#I love this little family of psychos

[lxcke]

@killerlittlerejects: The Master Post

As you all know, I love to sit back and watch things unfold before bringing up an opinion. I don't really talk a lot, but when I do, there's usually something very serious going on. Well, today's the day I air out all that dirty laundry @killerlittlerejects has been desperately trying to keep under wraps. KLR, you've got multiple GROUPS of victims spanning back entire years, and they've all got a lot to say about you, girlie. I know what you did, and I'd love to share with the class your hypocrisy, lies, and long history of bullying.

After hours of research and conversations with your various victims, it's clear you have a pattern:

You catch wind of a target when they say something you don’t like.

Proceed to make it your entire personality for months to years at a time.

Shitpost, stalk, harass, and threaten this target completely out of left field.

Bask in the attention until your victim catches onto what you’re doing.

Get called out and play the perfect little angel victim against all the allegations.

Block block block, ignore, deflect, and/or fandom-hop to the next clean slate.

Repeat.

I don't tread lightly with my words when I tell you that this chick is psychotic. She's been caught stalking, with not two, not three, not four, but SEVEN known alt accounts. My team has had to sit down as a group and block a total of sixteen other related accounts to this person in an attempt to get her and the people associated with her fully off our back, and we're still not sure if that's all of them. Her cyberstalking habit has gotten to the point of police reports being filed on her. Twice.

This chick has pushed people into getting the police involved.

So, for one, harassing someone over something as simple as writing, attempting to stir up a little hate group against one of the biggest Cluster B artists on Tumblr, is scummy and comes off like you are clout farming. You've gone from what I thought was a bad case of keyboard-warrioring to one of the vilest attention whores I've ever been forced to witness beg on this platform.

You thought you could get away with trash-talking a man who has openly stated he has a disorder that affects how he communicates, who has openly said he uses his art as a coping mechanism, and who has openly made it clear he creates for those without a voice in the ASPD community. To me, and to many others, it looks like textbook middle-school bullying. You clocked him as an easy target, someone you thought you could overpower, banking on him either staying silent or slipping up just enough to hand you more ammo.

You thought. Bitch.

I've made other posts about this. Much more civil posts. Much more genuine attempts to connect and level with you, but you're just not getting the hint. There are way more people than you know of who will defend this good man with everything they have because he has done them nothing but kindness. You want to sit here and police everything Anton does when you don't even know him, nor have made efforts to, all because you need a punching bag. Every time he so much as breathes wrong, you got something to say, and I'm so fucking over it.

It’s honestly pathetic how you refused to just block the guy like a normal person. Instead, you lurk like some bargain-bin PI, desperate to dig up more dirt to whine about. It’s also incredibly suspicious to me that both Anton’s and my accounts went under a mass report review out of nowhere after nothing but complete normalcy, and not even twelve hours later, you're back at it after MONTHS of supposed radio silence on our end. I genuinely thought we were good up until now. You don’t “get dragged into drama” like you love to bitch about, you light the match and dive headfirst into the gasoline, then cry that it burns. You’ve spent every waking moment trying to paint yourself as some pure little victim while you stir shit behind the scenes. Now that the truth's out? You're flailing and mass-blocking like that’s going to save you. It's always your move: deny, deflect, block, repeat, a predictable little meltdown from someone who thought they’d never get called out by more than just those involved in your little game.

I’m not gonna name names, dox, threaten, or send people after you, because I’m not like you. I was nice to you, dude, but I’m not going to continue and let my team grovel at you and your circle’s feet and beg for forgiveness. These kinds of serious accusations from troves and troves of people, especially since their stories all line up with ours, really makes me wonder…

Anton hasn’t done shit to you or anyone else, and frankly, I’m fed up with your bitch ass tone, instigating other creators in the fandom to come up with insane rumors and accusations, and acting like you know the motherfucker’s “dark secrets” when all of you and your flying monkeys are completely clueless. None of you want to take any of the WOMEN in his circle seriously, blatantly ignoring what we’ve all had to say in favor of your self-righteous circle jerk. I’m not an angry person. I don’t normally do this. I’ve never even been involved with internet drama like this in my entire internet career, but you. You’re on a lot of people’s shitlist. YOU KINDS OF PEOPLE ARE THE REASON I LEFT THE FANDOM YEARS AGO. This is nothing new to me!

So, let me just… go through some of the shit you’ve been spewing here.

Everything you’ve posted reads like a tantrum wrapped in fake concern?? If you’re “scared” to post and need to open with a “no harassment” disclaimer, it’s obviously just drama you’re trying to dress up as activism. You complain Anton makes people “walk on eggshells,” but really, he just has standards and refuses to turn his project into your Tumblr fanfic fantasy land. You want to sit there and claim “oh that’s not the case and they’re bad boys!!!” but then get pissed when they become too disturbing for your taste. You’re mad that he actually has a backbone, not that he's some fandom dictator. Claiming he “shames” anything that doesn’t fit his vision? Of course he does… it’s HIS project. It’s HIS blog. It’s HIS space, and you are actively stepping into his online space and then crying about it??

Anton isn’t responsible for memorizing every bad Wattpad rewrite you cling to like scripture. Calling him a hypocrite for using shock value when he’s actually writing horror and not some pity party is insane; using shock to unsettle is what real horror authors do. You just can’t tell the difference because your taste was formed by creepypasta TikToks and 2010 dance AMVs. You even admit the fandom was never realistic, yet you’re mad that Anton had the audacity to actually do something different with it. 

Anton didn’t “mistype” to cover his ass, he had to clarify because people like you twist everything into a federal crime scene the second you get confused. You think pointing out that he criticizes other Jeffs is a gotcha…? No, he critiques, that’s allowed. We all know that and we’re not fucking stupid, bitch. What YOU are doing is attempting to destroy Anton’s name with baseless but HUGE accusations getting stirred up on your blog. None of us EVER tried to do this kind of shit to you. Now the cat’s out of the bag because you just couldn’t leave us alone.

As for the Leech and Tyrant situation: he's writing a toxic dynamic on purpose to show how evil it is, not to endorse it. If you can't handle seeing morally bad characters doing bad things without thinking it’s an endorsement, you’re not fit to be talking shit. And accusing someone of guilt just because they edited a post is the dumbest middle school logic imaginable. You’re not exposing anything real here. You’re just pissed that Blessed Be the Wicked isn’t the fandom-safe, pastel-coated story you wanted. You didn’t "catch" Anton,  you exposed yourself as someone too lazy to engage with actual horror storytelling and too entitled to realize you aren’t owed anything.

You have never bothered to investigate further into Blessed Be The Wicked’s messages. Your "criticism" about how "violence isn't maturity" is laughable, no shit, but Anton isn't just throwing gore around for shock, he’s showing broken characters being broken, which is leagues more thoughtful than pretending Jeff just needed a hug. You ramble about feminism like it has anything to do with Anton's work when it doesn't. And your complaints about “spite” and “hatred” are projection at its finest, dude, you are the one bashing Anton publicly. Anton talks about the fandom, his takes, and his arts. You encourage people to call him an incest supporter, a creep, and a misogynist. In the end, you admit you don’t know anything about his actual story. You tuned out, you didn’t engage, and you decided your shallow personal grudge mattered more than facts. That’s not critique, bitch, that’s straight selfism.

Look at Terrifyer 2. Look at Hostel. Look at literally any fucking horror movie. Anton’s level of gore/sexuality in his work is like a goddamn tea party. You’re acting like a fucking baby. You admit you were emotionally unstable when you wrote your original hit piece (no surprise there), but you still cling to your outrage like a little fucking kid. You’re mad because in early drafts, two characters were written to be the same person (not literal twins,) or mentor-apprentice, and in later drafts they were rewritten, as if that’s some cardinal sin in storytelling. You PURPOSEFULLY took that literally to cause shit.

Rewriting and evolving relationships is called developing a story, not "one-upping yourself." Then you reach for the laziest grenade you could find. "It’s misogyny!!!! Look guys it’s misogyny!!!! It’s bad!!!" As if screaming misogyny without evidence somehow makes your whining valid. You tried the "healing art isn’t for the internet" take, which is such a bad-faith, selfish argument it’s practically villainous. Anton sharing art he worked through trauma with doesn’t obligate him to babysit your feelings. I’m sure we can all agree that we hold art close to our hearts in one way or another and want to share that. Your grand finale on one of these latest posts is calling yourself an "ignorant cunt" like it’s a badge of honor. Fine. Self-awareness is the first step to recovery. Stay there.

The guilt-tripping lately is Olympic-level. Someone from her asks apologized for accidentally fanning the flames, and KLR practically threw a pity party. She claims it’s "not their fault," but immediately shifts to passive-aggressively blaming us for daring to defend ourselves, because how dare people try to keep an innocent man’s name clean? Then she acts like a martyr, whining about being "singled out," even though she was the one who reignited an old drama with a new post. Actions, consequences. Not a hard concept dude, come on. She says she’s "upset it escalated," like she’s just an innocent bystander, when she chose to publish drama-bait and knew exactly what kind of response it would get. You’re not a victim of some grand scheme; you're just messy, and now the mess splattered back on you.

After stirring the pot until it boiled over, KLR pulled this AWESOME classic internet martyr move: announcing a dramatic "signing off" like she’s some war hero going into exile. She cries that blocking people somehow wasn’t enough (because her victims have to silence themselves just to make her comfortable). She insists she’s “safe” and “not self-harming,” fishing for sympathy, doing that bullshit manipulative undertone of accusation that we’re threatening her SAFETY??? while conveniently ignoring that her side started the harassment, ableism, and dogpiling over personality disorders. “I’m not suicidal guys!!!” Motherfucker, nobody said ANYTHING about coming over to hurt you. You’re projecting.

Then, just like clockwork, she wraps it all in a syrupy "you are loved, have fun, be creative" speech, because nothing says emotional manipulation like trying to look wholesome right after turning a fandom into a battleground. If she wanted things to calm down, she could've stopped months ago. But no, she kept kicking the hornet’s nest and now wants a parade for "stepping away." The Oscar is in the mail.

So, let’s look at the receipt here:

Saw Anton’s views she didn’t like → obsessed over them.

Months of “poking the bear,” shitposts, stirring the pot, supposedly dropping vague DMs from alts, keyboard warrior shit.

Ramped up the disinformation campaigns and ableism when she didn’t get the attention she wanted

Played "truth-teller" while getting ego boosts from followers.

Anton’s defenders decided to FINALLY clap back after finally getting sick of it.

Immediately switched to "I’m scared 😭 I did nothing wrong!!" mode.

Blocked critics, played dead online. Prepping for a comeback in a different fandom probably as we speak.

Yup, that checks out. She’s textbook. Not "misunderstood." Not "scared." Not "traumatized into lashing out." She's a professional abuser LARPing as a martyr and I am not about to sit here and let her continue to abuse not only my lover, my friends, and myself, but the fandom I grew up in and hold dear. 

I’ve got THIRTEEN individual people in my inbox telling me all about you, and I’m so happy to know that it’s not us, it’s you. Fuck you.

Sincerely,

Locke

[tiger-grace]

mp100 pencil sketches 😪

Also I got the first manga and that version of mob does not put up with reigen’s bs at all holy cow?? 😭😭

[sadaveniren]

🙄🙄

If that is what you got from me making a post where I joke about how actual society off of the Internet isn’t going to crucify me or harass me for enjoying something perceived weird, and thinking differently than the average person, all while staying in my own lane (and this isn’t even talking about me expressing that a lot of this is - probably - because of autism meaning my brain is LITERALLY WIRED DIFFERENTLY BUT THATS OKAY) I genuinely question your compassion for people who are different than you.

Like.

I honestly do worry how you handle meeting someone who’s just a bit different than you. You must be someone who immediately bullies someone you think is weird, even if they have done nothing to you except have fun.

[sallymew4]

anita maxx wyn

anita maxx wyn

[violent-viscera]

Can we just talk about this for one second?

“Wanna hear a dumb joke? A sentimental ex-con, a giant furball, and two of Piltover's most wanted walk into a weird cult.”

First, the sentimental ex-con.

The fact that Jinx, within the same act essentially called Vi out for being a traitor who joined forces with the "Piltie goons who killed [their] mom and dad" (and implied they both are psychos), still would rather affectionately see her sister as an ex-con over an enforcer–even though the latter position is more recent. She also acknowledges the softness, the gentleness that still exists in her older sister. Yes, she was more interested in “hitting things” when they were younger—and they were only recently at each other’s throats. But even so, Jinx knows that Vi is still sentimental at heart.

She saw Vi step between her/Isha when Caitlyn was still to willing take a fatal shot and traumatize or kill a child. She got to see her older sister put herself between Isha and Jinx when Warwick/Vander was coming at them full force. She sees the kindness in Vi still.

The affectionate jibe directed at Vander. Her second father, memories of whom she had been carrying around in the shape of guilt for YEARS, thinking that she had killed him. Throughout the act, until Singed irrevocably destroys Vander, we see how much this man loves his daughter. This act is the final admonishment to people who thought Vander didn’t love Powder–no, we just didn’t get to see their relationship as much. But he has always put so much responsibility on Vi because he wanted to make sure Powder, Claggor, and Mylo were safe–not that he loved Powder any less.

And lastly, her inclusion of Isha into their little screwed up family–two of Piltover’s most wanted. As we’ve seen in other posts, while Vi pushed Powder to the sidelines because she wanted to protect Powder, Jinx never excludes her because she didn’t want Isha to feel the way she did. I pity both Vi and Jinx so much because they were both showing love the best way they knew how–and tragedy and loss struck them both. 

But my point is this: even though Jinx frames it as a joke, kind of snide and snarky, as we see in this episode and act…..this little family reunion/addition meant everything to her. 

[fandom]

Movies

Nine rings for mortal men doomed to die, five nights in an abandoned pizzeria, and one (1) fourth-generation Honda Odyssey.

Deadpool & Wolverine

Five Nights at Freddy's +26

Lord of the Rings +4

The Hunger Games +10

Saw +18

Dune +53

Barbie -6

Challengers

Trolls Band Together

Saltburn

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse -9

Red, White, and Royal Blue -6

Transformers One

The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes +76

A Minecraft Movie

Nimona -12

The Hobbit +10

Inside Out 2

Scream

Mean Girls +17

Sonic the Hedgehog 3

Venom: The Last Dance +21

Twilight +1

How to Train Your Dragon +8

Dead Poets Society

The Boy and the Heron

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

Ultraman: Rising

The Marvels +48

Goncharov -27

Coraline +16

Lisa Frankenstein

Howl's Moving Castle -7

Top Gun: Maverick -14

Les Misérables +9

Luca

An Extremely Goofy Movie

Steamboat Willie

The Addams Family -30

The Super Mario Bros. Movie

Shrek -24

Spirited Away -2

The Batman -2

Twisters

Trolls World Tour

Brokeback Mountain

Fight Club +41

Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire

I Saw the TV Glow

Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith +12

Knives Out -40

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

Rite Here Rite Now

The Nightmare Before Christmas +19

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem -34

The Princess Bride +4

Frozen -3

Little Shop Of Horrors

Monkey Man

Thunderbolts*

Night at the Museum +9

Gladiator II

The Lion King

Alien: Romulus

Ratatouille

Soul +5

Wreck-It Ralph

The Wild Robot

Pacific Rim -6

Avatar: The Way of Water -55

Princess Mononoke -13

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes

American Psycho -16

The Thing -26

The Fantastic Four: First Steps

The Mummy -4

Longlegs

Heathers +18

Beauty And The Beast -46

Oppenheimer -67

Alien (1979)

Titanic

Equestria Girls -9

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story -42

The Little Mermaid -67

Marie Antoinette

Pirates of the Caribbean -3

The Lost Boys -12

The Dark Knight

My Neighbor Totoro -9

John Wick -42

Ponyo

Kung Fu Panda +4

Hellraiser -19

Encanto -50

Wish

The Shining

Star Wars: Episode IV—A New Hope

Ghostbusters

Lilo & Stitch -13

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

Love movies? Discuss plots, follow franchises, and share movie memes. Right this way.

[lullabyes22-blog]

"I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away."

Got a lot of Q's for this in my inbox. Figured I'd just address them here.

tw: mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation

Re: the ending of S2:

Jinx did not die.

She symbolically killed her old self, and with it, her last ties to the past that imprisoned her. She understood that for her sister to move on and live her life - be happy without guilt - she'd have to renounce the bonds that held them together.

Her talk with ghostly Silco was the 'sign-off' she'd been waiting for, ever his dutiful daughter. Throughout S2, she kept hoping he'd haunt her, and in doing so, offer some impetus given her aimlessness. Maybe just straight up boss her around, and tell her how she's supposed to exist now that he's no longer there to be a (subversive if loving) guiding hand.

But it was the promise of time (as represented by Ekko) healing old wounds, and the courage to feel, as she once had - a hopeful child with a hopeful future - that allowed Jinx to commit impetus to action.

Her blimp-ship in the climactic battle is a tribute to Isha - but also to the child in Jinx's own fractured psyche: Powder. She's letting both little girls have one last hurrah before she takes care of business - and cuts off the last oaths, duties and commitments that bind her to a past whose parameters she's outgrown.

