barnes asked.

“There’s… a camera, somewhere. That’s what I was looking for and…” You gulped. “I sound crazy.”

“No, no,” Rogers stood at the other corner of the couch. “How do you know someone’s watching?”

“I just… know it,” You cowered. “I… can’t tell you how I know.”

“Well, you’re going to have to if we’re gonna do anything about it.” Rogers said.

You chewed your lip and shook your head. “Nevermind. I’m just… crazy.”

“If you have proof of this, you need to show us.” Barnes crossed his arms.

“If you have anything that can support these claims and your withholding it, you could be charged with obstruction.” Rogers warned.

“Your case is still open,” Barnes added. “Anything you can give us will help it from being shelved.”

“I… no, it could ruin my career.” You shied away. “If you submit it then… I could be fired.”

“Well…” Rogers said and shared a look with his partner. “Say you show us and we don’t report it. An unofficial lead. Just between us.”

“Show you…” You quivered. “I…”

“I’m sorry, Miss, but if you have nothing to back up these claims, we can’t bother following up,” Barnes said. “And you could be charged on a false report.”

“What if I just promise to keep it down?” You asked.

“That’s not how this works.” Barnes shook his head. “Look, we responded to a call here. We need something.”

You were silent for a moment. “Then I can take a fine for the complaint.”

“If someone is watching you, don’t you think it better to have us looking out for you?” Rogers insisted. “Especially after the attack.”

You blanched at the word. Attack.

“They could strike again,” Barnes stated.

You sighed and nodded. You passed Rogers and grabbed your bag from beside the door. You opened your phone and searched for the email. Your eyes stung as you held it up. His eyes rounded as he registered what was on the screen and you rescinded your hand. You pressed the phone to your chest.

“See,” You said. “They’re watching me.”

Rogers thought for a moment, his toe tapped as his blue eyes searched the wall behind you. “We can’t let you stay here. It’s not safe.”

“But… but you can’t… you…”

“We’ll keep that little video between us,” He said gently. “But in good conscience, I can’t let you stay.”

“So… you taking me in?” You asked. 

“They don’t process people for noise complaints,” Barnes assured. “And I doubt you’d want us to make up some other charge. Sure that would be quite the mark on your record.”

“So…”

“You got friends?” Rogers asked. “A couch to crash on?”

“Hmmm,” You opened your phone and scrolled through your contacts. 

Maya was out of town til Friday, Ashley didn’t have much room and her fiance wasn’t your biggest fan, and everyone else was outside the city. Adam was a definite no. “No… I… No one in the city.”

Steve pursed his lips as he thought. “Well,” He started carefully. “It’s a bit unorthodox but… I got a couch, a whole guest room actually. I could… see ya through the night and you can figure something out in the morning?”

“Oh?” You were taken aback at the offer. “I don’t know… I’d hate to… intrude.”

“You wouldn’t,” He said. “I’m on duty til midnight so I’ll drop you off, you’ll have the whole place to yourself for a couple hours at least.”

You furrowed your brow as you thought. “Couldn’t you get in trouble?”

“Only if anyone finds out,” Steve said. “You’re not gonna rat me out, are you, Barnes?”

Barnes chuckled. That was his answer.

“And if I say no?”

“Then we’d be obligated to seize your phone as evidence in the open case and we would charge you with obstruction.” Barnes stated plainly. “If we left you here and something happened, that’s on us.”

“Alright,” You relented. “Okay. I guess… you’re right.”

“Okay,” Steve said. “Why don’t you grab your stuff and we’ll wait for you in the hall?”

You nodded and attempted a smile. It fizzled as that same terrible doom nestled in your stomach. You shrugged it off as nothing more than the video on the phone and the unsettling knowledge that you had been under observation for so long. The officers closed the door behind them, their shadows loomed beneath the door. You’d be safe with them.

⚫

Rogers, rather Steve as he requested you call him, had a nice house. Barnes grumbled that his name was Bucky but was less insistent. Steve showed you in, a brief tour before he left. The place was neat; orderly even. The carpet in the living room was recently vacuumed, the television sat on a large stand with alphabetized movies lining its lower shelves. Every inch of the room was carefully arranged.

Except for the laptop. The computer sat on the coffee table, closed and lifeless. You wondered if he had left it there in a hurry or if that was just the place for it. You paced around the room and overanalyzed every inch of it. Anything to distract you from what had led you here.

When your nerves finally relented, you climbed the stairs to the guest room where he had left your bag. You changed into a pair of pajama pants and a cropped tee. You’d grabbed the wrong one. You tucked away your old clothes and left the bag against the wall. You closed the door and crawled into bed with your phone. 

You opened your Spotify and lowered the volume so that the tones floated through the air softly. You let the music lull you in this unfamiliar place. You wrapped yourself in the thick duvet and curled up on the bed’s edge. You drifted off and your dreams carried you back to your apartment.

You were roused once by footsteps passing your door. You sat up frantic and raced over to ease it open. It was only Steve. He disappeared through a door and you fell asleep once more; this time to the hum of the shower across the hall. This time, you didn’t dream.

When you awoke again, the sun shone in through the lace curtains and you sat up with a groan. You hadn’t slept so well since before the break-in. You stretched and stood with a yawn. You tidied your hair with your fingers and crept out to the hall. You listened for any hint of movement. Maybe he was still sleeping.

You carefully descended the stairs. You rubbed your eyes as you entered the living room. You stopped dead beside the couch. The laptop was open and on. The screen shone back at you. The air went out of you and you stumbled around and dropped down onto the couch. 

You apartment was clear across the screen. The cameras flicked between each room. The stream was live, the place was still a mess. You squinted and tried to understand. How? What was going on? You stood and scurried around the couch. Steve blocked your path and coffee splashed over the edge of the mug in his hand.

“Woah,” He grabbed your shoulder and steadied you. “I thought I heard you. I made you a coffee.”

“Steve,” You pulled away from him. “What the hell is going on?”

He didn’t seem bothered by your panic or your discovery as he smiled over at the laptop. He set you mug down on the table and turned to face you.

“What? I just wanna keep you safe.”

“How did you-- I don’t--” Your breath hitched as you backed away from him.

“Just sit down and have your coffee and we’ll talk.” He reached out to you.

“N-no, I… wanna go.” You gulped. “Steve, I’m going.”

He tilted his head, amused. You edged around the table to the other end of the couch. He didn’t move. But as you made to pass the sofa, you were blocked again. Bucky emerged from the kitchen. He closed you in as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“What the-- You… you better let me go or-- or---”

“You’ll call the police?” Bucky laughed. “Go ahead.”

You winced and looked between them. Your head spun. “It was… you. Wasn’t it?”

“We had to show you,” Steve said. 

“Show me?” You sputtered.

“That you need us. That you aren’t safe by yourself.”

“No, no, I was safe without you,” You spat. “You’ve been…. Oh, I’ve been so… stupid.”

“You’re lucky it was us. This city is full of scum. Could you imagine if one of them had picked your lock? You know what we’ve seen done to girls like you?” Bucky neared and you backed away, your leg knocked the corner of the table. “Those men, they do worse. Cut girls up and if they don’t just maim them, they kill them. Leave them on display as a little present for us.”

You were stopped suddenly. Steve pressed himself to you as his arms wrapped around your body. “We don’t want to hurt you,” He cooed. 

“No,” You wriggled and tired to kick at Bucky. “No, no, no. Please--”

Bucky caught your legs and lifted them. You continued to squirm as the men held you between them. “Now, we don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky grunted. “But if we need to, we will… we can.”

“Why are you doing this?” You whined. “Ple-e-ease.”

“Mmm, I love to hear her beg,” Bucky said as they angled you around the couch. “‘Please, Officer, he’s just a kid.’”

You struggled harder as he imitated you. Your veins turned to ice as you recalled that day. Uneventful but for their visit. You hadn’t thought much of it; you’d dealt with enough cops at your job. But they had taken it as more. As an opportunity.

“Now, stop,” Bucky squeezed your legs. “You’re gonna hurt yourself or we’re gonna have to hurt you.”

They carried you towards the stairs. You stilled but trembled in their grasp. “Please…” You croaked. “Please… don’t do this.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Steve’s arm hugged your waist as his hand brushed across the bare patch of your stomach. “You’ll be safe here. I made it safe for you.”

“Ugh, no,” You wriggled again but it was hopeless. They were both too strong.

They ignored your resistance easily and past the door of the room where you’d slept. They took you inside the one at the end of the hall, a large bed inside. They dropped you on it and you tried to hop up. Bucky caught you by your arm and forced you back down. Steve grabbed your other wrist as they pulled you up the mattress.

There were cuffs attached to the posts. They forced your wrists into them and locked them tightly. You kicked your legs desperately as they pushed themselves off the bed. The metal dug into your skin.

Bucky crossed to the desk by the window and took a pair of scissors. He neared the bed again and Steve approached him. He held out a hand and they had a silent exchange. Bucky handed the scissors over and Steve smiled. 

Bucky grabbed your ankles and held them down as Steve got up on his knees and carefully cut along the side of your pants. He tugged them out from beneath you and tossed them away from him. Then he cut away your shirt and you sniffed back the tears as they burned in your eyes. Your panties were all that were left. 

Steve handed Bucky the scissors and climbed between your legs. He held them down as he bent to nuzzle your cunt through the panties. He inhaled and sighed. You quivered helplessly. “Steve, please,” You begged. “I’m scared.”

His hands slipped from your legs and you tried to kick him. Bucky caught your left ankle and squeezed. “I’ll break it. Now stop.”

You went limp and let out a pathetic sob. Steve’s large hands stretched across his stomach as he pulled aside your panties with the other. His cool tongue made you squeak as it delved between your folds. Shyly at first, as if tasting you, as if savouring you. You closed your eyes and clutched your hands in fists. It shouldn’t feel good. 

Bucky paced around the bed. You opened your eyes and found him watching. His jaw clenched as his eyes darkened. His gaze met yours and he slid his tongue across his bottom lip.

“You like fucking that dude on your couch like a slut?” He snarled. Your lips parted and you shuddered. Steve’s tongue plucked at your core. “Well, you’re gonna like this a whole lot more.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip as you whined. Steve’s tongue circled your clit and he suckled. He dragged two fingers along your folds and spread your juices. Your thighs tenses and you bent your legs as you tried to fight the rising waves. You couldn’t. You succumbed with a long moan, rattled as you writhed. He purred as you came into his mouth.

He drew away slowly. He let your panties slip back into place and Bucky took his spot. He pushed your panties against your slick cunt until they were soaked. He grinned and pulled at the seams until they snapped. He ripped them out from beneath you and threw them at Steve who admired them and sniffed them without shame.

You let out a yelp as Bucky shoved two fingers into you without warning. He rammed them in and out a few times before he slowed. He turned his hand and curled his fingers as he pressed his palm to your clit. He squeezed and moved his hand frantically. You couldn’t help your yipes, the shock as the tension built again, this time quicker. 

He forced the orgasm from you and left you sore and groaning. He licked his fingers clean and shoved them in your again. This time he was slower but your body responded. He drew you to the edge and stopped. He pushed himself away and wiped his fingers along your thigh. He stood and patted Steve on the shoulder.

“You first,” Bucky said. “While she’s fresh.”

Steve nodded and rolled his tongue behind his bottom lip as he looked to you. You averted your eyes as he began to undress. Each piece of clothing fluttered to the floor loudly in the deathly silence. The mattress shifted and you still couldn’t look. He bent over you and his mouth closed around your nipple. 

He played with your tits for a while. Tended to them as if reluctant to move on. He plied kissed along your stomach, your hips your vee. He sat up on his heels and draped your legs over his thick thighs. His cock prodded at your cunt and he rubbed his tip along your folds.

He eased into you as he shifted closer. Had your ass off the mattress as he sank to his limit. You let out a moan, as much pain as pleasure. Your walls were snug around him and clenched around him. He began to rock slowly. Each time he wiggled his pelvis against you, sinking as far as he could.

As his pace mounted, you sensed movement at the end of the bed. Clothes thrown to the floor heavily. Bucky came around and stood at the side of the bed. He lifted a knee onto the bed and then another. He neared and lifted your head with one hand. You tried to turn away and his other hand went to your throat.

“Don’t even think of biting me,” He sneered. “Or you won’t have teeth left.”

“Hey,” Steve warned between huffs. “Be nice… Oh, sweetheart.”

Bucky’s hand went to your jaw and he squeezed until you opened your mouth. He slid his cock past your lips in a single motion and cradled your head as he thrust down your throat. He groaned as you gagged and spasmed. The static built and threatened to erupt as Steve sped up. 

Your eyes rolled back and you came, your cries muffled by Bucky’s cock. Slobber spilled out around your lips as he fucked your mouth and kept time with Steve’s increasing pace. You struggled to breath around Bucky as your body bounced against Steve. Then suddenly it stopped.

Steve pulled out and let out a groan. Bucky took it as a cue and slipped out of your mouth so quick you choked. Steve stood and went to the night stand. He opened the drawer and pulled out a key. He held it up and looked to Bucky.

“We’ll flip her.” He said and Bucky nodded.

He unlocked the cuff from around the bedpost and handed the key to Bucky who released your wrist from the other. They turned you over and held you down as they twisted your arms behind your back and cuffed them together. You were left face down on the mattress as they moved around you.

You were dragged back and Steve climbed up to sit between you and the bedframe. He lifted your head and rubbed his cock against your lips. You opened and he pushed himself to your throat. You were ashamed. Ashamed because that voice in your head told you to be. Because you body would not obey that voice.

You felt Bucky behind you. He slipped his hands under your hips and lifted your ass as he knelt between your legs. He guided his cock along your folds and plunged into you just as roughly as he had with his fingers. You were jolted forward and gagged on Steve’s cock as it hit the back of your throat. 

And they picked up their tempo again. They moved your body back and forth between them, your back arch painfully. Bucky’s hand spread across your ass and he slapped you. He pinched you and you groaned around Steve and Bucky spanked you again. Steve kept your head bobbing up and down as you knotted your fingers together behind your back.

You hummed as you came. Your walls tightened around Bucky and you felt the gush around him. He went faster, the sounds of flesh grew louder, and Steve’s voice flowed through you as he moaned. He swore and his hands clutched your head as he stilled you. He came with a twitch and spilled down your throat.

He pulled out and his cum leaked from your mouth. He traced his finger around your lips as he played with the mix of his semen and your spit. He pushed two fingers against your tongue until you sucked on them and he pet your head in approval. He rescinded his head and moved so that your head rested against his thigh.

