#but you could tell most of what would happen

[sinner-as-saint]

this vertigo of bliss

Dark!New Avenger!Bucky x Scientist!Reader

Summary: You were hired by Val to work alongside the New Avengers in the watch tower. Of course, you weren’t superhuman beings like them, but you were a brilliant scientist. And while the team went off on missions in their loud jets with their guns and grenades to fight battles, you stayed and took care of your lab and carried on with your research projects. Always looking for ways that might help your superheroes friends. Be it finding ways to heal their injuries faster, or how to keep them healthier, or understand their modified DNA better so that in the future as they age – albeit slower than most humans – they’ll suffer less. Plus, your research would be useful in case new superhumans popped up out of nowhere, like Bob did. And you were proud of your work, as was the team, but then one day you go down an ambitious rabbit hole and make a mistake. Luckily Bucky is there to save the day. Or is he? 

Themes: sex pollen trope, mentions of drugs, smut, mild degrading kink, mild breeding kink, dom!bucky, explicit language, c*m play, aftercare

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You could hear your own heartbeat, your heart going insane inside your rib cage – a warning sign. This was bad. Very, very bad. 

You couldn’t do anything but stand back and watch the pale smoke fill your lab, reaching every crevice, filling your lungs, coating your skin and leaving it feeling oily and dirty. You gasped for air, the mask over your face completely useless. 

Shit, what had you done? What the hell had you done? 

You were well aware it was hubris to even get into those secret HYDRA files on your computer. You knew it was selfish to try and recreate the drugs they used all those decades ago. You knew it. You knew it. It was wrong on so many levels. There’s a reason these files are so well hidden. 

And you told yourself you’d never follow through. That you’d stop right before you created this damned thing. But you couldn’t stop. It was so tempting to do what is most forbidden and here you were now, breathing in your mistake. 

You took the useless mask off, along with your lab coat. Your body was heating up. And you felt feverish. Like in a haze. And you knew what was happening. You’d read it all this morning. And you knew it would be hours before you felt normal again. Before this itch went away. This animal inside you, suddenly awake and hungry for… everything. 

No, no, no. 

You could barely stand up. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this potent. You knew nothing would leak outside the lab, it was designed that way for safety, but you still locked the entrance just in case. 

You blinked a couple of times, trying to reorient yourself as best you could, despite the smoke filling your nose and throat. Nobody was in the tower except you today. The team had left on some mission this morning. 

Or so you thought. 

Because as you were holding onto the wall, trying to make sense of what was happening to you, you heard someone knocking on the door. 

“Hey, Doc. You in there?” A deep voice. Bucky. “The system notified me that something was wrong up here. Are you okay?” 

Ah shit. Just his voice was making things worse. Your legs trembled, you were gasping for air. Your body throbbing at the mere thought of him, his hands, his mouth, his touch, his– 

“Bucky.” You managed to respond to him. “Please,” You were getting breathless, almost fucking moaning, mouth watering just at the thought of him standing right there… no, no, no. “Please, don’t come in.” You managed to tell him, every fiber of your being wanting nothing more than to just let him use you, let him rut into you, let him– 

“Uh, you don’t sound okay, Doc. Are you hurt?” He asked, the panic and concern very evident in his voice. 

Fuck. No, he had to leave. Now. He had to leave now. 

You managed to lean against the cool wall, trying to see past the pure lust coursing through your veins. You breathed slowly. “Bucky, you have to leave. Okay? I’m not hurt. I’ll be fine, you just have to leave. Now. Please.” 

“No,” He argued, sounding worried. “You don’t sound alright. I’m coming in.” He said. And there was usually no arguing with that tone. 

“No,” You whispered weakly. He had access to everything in this tower. Of course he could unlock the door with no problem. And before you could tell him not to, Bucky was in your lab. “Bucky, no.” You whispered, unable to speak properly. 

You felt warm. Hot. Burning. And you could see Bucky’s large frame moving around in the smoke. 

“Doc, what the–,” He stopped speaking abruptly. You felt the realisation sinking in, even in him. 

You felt tears falling down your face. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, watching him get closer to where you stood, “I’m so sorry. Look, just walk away. We’ll wait it out.” It pained you just to say it. “Go away, Bucky.” 

“Doc,” His voice was strained as he spoke, “What have you done?” His face so somber and blank. He was losing it too… 

“I’m sorry.” You apologized again. “I didn’t know it would– I thought I could stop. I didn’t think…” You whimpered as he got closer, your brain – whatever part of it remained coherent and not lust drunk – knew he was feeling it too. 

That pull. That damned itch. That need to feel, or grab, or bite, or fuck another warm body… 

Bucky stood right in front of you. In full tactical gear. His guns were still strapped to his body. His glorious body… strong and muscular. 

“You…” You spoke, despite the burning desire of wanting to just throw yourself at him and let him use you however he wanted. “You have to leave, Buck.” You whimpered, gasping for air, feeling your skin all warm and damp with sweat. 

He was burning too. His fists clenched. His skin shiny with sweat, his body heat almost radiating off him. He was silent, then he reached for you with his metal hand. Tracing his cold metal fingers down your neck, feeling your quick pulse. 

“You know I can’t do that.” His fingers carefully wrapped around your throat. He was losing control. “You know I can’t walk away from this. And neither can you.” 

Something was different about his voice. Something was darker. 

“I’ve been through this before, Doc.” He leaned in and held your stare. “Believe me when I say, it gets worse if you don’t fuck it out of your system. The first hour is fine. Tolerable. But by the third, the fourth hour… you feel like you’re losing your mind. Like you’re not even human anymore. Like you were made just to breed. Like an animal.” 

“Please,” You felt fresh tears fall down your face. The guilt was still there under all the lust and filthy desires.  “I didn’t mean for this to–,” 

“Shh, it doesn’t matter. We’ve got each other. We can get out of this.” He leaned in and nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent which to him felt like the most ambrosial scent ever. “I can make it better.” He promised, pressing his body into yours. “I’ll make it feel good.” 

You whined, tilting your head back and exposing more of your neck and throat. Surrendering. “But, Bucky…” You tried, weakly. 

“Don’t fight it.” He said, pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes. “It gets worse when you fight it, Doc. You know that, don’t you?” 

That darkness in his eyes was new. You didn’t recognise it. 

“I didn’t know it would–,” 

He cut you off. “It would what?” He barked. His icy stare had you frozen in place. “You didn’t know what you were creating?” He taunted, and you noted – even in your own hazy state – that the smoke, the drug, whatever it was, was affecting him way more than it was affecting you. Because judging by his face, his voice, his stare, his movements… Bucky was almost completely gone. “Huh? You didn’t know what this drug was? You didn’t know what it could do? You’re a smart woman, Doc. Surely you knew what you were making…” 

While you were clawing, trying to hold on to your sanity, Bucky’s words were luring over to the other side. “No…” 

“Yes you did.” He accused. “You knew all along. And you still made it.” 

“Please, Bucky.” You begged. You begged for… you didn’t even know what for. All you felt was desire, and pain. A hot pain. Like something inside you contorting, wanting to explode. 

Bucky smirked, both his hands grabbing you this time. “It’s starting to hurt, isn’t it?” 

You blinked away the tears and nodded, pleading with him with your eyes. Then you caught yourself, heavy-eyed, mumbling, “Make it better… please.” 

That did it. That got rid of whatever was making both of you hold back. 

Bucky picked you up and slammed your back against the wall – all while kissing you hungrily, like his life depended on it. You couldn’t even form a proper thought as his tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss. 

Your hands slid into his ridiculously soft hair and he held you tightly against him. Your core pressed against his firm body as his mouth moved perfectly against yours, driving you crazy. Well, crazier. 

You didn’t care that you were dry humping him, all riled up just from his kiss. 

“That feels good, huh? Rubbing yourself on me like that?” He moaned quietly into the kiss as your hand gently tugged on his hair. He smirked and spread your legs apart just a little so he could be closer to you. 

His hands held you up, securely against him, he had a very firm grip on your thigh, his other hand placed right under your ass – holding you up while he kissed you like there was no tomorrow. 

“I’m gonna make it better, okay? You hear me, Doc? I’ll make it feel so good.” His lips left yours momentarily to kiss along your jaw, and down your neck, nibbling on your skin and making you moan out loud. 

He pulled away from you for a moment, and stared into your eyes again. Almost like he was looking for any warning signs which told him to stop, “Tell me I can.” He demanded, “Tell me I can fuck you however I want. Tell me I can use your body and make us both feel better.” The pleading tone in his voice was hard to ignore. 

You could tell he was fighting it too. The animalistic, primal urge to fuck. To breed. 

“You can.” You told him, wanting. Just wanting. “Please, I’ll… I'll let you do anything. Just make it feel better.” 

“You’re safe with me, okay? I won’t hurt you. I need you to remember that, okay?” His voice sent chills down your back and you didn’t want to be all slow and gentle anymore, you simply couldn’t wait any longer, so you reached out and started unbuckling his pants, and he helped you by tearing your clothes off, and slipped his hand in between your legs. Your naked, squirming body pressing against his tactical gear felt immoral in a way you couldn’t explain. 

You were wet, embarrassingly so. And even you could tell just by how easily Bucky ran his knuckles along your wet folds, smearing your arousal around in the process. He chuckled right in your ear as you pulled his cock out and stroked it with vigour. 

“Can’t wait, huh?” He slipped his forefinger and his middle finger through your entrance with ease and grunted in your ear as he felt your walls instantly welcoming him in. You could feel your wetness dripping down your inner thighs. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the spots you wanted him too. “Just wanna be fucked badly, don’t you?” 

“Bucky…” you whimpered and closed your eyes when he leaned down and nibbled on your skin around your collar bones. Something about how desperately, and sinfully his name escaped your lips drove him wild. You bucked your hips against his hand and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he held you up easily with just his metal hand. The rough material of his gear chafing your skin but you did not care. “Bucky,” You whined when you felt his cock briefly brush against your wet folds. “More, please. Please.” You cried out. 

“I know, I know. I feel it too.” He kissed down your neck, smirking against your skin and peppering it with kisses as he aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance. “I know, baby. I know it hurts. I’ll make it better, okay? Just let me in…” 

He pushed himself into you, stretching you out as he went. His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours clawing at his neck, and shoulders as he filled you up nicely. You were both panting by the time he filled you up entirely. 

He barely gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size before he started rocking in and out of you. You felt all of him, each vein, each stroke brought you to tears with how good he felt. 

“So fucking tight…” he whispered against your cheek, more so to himself. “You’re gonna let me have this tight pussy, huh? Just like that. Hmm? You’re that much of a little slut you’re not even gonna put up a fight, huh?” He stroked your walls with his pulsating cock and you were moaning against his cheek in no time. He enjoyed every second of it. 

Both his hands supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass, holding you against him, as he sped up into you. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and said, “I bet you did it on purpose too, huh? You dirty fucking whore.” He hissed in your ear, cock sliding in and out of you as he fucked you like an animal. His brain running on nothing but pure animalistic instincts. “I see the way you look at me, like a bitch in heat. You’ve probably been plotting this for weeks now. Months even.” Bucky accused. “You knew everyone else left for that mission this morning and I stayed back. Maybe you knew it was going to be just you and me in the tower, and it all worked in your favour, huh?” His grip was punishing. “You had me all to yourself. And you knew I’d come to help you. You knew locking the door from inside wasn’t gonna stop me.” 

“No…” You tried to protest, tried to tell him his accusations were wrong. But you could barely talk. “Bucky…” 

He didn’t give you the chance to form coherent sentences. He kept taunting you. “And here we are now, Doc. Here I am, at your fucking service. Your good little soldier doing his job. Fucking you like you wanted it.” He let out a cocky chuckle. “Am I doing a good job, Doc? Am I being a good little soldier, fucking you how you want me to? Hmm? Is this good enough for you? Is this what you always dreamt of?” 

“Buck…” You gasped. “You know that’s not true.” You whined. “I would never… never do this on purpose…,” You gasped, “To you.” 

“No?” He taunted. “But look how well you’re taking it. Look at you. Look at your body swallowing that cock each time like you’d been practising.” He whispered into your ear, his tone filled with lust and filth, “Did you practise, Doc? Did you fuck your biggest toy each night leading up to this in preparation, huh?” 

You moaned out loud again, reciting his name religiously as he slammed into you relentlessly.

He was taking over all your senses and you were more than happy to surrender to him.

You felt the pressure forming, fiery and pressing inside you. While it eased the pain, it also wanted out. It wanted to explode. You needed a release. “Please, Bucky. Please make me come…” 

Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you closer and closer…. 

“So fucking good…” he mumbled softly against your skin while he fucked you like an animal; occasionally growling at how good you felt around him. “Better than I ever thought.” 

Your throbbing clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace – earning more moans from you.

“Look at what you did,” He growled in your ear as he pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the large wooden front door with each thrust. “Turned me into a fucking animal. All I can think about is making it good for you. All I want is to fill you up, and fucking breed you. Is that what you want? Want my babies inside you?” He rambled, also getting closer. “I’ll give it all to you, you know that? Not even worried about it, you’ll be a great mommy, won’t you? Won’t you, baby?” 

Your body moved along with his, his cock sliding in and out of you like you were just a toy. And you never complained once. You barely listened to what he was saying, all you did was nod and agree with his ramblings. Thinking he didn’t mean them. It was the drugs talking, you reminded yourself with whatever sanity you had left. 

You could hear the wet sounds caused each time he pushed himself into you and the sounds of your skin slapping against each other. It was downright sinful. 

He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. “Perfect fucking pussy, fuck, you feel like heaven,” He gasped, “Could fuck you all day and do nothing else. Right here in between your legs, huh? Is this where you want me all the time, Doc?” He hissed in pleasure, “Yeah? Does that feel good? Do I feel good inside you?” 

“Yes,” Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly. “Fuck… yes, you feel so good.” 

You felt like you were losing your mind. The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock, screaming his name out loud in the empty lab. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching down his neck. 

“That’s it, baby. There we go, that feels good, huh?” His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls as he emptied inside you. 

“Oh fuck….” You could feel his warmth filling you up. “That feels…” 

“Come here.” He pulled out of you and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you towards your nearby desk, and pushed you on it, making you sit on the edge, legs dangling for a moment as he grabbed your face and gave you a punishing kiss. “Need more from you, you hear me? Be good and give it to me, okay?” 

You were too far gone to even care what position he had you in, all you wanted was him. Inside you. All you cared about was how he’d make the pain go away. So when Bucky grabbed your legs and placed them on the edge of the desk, opening you up to him completely, you let him. 

He placed his hands on your thighs and spread them further apart and took his time inspecting your wet folds. He mindlessly dragged a finger up and down your slit, making you shiver and moan as he touched you, occasionally fingering his cum back into you. 

“I wanna see what we taste like together.” He whispered, kneeling down. 

His eyes trailed up to your tits, and his other hand reached up to pinch a nipple, making you yelp. He chuckled, “So pretty, and all mine to play with, yeah?” He whispered, getting down on his knees so his mouth was mere inches away from your clit. “Now, keep your legs spread for me. Just like this. Okay?” 

You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his ravenous mouth shamelessly to your wetness. 

His tongue, his lips, the gentle suction of his warm mouth – it was all too much. He moved his head side to side, his coarse stubble brushing against your soft inner thighs. You whined and trembled, trying to keep your voice down as he made you lose your mind by eating you out like a starved man. 

Then he looked up, meeting your eyes as the lower half of his face was completely submerged into your wet cunt. And that did it. You came with a yelp and a moan, riding his face and tugging on his hair. 

He got up quickly and grabbed your face, breathing heavily with wetness all over his lips, “You wanna taste us together? Yeah? Wanna see how good we are?” 

You nodded, delirious. And he leaned in to kiss you again. A messy, warm, filthy kiss. Bucky only pulled away when you were breathless and begging him to stop. He was panting by the time he was done abusing your mouth. 

Then he looked down at your cunt, seeing the way wetness kept oozing out your hole. 

“Look at that,” He looked down in between your spread, trembling legs and pointed at the little puddle of wetness you’d left there on top of the desk. “You made a mess, baby. Better clean it up.” 

He pulled you off the desk and bent you over, pushing your face down, right into the little puddle you’d created there when you came for him. 

“I said clean it!” He hissed, sliding his cock back inside you from behind. “Let me see that tongue licking all that up.” He growled, “Yes, that’s it. Lick it clean, baby, come on.” He pressed down on the back of your neck, refusing to let go. “Did you get it all cleaned up? Huh? Give me a taste of that then, come here,” He pulled you up, manhandling you however he wanted. He grabbed your face and turned it to the side to kiss your open, wet, and warm mouth. You were panting by now. He didn’t care, he took whatever he wanted. Shoving his tongue into your mouth and sucking your taste, stealing it. 

He pulled away and that wild look in his eyes made you throb. “So fucking good…” Then he spat in your mouth and pushed you back down, bending you over your desk again and went back to fucking you from behind, keeping a tight grip on the back of your neck. 

You whimpered as his pelvic bone smacked against your ass each time he thrust into you. 

“Look at that body,” He mumbled. “Look at how perfect you are.” He teased, “Who knew our resident, nerdy little scientist would be such a filthy little slut for me, huh?” He slowed down, grabbing your neck and pulling you back into his chest, getting closer to your ear as he said, “Is that what you are now, Doc? Are you my little slut? Tell me. Tell me you’re my little slut and I can breed you whenever I want to. Tell me I get to use you whenever I feel like it.” He hissed, “Fucking tell me.” 

You whimpered, “Yes I am. I am your little slut, please just… you can do whatever you want, Bucky, just please make me come.” 

Bucky chuckled, cocky now that he’d heard all that he wanted to hear. “Yes you are, baby. A perfect little slut for me. Just for me.” 

Then he resumed fucking you like an animal. His moans and groans loud in your ear. 

“You better come for me, slut.” He growled into your ear. “You hear me? Come on this cock, come on. I want it wet with your cum.” 

His words made you delirious. Lust drunk even more than ever before. You moaned as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in between your hips. 

“Oh…” You whined, “Bucky, I’m gonna come.” You cried, and you were pretty sure you had warm tears streaming down your face. 

“Come on, baby. Come on. Let me fill you up again, huh? You’re gonna just be a good girl and take it, huh? You’ll just be nothing but a cum dump for me, that’s it, angel. Milk that fucking cock, it’s all yours baby… all yours.” 

You couldn’t hold it any longer. And you came all over his cock, crying with hot tears down your face. 

“Yes… look at you.” He cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire. “You come so good for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered even more. He felt agonisingly good, even though you were so sensitive that each stroke had you whimpering and trembling. 

Bucky came right after you, grunting and sighing in pleasure. His warm load shooting inside you as your body shook against the desk. 

“Fuck, angel, you’re so full of my cum.” He pulled out and pushed back into you, a shallow thrust, as if to test something out. “There, I can feel it all inside you.” 

Your mind was a foggy mess. The lab was clearer now though, no more smoke poisoning your brains. But there was enough in both your systems that Bucky only had to wait another minute, before he was ready to go again. 

Turning you around and stepping in between your legs and slid back into you again. “It’s getting better, huh? The pain? Are you okay, baby?” 

You just nodded and let him take over. 

A few slow strokes, then the animal in him took the reins again. Bucky fucked hard and fast into you, his teeth bruising your lips. His mouth swallowing your moans, as he whispered against your open mouth, “It’s all yours, all fucking yours. This is what you wanted, huh? This cock is all you wanted? Should’ve just asked, baby. You didn’t have to do all this. Should’ve just looked up at me with those pretty eyes, gave me one of those please fuck me looks and i would’ve done it.” He chuckled, ending with a loud moan. “Fuck, I would’ve done it. I would’ve taken care of you so fucking good…” 

“Please,” You begged, “Please, Bucky, can you–,” A loud moan escaping your mouth cut you off. 

“What?” He hissed. 

“I want to taste you, please come in my mouth.” You asked, your brain barely registering what you were asking for. 

He chuckled, “No, no, no. I can't waste all this.” He reasoned. “This goes in you, right? That’s why you did all of this? To be pumped full of my cum, right? So no, baby. Can’t waste it all by shoving all this down your throat instead of in your womb.” He teased, “Sorry, but not this time.” 

Moments later, you were coming undone loudly while Bucky was spilling inside you, some of it oozing out all around his cock, which was still snug inside you. “There,” He gathered some on his finger tips, chuckling, “I guess you can have some of it.” He shoved his fingers into your mouth, which you greedily sucked on like it was fucking ambrosia. Bucky hissed, “Yeah, you like that? The taste of me?” 

You nodded, his fingers still deep into your mouth. 

“You want more?” He asked.  

You nodded again. 

“Let’s go then. I need a bed to properly break you in.” 

—

Hours later, finally satiated, Bucky decided you two could stop now. That agonising hunger subsided. 

He was spent. As were you. And he had barely any energy left. But he made an effort, hissing as he got up and out of bed, feeling all his muscles screaming after hours of non-stop fucking. He stood there, stretching his limbs a little as he looked over at you. 

You were buried under his blankets and pillows, only your pretty face was visible. And your eyes were shutting more and more. Bucky leaned over and caressed your face, waking you up gently. “Hey, baby. Wake up.” He whispered gently. “I need you to drink something, okay? Don’t fall asleep just yet.” 

You whined, “Just wanna sleep.” You mumbled. 

“I know, I know.” Bucky walked over to his mini fridge and got some sugary drinks out. “But you need to drink this, okay.” He walked back to bed and forced you up, pulling you onto his lap so he could better observe whether you were drinking all of it or not. “Come on, have some more. You need it, angel, please.” He reasoned, kissing your shoulder, and rubbing your thighs. 

You finished your drink, and leaned back against Bucky, thankful for his warm chest and his strong arms holding you up. 

“I got you, angel, I got you,” He murmured, his hands rubbing all over you. He didn’t care that he was smearing his own cum all over your thighs and abdomen, it felt weirdly good. Like he was marking you. “I’m sorry I got so rough earlier,” He apologised, kissing your shoulder. “You just felt so good, I wanted your body to bend and break for me.” He kissed your tired body wherever he could, “Am I forgiven?” He kissed your neck until it tickled, “Hmm? Do you forgive me for being rough earlier?” 

