#and they fed me and kept mistaking me for a man

[okeancs]

gender affirmed

[foldingfittedsheets]

I worked retail for a long time and people really do treat you like shit sometimes. But between selling sex toys, mattresses, and jewelry I can say definitively I got treated worst selling mattresses.

All three of my jobs were in sales but selling sex toys we were allowed to put people in their place, and in jewelry people didn’t want to misbehave in a fancy setting. But people at the mattress store had no problem yelling at me, hitting on me, or insulting me to my face.

For a while I was managing my own store for the company. I ran a small location and had struggling employees placed with me for rehabilitation. If their numbers improved they could go back to bigger stores. If not, they got fired.

So this meant I was the manager of problem employees. At one point both of my people had a foot out the door. The company was going downhill and changed computer systems and they were fed up. Consequently, they made a ton of mistakes, because they just didn’t care about the job or learning the new systems.

I strolled into work on what was essentially my Monday to a shit show. Deliveries scheduled without product, wrong things on orders, poor expectations of the process, you name it. I spent the entire morning getting yelled at for mistakes that weren’t mine.

The final straw came when a man called furious that his moms bed for her nursing home had a delivery window he couldn’t accommodate. This wasn’t a huge disaster since we still had time to deliver it before she moved. I ran him through the options and he just kept screaming at me. Not for a solution but because I was there and he was frustrated.

My heart filled with malice and a cold fury. A calculating part of my brain had a realization in that moment that I could stay a punching bag or I could strike back.

I quavered my voice delicately, taking in a shaky, warbling breath like I was trying not to cry. “Sir,” I quivered through fake tears, “I don’t know what you want from me! I told you what I can do, I didn’t make this mistake I’m just trying to fix it!” My voice broke pitifully on the last syllables, sounding in all ways like a sweet innocent person being yelled at who’s just trying her best, really!

It was like I’d doused him with cold water. My emotional act was the realization that he was screaming at someone who was just doing their damn job, and he was being an asshole. He hastily made an excuse and hung up.

I had a third employee covering with me from another store that day who heard everything. When I hung up, I looked over to see them watching me with an awed expression. “Did… did you just pretend to cry?”

“I absolutely fucking did,” I said with feeling, “and I’d do it a thousand more times. If that’s what it takes for someone to realize they’re behaving like a fucking prick, they deserve it.” The employee looked at me like I was their hero.

The man called back, apologizing profusely, having magically arranged his schedule to accommodate delivery. He came in later that week with an apology Starbucks gift card. I was gracious in my acceptance.

I pulled it a few more times before leaving the company. I felt no shame in the ruse. If someone behaves so poorly that it’s plausible their behavior would drive someone to tears they deserve to feel absolutely wretched about it.

[kihyunsflavor]

I belong to you

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: Your house unknown but a high-born and a Bene Gesserit, you get wed to the na-baron of Giedi Prime, Feyd-Rautha. It´s not easy with him and his darlings, but after some time it seems you are much to his liking. Is there a soft side hidden inside Feyd, only for his wife to see or will he treat you the same as any servant?

Warnings: arranged marriage (like all of them lol), smut, violent behavior, breeding kink, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of knives and blood, size kink

Word count: 3.5k

Authors note: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it <3

The bed was comfortable and soft, much different than the room itself with his stony, cold walls and the black interior. You were not asleep, just lying in bed with closed eyes. The current situation making you uneasy and sleep didn’t come easily. Next to that were the people standing in your room. You felt their preying eyes on your body even though the blanket covered you fully. It was Feyd-Rautha, your newlywed husband, with his darlings. There were three of them, being his concubines for quite some time. 

“She is rather ugly.” One girl spoke up, not even caring to whisper her words. They probably wanted you to hear it anyways. “Next to that she is a witch.” The other hissed. Feyd stayed quiet but you knew he had a big smile plastered on his face. You didn’t move nor open your eyes, you wanted to know why they suddenly decided to pay you a visit at this hour. Your husband hasn’t been in your chambers before, not even after marriage did he share the bed with you. He was spending time with his darlings and only having this annoying black teethed grin on his face when you ran into him.

“I think she is awake, Feyd. The witch listened to us since we came here.” 

The room was dark, no light coming through the big windows. This planet was very dim, caused by the industrial pollution and their black sun. One of the reasons why you missed your home planet so much. There you had fields of green grass, blue skies and people were dressed in colorful clothes. It was a warm planet, like spring and autumn combined. 

You opened your eyes and stared at the little group in your chamber. Your expression cold, showing no emotion. Feyd and his darlings kept your gaze, amusement hiding behind their eyes. Slowly, you sat up glancing shortly at the clock next to your bed. It was 2 am. “What is the reason you came into my room at this hour, my Lord?” You asked, annoyance showing through your voice. Again, this grin on his face. He hasn’t shared many words with you since you arrived on Giedi Prime. All you ever dream of is this exact expression. 

“My darlings wanted to take a look at my little present.” Present? No, you were not just a mere gift to him, but right now Feyd sought only to demean you.

He sat down on the edge of the bed to your feet, his eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to drink up every expression you were going to show him. But there was nothing. You had trained long, you were good at it. Instead, you shifted your eyes to his three concubines. They all looked pretty similar, only one of them had a big black bar on her forehead. Their skin was white, eyes fully black and their heads shaved, not a single hair on their body just like Feyd. You had heard they were the beauties of Giedi Prime - and they fed on human flesh. 

“I have been here for two months now. Did they not have the chance to take a look at me yet?” You replied. Feyd shifted next to you and your eyes fell back on him. He didn’t like the tone you were using. “Careful wife, that´s not how you speak to me.” You mustered his face, he appeared to be displeased by your reaction, not expecting you to talk back like this. He was a scary man, unpredictable and violent, but you were not an ordinary girl. Trained in the way of the Bene Gesserit, you mastered the Voice. There was no way you would give yourself that easily to him. “I apologize, husband.” Seconds later, there was a knife sitting at your throat. The cold blade grazed your skin lightly, but still breaking it enough to release tiny drops of blood. You were surprised by his sudden reaction and leaned back. Holding your chin high, you did not break eye contact with Feyd´s dark blue eyes. “You better shut your mouth!” 

It was a command. He wanted you to submit, making it clear he had full control over you. However, you simply stared back at him, not moving a muscle. This made him angry, but he didn’t change the pressure of his hold. “Do you want me to cut your neck, little mouse? I could slice you up right in this moment.” The grin wandered back on his face, making you uneasy. He was enjoying the thought of making you bleed. You replied after a while, choosing your next words carefully. “I will give myself to you completely, but it will be out of my own will, not through force, na-Baron.”

Feyd´s expression went blank for a second. He sensed something in you, something he hasn’t been confronted with before. Now snarling he said “You better do as I say, wife. I won´t think twice about staining these sheets red with your blood.” A soft smile appeared on your lips; it was not to tease him. With a calmer voice you replied “No, you won´t treat me like this. I am your wife, not a mere servant you command. I will submit to you, but you need to earn my respect first.”

During this whole time the three concubines just stood there watching you and Feyd. There was so much tension in the air, that they didn’t dare to interfere. But then Feyd leaned back on his heels and the knife left your throat. You straightened your back and touched your skin where it had been broken softly. Tiny droplets of blood stained your fingers, but it was not much. Suddenly one of the concubines dropped to her knees next to the bed. She looked at your fingers with pleading eyes. “Let me taste your blood, please.” You starred at her confused than back at your fingers. Thinking about all possibilities what could go wrong if you let her do it, you finally decided to let her lick your fingers clean. Reaching out to her, she immediately leaned forward to lap at them. For a second you looked back at Feyd, who carried his usual smile, enjoying the situation in front of him. But in the next moment the girl kneeling on the ground raised rapidly and tasted the fresh wound on your neck. 

“Go away!” Stripped of control over her own body, the concubine moved away from you. She blinked disorientated, trying to figure out what just had happened. 

“How dare you?!” The other concubines hissed, dripping with spite. Feyd was showing not a single emotion in his face. You directed your next words to the concubines. “You ask me how I dare? I don’t think I gave her permission to touch my neck.” Those standing looked to Feyd for help and protection, yet his gaze remained solely fixed on you. “Do you think you are better than us? We have been here for a long time. You are just a foreign girl.” They started to argument, but you interrupted them. “Yes, I think I am better. You may have been in his care for ages, but who is the one that will bear his heir? It will only be me.” Your response silenced them.

The room was quiet, you watched Feyd taking in your words. It appeared as though a realization washed over him, yet he wouldn’t let it go so easily. 

The knife returned to your throat, this time softer, drawing no blood. “I don’t like the way you treat my darlings. You are not yet with child, wife.” His eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. “And why is that?" You retorted sharply. "If you had devoted more time to me after our marriage, I might be carrying an heir now. But instead, you choose to spend your days and nights with them.” If he wanted to play a game, you certainly wouldn't hesitate to participate. 

There was anger and fury dancing in his eyes, yet nestled behind it, timid and faint, was attraction. You almost had him at your grasp. “And why is it that you have an issue with my behavior towards your concubines, but overlook their insults and disrespect towards me? This is not how I imagined Feyd-Rautha, the na-Baron, to treat his wife.” 

Feyd was taken aback by your words and let his hand with the knife sink down. You both held each other's gaze for a while, almost as if engaged in a silent communication through your eyes. It felt as though he had finally comprehended the entirety of the situation. Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, offering your throat to him in submission. It was the gesture he had been seeking - a sign of surrender. In the next moment you heard the knife hit the ground with a sharp clink and his raspy deep voice, dismissing the concubines.

Soft, wet lips immediately left a trail of kisses along your exposed neck. He made a grunting noise while inhaling your scent. You shifted your arms and laid flat on your back, opening your legs so he could just fit nicely in between them. Feyd made a noise of appreciation and continued his assault on your skin. “My dear little wife, being so obedient now.” When whispering, his voice sounded much deeper. It turned you on. His hands found your clothed breasts, squeezing them roughly, but as your hand caressed the back of his head calmly, he softened his touch. He raised his head and locked eyes with you before kissing you for the second time, since you arrived on this planet. 

The blanket was fully gone now, thrown into the last part of the bed. Your nightdress pulled up, so his hands had free access to your naked skin. Feyd enjoyed tracing the curves of your body, savoring every glimpse he could get of you. “Yes, so pretty like that. You like it too, don’t you, little mouse?” He grinned and his face moved closer to your face again to fully capture your expression in this dimly lit room. “I like it very much, husband.” “Feyd. Say my name.” His lips lingered over yours, waiting for it. “I like it very much, Feyd.” You repeated. A growl leaving his throat, he pressed his lips to yours. 

His right hand wandered down to your clothed cunt. He brushed over it, making you whine into his mouth. He grinned, slipping his hand underneath your panties and gliding his fingers through your heat. “You´re so wet, my dear. Is that all for me?” A moan escaped your mouth at his words. Oh how his deep voice and words turned you on. You were sure, he could make you come just with it alone. Not trusting your voice, you nodded. He watched you, as his fingers played with your sensitive area. Gradually, he lowered his lips, planting kisses along your cleavage, grazing over your nipples, and trailing down to your stomach. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your lace panties. “They are so pretty, but unfortunately, they have to go.” Feyd remarked.

After they were thrown onto the floor, Feyd leaned down between your legs, placing small kisses on your inner thighs. You arched your back at the pleasure and quiet whimpers escaped your throat. Feyd made his way to your pussy and gave it a lick, making you shudder. “You like that?” He grinned suggestively at you, revealing his black teeth. But he didn´t wait for an answer, instead he ravished you like a starving man. His big hands were placed on either side of your hips to keep you pressed into the mattress, since it was difficult for you to stay still. Quickly, two fingers entered you, moving slowly. Your moans grew louder, searching hands buried themselves in the black sheets. “I am going to come, Feyd!” Goosebumps spread all over your body, you were so close to your release. “Then come, little mouse!” He commanded and you let yourself go fully. It was a climax like you never had before when touching yourself alone. Your husband was definitely very skilled. 

After you had calmed down a little, Feyd loomed over you. His lips found yours again and he rutted against your body. Even though he was still clothed, you could feel how turned on he was. “Gonna have my way with you now, yea?” He chuckled, leaning back to pull his pants down. Your eyes widened at his length and thickness, as you starred at his dick. You began to worry how it was going to fit inside you. Feyd saw the change in your expression and bend back down, holding himself up with one arm next to your head, while the other pumped his cock slowly. “Don´t worry, dear. I will be gentle.” He planted a kiss to the tip of your nose and you locked eyes with him. His now gentle and tender actions made you wonder, if it was just a tactic to make you trust him. Despite this uncertainty, you didn´t sense any unease in your gut. 

You gave him a shy smile and your hands found his strong shoulders. “Will you put this off as well? I want to see you.” Your words amused him, he enjoyed the way you behaved. “Everything my little wife wants.” He answered proudly, feeling his ego boosted and leaning back to remove his shirt. You mustered his pale skin - it was white like snow. Curious fingers grazed over his muscles, Feyd placed his hand over yours. It made you feel safe. There was no longer anger or violence directed towards you.

You gazed at each other for a while, neither of you feeling the need to break eye contact. It was easier to read his emotions now, and it was clear that he wanted the same thing as you did. You freed your hand out of his hold and placed it on his strongly erected member. Gently, you started stroking him. Feyd closed his eyes and tilted his head back from the pleasure he was feeling. You tightened your grip, precome dripping out of the tip. It was such an arousing view. 

Suddenly Feyd gripped your wrists and placed them over your head. “I want to come inside you, little mouse.” He breathed huskily in your ear. You didn’t mind this at all, finally feeling his touch on your body was exhilarating. You had always desired his attention. 

There was some impatience in his movements now. Feyd stared at your naked body underneath him, while his free hand positioned your hips at the perfect angle. You felt yourself clamping down on nothing, wanting to be filled up by his pretty cock. “My love, you look irresistible. You won´t be getting any sleep tonight.” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine, excitement bubbling in your stomach. Before he entered you, he freed your wrists out of his grasp to support his own weight. You panicked for a second as it seemed like he was going to lean back, and you really disliked not having him close in this vulnerable situation. Feyd smiled, his face only mere inches from yours. “I'm not going anywhere.” He reassured you with his raspy voice and captured your lips.

Kissing him shifted your focus away from the pain between your legs, as he pushed inside your tight hole. “Doing so good for me, doll.” He hushed your whimpers, pressing you closer to his warm body. You felt safe in his arms, being able to relax completely. After he was fully sheathed inside you, he let you adjust to his size.

Blinking slowly, you opened your eyes and looked at him. His eyes were already fixed on your features. Small praises left his lips, before he loosened his hug on you and brought his arms next to your head. You felt so small when he was hovering over you like this. Not long after, Feyd started to move his hips. First, he was gentle and slow but as your moans grew louder, he quickened his pace. Your hands wandered over his wide, muscled back, fingernails causing small scratches to appear. The pain spurned him on. “They gave me such a perfect wife, taking me so well.” Your husband praised and placed a kiss on your forehead. You shuddered and felt your release being close. Feyd´s thrusts started to become sloppy and unsteady as well. He cursed under his breath and bit into your shoulder. You squeaked at the sudden pain. “Feyd, I am close.” You whispered. He lifted his head again and grinned. “Good girl, yea… I am close too.” He growled, his eyes turning even darker. You caught a glimpse of primal instinct in them, like you were his prey. “Come for me whenever you are ready, little mouse.”

Feyd pulled out completely, only his tip touching your entrance slightly. Then in a fast movement, he pushed inside again, going in so deep his dick kissed your cervix. You made a startled sound and in the next moment could only moan. He was hitting all the right places, which made you come hard. Your back arched off the mattress, while moaning your husband’s name in bliss. Feyd had waited for your climax until he let himself go and filled you up with his seed. “So good... so good for me.” He rasped, out of breath, still coming down from his high. 

You had closed your eyes, only opening them when Feyd was moving over you. He had leaned back on his heels. One hand was placed protectively over your stomach, while the other held up your leg. He watched his cum drip out of your pussy. When his attention returned to your face, he grinned slyly. “Not done with you yet.” You were quickly turned around on all fours. “Yes, stay like that.” Feyd´s body was pressed into your back and his dick rubbed on your ass. He was growing bigger and bigger every second. Calloused fingers found their way into your hair and he tugged harshly on it. “Going to fill you up again. That´s what you wanted, am I right, little mouse?” You could hear how much he enjoyed teasing you.

There was no time for a reply, as he pushed inside of you with ease and you couldn’t surpress the moan that escaped you at the feeling of the stretch. The sensation nearly stole your breath away and Feyd immediately set a rapid pace. In this angle he felt significantly larger and deeper than before. All you could manage were small whimpers in response to the overwhelming sensation. 

Feyd´s free hand, that was placed on your waist, landed a sharp slap on one of your cheeks. The pain made you hiss through clenched teeth and you turned your head slightly to look back at him. Pleasure and lust were written on his face and when you caught his eyes, a smirk appeared. “Don’t look at me like this, love. I know you liked it, clenching down on me so tightly.” He pulled your hair back, forcing you to sit up. Your back was pressed against his chest when he whispered into your ear. “Tell me how much you like it.”

A shudder went down your spine and you whined. He was so deep inside of you. With a shaky hand you pressed down on your lower belly to feel the bulge Feyd was creating. “It feels really good-ah!” You answered him. “You like it, when I fuck you like this, little mouse?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Yes, yes Feyd.” Seconds later your orgasm approached and you came hard on his cock. Soft lips were gently pressed to your cheek, while you tried to catch your breath. Even though his thrusts were harsh, abusing your insides, he still handled you with care.

His pace didn’t falter as he was hunting his own release. Your body went limp, but he held you up on strong arms, moving you back on dick. And again, he filled you up with a huge amount of his seed. 

He actually stayed true to his word of not letting you sleep the whole night. When a faint light filtered through the windows, signaling the arrival of morning, you had just reached your 5th or 6th climax. You weren't even sure because, at some point, logical thoughts ceased to form in your head.

Feyd laid you down gently as your eyes were closed from tiredness. He had fetched a wet cloth to wipe you clean. The coolness was soothing against your feverish skin. After he finished, you felt the mattress sink in as he laid down next to you. Protective hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you close to his body. "Mine," he whispered softly and placed a tender kiss on your temple. If you weren't going to fall pregnant after this night, you didn’t even know what to believe in anymore. 

[elfwoodfae]

“No sin, no sinners”.

Bane x reader

NSFW MDNI

When Alfred leaves there’s not enough prayers for how much you ask him to take you with him. Of course he couldn’t do it, and Bruce would never allow it. Even if he had no right over it, over you. A brother who was gone the majority of your life and only when he came back to play villains and hero’s to recluse himself for the better of seven years in a grief. Leaving you once again alone, as lonely as one can get with a living dead under your roof.

There’s no tears left by the time Alfred is gone. No more sorrows as Bruce decides is better to simply go face Bane alone, believing the word of Selena, the words of a woman who would trade him like he meant nothing for the safety of a false promise; and Bruce, in his anger his bitterness had accepted it, gone and left you, left you alone, his ego and cockiness probing to be fatal when he was taken down, when he leaves you behind, alone in the manor. No doubt Talia had already given Bane and his men the location of the house, the location of where you were.

It comes as no surprise when they break into the house. His men rough and menacing, grabbing you as they find you, no time to hide, no time to react as they grab you. One hand on your arm the other on your head as one of them, a man with blue eyes and a stubble, grabs you, pushing your head on the nearest table. A grunt of protest escaping your lips as you try to kick back in vain, the man lifts his radio to his mouth, a quick “we got her” is all he says before it all goes dark.

Most of his life had proven to be mistake after mistake brought on by a life of high egos and hard heads. Mistakes that he came to recognize now, as Bane holds him over his body, his knee about to collide with his back as his last words finally sink in. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your sister.”

Your head is fuzzy, throbbing, all around you is dark, the room is hot, and as much as you try to make sense barely anything seems familiar. The man standing by your feet looks down at you as you move, turning around as he speaks. “She is awake boss” he says, your eyes following the trace of his as they land on the figure crouching down on the floor. His back is the first thing you notice, big, wide, and imposing. A scar that looks deep runs from his neck to under the seam of his pants. He needs no introduction, you are more than sure of who he is. Bane. Bruce had rambled on about him, he had taken his strength for granted and it had costed him everything.

“I told Mr. Wayne you would be my most honored guest. And I intend to keep in my word.” He says, his index finger pointing at me, the tone of his voice, it borderlines in sarcasm and the resonance of it due to the mask only amplifies the figure he presents. He knows who Batman is, that much is clear, as to what he will do with you is still a mystery, a game he will play until he becomes bore and goes to find a new toy.

Your eyes look up and down his body, his mask, your breathes coming in harsh puffs of air. “You are not scare of me” he states, although it sounds more like a question but you both know there’s no questions when it comes to him. “Good, it will make this all the more easier” He says, tilting his head and joining his hands together before he crouches down in front of you, his hand moving to your face, low in your jaw and for a brief of a second you are sure this is how you die. But nothing comes, he just takes a good look at you before telling one of his goons to lock you in one of the rooms down there and keep an eye on you at all times. In a sense it could be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t such a different character. He had kept good on his promise, none of his men had so much as to lay a finger on you, they kept you fed, they kept you clean and with enough dignity to not try to throw yourself off one of the multiple bridges in here.

Bane didn’t show up often, you ever barely saw him, barely ever heard of him. This men as brave and cuntless as they claimed to be were still as brute as they came when it came to basic things. Basic things like hygiene, like cooking, like healing wounds. Their organization system down here was a mess, and food came only when they remembered to eat.

It doesn’t take long for chaos to begin, there’s always someone, always a loose end you need to dispose of. All it took was one mistake. Getting out of the room you were locked in to go to the bathroom, the only one around, Bane had made sure out of the kindness of his heart that none of his men would go near you while you cleaned yourself. But there’s always one, one that doesn’t listen, one that tries to play it. The man approached you, he had been the one in charge of watching over you for the day, his eyes raking over your body, his hands lingering on your arm as he guided you towards the bathroom. It didn’t take long for him to try something, to try to grab you. A kick to his groin he didn’t expect bought you enough time to run, to run as fast you could until another of the goons stopped you, taking you directly to Bane, your disobedience wouldn’t go unpunished.

“Why are you here?” Bane asks, turning his head around slightly, his eyes on you. “Answer little bitch” the man barks, his foot pushing onto your back, a grunt escaping your lips as your body jerks forward. “I wasn’t asking her” Bane tells him, his tone ice cold, gripping the man by his neck before he speaks.