Better still, she knows she's got the capacity to outgrow them.

That was the point of Jinx's arc with Isha, and why, no matter my misgivings on Isha's character herself, I found Jinx's trajectory towards a more nurturing and fun-loving figure more life-affirming and positive than the straightforward 'Daddy's Villain Goes Postal' shtick.

It's even why there's a minigame titled Jinx Fixes Everything. It's Jinx, struggling and stumbling, as she tries to rewrite her narrative, and finds in herself the capacity to do good.

To fix things that seem irreparably broken.

And to understand why she's reached this stage, we've got to let go of our tendency to project our own stuff onto Jinx (precious meow meow, unrepentant terrorist, manic pixie crazypants, edgy hot psycho) and acknowledge the purpose she plays in Arcane's thematic structure.

Jinx's character comes off as a death-seeker, and that's no shocker. She is hounded by terrible guilt and loss. She's got blood on her hands, and ghosts on her heels, and no matter what she does, she can't seem to be rid of them. Her inner mind's fractured, her mannerisms ooze pure chaos, and she seems a creature of pure feral impulse and no mercy.

That's the Jinx we're accustomed to seeing in S1 - except that's also both the front she's most likely to put on during that timeline, and the persona that is necessary for her to inhabit to survive, as Silco's daughter and his top enforcer.

Then Silco kicks the bucket, she symbolically fulfills his dream by shooting at the Council HQ, she accepts that she must inhabit this path of shadows and loneliness (as symbolized by her starkly decorated chair in the tea party scene), she accepts the fragmented push-and-pull between past and present, and...

And now what?

Silco's given her a semblance of direction for six years, and he's gone. Vi, the sister she'd hoped would return, and whom she'd hinged so many childishly idealized hopes on, is herself traumatized, and afraid of what her sister's become.

Jinx has her shadows and her loneliness. Jinx is traumatized. Jinx is suicidal.

But Jinx is still, whatever else, alive.

And all living things need connections.

That's why we as the audience enjoy her little found family dynamic with Isha and Sevika. It's Jinx, taking the first tentative steps to reach out to people beyond Silco and Vi, and realizing, wow, she enjoys the pay-off.

And all throughout S2, we see Jinx growing more and more comfortable in this newfound space - even jealously guarding it at the expense of Zaun's liberty, and Silco's wishes, because she can't bear to lose what she's found.

And what she finds empowers her enough that, when Warwick shows up, she's actually willing to reach out to Vi, and call upon their family connection, because Jinx is learning the value of bonds, not as baling hooks of guilt, but as buoys to carry her forward.

That's the story Jinx's relationships serve to tell in S2. Each one shapes the choice she makes in the finale. Until she learns to accept the past (Vi), to lay the monsters to rest (Silco and Vander/Warwick), forgive herself (Caitlyn) trust that time heals all wounds (Ekko), and hope for happier new beginning (Isha), she'll never trust herself enough to just seize the chance.

Jinx's culminating arc is not about death, much less self-erasure. It's about resurrection, and embracing the sublime chaos of a freed mind, and a lightened spirit. That's what she craves beyond simple death, and what her baptism by fire, blood and riverwater, has been about.

Each trial grinds her down into someone else. Someone new.

Someone closer to who she is meant to be, rather than who she's expected to be.

That's why she's so glad to make the sacrifice for Vi. She's not dying as an act of self-immolation. She's giving her sister - the one who's proven she'll never give up on her - the ultimate gift, and showing Vi that she deserves to live.

She needs Vi to live, so Jinx, the persona, can finally die.

"He (Silco) didn't make Jinx. You did."

She's basically saying, "I love you, I will always be with you, but you are no longer responsible for my actions. Please move forward with your life, and grant me the choice to do the same."

It's two sisters embracing everything they've meant to each other, acknowledging the pain weighing them down on both sides, and welcoming the new so they can each slough off old paradigms and live life as a whole person - or at least take steps to remembering what wholeness feels like.

That's the reason the show's final shots linger on the Hexgate tunnels, Jinx's monkey bomb, and the aircraft.

It's the show's way of reminding us that Jinx has ascended to a different version of her identity - one removed from the past that haunted her. It's Jinx, finally striking out alone, away from the sister whose memory she clung so desperately to, and who was, in turn, horrified by her hand in making Powder a monster (perceived guilt or real, fandom may debate ad nauseum) due to past mistakes and abandonment.

The ending of Arcane isn't tragic. It's deeply hopeful, and serves as a reminder that no matter how damaged you think you are, and no matter how monstrous the world finds you, there are still ways to come back to yourself - or to walk the path toward a new you.

Jinx is symbolized by crows. Jinx is shown with firelights emerging from her mouth. Jinx is depicted holding a torch like Janna ushering in the winds of change.

Thematically, Jinx is change.

And the best way she can embody that change is to write her story, and make it her own.

[dollface1stblog]

Triplets

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the butchery of the beloved, the boulder, the bimbo and the brilliant

kinktober, day twenty-five

a/n: ahhh, it's finally time to share the kinktober fic you all helped shape!! it turned out so fucking unhinged and i love it. happy halloween, folks!

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

summary: “they–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

warnings: dark!rafe cameron x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, slasher au, final girl!reader, 00’s slutty horror movie vibes, found family, nonverbal, murder, violence, blood, gore, crying, alcohol consumption, smoking, possessiveness, jealousy, mask kink, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, manhandling, dirty talk, just the tip, pussyjob, oral, spit kink, impact play, pain kink, choking, bondage, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, references to anal/painal

word count: 7400

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

It all started at a lunch table, as so many friendships do. 

The first one to sit was Hana, the nurturing soul of the group who had been a genius even back then. The next to join was Brian, the blonde bombshell whose smile brightened any room he entered. Then came Oliver, the guy who at twelve years old had stood up to the bully you couldn’t face yourself and swore from that day on he’d do so for each and every one of you till the end of your days. And lastly, there was you, in many ways the glue of the little pack. 

To say that the four of you were thick as thieves didn’t even begin to cover it, as you’d been there for each other in every up and down in each of your lives since adolescence. Even when your mother passed, especially when your mom passed, that’s when you truly knew that they weren’t just your pals, but your family. 

“Oh wow,” you breathed as you gazed out the window to the destination you’d finally reached, “is this really your dad’s cabin?” you glanced over your shoulder at the man behind the wheel, a proud smirk ever on his lips.

“Yep,” Rafe nodded and reached down to put the car in park. 

You’d met him at the beginning of this semester and it hadn’t taken you very long at all to fall embarrassingly and completely head over heels for the guy. 

Though he wasn’t the first boyfriend to grow to be a part of the tight-knit clique, he hadn’t been welcomed with open arms as you remembered Jerome, Brian’s partner, had two years ago. The gentle giant of few words had melted into your dynamic so naturally that none of you remembered any longer a time before him. But it wasn’t like that this time, not with Rafe. For some reason, your friends just couldn’t warm up to the frat guy you loved so dearly. 

As you heard the other car roll to a stop behind you, the vehicle where the four remaining resisted, your fingers dipped down into your pocket and fished out your phone to snap a photo of the luxurious lake house and its breathtaking views, though that’s when you noticed the lack of bars up in the upper corner of the screen.

“Oh, damn it…” you squinted down at your phone, “is there seriously no service out here?” 

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you,” Rafe snatched out the keys, “this place is pretty off-grid, you have to probably walk half an hour or something to get any signal.”

The dry leaves on the forest floor crunched beneath your shoes as you stepped out of the car and tipped your head back to glance up at how high the surrounding pine trees stretched up towards the cloudy sky. 

As Rafe hopped up onto the wide porch and fiddled with a bundle of keys to unlock the place, your gaze kept finding him as you hung back a while and helped your friends unload their car.

“Can you all please promise to play nice this weekend?” you quietly asked them. 

“Yeah,” Oliver huffed, yanking out a heavy duffle bag, “I’ll play nice if he does, which I sincerely doubt since I haven’t yet discovered one kind bone in his body.” 

“Oh, come on,” you defended your beau, “he’s the one who suggested this trip so that you could all finally discover what a sweet guy he actually is,” before you all ascended the short steps and filtered into the abode. 

Not soon after you all crossed the threshold, Rafe’s arms seized your waist and drew you back against him, whispering in your ear that he wanted to give you the grand tour of the house. 

However, when you reached the room that was to belong to the two of you for the rest of the weekend, his ulterior motives for the journey around the cabin became crystal clear. 

At first, when he wrapped his arms around you from behind as you gazed out the tall windows at the foot of the bed, a giggle bubbled in your belly as you felt his desire poke the small of your back. Though it was already during his palm’s swift voyage under the hem of your shirt and up towards your boobs that he let slip what crucial item he’d neglected to pack. 

“You didn’t bring any condoms?” you twisted around to glare at the persistence that still sparkled in his eyes.

“Oh, come on, don’t let that fact spoil our fun,” he pulled you back into his arms, “don’t you want me to dick you down this weekend, huh?” he murmured in your ear.

“Well, I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you slowly pushed him back, “so it’ll just have to be another weekend.”  

But then he seized your hand and brought it down to the palpable tent in his jeans, “babe, come on. Just feel how hard I am. You can’t just leave me like this, not when it’s your fault to begin with.”

Your mouth then fell open as a shy scoff rolled off your tongue, “I literally haven’t done a thing, how is it my fault?”

“Come on, don’t act like a prude,” his grip around your wrist shifted and it slid down to rub your palm against his hardness, “be a good girl and at the very least get down on your knees.”

“No,” you chuckled lightly and pushed yourself off of him enough to stumble closer towards the bedroom’s exit, “if you’re so desperate, then take care of it yourself.” 

Even though winter was creeping ever nearer, each one of you still dared to go down to the lake’s small pier and soak up the mild rays of autumn sun that peeked out behind the clouds. Both Hana and Oliver even gathered enough courage to take a dip in the cool water, though weren’t successful in any of their attempts at talking the rest of you into the same. 

Though when your friends in the water began to splash at one another, Oliver teasingly let some splatter upon Brian as he sat on the edge, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky as he relaxed back against his boyfriend. 

“Oh my god! Don’t!” he tensely straightened up, his tone startling Jerome enough that his palm that rested on Brian’s waist tightened, “stop! You’re giving me flashbacks to summer camp!” 

As you heard your grinning friend in the lake apologise, you opened your mouth to note, “that’s right, I forgot you went to camp when we were kids.”

“Yeah, it was honestly revolting,” Brian recoiled slightly at the recollection, “mosquitoes, terrible food, even worse people. Had a big old lake just like this one,” he gestured to the surrounding landscape. 

“Actually,” Rafe then spoke up, his voice booming to your ears as he sat directly behind you, his legs slotted on either side of your frame as his chin rested atop your shoulder, “this place used to be a summer camp too back when my dad bought it.”

“Really?” Hana glanced up from the water, their childish game now halted. 

“Yeah, I mean,” Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder at the structures on the bank just behind him, “it had been abandoned and completely deserted for a long time, but a lot of the buildings, the main house and the shed and stuff, they’re the original cabins just renovated.”

“Your dad bought an abandoned camp?” Oliver scrunched up his face, “okay, creepy…”

“Oh, hell no, I’m out,” Brain began to unravel, “babe, if we wake up in the middle of the night to a ghost child standing at the foot of our bed, it’s your job to take care of it,” he glanced over his shoulder at Jerome, “I’m too delicate and pretty to deal with the paranormal, especially if it’s kids,” to which his boyfriend simply hummed in agreement and soothingly let his palm run down his partner’s arm.

“Oh, this place isn’t haunted,” Hana said after she’d swam up to clutch against the side of the pier, “calm down.”

“Well, you don’t know that, it might be,” the blonde man behind you shrugged, “especially with what apparently happened here back in the day…”

“What are you talking about?” you looked back at him. 

“Well, back like forty years ago or something, when this was still a camp, there was this one counsellor who one day just went nuts, like snapped and murdered every single person there,” Rafe told, purposely making his tone more ominous the further into the story he got, “that’s why the place was shut down and abandoned, why no one ever wanted to return it to its former glory. It’s one of the most gruesome unsolved cases in this entire corner of the country.”

“Wait, unsolved?” Brian clutched his imaginary pearls. 

“Yeah, the guy was never caught, supposably never even left these woods…” he then leaned in and attempted to truly spook you all, “at night if you listen closely, you can still hear him sharpening his blade, getting ready to hunt his next prey…”

Hana, assuming that he was only joking, let out a dry laugh to cut the tense silence that had fallen over you all, “okay, very funny, ha-ha.” 

“Yeah,” you gently rubbed your boyfriend’s arm as you tried to shake the tale off of you, “let’s maybe not joke about psychopaths running around a rural area when we actually are in a rural area,” though goosebumps still pricked and tingled every inch of your skin. 

“Wait, how did it go?” your giggle mingled with Oliver’s as you both leaned against the kitchen counter, nearly bumping your foreheads together from how hard you were laughing, “was it…” and you began to hum a faint melody. 

“No because, remember, at the end it went,” your friend cut you off and then made his own attempt, though much more accurate than your own, causing your eyes to promptly light up with recognition before they crinkled together in laughter as he tried to hit the high note at the end. 

Once the woods surrounding the cabin had succumbed to darkness, the group of you all decided to wrap the day up in a bit of merriment, going through Rafe’s father’s liquor stash and turning up the music. 

During your and Oliver’s secluded moment in the kitchen away from the rest, your laughter caused you to sway even closer to one another, your palm naturally planting itself on his chest as your faces nearly touched. 

Though just as the pair of you were doubled over, a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Oh,” your grin continued as you spotted your boyfriend, “hey baby,” though your laughter finally began to fade. 

Staring daggers at the man beside you, Rafe then uttered coldly, “hey,” before his feet carried him straight towards you, seized your waist and twisted you away from your friend and towards himself to capture your lips. 

“Okay, right,” Oliver exhaled as Rafe kept marking his territory, kissing you way more passionately than he needed to, “I’ll just see you guys back in the living room then…”

You tried to tilt away enough to utter your friend a reply, though your boyfriend didn’t allow you, only let you go once Oliver was long gone and Rafe returned to his original plan of cracking open the fridge to get a cold beer for himself. 

Walking back out into the living room while your boyfriend scavenged for a bottle opener, you plopped yourself back down on the couch, on the opposite side to where Brian and Jerome were snuggled up. Next to where the lit fireplace crackled sat Oliver in a chair and not far from his feet on the fuzzy carpet rested Hana, legs crisscrossed as she held up her wine glass to stare through it. 

When Rafe rejoined you all, a freshly glowing cigarette trapped between his lips as he sauntered out of the kitchen, he situated himself right beside you, making space for himself where there hadn’t really been previously. In his hand, he didn’t just balance his own drink, but also a stout glass filled with an amber liquid, one he swiftly handed off to you even though you hadn’t asked for it, yet that had still been the routine of the evening, and after the first one was sloshing on your belly, the others became harder to deny and not accidentally sip absentmindedly, especially when he’d playfully help you along by tilting the glass the remaining distance up towards your lips. 

“Sweetie,” Hana soon leaned closer to utter for your ears only, “don’t you want a glass of water instead?” 

Though your boyfriend beside you unfortunately overheard and grasped his cigarette between two of his longer fingers, a puff of smoke accompanying his words as he answered before you got the chance to, “she’s fine.”

From across the couch, as Hana scooted back to her spot on the carpet, having not caught the quiet interaction, Brian then suggested, “why don’t we play a game or something?” 

“What, like truth or dare?” Hana leaned back against an unoccupied armchair. 

“No, this isn’t a slumber party. Isn’t there like board games here?”

Brian’s glance then drifted to Rafe as he smothered his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and, without warning, pulled you into his lap and caught Oliver’s eye from across the room as he shamelessly let his hands wander across your frame.  

“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the cabinet over there,” Rafe vaguely gestured before his lips began to nip at the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter and only half watched along as Brian then got up to skim through the aforementioned cupboard. 

“Okay,” he glanced through the options, “there are cards, so we could play poker or something,”

“No way,” Oliver swiftly shook his head and shot a glance at Jerome’s bulky form, comfortably slumped on the couch, “I’m not repeating that fiasco again.” 

“Aw,” Brian glanced back at his friend, “but it was so cute seeing my boyfriend fucking demolish you,” and Jerome, the quiet man he was, just let out a grunt in agreement.

“No, pick something else,” Oliver waved a hand. 

“Well, we’ve got monopoly, scrabble, cards against humanity–, uh! There’s clue!” he excitedly picked up the box and spun around, “oh, work! Let’s play that!” 

With his kisses still dancing along your skin, they then suddenly ceased as Rafe announced, “you guys go ahead, I think Y/n is ready for bed.” 

Shooting a concerned glance at how your intoxicated form wobbled slightly as your boyfriend helped you up on your feet, Hana uttered, “oh, are you sure?” 

“She is,” Rafe’s touch clung to you, “aren’t you babe?” 

“Oh, uhm…” you hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he mentioned it, as if he himself planted the thought in your hazy mind, all of the alcohol had in fact made you pretty sleepy, “yeah, I guess so.” 

“Alright, well then,” Hana’s voice stayed slightly hesitant, “sleep tight.”

“I love you guys,” you blew the group kisses as Rafe helped you over towards the stairs. 

