#and even if they WERE in this pretend argument

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Prologue

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?)

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Azriel had always liked Starfall. 

Even he could enjoy one night a year where they danced and were merry…where they pretended that everything was just fine. 

Just that this year…he couldn’t quite manage it. 

Feyre had invited Lucien. 

A year after that catastrophic Winter Solstice. 

And for the very first time, Elain…Elain seemed not just willing but genuinely happy to converse with her mate.

*Keep away from her,* Rhys had repeated his order that morning, making it very clear what he wanted his spymaster to do. And Azriel…well, he had acquiesced. 

Of course, he did. 

Nobody had even noticed when he had slipped away…Nobody had wanted to notice. Why should they? They were all content...they were all happy.

Mor's mating bond with Emerie had snapped just weeks before and that had...everybody was so very pleased for her.

*You are not going to ruin this for Mor,* Rhys had snapped into his mind. *She has been through enough.*

Azriel wasn't going to ruin it. 

So he pretended that everything was normal. And then he disappeared silently, and launched himself off the balcony and went flying. He didn't need to think when he did that. Even the shadows kept silent.

The night sky was a velvety black, speckled with countless glittering stars. 

Azriel loved to fly, loved the rush of the wind buffeting his body, the exhilarating feeling of power and freedom. He soared high into the sky, basking in the cool breeze on his face.

At least he had this .

As a child it was all he had wanted. And now...now it was...now it was seemingly the one thing that gave him something close to peace. The last few green sparkling streaks on the sky...Skyfall was nearly over, once again.

He basked in it for a little while. Until he felt the scratch of Rhys' mental claws against his walls.

*Azriel,* Rhys' voice was harsh, sharp, demanding. *Where are you?*

* Out. * Azriel answered simply. * Flying. *

*Come back,* Rhys ordered with a sigh. *Look, I get it. You are angry at me.*

Azriel didn't even bother answering to that, swooping lower and then pushing higher again, revelling in the cold night air.

*Elain and Lucien are figuring things out,* Rhys continued.

* Good for them, * Azriel replied, his tone still bland. * Is there anything else? *

Rhys let out an exasperated breath.

*Azriel...I am sorry,* his brother apologised. *Be angry at me all you like. This would have only ended in heartbreak for you anyway.*

*That should have been my decision to make,* Azriel's voice was cold, curt, brooking no argument.

Rhys sighed. *Not if the political ramifications could have upset an already strained peace,* Rhys snapped. *Be reasonable, Azriel.*

* Are you done? * he asked Rhys drily.

*Azriel... * Rhys' voice was exasperated. *Fine. Be angry with me, if it makes you feel better,* his brother snorted. *If you want to throw a tantrum like a child, be my guest.*

Azriel gritted his teeth. This was not a tantrum. *Great. Thanks.* he shot back at Rhys nonetheless.

*Elain is happy, Azriel,* Rhys said softly. *And you should be happy for her.*

* Fine, * he said, voice toneless. * I am happy for her. What else do you want from me, Rhys? *

*For you to stop sulking,* Rhys replied. *And to come back to the Party.*

*No,* Azriel said simply, making another loop in the sky, feeling the wind rushing past him.

*Azriel,* Rhys growled, his temper shortening. I mean it. 

*I think I'll go to that pleasure hall near the harbour instead,* Azriel said, his voice cold. * After all, if I want to fuck somebody, I should go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, right? *

*Azriel!* his brother snapped, clearly irritated. *That is enough.*

* What? I am just following your orders, High Lord, * Azriel gave back icily.

*You sound like a petulant child.* Rhys snapped.

* Go back to your party, * Azriel said drily. * I'll be just fine. *

Rhys let out a huffing breath. *Fine. Go and pout some more.*

Azriel ignored his brother, closing the connection and feeling his walls snap back into place.He would pout some more. Thank you very much.

Azriel flew higher, ignoring the party, ignoring everything. He pushed his wings faster, harder, revelling in the wind, in the silence, in the stars above him.

The only sound he could hear was his heartbeat, pulsing in his ears, matching the beating of his wings as he flew. He flew and flew and flew, until his muscles ached, until his wings felt heavy.

It was nice. He liked it. He loved it, in fact.

There was a reason he loved flying so much. It was freedom, it was a rush, but most of all it was quiet.

He did go back to the House of Wind…even when he had no plans to go back to that party. He would go to his room and pout some more. Maybe write some more reports.

Do whatever the High Lord expected the Spymaster to do. 

He landed one one of the many, many balconies, recognising the Priestesses’ herb garden with a start. 

"Spymaster."

Azriel froze for a heartbeat, closing his eyes, cursing mentally. He had wanted to come back unnoticed, to slip in silently. But apparently he wasn’t the lucky. 

One of the Priestesses was sitting on the balcony’s ledge. He wasn’t scared that she was going to jup, simply because the balconies were spelled to prevent exactly that. 

Sitting there, wrapped in a thick knitted blanket, with dark brown hair reached her waist was Irena. 

Clotho’s right hand. The one in charge of seemingly all the paperwork that involved the library. All the bureaucracy went over Irena’s desk, all the accounts and acquisitions… 

She was the daughter of one merchant of the midlands, married off to another richer merchant as soon as she had been barely old enough. 

Azriel had met her for the first time two centuries ago. There had been a string of disappearances of young girls in the surrounding areas and his shadows had very quickly found the culprit. 

Azriel had killed her husband…before he could kill Irena. Her husband had had a taste for violence…his young, beautiful wife had been one of his long-suffering victims. 

Azriel had brought her to the library. He hadn’t really thought that she would bloom here as she had…hadn’t thought that a girl raised with a silver spoon in her mouth would be content with in the library. But she was. 

And Irena turned out to be one of those scarily efficient people that could do the job of three people. In two hundred years, she had actually managed to make the House of Wind cost Rhys nearly nothing in upkeep anymore. Thanks to the gardens of the priestesses that kept them in fruits and vegetables and herbs…some of them sold to the vendors in Velaris, some turned into creams and potions in the stillroom, that were also sold…the library was just one thing the priestesses did. Some preferred the stillroom or the gardens or even needle work, knitted sweaters that were handed out to the needy in Velaris.

She had done that. Had bloomed and flourished here. 

"Irena," he finally brought out, his voice hoarse.

She turned to face him for the first time. She had just grown more beautiful over the years…with long dark hair and dark doe eyes sat in a delicate face. 

But all of that didn’t matter anymore. The moment their eyes met...suddenly everything changed.

His priorities were rearranged. All he cared about anymore was her. Was the priestess wrapped in her wool blanket sitting on that balcony ledge…

Irena. 

She was his mate .

" Oh ," she breathed, her brown doe eyes widening near comically large.

Azriel just stared at her, feeling as though even the world had stopped breathing.

His mate .

His mate was sitting in front of him. 

Irena .

Irena was his mate.

"Azriel," she whispered,  her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.

 They just stared at each other for a long, long time. He stepped closer to her, wanting to touch her, wanting to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers, her soft lips against his. He wanted to pull her close...he wanted...

But Azriel didn't reach out. he didn't want to scare her. Didn't want to corner her. So he simply leant next to the railing a little bit away from her, still staring at her. "I..." he stuttered, trying to come up with he perfect sentence to tell his mate.

"I...I didn't expect that," Irena whispered.

"Me neither," Azriel said quietly, still slightly breathless, the information slowly sinking in.

"But it's not... unwelcome ?" Irena offered next.

"Absolutely not," Azriel said immediately. "I mean..." he said. She looked so small, sitting there on the ledge, wrapped into her blanket. One delicate shoulder poked out of it, only covered by white, near translucent cotton. She must only be wearing her nightdress, he realised suddenly. 

She looked…so young right at that moment. 

"Are you okay?" he asked her quietly, still staring at her, a soft, tender feeling spreading through him.

His . She was his .

Irena closed her eyes with a heavy breath, before nodding hesitantly. "I just....this was..." she said slowly, not daring to look at him. "It was unexpected."

"For both of us," Azriel said quietly, trying to read her expression. Was it...was she happy? Was she upset ?

She nodded, and then bit her lip. "I..." she started and his eyes lingered at that small, plump lip of hers, wishing that he would be the one biting it.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly and he instantly snapped his eyes back up to her face. "Sorry?" he echoed, frowning, because...what was she apologizing for?

"I mean," she continued, her dark brows knitting together as she bit her lip. Oh dear god, Azriel had never wanted to be a lip so much in his life. "I... I don't think I'm what you were expecting ."

Azriel took a breath, ready to assure her that he was positively delighted at the prospect of her being his mate but the words didn't quite leave his lips because...

"Are you dissappointed?" he managed, his hands clenching around the railing. He was scared what her answer would be.

She finally looked at him. Looked into his eyes and Azriel felt the world slow down for a moment, felt his throat tighten as she searched his expression, searching for something.

Whatever she was searching for, she seemed to find it though because she let out a sigh of relief, her lips quirking into a small, self-depreciating smile. "No," she said honestly. Azriel's breath caught at the Genuity on her face. "No, I'm not. But I...I don't know what...if I can ever give you..." Irena said weakly.

He shook his head. "We have time," Azriel promised her fiercely. All the time. They could figure this out at their own pace.

"Time," Irena echoed softly, looking towards the vast, twinkling night sky, the stars reflected in her eyes.

She looked back at him for a moment, and he could see an almost helpless expression in her eyes.

 "I...I don't want to disappoint you,” she said quietly. 

"You couldn’t," Azriel whispered, still staring at her, at the beautiful face of his mate. "Believe me, you never could disappoint me."

She gave him the tiniest smile. She didn't believe him, he knew that. Regardless of how ridiculous it was. She deserved more than him. More than scarred and battered and broken warrior.

"I will never...I will never force you," he promised her softly. "I will never..."

She nodded, but Azriel still saw something like relief flash over her face.

It broke his heart. "You are a good male," she whispered.

"No. I am not," Azriel immediately disagreed, because he knew he wasn't. He couldn't even begin to name all the things he had done, all the horrors he had committed. 

He had killed her husband. That was just one of the things on his long, long list. “You deserve better than me,” he said weakly. 

"You are my mate," Irena murmured softly. "There is nothing better."

"I...have...killed people," he protested. Killed her husband too. though he did think that that male deserved it.

"You did," she agreed. "You are a warrior. A protector. You were the one that saved me" she said quietly.

Irena took a deep breath, and then, slowly, reached out, touching his scarred fingers, running small, delicate fingertips over the back of his hands, and Azriel froze, completely still, hardly able to breath as she slowly traced the scars on his skin.

Her touch was light, but searing, making his skin tingle.

He slowly turned his hand, catching her fingers between his, squeezing gently as he intertwined their hands.

"I will never force you. I will never lay a finger on you. Whatever we do in the future, is your decision," he swore. 

She stared up at him, the stars reflected in her eyes, her cheeks a faint pink.

Beautiful . Azriel thought, mesmerized and completely enraptured.

"I believe you," she whispered and Azriel's breath caught.

From her...that had been hurt so much...to hear that...it was...

"I will protect you," Azriel promised fiercely and her breath hitched as he lifted her hand, carefully, gently pressing his lips to the tips of her fingers. "I will protect you with my life."

She smiled at him then, a real smile, and Azriel felt as though his heart might stop. He had thought her beautiful before, but now, with her face illuminated in all its delicate beauty by the starry night sky...she was breathtaking .

"I...I will need some time to adjust," Irena said softly. Azriel just nodded dumbly, still a little star struck by her smile. "I...I haven't..." Irena said and she turned her head, looking out into the night sky, her hand still in his.

She hesitated, clearly struggling for words, and Azriel felt his heart seize up in his chest. Had he overwhelmed her? Had he pressured her?

"I haven't been with anyone in a long time." she admitted quietly. Irena didn't look at him, but Azriel was still looking at her, taking in her soft, almost angelic features, the slight blush on her cheeks.

He swallowed."I understand," Azriel whispered, and he did. He understood her hesitation, her uncertainty. And he would be patient...he would wait for as long as she needed.

"But...if you wanted to...you know where to find me," she said softly.

Azriel felt as though he was dreaming. He had found his mate, his beautiful, incredible mate, and she had welcomed him, wanted him even, and

Breathe .  He told himself as he tried to calm the hammering of his heart. Breathe .

And slowly, carefully, he nodded, his fingers still interlaced with hers. "I will come to you," he said, his voice husky. "Whenever you want me too."

She was...a gift. A gift he didn't deserve but would treasure always.

Slowly...and so, so very carefully, Azriel stepped closer to her, still holding her hand, before lowering himself slowly down to sit next to her on the ledge. And this close he could sense just how much smaller she was than him, could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell her scent.

Poppies and something sweet and warm like…apple blossoms maybe?

Azriel wanted...gods, he wanted to kiss her.

