#but where's the fun in that when you could be chased down dark alleys by police?

[verysium]

blue lock boys as assassins (au i guess?), i hope you could include Oli, Yuki and Barou!

anon you have me at crossroads because the very idea of an assassin AU spawns an infinite glitch of possibilities....🤔 like mafia underground syndicate assassin? or like solitary mysterious hitman type of assassin? or even better could this be ninja/shinobi stealth warrior assassin? i'm going give a general description though:

oliver is the laid-back good guy. escorts you to the bar, drinks on him. claps every passerby on the back as if he personally knows them. you think he's alright. not too handsome and just the right amount of ruggedness. he offers you a good time, so you two hit off for the night. and that's where everything starts to go downhill. one shoot-out, intense knife fight, and grueling police chase later, you pant for dear life against the side of a brick wall in some torn up alley because it turns out your one-night stand was actually an assassin for japan's largest underground syndicate.

you grip your broken heel tightly in one hand, body collapsed against the brick cornerstone as you seethe, the condensation of your gasping breath forming tendrils in the cold night. you reach up a hand to wipe the sweat off your face. it comes back red, the meticulous hours of applying your makeup wasted when you see the damning smears of lipstick. this was not the type of fun you signed up for on a friday night.

"oliver, what the fuck was that?"

he laughs sheepishly, cocking his gun back with ease before he lights up a cigarette, palm cupping the flame. he turns, then walks over two bodies without blinking, suede shoes clicking against the cobblestone. you're angry at him, but he doesn't care, wrapping an arm around your waist, nose buried in your hair.

"just a side hustle, sweetheart. come on, let's get you home."

yukimiya is the sweet, unassuming literature student. he came home from university to help his grandmother out over the summer, manning the front counter of her antique oddities shop. you like him. he's awkwardly charming, a little too zealous for the job, but still endearingly kooky. you have him pinned down as the sad poet type. the kind of person who wears the same knitted cardigan every day, complete with horn-rimmed glasses and 1940's gingham elbow patches. he can handwrite a sonnet in less than a minute, gift-wrap your purchases in record time. you let him buzz around you while you make your daily visit to his shop, listening to him talk about the collections of radioactive glassware, the vintage phonograph in the corner, and the rare edition of Gutenberg bibles sitting silently in the old book section.

"you know, you really don't have to do that."

he peers up at you owlishly, dark brow furrowed before you point out the spool of twine in his hand, the way he's carefully folding the newspaper around the edges of the new vase you purchased. he laughs, shrugging off your concerns with a wave. you catch a brief whiff of his cologne, the subtle scent of mint and toluene. maybe a hint of vanillin too.

"don't worry about it miss! gift-wrapping is a free service. i'll even add two complimentary trinkets if you'd like. we have a clearance section that's been slow to sell. you could even take a few for free."

"i'm alright. thanks for the offer though." he nods, fingers delicately tying a bow before he places your vase in a bag, fluffing up the tissue paper on top. you smile to yourself when you see the intricate lettering of the card he snuck in. must've been another one of the love poems he wrote. you know how the saying goes.

roses are red. violets are blue.

by the time you step out the shop, the door chime twinkles in the distance, a peal of bells to signal your departure. from behind the windows and glass paneling, he watches your figure trail down the sidewalk, winter coat fluttering in the wind. his eyes darken beneath the tortoiseshell frame, finger moving down the yellowed pages of his accounting book before crossing off another name. he doesn't even look up when he hears the loud honking and screams, the sound of a body hitting the pavement.

one is dead, and so are you.

barou is probably the most obvious one. very upfront about the work he does. the only caveat is that you can never trace his work back to him. he cleans up way too well. always shoots his targets through the eye because it's less of a mess that way. leaves absolutely no evidence at the murder scene. i picture you as one of the unfortunate victims caught up in the fray. collateral damage, as he likes to call it.

"you know, i've never met someone so equally stubborn and stupid."

you glare at him, throat sore and aching as you scream through your gag, cursing him out in every language in existence. he merely stares down at you, arms crossed and eyebrow arched in amusement. you struggle for a good minute, flopping around like a fish as you try to free yourself from your bonds. how the hell do you go from taking an errand trip to the grocery store to getting kidnapped and tied up in a man's trunk?

"what's that? couldn't hear you from all the noise."

god, you want to strangle him. you heave a breath, swallowing the bitter taste of your own spit when he finally unties the gag, your lungs gasping for air.

"i said...you think i'm the stupid one? you're the one who tied me up!"

"because you wouldn't stop squealing like a pig."

"you were trying to kill me!" he snorts derisively at your comment, his red eyes piercing and haughty. the loud thump of the trunk door closing reverberates throughout the parking garage before you find yourself face first on the pavement, body dumped unceremoniously on the ground. he looks down at you dismissively, wiping the dust off his hands.

"nah, i'd save myself the hassle."

your eyebrow twitches in irritation, jaw dropping at that violation. oh, it was personal now. he deserved capital punishment. strangling would be too merciful. you try to get back on your feet, a task that proves all the more difficult with your legs bound and arms twisted behind your back. he merely waits, as if knowing when you'd finally give up, sinking at his feet in defeat.

"you done?" you nod your head, slumping down into the concrete. your voice becomes small and sheepish by the time you raise your face to look at him.

"can't you just...let me go? i promise i won't say anything." he rolls his eyes, swinging you over his shoulder in one fell swoop, locking the car with a resounding beep. you start to panic when you feel him carrying you to the garage exit, vision swirling with nothing but concrete and the solid sound of his combat boots.

"wait....wait! i swear to god! please just let me go. i won't tell a soul."

"nope. can't have any witnesses." you feel a handkerchief come up at engulf your nose and mouth, the sweet smell cloying and sharp. you start to squirm in his arms.

"wait! no...please! if you touch me again, i'll scream." his grin is the last thing you see in the darkness, sharp canines brushing against the shell of your ear.

"oh, you'll do so much more than scream, darling."

[tojisbbygworl]

Just Hungry - Vampire!Sukuna x Reader - Halloween Special

He knows that if he were human, those chocolate brown eyes would have sent him into cardiac arrest. Your full lips wrapped around his dick would have made him fall to his knees. You cute moans and pet names for him would have done him in good. He would have kissed you passionately, and told himself he wasn’t going to let anyone have this pussy. And he would have gotten that. He can see you wanted the same.

Naïve girl.

Tags: 18+, Smut, Public Sex, Cunnilingus, Blood Play kinda, Slight Angst, Sukuna Is An Asshole, Kinda Dark tbh

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author's note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! Idky I just got the urge to write something for Halloween like I'm really in the Halloween spirit yall. So this is the result of that. I thought of it like a few days ago so I hope it's not too shitty lmaoooo Okay, enjoy!

There was something in the air that told him he was in for a meal tonight.

The wind was cold and uninviting, not that it bothered him. No, what was bothersome was that it was chasing many potential snacks indoors where it was warm. At least it didn’t stop any revealing costumes, these humans so desperate for attention and approval that it left them more than susceptible to his insatiable hunger.

Sukuna has made barrages of friends and acquaintances alike over the past 1000 years. This centuries group were party animals. It didn’t worry him that he couldn’t snatch a cute little thing off the street and drain her dry in an alley, the white haired one would find an event for them no doubt. He would just have to hunt there.

Halloween was undoubtedly his favorite holiday. He thoroughly enjoyed dressing up and schmoozing his way into someone’s good graces enough for them to let him pull them away into a secluded area. Of course, he could always compel, but where’s the fun in that?

And from the looks of it, he was going to have a lot of it tonight.

You were the only Daphne he’d seen tonight, and the cutest by far. Your real hair was dyed a blood orange, which added to how nice the costume was. He could tell from how loosely you were dancing, that you’ve had quite a few drinks and maybe something to smoke. He was going to continue scoping the scene before he made his decision, but the two of you locked eyes with each other. He thought there was no way you could see him well, but you looked him up and down, then turned back around to your friends.

You had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

Maneuvering through the crowd came easy. His large stature commanded space and anyone who didn’t understand that was simply moved. You would look back at him occasionally and he could smell the fear dripping off of you as he approached you. But, you didn’t stop dancing. In fact, you invited him with your eyes. He smirked, then grabbed your waist.

Fuck, you were making him hard. He pressed his growing erection against your short skirt. You gasped quietly. He heard your heart go a mile a minute. Your blood would be nice to sip on. And you smell so sweet when you’re dripping with arousal.

He pushed off of you almost as quickly as he pulled you into him then left into the crowd. You didn’t stay on the dance floor for long after that. He pretended not to notice, but he could see you meandering about, trying to cross his vision and hiding it as mingling. He bet you didn’t even know most of the people here.

He humored you for a bit, then he decided that he’d had enough of waiting for his meal. He caught eyes with you and watched as you jerked up in shock and turned around. He finished his drink and followed after you.

He didn’t feel you deserved a respectful greeting. The both of you were alone in the corridor where it was a bit quieter. He whistled. You turned around, like a good little pet. He beckoned you with his index finger. You came waltzing back down to him, eager for some attention.

You were too quick to leave with him for your friends to even get a word in. It doesn’t matter, they would never see him again. Maybe even you, depending on how sweet you tasted.

Aww, you poor, sweet, thing. Those girls in the party were the only people you knew here, you moved to this town only a couple months ago. You were so scared to come out to this party and hated being left alone. He wonders why you were so willing to be left alone with him. Maybe you were just another human whore.

You said that you trusted him. Ah. No. You were just naïve.

He loved the way your pupils shrunk when he grabbed your arm just a little tighter and piled you against his body. He took your hand and put it on his hard dick. “See what you did to me?” He didn’t even need to compel you, you were so entranced by his voice.

“I can fuck you wherever you want,” he continues, already reaching to pull off your clothes. It was the middle of the night on the city streets. Eventually, a car would pass. “Choose quickly or I’ll fuck you out here so everyone can see you.”

In your panic, you looked towards an alley way. You didn’t even look back as you grabbed his hand and began to drag him there. That was a personal favorite  for him. Easy cover, easy to dump a body if necessary.

He wasted no time pushing you face first against the wall and pulling your bottoms down. He kneeled down and planted his face in between your thighs. His tongue took one long lick from your clit and into your dripping pussy. You were fucking delectable. And the squeal you made left him starving for more.

It didn’t hurt that you were certainly one of the prettier humans he’d selected for dinner as well. He knows that if he were human, those chocolate brown eyes would have sent him into cardiac arrest. Your full lips wrapped around his dick would have made him fall to his knees. You cute moans and pet names for him would have done him in good. He would have kissed you passionately, and told himself he wasn’t going to let anyone have this pussy. And he would have gotten that. He can see you wanted the same.

Naïve girl.

Sukuna felt nothing as he thrusted into you, your back against the brick wall, legs around his torso. Your “yes daddy” and your “fuck that feels so good” does nothing for him. It’s not just that he’s heard it all before. You’re a human. You are inferior to him.

You should be writhing in pleasure when he fucks you. There’s no other man on Earth that could give you better dick than him. But there are billions of others just like you. Why bother?

Even as your eyes fill with tears as you cum all over him for the umpteenth time, he feels nothing. When he’s finally spent and he cums inside of you, he feels nothing. It’s only when he finally gets his reward, taking advantage of your debilitated state, and plunges his teeth into your damp neck that he feels satisfaction.

But then, you moan.

He stops and looks at you, a drop of blood running down his lip. You look almost drunk, the. You blink a few times and tense up. You must have been embarrassed. You had no reason to be. It was the sexiest thing you had done all night.

He leans back down slowly, and licks at the wound he made. You shudder in his hold and he bends his leg in between yours. Like the good fucking slut you are, you start to rock on his thigh getting more and more loose as he sucks on you.

You taste so fucking good right now. And you sound like a goddess. He can’t believe this turns you on. He wants this more. He thinks he needs it. Maybe…he’ll keep this human? Just…as a pet. Fuck, you sound too good to let go. He needs more of your blood. More of you. He grips your entire body in his large arms, groaning into you as his mouth drops red.

Sukuna doesn’t notice how long the two of you stayed that way, but you eventually go quiet and start to give out, and he finds himself carrying you in his arms with his head deep in your neck. Sukuna lifts his head up and sighs. He blinks a bit, his vision unusually out of focus. He catches his breath the looks down at you.

You were alive, but you were passed out. The only injury on you were his teeth marks. Those would heal. 

Or not. He truthfully couldn’t give any less of a fuck.

He stands up, turns around, and walks further into the dark alley leaving you on the ground for someone else, or something else, to find.

You were an interesting one. But, he got his fill. He was just hungry.

[friendlyneighorhoodchaosdemon]

Catharsis | Adrian Chase

this fic is race/ hair type/ body type neutral; why does that matter? If you feel I’ve overlooked something in regard to this, no matter how “small”, please let me know!

@stealsteels threatened to BEAT ME UP (real) if I didn't post this so I'm doing it.

(…in all seriousness, thank you for all of your encouragement, it truly means the world ♡)

word count | 5.1k (woof)

warnings/ notes | 18+, fluff/ smut; clit rubbing/ fingering, spanking, vibrators, kink discovery/ exploration, trusting and communicating with your partner (hot), service top Adrian, masochistic reader/ sadistic Adrian if you squint. I don't write piv :)

as noted, this contains spanking. It is of course fully consensual, something reader explicitly asks for and (most importantly) NOT a punishment, but I realize it still isn’t everyone's thing, so please be mindful.

also this is incredibly self indulgent and tbh maybe a little out of character, and turned out a lot fluffier and domestic that I intended.

ao3

minors/ ageless blogs please respect my wishes and do not interact with my work/ blog. I will block you :)

You hear him before you see him. A double shift at Fennel Fields followed by hours of shooting a bunch of appliances in the woods with Chris and he still careens into your apartment with all the intensity and finesse of a hurricane. The endless amount of energy he seemed to have was sometimes baffling, and while it was usually fun to have your own personal Energizer bunny around (especially in bed), sometimes you really envied it. 

You especially envy it on days like today when you felt like you could barely drag yourself through a comparatively low stakes and low effort day.

That feeling doesn’t last long though, because as soon as he toes his shoes off (a task that takes significantly longer than it should because he refuses to untie his laces, insisting that it’s faster even though it clearly isn’t) and rounds the corner into the kitchen, he shoots you his signature smile and you instantly feel that warmth you only seem to feel around him. 

Shoes successfully removed, he ambles over to where you stand in front of the stove, fanning yourself as you lower the heat of the burner. Strong arms instinctively find their way around your waist and he nuzzles into your side, dropping tiny kisses to your cheek. Said kisses are, of course, mostly a means of distraction so that he can reach around you to grab the spoon you'd been stirring with and stick the entire thing in his mouth, but it’s still cute enough to earn him a few kisses in return.

You return to stirring (with a new spoon), humming your replies as he launches into his recap of the day’s events. The recaps are rarely linear (sometimes they're not even coherent), so by now you’re used to the way he flip flops between how crazy the recoil from Chris' Desert Eagle was (“I mean yeah okay, I shot it without his permission, but holy shit babe that thing is crazy! Maybe I should get one. I mean when you think about it it’s actually kind of weird that we don’t have matching guns. Do you think he would think that was weird? If I got the same gun as him?”), to how he’d broken a guy's kneecaps after he'd caught him pushing his girlfriend into a wall in a dark alley, to how some other guy had actually proposed at Fennel Fields (“but don’t worry babe, when I propose it’ll be somewhere way nicer. Like at least  Olive Garden or better.”)

The last bit earns him an eye roll and a nudge to the ribs, but you still can’t help the grin that pulls at your lips.

With dinner done, he finally disentangles himself from you to grab the plates and silverware and plops down in front of the tv. Tonight you’re finishing up the latest season of Barry (a show he finds hilarious, more for the gore than the actual comedy), but the second you take your seat next to him his arms immediately find their way around your middle. 

“You know you can’t eat if you’re holding me, right?” you question, arching an eyebrow at him.