His kisses made you even more dizzy than you already were, so when you stumbled over the threshold into your shared room, you flopped down onto the mattress, though you weren’t quite sure if you’d just fallen or if Rafe had manhandled your intoxicated and pliant frame, giving you a push before his form was atop of yours. 

Though now that you were horizontal and with the weight of a frat boy squishing you further down into the bed, that was when you truly noticed just how much you’d had to drink that evening. 

The room was spinning as Rafe made out with you, his palms raking across your body like a wild storm, squeezing every soft curve he could get his hands on. As one hand disappeared up your skirt, his kisses wandered down and over your throat to the bit of your chest that was exposed in the neckline of your top. Wasting no time at all, he then yanked down the hem, catching one of the cups of your bra as well as he unwrapped your tit like a present. 

As his face was buried in your boobs, surely giving you hickeys from the way that he sucked at your pebbly nipple and the surrounding sensitive skin, a breathless attempt at halting his affections left your lungs, “baby–” 

Though he didn’t take the whimper as you’d intended it and simply continued, “shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he yanked down the other sliver of mesh fabric covering your other boob, “god, these tits are just insane.” 

Weakly, you ran your fingers through his buzzed hair and gasped as you felt his hardness grind into your covered core, “Rafe, I–” 

“Yeah?” his lips began to flutter back up to your own as he let himself rock against you with more intent, “you want this big dick, huh?” 

“No, we can’t, we don’t have a–”

“Oh come on, baby,” he shifted, slipping a hand down under the waistband of your skirt and into your underwear, not hesitating to sweep his fingers through your wetness and bully your little button, “I know you want to…” 

“Stop, that feels too good,” you tried, but couldn’t yank his strong hand away, “you can’t–, I have to get up and brush my teeth.” 

“You know, all my exes let me tap it raw,” he purred in your ear and attempted to guilt you, “why won’t you? Don’t you trust me?” his touch then suddenly disappeared, but only to tug down the zipper on the side of your short skirt.

“Of course I do, I just–”

“Then why won’t you let me make you feel good, huh?” he yanked both your skirt and panties down your legs, so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. Crawling off of your jelly-like form, he stood tall and loomed at the foot of the bed. Wasting no time, he yanked your core closer to the edge before he desperately freed his fat cock. The taps he then offered your glistening cunt, letting you reel in the weight of his length, “doesn’t that feel nice, baby?” he smirked at the way your mouth fell open, “because it sure seems like your little pussy thinks so, just look,” you followed his command and glanced down to spot how his intimidating girth nudged at your weepy petals. 

Even after months of dating, you still hadn’t gotten used to the daunting size of him. 

“Oh, fuck…” your brows knitted together. 

“Just listen to that,” he flicked the bulbous tip through your slick folds with more vigour, causing the melody of your want to echo even louder throughout the bedroom, “you’re so fucking wet. You want it so bad…”

You then felt yourself fade away into the intoxicating sensation, letting him continue to fuck your fold and make your pussy drool even further till your eyes fluttered shut. 

However, it didn’t take very long at all, through all of the hazy motions, before the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside. 

“Rafe!” you gasped, eyes snapping back open as your spine lurched off the mattress just an inch. 

“Fuck,” he let out a loud groan, “sorry, babe. You’re just too soaked, it slipped in,” though didn’t move at all to pull it back out, since it had secretly been completely on purpose, “christ, you’re so tight…”

As he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, you pleaded once more, “Rafe…” quietly begging for him to take it out through the conflicting haze as the familiar sensation of him stuffing you full always shut your brain completely off.

“This doesn’t count,” he claimed as he began to move, pumping just the bulbous head of himself in and out of your little hole, “not really. I can fuck you with just the tip, right?” a few of his fingers then lowered to strum your clit and summon a loud moan from deep within your soul, “yeah, that’s what I thought…”

As he removed his fingers from your clit, he then stuffed them in your mouth, muffling your soft whimpers and letting you suck them clean of your juices. As the taste of yourself coated your tongue, your own hands came up to clutch his, holding it near as you soon let your pecks wander across his palm and even down to plant a soft kiss to the gold ring that never left his finger.

“Oh–,” a gasp then left your lungs as he suddenly pushed in a bit more of his length, “Rafe, that’s too deep,” selfishly letting himself feel more of your warmth. 

“No, that’s not too deep,” he began to fuck you properly, making you lose your breath, “you wanna know what is too deep?” a purposefully harsh thrust then buried itself so far inside of you that a tingle of pain joined the pleasure, “that’s too deep,” he then retracted just a tad, though still filled you up completely with each long stroke, “this is just right.” 

“We can’t–,” you foggily tried to shake your head. 

“Yes, we can. Just look how good you’re taking me, baby,” the palm you’d been clutching then escaped your grasp and scooped behind your head to tilt your neck and lock it there, directing your glance down between your bodies and forcing you to spot the faint bulge that appeared at each one of his mind-melting thrusts, “you don’t wanna stop…”

Feeling that all too familiar high begin to fuzz up your periphery, you trembled, “o-oh, fuck…” 

“You feel so fucking good…” he grunted as your pussy began to clench around his fat girth, “just let me use you for a bit, yeah?” 

“I–, I–,” gasps of air expanded your lungs as his pace then thrust you over the edge, “holy shit…” and your cunt helplessly clambered around him. 

In your orgasmic haze, Rafe then abruptly flipped you around for you to lay on your stomach, and you barely managed to process it before you felt the weight of him settle atop of you, smooshing you down into the mattress as he slid back in. 

“Ah!” you yelped at the way he didn’t hold back, “Rafe, it’s too much,” not even bothering to grant you a chance to recover, but simply fucked through your soreness, “I can’t–”

“Oh, shut up, you can take it,” he growled in your ear, his feet hooking your ankles and spreading your shaky legs further for him, “take it like the good little slut you are.”

It was strange how he’d taught your body to love the pain he inflicted. Even if the source was just his god-given gift of a girth, or curse, all depending on your point of view, and not the roughness he occasionally let slip out of the dark depths he tried to hide his jagged sides in for you and you alone.  

“Fuck,” you soon heard him groan as his heavy sack slapped against your cunt at each one of his furious rocks, “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Pull out–,” you managed to mumble into the sheets.

“What?” he kept on pounding your poor pussy. 

“Not inside,” you tilted your head a bit to beg, “please!”

“Oh my god, fine,” he then begrudgingly pulled out and with one hand flipped you back onto your stomach as the other wrapped around his cock and he began to fuck his fist. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled further up your body till his thighs caged you in, denting the mattress on either side of your face. He didn’t even wait for your lips to part before he shoved his dick down your throat, making you gag as he groaned loudly above you, “fuck…” and fed you his load.  

When he soon flopped down on the bed beside you, the both of you catching your breaths, you instinctively gulped down what he’d given you before you curled your frame into his side. 

As he wrapped an arm beneath your head, his glance then flickered down to you as he caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting you up to him before he asked, “did you swallow it?” digging his digit slightly into your skin and making you open your mouth for him, letting him discover the answer him himself, “fuck… that’s my girl…” he groaned before dipping down to kiss you. 

The peck however didn’t carry on for long as his warmth then suddenly disappeared. 

“Where are you going?” you watched as he got up, reaching out your arms to him in a silent plea for cuddles. 

“I’m thirsty,” he zipped his pants back up, though didn’t bother with his shirt, “you just try and fall asleep, I’ll be right back.” 

Flashing him a drowsy smile, “okay,” you then tug the duvet over your form and let your gaze shadow him as he made his way out of the room. 

You thought you hadn’t managed to fall asleep, but evidently, you had as when the door to the room suddenly burst open, you were jolted awake, Rafe as well stirring as he was now settled behind you with an arm draped over your frame. 

As three of your friends rushed to slam the door behind them, Rafe propped himself up and mumbled, “hey, what the fuck–”

But Hana then cut him off, a downright terrified look plastered not only all over her own face, but the rest as well.

“Oliver’s dead,” she uttered through the tears that thickened up her voice. 

Still groggy, you slowly sat up and murmured, “what?”

Snapping her bloodshot eyes to lock with yours, she bellowed, “Oliver is fucking dead!” 

As your gaze flickered over the group in search of any sign that what she claimed wasn’t true, you heard Rafe behind you exhale, “okay, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh shut up, you dick!” Brian shot back, doubled over in the corner, hyperventilating as Jerome kneeled before him, trying to calm him down. 

“Hey, hey,” you gently raised up a hand, “don’t talk to him like that. What the hell do you mean Oliver is dead?”

“I mean that he’s dead as in dead, dead,” Hana explained, her words causing the world to suddenly crumble all around you, “Jerome went outside to get something from the car and found him on the porch, not moving and with his head stuck under the water in the hot tub.” 

With tears now stinging the corners of your eyes, you struggled to suck in a breath of air, “what?”

“It’s that fucking ghost story you told us,” Brian panicked in the corner, “it’s real, isn’t it?” 

“Okay,” Rafe uttered as the both of you leapt out of bed and scrambled to get some clothes on, “let’s all just calm down.”

“We gotta call the police,” Hana said, to which Jerome swiftly pulled out his phone, only to then curse quietly as he discovered what Brian too noticed when he glanced over his shoulder. 

“Fuck, we can’t, there’s no signal!”

Hana then glanced around at everyone, “well then one of us has gotta drive and find some, right?” 

“Hell no,” Brian shuttered, “if there’s some psycho out in these woods, then I’m not staying behind to get murdered. We’re all going.”

So that’s how, after you’d all scurried downstairs and filtered out through the sliding door to the porch, that you saw the truth with your own eyes. 

Even though his head was obscured beneath water, the unmoving corpse of your dear friend still caught your eyes and stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh my god…” you sobbed, your blood running cold. 

But before you could let your feet carry you closer to the scene of the crime, Rafe seized your arm and uttered, “baby, come on,” before pulling you along the last short distance towards the cars, “I’m sorry, but we gotta go.”

Though when you did reach the vehicles and attempted to start them, neither one of them would as they’d seemingly been tampered with, forcing the panicked lot of you all to run back inside. 

“Shit…” Brian clutched onto the back of the couch in the living room for support, “what do we do now?”

“We can’t go on foot, not in the dark through this forest,” Rafe spoke, “so we gotta stay here till morning.”

Glancing around the space, Hana uttered, “then we gotta make this place safe. Lock all the doors and windows, find somewhere to hide.” 

“Yeah, good idea,” your boyfriend nodded before suggesting, “let’s split up, it’ll be faster that way. Y/n with me, we’ll take that side of the house, and the rest of you stay over here.” 

And before anyone could protest, he’d yanked you down a dark hallway.

You nearly stumbled twice as Rafe dragged your shaking visage through the lake house, only stopping once you’d reached a large closet. 

“In here, baby,” he shoved you inside, though began to shut the door before he nuzzled himself in as well. 

“No, what are you doing?” tears streaming down your face, you attempted to stop him. 

Though he only halted his efforts a second, grasping your face as he uttered, “please, just stay here.”

“No, it’s too dangerous,” you clutched onto his dark t-shirt, “you can’t–”

“Babe, I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he then collided his lips with your own, a sob escaping your lungs as he briefly kissed you, “please, just stay right here, hide, for me.” 

Slowly, you loosened your trembling grip on his shirt and cried, “I love you.” 

“I’ll be right back!” he promised before shutting the closet door and bathing you in darkness. 

You had no idea how much time passed, if it was only a few seconds or hours that you stayed in the dusty and dim abyss of that closet, but then when a loud crash and a shrill scream suddenly found your ears, your shaky hand pushed the door back open.

You’d never in your life been as terrified as you were when you found yourself tip-toeing down that long, dark hallway. Though, as you sneaked past the ajar door to the study, your entire body suddenly froze up at the massacre that met you within. 

Unmoving and slumped over the threshold, there lied Jerome, his face beaten to a pulp, rendering it nearly unrecognisable as blood slowly trickled into the tight curls on the top of his head. 

Past where Hana was lying in the middle of the room, battered and coughing, in the corner you saw as a tall figure, masked by a dark motorcycle helmet, crouched over the still form of Brian and landed the last few blows to claim his life. 

“Please,” Hana’s words were gurgled by blood as the killer slowly straightened back up. Twisting ever so slightly, the assailant plucked out one of the clubs from the gold bag that leaned against one of the tall bookcases, “just let me go,” your last living friend begged as you watched the murderer wrap his long fingers around the handle and take the few steps to where Hana lied, “just let me–” 

As he took a wide swing and hit your friend right in her temple, the loud crack that echoed throughout the cabin made you shutter in terror and let out an uncontrollable scream, causing the killer’s head to snap up to spot you in the dark hallway. 

For a second you both just stood there, frozen and staring at one another, like two deer in headlights. But then, as he began to move, taking his time as he stepped over the bodies littering his path, you stumbled back and collided with the wall directly behind you. 

You tried to run, but even though you managed to slip out the wide glass doors and escape a good distance into the dark forest surrounding the house, the masked man still caught up to you and flung you against a tree. As he had you cornered, you felt him drag the cold tip of the golf club up your right leg and over your shuttering skin, drawing a crimson line of your beloved’s blood across your goosebump-ridden flesh. 

“P-please don’t kill me, please–,” you cried, but just then, the moonlight that streamed through the dense treetops caught in a glint of gold that adorned the hand that clutched the club, a recognizable ring that caused your heart to drop. 

As your eyes then flickered up to the dark helmet, that too seemed oddly familiar now that you truly looked at it. 

In some sick and twisted way, you hoped that the killer had just stolen the jewellery from your boyfriend as a trophy of the night’s conquest and not the horrifying alternative. 

But when you then tried to slip away and the man pushed you back, your hands defensively shot up, though only managed to knock the helmet off his head and let it tumble to the dark forest floor below, unveiling the earth-shattering truth. 

“Oh my god…” you gasped, eyes wide as you now stood face to face with your boyfriend. 

“Shh,” he took a step closer to you, caging you in even further, “calm down, baby. Don’t do anything stupid now.” 

“They–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

A low sigh then escaped Rafe’s lungs. 

“You really should have just stayed hidden like I told you to… I didn’t want you to find out this way… it would have been so much simpler if you’d just bought into the story I made up…” 

“You killed my friends…” your chest ached with every painful gasp of air, “how–… how could you?” 

“Oh, honey…” his head tilted slightly as the corners of his lips twitched, “do you really think this is my first time?” 

Staring back at him in horror, you sputtered, “w-why?”

“Because of you,” he uttered as if it was obvious, “it was all for you,” his feet shifted him even closer to you, “they were a bad influence, so this was the only way.”

“They were my family!” 

“They were like a poison, all of them, trying to control you, trying to take you away from me,” he inched in even closer, making you wish the harsh bark that scratched up your spine would simply open up like a portal and let you escape, “I know Hana was trying to get you to break up with me… Oliver always followed you around like a lost puppy, just hoping you’d one day spread your legs for him… and Jerome and Brian? They were just plain annoying,” his hot breath fanned across your skin as he petted the edges of your features with a knuckle of the hand clutching the golf club, “I did it all for you, for us, because I love you… fuck, you have no idea how much I fucking love you, baby…” he uttered before bringing the bud of the improvised weapon down upon the side of your head and knocking you clean out. 

When you came to, the flicking light from a lit fireplace was the only source of light in the dim room you found yourself in. Arms folded up behind your head, a long rope was tangled around them and stretched up to a beam in the ceiling above. Your legs too were tied, keeping your naked frame upright and locked in place in the middle of the room. 

“Fucking finally,” a low voice echoed from the chair across the chamber, causing you to wince as the tone pierced your soul and worsened your splitting headache, “you really took your sweet time waking up.” 

Blinking back at your boyfriend as he leaned back in the seat, pants undone and his hard length tight in his fist, a murmur escaped your lips, “…you knocked me out…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he got up and walked towards your suspended form, “but you didn’t give me any other choice.” 

As he slowly neared you, your glossy eyes flickered up to meet his.

“Rafe, please,” you heard your voice break as you tried to keep your tone soft, “you don’t have to do this. Just untie me, I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“Oh yeah?” a small scoff slipped through his smirk. 

“Yes. I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go,” you begged, “please don’t hurt me.” 

“Shh, shh,” his palm rose up to stroke your hair before letting it rush down and over the curves of your exposed body, “but you’ve been such a bad girl. I think you deserve a lesson that hurts a little bit,” his palm then slapped your pussy, still soaked and sore from earlier, rendering you to let out a shrill yelp, “it’s okay, you can cry…” he briefly leaned in to kiss your cheek before he shifted, though still staying so close that his nose ghosted along your skin as he made his way around to stand directly behind you, “you look so pretty when you do…”

You then squirmed as he reached down to grasp his cock and nudge at your sensitive entrance, “Rafe, please–, ah!” a cry then left your form as he ruthlessly rammed his way inside, plugging you up so completely that his balls nuzzled against your slick skin. 

“Fuck!” his moan tickled the shell of your ear as he tangled his arms around your torso, “you’re so perfect…” he began to move, finding a selfish pace to wreck you with, “so perfect and all mine…” 

As his thrusts caused your tits to jiggle, one of his wide hands soared up to grasp one while the other one snaked up to wrap around your throat. He then squeezed it fiercely enough that all your noises eventually faded away and he kept you completely quiet for a good moment before his hold slackened and he once again granted you the privilege of gasping for air. 

