#but alert and observant are right fucking there

[ssvnormandie]

there are two wolves inside of me the first wolf wants me to choose feats for flavour and the second makes me want to chose feats that will actually be useful in game

[haneys]

me trying to explain that psychosis is inherently nonsensical and I cannot talk myself out of it with "facts and logic":

my friend: well yes that makes sense. but Surely when it's XYZ you can just see that-

me:

[luvwestwood]

"Give Me Five" - Choso Kamo

4,591 words.

₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw (18+), ice-hockey player! choso, bestfriend's brother trope, p in v, resolved sexual tensions, foreplay, fingering, titty sucking, choso fucks you in his jersey, orgasm denial, praising, hair pulling, rough play, nsfw links (underlined), spitting kink, mirror play, feral choso

₊˚༊*·˚ notes. I absolutely enjoyed making this special request for @moonriseoverkyoto! thank you all so much for 700 followers ^^ included a link for you lovelies as a gift, hehe I hope to send more work your way soon :) thank you for the love and support this whole month!

rightful art credits to @/kmskc_f, @/yume041624, @/elcheggen, @/uoru1_juju (all on twt)!

(russian translation) - creds to @juliabelll 🩷

Goosebumps formed all over your skin as you were met with the coldness of the rink. Bits of regret filled you for being stubborn this morning, choosing to not wear extra layers. Squinting, you look around to find a close friend of yours, not too far a figure jumping up and down catches your eye.

"Hey! Over here- I'm here!" Yuji called to you in his typical, chirpy voice. Multiple heads turned to the sudden commotion, followed by another look to your direction. Embarrassed, you facepalm; whispering quiet apologies to others as you squeeze past the row of seats, making your way over.

"Yuji!- I got caught in traffic. Did I miss anything?" You fold down the seat next to him, the excited Yuji passing you another one of those generic team jerseys that he also had on. You take a good look at it before putting the garment over your head, the team colours being black and yellow.

Beside you, the boy rummages through a large plastic bag of popcorn. "Mmph- No- My brother would be happy if he knew- You were here." His eyes were wide open and alert, observing the game like a hawk.

"..Ah, it's nothing. If I didn't go, I would have been rotting at home." You giggled, knowing the real answer. As soon as Yuji sent the text, 'wanna go to my brother's game next weekend?'. You had to go. You've been dying to go. Ever since you met Choso for the first time, you made good use of every opportunity you had to see him.

He had an unforgettable face, and a dreamy body you'd sometimes, and shamelessly catch a glimpse of from time to time. But you were doubting, and unsure if the feeling was mutual. The man was busy, which drove you to think he had no time for a woman in his life.

You fixate your head to the rink in front of you. Of course, you got a hold of the best seats. Yuji being the brother of a world renowned hockey player had it’s benefits.

The same bag of popcorn lands firmly onto your lap, Yuji reaching for the soda cup underneath his foot. "Hmm, he looks pissed though. I think I know why." He leans back, index finger scratching at his head.

You furrow your brows, taking several glances around the ice. A familiar back faced you, 'Kamo' and '12' plastered onto the behind of his jersey. Dark hair effortlessly left down, not too much going on. A couple loose strands falling onto his face, Choso looked like a dream. Yuji beside you shrieks for his name, cheering his brother on.

Choso spins around, glaring at the audience. He was outraged, and you weren't sure why. He didn't dare smile, or wave. Yuji grunts at his brothers reaction, smile fading and slouching back down onto the seat.

"..Oh, I get what you mean now." It was undeniable that Choso was a different person behind his helmet, and that he took the sport seriously. He always wanted to make everyone proud. As one of the best players on his team, everyone counted on him, so there was a generous amount of pressure on his shoulders.

The screeching blow of a whistle shrills throughout the arena for half time, Choso violently shoving his hockey stick onto the ice. Plenty of teammates approach him, others choose to not get involved. Either way, he shoves past them. Everyone around you seemed confused, wondering what made him so agitated. You watched as he cursed to his higher-ups, hands strongly gripping onto the side wall.

"Every day, I fucking hate this sport more and more." Choso speaks through gritted teeth, angrily ripping off his helmet. "Piece of shit."

The staff team stands aside, ushering him out of the rink. His coach guides him over to the side bench, crouching down to give him a typical, motivational chat. Choso only puts his head down and into his gloved hands, becoming more and more annoyed by the second.

"Kamo- you know what? Bring your ass back to the locker room and give yourself five." Not knowing what to do, his coach decides it was best for him to blow off some steam. Not letting out another word, he storms off back into the locker rooms, the crowds groaning as he does so; the privacy invading camera focusing on him.

Chatter filled the air between the crowds around you. “..What happened to him? Your brother just stormed off.” You turn to Yuji, confused and filled with millions of questions.

"No clue, but I'm still a bit hungry." Yuji sighs, looking at the now empty plastic bag of popcorn. He takes a sip of what's left in his soda cup.

"..What? You are?" You look through your purse for some money. More than enough, that's for sure. A wrinkled twenty bill was tucked away inside. "Here- I'll go and get you something. It's on me."

You could've sworn that you had seen happiness twinkle in his eyes. This boy certainly loves to eat. "..Really?" He smiles, in response you nod your head up and down.

"Yeah! Just give me five, I'll be back as soon as possible." You warmly confirm the offer and he nods, shortly before you had to endure the entire process squeezing your way back out of the row.

You walk off into the tunnel leading to the outside of the arena. So many halls, and I’m not even familiar with this place. The two minute stroll led you to nowhere anyways, resulting in you doubting yourself. “…Where’s the food court?” You pout, coming to the conclusion you had probably been walking in circles this whole time.

The next long corridor you were met with was filled with doors everywhere. Loads of them. “..Ah.. have I been here before?”

Walking past each door, you look around for anybody nearby who was able to provide some sort of guidance. Hopeless, there was no one at all. Until one door you had walked past was slightly open, the light on. Maybe someone was in there? You genuinely just wanted to get your hot dogs.

You retrace your steps backwards, the faint sound of two voices coming from the room. Curious, you peeked your head through the slight gap.

"I don't think I did my best out there." It was Choso, elbows on knees on a padded seat. Heaving heavily, pulling the last strings of himself together. His coach with arms crossed in front of him. The conversation was hard to make out, but you were still able to put together some bits of it.

Clutching tightly onto your necklace, you couldn't help but feel concerned. Choso adored this sport with his entire heart, but so much he didn't have time to do anything else. Yuji always talked about how distant he could be when preparing for the new season.

The cursing stops, and before you know it, the door in front of you was wide open; framing you to look like an absolute snoop. You howl, instantly stepping back from the door frame. The same coach stood in front of you, an appalling look on his face. "Who the hell are you?! A money hungry reporter? Guards!-"

You nervously laugh, "Oh- No, no- I'm not a-", endless words were coming out of your mouth in a complete babble.

"..I know her." Choso who was watching everything unfold, tilted his head to the side, looking to see who was at the door.

The coach looks at you with an unamused expression, giving Choso a double look. His voice grows low, speaking in a discreet manner. "How about you talk it out with him. He needs it." He says before walking away from the frame, giving you a stare down as he does so.

Dumbfounded, a string of words only come out in a disoriented patter, "..I was just, looking for the.. concession stand.."

Choso on the other hand, keeps quiet. Blankly staring at the carpeted floor. His gloves and skates were off, but his jersey still on. You gulp, considering if you should speak anymore; scared that you'll only tick him off further.

Your hands rested in each of your palms, unsure whether you should step inside. "..I'm here with your brother, actually- cause he invited me to-"

"I know. I wanted you to come. I invited you, I told him to ask you." Choso speaks lowly, his tone different from when he was talking to the coach. He lets out a labored sigh, mumbling. "..Only for me to play like absolute shit,"

Processing what he had just said, it still changed your entire perspective. You didn't know how to think of it though, so you simply looked over it.

Deciding to approach him rather than standing at the door like some stranger, you close the door behind you. Recalling the coach talking about 'money hungry reporters', you didn't want to take any chances. "..I don't mean to pry, but do you want to talk about.. this?" Sitting down on the free seat beside Choso, you were careful with your choice of words. You didn't want to dig the hole any deeper. Making yourself comfortable, you set your bag away to the side and faced him.

Choso's voice was more soft, and it wasn't as stern to when he was talking to his coach. "..I just don't approve of how I'm performing lately."

Personally, you didn't know much about ice hockey. Nor did you store any valuable advice for it in your brain. It pained you to think that if you were to give him advice, you'd sound like a typical high school guidance counselor.

"Oh, well um.." You purse your lips, trying to come up with something to say. "Is it because you're.. stressed?" Still unsure of what to do, your hand slowly makes its way onto the flat of his back; slowly rubbing shapes all over to comfort him.

"Probably." Although his voice was now mellow, Choso's replies were becoming short and quick. You were afraid that this talking out was of no use to him.

Your hand stops its movements, "..Should you do something about it? Like let it out?", Choso lifts his head up, turning to you. A gulp forces down your throat at how intense he was eyeing you, your own eyes unable to hold contact.

Choso blinks, head turning away once again to rest his chin on his palm. "..I don't know how." That was his problem, Choso wasn't good at letting out his emotions. He usually bottled them up, and solved his personal problems on his own— you could almost refer to him as a stoic being.

Clearing your throat, you bite your lower lip to try and think of something. You gave him the advice, but you didn't know the method yourself. This is why I could never be a therapist.

You mentally curse at yourself, trying to come up with a suggestion that isn't so cheesy like, do what you love to do!

"..I don't know either.. Me- I guess?" A worried expression washes over your face, a mazed Choso turning his head to you for the second time.

A perplexed, questioning noise came stirred up in him. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Eyes fluttering, you were unable to provide him with another answer. What did you mean by, 'me'? Was it just another one of those moments where you let your mouth speak before you think? "..You could let it out.. on me?"

Chosos demeanor had altered, his chin peeling away from the warmth of his palm. His body sat upright as he looked at you, his lips slightly parted. You couldn't tell if he was mortified or enthralled; and you were almost begging for him to say something.

He closes his mouth and swallows some spit to nourish his dried out throat, before standing up in front of you. You feel as if your beating heart were to take over your entire body and head any second now. A lingering tension in the air so thick— not even a lumberjack could saw through it.

Choso's eyes surveying you from top to bottom, studying the features on your face— his thumb swipes across your cheek in a tender, reassuring matter. He was grateful of your offer, but he just couldn't bring himself to directly accept it.

Choso's hand slowly moves down your face, the tip of his thumb gently pressing down on your lower lip. "..You look good in our jersey," His thumb forces the rest of its way into your mouth, "..but even better if it was my own." Was this a code phrase for, 'I need to fuck you, and I need to fuck you now?' His thoughts drifted off to filthy things—like imagining himself rutting into you in his own, bespoke jersey, 'Kamo' in a dirty gold written on your back as you take him whole like a good girl.

Your breath hitches, his finger gliding over the surface of your tongue before he decides to pull it back out. Choso starts to take off the gear on his upper half, both the body pads and jersey.

It was difficult enough to keep your eyes off the now, half naked Choso in front of you. His body muscular and perfectly carved from all of the work he's been putting in for preparation, Choso was more than pleasing to look at. He tosses his jersey and gear beside you, his hands grabbing onto the flesh of your waist.

Lifting you from the seat, you wrap your legs around his torso, lips desperately locking onto each other as he switched positions. The two of you now sitting back down on the seat.

Short mewls and gasps for air leave your mouth as you started to pull your top over your head; Choso's hands roaming all over the surface of your ass. Your hands travel down his chest, your finger tips tracing over his abs painfully slow. Tongues tangling, Choso swallowing any moan he could get from you, especially after the distressingly slow period of yearning for one another. It felt like a reward.

Being the skilled man he is, his fingertips undo the clasp of your bra effortlessly. Groaning in satisfaction, eyes closed and sucking; a free hand fondling with the other.

You claw your fingers through his hair, quietly moaning as he hungrily latched onto your nipple. Arching against his bare skin, you ached to keep him close, and possibly closer. Amidst the sucking, Choso reaches for his jersey beside him, gesturing you to put it over your head. He fulfilled his wish. You proudly raise your arms up, feeling the fabric graze against your skin. It was quite massive on you, hence himself being twice your size.

Impatient, your curious hands wander off to the waistband of his pants; his safety gear already being off had made it easier. Reaching down and past his skin tight shorts, a thought evoking in you causing your hand to withdraw.

"..W-wait," You pant, "What about everyone out there?" You couldn't help but worry about those outside who would start to get suspicious. You knew how much this mattered to him.

Choso rolls his eyes. "I don't really care, they're assholes anyway. Let them wait." His lips only make its way back onto the skin of your neck, warm breath fanning down your sternum. He didn't care if everyone else were to wait outside. He had been waiting for this moment, dreaming about it - and would do anything to not miss it.

Using two hands, you possessively grab onto his jaw to keep him closer, Choso's hands cheekily moving up inside the jersey and cupping onto both of your tits. He really loves them, doesn't he?

Pulling away for another breath your lips miss his already. You hop off his lap, hastily unbuttoning and kicking off your jeans. They fly away to the other side of the locker room, Choso pulling you back into his embarace. But this time, you were facing the other way.

His fingers tug onto the hem of your panties, pulling them back until they snapped against your skin; the stinging sound echoing throughout the room.

You intently watch yourself in the full length mirror across from you two, Choso using his hands to guide your legs open; his head falling onto the crook of your neck.

Choso's hand slowly made its way down to the your panties, his fingertips moving the fabric to the side. Toying with your folds, taking his sweet time. His delicate, addicting touch giving you shivers all over. You close your eyes to indulge in the ecstasy of this moment; scolding yourself for not doing this with him any sooner.

His same fingertips circle your clit, the speed of his movements fluctuating; which resulted in you grabbing onto his bicep, your body sinking down into his lap. Choso watches you break into pieces under his touch, how you repeatedly tap on his arm- asking for leniency.

Choso leans down to your ear, his throaty voice almost sounding like he's purring. “Just relax for me, I can feel you’re too tensed up.” Wasn’t it supposed to be me who gives him advice? Why is it that the roles have reversed?

The back of your head presses deeply into his chest, Choso bringing retrieving fingers give them a generous suck before pushing them into you. His fingers curl up inside, working them in a motion that emits a squelching noise.

“C-Choso, it’s too much- please,” A whimper crawls out of your throat, the man above you cooing and hushing you.

Your hair raising pleas being the catalyst for him only wanting to do more than he already is. His middle finger taps and teases and your bundle of nerves, his strength making your tug on his wrist pointless. “..Shh, you don’t want them to hear, do you?”

You frantically shake your head from side to side, Choso grinning against the top of your head as he had you wrapped around his finger. Cock straining against his shorts, he would take a photo to make this memory last.

His gestures come to a halt and you whine, Choso had forbidden you from orgasming. "Choso!" You hiss as he glues his hands to your hips, twirling you around against the seat.

Mindfully pressing onto the flat of your lower back, he bends you forward; in need of support, your hands reached for the wooden slabs that divided the seats. His strong hands rip your underwear into fragments off your body, Choso sneering at you nagging him.

His actions in no rush, the same hands that were cupping your pussy now feeling down your back, Choso sheepishly grinning at this fresh new view, a degree of gratification fills him for the hundredth time at the sight of 'Kamo' and '12' plastered on your back.

You reach behind you, barely tapping your fingers on Choso's pelvis to grab his attention. He leans down to hear what you had to say, the imprint of his cock imprisoned by his shorts pressed against your bare pussy.

“..Let it all out, I promise I’ll be okay.” Your hand snaked behind his head, fingers combing through his hair one last time. His body heat glossed over your behind, a position so intimate.“Just tell me if I’m hurting you, alright?”

Nodding in approval, Choso withdraws into his old position. Grabbing for his girthy cock out of his shorts, he groans as he jerks it ever so slightly. Forming an orb of spit on his tongue, letting it fall directly onto his length. He doesn't waste anymore time to slide it in, the objective of not hurting you still at the back of his mind.

You let out a long, awaited whimper that broke out into a pained sniffle, his entire length stretching you out. Your anchoring onto the wooden panels only grew stronger, Choso stilling in you for a few moments. The two of you create a symphony of guilty satisfaction, Choso himself unable to process that you let him inside of you; luckiest man in the world, he thought.

His grip on the plush of your waist transition into a soothing massage, “..Are you okay?” Concerned, he regards your strained noises.

Tears well up in your eyes, Choso rubbing his hands up and down your back. “..I-I’m fine.” You replied, managing to form some words. Even though it hurts, you didn't want him to stop. You wanted this as much as he did. He inhales deeply, grunting as his hips stroked into you slow and deep. He took you in like a work of art, savoring every minute, second with you.

“Fuck, Choso- just go faster will you? I know you want to.” You choke out, words dying in your throat. Choso obeying the green llight, you felt him grab and twist onto the fabric of the jersey behind you, his hips snapping into you at a faster pace.

A cacophony of skin slapping and moaning echoed throughout the room, Choso brings his hand down to toy with your clit; heightening your stimulation. Your entire body jolting with each of his thrusts, his little praises like 'good girl', and 'you're taking me so well' making your sex pool like mad.

Broken and choppy curses slip past your wet llips, Choso letting go of the jersey and fixing his grip on your scalp, pulling your head back towards him.

His hand sneaks underneath your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as you furrow your brows up at him. Your mouth stays wide open, moans no longer heard coming out from it. "Look at me baby," lids shut at the colossal pleasure, Choso needs not to repeat himself; but he does. "I said, look at me," Hauling your eyelids up, a vision of Choso glaring down at you from above— he wasn't the same person as the one half an hour ago.

Choso drops yet another ball of spit into your mouth, patting on the bottom of your chin telling you to shut and swallow, letting out a throaty sound in approval.

Clawing his fingers back into your scalp, he pushes your head back down. His leg lands onto the seat beside you, his thrusts brutally drilling into you deeper than before; Choso definitely rearranging your guts. You let him use you, so he did exactly that. Hell- if you two had a bed, just make sure you have enough saved for a new one the next day.

Makeup was unfortunately ruined from tears and spit, your hair no longer in perfect style from all the grabbing. His heavy balls relentlessly slapped against your clit, Choso huffing quietly.

He takes a hold of your two wrists, prying you from the comfort of the seat and commanding you to stand. Hypnotised, you watched everything unfold; Choso still holding onto your arms behind you as he continued to rut into your hole like a mad man.

Your cheeks were stained with tears, all sorts of unimaginable feelings stirring in the pool of your stomach; Choso already grows bored of the position. He swiftly lides you off his cock, turning you around for the fifth time today so he could see your beautiful face one more time.

Unsure of what was to happen next, you tiringly wrap both of your hands around his neck as he cupped onto the surface of your ass, lifting you up and sinking you down onto his cock. Your head rests against his chest in exhaustion, Choso’s anchored grip slowly loosening, choosing to move into the inside of your legs. Short paced breaths and eyes shutting at the new sensation of him fucking up into you. It was light work to him, carrying you was no problem at all.

Pushing both of you against a nearby wall, your back almost slid up and down the cold panels as Choso grew feral, his cock bullying but thoughtfully kissing your cervix at this unforgiving pace.

You fail to keep your eyes open, body taken over by bliss as he bottoms into you, convinced you had lost your voice. Choso could feel your silky juices move down his shaft, walls constantly clenching around around him.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes,” Choso orders, your hands hysterically tapping onto his shoulders to let him know you were going to snap. Your face winced in pain, you knew that you were going to have a hard time walking for the next week or two.

