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on-the-clear-blue · 6 months ago

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Dead Man's Diner pt 4

"THOSE FUCKING BITCHES SAM!" Danny shouted as he stormed into his apartment, slinging his backpack off by the door as he toes his shoes off.

Rounding the corner of the hallway, Danny was met with Tucker, shirtless with only a pair of plaid boxers on, staring at him with sleep glazed eyes, he had a box of cereal in one hand, and a bottle of oat milk in the other, raising the bottle in a salute, Tucker stuffed a handful of cereal into his mouth before taking a swig of the milk, holding up a hand to stop Danny from speaking as he chewed, only letting his hand fall before he spoke.

"What?"

"The Bats are fucking assholes!"

Tucker looked back at the bottle of oat milk, sighed and placed it back in the refrigerator, chucking the box of cereal on the counter, Tucker grabbed Danny by the shoulders.

"Of course they are Jerks Danny..." his grip tightened as he started to shake the Halfa, "I have ten deadlines and 5 missed calls, I really want to geek out right now about you meeting the local heroes but I really don't have the time, so yes, jerks, tell me about it later okay?"

Danny phased through the tough grip on his shoulders, letting out a giggle as he watched Tucker fumble as he no longer had someone to help steady himself, "I did yell specifically for Sam, Tuck so you can't get mad at me! Go huant the Wanyetech building, I know for sure those dudes are way more dead inside than I am!"

Getting a groan from his friend at his dead pun, Danny continued into the apartment, snatching Tuckers cereal box off the counter as he went to sit in the living room.

Spotting Sam typing something on a lap top, her big over the ear headphones blaring as he flops down next to her, which thankfully was enough for her to notice him.

Offering g the box of cereal to her, she sent him a tired smile as she slipped the head phones off and took some of the fruit flavored rings, "Hey there Deadstuff...how was work?"

Danny sent her a grin, "Well, Clocky decided to throw me a bone and I think I got this? He is a little bitch boy that sends me all over the place but this time it was a dined, Lunch Lady taught me how to cook." Pasuing to stuff a new handful of tasty fruity goodness, Danny spoke around the cereal in his mouth "Cookin' ish so much more cool when da food isn't trying to kill you"

Slapping Danny's arm as she rolled her "Don't eat with your mind full and tell me what got you so riled up" Sliding her laptop of her self she tucked her knees up before stretching them out over Danny, who was already going off on his story.

"Wait wait! You had Nightwing in you're restaurant and you didn't get me an autograph?" Same shot Danny a scowl, who at least had the decency to look sorry

"I was going to but they fucking dined and dashed Sam! Even when I was actively Phantom, I never, ever just left a bill!"

---

Dick knew that perhaps eating the food was a slightly bad idea, given the look B gave them when him and Tim pulled into the Cave.

He was standing there, arms crossed, thankfully cowl down, what made the sight infinitely less intimidating was Damian doing the same next to him, his head tilted to look down at them and perhaps standing on his tittpy toes a little bit.

Dick wanted to coo at the father son bonding, but remembered he had to act at least a little chastised at the moment "Yes I am sorry B, It was my decision to head in, there was no outward danger so we just took a chance."

Wincing at the gruff grunt he got from that Dick powered on, "I will write a more detailed report, but personally if anything wrong it's likely that the kid working there is Meta? I dont-"

"He can't be meta! He is very clearly a ghost Dick!" Tim interrupted already flipping through some notes he had made on the way back home, "its the only explanation...or he is a 5th dimensional Imp with a passion for cooking but I really hope not those guys suck to deal with..."

Dick nodded at that, but had to say some thing foe his own superfan imp "Nightmite is a chill dude helps sometimes with cases back in Bludhaven!"

Giving a sigh, Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose, "No mites, no metas, no ghost, go to Medbay I am running blood tests on what sweet hell you have ingested."

---

Bruce ran the test again, sure that it was wrong, praying that it was wrong.

TEST COMPLETE

TRACE LAZARUS WATERS DETECTED

Underneath was lists of chemical make ups of the samples Tim took and his sons blood, there were varying levels through out the food samples, some lighter but others were heavy on it.

What was stumping him was...it was nearly perfectly pure, the pits naturally over time get polluted, with the dirt and sediment that falls in, and with the various amounts of bodily parts and fluids that are dipped in it.

But the trace amounts Bruce was finding were a better quality than Ra's own personal pool, not the one he dips in to regain his youth that the LOA make a ritual out of, no the privet one in the Alps that was clear as glacial water.

It didn't make any sense to Bruce, who would be spreading Lazarus water around? Ra's would not simply share his secret pure stash...

Lost in thought, Bruce sat back glaring at the test results.

---

"And after I thought I was giving great service, they fucking left, no bill, no tip! I didn't even get to see Nightwings ass as he left! People say it's a godly experience! I was robbed!" Letting out a huff Danny shot Sam an incredulous look at her sudden burst of laughter. "Sa~am, this isn't funny! Never meet your heroes! I am taking this to Twitter! They shall know my fury!" His words only served to make Sam laugh even harder.

Stifling a grin Danny took out hos phone, a old busted thing that was more ducktape and prayers than actual technology, but dear go's did it still work.

<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween

[@.realwing @not-that-red-robin.real yall are toxic twinks came in to my workplace and fucking dined and dashed 0/10 Nightwing has a flat ass.]

Hitting send, Danny put his phone down, choosing to let the nights happenings go past his mind and just hang out with Sam before showering and finally going to bed.

---

Tim was hunched over his lap top, going frame by frame of his body cam footage, he *needed* to figure this out, it was like an itch in his brain that he would go through bone to get through.

His work payed off as he clicked forward another time, his feed went static before it showed a blurry blue blob in place of the diner! Proof! It was there!

Jumping at the sudden bang of his bedroom door being thrown open, Tim whirled to around to see Dicks distressed face, standing up, Tim prepared for the worst, something happened. Bruce was dead agian it had to be-

"TIMMY I AM A TWINK AM I??" Was Dicks wail as he flopped down on Tim's bed.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, Tim looked longingly at his laptop before closing it, "Dick, what the fuck."

Rolling around on the bed, Dick finally looked up at Tim "Littlewing sent me a tweet and...ugh just look!" Thrusting out his phone as he spoke

Pasuing at the mention of Jason, Tim looked down at the screen and froze

"Holy shit...we forgot to pay didn't we...fuck Jason is never going to let us live that down."

Tim still remembered the first time he witnessed one of Jason's famous "make Bruce spend more money" rants about tipping.

It was glorious.

Tim now realized he would be one of two that was likely going to have to face it next.

"UGH?? You focus on the money and not the other parts? Tim I was called a toxic twink with no ass! This is a declaration of war! I have never been so offended!" Dick sat up, eyes narrowd while Tim opened up the tweet on his own phone.

"The comments agree Dick, I am sorry, you now have a flat ass congrats and welcome to the club" Tim said dryly, trying to go to the posters page, since it was clearly Danny who posted it.

Only the app crashed when he tried to. And again when he tried to a second time, and his web browser crashed when he tried opening it there

Tim was baffled on what was happening while Dick lemented on his bed before deciding to hack it later.

<@not-that-red-robin.real

[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween super sorry about that send me venmo and I'll pay with tip]

<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween

[@not-that-red-robin.real Fuck that face me like a coward bitch bet you wont]

<@not-that-red-robin.real

[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween...bet]

---

Somewhere in a safe house in Crime Ally, Jason let out a little giggled as he scrolled through the comments on the funniest post he had found in a while, Jason was surely going to have to speak to Timberly and Dickiebird about paying their bills but right now?

He was kicking his feet watching Dick have a public meltdown as Nightwing.

Finally, he wouldn't be the only one who had to retake the Bat Media course.

How was he supposed to know doing peace signs next to a person he just shot wasn't allowed?

#batman #batfam #danny is a little shit #dc x dp #dpxdc #tim drake #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce is so done #bruce wayne #Dead Man's Diner #jason todd #but only a little #damian makes an appearance #he just wants to be like his dad #danny is just a little guy #danny phantom #ghost king danny #toxic twinks

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ckret2 · 7 months ago

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One of my favourite things about the book of Bill has to be how hard it has cemented that, for all the airs Bill likes to put on, he's actually awful at manipulating people. Like if you look at the just the show, on the surface his record isn't bad. 2 1/2 successful manipulations out of 3 shown on-screen is solid. ((That is until you examine it further and realize that the 2 successful ones were done to 12 year old children who 1. Weren't exactly in the best states of mind at the time due to severe sleep deprivation/a difficult emotional state and 2. he still had to trick via his power (the fake timer on the laptop/possessing blendin so Mabel didn't know it was him)) But now? Oh man! Ford wasn't just lucky, he joined a tradition dating back all the way to humanities beginnings! Bill has been trying to get people to do his bidding literally since people had gotten good enough at resource-gathering and tool-usage to be able to potentially build his portal! And he failed over and over and over again and he never learned shit! That would be bad enough but not only did he fail at manipulating several civilzations worth of people, they ALSO constantly thwarted him in ways beyond that! He got himself banished, trapped, and annoyed to hell and back and thats just the stuff he told us! Thats not even speaking of his latest and possibly greatest fumble, failing the convince us, the reader of the Book of Bill who is canonically a fan of Bill or at least Gravity Falls into striking a deal with him. In short, if I asked Bill to manipulate a child into eating ice cream with just his words I wouldn't trust him to get it done within my or the kids life time.

Except, Bill IS good at manipulating people. You JUST DESCRIBED several examples of him being good at manipulating people.

Identifying the most vulnerable targets, the "weakest link" most likely to cave and do what you want—like children (or elderly people with dementia, or immigrants who don't understand the language well)—is part of being good at manipulation.

Identifying and taking advantage of people in a compromised mental state when they're not thinking clearly and are more likely to do what you want is part of being good at manipulation. (He didn't try to persuade Mabel to destroy the laptop, BECAUSE HE KNEW DIPPER WAS MORE VULNERABLE. He didn't approach Dipper or Ford dressed as Blendin—BECAUSE HE KNEW MABEL WAS MORE VULNERABLE.)

Just straight up lying to people—about a situation (the timer), about a person (Blendin)—is a manipulation tactic.

Fabricating a totally artificial emergency and pressuring a target to ACT NOW to prevent disaster is a common con artist trick. (See: scammers who cold call strangers, say they're from the IRS and the stranger is behind on taxes, and demand they transfer a large amount of money from their bank RIGHT NOW or go to jail—WHICH ACTUALLY WORKS A LOT, especially because people CAN'T THINK AS CLEARLY when they're panicking.)

Disguising yourself as somebody trustworthy or somebody intimidating to trick a target into obeying you is also a common con artist trick.

Not to mention ALL the work we see into how he manipulates Ford: he makes note of Ford's social isolation and how Bill can use that to his advantage; he identifies the thing Ford wants most (respect & acknowledgment for his intellectual achievements) and weaves that into his manipulation; he uses both Ford's ego AND Ford's insecurity against him; he almost effortlessly turns Ford against the one friend who adores him, making Ford think his friend's kindest attempts to help are evidence of backstabbing; and even though ultimately it didn't work, you can't say that threatening to destroy Ford's life from inside his own body was a BAD manipulation tactic.

Plus the entire muse schtick. Fooling people into thinking you're doing something magical or supernatural is such a common manipulation tactic that there's a whole name for it: "mystical manipulation." Bill does this NON STOP with Ford, and with many of his other victims.

We see him successfully talk an entire tribe into helping him build a working redwood portal—and they only turned against him when the portal started petrifying people, unleashing monsters, and creating bottomless pits. He talked the Aztecs into sacrificing 9,000 people to build a portal that didn't even work. He talked not-Disney into making a cartoon about Bill that included UNLEASHING LIVE BEES IN THE THEATER. Who the hell would think that's a good idea!

And to top it all off, he formed multiple successful cults that were ride or die for him until the bitter end. That's like the crown jewel of being good at manipulating. Bill talked a whole town into joining his cult in under a month in spite of the fact that he kept calling them plasma bags and chugging formaldehyde. Based on the dates in the document about Silas Birchtree, people were marrying into Ciphertology at least five years after Bill's puppet disintegrated and he ditched them.

Bill was good at manipulating people!

Do you know what Bill WASN'T good at? Getting people to finish and open a portal.

Largely because portals are difficult to make, and because he can only get so far into the process before it becomes obvious that this thing will destroy the world and that's usually enough to override any other threats or promises he makes.

Yeah, he says some stupid things that should obviously give him away—like talking about setting off all the nukes. He's kinda pathetic and a bit of a dumbass sometimes. But, here's the thing about successful manipulators, con artists, and cult leaders: MOST of them are kinda pathetic dumbasses. Cult leaders are idiots. There's a cult leader who preached his followers should be on minimal vegetarian diets, had his chauffeur take him out to a big fancy steak dinner, then told his chauffeur he did that to test his faith—and the chauffeur was like well okay. Cult leaders are idiots, AND YET SUCCEED. When Bill says you can get anyone to hum along with your tune if you've got charisma? He's right—that's true in real life.

Manipulators get away with manipulation not because they tell such brilliant impeccable lies that the most clear-headed rational person in the world would believe them... but because they know to tell their lies to people who aren't clear-headed and rational, and because they know using cheap tricks and false identities and lies that the victim WANTS to be true works better than a flawless story, and because they know most people tend to give other people the benefit of the doubt that what they're saying is probably true.

So yeah, he's too cocky, he's a bit pathetic, he lost a lot, he loses at the end of the book... but that doesn't mean he's a bad manipulator. It means that being good at manipulating can only carry you so far, and Bill didn't have what it takes to carry him the rest of the way.

#anonymous #ask #bill cipher #the book of bill #the book of bill spoilers #gravity falls #meta

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boybandbaby · 1 month ago

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Take Me In Your Arms (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Non-BAU!Reader)

word count: 2302

warnings: alcohol consumption, unspecified age gap (reader is adult), BAU girls come off kinda mean but not really it’s the alcohol , talk about sex/not having sex, cheating (readers ex), angst, fluff, curse words

note: first time writing for cm/hotch, please be kind to me. idk i reread this twice and feel like i kinda ate but could also be because i was high anyways enjoy :)

You had just met Hotch’s team for the first time. The team had noticed a shift in Hotch’s demeanor and mood, one for the better. While he still struggled with juggling life as a dad and unit chief, he had met you and you had made everything easier.

After many weeks of the team theorizing and deep diving on Hotch’s dating life and finding that there was indeed a new mystery woman, he had given up and allowed them two questions each. Normally, he would shut down their antics and keep his life private but he wanted to show you off and talk about you. Now, 6 months into your relationship, the team had pushed him to introduce you all.

During dinner, you stayed at Aaron’s side as you got to know the team and as they interrogated you. Only after Hotch sternly yet playfully commanded they lay off, did you finally begin to eat. The team watched on as you and Aaron had quiet conversation, whispering small talk to each other, smiling wide and sharing your plates with each other.

After Rossi paid for the bill, Aaron helped you shrug your coat on and you all made your way a few blocks over for some drinks. The girls had pulled you from Aaron and allowed you in on their girl talk.

“It’s so great to see Hotch all loved up!” JJ smiles.

“I never knew he could be so… romantic.” Emily gushed as she sipped on something dark and warm.

“Our unit chief, with a hot younger woman. It’s amazing!” Penelope squeals.

“Speaking of hot, how is our unit chief?” Emily nudges you, wiggling her eyebrows.

“He’s wonderful. He’s so sweet and soft and gentlemanly.” You gush, cheeks warm and mouth flowing as you sip on your second drink of the night.

“No, she means how is he?” JJ clarifies, giggling. “Like in bed?”

All three girls giggle quietly as you take a glance at Aaron. His eyes meet yours as he listens to something Rossi says, a smile playing on his lips.

You quickly look down, biting your lip to hide your flustered smile.

“That good?” Emily gapes. “Is he as dominant in bed as he is at work?”

“Uh, we actually haven’t had sex yet.” You scan their faces as they as display varying expressions of confusion and surprise.

“Really? 6 months and you haven’t slept together?” JJ wonders aloud. You don’t think she means any malicious intent but it comes off as such.

“I figured you’d have jumped his bones by now. He is definitely a looker, I mean you should see the girls and even guys that flirt with him.” Emily jokes.

“I- We just haven’t gotten there yet.” You mumble, downing the rest of your drink and eyes searching the bar for a waiter. You definitely need another drink.

“Well, don’t keep the boss man waiting too long. He’s not getting any younger.” Penelope giggles behind her glass cup. “Keeping him happy means he’s nicer to us.”

The girls laugh before changing the subject to discuss recent dates Emily and Penelope have been on. You don’t join in much as you continue to sip on your recently arrived third drink.