“This is all you need, just me, only me,” he grunted, “just like this, using your pretty little hole for exactly what it was made for… you were made for me and nobody else… no one…”

His grip then drifted down to dent your hips before he lifted them, raising your bound frame till your tip toes were barely grazing the cold floor. Your back arched slightly as he repeatedly brought your hips back to him, his balls sloppily slapping against your swollen clit each time he manoeuvred your body and treated you like a toy. 

When he then hooked an arm around your front to keep moving your body greedily against him, it granted the other one the grace to roam your frame freely. 

As his fingers found one of your nipples in a harsh pinch, he let out a groan at the way you began to clamper down around his fat girth, “are you gonna cum, baby? Huh?” his palm then slapped your tit, “because it sure fucking feels like you’re close,” before he suddenly retracted completely, slipping out of your drooling cunt and causing a shy whimper to slip from your lips, one he swiftly cut off when he smacked your cheek, “too bad. You’re not allowed to.” 

As you shakily struggled to stay on your unsteady feet, you panted, “Rafe, my legs, I can’t–”

“Oh yeah?” he mockingly pouted at you as he sauntered around to your front, “do they hurt? Are you tired?” and as you offered him a nod, his fingers grasped your chin, “well,” his thumb slowly stretched up to trace your bottom lip, “if you promise that you’ll be a good girl for me, then I’ll give you a little break.”

“Yes, I will,” a tear rolled down your still stinging cheek. 

“You will what?” his palm briefly slapped the side of your face once again before returning to the same hold. 

“I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want,” you begged and as he then sank down to his knees, grabbed a pocketknife resting on a nearby table and held up his end of the bargain, slicing through the ropes at your legs and cutting them loose. A new wave of sobs tumbled out of your form, “thank you! Oh, thank you so much!”

Tossing the blade far away before he rose back up, “you’re fucking welcome, baby,” he then caught you off guard as he suddenly plucked your lower half up into his arms. 

“W-wait, I thought you’d give me a break!” your legs trembled in his grasp as he slide you back onto his fat cock. 

“Yeah, your legs were tired, so I’m being nice and giving them a break,” the wet claps of your skin roughly colliding once again filled the dark room, “your pussy doesn’t deserve one yet… unless of course, this is you begging me to fuck your ass…” a wicked wish that he’d been begging you for ever since the very first time he banged you. 

“No! No, not there, please, I’ve never–”

“Oh, I know you haven’t,” he smirked, “that’s what makes it so much more fun…”

“Please, Rafe,” you blinked back at him, “don’t.”

“You told me I could do whatever I want…” he angled his bucks right against that spot that caused your teeth to dig into your lower lip, “you promised to be a good girl for me and just take whatever I give you…” 

“I will,” your eyes couldn’t help but flutter, “just please not that.”

He then let a dollop of his spit splatter directly against your face, “alright, but only because I love you,” before he dipped down to plant a feverish kiss against your lips, “tell me that you love me too.”

“I love you,” you murmured against his mouth. 

“Huh?” one of his hands let go of you and he shifted to balance you with only one, letting the other instead drift down between your forms to bully your puffy pearl, “what was that?”

“I lo–, a-ah!” you suddenly whined as he pressed one of his fingers inside your pussy, not caring in the slightest that you were already completely filled up as he forced his digit in alongside his fat cock. 

“Come on, baby,” he stared down at you, “tell me you love me,” and kept up his ruthless pace as he hooked the finger inside of you, “tell your soulmate just how much you love and adore him, how you want nothing more than to worship him at his feet.” 

“I–, I–, Rafe,” you gasped, feeling as if he was splitting you in half, “it’s too much–”

“No, it’s not too much, it’s exactly right, you can take it, baby.” 

“I can’t–”

“I don’t fucking care,” he continued to fuck you without remorse, slamming his intimidating length so deep inside of you that you nearly couldn’t breathe, “I wanna feel you cum, just like this.”

“Rafe–”

“Do it or I’ll get a lot meaner,” he warned you before he finally got what he wanted. Your squirt drizzled down on the floor as the intensity caused a scream to erupt from your form, “there you go, fuck,” he groaned as he watched your pussy gush around his girth, “that’s it,” before the way your cunt clambered down around him caused him to let go as well, “shit,” and pump you full of his cum. 

Rafe pressed a peck to your forehead before he pulled out of your warmth and you breathlessly glanced down to watch as his hot load began to leak out of your quivering hole. 

“Alright, baby,” he exhaled and then uttered words that caused a shiver to trickle down your spine, “foreplay’s over. I think you’re ready for your punishment now.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[prythianpages]

Stuck | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader | not much of a summary bc this is a small drabble inspired by Sydney Rose's We Hug Now

warnings: angst, mentions of break up

a/n: I was in the mood to write something angsty & ever since this song popped up on my tiktok fyp, it's been in an endless loop in my head.

Eris turned the small charm over in his fingers, the wood warmed from being tucked in his palm for too long. It was a tiny, crudely shaped hound you had carved from dark wood. You had sworn it was a lucky charm, insisting he carry it with him.

It was ridiculous, really.

The edges were uneven, the legs a little too short. The figurine did not come even close to the beauty of his hounds.

He had wanted to refuse, to toss it back and tell you he didn’t need silly, little charms. But you had been so happy to show it to him, your eyes shining bright and filled with something softer than he deserved. So he had kept it, shoving it deep into his pocket the night he left for a mission, telling himself it was just to humor you. 

And yet, here he was. Years after you had gifted it to him. Turning it over in his hands like it was something precious, a rare jewel. And to Eris, it truly was.

Because what once had been a silly little charm was now the last piece of you he had left. 

Did you even remember it? Did you even remember him?

Eris clenched his fist around the hound. Not harsh enough to break but enough to feel the jagged edges bite into his palm. He bet you were happy. Bet you had found the life you always spoke of, gotten everything you wanted.

You weren’t haunted by the ghost of laughter. You didn’t wake in the dead of night expecting to find someone beside you, only to be met with cold sheets. You weren’t trapped in a palace that felt emptier with every passing day.

You weren’t stuck here, like him.

You most likely found a husband, already making plans to start the family you wanted. Perhaps even opened that tea shop you always spoke of.

Eris wanted that for you, wanted you to have all the things you dreamed of. The things he could not give you, given his current circumstances. He really did.

But the thought of another man standing at your side, of children with his eyes instead of Eris’s, left something gaping and hollow inside him.

Because you had been his. His mate.

And he had never even told you.

But it didn’t matter, did it? Because he is sure you moved on, still oblivious to the strings of fate that tied you to him. What you had—what he burned and reduced to ashes—was nothing more than a closed chapter to you. A small moment in the grand story of your life.

But when he lost you, the world ended for him.

a/n: I’m trying to get out of my writer's block by just writing whatever comes to mind. But I do have another drabble/angsty Eris piece that centers around reader’s POV & you can read about it here.

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith, @xadenswhore

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Loves

Dad!Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Mom!Atreides!reader

Summary in bullet points:

Your and Feyd’s four-year-old son is sweet like you but has a little love for violence like his father

Feyd gives your son his first blade

Feyd is soft for his family (I just think being in love and having a family would alter this psycho man’s brain chemistry a bit)

Notes: same Feyd x reader from The Harkonnen’s Sweet Thing and The Harkonnen’s Claim. 

Warnings: a half-psycho half-sweet little boy, mention of blood and injury, mention of pregnancy.

Words: 1500

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

Your son contains a sweetness. ‘Caladan Sweetness’ you call it, because your home planet was where your sweetness was born into you. Your father, the beauty of your home, the oceans and the fields bloomed you into the soft, sweet thing that your husband loves. And though your son has never seen the world you come from, that sweetness runs through his veins. His smile, his laugh, his power to draw those around him out of their Harkonnen-built shells—that all comes from you. 

But at the same time, he is no less like his father. He adapts rather quickly to his surroundings. He has a natural curiosity for weaponry and blood and how one brings about the other. He does not hate the feel of a heart beating its final beat in his little hand—a feeling his father expressed would be better experienced young, and was done so after the slaughtering of a prisoner in front of the boy's eyes. Feyd had cracked open the prisoner's chest, taken his son by the hand, and guided his fingers into the open wound with the instruction to keep them wrapped around the organ until it no longer moved. You remember his eyes that day—round as saucers and sprinkled with excitement as he looked up at his father who ruffled his hair with a grin on his face. 

He truly is a combination of you both; such beautiful balance has already taken shape in a tiny body. He will be a warrior built and molded by his desire to understand everything his father has to teach him. And yet, he will be gentle where necessary; you hope, one day, with a wife and children of his own. But it’ll be long before that day comes. 

Then again, in some ways, he is growing so fast. For you, it could have been yesterday that you were pushing him out of your womb as your husband held your hand and kissed your forehead. At four years old, you still see him as your baby, but you acknowledge that Harkonnen blood ripens faster than the average child, and he has already begun to show signs of the man your brother prophesized him to be: one of the strongest alive; stronger even than his father. 

That is why you’ve allowed Feyd to pace your son’s training—it’s his area of expertise. It is their bond, and you don’t interfere in those moments, opting to stay just out of sight. 

“You're old enough now to have your own blade,” you hear your husband tell your son from your hidden spot around the corner. 

You can’t hold back your smile at your son's uncontained curiosity as Feyd pulls the knife out from behind his back and presents it to the boy. It balances perfectly on Feyd’s palm as tiny hands reach up. Your son pauses, but when Feyd gives an encouraging nod, he plucks it from his father’s hand. 

It couldn’t be a better fit. Not too long or heavy for his hand, but not too short or light. It’s a good starting blade to prepare him for the weapons that will grow in size as he does. 

“You will be training with me every day from now on,” Feyd tells him.

The boy looks up from the knife to meet his father’s eyes. “So I can get strong like you, Daddy?”

“Stronger than me.”

Your son giggles, a wide grin breaking open his face. “No one's stronger than you!”

Feyd's features soften as he pats his boy's cheek. “You will be.”

“Will I be strong enough to kill Uncle Paul for stealing me and Mommy from you?”

You almost snort as you roll your eyes. Of course, Feyd told him the story. It was only a matter of time before he sat him down and explained the tale of your half-brother killing—or almost killing—Feyd in front of you, then holding you hostage upon finding out Feyd was still alive and demanding you be returned to him. In exchange for you and the baby he discovered you were pregnant with, Feyd swore loyalty to your brother. But your husband will not allow his bloodline to continue for generations under the thumb of Paul Atreides. And that starts with your son. 

Feyd chuckles. “You will be strong enough to destroy your uncle and everything he loves.”

Finally making your presence known, you edge around the corner and lean against the wall. When Feyd sees you, so too does your son, and knowing the boy’s next move, Feyd takes the small blade from the even smaller hand.

“Mommy, I'm going to kill Uncle Paul!” he says joyfully as he rushes over and slams into your legs. “And everything he loves!”

“I heard!” you reply, grinning as you crouch down to his level and take hold of his hands. “But you know what? Little na-Barons who wish to take revenge on their uncles must first get a good night's sleep.”  

“Ok!”

“I'll come check on you in a minute,” you promise him before kissing his cheek and sending him on his way. Your eyes follow him running down the hall until he’s safely behind the door of his bedroom. 

Turning back to your husband and walking to his side, you say, “You told him.”

The tip of the blade pushes into his pointer finger as he lazily twirls the small weapon. “At his age, he should know who his enemies are.”

You slip between his muscled body and the table in the center of the common room where he sets down your son’s knife. With a closed-mouth smile, you hum. “And how did you start that conversation? ‘Uncle Paul made Mommy sad and Daddy mad’?”

“Something like that,” he confirms, leaning into you. His hands brace on the table, one arm at either side of your hips as he seals his lips to yours. 

Feyd’s mouth moves at a slow, hypnotic rhythm but with an intense pressure that’s glazed in possessiveness. You can taste it. That ownership. That authority. He may not always fuck you like you belong to him—sometimes it’s your turn to remind him that he’s yours—but his kisses have never been anything short of claiming. Gentle or rough, slow or frenzied, short or long enough to make you forget what world you’re in, a kiss from your husband ends with the reassurance that he wants you, he loves you, and he won’t ever let you go. 

His hands move to your neck, thumbs pressing into the curve of your jaw to hold your head still and you moan from his cool fingers soothing flushed skin. Your lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. It plays with yours and then retreats. Teeth sink into your bottom lip, lightly tugging before he pulls back to rest his forehead against yours. 

“How's our other one?” he asks as a knuckle draws a line from your jaw to your neck to your cleavage. His eyes follow as it continues past the neckline of your dress and down your sternum, stopping at your stomach where his fingers splay wide. His eyes flick up to yours.

“Strong…like you,” you say, placing your hand over his. “...and like him.”

Your husband nods, exhaling a light sigh of relief. “Did they tell you?”

You smile. “They think it's a girl,” you answer. 

A few thumps of your heart pass as you await his reaction, but then Feyd smiles with you.

---

@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t @midnight-serendipity @minedofmoria @aoi-targaryen

[cheol-e-kat]

Hi! I love your works! For the bingo list can I request monster with cheol? I loved the mingyu one a lot

Thank you! 🫶🏻

so demon!cheol is maybe a bit different, but i hope you like him - he needs his own long fic tbh

♡ kat

bingo squares: monster

pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

genres: monster!seungchoel, demon!seungcheol, magic au, fluff, dark themes (they can both exist)

summary: y/n is stuck with the most useless demon to exist until he suddenly makes himself very useful

word count: 2.9k

warnings: below cut

monster fucking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cum eating, monster dick, breeding kink if you squint, eggs (iykyk), implied impregnation

having your own demon was largely useless. at least if that demon was seungcheol. his most useful feature was running errands - like picking up milk and cat litter. 

but the rest of the time, he mainly spent lounging around your apartment, usually reading whatever books were around. in fact, your book collection seemed to have suspiciously grown of its own accord since you ‘inherited’ him from your grandmother. you weren’t sure where he was getting them from, since half of them were in an italian dialect that your phone couldn’t recognize, but there they were, taking up space, just like seungcheol. 

having never really met your family, it had been shocking to have a demon show up and knock on your door, to say the least. in fact, you treated him like you would treat any psycho off the street and slammed the door in his face and locked all the locks. 

except, surprise, he could basically walk through walls. which he did whenever it was least convenient, like when you were showering and he had some random deep thoughts to share about a news article (you canceled your new yorker subscription because of him). 

or when you were napping, and he wanted to play animal crossing. 

or when you were dead asleep and he wanted to play the cat restaurant game on your phone. 

he refused to have his own phone. because yours existed, and he only liked the cat game and sometimes wordle when he was “acutely bored.”

you often wondered if killing him had any consequences. especially since you had already tried breaking whatever it was that bound you together, but that apparently involved some ancient-level crap beyond burning sage, so you had given up. but would you be prosecuted for slaying a demonic creature, you wondered, but decided he would probably just show back up, no worse for wear.

not to mention, you had been in a fairly foul mood lately. very snappy with everyone - you scowled at a baby for fuck’s sake. so you decided you needed a little personal reset, and that meant getting the worst excuse for a demon ever, out of your hair, at least for an hour if you were lucky. 

your plan was simple - give him an insane amount of errands that required him to roughly hit up every borough of the city. you made a tediously long list of things you needed - you fully knew that besides refusing a cell phone, he refused to use his abilities (whatever those were) to get around the city, not to mention he said he found the subway “enlightening.”  you rolled your eyes, making detailed notes of exactly which market he needed to visit for which item. 

in all reality - if someone really questioned you, you would have to admit that, despite how obnoxious you often found seungcheol, he was insanely handsome and maybe intimidating - at least based on the way people literally moved out of his way on the sidewalk, which was perhaps his most impressive trait. 

but he was also persistently around you and with zero boundaries, which meant you couldn’t just invite someone over for a quick fuck. you needed some time to do it yourself, maybe even a few times. and then you would feel like mary-sunshine again. but you needed him out of the apartment! especially since he had been showing up in your dreams lately, which was really fucking with your mind. his handsome face invading your dreams had to end.

but even as you were making your insane list, you could feel him hovering around you. when you felt his chin rest on your shoulder, you wanted to elbow him in the stomach. 

“why do you want mixed olives from there? there are already olives here, and you hate those,” he commented, his husky voice way too close for comfort. 

“some recipe i found,” you mumbled. 

“but you can’t stand them,” he tried again.

you shrugged, and he only leaned closer, his arms gently encircling you as he read your jumbled handwriting. you were mostly used to this too. he had an infuriating way of getting very close, sometimes without you even noticing. you thought it was solely to annoy, but no, he genuinely didn’t seem to understand why you constantly tried to have space from him - and made up for it by crowding you even more when any opportunity presented itself. it was a losing battle. 

you had given up explaining to him how your bed was yours because he insisted on napping there after watching whatever daytime tv show he was suddenly obsessed with - and that was months ago. 

but today, he would be out of the apartment. you were making sure of that. no random appearances. just peace and quiet and you and your vibrator doing god’s work. 

you finished the list and turned, pressing it to his chest, “if you wouldn’t mind doing the one thing you do for me.”

he watched you for a moment like he was on the verge offering some pithy response, but he just sighed and took the list. and then proceeded to take ages to actually leave. you stood watching him fumble around for who knows what, tapping your foot impatiently because you hadn’t considered that even him leaving could be such a production. 