Undeterred, he pulls you even tighter, insisting that he “totally can though!”

“I’ve mastered the art. See, look,” He demonstrates said “mastery” by pulling you into his chest and bringing his plate around so that it sits on his open palm in front of you. He grins down at you, hopeful you’ll just ignore the high likelihood of pasta sauce spilling down your front with one wrong move. You pat his cheek and shake your head no, moving to separate your bodies. He pouts, truly pouts at you and once again find yourself unable to hide your smile. 

“Okay okay, what about if you lay down on my chest and I put my plate on your back?” 

“Then how would I eat?” 

He ponders this for a second until you see another lightbulb go off.

“Okay, what about you sit in my lap and hold your plate and I-”

“I swear, if you suggest putting your plate on my head...”

“You didn’t let me finish!” 

Another skeptical look before you sigh and motion for him to finish.

“...But yes I was going to say that.”

The way he seems to so desperately want this to work is perhaps a little annoying, but mostly very cute and endearing. Another eye roll makes it clear that his request is out of the question, and he’ll, for the time being, have to settle for eating like a normal person.

You turn your attention back to the screen just in time to see a guy's brains splatter as he gets shot in the head point blank. Despite the fact that you know about Adrian’s propensity for violence, it still gets to you and you wince. He pulls you tightly into his side, rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder and you settle into his touch, muttering your thanks into his sweatshirt and pressing a grateful peck to his chin. You sigh contentedly and press your face into his side and your eyes drift closed as you inhale his scent.

A bark of laughter jolts you awake. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but sure enough when you look up the credits are rolling. You yawn and stretch, craning your neck to look up at him and he seems to immediately sense your stare. He smiles that smile, the one that’s sweet like his normal one but also not, doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he’s thinking about something not so sweet, and the proof of what he exactly he's thinking is now pressing up against you. You turn to face him fully, taking in his lopsided smile and the slight splotchy blush creeping over his neck and plant a small teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Obviously this isn’t enough for him, and he leans over to gently grab the back of your neck and pulls you to him. The kiss is… kind of a lot, to be honest, but most things with Adrian are. Overeager as always he wastes no time licking along the seam of your mouth, asking for entry. You don't oblige him, not yet, opting to tease him instead as you nip his bottom lip.

You hug him closer, feeling the muscles in his back flex under your touch as he tilts your head to the side to suck at the skin of your neck. You move to straddle him but he's already getting impatient and makes a frustrated sound as he grips your thighs and pulls you the rest of the way into his lap. With you seated fully on top of him, he moves one hand to your hip to hold you solidly in place while the other snakes up under your shirt. Adrian is rarely smooth and tonight is no exception. His hands move over you as if he's unsure where to go or where to stop, touching you like it's the first time. They ghost over your stomach and up between your breasts before finally settling on your ass in a nice firm hold.

He finally frees your neck, laving sloppy kisses over your tender skin before pulling away completely. The momentary loss of contact is enough for you to come back to your senses and you push lightly against his chest.

“Hi.” Hi? You scoff at yourself. Great start. 

You have no idea why you’re feeling so self-conscious all of a sudden, especially when he's looking at you like that.

The way he noticeably focuses when you have something to say, absorbing your every word is endearing but sometimes it also feels so intense. Especially now, when he’s sitting here, half hard underneath you, eyes growing wide and curious under his large frames.

You gather yourself and clear your throat.

“I uh, I actually wanted to talk about something. To ask you something, actually. I mean, we obviously don’t have to do it tonight, or do anything tonight. I mean I know you’ve had a really long day so I don’t want you to feel obligated to do it tonight, or at all even, if you don't want to. I don’t even know if it’s something you’d be interested in so, no pressure, obviously.” 

You’re way too aware of the fact that you’re rambling, which is typically more of an Adrian thing than a you thing, but despite (or maybe because of) your awareness, you can’t seem to stop. The words just keep tumbling out, and now you’re getting flustered and a little bit annoyed with yourself, in large part because it's Adrian for Christ's sake. He's never judged you for your desires and you know it's not in his nature. Even now he just sits there, ignoring his own arousal, patiently waiting for you to get the words out, tracing comforting (albeit distracting) shapes against the tops of your thighs. In spite of all this you still struggle with simply just saying what you want– what you need. You take another breath.

"I want…" 

You had what felt like the most supportive partner in the world, so why did this feel so fucking hard?

He nods, squeezing your sides, encouraging you to continue. “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I'll give it to you.” 

"I, uh, I want you to spank me." You hold your breath, gauging his reaction carefully.

He immediately perks up at this and just like that, you’re at ease again. Not even a hint of the hesitation or confusion (or even worse, judgment or disgust) you’d dealt with the few times you’d brought it up with previous partners. Not even the well meaning (but kind of annoying) "I don't want to hurt you" you'd come to expect. Then again, this is Adrian, your Adrian, and now you’re wondering why you were even worried in the first place. 

Then again, it wasn't like this was exactly a shocking revelation. Adrian already knew you liked some pain and he’d been more than happy to give you the occasional playful spank before, in and out of the bedroom. Even though what you're asking for now was much different, his reaction is a huge relief.

For his part, he sits there, fucking beaming at you. His eyes drift to your lips again, tongue sneaking out to lick his own as he leans in to nip at you this time. For a moment he lingers, like he can’t decide whether he wants to kiss you or move back down to your neck. He goes with the former, pulling you into a searing kiss. You don’t consider yourself the type to get easily flustered, but fuck if he isn’t literally taking your breath away right now. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, payback for earlier, and you gasp. His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck again, squeezing just the tiniest bit. You know he's barely using any of his strength and that knowledge makes you shudder.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

You laugh, “I um…” To be honest, you kind of hadn’t really put much thought into logistics and the kiss wasn't making it any easier to think.

You don’t have to flounder for too long though, because now that you’ve put the idea into his head, he’s running with it. 

“Want me to bend you over the couch?” 

Another thing most people don’t know about Adrian, and you’re thankful for this, is how… focused he can be. Especially when properly motivated.

“Or I could put you over my lap. Get you nice and relaxed and just… help get all the tension out. Would you like that? Hm?” Hia hands have drifted back to your ass and he pinches it now to emphasize his point, making you yelp.

You can tell how excited he’s getting both by the way he continues to ramble and by the way he’s started to absentmindedly rut up against you. You don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it because he’s still talking, seemingly completely unaware.

“Maybe we should get a paddle. I’d love to see your ass jiggle when I hit it with a paddle. Fuck, do you have one? Should we get one right now? Or a riding crop. Or- what are those things with all the tassels?”

“Adrian, do you really want to buy a flogger right now? Or do you want to take me to bed?"

“Right, right.” Without warning, he stands and you do your best to cling to him as he makes his way to your bedroom. From this position it’s harder to grind against him, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. You press your lips against the long column of his throat, moving up from his Adam’s apple to kiss behind his ear. You move back down and up again, repeating the action on the other side. He groans, deep and guttural and filthy, and you think it’s the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Stopstopstop, you’re distracting me!” He huffs, cutely, like he really has the audacity to be annoyed right now.

You grin into his neck, unable to stop yourself from softly nibbling his ear.

He places you down on the bed, crawling over you to kiss down your neck and you arch into him, hands sliding down his chest, toned muscles apparent despite the thick material of his sweatshirt, before reaching his waistband. You move to tug them down, desperate to feel him in your hands but he quickly grabs both your wrists and holds them above your head. He pulls back to look at you, smiling a very different smile now.

You try in vain to tug your wrists free, whining for him to let you go so you can touch him, but the look he fixes you with is enough to shut you up. Slowly, slowly he trails his free hand down your chest and slips it into your shorts, rubbing you over your panties. 

You moan, clamping your thighs around his hand and grinding yourself into his touch, growing more and more desperate by the second. When he finally he relents and releases your hands you're panting, but you waste no time wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your hands in his curls as he returns to your neck, kisses turning to bites.

He rucks your shirt all the way up and you lift so he can finish tugging it over your arms. You shiver, fully exposed to him now and he bends down to take one nipple in his mouth, alternating between gentle bites and sucks while circling the other with his thumb and you sigh dreamily, pushing up into his touch.

Your hand drifts back to the nape of his neck, absently dragging your nails up and down the back of his scalp, dark curls running through your fingers and he groans against your skin. You move for his pants again but he bites your nipple that much harder; a clear warning.

He releases your nipple and you think he's switching to the other one but he instead fixes you with another stern look. His voice is lower this time when he speaks.

“Are you gonna behave, or do I need to tie you up?”

You can’t help the shiver that runs through you, or the whimper that escapes your lips at his words.

As enticing as the offer is, you’re starting to get antsy. You nod your head and mutter your assent and he smirks, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 

The look he gives you this time is much softer but it still makes your blood run hot, makes you feel like the electricity in your nerves is sparking just under your skin. You turn your head to the side and without missing a beat he grabs your chin lightly, guiding your gaze back to him.

Heat rushes up your neck to your cheeks, but you make yourself hold his gaze. His pupils are almost completely blown black now, cheeks ruddy and lips set in a firm line. 

"I care about making you feel good.” The sincerity in his voice floods you with warmth.

“Are you gonna let me?”

You whimper, wishing he’d just go back to kissing you, but you know the question isn’t rhetorical.

“Yes, yes, please Adrian just- please”, you pant, stretching up, wordlessly begging him to kiss you again, to do something, but he doesn't relent. He just holds your gaze while you pout and squirm under him.

“Now, tell me what you want.”

You peer up at him, uncertain of what he means. “I told you, I want you-”

“No, tell me exactly what you want. Be specific. Do you… do you want me to punish you?” His voice quiets a bit at the end.

“No! No, I don’t. I don’t want it to be a punishment. I-I don’t know. I just…  I do want it to hurt but... I more just want to not think, just for a while. Sorry, that’s not what you asked but-”

“No, no that’s good. That’s good.” 

He finally lets go of your wrists and kneads the muscles in your shoulders. The warmth and pressure from his hands soothes your nerves and you sigh and smile up at him.

“Alright, get over my lap then.”

You scramble to obey, already dizzy with anticipation. You feel giddy with it, and despite your nerves you couldn't deny how badly you wanted this– wanted to feel his hands on you, wanted him to make you feel release only the way he could.

You splay yourself over his spread legs, head resting on the pillow you’d grabbed. Now that you’re unable to see what he’s doing, your mind starts to race. Your pulse quickens, and you start to get that familiar floaty feeling you get whenever he takes control and you get to let go.

He puts one hand on the small of your back and with the other he finally, mercifully, tugs at your waistband. You can feel just how hard he's gotten now as he presses into your hip, but he doesn’t move. Adrian isn't much for teasing but he makes no move to touch you, so you wiggle your hips in the hope that it’ll get him to do… something. He presses firmly on your lower back and you huff, but still yourself anyway. He slowly smooths over the muscles in your lower back, pressing deeper and deeper until you relax into his touch. 

He moves lower, gripping the meat of your ass, kneading it softly, and you’re not sure if the gentle touches are genuine or if he’s trying to get you to let your guard down before he starts.

He unceremoniously spreads your legs, dipping his hand between your thighs before ghosting his fingers over your lips. He moves to circle your clit over your underwear and you moan into the pillow, bucking your hips back into his hand, searching for more of whatever he’s willing to give you.

You should’ve known better again, because as soon as you do, his hand comes down squarely against your ass. The pain isn’t so bad, but the sound is enough to make you jump. 

"Oh." he says quietly, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I see."

You're not sure exactly what he means by this but you don't have time to think about it too hard before he brings his hand down again, this time on the other cheek. He stops briefly and you move to turn and ask if that's all he intends to do, but you feel another stinging slap before you get the chance.

“You said you wanted it to hurt, right?” You mumble a "yes", high and breathy, into the pillow that’s smushed against your face.

"Then ask me nicely."

Fuck.

"Adrian, please, please, fucking- just - harder please."

The pace he sets now is unrelenting. You pretty quickly become aware of the fact that he's making sure there's no pattern for you to predict and the thought makes you even giddier.

One smack, and then another, the stinging pain hovering just on the edge of too much, dulling all of your other senses. You start to get that familiar hazy feeling, and you relax into it, welcome it, will it to take you over completely.

Left, left, left, right, left again, one sharp, followed by a few open handed ones to your thigh in quick succession. All the while he's rubbing small, tight circles against your clit with his other hand.

His fingers move to tease your entrance, rubbing small circles into you and like the slaps he's doling out they seem to have no predictable rhythm.

"I think… this is really unlocking something in me," he mutters, more to himself than to you. 

You’d been so focused on what he was doing that you only now realize how embarrassingly loud your moans had been, but his comment draws something out of you. You’re whining and writhing against him, not even trying to look dignified at this point, the sensation verging on overwhelming but so so good.

Suddenly it’s gone, and you whine in protest. For a moment everything is still, and you realize for the first time how quickly your heart is beating.

“Still okay?”

You don’t think you can form words right now, but you groan an affirmative, hoping it gets your message across. Adrian gently tilts your chin so he can look into your eyes and confirm. “Yes?” he questions, and your heart warms at the way he asks, at the way he always wants to be certain. The way he's biting his lip also tells you you’re not the only one who's enjoying this.

You exhale sharply, forcing your brain and mouth to actually form words, making sure your "yes" is clear. He nods once in return and releases your chin, and you sigh as you sink into the pillow again. Once you're comfortable, he starts again.

"Good girl. Keep being good for me.”

The sharp stinging pain and the dull thudding of his open palm are starting to run together, all becoming one sensation. He grips the fat of your ass again with one hand, releases it and brings the other hand down. He repeats this a few more times; squeezing, releasing and then bringing his hand down quickly before the blood has the chance to rush back under your skin, gauging your reactions each time, cataloging every whimper, moan and twitch, every shudder, flinch and squeal and rewarding each in kind.

“You like that? You like it when I hurt you like this? You like my fingers rubbing your pretty little clit like this?”

With this he runs his fingers back through the slick between your legs, teasing a finger against your opening.

"Jesus, fuck, look at you. Is this all for me? Yeah? Answer me." You can’t help but whine at that, telling him "Yes, yes it's all for you, all for you Adrian!" hiccuping and helpless to do anything but feel him.

He continues, “I think I know what you want, but you know you have to use your words,” he chides. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes! Pleasepleaseplease” You’re nearly sobbing now, tears you hadn't even noticed before falling freely now.

“I think I have something you’ll like even better,” he says, and your heart leaps at the thought of what he could possibly have in mind. You move to turn to him, but a firm hand on your back keep you in place.

He draws his hand back and you brace yourself for the inevitable impact, but it doesn't come. You huff, knowing full well he's absolutely got the shittiest grin on his face but you refuse to turn around this time, refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing your annoyance. So the two of you just sit there, momentarily suspended, at the world’s tensest, horniest impasse. You, over his lap, your panties hanging off of your ankle, and him, with presumably one hand raised in the air and one tracing faint shapes into the skin of your inner thighs.

"You," he starts, taking a deliberate breathe like he's trying to compose himself, trying to stave off the arousal he's thus far been able to keep at bay. He’s still got his pants on, and the combination of that and you writhing and moaning on top of him is starting to become unbearable.

"You have no fucking idea what you do to me."

He sounds dangerous now, voice too measured and now the tension is really starting to get to you.

He’s moving on the bed, doing his best to not jostle you too much but you can still feel his hips and cock shift under you as he reaches over to the drawer on your side of the bed. 

You hear him rifling through it, various objects clattering as he tosses them around. You use this time to ground yourself, taking a few deep breaths but they do little to stop the way your blood is still rushing under your skin. You have an idea of what he’s looking for, but you don’t dare turn around to confirm your suspicions. 

Finally, the rustling stops and he chuckles triumphantly.

He’s quiet again. Suspiciously, unnervingly quiet. Adrian is so rarely quiet that when he is it's noticeable. He’s still lazily running his fingers between your thighs, purposefully avoiding your clit this time, despite the insistent roll of your hips. Like he’s got all the time in the fucking world.