Bucky didn’t waver. He fucked you even harder as Steve’s hand rubbed your shoulder. Bucky grunted then growled. He didn’t stop though and only did when he had cum entirely. He stayed inside you as he caught his breath. He rolled his hips and sighed.

“I told you,” Bucky said. “It would be worth the wait.”

[tallycraven]

thoughts on a raylla hercules AU?

ohhh? OH. I can see that, but with major changes to mythology to match themes, maybe? if disney did it so can i 

raelle is the daughter of hades and a mortal. not that she knows that.

her mother, hades, had to hide her and leave her in the mortal realm in fear of retaliation from the olympians. they would take her for their own, raise her as an arrogant demigod, charge her with duties of honor and glory-- send her to die on one of their battlefields. hades couldn’t have that. 

so, she snuck her baby away and hid her amongst the bushes, tucked between the safety of two cypress trees, hoping for her a better future than to be bound to the olympians or the darkness of the underworld. hades left her with nothing but a small bone charm, inscribed with her given name and imbued with the same kind of magic as the helm of darkness; something to keep her hidden from olympian view.

she was found near a ravine by a couple of farmers; a wife and husband that had been praying to the gods for a baby for so long that they hardly blinked at the chance of getting to raise the small pale being that’d been abandoned to the wolves.

raelle was raised with love and care despite the meager wealth of her parents, but she always felt like something was missing. 

she’s absurdly strong, for one thing. for another, she’s got a silver tongue and often wins any debate or bet with barely a bat of her lashes. 

this, in combination with her paleness -- fair of skin and hair with eyes close to frost on those rare snowy winter days -- led her to be shunned and feared by other children and villagers.

her adoptive parents, seeing her distress over the feeling of not belonging, shows her the bone charm, tells her of the runes inscribed along the back and the place where they found her. a gift from the gods, they call her.

it still doesn’t explain anything. 

raelle makes the decision to take the charm and climb to a temple of athena in search of answers.

when she makes it there, it’s nothing but a vast hall of stone and offerings. no goddess, no moment of clarity, no answers. 

she’s in the midst of storming off in a rage when an owl lands on a perch and stares at her inquisitively.

it speaks to her. it speaks to raelle in a voice that’s strong and assertive, if not a bit amused. 

“i do not know who you are. but if you are a godling, you must prove yourself before the eyes of gods and men.”

a godling? raelle wants to ask. but talking to an owl seems ludicrous. so she just stares and blinks like an idiot.

the owl just laughs. tells raelle of a place to find a woman in self-imposed isolation. a hermit who will guide her along, wishes her luck before lifting away on magnificent wings and disappearing into the night.

the trek to find this hermit is hard and raelle almost quits and turns around more than once. but where would she go? to a village where everyone fears her? no. the only way forwards is onwards. 

raelle finds the hermit on a secluded island off the mainland. her yard is littered with half-finished marble statues and shooting targets with perfectly placed arrows stuck into them. swords, spears, and shields are lined and stacked in orderly fashion at the bases of trees.

right as raelle is about to knock on the door to the lone homestead, the door swings open to reveal a tall woman with dark skin and a piercing stare.

“godling.”

“you know who i am?”

“so you do think you’re a godling?”

“what? no, i--”

“prove it.”

her name is anacostia. she turns out to be the most no-nonsense taskmaster that raelle’s ever heard of.

she didn’t know she could feel sore, but the first two weeks in, she’s pretty sure her arms are going to pop off of her body. she complains and anacostia only raises an eyebrow before making her take another lap around the island.

it pays off though. her lithe form fills out with lean and hard muscle; her strength adopts accuracy and grace.

months pass and raelle trades her shabby farm clothes for a clean white tunic and armor to match.

anacostia doesn’t speak it, but raelle can see the charmed pride in her eyes when they sit quietly by the fire at the end of raelle’s last day as anacostia’s student.

“where will you go next?” anacostia asks

“back to the temple, i suppose.”

“strength does not make a hero, raelle. tasks and duty do.”

“what does that mean?”

“athena told you to prove yourself before the eyes of gods and men.”

“alright, so, what?” raelle frowns, staring into the fire. “i go slay a monster, save a damsel, rescue someone’s pet dog, and then i get access to olympus?”

it’s one of the few times anacostia has openly laughed and raelle feels weirdly justified by it.

“come with me.” raelle says.

anacostia starts shaking her head, leaning back against the tree behind her. “i can’t.”

“why not? you’re my mentor, i can’t do this without you.”

silence, for a while.

“i have duties i must attend to.”

“you’re alone on an island all day, what duties do you possibly have? counting and sweeping leaves?”

“training a mouthy godling, apparently.”

silence, again. anacostia watches raelle from across the fire. five minutes pass before she gives in with a nod. 

“okay. i’ll come.”

they set out in the morning in the direction of thebes. it’s a long walk along the main road, so they slip off it at one point, going through the woods to cut half a day off travel.

that’s when raelle hears her. 

a melodic voice with lilted accent, clean and crisp and irritated. 

raelle stops in her tracks and drifts towards the noise, much to anacostia’s annoyance. 

“what are you doing, godling? get back here.”

“i think i hear a damsel.” raelle replies half-joking with a quirked eyebrow-- an expression that she definitely lifted from anacostia.

she sticks her head out from behind a tree and spots the source of the voice: a girl in a purple dress adorned in golden jewelry talking to a towering centaur.

raelle’s been through a lot the past few months, but nothing has left her quite as stunned and dazed as this stranger. it takes the conflict between the stranger and the centaur becoming physical to get raelle out of the bushes and into action.

anacostia sighs and steps out of the bushes to watch raelle’s first real fight.

it’s fairly easy to beat the centaur and send him running off into the woods. it’s not as easy to get her brain to properly communicate to the gorgeous stranger, now soaked by stream that the centaur had dropped her in.

“are you alright?” 

“i had that under control.” the stranger grumbles, wringing water out of her clothes and brushing her dark hair back.

“an extra hand never hurt though, he had two extra legs. it was an unfair fight.” raelle counters.

the stranger seems to smile at that, and after squeezing as much water out from her dress as she can, she offers raelle a smile. 

“scylla.”

“i’m sorry?”

“that’s my name.”

“oh... oh!” raelle’s eyebrows draw together into a crinkle. “like the monster?”

“my parents had a sense of humor.” scylla drawls, “what about you, hero?”

“uh, i’m.. uh,” so much for a silver tongue. “raelle.”

scylla blinks at her and hums in acknowledgement before turning to glance at anacostia, who’s still watching from the treeline.

“well, rae,” scylla smirks, “it was a pleasure. thank you for the soak. catch you around.”

she turns to go and raelle finds herself rushing two steps forward, “wait! can we escort you? we’re headed to thebes. these woods are dangerous and--”

“i’ll be alright,” scylla laughs, turning as she continues to walk away, “i’m a big girl-- can slay my own centaurs. bye now, hero.”

it’s with pitiful heart eyes that raelle raises her hand to give a weak wave. “bye...”

raelle stays rooted to the ground for at least two minutes before a pat to her back makes her jump in surprise.

anacostia only looks at her with that damned quirked eyebrow and hard gaze. 

“hope you enjoyed that, because you have actual work to do that doesn’t involve making eyes at good-looking strangers.”

“did you see her, ana? gods, she was... wow”

anacostia rolls her eyes and walks away, towards the direction of thebes.

it takes raelle more than a second to follow after, an extra bounce in her step. -------------- x   --------------

scylla sighs as she makes her way through the woods, running a hand through her slowly-drying hair.

the mission was a bust and she’s hungry as fuck. 

she’s weighing the pros and cons of hunting down her own meal when two figures step into her path.

they’re both tall, cloaked in familiar dark blue robes and donning small silver pins in the shape of a bident by their calsps. 

one of them has red hair and a patient smile, hands held in front of herself as she stands in scylla’s way.

the other is less approachable. her hood is pulled up, hiding her dark skin and dismissive frown. 

“ah. great. i was wondering when i was going to get a visit from henchmen one and two.”

“that’s not very nice.” the red-haired one pouts, hands unclutching to move to her hips in an indignant stance.

“tally and i come all the way up here to make sure you accomplish your task only to find you soaked to the core and centaur-less.”

“abigail, there’s no need to berate her yourself.”

that’s when a heavy heat rolls in out of nowhere and scylla feels herself stiffen in response.

the shadows in the trees are looming, coalescing and giving form to a tall and imposing woman with threatening posture and an expression that gives away nothing but a hint of disappointment.

“did i not ask you to bring me nessus? to join the cause?”

scylla sighs, leans up against a tree so that at least she’s protected from behind. “yes, hades, i’m sorry, hades.”

“sorry doesn’t make up for a lost ally.”

“well, i almost had him, but then he got handsy and some hero named raelle stumbled out of nowhere and scared him off!” 

hades freezes, all her composure melted into a singular expression of confusion and awe and surprise.

“raelle?”

tally tilts her head and abigail straightens out from her lax lean against her own tree.

“that’s the name she gave,” scylla frowns at the growing tension, already looking for a way out of this conversation and away from these three.

but there is no way out. not with her soul bound and in hades’s possession. not with her closest two soldiers standing right there. scylla grumbles quietly to herself and presses harder against the tree.

then hades says the one thing she hates hearing hades say.

“i have a new job for you.”

[songficsbyrissi]

I Luv Your Girl (Erik Killmonger x Reader)

“Your Girl chose me, Don't be mad.

Kelly told y'all don't bring 'em in the club,

The way she rock that, got the boy in love,

And I pray that y'all ain't serious, cause seriously shes on my dick.” - The Dream

************************

Tory Lanez’s “Broke in a Minute” emerged from Erik’s Audi R8’s speakers as he drove to the club with 3 of his boys in the car. They’ve been talking about this club for the longest and have been bugging Erik to come with them. Erik finally took a break from his work and decided to come to the club with them.

I ain't been broke in a minute, don't get offended

Tore off the bow in a Bentley, fucking your ho in her kidney

Fuck up the city, I do not dance, I jiggy

Gun is tucked under this Fendi

I like it, I spend it, I just came right out the jeweler

The ice on my neck, and my wrist, and my fist, I ain't finished

Once Erik pulled up to the nightclub, he put his luxury vehicle in park and glanced at the sign on the front of the club.

Envy.

‘Interesting name’ he thought to himself. ‘Shit could be fun’

His boy Jason broke him out of his thoughts by shaking his shoulders from the backseat.

“Oh shitttttt! We here! I’m telling you, my nigga, this club is lit!”

“They got the finest bitches in here.” Another one named Trey who was sitting next to Jason, added.

“You won’t regret this shit, my nigga.” The one in the passenger seat next to him, Sean concluded.

Erik glanced at all of them. “I better not or y’all niggas paying me gas money.”

The men guffawed at Erik’s statement as they exited the vehicle but Erik was as serious as a heart attack. He was fine with the usual club they went to that was closer to his house and not in another city. Unlike his friends, Erik wasn’t hitting the club, desperate to find a woman to take home. He came to have fun and if a shorty caught his eye, he might fuck her in an alley or his car. He avoided taking girls home since that crazy one-night stand that wouldn’t leave that one time.

Erik shuddered at the memory. That was another reason he didn’t go to the club looking for women. Because 95% of the women in there are crazy, horny bitches and he didn’t have the time to deal with that.

Once they got inside, Erik could see his friends weren’t lying. The club was pretty live. Intoxicated and sober people dancing, drinking and having a good time. It was too soon to tell if this club was going to be a waste of time or not. The friends separated and Erik went to the bar to order a drink. He noticed a group of girls staring at him, barely being discreet and whispering amongst themselves. Someone in the group liked him but was too shy to come up to him. Erik scoffed to himself.

He hated it when women never shoot their shot. They expected him to do it all the time. The worst he could say was no. Just come up and ask. Erik knew he was looking handsome with his red v neck t-shirt, black jeans, and Bred 1s on his feet. To top it off, he was wearing gold jewelry which consisted of his gold studs, gold chain, and gold Rolex to match the gold canines in his mouth. He leaned against the bar with his drink in his hand and surveyed the area. That’s when his eyes fell on you.

A beautiful black woman with her natural hair styled in a top knot bun. You were dressed in a sexy red 2 piece bandage spaghetti body con dress. The color complimented your skin tone. You wore it with gold heels. You were matching with him and didn’t even know each other. Erik didn’t think too much into it because 1. You weren’t the only one in this club wearing red and 2. You were sitting on the lap of some man and the way his arm wrapped around your waist, he knew you were taken.

He clicked his tongue. Damn shame. You were the only girl who really caught his eye.

As Erik continued to chill at the bar and downing his drink, he kept getting the stares and looks from beautiful women who couldn’t use their words and considered the stares as them shooting their shots.

“What are you drinking?” Erik heard a woman next to him ask. He turned to see that it was you. Probably getting a drink for your man.

“It’s Henny straight. Your man don’t seem like A Henny drinker. He seems to do light.”

You glanced up at him and he expected you to have an annoyed face but you were amused instead and began to laugh.

“Fuck him. This drink ain’t for him. It’s for me.” You turned to the bartender, leaning over the counter. “Let me get Henny straight.”

Erik raised an eyebrow, observing you as you waited for your drink and once you did, you didn’t babysit it like he did. You drank it all right then and there and he was amazed. Your eyes fell on him and his drink, causing you to giggle.

“Is that one drink your child? Why you babysitting?”

Erik glanced down at his drink and back at you. “I’m DD tonight so I can’t get fucked up.”

“How responsible of you.” You responded in a flirtatious tone, closing the gap between the two of you. Erik was getting turned on. You stuck your hand out.

“I’m Y/N.”

His hand took yours, shaking it. “Erik.”

“Erik.” You repeated his name as if you were trying it out. “I like it. I like how it rolls off my tongue.”

Wow, you were a bold woman and that turned Erik on even more. You weren’t beating around the bush. You were making it clear that you wanted him and it made him want you even more.

“You got a girlfriend or anyone who would be upset that I’m talking to you, Erik?” You questioned brushing a piece of lint of his shoulder. He was astonished now. Who are you?

“Besides those girls over there that have been taking their sweet ass time to talk to me, no. I’m single. I know you’re not.”

You rolled your eyes as Ms. New Booty by Bubba Sparxxx began to play.