“stop glaring at me,” he called out, “i’m leaving, okay - to run all of your precious errands,” he was annoyed, but at least he was walking out the door. you ran behind him to lock it. 

and finally, you could get down to business. you practically ran to your room and dove under the covers. this was a timed thing - you couldn’t waste a second. 

you pulled up some very dubious porn, but whatever - it was for the greater good. you didn’t bother taking off your sleep shorts and underwear, just shoving your vibrator down your pants where you needed it most and proceeding as required - lube wasn’t a luxury you could afford in the race to have several uninterrupted orgasms. 

but no - no, no, no - you’re brain froze. you had felt the small shift next to you in bed. your eyes went wide, then squeezed shut as you tried to stop everything you set in motion. you were dreaming - this wasn’t real.

but no, it was real - because he spoke. “when you’re finished can i have your phone?” he whispered, he was lying on what you begrudgingly acknowledged was his side of the bed. 

how was it that this was the one time you wanted him out of the house, and he basically made everything appear from thin air all because he wanted to play the cat restaurant game. on your phone, which was in your bedroom. with you. playing the kind of porn you would rather die than confess to watching, while you were furiously trying to stimulate your clit. 

you froze completely - you were mortified, but also how was this your life, you wondered. 

he poked you cheek gently, “y/n? i need to check my tips jar - it maxes out at 40,00 little fish monies.”

“seungcheol, fuck off,” you whispered with every ounce of civility you could muster. 

“you’re almost finished - just like a minute or so and then i check my game,” he trailed off. 

you thought you might combust, turning to look at him, “I’LL BE FINISHED IN A MINUTE? no! and you know what? no more cat cafe!”

“cat restaurant, actually,” he corrected, smiling - dimples on full display. 

“i don’t fucking care! no more cat-based food games on my phone, i’m deleting them and your games account!”

“noooo,” he whined, as you navigated to the games hub - he was suddenly straddling you and fighting for your phone - he could pry it from your semi-warm dead hand as far as you were concerned. 

you wrestled back and forth until he finally had you trapped under him using what felt like more than his body weight.

“don’t you dare delete my account,” you were surprised to see his eyes were a glowing deep blue instead of their normal dark-coffee brown, “do you know how many ads i’ve sat through to expand my cat empire, y/n - i finally have the little spa area open,” he sounded so serious and simultaneously so ridiculous. 

you glared at him, trying to focus all your rage on him for ruining your afternoon of solo sex. 

he stared at you for a moment, swallowing hard - “look what if i help you with your endeavor, and then you won’t need to do anything permanent,” he offered, his eyes drifting towards your phone, which only made you tighten your grip on it.

“helping me with my problem would be you disappearing forever,” your voice was more acidic than you meant it to be. 

he immediately pouted, “look, it’s a genuine offer, okay - i do have experience,” he stared at you with big, round eyes that could unquestionably peer into your soul. 

you groaned dramatically and tried to pull out of his grip, which was completely useless. “what is it with you and the cat games?” you asked out of pure exasperation. you had already given up on an orgasm, having switched your vibrator off almost the instant you heard his voice. 

“you know, you sit down and watch happy little animals sit and eat and eat and sit - you just get to turn your brain off for a bit, it’s nice,” he shrugged, still watching you. 

you stared at him for a moment, finally sighing, “just get out, okay, let me change and you can have your game back,” you folded like a sad, wet paper bag. 

you closed your eyes, waiting for him to let go of you and leave. instead, you felt a small kiss on your cheek. your eyes snapped open to find him still leaning over you. 

“let me help,” he said, voice gentle, his hands squeezing your wrists softly. 

you wanted to smack him - him and his stupid cute face. why couldn’t he just actually go to the stores like you had asked, you wondered to yourself.

he rolled his eyes, leaning down to whisper, “because i know when you’re up to something,” his lips brushed your skin. 

it was genuinely trying on your mental faculties that he knew what you were thinking. literally, every thought. it was why he never even asked for the passcode for your phone. and why he regularly answered questions you never verbalized. 

“so then you could have just let me have time to myself,” you pouted. 

“mmmh, but i can be so much more helpful with this little project, instead of going to get the olives i know you don’t like from a store across town in the rain,” he whispered and nipped teasingly at your earlobe. 

you shivered from the contact. you tried to make your mind blank, not exactly wanting him to know how good it already felt to be under him - he already knew too much about you. and this would only serve as reasons for him to be clingier. 

“maybe i don’t want help,” you whispered, your anger growing at the intrusion. 

he nuzzled closer, “i don’t think that’s true since you keep drafting messages to the guy you met a few weeks ago,” he whispered, kissing your throat gently. 

you felt the gentle pressure of his teeth on your throat and whined softly - the feeling was indescribably good. he purred, knowing you liked it, as his lips teased lower. his tongue marking your throat and collarbones. he worked his hands under your shirt, leaning up enough to pull it over your head. the way he gazed down at you was unexpected - his normal apathy was gone. his hands went to your breasts, massaging them, his thumbs brushing over your already pebbled nipples - he was gentle, taking his time teasing you before he dipped his head down, his lips making contact with the sensitive skin of your tits. you felt his teeth graze your skin as he sucked one nipple and then the other. 

he finally leaned up, looking a bit disheveled, and licking his lips, “i want them full,” he murmured. you weren’t completely sure what he meant, but you didn’t really care either as he made his way down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. he pulled off your sleep shorts and underwear and lifted your hips so he could easily work his tongue between your slick folds, finding your clit almost immediately. 

the way he sucked the bud between his lips was mind numbing - you couldn’t help reaching down to grab his hair roughly, wanting him to know what you were feeling in the moment. your whines and moans weren’t enough, he needed to feel you gripping his long hair and pulling it every time his tongue made the most perfect contact. and when he added his fingers, you entered another plane of existence, pulling his hair, arching off the bed and moaning his name in a way that should have been embarrassing. it was like you had never been properly touched by a man in your life, and you were finally learning what pleasure was. 

you came quickly - your cum rushing past his fingers, which he seemed to enjoy based on the way he licked into you, lapping at your opening. you could feel his tongue working impossibly deep inside you. you knew without asking that he wanted you to come again. 

his fingers worked your clit while his tongue was still exploring your sticky walls, and you felt it again, the sweetest pleasure flowing through every part of your body. he leaned up, licking his lips, giving your pussy a gentle smack. 

“feeling better?” he asked, almost sounding sincere. 

you sighed and nodded, “much better.” you didn’t move, but found yourself wondering if he was as god at fucking as he was at eating pussy. 

he grinned, his hands tracing over your hips and stomach, “is that what you want now - my cock stretching you open,” he glanced up, watching you for a second before glancing back down. 

you could feel the way his fingers were carefully prodding your stomach - it was almost like he was looking for something. 

“is your dick as good as i think?”

he nodded without looking up, “you won’t even know what to compare it to,” he grinned, voice smug. 

you didn’t say anything - you just watched him undress, noiticing how good he looked, and that, at least from your angle, his cock looked fairly average. but then he was between your legs again, kissing you, licking into you, “you have no idea how perfect you are,” he whispered, his fingers still working to prep you. 

you had thought it often enough, and you knew he knew, but you found yourself confessing how gorgeous you found him. he smiled, kissing you just as he began sliding his cock inside you, “let me make you full,” he whispered when he started to move. you nodded, not caring what he did because you knew how perfect it felt. 

you were sure you were even slicker than before as he began moving inside you, but even though you could feel how thick and long his cock was, you knew you were taking every inch of him without any pain. it didn’t matter how brutal his pace was either, you only felt the pleasure of him stretching you wider than you thought possible - going deeper than you knew was possible - you were sure you could feel his dick slamming into your stomach with every thrust. you wanted to feel how deep inside you he was, but he kept pinning your hands back against the mattress, thrusting harder.

“i’m exactly as deep as you think, pet,” he groaned, snapping his hips, “i can go even further if you want.”

you laughed softly, even as you heard the deep, shivering moan that came from him. you felt the odd sensation of something entering you - not his cock or fingers, something cool and almost heavy - you orgasmed, seeing bright lights flashing behind your eyelids as you felt the same sensation, something entering you - something smooth and round going deep inside and clinging to your inner walls. 

“you’re really doing it?” you managed to whisper. 

he moaned, “told you i want you full,” he whispered, voice ragged as you felt another object pumped into your cunt, “want to breed you full, pet - make you mine forever,” he whispered, finally pulling out. 

you stayed in his arms after, enjoying how safe you felt.

“i’ve never given them to anyone before,” he whispered, kissing your temple.

you fell asleep cradled against him, your cervix full of his precious eggs. 

a/n: i love writing cheol, especially cheol in magical aus because low key i had this idea and now i want to know way more about him

♡ kat

bingo card master list

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[makeitmakesomesense]

Hard To Find

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This is from a ridiculous prompt from a lovely friend. It uses a lovely prompt from @taylorswiftmicrofic for the 14th of January, which is 'psycho'.

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You received a letter. It was simple, if a little formal. It had one request. 

You showed up obediently at the Shawarma place the very next day. Your heart in your mouth at the thought of seeing her. Two men walked in at the same time as you. You noticed the same letter clutched in the hand of the taller one. It made you nervous. 

You looked back down at the name signed on your letter. It steadied you. You would go anywhere for Natasha. You always would. If she wanted you. You’d be there.

The dimly lit establishment was empty. Only a young, blonde woman sat inside at one of the central tables.

The man to your right smiled as he looked around.

‘Wow.’ He said softly. ‘This place takes me back.’

The other man was too busy staring at the blonde woman. 

‘She found you.’ He muttered at last in a tight voice. ‘I told her it was psycho to go back there. But she did.’

The woman nodded simply. She seemed young, maybe in her mid-twenties. She had an unnerving composure, a perfectly controlled casualness. 

She reminded you of Natasha. Not in looks. But in the way she held herself. Not Natasha’s daughter. But definitely Natasha’s someone. 

Her long blonde braid was intricate and beautiful. It ached with the familiarity of someone who wasn’t here.

‘I know you were all expecting my sister.’ The woman said calmly. ‘She’s still on the run.’ 

Her eyes flickered between the men on either side of you. They shifted uncomfortably.

‘If she doesn’t want to be found -’ The bearded man started uncomfortably. 

The blonde woman rolled her eyes. Her petulance was undermined as she played nervously with the rings that decorated her fingers.

‘Of course, she wants to be found. Everyone wants to be found.’

The woman’s gaze turned to you. You felt the intensity behind her eyes. You met it readily. 

‘Just by the right people.’ The woman finished softly, her stare continuing to pierce you. ‘I’m Yelena.’ She introduced herself at last. 

You cleared your throat and answered with your own name. 

Steve Rogers introduced himself and then Clint Barton did. You only nodded as you processed their names. It felt a lifetime ago when she’d told you about them. 

You remembered Natasha, cross-legged on your living room floor. Eating take out chinese food and doing impressions of the other Avengers. The men she laughed at so easily that you knew she must love them,

‘You’re the closest thing she has to family.’ Yelena echoed, almost accusingly. ‘You are the people she loves the most.’ She paused and gave a dangerous smile. ‘Apart from me of course.’

‘I’m retired.’ Clint was the first to speak. His shoulders hung with a heavy kind of fatigue. A guilt that comes from inaction. ‘I can’t find her now. It would compromise my family. I thought Tash-’

Yelena cut him off. 

‘Steve?’ 

You turned too, to look at the man on your right. You wondered how he’d managed to sneak successfully into the center of New York city. His name was on all the wanted lists right next to Natasha’s. And, now that you were looking at him, he was not the kind of man who could go unnoticed in a crowd. 

Steve smiled with inherent politeness.

‘I’ve found a safe place that might work.’ He offered carefully. ‘I’m staying there with some friends now. Natasha would be more than welcome -’

This time it was you who cut him off. 

‘Why isn’t she already there then?’ You felt yourself bite out. A thousand sleepless nights worrying about Natasha suddenly rearing up angrily. ‘If you’ve found a safe place to hide with your friends. Why isn’t she already there?’

Yelena hummed an approving noise and your focus turned back to her. She nodded at you in encouragement.

You felt a longing surge up inside you. The impossible one. The one you rarely let yourself feel. 

‘Of course.’ You choked out. ‘Of course. I’d love to see her. But. After everything that happened between us. I don’t think she’d ever want to see me again.

Your confession rang in the air and you felt the urge to cringe from it. The things that you couldn’t undo.

‘Natasha told me, don't worry. Let me worry about that.’ Yelena assured you, standing up from the table and stretching out her arms leisurely.

‘You two can go.’ She dismissed the men off-handedly, ignoring them with obvious disgust. 

Yelena offered you her hand to shake. You took it readily. You realised abstractly that this all might be a trap. There were a million and one variables that you hadn’t considered. 

You had a life. Not a very interesting one, admittedly. But you had a job, and a cramped apartment and two annoying roommates. 

You had a heart that was finally almost ready to heal. 

The restaurant door slammed shut behind Clint and Steve. You flinched, remembering the echo of another time.

After a moment, Yelena reached under the collar of her shirt. She pulled out the silver arrow charm on her necklace, letting it rest on full display again. 

You stared at it for a long moment. You realised the answer was simple. You loved Natasha. 

You were nothing like an Avenger. You knew nothing about survival. You knew her smile in the mornings. You knew the weight of her head on your shoulder. You knew the touch of her lips on your skin.  

Yelena watched the expression on your face. She patted you on the shoulder.

‘Come on. You look like you need an adventure.’ She encouraged simply as she walked you to the back door. 

Together, you climbed the rickety fire escape upwards. 

When you reached the roof, Yelena made a grand gesture towards the quinjet that she’d clearly landed there earlier. 

‘I’m glad that didn’t take long.’ She muttered as she unlocked the jet and welcomed you aboard. ‘I could not figure out the right button to make it invisible.’

You waited nervously in the middle of the jet as Yelena programmed in a flight path. You suddenly felt very out of control.

Once you were in the air, Yelena turned back to you. She grabbed your hand and pulled you down with her as she sat cross-legged on the hard ground. 

‘So, tell me what happened with you and my sister.’ She directed calmly.

You promptly exploded. You jumped immediately back to your feet.

‘You don’t actually know?!’ You hissed, rubbing your hand through your hair as you started to pace the small room.

Yelena waved her hand casually in the air. ‘Not specifics. Just that it didn’t work out.’

‘Oh my god.’ You felt yourself start to hyperventilate. Your hand covered your chest. ‘We need to turn this jet around. Oh my god.’

Yelena hopped back to her feet, grumbling a little about assassins having stiff joints. She grabbed your arms and forced your attention back to her.

‘Calm down.’ She ordered. 

You noticed abruptly that she was smaller than Natasha. You wondered vaguely how it was possible for her to be even scarier. 

‘It can’t be that bad.’ Yelena determined in a calming voice. ‘It really can’t. Just tell me what happened.’

‘We had a fight.’ You blurted out suddenly. Yelena’s grip loosened and she nodded for you to continue. ‘It was my fault. I told her she wasn’t letting herself be happy. Always putting other people first. Never trusting the people who cared about her.’

You gulped, feeling the burn of threatening tears. 

‘She, uh-. She left and it was bad. I thought we’d broken up. I was sure we had.’

You felt Yelena tense in front of you.

‘It had been nearly a month of radio silence.’ You whispered now. ‘And then Natasha showed up on my doorstep unannounced. She’d been called out on an undercover mission. That's why she hadn't answered. She hadn’t been ignoring me.’ 

You brushed a tear from your cheek. Loathing yourself as you repeated the story.

‘I was halfway through getting ready for a date when I answered the door. She took one look at me and she just knew.’

Yelena stared at you for a long moment. Her brow furrowed as she lost herself in thought. 

‘Okay.’ She said at last. ‘You’re right. Natasha might kill us both.’

.

The quinjet landed in a small clearing in the middle of the Norwegian forest. Yelena hurried you out and turned you in the direction of a lone trailer in the near distance. She patted you on the back and it didn’t reassure you. 

You looked back to Yelena, trapped between the longing and the fear. 

Yelena’s gaze turned sad. She gave you a small shrug.

‘You’ve got to try.’ She told you.

You nodded, turning back to look at the trailer. She was right.

.

You knocked on the trailer door. You were shaking. 

There was a noise inside the trailer and then silence. 

After a moment, the door opened. Natasha Romanoff stood there, a gun in hand. Her long red hair framed her face messily. Her dark, oversized hoodie made her look smaller than you remembered.

You watched her mouth fall open. 

You felt the longing inside you surge into its own creature. You tried to smile.

‘Hi -’  You started nervously. 

Natasha interrupted you with a sudden hug. You staggered slightly at the force of it. Her arms wrapped around you tightly. You swallowed the choking realisation that you were wanted.

Abruptly she pulled back. Her green eyes scanned yours worriedly. Her hand cupped your face, desperately tentative. 

‘Are you real?’ 

‘Yes.’ You felt the tears running down your cheeks. ‘And I’m so glad you’re safe.’