You hear the telltale buzz of the Magic Wand behind you, but he doesn’t give you time to register it before he pushes the head right up against your clit. You cry out, the sensation immediately far too intense, but despite your struggle he continues to firmly hold you in place. You whine pathetically, the pressure and vibration too much too soon, and he eases up just a little so the vibrations are still strong, but not so overwhelming.

You keep squirming, you can’t help it, and he moves the toy from your clit. This time you chase it, now desperate for stimulation and he chuckles above you and spanks your ass again.

“Fuck!” You cry out, burying your face into the pillow again. You know how you probably look, completely fucked out, tears splilling freely from your eyes now as you sob ugly and way too loud sobs, but you can't think about that right now. You were close, so so close. You just needed that extra little push.

“You’re doing so well baby. Can you take a few more?” and he asks so sweetly you can't even think about saying no.

Adrian returns to rubbing the small of your back, his voice a little softer now. He knows the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, and he always knows how to get you over the edge.

You gasped an “uh-huh”, arching into his touch and this time he allows it and repositions the toy directly against your clit again. Despite his softer tone, his hand comes down again just as hard and unrelenting as before and you’re honestly glad he isn’t going softer now that he knows you’re close.

He turns the vibration up a little more and the extra stimulation is exactly what you need. You feel your body seize momentarily as you clench and shake and for a split second everything feels still before your orgasm crests and breaks over you. 

You hold onto that feeling for as long as you can, letting the wave break and settle and feeling your brain go blissfully hazy.

You feel floaty, your body feeling absolutely spent, wrung out completely and everything in that moment feels so perfect.

Adrian slowly ghost gentle touches over your back and down over your ass and thighs. You feel something cool and sigh contentedly as he rubs lotion into your stinging flesh.

You work to steady your breathing, reveling in the feeling of his gentle touch and the sweet praises he mumbles.

He knows you sometimes get a little dizzy and fucked out after you cum, (loves it, really) so he waits for you to gather yourself. Once he finishes you roll onto your stomach.

You wouldn't blame him for being self satisfied or even cocky in this moment, but the smile he wears now is anything but. It's just warm and sweet, like him. 

He grabs one of the small hand towels you keep in the bedside drawers and gently wipes you down, knowing how much you hate the feeling of sweat on your skin after and helps you pull a fresh pair of underwear and one of his oversized shirts on as you settle into his lap.

“Was it.. was it good for you? Was it too hard?” You hear the little bit of worry start to creep into his voice and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no not at all. It was perfect Adj. You know I would’ve stopped you if something was wrong.”

He visibly relaxes at this, and resumes running his fingers over your tender flesh, humming softly.

It’s quiet, and for a while the only sound you’re aware of is your breathing. When he speaks again, it’s like he’s already in the middle of a thought.

“But seriously. Whatever you need, you know I’m happy to do it for you. And you know how much I love taking care of you. I just always want to make sure I make you feel good, you know?”

You smile at his confession. “Yeah, I know. And thank you. Seriously."

You clear your throat. “It's just nice to have someone who cares, you know?”

He hums thoughtfully, still rubbing your skin gently.

"I know you care about me as a person, and I'm not saying you're the only one who does. I meant more, it's nice to have someone who cares about making me feel good. Not to say that other people were just using me for sex but… with you it's just,” you go quiet again. “It’s just different."

“So thank you. For… this. For not being weirded out by it, I mean. And for doing it, of course.”

You sit up so you can look him in the eye now and he pulls you into him fully, arms tight and secure. The last thing you're aware of before you drift off this time is his scent as he kisses your temple.

[gayregina]

Amadeo by gayregina

Basically the painting scene of 2*04 but make it devil’s minion in the 70s-80s (and generally a little devil’s minion around that time). This is small but enjoy;)

-

He was surprised when he witnessed the apathy settle in. It appeared his boy had grown used to him. No longer afraid, no longer running. Long were the nights he chased after him, looking for the spark that set him apart from the rest, the one that had intrigued Louis into picking him among the norm. And he had found it at last. The restless dark hours of following him around and making him jump at every turn were fun but limiting. The days he would wake the human from his slumber were better. The way he would caress his damp curls, trail his fingers across the soft skin and kiss the lines of his body. His lips that he refused to touch even through the fever of lust that defined most of their nights together. Instead they found his neck and the rich blood flowed into his mouth. The low moan of agreement and his boy’s hands grasping his arms or his back or his hair desperately. The times Armand’s hands wandered lower on the human’s body, pleasuring what ached for him the most. That was strictly the days Daniel refused the high of the drugs, when he chose the vampire’s blood above all else. His demanding lips on his wrist, the blood trailing down his mouth. The desire in his eyes and the little gasp he would let out when he would feel Armand’s breath on his neck. Anticipation and trust being the only words hanging in the air around them, the horrors of their past rendezvous long forgotten. Now he was enamored only by his beauty and his charm and the way he would melt into every embrace they shared. That was what set him apart from everyone else. That was the very reason why at times he couldn’t predict his own words as they were flowing out of his mouth with profound ease.

There was a specific night that felt different even before it had begun. Daniel had promised to follow him wherever he went. They talked and they laughed as their feet were moving in sync through the streets of Paris and Daniel’s fingers even dared to brush against his in the dark corners of the alleys. It was a sober night and Armand had learnt those were the most dangerous. He lead him through the bustling crowds and away where the silence in the familiar museum welcomed them and mocked the vampire for his scheme. Daniel’s eyes were a reflection of curiosity and bewilderment and they fell on the painting as Armand stopped next to it. The boy reached out his hand and his fingers grazed Amadeo’s face gently, no one around them to prevent him. No words of explanation were exchanged because they were never needed between them. Only a surprised chuckle was heard across the room and the young boy just watched, admiring the sight.

“I was seventeen years old then, I think. The only one to ever capture my humanity. My maker was the one that thought of it and brought it to life. I served him with all my heart but not for what he was. I never asked for the dark gift. What good is eternal life if you do not know who you are? When you live so long you forget your origins and the faces of those who once cherished you and protected you and loathed you and betrayed you. There is no longer truth amongst your memories, only biased perceptions of half-forgotten stories that feel so distant as if they were once myths. I would have rather died of the illness that plagued me than endure all that have followed. But my maker couldn’t bear the thought of losing me and so he cursed me.” He looked over to Daniel and he was watching him with restlessness and concentration. Was it empathy he was looking for? Someone to comfort him? He did not know.

“It felt as though I was thrown overboard and I didn’t know how to swim. I struggled and it was endless. The question of whether I could float or inevitably drown was pounding in my nauseous mind. I wished and I prayed that the sea would swallow me whole. But it didn’t hear any of my pleadings and I was washed ashore. A meaningless existence followed, all my potential companion to everything that flourishes at the bottom of the ocean; always out of reach with the treacherous possibility of greatness. Only loneliness remained and it wrecked the rest. My own body felt foreign and the sun was my enemy and my temptation for a long time. I almost surrendered to it until I no longer could. My power was too strong and somehow still useless. I was never capable enough to get rid of all I despised because somehow I was still myself.” Bloody tears were rolling down his cheeks. “I never learnt how to float. I never walked along the sand, Daniel. I am still drowning.” He felt Daniel’s touch on his cheeks, how he wiped away his tears, similar to what had occurred between him and Amadeo a few moments ago. His violet eyes were apologetic and sorrowful and he offered him a bitter smile. He guided him in his arms for the first time and Armamd thought he understood now the safety of a life vest and the calmness it spread in him. And when he pulled him closer and pressed his lips gently against his, Armand felt like a boy again and suddenly he had no regrets and he forgot all about the grief and the pain. And as he hugged Daniel’s waist and brought him closer, he considered that maybe his boy didn’t reach for him despite his demons and his edges but because of them. Through the innocent gaze of Amadeo, the boy smiled at him in agreement.

-

I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Thank you!

[famina]

Late night walk

*TRIGGER WARNING* This one is serious ! Since it involves the Vigilante, the story starts with a troubling encounter that could get uncomfortable for some. If it is your case, please skip to "=============THIS SING DOWN BELOW=============" Thanks. I hope you like it !!

There are no stars out tonight, the sky is a dark purple mass. Only the million of streetlights and neon signs lighten your path. Cities glow at night. The darkness hides all the dirtiness and let’s shine the rest.

As you walk along the pavement you breath in the night city air ! It’s cold and a bit metallic. You were out with some friends and what was supposed to be a little get together ended way later than anyone expected ! But you don’t care, you don’t work tomorrow. All you’ve got to do now is return home and sleep. But the night was so fun that you want to stretch it out a bit longer. You decide to take a detour by the park just for fun ! You think it should look magical on a night like this.

And you were right ! The warm yellow lights of the old streetlamps reflect on the fountains water and gives it a enchanting look. It’s just you, alone, in your own glowing kingdom.

Sundenly, a clank sound ! You turn around to see a person in the distance. You almost forgot you were in a public place and start to come back to reality.

“Hey!” Says the stranger. You don’t respond.

“I said HEY ! What a…What.cha doing here !?” You start to make your way out of the park.

“Wait ! I said WAIT !” They start to chase you. You are now running; you don’t really know where. You are not familiar with this part of town.

You end up corned in a little alley way and the stranger is still approaching.

“C’mon ! Why you..T’fuck is wrong with you..” The stranger is now very close.

“S-Stay away please !!” You say to them but to no avail.

“Hey ! I-I’m not bad…see !?” They make a gesture to show themselves as if that was a reassuring answer. They were clearly not sober. You don’t know what to do and start panicking.

“P-Please…Leave me alone !”

“Oh ! No ! No ! Ssshhhh…’s okay !” They get uncomfortably close. You froze up ! You close your eyes tightly and get ready for the worst.

================HERE YOU GO, ENJOY !===============

Then in an instant, you hear the wind whistling and the body of the stranger is forcefully pushed away. You open your eyes to discover a young man has interposed himself between you two and kicked the assailant a good 3 meter back.

Your pursuer is stumbling back up. “HEY !” they scream to the young man “T’HECK D’YOU WANT !!??”

“I believe this person told you to not approach them !”

With difficulty, the assailant gets back to their feet and seems to get ready to punch him.

“I do not want to harm you !” Said the man “But I must warn you that I WILL defend myself if need be !” At these words, the young men place himself in a combat position, he seemed to have experience in fighting.

To that, the stranger lost all confidence and turned away. “Whateveryoufuck…Idon’teven…” And so they left while still mumbling insults along the way.

You calm down a bit. The young man seems to do so too. He turns around to look at you :

“Are you hurt in any way ?”

“W-wha ? N-No !”

“Good…” He then turns around and is about to make an exit.

“W-Wait !” You stop him !

“Hm ?” He seems genuinely surprised at your action.

“Well hm…thank you I guess.”

“Don’t mention it. It is my duty !”

“Oh…….is that so….” You think to yourself that maybe you exchanged one weirdo for another. “W-well…” You start “..H-Here ! As thanks, I could give you-..”

“No!” The man stops you sharply “I never take from others ! I’m not a thief nor am I a beggar.”

“O-oh….I see..s-sorry..”

“Don’t be…I-I’m sorry for my strong reaction…” He backs away shyly.

“D-Don’t worry about it.” You say with a smile.

“Well I should be going now.” He starts walking with a determined walk when “AAAAH !!” He sundenly feels to the ground clutching his abdomen.

“W-WHAT’S WRONG ! A-Are you hurt ?!” You run to him, worried.

“N-No…this is nothing…I’m simply..AaaaAAAArgh !!”

GGRRRRRRrrrrrrRRRROOOOOooooooOOOOOOOOOOOoooooWWwwwwwwwl

“Han ??”

The young man is red as a tomato and tries to hide his face in his collar. “I’m….a bit hungry…..That’s all…”

GGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwl

“You sound a more than a BIT hungry.”

“It’s…not as bad as it sound…It’s fine really…I’ll just…hmm” He tries to stand up and run away but he fells back to the gound after tree steps.

“H-Hey !!” You run to him again . “You shouldn’t do that ! You’re clearly too weak to run at the moment.”

“My…..bad…” He seems VERY lightheaded now.

“Alright, let’s get something to eat, okay ?”

“I-I don’t need-..”

gggGGGGGggggGrrrrRRRRrrrrrOOOOooooooowls…

“Mmmh…”

He’s stomach disagrees and so do you. “Come on ! Up we go !” You put him on your shoulders and start walking. Since he seems good in a fight, you’re surprised to find out how light he is. That’s not good. “Don’t worry, I know a good pizza place near by ! I’ll take you there.”

“I can’t….”

“Yes you can !”

“…Got…no…money..”

“Oh…Well I’ll be treating then ! It’ll be my thanks for earlier !”

“N-No ! I don’t take from others ! I refuse to-“

GRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOWWWLS

“Hm-mmmh…” He’s overflowing with embarrassment.

“Well if you don’t want to die you’ll have to accepte. Besides, your not taking, I AM OFFERING ! So no more complaining, got it ?”

“………………………………………..got it…….”

“Good !”

You make your way to the pizza place ! It’s one of those open 24/7 restaurant. It’s not the fanciest place but the pizza is good and it’s the perfect place for late night snacks. There’s only one person behind the counter and they’re not paid enough to pay attention to you until you place an order. You put the young hero on a chair and take the plastic menu.

“So, what do you want ?”

“………………….” The hero has turned his face away. He’s clearly uneasy about you buying him food. But you can’t just leave him be.

“…If you don’t tell me I’ll just take an all-dressed !”

“…………………”

“Alright ! All-dressed it is !” You stand up to go order when the young men pulls on your shirt to stop you. You turn around. He’s still hiding his face in his collar.

He shyly says : “C-could you…ask for no peppers…..p-please…?”

You laugh a bit : “ Yeah ! Sure thing !”

You go order the pizza and return to your seat while you wait for it to be done. After a little while, you hear a certain sound.

Grrrrrooooooooan….

“O-oh !?...” The young hero turns red again. “S-Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize ! It’s perfectly norm-“

GRRRRROOOOOOooooooowl…

He get’s even redder and hides as he can under his bangs and collar. “Sorry…”

This continued for a little while and your companion seems more and more uncomfortable so you decide to break the ice to distrack him from his hunger while you wait.

“So, my name is (Y/N), what’s yours ??”

“O-oh..I don’t use my real name when I’m on duty.. sorry..”

“Oh okay…so, what should I call you ?”

“You can call me the Hero or the Vigilante…if you want..”

“You don’t even have a hero name ?!”

“I….haven’t settle on one yet….”

“I see…So..hm..Vigilante..Do you, do this sort of things every night ?”

“What sort of thing ?”

“Swooping in and beating the bad guys ?”

“Well, yes ! I do this most nights.”

“Really ? When do you sleep ?”

“During the day…But that’s not always possible. After all…Crime never sleeps !..”

You suspect he wanted to sound cool. But you can’t help your self to laugh.

“H-Hey ! That’s not…mmmh..” He pouts. You then notice that he has deep dark circles under his eyes and that stops your laughter.

“Well it’s not healthy. You should sleep 8 hours a day you know ?!”

“I-I know…”

“And you should try to eat more properly too ! You seem pretty strong but depriving your body of food for a long time is not good !”

“I….I’ll try…”

Now you feel like you’re moralizing him. “sigh Sorry it’s just…You seem very nice. And I think you should try to take better care for yourself ! That’s all.”

“Y-You think I’m nice ?!”

“Well…yeah ? Is that odd ?”

“Well…it’s just…people usually think I’m a weirdo….” He slumps his head down. This surprise you, sure he’s not…the most normal person you’ve met but he clearly means well. Does he get a hard time even tho he’s trying to do good ?

“H-hmm..” He perks his head back up. “T-thank you…By the way…for the food…”

“Oh ! No problem !” You smile at him and your pretty sure he smiles back from under his collar.