Once Derek leaves with a girl from the bar, Spencer heads out having run out of social battery. Rossi and Hotch arrange rides for the girls before bidding each other a good night. You wave to Rossi and thank him for dinner.

Hotch pulls you into his side, an arm wrapped around your waist as you walk to the car. His brows furrow as you’re usually more talkative a few drinks in. He figures you’re tired from the events of the night as he stands at your open passenger door. He watches you fumble with the seatbelt and waits for your eyes to meet his. Instead of you assuring him you’re safely secured in and sealing it with a kiss, you tuck yourself into the seat, head facing the driver side.

He confusedly shuts your door and jogs to his side. You watch him through the foggy windshield and know he’s going to get whatever is eating at you out of you by the end of the night. You don’t want to make a big deal of this but you can’t help but wonder if he’s getting tired of you. Tired of waiting. He is a man after all. So was your ex and he cheated after he got “tired of waiting” because “a man has needs.”

It’s not that you don’t want to have sex with him, it’s just a complicated thing for you. Sex means something to you and you want to wait until you know the relationship is more than that. Of course, Aaron has never made you feel that he is with you for your body or just sexual pleasure.

Your thoughts run rampant as you make your way back to your apartment. Aaron keeps taking glances at you when he can. His hand would normally be on your thigh, close to your knee but he senses that you’re in your own world and may not want to be disturbed. He doesn’t want to disrupt you but he does want to know what’s going on. Did you not like his friends? Were they mean to you? No, they wouldn’t do that. Right?

Aaron had been worried about you meeting the team, not wanting them to scare you off somehow. But as the car stops and you take your belt off, opening the door, almost hopping out of his car without a kiss, he thinks they might have. He hasn’t even put the car in park when your feet hit the pavement.

His hand finds your left arm, gently gripping the fabric of your coat. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yes of course.” You quickly say, not turning to answer him. “I’m just burnt out. Call me when you get home, okay?”

He says your name, pleading for you to look at him. “Stay there, let me walk you up.”

“No, you must be tired too. I’ll text you when I’m inside.”

He says your name more sternly, his tone similar to when he talks to his agents. “Look at me.”

You slowly turn towards him, eyes cast on the space beside the passenger chair. Theres a very interesting pen cap and an unopened cough drop barely in view. Your eyes study the two items.

“Come back in the car, please. What’s going on?” He leans over the console, reaching for your hands as they fiddle on the seat.

“Your friends are lovely.” You let him pick your hands up from the seat.

“They think the same about you.” He smiles softly. “Did something happen?”

“Aaron, let’s not spoil a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast. We’re going to that cafe with the biscuits and gravy you like, right?” You kiss his knuckles. You’re deflecting and faking enthusiasm for his sake.

He turns the car off and you finally, finally look up at him. “Y/n, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing Aaron. Please don’t push me.” He can see the tears lining your eyes. “I’ve had too much to drink for you to poke and prod at me for an answer.”

“I’m not trying to push you but we both know I can tell when something has bothered you.” His brows furrow. “It’s my job.”

You let out a little laugh, not being able to stop yourself under the influence. “If I tell you, can you promise not to make a big deal of it when you see the girls?”

“I can’t do that until you tell me what is it.”

“Aaron.” You stomp your foot childishly.

“Y/n.” He raises a brow.

You both have a visual standoff before he caves and speaks. “Can I come up?”

You gulp, thoughts immediately assuming the worst but he’s Aaron Hotchner. The most respectful man you’ve honestly ever met.

“I just want to know what you’re thinking about. I can’t make things better if I don’t know what’s going on and I really like to be in the know.” He nearly sings. “Please…” Aaron isn’t a man who begs but with you he’s not opposed to bending the rules.

“Okay, yeah.” You also bend the rules for him. You step back and shut the door as you wait for him to get out. It’s not long before he meets you on the sidewalk. His hand finds yours as you enter your apartment building. He trails behind you as you eagerly reach the elevator.

He pulls you into him, arm around your shoulder and lips to your hairline. It’s his kindness that sets you off. You curl into him and the dam breaks. He’s taken aback as his arms circle your body.

It feels like hours before you both reach your floor. He guides you down the hallway and to your door. He uses his key, the one you gave him after he had a local case and you scared him by not answering his calls and texts. You had been asleep with your ringer off and he had been worried sick. Now, he can check on you or visit you whenever he pleases.

He urges you inside, taking your jacket off and hanging it on the rack before taking his off and doing the same. “Can you go sit for me? I’m going to get you some water.”

You nod and sloppily wipe your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“None of that.” He shakes his head and pulls you into him. His hand wraps around your head as his lips meet your forehead. “Now go. I’ll be there in a minute.”

You nod again as he heads to the kitchen. He’s only been here a handful times since you started dating, you preferring to spend time at his. He also believes it’s because you feel insecure about your space compared to his but you’ve both never addressed this. He loves coming to yours, seeing bits and pieces of you around the space. He’s still getting used to where things are and where they go.

It takes him only two tries before he finds the cabinet with your cups. He fills it up, grabs some paper towels and finds you curled on the couch with a blanket across your lap.

“Here, honey.” He hands it to you before loosening his tie. “Take however much time you need. When you’re ready, I’m here to listen.”

He pulls the tie from his neck and tosses it on the coffee table with the napkins. “Be right back.”

He leaves before you can ask where he’s going. You watch him descend into your bedroom and come out with a pair of pajama pants and two shirts. He holds them up, one long sleeve and one short. You point to the long sleeve and he places it with the pants beside you.

“You get changed, I’m going to wash up in the bathroom.”

“You’re too good to me.” You finally speak up, hiccups escaping between words.

“Not true. You deserve more.” He begins to unbutton his dress shirt.

“You do.” You emphasize. “You deserve someone who will give you everything you want. Need.”

“I have you. And you give me all that and more.” He bends down, hoping you don’t see him wince as his knees hit the carpeted floor. “You’re the best thing, other than Jack, that’s happened to me.”

“You’re not tired of me yet?”

“Tired? Of you?” He runs his hands along your calves. Fixes the blanket on your lap to give himself better access. “Never.”

“I’m sorry.” You set the drink down, leaning closer to him. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

He tilts his head. Wait? He thinks. He’s not sure what you mean.

“Don’t make me say it Mister Profiler.” You roll your eyes. “I know you’re wondering why we haven’t fucked.”

His eyes widen, “That’s very brash, y/n.”

“Fuck. Have sex. Sleep together. Whatever you call it, however you phrase it. It’s all the same.” You sass.

“Hey, what’s with the tone?” He meets your eyes. “Is this what this is about? What did the girls say to upset you?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not about what they said really. It’s about you getting tired of me and finding someone els-“

“Enough.” His voice echos in the quiet apartment. His voice makes both of you jump. “Enough.” He says more quietly, his tone softening. “Is that the kind of man you think I am?”

You shake your head immediately because you know him. He’s not like any man you’ve even been with but the insecurities rise and take over any rational thoughts.

“Y/n, I love you.” He gushes. “Sex?” He scoffs, “it’s not what’s important to me. What’s in here,” he points to your chest. “That’s what’s important to me. You are important to me. I’m obsessed with you.”

Your cheeks streak with tears. “Aaron…”

“I’m serious.” He twists awkwardly to grab the tissue he left minutes ago. He folds it in half and dips it into the glass of water.

“You always are.” You laugh, bubbly with sadness.

“I don’t care if we never have sex. If we do, great! If we don’t, great! I just want you.” He pinches your chin to get you to look at him, wiping your cheeks with the wet towel. “Do you understand me?”

You nod and when he doesn’t seem satisfied, “yes. I understand.”

“Good, I’m glad.” His knees ache as he finally stands, crumpling the dirty napkin and tossing it onto the table. “I love you, y/n.” He cups your face, lips centimeters from yours.

“I love you, Aaron. More than you’ll ever know.” You lean forward and meet his lips. He really is too good to you.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fic

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mistriavalley · 5 months ago

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A night to remember (Shane x reader)

TW: 18+ MDNI, smut, farmer has a vagina, fingering, farmer receives oral, being caught in the act, mentions of alcohol, Shane and farmer consume alcohol, established relationship, English is not my first language

Masterlist

It was a packed Friday night at the saloon and the buzzing of the crowd made it hard to have a proper conversation. Shane and you shared a small table in the far corner and screamed in each other's ears so you could understand one another.

His beer glass was empty, while your own drink was still half full. It was too damn hot in here and the alcohol didn't make it any more bearable. From the moment you had sat down, you had been waving a thin napkin to create some cool air.

Shane had casually put his arm around you on the backrest and leaned over until his lips touched your ear.

"Is it okay if I order another beer before we leave?"

You just nodded, too exhausted to shout back an answer. It would take you a while to finish your glass anyway.

As your boyfriend got up and made his way to the bar, you exhaled softly. Normally you liked having Shane so close to your side, especially since he often had trouble showing affection in public, but his body heat only made the already high temperature in the saloon worse.

After a few minutes he returned again, his full glass of beer in his hand. His thigh pressed against yours as he sat back down and he put his arm around you once more. No matter how much you were sweating at the moment, you didn't want to distance yourself from him.

You both stayed silent for a long time as you worked on your drinks until Shane leaned closer to your ear. His large hand found its way to your thigh and he traced his thumb over your leg in a circular motion.

His every touch lit a fire in your lower stomach and you practically melted away. But now that you were in public, you did your best to hide your arousal.

"Do you want to go to my place tonight? Jas is sleeping over at Vincent's and it looks like Marnie will be here for a while. We'd have the place for ourselves for once.", he suggested and your eyes scanned the room.

Yes, there on the complete other side was Marnie with a drink in her hand. By all appearances, she was deep in conversation with Lewis and it looked as if she was completely oblivious to what was going on around her.

After a moment's thought, you gave Shane a nod and left the saloon while he took care of the bill. The cool, crisp night air hit you like a slap in the face. A very pleasant slap, if you could say so yourself, considering you felt like you had just escaped from a sauna.

As you brushed the hair away from the back of your neck to feel a little more of the cold breeze, your boyfriend appeared by your side. With his hand placed on your lower back, you walked towards the ranch.

But with every second that passed, you grew more impatient. Your head was filled with images of Shane on top of you, behind you and inside you. Preferably in every possible position, actually.

While he fumbled frustratedly with his key chain to find the right one for the front door, your hands found a way to his face. You gently turned his head in your direction to place your lips on his.

Your kiss quickly escalated, however, as he groaned in despair and pressed you against the door with his body. With one of his hands free, he was still searching for the right key.

"Shit, man. Where is that fucking thing?", he muttered in annoyance and you fished your own key out of your jacket pocket. Shane had given it to you a few months ago as a sign that he was serious about you and your relationship.

His eyes widened at the sight of the object and he pressed a grateful kiss to your mouth.

"Yoba, that's so sexy of you.", he blurted out and you laughed.

As soon as you were through the door, he basicslly ripped your clothes off. His lips left yours only to assault your neck to bite, lick and suck on it. Like a madman, his hands roamed all over your body, squeezing every soft spot until they were on your butt and he lifted you up.

You squealed in surprise as he carried you into the kitchen. The only light source was the small lamp over the sink, drowning the room in a warm, orange color.

With a single sweeping motion of his arm, he carelessly threw everything off the dining table and sat you down on the surface.

"Wait, what? Here?", you asked with uncertainty in your voice, and he placed his hips between your legs.

His hard cock was pressing against the large wet spot on your underwear and you felt all hot and dizzy. Your whole body was crying out for this man.

"If I had it my way, I'd fuck you on every piece of furniture in this house.", he whispered in your ear. His warm breath tickled your skin and you automatically arched your back, pressing your chest against him.

His fingers wandered down your stomach and you let out a soft moan.

"Fuck, you're so wet.", he exclaimed in a low voice.

As he played with your clit, you threw your head back and closed your eyes. A contented sigh escaped your lips as he pushed the soft fabric of your underwear to the side to get better access.

Shane dropped down on his knees and buried his head between your legs while his tongue eagerly licked your pussy. He drank you up like a thirsty man who'd been lost in the desert for weeks.

An all too familiar knot formed in your lower stomach and you knew you were about to come at any moment. Your hands grabbed desperately at his hair and you tugged it, earning a needy groan from him.

The closer you got to your climax, the more desperately you moved your hips against his mouth.

"I'm almost there...oh my Yoba...yes!"

But before you were granted that oh so sweet release, the front door opened with a squeak. Shane and you froze up in this position and you exchanged startled glances.

Giggles, moans and wet kissing noises filtered through the hallway to the kitchen and Shane's entire face contorted in disgust as he recognized his aunt's voice.

"Oh, Lewis...", she moaned passionately and the kitchen light got turned on.

Shane quickly jumped up and threw his joja jacket that had ended up on the floor earlier over your naked torso. With his own stature, he covered the rest of your exposed body.

"Shane!", Marnie cried out in horror and quickly closed the open buttons of her blouse. You glanced over Shane's shoulder to look at the pair that had walked in on you two.

Embarrassed, you waved at them.

"Hello, Mayor Lewis. Hello, Marnie."

All the color had drained from their faces and Shane looked like he wanted to throw up right then and there.

"Neither of you will say a word about this, do you understand?", Lewis demanded and Shane and you nodded your head hastily.

You were pretty sure that no one would ever mutter a word about what just happened, let alone think about it.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley smut #sdv smut #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv shane #sdv shane x reader #stardew valley shane x reader #stardew valley shane

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heich0e · 2 years ago

Text

“Didn’t expect to see you out here.”

Your head pops up as the unexpected voice makes itself known, twisting your face towards the sound only to see a figure standing at the end of the alley. He’s silhouetted where he stands—a shape more than a person. You can tell he’s tall, broad, and has a knot of hair tied up loosely at his crown.

Geto Suguru steps into the light where you can see him better, though it makes his sudden appearance no less surprising.

“Did you drink too much?” he asks, treading a few steps closer as he eyes you worriedly. You pull yourself up from where you’d been crouching on the ground.

“No, no. Just getting some air,” you reply with a stiff smile, dipping in a bow and quickly adjusting your pencil skirt once you’re back upright.

He has his tie loosened over his shirt with the top button undone, and his suit jacket is nowhere to be seen. He considers you for a moment, and his attention makes you want to fidget but you fight the urge.

You watch as he pulls packet of cigarettes from the breast pocket of his shirt and offers it out to you. “Do you smoke?”

“No, thank you,” you say with a quick shake of your head, smoothing your hands along the front of your skirt and then moving to step past him back towards the entrance of the restaurant. “I should go.”

He angles his body in your way before you can.

“No need to leave on my account,” he says, peering down at you. His face is partially in shadow because of how he’s standing, angled between you and the mouth of the alleyway that leads back to the busy street, caught in a small dark patch between the streetlights and the light affixed to the grungy brick wall. He tips his face up and the light touches his features once more, catching in his brown eyes as he waits in anticipation of your response.

“I should get back inside.” It’s strangely difficult to meet his gaze, so instead you look past him towards the street as an unwelcome heat surges up your throat to flood your face. A car passes quickly by the alley, and you watch as the headlights come and go in a flash.

“Why?” the man before you asks, placing the cigarette he’d fished out of the pack to his lips. He uses his teeth to keep it there while he fumbles through his pockets for a lighter. “You’re clearly having a terrible time in there.”

Your eyes snap up to meet his in shock.

“No I’m not,” your reply is notably indignant, even though his accusation is valid.

How would he know anyway?

“The smiley, nice-girl bit’s gotta be getting old, isn’t it? Pouring everyones drinks. Cleaning up everyones messes.” He laughs, though it’s only to himself, before clicking his lighter to life and holding it to the tip of his cigarette until it catches. The cherry burns red and bright on an inhale, and smoke slips from his lips as he adds, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’m not your boss.”

“I’m not lying,” you insist, but your performance isn’t particularly convincing.

Truthfully, the very last thing you wanted to do after a ten-hour work day—capping off a fifty-hour work week—was come out drinking with your colleagues. You’ve never really liked these kinds of gatherings, even if the company is the one footing the bill. They always get a bit too rowdy for your liking. Always drag on a bit too long. And you know that you’ll inevitably be the one stuck forcing your plastered boss into a taxi in the wee hours of the morning, while the rest of your equally-sloshed coworkers find their own ways home.

But the department chair, the very same one you’re sure will be singing karaoke with his tie around his forehead in only a few short hours, had been adamant that everyone in marketing attend the gathering since the sales section was joining in too.

Hence the sales employee standing toe-to-toe with you, blocking your path.