Natasha started crying too. She reached out shakily to find one of your hands. You watched her press her lips to your knuckles. You felt the warm breath on your skin as she found the courage to speak.

‘I thought you'd moved on. That day, when I came back.’ Natasha whispered at last. ‘I don’t. I never. I never wanted to get in the way.’

The fragments of your barely glued together heart fell apart again. 

You leaned forward and kissed Natasha carefully. Slow and lingering, it felt like coming home.

You let the aching longing become what it had always been. You pressed your forehead against Natasha’s. You listened to the sound of her shallow breaths. She squeezed your hand tightly. 

‘Natasha, you can't be in the way.’ You promised desperately. ‘You're everything I wanted to find.’

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Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

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[dameronspector]

Philophobia

(PART 1)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Stark!Reader

Summary: Devastated by your father’s death and cutting yourself off from everyone, you are on the road of recovery, accompanied by your uncle Rhodey. After Rhodey has finally convinced you, you agree to reunite with Sam Wilson and help him with his tech. He introduces you to another techie nerd, named Joaquin Torres, for the first time. Will you let your phobia get in the way and push away your new found family and this beautiful boy? Or will you get better and let yourself be loved once again?

Warnings: Mentions of Death and Depression/Depressive episodes, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Abuse by a parent (not Tony), Weight loss due to stress, Nightmares, Some cursing, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Rogers Slander- please don’t read this if that’s not something you’re looking for, Reader is sassy and a bit reserved because of The incident and because they’re a Stark, Reader has some phobias, Found family, also there’s a few references and hidden plots in this. 😁 (please keep in mind that I wrote this from my point of view as a south asian.)

Author’s note: I probably went overboard and this is very long + very self indulgent….but tony stark is the father who raised me and joaquin torres is my boyfriend so i Had to do this. ☺️ also lots of found family content with Rhodey, Sam and Bucky. Set around the time of TFATWS. Please let me know if there’s any changes to be made if I have written anything wrong.

series masterlist

Moving back to New York was extremely hard and painful for you ever since your dad passed away. That was the city that you were born and raised in and it had the ghosts of your father’s and family’s moments everywhere. But you told Pepper that you couldn’t handle living in that cabin anymore because 1. you were going stir crazy since you loved the hustle bustle of a city and 2. the depressive episodes were more frequent than ever.

You’d think living in your family cabin that has your father’s memories written across every wall would help you…but you’re a Stark. Ignoring your own problems and running away from emotions is kind of your specialty. Hereditary, even.

Pepper, bless her heart, told you that she’s happy you are trying to get back your life back on track and that she would always be there for you. Even if you called her Pepper, she’s always been your Mother.

Hardest part of it all was saying goodbye to Morgan. Little Morgan who was so attached to you and vice versa. She was too young to even process her father’s death, how was she supposed to understand why her elder sibling was never leaving their room? And now that same sibling was going too far away from their house. It took Pepper, Happy and you to console Morgan and she was finally ready to send you off–only with a (pinky) promise of visiting her during holidays.

Rhodey and Happy helped you settle in your newest house- a penthouse in manhattan that your dad left behind for you. That was 3 months ago. Now, fully settled in your new space, you’ve decided to restart college to finish your degree that was put on pause because of a giant purple psycho. You had decided you will stop the whole Avenger shit the moment you lost your dad. You needed to leave that life behind in order to move on, and what better than being filthy educated and eventually finding a normal job?

Well, let’s just say it didn’t go as planned.

I mean, really, were you expecting to just magically heal from the most traumatic time of your life in three months, with no therapy or contact from your family and friends?

Panic attacks are like your best friends. The other day you had a panic attack because you found a scarf that was gifted to you by your dad. Embarrassing, really.

Nightmares are something you have been walking hand-in-hand with since your dad was kidnapped and you were just a little kid. But now, every night you close your eyes and you see your father’s lifeless eyes staring back into yours.So it’s not surprising that you have become insomniac as well.

Overall, you were continuing the Stark legacy of being severely mentally ill but not doing anything to help it or accepting any help. The only difference was that you chose NOT to drink until you blacked out because after watching your dad do that as a kid, you developed a strong distaste for any type of alcohol. It was so bad, that you got diagnosed with dispophobia– a persistent fear of drinking alcohol. It’s real, look it up.

You chose the other option—pushing everyone around you away until you wallowed in your misery, loneliness and sorrows.

This behaviour of yours was constantly stressing Pepper, Rhodey and Happy out. All three of them did their best to help you and make you socialise, but everytime they approached, you either ignored their calls and messages or told them you were busy (by busy you meant that you were tinkering on your father’s old suits that you moved to your apartment, but you didn’t tell them that.)

Even FRIDAY tried giving them updates on your well-being but you had threatened the AI to not “leak” any of your “information”. This was giving the three of them a major déjà vu. Eventually, they had enough and Rhodey came to your house one day because he knew he’s the only one who can call out your shit. He kinda had a Phd in tackling the Stark family’s issues.

“Look kid, it’s been 3 months. You haven’t bothered to call or text any of us. We didn’t even know if you were alive since you have banned FRIDAY from reporting anything to us as well. Can you please spend one evening with us for a dinner? Hell, if not all of us,then atleast meet up with Morgan?”, Rhodey said firmly with his eyebrows furrowed and arms folded tightly around his chest, leaning on your kitchen island.

You were making your dinner when he decided to come over. Trying your best to be nonchalant, you kept stirring the soup with your back to him, and scoffed, “You sound exactly like dad sometimes.”

Rhodey closed his eyes in frustration. “That’s not important right now. You’re doing the same thing that Tony did when he was feeling all these… emotions. Please, stop this kiddo. You’ve got all of us. Always. Just reach out once and we’ll be there to catch you”, he replied in a soft tone.

You took a deep breath and he saw your shoulders go up and down. You stopped stirring the soup, turned the gas off and turned around to face him.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, making yourself smaller, and intently focused on your shoes to avoid meeting his eyes.

“There’s nothing to ask. I’ve already told you I will be starting college soon. I’ll keep myself productive and occupied. It’ll be alright, don’t worry about me”, you say, your voice scratchy after not using it for a long time.

Rhodey observed you with his sharp gaze. You knew you were screwed the moment you saw Rhodey at the door because he could read you like a book. Honestly, it was extremely intimidating but you will never admit that to his face. He’s been around for your whole life- right from your birth. He knew you like you were his own child.

“FRIDAY, activate babysitter protocol”, he said, his voice stern.

You snapped your gaze up from your shoes to stare at him in confusion.

“On it Mr. Rhodes”, FRIDAY replied.

“What the hell is this?”, you replied narrowing your eyes at him.

“I know you blocked FRIDAY from telling us anything about you. Did you know Tony had an emergency protocol built in so that if there’s anything that went wrong while you were alone, FRIDAY would update him?”, Rhodey replied nonchalantly.

You widened your eyes and immediately teared up on hearing how protective your dad was over you. You were too tired to fight back so you just shut your eyes and wrapped your arms around your body tighter.

“FRIDAY, give me a proper run down of the kid’s activities and schedule in this past month. Including their health”, Rhodey asked the AI while observing you closely.

“OK sir. In this month, they have stepped out of the house only once for buying groceries. The rest of the month they’ve been at home, fixing Mr Stark’s suits”, FRIDAY finished.

At this, Rhodey’s eyes widened. “Tony’s suits? How did you even get these suits?” “They sneaked in the suits 2 months ago, Sir”, Rhodey’s eyes snapped back to yours. 2 months ago- right after you moved in. The suits were at the new compound and they were heavily guarded.

They should’ve known better because did they really expect you, a genius like your father, to not figure out how to hack the systems? It was a cakewalk for you.

You scrunched your eyes in shame and bowed your head. “Kid….”, he sighed.

“Tell me about their health, FRI”, Rhodey asked in a pained voice.

“They’ve had panic attacks almost every week. I suggested taking medication or visiting the therapist, but my requests were ignored. I’ve also observed a spike in their heartbeat everytime a loud noise is heard. They have nightmares regularly due to which they have stopped sleeping altogether. All the stress has made them lose weight, their appetite has lessened and has made them more irritable and unpredictable”, FRIDAY finished (snitched, you think).

Hearing it from someone else made it sound so much worse. You couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down your face.

You were too busy keeping the sobs from coming out of your mouth to notice Rhodey coming closer and wrapping his arms around you. He brought you closer and hugged you tightly and that completely broke you.

You leaned your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso and just sobbed. Rhodey hushed you gently and rubbed your back softly with one of his hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t deal with this, Uncle. Please. I need him back”, you said in between sobs while clutching him tightly and pressing your face into his chest. Rhodey teared up at this and put one of his hands behind your head.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out. I’m so sorry I didn’t visit you sooner. I know what you’re feeling. But I’ve got you now. Please allow me to help you?”, he said weakly.

You let out a shuddering breath and tried to calm yourself down. “Okay. ”, you replied in a weak voice. Rhodey broke the hug before putting his hands on your shoulders and let you wipe your tears. He caressed your head and told you, “We’re gonna get you something to eat first. From tomorrow, we will work on your routine and talk to your therapist about your insomnia and panic attacks. And then, you will be taking lots of rest. No more tinkering on the suits endlessly or skipping meals. We will go on walks and you will have a dinner with us at the cabin soon. That okay?”, he asked gently. You looked up at him and nodded your head yes. “Good. Now, you sit your ass down and Rest. Let me prepare your dinner”, he says while moving around you to get to the stove. “Do you even know how to turn on the stove?”, you say in a stuffy voice while wiping your nose with your sleeve and side eyeing him. He abruptly pauses and turns around. “You’re such a little shit, you know that?”, he says sassily while pointing a finger at you. That brings out a genuine smile from you and you just chuckle before he starts laughing as well. Your smile fades slowly. “Thank you. This means a lot to me,” you reply softly. Both of your eyes start tearing up and he just nods his head before giving you a side hug. “Anything for my favourite Stark”, he says in a shaky voice.

2 Months Later

You and Rhodey fell into a rhythm after that night. He stayed with you for some days and got you checked with your therapist and helped you around the house. He took you out for jogs every morning, made you work out and exercise every day. This made you feel productive and gave you a routine to follow. It also improved your appetite and you started to genuinely enjoy making healthy and filling meals.

You stopped unnecessarily tinkering on the suits and the medicines prescribed by your doctor helped you sleep better. You still had a long way to go but you had finally started stepping out of the house and went to a dinner at the cabin. Happy, Pepper and Morgan were so delighted to see you and they told you how proud they are of you. You just gave all the credit to your uncle Rhodey.

Rhodey had become a major figure in your life lately. He’d always been there for you and your dad but now he was like a teacher and mentor to you. All thanks to him, you could get your life back on track. And he was happy to help you anyways because you were like his own child.

But he’d started to take you to various social events lately and you HATED that. You were always a shy and socially anxious kid (a complete opposite of your father.) So the thought of attending social events where so many people and cameras were present…that was enough to send you into an early grave.

“Rhodey….for the last time. I’m not going with you. What am I even gonna do there? Sit and yawn while all you military and political people make speeches? No thanks”, you said breathlessly and jogged a little ahead of him.

He joined you immediately, huffing and puffing, “First of all.” Huff. “Slow DOWN. Jesus Christ.” Huff. And he stopped while putting his hands on his knees.

“Keep up, lazy! We gotta keep THE War Machine kicking and alive, come on!”, you say while jogging backwards and smiling at him.

When you saw that he was not going to join you, you stopped and jogged over to him. “Lazy, my ass. I’m 60 years old, you little shit”, he said while looking up at you, eyes narrowed and hands still on his knees. Still huffing and puffing.

You chuckled and helped him stand up with your arm around his back and another arm holding his. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You wanna sit down? Might as well drink some water, I’m thirsty.”

He nods his head yes and both of you sit down on a nearby bench and take a breather. You’re quiet for sometime, soaking in the crisp morning air and looking at the water fountain in front of you when Rhodey speaks up.

“I know you hate these events. But, please come to this one. We have a reunion in order, anyways”, he says cheekily while looking at you with that big smile of his plastered on his face.

You turned your head to look at him and raised your eyebrow, “Reunion? With whom?”, you ask skeptically. “Please don’t say Steve Rogers, Rhodey. I swear to god, I will never step foot in this city again”, you say, irritated.

He scoffed, “Nah, don’t worry. That’s never happening. It’s Sam. He’s been telling me that he wants to meet you.”

You observed his face for a second to see if he was being serious. “Sam? Sam Wilson? Why would he want to meet me?”, you asked, confused. Ever since the Sokovia Accords were brought into existence and ever since you sided with your father, Steve and the others didn’t want anything to do with your family. But you didn’t have anything against any of them— well, except for Steve. That was personal.

Even back then, you told your dad that you thought Bucky was innocent and that you want him to forgive Bucky somehow. You never met your grandparents so their accident/murder didn’t affect you. And you especially didn’t give a fuck about your deadbeat grandfather who would abuse your dad, but you felt your dad’s anger was justified as he loved his mom. You didn’t have an issue with Sam either. Not even when Rhodey met with that fatal accident that made him lose his legs. You saw the footage, and Rhodey told you as well, that Sam simply dodged. He didn’t cause the fall, nor did he injure him on purpose. The fall happened because his suit malfunctioned. But since Steve was the glue that was holding them together, they avoided talking to you at all. They were simply being loyal. And we all know how Steve Rogers thanked their loyalty in the end.

You would never forgive him for breaking your dysfunctional-found-family apart by being a selfish asshole and by abandoning your dad when he needed his support the most.

Rhodey shrugged. “Dunno. But he was looking forward to meeting you. He’s the kindest man I know, kid. And I know you don’t hold a grudge against him either. Please, come with me. I promise we will go get some ice cream later”, he said earnestly and smiled.

You let out a deep sigh. “Chocolate chips. Double scoop”, you said and lifted your water bottle to drink to avoid looking at his smug expression.

“Oh, you shall get anything you ask for, your highness”, he said while extravagantly bowing at you.

You just smirked and got back up to jog.

The constant clicking of the cameras was quickly causing a throbbing ache to appear behind your eyes. You were dressed in your formal clothes, presentable as always, and entered the museum arm-in-arm with Rhodey.

After giving a thousand repetitive interviews, half of which Rhodey denied on your behalf, you finally saw the man in question—Sam Wilson. Captain America.

Honestly, you were so proud of and excited for him to take up the mantle. It wasn’t a shock that Steve handed over that shield to Sam. He deserved it.

He saw the two of you and came over to talk. As he came closer, you saw just how shocked he was to see you there.

“Whats up, man? How are you?”, Sam said while shaking hands with Rhodey and bringing him in for a hug, all the while flashing his lovely, tooth-gaped smile.

Rhodey patted his back and broke away from the hug. “The usual. I got a surprise for you”, Rhodey said while putting an arm around your shoulder.

Sam, still surprised, flashed another one of his smiles at you.

“I just can’t believe you’re here. I hope you know how grateful I am”, he said earnestly while putting his hand out to shake yours.

You looked at his hand and shook it. “I’m surprised you wanted to meet me”, you say while smirking at him.

His smile faded after hearing that and he looked at you with a solemn expression.

“Yeah. I’m sorry it took me so long. I-” “Mr. Wilson, it’s your turn to speak.” Sam looked back at the woman and nodded his head at her.

“Uh…I’ll catch up with you after all this is done. Please wait until then?”, Sam turned around and asked you, nervously.

Rhodey looked at you to decipher your reaction. “Okay. I’ll wait. But not for long and not in front of these cameras”, you say coolly.

Sam smiles at you and Rhodey before approaching the stage.

“See? That wasn’t so bad”, Rhodey says while leading you to sit at the front row.

“We’ll see about that— not the front row, Rhodes... It’s like you want me to run away”, you groaned while slowing your pace.

Rhodey just laughs and pats your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll be next to you the whole time. You can even crush my hand if you want to.”

You and Rhodey sat down and watched Sam approach the stage.

Sam looked sharp in his well-fitted suit but something about his expression screamed anxiety.

He began his speech.

“Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered posing stoically”, everyone chuckled at that. You scoffed.

“The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols...are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing...”, he chuckles before picking up the shield and continuing.

“I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up, and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy. But also, we look to the future. So, thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you”, Sam concluded and handed over the shield to the museum security who then put encased it in a glass case. The camera flashes went off.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You knew something was wrong the moment Sam stepped up on the stage. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

You furrowed your eyebrows and turned your head to look at Rhodey.

“Why did he give up the shield?”, you asked confused.

Rhodey solemnly smiled.

“Maybe try talking to Sam about this?”, he explained to you, gently.

You nodded your head in understanding.

Rhodey went over to talk to Sam while you checked out the other exhibits to give them a little privacy.

You ended up looking at Bucky’s exhibit.

They were displaying those clips of him in the 40s, smiling and free of all the pain, and they made your heart clench in sadness and guilt. He deserved better.

“Still can’t believe bionic staring machine was a heartbreaker back then”, you heard Sam’s voice behind you.

You looked at him and smirked.

“As if he’s not a heartbreaker anymore. Those baby blue’s? Could break a grandma’s heart too, which is funny because he would still be older than her”, you joked and looked back at the display.

Sam stood to your right with his hands in his pockets. He laughed at your joke and looked up at the TV displaying Steve and Bucky together.

He let out a sigh and brought his lips together in a thin line.

You looked over to him and studied his profile observed the way he carried tension in his shoulders.

“Penny for your thoughts?”, you asked him gently.

He shut his eyes and looked down, letting out another deep sigh.

“Kid…I’m sorry”, he said, his voice heavy with guilt.

You furrowed your brows.

“For what?”, you asked, genuinely confused.

Sam finally looked up at you with teary eyes. His brows scrunched together.

“Everything. The accords…Rhodey’s acci- injuries. For-for not making an attempt to maintain contact with you, for-”

“Hey. Don’t. I’m not angry about any of that. I never was. And I will never hold a grudge against anyone that wasn’t on my da- on our side”, you cut him off and explained to him firmly. “And if Rhodey isn’t upset about his accident, then who am I to question it? I know you didn’t dodge. It was an accident. I saw the footage way back then, Sam”, you laid your hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

He was overcome with emotion. He deflated as if years’ worth of weight on his shoulders had been lifted off of him. He simply nodded his head.

“If anything, I’m sorry. For everything you had to go through. I hope you’re doing better, now”, you continued.

Sam gave you a half smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. Helpin’ out my sister with the house and my nephews.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised. You didn’t know he had a sister or nephews.

Sam chuckled. “Yeah…I got a younger sister and 2 nephews— AJ and Cass.”

You smiled. “I had no idea. I’m glad you guys can live together again”, you replied sincerely.

“Thank you, kid. I had no idea you’re so….nice”, he smirked.

You let out a loud laugh. Contrary to popular belief and rumours, you were a good and polite kid. Your dad, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy made sure of that. It was always funny to find out how people would judge you on the basis of your last name. But, it could also be because of your resting bitch face.

Both of you quieted down and looked at the display once again, when you decided to finally bring it up.

“Sam, why’d you give up the shield?”, you asked curiously.

He pursed his lips.

“That shield is heavy. And I don’t know if this country is ready to see a man like me bear the weight of it. No matter how many times everyone keeps telling me that it was Steve’s choice, they don’t know the consequences of me being Captain America until they wear my shoes. Steve didn’t know it either because at the end of the day, our skin colour doesn’t match and that isn’t suitable for the shield”, he replied heavily.

It felt like someone had put cold water on top of you, his words cutting straight through your ignorance. The pressure that Sam was undergoing would never be understood by anyone who didn’t look like him. That’s why Rhodey was so understanding of his decision.

You straightened up.

“Oh. Sam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”, you paused to gather your thoughts and word them carefully. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I should’ve known better. I understand. And I respect your decision”, you replied, genuine understanding dripping from your words.

Sam looked at you, surprised. He wasn’t expecting you to understand his situation.

“That’s- it’s..alright kid. Thank you for understanding me. It means a lot”, he replied sincerely and patted your shoulder.

You were about to take his leave when he spoke up.

“Listen, I got a proposal for you.”

You quirked an eyebrow.

“Just…hear me out, okay? Rhodey told me to keep an eye out for you whenever he’s busy. Says you do well with discipline in your routine. If you don’t mind, you could join me and help me out with the tech stuff, you know?”, he said hesitantly.

You were about to deny his offer when he put his hands out in a placating gesture.

“I know, it’s been a long time. You’re not interested in this stuff anymore. But I could use some extra hands and who better than a Stark to help out with technology, right? And, who knows, maybe you’ll make a friend”, he tried to convince you.

“A friend? You think I’m some loner or what, Wilson? (You kind of were, a loner, but we will ignore that.) And just who is this friend?”, you asked him with narrowed eyes.

“He’s my new team member. A tech savvy nerd, like you. You’ll get along, trust me. Except I’ll warn you, that boy yaps a Lot”, Sam replied while chuckling.

That sounded way too familiar to you. You immediately froze and just stared at Sam, lost in thought. All those unwanted and painful memories were coming back to you.

Sam put his hand on your shoulder and you snapped out of your stupor.

“You don’t have to answer me immediately. Take your time, the offer is always open for you. Okay?”, he asked hopefully, ever the optimistic counselor.

You let out a big sigh.

“I don’t know. I’ll see”, you murmured. You could feel that uneasy feeling creep up your veins that told you to shut down, keep everyone away and to run somewhere far away where you could be isolated in peace.

You were finally feeling comfortable in your little bubble that consisted of you, Rhodey, Pepper, Happy and Morgan. Now you had to go out and make yourself accommodating and welcoming again. You had to repeat everything and start from scratch. It was a lot. You were not ready for that.

Healing is never linear, you knew that. But you were doing so well for the past two months. You clenched your fists and begged your mind to keep it together. You were pretty good at masking it.

Sam just nodded his head and patted your arm.

“Come on, I’ll walk you and Rhodey off.”

You both returned to Rhodey and said your goodbyes.

“See ya, old man. Take care of yo’self, alright?”, Sam said while hugging Rhodey.

“You too, Wilson”, Rhodey said before breaking the hug and patting Sam’s back.

“I’m proud of you, Sam. Never forget that”, Rhodey said gently.

Sam just smiled weakly and patted Rhodey’s shoulder before turning to look at you.

You looked at him and gave him a barely there smile before surprising him with a hug. You don’t know what came over you but you just wanted him to know that you appreciated his support and the conversation that you two had back there. Your words failed you, so you did the next best thing you knew– a hug.

He looked at Rhodey over your shoulder and patted your back like an older brother.

“Take care, kid. Think about what I said”, he said after breaking off the hug.

You simply nodded your head yes.

“And both of you are invited to the family cookout, alright? Rhodes, make sure you bring them with you. Sarah makes a mean cornbread”, Sam says while pointing at you.

Rhodey chuckles and you grin before departing.

You sat in the car and looked out of the window, deep in thought. You were processing your conversation with Sam and debating whether you should join him, or not. You couldn’t help but keep thinking about this friend that he mentioned and how he reminded you too much of-

“Whatcha thinkin’?”, Rhodey asked lightly, as if to not startle you.

You glanced back at him and turned your attention to the front of the car. You sighed softly.

“Had a good chat with Sam. We apologised to each other and sorted out our misconceptions.”

“That’s good, right?”, Rhodey asked and tilted his head to look at you.

You nodded. “Yeah. It was really nice to clear all of that up. He’s so…lovely to talk to. We also talked about his decision to give up the shield. I felt so stupid when he explained it to me. How could I not understand that beforehand?”, you said while clenching your jaw, feeling guilty for judging his decision.

Rhodey gave you a soft smile.

“Atleast you’re self-aware, sweetheart”, he said lightly.

You finally gave him a smile.

“Yeah. He also gave me an offer. To join him”, you said hesitantly.

Rhodey smirked knowingly. Sam had already discussed this with him.

“And? What’re you thinking?”, Rhodey asked nonchalantly so as to not freak you out.

You let out a deep breath.

“I don’t know. I’ll think over it”, you replied with finality in your tone.

Rhodey felt the walls build up again so he backed off instead of pestering you to talk more.

“That’s okay. You can take all the time you want, kid. There’s no rush”, Rhodey said sincerely.

You looked at him and squeezed his hand.

“Shall we go get that ice-cream now, your highness?”, Rhodey joked.

You finally let out a chuckle and nodded your head yes before turning your attention back towards the window. You let out a sigh.

You were not going to get any sleep tonight.

Part 2

—————————————————————————

AN: Whew. This was so LONG, I’m so sorry. 😭🙏 but I just couldn’t stop writing because I love me a stark!reader as that’s literally me but also I needed some found family content + closure between the stark family and the cap fam, too. Which is why I had to break it in 2 parts. Our lovebirds will meet in the 2nd part. Keep guessing the references and this mystery person until then.😛 thank you for reading!

[nayaesworld]

The Cruel Mind of Terry Richmond

Inside the mind of Patient#:022802

__

Psycho!Terry x Psychologist!Black reader

Warnings: MDNI!, mentions of mental disorders, manipulative behavior, smut, mentions of murder

Summary: The workings of the human brain had always intrigued you. How no one person ever shared the same brain, each one properly tailored to their needs. Serial killers and psychopaths were no different. Their brain chemicals had mixed into a dangerous cocktail of insanity, intrusive thoughts, and murderous behavior, but lacked in areas where remorse, guilt, and empathy should have been, leaving them to be caged like animals once diagnosed. But these cases interested you and your curiosity about their humanity had led you to urgently sign up to observe and interview the most recent transfer to the ward.

__

—

Psychology had always been your first love. It had been there through breakups and losses alike, and had gotten you through college with a doctorate in psychology. You couldn’t imagine life without your innate curiosity for the inner workings of the human brain, what it meant to be human and how some thoughts turned us into monsters. No one brain was created to respond the same to stimuli, each reaction was perfectly tailored to that person's upbringing and personal experiences, and this created the vast and never ending field of psychology.

You had set your sights on Oak Ridge Behavioral Center exactly a year and a half ago. The facility was a haven for progressive research and development into the rehabilitation of the discarded people of the community. The people that had been deemed ‘unfixable’ and labeled as misfits. Today was your lucky day, a call from the center had shook off any doubts you had about your work. They contacted you. They were interested in your work and what you could do for them.

A quick shower refreshed your mind and body and soothed away the first day jitters. After smoothing a thick body butter on your skin you slid into your black jogger scrub pants and black scrub top. Your white On Cloud sneakers would assist you in being on your feet all day, and you grabbed your Apple Watch and white coat before heading to your car.The dark gray gloominess of the weather outside was a stark difference from the excitement that threatened to bubble out of you.

90’s R&B soothed and serenaded you on your short drive to the facility. Your manicured fingers tapping in rhythm to the loud bass flowing through your speakers. This could be a new beginning for you, something you could tell your family and they’d be proud of you..something you could celebrate and finally give yourself that pat on the back you've always deserved. For all the days you felt like psychology wasn’t your passion anymore, this is what would make it all come full circle.

You arrived early, courtesy of your heavy foot and you sat in your car for a few more minutes. Inhaling and exhaling to shake the nerves from your body. You wanted to go in there and be impressive. These people had sought you out and gotten in contact with you. Your work had made waves and not the ripples you equated it to. It took a big brain to graduate college but an even bigger one was needed to understand someone else’s, that’s why you were here. To show them that your work was good on and off papers.

Out of your head and in front of the doors, you badged into the facility being met with icy cool air that makes you pull your jacket a little closer over your body. You’re greeted by Dr.Leland upon arrival and a smile graces your face. She reaches forward to shake your hand and you’re immediately calmed by the soft firm grip of it—safe and intentional. The middle aged woman's smooth dark skin and warm eyes soothed your nerves, her neat braids pulled back into a high ponytail.

“ So happy to have you here, I know you know me as Dr. Leland, but you can call me Karen. I know we’ve chatted some through zoom and what not, but I’d like to give you a more in depth tour of our facility.”

“Lead the way..I’m excited!”

You were stunned. Nothing could have prepared you for the state- of- the- art facility. The pictures quite literally did it no justice. The different stations inside designed uniquely to cater to a vast variety of different personalities. Large windows and atriums pulled in bright natural lighting giving the facility a healthy lush glow. A garden center where patients could help grow fresh produce and tend to all sorts of flowers and fruit trees. A studio where they could experiment with different beats and produce their own music, a form of music therapy. She took you to the pool room, and ended the tour in the art room.

“Dr.Le- I’m sorry Karen…wow! I mean I don’t know what else to say, you all have clearly dedicated yourselves to this cause. There’s a plethora of great therapy options here, something for everyone.”

“We are dedicated, heavily dedicated…but we also know the extent of what we can offer an individual here at Oak Ridge. And if there’s ever a time where our usual practices don’t seem to be working for someone, we call in people like you.”

You couldn’t lie, your curiosity for this ‘troubled patient’ was beginning to grow. Your eagerness to wonder who it was that Karen Leland couldn’t seem to rehabilitate. But this also broughtl on doubt.. if she couldn’t do it, how could you? Karen was a seasoned psychologist, she had seen it all.. and yet she had gotten in contact and needed your help. You were slightly spooked.

“I’m appreciative Karen I really am.. but I have to ask what am I getting myself into here?”

Her lips pursed and her smile faltered a bit before she motioned for you to follow her to another level of the building. The elevator ride down was short and you tried to hide your initial shock at realizing there was a whole other level beneath where you had just been standing. Patients were being housed and treated down here?

Stepping off of the elevator she badged in and two large steel doors swept open quietly. The lighting was the first thing you noticed. It was yellow-green almost and had been a complete stark difference from the bright airy openness of the front of the building. It was darker, quieter, and as you followed closely behind Karen you noticed the patients seemed drowsy and disoriented. Each room an eggshell white with a large glass cutout in the wall, offering you and other doctors a visual of the patients.

“We’ve chosen to nickname this area of the facility Doomsday..and I’d like to show you why. Every patient on this level has exhibited dangerous life threatening behavior either toward me, other therapists, or the orderlies. This is our last attempt at rehabilitation..and their last chance at a normal life.”

You continued walking alongside her, grasping onto her words trying to get a sense of what kind of patient you’d be faced with. You felt like you had seen enough, you were ready for an introduction.

“So I obviously have to ask..when can I meet him? I’ve taken heed of what you’ve told me but I want to get a general idea about this patient before anything.”

Karen seemed impressed by your approach and the two of you began the trek deeper into the lower level.

__

You weren’t supposed to have expectations of patients, but when you had seen Terry for the first time you couldn’t help your thoughts. He looked like he belonged on the cover of vogue, and had a build like a well paid athlete. He appeared to have been expecting the visit as he stared out at the two of you, clearly aware that a visit was being made today.

“Did he know about today?” Karen nodded before unlocking the iPad and pulling up his profile.

“It was mentioned to him last week before the incident…this meeting was unfortunately supposed to be held on the upper level. I want to brief you really quickly since I’ve got his file pulled up, and then we’ll speak more about last week.”

Her keeping you in the loop about the incident was exactly what you wanted. You had seen so many instances where doctors were thrown into the lion's den with no knowledge of the patient ever being aggressive or volatile. You didn’t want that for yourself, and so far Oak Ridge was alright in your eyes.

The two of you settled into her office and she began to give you the rundown. A rundown that shocked you.

“So we have 33 year old Terry Richmond. He’s born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, is an only child with one parent still living. He had no prior run-ins with police up until a year ago where he was arrested and charged with two counts of first degree murder for the slaying of two ex girlfriends.”

You were stunned, but you did your best to conceal your facial expressions. This was a wild card for sure. But all you had to do was get deeply submerged in as much knowledge about his situation as you could; that is how you would even the playing fields.

“His attorney was able to get him acquitted by reason of insanity, and he was carted off to us exactly ten days after his court date. His diagnosis.. bipolar schizophrenia, he apparently had been living with these thoughts and feelings for the majority of his life but his mother never had him seen. Hence this huge blowup at the age of 32 that cost him his freedom.”

“Never having him seen as a child is a bit odd, were there ever any signs during childhood?” Karen put away the iPad and swiftly stepped from around the desk.

“Are you ready to ask him yourself?”

You held your head up as you began to approach his cell, and you felt confident knowing that you had the skills to thoroughly assess the patient and rehabilitate him. You were let into his room and given a chair to sit in. His bulky form draped in the ivory sweatsuit provided by the facility. His hands and feet were shackled and clamped to a heavy slab of concrete in the middle of the floor, prohibiting him from moving from the chair he was sitting in. You looked back outside the glass and Karen gave you a nod of approval. You could begin.

“Hi Mr.Richmond I’m Dr.Rhode and I’ll be your doctor for the rest of your time here. It’s nice to meet you.” Your introduction seemed to fall on deaf ears as hazel eyes locked onto your face before swishing away in disinterest.

“The system owns me like a dog.. do they own you too? Do they whistle and you come running..trained and ready to obey?“ He scoffed and looked away, hands rubbing against his pants slightly.

“Well no… I’m here to help you. This is all about you Terry. Can I call you that?”

He never answered and instead threw a pointed look your way. You’d instead continue.

“For the duration of my time here I plan to implement tasks and exercises that will help you achieve a level of rehabilitation that will allow you to live a normal life.”

“Sound like the same shit the last one said..and the one before that. Why are you any different..why should I put my care in your hands?”

“And beside.” He continued “What do those little files tell you about me that I can’t tell you myself hmm?” His face morphed into one of annoyance before you could later up and answer.

“Why don’t you try me..tell me everything you want me to know.”

Terry Richmond was an odd man—particular mostly. His life before Oak Ridge had been colorful and full of adventure. But he wasn’t shy on speaking about the urges he had felt his whole life. How he often restricted himself from the public because being around people would trigger that part of himself and he wasn’t sure most times if he would be able to be without an incident.

“You think you can rehabilitate me…put me back out into the public that’s cute. I’ve accepted what I am..now it’s time for you and the rest of these people to do the same.”

“That’s my jo-“ You didn’t complete your sentence before he cut you off, eager to get his point across.

“No, your job is to assess me and interview me. Don’t try to be a hero, it won’t end well for you.”

__

Over the course of four months she interviewed him and he shared details;details so sick that she’d become physically ill after their sessions. He gave her what she wanted, graphic descriptions, recaps and stories of his ‘hunting sessions’ as he liked to call them— the rituals he would do afterwards. A kind of sacred ceremony for him, tying him to the crimes he’d committed and centering him—making him feel righteous in his actions.

“When I was younger I used to mutilate small animals and my mama would say ‘oh that’s just what boys do’…until I turned thirteen and this time I had stabbed my cousin with a steak knife for touching my Xbox. Wasn’t so boyish of me then.”

The tone of voice he spoke of his mother in was..interesting. He loved the woman with everything in him and yet hated her for not seeing the signs early on—hated her for not getting him help. He blamed her for his actions, because in his mind if she’d helped him like a mother was supposed to, he wouldn’t even be in this situation.

“I don’t think what I did was so bad.” He continued “Of course everyone overreacted a tad bit.. is it a crime that I don’t take kindly to betrayal? Is it a crime to expect from others what I give to them?” His fist smacked into his palm a few times before he sat back roughly in his seat; agitation clear on his face.

“You speak about betrayals and over offering yourself to people that were undeserving. Who and what were these betrayals?” You leg crossed over the other as you scribbled neat shortened notes of his accounts.

Some time lapsed before you realized he hadn’t yet answered your question. It was silent..dead silent. He had been given a little more leeway with his shackles and his hands gripped and pulled at his hair before he began to cut into his forearm with his nails. Bright red blood spilling out from the tiny punctures and coloring his honeyed skin.

“Woah woah! Terry if this question is too much for you we can skip it…please do not harm yourself. Take it slow, just breathe.”

The ragged breaths came out rushed before his large frame stilled with smoother air coming from his nostrils. Tears had started to form now threatening to fall and tell the story for him.

“They tried to get over on me..give away what was mines. They said they loved me, that they would marry me and give me children. I was engaged to both of them. At separate times of course ..and they betrayed me by keeping the company of lesser men.”

“Why do you think you had ownership of these women even after you were no longer together?” The question needed to be answered. How and why did this drive him to commit murder.

He rubbed at his reddened nose and he twisted his full lips to the side, regaining his thoughts on the matter.

“Women are emotional beings…if they connect with you emotionally a different sort of bond forms. They feel linked to you, they know and see you better—they begin to love you.”

“And how could I turn that down?” He continued. “That overwhelming feeling of being wanted and worshipped through love. I wasn’t without love in my life..I always had it—but I never twisted it the way I did with them.”

You clung to every word. Absorbing the pain that oddly seeped from his words. He sounded regretful and proud at the same time. A major mind fuck.

“I was never a good man. I was constantly applauded for the bare minimum…validated in all my actions. I still hear their voices sometimes..in here.”He motioned to his head, the corners of his mouth lifting into a soft smile. “They aren’t angry with me.”

“I’m a monster. Monsters don’t deserve rehabilitation, they deserve isolation.”

Their session ended shortly after and his words stayed with you all night. You showered with them. Ate with them. And when sleep didn’t come so easily, you sat at your computer desk reading article after article. Your blue light frames reflecting gory images and the film from his interrogation. The cold steel timbre of his voice as he answered all the detective's questions. Completely unfazed and unapologetic. He hid nothing from them. Told them how he did it, why he did it..didn’t fight when they began to cuff him.

You fell asleep at your desk. The days blending together like a cocktail and seeping into your brain as you rested. The focal point of them all being your patient; Terry Richmond. Why was your brain trying so hard to victimize and protect him? Maybe it was your psychology brain trying to exhaust all options before you addressed him by what he called himself—monster. Who was really at fault here? Who had failed him? Wasn’t it his job to make well thought out decisions that would impact his life for the better? Murder did the exact opposite; and yet somehow you felt sympathetic towards him. This feeling was freeing and it validated your growing feelings toward the man; you could be the pillar that made him sane again.

__

“I heard you got some free time today. You got to get out of here and paint in the art room..did you enjoy yourself ?”

You had spoken to Karen when you first arrived and was happy to hear that he was able to have a little normalcy.

“I’d rather talk to you..you paint a far better picture than I ever could.”

“Well you know we only meet every Wednesday and Thursday Terry but between those days I’ve recommended some enrichment time outside of this room for you.”

“Have you ever thought about how it might feel to not think those thoughts one day? How it might feel to free your mind?”

The questions seemed obvious enough on your end. And the exposure would have done well for his mental health.

“No that’s not something I want to ever entertain …because those thoughts feature you now. You make my stay in this dog pound worth it…even if I doubted your abilities at first.”

Redirect him. “ Did you paint anything you liked, anything you wanna hang up in your room?”

Surprised wouldn’t quite be the way to describe the painting that he was now showing to you. You felt honored and embraced. Who was really broken here? In all your years of study, you never actually had taken the time to turn the mirror around on yourself. You were compromised. And if Karen knew the thoughts that ran through your head day in and day out you’d be fired and shunned by this community. She had entrusted you with this patient, high expectations of your work ethic and integrity to commit yourself to this job—and you were failing. But what Karen didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

Reaching into your large tote bag to flicked through the cameras that had been linked to your iPad. In the midst of doing risky shit you needed full coverage of what was going on around you. No one could know about this.

Like he had read your mind you watched his eyes shine with pride and endearment. You had finally come around to him. No more fighting it. No more wasted time.

“Thirty minutes is all we have. I need to be filled to the brim and I need it quickly.”

You popped the bottoms of your blouse and exposed your heaving chest to him. Dark brown areolas peering through your bra at him.

“Come closer. Now..I’m in chains and now you want to come to your senses. Get the fuck over here!” His shackles shook with each word and you crossed the room to get to him in mere seconds. Body filled to the max with a need that burned inside you so fiercely.

This wasn’t about right or wrong. This was about fixing the man in front of you, you knew you could get through to him. Make him a man of the future and not one of his terrifying past. A union that would shape the both of you for the rest of your lives.

Shackles on the floor beneath you both as your hands gripped his shoulders tightly. Nothing in the world could have prepared you for the jolt of emotions that would come over you both as the two of you finally connected. The way he gripped your face as you rode him, nose red and eyes wet with hot tears. Your foreheads collided as you sped up. It felt like only the two of you existed—creating your own universe. Creating your own life.

Your watch signaled to you that only minutes remained of what you would describe as the best time of your life. His dick throbbed and pulsed along with your convulsing pussy. Heavy breathing and spit swapping became the soundtrack to your ears. His heavy hands roaming up and down your back as ropes of his cum entered your willing pussy.

“Tell me you love me…and I promise to do my best to let them treat me. Then me and you—and our baby were going far away from here.” He pressed his hand to your belly sealing the fate of what you both knew as your future.

This plan was the end all be all for the two of you. Something that sounded so crazy and unattainable just months ago was now within arms reach. Keeping your license was important, and getting Karen to integrate Terry back in with the top floor was the key to his freedom. So yeah you would lie and lie again about how he was doing. Anything to feed her what she wanted to hear, her praises amping you up and turning you into a deceiving manipulative woman. You were doing it all for love.

__

The coming months hit hard and fast. Your work at Oak Ridge continued through a plethora of other patients Karen believed you could achieve great things with. Hiding your bump was a no brainer. You wanted no one in your business, no coworkers and no family. You missed out on a lot and the distance from your family was hard most days . You couldn’t ask your mother about pregnancy and how she had navigated it three separate times in her lifetime. You attended your appointments alone, only able to update Terry through small spurts of information whenever you were within a few feet of him. The cold winter made it easy to bundle up during your last trimester and shorter work hours were given to you under the guise of ‘spreading yourself too thin between hospitals’.

The two of you were welcoming a Christmas baby. Your due date being on the twenty third of the month; set exactly two weeks after Terry would be released. You sighed briefly to yourself as you watched Terry play it up to Karen. You longed to reach out and touch him, to let him touch you and begin to learn the life that you had grown inside of you for the last eight months. But you were closer to the finish line than you’d ever been; you could taste the freedom. Sadness still managed to creep in when you were alone at home though. Lies flew from your mouth so fast. ‘No mommy I won’t make it to thanksgiving this year, the workload is tough’ the way you’d mute the phone and weep quietly to yourself as you let down your parents yet again. But this was for a greater cause, you and Terry both believed that.

Stranger things had happened to you. But when the Uber stopped outside your home and his broad figure came into your view you knew that this was your destiny. Duffle bag slung over his strong shoulders as a dark brown beanie protected his ears from the bite of the freeze; the two of you were meant to meet.

His knees graced the floor of your foyer immediately as he entered your home. Large gloved hands roaming over your protruding bump and raising the heather grey camisole to kiss where the baby softly kicked. He stood to his feet and craned his neck a bit to meet your plump lips. He was finally home.

“Thank you for this baby..thank you for your patience. I owe you eternal peace.”

“It’s a girl Terry. I wanted to surprise you at birth but you deserve to know…deserve to know that she’ll have the best parts of the both of us.”

Falling into a routine was easy with him. He finished your sentences, cooked and cleaned. He even dealt with the whirlwind of your hormones. Your feet were swollen, your back ached, and babygirl didn’t hold back on getting comfortable in your uterus. But the pain was only temporary and she eagerly slid into this world with three pushes and a loud strong wail. Come Christmas Day she was dressed in a snug reindeer onesie as you sipped hot chocolate and gave Terry his gifts. But the best Christmas gift was the one you carried for nine whole months and nestled close to you.

—

You curbed your family’s appetite to see you in the flesh just three months after you had given birth. Doing your best to hide any indication of childbirth, you had met them at their house and their house only, you cheered,laughed, and enjoyed a hearty Sunday dinner before you scurried back home to Amelia; your four month old bundle of joy. You felt relieved and satisfied after seeing your family and deep down you knew you had truly missed them. All the banter and loudness that made them into everything you loved and everything you knew growing up.

You brushed the shiny black curls of Amelia’s head before you allowed her to latch onto an engorged breast. Her small cheeks puffing and filling with milk as her tiny ocean eyes held yours in an intense match of who loved who more. Your greatest accomplishment. Terry came to get her and lay her down shortly after she fell asleep on your nipple, you took that needed time to pump breast milk and shower away the scent of outside.

Excitement beamed inside of you. The three of you were relocating. Your family believing the lie that you had found a higher paying job in another state; a partial lie if you will. Your whole house was in boxes right now and the two of you had to rent the U-Haul tomorrow to officially pack up and head to greener pastures. Terry's hand around your neck shocked you from your happy thoughts and you turned to him.

“We leave tomorrow.. Milly’s gonna grow up away from here. We’ll have new beginnings; together. Did you ever think our dreams would come true?” His keen focused eyes beamed with live and adoration for you.

“I promised you eternal peace my love..a freedom away from here. Me and Milly will always love you, she’ll always have you in her and that’ll get her a million miles further in life. I love you, you have given me everything I ever wanted; now rest my heart.”

Sharp pain. A swift puncture to your heart, was this heartbreak? What were you feeling? In your shock you watched your shirt stain crimson, your life force leaking slowly from you as the love of your life pushed the dagger deeper into your dying heart. You fell into his arms, gripping his wrist tightly as he tugged the dagger from your heart with a grunt before gently laying you on the living room floor. Your eyes fluttered quickly and your vision blurred with tears of betrayal and fear, your little girl wouldn’t remember you; she’d grow up without you.

But you couldn’t hold on for her. And you tried so hard to, so hard to gather up enough oxygen to even wiggle a finger. But no more fight was left. “Rest my love..it’s as easy as falling asleep.” His low voice laid you to rest and sealed your eyes closed for good.

Your earthly eyes shut and a new pair opened. Death had become you and you were dead. Your body laid sprawled on the floor and your blood trickled slowly from your stab wound. You watched as he sat Amelia next to your dead body. Her chubby hands tugging and pulling at your face before her bottom lip poked out and she began to scream loudly from your still face. Her tiny shrills filled the house and she gripped Terrys coat firmly when he lifted her to his chest. Was it possible for your heart to break in the afterlife?

“Say bye bye to mommy Milly. It’s just you and dada now..just you and me.” He pressed kisses to her chubby cheeks and her toothless grin returned to her face as she attempted to put his nose in her mouth.

Lesson learned the hard way. Red lights were actually red and so were stop signs. And monsters were exactly what they looked like; monsters. Consequences of your actions landed you here, a harsh lesson but a lesson nonetheless. For as long as you could, you would watch your little girl grow up. She’d never see your face again but it was your job to guide her and steer her away from the monsters of this world. You had learned a great enough lesson for the both of you.

—

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[writing-fanics]

Hi 🥺 I had a dream that I really want into a fic but I’m so ass at writing but the dream was basically Josh and Y/N are a couple through the death of the sisters and when they go back the next year Y/N is pregnant and trying to tell Josh but half way through his prank he finds out (I don’t remember how) and ta-da I wake up!

If you’re not comfortable writing this it’s ok! Just ignore my ask :) ❤️

[note: omg! We had the same dream!]

Josh Washington x F!Reader

A/n; no use of y/n

Warning: mentions of pregnancy: slight angst: fear for life

You nervously stared at the positive pregnancy test while sitting on Josh’s bed in the lodge, tapping your foot against the floor and biting down on your lower lip. Unsure of how you are going to tell Josh the news. You weren't that far along not even showing yet, but you were pregnant. Three weeks in fact.

The sound of footsteps coming up the steps made you shove the pregnancy test into your pocket, acting as if nothing was happening. You looked up, seeing your boyfriend Josh walking into the room to sit beside you. “What’re you doing up here all by yourself?” asked Josh, as sat down beside you.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing, that doesn’t sound very fun” he said.

He moves closer, putting an arm around your shoulder. "I was thinking we should heat up some of those frozen pizzas you brought," he says, rubbing your arm.

“Throw ourselves a little party, " he says, placing his hand on your thigh. You turn to look at him and smile, seeing the smirk on his face. After that, " he leaned closer, closing the gap between you. You gasped quietly, feeling his lips against yours.

"Mm, you've got the whole night planned out don't you?" You asked, looking at him. He put an arm around your waist, keeping you from laying down on the bed. "You could say that." He grinned, planting another kiss on your lips.

"Why?"

"Are you pregnant?" he asked, You froze and bit your lip. “Ahh.” you said nervously. “Im just joking with you.” he said, kissing you on the lips.

"I would love to start a family with you," he said, holding your hand and gently rubbing it with his thumb. You smiled as you looked at him.

“I can see a little you or little me running around,” He said smiling at the thought.

Your heart skipped a beat hearing his words, “Josh, I-I’m-” but you were interrupted, by a knock at the doorway. You two turned around and saw Sam standing there, “Am I interrupting something?” asked Sam, and you pulled away and shook your head.

“N-No, we were only talking.” You said. She looks at you not convinced for a moment then turns towards Josh, “Hey Josh. No hot water's kinda major oversight doncha think...?” asked Sam, looking at him and her.

“Yeah yeah, just gotta fire up the boiler. It's in the basement.” said Josh, as he he then returned his gaze back to you.

He planted a kiss on your lips. "Let's finish this when I get back, okay?" he said as he pulled away. He went with Sam downstairs to the basement to turn on the boiler, leaving you all alone.

—-———

You sat there on the bed staring at the pregnancy test, and then your stomach grumbled. You pouted, frozen pizza sounded really good right now. Placing the pregnancy test on the night stand, you got up and made your way downstairs.

As you made your way downstairs you noticed Chris and Ashley, talking by the kitchen door. “Whats going on, where’s Josh?” You asked, looking down at them.

As if on cue you heard Josh’s screams coming from the kitchen, as the door rattled. “Josh!” You cried out, rushing down the stairs.

Trying to open the door hearing his screams, but the door wouldn’t budge. “Come on!” You groaned.

“Josh!” Ashely called out, and as she touched the door she was pulled inside. The door slamming behind her, “Ash! Josh!” You and Chris called out fearfully, as you tried to get the door open. Once the door opened you and Chris were met face to face, with a psychopath wearing a mask. Before you could do anything, the psycho had punched Chris in the face knocking him unconscious.

Leaving only you.

Your eyes widened as you backed away, turning to run. You didn’t get far the psychopath pulling you back wrapping his arms around you and placing a cloth over your nose.

Your vision blurred as you struggled against his strong grasp, feeling the rough texture of the cloth covering your mouth as you desperately tried to pull it off. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your surroundings as you fought to stay conscious.

You whimpered in fear and desperation, your body growing weaker as you struggled against his overpowering hold. Finally, your strength failed, and your body went limp in his arms.

He shifted your body placing an arm underneath your thighs and another, on your back. Carrying you bridal style. Walking up the stairs quietly, he entered his room. Placing you on the bed carefully.

He knelt down and brushed his fingers against your cheeks, causing you to shift. He was about to get up and leave to begin the next phase of his prank, but something on the nightstand caught his eye.

Picking up the plastic link that stuck his arms to his side, he looked back and forth between you and the positive pregnancy test. Why didn't you tell him? Were you nervous? Scared? Worried he'd be angry at you?

He could never be upset with you for being pregnant. He wanted to wake you up and twirl you around in his arms. But he was in too deep; he couldn't stop now, could he?

[a/n: sorry for the wait with this one also the abrupt ending. Josh basically didn’t mean for u to be there the same time Chris and Ashley were]