He earned a sleepy drowsy giggle. “Yes, Buck.” You answered, letting him tuck you back in bed. “Need to shower,” You mumbled. 

Bucky answered, saying, “Later, baby.” And he kept kissing you, murmuring praises and post-sex rambles into your ear. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He spooned you from behind, not minding the sticky, sweaty mess you both were. “My perfect girl…” 

You were too close to falling asleep to note the change in his tone. The slight darkness lacing his words. Still. 

Bucky pressed his body to yours, caging you in his arms. Then noticed the way you backed up into him, purposely because you did it twice. 

“Again?” He asked you, chuckling when you nodded at his question, your butt pressing into his crotch as you drifted off… barely conscious and letting out the tiniest, softest moans as he slid his cock back inside you. Hard already. With ease. Fucking you slowly and enjoying the feeling of your wet warmth wrapped around him. 

He knew your body by heart now, so even in the dark he let his hands roam all over you. Touching you exactly where you needed to be touched. 

You let out a sleepy whimper, “Mhmm,” And mumbled some nonsense, “...feels so good.” You let out a sigh. “Gonna need you all the time now.” 

“I know, baby.” Bucky murmured, already spilling inside you. Filling you up with his cum again. “I know it feels good.” He tightened his arms around you, left his cock snug inside you and pulled you closer to him, whispering against the back of your neck, “And we would’ve never known how good it can be if I hadn’t intervened to speed things up, now would we?” 

How long had he yearned for this? For you? Months maybe. But you were always so cautious, always so proper. Always so distant and with frozen, icy walls around your heart. Bucky could never get in. But he wanted you. Oh, how he wanted you since the day he first saw you. 

Gods… it was so easy to sneak those files into your computer. And he knew you were so curious by nature that you wouldn’t have been able to resist looking into them. And once you looked, you wouldn’t be able to resist trying to recreate something so forbidden. 

All he had to do was let you believe that he’d left that morning with the team as well. But he never did. He planned things too well. Stalled just enough so that right as they were about to take off, Bucky was able to pull back. Showing everyone that the system had alerted him that there was something going on in the lab. The team agreed that Bucky would stay behind and deal with that while they went away and carried on with the mission. 

So then, just as he had planned, you two were all alone in the tower and he was at the lab at the right time. Barging in to get you out, like a hero. And accidentally inhaled all that vapour that drove him wild… 

And here he was now. His plan was well executed. 

Bucky playfully bit your skin, tasting you like you were there just for that. “You played your part well, baby. Thank you for that.” He smiled upon hearing another one of those sleepy moans escaping your mouth. “And now you’re all mine.” He whispered into your ear. 

—

a/n: what? I was horny okay…

[imatter2iexist]

@oripoke @bo-beanies I have so many photos and documents.. Ive been telling the truth. But instead of being supportive, you subjected me to neglect, abuse, and torment. The TLDR is that you knowingly, and willingly, abused and controlled a mentally ill person; a close friend of years you *knew* was autistic and wouldnt understand; you stole my assets and safety, traumatized me, then threw me on the streets to die, alone. I was i just this object for you to use, abuse, and then leave for dead on the streets when you were done using me? Like i was garbage? In the beginning, there were days I literally could never put my phone down because I was 24.7 comforting bean. Id have to hide and be quiet in the bottom room, just to talk to Rory on the phone for a few minutes, or bean would get would get wildly upset if they saw. I knew what would happen if I disobeyed, and i was terrified. Id do everything you asked even when you hurt me for it. And yet, when i freak about the extreme trauma you cause me, doubled with my brothers abuse- when i had panic attacks from your abuse, you stole everything and left me for dead. Id have stayed by your side for months until you felt better, and you knew that, but either of you talking to me for 2 minutes was too much effort, no matter how badly i needed it... as much as i communicated this, you just ignored it

I was always there for both of you, even when it radically hurt me. I tried so hard to keep bean happy, for MONTHS, but when it was my turn to need help i was abandoned, hated, tossed away like I was nothing, and mocked for the illness i cant control. "Its your fault for being poor, its your fault for being sick" is what you said to me. Of course i snapped. You have no idea how much pain you put me in, to be starving, to be on the street with an infection, to lose my cat. Everything just got worse. My disorder is not something i can control. After 7 months of hell i was still not a person to you i was just an object or a toy for you to use. Why talk to this thing now, why bother? I was just a pet for you two to keep and torment until you were bored of my messages

The pain was too immense for me to handle, each month it just got worse. It hurt so badly. I cant describe it and i wouldnt wish it on even the most evil soul. It's agony. No human deserves what i had to go through- nobody.  Hard drugs couldnt even make it better. It was both mental and physical hell. Do you know how painful my med increases were, too, but i still did them because thats what you told me to do? I STILL listened and trusted you because i cared. I got therapy, too. And you still treated me like dirt, and im the one that has to pay for it in the hospital, in debt, in isolation and immense pain. Im the one that has to pay for all the suffering that you caused. Then you parade my dead name around, and accuse me of things I did not do. I did horrible things, im not saying i didnt. But you cant admit what you've done at *all*

I did everything you both asked of me even when it was hard, contradicting and confusing. Id never asked either of you for ANYTHING. Not ever. All I asked for was to talk, to help me with this stupid fucking disorder, but after everything I went through and how hard I tried and everything i suffered. Instead of being there, instead of responding to the only thing ive *ever* needed from either of you, you radically hurt me, then left me to die. TWICE

You may not believe this, but i don't. Want. To. Be. Like. This. I didnt choose to have this disorder, i dont choose the attacks that happen, and when i attempt suicide its *NOT* for attention like you scream. You put intentions in my mouth so often; it has nothing to do with your stupid blogs. Its to make. The pain. Stop. Its so immense, the only thing that goes in my head is "stop, make it stop, please make it stop" and i try and escape from my body to make the suffering end. There's no other way to escape your own mind but to die. And drugs, which I've gotten even further sick for abusing, but nothing else fucking helps

You all act like its a choice i made, and that's what you abandoned me for. I cant control my panic attacks. I dont control the disorder i got from my brothers abuse. i dont *WANT* to talk to any of you ever again or even think about you ever again. But that's the thing about mental illness, its crazy because it is, and when I said it wont fucking let me.... i mean IT WONT FUCKING LET ME. Could you ask a schizophrenic person to stop seeing demons?? "Like hey dude,  just stop seeing them. Have you tried just stopping?" I know pea had fun mocking me, and you all had a good laugh, "lmaooo you couldn't even not do it for a single day"- i didnt choose to be like this. I have the meds and I have the therapy. I did what you wanted but you just hurt me again. And again. How cruel is it that bean has panic attacks on the daily and gets comforted for it, and you all did this to me for my very first one. Rory told me he loved me more than hes ever loved anyone, he told me i could always talk to him if i was hurting, he told me it was okay, he reassured me he was there for me and that it was completely okay.Rory, you told me it was okay. You did. Then you disappeared without even saying goodbye. After 7 months of confusion, not understanding whats going on or whats even happening to me, or where ill sleep the next day. Constantly hurt and abused and hungry and infected, mourning everything i lost. You can never give me back my cat, or the opportunities i lost, my trans health care, my savings. You cant undo the immense pain I've felt and you cant reverse the trauma you've caused

Yes, I hurt you too. I did fucked up things, too. But not. And I repeat. Not until after 7 months of this mental and physical torture. I couldnt take it anymore

And I *still* kept trying. I *still* am. BECAUSE THATS WHAT YOU TOLD ME TO DO. My meds are at 220mg and excruciating, therapy is so incredibly confusing, but im still doing it even if i desperately dont want to. But you two can torture me, because you didnt want to talk to me for a few minutes, and explain what I didnt understand. Instead you left me in the dark. While you were both going to *another* con just moments later, and sleeping comfortably, and going to parties and weddings; i was still in the hospital, in incredible pain, for an incredibly long time, from events you directly caused. Do you understand the mental toll that does to a person? I went to hospital to hospital, reaching out, just more and more confused, just more and more hurt.

While im going through all this, as if im not a real human being behind your computer; besides peas ranting the only things i recieved are "man my notifications" "man this sucks" "Yeah I hate it" like im an "it" a toy or a thing. Parading my dead name is a close contender, but its the amount of lies that hurt me the most. I did not ever have any kind of conversation with Rory OR Bean, I did not fake being in a coma for 2 weeks, I was very much fucking out. I've been telling the truth, even when its hard. Why cant you? Im not afraid to tell the truth.Communication and honesty are human things. My attempts have been very real and very painful, I made myself take pictures and I have the fucking discharge papers from every single one, because I've been telling the truth and can PROVE IT. I did so much I didnt want to do. I went through so much I didnt want to. You broke my boundaries and abused me, i gave up so much of myself and my safety and my life for you, and it was okay. But im now the criminal, your boundaries > my life. Your notifications>my human life.

Nobody's reading this, nobody gives a fuck, im never going to hear anything other then "maaaan this is so shitty, we destroyed his life and his mental and his job and his healthcare and we almost killed him with our neglect....but maaan hes really clogging up my notifications and that makes him the most evil, horrible, awful and disgusting person in the world. Let him die so I can get some quiet." And "Urgh omg I cant believe i have to post this". That's all it ever is. That's all its ever going to be. You hide behind an interent wall, pretending not to see the abuse you did to my body, my person, and my life

[keferon]

Hello, tag reader here, I would like to hear the Terran rant and also maybe a bit more about this brainwashing idea?

I already wrote the Terran rant HOWEVER

LET ME YAP ABOUT EARTHSPARK AND BRAINWASHING SOME MORE

For two seasons all the adult bots we see are already friends with Megatron. We don’t know how they became friends we don’t know if they were hostile towards him at first. We don’t know if he had to go around apologising to everyone or maybe they just accepted him because it was tactically necessary. We have no idea. It was never shown.

All we know is that all Autobots accept Megatron. Pretty much. And all the kids accept him too because they’re in the same position as us - they don’t know anything about the war. They only have their silly comics and the words of adults.

And it’s a bit suspicious but again. The past was never shown. We don’t know what happened.

And then Prowl shows up. And it’s a big thing because Prowl doesn’t know the war is over! He wasn’t there when Megatron switched sides! So I naturally was very excited to see his reaction because. JUST THINK about it. Prowl is a DETECTIVE. There’s no way he would just go “Okay bruh I guess Megatron is with us now” without asking any questions right?? Hahaahaahahahah NO. Prowl immediately goes “Okay bruh” and doesn’t try to get any more important information. He acts bratty towards Megatron yes but he never tries to learn any more.

Which leads me to the thought. Isn’t it suspicious how perfect everything is around Megatron? Isn’t it weird how friendly and accepting everyone are? How they aaaall believe him no questions asked?

Isn’t it interesting how worried Megatron was during the Starscream episode in season 1? Starscream was pretty much the only one willing to share the fact that Megatron was a bad person in the past. Starscream also acts VERY surprised when Hashtag actually BELIEVES him. Which means that he tried more than once to tell people the truth and they dismissed him again and again and again.

Doesn’t it look like some kind of brainwashing to you? Doesn’t it feel like all those characters are being hit by invisible “I trust Megatron” beam? Because for me it does~

And what is even more interesting. Megatron is clearly used to this kind of behaviour. He expects it from everyone.

When during the first meeting Prowl naturally assumes that he is an enemy? Megatron gets OFFENDED. Because how dare you looking at the former leader of the Decepticons who is still wearing Decepticon badge and ASSUME he’s with the Decepticons??? He not only gets offended he also says with completely straight face that Prowl has to earn his forgiveness. And when he doesn’t immediately see Prowl apologising and accepting his authority? He gets violent. INSTANTLY.

Which is. Not the behaviour you might expect from a redeemed villain who admitted the fact of being wrong in the past. He walks around saying to everyone how good he is now but the moment someone makes him look bad? He chooses violence to shut that person up. And makes effort to make them look WORSE than him.

I find it incredibly fascinating. I think there’s no way it was written intentionally and most likely it’s just me losing my mind. But there’s such a unique potential in here. And as I keep saying. I don’t think they will go there. But they could. Easily.

Upd. OH AND THE FACT THAT HASHTAG LEARNED ABOUT MEGATRON’S EVIL PAST AND THEN NEVER EVER MENTIONED IT??? All other kids heard that as well but they didn’t really believe it I think. But Hashtag believed. And then straight up ignored that information and proceeded to move on without any trouble. She SAW WITH HER OWN EYES that Megatron was ready to kill Starscream and then it never made her teust him less in the future? It’s like her mind was reset. Isn’t it fascinating HUH

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

deltarune spoilers I wanna talk about chapter 4 below is a pretty mundane theory about the knight's identity and their role in the narrative

Just writing some unimportant stuff in this line because Tumblr sucks and sometimes doesn't care about the break anyway let's go

I'm pretty sure at this point (and thus am probably wrong) that the Knight is Dess Holiday, but also that Dess was the original girl hero in the trio that's supposed to save the world.

First thing that catches my eye is the difference between what Ralsei tells us the prophecy is like, and actually seeing the prophecy for real in the church.

In Ralsei's version, this is how the monster looks like.

This is important because this is pretty clearly Susie. It's a dinosaur-like monster that wields an axe.

This is a depiction that comes up later; in Chapter 2 we see it in Queen's Castle, as a statue Susie can steal for her bedroom. Consider that Queen does not know about these things and is just adjusting and recreating things that people look up online, and that she knows about the protagonists. By and large she's probably just copying Ralsei's notes.

However, when we go to the Dark Sanctuary, we learn a couple of interesting things--

Ralsei is not telling the whole prophecy, and is in fact paraphrasing it for pacing and length.

Save for Ralsei, those are not the original symbols of the heroes.

This is how the hero looks:

Notice that instead of showing Kris, it's showing the player, the SOUL. It's a very specific difference; Kris is the cage and is included in the text, but the implication of showing the actual SOUL instead of them makes the prophecy ring a lot different.

The second hero, however, looks like this:

It's fun that they don't even call her a monster, just a girl, which could always mean some wild shit we don't know yet, but let's focus on the symbol-- if memory serves, this is the ACT symbol. For example, you can get this symbol on Kris's battle HUD if you call for Genson in the Dark Sanctuary:

It also looks a lot like Susie's Rude Buster, but not like the Rude Buster symbol, which is a magical flame.

Either way, then we go a bit further and get to the main point I'm trying to make:

That's not Susie.

Susie doesn't wield a sword. She has never wielded a sword. She has an axe.

The axe is so Susie's weapon that it materializes no matter what she's holding. It came pre-packed with her Dark World form, it's not something she chose-- she even has dialogue about how she doesn't know why she's carrying an axe, but, hey, axes are cool.

I believe this is supposed to be Dess, Noelle's older sister, for a few reasons

She's obviously a very important character who is absent, missing in such a way that has caused hurt on every character. We're shown that she's the first one to "leave" during Tenna's flashback to how it used to be in the Dreemurr/Holiday get-togethers, and her absence is deeply felt by everyone involved whenever her name comes up.

She's described as strong, incredibly cool, and overall the kind of person who would be a hero.

In conversations, Noelle mentions that Dess would hit Kris with a wiffle bat when they would lie to her until they stopped. Obviously two different weapon types, but a bat and a sword are a lot more like each other than a sword and an axe-- at least in how you hold it!

The rest of the Hero Girl prophecy mentions she would find love-- while Susie is obviously in love with Noelle, Dess is also pretty clearly flirting or secretly dating Asriel.

That's part one of the theory, part two is that instead of becoming one of the heroes, something happened to her (which seems to have involved a sacrifice?) that made it so that instead of becoming one of the three heroes, she became the Roaring Knight instead. Evidence for the Knight being Dess (as opposed to, say, Carol) is:

The Knight has antlers, the most obvious signifier that they're a Holiday. But also, did you notice what the sword looks like when the Knight summons it?

IT LOOKS LIKE A BAT. BAM BIG REVEAL MASSIVE PAYOFF. YOU THOUGHT I WAS STRETCHING BACK THERE. YOU THOUGHT I DIDN'T HAVE A PLAN. YOU'RE ALL STUCK IN HERE WITH ME.

Anyway the Knight also:

Attacks with stars -- like Christmas stars, above Christmas trees.

The Knight is horrifying-- and Dess was really into horror movies. She's in fact the reason why Noelle is into creepy things, even if they do genuinely frighten her.

The Knight is not physical-- it can obviously turn into a ball to fly around, but more important than that, it turns into pure static when you actually attack it. Garbage noise.

It almost looks like the Knight is some kind of distortion, like a hologram.

And then, one final thing related to both of these characters that I think is what's actually missing to understand what's going on between the Dreemurrs and the Holidays:

During Chapter 3, you can play the "real version" of a game Tenna has modified to be easier and more direct. In it, you control Kris, who goes through the game world doing a No Mercy run on enemies, then on their own friends, finally ending with a dungeon run where you slaughter a lot of monsters and flowers. This eventually rewards you with the Shadow Mantle you need to defeat the Knight. (if you're not a god and can perfectly dodge everything, that is)

In one of these, you encounter a different kind of enemy that has no equivalent in any other room. There's this thing that copies your movements, in a dark chamber.

If you go into the game's files, you can actually not only find out what this is, you can also lighten up this room.

It's a black deer.

This is probably the most direct reference to the Knight being a deer in the game (even if it's just in the files), but the final piece, the thing that actually makes me lose my mind, is the fact that there is actually a variable that turns the actual model into the "monster" you fight in this room. This variable is only used here. When you walk into the room, the variable turns to true, and the deer becomes the room's enemy.

The variable's name?

Toriel turns her into a monster.

So, here's my attempt at making sense of it all:

Dess was supposed to be one of the three heroes, wielding her bat as a sword.

Asgore and Toriel have something to do with whatever happened with Dess. Whatever they did tore apart their relationship with the Holidays, and their own marriage.

Whatever happened to Dess has been weaponized and whatever's left of her has become the Roaring Knight.

Susie's reaction to the final bit of prophecy likely has to do with someone dying by the hands of the Hero Girl, which she correctly points out would never happen in their specific group.

And she's right. It wouldn't. Because she's not the hero girl.

This also means Susie's going at this hero thing completely unaided by prophecy, 100% stoked on hopes and dreams, because she's the best. You can check out a video exploring more of the deer situation here.

now i know what you're thinking

if the hero is dess, why doesn't the church mural have antlers?

and the answer

might surprise you

OH SHIT A DOG

anyway that was it go away

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 55: Finding Home

Summary: Moving on to your new lives, you and John hunt for the perfect home.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,282 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, a/b/o, alternate universe, the barest hint of angst, language, the author knows nothing about real estate in the UK

A/N: I'm excited for this one and I'm sure you will be too...

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“You really enjoyed your time on the farm.” John says, his arm wrapped around you as you lounge on the couch in your Airbnb. He’d already gone through and searched for anything suspicious, checking every room for possible cameras or listening devices. You let him do it, staying out of his way as you knew that would make him the most comfortable.

“I did.” You say, your head resting on his chest. It feels good being close to him, even if it was only two weeks you were apart. “It made me feel useful. Gave me something to do.”

“You want to look at places with a lot of land?” He asks.

You nod. “If that’s a possibility. I think it might be good for both of us. Keep us busy. Idle hands and all of that.”

John huffs. “Lily lives by that proverb.”

“You’re telling me. The woman never stops.” You smile. “She was so gracious though.”

“The MacTavishes are wonderful people.” He says, his fingers tracing patters on your arm. “It’s hard not to like all of the in-laws.”

“I’d like to meet all of them someday.” You say wishfully. “You’ve met them all, haven’t you?”

He nods. “I have. The Garrick’s are exactly as you’d imagine. Kyle gets all of his best qualities from them. They live in Birmingham, where Kyle was born. I’ve only met Ashley, though, not the oldest sibling.”

“Sounds about right.” You say. “What about Simon’s family?”

“I’ve met his mother and brother once.” John says, his hand rubbing your arm. “Not long before you joined the pack. I’m honestly surprised he introduced me. He’s very protective of them, but I suppose with everything they’ve been through…”

“I know some of it.” You say. “He told me after I told everyone what happened when I was taken to the institute.”

John hums. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up about meeting them. They’re...a sensitive subject for Simon.”

You fall silent for a moment. You figured that would be the case. You wonder if Kyle or Johnny have even met his family, or if he really does keep them that guarded.

“What about your dad?” You ask. “Could I ever meet him?”

John is silent for a moment. “He’s...complicated. Gruff old geezer now. He still lives in the house I grew up in, in Leominster. About 12 miles from Hereford.”

You frown. “So close but you don’t visit him?”

John sighs. “Only on occasion. We’re happy living our separate lives. I could take you, but I can’t guarantee it would be a good visit. Old man always has something to say.”

You don’t push anymore. He’s told you about his relationship with his father before, and you’re not willing to try and pry anything else out of him. A moment of silence settles over the two of you, a comfortable silence. You press closer to him, trying to get as close as you can. You missed him more than you thought, now that you have him close again.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, leaning his head against yours. You breathe in his scent, the damp woody smell permeating your being. He nuzzles his head against yours, taking a deep breath in. He lets out the breath, a sound almost like a purr rumbling in his chest.

You wrap your arm tighter around him, nearly climbing into his lap. “Missed you.” You whimper.

You’ve been missing him longer than he’s been gone. You had such freedom at the cottage to do what you pleased. The week at the barracks had driven a wedge between you and your pack, your own fear pushing you apart from them. It’s been three weeks now since you’ve been close to him, since you’ve had a chance to really take him in.

A low growl rumbles in his chest, his body pushing against yours. You let him lead, laying back until you’re flat on the couch. He shifts over you, slotting his body between your legs. Warmth starts to pool in your stomach, flowing through your veins as he lowers himself down, nudging your head to the side so he can press his face against your neck. Your arms wrap around his back, one hand trailing through the short strands of his hair. You wonder if he’ll grow it out now that he has that freedom, if he’ll let his beard get wild again like it had at the cottage.

The mental image of him with a beard and long hair has you purring.

