#I can’t be the only one who’s feed is flooded with it

[suugarbabe]

Please someone tell me I am not the only one seeing that guy cosplaying Remus on tiktok and doing wolfstar scenarios and is actually kind of..a cutie patootie??

TikTok name: p4perback

[fingertipsmp3]

I genuinely get too nervous when something goes wrong in the sims. I need to do a really chaotic challenge to get out of my comfort zone

[greengoblinswifey]

White Boy of the Month- Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

warnings: smut, jealous!reader, unprotected sex, oral(f receiving) creampie, praise kink, established relationship, this monstrosity i conjured up.

author’s note: i’ve only ever written smut for characters and not actors so i feel a bit weird about this, hope you guys like it regardless. ps: this is all just fantasy <3

Nicholas was everywhere these days. TikTok’s new “white boy of the month”, and it seemed like everyone had taken notice. You were lying in bed, scrolling through TikTok, watching yet another edit of him. The one that kept popping up on your feed was to "Shake Dat Ah" by Bossman Dlow, and it had blown up. The video cut perfectly between slow-motion shots of him smiling and laughing, looking so effortlessly handsome with that amazing body. You couldn’t help but watch it on repeat.

You were so engrossed in it that you didn’t notice Nicholas walking into the room until he stood by the bed. Your eyes widened as you quickly tried to scroll away from the TikTok, but it was too late. He caught you.

“You’re watching the edits again, aren’t you?” Nicholas chuckled, his lips curving into that playful smirk you knew too well. “Enjoying them?”

Your face warmed, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “I enjoy having you in front of me way more,” you teased, giving him a wink.

He grinned and joined you on the bed, lying beside you. He nestled his head on your chest, his face resting against your tits as he made himself comfortable. You resumed watching the TikTok, this time paying attention to the comments. As expected, they were filled with thirsty women.

“He’s so hot, I can’t take it!” “Nicholas Chavez is my husband now, no one can tell me otherwise.” “I’m gonna need him to come over here and shake dat ah for me.” “Fuck me daddy.” “I need him so fucking bad.”

You rolled your eyes at the flood of heart-eye emojis and wild comments, but couldn’t help feeling a slight twinge of jealousy. Nicholas, sensing your shift in mood, peeked up at you.

“Jealous?” he asked softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hesitated, scrolling through another comment about how someone wanted to marry him and have him deflower them. “Maybe just a little,” you admitted, though you couldn’t help but smile down at him. “It’s not like I can’t see why they’re obsessed.”

He reached up, placing a kiss on your collarbone, his eyes never leaving yours. “They can have the edits, but I’m here with you.”

You exhaled softly, letting go of the jealousy. You knew you had him, right there in your arms, and no TikTok comment could take that away. “I guess I can deal with it,” you teased, your fingers brushing through his hair. “As long as you remember who you really belong to.”

He laughed, his breath warm against your skin. “Always.”

The energy between you and Nicholas shifted in an instant. His playful demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more intense. Without a word, he reached up, pulling your tank top down just enough to free your tits. Your breath hitched as his warm hands cupped them, and you tossed your phone to the side, the TikTok edits now a distant thought, though you’d definitely be watching and gushing later. Your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping softly as he kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

When he reached the waistband of your panties, his lips pressed firmly against your clothed pussy, making you gasp. Without hesitation, he grabbed the fabric and, with a sharp rip, tore them off with his strong, muscular arms. The rawness of the action sent a jolt of arousal through you, and you felt your body respond immediately.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. Your eyes met his, and he smirked. “No woman in any comment section will ever feel my tongue on them like you do right now.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on you, ravishing your clit with fierce hunger. His tongue moved in circles, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your core. His finger slid inside you, curling in just the right way, making you whimper. When he added a second finger, your body couldn’t take it anymore. Your back arched off the bed as you came hard, cumming all over his mouth and fingers, your moans filling the room.

Nicholas didn’t stop, his lips and fingers continuing to work you through the orgasm, his eyes locked on your face. “So pretty,” he murmured between licks, “Your pussy looks so pretty. You look so pretty when you cum.”

Your chest heaved as you came down from your high, your mind hazy with pleasure. His words sent another flush of heat through you as he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening. “I’m all yours,” he whispered, his fingers still inside you, moving slowly. “And you’re all mine.”

“I’m yours Nicholas,” you whimpered and he smiled.

He pulled off his boxers, his big, thick cock springing free, standing hard and ready. The tip was a bright, flushed pink, curving just slightly, making your breath hitch in anticipation. He settled between your legs, teasing your clit with the head of his cock, rubbing it slowly, sending shivers through your entire body. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel him inside you.

He positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly, so slowly, began to push in. His cock stretched you inch by inch, your tight pussy gripping him as he filled you. He let out a deep hiss as he sank deeper, his body trembling from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint.

You clung to his arms, gasping, “You’re so big,” the words barely a whisper as he continued pushing inside, his thick length stretching you to the limit. When he was fully inside, he paused, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily before he started to move, pounding into you in deep, steady strokes.

“You’re my beautiful girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire as he thrusted into you. “And I’m yours. Forever. No one’s ever gonna take me away from you.”

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, your clit rubbing against his hard, muscular body as he drove into you. His pace quickened, and you looked up at him, heart racing at the sight. His disheveled hair fell into his half-lidded, pretty eyes, his lips flushed and parted, groaning your name over and over like a chant, like he was worshiping you.

Your own lips parted in a moan, his name spilling from you like a prayer, like he was your priest, the only one you could ever confess to. The pleasure built inside you with every thrust, his body, his touch, his words claiming you completely. He wasn’t just fucking you, he was worshiping you, and in that moment, you were lost to him, praying with every moan, every cry of his name.

Nicholas could feel how close you were, your breath quickened, your moans growing louder, and your pussy gripped him like a vice. His eyes darkened with desire as he watched the way your body reacted to his every thrust. His cock throbbed inside you, and with a low, husky voice, he rasped, “You’re so beautiful, baby. You’ll look even more beautiful cumming on my cock while I’m fucking you like this.”

His words ignited the fire inside you, pushing you past the brink. With a sharp cry, your orgasm crashed through you, and your body trembled uncontrollably. Your pussy tightened around him, squeezing him as you came hard, your walls pulsating and clenching around his thick cock. He groaned deeply, feeling every spasm as you drenched him, but he didn’t let up. He kept thrusting, his pace relentless, pushing you through the waves of pleasure, letting you ride it out fully.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled through clenched teeth, still lost in the tightness of your body. His hands gripped your hips tightly, feeling your warmth and the way your pussy gripped him like you never wanted to let go. He thrusted in harder, determined to give you more, to show you just how much you drove him crazy.

His own release was building fast, but he held back just long enough to murmur against your ear, “It’s my turn now. And you know what I want.”

Without hesitation, you arched your back for him, pressing your ass high in the air, presenting yourself to him as he moved behind you. Nicholas positioned himself between your legs, guiding his cock back inside you with one swift, hard thrust. You moaned at the feeling of being filled up again, his cock stretching you as he pounded into you from behind.

His grip tightened around your waist, and each thrust was more powerful than the last. His hands occasionally left your hips to deliver firm slaps to your ass, the sound of his hands meeting your skin echoing in the room. “God, look at you,” he growled, his voice low and thick with lust. “So fucking sexy. And this ass, so fucking perfect.”

You glanced back at him, your half-lidded eyes catching sight of his toned, muscular body—his abs flexing with every thrust, his biceps bulging as he held you in place. His messy hair framed his chiseled face, and the raw look of pleasure etched into his expression was enough to make you moan his name all over again, lost in the sight of him.

The pleasure built quickly inside you once more, your pussy gripping his cock tighter, squeezing him as another wave of pleasure started to overtake you. Nicholas could feel it too, his cock throbbing inside of you as he growled low in his throat. “I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m close, baby.”

You were desperate, your voice needy as you begged, “Please, Nick, cum inside me. I want it. Fill me up.”

He hesitated, smirking as he slowed his pace for just a moment. “I can’t hear you,” he teased. “You’re gonna have to say that louder, baby.”

Your desperation heightened, and you practically screamed it this time. “Cum inside me, Nick! I need it! Please!”

With a deep, guttural groan, he slammed into you one final time, holding you close as his cock pulsed inside you, releasing thick, hot spurts of cum deep within you. He moaned your name as he came, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pressing you against him as he filled you up. He didn’t pull out right away, instead, he relished the feeling of being inside you, his cock still throbbing, every muscle in his body tense as he savored the moment.

Before you could catch your breath, he swiftly flipped you over, pulling you on top of him. His cock was still buried deep inside your pussy as he shifted the position, thrusting up into you gently now, making sure you squeezed every last drop of his cum out. You whimpered softly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your pussy gripping him as he guided your hips slowly.

Nicholas gazed up at you, his hands tender now, caressing your waist as he whispered between kisses. “My baby. You’re so fucking beautiful. I love you so much.”

You leaned down to kiss him softly, your heart swelling at his words. “I love you too,” you murmured, your voice tired but full of affection.

Nicholas kissed your forehead and whispered against your skin, “I’m so happy my career’s taking off, and no matter what, you’ll always be by my side, and I’ll take care of you every step of the way. You deserve the world.”

You smiled softly, resting your head on his chest as he moved to get up. “Wait,” you said, stopping him. “Don’t go. I just want to stay like this, with you inside me, and I wanna listen your heartbeat.”

He grinned, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close again. “Okay, baby. Whatever you want.” He kissed the top of your head and settled back, letting you rest against his chest, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear as you both drifted off into a peaceful, satisfied slumber, completely wrapped in each other.

[chuellas]

Comfort Chain | Getting caught in the rain with them

⤷ Ft. Atsushi Nakajima, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara

Warnings | Fem!reader, terms of endearment used (bella, belladonna, doll, etc.), teeth rotting fluff, mention of blood in Akutagawa’s, total WC: 4.2k

A/N: Aaaahhhh I had sm fun writing these. Funny enough I had the most trouble with Chuuya’s :(

Atsushi (853 WC):

The torrential downpour has been going on for well over an hour now. A level four tsunami had been called around the same time and of course you were out during the time of the warning. 

You’ve been studying at this cafe a few blocks down from your apartment every day for almost a month now, it would have been longer, but you only just discovered the small gem. 

You wish you could say you went there for the quiet atmosphere, but if you’ ‘re being honest, there is some sort of agency in the same building that spends a lot of time in the cafe and they’re… rowdy on most days. No, you definitely didn’t come for the tranquility, what kept you coming was the cute white haired boy with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. His eyes are always alight with glee when he’s around his colleagues, but you think you prefer to see the relaxed and almost somber look he wears when he comes down to the cafe on his own, a truly rare occasion, but something you’ve found yourself coming back just to catch another glimpse of it even though you’re pretty sure he has no knowledge of your existence.

So, you find yourself stuck in the cafe while the world around you becomes flooded, not wanting to take the chance of your expensive laptop getting drenched and completely ruined. You have far too many valuable resources and completed assignments there to let that happen. However, you’re stuck in a sort of predicament, you have to go home sooner or later to feed your cat. You can’t just stay at this cafe forever. 

You curse at yourself for not being prepared and at least bringing an umbrella. 

Maybe you can leave your laptop here with the shop owner and pick it back up from him when the sky isn’t dumping water onto the earth below it. You pack up your things, everything but your laptop and move to get out of the booth to talk to the old man behind the counter. You freeze when the front door to the cafe bursts open and makes you jump. 

Was that the wind?

You peer behind to find the cause of the comotion only to be faced with a soaked figure that you immediately recognize at the boy from the agency upstairs. He seems a little out of breath, as if he had just ran here from somewhere in the city and not from upstairs. The owner is the first to speak up as the white haired boy scans the room, like he’s looking for someone specifically.

”What the devil…Atsu-”

The boy doesn’t let him finish, his eyes landing on you and in an instant he’s striding over to you with purpose. “I’m so sorry, Uzumaki-sama, when I come back I’ll make sure to clean up all the water I tracked in but I needed to make sure she hadn’t left yet.”

You cluelessly look around to make sure it is indeed you that the boy is talking about, as if you aren’t the only one sitting in this cafe. You look back over to find him right in front of your table, arm outstretched with an umbrella in hand. Your lips part in shock at the gesture, this boy who you didn’t really know ran all this way from wherever he was in the city just to bring you an umbrella.

“Hi…Uh…I’m Atsushi Nakajima, we haven’t actually met yet but I’ve noticed you’re here almost every day around this time. It’s hard to miss you when you’re so pretty, y’know? A-and I’ve been wanting to introduce myself! But I always chicken out at the last minute but when it started to rain out I realized you were probably stuck here with no umbrella and…well…you seem really smart, I’m sure you can figure out the rest on your own…”

You blink, your mind trying to catch up with his rapid fire rambling. His words came out so fast they almost blended together. It seems Atsushi also hadn’t realized what he was saying because the same time it dawns on you that he called you pretty and your face flushes a bit, Atsushi’s face turns beet red.

You smile at him shyly and reach out for the umbrella he’s offering. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Atsushi.”

You introduce yourself and he seems to settle down and relax, just a dusting of pink spreads across his cheeks now. “Yeah, it’s nice to finally meet you too. Do you…Would you like me to escort you home? Just to make sure you make it alright! It’s pretty bad outside right now..”

You smile at him and let out an amused puff pair through your nose as you nod your head. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

Atsushi smiles widely at you, his eyes shining in that way you’ve come to adore. He takes not only the umbrella from you but your bag too. You thank the shop owner on your way out and Atsushi promises, once again, to be back shortly to clean. 

Akutagawa (776 WC):

The mission ended in a bloodshed, they always seemed to when Akutagawa was involved. His sharp tongue and usually disagreeable personality always makes your efforts in negotiations worthless. You could never understand why Mori insists that the two of you work together. It’s like Akutagawa cancels you out and vice versa.

Nevertheless, you both got the job done. Whether it was done peacefully or forcefully, it was still successful. Unfortunately for you, unlike Akutagawa, you weren’t gifted with a long range combative ability. Yours involves touching your targets, so things always get a little…messy for you. 

The two of you are wrapping things up when the heavy rainfall starts. The sound of the consistent and heavy pitter-patter from the rain hitting against the roof of the - now abandoned - warehouse is soothing. The tension in your body from your previous fight melts away with the melody each droplet creates. The sound almost puts you in a trance and suddenly you’re struck with the strongest urge to wash off the blood that soaks most of your clothing, the smell finally hitting you and making you want to crawl out of your skin.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re moving towards the entrance of the warehouse and Akutagawa is calling after you. “Where the hell are you going? Were you not listening to me? The car will be here in 20 minutes.”

You weren’t listening, hadn’t even realized he’d been talking over all the noise. 

“I’m gonna clean up! Can’t go staining some poor unassuming mailman’s car, now can I? That would be rude, my dear Ryunosuke.” You look over your shoulder at him with a smile and eyes filled with mirth.

His own eyes narrow at you and he clicks his tongue in annoyance, which is nothing new for him, especially when your favorite pastime is pushing his buttons. You watch with sheer amusement when his brow pinches together and an expression of realization flashes across his face. You ready yourself for useless scolding on his part. 

When will he learn? You never listen to him. 

“So soaking the car in water is a better alternative? You’re going to catch a cold if you stand in the rain at this temperature, you imbecile.” Despite his words he follows you out of the building, covering himself with Rashomon so he doesn’t get soaked too.

You don’t respond to him right away, instead you take in a deep inhale and close your eyes to tilt your head up. You let out a long sigh of relief as you feel the heavy and hot blood wash away. It’s not the same as standing under a showerhead like you usually do, undressing in the shower so you can easily wash out the blood from everything all at once. 

No, the rain washing it all away somehow feels purifying. A funny thought considering you’re the farthest thing from the word — perfectly impure. There’s nothing wrong with it, you much prefer it that way. 

Trying to be perfect is overrated anyways.

You don’t know how long you stand there for, head tilted to the heavens in complete serenity. But you’re brought out of your daze when you suddenly stop feeling the rain rolling onto your skin. Your brow pinches together in confusion and you straighten your head to open your eyes only to find an extension of Rashomon now covering you too. You look at Akutagawa with a frown and he clicks his tongue again.

“You’re washed off, there’s no use in you standing in the rain any longer. Unless you planned on getting ill so you could leave me to do all your work for you.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks to the side, ignoring the way your face lights up in amusement.

You coo at him. “Awe, Ryukun…Are you worried about me? You do care! This needs to be shared. I must tell Gin all about this-”

As you go to pull out your phone, Akutagawa uses his ability to snatch the device and easily crushes it. All you can do is look at him and let out a pathetic whine of complaint. Your lips are parted in utter disbelief as you gape at him.

You let out another noise in complaint and sigh. “What in the hell, Akutagawa? That was like the third phone this month, are you joking? You’re getting me a new one the second we get back.”

He still refuses to look at you but promptly lets out a scoff at your declaration and you can practically hear him roll his eyes. 

“Whatever…”

Your eye twitches at his response but, luckily for him, your ride arrives and narrowly saves his ass from your impending wrath.

Dazai (1268 WC):

You come to the conclusion that the universe is entirely against you on this shitty Monday morning. Nothing has gone right since you woke up. Your alarm never went off because your charger wasn’t plugged in properly, so you woke up late. Then when you finally got your phone on you’re met with 10 missed calls and 3 texts from Kunikida, a text from Ranpo, and 4 texts from Dazai.

You promptly ignore the texts from the other two and call Kunikida back. The blonde informs you of Ranpo’s deduction behind your tardiness and you confirm. Luckily, the agency’s second in command is far more understanding with you than he is when a certain brunette is running late or calls in. 

That’s the only good thing you had going for you this morning.

After you get off the phone you try to take a quick hot shower but the plumbing has other plans for you. For some reason the water in the dorms’ building would not get past mildly warm. You were stuck taking a less than relaxing/calming shower. It was at that point you thought you had given up all hope for a decent day.