You know Geto Suguru, but only indirectly. The sales and marketing departments are separated by a single floor in your company’s office building, and often work on projects together. Geto is a section lead in sales, with a long, illustrious history behind him before he worked his way up to that role. He’s made a lot of money for the company, and a lot of friends along the way—what with his easy charm, silver tongue, and undeniable good looks. His reputation precedes him—in both good ways and bad.

The fact that he’s here talking to you—a fresh-faced, relatively new-to-role nobody in comparison to his lengthy history with the business—is what you have a hard time wrapping your head around.

“Sure, sure.” Geto waves his hand dismissively, ash fluttering off in tiny specks from the end of his lit cigarette. “I’m sure you just love making all those copies, remembering coffee orders, and running that section lead of yours’s errands too. Oh, and don’t forget when he takes credit for your ideas.”

Your stomach drops.

He keeps going.

“This upcoming brand collaboration is exciting,”—he takes a puff of his cigarette, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you—“too bad no one knows it was you who came up with it, huh?”

Your fists clench tightly at your sides, your lips pressing together in a thin line.

Geto blows the last of the smoke in his lungs from the corner of his pursed lips, away from you.

“That’s the first honest expression I’ve seen on your face all night,” he says with a sly smile tugging at his lips.

Your hands are shaking.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask him weakly.

He tilts his head to the side, like your question confounds him.

“I’m not doing anything,” he says, and he sounds like he genuinely means it. “Have I said anything that isn’t true?”

You bite your lip, staring down at your pretty, professional pumps as you stand on the craggy pavement of the alley.

“You’re allowed to be angry, but don’t direct it at me for pointing out the people who keep screwing you over,” Geto says, and the way his voice sounds a bit nearer and the smell of his cigarette gets stronger tells you that he’s dipped down closer to you even though you don’t watch him do it. “No one’s gonna hand anything to you if you don’t fight for it.”

You glance up at him, your expression and your tone equally flat. “And what if I’m not a fighter?”

“Oh, I don’t believe that,” he says, chuckling a bit as he backs away from you.

You watch him as he watches you—contemplates you, like he’s sizing you up. He drops cigarette suddenly to the ground, still only half-burned, and crushes it with the toe of his shoe. You hold your breath as he takes another step towards you.

He leans forward.

“Hit me.”

“Pardon me?” The bewildered question rushes out of you all in one gasping breath, and you take a loping step back in shock.

“Come on, just one,” the man goads you further, rapping against his jaw with the knuckle of his index finger as a smile twists his lips up at the corners.

“You’re drunk,” you spit out incredulously, shaking your head and quickly moving to step past him.

“I’m not.” He sidles smoothly into your path once more before you get the chance to flee, like he’s half-a-step ahead of you at all times.

It’s infuriating.

“Alright, then you’re just insane,” you offer instead.

You knew the sales department had a reputation for being a bit wild, but this is beyond all your expectations. This is nothing like the charming, easy going Geto that you’ve heard all your female colleague gossiping about in the break room.

His smile falls, and he crosses his arms over his chest. You try not to pay too much attention to the way his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“I’m still your senior, y’know,” he says, and his voice is a little bit colder now. More admonishing.

You’re very acutely aware of that fact without him saying it.

You huff out a frustrated little breath through your nose, crossing your own arms over your chest in a mirror of his stance.

“I’m not hitting you.”

Geto’s brow quirks curiously.

“Why not?”

You can’t believe you’re having this conversation.

“Because that’s assault,” you counter his question shortly.

“It’s only assault if I press charges—which I won’t.” You know he’s telling the truth but it doesn’t make it any more convincing. He tilts his head to the side again, and a silky strand of his dark hair slips into his eyes. “Haven’t you ever hit anyone before? It’s cathartic.”

Your lips part in an expression of astonishment. “Of course I haven’t.”

The man in front of you looks mildly surprised at your answer.

“Do I look like someone who goes around fighting people?” you ask him incredulously.

“You look like you’ve got some repressed rage in you,” he says with a smirk, and the expression only worsens when he sees the way you react to it.

He taps his cheek again before tucking both his hands behind his back and leaning in close to you, like a man offering himself up to the executioner’s block. He shuts his eyes.

“C’mon, just a little one.”

“I won’t.”

“You should.”

“I won’t.”

“How come?”

You take his face in your hands suddenly, tilting it up to meet your gaze.

“Geto-san,” you say quietly, your tone bordering on desperate. “I’m not going to hit you, so please stop asking.”

He opens his eyes slowly, his dark lashes fluttering as he blinks up at you. After a moment he smiles, and his eyes curve into narrow crescents as he leans subtly into your touch.

It’s quiet in the alley, but your heartbeat is quick underneath your skin.

“Can you blame a guy for trying?” he asks you coyly.

You’re still cupping his cheeks in your hands.

They’re warm.

“You really are crazy,” you reply softly to his question, though it’s not much of a reply at all.

He hums, turning his face so his nose drags across your wrist. His lips brush against your palm as he speaks once more. “I’ve been called worse.”

You don’t doubt he’s telling the truth.

Slowly, the dark haired man picks himself up to his usual height. He’s closer to you now than he’s ever been—and thanks to the little cat and mouse game that the two of you have been playing, you’re very nearly pressed against the alley wall. You can’t even see the street anymore beyond the expanse of his wide shoulders.

Everywhere you look, you only see him.

The realization sits hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach.

“I know you’re a good girl, but what are we gonna do about all that stuff you’ve got pent up in there?” Geto lifts his hand and presses a featherlight touch to your sternum over your diaphragm, his fingertips trailing delicately against the smooth plane where the arch of your ribs ends. Your breath hitches painfully as you stare up at him, a sticky knot at the back of your throat preventing you from forming any response—not that you can think of anything to say.

Geto smiles down at you, his expression soft.

You see the faintest flash of sharp teeth behind his pink lips.

“Don’t you want me to help you let it out?”

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing #f!reader

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writingwisterias · 2 months ago

Note

Hello 💜 i love ALL WHAT YOU DOOO AKD WRITE OMGGGG i love you bro

Btw, you can ignore this, i wanted to ask, how would diff eras of Leon be like at the start of the relationship? Like, who would initiate what- touch, 😈 freaky time, talking, planning- dates, anything?

Hi Anon!

Omg omg you'll make me blush ty ty 😘🥹! I would love to do this for you!!! Im trying to catch up with these please be gentle with me I'm sorry 🙏🏼

Warnings: NSFW, Teasing, Fluff,

GN!Reader

RE2:

I wouldn't say he's the biggest flirt. Like he fumbles around a lot when talking to you, especially on the first date!

But he does do some cheesy jokes that makes you laugh

To start with his very respectful with his touches, just simple hand holding or hand on the small of your back

The first date he planned is just a simple diner trip, like he's seen it in the movies, other people do it. He's just going off from his basic knowledge that he has about dating (I like to think you are his first partner)

However, I don't think he would initiate anything intimate early on in the relationship but when he does he's not shy..

Like this is when you really see how Leon is like he's all over you

Theres not an inch of your body that this man hasn't touched with his lips yet

Actually fucking him I would say is where the honey moon phase starts and the awkward first dating ends

RE4R:

I don't think he would be awkward in how he speaks, like he's very flirty and bold

So many cheesy lines of course

It's his touches he's nervous with.

Only because it's been a long time, and I'm talking like international romantic ones

Like hugs, cuddles, kisses

The first date he planned is probably just a coffee date, something simple but only because he planned to take you for a longer one after he just wanted to ease back into the idea of dating

He would feel bad and sort of force himself mentally to do it more, even though you have told him to progress on his own time

Sex would be a while into the relationship as well, like he's not nervous about it

It just requires more thought to it than before like he has to muster up the courage to admit you actually like him enough to do this

When it starts, that it, he's touch starved there's no stopping him

Infinite Darkness:

I think his like cocky attitude is a front.

Almost like a mask

So if he actually got a first date with you he's shy AF because what do you mean he actually managed to get you on a date with him??

He planned the first date and did something simple like bowing in hopes you can both come out of your shells a bit more with an activity to focus on.

He's just baffled but holds his front pretty well during the date but he is all over the place with his topics

It's cute

He's holding your hand confidently too, kissing you any chance he gets..lots of hugs

In terms of sex he's all for it like pretty quickly, he has no shame in his performance so hes quick to initiate it

Damnation:

Cocky but only because he's got the alcohol in his system to be cocky

He's all over you, touches and kisses. He has no shame

Sex is probably after 1-2 dates, only because he's a busy man he wants to make sure you are satisfied and coming back to him instead of finding someone else

His first date is probably a little bit more classy, like he's not dressing up per say but it's not some random bar having a few drinks

Probably a mid range restaurant

Won't let you pay but only because half of the bill is his drinks

RE6:

Probably wants something more low-key for a first date so I imagine he's inviting you round his

Like hes happy with just a movie night and some cuddling

That being said because he's in the comfort of his own home he's got wandering hands

Sex is probably on the first date but he would wake up early to make you some pancakes

Or attempt to make some pancakes

You fit together in a domestic relationship quite quickly and he's pretty happy with that

You are a reason for him to keep going

Vendetta:

So you actually meet him in a bar, you don't really have a first date you just see a sad and lonely man and sit next to him

His walls are up at first like why TF would you want to talk to him?

Then as he gets to know you they start to crumble

Offers to walk you home

A huge chatter box when he does, his also pulling you into his side because it's "cold" of course

Very gentle with you compared to anyone else in his life

He kisses you that same night, like you just feel right to him so he goes all or nothing

His kiss is sloppy and messy but you excuse it as the drink

He is somewhat sober the first time you have sex but that happens a while after you first meet him

Only because you want him to actually be sober enough to remember it, refusing to end up as some drunken mistake to him

Death Island:

Old fashioned in his dating style

He's treating you! Big restaurant, fancy drinks and he's listening to every single word you have to say

But that's only one night, you actually fall for him during the next few days as he seems more laid back and more himself

Offers you rides on his bike and takes you to cute view points to sit and chat together

He's all over you as well, hugs, kisses all of it

Sex happens slowly but once he's done there's no stopping him

Like a teenage boy I tell you, you can just bend over to get something and he's rock hard

#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x you #~mads rambles #leon kennedy imagine #~mads~mail💌

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gremlinmodetweeker · 6 months ago

Text

To Market to Market, to Buy A Fat Hog

Okay so this one made me really sad guys. Yes this is more alpha König and omega reader. This one actually made me feel really bad for König. I promise you it will get better! I do!!! I keep saying it because I really do mean it!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Anyways, in this part, König sends you out to market to pick up groceries, and you find a cute alpha who actually seems to like you. Meanwhile, König struggles with appearances and his feelings.

Anyways!

TW: near infidelity (does not actually happen but comes close to a kiss), König feeling very sad and conflicted

Wordcount: 3.8K words (about 9 pages in google docs guys this is big)

Art from this post

Story Below the Cut

To Market to Market, to Buy A Fat Hog

As it turned out, cooking for König was no joke. He was an alpha, so it wasn't a surprise to figure out that the man liked to eat, but what you didn’t realize was that he was picky about it to boot. He was so picky that you’d had to resort to finding your own transportation to go down to the grocery store to find more ingredients.

“What are you you doing?”

You turned around to see König standing behind you in the front hall, posed somewhere between the stairs and the landing.

“We’re out of tomatoes,” you replied, “I need to go to the store to get some more.”

“Why do you need tomatoes?” König asked.

“To make the ratatouille that you wanted so badly,” you explained as you sat on a wooden bench to put on your shoes, “you asked for it last night, remember?”

König nodded, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I forgot about that.”

“Didn’t you say you were looking forward to this?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve been looking forward to the whole week,” König replied with a smirk.

“That’s just great,” you sighed as you brought yourself up to your feet.

“You know it’s going to rain out there, right?” König asked curiously.

“Oh,” you reached down to pick up an umbrella, "thanks.”

König watched as you fumbled with your keys before he asked, “So you’re going out like that?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, “Is there something wrong with how I look?”

König shook his head, “No, no not like that. I’m just wondering if… Well, maybe you should wear something a bit nicer?”

“Why?’ you scoffed, “are you worried about your ‘image’ again?”

König said nothing, letting you fill in the blanks for him.

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes before brushing by him to head back upstairs, “then tell me what to wear.”

“Something nicer,” was all the clarification König gave you before heading off to the backyard. To do what, you didn’t particularly care enough to think about.

Once you were upstairs in your bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Maybe König did have a point; you looked like you’d been hit with a truck that morning. The bags under your eyes were deep and heavy, and your hoodie had stains all over the bottom and along the cuffs of your sleeves. If you sat on a corner and held out a cup, you’d probably be able to make up your entire grocery bill in an afternoon. What a miserable state you were in!

You decided that what you were looking at was not up to snuff, not for you at least. Evidently not for König either, but that wasn’t the point.

With a few brushes of powder and a nice new set of clothes, you were able to face your reflection with a smile. It was a hollow, fragile smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. You tried to focus on the victories, no matter how pyrrhic they felt.

You sashayed back down the stairs with a self confident grin only to be faced with the man who sent you upstairs in the first place.

His icy eyes were wide, glancing around frantically before settling them on his feet.

“Is this good enough?” you asked.

He didn’t say a word, just nodded quickly. You figured that was about as much flattery as you’d get out of him on a good day.

“What store are you going to?” König asked in a quiet voice.

“To the big one,” you replied, “you know, the one down the road.”

König set his lips into a line, then asked, “Why don’t you go to the farmer’s market? It's a Saturday. They should be open today.”

“How would I get there?” you asked.

König dug his hands through his wallet and pulled out a blue and green card, “This is for the bus. You know how to use the GPS on your phone, right?”

You nodded.

“Just look up farmer’s market on the app,” König offered, “it should get you there quickly.”

“But what about money?” you asked.

“Ach,” König hissed as he pulled his wallet from his jeans again, “take this. It should be enough for the groceries and then some for yourself.”

“Are you suggesting I get myself something nice?” you smirked dryly at the irony.

König paused to tilt his head so he could look you in the eyes, “Maybe. You can keep the bus card, too. You’ll need it more than me.”

“Is there enough money on it?” you asked.

“It’s synced to my card,” König replied, “it’ll charge me automatically. Don’t worry about loading it.”

You tucked the card into your own wallet, thinner than his by a landslide. With all your bearings checked, you patted down your dress and gave König an award-winning smile.

“I’ll be back soon,” you grinned.

“Text me when you’re coming home,” König told you as he turned to retreat into the home, “and when you get there. And when-" he clenched his jaw, "just keep me updated, bitte.”

You didn’t say a word, instead stepping through the door and slipping outside. You pulled out your phone and punched in König’s suggestion to find what you expected to be the farmer’s market. You didn’t stop to see if König was waving you goodbye from the window, instead marching to the nearest bus stop to get started on your route.

The bus wasn’t particularly crowded, but there was a beta male in rut that had evidently forgotten to take his pills this morning, making the entire bus reek of oceanic vinegar. He’d obviously tried to hide it with extra scent blocker deodorant, but he was failing miserably. Most of the others on the bus shot the poor fellow cruel looks, to which he withered in on himself. It wouldn’t surprise you if he’d been sent home from work to get himself some pills to stop stinking up the office.

Thankfully, aside from the beta male, there weren’t any great upsets along the way. The walk to the market was thankfully brief, though a drizzle started and you had to put up your polka dotted umbrella as a shield against the weathers. You’d spent too much time perfecting your lipstick to have it smudged by a few drops of rain. Just once, you wanted to feel like you looked nice. It wasn’t like König did anything to help you in that regard. Rather, you felt that when you were around him, you were about as attractive as plain cardboard or white wallpaper. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even let himself look at you, which though while a regular occurrence, still smacked of obstinate rudeness that cut you like a thousand papercuts. Each nervous glance away was another slit upon you. At this point, you were surprised your heart was still beating in its place in your chest.

You skulked through the market in a search for ingredients. You didn’t really need to go out today, but you wanted a break from the silence of the home. After spending so much time in the silence, the hustle and bustle of the market jostled you to and fro with the crowds. You were twirled around this way and that before you were able to stumble you way towards a decent-enough looking stall filled to the brim with bright red fruits.

Only once you were too close to be ignored did you realize that the stall was advertising cider and vinegar, made fresh from the very same apples that had drawn you in.

“Hey!” a tall alpha stepped up to greet you, “see anything you like?”

You, you wanted to say but you held your tongue. Instead, you looked over the merchandise before picking up a small bottle.

“Um, how much is this?” you asked as you passed over the cider.

“Oh this is on sale, actually,” the alpha laughed, exposing his bright white canines, “it’s just for today though.”

“Only today?” you parroted.

“Only for today,” the alpha agreed before screwing you with a strange look, “say, where’s your collar?”