The pizza finally arrives at your table. The vigilante suddenly gets all excite like a little dog. He thanks the worker who brought it about 5 times and then is about to take a piece when he suddenly stops.

“O-Oh ! H-hmm…M-my bad…You paid for it. Y-you should serve yourself first…”

“Oh no no !” You say. “I’m not hungry ! I ordered it for you ! Take it all !”

“R-Really ?..” He looks at you with surprise. You reassure him by nodding and smiling. He starts beaming with joy and starts eating the pizza with vigor. You are happy to see him enjoying a good meal. You have a feeling he doesn’t often do so.

In a few minutes the whole pizza has disappeared. The vigilante breaths a sigh of relief. “This was…really really good. Thanks again….I-I’ll repay you of course !”

“Oh ! So you do have money ?”

“N…no…Well, not now…But hmmm…one day ?” He looks at you with an awkward unsure smile. You smile back.

“It’s a promise then.”

And so, you make your way home. The vigilante insists to walk you home like the gentleman that he is. It IS getting very late so you actually enjoy the reassuring company. You wish each other goodnight and you make the Vigilante promise to go straight to bed after this. And you make your way to your bed. One day he’ll pay you back, huh ? Well…let’s hope this day comes soon so you can chat with him again.

[88crimson88]

RougeWing Blurb 1

Redwing could feel the cold Gotham air stabbing into her lungs. She had been out patrolling for hours, she didn’t know exactly how long. And now she was chasing this criminal. This thief. This woman. 

“Catch me if you can, Birdie!” Cat Rouge called from feet ahead. She was so goddamn graceful. It looked more like she was floating than running. RedWing groaned as her heart sped up even more at Rouge’s words.

The diamond. RedWing reminded herself. I’m doing this to get back the diamond. Not to get back the cat. She’d never get back the cat. That ship has long sailed.

RedWing started to panic as Rouge ducked into an Alley. She couldn’t let her slip away. Not again. Not with that priceless diamond clutched in her hands. And in that dark alley, Rouge could easily slip into the shadows and disappear. RedWing was right on her tail. Before Rouge could slip into the shade, RedWing slammed her against the brick wall.

“Got you.” She seethed, ripping the small velvet bag from Rouge’s hands. Her breathing hitched as Rouge's hands grabbed her waist. “Hands off, Cat.” She barked. Rouge's hands fell down.

“My bad, Birdie. Old habits.” RedWing glared at the villain while she looked in the bag. 

“You know me too well.” Rouge hummed.

“Where is it?”

“What, Birdie?”

RedWing glowered at her. “Where’s the diamond?”

Cat Rouge smirked. “Where I keep all my valuables, of course.”

RedWing’s eyes fell down to the woman’s chest. She grunted, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Well, get it out then.”

“Get what out?” Rouge teased the zipper on her cleavage down a smidge.

RedWing had to shake the thoughts from her head. “The diamond, Cat! Give me the diamond!”

“You’re no fun, Birdie.”

RedWing pressed her harder against the wall. “Give me the diamond!”

Rouge smirked. “Take it.”

RedWing’s face matched the shade of her suit.

“Go on.”

RedWing reached a hand into Rouge’s suit, digging around until she found the diamond. She let her hand linger there for a moment as she stared up into Rouge’s eyes.

“Distracted?” Rouge broke the silence. RedWing’s eyes darted to Rouge’s lips.

She withdrew her hand and proudly showed the diamond.

“Good job, Birdie. Is this the part where you kiss me for being so cooperative?”

RedWing shook her head yet again. “Shut up, Cat. It’s time for you to go to jail.”

“One more kiss, please, Birdie…” 

RedWing gritted her teeth, trying not to think too hard about the offer.

“Please, Crimson.” RedWing couldn’t think straight when Rouge used her real name (or ever really, for that matter).

RedWing slammed Rouge against the wall again and kissed her with all the passion from the frustration of the night. Her tongue darted into Rouge’s mouth and claimed it over and over. Her fingertips gripped into Rouge’s hips as she pressed herself into her.

She pulled away almost a minute later. “Fuck.” She said as she caught her breath. “My apartment tonight. We’re not getting back together, so don’t get the wrong idea.” RedWing warned.

Rouge’s smirk widened. “Of course not, Birdie. I would never.”

[shshshshshowrunner]

chases you chases you chases you chases you chases you

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[agentsquirrelsgotrobots]

One bad apple…. - Chapter 1 - Agentsquirrel - Transformers: Rescue Bots [Archive of Our Own]

When you find an old work of yours while trawling a favorite tag...

Tw abuse, suicide, Boulder/Heatwave

Someone surrenders a sparkling to Boulder, and Heatwave ain't happy about it.

Boulder should have blocked the unknown comm link number.

But he didn't, and when he received a call from it by a panicked sounding bot that begged him not to bring Heatwave or Chase with him, he should have brought them anyway.

But the kind of panic in that bot's voice reminded him too much of the emergency calls that he had listened to during his time at the academy. The ones he shows to his own students as a marker of priority cases. It is medically impossible to rig a voice box to glitch like that without inflicting incredible stress and pain onto a bot.

The bot gave Boulder a location of an alley in town, and he drove over there as quickly as he could. It was the middle of the night, around two or three am. Boulder had packed some energon and some basic medical supplies, fully committing himself to convince whoever this was to come back with him to the firehouse.

He transformed and drove out to his location, sneaking past a passed out Heatwave. He had scored two nights and one day off back to back, so of course he got drunk and sappy and then passed out. It would be silly of him to hope that he and Boulder, who also had tonight off, would actually hang out.

But no, Heatwave had to still pretend like he was the fourth wheel, even though he regularly rejected all invites to hang out and have fun.

Boulder turned down the street and past the flower shop. He stopped when he saw a pair of eyes peer out of a dark alley.

A bot with sickly green eyes leaned against the wall of the alley, holding something gently against his chest.

Boulder noticed that he had gray paint over the place where his badge should be, along with it being smeared over his plating, too. Between the paint and the darkness, it took Boulder a while to understand what the bot was holding. A fabric wrapped bundle stitched together lovingly from dozens of stolen bedsheets. The bot moved a corner of the patchwork blanket, revealing two bright blue eyes, glowing and healthy.

The bot had obviously put every scrap of energon he could find into keeping the sparklet fed, and when the energon had run out, he had no choice but to give the little one up to someone who could guarantee energon and a good life for it. Boulder sent a silent prayer to any Prime who could hear him for both their protection. He offered the energon and medical kit to the bot, but he backed away with the child.

<p>"I'm not selling him." They murmured, most likely for his own benefit.

"No, no, you are not. I am here to help. You can just take the medicine and energon if you want. The ferry runs all night, and if you tell the toll booth that Boulder sent you, they will charge the fee on my account. But please, feed yourself too. If you would like, you can come with me, and I will give you both energon and we can sort this out in the morning"

"No, no, no, I can't go with you." The bot said. He rubbed the sparklet's face and seemed to make up their mind. "Take him, I named him Wheeler."

They handed the bundle over to Boulder, who rocked the little one slowly while schooling his face into a worried look. Boulder looked up again, resisting the urge to press Wheeler's head against his chest. He could see little wheels forming on Wheeler's feet, and hid a tiny face that was surrounded by a thick head bordered with a few antennae sticking out.

The bot nervously shifted from foot to foot. "Take him." He said. "I can't keep him, and you can obviously afford to give out energon like it's dust and violence and pain." He transformed into a sports car, scraping the brick wall with his doors. The scraped off gray paint revealed dark purple and black paint underneath.

Boulder thought that color scheme looked familiar, but still stepped aside to let the bot pass him and leave. Surprisingly, he didn't take the most direct route to the ferry, looping around a few blocks.

He returned to the firehouse, careful to make sure Wheeler wasn't jostled during the long drive.

"Guys? Boulder said, flipping the light switch. "I took a walk around the island, and I found someone important."

Boulder took Wheeler out of his cab, and Blades was immediately hovering over the little one, playing with his feet.

"Where did you find him? What's his name?" Blades said, looking up.

"I saw two new energon signals pop up on my radar. The bot waited till I was in sight of him before leaving him in an alley outside of the flower shop near the department store. I was too worried about making sure Wheeler was safe to get a good look at who left him."

In the commotion, the Burns woke up too.

"Hey team, what's going-" Cody said

"Boulder, what are you holding?" Chief said, noticing that the bundle was squirming.

Boulder sat down and unwrapped Wheeler from his blanket, folding it in half and putting Wheeler down on his belly. He played with him, wiggling his fingers a little bit away from his head and encouraging Wheeler to grab them.

"An abandoned baby. His name is Wheeler."

"How did this happen?" Kade said, watching Wheeler reach for Boulder's fingers.

"A desperate parent, a basic energon scanner and a touch of insomnia." Boulder said. "His father's signal popped up on my radar while I was getting some paperwork done in hopes of it helping me to get some sleep. I tried to get him to come to the firehouse after he gave Wheeler up, but he left of his own volition instead. I just count myself lucky that he didn't choose to leave him in a box somewhere. I didn't manage to get his face, he was strategic about making sure the streetcars both ruin any camera footage and the alley is too dark for my own eyes. He put Wheeler in my arms and I had to make sure he was OK."

"Where are we putting Wheeler? Are you bots going to take shifts?" Graham asked. "It's what we did with Cody after mom died."

"No, we will just put him in our cabs like we are supposed to."

"Wait, that's the original purpose for the cabs? To protect your babies and keep your hands free?"

"That's what they were there for, Kade. It holds our young children and any cargo that we have." Heatwave said. "Boulder, you get to hold him first since he is probably already imprinted on you."

Boulder nodded and reorganized his seats to make a safe, flat cradle. He transformed, Wheeler being carefully placed into the cradle.

Everyone went back to bed, the bots shifting around their parking arrangements, so Boulder was surrounded by all sides by the other bots.

Boulder woke up to Wheeler screaming, his voice box glitching with stress. He scooped him out of his cab and sang a bit in Kaonite, tucking his head under his chin. Wheeler screamed louder and coughed in pain when his voice box shorted out. Wheeler shook in pain, shrinking away at every touch.

Heatwave woke up too, insisting that Boulder sleep for the rest of the night. He tucked Wheeler into his own cab before transforming back into a truck and falling back to sleep.

That morning, Doc Greene called the firehouse, a grim tone in his voice.

"Heatwave, you and the others should get up here. I found a dead bot in the woods. They haven't been there for long."

"Doc, keep everyone inside and stay away from the outside walls. Energon fumes are toxic to humans, and it's corrosive and will destroy your skin." Heatwave said.

They drove up to the lab, Boulder staying behind with the baby. He had a sinking suspicion on who would be found.

Heatwave towed a trailer that he had borrowed from Salvage and had never given back. He promised himself he would wash it after removing the body. He pulled into the driveway and saw a gray painted smeared purple vehicon laying in a ditch, its blaster hand out, and a hole in his spark chamber. His mask was crushed behind him. Heatwave took a few photos of the scene before loading the body into the trailer and calling Optimus.

Optimus and Ratchet were on the next ferry to Griffin Rock. They went to the firehouse first, not shocked to see Boulder leaning against the couch, watching TV with the sparklet while waiting for the bots to return.

"Can I see the sparklet Boulder? Optimus called me down here to take a look."

"Of course." Boulder handed Ratchet the sparklet, fussing with his blanket.

Ratchet listened to Wheeler's spark, his frown growing deeper. "He's had a bond severance at least twice. I assumed he was one of yours?"

"No, he was abandoned down by the flower shop by the town hall last night. He's lucky that I was testing the energon scanners last night."

"I'm going to take some energon and DNA samples, take him so he can quiet back down when I am done."

Boulder looked away as Ratchet took quite a few vials of energon from a needle stuck in a big vein in Wheeler's head. Ratchet rolled his eyes at Boulder's squeamishness and finished up as fast as possible. Wheeler was wailing, only Boulder's desire for Ratchet to be finished as fast as possible, letting him resist the urge to rock him.

"Did you know that a body was found this morning?" Ratchet said, as Optimus left to meet with Heatwave.

"Yes. The crying fit last night must have been from Wheeler's family bond breaking so dramatically." Boulder said, playing with Wheeler's feet as he slowly stopped crying.

"Other than that, he is a perfectly healthy, if a little underdeveloped and malnourished, sparklet. Keep feeding him whenever he's hungry, and he should catch up in a few weeks. I need to go fill out a death certificate at the Greenes."

He left the firehouse, and Boulder put Wheeler back down on his blanket in hopes of him figuring out crawling a bit faster. Wheeler was not impressed with life or crawling at the moment, so he just laid there with a grumpy expression on his face.

Eventually, he did attempt to crawl once Boulder dangled a toy just out of reach.

He was able to push himself up but hadn't quite figured out his knees yet. He tried one more time before hitting his chin off the concrete floor and screaming for Boulder.

Boulder picked him up without missing a beat. There's no such thing as "spoiling" a baby as young as Wheeler.

Boulder held Wheeler and watched a sitcom while playing with Wheeler's hands and antennae, waiting for Heatwave to return.

Meanwhile, Optimus was looking over the body with Ratchet. Ratchet, of course, filled out the necessary paperwork without saying the obvious. "So, a dead vehicon on Griffin Rock. What's the odds he would share CNA with Squeaky?"

Ratchet's wrist screen beeped, and he looked at the lab results. "About 98.5%."

Heatwave was pissed. Filthy Decepticons. In his house, in his academy. He couldn't let that stand.

Wedge didn't count. His parents were ex Decepticons, but they had betrayed the Decepticons long before the war ended.

Besides, both he and the exchange student coming in a few weeks were going to get a visit from special ops anyway. No need to put the fear of Primus into their systems the old-fashioned way if Jazz and Medix were going to do it in a way that can't be rebroken.

They returned to the firehouse, Optimus promising to bring supplies for Wheeler within the next two weeks.

As soon as Optimus left, Heatwave lost it. "DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU BROUGHT A FRAGGING DECEPTICON INTO MY HOUSE!" He yelled, slamming Boulder into the wall of the bunker.

Blades scrambled to get off the couch and slipped into his room, locking the door behind him. Faint crying could be heard through the door.

Chase grabbed a crying Wheeler and ducked into the back storeroom, murmuring something about private matters for couples.

Boulder managed to get out of Heatwave's grip long enough to jiggle the lock of the room Blades was so determined to hide in.

"Blades? Blades please, let me in, let me in!" Boulder sobbed, pounding on the door.

Heatwave was about to grab Boulder again when they heard a banging on the door.

"Boulder, go to bed in the ship. Chase, Blades, get out to the garage in twenty minutes. We will tell Chief that Boulder wants to sleep alone in the same room as Wheeler." Heatwave said. Chase shoved Wheeler into Boulder's arms while Blades came out of his room and sat with him on the couch.

Chief knocks yet again as he hears the bots finally stop yelling. They woke up Cody, who had school the next day with their yelling. Heatwave opened the door. Chief looked past him to see Boulder and Blades curled up on the couch with Wheeler.

The air felt heavy with released tension, the feeling of a bad fight resolving as everyone retreated into themselves to sulk and rage and feel just as broken as they were before anger boiled over.

Chief watched as the rest of the bots tried to hide their dysfunction in the mundane.

Heatwave took him aside later, making up some excuse about nesting fever or something. About how it can make bots act 'catty' towards each other, and they were all feeling it. Chief smelled bullshit, but it was far too late at night to be holding them accountable.

He went back to bed, unable to have collected any kind of evidence of their dysfunction as everyone except Boulder filed into the garage for the night.

Even later that night, Boulder snuck out of the firehouse and called Bulkhead in a panic. He had to get Wheeler out of this hell as fast as possible.