“Ooooh that’s my song! I’ll see you later, Erik.” You winked at him, grabbing your second drink and heading to the dance floor. He watched you go and dance and continued to slowly sip his drink. A man tapped Erik on the shoulder and his nostrils were flaring. It was your man. Erik thought he wanted to fight but his anger is mainly directed at you.

“My girl was over here flirting with you?” He inquired, still glaring at you on the dance floor.

Erik was stuck. He was beginning to like you and didn’t want to get you in trouble with your man but on the other hand, if he lied for you, your man was probably not going to believe him. Besides, Erik had better things to do than to get caught between a lovers’ quarrel.

“Nah man. We were just talking about drinks.” He decided to lie so he wasn’t caught in some drama. It’s like the man didn’t hear one word Erik said when he turned to him, clenching his fists.

“You know she’s just doing this shit on purpose? She just flirting with you to piss me off. Don’t take her seriously because I promise you she coming home with me.”

Your boyfriend walked back to his seat and when the song ended, you returned to the bar to chat Erik up some more. You two were in a deep, engaging conversation when Erik looked above your head to see your man glaring at you two.

“Ooh this my song! Dance with me, Erik!”

Before he could say anything, you got up from the stool you were sitting on and grinded slowly against his crotch as he held your waist going along with the rhythm. You turned around, rubbing your pelvis against him and he felt the blood rushing to a certain area of his body.

“Whine slow for me, Tic-Tock for me, Baby you drop it like that.” You sang along as you continued wining with your arms around his neck. Erik looked back to see your man still mugging you guys and put his attention back on you.

“Yo, maybe you should go back to your man. He looking mad as fuck right now.”

“Fuck that nigga.” You replied, still dancing on him.

Erik didn’t stop you. He really liked your ass. Practically loved you. When the song ended, you two returned to the bar where you ordered another drink. Erik could still feel your man burning holes through you two.

“Yo, shorty, your man....you sure you don’t want to go back to him?”

You let out a dry laugh as you stirred your drink. “Didn’t I tell you fuck that nigga?”

“Well that nigga came over here when you were on the dance floor by yourself and said you were just trying to make him jealous. You fine and all, baby girl but I ain’t letting no female use me to make their nigga mad. I’m good on that.” Erik made an effort to leave the bar when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him. You sighed deeply.

“Listen. At first, when I started talking to you, it was to piss him off, I’m not going to lie. I’ve caught this man cheating a couple times before in our relationship and I forgave him each time like a dumbass. Tonight at the club, I caught him flirting with some bitch here and I decided that two can play at that game. I picked the wrong nigga though because once I got to know you, I started to like you and I’m realizing that my relationship with Gerald has died a long time ago. We were just together for convenience at this point.”

Erik began snickering and you had no idea why. “Your nigga’s name is Gerald?”

You joined in on the laugh fest. “Yes! Do you realize how hard that was to moan out? Whenever he asked “whose pussy is this?”, I would just fake a moan. How am I going to confidently say a nigga named Gerald owns this pussy?”

Erik kept chuckling, with his hand sliding up and down your bare thigh. “You’re better off screaming out any other name.”

You smirked deviously. “Would Erik be a better name?”

A smirk grew on his face as well. “Yes it would.”

You leaned in close, pressing your lips against his and he kissed back passionately, holding the back of your neck to suck your bottom lip and your tongue.

You smiled when you broke away from the kiss. “Looks like my birthday is turning out better than I expected.”

“It’s your birthday? Well, I can make it even better if we get out of this club.” He bit his lip, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb.

You pulled back with a force and saw a very angry Gerald right in front of you. His back was towards you and he was facing Erik.

“Nigga, you crossed the line kissing my fucking girl!” He roared clenching his fists, ready to strike.

You pulled him back stepping between them. “I ain’t your girl! Not anymore!”

His glare softened as he looked at you. “What do you mean?”

Erik decided that he was gonna get in the drama. “Your girl chose me, baby boy! You fucked up too many times.”

You pushed Gerald away. “We’re done. Let’s go, Erik.”

Erik saw the pissed expression of Gerald’s face and held his hands up in defense, suppressing a laugh. “Your girl chose me. Don’t be mad. I’ll tell you one thing tho. Imma love her better than you did.”

Gerald took a swing at Erik but Erik dodged in time, causing your ex-boyfriend to spin and fall on the ground. He groaned in pain as everyone stared at him. Erik got in his face, cackling.

“YOU GOT KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT! BY YOURSELF!” He held his stomach, releasing boisterous laughter and calmed down. “Ok being deadass though, I kinda feel bad. But not that bad.”

“Imma....kill...you....nigga.” Gerald groaned while turning to the side.

“Hey this ain’t my fault, playboy. She chose me and you mad as hell at me. But shit, I would be mad too.” Erik glanced at you biting his lip and you smirked in response. He turned back to your ex. “She bad as hell.”

Erik grabbed your hand, leading you out of the club when you two ran into his group of friends he came with.

“What the fuck? Nigga we’ve been here almost every weekend and never picked up a bitch and this nigga E gets one on the first try? Ain’t that some shit?” Sean commented folding his arms as the other two shook their heads.

“Watch your mouth. She ain’t no bitch.” Erik stayed and dapped his boys up. “Aight y’all, be easy. I’m out.”

“Nigga, we came here with you!” Jason exclaimed in disbelief.

“Nigga turns into Mr. Bitches and forgets about his niggas.”

“Damn I forgot.” Erik looked at you. “You cool if I drop these niggas off?”

“Of course. They’re your friends.”

“Damn I like her already!” The 3 boys left the club with you and Erik. Once Erik dropped them off, he looked at you expectedly.

“So what you wanna do, birthday girl?”

“I don’t know. What do you have in mind?” There was a hint of lust in your eyes, causing him to pull you in another kiss.

“So How about I take you back to my house and celebrate your birthday right?”

“I would love that.”

And that night was the best birthday for you and the best club experience for Erik.

TAGS:  @lifelover4u @dessianna1 @brattywriters-anonymous @marvelmaree @purple-apricots @blackpinup22 @heavenwrites17 @slimmiyagi @cancerianprincess @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @vibranium-chakra @nerd-lovely @chaneajoyyy @ohliyaxoxo @chefjessypooh @yourfavoritefavorite @airis-paris14 @ljstraightnochaser @quietstorm-73 @msincognito67 @sociallyawkward18 @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @mareethequeen   @destinio1 @madamslayyy @thehomierobbstark @fd-writes @semianta @raysunshine78 @rbhp @fandom-fangirl22 @shaekingshitup @bakarilennox @queengodiva619 @this-glitter-pussay @itsqu33n @niqui87 @muse-of-mbaku @thickemadame​

[dcbbw]

Six Sentence Sunday January 3, 2021

I haven’t posted a Six Sentence Sunday in forever! Fortunately, for the first Sunday of 2021, I have managed to get words and thoughts out of my head and onto paper (or screen).

Everything is under the cut (and it’s a little bit of a lot)

The Life We Lived, Chapter 3:

His wife nodded and reached over into his plate to grab his fish sandwich. She wasn’t a fan of the seafood, but it was deep fried, and the bread was loaded with mayo, lettuce, tomato, onions, and jalapenos. It looked delicious.

She was on her third bite when her husband returned. His eyes widened in disbelief at seeing both of Riley’s hands gripping half his sub sandwich, mayonnaise dripping from her lips. Without a word, he sat down, pulled her beef lo mein in front of him. and began eating it.

“What did Thomas want? Is the job offer at the firm still open?” Riley licked her lips before taking another hearty bite.

Liam twirled flavorful noodles around the tines of his fork before spearing tender pieces of beef. His expression was thoughtful when he looked at his wife. “He offered me a case, but it isn’t immigration. It’s criminal. Murder.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “You’re not a criminal attorney.”

“I know enough to be a public defender,” Liam argued. “And it’s pretty open and shut. Apparently, the accused is admitting guilt; they just want to not get the death penalty or life with no chance of parole.”

Riley snatched her beef lo mein away from Liam; she shoveled a huge forkful in her mouth. “How much?” she asked suspiciously.

Liam’s eyes held hers. “One million even.”

Riley choked on her food. “What the FUCK?? When do you start?”

Liam chuckled softly before leaning over and kissing Riley with the slightest hint of tongue. “Not so fast, there. That’s a lot of money from a person admitting they’re guilty of murder, of all things. Which makes me think there’s more here than meets the eye.”

Riley nodded slowly. “So, you’re gonna think about it?” she asked hopefully.

Untitled #WackyDrabble #76:

The King stood at his study’s window, his dark eyes peering up at an even darker sky. He held a glass of scotch in one hand; he absent-mindedly shook it, causing amber liquid to swirl gently. In his other hand, he held a black velvet ring box. His eyes left the starry sky to look down at the box.

Inside was a symbol of his devotion, loyalty, and commitment. That he would slide onto his fiancée’s finger tomorrow morning.

He would have a wife. Cordonia would have a Queen.

Except Cordonia was an exacting mistress, not easily appeased. Demands for an heir would soon follow, then a spare would be required.

This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

With a sigh, Liam tucked the jewelry box into his suit jacket pocket before closing the curtains; he turned away from the window and sank into the chocolate leather of his oversized chair. His eyes roamed over his desk: personal photographs, stacks of paperwork divided by progress and priority, a Bible of the Orthodox Church.

He lifted his head at a knock on the door; hope and eagerness flooded his body as he called for his visitor to enter. It fled as quickly as it came when he saw who his visitor was.

White Sock Fuckery (SGL Ask):

The October evening was damp and chilly. Streetlamps glowed pale yellow against the night. The heavy rain that had drenched the nation’s capital from sunrise to sunset had finally eased into a light mist. The few leaves left on the trees lining Rhode Island Avenue at Logan Circle were bent and downward facing with the weight of moisture.

A figure slid from the vehicle double parked in the street, a large bag filled with purchases clutched in one hand. They didn’t turn around to watch the vehicle drive away; they were too busy searching for keys. With an audible gasp of relief, fingers pulled out a keyring and the person entered the building.

In the lobby of the apartment complex, the person headed directly up the stairs to Unit #2. The hall was quiet, the lighting dim. More keys were inserted into locks, and the person was inside. They leaned against the closed front door, exhaling a sigh as they inhaled patchouli and the faint smell of cigarette smoke. Their eyes traveled quickly over the darkened rooms.

Unopened wine bottles on the kitchen counter, remote control tossed carelessly on the sofa, a pile of laundry tossed atop the stacked washer/dryer.

Still clutching the bag, the person traveled the short hallway that led to the bedroom. Flipping a switch filled the somewhat spacious area with bright light. Tossing the bag on the bed, the person went to the chest of drawers placed in the exact center between two of the room’s four windows. A quick glance at their watch informed them they had 15 minutes before their ride returned.

Pulling the top drawer open, the person’s eyes widened in a hybrid of horror, disbelief, and humor.

What the actual fuck?

Dress Up (SGL x Riley B Kinktober ask)

“You know I wouldn’t do anything you’re not ready for,” he assured her. “But I think we’re both ready for something. Let’s call it a tension breaker.”

“Tension breaker?” Riley arched a brow as her arms circled his neck.

“It has to be done,” Liam affirmed as his lips pulled hers into a deep kiss.

When they parted a full minute later, Liam whispered in her ear. “I want to touch your body, Riley B.”

Riley looked at him with eyes dark with desire and clouded with wariness. “No sex!”

“I know,” Liam nodded.

“You think I’m silly. And I probably am, but …”

Liam shook his head. “No. You’ve been hurt. I’m fine with going slowly. I just need you to remember I’m not those other guys. I’m not gonna dump you in Target or pop in for 15 minutes of your time every six months like Bootycall Keith.”

Riley kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you. I just … I wanna get it right this time.”

“Me too.” His fingers raked through her hair.

“And it’s Keith the Bootycall. Like Chance the Rapper.”

Liam rolled his eyes as he shrugged out of his shirt; he didn’t see why he had to get that scrub’s name right.

Sunday Bruch, Chapter 10

Olivia ate a hearty forkful of her roasted quail and root vegetable casserole. “Hamid wanted to join us, but I thought it best that this luncheon be girls only.”

Riley looked at her confused. “Why? I’d love to meet the man who took you away from Court.”

Olivia set her fork down; she leaned across the table so she and Riley were practically nose to nose. “First, no one took me away from Court. I am still very much a member; I just choose not to socialize with you heathens. Second, you’re pregnant with no idea who the father is. You don’t want this to become an international scandal! You do realize Hamid has his own kingdom to oversee? And he can be a Chatty Cathy with an especially … juicy tidbit.”

Riley nodded as Olivia pulled away. A pale hand swept across her crimson locks before the Duchess of Lythikos brought a wine glass to her lips.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Riley shrugged as she scooped venison, rice, and gravy. “Honestly, I don’t know. I want to stay with Maxwell. Thinking all the men have brown hair; all of us except Maxwell have brown eyes. Maybe Max is the dad by default?”

Olivia blinked. This woman cannot be this fucking stupid! She lightly cleared her throat.

“How were you ever Queen?” Olivia huffed. “You do know none of these men look alike, right? As much as I love a good drama, the smart thing … the responsible thing to do is to have a DNA test done. Then sit down and have a talk with Maxwell and the child’s father.”

“NO!” Riley exclaimed, bits of food flying from her mouth. “I can’t do that! That’s just … out of the question!”

“You should have thought of that before having a threesome with Drake Walker and Rashad Domvallier.”

“It was just something to do,” Riley muttered.

“Now it’s become someone to raise.” Olivia sliced into a savory yam. “THIS is why I no longer come around. You people are a circle jerk of messy sex and share relationships. I have found keeping your circle small helps keep your hole tight.”

Untitled Laxwell:

In the kitchen, he found his lover sitting in the dark at the  dining table. The flipping of the light switch revealed a decanter of scotch sat beside him, and a glass of the liquor was in front of him. His blue eyes lifted long enough to take in his boyfriend’s slightly disheveled countenance.

“Rain wake you up?’ he asked as he took a swallow of his drink.

Liam shook his head, frowning slightly. Maxwell wasn’t a drinker; he wanted to be, but the most the younger Beaumont could handle was a glass of wine. Two, at most. Anything more or something stronger went to his head immediately. And Maxwell tended to be a belligerent drunk, his ire fueled by jealousy.

Liam sat down cautiously across from his boyfriend.

“What are you doing up? And drinking?”

Maxwell shrugged while tugging at his wrinkled tee shirt. “Thinking.”

“About what?”

Maxwell said nothing as he picked up his glass to drink more scotch.