“..C-Choso,” you choke out, a threshold about to be met as the unfamiliar coil in your stomach urges to let loose.

His thrusts deepening to push you over the edge, cock sloppily moving in and out of your hole; his entire length coated with you.

“Just let it out— let it out.” he desperately whimpered, your mouth forming an ‘o’. His words like a spell, something that will haunt you for days coming. Choso’s eyes faux-sympathetically looking into yours that were blinking like mad as he felt your legs shiver in his grasp.

You shatter and cry at the orgasm that washed over you, bringing yourself to look at his cock withdrawing from your puffy, used cunt. Choso's jaw clenched, beads of white endlessly form at his tip, his balls twitching at the same time your gummy walls pulsed and throbbed around him.

He doesn’t let go of you, bodies still overheating and glistening from sweat. Instead he carries you back to the seats, sitting you down like a fragile porcelain doll. “My legs,” your voice raspy from the endless moaning, “..they’re so sore.”

Choso leans in for a meaningful kiss, your cock-dazed smile forming against his lips. His hands kneading your thighs. The locker room smelled of filthy, sinful sex—but that will just air out in no time. “..You need me to walk you out?”

“Choso, you can’t. There are cameras everywhere.” You grab your purse off the ground, in search of your phone. Almost forty five minutes have passed, your eyes widening. “Huh?! How long have I been gone for?"

He attempts to wipe the stained carpets, a faint white still engraved. Atleast he tried. “Pussy too good I forgot where I was, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Not funny, Choso. I need to get back to your brother!” Scurrying around the room, you pick your jeans off the ground, Choso whistling behind you causing you to turn your head,

“..Guess these aren’t of use to you anymore?” He holds the fragments of your panties up, torn to pieces, the dismaying mempry angering you as you were reminded of it for the second time.

You snap at him, Choso not taking any inch of you seriously. I mean, he literally had you whimpering, fucked you in his jersey and melting under his touch less than five minutes ago. “You fucking owe me a new pair.”

“I’ll buy you a hundred.”

You hurry out into the lobby, looking around for Yuji. Not having time to fix your hair, you almost scream as you walked past a reflection of yourself, mortified at how you looked. It’s okay… he wouldn’t suspect anything, right?

A familiar coral haired person was lounging at the sofas down the end, of course that had to be him. “Y-Yuji? is that you?” The head turning to your direction, it definitely was him; his eyes were shocked to still see you alive and standing before him.

You sit on the free armchair beside him, “..I’m so sorry, something just.. happened.” Nervously smiling, you wipe the residues of dried spit off your chin, your head stuck in one direction to avoid looking at Yuji in the face. Airing yourself with an invisible fan, you look away in all sorts of directions.

“It’s cool, the game got cancelled anyways- and I got my hotdogs.” He points to the four empty wrappers on the table in front of him. Yuji leans back against the sofa.

“..Uh— ..Is that, Choso's jersey?"

Fuck.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me, ily guys sm!!🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[rafeslittleangel]

Summary: Rafe comes home to find out that you're hanging out with the pogues when he strictly told you not to and decides to teach you a lesson.

Pairing: Dark!Rafe × Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: Substance abuse, violence, gun, mentions of bondage, abuse (choking, slapping and hairpulling)

Read at your own risk.

A/N: I tried dark!rafe!!! Sorry if it does not turn out as well as I hoped for it to be.

Words: 1.6K

The keys jangled in the hole, door unlocking. Rafe pushed the door open frustratedly, slamming it as he enters and shuts the door.

The house was dark, except some lighting in the living room and the dining room. Rafe sighed and walked upstairs, thinking you were asleep, considering it was 2am at night. He opened the shared bedroom door slowly, expecting to find his pretty girl on bed, hopefully in minimal clothing. Instead, he was faced with an empty bed and no girlfriend in sight.

It was an understatement to say Rafe was panicking.

His first thought was something happened to you and someone took you from him, but all the doors and windows had been locked. His first instinct was to grab his phone, shaky hands opening Life360.

"Fuck!" He shouted, your location was turned off.

He calls you, throwing his phone against the wall when the automated voice tells him your phone is switched off.

Breathing became quite a task for him, chest heaving, pupils red from doing coke just some time ago at Barry's. He shouted your name, hoping your voice would come from one of the guest rooms, exclaiming you had been here the whole time.

He picks up his phone, screen cracked but still functional. He calls Topper, storming the house as he checks all the rooms, almost ripping the doors off their hinges.

"What's up?"

Topper finally picks up, video game noises in the background.

"WHERE IS SHE!?" Rafe shouts, loud enough that Topper pauses his game, back straightening and alert.

"Where is who? Y/n? Isn't she home?"

"Would I be fucking calling you if she was home dumbass? Is she at your house?"

Topper frowns, rubbing his forehead.

"Bud, why the hell would your girlfriend be at my house? I'm gonna call Sarah and ask if she's seen her okay? Just-just stay at home. You sound too coked up to be driving right now."

Rafe stares at his phone as Topper cuts the call, promising to help him find you. He looks around, eyes widened and body shaking.

"She wouldn't leave me." He sinks down to the floor, whispering to himself, head in his hands and tears in his eyes. His throat closed up, long hands pulling on his blonde hair. He calls you again and again, received by the the same automated message.

"She wouldn't leave me. She promised me she wouldn't leave me...she-"

He scrambles to pick up his ringing phone, cursing when he realises it's Topper and not you.

"She's with Sarah." Topper says when Rafe picks up.

His words ring in Rafe's mind. She's with Sarah. That means she's with those dirty fucking pogues.

He cuts the call without saying a word, tears long gone as he tucks his gun inside his jeans, keys in his hand. He knew where you were, didn't have to think twice before driving to the Chateau.

He ignored Topper's calls, putting his phone on silent while he drove.

You knew how much Rafe hated those pogues. You knew how much he hated Sarah. But you still hung out with them behind his back huh? He was about to catch you fucking red handed today.

He parked his car a little away from the chateau, getting out of the car quickly.

A yard party at the chateau.

Oh you were in a hell lotta fucking trouble this time.

He observes you from far away, arms crossed and eyes red. He was going fucking crazy inside...but he had to catch you at the right moment. Make you feel guilty and vulnerable.

A particular song that you love comes up and he snaps his head to JJ, who walks towards you. You laugh and you dance with him, tits pressed against his chest and arms around his neck.

In your mind you were just dancing with your best friend.

In Rafe's mind, you had betrayed him and humiliated him in front of the world. His blood boiled as he marched towards you.

Sarah notices him first and tries to pull him back. He pushes her away and reaches you. JJ's eyes widened, your back to Rafe.

That's it asshole. Be scared of me.

Rafe pushes you aside and before you can even register your boyfriend is here, he punches JJ in the face, and hard. He tries to punch Rafe back but Rafe pushes him back, repeatedly punching him till the point you're screaming for him to let go.

"RAFE STOP IT! LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

You yank at his arm and he finally stops, wiping the sweat from his face, kicking JJ's crumpled form one last time. He takes out his gun, pointing it at JJ's head. You widen your eyes and cover the muzzle with your hand.

"Rafe please please please don't do this please..." You whisper, body visibly shaking.

His eyes lay on you next and you cower under his gaze when you see the rage boiling in his stare. He scans you up and down, hands turning into fists when he properly looks at the tight pink dress you're wearing that barely covers your ass. He ignores the rest of the crowd, tugging the gun back into his waistband.

He wraps his hand around your wrist, practically dragging you back to his car, deaf to your protests.

"LET ME GO! HAVE YOU GONE FUCKING CRAZY?"

He opens the door to the passenger seat, shoving you inside and shutting the door, activating child lock so you can't get out.

You try to open the door frantically as Rafe climbs into his own seat. You give up, turning to your fuming boyfriend.

"Rafe..." You whisper, fear in your voice.

He pulls out to the main road, driving way over the speed limit.

"Rafe" You say, louder this time. He speeds up even more, taking harsher turns, jaw set and knuckles white over the steering wheel.

"Rafe!" You scream. "Rafe please slow dow-"

He abruptly turns to the side of the road, pulling the brakes as he undoes his seat belt, wrapping his hand around your throat.

"Rafe, Rafe, Rafe!" He mocks you, tightening his hand around your neck, cutting off your air supply. You struggled to breathe, hands wrapping around his.

"Spit it out bitch. What do you want huh?"

He grinded his teeth together.

"Want to cheat on me with JJ again? Wanna go back to him and let him fuck you?"

"I w-wasnt..." You try to say, tears in your eyes. Rafe swings the back of his hand at your cheek, your head thrown to one side as he let's go of your neck.

You look up to see his face, horrified look on your face. You search his face for any sign of regret but you only see anger.

"That hurt huh? Did that fucking hurt you- you slut!?"

He pulls your hair back when you don't answer him. You gasp, the pain in your scalp bringing tears to your eyes.

"Rafe I'm sorry please I-"

"Sorry huh? Sorry you turned off your location? Sorry for ignoring my calls? Sorry for cheating on me with that dirty fucking pogue or Sorry for hanging out with my bitch of a sister!?"

He yanked on your hair again and this time the tears that flowed down your cheeks weren't of pain but of fear.

"I wasn't cheating on you baby I just wanted to be with my friends and I know you don't like them-"

"Oh so you knew I didn't like them? Glad to know something registers in that airhead of yours."

He let's go off your hair, tears in his eyes now.

"Fuck y/n you told me you love me! You told me you-"

His voice broke, hands on his head. Your eyes softened but you were clearly still scared. From the look of his eyes and the way he was behaving? You knew he was on drugs.

"I do love you I love you Rafe-"

"THEN WHY WERE YOU WITH THEM!?! WHY DID YOU LEAVE THE FUCKING HOUSE WITHOUT EVEN- WITHOUT FUCKING TELLING ME!?"

You flinch at his loud voice. His breaths slow down and he wipes off his tears, starting the car again. You stay silent the whole ride, scared of what he would do if you said anything, scared for your safety.

Rafe was a hothead. But he was calculating. And what he had in store for you, even God couldn't stop him.

He got out of the car the moment you both reached, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you out of the passenger seat. He threw you over his shoulder, storming to your bedroom. You pleaded with him to stop and talk to you but he kept walking, throwing you on the bed.

He grabbed your chin hard, squeezing it between his thumb and his fore finger until you were crying with pain and grabbing onto his shoulders, begging for him to let you go.

"Open." Rafe spits out coldly.

This wasn't your Rafe.

He wouldn't hurt you like this.

You open your mouth anyway, eyes trained on his blue ones. He takes out a baggie from the back pocket of his jeans, taking some powder in his fingers.

"No no no no no...Rafe please please I'm sorry baby please don't-"

He forced your mouth open, coating your gums with coke. He looks into your eyes, smirking as it takes effect almost immediately, body pliant under him.

"You'll never have to leave this house again yeah? Daddy's got everything you need."

He whispers, spreading just a bit more powder on your tongue. You nod, mixture of euphoria from the coke and fear churning in the pit of your stomach, spit falling from the sides of your mouth.

Rafe gets up to lock the door, returning with rope in one hand and gun in another as he feasted his eyes on your perfect body in that slutty dress.

He was never going to let you go.

[grugruel]

Wicked Game

Pairings: cop!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: An out of control college party gets crashed by cops, someone tattled, and a cop chase ensues.

The chief is an old friend of your family, who you'd always had a crush on.

Thinking he's harmless, you talk back. But he can only hold back for so long.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: reader is 20, pinv sex, rough sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), choking, uniform kink, sir kink, reader being bratty, bucky doing something about it!! edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, pet names (girl, doll), praise (yay), mentions of masturbation, slight marking, degrading ish? cum eating, creampie, power dynamic, some soft!bucky at the end.

AN: This is not a Lee bodecker fic! This is just regular, muscly cop!bucky.

Blaring music and thumping bass fill an already crowded house, drunk daredevils otherwise inhabiting it.

God, my skull feels like it's about the cave in. The average college experience in other words.

I'd been drinking the least out of my friends, yet I felt the worst. They sat on the couch around me, trying the wide assortment of drugs that were splayed out in front of us. Littering the table along with various hard liqour bottles, all mostly empty.

Drugs arent my forte, but I wont nark them.

The party had only been going for an hour or so, I think? My lockscreen told me it was 2 in the night, holy shit? It had been 5 hours.

How the hell had no one called the cops yet? Little did I know, how badly I jinxed myself.

'Guys, Guys.' I lazily shrugged the shoulders of two of my friends sitting on each side of me, 'We- we, gotta go.'

'We're fine!' One of them drawled, splaying out on the couch.

I shook my head, head thumping in each bend, 'Theres literally. . .' I paused, searching tiredly for the right words, 'Uhm- No way! That the cops arent on their way here like, right now.'

'We've lasted this long.' The other said, shrugging his shoulders, grinning.

I groaned, 'Fine!' And threw my hands up in defeat, my friend observed me smugly. He held up some coke for me, raising his brows in question. To which I shook my head again.

A sharp alarm cut through the music, everyone groaned, heads complaining at the sound. I figured it was something with the sound system, but no.

I just had to jinx myself, remember?

As my ears adjusted to the sound, I realised. It's sirens, two or three. Cops.

'It's the fucking cops!' I shouted, alerting everyone. The music cut off, and the sirens clarified into the deafening sound of jail, or curfew. Depending on the cop. I was hoping and dreading the Chief in equal amounts, he could take it easy on me, or not.

I roused my friends, dragging them up from the couch and filtering them through the backdoor. Along with at least a hundred other people our age.

My attempts at freeing them had made me lag behind, one of my friends grabbed my arm, 'Come on!' She shouts, trying to pull me with them. But theres to many people between us and she loses her grip, swept away by the crowd.

The front door swings open behind me, and I freeze. Slowly turning around, I see a tall, broad shouldered figure standing silently observing the chaos from the doorway. He stepped inside, searching the crowd, and eventually. His eyes land on me.

'Give em' hell. Get the ones you can!' He barks the orders at his men, and then his eyes narrow in on me. Staring me down, 'And leave this one to me.' His words make my skin crawl, in fear of my parents finding out and possibly, excitement?

I wouldn't say no to punishment dealt by Chief Barnes.

His men rush past me out the backdoor, leading me to back up slowly. Placing the Coffee table between me and the Chief, securing myself somewhat.

Slowly, he stalks forward. A slanted smile growing with every step that he takes, making chills run up my spine. His uniform does him good I notice, shirt and pants sitting around his muscles perfectly. Belt and gun? Hot.

'Heeey, Buck.' I smile cheapishly, 'Fancy meeting you here.' Testing the waters, seeing what chances my charms have of easing the situation for myself.

He nods, raising his eyebrows in response and grins in spite, as if answering, "I'm sure it is" and "You're in deep fuckin shit now."

I laugh nervously and try again, 'I didn't know you enjoy college parties Buck? Or just, college girls?'

Amused, he steps closer, It's now only the table separating us. I step up on the couch behind me, desperately trying to make up for the space I'm losing. He puts his hands around his belt buckle, smirking. At least my incredibly funny self seems to have softened him.

He looks down, studying its content, then looks back up at me. His face turns displeased, undoing all my previous hard work to humour him.

I follow his gaze, looking at the table myself, and it dawns on me, 'No no no no!' I throw out in panic, 'Listen, Buck. . .'

'What could you possibly have to say-' he began and lowered his head, giving me a serious look, 'To get yourself out of this one?' referring to the table.

'I can think of a few things, I might have an ace in my sleeve.' I smirk. Metaphoricly speaking of course, my blouse does not have long sleeves.

He takes a firm step closer, a bemused look on his face, 'Ok Ok! It's not mine! It's not, mine.' I gesture to myself, then to the table in erratic motions. 'I'm an innocent bystander, I just sat on the couch. Never even touched the stuff.' I hold my hands up, palms out. As if it would stop him.

'Theres nothing innocent about you girl.' He tells me sternly, the corner of his lip tugging.

Stunned, there's a sudden flutter in my stumache.

Suddenly, the energy between us change. The tension grows and the look in his eyes turn hungry, like a hunter watching its prey.

'Pinky promise?' I ask, shrugging cheapishly.

He takes a few quick steps toward me, rounding the table. But I run to the end of the couch, making sure that the table is still between us. Butterflies surge through my body, giddy from excitement. This is the most fun I'd had all night. 'Buck, let's- lets be civil about this, alright? Let's just talk.' I giggle.

He chuckles, 'Oh, you think this is funny?'

Nodding, 'Kind of, yes. . .' I tease.

'We're far past talking.' He breathes, 'Had I been anyone else, had I not known your parents, you would've been in cuffs by now.'

My eyes turn mischievous, 'Whats stopping you?' I tilt my head, 'I assure you, I wouldn't mind.' And grin.

He chews the inside of his cheek, then charges, and I run, swivelling to avoid solo cups and various balloons on the floor. I hear his footsteps behind me, catching up. My agility is nothing compared to his raw muscle and speed, but I swerve into the kitchen, adrenaline kicking in. And manage to take cover behind the kitchen island.

Bucky grinds to a halt, slamming his palms into the counter, catching himself against it. Once again, im in safety. For a while at least.

'Youre gonna have to be faster than that.' I pant, grinning. He meets my eyes, pure animalistic tendencies behind them. The look on his face has me biting my lip, I couldn't wait for him to catch me. 'C'mon Chief.' I purr.

And somethings in his eyes ignite at the word, oh?

'Chief?' I test and he grunts, eyes glaring at me through his eyebrows. Naturally, I delve deeper, 'You feeling quite alright. . . Sir?'

He tilts his head with a jerk, then laughs 'You've done it now.' Those are warning words. Then he jumps, sliding over the counter.

'Holy shit!' I squeek as I take of running, narrowly avoiding his grasp. I run through the house with Bucky right on my heels, nothing but the the thrill of the chase keeping me going.

I run out by the backdoor, then stupidly enough, take a right. Into a garden, a fenced in garden. The high type of fence too. I regret my decision the second I see notice it, but its to late. Buckys steps slow behind me, and I slow to a stop myself as I come face to face with a dead-end. 'Oh, fuck me.' I breathe, absolutely exhausted.

'Famous last words, doll.' He cuckles between pants.

I turn around and smile through the pain, 'Ha ha! Funny guy. What. A funny. Guy.' I clench my teeth, sighing.

My eyes lock onto his frame, hands on his hips as he's catching his breath. Mesmerized I stare, men in uniform, huh? Im starting to see the appeal.

Slowly, he begins walking toward me, prowling like a tiger. He grabs hold of his belt, pulling it upward to adjust his pants.

God damn.

My uterus is aching, my entire body is aching. I would've drooled if I hadnt come to my senses, escaping. Right.

I make a break for it. In one quick motion, I turn around and jump. Grabbing hold of the upper ledge of the fence and pull myself up, my feet scrambling against the wood to find some sort of purchase. But im too slow, too focused. I didn't even hear him come up behind me, but I did feel his big hands on my waist.

He yanks me down and pushes me toward the fence, his body flush against my back. I gasp and he digs his fingertips into my waist, making sure I don't escape again. His touch makes me yearn for more, I want it deeper.

He levels his head with mine, leaning in close to my ear. Close enough to feel his hot breathing against the skin on my neck, 'I got you now.' He whispers, making my skin prickle with goosebumps and setting of a pulse deep below my stumache. But I wasn't willing to give up just yet. With my hands free, I pry his own from my waist and turn around, pushing him back by the chest.