But he didn't. He just held her hand, trying to memorize every small detail of hers. The curve of her cheek, the soft blush on her skin, her nose, the full lips.... The tiny flecks of gold in her eyes that reflected the stars above them.

She was breathtakingly beautiful

For a moment Azriel forgot where there were, forgot the cold air around them. For a moment there were only the two of them on this ledge, beneath the stars and a soft night sky. And it was...he felt peaceful .

It wasn't a feeling he had a lot. But here, on the ledge, his hand in hers, he felt at peace. And when Irena slowly rested her head on his shoulder, Azriel could feel nothing but utter contentment.

His heart swelled with affection for her, and he carefully rested his cheek against her head, taking a deep breath.

This was real. She was his mate.

She was truly, truly his.

His .

And nobody knew. Nobody had a clue. He could keep her all to himself.

And selfishly...that felt really good.

Nobody was going to have an opinion about them. Nobody needed to know now.

He wanted to keep her a secret. Gods, he wanted to.

She let out a soft, content sigh, her head still resting on his shoulder, and Azriel smiled to himself.

Notes:

If you liked this fic, then kudos, comments or constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!

[holylulusworld]

Indifferent (6)

Summary: Your father wanted a bond between you and the Barnes Empire. No matter what.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Characters: Captain Syverson

Warnings: arranged marriage, angst, arguments, mafia au, strong reader, jealousy, language, mentions of domestic violence/slight violence against Bucky  

Catch up here: Indifferent (5)

Indifferent Masterlist

He drags you along the hallways, growling insults at Thor, who has already left the mansion. Bucky is seething and cannot contain his anger any longer.

Bringing a man to his home was a mistake you won’t make again. You crossed a line, and fear, Thor, will pay the price one day.

“I swear, if you do not let go of me, I’ll call my father. I’ll file for divorce and tell everyone that the reason was domestic violence.” You kick Bucky and slap him to break out of his iron grip. “They all were right. The worst thing you can do is to stay married to the wrong person!”

“You are the wrong person, not me,” Bucky yells and pushes you inside the bedroom you used to share. “Maybe you enchanted my mother, but I can see right through you. You’re nothing but a slut whoring her way around town while pretending to be underfucked.”

“You fucking asshole!” You slap his face hard. Gasping, you look at the angry handprint you left on his cheek. He doesn’t seem to mind. Bucky guides you toward the bed, smirking when you start to squirm harder in his hold. “Let me go!”

“From now on, you’ll sleep here. You won’t leave the house without me, and you won’t talk to my mother unless I’m around.”

You purse your lips and hold his gaze. “Make me, Barnes. Come on. Hurt me, leave bruises or a split lip. Do you think getting slapped by your mother and me hurts? Do you want my father to get his hands on you?”

Bucky leans closer to brush his nose over your cheek. He chuckles before whispering in your ear, “Your father permitted me to bend you to my will. I told him about your mishap with your masseur and that you refuse to give me an heir.”

You narrow your eyes. “Wow, you stooped so low? Really?” You shake your head. “Whenever I believe you could be a better man than you’d like to admit, you prove me wrong.” You chuckle humorlessly. “Did you tell Daddy that you refused to consummate our marriage? Did you tell him that you despise the thought of touching me?”

“I hate everything about you.” You flinch at his words. Even though you wanted to ignore his hurtful words, you felt an aching in your chest. You swallow thickly but stubbornly hold his gaze.

“Good,” you reply. “Then there will be no misunderstandings. I hate you too. There’s nothing lovable about you, either.”

“You’ll play by my rules from now on—no more meeting up with my mother. No more Thor putting his hands on my wife. No more talking back.”

You smirk darkly. “If you and Daddy get along so well, why don’t you both fuck yourselves, or each other?” Remembering the moves your bodyguard taught you, you jump into action.

The last thing Bucky expects is that you headbutt him. He drops his hands from your arms and back paddles.

“Fuck you!” He blocks your punch but doesn’t see the kick to his balls coming.

Bucky doesn’t know what hits him until he holds, once again, his crotch. He whines and watches you sidestep him. You spit onto the ground, next to him, openly disrespecting him.

“As long as you do not respect me,” you growl, “you won’t get shit in return. Go and make more plans with my father. You are both dead to me.”

You walk away with your head held high. Bucky Barnes won’t break you, and neither will your father. If they both want to fuck you over, you’ll pay them the hard way.

The next morning, your plan stands. This is your life, and you won’t waste more time on a man hurting and ignoring you all the time.

No more trying to get along with your husband.

No more playing the obedient daughter.

Your father wants to side with your husband, so be it. You’re not going to take shit from them any longer.

If you are going to go down, you will go down swinging.

Your bags are already packed, and your former bodyguard helped you carry them out of the mansion. He won’t leave your side and make sure you’re safe.

“You sure about this, sugar?” He dips his head to glance at you standing next to him. Sy is still a giant next to you. “I can still shoot his brain out.”

“My father would kill you,” you softly reply.

“I’m a freelancer now.” He shrugs. “And I’m not afraid of your old man, sugar. Tell me to break that bastard’s neck, and he’s gone. I know how to let a man disappear.”

You chuckle. Sy always had the power to make you laugh when you want to cry. “No. I only wanted someone around to keep him from stopping me from leaving.”

“If he dares to put his hands on you, I’ll break his neck.” Sy puts his hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing.

“Let’s just go. I placed the signed divorce papers on his desk. There’s nothing left to say but… fuck you…”

While Sy guides you out of the mansion, looking left and right at Bucky’s men, you feel hope for the first time since you married Bucky.

Tags in reblog.

[soaked4mk]

Wade Wilson Boyfriend HeadCanons

👽:slowly but surely getting back into my writing 💅🏼 (not proof read just super horny like a clown 🤡 HONKAH HONKAH)

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SFW ♥️

★ Wade is a silly guy. So silly in fact, he’ll crack jokes or shoot a sarcastic comment your way—mid argument. “How am I supposed to listen when you look this good right now?” Fear not! Because he knows when to shut up. (When you tell him to)

★ Bro defo has a Roblox account. Not elaborating.

★ Despite his chaotic and reckless behavior, Wade is actually super protective and would go to extreme lengths to keep you safe. And then some. “Hey! Back off! Don’t you fuck with her! Unless you wanna fuck with me too. In that case we’ll need a sit down discussion for—“ “WADE!” “Right—sorry.”

★ Expect big, wild romantic gestures. Like standing outside your window while holding up a boom box. (playing ‘what you won’t do for love’ by Bobby Caldwell) or (attempting at) writing your name with fireworks. (There were definitely ‘unexpected’ explosions)

★ “I know it’s only Tuesday, but I totally, legally rented a helicopter so we can pretend we’re in the aveng—no? Okay…plan B then: Breakfast in bed with (penis) questionable pancakes.”

★ Cuddle bug Wade. Are we surprised? This man lives off of physical touch and affection. Wrapping you up in his arms, not letting you go with a shit eating grin. “Nope, you’re not leaving this couch. We’re practicing the ancient art of Wade Wrapping, which requires at least three hours of cuddles, just sayin.”

★ He is nonstop teasing you. It’s a hobby for him, really. (And his love language) Coming up with silly nicknames for you, challenging you to random games or chores, he’s not below making fun of himself to see you smile either.

★ “Oh-ho? You think you can wipe the track with me in Mario kart? That’s cute.” “Honey—you look fine. Approachable even. Unlike me…” (he says while laying limbless on the bed. Literally….)

★ Uses his dark humor to comfort you in times of ‘what the actual fuck?’ Knowing how to turn even the bleakest of moments into something a little lighter. “Hey, I know life might suck granny tits right now…but at least we’re not in a rom-com where one of us has to die or something worse for the other to grow emotionally, right?”

★ Unwaveringly supportive of you in any conflict. He is going to take your side. Every. Single. Time. Backing you up even if he has literally no idea what’s going on or why. “You said Rick was out of line at work today? Well guess who’s getting a strongly worded letter in the form of interpretive dance in the parking lot?” “Is it Ri—“ “it’s Rick.”

★ Wade loves experimenting in the kitchen with you! Attempting to make meals that sometimes end up in hilarious disasters, followed up by a take out order.

★ He breaks this…’fourth wall’ sometimes. Like looking off into the distance and talking to an invisible audience or camera while addressing you. This dead ass bewilders you at times. But mostly you roll your eyes at his antics.

★ “Can you believe this shit?” He’ll ask, turning to an imaginary audience. “I’m over here being the perfect boyfriend—funny, handsome, protective, all that—and you guys still think Peter Parker is the ‘Ideal Boyfriend’ pffft. Get real.” *turns back to you* “anyway, where were we?”

★ This overgrown man child is a PDA enthusiast. Unashamed of hugging, kissing, or trying to dip you during a playful dance in public. He doesn’t care, he’s proud to be with you and wants everyone to know it. “You know what this sidewalk needs? A spontaneous make out session”

★ One hundred percent would insist on wearing matching or theme outfits. Whether it’s full on costumes or something little like matching socks. “Ta-Da! Matching Taco Cat shirts—no, no. Don’t fight it. This is how we show the world we’re a team. Through peak fashion choices.”

★ Loves movie nights. They’re full of commentary, with your boyfriend narrating or making fun of the movie plots. He’d insist on watching rom-coms or action movies for sure.

★ You’ll receive unconventional love letters in the form of doodles, short jokes, or notes saying “I love you more than The Golden Girls. And that’s saying something. ;)”

★ Wade is a pretty chill dude. He’s not overboard with jealousy. But that won’t stop the man from making his classic (not so jokey) jokes when he feels like someone might be getting too close to you. “Oh, flirting? With you? Cute. Should I go over there and casually mention that I’m the love of your life and also really good with sharp objects?”

★ Beneath all the jokes and chaos, he has moments of genuine, heartfelt affection. Whispering his love and gratitude for you at unexpected times. “I know I never take shit for real. But I’m serious about you, about us. You’re my safe space, the one part of my life that makes sense on this stupid chunk of rock floating in space.”

★ Remembers odd little details about you. Showing it with unexpected gifts that align perfectly with your interests. (Even if they’re a bit off beat.) “I saw this super limited edition action figure of (favorite character). I had to get it for you—don’t ask me how, just say thank you and let’s run—“

★ Randomly belting out terrible renditions of love songs at the top of his lungs, just to get a laugh from you.

★ Acts tough for your amusement, like he’ll pretend to be all macho around your friends to make you laugh. “Yeah babe, I’m like, indestructible. Just gotta…” *struggles to open a jar of pickles* “wait—hold on. This jar is definitely cheating…”

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NSFW 🍆💦

★ Wade love love LOVESSS making you watch while playing with your pussy. Using his mouth, fingers and all kinds of cute little toys.

★ Tying your hands together, behind your back and sitting you in front of the mirror with your legs spread wide as he slowly circles your clit with a bullet vibrator, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You see how fucking wet you are for me, baby?” “Look. At. This~” “did I say to look away? Didn’t think so…”

★ He’s into all kinds of crazy shit—high key an exhibitionist.

★ Fucking you in a theatre bathroom, pressing you up against the stall while he covers your mouth, dipping the head of his cock teasingly into your aching cunt.

★ “I don’t give one shit if someone hears us, I need you. Now.” “Shhh baby, gotta stay quiet if you wanna cum.” “Stay still now…”

★ Eating you out in the back of the car, hands kneading your plush thighs while looking up at you with that knowing, shit-eating grin. Not even bothering to wipe you from his chin.

★ Struggling to keep your eyes on the man, a red flush taking over your face as the vibrations of his groans send shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

★ Fingering you under the table/using a remote control vibrator on you when you’re out having dinner. “Yeah that’s it for me and uh, what about you babe?” He asks nonchalantly, as if he weren’t bumping the bullet to its highest intensity or running his fingers over your panty clad pussy. All the tasty stuff. It’s the thrill of almost being caught for him.

★ Baby girl also LOVES when you take control. Straddling him, tying him up to the bed, slapping his face. He’s fucking into it.

★ F-fuckk~ wan—wanna touch you so bad~” he whimpers, hips bucking involuntarily while you ride him, bouncing in his lap with your hands on his shoulders and his cuffed. “Mmff—need to cum…please, please—I’ll do whatever you wa—aaah, fffuck!”

★ Wade loves to buy you new toys/lingerie sets all the time! He’ll come through the door with a bag full of new things to try out or on. “Oh, come on—put the bunny ears on…I’ll let you do that one thing you like.”

★ Costumes, dressing up, role play. Cops and robbers, Professor and student, Master and pet. He loves that shit and has a lot of fun with it.

★ “You have the right to remain silent, on your knees, now.” He’ll smirk, cuffing your hands behind your back, trailing a finger down your cheek before fucking your face. “Cock hungry bitch, aren’t ya? Such a good girl…” he croons, pulling at your leash.

★ “You call that begging, honey? Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to be louder than that if you want me to fuck you silly.” He teases, sending a sharp smack to your ass while prodding at your slick pussy with his shaft, making you arch and whine out for him.