“How many glasses have you had?” Liam asked suspiciously.

“This is my second.”

“So, what are you thinking about that has you up in the middle of the night, drinking scotch?”

Liam settled back in his chair, outstretching his arm so his hand covered Maxwell’s .A slight smile quickly flickered across the young Lord’s lips. When he raised his face to look at Liam, his expression was blank but his eyes sad.

“My mother.” It was simply said, but Liam knew the pain that lay behind the two words.

Untitled JGL one-shot:

One night, soon after Liam Rys started, I found myself staying late to help out the accounting team. Quarterly reports were coming up which meant every broker needed their monthly numbers. Of course, a good broker keeps their own numbers, but with Barthelemy as Managing Director, there are no good brokers.

Just a bunch of good old boy club members who like to smoke cigars, drink liquor, and grope tits.

And then there are the rest of us.

I run the numbers for my team and go to drop Liam’s reports off at his desk; when I reach his cubicle, I stop short. It’s after 8 pm, and he is hunched over his desk. His cheeks are flushed, he’s  gnawed his lower lip raw, and wears a scowl of vexation on his face.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask as I lay the reports in his inbox.

His dark eyes glance up at me before falling back down to the computer screen. “I have to put together a portfolio for a new client by tomorrow morning. Came straight from the Managing Director.”

“And it has you looking like that?”

“He has very specific stocks he wants to invest in, but none of them are going to give the client the yield the MD insists upon.”

I roll my eyes and hold out my hand to see the mock portfolio. With a sigh, Liam passes it to me before leaning back in his chair. He rubs his eyes, and glances at the clock. He pulls open a desk drawer and grabs an apple.

I look around for a place to sit in the small cubicle, but there isn’t any. Liam’s bicycle takes up all the available space. Instead, I kick off my heels and rest against the cloth-covered partition as I quickly review the documents.

“They’re playing you,” I state flatly as I pass the papers back.

Liam looks at me,  confusion and an underlying hardness in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“What they’re asking of you is impossible. All the stocks are duds, poor performers. They set you up to fail. Or go crazy, whichever one comes first.”

 Not tagging folks; if you see it and want to play, feel free to do so!

[cno-inbminor]

adsentio - bonus letters

a/n: written in the royalty!au. i would recommend reading adsentio for context, but it’s not absolutely necessary. as suggested, this is just a little add-on/bonus snippet that popped into my head. 

summary: prince akaashi suddenly begins writing letters to you on the months you’re not there. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t beginning to look forward to them.

royalty!au: adsentio (pt. 1) | bonus letters (pt 1.5) | the masque (pt. 2)

-

Dear Princess (Y/n),

My mother plans to arrange a ball in your honor when you turn 18 next summer. It appears that she and your mother already started making arrangements a few months ago while you were still here. They plan on inviting other nearby kingdoms – I believe many other dukes and princes will plan to attend. Your coming-of-age is worthy of celebration, but I thought I could help relieve some of the pressure by periodically filling you in on the plans. In fact, I believe they’d like to make it a masquerade ball. Is that something you would enjoy?

I hope this letter has been safely given to you. There is no rush for a response, but if I must be honest, I look forward to receiving your letter soon. Again, there is no rush. I hope you are in good health.

Sincerely,

Prince Akaashi

-

Your Highness,

It is very kind of you to go through the trouble of sending correspondence of your mother’s plans. However, wouldn’t you think that I would know of these arrangements? After all, it is held in my honor. Forgive my forwardness, but were you looking for an excuse to write me a letter? Do you enjoy my presence at the castle more than I’m led to believe?

While I do believe the ball is too much for something as simple as turning 18, I appreciate the sentiment. I actually brought up the idea of a masquerade to your mother when I was there – it’s nice to hear that it’s still in consideration. Wouldn’t you agree that the air of mystery would be much more enjoyable?

Many princesses and ladies will be there as well. Why only mention the other dukes and princes? I have a possible idea, but perhaps I’ll keep it to myself. It seems more enjoyable that way. As of now, I am in good health. We are beginning to prepare for the frost, as well as ensuring that our citizens have the food and shelter to overcome it. The harvest was good to us this fall, and I only hope that spring comes quickly. I must admit that I was pleasantly surprised to receive a letter from you, and I was quite eager to write back.

I look forward to hearing back from you as well.

Princess (Y/n)

-

Dear Princess (Y/n),

If I may be bold, wouldn’t you believe it appropriate to address me by my given name? Even in written correspondence, you find the need to be formal. As I recall, you’ve addressed me by my name in person, so why not in letters? But should you find that uncomfortable, I will understand. There is no pressure.

I’m genuinely happy to hear that you’re still well. We are preparing for the frost as well. Should your kingdom ever need aid, do not hesitate to send for us. I will see to it that I personally help deliver any resources that you may need. Merger or not, our kingdoms are good allies, and should do as good allies do.

I suppose a masquerade would be more entertaining. It’d be interesting to see what everyone’s masks will look like, though I’d be less likely to speak to anyone. It wouldn’t be hard to find Bokuto in the crowd with that hair of his, but I suppose it’d be a little more tricky to find you. Not that my purpose of the ball would be to find you, but I’d at least want to bid you a happy birthday. That’s all.

As you know, I find no need to beat around the bush. I did, somehow, desire to write to you. You stayed a month longer than you usually do this past summer – I suppose I had grown accustomed to your presence, though I wonder why I never wrote you before. I hope you can forgive my forwardness as well.

I didn’t forget of the other possible attendees of the ball. As you had said before, there are some men in line for your hand. I assume that they would take this chance to impress you and your parents. After all, your kingdom is powerful and strong – most would benefit from a merger with you. Politically, our forces combined would be best. However, if I may be selfish, I believe you would make a good companion. If I see the other men making advances, perhaps I should prepare to win you over. But the choice would ultimately be in your hands, and I don’t intend to take that away in any sense.

I am eager to receive your response.

Sincerely,

Keiji

-

Prince Akaashi,

Old habits are so hard to change. I will do my best to correct myself and address you less formally. Many would frown upon this, however. We are not officially engaged yet – I believe some of the more traditional, older handmaidens would find this to be scandalous. They would assume we were off doing something sacrilegious in the hidden corridors, or something that would warrant me addressing you by your given name. I must say I am moved by your want for me to address you as you desire, even flustered. I imagine there are many other ladies who long for this same chance – perhaps I am special to you?

Along those lines, I do not think you give yourself enough credit where credit is due. I have no doubt that you will be able to find me the night of the masquerade – in fact, I believe you will have very little difficulty in doing so. However, perhaps to make this more fun for us, I might make it harder on you. Let us see if you are able to find me before the clock strikes midnight. You are incapable of fooling me – you know as well as I do that you have more than enough time to bid me a happy birthday before the ball.

I admit that I miss being on your castle grounds. It is a place that I have called a second home for many years now, and staying the extra month only made my leave harder. I am happy that you desired to write me. I now look forward to your letters more than others’ correspondences. One trait that I have always admired about you is your honesty – you don’t care to mince your words (unless it would be more appropriate to do so). I must say that I’m quite tired of polite, bureaucratic talk, especially at it should hold no place in a friendship like ours.

I hadn’t thought to give much time to any suitors who would try to sway me in their favor, but I am curious to hear of your argument now. You should be prepared to make a good stance, though I must say that you have earned yourself some extra credit from me – you haven’t failed to forget how important the value of choice is to me. Many other men will fail to remember or even acknowledge this.

If I may be selfish, I hope that the summer months arrive quickly. I look forward to my annual trip to your kingdom.

Sincerely,

Princess (Y/n)

-

Dear (y/n),

The answer is simple. Yes, you are special to me. You are one of my oldest friends, and there are very few people that hold the same honor. Though I’d like to be bold, a bravery that I can only display through paper and ink, and say that you are more special than just an old friend. We have known each other for many years, and I am very sure that you know the meaning in my words. Should you not, I would be willing to explain it in person.

Must you make it more difficult for me to find you? If so, for your entertainment, I will indulge you. However, I am not one to back down from challenges. This will only fuel me in my search, and I will spend the remaining time until then to recall on everything that defines you. Even in sleep, I will study, as you do appear in my dreams from time to time. I do believe it would only be fair to receive a reward if I find you by midnight.

I, too, also anxiously await your letters. Though I know the delivery man is doing his best, I can’t help but wish for a way for letters to travel faster. The days spent waiting for your responses seem longer and less bearable. It’s akin to the feeling when you visit the gardens every day and feel that the flowers are delayed in their bloom. On days when your letters arrive, they seem to have opened substantially. They seem fuller, brighter, and stronger, and I often have to restrain myself from retrieving one for you (since you are no longer here).

You are free to be selfish with me. I, too, wish for the summer months. In return, I hope you accept this bracelet as a Christmas gift. I found it from a jewelry stand when I was strolling through the city and thought it would fit you. You are not one to care for the number of jewels or the material it is made of – I only pray that you will accept it, and I fully intend to compensate for all the previous Christmas holidays where I did not gift you something. It is regrettable, and I can only hope that you accept my apologies now.

Sincerely yours,

Keiji

[maybe-your-left]

A Case In Need: Control Freak

Here is a link to my Masterlist that has all the chapters and my WIP! 

TW/CW: NSFW, allusions to violence, drinking, and some breath play! Ren’s a nasty boy and FUCK is it good. 

Also super sorry about it being a while since I updated, I just started some new anti depressants and they threw me for a loop but I'm back on track now and feeling better than ever.

  It had been two weeks since Ren had bought you your ‘gifts’. 

Scratch that. 

Two weeks since a giant monster of a man had removed you from your home, took away your valuables, hid your favorite blanket somewhere, he wouldn’t say where, and gave you a full swat team of bodyguards whenever you were out of his sight. Two full fucking weeks since he started keeping tabs on where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with. 

It was exhausting being his ‘lover’. If you could still be classified as that, it was starting to feel like a hostage situation, whenever the two of you weren’t in the office together he would send you texts or phone calls that you were required to answer. He had even gotten a spare cell phone to call you from so it was separate from his personal calls, and you presumed to keep Rey oblivious. Which oddly enough had been working, she had really no idea what was going on. She would visit him at work throughout the day and give him a small kiss on the cheek and always insisted on hugging you before leaving. At some point, she must’ve hounded him for your phone number because now here you were meeting her for lunch hours after Ren left your, ‘our’ as he liked to call it, apartment. 

Before he left he had laid out an outfit for you to wear along with an outline of talking points you were ‘allowed’ to bring up with her during the lunch. You had rolled your eyes at him and ensured that you weren’t going to reveal anything to her, you didn’t really want your relationship with Ren to end. You just were getting tired of the short leash he kept you on. After getting dressed, and inspected by Ren, he had pulled you into a long slow kiss and whispered in your ear, “I’ll miss you Angel,” and then he was gone. 

Huffing you messed with your hair a little more and straightened out the dress he had chosen for you. Even though he was being a psychopath for control you were surprised to see that he was being generous in the gifts he bought you. The day after moving Ren had taken you to a couture mall in Manhattan and lavished you with thousands of dollars worth of clothes, jewelry, and home goods. He had insisted on keeping the house in a monotone color scheme but he did budge on your wardrobe, he knew that you liked having some pops of color and truth be told you noticed that he enjoyed, a little too much, the baby pink sets you chose at the lingerie stores. He had even gone so far to get you a custom made necklace* that was engraved with his initials, with a ruby inlay, that he wanted you to wear all the time. 

Grabbing your purse and slipping on your black strappy heels you heard your phone go off. You searched your purse for the damned contraption, even though it was a small bag it was almost like a Mary Poppins never-ending abyss when you threw things in it. Jingling out your keys you locked the front door and made it down the steps and finally snatched out the phone. 

Vicrul and Ushar will be escorting you today. Don’t be difficult with them or you’ll be in trouble. 

Ugh, he was never going to let you live that down. You stood outside and waited for their black SUV to pull up while you contemplated messaging him back. You didn’t really feel the need to be escorted to lunch with Rey, wouldn’t she think it’s weird that her husband’s men were driving you? Did she get escorted like that with the other beastie boys? It’s not like you weren’t fond of them, truth be told you liked the guys, they were always posted outside your house when Ren was gone. Usually, it was Ushar who took care of you unless it was a super public gathering then one of the other men would join in. But it had been a while since Vircul had watched you, the last time Ren had let them take you to a spa to get your nails and hair done and you had been in a bratty mood. One thing had led to another and it ended with you screaming that you were being ‘attacked’ because the men would not fucking stop hovering. The spa did not think it was funny however and Ren had to bribe the police officers who were 100% ready to arrest Vicrul because he was pinning you to the salon chair. 

The black SUV slinked up to the sidewalk and out of the passenger side came Ushar. “Hello Miss (Y/N),” he opened the back door for you, “Confirming that you are headed to lunch with Lady Ren?”. 

“Yes Ushar,” you rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses, “He already said I could go.” The men always did this with you, whenever he was gone they would double, even triple-check that you knew where you were going and any special instructions Ren had laid out for you. It was almost like you were a child stuck in the middle of a custody battle, each side was trying to make sure you knew all the rules and what you were allowed to say or do, it was getting really old. 

“Hi Vic,” you cooed trying to get a rise out of him, “It’s been a while hasn’t it?” 

Vicrul let out a low chuckle, “Not long enough Angel, not long enough.” 

You hummed back at him and settled in so they could whisk you away to probably the worst lunch of your life. You decided to play nice and shoot Ren a text to let him know you were with the guys, but you also wanted to push his buttons. 

Don’t worry Daddy. I’ll play nice.

The drive took a little over fifteen minutes, Vicrul parked up front and Ushar quickly opened your door and held his elbow out for you to take. You grabbed it, thankful for the support since you weren’t sure what to expect. The two of you began into the large building, with Vic jogging up close behind. Climbing into the elevator you noticed the other patrons were scooting away from you. Being as you were a small woman being flanked by two men who looked like they wrestled bears for a living, it was a natural response. Most people had hopped off before you hit the rooftop for your ‘date’. 

Stepping out you scanned the area and immediately noticed another hulking group of men in pitch black suits. Ahh, so the others are here too, of course, Rey would have her own guards. You let the guys lead the way and soon you were a group of six men hovering by the hostess stand. Looking around you couldn’t find Rey, she wasn’t any smaller than you, she hadn't gotten far especially with four guys flanking her…

“Ugh there you are!” she squealed before pulling you into a tight hug, effectively pinning your arms to your sides. “I thought you got lost, Kylo told me he sent the Knights to come get you but I was so afraid you stood me up!” 