[ducknotinarow]

2k3 Rasey 😖

| Send a ��� for your muse to catch my muse having a panic attack

The air was cool, no snow, but the chill of winter clung to the dark city sky. Dark and deep yet some stars managed to break past a smog city skyline only outdone by the blinding bright lights of the city. Didn't matter how bright those lights dazzled and illuminated the area. Crime still found a way to keep to the shadows. To much if the bad luck of the guy being tailed by a certain red banded turtle now. They were well aware something was after them as if he was being hunted. The only sound was of them running, bumping into trash cans as they were looking up and over their shoulders. Raph could have taken them down sooner but sometimes the chase was far more fun. There was always a strangler that managed to break by Raph jump down and caught them off, smiling when they stumbled back at the sight of a giant turtle.

"aw ain't got any more run in ya? an' jus' when I thought you might get away." Patronizing them a little.

Raph liked to play around with his victims just made it more of a game to him. Look sometimes the street thugs were nothing but a joke so beating them up? was just kind of sad and not to mention make for short fights. So make them squirm maybe let them get to chase them even it was pretty much a cat and mouse game from that point. Taking a step forward Raphael watched them step back till they hit the brick wall behind them, they drew out a pathetic pocket knife. And Raphael just chuckled. Even letting his stance fall as he bent over to laugh at them. Man sometimes you had to wonder what pathetic pack of losers got roped into this life. Some yeah clearly had been harden by this life, not this guy was like hunting a rabbit.

" 'his is gettin' sad guess I shouldn' drag it out anymor' than I have." Owning up to the poor guy he was getting screwed with this whole time. Beside Casey will be catching up with him eventually and he's got a score to top. Can't let them try taking them out and remove a tally from Raph. So to add to their own, one way to keep these nights a bit fun turn into a game, and well Raph didn't like to lose. A tilt of his neck and crack it before closing in on them. Was odd though he could feel a slight tingle around his wrists, suddenly. Raph knew that feeling he has gotten it a few times almost like a chill. He assumed his quick heart rate was just do to the adrenaline rush. But when he started to feel dizzy? hmm he ignored it. Yet when he ran out towards his thug throwing the first punch he missed. He missed by a lot too hitting the wall, knuckles hitting brick. Raph gave a shake of his head. Confused. This was like before, when Don found him in the alleyway.

"fuck not again."

Breathing heavily, he hadn't even worked up a sweat though? Things where spinning. Fuck not again not now. That's when he felt something, sharp against his arm. Familiar, pain as he turned to eye the guy he been chasing down till now. Watching as they tried backing away seeming to try their luck and take their shot just then, he let his eyes fall down to look at his arm lower it a bit where he could see the thin cut, not too deep but enough to cause some blood to to stream from it. Why was he freezing up? It's like he couldn't move his own arm? Gritting his teeth as he could hear the sound of feet echoing out through the alleyway, he focused on the pain on his arm but it wasn't enough. Eyeing the guy who suddenly weighed his options and turned around quickly to dart out of the alley he been trapped in.

"Stupid punk." Raph growled under his breath breaking away from the wall. It took no time at all for him to catch back up, grabbing at their wrists and pulling them back towards himself, their knife easily sliced against his cheek. Just like when he did it himself it was helping. Well some stupid part of his brain made it out like that was clearly the case. Just the sting of any. A hit, a cut anything and whatever. If it hurt it seemed to keep whatever this was away. "who said this dance was over uh?"

----

A few more cuts now adored Raph's form, the guy he trailed after was clearly knock out long enough for the cops or whatever to find but Raph was still hanging around them. They didn't stand much chance even with Raph letting them get some hits in. Least If Don asked it wouldn't be a lie when he told them he just got into a scuffle with a guy and their knife. Standing over them as his body heaved. There was a lot wrong with this scene, these guys were barely a warm up yet how could they have got that many nicks on to Raph. As the turtle stood over them as if waiting for any sign of them moving. The second they showed some sign on consciousness Raph would likely go again, he was near challenging them to get up again. Raph was clearly not in his right mind.

He knew it, it why he was trying to force it away. That's when he heard foot steps he was on guard looking for more fight but it was just Casey. You think he drop the stance when seeing them but he didn't as if for a moment he considered fighting with Casey. It took the turtle a moment to realize it was Casey in truth lowering his shoulders.

Get your shit together Raph.

Stepping away finally it was clear the guy was out and done, as he walked over to Casey now. "Looks 'ike I'm in the lead now." He tries to act as if he don't look like a butches knife right now. "don' worry I didn't notice the knife is all." Yeah the turtle with ninja training couldn't handle a simple pocket knife? Looking at Casey he simply folded his arms over his plastron and lowered his head to look away from them, shoulders hunching up a bit that old distance instinct to hide in his shell was working. And in a way it was sometimes it felt like Casey could read him like a book. Which was ticking him off "What need a picture? I know ya got it bad for me Jones but don' need ta stare." Despite the try for humor it was clearly he was snapping at them right now. Yeah part of Raph knew Casey was just worried but if Casey looked to close? he might manage to piece together Raph did this to himself.

Raph rolled his eyes, dropping his arms "What! I'm fine fuck ya think these little cuts are gonna do anything to me?" Likely not what they are thinking. "im fine so stop with that stupid look!" he wasn't fine, he was breathing hard again, his shoulders were clearly shaking. Letting a fist fly and hit the hockey stick between them. It may come out as an attack on Casey to get off his shell, but seeing how the wood splintered Raph dug his knuckles in against it. He needed to keep whatever was wrong with him away.

His knees felt weak, though as he breathed heavily. Why was the air so thin? A step forward and Raphael let his forhead rest to Casey's shoulder a moment. Stick held between them but Raph didn't notice it at the time. He didn't chance a look at them right right now he wasn't brave enough to face them. Before it could amout to a bad mood this time? Fuck. He was leaning against them Casey wasn't that dumb to not think something was wrong at least. He let's fingers curl and grip on to Casey's shirt a moment. That all he needed just a moment he'd be fine. Eyes squeezed shut as he counted to himself softy. Shove it down get up this ain't anything. He repeats a few more times before finally getting it in him to move back.

"I think imma hit the lair maybe he had somethin' traced on that knife."

[thepulta]

Westlie was not a stranger to rage. It enveloped her as she walked down the hallway, measuring her footsteps. When she focused on it, she could imagine holding it inside her clenched fist, feeling every muscle tense and loosen. The center burned deep in her chest like a flame, feeding off of the injustice of the day. Which was why she was here, now, after all. To be angry and to keep being angry; she was here to win on her terms. Westlie took a deep breath, stopping in the middle of the hallway to center herself again because it was important. This was easy. She could do this.

She could stand strong this time. Even her younger self wasn’t a stranger to rage, it was just her father’s rage. Arthur was often angry. If she searched far back to one of her first memories, he was hovering over a tutor while she tried to scratch out her letters. After some time she got to ‘p’ and wrote it backward. Was it a ‘p’? It could have been any letter really; but she wrote it backwards. She just remembered the sharp “Wrong!” barked over her head and the paper ripped out of her grasp. She pulled back from the desk, startled. Arthur crumpled it in his giant hands, scowling at her with sullen umber eyes. “Do it again.”

She could keenly remember the first seed of real fear planted in her heart as she shakily grabbed another page offered by the tutor and tried again. (And again, and again, and again while each time her hand got shakier.) After the fifth time she burst into tears and Arthur scoffed and walked away. The test was over. She failed.

That was important because she was still scared. Westlie closed her eyes and tried to ground herself, pushing down the immediate burn of anger at the memory.

She could remember when she was ten. (Stars, she’d been a such a small, terrified child by that point.) When Arthur instructed his secretary to give her a pair of breeches or some other non-skirt. (“I don’t care where you get them! Sew a pair yourself if you have to. She won’t set foot in that place without pants.”) She ended up with a pair of cast-off breeches that reeked of mushrooms. The secretary took her to the shop the next morning, nudging open the unfamiliar back door and handing her two fist-thick ledgers off a nearby shelf.

“Millie is out sick and Arthur wants you to do these.” The woman had the self-respect to give her a somewhat pitying look. “You can stay here in the back, or do them out front. The receipts are on the side wall. No- not-” She rolled her eyes. “Look. Side wall, by the crystal lilies. They’re alphabetized by date, but the more important customers come first, so you might have to check.”

Westlie remembered the room to the detail since she’d spent too much time there. Several small mail-like boxes of miscellaneous materials, crystal lilies near the receipts on the bottom, with some small preserved jars of blemmigans on top with a jar of eyeballs on the top right. The back was an assortment of supplies from mushrooms to coffee, giving the room a deep, heady scent that gave you migraines and nightmares if you stayed for more than 8 hours, and to the right of the back entrance, a storage room of engine parts. She learned later there was a fake shelf within the storage room that held several hours in case of unsavory events. There was a desk to the front covered with paperwork. There was a small chime connecting through the wall over the desk, then another door to the right of the desk that opened into the shop front.

Westlie remembered absorbing it all for the first time, struggling under the weight of the ledgers with a slightly horrified heart at the jar of preserved eyeballs floating and staring lucidly at her to the left. “Should- should I organize the receipts by date as I finish..?” There was the click of the door and she spun around, a pit in her stomach opening up. She was alone. There was vague chatter from the front room but it faded out to a murmur, only picking up as the door opened or closed five minutes later.

She'd done practice ledgers once, but never allowed to see the real thing 'because she wasn't good enough'. The weight of her situation - an injustice, because it was an injustice when she'd never done them before, wasn’t it? - landed on her shoulders and in her stomach and Westlie bit her lip, chest aching. She didn’t have the words for it, but Older-Westlie could feel the ice of fear crackle over her soul in the memory - that Arthur would come and tell her it was wrong, all wrong, that the tutor would drop in and switch her; that she wasn’t alone, just waiting for the mistakes to be hung over her head. There had to be some mistake. They wouldn’t just leave her here, would they? Memory after memory of similar situations with bad endings piled up in her mind and Westlie remembered choking in that moment, horrified in the room with the pair of eyeballs because they would. They just did. And there was that grave, grave injustice within all of it.

Westlie remembered climbing up on the desk stool and shoving the ledgers on the table, her shoulders shaking. It took a few minutes, a few candles flickering in the silence before the pit in her stomach and her throat broke, letting out a silent, terrified cry of pain as the tears started to drip down her cheeks. After a few minutes of gasping she buried her face in her arms. The secretaries were occasionally nice but this one didn’t care. Nobody cared. Nobody in the world cared. The heady, unfamiliar scent curled around her, making her cry harder in deep hypoxiating gulps. It might have been ten minutes or two hours later when her tears slowly dried up, she stopped hiccuping, and she slowly raised her head, opening the ledgers to their last entry. The pages turned with a thick lethargy. It was some captain selling a load of hours. She slid off the stool and grabbed the pile of receipts, sliding them off the nail they’d been impaled on and laying them slowly out on the table.

Each name had to be read slowly, carefully, corrected. Westlie bit her lip, concentrating on writing each letter cleanly and checking her sums. After an hour there was a thick heat in her head as question after question went unanswered. Where did this name go? How were ‘favorite captains’ ordered? Whose favorite captains were these? Should she give a sum after each item or only after the whole sale? She flipped back and forth through the thick pages, finding examples and teaching herself. After three painful hours, the ten-year-old was gritting her teeth and grasping a broken quill, stabbing the page with every lesson she had to recall and put to use. After four, she was somewhat faster at the sums with a new quill and her face matched her shade of hair. Her head and her heart burned.

Older-Westlie could remember the wordless, mindless, unintelligible chant of hatred that built through her younger’s mind, slowly feeding on every ounce of fear she stored of Arthur, of her tutor, of the ledger, of the eyeballs on the shelf, trying to digest the fact she didn’t matter, they didn’t care - nobody would ever care about her. It continued, growing, feeding, burning like fire until she saw red, ready to cry again but shoving away the tears. She couldn’t cry. She had to do this; needed to do this. Each sum got harder and harder to do until finally Westlie bit down on her arm with enough force to draw blood and let loose a muffled scream into her sleeve. Five seconds. Ten seconds. It hurt and she couldn’t breathe. It all hurt so, so much. And she remembered straightening up and sitting at the desk, panting, slightly less overcome but exhausted from that nameless emotion at the injustice and the cruelty and the pain of the sums. Her sleeve might have shown a few drops of blood; there was definitely a bruise. The memory tended to blank after that. It was fuzzy if she smashed the already broken quill against the desk until it splintered or she just doubled down on the notes until the secretary came to fetch her, but the emotion she didn’t have a name for yet was there and it burned a hole in her heart.

By the next day she’d calmed down; it no longer felt like the anger would consume her, but the spark was there, along with the feeling of power that it gave her to still hand over the ledgers at the end of the day - for them to be neat and finished and for Arthur’s approval to be grunt of acknowledgement. (Although that fanned the anger too. How dare that be all he gave her, she remembered thinking, after her fear and horror and aching left arm.) But Westlie remembered the satisfaction of conquering injustice and swearing she would again. The anger could fuel her.

Older-Westlie knew, after another fifteen or so years of experience, that anger wasn’t only fuel, but her very best friend. Closer than enigmatic Morgan and more powerful than sadness. With anger, she could wrap reigns around it and harness it to her bidding. She could defend against enemies and wrap it around her like a shield to endure.

And she had endured. But no more.

No more silence, no more pleasing, no more struggling, no more nights in the shop with burned out candles, no more crying to sleep over one of his calloused stupid decisions; no more rejection, no more refusals, no more begging to fly, no more begging to get out of the shop, no more sneers, no more pain. Respect would never appear; there would be no approval, no kindness, no reward. It didn’t have to be this way. No more suffering. 

With a second deep breath, Westlie stepped forward again, hardened her gaze, and reached the end of the hallway. She threw open the door so hard it bounced against the wall, paperwork in hand; teeth clenched, anger flaming. She willed its tendrils to extend beyond her five foot-five heighth and fill the room. She willed it, with all her power, to reach and throttle the neck of the man in front of her.

“How dare you.”

Arthur Faire looked nonchalantly up from his paperwork over his pince-nez spectacles. “I’ll pretend you didn’t just put a dent in the wall for the fourth time.”

“Fuck your dent. I told you I wouldn’t do your dirty work!”

“You don’t tell people shit.” Arthur snapped. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh as if the very explanation pained him. “Westlie,” he began, as if talking to a very small child. “There are, occasionally, things that must go missing to raise your status in the world.”

“Fuck that, I said I won’t! I won’t do it, and you cannot force my hand! Pick someone else!”

Arthur slammed his fist on the table and stood up, leaning forward over his desk. “You will do what I say!”

"Fuck what you say! You're wrong and I refuse!"

Arthur scoffed, sneering at the paperwork she clenched in her fist. “What is that? A list of Captains who turned you down for your incompetence? You can’t even take orders from me.”

Westlie threw the stack at his face. It burst into several pages fluttering unspectacularly throughout the room, the more important pages luckily settling on his desk. “I gave you three chances. Three chances to recind. But since your cuntish ass couldn’t handle a bit of legality; I’ve packed my bags and I leave tonight. Sign on the dotted line, you fiend.”

Arthur scoffed again, snatching the paper and staring at it. “Resignation? You’re resigning? You can’t resign. You’re my daughter.”

Westlie spit at his feet.

His face instinctively twitched with distaste and she relished the taste of the blood she’d drawn. Arthur sighed, and sat down again, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs with the motion of hatred he generally used for Captains he didn’t like - and her. When he used it Westlie generally knew to back down patch things over with a form of compromise but not today. Never today. He was never going to agree and this was why she prepared. She gathered her anger and pulled it closer, guarding herself.

“And what if I don’t sign?”

“I’m leaving anyway. You can’t stop me.”

His lip curled. “I know every Captain in the Reach and every shop in London knows your temper. None of them will take you.”

Westlie’s lip curled up in a dry, menacing grin. “I’ve already signed with a Captain.”

“As what?” He scoffed, reaching down into his desk and pulling out a tumbler and crystal glass of whiskey. She’d really ticked him off now. He poured a single glass and sneered when he saw her glance. “Sorry, I don’t give angry children liquor.”