You’d be proven wrong and shown by the universe that you were sorely mistaken. 

You quickly get dressed and finally decide to check your messages as you stuff your feet in your shoes, a piece of toast hanging from your mouth as you have one arm shoved through your coat sleeve. You imagine that you look like a complete fool but thankfully you couldn’t care less. You balance everything as you unlock your phone, ignoring Dazai’s messages and opening Ranpo’s first. 

From Master Detective🕵🏻: Heyyyy u should wake up. Ur already l8. I let Kunikida know ur alarm didn’t go off this morning. Seemed to settle him down. YW. Call him when u wake up!

You type out a quick thanks to Ranpo and stare at your phone wearily as you work yourself up to open and read Dazai’s most likely over the top messages. On most days you’d find yourself smiling like a clown at the fact you had a message from him but today you do not have the patience. 

A pang of guilt shoots through you at your previous thoughts and promptly look for his contact, rolling your eyes with a fond smile as you see the heart next to his name that you don’t remember putting there.

Dazai-kun ❤️‍🩹 (Received at 08:17): bellaaaa why aren’t you here yet? :( 

Dazai-kun ❤️‍🩹 (Received at 08:23): kunikida-kun is now blaming me for your absence ꒰(˶◞ ‸ ◟˶)꒱ 

Dazai-kun ❤️‍🩹 (Received at 08:29): my bella hates me! you want me dead!! youre not here :( youre not letting me know where you are :( youre not even opening my messages :((

You have to stop reading for your sanity. The way he refers to you as his bella makes your stomach twist in knots and your heart flutter in your chest. It’s nauseating and far too early for this. 

You should have kept reading Dazai’s messages. If you had, you would have known that he warned you about the incoming storm set to hit at any moment. If you had, you would’ve brought the umbrella you always forget at home. But because the damn bastard made you so flustered with his previous message you didn’t. This is somehow his fault, you decide. He did it on purpose.

The universe truly hates you today.

About a fourth of the way there is when it starts. You aren’t even given a light warning of sprinkling, the downpour starts and it just continues to get heavier the further you get. You consider just walking back to your apartment and calling it a day before it had even really started but then you know Kunikida would have a fit. So you resort to running.

You’re not a runner, you never have been. You’re uncoordinated and have bad knees. An awful combination in running. 

At about the halfway point you notice a figure in the distance walking towards you. You can’t quite make the person out but you do have the rational thought of ‘who the hell is crazy enough to be out here in the pouring rain right now?’ As if you aren’t currently in the same position -- maybe even in a worse position because at least this person had enough sense to bring an umbrella.

As you grow closer to crossing paths with the person you notice he’s wearing a familiar light tan trench coat and you almost collapse from relief. You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy to see that stupid trench coat. You pick up your speed and within 30 seconds you’re crashing into your savior and he loops an arm around you as he steadies the both of you.

“Shame on you, Belladonna. You didn’t read all of my messages. Leaving me on read like that and making me worry.” Dazai looks down at you with a smirk and you already regret running to him. “But! I couldn’t just wait around. Oh no! I had to save my damsel in distress!”

You let out a snort as you roll your eyes. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

You certainly don’t like the smug smile that curls at his lips. “I’ve noticed that you always forget your umbrella. So, when you didn’t respond to my messages, I just knew you would forget your umbrella again and guess what? I was right.”

You look up at him, completely unamused. You were grateful and you would have expressed said gratitude if it weren’t for that stupid smug grin that you would love to smack right off of his face. So instead you kiss your teeth and look away.

“So, what? You want a reward or something?”

That was clearly a mistake, because he lights up at your words and seems to seriously ponder what he could ask of you. Hopefully whatever it is, it’s realistic. Although knowing him, it won’t be.

“A kiss?” His voice has gone soft and his expression is hopeful.

Your stomach and chest both do that thing they did earlier and how the hell are you supposed to say no to that when he’s looking at you with those wide brown puppy eyes. You chew on the inside of your cheek nervously. In your mind, the decision had already been made far before he even asked you for the kiss. You bring a cold hand up to his surprisingly warm cheek and watch as his eyelids and long lashes flutter at your slight touch. You guide his face down to yours as you lean up to meet him halfway for the second time today. 

You watch as his eyes slide shut in anticipation, you pause for a few seconds, lips just a breath apart as you soak in this moment and try your best to commit it to memory. Finally you let your own eyes slide shut and gently press your lips to his. It’s gentle, his movements are soft, as if he’s scared to hurt you by accident. His lips are slightly chapped from the way he gnaws on them but it’s surprisingly nice. You both get so lost in each other that he loses his grip on the umbrella.

You make a noise of surprise and your eyes fly open when droplets start to hit your already soaked hair, you separate from Dazai and he lets out a noise of complaint, keeping you encased in his arms. “Dazai- The- The umbrella, Dazai!”

Chuuya (1.3k WC):

“Forecast didn’t say anything about rain today…”

You blink a few times, trying to comprehend the scene before you. You just got out of the most horrendous shift of your life. It has been a bad day for you all around and to top it off you didn’t even have a chance to check in with the one person that would make you feel better all day. But none of that even matters because here he is, standing before you under the overhang for drop off and pick up in front of the clinic you work at. 

You blink again before finally processing his presence. “...Chuuya? What are you doing here?” 

You aren’t ungrateful. You aren’t. In fact, you’re elated to see him here after the day you have, his presence alone brings you comfort. It’s just this one little detail that nags you in the back of your mind. You don’t think you’ve ever told Chuuya the exact clinic you work at, so how did he know he could find you here? 

As if sensing your hesitation, the ginger explains himself by holding up his phone and shaking it gently. “You have your location on…I wanted to walk you home since it seemed like you were having a rough day.”

You look away sheepishly, forgetting you set your location services on after losing your last phone. You look to the side where the downpour of rain ricochets off the large puddle and bounces back onto the ground, never truly settling. Chuuya was right, nothing was said about the possibility of rain, but here the two of you were ready to walk back when clearly mother nature had something to say about that. 

The joke’s on mother nature, though, because you’ve always loved the rain. You grab Chuuya’s hand and tug him towards the direction of your apartment which, luckily, isn’t too far of a walk from your workplace. It takes you 15 minutes maximum to get home on foot. 

“Any chance you brought an umbrella with you?” You stop right at the edge, reaching into the rain and watch as it instantly soaks your hand.

You look over to the ginger in confusion when he doesn’t respond right away. The look on his face is conflicted and you have to wonder what’s going on through his mind to have him make that face. Your patient and wait for him to come back to you. You’re always patient with him, you learned early on that he needs it and you think he’s worth it. 

Chuuya focuses back in, his gaze now clear and on you — the look on his face tells you that he’s made a decision. “I didn’t bring an umbrella, but…there’s something else…”

“What is it?” You tilt your head at him curiously and Chuuya’s grip on your hand tightens for a moment. 

“I’d have to show you. Do you trust me?” A hesitant look flashes across his face and you wordlessly reassure him with a single nod. “Okay. Okay. It might feel odd at first, some people have even told me it’s made them a little nauseous the first few times.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, clearly not following what he means. “I don’t- I’m not following…What are you talking about?”

Your face is painted with a perplexed expression and Chuuya realizes he’s not making any sense. His nerves don’t usually take over like this, but when it comes to you they always seem to get the better of him. You watch as he almost deflates, looking at you like a lost little puppy. The ginger lets out a sigh and his grip on your hand tightens once again. 

“You trust me?” He asks again, this time with more conviction.

You nod your head at him. “Of course I do.”

Chuuya smiles at you and then a strange aura washes over the both of you. A subtle red glow blankets itself over you, it’s warmth relaxing your muscles. There’s a certain weight in the air that there wasn’t before. Chuuya examines you carefully, searching for signs of any discomfort. However, there aren’t any for him to find because you’re completely at peace with this feeling. It’s the first time Chuuya has ever witnessed anyone so at ease while his ability is activated. It takes you less than a minute to realize what’s going on — your lips part in shock at the realization. 

“You’re…You have an ability too?” You’ve only ever met one other ability user, that you’re aware of at least and that was years ago.

Chuuya’s brows furrow at your words and then they shoot when he puts it together. “Too? So, you have a gift? This will be easier for me to explain then. My ability is gravity manipulation. At this very moment I’m using my manipulation to keep the rain from touching us.”

As if to demonstrate, the ginger pulls you out from under the awning and into the rain. You gasp and tense in anticipation of the rain completely soaking you to the bone. When it doesn’t you look to Chuuya and watch as the raindrops bounce right off him only millimeters above his skin. Then you look at your own limbs and it’s the very same effect — raindrops bouncing right off as if you’re repelling them and you suppose you technically are. You stare in wonder at the red glow still emanating from your bodies and you smile softly.

You both start walking hand in hand in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Chuuya clears his throat. “So…You have an ability too? Can I ask what it is?”

His voice comes out almost robotic and you look over to him in concern. His whole body is stiff and he’s looking everywhere but at you. You purse your lips at him, confused by his abnormal behavior. 

An idea comes to mind and you smile at him mischievously. He doesn’t notice of course so you easily turn around and grab hold of his other hand. You tug Chuuya towards you and guide him into a dance. You spin around and take a few steps, guiding him into a coordinated dance.

You clearly take him by surprise, so much so that he releases his ability and suddenly you’re both being drenched by the downpour mid dance. You let out a surprised squeal and pause, then look up to the sky with your eyes closed and smile wide as you laugh in pure glee. You straighten your head forward and open your eyes to look back at Chuuya with a wide smile still plastered on your face. The ginger looks completely starstruck, his eyes gazing at you with an adoring glint in them. It makes you blush, his brazen attitude and intensity never fails to create butterflies in your stomach. 

“Hey, you wanna be my girl?” Chuuya pulls you in, rain still soaking the two of you but neither one of you could care less. 

His words register slowly but when they do, you’re speaking before your brain can register that your mouth is moving. “Do you mean-? Yes. Absolutely, I would like nothing more than to be yours.”

Chuuya is pulling you in and crashes his wet lips to yours. The kiss is deep, his lips melding with yours perfectly, just like they always do. His touch is gentler than usual but you can feel him restraining himself. When you pull away you’re both slightly breathless. His forehead rests on yours and your breath mixes together. You start to flush when you realize that the two of you just kissed so intimately out in the open. 

Chuuya senses your embarrassment and chuckles, a smirk settling on his handsome features. “Why don’t we hurry to your apartment, then we can take a nice hot bath together. How’s that sound?”

You smile softly and nod, it’s like he could read your mind. “Sounds like heaven.”

[vase-of-lilies]

❀  Pairing: Medusa!Wanda Maximoff x Blind!Reader (F)

❀ Warnings: Reader is “sacrificed” and “saved by Wanda”, so much fluff, really quick acceptance, sexual content, Wandas snakes have their own personalities and love to mess with the reader when she is just snuggling with Wanda or when she is just chilling (lol), fingering, oral (r receiving), Wanda just flicking our bean while out on the beach, the snakes calm reader down IDK OK, 

❀Disclaimer The pictures only represent aesthetic and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. Credit to who made the pictures in the banner as well.

❀ Authors Note: I have started reading the story called “Stone Blind” and it is a re-telling of the story of Medusa and telling the “true” story of how she became the “monster” she turned into. I feel like that even though Medusa was assaulted, she deserves love and I think that having a blind reader would help her feel like she was loved based off of her personality, not of fear. This story is a little lighter than the others, but it still is dark with hints of kidnapping and captivity. I will also be keeping Stheno and Euryale, Medusa’s original sisters, just for the organization of plot purposes! There are quotes in here that are loosely based on “Stone Blind”! All credit to Natalie Haynes for the style of Medusa I use!!

It’s a cooler summer day in Greece, rain feeding the dry crops with much-needed food. The drought that Zeus brought to the mainland was devastating, causing crops, veggies, and fruits to cripple before they were ripe enough to pick. This was a punishment for the greediness the people were showing, thriving a little too much to the god's liking.  

It wasn’t uncommon for the god to be selfish like this. He would often flood the fields with too much water, making them die equally fast. Your village was one of the many affected by this cruel situation. You later learn that Zeus had a bad day and wanted to take it out on someone other than his poor wife in the clouds. 

These games he played were difficult to navigate, as the world through your eyes was sightless. Just like tinnitus in the ear, your eyes seemed to feel the same way; clouded and blurred figures with every movement of your eyes. You were born this way, and no amount of begging could have changed what you encounter daily. 

However, with this blindness, your other senses are heightened. Your hearing was better than most, and you did everything possible to protect it as it was your most powerful sense. Every chirp of a cricket, creek of a door, a voice outside your home. You could hear it all. 

It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. “She won’t even know we are gone, she can’t see us. Out of sight, out of mind.” This was the last thing you heard from your parents before they abandoned you. Your heart broke when you heard those words, never feeling such betrayal from someone you loved before. It was that moment that caused you to shut off your emotions to other people. 

At the age you are now, it was difficult to find really anyone who would accept your blindness, and love who you were on the inside. What never occurred to you was the fact that you needed someone who felt the same. Someone who felt an insecurity that needed to be validated by someone similar. 

This was exactly how Wanda felt. She was the youngest of the Gorgon Sisters, born a mortal human but was punished by a goddess out of jealousy and spite. 

The goddess Athena was spoiled by her father, getting everything and anything she wanted with a snap of her fingers. When she was betrayed, she didn’t punish Poseidon, who in fact was the person who caused this problem in the first place. She punished the poor girl who was hurt by Poseidon, all because the situation unfolded in Athena's own temple. 

Why did she choose Wanda to punish? Because she was mortal and did not have to suffer through centuries of war and turmoil. The night she went to Wanda's cave, her sisters were out hunting; gathering for their mortal sister so she could eat. Athena took this opportunity of Wanda's solitude to torture her, ripping every piece of hair from her head, forcing red, writhing snakes to take their place. 

She was in pain for days, her scalp burning with every movement the snakes made. Her nights were spent screaming and sobbing into the darkness of her cave, her sisters trying everything they could to soothe her. They were only met with silence until the day she finally spoke up about who hurt her. Her sisters were angry with the sea god for even looking at their loved one. They had their own way of punishing Poseidon, but of course, the god couldn't care less. He was powerful and could do whatever he wanted, just like his niece Athena. 

Some could say that Athena took pity on Wanda for what her uncle did. And to keep the other gods away from her, the powerful goddess turned the girl's beautiful locks of hair into a head of writhing snakes. This was for protection from her uncle and any of the other greedy and overpowered gods that rule the world. 

No matter the tale that one has heard, what is true is that Wanda is now considered a monster just like her sisters. But who determined what a monster was? Was a monster someone merely different from you? Or was it men that made everything monsters? Men seem to be afraid of powerful women, or women with sharp teeth, wings, and tusks. 

Monsters are misunderstood. 

The two sisters are some of the most gentle creatures to adorn the earth's surface. Sure, they hunt animals and look a little scary, but they keep a flock of sheep, learn how to cook bread, and take care of their mortal baby sister. 

The first time they met Wanda, Stheno’s talon gently brushed along her cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen when she arrived on the sand. Now that Wanda is a grown woman, her immortal sisters adapted to her needs. She spent most of her time on the beach, but now spends her time in the depths of her cave, too scared to come out of fear that Poseidon will hurt her again. 

Stheno and Euryale vowed to never let anyone hurt their beloved sister ever again. They hoped that one day she would find a lover who would be willing to love her for who she was. Someone she could grow old with, and love with every fiber (and snake) of her being. 

The snakes… they each have their own personality. There are thirteen (13) in all. Wanda or anyone for that matter has named them or really knows the difference. However, the two snakes at the very front of her head, close to her temples are easily told apart. On the left, there is Fang. She has a visible attitude and can hardly believe her fate was to be on top of someone's head. On the right, there is Lucky. Just like her name, Wanda could tell that she felt lucky to be a part of her host. Fang was sassy and defiant while Lucky was just happy to be there. 

Though the rest of the snakes are just as present as Fang and Lucky, they each have a mind of their own and tend to make Wanda laugh despite her fate. Their hisses of protest when Stheno says that it’s getting dark and to come back into the cave, or when Euryale asks Wanda for her help with something while the snakes are sunbathing. My god, do they love the sun!

You did too. It was for a much different reason than what a seeing person might believe. You loved the sun for its two main purposes; to light up and warm the earth. Now, that may be what everyone thinks of Helios, the god of the sun. But to you, it meant so much more. With no sight and just a blurry field of vision in front of you, the sun kept the colorful blobs of people and obstacles slightly more viewable. 

Selene, the moon goddess was not your favorite. Although she lights the night, most occasions it is only a sliver of light. Once a month do you really get to enjoy the darkness with some light guiding you from place to place. On the nights of the new moon, you stayed in the comfort of your home for the night. Although you could not see the phase of which Selene was in, you knew the darker the next night got, the closer it was to a new moon. 

On one particular evening, you were unaware that it was a black moon. Meaning it was the second new moon in a months time. It was getting dark, but you had the thought that it would be bright enough to make it home, only to make a wrong turn when a man pushed past you. 

Villagers helped you put your fallen fruit back into your basket, and a kind woman gives gently places your bamboo guiding stick back in your hand. You thank them, but you missed the opportunity to ask them the direction of your home. Physically you knew where you were, but again, it was getting dark and you were all turned around. 

Hoping for the best in a difficult situation, you chose to turn right. Usually at this cross road, you would be facing North and your home was East, so you would turn right. Unfortunately, this rocky path led you right to Poseidons’ sea itself. And the god was ever so pleased to have a clueless woman enter his domain. Coming up from the oceans depths, he approaches you in your wandering state.

“Can I help you find your way, miss?” The god asks. Your head follows the voice to the right, unaware of who asked the question. 

“I may be a bit lost,” You say with honesty. “I was on my way back from the market, but stumbled and lost the direction I was going.” Explaining yourself to the stranger felt like the logical explanation, but Poseidon used your confusion against you. 