“Boss” he begins to say before the forceful push of fingers against his skin makes him go quiet.

“Why were you running Miss Wayne?” Bane asks, the tittle mocking on his tone. You don’t reply, your eyes cast towards the floor, looking at his booth, suddenly too interested in the shade of black they are.

“I asked you a question little one… did the cat got your tongue or should I get it myself?” He asks, the cracking of his voice through the mask feels like thunder in the air. Swallowing before finally looking up at him, meeting his eyes before you speak, a part of you sure he will have your tongue either way.

“One of the man tried to grope me.” His eyes don’t change expression at your words but his head nods along, as if he was really interested in your opinion. “Which one?” Is all he says, his hand still around the goons neck, it doesn’t seem to even cost him a breath to hold a man up in the air.

“I don’t know… he was at my door this morning.” You say, trying to recall anything to give away his identity. But Bane knows who, dropping the man on the floor and grabbing your arm to lift you up, dragging you along with him as he walks back to the hall where the rest of his mercenaries are, awaiting for what they think will be punishment for you.

“Brothers” the crackling noise of his voice breaks through the noise, his hands intertwining in front of him as he speaks. “This is my guest, we wouldn’t want her to think of us as savages now” he says, turning to you as he speaks, there’s a tension in the air, his words may seem measured and calm but there’s the underline of a promise there. “Come forward boy, let me see the hands she complained about” he says, the man who had tried to touch you moving up front, a slight fear in his eyes as he looks up at Bane. “You will be the perfect example. Now since you are so eager to be noticed.” Bane speaks, looking at the man, his eyes twisting slightly, a rage inside that seems to always be brewing.

“cut off his hands, let it be a lesson for all of you.” He says, turning around, the man protest, tries to plea but you find yourself looking away, the sound of a blade through skin and bone making your ears ring, your blood rushing cold. They knew now, not to touch you, not to look your way, you were Bane’s property, for whatever use that may had been it was common knowledge for everyone but you.

“There was no need..” you begin to say when he halts to a stop, your body almost colliding with the impossible expand of his back as he turns around, a head or two taller than you. “Would you rather I let them all touch you then?” He asks, there’s a borderline note of sarcasm in his words, the edge of a joke that never comes out but only a fool would know better than to ever disobey what he says.

Your eyes cast down, looking at the floor, he is right, he always is, in way, in this madness, he is the boss, the alpha, and if there’s one thing you know for certain is that no one here will touch what’s his. It isn’t much of a choice really. Bruce is gone, he left you, and as much of grief you want to give him there’s simply no more left, not when he has left you one too many times before, when you have already grieved him one too many times before. Seems in the end he was always the fastest of you both.

“What will you do with me?” You ask, words that leave you before you can measure the repercussions of asking him. The beat of your heart too loud in your ears. You need to know, need to find out what he has plan for you before you loose what’s left of your sanity, and if there’s no use for you, then you must make one, find one before he decides to throw you like a bone for his dogs to eat. The choices are few but they are clear, Bruce left you to his mercy, but maybe it will be what saves you in the end.

He simply looks at you, his head turning to side eye you, there’s in reality no use to your existence other than of torturing what was left of the Batman, you have nothing to offer him, nothing he can think of, but maybe that is the problem, he can’t think of anything, because his mind has been clouded lately, has been on the edge of a knife. He knows, he knows how Talia thinks, how she acts, he knows by now she didn’t take any consideration into his feelings when she accepted Wayne’s offer, when she so smoothly leaned into his bed. Her point had been to hurt Wayne but in the end, the betrayal had tasted bitter in his tongue, she was all he had for certain, all he had ever needed. But that was the funny thing of love. It was only him loving her, feeding himself off the promise of her touch for far too long, a touch she gave to keep him in control, a wild animal on a cage is still just as wild, if only ever more dangerous.

Bane leans down on his desk, one of his hands lift to signal something and one of his man comes to move you, get you out of his sight. It wouldn’t do you good to irritate him. The walk to the room is quiet, but you notice none of the man even lift his eyes to look your way. The lesson was taught.

A sigh escapes your lips as the door behind you closes, the room feels slightly cold, it smells of humidity, but all in all it could be worse. There’s a bed with enough blankets to not be cold, and at least there’s light. It’s better than sleeping in between all the mercenaries as you have seen them do. It’s torturous, maddening, to be locked in this place with nothing to do, no hope to even escape with how tight he runs this place. And certainly no hero to come rescue you, perhaps this time there won’t be salvation, but if you must live in this hell you will make sure is the devil who protects you, there weren’t virgins in hell for a reason, they all needed to give up something to be saved.

The closest to freedom you will ever get will come from how far he lets off your leash, and Bane doesn’t seem the kind to let his animals run wild. You only need a chance, a moment, let him find the use in you, let him find a purpose to keep you here. He is a man after all, and there’s only one thing that can make a man grow weak, even if none will admit it.

Opportunities don’t arise in a place like this, and so you must create them yourself. Opening the door to your room the guard informs you is time to bathe, grabbing the one towel you have been given you make your way to the common bathroom. It’s disgusting, dirty and beyond repugnant but it’s better than nothing. You have been wearing the same clothes for days, weeks even; turning around before you enter the bathroom your head turns to the man, fingers crossed and a silent prayer that this action will set in motion a bigger way for you.

“could you ask Bane for clothes? I cannot keep wearing the same ones over and over”

“You are always free to walk around naked sweetheart” the man smirks, clearly not taking you seriously. “Maybe we should ask Bane what he thinks of the idea, I know he will be thrilled to know what his men are suggesting” you speak, a calm victory when the man’s smirk drops off his face, if the hand incident had taught them anything it was not to mess with what Bane was keeping safe. “Will you ask him or would you rather I walk to his office, naked, as you suggested and see what he thinks about it?” You ask, a condescending tone to your voice.

You aren’t sure what you would prefer, if the clothes or the nakedness, the second one would make this all the more easier.

The man speaks on the radio, his voice echoing to Bane my request, and you know you have won when he rolls his eyes as he speaks “Boss says to take you to his office, let’s go” he begins walking, making sure you are moving in front of him, the end of his gun always within reach of your back.

Two knocks come from the man before he is told to come in, pushing you in slightly as he stays outside, sending you into the mouth of the wolf.

“I hear the little bird is complaining” His metallic voice reaches your ears, his hands on the table as he looks over some papers.

“I can’t keep wearing this same clothes over again” you say, the tone of your voice slightly shaking until you find your footing. How bad could it be, how bad of a person would it make you, desperation was a funny thing when your life hanged by a threat.

His eyes move to you, and before he can speak your words cut through him, “I could always parade myself naked around, I don’t think your men would mind although some of them may loose more hands.” There’s a confidence in your voice that only fear can bring out. His eyes move to your face, staying there as he studies you. He is well aware you aren’t bluffing, he sits back down on his chair, his hands resting on his desk, fingers intertwined. “I didn’t think the little bird had it in her to make demands, not that she is in a position to place them” he speaks, calm, collected.

Your hands are sweating, your heart has either stopped beating or is beating so hard you can no longer feel it.

He gets up, walking around his desk, heavy footsteps resonating in the room, the hand at the front of his desk moving to grip your chin, gripping it tight, forcing your face to look up at him. “There’s no free entrance at this circus little one, you have to find a way to pay or you are out” He says, and you know in his words he means that even if he has you alive for a reason, he could easily throw you aside, find a darker future for you. Your eyes remain fixed on his, there’s a burning hatred festering behind them, a festering need to hurt that you can’t seem to place or hold. His hand moves, from your chin, slightly making their way over your jaw, resting on your cheek, his thumb settling under your bottom lip. He is testing, seeing how far you will allow, even when you both know he has all the power here.

Is this truly what you have come to be? What has come to be of you? The whore of a criminal, but who was anyone to judge you, if it meant staying alive, if it meant keeping some of the sanity you were slowly loosing.

When you don’t move, don’t flinch away or avert your eyes from him, he takes it as his sign, the sign to see just how much advantage he can have, how deep could the wound he wants to inflict be. An eye for an eye. Bruce had Talia, now he would have you. The way he could taste the sweet pain it would cause you. His hand moves softly, the feel of his callous fingers on your cheeks make something akin to tears gather in your eyes that he gracefully ignores. His hand moves to the side of your face, a perfect placement between your neck and the bottom of your head, and he pushes down, his other hand moving to the belt of his pants. You aren’t stupid, you know what he wants, what he is asking of you, and you know there’s a way out, refuse him and he will leave you alone, lock in that room where you won’t see another day. He pushes you lower until your knees hit the floor, his hand unbuttoning his pants, pulling himself out of his underwear, leaving it resting against the black cargo pants he is wearing as his hand moves to the opposite side of your head, both of his hands engulfing your head, a silent thread, that if you so much as to try anything he will undoubtedly break your neck. And you don’t doubt it, you don’t doubt he wouldn’t even consider it twice before snapping you in two.

Your eyes move to his, not out of obedience but out of silent permission to take him in your hand, he looks at you, expectantly, guiding your head slowly, his thumb moving under your bottom lip to feel as you open your mouth. Your hand moves to grip him, semi hard, the foreskin hiding the bead of precum already at the tip, thicker than you thought but what could you expect for a man his size. You are terrified, terrified of not liking it, of gagging, of not being able to handle the taste. God knows when he took a shower last.

It comes as a surprise when you finally wrap him around your hand and put your lips to him, it’s not exactly flowers and candy but it isn’t as displeasing as you thought it would be. Slightly salty, a little tart as you push with your hand his foreskin slightly back to push your tongue under him, cushioning him as you took him further into your mouth, the cracking sound of his breathing coming through the mask, the rhythm of it changed. His eyes don’t leave yours, his chest rises and falls as you look up at him, shifting on your knees slightly to get more comfortable. He urges your head forward when he decides you are taking too long to do it yourself, pushing all the way in until his head hits the back of your throat, a grunt escaping him as he throws his head back slightly. You can feel him growing in your mouth, stretching your lips around him as he pushes further down, and it takes all of you not to gag, your hand moving to his thigh, the muscle taunt.

You move your head back, letting the tip come to your lips before continuing down until all of him is sheltered in your throat, tears and gag be damned, everything be damned when his neck looks so big and his veins pop so deliciously. You can feel the pulse of his cock, the underside of it protuberant with veins, now that he is fully hard you can feel the way it curves to the side, pushing into your cheek. His stomach heaves with every breath he takes, a visible vein traveling from the low cut of his hips to the inside of his vest. Your mouth keeps moving, taking every detail of him you can. There’s a low growing sensation rising from your core, a wetness forming between your legs, and it’s not precisely out of want but out of the power trip it gives you to have such a powerful man rocking his hips into your mouth, the soft hairs at the base of his crotch caressing your nose.

Your hands move higher on his legs, moving to his hips, exposed by his pants, your nails softly tickling his skin and a broken grunt escapes him through the mask, his hands squeezing agonizingly hard at your head, pushing you to move faster, he can feel himself growing hotter, the tingling sensation in his lower back warning him, the tightening of his balls as he grunts, sloppily guiding your head now, controlling how much and how deep you drag him as he grunts, beginning to come inside of your mouth, pushing your head all the way until you feel his pelvis at your nose as he keeps pushing, making sure you take all of it, you swallow all of him. His fingers involuntarily had started to knead at your scalp, stopping and pulling you off of him roughly by your hair. He can see the shine of saliva and his cum in your lips as you stare at him, waiting, expecting to know if you passed the imaginary test.

He moves his hands from you, slight out of breath to he speaks, putting himself back into his pants.

“Clean yourself, you will have some clothes tomorrow.”

Somehow the dynamic changes, your meals get delivered in better timing, your showers are slightly longer, and from time to time one of his goons come to get you, to take you to his office where you spend the next couple of minutes praying on your knees. Never getting anything in return, not physical at least but you are okay with that, or so you tell yourself; until you find it hard, hard to focus, to concentrate, every time you shower your mind starts to slip, to think of him, of his callous hands. Your mind plays tricks on you, everytime he is inside your mouth wondering if maybe today is the day he will give something in return, that perhaps if you do it extra nice he will reward you. How indeed the roles have twisted. It must be the weeks piling up in solitude down here.

You don’t see him for nearly a week, a week where you eat, shower, sleep and repeat. Not so much of a word from the goon at your door, not that you would ask him anyways, but you have to wonder if it’s that he found another entertainment or that he simply lost interest. It’s neither or, he is simply too busy, the expansion of his plan moving forward, his men hard at work, Gotham is slowly falling into his hands, into despair. So it comes as a surprise to you when you are awaken in the middle of the night. One of his men opening the door, barging in to get you. Hauling you off the bed before making you walk barefoot through the hallways, shirt you use to sleep in hanging off your shoulder, sleep in clear in your face as you make your way to a place you have never been before, a door that you know for a fact isn’t his office. Two knocks rasp against the door before his voice comes through, the metallic sound of it sending chills down your spine as the man opens the door and pushes you in.

It’s his room you realize, looking around, it’s cold, dark and empty. Only a bed, big enough to fit him, a desk and a chair. A door is adjacent to it, a bathroom you presume, but what catches your attention is the man sitting at the foot of the bed. His pants the only thing on his body beside his mask. He is looking down onto the floor, his knees parted and his hands on each of them, waiting for your place in between them. It’s a silent transaction this time, he doesn’t speak, barely breathes as you kneel down, waiting for the permission his eyes give you before opening his pants. He is too quiet, so calm that something must be very wrong. He doesn’t usually call for you at night, even less in the middle of it and you know better than to ask him. Swallowing softly as you begin to work, to lick him, suck him, anything to take the frown off his face. But he doesn’t even seem to be enjoying it. His hand moves to your hair, pulling you off of him, your eyebrows kneading together in a silent question, but he doesn’t say anything, simply pulling you to him, your body in between his legs, one of his hands in your lower back, a sight that sounds too tired leaving his mask. “Lay down” is all he says, and a small fear settles in your bones, this isn’t how you want him to do it, this isn’t what you thought about.

But you know better than to ask, simply laying down on the bed, watching as he puts himself back into his pants, moving over to the door that leads to the bathroom. He returns not long after, mask still on his face, his pants still on, but he removes his boots, laying down on the bed, next to you, he doesn’t touch you, doesn’t even look your way but you understand, to a certain level that maybe this is the closest to affection he has ever received, even if he has to force it out of you. Turning to your side you close your eyes, it feels tense, the air slightly charged of an unknown feeling you don’t feel ready to disclose, words you want to speak but your mouth refuses to ask. Sleep soon claims you, taking you down as he looks at you, looks over your sleeping form, taking the details on your face. You would never know this, not that you would ask and he certainly wouldn’t tell you, but that night, along with what’s left of his humanity, he had lost part of the sanity he had left; she was never going to take him with her, she was ready to let him die, to leave him behind when the bomb detonated, Talia never meant to take him, it had all been a game she played, of soft words and night shared, she only needed him to build this empire of chaos for her, never planing to allow him to live it by her.

He falls asleep to festering thoughts of murder and chaos, of hurt and betrayal. But the dreams do not appear that night, the nightmares, the pit, the woman and the child, those ghosts of the past don’t visit him tonight. The only thing he can feel his the soft way you breathe, the way you smell, the warmth of your body, it makes him wish you were to never leave his bed, to never leave his room. He wants to lock you in, to keep you here where you can never betray him, where no matter what he knows he will always have you. A simple dream, an innocent one that men like him won’t ever be allowed. He wants to touch you, he craves it every time your body is between his legs, down on your knees, but he doesn’t deserve it, you didn’t belong to the darkness, you didn’t belong to the pain he knew his world brought, but still, he is selfish, selfish enough to keep you, but the one thing he won’t allow himself is to touch you, to erase Talia’s touch out of his body, even if to her he was simply a means to an end. But he knows deep down, somewhere on what’s left of his sanity, of his heart, there shouldn’t be sinners in a house of God, the way his hands shouldn’t be allowed to worship your body.

Awakening in his bed had been confusing, it smelled of him, sweat and aftershave. Looking around you sit up, noticing that he is gone, the room is empty, but there’s a tray of food in the desk and you can see your things around his room, your shoes, the few items of clothes you had, all located somewhere within this room.

Moving out of the bed you slowly make your way to the bathroom, cleaner than the common one, few items of clothing thrown around the floor, a few personal objects around the sink. There’s an extra toothbrush, and soap, frowning you realize is the one you had back in your room, the one he had given you when he brought you down here.

There’s a slight tremor to your movements as you open the door, peaking your head outside to find one of his men there, “Why… why are my things in here?” You ask, as if he would know the answer, but he simply shakes his head, asking through the radio something before answering you. “You are moving to this room.” He says matter of factly, moving to Banes room with him you assume, because otherwise it wouldn’t make any sense. Nodding your head you move back inside the room, looking around, he has few books, barely any but one of them calls your attention, enough to distract you, it was better than the nothingness you had before.

Bane doesn’t go to the room during the day, until very late at night. You don’t actually see him and not that you would complain, but there’s a certain warmth, a certain feeling that wraps around your body when the occasion occurs, when you wake up so late into the night the sunrise could be close by and you feel him, next to you, his arm next to your body, almost touching you, but the clear weight of his body on the bed is present next to you. The feel of him, warm, his breathing soft and for those seconds some resemblance of safety, of normality comes over you.

Strangely enough he hasn’t asked for you anymore, either too busy with his plans or simply not needing it, or receiving it from someone else, your mind tells you, unlikely but always a possibility. It makes a slow bitter taste simmer deep in your stomach, he isn’t yours by any means, and is not as if you want him to be, but the idea of someone else seeing him as you did brings festering feelings you don’t want to dwell on. It must be the entrapment, the claustrophobic nature of being in the same place for weeks on end, what is making your sanity escape out the door, what is making you miss him, crave the affection even as slim as it was. His threatening touches feeling like a feast when you have been starved of affection for so long.

The soft sound of water awakes you, the room dark except for the soft caress of yellow coming off the semi open bathroom door. Then you hear it, water running from the faucet most likely, and the sound of someone spitting reaches your ears. Spitting. Spitting. Spitting off their mouth. Bane can’t spit, unless….

Unless his mask was off, his mask, he had taken it off. It’s a realization that shouldn’t make your stomach burn in nerves and your toes go numb. Trying to regulate your breathing as to not give away you have awaken but in the end is unlike you will fall back asleep now. It smells slightly of soap, of water, a humidity in the air that gives away he must have taken a shower. And it makes all kind of thoughts run through your head. His footsteps approach the bed as he turns off the light in the bathroom, your cue to close your eyes again.

“I know you are awake little birdie.” He says, his voice sounds soft, unfiltered, his words slightly slurred, slightly mingled.

Swallowing you open your eyes, the room is so dark it makes no difference. Turning around you try to figure out where he is standing but it’s in vain; “does it hurt?” You ask him softly, your voice heavy with sleep. “To have it off I mean” you clarify, but he knows exactly what you had meant.

“It does,” he says, calm, softly, it’s the most the two of you have talked in weeks. Moving around in the bed, feeling your way around with your hand to try and find the edge, you kneel, getting up to try and reach his height.

“You are quiet tonight.” It’s the closest attempt to a joke you can make, out of place, with no humor but this is the first time you have seen him in weeks and you don’t want to let him slip through your fingers for god knows how long again.

“Is the lack of entertainment a complain you want to place?” He asks, the note of sarcasm his mask provides is gone, the electric feeling he gives disappears, leaving behind the dry air of his words. You shake your head, aware that he can’t see you but it felt almost natural to do so. “A man could think that you miss him.” He says, and you can feel his eyes looking at you, searching your face, the darkness will never be an impediment for him.

“Can I touch you?” Your words are soft, your breath warm agains his chest, your hand already half way in the air, moving slow enough to give him time to stop you if he wants. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch when your hand makes contact with his face, touching his cheek, your fingers slotting perfectly around his jaw. The skin feels rough, bumpy, like ragged scars that never fully healed. Your thumb moves, moving to his chin, finding soft broken lips, full and lumpy, and he swallows when the pad of your finger finds his bottom lip, caressing the marred flesh, the nerves under his skin crying in protest.

“Careful” he barks out, not loud enough to startle you but enough to give you a warning.

“Go back to sleep little bird.” He commands, grabbing your wrist, removing your hand from his face, turning around to get his mask and once again securing it over his face, the hum of his breathing audible in the air.

He begins to move towards the bed, and you move away, moving to your side of it, laying on your side, the bed dipping slightly when he lays down on it. He stays quiet, you don’t know if he is awake but you won’t check either, but as for you, you remain alert, all through the night, your fingers itch and your mind won’t quiet down. All of your thoughts are consumed by him.

His mood isn’t the best since the day started, and it for sure soured now that Talia walked in his makeshift office. His eyes drop at her presence, disdain and some measure of pain tantalizing his mind. But he knows, he knows deep down he could never lay a finger on her, not even if she threw him out the board like he meant nothing.

“I will be taking the girl with me, I have plans for her” she says, and he knows she means plans to make her an example, to display her corpse or worse, when he doesn’t reply right away, like a good dog on a leash her eyebrows frown in his direction. Suspicion crawling into her mind.

“I am afraid that is not happening.” His tone is cold, colder that she has ever heard him speak to her. It makes the nerves on her stomach twist, the cruel realization that she is loosing her grip on him settling in her bones.

“You are giving her to me, she is part of our plan, our fire, my love we need to destroy all the loose ends.” She tries, softening her words, her eyes soft, her hands moving to his over his desk, but his fingers don’t even flinch, they don’t grab hers to hold them as they used to. She is slowly but surely loosing him.

“You are not taking her. I have business to attend, you better take your leave.” It shocks her, makes her blood run cold. Her protector, her safety, leaving her behind, she has lost the ability to use him to her every whim and desire.

She leaves, anger coursing through her, a pain she hasn’t expected settles in her chest. She leaves the hideout, and she knows better than betray him, than to do anything stupid now, he is rabid, and pained, an unpredictable dog that could end up costing her everything.

He sits back on his chair, hands over his head, his fingers intertwined. A deep sigh leaving his mask, he has come to realize the pain of Talia’s betrayal has dulled to a calm numbing sensation. Your words from the other night coming back to his mind, your hands on his face. It’s been a long time since anyone has touched his bare face, since anyone has felt his skin. It sends a chill down his spine to think of you, to think of how you came to him, how slowly that fear you harbored for him has transformed into something else, into a feeling he doesn’t dare put even near close to caring. He would never deserve to touch you, to feel the softness of your body, the warmth it could provide him.

