#Surfaces from work briefly to scream

[bbystark]

♡ hate needing you ♡

logan howlette (wolverine) x reader

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: you have daddy issues, logan just has issues. together you make quite the toxic combination. based on this request by @v3lv3tf0x

⚠︎ smut, including oral, p in v, etc. unhealthy relationship, very very very minor dubcon. angst :(

a/n: girl i haven't written smut in forever, i was in front of my computer for two hours sweatin. won't be proofreading since it's almost 5k words and mommy is tired. eat it up!!!!

You and Logan are in a dangerous cycle. You know he barely even tolerates you, probably only likes you for the release he gets, both literally and figuratively. You’re not any better, clinging onto him for attention, seeking his validation to soothe your insecurities. You don’t even get much from him, and that’s exactly the thing that made it so dangerous for you. He dangles just enough in front of you to reel you in, only to shove you back just out of arm's reach. 

Neither of you really realize it. At the surface you’re both aware you have a fair share of issues, things that you should really be working on as individuals. In the beginning of your toxic little dance Logan wanted nothing to do with it, and you similarly knew it was a dangerous path to head down. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

It all really started the first moment you laid eyes on him. You were recruited by Charles, another traumatized mutant that could make a difference. You met Logan weeks after you’d moved into the mansion, coming back in the middle of the night smelling like whiskey and cigars. That alone had heat rising to your cheeks. You were in the kitchen in a cute pajama set, shorts riding up as you lounged on a chair and satisfied your midnight craving. When he walked into the kitchen doorway, massive shoulders making the frame seem small, you suddenly had a very different midnight craving. He was half glaring at you, still tipsy and angsty from his all-day bender. It sent a thrill through you, like you were being reprimanded. You felt the sudden need to be in his good graces, to replace his glare with a smile.  

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked while moving to the refrigerator and digging through the freezer. He pulls out a frost covered bottle of whiskey. 

“I’m y/n,” you watch as he sits across the table from you, chair protesting his weight. “y/n y/l/n. I started a few weeks ago.” 

He gives you a look, opening the bottle with his teeth and spitting the cork somewhere. You couldn’t help but stare. He takes it the wrong way in his hazy state, eyes connecting with yours as he takes several pulls from the bottle. 

“Got a staring problem? If you wanted some you coulda just asked bub.” He leans over the table, clumsily pouring a shot into your empty water cup. You blush a little, feeling silly as you take the cup and swirl the liquid around. It’s not at all what you wanted, but you felt like you had to impress him for some reason. 

He watched as you took a drink, eyebrows bunched together as you willed yourself not to spit it back into the cup. You coughed a little after it finally went down, wincing at the heat coating your throat. “That was disgusting.” 

He threw his head back and laughed. It’s deep and rich and suddenly you’re laughing too. “Shoulda known you couldn’t handle it, little thing like you in those cute little pjs. Doesn’t exactly scream whiskey lover.” 

You gave him a shy smile, and Logan tried very hard not to smile back, opting to take another swig of his “disgusting” whiskey instead. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Logan.” 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The next morning Logan had woken up with a headache he knew would be gone within the next 15 minutes. He briefly recalls making it home, meeting you on his quest for more liquor. He’s almost embarrassed when he remembers he had laughed with you, even flirted a little. He had no interest in anything serious, not even a friend. He didn’t need one. 

He leaves his room in search of coffee and breakfast, almost startled when he saw you a few doors down. You happened to be leaving too, having an early training session. He can’t help but let his eyes wander, taking in your much too tight and very girly workout attire. He clears his throat when he finds he’s been looking at your ass a little too long, and you whip around. 

“Oh! Logan, hi. I didn’t see you there.” You notice he’s in the same clothes as last night. “Looks like we’re neighbors.” 

“Looks like it.” He’s not smiling, sober and more guarded than he was the night before. “Cute clothes.” 

He means it in a patronizing way, reverting back to his unpleasant demeanor. You don’t take it like that though, and everything in him is telling him to walk away when he sees pink dusting your cheeks. 

“Thanks Logan,” you’re beaming. “I’m running late so I should go, but I’ll see you around?” 

He doesn’t answer as you turn away and walk towards the gym. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

It’s like that for weeks. You never have any substantial conversations, only running into each other for short moments where you give him twirls to show off your latest outfit or ask if he likes how you did your hair that day. Sometimes he snaps at you, says your braids look like a rats nest or your top is too bright. Other times he gives you small hums of appreciation, a quick “looks good”. You thrive for the validation, and he doesn’t notice that you’ve slowly stopped wearing the things that garner a sour reaction from him. 

He thinks you look pretty in everything, really, but he can’t stop himself from trying to put up a wall between you two, cutting off whatever ideas you have about being with him. He never goes too far, knows you take most of his insults as teasing, maybe even flirting. 

However, after a few weeks of your little back and forth he does take it too far. He’s a little too tipsy and a little too desperate, and when he knocks on your door, you answer a little too fast. You’re in a big tshirt and fuzzy socks, looking so fucking soft and innocent as you peer up at him. “Logan? Everything all right?” 

No, it wasn’t. He was drunk and angry about a lot of things, as usual. He desperately craved to not be angry, even if just for a second. He wanted something sweet and soft to bury himself into. That’s why he was here. He wasn’t dumb, even if you really didn’t know much about each other, he knew you had a crush. Knew you would say yes to whatever he asks. He feels bad that he’s here, but not enough to stop himself. 

“Logan?” His nostrils are flaring and he hasn’t moved an inch since you opened the door. You’re beginning to get nervous. Before you can process it, he’s crossed the space separating you in one large step and pulled you into him. You almost slam into his body, your hands landing on his chest. He weaves a hand into your hair on the back of your head and pulls, your mouth opening in shock. He uses it as an opportunity to lower his head to yours, looking into your eyes before smashing his lips to yours. 

It’s almost painful, the way he kisses you. But it’s also full of desperation and messy and neither of you can get enough. His tongue licks at your teeth and you surprise him by taking it in, sucking it gently. A low groan echoes in his chest, and you realize you’re throbbing already. He pulls away slightly, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip and slowly releasing. You open your eyes, getting a glimpse at his dark pupils before he promptly spins you around, one hand on your shoulder and one on your hip. He puts slight pressure on your shoulder, and you get the memo, slowly leaning forward until your front is flush with your mattress, your arms curled up on either side of you. 

The position is vulnerable, and you find yourself pressing your thighs together and squirming in nervousness. He hasn’t said a single word to you, and you’re already dripping, feeling almost uncomfortably moist in your panties. You meet his eyes, shivering when his hands start exploring the pudgy skin of your thighs. The eye contact is too much, and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

You couldn’t believe you were here; you had fantasized about it plenty of times but now it was happening and it all felt so fast and yet not fast enough. The last thing you expected was him making the first move, you still weren’t convinced the man even like you. Yet here you were, bent over for him. 

  He pulls your shirt up and past your ass, an appreciative mumble falling from his lips when he discovers you’re only in panties. You can feel his callouses gently scrape your skin as he puts his hands on your ass, gently massaging. He takes his time, all other thoughts outside of fucking you slowly becoming silent. This is what he wanted, what he needed. A simple distraction. He spreads your cheeks lightly, and you clench around nothing when you feel a puff of air on your clothed folds. 

Logan’s cock is already half hard and twitching at the sight of you. Hell, he was chubbed the second he started kissing you. He chalks that up to his dry streak and not because it’s you he was kissing. Sweet little you, who’s ruined her panties, and he hasn’t even really acknowledged you. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears you whine and shift your hips closer to his face. “Please Logan. Want you.” You’re looking at him from the mattress, face flushed and lips puffy from his biting. You looked fucked out and all he’s done is kiss you. The thought spurs him on as moans lowly. He tears your panties from your hips, the sting of the fabric biting into skin almost too much in your needy state. They give easily, and his hands are back on your ass, spreading you open for him once again. This time he sees all of you, pretty folds glistening in the low light of your room and your clit uncomfortably swollen. 

It’s a sight Logan will remember for a long time. “Jesus love, all this for me huh?” 

Of course it was for him. You’d do anything he’d ask. Or didn’t ask, for christ sakes you were naked for him after the first kiss and no prior discussion. You didn’t care. Too lost in the high of what was to come. 

You give him a whimper, you were going to break if he didn’t give you some type of stimulation soon. “All for you Logan, always, please just touch me, fuck me, anything you want just- please- do something.” Your desperation paired with the arch in your back as you search for friction has him throwing all decorum out of the window. 

He licks from your clit to your dripping hole, nose dragging through the velvet wetness you’ve produced. He groans as he wraps his tongue around your clit and sucks for a few moments before returning to lapping at your folds. Your mind almost goes blank, tingles erupting throughout your body. One of your hands reach behind you blindly, trying to find some part of him to touch, keep you grounded. He notices and grabs your wrist, briefly pulling away from your sloppy cunt to grab your other wrist roughly, holding both in one hand as he continues eating you out like he’s starving. 

You whimper at the constrictions he’s put you under, fists opening and closing in time with your toes curling as he pushes you to your peak. Your hips start to move on their own accord, and he finds himself chasing your wetness with every jerk of your hips. He growls when you twitch away a tad too much. “Be a good girl and stay still.” 

You freeze immediately, and somehow even more blood rushes to your already puffy pussy. Good girl. You would be, you promised yourself. You’d be a good girl for him. 

He pats your ass at your obedience, fingers slowly finding a pace on your clit. You want to writhe around and give yourself more friction, but you don’t, you want Logan to see that you’re being good and listening. You feel two fingers drag through your folds and moan when he begins slowly pressing them into your warm walls. You can feel his knuckles catch and you let out a curse as his fingers curl and bump that special spot that makes you go cross-eyed. 

Logan is enraptured as he watches your hole flutter around his fingers, feeling a primal need to replace it with his cock. He curls his fingers over and over, watching your face as you whimper and moan into your sheets. His name falls from your lips, and he knows you're close. He pulls away then, your hips fall onto the bed, your knees wobbling. You’re about to protest until you see him reaching for his buckle, hastily pulling his belt from the loops then unzipping his fly. He shoves his pants down just enough to pull his cock out, hard and leaking. He gives himself a few pumps, squeezing at the base. You push yourself up, supporting yourself on your forearms as he puts one knee on the bed, leaning over you. 

You get a better view of him from here, tip a soft red and pretty veins swollen with need. You almost want to reach out and take over for him. He uses his free hand to grab your chin, pulling your face to look at him. “You ready for me princess?” 

You can only nod in response, teeth chewing on your lip nervously. His hand moves to wrap gently around your throat, hunching over to kiss you once more. Your neck strains as you try to kiss him impossibly deeper, craving the way he tasted. He’s the one who ends the kiss again, and you numbly wish you could just sit here and kiss him for hours. He pats your cheek smiling down at you. “Good girl.” 

He moves off the bed, grabbing your hips and manhandling you into an upright position again. You feel even more wetness leak from you at how effortless he can move you around. You gasp when his tip drags through your folds, head catching on your clit. He does this a few times while gathering your wrists into his hands once more, using his other to begin pressing his aching cock into your warm walls. The tip pops in, and you feel yourself clench, hard. He lets out a loud moan. 

“Fuck darlin, gonna strangle the damn thing.” You only moan in return and he smirks, using his hands that hold your wrists as leverage, pulling you back to sink onto his cock even further. 

You close your eyes at the stretch, the pain being just enough to blur into mind numbing pleasure and fullness. His hips are flush to yours now, and he presses himself into your ass even more, addicted to the feeling of being balls deep inside you. He pulls out slowly, before snapping his hips forward. Your whole body moves with the force, and he tightens the grip he has on your wrists. He sets an unrelenting pace, your moans almost drowned out by his grunts and occasional shouts of curses. 

You can feel every inch of him, adjusted to his size and clenching around him every time his balls slapped your clit. He releases your wrists in favor of grabbing your hips, slamming into them with a ferocity that you would feel in the morning. You’re far too turned on to care at the moment. 

“Fuck Logan, just like that, I’m close, please-” He silences you with a slap to your ass, mind going blank with need when he sees red blooming across the soft skin. You clench harder this time. He’s grunting with every hard thrust he makes. “C’mon good girl, give it to me.” 

That’s all it takes, your limbs go numb as your orgasm washes over you, euphoria blooming from your stomach and spreading to your fingertips. Logan roars as he finishes, hearing your name fall from his lips like it’s the only word you’ve ever known. He likes hearing your moans more than he would like to admit. 

His thrusts gradually slow, before coming to a stop, still twitching inside you as you go through the aftershocks. You catch your breath, panting and suddenly feeling very humid. He slips out of you carefully, almost tempted for round 2 when he catches a glimpse of his spend leaking from you. His head is starting to clear a little, and he realizes he’s put himself in an awkward position. 

You’re smiling up at him, pupils still blown and hair messy. He finds himself not knowing what to say to you. So, he doesn’t say anything, just pulls his pants up and goes to your bathroom, coming back out with a rag. He tosses it to you. You clean yourself up, also feeling slightly awkward. He’s sitting at the edge of your bed, watching you. 

“Do you wanna like, cuddle, maybe?” 

He gives you a look and you almost wish you hadn’t asked. He rolls his eyes and stands; you think he’s going to leave until he’s pulling back your duvet and jerking his head towards you. You comply immediately, feeling giddy. Logan knows he should leave. Not give you any more mixed signals than he already has. But the guilt is starting to wiggle back into his brain, and he can’t say no. 

He’s in jeans, and above the covers, but you’re comfortable regardless. Your head is on his chest, fingers playing with the edge of his shirt. You don’t say much to each other, but silently you’re happier than you have been in a long time. He came and seeked you out, fucked you good and hard, and now he’s (almost) cuddling you after. You’re over the moon. You fall asleep on his chest, satisfied and tired. 

He leaves almost immediately after your eyes close. You wake up the next morning feeling hollow. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Logan is afraid that night was like an invitation for more to you. The following weeks you’re stuck to him like glue, finding whatever room he’s in and sitting with him. “Accidentally” making too much dinner and forcing him to share a meal with you. You still ask him stupid questions, “do you like my nails?”, “look at my form, isn’t it better than last week?”, “do these shoes look dumb?”. 

It’s getting on his nerves. However, he does figure out the best way to get you to shut up is to get you on your knees with his cock down your throat.

Logan has shoved all guilt deep down, rationalizing his shitty behavior with the logic that you’re both using each other. It’s what he tells himself when he finds himself at your door multiple times a week half hard and in need of release. 

Then, once again, Logan takes it too far. He comes back from a mission with the X-men, already on edge after a disagreement with Scott. All he wants is to take off for a week with his motorcycle and drink so much his body will have to regenerate a whole new liver from scratch. He almost runs into you, too busy storming to his stash of whiskey to bother being aware of his surroundings. He instinctively grabs your arm to keep you from falling back, steadying you before letting go. 

“Logan! You’re back!” Your eager voice is too much for him right now. “I finally finished the book I stole from you, I really liked it! I was about to eat lunch if you want me to make you something and maybe we can talk-” 

“No.” Logan is glaring at you. 

“What?” 

“I said no kid. You’re up my ass 24/7, can’t even settle in after a mission without you finding me and being fucking annoying.” He’s snarling at you, face inches from yours and using his height to intimidate. It works, and you shrink into yourself.

“Logan I’m sorr-”

“Save it, your desperate little attempts at getting my approval are pathetic. Almost makes me feel sorry for you. Leave me the fuck out of it, I don’t want anything to do with you. You got that?” He doesn’t let you answer, pushing it out of his mind when he sees your eyes sparkle with tears. He continues stomping down the hall. 

You watch as he leaves, shocked tears making their way down your cheeks. You had no idea you had pushed things too far with Logan. Wasn’t he the one just a few short weeks ago pounding on your door and then pounding you without as much as a hello? You knew he would get irritated with you, make snippy comments and roll his eyes at you constantly. But without fail he’d always come back and make it up with a sweet smile the next day. This time was different. There was no teasing, no hint of affection hidden behind the insult. This time he was serious. 

He didn’t want you around. You feel the pressure of a panic attack coming on, putting a hand on your chest and pressing hard to try to hold it together. You knew this would happen. You put all your eggs into one basket and now you’re screwed. You didn’t mean to pin so much of your self worth onto Logan, but it was hard not to when a simple compliment from him had your confidence higher than it had ever been your entire life. Even the insults were addicting, deluding yourself into believing he wouldn’t tease you so much if part of him didn’t enjoy having you around. 

You feel stupid, and angry, angry that you once again put your trust into a man who didn’t care for it. Part of you wants to run after him, scream, cry, kiss him, anything to get him to see how he hurt you, get him to come back. You scoff at yourself. Fat chance. If he didn’t want you around, then you wouldn’t be around. 

Your panic has subsided for the moment, but you make your way to your room, feeling like a good cry in the comfort of your own space might help the pit in your stomach. Hours later, cried out and nursing a massive headache, you realize it didn’t help at all.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Logan hasn’t seen you in days. He tries not to think about it. He knows he snapped a little too hard, said some things he didn’t completely mean, but he figured you’d be over it now. That you’d stop pouting and find him, asking if he liked some stupid skirt or hair clip. He hates that he misses your little fashion shows. He caves, and eventually begrudgingly asks Scott if she’s seen you. 

“Y/n? Yeah I saw her a few hours ago getting food. Why? Finally figure out she’s avoiding you?” 

Logan bristles at that. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” 

Scott continues, pressing his luck. “Yeah, right. I don’t know what you said this time, but maybe next time you should be a man and let her down easy, or better yet, don’t lead her on in the first place. She’s hurt man, and that’s on you. Leave it alone for once.” 

Logan is dangerously close to starting a fight, claws inching out of his knuckles. Scott decided he’s made his point, and leaves without giving Logan a second glance. He has half a mind to follow the fucker, but he stays put. 

Scott thought that him saying something would be helpful, he didn’t know you all that well but from what Jean has told him, Logan has a way of leaving the worst kinds of marks on people. He figured if you wouldn’t stand up to Logan, maybe he could advocate on your behalf.

He doesn’t know that, if anything, Logan wants to deny the truth even harder now that Scott decided to act like he knew everything. He wants to believe the opposite of what Scott told him. You weren’t upset, you were just busy. He wasn’t leading you on, you knew what you were signing up for. What the fuck did Scott know? 

Leave it alone.

He should, he really should. For your sake. You might be overbearing and too excited at times, but you don’t deserve the way he treats you. He wishes he could do it, treat you right and be there for you. But he can’t, and there’s no use imagining it. There’s a mile-thick concrete wall around his perimeter, designed to keep him from experiencing the person he loves ripped away from him. He can’t go through that again. 

He wants to though; it makes him sick when he realizes. At some point between hours of animalistic sex and your soft smiles he had lost a little piece of himself to you.

 He goes into a blind rage, punching the wall behind him and slicing anything within arm's reach. He’s angry at himself for not walking away the first day he met you, for being drunk and stupid and making your first experience with him too pleasant. He could’ve ignored you, never even learned your name and kept it that way. But he didn’t. 

He doesn’t want to admit that he really was the one who started all of this.

Rather than take any responsibility or process his feelings, he finds himself marching to your room, footsteps heavy and rhythmic. He doesn’t want to be the bad guy again, doesn’t want to be angry at Scott or himself or the world. So, he’s back where he started, outside your door. 

You open it timidly, eyes dim and hair not put up like usual. You look depressed. You are depressed, not that you would tell him that. You feel numb as you stare up at him, having a good idea of why he was here. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into a hug. He lifts you slightly, walking you over to your bed and sitting down carefully, bringing you onto his lap. Your muscles are tense, he’s never hugged you before, it feels weirdly intimate. You can’t bring yourself to push him away. 

“M’sorry. M’so so sorry.” He whispers into your hair, smoothing the baby hairs sticking up with a gentle hand. You lose it when he kisses your forehead with more tenderness than you'd ever experienced. You’re softly crying, grasping onto his shirt and shoving your face into his chest. 

You don’t want to keep doing this over and over. You want to feel okay without Logan around, you don’t want to need him. Unfortunately, as he’s kissing his way down your neck and mumbling “Let me make it better, at least for a little while,” you don’t have it in you to break the cycle today.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Dirty Thoughts

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary- While babysitting the twins, Wanda is left to listen to all the sinful thoughts of her flickering through your mind.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Oral sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstimulation, Dom/sub undertones, Bottom Wanda/Top Reader, Dirty thoughts, Age difference, Sexual Tension, Face-sitting, Fingering, Grinding, Implied/reference cheating, Fluff and Smut

General Master List

W/c- 4.3k

---

"Prepare to lose Tommy," you tease, stretching your arms above your head in a joking manner, twisting your body to warm up for the most important event ever.

"There's no way I'm going to lose to an old person," he sticks his tongue out at you, a gasp leaving you at his insult.

" Old? I'm twenty-one," you splash a bit of the water at him earning a chuckle from Billy from the side of the pool.

"Exactly, old." You roll your eyes at the boy, turning and getting yourself into position for the race. You couldn't back down from the silly remark Tommy made, declaring he could swim faster than you, which now led to a race happening between you two. Billy was to watch from the side lines, judging who would win the race and ending the debate.

"On your marks, get set," Billy dragged out the starting call, laughing at how serious you and his brother were taking this. "GO!" he called, and you both started. Being older than the boy by around ten years helped as you quickly took the lead. You probably should have gone easy on him, but you were too competitive to do that. You looked behind you to see him trying to catch up, a look of determination on his face making you laugh. You were nearly halfway across the pool when you heard a mischievous laugh erupt from your side. "Sabotage!" Billy screamed, jumping onto your back, the air being kicked out of your lungs as you went underwater with the added weight. You gasped for breath when you reached the surface, Billy like a koala clinging onto your back as you tried to continue the race.

At the sound of shouting, Wanda came outside after just arriving back from work to see the chaotic scene unfold in front of her. A smile took over her face as she watched Billy try and halt your movements while Tommy swam past you, your arms trying a last-ditch effort to win the race by grabbing at his legs but failing. She took a seat in one of the longue chairs outside, laying back to admire the race.

"I win!" Tommy pants out, just about reaching the other end of the pool before you despite his brother on your back. Billy remained clinging onto you as you stood up in the water, wiping your face and trying to push some of your wet hair out of your eyes. You watched as the boys high fived over you, Billy's arm quickly wrapping around you when he pulled back as he was scared to fall off you.

"You cheated," your face in disbelief as you held onto the boy who ruined your chances of winning.

"I didn't do anything," Tommy taunted, looking at the boy on your back with a triumphant look. You shook your head at the cheek of the boy, chuckling at how happy he was and giving in.

"Fine, you win," he immediately erupted into cheers along with his brother. You decided you had enough of Billy at the moment and playfully leaned backwards.

"No, no," he rushed out as he hovered over the water, his grip on you increasing. Standing up straight, he sighed in relief before his eyes widened when you squatted down, submerging both of you in the water. You came up quickly and he let go of you, swimming over to where his brother was so you couldn't do it again.

"You deserved that Billy," a voice spoke from the side, all three of you look over to see Wanda watching with an amused look.

"Mom," he complained, "You're supposed to be on my side." Both you and Wanda chuckled at him making him turn around to talk to his brother, pretending to ignore you both.

You climbed out of the pool, letting the water drip off your toned body and walked over to where Wanda was. Her eyes briefly scanned your body before you could notice and watched as you flopped down onto the chair next to her. She let silence wash over the two of you and returned her gaze to her boys in the pool, the only sound your quiet pants as you recovered from the race and being jumped on.

You look over at Wanda and couldn't help but stare. She was beautiful, absolutely breath-taking and seeing her in that light summer dress made your thoughts run wild.

You sent the boys inside, making sure you and Wanda were alone before crawling on top of her. She sent a sultry smirk up at you, her hands ghosting your sides as you leaned down to press your lips to hers. A sinful sound escaped her throat, moaning into the kiss as your knee came in contact with her core. Pressing harder against her, she started to grind her hips against your knee, her dress hitching upwards to expose her thighs.

"Please," she sighed out as you pulled back from the kiss to mark her neck. Her hands clawed at your back as her hips moved against you, pleas tumbling out of her mouth. Your kisses moved to her neck then lower, worshiping the exposed parts of her breasts with small bites and open-mouthed kisses. The sounds she was making were intoxicating, making you addicted to trying the pull them out of her. "Fuck," she groaned, her accent coming out as she lost herself in the pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," you mutter while returning to crash your lips to hers. She whines into you, your tongue exploring her mouth while her hips move frantically against your knee.

"I'm so close," she moans, her hands moving to grasp at your toned arms that were supporting you upright.

"Do you want to come for me?" you husked out earning another whimper from her along with a nod, "Beg me."

"Please," her voice dripping with desperation, "I've been so good and I'm so close. You're making me feel so good so please let me come." You chuckled against her lips at her needy state and continued to press your leg down onto her core.

"Come for me," you rasped out before her body tensed and her orgasm ripped through her. A guttural moan erupted from the back of her throat as her body fell back against the chair. You kissed down her neck towards her chest before venturing lower and hovering at the bottom of her dress. Your hands itched upwards toward her soaking core, a finger running over the wet fabric of her panties. You moved-

A choked cough from your side knocked you out of your fantasy, Wanda on the other chair seeming to clear her throat with a blush painted across her cheeks. You quickly placed your hand on her back to see if she was ok, the skin hot under your touch as she looked at you with slightly darkened pupils.