Westlie's anger flared and she bit her tongue before responding. “Dont bother. I only drink with friends. I’m First Mate.” Arthur scoffed into his glass in disbelief and it fogged up. “Now sign my resignation.”

He curled his lip as he swallowed and thumped the now-empty glass down on the desk, muttering something under his breath. He grabbed the nearest pen and jabbed it into the paper, scribbling something vaguely similar to Capt. Faire. He rang the bell next and Westlie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She’d have to escape wouldn’t she. She didn’t quite plan for an escape.

“Mary, please come escort Miss Faire to her room.”

Faster than she’d seen him move before, Arthur rose and stepped around his desk, grabbing Westlie’s arm before she could twist out of his grasp. He yanked her closer, gripping it so tight she felt her muscles quiver. “You will never escape me,” he hissed. The scent of whiskey cracked even her practiced shield of anger and Westlie felt a shiver run down her spine. “And I will make your life a living hell until you come crawling back.”

He shoved her away as a knock sounded at the door and he leaned back on his desk, a clear sneer on his face, arms crossed, papers scattering the floor. Westlie took a breath and straightened, forcing herself to look him in the eye. She gathered her anger. “Fuck you.”

To her credit, Mary didn’t even raise an eyebrow as she entered the room and assuming it was one of their regular monthly spats. “Miss Faire?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

Westlie flipped her father the middle finger behind her back as she went out.

-=-

Predictably, Mary locked the door as she left. Westlie scoffed to herself as she pulled the only cap she owned low over her curls. They didn’t know her. They thought locking her in a room trapped her - or Morgan for that matter - and Westlie gave a silent prayer of thanks to her sister for being an uncontrollable escape artist. She stopped for a full moment as fear pierced her heart.

Morgan. She hadn’t told Morgan.

She offered another prayer to her sister to be safe and stay as far away as possible. She was sorry- so sorry. Westlie pulled up the loose floorboard in her closet and rubbaged a bit, grabbing a long length of rope. She looped it around the bedpost and tied it off. The motion was easy, practiced. Westlie grabbed her carpetbag - her trunk was already at the dock - and hesitated.

Morgan.

Their last letter exchange a few days ago had been predictable. Morgan was off in < > and Westlie was in London. Westlie remembered ranting about work, per usual, something about that bloated Captain who kept making trips to sell seeds, and some asshole explorer who stocked up on supplies and tried to beg off paying every time. She hadn’t written to her about the... other job; the evil job. She hadn’t had a plan then, it was so fast. Anger was at the controls after Arthur was such an ass, and she’d blown through her preparations, packed her trunk the night before, chartered the engine at midnight. Should she know? And Westlie closed her eyes, trying to glimpse her sister’s soft face and lively eyes that only sharpened with excitement, not rage. Arthur didn’t care about her because she’d never have anything to do with the shop. She was carefree and it should stay that way. She didn’t know his evils. Our evils, Westlie thought somewhat sullenly. But Morgan. Westlie set down her bag and slipped over to her writing desk, grabbing a sheet of paper and fumbling open the ink.

           Dearest Morgan,

      They’ve tried to lock me up, but in a few minutes I’ll be down to the docks and boarding an engine away from everything. I can’t abide Father any longer. A pair of dreadnaughts couldn’t tie me to this house. I refuse to live in that monster’s shadow and I refuse to do whatever grotesque thing he imagines next. When I’m gone, he’ll hire another poor soul to fill my shoes and for their sake I hope they have less morals. Don’t worry about me. I’ve secured a position on a engine. (I won’t tell you with whom.) But he’s a good man and a good captain. You would be proud.

      Please don’t chase after me. Father’s ire is already riled and he’ll undoubtedly try to track me down on his own. I don’t want him angry at you. Just lay low. Be safe. Take another trip to < > if you have to to stay out of his path. I’ll see you someday.

         I love you. I will always love you.

         Your only and dearest sister,

                             Wes

Westlie folded it with a deft, practiced move and tapped her foot softly as she waited for the wax to melt. There were footsteps down the hall. Light ones, Mary; and heavier ones, Arthur. They passed her door and the handle jiggled. Westlie’s breath caught in her throat. She made a silent lunge for the rope, but it wasn’t necessary. Their footsteps continued down the hall after making sure it was locked and they faded out of hearing range.

Quickly now.

She poured the wax, stamped the letter, and scribbled the address on the back. Something-something express mail. She’d pay the freighter double. No time to think about it.

Westlie shoved it in her carpet bag and grabbed the rope. Sliding down the side of the two-story townhome was simple, especially at dusk. Usually it was with Morgan at the bottom hissing expletives in the dead of night - or climbing back up in the dark after some sort of drunken escapade, which was, obviously, four times harder. Westlie tied a rock to the bottom of the rope and threw it back into the room, resisting the temptation to break a window while she was at it.

They were already close to the docks. She hid as much of her hair under the cap as she could and then struck off at a brisk walk; running would be too obvious. The blood pounded in her ears to her gait, one step of freedom, two steps of freedom. The city pulsed around her, oblivious. There was a brisk scent in the air; several women walking past with tipped hats, murmuring together. A ragged man, looking as if he just got out of prison wandering aimlessly. He looked at her, tipped an invisible hat. Westlie nodded back. Several captains wandered by, examining a map, one holding a bottle of something purple? Something red, perhaps. He laughed uproarously. A fancy blemmigan hopped by. A wistful woman in large, somewhat old-fashioned skirts stood outside a building, handing out pamphlets.

Westlie took a deep breath and kept her eyes on the pavement.

She turned a corner, turned another corner; slipped through an alleyway. Had she always known this was the quickest way to the docks? It seemed familiar, but more light. There was no oppressive scent of mushrooms. Maybe a soft breeze had blown through today. Maybe she was just in a better mood.

Westlie scrutinized the dock as she got closer, looking for any evidence of Arthur Faire - but there was none. Unless he was on the ship itself, she had escaped. She was almost free.

She grit her teeth and pulled her anger around her one last time. One last run. One final step.

Westlie stepped into the open and briskly walked through the busy dock. Most of the people about were skyfarer crew, lounging, drinking on boxes. A few whistled and Westlie curled her lip in distaste. She slipped the letter and two sovereigns into the hand of a cargo ship’s First Mate. That could be me later, she realized, quietly, as hurried off to her ship for passage, the Tundra.

Westlie gave one final look around at the docks and the city as she stepped through the hatch. It was soft and dusky. She might miss that, but within herself she noted, quietly, she wouldn’t miss the city, she would miss her and Morgan in the city. No more rampage of terror, no more drunken songs, no more bar fights. No thefts, no vandalisms, no secrets. On board, there was also no angry man, no sullen look of disappointment either. Arthur Faire was not there. He hadn’t found this captain. She hadn’t been traced. Perhaps her father taught her one good thing: always pay a little extra.

The captain stepped down from the cab and tipped his hat. “Miss Faire?”

“Yes. Could I be shown to my quarters?”

“Absolutely. Would you please, Nancy?”

An unremarkable woman stepped forward and offered her hand for the bag. Westlie handed it to her gratefully as her shoulder started to ache. “When do you plan to depart, Captain? Can I encourage it to be as soon as possible?”

“In a hurry, Miss Faire?” She didn’t like his smile and resisted the urge to scowl. “We depart in ten minutes. Fear not.”

“I have urgent business.” Westlie said, making an attempt to keep the salt out of her voice.

Nancy took a small step into the hallway. “Ready, ma’am?”

“Yes- Yes please.”

They walked down the hallway into the crew’s quarters where a separate bed had been made up. Her trunk was placed at the side: a few books, her shop clothes, an extra travel skirt. She really hadn’t left anything had she. Westlie glanced inside her carpet bag. There was a portrait of all of them as a family. She couldn’t imagine why she brought that; Morgan was cute, perhaps. She’d have to rip off half the portait to get her father out; not worth the effort. A pair of silver earrings they’d stolen together. A bag of sovereigns.

That was really it, wasn’t it? There was nothing else she wanted to remember. Nothing other than stolen earrings and the clothes on her back. And Westlie felt free.

[onsunnyside]

✎ 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Lloyd Hansen x stripper!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | possible DARK undertones but it’s really just Lloyd being Lloyd: toxic relationship, manipulation, power imbalance, mean!Lloyd, threatening/blackmail. sex worker!reader, SMUT - minors DNI, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation, dumbification, gunplay, choking, dom/sub undertones. implied: oral (f), somnophilia, reader with other men. 

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Lloyd comes to take you back home. Based on these asks (1) (2) and written for my I Can Fix Him Party.

𝗪/𝗖 | 1.48K

𝗔/𝗡 | ahh I saw the gray man today and can’t wait for all the Lloyd love !! He’s super fun to write hehe, I hope you all enjoy this little thing I wrote half asleep, there’s bound to be mistakes but as always, all mistakes are my own. this was written for my ❤️‍🔥 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Say it, or I blow your brains out—not that there’s much up there anyway.” 

“Eat shit and die, asshole.” 

The safety clicks off and you clench your teeth, pressing your bare back against the jagged brick wall. Your ankles get a little weak, either stupid fear or the seven-inch heels. 

“You wanna run that mouth again? Or should I get a little trigger happy?” Lloyd cocks his head, and his moustache twitches with his sly smile. 

Although your heart thumps against your chest, you refuse to show weakness—for however long you can last. It’s already longer than you thought, but as soon as he brought out the handgun, you knew it was only a matter of time. “Do it, I dare you.” 

Lloyd, the fucking sociopath, points the gun past your face and fires, the loud shot booms through the empty alleyway and rattles your brain. A ringing resonates in your ears, and a painful sharpness blooms from your temples. 

“A few weeks in another city and acting ballsy isn’t going to change the fact that you’re right back where you started.” He brings the smoking muzzle too close for comfort, “Say, I’m your whore.” 

You open your mouth for another snide remark but are cut off with a quiet whimper. You slump against the bricks when Lloyd traces the muzzle down your chest, so delicate that if it weren’t freezing cold steel and still smelling like gunpowder, you’d mistake it for his strangely soft hands. 

Just a simple touch and you were his pathetic girl again. 

“Say, I’m just your dumb whore, daddy. I can’t think for myself, I’m all yours.” His tone drips with smugness. All along he knew that little touch would break down your final walls, but he enjoys your banter, watching you squirm and get all heated up. It makes him rock hard. “Say it, sunshine.” 

You refuse, shaking your head and turning away. Setting your glare on one of his men stationed at the end of the alley, their mere presence a brutal reminder that wherever you go, Lloyd won’t be that far behind. There’s nothing and no one able to stop him, not moving cities or even countries, changing your name and transforming your entire appearance. 

Admittedly, you didn’t do much of that, you couldn’t since life had been hard enough. All you could do was move to another city for a few weeks before coming back when cash got too tight—and you found yourself in the same city you escaped from, and working at the fucking rival club of your first. 

You were back at the beginning with the same name, same look, same job, same problems, and the same man sniffing you out like a dog. 

Worst of all, you don’t even think you hate him anymore—or if you hated him at the start, and maybe you enjoy the chase that always leads to you getting caught. Maybe you liked him, no, you definitely liked him, regardless of how much you didn’t want to. 

Lloyd tsks in disappointment, tapping the muzzle on your hard nipple. “I guess I’ll just find that one friend of yours again, has her nose healed from last time?”

Your face falls, “Please—don’t, please, Lloyd. Please don’t drag her into this again.” 

He raises a brow, “oh, now you’re being sweet? Are you gonna be a good girl for me now, pumpkin? Or does daddy have to put this gun somewhere else?” Lloyd taunts, licking his lips as his eyes trail down your scantily clad body, eventually landing on the tiny black thong. “Someplace tight, wet, and fucking delicious.” He growls, lewdly rubbing over the bulge in his pants. 

Indecent memories of shiny steel, sodden fabric and bruised skin flash through your mind. 

Lloyd has you pinned against his desk, the tray of breakfast long forgotten since you walked into his office as he was polishing his guns.  

“My pretty girl in a pretty apron, I must be doing something right.” He snorts, “Maybe I’ve been forgiven and blessed for all that shit last week, hm?”

You can’t answer him, all too lost in the pleasure as he rubs the barrel of his gun between your folds, paying special attention to your sore clit. Your hips jerk upward, meeting his slow motions as you grasp his bare shoulders, digging your nails into the muscle.

“You’re real sensitive,” He observes, tightening his hand around your throat, “Aw, did daddy treat your button too rough this morning? I just couldn’t help myself, you’re so beautiful when you sleep, could practically smell you all ready for me. It was a good wake-up call, right baby?”

Since you’re too fucked out to do anything, he forcibly makes you nod and hooks his fingers in your mouth to move your lips.

“Yes, daddy, I’m just a little whore who wants to be fucked while I sleep, and bred until I cry.” Lloyd says in a high-pitched voice, then gasps, “Oh, that can’t be true. I never knew my girl was such a whore.” He presses the weapon harder against you, even dipping the muzzle to your drippy hole, nearly fucking you through your panties. “Let’s see if I heard you right: you want to be used, fucked stupid and pumped full?”

“Daddy—I, fuck.” You gasp when he pulls the cotton to the side, harshly rubbing your swollen clit with the cold steel. 

“Still can’t speak? That’s okay, I know what to do.” He proceeds to slide the hard barrel up and down your slit, alternating between speed and pressure, bullying your button until you cry out. “If only you could tell me how much you like my gun on your pretty pussy, I’d let you come.” 

You whine at that, eyes squeezed shut as his hand returns to your neck, keeping you upright. 

As the weapon pulls away, he prods the muzzle at your bare hole, “Look at that…” He trails off, holding the gun inches from your face. The steel is gleaming with your arousal, “I guess you are a whore, sunshine.” He smiles widely, bringing the handgun to his mouth for a small taste, “You did way better than I thought you could, pumpkin. You gonna polish the rest of daddy’s guns like a good girl?”

Your thighs clench tightly, an unmistakable wetness soaking through the fabric. “I’ll come with you—just leave her alone, please.”

“You’re so sexy when you beg,” He groans. “And, as much as I love watching you flaunt your body, my bed is cold. So, gather whatever shit you have,” he nods over his shoulder at the back entrance of the strip club, the music flowing into the night air, “And, tell your sleazy boss you’re going home.”

“But—”

“And, if he stops you, we’re going to have some fun and the pervert can finally get what he’s been wishing for.” 

You know that look, it’s all too familiar. It’s the same shadow that made you notice him in the first place. 

After giving a client a private show, doing far more than was professionally ‘allowed,’ you spotted a man in the next room. Immediately, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that this stranger knew what you did. 

He was clad in a patterned shirt and white pants, slowly sipping from a glass cup as he gestured you over with two fingers. When you didn’t move, he brought out a wad of cash, then another and another until there was a healthy stack of bills on the table. Far more than what you made in the last two months. 

“I want you for the rest of the night. Don’t mention other men, don’t leave my sight, and you can walk away with double that.” He points to the cash, spreading his legs wide as you try to ignore the intimidating bulge in his pants. “Hopefully, that guy prepped you, if not,” He chuckles to himself, “I guess you won’t be walking away—more like, crawling.” 

Lloyd tucks the gun into the holster and his gold pinky ring gleams, “I’m going to fuck you in front of your boss, let him see how pretty you are getting split open on my cock—then I’m gonna cut off his boner, and shove it in his mouth so he can taste what dirty, slimy, scumbag he is.” He cups your cheek, darkness clouding his blue eyes when he swipes a drop of some bastard’s cum from your skin. “And, when we get back home, you’re going to give me the name and description of whoever you just blew.”

“Lloyd—it’s confidential.”

“You think I care?” He spins you around, steadying you with his big hands on your hips before patting your ass, squeezing the flesh. “Off you go, and be quick, I have work tomorrow.” Lloyd silently praises the paper-thin garment on your lower half. “Remember you don’t have to worry about a thing, baby. Daddy’s gonna take care of everything.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: well Lloyd is definitely one of my faves atm !! he’s so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 pls know I wrote this half asleep and it’s 4am so goodnight !!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! This was written for my ❤️‍🔥 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[therenlover]

One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Tags: Smut, SoftDom!Zemo, Hook Up, Semi-Public Sex, Drinking, Safe Sex, Explicit Consent, First Meeting, Wall Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 4200~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

---------

Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.