It makes him numb, it makes him worried, worried that your presence has become a testament of his sanity. If he were to ever loose control of your company, it would send him into a spiral he isn’t ready to discuss yet.

He returns to the room late at night, tired, his body aches and his head throbs. He removes his mask, he needs air, real air. Making his way to the bathroom he looks over at you. He knows you are awake as soon as he enters the room again, even in the darkness he can feel your breathing. You were waiting for him, a softness to your voice as you speak.

“Bane?” It’s the first time you have said his name, your voice soft, a whisper. He wants to pull away, to simply stop your hand from reaching him but it’s too late, the soft caress on his skin is like electrical shock through his system.

“Little bird…” he tries to warn you, his voice tired, rough, a pain in it only those who have had nothing can understand.

Your hand moves lower, tracing the shape of his neck, your fingers meeting the dip of his collarbones, your eyes never leaving his. His throat swells around a swallow, your hands tracing soft patterns over his chest, his shirt long forgotten. Your other hand settles on his cheek, your face moving towards his, slowly, giving him time to retract if he wants to, but he doesn’t, he allows your closeness, your nose caressing his and the soft breath that escapes him when your lips meet his bumpy ones is not lost to you. For such a powerful man he is sure as heavens falling apart in your arms.

His kiss is soft, shy almost, his lips unsure of how to move and it dwells on you that perhaps he hasn’t been kissed many times before. Your body presses against his, his hand moving painfully slow to your waist, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt, like he is scare he will hurt you. Your lips open slightly, your tongue tracing his bottom one, waiting for him to allow you in; the hot soft muscle meets yours, his kiss is slow, sensual even, the way his tongue shyly pulls you into his mouth, like a trap in which at any moment he will snap his teeth and bite you. But it doesn’t happen, he simply kisses you, he kisses you like a man who has been starved of water for too long. He lets you undress him, he lets you feel him, he allows you to tear him open, skin to bone, taking all the slow pieces of him, destroying him until he is nothing in your hands, and only then, he feels at home.

When your hand move to the button of his pants a low growl escapes his lips. You pull him towards you, crawling backwards on the bed and bringing his body down with you. His arms cage in your face, your hands working to open his pants. It’s a silent exchange, words are not needed, not when his eyes speak so loud. His hands move under your shirt, feeling the skin of your stomach, finding their path forward towards your breast, squeezing the flesh, a groan escapes him, and he isn’t prepared for how delicious you would feel in his hands. Wiggling his hips to help you put his pants down, taking his underwear down with them. His lips find your neck, soft kisses and nips marking your skin, his hand moving to remove your shirt, the need to feel your skin against his overwhelming his senses. He moves away from you simply to remove his pants completely. Moving over you again, this time completely naked as his hands move over your thighs, gripping the edge of your underwear and pulling it down, his eyes trained on the treasure he finds there, his pupils dilating when he sees the shine of your wetness for him.

He moves over you again, his hands holding your leg, the muscles of your thigh burning as he makes space for his hips in between your legs. His thumb moves over the skin under your navel, before moving lower, the pad of it softly grazing over you, feeling how moist and hot it is. Your hand moves next to your face, your finger catching in between your lips as you look at his hand moving over you, your eyes half lidded as he teases your clit, tracing a line up and down over it with his finger.

A whimper escapes you, your eyes closing when his pointer finger enters you, a groan escaping his lips when he feels the tightness inside of you.

“This is what you do little bird, you rip open what’s left of my sanity.” He growls, his middle finger joining the other inside, opening them in a scissoring motion as your back arches slightly.

For how gentle he is being he is awfully impatient, the vein on his neck prominent as he moves over you better, his eyes moving to your face, he doesn’t want to miss any of your facial expressions as he grabs himself with his other hand, opening his fingers once again inside of you before he pushes them down, stretching you open, pushing himself inside of you at the same time that his fingers remain buried in your heat. A cry leaves your lips as he begins to settle in, the burn of the stretch is a maddening threat between pleasure and pain, your hand flying to his forearm as he keeps pushing in, only stopping when he is settled completely in. He loves the way your face breaks, how your eyebrows are furrowed. He moves his fingers out of you, leaning over you completely as his hand holds your face, the other moving over your head and his lips collide with yours as his hips begin to move, hard and deep, he takes himself all the way to the tip before slamming in again, and the weight of him over you feels suffocating, his hand moving down your back, until he finds the curve of your lower back, his hands gripping the skin there, drawing you to him, deepening himself as much as he can into you.

It’s a pleasure he hadn’t experienced before, the soft cries and quiet touches, how your face breaks and you put your hands over his shoulders, how he can basically feel himself so deep inside of you he swears he can feel your heartbeat every time he thrust deep into you. It’s nothing like he has done before, with Talia it had always been fast and hard movements, no soft touches, no kisses, no cries of pleasure. It makes him feel like he has missed the point of living until he stumbled upon you.

“Light in my eyes…” he murmurs as you writhe absolutely wrecked under him. His lips on your neck, on your cheek, on your mouth, claiming you in a possessive kiss that threatens to break you apart.

His hand moves down your stomach, his fingers trapping your clit between them as he pinches it, a cry escaping you as he massages it, playing with it, feeling how you squeeze him, how you tighten around him.

“D…don’t stop… gods don’t stop” you beg him, feeling the coiling sensation rising inside of you, the warmth threatening to spill and take you over the edge.

Bane’s eyes never leave your face, a growl adorning his lips as his fingers move, the muscles in his arm taunt and his hips relentlessly connect to yours. He feels it, how you squeeze him, how your body swallows him in and refuses to let him go, your back arching off the bed as you come apart in his arms.

His hips keep moving, his pace faster. He hides his face in your neck, his arms tightening around you as he moves, sloppier, his mouth opening in a silent cry when the feeling in his lower back snaps, the pleasure coursing through his veins as he begins to come, your hand reach for the back of his neck, holding him, afraid he may disappear; his hips slow down, his movements uneven as he comes back from the high of his orgasm.

He holds you, not moving at all from you, not even letting you get up, it’s like a new vice he discovered, a new drug he can’t let go of his system anymore. You are the venom that curses through his veins, that alleviates his pain, the only thing in this world he refuses to let go off now. It doesn’t matter what happens with Gotham or the future, wherever he goes he will take you with him, it doesn’t matter to him if he has to tear cities apart to keep you by his side, even if he has to threaten the whole world just so you stay. It’s a shame, a tragedy. The moment his eyes fly open and the realization dawns upon him, a fragment of his broken mind. A hope to have some light in the dark, and maybe, if life was to ever be kind to him, someday he will have you willingly giving yourself to him.

[filmtv2022]

Part II: Our Time is Limited (18+)

Part One

Pairing: Geta x reader & platonic!Caracalla x reader

Synopsis: Geta and you deal with the aftermath of Caracalla's outburst, finding comfort in each other. Not only is there Caracalla's illness to attend to, but those who surround the emperors are growing more and more weary of their reign. As loyalty wanes, so does the inner circle's patience with your ever-constant presence and the emperors' hot tempers. With so much at stake the balance between keeping the peace and protecting those you love becomes muddy.

Warnings: sexual activity/smut + alcohol consumption + wounds/wound care

A/N: Well, this took a while to write, and I feel like there is more I want to add to this story. So, be on the lookout for part 3 (There may even be a few more parts if it continues to be well received)! I truly cannot say how thankful I am for the response to part 1. I felt the love for sure! So thank you to everyone who read that and has stuck with me here! And as always, please forgive me for any and all mistakes. We're going for a "fun" time... not always a historically accurate time!

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No light apart from the moon illuminated the grand bed chamber of the emperor upon your waking. Depending on how it was considered, the hour was either incredibly early or late. No sound could be heard from the hall or the open balcony. The silence should have been comforting, but a nagging pit in your stomach kept you from returning to sleep. A chill had collected in the air. Reprieve from its sting came in the form of Geta’s study frame tangled with yours beneath the luscious sheets. His body produced heat like a raging fire whose flames were fed with rage and the desperate clamber for power.

His protective warmth painted your skin in a heavy flush. Your head tipped back to stare at the man whose body melded with yours in a way that surely must have been crafted by the gods. Like this, lost to sleep, Geta’s youth was easy to see. The healthy glow of his unmarred skin was alluring, drawing your hand from under the covers you traced delicate patterns over his toned chest. Tension in your hip forced you to adjust yourself. Shifting your weight, you accidentally brushed the wound on your cheek. The sudden flash of fresh pain rippled in erratic shocks down the tender column of your throat causing you to hiss. Beside you, Geta stirred in his sleep. 

Uncomfortable and fighting back the multitude of possibilities that flooded your mind, you gave in to the reality that returning to sleep was growing less and less likely. Prone to fitful sleep, even with the sedative, Caracalla was sure to begin fighting his forced slumber sooner rather than later. As carefully as you could, you tried to extricate yourself from Geta’s embrace. You’d managed to free your bare thighs from between his own when the groggy grumble of his voice stopped you cold. 

“Where are you going?” He reached for you, hauling you back before finally opening his eyes. Your chest sat flush with his, and your good cheek rested on him, as his feather-light touch sought any part of you he could reach. The shapes he drew were hypnotizing, jumbling the words in your head. Concerned by your lack of reply, Geta rolled you on your back, allowing him to see your entire face as he rested his weight over part of your body. “It’s early. Stay with me a few hours more.” 

“You know as well as I do the fickle nature of the sedative. I do not wish for him to wake alone. He can be… He can be so scared and lost without a familiar face to ground him when he comes to.” Messy strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tempting you to fix them. With a ghosting touch, you brushed them away from his face. The rich hue of his eyes followed your every move. 

“And you will be there when he needs you, but that is not now. For now, I need you… here… in my bed.” He followed his thought with the trail lips between your breasts. Each graze was accompanied by a tender bite, leaving behind more evidence of the night only he’d be blessed enough to see.  Geta continued to move lower, tasting every inch of skin he could find before pausing to look back at you through hooded lids. The arch of your spine sent heat washing over him.

Struggling to breathe properly, you reached for any part of him you could find. The flare of pleasure that overtook you as Geta came closer to where you wanted him was blinding. With eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t keep the huff of laughter from escaping as you spoke, “You are insatiable, emperor.” 

Nipping at your hipbone he murmured against flushed skin. “I am making up for lost time.” Threading your deft fingers through his messy copper locks, you gripped at the root and tugged roughly earning you a delicious hum. Geta's focus became entirely on drawing those delicious noises from you once more, and to that end he was successful. Gooseflesh ran over your body as chilled air drifted all around. With nothing between you and the emperor, you fell completely to his mercy and desire. 

Geta’s shoulders dipped lower allowing him to wrap one defined arm around your thigh while the other explored the marks he’d created earlier. From his position, he could feel the way your body quaked under his touch. The power he had over you with just the help of his tongue and calloused fingers threw every unwanted thought and worry to the side. This was all he wanted, all he’d ever desired. What once remained fantasy was now freely given. 

A particularly well-placed kiss had you rolling your hips searching for more. Geta’s teasing no longer satisfied the well of lust that threatened to drown you alive. On instinct, your hold tightened, hauling a rumbling groan from him that nearly eclipsed the pitful whimper in which you begged.

“Geta… Please…”

Skimming along your body with his own, he felt the buttery expanse of your skin. Your pebbled breasts pressed into his chest as his breath ghosted in your ear. “Use your words, tell me what you crave.”

“I want you. I want to feel-.” You were cut off by the drag of his fingertips along your most sensitive of skin. The nerves there fired in quick succession, leaving you to focus on the journey his mouth took along the slope of your shoulder. Unsatisfied, yearning for the weight of him, you reached between you. The fragile strength of your trembling fingers wrapped around his cock. Rolling your wrist, Geta shivered. His hips twitched ruining his self-control.

“Then you shall have me.” Were it not for his desperation to fulfill your every wish, he could have stayed like this and let you bring him to his release with just the delectable skill of your hand. Without fanfare, Geta moved quickly, the firm press of him hard against your core had you moaning in anticipation. His lips captured yours in a devouring kiss pulling the focus from the pressure that built as he pressed into you. Your plush walls spasmed in time with the roll of his hips into your own. Tongues and teeth clashed in a fight for control. Even here, where he felt the most vulnerable as if his soul was laid bare for you to consume, he clung to the power that acted as a crutch in his daily life. But the fight was a losing battle.

Geta’s eye fluttered shut, closing him off from you as he buried his countenance into the crook of your neck, and that simply wouldn’t do. You knew this part of him, the boy, now man, that retreated inside himself when things grew too much.  The bold and confident facade he put on for the public was a disguise that few had been able to decipher... apart from you. Tenderly, you traced the length of his spine, paying attention to the way he shuddered under your touch. Much softer than before, you wound your fingers through his hair while guiding his brow to your own.

“Look at me. Do not hide from me now.”  Your words enveloped him, easing him back to the present and away from whatever tried to steal him from you. Carefully Geta met your eyes. Their normal severity was absent, replaced with the soft haze of adoration. 

“I love you.” The tender confession tumbled from your lips, and the truth of it shattered the last vestiges of the barrier that ran between you. All walls had been abandoned. The steady snap of his thrusts brought the pair of you closer to oblivion. Together you fell, the steady crash of energy over every nerve filled the space with heady moans of pleasure. 

Too soon for your liking the moment waned, leaving you breathless and weak beneath him. Geta rested his weight along his forearms to prevent crushing you. From his position, he watched a new line of crimson spill down your cheek. The sight of it brought a flood of unwanted emotions swirling in his stomach.

“You're bleeding again.” His voice wobbled with exhaustion and worry. The thick pad of his thumb brushed away the evidence, smearing the dried blood from hours before with the bright hue of that which flowed currently. From this proximity, Geta got a truer picture of your condition. Deep patches of black and purple bloomed across your cheek and brow, but that was not what fumbled the rhythm of his heart.

The hidden outline of fingers around the base of your throat undid him. Masked by the layer of dried ichor that coated your throat he saw the depth of his brother’s illness. Never had he imagined Caracalla would be capable of hurting you in this way. The slice of a blade had been beyond reason, but his hand around your throat… that was unconscionable. 

Rage burned hot, the flare of his nostrils timed with the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he tried to calm himself. You knew without a doubt the thoughts that sped through his mind. Anger, disbelief, sorrow but most of fury. “I will never let him lay his hands upon you again.” 

“Please, don’t make promises you can’t keep, Geta.” Something new flashed in his eyes as he looked down at you, and the sight of it broke tender and soft. “Even you cannot keep me safe from him, not entirely. I want to believe that everything wrong about our lives will right itself in time, but that is a childish, fool-hardy thought. Even you cannot deny that.”

“Why? This is… what we share… Why cannot we find a way out of this mess together? Shouldn’t we be allowed happiness?” The same reasoning from the night before returned. A pitiful well of dampness pooled at the corners of his eyes. The dejected young man who looked to others for reassurance in everything he did bore himself to you fully.  “I can keep you safe. Do you trust me?” 

“With my life.” You reached for him, pulling his lips to yours in a sympathetic and calming embrace. It lasted just long enough for his breathing to settle and his mind to slow. Gently, Geta shifted his weight away from your body giving you space to recover. Torn from his steadying presence, you rolled onto your side following him with your gaze as he slipped from the bed. He pulled a robe from the floor and wrapped it around himself.  Exhaustion crossed your vision and dulled your mind, lulling you closer to sleep. Only the gentle clink of glass against glass kept you from falling away entirely.  

Geta returned to you quickly, his hands full of what appeared to be vials of acetum and honey, two clean cloths resting over his wrist. Finding a spot to deposit the vials on the bed, he took one of the rags. With some hesitation, he reached between your plush thighs, wiping away the mess the pair of you'd made. The sudden jolt of your hips as he reached your core slowed his hand, easing the strength with which he worked. Your weight settled back into the plush sheets as he finished and discarded the cloth upon the flood.

“Sit up.” His words were tender,  holding none of the desperation from before. Following his command,  you lifted yourself from the comfort of the bed, the sheets crumpled further under your movement. Geta’s eyes raked over your body, admiring the swell of your bare breasts and the curve of your waist. A glint of something more akin to lust was shown briefly before he settled into the space next to you. With practiced care and thoughtful hands, the emperor cleansed your wounds and removed the remnants of dried blood. Your focus never left his face as he worked. Instead, you took the time to memorize the tug of concentration between his brows. Deep lines formed there creating a picture of what was to come, of an older Geta, of an emperor marked by the passage of time. You prayed the gods would favor you, for that was a vision you prayed to see in person. 

“There, that’s better.” Geta twisted to discard the vials and cloth upon the nearby stand. “Come, let us sleep. The day is sure to be long enough without the edge of weariness dulling our minds.” 

Slowly, you sank back into each other’s arms, your bodies together in perfect harmony as sleep overtook the pair of you.

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Fresh morning light seeped into the sea of curtains around the bed chamber. Were it not for the pressing knaw of anxiety, you’d have happily stayed curled in Geta’s arms. But that was not a possibility. Knowing that time was running short to return to Caracalla before he woke, you extricated yourself from the comfort of your lover's embrace. 

The marble was startlingly cold beneath your feet forcing you to work quickly to find your discarded robe. The memory of the night before was stunningly clear making it easy to find your blood-stained clothes. Stooping, you grabbed the creamy fabric, shoving your arms inside before tying it tightly around your waist. 

You chanced a glance over your shoulder at Geta who was still peaceful in his bed. Without further hesitation, you disengaged the lock and made your way into the mostly empty hall. Only two guards remained posted to protect the emperor. Thankfully, the comings and goings of women from Geta’s chamber were nothing new. Your presence there may have been different from the norm, but it was hardly shocking given the previous night’s difficulties. 

Your bare footsteps, pounded down the hallway toward Caracalla, praying to the gods that you’d find him asleep. Rounding the corner, you watched as the guards parted to allow you into the room. There were no questions or need to exchange words, this room had been your home for more than a decade. Not a soul would question your presence inside. 

Caracalla’s living quarters were nearly as extravagant as his brothers. The only strange addition was that of his pet monkey who sat alert on the table, gnawing at the fresh fruit that had been placed there the night before for his consumption. Dundus chirped at your arrival, announcing it to his still-slumbering owner. Curled in a ball on his side, the emperor lay oddly upon the covers.

There was nothing comfortable or dignified about how he was left. With soft steps, you made your way to him. His chest rose and fell in shallow waves marking the hold the medication still had upon his mind. Much the same as his brother, he looked far younger in sleep, and yet with Caracalla, the evidence of his poor health would never fully disappear. The sores on his face had broken through the remnants of the makeup on his tear-stained cheeks. A measure of guilt flooded your veins, churring the acid in your empty stomach and forcing you into action. 

Beside the vanity sat a pitcher of clean water and a rag you’d readied before things fell apart the previous evening. It had become your nightly ritual to clean Caracalla’s face of the day’s makeup before covering each mark upon his skin with acetum and honey. It kept the bond between you strong as you were the only person he allowed to care for him in that way.

Coming face to face with the mirror, you did your best to avoid your reflection, but ignoring it was nearly impossible. Your fingers wrapped around the pitcher as you poured it into the empty bowl that sat in the center of the flat surface. The motion was done on instinct giving you time to assess your injuries personally. 

A deep purple swath had formed around your eye, seeping down below the slash that marked your cheekbone. The bruise throbbed with every flick of your eye, but it was the deep cut that truly pained you. A thin line of dried blood sat in the wound creating a gruesome visage. Nothing could hide the terrifying mark of the fingers that had closed around your throat before the final attack. Even in the light of day, you could feel their presence as though the hand remained heavy against you.

Glancing dead ahead into the mirror, the most terrifying part of all was not the injuries, it was not knowing who would wake up and rejoin the world when Caracalla rose. The pitcher clanked against the stone as you sat it down to grab the cloth. Dampening the thin fabric, you wrung it out and collected the vial of acetum and jar of honey to soothe his sores before returning to the emperor. There was just enough space on the edge of the bed for you to sit near his head. With gentle strokes, you cleansed his face, being sure to give extra care to spots of broken skin. Free of the mask, the progression of his illness became more apparent. Using the same rag, you dabbed the acetum on each of the marks before following with the golden liquid in the hope that it would provide some relief.  

It took only minutes for you to finish caring for the emperors’s needs, but it felt like an eternity. Part of you hoped he would wake as you worked but another part of you prayed he would continue to rest. Discarding the rag and other supplies nearby, you found yourself gravitating toward Caracalla’s slumbering frame. A deep ache radiated deep in your soul, gripping you tightly in an unrelenting hold. No matter how far he’d fallen, no matter the faults of his mind, this man would forever be yours. He’d forever be the one who captured your heart first and for that, you were eternally grateful. 

The bridge of your nose burned as you fell into his presence. The clean scent of his robes mixed with the bitter tang of wine that clung to him.  Fearful of letting him go, you wrapped an arm around his side and hauled yourself close. Your fists twisted into the flowing fabric at his back as you hid your face in his chest. Shrouded in him, your lungs hitched, tears streamed in searing lines down your cheeks, stinging the raw skin around your wound. But that was secondary to the hole that grew in your heart every time you allowed yourself to contemplate Caracalla's remaining time. 

Hours slipped away unnoticed, leaving the pair of you to while away the minutes in each other’s arms. In time, the gods must have favored your first desire, for as the blinding rays of early morning crept toward midday, Caracalla stirred beside you. Uncertain of what was to come, you kept your visage concealed.

“Good morning, my love. How does the new day find you?” Your voice trembled with worry as you watched him push to sit beside you. A hazy fog slowed his mind and his speech, forcing you to be patient as he reached out to touch your cheek. His brows pulled together in concern at the sight. The soft brush of his fingertips over the cut sent fresh lances of hurt zinging down your neck. Still silent, Caracalla watched the way you recoiled from him before attempting to speak. 

“You are injured. Who hurt you?” There was so much innocence in his eyes. Without question, there was no memory of the previous night, and for that you were thankful. Caracalla knowing that he’d caused you this pain would have done nothing but burden an already fragile man with more turmoil. 

You shook your head, hoping to shove off the worry as best you could. “No one hurt me. I decided to venture to the baths after too much wine. I lost my footing and slipped. It is my fault.” With what little strength you could muster, you sat up fully beside him. 