“The Knights,” you whispered, still in her boney clutches. 

“Yes, the Knights,” she released you and grabbed your hands in hers, “They are the bodyguards we use!”

Oh. The Knights. That’s what Ren called them, well it made sense, they were fucking huge and seemed like they did anything for their ‘master’. 

“Are you ready to eat? I got us a lovely table out on the balcony,” Rey smiled at you. 

“Oh yes, of course,” you tried to match her enthusiasm, “Let’s go.” 

----- 

After the two of you were seated the Knights had flanked you both on your sides, leaving about a 6-foot circle for the waiter and other servers to talk to you. 

“So (Y/N),” Rey grinned at you, “How are you liking work? Kylo says you’re doing an excellent job.” 

You blushed, “Oh thank you, he’s never mentioned that.” 

“Oh, that’s just because he’s bad at giving affection, we’ve been married for almost 10 years and he still rarely says ‘I love you”,” she giggled and started drinking her cosmo. What an awkward turn this lunch had gone, and right at the fucking beginning. It didn’t shock you that Ren was weird with affection and compliments in front of people but you assumed that after ten years he would at least show something toward Rey. Your heart sank, what if he never returned feelings to you? You had been seeing each other for almost a month, and even though you knew it was wrong, you had started feeling ‘feelings’ for him. The PDA was okay, you weren’t a huge fan of it, but even at the mall he had held your hand and kissed your forehead when you found something he liked. It was strange and new for you, and being told that he wasn’t like that with his wife made you ill. 

“Let’s talk about something else,” you spit out, “Sorry, it’s just I’m at work all week so maybe we talk about something different?” 

“Oh of course,” she took another swig of her drink, “I can’t tell you the last time I hung out with a girlfriend.” another drink, “Probably since before I got married!” 

“What?” 

“It’s true,” she sighed. 

“What do you do all day then?” 

“This and that,” she motioned for the waiter to get her another, “Usually I go and play tennis at the country clubs, join in at the book club I’m a part of, you know domestic things.” She looked almost sad, you wondered if Ren was the reason she had nothing to do, or maybe she was just that boring. 

“Well,” you tried to soothe her, “What do you like to do?” 

She inhaled deeply and looked out at the skyline, “I really enjoyed being in school. Learning, reading, doing something. But I don’t anymore, women in my situation aren’t expected to have those kinds of hobbies.” 

“Situation?” 

“You know,” she looked back at you and dabbed her lash line, “Being married to a powerful man, I’m expected to hold a certain standard.” She sniffled and you resisted the urge to reach across the table until one single rule from the outline stood out in your mind, ‘Under no circumstance are you to soothe her, she is dramatic at times and I don’t need you falling into a trap’. 

A server thankfully interrupted your pity party, leaving your dishes and a quick message about ‘if you need anything else just call’. Rey had seemed to reign herself back in and turned back to you with her trademark smile. 

“What about you?” 

“Oh um,” you paused to bite into your salad, “I don’t really do much. I usually go out to bars and stuff on weekends. Or my friends and I have wine and cheese nights!” You smiled at her, it had been about two weeks since your last meeting. Finn and Rose were super confused when you told them you moved but you convinced them that with your new salary you could afford some new things. You actually were supposed to meet them in a couple of days at your new apartment for drinking. 

“Ugh that sounds so fun,” Rey almost screamed, maybe she was drinking too much. You weren’t sure what her tolerance was but you were sure that Ren probably monitored her drinking. “I used to do that in college with one of my friends.” 

“Oh? Where did you go to college?” 

“The same one as you!” she squealed, “Sorry, I saw on your resume where you went to school. I’m pretty sure we were in the same class.” 

“Oh no shit,” you giggled back at her, you tried to remember if you knew her. The only people you hung around were Finn and Rose, sometimes Poe who had moved across the country after graduating. He was the ambitious one out of the group, he had joined the Air Force before school and became a pilot. 

Rey started giggling uncontrollably, you could feel the Knights start to shift towards her. Especially Vicrul who seemed to be keeping a very sharp eye on her. “Yeah, we both used to hang out with Rose,” she said over her glass. 

You froze. Rose? Your Rose? How did she know her? You were sure Rose didn’t know Rey, and if she had wouldn’t you have known Rey too. Now all the Knights were closing in on you two, you could feel the mood shifting to a topic Ren probably didn’t want you to have. “How… How do you know Rose?” 

“Oh, it was way back when,” she flung her hand out to somehow calm you, “back when I was hooking up with this guy Finn.” 

“I think that’s enough Lady Ren,” Vicrul grunted while reaching for her drink. 

“Hey,” she shouted, “I’m a grown woman Vic. I can drink whatever I want!” She was starting to cause a scene, you turned and noticed other patrons looking your way. And what a sight it was, little Rey holding a half drank cosmo as high as she could away from the Knights. 

Vicrul got closer to her and almost growled, “Don’t make me call him.” 

Rey narrowed her eyes, “Do it, pussy.” 

And then all hell broke loose, Rey had launched from the table, effectively throwing her drink on Vicrul. In her haste she had also thrown the food all over you, your pretty new dress now soiled by the salmon salad you ordered. Ushar had rushed to your side and grabbed you by the shoulders and was attempting to pull you from the scene. But you couldn’t just sit and watch, Rey was sobbing and screaming at Vircul to let go of her, even going as far to bite his arm that corralled her to his chest. You couldn’t help but cry too, this poor woman, she was truly a prisoner. She had so many friends at some point, maybe even was your friend, and then she was thrown into a world she didn’t seem to enjoy with a husband who only cared about her appearance. 

Suddenly everything stopped, the Knights were silent and lined up by the table, aside from Ushar and Vicrul. You swallowed your tears and you heard footsteps. Slow and methodical steps coming towards you. Waves of dread began to fill your stomach while the aura of danger was licking between your legs. You cowered into Ushar’s chest, you didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to be at the end of his wrath. 

“How strange it is,” he boomed from your left side, “that here, in our favorite restaurant, you decide to make a scene.” He stalked towards Rey, slow steps, each one growing louder than the last. He had his hands clasped behind his back and although you couldn’t see his face you knew that it was tense. You could practically hear his jaw popping in and out of place. He cracked his knuckles before bringing his hands up to his neck. “I expected more from you,” he spat out and began to crack his neck. Each pop was like a nail in Rey’s coffin, you couldn’t help the little whimper that rose from your throat which caught his attention. 

Ren whipped around and was in front of you instantly. His fists clenched at his sides and his breathing shallow. He was waiting for you to meet his gaze, almost taunting you to stare back. You gulped and squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want him to blame you, if he would just calm down you could explain what she had said, no one had told you that she got so emotional when she had cocktails. It wasn’t in the outline briefing he had given you this morning. So really it was his fault. 

“Take her away,” he snarled at Ushar, who suddenly picked you up and rushed you out of the restaurant. Peeking over his shoulder you witnessed Ren closing in on Rey. When the elevator doors shut you hoped that the pained screaming you heard wasn’t what you thought they were. 

The drive back was silent. Neither you nor Ushar said a word. You barely remembered to breathe, you were petrified. How could lunch have gone so wrong so fast? You just wanted to get to know her, get an understanding of who she was. You didn’t think she was going to launch into a speech about how much she hated her life. And what was the whole Finn and Rose thing about? Not once had they mentioned that they knew her, other than when Finn told you about the Ren incident. But you didn’t think that meant Rey and Finn hooked up in college. It was all too familiar and uncomfortable, you needed answers and unfortunately, there was only one person who could give them to you. 

-----

You waited. Paced, bit your nails in anticipation for him to come to you. He hadn’t told you this morning when he would be back, but he always would come around in the evening to drop off food and watch a movie with you. Or give you feedback on something at work, or fuck you on any surface he could find. But he never stayed too long, which should be normal, he did have a wife who would probably be suspicious if he was gone overnight. 

After about 5 hours you had decided that he wasn’t coming. So you stripped down and started a bath, throwing in a black glitter bath bomb that was supposed to help soothe the body and soul. After it was just the right temperature you grabbed a glass of wine and turned on some Netflix to drown out your wandering brain. Sinking in you enjoyed the stillness, you didn’t get this luxury at your old apartment and now you were being spoiled rotten with all these new features. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you could live somewhere like this, or wear the clothes that you had hanging in the closet. You hummed to yourself and started drinking and began to be lulled to sleep by the sounds of Fraiser coming from your laptop. 

You were pulled from your sleep to the sound of a door slamming shut. Followed by grunting which you assumed was someone taking off their shoes, and another series of slamming noises. Guess someone decided to pay you a visit, you groaned and drank some more of your wine, preparing for his royal asshole to grace you with his presence. 

You heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, your master bedroom doors swinging open and closed until the man, the myth, the legend, was now standing in your bathroom. Fully clothed aside from his shoes being gone. “Well hi,” you said to him. 

He grunted at you and made his way into ‘his closet’, which was filled with clothes of his own that he bought on your shopping trip. He reemerged completely naked with a black robe draped over his forearm. 

“Why is the water black,” he grumbled before swinging a leg across from you.

“What do you think you’re doing Ren?” 

“Don’t be difficult Angel. I’ve had a long fucking day,” he snapped at you, “Now is this water going to stain me, or am I good to get in?” he stared at you. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched like he was getting ready to attack his prey. You tried to keep your face neutral, not letting him know that you were still slightly scared of him after the display this afternoon. You slowly scrunched your legs to your chest as a nonverbal way of telling him he could join in. Once you moved he brought both legs in and sank into the tub. 

You both were very lucky that this was a large bath since Ren’s legs took up about 75% of the space in it, leaving you to stretch out on top of him. Your feet placed on his abs while he sunk lower and lower until his head was resting on the lip of the tub. 

“What’s in your glass,” he practically moaned at you with his eyes shut. He looked super uncomfortable but you could tell he was trying really hard to relax. Which seemed to never be his natural state. 

“It’s a Cab*, the one with the lion on it.” 

Ren snatched it out of your hand without even looking and chugged the rest of it. “We’re going to need more of that,” he rolled slightly to his right and pressed an intercom button. 

“Whoever the fuck is downstairs will you bring up the Juggernaut bottle,” he barked into the speaker. Assuming that one of the Knights was going to follow his order. Within minutes one of them came in and gave Ren the bottle which he immediately started chugging from. 

“Ren,” you reached out and pulled the bottle from him, “Are you going to tell me what the fuck happened earlier? Or are we just going to drink?” 

“Can we not do both?” 

You exhaled loudly, trying to get your point across that you needed to talk to him. He groaned and started rubbing his face. “I don’t know what you’re expecting from me. She is my wife and what we do in our personal lives is none of your business.” 

“Are you serious,” you snapped at him, “Ren I am fucking you. You’ve been calling the shots of my life for almost a month, you bought me an apartment, car and new clothes and made me go to lunch with her and now it’s none of my business?” 

He crossed his arms and looked away from you, trying to focus on your laptop even though it was paused from watching too many episodes. 

“Kylo,” you barked, “I’m fucking talking to you.” 

“Don’t you dare call me that,” he yelled, raising a finger at you. 

Bringing the bottle to your lips you waited for him to continue. Interesting that he allows Rey to call him that but not you, this was something you were going to have to explore. 

“Is it because you’re ashamed, Ren,” you cooed at him, “Ashamed that I saw how out of control she is. Or that I know you beat her.” 

Suddenly he was on top of you, his hands around your throat. Teeth snapping in your face like a wild dog. “Don’t you ever accuse me of that,” he seethed and released you enough so you could breathe again, “I’ve never laid a finger on her in my life. You don’t know anything about me little girl.” 

You had dropped the bottle in the tub, the red liquid pouring out and mixing into the black water. Almost like there had been blood spilled between the two of you. You grasped onto his forearms to try and anchor him off of you but were getting nowhere. “That’s hard to believe,” you gasped, “When you’re currently choking me to death.” 

“Oh Angel,” his face softened to a less dangerous one but more one of mischief, “That’s because I know you like it when I’m rough with you.” You inhaled sharply, and Ren pushed you up further against the tub. Effectively pinning you in place while his knees knocked yours to accommodate him. 

“Like right now,” he came closer to you, “I know that your pretty little cunt is sopping because of me. It’s okay to be afraid, I won’t hurt you.” One of his hands dropped into the water, “That much.” 

Suddenly he had you flipped around, on your knees with your chest and face pressed up against the end of the tub. Water sloshing between you two while he pressed his hips into yours. Revealing a once well-hidden erection that was now skimming your folds. He brought one hand down between your legs, lightly petting at you. Humming when he felt your arousal mixed with the water. You moaned and tried to press your hips back into him, desperate for friction. “No, no Angel, you’ve been a bad girl.” 

You froze and felt him line himself up at your entrance, usually he worked you open so it wouldn’t be so painful when he pushed into you, but it was clear that right now Ren wanted you to feel the pain. His other hand came up and gripped to your hair, successfully knotting it in his fist. 

“Tell me, Sweetheart, do you know how long you can hold your breath?” 

You craned your neck to try and look at him, you were obviously confused. 

“Let’s find out.” 

Ren pushed into you and suddenly you were dunked underwater. You thrashed and screamed under the black mess while he started pumping into you. Each thrust was harder than the last, he was determined to make you know how much he could hurt you. You tried to push yourself back up to the surface but he had you pinned, after what felt like hours he pulled you back up and you choked on the water. 

Gasping and gagging you started sobbing while Ren was laughing like the Joker. “I think we can do better than that,” and he had you under the water again, his pace far more crucial, he was chasing a high that he didn’t know he had. The amount of power he held over you now was unbearable. This man, who you had grown to like more and more, was now holding you hostage under the water and the sick part was that you didn’t want him to stop. 

He pulled you back up and pinned your face to the side and thrust in more and more, grunting and groaning at the clenching of your walls around his cock. The hand holding your hip hostage slid down and started rubbing tight circles around your clit causing you to moan. “That feels good doesn’t it Angel, I can feel you, you love it when I fuck you like this.” 

Gagging again you responded, “I do I love it, Ren, please don’t fucking stop.” 

“You want to cum don’t you,” he leaned to your ear and continued his brutal pace, “Cum all over my cock? Even though I almost drowned you?” 

You screamed as his circle grew faster and faster over your nub, you couldn’t help clenching around him. You felt so close to your orgasm, you just needed a little bit more. 