Now. . . The intention was to push him hard enough to give me space to run past, but. . .

He barely budged, he grabbed my wrists and pushed me back against the fence, pinning my body between the wood and himself. Wrists in hand, he anchored my arms to my sides by grabbing onto the fabric of my skirt. Rouching it, he helt the flesh of my ass under his fingers.

I laugh nervously, 'You're not gonna tell mom and dad are you?'

He just chuckles, fuck im truly, in deep shit.

I try wriggling free from his grip, but he holds my wrists tighter, carefully slamming them into the fence above my head and leans against me. Leaving zero space for me to move, every curve of our bodies complete the others, I swear I can feel his bulge against my hip. He moves his face closer to mine, needing me to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. When I do, a self-satisfied smile covers his lips. His face inches from my own, we were basically sharing one breath as his lips barely brush over mine. 'You gonna be a good girl for me and behave?' He asks, breathing heavily.

I whine, he can't possibly turn me on more. 'Depends.' I say.

''Yeah?' He practically whimpers.

I close the distance between our lips, but he pulls back and smiles, teasing me. I meet his eyes and we look at eachother intently, as if entranced, I cant break contact.

He lets go of my wrists and traces his hands down my arms, all the way down to my hands. Chills run amock over my body, I close my eyes and lean in again, but suddenly-

I hear a clasp, then another and I can just feel him smirk against me. My eyes go wide and I realise, 'You didn't.' glaring at him.

'I did.' He laughs, 'What made you think you were in a position to negotiate?'

I look down and sure enough, cuffs bind my wrists together. Shocked, my mouth falls open. I didnt even feel him reach for them.

He backs up and grabs my arm, pulling me with him. 'Could you at least let me off around the corner from our house?' I ask as we make our way toward his car, he glaces down at me but doesnt answer, 'So they dont see me get dropped off in a cruiser, you know?' He opens the front door for me, and helps me inside, 'And maybe avoid talking to them for a few weeks, you'd really be doing me a favor, Buck.' And without a word, he closes the door and walks around to his side. Getting in and driving off.

The first portion of the ride is silent, he'd done what he had to, to catch me. Damn.

Luckily for me though, the party was a long way from home. Meaning I have some time to devise a plan.

I look at my cuffs, carefully observing them. Hmm. . . I yank my hands apart, trying the strength of the schackles, hoping the sound would gather his attention.

This was a game of chance, a game of seduction and persuasion.

Gently, I tickle the skin on my upper knee, 'I really didnt do any drugs y'know.' tracing back and forth with my fingertips, acting somber. Then lay my hand flat against my thigh, squeezing it absentmindedly. Continuing with rubbing small, firm circles with my index finger into my skin and turn to look out of the window.

Bucky clears his throat. The reaction I was looking for, perfect.

I spread my legs slightly, letting my hands slide down either side of my thigh. Clasping them together underneath and slide them up along my thigh. The skirt catching on my cuffs, revealing more and more of my-

-his hand flies to my thigh, hooking the cuff over his thumb and squeezing my flesh. Keeping me from showing anything more. Fuck, my core is throbbing from that alone.

'Buck?' I ask innocently.

'Dont' he croaks, voice sounding pained.

'Sorry-' I pause, glancing at him carefully. His eyes are fixed sternly on the road, 'We could talk about this like adults you know, make a deal.' He squeezes my thigh harder, I lift one hand with the restricted movements of my cuffs and caress his fingertips, 'A real good deal, benefitial for the both of us' I suggest.

'You talk too much for your own good, girl.'

'I'm not quite sure what you mean, Sir?. .' I bite my lip as he looks over at me, meeting my eyes through my lashes. 'You wouldn't tell on me to my parents, would you?' I ask, giving him my best puppy eyes.

He looks away, sitting silently until the next exit comes up. He flashes his indicators and turn off the main road, parking in an empty clearing.

'You want a deal, doll?' He asks, looking straight ahead. Sliding the cuffs off his thumb as his hand travel downward, fingertips sliding under my skirt, knuckles brushing over my clothed clit. Lust flashes through my nerves, and I gasp.

'A deal, or you. Both sound good to me.' I whisper, on the edge of my seat. Eagerly awaiting his answer, waiting for him.

He looks back at me, meeting my eyes with a fiendish grin, 'Then put that big mouth of yours to use.' He orders.

Nodding enthusatically, I lean over. Unbuckling his belt and zip down his pants, I reach into his boxers and fuuuuck, my hands barely fit around him. I pull him out and pull my hands to my mouth, wetting my fingers before returning them. One hand carefully stroking small circles around his tip, while the other strokes him up and down in cylindrical motions along his shaft.

The chief of police bites his lip, muffling a whimper as I move faster, 'Uhh- mmm. .' He hums, 'Yes- yes, doll. Fuck. .' He stutters.

Such a strong man crumbling under the touch of a woman, it was turning me on like nothing ever has, the power I hold is surprising.

His fingers move under my panties and slide along my slit, making it my turn to moan. I Buck my hips to give him better access, and he dips his fingers inside me. Pumping them slowly as he's getting them wet, then slides up to my clit, circling around it. 'Holy-' I gasp, 'Shit.'

We buck our hips to the others touch, leaning against the other, shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple. Moaning breathely. Our lips finally meeting in a needy kiss, tounges moving with the rhythm of our bodies. 'Please, doll. Be a good girl.' He begs between our lips.

Fuck me, that heartbeat in my utherus spread in pulses through out my entire body.

I grin and pull back. Leaning over, I carefully lick the leaking cum off his tip clean, then take him in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his head, licking greedily. Tasting the salt of him. I push deeper, sucking his length into my mouth. The sloppy sounds of saliva and lips were vulgar inte the most intoxicating way. His hand continues massaging my clit while the other snakes into my hair, grabbing a fistful and aiding my movements. Helping me set merciless pace.

Bucky groans, our strokes growing in greed as we close in on our releases. He shoves two big fingers into my core, curling at just the right spot. Pleasure surge through me, leaving me to stuff my throat with his member, muffling a scream as I topple over the edge. I feel him come right after, my mouth filling with his seed and hearing his moan of completion. The bitterness of salt waa overwhelming to my tastebuds, I swallow what I can and pull myself off.

Leaving a sloppy mess around my mouth, I sit back and smile. Breathing heavily as I regain my strength, Bucky looks at me and laughs, 'You got something right here.' gesturing circles around his mouth, reffering to mine. I wide my mouth clean with my thumb and suck it off, Bucky smiles proudly at the sight. Then brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them.

Heat ignites within me once again.

Bucky cups my face with one hand and pulls me into a kiss. The tastes of eachother mixing, I can't quite tell what is what. But it's wonderful. Bucky pulls free and looks at me, I give him a hazy, expectant look. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and slides out of the car, walking around to my side. I furrow my eyebrows as he helps me out of the passenger seat. He pulls me to the hood of the car, pushing himself against me until the back of my legs hit the grill. He leans in and whispers against my ear, 'Still need to punish ya.' He drawls, a shiver running through my spine.

'Im begging you Chief.' I look at him thtough hooded, lustfilled eyes, 'Please punish me.' I groan, smiling.

His dick twitched at the word, making him close his eyes to keep his composure. Then suddenly bends down and finds purchase under my knees. In one swift motion, he pulls, and I fall back onto the hood, 'Wanting it defeats the purpose, doll.' He growls, then opens his eyes. But the sight before him makes him unravel.

Upperbody bent to the side in an effort to prop myself up on my forearms, thanks to my cuffs. Skirt over my hips and legs spread, core exposed and ready for him.

'Do you worst, please. Sir. . .' I whisper and grin.

His eyes snap to mine, and that "You're in for it now.' Expression returns, 'Fuckin brat.' He spits.

Then, he kneels. He fuckin kneels. A shiver runs up my spine a the sight, 'Some punishment, huh?' I ask, but he only smirks. Hooking my legs over his shoulders, and grabbing each thigh to keep them spread, then, without warning, he dives in.

I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming, pulses of pleasure run through me like electric currents. He pushes his tongue inside me, feverishly licking at my juices, exploring my walls, burrying his face in my cunt. Nose pushing up against my clit, making my back arch deliciously. 'That all you can do?' I tease, grinding my hips against his nose, desperate to get some friction. But his eyes meet mine, glaring as he moves his hands to my hips, holding me steady.

He pulls back for a second, just to spit on my cunt, then hastily returning, chasing my clit. I gasp, burrying my cuffed hands in his hair, pulling him closer as I want more. Making him moan against me, his voice vibrating against my clit. My sight blurs from the pleasure, a knot tightening inside me 'More.' I beg, 'So close.'

His tongue slide out of me, and I whine. But he licks a stipe up my cunt and then attatches at my clit, sucking and nipping at my sensitivity. My body jolts, and I shut my eyes. 'You gonna cum?' He asks, voice muffled.

I can barely answer, pleasure overwhelming me as white specks my vision, 'Ye- yeah. . ' I moan, 'So close, ju- just like th-' I begin, about to reach my climax again, but suddenly.

He let's go, pushing himself off of my clit with on last lick and sits back on his heels, watching my unravel.

'No, please, Buck.' I squrim, whining at the loss of him. I try to pull him back, but he doesn't budge. 'I'm begging, please, please.' I whimper, closing my legs and pushing them together, moving my hips for any sort of friction to finish what he started.

'Mouthy brats dont get to cum.' He chuckles and grab my knees to pull them apart. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the knot loosens again. In a last desperate effort, I pull my hands from his hair, burrying two fingers in me while my thumb rubs my clit. Just for a second, that exctatic feeling returns, blissful sparks ignite, until- he pushes his body between my legs to keep my thighs in place and grab my wrists, ripping them from my cunt. Then laughs, he laughs.

'Not funny.' I whimper.

'It is. . . Im not done even done yet.' He says, face glistening with my juices.

I fall back against the hood groaning, as the ache in my core reaches my bones. 'I need you so bad.' I whisper.

'What was that?' He asks.

'I need you. Buck please.' I whimper.

'Can't quite hear you, doll.' He mocks, hands squeezing tighter around my wrists.

'I fuckin need you inside me, ok?' I almost shout, 'Fuck me, hard. I'm begging, jus- just need you in me.'

'Yeah?' He laughs, standing up. Hooking his hands under my knees and slide me closer to him. His hand trace my skin to my waist, getting a tight grib. Then, in one smooth motion, he flips me to my stumache.

I can't help but gasp, 'Think you can act like a brat all night, and get away with it?' He asks, smaking my ass once. I yelp, the sting making my eyes water in the most delicious way. He lines himself up with my entrance, pushing on it slightly. His tip breeching.

'Please.' I whimper, muttering a string of curses. And without warning, he shoves himself inside. Again, I bite my cheek. Pleasure rolls through me, electrocuting every nerve. He grabs my hips, sinking his fingertips deep into my skin. Silently, I beg for them to leave bruises. Theres nothing hotter than a souvenir to remember him by.

He sets a hard pace, thrusting deeply. Pulling back almost all the way before forcefully pushing himself inside again, over and over. My brain doesnt function, I can't form words, all I can do is moan. The sound of slapping skin perfectly lewd in my ear. 'Harder Buck.' I request.

He leans down, grabbing my throat and pulling me flush against his chest, pushing his nose into my cheek, 'Yeah? This not enough for you?' He asks, grunting in my ear.

'Not enough, more.' I mewl.

His hand tightens his grip around my throat, cutting off just enough air to give me a dizzying euphoria. His other hands come down on my ass again, smacking hard as he thrusts deeper. Then re-grips your hip, using it to push and pull your, making our bodies come together even harder, 'Greedy girl, cant fuckn get enough huh?' He groans between breaths, hot against your skin.

I shake my head, the only answer I can manage as I feel my walls twitching, closing around him. He can feel it too, his hips stutter, throwing his thrusts of balance. He bites my ear, lightly tugging on it before kissing my cheek gently, then kissing down my neck.

A stark contrast to the rest of his movements, it's enough to make my head spin. It's almost too much. I feel the blinding pleasure threatening to spill inside me, 'You wanna cum girl?' He asks against the crook of my neck. I nod my head enthusiastically. 'Words doll, use your words.' He breathes.

'Ye- Yes, please.' I manage, 'Wanna cum so fucking bad, Chief.'

He grunts, hand slipping from my throat to my breasts, working them roughly. Palming, squeezing, pinching 'C'mon, cum for me doll.' He says between pants and immidietly, I topple over the edge. Pleasure blinding me as he continues thrusting, continues to assault my breasts. My body begins spasming, and my knees go week, 'Bucky. . . Fuck-' I groan, but he holds me up. All my senses feel like they're about to burst as he prolongs my orgasm, stretching it out in an exhuastingly wonderful way. He bites down on my shoulder, squeezing my breasts, muffled grunts escaping him as his own body spasms and his thrusts halt, his member finally filling me with seed.

He collapses on top of me as we catch our breaths, im so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

I close my eyes for a second, but doesnt register Bucky pushing himself off of me, or him gathering me in his arms and laying me in the backseat. I don't feel him wrap his jacket around me, or the ride home.

But I do rouse from my sleep as Bucky carries me into my room and lays me down in my bed, he kisses me on the forehead, 'Hey doll.' He whispers, a soft smile on his lips.

I panic slightly as I realise that I'm home, 'Mom n' dad?' I ask anxiously.

'I made a good excuse, don't worry.' He strokes some hair from my face, 'Sleep. You need it. I'll go easier on you next time.' He promises.

'Next time?' I ask, a tired smile covering my face.

'Next time.' He assures, and you drift back to sleep. He stands up and walks to the doorway, silently watching you with admiring eyes as he carefully closes the door.

He tells your parents a made up backstory and they understand, happy to see him. They invite him to dinner next weekend and he happily accepts, he'd do anything to see you again.

He thinks about you the entire car ride home, in the shower as he beats himself off and in the morning as he wakes up with a hard on from dreams off you clenching around him.

He can do nothing but count the days until he sees you again, guranteeing himself it will be a memorable occasion.

[motherjoel]

arms tonite (joel miller/reader)

summary: basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

a/n: yawlllllll it has been a MINUTE but i am back for some tlou cause i just really wanted to write for these characters i love so very much. i apologize if the timing of their travel is fucked, i truly have no concept of geography so we can ignore that.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: just general tlou gore, nothin too bad

-

-

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. But as you lay here, Joel's hands soaked in your blood as he attempted to stop it from pulsating out of your abdomen, you knew it was love that you were feeling. It was supposed to be simple. After your brief stay in Jackson, the two of you were supposed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Yet, nothing seemed to be simple these days, especially not around this girl.

In the amount of time the three of you had spent together, you developed an unbreakable bond. Ellie became a sort of surrogate sister to you- you’d lost your family when you were just a kid during the outbreak and you never had the chance to become a big sister. At least not for long. And then there was Joel. You weren’t quite sure what he meant to you yet, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t die for him. For both of them, really- a life without them wasn’t worth living. Of course, you never planned on telling them that.

The day started fairly nice- with Joel allowing Ellie to make her own decision about who would be taking her to the fireflies. Sure, you and Ellie would be fine with Tommy, but Joel had failed to consider the bond the three of you shared when making this decision. He was thinking of only himself and his fear- this is what you had told him last night after his fight with Ellie.

“What the hell was that?” you asked him after he stormed out of Ellie’s temporary room. 

“It was nothin’. Doesn’t concern you,” he replied, brushing past you as he made his way to the couch where he decided to set up camp for the night. 

“Um, it sure as hell does concern me, Joel. Are you seriously going to abandon us? After everything we’ve been through, after how much that girl trusts you, Joel!” you raised your voice a bit, trying to keep yourself from alerting Ellie upstairs. Those words stung him a bit. He didn’t see it as abandonment- he saw it as protection. After everything you went through together, he never once put himself first.

“She doesn’t know a thing about what this means,” Joel turned to you. “She- she’s just a kid, she-” he stopped himself, trying to gather himself. “I can’t bring her. I’m not capable, I’m slowin’ down and I just can’t. Do. It,” he exhaled, dropping himself onto the couch. 

“Wow,” you replied, softly sitting next to him. “You’re really underestimating yourself,” you sighed, Joel, lifting his face to look at you. “I mean, not only yourself but me, Joel. In case you’d forgotten, I’ve gotten myself through some tough shit. And Ellie? Man, she's the toughest kid I’ve ever met. Hell, she's one of the toughest people I’ve ever met,” you said, observing Joel’s worn face. “I mean… don't you think she at least deserves a choice?” you asked, hoping to convince Joel to come to his senses and realize who he was.

“I’ll take the couch. Bedrooms down the hall,” he grumbled before turning his back to you and lying down. There was nothing left you could say at this point, so you decided to spare yourself and make your way to the bedroom. The bed was pretty big. It could’ve fit two people.

The moment you saw Joel in the stables the next morning, you could feel your heart soar. Before he said a word, you knew he had made the right decision. The three of you squeezed onto the horse, Ellie sandwiched in the middle, and you were off. You and Joel sat in peaceful silence for a while, occasionally responding to Ellie’s rambling to show you were listening. Before you knew it, you were arriving at the so-called firefly base. 

“What the fu-” you started.

“Holy shit! Are those monkeys?” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the crowd of animals before you.

“Must be from the old labs,” Joel muttered, a hint of interest in his voice

“Look at them go!” you giggled.

“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked the two of you. 

“First time seein' a monkey,” you replied in unison, both awestruck. A smile crept onto Joel's face at this- the togetherness he felt in rare moments like this is what kept him going. 

You soon came across the fireflies symbol painted on a couple of signs, but no guards appeared nearby. You all dismounted the horse before making your way inside, guns drawn. You in the back, Joel in the front, and Ellie sandwiched between yet again. The building you came across was abandoned from the looks of it, with papers scattered about. 

“They just left,” Joel said, coming across a packing list among the scattered supplies. You suddenly heard a clang from another room, drawing your attention.

“Maybe not all of them,” you replied as the three of you carefully moved towards the sound. Your heart picked up its pace- whatever was in that room couldn’t be a firefly. Maybe a raider, you thought, which didn’t help your anxieties. Joel put a finger to his lips before opening the door, signaling for your silence. Relief rushed through you as you saw the source of the noise was just a few stray monkeys. It was only moments later that you heard voices- voices that certainly didn’t come from an animal. Peering out the window, the three of you saw a group of men, presumably raiders.

“Shit,” you murmured, instinctively grabbing Ellie’s arm.

“Out the back,” said Joel, leading the way for the three of you to make your escape. You ducked behind some sandbags for a moment before making your break to the horse. As Joel untied the horse, you heard footsteps quickly making their way over to you.

“Joel!” Ellie screamed as the man swung his bat at his head, hitting it on a tree and breaking it in two. While Joel dodged his attack you jumped on the man and banged him into the tree behind him before he knocked you back on your ass, banging your head on the ground. You’ve had your fair share of concussions, and you knew that's exactly what just happened to you. Joel quickly recovered from the first attack before grabbing the man, a wave of anger in his eyes as you’ve never seen before. His arm tightened around the man's throat, unrelenting in its strength. Struggle as he may, it wasn’t long before his neck was snapped. You remain on the ground, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look at Ellie, shakily holding her gun. Her eyes darken as they shift down to your stomach. Your eyes follow hers and you finally see what she’s looking at. When the man hit the bat into the tree, it must've snapped in half. One half was on the ground a few feet away from you, while, unfortunately, the other half was buried in your stomach.