“Does it hurt terribly?” He took your hand and held it in his lap.

“No, not terribly.” Your free hand rose to hold his cheek, “I promise.” Quiet fell over the pair you allowing Caracalla to trace the map of bruises that marred your neck. Even he noticed the odd shape of the marks low upon your throat. You could see the thought teeter on his lips for a moment before the words tumbled from him so childlike and sincerely. Nearly the same words his brother had spoken to you just hours earlier.

“I will always protect you, you must know that.” He held your gaze tightly in his, running his thumb over the back of your hand while he waited for you to respond. 

“I do. I do.” And the falsehood of your reply brought fresh tears to your eyes. Despite the many factors that stood between you and the happy life you'd once thought possible with Caracalla, you loved him beyond reason. Even though you were losing your best friend in real-time to an illness that was as mysterious in its origin as in its timeline of destruction, you trusted him. He’d stood by your side, welcoming you into the fray all those years ago. Never did he shame your lack of knowledge about the way things in the upper crust of Roman society worked. He was a good man at his core.

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Chaos had taken over Caracalla’s chamber as the day’s newest adventures in the Colosseum grew nearer.  Dressed in an opulent stola, you chanced a glance at the fiery-haired many who sat behind you. Nearly done being dressed, only a crown of laurels remained. Seated in a low chair, he fiddled with the jewelry that adorned his hands and neck. Taking advantage of his distraction, and unable to ignore the desire to be near him, you made your way across the cavernous room to Caracalla. Stepping between his legs you reached back to grab the golden crown in your delicate fingers. With great care you placed it upon his head, fixing his disheveled hair as it poked out in awkward angles. From his spot, he watched in awe, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“There, now you are ready to face your adoring public. May the gods make their will known in the arena this day.” You stooped to place a gentle kiss on the middle of his forehead. The gesture was one of trust and friendship. 

Overwhelmed, you stood upright and took a step back from the emperor. You’d only just begun to turn around when a gentle hand clasped around your wrist forcing you to turn back to Caracalla. His voice was barely more than a whisper as he spoke to you, “Promise you’ll stay with me.” 

“Always.” Caracalla brought your knuckles to his lips before letting you go. 

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The journey to the arena was relatively short. Inside the emperor’s box, the brothers took their seats and were followed in by General Acacius and Lucilla. You watched from the back, observing the pair with keen eyes and a skeptical mind. The two seemed stiff and out of place, their eyes shifting from side to side as though they were about to crawl out of their skin. Pressured to speak, the general stood before the cheering crowd, commanding attention, but something about his words left you feeling ill. The look on his face as he turned around to join his wife was enough to confirm your suspicion. Something was wrong. Long past were the days when Rome’s general was faithful without question to the throne. And now had come the time when enemies were around every corner, to be found most slyly in the people who were meant to be trusted confidantes. 

Commotion filled the arena pulling your attention away from Acacius and Lucilla and permitting you to step into the space between Geta and Caracalla. Chancing a glance at each of them you found Geta’s eyes were already on you, following your approach like a hawk. He raked over your frame, admiring the way the fabric draped over your body, and followed the swell of your chest. Not wanting to risk unwanted attention, you met his gaze for only a moment before turning to engage with Caracalla. A guileless smile turned the corners of his lips as his high-pitched laughter bounced through the air.

Trusting in the power of the gods, you watched with rapt attention as the foreign gladiator made a fool of the man from the emperor’s stables.  Spared by the gods the man tempted fate before ending the fight altogether. Blood pooled beneath the decapitated fighter, painting the sandy ground in a sickening shade of red. 

With the fight over, everyone of note retreated inside where the festivities were sure to continue late into the night. Yet, as you turned to make your way across the room, you noticed the look on Lucilla’s face. She held firmly to the bundle of lavender propped beneath her nose, her face was pale as though the life had been drained from her veins. Her eyes darted from Acacius to the young gladiator that stalked across the sand toward the fighter’s cells. There was a hint of something more there that you failed to place, but it did little to settle your growing suspicions. 

Unable to address it at this moment, you trained your attention back on Caracalla who was chatting away about the fight, retelling the tale to those around him as though they hadn’t just watched it unfold. Stepping into his side, you laced your arm through his, holding tightly to his bicep, and tucked yourself into him. Geta, caught in a conversation with some verbose senator, tracked your movement toward his brother noticing every detail of you. His concern grew stronger as he watched you press your nose into the voluminous material of his brother’s elaborate toga hiding your countenance before pressing onto your toes to whisper in the emperor’s ear. A chaste peck was placed upon his brother’s cheek, earning you a wondrous grin.

Caracalla nodded, before letting you fall away from his side. The young man turned back to the small group that had formed around him and continued his elaborate story. With his blessing, you were free to pick your way through the crowd toward the plethora of wine and food that covered the table at the center of the room. Admiring the choices, you meandered your way from one end to the other sampling every dried fruit and cured meat before settling on a deliciously dark cup of wine. The steady throb in your cheek had you wish for something a bit more potent than alcohol, but alas, that would have to wait. 

Refilling your nearly empty glass, you wandered the space, keeping a keen eye on both Caracalla and Geta. Each remained wrapped in conversation but their demeanors couldn’t be more dissimilar. Where Caracalla continued his lively storytelling, basking in the unwavering attention of his growing entourage, Geta’s face grew increasingly pinched at whatever meaningless drivel the senators believed required the prompt and full attention of him alone. You knew this has become commonplace, the passing over of Caracalla when discussing politics, and yet it rolled your stomach to see it happening so blatantly in public. 

Finished with your lap, you swooped by the table to collect another glass of wine. On a mission to relieve Geta of his trap, you made your way to him, confidently plucking your way through the sea of people. You could feel the burn of jealous and questioning eyes on you. Your presence amongst these circles had become expected long ago and yet it never prevented people from casting judgment upon you. The tender mark upon your face only added fuel to the fire, giving the people exactly what they wanted… more about which to gossip about. 

You closed the last few paces between you and Geta, reveling in the horrified look on the senator's face as you reached for the emperor’s shoulder. Gently, you placed a hand on him, drawing his attention away. “Here, some wine, to fortify your political endeavors.” Ignoring the hanging jaws and scoffs of the other men you carefully handed Geta the drink soaking in the entrancing way his eyes seemed to glow in the light. Their depth fell away to a brighter almost amber hue. But it was not just his gaze that held the knot in your chest, but the emotion that sat heavy in every fiber of his being. 

Desire darkened across his face as he memorized the stillness of your features. Geta’s ringed fingers brushed your own bare skin, taking far longer than was necessary to receive the beverage from you. A distinct cough of indignation erupted from one of the older politicians forcing you to step back. Geta gave a slight nod, silently passing you permission to fall away knowing that he judged you not for wanting to escape the calloused opinions of those he was forced to surround himself with. The swish of your stola accented your departure.  Behind you, the conversation returned in hushed tones, but the swell of the crowd did little to mask the biting words.  

“That woman has grown far to forward with you and your brother, Geta. It appears it may be time to let her go, and replace her with someone more docile… refined. Perhaps now the pair of you should consider proper marriages, for the future of Rome.” The old man’s voice croaked grating into the momentary silence that fell after he finished speaking.

With your back turned to Geta you were unable to see the vicious sneer that came over the emperor’s face. Far enough away now, his words were lost to the crowd in which you disappeared. Only the need to maintain peace for your sake kept him from exploding. A deep breath filled his chest and shook through his nose as he tested the surety of his voice. “That woman belongs to my brother, and to m- to the household. Her actions are neither unexpected nor uncouth. And may I suggest senator, that you keep her out of your filthy whoring mouth or you may find your own midnight wanderings publicized for all to discuss. Am I clear?” 

“Yes.” The older man murmured. His eyes dropped to the ground, uncertain of how to proceed. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I believe there are others far more worthy of my time to which I must attend.” Geta bowed out hastily, the venom in his voice dripped from every word keeping the other tongues silent. 

Heavy footfalls pounded across the stone toward you, following your path away from the crowd in search of temporary solitude. Nearing a quiet alcove, you pressed yourself into the chill of the marble. Exhausted and aching, you felt your legs tremble, forcing you to slump down upon the unforgiving bench that lined the wall. The distant rumbling of the crowd was accented by the approach of another. Unsure of what to say, you let your eyes fall shut, keeping out the world around you, and perhaps buying you some time to come to grips with your thoughts. 

The steps slowed, and yet you didn’t bother to open your eyes. “You mustn’t listen to them. They are feeble-minded old men. They matter matter not.” Geta spoke, hoping you would look at him. 

Concern masked as anger flashed hot over your nerves, forcing you to stand and crowd into his space. Your open palms found his chest, shoving his sturdy frame away as you worked to control your volume. “You cannot say those things, Geta. You need them, whether you care for that reality or not. Without the Senate, Rome is nothing. In a heartbeat, they have you and your brother deposed. There are snakes in the water, Geta. Do not let your loose tongue be what brings about your ruin!” 

Geta’s hand came to hold your wrists in place against him, the feeling of your touch the only thing that kept him from giving into the dizzying spin of his head. “What are you saying?! You of all people-” 

“I’m saying take great care with what you say and to whom you say. There are those within your inner circle who wish to see you and Caracalla fall, no matter how that happens. The ends would justify the means in their eyes. The senators are only part of your problem.” You choked on the end of your confession, the reality heavy in your chest. 

Geta’s hold on you changed. One hand skimmed along your curves finding home at the nip of your waist while the other cupped your injured cheek, tipping your face to his. “Do not be afraid. Tell me what you know.”  

“I’m not afraid, not for myself. But for you and Caracalla… that is an entirely different story. And as far as what I know... it is nothing, it has to be nothing. Just my anxious mind getting the better of me.” 

“Do not keep this inside, it will only eat away at you.” He spoke deeply, understanding the truth behind what he’d spoken despite often leaving this advice alone for himself. 

“You expect more of me than of yourself when it comes to honesty.” Lingering frustration gave way to weariness. Struggling to keep yourself together, you rested your brow against Geta's chest. The silk of his clothing soothed your nerves. Held carefully in his arms, you could feel the feather-light touch of his lips as he kissed your temple.

“Nothing gets past you.” A soft smile wrapped around his words. Pressed together in the relative seclusion you'd managed to find, Geta inhaled the warm scent of wine and perfume that swirled around you. The beautiful bouquet went to his head, adding to the hazy buzz he cultivated through a touch too much to drink.

"Pay no mind to the anxious ramblings of a palace whore. I know little of what I fear. I should never have voiced my concern, it is not my place. Forgive me." You kept your face buried in the elaborate folds of his toga, letting the sturdiness of him continue to calm your body.

"Do not call yourself that." Geta leaned back, forcing you to look at him. Tenderly, he held your face, taking extra care to avoid your wound. "You are not. You never have been."

"No, I am. They are right. A real marriage. A wife… children… a son to bear the family name. That is what you both need. What you deserve."

"You are avoiding your worry. Deflecting. You may speak freely with me, you know this. There are no others here to judge or condemn. You have my ear and my heart." Geta captured your mouth with his, earning him the ghost of a whimper. Breaking away before things could escalate, he waited patiently for your response. "Now tell me what you fear so that I may carry that burden with you."

"I will not speak of it here. Not where prying eyes and ears shift all around. I know the palace is no better when it comes to the fiery spread of rumors and lies, but this place… it thrives on blood. It screams for it. It makes me ill. Not here. Meet me tonight, at the baths. I promise… I will share everything."

You reached for Geta, needing to feel him close once more. Slotting your lips together, you felt the fine strands of his hair between your fingers.

"Tonight." He mumbled against your lips.

Part III

[little-diable]

Our suffering ends now - Tommy Shelby (smut)

It truly has been a while since I’ve last posted a Tommy fic, but I love how this came together. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: She has mourned his death for the past years, all until her boss speaks of him, leaving (y/n) to wonder how she could have been betrayed like that, blindsided by lies. It’s time for her to return to the man she has believed to be dead.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, reunited lovers, some angst and crying

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (3.5k words)

Trees blurred past the window she sat close to, hands holding onto the book she carried with herself. Her eyes burned from being awake for so long, having to change trains every few hours, set on making it to him before night would break. Hours ago her heart had raced in her chest, pounding against her ribcage as if it was trying to flee from her. And she couldn’t blame it, knowing that what she was about to do would be uncomfortable, scarily so. 

This journey broke more promises than she could count with both of her cold hands, and yet she hadn’t been able to fight against the need to see him again – after all these years. She could still hear Ada’s and Polly’s voices speaking to her, forcing her to leave that one cruel night years ago. With tears rolling down her cheeks she had given in, watching the two women pack her bags before accompanying (y/n) to the train station. A foolish mistake she had been forced to live with. 

She was torn between hurt and anger, not understanding how the two women she had once loved like her own sisters could have betrayed her like that. For years she had lived with the knowledge that her lover was dead, that he hadn’t made it home after the war. Lies, nothing but lies she had been fed. 

If it hadn’t been for her job she would have kept believing the lies, not doubting what she had been told by the two. If it hadn’t been for the way her boss had spoken of him, she wouldn’t have stopped grieving the loss of the man she had once promised to love until her death. If it hadn’t been for the sinking feeling growing deep within her, she wouldn’t have purchased the train tickets that very night before calling the only man she had kept in touch with. 

Her legs ached as she rose to her feet, ready to step out of the train in hopes of spotting him. A deep breath was sucked into her lungs as (y/n) started moving, holding onto her suitcase while the cold evening air wrapped itself around her. 

“(Y/n)!” The smile widening on her lips only grew as her eyes spotted Alfie, rushing towards him to throw herself into his arms. He held onto her, hugging her as if they hadn’t seen each other in years, even though it had only been a handful of weeks. His comforting scent wrapped itself around (y/n), cozying her along as he slowly parted from her. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“You fucker.” The words rolled off her tongue before she could stop them, earning a few shameful gazes from couples brushing past the two. But Alfie’s loud laugh distracted her enough to keep smiling at the man she had crossed paths with years ago, instantly learning to love him like a brother. 

“Come, come, let’s get some food into your system and then you can tell me all about why you have summoned me to Birmingham, yeah?”

…

“Pain has never suited you, and yet it never dims your beauty.” (Y/n) raised her eyebrows at him in an almost mocking manner, drawing a smirk onto Alfie’s lips. She pushed herself further into the couch, legs tucked underneath herself while Alfie sat close to her, waiting for her to finally shed some light onto her mysterious behaviour. 

“You remember what I told you about him, don’t you?” A sigh left Alfie at her words, eyes momentarily fluttering close as if his annoyance was already getting the best of him.

“I told you I would marry you, there is no reason to mourn a life with a husband you never had. Say the words, Alfie marry me, and I will, yeah? Is this why you so desperately needed to see me, pearl? Because of some boy who fell at war like so many others?” Her jaw muscles began to tick in anger, a fire started to burn in her eyes at his words. (Y/n) had to let go of a few deep breaths, trying to keep calm before this could spiral into another fight neither of them would win.

“He’s not dead.” It was a simple sentence, and yet it carried more pain than all others she had spoken in a long time. It almost felt as if every single vowel had sharp teeth, scratching at her tongue as they rolled right off the strong muscle to leave behind wounds that wouldn’t fade. 

“What? Did his ghost suddenly appear at night? Did God speak to you-,” the sharp call of his name interrupted Alfie, forcing him to quieten down with anger tugging on his features. For a moment, neither of them spoke a word, letting a heavy silence fill the room. Ever since their paths had crossed, she had told Alfie all about him, without ever telling him his name, he knew nothing but the endless moments she could still remember, the love she had been fortunate enough to experience. 

“I heard it at work, my boss spoke of him and his brothers. He’s alive, I’ve grieved a man who was never dead all because I believed lies I had no reason not to believe. That’s why I called you, if somebody could help me find him, it’d be you.” Tears welled up in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks as if the sky itself was crying for her and all those horrible years she had lost to mourning him.

“What is his name, (y/n)?” Seriousness clung to Alfie as he asked the one question he had never dared to ask, shoulders tensed, lips pressed together as if he already knew the name she was about to whisper.

“Tommy Shelby.” All Alfie did was stare at her, making goosebumps appear on her arms as he shot to his feet, turning his back on (y/n) while a sound torn between a groan and a shout tore out of him. She was close to flinching, not understanding why he was reacting that way. 

“I can’t take you to him, (y/n). You’ll take the first train home tomorrow morning.” (Y/n) mimicked his movements while an almost hysterical laugh clawed out of her. Slowly, Alfie turned back towards her, both stared at one another, waiting for the other to break first. 

“I won’t leave, not before I see him again. What do you even know of Tommy, Alfie?” With two quick steps he had reached her, hands finding her warm face to cling to her. Pain was swimming in his pupils, a pain that reached far deeper than she could imagine. His calloused thumb stroked her skin as he softly shook his head at her, seemingly fighting to find the right words.

“Tommy Shelby is a devil, yeah, he’s a man who’d kill you without needing a gun nor a knife. He’s not the man you once loved, go home, forget about him and allow me to show you glimpses of a life you deserve to live, pearl.” (Y/n) pushed herself into his arms, cheek pressed against his chest to listen to his racing heartbeat. She clung to the man she wished she could love like a lover, a man who’d treat her well enough to offer her the world. And yet her heart couldn’t let go of Tommy, of the life she ached for like a starving woman dreaming of a soup to warm her aching body.

“Take me to him, Alfie, this is a decision that’s only mine to make.” 

……

Her fingers were interlaced with his, feeling his thumb stroke the back of her hand while she shifted her weight from one side of the pillow to the other. Both were staring at the door, waiting for the sound of somebody knocking on the wood to reach them. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) had problems breathing, tensing even further as the sound could finally be heard. 

And then her eyes found his frame, a man dressed in a sharp suit, in a thick dark coat and a cap whose shadow hid most of his features. Alfie rose to his feet, hiding her behind his frame as if he was still giving her the chance to turn around and leave, “Tommy, I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you again but we both know that’d be a lie, yeah.”

“What am I doing here, Alfie? I don’t have much time.” Silence began to stretch itself through the room, a silence that was filled by the sound of (y/n) clearing her throat. Alfie was forced to step aside as she rose, forcing all eyes onto her. For a moment nobody spoke, icy eyes wandered over her features, forcing her to straighten her spine and to blink away her tears. She struggled to believe that he was real, he had changed, had grown older and yet he still looked like the boy she had sworn to marry. 

“Tommy,” his name left her like a whisper, a sound that made him take a step back as if his personal hell was awaiting him. He kept staring at her until Alfie pushed himself closer to (y/n), forcing Tommy’s eyes to flicker from her to his enemy. “Do us a favour and give us some time alone, please, Alfie.”

It took Alfie a second to give in, staring at Tommy for a few more seconds before he reluctantly left the room. The door fell shut with a heavy thud, making her jump while it began to dawn on her that she was finally alone with Tommy, just like she had imagined for all these years. 

“It felt like a dream, you know, to hear your name again after all these years where I grieved you, believing you to be dead.” (Y/n)’s voice trembled, shaking with every further word she spoke. Her wide eyes clung to his confused features, watching his expression harden. She took a step closer, halting in her step as he shook his head, forcing her to stand still once again.

“You don’t need to lie to me, (y/n). You left without a word, forcing me to return to an empty home.” A sob left her, rumbling through her louder than intended. Now it was on her to shake her head, to cover her mouth with her shaking hand while bile filled her mouth. It felt like a cruel joke, allowing her to see through the game Ada and Polly had played on both of them. 

“Tommy, they told me you died, they made me pack my bags, made me leave home to start my life all over again in a different city hours away. I didn’t leave on my free will, why should I? I was ready to marry you, to start a family, you have to believe me.” She tried to move again, successfully this time, coming to a halt right in front of him. (Y/n) allowed herself to cup his cheek like she had last done the day he had left to fight in a devastating war. His piercing eyes kept staring at her glassy ones, watching her tears fall.

“Who’s they?” It was a simple question, a question rasped out with pain dripping from the words. Her tongue kissed her teeth, all too aware that this situation was about to spiral into another heartbreak. 

“Ada and Polly.” Nothing but a whisper, words that made anger widen on his handsome features. His gloved hand found hers, gently pushing her hand from his cheek to get some more distance between them, clearly hurting (y/n) with the simple action. 

“It’s good to see you again, (y/n), now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a busy day ahead. I hope Alfie takes good care of you.” Tommy turned from her, ready to leave the room while she choked on another sob.

“He’s nothing but a brother to me, Tommy. I never loved another. I can’t even bear the thought of being close to somebody who isn’t you.” He halted in his step, letting the words wash over him before wordlessly leaving the room. Leaving (y/n) behind with another cruel sob leaving her.

……

It had been hours since she had seen Tommy, hours she had spent with her cheek pressed to Alfie’s chest, drowning in the tears that didn’t seem to stop rolling. He had clung to her, had whispered comforting words to try and soothe her pain, without any luck. All until the phone call that had reached him, asking him to bring (y/n) to the Garrison at 4pm, not followed by any explanation. 

And so it came that she was leaning against Alfie as they stepped into the empty place, letting her eyes wander through the room. She found herself distracted for a moment, until her name was shouted by Arthur’s familiar voice, forcing her into a tight hug that made her chuckle in delight. 

Her body shook as they were led towards a room in the back, allowing her eyes to meet Tommy’s icy ones. A cigarette was held between his lips, the smoke engulfed him as if his shadows had moved up his body, whispering commands to him. It took Alfie a moment to let go of (y/n), to press a kiss to her hairline, eyes drawn back to Tommy, “If I find her crying again, I won’t hesitate to finally put a bullet between your eyes just like God intended, yeah?” 

It felt like a deja-vu, reminding her of their conversation hours ago after Alfie had left. She didn't dare move as Tommy kept smoking, intensely studying her. He leaned back in his chair before he reached his hand out, wordlessly urging her closer through the now empty room. (Y/n) moved slowly, feeling her heart skipping beats as he pulled her closer, forcing her to stand between his thighs.

“I dreamt of you, back in France. You were the only thing keeping me alive. I even prayed, to you or whoever would fucking bring me back to you. And then you were gone. They said you couldn’t wait any longer, that you couldn’t endure the pain.” He had his eyebrows furrowed, no longer able to look at her. A sigh left (y/n), she leaned back against the table to get a better view of his hard features, feeling how torn he was.