“Tell me you like it, Angel,” he huffed before stopping to take a bite out of your shoulder, “You like it when I control you. You need it don’t you dirty slut, someone to keep you in check.” 

“Yes Ren I love it, please please let me cum,” you begged him. 

“After you cum you’re going to thank me for everything I’ve done for you, do you understand whore? I own you. I own your mouth, your tight little cunt, even your thoughts.” 

You were bucking back into his thrusts, desperately chasing your release, “All yours Ren, please I need it.” 

He stilled his movements and turned your head to try and face him, “Take a deep breath and cum Angel.” 

And you did just that as he dunked you back under the water, pinning you flat against the bottom while his fingers rubbed your clit in sync with his cock. You were clenching and desperately trying to hold your breath until you felt him empty inside you. Hot sticky cum painted your insides as his grip on your loosened, you took the chance to lift out of the water and gasp for air while Ren slumped against you. His chest flush with your back while his cock was still squirting into your tired pussy. 

His arms came around you and pulled you up with him so now you were on top of him while he buried his face into your neck. Lazy and sloppy kisses were placed all over the crook of your neck up towards your jaw, his hands were slowly petting your breasts in a way to calm your breathing. Finally, he took in a deep breath and stood with you clutched to his chest. 

Treating you like you would porcelain he stepped out of the tub and turned to the shower, quickly rinsing the two of you off before leaning you against the wall. You couldn’t even move, your body went into fight or flight every time he shoved you under the water. You were so sure he was going to kill you, but each time he was sure to pull you back up and prepare you for the next blow. It was almost considerate, given the circumstances, that he even let you cum with him. You stared at the man who was washing both of your bodies of the glitter, wine, and cum. He looked so focused on piecing you back together even though he had been the one to break you in the first place. 

He shut the water off and stepped out, quickly drying himself off and getting in his robe before reaching his hand out for yours. 

“Come on Angel, you’re shivering,” he whispered to you, afraid to command you after what had happened. You grabbed his hand and walked out of the shower where he again dried you off and wrapped you in your black robe too. Once you were bundled he picked you up and you wrapped your arms and legs around him, desperate for him to stay with you. 

He brought you to the bedroom, pulling down the sheets with his right hand while still cradling you with his other. Bending over to place you down you squeezed him harder, “Please don’t go,” you whispered in his ear. 

“I’m not going anywhere (Y/N), not anymore.” 

You released him and watched him go back to the bathroom and shut off the lights before coming back and climbing into bed fully naked. Ren came up behind you and started to pull off your robe, kissing your bare skin when it came into contact with the room's cold air. 

“I promise (Y/N), never again” he cooed before pulling you into his embrace and the two of you were lulled to sleep. 

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @morby​ @kirah36​ @onlykyloscenes​ @clumsycopy​ @candycanes19​ @desiraypark​ @direnightshade

*Here is our necklace from Tiffany: https://www.tiffany.com/jewelry/necklaces-pendants/elsa-peretti-color-by-the-yard-pendant-62464399/

**Here is the wine we are having, it’s my sister’s favorite red wine and it's honestly not that bad: https://www.wine.com/product/juggernaut-hillside-cabernet-sauvignon-2017/532155?state=CA&s=GoogleBase_CSE_532155_type_Wine_RedWine_CabernetSauvignon_261&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=&utm_campaign=Google_Shopping_Smart_CA_Relaunch&showpromo=true&promo=PSCASE10&gclid=Cj0KCQjwpNr4BRDYARIsAADIx9wTNMJgAuhl1zWgoZEny8NAfa4vYZmIzTH446JIQfJ5NE9upZGPAGgaAk0eEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds#promoBarModal

[aiorevelations]

A Number, Not a Name: Chapter 13

We hope you all enjoy. We have a few more chapters coming tonight! ; - )

Present-day:

Scarlett stood in the ballroom of Dalmar’s house directing where the delivery men should hang some paintings Dalmar had ordered specially for the gala that evening.

“Where should we place this piece ma'am?” One of the delivery men asked as he held a portrait of Tigran Hakobyan, a famous Krudian general.

“Place the portrait on the right side of the fireplace.” She pointed in its direction.

“So is everything set for tonight.” She heard a male voice come from behind her.

Scarlett turned toward Dalmar. “Nearly done Dalmar. The works by Sargayan were just delivered.” 

“Excellent. I want everything to be perfect for tonight.”

“And it will be.” Scarlett stepped closer towards him. “I must say I have never felt such a great feeling of anticipation for anything before. To know that we are on the eve of a new Krudia, a different world. You can’t help but feel the excitement in the air.”

“I must confess that after all the time, energy, and resources I have put into this project, I find it hard to believe that I am so close to accomplishing my goal.”

“I’m just grateful to be by your side and to have played a small part in making your goal a reality. Your tuxedo is tailored, pressed, and ready for this evening. I laid it out on your bed.”

“Very good. I best get ready for the gala. See you later this evening.” Dalmar began walking to his bedroom.

“Of course.” As she saw Dalmar leave the room Scarlett smirked to herself. All the pieces of her plan were falling into place; it was just a matter of letting things naturally run their course. That was until it was time for her to interfere with that course. 

As Dalmar slipped on his shawl lapel tuxedo jacket he wasn’t even the slightest bit aware of the tiny voice-activated recorder carefully placed in the left pocket of his suit.

…..

Jason stood in front of the mirror in his hotel room, adjusting his bow tie. Once he was finished he picked up the diamond cufflinks he’d placed on a table by the dresser and attached them to the cuffs of his white dress shirt. He then slipped on his notch lapel tuxedo jacket and did up the front bottoms. He glanced down and up at his reflection, checking his entire outfit, and took a deep breath. Jason wasn’t one to be nervous but even he would admit that the thought of attending a Gala with a wanted criminal was jarring. He knew that the success of his and Tasha’s mission depended on the outcome of this evening. They needed to get the necessary information tonight, otherwise, most likely his first field mission would be a failure. After all the time he had waited to prove himself as an agent on the field, he was going to do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t happen. 

He heard a knock at his room door and walked over to open the door. He opened it and saw Tasha. Jason was taken aback by how gorgeous she looked. She was wearing a dark blue off-the-shoulder gown. The dress had a draped ruffle cascading down the left side. All over the gown was embellished and embroidered with sequins. Her shoes were dark blue suede pumps. Her hair was pulled back and twisted in a crown braid. She also wore a pair of diamond halo earrings and held a navy clutch. He always thought she was breathtakingly beautiful but her evening attire seemed to accentuate her stunning features even more. 

As Tasha looked at Jason standing in front of her she couldn’t help but think about how good he looked. He was wearing a black notch lapel tuxedo suit, emerald-cut white diamond octagon cufflinks, and black Oxford dress shoes. From the time they met she thought he was very handsome but now, standing there in his suit, she found him even more good-looking. Though of course, she’d never admit it. 

“Melinda, hey” 

“I thought I’d stop by, see if you were almost ready,” Tasha said as she entered the room.

“Funny, I was just about to go over to your place and make sure you were at least out of the shower” he teased.

“Well,” Tasha glanced down at her outfit “I’m not wearing a bathrobe” she playfully replied.

“No, you definitely aren't,”  Jason smiled, causing Tasha to smile as well. 

“Speaking of the shower, let’s go in there.”

“The…shower?” he asked, an expression of confusion on his face.

“The bathroom actually, just for a moment.”

“Okay.” he responded, still confused by Tasha’s statement. Jason followed Tasha into the bathroom. After they entered she quickly turned on the shower.

“I thought you already had one of these.” Jason joked.

“We need to talk.” Tasha responded, a serious look in her eyes

“Oh and to talk you need the shower on?”

“Unless you want to be covered with bugs.”

“Bugs?” Jason repeated, still confused. After a second it dawned on him what Tasha meant. “Oh bugs, right. Too bad I forgot to pack my insect repellent.” 

Tasha kiddingly rolled her eyes and gave a slight smile. “As I was trying to say, I know technically you’ve been undercover already since we’ve met Dalmar and secured the deal. But tonight is going to be—“

“Hard. Difficult. Demanding.” Jason crossed his arms.

“Let’s just say not a walk in the park.” Jason nodded his head. Tasha continued, “in my experience at these events, where you have to remain undercover for a long period of time, new agents tend to slip up or lose focus. We already have a good deal of intel on Dalmar. From what we’ve seen, with his massive base of followers and speech about radical change, I suspect he’s planning on staging a coup.”

“Either that or win power first by legitimate means and then seize control of the entire country.”

“The how doesn’t matter, we just have to ensure that he doesn’t take over this country. And the only way to do that is to find out where the weapons are located. As of now the only way we have of learning this information is from Dalmar directly.”

“And who knows if we’ll see him again before Wednesday, when the weapons are supposed to be delivered.”

“Exactly, which makes tonight our only shot at getting the information we need, which means that you and I have to bring our ‘A’ game.”

“Understood.” 

“Good.” Tasha smiled and turned off the shower. She then remembered something. “Oh, sorry I almost forgot but would you give me a hand with this necklace? For some reason, I can’t get it to clasp.” She held the sapphire bar drop necklace out to him that she’d been holding for the past few minutes. 

“Sure.” He took the necklace from her and clasped it around her neck.

“Thanks.”

“It sure is a beautiful necklace,” Jason remarked.

“Thank you. It belonged to my grandmother.”

“Well, it looks wonderful on you. You look great by the way.”

“Thanks. Though I’ve worn this dress to a million other parties.” Tasha laughed. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Why thank you. I try my best.”  Jason gave a boyish grin.

“Just don’t let it go to your head.” 

“Okey-dokey.” They both smiled again. 

“We’d best get downstairs. The last thing we need is to be late.” Tasha began to head for the door.

“Right behind you.”

…..

The older man reached for the microphone that was placed in the car and spoke into it. "This is White Falcon. The targets have just left The Chardell.”

Red Sparrow’s voice echoed in response through the car speaker system. “Affirmative. Do not take action. Stay in your current position until further notice.”

“Understood.”

…..

As Tasha and Jason made their way to Dalmar’s house they each noted the drastic change in scenery. The vehicle traveled through the sprawling city, a large grassy plain dotted by small farms and villages, and up a windy road on Mt. Karanaj. Finally, the BMW pulled up in front of a mansion which was located about halfway up the mountain in the middle of a forest. The house was four stories tall with a basement as well. The house was in the style of a modern mountain home as parts of its walls were made of redwoods with the other large sections being made out of stone as well as cutouts and windows of glass. It also had sloped and flat rooflines, timber and steel details, and a massive porch and deck situated in the front of the house.

A doorman walked up to the car and opened the right passenger door. Tasha and Jason each said “Thank you” to the gentleman as they exited the BMW and headed for the entrance to the house. They entered through the arched doorway into the entryway and were greeted with a crowd of people gathered in the house, the women dressed in the finest designer dresses and jewelry and the men wearing their best tuxedos.

The inside of Dalmar’s home was even more elaborate than the outside. It had high vaulted ceilings, redwood beams that stretched from one end of the room to the other, ornate gold and onyx carvings in the walls, murals, and paintings from world-renown artists hung on the walls. The floors were made of the finest marble and numerous crystal chandeliers hung throughout the mansion. 

Almost as soon as they entered the home Tasha and Jason were greeted by Tarek.

“Melinda, Edward. Welcome.”

“Hello Tarek” Tasha responded.

“It’s good to see you again,” Jason added.

“Dalmar’s been anticipating your arrival. I’ll take you to him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jason replied. Tarek led Tasha and Jason through the crowd to a gold-plated bifurcated staircase. They walked up a couple of flights of stairs and arrived at the second floor of the house. Tarek led them down a hall past several rooms and into a grand ballroom. The ceiling was adorned with frescoes that depicted famous moments in history. The walls and ceilings were overlaid with gold trimmings and carvings. A marble stone fireplace was in the center of the room and three gold and Swarovski clear crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The three of them made their way over to Dalmar who was standing by the fireplace, holding a glass of champagne in his hand. Tarek withdrew himself and headed downstairs to greet more arriving guests.

“Mr. Delucas, Ms. Tylerson” Dalmar greeted them.

“Dalmar”  Jason acknowledged him.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again Dalmar,” Tasha added.

“Davit. You can call me Davit” he smiled.

“Only if you call Melinda.”

“For you my dear, that I can do.” He outstretched his arms “So what do you think of the place?” 

“It’s amazing…Davit. Certainly one of the most elaborate and beautiful homes I’ve ever seen.”

“A man that can do this well for himself…it shows even more that we partnered with the right guy.”

Dalmar smirked and took a sip of his champagne. “Who am I to argue with that?”

Jason sensed an opportunity and spoke. “Speaking of our partnership. Melinda and I have been giving our deal a great amount of thought and we feel since we’ve supplied you with firepower we are entitled to be given some more information.”

“Information?” Dalmar furrowed his brow.

“Yes,” Tasha responded. “You’ve kept your plans for this operation rather close to the vest. Overall strategy. Location or locations of your armaments. We’re not in the habit of partnering in operations we know close to nothing about.”

“Trust me, for the sake of our success I can’t divulge much. My secrecy has been the only way I’ve gotten this far. What I will say is that you will be handsomely compensated. Whatever money you want. Whatever position you want. It will be yours” Dalmar took another swig from his glass.

“What do you mean by position?” Tasha pressed for more details. “A high position in society? To be honest we had our eye on a little more than that.” 

Dalmar chuckled to himself. “I must say Melinda you are quite—”

“Determined? Resolute?”

“Very persistent.”

“It’s how I’ve survived in this business as long as I have.”

“That I can respect. Likewise, I think you and your associate can understand my hesitancy to disclose sensitive information.”

Before either Tasha or Jason could respond Adrian came up to Dalmar and whispered in his ear. Dalmar whispered something to Adrian in reply and then turned back toward Tasha and Jason.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment there is an urgent matter I must attend to.”

“Of course,” Tasha replied. Dalmar exited the ballroom with Adrian by his side, leaving Tasha and Jason alone. Tasha slightly shook her head and sighed. “I should have known a man like Dalmar would try as far as possible to keep things close to his vest.”

“At least you tried.”

“Thankfully, we have the rest of the evening. Though I have a feeling it’s going to be a very long one.”

“I’m going to go get some sparkling water to drink. Do you want any?” 

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“Okay, then. I’ll be right back.” Jason made his way out of the ballroom and down to the first floor of the house. He walked through several rooms trying to find the bar. He then heard a voice from behind him. “Lost?” He turned to see Scarlett.

“Is it that obvious?” Jason laughed.