★ If you’re into it, he has no issue with knife/gun play. “How does it feel…?” he purrs into your ear, slowly sliding the cold metal up your stomach, circling your belly button before trailing up your chest, then collarbone, pressing the blade/barrel to your throat/temple. “Scary? Hot? Scary-Hot?”

★ Loves making you squirt, finger fucking you into oblivion, thumb pressed against your clit until you can’t take anymore. “Fuck yeah, baby.” He pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and cleaning them with a simple ‘pop’.

★ “Mhhh…” Wade hums in delight before shoving the same fingers into your mouth—pushing past your teeth, forcing you to taste yourself with a groan “You’re so yummy, don’t you think?”

★ If you’re being a brat, expect proper punishment. “Oooh, talking back to me, huh?” He’ll ask, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep eye contact. “Watch that damn mouth of yours, pretty bitch. And keep riding me—I didn’t say stop.”

★ He’ll make you grind your hips until you’re sore. It’s so fucking good it hurts. “Awww, my poor baby…look at you crying and riding. You must be exhausted, hmm?” Wade grunts, bouncing you on top his lap as if you were a rag doll. His cock slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot—never missing a beat. “Keep going—be a good girl and keep going…”

★ Once you’re both a spent, panting, boneless mess beside each other, he’ll shower you with praise and pepper your face with kisses, combing your unkempt hair with his fingers as he caresses your arm.

★ Wade would set up a diy spa in the bathroom for you. Complete with cucumber slices, a glass of wine (or whatever you want) and a bath that’s wayyy too bubbly. He’d try and give you a foot massage while joking “Only the royal treatment for my queen. Minus the actual royalty…those guys were more fucked up than half of Alabama…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

👽:I wanna be SAVED Deadpool PLEASEEEE SLUT ME OUTTTT

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #6448:

There's this one guy who mostly posts in Japanese and I don't know why but a lot of the English speaking fandom keeps saying that they're pretending to be Japanese even though they never said they were. They just post in Japanese. Their Japanese followers don't really care because it's a languange? that? anyone? can? learn? This is very amusing to me as a non-native English speaker. Am I pretending to be white because I mostly post in English and engage in the English side of the fandom? To be honest, if I could speak Japanese, I would want to engage with the Japanese side more because it's a lot bigger and therefore has a lot more fanworks and their reading comprehension isn't dogshit and doesn't lead to the same 3 arguments every week.

[inotakumagf]

the beast at the heart of the world

✶ gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count ✺ 1.7K

summary ✺ you’ve had a shadow following you since you were a kid. one day, it tries to hurt you.

warning ✺ kind of creepy descriptions of a cursed spirit, but it’s not super gory or anything like that. also i never usually enjoy instant love, but reader and gojo are very touch-starved, so it kinda goes from 0 to 100 real fast oops. reblogs & comments r very appreciated <3

You started seeing the creature when you were seven years old.

He’s never spoken to you, but he’s always watching. At least, you think it’s a he. The creature has pale, rubbery skin with pointed ears and a towering figure. The way he stares at you reminds you of how your father does, and the comparison causes panic to burst against your seams. 

The first time you notice him, you’re playing with your dolls in your bedroom. You focus on the story you’re telling with your Barbies, trying to ignore the way your parents scream at each other in the kitchen. You have this suffocating desire to make them stop, even if that means hurting them. You don’t want to—you know you’d never—but you can’t shake the overwhelming anger brewing inside of you. 

When you finally look up, your heart drops at the sight of sharp, glistening teeth peeking out from your closet. The only thing visible in the shadows is the curling grin of a beast, and it feels like a twisted promise to rip you apart. You notice its red, beady eyes next, and you whimper when you realize it’s looking right at you. The creature’s grin widens.

You scream for your mother to save you, hands clamping over your eyes as you sob. At least your parents’ argument stops as your mother comes to see what’s wrong. When you point out the creature to your mother and explain the situation, she throws open your closet door, to your absolute horror. But her smile doesn’t change as she steps to the side and motions to the closet, the monster still staring at you with its full attention. You cry when you realize she can’t see the creature. Its gaze burns into you as she reassures you that there’s nothing to worry about, even as the creature drools over her shoulder. 

You learn two things that day: one, no one else besides you can see this creature. And two, it follows you. Everywhere. 

You don’t know why, but he never, ever takes his eyes off of you. And he never stops smiling. You have to ignore him every second of your life after that, pretending that he doesn’t tower over you and terrify you beyond comprehension. No matter how many years it’s been since you first saw him, your heart and body freeze every time you look over your shoulder and see the imposing figure of your monster. Truly, it could be worse. He’s never touched you before, he’s never put you or anyone else in physical danger. He just stands a short distance behind you, and he stares. But the anticipation is so overwhelming that it may kill you before he does. You often cry yourself to sleep, hoping that he will just go away. Why can’t he go away?

Sometimes, he stands so close that you think he’ll swallow you whole. You know he thinks of it, because his large mouth is wide open as he peers down at you, letting his saliva drip over you. After all these years, it’s still nearly impossible not to sob in fear or flinch away from him, especially when you’re in public. It's so debilitating, and it turns something as simple as ordering coffee at a cafe into a dreadful process. 

Like now, you try to order your drink, stumbling over your words as you do your best to ignore the creature standing beside you. Your voice cracks and you freeze as the monster drops its head onto your shoulder. You can feel its clammy skin against yours, and there’s a slight scratch as brittle hair brushes against you. A sob bubbles in your chest as the creature licks a trail up your face with its long tongue.

“I–can I…?” You can’t finish your sentence, too busy trying not to scrunch your eyes closed at the feeling of his slimy, purple tongue dragging all over you. He’s never touched you before, and you don’t know why he has now. Maybe his insatiable hunger has gotten the best of him. 

You make a strange noise in the back of your throat. The barista in front of you rolls his eyes at the state of you. You can’t really blame him, because you know how you must look.

“Are you gonna order?” He asks impatiently.

You clench your fists and try to at least breathe in and out. “I–”

The bell to the front door jingles as someone pushes the door open quickly. You and the barista turn to the man that has entered the cafe. He has snow white hair and a dark pair of glasses that he pushes up the bridge of his nose. You can see how his chest rises and falls quickly, as if he’d just run a marathon. He swipes his gaze across the room before meeting your eyes. Your eyes widen when he locks his eyes with yours. 

“Are you ordering or not?” The barista’s annoyed voice brings you back to reality.

An apology is on the tip of your tongue, but the man who’d just stepped inside comes over with a grin on his face. 

“Sweetheart! Sorry to make you wait, I couldn’t find my card.” He stands besides you, laying a careful hand on your shoulder. He pouts at the barista. “I didn’t mean to make you guys wait, we’ll order now. What was it that you said you wanted to try, honey?”

You startle when you realize he’s talking to you. You stumble through your order. The mystery man orders after you do, handing the barista his card to pay and making small talk. Your drinks are made fast, and you can’t blame the barista for wanting to be rid of you as soon as possible.

You don’t know what you’re expecting, but it’s not the stranger keeping an arm over your shoulder as you leave. He doesn’t let go after you walk out of the shop, or even when you’ve traveled a block away. Your heart stutters in fear as you try to think of a way to escape his grip. 

But then he whispers into your ear, “Do you want me to handle this thing for you? It’s awfully close, don’t you agree?”

It takes you too long to realize he’s talking about your monster. Your monster that no one should be able to see. “You can see it too? I thought I was crazy.”

He grins. “You still might be, that’s not for me to decide. This special grade curse looks like it’s been brewing for a while. You poor thing, you can’t get rid of it, can you?”

You blink. “What? Special grade what?”

He ignores you, rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder in comfort. “How long has it been bothering you?”

“Since I was seven.”

For the first time, he looks surprised. “That long, huh? Let me take care of it, sweet pea. You won’t have to suffer much longer.”

You feel a rush of wind at your side and the stranger’s warmth disappears. It feels like you blink, and the creature turns to dust. Just like that, almost twenty years’ worth of suffocation is gone. The constant, overwhelming pressure against your skin is gone. The man appears at your side once more. 

It’s such a relief, and it's almost embarrassing how quickly you deflate against this man. He holds you to his side gently, running his hand against your back as you sob into his neck. You should have more shame, but you can’t bring yourself to care at all. 

You mutter your gratitude into his skin, and you can feel him shudder against your lips.

He lets out a shaky breath before grinning at you. “How ‘bout I walk you home? So I can make sure none of these curses bother you anymore, sweetheart.”

You’re flustered, stumbling over your reply before giving him a, “O-okay. Thank you.”

He lets out something between a sigh and a laugh. “Of course, honey.”

You can’t handle it. This man is a stranger, but he’s so…friendly. Thanks to your monster—your curse—you’ve never allowed yourself to be close to anyone in fear that the creature would snap and have its way. And though it’s hard to break away from your habit of fear, this man’s presence calms your fast-paced heart. He makes you feel safe. 

Once you’ve arrived at your apartment, you feel disappointment brew in your chest. “This is my place,” you mumble. “Thank you for helping me. For the first time in my life I feel…light.”

He smiles at you. “Can I give you my number? In case a curse like this ever bothers you again. All you have to do is call and I’ll be there for you.”

You agree easily, because you want to see him again, even if it’s in a less than ideal circumstance. You pass your phone to him, peering over his shoulder as he types his name into your phone. He pauses his typing to smile over at you, and it makes you flustered enough to turn away.

He laughs. “Aw, sorry, sugarplum. Didn’t mean to embarrass you. Could I get a name to match that pretty face of yours?”

You tell him your name, only considering a moment later that you probably shouldn’t give your name out to a stranger so easily. But you feel comfortable around him, and you find yourself trusting—you glance down at the contact name he’d set for himself—Satoru. You trust Satoru.

You turn to go inside your apartment building, but Satoru calls your name and you turn back, a look of concern flickering over your face.

He rubs his hand against the back of his neck. He looks almost…shy? “You can use my number, uh, even if there’s no curse. Do whatever you want with it, actually. I’m always available to talk. If you have questions about all of this, of course.”

The furrow in your brow eases and you smile and thank him again. You wave your phone in the air briefly. “I’m sure I’ll find something useful to do with this.”

And before you head back inside your apartment, you glance behind you almost instinctively. But there’s no more monster to worry about. The only thing behind you is your strange savior. You promise yourself that you’ll take him up on his offer, as many times as he’ll have you.

[notiddygothgf]

15. An Affair

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I'm not going home with you. ❞

★ c.w.: domestic violence, confessions (bad ones)

★ a/n: HEY GUYSSSS!! its my day off today and instead of studying I wanted to put somethin' out for my girlies. im ngl, this chapter was so hard to write, but the ending was so worth it. Y'all are gonna have such a love/hate relationship w me after this. Anyway! I hope yall enjoy! Keep those wonderful comments coming! I hope you have all been well. If not, I hope this chapter cheers you up (it prob. wont.)

★ w.c: .5.8k

shameless ; chapter index

PUBLIC SAFETY ALERT:|  Your presence has been requested at Public Safety Tokyo HQ. A mission is being assigned to you.

Seen

The morning air hung thick around the quiet school grounds, carrying a chill that made your skin prickle. Each step forward felt measured, heavy, as you walked alongside your husband, the space between you humming with unspoken tension. He walked with his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze darting toward you now and then, searching for an opening to break the silence. But you kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead, determined to keep this quiet, to push down the remnants of last night’s argument until you could forget it entirely. Or at least pretend to.

Finally, he spoke, voice soft and wary. “About last night…” He trailed off, pausing to clear his throat as if that might help the words come more easily. “I didn’t mean for things to… go that way. I was just worried. I shouldn’t have…” He let out a short, strained breath, his gaze fixed on the ground.

The apology hung in the air between you, awkward, unfinished, and you felt it tug at something inside you—a part of you that almost wanted to forgive him. Almost.

But the way he’d looked at you, the words he’d said, were still fresh, lingering like a bruise that hadn’t fully healed. A quiet, distrustful part of him had surfaced last night, and even though he seemed sorry now, that part of him was still there, waiting.

You swallowed, keeping your voice steady, measured. “Can we just… do this job?” Your words were a plea wrapped in exhaustion, and you could feel his shoulders slump, the small fight in him deflating in one slow exhale.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Sure.”

The building finally came into view, its pale brick walls rising against the sky like an empty, blank stare. Division 4 waited by the entrance, their expressions serious, their stances taut with quiet anticipation. Aki stood slightly off to the side, his posture rigid, arms folded, his gaze fixed on the school’s shadowed entrance. And even in the cool, gray light, you found him instantly, drawn to that familiar, unshakable steadiness.

You caught his eye, and for a fleeting moment, the tension in your chest eased, his gaze steadying you like an anchor. There was a question in his eyes, something soft and understanding, though it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He held your gaze just a beat too long, as if reluctant to let it go, and you felt a quiet understanding settle between you.