"Are you alright?" your voice was concerned at the way she was acting but she quickly dismissed it.

"I'm fine," her voice a little breathless but you assumed that was from coughing. "It felt like there was something in my throat," you didn't fully believe her but pushed it to the side when refused to meet your eyes.

Soon the boys came running over, asking for you to play with them again, well, they more dragged you away, but it was fine. You jumped into the pool, the boys following straight after you, leaving Wanda to deal with what had just happened.

Wanda felt confused as she watched you innocently play with her boys as if you didn't just think of fucking her right here on the chair. She couldn't help but listen into your mind, your thoughts racing as you imagined her body squirming under you, being brought to pleasure again and again. She had heard your thoughts before, but they were smaller comments that flattered her, maybe making her heart flutter by the way you thought them, not anything like this before. You looked different in her eyes now, the idea of you wanting to dominant her sending a thrill down her body, especially between her legs. You were always attractive to Wanda but now she felt this urge of want for you as she heard how much you desired to her. She tried to push these thoughts away as she stood on shaky legs, making her way towards the kitchen to start dinner.

Later on, you found yourself stood by the sofa as the twins laid down, taking up most of the cushions and leaving you no room to sit. To be fair, you probably weren't supposed to be there, your babysitting hours over ages ago but when Wanda asked you to stay for dinner and a movie, you couldn't resist. Both boys cheekily smiled up at you and you rolled your eyes at their antics.

Vision sat on the armchair that was next to the sofa with the boys and Wanda, the woman squeezed on as her boys refused to move.

"Come on," Wanda's voice in mother mode, "Make some room for Y/n." They groaned but remained the way they were, and you chuckled before making your way around the sofa.

"It's alright I'll just sit on the floor," you said, taking a seat in front of where Wanda was sat. "Do you mind if I lean back?" you ask while looking over your shoulder, a smirk on your face as you look at her. Not trusting her words, she nods at you, and you move to rest against the sofa, her legs dangling next to your shoulders as you make yourself comfortable. You stick your tongue out at the boys, leaning your head back between Wanda's legs to put your head on the gap on the sofa. You moved your gaze over to Wanda who looked at you with a curious look as a mischievous expression took over your face. "So, Mom ," you teased the older woman making her roll her eyes. "What film are we going to watch?"

"Well," she leaned forwards and ran her fingers through your hair, ruffling it up as a joke making you pout at her, "It's Billy's turn to choose so it's up to him." Her eyes stayed trained on you as you craned your head back to look at her, the sight of her still stunning even upside down. You moved to face the Tv as Billy chose a film and tried to ignore the way your body craved for her to run her fingers through your hair again.

Vision sat with a small scowl on his face, not a huge fan of you as you always somehow caught his wife's attention. He knew he was away a lot for work but when he came back, he wanted to spend time with his family, yet you were always there.

Soon everyone seemed to be engrossed in the film, but you couldn't shake the thought of Wanda.

What would it feel like with her thighs wrapped around your head? Her smooth skin encased around you as you kissed her inner thighs, teasing her and making her squirm on top of you. She could be a wet shaking mess as you edge her again and again, leaving her to beg you to make her come. Opposingly, you could have her seated on your face, hands gripping at your hair while she screams your name all night long as you make her come as many times as possible. How many times would you be able to make her come in one night? Would she be able to squirt if you-

A low moan from behind you disrupted your thoughts, yours and Visions attention going to Wanda as she flushed red, the twins too busy with what was happening on the screen to notice. The older woman couldn't stop the sound that escaped her at your thoughts. The idea of being give an orgasm would have been satisfactory for her, Vision being careless about her during sex, while you wanted her to do it as many times as possible. She subtly clenched her thighs together, desperate to relieve the heat building there.

"Are you alright dear?" Vision asked while you continued to look up at her from your seat on the carpet. She avoided your intense gaze, not wanting the idea of you below her at the moment and cleared her throat.

"Yes, I'm fine," she dismissed, trying to quickly think of an excuse to cover up the noise.

"Are you sure?" he looked at her with a quizzical look, her mouth opening before the sound of his phone ringing cut her off. "Sorry I need to take this," he leaves the room answering the phone and you turn your gaze back onto the film, trying to understand what was going on as you missed part of it with your thoughts of a certain person.

A few minutes later Vision returned, a small bag packed with him as he rushed around the room.

"I'm sorry but I have to go to London for a meeting about a new deal with a large investor," his words made the boys frown, complaints about how he's always away for work spilling out of their mouths. He quickly says goodbyes to them, kissing each of them on their foreheads along with a short peck on the cheek to Wanda. The door shut with a small thud; the twins sad at how he had gone. You tried to cheer them up while Wanda walked outside to try and catch her husband. Looking at the time, you asked them if they were ready for bed, their heads nodding as they had lost interest in the movie. It didn't take long to get them into bed as they were already in their pyjamas, tucking them in so they were comfortable and able to drift off.

When you arrived back to the living room you saw Wanda sat by herself, eyes moving off the screen towards you. Offering a small smile, you sat next to her and started to watch the film when she spoke up.

"I need to have a word with you about something," her voice was nervous and that caused a small panic inside you. "It's probably going to sound stupid but-"

"Nothing you say is stupid, Wanda," you reassure despite being anxious about what she wants to talk to you about.

"I can read minds," she says, eyes watching you and waiting for you to burst out in laughter, but you don't, you just look at her trying to understand what's going on, "And I've been hearing your thoughts recently as they've been quite loud." Your face pales momentarily, knowing how sinful your thoughts about her have been. Your mouth opens and closes, trying to say something but not sure what to but she speaks before you can. "They were...flattering" your eyes hesitantly meet hers and when you see the blush on her cheeks and how her eyes darken you don't feel as anxious. "They um made me feel..." she trailed off, clenching her thighs together which you notice, the action making your lips twitch into a smirk.

"How did my thoughts make you feel?" you purred out, confidence running through you as you watched her attempting to keep her composure. The blush on her cheeks deepened and you moved a hand slowly to her face, giving her time to move away if she wanted, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was her turn to be speechless, her body focussing how close your body was to her, your hand lingering to cup her cheek. "Did you like them?" your hand moved from her face to her thigh, squeezing gently while leaning closer to her face.

"Yes," she whispered out shyly, your lips millimetres away from hers causing her gaze to lower.

"What did you like about them?" her brain was clouded by arousal as you teased her lips, a shaky sigh leaving her when you bit your lip in anticipation of her answer.

"They made me feel so," she dragged out her words, removing her gaze from your lips to your eyes to tell you why she liked them, "Wanted, hot, wet ." You let out a small groan at her words and moved your hand up further on her thigh, her breath hitching.

"Can I kiss you?" she answered your question by crashing her lips to yours, her hands moving to your shoulders to keep you close. You bit her lip and dragged it back gently before delving in for another kiss, this time exploring her mouth with your tongue earning a groan in response. Her body moves forwards, straddling your lap as she tilts her head down to move her mouth against yours. Her hands return to your hair like you wanted, nails scratching at your scalp while her hips softly grind down.

"Shit," she muttered when your hands glided over her stomach and brushed the underside of her breasts through the summer dress she was still wearing. A smirk engraved itself on your lips as you placed kisses from her ear to her jaw, venturing down her neck and sucking faint red marks into the soft skin. Your hands gently cupped her breasts, a sigh leaving her lips, and squeezed softly.

"Please," the tone of her voice sending a shiver down your spine at how desperate she already sounded. You chuckled at her collar bones, determined in kissing every inch of skin exposed to you and worked your fingers at stimulating her nipples. You could feel them harden under your fingertips and pulled on them earning a loud gasp and a harsher grind of her hips in your lap.

You looked up briefly to see her biting her lip, trying to contain her sounds as the way her hips were moving against you meant the fabric was brushing against her clit in the most perfect way. Your hands left her breasts and ran down her body to reach the hem of the dress. Your eyes asked the question if this was alright to which she nodded at and moved her hands to pull the dress over her head.

"Wow," you murmured while scanning over her exposed body, the sight of her breasts making your mouth water. She chuckled at your awed expression but that swiftly turned into a moan when you took a nipple into your mouth and sucked. You alternated between sucking and licking around the sensitive flesh, one of your hands mimicking the actions on the other breast while your other hand rested on her hips, guiding her movements. Her hips started to move more frantically as she neared her orgasm, her breathing becoming more laboured as she desperately moved against you.

"I'm- Fuck," her hips stuttered and legs tensed around you as a guttural moan erupted from her throat. You let go of her breast with a pop and moved to muffle her sounds with a bruising kiss. She whimpered against you as she rode out her high, her panties now well and truly soaked.

"That's one," you rasp out, her eyes fluttering open as you kissed around her face. "I didn't even need to use my hands," you teased, "I wonder how hard I can make you come with them." You returned to her chest, worshipping them while your hands drifted to her thighs to caress them. Lightly, you trailed your finger up and down her dripping panties, her hips bucking at the touch, and slowly started to circle her clit through the wet fabric.

"Y/n," she whines, hands clutching at the back of your shirt. You shush her by going back to her lips, the faint reminiscent of wine on her lips addictive.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," you mutter before moving her panties to the side and slipping a finger through her folds. She moans into your mouth at the feeling, your finger teasing her entrance.

"Please," she begs quietly in between kisses making you thrust your finger into her. Her walls clench around the digit, her hips moving to grind down on your hand as you slowly thrust it in and out, curling it inside her. You can't help the groan that leaves your lips when Wanda moves to suck at your neck in attempt of hiding her moans. Her teeth nip at the hot flesh and her hands scratch your back through the fabric of your shirt. You add another finger into her and start a leisurely pace of pumping them into her which slowly drives her mad. All she can feel is you, the skin under her mouth as she marks you, one of your hands gripping her ass while the other is buried knuckle deep inside her, slowly dragging another orgasm out of her.

"Faster," she pleas, her hips practically trying to ride your fingers to reach her high. You listen to her and increase your pace whilst moving your other hand to circle at her clit. Her walls tighten around you as her body tenses on top of you again. To muffle the scream that leaves her lips, she bites down hard on your shoulder, the sound still reverberating around the room as she comes for a second time. Pants of breath fill the room as she closes her eyes and leans her forehead against yours, trying to stop her body from trembling.

"That's two," you whisper earning a breathless laugh and a smile. You let her recover and wait for her to set the pace again as her mouth slowly moves against yours before the kiss turns hungry and passionate. You let her take control for a few minutes, her tongue exploring your mouth while her hands searched your body. When she pulled back because air was necessary, you moved to nibble on her ear lobe and husked, "I want a taste," before moving your body so you were on your back on the sofa, her still straddling your waist.

Your earlier thoughts came to mind when you looked up at her, Wanda's mind racing as she remembered how you wanted her to sit on your face while you brought her pleasure. She stood briefly to remove her drenched panties, her fully naked now in front of you and climbed onto you so she could hover above your face. Your eyes were lust filled as you stared at her core, her wetness dripping and coating her thighs causing you to stifle a groan at the sight.

When she lowered herself onto your face, you both moaned at the action. The feeling of your mouth of her pussy sent waves of pleasure through her while you couldn't help but moan at the taste of her. Eagerly, you took her clit into your mouth and sucked at the sensitive flesh. Her hands threaded through your hair, encouraging you to continue eating her out by gently trying to move you where she wanted. Eventually, you flattened your tongue and just let her grind against it, her hips thrusting at your face in search of another orgasm. It didn't take long for her to be on edge again and her moans turned to whimpers as the coil in her stomach snapped. She came with a silent scream this time, hands gripping your hair making you moan into her, the vibrations prolonging her high.

"Three," you murmured while kissing and licking up her juices around her thighs and core. She panted above you, smiling down at you as you lathered her in affection. She motioned to get off your face, her body tired and sensitive but you wrapped your arms around her thighs keeping her sat on your face. "Come on," you mutter against her core, the hot breath causing her hips to move subconsciously, "I know you can do one more." Your tone was low and sultry making a new wave of arousal sit in her core. "Your body is basically begging for it," you taunt, noticing how her hips were already moving closer to your face. "Is this ok?" her face softens as you check she's comfortable and she nods in response. Yes, her body was tired from three powerful orgasms already, but the image of you between her legs and teasing her was too big an opportunity to miss out on.

Your hands stroked the soft skin of her thighs, feeling how they trembled under your touch while your tongue licked through her folds. You teased her briefly before thrusting your tongue into her, groaning at the feeling of her wrapped around you. You wasted no time in swirling your tongue inside her and thrusting it in and out of her. She moaned on top of you, hands groping at her chest while she moved across your face. After repeating the motion a few times, she came with a small cry, her throat becoming hoarse from moaning so much. Her thighs shook around your head, so you soothingly moved your hands across them to let her calm down and counted once again, "Four."

"I can't feel my legs," she whispered from above making you chuckle as they still spasmed slightly around you. You helped her move off your face and onto the sofa so she was laying down. Her green eyes stared at you as you collected her scattered clothes and threw them into the washing machine in the kitchen before returning with a soft smile.

"Are you alright?" you whispered while tucking your arms under her to carry her to her room as she yawned. She hummed in response, her eyes fluttering close as her body wanted reset and you placed her in bed before wrapping the duvet around her.

"Stay, please," she sleepily whispered. You listened to her drowsy request and climbed in behind her, wrapping your arm around her middle and cuddling her. It didn't take long for both of you to tangle under the sheets, locked in an embrace, and drift off to sleep.

---

Have I ever been sabotaged in a swimming race like this before? Yes, yes I have and I'm still salty about it 

I hope you enjoyed :)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3 They're much appreciated!

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger 

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I dont know if you done this already, but what about you logan x fem reader fic, where reader is the little sister of Charles xavier or Eric, and they keep their relationship secret, but then everyone finds out and readers brother gets really protective of her and has a talk with logan trying to scare him off but it doesn't work

.⋆｡Worst Possible Decision｡⋆.

Logan x plus size reader

How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.

Warnings: angst, gunshots, burns/fire, fluff, protective!erik, descriptions of pain, reader is german but there’s no further description than vague references WC: 2.7k

A/N: This went a little off of the request but I hope you still like it and I’m sorry for how long it took!

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

She was too much like her brother in a lot of ways, but at the same time, they couldn’t be more different. Where Erik could command any room he walked into, she blended, finding a home in the shadows where she could be hidden. He exuded confidence and a suave attitude that could charm anyone. She was meek, shy but with a power bubbling under the surface that felt like an even bigger threat than any her brother could come up with.

Erik shot first and asked questions later, Y/N wouldn’t ask, she would get all the answers she needed with a single look and then dispose of the trash without so much as a flick of her wrist. While Erik controlled metal, Y/N controlled pain.

Logan met the brother and sister duo long before the mutants were fractured. He noted how beautiful she was, even when he only glanced at her through his peripheral vision. She was curvy, with a belly and plump thighs. He told them to go fuck themselves.

The next time she saw him, she was alone. She seemed lopsided without her brother beside her, incomplete. Logan saw the way her hackles raised when Charles screamed at him to leave, calling him a liar. He saw how she flinched when Erik was mentioned. 

Wolverine knew what happened between them, the rift that hadn’t ever been healed, even after her death in the far future. He was stunned by her beauty then, finally seeing her in the flesh after so many years, alive and well. Logan pulled her to the side as soon as they were alone, embracing her. Y/N tried to push him off but when she felt his pain, the raw burning like his nerves were on fire, she wrapped her soft arms around him, easing him.

“Stay alive.” He told her. “Do whatever you have to, you have to live.” He pleaded before he was pulled back to the future but not without kissing her like it was the last time. He stole her breath away as he poured every ounce of love as he could into her lips. 

When Logan strolled into the Manor many years after that kiss, Y/N stayed away from him. He was so much younger, so much more whole. She could see now the pieces of him that would break away over the years and it hurt her. She knew what was going to happen to him, what had happened to him. But he cornered her eventually.

“You seem to already know who I am.” She shivered when she heard his voice call out to her from the infirmary door. 

“You made a very big impression on the school.” Her accent had long since disappeared, snuffed out by the need to be hidden, to be safe. She didn’t look at him, instead concentrating on cataloguing the new medical supplies that had been delivered the day before.

The mutant huffed, clearly not content with her answer. “You avoid me like the plague while everyone else is indifferent.” Her eyes flicked up to him briefly.

“Maybe I have decided that I already don’t like you. You did threaten to abandon a young mutant on the side of the road.” He scoffed at the mention of Rogue.

“She had it comin’.” He shrugged. “So what is it exactly that you do?” His large body lounged against the one hospital bed in the room. She couldn’t help but glance up at him. He was physically older, slight grey in his sideburns, more lines on his face but his eyes weren’t as sad, the deep brown swirling with emotions he was trying desperately to tamp down but hadn’t learned how yet. 

He was still incredibly handsome though. He walked with a confidence that came from youth, that blind faith in himself and his strength that made him cocky and untouchable. Y/N turned away. “I’m the school’s nurse, I thought that was pretty obvious, given I’m in the infirmary.”

Logan grunted, crossing his thick arms over his chest, holding a beer bottle between two of his fingers. “I was talkin about yer power, bub.” That made her smile, the corner of her lips turning up. She wouldn’t admit it out loud but she missed his attitude. 

“I control pain. It’s useful.” She shrugs off the question with a half answer. She picked up the last of the supplies on the infirmary bed, making a note on her clipboard before putting them away. 

She heard him huff and a silence settled over the room but it was not awkward or uncomfortable, it was just… silence. The beer in his bottle swished as he gulped down the last of the brew. The supply closet’s door swung shut with a creak and she chanced another look at the man.

She couldn’t ignore the way his muscles bulged so she forced herself to turn away. It would do her no good to get involved with him in any capacity, even if her heart screamed for him. Logan took the hint, leaving the infirmary with a grumble and a glance back at her.

It was impossible to completely avoid someone like Logan, even in a school as large as the academy. He seemed to appear in moments when her guard was down, lurking in the corner of her vision like a ghost. His blue eyes locked onto her whenever they would be in the same room, both undressing her and observing her with some morbid fascination.

But no matter how hard she tried, her lips still ached from that kiss all those years ago and her heart burned to know what would become of them in the future.

——————

“You seem awfully close with the professor.” The manor was silent, a much needed reprieve after the long day of classes in Logan’s case and lots of skinned knees in Y/N’s. An ancient record player crooned in the corner of the huge sitting room, bathing its two occupants in pleasant song which was quickly becoming more of a lullaby. The older mutant sat on one end of the couch with his companion lying across the rest, a thick book propped up on her chest and her sock-clad feet dangerously close to his lap.

She let the statement sink in for a moment as Logan took another sip from his glass of bourbon he had pilfered from Charles’s not-so-well hidden stash. “Are you asking me something or just talking out loud?” He rolled his eyes.

“What do you think darlin’?” He snapped but his usual condescending tone was replaced with a sarcastic tilt to his voice. Her lips quirked up and she shut her book, letting it rest on her sternum as she met his gaze.

“Yes, Charles and I are very close. I’m the same way with Hank and Alex, we’ve all been here since the beginning.” She knew her answer was one that was far more simple than he would’ve liked but she wouldn’t give him the full story unless he asked. 

Logan dropped his left hand from where it had been resting upon his chest onto his meaty thigh, the edge of his palm now just grazing the tip of her fuzzy socks. “Are you fucking him?” The question was so unexpected that Y/N choked on her own spit. She shot up as she coughed, tucking her legs beneath her. Too caught up in catching her breath, she missed the way his eyes dulled at the loss of her closeness.

“Scheiße.” The German naturally slipped from her lips and she thumped her chest with a closed fist. “God no! Having a telepath as a friend is bad enough, I could never imagine dating one.” He smirked, letting out a pleased chuff. 

“So…” He prompted. Y/N leaned back into the couch. They now sat side-by-side and Logan was able to study her profile as she eased the drink from his hand, finishing it off in one gulp.

Her face was solemn, haunted by something he couldn’t quite place, even in his many decades of life. She looked as if she were in mourning. “I traded one overprotective brother for another.” 

——————

Logan’s legs ached as he ran, the smoke from the fires that raged around him singed his senses. Flames licked up the sides of the manor as gunshots still echoed across the fields, even if the fighting had already stopped. They had come in the dead of night, guns and torches lighting their way. 

The school had always been a risk, especially being so close to town. But young mutants needed a place to go. It was inevitable that those who hated them would try to run them out, they all thought they had more time.

It was her voice that pulled Logan from his retreat. Laced with tears, she was comforting one of the older students as he nursed a severe burn to his arm. They were laid out in the grass which was still damp from the early morning dew. Y/N cupped his face with glowing hands and Logan could clearly see the pain that rippled through her.

More students gathered around them, each with an injury of their own, each begging for some kind of relief. Exhaustion painted her face as her body wound tight with agony. The ground shook as Logan dropped to his knees next to her. 

“Give me their pain.” She was withering away right before his eyes, driven only by a need to protect, to give the children comfort in the only way she knew how. She shook her head and instead moved to a girl who was no older than 13. A flesh wound cut across her leg, the edges of the wound burned with residual gunpowder. 

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips as she took the girl’s pain and Logan watched as the woman began to wither away. She was killing herself. 

“Give me their fucking pain.” He yanked her hands away from the girl and laid them on his broad chest. She thrashed in his hold in an attempt to pull away but he wouldn’t budge.

Her eyes met his and she froze. This was the moment that he had warned her about so many years before, a premonition that he would never remember. But to give her pain, her gift, to someone else, she couldn’t even fathom it. “Please.” He begged, squeezing her hands in his own. She was weakening, she doubted she could stop him even if she tried.

Logan felt like he was burning alive as gunshots ripped through his arms and legs. And yet he smiled at her and in that moment, something shifted between them. “That’s it doll face.” Heat rushed to her cheeks and it wasn’t because of the fire that still blazed behind them. 

——————

The sounds of power tools and hammers were almost constant nowadays as the mutants worked together to rebuild the crumbling school. Y/N strolled happily through the halls, the walls still blackened from the fire. The students were gone, taken home by their families or sent to safe houses around the country, leaving only a few teachers who wanted to lend a hand. 

“They’re working quite quickly.” Charles noted from his place where the greenhouse used to sit. A handful of people, including Logan, Hank, Alex and Rogue among others were steadily building a large room across the way- a brand new library.

Y/N chuckled as she handed him a cup of lemonade. “They have a goal to achieve. This school is important to all of us.” He grinned slyly at his long time friend. 

“I’m sure one of them has another motivation for working so hard.” His blue eyes flicked to the love bite that peaked from her collar. 

“Shut up.” She muttered with a kick to his wheelchair, Charles laughed under his breath as she walked away to the man responsible for her tender steps and slight limp. As much as Charles loved to tease, he loved even more that she was smiling again and the pain that always seemed to radiate from her mind was now a dull ache that was easily chased away by the touch of her lover. 

As soon as she was near enough, Logan abandoned his work, his full attention turned to her. Her laugh carried through the summer breeze like a bird song as he wrapped her up in his arms, lathering her face in kisses. The others rolled their eyes and continued their work as the couple embraced.

“I see my absence was not missed.” Erik’s cool tone froze Charles’s blood. 

Rage rolled off the mutant in waves as he glared at the man who was all over his precious sister. His knuckles turned pale and Charles could almost hear the way his muscles tensed. “Erik, what a surprise. I thought you were still on the run.” He looked up at his old friend though he almost didn’t recognise him. His eyes were so much older, his soul so much darker but yet, it was still him. 

Y/N had yet to notice her brother, too wrapped up in the arms of her lover but as she pressed another kiss to his cheek, Erik’s anger mounted. He knew what Logan was, knew exactly what pain he was capable of inflicting. “How long?” He growled.

“A couple months though I suspect that Logan had been pining for her since the moment he met her.” Perhaps it was optimistic of Charles to divulge details of their relationship to Erik, but he was a romantic at heart. “Logan saved her life, Erik.” 

Her laughter did nothing to ease the furrow in his brow but the way that Logan grabbed at her ample backside absolutely did something. 

“Logan?” Y/N asked curiously as the man in her arms suddenly froze and his eyes widened almost comically. “Are you ok?” She cupped his cheek and pain unlike anything she had ever imagined rocketed through her veins. Her bones felt like they were twisting in upon themselves, severing nerves and destroying her body from the inside out. She could feel Logan’s flesh move unnaturally as she pulled him closer to her.

“Logan!” Her hands pressed harder into his jaw in an attempt to steal the violent sensation from him but still, his chest echoed with his suffering.

“Erik enough!” Her head whipped around, as did the attentions of all the other mutants gathered around. The fury in his eyes was like nothing she had seen before, as if he was looking at a roach he had crushed under his boot. His knuckles paled with the force of his power. 

A howl of pain escaped Logan’s lips, finally breaking Y/N from her trance. “Release him or I’ll fucking break you.” She snarled and for just a moment, Erik faltered. 

His hold wavered briefly but it was enough for Charles to grab his wrist and completely break his focus. “This is beyond childish.” He scolded as Y/N pulled her partner behind her but her deadly glare remained firmly on her brother. Erik didn’t bother to respond, instead his shoulders dropped in surrender and Logan collapsed, the pain finally dissipating.

There was a flurry of movement as she fell to her knees and the others rushed to make sure they were alright. “She’s happy, she’s safe. Leave it alone.” But Erik ignored his friend. His Y/N was gone and perhaps she had been for years. This woman that threatened him when he hurt a boy, as he had done dozens of times in the past with no fight from her, was not the girl he grew up with.