An echoing rumble vibrates from John’s chest, his teeth nipping at your scent gland. You whine, trying to pull him closer against you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your skin lightly over the scarred over mark he left just a year ago. You shiver, nearly mewing from the pleasurable sensation.

His arms slip under you, pulling you up as he stands. “Let’s get you to bed so I can make love to you properly.”

You shiver at his words, clinging to him as he makes his way down the hall to the bedroom.

You drop onto the bed with a bounce, the springs squeaking. John wastes no time, ripping his shirt up over his head, exposing his chest to you. He’s still soft from his time at the cabin, three weeks back on base not enough to carve it away. The sight of him as you licking your lips, your thighs rubbing together as wetness starts to pool between them.

John undoes his belt and jeans, pushing them down his legs before stepping out of them. There’s a prominent bulge in his briefs, the musky scent of arousal seeping into the air. You breathe it in, your nipples hardening in arousal. You sit yourself upright, tugging your shirt over your head. John’s hands are on you before you can do much else, sliding to your back to undo your bra before tugging it off. The bed dips as he kneels on it, bending his face down to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

You let out a quiet gasp, your head tilting back as he scrapes his teeth against the sensitive bud. Your hand cups the back of his head, holding him there as he suckles on your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a pop. He moves to the other one, giving it the same attention as his hands slide down your stomach to tease the skin above your waistband.

He undoes the button of your jeans, pulling the zipper down. His hands slip under the fabric, sliding around to your ass, lifting you as he pushes your jeans down. He releases your nipple, sliding down your body as he tugs your jeans down off your feet. He kneels on the floor, tugging you forward until you’re seated right on the edge of the bed. You spread your legs for him, his hands pushing them wide as he stares down at your panty-clad pussy.

“Fuck.” He groans, staring down at the wet spot on the fabric.

His hands slide down your thighs until they reach the waistband of your panties. He slides his fingers under the fabric before tugging, ripping them apart.

“John!” You cry in protest, lifting yourself up onto your elbows to stare down at him.

“I’ll buy you more.” He says, pushing your legs back open before dipping his head down between them. “I’ll buy you as many pairs as you want.”

Any more protests die on your tongue as his mouth closes over your throbbing clit, sucking hard. You fall back onto the bed, letting out a quiet moan. It’s been a long three weeks without him, without any of them. You’ve missed your alpha, you’ve missed your pack. You missed the kind of freedom you had at the cottage to be with them whenever you wanted, however you wanted.

Now you have nothing but time and freedom.

Another moan leaves your lips as John drags his tongue through your folds, gathering some of your slick before he focuses on your clit again, circling it with his tongue. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your thighs, a feeling you’ve come to miss.

You grip the sheets as he eats you out like a man starved. Well, he probably is. It’s been a long three weeks for him too. You wonder if any of them sought comfort in the others, or if they all were too torn up in the emotions of their missing omega and the knowledge their captain was about to leave. You’d almost be mad at them for wasting the opportunity, but at the same time, it’ll make the next meeting all the sweeter.

You wonder if they all slept in the nest even after you were gone, if that will forever be a staple for Johnny and Simon, a memory of what once was as they move on to this new chapter.

You want a nest. A big one. One that can fit all five of you with room for movement. Lots of movement. Five bodies all tangled together...

A harsh suck on your clit brings you out of your thoughts. You yelp, your head jolting up to look at John. He’s staring at you, pulling himself off your clit with a pop.

“Back with me?” He rasps, his beard shiny with your juices.

You nod breathlessly. “Yeah.”

“What were you thinking about?” He asks as he dips his head to your folds again.

“I want a big bed.” You say, your breath hitching as he sucks lazily at your clit. “A really big bed. One that can fit all five of us.”

He hums. “Having thoughts?”

You nod.

“Like what?” He asks, dipping down to prod at your opening with his tongue.

“A-all five of us,” You moan as his tongue pushes into you. “Together.” You channel all those fantasies you’ve been having since that day at the cottage the thought had entered your mind. “Me between Johnny and Kyle, full of them while they kiss over my shoulder.” You swallow thickly, hands curling into the sheets. “You and Simon...Simon on his knees, your cock in his mouth, watching while Johnny and Kyle fuck me-”

Your words cut off as his thumb pushes against your clit, rubbing tight little circles. You’re soaked after replaying those fantasies in your head, toes curling where they rest against John’s back.

“What else?” John’s voice is muffled by your thighs.

“Simon fucking Johnny while you fuck me as we take turns sucking Kyle’s pretty cock.” Your breaths are getting shaky, the words trembling from your lips while you get closer and closer to the edge. “Simon making me squirt in Kyle’s mouth.” Your back arches off the bed, heels digging into John’s shoulders. “You and Simon…both at the same time…sinking your teeth into me again…”

You cum with a cry, slick gushing out against his face as your orgasm rocks through you. It’s been so long, the pleasure coming on quick and hard. John laps at you, licking up every last drop as you twitch and shake.

John finally pulls away as the edge of overstimulation begins to burn between your thighs. His face is shiny with your slick, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. You follow its path, your tongue slipping out to do the same.

“Lovely fantasies.” John says as he crawls over you, shifting you up the bed slightly before settling his weight on you. “Perhaps we can make those come true.”

You shiver in anticipation for him to make good on that. You know he will. No doubt he’s been having his own fantasies. They all likely have. You’ve all been waiting for the moment to arise, for them to get their chance to have you together. You’re surprised it’s taken this long. You would have welcomed them at the cottage, but it hadn’t felt like the right place for it.

Perhaps once you finally find a place to call home, you’ll all get a chance to properly break it in.

You can only imagine what its going to do to your libido.

John’s hand grips your chin, turning your face back to the center so you’re staring up at him. His eyes are lidded as they stare down at you, lips slightly parted. “Back with me again? Still picturing all the depraved things you want us to do to your body?”

You gulp, nodding.

He chuckles, lips turning up in a grin. “File those away for later. We’ll get our chance. For now, I want you to focus on me.”

“Yes, sir.” You say.

A low growl rumbles in his chest, a thrill of danger and excitement pulsing straight between your thighs. You’re still slick, need throbbing between your legs. You need his cock, you need him to ease away the ache steadily building there.

“Need you alpha,” You whine, pushing your hips up to grind against him. He’s hard, cock trapped between your bodies as you press up against his chest.

He grunts, his hips dipping to grind against you, his cock leaking against your stomach. He’s just as needy as you, but he’s always been better at self control.

“Needy little omega.” He says, sitting up on his knees to press your thighs apart, opening you right up to his gaze. You lay there on display, feeling no nerves, no desire to hide yourself from him. You’ve long since passed that insecurity.

His thumb drops to drag through your slick folds, pressing against your clit for a moment before releasing. You practically mewl, thighs pushing against his hands. “You want it?” He all but growls.

“Yes,” You breathe, staring up at him, holding eye contact. “Need your cock alpha.”

He growls, satisfied with your answer. The tip of his cock drags through your folds, gathering slick there before he’s pressing into you, easing his way into your body.

You let out a breath, relaxing for him. It’s been a while, long enough that the stretch burns a bit. He goes slow, feeling the resistance squeezing around him. “Good girl.” he breathes, his hand caressing your cheek. “You can take it.”

You whine, pushing your hips up to draw him deeper into you. He presses his hips forward, your body shuddering from the stretch as he bends down, pushing in until his hips are flush with yours. He presses his chest against yours, dipping his head so his forehead rests against yours. You’re breathing the same air, the scent of your pussy still faint in his breath.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him down as close as you can. His hand snakes beneath your head, closing around the back of your neck. It rests there, not squeezing, not controlling, just resting there against the most sensitive part of your body. Goosebumps form on your skin at his touch, the vulnerability you’re allowing sending shockwaves through your body. How easily he could dig his fingers in, pull you under his control and have his way with you before you wake up and realize what happened.

He doesn’t, though. He just holds his hand there, holds the back of your neck as he starts to move, grinding his hips against you. You tilt your head back into his hand, baring your throat for him in submission. His mouth presses kisses against your skin, tracing your pulse, dropping to your scent gland and your mark before moving to the other side. He skirts around Simon’s mark, not touching the sacred area that Simon has claimed, that marks Simon’s claim to you as well.

John starts to move his hips faster, his cock dragging in and out, in and out. You meet his thrusts, lifting your hips to pull him in deeper, as deep as you can take him. You want to meld together, melt into one being in this moment, be locked together for all eternity. You’d crawl into his skin and settle there for the rest of time if you could.

God how you’ve missed him.

“Fuck, so good for me.” He breathes, face pressed into your neck, his breath tickling your skin. “Taking me so well.”

“Missed you, alpha.” You whine, your nails sinking into the skin on his back as pleasure builds inside of you with every drag of his cock.

“Missed you too, omega.” The sound of your status coming from him has you whining again. “Missed you so much.”

You moan, getting closer and closer to the edge with every drag of his hips. His thrusts have grown harder, sloppier. He’s getting close too, as he growls against your throat. He could sink his teeth in so easily, yet he doesn’t. You have so much trust in him, so much faith that he’ll take care of you, that he’ll be a good alpha.

He is.

“Cum for me.” he groans, snapping his hips against yours. “Be a good girl.”

You whine, your body trembling, legs shaking as he drives you into another orgasm. You come undone under him, squeezing around him like a vice. He growls, snapping his hips into you a few more times before he stills, warmth filling you as he cums inside you.

His weight settles over you, pressing you down into the mattress. You’re still clinging to him, wrapped around him like a snake. His cock throbs inside of you as you milk every last drop of his cum that you can. He’s still hard, and you know this isn’t the last round, but the two of you sit in silence for a moment, just comforted by the weight of each other.

It had been long enough without him.

You never want to go without him again.

The tickle of calloused fingers on your skin pulls you from the sweet arms of sleep.

The fingers draw patterns on your back, tracing shapes and lines into your skin. You let out a quiet groan, pressing your face further into the pillow. You’re on your stomach, the sheet bunched down around your hips. It’s warm, the scent of sex still in the air.

“What time is it?” You groan, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Just past 9.” John says quietly.

You frown, turning slightly so you can see him. “You’re still in bed?”

“Couldn’t bring myself to move yet.” He says. “Not from this beautiful sight.”

Your face warms and you press it back into the pillow bashfully. He chuckles, his hand flattening against your skin. He rubs your back gently as you float in and out of consciousness, the pull of sleep still heavy in your mind. Yet, you can’t quite reach it, the warm hand on your back keeping you grounded in the waking world.

You hum, rolling onto your side so you’re facing John. His gaze is soft as he stares down at you, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek. His thumb strokes your cheek, the moment soft and domestic and intimate. You doubt you’ll ever get him to sleep in, but you like this change, this new side of him willing to lay in bed with you as you sleep. Of course, if you do win him over and get your farm neither of you will be sleeping in, but right now, it’s nice.

“If you’re up for it, by the time we get ready we could go out for brunch.” He says. You can’t stop the laugh that escapes you, his brows pulling in a frown. “What?”

“I just never expected you to be a brunch guy.” You say, shaking your head.

He shrugs. “I’m retired. I can be a lot of things now.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Brunch would be nice. I’m hungry after last night.”

He grins wickedly, leaning in closer. “Give you a workout, did I?”

You hum, closing the distance to kiss him. “Almost as hard as farm work.”

He growls, rolling you over and pinning you under him. “Then I didn’t do enough.”

You squeal as he nips at your neck, laughing as you wrap your arms around him.

“I’ve got a few places lined up to look at.” John says as he drives along the highway.

“So you picked an area?” You ask.

“A couple.” He says. “I can’t promise a view of the ocean if you want land, but we’ll be minutes away from the beach.”

“That’s okay.” You say, sitting back in your seat. “Can’t have everything I guess.”

“The first place we’re looking is just outside Troon. Then there’s a couple more just outside the Three Towns.”

You give him a look. “The what?”

“It’s a conurbation between Ardrossan, Saltcoats, and Stevenson.” He explains. You pretend to know what that means. “I’m liking one of those properties more than the others.” He continues. “I think you’ll see why.”

You hum, staring out the window as green farmland goes by. You can almost smell the sea air as you get closer and closer, excitement bubbling in your stomach. The temptation to give up the desire for a farm in favor of a place closer to the sea is strong, but you know it will be better for both you and John to have land and later a farm. It’ll keep John busy, something you know he’s going to be grateful for. Going from constantly having things to do, to having nothing at all to do is going to be rough for him. He’ll go stir-crazy, like a working dog stuck in an apartment. You know he’d never get violent, but without an outlet...you’re not sure what it’s going to look like.

Maybe you can convince him to go to therapy.

“Here we are.” John says, pulling up a small driveway.

It’s...cute. A bit dated, but your expectations were low to begin with. You get out of the car with John, a real estate agent waiting for you already.

John introduces himself and you to the agent, Angelica. You take John’s arm as she tells you about the house, leading you to the front door.

“Three bedrooms, one bath, 108 square meters. It sits on two acres of land, I know ye said ye were lookin’ for land.” She opens the front door, leading you inside.

It’s...something alright. The entryway is nice, if a bit narrow. One door opens on the left to the living area, small with the worst patterned carpet you’ve ever seen. The staged furniture doesn’t help any either.

“The kitchen and bathroom are newly updated.” Angelica says as she leads you across to the kitchen.

It is nice looking, new and clean and fresh. “Spacious.” You say, looking around. Plenty of room for two or three bodies.

The bathroom is new but small and only has a shower, something that could prove difficult during your heats. You were spoiled on base having a tub to soak in afterward.

“Oh, blue carpet.” You say as you head into the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

It’s very blue.

Angelica laughs, nodding her head. “It could use a little updating, but you can’t deny it’s charm.”

She’s not wrong.

There’s one bedroom downstairs and two upstairs, small and simple. You’d really only need two max, but it might be nice to have an extra for visitors. You’re not sure if you could fit the bed you want in them though. There wouldn’t be much room for anything else. Maybe you could convert one room into a closet and storage.

“So what do you think?” John asks when you get to the car after viewing the house.

“It’s cute...needs a lot of work though.” You say.

He nods. “It’s cheap, but that leaves more money for fixing it to how we want. We can even add a second bathroom.”

“That would be nice.” You say. “I’m not sharing one bathroom with four men.”

He chuckles, driving down the road towards the next house. “The next house is bigger.” He says. “I think you’ll like it more.”

It is bigger. Three bedrooms, three bathrooms. Newer looking though the kitchen is a bit dated. You’re not sure how you feel about the linoleum floors though, or the strangest looking bathtub you’ve ever seen. Then again, you’re glad it at least has a tub. The rooms are spacious, just big enough for the bed you want.

“What do you think?” John asks as you drive to the final house you’re viewing that day.

“Better.” You say. “I think it could work.”

“Just wait until you see the last one.” He says.

This one is just outside Ardrossan, one of the ones he said were in this area. It’s the nicest of the three, judging by the outside. Brick, you think, not uncommon for houses in the UK. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, four acres. The largest plot of land you’ve seen today.

You’re in love as soon as you walk in.

It’s spacious, the entryway well lit and no weird carpet. The living area is nice and spacious with a fireplace. The kitchen is big and newly renovated, plenty of space for bodies to move around. The dining area is a bit small but you can live with that.

The three bedrooms are nicely sized, the main bedroom big enough for the bed you want. The carpet is new in them, soft under your shoes. They could use some repainting, but that’s easy to do. The bathrooms are new too, and one has a very spacious tub. There’s also a loft area upstairs, perfect for a cozy space, well lit that maybe Johnny could turn it into an art studio.

The back yard is nice too, a stone patio that leads out to some grass and enough space for a barn and a garden. Just exactly what you’ve been looking for.

“You like that one?” John asks as you sit in the car.

You nod, unable to keep the smile off your face. It’s the first you’ve been able to picture yourself in. You and your pack living domestically on your little farm, just a short drive to the beach. You can make that place a home, all nice and cozy like you need.

“We’ve got a lot to think about.” He says, pulling out of the driveway onto the road to make the drive back to Glasgow. “And a few more places to see tomorrow.”

You’re trying not to make your mind up already, having hope that there might be something better tomorrow, something more suited to your needs.

You take John’s hand, holding it as he drives. The reality hasn’t quite set in that this is really happening, that you’re looking at houses to live in permanently. John is retired and you’re moving on to this new chapter in your lives. It still feels like a dream, like you’re walking through some wishful daydream of what might be, and you’ll be forced to return to base soon where you’ll live for who knows how long.

That’s not the case, though, and you know that, but to you it still feels unreal.

You can’t stop thinking about that house.

The others you view are nice, but none of them quite feel like the other one did. They’re not as comforting, as inviting. You can’t picture yourself being at home in them like you can the third one you saw yesterday. Even John doesn’t quite seem as enthusiastic either, perhaps picking up on your energy. He must know you’ve already made up your mind, but you know how dangerous it is to get attached to houses. There’s no guarantee you’ll get it, if there’s other bidders.

You’re trying not to think about that too much.

“So, what do you think?” John asks as you sit in a restaurant for lunch. It’s a nice day outside, the sun shining, the sea bright blue.

“I still really like that one house.” You say.

“Yeah?” He smiles. “That’s the one singing to you?”

You nod. “It feels the most like home.” You shrug. “I don’t know how else to describe it. I can see myself settling in there and building a farm and living out the rest of our lives there comfortably.”

“I like that one too.” He says. “It has the most land and will need the least amount of work.”

“Just some painting.” You say. “Get rid of that red in the bedroom.”

“You don’t like it?” He grins.

You shake your head. “I want something cooler, less harsh on the eyes.”

“Well let’s put an offer in first, then we’ll talk about painting and furniture.”

Right. You’ll have to do that too. You don’t even have a bed to sleep in, much less anything else to furnish your future house with. You don’t even have much in terms of decorations besides your things from base. John had packed up your room for you to go through things you want and don’t want once you get settled in.

“You want to do it?” He asks, reaching across the table to take your hand.

You nod. “Let’s do it.”

He smiles softly at you, his thumb brushing your knuckles. “Let’s do it.”

The waiting is the hardest part. You’re on edge, unsure what to do, how to channel that energy as you wait for a response on whether or not the owners will accept your offer. John had gone above asking price, just to try and make sure there was a greater chance you’d get it. You really want that house.

“I hate waiting.” You say, your feet nervously tapping the arm of the couch.

“I know.” John says, his fingers scratching your scalp as you lay across his lap. “We should know soon, though.”

“Hopefully.” You say, stretching your arms up overhead. “I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

John smirks, wrapping his arms around you to tug you so you’re seated in his lap. “You need an outlet for that energy?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in. “Why, you offering?”

His hand slides up your leg. “I think I can hep with it.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. “At least work some of it out.”

You smirk, kissing him back. “I don’t know, I’m pretty anxious.”

He hums, his hand sliding to the inside of your thigh. You can feel him getting hard under your ass. “Let me take the edge off, then.”

He kisses you again before shifting you so your back is against his chest, legs spread over his. His fingers slide up your thighs, trailing over soft skin before they reach the edges of your shorts. He doesn’t bother removing the fabric, instead lifting a hand to slip it under the waistband. Your pussy is already pulsing in anticipation, slick starting to wet your folds.

He slides his hand further under your shorts and into your underwear, his fingers ghosting over your clit. You twitch, letting out a quiet sound. He rumbles low in his chest, the sound vibrating against your back. You spread your legs further, pressing your hips up into his hand.

He presses his fingers against your clit, rubbing slow circles. You whine, your head dropping back against his shoulder. His nose presses into your neck, inhaling your scent from the source.

“So sweet.” He groans, his fingers quickening into slow, tight circles against your sensitive bud. “My sweet girl.”

You moan, one arm curling around to grip the back of his hair. He growls low in his chest, his fingers sliding down to prod at your entrance. You let out a sigh as two of them push into you, stretching you open despite the fact you’ve hardly been able to keep your hands off each other.

It was a long three weeks.

He sinks his thick fingers into you, reaching as far as he can. You let out a long breath, pressing your hips against his hand to try and take him as deep as you can. Your inhale catches in your throat as he curls his fingers, pushing up against that spot inside of you. His free hand drops to your thigh as you attempt to squeeze them closed, forcing it open.

“So fucking tight and wet for me.” He groans into your ear, licking at your throat. “Taking my fingers so well.”

“Alpha,” you whine, squeezing around his fingers as he pushes against that spot with every thrust of his fingers into you.

Your toes are curling already, still sensitive from your morning romp between the sheets. His palm pushes against your clit, the calloused skin dragging against your sensitive bud with every push of his fingers.

“Fuck,” You whine, back arching as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. “Gonna cum.”

“Cum for me.” He grunts, picking up the pace, pushing his fingers fast and hard against that spot.

Your legs are shaking as you cry out, body squirming in his hold as your orgasm slams into you. You gush around his fingers, coating his hand in slick. He keeps his fingers pressed against that spot as you writhe through your orgasm, legs squeezing around his hand.

He chuckles, against your throat, pressing a kiss to your pulse point before pulling back. “Not quite as good at that as Simon.”

You’re breathing heavy, letting out a quiet sound as he pulls his fingers free. “Simon has magical hands.”

John hums. “He is very good with them.”

You grab John’s wrist, pulling his hand up before taking his fingers in your mouth. You lick at the digits, cleaning your cum off of them, moaning at the taste of yourself on your tongue.

John is breathing heavily, his scent thick in the air. You pull his hand from your mouth, sliding off his lap onto your knees. You turn to face him, pushing his legs apart, your eyes locked onto the bulge in his pants.

“Let me return the favor.” You say, hands going for his belt.

You undo it and unzip his jeans, pushing them down just slightly so you can free his cock from his briefs. It’s hard and heavy in your hand, fully aroused and all he did was finger you. He’s such a good alpha.

You spit into your hand before dragging it along his cock, pumping up and down a few times. He twitches against your hand, likely still sensitive as well after you milked him for all he was worth twice this morning.

You lean forward, dragging the tip of your tongue across the tip of his cock. He lets out a groan, his head falling back against the couch as you tease his sensitive head with your tongue.