“Shit,” Ellie said, lowering her gun and walking over to you. Your hand reached down, adrenaline still pumping through your body, and you instinctively pulled the wooden piece out of your abdomen. You barely even felt it. Joel was silent the entire time, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. You threw it aside before noticing three more men coming your way. As fast as possible, Joel hiked himself up onto the horse and grabbed you while Ellie pushed from the ground before pulling herself up, you now sitting between the two. Joel didn’t let himself focus on the anxiety in his chest that blurred his vision- he needed to get you both to safety.

“Fuck,” you sighed, adrenaline wearing off a bit and pain seeping in. 

“Go!” Ellie yelled to Joel as you began to move. She grabbed her gun and shot backward at the men- she didn’t have the best aim, but it certainly deterred them from advancing anymore. Ellie kept peering over her shoulder, on high alert. If you weren’t putting all of your focus on staying conscious, you’d have noticed her slight tremble. You would have noticed Joel's body tense when your breathing slowed, his occasional glance over his shoulder. His erratic heartbeat as he tried to keep you talking.

“We’re gonna get back to Jackson and we’re gonna get some help,” Joel said over his shoulder. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice- he was excellent at hiding how he truly feels. 

“No,” you uttered, using all of your strength.

“Sorry, no?” Joel questioned.

“Get her to the fireflies,” you whispered before your vision began to blur. Your lifeless body crumpled off the horse, Ellie attempted to hold on but it all happened too fast. The cold snow was stained red, the warm blood leaving your body melting the snow directly beneath you. Joel and Ellie quickly hopped down, one on each side of you. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ellie panicked, hands shakily reaching towards your abdomen. 

“Ellie,” Joel said, voice laced with panic. He motioned for her to grab his pack while he placed his hands onto the wound, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He had never felt so helpless in his life- at least, not since Sarah. That same shuddered breathing coming from a person he loves- he couldn’t bear it.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do,” she asked. Joel continued to silently work on packing your wound with an extra flannel he had in his bag.

“It’s ok,” you croaked. They immediately turned to you on the ground, almost stopping in their tracks. “Just help me to that house,” you said, motioning towards a house about 50 yards away. You were struggling to breathe under the pressure of Joel’s hands on your wound- it almost seemed useless, you were still losing blood like crazy. Joel tied the flannel around your waist to try to keep the blood from seeping out. Once he decided you were situated, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the house. When you arrived, they gently placed you at the entrance, Ellie staying with you while Joel made sure the house was clear. He returned to help you inside, lying you on an old mattress. You let out a small laugh as you got situated.

“What?” Joel asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. How could you be laughing right now?

“Don’tcha think it's kinda cute?” you asked as he fussed with your bandages.

“What’s that?” he asked gruffly, not exactly in the mood for your attitude.

“Oh, just that I might be dying in your arms tonight. I dunno, feels like a movie,” you said, your pale lips curling into a smile. He gave you a look, pausing briefly to peer into your eyes. You wordlessly pleaded with him to lighten the mood a bit, for Ellie’s sake. He didn't say a word.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do?” Ellie repeated herself in her panic.

“It’s ok. You guys go. Now,” you said. Joel's eyebrows furrowed at this. “You leave, go north. Go to Tommy.”

“Um, the fuck?” Ellie asked. “I don’t know what you think this is but we're not leaving,” Ellie said, frustration creeping into her voice. She looked hurt by this, and it broke your heart. Were you doing the same thing Joel had done just last night?

“The kids right,” Joel said as you turned to look at him. “You’re either comin' with us or we're all campin’ here for the night. No in-between” Joel finished. You pleaded to him with your eyes again, begging him to just give up on you. The two of them would be fine, you knew it. But you didn’t know the emotional toll it would have taken on the stubborn man in front of you. He was stubborn, but so were you. Only you didn’t get a chance to prove just how stubborn you could be before you couldn’t fight the darkness that crept into your vision. 

-

You woke with a start the next morning. You often woke in a panic these days, but the feeling was only further cemented when you realized you didn’t quite recognize your surroundings. The only thing you could recognize was Joel’s eyes on you, which brought you some semblance of comfort. When he noticed you awake, he rushed to your side. As much as you could imagine Joel to “rush.”

“Hey, you uh, awake. You’re awake,” he said softly, trying not to wake Ellie asleep in the corner of the same dilapidated room you’d been in for a while now. 

“It would appear so,” you replied, attempting to sit up a bit.

“Hey, hey, relax,” he put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to lay back down. “Your infections bad. We managed to trade for some penicillin but it's not gonna be enough. We gotta figure out how to get you back to Jackson,” Joel said, lightly lifting your shirt to look at the wound.

 You cursed the heat rising to your face as Joel's fingers brushed your bare skin. You’d never been intimate like this before, though this was barely intimacy. He hadn’t ever touched your skin like this- with such delicacy. You were fragile to him at this moment, and you needed to be handled with care. You hated being a burden, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.

You were too busy focusing on your own reaction to this gesture to notice Joels. His hands shook as he cared for your wound, wincing as he saw that it really wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t know what this meant- he wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew this wasn’t good. 

You were in and out of sleep throughout the next day or two, letting the dull, throbbing pain lull you into sleep. It hurt to watch Joel and Ellie worry about you, especially because there was nothing you could do to help. Your days felt numbered- the amount of penicillin was scarce and you weren’t feeling any better. You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open, much less speak. 

“Joel,” you managed to croak- you couldn’t even spare the energy to seethe at the pain pulsating throughout your body.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, kneeling next to you. He only called you sweetheart when he needed something- what did he need from you now? To live? “Whatcha need?”

“You’re special, you know that?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“And why is that?” he asked, wiping the tear.

“You really know how to make a girl fall in love,” you smiled- this isn’t something you ever planned on telling him, but as you lie there, vision blurring around the edges as the darkness caved in on you, there was nothing else you wanted to say.

Joel felt panic consume him when your eyes closed.

“Hey, hey darlin’, wake up for me, okay?” he pleaded. Ellie stalked over, panic heating her chest. “Ellie, grab her legs,” Joel said. It was like he was kicked into a new gear- he was going to do whatever it took to keep you with him.

-

You didn’t know where you were. The walls were unfamiliar and white- stark and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the couch in the corner of the room, occupied by your two favorite people. Joel sat upright, arms crossed and eyes closed. His brows were furrowed like he was having some sort of nightmare. Ellie’s expression mirrored his, as she lay on her side with her head resting on his leg, arms curled into her chest. Your heart warmed at the sight- he was becoming a father figure to her, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You tried to sit up, failing immediately as pain shot through your body. You winced, perhaps a little too loud, as Joel’s eyes shot open. Ellie remained in a deep sleep on his lap.

“You’re up,” he acknowledged, almost like it was too good to be true. He carefully shifted his body so he could move Ellie from his lap and onto the couch before he stood to walk towards you. “She hasn’t gotten much sleep, be best not to wake her,” he said, leaning down to brush a hair from her face. Seeing him be this gentle with her melted your heart. 

“How, um, how long was I out?” you asked, lifting the sheets to see your wound. It was covered and clean, but you knew it was there from the way it throbbed.

“About a week. Scared the shit out of… the kid,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He bit back what he truly wanted to say- you scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to admit that you had that much of an impact on him. The second he lets others affect his life is the second he gets weak. There wasn’t a place for vulnerability in this world. “It was, a, uh, miracle that you lived.”

“Oh yeah?” your eyebrows raised. “Shit. I’m sorry for worrying… her,” you glanced at Ellie again as she snuggled into the couch. “How did I, um how did you guys get me here?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but you tried to remain strong.

“We, uh, we gotcha back on the horse. Ellie led the way, I made sure you were safe, I mean, I just made sure you didn’t fall,” he replied, looking at his feet. “Took us awhile to get back, I… I didn't think you were gonna make it,” he replied, coughing to cover up the break in his voice. He was still in disbelief that you even woke up.

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” you laughed weakly. Then it was silent for a few moments, the two of you stewing in your thoughts. “You know, I think if it had been anybody else with me, I would’ve just died,” you remarked. Joel shook his head.

“Well, that’s not true. You’re strong” he said quietly.

“Well, yeah, sure I’m strong. But I can choose not to be. I honestly would’ve been fine to die if it was in your arms. But I couldn’t do that to you. Not… not again,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… you’re it for me, Joel. You and Ellie- you guys are it. And if I can’t have you guys, well, let's just say I wouldn’t mind staying asleep,” you confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“Ahem…” you heard Ellie clear her throat from her position on the couch. “Sorry, I have a habit of snooping, but holy shit you’re awake!” she squealed, bouncing over to you and plopping herself onto you in a hug. She knocked the wind out of you, and you may have cared if you weren’t so happy to see her.

“Hey, hey, easy on her now,” Joel said, pulling Ellie back from you a bit. He was still quiet, processing what you had just said to him.

“Ahhh, my sweet Ellie girl, how I missed you so,” you smiled, pinching her cheeks.

“Bullshit, you were definitely just dreaming about Joel the whole time. Must’ve been nice, sleeping that long,” she laughed. You ignore the first part of her sentence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty well rested,” you smiled, ruffling her hair and pulling her into another hug.

“I’m gonna go get someone, a nurse,” Ellie excused herself from the room, leaving you with Joel yet again.

“I’m sorry if that was too mu-” you started before Joel cut you off.

“No, no, don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he said softly. It wasn’t a whisper- it was just soft. He’d been so soft with you. “I… I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” he looked down at his shoes.

“Oh, uh, you do?” you blushed. You felt so childish, like you were admitting you had a crush on him, but it was more than that. It was a partnership, a dependency- a loyalty to one another that didn’t need a label. Only, you couldn’t hide the way you felt anymore.

“Gosh, I can’t even tell you how it felt to see you like that. It should’ve been me, you know,” he said, disappointment evident on his features.

“Um, no, it shouldn’t have. Besides, how would we have gotten your big ass back to Jackson?” you giggled, grabbing his hand. His expression changed then as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Joel, what does this mean?” you asked.

He chose not to respond with words- they were never his strong suit. Without a word, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. It was soft and it was sweet and it was like nothing you had ever experienced before- not from someone you loved. You reciprocated, weaving a hand into his hair to pull him closer.

“Yeah, they’re just in here-woahhhhhhh!” Ellie yelled, giggling and running out of the room. Joel quickly pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“That little shit,” he sighed.

“Well, she was gonna have to find out somehow,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles.

[secretlysamcro]

Kuttes & Bruises 🐦‍⬛

Female reader x Jax Teller

💀 - DV! talk of DV, Violence, Swearing, SMUT SMUT SMUT: If you’re under the age of 18, easily offended or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request:

“Hello, I have an idea. I was thinking that the reader at first is in an abusive relationship and her boyfriend makes a mistake of trying to hit her public. Jax who was parked nearby, comes to the aid of reader. Jax offers reader to live with him as a roommate till she can get on her feet and she agrees. During that time reader gets a new job and Jax develops feelings for her. One day she tells Jax that she made enough money to move out. This makes Jax heart break little and He tell her to staying with him along with his feelings”

Back story:

For two long years, you found yourself trapped in this relationship with your boyfriend. Displaying the perfect relationship, yet behind closed doors your boyfriend’s actions revealed a violent side. Leaving your body marked with cuts and bruises that you desperately concealed from the world. However, unbeknownst to the both of you, today was the last day he’d ever lay hands on you again.

Jax listens closely to the escalating exchange between yourself and your boyfriend, his senses on high alert. His Harley is parked just a few spaces away. Close enough for him to catch the heated conversation between you both. Every word, every tone and every subtle change in your voice and demeanour is observed by Jax as he keeps a watchful eye on the unfolding scene.

You find yourself trapped in the passenger seat beside your boyfriend, a barrage of accusations being thrown and shouted at you as he falsely accuses you of looking at other men.

“He let me pass, I just said thank you” You respond, your voice very monotone.

The windows are down, the volume of his voice not being controlled in the slightest. No doubt in your mind that anyone in close proximity can hear this turbulent exchange.

As your boyfriend’s words fade into a background noise, you feel the boiling anger within you reaching its breaking point. The constant accusations, the verbal assaults, the physical assaults, every little thing within your relationship has pushed you to the edge and you can feel yourself about to erupt.

His voice thunders through your mental fog, snapping you back to reality. “Are you fucking listening to me?” he says, his tone harsh and demanding attention. You find yourself reconnecting to the present moment.

“If you weren’t so fucking insecure, maybe you-“ your seethed words were immediately cut off. The sudden shock of the impact sets your head spinning, the ringing in your ears growing louder as you register the pain that your boyfriend had conflicted, once again.

In that exact moment, Jax had witnessed it all. He saw how hard your boyfriend’s hand connected with your face. It caused him to feel an intense boiling anger, surging through each and every vein in his body. Without any hesitation, he jumps off his bike with a fierce determination to defend you.

Before you’re able to react, the drivers side door is swung open and your boyfriend is pulled out onto the sidewalk by a blur of movement. Loud thuds and punches fill the air as the unknown man strikes him from various angles. The sounds of your boyfriends pained grunts and cries for help filling your ears, a dark sense of satisfaction begins to creep over you.

Jax stops immediately as he becomes aware of your presence, hovering just above him. He lifts his free hand to sweep back the unruly strands of hair that have fallen across his face, as he maintains a firm hold on your boyfriend with the other hand. “You okay?” Is all he can manage to say right now, the concern for your well being hanging in the air.

You move your head side to side, in a slow defeated way as you silently confirm to Jax that you’re far from okay. Your boyfriend, who is still under Jax’s weight witnesses this. “Stupid bitch” he says, spitting out flecks of blood that stain his mouth.

He glances down and notices the patches on Jax’s vest, realising the unpredictable situation that he’s in. He then manages to break free, in a desperate bid to escape he suddenly frees himself from Jax’s grasp, pushing him away, only to make a frantic escape to the car. He swiftly reverses, narrowly avoiding hitting you and Jax in the process before he accelerates away. Jax with his quick reflexes, quickly pulls you out of harms way causing you to both end up sprawled on the floor together.

As Jax rises to his feet, he offers a helping hand to ensure you find your balance as well. “What’s your name darlin’?” He questions, his voice carries a hint of concern and also warmth as he attempts to soothe your unsettled nerves.

"Y/N" you respond. He smiles warmly as he leads you to a nearby bench, moving with calm and purpose. He tells you that his name is Jackson, but everyone calls him Jax. "Does he always treat you that way?" Jax questions as he attempts to untangle the history of your relationship. You nod slowly, feeling the gravity of your situation resting heavy between you as you sit down next to each other. He shakes his head in disbelief at your answer and you can almost see the anger physically building on his face. It makes you wonder why he is so concerned about you, someone he doesn't even know.

The tears you were managing to hold back, creep out silently as you see the reaction Jax had. You do your best to hide the tears that are betraying your usual strong facade.

"He does this a lot?" Jax says, looking at you intently, waiting for your answer. You nod again, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. He shakes his head harder this time, the anger flickering across his face as he mutters cursed about your boyfriend under his breath, his frustration evident. Jax glances down at his bloody and bruised hands, twisting his 'SO' ring nervously. You cant help but feel a twinge of guilt for the injuries he has sustained because of yourself and your boyfriend.

"Thanks for that..." you manage to mutter, paired with a small smile despite the pain. He smirks back, a slight glint of mischief in his eyes. "Don't thank me... I should have done a lot more than throw a few punches" he replies, wiping his hands on his jeans as he slowly rises to his feet. It feels a bit strange of him to ask, but with your jerk of a boyfriend having abandoned you, he decided to extend an offer. "I can give you a ride home... you know, if you need one?” he suggests, hoping you'll accept.

"I, um... no, I cant... I don't want to go home yet. I don't want to see him... ever" you reply, your voice confident that this will be the last time. "You can drop me to a nearby motel though... if you don't mind?" you add, not wanting to turn down Jax's offer of help.

Immediately, Jax's expression shifts to one of concern. "A motel? are you sure..." he asks, clearly uneasy with the thought of you being alone in a rundown motel, especially in the shaken state that you're currently in.

"Look, I err... I have a spare room at my clubhouse, you're more than welcome to stay there for a few nights, you know to get yourself back on your feet, figure out your next move, or whatever" he offers, aware that it might come off as a bit forward since you've just met.

He catches the small flicker of wariness in your eyes and laughs softly, the sound easing the tension that currently hangs in the air. "Don't worry," he says, as a reassuring grin spreads across his face. He begins to tell you about the motorcycle club that he leads. You can tell how passionate he is about it with the way he speaks. "You'll be safe there, no matter what" he assures you.

"Okay" You agree, a flutter of nervousness settles in yours stomach, but the thought of returning to your abusive (now ex) boyfriend sends a cold shiver down your spine. The promise of safety sounding too tempting to turn down.

The moment you agree to stay at the clubhouse, you can see a tiny spark of excitement light up Jax's eyes. Jax feels a sense of relief as he knows you wont be heading back into harms way. "Alright, just give me a second" he says, pulling out his phone. "Just need to make a quick call, then we'll head out" The confidence in his voice, reassures you, making this small leap into the unknown feel a little less daunting.

The line picks up, and Jax starts talking straight away. "Yeah, Mom, i need you to tidy up the dorm a little, okay?" He rolls his eyes like a teenager being scorned. "Jesus christ Mom... can you just do it... please?" His voice carries an assertive edge, clearly used to navigating these sorts of conversations. "Im just helping out someon-... a friend.... Alright, ok, thanks mom" He hangs up.

[5 months later]

"Jax!" you shout, racing down the stairs from Jax's spare room, which you now call your room. "I got the job!" you shout again, even louder.

In the kitchen, Jax freezes, the carton of orange juice halfway to his lips. His eyes widen in surprise, and then a grin stretches across his face as he hears your good news. "Ahh, Darlin', I knew you would!" he calls out to you, rising to meet you as you rush into the kitchen. Before you even make it fully into the kitchen, Jax wraps you in a comforting embrace, a wave of pride within him. His heart flutters slightly as you squeeze him tighter, unaware that the same butterflies are dancing in your stomach too.

You settle into your chair at the kitchen table, with Jax taking a seat across from you. You chat about your upcoming job, discussing the role, the hours you'll be doing and more. "...and once I save up, I’m gonna start looking for my own place" You laugh slightly as you look up at Jax "finally get out of your way..." Your words land on him like a ton of bricks. "you're not in the way" Jax reassures you, his usually steady voice carrying a trace of worry.

Your stay in the clubhouse dorm was short lived - just under two weeks. Jax had introduced you to most of the guys and some of his family, and you fit right in, getting along with everyone, especially Jax's mom, Gemma, which was a rare occurrence.

In fact, it was actually Gemma who suggested you move in with Jax. She had caught the whispers among some other club members, who were frustrated that they could no longer use the dorm to hide the nights they shared with the crow eaters from their wives.

Gemma also noticed how much calmer Jax seemed with you around. Though she didn't know you well, he had shared some details of the circumstances in which you both met, and Gemma, having walked many paths in her own life, understood your situation and therefor felt a connection to you.

Once you agreed, you provided Jax with the address of the house you used to share with your ex. He took Happy along, and together they gathered your things. Happy, living up to his name, helped Jax to give your ex more than just a mild goodbye...let’s just say he wont ever be able to put his hands on another woman again and Happy has gained a new smiley face tattoo.

The first few days living with Jax were a bit awkward as you both navigated each other’s routines but by the end of the first week, everything fell into place. From the outside, it would be hard to believe you were just two strangers, it was as if you had known each other for a very long time.