She stood up straight all on her own. She didn’t need Erik to balance her nor Logan to push her up, perhaps that’s why her brother slipped out in the dead of night, leaving behind the one thing that kept him tethered to his humanity. Y/N would awaken the next morning in the protective hold of the man she loved and find a single coin, rusted with age and stained with dried blood on her nightstand. She knew that she would not hear from him again, Erik was dead, only Magneto remained.

The worst decision indeed.

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── ୨୧ !　𝗟𝗘𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗘𝗦

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N feels pain in her feet from wearing high heels for hours, and Matt gives her his sneakers to wear.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

From an outsider's perspective, the dynamics of the relationship between Y/N and Matt were incredible and unique. The two had their hearts overflowing with love, and they were not ashamed to show it.

Nick joked that the five love languages ​​were few compared to all the ways they loved each other.

But it was safe to say that out of the five, the one that was most part of their daily lives was the language of acts of service, precisely because of their busy schedules and daily tasks.

Matt would do absolutely anything to make his girlfriend's day easier, from turning on the coffee maker in the morning while she took her sacred morning shower, to combing and drying her hair after she washed it. He is always watching her from afar, making little mental notes of new things she does, so he learns and fits them into his routine so that he can help her in the future.

And Y/N isn't far behind, knowing how heavy the routine of recording three times a week can be - sometimes more, when the triplets need to catch up on some podcasts or car videos -, she always comes forward to help his day get lighter, from starting the car in the garage on cold days so the engine is ready when Matt gets in it, to helping him shower after a tiring day, washing his hair with his favorite shampoo while watching him nap in the warm water of the bathtub.

It was Thursday, and Matt and Y/N were leaving yet another weekly date night.

Matt and Y/N had created a habit almost a year back that, every Thursday after the triplets recorded the car video that would be posted the next day, they would have a date night, with the aim of always dedicating quality time together and cultivate a healthy relationship.

Y/N mentally cursed herself for her choice of shoes that night, having opted for high heels.

Don't get me wrong, the girl loved wearing heels and always felt prettier in them; Besides Matt, who was completely in love with the way his girlfriend's legs looked in heels, he said that they looked longer and more appealing, leaving him drooling and staring more than usual.

But if there's one thing they both knew, it was that when Y/N wore high heels for long hours, she always ended up with pain in her feet.

And that was exactly what was happening at that moment, the girl had been wearing those heels on her feet for about three hours and her toes were starting to hurt, squeezed by the front strap, while her heel screamed with every step she took.

It didn't take Matt long to notice her face contorted in pain and how she squeezed his hand - which was intertwined with her own - with every step they took.

The two were walking through the streets of the restaurant where they had dinner, observing the various restaurants and bars open, full of people of all types and music of all tastes, while chatting a bit about their day. This meant they were far from the car, and it would be at least a 10-minute walk to get back to it.

Therefore, Matt abruptly stopped in his tracks as they approached a wooden bench, followed by Y/N, who watched him with a confused expression.

"What is it, baby?" She asked worriedly, traveling her eyes down the street briefly, trying to find what could have made her boyfriend stop so suddenly.

Matt knelt on the sidewalk and removed his sneakers from both his feet, keeping his socks on.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?" The girl looked down at him, watching him with a frown.

"Sit here, baby. Please." Matt asked, standing up on his socks and pointing to the bench, taking Y/N's right hand and helping her sit down on the wooden surface. "Give me your foot." He kneeled on the ground, placing his sneakers near her feet and reaching his hands towards his girlfriend's right foot.

"What? Why?" She asked, eyes wide, feeling cimpletely lost, bending her body slightly forward so that she brought her face closer to his, a sound of pain escaping her lips from the movement.

"You're in pain, my love. Come on, give me your foot. I'll give you my sneakers." Matt explains, touching Y/N's right ankle and pulling lightly.

He raised his blue eyes, looking into his girl's eyes, staring at her so that she understood that he wasn't open for arguments.

Y/N sighed before resting her left hand on the cold and hard surface, lifting her right ankle so that her foot was off the ground. Matt unfastened the buckle on her high heel, leaving it on the sidewalk on his side before reaching for his right sneaker, fitting it onto Y/N's foot with ease.

He untied the shoelaces and tied them again so that they were firmer, knowing that they were bigger than Y/N's feet and could escape with her steps.

The girl kept her eyes on Matt the entire time, feeling her heart speed up more and more and her skin heat up, taking on a reddish tone. She didn't deserve him. He was so kind to her.

Matt carefully lowered the foot he was holding, waiting for her to steady it on the ground before taking her left ankle, doing the same process as before.

When Y/N had both feet inside Matt's white sneakers, the boy adjusted his posture, still crouched, so that he could fit his feet one at a time into the high heels, leaving them unbuckled due to the difference in size, knowing that if he closed it, he could ruin them.

Matt slowly stood up, regaining his balance on the pair of heels that he wasn't used to wearing before intertwining his left hand with Y/N's right, helping her stand up. He briefly adjusted the strap of the black sparkly purse on his left shoulder.

"I can't believe you're doing this." The girl commented as the two walked back to the car, a laugh escaping her throat as she shook her head, watching the wobbly steps her boyfriend took.

"I won't let my princess feel pain. And I didn't want to get dirt on my socks from this sidewalk. Our washing machine thanks us for that." Matt responded with a smile on his face, watching his girlfriend's reaction from the corner of his eye, keeping his focus on his steps in order not to fall.

"I love you, Matt." Y/N squeezed his hand lightly, massaging the soft skin with her thumb.

"I love you more, my love." The boy responded quickly, returning the squeeze.

He let go of his girlfriend's hand as they reached his car, opening the purse on his shoulder and looking for the key, before unlocking the doors, opening the passenger seat for his girlfriend.

Y/N smiled in gratitude, approaching Matt and sealing her lips over his cheek chilled by the cold of the night, stroking the soft skin with the tip of her nose before taking a step away, finally getting into the car.

She felt her heart warm with love while observing him walk around the front of the car with slow steps. She knew that there was nothing in the world he wouldn't do to make her happy and comfortable.

taglist:

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[amostimprobabledream]

The Sweetest Violence (Homelander x Reader)

Just a lil drabble, also available on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57696463

"Sssh..." Blood. So much blood. The fetid stink of it is everywhere. It fills up your nostrils and chokes up your senses. It's thick and sticky in your hair, hot and drying in stiff patches on your skin. You feel like you could take a hundred showers, soak in the bath for hours and hours and it still wouldn't get rid of the sensation of blood clinging to your flesh. Homelander doesn't seem to notice or care about the blood. He carries you easily, clasped to is chest, his own face splashed with blood, dark patches of it staining his blonde hair. The brilliant blue of his eyes seems to burn through a streaky veil of scarlet, made all the more vivid by the contrast. "It's all right," he whispers to you as he walks, his soothing tone at odds with the gore-soaked state of him. "It's okay now. Ssh. You must've been scared, huh?" Yes. You were. The people who took you saw you as nothing more than an object, a tool with which they could use against Homelander. You could tell by the impersonal way they handled you, the way they barley looked at you and didn't bat an eyelid at your screams and shouts. That scared you more than anything, the dead, cold looks in their eyes, like you were trying to communicate with machines, not people. If they could be so indifferent to your fear and confusion, what would they care about doing more permanent damage?

So, when you heard it - the rush of air and signature boom of one of Homelander's signature landings, those dramatic superhero drops that signify I am here, it was like divine intervention. The relief that hit you was like no high you'd ever experienced before, the way you imagine a shipwreck survivor must feel when they finally see the boat that's come to save them after being stranded in the brutal, unforgiving seas. That was, until Homelander got to work. Bodies. Ripped apart like paper. Heads not rolling but exploding like watermelons struck by a bat. Unholy shrieks of horror and agony drowned out in wet gurgles of blood. Eyes shining like warning lights in the gloom - inhuman, like a monster from a nightmare. You could only curl up as best you could and close your eyes to the carnage, a sob tangled in your throat, but you couldn't quite drown out the screaming and your imagination supplied you plenty of images that rivalled the horror of what was happening.

When Homelander calmly melted the chains on you and hoisted you up into his arms, you briefly wondered if you were about to die too - even though he'd come to rescue you. Your mind  is in a haze -a long time ago, somebody had explained to you the difference between horror and terror, and you felt it keenly now. You're not screaming or thrashing to escape, or outwardly freaking out at all. Instead, you feel like you've been plunged into a pool of still, frigid water and simply wait under the surface, unwilling to expend any energy into swimming up to the surface and peering out at whatever may lay above. You retreat into numbness, curiously swamped with cold despite how hot Homelander is. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his suit, your breath coming out in sharp little pants. Homelander can hear the frantic pounding of your heart and how you breathe like there isn't enough air, but he assumes that it's from the fear of being kidnapped, of men in dark clothes and with dead eyes. It probably hasn't even crossed your mind that the one who has driven you to this heightened state of fear is him. And you don't want him to think it, so you nuzzle deeper into him, you can't seem to stop hyperventilating no matter how you try. "S'okay," Homelander shushes you, misunderstanding your trembling, a gloved hand petting your hair like he's trying to soothe a skittish animal. He's so monstrously strong he can hold you, a grown woman, easily to his body with just one arm, and you automatically wrap your legs around him, a gesture you've done many times before, but never in this context. He's being so gentle with you that it's hard to believe you just witnessed a man being torn in half by Homelander's bare hands. "You're safe. I've got you." Yes, he does. You're locked in his powerful embrace like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. You bury your face in his chest to hide your expression as well as seeking comfort - it seems perverse to look for it from a man soaked in blood, but what else can you do? You let yourself be lulled into a calmer state, his warmth seeping into you and the slow, rhythmic motions of his hand in your hair weirdly comforting.

But you don't miss the gravel, the hint of threat in his voice when he speaks again. You know it's not directed at you, not his sweetheart, but you still feel a shiver lick down your spine as he speaks; "No one will ever take you away from me."

[ethereal-night-fairy]

A Lick and a Promise

Chapter 2

Outlaw!Ghost x Female Reader x Outlaw!Soap

You let devils into your home. But why were they kinder than the saints in your town?

Warnings: MDNI, Arson, crude historical language (not by Ghoap), objectification (not by Ghoap), religious themes, small bit of fluff, period typical misogyny, kidnapping, implied physical abuse, sad backstory, implied theft, sorry if I missed any.

A Lick and a Promise Masterlist

Masterlist

Words: 2.5k

Fire…there was fire engulfing the town you were meant to call home. Flames erupted from the trees as if the gates of hell had been opened. You see the flames lick and dance around the wooden buildings as the horses race away from the chaos that was unfolding. The smell of fiery damnation was cementing itself into your mind, it engraved itself onto your skin like a branding.

Everything hurt…

Hot air whipped against your bruised and beaten flesh while you continued to struggle on the horse you were forced on. The smoke stings. You hear their screams in the growing distance as the mayor's home is surrounded by dark clouds of smoke.

Why? Why was this happening? Why did they take it so far?

You keep twisting your head back to watch from you were forced to ride with the men you foolishly helped the week prior. You continue watching as tears stream down your face. His arms are as tight as a vice despite you pounding your hands on his thighs. He doesn't let go, he doesn't even flinch no matter how many times you scream, beg or hit him. Your small home grows further away by the second. The little life you built for yourself shattered in the time it takes to saddle a horse with stolen goods. The fast movements of the horse jerks you uncomfortably as you clench onto whatever you can to steady yourself.

Everything was becoming too much, the screams, the fire, the smell of burning, the pain, your pain. Your eyes burn into the back of the man with the skull face. Never in your life have you seen a man beat another bloody like he had. The worst part was you felt relieved when it had happened. You felt safe with them even if that feeling only lasted briefly. But why did they want to protect you? Why did they care?

You had let devils enter your home. But these devils were kinder than the saints in town, yet you were deceived by their kindness. They took you without remorse. You don't know why you thought just because these two men were soft to each other that perhaps they'd be good people, perhaps they wouldn't hurt you like everyone else did. You should never have helped them. You should have told them to leave the second they had awoken. Look at where your kindness has gotten you. Kidnapped and probably on the road to your demise. You've become an outlaw by association. What were they going to do with you? Whore you out for money? Sell you to a ranch? Have their fun with you only to leave you drowned in a stream? Was their kindness just a ruse so you'd agree to help them in return for safety?

In the back of your mind you wanted to believe they had your best interest at heart, that they weren't going to hurt you. That they were too kind to do that. Yet you'd be foolish to trust outlaws on the run again. They had dragged you to damnation with them. Now the whole town hates you even more than before. It won't be long until your face begins being printed on wanted posters…

-The week prior

The blazing sun gradually made its way further up from the horizon. The sunshine beamed down on the river, making the blue water glitter and gleam on the surface as you watched on. Birds chirped as you enjoyed the warmth of the weather bestowed upon you.

Cold water prickles your hands as you tug the rope to gather the fish traps you had laid in the river yesterday. Thankfully it seemed heavy this time around. You’ll be able to make something for the poor men burning with fevers on your mattress. You hadn't wanted to leave them alone but you had work to do. You needed to gather water for their horses and collect your traps. The small vegetable patch also needed watering so you'd probably have to make another round trip to the river.

Once the dripping basket is in your hands you haul it to the riverbed, struggling as the fish jump around in the woven material. It takes a couple minutes for the movement to finally stop. You deposit all of your catch which consists of a handful of freshwater prawn, three haddock and some anchovies. You gut the fish using the river water to clean off the blood. You hated doing this part but it wasn't like you had anyone to help you anymore.

You missed your parents dearly. Well your mother was dead there's no bringing her back but you wished your daddy would find his way back home to clear his name. That he’ll explain that everything was a misunderstanding and he didn't take anyone's money. He wasn't that kind of man you knew that. He always taught you how to work for an honest living. He lived like that for as long as you can remember. There was no way he ran off with the mayor's money. Yet you had no way to prove his innocence since he disappeared.

Once you're done you place everything in a bucket and carry both the fish and the water back to your little home. You've been struggling to gather game for a couple weeks now, the majority of the traps you'd set were often tampered with or stolen by the time you got back to them. You've resorted to fishing for the time being. You wished the townspeople wouldn't hate you so much. They had already kicked you out of your town home. And returning to your old town was out of the question. It was miles away and you didn't trust anyone in town to take you there, you also didn't have the money to pay them. And you were still hopeful your daddy would return one day.

You're deep in thought on how you're going to prepare for the coming winter when two horses race by you. You halt in fear as you try to make sense of what was happening while trying to clear your vision of dirt. When the dust finally settles your met with two piercing eyes of what looks to be a sheriff of a different town. His uniform is pristine, his bright badge gleams in the morning sun almost blinding you. He had a stern look to him. By the looks of his white hair you'd think he's much older than he is.

“Little lady you shouldn't be out so far out of town by yourself! There's two outlaws on the loose, haven't you heard!?” You take in his stern tone, your mind racing with the information he's just given you. But before you can answer the older gentleman the person beside him speaks up. The voice is jarring as it cuts through your eardrums, bringing back awful memories. It belonged to a man you so unfortunately recognised.

“Don't bother with her sheriff, she's a twofer (loose women). You couldn't make an honest woman out of her even if you tried. She's better off dealing with outlaws by her own self,” all you can do is glare as you take in the hardened face of the mayor's brother. You hadn't realised that he had become a deputy. It's been so long since he's come bothering you, you'd hope he had died of dysentery. You feel bad for the woman in his town. He's probably already abusing the authority he's been given. The sheriff is stunned into silence. But before you can defend yourself from the now balding Calvin, he opens his big mouth again.

“I wouldn't be surprised if she was stealing from the town again, just like her old man eh. Did he ever come back darlin’ or is he still on the run? Have ye resorted to selling your backside for some extra dollars? I wouldn't be surprised if you did,” he lets out a boastful laugh eyeing your patched up dress.

“I told you you'll regret rejecting my marriage proposal. What? I didn't have enough money to satisfy you? You're no better than a trug (low class prostitute). Won't be long until I see you working at the bed-house. I might even take pity on you and try you out for night,” he smirks down at you from his horse as you try to avoid his leering gaze.

Tears obstruct your vision but you try to keep them at bay. You wanted to call him every name in the book for saying all these baseless accusations about you. But he was a beef headed ten cent man who enjoyed tormenting women, especially those who reject his advances. You weren't the first and you wouldn't be the last to deal with his god awful lecherous behaviour.

“Pull in your horns Calvin! That's no way to talk to a lady!”, the sheriff buts in.

“She's no lady sheriff, a trat (pretty girl) maybe but she's a filthy con. One that likes to toll (to entice) men for money,” Calvin continues his rant in spite.

“Stop airin’ your lungs. Excuse us ma’am we'll be on our way then,” though the sheriff was polite you could see the look of what seemed to be distaste in his eyes as he took in your figure and worn out clothing before leaving. They quickly turn their horses in the direction of the town with Calvin mirthfully laughing along the way.

You're left standing there as you try to collect yourself before returning home.

-at the house

"urgh!...", Simon woke in a fright, sweat was pooling from every pore in his body. He frantically looked around the room trying to figure out where he was. It took a while for his memories of the night before to return. His muscles screamed in pain as he fought to try to move them but they weren't cooperating. His body felt hot and sweaty, like his skin was sunburnt.

The sun was setting, his eyes squinted as the dwindling sunshine streamed down from the only window. Damn they were meant to leave before dawn. A whole day had gone by. He feels around his face making sure his bandana was still on before looking over at Johnny. His bandana was still on too. You hadn't tried taking it off. The only difference was that two wet cloths were placed on both of their foreheads and a chipped bowl full of water next to the mattress on the floor. Had you nursed them all day? Where were you now?

"Johnny?... Johnny wake up....," Simon sat up with difficulty calling out Johnny's name but he stayed asleep. Simon felt his forehead before ringing out the cloth and dipping it in the water to reapply. This wasn't good. He's burning up…

He needed to get up to look for some yarrow before things got worse. It'll help reduce their fever and then they'll be able to leave as soon after. The sheriff might have already made it into town. Simon prayed you hadn't met him. This puts them in a very dangerous situation. Simon sits up with great difficulty as the wound on his arm flairs up with pain. But before he can attempt to stand the door opens gingerly. He freezes when he sees you.

Your eyes meet each other and Simon is too stunned to speak. Your eyes are swollen and red, like you've been crying for some time now. He watches you try to hide the tears by looking away and wiping them hastily. A sudden surge of worry and anger fills his body. Who? Who made you cry? Who dared to hurt you?

Yet when he opens his mouth to demand a name the smell of something delicious wafts through the air making his stomach growl unintentionally. You speak up in a whisper before he can, now fully facing him again with a small smile.

“Food is almost ready, I found some yarrow to help with the fever too. I hope your okay with some fish and vegetable soup. I'm sorry I know it isn't much. But it was the best I could do. I'll make you some tea with the yarrow after you finish eating.” Simon hadn't noticed but you carried a small bundle of yarrow in your fidgety hands as you continued whispering trying to not to wake Johnny or possibly trying to prevent him from asking about why you were crying. He'll find out anyway even if it wasn't going to be from your mouth. Why would anyone hurt someone as sweet as you? You almost seemed too good to be true.

“Yes, thank you. Any food is much appreciated, we aren't picky eaters. This is way more than we deserve,” Simon watches you smile so genuinely at his response that it baffles him. All he did was speak politely to you yet you smile like he had plucked stars from the sky. The thing he didn't know was that no one in town has spoken kindly to you in a very long time. So anyone talking to you even if it was normally was something you cherished greatly.

“It'll be done soon. I just needed to grab some salt. Oh.. and I gave your horses some water I hope you don��t mind that I went near them.”

“That's offly kind of you. I'm more surprised they let you near,” Simon grunts as he watches you grab what you need. That being some salt and another pot probably to boil the tea for later. Your dress had patches all over it, probably from you fixing it with whatever fabric you had laying around. The more he looked at you the more he realised how much you were struggling to obtain the bare necessities for living. Yet you remained so kind and generous. Why?...

“Ah it's no trouble at all, they let me pet them so I'm happy with that…Oh! we'll have to patch your wounds again. Let me go get some sterilised water for you!”, you say gazing at his now bloody arm. The stitches must have opened up while he was trying to move. You smile at him on your way out.

Simon thinks to himself as he gazes around you're decrepit home. You really weren't living a good life out here. And you could definitely use some more meat on your bones. Yet you were so kind to feed them and their horses. Simon made a vow to himself there and then that him and Johnny would make sure to leave you behind enough money to sustain you for a couple years. It's the least they could do after all you've done for them.

That reminds Simon he needs to do a parameter check on your house. He'll have to ask you about the sheriff too. But it looked like you were isolated from the town. It was either this or that you rarely went into town for your own reasons. News travels fast, especially in frontier towns. Though it seemed like this was one of the bigger ones. He was glad you would probably be the last person to receive the news. That just meant they could spend a couple days with you without you being afraid of them. And they could leave before you were even given a chance to report them to the sheriff.

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[seat-safety-switch]

One of the most confusing experiences of my life was when I was briefly working for that billionaire that got killed. I can't remember his name either. It keeps happening, right? Isn't that weird? In this case, it wasn't weird at all.

When all of it started, it was the usual kind of thing. My secretary got a call about a potential new client, and he came running into the workshop. Now, you have to understand two things: I like to work on my own, and I like to work with absolutely no interruptions. In particular, I especially do not deal well with surprises. I didn't fire him, because I think that "firing people" is a concept of the old, dead world of work. However, I think he knew that what he had done was wrong. And when his eyebrows grow back in, I'm sure he'll look appropriately contrite.

Turns out the client was an eccentric billionaire. He wanted me to hunt down a Plymouth Belvedere that had belonged to his grandfather. There was a considerable chunk of cash involved in it, and of course my per-diem was negotiated to be fairly close to my mortgage payment. I left immediately for the Inland Midwest. Yeah, that's a new name for me, too. Ever since the United Nations occupied Iowa, we've not been allowed to use the slur "Flyover Country" to refer to it anymore. That, and the surface-to-air missile batteries stationed at the border, are probably why my client didn't want to search for himself. Didn't stop me – I snuck in the back door, by driving down the interstate at a remarkable rate of speed in a clapped-out Dodge Dakota, just like the locals do.

Did I find the Belvedere? Absolutely not. It's folly to think that you could locate an individual car, even with my remarkable powers of shitbox deduction. Based on sampling the dirt (by taste, I'm not some kind of weirdo) I determined the 100-kilometre range in which it had once existed, but it was long gone. Likely pushed into the crusher sometime in the 80s.

This was not what my client wanted to hear, and he hired, on the spot, many functionaries to scream at me on his behalf. That contract was iron-clad, though, and I took my cash and left his endlessly-undulating office tower made entirely of seamless, perfectly-reflective mirrored glass. Temporarily made insane by sheer proximity to this much wealth, I immediately put the money into the stock market, and lost it. Turns out that the market responds poorly when one of their own is hit by an Iowan intercontinental ballistic missile. They had finally tracked down where I had parked that Dakota after raiding their strategic stockpile of Weber carbs on the way home.

I had to buy another car to get home, and it turns out that there was a pretty sweet Belvedere for sale nearby, not even two blocks from the smoking crater containing the singed molecules of the billionaire. Lucky find!

[gaycentral]

Secrets

Part One:

@reidcoffeemoon

You had known Spencer Reid for years now, back when he was a young, fresh-faced agent who struggled to speak to people his age and couldn’t beat Gideon in a chess match. He was thirty now, you’d both changed, unspoken feelings simmered beneath the surface, and you knew for a fact that Spencer was hiding something.

Your suspicions began a year ago.

Spencer was never late, and the few times he had been, it was always due to something strange. Years ago, it was his Dilaudid addiction that caused him to arrive late to work, other times it was migraines or nightmares. It was never for an innocuous, innocent reason.

A year ago, he showed up late to work with a black eye.

“What the hell happened to you?” You’d asked, eyes scanning over him for any other injuries. You wouldn’t have been able to find any with his purple cardigan and black slacks obscuring your view, but it didn’t make you worry less.

“I, er, accidentally punched myself last night when getting changed.” He visibly grimaced at his own poor attempt at a lie, suppressing a wince as he sat down, his muscles aching, every individual joint in his body collectively screaming from last night’s events.

Your brow raise told him you clearly didn’t believe him, although Morgan snickered loudly from his desk, having bought the boy wonders story. He was quite clumsy after all.

You were a profiler, you thought you’d be able to figure out what was happening quite easily. At first, you worried he’d relapsed, but ruled that out fairly quickly. Then you wondered if something was going on with his mother, but it wasn’t that either. It was frustrating, because you knew that something wasn’t right, but you had nothing.

The last thing you expected was for him to actually tell you what was going on, because if there was anything to know about Spencer Reid, was that he could keep a secret, and keep one very well.

Until he couldn’t.

It was one in the morning when he called, waking you up from the warm, cozy haven of your comforter as your phone buzzed loudly on your nightstand. With a tired groan, you reached over, a fumbling hand grabbing the phone and squinting at the harsh sting of the light in your eyes, fully expecting Hotch or Garcia to be calling you in for work.

You didn’t expect to see Spencer’s name on your screen, and you felt anxiety shoot through your veins as you sat bolt upright in bed, answering the phone.

“Spencer?”

“Hi,” his voice was a pained rasp, one you recognized as your heart sank. “I’m…I’m really sorry to be calling so late, but, can you come over? I need, uh, I need some help.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence before you were scrambling out of bed, briefly getting tangled in the sheets and nearly face-planting on your floor before you managed to orient yourself.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You didn’t bother to change out of your pyjamas as you sped through your apartment, looking for your keys as simultaneously tried to put your shoes on.

“It’s hard to explain. It will make more sense when you get here, just…try not to freak out too much?”

“You can’t say that and expect me not to freak out, Spencer!” Your voice came out more of a shriek than intended as you all but burst out of your front door, making quick strides towards your vehicle as the cold night air rose goosebumps across your skin.

“I know,” he sounded exhausted, which didn’t help your growing concern. “I’m sorry.”

You would’ve told him not to be sorry, that he didn’t need to be while simultaneously chewing him out for worrying you but he hung up the phone before you could get a word in.

You definitely broke some traffic laws on your way to Spencer’s apartment building, and you were grateful suddenly that the roads were unusually quiet tonight or there was a good chance you’d have hit someone. But right now that was the least of your worries as you burst into the building.

For a moment, you considered taking the elevator, but you remembered how Spencer had made an offhand comment on his buildings elevator being slow.

Screw it. You’d take the stairs.

You hated the stairs, you soon learned, sprinting up several flights to get to his door. You weren’t sure where you’d gotten that burst of speed or endurance, but your lungs burned and your legs hurt like a bitch. But you made it.

Not bothering to knock, you tried the door, fully expecting to find it locked due to Spencer’s vigilance. Strangely, it slowly drifted open under your hand. He must’ve left the door unlocked for you.

“Spencer?” You called out into the apartment, shutting the door behind you as you entered. It was dark, the night and the deep green walls casting the space in darkness.

You didn’t get any sort of response back, but as you walked further into the apartment, you saw a light peeking out form under the bathroom door. Your stomachs twisted anxiously at the thought of what you might find as you slowly opened the door.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t that.

Spencer was slumped over on the floor, barely holding himself upright against the base of the counter. The bizarre blue and red suit he was wearing was torn in several places and cuts littered the exposed skin. He was covered in blood—his own, presumably.

“Oh my god,” you crouched down in front of him, not even sure where to start, your hands hovering aimlessly. “Spencer, can you hear me?”

He seemed to be straddling the line of consciousness, his eyes heavily lidded as he managed to lift his head slightly before it dropped back down. You reached out, supporting his head in your hands.

“Holy shit, Spencer. We need to get you to a hospital.” The words were barely out of your mouth before Spencer was firmly gripping your wrist. Not hard enough to hurt, but to get your attention.

“No,” the word came out a broken plea, his grip on your wrist loosening but not letting go. “No hospital.”

You remembered the last time he’d been in the hospital, it had been due to anthrax exposure a few years ago, and it had been an incredibly traumatic experience for him despite the rather fortunate outcome. You supposed you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go.

“Spencer, you’re hurt. You need some kind of medical attention, you can’t just stay like this.” Your eyes flitted over his bizarre outfit. It looked sort of like a Spider-Man costume. You’d seen that vigilante around a few times. But you couldn’t help but notice how detailed it was for a costume, a little too high quality.

“Just…just help me up, please?” He managed to look up at you, his tired eyes pleading and soft, and any further arguments died in your throat as you cursed to yourself.

“Damn it. Alright, put your arm around my shoulder.” He did as asked, his arm draping around your shoulders as his fingers lightly gripped your bicep for support, leaning against you as you wrapped an arm around his waist and began to help him to his feet. You heard him wince, biting down on his lip as he struggled to stand with your help.

“Breathe through it, in through your nose, out through your mouth.” You instructed him, briefly pausing to let him catch his breath. He nodded shakily, hair hanging in front of his eyes before he tried to stand again. It took a fair bit of effort but he was finally to his feet, leaning against you for support.

“We’ll take it nice and slow,” you assured him, beginning the slow shuffle out of the bathroom. Your mind swam. What the hell happened to him? You’d ask later, you figured he didn’t want to talk about it right now, but you were going to get answers eventually even if you had to shake them out of him.

You were halfway down the hallway when he passed out. His feet had begun to drag until he slumped against you with a heavy breath, sending you both to the floor.

“No, no no no!” You barely manage to catch him as you sink to the ground, keeping him from smacking his head off the floor, your hands hooked under his arms and his head in your lap.

“Don’t you dare do this to me, you ass!” You felt your eyes burn with tears that you refused to let fall. “If you die I’m gonna kill you so much!”

He groaned incoherently, his breaths strained, but he didn’t wake. His brow was furrowed, face twisted in discomfort.

“Okay…okay.” You stand up, picking him up and adjusting him in your arms until you’re carrying him bridal style, surprised at just how light he is. You knew he’d be light, but even when he was dead weight he was relatively easy to carry as you rush to his bedroom.

Setting him down on the bed, you anxiously wring your hands as you try to get your thoughts in order. In the dim lamplight his face is contorted in pain, his skin paler than it should be.

You rush back to the bathroom, grabbing a hand towel from the cupboard under the sink and running it under the cold tap, grabbing the first aid kit on your way out.

He was right where you’d left him, but he was mumbling incomprehensibly now, his words garbled and incoherent. You place the cool, damp rag on his forehead to regulate his temperature and begin looking for some kind of zipper on his costume.

“How in the fuck do you get in and out of this thing?!” You huff, knowing you’re not going to get an answer. There’s no zipper in sight, and you want to yell in frustration. You were about to go look for a pair of scissors when your hand brushes the raised spider emblem over his chest, and the suit suddenly loosens enough to be taken off.

“What in the–“

Oh.

It wasn’t a costume.

[aquidragon]

Compulsory

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4902

Summary: There was no one you hated more than your ex-boyfriend Leon Kennedy, however, until he appears in your office after a long mission that changed everything.

Content Warning(s): smoking, reference to drinking, refrence to drugs, nsfw content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

(this is my magnum opus, I can die now)

---

You weren’t sure if there was anyone you hated more than you despised Leon Scott Kennedy. Even if you searched in the farthest corners of the universe, it would be hard for any living thing to somehow beat the burning, red-hot hatred that burned deep in your heart. 

You also hated that there was no one else in the infinite galaxy that you could love more than you loved Leon. His presence was like a drug, pulsing throughout your entire body, fueling you with aphrodisiac. Your nerves tingled at the thought of him, the hair on your neck stood on end in remembrance of his warm touch on your bare skin. The scent of sandalwood, refined whiskey, and  rust haunted your senses. 

You couldn’t get enough, you craved him again, you wanted to feel him rushing through your veins again. You needed him to feel alive. The burning desire to be dependent on him again weighed heavily in your mind, your body and your soul. It was why you loathed him, why you never wanted to see his alluring,  mysterious frozen ocean eyes again. 

Leon had shattered every effective piece of your heart when he walked away, when you demanded him to stay. It had been a cold, stormy night, your clothes were soaked to your bones as you screamed at him. Hot tears streaked down your cheeks, mixing with the freezing droplets that fell from the heavens. His eyes held the same empty, hollow walls that you had fought so hard to tear down. You had reached into the abyss of his mind, every secret, every memory, every emotion that he felt was once at your fingertips.

Before you could grab a hold, you were forced out by a violent tsunami. Sealing away what was once yours, for what you assumed to be forever. Leon Scott Kennedy became a mystery to you once again, a stranger whom you never knew. You thought you had known him once, as well as he knew you, but you were wrong.

You saw him sometimes, walking the narrow hallways of the DSO building, in between assignments. His blonde hair and square shoulders lingered in the corner of your vision like a ghost. Occasionally, you’d catch cyan in your sight, as you briefly met his eyes. For seconds, you remembered when you were his, before it all crashed down to Earth.  You’d tear your head away, cramming yourself in your work, unable to look at him any longer. You couldn’t bear the thought of him, a hot knife that tore through your chest, slicing you open; it made you vulnerable. Leon made you feel weak, powerless, similar to a deer caught in headlights. You hated him. You hated your own weakness. 

You even had asked to be reassigned to a new agent, within the Field Operations Support, which you had been granted. Not many people within the DSO knew about your complicated relationship history with Leon, most people assumed you were just best friends who had a falling out. Sometimes, you wished that they were correct. It would’ve saved you years of heartache if the nature of your relationship with your former lover remained platonic. If the intimacy you had shared with the blonde agent continued at a surface level, far above the trench that pulled you both down deeper. 

Maybe, you wouldn’t have drowned.

“Hey, did you hear about Kennedy's status?” The question that was directed at you felt muffled, your ears were underwater. You blinked, as reality set back in, and you turned to face your co-worker. Her perfect teeth peeked through her rouge-painted lips in a wide, ecstatic smile.

“Kennedy? He’s not in my detail anymore, remember?” You grumbled, finishing off the rest of your water bottle. “Why?” Ingrid Hunnigan was one of the few people who you told about your former relationship with Leon, who she often updated you about, much to your personal dismay.

“He successfully extracted Miss Graham, they’re landing back in the states in thirty.” She practically cheered, taking a celebratory sip from her hours-old  fast food soda. “The president is thrilled, I hope that means a pay increase.” Hunnigan sang her excitement, as Leon’s direct communication agent, his accomplishment reflected well onto her. 

“Congratulations, you deserve it.” You smiled at her, as you suddenly craved a cigarette.  

Her excitement began to ebb away as she rested a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know that talking about Leo-,” she hesitated, “-Kennedy isn’t easy for you.”

You chuckled, humorlessly, shaking your head. “I know this is a big deal for you, don’t sweat it. I’m fine.” You licked your lips, wishing you hadn’t finished your water. “You deserve a massive promotion, honestly.” You shut off your headset, stretching your arms over your head with a satisfied groan. “I’m going to have a smoke, I’ll be back.”

It was perfectly cool outside, you brought the paper stick to your lips, before beginning to light the white end of it. You had supposedly stopped smoking a year ago, alongside Leon, after creating a pact to quit. After you broke up, and an emotional breakdown at a bar, you gave into the compulsion. The hot, foul-smelling smoke fueled your lungs as you inhaled, and your built up frustrations rushed out with your exhale. “Shit,” you mumbled softly as you watched a familiar, private helicopter grace the horizon. You decided this warranted another puff from your cigarette, before stomping the butt into the pavement. 

Although you were no longer one of Leon’s agents, Operation Baby Eagle required almost every Field Operations agent to be on deck. You had attempted to call in sick, but your impending rent payment had other plans. While you didn’t have any direct impact on the mission, you were still required to visually confirm Leon Kennedy and Ashley Graham’s safe return from Spain. 

You were grateful you didn’t have to verbally confirm with them, at the very least. With a longingly sigh, you walk back inside the building, to get ready to head to the airstrip. You stand beside Ingrid, alongside the president and a large party of other people you didn’t know to welcome Ashley and her rescuer. You tapped your foot, impatient, and perhaps a little anxious as you watched the helicopter slowly lower to the ground. The wind whipped up from the spinning blades causes your hair to loosen from the hairstyle you chose to wear it in, as dust gets into your eyes. 

Within seconds, the aircraft’s blades slow to a stop, and the doors open. Leon exits first, his perfectly cut hair frames his angular face perfectly, his eyebrows remain in their permanent, serious position. You almost scoff at his overly stoic appearance, but you decided that that wouldn’t be very professional to do, feet away from the President of the United States. Ashley follows after her rescuer quickly, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion, but her face lights up in a smile at the sight of her parents. Without a moment of hesitation, she rushes into the waiting arms of her father, sobbing as they embrace her. 

You crack a smile at the sight, while Hunnigan is almost in tears. Your gaze shifts back to the blonde agent, who stands at attention a few feet away from you. Leon’s eyes are as distant as they always are, a solid cold blue, resembling ice. For a moment, you swore those same eyes met yours, but you weren’t sure. “Thank you, agent Kennedy, for bringing back my daughter safely. I’m forever indebted to you.” President Graham’s words are professional, while warm at the same time. 

“Anytime, Mr. President.” Leon responded, in a mostly friendly manner. You can tell that he was exhausted, based on the heavy ring of purple that underlined his eyes, as well as the subtle sag of his shoulders. A large, loud part of you wanted to rush over, wrap your arms around him to take care of him. Like you would have if you were here, a couple months ago.

Ashley freed herself from her mother’s embrace, looking up at Leon with watery eyes, a grateful smile gracing her youthfully pretty face. “Thank you, Leon.” She hugged him, her arms wrapping underneath his arms, as she buried her face deeply into his chest. 

“Take care, Ashley.” The blonde agent cracked a smile, returning her hug briefly. His head lifted to meet your eyes, and his smile fades. A pathetic, sad looking expression formed on his face, you smile anxiously, more akin to a grimace. 

“We can talk more about paperwork and such tomorrow. Tonight, all of you go home. Get some rest, you deserve it.” Graham orders, his stern facade returning. “Good work, thank you.” 

The crowd began to disperse, you yawn, as you walked back inside the building. You step into your office, as you begin to pack your stuff together, mentally noting a thanks to the president for gracing you with the ability to go home early. As you slid your bulky laptop into your work messenger bag, your door creaked open. “Hunnigan, I’m going home, we can go to Cowboy’s Tavern tomorrow. I’m fucking exhaust-” you look up, finally, and met the stormy blue eyes of Leon Scott Kennedy. 

“What the fuck are you doing in here, Kennedy?” You spat out his name like venom, as your heart faltered. You felt sick, as he shut the door behind him, his expression unreadable. “I’m pretty sure I remember that you made it clear you didn’t want to see me again. Ever.” You avoid looking at him, choosing to focus on the task at hand; gathering your stuff. “I thought we were in agreement there.” 

He tiredly mumbled your name, standing a foot away from you, on the opposite end of your desk. “I know what I said, just please, hear me out.” Leon’s voice is weak, raspy, as if he hadn’t had water in days. He pleaded your name, finally forcing you to look up at him, apprehension burning through your head. 

For once, in months, the frozen walls of his soul were gone. Leaving his blue eyes open, desperate, all of his feelings pouring out of his soul like a cascade. Your eyes widened, as your mouth fell open. In the brief time you spent with him, you had never seen him cry. Until that moment, in your office, standing before you with wet salty tears carved through the collected dirt on his face. His hands grabbed onto the oak surface of your desk tightly, you were sure that the wood would splinter underneath his touch.

“I know you don’t want to see me, or talk to me. I broke your heart and I deserve it.” Leon blurted, reaching out to grab one of your hands. Instinctively, you flinched, but you didn’t pull your hand away. You let him hold it, as he leaned over your desk. “I just needed to see you, I needed to know that you’re okay.” 

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “Leon, I,” you cleared your throat, “where is this coming from?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “We haven’t spoken in almost a year, now you come back into my office like this? What happened?” Your heart pounded wildly against your chest, like a caged bird, desperate to fly free. You felt nauseous, as your stomach churned and your thoughts spun violently. 

“I almost lost myself,” Leon admitted, vaguely. “They infected me, I couldn’t-” he paused, inhaling deeply.  “The only thing that kept me together was you, thinking about you.” The blonde exhaled through his nostrils, in a strange laugh. “I realized I couldn’t live without you, I thought I was protecting you, but I put everyone in danger instead.” 

You studied his expression, swallowing the ball that had wadded in your throat nervously. His handsome face morphed in multiple expressions; desperation, fear, grief, and pain. It looked like he was in agony, as his large, calloused hand tightened over your smaller one. “What are you talking about?” You stammered, you felt breathless. “Leon, please tell me.” 

“In Spain, Ashley and I were infected by Las Plagas, a parasite, similar to a virus.” He strained his words, struggling to get them out. “It allowed us to be controlled by an outside force, fuck, it felt like I was on fire. I thought I was going to die.” 

You opened your mouth, but you were at a loss of words. Instead, you allowed him to get closer, as you pressed your lips against his temple. You allowed your hatred towards him to be silenced, for a moment, to comfort him. To provide sanctuary to his tormented mind, to allow the part of you that still loved him to shine though. “You’re okay now, I promise.” You whispered, scooting to sit on your desk, gently petting his back. Your fingers trailing over the bumps of his spine, as his damp forehead pressed against yours.

As always, his skin radiated heat, as your bodies sat magnetized closer together. Your positives were drawn to his negatives, as your hearts fused together in an electrifying sense. You shut your eyes, as the same thrilling sparks that you craved for so long echoed underneath your flesh. His soft sobs evened out, as he pulled away from you, breathing heavily. Your name was rough, yet gentle on his tongue. His warm hands trailed over the curve of your waist, before coming up to cup your face. 

“I never meant to hurt you.” Leon’s voice was like broken glass, as his thumb traced the skin below your eyes. “I thought if you hated me, loathed me, you would be safer. I didn’t think I needed you.” He trailed his lips against your forehead, before planting a kiss between your eyes. “God, I was wrong, please, forgive me.” 

You straightened up on your desk, even from your position, sitting on the desk, he still towered over you. His body leaned over yours, as he held himself up, with both of his hands holding the end of the wooden oak. You felt him pull away, afraid that he had done something wrong, thinking that he had angered you more. For less than a heartbeat, you wanted to scream at him, for breaking you apart. However, the longing desire for the man that you loved so much to be yours again, even for a moment, washed away the hatred you had felt for him. 

Against your better judgment, you pressed your lips against his mouth. Leon’s pale rosy lips were chapped, and your nerves smoldered with him. Your lungs inhaled the scent of sweat and blood. As he returned your kiss, feverishly,  you could taste the metallic indication of blood in his saliva. One of his hands pressed against your cheek bone, as he desperately tried to get closer to you. Your own palms traced over the firm muscles underneath his thin, stretchy, shirt. 

He was almost overloading your senses, in the same way that he always did. You felt like you were going to collapse, as you steaded yourself with a hand by your hip. The other hand, found itself in his filthy ash-blonde hair, you didn’t care. You didn’t think you’d even care if he was covered head to toe in blood and rotten flesh. You missed him. You wanted him. You needed him. You wanted him to take over you, to melt into your body and permanently become a part of you.

As your lungs burned for oxygen, Leon’s mouth left yours, breathing heavily. “You’ve been smoking again.” He commented gruffly, trying to catch his own breath. 

You huffed, in a hint of a laugh. “Got a problem with that?” You gasped as his lips pressed against your neck, effectively knocking you backwards. The curve of your spine rested against the uncomfortable oak surface, but you didn’t notice. Your nerves sparked wildly from Leon’s touch, as his chest leaned against yours. 

“I thought I taught you better than that, sweetheart.” He murmured lowly against the shell of your ear. You hadn’t heard him call you that in what felt like decades, which made electricity shoot through your body, making you almost giggle with delight. 

“Well,” you breathed, “you haven’t exactly been able to keep me on track.” You wheezed as he rested his body weight on one of his arms to use his spare hand to drift over your curves. His pupils dilated, and his breath heavy against your face. 

“You don’t think I’ve kept my eye on you, do you?” The blonde asked, almost patronizing you. “I know what you’ve been up to. I know what bars you’ve gone to every weekend, I know you drink yourself into oblivion every night.” He groaned, his teeth softly scraped against the tender skin on your neck. “If only you knew that, I ached for you every single time I thought about you.” 

The thought of him watching you, from the shadows, when you weren’t paying attention made your brain spin with delight. You moaned as your fingers dug into his scalp, as he nipped at the flesh that joined your neck to your collarbone. “It almost hurt, y’know, that I couldn’t call you mine when I saw you with other people.” Leon pulled his face away from your body, looking down at you with blown, ocean eyes. 

“Be mine, again.”

You exhaled sharply, as his gaze burned into yours. As he waited for your permission to go ahead, to continue what you both had started. Without a second thought, you yanked his hair down so he’d kiss you, in a passionate clash of your lips. He grunted in surprise, but quickly recovered as he melted into your mouth. Leon Kennedy was yours again. 

As you kissed, your hands trailed down to his rough, black jeans, his erection strained against the thick fabric. You smirked against his lips as you fumbled with his leather belt buckle, before toying with the smooth button. He hissed once you freed his solid boner from his pants, as he squeezed your thighs in delight. “I almost forgot how beautiful you are, baby.” Leon panted, carnally, quickly tearing  your work blouse over your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He buried his nose between your breasts, inhaling your scent deeply.

You whimpered as his wet tongue traced the outline of your skin, over your bra, as his hands squeezed your biceps. “Jesus, fuck Leon, take off my bra.” You grumbled, desperate. 

He gave you a wolfish grin, “your wish is my command.” Without another word, his teeth snagged the center of your bra, as his hands went undeath you to unclasp the back. Once the clasp was undone, he pulled the garment away from you with his teeth, before tossing it in an unknown direction in your tiny office.  Goosebumps puckered across your skin as your sensitive nipples were exposed to the cool air, you shivered in delight. 

Wordlessly, Leon climbed off of you to crouch at the  end of the desk, his head between your feet. You sat up, confused, ready to ask him if he was done; before he used a firm hand to lay you back down. “Take off your pants and panties. Now.” 

The commanding, desperate tone of his voice made your brain spin and heat pool between your legs. Without a single complaint, you yanked off your dress pants and panties. You made sure to aim the lacy undergarment at your partner’s head, who caught it with ease. Amused, he studied the fabric, before flinging it back to you. “Familiar.” Leon teased, before pulling your lower half over the edge of the desk. 

You yelped as papers scattered onto the floor, as he held onto your ankles. Like a starving man, he buried his head in between your thighs, the hair on his head tickling your skin as his breath rushed against your swollen clit. “Oh Jesus Christ,” you groaned, as your head tilted backwards. Leon littered biting kisses alongside the underside of your upper thighs, looking up at you with half-lidded, smug eyes, before pressing a firm kiss against your sensitive bud.

You hissed in pleasure, as your toes curled inside your shoes. Your entire body flinched at the sudden, yet familiar feeling, as sparks began to echo from your pelvis. “I missed this, I missed you.” Leon murmured against your cunt as he dragged his tongue up the slit. You squeaked, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. “You taste as good as I remembered, sweetness.” Two of his fingers slipped inside you as his lips remained on your clit. You arched your back, giving him easier access as he devoured you. Your hips jerked as your moans grew in pitch, your muscles clenched tighter with every flick of his tongue and thrust of his fingers. 

You cursed him and his ability to absolutely consume pussy. You almost thought he was attempting to eat you alive. You fruitlessly tried to grab onto something, to steady yourself, but all you could manage was crumpled up paper (that you hoped weren’t important) and sliding your fingers across the smooth surface of your desk. “Fuck! Leon!” You moaned as he curled his fingers against the sweet spot inside you, with ease. 

Without intending to, the tightening sensation inside you suddenly snapped. You gasped, as white, blue and black sparked through your vision as you felt every nerve in your body explode. Like fireworks, scattered underneath your heated skin. Your jaw fell open as you grabbed ahold of Leon’s hair to steady yourself, making him hiss delightfully. He didn’t stop, instead, he continued to finger you as you rode out your orgasm. Monster. 

As your high began to fade away, Leon pulled away from your soaked pussy. Covered in your own juices and his salvia. You could see the cocktail of his actions across the lower half of his face, reflecting the orange light of the sunset outside your window. You panted heavily, your arm resting on your damp forehead as he looked down at you, affectionately. 

“Do you want to continue?” He asked, with a charming, gentle question. His lips pressing against your cheek, fingers filing through strands of your hair. You nodded, rapidly, as desire began to build back up throughout your body. 

“Please,”

Leon grinned at you, before standing back up to completely undo his belt and pants. With an effortless move, he stripped his combat pants away, alongside his boxers. His dick was delightfully curved and thick. You had to force your eyes away from staring. Gently, he pulled your hips against his pelvis, as he stood at the end of the desk. He pressed the head of his erection against your prepared hole, and looked down at you. 

You nodded encouragingly, with a smile, as he began to push himself inside you. You both gasped at the sensation, it felt familiar yet foreign at the same time. Leon let out a breathless moan, as he adjusted to the feeling of your heat around his dick. “Fuck,” he breathed out your name like a prayer, “you feel so good.” Without a second thought, he began to thrust inside you, as he began to rush through your veins. 

Your body thrilled at the sensation of Leon Kennedy rushing through your skin again, you felt him inside every fiber of your being. Like a drug, an aphrodisiac, you could never get enough of it. You moaned out his name, as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer to you. His forehead pressed against yours as your lips parted, looking into your lust hazed eyes. He groaned his desires to you, as his hands grabbed onto your hips tighter, nails digging into your plush flesh. 

You didn’t just need him, he needed you too. In a knotted twist of fate that ensured that you could never live without him. You knew it meant the same to him as well, of course, as he pressed wanton kisses to the side of your face, whispering the words you loved to hear against your ear. You had never truly hated him, you realized, much to your own personal disdain. You had always loved him, even when you had denied it. 

“I love you,” Leon moaned against your skin, in a raspy voice. “I always have, and I always will.” 

You almost laughed in joy, but instead, you simply responded as breathlessly as he did, “I love you too.” 

With a grunt, he came inside you, his hips pressed against yours, without an inch to spare between your bodies. With a wheezy chuckle, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he emptied himself deep within you. You pressed a kiss to his temple, soothingly stroking his hair as he came back down to Earth. 

You assured yourself for as long as you lived, you would always be the person who knew Leon Kennedy better than you knew yourself. He would know you better than anyone as well, forever bound by the allure that drew you closer together. You weren’t sure if you believed in soulmates, but you knew damn well that there was no one else in the universe who you loved more than him.