“Good morning!” Himeno’s voice sliced through the tension, her warm smile easing the air around you all as she approached. She waved, the familiar glow in her eyes brightening her face. “Glad to see you’re here.”

Your husband shifted beside you, his face flickering with something unreadable as his eyes lingered on Aki before he turned to Himeno, offering her a small nod. Then, as if reminding himself of his role, he extended a hand toward Aki, his expression carefully neutral, voice formal. “Captain Hayakawa.”

Aki’s gaze drifted to the offered handshake, his expression barely shifting. There was a flicker of something—disdain, perhaps, or maybe just indifference. He didn’t bother to hide it. Instead, he straightened, his face a mask of calm detachment as he looked toward the group. 

“Let’s head in,” he said smoothly, his tone level, almost too controlled. His eyes flicked back to you and your husband, impassive. “You’re late.”

Himeno’s gaze flickered from you to Aki, a faint smile tugging at her lips, as if she could read the silent tension, though she chose not to comment. She was sharp that way, perceptive to the smallest changes, though she kept her observations to herself, a quiet ally in the awkwardness.

He’s so hot when he plays captain.

Your husband’s hand dropped back to his side, his face momentarily tightening before he carefully masked it, his expression becoming a careful blankness. He took a step back, composing himself as he fell into line behind you, saying nothing.

Aki kept his gaze forward, ignoring the unspoken friction that lingered in the air, his posture steady, unbothered. But you could sense the tension simmering just beneath the surface, in the slight shift of his shoulders, in the way he held his jaw just a bit too tight.

As the group began moving toward the building, you found yourself drawn beside Aki, his presence a steadying force that you clung to, even as you kept a careful distance. The two of you fell into step, shoulders almost brushing, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him despite the cold around you. He kept his eyes forward, his expression giving nothing away, but the quiet understanding between you both was enough.

Your husband walked behind you now, his steps deliberate, and though he said nothing, you could feel the weight of his gaze flickering between you and Aki. There was a guardedness in his posture, a watchfulness that lingered in the space between you all, like he was waiting for something to confirm whatever suspicions still lingered in his mind.

The school loomed closer, its windows dark, reflecting the dull gray sky back at you, and as you approached, a strange, unsettling stillness settled over the group. The building seemed to watch you all with an empty, silent gaze, as if daring you to step inside, to disturb whatever lay waiting in its shadows.

The building swallowed you up the moment you stepped inside, closing in around the group like a mouth with bated breath. Aki’s flashlight flicked on, cutting through the darkness in a narrow beam that skimmed over half-open lockers and scattered shoes left behind in haste. Stray papers littered the ground, pages from abandoned notebooks catching the flashlight’s glow, rustling softly with each step, as if stirred to life by your passing.

You stayed close to Aki, moving at his side, careful not to draw too near but finding comfort in his steady, unwavering pace. Beside him, you could let your own unease simmer beneath the surface, half-hidden, masked by his calm. Every now and then, he shifted the flashlight to scan further down the hall, his expression as unreadable as ever, and yet, in the quiet, a tension simmered. He was prepared, senses sharpened; you knew by the way his shoulder brushed yours in the narrow passage, felt by the slightest tightening of his grip on the flashlight.

Behind you, your husband walked a few steps back, his silence no less present. He didn’t have to say anything for you to feel the way he observed, his eyes moving between you and Aki with a cautious deliberation. The weight of his gaze lingered on the spaces between you, where he seemed to search for something neither spoken nor visible, yet unmistakable.

The halls echoed with your footfalls and the quiet hum of distant lights that hadn’t yet died out completely. The building had the eerie feel of a place left suddenly, like whoever had been here had simply vanished mid-motion. The lockers were open, contents strewn about as if someone had been in too much of a rush to close them properly. Shoes and scattered backpacks lined the floor, small details that added an unsettling familiarity to the strangeness around you. It felt like walking through a memory someone had tried to erase.

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Himeno whispered, her voice breaking through the quiet like the flutter of a bird’s wings. She kept close to Denji, her eyes darting around, and he gave a tight grin, though his shoulders were wound tense, his hand twitching at his side.

Aki didn’t respond, just kept his eyes forward, his flashlight sweeping the walls and floor as he led you through the darkened hallways. The silence settled back over the group, thickening as you continued deeper into the building. You reached the cafeteria, its entrance looming before you like the mouth of a cavern. Aki stepped over a fallen backpack just inside, his flashlight catching on the glint of scattered utensils and trays, and Denji followed close behind, moving with a quiet intensity that belied his usual carelessness. He lingered near the doorway, casting a quick glance at Aki before slipping further inside, putting a bit of distance between them as though seeking his own sense of direction, away from Aki’s unspoken authority.

You stepped in as well, your heart beating faster as the room stretched before you in a dim, empty sprawl. Anxiety simmered in your chest, the stillness of the place pressing down harder with each step. It was as if something waited just beyond the edges of the flashlight’s reach, lurking in the corners, lying in wait. You forced yourself to take a steady breath, though the question lingered, unsettling in its quiet persistence: Why hadn’t anything happened yet?

Then, Aki’s voice, low but clear, cut through the quiet. “Do you hear that?”

You stopped, tilting your head to listen. “What?” you whispered, your eyes scanning the dim shadows around you.

“There’s a… ticking sound,” he replied, his brow furrowing as he tilted the flashlight upward, his gaze following the beam to scan the high, shadowed ceiling.

Himeno stepped forward, moving cautiously, her eyes narrowing as she glanced around the room. “I don’t see anything,” she murmured, her tone wavering.

Aki’s attention sharpened, and he moved deeper into the room, his flashlight focusing on the rows of overturned tables and chairs, like soldiers abandoned mid-march. He stopped in front of an industrial oven, the source of the faint ticking that had drawn his attention. He bent down, inspecting it closely before he turned back to you all, his voice tense. “Stand back,” he ordered, gesturing for everyone to move away as he prepared to open it.

The group took a few steps back, a collective breath held as Aki swung the oven door open. The flashlight revealed only empty racks and dust, nothing to suggest any real danger, and yet the ticking persisted, faint but insistent.

Aki straightened, glancing back toward you all with a small shake of his head. “Nothing in there.”

The moment he spoke, a low rumble began, a tremor that sent vibrations through the floor. You looked to him, worry blooming as he took a step backward, his attention still on the others as if to reassure you all—but before he could say a word, the wall behind him burst open with a deafening crack.

Dust and debris exploded into the air, and Aki was thrown forward, his body slammed by a wave of rubble that crashed over him. He fell hard, hitting the ground as chunks of concrete and metal scattered around him. You staggered back, your breath catching as the sound of the explosion reverberated in your ears, muffling everything but the thundering of your own heartbeat.

Your ears were ringing, your head was throbbing, yet all you could think was – Aki.

The moment you saw him lying there, still and silent, everything around you faded into a muted blur. A distant voice, your husband’s, drifted from behind you, sounding strained and far away. 

“I’m here,” he called out, steady but cautious, like he was trying to anchor you, but it barely registered. 

The sight of Aki’s limp body, his chest unmoving, was all you could see. You moved past everyone—blind to the dust, the debris, and even the sharp sting in your own side—your legs carrying you to him without thought.

“Aki!” The shout tore from your throat before you could stop it, raw with a panic you couldn’t hold back. You rushed forward, your hands trembling as you stumbled over the debris, your focus locked on Aki’s crumpled form amid the settling dust – professional names be damned.

Dropping to your knees beside him, you reached out, cradling his head in your lap, your hands trembling as you gently lifted his face toward yours. Your fingers found their way to his cheeks, then to his brow, tracing the slight furrow still etched into it, as though he had fought to stay conscious even until the last moment. He was still warm, but his skin was too pale. It was as if the entire world had come to a halt around you. Somewhere behind, you could sense the others standing in stunned silence, unmoving. How could they just stand there, watching? The love of your life could be slipping away, and they were frozen.

Love of my life…

The thought stopped you cold, a rush of fear and realization so profound it almost hurt. Had it really taken you that long to realize it?

“He’s alive,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, so quiet you could hardly recognize it as your own.

From the corner of your eye, you saw your husband watching, his face tense but unreadable, taking in the scene with a look of guarded apprehension. He didn’t say anything, though you felt his gaze linger as you checked Aki’s pulse, letting yourself believe, even if for a moment, that everything might be okay.

Himeno limped toward you, her face pale and streaked with dust, though her eyes were focused. Denji hovered nearby, his gaze shifting nervously between Aki and the rest of the room, his usual bravado strangely absent.

A slow, mocking laugh echoed through the darkness, slicing through the tension. The sound sent a chill down your spine, and Himeno’s gaze snapped toward the source, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “Shit. He’s here,” she muttered, glancing down at you. “You’re bleeding.”

You blinked, looking down at your side, only just noticing the thick patch of blood soaking through your shirt. A sharp pain throbbed beneath your ribs, and you inhaled unsteadily, trying to keep your focus. You had been so concerned with Aki, you hadn’t noticed that a stray piece of metal from the inside of the wall had embedded itself into your side.

“He’s barely breathing,” you said, fighting to keep your voice steady. “We have to call for help.”

Your ears were ringing, the edges of the room swimming slightly as adrenaline surged and ebbed in rapid waves. Himeno looked at you, her expression torn, her face bruised and her breathing labored. But then she nodded, her decision clear. “Call for help,” she instructed firmly. “You stay with him and keep checking his pulse until they arrive. The rest of you,” she turned to Denji and your husband, “are coming with me. Let’s put this bastard down.”

Nodding, you reached for Aki’s walkie-talkie, your fingers slipping slightly as you clutched the radio and pressed the call button. Your voice cracked as you spoke. “This is… this is urgent. Aki’s down. He’s unconscious, barely breathing. He’s bleeding out—we need immediate backup.”

The rest of the group slipped away – Your husband cast you one final glance before following suit, leaving you and your lover alone with nothing but the deafening silence to accompany you.

The silence that followed felt endless, punctuated only by the faint static from the walkie-talkie and Aki’s faint, irregular breaths. You swallowed, trying to keep your focus even as your hands began to shake.

“Stay with me, Aki,” you whispered, brushing a lock of hair from his face, your fingers lingering on his cheek, willing him to open his eyes, to just look at you. But he remained still, each shallow breath a reminder of how close you had come to losing him.

Fifteen minutes later—though it felt like hours—help arrived. Three officers rushed in, their faces taut with concern as they took in the scene. One of them, a man you vaguely recognized, gave you a solemn nod before crouching down beside you, reaching for Aki. His hands were gentle, but the thought of someone else touching him, moving him, felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

“We’ve got him now,” he said quietly, but when he reached out to lift Aki, a desperate surge of protectiveness made you tighten your hold.

“No—” The word left your lips before you could stop it, raw and laced with panic. But they gently pried him from your arms, and the separation felt like a wound opening wide, a visceral ache that made it hard to breathe.

You clutched your bleeding side, your vision blurring as you tried to steady yourself. A thick, aching pain throbbed in your chest as you watched them begin to lift him, every instinct screaming to stay by his side. You had to follow. You had to make sure he would be okay.

“Aiko,” one of the officers said, his voice firm yet gentle, nodding toward the door. “Take them outside.”

He moved beside Aki, lifting him carefully, and without another word, he threw one of Aki’s arms over his shoulder, giving you a brief, determined glance. “Come on. Grab his other side.”

Wordlessly, you nodded, stepping forward and slipping your arm around Aki’s waist, bracing him as you lifted his other arm over your shoulder. The weight of him pressed against you, grounding you, and you forced yourself to keep moving, even as every step felt like a jagged edge digging deeper into your side.

With each step toward the exit, the fresh air grew closer, yet the world felt hazy, every breath heavy with worry and the knowledge that nothing would ever feel certain until he opened his eyes again.

As you moved to lean over, easing Aki into the seat beside you, a sharp, searing pain suddenly tore up your side, fierce enough to make you gasp. Your hand slipped, and you nearly dropped him, his weight sagging as you stumbled back, struggling to catch your breath. It took everything you had to hold steady, to keep your balance, gritting your teeth as you fought to ignore the blooming heat spreading across your ribs.

Aiko, his face furrowing with concern, caught sight of the blood soaking through your shirt. “Shit, are you bleeding?” he asked, eyes widening as he looked from you to the deep red stain.

The pain was settling into something fierce and relentless, throbbing with each shallow breath you took. You nodded, barely able to speak through the tightness in your chest, feeling the sting pulse along every nerve.

Without hesitation, Aiko steadied Aki, shifting his weight to settle him securely into the back seat of the car. Then he turned to you, his tone calm but firm as he took in your paling face and shaking hands. “We’re taking you to the hospital too. Both of you,” he said, cutting off any protest before you could muster one. “Get in the car. Other side.”