“No, I think you’re in the right place…” He smirks, gently putting his hand on your shoulder. Your head snaps to the sudden touch, clutching your baskets handle a little tighter. Poseidon isn’t aware of your blindness, all you are to him is a means to an end. He is in debt to his father, Kronos. 

Poseidon knew the moment you stepped foot on to his cool sand, he knew you were perfect. As a god, you think he would know everything about you, but you were very wrong. 

“Here, let me help you find your way back to the road.” He says, removing one of your hands from the basket handle. You allow him, but you are confused as you continue to feel sand beneath the sole of your sandals. The moon was not there, and you were helpless. 

Kronos, the god of time, was betrayed by his son. Poseidon decided to ask his father for time. All the time in the world, when he got ahold of Wanda. He wanted to spend every waking minute with her, fucking her and holding her when she is begging to see her sisters again only to drag her under the oceans surface when he is bored of her. Poseidon gets bored very easily, but Wanda’s pussy was different. Although his father did not question what he was going to use this time for, automatically a debt was owed. 

Poseidon decided against using this time with Wanda, as her whining and begging becoming increasingly annoying. So he sent her back to her sisters to live in peace. That is, until Athena came along of course. He was adamant that he shouldn’t have to pay his father back since he did not use the time. Kronos lended him this time willingly without question. He was determined to get it back. And Poseidon had his sacrifice right in front of him. 

His hand pulled you in the direction of a large rock by the edge of the water, a place that Poseidon remembers greatly. Andromeda was supposed to be sacrificed there, but Perseus swept in and came to the rescue, stopping a large sea monster with the help of Athenas spear and Artemis’s winged sandals. It was a shame to see such a beautiful sea creature leave the world in such a damaging way. 

“Here we are, back on the road again, just a little further,” Poseidon says, his other hand taking the basket from your hands. 

“Hey w-wait, I need tha-” You are cut off by a calloused hand clasping over your mouth. 

“Just stay still and it will all be over soon.” The god whispered in your ear. Your breaths were staggered as you heard his words, confused by what he meant. Soon his hands were untying the soft rope from around your waist holding your silk toga to your body. The fabric fell to the ground, leaving you only in your under garments. You whimpered, trying to understand what is happening.

“Please, whoever you are, let me go. H-have my fruit, t-take the gold!” You fought hard against the gods rock hard torso, fearing for your life. 

“I told you to be still!” He shouted. His arms wrapped your body and he threw you over his shoulder. Damp hair rubbed against your skin as you struggled and a chiseled arm wraps their way around your legs to keep them still. A hard hit to your barely covered ass made you yelp, and you tried scratching at Poseidons back. The immortal couldn’t feel pain, so he took no thought of it. 

With little to no trouble at all, he put your squirming body on the sand and held his hand over your neck to keep your back against the rock. The power he had was nothing compared to your mortal strength. So he held you still by straddling your legs, while his hands expertly tie your wrists together with the very rope keeping your toga on. 

“Please sir, please I’ll do anything.” You whimper as tears fall from your grey eyes. The god ignores you and takes the chain set under the rock by Zeus himself and begins to connect your now-restrained wrists to it. You were trapped, and you could only pray to the gods, any of them, to show you any mercy. 

“There. No need to cry, little one. You are a divine sacrifice for a god that has a lot of power. Don’t struggle, it makes him angry.” Poseidon said, and he tightened his already perfected knot in the rope. 

He stepped back from your crying form and looked up to the sky. “I come to give the debt I owe! Isn’t she enough, father??” He shouts his arms opening. The sea is uneasy, his emotions controlling the tide. 

Thunder claps and you know Zeus is present. “No, brother. Not now.” Poseidon growls, the intention of this sacrifice going to his father, not his sibling. 

The rain soaks into your skin and clothes causing the thin band holding your breasts and underwear to become sheer and see-through. Poseidon took notice of your exposed body and paused his message to his father. Making his way to you, he smirks as he sees you trying to move your wrists from the sturdy, iron padlock connecting them to the chain. “It’s no use, ομορφιά μου (my beauty).” 

You don’t look at him, your futile attempts at escaping only end in failure. He growls when you ignore him, not acknowledging his clear compliment at calling you “his beauty.” Approaching you, he knelt down in front of you and roughly pulled you to face him by your chin. The moment his eyes met yours, an epiphany hit. 

“You’re blind?” He asks, pulling his hand away from you like you were a leper. He knew his father would never take such a broken sacrifice. “Disgusting.” He spat while he stood up. He begins to walk away, your ears barely picking up on his steps thumping in the sand. 

“W-wait! Wait please let me go! I wan-want to go home!” You shout his way, but the god only ignores you walking into the sea and leaving you exposed for anything. 

In a sense, you were grateful that you were no longer Poseidon's sacrifice. But you were still stuck in your current situation, so you went to your last resort. You started to call out, shout, scream, to anyone who you thought could save you. An hour had passed and your voice was nothing more than a croak. 

You were starting to believe that you were going to die on a God's beach with no one in sight to help you. However, someone was watching from afar. A woman who fears to look at you without the knowledge that you are blind. But she was in the same position as you, and she wanted to help you. Yet, she hasn’t had anyone to keep for herself. 

So she considered. Would she be just as evil and selfish as Poseidon for taking you? Could she make you believe that she rescued you and instead not let you leave her cave? Stheno and Euryale would most likely not approve, Wandas sisters love her and only want what is best for her. The snakes on Wanda’s head hissed in question, Lucky gently rubbing her scaly head against her cheek. 

“I know, I really shouldn’t. But she was a victim of that retched god too. Maybe I can finally feel in control… when I am in control of her? I- I don’t want to turn her to stone…” Fang hissed in response, her tongue tickling her opposite cheek. “I could blind fold her, and you’re right, she needs someone to take care of her. She looks like she’s about to die right there. That bastard…” Wanda says to Fang, starting her journey from the beach's small cliffs to the rock you were restrained to. 

Before she makes it to you, she gathers the fruit that fell when the god took you and sets them back into the basket. Then she reaches for your discarded dress and picks it up as well. Finally, she reaches you. Her heart breaks when she sees you. Your wrists are rubbed raw, blood soaking the brown rope surrounding them, tears are stained on your cheeks and your eyes are closed. 

Wanda rips a piece of cloth from your toga and kneels down next to you. Peacefully asleep, you are still as she ties the cloth around your eyes. With the blindfold on, Wanda leans her head down to the rope encasing your injured wrists, one of her snakes near the back of her head — the one with much sharper fangs — begins to chew on the rope. The rope broke free and your arms fell loosely to your lap. 

The smallest whimper left your mouth, exhaustion keeping you fast asleep. Wanda admired your stoic look, your exposed chest moving up and down slowly with each breath you took. She sighs softly, knowing how it felt to be left exposed, for anyone to come across. Her empathy grew as she looked at you, your nipples were seen through the sheer fabric of your strophic (greek bra) and the wind nipped at your skin causing goosebumps to pebble. 

Shaking her head and mentally cursing the sea god, she wraps the fabric of your dress around your body; Adding a length of seaweed to keep it secured to your waist. Oh so gently, she lifted your unconscious body into her arms smiling as your head rolled against her chest. Lucky and Fang were eager to meet you, both of their heads trying to get as close to you as possible. 

“Hey, you’ll get to meet her when we go back home, ok? I promise,” Wanda chuckles, and the snakes pull their bodies back to their place closer to her scalp. 

The journey to her cave was not very far, just around the bend of the cliff. North of where you were destined to be sacrificed. She took care with each step taken, making sure that her prized possession was still asleep, and comfortable. Lucky and Fang looked over you as you slept, keeping their distance until Wanda let them say hi. As scary as they may look, they are all puppies at heart.

Chills crept up your spine as Wanda entered the cave with you in her arms, and goosebumps began to pebble on your skin. She takes notice, gently laying you down on her straw bed in the dim fire-lit cave. Your head lulled to the side, causing Wanda to jump slightly, forgetting that you had the blindfold on to protect you. 

Stheno and Euryale were surprised to see another woman besides their little sister inhabiting the cave, and they curiously looked over your unconscious body. 

“Wanda? Who is this sleeping woman?” Said Stheno, creeping quietly behind her sister. 

“I don’t know her name yet, but I saved her from an untimely death. Poseidon had gotten ahold of her, hoping for a sacrifice, but was unsatisfied by her,” Wanda explains, sighing as she drags her knuckle down your lightly textured cheek. “That bastard is nothing but trouble.” She sighs, trying her hardest to not look at her sisters, understanding that even immortals can turn to stone with one gaze at her eyes.

Euryale eyed Stheno, worried that Wanda may be turning into someone she swore to never become. 

“Did she come willingly?” Euryale asked, settling her wings against her feathered back. 

“She hasn’t woken up yet, but I am sure that she will understand, right?” Wanda was anxious about your awakening, your acceptance of your stay was appreciated and not feared. “Should we wait outside until she wakes up?” 

Wanda's older sisters nod their heads. “I don’t want to frighten her when she opens her eyes. I believe we would be some of the last monsters she would want to see.” Of course, they don’t know that you are unable to see…

“I will go tend to the sheep,” Euryale said.

“I will go set up a fire on the beach and start cooking your meal,” Stheno said, both creatures leaving to do their tasks. 

“And I will go help, and wait for my sleeping beauty to awaken.” Wanda says with a smile, softly swiping her thumb over your cheek. 

~~~~~~~

The same as every other day, your eyes open to a blur of shapes and colors. However, this time is different- you are met with complete darkness, the atmosphere is cold and almost damp, and the scent of salt water fills your nose. There is cloth over your eyes, something you don’t take mind to. Trying to find where you are, you feel around your surroundings to retrieve your guiding stick only to be met with sand, small rocks, and straw. These sensations were familiar but not something you would regularly wake up to. 

Standing up, you struggle to navigate through the cave you concluded you were in, reaching for a wall or something to stabilize yourself with. You let out a sigh of relief as your hand reached a rocky wall. Now you were stuck, you didn’t know what way led out of the cave. 

“Hello?” You call out, your voice echoing through the cave. Your head turns in the opposite direction as you hear padded footprints against the sand. Your worries heightened, unknowing of the person approaching you. 

“Hello dear, I’m so glad to see that you are awake, how do you feel?” The smooth voice of a woman is heard. Gentle, yet assertive. Confusion melts across your face and you take an unintentional step back, causing a slight hissing from the woman in front of you. 

“I- I feel fine, wh- where am I?” You ask, distressed and scared. Being unable to see every day was fine with you, as long as you knew where you were. That fear skyrocketed the moment you woke up in a new environment. 

“No need to worry about that, sweetheart. Come with me,” The woman said, and with a soft hand, she grabbed yours. The unexpected contact started you, but you followed nonetheless. 

“Who are you, a-and why am I here? I want to go back to my home, please.” Cracks in your voice made Wanda turn to face you, only to be met with tears rolling down your cheeks. 

She sighs and stops just at the entrance of the cave. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry, you are safe here now. That god won’t get you here.” 

“God?” You don’t remember what had happened the night before, your memory fogging up after falling at the crossroads. “What do you mean, “safe now?” I just want to get back home, the fruit was so expensive.” 

Pulling away from Wanda, you grab at the cloth around your eyes. The fabric falls from your head and hits the ground faster than Wanda can stop you. Panic fills her system, and she quickly turns her head away from you, her head of red snakes following. 

A soft red tendril of energy hits your temple, and you fall unconscious. Before your body hits the ground, Wanda turns and catches you just in time. Guilt takes over her as she looks at your sleeping form, Lucky and Fang are equally as concerned for you as their host. 

The scaled head of Fang nudges against Wanda's cheek, a small hiss emitting from her mouth. “Yes, she’s ok. She was nervous and wanted to see where she was, I know that. Im just going to put her by the fire until she wakes up.” She responds to Fang, her little eyes rolling as she gently taps his head from getting any closer to you. 

As gently as she can, Wanda lifts you into her arms and brings you out to the fire that Stheno lit. She sits down and lays your head in her lap, softly brushing a few grains of sand from your cheek. A groan emits from your closed lips and you subconsciously roll your body closer to the warm fire. It brings you a sense of safety a blanket could never do justice. 

But the feeling of being so close to Wanda felt just as safe, even though you did not know where you were or who you were even with. Her presence gave you a comfort that you hadn’t felt before. Her soft toga rubbed against your cheek, and you nuzzled into it subconsciously. Wanda’s lips turned up into a smile, petting your hair with a gentle hand. The sensation begins to wake you up, pulling you from your forced slumber. Slowly your eyes open, the dull shade of yellow filling your blurred and confined field of vision. 

The blindfold was still on, however, you didn’t mind this time. Whoever’s hold you are in made it clear that they do not want to be seen. Although you are unable to see, you keep your eyes glued to the fire in front of you, the light slightly dimmed by the blindfold. 

“Are you awake, dear?” Wanda’s voice sounds from above you, and you nod your head that lays in her lap. 

“Who are you?” You ask, your voice filled with curiosity but not fear. 

“My name is Wanda, and you are here with my sisters Stheno and Euryale. You are safe, sweetheart.” Wanda responds, her knuckle softly dragging down your cheek. She smiles as you begin to sit up, allowing you to fully sit next to her. 

Your next question was quick to exit, “Where are we? I was on my way home but was turned around,” You explained your situation, leaving out the part where the god almost sacrificed you to his father but left you for the dead when he decided you were not good enough. “I hear water,” You point out. 

“Yes, we are on the beach a ways North from Athens. You needed help, as when I found you, you were chained to a rock,” Wanda said bluntly. “But you’re safe now,” Her snakes hissed at the thought of the woman in front of them being used as a sacrifice, but Wanda was quick to hush them. “And what is your name, sweetheart?” 

The feelings of the rope around your wrists caused you to cringe in disgust, your arms wrapping around yourself.

“R-right…” You respond, trying to get the thought of death from your mind. Shaking your head, you sigh softly and lean back on one hand, answering Wanda's question, “My name is Y/n.”

“What a beautiful name, but I think I’ll stick to calling you sweetheart. Is that alright?” Wanda asks, her finger softly brushing over the exposed skin of your arm. A small smile grows on your lips and you nod. 

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” You say, a small giggle leaving your mouth. “I- um, I do have to ask. Why am I blindfolded?” The question was burning at the back of your skull for what seemed to be hours. From the first time you woke up to now, you had been aching for an answer. 

Wanda hesitates. When she was turned by Athena, she never looked at her sisters. Even though they were immortal, they could still turn to stone if they met her gaze with their own. You hear a soft sigh and her soft voice tainted with sadness answer, “There is a dangerous creature around here that has the ability to turn any entity into stone once you look into her eyes. I cover your eyes for the purpose of protection.” 

“But I can’t see,” You protest, reaching for the fabric. Wanda's hand wraps around your wrist as she stops you. “No, you don’t understand, I can’t see, even with the blindfold off. I was born blind," you explain, trying to help the woman in front of you understand that you were not in danger. 

“Blind?” Wanda asks, your hands falling into hers as you move to your knees. “Meaning, you are unable to see anything?” 

You nod, hoping she can see you. “Yes. There are only blobs of color here and there, but other than that, I can’t see a thing.” It was always difficult to explain what you could see. There was no reason it should be this hard as you could always say: ‘I can’t see anything,’ but you always go to the ‘blob of color’ explanation first. 

“I don’t want to risk it, sweetheart. Blind or not, we don’t know who is not affected by her power,” She pauses, “Ive only just begun to get to know you, I don’t want to talk to a statue of such a beautiful woman.” 

You feel heat rise from your neck, to your cheeks, all the way up to your ears. Her compliment makes you smile brightly. “O-oh, thank you…” You say, shyly looking away from her. “I understand, but, I really don’t think I will be affected, honestly!” You attempt to grab the blindfold again, this time successfully ripping it from your head. The fabric falls to the ground and you blink to allow your eyes to settle back to normal. “If I can’t see the creature, I don’t think it will be a bother,” You smile.

Wanda sighs and closes her eyes, pulling her gaze away from your beautiful figure. She hums as she feels your hand against her shoulder, your thumb softly rubbing over her skin. “May I feel your face? I would love to have an idea of what you look like to others,” You ask her, not wanting to seem too forward with your request. “Only if you allow it…” 

Wanda keeps her head down, her snakes moving down to your hand to move their little tongues over your skin to learn more about you. 

“Oh, oh? What are these?” She hears you say. She is taken aback by the giggling she hears next. “They’re tickling me,” You say, your sweet laughter filling the air. “Is this your hair?” Your finger hovers in the air just above her shoulder and the rest of the snakes lick it as well. 

Wanda’s silence is enough to answer your question. 

“I wish I could see them, they all seem so gent- ow! Except this little one,” Fang, still a little nervous to be around a new face, bites down on your finger. It was not as painful as you thought it would have been. Wanda jumped at your pain and immediately tapped Fang’s head to discipline her. 

“No biting! She is a friend, not an enemy!” Wanda whisper-shouts at her, and you giggle quietly to yourself. “I apologize for her behavior, she knows better.” The snake hisses in return and she sighs as she moves her gaze up just a little bit. Her eyes land on your beautiful breasts, your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your toga. Wanda knows she should not be lusting, but she can’t help it. 

You tilt your head at her scolding her head of red snakes, and your hand falls. “I don’t want to intrude on your home. Thank you for saving me, Wanda, but I best be on my way,” You say, standing up. Carefully, you try to reach around for a stick of some sort, nothing close to you. All you can do is stand awkwardly, trying to keep calm as you listen to the waves crashing against the sand. 

“No, you need to rest, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day, so why don’t you sit down and we can eat? Stheno has made some bread, and the chicken is just about done.” Wanda tries everything in her power to make you stay, not wanting to force you just yet. In her mind, she knows she will make you stay. 

Your stomach rumbles, and Wanda chuckles. “It seems like your hunger has spoken for itself, so lets sit you down again.” 

Before Wanda is able to help you sit down, or protest about anything for that matter, you reach up to feel her face, your eyes meeting hers. Although you were unable to see her beautiful green and red mixed eyes, she saw your grey ones. Your irises held no color, and a scar-like line of [your original eye color] strikes through your right eye. 

You didn’t turn to stone…

“Wanda… Wanda look!” Stheno exclaims. The woman you are looking up at tilts her head, her power not working on you. 

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You ask, retracting your hands from her cheeks. Instantly, she pulls them back. 

“No, no you didn’t hurt me, sweetheart. I- I am just surprised… my power, it didn’t work,” She says, churning confusion inside of your head. 

“Power?” You pause, putting two and two together. “The creature you mentioned… the one that can turn people to stone, you are her… aren’t you?” 

Wanda nods, your hands moving with her head. “Yes, and, I was trying to protect you, but-”

Your thumb gently brushes over her lips, the rest of your fingers ghosting over her facial structure, sculpting a picture in your mind. “I’ve only heard legends of a so called “monster” in these parts. But I have yet to meet a monster… Besides that god that tried to sacrifice me of course, but you? You are no monster.”

Your words made Wanda's heart melt. She has me wrapped around her finger already… there was no way I was letting her go. Her inner thoughts were loud, and she smiled softly as your fingers grazed her lips again. 

“I’m very. Much aware of my inability to see what most people can with their eyes. But…” You pause, your hand cupping her jaw. “I do see your heart, and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. You took me in when I was vulnerable and scared, and I can’t thank you enough… You are no monster, Wanda.” You whisper, smiling as you feel Wanda’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you against her body. 

“We’ve only just met, sweetheart…are you already falling for me?” Wanda teases, making you giggle as you lay your hand on her shoulder and drop your head to her chest. 

“I might be… or I might just be hungry,” You prod back, your stomach doing somersaults as her lips press to your forehead in a soft kiss. “I hope its the former…”

~~~~~~~

As the night went on, you, Wanda, and her sisters enjoyed the food. You were happy you got to know Wanda a bit more while you talked amongst yourselves. She told you about her troubles with Poseidon, and how she became the 'monster' everybody claims her to be. She mentioned how she is still mortal and will die a death as any other mortal would. 