---

reblogs greatly encouraged and appreciated. Thanks for reading!

[soaplickerrr]

Accidentally Coincidental

CHAPTER 7 (click pictures for better quality)

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a/n: updates will be slow, i'm working on a pretty long fic on my side blog.

pairing: Idol!Kim Seungmin x Fem! CollegeStudent!Reader

genre: contemporary romance

SMAU

synopsis: Y/N, a regular college student accidentally texts Seungmin, a star in the K-pop group Stray Kids while trying to text her Ex, Soonyoung to come pick up his things, leading to an unexpected connection that blossoms into a heartfelt romance.

ignore time stamps, dates (other than the ones mentioned during texting) and typos

THERES A WRITTEN PART, DO NOT JS SCROLL THEOUGH THE PICS!!

The towering glass facade of JYP Entertainment stands in front of you, gleaming under the afternoon sun. The building is sleek and modern, almost like a beacon calling you forward with its promise of dreams fulfilled and careers made. For a moment, you pause outside, taking a deep breath to steady the nervous energy buzzing in your veins. Today is a big day, your chance to prove yourself at one of the biggest entertainment companies. The opportunity to showcase your editing skills is finally here, and you’re determined to nail it.

You step through the revolving doors and into the lobby, where everything is polished to a shine, from the pristine marble floors to the sleek, minimalist decor that screams sophistication and class. The soft hum of conversation, the rapid tapping of heels, and the occasional chime of an elevator create a symphony of activity around you. You can feel the eyes of staff and visitors glancing at you as you make your way to the receptionist’s desk, your pulse quickening with each step. You straighten your back and put on a polite smile, trying to project a confidence that you don’t quite feel.

The receptionist looks up with a professional but somewhat warm smile. “Hello, how can I help you?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hi, I have an appointment today. My name is L/N Y/N.”

The receptionist nods, typing something into her computer with swift, practiced keystrokes. Her eyes flick up to meet yours again, studying you briefly. “Alright, just a moment. Someone will be with you shortly.”

You manage a tight smile and nod, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you wait. You try not to fidget, but your hands feel awkward and out of place, unsure where they should rest. Just as you’re contemplating what to do with them, two men in suits approach from a side door. They move with a certain authority, their expressions serious, no, stern, but not in a way that feels threatening. Just…official.

“Excuse me, could you tell us your name again?” one of them asks, his tone flat and his gaze steady.

“Uh, Y/N,” you reply, a bit taken aback by the second request but deciding it’s best not to ask why.

The men exchange a quick, wordless look. Then, one of them speaks again. “We’ll need to take your phone. Company policy. No recording, photos, or unauthorized communications inside.”

Your eyes widen a little at the unexpected request, and you blink, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh, sure. Right.” You fumble with your bag, pulling out your phone. Handing it over feels strange, like you’re parting with a lifeline. You watch as they slip it into a small, padded pouch and secure it with a seal, locking it away. You know it’s standard security protocol in a place like this, but the absence of your phone suddenly makes you feel vulnerable, almost exposed, like you’ve had a piece of armor taken away.

“Follow us, please,” the other man says, turning sharply on his heel. You nod, swallowing down the nerves bubbling up inside, and fall in step behind them. The click of your shoes against the immaculate floor seems louder than usual in the otherwise hushed hallway. You try to keep your breathing even as they lead you through a series of corridors that seem to grow more pristine and imposing with each turn. Bright overhead lights reflect off polished surfaces, and you catch glimpses of framed awards, photographs of famous artists, and plaques of achievement lining the walls.

Finally, they lead you to a set of heavy double doors, which they push open to reveal a spacious conference room. Inside, the air is cooler, almost chilled, and there’s a tension you can’t quite place. Several people are already seated around a large, glossy table, including the CEO of JYP Entertainment himself, as well as a group of individuals who appear to be part of the editing team, seasoned professionals by the looks of them. A sense of awe mixed with anxiety twists in your stomach.

“Welcome, Y/N,” the CEO says with a smile that is both warm and assessing, his gaze sharp. The tension in your shoulders loosens a little. “We’re glad you could join us today. We’ve heard some promising things about you. Today, we’ll be putting you through a series of tests to evaluate your editing skills and see if you’d be a good fit for our team.”

You nod, your mouth a bit dry but you manage to offer a polite smile in return. “Thank you for this opportunity. I’m excited to get started.”

They don’t waste any time. One of the team members, a woman with a sharp bob and an even sharper expression, gestures for you to follow her to another room. As you walk, you take in the atmosphere: a blend of high-stakes professionalism and intense creative energy. She leads you into a larger room, even more imposing than the last, lined wall-to-wall with high-end computers. These aren’t your average editing setups; they’re top-of-the-line, the kind of equipment you’ve only seen in magazines or YouTube reviews, machines that look like they could handle any project you could throw at them and then some. Your fingers itch with anticipation.

You’re directed to one of the stations and take a seat, feeling the weight of their expectations settle over you. “Alright, let’s get started,” the woman says. “We have an unedited scene from a music video here. Take a look, and tell us how you’d approach it. What kind of cuts, pacing, effects, anything you think would make the scene really stand out.”

You lean forward, watching as the raw footage plays out on the screen. It’s a good scene, but there’s a lot of room for improvement. Your mind starts to race with ideas, visualizing how you could tighten the cuts, adjust the pacing, and use color grading to make certain moments pop. After a moment of silence, you start speaking, sharing your thoughts. You can see the team members watching you closely, a few nodding slightly, others jotting down notes. When you finish, you notice a few raised eyebrows, they weren’t expecting that.

“Interesting approach,” one of them says, scribbling more notes. “Not the usual take, but it’s got potential.”

Then, they take you over to another project, they reveal what the unedited footage actually is. Your breath catches in your throat. It’s “JJAM” by Stray Kids, you recognize the song. You’re momentarily stunned, feeling a rush of excitement and disbelief all at once. You’re a huge fan of the group, and now you have the chance to put your spin on something this important. It feels surreal. But there’s no time to get lost in the moment. You’re given two scenes to edit, the first chorus, and the scene right after it. You listen to the hype music as you edit, the next scene’s calmer sound a blessing, both Seungmin and I.N’s voices loosening your shoulders.

You refocus, your heart pounding.

Your hands move with a blend of instinct and precision as you begin editing. You adjust the cuts to match the intensity of the beats, sync transitions perfectly with the energy of the music, and add visual effects that enhance the atmosphere without overshadowing the artists. Time starts to blur as you fall into the familiar rhythm of editing. You’re in the zone, entirely focused on the work in front of you.

When you finally lean back and look at the clock, three hours of cutting, moving and placing have passed in what felt like a blink. You hadn’t realized how deeply you were holding your breath until you exhale and call the team over.

“I’m done,” you say, trying to keep the fatigue out of your voice but unable to hide the pride in your work.

They gather around, their eyes on the screen as they review what you’ve done. The room is filled with murmurs, some nodding, some pointing at specific cuts or transitions. You can’t hear everything they’re saying, but you pick up a few key words: “clean,” “sharp,” “unexpected.” You try not to overthink it as they finish their discussion.

“Very good, Y/N,” the woman with the sharp bob finally says, nodding in approval. “Now, let’s test your attention to detail. There’s a tiny flaw in this already-edited video. It’s subtle, but we want to see if you can spot it.”

You nod, feeling a fresh wave of determination. You lean in closer to the screen, eyes scanning carefully over the footage. A few seconds pass before you see it, a tiny synchronization issue where the beat of the music and the cut don’t quite match up perfectly.

“There,” you point out confidently. “The beat and the cut are slightly off-sync. It’s almost imperceptible, but it’s there.”

There’s a pause, and then a few murmurs of approval ripple through the team. You catch a few nodding in agreement, clearly impressed, though they keep their expressions controlled. Over the next several hours, they put you through a series of additional tests, each one more challenging than the last. Some require speed, others a sharp eye for continuity, and a few push your creativity to the limit. You’re exhausted, but adrenaline and sheer willpower keep you going.

By the time you finish the last task, you’re nearly slumped over the desk, eyes tired but heart pounding with a mix of hope and anxiety. You can barely keep from fidgeting as one of the senior editors, a tall man with graying hair, speaks up.

“Well, Y/N, you’ve shown us a lot today,” he says, and you hold your breath, waiting. “We’re pleased to offer you a position on our editing team. Congratulations.”

The words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you’re not sure you heard correctly. Then, a wide smile spreads across your face, and a rush of relief and joy floods through you. “Thank you! I’m so excited to be here. I promise I’ll work hard and give my best.”

They hand you your phone back, still sealed in its pouch, and guide you back through the maze of hallways. You bow in gratefulness, a huge, full-teethed smile adorning your face.

As you step out of the building into the cool night air, you finally allow yourself to breathe freely. You tear open the pouch and grab your phone, hands slightly trembling with excitement. The screen lights up, and you quickly navigate to your messages, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Idk how to feel about this chapter , ALSO I DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT EDITING SO DONT BASH ME 😭😭😭

TAGLIST - CLOSED - if your name is in pink, I couldn't tag you

@disasterousdangerousbi @akitfffr @alexateurmom @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sunarins-whore @feelikecinderella @minniesuperversee @istglevi-gotmesimping @dreamerwasfound @whiteghostt @your-favorite-pirate @pnutbutter-n-j-elyy @chuuyaobsessed @ihrtlix @onlyhyunjin @jisuperboard @dazzlingjade @sellomaybe @lixiesbrownies333 @kkamismom12 @iatemycatfreckles @puppyminnnie @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ayyonoona @missvanjii @jc003 @dontwannaexsist @everglowdaisies

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

can you please include a post of shit vivzie has done TO REAL PEOPLE not fucking drawings???

Not sure if you read but the anon asked “explain like theyre 12” and also I stated there are lots of other better in depth posts about things Vivzie has done. I simply listed ones I know of off the top of my head. The post also did include things Vivzie has done to real people. Only 4 and 2 really can be seen as exclusive to art but one of them is antisemitism and the other is glorifying abuse which, yes, does affect real people! As for the others, Raph is a real person, her employees are real people, other indie creators are real people, and the people in that playlist are real people. Vivzie supporting and doing this shit affects “REAL PEOPLE.” My blog is mainly for criticism towards the show and fixing it and I have mentioned many times my issues with Vivziepop that I honestly do not feel like repeating every couple months. If you would like actual posts about shit vivzie has done I DO also reblog those on occasion but, again, I do not like writing about Vivzie herself when possible. If it isn’t related to Hazbin I likely will not be talking about it unless I happen across it myself. I don’t actively dig for dirt on this lady and I know very surface level stuff about her shitty actions and simply listed what I know while being incredibly drained of writing from work. I am NOT qualified to make entire long posts about how terrible she is even if I did want to. That is another reason that post was incredibly short aside from having been asked to make it short.

Fiction that is made by REAL PEOPLE affects REAL PEOPLE in turn. Look at fucking south park and how many kids were saying homophobic and antisemitic shit because of it. Literally everything shitty that Vivzie does is shitty for a reason. “Drawings” can be shitty. You can be a shitty person for drawing bad things. This is like saying theres nothing problematic about her because all the problematic stuff is in drawings.

Please look elsewhere than on my blog for information on Vivziepop things that don’t pertain directly to her content. Heres shit I’ve briefly reblogged in the past about her. Go look there, not here. And if you have a genuine problem with me please stop screaming at me on anon. I do not have the time to repeat why Vivzie is shit every other day. And if you want articles, I do not have them because I am again not qualified or educated enough to talk in depth on this and also when I try to find them its all just Vivzie fans trying to debunk shit like whatever that stuff was with Viv being transphobic to her old friend

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ~ 𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞

word count: 1.3k

genres/tropes: romance, dealer!chris, sturniolo au, slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers

teaser: here

pt. one: here / pt. two: here

warnings: drug usage, alcohol consumption, guns mentioned and used (non-sexual context), smut, mature themes and topics

notes from bambi: this is a multi-part series, and updates will be sporadic.

Christopher's POV:

Nicolas called me for the fourth time in a row. Picking up with a sigh, I barely managed to get three words out before he began his royal tirade. “You handed four thousand dollars to a perfect stranger, Christopher. How does that fucking constitute ‘laying low’? She’s going to tell every single person she knows, and where will that leave us?”

“Death row, probably,” I deadpanned, nosing through a bowl of sweets with my finger. “Do you like dark chocolate?”

“I may seriously kill you and hang your body parts off the ‘HOLLYWOOD’ sign. Why do I have to find out these things from the finance department asking me if “we were sure we wanted to make that kind of deposit”? The device in your hand is incredibly useful for all sorts of almost-instantaneous communication across any distance, and I’ll have you know-”

“We should order a pizza for the office tomorrow. You think they’re pepperoni people?”

He answered after a long-suffering sigh. “Of course they’re peperoni people, Christopher.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Nicolas,” I hummed, grateful for more than just his crowd-sourced opinions.

“I’m taking an Advil and several melatonin,” he snarled at me. “Goodnight.”

A black sedan slowed to a stop at the curb outside as my eldest brother so graciously hung up on me. A quick glance at my phone revealed both the time (3:22am) and an email containing this week’s shipping manifest–Matthew can give it a once-over on the way.

Returning the doorman’s nod, I stepped out of the hotel lobby, through a warm, moon-filled breeze, and into the backseat of the unassuming vehicle.

“Did you get the-”

“Yes,” I said, handing my device to Matthew, who lounged in the seat opposite mine. 

“...Hong Kong is in error,” he murmured. I nodded absentmindedly, letting him work through the tables. Matthew had his methods and so far, he’d never once led us astray. The minutes passed in silence as Los Angeles melted around us, cars and shadowed palm trees and people drifting by at 45+ miles an hour.

“Why were you at the hotel?” he asked after a while.

“Met someone,” I replied evenly.

“You gonna meet her again?”

“Unlikely.”

“If you get herpes because you can’t keep it in your pants,” Matthew said, never once looking up from the manifest, “I will point and laugh.”

Our driver chuckled up front.

“What is this, amateur hour?” I snarked.

“How was she, sir?” our driver asked with a glance in the rearview mirror.

My thoughts settled on the woman from the night before, and the evening we’d shared.

“Oh, Owen, faster, faster!” she squealed, jutting her ass into my pelvis. I regretted giving her my middle name in the name of safety and secrecy–who the fuck can seriously scream ‘Owen’ during sex? Then I remembered I was having sex, which usually is a two-person affair, and I should probably focus, but I shouldn’t have worried–she was done. I waited politely for her body to finish twitching before I lowered myself onto the mattress. “That was so…oh god…” she panted.

“Thank you,” I said, granting her a half-smile. 

“You mind if I shower?”

“Go right ahead.”

As the water wished down the drain, muffled through the bathroom door, I stared at the ceiling. What was wrong with me? Normally I enjoyed sex quite a bit–the animal nature of it, base human desires brought to the surface, expression of self and pleasure through the movement of the body–but it seemed I’d outgrown such things. Outgrown may not have been the right word. I felt confused and exhausted.

As I drifted asleep, I wondered briefly about the bottle girl from the nightclub. I hoped Miss Cassie made it home alright.

“A gentleman never tells,” I replied. 

Matthew handed my phone back to me. “We’ll need to call Lee tomorrow about the reports issue but otherwise we’re good for this week. Not a lot of product coming in anyway, most is export and that’s on Nicolas.”

I glanced at him, mouth tilted. “You worry about you. I’ll worry about Nicolas.”

The car slowed to a halt in front of the estate, and I stepped out with a sigh. “Thank you sir,” I said to the driver, who nodded back at me.

“We’ll be just a minute.”

Matthew followed me up the drive to the front steps. “Why’d you pay that girl so much?”

“Hm?”

“The girl from last night, Callie? Camryn? Cornucopia?”

“Cassandra,” I chuckled. “And I haven’t paid her yet.”

Matthew closed the heavy oak door behind us. “That’s not what Nicolas said.”

Word sure travels fast around here, I thought with a scowl. “Would you two please quit gossipping? It’s annoying.”

“You can be annoyed, I just want to know what warranted four thousand dollars.” Matthew took a cigarette from his pocket, fishing around for his lighter. “That’s a hell of a bathroom blowjob.”

Music thumped through the ornate–and frankly ostentatious–house. Wonder why nobody’s downstairs. “It wasn’t a blowjob. We just talked, you dickhead.”

Matthew snorted and lit his cigarette. “Whatever you say, Christopher.”

A man rounded the nearest corner, his eyes a dull red and his nose powdery white. “Heyyy, pretty boy,” he slurred.

“Dennis Johnson?” Matthew asked conversationally, letting his cigarette hang from his lips and dropping a hand into his coat pocket.

“Thas’ me, alright…Who’s askin’?”

Matthew whipped out his pistol and shot the man where he stood, watching him fall to a heap on the now-blood-spattered marble floor.

“So messy,” I sighed, retrieving my own handgun and making my way up the stairs. “Let’s make this quick please, I’d rather not bother our brothers-in-blue.”

“Really?” my brother said with a wry, blood-freckled smile. “Simple favor for the local sheriff, huh?”

I returned his grin. “Something like that. Let’s light the place.”

Cassandra's POV:

“-a violent shooting earlier this morning, estimated to have occurred between three and four a.m. raises questions in the minds of many-” The newswoman droned on as I ate my cereal, curled tightly underneath my mom’s blanket. 

“Cass, honey?”

“Yes ma’am,” I called.

“Can I come in?”

Putting my bowl down on the nightstand, I clicked the tv off. “Sure.”

My mom fit the worrying mother trope to a T, so her concern about my job at the nightclub shocked me very little. Still, I let her sit on my bed and ramble–something about it soothed her, I think. 

“-and I just worry because, you know, there’s a lot that goes on in those kinds of establishments, and I-”

“I know, Mom,” I said. I put my hand on her arm and took a deep breath. “But…I got a massive tip last night.”

She tilted her head questioningly. “How much?”

“A little over four thousand dollars, Mom.”

She choked and clutched her chest. “What the heck?”

I broke out into a laugh. “Mom!” She never used such language!

“What…How…”

I told her everything–Christopher, the drink, the bathroom–and after a long moment of quiet, she nodded. “You keep yourself safe, Cassandra.”

“I will Mom. But hey! We don’t need to worry about bills this month!”

She tutted and shook her head as she tucked her blanket underneath my toes. “You should save it, baby. Invest in something, let it grow.”

“Or,” I replied, taking another bite of my soggy cereal, “We can go get our nails done and afford name-brand groceries.”

My mom smiled from the doorway. “Put it in the bank and we can talk about it later, okay?”

Giving her my best salute, I drank the rest of my breakfast-dinner amalgamation meal and slid underneath my covers and her blanket. The one-bedroom apartment we shared didn’t boast much in the way of comfort, but we got by. The money from Christopher was genuinely life-changing, and I wanted to find a way to let him know. Would he even care though? You know how those rich people behave…money is nothing to them. I refused to believe in a world where four thousand dollars wasn’t a lot to a person and did my best to catch some sleep. 

City lights pulsed slowly through my threadbare curtains as sirens echoed through the streets and cars honked. Planes flew overhead, carrying hundreds of people to thousands of places, and the subway hummed far below. I finally fell asleep, though I couldn’t help but wonder if that money really meant nothing to Christopher.

notes from bambi: pls let me know if you guys like this concept! mwah

taglist: @pinksturniolo @st7rnioioss @cindylcuwho @slutsformatt @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt 

[muffinsin]

Just like that

Sub Cassandra Dimitrescu x trans “GIP” OC, mommy kink

Lauren, a maid at Castle Dimitrescu, makes sure not to end up in the cellar or on a plate

Or:

Switch Cassandra finally gets a good, dominant maid to wreck her

Masterlists

Lauren was sick of it. More than sick of it. She huffed angrily when she rubbed yet another bloody red spot from the carpet.

She didn’t know who it was that time, nor did she care. All she wanted was to finish her work already (she truly hated having to clean blood off carpets, for it usually stained and was difficult to clean perfectly), get back to her room, have a nice bath, get out of her uncomfortable uniform and go to bed.

But it was several hours until she could do that.

She rolled her eyes at another scream from some distance and briefly wondered when she had become that cold. Was it when her family sold her off to the castle? Or when she was bullied amongst the servants? Or perhaps when cleaning blood off surfaces became a daily job to do for her? She didn’t know, but didn’t care either.

But she knew what was good for her, so she lowered her head when one of the Dimitrescu sisters walked into the room- Cassandra. Of course.

Lauren would have nearly rolled her eyes again, but knew better than that. Cassandra- or “Lady Cassandra”, as she and her sisters were referred to, was nothing more than a spoiled brat in her eyes. Always receiving what she asked for by her rich mother, torturing maidens and playing god when it came to their destiny. Lauren wouldn’t be surprise if the brunette got off to their screams while most servants cried themselves to sleep at the sound of them. Not her, not anymore. She didn’t care for her co workers anymore, not when they teased and bullied her and tried to get her in trouble.

She remembered that one particular time when they had spilled water of her and laughed when the outline of her penis was visible through her uniform. She smirked when Lady Bela, who they knew to be in the area, only cast her a quick glance before she passed the group of servants. The foolish women always thought they could get Lauren eaten or killed, always pretended like she was not a woman like them. It made their screams, no matter how bad that seemed, sound better.

Lauren lifted her head again. Cassandra was right in front of her, talking with another servant.

Well…talking. The brunette smirked at the flustered woman and moved around her almost predatory like. Lauren would have scoffed, if that only didn’t lead to her death.

She knew she was about the only servant not afraid of Cassandra, but how could she be, when the spoiled woman was easy to read? Bela was the one Lauren was scared of. Lady Bela, the eldest sister, calm and collected most of the time, but impossible to read and impossible to predict.

It was easy with Cassandra in comparison.

The brunette brat liked to hunt and kill servants just for fun, always tried to scare them. She hardly thought of a plan (or in general, Lauren argued) like her elder sister, but just pounced on her prey and killed it brutally. Her anger often got the best of her as well, so she usually just attacked without thinking.

Yes, Lauren didn’t think too highly of Cassandra, but was willing to admit that the woman was quite attractive for someone made of literal flies. She was not ashamed to admit that, either. Yes, she stroked herself to the thought of Cassandra from time to time, but usually then thought of someone else, someone less spoiled and bratty and annoying.

Lauren nearly groaned in annoyance when she heard a muffled scream. When she looked up, the other maiden in the room was being held in a tight grip, with Cassandra’s mouth on her neck and her teeth dug in deep in her neck.

“You!”. Lauren looked up. The servant was dead and her blood was creating a puddle on the expensive floor- she had just cleaned that before she moved on to the carpet, too!

”Clean that up, pronto!”

”Of course, Milady.”, Lauren growled back. She knew she fucked up, but couldn’t help the sarcasm in her tone. She was angry at the brunette and couldn’t hide it, even though she should have.

She gasped when she was yanked off the floor and groaned in mild pain when her back hit the door to the room.

”What was that, servant?! Did I hear that right? You dare disrespect me!?”

So spoiled…Lauren thought with an angry frown. She would have gladly pushed the woman off of her, as hard as she could, but knew that would only make the brunette drag out her death. The entire Dimitrescu family was way stronger than Lauren, something she was fully aware of.

Still, she liked to imagine herself pushing the brunette woman off as if she was a mortal, pushing her to the ground and having her clean the mess she produced.

Lauren cursed herself quietly when her cock hardened under her uniform- at about the worst possible moment.

But she was sick of living this life anyway, and if Cassandra drained her of her blood, then so be it.

”I would hope so, unless you’re deaf as well as spoiled”. Yes, that was definitely her death sentence.

But Lauren wanted more. She was so angry and needed to let it out somehow.

Angry at the dumb maidens teasing her.

Angry at Cassandra for making her work so much harder by making new messes nearly every day.

Angry at her own self for living and working at such a place in the first place.

Cassandra gasped when her hood was grabbed and her head was pulled backwards a little.

Lauren felt the woman’s sharp nails in her sides. The pain was so good, she wanted more. She needed more. Needed to feel something else than this anger.

”Why don’t you clean your mess, Lady Cassandra?”, she whispered in the woman’s ear. She wasn’t sure how, but a harsh push was all it took to have Cassandra on the floor by her feet. The woman looked up at her in surprise, seemingly not understanding how that worked either.

Lauren bit her lip. If it was under different circumstances, having Cassandra by her feet would be quite nice. Having the brunette on her knees, sucking her hard dick off until she was able to continue her day without the annoying feeling between her legs. How often she had imagined it, pulling the spoiled brat aside in an empty room and forcing her to take her dick down her throat until she gagged around it…

She grabbed Cassandra’s jaw- bloodied, of course, as if Cassandra had to make sure everybody knew she was a murderer (all the servants knew already anyway)- and pushed her to the ground. Lauren chuckled when the woman’s pretty face was smeared against the puddle of blood on the floor.

She was more than just a little surprised that Cassandra didn’t stop her yet. She certainly could, physically, Lauren wasn’t that strong or heavy. Cassandra had fought off monsters twice her size, yet she seemed like a deer caught in headlights when her jaw was squeezed and her face was pushed a little harder against the floor.

”Come on, brat, clean it!”

That was dangerous, but what’s new?

Cassandra seemed too stunned to speak, but eventually reached out to grab Lauren’s abandoned sponge.