The finality in his voice made it clear there was no room for argument, and even if you wanted to push back, your strength was dwindling. You bit down against the pain, making your way around to the other side, sliding in opposite Aki. The weight of the seat seemed to press into your side, aggravating the wound as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You glanced over at Aki, his face still pale, breaths shallow as he lay slumped against the seat.

As the car started up, you shifted carefully, reaching over to lay his head in your lap. The feel of him there—fragile, the warmth of his skin faint against your touch—steadied you. Your fingers brushed over his hair, gentle and soothing, a small comfort as you tried to hold back the trembling in your hands.

Aiko turned to the driver. “Take them both straight to the hospital, now.”

The engine rumbled to life, and the car jolted forward, pulling you away from the scene, the night blurring past as the streetlights flickered over you in a stream of dim light. You adjusted yourself slowly, angling your body to support Aki’s head in your lap without disturbing your wound, even as the pain persisted, gnawing with every bump and turn. But you didn’t care; all that mattered was keeping him close, reassuring yourself with each faint breath he took, each barely-there rise and fall of his chest.

You focused on his face, his closed eyes and furrowed brows, his features softened in unconsciousness, untouched by his usual sharpness and guarded restraint. It was almost peaceful—if not for the bruises beginning to form along his cheek, the small streaks of blood that marred his skin. You reached up, wiping away a smudge of dust from his forehead, the simple act anchoring you to the moment, grounding you in the steady silence of the drive.

The pain in your side was starting to numb, fading into a distant ache as the adrenaline dulled your senses. But the reality of it all—the weight of what had happened, the fear that had gripped you—settled heavily over you like a thick fog, refusing to lift. You leaned back, eyes never leaving Aki’s face, your hand resting gently on his shoulder as the car carried you both toward the hospital, away from the shadows of that place.

In the quiet, with the hum of the engine and the soft darkness around you, it was just the two of you, a fragile peace holding steady as you waited for help, the tension of the night still lingering but softened by the small, steady assurance of his presence in your lap, the nauseating fear as you whispered again, 

“Stay with me, Aki.”

The moment you had been cleared to leave the hospital some three or four hours later, you found out what room Aki was staying in and rushed right over. There he was – stable, albeit not in very good shape. He was still asleep (which the attending nurse had said something about earlier, something along the lines of a medically-induced sleep). His skin was a little more colorful now, but still pale. He was donning the same hospital gown you had been wearing a few hours earlier, hair down out of it’s typical style and splayed out over the pillow. His vitals were being monitored on a screen on the other side of his hospital bed – an IV dripped syrupy-looking medicine into his veins.

He was achingly beautiful, even now. You stood off to the side of his bed, arms crossed nervously over your chest, fingers being chewed by your teeth. You didn’t know how long you had been waiting there – hell, you hadn’t even checked your phone since you had been discharged.

A pit in your stomach made it impossible to eat, even if you had certainly worked up quite the appetite. You didn’t want to leave his bedside, even for a moment. Any moment, he could slip away – slip through your fingertips and leave you for good (even if the doctors told you he was stable).

You stood at Aki’s bedside, rooted in place, the room spinning slowly around you as the weight of your own feelings sank in, cold and unstoppable. You’d been forced to confront it back there in the rubble, but now, with him lying so still before you, there was no denying it. Aki was the love of your life. 

The realization hit you again like a wave crashing over your head, pulling you under. He was it—the person you’d been circling, moving toward all this time without even knowing it. And if you lost him, you didn’t know how you’d survive it. The thought alone was enough to make the air feel thin, the walls closing in as you struggled to catch a full breath.

Aki looked almost serene under the fluorescent hospital lights, his face softened and bare, no longer hidden behind his usual quiet guard. His hair lay messily across the pillow, spilling across his forehead, casting delicate shadows over his cheeks. He looked painfully beautiful, achingly real in a way that left you feeling raw, vulnerable. And you knew then that you had been clinging to him, maybe all along, without even realizing it. There was something in his presence that grounded you, something you couldn’t name, but now that you had it, you didn’t know how you’d live without it. Without him.

A hollow ache twisted in your stomach, and you crossed your arms tightly over your chest, as if you could keep yourself from unraveling entirely. What if you’d lost him before you ever had the chance to tell him—before he knew what he meant to you? The thought stabbed at you, fierce and unrelenting. You tried to imagine a world where he wasn’t here, where he’d slipped away in those moments of silence and chaos, and the thought alone felt like stepping into an endless void, cold and unforgiving. 

What would you do if he left, if he was gone? How would you wake up each morning knowing he wasn’t there, wasn’t just a few steps away, grounding you in the only way he knew how—without even trying?

You swallowed hard, biting down against the well of emotions, feeling the sting of it all build in your throat. Your fingers trembled, itching to reach out, to grasp his hand, to feel the pulse of life beneath his skin. But you couldn’t bear it—couldn’t bear to feel the fragility of him, couldn’t stand the thought of his warmth fading, of his presence slipping away from you forever.

It was the one thing you couldn’t lose. Not him. 

And as you stood there, heart pounding, head spinning, you swore that if he woke up, you’d find a way to make him understand that—how much he meant to you, how deeply he had become a part of you. How he was the only one who ever truly had loved you.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts. Without waiting for an answer, the door slid open, and in stepped Tanimoto, brown eyes somber like he knew he was the last person you wanted to see.

You looked at him, and suddenly, your mouth ran dry. What more was there to say? One look into his eyes, and you knew there was no need to clarify.

He understood, now. Everything.

He cleared his throat, “Hey.”

“Hey,” You said back, voice hoarse from all of the crying you had done before he came, from shouting Aki’s name the moment that wall blew up. “How’d the mission go?”

It was then that you realized – you couldn’t possibly have been less concerned with his well being on the mission since he had left you there with Aki in your arms, too preoccupied with the state of your lover to care.

“It went alright,” He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t dare to move any closer, standing a considerable distance away from you, like he wasn’t sure whether or not approaching you would be the best idea. “It wound up being the school lunch devil, or some shit like that. A real small fry, but he wound up having a piece of the gun devil’s flesh. That would explain the…” He glanced over at Captain Hayakawa’s sleeping form, wincing at his condition, “Explosion.”

There was a pause. A long, drawn out silence, during which neither of you made eye contact. Your husband was the first one to breach it.

“Look, I was going to apologize about what I said last night, but… after today– after what I saw back there, I… I’ve been thinking of what I’d say to you,” He finally – finally – approached the elephant in the room, avoiding your gaze the entire time (not that it left Aki). He paused again to release a trembling breath. “Am I… mistaken? About you and him?”

Your eyes began to water before you knew it. It was as if everything from the past few hours – past few days had finally come crashing down on you. In one heart-aching moment, the world you had spent all of your time building up – the lies, all of it – came to a standstill. 

And it was then that you realized you didn’t have the strength to lie to him anymore. Not when the love of your life was sitting right there.

So you swallowed the lump in your throat, taking a moment to build up the icy resolve you desperately needed before you answered slowly.

 “No. You’re not mistaken,” You breathed. “I’m his mistress. I’m having an affair.”

And there it was.

The words hung in the air, heavy and irreversible, cutting through the sterile quiet of the hospital room. You could see the impact ripple across his face, a flicker of pain breaking through his carefully maintained calm before he composed himself again, pressing his tongue into his cheek as he nodded, slow and mechanical. The look in his eyes sharpened, darkening to something you could hardly recognize, and a tremor of fear crawled up your spine.

You had expected this moment to feel like some kind of release, like pulling off a bandage and letting the wound breathe. But as you looked at him, at the silent fury and restrained hurt carved into his features, a different kind of fear settled over you—one that made your body tense, instinctively bracing for whatever he might do next.

You couldn’t stop the shaking. It started in your hands, then moved through your shoulders, until your whole body felt unsteady, as if it could collapse under the weight of what you’d just admitted. The question pressed itself into your mind, unbidden: would he hit you? Here, in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space with Aki lying beside you? It felt like a violation, the idea of violence in a place that was supposed to be safe, where people came to heal. But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it wasn’t impossible.

To your shock, though, he didn’t raise a hand. He only let out a slow, exhausted breath, his shoulders slumping, as though the anger was something that would consume him from within rather than burst out. "I knew it," he muttered, his voice tight and shaking. He swallowed hard, but there was no break, no moment of hesitation as he spoke again. “I knew it from the start, but I thought—” He cut himself off, staring at you with that cold, assessing gaze that felt like he was searching for any sign of regret, any hint that you cared about what this was doing to him. “You don’t even sound the least bit sorry about it, do you?”

There it was—a blow sharper than any slap or strike, his words digging in deep, meant to hurt. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came, just a hollow, empty ache that left you frozen. Because the truth was, no matter how you tried to twist it, he was right. You weren’t sorry. Not about loving Aki, not about the way you felt when you looked at him, even lying in a hospital bed, his face softened and beautiful in the stark light.

“I’m not. I don’t regret it,” You retorted, a little bolder, now that the cat was finally out of the bag. What more was there to lose? Straightening your shoulders, you added, “We’re in love.”

He glanced at Aki. A cold, humorless laugh left his lips. When he glanced back at you, there wasn’t even an ounce of affection for you – all that was left was hatred, the same hatred you felt for him.

Before you could part your lips to speak again, he was craning his hand back – then there was a familiar sting.

He had hit you. Again.

And the worst part was that you couldn’t even bring yourself to oppose it. A moment of sickening silence passed before he spoke again.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He spoke calmly, calculatedly, but you could hear the anger that seeped through his words. “This will be the last time you see him. You are to never speak of him again, or of this, and in exchange, I’ll let you keep the money and the house… and your life back at home.”

You swallowed, refusing to let him see the full extent of the hurt. It was nothing you hadn’t weathered before. And besides, the pain only sharpened the resolve forming inside you, stealing something that had felt soft, uncertain before. You weren’t backing down this time.

He watched you with an icy expression, something gleaming in his eyes that made you feel small, like a child being reprimanded, caught out in a lie you could barely understand. You gnawed the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your eyes stung. He’d hit you, yes, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest, the hollowed-out feeling that had grown deeper with each beat of this tense, bitter silence.

His voice was sharp as he leaned in, his words clipped and venomous. “You can see him this one final time, and then it’s over,” he sneered. “That’s what you wanted, right? To see him?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and without thinking, you shot back, “Yes, but not to say goodbye.”

He stilled, his expression darkening, mouth twisting into something half incredulous, half enraged. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

But you’d started now, and there was no way to take it back. The words spilled out, gathering momentum as you spoke, voice steadying with each syllable. “Yes,” you repeated, stronger this time, voice firm. “But not to say goodbye.”

He looked at you like you were unhinged, something unfamiliar and unfathomable to him, and his lip curled with distaste. “You’re insane,” he spat, barely keeping his voice in check. “You’re hopeless. You’re married. It’s time to wake up and go home.”

The word married twisted inside you, feeling more like a chain than a bond, something cold and suffocating. And in that instant, as he spat the word out, you knew there was no future left here, no home in this hollow arrangement he was calling marriage.

And then, you dropped the second bomb of the evening.

“I’m not going home with you.” Your voice was quiet but clear, the words like iron. You felt something break free within you, some final tether to the life you’d been clinging to.

“I want a divorce.”

a/n: MUAHHHHHAHAHAAA!! OH MY GODDDD. it feels so good to finally write those words, you guys have NO idea. sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger, tho, you know i couldn't resist. To think that hours and hours and hours of my time have been poured into reaching THIS moment. Omg. We're reaching the climax of the story! Please let me know what you guys want to see happen before the story ends in the comments, or just drop by and say hello. I hope yall are as hyped for the next chapter as i am. Will y/n stand her ground? Or will she pussy out? Who knows (I do)? Stay tuned!!! Q of the Day: have you heard Rauw Alejandro's new album? (If not, what are you doing?)

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[darkfalcone]

Puppy

Pairing: Dark!Sofia Falcone x Reader

Warnings: Noncon, Non-Consensual Stress Reliever (???), Manipulation, Dissociation, Crying, Mommy Kink, Face Slapping, Pussy Spanking, Spanking, Mocking, Mean!Sofia, Pet Names, Fingering, Spit Kink, Degradation, Branding, Begging.

Summary: Sofia’s stressed and she wants to hurt you, but knows she needs to keep you semi-calm.

A/N: ohhh this is fucked up, but I couldn’t help it | based on this ask

You had known Sofia for a few months before she had asked you on a date. Of course, you said yes and since then, the two of you had been dating. That was ten years ago and although she was in Arkham, you stuck by her side. You made sure to visit her once a week and when you could, you sometimes went twice a week. Despite everything, you thought your relationship was going great. That was until she got out of Arkham and she had found out that her brother was dead.