“They told me you died, that there was nothing left for me here. I didn’t get a chance to protest, they packed everything up and then I was suddenly on a train up north.” Her words drew his eyes back to (y/n), looking at the woman he had always loved, even as he had tried to hate her. Tommy tugged on her hand to pull her into his lap as if he still needed to convince himself that she was real, not a trick of his tired mind.

“They will pay for the hurt they’ve caused you.” It was a promise, filled with darkness and hurt, but (y/n) didn’t find it in herself to worry. Not when she was this close to him again, finally. 

“Is it true what Alfie told me? Did you get married?” He swallowed before his hand moved up her thigh, coming to rest on her waist. The silence told her everything she needed to know, leaving her to wonder how that woman had managed to capture his heart while (y/n)’s had been missing half of hers.

“I did, her name was Grace. I loved her, and yet it was no love like ours. Nothing could ever be like that.” A soft smile tugged on her lips, trying to forget about the woman who had once been at his side. Alfie had told her of her, of every detail he had picked up on over the past months, stories (y/n) was desperate to leave behind. 

Whatever it was that urged her on to move, it grew stronger with every passing second, until her lips ghosted over his. Tommy instantly reacted, searching her lips to press a hard kiss against them. He tasted of whisky, of cigarettes, and tea, nothing like the kisses they had last shared as young adults, tasting of a bright future that had been dimmed weeks later. 

The kiss grew more passionate as she began to shift around, wrapping both arms around his neck while her legs rested on either side of his. Their tongues fought for victory as his hands moved up her sides, tracing the body he had longed for in cold and dark nights. She was his warmth, the warmth that had been robbed from him beneath the surface of the earth, hiding away in tunnels that would forever haunt him. 

“Tommy,” she mumbled his name against his lips as both sucked air into their lungs, unable to stop clinging to one another. “Touch me, prove to me that you’re real. Let me feel you, please.”

His grip on her grew tighter, icy eyes watching her for a moment before he kissed her again. His hands found the seam of her dress, pushing the skirt further up her thighs with his hands finding her warm skin. A groan tore out of him as he touched her through the fabric of her undergarments, drawing a soft moan from her parted lips. 

Tommy spoke no warning as he stood up to place her down on the table. They held eye contact, wordlessly communicating while he pulled her undergarments down her legs, hand instantly drawn back to her heat. He touched her with care, gently brushing through her slip to collect drops of arousal. 

(Y/n)’s head rolled back, eyes fluttering close as he began to circle her pulsing bundle. Even though her mind struggled to figure out if she was truly experiencing this, if her lost lover was back to bring her pleasure, she didn’t find it in herself to care, to ask any other question. 

He looked like the devil, towering over her while pushing two fingers into her tightness. Tommy had been the last man she had allowed to touch her, and yet it felt so different to be touched by him, a new sensation she was already addicted to. He moved slowly, curling his fingers against her swollen spot while his thumb kept rubbing her pulsing bundle. 

She choked on his name, calling it out into the evening as if she was trying to summon him. He marvelled at her while he brought her pleasure, reminding her of all those times he had imagined this happening, aching for her while other women warmed his bed. And yet they hadn’t been her, no other woman had ever managed to make him feel this alive, eliciting a love for life deep inside of him. 

“I need you, all of you. Make love to me like you once did, Tommy.” He fumbled with his belt, freeing his hard cock from his trousers before brushing through her slit again. His hand found her throat to pull her in for another kiss the second he sank into her, feeling her walls flutter around him. 

It felt as if the world was ending, as if this was the last thing they could experience before their lives would end. And yet, (y/n) could only pray that death would be this beautiful, this comforting, finding herself in the arms of her lover. 

Tommy moved with care, fucking her softly for a few thrusts before he picked her up again to sink back down on the chair. He allowed her to take what she was aching for, fucking herself on his cock while his strong hands supported her. Every now and then his hips began to jerk, forcing his cock deeper into her tightness. 

“Heavens, I missed you, Tommy. I missed you so much.” Her eyes were too tired to cry again, and yet she felt as if she was whimpering for him, for the time lost, and the dreams that had been buried six feet under. His hand kept a possessive hold of her throat, keeping (y/n) close to whisper to her. 

“You’re mine, (y/n), no lost time will ever change that.” The second his thumb found her bundle again she was done for, ready to let go with his name bleeding from her tongue. He held onto her as she came, knowing that he wouldn’t last much longer himself. 

It hadn’t been long since he had last found comfort with another woman around, and yet it hadn’t nearly felt this good, this intense, this right. Tommy forced his eyes to stay open, to watch her fall apart as he followed moments later, imprinting himself on her walls. 

For a minute or two neither of them spoke, letting go of heavy breaths while their bodies stayed connected. Gently, he helped her off his lap, only to pull her back in the second he’d redressed. Neither of them could let go, scared that the other would leave their side otherwise. 

“What will happen now, Tommy?” She was scared to speak the question, didn’t want to be pushed away by the one man she’d never be able to stop loving. His hand pulled her back against his chest, chin placed on top of her head while alighting a cigarette. 

“Now you’ll find a new home here, with me. Our suffering ends now.”

[nethhiri]

Kid and killer with someone who is a literal mouse/rat ? ate the mouse zoan fruit unknowingly thinking I’d be a cooler ability

I hope you don't mind if I turned this into a little drabble bc it inspired me. It was such a cute idea.

(Okay this got out of hand... I am incapable of telling a succinct story)

The Only Free Cheese Is in the Mousetrap

You had to admit, when you first ate the Mouse-Mouse fruit, you thought it was going to be something a little bit cooler. Mice were small and lame. No one would blink twice at a silly little mouse. As it turned out, that was your advantage.

You had been trying to hitch a ride through the Grand Line and you had been successful for the most part, hiding in the storage of random ships, eating whatever you could find. You didn't need much as an innocent little mouse. This ship, however, had no food in storage. There were only weapons and prisoners. If you got caught on this ship, the consequences would surely be dire.

The mistake was made when you decided to venture around the ship in search of food. You happened to find yourself in the workshop of the notorious K.I.D., Eustass 'Captain' Kid that is. Unfortunately you were a very unique, bright white mouse. It didn't leave you much in the way of camouflage, unless there was a bowl of flour somewhere. Even more unfortunate was that Kid was a very observant man and spotted you instantly.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A wee mouse?" Kid crouched in front of you.

You had been so sure he was going to crush you under his foot.

"Yer not even scared, eh?"

In truth, you were terrified, in the third, secret state of fight or flight: freeze.

"Wait here, mousey."

Kid returned to his bench, where there was a mostly empty plate, save for some crumbs. He collected them in his hands and returned to the interesting white mouse, sprinkling them on the floor.

"Here ya go."

He returned to his work, glancing up at you every so often to watch you nibble on the crumbs.

The next evening, you returned. He wasn't going to squish you and he even fed you. If he continued, you could just do this and survive until the next stop in port. You were pleasantly surprised to find that he had already set out some cubes of cheese.

"There ya go, mousey. I got the good stuff from Killer's stash."

That made your tiny mouse ears flick forward. So there's better food somewhere on the ship.

It turned out, you didn't have to search for it. Kid brought it to you. Over the next evenings, Kid left grapes, cheese, bread, bananas, and a bunch of other little tidbits. After about a week, there was a tiny metal table and chair set out with the food on top. You played along and sat in the chair for him, which mad him extremely happy. He moved it slightly closer to his bench every night until it was on the top of his desk. If someone had told you that you would be eating cubes of cheese, sitting on the desk of Eustass 'Captain' Kid, you would have laughed in their faces, but here you were doing just that.

This evolved even further until you were being carried around in a pocket on the inside of his coat. It was a little warm, but it offered protection. Every so often, he would sneak a crumb into the pocket for you.

"Boss, why are you feeding your coat?" Heat had been watching him put crumbs in his pocket over the course of dinner.

"No I'm not!" Kid said defensively, not answering the question correctly.

Killer reached out to pull open his coat, but Kid snatched it closer to him. Killer tugged on it harder.

"Stop it! Yer gonna hurt Mousey!"

"Mousey?" Killer let go of Kid's coat.

Kid hmphed.

"Kid."

Begrudgingly, Kid opened his coat.

"I don't see anything," Wire quipped.

Kid's face had a light dusting of pink. He whispered into his coat, "Come on out." Nothing happened. "It's okay."

You didn't expect to be revealed to anyone and you were reluctant to come out. Kid had kept you safe this far, though. You poked your snout out of the pocket and sniffed. There were quite a lot of people in the room. Your round, soft ears followed until your whole head was peering out of the pocket's edge. You were met with a chorus of adoring squeals from the girls and even some of the guys in the crew. Kid scratched between your ears, which you were ashamed to say, felt amazing and a squeak slipped out of your mouse mouth.

Heat covered his face. "So cute." Heat reached out to scratch your head.

"Don't ya touch my Mousey." Kid possessively closed his coat.

Heat's face got even sadder than it normally was.

"Just keep that thing out of my kitchen," Killer said. "They're full of germs."

Kid muttered down into the pocket. "Don't listen to him, Mousey. He's just jealous."

The next few days, since you weren't really a secret anymore, you spent sitting on Kid's shoulder. Killer had just as much disdain for you as he did initially, much to Kid's dismay. He really wanted his first mate to think you were as cool as Kid thought. Even the tiny leather jacket he made you didn't convince the blonde.

Kid fed you well, but you were still intrigued by this secret food stash that supposedly existed. There wasn't much entertainment as a mouse on a ship and you were getting bored. So at night, you had been searching the ship for this treasure. The kitchen was the most obvious, yet the scariest place to hunt. Certainly if there was hidden food, it would be there, however, Killer was extremely territorial and observant. It would be dangerous to search that particular area. Tonight was the night you would risk it.

It was easy enough to slip under the kitchen door. Finding the good treats was harder, but your well-equipped nose was able to sniff them out. The problem came when your tiny mouse hands were unable to figure out how to open the secret paneling that the food was hidden behind. You could turn into your human form, risky as it was. It would be nice to stretch it out. You had been a mouse for several weeks.

Taking your human form, you poked around the paneling until it revealed its contents. There was a variety of fancy or high quality specialty foods, including cheeses and preserved meats. You found a knife and cut small pieces from a few things you were interested in. Then you put everything back in its approximate original position. You climbed onto the counter and reverted back into a mouse, stuffing the tiny pieces of food you had curated into your cheeks.

The following day, as Killer went about his business, he noticed a set of bare footprints on the floor. There was a light dusting of flour from the day before when he made pasta from scratch. He hadn't noticed it before now. What was strange was that the footprints were only in one spot, like a person materialized and dematerialized there. It was also strange that someone who wasn't Kid was barefoot in the kitchen, and these footprints were about half the size of his. He somewhat brushed it off, that is, until he noticed the other footprints on the counter, the much tinier, much mousier footprints.

You had been spending most of your time in the walls of the ship, when you weren't being carried around in Kid's pocket. Today was no exception. You spent some of your time exploring listening in on others' conversations. Peering through the cracks of the wood, you decided to eavesdrop on Kid. Killer had come to talk to him and you were curious about what the captain and first-mate talked about. It was a good thing you did, since you were the subject matter.

"Kid, there's something up with your mouse."

His head snapped up from what he was doing. "What? Did something happen to them?"

"The 'mouse' is fine." Killer made air-quotes as he spoke.

"What do ya mean 'mouse'?" Kid copied his air-quotes.

"I mean I don't think it's just a mouse." Killer explained. "There are footprints in my kitchen that go from human to mouse." Killer wasn't stupid. He could put the pieces together.

"So ya think Mousey is a person?"

"I do."

"Prove it."

Shit. He was on to you. You didn't even notice the footprints you left behind. Should you even show up to eat? Or would it be more suspicious if you didn't? You ended up waiting until Kid left for the night before skittering out to grab your little crumbs and retreating into the wall.

You made yourself relatively scarce for the next few days, meaning you spent more time spying on the crew, for entertainment purposes only. One particular conversation caught your attention. You only caught portions of it, but it was clearly a mutinous theme. It ended shortly after you caught on to it, however, so you didn't get any details. Technically, it wasn't your problem. This wasn't your crew and you weren't planning on sticking around. It ate at you though. It felt wrong not to repay Kid for keeping you safe. Maybe you could return the favor.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary after that. Maybe they had given up on their plans. Until one evening in particular, someone new had delivered Kid's dinner to his workshop. He didn't always eat in there but he did more and more after he started feeding you. There was something off about the smell of the food. It wasn't right. Before Kid could eat any, you scrambled up to the table and bit his hand as he reached for the fork.

"Mousey! What the fuck?! That hurt." Kid bopped your head with a finger. "No biting."

As he reached for the fork again you knocked it onto the floor.

"Don't piss me off, Mouse."

He wasn't going to take the hint. He leaned over to pick up the fork, which is when you took the opportunity to push the plate onto the floor.

"FUCK!"

You knew he wasn't going to be happy, in spite of that, you couldn't watch him eat poisoned food. You tried to run away afterward, knowing this. However, you were slow compared to him and his powers quickly put a tiny metal cage around you.

"Ya act like this after all I've done for ya?! Bad mouse!" He picked up the miniature jail cell and gave it a shake, causing you to tumble around inside, with squeaks of discomfort.

Kid stomped off with you in tow and threw you to Killer once he found the first mate.

"Take this little shit to the brig."

Killer gave him a questioning look behind his mask. "You want me to put the mouse in a cell?"

"Well, I ain't gonna kill it. I'm not a monster."

Kid relayed all your crimes to the blonde. It was funny, how Killer felt a little bit bad for you, even though he had never shown you favor prior to that. You bounced with every step he took down to the brig.

"Oh, Mousey. You fucked up." Killer was to keep you here until they docked somewhere to let you go.

No, you fucked up. Neither of them were familiar with mouse physiology it seemed. The bars on your prison were way too far apart. As soon as Killer left, you squeezed out of the cage and made a beeline back to Kid's workshop.

It was vacant at the moment. You hurried to the desk and found a writing instrument. It was tough in your diminutive body, but you left a message for the captain:

YOU ARE IN DANGER.

You hoped he took it seriously. Then you scurried your furry body back to your cell before anyone noticed, not that they would.

Unfortunately, Kid thought it was a prank. You tried another note on his desk. You tried to leave him a note on his mirror in lipstick. At this point, Kid considered that there was a ghost on board. Clearly this method wasn't working. Once it became obvious, you started venturing out of the cage when you knew there wasn't anyone scheduled to come down there to feed or check on you. The next best thing to try was going back to spying and figuring out who exactly was involved.

Now, what you would do when you figured it out? That was decided for you. It wasn't what you intended. But what were you supposed to do? One of the men spotted you. And he backed you into a corner. And he was going to step on you. Your only choice was to transform. And when he pulled a knife? Well, of course you had to disarm him. And now that he had seen you and knew you heard his plot, you couldn't just leave a loose end like that. So you had no choice but to cut his throat. You left the knife in his hand. Not very believable but there were footsteps in the hall and you had to get out of there.

Not long after that, Killer came down to your cell and squatted down, lifting your prison until you were eye level.

"I know it was you."

You licked your paw and groomed your ear, very cutely, you might add.

"You can't fool me. You really need to learn to cover your tracks."

You scratched the back of your other ear with your hind leg.

Killer let out a frustrated growl and dropped your cage. He stomped out of the brig.

How is he so observant! You really should have remembered about the tracks, especially since that's how he noticed the first time. Now what? Either their plan would be foiled by losing a member or they would escalate, thinking they had been found out. You knew there were others, and you had to find out who they were, and quickly.

Your investigative antics became riskier. You went into cabins and dug through drawers. You followed people around using the walls. You were getting closer. Until one day, you found two more people chatting. They were definitely up to no good. The more you listened the more alarmed you were. They were going to make an attempt on Kid's life again tomorrow.

There was no way you could take them both on. The only reason you won against the other guy was because you took him by surprise. You couldn't send a message to Kid either. That hadn't worked. If you tried to tell him as a human, he wouldn't trust that. The only person that knew your secret, or at least was fairly confident in his assumptions, was Killer. Maybe you could risk telling him. Maybe he would believe you. It was doubtful.

When you scampered back to your cage, you came to an abrupt stop. Killer was there waiting for you. You gulped. You were frozen. You were caught.

"Where have you been, mouse?"

The jig was most certainly up. He snatched you in his fist faster than you thought possible. You squeaked, trying to gain a little sympathy as a cute creature. Maybe it would make him believe you were a regular mouse. Then you bit him. He didn't even flinch. He was smart. He was trying to force you to reveal yourself, squeezing you gradually tighter and tighter.

You were forced into your human form to avoid being crushed, even then, his grip on your throat was immovable. You could sense his smugness in being right. He wasn't even surprised. You were grateful that however this fruit worked, you got to keep your clothes on when you transformed.

"Stop! Please!" You scratched at his hands.

Killer slammed you against the wall. "You killed one of my crew! You're going to pay for it."

"M-mu-tiny," you rasped out. The edges of your vision were going black.

Killer loosened his grip. "What did you say?"

"There's gonna be a mutiny."

Killer pushed you against the wall harder. "So you're a murderer and you've turned our own crew against us?"

"N-no. Please. L-et me go." You gasped for air. "I'll ex-plain."

Killer was decent enough to hear you out, and was shocked by the accusations. You couldn't help him further though. You hadn't heard their names and the way you described them was vague. It left Killer in a tough place. He didn't trust you, yet if you were telling the truth and his captain was in danger, he had to.

"I-I have an idea."

Killer didn't like your idea. Yet, it was better than anything he could think of, so he went along with it. And that was how you found yourself sitting on the inside of the Massacre Soldier's helmet, hanging onto his hair the next day. You could see out of the eyeholes better than you expected. Killer was strategically staring at each individual member and you were to whisper in his ear when you saw the people who were plotting.

As you spotted them, you hurriedly signaled to Killer that they were the culprits. As they had no proof, Killer was simply going to talk to them. But, as one does when being approached by a brick house of a man like Massacre Soldier, they got scared. This was not their plan, but they were so nervous, especially after one of them was killed, that they thought they had been found out. They both jumped Killer, and in the process of him defending himself, you slipped out of his mask and fell onto the deck.

You shook it off and your eyes searched for Kid, who was so distracted by the seemingly random scuffle, that he wasn't watching his own back, where a third, unexpected assailant was waiting. You ran as fast as your short legs would carry you. He spotted you instantly.

"Mousey? How'd you-"

Kid was taken aback by watching you run straight through his legs, and as he turned, seeing you transmute your form into that of a human. A human who was wrestling a gun out of someone's hand. Someone who was obviously trying to point said gun at him.

Regrettably, Kid was just a touch too shocked to react in time. His devil fruit activated to take the gun, but only after a shot was fired. He felt nothing. You, on the other hand, dropped to your knees and doubled over, clutching your midsection.

Was this how you imagined yourself being celestially discharged from this life? No. Did you have regrets? Probably. But saving Eustass Kid wasn't one of them. After all, what other mouse could say they saved a notorious pirate captain? Maybe your devil fruit wasn't that lame in the end.

______________________________________________________________

Kid thought about you a lot. They didn't have a trained doctor on board. They had to leave you at an island that had, thankfully, been in close range for you to be treated. He shouldn't be sad; his plan was to drop you off at the next island. Still, it felt wrong not to say goodbye or at least thank you.

Killer was grateful to you for saving his captain, even after being 'imprisoned' and roughed up by them. Even though you owed them no loyalty, you were more loyal than crewmates they had on board for months.

Several weeks passed. Kid happened to look up to see the NewsCoo delivery bird. The bird landed with a newspaper, some new wanted posters, and a small package. Curious, Kid picked it up and shook it next to his ear. Weird, what kind of gift made squeaks. Kid tore it open to find a dazed, white mouse.

"Oh fuck! Mousey! Sorry!"

You stumbled around in his hand, dizzy.

He hugged his hand to his chest and gave you a giant kiss on the head, staining your white fur red. In his excitement, he forgot you were a person. Upon remembering, he had a pink dusting to his cheeks and set you down.

You transformed into a human in front of him.

"Why did ya come in the mail?!"

"Cheaper fare than a boat," you grinned.

Kid all but threw you over his shoulder. "Killer! Look what we got in the mail!"

Killer stifled a laugh as he noticed a big red imprint of lips on your forehead. Kid went just as red as the mark when he noticed that it transferred to your human appearance. And neither one of those assholes told you it was there either.

Kid dropped the "y" from the end of your name from then on, but slipped up on occasion, still referring to you as Mousey. He still asked you to join him for dinner sometimes, too, as a person though, not a mouse; he didn't give you crumbs either. He liked your company.

Killer was impressed by your knowledge of cheeses and asked you to come shopping with him on islands for provisions. You also had a knack for picking the ripest fruits. He usually asked you to personally deliver Kid's meals, you know, to avoid another poisoning.

And some would even go as far as to say they saw a white critter scurrying under Kid or Killer's doors in the late hours of the night or scurrying out early in the morning.

[slxsherwriter]

Pay for Past Sins

Fandom: Joy Ride

Pairing: Rusty Nail x single mother female reader

Word count: 2,529

Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, blood, injuries, threats to a child character

Author's note: I wanted to play with the idea of allowing Rusty to show off that more violent and aggressive side of him since I've written him more softly. In the end, I actually struggled a bit with the way that he would handle things, so I think I found a way to go about it that suited everything. As always, not beta read. Mistakes are my own. Enjoy! Likes are always appreciated, but reblogs keep the creative muse fed.

Tagging: @tinalbion @umnitsa

Stickiness on the side of your face. A deep, pulsing throb in your head. You made a move to reach up and touch where the pain seemed to be radiating from, only to not be able to move your arms. A quick jerk confirmed the fact and panic welled in your chest. What the hell? The tightness around your wrists registered as well as the stretch in your shoulders. Your hands were restrained behind your back.

The last thing that you remembered was having dinner with Rusty and Michael. Michael. You tried to push yourself up. It took a little more effort than expected and only made your head feel worse, the pain sharpening briefly as you righted yourself. It took a moment, some slow breathing with your eyes squeezed shut, to let the worsening pain pass. Once it felt like your head wasn't about to pop like a grape, you opened your eyes. The room around you wasn't all that impressive. Dark, dingy. A dirt floor beneath you meant any movement caused little clouds of dirt dust to whirl in the air. It was quiet. Eerily and uncomfortably quiet. Panic curled in your gut and your chest, for a moment, leaving you feeling breathless. You had to get free. Where was Rusty? Where was Michael? Were you the only one who was tied up in this? There were a lot of questions and no answers. As you shifted your wrists, causing the material to bite further into your skin, you looked around for any sign of your son first.