”Ah-Ah-Ah!”

Was that a whimper coming from Cassandra when Lauren squeezed her jaw a little too tight? She couldn’t be sure, it was too quiet, but the situation itself made her incredibly hard.

Seeing the murderous woman, usually so wild and dangerous now so…well, almost tamed and obedient on the floor…

She smirked down at the brunette when she turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide and her pupils blown wide, so that there was only a small ring of golden left in her irises.

”Lick it off.”, Lauren commanded. She was testing the waters, but found herself shocked again when Cassandra didn’t struggle. She bared her teeth at her and hissed almost like a cat, but didn’t bite, or turn into her swarm, or break Lauren’s hand when she squeezed her jaw again. The servant wondered whether the brunette had ever been in a situation like that- but probably not. No, no maid was had ever been brave enough to do as much as breath on Cassandra, let alone talk back to her, push her on the ground and command her to lick her own mess off.

”Well? We don’t have all day, brat!”

Lauren bit her lip and pressed her thighs together when Cassandra actually opened her mouth and licked the blood off the floor with her tongue. Long and slow licks. Lauren felt hotter with each moan coming from the woman, as if the dead servant’s blood was the most delicious thing in the world.

”Hmm, would you look at that, the rough-n-tough Cassandra Dimitrescu, nothing more than a little slut.”. She thought that was her death sentence- surely- but Cassandra only moaned and pressed her own thighs together.

Fuck it, Lauren thought. She doubted after that that Cassandra would kill her, and even if she did, what did it matter? She was too horny to care and too hard to think properly.

Cassandra made a sound between a yelp and a moan when Lauren reached out and forcefully pulled her legs apart again. It was funny how the servant cupped herself through her uniform to receive some relief, but didn’t grant Cassandra the same thing.

”That’s it, good slut. Ah-Ah! Don’t forget that spot, baby, you mother demands our work to be done perfectly.”, Lauren cooed. She squeezed Cassandra’s jaw again when the woman was finished, until she stuck her tongue out for the servant.

”Good job.”, she praised. She leant closer to Cassandra and smirked- now she definitely heard it, the tiny and low whimper coming from the brunette in front of her.

”See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”, Lauren cooed. She didn’t know how to proceed without being at risk of ruining the situation and bringing her superior out of her trance.

Cassandra gasped when her hair and hood was pulled harshly. “Answer me, brat, or do you really have no manners at all?”. Lauren wouldn’t be surprised by that, really.

”Now, was that so difficult?”, she repeated.

”No.”, Cassandra answered. The servant heard the venom in her voice, but the woman didn’t attack her. In fact, Cassandra didn’t even struggle against the hold Lauren had on her hair and hood.

”You won’t make any more messes for me to clean, is that understood, brat?”. Lauren’s tone was harsh and unforgiving.

”Yes.”

Lauren couldn’t believe her luck. Cassandra Dimitrescu was on the floor in front of her, obeying her and behaving like a well trained submissive. She could work with that…

No, Lauren reminded herself. As much as she wanted to take advantage of her newest relationship shift with the brunette, and as much as she wanted to order her to kill that maiden and that servant, or how she wanted her to get her a raise, Cassandra was no dog. Lauren knew that, too. She was not fond of the bratty woman, but was unwilling to treat her wrongly, especially when Cassandra seemed so cute and pretty on the floor for her.

But why? Why let Lauren take control in the first place? She was not foolish enough to think she could actually overthrow Cassandra- the woman was, in a way, perfectly in control of the situation and could shift it and kill Lauren in less than a second.

So why her? Cassandra seemed to have taken a liking to her, she knew that, how could she not when Cassandra was around her every day (though usually killing or teasing others in front of her), but up until that moment Lauren had no idea how valuable that was.

”What do you want, Cassandra?”, She asked curiously.

Fuck; how the brunette woman lifted her head as soon as her hair was released and looked up at Lauren with those big, golden eyes. She had one lazy eye, something Lauren hadn’t really noticed before. Nor did she want to, really. Usually looking at Cassandra too long didn’t end well for a person.

”I-“…the words died on Cassandra’s tongue. What did she want? She didn’t plan for this to happen, but it felt so good, so she continued. But why? She liked Lauren, always killed those that annoyed her and even left little presents- arms or legs- in those area where she knew the maid would work. But she hadn’t planned this and had no reply for the other woman.

Lauren seemed to notice that too, for she cupped Cassandra’s face and stroked her cheek with her thumb.

Cassandra looked so lovely in that moment, not spoiled or angry or dangerous, but beautiful. Lauren didn’t want anybody else to see her that way, and not only because that would have her lose the current power she held. Not over Cassandra necessarily, but the other servants. She, in that moment, had Cassandra, which meant she could have any servant of little importance killed if she only voiced it.

”You’re so pretty”. It was not a lie, Lauren didn’t lie. She didn’t lie when she said this, she didn’t hold back before when Cassandra snapped at her.

She lowered herself to the floor too and stroked Cassandra’s cheek a little. It was surprisingly soft, her skin, almost like the one of a princess, not the one of a murderer.

Slowly, so Cassandra could stop her, Lauren reached out with her hand until she had it between Cassandra’s legs, cupping her cunt gently. “Is this what you want?”, she asked lowly. Cassandra was so hot, even through her panties and it made her hard dick hurt even more. She wanted to bury herself inside of Cassandra so long already, but never acted on it- of course.

She smirked a little when Cassandra nodded, then remembered something and added a “Yes”

But Lauren wanted more.

”Manners, baby. Basic conversation skills. You want something from me, you’ll ask nicely.”

Cassandra frowned for a second, as if she didn’t understand, then hissed at Lauren again. She stopped when her jaw was squeezed, falling back into her obedient state.

Lauren waited and stroked the woman’s cheek again with her thumb.

She saw the exact moment when the woman’s last bit of pride left her and she gave into Lauren. Her cunt pressed against Lauren’s hand harder and she nuzzled into the hand on her face a little bit.

”Yes, please.”

“Good girl.”. Lauren loved how Cassandra’s eyes snapped to her when she said it, wide as if she had never heard the phrase before- maybe she hadn’t, or at least not in that context.

She scanned the room- it was a guest chamber, so there was a bed at least, and not such a small one either, but she half debated whether or not she should just take Cassandra on the floor. It was somewhat erotic, thinking of the spoiled brunette, treated like a princess by servants and her mother, showered in fancy clothes and warm baths, taken and brought to orgasm on a hard floor, or on a dirty carpet (Lauren was not about to pick up her work again until she was finished with Cassandra).

“Undress and lay down.”, she said with and small slap against Cassandra’s cheek and pussy. The woman stayed silent, only pressed her thighs together again a little, and turned her back to Lauren.

She raised an eyebrow at that and huffed a little when Cassandra’s hand reached back and scooped the hair out of the way. Of course the spoiled woman was used to servants taking off her dress.

But Lauren could work with that. She untied the corset a little bit, before tugging on the strings. Cassandra gasped audibly at the tight feeling around her chest and reached back to feel the hard corset.

She breathed a little harder, a little bit more desperate, when Lauren tightened the corset a little more around her slut. She reached forwards, between Cassandra’s spread legs, and cupped her cunt again, under her dress that time.

When she found and rubbed her clit, Cassandra moaned. The tight corset and strong finger against her clit- it was so good, so much more than she had expected to receive. Cassandra was ready to strike the woman down with her sickle and drink her blood at any moment, yes, half expected to get laughed at when she licked the blood off the floor, but Lauren didn’t do that. She had watched Cassandra hungrily, as if she was the predator between the two of them, and then continued dominating the woman as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do for a servant.

Lauren chuckled a little when she let go of the corset strings and removed her hand from between Cassandra’s legs and the woman gasped lowly.

“Now undress and lay down, I don’t want to have to tell you again.”

Cassandra took her sweet time undressing, teasing Lauren with a small smirk on her face, before she laid down on her front.

Her ass was presented nicely to Lauren, moving slightly and showing how needy the brunette woman really was. But Lauren didn’t want that, not yet.

”On your back, Cassandra.”. Her tone left no space for complains.

She watched hungrily as Cassandra turned around, her eyes staring at Lauren’s, her chest heaving a little, her thighs pressed together harshly. Lauren would have to correct that of course.

She rubbed her palm against her bulge, trying to relieve herself a little. She wanted to drag this out a little bit, not just push into Cassandra and cum already- she wasn’t sure if she was ever granted another opportunity and was therefore determined to touch every single part of the pretty brunette.

”Spread your legs.”, she said, slightly breathlessly. Cassandra hadn’t taken off her panties, not yet, but her bare breasts were enough to have pre-cum leak from Lauren’s dick. She cursed herself a little- the servant’s uniform couldn’t always be washed that easily.

She bit her lip then, an idea coming to her mind. She wouldn’t- couldn’t- act on it, there just weren’t enough uniforms, but the idea of Cassandra in her maid uniform, tits pressed together by the tight fabric, pussy drooling on the floor because she wasn’t allowed any panties per Lauren’s order, skirt barely covering Cassandra’s round ass…

She rubbed herself through the skirt and panties before she knew it.

Only Cassandra’s moan and small whine brought her out of her haze again.

Lauren dragged the tip of her index finger over Cassandra’s panties, chuckling when she found the part of them covering her entrance to be utterly soaked through.

”Mommy.”

Lauren raised an eyebrow at that. Had it not been spoken to breathlessly and desperately, the servant would have feared to find Alcina Dimitrescu behind her somewhere. But she wasn’t, they were alone in the guest chamber.

Lauren’s dick hurt a little when she thought of the words again.

”Such a dirty girl, calling me Mommy.”, she taunted and leant over Cassandra. She forced herself not to thrust against her clothed cunt. She knew Cassandra’s soaked panties would leave her wetness on her uniform, something she did not wish to have to explain when she brought it to the laundry for it to be washed.

Cassandra whined lowly at Lauren’s words, trying to avoid her eye and blushing a little. “You want Mommy to fuck you?”, Lauren cooed. She grabbed Cassandra’s jaw when the woman still avoided her eyes.

”Now, don’t forget your manners, baby, Mommy asked you a question.”. She loved how Cassandra blushed a bit more and how her hips raised a little, trying to have Lauren touch her. Her spread legs were on either side of the castle employee and squeezed her hips a little.

“Yes, please”, Cassandra answered breathlessly. Lauren was almost proud of herself and her brunette. She didn’t even have to remind Cassandra of the ‘please’. But she wanted a little more.

”’Yes, please’, what?”

Her grip on Cassandra’s jaw didn’t let the woman turn away to hide her blush when she answered: “Yes, please, Mommy.

”Good girl.”, Lauren praised. Cassandra moaned lowly and tried raising her hips again.

Lauren leant back again and slowly took off her uniform, trying her best not to think about how good it would look on the woman in front of her- how Cassandra’d look with the tight maid uniform on her body, a vibrator inside of her, forced to scrub the floor for Lauren. Or maybe on her knees, vibrator inside of her, maid uniform squeezing her body together (even more so than normal, for Lauren was slightly shorter than Cassandra and had smaller breasts), sucking Lauren off like a good girl while trying not to come herself…

Fuck, she groaned at the mere imagination.

The thought of it was just too nice, so when she was completely undressed, she put her stockings on Cassandra and wrapped her soft, black belt around the woman’s stomach tightly. She finished her slut’s look by putting her skirt on Cassandra. It fit Lauren rather good, so it reached a little above her knees, but on Cassandra it ended mid-thigh and laid tight against her hips. The look made the woman look even more submissive and slutty, Lauren loved it.

She smirked at Cassandra; on her back, legs spread wide open for her, deliciously beautiful and staring hungrily at Lauren’s dick.

”Mommy, inside!”, The brat demanded breathlessly. Lauren tsk’ed and leant over the woman again, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to the hard porcelain floor. Cassandra moaned when Lauren pushed her knee between her thighs and rubbed her wet cunt with it.

”Fuck, you’re such a wet girl, soaking through your slutty panties for Mommy. Do you really think you get to make such a demand now, Cassandra?”, Lauren asked. She leant down and licked over Cassandra’s nipple and grinned when the woman’s back arched off the floor and she moaned. When she bit the hard little bud, Cassandra shrieked and tried pressing her legs together- something that obviously didn’t work out with Lauren in-between them.

”Such a sensitive girl, maybe Mommy should be more careful?”, She taunted. Cassandra whimpered lowly, but didn’t respond. Instead the woman tried her best to grind back against the knee rubbing against her.

She loved every second of this- from talking back to Cassandra goddamn Dimitrescu to licking her sensitive nipples and rubbing her through her panties while she wore parts of Lauren’s uniform.

Cassandra moaned and moaned, she just didn’t have it in her to stop or quieten down. She never thought being tamed like this would be this good. Sure, she felt naturally attracted to Lauren, enough to watch her when she worked, enough to rub her thighs together when she fought with the other maidens and made her dominance clear, but this-nothing could beat this.

She gasped when she felt Lauren’s cock against her, rubbing it’s tip between her folds. She hadn’t realized when Lauren let go of her wrists, nor did she notice it when her panties were taken off.

Upon looking down, the found the skirt hiked up a little further, so it now pooled around her hips and revealed her soaked lower parts.

”Mommy!”, She complained angrily when after some seconds Lauren still didn’t enter her. She wanted- no, needed- to be filled already!

”What does my good girl want?”, Lauren cooed. She loved hearing Cassandra’s breath hitch a little whenever she used that particular pet name on her. “Inside, Mommy”. She almost laughed at how needy the big, bad Cassandra Dimitrescu sounded, reduced to nothing more than a horny slut for her dick.

”We speak in full sentences, spoiled girl.”, Lauren responded harshly. She’d make a good slut out of Cassandra yet and fuck the last bits of disobedience out of her.

”Please fill my hole, Mommy!”.

Lauren smirked. It was a good start, but not what she wanted just yet.

Cassandra huffed when the woman stood up from the ground and watched her with an angry frown as she walked around the room. She couldn’t leave her like that! And she wouldn’t. Cassandra, no matter what a pitiful waste it would be, would have to kill her before she’d go around telling people of this- she had a title to defend, after all, and surely people wouldn’t respect and fear her as much anymore if they heard what was going on behind closed doors between Lauren and her.

She was about to stand up and summon her sickle when Lauren’s words stopped and calmed her. “Stay on the ground for Mommy.”

”Wait for Mommy”

”Be my good girl”

Each phrase was spoken after some seconds, until Lauren seemed to have found what she was looking for. A candle? Cassandra frowned angrily again- did her plaything seriously stop this just for a more romantic setting? That dumb trick might work on Daniela, but not the middle sister.

Thankfully, Lauren knew that. She smirked when she sat back down between Cassandra’s legs and pushed the candle inside. She chuckled when Cassandra yelped- both at the dry candle entering her- and the sudden fill.

Lauren moved the candle in and out fast, watching as Cassandra’s hips rolled and tried to match the brutal pace. “Mo-mmy!”

Cassandra moaned and grabbed her breasts, desperately trying to ground herself. The candle wasn’t overly thick, but long enough to make her see stars after only a few thrusts.

”What, little brat? Not what you were hoping for? Well, baby, Mommy expects you to talk loud and clear for her and when she asks you what you want-“, she thrust the candle a little harder -“, Mommy expects you to answer correctly. Unless of course you wanted a candle in your tight, little pussy? Hmm, you didn’t specify that either, actually.”

Cassandra didn’t have time to brace herself when the candle was pulled out and pushed against her asshole instead.

”Nonono- Mommy!”, She whimpered. Lauren made sure the brunette was more or less comfortable and the candle was wet, before she spread Cassandra’s leg a little more to the side and pushed the candle inside. She was almost impressed with how flexible Cassandra was, there no resistance when her legs were spread far at all.

She bit her lip at the little yelp she received in reply and watched her girl squirm a little, adjusting to the candle inside of her ass. “Aww, was that the first time your little ass was filled?”, She cooed when she understood what was going on.

”Makes me almost sad, thinking I could have slipped my fat dick in your virgin asshole instead.”

Cassandra moaned and whimpered, trying to adjust to the strange but good feeling. It hurt a little, but she didn’t really mind. Lauren wasn’t fucking her quickly anymore, but, despite her harsh words, pushed the candle in and out gentle enough for Cassandra to adjust very quickly.

”Now, Mommy will ask her little brat again, what does she want?”

”Please fuck my pussy with your dick, Mommy.”, Cassandra said breathlessly, trying her best to be specific that time- she didn’t think Lauren would dare making her wait, but clearly the maid had no qualms about that at all.

”Good girl, you’re learning so fast”, Lauren cooed. She moaned when she pushed her dick inside of Cassandra and momentarily stopped thrusting the candle to spread the brunette woman’s second leg to the side and make enough space for her hips.

”Fuck, you’re so damn tight and wet, you sure liked the candle, didn’t you? Did you like licking the floor like a misbehaving slut? Maybe Mommy will make you clean your cum off too?”

Cassandra moaned when her thigh was slapped when she didn’t respond. The floor underneath between her thighs was littered with little drops of Lauren’s pre-cum and Cassandra’s arousal.

”Y-Yes, Mo-Ah! Mommy!”

”Good girl, remember your manners, baby.”

Lauren thrust a little faster.

”Tha-ah!-nk you for filling me, M-Mommy.”

She groaned and held onto Cassandra’s thighs to thrust a little deeper.

”You’ll ask Mommy for permission to come, is that understood? Or else Mommy’s going to have to punish this cute pussy, and really, I’d rather fuck it than punish it.”

Cassandra nodded quickly when the thrusts became rougher. “Y-Yes, Mommy, I’ll ask”

”Spread your pussy, baby, Mommy wants to see this.”

Cassandra, obedient as she surprisingly was, reached down with one of her hands- the other holding her breast tightly- and spread her lips like Lauren demanded. She moaned too when she lifted her body a little and saw the large dick moving in and out of her with ease. She gasped and moaned when it made her tighten around the dick and the candle.

“Good girl, who would have thought you’d be such an obedient slut for Mommy?”, Lauren cooed with a series of harder thrusts. Cassandra’s body slid up and down on the floor with each thrust.

She grabbed the belt around Cassandra’s hips and used it to bring the woman’s body further down for each thrust into her. Cassandra moaned and whimpered, trying her best to keep her legs and pussy lips spread obediently, but fuck- it felt so good, being fucked in her pussy while occasionally tightening around the candle. Lauren held her thigh to hard and tugged on the belt so ruthlessly, as if she didn’t at all care whether or not Cassandra liked the feeling caused by it.

”Mommy…”, She moaned breathlessly after some seconds already. She threw her head back and moaned when Lauren looked directly at her.

”Is my little slut close? Do you want to cover Mommy’s dick in your filthy juices, Cassi?”

Cassandra would have protested at the embarrassing nickname, but the harsh pounding hardly left her time to collect her breath before the penis pushed into her again.

”Do you want to milk Mommy’s cock with your tight pussy? Mommy thinks you do, just look at your greedy cunt taking everything!”

Lauren watched with a self satisfied smirk as Cassandra became more and more worked up under and around her, trying to squirm on the floor, but being denied doing so by simple but powerful tugs on the belt.

She moaned when her dick was squeezed again. She never had a pussy this good, or well, hardly had any pussy at all, except for the three or four maidens that had slept with her once. But they didn’t even come close to Cassandra.

The woman was so pretty, shaved pussy and ass for Lauren, soft and wet just how she liked it, squeezing her dick so often and moaning at the pre-cum drooling into her hole because of it.

Lauren eyed the candle and grinned. She remembered Cassandra’s surprised squeal when it was pushed into her virgin ass, how she moaned filthily when it fucked her. Lauren couldn’t wait feeling the tight hole around herself, but supposed she’d have to make do with a finger. Her penis was too large to go into Cassandra’s ass just yet.

”Mo-Ah! Mommy!”, Cassandra whimpered. Her back felt sore from the hard ground already, but what really annoyed her was that she had to ask Lauren for permission to come. She! She, who was her superior! But Cassandra knew the maid was not above denying her an orgasm, so she swallowed down the last bit of her pride in order to get her orgasm.

”Please, Mommy! I-Ah! I want to come!”, Cassandra begged. Her cunt squeezed Lauren’s dick again, bringing her almost to orgasm as well.

”Fuck, okay, baby, mess Mommy’s dick.”

She thrusted a few more times until Cassandra came, then buried herself as deep as she could and shot her own load in. For a second she feared Cassandra might actually get pregnant (yes, Alcina Dimitrescu would most likely kill her in the most brutal way for putting a baby in her cute middle child), but she dropped the thought again. Surely Cassandra couldn’t even get pregnant, being made of insects and all. And even if she could, her pussy just felt too heavenly for Lauren to even consider pulling out and wasting her cum by shooting it against Cassandra’s tits. Though the thought of covering the spoiled woman’s face in her seeds was rather appealing.

“Good girl”, She praised breathlessly and pulled back out. She held Cassandra’s legs open when she tried closing them- too sensitive to keep her shaking legs spread- and watched hungrily as her cum drooled out of Cassandra again.

The Dimitrescu moaned when the candle was removed and thrust back inside her pussy to stop the rest of the seeds from drooling out.

”That’s it, baby, can you feel Mommy inside of you?”

A quick nod- Cassandra was still trying to catch her breath.

”You’re such a pretty cum slut for Mommy, keeping her seeds inside your tight cunt and keeping them warm.”

Cassandra stayed silent at that, still trying to catch her breath, but Lauren didn’t mind that.

“You’re going to clean Mommy up, yes, good girl?”, Lauren cooed and climbed on top of the other woman. She bit her lip when her dick laid on top of Cassandra’s breasts, smearing their shared come on them.

”Open your mouth, slutty girl.”

Cassandra did so without any complaints.

She moved a little higher until her dick was inside Cassandra’s mouth. She saw the woman’s tongue twitching, eager to move and feel already. “Clean Mommy up, little slut.”

Cassandra closed her mouth around the penis and immediately started moving her tongue around it, cleaning and sucking the large dick greedily. She bobbed her head a little, until Lauren moved even higher up her body and buried her penis entirely in Cassandra’s mouth and down her throat.

She moaned when the brunette woman licked her and rubbed her with her tongue and held the back of Cassandra’s head to keep her close against her.

She traced the skin of her neck, smirking when she felt her own dick against it.

Cassandra gasped when Lauren choked her- not enough for it to be threatening (no matter how much the brunette submitted, it was unwise triggering any survival instincts just yet), but enough for Cassandra to feel it.

She squealed in surprise when Lauren drew her hips back, before she slammed them forwards against Cassandra’s face again.

”Keep your mouth open.”, Lauren grunted and commanded. She moaned when she felt her dick going down Cassandra’s throat with each thrust and felt it on the other side of Cassandra’s neck against her hand. She tapped the choker necklace that all sisters wore, watching as it became even tighter when her penis went down Cassandra’s throat.

She was aware that Cassandra pressed her legs together and squirmed with her lower half, but paid no attention to that. She brunette wasn’t getting off like that and the candle only slipped out slowly, so it wasn’t Lauren’s concern just yet.

She moaned above the woman and fucked her face a little harder. She grew a little frustrated when Cassandra didn’t gag around her, no matter how hard she slammed her hips forwards, but eventually gave up on it. She briefly thought about how many dicks Cassandra had down her throat already and thrust a little faster. She didn’t want to know the answer, really. Cassandra was hers now, which was all that mattered. No other person- man or woman- would get their hands on her again as long as Lauren was around. No one would fuck her throat, no one would fill her holes other than Lauren.

She shivered when Cassandra moaned around the dick and she felt the vibrations. “You like that, baby?”

Cassandra couldn’t answer with the dick in her mouth, but licked it a little more.

Lauren squeezed her throat a little, but then let go of it again when she saw the woman’s hands twitching. She was probably stupid for playing with such a dangerous creature, something she just then really noticed, but didn’t care.

She decided to take it a little farther.

”Touch Mommy’s breasts, baby.”

Cassandra blindly reached up- her eyes were closed to avoid the inevitable tears from running down her cheeks and messing the little make up she wore- and held Lauren’s breasts eagerly. Lauren felt her claw-like nails against her sensitive breasts, but trusted Cassandra to have enough control so she wouldn’t slice through Lauren with them.

She reached back with her free hand and thrust the candle back in, before she turned back to Cassandra’s head.

Her thrusts were rather sloppy already and her legs trembled. “Look at Mommy when she’s fucking your throat, Cassandra!”, She commanded breathlessly.

She cupped Cassandra’s face when the woman reluctantly opened her eyes and stared up at Lauren. Drool was running down her chin and dropping to her collarbones and tears ran down her cheeks from the constant thrusts into her mouth and down her throat. Her dark lipstick was smeared all over her lips, over and under them, and a little over Lauren’s dick.

”You want Mommy’s cum?”, Lauren asked breathlessly. She was so close.

”Yye’a’s, M-ogh-my!”

She chuckled at her slut’s efforts and rewarded her by orgasming and shooting thick ropes of cum down her throat.

Cassandra moaned and coughed when the dick was removed, but quickly pressed her eyes shut when more cum splattered against her face. Her mouth, still open for Lauren, her wet chin, her cheeks, her forehead, until the flower tattoo was almost not visible anymore below the cum.

”Fuck, good girl.”, Lauren panted. She breathlessly reached out and removed some of her cum from Cassandra’s hair and smeared it on the woman’s chest. Her dick rested against her lips still, but didn’t thrust into her anymore.