Sofia took over her family business and invited you to live with her. As soon as you said yes, she had her men drive her to your shitty apartment to pick up you and your stuff. You were a little taken aback by how fast she wanted you to move in, not giving you a chance to allow you to get things ready for your move. You didn’t think anything of it, instead, pushing your concerns away to be as excited as she was. You sat in the backseat of the last car that had pulled up that Sofia was in, even though you tried to tell her that you’ll help them move things into the cars, she wouldn’t allow you to. When you finally dropped the argument, Sofia placed her hand on your thigh before getting closer so she could kiss on your neck. You flinched as one of her men walked by, ultimately pushing Sofia off you.

“What?” She frowned. “Do you not want me to touch you?”

You shook your head, “N-No! I do, it’s just… not… here…”

Sofia took her hand off your thigh, turning to look out the window. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, unsure of what to do or even say. By the time her men finished getting all of your stuff out of your apartment, it was dark out and she still hadn’t said a word to you since you denied her. The feeling of her pretending that you weren’t there was beginning to make you antsy and you hated it.

The drive to her mansion was going to be a long and awkward one and it took everything in you to not reach out and touch her. This was all so much for you - she had just gotten out of Arkham, found out her brother died, and invited you to live with her. All in a span of a day and the more you thought about it, the more you felt bad with the way you reacted to her. You hadn’t been intimate with her in ten years and she just missed physically touching you. You couldn’t blame her though, you missed touching her too.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I just get really shy.”

Sofia huffed and you wished you could see her face. “I understand, but things are different now. If I want to touch you in front of my men I will, it’s been ten long years and we have so much to catch up on. Understood?” She questioned.

”I-“ you swallowed.

The words got stuck in your throat as she placed her hand back on your thigh.

“You?” She pushed, moving her hand up your thigh slowly. “It’s an hour ride, are you going to give me what I want or is our first night together in ten years going to be me fucking someone else in the other rooom while you sit in our bedroom?”

Your eyes widen at her words, surprised at this sudden attitude of hers. You’re hurt and you weren’t sure of what to say to it, but without a word, you pull your pants down as well as your underwear. You feel your face heat up at the thought of her driver knowing what Sofia was about to do to you.

Sofia got closer to you and instantly her mouth was back on your neck, sucking gently on the skin. “That’s a good girl, already knowing your place.” She whispered, slipping her hand into your underwear.

You squeezed your eyes shut - biting your lip as her cold fingers rubbed your clit. Sofia bit your neck again, but this time sucking on the skin harder than before, she rubbed you harder.

“I don’t want you holding back the noises you’re making for me just because others can hear you.” she snapped, pinching your clit hard.

”Ow!” you cried out. “Please Sofia, it hurts!”

Sofia finally stopped pinching you, chuckling as the both of you heard her driver groan. You tried to close your legs but Sofia bit down on your neck, a warning for you to stop that. When she pulled away, she spat on your face before pulling her fingers out just as her phone began to ring. She let out a sigh before picking up the phone and answering it.

Even in the dark and with her not saying anything, you could tell whoever was talking was annoying her. You wiped her spit off your face just before she placed her hand on your thigh. You stayed quiet as she began to talk, unsure of what she was saying as all you could focus on was your heart pounding.

“Well,” Sofia groaned. “I’ll be having a meeting with Oz in the morning.”

“What time?” her driver asked.

Sofia dug her nails into your thigh as hard as she could, causing you to cry out. You tried to pull her hand off your thigh, but she was stronger than you.

“Ten in the mornin’.” Sofia said. “That means our first night together will just be us sleeping because you need to be up as well.”

“Wait- why do I have to be up if this is your meeting?” you complained.

Sofia hummed quietly, taking her hand off your thigh. Although she was frustrated and annoyed, she couldn’t help but smile at the attitude she had come to love. It’s a shame, really. Sofia was going to break you and you were clueless, but that’s what was going to be the best part about it.

The rest of the ride, Sofia held your hand, rubbing the back of it with her thumb gently. Her men took your stuff in and she led you into the mansion and up the stairs to her bedroom. You gave her a kiss, thankful that the loving girlfriend you’ve had for years was out and with you in her home.

“I have some towels in the bathroom if you’d like to take a shower tonight, I have a lot of shower gels and things you would like.” Sofia informed you. You nodded, making your way towards the bathroom - stopping yourself when you realized you had no clean clothes upstairs with you.

“I uh… my clothes are in boxes…” you began, earning a small smile from Sofia.

”Ah, yes.” Sofia got up from her spot on the edge of the bed. “Let me go get you some of your stuff, you can shower now and they’ll be out on our bed when you get down.”

Our.

You smiled at that, rushing to give her a kiss before heading into the bathroom. Although she had been gone for ten years for a crime she didn’t commit, it felt as if the two of you had never been apart.

You took a rather long shower, enjoying the hot water without having to change the settings every few minutes. You were definitely going to get used to it. After you were done, you turned off the shower and got out. You were quick to dry yourself off and to your surprise, Sofia was putting all your clothes in drawers you had assumed to be ones she cleaned out just for you.

“Th- Thank you, you didn’t have to do that for me.” You said, grabbing the clothes off the bed. You got dressed, sitting down on the bed as you watched Sofia put more of your stuff away.

”Oh but I do,” Sofia said, focusing on putting your stuff away. “You stuck by my side this whole time when you could have easily left.”

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty. You hated having her spend so much on you, especially when this was only her second day out of Arkham. You loved her so much and all you really wanted was to spend time with her to make up for the times she couldn’t hold you or just be around you.

”After my meeting with Oz, I think it would be fun if I take you to the store and you can get whatever you want.” Sofia suggested, changing the subject.

“I- you don’t have to do that, I promise.” You said, but she glared at you.

”Will you stop doing that? You and I haven’t been able to do anything together since we started dating and if I want to spoil you, I will.” She snapped.

”I’m sorry,” you began. “I don’t… I just feel bad, plus, I’ve got work at ten in the morning…”

“At that grocery store that you hate so much? Absolutely not, you’re going to call and quit before my meeting. You won’t be needing a job, not when I’m out and able to take care of you.” Sofia stated, but you sighed.

She was right - you hated your job so much, but it paid your bills and it gave you something to do. Sofia could take care of you but you wanted to still work, having been there for a full five years now, you got used to how shitty the job was. You sat in silence as you watched her put more of your stuff away, yawning as you started to get tired.

“You can lay down if you’d like, I’m almost finished with most of your clothes and I can finish the rest of it tomorrow.” She stated.

You nodded, moving off the edge of the bed and you got under the covers. You whimpered, her bed was softer than yours was.

“I love you,” you sighed as you allowed sleep to take over.

You woke up to an empty bed, stretching before you slowly got out of the bed. You were surprised to find a box on the end of the bed with a note that read: Wear this today, I had it ordered for you a while ago.

You took a long shower, not wanting to have to quit your job so you decided to buy yourself some time. Finally, you got out and dressed in the outfit she had wanted you to wear. A skirt so short if you bent down, everything would be on display.

You made your way down the stairs slowly, shifting uncomfortably as you held your skirt down. You were greeted by Sofia in the kitchen, where she was cooking food. She smiled at you, signaling for you to come sit down. You sat down, squeezing your legs shut as the skirt rose up too high for your liking.

“I see you saw the gift I left you upstairs,” she smiled. “You look so good in it and honestly if I didn’t have this meeting, I would take you right here.”

You whimper, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Sofia noticed quickly, biting her lip as she continued to cook the breakfast she was making.

“But I want to respect your wishes, so our first time in a long time will be in our bed.” Sofia hummed, taking a sip of her wine. You were confused, remembering that she had been touching you in the car the night before - but you excused it, thinking that she just wanted to play with you a bit. You weren’t going to question her, not after last night - the last thing you needed was for her to ignore you for hours again.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Wine this early in the morning?”

“If you were having to deal with Oz this early in the morning, you’d drink too.” she smiled, putting food onto your plate. “Now eat up, we have a long day ahead of us.”

You ate the food quickly, not realizing that you were hungry until the food had been in front of you. You drank some of the orange juice she had put out for you - Sofia was an excellent cook and you knew you could get used to this.

“You ready, love?” Sofia asked.

You nodded, wiping your face before the two of you headed to her car. Her driver was already waiting and as soon as you got in and buckled up, he pulled away. The ride was quiet, but Sofia continued to move her hand up your thigh. You stopped yourself from pulling away, remembering how she acted when you did it the night before.

When they stopped at the restaurant, Sofia got out and told you to stay with her driver. You sighed, pulling out your phone to call your job. You quickly told them that you were sick and you wouldn’t be able to come in today - thankful that you barely called off to begin with so they never gave you shit for it. Her driver looked at you through the mirror and you began to panic.

“Please don't tell her,” you begged. “I really enjoy my job at the end of the day.”

Her driver stayed quiet as the two of you sat there and waited for her to get done. You were growing impatient, wishing that you could have gone to work with how long this was taking. Scrolling through your phone was beginning to get boring and all you wanted to do was keep yourself busy. You closed your eyes, deciding to take a nap to kill time.

You woke up as a door was slammed shut, causing you to jump up. Sofia was silent and you could tell things didn’t go as planned. You placed your hand on top of the one that was closer to you, causing her to flinch.

“Take us to the store, I need to get a few things.” Sofia stated and her driver nodded.

You looked out the window, watching as the buildings and people passed by. You were too busy to notice Sofia was staring at you, refusing to take her eyes off you. The store was bigger than the grocery store you worked at and the two of you made your way into the store.

“Ya know how you talked about how much you like to collect stuffed animals?” Sofia pointed out, letting you grab a cart and push it.

“Yeah?”

Sofia smiled, looking down at your ass as she walked behind you. “I’m gonna buy you one today, you can pick it out and if you want anything else you can get it. Food, electronics, anything you want I’ll get it for you.”

You led the way to find the toy section, finding the stuffed animals quickly. You had told her about your stuffed animal collection a month into dating her, and it made you happy with how she remembered it all these years ago. You looked over your options, wanting to pick one that you planned on cuddling with every night with Sofia.

“There’s so many options to choose from,” you smiled. “But this puppy, the black one, is the cutest.”

“Yeah? Is that the one you want, baby?” Sofia questioned, “Are you sure you want the puppy?”

“Yes I’m sure, Sof,” you nodded. You were a little confused as to why she was questioning you so much about it. But you placed him in the cart, pushing it towards the electronics. “Is it okay if I get a laptop? I… nevermind, it’s too much to ask for.”

Sofia stopped you, pulling the waistband of your skirt, causing you to cry out. She let go of it, smirking at the way it snapped against your skin. “You can get whatever you want, nothing is off limits. You want a laptop? We’ll get you the best one. What were you about to say after that?” she asked.

“A… a gaming system. I know it’s silly, but-“ you began, but she cut you off.

“It’s not silly, whatever system you want we’ll get you and as many games as you want.” Sofia said, her tone voice was tight and you could tell she was getting frustrated with you.

“Okay… and snacks and that’s all for now.” You said.

Sofia nodded and the rest of the trip went in a blur and when you heard the total of how much everything was, you felt nauseous. She just handed the person her card and as soon as she got it back, the two of you left the store just as her driver pulled up. You got in with her as he put the bags in the trunk.

Once the two of you were back at her mansion and her driver brought all the bags to her room, she watched you set up your new gaming system to her TV. You were excited to play, never having enough money to even buy a game console after all your bills. You turned to Sofia, watching as she poured herself a glass of wine.

“Thank- Thank you so much, Sof, I really appreciate all of this.” you said, moving away from the TV to sit next to her.

Sofia sat her glass down and pulled out a cigarette. She lit it before she placed her hand on your thigh.

“Go get your stuffed animal, let’s pick out a name for it.” Sofia smiled, and you got up to grab it.

You brought it over to her, sitting back down and placing it on your lap. You smiled down at it and in that moment, Sofia wanted to ruin you but she had to hold off just a bit longer.

“I like the name George.” you commented.

Sofia took the cigarette out of her mouth and blew smoke in your face. “That’s a cute name, I like it.”

Sofia put her cigarette out, and put it on the ashtray before leaning in to kiss your neck. You whimpered, setting the stuffed animal down on the floor as she pulled your shirt off you. Sofia threw it across the room, laughing at the shy look on your face.

“I… wait-“ you began, but Sofia continued.

She unclasped your bra, slowly pulling it off you. Sofia frowned as you covered yourself up and without a word, she stood up and walked into her closet. You sat there, wondering what she was doing until she came out. She hadn’t changed, but before you could ask what she was doing, she pulled out one of the guns you knew she owned.

“I’m so sick of you acting so repulsed by me,” Sofia snapped. “All I’ve wanted to do since being back from Arkham is fuck you and you can’t even fucking let me.”

“Wait- Wait, Sof… I haven’t been acting like that. Honest!” you began. “I- I just want to spend some time with you before we… you know…”

“Fuck?” Sofia finished your sentence for you.

“Sofia,” you began, holding yourself. “You can’t… Please just put the gun down.”

Sofia shook her head - getting closer towards you. “Take the rest of your clothes off. Now.”