It saddened you that she considered herself a ‘monster’, but you comforted her every time. She was not a monster in your mind. She was a victim who was punished for someone else’s doing, as were you. Although it was Poseidon who made his father angry, he punished you by trying to sacrifice you. You found common ground with Wanda. 

“I think we will head into the cave for the night,” Said Stheno, nudging Euryale. “Just be sure to put the fire out when you both are done.” 

Wanda nodded at her older sisters, shooing them away as she turned back to you. “It is such a beautiful night… I wish you could experience it the way I am,” She said to you, her fingernails tickling your arm as you lay in her lap. Her heart flutters at the feeling of your body weight in her lap, it grounded her. 

“I can see how beautiful it is by feeling it,” You turn your body so you are looking up at Wanda, her snakes curiously looking back down at you. “I feel a small breeze against my skin, and I can hear the waves crashing against the sand. I can smell the salt coming from the sea, and I can hear your breaths. All of these things are such a beautiful image to me.” 

Wanda’s lips pull up into a smile, a real, genuine smile. It had been so long since she felt as happy as this. It had been so long since she felt so carefree. As you spoke about your experience with your other senses, Wanda softly caressed your cheek. She hums quietly as she notices goosebumps form on your arms. “I have taken my sight for granted,” She says suddenly, taking in everything you said about feeling everything surrounding you. 

“To a deaf person, I have taken my hearing for granted as well, but I am grateful that I can hear your voice,” You counter her thoughts, wanting to make her not feel so guilty about her advantage of sight. 

“Your thoughts are just as beautiful as you are, sweetheart,” Wanda pauses, her fingers moving from your cheek to your neck. Slowly she moves closer to the dip in your dress, your breasts now free from their undergarments, and lying loosely behind the fabric of your toga. “You have the body of a goddess, the mind of a sage, and such a sweet personality.” 

Her hand gently cups your breast, nimble fingers rubbing over your hardened nipple, peaking through the white dress. Your hand goes to hers, holding it still. She freezes, “Can I see you, sweetheart? All of you?” She asks, knowing exactly how it felt being forced to submit to someone much more powerful than her.

As you sit upright, you untie the piece of seaweed holding your dress around your body, the sleeves sliding down past your shoulders finally revealing your round, perfectly shaped breasts. Wanda sucks in a soft breath, an aching in her belly starting to form. She needed you, badly. 

From her crossed-legged position on the ground, Wanda moves to her knees. You can sense her shifting, and you look around to follow the noises. Wanda's smooth hands softly guide you to your back, laying you gently against the sand below you. She then slowly pulls the rest of your dress off, exposing the rest of your beautiful body. “You are even more than I imagined…” She whispers, leaning down close to your chest. 

She presses a kiss to the valley of your bosom, moving her lips up your sternum and to your neck, hovering just over your jugular. You can feel her smile against your neck and you turn your head to expose more skin to her. 

The goddess above you couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Looking at your perfect body from her perspective was riveting, and it drove her mad. Her breath fanned against your lips, your body frozen and waiting for her to kiss you. That dull aching in Wanda's core grew, and she leaned down to kiss you deeply. Your arms wrapped around her neck, and you giggled as some of her snakes licked your hands. But Wanda wanted something else. 

Her eyes began to glow a bright red, her head of snakes wrapping around your wrists. You gasped but allowed it to happen. As she leaned down lower, her snakes held your arms to the ground, holding you open and exposed to Wanda. As she continued to kiss you, her hand crept down your belly and to the soft hairs of your mound. She rubbed your petals, smirking against your lips as she could feel how wet you already were. 

“Mmm, are you all wet just for me, sweet girl?” She whispers against your lips, chuckling softly as you nod desperately. “Such a good girl,” Her fingers finally dip between your wet folds, perfectly rubbing your button of nerves. A moan leaves your mouth, your legs spreading to give her more access. 

“Feels s-so good, W-wanda,” You whimper, never feeling such great pleasure before. Your back arched against the cool sand, your arms still pinned to the sides of your head. Squeezing your eyes shut, you saw starts as the tight coil in your core began to form. 

“I can feel that you’re close, sweet heart,” Wanda mumbles darkly against your cheek. Your mind clouded with a lustful mist, your legs shaking as your orgasm came crashing down upon you just as the waves did the sand. A loud moan leaves your mouth, Wanda's name being cried out by the woman underneath her. 

Your breaths come out in soft pants, gulping in as much air as you can as your orgasm calms down. But Wanda is far from done. Her snakes uncoil from your wrists and she moves her lips down your body, her mouth meeting your dripping folds. You let out a whimper, your clit sensitive from her previous ministrations. “Relax, sweet girl…” She whispers, “I need to taste you,”

Her lips close on your engorged clit, swirling her tongue in just the right way to make you moan her name. She spreads open your pussy with one hand, her fingers prodding at your tight hole with the other, and you jolt in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Wanda's snakes are quick to calm you down, their heads rubbing against your thighs in gentle circles. 

“Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well,” Wanda says, two of her long fingers sliding into your soaking hole, a whimper leaving your mouth at the same time. “Keep making those cute little sounds, love,” She eggs you on and you give in to every command. 

Your moans are music to her ears, the frequent movement of her fingers pulling each mewl from your throat. A ‘pop’ is sounded as her lips suctioned off of your clit, but returning soon after.

Her fingers move faster, and her tongue moving around your clit pushes you over the edge, causing your second orgasm to flow through you. Your juices squirt out of your quivering hole, soaking Wanda’s face along with some of her snakes. 

“Oh… how beautiful, and delicious you taste, sweetheart.” Wanda smiles against your pussy, pressing her lips to the top of your mound softly and kissing up your body. Her lips wrap around one of your nipples, and your hand reaches to find her pussy. 

“Wanna feel you…” You say, rubbing your hand over her belly and lower, finally reaching her pussy as you push your hand under her dress. 

“By all means. You are mine and I am yours,” Wanda says, resuming the pleasure of your nipple. 

You feel her clit, rubbing her in slow circles at first. Slowly, your fingers move to her hole as well, gently easing into her and smiling as you hear a moan from her mouth. The vibrations from her throat send more pleasure through your nipples, pulling more moans from your own mouth. 

As you move your fingers in and out of her wet cunt, the palm of your hand rubs against her clit. You can feel her body shake, her breath quiver, and her breasts against your own body. All sensations you never thought you would love so dearly. 

Wanda is close, and she leans up from your nipples to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, her hole clenching around your fingers as she cums. You swallow her moans, your free hand coming up to cup her cheek as you return the kiss. 

“Wands,” You whisper, not moving away just yet. Gently, you slide your fingers from her pussy, bringing them to your mouth and seductively sucking her juices off of your digits. “Such a ravishing taste, my love,” 

Hearing those last two words made Wanda's stomach do backflips. Belonging to someone was all she wanted, and she wanted you to belong only to her. “Your love?” She asks, pulling away just to see your lips move. 