”Mommy”, the woman under her moaned breathlessly. She was so needy again, but the candle hardly moved within her. She felt it slipping out of her slowly, together with some of Lauren’s sperm, but that rather humiliated her than brought her enough pleasure to get off.

“Get on the bed, baby.”, Lauren cooed and lifted herself off of Cassandra. The woman got up as well, moaned when Lauren pushed the candle back in properly, and moved to the bed like she was told.

Lauren cooed when she walked over to the bed as well and fixed Cassandra’s (Lauren’s) skirt again. The brunette woman whimpered at that, but didn’t stop the movement. Lauren tugged her a little closer by the belt around her stomach and fixed her stockings again like the good castle maid she was, always pampering their superiors, until it all looked in place again. She kissed the woman’s bare back and delivered a small, harmless spank to her ass, before she laid down on the bed.

”Sit on Mommy’s face, Cassandra.”

Lauren gasped in surprise when she felt flies around her, before Cassandra resurfaced on her face, one thigh on each side of Lauren’s head, skirt over her head and pussy pressing against her lips greedily.

Lauren was surprised by the action, but quickly recovered. What did she expect? That Cassandra never made use of her ability to form into a thousand little flies? Lauren wasn’t disgusted by it, unlike most people, but checked whether the candle was still inside.

”Good girl.”, She praised when she found it still buried inside of Cassandra. The woman moaned on top of her, but held her hips still like a good submissive, no matter how much she wanted to grind against Lauren’s pretty face already and smear her juices all over her.

Cassandra moaned breathlessly when the candle was removed and tossed aside. Immediately seeds started drooling out, but Lauren quickly licked these away and pushed Cassandra a little lower against her face.

The brunette moaned when she felt Lauren’s tongue on her; first cleaning the mess she had left on and inside of Cassandra, then sucking her sloppy lips in her mouth. Cassandra moaned and held onto Lauren’s face, trying her best not to thrust forwards.

She gasped when she felt Lauren’s hand on her ass, slowly moving between her ass cheeks until her index finger pressed against Cassandra’s hole.

”Mhmm, such a sweet ass, Mommy’s going to fuck it soon.”

Cassandra moaned when Lauren’s tongue pushed into her heat at the same time when her finger pushed into her ass.

It felt so good, but she knew not to move her hips overly much.

Cassandra rolled them with each movement inside of her and moaned when Lauren didn’t stop her, but only held onto her thigh a little harder.

The finger pumped in and out of her tight ass steadily, while the tongue inside of her licked and sucked restlessly.

Cassandra moaned when Lauren pulled away a little and licked all the way up to her clit, before she took the small bundle in her mouth and sucked it.

She couldn’t control her shaking thighs, or her rolling hips, and only occasionally let out little “Ah!”’s. She shrieked when another finger pushed into her ass and thrusted into her quickly.

”Ma-Ah!-Mommy!”, She shrieked and moaned, trying to get a hold of herself despite the stretch of her ass and the wonderful feeling against her pussy and clit.

Cassandra moaned when the hand on her thigh reached up and held her breast, fingers reaching up to toy with her nipple.

She thrust her hips accidentally, but stopped again when her breast was slapped harshly and her nipple was pulled so hard that Cassandra tried following with her entire upper body.

She gasped when her clit was released again and Lauren licked away the juices that had drooled out of her.

”Cum when you’re ready, baby.”, She said, albeit a bit muffled, but Cassandra heard her nonetheless. “Thank you, mommy!”, She said breathlessly, knowing Lauren demanded her to have good manners.

She moaned and tightened around the fingers in her ass, fucking her quick and stretching her tight hole for Lauren. Her clit was toyed with again- licked, sucked, blown on, bitten- Cassandra couldn’t focus anymore.

She rocked back and forwards desperately until her orgasm washed over her and she fell forwards.

Lauren moved back up from under Cassandra and traced the woman’s ass gently over her dark blue skirt. She removed her fingers and inspected them, checking how far she stretched Cassandra and whether she’d be ready for her dick.

“Such a good girl for Mommy, you did so well, Cassandra.”, She cooed and stroked over Cassandra’s back. The woman moaned and purred quietly at the action, welcoming Lauren’s warm touch and soaking in it greedily.

Lauren was a little surprised at that- making Cassandra orgasm and fucking her was one thing, caressing her back and receiving little, content purrs something else entirely.

She looked over the woman’s form- the tight belt around her stomach, the cute black stockings on her, the dark blue-blackish skirt barely covering her most intimate parts, underneath her cunt and thighs utterly soaked, clit wet with her cum and Lauren’s spit.

Cassandra’s hair was a mess, and if she turned around, her face would prove to be the same. Dries tears on her cheek, slightly smudged makeup, dried come on her entire face.

Lauren surprised herself a little when she leant down and kissed Cassandra’s shoulder, before she pulled the brunette back up to her.

Cassandra watched her hungrily over her shoulder as Lauren reached down, lifted her skirt and dragged her dick between Cassandra’s thighs. She felt the brunette’s round ass against her front, practically begging to be filled and stretched further.

Lauren thrusted a little faster.

She chuckled when she accidentally rubbed the tip against Cassandra’s clit and the woman moaned. She didn’t say anything when Cassandra pressed her thighs harder together, but moaned lowly.

”Fuck, what a slut. You want Mommy’s cock back inside you?”, Lauren asked breathlessly.

She continued thrusting- she wanted her entire dick wet with Cassandra’s cum.

”Yes, please, Mommy! Please come in my pussy again!”, Cassandra begged, remembering Lauren’s words from before.

Mommy expects you to talk loud and clear for her and when she asks you what you want

She was already so horny again, feeling Lauren’s big cock thrusting between her thighs, high enough to brush against her pussy and clit but not entering her.

She whimpered when Lauren merely chuckled.

”Such a dirty girl, but no. Mommy wants to fill your other hole now. She already came in your wet pussy and down your tight throat, now Mommy’s going to mark your tiny asshole.”, Lauren groaned.

Cassandra whimpered when Lauren pulled away, just before she could get off to the thrusts against her clit, and gasped when the belt around her stomach was grabbed and used to pull her into Lauren’s lap.

Cassandra blushed a little when her skirt was pulled up again- it was, even after she had been fucked in all holes already- still so humiliating to see the clothe being lifted. She moaned when she felt Lauren’s breasts pressing against her back and her warm breath against her ear.

”Spread your ass cheeks.”

Cassandra whimpered, but fell quiet when Lauren shushed her- almost lovingly, too, which just made Cassandra feel even hotter.

”Come on, baby, spread them for Mommy.”

Cassandra gulped and did what she was told, spreading her cheeks to expose her hole. She blushed a little at the realization that if anyone were to walk in, they’d, due to how Lauren positioned them, see Cassandra’s exposed pussy and ass perfectly.

She felt the other woman’s cock against her and squeezed her eyes shut when she felt the large tip against her ass. She couldn’t see it from that angle, but was unsure how such a big cock would possibly fit inside her little hole.

But it did without problems, so that Lauren moaned and groaned lowly when she managed to slip her dick inside of the brunette. She was so tight and warm around her dick, squeezing it already the second she slipped in.

”Fuck, your cute ass is so tight, baby”, She moaned. She slapped Cassandra’s thigh and moaned when the woman tightened around her again.

Cassandra moaned and squirmed a little, trying to get the dick to move. “Ah-Ah-Ah, stay still, Cassandra. You don’t want to be a brat, do you? Brats get punishments, baby, but most importantly, brats don’t get to come.”, Lauren whispered in her ear lowly. Cassandra whimpered and quickly shook her head. No, she wanted to be Lauren’s good girl! Really, she did! She wanted the woman and she wanted to be hers!

“Good girl, that’s what I thought.”, Lauren cooed and pressed a small kiss behind Cassandra’s ear. She waited a few seconds to make sure the brunette got used to the large dick inside of her, before she started thrusting upwards.

She had one arm around Cassandra’s waist to keep her in place, the felt tightly in her hand, while her other one toyed with Cassandra’s nipple again.

”Look at you, such a sensitive little thing. Do you like it when Mommy plays with you, Cassandra?”, She cooed. Cassandra felt so wonderfully around her and milked her dick every few seconds, her tight ass feeling even better when it squeezed Lauren.

”Y-Yes, Mommy, thank you.”, Cassandra moaned breathlessly.

”Such good manners, little slut, Mommy’s good little girl.”, she cooed. “Spit on your sensitive nipples, slutty girl.”, Lauren instructed. She thrust a little quicker when Cassandra did so and spread the spit over the nipple and breast until it glistened with salvia.

Cassandra moaned and arched her back at the faster, deeper thrusts and the way Lauren tugged and pinched her nipple just right. Just enough for the pain to be pleasurable, but not enough for it to leave any marks other than a red, sore nipple. She flicked the little bud and squeezed Cassandra’s breast.

Her ass felt so stretched and good, her poor nipple was so red and sensitive from Lauren’s touch. Cassandra felt the woman’s balls slapping against her ass with each thrust.

”Come on, baby, take it.”, Lauren grunted and thrust a little faster. Cassandra moaned and panted. She opened her mouth obediently when Lauren raised her hand and spit on her fingers when she commanded her to.

Cassandra moaned and arched her back into Lauren’s hands when her other nipple was coated in her spit as well and received the same treatment as the one before.

“Mommy! Please, can I come?”, She begged breathlessly. Lauren chuckled equally breathless and thrust a little deeper, until her dick was buried deep within Cassandra, then pulled back out almost fully, before she slammed it back in all the way.

”How could Mommy tell you no when you beg so politely, baby”, She replied with another tug on Cassandra’s nipple.

The woman screamed as she came, but shrieked when instead is stopping, Lauren flipped them over, so Cassandra knelt on all fours and Lauren was bent over her, and continued fucking her.

Lauren didn’t even stop when she came herself and filled Cassandra’s ass, but instead let go of the brunette woman’s waist and nipple. One hand reached down and filled Cassandra’s pussy with three fingers, the other held the woman’s belt and used it to pull her backwards with every thrust.

Cassandra gasped and squirmed when she heard her sisters- first in her head, then in the hallway.

”N-No-Nonono!”, She shrieked. She knew they’d walk in, because of course they did!

Cassandra blushed bright red when the door swung open and Bela and Daniela stepped into the room.

”Hey Cass, you’re late for dinne-Ah!”, Daniela gasped upon seeing her older sister, usually so rude and dominant and strong now on all fours on the bed, fucked in two of her holes at once by a maiden while drooling so much her come-painted face was wet.

Cassandra gasped when Lauren thrust into her again.

”What are you doing!”, Bela yelled outraged. She pulled out her sickle, ready to tear the foolish maiden off of her sister and drag her to the dungeons, should she not kill her right in that guest room.

Lauren noticed and quickly removed her hand from the belt. She stroked Cassandra’s back sweetly. “Stop them, baby.”, She whispered lowly, too low for Bela and Daniela to hear, but enough for Cassandra to make out.

The brunette woman snarled at her sister before she could even take a step closer, asserting her dominance even in such a situation.

”Leave!”, She yelled angrily and hissed back at both sisters like a disturbed cat. Lauren stroked her back gently, as if she was rewarding her girl. Bela looked at her wide eyed, but quickly grabbed her sister’s arm and dragged her back out of the room.

”Good girl, Cassandra, protecting Mommy.”, Lauren cooed. She knew they’d be heard eventually, but it went exactly like she thought it would.

Cassandra was, despite not being the eldest sister, the one that easily took charge between the three of them, so Lauren considered herself save from pretty much all danger (except that caused by Alcina Dimitrescu herself) as long as Cassandra only maintained a liking to her.

“Such a good girl.”, She cooed with another stroke over Cassandra’s back.

”Move!”, Cassandra ordered, but quickly whimpered and lowered her head when her thigh was slapped.

”No misbehaving with Mommy, slutty girl.”, Lauren reminded her harshly.

She would have almost laughed at how easily Cassandra fell back into her submissive state, especially since she had just hissed and snarled at her sisters like a dangerous animal.

“Sorry, Mommy.”, Cassandra whispered. The apology felt unnatural on her tongue- she had never, ever apologized, not even to her sisters, but she knew it was what Lauren demanded.

“Good girl. You won’t let your sisters take Mommy from you, will you, pretty girl?”, Lauren cooed. Her dick was still deep inside Cassandra, occasionally being squeezed.

“No, Mommy.”

Lauren kissed the woman’s head as a reward and continued her thrusts- there was enough talking already.

Cassandra moaned and panted again, feeling her ass- now wet inside with Lauren’s sperm- being fucked harshly and feeling her pussy being filled again.

It didn’t take long until both women came again, the last time that time. Unlike Cassandra, Lauren paid attention to the sister’s words and did not want Alcina Dimitrescu herself coming upstairs to check on her late child missing dinner.

She slipped back out of Cassandra and watched hungrily as her seeds drooled out of her, before she retrieved their clothes again.

She put her own panties on Cassandra and smirked when she tugged on them and the brunette moaned. Something for another time, maybe.

She removed the skirt and stockings from Cassandra, as well as the belt, and helped her put on her dress, her corset especially, again. Like before, Lauren tied it a little too tight, loose enough for Cassandra to still be able to breath, but tight enough to serve as a constant reminder of their activities.

She put on her own clothes and Cassandra’s panties again- she scoffed a little at the expensive and soft fabric; the woman truly was spoiled- before she licked her thumb and cleaned Cassandra’s face.

She used the water from before, cold now and originally there for her to scrub the floor, but it was clean enough and all they had. Cassandra whined when her face was cleaned, but knew it was necessary. While people wouldn’t spot the seeds on her immediately, they would upon looking at her closely and, knowing her family, Cassandra knew they’d smell them too.

She knew she reeked of sex and Lauren’s sperm inside of her, but couldn’t do something about that, so the brunette just hoped her family wouldn’t bring it up.

Lauren looked the woman over again for a last checkup. She fixed her hair for the 4th time and pressed a small kiss to Cassandra’s forehead, before she let go of the woman again.

”Now off to dinner, wouldn’t want to keep your mother waiting.”, she said with a small grin.

”Yes, Mommy.”, Cassandra responded automatically, then blushed and looked away when Lauren chuckled and smirked at her.

She did her best to focus back on the present and pulled Lauren closer to her one last time.

”The last room on this level, next to the armory, near the second entrance to the dungeons”

Lauren nodded. She knew that room, Cassandra’s room.

She was less cocky now. Playing with Cassandra when she was naked and below her was one thing, but she didn’t know what the brunette viewed her as now that it was over.

Luckily that question answered itself.

”It’s your new room.”

[rickittys]

aight another thought: ricky switching from a soft dom to a hard dom (bcs you went bratty).

i’m like. not used to writing hard dom material? so this might come off as more jealous! or possessive!ricky so my bad o(-<

thinking about being his diamond plus one to a high fashion after-party with him. dressed to the nines in matching versace with custom made jewelry curtesy of your beloved ricky, you were basically glued to his side the whole night. <3 ricky enjoyed having his arm linked with yours, smile growing when he’d introduce you to partners and higher ups. “yeah she’s…even more breathtaking than the last time i looked at her. which was thirty seconds ago,” he’d gush, kissing your cheek while you grinned shyly.

at some point in the night, you briefly split up-ricky discussing the next season’s line with some designers while you spoke with a senior director and other partygoers. you were oblivious to the stares from various people at the event, some asking if you had a place to stay that night, if they could have your number, the works. from across the venue, ricky felt pricks of jealousy in his chest. it was like he teleported to your side as he made a show of tugging you by the waist. he rushed an excuse about an early flight the next day as he ushered you out.

once you arrived at your hotel room, you spun around in confusion. “and what was that all about?” you asked, brows furrowed. ricky was stripping off his clothes, staring at you with a gaze you couldn’t identify.

“did you..like getting all the attention from those guys back there?” he questioned, arms crossing. you tilted your head and after a moment, you laughed quietly. “oh baby, you feeling jealous?”

he didn’t answer, running a hand through his hair. you pouted, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “i mean,” you begin, pressing a hand to his chest, “i felt a bit like marilyn monroe, i won’t lie.” you giggle as a look of irritation graced his face.

“oh so the attention i give you isn’t satisfactory, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, leaning over you. you blinked up at him playfully.

“i wouldn’t say you’re lacking by any means,” you drawled. “but-“

“you’re talking a lot for someone who’s gonna get fucked dumb,” he cut you off, pressing you against the desk to your side. it all happened so fast- your back slammed on the surface, panties torn open, and hands belted together.

you looked wildly up at ricky, everything suddenly feeling stifling hot. his sharp eyes were glazed over with lust and a hint of anger, his buldge rubbing against you while he sucked hickeys on your neck and nipped your nipples. “might need to shut you up, make you behave a bit, huh baby? got a smart mouth but you’ll still scream just for me, right?”

his taunting made you feel small yet very aroused, you panting his name and mumbling apologies of “i was just kidding” and “you know i didn’t mean it, ricky…”

“yeah?” he growled, shifting. a loud yelp left you as he yanked you legs up and back, folding you in half. “maybe you can convince them too- i’ll have you screaming loud enough for them to hear.”

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Stay

[Five Nights at Freddy's] Vanessa Shelly x Female Reader

Summary: When you threaten to leave after the relationship gets rocky, Vanessa begs you to stay.

Word Count: 2.79k Content Warnings: An argument, fear of abandonment Category: Heavy Angst + Slight Fluff || Oneshot / Preference

[A/N]: None of my stories are fully proofread, so apologies for any typos or weird pacing. I'll be answering requests very soon!

Enjoy!

From across the room, you were able to hear the sound of the TV remote slamming down against the coffee table resting a few feet in front of the sofa. When you turned to find the source of the noise, already grimacing, you were met with Vanessa glaring back at you, her eyes narrowed as she stood. A quick breath forced through your lips as you mentally readied yourself for yet another argument you knew you couldn’t prevent. Slowly, Vanessa seemed to skulk forward, though she quickened her pace briefly until she stood before you.

Her arm flew forward to allow her finger to plunge against your chest in accusation, her other hand balled up tightly into a fist at her side to stifle her trembling. All you could do was stare up at her with your lips pressed tightly shut. By then, you knew you weren’t going to win the fight. Ever since her father had shown up again and began to make her night shifts hell, her temper had only shortened further with each hour spent in his presence. Deep down, you knew she didn’t mean to take it out on you. She knew none of it was your fault. Still, it didn’t seem to cause her fury to falter.

She had only gotten home from another shift a few moments prior, and upon spotting you curled up on the couch, she joined you and clicked on the TV, unaware of the way your eyes drooped with fatigue and how you tugged the blanket tightly against yourself when she sat down. You shuffled further against the armrest and groaned at the sudden noise now blaring throughout the room, combined with the brightness of the screen that seemed to burn past your eyelids, disturbing the sleep you so desperately craved.

Confused at your discomfort, Vanessa scooted toward you and softly placed her hand against your leg. With a gentle squeeze to gain your attention, she asked if you were alright. When greeted with grumbles as a response, she could already feel her irritation beginning to bubble up beneath her skin, though she did her best to bite it back.

After a few moments of her prodding for a proper answer, you finally sat up and threw the blanket down on the floor as you stood. You glanced down at her, hardly giving her any attention before shifting around the coffee table to head through the kitchen and into the bedroom. Just as your steps had crossed the threshold, you had heard the remote clatter against the wooden surface you had swerved around, then only turned for a moment before she was in front of you.

She continued to seethe and scowl at you as you simply stayed still and silent. Trying to get a rise out of you, the palm of her hand lightly pushed you back, daring you to snap back at her. Even as she continued to bark insults at you, you managed to steady your mind enough to keep a calm tone. She didn’t mean to start the fight, you knew that, but it didn’t make it any less painful. It would end the same way as always, you were sure. Once she got it out of her system, she would apologize profusely while begging for your forgiveness, only to end up tugging you to the couch or bed to huddle up together and fall asleep.

A silent way to make amends just long enough to forget about it all.

Though you never really forgot. Each screaming match managed to seep into your brain more and more, and each one only brought you closer to tears every time she raised her voice. While she was at work, you were often left sobbing to yourself in bed, recalling the way she’d stare at you and throw accusations at your face. You were never entirely sure if you were in the right or wrong, but you knew it wasn’t right either way.

You didn’t deserve it. No matter how difficult times were for her, you didn’t deserve the constant verbal and emotional torment. When she would leave for her shift, anyone would find you sitting with your nose buried into your laptop once you finished crying. You had started trying to find a couples counselor who would hopefully help bring things together again. Once you found one, you started to think of ways to bring it up to Vanessa, worried she would only start another screaming match again.

As your gaze bored up at her, eyes glazed over with the tears you refused to let fall, it was evident she was only growing more furious when she got no reaction out of you. It seemed she hadn’t even registered the way you shook, or the way your breaths had begun to stutter, or how your fingers had curled into your shirt to clutch at the fabric.

She only continued her barrage of obscene terms directed solely toward you.

You parted your lips once her rant of how you were only bringing her more grief had begun to fizzle out, ready to try and deescalate what had been inevitable the moment she walked through the front door and tossed down her coat. Before the words could leave you, she growled out a few curses before pushing you backward once more.

“God, I wish I had never even met you,” she snarled from merely an inch away from your face.

It only took a second for her features to contort with horror. It was as if she had only just realized how cruel her words had been, finally taking notice of your pained expression as the tears finally sprung free. Your bottom lip shivered as you bit back the sobs. Your head hung heavy in defeat, salty tears trickling down your face and dripping onto the floorboards beneath you while your sorrow grew.

A soft murmur of your name brought you back to your senses after several agonizingly quiet minutes passed. You couldn’t meet her eye, even as she cupped your face and tilted your head upward. With a sniffle, you lifted your hand up far enough to brush hers away, and slowly, you stumbled backward into the kitchen. Resting there by the pantry against the wall, you slipped your keys from their hook and pocketed them.

Upon seeing you striding urgently toward the front door, Vanessa rushed by your side and took hold of your arm. In an attempt to steady her shaky hands, her nails dug into your skin. As gently as she could, she tugged you back toward her, a silent plea to stop.

“Please, don’t go,” she whimpered, a broken cry erupting from her throat. “Please, I don’t want you to leave. I’m so sorry – I’ll do anything you want to make it up to you, I promise. I just can’t lose you. Not like this.” Only for a brief second, you forced yourself to look up from the floor and glare at her. You were able to see the tears streaming down her face, brows pinched tightly together while she squinted, desperately trying to adjust to her blurry vision.

“Stay,” she whispered much softer.

Unable to form the right words, you simply stared at her until you managed to wriggle free from her grasp. Wordlessly, you flipped the locks bolted into the door and tugged it open. It took everything in you not to slam it on your way out.

It flew open again as you unlocked your car and pulled it open to slip inside. Vanessa raced down the steps of the porch to your side, her hand clasping the side of the door to prevent you from shutting it on her. Yet again, pleas poured from her lips, promises of making things right rolling off her tongue in despair. You stayed silent, then motioned for her to move. Once she did, you clutched the handle of the door, then yanked it shut.

When you lowered your eyes to shove the keys into ignition and flick the engine to life, part of you couldn’t help but wonder how things would be if you hadn’t met her the way she claimed she wanted. Your foot released the brake, and the car began to ease backward out of the driveway. Against your will, your eyes tore away from the wheel up at her. She stood there in the now empty plot of the concrete you had drifted away from, arms crossed to let her hands clench her sleeves between her fingers, gaze still trained on you as she watched you pull away.

Your heart throbbed at the sight, and you could feel the tears welling up again.

You backed into the street and drove away.

Vanessa wobbled in place as she watched the shape of your car disappear in the distance, unable to make out anything clearly as her tears continued to distort her view of the world. She waited, praying you’d turn the car around and hear her out. None of this was what she had wanted. She hadn’t meant to pick another fight, things had just been hectic. Still, there was no reason for her to make her stress your problem, she knew, yet she caused everything anyway.

An hour must’ve passed by the time she realized you wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. Shaky legs carried her back up the steps and into the house. Trudging, she managed to land on the couch before she could fully collapse. Her hands dug into the cushions as she pushed herself into the corner you had been in just before she decided to strike up another war of words.

With the little strength she still had, her arm dropped from the cushions to grab your blanket from the floor and lifted it to wrap around herself. Cool leather met her temple as she leaned against the back of the sofa and shuffled to cover her face with the soft fabric of your blanket, the ability to pick up the smell of your favorite shampoo and perfume on it bringing a very small sense of comfort. Drowsiness began to wash over her senses, nearly stopping her from looking over at the remote she had slammed onto the table, noticing how the force alone had broken the back open.

At the sight of it, her mind wandered back to the fear in your eyes when she had stormed over to you right after. Her lips pulled themselves into a grimace at the thought. To no avail, she wiped at her eyes to dry them, only for them to grow wet again. She should’ve stopped herself. You had been so tired, and all you wanted to do was rest on the couch while you waited for her to get home. All day, she had looked forward to making it home and asking about your day, excited to know you’d ask her right away how her own had been.

However, it seemed she just had to ruin the only time of bliss she would have in between shifts. You were pure comfort to her, and she adored every little thing about you. Her favorite time of the day was when she got to come home to you and spend the rest of the day or night relaxing by your side.

As she sat there on that couch, she couldn’t bite back the whimpers that escaped her when the realization began to dawn on her that she might never get to feel that spark of joy again.