You blinked as you reached up to your neck.

“Oh, I must have forgotten it at home,” you admitted shyly, ashamed you’d forgotten such an important piece of protection for yourself.

“How long have you been here?” the alpha frowned.

“Not long,” you said as you fingered the empty air around your neck, “I must’ve forgotten it when I went out this morning.”

“Well it’s not safe for an unclaimed omega to go around without a collar,” the alpha hummed before holding up a hand, “just wait right there. I’m gonna go talk to someone.”

You nodded and let the man hurry off to talk to an alpha woman who worked the other side of the stall. She glanced over at you with a quick smile before looking back at her coworker, letting him return back to you with a comment accompanied by a nod of her head.

The alpha stepped back from behind the stall to stand by your side, awkwardly squeezing into the space beside you as carefully as he could to avoid actively pressing in on your inner bubble.

“So, I talked to my boss, and she said it’s okay if I take a break and help you around the market,” the alpha smiled timidly, “it’s just… I’m worried somebody might hurt you.”

“Wait, really?” you blinked owlishly as you looked up at the man.

“I mean it’s not safe to be without a collar,” the alpha insisted, “so it only makes sense that I watch over you. I, uh, I have a lot of omega friends and they tell me it’s nice to have someone around to keep them safe.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” you felt a bit fuzzy as you smiled at the messy-haired brunette, “but you don’t have to if it’s too much-”

“It’s nothing,” the alpha interjected before wincing, “sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt it’s just, you know, I’d hate to let you go and have you get hurt or-”

“No I get it,” you helped the poor man out, “I just didn’t want to pull you away from work and…”

You both smiled fondly at each other. Maybe it was something about not being used to an alpha’s affection, but the man’s brown eyes were warm like honey and tea as he took you in. You were suddenly grateful for König insisting that you wear something nice. Wait, König!

“Oh, um, I’m sorry but I should probably just call my alpha to come get me,” you cringed at the thought of having to phone up that miserable lout to drag you back into that horrible home.

“Wait, your alpha let you out like this?” the alpha frowned, almost looking crestfallen, “that’s weird.”

“Well,” you sighed, “we’re in a weird relationship. I’m supposed to be his mate or whatever, but I just… He’s not really in it.”

“Oh you got matched?” the alpha perked up, “I had a few friends in the matching program.”

“You did?” you asked.

“Yeah! They’re all like, ‘Shaun you really gotta sign up for this matching program’ way back in high school, but now they’re all sad and miserable with their matches,” the man laughed before catching himself, “my name’s Shaun, by the way! Sorry about that, I forgot to introduce myself. What’s your name?”

You gave your name with a laugh, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself too!”

“Makes the two of us, I guess,” Shaun chuckled, turning with you to start walking the aisles with you, “so, what’re you here for anyways?”

“Just a few veggies and stuff,” you replied, “my alpha wants me to cook for him.”

“So he let you out in public but expects you to be a perfect little omega for him?” Shaun scoffed, “sounds like a great guy for sure.”

“Well,” you bit your lip, “it’s more complicated than that. See, I really wanted him to just, you know, be my partner but he wasn’t too keen on it. So I was thinking that maybe if I made him jealous, maybe he’d be more interested or something?”

“And how did that go?” Shaun chuckled.

“Well, he called me out pretty quickly and then told me I could make it up to him by cooking for him,” you explained, “so I guess I really got myself in this mess.”

“But you only did it because he wasn’t paying any attention to you?” Shaun asked, helping you navigate around a tight bend by using his body as a battering ram through the crowd.

You blushed furiously, “I mean, is it too much to ask? I really thought the matching system would work, but… Well…”

“Usually it works,” Shaun offered, “but not always,” he helped you step out of the way of a passing baby stroller, “some people say it takes a couple of years to work, but I just think it’s a bit overrated.”

“So you never signed up?” you asked.

“Nah, it’s not like people would really want me, anyways,” Shaun admitted, “I’m an alpha O with a degree in agriculture working at a small farm. I don’t make much, and not many people are into alpha Os.”

“Really?” you asked curiously, “why not?”

“Not as big as alpha Bs and not as stable as beta As,” Shaun explained, “but whatever. I bet you get it as an omega.”

“Omega O, actually,” you laughed when Shaun winced, “yeah, it’s not always fun. But hey, I get by.”

“So I’m guessing you’re matched with an alpha A?” Shaun cringed.

“Yeah! I’m told the matching system puts alpha As and omega Os together for some reason?” you shook your head, “it’s crazy to me.”

“Absolutely,” Shaun agreed, “oh look! You said you needed veggies, right? My friend runs that stand over there!”

Shaun pointed somewhere but the crowd obscured your vision. So thus you pushed forth behind him before coming into a small clearing.

“Shaun! Long time no see!” a tall beta woman leaned on the wood stand.

“Laura, we literally just talked two hours ago,” Shaun rolled his eyes before standing to the side, “I’m just here because this little omega over here forgot her collar back home. But yeah, you wanted to get some things, right?”

After a bit of social chit-chat, you left with a couple of baskets brimming with fresh produce. Included i the bundle was a jar of fresh tomato paste and a bottle of olive oil, courtesy of the Italian pasta maker in the stand beside you. The beta man running the store had been more than glad to help you out when he overheard you explaining your situation with König, though he had tried to make you take a particularly spicy sausage to try and ‘get back at the swine’ but you’d had to turn him down.

After touring the market once more, you sat down at a bench with a paper bag of cinnamon sugar doughnuts between you and Shaun.

“Thanks for helping me around here,” you said before taking another bite of the fresh-baked treat, “wow these are so good. You were totally right about these.”

“Those old ladies know what they’re talking about,” Shaun agreed as he took another doughnut, “but yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m just happy you’re safe and all that.”

“It’s nice to meet an alpha that’s not a major dickface,” you grinned, wiping the sticky sugar away from your fingers.

“Most alphas are pretty chill actually,” Shaun wrapped his sticky fingers together, “I mean, we have to take those emotional regulation classes all the way from grade one until we graduate. Most of us learn how to chill out a bit.”

“So that’s why you’re so nice?” you asked cheekily.

“I mean, I like to think I’ve always been pretty cool,” Shaun tossed you a sly grin, “just don’t tell Laura that. She thinks I’m weird.”

“And why’s that?” you kicked your feet beneath you on the bench.

“Oh, I dunno, because I like comics? Or maybe it’s ‘cause I can quote entire movies in one go,” Shaun laughed, “but I think that just makes me cooler.”

“You might be on to something,” you agreed before you heard a small ping! came from your pocket, “one sec I just need to check something,” you said as you pulled it out to check your notifications. König. “Shit,” you hissed, “it’s König.”

“König? Is that foreign?” Shaun asked.

“One sec I just gotta text him back…”

Hello? Is everything alright? You haven’t texted me in a while and I want to make sure you’re safe.

You hissed and typed out a quick reply before hitting ‘send’ and pocketing your phone again.

“Is this ‘König’ guy your alpha?” Shaun asked, looking at you with a melancholic expression.

“Yeah,” you admitted, “he was just checking if I was okay.”

“Really?” Shaun snorted, “from the way you put it, it didn’t sound like he cared about you at all.”

“Well he doesn’t,” you sighed, “but he has to keep up ‘appearances’ all the time.”

Shaun groaned, “That sounds fucking awful.”

“It can be,” you agreed, “but sometimes… Sometimes I wonder if maybe he does care.”

“If he did, he wouldn’t let you out of the house without a collar,” Shaun reasoned with you.

You hummed, looking down at your sugar-dusted fingers ass they fiddled among each other. You could feel the granules of sugar melting into a sticky paste against your skin, sticking with each brush of your hands against each other.

“It would be nice if my alpha cared about me,” you sighed.

“Well, why do you need him to care about you?” Shaun asked, “and anyways, can’t you break the match?”

“Omegas can’t break matches,” you informed him dutifully, “only alphas and betas have the right to break matches.”

Shaun slumped in his seat.

“Oh…”

“It’s stupid,” you spat.

“It’s sad ‘cause like…” Shaun shrugged awkwardly, “you seem really cool.”

“Do I?” you laughed, “because I’m not.”

“People say I’m not cool either,” Shaun smiled, “so I guess we’d work pretty well together.”

You turned slightly to look at him from the corner of your eyes. He wasn’t looking at you, instead focussing on his own hands, coated just like yours were. His shaggy hair hung low over his face, giving him an innocently youthful expression. He seemed so sweet, so different from the alpha that kept you caged in his home…

“We would,” you agreed, carefully reaching your hand out to his.

He took it carefully, almost afraid to respond to your touch.

“Your alpha wouldn’t like this, would he,” Shaun turned to look at you, his eyes almost golden in the sunlight.

“He wouldn’t,” you agreed, “but I don’t really care.”

You leaned in close, but just as you closed your eyes, your phone rang.

You snapped back to attention and wrenched it out of your pocket. It was König. You watched it ring once, twice, then tucked it back into your pocket.

“I don’t really care what he thinks,” you huffed.

“So, um, I guess you gotta go home now?” Shaun laughed, the tension between you thoroughly shattered.

“I guess,” you sighed before perking up briefly, “can I get your number? We can still talk and stuff. I’ve only just moved here, so it would be nice to know someone locally.”

“Sure, uh, just hand it over,” Shaun took your phone from you, trying to suck the sugar off his fingers before typing away and handing it back to you, “sorry about all the, uh, sugar and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you tucked your phone back into your pocket before typing your number into his and giving it back to him, “but yeah, it was great meeting you Shaun.”

“It was great to meet you too,” Shaun grinned.

“Well,” you looked at the bus stop across the street, “I guess I gotta go now.”

“Call me when you get home, yeah?” Shaun asked as you walked off.

“I will!” you promised and turned back to the bus.

“Where were you?” König hounded you as soon as you stepped through the door.

“I was out at the market,” you replied as you hauled the groceries into the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you text me?” König asked, drumming his fingers against the countertop nervously.

“I forgot,” you said as you put away a bag of carrots, “it happens.”

“But you…” König squinted and frowned, “where’s your collar? Did you already take it off?”

“I forgot to take it with me,” you replied quickly as you whirled around to put away a bunch of tomatoes.

You turned back to the counter but slammed into König’s chest. You stumbled back to glare up at him, but his worried face caught you off guard.

“Were you okay?” König asked, placing his palms on your shoulders, “nobody hurt you, did they? How could you forget your collar? You need to take care of yourself, ja?”

“I was fine,” you pushed back from him coldly.

König stepped to the side to let you carry on putting away the produce, shrinking in on himself awkwardly.

“Are you sure?” König asked nervously, “you smell… Different.”

“Somebody helped me around,” you explained easily as you turned away. When you turned back, König’s face had become downright stormy.

“Who helped you,” König’s voice was flat and cold like an iron sword.

“Some guy at a stall,” you tried to shake off the nerves that crawled up your back.

“An alpha?” König stepped in close.

You stopped what you were doing to look back at König closely. He had leaned in close, almost menacing in how he now crowded your form.

“Maybe?” you shrugged, “I didn’t really pay attention.”

König stopped you from turning away and leaned in close. Before you could say anything, he rubbed his neck against yours quickly, once on each side. He stepped back, but kept his grip on your shoulders.

“Better,” he said quietly.

“What’s wrong with you?” you spat.

König watched you carefully, taking in how you puffed up with frustration in his hold. A part of him seemed to soften as he took in your form.

“We need to keep up appearances,” König replied dryly.

“That’s bullshit,” you scoffed.

König ducked his head, but the grip on your shoulders tightened. He grimaced, then turned back and tucked you into his chest.

“Appearances matter,” his voice cracked slightly, but you didn’t mention it.

Instead, when you stepped back you trailed a hand on his chest, “Why do you care so much?”

“Appearances,” König choked out.

“That’s not why you care,” you tried to let your hand fall on his cheek but he was quick to duck away.

“It’s all that matters,” König’s voice was faint as he left the room, “it’s what keeps us safe.”

You watched him leave the room quietly. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, but you weren’t as eager to pick up the phone this time.

AU Masterlist

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

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Price to Pay

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power dynamics, violence, blood, death, grief and trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: a robbery changes your entire life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 Siri's Birthday Bone-nanza! Happy Birthday. Enjoy. I've cooked you up some Mob AU+Andy Barber.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The flashing lights fade away with the squall of the siren. The smell of iron tinges the air and stains your every breath. You shudder as you stare through the tight squares between the bars across the windows.

That grating did little to deter the robber. No, he made you do it. You had no choice.

You look down at your hands. Will the shaking ever stop? There’s blood crusted around your nails despite the frantic scrubbing in the bathroom. Once the officers took their evidence, you couldn’t stop trying to wash away the taint.

The floor shows the crimson imprint of where the men fell. Where you went to hold him in the throes of death. The fate you fired into his chest. It was you or him. That’s what you told yourself. It’s what the police said too as they wrote out the report. Come down tomorrow and sign your statement, ma’am.

Stan couldn’t be bothered to come down to the corner shop. He owns the place but is doesn’t mean he gives a shit. The officers waited for him to show but resigned themselves to following up later.

He had a gun. You couldn’t do anything else but open the drawer and scoop out the bills. You weren’t going to do anything but hand over the money but then he fumbled and you did too. The scramble for the pistol under the counter slowed time. The pull of the trigger put it into overdrive.

You can feel the recoil in your forearm. The rest of you is just as stiff. You can’t untie the tension left by the night’s deadly end. You killed that man. He's rolled him out under a sheet.

He bled out in your arms, even as you desperately tried to stem the flow with the dirty rag. Why did you shoot him? Over fifty bucks worth of change?

Adrenaline. That’s what the cops told you. Stupidity is what you believe. This job isn’t worth all that.

And you still have to finish your shift. You look away from the faded stain on the floor. He was so young. He just made a stupid decision and you took everything from him. He’s dead. You killed him.

🚨

You stand outside the convenience store. Strange how it seems just the same as it was. The dingy moniker flaps at one corner as a tear rents the fabric.

Customers come and go as you stand on the curb. You’ve been standing there for an hour now, trying to make yourself go inside. You have to work. If you want to stay in the hell-hole you call a home, you need the stingy paycheck.

You check the time. You’re not late yet. You only came early because you couldn’t stand to be alone in your apartment. Now that you’re here, you just want to go back.

A bang jars you and you cry out, spinning to search for the source. A rusty old Chrysler chuffs out black smoke and rumbles loudly. Just a backfire. You knot your shaking hands together and search the block.

“Heard something about a robbery,” a voice draws your attention towards another car. The model is too nice for a neighbourhood like this. A man leans against it, his hands in his pockets. “Young kid. They took him down to the morgue.”

You squint at the man in confusion. His suit is finely tailored and his beard trimmed to a tee. He stands out among the sagging jeans and worn leather. You shake your head.

“I heard...” you croak.

“Sad. Stupid kid, huh? Stupid decision. All for a couple bucks.” He tuts and shakes his head.

“Yeah, um, tragic. I...” you look over your shoulder. “I gotta work.”

You turn away and march across the pavement. Something about the man’s cool demeanour sets you on edge. Or maybe it’s the reminder of the night before. Not that you could forget.

You enter with the chirp of the bell and greet Mauricio as he plays solitaire on the counter top. Your sneakers squeak to a halt before you can step on the cracked tile with the red splotches. You stare down at the festering memory.

“Tough night,” Mauricio says. “I never shot one, ya know? Always shoot past ‘em. Give ‘em a scare.”

You tuck your chin down and step over the tile. Mauricio lets you in through the door and you sidle behind the counter. You put your purse in the cupboard by the cigarettes and sniff. You wring your hands and lean on the shelf as you wait for your shift to start.

Mauricio shuffles the cards and packs them away.

“You okay? Police were here earlier.”

“They were?” You gulp.

“Might be back. Think they just wanted some Coke,” he snickers and tosses the cards under the till. The gun is still gone, probably down in some evidence locker. “Stan is pissed about the pistol, ya know?”

“Mm, I didn’t... didn’t mean to.”

He sniffs as he pats his back pocket, making sure he has his wallet. “Sorry, senorita. It can’t be easy, wish I had some way to help but Stan isn’t gonna pay me nothin’ to stay and I got that gig down at Jethro’s.”

“I’m fine.” The lie is less than convincing.

“Told him, shouldn’t have you on nights.” He shakes his head as you move to let him past.

“It’s work.”

“Eh, it’s somethin’,” he scoffs and hands over the keys. “Whole thing was plastered in the paper and all over the internet. Should keep the bad ones away for a while. Place is hot now. No one wants to get their ass blown off over pocket change.”

“Sure.”

You clip the keys on your belt. You back up and cross our arms. You lean again as you wait for him to go. You can’t say what’s worse, being alone or talking about it.