“My love, Wanda,” You confirm, smiling as you lean up to kiss her again. 

~~~~~~~

It is long past midnight, and Wanda has you in her arms, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. With your head on her chest, you can hear her heartbeat, the soft thumping calming and lulling you to sleep. 

“Thank you for saving me, Wanda. I- I don’t know what how I can express to you how grateful I am,” 

That sparks an idea in Wanda’s head. You were a kind and loving soul, most likely willing to do anything to repay someone for their own kindness. So, she makes her plan fall right into place. 

“Stay with me? Live here with me and my sisters? We all can tend to you, help you navigate, and we can even go to the village just East of here. But stay, please?” Wanda asks you, her lips gently pressing against your head as you think. 

“I have no one back where I am from. They all shunned me because I couldn’t see. I can’t say no to such an amazing and thoughtful proposal as this,” You sit up, maneuvering your body to straddle her lap as she leans against the rock that was settled closer to the water. You nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, Lucky gently laying her head on yours as well, and you close your eyes. “I would love to stay with you, only you. Forever.” 

[safination]

Bringing the Rain to You

|Masterlist|

Pairings: Adam x Reader Warnings: None! TLDR: It doesn't rain in Heaven, but sometimes all you need is that one, special person, and maybe, fake rain isn't so bad after all.

Wow, would you look at that? A non-Alastor post! I'm surprised as well, but this is for the biggest Adam simp ever @redvexillum. You feed me Alastor, and I feed you Adam. It's a mutualistic relationship. Enjoy my short one-shot. I would make this longer but if I keep writing I might have to go into overtime. I only spent like an hour or two of this, don't judge too hard. I have yet to achieve god level of writing

It doesn’t rain in Heaven – maybe, it should, honestly.

There’s something comforting about the soft pitter-patters when droplets hit the roof. Or the drip of cool water down flushed skin. The memories call out for you, teasing you with reminders of days spent under the clouds, hand in hand long before the concept of rings was invented. Most of all, it reminds you of golden-yellow wings.

Association is a weird thing. It doesn’t listen to rationality – it just is.

Maybe, if it rained up here in Heaven, the floods within you would filter out your chest and seep into the clouds and flush down the streets.

You curl your legs closer to your chest, sulking on the park bench. Children’s laughter echo between the trees, and are lifted high up into the clouds. So much happiness in one are—

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Water droplets hit your skin, and slide down your cheek.

It’s . . . raining? That’s impossible. It never rains in Heaven, but here it is, drops of water kissing your face.

“Hey, babe.” There it is – the most beautiful golden-yellow wing. It hovers above you, shielding you from the rain. Adam smiles down at you, standing with such a proud puff as he uses his wing to shield you from the rain. “What’s a fine bitch like you doing out here alone?”

“I wouldn’t be alone if I had my husband with me.” You lean back on the bench, cocking your neck back to look into him. “You’re going to get wet, honey.”

“I know!” Adam laughs, and his wings extend as he does. “But it’s fucking hot—admit it, you’ve always wanted me to do this.”

You beckon him closer, and wipe away drops of water from his helmet with a smile. “How is it even raining, baby?”

“Who the fuck do you think I am?” Adam says. “Rain is a no biggie. For you, I can make it storm.”

“How sweet.” You clutch your heart and swoon into him. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Adam moves his wing, far enough to show you what’s above but still close enough to shield you—nothing more, nothing less. “It doesn’t rain in Heaven,” he says. “But I can bring the rain to you.”

Lute hovers above, a garden hose in her hands. There are three other angels next to her, each with their own garden hose. Lute gives you a thumbs up, and you give one back. Sweethearts. That’s what they are—each and every one of them.

“Baby, you can’t keep using them for personal use,” you say, but still . . . it’s a smile that appears on your lips. “Sera will be furious.”

“Nah, these bitches don’t mind—they love us! And technically, you’re also using them for personal use.” Adam gives them a thumbs up, and they all salute back with a proud puff. “I didn’t find you when I got back from He— uhhhh . . . I came from the house, and I didn’t see you.”

“And your next guess was to go here?”

“I assumed you were moping as usual,” he says, and despite the helmet you can see how he rolls his eyes. “Figured you were here. What are you doing here anyway?”

You show him your brightest smile. “Thinking of divorce.”

Adam’s wing flicks a little. Still, he keeps it above your head to keep your dry from his rain. “Fuck . . .no!” He removes his helmet, and those golden eyes stare straight into you. “I’m not letting you divorce me.”

You press a kiss on his cheek, letting your lips brush him with each word. “And why not?”

“Babe, I’m not letting the baddest bitch in my life leave me.”

“Baby, you disappeared for twenty-four hours again.” You kiss his nose, and a bit of that fake rain transfers back to your lips. “I would have liked a good-bye before you left for wherever it is you go during this time of the year.”

Adam brings his hands under your armpits, and lifts you to stand. He pulls up part of his robe and brings it over your head until you’re snuggled into his clothes and flushed straight into his squishy chest. You can feel the heat of his skin.

Those wings of his hover above, shielding the both of you from the rain he commanded.

“What a stupid fucking thought.” Adam pulls you, setting you on his lap. “Moping because I didn’t say good-bye.”

You lean into his chest, snuggling under his robe. “Baby, you mope when I forget to kiss you good-bye during the mornings.”

“That’s different,” Adam tells you, and leans his chin over your hair. “I’d fucking combust if I don’t get my good-byes. Guts and blood would just be everywhere. It would splatter on some poor fucking kid.”

“What a sight that would be.” You bring your legs up, and curl as deep as you can into him. “ . . . Thank you for the rain. I love it.”

“I’d make a thunderstorm for you if you stop thinking of divorcing me.”

“Me?” You press a kiss on his cheek. “Divorce you? I would never do such a thing.”

Adam brings his arms around your waist. “Fuck off,” he says. “You just said you were thinking about it. This is . . . fuck, what’s it called? . . . You’re gaslighting me!”

“Baby, I was just pulling your leg.” You cup his face, squishing his cheeks as you do. “Who in their right mind would leave you?"

“I can think of a few.”

Adam grabs your chin, and presses his lips straight into you. Kiss after kiss after kiss after kiss. That’s what happens during twenty-four hours of not seeing each other. It’s like you’ve become newlyweds once more.

He traces the gold ring around your finger. “Marry me?”

You kiss his jaw. “I already did that.”

Adam rolls his eyes, but still . . . he settles his chin on your shoulders and stares straight at the Winners who smile and laugh. There’s a far away look on his face – it’s the same look he gets every single year without fail – and you know he’s thinking of the Sinners down in Hell. Sometimes you forget, those Sinners were his children too.

“Come back to me, baby,” you mumble against his neck, pressing a little kiss. “You’re drifting off to a place I can’t follow. What do you need?"

Adam’s wings flutter a bit, and he presses you deeper into his squish. “Stay with me.”

“Done.” You kiss his cheek. “What else do you need?"

“Keep cooking for me.”

The second kiss goes on his other cheek. “Always.”

“Listen to me play,” he says. “I thought of a new riff. I think you like it.”

“Whenever and wherever.” A kiss to the nose.

It’s funny to see him scrunch his nose a little. It’s not often he takes off his helmet in public, but you’re not going to complain. Not when there’s that boyish grin spread across his lips. “Love me.”

“I do.” You press one, single kiss on his lips. “Always and forever.”

It doesn’t rain in Heaven, and it never will. Gone are the days of those grey clouds, and the sound of the droplets during the night. But . . . maybe, it wasn’t the rain you were chasing because despite garden hoses flinging water above you, you’re perfectly happy.

[msbigredmachine]

Behind The Mask (Roman Reigns)

Sometimes love demands that you fight not for yourself—but for someone who can’t fight back.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Black fem OC

Warnings: HEAVY themes of abuse, angst, fluff

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: This story touches on an extremely sensitive subject matter, therefore a trigger warning is in place.

Song inspos:

Beneath Your Beautiful - Labrinth & Emeli Sandé Anytime You Need a Friend - Mariah Carey

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

The dim fluorescent light in Roman’s locker room hummed faintly as you pushed the door open. You’d been searching for him all day. Meetings, creative briefings, segment reviews—none of it could move forward without him. But he’d been ghosting everyone, including you of all people, one of his closest friends behind the scenes. It wasn’t like him to disappear, especially not when you were scheduled to run through one of the most important segments for tonight's episode of SmackDown involving him and the rest of the Bloodline. But there he was, sitting in the corner, head bowed, his long hair cascading forward like a curtain shielding him from the world. You noticed the subtle rise and fall of his chest and the tremor in his hands. His massive frame seemed diminished—small in a way that set off alarm bells.

“Roman,” you called softly, stepping inside, coming closer.

He didn’t respond.

You crouched before him, the smell of musk and faint cologne mingling with the tension in the room. “Roman, I’ve been looking for you all day. We need to go over—”

Reaching out, you pushed back his hair gently. Your heart dropped when his eyes met yours—there was a faint, yet jarring discoloration on his cheekbone, purpling against his tanned skin.

“Is that a bruise?” you asked, your voice low and tight. Without thinking, your hand reached out to tilt his face toward the light above. His jaw tensed under your fingers. “What the fuck happened?”

Roman flinched, tilting his head away. “It’s nothing. An accident.”

“An accident?” You exhaled sharply, anger bubbling in your chest. “That’s what you told me the last time!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice low and guarded.

“Yes it does!” you continued. “You only wrestle on PLEs, Roman, so where the hell are these injuries coming from? I’m not an idiot!”

“Just drop it,” he muttered, his voice thick with shame.

Your mind raced. The memory of his “accidents” flooded your mind. Last week, a split lip. Two weeks before, ugly scratch marks on his neck that forced him to let his hair down. But this time, the dots connected. Your stomach churned as the realization hit you like a freight train. 

Sabine.

That beautiful, manipulative, venomous witch you never liked. The same one who dripped perfection in public and poison in private. She clung to Roman like a parasite, feeding off his fame, draining his strength and his pockets. You had seen right through her from the start but Roman had fallen for her. Hard. And now, it was breaking him.

“No.” You rose to your feet, the weight of your fury grounding you. “No, Roman. I know who’s doing this to you.”

His shoulders stiffened.

“It’s that fucking psycho, isn’t it,” you spat, “What did she do this time? What did she—”

“Don’t call her that!” he snapped, standing abruptly. He loomed over you, his chest heaving, but his eyes betrayed him—pleading and broken. “It's not what you think. She loves me. She just…has her ways.” The words came out hollow, almost like he was trying to convince himself. 

“Well she sure has a fucked up way of showing it!” you shot back, tears pricking your eyes. “You deserve better, Ro. You know you do!”

Roman stood abruptly, towering over you, his presence as commanding as ever, but the cracks in his armor were all too visible. He raked his hand through his hair, his face clouded with emotion. “We’re working it out on our own. We are. Just…please don’t tell anyone. I’m begging you.”

“So I should be quiet until she seriously hurts you? Injures you so bad it ends your career?” Your voice cracked. “Roman, a person who truly loves you would never put their hands on you!”

“Stop,” he said firmly, his voice a strained plea. “Look, I don’t wanna talk about it no more. Just...stay out of it. Please.” He turned and stormed out of the locker room, the echo of his departure leaving you alone with your racing thoughts, a storm of anger and heartbreak swirling inside you.

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

Two weeks passed. Two agonizing weeks of you avoiding Roman and Roman avoiding you, knowing he wasn’t ready to hear the truth. That woman was physically abusing him and for some reason he couldn’t leave her. You were desperate to help him but you didn’t know how.

He never opened up about the full extent of Sabine’s abuse, but pieces of the truth started to fall into place when you confided in Naomi. The two of you were backstage during a SmackDown taping when the subject of Sabine came up. Naomi’s expression darkened, her usual bubbly demeanor replaced by a rare seriousness.

“I know Roman says to mind our business, but I have to tell you something,” Naomi said hesitantly. She glanced around, making sure no one was eavesdropping. “Jimmy and I went on a double date with them a couple of months back. And, girl, I couldn’t believe the way Sabine talked to him.”

Your stomach sank. “What do you mean?”

“She ripped into him right there at the table, over something stupid,” Naomi explained, her voice low but tight with anger. “He forgot to order her drink or something, and she just…snapped. Called him useless. Told him he was ‘lucky’ she even gave him the time of day. In front of us, no less.” Naomi’s fists clenched at the memory. “Jimmy almost got up to defend him, but Roman brushed it off like it was nothing. Just laughed like it didn’t bother him.”

You shook your head, your jaw tightening. “And Jimmy didn’t say anything?”

“Of course he wanted to, but Roman told him not to. Said she was just having a bad day.” Naomi paused, her voice softening. “I didn’t want to push, but you could see it in his eyes. He was embarrassed. Humiliated.”

Your blood boiled as Naomi continued.

“She didn’t stop there, either. Every time he tried to speak, she interrupted him. Or rolled her eyes. At one point, she even said, ‘What kind of Tribal Chief can’t handle a simple dinner reservation?’ Like, who says that to someone they love?”

You exhaled sharply, your heart breaking for Roman while fury built in your chest.

“That’s when I started to notice the little things,” Naomi added. “How he doesn’t talk about her much, how he flinches sometimes when she raises her voice. I hate seeing him like that, but he’s so damn proud. He won’t let anyone help him.”

He used to be so full of life. The Roman Reigns that everyone knew—The Head of the Table, the sweet, shy guy who still commanded the attention of any room he walked into, the guy who’d throw you into a headlock just to make you crack a grin. Now, it was like he was just going through the motions. There was a hollowness to him, a dullness that wasn’t there before. Sabine has stripped him of his fire, and you were not sure if it was ever coming back.

Naomi reached out to squeeze your hand. “You’re close to him. Maybe closer than anyone else. I think…I think you might be the only one he’ll listen to.”

You swallowed hard. Roman’s pain was worse than you’d imagined, and your resolve to help him only deepened.

But one social media post torched your plans and shattered your heart into a million pieces.  

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

Scrolling through your phone during a rare moment of downtime, an Instagram notification caught your eye. Seeing it was Sabine’s page, you were hesitant, but curiosity got the best of you. The pinned post showed her perfectly manicured hand adorned with an obnoxiously large diamond ring, resting in Roman’s palm. 

You stared at the screen, your chest tightening with a mix of rage and anguish. You couldn’t breathe. The room around you seemed to tilt, and tears blurred your vision.

How could he do this? How could he propose to her?

You couldn’t stop yourself. With shaking fingers you dialed Roman’s number.

“Hey,” he answered.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Roman?” you snapped, skipping pleasantries. “You proposed to her? After everything?”

He sighed, the weight of a thousand unspoken truths in his voice. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I wouldn’t understand? Try me,” you fired back. “Explain to me how proposing marriage to the woman who’s beating you makes any sense at all.”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice quieter, sadder.

The laugh that escaped you was stripped of any and all humor. Angrily, you hung up, tossing your phone onto the bed. The tears you didn’t realize you were holding spilled over, breaking down, not for the first time, over him.

Why couldn’t he see you? Why couldn’t he see how much you cared for him—how much you loved him?

Why?

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

The jet ride to Europe was eerily quiet as you settled into your seat across from Roman. You’d barely spoken since the news of his engagement broke, but you couldn’t ignore how miserable he had been since. It was also impossible to not notice his painfully conscious attempts to keep his sunglasses firmly in place despite the dim cabin lighting.

“Take them off,” you told him quietly.

“What?”

“The sunglasses. Take them off.”

He hesitated, his face a mask of barely concealed terror. Reluctantly, he slid them down, revealing the fresh cut on his upper cheekbone.

You exhaled sharply, your chest tightening with anger. “What did she do this time?” you asked, your voice soft but firm.  

He didn’t answer, but the way his shoulders slumped told you everything. Tears welled in his eyes, and your heart broke all over again. “Roman, tell me,” you pressed.

Roman looked away, his jaw clenched. “She threw her phone at me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking under the weight of his confession.

Your hands curled into fists. “I swear to God…”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, “It was my fault…I shouldn’t have made her mad. I-”

“No! Don’t you dare!” Your voice cracked. “Don't you dare blame yourself. This was not your fault!”  It baffled you. You were a hothead by nature, but you’d never, ever lay hands on anyone unprovoked, especially not someone you loved. You didn’t understand why he was letting this happen to him. 

The tears began to climb, but with great effort, you pushed them back down. “Roman, you need to talk to someone. Please,” you said gently, no longer above begging. You couldn’t stand seeing him like this anymore, the man you’ve known for so long reduced to this version of himself that barely even felt human.

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I’ve got it under control.”

But it wasn't true. It simply was not true and you both knew it. “Under control?” you repeated, incredulity lacing your words. “Roman, have you seen your face?”

His eyes flickered with something—regret, maybe. “I’m fine.” Again, the words came out like an automatic response, a lie he was telling himself, desperate for it to come true.

“No, you’re not,” you responded. “You used to have this fire, this… drive.” You paused, struggling to find the right words, your frustration bubbling up. But it’s not directed at him. “And now, you’re a shell of yourself and I blame her. She’s breaking you. Please…swallow your pride and leave her!”

His gaze hardened, but it was more out of guilt than anger. “I...I can't...I love her. And she loves me,” he muttered, another weak excuse, fooling nobody. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. The sad truth of it was suffocating. “Sabine doesn’t love you, Roman. If she did, she wouldn’t be doing this to you. She wouldn’t treat you like you’re nothing. She wouldn’t tear you apart piece by piece and make you feel like you’re unworthy of love.”

Roman finally met your eyes, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the man he used to be. But just as quickly, it vanished.

You wanted that man back. Badly.

“Come here,” you whispered.  

Roman hesitated, but you patted the seat beside you. When he finally shifted closer, his walls crumbled. He collapsed into you, his broad shoulders trembling as you wrapped your arms around him. His big frame somehow felt small and fragile as he curled up against you, like a wounded puppy seeking solace. 

“I’m not weak,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice breaking.

“You’re not weak,” you repeated softly, stroking the top of his head. “But baby, you are hurting. You're unhappy. I hate seeing you like this.”

Roman exhaled shakily, like the weight of the world was pressing on his back. “I don’t know how to get out of it. I feel trapped with her, yet at the same time I feel like I can't breathe without her,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t know what to do and I'm so fucking tired.”

“Oh, baby,” you murmured, kissing his temple, squeezing your eyes shut as your tears and his flowed together. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

As you comforted him and cried with him, your mind raced, quietly strategizing, plotting. It was crystal clear that Sabine wasn’t going to stop until Roman was utterly destroyed. You would die before you let that happen.

It was time you took matters into your own hands.

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

When you returned to the States, you made your move. Roman might have begged you to stay out of it, but you couldn’t stand by and watch him suffer. Sabine needed to be dealt with.

Damn the consequences. He would thank you for it later. 

You stood outside Sabine’s apartment, the same one Roman was paying for, the edifice as gaudy and ostentatious as she was. Your blood boiled as you raised your hand to knock. But the door was slightly ajar, and inside, you heard sounds that made your stomach churn.  

That trifling bitch.

The place reeked of perfume and deceit, at least those were your thoughts as you burst through the door unannounced. The scene before you confirmed everything. Sabine, tangled in white rumpled sheets, on top of another man—a married man, judging from the mark of his wedding ring still visible on the fingers gripping her gyrating hips.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you muttered, pulling out your phone. You snapped pictures, the flash startling the couple.  

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sabine screeched, scrambling to cover herself.  

“Exposing your sorry ass,” you replied coldly, turning your attention to the man with a death glare. “And you. Go back to your wife, with your thirsty ass.”  

The man froze, unsure of what to do, while Sabine lunged at you, her expression a mix of fury and panic. “Get out! Get the fuck out, you crazy bitch!”

But you were ready. “You damn right I’m crazy!” Blocking her first swing, you shoved her back, rushing forwards and tackling her with a spear that Roman would have been proud of. You both went flying over the bed but you were on her like white on rice.

The fight was brutal, a messy flurry of punches, slaps, and screams. But you had rage on your side, and Sabine was no match for it.

“You think you tough, huh?” you growled, pinning her down and raining blow after blow on her exposed ribcage. “You wanna put hands on a man cuz you know he won’t hit you back? Try that shit with me, bum ass ho!”

Sabine clawed at you, but you dodged her attacks effortlessly. You landed a solid punch to her jaw, sending her head snapping back and crumpling to the ground.

“Get up,” you hissed, your chest heaving as you dragged her by her hair across the linoleum floor. “Get your ass up!”

Her partner stood frozen in the corner, too much of a coward to intervene. Smart. He didn’t want this smoke. You delivered a swift kick to Sabine’s side followed by another punch, your anger boiling over. Each blow was cathartic, a release of every ounce of pain you’d witnessed Roman endure.