She wouldn’t have you there to greet her at the door and help her strip away her uniform and slip into something more comfortable.

You wouldn’t be there in the kitchen making one of your favorite desserts, or standing there for her to sneak up behind and hug you against her front as she peppered your skin with kisses and asked about your day.

There would be no more late-night cuddle-sessions in bed with you excitedly chattering away about the latest show you had convinced her to watch with you, nor would there be any more mornings where she got to wake up to the sight of you still by her side.

More realizations of what she would lose rushed through her mind and blocked out every other problem she had. She wept and buried her face further into the blanket draped around her shoulders.

At length, she could feel her head pounding and her eyes drooping heavily with exhaustion. All too soon, she found she was too tired to cry, and she let her eyes flutter shut. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but ultimately, she dozed off.

The sound of keys clattering outside followed by the lock on the door clicking woke her up. Her head lifted from her arms, allowing her to blearily look around to regain her bearings. The doorknob rattled, bringing her attention to it and helping her understand the noise. Quickly, she tossed the blanket aside and stood from her spot on the sofa, eyes trained expectantly on the entrance while her heart hammered painfully against her ribs.

Wave after wave of relief crashed over her once she made out your frame in the doorway, meeting your eye as you stepped in and shut the door silently behind you. Afraid of startling you or stepping out of bounds, Vanessa remained planted in her spot. When you stepped closer to her and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, she followed suit and sat back where she had slept shortly before. You kept your eyes on the floorboards, and she mirrored you. Her mind screamed at her to say something – anything at all – but no words formed on her tongue.

As her eyes tore away from the teardrops she left on the wood ground, her heart leapt in her chest when she noticed you staring back at her.

When her name sprung from your lips so softly, she couldn’t stop herself from whimpering with another choked cry. She cleared her throat immediately after and nodded to prove you had her attention. She feared she’d only start sobbing if she tried to speak at that moment.

“Look,” you started quietly. “I don’t want to leave you, okay? But I also don’t want to have to live with the constant fear that you and I are going to keep fighting every single day about the smallest things. I know you’re going through a lot right now, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me so badly. I’m trying so hard to be here for you, Vanessa, but you’ve been making it so hard lately. It feels like you don’t love me anymore. All we do is fight.”

Her heart throbbed and shattered at the mention of you no longer feeling you were valued by her. It was so far from the truth. She admired and adored you so deeply, and she could never find any reason to genuinely hate you. You were everything to her, and it broke her heart to hear you confess your worry that she had fallen out of love with you. She could never fall out of love with you.

Cautiously, she watched you for any sign of discomfort as she slid close enough to cup your hand into hers. “I promise I’ll do anything to show you how much I care. I love you so much, I really do. No matter what it takes, I’ll make things right. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Your eyes flickered across her face in search of a lie, though a sigh slipped out when you found none, a curt nod of the head as your response. “All I can think of to do right now is to try counseling.” Already, you could see the hesitation building up in her. “We don’t have to go into detail about what happened with your dad, but I need you to start working things out with me. Otherwise, I can’t picture myself doing this anymore.”

A long pause greeted the end of your words.

“You promise we don’t have to talk too much about him?”

A nod.

“I promise.”

Reassuringly, her warm hands squeezed yours and she shuffled closer to tug you into her arms. “I’ll do it. I want this to work out – I love you – I can’t lose you. If you’re sure counseling would be a good first step, then I’ll do it. We’ll work through this together, okay?” She leaned back to look at you and gauge your reaction. Her tensed shoulders drooped from the solace sent her way upon seeing your lips finally perk up into a small smile. Her own curved into a mirrored grin when you nodded.

“Okay.”

[yandere-sins]

The Orcas’ Tale - Chapter V

Gosh... we're almost at the end. Can you guys do it? Or will I get you with these choices? >:3 One of them actually leads to my personal favorite bad end, so I am lowkey hoping for that, but I am excited to see what you guys will choose ♥

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Self-harm on the outer side of the forearm to help, Blood mention, Gun mention, Dub-con touches/kisses, Wound healing through licking, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death, Long post

"Think!" you hissed to yourself, looking around you in panic, trying to come up with something to help Nerrocan. 

Time was mercilessly passing you by, not allowing you even a moment to try something you weren't sure of. If you didn't believe that it could work, you couldn't risk your or Nerrocan's life with it. There was nothing for you to use on this small, deserted island, and you wouldn't be able to dive into the ocean and try to find something there, risking your life in more than one way. The situation was despairing, frustration shaking through you as you fumbled, trying to do at least something. 

But there was nothing. Just the island, the ocean, the moonlight. Sand, stars, stones…

Stones!

Falling over your own two feet, you never felt more like a useless human than in that moment, but you pushed these embarrassing thoughts away as you sifted your hands through the sand, trying to find the stone you clutched onto before. It was the most basic fact and overrated stereotype—sharks can smell blood and will react to it. Even if you only managed to distract them briefly, maybe Nerrocan would have a window to take them down. 

No one but these creatures themselves would be able to tell you if your assumption was correct. This plan had no guarantee, but your gut told you it was the best thing you could do. Finally feeling the cold surface of the stone, you grabbed it and sprang up. Stumbling over to the opposite side of the island from where they were fighting, you rolled up your sleeve as far as you could and placed the stone on the outer side of your forearm. Inhaling deeply, you breathed out before dragging the sharp side of the rock down from your hand to your elbow. You had no idea how much blood you'd need to distract them when the mermen were caught in a bloody fight, and you bit your lips so hard you tasted the iron as the pain flooded your nerves, alarming you about the wound being etched into your body. 

This was not supposed to be easy, but you groaned as you discarded the bloody stone, readying yourself for the beastly sting of saltwater in an open wound. Your head was already dizzy, and you found it hard to breathe, but muffling your scream, you plunged your arm into the ocean, keeping it there no matter how much the water burned. Tears shot in your eyes, but you repeated your goal over and over in your mind—survive.

Survive, survive, survive.

A cold hand wrapping around your wrist tore you from your mantra, a terrified squeal ripping from your throat as the unfamiliar face of one of the grey mermen emerged from the water, tightly holding on to your arm. Something about him seemed juvenile. Maybe it was the overly confident, cocky grin or the fact that he was so much smaller than what you were used to from these creatures by now. Smaller than even Lyr or the other shark merman that attacked you before.

But bigger than you either way.

"Couldn't wait for us to finish with the orca, huh?" he chuckled, a grin full of sharp rows of teeth stretching from ear to ear. "We'd have come for you soon, tasty human. But it seems you had other plans."

"N-No," you stammered, pushing your free hand down your arm and intending to pry his off. Behind you, the splashing never stilled, meaning Nerrocan had no idea what was happening on your side. He wouldn't come to save you this time, too busy fighting for his own survival. Your plan had worked a little too well, it seemed. And now you were all on your own. 

"Get off me!" you screamed at the merman, shaking your arm and scratching him as hard as you could. He merely chuckled, only pulling you closer. 

"Why would I? I never let my catch get away. I wonder where I should start… I heard that those special things you use to stand are especially delicious~"

Licking his lips, you felt panic overtake you as you tried to tear your arm from his grip. Blood was dripping from your wound over his fingers, and the merman leaned down, basking in your horror as he licked it up. 

"Fucking delicious, humans are the best," he moaned ecstatically, moving his tongue up higher, directly to your arm for a better taste. Pulling back his lips, he revealed all those terrifying sharp teeth you feared, ready to chomp down, and you tried to stumble away, the sand giving way and making you fall on your ass. All you could do was look up at the merman, knowing what was going to happen, and there was nothing you could do.

He was about to sink his teeth into you when his pupils widened, an expression of shock washing over him. Without letting go of you, he looked over his shoulder, only to suddenly jerk away, hands flailing to grab you, trying to find hold on the island. You screamed in surprise but pulled your legs out of his reach in time, yanking your arm in the opposite direction as he was dragged back, his body disappearing into the depths. Breathing heavily, you jerked around, seeing only the calm ocean behind you. It was quiet.

Snapping your head back forward, the water had calmed on this side as well. You feared approaching it, feared to learn who might be lurking below if it wasn't Nerrocan. But scooting over on your butt, you dipped your foot into the water, only for you to notice the murkiness of it. "Blood…" you whispered, knowing the difference in looks from your studies. Even in the pure moonlight, the ocean's depth could not fool you. The water was turning red. It must have been a lot of blood. 

But nothing happened. 

It was mere seconds that passed, but it felt like an eternity of anxiety rushing through you. As if you had to relive all the fear and panic from the moment you found yourself stuck on the boat out on the ocean alone until now, in just these few seconds. You were alone again. Hopeless. Who could ever find you out here? So far away from the last place you had been seen, days later? Maybe they had already ceased their efforts to find you, and without Nerrocan to take you back to land, you were truly doomed this time. You didn't think Krill or Lyr would come for you, either. No one. This time, you'd not be granted a magical encounter to survive. 

"Nerro…" you whimpered, the panic forcing it out louder as you tried again. "Nerrocan!"

Calling out his name did nothing to free you of this fear. Of the knowledge of your possible demise. Ultimately, the thing that would kill you was what all the orcas had complained about for so long: your humanness. 

"Please… Please!" you sobbed, crawling over to the water's edge, the pain in your arm forgotten now that everything started to hurt. Desperation was raking its claws through you, tears spilling from your eyes as you stared down into the water, unable to see anything. See him. "Don't leave me," you cried, your vision growing blurry while your chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. 

"You promised!"

"I promised."

Hearing the tired but familiar and soothing rumble of Nerrocan's voice was like an angel choir singing down at you from above. He rose from the water as you couldn't contain your emotions, breaking out into more ugly sobs. Nerrocan wrapped an arm around your waist as you reached out your hands—clinging to his neck like the monkey you were—and not saying anything as he lifted you against his chest, pulling you up on the island with him. Not even his tail was left inside the water as he collapsed on the beach with you, holding you tightly against him. 

"You're wounded," you hiccuped into his chest, and he let out an exhausted sigh. 

"Give it some time. It'll heal."

Nodding into his skin, you didn't dare question him. You'd not be surprised if the mermaids had some kind of inhuman wound healing as well, and after all he did for you, who were you to disagree? Instead, more hot tears dripped from your eyes, Nerrocan's hand spreading over your back as he stroked his thumb up and down your spine. 

"It's okay, you're safe," he murmured, sounding like he was about to fall asleep. "I'm here."

Wrapping his other arm around your body as well, he turned both of you to the side, curling his tail upwards and around your back, shielding you even when you were out of the water. You ignored the tightness of his embrace, his strong, scratched and bitten arms holding on to you as if he felt the same desperation as you did. Crying out all of the anxiety and fear you had kept inside you, your body shook against him; you only noticed long after he fell asleep that his breathing calmed down, chest heaving only ever so slightly. The adrenaline that had pumped through your body had also worn you down, but you couldn't close your eyes, even when your vision was too blurry to see. Nerrocan needed this. He needed some rest. As long as you two could, at least. You were going to give him that. He fought for your damn lives and returned to you, protecting you even now. 

Sitting up, it was a struggle to get out of his embrace, Nerrocan's expression tensing when you moved away from him. You left his arms hanging around your hips as you against him, staring out onto the ocean, deciding to watch for more attackers while he rested. And Nerrocan adjusted his hold, curling his head forward until his face was buried in your side. You let him. Anything that would make him feel safe enough to rest. This time you'd protect him while he slept, even if you felt like passing out from all the stress you went through. 

The ocean was magnificent at night. Even with all the horror you experienced, it simply washed all the blood and violence away with a wave, moving on from it. You had no idea how you would ever move on from any of this. No amount of therapy would help to get over what happened to you, and you'd be forced to live with the knowledge of this journey for the rest of your life, unable to share it with anyone. No one would believe you. And suppose you ever managed to get out on the water again and overcome the traumatic experience. In that case, you'd never look at it the same, knowing what actually awaited you in the depths. Creatures that wanted to kill you. 

All except Nerrocan, it seemed.

Slipping your legs from under you, you curled into his arm, admiring his beautiful face. You scowled at the cut on his lip, furrowing your brows as you noticed it had already stopped bleeding and developed a scab. Leaning forward slightly, you observed intently as you realized you could watch it heal, the wound closing right before your eyes, turning into a small, light-colored scar. Amazed, you reached out, carefully tracing your fingertip over it, wondering how useful this could be for humanity if you could extract the healing properties from the mermaids.

But… what would that mean for them? 

It was a moral dilemma to think about the harsh treatments these creatures would undergo to be harvested for properties that might benefit humanity. How cruel it would be to catch and exploit them, even if it would be an amazing progress in medicine. 

But all these thoughts were forgotten as Nerrocan's eyes fluttered open, finding your hand on his lips, conveniently allowing him to nuzzle his face into your palm. "How are you feeling?" you giggled as he rubbed his face all over your hand and blew air into it playfully. 

"I'm good. A little stiff."

Uncurling his tail after his power nap, Nerrocan let it swing back into the water, immediately relieving tension. But instead of dunking his whole body into the soothing wet, he instead situated you close to him with a little space between you two as he rolled over, belly first into the sand, stretching that enormous body of his. His tail fin splashed in the water, and some of it landed on you, the mood turning relaxed and leisurely all of a sudden, making you laugh as you rubbed the water from your face. 

"Want me to massage you?" you joked, placing your way too small hands on his back and pressing down with all the weight of your body. To your surprise, Nerrocan groaned, breathing in deeply as you worked all your strength into his muscles. Who knew he'd enjoy massages? But with Nerrocan twisting his upper body towards you so you could reach every part of him, it truly seemed to be to his liking. 

However, with all the water splashing from his tail on top of him, it wasn't long until your palm accidentally slipped, the wound you had almost forgotten about grating against his body. You let out a pained hiss, pulling that limb against your chest as you tried to counter the sudden burn with deep breaths, but Nerrocan was up the second the sound left your mouth, reaching for your shoulders as you had hunched over.

"What's wrong?!" 

He sounded panicked, very different from how you usually knew him. You put on a brave smile, shaking your head. "It's alright! Just a little scratch, that's all!"

"A… scratch?" 

Suddenly, his voice changed from surprised to a growl, and you looked up to see only darkness coating his face. It was the same expression he had when he fought the other merman. The moment you unfurled, he slipped his hand down to the arm you were holding, prying it from you. Your wound was crusted from the salt, but the blood had stopped. It probably was never very deep to begin with, but it felt hot and agitated. 

"Did they do it?" Nerrocan asked, a threat not directed at you swinging from his growl.

"N-No," you quickly replied, suddenly feeling all the tension ticking in his muscles also spreading to you. "I did. I wanted to help you. I thought I could distract them…"

Nerrocan's arms wrapped around you faster than you could register them. He pulled you up on top of him as he sat on the island, and you stared at him wide-eyed in surprise. 

"Never," he hissed sternly. "Never do that again. For no one. I don't allow you to hurt yourself again, do you understand?"

"Y-Yes?" you replied, and he huffed out air before his eyes dropped back to your arm. Unwrapping one of his limbs from you, he gently picked up your hand in his, positioning you to lift the arm into the air and in front of his face. Completely unbothered by the salt, sweat, tears, blood, and sand, his tongue slipped out as his lips partially enveloped your wound, licking at it like an animal would to groom another. 

"Nerrocan!" you gasped, trying to pull your arm away, but he only needed to close his fingers around yours to keep it in place. 

"Let me…" he mumbled, kissing the spot he licked a few more times before moving on to the next one. "Let me take care of you."

Something about the way he said it made your cheeks heat up. Or maybe it was the kissing and licking, the gentle way he held you, or the fact he had saved you and was trying to help you in the best way he knew how. The way he seemed so devoted to a mere human annoyance like you, weak and only knowing how to hurt yourself to help him. But there was something strange about the way Nerrocan's care made you feel. Maybe it was the animal in him, or perhaps the way he purred gently, keeping you close to his chest so you'd feel it, too, soothing your whirlwind of emotions and making you lean into his embrace with no questions. 

"We can't stay here," Nerrocan mumbled as he lowered your arm to your lap. "We have to keep moving."

"Do we?" you sighed, suddenly overcome with all the exhaustion. As if his purr had tickled out your need to rest. "Can't we stay a little bit longer on land? I'm so tired…"

As if to emphasize your point, you yawned, ready to be dragged to your land of dreams. Nerrocan's purr intensified as he lifted his hand to brush over your head, gently caressing you as he scooped you up in his arms. "That's okay, sweet human. You can rest while we move. I'll hold you; make sure you stay afloat, I promise. But we can't stay. Others could notice the carnage and come for us again. You understand that, right?"

Heaving a long sigh, you nodded, resting your heavy head on Nerrocan's chest as he slipped into the water again, belly up and holding you in his arms. The water wasn't cold as long in his embrace, and you felt his lips press against your head, making you feel even calmer despite being enveloped by the ocean on all sides. There was no more pain in you anywhere, the water peaceful as Nerrocan drifted through it. No matter how inconvenient this position was for him, he made sure to bring you far away from this dreadful place and the danger lurking there before you'd wake up.

After that fiasco, you had little to no breaks on the rest of your journey. 

Nerrocan never rested, swimming day and night, only letting you out of his grasp when he needed to feed you or you needed to relieve yourself. By the time you woke up after the night's horror, the wound on your arm was gone completely. You didn't even have a scar left where it once was to remind you. Once again, Nerrocan had taken care of you, making you realize how lucky you were that he was there with you. 

Still, traveling through the water almost constantly was quite the challenge as you had expected. More than once, you had gotten seasick on his back, and even though you tried to hide your tears of exhaustion, you knew Nerrocan noticed, making you feel even more guilty. The only good thing was that, now that he was also swimming through the night, two days of travel was cut short into one and a half, and you were thankful for every minute you saved.

"Holy shit," you mumbled, gazing at the dark grey structure rising into the cliffside of a mountain. Part of you was overjoyed, seeing some actual land and human architecture after what felt like weeks away. But at the same time, you couldn't help but hesitate.

"Are you sure you want to come with me?" you asked Nerrocan, probably for the third time since you began this journey. "I don't… What if… You might be in danger if…"

Your stuttering anxiety didn't do much to persuade Nerrocan. "It's fine," he assured you, like all the times before. "I promised I'd get you there."

His amber eyes swayed over to you, his tense expression not lost on you. This is where they were tracked long ago, a place they fled from. If not for you, he would have never returned here, risked his life, and now his freedom. If anyone saw him, who knew what they'd try to do to him. 

"Nerrocan?" you asked, sinking to your knees on the small stone ledge he had sat you on. Reaching out, you touched his arm, Nerrocan turning all of his body towards you, fixing you with his eyes. "Thank you," you whispered, tears shooting back to your eyes. You always hoped to return 'home,' but the possibility had been so small at every moment of this journey. And still, he defied it all to get you to where you wanted. There were no words to describe your thankfulness to him, so you merely leaned down, bumping your forehead against his, Nerrocan pushing himself higher so you two could rub your faces against each other. It was his way of showing your feelings, and you hoped they'd translate well to him. 

There were mere inches between you two, your lips barely separated by a breath when you thought about if this would be inappropriate. But the moment you retreated from him, Nerrocan was there to catch the kiss, having gotten so much better at it after doing it so many times with you for underwater travel. You didn't feel like you were kissing a lover as much as a really good friend. A friend who you didn't know how to thank in a way he'd understand other than allowing this. But the kiss was fierce, breathtaking, hungry. Nerrocan nibbled on your lips, asking for entry, hot breaths mixing as he pushed himself up and further into you, his tongue rubbing over your blunt teeth before mingling with yours eagerly. Just as the kiss was getting way out of hand for mere friends, he jerked away, eyelids fluttering as he gathered his composure.

"Let's go," he rasped as he tore from the kiss, and you nodded, waiting for him to hold out his hands for you to sink into, knowing he'd carry you to safety now. You were breathing heavily, but you dove into his waiting embrace, back into the ocean that you had come to love and fear more over the last few days. There was no more time to lose to get you back on land, and you couldn't wait to get some proper food and drinks into you, and a good full-night sleep in a bed.

It was quiet, surprisingly so, the whole way to the facility. The open gates revealed private docks, but only one boat was stored there, seemingly empty as well. Nerrocan kept you in his arms, ready to get you out of harm's way. He still didn't harbor much trust in humans or perhaps just this place. You had expected some hustle and bustle inside such a large structure, but it seemed almost deserted, worry knotting your stomach. Looking to your right, you spotted a ladder leading out of the docking pool, and you pointed Nerrocan toward it. He was hesitant at first but carried you over despite growing tenser with every stroke of his tail. You stretched out your hand in anticipation towards the ladder, already flooded with feelings of freedom and peace.   

"Stop right there!"

A loud, commanding voice made you jolt. Nerrocan's arms reflexively wrapped around you as he squeezed you against his chest, creating a large distance from the docks with one huge stroke. You squirmed in his hold, unable to see what was going on as Nerrocan clasped his hand over your head protectively. Still, you could hear many footsteps suddenly trampling into the room and over the metal flooring. 

"Wai–! Wait!" you yelled, directed at everyone. "Wait, I'm human, and he's friendly!"

"Friendly?" someone scoffed, and you put your hypothetical foot down, slamming your hands into Nerrocan's chest and pushing him away, forcing him to let go. When force didn't help, you took a deep breath, slipping underwater and turning immediately, his hands finding you and dragging you back against him. Still, at least you were facing whoever it was you were talking to. 

Almost wishing you didn't.

You faced a row of guns, their barrels alternating between fixating on you and Nerrocan. If the merman knew what a gun was, it made sense he had shielded your head before. Still, all you could do was gulp, scanning over the people in full-black protection gear and masks, unable to say anything.

"Who do you work for?" someone from behind the guards asked, and you looked up at him, an older gentleman wearing a white lab coat, his expression grim. 

"What do you mean? I worked with a small research team studying currents but got forgotten at sea. You must have heard of me; it was probably all over the news! I just want to go home, I–"

"That's not a very original excuse. Who do you work for? Who told you to come here?"

Confused, you tried wrapping your head around the strange accusations of the man, not sure what he wanted to hear from you. "Please, I just want to go home! You have to believe me…"

Behind you, you felt Nerrocan tense as the clicking of guns resounded through the open space, the safety being taken off of them. "This is a private institution. No one is allowed to come here and leave. I'm afraid this also goes for you."

"What…?" you mumbled, watching as the guards aimed their guns anew. Instinctively, you drew back, feeling Nerrocan's chest against your body as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt the rumble of a growl build in Nerrocan's chest, and you didn't need to look to know he was baring his teeth while forcing you against him to take you out of the danger at any second if he had to. There was no way this was happening. You couldn't possibly be denied access to leave. Why wouldn't they help you?

"This must be a misunderstanding! I've traveled for three days to come here! Please just let me get through, so I can return home!"

Searching for help, you caught the gentleman's eye, pleading with him, and he squinted suddenly, slightly turning to another man standing by his side, whispering something to him. "Is he…?" the man asked, nodding his chin at Nerrocan. 

"He's…" you said, only to stop yourself, unsure what to say. He's a mermaid? He's an orca?

"He's special," you explained instead, twisting slightly to place your hand on his chest. "But he's not a bad guy, just a little protective. We've been through a lot. He won't hurt you if you don't hurt him, and he can understand you. We are not a threat."

A long silence, then more whispers. 

"Bonded," the other man at the side of the gentleman in a coat asked. "Are you bonded with him?"

There was even more confusion about the specificness of this question, which must have shown on your face as all the eyes turned upwards to Nerrocan, whose growl turned louder with the attention on him. 

"Well, tell us," the gentleman demanded, directing his questions at Nerrocan now. Compared to how afraid you had been when meeting the orcas, he seemed completely calm and collected despite Nerrocan's presence. Someone shimmied through the crowd of gathered people, handing the gentleman a tablet that he briefly glanced at, nodding. 

"What?" you mumbled. "Wait, what is going on?"

"What's going on is that now that you have come here, we cannot allow you to leave alive. This is not a place that you can pass through. People who come here, die here." There was a loud sound, and both you and Nerrocan jolted, twisting around to see the open space you had come through suddenly get closed off by a gate.

"Your survival depends on how useful you are to this facility. We have a use for the big guy, but we aren't sure if you have a place in all of this."

"Nerrocan," you whispered, staring at the closing gate and ignoring the guy who was talking. "You have to leave. Now. Go!"

You tried pushing him away, signaling to him to swim out. There was still a lot you didn't understand, but closing off the escape could lead to what you had feared might happen if the merman got discovered. 

"No…" he growled his body tense, but for some reason, he didn't panic. "I'll handle this," he added, turning around to face the people before you.

"No! No, you have to go! They'll do bad things to you, please! Nerrocan, listen to me!"

Instead of listening, Nerrocan pushed forward, bringing you both closer to them, gun barrels aligning perfectly with his head. 

"No! No, no, no!"

Panicked, you twisted around as well, holding your breath as you thought about what to do. You knew you couldn't leave this up to Nerrocan; he might get himself killed if his instincts told him to fight! Eying the ladder to your right, it was almost close enough to grab now. If you dived under and swam to it, you could run for it, distracting them and finding a way out of this false haven. You were good on your feet, you could probably keep them at bay, and Nerrocan could escape in time for the gate to close completely. He was strong and fast without you as extra baggage to carry around.

But maybe this was all just a big understanding. Perhaps you should have just explained it better. This couldn't be all there was to it.

You needed to do something. Quickly.