Jax furrows his brows, wanting to make sure you understand exactly what he is saying. "Seriously y/n, You kind of ground me…I’m a better person with you around" he admits, aware of how vulnerable he sounds in this moment. You tilt your head slightly, drawn in by the sincerity in his voice. A small smile tugs at your lips, mirroring the familiar smirk that Jax also has.

"You know I could never thank you enough for everything you've done for me... but I've got to get back on my own two feet..." Jax sits up straighter in his chair, a look of discomfort crossing his face at the thought of you moving out.

Though the smirk lingers on your lips, your voice takes on a more serious tone. “You can’t expect me to stay here forever.” Without missing a beat, Jax replies, his stance unmoved. “But what if that’s what I want?”

“What do you mean?” You murmur, wondering if this conversation is steering in the direction of which you desire. His words echo again, “what if I don’t want you to leave?” This time, he sounds more confident. His tone assertive as if he knows exactly what he wants.

“Well… then I’d ask you why” you respond, maintaining your composure but sounding curious at the same time, as you stand up from your chair and lean against the kitchen counter, now closer to Jax.

As he turns to face you, a coy smile plays on his lips. “Then I’d have to confess a few things” The air thickening with anticipation.

You can feel your eagerness growing as you chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiously waiting to hear these unspoken confessions. “Oh really?” You tease, “Things like?” The words leaving your lips, a slight touch of neediness.

Jax rises from his seat, his towering frame overshadowing you. He takes a step closer, the heat between you growing more intense as the seconds pass. “Like this” he says, his voice deep and low as he leans in closer, leaving a kiss on your exposed neck.

He pulls away slowly, your gaze following his every move, your body craving more - so much more. “Wanna hear the rest?” He whispers, seeking your confirmation before carrying on. You nod desperately giving Jax the green light. With your agreement, he moves closer to you once more. His body now pressing against yours.

His movements are slow and deliberate as he lifts his hands to your face, gently cupping you in his palms. The cold touch of his rings against your skin is a huge contrast to the heat he’s causing you to feel inside. The kiss starts off slow and gentle. His hands moving to grasp the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You smile into the kiss, feeling that one wayward strand of hair that Jax always has out of place brushing against your forehead.

“What took you so long?” You say playfully, knowing this moment was bound to happen sooner or later. “Fuck knows” he laughs, as the kiss becomes more intense.

His hands travel down to your shorts, his fingers slipping under the waist band. He keeps his gaze locked on yours, constantly seeking permission and reassurance with each touch, making sure that you’re completely comfortable with his actions.

The sensation of his touch against your body causes your breath to catch in your throat. “Fuck, y/n you’re so fucking wet” he mumbles into your neck, his words making your clit throb as you coat his fingers with your desire. He groans deeply as he begins to explore further, feeling you react to his every touch.

Your eyes shift down to his lower half, where you notice his reaction taking place. His hard, growing cock is clearly visible, straining against the fabric of his loose grey sweatpants. You can’t help but let out a little whimper as you instinctively grind your body against him. The need and desire is driving you wild. You can feel every inch of him, pressed against you, as you can’t help but imagine how it would feel having him inside you right now.

He continues kissing and sucking at your neck as he teases you with the light, sensual circles of his thumb against your clit. Giving you that warm pool in the pit of your stomach.

You softly pull at the back of his head, encouraging him to stop the kisses for a moment. When he does, you look deeply into his eyes and utter the 3 words he’s been dying to hear. “I need you”.

His eyes widen at the words as he removes his hand from your soaked pussy. He grins as he sees the sight of your desire left on his fingers. He brings them to his lips, tasting them as he imagines all the things to come. “Mhmm” his voice raspy, “You taste so fucking good” his eyes beaming at the sight of the wetness you've left on his fingers. You take his hand and use your tongue to clean off the remaining moisture, making a show of tasting yourself on his skin. His eyes darken and a low growl rolls from his chest. He swallows hard, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you taking pleasure in this act, he can’t help but to act on his desperation.

With a swift and powerful movement, Jax bends you over the table, sending the open carton of orange juice spilling on the ground. He pulls your shorts and panties down with a rough tug exposing you to the cool air. He quickly kicks off his sweatpants and boxers. Your face is forced down into the cold, hard surface of the table as you feel your wrist locked in his firm grip and he pins them behind your back with one hand. You’re finally experiencing the raw power that Jackson Nathaniel Teller possesses.

He lets a bit of saliva fall free from his mouth and onto his other hand, rubbing his thick cock back and forth, getting ready to push it into you. He taps it gently on the mound of your ass, before you feel his weight lay into you, your arms still pinned beneath him. “Ready for me? y/n” his lips brush against your ear, he already knows the answer, but you still let out a little “hmm hmm” anyway. You feel his weight shift off you slightly, anticipating his next move. He begins teasing you with his cock, gliding it between your dampened lips as you silently beg him to enter. Just when you think can’t take it anymore, he finally pushes himself inside of you with a single, strong movement, filling and stretching you to a point where you can’t hold in your moans, even if you tried.

“Fuck, Jax” you moan out, your cheek grazing at the table as your body adjusts to his girth and length. Your hands clench into fists as he pushes you to the edge of insanity, your desperate to cling onto the sides of the table for support, instead you find yourself at the mercy of Jax’s firm grip, holding you into place with a level of control that both excites and thrills you.

His voice is strained and breathless. “Mhm, f-fuck y/n” he manages to let out between gasps. “Tell me…” he tries to say, struggling to form a coherent sentence as he keeps up his relentless rhythm. “Ughhh fuck…” he swiftly pushes his hair out of his face, his locks sticking to his sweaty forehead as he continues to pound into you. “Tell me you’re gonna stay”. He manages to let out, over the sounds of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the kitchen. There’s a hint of pleading in his voice, alongside the obvious pleasure he’s feeling. He wants, no, needs reassurance from you, needs to hear that you plan on staying with him.

You fully surrender to him, sinking deeper into the pleasure and give in to his dominance. Your moans are muffled by the table as you understand what he truly wants - you to be his. As the pleasure becomes more intense, you utter the words “I’m gonna sta…” But before you can finish, jax loosens his grip on your wrist, finally allowing you to be free, but instead pulls tightly onto your hair, lifting your face slightly off the table, wanting to hear every sound that escapes your lips with out any obstacles in the way. “Tell me darlin’… say it!” his voice takes on a deeper, possessive tone as he demands to hear your reassurance.

“…I’m gonna…c-c” you become completely undone beneath him. Your body jerks and wriggles as your bruised, wet walls massage him in response to your pleasure. Jax can feel himself wanting to let go too, but he prolongs it just a little longer. He wants you to experience your own release first, before he allows himself the same pleasure. He continues to move against you, his movements becoming more unsteady and erratic as his own need to release builds up.

His hands, now moved from your hair, form a steady but careful grip around the front of your neck, holding you in place as he digs deeper into you, the sensations overwhelming you both. “That’s it baby girl, come for me” are the last words he manages to say, through short, rugged breaths.

With a quick, but reluctant motion, he pulls his engorged length out from inside you. He hovers over you as he begins stroking himself. You and your pussy already missing how full he makes you feel.

He aims with precision as you feel the warmth and stickiness of his cum land all over your back, Jax grunting as he speaks “yeah… yeah…y/n…fuuuck”.

You look over your shoulder to see his face twisting in undeniable pleasure, a sight you could get used to.

The room falls silent, as jax crashes down on your back. Both of you taking a moment to catch your breaths as you regain your composure after that heated, intense moment. Jax finally lifts himself off of you, his body now sweaty and glistening alongside yours.

He picks his sweatpants off the floor and uses them to clean up all traces of him that linger on your body, taking his time to ensure it’s all gone, before wiping the cum off his own stomach and chest.

You finally peel yourself away from the table, turning round to face Jax as he pulls you closer by your hips. His voice is a bit shaky, a hint of nervousness despite the intensity of the previous moment. “So…” he begins, uncertainty and vulnerability still in his tone. “So… I guess I’m staying” you say, your quiet laugh filling the air, signalling your agreement to what you’ve just committed to.

The familiar, sly smirk appears back on Jax’s face as he playfully suggests “I mean, I can always convince you again” he teases, cocking his head slightly clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “I don’t doubt that, Teller” you respond teasingly.

He reaches for his boxers, slipping them back on and handing your shorts to you as you do the same. He then takes a seat at the table, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

You move around and stand next to him, asking, "So what? Am I like your old lady now?" with a mocking tone, poking fun at the term "old lady" that Jax had introduced you to before. He chuckles slightly at your question, knowing the underlying meaning behind it.

Jax knows that you need clear confirmation before making this step to a significant change in your life. He inhales deeply before responding.

“Yeah, you are” he finally answers back fast and with confidence.

The smoke swirling around him as his eyes meet yours. He gives a little nod, confirming your status as Jax Tellers old lady.

[one year later]

“You ready sweetheart?” Gemma’s voice breaks the silence in the room as she carefully adjusts the veil on your head. You turn to face the mirror, taking a moment to admire yourself in your wedding dress - a day you never thought would happen. You take a deep breath and look at yourself one final time, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I’m ready” you let out in a confident, soft whisper.

Jax stands at the altar, alongside his best friend Opie. He notices Jax’s nervous behaviour and asks “You nervous?”Jax can’t help but fidget in place, scanning the surroundings ahead of him, anxiety and excitement written all over his face. Opie reassures him with a firm pat on the shoulder, trying to calm his nerves.

“You know it’s gonna be okay brother” he says “she’s the one for you man, we all know it… so do you”. The confidence and trust in Opies words is present, and Jax is able to draw strength from them.

The ceremony as a whole was truly beautiful, filled with little details that represented you both as a couple. Emotions ran high especially when you both said you “I do’s” with a few tears shed and a room full of love and complete support.

You and Jax manage to steal a quiet moment together, tucked away in the corner of the after party. After a day of being the centre of attention, it’s a relief to have a moment in peace, just the two of you, the newlyweds.

“What was that little thing you and Ope did there?” You smile, ear to ear. “I promise to treat you as good as my leather, and ride you as much as my Harley” Jax laughs as he repeats the phrase, the creases around his eyes deepen as he smiles at you, the love in his look is undeniable. “Another one of our traditions” he says, as he traces small patterns against your bare arm with his thumb.

“I love you so fucking much y/n” he confesses, his voice filled with emotion and his eyes welling up slightly. “The both of you” his hand instinctively moving to caress your stomach, the secret you both share adding an extra layer of special to the moment.

“Jackie boy!” Chibb’s voice calls out. Jax moves his hand discreetly from your stomach. But the sharp eyed scotsman catches the subtle movement. He walks towards you both slowly. “Your Mothers needing you in the photo booth” he lets Jax know whilst giving you a knowing wink, a silent acknowledgment of what he’s just observed.

[four and a half years later]

You sit on the floor, drawing pictures with your eldest son Abel. Baby Harley is sat in her bouncer quietly observing. You glance over at Abel’s drawing.

“What are you drawing baby?” You ask, a small smile on your lips. “I’m drawing our family mommy… there’s you, see, and then me and daddy and that one is Harley” the sweet innocence in his voice tugs at your heartstrings, a beautiful representation of the family that you and Jax have created together.

Abel glances up at you, a curious expression on his face. “Mommy… where did you and Daddy find eachother?” He asks, as he continues moving the crayon across the page waiting for your response.

You take in a deep breath as your thoughts drift back to that very morning, the day that you and Jax had unexpectedly crossed paths, his presence changing your life in ways you never could have imagined.

You smile, looking over at Abel as you explain. “Mommy needed a place to stay for a while, so Daddy let me stay here” you explain, keeping the situation simplified, but still letting your son know how kind his Daddy was - and still is, opening his home to you, even though at the time you were still a stranger.

Jax chimes in from the kitchen, with a hint of humour, “yeah! and it was only meant to be for a few days!” He laughs to himself, as he’s sat at the very same kitchen table (still going strong by the way) that was involved in the moment that changed the course of your lives forever.

He bites his lip gently whilst smiling as the memory of that day, so many years ago now, lingers in his mind. He takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to capture the moment in time again. The smells, the sounds, the raw emotions all flooding his senses.

You laugh, shaking your head at Jax’s comment. You turn your attention back to Abel who is patiently waiting for more details. “Daddy told me I could stay, until I sorted things out and got back on my own two feet…” you explain, looking over your shoulder to the kitchen door, seeing a slither of Jax’s figure sat at the very table. “…but I never did leave” you finish the sentence, twirling your ring on your wedding finger. Your words hang in the air.

Jax walks into the living room, slumping down on the black leather couch as he watches over his wife and two children. He can’t quite recall the specific reason as to why he was in that parking lot all those years ago. However, he knows he had to be there for a reason, and that reason, was you.

He catches the smile that you direct towards him a subtle cue that you’re expressing your love for him. This particular smile has become a silent language between the two of you, a way of saying “I love you” without making a sound. The corners of his mouth pull up in response, his own way of acknowledging your sentiment and returning the unspoken words of his love.

I know, I know this took me ages too! So apologies once again haha! Thank you to the anon that requested it, I’m actually really proud of this one 🫶🏽

🖤 @ravennaortiz @theesirenteller | here you go my lovelies! I hope you both enjoy too!

On to the next request 💅🏽

apologies for any mistakes also, I’ve read over this a thousand times so it’s literally like a blur to me x

SEND IN UR JAX TELLER REQUESTS! this is a no judgement zone. Honestly🖤

💀photos, gifs and music is not mine. (Apart from being edited and put together)

XOXO secretly samcro

[suhkusa]

It’s a day after the fight that Rin decides it’s time to finally stop moping and talk to you. 

It’s silent in the halls as he waits for your lecture to finally end. When the door finally swings open, he’s alert as he observes every person who comes out. And when he finally sees you, his feet practically move on their own. 

“Y/N,” he can see as you freeze up at his voice. “Can we talk?”

“About what? There’s nothing to talk about,” Rin would usually follow up with a smart remark, but given the situation, there was no hint of sarcasm in your voice.

“Please,” Rin says, and he thinks he sees your eyes soften before they sharpen and you roll them.

“Whatever,”

You follow a little behind him as the two of you go to a secluded corner, away from the eyes of your peers.

Your eyes drift to the side as you laugh to yourself, “What? Did you want to reject me in person?”

Rintaro doesn’t get nervous. But in this exact moment, he can’t feel anything but nervousness. 

The man sighs before his eyes lock onto your face, “Y/N, I’m sorry,”

You shift slightly under his gaze, “Look, if you don’t like me, I don’t care–”

“No that’s not–”

“But you didn't have to shove it in my face in person,”

“Dude, I like you,”

“Honestly my pride is already– what?” Your eyes finally lock onto his. “What the fuck?”

His eyes widened, he didn’t expect it to come out like that, hopefully you didn’t think he was joking or mocking you.

Rin tries to control the damage, “Sorry, you didn’t let me– I just wanted to apologize for being fucked up to you the other day– I really didn’t mean it, I was just mad but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that. Especially since I–” Rin feels himself choking on his words, weird since he had said those 3 words just before this. But that was a slip up, right now he was aware of every word coming out of his mouth. He peers up at you only to see you smirking at him.

“Come on, cough it up. You what?” you smile.

“I like you,” he says. 

Your face lights up with relief, “You’re lucky I like you, too, or else I would’ve reported you to the dean for being a stalker,”

There’s an awkward pause before you decide to speak again, “But why did you push me away like that if you like me?”

“I’m scared,” Rin replies, he takes a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t know– Everything changed so suddenly, I never expected myself to like you like this. It’s new,”

Your eyes are soft as you nod in response. “I understand. I wasn’t expecting to date right away. We could just take it slow– if that’s what you’d want?”

“I think I’d like that,”

It happens in the blink of an eye. You lunged at him, pulling his face towards yours, meeting in the middle with a kiss.

When the two of you part, he’s the first to speak, “Pervert, what happened to taking it slow?”

“You’re the pervert, you liked it,” 

Touché.

BLAH BLAH BLAH — I FUCKING HATE HIM

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTES.

y/n's friends group facetimed her as soon as motoya saw suna's post

atsumu spam called suna and got blocked...

^but the guys were happy for him

last chap tmo :C

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[rileyslibrary]

Idk if you’re taking commissions rn but if you are.. Can you do one where reader acts as Ghosts weighted blanket after an anxiety attack? I feel like he’d love that xx

I’m glad you asked for the reader to act as Ghost’s weighted blanket instead of the other way around because that would be like being flattened by a road roller. Also, it is good to note that anxiety attacks are not the same as panic attacks. Yes, they do have some similarities, but they differ. This story is about Ghost having an anxiety attack, so bear that in mind.

And let’s be clear here: he would never explicitly ask you to do such a thing.

Never.

In fact, he would never ask you to do anything that would need you to be physically attached to him, neither from the front nor back. And his anxiety, if he ever suffers from it—which I’m sure he does because, come on, who doesn’t in our times, plus it is mentioned in the comics—he can cover it pretty well.

But it takes one to know one, right? You’ve had your fair share of anxiety attacks; you know they are not sudden or obvious. Instead, they develop slowly, gradually. That sense of general unease lingers, haunting him for weeks, even months. He doesn’t start trembling or shaking out of nowhere. This one is subtle but constant, like a leaky faucet that drips every few seconds. He feels restless and triggered by something vague that he can’t understand himself. All. The. Time.

He knows what a panic attack is; he experienced it multiple times before, mainly due to the nature of his work. But an anxiety attack? To a soldier who associated the word “attack” with something swift, sudden and imminent? There’s no such thing as an anxiety attack to him.

No.

He doesn’t comprehend this constant need to stay in control, why he’s always tense, his inability to take a full, deep breath. To him, that’s just how his body functions. Relaxation has been a foreign concept since childhood, so he’s normalised it. And he learned how to bear these symptoms instead of understanding what triggers them and learning how to alleviate them.

You’ve observed the pattern; he tends to become like that a few months before a mission, so you were able to put one and one together.

And one day, you find him lying face-down on the bed. Something prompts you, and you crawl on top of him. He shifts and asks you, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing”. Maybe he even tries to stand up while you are on his back, and you ask him to trust you; he’ll see.

He’s hesitant but obeys, though he’s more alert than ever now. You settle on top of him; he feels like he’s carved from wood, but not because of his physique. He’s tense. Stiff. Rigid. He’s afraid to let go. He holds his breath. His palms are pressed into the mattress beside his chest, ready to spring into a burpee and launch you back to where you came from.

Yet he doesn’t do it. Slowly his muscles relax under your body, and you feel him gradually—though clumsily—release tension in each body part; his legs, back, and then his shoulders. He finally lets go of the breath he’s been holding, replaced by a long exhale, his first in months. He places his hands on the sides of his body and lets out a repressed chuckle.

You ask him why he’s laughing, and he asks you to turn your face away because you are breathing into his ear. You comply.

With you not watching, he can finally close his eyes now. Good.

But even Ghost can take so much weight. Or so much intimacy. After a while, he snaps out of it, and he wriggles out from under you, letting you fall on the mattress, muttering a brief “Enough.” He doesn’t thank you for anything. What did you really do? Yes, he feels a little lighter, and his mind is clearer, but all you did was rest on him. That’s all. No need to thank you for that.

He needs it, though. Again and again. No, he doesn’t need you, of course. No, silly. He craves that sensation again—letting go. So whenever he feels overwhelmed, he awkwardly gestures toward his back and asks you sternly to “do that thing”. And you try to suppress your laughter and obey his command.