“Look who's awake.” A voice off to your right spoke. There wasn't a body that you could see, just shadow movements. Blinking, you tried to clear your eyes more and find the shape of the individual that was speaking. “You aren't going to get yourself free. Might as well stop now.” The voice wasn't one that you knew, unrecognizable. But still, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

“Who are you? What do you want?” In case he didn't have Michael, you didn't want to say anything right away. As much as you wanted to know where he was, protective instincts demanded that you didn't put him in any more danger.

“You know, you must be really sick in the fucking head, being with him.” Nothing about the statement made sense. Him? Who the hell was he referring to? Did this have something to do with your ex? The two of you had been separated for nearly a year now, the divorce done and over. He was the one who initiated it. Despite the warning, as you thought about what could have brought you here, you continued to wriggle your wrists to try and get free. Footsteps sounded out, moving closer by the second. “That the case? You get off on the shit that he does?” Without warning, your hair was yanked back, forcing your head back, and pain to worsen again. A cry slipped from you before you could stop it. That's when you tasted blood in your mouth. The stickiness on the side of your head had to be blood.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Bullshit!” He used the hold that he had on your hair to force you to your feet, no other choice in the matter to avoid any additional pain. “That fuck killed my friends, tried to kill me. Too bad for him that I survived. Me and my girl. So, now is time for some payback. We came prepared and you are the key to that.” He kept talking like what he was saying was supposed to make sense to you.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you pleaded, hoping the man would either believe you or at least give you a little more context as to what was going on. If you knew what he was referring to, maybe you could talk your way out of it. Maybe. But if he had kidnapped you and had hurt you, it was likely not something that you could talk your way out of, but you would give it a try.

“You don't know what I'm talking about, huh? Maybe if you see his work then you'll remember. This is your home after all since you're his bitch, isn't it?” He pulled you forward before forcing you to sit down at a table. To your horror, your son was tied up to a seat across from you. Michael seemed to be knocked out, or sleeping. There wasn't any markings that you could see but it still didn't stop the rush of emotions that came over you.

“Listen, you can do whatever you want to me. I don't care. Just….leave him out of it. He's an innocent boy.” You struggled against the hold and the restraints with a renewed vigor. That only pissed the man off further, and the next thing that you knew, you were slammed face down. There was an audible crunch, and blood filled filled your mouth as it poured down from your broken nose. The pain caused your eyes to water and a small sob to escape.

“You think I care about any of that? You're both connected to him, so you both get the same treatment. He needs to know what it's like to lose.” Your heart just about stopped in your chest, despite the dizziness that caused the room to spin around you as your head was yanked back once more. “Now, I think you need a little taste of what my friends and I experienced.” You had no clue what that actually meant, but you knew it wasn't any good. Ears ringing still from the blow to your head, you missed the fact that he stepped away. There was rummaging behind you and then metal hitting metal that made you flinch.

Michael began to stir and your heart leapt into your throat. No. If he saw any of this….

Something rumbled in the distance. The man behind you laughed.

“Right on time.” He cut the restraints on your wrists and yanked one of your hands forward. You struggled against his hold but couldn't break out of it, even as you nearly fell out of the seat. A metal spike was driving through the top of your hand into the table. The pain was jarring. Hot, intense, and overwhelming, causing your vision to blacken at the edges. The scream that came from you was reactionary, a response that couldn't have been controlled and enough to wake up Michael.

“Mommy!” Shit. The nerves were on fire, and it radiated up your arm. Muscles spasmed, causing your fingers to twitch uncontrollably. The man moved towards Michael.

“No, no! Don't touch him!” The words choked through your pained sobs, tearing a raw spot in your throat. Shaky legs held your weight against all odds as you stood up. There was no chance there you could reach across the table and stop whatever was about to happen. Even as you tried, despite the way that it caused sheer agony to yourself. You couldn't let the man touch your son. Even seeing the fingers trail through your son's hair was enough to make your blood boil. “Mike, it's going to be okay, baby.” He was already crying, and you knew that there was only so much you could do to reassure him in the moment. The room wobbled around you, blackness creeping further into the edges of your vision.

He had mentioned something about another person, and the thought came to your attention. Where were they? Potentially others. As in more than one. A scream came from behind you, somewhere in the depths of the barn looking thing that you were in, and it caught his attention. It was a minor miracle that his hands came away from Michael. Though, that relief was short-lived when he produced a pistol from the back of his pants. His attention had been fully pulled away from the two of you. As he moved from the table, you tried to watch him, confirming that he wouldn't look. More screams before he was hollering out names. Ones you didn't care about.

“Michael, baby, I need you to close your eyes, okay? Please, just listen to Mommy. I promise everything is going to be okay.” You needed him not to watch what was about to happen. He nodded, sniffling, but ended up listening to you. Gritting your teeth, you grabbed at the metal spike that was keeping your hand pinned to the table. There was enough, just enough, for you to grab. Biting in the inside of your cheek and on your tongue in an effort to muffle the pained noises, you tried to yank it out. Getting free from the table was imperative to your health. More voices began to sound out, causing your hand to slip. “Shit…”

“Easy there, darling.” You jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, tugging at the wound and causing another cry to slip. “Shit, don’t move.” The warm familiar touch pressed into your lower back, and a low hiss came from the man as he inspected the wound on your hand. He murmured a soft apology and did what you had just attempted to do. His large hand, already covered in blood, dwarfed your own. He made it seem like the spike was nothing. It hurt just as badly as it came out as it had when it had been rammed into your hand. He pulled a rag from a pocket and quickly wrapped it around your hand. If you didn't focus on the movement of his hands, there was a significant risk that you would fall to the floor, feeling the way that your legs shook. His touch was gentle, seemingly going through familiar actions as they never faltered as he wrapped the rag tightly around your hand.

“Need you to listen, okay? Get Michael out of that seat.. Can you do that for me?” You gave a shaky nod, knowing that if you didn't get your son out of the seat, it wouldn't be good for either of you. “Good. Get him out of the seat and then find a spot to hide. I don't want them getting to you again. I'll find you soon, and we'll get you patched up.” His hands cupped your cheeks gently, taking in the bloody mess your face had become. There was something else he wanted to say, the familiar hesitant look coming over his face. Thumbs brushed softly over your cheeks. He had always been gentle with you. They dropped away, and he let you do what was needed.

Rusty watched her shift towards a darkened corner, behind some junk that remained inside the barn. The one place that she should have never been. With her and Michael safe for the time being, he could turn his attention back to the few that remained inside with them. None of them would survive the night. That much was certain. They touched what was his, harmed her, and risked harm to the boy. He had to shift gears quickly once more and go back to the anger that had been present from the moment he had found them missing at the restaurant. He had no doubt that she would have just disappeared on him, and that instinct had been right.

There would be explaining that needed to get done later, but it was hardly a worry. She couldn't go anywhere. There were two of the group already dead. He didn't know how many were left. At least another three, judging by the cars out back and the walkie system that they had set up. He grabbed the spike that had been shoved through her hand and pocketed it before shifting back through the quiet of the old barn. Their downfall? They didn't know every inch of wood like the back of their hand. It was different from anything he had dealt with before since he was worried about the two bodies in the corner rather than focused on wiping out everything that moved. He didn't have time to plan, time to use to his advantage. But it hardly mattered. Improvisation would have to work for now.

Silently, he slipped through the space, fingers curling around an old rusty metal pipe flecked with the blood of previous victims. Rusty paused, careful with the sounds around him. One was close.

Under normal circumstances, there was a sense of enjoyment in the actions. The swinging of fists, the gurgling cries and pleas, the warmth of blood as it soaked his hands and clothes. A sense of poetic justice that he delved out for discretions committed by those that just wouldn't learn otherwise. But this? This was entirely different. The movements were almost autopilot. His focus was getting through the entire ordeal as quickly as possible. He wanted to get back to far more important matters, which were huddled hidden in a corner. Crimson slowly coated hands further, violence unleashed in the brutal manner that left no question of what the outcome would be.

When the last one fell, Rusty let out a huff and glanced down at the body before him. Fucking asshole. He hadn't gotten away this time. The thought brought the realization that he had brought this upon both of the people that mattered the most in his life. Guilt and worry churned in his gut now that the job had been done. The barn could be cleaned up later. He had others to take care of and that would require a hospital given the extent of injuries he had seen.

You shook as you clutched your son to you, trying to cover his ears and shield him from whatever horrors were happening beyond the darkness that concealed the both of you. Adrenaline was wearing off, and the blood loss combined with head trauma had left you feeling woozy. All you could really do was rock your son gently and try to assure him everything was going to be okay through the quiet crying he was doing. Even when it wasn't. There was no way things could be okay. Heavy footsteps came closer to your hiding spot, and you scooted backward, pressed tightly into the tiny corner. It was instinctual that your torso shifted, protecting Michael as much as possible from whatever was about to come.

It was Rusty. The large frame of the man appeared and unconsciously, even though you didn't want to, your body relaxed. He was at the end of the junk pile that you had taken refuge behind.

“It's okay now, darling. Come on. Need you to come on out for me. Okay? Gotta get you, and Michael looked at.” Looked at? The room spun around you, the words sounding further away and more fuzzy by the second. “Sweetheart I…” The rest of the words couldn't be made out, hell, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore. There was wriggling and the weight against your chest and in your lap vanished. All before the blackness at the corners of your vision seeped inward and overtook everything.

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN (oneshot)

Aventurine x ex girlfriend!reader

He would gamble his own life before ever risking your relationship but his dangerous job forced him to give you up, shattering both of your hearts in the process. Months later Sigonian notices you on one of the boujee parties he got invited to as an IPC representative. Motivated by yearning and alcohol in his veins Aventurine tries his luck in love again. ANGST,SUGGESTIVE

general masterlist

Aventurine was always a little bit fed up with those expensive parties thrown by his business partners, lavish ballroom filled with pathetic people living with no purpose besides endless consumption, each of them raised in conditions he could only dream of as a child, staring at him with curiosity. Hoping that he will make a mistake, prove them he is still a lowlife they take him for despite all those privileges he now enjoyed as a high ranking IPC member. But tonight he sincerely did not care about any of this, barely acknowledging the noise around him. 

He sipped on a drink more pricey than lifetime supply of food for his whole clan would be, giving out charming smiles that never reached his devoid of emotions, outstanding eyes to greedy leaches sitting alongside him at the poker table. Seemingly interested in shallow exchange of blows disguised as jokes and witty remarks young man looked around not expecting anything positive out of this meeting, maybe except meaningless material gains he forced himself to care about for the sake of keeping up his Aventurine persona.  

Then he noticed elegant woman standing alone near the entrance. Fingers adorned with precious rings clenched around the glass, almost shattering it in desperate attempt to conceal how much his hands started to shake at the sight of familiar face. He thought he imagined it at first, but his broken heart wasn't playing tricks on him. Aventurine would recognize your face even after centuries, every detail of it carved into his mind, into his soul. Long, green dress tightly hugged your figure, enhancing every curve he loved to caress so much. It was really you. Just as beautiful as the day he broke your heart, five months ago. The day he saw you for the last time. 

*** 

- Why are you doing this to me? To us? After all this time? - tears dripped down your cheeks, you were choking on your sobs. Aventurine wanted to hold you, make you feel like everything will be alright, but he knew what he needed to do to keep you safe. 

- Y/n, there is nothing to talk about, stop making this so hard. I never loved you in the first place, I just needed some distraction from my work. - he was always a great liar. You seemed to believe him and he thanked Aeons for it, despite how much it hurt him to see you in pain. It's the only way to make sure they won't touch you. - It was funny to play house with you for two years but that joke got old. You no longer entertain me.  

You looked into his eyes, begging for this to be a cruel prank, searching for any crumbs of love in his eyes, but they were cool and calculated. Speaking to him when he put on his poker face felt like talking to a wall. Despair slowly turned into hatred in you heart, it's fire kept you warm in spite of your ex boyfriend's cold attitude.  

- I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. I can't blame you for being a shameless liar, you told me that's who you are at the beginning. I should've trusted you when you showed me your true colors. I don't even want you to apologize, I played myself investing my love in you. Now get lost Vasha. - nickname once spoken tenderly now felt like a slap to Aventurine. How do you tell somebody in front of whom you bared your soul that they were only a toy to you?  

He spared you the rest of monologue he prepared and went outside with all his belongings packed in three suitcases. He glanced at the door of your shared place for the last time and whispered to himself. 

- In another universe I can be just your Kakavasha, kiss your face every morning after I wake up by your side and hold you every night, love you the way you deserve to be loved, make you proud of me. Protect you with my own strong arms and build our future with them. But Aventurine can't afford such luxury, not at your expense. Not if it can cost your life. 

***  

Just thinking about how he treated you made him want to punch himself in the face. He tried to reason with himself. Back then his position in Stonehearts was endangered after he risked his Cornerstone during the mission in Penacony.  If he lost all his power opponents he got during his work in IPC would go straight after you and he wouldn't be able to fight them off. Aventurine secured his rank and influences by now, as soon as he did that he got rid of enemies to make sure he will never feel this incapable of protecting those dear to him. Such as you. 

Aventurine knew he should not hope for rekindling of your love, not after all those terrible things he has said and done, but could you blame him? All his life nothing really belonged to him, nothing but your heart you so willingly gave to him. Even money he bargained with were only borrowed from IPC, just like his new name, dignity and life. Not to mention his whole new personality, attitude worn as a mask grew so deep into him it felt like a second face. Kakavasha was a different man, the kind that knew what was really important and what was not.  

One not impressed by money or political circus, instead wanting to protect and provide for those close to him, more down to earth and proud than Aventurine could ever be with all his wealth and victories. The one who stood in silence when the lights were gone, the one who observed emotionless when his fate was debated by the rest of the Stonehearts, the one who put his own body as a shield between his friends and dangers of battle.  

There was not much those two men caged together in one body had in common, with few exceptions. Both had iron will and ambition forged in hellfire they went through in this lifetime, both were aware that even with all the luck in the universe their destiny was inherently unjust and both knew they will love you till death returns Kakavasha's tired soul to his family and Gaiathra Triclops in afterlife.  

Alcohol circulated in his veins, clouding his mind and soothing his fears. He excused himself not caring about worried glances his coworkers sent him and rushed towards you on slightly wobbling legs, passing self-important gentlemen and overdressed ladies. Concentrated on getting to you as fast as possible he didn't plan on what to say so once your eyes crossed he just froze in place. At first your eyes widened in pure shock but right away hatred took over. Aventurine inhaled sharply when your brows furrowed and jaw clenched. He wasn't used to irritated glances from you, you were always so gentle with him. His mouth got dry. 

- Long time no see, dear. - your voice was more collected than you expected it to be. Sometimes you imagined meeting him again but even in your dreams you were never this calm and over him. So time truly does heal wounds. - I have no idea why do you think you can just approach me out of nowhere after what you did to me, but I won't let you waste any more of my time after you stole years of my life with your empty promises. So please, hurry up.  

- So cold, huh? - Aventurine awkwardly attempted to laugh his anxiety off. - I know I must come off as a complete jerk but please, listen to me. Back then... I... I don't know how to explain that. 

- Maybe for once just say the truth if you even know how to be sincere. - you scoffed. - Simply say it like it is.  

- I was one bad day away from losing my job and I needed to make sure you won't get hurt in the process.  

You raised one of your eyebrows.  

- So you can only love me when you are on the top of the world but as soon as problems emerge I am a burden to discard? - you rolled your eyes.  

- Don't say that... It's not like that. - he hid his left hand behind his back, toying with one of the poker chips he always carried around. - If they kicked me out all kinds of sick people who prayed for my downfall would go after me. None of them would miss the opportunity to hurt me even more by harming you.  

- If that's what you say... - you seemed unbothered.  

- What do you mean by that? - Avgin curved his lips in confusion. 

- How can I be sure you aren't lying? That wouldn't be the first time it seems. - you chuckled sadly.  

- Please don't use that against me, I had no choice... - before he had a chance to explain further you interrupted. 

- Why should I believe you? Not to mention at this point it wouldn't change anything. - you looked away. - Not after all this time. 

- How could I let you know it was a bluff if you cut me off completely? I couldn't find you anywhere, I tried for weeks. You moved out and blocked me. - Sigonian's voice broke when he choked on repressed emotions, wondering if you even listened to him, your expression not showing any sign of interest. 

- I don't care anymore. If you really wanted to you would find a way. - you shrugged. 

Before he could mention how he overused his political influence and still could not find a single trace of you black haired male approached you both with glass of wine. Aventurine sized him up, tall and well build man had a reserved and cool aura, Avgin could feel hidden power radiate from that guy, as if he had a beast under his skin. Something about the way dark-haired male looked at you made his stomach turn. 

- I brought the drink you wanted. Are you ok? Who's that man? - mysterious guy asked you, concerned by your uncomfortable body language. He had a deep, melodic voice but spoke in monotone way. 

- I should ask the same thing. - Aventurine did his best to sound intimidating. - You guys know each other? - he turned his gaze back to you. 

- Yes, it's my coworker, Dan Heng. We grew really close lately. - you smiled at that strange, tall man. Sigonian stopped himself from asking just how close the two of you were. - Thank you for a chance to catch up Aventurine, but you see, I'm very busy right now. I promised to introduce my... friend to a few people. 

You gave him venomous smile when Dan Heng put his arm around your waist protectively and pulled you away from your ex. Aventurine hated the way you let that guy touch you. Did you allow him even more in private? Did you let him do things Avgin used to do? Does that other man know how beautiful you look with messy hair and no make up, with flushed cheeks and tears of pleasure in your eyes? Do you sing for him the way you did for Aventurine every night? Does he wear your marks on his back? Gambler preferred not to know, but whether Dan Heng already took his place by your side or was yet working on it, he was sure of one thing.  

- It's not over yet. - Aventurine muttered, clenching his left fist till he heard a poker chip breaking in half. 

[metranart]

Toji Fushiguro x Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen smut)

⭕️ NSFW image link: Bouncing on Toji's cock like a bad stepsister.

Warning tag: nsfw, possessive! Toji Zenin, adopted sister! reader, soulmate au, soulmarks, capricious Toji, young-adult Toji, stalking, pinning, sexual content, sister and brother toxic dynamics, enemies to lovers, cock riding, pussy pounding, cock-drunk! reader, pet names, unprotected sex, praise, creampie, forced orgasm, love confessions, mention of Zenin clan, resented Toji obsessed with his adopted sister, smut.

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

Ever since Toji Zenin accidentally discovered that soulmark on the back of your neck, he hasn't been able to stay his eyes away from you. 

You, the adopted trophy of his father, his step-sister, the annoying prodigy which replaced him.... him the unworthy, black sheep of the Zenin Clan.

You were supposed to be HIS.... so you were fucked, yet you refused to be.

Since he came to you and you rejected him, trying to avoid Toji became almost an impossible feat, during every meal his hand found a way to slide up your thigh or down your lower back, tickling every nerve into live even over the clothes, always hidden under the table or the selective angle of his broad body, warm and confident in its journey, never failing to leave a trail of goosebumps.

He already had made the same mistake twice, and both times you had forgiven him when came in without your permission when you were taking a shower. 

A bunch of your panties had already disappeared from your drawer, and you refused to give it any importance because you presumed you knew who had them. 

When training was even worse, as if it were a game to him. He dodged every attack without a problem and made a point of always pressing his bulge against your butt, his strong chest against your back, his sweaty face against your neck or bury his thigh between your legs, always hard enough to draw a frustrated moan from you….

Even so, given your lack of acknowledgment to his advances, he gave himself the task to be bolder, less subtle, more direct and that was when, that deep, masculine voice began to whisper atrocious things to you... rather, sinful.

"–Did I hit you too hard.... or do you just want to be on your knees in front of me?"

"Are you looking for this?" Your white cotton panties dangled from one of his fingers, swinging like an implicit challenge. Jumping on your toes you tried to snatch the item from him when Toji smashed it against his face and inhaled.

"Fuck!" your undeniable fragrance soaked into his nose awakening every single one of his senses, goosebumps covering every inch of his skin as a shiver ran up his spine, "... my mouth waters, sis. You smell so damn niceeeeeee~"

And the harassment just kept growing....

"...We just ran out of hot water, (Y/N).” Toji muttered, leaning his thick frame against the arc of the door, only one towel hiding his modesty while other swung over his broad shoulders. “Maybe you should stop ignoring me and should have accepted my doting offer to share~” he made a meaningful pause knowing your mind would do the rest and once your cheeks were about to burst from embarrassment, finished, “... after all that's what we are born for."

But no matter how far he went, it was just words and fierce touches, nothing you couldn't resist. Until....

"You are running out my patience, princess." Toji barked out loud, scorn present on his usually bored tone, taking off his sweat-filled shirt after the particularly intense workout. Unable to look away fast enough, you chewed on your lower lip at the glorious sight. The ghost of a knowing smile curling Toji’s scarred lips.

"If I'm so inadequate, then train with someone stronger, it's not my fault that-"

"That's not what I mean." The tall man interrupted; you ignored him like you had been doing for months but this time Toji wasn't having it. He was fed up. "When is this stubborn head of yours going to accept that the world wants you to be mine, huh?"

You heard the frustrated growled question before you felt his boiling skin pinning you against the nearest wall. A shirtless Toji caging you while his hands held your wrists, and his mouth kissed the euphoric pulse on your neck. 

“Toji, wait-”

"I’m desperate to get out of here," he confessed in a hiss, contradictorily nipping the tip of your nose with more tenderness than you thought he was capable of, Toji hated the Zenin compound, "but I refuse to leave you behind-... I don't want to." 

Toji admitted under his breath, smearing the monstrous bulge, thick and heavy, against your clothed pussy, the shape of his cock fitting like a puzzle piece between your thighs as if it belonged there, waiting to be welcomed inside you. He prodded and prodded and prodded, the tight ring of your cunt over the shorts, making you squirm louder each time.

“Baby, I can't stand dreaming you every freaking night and thinking you every fuckin’ second of the day...!" He grunted against your ear, the tip of his wet tongue playing with your earlobe. "You've been crueler to me than anyone here-"

"No! I would never-"

"You torture me with your mere existence, your scent commands me to jack one out or else I lose my mind for the rest of the day," he chewed your ear gently, sensually, "the sound of your voice-... Shit! how bad I want to hear you call me yours... " 

You were having a hard time breathing as he clung to you more and more, it was like being sandwiched between two solid places. "I'm going to say what I never thought I'd say," he confessed, "and I'm only going to say it to you, just this once in our entire lives..."