It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.

Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.

After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.

The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.

You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.

There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.

“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.

He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?

With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”

Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”

He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”

So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”

It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”

You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”

“More of a title,”

He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”

“Not like. I am,”

Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”

“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though… not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”

You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”

“Is that right?”

“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”

Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”

“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”

The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!

“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.

The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.

“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”

His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.

“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.

“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”

You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”

“And so smart,”

“Move, Baron!”

At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.

“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.

“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”

Your response was breathless; a confession.

“Not with you,”

Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.

“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.

With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”

That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”

“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”

That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.

Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.

For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.

“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.

Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”

“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?

“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.

“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.

You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.

“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”

You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.

“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”

You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.

“God, yes,”

“Wonderful,”

He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.

“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”

Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.

The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.

You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.

For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.

It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.

“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.

You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.

“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.

The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.

“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.

Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.

“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.

“They have janitors,”

A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”

Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.

“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”

“Oh, you heard that?”

You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”

“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”

Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

“There you are!”

“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”

There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.

They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?

Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”

The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.

“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.

The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”

“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”

You felt it was a good time to chime in.

“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…

“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”

You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”

He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”

As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.

“Who was that?”

“None of your business, James,”

“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”

“I believe that was my used rubber,”

“ZEMO!”

-------

a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!

Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3

[navybrat817]

This Is the Hunt

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Soft!Dark Female Reader Summary: Ransom likes the hunt, especially when you turn him down. Word Count: Almost 800 Warnings: Threat of sexual assault, non-con touching (do not read it this upsets you!), misogynistic thoughts, implied major character death, swearing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. A/N: A Sinday treat for @syntheticavenger​ 's 8k Spooky Challenge. Congrats, lovely! It was a fun challenge to keep this to less than 800 words!

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog ​ for new fics and notifications. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please comment and reblog if you’re inclined! 18+ please!!! - Banners by the lovely @its-just-may ​.

Ransom didn't like the word no. Call him spoiled or egotistical, but he was a man who got what he wanted. Tonight, he wanted you. And he wouldn't let anything get in his way of his goal.

He knew your type… You looked innocent enough, but the revealing "costume" screamed that you were an attention whore. Hell, you'd probably cream your panties the moment he took control. He wondered if you'd drip when you were choking on his cock. 

His hunger for you grew as you turned down offers for drinks. He was going to have you and you'd thank him for giving you the fuck of your life. You'd probably beg him for more like a cock drunk slut. Maybe, you'd cry when he left.

Pathetic.

Flashing his signature smirk as he made his way over, he ignored your feigned look of disinterest. It made the hunt more exciting. "So… What are you supposed to be? A siren? Vampire?"

You glanced down at your dress and cape with a shrug. "Just felt like dressing up."

"And dress up you did," he said, running a finger down your arm. Your skin felt so warm. How hot would your pussy feel? "Let me buy you a drink."

"No, thanks. I'm waiting for my friends," you said politely. 

"You don't have to worry about that since I'm here," Ransom said, putting the right amount of charm in his smile. "C'mon. One drink."

You took a step back, giving him a once over. "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks."

He chuckled after a moment. Were you actually turning him down? "Listen, pumpkin-"

"No, you listen. There are plenty of girls here who would love a drink, but I am not one of them. I would appreciate it if you left me alone."

Blood boiled in Ransom's veins as he leaned in close. Who the fuck did you think you were to talk to him like that? "If you wanted to be left alone, why did you dress like a slut?"

Anger flashed in your eyes as you grabbed the nearest drink and threw it in his face. "Go fuck yourself," you snapped, spinning on your heels and storming away. 

"Bitch!" he yelled, wiping the liquid from his eyes. A few people glanced his way as he pushed through the crowd, looking for you. It wasn't enough for you to turn him down, but humiliate him in the process?

Fuck. That. 

The cool night air hit him as he went outside, looking both ways. His teeth flashed as he spotted you walking, quickly heading in your direction. "Where are you going, pumpkin?"

You looked back for a second before you began to run, your cape flowing behind you with each step. He quickly gained on you, tempted to tackle you on the sidewalk. Would anyone stop him if he did?

He smirked again when you turned into an alley. He couldn't recollect the last time he was this excited, but he'd still make you pay. "Too easy," he chuckled, barely out of breath as he followed. It gave him a chance to take in your form in the dim light, frantically searching for a way out. "Why run if you didn't want me to catch you?" he taunted as he stomped over, grabbing your arm.

You shrieked as he pushed you against the bricks. "Wait-"

"I'm not waiting, you fucking bitch," he snarled as he shoved his leg between your thighs, making your costume ride up. He leaned in close, so you could feel his breath. "You're wet. I can feel it. Knew you'd be a slut."

You trembled as he rocked his knee against your heat. "...I like the chase."

"I don't give a shit what you like. I wanted to make you feel good… but now I want it to hurt."

Your laughter surprised him. "Oh… it'll hurt."

Ransom didn't register the movement behind him until he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He didn't even have a chance to scream as someone pulled him away from you, blood flowing from his wound as his back hit the ground. He sputtered as he tried to cover it with his hand, seeing two pairs of glowing eyes staring down at him. Who, or what, the fuck were they?!

"I told you…" you said calmly as you pushed yourself off the wall and fixed your dress. "I was waiting for my friends. Well… boyfriends. And they don't like others touching me."

"What… the fuck?" Ransom coughed as you crouched down and smiled. He was wrong… There was nothing innocent about you.

"Men like you are all the same. It's pathetic," you taunted as you patted his cheek. "Now stay still. My boyfriends are hungry."

[navstuffs]

IT'S CARNAVAL!

Masterlist of my Adrian Chase's fanfics. REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Pairing: Adrian Chase x GN!Reader

Summary: a series of headcanons of you, Adrian enjoying Carnival (+ Chris).

Warning: alcohol use (NEVER ACCEPT ALCOHOL FROM STRANGERS), SMUT, penetration, cum, public sex

Authors note: SPECIAL CARNIVAL/MARDI GRAS/CARNAVAL. for those who dont know, imagine Carnival as big street party with ppl dressed in sometimes costumes, having fun, loud music, drinking (a lot) and dancing (adrian and chris kind of thing). i swear this came to me at 1 am AND I HAD TO WRITE. i tried to keep it as neutral as possible to respect all cultures since different countries celebrate Carnival in different ways. credits to my husband who gave the idea for Peacemaker's costume. credits of the gif to @bigilante

You told Adrian one of your favorite events of year finally arrived in February, Carnival. Adrian didn't know a lot about it and you told him you were presented with it by your friends

You explained to him he could go dressed as anything he wanted, drink as much he wanted and dance how he wanted, AND HE WOULDN'T BE JUDGED.

"WHERE DO I SIGN IN?"

You and Adrian decided to invite Chris because he has been needing some fun since his dad's death. He had been so depressed and quite frankly, you were worried about him.

"We can celebrate the racist piece of shit's death? And be with my favorite people in the entire world? Dance and drink to this?" Adrian suggested smiling back at Chris and you. Your man was so dense

"Damnit Adrian be a little more compassionate man okay? My old man has died" cried Chris, sniffling on a tissue. You start to apologize for the insensitive comments of your boyfriend, giving an accusatory glance to Adrian. He mouths a silent "What? What did I do?"

"How much puss and cock will I get?" Chris suddenly asks.

You roll your eyes as Adrian opens a smile. This is what you get for being compassionate.

So on the day of the event, you decide to meet in an alley close to the party, coming separately to not spoil your costumes. You are the first one to arrive, dressed as Legolas from Lord of the Rings to tease Adrian.

Your man had told he had a crush on the elf prince since he was a child, fascinated with how badass and cool Legolas looked during a drunk marathon of Lord of the Rings- Extended Version and you couldn't wait for him to see you dressed like that

To no surprise, when you see Adrian he is dressed as Peacemaker. He has a helmet made of tin foil and you have to admire his attention to details, from the red shirt with a dove on it, the pants, blue gloves, and boots. He even has his own stuffed Eagly attached to his arm

When Adrian sees you, he stops in his tracks, gulping. He looks up and down at your body slowly. He absorbs how the costume hugs you in the correct places, especially in your ass. When he notices you have elf ears, Adrian feels his arousal growing so he turns his back against you, before he loses control of himself

"You even put elf ears? Do you want me to have a heart attack before I turn 35?"

"After this, we can enjoy the night, Vigilante"

You whisper the last part in Adrian's ear and he almost grabs your hand to take you to a dark alley he saw down the street, isolated enough so one could hear or say anything

"IT IS ROCK AND ROLL CARNIVAL, BITCHES!"

It is Chris. Walking towards you, he is dressed as a Kiss band member, with red lipstick on, white make-up, a cheap black wig, a painted star on his eyes. He wears a black top with tight pants and waits, do those boots have heels? Chris attracts all the looks from people as he passes, some even clapping. You thought you heard a small whistle coming from Adrian.

You don't know if you should be amazed or disgusted.

"That is fucking awesome, P! You are probably gonna be the sexiest thing, of course, after my Legolas!"

When Chris sees Adrian's outfit he rolls his eyes, not surprised. When he sees yours though, he blinks in surprise. He points to you back to Adrian and your boyfriend just agrees with the kinkiest smile ever.

To Adrian and Chris's surprise, the party is happening on the street. There are people dressed in costumes, some not but everyone seems to be having fun. A loud exciting music plays and it is impossible to not dance. Chris, of course, gets all the attention. Everyone looks at him, some people whistling, calling him "Sexy Thing." Chris notices a tall Barbarian with a thick beard eyeing him the whole time

You get a few tequilas shots to start, cheering for friendship. Adrian (the weakest on alcohol of you three) starts dancing, timid. You reassure no one will judge him when a woman dressed as a nun with her ass out, pass drinking and singing, followed by a man with devil's horn and super-tight shorts

Your boyfriend is now fully dancing and vibrating to the song now. You laugh with Peacemaker, clinking your shot glasses and turning at once

After at least four shots, you have Adrian twerking against our leg as you grind against him, holding his hips. Chris is nowhere to be found, probably finding himself in the arms of the sexy Barbarian

The night continues and you and Adrian, due to the alcohol, dance with other people now, especially a group dressed as Star Wars characters. You two accept free drinks from a short Darth Vader and a tall Yoda, who promise you this will land you on the moon

"We shouldn't drink this Adrian, what if they want to steal our kidney?"

"Why would Yoda want to steal our kidney, baby?!"

The red drink doesn't taste really good, going down your throat burning but in minutes, you start feeling your body on fire. Adrian seems to feel the same by the way he looks at you, his face red

"I know a place, come on."

You let yourself be guided by Adrian, passing the others as a blur.

Adrian takes you to the dark alley he saw before, away enough from the main street. He kisses you against the wall. You two never made out so hungrily like this before. Adrian's hands are desperate, going inside your outfit to feel your skin. You are so hot now with all the alcohol and the people walking. If anyone decides to go to that alley to pee, they would catch you, which makes things more exciting. Adrian's hands go down your ass, grabbing it. Adrian moans as he presses his hard-on against your leg, eager to have you.

You two share a long hot kiss, with Adrian biting your lips. If you weren't leaking before, you were now.

"Shit, babe, if we don't stop now I will ruin your outfit"

"I am warm anyway."

Adrian pulls your pants down and you open your legs, placing your hands on the wall for support. You bite your lips with anticipation. Your heart is beating fast as Adrian unzips his pants, leading his cock to your entrance. He is so different tonight, shoving at once, not as careful as the other nights. Your moans are muffled by Adrian's hand over your mouth. The sounds of people passing near you make your stomach twist, nervous but at the same time more aroused. Adrian has never fucked you so hard like this, as the thrill of getting caught is affecting him as well. You and Adrian never did that before and you know you won't last long. Adrian seems to realize that as well, whispering loud enough so you could hear.

"Cum for me, babe. Let it all go."

Your eyes roll with pleasure as Adrian cums on you not long after. He helps you get up and adjust yourself, your legs still shaking with the orgasm. You both are breathless, Adrian's glasses titled to one side. He gives you a more calm and passionate kiss, holding you while you two calm yourself.

"That was..."

"Shit."

You two go back to the party, deciding to never accept drinks from any Darth Vader and Yoda again when Peacemaker appears in front of you in the middle of the sea of people. His lipstick is all messed up and he isn't wearing any more wig. Also, his blacktop is gone

He looks between you, understanding what happened based on Adrian's relaxed smile. Chris holds you and Adrian on each arm and screams

"I fucking love Carnival!"

The next morning, you wake up in Adrian's bed butt naked. Adrian is at your side, naked as well, wearing just the Peacemaker's boots on. You rub your eyes, the clock showing almost 10 am.

Your movements end up waking up Adrian. He smiles lazily at you, letting his head against the pillow.

"It seems we had a freaky night, Adrian."

"All I remember was you begging me to fuck you in boots. Do you even know how we got home?"

"I remember we befriend a Scooby doo and Shaggy and we invite them to be our new couple BFFs?"

"Did we give them Scooby snacks?"

You laugh, nuzzling against Adrian as he covered you two with the thin sheet. You needed a shower but it could wait five minutes more.

[2-fast-2-curious]

OK THAT VENOM FIC-

Please I need a part 2 where after a while they both find out about each others identities/secrets

Blow All My Friendships to Sit in Hell With You

AKA: Three Times Matt Failed to Catch You With Venom and the One Time He Did

Here's Part 1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Gender Neutral Reader, implied Eddie Brock x Venom

Warnings: Mentions of bad people and Venom eating bad people. Eddie and Venom being dysfunctional.

Additional Requests:

@paradisae I want a part two so badly 🙈 maybe Matt somehow finds out about venom beeing in reader and thinks she did all the stuff he knows venom did before. And there's so much potential for confused Matt 😂😂🥰

@pleasantlandcashwobbler Part 2🤭

You wrapped up your workday and locked up the office. Venom had grown restless and was eager to get out of there

I’m sorry I’m not as good of a host as Eddie. I’ll try not to get too offended that you’re so ready to leave my body.

It’s not that morsel.

I know I’m just teasing. You understood Venom and Eddie had a special bond but sometimes it did make you feel like a third wheel.

We’re just excited to see Eddie. We learned a lot today and we have a lot to tell him.

Yeah, I’m sure building financial models on Excel is a lot more fun than chasing down sources for scoops.

You were juggling multiple books in your arms as well as the office’s trash and could barely see in front of you as you walked down the stairs. When you missed the last step you almost fell over and dropped your mug, luckily Venom steadied your stride before you could crash into Matt who happened to be standing at the bottom of the stairs. It almost looked like he had been ready to catch you or whatever you might drop.

This was no surprise to you, during your time as office neighbours, Matt had witnessed you tripping over your own feet multiple times. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great, thanks.” Matt followed you to the building’s alley where you both dropped off your bags of trash.

“Now that your hands are a little less full I can give you this.” Matt pulls out a container of golden liquid and you can clearly make out circles of carrots and eggs noodles suspended in the transparent broth. “I got it from the deli down the block. Hopefully, it makes you feel better.”

“That’s so kind, thank you, Matt.” You hoped among Venom’s talents was masking the guilt that was in your tone of voice. You felt so bad that Matt actually thought you weren’t feeling well. “I hope you have a great weekend.”

You and Matt said goodbye and headed in opposite directions. You dropped off your books at the library and your mind was so quiet you almost forgot Venom was there.

Turn NOW

Venom what are you doing? I’m not Eddie, I can’t-

You’ll do just fine

Venom took over, getting you into a dark alley and helping you scale the side of the building and onto the roof. You peeked over the ledge of the roof holding your breath as Matt paused at the entrance of the dead-end before moving on.

He’s been following us since we left the office.