You were left with no choice - standing up off the bed and as you began to pull the skirt down. You kept your eyes on her as you kicked it off, but before you could pull your underwear off, Sofia got closer to you. She forcibly turned you around and bent you over the edge of the bed.

Sofia put the tip of the gun to the back of your head as you were trying to wiggle out of her grip. You began to shake uncontrollably as you felt her take the safety off. “Why shouldn’t I just get it over with and kill you right now?” she asked, rubbing your ass through your underwear.

“B- Because you love me, please don’t, Sof. Please don’t kill me.” you begged as Sofia moved so she had a knee on your lower back to hold you down. She dug her knee into you hard, causing you to cry out.

Sofia brought her free hand down against your ass not once, but twice before she spoke up again. She was frustrated, huffing at how much you were shaking. “Can you stop fucking shaking for a few fucking minutes? Fuckin’ hell.”

“Please stop,” you cried out, but she pushed the gun against you harder. “Please… I- I- why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I want to hurt you, baby, you’re so fucking pretty and it makes me want to hurt you.” Sofia admitted. “Ever since I got out yesterday and seeing you in person to where I can reach out and touch you, I’ve had this need to ruin you.”

Sofia grabbed your underwear by the waistband and ripped them completely off you. You whimpered, trying to wiggle out of her grip once more.

“Stop fucking moving, now.” she snapped, getting off you. “You’re making it so much harder for me to not hurt you.”

Sofia kept the gun focused on you as she walked around the bed to grab your stuffed animal. She licked her lips at the sight of your ass, making a mental note to fuck you there eventually.

“Lay on your back and spread your legs.” Sofia commanded.

You knew that she still had the gun pointed at you, so you had no choice but to do as you were told. You turned to lay on your back, slowly opening your legs. You felt your face heat up as you watched her gaze go from your face down to your pussy. Sofia licked her lips before shoving the stuffed animal at you.

“Hold him, baby.” Sofia said, voice laced with fake sympathy. “Hold George while I hurt you.”

You grabbed the stuffed animal out of her hands, holding it hard against your chest as you watched her pull her shirt off with one hand. She was still pointing her gun at you, but thankfully she placed it down on the bed next to you. Sofia pulled her pants down, revealing a strapon that you weren’t sure how long she had been wearing it.

“Spread your legs further for me.” she instructed, grabbing her pack of cigarettes. She took one out of the package and brought it to her lips. Sofia lit it, but before you knew it, she pushed it onto your stomach, causing you to scream out. “That’s my good girl.”

You cried harder, squeezing George as hard as you could. Sofia lit the same cigarette once more, this time putting it out on your pubic bone. You screamed louder and if you weren’t in so much pain, you would think she just came with the way she was out of breath.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty while you scream.” Sofia moaned. “Can you give me one more?”

“Please no, Mommy,” you begged, but your voice was weak. You bit down on George’s ear, preparing yourself as she lit the cigarette again.

Sofia leaned in, bringing the cigarette down onto the part of your chest that George wasn’t covering. She smiled down at you as you screamed, the noises muffled by your new stuffed animal.

Sofia sat up, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. She spat on your pussy, rubbing it in with the tip of the strapon before slamming all the way into you. You cried out, squeezing George as hard as you could as she started to fuck you at a brutal pace.

She grabbed you by the jaw, forcing you to look at her while her other hand pushed your leg up. She spat in your face, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. Releasing your face, she grabbed George out of your grip.

“Please, please give him back, Mommy,” you begged, causing Sofia to laugh.

“Then you better keep your eyes open while I rape you then.” she said, allowing you to grab George from her hand.

You held him even tighter, not wanting her to try and take him away as you fought to keep your eyes open. You watched as she looked down at your pussy as she continued to fuck you. You tried to think of anything other than her taking what she wanted and it was beginning to work. You stared at her, but all you could think about was you on a vacation, far away from Gotham. The sand felt good on your skin as you sat down to watch the waves of the ocean. Before you could think about it any more, Sofia slapped you across the face as hard as she could.

“Oh Puppy,” she hummed, causing your eyes to widen at the nickname. “You don’t get to leave while I’m fucking you.”

“Please just stop,” you begged, but your words were weak. “I’ll do anything just l stop it.”

”Stop it.” Sofia mocked. “You don’t get to tell me to stop, Pup.”

You shook your head, “Stop- Stop calling me that.”

Sofia pouted, faux sympathy, “What? ‘Puppy’ is your name now, you picked it.”

Before you could say anything in response, Sofia pulled out of you quickly, forcing you on to your hands and knees. Sofia lined up with your entrance, this time taking her time pushing into you. Finally she pushed the full length of the strapon into - rubbing the small of your back before she grabbed George from the side of you. Handing you the stuffed animal without a word, Sofia began to fuck you at rough pace. With this angle, it was painful and you tried your best to hold yourself.

You pulled away a little and Sofia grabbed your hips roughly, not allowing you to run away.

“You don’t run away from my cock while I’m fucking you, Puppy.” she scolded you, reaching down and shoving your face into the bed. Sofia held you down in place, reaching down with one of her hands to rub at your clit. “Tell Mommy how much you love being used like this.”

When you didn’t answer, Sofia pinched your clit harder than she did the night before. You whimpered into your stuffed animal - unable to cry anymore with how much you had.

“I don’t like this.” you stated.

To your surprise, Sofia let go of your clit. She pulled out of you, and you turned around and sat up. You took a few deep breaths, wiping your face as you held onto George. Sofia stood in front of you, awkwardly standing in place as she kept her eyes trained on you.

“You don’t like when I rape you?” Sofia questioned with a frown. “If you don’t, then why are you so wet? Spread your legs, now.”

You bit your lip, slowly opening your legs knowing that Sofia wasn’t giving you an option - you also didn’t want her to pick her gun back up.

“That’s a good pup,” she praised, making your stomach turn. You looked down at George, biting your lip before you looked at Sofia. “Such a naive thing…”

Sofia got closer, bringing her hand to your pussy. She rubbed your clit with the palm of her hand, humming at how wet you were. You whined as she took her hand off your pussy, but she brought it down hard against you. You instinctively tried to close your legs but Sofia held them open. She continued to spank your pussy, over and over, causing you to cry out.

“Am I hurting you, Puppy?” Sofia asked, closing her fist and hitting you as hard as she could. “Answer me.”

You nodded, “Y-Yes, Mommy. Please stop-“

Sofia shook her head, “No, you didn’t like me fucking you even though you’re so fucking wet. So I’m going to really hurt you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as she raked her nails against your thigh hard. You stayed still, too exhausted to really fight back. You sniffled, “Please… I’ll- I’ll let you…”

“You’ll let me what?” Sofia asked, reaching up to slap you across the face. “You’ll let me what, Puppy?”

When you didn’t answer right away, Sofia wrapped her hand around your throat, squeezing as hard as she could. She only let up just as you started seeing stars, smiling as you gasped for breath. Her eyes went wild as she watched you, taking in the sight of you gasping for air.

“Tell me what you’ll let me do.” Sofia repeated, pinching your nipple before bringing her hand down to your pussy. She rubbed at your sore clit, her movements softer than what you expected her to do.

“R- Rape me,” you whispered. “Please… just please stop hitting me, Mommy. I can’t take any more of it.”

“Oh baby, “ Sofia sighed, gripping the base of the toy. She pushed in all the way. “Then that’s not rape, Puppy... This isn’t rape, you’re so wet that I slid in so easily and you just asked me to do it.”

Sofia decided that she had dragged this all out, she began to fuck you harder. She held your legs open, watching the toy go in and out of you. You knew that you were going to have bruises tomorrow from how hard she was holding them down. Your body began to betray you, getting closer to the edge as she continued the pace. She let go of one of your thighs to rub your clit roughly, bringing her attention to your face. Sofia smirked - normally she would stop when you had your eyes closed, but you looked too good for her to stop.

“You want to cum while Mommy’s raping this pretty little pussy?” Sofia questioned, bringing her free hand up to your neck. She just held you in place, not putting any pressure on you. “Ask nicely and Mommy’ll let you cum.”

You held onto George harder, realizing that you couldn’t hold out for much longer. You whimpered, “Please can I cum? Please, please! M’can’t hold it anymore, Mommy.”

Sofia chuckled, placing her hands on either side of you as she fucked you harder. “Go on, cum on Mommy’s cock like a good fuckin’ girl.”

You came silently, squeezing your eyes shut as you brought George up to your face. Sofia watched you do it as she fucked you through your orgasm.

“Such a good little Puppy for your Mommy.” Sofia praised, stilling her movements once you came down from your high. She leaned down, kissing your neck before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. “Mommy only wants to make you feel so good… Will you behave next time and let me make you feel good?”

You nodded, whimpering as she pulled out of you.

“Good girl.” Sofia hummed. “I think for the next time I fuck you, I’m going to get you such a pretty collar. Would you like that, Puppy? Would you like Mommy to spoil you again?”

You were too exhausted to speak up, humming as she got off the bed. You heard Sofia drop the strapon to the floor, making a comment about how she’ll clean it tomorrow. She helped you to your feet, leading you towards the bathroom.

“Going to get you all nice and cleaned up, Pup.” she commented, grabbing George out of your hand gently. “I’m gonna put him up on the dresser, okay? He’s only for our special occasions.”

You nodded, watching as she let go of you to put George on the dresser before she brought you into the bathroom. Sofia cleaned you up and before you could go and grab some clothes to sleep in, she stopped you.

“Silly Puppy,” she smiled. “Puppies don’t wear clothes.”

[outrunningthedark]

wait, wasn´t one common argument in defence of Oliver not promoting the canon ship he was in, that he knew it could end and he probaby did not want to "bait" anybody? So he was prepared to do "longing glances" even if a queer arc wasn´t approved or planed but talking about the queer relationship he actually got to play in was as step to far?

Interesting, isn't it? 🤔 I know why people are saying this kind of stuff - they cannot handle Oliver being "exposed" as less perfect than they believed him to be, especially when depicting a queer character - but "he didn't want to bait anybody" is a hollow argument when Oliver didn't know it was ending in s7 (Since knew Tommy wasn't going away after 7x06...logic would say he'd have been a bit more optimistic!) and actually, actively showing support for the ship only for it to end would have made him LOOK BETTER because NOBODY would be side-eyeing him and his need to please if he was showing love to the fans that actually appreciated what they were watching on screen. These fans are so worried about "looking like Buddies" by calling attention to behavior that doesn't sit right with them that they'd rather pretend there's not actually any suspect behavior to call out. Imagine caring about what an actor thinks of you when said actor speaks as though you don't exist anyway because you're not part of the majority? Lol.

[rablovergirl]

Hey! I love your content loving the moonwater stufffff. You should write something where regulus is jealous because Remus is hanging out with Sirius even though they haven’t been a thing in over a year so regulus has to remind Remus why he’s the black brother Remus is dating (aka regulus being a little jealous slut when it comes to Sirius and remus’s friendship)

ur onto something...

there are a fee ways this could go.

either Regulus sees them talking and laughing and smiling and gets jealous so he decides he's going to flirt with James and barty right in front of remus to make him jealous. It results in an argument (shocker ik) and regulus threatening to go fuck someone else.

"I have people falling over themselves to get a chance with me and you have the fucking nerve to want my brother? James and barty... they said they would let me have both of them at once. They want me so badly, all I have to say is 'fuck me' and they’ll be worshiping me in seconds. So remus it's your choice, you can have me, no one else will ever touch me again, I'll do whatever you want, please you so well or I could walk out the door straight to james or barty and you can go off and play happy fucking family with my brother."

"I don't want sirius, regulus. Let me show I want you. Let me remind you how well I fuck you yeah? Make sure you know that no one could ever fuck you as well as I do."

It ends with regulus being worshipped from head to toe (but also being spanked for flirting with other people), the whole thing is really just an excuse for regulus to feel wanted.

THE OTHER WAY IT COULD GO is regulus sneaks up into remus' room (lets pretend its not a dorm) and starts fingers himself on the bed waiting for remus to finish his conversation and come up stairs.

When he does, he has to admit it's a present surprise but..

"Not to say that I'm not thoroughly turned on right now but didn't we agree it's against the rules to touch yourself without my permission love?" remus is smirking down at him, loving the concentrated look on the other boy's face. He knows regulus isn't getting the right angles at all, his fingers aren't long enough.

"well you were too busy conversing with my brother so I needed to take things into my own hands." and he's SO STUBBORN.

"baby, we both know that you aren't making yourself feel good. Let me help."

"No. You're going to watch while I make myself come and remind you how good I am to you. Remind you why you chose me."

[rubensmuse]

having meditated on it, the issue with the lords of fortune isn't that they're doing repatriation now, it's how it's being handled as a piece of storytelling. and the way it's being handled is fucking BORING.

the thing about returning looted artifacts to their cultures of origin is that, in real life, it's an extremely dicey issue. and when i say that, i'm not saying "and that's why we should not do it in real life nor depict it in fiction", because obviously we should do both of those to the best of our ability. but it isn't straightforward.

in real life, arguments made by museums in looter countries against repatriation often bring up how there isn't always a solid record of which pieces of art and culture were stolen or parted with via coercion, and which were traded for willingly; or refuse to recognize the sovereignty of a nation of people who claim ownership of an item and prefer to return it to a modern-day government that does not represent them; or, alternatively, bring up the fact that the modern-day country requesting the artifact "back" was not the same country that created it, and use that as evidence that they don't have any claim to it at all. there are political considerations, there are diplomatic considerations, there are military considerations. it's a whole thing.

in the setting of dragon age, you don't have all of these exact problems. but in a scenario where we're to understand that this semi-decentralized guild of treasure hunters has recently shifted gears toward repatriation, we don't have zero problems. the principle one is that thedas as a continent and the states within it don't actually function the same way our world does, meaning "repatriation" might not even be a consideration for anyone who isn't an elf, but i don't wanna get into that. there are far more granular issues instead.

for example, one story in tevinter nights follows a band of lords pulling off a heist. does this mean stealing from the living is above board, but robbing the dead is frowned upon unless you give some of it back to the descendants? how old does an artifact have to be before it stops being fair game? how culturally significant does it have to be, and how do you even measure that?

what if you're a long-time member just in this for the plunder, and now that your guildmates are advocating all this scholarly and/or culturally respectful stuff, you're just pretending to go along with it and palming smaller relics for resale? what responsibility does the lords of fortune as a guild have to penalize you? what ability?

what if you proudly present a dalish clan with a burial urn you found outside of its context, and then their keeper gets fucking pissed at you because that was supposed to stay in the ground, you idiot, and now you and your guildmates are suspected of defiling a grave? on the flip side, what if you DO defile that grave, and return the relics inside for a finder's fee alongside the lie that you got it from the real graverobber, because offering a bounty for returned cultural artifacts creates a demand for them?

what if your opinion of what counts as "sacred" is different from someone else's, on a cultural in addition to an individual basis?

what if two dalish clans who hate each other place a claim on the same relic?

what if, perhaps, you have a kossith contact in your guild, living the qun outside of a qunari community. and you've been giving her all of your qunari artifacts to study, in the spirit of goodwill and cultural exchange. and then one day on your way to her house a ben-hassrath steps out of the shadows and politely requests the tablet you're holding, and also directions to your contact's residence, because as far as the ariqun is concerned, you've been giving vital pieces of qunari culture and history to someone who isn't a qunari?

what interesting scenarios! what rich stories we could get out of them! even the barest reference to some of these issues would suggest a more multifaceted view of a faction, and entice players into selecting it for their character.

and at time of writing, i'm still waiting to see anything like them in the game.

[peppymintdreams]

a fic of barista and elias having an argument, and barista crying in the middle of it?

Tears in the Storm

Elias x Barista

The tension in the room was palpable. It had been building up for days—weeks, even—but tonight was the breaking point. Elias and Barista stood across from each other, the air thick with frustration and unspoken words. The argument had started innocently enough, a disagreement about something small, but like a fire catching dry grass, it quickly escalated.

“Elias, I just don’t get it!” Barista’s voice was tight, but the raw edge of hurt was creeping in. “Why do you always shut me out when things get difficult? Why can’t you just talk to me like a normal person?!”

Elias’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. His frustration, always on a razor’s edge, finally snapped. “Because I don’t need anyone to fix my problems!” he shot back, his voice rising in pitch. “I can’t drag you into everything, Barista! I—I don’t want to keep putting you in danger just because I can’t handle things on my own!”

“You’re always pushing me away!” Barista’s chest heaved with each breath, their hands trembling at their sides. “I’m not some fragile thing you have to protect, Elias. I’m here for you, you know that, don’t you? Why is it so hard to just let me in for once? To let me help you?”

“I’m trying to protect you, okay?!” Elias snapped, his voice raw with emotion. “Every time I try to open up, something goes wrong, and I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt because of my mistakes. It’s easier for me to keep it to myself than to drag you into this mess!”

Barista took a step forward, their eyes desperate as they searched Elias’s face. “But we’re in this together, Elias! We’re always together! It doesn’t matter what happens, we’re a team, okay?”

Elias’s heart clenched, but his pride, that wall of defense he’d built over the years, wouldn’t let him let go. “You don’t understand, Barista. You never will. I—” He stopped himself, realizing how cruel his words were, but he couldn’t take them back.

A sharp silence fell between them. The words hung in the air like smoke, suffocating them both.

Barista’s breath hitched as they blinked rapidly, trying to keep the sting of tears at bay. The words Elias had said—those raw, cutting things—tore at them, but it was the underlying truth that hurt the most. He didn’t trust them enough to let them in. And that thought… that thought had more power than anything else he could’ve said.

“Fine,” Barista whispered, their voice barely audible. “If that’s how you feel… then maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

The weight of the words hit Elias like a punch to the gut. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. His chest tightened with guilt, but his fear and pride held him back, like invisible chains he couldn’t break free from.

Barista wiped at their eyes, turning away from him. “I can’t keep doing this, Elias. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s fine when you won’t even let me in.” Their voice cracked, and they quickly turned their back on him, not wanting him to see the tears that were finally falling.

Elias felt like the ground beneath him had just vanished. He wanted to go to them, to take their hands, to apologize for every stupid thing he’d said, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor.

“I didn’t mean that,” he said, his voice breaking as he took a step forward. His heart pounded. He needed to fix this. “Barista—please, I didn’t—”

But Barista was already shaking their head, their body trembling as they wiped their face, trying to regain control. “No, Elias. I… I need space. I can’t keep doing this.”

Elias’s stomach twisted with dread. He wanted to hold them, to tell them everything he’d been too afraid to say, but he was terrified. Terrified that he’d ruined something he wasn’t sure he could fix.

Barista’s shoulders shook as they turned back toward him, their tear-streaked face a mixture of hurt and exhaustion. “I just want to be there for you, Elias. Is that too much to ask?” Their voice was soft now, but it held so much pain. “Why can’t you just let me love you?”

The words hit Elias harder than anything. They shattered him, because deep down, he knew he was the one pushing them away. He’d always been this way—always afraid of letting anyone close, of letting them see the cracks in his armor.

His voice was barely a whisper as he took a tentative step forward, reaching for them. “Barista, I— I’m so sorry.”

But they shook their head again, stepping back from him. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Elias. I need more than just your apology. I need you.”

Elias’s chest tightened with panic, but he held his ground, his heart aching. He was scared—terrified that he’d lost them, but there was only one thing he could say now.

“I love you,” he said, the words raw, desperate. “I know I don’t always show it, but I love you. Please, don’t go.”

Barista froze, staring at him with wide eyes. The tears that had been falling seemed to stop in an instant. The silence was thick, but this time it wasn’t suffocating. It was a chance.

Slowly, Barista took a hesitant step toward him, their hands still trembling. “You… love me?” they asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Elias nodded, his eyes searching theirs for some sign that he hadn’t ruined everything. “I’m not perfect, but I’m trying, okay? I just… I don’t know how to let you in without breaking you, but I’m learning. I’ll learn for you.”

Barista’s tears started again, but this time, it was a different kind of cry. The cry of someone who’d been holding onto pain for too long and now, finally, felt heard. They stepped forward, closing the gap between them, and Elias reached for them immediately, pulling them into an embrace, careful not to hurt them more.

“I’m so sorry,” Elias murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise… I promise I’ll do better.”

Barista’s arms wrapped around him, holding on tightly as they let the tears fall freely now. “I just want you to let me love you, Elias. That’s all I want.”

And for the first time in a long while, Elias let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—they could work through this. Together.

[the-thieves-gambit]

There was a moment where she wanted to argue just for the sake of arguing. It seemed like for some reason when she was with him, she always just wanted to prove him wrong. Not want to agree with him. His reasoning left her a little speechless, it wasn't like she didn't already know that about him already but something about him saying it seemed a bit sad. Knowing how often he always left, knowing that most were not patient enough for someone who led this life. And he had become her friend, so thinking about her friend longing for something, also seemed a bit sad. the argument that loving one person was setting yourself up for failure was also at the tip of her tongue but something told her to say something else. Something nice. But she could think of not what to say to that. So she said nothing. Nothing about how she's never met someone who could do that, though that was a lie, her best friend and Anna were proof. But they were a million in one chance, surely. Content with letting it slid this once, he needed his rest anyway, she pretended that she didn't hear him say that.

A suck choice. A chuckle came from her. Perhaps it was the darkness of the room that gave her some clarity, no distracting injuried body or emerald eyes to look into to forget the fact he didn't know her. For all the time that they spent together, whether it was her choice or not, he didn't know her. How many 'suck' choices had she had to make in the years since her fathers death? Tears had stung her eyes, but she swallowed them away. After settling with Anna and Charlie, the one thing she had never done before had began to creep in. Contemplating the things she did, the people she hurt, the things she stole, the many choices that she made until that point in her life. The one thing that ate away at her, was the fact that she did not regret a single choice. The monster she had become was a necessary survival choice and given the chance to do it all over again, she would do it all over again. Albeit, maybe a few changes here and there, but she would do it all again.

The morning shower had been a moment of clarity for her. She would take the day for herself. With Wally injured, he'd have to take it easy and she could truly spend this day for herself as it had been promised. She could go into town and play tourist. Just one day couldn't hurt, she even had the perfect outfit. A nice dress she hadn't used in a year.

Once she was dressed, she took her time doing her makeup and hair. In the middle of which she heard a voice. With a small sigh, she listened and realized what this meant. "Morning," she said through the door as she finished her task. "It wasn't an ick." She said as she opened the door to look for dress sandals. "It was just unexpected. And yes. His name is Nolan." Sitting on the couch she put them on as she sighed again. "This wasn't how I was planning on spending today but I'll go down to the beach and talk him up."

Once her sandals were on, she stood up and ran her hands down the front of her dress making sure that none of it had bunched up. "You know, you owe me. This was supposed to be a vacation, now I have to go and flirt with hot surfer guys to get you your kid." It was better to act like she didn't care, she learned that apathy would get her further, and caring would only slow her down and get her killed. She needed to get her head in the game, this was a different stadium and she did not have home-field advantage. "Do you need anything before I head out? I'm going to make some coffee and toast before I leave. Should I have Guillermo take you back to your room?"

"Well, how about a flamingo? They also have one mate until they die." he challenged half awake which made him laugh a little. She was about to get into a battle over animals who mated for life. "Mmm just like to love on one person."

He shook his head against the pillow as he spoke into it softly. "Not necessarily. Don't need to know each other. Makes it easier? I suppose but when you don't care there's a way." He had to have mentioned his thoughts on cheaters before. "That is still a suck choice."

Nothing could have him willingly get out of that nice dream he was having. Either his body was truly that exhausted or it had given up on him with the beat down he had taken not even a full twenty four hours ago. Still, hearing her voice and having this nice conversation made it easy for him to slip into sleep and stay there.

The incessant buzzing of his phone made him burrow deeper into the pillow not wanting any part of it. It kept buzzing into his ear like a bee not knowing when to stop. Finally, he patted the side where he had left his phone last night and pressed accept. His eyes were closed and before he got a word in he heard her voice. The ever shrill voice of his most hated person on the entire planet. She was loud and obnoxious and it didn't even dawn on him that he wasn't even in his room but in Liz's. Speaking of which his head snapped up looking for her and panic set in. Something that came out of nowhere and had helped drown out the yelling on the other end of the line. It wasn't until he looked over to the light coming from the bathroom that had him settle. If only briefly. This trip was not only fucking with his mind but also his heart.

His attention got pulled back to the phone as she had finished and sought the opportunity to hang up on her. "Fucking bitch." he set the phone down again this time wide awake and seeing that it wasn't even morning yet. At least he didn't feel his insides were about to gush out from him. Everything that had happened last night had come back to him and certain pieces came into focus.

As he got on a call with one of his contacts he started to play with the frayed ends of the pillows as they answered. Getting the information he wanted he started to type up the letters in his phone. Switching them around to see what other words could come out from that. The more he concentrated the more he laser focus he got.

"Hey, uh Liz?"his voice carried a softer undertone but also held a twinge of urgency. "Morning. Hey, what was the name of the people you met yesterday at the beach? Any had letters a or n in them? That guy you had an ick with," he didn't truly know if she did or not but he assumed. "Was he part of the group? I think I think they're the key to finding this kid." He was willing to bet his entire career on this. He knew he wasn't gonna be able to be Lennox at all for a few days so he was working a second angle. Something he could do without getting in the way of whatever her plan was. Which now that he thought about it, he'd ask her what exactly was her plan.

Was he supposed to be asleep? Yes. Was he going to go back to sleep? Not likely. His brain had turned back on and that meant his body would become restless until something was done.