The cuts. The bruises. The tears.

For him, you held nothing back.

“That man loves you!” you spat, crouching down beside her as she lay against the wall in a pathetic heap. “Only God knows why but he does. He worships the ground you walk on, and this is how you treat him? You don’t deserve him!”

Sabine whimpered, blood trickling from her lip, her face streaked with tears. “I’m gonna call the cops,” she spluttered.

You laughed darkly. “Go ahead. I dare you,” you hissed, holding your phone in front of her face. “I have pictures of everything you did to him. Every mark, every bruise…all documented. I’ll make sure everyone knows what a lying, cheating, abusive bitch you are. Matter of fact…” You tapped a button and smirked. “The pictures I just took of you and ole boy here? I just sent them to Roman. Maybe now he’ll finally dump your ass.”

Sabine sneered. “You're so desperate. Always have been for that man. No one will believe you or him. Big bad Roman Reigns getting beat up by little bitty me? He’ll be a laughing stock!” 

“See, now that’s where you’re wrong. I dug up the footage of the restaurant where you had your double date with Jimmy and Naomi. You punched his injured ribs in the parking lot. You slapped Roman in front of the restroom three times. You thought there were no cameras there, didn’t you?”

Sabine’s eyes widened in horror. With her last strength, she swung wildly at you, trying to grab your phone. “Okay stop…Don’t, okay? Please don’t! You’ll ruin everything.” The bitch was begging now, pissing you off even more.

“Fuck you!” You slapped her. “Now listen to me carefully,” you said, your voice icy. “You’re going to call off the engagement. You’re gonna disappear and never contact Roman again, or I’ll post everything online. Everything. If you so much as look in his direction, what I’ll do to you will make you wish I killed you tonight. Do you understand me?”

Sabine nodded, trembling from pain and fear.

“Good.” Straightening up, your smirk was cold and triumphant. “Rot in hell, you dirty whore.” Spitting at her feet, you turned on your heel and walked out.

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

Roman’s voice was tense when he called you.

“What did you do?”

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago,” you replied, unapologetic. “That bitch was not only hitting you, she was cheating on you. She deserved worse.”

“Baby, I told you to stay out of it,” he said, but there was no anger in his tone—just exhaustion.

“And I told you I couldn’t. I care too much about you. I wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing any longer.”

There was silence on the other end before Roman sighed. “Where are you?”

“On my way to yours. Are you home?” you asked him.

“Yeah.”

“I’m coming over. I wanna see you.” 

When you arrived at his house, he was waiting for you on the porch. Jumping to his feet, he hugged you tightly, then his eyes lingered on your bruised knuckles. “Your hands…”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

Roman’s expression softened, but his eyes were heavy with guilt. “You could get in trouble for this.”

“You’re the goddamn Tribal Chief. I know you can make that shit go away,” you said with a small smirk. “But even if I do catch a case, I won’t care. It was worth it.”

Despite everything, Roman chuckled softly. He looked at you with a mix of gratitude and sadness. “Babe…”

“I’m serious. I’d do it again,” you declared, your voice trembling with all the sincerity you could muster. “I fight for the people I love. That’s just who I am.”

Roman’s gaze searched yours, raw and vulnerable. “Why would you do all this for me?”

Your heart melted as you cupped his face. It was time to come clean. “Because I love you,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m in love with you. And you deserve to have the kind of love I feel for you.”

Roman’s eyes widened, softened, and for a moment, the world stood still. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned up and kissed him. To your surprise and delight, he kissed you back, the tension melting from his body. It was a kiss of desperation, relief, and unspoken longing.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. Emotion flickered in his eyes, relief mixing with hesitation. “I’ve always had feelings for you,” he confessed. “I never acted on it but Sabine kept accusing me of cheating on her with you. She said you only wanted me for my money and the clout. Her exact words.” He frowned. “She said you'd never love me like she did. And I believed her.”

Your heart ached for him. “She lied to keep you under her thumb,” you said gently, taking his hands in yours. “And I would never do that to you, Ro. You mean a whole lot more than that to me.”

He sighed. “I know. I’ve always known. And I love you too, but…I need time. She…she fucked me up. I need to figure out who I am without her.”

Resting your palm tenderly on his cheek., you whispered fiercely, “I know exactly who you are. You’re Roman fucking Reigns. The Head of the Table. The billion-dollar face of WWE. And most importantly, you’re the kindest, most humble, selfless man I’ve ever known. Don’t let her take that from you.”

Smiling his first genuine smile in weeks, Roman kissed your lips again, his relief palpable. “Thank you,” he breathed, “For everything.”

“You don’t ever need to thank me. I’ll do anything for you. And I’ll wait for you for as long as you need,” you promised.

He smiled softly—a happier, hopeful smile. “Thank you. Although…I believe it’ll be sooner than you think.”

Your heart soared. “Good.”

It wasn’t a fairy-tale ending, but it was a start. And that was enough.

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

Roman sits on the black leather chair, his hands clasped tightly, his leg bouncing nervously as the camera crew makes last-minute adjustments to the lighting. The room is quiet except for the low hum of equipment, but the weight of what he’s about to do makes the silence feel deafening. He stares at the floor, his usually confident presence replaced by hesitation and vulnerability.

You stand just off-camera, watching him closely. Despite the months that have passed since Sabine’s abuse came to light, the remnants of her cruelty linger—not just in the faint bruise still visible near his eye but in the way his shoulders tense and his jaw tightens. 

He’s terrified.

“Fuck...I don’t know if I can do this,” he mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear.

You step forward, crouching beside him so you’re at eye level. “Yes, you can,” you say firmly, your voice steady and soothing. “You’re not just Roman Reigns, the Tribal Chief. You’re Roman Reigns, the human being, the survivor. And someone out there needs to hear what you have to say. You’re going to save lives today.”

He looks at you, and for a moment, you see his doubt waver. You reach out, placing a reassuring hand on his cheek. “Baby, it’s okay. I’ll be right over there.” You point at the spot where you’ve been standing. “You can look at me if you need to.”

Roman takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly before nodding. When he opens them, a flicker of his familiar determination shines through. He shifts in his seat, straightens his back, and looks directly into the camera as the red light flicks on.

“My name is Roman Reigns,” he begins. His deep voice reverberates around the room, steady but carrying an unmistakable weight. “You know me as a WWE Superstar, a champion, the Head of the Table. But today, I’m here as something else—a survivor of domestic violence.”

He pauses, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “For a long time, I stayed silent. I thought admitting the truth would make me look weak. I thought people wouldn’t believe me, that they’d say, ‘He’s a strong man, a wrestler. How could someone like him be abused?’ But abuse doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care how big you are, how strong you look, or what kind of life you live. It can happen to anybody.”

His voice cracks slightly as he adds, “Abuse isn’t just about fists. It’s the words that cut deeper than any punch. It’s the control, the manipulation, the fear that keeps you silent. I told myself it would get better. That I could fix it. That my love would be strong enough for her to change. But the truth is, no one changes unless they want to. No one deserves to live in fear—no one. And love should never, ever hurt you or make you feel bad or guilty…or worthless.”

Roman glances down for a moment, composing himself, before looking back at the camera. “To anyone out there who feels trapped, ashamed, or afraid: You are not weak. You are not alone. There is help, and there is hope. You have the strength to break free, and you deserve to be loved and respected.”

Pausing, he casts a nervous glance in your direction. You smile at him, mouthing the words, “I love you.” That seems to bolster him, as his voice has gained a new strength when he continues. 

“I’ve learned that even the strongest among us need help sometimes. Asking for it doesn’t make you less of a man, less of a person. It makes you…human. I needed help, and I got it, and I’m grateful.”

Roman exhales deeply, his gaze unwavering. “Today, I’m standing here not just for myself but for every survivor who’s been told their pain doesn’t matter. It matters. You matter. And if my story can help even one person find the courage to speak up...to break free and walk away...then it’s worth it.”

He nods slightly, his voice softer now but just as resolute. “You are not weak. You are not alone. And you are worth fighting for.”

THE END

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

I hope this wasn't too heavy. I know you guys aren't used to this from me. How did I do?

Protect good men.

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[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Hypersexual

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: reference to SA if you squint?, Astarion being soft, reader being defensive af, persistent Astarion, happy ending because I'm weak

————————————

It was one of the first things Astarion noticed about you. Your bed was rarely empty. The Grove, the Goblin Camp, the Underdark, Moonrise Towers, etc. Everywhere you went you seemed to have a warm body beside you by the end of the night. Himself included. He pined for your attention. Feeding from you daily brought you close, sleeping with you brought you closer, opening up bit by bit brought you even closer. And yet, he could still find the occasional rando leaving your tent at first light. If he listened closely enough, he could almost always hear sniffles coming from your tent every time someone left. He typically ignored it, opting to not care so he didn’t get attached. Unfortunately for him, he was attached. He had been for a while and seeing people leave your tent was like a knife to the chest every time. He wanted to confront you eventually, so that's what he did. 

He walked over to your tent, hearing the sniffles intensify the closer he got. When he peered inside he saw your naked form, balled up tight, sobbing quietly. He saw the hickies and claw marks the tiefling from last night had left on you. “Y/N?” he whispered.

You swiftly wiped your tears away as you moved to cover yourself up. “Astarion, darling. It’s so early, is everything alright?” You threw on the best smile you could manage while willing yourself to shed no more tears. 

“Why are you crying?” he asked as he moved into your tent fully.

“Tears of pleasure.” you waved him off, doing your best to sound lustful.

“You’re a terrible liar, my sweet.” he said as he sat opposite from you but still giving you space. 

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “Why do you care anyways?” you cringed internally, that sounded harsher than you intended. 

Astarion’s eyes softened a bit, “Because I care for you.” he said honestly. 

“Because I’m your blood bag,” you scoffed. “Worry not, I’m well enough for you to feed so… get on with it I guess.” you said as you tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning in for him to chomp down on your pulse point. 

Yet you felt nothing but the cold night air. Your eyes found his after a moment of hesitation. “What?” you said.

“You are so much more than food.” he said, a guilty look on his face. Is that all you thought of him? Somebody using you? “Why do you sleep with them?” he asked suddenly, trying to connect the dots in his head.

Your eyes widened, “It’s none of your business.” you said, your voice wavering. “I like sex, so why not?” your eyes avoided his, afraid he would see the truth in them. 

“Terrible liar.” he whispered, his foot tapping against your knee trying to get your attention. 

“Because it makes it all hurt a little less!” you yelled, his consistent questioning pushing you over the edge. “Because it fills the fucking void somebody put inside me. They used me, they hurt me. So if I can be desired, even for a moment, I will.” you felt tears stream down your cheeks as Astarion watched you, his mouth slightly agape. “This horrible feeling sits inside me like tar. Black and oozing and there is nothing I can do to fix it. I sleep with them because I want to know I can still be desired if I cannot be loved.”

“Who said you cannot be loved?” he said, leaning forward to wipe a tear from your face with his thumb.

“I… I just can’t… nobody can love me after what they did to me. Taking my body, playing with it while I just laid there… frozen. I thought they loved me…” you mumbled, memories from your past flooding you. 

“I love you.” he said simply.

Your head whipped up to gaze at him, “You don’t even know what love is Astarion.” you turned away from him so he couldn’t see you cry. 

“On the contrary… I have seen lust. I did it for 200 years. But this ache I have inside me, the longing I have for you and only you. That, I believe, is love. And… I like to imagine you feel the same way.” Astarion put a hand on your shoulder, moving slowly when you initially flinched away. 

“How can you love me? Aren’t you disgusted?” you whimpered. You wanted to believe him so badly, but how could you? You were made to be used. 

Astarion shifted so he could see you as he tilted your quivering chin upwards. “For sleeping with others? Darling I have bedded thousands.” he rubbed your cheek reassuringly. 

“That’s different. You didn’t have a choice.” you said, your voice coming out strained.

“I would argue that you didn’t either. When someone violates you like that… I’ve seen it go two ways. You overindulge, or you isolate. Both are natural reactions. Yours was to try and find solace, penance in others. None of it is shameful… it’s just… how things are I suppose.” he said, struggling a bit to find the right words but you felt the connection he was trying to make. 

“Each of them took a little piece of my soul… I’m not sure how much is left of me to give.” you shuddered in a breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“I don’t want your soul… All I ask is your heart, in exchange for mine.” he smiled at you, moving to hold your hand while he cupped your cheek. You had never seen eyes with so much sincerity and kindness. 

“I… I’d like that.” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his for a moment before your eyes opened once again with worry. “Do we have to…” you motioned between the two of you and the bedroll.

“Not until you want to. Completely, freely.” he nodded at you.

“And if I never want to?” you asked cautiously.

“Then I will love you all the same.” he leaned in slightly. He could feel your breath on his lips but waited for you to close the gap. 

You kissed him softly. He could feel the fear and apprehension in your kiss. While you felt the patience and adoration in his.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello lovelies! Hope ya'll like this one as well. Two in one night? What a deal lol I really like this one. Is it a bit of a trauma dump? Yes but writing is how I get it out and Astarion would 10000% comfort me through any of it. We love a supportive king. What a guy. Anyways! - be safe everyone, see ya'll soon!

[aheathen-conceivably]

🎶 I ain't looking for a lie to believe, my own'll do me fine 🎶

Strangerville’s saloon was in full swing. Men who were worried about feeding their families or women scared their men may never come home from California finally had a place to drown their worries or lose them in the high of a shared laugh. Where illegality and excess had amplified the spirit of drink a decade before, now palpable relief and struggle had taken its place.

In between pouring a never ending stream of whiskey and beer, Josephine watched the woman across the bar. She had thought that outselling her would be easy. She had been dismissive, gruff, and even downright rude; and if there was one thing that Jo had learned in New Orleans, it was that she could sell anything with a suggestive glance better than the disdain she often really felt. 

Only this woman made no effort to hide the ribs and insults she seemed to lay out like easy jokes. She would swoop down to tables, seemingly calling each and every patron by name, laughing roughly and loudly before bringing them one beer after another. Part of it infuriated Josephine, but another part wouldn’t let her tear her eyes away from her every move.

She seemed comfortable running the place entirely alone, throwing Josephine a wink in between customers as though to say: I’m going to win, city girl. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

At the end of the night with the last drink served and the final stumbling patron seen to the door, Josephine and the woman sat at the bar, tallying their earnings. As Jo reached the end of her stack and set it on the counter, the woman was still counting. She finished with painfully slow fanfare and put the pile neatly beside Josephine’s. It was clearly and discernibly higher. “Well looks like we have a clear winner here, and we know what that means, don’t we?” 

Then she smiled in the same dismissive way that she had earlier that day, and moved her gaze to the stack of ones Jo had set down, “Not too shabby for a first night though. Most people in this town don’t trust a new face but you did better than I expected. And I’ll admit, the extra help was nice. A decade of sitting at home did nothing to temper these drunks, and I could use you around most nights.”

Jo straightened her spine and covered her eyes. Suddenly the job seemed like pity, the money nothing but a tether to a place she hated and people who had betrayed her. It wasn’t hers, and it certainly didn’t give her the sense of self or freedom she had expected to find. All the stacks told her was that she had lost. Lost to some tall and stocky woman at her own game in someone’s else’s bar in some fucking desert town she couldn’t even give a damn what the name was.

Her head swam and she started to separate from herself, to forget where she was or who she was. If she could feel her legs she would have stood to run, run to the edge of this town into the desert, away from this place and these people and all of these feelings…

“Jesus Christ, are you okay?” The words had come like static from a radio, from a voice she didn’t recognize or really care to please.

“What? I – I just,” Josephine stubbed out her cigarette straight on the bar as she gathered herself and turned to stand. Only she couldn’t, because she still couldn’t feel her legs or sense where she was, even as her pride and anger started to flood back to her flushed face. “I was just thinking on your offer. I’m afraid I can’t take it.”

The woman laughed, the sound shaking off the remaining clouds around Josephine’s head. “That sore of a loser, huh? Well that pride’ll earn their respect a lot faster than your pretty grins. Come back tomorrow night, we’ll go again. I’ll teach you a few names, see if we can tip the scales.”

Josephine looked up at her. By that point she could have moved to stand, walked back across town with her head held high and the secret of her loss hidden carefully away from the man waiting for her at home. Only there was no pity in the woman’s face, only a wry if good natured sense of superiority that Jo was more than familiar with from her own mirror; and up this close it was hard to deny that even with its hardened lines, there was a beauty to the woman’s face, so much so that Jo wanted to reach out to the hand extended to her even more.

As she did so the woman let her hand stay in Jo’s a moment longer than she expected. “Welcome aboard Miss Duplanchier. Now's as good a time as any to introduce myself. I’m Valcita. Valcita Grove. But you can call me Val.”

Then Jo realized that she was right. Her face was beautiful, the same way that the shadowless desert was beautiful in the full heat of the midday sun. Her heart beat faster as she imagined running into it again, not in fear this time, but in freedom, smiling as her world went up in flames behind her.

[humming-fly]

North Carolina Relief Masterlist

One of my close friends is currently living in North Carolina and took the time to put together this really nicely organized list of organizations currently taking donations after Hurricane Helene, and I thought it'd be nice to share it on tumblr as well since I know some folks like these kinds of organized lists! All links and descriptions come from her and her experiences with the orgs below. 👍

Foundation

The Community Foundation of WNC - Read no further if you want a catch-all, one stop donation spot for WNC long-term Helene response. CFWNC is a permanent pool of charitable capital for the 18 counties of Western North Carolina including the Qualla Boundary (land of the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians). They are an amazing source of consistent support to many WNC nonprofits via grant opportunities. They have financially supported so many of the non-profits I have encountered or worked with. Donate to the cause of your choice via CFWNC (including the Helene response specifically) here.

Food Security, Farm Support & More

Bounty & Soul (Swannanoa Valley, Black Mountain, and Asheville) - decade-old non-profit currently typically focused on health and food insecurity now working in partnership with World Central Kitchen, MANNA, Hearts with Hands, and many others to distribute food, hot meals, and supplies. They are also working to resume purchasing and distributing fresh produce from farmers in WNC who still have crops to harvest and sell. Donate to their disaster relief here.

Annie’s Culinary Garden - I often frequent this small but mighty Black Mountain restaurant, which is closely partnered with Bounty & Soul. Annie’s was already embedded in health and food justice work pre-Helene but the last 2 weeks, Annie and her team have been working around the clock (using a generator to power their restaurant) to provide free vegan, vegetarian, and other diet-specific hot meals to retirement homes, distribution hubs, and also to feed the staff and volunteers at these hubs. This has been a huge need expressed to me by community members because much of the food available at distribution sites is not able to be eaten by those requiring special diets. Donate to their effort here.

Haywood Christian Ministry (Waynesville) - WNC’s largest food pantry has partnered with MANNA (WNC's largest food bank?) and is distributing food on the ground and requesting donations to help with the emergency disaster response. They are also directly purchasing from WNC farms to distribute fresh foods for folks cooking bulk hot meals and for families who can cook at home. For info and to donate, go here. 

Food Connection(Asheville-based) - I first encountered this org at a food waste solutions summit and thought their concept was brilliant. They rescue high-quality, chef-prepared meals and deliver them to neighbors in need (often those who can’t afford to participate regularly in Asheville’s expensive foodie culture). I have since seen them out in Asheville and beyond to rural communities doing exactly what they do best and delivering delicious, no-cost hot meals to Helene victims. Donate to them here.

Foothills Food Hub (McDowell County) - McDowell was hit really hard and this hub is working to source water and shelf-stable goods to distribute. They will continue to feed vulnerable populations and to support farmers with direct purchasing and a reliable market. Requesting monetary donations, which can be made online here.

TRACTOR Food & Farms (Spruce Pine*, Mitchell County) - In another hard-hit county, this hub is also working, much like the Foothills Food Hub, on connecting local farmers with folks in a system of equitable healthy food access in rural communities. Donate to this local food hub here.