And slowly, just like his anxiety attacks come and go, he realises that it’s not just your weight on top of him that soothes him. It’s you, your will to make him feel better, your heart beating against his back, your form attached to him that makes all this chaos in the world feel a little bit more manageable than before.

[doitforbangchan]

ABANB alternate chtp 18 smut scene

Soooo I had written two versions of the Minho smut from Chapter 18. This is the original one I wrote but decided to redo it and went with the softer version for the chapter. 😌

I thought y'all should see what it could have been with mean Minho or as i call him Mean-ho. This was not proofread or edited, it was just a rough draft so it may seem lacking 🫣

chapter 18

Warnings: Afab/fem reader, smut, unprotected p in v, sub!reader, Dom!Minho, crying (a TON), Dacryphilia, edging, choking (with hand and a belt), spanking, subspace, biting, blood in mouth, cursing, kissing, light masochism, asphyxiation, begging, mean Minho

WC: 3.5k

You rounded the corner to go to Chan's room to hide away, but before you could open the door a hand grabbed you and wrapped harshly around your neck, and a sturdy chest at your back. Your movements were halted completely as you screamed in fright, your hands coming up to grab the offending hand.  

“So you can listen to me.” 

It was Minho. You were so in your own head you didn’t even sense him nearby. 

“Minho.. What are y-” 

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear any of your fucking snark right now. You’re gonna shut your mouth for once and listen.” His aura was so.. Domineering. Authoritative. It made you instinctively want to obey him. Though you would never tell him that. “Be a good little omega and go to my room. Sit on the bed facing the wall, on your knees. Do you understand?” 

You nodded, not speaking as ordered. His low voice in your ear was making you dizzy. 

“Good. Now go.”

 He dropped his hand from your neck and stepped back from you. He watched as you quickly scurried away and down the hall to his room. Minho dragged his hand down his face and sighed. This is not how he imagined today would go. But sometimes it can’t be helped, you need an attitude check. And he was going to give it to you. 

You went into Minhos room, doing as he commanded and climbing onto his bed sitting on your knees and facing away from the door. Once again it was silent, you could hear nothing but your own breathing. Your nerves were shot. You didn’t know what was to come and it was making you incredibly anxious. 

You knew you shouldn’t have been so rude to him, especially after he stood up for you and got you out of that frightening situation- but you couldn’t help it. Minho was the only person you were testy with, and clearly neither of you understood why. 

Minho stood there at the threshold of his room, observing you as you sat upon his bed and tremored. He moved silently, borderline cat-like, as he crept into the room and stood behind you. You didn't know he had even entered the room yet if not for the sudden clinking of his belt as he slid it through his belt loops and off his pants. You spun your head around quickly, being alerted to his presence by the sound. 

“I didn’t say you could look at me, omega. Turn back around.” He ordered, and you wanted to defy him; to tell him to fuck off but instead you settled for a weak glare then stiffly complied. 

This time he let you hear his footsteps and movements as he crept closer to you and onto the bed. You felt him crawl up until he was directly behind you, his breath on your neck. You were shaking by the time you felt his lips on your shoulder. 

“Mm, such a pretty sight- these marks on your body. The boys did a fine job covering you in their love.” His lips danced across your skin as you sat perfectly still, even going as far as to hold your breath so you wouldn’t move a muscle. “I have no idea why you’d wanna cover them up.” His tongue ran along the darkest hickey that was left on your neck- one from Jeongin the other day. You whimpered at the feeling, tilting your head back even further to grant him access. “Really hurt our feelings.” The last bit came out as a near growl and suddenly he had his belt wrapped around your neck. 

You gasped and grabbed the offending belt, panic beginning to rise. “Minho!” 

“Shut up!” He looped the belt so it turned into a makeshift leash, not enough to choke you just enough to hold you. His hand that wasn’t holding the belt went to the back of your head, shoving it down swiftly into his bed. “Don’t speak until I say you can speak! You’re not in charge right now, little girl. Learn. Your. Fucking. Place.” 

Your hands balled up as you fisted the bedding with your face buried into his pillow and the pure scent of him filling your lungs; seeing as air certainly wasn’t. You were already crying, your tears wetting the pillows. There were so many different emotions running through you; fear, submission, anger.. But the main one was arousal. You could feel your panties dampening against your folds, and it made you embarrassed that Minho could probably smell it. 

The man was still leaning over you, having released your head but still holding his leash. His free hand ran along the back of your thighs and up to your covered ass. His touches weren’t harsh but the smack he delivered was. You yelped but quickly bit your tongue to avoid any more sounds escaping.  He took note of your obedience. Minho grabbed the top hem of your shorts and tugged hard , drawing them down your ass along with your panties and leaving your bottom half bare for him. He held back a moan when he saw the wet strings of your arousal clinging onto the gusset of your underwear. 

Thankfully your face was buried still or he would have surely been able to see how ashamed you felt, knowing he was now able to see you in a way he never has before. You hadn’t felt nearly as emotional when the rest of the pack got to see you intimately though you hadn’t the relationship with them that you’ve had with him- the back and forth, the callus attitudes, the tension. 

You just knew he was behind you sporting the smuggest grin (he was) and it made you furious. Furious at him for the power he held over you and furious at yourself for allowing it to happen. Not just allowing it, but enjoying it. 

He yanked your shorts all the way off of you and threw them on the floor. The smell of your slick was quickly filling the room, seeping into Minho's lungs and making him feel borderline inebriated. He bit his lip as he palmed your ass, squeezing the thickness of your cheek and letting out an appreciative hum. He was an ass man, afterall. Your fists curled tighter when you heard his sound, almost letting out a whimper in return. 

After another squeeze to your opposite cheek his lithe fingers ran up your spine to the laces of your top where he began to untie it. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the fabric untying- save for his small huff when the laces gave him some trouble. Eventually he was able to undo it completely.  At this point you started to lose your patience, and you let out a huff of annoyance. 

You jolted when he suddenly gave a sharp tug on the makeshift leash, making you choke and gasp. His fingers dug into the meat roughly and you could feel the indents of his nails and knew you would have bruises in the shape of his fingertips. 

“Don’t you fucking huff at me. Sit up.” He smacked your ass making it sting and pulled on the belt again. 

Apparently you didn’t move quick enough for the beta, as he gave a condescending scoff - choosing to give your ass another hard smack. Once again you remained silent. Your top fell off completely when you put yourself on your hands and knees.

“Mmm look at you, bare naked on my bed, held by my belt, waiting for my command. Finally you're listening to me.” 

His hand cupped your pussy from behind then ran two digits through your slick. You shuddered when Minho gathered some of the wetness from your folds, then he pulled that hand up to the front of his face as he observed the way the arousal glistened. You couldn’t see it when he stuck those two fingers in his mouth and ran his tongue along them to clean them up, his eyes threatening to roll back into his head because of how fucking good you tasted. 

“So fucking wet and I haven’t done anything to you yet. Seems to me you're enjoying yourself a little too much. Maybe you aren’t as innocent as everyone believes you to be, hmm?” Minho shuffled until he was on the right side of you, leaning down to see your heated face. “I know otherwise though. I could tell you’re not as sweet as you pretend to be, you’ve shown me how defiant you can be.” He tugged the belt, reminding you he held the reins. His tone was beyond condescending as he spoke. “I know what you want, but how about you tell me what you want? Go ahead. Tell me.” 

“Minho..” Your voice was soft, beautifully submissive. “Want you..” 

“You want me, huh? You sure about that, baby?” He was looking down at you with a borderline evil smirk.  You didn’t pick up on the implied malicious compliance, too needy and quickly falling into subspace to even register it, so you nodded your head eagerly.”Say please.”

“Please Minho.” You wet your lips with your tongue, now your lips and eyes are shining. 

He tossed his head back and forth as if contemplating your request. “Ok. Here I am.” 

Minho yanked on the belt, pulling your face towards him and straight into his clothed crotch. You couldn’t suppress a surprised yelp when your face made contact, the fabric of his jeans feeling slightly scratchy on your skin. He held your lead close to him, not letting you gain any space away from him. Min hissed quietly at the stimulation, his hard cock begging for attention from within its confines. He rutted his hips a little, grinding against your face. 

“Min!” Your plea came out muffled and one of your hands went to his thigh to brace yourself. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He ground against you harder, your mouth was still slightly open and your saliva was wetting the front of his pants. “I’m giving you what you wanted. My cock is right here, omega.” 

The intention was not lost on either of you nor was the nuance of the situation. You were laid out doggy style and completely naked while he was kneeling over you completely clothed, making you rub and nuzzle against his covered crotch. It was a clear power play to embarrass you and make you submissive. And it was working. 

Your lips nipped at the material, mouth watering at even being so close to him. But it wasn’t what you really wanted from him. So you gave him what you thought he wanted. “Minho, please. M’ sorry,  I’ll listen to you. M’ sorry.” 

He raised a brow at you, “ Oooo now you wanna be nice? Now you wanna be good f’ me? Hmm I think it’s too late for that Baby. But,” he began to pet the back of your head, giving you some comfort. “Maybe if you ask me again, make it real sweet and cute like I know you can be, maybe I’ll go easy on you. Maybe.” 

Your lip jutted out and your eyes began to leak more crystalline tears, the big glassy orbs resembling an injured doe. 

“Minho, please touch me. Please give me your cock. Wanna make you feel good- be good for you Minho. I need it. Need you.” You placed wet kisses to his length, nuzzling the offending fabric right after. “Will do whatever you want.” 

“Whatever I want huh?” He gave some slack to the belt he held, petting your head tenderly then bringing his hand to your cheek, tilting your face up to look at him. His thumb wiped at the incoming tear, smearing the liquid into your skin. “ I wanna play with my pretty omega.”

Minho forced your face back into his crotch, this time even rougher than before. The friction was starting to rub your skin raw, making you wince with every grind. His hand left your cheek and went back to your head, this time he grasped your hair tightly in his fist. Over and over again he shoved you into him. He was clearly getting off on this power play; his throaty whines gave it away. You felt like you were suffocating and couldn't breath against the denim. Your hands on his thighs attempted to push him away even for a second but he didn’t allow you too. “Gonna make me cum you rub me so fucking good. Maybe I should just take my dick out and cum all over you. Or I have a better idea; how about I use that belt to tie you to my bed post, then hump your face until I cover you with my cum. But you’d probably like that huh? Dirty omega probably wants to lay here covered in me until it dries on you. Fuck that would be a perfect sight.”

 Minho was rambling as if he was stuck in a fantasy and didn’t even register that you were struggling. 

Panic began to set in when you couldn’t get away, and you started to squirm and cry. Pleas of his name were muffled along with your crying. Your small fists beat against him frantically and that seemed to pull the beta from his trance.

 He grinded on your face once harshly then pulled you back. You sputtered as you gasped for air, drool and tears falling down your face and sticking to his pants. 

“N-no.. no more..” You wailed, throat croaky from crying. Your body was quivering and you looked like a mess. “Ple-ase Min… No more, m’ sorry.” 

“Aww omega,” Minho cooed and took the hand out of your hair and back down to your face. He was pleased with your submission, finding it easier to break you than he had anticipated. Your skin there was tender from his punishment and the heat of his hand did little to soothe it physically, but emotionally it was everything. You needed his care and mercy so much that even his patronizing tone flew right over your head. “Begged and pleaded for me and you can’t even take it huh? Just had to cry about it like the little baby you are. Do you know how pretty you look when you cry, hmm? Drives me so fucking crazy. Makes me wanna see how glassy those eyes can really get.”

You mewled when his thumb ran softly over your cheek, collecting the wetness. Then he moved it down to your lips. He groaned when you obediently opened your mouth and accepted the digit. Your tongue flicked over the tip and tasted the saltiness of your own tears.  

“I think I wanna see what you look like when you cry on my cock now.” His thumb came out of your mouth and he wiped the spit on your lips. Then both hands traveled down to your neck and to the leather of the belt. “Would you like that, omega? You want me to fuck you?” He slowly undid the belt and slid it from your neck and threw it to the floor. 

“Y-yes, Minho.” You were glad to have the leash off your neck, one of your hands went up to rub the skin but his own hand smacked it away then ran over your neck himself. 

“You’ve been so good for me this far, omega. Are you gonna keep it up and listen like you're meant to?” There was a bite to his words but you were beyond needy for any of his kind attention that it didn’t matter. 

You nodded quickly, starting to blubber again. “Mhm, I’ll be so good, wanna be good for you, promise Min, please please.” 

“Shhh, baby it’s alright. Min will give you what you need now, ok?” He slowly pushed down his pants and underwear until they fell to the floor. His hard length sprung free and slapped against his covered stomach. He lowered you down onto your back and climbed on top of you. Minho's arms went to either side of your body and caged you against the bed. 

You looked absolutely debauched. Your face was wet and your hair was a mess, and you were sniffling and whimpering under him just begging for attention. It became too much for the man to handle. With no more words spoken, he pressed a devastating kiss to your pouty lips. Your whole world shattered and all at once was rebuilt with that one kiss. It was a moment the two of you had been both dreaming about and dreading. And it was totally worth the wait. 

Your hands were at your sides and they twitched with a need to touch him- to wrap your arms around him and hold him to you. But you knew better than to do so without being told. You would do anything to stay in his good graces right now. 

Minho could feel you squirm and it made him smirk and hum. He knew he held the control and he was becoming drunk on it. Now he knew how Chan felt.. 

The beta used his tip to smack against your clit, giving a jolt of needed stimulation to the little bundle of nerves. Yet you didn’t move. “Good girl.” He praised and you let more tears fall. Minho went to line his member up with your center, but he paused before he pushed in. “You can touch me now, omega, go ahead and hold on to me. You'll need it.”  

Immediately your arms shot up and around him, getting as close as you possibly could to him. You purred in satisfaction when you held him, nuzzling deeply into his neck and wetting his skin with your tears. 

He chuckled in your ear, then shoved his length into you with one hard thrust. Your eyes slammed shut and your back arched at the intrusion, making your bare nipples rub against the fabric of his shirt.  Your mouth fell open and a throaty whine left you involuntarily. Minho may not have been an alpha but he sure was hung like one. 

“Jesus fucking christ, you are so fucking tight omega. Your sweet omega pussy is squeezing the life outta me, clenching me so good.” He didn’t give you time to adjust and began to thrust into you, his hips making a smacking sound. 

Minho leaned more of his weight onto you as he used one arm to support his body. The other hand went to your neck and found a place there. He would squeeze your windpipe when he gave you particularly hard thrusts. You thought it would scare you but in reality it felt divine. The dark hair that resided at the base of his cock was stimulating your clit with every single one of his grinds. 

You were quickly becoming worked up, your orgasm just on the cusp. Your nails were embedding themselves into his shoulders, drawing blood but you thought he didn’t seem to notice or if he did then he didn’t give a shit. In truth; he loved the pain you were giving him. The masochist in him was reeling. 

He moaned and cursed when you clenched around him, “Fuck baby, you’re about to cum aren’t you?” 

“Uh huh” you nodded into him. He slowed his movements- his pounding turning into a rolling as he withdrew his chest from yours. “No no no no please don’t go please.” You begged and attempted to pull him back to you, now full on sobbing. “Please Minho please.” 

He tsked down at you with a shake of his head. “Pathetic little baby wants to cum? You think you deserve it?” 

“Please! Been good!” He was steady despite your tugging on his shoulders, so you resorted to trying to thrust yourself up onto him. “Need t’ cum. Wan’ it Min. Won’t ever be mean to you again I promise!”

The beta smirked, feeling the satisfaction of victory. “I’m gonna hold you to that, omega.” Then he restarted his deep pounding. 

You threw your head back as you moaned, giving him a chance to increase the pressure on your neck. The slick was pouring out of you and covering both of your thighs and his bed. The wet squelches were a filthy addition to the already overwhelming scene and it was making you both extra fuzzy. 

All too soon you felt the build up within you once more, and this time he didn’t let up when you begged to cum. “Gonna cum! Please can I? Please!” 

“Yes omega, you can cum. You’ve earned it.” He said it then without a moment's hesitation he clamped his teeth into your neck, giving you a deep claiming bite.

You felt like you exploded into a thousand tiny stars. Your body convulsed as you came, your moans turning to screams from all of the sensations. Minho was growling as he sucked and dug his teeth in further and further, he seemed like a man possessed. 

His own orgasm came crashing down on him and you felt the fierce heat of his cum shoot inside of you. His eyes rolled back into his head and his rutting turned almost violent. He wanted his cum as deep into you as possible- wanted so deep it would stay there forever. 

©doitforbangchan

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[phantomskeep]

The Early Bird Gets The Worm - Chapter 1

The Early Bird Gets The Worm

Chapter 1 -  9 Out 10 Doctors Prescribe Child Rearing for Emotionally Constipated Families

Written by @agent-sushi-fbi & myself uwu

Read it on AO3 here!

Masterpost | Chapter Two Was he still wearing traffic light colors? No. Was Bruce going senile as he got older? Yes, and he was gathering evidence of it every day.

Dick wondered once again why they were having so many issues between them as he swung to the next rooftop, landing almost gracefully amongst the leftover rain on the asphalt. Stumbling on his feet was embarrassing nonetheless and he grumbled to himself as he kicked a pebble across the roof, watching as it hit an old AC unit with a hollow clang. Honestly, he came to Gotham to help Bruce out of the goodness of his heart while Tim is out of town and how does the man respond? By treating him like he's still a little Robin meant to dutifully take orders without question!

“Fucking old man, treating me like I'm a kid,” Dick muttered under his breath, not caring who heard him nearby, he was alone on the roof anyway.

“This ‘fucking old man’ can still hear you,” Batman’s deadpan voice came over the line. Dick froze on the spot, shoulders tightening as he heard the quiet undertones of anger. Oops, comms were still on and open to the shared channel… “Either mute your comms or keep those thoughts to yourself, Nightwing.”

Dick pondered for a minute, putting his hand on his chin like he was really thinking on the idea before he responded. “Nope, I'll pass,” he told Batman cheekily, smirking to himself. He was an adult now. While Bruce may have taken him in and taught him all he knew at Dick's lowest point, it doesn't mean the man gets to treat him like a child anytime he comes by home Gotham.

He was his own grown man. Nightwing had his own city to protect now–he was even a well-established member of the hero community in his own right! He didn’t need some emo flying furry telling him what to do anymore. Covering his eyes from the light drizzle that had picked up again, he observed the area below him, staying alert for any sort of disturbance that may pop up and ignoring Bruce’s displeased grunts. It wouldn’t be good if Dick were to miss a crime after their little “spat” earlier, as Aflred would call it. A screaming match was a more accurate description if you asked anyone else, and he was not willing to let it open him up to more criticism from the “World’s Greatest Detective” later on when they were back in the Cave.

Stiffly, the black and blue clad vigilante stalked to the edge of the darkened rooftop, trying his best to not clench his fists like some angsty teenager. What was he even hoping to gain, coming back here? The man stood, pondering as he gazed down at the busy streets of his childhood home. A pat on the head, like the good little dog he was acting like? Bruce calls, so he comes running? Dick scoffed at himself, turning his head sharply. He aimed his grapple, firing it at the corner of a nearby building. With the grace born from years of practice, Nightwing danced between towering structures as he continued his Batman-approved patrol route.