As Mauricio goes, a customer enters. She wants a pack of menthol and some scratchers. You ring her through as she snaps her gum between her teeth. The bell chimes with her exit and stutters as another enters.

It’s the man in the nice suit. He stops at the newspaper rack and grabs an issue. He struts up to the counter and throws it down.

“Just the paper?” You ask.

He steps closer and opens the newsprint. The crinkle is deafening in the drone of the local radio station buzzing from the speaker above you. He taps the page.

“Kid was eighteen.”

You bite down and stare back at him. You don’t know what to say or do. Is he some sort of detective? His suit might suggest as much but he hasn’t flashed a badge.

“It was a BB gun. Looked pretty real, didn’t it?” He spits.

You wince and shrug. You trace your knuckles nervous as you look down at the paper. Your nose tingles, your eyes too.

He backs up and heaves out a sigh. He glances around and strides up to the stained tile. He looks down at it emphatically.

“Blood don’t come out easy. No matter how much you scrub or bleach. It’s like that Edgar Allan Poe story...” he raises his chin and closes his eyes, taking another deep. “Do you hear it? His heartbeat? Racing as the life drains out of him?”

Your lip quivers and you shake your head. You flick away tears before they can fall, “I didn’t mean to.”

His cheek twitches and he snorts. He turns to your stiffly. He comes back to the counter and you tense as he reaches under his jacket. You shudder and peek at the empty shelf beneath the till where the pistol should be. He slips out a photo and lays it down, his thumb lingering on the frame.

You gasp. It’s that boy. He’s young and smiling. He doesn’t look scary like the night before.

“You didn’t mean to kill my son? Over a bunch of piss-stained bills? You couldn’t tell the gun was a fucking toy?!”

You cower and your eyes well. You rub them with your sleeves.

“I’m sorry.”

“You fucking will be, sweetheart. Do you know who I am?”

You stare and your mouth falls open.

“His name was Jacob. Jacob Barber.” He swipes up the photo and snarls. “Any bells ringing?”

You gape at him in horror. Barber. Yes, you’ve heard of him. He’s no detective. That suit is just a disguise. His business is deadly. His business is his ego. The personal is professional and you just stepped over the line.

You brace yourself and drop your arms straight. You watch him, waiting. He looks back at you, agitation rippling above his brow.

“Nothing else to say?” He sneers.

“I deserve it.”

He arches a brow, “deserve what?”

“To die. So do it, please.”

He laughs sardonically. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s cute.” He puts his hands on the counter and leans in. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m gonna do a lot fucking worse.” His eyes flick up and down and he pushes off. “You owe me and I always get what’s mine.”

He twists on his heel and marches out. You gulp, frozen in fear, and watch after him. You don’t move until the next customer enters. Even then, you can hardly make your body listen to your fractured mind.

🚨

There is no coming back. Thing’s don’t get better. You don’t calm down. You don’t sleep. You barely eat.

All you can think about is the blood gushing from that boy’s chest. When you manage to close your eyes, you feel the hot stream flowing through your fingers. You smell it in the air. Beneath it all, you hear his father’s threat.

‘You owe me...’

How can you repay that sort of debt? You killed his child. You didn’t have to. You could have handed over the money and told Stan the kid had a gun pointed right at you. Why did you do it? That question is as torturous as the memory.

A week goes by. Ragged nights followed by desolate days. You stand behind that counter and stand at the reddened tile, or sit at home and rot. You wait for him to come back. Maybe then he’ll just end it.

Another week of purgatory and your dissociation gives way to paranoia. Every time the shop door opens, you expect to see him. Barber and his tailored-jacket, a gun in his hand, ready to claim what’s owed. Every stranger on the street is just him in disguise, every shadow in your apartment is him haunting you.

When he does appear, a month to the day, you’re almost relieved. There he is at your apartment door, stood as he was the first time you saw him. Arms crossed, leaning, looming. You stop and stare at him.

He looks you in the eye and nods at the door. You unlock it and let him in. He isn’t in a suit this time. He’s dressed down, a hoodie and jeans. He doesn’t seem the type for denim. He struts inside and you close the door behind him.

The air is static as he examines the bachelor suite. Your whole life in a single room. He is unimpressed as he stops by the table. Stan lets you take the old papers. You’ve brought home every single issue with a mention of the boy; Jacob. You don’t know why.

His blue eyes are darkened in the gloom of your apartment. His beard is thick across his cheeks and defines his square jaw. His features are stony in determination.

He pushes them to the floor and huffs. He stalks around the space as you stand by the door. You imagine him spinning to you, pulling a gun from under his sweater and firing. You could smile at the thought of it ending.

He stops at the foot of your bed. The lumpy mattress sits on a metal frame. Beige sheets are pulled to the corners, a plaid comforter strewn carelessly below a single pillow. A used double you got from the thrift shop with your first pay. It smells like cigarettes.

You stare at his broad shoulders as he runs his hand up his front. His zipper slices through the silence as he pulls it down. He shrugs off the hoodie and spins on his heel. He slings it over the only chair, right beside the table. He looks up at you, eyes blazing.

“Strip.”

His demand shakes you. It’s the first you’ve felt anything but horrible grief and self-pity. You’re afraid. You weren’t before. Just anxious.

“Don’t say a fucking word,” he snarls as he tugs at his long-sleeved tee.

You untie your sneakers and leave them by the door. You cross the room, staying far from him as you take in every inch. The apartment feels even smaller now.

You unzip your jacket and fold it over the side of the plastic hamper in the corner. You pull of your socks and drop them into the depth of unwashed clothes. You undo your fly, your hands clumsy and shaking. The rustle behind you adds to the speckle of ember under your skin.

You push your jeans down and step out of them. You throw them into the basket and peek over your shoulder. He stands at the foot of the bed once more. His hands are on his hips as he glares at the mattress. He wears only a pair of dark briefs.

His intent isn’t hard to fathom. It’s not about the act itself, it’s the power, the humiliation. You ruined his life; he’ll do the same.

“Hurry the fuck up,” he barks.

You pull your shirt off and fumble with the back of your bra. You can barely get a grip as you quake. You push down your underwear and hang your head. You turn and march forward. He shoves down the elastic of his briefs at your approach.

He’s a big man. Tall, muscular, stronger than you, without a doubt. Even if he wasn’t, he has all the power to keep you in line.

“I don’t want to see your fucking face. Get on your stomach.” He commands as he peels off his last layer.

You put your hands on the mattress and crawl over it. You cry out as he strikes you across your ass and sends you flat. You brace yourself on your elbows and whimper. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed.

He hauls your legs over the edge so your feet are on the floor. He growls and scratches up the back of your thigh. You whine and he swats the back of your head.

“Quiet,” he warns.

He leans over you and plants his hands on either side of you. You stare up at the pillow, focusing on it as you desperately search for the numbness of those last weeks. It’s all gone now. You feel everything. The sting of flesh, the futility, the horror.

He lifts a hand, the bed shifting with him, and traces along your spine. He dips along your ass and kicks your legs wider. He feels between your thighs and jams his fingers against your folds. He’s impatient and cruel. He rams two fingers into you and you squeak, spine arching as you grasp the linen comforter.

He hushes you as he pushes deep. His knuckles press against you and he draws back. He jerks his hand gruffly, fucking your dry cunt raw. You hold your breath as he plumes out around you. Each intrusion is dull and achy.

He tears free of your cunt and angles over you. He guides his tip along the swell of your ass and presses to your entrance. There is no time to be ready for him.

You cry out and throw your head up. It’s like a red-hot iron inside of you, burning from inside out. He snarls and hooks his arm around you, smothering your mouth in his hand. You smell yourself on his fingers as the press against your nose.

He snaps his hips and buries himself in you. You kick the floor and slap the mattress. Your muscles tighten and your bones thrum. He pushes his nose into your hair and ruts again. You squeal into his palm as your eyes bead with tears.

He’s methodical. He pumps into you. Long, slow strokes so you feel every inch. He’s taunting you. He’s punishing you. His hot breath wraps around your scalp as he puffs.

He bends his other arm, elbow digging into the limp mattress, and stretches his fingers around your throat. He collapses onto you, crushing you beneath him as he squeezes your neck and jaw. He has you trapped in his grip.

His pace quickens with his breath. He grunts and growls against your temple as the bed frame whines with his rhythm. His flesh slaps between the squeaky tempo and your pathetic mewling stays cupped behind his rough hand.

He pounds you into the mattress, each dip of his hips heavier than the last. Every ounce of emotion; anger, grief, resent, hatred, is hammered into your helpless body.

He puts his teeth around the brim of your ear and pinches. He growls and you feel the rumble roll through him. His thrusts turn snappy, punctuated by the bite of your flesh. Harder, harder, harder. He spasms but doesn’t let up.

He untangles his arms from under you and pins your shoulders. He fucks his cum into you as he lifts himself up. His weight threatens to pop your bones out of joint. He pushes his thighs against yours, splaying you as far as he can.

His furious onslaught doesn’t let up until your thighs and cunt are painted in him. Until your breathless and babbling, head lolling, defeated as he leaves you smeared across the blankets. He burrows in as deep as he can before he pulls out.

He pushes off the bed, jarring the world around you, and his shadow hangs over you. He inhales and lets it out slowly.

“My son. My only child,” he grits out. He bends and feels along your cunt, spreading the slimy mess leaking from your cunt. “You owe me and I will get exactly what you took from me.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #one shot #dark!fic #defending jacob #happy birthday siri 2024

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multi-fandomdisaster · 2 months ago

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Happy new year, everyone! As a gift to start up 2025, I give you all something I promised you all a good while ago!!!

✨BEHOLD✨, my favorite (alive) Ted details from TGWDLM (acquired during a soundless/no-audio rewatch I did of the musical to study his body language) (except as I go on, it gets more and more uncoordinated and chaotic):

(Heads up: this is gonna be really long, and as such, I'm gonna put the list under a cut as to not take up as much space. We're covering EVERY scene he's in [alive] within an ENTIRE musical. Buckle up, fellas!)

His shoulder shimmies during and after he says the "cute little barista" line

Honestly during that whole segment, the stark difference between Paul's near-complete lack of motion while Ted never STOPS moving

Actually, I don't think there's a moment in the whole musical where he's completely still and I love that

Also Ted seems so happy to be there talking to Paul lol

His little tippy taps on his mug while Bill speaks

He looks over to see the pot of coffee in Charlotte's hands when Bill makes the "coffee in the sugar joke"

His little lip twitch after the "I heard, I wasn't there" line

His facial expressions in the back while Charlotte's talking about Sam singing that morning

How fluffy his hair is during the alley scene in comparison to how it was slicked back the last time we saw him

"Paul," *tap tap* "get in a trash can!"

His apologetic grin to Emma after Paul says "Latte Hottay" and the way it IMMEDIATELY falls as soon as he looks back at Paul

BONUS: the way Paul flinches when Ted touches his shoulder

"My ID's in my back pocket-"

His incredibly confused expression when the cop grabs his arm and starts fake-driving with it

The "look at this guy" point at the dancing cop during the bridge of Show Me Your Hands

The way he starts vibing to the song during the bridge of Show Me Your Hands (this will return)

The way he plugs his ears as soon as the one cop starts imitating a siren (Bill and Emma also do this)

The double take he does when Sam pulls a gun on Charlotte

He uses the trash can lid as a shield

His visual "you're going great" as Emma's talking about Hidgens

The confidence and the smile as he says "A king"

He puts a hand through his hair as he looks down at Sam

He's very touchy with all of his friends. First the shoulder pats with Paul (which Paul seemed very uncomfortable with), and now the shoulder hold and back pats with Charlotte

He slightly extends his pinky when pointing

He often stands with his hands in his pockets and gently sways, shifting his weight thoughtlessly back and forth from one foot to the other. Bro literally CANNOT stand still

Okay, scratch the slightly extending his pinky. Bro just full-on points like this ->🤘sometimes (except with his left hand. Is Joey Richter a lefty? I ask because Ted primarily gestures with his left hand)

The little flourish (and/or fumble) with the handcuff keys as he puts them in his pocket

He rubs his hands together and cracks his knuckles as Hidgens is talking about the blue shit

His crossed arms and general bored body language as Alexa dims the lights

As soon as everyone else leaves, his body language immediately opens a little bit as he (and this is truly the only way I can describe this) swaggers over to Charlotte and IMMEDIATELY touches her shoulders, rubbing them soothingly before full-on holding her to him. Touch is this man's love language, platonic or otherwise, and nobody can convince me otherwise

I love the way he looks at Charlotte. You can tell he genuinely cares about what she me saying, and he looks confused and maybe a little hurt when she pushes him away. You can also see the exact moment the confusion weans as he determines the next words he's going to say.

HE DOES STOP MOVING AT ONE POINT! TO LISTEN TO CHARLOTTE!!! HE STOPS ALL MOTION TO FOCUS ON WHAT SHE'S SAYING!

His smirk on "always will be"

Okay, but like- Charlotte moves so much in this scene in comparison to Ted. Her shoulders, her face, her head; my girl's practically squirming the whole time. And I know it's mostly to drive in the joke with dramatized...flirting? I think? General horniness? Is that what's happening here? (I'm aroace; I don't pick up on/understand this kind of stuff lmao), but it's still a bit jarring to see a character deliberately moving their body so much that it makes Ted look practically still in comparison lmao

He doesn't look genuinely mad during the "I'm not your therapist!" line. He looks mildly annoyed if anything. Maybe a bit frustrated?

I genuinely feel like Ted doesn't like Sam. The two have technically never been seen interacting before, and yet the way Ted points at and states his opinions of Sam is done with so much...idk, "rigid matter-of-fact"-ness. He just...flat out does not like the guy

I have SO MANY EMOTIONS about the "This guy is a scumbag. You could upgrade to a sleazeball" line-

There's a lot of emotion in his arm gestures when he says that Sam's a scumbag. To me, it again looks like he genuinely doesn't like Sam, and he's trying to convince Charlotte that he's bad.

Then he calls himself a sleazeball, and he states it like it's a fact. It hurts even more to me how there's a slight smirk on his face when he says "you could upgrade" and then his face goes completely serious when he finishes the sentence with "to a sleazeball" and points to himself.

He doesn't look proud. He looks resigned to the title

And then he HOLDS THAT POSE, his hands/arms bouncing a little to drive in the point

I feel from that through the "but you refuse to be happy" line, we see a little bit of the caring inner side of Ted before he re-defaults back to his usual more asshole persona

UGHHH I LOVE THIS SCENE SO MUCH-

"I'm gonna go hit on that crabby barista" ✌️

Off topic, but we need a left hand emoji equivalent for every hand gesture emoji in my opinion lol

Ted is MANSPLITTING in that chair. His posture is so bad (and looks so comfy lol)

And also he's fidgeting with the bottle, looking relatively spaced out until he looks at Bill speak

Ted is 100% at his most asshole when he's drunk

Why does bro look like he has a headache at the beginning of this scene?

This goes for the whole show, but my man SERIOUSLY talks with his hands

Is that a bottle of Jack Daniel's? I feel like I should have noticed this earlier, but I never bothered to look lmao

He taps on the bottle every once in a while

"Oh" *nods with unimpressed frown* "My head" *nods with unimpressed frown*

He also stops moving between reactions. Like he's processing the stupidity of the threat in real time lmao

And then he stands up and sets the bottle down so he can go right back to his usual dramatic full-body movements as he makes fun of Bill

Okay, but it looks like he's genuinely having a lot of fun as he's making fun of Bill, and then gets pissed off again once he remembers he's supposed to be pissed off lol

I feel like there's not many details I can go into with this scene that people haven't already picked up on just by watching because Ted's a focal point in the scene

"That's what sense Bill taught me" *bows with the bottle of Jack Daniel's in his hands*

Wait, when did he pick the bottle back up? Is this a case of the "they put multiple shows together for the YouTube video?" Probably. Alternatively, Ted can canonically summon bottles of booze whenever he wants /silly

Bro is SO ANIMATED. He will NOT let this joke die on his watch lmao

I'm sorry, but his reaction to the light smack on the back of his hand gets me every time. Why don't we talk about this more often???

He looks SO OFFENDED (and a bit confused) when Paul takes the bottle away from him

The force in that "WHATEVER!" I stg I could feel that through the screen lol

Apparently he could feel the force of that "WHATEVER!" too because it lowkey looks like he's catching his breath after he says it

Man, I wish we could see Ted during the whole conversation between Paul and Emma. I wanna know what he's doing. I wanna know if he's listening along, or if he's spaced out and doesn't give a shit

UGHHHH I WISH THIS WAS AN AUDIO WATCH BC THE WAY TED SAYS CHARLOTTE'S NAME WHEN HE SEES HER BEFORE JOIN US (AND DIE) HURTS ME IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLEEEEE

*sigh* I'm gonna need to do another watch through at some point that's just me listening for his dialogue during songs, aren't I?