*Interesting aside: Spruce Pine and its quartz mines were extremely damaged by flooding and this threatens the global tech industry. This rural town is home to one of the world’s only sources of high-purity quartz. The mines are currently trying to re-open.

MANNA FoodBank (Asheville) - This very large organization is still doing what they do best and distributing food, water, and more, despite having their warehouse/headquarters were destroyed in the flooding along the Swannanoa River. Donate online here.

Farmer Support & Advocacy

Appalachian Sustainable Agriculture Project (ASAP) (WNC) - this wide-reaching farmer advocacy org is currently reestablishing communications with WNC farmers and getting aid to them. They also have healthy food programs that, once operating again, will serve tangentially in the relief effort. I have worked adjacent to this org for the last year and am a dogged cheerleader of them and their work. Donations can be made here.

Center for Environmental Farming Systems (Qualla Boundry and WNC) -  CEFS works closely with the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians, NC State, extension services and more to support food and farm initiatives across WNC. I previously worked adjacent to this org and was extremely impressed by their commitment and effectiveness. Donate (ideally to “Friends of CEFS” for more flexible funding) here. 

Tierra Fértil Coop (Hendersonville) - social and economic farmer cooperative formed by a group of Hispanic community members living in Henderson County that grows and provides culturally-specific foods but also has community programs to support the Latinx community in Henderson county. I have attended some of their educational events and have worked adjacent to them. I am ever impressed by their work. Donate to them by emailing tierrafertilcoophv@gmail.com.

Economic Justice & More

Pisgah Legal Services (all over WNC) - these folks do just about everything “life admin” for WNC's most vulnerable populations and have done so for over forty years. They provide pro bono civil legal aid, health insurance enrollment, and more. I have worked adjacent to them over the last year and could not be more impressed by their broad scope of bi-lingual legal work that maintains incredible efficiency and effectiveness. Donate to them here. 

Just Economics (WNC) - JE works on shaping the economic development of WNC in a way that benefits everyone and promotes a sustainable future. I have attended some of their workshops and found them to be powerfully educational. I am also grateful for their political advocacy for living wages for all in WNC. They are not directly working on the Helene response (as far as I know), but the road to recovery is long and their economic justice advocacy will be especially crucial as WNC rebuilds. Donate to JE here. 

BeLoved (Asheville) - Org working on improving the well-being and quality of life for individuals, families, and communities through our focus areas of Home, Health, Equity, and Opportunity. On-the-ground volunteers are currently collecting and distributing a wide array of supplies and BeLoved will continue to play a significant long-term role in housing and more. Donate to BeLoved here.

Health Services & Equity

Blue Ridge Health (WNC) - Blue Ridge Health is a federally qualified health center that is continuing to provide accessible & affordable medical care and mental health care to vulnerable populations (now including Helene victims) with their sites around the region and mobile clinics. Donate here.

Vecinos (WNC) - This rapidly growing org provides direct healthcare services to underserved, uninsured communities with a focus on WNC's farmworkers at their clinics and with mobile clinics on site at farms. Donate to their continuing services here. 

Asheville Buncombe Community Christian Ministry (Asheville based) - The ABCCM helps run and provide shelter in Asheville and is partnered with the Red Cross. Donations help pay for motel and food vouchers for local residents and long-term support for those displaced. A personal aside: ABCCM also has an awesome medical clinic serving uninsured folks and they were the only medical service I could find that would treat a tick born illness that I had when I first arrived in the US from Canada (I did not yet have health insurance). To donate to their Helene response, go here.

Schools & Youth

FernLeaf Community Charter School (Fletcher) - FernLeaf was partially destroyed by Helene (one of the school buildings was entirely lifted off of its foundation then dropped several feet away in a truly remarkable display of the power of water from a small nearby creek). Donate to FernLeaf here. 

United Way of Asheville and Buncombe County - The local United Way typically works on youth/child food security, educational support, and physical and mental health care services. The org is helping with immediate natural disaster response and long-term support for flood victims. Donations can be made online here.

Other

Blue Ridge Public Radio - obviously these NPR folks have been working around the clock to keep people informed in the old-fashioned way, over the airwaves. You can support them here.

[frvnkcastles]

I'd love something where the reader used to work at The Beef from the bear show, bur had to move to NYC and met Frank, she ends up feeding him the best Beef this side of the east coast and he instantly falls in love, then she makes him the Family Spaghetti and he's like "I wanna fuckin marry her" internally? Fluff?

But the reader is very much cooking out of stress as that's how she feels she can i guess win people over to stick around?

(I was the cunt in school on wedges day where I'd shout every one in my group wedges since otherwise I think they wouldn't stick around me,I wasn't smart enough for them but I paid for food.

I still do this with my baking business)

HONEY, DON’T YOU LEAVE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You and Frank bond over your cooking, but you can’t shake the feeling that that’s all he wants from you.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, language, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: Gahhhhh, I am so annoyed that I’m being so slow with requests but college is back in motion and it has NOT been a soft landing, I have been immediately flooded with things to do. On top of that I’ve just been really tired and unmotivated, but I’m trying my best to write at least a little every day! Anon, thank you so much for your patience. I don’t really do crossovers so it’s never specified where the reader worked before, but I hope you like it anyway! I’m sending you so much love <3

Frank fell in love with you quicker than he cared to admit. He had closed himself off from the possibility of finding someone new, not really interested in making connections of any kind, but you came and conquered his heart with immense ease.

It was complete luck, too. It wasn’t unusual for him to pay a visit to a diner for some food and coffee, but you definitely weren’t supposed to be there. You had a history of working in fairly successful restaurants, yet when you had moved to New York, you faced great difficulty with landing a job that you actually wanted. The places you thought were right on your level turned you down, but you needed money for rent, so you lowered your standards, and wound up working for a diner — the same one Frank stumbled into that night.

It had been mostly uneventful and quiet, and you were left alone with the responsibility of closing. There were no other customers except Frank, but he didn’t seem that open to conversation, so you stayed stationed behind the cash register.

And then, two armed men burst in, their faces concealed with ski masks as they held you at gunpoint. With shaky hands, you began to empty the register, but you didn’t have the time to hand over all the money when one of the guys was knocked out to the ground. You flinched, watching in shock and fear how your only customer beat up the other guy and wrangled the gun out of his hands only to whip him in the face with it. You didn’t know what to do, but it seemed he didn’t need your help — within a minute, both armed men were rushing out of the diner with their tails between their legs.

Stunned speechless, you stared at the tall, rugged man who remained. He caught his breath and then turned to you, his sharp features making you swallow. ”You okay, ma’am?” he grunted, his deep voice incredibly enchanting, and you managed a nod. He was about to turn and return to his seat but you found your voice and spoke up.

”Thank you. Let me make it up to you”, you uttered out, making him halt but the look he gave you was almost amused.

”You don’t owe me anythin’, ma’am”, he replied casually, but you weren’t budging.

”Well, I kinda do. Anyway, the food here is… not that great, so maybe you could let me cook for you? Um, we’re closed tomorrow so there’d be no one else here”, you explained, the words coming out of your mouth before your brain fully processed what you were promising him. You were really yearning to cook again, something other than eggs and bacon, and he had definitely earned it.

He eyed you up and down, weighing his options for a second before reluctantly nodding. ”Aight. If you insist”, he agreed, sparking a smile on your face as you nodded to confirm that you weren’t having it any other way. You told him what time to arrive, and as he returned to finish his sandwich, you couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The next day, you got to the diner early and started working on what you hoped would be a meal to remember. You were mostly excited, and at least cooking kept you busy, which meant you didn’t have the time to worry about being alone with the man. Although he had saved your life, it was hard not to be intimidated by him.

As soon as he arrived at the diner, though, he quickly proved to you that there was nothing to fear. He called you ma’am right up until you told him your name and insisted that there was no need to be formal, and when he introduced himself, he did it in a way that was undeniably charming — and polite. You had seen him around the diner enough to know that he wasn’t a chatty person, but as you brought out the food, he attempted to get to know you better and it made your heart race.

You maintained small-talk, but you couldn’t deny you were nervous to find out what he thought of the food. Once he dug in, though, his eyes immediately widened.

”Wow”, Frank blurted out, a little taken aback by the sheer deliciousness. ”Sweetheart, this is amazin’. Where’d you learn how to cook like this?” he inquired, far too curious to not ask.

With heat on your face, you smiled. ”Uh, well, cooking classes mostly. I used to work at a restaurant. Hopefully I will again some day soon. And a lot of practice at home, of course”, you explained, and nodding along your story, Frank divided his attention between the heavenly food and your equally enthralling voice.

”I bet you will. Your talents are wasted in this place”, he commented, making you chuckle softly.

He didn’t stop praising you throughout the meal, but he also asked follow-up questions, keen to learn everything about you. In return, he vaguely opened up about himself, though you could tell he was holding back a little.

That said, the time you spent in that diner over that meal was enough for him to get hooked on you. He kept stopping by for weeks until he finally got the nerve to ask you on a date, suggesting that you’d make dinner together. It hadn’t taken you long to start falling for him, either, so it was easy to agree to what you didn’t realize would bloom into a serious relationship.

Truthfully, you sort of skipped the casual phase. Frank could be an intense man when it came to relationships, even if he hadn’t really thought he would find himself in one. Nevertheless, he felt strongly about you early on, and your first date developed into constantly spending time at each other’s places and sharing a bed on most nights. He tried his best to impress you with his cooking, and while it certainly wasn’t awful, there was a lot you could teach him — and he received the help willingly, eager to listen to you and learn more about your number one passion.

The night that you cooked the spaghetti recipe that your family had followed for years, he was done for.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so captivated by you, and the food, he would have noticed the tension in your shoulders and the constant chewing on your bottom lip. You were quickly falling back into the bad habit of weighing your own worth based on your cooking, convinced that the moment you’d stop making all these elaborate meals for Frank, he would walk out on you. Your way with food was undoubtedly a perk of dating you, and right now, you were struggling to think of any other ones.

”I hope you like it”, you smiled nervously as you handed over the plate of spaghetti to Frank. He gave you an affectionate look and thanked you before giving the food a go, and in an instant, his heart soared.

The food was amazing, but so were you. You had so much talent in you, and when Frank looked up from the plate and met your gaze, he felt so much love in his heart. He admired you and everything you did, finding you so utterly beautiful and amazing and… God, he wanted to marry you.

He had to fight the urge to just announce it there and then, giving you a small smile. ”I’m speechless, sweetheart. You outdo yourself every time. I’m one lucky asshole”, he declared proudly, making you smile but you couldn’t hide the anxiety in your eyes. Would he consider himself lucky if you didn’t cook for him tomorrow?

He noticed the hesitation on your face, though. ”Hey, darlin’. Somethin’ wrong?” he asked with worry evident in his voice, and you rushed to wave it off.

”I’m okay. I’m glad you like it, baby”, you promised, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Only a week later, the issue resurfaced. You came down with the flu and you were rendered useless for a couple of days, giving you a great deal of stress. Frank was all over you, providing you with medication as well as something to drink and eat — and he was not letting you do a thing by yourself. You were his patient to care for and any attempt to get up from the couch was shot down within seconds.

Once his attention faltered from you and he disappeared in the bedroom to find you a cozy sweater, you made your way to the kitchen. Sniffling and aching all over, you began taking out pots and ingredients, and the noise immediately alerted Frank.

”Nah, nah, sweetheart, what’d I tell ya? You ain’t doin’ a thing except rest tonight. You’re sick and you need to just lay down, aight?” he reminded with a firm tone, his hands coming to cover yours in an attempt to stop you.

Reluctantly, you admitted defeat but it didn’t take long for the frustrated, anxious tears to fill your eyes. Frank’s stern expression fell and he tilted his head down at you, concern taking over.

”Hey, hey, hey. I know it sucks but you need to listen to your body right now”, he sighed, trying to understand what was making you cry. You covered your face with one hand as the tears streamed down your cheeks, and with his heart breaking, Frank hauled you into his arms, shushing you softly while wrapping you in a tight embrace.

”I just don’t want you to leave me”, you admitted faintly, and right away, Frank’s eyebrows knitted together and he pulled back to give you a confused look.

”Sweetheart, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Why would you say that?” he frowned, genuinely surprised by your confession.

With a sniffle, you shrugged. ”You love my cooking. And I guess it’s the main reason you’re with me. So, if I stop cooking… why would you stay?” you explained the logic that you had built inside your own head. But Frank didn’t agree with you, and the fond chuckle that he huffed at you was enough to imply as much.

”Baby, I do love your cooking, but it definitely ain’t the main reason I’m with you. I love you, hear me? I’m with you ’cause you’re so fuckin’ kind and understanding and real supportive. And you make me so goddamn happy. I’d still be just as in love if you stopped cooking for good, yeah? It’s great but it ain’t why I adore you so much”, he countered while lifting one hand up to your jaw and tipping it so you could meet his eye. He looked completely serious, and you really wanted to believe him.

”You mean that?” you asked carefully, and he wasted no time in nodding to confirm.

”I fuckin’ mean it. I, uh… I kinda wanna spend the rest of my life with ya”, he cleared his throat, and astonished to hear that, your eyes flew wide open and a wide smile curled your lips up high.

”Frankie… I want that, too”, you breathed out, earning a tender look from him. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, the soft feeling of his lips making your heart do somersaults.

”Hey, I’mma take over the cookin’ responsibilities this week. You just get cozy on the couch and I’ll whip somethin’ up for us, yeah?” he decided, and you shot him a teasing grin.

”Sure you can handle it?” you wondered, taunting him, and he responded with a mixture of a laugh and a scoff.

”My girl’s a comedian now, huh? Get outta here”, he grumbled, gently patting your ass to encourage you towards the couch.

He may not have been as good of a cook as you were, but he made an effort and stayed true to his promise, not letting you anywhere the kitchen until you were feeling much better. And even then, he insisted on helping or occasionally being in charge, just to show you that you were a team and you didn’t owe him anything.

[gamma-rae-bursts]

Courtroom Obsession pt.1

y/n is an ADA assigned to Special Victims Unit. She’s been dating Olivia Benson for the past couple of months and despite their crazy workload things have been going great between them. This is until y/n’s office is flooded with mystery flower deliveries that don’t seem to stop.

Pairing: Olivia Benson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: y/n has a stalker, it's mild in this one tho, lil makeout sesh.

Genre: Mostly Fluff, will lead to angst.

Word Count: 1400+

A/N: Would you look at that, I finally wrote something! This is a part 1 of what will probably be a 2/3 part mini series. Covers a square of my bingo.

It started with flowers. You didn’t think much of it, after all being an attorney meant that sometimes you would receive gifts from grateful families for getting a conviction. But the flowers kept coming throughout the week, all kinds of bouquets bound together with ribbons, sometimes even placed in white twined baskets, with no notes attached. You looked at the colourful petals displayed in your office, the white lilies perfectly complimenting the vibrant colours of tulips and irises. The types of flowers varied in each of the bouquets, but it was never roses. You hated roses. 

After a few days you started thinking it was your girlfriends doing, who else would have known this small rose-hating side of you. 

When you finished work on a Friday evening, you headed straight to Olivia’s apartment, hopeful to finally get a free weekend after closing multiple cases during the previous week. Considering the field both of you were working in and the recent increase in cases you’ve barely seen each other outside of the precinct for the past couple of weeks. You’ve only been dating for a few months, although things were official between the two of you, you opted to keep the relationship private from work. You aimed for your professional relationship to remain unchanged and as far as you were aware it was working. After all the last thing either of you have wanted was to become the centre of attention of the 16th precinct and 1 Hogan Place. 

The uber ride, although long, was very peaceful. You looked out the window at the streets of New York City that were beginning to fill with the darkness of dusk, taking in the sight of people rushing down the streets, probably hurrying to their homes before the city was consumed by darkness. After what felt like eternity you finally arrived at your destination, thanking the driver and handing him the cash, with a few extra notes as a thank you for not bothering you too much during the ride. 

You used the key Olivia gave you just a few weeks earlier to open the apartment door, just as you entered the space you smelled the array of scents of what you presumed to be Olivia’s cooking, wafting through the air, filling the space with warmth. You smiled to yourself while taking your shoes off, before following the aromas deeper into the apartment.

Olivia was standing in the kitchen, fully consumed by preparing on of your shared comfort meals and as it turned out, one of her specialties. You always begged her to teach you how to make the signature mac and cheese, but she always joked that if she let you in on the secret you wouldn’t need her anymore, hence keeping the recipe hidden away from you.

 You took in the sight of her, she was wearing a checked apron on top of her comfy clothes, her hair was in a half-up-half-down style, with a little bun on top back of her head. The domesticity of it almost melting your heart.

“You’re staring, again.” she said softly as she turned around to face you, with a warm smile on her face.

“I can’t help it; you just look really cute.” you laughed, as you kept shamelessly staring at your girlfriend. 

“Here, try this.” the detective reached out to you with a forkful of the broccoli she roasted to go with the dish, always adamant to up your vegetable intake. 

 You gratefully accepted the food, opening your mouth and letting Olivia feed you. You practically moaned at the tease of the perfectly roasted broccoli, making her smile. “This is so good.” you added when you finished chewing the food.

“I’m glad you like it my love” she whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead before getting back to cooking. 

You watched Olivia gracefully move around the kitchen for a little longer, before wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on the back of her shoulder. She hummed and gently leaned into your embrace, happy to finally get to spend some time with you and you had no plans on letting her go now. 

The two of you stayed like this for a while, Olivia effortlessly finishing grating the additional cheese and you only restricting her movements a little bit.

“You can stop hugging me now, you know?” she laughed while you only tightened the grip you had around her.

“No, I don’t think I can” you giggled and placed a kiss in the crook of her neck. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too sweet girl.” She turned around in your arms to face you, cupping your cheek she placed a soft kiss on your lips. One of your hands moved from her waist to the back of her head deepening the kiss. Her lips moved against yours in perfect harmony, you pulled her closer to you, desperate for the contact as she traced your bottom lip with her tongue, making you smile into the kiss. She reluctantly pulled away “If you keep this up the dinner is gonna get burned”  

You giggled and placed one last peck on her lips. “You know I wouldn’t mind, I’m sure it would still be better than that disaster of a carbonara I made before”

“It wasn’t that bad” she laughed before getting back to the task she was occupied with before you successfully distracted her.

“Oh really? How about I make it again this weekend then?” you asked raising your brow at the detective. The carbonara was indeed that bad and both of you were fully aware of it.

“Okay maybe I’ll stay on the food duty for now, but you can watch!” you laughed at her statement, happy with the offer as you didn’t want to risk poisoning your girlfriend with your cooking.

You moved around the kitchen in silence, while Olivia continued working on finishing the meal, when everything was either fully out of the oven or with only a few more minutes left to go you finally broke the silence in the room.

“Thank you for the flowers by the way.” you whispered looking at her, a warm smile spread across your face. “they’re beautiful.”

“What flowers?” she questioned, not having a clue what you were referring to.

“The ones that were coming into my office the whole week?” you raised your brow, now also confused. “I assumed they were from you since there was no notes and none of the bouquets had roses in them.”

“No, they weren’t from me but now I wish they were.” she looked at you, a slight glimpse of worry in her eyes. “Is there someone I should be concerned about?”

“If by that you mean whether there is some rookie detective or ADA waving their eyelashes at me then absolutely not” you assured her, brushing her through her hair with the tips of your fingers. “I’m sure they were from the families from previous cases, you know they like to show their appreciation for getting the perps convicted.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” she said letting out a deep sigh.