“Don’t feel bad it happens all the time to first-time guests. It is a pretty big house.”

“I was just looking for the bar.”

“Walk to the entryway, pass the staircase and go all the way to the back of the house, turn left and you’ll find it next to the kitchen.”

“Thanks, Ms…”

“Scarlett is fine.”

“Thanks, Scarlett.”

“Of course.”

Jason then left, followed Scarlett’s directions, and arrived at the bar. As he waited in line to get his drink something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Through a window in the back of the room, he spotted two of Dalmar’s security guards, talking to each other in hushed tones. Jason walked closer to the window to get a better look, careful not to draw any attention to himself. He saw the two guards talk for a few more moments before they started heading towards the woods. As they walked they stopped every so often to look back towards the mansion, He assumed to make sure no one was following them. Jason stood there going over in his mind what he should do. 

Tasha said we should get the info from Dalmar but so far he’s been nothing but…cagey. It’s not like we have a guarantee he’ll give us the necessary info. This could be our only opportunity to get the intel we need. I could also prove myself to Tasha, to Donovan, to the Agency. Show them I actually have what it takes as an agent. The last thing I want is my first mission to be a failure. Sure, it’s a bit risky, but this is a great opportunity. Who knows it might be our only chance of getting the information we need. 

Jason saw the two men walk farther and farther away in the distance and knew it was now or never. Pushing all remaining doubts out of his mind, Jason glanced around the room to make sure no one had noticed him watching the two guards. No one had. Jason quickly exited the room and walked back to the entryway. He discreetly slipped through the crowd and made his way outside. 

…..

Tasha leaned against the railing of the wooden deck, taking in the majestic view of the mountainside and night sky all around. The views reminded her of the times she and her parents used to go camping in the woods together when she was a little girl. They’d all snuggle up by the fire, tell scary stories, and roast marshmallows. At night she and her parents would lie on the ground and gaze at all the stars. Tasha would point out to them and name all the constellations and stars she knew, which was a significant amount. Her parents would laugh and joke that she spent all the time they stargazed talking her head off. Tasha smiled to herself as she thought of the memory. Suddenly, she saw two men walking in the distance near the edge of the woods. She then spotted another man sneaking behind them. Tasha recognized the outfit the first men were wearing as the uniform Dalmar’s security wore. The other man wasn’t wearing a uniform, rather a tuxedo. Tasha soon realized the man was Jason.

“Enjoying the view,” Dalmar remarked. Startled, Tasha quickly turned around and saw Dalmar standing on the deck. “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Tasha forced a smile. “No, it’s all right.” Dalmar walked closer to her. “The views here are…stunning,” she said as she looked over the landscape.

“Yes, they certainly are,” Dalmar replied, though Tasha noticed that he wasn't looking at the view but at her. 

“In the ballroom, I couldn’t help but admire the portrait of Tigran Hakobyan above the fireplace. It truly was a lovely piece of art.”

“General Hakobyan huh? So you know your Krudian History.”

“Some, though I’d be the first to admit that I’m no expert.” 

“That portrait is actually part of a collection by the famous Krudian artist Garine Sargayan that depicts famous Krudian generals and leaders. I just acquired the collection for tonight.”

“I would love it if you could show me the other portraits. You could tell me more about the men and women depicted. Their lives and conquests. I’ve always been fascinated by history. Besides I have no doubt that one day we’ll be adding your portrait to that collection.”

“I think I can manage that.” He offered her his arm. Tasha took it and the two of them began making their way back inside the ballroom.

As Tasha and Dalmar walked through the doorway she quickly glanced behind her and saw Jason disappear in the distance. She was relieved Dalmar hadn’t spotted him while on the balcony yet she still had an uneasy feeling she couldn’t shake. All she could do now was stick to her plan and hope for the best, though she expected the worst.

[merakiaes]

Put A Ring On It - Arthur Shelby

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: #34 from the smut-list.

Warnings/notes: This was requested some days ago but seeing as I don’t write smut I deleted the request. I got an idea in which I found a way to include the prompt though so I hope the person who requested this prompt sees this! It’s not read through so sorry in advance for any possible mistakes. I hope you like it, let me know what you think xx

Wordcount: 1608

Summary: You have to keep your relationship with Arthur a secret because of your dad, who is in a business agreement with the Peaky Blinders, having a rule that you are strictly off-limits to anyone he deals business with.

The first thing your dad did with every business deal he closed was to make sure everyone on the opposite side of said deal was aware that you, his only daughter and youngest child, was strictly, completely, ultimately off-limits for any sexual, intimate or romantic relations.

In fact, they weren’t allowed to interact with you at all.

As your father held a very successful and powerful spot at the top of the world’s gangster hierarchy, no one had ever dared to cross him on the subject of you, everyone so far having stayed clear of you like you had the clap and it would rub off on them if they even came close to you.

Everyone your father had ever dealt with had respected the boundaries and rules he set, doing everything in their power to stay on his good side.

But that all changed when the Peaky Blinders came around. 

After the first meeting with your dad and his men, Tommy had gone off on a five-minute-long rant on how important it was that they didn’t even look at you, and everyone had given him their word that they would honor it.

But when you came around for the first time, Arthur made the mistake of letting his eyes meet yours, and from that moment forward, you were both absolutely fucked.

He knew he should’ve taken his brother’s words seriously, as this was the first time in a long time he actually admitted out loud that a man had more power than him and that it couldn’t be won, and he probably would have been able to contain himself and stay away, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were the one to make the first move, luring him in even further.

After that, you hadn’t been able to stay away from each other.

Every night when Arthur would tell his brothers he was off to the whore house and you would tell your family you were out for a walk to the stream near your house, you would meet up halfway and find a new place to get familiar with each other both on a spiritual and physical level every time.

But as your father started trusting the Peaky Blinders more and more for every passing day, they also started working more, robbing Arthur of the spare time he would usually use to see you.

You knew you should have been more careful not to get caught, but being away from each other for so long made you desperate, and had made you end up fooling around in his office on this day, while his brothers and your father were out taking care of some business.

“Don’t be so rough, there can’t be any marks.” You breathed, leaning your head to give Arthur better access as he kissed down your throat.

His mustache was tickling you, and when he grumbled against your skin, it only tickled even more. “I’ll try my best but won’t make any promises.” He spoke back, his voice coming out muffled as he kept kissing along your neck and down your shoulders.

You let out a small moan when feeling his hands trail up your still clothed thighs, moving closer to the place you needed him the most.

“I’m serious, Arthur. If my dad finds out, he’ll have your head and lock me into a tower and throw away the key.” You breathed out again, all while struggling to stop your burning desire from taking control over your entire body and mind.

More than anything, you just wanted to let him take you right then and there, let him have his way with you like he had so many times before. But you knew it was way too risky.

“You’re a grown woman.” He muttered sourly against your skin. “You can make your own choices.”

You sighed. “You know he doesn’t see it that way.” You told him, but then lost all train of thought and every ounce of self-control as he undid the button of your pants and wasted no time in dipping his hand inside.

Another long string of curses left your lips and your breathing picked up significantly as he started touching you. Your legs that were wrapped around his body pulled him even closer, desperate for friction and release, and your hands were gripping and tugging at the strands of his hair.

He started kissing back up your shoulder and soon came back to your face, giving you a dark and lustful look before crashing his lips to yours, meeting you in a kiss that could only be described as a complete mess, with teeth clashing together and biting at each other’s skin.

And just then, the door to his office opened behind him, but you were both too wrapped up in your pleasurable activities to notice the three pairs of eyes now staring at you with different emotions until a voice called out.

“What’s going on here?”

You instantly broke apart at the sound of your father’s voice, your eyes growing wide and your ears growing hot as you pushed Arthur away a few steps, his hand disappearing from inside your pants.

“We’re just…” You instantly started explaining but trailed off just as quickly as you realized you didn’t have an excuse.  

Arthur, still breathing heavily from the activates you had just been participating in, spoke at the same time as you did. “Working…”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, struggling to catch your breath while buttoning your pants back up and getting down from the desk. “We were just working…. Together… independently.”

You tore your wide eyes away from your father’s narrowed ones, exchanging a look with Arthur and nodding at each other.

“So… you two work without your clothes on?” Your dad inquired, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes now glued to Arthur and staring him down.

You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out, both you and Arthur at a complete loss at words. 

From behind your father, Tommy was glaring literal daggers at his older brother from the doorway, and John was obviously trying his absolute hardest to keep from laughing out loud at the humor of the entire situation.

But he was the only one who found it even the slightest humorous, the rest of you awaiting your dad’s response anxiously, none of you knowing whether he would let it go or if he was going to draw his gun and shoot Arthur in the head.

“Well.” He said after a moment of truly, and probably fully intentionally, psyching you all out, uncrossing his arms from over his chest and raising his eyebrows at Arthur.

“We’re a religious family and premarital sexual relations is not something we take lightly.” He spoke, and the blush on your face instantly intensified, your hand coming up to cover your eyes with shame that he had just admitted to them all that you were a virgin. Or, well, had been, before you met Arthur, which seemed to be something your dad realized as he continued. “But as it appears you already passed that stage, I’ll expect a ring on my daughter’s finger by the end of tomorrow, or you can kiss your fingers goodbye.”

“DAD!” You wasted no time in exclaiming, a glare now settled on your face.

His lip tugged slightly and you narrowed your eyes, realizing then that he was having too good of a time psyching Arthur out and embarrassing you.

“Put your shirt on, girl.” He said simply, grabbing your shirt where you had discarded it on a chair right by the doorway and throwing it at you. “Your brothers are waiting for us outside.”

You caught the shirt with ease and wasted no time in pulling it over your head, everyone but Arthur adverting their eyes as your bralette was exposed. 

Your father raised an eyebrow at the man at this, causing him to instantly turn his eyes away from you.

Once you had gotten into your shirt and tucked it back into the hem of your pants, you grabbed your coat from the desk behind you and turned to Arthur.

Figuring it was no point in hiding your relationship any longer, you tilted your head up and pressed a kiss to his lips, much to his and his brothers’.

He froze in shock and found himself unable to relax into it like he would at any other time, his eyes instead wide open and nervously looking at your dad over your shoulder, who had his eyebrows raised at him the entire time, keeping eye contact for extra intimidation.

When you finally broke away from him a few seconds later, you stepped away from him, muttered a soft “bye” under your breath and headed for the door without another word, your dad nor far behind. 

You could see when passing the other two Shelbys in the door that Tommy’s glare was nowhere near gone, but that he was slightly more relaxed now that he knew your dad wouldn’t kill them.

The instant the door closed behind you, you could hear Tommy going off at Arthur, but your dad said nothing the entire way down the corridor and outside, the corner of his lip only tugging slightly with amusement as you walked awkwardly beside him.

You knew your dad hadn’t expected him to actually do so which was why he had said what he did in the first place, but the next day, Arthur did, in fact, put a ring on it, having gone to the jewelry store with Polly the second Tommy had stopped yelling at him.

And just like that, you went from business-partners to family.  

[vikingsagine]

The Sacrifices I Have Made (Ivar x Reader)

I don’t know how I feel about this one. It’s darker and more dramatic and Idk if I like the way its written, but yeah. This one is a bit, weow okay, that got real....Anyways, yeahh. Ivar is sexy. Alex is an amazing actor and so fkn sexy like bruh...that’s not even fair. And I just realised, I called Ubbe, Ubba, oops.

Summary: You and Ubbe end up fighting because you discover where Ivar is and you decide to return to his side. But you also find out, Hvitserk has a big mouth...

Warnings: Okay, this is a darker chapter. RAPE. FIGHTING. BLOOD. MORE BLOOD. You have been warned. Mind you, its Vikings sooo, yeh.

(I just realized Lagertha raped King Harald, huh...)

“You can’t leave.” Ubbe demanded, his staunch figure standing in the doorway of your home. You were packing your gears, weapons, clothes, food and what was left of your coin. You knew this was going to happen but made no move to fight Ubbe. “You said you would come with me and Torvi to Iceland. You promised.” 

“I don’t have time for this Ubbe.” You avoided his eye contact, strapping the bag over your shoulder and gripped the fur coat made of animal skin. It was already winter and where you were headed was far but also dangerous. If you played your cards right and left in time, you would be fine. But for that, Ubbe had to leave you alone. 

“I can’t let you go.” Ubbe clamped his hand over your forearm, preventing your calm exit as you tried to stay civil. If things continued this way, you knew it wouldn’t end well. Both of your eyes locked, his filled with determination and yours were the same. “If you leave, Bjorn will send men to find you. He will kill you.” You ripped your arm from his and stepped back.

“Even so, I need to find Ivar and you know that.” 

“You promised you’d come with me and Torvi, you said-” 

“Yes, I promised you that. I promised I would go if Ivar’s whereabouts remained unknown. But, I know he is alive and in Russ.” Ubbe was surprised by your response, staring into the sole of your eyes like, ‘How do you know that?’ You already knew Ubbe had this information, you knew he lied to you, he kept the information locked away. After you told him that one day you would return to Ivar’s side, Ubbe didn’t take it so kindly. “Hvitserk told me. Now move.” You pushed passed Ubbe and stepped out of your house, heading towards the mountain side exit. 

“I can’t let you escape Y/N. Your position remains here.” Ubbe called from behind you, the sound of his blade grazing the ground and his breathing grew heavy. You turned around and placed your bag to the side, knowing well you wouldn’t leave here unless you’d somehow deal with the tall, blonde and blue eyed man. 

“If you want me to stay, you better plan on killing me.” You held your axe in hand and the long metal blade in the other. He chuckled lightly and took slow steps towards you. You couldn’t help but get excited and quickly darted to the male, swinging both weapons instinctively. 

“Always the first one to attack, so impatient.” He mocked. Both staring each other in the eye, weapons pushed against each other, holding your ground. Ubbe dropped his axe and swung it under your right foot, knocking you down. Before his weapon dug into your chest, you rolled to the side, swiveled on the balls of your knees and went for a strike to the rib. 

“That’s because you’re a bitch.” 

“And who is the one on their knees?” He knocked your long edged sword from your hand and you quickly jumped to your feet, taking in deep breaths. Ubbe spat on the ground, challenging you to attack once again. 

“You wish horsetail.” Ubbe stepped forward, body lunging in a long extension and went for the obvious attack to your stomach but you swatted the metal blade, kicked his side and stopped your axe just before his throat. “How many times do I have to tell you? You have to be faster than that.” Ubbe growled and batted the axe away, turning on his heel to decapitate your head but you quickly ducked. 