Also I wanna listen to Jamie sing because GIRL CAN SINGGGG

Bro's just standing there watching Charlotte and Sam approach like🧍‍♂️, except slightly crouched, like he's ready to run, but he has no idea what the hell is going on

From a different angle, it looks like he moves to the dino pose™️

HE RUNS A HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR AGAIN!!! I am FULLY convinced he does that when he's nervous now lol

He readjusts his shirt and fidgets with his hands as he tries to think of what to do, and then he goes to approach Charlotte. Then they hit the chorus and he stops. Or rather, it looks like Bill held him back

He does a double take of Charlotte at the chorus

WHEN DID HE PICK UP THE BOTTLE AGAIN??? (Ted's booze summoning powers strike AGAIN!)

Bro is so frazzled by Charlotte walking toward him with her arms extended that he does ANOTHER double take

TED STOP PICKING UP THE BOTTLE OF ALCOHOL, IT'S NOT GOING TO HELP YOU-

HIM SETTING THE BOTTLE DOWN AGAIN AND PICKING UP THE CHAIR-

Did...did Ted try to use Bill as a human shield? You had a chair! Why did you put the chair down???

Legit though, he is cowering behind Bill lol

Sam and Charlotte are NOT letting Ted have a good day lmao

The way he looks around confusedly during "ride it" like "what the hell are these guys doing to me???"

DID HE CRAWL TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STAGE AFTER HIDGENS SHOT SAM???

At this point in the show, Ted's the only one in the main group who isn't wearing primarily white. I just thought that was interesting

Ted is STILL on his hands and knees with his jaw hanging open right up until the "musical doppelgänger" line

I love how he looks at Paul for help when Hidgens makes them sing Moana, like Paul of all people would know the words. I love even more that Paul is the ONLY ONE who knows the words

Ted's just trying to follow Paul's lead lol

Also BONUS: Paul tells TED that he didn't like that movie lol

The look of pure annoyance he gives to Bill as he sings a completely different song

The way he meanders around the back of the stage, looking down at (presumably) Charlotte

THIS IS THE FOURTH TIME HE'S GRABBED THAT BOTTLE OF JACK DANIEL'S (including him starting the scene with it)

He looks so done with everything when he's talking to Bill about him getting his daughter. He looks so exhausted. So...emotionally drained and angry and, dare I say, grieving

I think the bottle switches hands between shots

YES! WE FINALLY SEE HIM DRINKING FROM IT! I don't know why I'm excited about that lol

He momentarily stops moving to process before "Oh, I'm a fucking creep?"

The way his eyes widen during "...people who are FUCKING DEAD!"

He also stops moving while waiting for & listening to Paul's response

There's so much emotion from him during this scene, but I can't think of the words to describe it

He's just so...frustrated and sad :(

He keeps sitting back down in the same chair whenever nobody's speaking to him

AND HE TAKES ANOTHER DRINK!

YES!!! SHOW STOPPIN' NUMBER!!! I LOVE HIS VIBES IN THIS SCENE!!!

I love how he's effectively asleep on top of Emma

HIS DOUBLE-CHIN I CAN'T-

"What? Wha...? What...? The fuck...?"

The way he's facing the complete opposite direction from Hidgens and has no idea what's going on lmao

His slow tired processing about how the heck he can turn/lean around to see

He like- looks around, then tries to look over his right shoulder, then looks around again, rinse and repeat

'What's going on over there?' *scoot scoot*

His expressions range from "what tf is this guy on about?" to "this guys a fucking dumbass"

He's taking in everything occasionally nodding along

Man, I wish I had the dialogue in this scene memorized like to do for basically the rest of the show. It would make analysis of the scene a bit easier lol

The way it looks like it takes Hidgens chucking his Alexa across the room for Ted to realize he's in danger

*GASP* The first time we see Ted visibly uncomfortable with someone touching him!!! Like- a full on flinch and cringe reaction! Now, the real question is if it's because he didn't know Hidgens was gonna put his hand on his shoulder, because Hidgens is actively insane, or because he doesn't overall know Hidgens? Maybe a mixture?

He's breathing SO HEAVILY after Hidgens lets go and walks away. He was NOT okay with that touch

His slack-jawed expression when Hidgens reveals the keyboard. He's so shocked he stops moving again beyond blinking lol

"Don't you fucking do it!" *scoot scoot* "DON'T YOU FUCKING DO IT!"

He looks almost jittery at the beginning of Show Stoppin' Number. He's full-on looking around for an exit

He also leans away when Hidgens walks toward them

HOLD ON, DOES HE LOOK HIDGENS UP AND DOWN WHEN HE TAKES OFF THE JACKET??? I THINK HE DOES A DOUBLE TAKE, BUT I'M PRETTY SURE HE ALSO QUICKLY DOES A FULL-BODY SCAN OF HIDGENS AND THAT'S SO FUNNY TO ME-

He's OFFICIALLY VIBING TO THE SONG!!! And all Hidgens had to do was take off his jacket lmao

*scoot scoot* "Fuckin' go for it!" *bounce bounce bounce bounce bounce*

He is FULLY invested

AND NOW HE'S COMFORTABLE WITH HIDGENS TOUCHING HIS SHOULDER!

He is SO EXCITED about Workin' Boys! The Ted vibes are unmatched in this scene

And his investment during the phone call??? Hello???

"...and Chad..."

And then he's RIGHT back to the vibes lmao

As soon as the Workin' Boys come in, the vibes cease IMMEDIATELY and he's back to being terrified for his life

His very fast head shake

The gag where he starts praying to be saved and then Paul shows up will never not be funny to me

"I'LL GET THE PIANO!"

And mark another one down for him touching Paul's shoulder

And now he's also grabbing Emma's shoulder. And Paul's again.

Both of them are SO uncomfortable with him holding their hands. Emma gets OUT of that SO FAST when he lets go and both her and Paul's body languages are so tense. He notably DOESN'T try to slip out of his grip like Emma does though. He's just so used to it at this point lol

Another Paul shoulder touch. I should have made a counter for this.

I NEVER NOTICED TED FLAT OUT SNATCHES THE GUN FROM PAUL WHEN JEFF'S WORKIN BOY APPEARS THAT IS SO FUNNY-

AND THEN HE JUST DIPS

I LOVE TED

And another nervous hand through the hair!

Teddy...no...those soldiers aren't gonna help you...

Ted please stop waving that firearm around so recklessly, you're gonna hurt someone

He's so excited to see the military that he literally jumps for joy

The way his motion stops so suddenly when he gets shot. And the confusion in his eyes

Orgh the way he tries to resist-

His little head shake no, the way he tries to hold MacNamara's hand back with his free hand, and then when that doesn't work, with the gun hand, the way his eyes are wide with fear...until they're not

The shift from regular Ted to infected Ted is so jarring, especially after hyper-analyzing his body language and all of his small little character motions for so long. He's so blank. His gaze is suddenly so serious and empty. He's dead. In a singular swift motion, they've taken this lively, constantly in motion, utter mess of a man and turned him into another mindless slave. You can pinpoint the exact moment Ted is gone and the Hive has replaced him. It's terrifying. It's heartbreaking. I love it.

And LUCKILY FOR ME THAT MEANS MY OBSERVATION LIST OF ALIVE TED IS OVER!!! FINALLY!!! I'M FREE!!! /silly

I hope you've all enjoyed my insane ramblings about one Theodore Spankoffski! If y'all would like me to turn this into an actually coherent rant (or perhaps would want me to do this with another character, although note that would likely take me a good while just like this one did lol), let me know! The time it took aside, this was actually SUPER fun to do, and it's given me a new perspective and appreciation for the character! Hope y'all have a wonderful day/night/year!!!

#Disaster rambles #I FINALLY DID IT #I'M SO PROUD OF ME #hatchetfield #hatchetblr #hatchetverse #starkid #ted spankoffski #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #character observations #I started this list on December 16th if you'll believe that lol #tw: gun mention #tw: death mention

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iluminated-goat · 28 days ago

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guess who found extremely old and rough doodles of a crack AU that was inspired by one episode from Primal but I scrapped it, I liked how these came out and I wanted to show just so you guys don't have nothing while I finish some drawings!!

Also warning this is extremely self indulgent I just wanted to draw pregnant Stan and living his best life so be warned

Stan while wandering through the streets of South American comes across a wishing well of some sorts (which was inspired by a fic that I don't remember the name ('': ), drunk and with nothing to lose, he throws a coin for the "fun" of it some sort. It was going to have some body horror considering that... A dick changing to a vagina and make room for a womb would definitely hurt.

Realising in the worst way possible that the fountain did work (a little too well), he decides to get his head out of his ass and try to at least get his life on track the best he can just so he wouldn't ruin the kid's life (he doesn't have a self preserving bone in his body but now that he's not "alone" anymore he had to force himself to grow some healthy habits - and like hell he's going to damage his kids just because of his stubbornness and past). It occured the same way in the show, with him crashing the car, faking his death; but not before he goes to somewhere far away, his few option chosen being Oregon, in a small secluded town (unknowingly for him, where Ford lives)

It took him a while to get accustomed to, well, everything. But slowly became routine, having to get clean and get his weight back, acquiring a job and a small apartment (enough for him and his kiddo), medic and therapists visits (which he almost gnawed his skin off at the thought of vulnerability, but he wanted to do his kid right, so the whole package it was). It was hard at first, but life's going well for him, he's in a better shape than he was in years at the few months of his pregnancy, he has a nice (and stable) salary and he has a home to go back to.

And then he meets Ford.

Man's almost having a heart attack right there, his brother who he hasn't seen in 10 years since he was kicked out is standing right in front of the cashier, staring at him with those almost dead eyes if it weren't for the amount of emotions there. He only realizes what he's looking at when he unconsciously shields his stomach, swollen with life (having gotten so used to it he didn't even try to hide it anymore). Ford on the other hand is livid, his twin - the one who ruined his life - was living in the same place as him for some forsaken reason. Not only that, he's pregnant, which shouldn't even be possible.

Their relationship is shit basically. They're still tense with each other, barely talking unless necessary. Stan just wants to go on with his life, Ford as much as he's seething wants to know everything and anything about his brother (even though he doesn't admit that). Fiddleford is suffering, until he convinces his friend to invite Stan to their house (yknow to at least talk, an actual conversation instead of borderline stalking on his job).

Get a load of this jealous and emotionally constipated loser lmao (I don't blame him I would crash out too if I found out I fumbled Stan). Bill is there too bc that fucker can and will ruin lives for the entertainment of it (but he stopped going to Stan's mindscape bc he beat the shit out of him there). I didn't really have much planned aside from this, and I didnt know where to go wit this. Might make some doodles based on this just for fun

Again, thank you for reading!! And I swear I will post my art I just work extremely slow ('': and I'm currently working on a Stancest AU lore I swear I'll feed you guys soon!!!

#goat draws #goat rants #ford: why do you look so fa-#stan death staring him:#ford: .... healthily filled #ford you are not beating the allegations

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sweetwolfcupcake · 8 months ago

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Wildflower: 06

The Secret Garden

John Wick x Reader

Category: Short Series

Warning: Stalking, mentions of violence

Note: John is relatively younger in this fic( late thirties to early forties)

*Thank you the original creator for making such an amazing GIF. I downloaded it from Google.

Unedited

Wildflower 05

According to John’s rational, calculating mind, his job was done. He got her to the hospital, paid the bills, played his part in Winston’s unexplained act of taking the young woman under his wing, and ensured his name was nowhere in the records.

The hospital's owner knew’ John and was an old acquaintance of Winston. By now, John was sure Winston learned of John’s visit and that he brought her to be admitted there.

According to John's rational mind, he should be at the Continental, or at least answer Winston's messages (only two since the morning– he was too refined to send more than that).

But for once, his rational mind was conflicting with his instincts. It was not the first time, but it was a rare occurrence. But there he was, blended among the hustle and bustle, hiding in plain sight— keeping his eyes on the hospital. The entrance, precisely. She could be walking out any moment and with the concussion, he might have to—

His jaws clenched at the sight of Norton helping her out. The younger male’s hand rested on her waist, supporting her. Something was burning in John’s chest because he realised that he had been thinking of being at Norton’s place.

John frowned, realising how irrational he would sound if he vocalised his thoughts. Where were his thoughts going anyway?

What the hell was he doing?

He had an explanation for… his ‘treatment’ of the petty criminal. He needed to take back her mother’s ring for her.

But this?

This was not how he was supposed to feel. He felt like he was losing control over his instincts and John hated losing control. Having control over himself helped. There was a feeling that at least he had some control over his life, some sort of freedom.

Losing that control threatened the little freedom and control he had over his life that was perhaps sealed for hell the moment he was born.

He was a man who moved with a purpose— what was his purpose there? He should be relieved, she would not need any help and he could just go home, or to the Continental.

Instead, he stood there, discreet with his eyes and body language but could not help the scowl that faintly appeared on his otherwise unreadable face.

His eyes followed them as they got into a taxi. With his gaze zeroed on the vehicle, he quickly noted the number in his mind before getting inside his car. He knew he could not rest until she was safe in her home.

Without the shadow of Alex Norton lingering around.

John found himself feeling slightly at ease after Alex left. Another open contract. John received the message already.

Three million dollars was a lot. No wonder Alex chose to take it. But John could not bring himself to leave just yet. He sat in his car, just watching her window. At nightfall, it was easier to make out what was happening with the lights on and her fumbling around. Her shadow stumbled a bit now and then, and John found himself frowning in frustration.

Why was she moving so much?

Stupid girl!

John was surprised at the level of obliviousness that surrounded her. Who would go to a park near dawn? And for what? To watch the sunrise?

Not that John did not appreciate such peaceful moments, but he was John Wick. But she? He could tell she had never even thrown a punch at anyone. He felt it when he first shook her hand. He was taken aback by the softness. He was not used to it, but he would admit it felt… good.

John gulped.

He would rather not remember how her form felt pressed against his. He could be gentle, he was gentle with the women when he wasn’t fighting them for survival, and even then, he was never brutal with the kills. He made it quick.

But touching her felt different. It made him think twice about pressing too hard, holding too tight, even the day he just let her bump into him, he somehow regretted wearing the vest because he could see that it hurt her.

John was not a boy. He was old enough to understand where this was going. He simply could not bring himself to look into its eyes and admit it.

If he did…

He tore his gaze away from the window and busied himself with drinking some water. He stubbornly kept his gaze down, refusing to look up again. His phone dinged with an alert.

An exclusive contract.

There were people he could not deny, after all.

With one last glance at her apartment window, John twisted the keys and drove away into the night. It was time to hunt.

—------

Laying on his bed with a bandaged ankle was not something ‘normal’ people would enjoy. John, on the other hand, was thankful. He was half-expecting a fracture. A sprain was no big deal— nothing compared to what he was trained to endure, or what he endured growing up.

John had turned numb to the pain. He would go on, despite the pain. He would go on without acknowledging it, at least until he was done with his task at hand. People might say he had a formidable sense of commitment and focus. But in reality, it was all he knew. To John, it was the way of life. It was how he was trained, and how he grew up.

The world outside gave him much more agency. Not exactly freedom—but the chain binding him loosened up, and the cage expanded. But he was owned; the whole jungle was the High Table’s prison, after all.

He had been a part of this ‘jungle’ for as long as he could remember. Ruska Roma was simply a prison within this prison— this great ‘system’ he was pulled into the moment he was left orphaned. He thought he could live with it because this was all he knew.

But then came (Y/N) (L/N)...

With her expressive eyes brimming with determination, a smile so kind and sweet it made him sigh. A laugh that sounded like bells of spring and a carefree, oblivious kind of happiness he knew he could not have and a touch so soft, so non-deliberate, it irked him.

Everything about her was simultaneously off-putting and intriguing.

John was compelled to admit, that it irked him because her existence, her presence itself felt like a mockery to his life. She was not chained, unlike him, even though she was born to a woman who once belonged to the same hell he was now a part of. It irked him because she was everything he used to dream of as a child. She had everything he wanted so desperately during his naive years before he was finally disillusioned.

It irked him how many times a day he thought about her. About how vulnerable she was and yet had a certain fire within that he knew would burn him down if he dared venture close enough. This flame, or whatever was within her was soothing for now, but he was afraid of it. Afraid of nurturing something he could not contain, he could not control.

Like his thoughts moving to her now and then—each day, he thought longer, more about her, each time he did, he felt himself softening in ways he never thought he was capable of. He thought he had turned completely numb. She proved him wrong even without trying to.