It’s a popular street, maybe he was just going the same way as us.”

Even you knew how stupid you sounded right now.

So should I not drink the soup?

It’s not like that. He’s just suspicious.

Venom had you leap from roof to roof because he claimed it would get you home quickest.

Why would he be-

That’s what you mean when you said you and Eddie have met him before. You meant he’s met you and Eddie in your Venom form.

Yes but he wasn’t how he is now either

Well I don’t think lawyers are required to wear suits 24/7

Our apartment is two floors below, the fourth window from the corner.

So how are you expecting us to do that exactly?

Venom chuckled and took over your limbs as you shut your eyes.

You can open your eyes now

One of Venom’s tendrils pushed open the window and carried your body through the window. Eddie was sitting at the breakfast bar typing on his laptop, unphased by your unusual entrance.

“I see you’re taking full advantage of having Venom. I hope he was on his best behaviour.” Eddie didn’t bother taking his eyes off of whatever documents were on his screen.

“I was a delight, Eddie, as always.” You rolled your eyes and gave Eddie’s shoulder a friendly squeeze, allowing Venom to transfer back over to their host.

You weren’t planning on spending your Saturday night running from your apartment to the office in the rain but your boss had texted you saying they urgently needed a file that had been accidentally left in the office. You dug through your pockets, looking for the keys to get into the building, your hands coming up empty every time. “Oh fuck me!” You say loudly to yourself. All the lights were off so you doubted anyone in the building could let you in.

One of the windows opened. “[Y/N]?”

“Matt, I’m so happy to see you!” That was a little white lie since you were always happy to see him. “Can you come down and let me in?”

“You’re going to freeze standing in the rain, I’ll just drop them down to you.”

Matt dropped the keys out the window, they clattered loudly as they landed by your feet on the sidewalk.

You let yourself into the building and hiked up the stairs. Matt had been walking from his office and met you on the second floor.

“Sorry I’ve got terrible reflexes.” You apologize, handing him back the slightly damp keys. You were also embarrassingly out of breath and your heart was racing. Whether it was from being around Matt or the stairs you weren’t sure.

“Oh don’t worry about it.” Matt tucked the keys back into his pocket. “Sorry for prying, you just weren’t yourself the other day but I take it you feel better?”

“I am, thank you.” “Although I think standing in the rain might now just undone any help I got from your soup.”

“I guess I’ll just need to buy you more soup.”

You let Matt get back to work as you went into your workplace, fishing the spare key from its secret spot and grabbing the file you needed.

You dropped by Matt’s office to thank him again for letting you in. “How about the next time I buy you soup, it’s in a restaurant, and you don’t have to order just soup.”

You smiled. “Like a date?”

Matt smiled. “Yeah, it would be a date.”

“I would like that a lot, Matt.” Your face felt flushed and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“I was going to ask you out when we met in the hallway that day but I was worried that maybe I had waited too long and you didn’t like me anymore.”

You didn't know what to say so you nervously glanced down at your hands. Seeing the file you remembered what brought you into the office. “I should probably get going. My boss needs this.”

It had been weeks and other than grabbing lunch together or a quick coffee, Matt hadn’t taken you on a real date. Eddie and Venom knew how much you liked him so every time you had something planned with Matt, they made sure to be out of the apartment and out in the city being Lethal Protectors or whatever. But about an hour before your date, Matt would text you saying something had come up with work.

You know how it is.

You weren’t quite sure what he meant by that since you had a pretty standard office job and never worked weekends or evenings except when it was an absolute emergency.

Eddie and Venom came home extremely beat up from last night’s activities.

“You really shouldn’t let the bad guys lure you into construction sites.” Apparently, the loud ringing of things hitting the scaffolding had weakened Venom’s abilities so Mr. Eddie Brock had to get saved by the notorious man in black.

“Yeah, [Y/N] I’ll just ask them to reschedule to a more convenient location.” You rolled your eyes and handed Eddie an ice pack despite Venom’s insistence not to. Eddie hurt his shoulder by ‘being an idiot’ according to Venom and Venom was refusing to repair their host until Eddie learned his lesson.

Eddie winced as he pressed the ice to his skin. “He said he recognized my heartbeat. What do you think that means?”

Venom hissed. “He recognized my heartbeat, you idiot.”

“Don’t we share-” Eddie stopped himself. “It doesn’t matter. Why were you so eager to get out of there anyway?”

“Were we supposed to stick around and make small talk?”

Eddie looked at you like he was hoping you would settle this argument between him and Venom. “I just wanted to network but Venom made some kind of excuse about how they thought they left the oven on and bolted out of there.”

“Are you two really fighting over some dude whose face you’ve never seen?” You took a seat on the armchair opposite the couch where Eddie and Venom were sprawled and pulled on your boots.

“[Y/N], where are you going? Take us with you.”

“I’m going to the grocery store and you know I can’t take you Vee. Every time you come with us we end up spending an entire paycheck on food.”

Venom pouted. “I’m still gonna text you my list.”

You pushed your shopping cart down the aisle and reached up to grab a bottle of white wine on the top shelf.

“Do you need help?” asked a familiar voice. Matt gently grazed your shoulder. “You’re not sore or anything?”

You turned around about to ask Matt why you would be sore when you almost dropped the bottle of wine at the state of Matt’s face.

“I should be asking you that, not the other way around. Matt, you look terrible.” Quite frankly his injuries were quite gruesome but somehow he still looked handsome.

“Yeah, I fell”

“On your face? And I thought I was the clumsy one here.” You looked over at Matt's basket, all he had was a loaf of bread and jam.

“Do you mind if I?” Matt gestures to the contents of your cart.

“Not at all.”

Of course, the first thing he picks up is the weirdest. “What is this?”

“It’s a sheep’s brain…it’s a good source of iron and stuff.” You had no idea if that was true or not. Only that it was either sheep’s brain or people brain as far as Venom was concerned. “Great for mental aptitude, you should try it.

“Not that you’re not sharp and witty and stuff.” You added worried you had insulted him.

Matt chuckled “I wouldn’t know how to cook it.”

“Right. It’s kind of an acquired taste” You had no idea what sheep’s brains tasted like or how to cook it, Venom never needed you to cook it.

“Maybe you could show me sometime? How about next Saturday? I promise I won’t cancel.” When he gave you that smile, you had no idea how anyone in the court of law would choose to side against him. Maybe that's why he was such a good lawyer.

“Eddie, any chance you want to write an article about how the new celebrity diet trend is to eat sheep’s brains?” You asked as Venom opened the door for you and helped you with groceries.

“Um, how about no?” Eddie replied from the couch watching a hockey game. Since he’s no longer in pain, you were guessing he and Venom had made up.

You sighed and explained to Eddie your predicament. “So he’s blind right? Can’t you just make him a braised lamb shank and pretend it’s brains?”

“Eddie, he’s not an idiot” Venom hissed from the kitchen. You sat down next to Eddie on the couch, grabbing your laptop.

“I’m guessing he’s never had sheep’s brains so how is he going to know what isn’t sheep’s brains?” Eddie then proceeds to yell at the television about the puck being offside.

“He’s probably got one of those sophisticated palettes and knows how to do wine pairings and stuff. There’s no way I can trick him” You opened a couple of recipes in the tabs of your browser, trying to find the one that looked the most delicious. “Plus I can’t start a relationship off by being deceitful”

“Every relationship has its secrets, [Y/N].” Venom replied nuzzling into the side of your face.

“Even you and Eddie?”

“Even me and Eddie.”

Eddie was going on a date with someone he met online. He and Venom had mutually agreed to split up for the day since Eddie claimed Venom killed the mood and Venom wanted no part in witnessing Eddie’s pathetic attempts at flirting.

You and Venom were watching Netflix.

“It’s like the telenovelas you like to watch. Except with real people.” You paused in the middle of your explanation of Selling Sunset. “I mean they’re kind of real people.”

“You know I’ve changed my mind about Matt.” Venom tells you as he watches Chrishell tour another modern home with an infinite pool. “He is a much more suitable mate than Eddie.”

“Like for you or..?”

“No, you.” Venom replied. "Christine is so mean, why do we like her so much."

“For the record, I never thought Eddie was mate material.”

“Sure.”

You heard a heavy thud on the fire escape, you wanted to scream but Venom was somehow able to hold it back. You opened the window and saw a guy who perfectly matched the man in black everyone was constantly describing. You couldn’t see much of him but what you could see was bloody and bruised.

“I really need help and a place to hide out.” He coughed violently. “I thought if anyone would understand it would be you.”

“Are you sure you’re at the right place? We’ve never met before.”

“Listen, normally I think it’s cute how you try to compartmentalize your life. God knows I do it too. How we’ll see each other at work and pretend I wasn’t trying to talk your alternative form down from strangling a robber to death a couple hours ago.”

You didn't really have the energy to ask further questions but there was something about his voice that sounded familiar. “Um … okay?”

“I know our date wasn’t until tomorrow-”

“Matt?! You're the one who's been going around Hell's Kitchen doing this?”

You suddenly remembered there were three of you in this conservation. “Venom, don’t you have something to say?”

C’mon Vee, come out and talk to Matt. I promise I’m not mad, just confused.

Venom manifested themselves around your arm like a coiled bangle. “Hi, Matt.”

“This is Venom, they’re not usually with me. I just have temporary custody right now.” You explained guiding Matt’s hand to rest on Venom’s smooth form on your wrist. If he was surprised by the sliminess of Venom's skin, he didn't show it.

Matt used a finger to scratch Venom’s head, causing the symbiote to purr. “Like temporary since the day you’ve been sick?”

“I guess you could say that. That was one of the first times they spent the day with me.” You looked down at Matt’s body on your couch and realized that he was still very much injured and likely in pain. “I’m going to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.”

Venom, you knew this whole time!

You really liked him. Plus he’s really hurt, we can discuss this later.

As you examined Matt’s injuries Venom gave Matt the overview of their abilities, possibly to try to distract him from his pain. “Unfortunately I can only heal those who host me.”

“How often is Venom with you?” Matt asked. His shirt was off but you weren't able to appreciate it since you were stitching up a large gash on his side. You didn’t know the first thing about medical stitches so Venom mentioned something about hive mind knowledge and took over your hands.

“Today will only have been our second full day together.” You finished up the stitches and tried to clean up the wound as best as you could. "The first time was the day you thought I was sick."

You grabbed Matt’s bloody clothes and put them in the bathtub with Eddie Brock’s famous blood stain removal solution which basically involved an entire box of baking soda. “Wait so that time I saw you eat that guy who was harassing his ex?”

“Eddie”

You handed Matt the spare clothes you and Eddie keep around. “And that time I saw you throw that corrupt corporate executive into the Hudson River?”

“Also Eddie”

You walked over to the kitchen to grab some things for Matt. A glass of water, Tylenol, and a sandwich.

Matt thanked you when you came back to the couch with your tray of things. “Did having Venom inside Eddie kill him? Is that why Venom’s with you?”

“Eddie’s on a date right now.” You explained, although you were sure there were many times Venom wished they could kill Eddie.

“Just like how we are right now.” Venom added, making you put your head in your hands.

See, [Y/N], Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I can be perfectly well-behaved on dates.

Vee, I hardly think this counts as a date.

Matt was quietly trying to process all this new information. “Are you disappointed that I don't normally host an alien symbiote that allows me to climb up walls?”

“No, I’m actually really relieved.” Matt gave you a smile even though it looked like it hurt.

Kiss! Kiss! Kisss!

“Um… Venom thinks we should kiss.” You said awkwardly.

“It’s not just Venom who thinks that.”

That was as much of a green light as you needed. You leaned over, trying to be as gentle with Matt as possible. All you could think about as you pressed your lips against his was how unfair it was that he had such beautiful eyelashes.

Don’t even think about leaving any of your offspring in him, Vee.

Hmph…fine. But you have to tell Eddie that I actually helped your love life and maybe he won't leave me behind next time.

[msookyspooky]

Love your work, could you write something about Severen where (and this might be a little dark and I completely understand if you're not comfortable writing it) him and his S/0 purposely lure in guys who are predatory to his gf and then slaughter them? (Kind of like when Jesse murders the two car jackers that threaten Diamondback)

This ain't dark to me bc this is exactly what I would do as a vampire. Just drain predatory men looking to take advantage of a girl walking alone at night. Hell, modern vampire me; I would go after pedos online too to meet up with and be guilt free...I like junk food I guess.

Hope you don't mind me twisting this a bit and adding some spice bc we know Severen. 😏

Severen with a S/O that lures victim's

It was easy food. A young, innocent looking, pretty thing like you wandering down dark alley ways and down old back roads at night. Severen never had an issue with getting victims but you made it so easy; you both were fed early every night. What used to be him waiting a few hours for blood by hitchhiking or causing trouble in a shithole bar turned into only an hour or two after dark to feed and the rest of the night to yourselves. However...The victims always made his blood boil unlike anything he experienced in his 150+ years of life.

You always attracted pieces of shit that had one thing in mind. Always trying to grab you, grope you, kiss you, shove you against a wall and take what they wanted. Human you would be terrified... But now? You could easily snap any mans neck that went too far. It didn't faze you. If anything, it made the transition from human to vampire so much easier. Getting blood from draining the life of horrible people that arguably won't be missed.

You both usually tag teamed. He'd wait in an alleyway you had to lead the guy to. Or you'd hitchike, drag on the conversation and have Sev slip into the back of the truck or shoot the driver while he was distracted. It was bonding as you both laughed and got a kick out of initiating fear into people that who knows how many victims they had done the same to. Those nights of tag teaming were the most common and fun.

But sometimes you had to do most of the work to get them alone. Sometimes the chase and lure game dragged on too long for your boyfriend/mates liking. Severen would watch from the shadows as you danced with the victim in the bar, held their hand and flirted with them, whispered sweet nothings before leading them to a secluded area to feed.

Severen was a confident man that trusted you completely. He wouldn't be with anyone if that wasn't the case. However, your senses could still feel Severen nearby seething if the man got too disrespectful with you. You were his and how dare anyone put their hands on you. You shivered at the rage you would feel radiating from him whenever a guy grabbed your ass and you had to go along with it. The glare he'd have on his face as he finally revealed himself to make the kill was intense.

He'd take out his anger on the poor piece of shit that tried to touch you. "You think you can touch whatever ya want? Huh buddy?" He'd have on a smirk and that crazy look in his eyes as he gave them a painful death. Slow, torturous and showing just what he can do if he's enraged enough.

Most of the time it was just pure rage if they tried taking advantage of you but whenever you had to flirt to lure them; it always made him just a little territorial.

He wouldn't hesitate to grab you by the back of your head and lean into you. Pressing his bloody mouth to yours with a growl in the back of his throat. Eyes hooded and almost glaring at you even if his body was pressing into you.

"...Ya sure did take your good ol sweet time getting this sack of monkey shit out here. Did you have to let him grab your ass?" He'd grumble, hands pressing you as close as possible into him. Purposely putting his hand over what that man did. You couldn't help the coy smile as you breathlessly asked, "Jealous Sev?" It always earned him shoving you a against the nearest wall or picking you up while gazing into your eyes hungrily. "Maybe I am... I just ain't too eager on anyone touching you but me. You're mine, darlin'."

Making him a bit jealous with a victim was foreplay for the night to come if nothing else. Even if he knew you would never get with such lowdown scumbags...It still made him bristle the longer it drew out. You may or may not do it on purpose once in a while.

Sometimes if a man was too aggressive it pissed YOU off enough to make the kill yourself without his help. He'd always smirk and watch with satisfaction at the terror you inflicted. Those kisses were different. Attentive, running his thumb along your cheeks as he cupped your face, gazing down at you and softly asking "You alright, honey?" Physically he knew you were. It was mental and emotional damage he was concerned with. He'd sweetly kiss your forehead and ease his way down to your lips if you nodded. If you shook your head and it was more traumatic than you intended, he'd wrap you in his arms and promise to make the next few kills till you felt better.