Your sudden decision to leave wasn’t just because you found out where Ivar was. It was because of the constant dream-like visions. You saw ice and snow. A village built tall and strong but miles and miles of white. Inside was your crippled friend, laying in bed with healthy sighs and sturdy breathing. You could tell, he needed you though he might not know it. And you made a final decision to return to his side where you belonged. You just hoped that it didn’t have to end in you spilling any more blood then there already was, not when you didn’t have to. 

“I can’t let you go. I don’t care if your fate is to be beside Ivar, I won’t let you go.” Ubbe spoke through shallow breaths and a bleeding temple. You were in no better shape. Your lip was busted and your jaw ached, if it weren’t for the bolting adrenaline the pain would have taken more effect. Both of you had no axe or sword or anything in hand, all scattered too far away to actually reach and use. Your heart was torn. Ubbe has always been there for you, he was just as much as family as Ivar was to you. And no matter how a part of you wanted to stay, leave with him to Iceland or rather ‘paradise’ and depart from this life of fighting and survival, your heart screamed to be beside Ivar once again. After everything, you still wanted him. 

“I’m sorry Ubbe. Truly, I am.” Spitting out saliva, you raised your wrist to your face and wiped away the dripping blood. “But you know very well, I don’t belong here. You have to let me go.” His hissed at the words like he had been stabbed with a knife coated in snake venom. Then without hesitation, he threw a punch to your head, you blocked and returned the favor. He tackled you to the ground and wrapped his legs around your waist from your back, while his arms suffocated your neck. He prevented movement from your legs and restricted the flow of your body, squeezing the air out of your lungs. 

“Do you have no dignity?” Ubbe whispered in your ear, grip around your body firm as steel. You tried to pry the lock of his long arms, off but it was difficult. Your lungs began to burn and blood rushed to your face. “After everything he has done to you, you go back.” Ubbe was trying to reason with you, make you see the fault in your need to return to Ivar. He knew everything and he hated how you were so tied to his little brother, how his hooks were so deep in you. He wanted you to stay by his side because you were like blood. “Hvitserk told me everything.” Something sparked within you, a newfound determination and the gears inside your head kicked in. Like wheels, they spun and whizzed, analyzing the situation in a snap of fingers. You pulled Ubbe's mane from the bottom of his hair, yanking it to the point where his grip loosened and you popped your elbow into his stomach. Ubbe reluctantly let go and you rolled yourself free to finally catch air. 

Hvitserk told me everything.

Hvitserk told me everything.

Everything.

Told me.

Everything.

~~~

“You called for me?” You entered the room with no windows, a room solid and cold but with a cripple sitting and waiting. It was odd. He usually sits in the hall where everyone can be seen and lacks privacy. Perhaps because of his win over the great heathen army it had given him paranoia. Or perhaps it was because he humiliated his older brother Ubbe. Or perhaps because Hvitserk stayed by his side. You did not know. “What is it cripple? You want to fuck?” You joked, resting your bow and arrows to the side.

“If I wanted to fuck you, I’d be better off fucking a pig.” Ivar joked and made you roll your eyes. You two had a complicated relationship. Right now, you were fuck buddies. Well, you were his fuck buddy while he was the man you were madly in love with. You couldn’t confess your feelings, since you promised him you wouldn’t fall for him. In the beginning, he specifically wanted to fuck. He said he couldn’t see himself with a woman like you. “You remember White Hair and his men?” Ivar motioned to the men at his side, eyes focused somewhere other than your form. You nodded towards them in acknowledgment.. One tall and quite big but old. The other two were young. You remembered White Hair. He fought nobly and bravely. “They have earned my trust and my allegiance.”

“Okay?” You were confused about your place here. You won the battle, great. Ivar gained new allegiances, good for him. He won the great heathen army, spectacular. But did you really need to be here? No, not really. “If you don’t have anything important to discuss with me, I will return to training your army. So please, save your boasting for your brother.” You turned on your heel and went to head back.

“You promised you’d do anything for me..” Ivar stopped you in your tracks and he gained your attention. “Do you still feel the same way?”

“Yes, of course. I don’t understand-”

“Don’t fight.” He finally pierced into your skeptical orbs, bright and blue. So beautiful. Annoyingly stunning. On the surface you appeared to be calm and collected, on the inside your heart melted at how they reminded you of jewelry. Eyes like Sapphire.

“Excuse me?” You were brought back into reality when the men suddenly took closer and predatory strolls to you. Looking at you like a piece of meat. Something they could take and claim. It pushed your buttons and immediately you drew out your sword from its scabbard, threatening them. 

“What is this Ivar? You said we could have the girl.” Something inside dropped. An overwhelming feeling that shook your bones. Not fear or anxiety. No. It was disappointment and disbelief. The older  peered over to their new leader, annoyed and growing impatient. Ivar reached for his crutch's and approached your figure, not daring to look into your eyes.

“I gave my word to these men.” Ivar touched your shoulder, eyes filled with guilt and displeasure. He did not dare to even see your reaction. He knew it would break him. He knew if he’d take another look at you, he would break the alliance. But the fire inside for his ambitions and his dream overthrew such emotions. And he straightened his back and held his gaze tight on the space in front. “Their loyalty and men for wealth and, and-”

“Me.” You finally pieced the puzzle together. It was an unfortunate truth. One that caused great pain but did not waver your fidelity. You felt a sharp pain travel to your heart, throat becoming dry as tears clouded your clear vision. “I understand.” You simply stated then threw your weapon to the side, shrugging Ivar’s hand off your shoulder in disgust. His touch still filled you with warmth and joy and swarming nerves. You weren’t disgusted in Ivar, you were disgusted in yourself. You were a strong woman. Everyone knew that and were intimidated by it. Every man that has met your path, every enemy is now cold and dead. Each one cut down and beaten bloody or slaughtered mercilessly from your hands. You were a woman of pride and no one could take that away. Or so you thought. Ivar was gone without a second word, his figure disappearing with a click of the door. He left you with sharks looking for a quick fix of your sweetness. The part of you that no one could take. You pushed the tears away, slowing the beat of your heart and wore the dutiful mask you used when committing your responsibilities. The man no older than you stepped in first, hesitant yet excited. He reached for your armor in a rush but you quickly stopped him, swatting his hands away. “I will take my armor off. That is mine.” They nodded in agreement. If they could take your virtue, the gift between your legs that you once had the choice over. You would not let them take your armour. Not like this. Fingers shaking, you stripped the tight leather of your clothes and it dropped. 

Shame.

The fighting part of you  screamed and struggled. Wanting so badly to rip their heads off. Wanting to feel the wetness and warmth of their blood. To hear their cries. Yearning for the satisfaction of their lifeless corpses. You threw the remaining material of your long shirt to the ground. Cool and fresh air hitting the miles of free skin. White Hair and his sons looked at one another, lust filled and proud. There were many men who pined to be in their position, not because you were the most beautiful but because you were an untamed bitch. A wild horse they would ravish and ride. “I will very much enjoy this.” White hair spoke loudly and pulled the strong woman to his body, squeezing and groping areas he had been dreaming of.  

Dishonor.

Tristian, the youngest of the men, had yet to lose his virginity. He is the son of White Hair. Tristian inhaled your sight, impressed by the marvelous sight of your imperfect skin. The body of a true shield-maiden. Not smooth or ragged, just the right thing. Scars and slight muscular arms and legs, but not thin like other women. He noticed you had meat in certain areas and his prick grew hard. “I can’t believe the cripple had all this to himself.” He muttered under his breath, curious hands gripping the back of your ass and slapped. His Father was already leaving his mouth wide open and wet kisses down your body, sucking harshly and biting down with force normal women would have yelped. But you remain stiff and frozen, daring not for them to hear your voice. 

Weak.

Leif, a meaty man,  older brother to Tristian. He wasn’t fond of raping women but he was very eager to fuck a girl worthy of his cock. A strong-willed woman. One like fire. He watched your face, saw the growing anger but also pain. He ogled how you remained cold and emotionless, just like how he discussed with his men. He and his friends joked once during the big feast to victory. He cupped your sex and eagerly pumped his finger, waiting for a reaction which he earned. You gasped and glared down at him. 

Betrayal.

Hvitserk stood outside the door, finding himself in an odd predicament. He tumbled upon the screams and shrieks of a woman coming from a small room. He also heard the sound of skin slapping skin, the groans of men and their vulgar language. Hvitserk was searching for his brother, wanting to know their plan to invade York and instead came across an intense sex session. With a sudden wave of curiosity, he decided to peek through the keyhole. The brown haired man was left stunned, opening his mouth wide as he saw yourself. Three men taking their share turn of fucking you. White Hair and his sons. At first he was mind blown and silently congratulated you for having fun, until he noticed the difference in your screams and the relentlessness of their thrusts. They were merciless and hard. Laughing with one another and mocked the way you were crying and begging. He was ready to knock the door down and slaughter the men for raping you like that. Of course he would, you were like family. A friend. A sister. That’s until he noticed the sword placed centimetres away from you, it was easy to grab and you could have killed the men like nothing. 

Rape.

You were left alone. Body scarred with new bruises, pride and ego taking most of the pain. They left you naked, dirty with their cum and limp. You felt like a corpse. Dead on the inside and a part of you wished it to be true. Wished that they had slaughtered you instead of taking your womanhood from you. Not only did your body burn from agony, but your sex burned like your body had been ripped apart. 

“Y/N?” You snapped your attention towards Hvitserk who stood at the door frame, looking at you with pity but also anger. You quickly pulled your naked self up and ignored the burning pain between your legs, hands aiming for your clothes. With an attempt to stand to your feet, you hissed loudly and fell. Thankfully Hvitserk caught you and wrapped you in his cloak. 

“What are you doing here? Get out!” You demanded and grew ashamed. You felt weak. You felt as if the Gods were looking down at you in such disappointment. You feared the Valkyrie would no longer take you to the gates of Valhalla. 

“Why did you let them rape you? Why did you dishonor yourself like that?” His words cut deep. Dishonor. Was it dishonorable if you did it for the sake of your people and the man you loved? You did not know and instead, pulled yourself away from Hvitserk and gripped the coat closer to your being.

“Tell Ivar the allegiance is a success and that I will not be able to train his army.” 

~~~

A shriek shrill tore through the summer morning, the birds awoke and flew far away. In the small cottage where the sound came and the women rushed, there was panic and pain. All you saw was specs of black and white, dots zooming passed like flies as every fiber of your being tore open. Another wave of pain dismissed and you relaxed for a second. Your Mother was beside you, holding your hand and ordering the frantic woman to stay calm. 

“Almost done, one more push. Just one more.” Your Mother soothed into your ear but it flew out the other. Your body felt like it was splitting in half. You rather be shot by an arrow or scorched by fire or stabbed in the stomach, not once or twice, multiple times. 

“Please, please. I can’t. I can’t.” You begged, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead and your breath hitched again. Another wave of scorching pain taking over. You threw your head back and dung your nails into the sheets and the flesh of your Mother. “Ahhh! Fuck.” Giving the last bit of strength left, you pushed with all your might. The living thing between your legs slipping out and its sudden cry cursed your ears. Relief hit you like a bullet, dropping onto the sweaty and bloody sheet of the mattress you could finally relax. Without a second to spare, your Mother had left your side and was now cooing at the thing that was your child. The thing you dreaded all your life. Children weren’t a part of your plan. You knew having children would be a hassle because of the road you chose, the journey you had to take. But here you were, a Mother to a raped-born baby. An abomination.

“It’s a girl. A sweet little girl.” Your Mother adored the body of fat and new life in her arms, admiring such a little creature. You were very curious and had an instant need to hold the child, but you remembered Ivar. The great heathen army. The attack on Kattegat that was only moons away. Where you belonged. “Here.” Illiah, your Mother attempted to hand your child to you upon meeting your gaze but you declined.

“No, no. Get it away from me. Please.”

“Y/N, it’s your baby-”

“I don’t care, take it away. Just get it away from me. Please.” The older woman looked at you, her daughter, with sorrow and pity. Understanding your choice but also hating it. She knew your position, your dedication to a man she didn’t even know. And instead insisted that she, the baby and the nurses leave your tired figure alone. 

As soon as there was no one around, you let out a loud sob. Here you were, again, suffering. Alone and in pain. Your heart didn’t break, but it felt fragile and weak. So much that perhaps a simple poke to the chest could cause it to cave and shatter. Curling your body into the sheets, you let out a loud cry and sobbed into the pillows. 

~~~

“Hvitserk told me everything, Y/N.” Ubbe repeated once again, staring at you with those light and blue eyes. His words brought back the pain of the past. The past you were so desperately trying to escape. You leaned over and punched Ubbe in the mouth. “He told me about White Hair and your baby.”

“Shut up, just shut up.” Crying out with little too much emotion, your fist came back up and pummeled into his face. Desperately searching for something that wasn’t there. Perhaps it was forgiveness. Ubbe pushed you off of him and climbed on top of you, knocking his forehead into yours with a rush of force. But you wouldn’t let him win, instead you kneed him in the balls and pushed his body into the dirt. “You don’t understand Ubbe, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“My brother had you raped and made you leave your child. Why do you crawl back to him like a directionless bitch? Do you not have honor or self-dignity?” He kicked you as you came hurling onto his body, rolling over to reach for his axe. 

“And why do you care so much? I’m starting to think you might be in love with me.” You couldn’t help yourself. There was no lid to your mouth nor will there ever be. You laid on your back, eyes closed as you felt the sting of his kick. “Say, are you in love with me pretty boy. Truly I’m honored but you have a wife and a child coming alone, I don’t know how that would work.” You yelped as his figure came out of nowhere and swing his axe like a sledgehammer onto your body.

“Why do you give so many things up for my brother?” He took another thrust of his weapon. “Why do you sacrifice yourself for him when he treats you like nothing?” He was on top of you, pushing the blade into your throat as you pushed back. This is not how you were supposed to die. “Tell me!” Ubbe screamed and one last time attempted to cut into your skull. You quickly punched his throat which made him choke and crumble beside you.

“Because he is my destiny.”

 You yelled back and smashed a rock onto his head. Hard enough for him to grow unconscious and stop fighting. His head pooled with blood but you knew he wouldn’t die. After a few seconds of catching your breath, you kissed the sweet man on the cheek and whispered. 

“And because I have to kill him.”

@soleil-dor @youbloodymadgenius @cececolber @heavenly1927