“Hey, no need to get worried.” you gently cupped her cheek as you looked into her eyes. “I’m a big girl I can take care of myself.”

“I know you are.” she ducked her head down a little “But you are also my girl, so I am going to get worried regardless.” Her hand softly rubbed your back as she burried her face in the crook of your neck.

The rest of the evening as well as the following days passed and before you knew it you were getting ready to return to the office on a Monday morning. You and Olivia slept in that day so both of you hurried to get ready and rushed out of the apartment, taking your respective rides to your workplaces.

When you entered your office, a white basket filled with tulips, lilies and dahlias as well as small strands of forget me nots was nestled in the middle of your desk. You examined your surroundings before examining the basket itself. It looked like every other one you received the previous week, although this time it came with a small envelope attached to it. You opened it, finding a rather simple card inside, with a handwritten note. 

“Can’t wait to see you again, V.”

***

Taglist: @bratty-subby-girly @ashbones

Join my taglist here, or DM me to be added <3

[sloptimustoptimus]

Energon Megatron X Reader

NSFW 18+ ONLY

LAST SURVIVOR

__________________________

You're the last one left. The Decepticons have taken ocean city and Megatron has chosen to keep you alive to reward himself for his hard work.

__________________________

Head pounding, vision blurry, you came to in the autobot control room in ocean city; the cold metal of the floor a stark contrast to your building anxiety as your eyes darted around the room. It started flooding back to you when you noticed SnowCat and Demolisher in the corner giggling at you lying defenceless with your hands tied: the Decepticons had taken the city, Optimus was off-world with most of the autobots leaving you with a small crew, none of whom you could see in the room with you.

The live feed which was broadcast from the large screen that sat at the front wall of the room was still running, maybe the Autobots were on the way to get you out of this if they could see the situation unfolding wherever they were.

They weren’t able to help you right now though, as you could hear heavy footfall approaching the control room. Megatron.

The Decepticons in the room quickly straightened up as their leader came into view, he was imposing, towering blue frame dwarfing his subordinates and glaring yellow optics darting between Demolisher and Snowcat, prompting them to leave. You began to strain against the wire holding your hands together, a lump forming in your throat as you imagined what was coming to you. Tears began to sting in your eyes knowing you would be meeting your end today.

“Now, now, human. I’m not going to extinguish you.” He boomed from the control panel, staring you down, “I only require something from you. And who knows, if you comply I might just let you walk free…” his tone was sickly sweet, he was clearly enjoying the suspense he was creating.

“I don't have any information for you, Megatron” You spat, assuming the Decepticon leader was after access codes or autobot intelligence, “you may as well kill me now and get it over with” defeated, you stopped fighting your restraints, only hoping the pain you were going to endure would be quick. Approaching you slowly, Megatron let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh no no no, small thing, that's not what I want at all! You see, I’ve taken my time extracting everything I need from your Autobot friends, they were ever so useful”. He stopped as close to you as he could be without having crushed you under him, his optics dark, observing you intently. Looking around in the hopes you would see the rest of your crew, Megatron began to laugh again, “Don’t bother. They can’t help you now”.

Noticing a glint in his gold optics, your heart sank, realising your friends had been extinguished, you were all alone at Megatron’s mercy… and if you weren’t mistaken, he was after something much more personal than information.

“Please, Megatron, don’t do this, you’ll kill me. You know it'll kill me-” Begging for a more dignified death than being split open by a Cybertronian’s spike, using your legs to push yourself away from him.

“Stupid creature, is that what the autobots have told you? They're classless, they interface like animals, but me?” he trailed off, velvet voice hanging in the air as if he were considering ways to bring you round before resorting to force, “I promise you’ll survive. You may even enjoy yourself-”

“Enjoy myself!? After you’ve just decimated our home?” anger taking you over, heat rising to your cheeks as you berated him.

Cutting you off, Megatron lifted you off the cold ground, his large servos holding your body painfully tight as you squirmed in his grip. Your eyes widened as you realised what was happening: Megatron was striding towards the live feed’s main camera stopping mere feet away from it. He knew full well that every autobot on or off world had access to the feed 24/7, too and they were all about to bear witness to what you would be reduced to.

Unable to resist with your hands tied, Megatron made quick work of removing your clothes, ripping the fabric as to ensure he wouldn't have to set you loose. He held you up in front of the screen, working one warming servo down the front of your body, exploring every inch with hard grabs and pinches, making you wince, until he got down to your upper thighs. He took harsh handfuls of the soft skin, the pain making you yelp and hiss, giving him exactly what he wanted.

Before you could process the heat flushing your cheeks, megatron had brought a large finger to your entrance, teasing at it, feeling how wet you were already under his rigorous touch. Bringing his mouth down to your ear, he let out a low hum, almost as if to let you know you were pleasing him. “You know our dearest viewers can see what a mess you're making for me already?” He laughed into the question, watching the embarrassment of knowing that someone was watching on your face morph into excitement and back again.

“Please-” Your breaths already short, “Just put it in”

“How impatient!” Megatron’s tone was mocking, and it was working for you “but if you insist, it only means I can take you sooner”

With that he finally began to slide his forefinger into you, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.

You threw your head back, giving in to the feeling. Besides, there was nothing you could do about it. Seeing this, Megatron increased his pace to try and get even more of a reaction out of you, your moans only just covering the quiet hiss of him releasing his spike.

“Such a good girl,” he snickered “I never would have guessed you’d be so easy to break”

Praising your cooperation to the live feed, who could see everything from your eyes rolling to the puddle forming in megatron’s palm, he decided to let you enjoy yourself for a little longer, his sick degradation bringing you closer and closer until you feel yourself begin to finish on his hand, breathing shallow and legs quivering.

“Oh is that good? Hm?” He slowed his movements, but you could only let out an affirmative groan in response. “I asked you a question, human. How dare you deny me an answer.” There was genuine annoyance rising in his voice, so you mustered up an answer for him as not to cut your enjoyment (or life) short “y- yes… so… so good”.

“That wasn't so difficult now, was it?” Megatron’s optics shifted between your shaking form and the screen as if to acknowledge whoever sat watching on the other end of the feed.

Retracting his finger from inside you, he lowered you down ever so slightly. You jolted in surprise at feeling his spike fully pressurised beneath you, slick with transfluid already. Without so much as a grunt, Megatron began to work his way into you with an excruciatingly gradual pace, stretching you slowly around him and making you scream with both pain and want. It felt so good despite the agony, your wails now filling the room entirely as he ran out of space inside you. Barely half of him fit into your tight hole, but he didnt seem perturbed at all, he simply moved his grip to your thighs, your knees now spread, level with your chest.

You were utterly helpless, sitting on Megatron’s spike, screaming. All while under the watchful eye of every autobot crew with access to the signal.

His movements were relentless and calculated, hitting you at the perfect angle with every thrust of his hips, he seemed not to tire at all from the exertion which led you to wonder how long this was going to go on for exactly… Hours? Days, even? Megatron’s moans are low, filled with want as he begins leaving bites up and down your delicate neck, the pain only serving to amplify the sensation of his spike inside you.

“Oh how pathetic, it seems you really will let me do anything to you so long as you get your little hole fucked” Megatron was now musing to himself between guttural sounds of appreciation, getting lost in the sensation of such a tight body.

Snapping the both of you back to reality was a loud notification on the control panel. Someone was watching for sure now. Embarrassment flooding your body, it only drove you closer to finishing once more as your captor leaned forward to dismiss the message. As he does, one servo leaves your thigh dangling, moving to your throat after the control panel.

“‘how does it feel to have an audience like this? Everyone knows how little it takes to use you like this, and I bet they will the moment they get the chance”

With that you released again, gushing onto Megatron's spike and the floor below and leaving a clear puddle beneath you both. The angle he had you held at meant you had definitely splashed the main lens of the camera, not that he cared now. The sight of you so undone on his huge spike sent him feral, holding you flush to his torso with one clenching servo, and supporting himself on the control panel with another, your legs swinging with every thrust as he started twitching inside you, ready to finish himself. Megatron’s moans now matched your own as he drew closer to his overload, growling into the nape of your neck as he gripped your small body harder. And harder.

“You're going to take it, human,” He sounded desperate, “All. Of. It.” his words punctuated by the movement of his hips, taking the breath out of your lungs as he coated your walls with his transfluid, warm and thick, too much for your body to hold.

“Yeeeeeeeeees,” he groaned, the tension in his giant body dissolving with every slowing thrust. Your eyes trailing down to your own thighs, now covered in his release which was dripping into your own on the floor.

Panting and shaking you look once again at the feed monitor, entirely spent, at least you could go free now, maybe find a way to convince the autobots you hated every second of it despite the flush of tired bliss that washed over your skin and every sound you made as he was still deep inside you.

Your hands still bound, you struggled to move as your aching legs begged for support but Megatron seems to notice this; lifting you slowly off of his emptied spike, causing more of his transfluid to splash on to the metal flooring, the sound echoing throughout the empty room.

“Is..” you panted, “is it over Megatron?”

“Oh you silly thing, I’ve barely begun to have my fun with you”

__________________________

This is a repost from my AO3 and people seemed to like it over there, so let me know what yall think!

Part 2 below!

Edit: doing some drawing inspired by thic fic so stick around hehehe

[lisenberry]

Blend In

Suggestive/Explicit Language, Mystery 141 x F!Reader.

MDNI!

1111k words (heavy on the -ish)

For @the-californicationist Nameless Challenge!

Congrats on 500K words, Cali!!

Put your guess in the comments as to who you think it is!

You had no idea why you’d been chosen for this assignment, but you were not going to argue.  Certainly not with him.

Keeping any doubts to yourself, you checked the mirror in the bathroom one last time before exiting into the hotel room you shared with your teammate.  Well, not your teammate yet, but if all went well, your fingers were crossed for a spot on his elite task force. 

“What do you think, sir?”

As a mere corporal, just about everyone had a higher rank than you.  There was the distinguished Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish.  Big (huge) shoes to fill, but you were ready to prove yourself.

“It’ll…do,” he muttered, turning his head quickly towards the surveillance equipment set up on the nearby desk.  “And don’t call me that.  We’re undercover, remember?” 

“Do I get a code name or something?  You all have badass nicknames, and I’m just...the new girl.”  You shrugged your shoulders and tried not to fuss over the plunging depth of your neckline that barely covered your pushed-up boobs, or the uncomfortable way the fabric hugged your hips.

“No, New Girl is the new girl.  You’re—Ah, fuck.  Here we go.  Time to get out there.”  He picked up something on the camera feed of the hotel’s ballroom and pointed to it with his finger.  “Target’s moving.”

“Who picked this dress?  I thought I was supposed to blend in.  It’s obscene for a wedding.”

“Not for an oligarch’s wedding.  Tits up, back straight, and do your job.”  He gave you one last look over, dragging his gaze up to meet yours, finally, before giving you an encouraging nod.

“Aye, aye.  Sir.”  You couldn’t help but add the last with a bold smirk.  Maybe it was the dress, or the mission, or the unexpected glint in his eye, but you had a good feeling about this.

********

You’d been gone for only ten minutes, and he was already doubting every aspect of this assignment.  As the only fluent Russian speaker who didn’t scream special forces in the ranks, you’d been the easy choice.  But you were also soft around the edges, and sweet as hell, with a smile and an inner kindness that would lower anyone’s defenses. 

What the fuck you were doing in the military, or how you’d made it this far, he had yet to figure out.

He’d only agreed to this at all because the stakes were low, as was the risk of danger.  All you needed was a cigarette butt or a discarded champagne glass.   A piece of cutlery left behind on a tray.  Even just a partial fingerprint would be enough for Laswell to make a positive ID.

He was not prepared for you to strike up a conversation with the third most lethal psychopath on the watch list, or let him put his hand on your ass and squeeze you close to his hips as he whispered suggestively in your ear. 

“Careful, sweetling,” your commanding officer gritted low into his radio.  The comms device in your ear was undetectable, but he didn’t want to startle you or alert the target that you were in contact with someone.

It could also pick up your conversation, not that he understood any of what you were saying.   It seemed to be mostly flirty banter and coy laughter.  The man was obviously trying to get in you back to his room.

He didn’t know much Russian, but he knew enough about men’s appetites to get the idea.  He’d had his own thoughts, just the good sense not to say them out loud.

And he could not believe what he was seeing on the camera.  A sudden, sinking flood of anxiety made him jump in his chair and clench his fists at the stress.  You were going with the man, following him as he escorted you out somewhere beyond the surveillance feed.

“Do not leave that ballroom.  I can’t track you out there.  Get back.  Abort!”

He knew you could hear him, but you weren’t following orders.  Being ignored was most certainly the root of his blinding rage, not his concern for your safety.  Or the hungry way the bastard had looked at you in the dress he’d handpicked himself for the way the color made your skin practically glow. 

The cut and size may have been a miscalculation, he admitted to himself, as he checked the clip in his handgun and hurried toward the door.   

“Fucking hell.  You’re going to get yourself killed, and if you don’t, then I’ll do it myself.  When I get my bloody hands on you, Cupcake, I swear—”

“Cupcake?  That’s the best you can do?”  You stood on the other side of the door, with your hands on your hips as he pulled it open, with a fierceness you’d only heard about from other recruits.

Suddenly directed at you, it was worse than you’d imagined.  He looked ready for war as his words caught in his throat. 

“There you are.  You’re alright?”

“I got his prints on my purse, his DNA on my tits, and a retina scan on my phone.  And his phone, for shits and giggles.”  You quickly held up your loot for his inspection, before he could catch his breath long enough to lecture you on your recklessness.

He swiped a big hand along his mouth for composure, but he still looked like he wanted to kill something.  Mostly you.

“DNA?”  His eyes darkened quickly, somehow even more than before, as he looked from your face to your aforementioned tits.

“Saliva, big guy.  I’m committed, but not that committed.  Calm down.”  But he didn’t of course, because you’d never actually seen him relaxed.  At least not around you. 

You’d heard stories that he was a generally likable bloke once you got to know him.  Earned his trust.  Maybe someday you would get to see that side of him.  From the looks of it, this wasn’t it.

“Your country thanks you for your service.”  He deadpanned, not appreciating your snark.  

“What about you, sir?  Did I make the team?”  You shifted on your heels hopefully, still brimming with energy from knocking out a man twice your size, watching him piss himself, and staging the scene to look like he’d passed out on his own.

“I’ll put in a request to my commanding officer as soon as we get back.” 

“Really?”  You stifled the urge to hug him in your excitement.

“No.  You’re never allowed to leave the base again.”

You weren’t deterred as you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue behind his back.  You’d wear him down.  One way or another.

[mikedfaist]

GIVE US MORE SIGHTINGS PLS THEY R WAY TOO CUTE! ps ily

hiii ily too bb -- also here is a little social media adaptation of sightings, and i will def be doing more, so stay tuned (but not tonight because it's 11:30 and im an adult with work in the morning)

Back during lockdown in 2020, she was live on Instagram answering questions – whilst also scuffling through the trenches of her own boredom in Ohio – when her attention is torn to the other side of the room by the sound of the door opening, and her phone lowers slightly.

The voice is unrecognizable, and you can’t exactly see him except for his shadow on the adjacent wall. Fans who had been screenrecording were able to slow the audio, and behold, he asks her if she wants an omelette. She covers her mouth suppressing a laugh, but she nods.

“Sure, yeah—also, I’m live right now.” Merely a whisper, but fans decipher it easily. There’s no legible response back, but the door audibly closes, and she readjusts her phone so she’s back in frame. “Sorry.” She snorts. “Breakfast.”

A little while later, there’s a light knock on the door, and once again, the phone falls to her lap as she welcomes him in. He doesn’t say a word time time, likely mouthing a “sorry” and quietly sneaking back out of the room. She continues the live eating her omelette, and dodging the reoccurring question flooding her feed: “WHO IS THAT?”

“WHO’S THE GUY?”

“BOYFRIEND?”

Around that time there was a rumor she had been spotted at a park in Columbus with a mystery guy and dog, but it quickly died off. What would she even be doing there? The dating rumors wouldn’t start until the next year, but that’s when fans would circle back to Mike and spot something funny in a livestream of his own. During the Broadway Jackbox stream in May of that year, you can spot the quick flash of what can only be described as her, make the quickest appearance in the background, and quickly disappear. Even screenshots couldn’t help the most detective fans.

“He’s literally talking to someone off camera—SHOW YOURSELF.”

“That looks just like her—she has the same sweatshirt.”

What solidified it just a little more was at the 18:48 minute mark where you can hear her laugh.

And also, at the very beginning of the livestream, before they even begin with the game, Andrew jokes about how he was wanting to get her on the stream, because she is a Tony winner – and the youngest Tony winner at that – and Alex makes a comment about how it would cost too much money to get her to join, and Mike nods, suppressing a smile. At the time, Alex was the only one in that group who knew about her relationship with Mike, and that she was actually there sat next to him hearing the entire conversation.

[mothmantoaflame]

Prompt: You’re bad for me

Word count: 709

Characters/pairing: Steddie

Its intoxicating taste floods his mouth warm and sweet and so rich he can't get enough of it letting it fill his every sense. Nothing else matters right now except for drinking his fill. The slow steady rhythm of Steve’s heart is the only noise he can hear as he drinks thump, thump, thump, it’s so calming putting Eddie into a strange trance that he hardly hears the soft gasping

“Eddie.” That leaves Steve’s lips in fact he’s so focused that his first warning something is worrying is when Steve’s heart beat starts to slow down and the man leaning against him sags forward all of his weight suddenly on Eddie, who’s eyes snap open in alarm. He looks at Steve pale and sweaty struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Fuck.” He whispers, pushing his mouth away from Steve’s neck with a great deal of difficulty, he didn’t want to hurt Steve.

“Hey Stevie, wake up.” Eddie pats the other man’s cheek softly, relief flooding his body as soft brown eyes flutter open, the pupils blown wide and a small smile spreads across his face.

“Hey.” Steve slurs lifting his arm towards Eddie only for it to fall like it's too heavy for him to move.

“I’m tired.” He adds closing his eyes again

“I know Sweetheart but let’s get you to bed first?” Eddie coos softly at his boyfriend, relief making way for guilt he couldn’t keep doing this. Steve tasted too good for him to have any control over his feeds. Maybe he shouldn’t even be around the other man just to be safe.

A finger pressing between his eyebrows startles him out of his thoughts.

“You're thinking too loud.” Steve tells him leaning forward to press a kiss to his stil bloody lips that makes Eddie smile a little he’s a little worried that the blood thing doesn’t gross Steve out but he lets it go.

“Sorry.” He mumbles getting up off the couch and holding his hand out to Steve who stands on wobbly legs nearly falling straight onto the floor if it weren’t for Eddie's quick reflexes.

With a considerable amount of difficulty and team work mostly from Eddie the pair makes it upstairs and doesn’t even bother trying to get Steve to change out of his jeans when the man flops face down onto the bed and snuggles into Eddie pillow with a quiet happy hum.

Staring down at his slowly rising and falling body Eddie waits until he’s certain Steve is asleep before climbing into bed beside him shifting him around so he’s lying on his side of the bed. Pulling the duvet over both of them he lays down staring at Steve’s peaceful face.

“You’re so bad for me steve.” He whispers, reaching forward to brush a strand of hair that’s fallen into his face.

“You make me feel so out of control I can’t even think .” He continues “I’m scared I’m going to hurt you one day and I couldn’t live with myself if I did.” His eyes fall shut as he tries to hold back the tears quickly building in his eyes at just the idea of that.

“You won’t.” Steve slurs back in what Eddie thinks is meant to be a whisper but is actually quite loud. Opening his wrt eyes Eddie meets Steve, drooping brown ones so wide and full of trust.

“You don’t know that.” Eddie protests

“Yes I do.” Steve retorts, nodding his head ever so slightly “because I know you and you are a good person.” He tells him and as Eddie open his mouth to protest Steve’s hand dart forward one finger pressing against his lips as Steve says

“Shhhhh. Sleep time now.” Steve tells him, shuffling so he can tuck his head under Eddie's chin and wrap his arms around his waist, pressing his warm body as close as physically possible.

Eddie lays there for a few moments before wrapping his own arms around Steve and burying his head in Steve’s hair he doesn’t know how Steve can have this much faith in him but he’ll try to believe him he thinks as his body grows heavy and sleep reaches for him dragging him down into the peaceful waters of his dreams.