His hand sinks into your hair as you take him into your mouth, dragging your tongue down the length of his cock, careful not to catch him with your teeth. You close your lips around him, sucking hard as you pull back up to the tip. His hips jerk just slightly, a deep groan leaving his lips. His head tilts down to watch you, your eyes locking with his as you sink down on his cock again.

You take him as deep as you can, feeling the edge of your gag reflex as his cock pushes at the back of your tongue. You’re out of practice. You haven’t been sucking Johnny’s dick as often as you used to, missing the quickies before he had to go to training, always late and getting reprimanded, despite the fact John knew where he was and what he was doing. You never told on him, but one look at your face and John knew.

You continue to suck John’s dick, using your hand for what you can’t reach. His hand tangles in your hair, not pushing but holding you there as you suck him off, his cock twitching against your tongue. He’s close, you can tell by the restrained way he tries to keep his hips from bucking, his fingers tight as they grip your hair.

You keep eye contact with him, squeezing the base of his cock as you suck extra hard, dragging your lips up his length. You prod at his slit with your tongue before taking him into your mouth again, sinking as deep as you can. You slide a hand down, squeezing his balls and he cums, spurting into your mouth with a growl. You take it all, swallowing his cum and licking him clean.

He lets out a long breath, falling back against the couch as you wipe the drool off your chin. There’s a moment of silence before his phone starts ringing where it sits on the coffee table behind you. You reach back and grab it for him, still on your knees, his soft cock in your hand.

“Hello?” He answers, leaning back against the couch. It’s not one of the guys, his face too serious as he listens. He’s back to the professional, as if he wasn’t just having his cock sucked less than two minutes ago. “That’s great.” He says, his eyes lighting up.

You hold your breath, tucking him back into his pants as you stare at his face, trying to hear what’s being said but you can’t.

“Great, thank you so much.” He says before hanging up.

He stares at you for a long moment, phone in hand. The anticipation is killing you, nerves and excitement twisting deep in your stomach for what he’s about to say. You know it, you can tell just by looking at him, but you need to hear it out loud.

“We got the house.”

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[imatter2iexist]

@oripoke @bo-beanies I have so many photos and documents.. Ive been telling the truth. But instead of being supportive, you subjected me to neglect, abuse, and torment. The TLDR is that you knowingly, and willingly, abused and controlled a mentally ill person; a close friend of years you *knew* was autistic and wouldnt understand; you stole my assets and safety, traumatized me, then threw me on the streets to die, alone. I was i just this object for you to use, abuse, and then leave for dead on the streets when you were done using me? Like i was garbage? In the beginning, there were days I literally could never put my phone down because I was 24.7 comforting bean. Id have to hide and be quiet in the bottom room, just to talk to Rory on the phone for a few minutes, or bean would get would get wildly upset if they saw. I knew what would happen if I disobeyed, and i was terrified. Id do everything you asked even when you hurt me for it. And yet, when i freak about the extreme trauma you cause me, doubled with my brothers abuse- when i had panic attacks from your abuse, you stole everything and left me for dead. Id have stayed by your side for months until you felt better, and you knew that, but either of you talking to me for 2 minutes was too much effort, no matter how badly i needed it... as much as i communicated this, you just ignored it

I was always there for both of you, even when it radically hurt me. I tried so hard to keep bean happy, for MONTHS, but when it was my turn to need help i was abandoned, hated, tossed away like I was nothing, and mocked for the illness i cant control. "Its your fault for being poor, its your fault for being sick" is what you said to me. Of course i snapped. You have no idea how much pain you put me in, to be starving, to be on the street with an infection, to lose my cat. Everything just got worse. My disorder is not something i can control. After 7 months of hell i was still not a person to you i was just an object or a toy for you to use. Why talk to this thing now, why bother? I was just a pet for you two to keep and torment until you were bored of my messages

The pain was too immense for me to handle, each month it just got worse. It hurt so badly. I cant describe it and i wouldnt wish it on even the most evil soul. It's agony. No human deserves what i had to go through- nobody.  Hard drugs couldnt even make it better. It was both mental and physical hell. Do you know how painful my med increases were, too, but i still did them because thats what you told me to do? I STILL listened and trusted you because i cared. I got therapy, too. And you still treated me like dirt, and im the one that has to pay for it in the hospital, in debt, in isolation and immense pain. Im the one that has to pay for all the suffering that you caused. Then you parade my dead name around, and accuse me of things I did not do. I did horrible things, im not saying i didnt. But you cant admit what you've done at *all*

I did everything you both asked of me even when it was hard, contradicting and confusing. Id never asked either of you for ANYTHING. Not ever. All I asked for was to talk, to help me with this stupid fucking disorder, but after everything I went through and how hard I tried and everything i suffered. Instead of being there, instead of responding to the only thing ive *ever* needed from either of you, you radically hurt me, then left me to die. TWICE

You may not believe this, but i don't. Want. To. Be. Like. This. I didnt choose to have this disorder, i dont choose the attacks that happen, and when i attempt suicide its *NOT* for attention like you scream. You put intentions in my mouth so often; it has nothing to do with your stupid blogs. Its to make. The pain. Stop. Its so immense, the only thing that goes in my head is "stop, make it stop, please make it stop" and i try and escape from my body to make the suffering end. There's no other way to escape your own mind but to die. And drugs, which I've gotten even further sick for abusing, but nothing else fucking helps

You all act like its a choice i made, and that's what you abandoned me for. I cant control my panic attacks. I dont control the disorder i got from my brothers abuse. i dont *WANT* to talk to any of you ever again or even think about you ever again. But that's the thing about mental illness, its crazy because it is, and when I said it wont fucking let me.... i mean IT WONT FUCKING LET ME. Could you ask a schizophrenic person to stop seeing demons?? "Like hey dude,  just stop seeing them. Have you tried just stopping?" I know pea had fun mocking me, and you all had a good laugh, "lmaooo you couldn't even not do it for a single day"- i didnt choose to be like this. I have the meds and I have the therapy. I did what you wanted but you just hurt me again. And again. How cruel is it that bean has panic attacks on the daily and gets comforted for it, and you all did this to me for my very first one. Rory told me he loved me more than hes ever loved anyone, he told me i could always talk to him if i was hurting, he told me it was okay, he reassured me he was there for me and that it was completely okay.Rory, you told me it was okay. You did. Then you disappeared without even saying goodbye. After 7 months of confusion, not understanding whats going on or whats even happening to me, or where ill sleep the next day. Constantly hurt and abused and hungry and infected, mourning everything i lost. You can never give me back my cat, or the opportunities i lost, my trans health care, my savings. You cant undo the immense pain I've felt and you cant reverse the trauma you've caused

Yes, I hurt you too. I did fucked up things, too. But not. And I repeat. Not until after 7 months of this mental and physical torture. I couldnt take it anymore

And I *still* kept trying. I *still* am. BECAUSE THATS WHAT YOU TOLD ME TO DO. My meds are at 220mg and excruciating, therapy is so incredibly confusing, but im still doing it even if i desperately dont want to. But you two can torture me, because you didnt want to talk to me for a few minutes, and explain what I didnt understand. Instead you left me in the dark. While you were both going to *another* con just moments later, and sleeping comfortably, and going to parties and weddings; i was still in the hospital, in incredible pain, for an incredibly long time, from events you directly caused. Do you understand the mental toll that does to a person? I went to hospital to hospital, reaching out, just more and more confused, just more and more hurt.

While im going through all this, as if im not a real human being behind your computer; besides peas ranting the only things i recieved are "man my notifications" "man this sucks" "Yeah I hate it" like im an "it" a toy or a thing. Parading my dead name is a close contender, but its the amount of lies that hurt me the most. I did not ever have any kind of conversation with Rory OR Bean, I did not fake being in a coma for 2 weeks, I was very much fucking out. I've been telling the truth, even when its hard. Why cant you? Im not afraid to tell the truth.Communication and honesty are human things. My attempts have been very real and very painful, I made myself take pictures and I have the fucking discharge papers from every single one, because I've been telling the truth and can PROVE IT. I did so much I didnt want to do. I went through so much I didnt want to. You broke my boundaries and abused me, i gave up so much of myself and my safety and my life for you, and it was okay. But im now the criminal, your boundaries > my life. Your notifications>my human life.

Nobody's reading this, nobody gives a fuck, im never going to hear anything other then "maaaan this is so shitty, we destroyed his life and his mental and his job and his healthcare and we almost killed him with our neglect....but maaan hes really clogging up my notifications and that makes him the most evil, horrible, awful and disgusting person in the world. Let him die so I can get some quiet." And "Urgh omg I cant believe i have to post this". That's all it ever is. That's all its ever going to be. You hide behind an interent wall, pretending not to see the abuse you did to my body, my person, and my life

It's time to PONDER, fellas...

[mistleaneous-chaos]

Played through chapters 3 and 4 of Deltarune and I got a few thoughts rattling around in my head so pardon if it's a bit unorganized/messy for a good bit

Spoilers for Deltarune Chapters 3 & 4

Kris really got failed by every adult around them in varying degrees

If Dess isn't the Knight then it's probably a Gerson situation where she's been dead for a while and the Knight is her dust on her baseball bat or something. It could either be due to something that happened in the shelter or someone explicitly using the dark world as a way to bring her back even if it is in a weird fucked up way.

I don't think that Kris is a bad person, I just think that whatever "promise" they made is something the person on the phone is holding over their head and making them uphold.

Kris' relationship with Susie is something that I wanna see elaborated on more, because their rapport with each other outside of things that we directly make Kris do/say is really important to me because of how well they get along. (I ship Krusie but that's irrelevant...partially)

For context, it's a headcanon of mine that outside of our dialogue options and things that we, specifically, do, the things Kris does is of their own volition, taking whatever crumb of Freedom they can get, but if I'm wrong then please correct me.

I don't know what would be more tragic, if "The Cage" referred to in the Prophecy really is Kris and that's the purpose they're meant for in the grand scheme of things, or if it's the Vessel and Kris was never meant to be friends with Susie and Ralsei and it's because of Gaster or smth they got dragged into this.

I'm really glad Toby didn't make Toriel or Asgore "perfect" , and gave them legitimate flaws. Asgore flaunting his attempts to "woo" Toriel right in front of Kris and never really talking as if they're separated hurts, but at the same time he does love and care about Kris, even if he's preoccupied with a lot of other things(looking forward to seeing more of that in the next chapter).

And then with Toriel, her not even calling Kris once after them being out until 2 in the morning in a thunderstorm, while she's at home dancing drunk with someone she met less than half a week ago. And then when they get home, you can visibly see Kris' embarrasment, with them turning their head away from Susie when she talks to them. Then Toriel nearly falls over on Kris and just tells them there's pancakes in the fridge(which Sans ate), and goes back to partying with Sans.

I wouldn't be surprised if whoever was on the phone(most likely Carol imo but it could be someone else, maybe Asgore) is someone that Kris looks up to, or just someone who acts empathetic to what's happening to them. Maybe someone they met in therapy/knows they went to therapy(which they may have gone to if I read the implications of the Chapter 4 Egg Room correctly.) Honestly I wouldn't be surprised with how much Kris must feel like such an outsider even in their own room. They have to look at all of Asriel's achievements every single time they wake up, to the point Susie comments on it when she visits their room. Along with that, they're the only human in town which is something that gets to them, to the point that upon seeing other humans even in a book they shut it immediately.

On the topic of their family, I also have some thoughs on Asriel, and I have this to say.

I would not be surprised if Asriel just decides to stay at college and say that he has exams or something. With how much he would have to deal with in Hometown, and the fact that he would have to deal with the loss of Dess again, I don't think it's that much of a reach that he'd just stay gone. (Also I do think Asriel and Dess were in a relationship based on the fact that Asriel's old clothes and his retainer were literally in her room which probably hadn't been touched in years).

Now I'm gonna talk about the prophecy, which is a WHOLE can o' worms.

I think that at least one person in the prophecy is not a member of the $!$! squad. It's vague enough to where it's entirely possible that one of them is another character(Like The Cage being intended for The Vessel rather than Kris), and there are parts that are just straight up different like Ralsei saying Susie should be the one wearing ribbons(WHICH COULD BE A FUNNY BIT SO IGNORE), or the fact that "The Girl" is a vague name which depicts a character of the prophecy who uses a sword, which for a prophecy that has very vague imagery in other cases, is a very definitive picture to paint when Susie herself uses an Axe.

Now for what I think the ending is, I think it's something that involves either a sacrifice of one of the gang or someone else, I'm not entirely sure.

For Chapter 5, I'm looking forward to the implied Asgore section. I think it has the potential to be the most Undertale-feeling chapter out of all of them so far, especially with his prophecy panel having him wearing an actual crown. Along with that, I think having more Asgore-Kris interaction has the potential to be very sweet and have character development for the big man or very sad with him still having to deal with the weight he's imposed onto himself of "fixing" his family situation.

[firelilyfox]

Equally stubborn

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader Summary: You and Bucky had a fight. And after a successful mission you two get some time to work this shit out. Words: 1k Warnings: established relationship with Bucky. fighting. cursing. mentions of bruises and cuts. mentions of injury. Bucky being very protective about you. mad Bucky.

_________________________

„So you two had a fight, huh?“ Yelena ask and takes a sip of her beer. 

You mirrored her, but instead of a beer you had a whiskey and you empty the glass at once. The liquid left a burning feeling in your throat, which you welcomed with a sigh. It numbed the throbbing pain, of some cuts and bruises on your body, reminding you of the successful mission you just accomplished. 

„Yeah. It was pretty bad.“ 

Yelena frowned. „You two love birds are normally disgustingly heart-eyed. What happened?“ 

You shrug. „Can’t remember.“ You tried to avoid her gaze by looking around the streets. The bar you choose was located in a little shallow side street, so it was not really busy. 

It was a lie. You remembered all to well why Bucky was mad at you. Yesterday the two of you had another mission together. Nothing big. Just a hunt for information. Sneak in, don’t get noticed, steal some codes and sneak out without getting caught. 

But…

Someone noticed. And he had a gun. He shot at Bucky and you pushed him out of the way, so that the bullet hit you. It was just a little flesh wound, because you managed to turn just in time. Yes it was a nasty pain in your upper leg and yes he is a Super Soldier and could’ve handled a little bullet like it’s nothing … but you would rather die than let him get hurt if you can do something to avoid it. 

The discussion afterwards was … well not so nice. You stormed out on him and haven’t seen Bucky since then. 

„You are a bad liar.“ Yelena pointed at you with her index finger, still holding the bottle. „Tell me.“ 

You sigh dramatically. But you tell her everything that happened. 

After you finished she emptied her bottle and started laughing out loud. „Damn. This is the most pathetic couple fight I’ve heard in a long time!“ 

You crossed your arms in defense. „It isn’t pathetic!“ 

„Let me guess“, she started giggling. „You haven’t told him where we are and what we are doing right now. Am I right?“ 

„Well,“ you rolled your eyes. „If he wants to know if I’m still alive, then he can check my pulse-transmitter in the base. And he can track my location! It’s not like I’m hiding from him.“ 

„Yeah but you could’ve told me where you were going.“ A deep voice made you look up to the sky in silent pleading for some help. 

„There is the boyfriend and the emotional support“, Yelena laughs, raising her empty beer to Bucky and Sam. 

„C’mon Yelena! At least you could’ve told me“, Bucky snapped at her. 

„Nah. This is none of my business. I’m just here to get drunk.“ 

Sam nodded inside the bar. „Then lets catch some drinks. I think these two knuckleheads need some time alone.“ 

You watch them leave, trying to show Bucky a cold shoulder, but that man has a talent for getting under your skin no matter what. He leaned on the table with one arm, looking at you with a hard expression on his face. 

„Are you trying to kill me? Why did you left without a message?“ 

Your head snapped around to meet his gaze, still sitting on the high bar stool. „Are you kidding me? You left first this morning and didn’t tell me where you’d go!“ 

His jaw tightened as he scanned the surroundings with a quick look. „I was training with Steve and Nat. And I didn’t wake you up because …“ 

You raised your chin challengingly. „Because? Speak up.“ 

„Because I was fucking mad at you!“ His voice was a low growl and he leaned in closer so no one could eavesdrop on you. „But I didn’t thought you would just ran away and do something stupid the second I turn around.“ 

Your blood began to boil in your veins. „Stupid?! I went on a mission with Yelena! Do you really think I throw myself into senseless danger just out of spite?“ Your voice slipped a tone higher. „I needed to clear my head.“ 

Something in his blue eyes softened a little bit. Like he could empathize with the meaning of your words. „And by that you punch the bad guys?“ 

You shrug and then nodded. 

Bucky tried to fight a crooked grin from showing on his lips. He lost. „I would be lying if I said I didn’t love you even more because of this.“ 

His hand rested on your thigh, just an inch below your injury. The warmth of his touch forced a shiver through your entire body.

Damn him and his cursed power to make me weak in the knees like that. 

„But you’re hurt, doll.“ His voice dropped to a whisper full of regrets. „You’re hurt because of me.“ 

And with that your mouth dropped open. Was he really blaming himself for this? „Bucky, it’s just a flesh wound. No big deal, I…“ 

„For me it is a big deal!“ He thundered. His blue eyes darkened with something deeper than pain. „If something happens to you, than I’m the one to blame. I should’ve protected you!“ 

All the anger you felt, because if the fight yesterday and his disappearance this morning, just vanished. You reached out for him, resting a hand over his pounding heart. 

„But it is my job to protect you too“, you said softly. 

Bucky refuses to look up, too ashamed to meet your gaze. So you gently cupped his face and force him to do. „Bucky I did it to protect you. And I would do it again, because I love you.“ 

His eyes dart down to your lips and up again to your eyes, scanning every inch of your face. Sucking in the realization that you are alive and well (mostly) right here infront of him. 

„I love you too, doll. But please never do that again. I can’t handle to loose you. It would be the death of me.“ He meant it. You knew that with every fiber of your being. 

This man would die for you … but so would you die for him. The feeling was more than mutual. 

„If you promise to kiss me now, then I promise to practice the bullet dodging for the next time.“ A little smile appeared on your face when Bucky closed his eyes dramatically. He was debating with himself if he could win this argument. 

„Love, you are unbelievable.“ 

Bucky grabbed you by the neck and gave you a kiss full of frustration over his stubborn girlfriend. 

__________________________

Thank you for reading! All interactions are highly appreciated (but please don't copy my work)

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[zozo-01]

in which mydei helps this lovesick fool (his friend and brother-in-arms) confess his feelings, the kremnoan way (aka, the best way) <3

Despite what many people think, Lord Mydeimos is quite adept at dealing with his emotions in a healthy way. The assumption that the disgraced Prince of Castrum Kremnos was a brute who couldn't tell anger from sadness isn't an unfounded one, but it's false nonetheless.

As a war leader, Mydei knows the importance of keeping your feelings in check, lest you let them take over and have your men die. For most, this meant burying your feelings in the darkest parts of your heart. Mydei however, found that counterintuitive. If you cram every single thought and emotion into a small space, it will build up pressure and then blow up in your face.

So he wrote poems in Kremnoan to put words to feelings that the local languages could never capture. (Part of it was so that he could hear his mother in his words.) He'd speak to his fellow Chrysos Heirs whenever the Flame-Chase burden became too heavy to carry. (Castorice was a good partner to talk to, for only she knew death more intimately then he.) He even baked honey cakes as a treat whenever the somber days seemed never ending. (With the help of the pretty baker of course.)

Some may question his manhood, that was fine by him. He knows it's better to wallow your feelings with cakes than with childish outbursts.

His comrade, on the other hand, is the type that would rather swallow his own head than swallow his own pride.

Is it a custom on Aedes-Elysia? To pine so heavily, it's making the people around you uncomfortable? If that's the case, then perhaps the lost nation was not the paradise Phainon made it out to be.

Speaking of the Deliverer, instead of performing his heroic duties like settling disputes at the market or saving cats from trees, he stood in place like a fool. His eyes were stuck on a fellow Chrysos Heir, hands constantly pressing his clothes down to make sure his clothes were perfect. Mydei looked back at the woman who had captured his friend's attention.

Lady (Y/N). Where she was from, nobody knows. She had golden blood flowing through her veins and the will to see Amphoreus to enter the Era Nova, so Aglaea lets her do as she pleases. Though her place in the Flame-Chase journey was a mystery that he couldn't solve.

So many questions surrounded her being.

"Do you think Lady (Y/N) would like me better if I had cat ears?"

Of course that is what the lovesick fool wonders.

"No," Mydei scoffed, not wanting to dignify that question. "If she were to like you, I would assume she'd like you better if you were fully human." He crossed his arms and hoped that was enough to end his questioning.

"But Lady (Y/N) always pets the cats she sees on the street! It's clear she has a fondness for them," he whined, turning his pathetic face to his feet. "Maybe if I were like them, she would finally return my affections."

Mydeimos slapped the back of Phainon's head for even entertaining such a foolish thought.

The Deliverer groaned and rubbed his head where the Prince hit him. He turned his head to the side and glared at him, and for a second, Mydei could see the rage in his blue eyes over what happened. But just as quickly as it blazed over him, anger dissipated from Phainon's body and he continued mope and yearn.

(There was a hidden anger, a festering rage, that would spark in his eyes. Perhaps if Phainon let his feeling's out, he would be less angsty all the time.)

"I know!" Phainon's head perked up like nothing happened. He turned his body before the Prince, and Mydei knew he wouldn't be able to brace himself for whatever nonsense would come out of his mouth. "Why don't you tell me how Kremnos confess their love to each other!" he exclaimed, not realizing how awful of an idea that was.

It wasn't that Kremnoans didn't believe in love, it was that the idea of romance was foreign to them. Love wasn't romantic poems that go on unnecessarily about someone's eyes. It was defending your lover in the battlefield, ripping your enemies to shreds before they could lay a hand on your partner. Perhaps not a suitable way to confess to someone. The intensity would probably scare (Y/N) off.

Still, as much as he teased the Deliverer, Mydei still considered him a friend and did want to help him out.

"In Kremnos, we prove our love through battle," he began. "If you cannot suitably protect your partner on the battlefield, then you aren't worthy enough to be with them."

Phainon pondered on that sentiment, what he was thinking, Mydei didn't want to know. A few minutes later, he came up with his answer.

"So what you're saying is that I should show my love through fists?" Phainon asks.

"Essentially, though, there might be better ways to confess your feelings," Mydei said. The Deliverer seemed like the type of man who would fit more closely to Mnestia's definition of love, rather then NIkador's. "Have you even tried to use your words?"

"I have, but everytime I sit down and try to write about my feelings, it never comes out right." Phainon sighed and turned his head to look at (Y/N) over his shoulder. "Yes she is beautiful, but there's so much more to her. She's fiercely loyal to those she cares about, from all of the Chrysos Heirs to every single child in Okhema." Phainon's eyes glazed over and Mydei could see the depth of his adoration.

"She's kind, extremely so, almost to a fault." He chuckled, "did you know that a boy tried to rob her, and instead of calling the guards or apprehending him, she gave him the money needed, no questions asked." Phainon looked down with a smile. "She even gave him tips on how not to get caught next time. If I ever get the honour of being on the receiving end of even a fraction of her kindness, then I would truly be the blessed man in Amphoreus."

"She is what a hero should be, and next to her I don't even deserve the title of 'Deliverer'. Her light would be enough to guide us all safely to the Era Nova." He concluded with a sigh. Phainon looked back at the Prince, and Mydeimos was at a loss of words. He truly does love her.

"For someone who claims that he is not good with words, you almost moved me to tears," Mydei snarked. His sarcasm covered for the fact that he would swoon if those words were meant for him. It almost made him want to become a better poet for his own romantic endeavor.

"She deserves more than the measly words that I can give her." Phainon's angst has once again taken over, which meant that he needed cheering up.

Mydei started walking in (Y/N)'s direction, looking back when he noticed Phainon wasn't following.

"What are you waiting for Deliverer?" he smirked and looked forward. "You have to prove to your woman that you can protect her in a fight by beating me." 

Phainon's eyes lit up at the challenge, not being the kind who can turn his back on a fight.

"You're on!" he exclaims running up to his side. Phainon whispered his thanks in Mydei's ears, to which he nodded in response. Some people just need a little push before they're ready to take a big leap.

Mydeimos was a fan of love more so then he is a fan of war. One more secret that the Prince keeps close to his chest is that he loves weddings. He better get an invitation to Phainon and (Y/N).

(You remind yourself that the next time you see Phainon, you'll let him know that he does speak very loudly whenever he's passionate about something. You just didn't know that his passion extended to you.)

[imatter2iexist]

@oripoke @bo-beanies I have so many photos and documents.. Ive been telling the truth. But instead of being supportive, you subjected me to neglect, abuse, and torment. The TLDR is that you knowingly, and willingly, abused and controlled a mentally ill person; a close friend of years you *knew* was autistic and wouldnt understand; you stole my assets and safety, traumatized me, then threw me on the streets to die, alone. I was i just this object for you to use, abuse, and then leave for dead on the streets when you were done using me? Like i was garbage? In the beginning, there were days I literally could never put my phone down because I was 24.7 comforting bean. Id have to hide and be quiet in the bottom room, just to talk to Rory on the phone for a few minutes, or bean would get would get wildly upset if they saw. I knew what would happen if I disobeyed, and i was terrified. Id do everything you asked even when you hurt me for it. And yet, when i freak about the extreme trauma you cause me, doubled with my brothers abuse- when i had panic attacks from your abuse, you stole everything and left me for dead. Id have stayed by your side for months until you felt better, and you knew that, but either of you talking to me for 2 minutes was too much effort, no matter how badly i needed it... as much as i communicated this, you just ignored it

I was always there for both of you, even when it radically hurt me. I tried so hard to keep bean happy, for MONTHS, but when it was my turn to need help i was abandoned, hated, tossed away like I was nothing, and mocked for the illness i cant control. "Its your fault for being poor, its your fault for being sick" is what you said to me. Of course i snapped. You have no idea how much pain you put me in, to be starving, to be on the street with an infection, to lose my cat. Everything just got worse. My disorder is not something i can control. After 7 months of hell i was still not a person to you i was just an object or a toy for you to use. Why talk to this thing now, why bother? I was just a pet for you two to keep and torment until you were bored of my messages

The pain was too immense for me to handle, each month it just got worse. It hurt so badly. I cant describe it and i wouldnt wish it on even the most evil soul. It's agony. No human deserves what i had to go through- nobody.  Hard drugs couldnt even make it better. It was both mental and physical hell. Do you know how painful my med increases were, too, but i still did them because thats what you told me to do? I STILL listened and trusted you because i cared. I got therapy, too. And you still treated me like dirt, and im the one that has to pay for it in the hospital, in debt, in isolation and immense pain. Im the one that has to pay for all the suffering that you caused. Then you parade my dead name around, and accuse me of things I did not do. I did horrible things, im not saying i didnt. But you cant admit what you've done at *all*

I did everything you both asked of me even when it was hard, contradicting and confusing. Id never asked either of you for ANYTHING. Not ever. All I asked for was to talk, to help me with this stupid fucking disorder, but after everything I went through and how hard I tried and everything i suffered. Instead of being there, instead of responding to the only thing ive *ever* needed from either of you, you radically hurt me, then left me to die. TWICE

You may not believe this, but i don't. Want. To. Be. Like. This. I didnt choose to have this disorder, i dont choose the attacks that happen, and when i attempt suicide its *NOT* for attention like you scream. You put intentions in my mouth so often; it has nothing to do with your stupid blogs. Its to make. The pain. Stop. Its so immense, the only thing that goes in my head is "stop, make it stop, please make it stop" and i try and escape from my body to make the suffering end. There's no other way to escape your own mind but to die. And drugs, which I've gotten even further sick for abusing, but nothing else fucking helps

You all act like its a choice i made, and that's what you abandoned me for. I cant control my panic attacks. I dont control the disorder i got from my brothers abuse. i dont *WANT* to talk to any of you ever again or even think about you ever again. But that's the thing about mental illness, its crazy because it is, and when I said it wont fucking let me.... i mean IT WONT FUCKING LET ME. Could you ask a schizophrenic person to stop seeing demons?? "Like hey dude,  just stop seeing them. Have you tried just stopping?" I know pea had fun mocking me, and you all had a good laugh, "lmaooo you couldn't even not do it for a single day"- i didnt choose to be like this. I have the meds and I have the therapy. I did what you wanted but you just hurt me again. And again. How cruel is it that bean has panic attacks on the daily and gets comforted for it, and you all did this to me for my very first one. Rory told me he loved me more than hes ever loved anyone, he told me i could always talk to him if i was hurting, he told me it was okay, he reassured me he was there for me and that it was completely okay.Rory, you told me it was okay. You did. Then you disappeared without even saying goodbye. After 7 months of confusion, not understanding whats going on or whats even happening to me, or where ill sleep the next day. Constantly hurt and abused and hungry and infected, mourning everything i lost. You can never give me back my cat, or the opportunities i lost, my trans health care, my savings. You cant undo the immense pain I've felt and you cant reverse the trauma you've caused

Yes, I hurt you too. I did fucked up things, too. But not. And I repeat. Not until after 7 months of this mental and physical torture. I couldnt take it anymore

And I *still* kept trying. I *still* am. BECAUSE THATS WHAT YOU TOLD ME TO DO. My meds are at 220mg and excruciating, therapy is so incredibly confusing, but im still doing it even if i desperately dont want to. But you two can torture me, because you didnt want to talk to me for a few minutes, and explain what I didnt understand. Instead you left me in the dark. While you were both going to *another* con just moments later, and sleeping comfortably, and going to parties and weddings; i was still in the hospital, in incredible pain, for an incredibly long time, from events you directly caused. Do you understand the mental toll that does to a person? I went to hospital to hospital, reaching out, just more and more confused, just more and more hurt.

While im going through all this, as if im not a real human being behind your computer; besides peas ranting the only things i recieved are "man my notifications" "man this sucks" "Yeah I hate it" like im an "it" a toy or a thing. Parading my dead name is a close contender, but its the amount of lies that hurt me the most. I did not ever have any kind of conversation with Rory OR Bean, I did not fake being in a coma for 2 weeks, I was very much fucking out. I've been telling the truth, even when its hard. Why cant you? Im not afraid to tell the truth.Communication and honesty are human things. My attempts have been very real and very painful, I made myself take pictures and I have the fucking discharge papers from every single one, because I've been telling the truth and can PROVE IT. I did so much I didnt want to do. I went through so much I didnt want to. You broke my boundaries and abused me, i gave up so much of myself and my safety and my life for you, and it was okay. But im now the criminal, your boundaries > my life. Your notifications>my human life.

Nobody's reading this, nobody gives a fuck, im never going to hear anything other then "maaaan this is so shitty, we destroyed his life and his mental and his job and his healthcare and we almost killed him with our neglect....but maaan hes really clogging up my notifications and that makes him the most evil, horrible, awful and disgusting person in the world. Let him die so I can get some quiet." And "Urgh omg I cant believe i have to post this". That's all it ever is. That's all its ever going to be. You hide behind an interent wall, pretending not to see the abuse you did to my body, my person, and my life

Sambar Deer (Rusa unicolor) and Rufous Treepie (Dendrocitta Vagabunda) - Sariska National Park, India 

Photographed by Naveen Kumar Singh‎

[cinnxmxngxrl]

Hiiiii, oh my God, I love your stories so much. Could you do one about Harry Da Souza, where someone tortures the Reader, who happens to be his wife and the person he loves most in the world? And she gets scared to tell him the truth, so she just makes up some stupid excuse like 'I fell down the stairs.' Thank you, I luv youuuuu!

“Payback”

Harry Da Souza x Wife!Reader

Harry’s Masterlist

Summary: You can’t lie to your husband, he knows you too well. And when he realizes that you’re covered in bruises, he makes sure it never happens again.

WC: 5.6k

Warning/Tags: smut, minors DNI, violence, torture (nothing too explicit), blood and bruises, unprotected piv, oral (f!receiving), drugging, hurt/comfort, protective/vengeful Harry, implied murder.

You flinched when the front door opened.

It was just Harry. Of course it was just Harry. It sounded like him, after all these years of marriage you could recognize his footsteps by heart. And yet, you still jumped.

You were curled up on the far end of the couch with a blanket pulled tightly around you, hoodie sleeves tugged over your hands, collar yanked up to your chin to hide the purple blooming along your throat. Your ribs ached when you breathed. Your face throbbed. You didn’t even look at him when he came into the room.

“Alright, babe?” Harry’s voice was low, a little tired, a little rough, like it always was after dealing with the Harrigans all day. “You ate?”

You nodded, keeping your eyes on the TV even though you hadn’t registered a single word of the program for the past hour.

He moved towards you and you felt yourself tensing, not out of fear of him, never fear of him, but out of fear that he’d see. That he’d notice. Because you knew him, and you knew that if he did, all hell would break loose.

You’d told yourself you wouldn’t cry again, much less in front of him. But the second his hand touched your hair, gentle as always, the tears came anyway, no matter how hard you tried.

Harry crouched beside the couch immediately, cupping your jaw. “Hey. What’s this, hmm?” His thumb brushed under your eye.

You turned your face away before he could see the swelling. But you’d forgotten that Harry was the kind of man who noticed, he was trained to see this kind of things. To observe. His fingers found your wrist, and you winced in pain, quickly he rolled the sleeve up, and saw the dark purple bruise blooming across your skin, freezing at the sight.

“What the fuck happened to your arm?” His voice was quiet. Lethal.

Your throat closed. You opened your mouth and closed it again. Your lips trembled as you scrambled for the lie you’d settled on earlier, the one that sounded just believable enough.

“I fell down the stairs.”

Harry went so still it was like he turned to stone.

You tried to force a laugh. “I was rushing. Carrying the laundry basket. Didn’t see the last few steps. Landed hard on my side.”

He stood silent. His eyes swept over you with clinical precision, like he was reconstructing a crime scene in his head.

You should’ve known better. Harry had tortured people for hours, covered up dozens of bodies for the Harrigans. He knew bruising patterns. He knew impact angles. He knew lies.

“You fell,” he repeated, voice ice. “Down the stairs, you say?”

You nodded too fast.

He took a slow breath through his nose. “Take the hoodie off.”

“No.”

“Take it off.”

“Harry, please—”

“Take it the fuck off.”

You flinched again. That shattered him more than your bruises, the fact that you were so scared, so tense, that you almost seemed afraid of him.

“I won’t touch you,” he said, hands up. “Not unless you want me to. Just—please, babe. Please don’t lie to me.”

Your throat cracked on a sob. And then you pulled the hoodie off.

Harry looked. Really looked. At the bruises, at the outline of fingers on your neck, at the way you held yourself like your ribs were broken.

You expected him to yell or to punch something. But instead, he sat down. Just sat on the couch next to you, with his hands clasped between his knees. Breathing hard.

Then—very softly:

“Who did this to you?”

You wiped your cheek. “It doesn’t matter—” You didn’t want to cause more pain for Harry, you knew how much stress, how many sleepless nights, his job already brought him. And more than anything, you didn’t want to be the reason he walked into something worse, you didn’t want him going after some dangerous man for revenge.

“It matters to me.” His eyes burned now. With guilt and fury. “You think I can just look at this and let it go? You think I can see you like this and not kill someone for it?”

“Can we just let this go?” you asked, voice shaking, trying to blink away the tears already threatening to spill again.

Harry’s eyes flashed, his jaw clenched. “How the fuck do you expect me to let this go? Why won’t you tell me who did this to you?”

Your hands trembled. “I’m scared.”

He looked up, startled. “Of me?” He said, and prayed silently that the answer would be no, that you weren’t scared of him. The thought of you fearing him was something he couldn’t stand.

“No. Of—what you’d do.”

He reached for you slowly, and you let him this time. His arms went around you, his chin resting on top of your head, and you pressed your face to his chest, shuddering.

“I’ve never hurt you,” he said quietly. “Not once. Not ever.”

“I know.” It was true, Harry had ever hurt you. He had never laid a hand on you, never broken a glass or punched a wall in anger when arguing with you. Most of the time, he didn’t even raise his voice. Only when you pushed him too far… when your anger got loud enough to drown his silence, did he ever snap back. And even then, it was words, it was never violence.

“You’re my wife. You’re mine. No one touches what’s mine.” A pause. “And gets to go like nothing happened.”

You didn’t answer, and his grip tightened.

“Tell me who it was. Please.”

You hesitated, but you knew there was no way out of this. Even if you didn’t tell him, Harry would find out one way or another, that’s what he did for a living, tracking people down, piecing together what others tried to hide. So maybe it was better to just… make it easier for him.

“I—I think his name was Carlos, or something with a C. Said it was Jaime’s orders.”

You felt the change in him instantly. The way his whole body went tense. Silent. Calculating. Like a predator that’s just caught a scent.

“Did he do anything else to you?”

He didn’t say it out loud, he couldn’t even say that word, but you felt the weight of the question in his eyes. He was asking if the man had done more than the bruises he could see, If something worse, something unforgivable, had been done in places Harry couldn’t spot at first sight.

“No, no,” you shook your head. “Just roughed me up. Said you should think twice about whose side you’re on.”

Harry let out a slow breath, one he hadn’t realized he was holding. It wasn’t much. The bruises were still there, you had gone through something no one should have to go through. And the fact that he hadn’t been there to stop it, and that it was all becouse of the life he leads, made him feel like his chest was caving in. But at least it wasn’t that. At least that line hadn’t been crossed.

Harry kissed your temple. “You won’t see him again. I promise you that.”

The day Harry married you, he made his vows, to love you, to stand by your side in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, until death parted you.

But silently, just to himself, he’d made another one. To keep his world—the violence, the shadows, the blood—away from you.

And seeing you like this now… bruised, scared, hurt… he’d broken that vow.

“Let me make you a cuppa, yeah love?” he said softly, already walking to the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

He put the kettle on. Grabbed your favorite black tea. A spoonful of honey to make it extra sweet. And then, quietly, he crushed a little white pill and stirred it into the hot water until it vanished.

When he brought it back, he slipped onto the couch beside you, cradling you in his arms as you drank it all.

“Mmm… I’m so tired,” you mumbled, blinking slow.

“Yeah,” he murmured, taking the empty cup from your hands and setting it on the coffee table. “C’mon then, love. Let me take you to bed. You need rest.”

He scooped you up effortlessly, like you weighed nothing at all, even though your limbs had gone heavy and limp, dead weight in his arms from the sudden exhaustion and dizziness blanketing your body. He carried you down the hall and laid you gently on the bed, pulling the covers up and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You rest, yeah babe?”

You mumbled something, the words slurring with sleep. “Harry, why’s the room spinning?” You chuckled to yourself, half asleep. “… Or maybe it’s me spinning…”

A soft chuckle. Then nothing. Just silence, and your steady breathing as you slept peacefully.

Harry sat beside you for a long time, watching you sleep. He didn’t feel guilty about doing that, you needed the rest, your body needed it to heal properly.

And he needed time too. Time to find the bastard who did this to you, and make him pay.

“I’ll be back before you wake up, love.”

He turned out the bedroom light and closed the door behind him.

The warehouse on the docks had seen worse.

Drug deals gone sideways. Stabbings. Gunfights. Smugglers thrown into the Thames with bricks tied to their feet.

But tonight? Tonight, the warehouse witnessed Harry unleashed like he’d never been before. Cause tonight it was personal.

He stood in the center of the cold, concrete floor, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leather gloves dark and dripping, soaked through at the knuckles. His chest rose and fell in steady, heavy breaths as he stared down at the man strapped to the chair in front of him.

Still twitching. Still bleeding. Still breathing. Barely.

“Now,” Harry said, calm as anything, crouching low until he was level with the man’s ruined face. His voice was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that made men's hair on their necks stand up. “We’re gonna try this again.”

The man whimpered, his broken nose bubbling blood with every inhale, mouth split and leaking. A nasty cut curved above his left eye, still bleeding slow. His shirt clung to his chest in wet and dark red patches. His whole body shook so violently the metal chair scraped against the floor with each tremor.

“I didn’t know she was your wife,” he gasped, voice wet with pain and spit. “I swear, mate—it was Jaime’s orders, I didn’t—”

Harry didn’t blink.

“That’s not the part that fuckin' matters.”

He stood and reached behind him to the table, methodical, like he was choosing a kitchen knife for dinner prep. His fingers closed around a wrench — long, heavy, stained — the kind of weight meant to break things.

He turned it over in his hand, testing the balance. Not rushed. Not angry.

Focused.

“What matters,” he said, almost to himself, “is that you put your hands on her.”

And then he swung the wrench. One clean strike right across the kneecap.

The sound the man made didn’t even sound human, a ragged, raw scream that shot straight to the rafters and echoed through the space like a wounded animal. The kind of scream you hear only in horror films. The kind that lived in your throat long after it was over.

Harry just tilted his head, watching. Waiting.

The man sagged, sobbing. His leg trembled, blood seeping fast.

“I didn’t touch her like that—”

Harry’s voice was low. It was dangerous.

“You touched her at all.” He leaned closer, blood on his gloves now soaking into the knees of his trousers. “You looked at her. Made her flinch.” His lip curled. “Made her scared.”

There was something worse than fury in his face now.

Conviction. Just the steady, righteous burn of a man doing what needed to be done. What any husband would do in his place. What that poor bastard deserved for ever laying a finger on you. This wasn’t about revenge, no, this was about justice. Plain and simple.

“So now I gotta make sure she doesn’t feel that way again. Ever.” He stood again, wrench hanging at his side like dead weight. “And I’m real fuckin’ thorough when I make a point.”

The screams of the man echoed so loud it rattled the rafters. Harry just tilted his head, waiting for it to die down.

“You hurt her. You put your hands around her throat.”

His voice was low now, low enough that you’d have to lean in to hear it, like a secret, like a prayer.

“I saw the bruises. Counted them.” He leaned in closer, lips by the man’s ear. His breath warm but his tone ice. “Six on her arm. Four across her ribs. One on her cheek. Fingers around her neck.”

A pause. A beat of silence where even the man’s sobs quieted in fear.

“I see those bruises every time I close my eyes.”

The man sobbed again. Wet, ugly, begging.

“Please—please—Harry, man— I was just following orders, you know how it is.”

Harry snapped like a switch flipped inside him. He wanted him to suffer threefold for every second he’d made you hurt. Wanted his final moments to be nothing but agony and regret.

“You don’t get to beg.” His voice cut like a blade. “She begged. Didn’t she?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Part of him couldn’t bear to hear it, couldn’t stand the thought of you in pain, begging to be left alone, so he just drove the wrench into the man’s gut — once, twice — again, again — until the chair tipped with a metallic scream and the man collapsed sideways to the floor with a sickening thud.

Harry stood over him. Chest heaving. Gloved hands flexing like he was trying to hold something back and failing.

“I’ve buried men for less, you know that?” His voice was quieter now. Not calmer. Just colder. “But you—oh, mate. You’re special.”

Harry tortured people for a living, he made them talk, killed them afterward if necessary. He’d stopped flinching long ago. But this time felt different. This time it wasn’t because he had to, it wasn’t a job, a duty, a consequence of the life he’d chosen.

This time, he did it because he wanted to. Because some voice deep inside his head told him this was the right thing to do.

And this time… a twisted and sick part of him enjoyed it.

He crouched down again, slow and steady, but his eyes hid something dark behind them.

“You made my wife lie to me.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “You made her flinch at me.” His voice cracked, just a little. “You made her cry.”

He looked down at the man like he wasn’t even a person anymore. Because he barely was. So disfigured, so drenched in blood, he’d lost all trace of a human face.

“She was scared to tell me.” His throat worked. “Scared, after everything I’ve done to protect her.”

The man coughed up blood, sputtering against the floor.

“That’s the worst part,” he whispered. “She thought she was protectin’ me by keepin’ it quiet.”

His nostrils flared as he stood there. Silent. Controlled. But there was a knife in his hand now, those same hands that had held you hours ago gently, reverently, now gripped the blade like an extension of himself, steady and sure and ready to dive into the man’s flesh.

“You broke something in her,” he said. “Something I swore I’d never let anyone touch.”

Then, quieter:

“And now I’m gonna break you.”

⸻

Harry made sure no one would ever find the body.

The house was warm when you woke up.

You blinked into soft golden light pouring through the bedroom curtains and shifted in bed, just barely, against the deep ache in your ribs.

You didn’t exactly remember how you got to bed last night. The last thing you could recall was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, Harry making tea. You probably fell asleep. Yeah, that was it, you must’ve passed out on the couch and Harry had carried you to bed.

You soon realized that you weren’t alone. For once you hadn’t woken up to an empty house.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed beside you, shirt off, hair damp from the shower. You didn’t know he’d been in the bathroom for at least half an hour, getting every last bit of blood off his body. He was watching you with that unreadable look he always wore when he was trying not to scare you. Not to make it worse.

“Mornin’, love,” he murmured. His hand reached for your face, so gently, knuckles brushing down your cheek like you were something fragile he didn’t dare hold too tight.

Your throat felt thick. “What time is it?”

“Half nine. You slept through.” A small pause. “Didn’t wake once.”

“Feels like I’ve slept for ages,” you mumbled, stretching your arms with a yawn.

“Yeah? Had a good night’s rest?” he asked, even though he already knew damn well how deep you’d slept. “You were out like a light, babe. Like a baby—” he grinned, then deepened his voice, “—or more like a bear.” He let out a dramatic, rumbling snore, trying to imitate you.

You laughed, shoving at his arm. “Hey, watch it. I do not snore like that.”

Harry chuckled with you, his smile softening as he looked at you… but then it faltered as his eyes drifted lower, toward your body, towards the bruises.

“I’m fine,” you said, before he could even ask.

“No, love.” He shook his head gently. “You’re not. You’re hurt. And you’ve got every right to not be fine.”

“You really gonna fuss over me like this for the rest of the week?”

“Month,” he said immediately. “Minimum.”

You laughed. It hurt, a little, but it didn’t matter.

“Do I get foot rubs, too?”

His brow arched. “Cheeky.”

“Blanket tucks, foot rubs, sponge baths—”

“Watch it, love.”

You smiled, finally meeting his eyes again. And this time when he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, you didn’t flinch. You melted.

He traced the shell of your ear with his thumb. “I used to think I’d never have something good. Then I got you. And I promised myself, this one thing, this one person, I wouldn’t ruin.”

“You didn’t ruin me.”

“I didn’t protect you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Maybe not. But I should’ve known better.” He bent low, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Just kiss me, Harry.” In this moment, you didn’t want to face his guilt or the weight of what had happened. All you craved was to feel your husband’s warmth, his electric touch against your skin, his lips pressing kisses all over your body as if you were something holy.

He does. He kisses you. Slow. Deep. Tongue sliding between your lips, hand cradling the back of your head like you might break. But you don’t break, the safety of him anchors you down like gravity.

When he lays you back, he takes his time. He pulls your shirt over your head, eyes catching on every bruise, every mark, like he’s memorizing them.

And something broke behind his eyes. A flicker, too quick to catch if you didn’t know him, but you did. You saw it. Felt it. That familiar heat blooming in the space between your bodies, in the tension of his breath, in the way his hips shifted against you. He was getting hard, you could feel him, thick and aching between your thighs, the same hungry need he always had when you were together, resurfacing like instinct.

But layered beneath the arousal was hesitation, the doubt. His eyes dropped to the bruises scattered across your skin, the ones he hadn’t caused but still felt responsible for. You felt his restraint like a wall between you two. He didn’t want to hurt you. Didn’t want to take you when you were already raw and wrecked.

You could see him fighting it. Fighting the urge to fall into you, to bury everything he was feeling inside your cunt, the only place that ever seemed to quiet his mind. And it wasn’t just the thought of causing you more pain he was afraid of, it was what it meant, that someone else had touched you hard enough to leave marks. That you were still here, still choosing him, bruises and all.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

“Harry,” you whispered. “It’s okay. I want this. I want you.”

He gives you the tiniest nod, letting his mouth follow down your body, planting soft kisses to your chest, your ribs, every single part of your body he can reach.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, like something scraped raw, like he was afraid the sound alone might hurt you. “Tell me and I’ll stop right away.”

You nod, your eyes never leaving his. “It’s not too much,” you whisper, the words trembling at the edge of your throat. “Your kisses… your touch… you. That’s all I need right now.”

His hands slip under your thighs, big and warm and deliberate, spreading them slow, reverent, like he’s opening something sacred.

“Let me taste you, babe.” His voice is thick, low and guttural, like it’s dragging up from somewhere deep.

You nod, breath catching, and he sinks to his knees, disappearing between your legs like it’s the only thing in the world that makes sense anymore, like he’s been starving for you, like your body is his only salvation.

His hands clamp around your thighs, rough and possessive, dragging them wider until you’re spread obscenely for him, open, vulnerable, dripping. He holds you there like something sacred and filthy all at once, like a gift only he gets to unwrap.

“Fuck, you're still the most perfect thing I've ever laid my eyes on,” he breathes admiringly, before diving in.

His mouth is on you in a second — hot, wet and starving. Tongue flat and greedy, he parts your folds with practiced ease, like he has done for years, burying himself in your cunt like a man possessed. A low moan rumbles in his chest, vibrating straight through you as he sucks your clit between his lips and into his mouth like he wants to bruise it.

The first flick against the nub makes your whole body jolt. His tongue circles it in tight, perfect strokes, worshipful and devastating, like it’s a holy ritual and he’s been praying for this.

He licks you slow. Deep. Long, deliberate strokes like he’s trying to memorize the taste of your sweet fluids, like your pleasure is the only thing anchoring him to the earth. His tongue slides through your slick with maddening precision, dipping his tongue inside you, curling like he’s trying to coax your orgasm out by force.

He groans against you like he likes the taste of your pleasure. Like every sweet sound you make is one less demon inside his head.

He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t even blink. His tongue is slow, devoted, merciless, dragging from your entrance to your clit with wet, obscene pressure, over and over, until your legs start to shake. It’s like he’s trying to rewrite the memory of every unwanted touch with the soft scrape of his beard, the drag of his lips, the sinful glide of his tongue.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your pussy, lips slick and glistening, thick fingers stroking your thighs like you’re made of porcelain. “Cunt so fuckin’ sweet. So soft. My girl. Mine to protect. Mine to worship.”

Your fingers slide into his hair, twisting hard, because the things he’s doing to you don’t feel real, it’s too good, too intense, too much.

Your hips roll helplessly against his mouth, greedy for more, chasing the unstoppable heat of his tongue with every trembling grind. There’s no rhythm anymore, just need. Desperate, aching need. You’re soaked, thighs slick and trembling, the muscles in your stomach tightening like a drawn bow. You can’t think, can’t speak, you can only breathe his name again and again, broken and full of heat, dragged from somewhere deep and aching inside your body.

“Harry.” It’s a whimper, but also a curse and a prayer you didn’t know you’d been holding in your chest, tumbling out of you like your body doesn’t belong to you anymore, because it belongs to him now.

“That’s it,” Harry murmurs against your cunt, his voice husky and thick, lips brushing your clit with every word. “Give it to me, love. Wanna feel you cum on my tongue.”

Your fingers tighten in his hair, fisting it hard, anchoring yourself to the only thing that feels real, his mouth, his tongue, his filthy worship.

You cum slow — hot and shaking — with a guttural whimper and Harry’s name spilling from your lips like a confession, like it’s the only truth that’s ever existed.

“H-Harry—oh my God—

Your body arches off the bed, thighs clenching around his head, hips stuttering as your climax crashes over you like a wave breaking all your pieces loose.

And when your breath catches, when your whole body spasms under him, muscles locked and fluttering around nothing, he just holds you there, mouth still latched to your dripping cunt, tongue flicking lazily over your clit, dragging out every last tremor until you’re whimpering like it hurts.

Too sensitive. Too full of him. But you can’t stop.

“Fuck, babe,” he groans, “you taste so fuckin’ good when you cum. I'll never get tired of it. I'm gonna put my mouth on you every single day for the rest of our lives.”

He pulls away from your cunt, but not before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your inner thigh. His eyes meet yours, dark and hungry, beard damp and lips swollen from the taste of you.

“Can I be inside you?” he asks, voice wrecked. “Please. Need to feel your cunt around me. Need you to feel me. Let me take it all away.”

You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Yes. Please. Need you too. Need your cock deep in me.”

When you give him permission he fucks you like he’s trying to undo every bruise with his body. Like if he fills you deep enough, slow enough, hard enough, maybe he can erase the hurt someone else left behind.

His thick, massive cock broke you open like it always had, impossible to take but exactly what you needed. He groaned the moment your slick heat swallowed the blunt head of him first, the rest of his inches shortly after as he pressed forward until you were stretched to the limit.

His body is blanketing yours like he’s shielding you from the world, like every thrust is a vow and every kiss is an apology. Every moan from you is proof you’re alive, and you’re his, and you’re not broken beyond repair.

He’s gentle but firm, guiding his cock into you with unbearable slowness, letting you feel every thick, aching inch as he stretches you wide and deep to accommodate him.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes against your mouth, voice strained and reverent. “You feel so warm. Tight as the first time. You've got the most perfect cunt, did you know that? Don’t ever wanna let you go.”

You sobbed into his shoulder, body shaking from the stretch, your nails digging into his back. “Harry—s-so big—”

“I’ll give you everything, yeah? All of it.”

His rhythm is unhurried, deep and possessive, but his hips grind into you with a punishing rhythm, not cruel, but consuming, raw with need, with love, with all the things he doesn’t know how to say with words. Your body arches beneath him, every nerve-ending stretched tight as he slams into you, the fat head of his cock dragging across every tender, sensitive spot inside you like he knows exactly how to wreck you. Because he does.

“Fuck—look at you,” he groans, voice dark and wrecked against your throat. “Taking it so good, babe. You—fuck—you love this cock stretchin’ you wide, fillin’ every fuckin’ inch.

He watches your face, watches the way you gasp and writhe, and the promise in his eyes is loud enough to drown everything else out:

“You’re safe now. You’re mine. You’re proper fuckin’ mine.”

His hands grip your hips, fingers firm but careful enough to avoid hurting you, his broad thumbs trace the edges of your bruises without pressing on them, like even the ghost of your pain makes him want to tear the world apart.

The care in his touch makes your throat tighten, your chest ache, your eyes sting.

You arch under him, slick and shaking, whispering his name again and again, and when you say, “Don’t stop,” it comes out as half-plea, half-command, like you’d die if he let go of you now.

He growls into your skin, lips brushing your ear.

“I’m not stoppin’. Not until you say so. Feels so fuckin’ good inside you.”

His hips slam forward again — deep, heavy — and you cry out, your back arching, your whole body shaking as pleasure swallows everything else.

“Do you like it, babe? You like having this cock fucking you full? Stuffing that little cunt of yours?” he moaned, voice rough, hips snapping harder against you.

“Fuck—I love it, Harry. Keep going.” Your voice broke halfway through, overwhelmed and needy.

“Say it again.”

“I love it—I love your cock, Harry—” you gasped, eyes fluttering. “Feels so good—so fucking deep.”

“Yeah, you do. Can feel your cunt squeezing me, so fuckin’ greedy—like she never learned how to take me.”

He buries himself to the hilt with a groan, cock stretching you full, tight around him, and he rocks into you like he wants to stay there forever, like the feel of your soaked cunt gripping him is the only thing keeping him from unraveling.

“Jesus, fuck—so good,” he grits out, forehead pressed to yours, breath ragged. “You feel like fuckin’ home, babe.”

He kisses your lips, your shoulders, your throat, your cheeks, anywhere the bruises colored your skin, like he’s worshiping the pain away, even while he fucks you like he’s trying to break the bed in half.

He fucks you through every sob, every tremor, every broken little sound. You’ve never felt so held. So taken. So loved.

“I love you,” he says, voice hoarse and breaking, forehead pressed to yours as he keeps pushing into you slow and deep, his cock pulsing inside you. “You hear me? I’d burn the fuckin’ city down for you.”

“I know,” you gasp. “I know, Harry—”

“Mine,” he groans, voice thick and breaking, driving his cock deeper, if it was even possible, one hand coming up to cup your cheek like you’re something fragile. “My wife. My fuckin’ heart. Gonna fuck you until you forget anything else ever existed. Gonna fuck the hurt right out of you.”

You sob his name, clutching his back, nails dragging down his skin in desperate lines, and he groans, low and wrecked, from the sting.

“That’s it, you always take it so good for me,” he hisses through gritted teeth, hips rolling deeper, hitting that spot that makes you see stars, the thick grind of his pelvis dragging across your clit with every brutal, perfect thrust. He’s not giving you a single second to breathe, not letting up, not holding back, and you don’t want him to.

“Cum for me again, love,” he growls, voice dark and low right against your ear. “Let me feel you. Let me feel you soaking this cock while it splits you open.”

And you do. It slams into you without warning, your body locking up, trembling, shattered around him as you cry out, loud and raw and wrecked because of him.

Your cunt tightens around him like a vice, soaking him as you cum hard, legs shaking, back arching. Your voice breaks into a moan so desperate, so ruined, it barely even sounds like you anymore.

“F-Fuck—Harry!”

He doesn’t stop. Not when your body’s still trembling, cunt still fluttering around him like you’re trying to pull him even deeper. He keeps grinding into you, slow and brutal, his cock thick and hard and so deep it feels like he’s carved himself into your body.

"Ohh—gonna fuckin' fill you up, babe,” he whines. “Gonna stuff your little hole so full of me It’s all you’re gonna be feeling for days.”

Harry follows you soon after with a guttural moan that came straight from his chest, slamming into you one last time as his hips jerk and still. His body goes rigid, chest heaving, fingers digging into your thighs like he’s holding on for dear life. He’s cumming hard, hot and thick inside you, the warmth spreading deep in your walls with every pulsing spurt.

“Fuck—fuck, love—” your name tumbles from his lips, tangled in a curse and a prayer, like he’s trying to give you everything he has.

He stays inside you after. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t let go. Just breathes with you, his body wrapped around yours like an armor.

You both lie there, slick with sweat, his chest rising and falling over you, like ocean waves. Your thighs still trembling, his arms locked tight around your waist. His cock is still buried inside you, softening gradually, his cum drips out of your hole where you two are connected, wetting your thighs, staining the sheets, but neither of you move. There’s no rush. No need to.

The silence is warm and heavy with breaths and sweat and safety, it wraps around you like his arms do, strong, unyielding, safe. The only sound is your mingled breathing, your heartbeat slowly syncing with his.

His fngers trace slow, lazy circles against your hips, in reassuring and grounding little motions, showing you his wordless devotion.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly, his voice barely more than a rumble against your skin.

You bury your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of sex and sweat and something undoubtedly him. You press a kiss there — small, shaky, real.

“I feel… good,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. You felt good in a way you didn’t think was possible after what happened, not so soon at least. Good in a way that felt like being rebuilt.

His arm tightens around your waist, pulling you even closer, as if he could tuck you under his skin.

“Good,” he echoes, but his voice breaks a little, like he’s the one who needed to hear it the most. “That’s good.”

You don’t say anything else. You don’t have to.

You just lie there, wrapped in sweat and each other, and a silence that speaks louder than anything, the kind of silence that heals.

A/N: To the person who requested this — thank you so much for your kind words🩷🩷 It means so much to me. I truly hope you enjoy this story just as much as the others, and thank you for your patience, it took me quite some time to get through this fic, but I’m finally content with it.

The fic I’m working on rn is a request I got for a forced marriage with Alfie, so yes… Alfie is coming back soon!!!(probably will have it finished sometime next week)

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

Creepy!yuu and Victim!reader in TWST.

Summary: Okay, from where I left off, the reader had tried unaliving themselves (but guess who got transported the last second they were about to taste freedom?) In short, you and Yuu had gone to TWST not only that but Yuu still played as 'you' and ended up charming them to turn on you, spreading rumors, and making believable stories, horrifyingly enough, they knew how to act and turn the tables on to you. But, since this is non-yandere, they aren't THAT stupid.

...Unless your talking about their affection for Yuu after their overblot (depends)....

A/n: my motivation is so sloppy what the heck, I am going to church tmrw (Sunday) so the asks in my drafts will be postponed a little more (oh god, another preaching thing again....), oh and one more thinggg, I'm ending this part to Pomefiore, my lazy ass can't keep writing anymore my mind is so empty😔😔💔

Tags: @fancyhawk45

Idk, they requested it ig??? I mean like, fics are making me tired so I wanna try imagining with my anons.

How TWST Cast treats you.

Riddle:

Okay, maybe he wouldn't like, turn his whole dorm against you? Listen, he's not sure whether Yuu is telling the truth or not, but he'll make sure to keep an eye on you. A part of him thinks Yuu is strange, with the way they've constantly spoke about you. Don't they dislike you? Why do they keep talking about you so much? Then Yuu says, "They've been following me, forcing me to be with them, so all my entire life I had been constantly surrounded by them. It was an every day routine of mine to talk about them, since they liked that and pestered me into talking about them, and them only. Even going so far as to erase my 'self' so I could act like them a little more..." yeah, some stupid excuse Yuu came up with.

Did he believe it? Quite a bit. Don't get him wrong! He just doesn't know if this is some morbid excuse, until he saw Yuu flinching whenever your around.

He disliked you, but not so much. He has suspicions, but doesn't want to assume. So all he does is sternly scold you, but sometimes his words are so harsh you had assumed he was out to bully you like the rest. If he knew about your situation, he'd be sorry. But for now?

"[Name], Yuu isn't stalking you. You are just paranoid, they are not that kind of person at all. Yuu is a good person with morals, you shouldn't blame Yuu just because you are jealous of their popularity." But you never wanted popularity, you wanted someone to understand the situation you were in.

And most of them wouldn't help. Yuu saw you talking to Riddle... Come, let's talk privately after this, yes?

Trey:

He wouldn't get what was going on at first. When he met Yuu and you for the first time, something in his gut told him something was wrong. He didn't know what exactly. Maybe it was the way you glanced Yuu blankly or the way you looked like you were pleading for something to happen or, pleading for someone?

Either way, he was perceptive. He can say that there is something between the relationship with you and Yuu. It was creepy on how Yuu often looks at you whenever your around. This guy notices that you often avoid others whenever Yuu is around, so maybe he tries to talk to you through private means, and that'll also mean he'll avoid talking about this to Yuu, just in case. He suspects there's more to Yuu's character but from now on, he should be careful with who he speaks with. Yuu seems empty, their eyes, he meant.

But that doesn't mean he wouldn't talk to Yuu anymore. That'd make him suspicious to Yuu, so he'll sneak in a few treats for you every time there's an unbirthday party going on. He would seem like he wouldn't believe you, but trust me, he needs the evidence first before assumptions, and he can't talk to you since you seem afraid of him, and Yuu keeps blocking the way every time he tries.

"What do you mean 'Yuu is stalking you'? I'm sorry, I don't know whether your lying or not, but I'll find a way soon. For now, keep a low profile in front of Yuu, yeah?" Oops, Yuu caught 'you'.

What did they say last time? Guess they'll need to drill it in your head.

Cater:

Listen, as far as I know, especially when it had been shown and stated many times, Cater is perceptive. He hides his emotions well and often covers it with humor. Maybe emotionally depending on the internet as well? (I'm projecting on this part, ignore this) Either way, he's self-aware and he knows creepy vibes when he sees one.

When he first met Yuu, it was subtly obvious to him that something IS wrong with Yuu. The way they talk sounds rehearsed or copied in a way. Mimicry? But he sees the way Yuu acts. It never sits right with him. What for? He doesn't know, but he knows this is a lie. He won't fall for the act and would rather be a bit distant with Yuu, he'd even try to find reader, who is basically now scared shitless of what will happen if they talk to another person again, Yuu tries to convince him to leave Yuu alone, and when he does, Yuu even feeds him lies that he can clearly see through. He doesn't know the relationship you two have but whatever it is, it concerns him. Not much, but enough to feel quite bad for not helping. Sorry, he just doesn't know what to do.

Worse part is, he can't even talk to you without you scurrying off like he's some serial killer! How is he supposed to have any evidence on Yuu if the proof keeps running away??? Sigh, guess he'll come back for you later.

For now, he'll have his eyes and ears on the look out without telling anyone.

Ace:

Okay, for him... Ace isn't the smartest, but not the dumbest either. Humor is coping, and lying effortlessly is one of his many talents, I'm not saying he's lying to Yuu, but more like what he feels. So, at first he never felt suspicious about Yuu, it just felt off when Yuu looks so distant, yet acts so close.

So it was like Ace was talking to a stranger than a friend. Well, not really? Just Yuu feeling distant, to him, at least.

But he can't help but look at you, the person who's constantly behind Yuu's back. What good can you do? You've always ran away, even at the slightest interaction. Why? And you keep glancing at Yuu everytime they talk about your bad deeds while your in the distance. Yes, he noticed you were hiding behind the tree or right around the corners in the hallways whenever Yuu spoke about you. And it's annoying, really. Yuu only ever talks about you, and barely talks about themselves. What is the matter with Yuu and you? Both of you are so weird, to be honest, he wouldn't really be surprised if one of you was a serial killer. Haha! He's joking, but seriously, it is mad concerning that you run away from him whenever he tries to approach you,-

Why was Yuu looking at you like that?

Deuce:

Okay, Deuce isn't really the smartest in the shed, but he's got the spirit? I have not much to say about Deuce except for his confusion. The terror in your eyes reminds him of the times where he was still a delinquent and terrorizing others. Did he do something wrong? Yet, that didn't seem like the case, you've always done that when Yuu is near, and when Yuu isn't around, you'd look around twice to check if Yuu is no where to be seen before talking to him. Hey, why did you bully Yuu before? Did something happen between you two? Yet, when those questions came out of his mouth, you seemed scared in a way, not in a "I've been caught" way, but something more? It was then you quickly left as if sensing someone, not before warning him, "Yuu isn't the person that you see..." before running off, Yuu appears just in time to find Deuce standing akwardly,

What do you mean by that?

Leona:

Do you think he'll give two shits to you??? Nah, at least, not at first. He'd think your some paranoid freak that looks over their shoulders constantly. Yet, he can't help but feel unsettled as well. Whenever he looks or interacts with you, even just a little bit or unintentionally, either you avoid him and run off like a scared prey, or Yuu comes in to interrupt or block him. Seriously, what the fuck is going on with you two? Yuu explains that although you were their bully, you tend to run away from guilt. Leona sets it off and decides to leave you alone, not becaue what Yuu had said, but because it's disturbing. And he wants sleep, so there's that.

It wouldn't make sense in his head, why is Yuu protecting you if you were their bully? He knows there's something off-putting in Yuu's words, something reversed but he doesn't have any proof to say anything about it, nor will he care to lift a finger for it. But one day, he was walking past Ramshackle for whatever reason, and saw both of you talking, not in a pleasant way, though. Your eyes looked petrified and your body was shaking, like some weak prey in the jaws of a predator. Yuu was talking about something, but clearly, it wasn't a good one,

That is, until Yuu's eyes flicker at Leona's.

They close the curtains, Leona is surprised they even saw him.

Will he help? Depends.

Ruggie:

No doubt he couldn't help but feel like he shouldn't trust Yuu, at all. Despite being indebted to them, he felt off when Yuu was around him, it never felt right. It never felt 'them'. But after the overblot? He must say, he is quite impressed with their thinking, it's sharp, too sharp.

So this is where he is now, hanging with Yuu, and keeping a close eye on them. It would've felt right, until he saw you. At first glance he never said anything to you, not ever. But when the octavinelle deal struck in? You look visibly shaken. You didn't want to sleep with Yuu or anybody else. You wanted your own privacy, and the way you've emphasized on wanting privacy, he couldn't help but think that has something to do with Yuu. So he keeps a close eye on them too, because he's not sure what Yuu is capable of. And not like he needs to know about that.

He's concerned, rightfully so. But he doesn't know you and you keep running away. So, how will he help if he isn't a friend or an acquiantence of yours? Not like he'll think like this too much, after all, it's your business, not his.

Did he just fucking saw Yuu smelling your hair while you were asleep in broad daylight? What the fuck...

Jack:

Dilemma going hard fr.

He doesn't know why, but he feels as though, Yuu is lying. But, he won't give in, he thinks of Yuu as a good friend, but whenever Yuu brings up you as the topic to 'vent'. Jack can't help but feel a tinge of jealousy, and also a weird sense that tells him Yuu is wrong.

It's like your best friend tells you that your other best friend is bad and talking shit about you, but the thing is, is that its a close friend so you dont know whether to drop them or just bawl your eyes out and keep them at arms length. Yeah, Jack's dilemma about this btw.

So, whenever he tries to approach you? You just run, for the fear of losing someone again, or... those photos. But, Jack kept on persisting, thing is, Yuu caught on and blocks him, or distracts him whenever he thinks about talking to you.

Was that a knife behind them? He sure hopes not, else he'll apprehend them.

Azul:

He kinda relates to the bullying thing, but he doesn't know that you were the victim and assumes it was Yuu who went through it since they understood him so well. If anything, Yuu was the victim, but he can't help but suspect it as a lie. But since Yuu has so much influence on these people, it is best to stick around until the truth spills over.

He can't get proof without it being shown somewhere in here. So, he'll get Jade and Floyd to be his eyes and ears. He's still a shady business man, after all. But he feels like Yuu has something up their sleeves, like they have something he doesn't know or want to know about.

Whatever Yuu hides, he needs to find out, it's a fair trade, you see? He gets to know you and Yuu, while you and Yuu gets to know him, and sign a contract if things get serious.

Something bothers him, is the fact Yuu had once said something about your... body? Ah, Jade, he wishes that Jade would've said it in a lighter tone, instead of saying it in excruciating detail.

Wait... what the fuck do you mean by the prefect doing that?-

Jade:

I'd say... he knows something about Yuu stalking you. But it is just a gut feeling. He doesn't know the exact things Yuu does, but he does know that Yuu's fascinating behavior is driven with a more obsessive motive.

And all that motive leads to the elusive you. You, who barely been seen talking to anyone but Yuu, despite their claims of a toxic relationship, you seemed more meek than Yuu, is he really sure what Yuu had said was true? Hm. Then again, he never believed it, so it wasn't really a surprise.

He thinks this is amusing, with the fact Yuu uses a facade like any other students would. But that identity alone, something bothers him, is it really a personality Yuu created? Or did it belong to somebody else? What does Yuu gain out of this? What do they want, in order to do this? His bothersome doesn't mean he's off-put, more like a nagging questions are being thrown at him. When he had became Azul's ears and eyes, he had to take every mental note that there was something going on between the two of you.

And to be honest to himself, you do seem cute. A frightened little shrimp. Just as Floyd had said, you do curl up like one! He just thinks your fascinating.

A bit too fascinating than he anticipated, he doesn't know this feeling whenever Yuu blocks him from speaking to you, but even if he did evade Yuu, you would just run away.

Well, this will be an interesting chase.

Floyd:

You can't tell me he isn't smart, well not academically sure, but he can at least read the room (I hope so, my memory is just complete ass atp, helppp), he thinks Yuu is interesting, (hey, so what type of fish is cunning and sly?? I can't make a nickname for Yuu) as well as the scurrying shrimp! You both are so adorable, but obviously, Yuu is faking it while you, are genuine about it. Neh, neh~ is that all your traits? Are you just a scared shrimpy all the time?~ He's not stupid, he knows you wouldn't be scared for no reason.

Which is why, he wants to know more about you. He wants to chase you, and squeeze you. Your interesting, if only you'd stop running. Don't do that! He'll get bored!

Till' he sees Yuu getting reallll close to your space, and you look uncomfortable too.~

He holds his breath until the day the truths spills out.

Kalim:

Okay, he might catch on if the signs were obvious (which, it kinda is) so Kalim will catch up later. And maybe, he'll approach and want to help you, but Yuu, again. Keeps blocking, and honestly? He can't help but feel something that he had never felt before, it wasn't fear. It wasn't anything like that. But, imagine someone pestering you to do something else you clearly don't want to and they still insist.

Yes, that feeling. Annoyance? Maybe. But still, Kalim IS human so he can feel annoyed /gen. And he is most likely trying to evade Yuu so he could talk to you, but you've managed to slip away in the crowds a bit too easily. The people under Yuu's influence are a hassle as well, especially when they block his path to speak with you, akways huddled up or cornering you. He really is worried on what could happen to you.

He really wants to talk to you, but you kept avoiding him, and even begged him not to speak with you.

The threats about your life is getting worse.

What? Hey!- wait, what do you mean by that!?- wait! Come back, please! He really wants to help!

What is Yuu telling you!?

The fact that, he suspects that you're a hostage to Yuu, he doesn't want that to happen.

Trust him, he'll save you with anything he can. Just wait for him, okay? He's not scared of Yuu, he had seen worse.

Jamil:

It is getting disturbing by the day, the fact that Yuu always tends to somehow drag him away from you, it bothers him. Is something the matter with you? No, it couldn't be. He has other things to do, and he shouldn't care about this. But, why does it feel wrong? He knows nothing about you, and he won't do anything about it until he has permission to.

Kalim had taken notice as well, so now he knows how serious it might be in the future.

Clearly, something is going on in Yuu's head, but he surely doesn't want to know, whatever is happening at Ramshackle's.

One night, he decided to drop off some leftovers because he thought you two woukd starve without dinner.

Imagine to his surprise when he saw something he shouldn't. Does he back away? Of course. But he doesn't have his phone. Nor can he tell to anyone since he knows Yuu has more influence on others more than him. Where is this coming from? He hasn't seen this side of Yuu. Or, has Yuu even shown their true colors, yet? Or if they even had any.

He'll help, especially if Kalim is worried about you, he is sure Kalim's request would be about helping you. So he has no say in it.

Did he just see Yuu picturing you from behind? Huh...

Vil:

Okay, so as I've mentioned before, I had hc Vil having stalkers in the past, because you know??? Celebrities' life ain't all that without consequences of being famously known to the world. So, I would say, Vil knows Yuu's strange behavior??? But, let's say, it wasn't clear enough since yk it could be another Rook. But, this one is different, with the way you flinch at loud sounds, especially with the banging noises or fireworks, similar to guns, you'd jump at the sound of it. Why would you, though? Vil doesn't have enough evidence to file a report about Yuu, but especially if Yuu is his 'friend'. Remember, Yuu will always find a way to manipulate things for their own benefit. But Yuu is more cautious around Vil. Yuu isn't completely dumb running around with their mouth filled with bad rumors, since Vil is a well known acter and star, Yuu needs to be careful with how they word things, it needed to be reasonable.

It wouldn't take long before Vil caught on later in their friendship. The reader had been kept hidden for long, long enough to bump into Vil one day, with a menacing stare a celeb could have.

He didn't mean to, of course. He is just curious about you. Not really.

Rook:

Okay, so as you'd expect, he knows something, not all, but something. The thing is, maybe Rook would surpass Yuu's presence detection. So, depending on the scenario you choose, Rook will try to befriend you because your like some hidden star to him.

And actually, I'm not good with hc him but... I feel like he would want to help you without Yuu's knowledge? Like, he hangs around Yuu, sure, but in the background, he's like, giving you company, you know? [It feels like Neige and Vil all over again but in a different scenario...]

It wouldn't be surprising if he knew both Yuu and you were... swapped. Like, you used to be like Yuu and Yuu used to be like you, in a way. Maybe, if he helped you get back to 'yourself' again, you wouldn't feel that empty need to be something once more.

He wants to help, me thinks...

But the thing is, idk how though, so I want you guys to imagine with me 😔🪽.

Epel:

Okay, so his character... uhm, Epel would fall for Yuu, since Yuu is using an identity that doesn't belong to them. More like, they try to fit in as the peoples desired person (which is why I used 'you' for the plot to continue-). To be honest, probably Epel genuinely thinks your the bad person here, since I don't know??? Please for the love of plot my brain is so mushed every time I look at the drafts- anyway, Epel would be like those typical bullies (maybe with Ace if he fell for the tricks as well?)

Sooner or later if he finds the signs, he'll maybe start doubting himself, on who he should trust. If others are doing the same, surely Epel will be in a conflict, not because he doesn't know whether he bullied someone innocent unintentionally, but also was siding with someone much sinister than they appear to be.

And hey, so uhm, is it normal when Yuu sneaks into your room unknowingly?

He thinks he's hallucinating that night, maybe not...

The End.

A/n: hoiii I'm so tired naman... but if any of you have any ideas on how to add more to their emotions and conflicts with their relationship between Yuu and Reader please do so!! I am running out of creative fuel🥹

[imatter2iexist]

@oripoke @bo-beanies I have so many photos and documents.. Ive been telling the truth. But instead of being supportive, you subjected me to neglect, abuse, and torment. The TLDR is that you knowingly, and willingly, abused and controlled a mentally ill person; a close friend of years you *knew* was autistic and wouldnt understand; you stole my assets and safety, traumatized me, then threw me on the streets to die, alone. I was i just this object for you to use, abuse, and then leave for dead on the streets when you were done using me? Like i was garbage? In the beginning, there were days I literally could never put my phone down because I was 24.7 comforting bean. Id have to hide and be quiet in the bottom room, just to talk to Rory on the phone for a few minutes, or bean would get would get wildly upset if they saw. I knew what would happen if I disobeyed, and i was terrified. Id do everything you asked even when you hurt me for it. And yet, when i freak about the extreme trauma you cause me, doubled with my brothers abuse- when i had panic attacks from your abuse, you stole everything and left me for dead. Id have stayed by your side for months until you felt better, and you knew that, but either of you talking to me for 2 minutes was too much effort, no matter how badly i needed it... as much as i communicated this, you just ignored it

I was always there for both of you, even when it radically hurt me. I tried so hard to keep bean happy, for MONTHS, but when it was my turn to need help i was abandoned, hated, tossed away like I was nothing, and mocked for the illness i cant control. "Its your fault for being poor, its your fault for being sick" is what you said to me. Of course i snapped. You have no idea how much pain you put me in, to be starving, to be on the street with an infection, to lose my cat. Everything just got worse. My disorder is not something i can control. After 7 months of hell i was still not a person to you i was just an object or a toy for you to use. Why talk to this thing now, why bother? I was just a pet for you two to keep and torment until you were bored of my messages

The pain was too immense for me to handle, each month it just got worse. It hurt so badly. I cant describe it and i wouldnt wish it on even the most evil soul. It's agony. No human deserves what i had to go through- nobody.  Hard drugs couldnt even make it better. It was both mental and physical hell. Do you know how painful my med increases were, too, but i still did them because thats what you told me to do? I STILL listened and trusted you because i cared. I got therapy, too. And you still treated me like dirt, and im the one that has to pay for it in the hospital, in debt, in isolation and immense pain. Im the one that has to pay for all the suffering that you caused. Then you parade my dead name around, and accuse me of things I did not do. I did horrible things, im not saying i didnt. But you cant admit what you've done at *all*

I did everything you both asked of me even when it was hard, contradicting and confusing. Id never asked either of you for ANYTHING. Not ever. All I asked for was to talk, to help me with this stupid fucking disorder, but after everything I went through and how hard I tried and everything i suffered. Instead of being there, instead of responding to the only thing ive *ever* needed from either of you, you radically hurt me, then left me to die. TWICE

You may not believe this, but i don't. Want. To. Be. Like. This. I didnt choose to have this disorder, i dont choose the attacks that happen, and when i attempt suicide its *NOT* for attention like you scream. You put intentions in my mouth so often; it has nothing to do with your stupid blogs. Its to make. The pain. Stop. Its so immense, the only thing that goes in my head is "stop, make it stop, please make it stop" and i try and escape from my body to make the suffering end. There's no other way to escape your own mind but to die. And drugs, which I've gotten even further sick for abusing, but nothing else fucking helps

You all act like its a choice i made, and that's what you abandoned me for. I cant control my panic attacks. I dont control the disorder i got from my brothers abuse. i dont *WANT* to talk to any of you ever again or even think about you ever again. But that's the thing about mental illness, its crazy because it is, and when I said it wont fucking let me.... i mean IT WONT FUCKING LET ME. Could you ask a schizophrenic person to stop seeing demons?? "Like hey dude,  just stop seeing them. Have you tried just stopping?" I know pea had fun mocking me, and you all had a good laugh, "lmaooo you couldn't even not do it for a single day"- i didnt choose to be like this. I have the meds and I have the therapy. I did what you wanted but you just hurt me again. And again. How cruel is it that bean has panic attacks on the daily and gets comforted for it, and you all did this to me for my very first one. Rory told me he loved me more than hes ever loved anyone, he told me i could always talk to him if i was hurting, he told me it was okay, he reassured me he was there for me and that it was completely okay.Rory, you told me it was okay. You did. Then you disappeared without even saying goodbye. After 7 months of confusion, not understanding whats going on or whats even happening to me, or where ill sleep the next day. Constantly hurt and abused and hungry and infected, mourning everything i lost. You can never give me back my cat, or the opportunities i lost, my trans health care, my savings. You cant undo the immense pain I've felt and you cant reverse the trauma you've caused

Yes, I hurt you too. I did fucked up things, too. But not. And I repeat. Not until after 7 months of this mental and physical torture. I couldnt take it anymore

And I *still* kept trying. I *still* am. BECAUSE THATS WHAT YOU TOLD ME TO DO. My meds are at 220mg and excruciating, therapy is so incredibly confusing, but im still doing it even if i desperately dont want to. But you two can torture me, because you didnt want to talk to me for a few minutes, and explain what I didnt understand. Instead you left me in the dark. While you were both going to *another* con just moments later, and sleeping comfortably, and going to parties and weddings; i was still in the hospital, in incredible pain, for an incredibly long time, from events you directly caused. Do you understand the mental toll that does to a person? I went to hospital to hospital, reaching out, just more and more confused, just more and more hurt.

While im going through all this, as if im not a real human being behind your computer; besides peas ranting the only things i recieved are "man my notifications" "man this sucks" "Yeah I hate it" like im an "it" a toy or a thing. Parading my dead name is a close contender, but its the amount of lies that hurt me the most. I did not ever have any kind of conversation with Rory OR Bean, I did not fake being in a coma for 2 weeks, I was very much fucking out. I've been telling the truth, even when its hard. Why cant you? Im not afraid to tell the truth.Communication and honesty are human things. My attempts have been very real and very painful, I made myself take pictures and I have the fucking discharge papers from every single one, because I've been telling the truth and can PROVE IT. I did so much I didnt want to do. I went through so much I didnt want to. You broke my boundaries and abused me, i gave up so much of myself and my safety and my life for you, and it was okay. But im now the criminal, your boundaries > my life. Your notifications>my human life.

Nobody's reading this, nobody gives a fuck, im never going to hear anything other then "maaaan this is so shitty, we destroyed his life and his mental and his job and his healthcare and we almost killed him with our neglect....but maaan hes really clogging up my notifications and that makes him the most evil, horrible, awful and disgusting person in the world. Let him die so I can get some quiet." And "Urgh omg I cant believe i have to post this". That's all it ever is. That's all its ever going to be. You hide behind an interent wall, pretending not to see the abuse you did to my body, my person, and my life

Grasses in the wind.

[devinescribe]

After School Project

[Damian Wayne x Reader]

So... school age[16] year old Damian is like... the most thirsted over guy in school. And here we have a neurodivergent reader who catches his attention. Before anyone comes for me I'm also neurodivergent:3 so yeah. Also, there's nothing wrong with being neurodivergent or acting differently than other neurodivergent people:3 enjoyyy

Arabic Translations(I'm not fluent google and apple translate helping me😭)

Ya Rayyal : oh man

Min sijak : are you serious?

Yallah : hurry/come on

'ant qublat eazima : you’re a great kisser

Damian Wayne was everything every girl in school wanted. Rich, hot, incredibly strong? Yeah, they were all swooning, head over heels for the young vigilante.

Except for you. I mean… at least you didn’t think you liked him in that way.

You were generally a nervous person, so for your heart to race a bit faster when he was around, or for your cheeks to flush when he spoke to you or complimented your intelligence was normal right? Wasn’t it like… just what happened to everyone?

He was just a guy. What you found more interesting was the subtle competition you two had going with each other in class. Well, he didn't even know about it, but you kept track of how many questions you both answered. He would smirk at you and made it a habit because he knew you two would be the only ones answering questions. It made your heart do flips, and your stomach do somersaults.

He was incredibly smart, which made you sigh in relief when you were paired up with him for the partner project.

You heard some girl behind you whine and whisper about how you didn't deserve to have Damian as your partner. You rolled your eyes, you weren’t great at detecting tone, but you could tell they were actually upset about this. Taking a deep breath and turning around, you were about to respond before Damian stood up, standing by your desk and speaking for you. It made you pout. You could defend yourself.

"Don't act like I'm your fucking boyfriend. At least she's smart and can get through a presentation without giggling every five seconds. Acting ditzy is the stupidest shit... but then again I don't think you're acting."

You blushed and snickered as he defended you. It was kind of nice to not have to defend yourself, even if you were just pouting over it.

The project was a simple poetry project. At least to everyone else it was. You had been published for your poetry before, so this, to you, was not just a small project, but something to have to prove yourself through.

"...Would you like to only work on this in class, study blocks, or after school in a neutral place? Of course you can suggest any other place you'd want to do it or any time, I'm kind open to just about anything-" you blabbered, not looking at Damian, sort of spacing out as you spoke.

He smirked, "How about my place? Alfred can just pick us both up. Y'know, if you're up for it."

You thought about it for a moment. This was less likely to interrupt your daily routine, it was an addition to it, which was easy to schedule around.

Which he had already thought of, which is why he suggested it. He also knew that you burnt out when waiting to meet up, which is why he suggested tonight instead of another day. It was a Friday.

"How long will I be there?" You mumbled aloud to yourself, not really expecting an answer.

"Oh my brothers and dad will not let you leave quickly. And Alfred will not let you leave before he feeds you... might as well stay over. We have plenty of spare rooms," he joked.

You look confused.

"I do not think it is appropriate for me to intrude on your family's home for such a long time. It would also not be appropriate for me to stay in your house overnight as-"

...

He stared, forgetting you took everything too seriously. Yeah, that's right, he noticed. He was a Robin after all! He wouldn't be a good detective if he wasn't observant.

"Hey. I was joking," he said quietly. Not rudely, even if there was a bit of an edge that he usually spoke with.

You blushed and tilted your head down.

"Oh. Um... sorry," you whispered, looking at the paper the teacher had just given out.

"The topic we have to write our poems about... is love?" You said, staring the paper down like you could change the words printed in ink.

"Ya rayyal...Min sijak?" He muttered under his breath in Arabic.

——

After school, you stood about two feet from Damian, personal bubbles were serious, waiting to head to his house after school.

His older brother, Tim, who was about two years older, came over to you both.

"Oh? Dami, bringing home a girl? Oh Dick is gonna love this," the boy snickered, teasing his younger brother.

You stared blankly.

"If you are implying I am going to 'make a pass' at Damian, you are mistaken. And if you are implying he would try something, I'd like to make you aware I refuse to be anywhere that people wouldn't be in the house. We are simply paired for a school project," you said, staring at the space behind Tim, but not at him.

He stared.

"So... no. Not what I was implying but... good to know... and good to know you're autistic."

...

"Tim what the fuck-"

"Game recognizes game. Chill. Still, Dick is gonna love this."

"Don't tell Grayson a word-"

...

"Too late."

——

The ride to the Wayne manor is chaotic as the two boys fight amongst themselves. Cuss words in both English and Arabic fly through the air.

Soon, the limousine pulls into the driveway and you are eager to get the hell out of that car. You stand outside, staring at the huge manor in front of you.

It was beautiful, the windows and architecture giving you a vintage feel, but you could guess the inside probably didn't match the outside.

Tim and Damian are still bickering as Alfred leads you inside, both boys trailing behind.

“The house looks lovely…” you whisper to yourself.

Alfred responds, “Why thank you Miss L/N. I assure you both Master Bruce and I take that compliment in high regard.”

You gave a shy smile, “Call me Y/N please…”

When you walk in, the first thing you notice is a big Doberman on the couch, and two boys, obviously older than you, one by maybe three to five years, and the other by a maybe 6.

"Ohhhh this is so great Dickie, look he really did bring home a girl," laughs the one with a white streak in his hair.

"Oh my god, you're so cute! You have great taste Dami. Not in a weird way y'know. So how'd you meet?" Dick rambles.

"We are not dating."

"Fuck off Grayson."

The phrases are said at the same time, making the three other boys laugh.

"So, what's your name?" Tim asks, suddenly realizing he had never asked through the whole ride, too busy arguing with Damian about what he had said, as Damian sits to pet the dog. His dog.

"Uhm... Y/N..." you mumble, looking down.

"Well, I'm Dick, and that's Jason. We're Dami's older brothers," Dick smiled, obviously very friendly.

"How old are you even?" Jason asked, leaning back, trying to guess. He could not care less, but any time he could tease Damian was a good time.

"16..."

The boys nodded. You felt a little uncomfortable, not because of them, but just the new situation. The dog, who had been laying peacefully with Damian, came over to you, and whined, placing a paw on your leg.

You smile brightly and kneel down, petting the dog.

"Oh wowww... Damian, you... you're letting her just... pet Titus?" Tim teases.

"Shut the hell up."

——

After the chaos, you and Damian sat in the living room working on the project. The project was as follows:

Each student is paired up with one other person. Each student must write their own poem with the topic given to them by the instructor.

After each student has written their poem, they must make on poem together. The poems can be in any style.

You groan and crumple up another piece of paper, throwing it in the recycling.

"You good?" Damian asked, looking up from his blank paper.

You shook your head.

"You struggling with this?"

You nodded.

"You going nonverbal?"

You nodded again.

"Let's go get a snack."

You followed the boy through the hall to the kitchen. He looked through some stuff before realizing, he didn't know what you liked at all. He grabbed the small whiteboard off the fridge, and gave it to you.

"If you're gonna be nonverbal, we still need a way to communicate. This okay with you?" He asked, handing you a new expo marker.

You nodded.

"What do you want as a snack? Or a drink?" He asked, showing you the cabinets and fridge.

You scribbled down for a moment.

'May the I please just have a water. I'm not too hungry. Plus I don't want to take snacks that were not purchased for me if that makes sense.'

Damian scoffed.

"I don't give a damn. Are you hungry, yes or no?" He asked, annoyed.

You began to write more excuses about how you felt bad, when he put a glass of water and a pack of mini Oreos in front of you.

His eyes said 'eat it or perish.'

"Yallah yallah, we got a project to finish," he ushered, taking his own snacks back to the living room.

You followed closely.

"I like when you say things in Arabic."

The sentence was so quiet, he wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't a Robin with a trained ear.

"Thanks..." he mumbled before adding, "Want to tell me why you went nonverbal? Just... like if it's my behavior or something... I can fix it?"

That made you blush. He actually cared about what you thought? He actually wanted to know if he was making you uncomfortable? He wanted to change his behavior if it did? What was this feeling…

You shake your head, sitting with your snack and drink, "Wasn't you. It's the assignment."

He looked at you in confusion.

"You're a great poet what on-"

"But I've never... experienced love... how... do I write about it if I’ve never even been kissed?" you mumbled.

"But all your poems are about love aren't they?" Damian asked, knowing you had shared your poetry in class before.

"Well... yes and no? I... I write about... what I think it would feel like... but I mostly write about how empty hearted I feel knowing I probably won't have my first kiss or anything before 18 like everyone else.... Everyone is falling in love and I'm falling behind..." you explain, looking at him for the first time.

Your e/c eyes meet his emerald eyes, and he's shocked.... In a good way.

"Guess we're falling behind together then," he shrugged, laying across the sofa, his head resting on Titus's back.

"Oh please every girl wants you you don't get it-"

"Every girl except the most interesting and smartest one. She doesn't," he said sighing.

“Okay that’s one person. I’ve never been liked by anyone, any guy I’ve liked never likes me back. No one has ever liked me… maybe they have but just… not like that,” you whispered, looking away.

“Well you’re wrong. You’re looking at him right now,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You tilt your head and look at him, confusion written all over your face.

Suddenly a wicked idea came into Damian's head.

"Well... why don't you fake kiss me? Then you can see what it feels like," Damian said with a sly grin.

"...Fake kissing? How do you fake a kiss?" You question, rolling your eyes. "Plus if it's fake then... it doesn't really get the love aspect in does it? It's just a physical thing that makes-"

You're cut off by a kiss on your lips, your eyes widening.

Although... you don't mind it. You kiss back hesitantly.

Then he pulls away and grins at you like... like that was his plan all along.

" 'Ant qublat eazima,” he mutters.

And now this man, who just so rudely cut your train of thought off (yes that is what you were most upset about) with a kiss, who has been insisting to his brothers he didn’t like you in that way, was blushing.

He had the nerve to blush after that.

“I…you…” you were strapped for words, unable to create a single thought.

“Um… in case that didn’t make it obvious… I like you. You’re pretty, you’re smart… you don’t treat me different because of who I am… and… and I guess you said you also like when I spoke Arabic which is a plus for me in any case-“

And you decided to have your revenge.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, shutting him up. It was quick, more like a peck, but it did shut him up.

“I was wondering what the feelings I had were…” you say with a blush, looking away.

“Well… now we can go back to writing our poetry… and now you have a point of reference… of course you can always ask for more inspiration-“ he smirked.

“Damian Al’Ghul,” you hissed, using his other last name.

He straightened up and nodded wordlessly.

“That was hot… I-i mean yeah Uhuh sorry.”

You sigh softly and shake your head with a smile, “You’re silly, Damian… and it case what I did wasn’t obvious… I like you too…”

[imatter2iexist]

@oripoke @bo-beanies I have so many photos and documents.. Ive been telling the truth. But instead of being supportive, you subjected me to neglect, abuse, and torment. The TLDR is that you knowingly, and willingly, abused and controlled a mentally ill person; a close friend of years you *knew* was autistic and wouldnt understand; you stole my assets and safety, traumatized me, then threw me on the streets to die, alone. I was i just this object for you to use, abuse, and then leave for dead on the streets when you were done using me? Like i was garbage? In the beginning, there were days I literally could never put my phone down because I was 24.7 comforting bean. Id have to hide and be quiet in the bottom room, just to talk to Rory on the phone for a few minutes, or bean would get would get wildly upset if they saw. I knew what would happen if I disobeyed, and i was terrified. Id do everything you asked even when you hurt me for it. And yet, when i freak about the extreme trauma you cause me, doubled with my brothers abuse- when i had panic attacks from your abuse, you stole everything and left me for dead. Id have stayed by your side for months until you felt better, and you knew that, but either of you talking to me for 2 minutes was too much effort, no matter how badly i needed it... as much as i communicated this, you just ignored it

I was always there for both of you, even when it radically hurt me. I tried so hard to keep bean happy, for MONTHS, but when it was my turn to need help i was abandoned, hated, tossed away like I was nothing, and mocked for the illness i cant control. "Its your fault for being poor, its your fault for being sick" is what you said to me. Of course i snapped. You have no idea how much pain you put me in, to be starving, to be on the street with an infection, to lose my cat. Everything just got worse. My disorder is not something i can control. After 7 months of hell i was still not a person to you i was just an object or a toy for you to use. Why talk to this thing now, why bother? I was just a pet for you two to keep and torment until you were bored of my messages

The pain was too immense for me to handle, each month it just got worse. It hurt so badly. I cant describe it and i wouldnt wish it on even the most evil soul. It's agony. No human deserves what i had to go through- nobody.  Hard drugs couldnt even make it better. It was both mental and physical hell. Do you know how painful my med increases were, too, but i still did them because thats what you told me to do? I STILL listened and trusted you because i cared. I got therapy, too. And you still treated me like dirt, and im the one that has to pay for it in the hospital, in debt, in isolation and immense pain. Im the one that has to pay for all the suffering that you caused. Then you parade my dead name around, and accuse me of things I did not do. I did horrible things, im not saying i didnt. But you cant admit what you've done at *all*

I did everything you both asked of me even when it was hard, contradicting and confusing. Id never asked either of you for ANYTHING. Not ever. All I asked for was to talk, to help me with this stupid fucking disorder, but after everything I went through and how hard I tried and everything i suffered. Instead of being there, instead of responding to the only thing ive *ever* needed from either of you, you radically hurt me, then left me to die. TWICE

You may not believe this, but i don't. Want. To. Be. Like. This. I didnt choose to have this disorder, i dont choose the attacks that happen, and when i attempt suicide its *NOT* for attention like you scream. You put intentions in my mouth so often; it has nothing to do with your stupid blogs. Its to make. The pain. Stop. Its so immense, the only thing that goes in my head is "stop, make it stop, please make it stop" and i try and escape from my body to make the suffering end. There's no other way to escape your own mind but to die. And drugs, which I've gotten even further sick for abusing, but nothing else fucking helps

You all act like its a choice i made, and that's what you abandoned me for. I cant control my panic attacks. I dont control the disorder i got from my brothers abuse. i dont *WANT* to talk to any of you ever again or even think about you ever again. But that's the thing about mental illness, its crazy because it is, and when I said it wont fucking let me.... i mean IT WONT FUCKING LET ME. Could you ask a schizophrenic person to stop seeing demons?? "Like hey dude,  just stop seeing them. Have you tried just stopping?" I know pea had fun mocking me, and you all had a good laugh, "lmaooo you couldn't even not do it for a single day"- i didnt choose to be like this. I have the meds and I have the therapy. I did what you wanted but you just hurt me again. And again. How cruel is it that bean has panic attacks on the daily and gets comforted for it, and you all did this to me for my very first one. Rory told me he loved me more than hes ever loved anyone, he told me i could always talk to him if i was hurting, he told me it was okay, he reassured me he was there for me and that it was completely okay.Rory, you told me it was okay. You did. Then you disappeared without even saying goodbye. After 7 months of confusion, not understanding whats going on or whats even happening to me, or where ill sleep the next day. Constantly hurt and abused and hungry and infected, mourning everything i lost. You can never give me back my cat, or the opportunities i lost, my trans health care, my savings. You cant undo the immense pain I've felt and you cant reverse the trauma you've caused

Yes, I hurt you too. I did fucked up things, too. But not. And I repeat. Not until after 7 months of this mental and physical torture. I couldnt take it anymore

And I *still* kept trying. I *still* am. BECAUSE THATS WHAT YOU TOLD ME TO DO. My meds are at 220mg and excruciating, therapy is so incredibly confusing, but im still doing it even if i desperately dont want to. But you two can torture me, because you didnt want to talk to me for a few minutes, and explain what I didnt understand. Instead you left me in the dark. While you were both going to *another* con just moments later, and sleeping comfortably, and going to parties and weddings; i was still in the hospital, in incredible pain, for an incredibly long time, from events you directly caused. Do you understand the mental toll that does to a person? I went to hospital to hospital, reaching out, just more and more confused, just more and more hurt.

While im going through all this, as if im not a real human being behind your computer; besides peas ranting the only things i recieved are "man my notifications" "man this sucks" "Yeah I hate it" like im an "it" a toy or a thing. Parading my dead name is a close contender, but its the amount of lies that hurt me the most. I did not ever have any kind of conversation with Rory OR Bean, I did not fake being in a coma for 2 weeks, I was very much fucking out. I've been telling the truth, even when its hard. Why cant you? Im not afraid to tell the truth.Communication and honesty are human things. My attempts have been very real and very painful, I made myself take pictures and I have the fucking discharge papers from every single one, because I've been telling the truth and can PROVE IT. I did so much I didnt want to do. I went through so much I didnt want to. You broke my boundaries and abused me, i gave up so much of myself and my safety and my life for you, and it was okay. But im now the criminal, your boundaries > my life. Your notifications>my human life.

Nobody's reading this, nobody gives a fuck, im never going to hear anything other then "maaaan this is so shitty, we destroyed his life and his mental and his job and his healthcare and we almost killed him with our neglect....but maaan hes really clogging up my notifications and that makes him the most evil, horrible, awful and disgusting person in the world. Let him die so I can get some quiet." And "Urgh omg I cant believe i have to post this". That's all it ever is. That's all its ever going to be. You hide behind an interent wall, pretending not to see the abuse you did to my body, my person, and my life

[violettesorrows]

A Rat Among Birds and Bats (Part Two)

Description: (Yandere! Batfam x Depressed! Reader) You tried to live life normally after your encounter with a certain hero last week, but now one of your classmates can't seem to leave you alone (2.2k words)

Warnings: general yandere behavior, implied stalking, really brief mention of being held at gunpoint, mentions of depression/anxiety and its symptoms this one is very tim drake heavy but the rest of batfam is coming i promise

part one || part two || part three

The next few weeks felt normal. Or at least, as normal as they could be in one of the most crime-ridden cities in America. Like clockwork, you went to class, then went to work, then went home to do schoolwork and maybe sleep for a few hours before you repeated the cycle all over again. The only real thing out of the ordinary that happened to you was one of the other students in your class approaching you after the day’s lecture.

He had stark black hair, blue eyes, and dressed like he would describe his family’s economic status as ‘comfortable’. He was currently talking to you about how difficult the coursework for this class could be, and how you and he should probably form a study group or something. Which was weird, because like this is the first time you’ve ever talked to him. You think his name was Jim or Tim or something? You honestly didn’t even know if he was taking this class. You didn’t know a soul in here. A person could hold a gun to your head, and you probably couldn’t name or place two people in here other than your professor.

You blinked, having zoned out while the guy in your class just kept yapping. You’re pretty sure it’s been a solid few minutes without you saying a single word, and he was still going.

“So, what do you think?”

You honestly had no idea what he was talking about anymore. You’d blocked out his chattering like at least five minutes ago. But instead of coming off as a complete ass and telling him that, you just noncommittally and vaguely agreed to whatever he was talking about. Hopefully, it wasn’t too obvious you really didn’t care.

Tim -you were sure his name was Tim now- only smiled in response. “Great! Let’s exchange contact information.”

The color drained from your face. What the hell had you just agreed to? Was he a scientologist or like a member of some other cult trying to recruit you? Regardless of your hesitations, your social anxiety made it near impossible to say no. Other people were watching. The two of you had the same class. If you made it a point to be vehemently anti-social, things would be weird, people would find you weird. 

And that’s how you ended up with a new contact labelled “Tim” in your phone that day.

---

Tim texted you pretty frequently. At first, you were reluctant. You figured he was just a pretty, rich boy who saw you as another charity case, something he could fix. He would ask you how you were, how your day was, how you slept, if you’ve eaten. The kind of normal, mundane things good friends would ask each other. Of course, you couldn’t be entirely honest with him, not without raising some major red flags. The last thing you wanted was to be put in an involuntary psychiatric hold. Or worse, getting too close to someone and getting burned in the process. 

  Some days, you were happy that someone took the time to check in with you. It made you feel like someone genuinely cared for you. Other days, you were annoyed. You didn’t want anyone to care for you. Life was just easier that way sometimes. Before you knew it, though, Tim and you were regularly meeting in person. He’d just managed to worm his way into your life. It started with him offering to buy you coffee after class and then just… kind of went from there. Before then, the two of you started hanging out regularly at least once a week like you were normal friends. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to end your newly found friendship, nor were you certain you could keep up the facade for much longer. Having a friend was exhausting since you were careful about what you said or did, afraid that he’d see you for what you were if you didn’t. You also tried your hardest not to talk about your homelife or financial situation. You doubted he would understand it anyway. That being said, you really were starting to warm up to him. After isolating yourself for so long, you had to admit that it felt…nice … to have some genuine human connection.

You didn’t even notice when some of your things had started to go missing. A pencil you swear you had put in your bag, a hair tie you could have sworn was on your wrist, an eraser or paper clip or a loose leaf paper with one of your doodles on it. But you were very obviously depressed, and depressed people tended to be forgetful, so you didn’t bat an eye at it. You probably misplaced all those things anyway

One day, Tim asked if he could come over to watch a movie at your place. He really wanted to watch one of the newer movies that had just come out. Thinking about the abysmal state of your apartment, you said no a little too hastily. He then proceeded to invite you over to his place. You sucked in a breath. You weren’t sure if you could make it, you probably had work.

“Then just take the day off or something. Call in sick,” He said a-matter-of-factly.

You balked at him, not expecting him to understand. You couldn’t just ditch work for the day to hang out with him. It’s not like you had a job for fun or as a hobby, you had bills to pay. And sick or not, if you didn’t go to work, you wouldn’t get paid for the day, and that could be the difference between your lights or your gas being turned off. 

Still, you couldn’t blame him. You purposefully avoided talking about your personal life for this very reason. The two of you lived on completely different planets. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” You said with a strained smile. As soon as you thought he wasn’t looking, your smile dropped. Your gaze looked downcast as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone. Little did you know, he was always looking. And the two of you were going to see that movie this weekend, he would make sure of it.

---

You showed up to your shift on time, despite almost missing the bus. This morning you had been scrambling to not get to work late this morning, but as it turned out all your efforts were in vain. Your workplace was closed, surrounded by police tape and sirens. Your manager was standing outside, talking to a police officer before his gaze finally caught on you. 

“What are you doing here? Didn’t you get my text? Place’s closed. Turns out the owner was involved in some sort of drug bust or crime ring,” Your manager shrugged, like he was just delivering the weather for today. Things like this just tended to happen in Gotham. “I’m not sure about the details.”

You couldn’t help but think the worst. Does this mean you’re fired? How would you pay rent? Feed yourself? You struggled to find your voice as it felt like the whole world was spinning. “What about work?” You asked with a slight crack in your voice.

Your manager only shrugged his shoulders again. “I’m not sure, kid. Things might clear up in a week or maybe those doors will stay closed forever. That’s how the cookie crumbles in this city sometimes.”

His gaze was almost pitiful as he looked down at you. “Either way, it’s best to get yourself home, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” You muttered as you pulled your jacket closer to your frame and stalked off. You needed a moment to think.

Next thing you knew, you were kicking an empty coke can a couple of streets down the way. Your luck was so great. First, you were held at gunpoint and now this. The next bus wasn’t coming for at least another hour, and of course you didn’t have enough money for a cab. So you were stuck here in Lower Gotham, on a side of the city that wasn’t safe even during the day. You had to figure out what to do and fast. You couldn’t just stand around like a sitting duck.

You unlocked your phone, your finger hovering over a certain contact. You didn’t want to bother him, make your problems his problems, but you were really in a bind. Maybe, just maybe, just this once you could ask for help. Before you could ruminate about it anymore you pressed the call button. The phone rang and you tensed. What if he didn’t pick up? What if he was busy? What if he couldn’t be bothered with-

“Hello?” Tim’s voice answered. 

You felt like your heart was going to stop. You weren’t sure what to say, where to start. So instead you just echoed back his greeting. “Hello…” You said weaker than you would’ve liked.

“Hi,” he said again. He paused for a minute, pensive. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh…how’d you guess?” You said dryly with a forced chuckle. 

“Well, for starters, you rarely ever call me.”

“Sorry.” You said, a knee jerk reaction. 

“No! No! It’s fine, I’m sorry! You should call more often” He said, scrambling as if he’d said something wrong. You almost told him he had nothing to apologize over before he cut you off. “Just… just tell me what’s wrong. We’ll start from there.”

You held back tears. Everything, you thought, Everything is wrong. Instead, you got straight to the point. You took a deep breath, hoping to steel yourself.  “I’m kind of…stranded, I need a ride. Please. If you’re not busy.”

“A ride? Sure. Where are you? Actually- nevermind, just text me your location, I’ll be there in twenty.” Tim hung up shortly after, not even giving you time to explain yourself.

You first thought that maybe Tim was a good friend after all. He was coming to pick you up without even asking how you ended up in this situation in the first place. He had just dropped everything to go help a friend in need. What a nice guy, you thought, maybe you could trust him just a little bit. You know, with small stuff.

As promised, a car rolled up to pick you up with Tim in the driver’s seat. You were a little surprised, he wasn’t supposed to be here for another ten minutes.You shook off the feeling quickly, maybe traffic was light, maybe he was just on this side of town. 

He opened your car door from the driver’s seat, a charismatic smile on his face. “Get in, loser, we’re going shopping.”

You sat down in the passenger’s seat before buckling yourself up. “Shopping?” You asked with a quizzical expression. Please, no. The last thing you wanted was to look at things you couldn’t afford. 

“It’s a reference? Mean Girls? No?” Tim sighed. “Okay, forget about it. Dumb joke.”

“Sorry.” You chuckled awkwardly, blushing a little out of embarrassment. You should have gotten the reference. He had taken time out of your day, the least you could do is laugh at his lame jokes. 

His arm went behind your headrest as he backed up the car. “Don’t worry about it. Anyways, where to? I could bring you home or we could go watch that movie you were talking about earlier.”

Actually, he was the one who mentioned wanting to go to the movies. You didn’t mention it though, thinking it too inconsequential to bring up. “Uh, a movie sounds nice, I guess?”

“Great!” Tim practically beamed. “Sooo, we could go to a movie theater or my place? Whatever you’re more comfortable with, of course, it’s your choice-”

He was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. Tim ignored it in favor of continuing his train of thought. “As I was saying we could either go to-”

His phone beeped, the notifications going off left and right. He groaned exasperatedly. “One moment, I gotta reply to this.”

You couldn’t see who or what he was texting. Tim was careful to tilt his phone screen just out of view. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t trust you or if it was just the sheer force of habit. You didn’t really care. His business was his business. If he wanted to share he would, it wasn’t your palace to go prying.

A few moments of silence passed before Tim finally spoke again. He put his phone away in his pocket. “Sorry about that, it’s just my brother. Something’s going on at the family home and.. well… there’s no other way to ask you this, do you mind if I make a quick pit stop? I just need to take care of something real quick.”

Honestly, Tim was doing you such a huge favor, you didn’t care if he had a million errands to run. In your book, you owe him one. So, you didn’t think much about agreeing to stop by his family home for a quick second. If only you could have known what the future holds. If only you could see Tim’s blank gaze as he locked the car door and drove off.