“Nightwing, behave yourself over comms or you will go back to the Cave for the night.” Dick grit his teeth, jaw clenched tight as Bruce tried to basically ground him. He shook his head, preparing to land on the next rooftop, but stopping just shy to grab onto a gargoyle sitting on the edge of a lower office building. Leaning against the cold surface, Dick felt the sharp points of the creature’s horns digging into his back help to ground him in the moment. 

“Batman, you do not have a say over my actions or whether I am benched anymore,” Dick told him, evenly spacing out his breaths as he tried to keep the rage at bay. He felt like there was a ball of heat in his chest he was desperately trying to cool as he methodically rubbed his gloved fingers over the stone ridges of the statue's ugly face. 

“Nightwing–” Bruce started to grunt, so Dick turned off his comms as a response and took in a deep breath of the familiar, smoggy Gotham air. This city may not have been where he was born, and he may not live here anymore, but the man found peace flying through her night sky. This would always be his home. As ugly and villain-infested as it may be… This shithole was his shithole.

Ever since Jason passed, Dick knew things needed to change so he could preserve this feeling and keep this dysfunctional family intact. Tim helped a lot in the beginning, when Dick was too bitter to do more than practically tell a thirteen-year-old to handle a drunkard on his own. But, he's trying to make up for it now by helping on patrol and making them all participate in family dinners twice a month. It wasn't much, and he could admit it wasn't really working since he'd noticed Tim wearing sound proof headphones more often than not when Dick and Bruce were together. It broke his heart that another little brother of his felt like he needed to prepare himself for an inevitable screaming match from his family members. 

Dick was trying, he really was. But Bruce just made everything so hard. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of multiple trash cans falling over each other nearby. His face twisted in confusion, eyebrows scrunching together as his head whipped around to find the source of the noise. Body becoming a tightly coiled spring of focused intent, he silently crept closer to where he heard the cacophony. The noise became apparent in the way of a metal lid rolling out of the alley below and into the street like a quarter, spinning and spinning for a moment before falling flat. Dick cautiously peered over the edge of the roof, eyebrow raised at what he could imagine he'd find. A goon passed out drunk? A working girl kicking the nuts of a deadbeat harassing her? An internet famous Gotham-patented radioactive raccoon?

What he certainly did not expect was an unruly mop of black hair peeking out above the trash cans, only visible against the dark of night in contrast to the silver metal they clung to with tiny baby hands. He watched in disbelief as this child (so tiny and cute, he had to admit) stumbled to their feet, swaying as little as they reached for the contents of the trash. Dick felt sick just looking at the spill, but he felt worse knowing the child was doing this out of desperation. Tapping on his lenses, they zoomed in on the kid and he saw how small they were and how scrawny they looked. Alfred would faint at the sight of how skinny this child was and Dick would be right there with the old butler.

Making a quick decision, Dick hastily hopped onto a pipe that clung to the building he stood on and quietly slid down it like a fireman's pole. He didn't want to scare the small child who, at closer inspection now that he was on the ground, looked similarly disgusted at their options before them. The kid was still swaying, the movement picking up in speed before they plopped onto the asphalt, groaning. 

Dick rushed forward, panicking, but his sudden burst of speed startled the child. The tiny twig of a human scrambled back, a weakened wheeze of panic bursting from their lungs as they held out a small hand to ward off the vigilante.

“Hey, hey now,” Dick soothed as he crouched down to make himself seem smaller. “It’s okay, you’re okay…I’m not gonna hurt you.” The practiced “soothe the victim” voice was easy to fall into as domino-covered eyes worryingly took in the shaking child. He wanted to reassure this kid as much as possible, but he knew that he couldn't promise them anything. Making a promise to a child was important, he learned young that if you couldn't keep that promise the child would see it as a loss of trust.

“S-stay back!” The kid’s squeaky voice tugged at Dick’s heartstrings with how much terror it held. “Yo-you can’t t-take me!”

Dick slowly lowered himself to fully sit down on the filthy, trash-covered alley. He grimaced at the smell (was that sludge on his glove?) and he crossed his legs, letting his arms hang disarmingly on his knees. Keeping his body language loose and unassuming, Dick smiled goofily at the other. “My name’s Nightwing, I’m one of the heroes here in Gotham tonight. You’re safe now, no one’s going to take you while I'm here.”

Icy blue eyes peered out from behind a dirt-stained hand, reminding Dick of a different time, a different alley-found kid who was taken too soon. By Batman's stinky cowl would he let another one be lost to the horrors of this city as well. When the kid spoke, their voice was full of doubt. “How can I trust you? For all I know you could be some weirdo looking to kidnap me!”

A surprised laugh burst from Dick before he could contain himself, causing the filthy child to flinch away with a startled squeak. He sobered up quickly at that reaction however, leaning away from the kid to give the illusion Dick was no longer directly in their space, but still close enough to keep an eye on them. He's met children like this before, wary of adults or the world around them in general, only relying on themselves at an age where they can't do enough to keep their heads above water. Blinking rapidly at the thought to hold back his tears, Dick remembered when Jason first came to the manor. Even as distant as he was with his brother at the time, he saw how the pre-teen acted out of self preservation even months into Alfred's mother-henning.

This kid had the same fear written in the lines on his young face, as well as the same steel of determination in his eyes. Dick respected it, but he still was worried about this child who looked like they hadn't eaten a proper meal or slept in a bed in months. 

“I might be a weirdo to some people for sure,” Dick agreed casually. The kid blinked in surprise and he grinned a little in triumph, quickly smothering it with a serious expression. Exaggerating his actions, Dick twisted his head this way and that around the alley as though checking for anyone listening in, before he leaned a little bit forward with his hand blocking his mouth. The child shuffled forward a few inches, alternating between staring him down and checking the alley themselves with wide eyes. Dick resisted the urge to laugh again, focusing on trying to ease the kid into believing that he was safe.

“Between you and me? My friends think I'm a super big weirdo for putting peach jam in my pb & j's,” he told the kid, nodding his head sagely. All he got was a deadpan look in response, all of the sudden interest he got was lost from the kid before him.

“So you're not just a weirdo, but also super lame with no taste buds?” 

Wow, okay, so Dick was a little offended… or maybe he was impressed? The kid gave him a look that was reminiscent of Alfred or Jason when he tried to argue he could help in the kitchen. The “are you seriously this stupid to defend yourself like that” look. 

Yeah, maybe a little more offended than anything. Didn't mean the kid wasn't cute while doing it. 

Quick thinking made Dick grab at his uniform with striped fingers, gripping the fabric around his heart. “Ouch!” He wailed dramatically, flopping his legs forward as he used his toned core muscles to lean backwards, careful to not let more of the filthy alley touch him. “Ah! Truly a strong opponent, I cannot win!”

Quiet giggles echoed around the alley, causing Dick to grin in triumph. He titled his head to the side a bit to better see the small child. Their face was scrunched up in mirth, both hands covering their mouth in an attempt to better muffle the joyful sounds trying to escape. Encouraged by this, Dick resolved to continue to give the best performance of his life.

“I will simply never recover,” Dick moaned, making his body twitch dramatically. “This is how I die…the great Nightwing, struck down in a battle of wits by a toddler!” He gasped, reaching one hand up to the sky as he gave his big finale. “I can…see the light! It’s calling me…must…go…” He murmured quietly before giving a final spasm with an extremely convincing “blegh”, letting his arm drop to his chest and sticking his tongue out of his mouth.

As the giggles continued, they got closer. Peaking an eye open just a bit, Dick could see the kid toddling closer to the felled hero. “You’re silly,” they said, poking at Dick’s cheek hesitantly. “That’s not what death looks like.”

Dick could feel his heart shatter. This kid, no more than, what? Maybe four or five years old? This poor, tiny child was trying to correct Dick on what dying looked like. It made Bludhaven’s protector want to just scoop them up and wrap them up in a giant, fluffy blanket and protect them from the world.

“It’s a good thing I’m not actually dead then, huh?” Dick said with a grin, trying so hard to not let what he was feeling filter through. Bright smile for the tiny concerning child, bright smile.

The child cocked their head to the side like a curious puppy. “Well, duh,” the little thing scoffed, relaxing a bit at the horizontal hero. “I'd know it if you were actually dead.”

*****************

He really needed to get some meat on this kid’s bones, like immediately. Dick felt like he was carrying a small bag of potatoes while he grappled through the streets of downtown Gotham towards Wayne Enterprises to meet B for their patrol check in. Maybe if he showed the kid to Alfred, he could just keep him safe at the manor and he wouldn't worry about the tiny thing in his arms being so tiny anymore.

“Where are we going?” A squeaky voice shouted in his left ear. Was there a ringing bell nearby? 

Dick smirked, glancing quickly at the child before shooting his gun at the side of Wayne Enterprises, clicking the side button and rocketing them up the side of the skyscraper. He heard a soft gasp over the rush of wind before his world was filled with small, uncontrollable giggles and Dick tightened his hold.

“We gotta meet up with someone, little one!” He cheerfully shouted back as the duo landed at the top of the tower. With his feet squarely against solid concrete, Dick set the child down to face away from the large drop off the side of the building. He was worried the kid would either get scared, or want to try jumping off and he wasn't sure which was worse right now. A quick glance around told Dick that Bruce was still doing his own patrol. “Just stay away from the edge, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the little sass monster said as they shakily walked towards the center of the helipad. “I’m not dumb.”

“Uh huh,” Dick sassed back as he hovered over the kid. “You wanna tell me your name yet?”

Cold eyes narrowed as the child looked up at Dick. “No, you’re still a weirdo.”

Yikes, Dick thought. Whoever this kid's parents were deserved an award for raising such a menace to society. “Okay, okay,” he said airly. “I’ll figure it out one day, just you watch.”

“Oh, so now you’re a stalker, too?” The kid said as they flopped onto the concrete flooring. “Maybe I should’ve run away. Stranger danger and all that nonsense.” They flapped an itty-bitty hand dismissively.

“I thought we established that I wasn’t a stranger already?” Dick wasn’t pouting. He was an adult, and adults don’t pout at children winning in a battle of sass.

“No, we just established that you don’t know what it looks like when people die. Do you even pay attention to anything?”

Dick rolled his eyes, sauntering over to nudge his foot against the kid's thigh. “I paid enough attention to notice that you're good at avoiding questions. Why is that?”

“Nunya,” they told him. Dick felt the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. No, he would not act like Bruce.

“Nope, I'm not playing that one,” Dick told the kid, who pouted that they couldn't finish the joke. “Come on, I can't keep calling you ‘kid’ or ‘that tiny child lighter than a grape’ now can I?”

They squinted at Dick, crossing their arms awkwardly since they seemed to refuse moving from their starfish position on the ground. “Rude. You talk to every kid you meet like that?”

Dick smirked, “Just the ones who think they’re tall enough to talk back? Where do you reach on me again?” Dick mimed checking the kid's height against himself and stopped with it below his knees. Was it petty to make fun of the small child’s height? Yes, but he didn’t care. “Oh right, sorry but you're not tall enough to verbally attack this adult.”

“Whatever,” they muttered, turning away from Dick. But he noticed the kid kept him within their peripheral vision, just enough of an angle to pretend they couldn't see Dick even if his every movement was being tracked by blue eyes. It was just like how Jason acted, back when he was first introduced to life in the manor. Luckily, that meant that Dick had more than enough experience with snotty scared children to make sure this one kept feeling safe around him.

“So,” Dick said after a few moments of silence. “Like I said earlier, we’re gonna be meeting up with someone. But what I didn't mention was that it's Batman.”

“What kind of name is that?” The kid said, their spunk seemingly reviving itself in the few minutes where they didn’t speak. “Who wakes up one morning and decides to name their kid things like Nightwing and Batman?”

Dick spluttered. “It’s a superhero name, kid. It’s meant to not be normal.”

“You should’ve been named Jeff. Now Jeff is a good name.”

Dick paused, scrunched his nose a little in confusion before responding. “So, do you want me to call you Jeff since you like it so much?”

The kid scoffed, not fully paying attention and obviously still insulting him mentally. “Pffsh, no, call me Danny because my name isn't Jeff, stupid.”

Dick smiled like the cat who ate the canary. “Well, well, Danny is such a nice name,” he told Danny. Dick was enjoying the expression on his face when he realized that he messed up, the horror seeping into his features and a devastated tilt to his lips as he turned to Dick. “Thank you for telling me, now is Danny short for anything?”

Danny pouted and it was so cute Dick wanted to coo and squish his little cheeks. “No, just Danny, you weirdo.”

“No last name?” Dick prodded, poking at Danny’s thigh.

“You’re subtle.”

“And you’re going to answer!” Dick cheerfully said, walking around to stand at the front of the black-haired boy.

“You can’t make me do anything,” Danny glared up at Dick, arms still crossed. “You’re not my dad.”

Dick wasn't sure why that comment stung unlike the others, but he moved past it. He scoffed obnoxiously and mimicked Danny's pose, jutting his hip out in a move of pure sass. “Well I may not be but–”

“Nightwing.”

Dick froze with whatever bullshit he'd pull out of his ass dying on his lips. He saw Danny raise a questioning eyebrow at the scene, clearly interested in the drama, but Dick didn't focus on it. Instead, like always, he responded to Batman's voice. It didn't matter he wasn't Robin anymore and someone else held the title, it didn't matter he was all grown up and had his own name now. When Batman called, a Robin always whistled back, standing at attention like the “good little soldiers” they were. 

Sighing, he turned around and put his hands behind his back, feet spread apart as he nodded at Batman. Because this wasn't his father figure, the man who raised him despite the emotional intelligence of an ant. This was Batman, who didn't take disappointment or inadequacy from his sidekicks. No matter what happens, we'll always be little soldiers reporting for duty, won't we?

“Batman, no unusual activity for the night. There were the two robberies I reported on patrol, as well as stopping a street girl from being taken into an alley and shot. Oracle has the recordings from my suit already uploaded for review.” Simple, to the point, just the way Bruce liked it. All done.

“Hrn.” 

What? What did he forget?

“Hey! Why do you go around with your underwear outside your pants like that?” Danny interrupted.

Oh…right, he forgot about Danny for a minute there.

The silence across the rooftop was louder than any words shouted into the night sky could be. Dick tensed as he shifted, covering more of Danny from Batman's view as he watched the man's cowl wrinkle up. Internally he winced, wishing he had honestly thought this out better but at the time, he had only been focused on gaining Danny's trust. Once he had it, something in him wouldn't let the kid go and, frankly, he didn't want to. But in hindsight, this was definitely not one of his best ideas. He snorted lightly, thinking Jason would have made fun of him for being an idiot right now–like the time he tried to catch a runaway ice cream cart and slipped into a pile of cold sugar that spilled on the ground instead.

“Why do you have a civilian child here, Nightwing?” Batman practically growled, causing Dick to frown and tense his shoulders in a defensive response. He knew the man had been having problems since Jason's death. Tim had been trying his best to help Bruce out of a dark place, but sometimes he seemed to fall back into those old, angrier patterns on them. It was not appreciated, but he knew it took time to work through grief. It was small mercies the man wasn't sending people to the hospital or himself into an early grave on the daily anymore.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, during my patrol I noticed a disturbance in an alley and–”

“He met me! So, why are you looking at Nightwing like he's a bad guy, Batman? Aren't you two friends?” Danny popped up at his side all of a sudden. Dick startled, quickly shooting a glance at where the boy had been five feet away and he wondered at how he didn't hear so much as a squeak until Danny spoke. “You shouldn't be mean to your friends,” he nodded sagely at his own words and Dick held in a snort of amusement. “That's what she always used to tell me.”

Dick paused. Danny hadn't mentioned anyone he knew before now. Ignoring Batman's glowering, he tilted his head down to catch Danny's eyes. But the kid was gazing past them both, the bright blue dulling in the throes of some kind of possible memory. Telegraphing his movements slowly, Dick lightly touched the tips of his fingers to Danny's shoulder and whispered his name. “Danny? You okay in there, bud?”

It took a moment for the kid to shake his head like an old, wet dog, blinking slowly and gazing back at Dick. He nodded, glancing down at his tiny hands as though they held all of the answers to the universe’ most difficult questions. “Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

“You spaced out there a little bit,” Dick carefully told him. He watched Danny’s eyebrow’s furrow and mentally debated pushing. He was curious if the child would open up to him a little despite the hulking bat furry standing behind him like a living shadow. Cautiously, he held his hand a little more firmly on Danny’s shoulder and asked him what he was wondering. “Danny, who is this ‘she’ you mentioned?”

“Uhh…” Danny stalled, titling his head and giving an awkward smile that was barely more than a tick of the lips and didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know?”

“Alright, kiddo.” Dick murmured, a bit disheartened hearing the response, but doing his best to not show it. He gave a sharp nod and turned his head to look at his mentor. “But, yeah, B he’s right. Shouldn’t you be nicer to me?”

“You’re endangering a child, Nightwing.” Batman growled, disapproval practically flowing off the man. It took years upon years for Dick to understand the different levels of Bruce’s inflections and what they meant, like learning a whole new language. But now? It was clear as day to him looking at the man. The big, bad bat was pissed and disappointed at his oldest protege’s actions. Dick tried to not let it hurt him (and show on his face) as much as it did.

But he also felt a flare of anger swell up in his chest. Indignant, Dick stepped forward, close enough to block Danny completely from Batman's sight and get in the Dark Knight’s face. “You want to talk about endangering children, B? You would know all about that, wouldn't you? Picking us up off the streets like party favors.” 

Dick shook his head, a scoff falling from his lips as his hands vibrated with the anger now burning his veins at the hypocrisy of the moment. A quick tug to his leg made him stumble though, and he almost fell when Danny barged past him. A cry on the tip of his tongue, Dick watched as the little tyke stomped over to Batman and crossed his tiny arms. 

“Hey! He may be a total weirdo, but Nightwing is really nice and he's been taking good care of me!” Danny pointed a finger at Batman and Dick realized with dawning horror and amusement that this child was lecturing B, for him. He felt his heart beat as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “So you stop bullying him right now!”

“Kid,” B started gruffly, reaching a hand to grab him, probably. But Danny smacked his gloved hand away and took a shaky step back. He stumbled over his feet closer to where a stunned Dick stood, gaping at the scene before him. 

“NO! I DON'T WANT YOU TO TOUCH ME, I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! HE'S NOT NICE!” Danny shouted at the top of his lungs, shaking arms firmly clung to either side of him. His body faced Batman, but his head was turned to a spot just over the man's shoulder. The kid started swaying side to side again, and Dick knew that tears were welling in Danny’s eyes even if he couldn’t see the boy’s face.

Dick scrambled forward, recognizing the signs from earlier. The vigilante caught the child in his arms and pulled out his grapple gun. “We will discuss this more later, at the Cave. But right now Danny is upset, so I'm going to take him to Agent A. For the rest of the night, you're on your own.”

He whispered comforting nonsense to the shaking, brooding child in his arms as he walked away and didn't look back. Not even when Danny heavily propped his chin on Dick's shoulder to keep an eye on Batman as they left. “What was all that about Danny? Who were you yelling at?”

Dick was sure Danny wasn’t talking to Bruce at that time, his head had been tilted too far to the left and he spoke as though he were talking about Bruce to someone else. But no one had been there. It made him a little concerned he might have something in his system and resolved to have Alfred examine him after they got some real food into Danny. 

Danny cut him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, not bothering to move his head’s position and smirked maliciously. If he didn't think everything about this kid was adorable, he'd probably be unnerved at the expression, paired with little baby fangs poking past his lips he hadn’t noticed earlier. Danny replied to him, but in a loud enough voice so that it would carry across the roof to where they left Bruce, no doubt standing guard as he watched them leave.