And it irked him in every way possible.

Even the simplest of proximity they shared, he felt it all over his skin, in each of his veins, he felt it in his heart, he felt it in his mind. It was bizarre, bewildering, and infuriating.

But if he found her infuriating, why did he end up doing all the things he had done so far? Why did he end up watching over her behind the quiet shadows of the night, watching her sleep from the darkest corner of her room? Why would he follow her to her little trips at the parks and bicycle rides if her presence irked him? Why would he fracture the ribs of the man who hurt her, and tried to mug her? He broke his fingers, that man’s wrist would never be the same…

John felt the rage that he used to feel while growing up in Ruska Roma and watching helplessly how unfair everything was, and how powerless other children like him were.

Maybe that was why he felt that rage—he had become someone his younger self would run to for protection. When he watched, the man hurt her. Something in him seared, it stung in all the worst ways possible, and he could not stand the feeling until his knuckles were marred with that rat’s blood.

He had been rather merciful, though.

Anyone with a sane mind would call him a monster. Was he not a monster anyway? But at this point, he had no care for morals anymore— he was only surviving, as every other assassin like him was. To hell with the morals, John knew he was strong enough to be feared.

And if fear was the way to keep the little freedom he had earned, he would let fear reign.

—---

It was another day. Just another day of the same cycle. Waking up, having breakfast, taking the prescribed medication a week after being discharged, and going to work. Yes, that was the ‘regular’ part of the day. It was after work, when she was passing by the park, that (Y/N) noticed a familiar figure on the bench.

His hair was brushed back but seemed a bit fluffier—casual. Yes, that was the difference. He was in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of jeans. She had seen, John Wick only in dark suits. Black. Yes, that was his preferred colour, it seemed. But as she watched him sitting on the bench, a sandwich in his hand and a coffee cup by his side, he appeared so...unreal.

It did not make sense. He was a stranger, more or less, and she had seen him hardly four times(?). But he looked almost angelic to (Y/N). Especially with the setting sun casting a glow on the side of his face.

What the hell are you even doing?

Too late, she was already within his earshot. He turned to her, alerted by the disturbance in the otherwise tranquil park. And just as she thought, the sunlight fell just the right way on his eyes, and they seemed ethereal—perhaps brown was the most loved by nature.

She was expecting some surprise in his eyes but they were so calm, so hypnotic, it surprised her instead.

“Hi.”

“Good evening.”

Wow, even his greetings were classy.

“Um, yes, good day—I mean, good evening.” (Y/N) felt the warmth of embarrassment on her cheeks before noticing the mirth in his eyes. It was faint, but it was there.

“I saw here, and just thought, I would say hi.”

This time, the corner of his lips rose higher “Oh, you live here?”

“Yes, just a few blocks ahead…You come here often?”

He took a moment to answer, and throughout that tiny moment (it felt stretched to an hour), his eyes seemed to assess her before he replied.

“Sometimes.”

John did not verbally invite her, only removing the cup from the bench, leaving space for her to sit before turning his gaze ahead. And while, yes, this was a silent invitation, her mind had gained expertise in overthinking.

Did he really want her to sit?

Or was it him being polite?

He looked fine by himself. At peace too.

And then—

He turned to her again “Are you in a rush?”

“Uh…no?”

“Then, please...” He gestured with his hand, glancing at her. It seemed more like a side-eye but, whatever.

“You like to sit here alone?” She asked, taking a seat beside him, not too close, but not noticeably far.

“Solitude is good for my sanity.”

Stoic and quiet, he seemed every bit of a man who would appreciate solitude over company, like her.

“You seemed so to me.”

From the corner of her eyes, she could see him turn to her. Even seated, he towered over her, sitting straight—as if a soldier were on alert.

“How much of me do you know?”

“Enough to draw precise conclusions, I believe.” (Y/N) turned to him. The last of the sun’s rays kissed his face tenderly. He was a sight to behold, she realised.

There was a twinkle in his eyes, and the shade of brown softened. “You know only what you see from afar. There is no reason or good for you to get any closer.”

“Why? My mother was a part of this world.”

“And she kept you away. That is for a reason. There is nothing to see here, (Y/N).”

“I have unanswered questions. If Winston could—”

“I believe he does what he sees as best. Especially for you.”

“Why does he care so much about me? Why did my mother trust him over anyone else?”

John sighed “I’m afraid I have no answer.”

He answered with a contemplative frown and looked away, setting his sight once more on the darkening sky as the remnants of the set sun remained.

“Sorry, I am not great at conversations, and the past months of moving in all the information have taken a toll, I guess.”

“I understand.” He assured her kindly.

A long silence followed after that. It was indeed awkward initially. She had no new words or energy to set another tone. But it grew to be comfortable, at least for her. They sat there in silence until the street lights blinked on and the moon turned more prominent against the black sky.

“It’s late; I should go now.” (Y/N) stated, but made no effort to stand up.

“Sure”

“It was good talking to you.”

Faint amusement danced in his eyes as he turned to her. “I do not recall much talking.”

Yes, they had been sitting in silence for at least fifteen minutes. The of sight of mirth in his eyes made her smile

“I cannot say I hated it.”

He smiled at her. It reminded her of an intimidating and misunderstood large canine trying to socialise. An awkward smile that came with a nod. But nothing mattered because it was in his eyes. The soulful and melancholic pools of molten chocolate had the perfect tinge of golden brown when the sunrays fell on them a few moments ago before the sky darkened.

“Okay, so, see you around? I guess?” (Y/N) forced her gaze away, not wanting to come off as creepy.

“Maybe.” John replied, “Let me walk you home.”

“Oh no, there’s no need. My house is just a few blocks away…”

By the time she was closer to finishing the sentence, he was on on his legs.

“Even better, it’s not far then.”

“Yes and—”

And he was already walking ahead. It turned out, that walking home in a comfortable silence was not that bad.

****

#yandere john #younger john wick #yandere john wick x reader #yandere john wick #john wick x reader #dark john wick

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safekeeperscosm · 6 months ago

Note

Little surprised you haven't been joining the Billford resurgence after Book of Bill pretty much made it canon

ME TOO HAHAHGSHS it's hard when I have 2 other fixations at the same time as well 😅

I have been kinda keeping up tho! on my gf @arson-of-dreams sideblog. tbh billford is second to the euclydia side of things, next to jheselbraum,, but either way TBOB has definitely been vindicating to me about my own hcs and view of their characters in canon. unfortunately all I want to do is silly light-hearted jokey stuff cause man they weren't kidding about the heavy things. I loved every word of torture and torment its heartbreaking and terrifying AND the pines especially ford gets their closure/happy ending 🥺 I hope the theraprism is a nice rehab cause on one hand bill my silly billy bill needs help and kindness and compassion, but on the other hand I got some bad vibes with the asylum side of things...

it really popped off with the bill stories of possessing the undead, eating people, all good stuff. AND PACIFICA GETS SOME LOVE how did both my fave characters end up covered in blood teeheehee

haven't heard much of gideon, but the parallels go soo hand in hand

I've always believed in ford was obsessed with bill, then the turn tables with bill obsessed with ford after the breakup, and ford is still obsessed but that admiration adoration has turned into vengeance and hatred, they are so divorced and ford is so over him, bill fumbled so hard he died lmaoo I never expected sympathetic bill to be canon but I've always known it ever since the penthouse scene. AND JHESELBRAUM LORE I REALLY THOUGHT WHAT WE HAD WAS ALL WE WERE GONNA GET

excuse me I'm very sleep deprived and have been very sick, take some doodles 💝

I did the last two before the website happened 💀 also look at my billford hatechild I made from my last gf fixiation teehee

#yeah safe answers stuff #yeah safe draws stuff #gravity falls #the book of bill #bill cipher #stanford pines #jheselbraum #jheselbraum the unswerving #scalene cipher #billford #jheselbill #billford fanchild #gf oc

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harpsinfinity · 16 days ago

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Hi! I love your writing and if you're taking requests right now i'd like to ask for chris redfield🤍 honestly anything with Chris is fine with me cuz i just have chris brainrot so if you wanna do something creative, but i had this specific idea where it's basically best friends to lovers and reader basically just broke up w her boyfriend who was always not the best and never treated her right (and chris always knew he could treat her better). And if you want some smut in the end where he basically does things her ex never did for her and shows her what it could've been like. I hope that makes sense.

Thank you!!

all of your ideas are things I've wanted to write but haven't, so thank you for pushing me to finally write it ❤️

Afab!fem!reader

Nsfw below !! ↓↓↓

Oh how Chris loathed the man you'd decided to date. The asshole never treated you right, always taking you out on the promise of a lovely date night, only to run with his tail tucked between his legs when the bill came.

Never complimenting you when you bought pretty clothes for him, or got your hair done just the way he liked. He didn't even keep it a secret, one time all three of you want out he had the absolute audacity to make you order a salad and a water instead of what you wanted. (He knew deep down you wanted that cheeseburger and a diet coke)

And, on top of it all he knew that the idiot could not make you come for the life of him. Because you were so close, there was absolutely no tmi, so he knew from you telling him that every night you had to fake it. And it didn't suprise him when the bitch only lasted 30 seconds. (And that he couldn't find your clit)

So it didn't suprise him when you knocked on his door late at night. Staring up at him with teary eyes. He never outwardly expressed to you that your (now) ex-boyfriend was public enemy number one.

He held you close as you cried into his chest, babbling on about how he cheated on you with the female colluege at work he told you 'not to worry about'. Was Chris surprised? No, he'd expected the man to fumble.

Chris knew that he could treat you right, he knew you inside and out. Your interests, your favourite artists, the style of clothes you wear. He knew all of it, like he had a little dictionary in his mind dedicated to you.

"you don't need that asshole, you've got me, alright?"

He brushed back the fallen strands of hair from your face, sticking a soft kiss to your forehead. Chris always knew how to make you feel better, it was one of the many abilities he had.

You nod in agreement, a smile playing on your features

"thank you, Chris. You're the best"

What you didn't expect, was for him to take your breath away with a kiss. His lips against yours in a soft, and sweet manner. With one hand on your waist, you were shifted into his lap, the other cupping the side of your face.

When you parted, his eyes looked into yours with nothing but pure love and affection for you.

"you're so beautiful. please, let me treat you right."

You nod, pulling him back in for another kiss

"I'd like that"

you murmur against his lips,

Chris deepens the kiss, oh how he'd dreamed of this for so long. To kiss, to hold the girl he was hopelessly inlove with. He'd spent far too long watching you prance around with that bastard. Now that he was gone, he was going to love on you until he could no more.

"I love you, I always have"

His affectionate words made your face heat up, your heart beating just a little bit faster as you returned those three, meaningful words

"I love you too, Chris"

You feel him smile into the kiss as he pushed you down onto the sofa, flat on your back as he peppers your face with kisses. Moving down your neck as you smile and giggle in return.

"let me make you feel good, I'll make you feel better than he could"

His big, warm hands slide up your shirt. Touching your bare skin, it send pleasant shockwaves up your spine as you hummed in response

"please, I want you, Chris"

you affirmed, kissing his lips once more before he started to descend downwards. The hands under your shirt grip the hem of it, pushing it up to expose your chest.

His nimble fingers traced the fabric of your bra clasp, he asks:

"can I?"

You nod in affirmative

"please"

That was all he needed as he swiftly undid the clasp, pushing it out the way to exposed the soft swell of your chest to him.

Next came your pants, pulled down to your ankles, panties too. Chris leaned back to admire your beauty, he was so lucky to have you. Every soft curve, every mole, every scar and stretch mark. It made you all the more beautiful, and his cock strain against the fabric of his pants.

"fuck, you're stunning"

It wasn't long before he leaned back down, pressing his body against yours and latching onto one of your breasts with his mouth. His hand occupying the other.

You moaned softly as his tongue worked over your hardening nipple, his hand thumbing at the other one. You couldn't deny the slick that had begun to coat between your legs. You were sure you'd be soaked by the time he reached between them.

Your hands met his back, another breathy moan spilling from your lips as his hand and mouth switched their positions.

"oh my god, chris.."

You whined, your eyes fluttering.

That asshole never even made you a little bit wet, they type of person that didn't think foreplay was necessary. Of course, he refused to finger or eat you out. Remarking how "gross" he believed it was.

But he was long forgotten as chris' mouth latched off of you, rough fingertips gliding down your abdomen. You could've cried out of pure joy when they gave your clit the attention it had needed for so long. You were absolutely soaked underneath his delicate and skilled touches.

"he never give this pretty little clit any attention, love?"

You shake your head, hips jerking when he made the circular motions to the sensitive bud more defined

"n-no, he didn't"

Chris leaned down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear

"did he ever do, this?"

He questioned, his voice deep and smooth as two fingers stroked across your slit. Igniting a gasp from you before they entered you, stuffing you all the way to the knuckle.

You shake your head again, a broken moan gracing your lips. He fingers began at a slow pace, crooked upwards and searching for that spot that was sure to make you melt like an ice cube

He was thumbing at your swollen clit, greedily drinking up the noises you so sweetly gave him.

He could've come right there and then when he saw the look that graced your features when he finally hit that sweet spot inside you that had been neglected for so long. Tonight, he was determined to make you feel stars

He meanly hit that gooey spot over, and over, and over again until you were properly moaning and creaming around his fingers for him. Your walls clenched around his digits, desperate for him not to pull them away.

"that's it, my love. Let yourself feel good"

He stuffed his face in the crook of your neck, pumping his fingers at a faster pace for you.

Although, as much as he wanted to make you cream with his tongue and fingers, he wanted to stuff you with his nice, fat cock. A stark contrast from the little dicked bitch you'd been with for the past few months.

A complaint began to bubble up in your throat, but you were quickly silenced by the sound of his zipper coming undone. Chris groaned when he pulled down the waistband of his boxers, his hard cock springing free. It was pulsing and coated in pre, it practically made your mouth water. He was so big, you pathetically clenched around nothing.

"is this okay?"

You're heart melted, the fact he waited for your permission was both refreshing and admirable.

"more than okay, I need you"

You respond, biting back the moan that tried to follow.

When the tip slid in, you were sure you saw the pearly white gates of heaven. He stretched you out so deliciously, filling you up so full when he bottomed out.

His hips began a blissful pace, it was between too much and not enough. He effortlessly had you crying out underneath him, tightening around him with you wet, warm walls.

"oh fuck sweetheart, this is what you needed, huh?"

He panted in your ear

"someone to stuff you full, unlike that limp dicked idiot. Didn't appreciate what he had"

Your legs locked around his waist, your hands followed suit and claw at his strong back.

"shit, chris. you're so good, so good to me"

You sobbed in ecstacy, his heavy, fat balls smack against your ass with every thrust, fingers concentrated on your clit that was throbbing in time with your rapid heartbeat.

His lips lock with yours in a shameless, pleasure-drunk kiss. His tongue tangled with yours as he continued to make you feel good. One of your hands threaded through his hair, locking in place on the base of his neck.

Your brows furrowed and your eyes fluttered shut, your body building with overwhelming warmth with each jab to your g-stop.

Chris took your hands from his back, tenderly lacing your fingers with his, making a rosy hue dust your cheeks.

He pulled away from the kiss, moaning at the sight of the string of shared drool that formed between both of your lips. It drove him crazy, diving back in to claim your mouth again. You squealed into the breathtaking kiss as his hips began to move in a frenzy. He wanted, no..he needed to make you come. To watch your body shake beneath him, to hear to erotic cry of his name as you soaked his cock in your sweet slick.

"come for me, fucking come"

He grunted between kisses, angling his hips to meanly hit that spot with a crazy precise aim.

You gasped as your body writhed beneath him, the warmth flooding your stomach beginning to burn as your body began to prepare itself to ride out the well deserved waves of pleasure.

You choked out his name as you clenched around him impossibly tight, making a deep, throaty groan come from Chris' throat as your slick coated his cock and the material of the sofa beneath the pair of you.

He wasn't far behind you, prolonging your pleasure with a few more thrusts until he shot his hot, fat load into you with a growl.

It took a minute, but after you'd both floated down from your high, Chris pulled out of you and shifted you into his strong arms. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"told you I could treat you right, sweetheart"

#harpy speaks #resident evil #resident evil chris #chris redfield resident evil #chris redfield #chris resident evil #chris redfield fic #re chris #chris redfield smut #chris redfield x reader #chris #x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #resident evil vendetta #resident evil x reader

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demxters · 2 years ago

Text

—LOVING YOU IS A LOSING GAME

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: jake's attempt to see his girl the week before finals backfires on him leading them to their first fight and an outcome neither of them saw coming.

wc: 3.8k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), angst galore, swearing, mentions of alcohol and weed, drunk driving (don't do it), bad parental relationships, academic pressure

part of the loving you universe || also find it on ao3 here

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Finals sucked. Balancing studying and your social life sucked. Balancing studying, your social life, and your relationship sucked. This was the third week you’ve had to drive Jake away and you hated it. In the beginning he was understanding, giving you a kiss to your forehead when you asked him to leave. Or dropping by the apartment with some take out because he knew you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d even send the occasional Don’t forget to hydrate! text, to which he would get nothing more than a thumbs up in response.