You waited with bated breath. Toji heaved and grinned against the shape of your jaw and spoke.

"I want someone to love me," you were sure your heart just skipped a beat, "and I want that person to be YOU."

This confession touched you deeply, because it hid a double meaning. You knew his pain and the burden he carried, yet it didn't scare you or made you uncomfortable .... and that revelation, woke you up.

You had already endured entire months of discomfort and harassment…. but on this new light, after this confession… every touch, graze and sporadic encounter earned a new meaning. A flirtier angle, a male trying to woo his partner. A soul trying to sew itself together. 

Fate had already chosen him for you–.... being adopted by the Zenin Clan, having the gift of having cursed energy, growing up with him as your own family... nothing had been left to chance... absolutely nothing. If the universe wanted you together, who were you to refuse?

Your lips anxiously parted and Toji waited, bleeding-heart beating in his palm, for the first time in years, vulnerable and raw. At full display just for you to finish destroying him or sewing him back together.

"–Will you be ge-gentle?" you couldn’t stop the quiver in your voice, and he had to bite down a needy growl.

Toji Zenin, smirked. One of those smirks that means trouble.

⭕️ READ THE WHOLE STORY WITH PLOT: HERE

⭕️ NSFW image link: Bouncing on Toji's cock like a bad stepsister.

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[night-dazai]

helloo can you please do a threesome with toji and nanami but in a non sorcerers au maybe like a office au and they are my higher ups?

The au isn't necessary but pls do a threesome with toji and nanami

Toji x Reader x Nanami 

Tags: Degradation, rough sex, threesome, smacking ass, female reader, blow job, slight voyeurism smut with little plot.

(picture taken from Pinterest, shoutout to the original artist )

This was the worst, the most horrible thing that could happen this Friday.

 Tears threatening to spill from your eyes you stood there listening to your manager Nanami scold you. His voice was not loud or rough or anything but it was cold and demanding and ordering you to work better and you have not been doing it for a week. 

Your bf broke up or more like got caught by you when he was cheating with your best friend, your house water pipes all broke and you are staying at a hotel. It's the month's end and money is not flowing for you, crying about your break-up was not an option. 

You just had to mess up the worst client order to get shouted at now “I should smoothly fire someone for making such mistakes for a whole week y/n do you hear me ?” he asked looking at you as if you dared not give him a glance of your ugly face sobbing “so..sorry …I am sorry …sorry “ was all you could say looking down. 

Nanami sighed knowing he could not make up look up but smirked listening to your rambling “ I had a … bad…break …up ..it was not …water …pipes….house gone …” you kept rambling. Nothing made sense is what you thought and would greatly bend down again apologising “sorr..I am sorry “. 

Getting fed up with your rand words he spoke “ I should fire such a useless employee but .. it seems you could not get fired “ he said. Cold face getting smug as a smirk played on his lips as you looked up for the first time in 30 mins to look at him “Yes sir, what is it “ you asked.

Tears still running down your checks, but no black lines. Means you don't wear makeup or if you did it was not too much .” She looks naturally slutty huh ?” he thought and pushed his chair and manspread his legs throwing the files to the side “Kneel “ his voice still the same cold and demanding. 

It took you a few seconds to understand the demand, your face getting red and more tears spilt down. You were grasping at straws and this is the straw that you got but who cares “ he cheated not me “ you thought. Your boss was always the eye candy in the office, he was everyone's dream man but if you can spend a night with him why say no? 

Slowly you walked near him as he pulled you down making you kneel and grab your pony pulling your face to look at him “Now that's a good girl “ he mumbled and spread more to let you in. Pushing your face closer to his bulge by your hair “Be good the door is still open and it's 7:30 pm only office closes at 8 pm only “ he said and pulled you inside his desk and scooted closer pushing you inside the desk. 

Fumbling for a minute you freed his cock from the restraints of the creamy pants, and you stared. It was big mush bigger than your cheat of a man's dick and thick you could never imagine something so big in you. Testing waters you licked the tip with a strong lick and earned a hiss and tug at your hair “Don't play around or else it would be bad for you . “ the warning went straight to your core while your mouth to his dick sucking it. 

It tasted nice and salty but hot it throbbed each time you licked it, slowly you tried putting the tip and a little of the shaft in hollowing your checks, while you were busy thrusting his dick into your mouth little did you notice your wet panties and the knock on the door. 

His grip on your hand did not lose “Come in “ he said in the stoic voice he reserved for general business. You could not hear who it was but your heart was thumping hard very hard when a surprise thrust in your mouth had you moaning but nothing came out. 

You kept sucking him while the other person kept talking about how the client was very mad and that they might have to change the project manager itself. Hearing this your head hurts from the strong grip and your jaw burns with pain due to the subtle but firm thrusts. 

Clawing at his thighs you were forced to suck him off while after talking for what seemed like ages the person closed the door. The click sound was the same time your hair was free and your mouth empty. 

Coughing you looked up at your boss with tears strained, a red flush face while he looked at you with a blank face, eyes unreadable due to his glasses “Get up “ he said holding your hand and pulling you up and at the same time the door opened “ boss ..” a rough voice spoke. 

In an instant, you were pushed back to your knees and inside the desk “ Toji ..” kept saying looking quite surprised “Boss I know it's late have a minute ?” the bull-like man asked.

Your heart was beating faster than ever, he was the person sitting next to you at the desk, the other man girls drool over and someone who has the reputation of a fucking anyone. 

Nanami nodded while pressing his foot on your thigh and slowly worked his way to your cunt as you sat legs open on the tiny desk, pressing it.

Holding your breath you covered your mouth to stop the moans from spilling out as he continued to press on your clothed clit, you scooted closer to him and opened your legs more.

“Do you remember y/n ?” Toji asked making both you and Nanami pause “Yes what about y/n?” your boss asked and counited to rub his foot on you. “ Well I think she is having personal problems, she is not the type to mess up such a project. She has been looking down the whole week and one day she looked like she might have cried all night “ his voice got a little annoyed towards the end. 

Nanami pushed an eyebrow up “Mh… yeah I do know but you should also know that this project is about to leave our team cause of her “ his voice was lanced with anger. Toji nodded “Yeah I did hear that but …why not let her off with a warming or something, “ he asked scratching his head.

Scoffing Kento spoke while giving a particularly harsh press on your cunt “Why are you supporting her so much ? You have some relation with her ?” he asked. Toji smirked and looked at his boss without speaking he walked towards the door “No, her boobs and I say hi to each other . That's the only reason I look at that girl “ he locked the door and turned to face his boss with a smug look “ time is 8: 25 pm and more than half the people left the office you can let her out boss “. 

His words shocked Nananmi but he soon gathered his compurese “Well you are sharp “ he said pushing his chair back to let you crawl out. 

You did not want to, you were horrified. Your co-worker found you giving a BJ to your boss and he also just said that he likes your body. 

“Get out “ Kento spat as you crawled out and showed your drool and pre cum dripping chin and tear-filled eyes and wet checks.

“Thought I could join your game “ Toji said losing his tie and walking towards you and Nnanmi just sat and waited for his subordinate's next move. Whic was to rip your buttoned-up shirt open in one go and remove your bra as you struggled “Noooo….Toji !” you squealed but soon it stopped when Toji sealed your lips. 

Struggling under the man as he kept removing all the clothes on you “Please…. don't do this…” you cried and looked at your boss but he was busy enjoying the show. “Bend her here” Nanami said moving a few files and then you lay bent over the desk ass towards Toji and face towards your boss “Can I sir ?” Toji asked permission and got a nod in response. 

Soon you felt something hot, big at your entrance “Nooo..” you cried but it was not loud from your earlier dick-sucking. You tried to push him by his stomach but Toji grabbed your hands in one move and pined it on your back “Quite “ he said and entered your tight walls. 

“AH…….big…too bigg” you said squirming but not able to move much stood and took his length. You need not turn and look, you knew the was big and thick and not everything was in but you felt full as if it reached your throat. 

Kento grabbed your jaw “Keep busy “ saying he stuffed his dick back in your mouth. 

As to rammed his strong hips on your cunt, balls slapping your clit. You were there in between 2 men whimpering while the other abused your mouth. Thrusts from the back made you jerk forward but thrusts from Kento made you move a bit back. 

Being naked on Kento’s desk which was made from nice original oak wood rubbed at your hard perky nipples creating a lot more stumialtion. Never in your life did you imagine such a situation. 

But never in your life did you also receive so much pleasure, a dick filling you to the brim on both ends “Don't cum so fast “ Toji said slapping your ass again on the same side making it throb with pain. 

He pulled out when he felt your walls clenching on him tighter “You don't deserve to cum yet “ he said while your cunt clenched around nothing Nnankmi emptied his load in your mouth holding your jaw tightly making sure you took each drop.

They switched positions while Nnami entered your already wet hole, Toji took your mouth and rammed in with the same force while your pussy got abused more. “That's much better might think of keeping you around “ Nnami said giving strong thrusts as you moaned on Toji’s dick he hummed in satisfaction “Do it more “ he said. 

“You said his boobs were nice right ?” Nnanmi suddenly asked stopping his actions and making Toji stop his too “Yeah?” and with that, both men pulled out again and in a second you were flipped on your back by Nananmi “Let's have a look “ he said entering your hole again and flicking a nipple while Toji took your mouth again. 

The grip on your jaw tightened, and your neck hurt from the angel but your throat inside felt nice and soon you feel both men twitching inside your mouth and pussy. Toji came in your mouth which was already filled with Nnanmis's cum now mixed with his “Don't spill slut “ he warned gripping your neck while Nnanmi pulled your nipples while fucking you. 

Eyes rolling back both you and Nnananmi came at the same time, the laid hot and lots filled your gummy walls, he slowly pulled out with a lewd sound. Both men took a moment to admire their artwork “One more ?” Toji asked not satisfied. 

Coughing and stuttering you lay on the desk trying to catch your breath and life which seemed to be slipping away “Yes of course “ Kento said removing his shirt and revealing a chiselled body while Toji did the same and soon you knew, this was going to become your life in the office. 

At least you are not fired and you can still pay bills. 

[novamariestark]

He Hates You, He Hates You Not

Summary: Colombus and Wichita are tired of you and Tallahassee always at each other's throats. So they come up with the idea to lock you two in a room. What happens is the opposite of what you expected.

Warnings: 🔞, pet names (Darlin, Baby Girl), (unprotected sex), angry-ish sex, oral (f&m), piv, swearing, poorly written smut

Word count: 3604

Fandom: Zombieland

Pairing: Tallahassee x f!reader

[A/N] I don't know where this came from. It's 2:30 am so there may be some mistakes. 🤣

“Now, you listen here, Curly Fry!” you yelled through the door that had just been slammed in your face, “You open this fucking door right now, or I’m gonna kill you!”

“Shut up! You’re giving me a migraine,” the other occupant of the room spoke up.

You turned and snarled at him, “We wouldn’t even be in here if it wasn’t for you, Asshole!”

And it was true. Sort of. Tallahassee hated you and you had no idea why. He tolerates everyone else but you, he seems to hate with a burning passion, as if you were just a rotting corpse. But you being your stubborn self, gave as good as you got. A sarcastic, snarky comment from him was met with a sassier one from you.

For months, the two of you have been at each other’s throats and it seemed to get worse each time. Wichita and Colombus were fed up, so they took matters into their own hands and locked you both in a room together.

It was a dingy room, nothing very appealing to look at. Except him. When you first met him, you were drawn to him. He was attractive, he was older and he was sexy. The way his voice had a slight growl when he was angry or the way his arms flexed as he took down a zombie, made him even more attractive. But from the moment he laid his eyes on you, he kept you at arm’s length and started arguments with you over the smallest things and you couldn’t understand why.

Maybe you could find out now, but every time you have ever spoken to the man has turned into a shouting match, and you wanted out of this shithole.

But Tallahassee didn’t hate you. In fact, it was the opposite. When he first saw you, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and when he first saw you take down a zombie, his attraction grew and he could see himself falling for you. He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t allow himself to have a weakness (other than Twinkies of course). So he thought that if you hated him, it would make it easier for him. It didn’t. The first argument he started was something so minute but he made it into such a huge thing that you couldn’t ignore. What he hadn’t expected was for you to fight back.

And it only made him want you more.

“Is that so, Princess?” Tallahassee replied, sarcasm dripping from his words, “If I remember rightly, you threw a can of spaghetti at my head,”

“You said you wanted it,” you shrugged.

“On my plate, not on my head, sweetheart,”

“Don’t call me that,” You spat, glaring at him. The anger you felt toward him was tangible, the air between you crackling. You wanted to punch him, or better yet, rip his stupid grin off his face.

"Why? Don't you like it?" he asked, stepping towards you like a predator closing in on its prey.

"I don't like you," you hissed, meeting his gaze unflinchingly, pushing him back away from you. This time you stalked towards him, as if he were the helpless little lamb, "You're an asshole, Tallahassee." You pushed him again, “You’ve treated me like dirt ever since I met you,” you push him again but this time he grabbed your wrists as he backed up against the table behind him, “Let go of me!”

“Not until you stop acting like a brat,”

“You would know,”

Neither of you notice that you were both moving in until your lips crash together. You're both startled for a moment, but the anger between you seems to vanish as your mouths fit together perfectly. Tallahassee's lips are soft and full, his tongue pushing past your lips, demanding entry into your mouth. You part your lips, eager to taste him, and it's like the world around you fades away. Your hands grip his shoulders, pulling him closer as he turns you to sit on the table. His hips grind against yours, and you moan into his mouth.

You're both panting, your chests heaving as you break away from the kiss. Your eyes lock, and for a moment. "What the hell just happened?" you thought, you were confused but you didn't want it to be over. You wanted to taste him again. You had to.

Tallahassee licks his lips and leans in, his lips pressing against yours again, slowly this time. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, tangling with yours as you moan, arching your back against him. He cups your face in his hands, holding you still as he deepens the kiss, his hips grinding against yours in perfect rhythm.

Suddenly, he pulls away and drops to his knees in front of you. His hands find your hips, gripping them tightly as he looks up at you with those intense blue eyes. His hands move to unzip your jeans, and with a practiced motion, they fall to the floor, leaving you in only your lacy black underwear. His breath hitches as he takes in the sight of you, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

Then he removes your black panties, and you gasp as the cool air hits your skin. Tallahassee looks up at you, his gaze intense, and you can feel yourself growing wetter at his attention. He places a hand on your thigh, rubbing gently, and you arch your hips into the touch. "Do you want this?" he asks, his voice rough and low.

You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in short gasps as he continued to tease you. "Y-yes," you managed to say, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. He smiled at your response, his gaze never leaving yours, and then he leaned forward, pressing his lips against your inner thigh. You cried out as his mouth moves higher, kissing and nipping at your skin, making you feel so sensitive, so alive.

His tongue finds your bundle of nerves and your hips jerk off the table, your head thrown back in ecstasy. He teases you with gentle sucking, using his teeth, making you moan and writhe under his touch. His other hand moves to your other thigh, rubbing, teasing, as he continues to feast on your womanhood. You feel the pressure building inside you, the need to come, to be released, and you can't help but arch your back, crying out his name. "Tallahassee!"

Finally, you feel him push a finger inside you, stretching you, filling you. It's almost too much, it's perfect. And then he adds another, thrusting slowly, relentlessly, each movement driving you closer to the edge. You can feel the muscles in your thighs tighten, the tension building, the need to come, to be free.

"Tallahassee," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Please..."

His fingers move faster, curling at just the right angle, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. You grip the edge of the table, your knuckles white as your release rushes over you in a powerful wave. Your back arches, your hips buck, and you cry out his name, feeling the tension ease from your body. Tallahassee watches you with a mix of awe and desire, as you slowly come back to reality, your breathing returning to normal.

"Look at you, finally putting that mouth of yours to good use," you breathed heavily, watching him as he looked up at you with those intense blue eyes. You reached out to stroke his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin against your fingertips.

Your hand moved to hook under his chin, urging him off his knees. You maneuvered so that he was now leaning against the table.

"Yet yours still could use some work," he teased, a playful smile curling his lips. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your stomach.

"Is that so?" you asked as you bit your lip. Before he could answer, your hands went to his belt, unbuckling it and sliding it off. You undid the button on his jeans and lowered the zipper, revealing his hard length. He was bigger than you had expected, and you felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness course through you.

You sank to your knees, eager to repay him for the incredible pleasure he'd just given you. Taking his erection in your hand, you wrapped your lips around the tip, tasting the saltiness of his skin. He let out a groan that vibrated against your tongue, and you felt a thrill of power course through you at the sound. Your hand moved up and down his shaft, stroking him as you took more of him into your mouth.

He tasted like fire and spice, musky and familiar. You teased him with your tongue, flicking and dancing around the sensitive head, feeling his hips begin to move, urging you on. You took more of him, stretching your mouth as you sucked, relishing the feel of him growing harder, hotter in your mouth. You looked up at him through your lashes, watching as his face contorted with pleasure, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

You began to bob your head, moving up and down his length, your hand curling around the base, squeezing gently. You felt the muscles in his thighs tense, felt the heat emanating from his body as he grew closer to release. You took him deeper, feeling him stretch your throat, and his hips bucked forward, pushing against your hand. The sound of his pleasure echoed in the room, filling your ears and making your heart race.

You looked up at him, watching his face as he threw his head back, his eyes squeezed shut, his teeth bared in a grin of pure ecstasy. The veins in his neck stood out, pulsing with each ragged breath he took. His hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements, urging you on. The taste of him, the feel of him in your mouth, the sound of his pleasure... it was all intoxicating, and you couldn't help but lose yourself in the sensation.

As he grew closer, you felt the tip of his cock brush against the back of your throat, and you welcomed it, taking him deeper. His hips bucked wildly, his moans growing louder, more desperate. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, could almost taste the anticipation in the air. With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his seed filling your mouth, spilling down your throat. You swallowed every drop, savoring the salty, bitter-sweet flavor.

When you calmed down, you start to realize what happened. And you don't know why. He hated you. Why did he let this happen? You put your clothes back on and sat on the table beside him, where he still lay, catching his breath. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, seeming to think the same thing you were.

"Why do you hate me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between you, heavy and charged with emotion. He didn't answer immediately, just continued to stare at the ceiling, his expression unreadable. You swallowed nervously, wishing you hadn't asked the question.

"I don't," he said, finally meeting your eyes. "I never did." His voice was rough, like he'd been screaming for hours.

"Then why?" you asked, your voice still trembling with uncertainty. "Why did you act like you did?"

"Because I was scared of letting you close." His admission was quiet, barely audible over the sound of your heart racing. "I didn't want to risk having something else those rotted assholes could take from me,"

He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. His gaze was intense, searching your face for some sign of understanding. "I thought if I hated you, if I made you hate me, then it wouldn't hurt,"

"I understand," you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinched at the contact, then relaxed slowly as your fingers trailed lightly over his skin. "I had a daughter,"

You paused, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. "She was 5 years old when she died. It felt like someone had ripped out my heart. I didn't want to feel that again. To let anyone close enough to do that." you looked down at your hands as they danced together in your lap, "So I do understand, believe me,"

He looked at you, his expression softening. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

You shrugged, trying to smile. "It's okay."

He studied you for a moment, then leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. This time it was different than before, slower and more gentle. His hand cupped your face, cradling it as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the shape of your lips, teasing the seam until you opened for him, letting him in. You could feel the weight of his heart in this kiss, the desperation of someone who had been alone for far too long, who had closed themselves off. And yet, there was something else there, too: a fragile tenderness, a spark of hope that you hadn't felt from him before.

As the kiss ended, you both drew in ragged breaths, your eyes locked on each other's. You reached up, tracing the lines of his jaw, marveling at the way his stubble scratched against your skin. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your cheek, your earlobe. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for everything." You knew then that he meant it, that he was finally beginning to let go of the pain and the anger and the fear that had been holding him back.

"I know a way you can make it up to me," you said with a shy smirk, leaning in to kiss him softly.

"Oh yeah? How's that Darlin'?" He replied, his voice thick with desire. You could feel his erection already starting to harden against your leg as he moved closer.

You stood from the table and began to undress, he watched your every move with hungry eyes. As you stepped out of your panties, you turned around slowly, letting him take in your naked form.

"Come here," he growled, reaching out to pull you into his embrace. You climbed onto the table straddling his hips, feeling the hardness of his arousal against your aching sex. He cupped your breasts in his hands, teasing and pinching the nipples until they were erect and tender. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, leaning in to kiss you as he began to rock his hips up against yours.

You giggled but before you can respond, the door unlocks and in walks Colombus.

"Oh my God! My eyes!" he screamed, covering his face with his hands when he saw that you and Tallahassee were completely naked. "I-I'm sorry, I should have knocked!" he stammered, his face red with embarrassment.

"Yeah you really should have, you little cock-blocking spit fuck," Tallahassee growled, glaring at Columbus as he continued to stare at you and him, clearly mortified. "And stop staring at my girl. Get out!"

Columbus gulped, clearly shaken by Tallahassee's anger. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I just... I thought you might want to leave but I see you're okay in here."

Colombus rushed out the room, the door slamming behind him. You could hear the quickened footsteps practically running away.

"Where were we?" Tallahassee asked, nudging your hips with his. You moaned, arching into the contact, and he smirked. "Oh, right. I was about to make it up to you." He growled, his voice low and rough. He began to rock his hips harder against yours, his erection sliding effortlessly against your wet folds. Teasing you as his cock rubbed against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Yeah, you better," you moaned as you needily grind against him, trying to slip him inside of you. Of course, he noticed.

"Needy, baby girl?" he asked, knowing full well that you wanted him inside of you. He wanted to tease you more, but his cock twitched, aching to be buried deep inside of you. He groaned, feeling the head of his cock brush against your entrance. "I'm not gonna last long, Darlin'. You're so wet for me." He leaned in, kissing your neck, nipping at your skin.

You arched your back, pressing your breasts into his chest as you moaned his name. "Please, Tall..." you breathed, wanting him to finally fill you up. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding you as he began to push inside. There was a burning sensation as he stretched you open, but it was a good kind of pain. You moaned loudly as he bottomed out, his thickness making you feel full and warm.