“I was talking to the ghosts that follow him, duh.”

[21teapot]

Arcane rant - Vis three rules to build trust and Caitlyns dynamic with Ambessa

**SPOILERS FOR ARCANE S2**

During the scene in the tent when Ambessa briefly talks to Vi after Caitlyn handed her off, we see Vi talk about how trust is build. I see a lot of posts saying Vi was just messing with Ambessa (and to tell her to shut the fuck up lol) before making her move but I think Vi wasn't just talking shit, but also (knowingly or unknowingly, though I'm leaning towards the latter) alluding to Caitlyns dynamic with Ambessa throughout act 2.

Be honest We see Caitlyn express her doubts to Maddie early in the second act, thinking about calling the attack off and being surprised that the military forces would stay so long. She's honest with her beliefs and thoughts and doesn't go full dictator as many (me included) thought she was going to when we were still waiting for act 2 to come out.

Be patient I think this is in Caitlyns very essence as a long distance sniper, biding her time and waiting for the right moment to strike, while observing everything calculative and alert, ready to soak up more information to make the best plan of offense.

Shut the fuck up (Be silent in the right moments) Whenever Caitlyn talks with Ambessa, she's always very careful in what she says and how she says it. We don't see her outright disagreeing or actively working against Ambessa, but instead keeping it just vague enough to not make her intentions 100 % clear. Caitlyn knows when to keep her mouth shut, shes a DETECTIVE and if you pay close attention to how cautious and calculative she behaves infront of Ambessa, it surprises me how anyone can think that her betrayal was sudden and just because of Vi calling her 'cupcake'.

Looking back, its pretty clear that Caitlyn never wanted this position of general. It was pushed onto her while she was put on the spot and couldn't say 'no'. The shocked expression, the hesitant demeanor, but simultaneously already calculating how she can best maneuver this impossible situation. Of course there was probably some part of her that welcomed this source of power, right after failing to kill the person she's been hunting down for weeks. But at heart I don't think Caitlyn has changed that much at all. Sure, she was swept away by her grief and anger when confronting Jinx, but we don't see her become the warlord Ambessa wanted her to be. She does everything in her power to not be needlessly cruel to Zaun while also keeping up appearances with Ambessa to not cause suspicion.

@hazelcallahan made a really good post about this and he sums up pretty much everything regarding Caitlyns betrayal of Ambessa, as well as why that betrayal was anything but sudden, so go check that out.

My first impression of Caitlyn in act 2 was very passive and that she didn't have that much agency during her supposedly own arc of being a general, but then I realized that this wasn't the case at all. Because Caitlyn was honest, patient and silent enough to gain Ambessas trust, she was able to strike at the right time to turn the tides and get out of this impossible situation.

So, coming back to Vis three rules of building trust: She's unknowingly mocking Ambessa about how she has been absolutely played by Caitlyn all along. And the look on Ambessas face right after makes the entire scene with taking this context into account fucking comical.

[kaliforniahigh]

fwb noah but he gets upset if you go on dates or talk to other people

fwb noah who swears up and fucking down that it's just a casual thing but you're his lockscreen and he's never, ever, forgotten a holiday with you

fwb noah who stalks your socials pretty regularly, and will text you like 🤨

Thank you so much for the request! I hope I made it justice :D

Warnings: fluff, mentions of throwing up, jealousy, Noah is a lovesick fool.

Requests are open! Please check the guidelines before requesting.

WC: 1.426

Your dinamic with Noah didn't really change that much. Years of friendship brought along the comfort you felt with each other. You slept on his bed countless of times and he slept on yours the same.

Whenever you were on a trip with the boys, you would always be assigned to room together. Or sit together on the plane and sit next to each other during meals. It's just the way it was. You like not having to order at restaurants because he already knows what you get in every single one of them.

So no one was really surprised when your friendship evolved to friends with benefits. He cared for you and you cared for him, now in more ways than one.

It was good, because you didn't have to worry about embarrassing yourself, you didn't have to worry about casual conversation or the awkardness of first dates and first kisses. You already knew each other too well for that.

You actually sat down to talk about this, to set boundaries and what not. You settled on some ground rules:

It can't interfere on your friendship.

You can't catch feelings.

You're exclusive in the sex department, but if you're going out with someone and you feel like you're gonna have sex with them, you give each other a heads up.

No jealousy.

Right now, you were just relaxing on the couch, Noah playing video games beside you, while you read your book. Your phone pinged beside you, alerting that a noticifcation has come through. Both Noah and you look at it, the little fire on the app icon catching his attention.

"You're on Tinder?", he asked you, pausing his game.

"Yeah? I though you knew", you just talked to people there. You knew you weren't going to find the love of your life on a dating app, but maybe a date or two couldn't hurt.

"You talking to someone there?", he went back to his game, trying to distract himself and look away from you, so you couldn't read his face.

"I've talked to a few people. Might go on a date next week actually", you said, nonchalantly, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. "Are you bothered?", you asked, when he didn't askwer you right away.

"No, of course not. You can go on dates, that's fine", he reassured you (and himself)

"You would tell me if it bothered you, right?", you didn't know if you wanted him to be bothered or not.

"There's not much I wouldn't tell you. You know that. Seriously, it's fine", you decided to trust him with that.

The days went by as usual. You observed Noah for any signs that he might be uncomfortable with you being on dating apps, but found none. He might actually not care about, or if he did care, he hid it very well.

When the night of your date came around, you were finishing getting ready, about to leave the door and drive to the restaurant. Your phone vibrated a few times on your purse as you were grabbing your keys. You pulled it out and looked at the screen, seeing texts from Noah.

Noah: I feel so sick :( Noah: I've trown up three times already. Noah: I actually feel a little dizzy right now.

He rarely felt sick, so this actually got you a little bit worried.

You: Maybe it was something you ate? Make sure to drink water. Noah: I don't know, I really don't feel well. You: Do you wanna go to the hospital? Noah: I don't think I need to. But I don't think I can get up from the bed. I feel weak. You: You want me to come over?

You sat down on your couch, waiting for his response and hoping it wasn't too late to bail on your date.

Noah: You have a date today, I don't wanna ruin it for you. You: It's ok, you need me right now. I'll be there in ten. I have the spare key.

Shooting the guy you were supposed to meet in a little bit a quick message, saying you wouldn't be able to make it and apologizing, you opened the door and made your way over to Noah's place.

Parking outside and making your way in, you called out his name, but only heard grunting in response. You went up to his room and found him laying on his bed, covered by a blanket. A lazy smile gracing his features when he saw you.

"How are you feeling?", you sat on the edge of his bed, putting your hand on his forehead to measure his temperature. He didn't feel warm or cold. That's a little better.

"Not very well. I don't know what could've happened", his voice was small, but not as rough as you would've expected for someone who threw up three times.

"Do you want me to lay with you?", you asked, rubbing his arm from atop the blanket.

"I don't want you catching whatever I have", he coughed a couple of times. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Do you have the flu or a stomach bug?", you aked him.

"I don't know. But it could be viral?", he made a puzzled face and you hummed.

"Well, I don't mind. I'm here, so we're gonna cuddle a bit. Scootch over", you could see a little smile playing on lips.

Once you were settled on the bed, with your head on his chest and his arms around your shoulders, you hear him ask you "did you cancel your date?"

"Yeah, I did. Don't worry, we'll reschedule it", your voice was a little muffled by the blanket and his hoodie.

"Ok", his answer was simple, but you knew him enough by now to know that something was definetely off. You had a feeling about what it could be, but now you were sure. You weren't even looking at him and you could hear the smile on his face.

"Hold on", you lifted your head, quick enough to see him changing his smiley face to one of false sickness. "You didn't lie about being sick just so I would cancel my date, did you?"

"What? No! I would never do that", he made a face of false indignation.

"Then let me take you to the hospital", you started to get up, but he held your arm back, making you plop down on him again.

"No! You don't have to do that. I'm already feeling better. See?" he moved his hands in the general direction of his body.

"No, thowing up three times can't be good. You're probably very sick, some IV fluids would do you some good", you laid it on thick, in hopes he would finally admit to it. But you weren't expecting his next move, because seconds after saying this, you felt his hand grip the back of your neck, bringing your lips together in a kiss. You melted immediately into his body, pressing your chests together.

"See? I'm totally better", he said, not moving his lips too far away from yours.

"Noah, we need to talk about this", you whispered back.

"No, we don't. I just wanted you here with me. Nothing wrong with that", you felt butterflies at his words, specially since you were so close together, and he felt so warm and firm underneath you.

"So it wasn't because I was going out on a date?", you pried.

"Maybe a tiny little bit", he looked a little guilty now, but you didn't have the chance to call him out on it, because he kept going "I don't like the idea of another man having you the way that I get to have you"

You tried to not clench your thighs together.

"I know we agreed on not catching feelings and being jealous, but I'm starting to hate the fact that I can't call you mine. Or introduce you to people as my girlfriend. I don't want you to be someone I just mess around with. You're so much more than that"

You didn't know you needed to hear those words until he said them. Suddenly you understood why you two just felt so good together. Why everyone else didn't compare to how he made you feel. Why you dropped that date the second he needed you.

"I have an idea about how you could make me yours", you said, a little grin on your face.

"Oh, I plan on doing that the whole night. But first I need you to delete that goddamn app on your phone", he reached for your phone on the bed side table, as you laughed on his chest.

If you'd like to request something, please check the request guidelines!

[misstycloud]

Night sounds

A loud thud woke you from your slumber and you jolted up right. What was that? You wondered. Scared that it might be an indtruder breaking in, you turned to the side of the bed to alert your husband. Only to notice he wasn’t there.

His spot was empty and when you felt the sheets, it was cold, meaning he left a while ago. Confused and even more frightened, you pull the covers towards your chest.

“Riddle..?” You anxiously whispered.

Then, the sounds of fast footsteps approaching echoed throughout the house. Your body entered a state of panic when you realised they were coming closer to your position, the bedroom.

Thump, thump, thump!

Heart racing and blood rushing in your ears, you throw yourself at the bedside table lamp and turn the switch in a frenzy.

The sudden fear disinigrated the moment you saw the intruders face. Though it was no intruder, at all. It was your damn husband!

“What the fuck.” You clasped your hand over your heart, feeling the erratic beat. Glancing back up at the man you promised to cherish and love until death, you only felt irritation building.

You were not happy over his little night scare.

Riddle knelt down beside you and cupped your face, making you want to shrug him off.

“Oh I’m so sorry, my love, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He apologised over and over.

“Don’t do that again, I though someone had broken in!” You scowled while crossing your arms.

If you hadn’t still been shaken up, perhaps you would have noticed the way your husband’s eyes darkned at the sentence. He grabbed you by the shoulders and stared at you seriously. “Don’t worry. There is no chance anyone will ever be able to get into this house, not as long as I’m still alive.”

“Yeah, whatever. But what were you even doing? It’s-“you took a glance at the clock”-three in the morning.”

While stroking your cheeks affectionately, he explained, "I was getting some water. I didn't mean to scare you."

You looked passed his frame into the dark hallway and asked, "what was that sound just now? Did you drop something?" Riddle turned your head back to him.

"I accidentally knocked a lamp over, nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep, dear. I'll just go and clean up." He planted a kiss on your forehead and tucked you back in again after you nodded, deciding sleep was more important. You still had to go to work in the morning after all.

You nuzzled into the covers and quickly fell asleep once more, with the thought of your lovely husband plaguing you. You were very lucky indeed to have a man love and cherish you as much as Riddle does. One doesn't come across a man like him often. Maybe you should pay him back some time in the future.

As you dreamed on, you had no idea of the cold expression tracing your husband's features, smile long gone. He closed the door softly behind him, satisfied when hearing a click. 'That was close', he thought while walking down the stairs. 'I can't let this happen again. Didn't think that pest would be so loud.'

Entering the living room, he stopped by a table, observing the ornament placed on it. Riddle sighed, 'now i have to ruin this pretty lamp.'

-----------

What's this? Sus noises in the middle of the night, but dont worry. Your husband is here to protect you.

[spideyhexx]

I see Snow seeing Sejanus using sweet nicknames and him trying it with reader. But when Snow does tries it comes across as awkward and forceful, almost

You’re so right!

I think when the three of you are intimate together the sweet names roll off of his tongue with more ease but in any other setting (at least in the beginning of this relationship), Coryo sounds super awkward with it.

Coryo is such a good observer, so of course he picks up on the fact that Sej is almost always using something like, 'sweetheart,' or 'my dear,' or 'honey,' when talking to you. And as his own affection and feelings grow for you and you even call him some sweeter names, he decides he should try it out.

But he'd force it, saying something like, "how was lunch my dear?" and it's a random question, a few hours after lunch and you probably wouldn't criticize him for it, just give him a little look of confusion and a chuckle then respond.

You'd find it endearing too, how when he's sleepy and fucked out in your bed, 'baby,' rolls off his tongue like honey, but when he's alert and you're simply just living your lives together, it's like every bone in his body resorts back to being awkward and stiff.

It would be something unspoken though, both you and Sej know he embarrasses easily, so you'd let him keep trying and lean more into it when it does eventually feel normal and natural.

let's chat about coryo, sej, or both, here :)

[shibaraki]

BITE INHIBITION ┊ CHOSO

tags: GN reader, no curse au, human reader, vampire choso, bites (aphrodisiac effects), drinking of blood, creatures and monsters aren’t widely known, sexual tension, kissing, ambiguous relationship

wc: 1.3K

Above, you note that pinpricks of light are beginning to show behind rust-edged clouds as the sky darkens.

You inhale.

The hug of old houses act as sentries to the alleyway. A narrow space covered by a canopy of vivid neon signs, washing the darkened surroundings in a red-yellow glow. It’s crowded. There’s nothing unnatural about the scene in front of you, just everyday people gathered for drinks to wind down after work, and yet knowing what—and who—could be hiding amongst them has you on high alert.

You exhale. With resolve you begin to weave through the throngs of tipsy salarymen. They slur apologies and obscenities and stumble at your intrusion. Your eyes scan their flushed, slack faces, unsure what it is you expect to find there. Something fearsome and monstrous and unfamiliar.

“In here”.

Ice coils around your wrist. You yelp as you’re tugged aside and pulled through a pair of curtains hung across a dim-lit doorway. Immediately, as if stepping into an entirely different world, the noise lowers into a pleasant din. You land against a solid surface and start to squirm.

“Be calm. It’s me. Are you alright?”

Hushed and gentle, Choso’s breath puffs right against your ear. A plush lower lip brushes the delicate shell. You shiver, and in realising he is holding you to his chest, your heartbeat ricochets—blood rushes to the surface of your skin, heat slipping in the cracks between capillaries, and when his fingers dig deeper into your hip you know he can sense it.

“Yeah—I’m alright. Nobody followed me,” you reply, making no effort to extract yourself from him. “Give me some warning next time. Fucking hell”.

He kisses your temple in lieu of an apology.

Choso is deathly cold. You can feel it under his simple, loose clothing. Today he’s wearing a t-shirt with a low collar and dark jeans, fitted around his thighs and his ankles, paired with laced up heavy duty boots. Unfairly handsome. You know well enough that the absence of warmth has nothing to do with his lack of layers. And despite that absence, you burrow closer as though he were a hearth.

Choso tenses beneath your casual affection, hands intermittently flexing before he ultimately decides to keep you close while guiding you deeper into the building. This was not your usual meeting place. From what you can discern it is just another izakaya—or at the very least, it’s masquerading as one. The waitstaff doesn't so much as bat an eyelid at Choso as he whisks you through the main seating area to the few private rooms in the back.

“Are you sure it’s safe to do it here?”

There’s little detail about the small space but it is cosy. You’re pliant as you allow him to usher you in and recline you into the plush couch cushions. “Yes. We won’t be disturbed,” he says, tone needlessly quiet.

The air around you feels unusually charged today. Trepidation prickled at your nape. You observe while he perches beside you with a darting-rabbit expression and arch your brow. Loose strands of dark hair slip forward to frame a pale face. Paler than usual, a shard of moonlight. The black markings that extend over the bridge of his nose have begun to bleed outside the lines and his irises are ivory-red, thin bands around dilated pupils.

“Choso…” you murmur with realisation. You reach to touch him and he flinches, shaking under the effort of his restraint. Your fingers snaked into his hair, a tangle of silky, black strands. The long spill of it slips through your knuckles and back over his shoulders. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“There wasn’t any need,” Choso’s eyelids shutter, feline how he turns into the tender caress. “I have endured worse than this,” he replies.

“That hardly matters. You shouldn’t starve yourself. You’re shaking with it—”

Any further admonishment you might’ve had is immediately cloven to the back of your teeth as his nose bumps the heel of your hand. His lips part against your wrist and he inhales deeply. He groans. A crease forms in his brow, pinched in helpless desire.

“Not because I’m starving. Because of you,” he says. “I promised to pace myself with you but I needed…” there’s a sort of mindless drawl to his words. Lost in your scent, and in the healthy beat of your pulse. “Everything else tastes so dull in comparison”.

Arousal lances through you at the first sweep of his tongue. You press your thighs tight and he shudders, a soft whine pulled from his throat. “Choso,” you whisper.

“I’m sorry,” and you hear the true meaning behind it. It’s preemptive. It’s a warning.

Choso gives a chaste kiss to your wrist. Then his fangs are splitting open the skin there like soft fruit. His frame shuddered as he drew a deep gulp. The pain is fleeting, a sharp pierce that dwindles into muted pleasure. You slump as his larger body cages you against the cushions to suck and bite and take his fill of you.

Around you the room turns rosy, and then shadowed, and then dark. Your shallow breaths come faster and the tendrils of want curling low in your belly are stark. They thaw the ice spreading outward from your chest and keep you in a state of oscillating bliss. Choso hums, then huffs through his nose as a thin stream of blood leaks to the crook of your elbow. Tendon and sinew, you lazily watch him unlatch from the fount of your wrist to chase it with his tongue, laving a wet stripe up your forearm.

The markings on his face have receded. His lashes flutter, framing elderberry eyes. His lips are rouge, rough—rivulets have seeped into the cracks between his teeth and stained his gums red. It should scare you. Had it been anyone else it might’ve; yet you find him beautiful like this.

Though sensation is subsequently returning to your throbbing wound, the discomfort comes second to your need to have him closer. You cup the back of his head, too weak to apply any meaningful pressure, but that alone is enough for him to understand. Choso dips forward. He kisses you, wet and sticky with congealed blood. He sips at your mouth, firmly, but petal-soft as not to draw more blood.

You arch into him, trying desperately to display your enthusiasm while having none of the energy for it. Choso hums and lavishes you with a leisurely pace, licking past the seam of your lax lips before drawing back. At your plaintive whine he smiles, trailing fingertips over your chin.

You sigh as his thumb swipes the blood that is no doubt smeared across your skin, “Did you make a mess?”

“I made a mess,” he echoes fondly. Then his focus drifts to the closed door. “You should eat too”.

You follow his line of sight, remembering that there are people behind it, sharing meals of their own, none the wiser. Your head lolls against your shoulder, conceding. “Your turn to feed me,” you tell him.

His smile widens a fraction. Blood or no, the gleaming pride and self-satisfaction on his face makes Choso look eighteen and thirty six all at once while being close to neither.

“I’d love to”.