He got it, really he did. He understood how much your studies meant to you. You made it very clear at the beginning of your relationship that you weren’t going to drop everything for him. And he respected that. Hell, he admired you for it. He definitely didn’t have the guts to do it. But it’s been three weeks of him trying to chase you down. Three weeks of quick hugs in passing and good night and good morning texts. Jake missed you. He missed you so fucking much and it seemed like you’ve barely given him a second thought.

Jake knew he was being irrational. Of course you missed him. You wouldn’t have promised him to go out to lunch today if you didn’t. Yet here he was sitting alone at your favorite diner, reaching the top of the hour, and you still hadn’t shown up. His leg is bouncing up and down impatiently and the apples of his cheeks are red in embarrassment. An older couple a few booths away eye him with pitiful looks and not so silently whisper to each other, Poor boy got stood up.

He checks his phone for the fifth time in the last three minutes to find no texts or calls from you. Jake desperately tries again, clicking on your contact and sending a distressed Where are you??? He barely waits another minute until he’s calling you once more.

“Hey, this is Ace, sorry I missed your call. Please leave a message–Jake, stop tickling me! Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.”

“Unless you're a guy. In that case lose this number! She’s taken!”

“Jake!”

He sighs longingly at the sound of the dial tone, remembering the day you two recorded that message. Jake hadn’t seen you in so long. You felt like a lifetime ago. He missed his girl so much that his chest hurt. He’s frustrated beyond comprehension. Before he can even take a second to think about what he’s doing, he slams a wad of dollar bills onto the table, storms out of the diner, and hops into his truck like a man on a mission.

Jake reaches your apartment in record time. Looking back on it now, he probably should’ve just called Nat, Bob, or Mickey. They would know where you were. Though in his defense, he took your radio silence as a sign that something was wrong. Maybe you were hurt or in trouble and couldn’t reach your phone. In this day and age, anything seemed possible. Could you blame him for being paranoid?

Hastily making his way to the second floor, he barely blinks an eye until he makes it to the front of your apartment door. The faded gold 86 number plaque is staring him straight in the face and he can barely remember the last time he saw it. Out of respect for you, in case he really was overthinking things, he knocks on the door once. Twice. Three times.

When he still doesn’t get a response, his heart begins to race, breathing heavy. He fumbles with his keys, fingers trembling as he tries to find the bright pink Hello Kitty replica key to your apartment. So it’s easy to find in emergencies, you had reasoned with him. He thought you were teasing him in the moment, but right now he has never been more thankful for your sharp thinking.

He jams the key into the knob, turning it counterclockwise a little too strongly, and bursts through the door by his shoulders.

“Ace?” He hollers into the quiet apartment.

Jake looks around for any signs that you were there, only to be met with a spick and span living room and kitchen. Curse your stress cleaning intuition. He practically runs down the hall to your room. He sees nothing but your door and the yellow light illuminating from beneath.

He’s barely thinking as he barrels into your room. He all but falls to the floor as you bolt up from your desk chair at the sight of him.

“Jake?” You exclaim, rushing over to where he has fallen onto your floor.

You grab him by the elbows, gently pulling him up. He groans into your touch, just now realizing how much he missed the feeling of your skin on his. Jake has to bite his tongue to stop the moan that wants to leave his lips.

“Jesus, Ace, you scared me,” he breathes, steadying himself in your hold. Standing back up on his feet, he releases his hold on your arms and brings them up to your face. “You okay?”

You nod as he continues to look you up and down with concern shining in his eyes. It makes you laugh lightly when he squishes your cheeks just a little more. “I’m fine, are you okay? I think I almost gave you a heart attack…”

Jake opens his mouth to speak when a slightly staticy sounding voice cuts him off.

“Hey, Ace? I think I’ll just call you later, yeah?”

Jake’s heart drops to his stomach at the sound, and not in the way it did when you kissed him for the first time. This feeling was something less comforting and much more painful. It made him want to throw up on your linoleum floor.

“Yeah, yeah Connor, I’ll call you back later,” you say, rushing back to your desk where your phone was lying face up on an open FaceTime call. You don’t even wait for him to say goodbye as you end the call.

A burning heat crawls its way up Jake’s features. He’s sure his cheeks are probably inflamed in dark red. Who the hell was Connor and how the hell did you have time for him and not for your own boyfriend?

“Jake?” You call out, breaking him from the fury that begins to build up in his chest.

He doesn’t want to be that guy. He will not be that guy. He trusts you and he knows you would never do that to him. That still doesn’t stop the hurt that floods his senses.

His mouth is open before he can even process the rest. “Do you know what today is?”

You look at him with wide eyes and your lips quirked downward. “Saturday?”

He hums. “Yeah, the Saturday we were supposed to have lunch at–” He pauses, giving you the benefit of the doubt. Hoping that you hadn’t forgotten and were just running late. But you don’t jump in and that makes his heart hurt even more. You just continue to look at him questioningly in a way that he would’ve found adorable in any other circumstance. “Rosie’s,” He finishes for you. “We were supposed to have lunch at Rosie’s.”

“Rosie’s, shit!” You come rushing back towards him, grabbing his hands. You caress the back of his hands with your thumbs and you can only hope that he could feel how sorry you are; how horrible you feel for forgetting about your date. “I’m so, so sorry, Jake. I just caught up with…”

“Connor,” he deadpans. “Yeah, I know.”

He doesn’t meet your eye, and you pout at his clear irritation. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. I can do next Saturday? We could do Rosie’s then walk down the coast by The Hard Deck.”

Jake doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs–much too harshly for your taste. “Oh, I don’t know, I’m afraid my girlfriend won’t be available again. Or worse, she might even forget.”

You drop his hands, stepping back with obvious hurt in your eyes. “I’m sorry, what else do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. Maybe that you’ll try harder to make some time for me? I haven’t heard from you in days! Hell, I haven’t seen you in weeks! Yet, somehow, you have the time of day to call this Connor dude, on the day we’re supposed to see each other!”

You’re pacing the floor with your own anger bubbling up inside you. You clench your fist before pointing at him with your other hand. “It is not my fault that finals are right around the corner! I have been studying my ass off night and day. Which you obviously wouldn’t understand.” You take a deep breath. “As for Connor, we were just studying together! Something that I can’t do with you!”

“Cheap hit, Ace.” It was a known fact that he wasn’t the best at academics, but you knew better than anyone how hard he was trying, making your words hurt more than he cared to admit. Jake exhales deeply from his mouth, attempting to calm his beating heart so he doesn’t say something he doesn’t mean. “Finals aren’t until another week! All I’m asking for is a day. Just one day.”

“It’s not just finals, Jake,” you groan. “Not to me, you know that.” The two of you have been going in circles for the last fifteen minutes. You get where Jake is coming from, really you do. But you also need him to understand you. He knew going into this how important your studies were to you. One day could jeopardize your entire study schedule.

“I know. But is it so bad for me to want to spend some time with my girlfriend? I mean, we haven’t gone on a proper date in months. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time we had an actual conversation!”

You turn to him with narrowed eyes, furiously shutting your physics book. “So now I’m the bad guy? It’s my fault that we can’t hang out?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Jake frustratingly runs his hands through his already messy blond hair. He doesn’t know what to do with the overwhelming flood of emotions passing over him.

You’re sat on the edge of your bed now, too worked up from all your pacing. “You know, I just don’t get you, Seresin. I’ve asked if you wanted to sit in with me. You’ve denied me every time.”

The sound of his last name falling from your lips feels like salt in an open wound. He hasn’t heard you call him that in ages. He knows he’s in deep shit now, but his pride won’t let him admit it. “Sweetheart, it’s not my fault that I don’t find Plato and standard deviation appealing, ” he sasses.

“So, what? You’d rather I go out and party all night because, ‘Hey! It’s just finals!’” You throw your hands up in anguish as you deepen your voice in a clearly mocking tone of his voice.

Jake pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do you even hear yourself right now, Ace? You need to take a break! I’m trying to look out for you. It’s not healthy to be cooped up inside like this all day.”

“Well, I’m sorry I have other priorities that don’t involve you, Jake,” you sigh.

“And yet, you don’t have a problem making Connor one of them,” he sneers.

“He’s helping me study!”

“I offered to help you study, but instead you told me to sit back because you could do it yourself.” He swallows harshly, feeling the reality of your admission sink in.

If it hadn’t been for the tension between the two of you, you would’ve been able to bite your tongue and let the moment pass. However, you were so high strung at the moment that you let your temper get the best of you. “Well, it’s not my fault that I can’t just charm my professors and tutors into giving me a pass. Unlike some people, I have actually put in the work.” The moment the words leave your lips, you regret it. Jake’s shoulders fall and you see the way he visibly deflates and shrinks into himself. You desperately want to take it back, but you did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you felt guilty.

A moment of silence passes between you both. The only sound to be heard is the heavy breathing that escapes you both.

Amidst the silence, Jake stifles the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes by running a hand down his face. Of all the people to insult his intelligence, you were the last person he ever expected to do so. Not once, even before you started dating, had you said anything about how he struggled with school. Sure, you got frustrated with him, but you of all people knew how much work he put into his studies. Unlike everyone else, you were able to see him as something more than the dumb blond frat boy people joked that he was. When everyone else would claim to be teasing Jake about his studies, you were always the first to stand up for him. Saying, Jake Seresin is capable of more than you know!, making him feel validated and more confident in himself. Now, your words felt like a slap to the face and for the first time, he found himself questioning everything you’ve said about him.

He should’ve known the honeymoon phase wouldn’t last forever. Everything was going so well, he didn’t have any reason to think things would go downhill so fast. Of course, Jake was too overconfident about your infatuation with him. He shouldn’t have assumed that you were as in love with him as he was with you. That was his first mistake.

“You know what? I really thought you were different,” he says softly.

“Jake–” Take it back! The voice in your head shouts. Take it back, you idiot! But the apology, the words of affirmation, the reassurances–they all get stuck in the back of your throat like molasses.

“I guess I was wrong about you, Ace.”

You furiously shake your head. You didn’t mean it, you swear you didn’t mean it. In the heat of the moment, you let your emotions get the best of you. You knew it wasn’t an excuse, but you needed him to know that you would never mean what you said.

You thought the world of Jake Seresin. He is smart and he has so much potential. He was better than you at physics and knew all the parts to an F/A-18 Super Hornet. He could calculate distance, time, and speed, like it was nobody's business. He impressed you in so many ways and you were so proud of him and how much he has improved. Deep down, you knew he was right too. This wasn’t healthy. You should’ve tried harder to make time for him after everything he has done for you. But the shame of the hurt you’ve caused, the shame of what you did prevented you from saying it.

“You know what? You can have all the time you need with Connor because I’m done.”

You push yourself to a stand with teary eyes. “Done? Jake, what are you saying?” It was like a nightmare come true, hearing the words you’ve feared to hear since the moment you called it official. But it was probably inevitable, right? You always bring yourself to your own demise. You’re not sure what hurt you more–Jake’s words or the fact that you weren’t so surprised to hear him say it? It was almost like you were waiting for this day to come, knowing Jake Seresin was just too good to be true.

His heart is fighting against itself. One part of him is begging him to stay and work this out with you. The other is too hurt to even look at you right now. In the end, he ends up listening to the side of him he didn’t even think existed until now: the side that didn’t want him to be with you. “I don’t know. I think I need some time.”

You nod, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you need, Jake.”

He sighs before turning on his heel and grabbing the door knob.

“Wait,” your voice cracks. “I love you.”

Jake swings the door open and leaves. It takes everything in him to not turn around and gather you up in his arms right then and there. For the first time, he doesn’t say it back.

__________

You don’t see him for a week after that. You’re so distraught that you throw your entire study schedule out the window. This was all your fault. You know it is, there was no denying it. All Jake wanted was to be with you and you couldn’t give him that. You were so obsessed with the fact that everyone expected you to get perfect grades each semester, that you didn’t even notice you driving away one of the most important people in your life who didn’t care about any of that. That loved you with or without the academic achievements. The only person who cared more about your wellbeing than your stupid grade point average.

The truth is, you were scared. Things with Jake have been going so good that the fear of something bursting into your little bubble and setting it all aflame only continued to intensify.

Because you don’t deserve good things unless you earn it, your mother had warned. Because you can’t be loved unless you’re perfect, your father berated you.

And you are far from perfect, you know that. You also knew that Jake wasn’t your parents. But no matter how many times you told yourself your parents were wrong, their words continued to seep in every single time Jake reminded you that love shouldn’t be conditional.

So you did what you did best, you studied. You strived for perfection. You hoped that Jake could see that you were worth sticking around for.

He left and in the end, it just confirmed that nothing you do could guarantee anyone to stay.

You ended up failing your finals. They don’t hurt your overall grade too much, only bringing them down one letter grade from your solid A’s.

You don’t tell anyone about the fight you had with Jake. You don’t want to burden them with anything else. Everyone was busy. Nat was happy with Javy and Bob and Mickey were busy planning their San Diego Comic Con trip. You hadn’t talked to Bradley and you assumed that Jake had already told him everything. You hadn’t even texted Reuben about joining him for trivia night at a nearby bar.

But you do text Jake. You don’t know if he’s read any of them or not, but you text him anyway. You told him that you failed. You told him that you weren’t planning on going home for the summer because you didn’t want to face your parents. You told him you missed him and that you hoped this isn’t the end. But most importantly, you told him that you loved him and that if you could take it all back you would.

You so desperately wanted to knock on his door and apologize for what you said. To continue apologizing until he knew it in his heart and soul that you didn’t mean a damn thing. You’d imagine how it would go. He would open the door and you would quite literally pour your heart out to him. Then you’d throw your arms around him and tell him you love him before kissing him senseless.

You imagine that he’d smile against your lips, an action that you loved so much. He’d pull away and tell you that he forgives you. He would hold you close and tell you that he still loves you.

However, you weren’t naive. He probably hated you now and you wouldn’t blame him if he actually did because you hate yourself too.

Heartbroken and intoxicated to the bone is how you find yourself after another unanswered text to Jake. You remember him telling you to let loose and take a break so that is exactly what you did.

The frat house is loud. You’re not sure what’s more surprising, the fact that you showed up to a frat party without telling any of your friends or that you’ve had more alcohol than the amount of water you’ve had in a day.

Everyone knew about Delta Chi’s rivalry with Alpha Sig, so you didn’t have to worry about running into anyone you knew here.

You had lost count of how many drinks you’ve had three cups ago and you’re a bit impressed with your own resilience considering how much you hate the smell of alcohol, let alone the taste of it. You find yourself wishing that Jake were here to see you taking a break. That way you could prove to him that you were capable of doing things for him too.

The Alpha Sig house is packed to the brim with people. Everyone’s faces are a blur as you stumble your way through the crowded rooms and hallways, following the smells of sweat and weed to take you where you want to go.

You end up making your way to the patio and meeting some Alpha Sigs and sorority girls who were planning on driving into the city to hang out at a bar instead. They shockingly invite you to tag along and your inebriated self happily accepts.

You find yourself forgetting all about Jake, grades, and your shitty parents. You were just a girl in college who stopped giving a fuck and decided to have some fun. As you continue to giggle with some of the girls in the backseat of a car you don’t even remember getting into, for a moment, you see yourself with Nat, Javy, Bradley, Mickey, Reuben, and Bob. You hear Bradley’s dad jokes and Natasha’s giggles. Mickey and Reuben’s obnoxious singing and Bob’s own laughter follows. Then you see the guy sitting beside you with his arm around you. It takes you a second to recognize that his eyes aren’t your favorite shade of green. Hell, they weren’t green at all.

Your world comes crashing down in an instant. You’re not with your friends and you’re not with Jake. You don’t even know where and who you are with. You just know that you want to go home, that you want to be with Jake.

Before you can even think about begging the person in the driver’s seat to stop the car, you hear a scream then suddenly, your vision goes dark.

a/n: in my defense, i haven't done a good angsty fic in awhile*immediately goes into hiding* pls don’t hate me….. and again, as always the inbox is always open and thank you all for reading!!

a/n 2: also ty @intrepidacious for giving me their first fight idea it was a big help!!

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