He groaned, burying his face in your neck as he held you close. His hips began to move, slowly at first, but gaining speed as he found a rhythm. The table beneath you creaked with each thrust, the sound filling the room as he took you roughly. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as the pleasure built inside you.

He stilled and you were about to yell at him when he leans back on his hands, "Take what's yours, baby girl," he growled sitting back, wanting to watch you fuck yourself with his cock. You gasp and lean forward, bracing yourself on his chest as you begin to ride him, your body tight and wet around his length. "Fuck yeah," he moans, watching your breasts sway with each stroke.

"Make yourself cum on my cock, baby girl," he groaned, he took one of your hands off his shoulder and placed it on your clit, "Play with yourself, make yourself cum," he ordered, watching your face as you obeyed. You moaned, your fingers pressing down on your sensitive nub as you rode him harder.

"Oh God, yes," you moaned, your hips moving faster. Tallahassee could feel you getting closer, the tightness around his cock telling him that you were about to come. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." you panted, your fingers moving faster. You arched your back, crying out as the pleasure washed over you, your orgasm crashing through you in a wave of heat. Your muscles contracted around him. Your juices coating his length as you came.

You leaned forward to kiss him before climbing off him and the table. You could see the momentary look of confusion on his face when you bent over the table. Your dripping hole just patiently waiting for him to fill it once more. He let out a deep chuckle before climbing off the table and positioning himself behind you, his hands on your hips.

He leaned in, kissing the nape of your neck before thrusting forward, burying himself inside of you. You moaned, arching your back as he began to move, his hips slapping against your ass.

"That's it, baby girl. Take it," he growled, his voice thick with desire. His thrusts became faster, harder, as he lost control. The feel of your body around him, the sounds you made, the way you moved... it was too much. "Fuck, I'm close," he warned, knowing that he wouldn't last much longer.

"Let go, baby," you urged him, needing him to release into you. His hips snapped forward one last time, and he let out a hoarse cry as he came, filling you up. You felt the hot liquid spill over the entrance of your body, coating your inner walls. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder blade as he tried to catch his breath.

You feel him pull out of you and you whimper at the loss of his heat. But then he's there, kissing your neck and murmuring words of love and affection into your ear. "I love you, Darlin'. I've always loved you." The weight of his words catches you off guard, and you turn in his embrace, looking up at him. His eyes are intense, his expression sincere.

You got dressed, your legs gave out beneath you but before you could hit the floor, Tallahassee caught you. He picked you up effortlessly and headed towards the door.

"Come on, Darlin'," he said softly, "Let's get you to bed," normally, you liked to do things on your own, you didn't need things to be done for you, but you loved the way he was taking care of you. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Would it?

He carried you through the area where the others were. You didn't take much notice. You were tired. You vaguely remember hearing Colombus' voice.

"I need therapy to forget that,"

"There is an amazing therapist not far from here," Tallahassee replied, his tone sounding so serious, Colombus sat up, waiting to hear more about this therapist, "I believe her method is to eat your brain so you can't think anymore,"

"Ha ha, very funny," Colombus replied dryly.

The next thing you knew, you were lightly placed on a soft surface. Soon you felt the bed dip beside you. He gently moved you to lie on his chest, placing a soft kiss in your hairline. You yawned and stretched, feeling incredibly content. Tallahassee wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you close.

"I love you, Tally," you murmured sleepily.

He let out a soft chuckle, kissing your forehead. "I love you more, Darlin'."

[oroontheheels]

Daddy’s gonna be real honest with you kittens.

I’m disappointed with current Venom Run. Let me be real CLEAR here. I don’t hate it. I don’t have beef with its creator. So for a long period of time I was telling everyone “it’s a mess, but it’s better that Donnie Cates”.

But I think comparing them is not correct and let me explain why.

So Donnie Cates. Our boy. Extra edgy, made some terrifically BAD retcons, hated symbrock, tried to make Eddie Brock as trad as possible (giving him human son and all). Plus he ignored the fact that Sleeper was a child of Venom and Eddie. “nOt BioLoGiCalLy” Eddie’s but he called Eddie “father” and they both deeply cared about each other. So Donnie Cates couldn’t allow this either.

But! Donnie Cates while fighting the yaoi made the story ironically even more gayer. It was a train wreck but at the end of the day at least it was fun to laugh at this “closeted shipper” as I like to call him.

And most importantly? At the end they were still “Venom family”. All 4 of them. In Donnie Cates comics.

Now Al Ewing and Ram V… It was… ok. I like Dylan, I like Venom, I like Sleeper. I didn’t like that they “killed” Eddie right at the start of the story and sent him running solo trough time traveling shenanigans. I liked him interacting with Doctor Doom. I liked Meridus being gay with Kang and with that one old man.

But what I lacked is interactions between Venom and Eddie. They almost didn’t interact.

But like, okay. Let Eddie do his thing, let Venom singlemom it out. Also did I mention Ewing and V made Dylan Venom’s son? That was NICE. That’s I liked. A LOT.

And immideatly got my hops up.

Which was a mistake.

So the problem is where Donnie was closeted shipper, I’m starting to believe that Ewing and V don’t actually see Venom and Eddie as a romantic partnership. Or even all that important partnership.

If you check Spider Man Venom War comics, Venom talks A LOT about how much “Saint Peter”(Parker) means to him. It’s very gay very romantic very deep. But at the next pages it also downgraded Eddie role in Venoms life?? Venom is like “so yeah Peter taught me to save lives so I saved Eddie from offfing himself”. And that’s almost it. No emphasis on their bond, on Eddie’s feelings, of their bond. Almost nothing, really.

And now it’s Venom War and Venom says “wow Peter and I are sooo perfect, also it feels nice punching Eddie in the face”.

So what. Venom hates Eddie now? After all those years of forgiveness?? And it wasn’t elaborated in the slightest??

I would hate it but I WOULD understand if they wanted to make Parker new host for Venom for a while. But they don’t?? Apparently Al Ewing planing to give Venom new host (all of the candidates SUCK for the role btw). And if I understood one of his interviews correctly he want to send all the characters their separate ways.

Here’s the statement

Which annoyed me. A LOT. Like i understand that cis hetero males bring all the money to Marvel. We little faggots don’t bring so much cash. So our feelings and wants are not important. But isn’t there big ass FANDOM for symbrock? People who advertise comics for free with their art and activities?? Are we not important whatsoever? And on top of that wasn’t EVERYONE celebrating when Eddie got Venom back (in 2016)?? Don’t we all love homoerotic weird ass bond these two have??

And what does it even mean “yeah it’s been a while since Eddie and Venom have been together”. It wasn’t. Donnie Cates first made Venom into amnesiac DOG, then sent him into exile and then kept him and Eddie from having meaningful interaction until the very end of his run. Everyone who loves symbrock were STARVING.

And Al Ewing and Ram V story separated Eddie into his own story line.

And now Al Ewing tilling us “yeah it’s been too long, it’s time to move on”.

It’s like giving starving person a cup of water and saying “well now you are fed, let’s go on a 20km hike”.

“My work here is done” Tuxedo Mask meme

So like… yeah.

If they’ll make Sleeper a traitor this will be so bad. This will drop from 6/10 to 0/10 immediately.

Not looking forward to Venom future.

And the WORST part? I feel like they are pulling out “this relationship is toxic so it’s cancelled” card on symbrock. They never do that on hetero ships, but they happily destroy gay ships with that argument.

It sucks.

I hope I’m wrong. But like Venom gets new host this December. There’s not much room left to give us decent amount of Symbrock IF writers even want that.

[melonberry]

Wicked Game (part three)

Pairings: Jey Uso x Reader / Roman Reigns x Reader

Warning: mentions of cancer , blackmail , guns , violence , smut , angst , manipulation , infidelity , toxic relationships , Roman is a bit of an asshole in this story |ROMAN IS VERY MANIPULATIVE AND CONTROLLING IN THIS PART, HE REALLY IS A DOUCHEBAG|

Plot: The Bloodline is a notorious mafia gang in Pensacola. They trade illegal weapons with other dangerous criminals. Roman notices a change in Jey, his right hand man, and realises that his secret relationship with YN, a regular woman who works as a nurse, is the cause for his mistakes. Roman vows to make his life a living hell.. even if it means involving YN.

Jey was curious.

His cousin hasn’t been this understanding after a fuck up. Especially one this big. Romans hand rested on Jey’s shoulder and he led him down to the basement of the house. Hey never liked coming down here, mainly because he knows what usually happens.

As they made their way down the steps and through one of the doors his eyes widened as they landed on the man they had been keeping captive for around 5 weeks. He had tried to expose the bloodline and take them down but because of Jey, Roman managed to catch a whiff of the plan. They kept him locked up ever since.

“Is this the gift?” Jey asked with furrowed brows. He kind of knew it wasn’t but Roman was being weird and secretive which is odd for him, especially when Jey is his right hand man and he never kept anything from him. Roman had let out a small humorous hum before squeezing Jey’s shoulder.

“No Uce,” Roman started before spinning Jey around on his heels and patting him on the shoulder. “She is.”

Jey felt like his heart was in his mouth ready for him vomit it up. Her small body was cowered in the corner and even in the dark room, he could see the terror across her face, her make up smeared with a hint of disgust as she recognises the man stood before her.

“Because of you slipping up more than once,” Roman said stepping to the side of Jey and pushing his hands in his pockets. “I had a little dive into your phone, and low and behold, this little pocket rocket appeared.” Jey didn’t take his eyes off of YN. He couldn’t. He was trying to apologise with his gaze but it clearly didn’t go through to her. “And trust me when I say, if I had her sending me the kind of stuff she sends you,” Roman teased as he walked over to YN, kneeling down to her height. “Our whole cover would’ve been blown months ago.”

“Cus, how did you- what have you done?” Jey questioned only now managing to conjure up a sentence, his gaze leaving YN and landing on his cousin.

“What I’ve done?” Roman asked. “This is all you Jey!” Roman said standing up and turning to his cousin. “You led me to this beautiful girl, and I want her to be apart of our bloodline.”

“Roman, are you crazy?” Jey yelled but it was more of a whisper, he didn’t want to scare YN even more. “She can’t be apart of the bloodline. She’s not blood.” Roman squared his shoulders before stepping in front of Jey, who subconsciously lowered his head.

“I’m the leader of this group. I’m the head of the table and if I say she’s in the bloodline, then I mean.. she’s in the bloodline.” Romans tone was deep and filled with authority. Jey glanced at his cousin before his gaze flew to YN, she was panting and looked as if she was trying to go through the wall. Roman stepped towards her and wrapped his hands around her wrists gently. Hey noticed she was trying to pull them from his grasp but Roman didn’t relent. “Now my darling, stand up.” Roman ordered as he pulled YN to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, her back pressed against his chest. “In order for you to not betray us and go running to the feds, imma need you to do a small favour.” Jey watched with guilt in his eyes as Roman pulled a gun from his back pocket. “You just need to pop a bullet in this man’s chest, sweetheart.”

YN began to struggle even more, the strangled cries echoing through the basement and through Jeys heart.

“Roman-”

“Jey, if I hear you speak one more time.. I’m gonna make her pop it into your chest. Heard?” Roman threatened and Jey closed his mouth before rubbing his hands through his hair. This was his fault, he thought. YN’s cries didn’t let up and neither did her fight against Roman. She balled her hands into fists attempting to stop Roman from placing the gun in her hand. “Take the gun YN.”

“No!”

“If I have to ask you one more time, then you might want to say goodbye to your little brother Jacob.” Roman said with a smile on his face. YN instantly stilled. Her body freezing at the mention of her little brothers name. “Yeah, I did my research baby girl. Your brother Jacob or as you like to call him, Jake. 22 years old and he’s got brain cancer right? You’ve been working overtime to try and save up money to afford the hospital bills, and I know you help take care of him with your mother.” Roman continued. Even more tears ran down YN’s face at Romans words. “But if you do what I ask, a very simple ask might I add.. then maybe a kind donation of a million dollars would appear for your very sick brother.” YN let out a whimper as her fists released and Roman was able to slide the gun into her left hand. “Don’t let me down, baby girl.” Roman whispered in her ear before pushing her towards the man chained to the wall and unconscious.

YN held the gun cautiously before she slowly lifted it, her hand shaking from terror. She aimed the gun at the man as a sob pushed past her lips. Before YN pulled the trigger she threw her arm around and aimed the gun at Jey. He took a small step back and with wide eyes stared at YN.

“You pull the trigger on him and I will have your brother blacklisted from every hospital in the United States of America.” Roman seethed. YN bit her lip before lowering the gun. “If I even have to think about asking you to do it, then it’s not going to end well for you, or your family.” Romans tone got more malicious and more aggressive.

She knew she had no choice, she had to do it. She took in a deep breath before she raised the gun one more time and aimed it at the guy before closing her eyes. She let the breath go before her finger squeezed the trigger fully, the sound of the bullet popping out of the gun and into the man’s chest caused a scream to exit her throat and echo around the walls that secluded her into this nightmare. YN opened her eyes and saw the man now hanging with blood coming directly from his heart. Her mouth was open agape and the gun slipped from her fingers before she heard a whistle.

“If you’re telling me that was the first time you’ve ever pulled a trigger, I don’t believe you.” Roman said picking up the gun and putting it back into his pocket. He rounded YN and stood in front of her, a smirk plastered on his lips. “Welcome to the bloodline baby girl.”

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#21: Rules Keep Changing (S5E11)

This scene right here - so beautiful and also very telling. I love this heart-to-heart that shows how much they can reach each other. Scenes like this remind me that we really watched two characters so wholly fall in love with everything the other is. And not only fall in deep love, but deep respect, appreciation, and trust. They really saw each other, understood each other, and changed the game for each other. And of all their bonds in the show, Rick and Michonne were always the most emotionally vulnerable with each other too. The way they became each other’s best friend plays an important part in the way they became each other’s other half...

I love the staging of this scene with Grimes 2.0 staying by their car from a distance while team family fix the RV. Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Judith are so clearly a four-person family right here and now. Like Michonne is Rick’s best friend at this time, but she's his future wife too, make no mistake. And I just appreciate that when their group got bigger upon reuniting with the rest of tf in s5, Rick and Michonne still kept super close to each other.

I love that Michonne shares some wisdom with Rick. She tells him the fight is over, and it’s so vital that Rick has someone in his life like Michonne who sees him so clearly and can breathe life into him and remind him that while the fight keeps you warm and fed it can turn on you if you don’t learn to let it go.

Rick needed to hear that because, as we see, he still was in that Terminus train car mindset which was making him go a bit mad. It’s precious the way Michonne softly says she knows it’s hard cuz Rick needs someone to be this gentle, compassionate, and understanding with him. 

And the way that Rick, even in this PTSD state, really tries to hear her out. The best. Rick and Michonne always communicate from a place of vulnerability, leveling with each other and sharing their own experience to resonate and relate with the other. It’s a beautiful thing.

Michonne looks at him so sweetly in this scene. And when she says the fight turns on you - Rick will learn how true that is because not releasing the fight in ASZ leads to some messy situations.

Rick tells Michonne that the concept of letting go is similar to what Bob was trying to tell him back at the church. "What to risk. When it’s safe." Rick will always pull my heartstrings because, at the end of the day, he’s a family man who just wants to keep his family safe at all costs, and that can lead him to be on high alert, which is stressful. 

You can just feel how much he carries the weight of the world in this scene. But having Michonne here to offer a refreshing reminder that it’s okay to let go, shows he does not have to carry the weight alone. Rick and Michonne now have a true partner and someone they can be fully human with.  

And then y’all, it gets quite interesting when Rick says, “When to let someone in.” I’ve always liked that he says "someone" and not "people." It’s like Rick's been pondering a more intimate level of letting someone in. Even the way he pauses, it’s like he deep down knows that “let someone in” means something more personal than just letting strangers like Aaron into the group. And right now, he’s confiding this to someone he has let in and wants to let in even more. 

And again, Rick is the type of guy who seems to really value a soul-level connection, and he seems to be the type who wouldn’t act thoughtlessly when letting someone into his heart (unless suffering from extreme PTSD). Letting someone in would need to have a deeper meaningfulness for him, and I know that at this point, Rick is slowly but surely coming around to the fact that it’s the woman right here on this car with him that he most needs to let in.

Then Rick says, "The rules keep changing." And it made me think about how I've always felt that because Rick is such a dutiful guy, it seemed to be such a stirring rule change for him when he was so captivated by Michonne in their early days of meeting each other. I really think that was a part of Rick's s3 hostility with Michonne at times because he was shaken that he had this draw and attraction to her so soon after losing Lori when the "rules" would suggest he should just be grieving.

All that to say, rule changes aren’t always easy for him, but it’s sweet how he acknowledges they’re changing and is coming around to being more open to it.

And then Michonne just puts the ultimate cherry on top of the scene by saying, “It did for me.”

Now, y’all, watching this back rn um…I’m surprised Richonne didn't become official the very next episode. Like what? I’m sorry, but there was nothing platonic about this exchange...

The way she says that and smiles at him. The way he stays looking directly at her after and then stays quiet and looks away cuz you know he had some thoughts that weren't platonic. This was giving 'I’m in love with you' energy from both of them. Can’t tell me any different. 😌

I just need to take a moment to unpack what this could mean. R: The rules keep changing. M: It did for me. Like wow. I guess if I had to be completely un-Richonne-minded (which admittedly ain't easy) then Michonne could just mean, 'I never thought I’d learn to let go and let people in but the rules changed and I’ve took the risk to let all of you in and embrace team family as her family.'

Sure. But like come on, I feel it’s not pushing it too far to say that there’s an element of this being about the two of them specifically. Rick changed the rules for her and opened her heart up in a way she didn’t think would happen again, and Michonne absolutely did the same for Rick. There's an intentional reason this exchange is between the two of them and not anyone else from the group.

Plus, while I'm always unsure of exactly how much time has passed during any given season in TWD, I'd venture to say that this moment occurs less than two months before Richonne becomes canon so it feels like this scene does want to start setting up that these two are coming closer to fully realizing their feelings for each other.

This really felt like one of the closest Rick and Michonne ever came pre-canon to acknowledging the love they’ve developed for each other. It was a beautiful scene, and to this day when I hear their moment interrupted by that RV starting to work I’m just looking over at the RV like...

Lol just cuz I wanted Rick and Michonne to get to stay in this very telling private moment a little longer and elaborate. But I understand their precious slow burn had to continue its steadily rising flicker before the wildfire could truly ignite in season 6. So this scene instead concludes with Rick excusing himself. He says he needs a moment as Michonne watches him with this loving compassionate expression.

Rick then goes to hide weapons before they take the leap that Michonne motivated and go to ASZ. Rick hiding the weapons shows that he clearly still doesn't know if this Alexandria stuff is legit, but even still they pull up to those ASZ gates (oh we're gonna talk about it 😋) And why do they still pull up? Because Rick trusts Michonne. Even over his own hesitancies. Love it.

And I adore the lingering shot of Michonne watching Rick as he goes. It’s so evident that he means so much to her, and I love that she is the one who most gets to see Rick the human being. And Michonne is so equipped to love and support him in all his humanness, just as Rick is with her.

This scene is just gold and genuinely meaningful to Richonne and their soulmate connection if you ask me. Rick and Michonne changed each others' rules and each other's lives. Oh, and changed mine too. 😌👌🏽

[your-nanas-house]

people (me) needs more one shots of neil lewis and raymond leon to stay alive. Anything will be received with total appreciation n.n

For real! Such good characters, love them so much 🍓

In my neighbour's pool

◇ Pairing: Neil Lewis X gn!reader

◇ Warnings: smut, handjob, friends to lovers kind of, illegality, hate

◇ Summary: You're fed up with your neighbor and Neil knows it, so he makes a plan to get back at them and spend the evening with you.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

It was a summer evening, it was hot and your best friend Neil had come to your house to tell you about his day.

He often came to visit you to steal things from your fridge and complain about his love life and the terrible orgasms he could only have while watching porn or sometimes movies.

You didnt mind most of the time, you loved Neil even though he could be quite nerdy and boring sometimes but you appreciate his company— not that evening though.

Your usual focus on him wasnt there, your eyes were glued on the house of your neighbour as you sipped your coke.

"Has Mrs. Bailey still bothered you?" Neil's voice interrupted your thoughts of hate and annoyance; he noticed that you werent actually listen to him since you were doing that humming and short replies that you always did when you werent really following something.

"Yeah, she's been a pain the the ass again. I swear I cant take it anymore, that lady needs to take some calming meds—" you scoffed, gritting slightly your teeth as you remembered what happened that morning

"She even got a fucking new pool in her backyard—" you murmured in anger, glancing at Neil when you noticed the silence.

His light blue eyes were focused on the house as well, his hands on his hip as he thought almost posing

"Why dont we go use that pool of hers? We could do something to take reveage" he suggested before listing options that he saw in a few recent movies he saw at the shop with his coworkers.

You honestly didn't mind the idea but you didn't want to cross the line too much, as not to get in too much troubles. If he would have suggested that a few weeks earlier you wouldn't have agreed but now that you were still extremely pissed at her, you went along with Neil.

Thats how you found yourself in the warm water of your neighbour's pool, wearing your swimsuit just like Neil, your hand stuck in his as you lowered it to free his hard cock.

His tongue kept exploring your mouth as your hand explored his length, squeezing his heavy balls to earn a whimper from his pretty swollen lips.

"You are pretty long, man" you murmured, kissing and nibbling at the tender skin of his neck, focusing on his adam's apple

"And-so-fucking-hard" your murmured as you stroked his cock a few times, taking a small pause at every word.

Neil's face was covered of a soft blush, his eyes were rolling back as his hips kept moving forewards, meeting your movements to fuck your hand faster— he was nearly meowing, letting soft moans and whimpers leave his mouth.

You could feel that he was getting closer and closer to his peak, his muscles flexing against your body, which was pressed against his, his cock throbbing and twitching at every movement of your skilled hand.

Neil came hard, letting out a meowing noise before catching his breath, his icy blue eyes now back open and focused on you

"Fuck that was—" he murmured, ready to praise your hidden skills and kiss you when a noise interrupted the both of you.

A shiver run down your spine when your neighbour walked out in her backyard, holding a bowl of milk and another one with cat's food

"Petunia, my lovely kitty, is that you? Mommy had your food—" the old annoying lady asked, making you hold back a laugh as you fixes quickly Neil's swim trucks— leading him quickly away from there as soon as you realized that the woman had probably heard your best friend's pathetic moans, mistaking them for the whining of one of her 8 cats.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter