#could use more editing but i'm tired and posting anyway
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#emily prentiss#criminal minds#cmedit#cm webweaving#web weaving#penelope garcia#jennifer jareau#david rossi#S2#S3#S4#S7#mine#my edit#kt edits#she's a sad girl#my first attempt at something like this? idk#could use more editing but i'm tired and posting anyway#i saw this quote and thought of her <3
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Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youuuuuuuu
Hello, Tumblr.
If you joined us before November 2022 and predominantly post on web, you will be familiar with the two post editors—the legacy editor and the “new” web editor (formerly known as the “Beta editor”).
Beginning May 15, we’ll gradually be working to remove the legacy editor as an option for creating new posts. New posts created on web will be created in the new web editor. We hope to complete this change by July 15.
This change only affects accounts created before November 2022. Newer accounts already default to the new web editor.
This will not affect posting on the apps because we switched to this new editor on the apps about four years ago. If you use the apps, you’ve been using the new editor all this time!
This will not affect what you can include in a post, only how you get there: You can still include all the different types of media in a post, only now, you’ll do that via the new web editor’s content blocks instead of selecting a post type from the post type bar at the top of your dash. So, if you’re halfway through a text post, and you decide that what this post really needs is your pet reptile, then click on the little red image icon in the post editor, select an image, and voilà. Lizard boy steals our hearts.
If you still prefer to post on web using the legacy editor, please keep reading because the rest of this post is for you.
How can you prepare for this change?
Once we have completed this update, you won’t be able to create posts using the legacy editor. You will be able to edit posts made using the legacy editor, at least for now.
Start using the new web editor ahead of the switch. This will help you help us troubleshoot any issues you might encounter. It’ll also mean you’ll already know the ropes before the switch is final.
Talk to us. Send us feedback. Especially if you’re switching from legacy to the new web editor. We want to hear about your experience: Are there any specific workflows or features in legacy that you want to see in the new editor?
If you use a theme, make sure to check whether it supports posts made using the new web editor, and update it if that’s not the case.
For those of you trimming reblogs: @rpschtuff has created an incredibly detailed master post that gets into the nitty gritty of that practice in the new web editor.
XKitters: XKit Rewritten was explicitly designed with the new web experience in mind. This means that you will need to use XKit Rewritten when creating posts in the new web editor.
That’s all for now. Remember, you can always get in touch with us. If it’s regarding the new web editor, then Support is the place for you. If it’s about something else, @wip is your guy.
#The things I dislike about the beta editor are things y'all have already refused to change about it#no matter how much feedback I send it's not going to get me unlimited inline images#or the option to edit in raw HTML when I want a little more control over the format#or the FUCKING readmore to be a button I can choose inline rather than something I have to look up the magic fucking code to type in...#... every GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING TIME I need to FUCKING use it#I can't see my tags in full after I add them to spell check them#Nor can I drag them around in the order - if the first one is wrong I have to delete them ALL and retype#there is even an arbitrary limit on the number of text blocks you're allowed to have in a beta editor post#and while it's not something which typically gets in the way for the kind of posts I make#if you write very long posts like fanfiction or posts with a lot of carriage returns like poetry it's coming for your ass#Tumblr staff however does not give a fuck about limiting the functionality of the website as long as it makes their jobs easier#they don't give a fuck about permabanning someone from the website who did nothing against TOS#just insulted one of them#as long as it makes their jobs easier#they're awful petty people and every ''update'' they make makes me more and more tired#I'm only still here because all my friends are#also#I wonder what random shit this update is gonna break. Stupid things go wrong around here all the time as it is - e.g. image size glitch#which is STILL AFFECTING ME btw#I wonder how many fucking load bearing coconuts there are in the legacy editor code and what exactly removing them is going to ruin#not to mention the things we KNOW will eventually break like your ability to edit posts on your own fucking blog if they're old#because who cares about backwards compatibility right? no one from 2012 could possibly still be using this website#and they certainly couldn't ever discover errors in their old posts or want to update them because their beliefs or opinions have changed#nobody cool experiences ''personal growth'' over the course of a decade that's for suckers#<- actual gymternet users opinion tbh#anyway I'm done ranting for the moment but fuck you and fuck this.
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Happy together.
Officer!Ellieㄨ fem reader
a/n: i honestly don't know how to feel about this but it took me ages to write so i'm going to post it anyway. also enjoy the trashy lil pic i edited of my wife😌// @sapphichotmess is gonna get soapy boobies pics for proofreading this. i love you you're amazing.
cw/wc: 17k ! murders/violence, mention of blood (I don't think it's that bad but if you're sensitive to this type of stuff just scroll), officer!ellie x waitress!reader, (tw) Eminem, smut, breeding kink, handcuffs😔, strap-on sex (r!receiving), thigh riding (e!receiving), use of pet names like (mama, princess, babe etc), and uhhh that's it i believe?? lmk if i missed something.
daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.
The Police Station – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.
The auburnette released a heavy, exaggerated sigh, her weariness palpable as she delicately brushed the rough, calloused palms of her hands against her fatigued face, a few stray strands of hair cascading gently across her features, capturing the attention of her colleague. His eyes lifted towards his friend, a concerned furrow appearing on his face as he took in the haunting purple shadows under her eyes, a poignant reflection of her exhaustion.
"You look like shit, man," He suddenly exclaimed, the tips of his fingers dancing on the smooth plastic caps of his laptop.
"Awh, thanks, that's so sweet," She reclined in her office chair, the weight of the day's paperwork momentarily forgotten. It felt as though she had been sitting there for an eternity, each and every cell of her body yearning and longing for her wife. With her shift drawing to a close, she could hardly contain her anticipation of returning home to you, just so that she could feel the warmth of your embrace and perhaps resume the intimate and passionate encounters you had shared last night.
The boy leaned back in his chair, and a smug smirk spread across his face. "You look like you haven't slept," His gaze shifted back to his friend, who was sitting at her desk across the room, her eyes tired and her shoulders slumped.
"'Cause I haven't," she uttered, shaking her head. A light, airy puff of air escaped her chapped lips as her fingers danced through her locks, coaxing burnished stray strands away from her face.
"How are things going with your girl?" He gave her a questioning look, as if silently asking what was going on. It struck him that she hadn't complained about her marriage in a while.
Her response was a mere nod as she admitted, "Pretty good, actually." However, her gaze remained unfocused, her mind elsewhere as she replayed the previous night's memories in her head. Your moans echoed in her ears while the image of your ecstatic expressions played on repeat, like a broken video tape stuck on a single scene.
"Really?"
He was the one she trusted wholeheartedly. In the darkest hours of her marital struggles, she sought refuge in Jesse's ever-present presence. Hours would slip away as she poured out her heart to him until the early light of dawn or until their shift was over. Yet, he never seemed to mind 'cause his friends' problems were his problems.
After a great four years together, where you and she shared an uncanny kinship and complemented each other like two puzzle pieces, things took a gradual turn for the worse. Heated arguments began to erupt frequently, fueled by petty disagreements about insignificant matters such as the shoes left by the door, piles of unwashed dishes on the living room coffee table, or the kitchen table. Over time, both of you grew tired of this never-ending cycle of conflict.
Dr. Diaz was remarkable in his ability to guide both of you in honing your communication skills and learning how to make each other feel truly heard. It felt like a fresh start with someone you already knew so well and had shared countless memories with. Initially, walking out of your first session was an uncomfortable experience, leaving you feeling almost overly exposed, as if you had revealed too much. The ride back home was filled with an awkward silence that was unfamiliar, never in your life you felt awkward around her, not even once. A few small sighs escaped occasionally, both of you remaining silent until you finally returned home.
"Yeah."
His warm smile spoke volumes as he offered reassuring words to her, "Told you it was just a matter of time. Dina and I have been through it, too, before."
She sat comfortably in her weathered chair, leaning back slightly as she pushed herself away from her sturdy wooden desk. "Speaking of Dina, how's she holdin’ up?" her mind suddenly shifted to a very pregnant Dina who was already eight months along and was about to explode at any second.
The raven-haired man imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders "Y'know, pregnancy hormones—what the doctor said."
She let out a soft snort, a half-smile gracing her lips. "Have you settled on the names?" she inquired.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "We keep fighting over it," he admitted, "She wants to name him-" before he could finish his sentence, an announcement echoing through the hallway of the department caught Ellie's and his attention simultaneously. They stood up abruptly, exchanging concerned glances and rushed out of the small room with a sense of urgency.
"A 140, where?" Ellie's voice quivered, her heart hoping against hope that she had misheard the news. Worry painted itself across her freckled face, etching lines of concern amidst the constellation of her pretty freckles.
It couldn't be. No, it couldn't.
Color drained from her face, and she grew paler than the moon, the realization hitting her like a sudden storm. It was the same diner where you worked, and worry consumed her like a relentless tide.
They made their way towards Jesse's car with lightning speed, both fully aware that Ellie was in no condition to get behind the wheel. She urged Jesse to drive faster, her heart thudding like crazy in her ribcage. She tried to call you countless times, but you never answered. Her palms turned clammy, her hands trembling like fragile leaves in the wind.
"Fuckin' hurry up." The car swerved erratically, anxiety emanating from every pore of her skin. Her voice grew louder and more forceful as she shouted at Jesse, who held the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"We’re gonna crash if we go any faster than this," he raised his voice back at her, feeling all the pressure and tension of the world on his shoulders, but at the same time, he couldn't blame her.
The Diner – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.
As they reached the crime scene, her eyes were immediately drawn to the stark sight of yellow tape cordoning off the area. The tape fluttered gently in the breeze, creating an almost surreal barrier. Beyond it, the solemn figures of police officers moved with purpose, their expressions a mix of determination and concern.
A lone officer stood at the forefront, diligently jotting down notes, while another leaned in to share crucial details about the tragic event. Their hushed conversations hinted at the weight of the situation as they sought to unravel the enigma of the killer's intentions. "I've never seen anything like this 'round here before. The killer must have acted out of rage or passion. There must be a reason," The freckled girl strained to hear the officers' hushed conversation, her stomach sinking with each word.
As she moved closer, they swiftly barred her way. The scene unfolded like a haunting painting—the diner's floor marked by crimson footsteps. She couldn't tell if it was the officer's grim descriptions or the frigid night air that sent shivers down her spine.
"Williams, they are already taking care of it, just wait here and-"
"No, no, no, listen—I have to go in there. My wife works here." She desperately attempted to push through the two middle-aged men, but they held her back with ease. Her voice quivered with fear as she begged to reach you. Were you harmed? Were you in pain? Were you...alive?
Her face was like a canvas of worry, etched with lines of concern. With a graceful shrug, she brushed off the unwelcome hands on her shoulders, "Who's the victim?" she feared what the answer to her question would be, but she needed to know. Her brows were furrowed with worry as she waited for a response, her eyes brimming with fear. "Pleaseplease���Tell me it's not her." She pleaded with such desperation and worry on your behalf that the two men couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. They saw the depth of her love and concern for you, and what touched them the most was that they knew you.
Every day, you would lovingly pack a lunch, a sweet treat, or even a hearty dinner to bring to her at work. Your kindness shone through like a warm beam of sunlight, always in a cheerful mood with a genuine smile on your face as you chatted with her colleagues, asking them about their day and thanking them for their service before returning to your routine.
Ellie stood before the men, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. One of the men heaved a deep, mournful sigh that echoed in the stillness, and he shook his head gravely, his lips drawn into a tight, sorrowful frown.
"Your wife is currently being interrogated as she was present when the murder occurred," Officer Johnson explained to the younger girl, his voice low and measured. She let out a long sigh of relief as his words reached her ears, finally being able to remove the image of you lying in a pool of blood from her mind.
While she felt guilty about it, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that it wasn't you the one who had been brutally murdered. It was a twisted and sick feeling, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders even though a girl had been brutally murdered. She was grateful that you were still alive, safe, and healthy, at least as far as she knew. She longed to be there for her wife, to wrap her arms around you and hold you tight. She wanted to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be okay, even though she wasn't entirely sure herself.
"Please, I need to see her." She kept pleading and pleading until her colleagues finally relented and let her slip past the bright plastic tape. She raced into the diner and quickly scanned the scene. Blood stained the floor, and the door to the back room was left wide open. Blood was pooled on the floor, with a corpse lying beneath a white sheet. Vanessa Harding was now a lifeless corpse. As Ellie surveyed the carnage, her heart ached at the sight of you sobbing on the retro sofa as an investigator tried to coax answers out of you. But you seemed completely lost in your own world, clearly shaken.
The sound of her voice calling out your name as she approached you with a mix of eagerness and concern seemed to blend with the rest of the background chatter as you found yourself unable to shake off your daze. Her trembling hands found their place on your shoulders, gently pushing the agent who was interrogating you aside. A glimpse of concern crossed her eyes as she took in the blood stains on your once-blue waitress uniform. Her heart ached at the sight of you. She hesitated, fighting the urge to pull you into a comforting hug, knowing that maintaining some distance was best in such moments. What mattered was that you were okay, healthy, at least.
The investigator began to speak, but Ellie quickly turned her head towards him, fixing him with a death glare. Her body stiffened as she shielded you from his view. "Can't you see she's having a full-on mental breakdown? We're not supposed to interrogate people in this state," she stated firmly, her voice cold and harsh.
The officer took a step back, sighing in frustration. "I'll be back in a minute." He announced, and with that, he left the room, leaving the two of you alone beside a few medical examiners and other colleagues doing their job, the light chatting becoming a white noise for the both of you.
You sat there, absentmindedly consumed by your thoughts, when a melodic voice penetrated your haze. You lifted your gaze to find a concerned Ellie standing before you, her presence initially unnoticed. Despite her ongoing comforting words, you were too engrossed in your own thoughts to truly register her. It wasn't until she drew a chair and sat right in front of you that your focus shifted completely. When your vacant eyes now met hers, you broke down again.
Your voice quivered as you whispered, "E-ellie..." as tears streamed down your face and your bottom lip trembled. You felt a sudden wave of relief as her hands gently cupped your face, and her thumb caressed your cheekbone.
Her comforting voice soothed your soul as she whispered, "I was so worried, baby. I'm here now, ‘m here." You cried harder, but this time, it was tears of gratitude and love. Her presence made you feel like nothing could hurt you anymore because she was there. You felt safe in her embrace like everything was going to be okay.
"I was getting off my- and she… she... I tried, I really tried-" Your words were tangled and muttered, barely above a whisper. You shook profusely, completely consumed by the traumatic event that had just unfolded. Ellie could sense the terror and dread in your voice, and she swiftly drew you closer, encircling you in a comforting embrace. She held you tight, her palm soothingly stroking your head, creating a soothing effect that gradually calmed your trembling. She whispered gentle words of reassurance in your ear, imploring you to calm down and promising safety. Her voice was a soothing balm, its effect helping to assuage your rattled nerves. It was all you needed, she was all you needed.
It was as if she had an uncanny knack for dispelling your fears and nerves "Shhhshh" She quieted you gently, her words evoking a profound sense of gratitude within you for having someone so attuned to your emotions in your life. "You're safe, you're safe." As she drew back, she slipped off her jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were warm and at ease, hoping to stop your turmoil. "S'okay…I gotchu." She continued to softly whisper reassurances in your ear, soothing your worries away with the knowledge that everything would turn out alright. In that instant, the entire world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in the present moment.
After a few moments had passed, you had noticeably calmed down, prompting Ellie to allow the officer who had been interrogating you earlier to resume his task. She stood closely beside him as he launched into a string of questions, his pen scrawling diligently on his notebook.
"So you got off your shift, you returned to retrieve your keys, and found her dead, is that correct?" The old man recapitulated your statement, his gaze shifting between your barely exposed uniform beneath your wife's jacket and the bloodstains marking your clothing. He further inquired, "And you slipped on the blood?" His eyes remained fixated on the bloodstains that adorned your uniform, while your gaze remained locked on the bloodied footprints on the floor, you responded with a small shake of your head.
"I was kneeling in the blood, trying to bring her back, but there was no heartbeat. I freaked out. I wanted to do something, anything, but she was already gone"
"Any additional details that you recall?" he questioned, his eyebrows arching inquisitively in your direction.
"There was a..." In a feeble voice, you began to reply, only for it to falter and crack. You cleared your throat, attempting to regain your composure before speaking in a firmer tone, "There was a man." You sniffed, looking up at him with a frown tugging at the corners of your lips "He had his hood up, so I couldn't see his face. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, and he looked to be about 5'7," You strained to extract every possible detail, and he diligently recorded them in quick succession.
The only sound filling the crowded diner was the scratching of his pen against the paper, while the ambient chatter of the other patrons added a surreal yet comforting hum in the background. The scene felt utterly unreal, like some messed up vivid dream.
"Sir, there are no files from the security cameras' system. Whoever it was made sure to leave no traces," another officer interjected, halting the ongoing interrogation.
"Was anyone else there? besides you and well… Vanessa." He gazed at you with a furrowed brow, and you responded with a subtle shake of your head. Your lips formed a taut line as you revisited every fleeting moment preceding the end of your shift.
"I was about to finish my shift, and usually, no one shows up around that time. Before he arrived, there was a lady with a kid, but I don't think they saw each other." You explained, taking a moment to glance at your wife, hoping to find comfort in her eyes. A faint smile appeared on her face, accompanied by a small, supportive nod. She was there for you.
The officer hastily transcribed all the details, his pen scratching against the paper. "I'll give you a moment," he said, casting a furtive glance at Ellie before quietly exiting the room, making his departure alongside his steadfast colleague.
She stepped closer to you with a gentle grace, reaching out to lift your chin with the utmost care. Her touch was as light as a feather, almost as if she feared causing you any harm. "You're doing great, pretty. We're almost done, okay? Just hang on," She gazed down at you with a smile that could light up the darkest sky, her eyes filled with tenderness and warmth. Your gaze met hers, and in that moment, it felt like time stood still. Her delicate touch traced the contours of your face, evoking a sense of serenity that enveloped you. As you closed your eyes, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned into her caress, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.
After a few moments, Jesse entered the crowded diner, his footsteps echoing softly on the floor. He exchanged a few words with the man who had been interrogating you the entire time. Ellie briefly glanced at him, and a faint smile graced her lips as they locked eyes, holding each other's gaze in that fleeting moment.
"So whatcha wanna do when we get back home?" she asked in an attempt to steer your thoughts away from the stress and chaos.
"I don't know... I wanna sleep," you pouted, your words soft and heavy with weariness. She looked down at you with tenderness, gently brushing a stray piece of hair out of the way and tucking it behind your ear.
"Tempting. But I was thinking of your favorite movie and pizza?" she suggested, her hopeful gaze meeting yours, her voice carrying a whisper of warmth.
You forced a half smile at her suggestion, your eyes still looking more tired than ever. "What about tacos? You know that Mexican place down the street?" You recalled the Mexican restaurant that recently opened down the street. For about two weeks, you had been telling her you wanted to try it, yet you still hadn't gotten the chance to.
She brushed your hair with her fingers, each gentle stroke feeling like a soft caress. A gentle smile formed on her lips, making the apples of her cheeks more pronounced. "Good idea, babe," she praised, her voice as soothing as a summer breeze, as tender as her touch, and you couldn't help but smile back at her, feeling the warmth of her affection enveloping you like a soft blanket.
After what seemed like an eternity, they finally let you go, and Ellie refused to leave your side for even a moment. Jesse drove you both home in solemn silence, punctuated only by the occasional light banter between him and Ellie. The weight of the impending visit to the police station loomed over you, and you couldn't fathom the reason behind the barrage of questions that awaited you. Perhaps it was due to the absence of eyewitnesses, but you were ready to cooperate nonetheless. That night, she held you gently, wrapping you in a comforting hug until you fell asleep.
The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.
The very next day, your wife stood by your side as you both headed to the police station. Her hand gently rested on your thigh throughout the entire ride, silently expressing her unwavering love and support. The warm sunbeams that usually provided comfort through the car windows didn't have the same effect on your nerves. Your stomach felt heavy, as if a knot had formed within you. Anxiety and restlessness consumed you. Her green emerald eyes frequently flickered towards you as she attempted to soothe your nerves with soft whispers, promising to stay by your side the entire time.
"It's going to be okay, honey." Her lips, delicate as rose petals, gently pressed against your forehead. She reluctantly let you go, watching you disappear into the interrogation room. Her colleagues' words echoed in the air, emphasizing the need for her to stay out so she would not interfere in any way.
"How did you sleep y/n?" the detective in front of you asked, turning on the recorder player before reaching for a pencil and starting scribbling on her papers.
"Awful," you exhaled, the weight of the word hanging heavy in the air. Your index finger delicately traced the arch of your brow as you gazed downwards, lost in a moment of profound contemplation.
"It must've been a traumatizing experience for you."
You nodded barely, your tired eyes meeting hers, "It was." Your face was less radiant than usual. The detective had seen you countless times before in this exact station, searching for your wife to deliver her something. Sometimes, it was a carefully prepared meal, other times, it was a bouquet of her favorite flowers or simply a thoughtful gift. And then there were the times you were there just to check up on her, your unexpected visits filled with love and concern.
"Let's attempt to retrace your steps together. Shall we?"
"Okay"
"Let's start from the beginning," she said, giving you the chance to speak at your own pace, without any pressure, so that you could fully elaborate on your memories and feelings.
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The Diner – Early Night – September 11th, 2018.
You let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly exhausted from the long hours of the shift. You had barely slept the day before, managing a measly 3 hours of restless sleep that did little to ease the heavy weariness on your tired shoulders. Every inch of you ached for the comforting embrace of your bed, and your eyes longed to shut for just a moment.
As you wiped the counter clean, you glanced towards the door that seemed to swing open all too rarely during this late hour. The clock ticked closer to 4:04 am, and you knew it was unusual for people to come around this time of night. Just a few customers here and there was all you could expect, and you preferred it that way.
The background noise of chatter in the late-night diner was enough to lull you to sleep, but you kept going on autopilot, moving to the sink to wash the few dishes that awaited you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips as you thought about the hours that separated you from your pillow's comfort—the night seemed to stretch on infinitely.
"Ready to run back home to get laid?" the shorter girl teased you playfully, nudging you with her elbow as a small smile played on her red lips. She noticed the exhaustion written on your face, the fatigue in your heavy eyelids, and the dark circles under your eyes. You let out a dry chuckle, trying to hide the exhaustion that had settled deep within you.
"Just wanna go to bed," you responded with a weak but playful smile
"Right. go to bed with your hot wife—wonder what y'all freaks will do." Vanessa continued to playfully tease you, her liking for your wife a little too evident in her words. Ever since Ellie stepped into this diner for the first time, the brunette set her eyes on her. However, Ellie had always made the fact that she wasn't interested obvious. Your friend was pretty unlucky in this sort of thing; the best she would get was a phone number scribbled on a piece of paper by a middle-aged, beer-bellied man, who was likely just looking for a quick hook-up. And despite her initial attempts to draw Ellie's attention, Vanessa could sense that her interest was unreciprocated, leaving her feelings unreturned for the time being.
You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at Vanessa's words, and you nudged her lightly with your hip as a playful gesture. She moved closer, taking over the task of drying the dishes you had just washed, her hands methodically working alongside yours to complete the chore "Oh, handcuff me, Ellie, I've been such a bad, bad girl." She imitated you in a high-pitched voice that was nothing like yours, and you responded with a dramatic gasp, feigning shock and surprise at her teasing. The exaggerated reaction only seemed to amuse her more, and she broke into a wide grin, her laughter echoing through the diner.
"Oh my god, shut up!"
She burst into a fit of laughter, her amusement so intense that it drew the attention of the few remaining customers in the retro-looking diner. Some of them shot her strange looks, narrowing their eyes disapprovingly at the disturbance, while others simply ignored her and continued with their conversations.
"I swear, you shouldn't even be allowed here. You're embarrassing.” You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her, secretly appreciating her exuberant spirit. Her laughter died down; her blue eyes shifted toward the table where an older woman and her child had just finished their meal. The brunette approached the table, wiping it clean and pocketing the generous tip the woman had left her. She shot a wide smile her way, thanking her before returning to your side behind the counters.
"Hey, not fair," you complained, turning off the faucet with a huff and drying your hands on a cloth before facing her. "Let's split."
She grinned at you unapologetically, "Sorry, finders keepers." You sighed, turning towards her with one hand on your hip, with a playful disappointment on your face.
"Whatever—my shift is almost over anyways. Guess who's gonna be stuck here for a while longer? Hah! Not me." The lighthearted taunts cut short as a man suddenly entered the diner, his dark clothes and raised hood casting an eerie shadow over his features. You exchanged a glance with your coworker, silently agreeing that the stranger's appearance was suspicious, but decided to brush it off.
"Liz is gonna be here in a bit. Want me to wait here with you until she arrives?" you offered thoughtfully, your fingers skillfully untying the frilly white fabric that had been wrapped around your waist throughout the entire shift. Your eyes darted discreetly towards the man sitting at one of the tables, completely engrossed by his phone as he typed feverishly, his fingers dancing across the screen. The dim lighting of the diner cast shadows on his face, making it difficult to discern his expressions or intent.
“Naaah, I'll be fine.” she gave you a reassuring smile, and you nodded in acknowledgment, murmuring a quick "alright" before disappearing into the back room. The sound of the door creaking echoed softly in your ears as you entered the staff area, immediately shedding your frilly apron and gathering your personal belongings.
When you exited the small room, you saw Vanessa pouring steaming coffee into the mysterious man's cup. Navigating your way towards the exit, your shoulder bumped against hers, and she whispered playfully, “Eminem wannabe,” and you couldn't help but chuckle.
You had barely made it halfway down the road when the sickening realization hit you like a brick—you had left your keys at the diner. Ellie wouldn't be home anytime soon, so there was no way you could get in. You cursed under your breath before reluctantly turning your car around, determined to retrieve your keys. But when you returned to the diner, the scene that greeted you was surreal and terrifying. Vanessa's lifeless body lay on the floor, a gruesome tableau of violence that seemed to defy imagination, and there was no trace of the Eminem look-alike she had jested about only moments ago.
With a sense of dread and disbelief, you cautiously approached her body, the pool of blood surrounding her seeming to glow a disturbingly bright shade of red in the low light of the back room. You succumbed to the weight of the situation, the strength leaving your body as you sank to your knees. After calling out her name and shaking her in vain, the cold reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. No pulse, no breathing, no nothing. The sticky, warm liquid of her blood staining your bare knees was a chilling reminder of the horror that had played out in the dark corners of the diner. The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breathing as you sat there in shock and the broken sobs that escaped your wobbly lips, echoing in the now-empty diner. It was a moment that you would never forget, a nightmare that would haunt you for the rest of the days.
“911, what's your emergency?”
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The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.
Your face is stained with grief and regret. “I wish I waited with her, I had a gut feeling and-” You hiccupped, your voice choked with emotion, “I regret not listening to it.” The blonde woman before you nodded in understanding, her gaze filled with a mixture of empathy and professional detachment. After a moment, she reached out to turn off the recorder, the soft click cutting off the audio of your emotional confession.
The detective stood up, her words a mere formality in the face of your emotional turmoil. "That is it, y/n. Thank you for your cooperation." With a final nod, she turned and left the room, leaving you with your emotions and thoughts.
In a flash of movement, Ellie entered the room, her steps quick and purposeful as she slid in just as the detective stepped out. Her eyes softened as she took in your tear-stained face.
"Hey," she whispered softly, her words reaching your ears and bringing a brief moment of comfort. You mustered a weak "Hey" in response. The weight of the situation was heavy on your shoulders, and you felt a deep sense of vulnerability in her presence, the trauma of the past few hours still lingering in your mind.
“You did pretty good, ma.” She stood right behind you, her touch gentle and reassuring as she rubbed your shoulders. Her presence was strong and supportive, even though you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze. But she was there by your side as always, and it was the only guarantee you needed in that moment.
"Just wanna go home." You murmured, your voice barely audible, earning a nod from her; her silent response conveying her understanding of your unspoken need for comfort.
"I'll take you," she offered softly, her voice a gentle reassurance. You tried to protest, not wanting to add to her burden. She was working, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to keep your hot wife from fulfilling her responsibilities.
"No, it's fine," you said hurriedly. "You're working anyways." But Ellie's insistence was unwavering, her tone firm yet compassionate.
"It's fine, I promise," she assured you, her words leaving no room for argument. All she wanted to do was linger by your side and stay home with you, but duty called, and right after dropping you home, she returned to her workplace.
Police Station – September 15th, 2018.
The raven-haired man approached Ellie, his voice serious as he announced, "Things don't look too good, El." He quickly locked the door behind him before continuing to spill some private matters everyone had kept from her.
The atmosphere in the room turned tense as Jesse placed his hands on the edge of Ellie's desk and leaned closer to her. His serious expression left no doubt that he wasn't joking around. "Are you on ‘shrooms again?" she asked sarcastically, but when he didn't break into a smile, she set down her pen and looked up at him, her expression turning serious. "I'm gonna take that as a no," she said cautiously, her voice still laced with a hint of sarcasm.
Ellie's tentative words broke the silence again, "So? You gonna tell me what's up, or you just gonna stand there and look stupid?" But her playful remark was again met with the man's serious and troubled expression. He shook his head slowly, sighing as if he was carefully considering the right words to use. He leaned closer to her, his voice now a low, hushed tone.
"They think your girl has something to do with it." The seriousness in his voice left no doubt that it was a situation that could not be taken lightly.
Ellie's defensive and aggravated tone filled the room as she stood up from her worn-out office chair, abruptly raising her voice. "What?! That's fuckin’ absurd!" she snapped, "They can't accuse her of that—she didn't do it!" Jesse raised his hand to beckon her to keep it quiet, his expression serious as he tried to keep the conversation from escalating.
"Listen, don't let them know that you know,” he explained, his voice hushed. "They weren't going to tell you because they think you'll get involved and mess up the investigation,” he explained. The freckled girl's face contorted with a mix of disbelief, anger, and fear as her friend described the situation to her. Her fists clenched as she took in the news, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts at once.
"What do the police think they have on her?" she interrogated, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out how to answer her question. "Nothing. They said they won't say anything until they find evidence.” The more she pondered the situation, the faster her heart raced, and her palms grew damp with perspiration. It almost felt like a betrayal of trust. These were people who had known you for years, yet they didn't hesitate to place you at the top of their list of suspects despite lacking any evidence.
Ellie's agitation was palpable as she paced back and forth, "So what if they don't find anything, hm?" she demanded, her frustration clear in her voice. "That's complete bullshit, Jesse—My wife… Why would they even think that?" Her voice was low and harsh, filled with a mix of outrage and defensiveness, Jesse visibly tensed at the harshness of her tone. “Just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Well, guess what! It's nothing she can control. She simply happens to work at the diner, for fuck’s sake!" Her outburst reverberated off the walls of the small office, the frustration and anger practically tangible in the air as she forcefully slammed her hand down on the polished wooden desk.
Jesse gently but firmly placed his hands on Ellie's shoulders, his gaze locking with hers "Keep it quiet, dude. You tryna get both of us in trouble? I wasn't even supposed to tell you, but I thought you deserved to know," He hushed her, slightly shaking her to emphasize his point. He understood the sensitive nature of the situation, after all, they were not talking about any other girl. They were talking about Ellie's wife. Jesse's years as a police officer had taught him that stress management was key to handling these situations effectively, something Ellie seemed to lack sometimes.
Her green emeralds bored into his as she shook her head slowly, attempting to regain her composure. "Sorry," she sighed.
"Listen, there's nothing to worry about unless they find evidence." He reassured her in a soothing tone, releasing her shoulders.
"Well, I can assure you they won't find anything." She stated confidently, her tone still stern as her brows furrowed, and he nodded.
"I know. I know she has nothing to do with it." He truly couldn't wrap his head around it. How could they ever think someone like you had something to do with it? You were probably one of the kindest people he knew.
St. John's Health | Hospital – September 27th, 2018.
Eventually, the investigators turned their attention away from you, their focus shifting to the mysterious man you had described as the killer. There was no evidence whatsoever linking you to the brutal murder of Vanessa; why would you even harm someone you considered a friend? The text messages between you and your coworker revealed a purely friendly relationship, and there was no apparent motive for the crime. With no evidence to incriminate you, they dropped all suspects within three days. They all witnessed your evident grief when you discovered your friend’s lifeless body, shock and devastation overwhelming you, making them feel… off-track.
You stopped going to work, and even if you had the choice, there was no use; the diner remained shut, never to be reopened after the tragic accident, and the entire town of once quiet and peaceful community seemed unsettled and frightened by the series of murders that followed the diner accident. The once lively eatery now lay abandoned, a somber reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the town.
They had been trying everything, but the police found themselves chasing shadows. The one consistent detail from witnesses was the description of a man wearing a hood that covered his face, yet no one managed to catch a glimpse of his identity. So the authorities tried diligently interrogating individuals with a history of violence or abusive behavior, but each suspect appeared innocent, their alibis providing a strong defense, and none of them really fit the description.
Residents began locking themselves in at night, their evenings filled with unease and terror. Pretty soon, the killer and his murders became the main topic of conversation everywhere. It seemed like everyone was completely shaken up and fixated on the news surrounding the mysterious figure. Even the media jumped on the bandwagon, naming him the 'Shadow Killer,' a name that perfectly captured the eerie and unsettling nature of his attacks.
The baby's shrill cries and soft coos filled the hospital room as Jesse turned off the TV, muttering, "This shit’s crazy" under his breath. Ellie nodded in agreement, her gaze momentarily lingering on the news report before returning her focus to you, holding Dina's bundle of joy with love and care. The thought of having kids had never really crossed her mind, but something about seeing you with the baby, making silly faces to coax laughter out of him while rocking him gently, filled her with a desire to try and another type of desire.
She felt like building a family with you would complete her, despite having said that she considered you her everything and that she needed nothing else. While it was partially true, seeing your maternal instincts kicking in made her feel like everything clicked, like that was the final piece to your marriage and relationship—one she didn’t even know was missing.
A warm smile graced Ellie's face as she observed you interacting with JJ, gushing over the baby boy with a soft voice, claiming he was the most adorable thing you've ever set your eyes on.
“He's perfect, Dee,” you stated for the millionth time.
The brunette chuckled in response, jokingly telling you, “He's all yours.”
Jesse chimed in with a jest, bumping the shorter girl's shoulder “You're next,” earning a puzzled look from her. He cleared his throat and clarified, “First–they’re holding someone’s kid and next thing you know, they're asking for one.” Raising her scarred brows, Ellie scoffed at the teasing comment, but when her crystalline emeralds returned to you, she realized he wasn’t wrong. The sparkle in your eyes as you held the baby, a look that spoke volumes to your wife, who had known you for years. She could see the unmistakable signs of love and adoration on your face and she knew that sooner or later, you were going to bring it up.
She approached you, her heart melting under the warmth of your soft smile, peering over your shoulder to look at the pretty boy in your arms, “El, look at him,” you whispered, gently cradling JJ in your arms.
“He's got Jesse's eyes,” she remarked, studying the little one's features.
Jesse couldn't help but burst into laughter, correcting her playfully, “He looks Asian, you mean.” eliciting a burst of laughter from Ellie.
“Totally what I meant.” she retorted sarcastically.
"Dunno, looks like the baby from the Ice Age movie t'me"
Your Apartment – October 2nd, 2018.
Ever since that “fateful” night at the hospital, you became the only thought that occupied her mind. Sure, she was your wife, and it was supposed to be that way, but there was one specific thought that consumed every cell of her brain. You, pregnant. Pregnant with her baby, your tummy swelling with the precious life growing inside you and your skin radiating a warm, ethereal glow. It was something that played in her mind nonstop, especially during sex. Especially when she was rutting against your pussy.
The thought of your juices mingling together, the thought of filling you up with her essence, was something that didn't seem to want to leave her mind anytime soon. And she couldn't seem to keep her hands off of you, always finding excuses to touch you, caress you, grope you, or even grind against the push of your butt when you were most distracted with chores.
You noticed something inside her had shifted, and on the other hand, she felt like a middle schooler all over again, sex occupying her mind all night, all day like a horny teenager in their puberty. Almost as if she felt the need to claim you and make you entirely hers in every possible way. But you didn't mind. No, of course, you didn't. How could you when she was fucking you so good and hard? How could you mind it when she pounded into you until the early hours of the morning?
"So good with kids...so, so good," velvety murmurs caressed your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of intimate kisses along the length of your neck. You tilted your head, granting her even greater access to explore you. Her fiery, vibrant locks, reminiscent of autumn leaves, intertwined effortlessly with your fingers as you gently pulled her closer.
"Hmmm." A soft, muffled sound escaped your lips in response "Does that turn you on?" Your voice dropped to a hushed whisper, accompanied by a dreamy giggle that found its way to her ears, prompting a smile to grace her lips against your skin.
"Does that turn me on?" She echoed your words with a sultry tone; her voice saturated with desire as she intentionally ground against your thigh. Your hands swiftly drew her nearer, firmly grasping her by the waist, the tips of your fingers danced suggestively along the hem of her Calvin Klein boxers.
"I'll take that as a yes." A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gently led her to grind against you once more, eliciting a gasp from her as your fingertips tightened on her buttocks. A delicate sigh fell from her lips, caressing you like a gentle breeze, her parched lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a tantalizing shiver down your spine.
"You'd be such a good mama" the words seemed to slip out of her mouth without conscious thought, tangled up in the web of her own fantasies that had been tormenting her for quite some time.
"You really think so?" Your voice was as silky as cotton, a stark contrast to the firm yet gentle grip of your hands on her hips as you guided her increasingly urgent motions against your thighs. Soft, languid moans poured against your neck, planting a trail of heated kisses along the length of your neck, her mouth working with a voracious appetite as she suckled on your sensitive skin like a starving bloodsucker, marking you. A low, sultry hum was all you received from her in response. Your nude skin pressed against her, her clad breasts grazing yours, her hardened nipples stimulating yours through the thin fabric of her black bralette.
"You should put a baby in me."
The words seemed to halt her in her tracks. She leaned back slightly, studying your expression intently, her gaze locking with yours. A playful twinkle danced in her eyes, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Amusement and surprise mixed in her freckled-dusted features. "Strip." with a soft but unyieldingly firm tone, her features utterly devoid of emotion except for the subtle arch of her brows, making you break into a fit of giggles.
"Oh? just like that?"
With fervent anticipation, you stripped off the remaining garments still clinging to your body, your eyes intensely fixated on the sight before you. The vision of her adorned in the black strap, one of the numerous items you and your wife possessed, never failed to make your pussy clench, leaving your stomach in knots. Such a luscious spectacle. And you were the lucky girl who got to witness all this. Your body sank into the plush embrace of the mattress as you watched her gracefully position herself between your legs, straddling them. With a tender squeeze of your knee, her other hand gently pressed the tip of the silicone toy against your sensitive nub, sending an electric jolt of pressure through you. The unexpected sensation, even in its softness, coaxed a squirming response from you, your hips instinctively trying to pull away.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, the tip of her cock rubbing through your folds, her slender fingers coating and preparing her silicone dick with your slickness. She groaned softly, lost in the alluring haze of her own touch, almost as if the toy were an extension of herself “It’s so pathetic how much of a slut you are for me.” Her actions prompted a whimper to escape your lips.
“Fuck you, stop teasing,” you retorted, tinged with a mix of annoyance and desperation, betraying the aching desire that consumed you. The sight of your drenched and soaked pussy made Ellie almost salivate, feeling eager to destroy it and make a mess of you. She loved knowing that even after years of being together your desire for her was burning as fierce as ever. You had never once failed to make her feel wanted, and how could you when she was simply this fine?
A dry, mirthless chuckle slipped out from between her lips as a self-satisfied smirk adorned her features. The soft moonlight delicately highlighted her cheekbones, enhancing her already stunning appearance and making her seem as if she were personally blessed by the moon herself “What, can’t handle a little teasing?” she responded with a playful taunt, she felt her own arousal growing, the back of her strap dampened with her own slickness, feeling a desperate need of friction.
“This is not teasing, you’re just being a little bitch” you pouted, your body arching eagerly as your pussy sought the sensation of her cock stretching you so amazingly. As she abruptly thrust forward, a high-pitched squeal was wrenched from your lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Her expression was a mask of amusement, witnessing your visceral reaction to her every touch, a reminder of the power she held over you.
“What were you saying? Didn't quite catch the last part,” With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she taunted you, her hands gently claiming your hips as she leaned down, her gaze taking in every angle of your contorted face.
“I said-” You attempted to speak once more, but another plunging thrust stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you speechless.
“Yeah, said what?”
“Hmmpphh.” You could feel her going deeper into you, your eyes shut close and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, arching into her, she looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, licking her lips before pressing damp kisses on your jawline and your throat, savoring all the pretty moans and whimpers you gave her.
"So pretty," she murmured, a note of possessiveness lacing her words, "And mine. All mine." She captured your lips in a passionate and messy kiss, her tongue tangling with yours as she continued to slide in and out of you, each movement causing you to moan into the kiss, and she gladly swallowed each one of them. You had taken such meticulous care of her, preparing her meals, doing the laundry, and handling the household chores with diligence that she just felt the need to reciprocate and fuck you as you deserved.
Such a good fucking housewife, she couldn't ask for better.
“Babe, fuuuck,” You cried out, your brows drawing together as her pace intensified. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body writhed in response.
“Want me to get you pregnant you said, yeah?” With a strained, breathy voice, she whispered, each movement meticulously targeted to hit the exact spot inside you that made sparks fly behind your eyelids and your toes curl. You nodded eagerly, a chorus of whimpers and whines escaping your lips “Then you’ll have to take my cock as deep as you can–want you to feel it all the way up in your womb.” she grunted, pushing the strap in as deep as it could go, feeling your walls clench around it. “But you’ll be a good girl and take it, won’t you?” she purred, her lips leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. Unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could manage was an enthusiastic nod in response, which was clearly not enough for her. A slap was delivered to the sensitive flesh of your thigh, causing you to squeak in surprise “Words, mama.” She demanded, completely captivated by your heavenly expressions and the bouncing of your tits.
“Y-yes… ’ll be good,” you babbled out incoherently; the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room. Each movement, each touch perfectly calculated, your body writhing with each thrust.
“Mmm, fucking love how you take it.” She whispered, her breath coming in shallow huffs as her tongue and teeth worked their magic on one of your sensitive nubs, drawing out strained whimpers from you. Your fingers coiled in her hair, craving the closeness and seeking an anchor in the sea of pleasure that swelled between your legs. Your cunt wrapped around her so perfectly, and she had your legs shaking like crazy—that’s how she knew you were close.
“Gonna fill you up so good, baby.” whispering filthy promises into your ear, leaning back and burying all her length inside your womb, the tip of her fake cock rubbing your g-spot deliciously, making your eyes roll in the back of your head as she ground against the base of the strap, desperately chasing her own pleasure.
“Need your babies, pleaseplease…cum inside me,” you whined, the words catching in your throat as you gasped for breath, wrapping your legs around her waist with an urgent need to keep her close, both of your throbbing clits grinding against the base of her strap.
“Fuckfuck..’m coming.” Ellie’s grunts grew louder, a guttural melody that echoed in your ears. Her head arched back, the muscles in her body trembling and tensing as she slammed her dick inside you, urging you to cum with her
“Ellie, fuuuck.” Your body rocked wildly against hers, the movement becoming erratic as the heel of your foot pressed firmly into her glutes, trapping her between your soft thighs as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Sweet and breathy mewls escaped your swollen lips, your back arching into her almost painfully.
Dr. Diaz was right after all, you just needed to try new things with your wife, explore your fantasies with her.
Typically, she made you feel so good, and you gladly reciprocated the pleasure she gave you, but tonight, the tables had turned. She was solely fixated on making you feel loved and worshiped, determined to pull a fifth orgasm from your worn-out body. Your legs shook uncontrollably, and your core ached from the relentless onslaught of overstimulation, and she showed no signs of slowing down or stopping anytime soon. Your arms were pinned firmly behind your back, the cold, hard steel of the handcuffs digging into the delicate skin of your wrists with a biting force. You twitched and writhed involuntarily, the restrictive hold making you feel helpless and vulnerable; it was driving you insane. It was Ellie's idea, and you cursed yourself for agreeing to try something new.
“Babe, please…let me touch you.” A pathetic whine escaped your lips, quickly followed by a guttural whimper as her calloused hands skillfully controlled your every move. You were growing more desperate each second, yearning to play with those perky tits just lying there, right beneath you. They looked so lonely and neglected, it was such a shame. Rough palms find purchase on the softness of your hips, adjusting and re-adjusting your position to her liking. You struggled vainly against the cuffs, trying to squirm free, but the tight binds held strong, leaving you utterly at her mercy. You couldn’t move, and if you could, you know she wouldn’t let you. You were hers, hers to fuck and destroy like a doll.
A mischievous grin spread across her features, a mixture of pride and amusement, knowing she was the cause of your current state, leaving you deliciously wrecked, her darkened eyes fixed on the milky white ring encircling the base of the black strap, your wetness coating her. “Thought you said you wanted me to fuck a baby into you?” Her voice was husky and strained, the words escaping her lips in a gravelly purr that seemed to vibrate through your very core, your walls squeezing her cock almost to trap her inside.
“I do,” you choked out. “Ellie, please,” you were so fucking desperate. Ridiculously desperate to play with her nipples, touch her, perhaps wrap your hand around her neck, something that she seemed to enjoy, but what she was enjoying the most was the helpless expressions on your face as you looked down at her, pouting. You were always needy and she could easily put you in your place, but this needy? She was sure she had never seen you this desperate. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t touch her, and she was forcing you to ride her because you needed to earn ‘it.’ You needed to earn her babies, needed to earn her cum inside you. In all honesty, it was just a fucking excuse, and who could blame her? the sight of you riding her strap like a fucking pornstar with your hands handcuffed behind your back was everything, it was all she needed.
“C’mon ma, ride me like you always do. Don’t you want me to fill that pretty pussy of yours, hm?” As your hips started to move, taking her in inch by inch, a dry chuckle escaped her throat, her gaze flicking up to meet your pretty tits as they bounced in her face “Just like that…good giiirl,” the praise dripping with saccharine sweetness mingling with the slick, wet sounds of your pussy, the echoes of your moans and breathless gasps filling the room like a lewd harmony. “Needa work for it, princess,” Ellie says, her hands leaving your hips and finding a new home on your boobs; her thumbs danced across your hardened nubs, teasing and flicking them with a ruthless skill that caused you to writhe and squirm in her hands.
“Please, p-please,” you managed to croak out, begging and pleading for her to fill you up with her babies as if she could. You gasped and whined when the black tip of her strap kissed your cervix, going deeper into your womb.
“Take every inch of it, baby,” her words flowed like liquid heat against the delicate shell of your ear as you collapsed into her embrace, completely consumed by her slow yet harsh thrusts, your eyes fluttering shut in blissful surrender.
“Ahhhh-” you gasped helplessly.
“Gonna be such a perfect mama,” She growled, her palms eagerly squeezing your ass before delivering a sharp smack that drew a startled yelp from you.
“Cum inside me,” you quaked into the crook of her shoulder, warm puffs of your breath caressing her freckled skin.
“You dirty little slut, you like that, don’t you?” She let out a husky chuckle, her hand delivering another sharp spank before her firm grip found purchase on your hips, running up and down your soft skin as she guided your movements.
“Mmmhhmmm” you adjusted your position and began to slowly bounce on her cock, ensuring her clit rubbed against the base of the toy, your movements deliberately aimed at eliciting a response from her. Your gaze locked onto the contours of her stomach, entranced by the way each muscle contracted with each painful roll of your hips, causing her breath to hitch in her throat, her chest rising and falling in sharp pants. The soft freckles scattered across her cheeks standing out vividly against the rosy hue, sweat trickled down her scarred brow, mingling with strands of baby hair that clung to her damp skin.
“Look at your fucking—god… your fucking cunt, taking every inch of…hmmm… me” And oh, how absolutely mesmerizing she was when she was right where you wanted her. The epitome of perfection, a fantasy that surely haunted the dreams of many.
“Please, El… wanna cum with you.” You couldn't help the plaintive and slutty whine that slipped past your lips, her breath stuttered and grew ragged, and her hands, firm and sure, set a rhythm on your hips, expertly guiding you with a purpose. Her own slickness soaked the pastel blue cotton sheets beneath her. Your hazy, half-lidded eyes met hers, “Close?” Your voice came out weak and breathless as you looked down at her, your pace quickening as you ground against her desperately. She nodded frenetically; you could feel your climax approaching like a crashing wave, and you desperately bit down on your bottom lip to muffle the whimpers that threatened to escape, knowing it wouldn't be much longer before you came again.
She steadied you with each languid roll of your hips, selfishly using you to get off. Each motion a perfect counterpoint to her own, and you could feel sweat dripping down your bare back.
"Hmmm...I love when you're inside me"
That was all it took. In a single fluid motion, she pulled you closer, sealing her lips against yours in a kiss that was more desperate and unhinged than any before it, coming simultaneously and swallowing every sweet sound you gave her.
Finally, as you came back down to Earth, you collapsed onto her, your handcuffed hands still immobile behind your back.
"It’s okay, pretty, I gotchu," she says, her voice raw and raspy from the intensity of her orgasm. She reached for the keys to the cuffs on the bedside table. You slowly sat up, the toy still nestling comfortably inside you, and she released your wrists from their tight embrace, allowing you to massage the sensitive, bruised skin with a tender touch. With a weary but satisfied sigh, you slowly extricate yourself from her, leaving behind a trail of your essence covering her whole length. You collapsed onto the soft sheets beside her, and she swiftly discarded the strap somewhere on the floor. You snuggled closer to her, your body molding against hers as you kissed her cheek tenderly. Her lips curled upwards in a contented smile, and she gently pulled you on top of her, holding you close in her strong embrace.
“Did so good, princess. I love you.” She placed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, her heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you lay snuggled against her bare chest.
“I love you more,” you echoed back softly.
"Don't forget to leave a 5 star review on the app for the ride-" you couldn't help but erupt into a fit of laughter, your body shaking softly as you gazed up at her.
"God, you're so embarrassing." You gave her arm a playful slap, a grin still spread across your face as you both laughed together.
"Yet you're still riding my cock." Her eyebrows arched upwards, a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Only because I have to." You rolled your eyes at her
"It’s not like you're being held at gunpoint—fuck me or I'll shoot you. Pew pew," she aimed and fired at imaginary enemies with her fingers.
"I'm dating a fucking kid." You let out a dramatic sigh, feigning disappointment but unable to keep a smile from forming on your lips
“And that makes you a what?” She retorted sarcastically, arching a single brow at you with a smug expression on her face.
“Okay” you replied with a deadpan, “I think it’s your bedtime,” you added in a fake serious tone, making her giggle.
“Nooo, I wanna snuggle,” she groaned in mock protest, her lips pouting as she pulled you closer.
The two of you embraced each other, intertwining your limbs as you whispered sweet nothings to one another. The soft hum of the TV filled the air around you, and the cool night air from the open window sent chills down your spine. Both of you gently lulled into a peaceful slumber.
"This is a news flash update! We have received news of yet another fatal stabbing, this time in a local motel. A 25-year-old woman was found dead in her room, brutally stabbed to death. This is the third murder reported in the last month, causing a great deal of panic and concern amongst the town's inhabitants. Police investigations are currently underway, and residents are advised to take caution and keep their doors and windows locked at all times. Now over to our reporter on the scene for further details."
Your Apartment – October 19th, 2018.
Holding Dina's baby for the first time in the hospital was an experience that felt more like signing a contract with an invisible ink pen. You hadn't realized it then, but the moment your arms cradled JJ's tiny, warm body, you became an integral part of his life and his babysitter whenever the couple was too busy or needed some peace. The trust Dina placed in you was immediate and profound, and you were the first person she called when she needed someone reliable to watch over her precious baby potato.
And how could you ever say no? JJ was an angel wrapped in soft blankets, with eyes that sparkled with curiosity and a giggle that could melt even the hardest of hearts made of stone. Sure, he had his moments of frustration, his small fists clenching in tantrums every now and then, but those were fleeting storms in an otherwise sunny disposition. Most of the time, JJ was a remarkably well-behaved child, a rarity in the world of toddlers.
His tiny hands would reach out for you, his laughter echoing like a sweet melody in the air, filling your apartment. The way he looked at you with pure, unfiltered trust made every impromptu babysitting session feel less like an obligation and more like a cherished opportunity, something you truly enjoyed. And in all honesty, after the diner you worked at was shut, looking after JJ was something that kept you busy and distracted. And a distraction is always nice.
"I'll come pick him up at… is 11 too late?" Jesse asked tentatively, gently rocking his son in his arms. He looked down at JJ, shooting a few silly grins that made the baby gurgle with delight.
You shook your head profusely, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Absolutely not. You know I'm a night owl," you reminded him with a gentle smile. Your eyes softened as you extended your arms, ready to cradle the potato-shaped boy.
Jesse handed JJ over, his small weight settling comfortably against you. You could feel the warmth of his tiny body through his onesie, the baby-soft skin of his tiny hand brushing against your cheek as you adjusted him in your arms. His dad's shoulders relaxed, knowing his son was in safe hands. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. You simply smiled, looking down at JJ, who was now cooing contentedly, his little hand grasping your finger with surprising strength.
"Anytime," you replied softly, feeling a swell of affection for the tiny being in your arms. His chubby cheeks and his cute tiny hands were the most adorable things in the world. Who was gonna tell Ellie that you wanted a kid now?
“Dina really needs to rest, and I can’t be there to help because of work.” You nodded, feeling bad for the brunette, knowing she was home alone with her son most of the time.
"Tell Dina I said hi," you added as Jesse adjusted his uniform jacket.
"Will do—Ellie's gonna get off her shift at 3 AM," he informed you, his voice tinged with fatigue but still warm, the bags under his eyes said it all; becoming a parent surely wasn’t a walk in the park.
You nodded at his words, then suddenly remembered something. "Oh wait—I almost forgot!" Your eyes widened as you turned your back, hurrying to retrieve a small bag from the kitchen. You returned to the front door, holding the bag out to Jesse, who was now leaning casually against the door frame.
"Oh! What would she do without you?" he exclaimed in a teasing manner, deep down finding the gesture sweet and thoughtful. It was endearing how you always looked after your wife, preparing her meals while she worked tirelessly at the police station, ensuring she wouldn't skip the most important part of the day and that she was well-nourished.
You chuckled at his words. "What would you do without me, actually," you corrected him with a playful smile. "Two chicken sandwiches, one for you, one for her, no tomatoes for you. There's some apples and a few chocolate bars, too,"
Jesse swiftly grabbed the paper bag from your hand and peeked inside. "You're amazing," he said with a grin on his face. "Hope JJ won't be too much trouble," he added, his chocolate eyes shifting to his son in your arms.
"I'll be fine—be careful, alright?" you warned him, your tone turning slightly serious.
He nodded, appreciating your concern. "Always am. See you at 11," he said, turning around to walk away from your doorstep, the bag of food swinging gently at his side.
You spent the whole evening with JJ, you dedicated your time to caring for the baby boy. You carefully prepared his meal and then proceeded to give him a relaxing bubble bath, hoping the latter would make him somewhat sleepy and ready to go to bed. Little plastic ducks floating on the surface add a whimsy touch to the whole scene. Suddenly, your phone rang, breaking the peaceful atmosphere. With JJ cradled in the bathtub, you quickly reached for your phone, ensuring your free hand was dry after patting it with the folded towel placed conveniently within your reach.
“El?”
“Hi baby,” her warm and affectionate voice flowed through the speaker; you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and joy.
A soft smile graced your lips, “Hey gorgeous,” your voice was filled with a playful tone, and the sound of Mr. Potato giggling could be heard in the background.
Her voice was husky as she asked, “How’s it going?”
“Oh, y’know, just giving stinky-boy a bath.” The endearing nickname that escaped your lips elicited an uncontrollable, joyous laughter from the pretty boy. Despite being just a baby, his insatiable curiosity and discerning intelligence were truly impressive, definitely something he hadn’t inherited from his dad. The infectious giggle emanating from the baby brought a warm chuckle from auburnette. “How’s it going for you?” you took the chance to ask back.
“Jus’ stuck with paperwork while Jesse gets all the fun tasks.” Her dry lips parted slightly, releasing a barely audible, airy exhale. “Sucks you’re not here with me,” she added
“Sounds pretty homophobic if you ask me,” You quipped with a charming grin, though she couldn't see it. “Should be sitting on your lap right now.” Ellie let out a low sigh, her breath hitching as your words sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. You knew it didn't take much to get her worked up, and perhaps it was the memories from last night that made her even more susceptible to your tease
“Yeah. I’ll be home in four hours.” A soft huff escaped her lips, a subtle sign of her growing impatience and yearning for your touch
“I knowwww,” You drawled, switching your phone to speaker mode as you carefully lifted JJ out of the bath and wrapped him snugly in a warm, fluffy towel. Soft giggles and coos echoed through the room, “I’ll stay up for you,” you told her
“You must be tired, you should go to bed earl-”
“No,” you adamantly insisted, your tone unyielding “I miss you”
“Miss you too,” she responded swiftly, her tone matching yours
“See you soon?”
“Alright, mama, I'll see you soon.” she exhaled. “The sandwich was delicious, by the way,” Ellie adds, gratitude resonating in her words
A proud grin spread across your face as you replied cockily, “You’re welcome,” savoring the compliment on your cooking skills. She had always appreciated it immensely when you cooked for her, and she never wasted a chance to lavish compliments on your culinary skills. God, if she loved you more than anything.
“Love you.”
“Love you.” And with that, you ended the call.
You couldn't help but gaze adoringly at the little burrito in your arms, wrapped up in a beautiful pastel blue towel. The tranquil, content expression on his face spoke volumes of his relaxed state, a peaceful lull radiating from his tiny form. “Daddy’s gonna pick you up soon, let’s get dressed, yeah?” you cooed affectionately, tracing the bridge of his little nose with your index finger, inciting a gummy grin from the cutie as he batted his long lashes at you. You retrieved the bag Jesse had left at your place a few days ago, it was crammed with everything a baby might require and a few extra outfits for JJ. You changed him into a charming giraffe-patterned pjs and wrapped him cozily in a small blanket. Just as you finished, the doorbell rang, signaling Jesse's arrival.
“Howdy!” Jesse stood at your door, visibly exhausted. Wordlessly, you gestured for him to enter the disorganized apartment. His weary eyes immediately settled on the baby in your arms, noting how JJ's eyelids appeared heavy and threatened to flutter shut at any moment. The newborn had been keeping him and Dina up for nights on end, and on top of that, his demanding job had further drained his energy. The stress was evident in his drawn features, making it clear that the past few days had taken a toll on him.
“He was an angel,” you softly told him with a gentle smile.
“Oh really?” his voice held a hint of amusement as he raised his brows in disbelief, marveling at how your description of JJ as a 'complete angel' contradicted his own experience. He couldn't tell if his little one was behaving so well out of genuine good nature or if you were exaggerating the truth a bit cause he could sure be a little troublemaker with him and Dina. “Glad he wasn’t much of a fuss,” he chuckled tiredly.
“I already gave him a bath and all; he’s ready for bed,” you informed him, and he nodded in acknowledgment.
“Thank you, y/n. I owe you one.” A weary sigh escaped his lips. “Mind if I go to the toilet real quick?” he asked.
“No, sure. go ahead”
A subtle change in Jesse's demeanor was evident as he reappeared moments later. His eyes flickered away from yours, and a tense, forced smile adorned his face, giving the impression that something was troubling him.
“You good?” You questioned him, carefully placing the sleeping bean in his arms to avoid waking the little one. A hint of concern tinged your voice as you attempted to discern the reason behind his anxious demeanor. He was fine just a minute ago.
“Yeah, yeah. just tired, is all,” he responded evasively, leaving you to raise an eyebrow in skepticism, but you decided not to dwell on it.
He must be tired, you thought.
Jesse tenderly held his son, cradling him in his strong, protective arms “Thank you again for watching over him”
“I told you, it’s no bother, he’s such a cute kid,” You responded fondly, gently caressing the baby boy's soft, round cheek as he rested contentedly in his father's embrace.
“Alright, have a good night,” he gave you a faint smile
“You too, Jess.” You remained at the doorstep, leaning against it as you watched him leave, his silhouette gradually fading from sight.
When Jesse returned home, he cautiously unlocked the front door, cradling a sleeping JJ in his arm. As he entered, his gaze fell upon Dina, softly snoring on the couch, her mouth slightly parted in peaceful slumber. He watched her for a moment, a tender smile on his lips as he appreciated the sight. Closing the door gently so as not to wake her, he approached her, his footsteps silent on the floor. Seeing her there, asleep as she had waited for him, filled him with warmth and love.
“Honey, I’m home”
The Police station – October 27th, 2018.
Jesse rubbed his eyes with the rough palms of his hands, longing to be home with his family. He absorbed the animated discussions among his colleagues, who were fervently speculating about the identity of the elusive killer. With no substantial evidence to support their theories, their efforts felt akin to chasing a phantom. The killer had a remarkable ability to erase all traces, executing each action with meticulous precision.
“What if he's not left-handed and is good with both hands?” As one of the individuals engaged in the discussion took a contemplative sip of his steaming coffee, Jesse's gaze meandered over to the clock adorning the pristine white brick wall.
2:26 AM.
He should be home, in his bed.
He continued to endure the ceaseless barrage of hypothetical scenarios conjured up by his colleagues. Normally, they wouldn't have been included in such sensitive investigations, but they were frustrated and exhausted from pursuing an elusive individual who appeared to never make any mistakes. There had to be something, but no. No fucking slip-ups.
“The slit starts from right to left, meaning he slayed the first victim—Vanessa—using his left hand,” The woman in her forties leaned back in her swivel office chair, gesturing towards the raw pictures they had taken of the first victim as she explained the details to her coworker.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t add up—Giselle Caddel,” he countered by swiftly sifting through additional files and photographs to substantiate his theory. “See? Left to right.” he softly tapped his index finger on the images and the text printed on the pages that held every necessary information.
The woman let out a frustrated sigh and absentmindedly hummed to herself as she examined the pictures and the papers for the millionth time “Okay, maybe he is dominant with both hands,” she conceded, agreeing with his hypothesis. But again, it didn't make sense how the third victim had been brutalized, shot with an unknown weapon, leaving them with more questions than answers. The lack of registration for the gun only deepened the mystery, leaving them lost on how to proceed.
“Why do we assume we're going after a guy?” Jesse suddenly spoke up, drawing puzzled looks from all his colleagues, who had nearly forgotten he was even there. They gazed at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise, unsure if they had just heard something absurd or brilliant. He couldn't discern the thoughts racing through their minds. But he couldn't help but wonder… was it truly inconceivable for a woman to be capable of committing such a brutal act of violence?
“What are you implying?” dirty blonde brows arched inquisitively, crossing her arms over her chest.
“What if it’s a woman we should be looking for?” he elaborated
“A woman?” She responded with a mix of surprise and mock disbelief, her voice laced with a hint of humor. “Everyone claims they’ve seen a man at each crime scene before the murders occurred,”
“But they’ve never seen ‘his’ face, have they?” He replied with heavy sarcasm, making air quotes while emphasizing the word 'his.'
“Ma’am, we don’t have proof that it is a man,” another coworker pondered the situation and concurred with Jesse's theory.
“He’s too brutal, too raw, too strong. A woman can’t be that strong,” she stated, still skeptical. The detective's thoughts raced through possible motives for the brutal murders. It was difficult to fathom how the female perpetrator could commit such heinous crimes without any apparent remorse. Could there be a common connection between the victims, such as… a shared romantic history with the same individual? The officer's mind was filled with questions, struggling to understand the motivations behind the cold-hearted acts. she pondered, the sinister theory making her stomach turn uncomfortably.
“Adrenaline has that effect on everyone,” he stood his ground, refusing to back down from his idea. The room went silent as the towering blonde woman abruptly stood, drawing a deep breath of air into her lungs.
“You might be onto something,” she declared firmly, her voice carrying a hint of authority. Without further elaboration, she turned and strode out of the investigation room, leaving the officers to grapple with the weight of her words.
He leaned back, feeling the tension ease slightly as she disappeared from view. Perhaps, just perhaps, they were finally on the right track. But even then, uncertainty lingered in the air. They needed tangible evidence, something concrete to confirm their suspicions.
Jesse’s House – November 6th, 2018.
The chill of the night still lingered in the air as Jesse's eyes snapped open, his breath quickening as remnants of a brutal nightmare clung to his consciousness. A sense of disorientation washed over him, but he quickly gathered his bearings, the familiar sights of his surroundings grounding him back to reality.
He was home, he was safe. He mentally reassured himself
Turning his head ever so slightly, he beheld the tranquil scene before him. Dina lay peacefully beside him, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, a serene expression adorning her sleeping face. JJ, nestled between them, let out a soft snore, blissfully unaware of the world around him, tiny hands curled into fists.
With utmost care, Jesse shifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he extracted himself from the warmth of the duvet. The soft material whispered against his skin, a comforting presence in the quiet of the night. As he sat up, a sense of protectiveness washed over him, a silent vow to safeguard the fragile tranquility of the moment. Every rustle of fabric, every creak of the bed frame was muffled by the hush of the night, a sacred stillness enveloping the room like a cocoon. Jesse's gaze lingered on the precious sight before him, the love he felt for his family swelling within his chest; he felt so grateful for them, he would've done anything for them.
He lovingly tucked his wife into bed, her arm instinctively reaching for him in her sleep, seeking the warmth of his presence as it slowly slipped away. Jesse quietly padded to the kitchen, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible in the stillness of the night. Glancing at the clock, he noticed the time and let out an exhausted sigh, the back of his hand moving to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. Opening the cupboards, he reached for a glass, the cool touch of it bringing a sense of relief as he filled it with fresh water, his mouth feeling as dry as the Sahara desert.
It was only 4 AM.
He quickly downed the glass of water, the cool liquid quenching his thirst, before placing it on the granite countertop. This was his usual routine. He was fortunate if he managed to get four hours of sleep, but more often than not, it was only three before he would wake up, haunted by vivid nightmares of the killer, unable to fall back asleep.
As he strolled his way to the living room, he couldn’t help but notice the pillows strewn across the floor and JJ’s countless plush toys scattered in every corner. Dina had a habit of showering JJ with toys, much to Jesse’s bemusement. He didn't need all those toys; a few were sufficient, and most of them were left unused. There was one particular elephant plush that caught the baby boy's attention. He seemed to be incredibly attached to it, never leaving it alone, carrying it around everywhere, and if he ever misplaced it, he would throw a tantrum until Dina found it.
The living room bore silent witness to their daily chaos. JJ’s little kingdom, with plush animals ranging from lions to bears, was a vibrant display of color against the muted tones of the furniture. Jesse picked up a few toys, absentmindedly placing them back in their basket.
He sank into the worn, stained couch, feeling the dampness of the fabric from the water JJ had accidentally spilled earlier. The gentle, barely perceptible hum of the refrigerator filled the air, creating a soothing backdrop to the faint sounds of the city beginning to stir from its slumber. He leaned back, his thoughts drifting. Those were the moments when his mind just wouldn't stop buzzing with thoughts. The relentless pursuit of a cunning killer had started to weigh heavily on his mind, leaving him feeling utterly powerless.
He felt like he was letting everyone down–his family, Dina. It absolutely infuriated him that he couldn't do more to protect them. Especially now that JJ had arrived, his paternal instincts seemed to kick in and his desire to protect his family had intensified, amplifying the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He let his eyes drift aimlessly around the room until they settled on his laptop resting on the scarred coffee table. It was at that moment that a sudden realization popped into his mind.
The missing hard disk.
Jesse’s mind raced as he remembered that day, the rush of events blending together in a haze. He had been at your place and gone to the toilet when he spotted the hard disk tucked away on a shelf. Something about it had struck him as odd. It wasn’t just any brand; it was the exact match to the equipment used at the crime scene. His heart skipped a beat when he realized the potential importance of what he had stumbled upon. He was sure it was just a coincidence 'cause why would you have it? Why would you be possibly hiding it?
It didn't make sense.
He wasn’t proud of slipping it into his pocket, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for doubting you even for a second and for stealing from you. But his instincts told him it was something worth looking into. Now, as he sat there on the couch, the memory of that discovery resurfaced with a new urgency. Something seemed to scream at him to check it, go through all the files, if it had any. So, he got up to grab it from his desk drawers in the small room that Dina had turned into a cozy office just for her husband. It was his own little space, off-limits to everyone else.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, the late-night quiet amplifying the soft clicks as he navigated through files. His hands slightly trembled as he connected the drive to the laptop. The screen flickered to life, and he began sifting through its contents. The hard disk had been gathering dust in his desk drawer for weeks, forgotten in the whirlwind of everyday life. But now, the potential it held was too significant to ignore. What secrets did it hold? What answers might it provide in the tangled web of this investigation?
With a deep breath, he clicked on the first file, hoping it would shine a light on the darkness they had been chasing for so long.
The last files were recorded the same day of the murder.
Jackpot.
He eagerly clicked on the very last file, skipping through a few hours, fast-forwarding past the mundane bustle of customers and staff. His eyes were glued to the timestamp, searching for the crucial moment. The diner’s atmosphere, usually so lively, felt eerie and heavy through the security camera's lens as if it held its breath for the impending doom.
Minutes ticked by in a blur of motion, the clock on the screen edging closer to the time he knew everything changed. Jesse’s fingers ghosted over the keys, ready to pause at any sign of something unusual. The familiar faces of regulars came and went, oblivious to the dark shadow about to come.
And then, there it was. The whole truth.
He watched the video, his eyes never leaving your grainy silhouette. The footage played out silently, no audio, no nothing. He saw the woman with the kid leave the diner, and Vanessa picking up the tip from the table as you stayed behind the counter. His heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation gnawing at him.
Moments later, the mysterious man walked in, his face obscured by a hood, just as you had described. Jesse's pulse quickened, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine, "There he is..." he mumbled to himself. The man's movements were deliberate, his presence unsettling even through the grainy footage.
When the man left, Jesse's focus shifted back to Vanessa as she walked into the back room. You swiftly made your way to the front door, turning the sign to ‘closed’ and locking the doors with a practiced motion. His eyes followed you intensely as you walked back behind the counter, your actions precise and unwavering.
There was something almost poetic in the way you moved, a quiet determination that made his breath hitch. He watched as you retrieved a knife, the gleaming blade catching the dim light of the diner. With a sense of purpose, you followed Vanessa into the back room.
"No, no, no, no," he kept whispering over and over again, like some sort of prayer.
Jesse's mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together—it all felt surreal, as if he were watching a scene from a movie rather than real life.
The footage left him cold and shaking to the core. He felt a knot in his stomach. How could the woman he once knew as a kind-hearted soul be a serial killer? How could he have trusted a killer, a psychopath, all along? Fear rippled through his veins as he realized the danger he had exposed his son and wife to. He knew he had to act to bring this evidence to his team, but he needed to get Ellie first.
She needed to get out of that goddamn house immediately.
Without a moment to spare, he grabbed his jacket and his gun and swiftly left his home. He then drove hastily to Ellie's place, frantically calling her repeatedly, but she never picked up even though he was sure she was off her shift and definitely home.
“Ellie? Fuck, Ellie, answer your fucking phone! You home yet? You need to get out of there, man. Pleas-” His voice quivered, his clammy hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. His nerves were palpable as fear and anxiety coursed through his veins
“Please, if you’re listening to this, get out of that fucking house, don’t tell y/n anything. She’s not who you think she is. She is extremely dangerous. Call me ba-” Jesse's frustration heightened as the beep signified the end of the voicemail, “FUCK” he shouted, slamming his hand onto the steering wheel.
Your Apartment, 5:06 AM – November 6th, 2018.
When he finally arrived at the apartment building, he quickly bounded towards the door, rapping against it frantically. Ellie opened the door, a puzzled expression on her face. Jesse sighed, relief washing over him as he saw Ellie safe and sound.
“My fucking god, are you–are you alright?” his tone was agitated as he spoke, though Ellie appeared confused, chuckling softly in response.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, scarred brows arched in confusion as she struggled to comprehend the reason behind her friend's agitated demeanor, making an unexpected appearance at her doorstep at such an ungodly hour
“Look, we gotta go, you’re not safe” He urgently grabbed her arm, attempting to forcefully pull her out of her house but she was quick to snatch her arm away from his grasp, her annoyance evident.
Surprise, concern, and annoyance colored Ellie's face as she exclaimed, “What’s gotten into you, dude?”
Your wife is a serial killer, he wanted to shout at her, exposing you for the monster you were, but he knew better. He knew that Ellie would struggle to believe him if he presented it bluntly, attacking what she cared about the most, so he needed to tread carefully and it felt like walking on legos, not even eggshells. He couldn’t risk Ellie getting mad at him or, even worse–shutting the door in his face. If something happened to her, the guilt would haunt him forever.
“You have an idea of what time it is?” Her emeralds darted towards the clock on the living room wall for a brief second—nearly 5 am.
“Look, we don’t have time for-” he began to speak, suddenly struck silent as his friend turned around for a fleeting moment “Is y/n home?” He inquired with a concerned expression, his complexion noticeably paler than usual. His hands trembled as he nervously peered over Ellie's shoulder, desperate to catch a glimpse of you, but the auburnette blocked his way, shaking her head.
“No, why?” Her voice was calm and composed, a stark contrast to his agitated and tumultuous tone
“I’ve been calling you, where the fuck is your phone?”
“It died,” she responded curtly, running her fingers through her hair, a thoughtful expression crossing her face, lips pressing together. “Wanna explain to me what the fuck are you on?” her hands were firmly placed on her hips; her attentive eyes fixated on Jesse's agitated state—the furrowed brows, clenched fists, and the restlessness emanating from him. Pretty unusual.
“We need to go; I’ll explain everything on the way,” his voice tinged with a mix of desperation and urgency that Ellie had never heard from him. He tugged at her sweatshirt, but she didn't budge, retreating a step backward, distancing herself from him. She let out a deep sigh before reluctantly acquiescing to his request.
“Let me get my stuff first,” she said, disappearing inside, leaving his restless figure waiting on the doorstep.
He waited and waited and waited, the minutes stretching into what felt like an eternity. With each passing second, a gnawing sense of unease began to take hold. "Ellie?" he called out impatiently, his voice slicing through the silence, but there was no response.
"Ellie?" he tried again, louder this time, the name echoing eerily through the empty apartment. Still nothing. He let out a shaky exhale, feeling the tension coil tighter in his chest. His hand hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open wider, revealing more of the still and silent space. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath, his pulse quickening. Reaching for his gun, he stepped inside cautiously, every sense on high alert.
The living room was eerily quiet, devoid of any signs of life. He moved through it slowly, each step deliberate and measured. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any clue, any hint of where his friend might be. Nothing. His gaze flickering to the pictures hanging on the wall, captured moments of joy and celebration, memories of your wedding day, now seeming almost like relics from another lifetime.
“...Ellie?” he called out again, his voice softer now, almost a plea. The word hung in the air, unanswered, as he continued his careful sweep of the apartment. He checked the kitchen and the bathroom—his mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. It was as if Ellie had simply vanished into thin air. His grip tightened on the gun, the cold metal reassuring in his hand, the silence almost oppressive, pressing in on him from all sides.
Just as he made his way back to the living room, standing in the center of the room, trying to think clearly, a loud thump reverberated through the hallway, and before he could react, his body crumpled to the floor. Lifeless. Blood began to pool beneath him, a dark and viscous river flowing from the neat, round hole between his eyes.
You were humming a soft tune as you turned off the water, stepping out of the box shower and reaching for the towel hung nearby. The bathroom air was cool, and the contrast with your damp skin made you shiver, goosebumps rising in a wave across your arms and legs. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as the chill settled in.
You froze momentarily, ears perking up when you heard the unmistakable sound of the door shutting loudly from the living room. It wasn’t a sound you were expecting, and a flicker of unease sparked in your chest.
Did she leave the house without telling you?
Quickly, you wrapped the towel around your body, the soft fabric absorbing the droplets that still clung to your skin. You could feel them running in rivulets, leaving trails down your back and legs.
Leaving the bathroom, your bare feet left wet footsteps on the floor, as you made your way towards the living room, you began to hear strange, muffled noises—something between a rustle and a low murmur. Your heartbeat quickened, thudding loudly in your ears. The apartment was usually a sanctuary, but now it felt different, charged with an unfamiliar tension.
“El?” you called out, your voice tentative as it broke the silence. You listened intently, but heavy silence was all you got in response.
It was only when you stood by the doorframe of the living room that you saw her knelt down on the floor. You found yourself unable to move, every muscle tensed as if you were being turned to stone by the piercing gaze of Medusa herself. Her eyes were ice cold, piercing right through you, as Jesse's body lay lifeless at her feet. The sight of his still form and the pool of blood around him made your stomach churn.
Ellie stood abruptly, her movement sudden and jarring. Your smooth forehead creased into a furrow, the lines forming a delicate map of concern, both of you staring at each other without daring to say a word. The silence stretched out, thick and suffocating, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears. Your grip tightened on the towel, knuckles white with tension, as you stepped forward
“Right on the fucking rug?!” you burst out, your voice raising slightly. Ellie winced, the sharpness of your tone cutting through the tension.
“Baby, I’m sor—” she began, but you harshly cut her off, marching closer to her, careful not to step on the warm crimson liquid staining the fluffy white rug.
“You better fucking scrub that shit clean,” you snapped, pointing your finger at her, eyes narrowing. Your gaze shifted to the lifeless body of Jesse, lying awkwardly with a dark, spreading pool beneath him.
Despite the gruesome sight, you felt a strange calm; you knew there was a reason behind her actions; there always was. And you trusted her to death, so no questions were asked, the only thing that bothered you was the thought of having to throw away your favorite carpet of the house.
Ellie nodded vigorously at your demand, her face a mask of determination. You could see the guilt and resolve warring in her eyes, but you knew she would handle it.
“Look,” she mumbled, her voice steady as she knelt down, reaching into Jesse’s jeans pocket. She pulled out a small hard drive, leaving bloody fingerprints on it.
“Ah shit,” you cursed, snatching it from her stained hands. The tiny data storage device felt deceptively light in your palm, its importance weighing heavily on your mind. “Wonder when he stole it,” you mumbled, turning the hard drive over, examining it closely.
“He had always been a sneaky little bitch,” she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked his thigh, her pretty features scrunched up in anger. The casual violence of the gesture made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jesse had been a liability, a snake in the grass.
“Do you think he told anyone else?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Fear flickered in your eyes, the thought of getting caught sending a wave of nausea through you. You couldn’t risk that; no, no, you couldn’t.
Ellie shook her head, reassuring you, “he came here as soon as he found out—left a bunch of voicemails,” she explained. You exhaled slowly, a weight lifting from your shoulders. Relief washed over you; no one else would find out. The bond between you felt stronger than ever. She had always been there for you, protecting you no matter what, hiding evidence you clumsily left behind.
You stood by her side, looking down at the mess she had made. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Both of you were lost in your own worlds, your thoughts racing in different directions, her mind already strategizing the next steps while your own thoughts swirled in another direction.
“I really want a baby” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, a soft pout forming on your lips. She turned towards you, her face breaking into a brilliant smile that illuminated the dimly lit room.
At that moment, her emerald eyes shimmered with a newfound glimmer, a blend of delight and astonishment that took your breath away, feeling a fluttering in her stomach. “Fuck- are you forreal?”
You nod your head slightly, unable to contain the matching smile that formed on your own lips “Yes, I thought abou-” you started to explain, but before you could finish, bloody hands moved in a swift motion, pulling you closer by the waist.
Her lips pressed against yours, the kiss urgent and full of emotion. You melted into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her even closer. Your fingers tangled in her ember-hued locks, the softness of her hair contrasting with the gritty reality of the moment. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the overwhelming sense of connection and the shared excitement of a future you both wanted. Ellie's grip on your waist tightened, her hands staining the pink fabric of the towel still wrapped around your body.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you rested your forehead against hers. The room around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared dreams and possibilities.
No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be
The only one for me is you, and you for me
So happy together-
"Alexa, shut it," you commanded, pulling a giggle out of Ellie, her cheeks heating up with a pink hue that only added to her beauty. Your thumb gently stroked her cheekbone, and her slender fingers reached out to teasingly play with the towel still clinging to your body, their silken touch sending a shiver down your spine as they danced along the contours of the soft fabric.
"I was thinking…" she began slowly and sultrily, a mischievous smirk adorning her face, "How about we keep tryin’ for that baby?" Her tone was innocent, almost as if she were asking you to play a simple game of cards.
"You spoke my mind," you replied, pressing a quick peck on her smirk. Her hands quickly moved down to your butt, making you jump in her arms and wrap your legs around her waist.
Your soft giggle was interrupted by her lips once again, kissing you passionately, and her hands, strong yet tender, held you securely. You could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric and the cool air of the room contrasting deliciously with your heated skin, making you shiver. Her lips moved with an urgency that matched your own, she was starved, she needed more.
You pulled back for a breath, your foreheads resting together. Her eyes, filled with love and desire, searched yours. "I love you," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.
You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I love you more."
With a shared laugh, she carried you towards the bedroom, your bodies intertwined and hearts beating in unison, falling in love with each other all over again.
No one would ever come between you, and no one would ever know what had happened here. Ellie had your back, and you had hers. Always.
I can't see me lovin' nobody but you
For all my life
taglist: @aouiaa
#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x you#lesbianism#the last of us 2#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams tlou#the last of us part 2#tlou2#dina nolastname#dina woodward#dina the last of us#dina tlou#tlou jesse#jesse the last of us#lesbian#wlw#sapphic#lgbt nsft#ellie smut#ellie tlou2#tlou ellie#ellie tlou x reader
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Ayayui date♡
// I'm not sure why, but I suddenly got a burst of creativity. There's no special occasion for this post; it was really just an excuse to edit Yui in my favorite Princess Collection outfit. I like how the merch line was released right on Ayato’s birthday, so I really wanted to see an Ayayui date in those outfits! 😌💕
I was in the mood to write a special scenario again. You just have to click on ‘Keep reading’ to find it. This one is set after the LE events, particularly after the After Story, so I hope you enjoy it! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
Ayato: Haa… finally!
After all this time, I’ve managed to sort out every single problem in the Demon World.
Geez, I’m gladly taking a break!
( Ever since I became king, I’ve been buried in an endless pile of documents—so many that I’ve grown sick just being in that place. Things seem to be getting better in the Demon World, though I’d lie to say it’s perfectly stable. )
( Well, whatever. I shouldn’t bother too much about that… for now. )
( Right now, all I can think about is her. Ugh, these stupid king duties have kept us apart for way too long. I’m sure she must’ve felt really lonely, huh…? )
( Damn it! That was never my intention, but I know it must be boring as hell to be stuck in the castle all day by yourself. )
( That’s why, I’m definitely going to make it up to her today and take her somewhere nice~! )
Place: Their room
Ayato: Chi-chi-na-shi, guess who’s ba—
( Hah!? She’s not here? )
Oi, Yui!
( She’s still not answering? )
Yui, where are yo—
???: Ayato-kun..!
— hugs his back —
Ayato: What the—!
Yui: Fufu, sorry for taking you off guard. I was just thrilled to see Ayato-kun again!
Ayato: Geez, next time I call you, answer me, understood? You’re still in the Demon World, anything could happen when no one’s around, y’know?
Yui: Ah… I’m sorry for being careless. I hope I didn’t make you worry…
Ayato: No need to sulk now. What matters the most is that you’re alright.
Now… about the thing you’re wearing. Where the heck did you even get it from? It’s the first time I’ve seen you in it.
Yui: Oh, actually I bought it last time we went shopping together. You see… I didn’t show it to you back then because I wanted it to be a surprise, but uuh… does it not suit me?
Ayato: Haa… normally, when a woman wants to surprise her man, she wears lingerie or something sexy, but I’ll forgive you this time. Why? Because you look hella cute in that, can’t deny.
— Yui blushes —
Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you! I’m really happy…!
Ayato: ( Is she seriously almost on the verge of tears for that? )
C-C’mon, don’t get all emotional over every little thing. The date hasn’t even started yet! You really want people to see you with red eyes and puffy cheeks outside?
— Yui shakes head —
Ayato: Good, now let’s go!
— He takes her hand —
Place: Kaminashi City
Ayato: Can’t believe I’m gonna say this but I somehow missed this place.
Yui: Is that so? I thought Ayato-kun didn’t like the Human World.
Ayato: I don’t mind either of them, but right now I’m sick of the Demon World. If I see one more document, I will end up throwing up on the spot.
Yui: Ayato-kun…
( That’s right, he’s been working a lot ever since he became king. I’m sure it must truly be tiring spending days in front of all those documents. )
I’m glad you put a lot of effort in your role, but take it easy, okay? I can’t do much in this situation, yet… If you ever need help, I want to be there to support you!
Ayato: Hmm… anyway. I’m not here to talk about work again. I just want us to enjoy some time together for once.
Yui: ( Ayato-kun really sounds exhausted… He’s matured so much these past few months, which isn’t bad, but I just wish he could relax a little. )
Then, let’s make the best of this day!
— tugs onto his arm and starts walking —
*Timeskip*
Yui: Haa… it’s way better outside.
( Ayato-kun is still waiting to pay for our things, but it was way too hot in that store, so he told me to get some fresh air. )
( Now that I think about it, vampires are always cold, so I doubt the heat bothers him as much as it does me, right? Even so, seeing him care about my comfort makes me really happy. )
— warm breeze hits —
Yui: Mm… so ni—
— something suddenly hits her —
Yui: Kyah! What on earth was that!?
Eh? That’s—
Familiar: Greetings. Pardon my interruption, but could it be that you are Komori Yui-sama?
Yui: ( ‘Sama’? Uuh… I feel like that’s an exaggeration. )
Yes, I am. Did anything happen…?
Familiar: Rest assured, there is no need for alarm. My purpose here is simply to entrust this to your care. Unable to find Ayato-sama, I must rely on you to deliver him this letter.
— Yui takes it —
Yui: But, what’s this letter about?
If it’s possible to tell, of course.
Familiar: In essence, a new set of documents has been prepared for Ayato-sama. Please inform him at your earliest convenience, as his return is eagerly anticipated.
Yui: Wait! Does it mean that he really has to return now—!
( Oh no! The familiar is already gone! )
( To think that Ayato-kun was finally starting to relax again… )
( All this letter will do is ruin his day, that’s for sure. )
( But at the same time, not showing it to him… that would undoubtedly get him in troubles. )
( Uuh… This situation is so complicated. What should I do…? )
Ayato: Chichinashi!!!
Yui: ….!
— suddenly hides the letter —
A-Ah, Ayato-kun, you’re back!
Ayato: Duh, and I kept calling your name but it seems you only answer to Chi-chi-na-shi~.
— He starts pinching her cheeks —
Yui: Whey dwont, staphh!
Ayato: Hehe, that’s what you get for spacing out and ignoring me.
Anyway, you weren’t approached by any creeps, were you?
Yui: N-No, not at all!
Ayato: Hmm… that doesn’t sound too honest. Are you lying?
Yui: No way! I… I’m just hungry and my stomach won’t stop growling, which is really embarrassing…
Ayato: Haa… you never change. Always getting embarrassed over everything, but no worries, I didn’t hear anything. Though, if you’re really that hungry, I guess we could get something to eat.
Yui: Y-Yeah, that sounds great!
* Timeskip *
Yui: ( After the restaurant, we went to the mall, then back to the center. Ayato-kun… we walked a lot today, but instead of getting tired, he just got more and more energetic. )
( I suppose he was really in need of this break, so maybe hiding that letter wasn’t entirely bad, no…? Still, I’ll have to give it to him today, otherwise I’ll surely put him at risk… )
Ayato: Oi Yui, look!
Yui: W-Woah! I’ve never seen such big Takoyaki before!
Ayato: Heh, right? It’s even bigger than the ones from the Demon World!
Also, Ore-sama got you this, so I better see you eat it all.
Yui: Eh-? This is such a big donut! T-There’s no way I could eat all of it!
Ayato: So you’re refusing my donut? You’re way too ungrateful for a Chichinashi. Well, in that case, I guess you don’t need it any—
Yui: No, no, the donut is good!
— starts eating it —
Come to think of it, today you’ve spoiled me quite a lot, Ayato-kun.
Ayato: And why would that be bad? I thought women liked that.
Yui: It’s not bad, but I really didn’t do anything special. You’re the one who’s been working all day and night, for this reason I believe you deserve this treatment more.
Ayato: Haa… getting all self-conscious, just like always.
Look, you know I’m not good at sentimental shit, but after everything we’ve been through, your presence is special enough for me.
I guess I just want to cherish you, that’s all.
Yui: Ayato-kun… I feel the——
A-Ah, oh no!
( The chocolate… it melted on my hand! )
I-I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!
— tries to stand up —
Ayato: Nah, nah. C’mere.
— grabs her and sits her on his lap —
Yui: Wait, don’t!
— he starts licking her hand —
Yui: A-Ayato-kun, stop it! We’re in public…!
Ayato: Mnn… Mm…
— slowly bites —
Yui: Uuh…
( At this rate, people will definitely start watching!)
— starts moving —
Ayato: Tch, you’re making this way too hard for both! Just stay still and stop acting like I’m about to kill you!
Yui: ( I know his intentions aren’t bad, but this is getting too embarrassing…! )
( I’m sorry, Ayato-kun! )
— tries to push him away but falls down —
Yui: Oww…
Ayato: ( Geez, what a klutz. )
Haa… are you hurt?
— grabs her arm and picks her up —
Yui: Ah, I’m alright, no worries.
Ayato: Oi.
What’s that?
— picks something up —
Yui: ….!
Ayato: Is that… a letter for me?
— starts reading it —
You… you had it all this time with you and didn’t say a word?!
Yui: I… I can explain!
You see, I thought—
Ayato: Shut up!
Do you even have the slightest clue about what you just did!? I seriously doubt you understand how important king duties are, do you?
Hah, of course, you don’t! Why would you?
You sit around doing absolutely nothing all day while I’m working my ass off to make sure you and everyone else can live comfortably!
I’m out here putting in the effort, grinding to create a decent life, not just for you, but for everyone, even if I didn’t ask for this shit. And you do this to me!?
I thought you matured too, but at the end of the day, you’re nothing but a selfish bitch!
Yui: Wait! Ayato-ku—
Ayato: Don’t touch me!
Yui: …!
Please, listen to me!
— grabs his clothes —
Ayato: Quiet! I’m not risking to go through that again only because of someone like you. Get lost!
— pushes her away and leaves —
Yui: …!
No… No… this can’t be the end…
How… How could I be this stupid…? Hhn… Ngh…
Kuh… Ayato-kun.. Nhn…
Place: Avenue
Ayato: (Fuck! I can’t return to the Demon World right now. )
( On top of that, why the hell am I the one feeling guilty now!? )
( She… Yes, she deserved that treatment. That’s what she gets for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Besides, what she did could lead to something dangerous. )
( It’s not the first time she pulls such shit on me anyway, but… )
( Why can’t I stay mad at her no matter what she does to me…? )
Tch, such bullsh— Hah?
Guy 1: Aww, she’s playing hard to get~!
Guy 2: Aren’t you a bit too feisty for a crybaby?
???: S-Stop it! Leave me alone!
Ayato: …!
( That voice… Yui! )
Place: Alley
Yui: I-I told you to stop!
Guy 1: Just come with us, it’ll be fun~.
Yui: No, I don’t want to!
Guy 2: She keeps struggling, isn’t she cu——
— gets punched —
Guy 1: What the—
Guy 2: Such strength!
Yui: Eh?
Ayato: Get out of my sight, you bastards! If you don’t leave this girl alone right now, I’ll make sure your already disgusting faces get even worse!
— they start running away —
Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you!
( He came back for me… )
Ayato: ….
— grabs her hand and starts walking —
*Timeskip*
Yui: ( Ever since Ayato-kun saved me, he hasn’t spoken a word. )
( It’s obvious that he’s mad… )
( But if both of us keep quiet, this conflict will never be solved… )
Ayato & Yui simultaneously: I’m sorry.
Yui: ( Eh? Did he just— )
No… I’m the one who should apologize. I hid that letter, knowing full well the consequences it could have.
However… I only did it because I wanted Ayato-kun to have some free time for himself too.
Ayato: You…
Yui: I’m aware of how much work you have to do, and being king is definitely not easy. That’s why, I really admire your for that.
Nevertheless, it saddens me seeing Ayato-kun so stressed out and exhausted. I want Ayato-kun to be always as energetic and cheerful as he was today, but… I do realize that I’m just being selfish.
Ayato: No… You… You’re not selfish, I am.
I was the one who didn’t listen to your side of the story. It’s just... I’m afraid of failing as king. There, I said it!
I don’t want to put the people I care for in danger, nor can’t I accept being a worse king than that old fart, so all I have to do is carry out my duties. Hell yeah, they’re a pain in the ass but that’s my responsibility now, which is why I can’t back off.
Yui: ( Ayato-kun… I never thought you felt that way… )
N-no, the way you reacted was understandable. Anyone under that much stress might have done the same, and I can’t blame you for it.
Besides, I can’t say your words were wrong. I am indeed incapable of fully understanding the challenges you face, however… no matter what happens, I want you to know that you’ll always be the best king to me…!
Ayato: …!
Heh… you really never change.
— hugs her—
Yui: W-Well, I suppose I can’t change if I do nothing all day.
Ayato: Hmph, are you throwing shade at me for what I told you?
Yui: Eh? No way, it was just a coincidence! I swear!
Ayato: Pfft, proved my point. You'll forever stay the clumsy, stupid, and oddly adorable woman that you are.
Yui: Hey, that’s backhan— Mm…!
Ayato: Nn…
Yui: ( Ayato-kun… his kiss is so gentle… )
( I really missed Ayato-kun’s kisses. I’m so happy…! )
Ayato: Oi, don’t tell me you’re about to cry again.
Yui: I’m not but…
I just want to know, will the letter get Ayato-kun in troubles…?
Ayato: I might get some weird looks for not showing up on time, and maybe a lecture or two, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I was supposed to start on them today since there’s a lot, but... I think I’d rather spend my time with my girl instead.
Yui: Is that so? Thank you.
But doesn't that mean you'll have to work even harder to make up for today?
Ayato: I guess it can’t be helped. I don’t want to think of tomorrow, all I want is to focus on the present.
Yui: Fufu, I see. By the way…
Will you uhm… stay overnight too?
Ayato: Heh~? Is that supposed to be a sex invitation?
Yui: I… T-That’s—!
Ayato: Heh~, don’t even try to get out of it, it’s written all over your face.
Rest assured though, the invitation is accepted~.
— Smooch —
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Hello, It's Plato. I am making this post to provide additional context on the accusations for those who do not use Twitter. As you saw from @bezierballad 's apology, the screenshots were all faked. But there's more proof I wanted to add that they did not include. I'm sure many of you have already heard this on Twitter, so my apologies for the repetition. These are just the main points I want to get out.
Zex, the creator of the screenshots, has been caught in several lies.
According to the time stamps in the fake screenshots, it would have been impossible for the messages to have come from the server where they claimed the conversation took place. Charlie left in 2023, Zex joined in 2024, and the screenshots were all marked "today." They also can't be old screenshots because Zex and Charlie were not on the server at the same time.
When asked to provide message IDs, Zex said that they had already left the server (where they claimed to have obtained the screenshots from). However, as of right now, they are still on the server. They will be promptly removed once a moderator wakes up.
Charlie and I's nicknames from the screenshots are not nicknames or pfps we ever had in the server they supposedly came from. These nicknames were exclusive to a 7-person group chat. The only reason Zex knew of them was because of a screenshot I posted a month or two ago. It would have been much more believable if they had used our actual usernames.
(Edit) Something I forgot to add- when Zex was questioned about how they got onto the server, they said they pretended to be a proshipper and DMd me for the link to the server where they took the screenshots. However, I haven't been active in that server lately, and I never sent anyone any server links within the past 6 months.
How were the screenshots faked?
There are two likely scenarios. One being that they were generated by a bot. There are *many* services out there that will generate fake discord texts. OR they used an alt account or friend to "roleplay" Charlie and I thirsting over Charlie's non-existent 5yo cousin. Which is infinitely worse.
So, who really is Zex, and what was their motive?
The easiest explanation regarding motive is just that they wanted to make proshippers look bad. This is pretty typical anti behavior. Charlie and I could have been selected at "random" as we are two bigger sebaciel accounts. But there might actually be more to it.
Now, from this point forward, we are stepping outside the realm of fact and inside the realm of educated guesses. There exists a person who has serious grudges against me, Charlie, and Bezier. Only one person who we are aware of. This individual is a proshipper with a history of going undercover as an anti to stir up trouble and a history of faking screenshots to make antis look bad.
This person was also in the server where the original confession/accusation was made.
They had deleted their account prior to the confession. Zex is actually a new account that only joined the anti server (where the confession was made) yesterday. They basically came into the server just to make this accusation. Pretty suspicious. It's likely that Zex, in an attempt to ruin Charlie and I's reputation as revenge for us ruining theirs, created these screenshots. As seen in the posts by Bezier, Zex asked them to make a post because they didn't want to deal with the repercussions. Zex knows these screenshots are fake, and they also know that people will eventually figure it out. So, if their attempt to frame us didn't work, at least they'd be able to ruin Beziers reputation. Or perhaps even all three, if people were more divided and hadn't come to a consensus. Please keep in mind that there is no evidence that the individual with the grudge and history of faked screenshots and causing drama is actually Zex. However, it is seeming more and more likely.
Anyway. This has been a very tiring day. I am grateful to Bezier for taking down the OP and writing an apology. And as for Zex- I will likely be taking legal action against them.
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in this life or the next
summary: It's the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games, and you were just unlucky enough to get picked; but lucky enough for this Quarter Quell to feature pre-selected teams. You get paired up with District One's pride and joy, the one and only Rafe Cameron.
pairing: rafe x fem!reader
wc: 15k (oh my LORD)
tags/warnings: its the hunger games so like... yeah... violence and gore and stuff. definitely swearing, spoilers for the og Hunger Games movie I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), reader has a special talent that i won't spoil here, Rafe is lowkey a dick at the beginning, Ward being a shitty dad (what's new). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. its 15k words and i'm lazy.
masterlists // nav // requests
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a/n: hello lovelies!! oh my gosh i have been slowly chipping away at this for actual literal months, and i am so proud of how it turned out!! i’m really glad i could finally post it by my birthday!! (i’m 23 wtf??)
thank you so much if you're going to put in the time to read this, but it honestly means a lot to me that you've made it this far. reblogs and likes would be so appreciated and let me know your thoughts in the replies! i really, really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. let me know if you want a part two of what happens post games, bc i think i left it at a minor baby sized cliffhanger. anyway, i’m off to eat cake now! enjoy!
Staring blankly out at the crowd in front of you, you attempt to process the echoing of your heartbeat in your ears.
"I'd like us to give a round of applause for our brave, brave tributes this year, and wish them the best of luck in this year's quarter quell!" Your attention is drawn to the woman next to you, the District Five escort, Opal, dressed head to toe in bright yellow. A universally happy color- what a joke.
The crowd is mostly silent and you can't bear the thought of even glancing in the direction of your parents. You turn silently as you're ushered back into the building from the stage, tripping slightly over your feet as the shock sets in. People are talking, possibly to you, but you can hardly hear a thing. You almost made it. You were almost eighteen- one more year and you would have been free.
You were granted the briefest of goodbyes to your family, but you were tempted to even turn that down. An action you regret not taking as your parents walk into the room, your mother with tears already coating her cheeks and your father trying to keep a strong resolve for you and your siblings.
"We'll see you soon, Bug. Remember we love you," He whispers into your hair as you sob into his shoulder. You know he doesn't necessarily mean in this lifetime.
Your tunnel vision settles back in as you're walked out of the room, glancing one last time over your shoulder only to see your dad's shoulders shaking from his silent cries as he turns his back to you.
You are quickly pushed onto the train taking you out of District Five, ignoring the other three tributes and your mentors as they talk. You just stare out the window with tired, red eyes and say a silent goodbye to the home you're already sure you'll never see again.
"Y/N..?" The girl next to you says, tapping you on the shoulder and making you jump.
"Hm?" You hum your acknowledgment, looking at the girl beside you. She's only a year older than you, and you went to school together for years; Maisie, you remember.
"I just wanted to make sure you hear them," Maisie whispers, gesturing to Opal as she starts to explain what the premise of the games is this year.
"So," she claps her hands together, clad in tacky yellow gloves. "I'm sure you have noticed that this year there are four of you, and you'll each be paired up with another tribute to compete. Not necessarily from your own District, but, anything is possible, I suppose. The exciting news is that there's a possibility for two winners this year! You and your teammate will be given a score throughout the games, and if your score as the final two is above ten, you will both be crowned victors!" The woman says excitedly- like it's a good thing.
"And if we don't have over ten?" The boy sitting across from you asks flatly.
"Well... the games shall continue," Opal explains vaguely, but you know what that means. You've seen it before.
"Okay, well, how do we get a good score?" The boy asks.
"I-" The escort starts, hesitance clear in her tone as she's quickly interrupted.
"You kill people," Your female mentor answers. She's leaning her elbows on the end of the table, standing with a knife in her hand, spinning it around like it's some kind of toy.
Your eyes drop from her form, staring down at the table in front of you, suddenly remembering your glass of water and quickly grabbing it when you realize your mouth has gone completely dry just from the idea of what's to come.
You arrive at the Capitol in the middle of the night and despite this fact, the crowds are still there. You didn't expect this, even though you've seen it on the beat-up television in your living room every year. It feels less real, somehow, when you're the one getting pushed through the crowd, not knowing what to do besides give awkward smiles to people yelling your name.
Your room is beautiful. You've never seen anything like this, but you can fully customize it at will with a remote, and this level of technology fascinates you. You spend hours flicking through different images that can appear on the walls, surrounding you in another world. Exhaustion and the sound of an artificial thunderstorm put you to sleep with the remote still resting in your palm.
"Up, up, up, my dear! We've got a big day ahead!" Opal's cheery voice startles you awake from your less-than-cozy spot on the floor. "There's breakfast on the table then we've got to get you down to prep, so hurry up, please." She says, and just like that she's gone, no doubt off to wake the other District Five tributes in a similar fashion.
"You're going to be meeting your teammates for the first time today so you can train together- gosh isn't that just so exciting!" Opal claps as you all stand in the elevator. There's a silence that follows as you and Maisie just nod, not excited about the whole idea. You're about to meet someone who will either be spending the last days of your life with you, or be killing you themselves, and you're not fond of either.
"This way you'll get to train together first, which I do believe to be a very generous act on behalf of the game makers." She adds, making you roll your eyes. How considerate. The most you can hope for is someone who is capable, and preferably someone who isn't in the twelve to fifteen age range, having seen that there were several drawn from different districts.
You shift on your feet as you try to adjust to the uncomfortably tight catsuit they squeezed you into, covered in what must be sapphire and diamond rhinestones, pinching your skin with every slight movement. Gold accents line the seams of the suit, extending out into something that resembles wings and lightning bolts protruding from your back. District Five; power. You get it, but we're the diamonds necessary? You hardly take note of the varying outfits you're surrounded with from the other kids in your district, before Opal is guiding the four of you up the line of extravagant carriages you're meant to parade out on for the people of the Capitol to fawn over.
You take note of where all of the other tributes from Five are lead, guessing based on the order of carriages that Maisie got paired up with another girl from Eleven, and the boys somehow ended up paired together. There must be some sort of personal aspect to this decision, considering you have watched those two boys fight back home. You're last, and Opal looks at you excitedly as you follow her up, and up, and up- to the very front of the line.
"Surprise!" She grins, clapping excitedly as you approach the very first carriage. "Y/N, getting paired with a career is huge. Your odds are good already, your partner has trained his whole life- he even volunteered."
"Sucks for him." You mutter under your breath as you get closer, eyeing up the boy in front of you, wearing an almost matching outfit. All the rhinestones make sense now, blending power with luxury could only mean as much.
"Y/N Y/L/N, meet Rafe Cameron. He'll be your teammate in the games." She smiles as she introduces you.
"Hi." You say quietly, taking his hand as he holds it out to you to help you up onto the carriage.
"Hey." He mutters, avoiding your gaze. It's off to a rough start for him for sure, seeing he's being paired up with someone from an outlying district must be daunting, when for you it should be exciting. Rafe did volunteer, yes, but he doesn't want to risk any kind of attachment- despite what the people of the Capitol want for their entertainment. He wants to come out alive, he doesn't care so much about who he's with.
"Okay, Y/N, remember to smile, please." Opal reminds you and you nod, looking down at her as you hold onto the handle in front of you.
You promise her with a nod, willing to do almost anything at this point to win the favour of possible sponsors. Again, your odds look better next to a career on that front, as well.
Quickly everyone is cleared away from the horses and the carriages and you start moving, catching you off guard and you stumble a little, readjusting your grip on the railing. "Careful." Rafe says beside you, quick to reach out to steady you if you needed it. You think you see the smallest of smiles on his face, but that must have just been your own mind trying to find comfort in anything around you.
"I got it." You whisper, blushing slightly. You've been with your teammate for all of a minute, and you're already proving yourself to be clumsy.
The lights hit your eyes the same time all the cheering does, being the first carriage, it's already so loud you can hardly hear yourself think. You snap out of it quickly, plastering on a smile once you see your own face on a giant screen ahead of you, you don't even look like yourself anymore. Your eyes land on the screen adjacent to the one showing you, seeing Rafe as well. He's smiling too, clearly having headed Opal's advice, or his many years of training is getting to him and he's excited. You really don't know. Then his head turns, and you turn your head as well, making dead eye contact with him for only a moment before he's looking past you into the crowds, taking in the moment.
When you finally get out of the extremely public eye and back into the building you exited from, you feel like you can finally breathe again. Not fully, in the tight, rigid suit they had you dressed up in, but more than you realized you were with all that yelling in your ears and lights in your face.
"District Five, right?" Rafe asks you as you're both stepping down and you nod. "Jeez, you don't talk much, do you?" He follows up with, taking a water bottle from someone who's walking by with them.
"I talk." You reply quietly. "Just... not much to talk about at the moment."
"The shock? Yeah, that'll do it." He nods, taking a sip from the water bottle and holding it out to you. You shake your head and push it away, making him shrug. "Shitty bust when you're not a volunteer."
You just stare at him, taken off guard by the comment. "That being said..." He leans in closer to make sure no one else hears. "I've been waiting my whole life for this, so don't ruin it for me, yeah?"
You pull back away from him and just nod again, not wanting to get on his bad side already. He won't be the one to kill you, probably, but it would still be nice if you spent your final days without your teammate hating your guts. "Thanks, darling." He smirks, patting your shoulder and brushing past you to go to the elevators.
The next day, bright and early yet again, you have your first day of training. You're sure Rafe won't even need it, but you certainly will. Your mentor told you he will likely be using it to size up the other tributes, especially considering there is a staggering amount of them this year, and you will need to focus on survival skills. Only survival skills, if you had to pick one thing- and your mentor drove that into your head until it was all that was echoing in your mind when you entered the training center.
After the trainers speech which ironically tried to do the same thing, you beeline straight for the fire making station. You're shocked to see almost no one else listened, definitely none of the boys, mostly lining up to show off their physical strengths, likely to try and intimidate each other. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't working.
You look up as you hear echoing laughter coming from the other side of the room, eyes scanning over the wall lined with silhouette targets, and racks with an array of weapons before landing on your teammate, laughing away with the other career tributes over a joke you didn't hear. He's got a spear in one hand, leaning his weight on it as his head drops back with laughter. You shake your head to get back on task, rolling the rough wood in your palms in hopes of making a spark. Good to see at least one of you is having fun, especially in your final days.
After a few minutes you get it, sitting back into your calves where you were kneeling on the ground, taking a breath of relief as you're satisfied with your success. You glance around to see how others are doing, giving a small smile and wave to Maisie when you see her, reading a book about different edible plants and trying desperately to memorize every image. You watch as Rafe takes the same spear he was leaning on before, hurling towards one of the targets. A direct hit, right in the chest, slightly right of the centre. You jump a little at the sound it makes on impact, looking finally at the boy who threw it.
He's pacing, huffing and looking a little frustrated with himself. A little to the left would have been perfect, but it was a kill shot nonetheless. There would be no coming back from that, and you count yourself lucky that it likely won't be you in place of the target in the games.
You quickly put out your fire and try again, making sure you've got the hang of it. You'll sit here all day if you must. After three more successful attempts, you're satisfied for the day, deciding you'll return to that station tomorrow and try again. You get up and brush the dirt off your knees, trekking over to where they have supplies to make game traps. You've never done this before, but there's no better time to learn, especially since your teammate has shown no interest in survival skills so far today.
"What are you doing?" Suddenly Rafe is standing behind you, as you're once again kneeling on the ground attempting to get the trigger on your bladeless trap to work.
You jump a little, startled by someone talking to you. "Uh, trying to make a snare, I think." You answer, turning to look up at him.
"Looks good." He nods, crouching down next to you. "Uh, isn't there supposed to be a blade or a spearhead or something on that piece?" He says, pointing to it.
"Well, yeah, I just didn't want to stab myself by accident." You laugh slightly, trying the trigger again- and this time it works, snapping forward into his arm.
"Ouch, yeah, fair enough." Rafe chuckles, rubbing the spot on his arm where the wood made contact.
You just nod and begin to reset it to test it again. "What if you can't get any of this shit in the arena?" He asks.
"What, a stick?" You ask, hitting the trigger one more time, sending the stick into his arm again, which he had decided not to move.
"Ow! Yes, a stick. We don't know what it will look like." He rubs his arm, examining the trap you built closer now.
"Then we're screwed I guess." You joke, leaning back on your calves again, watching him dissect it piece by piece to figure out how it works.
"So, is this like, your thing?" Rafe asks, and you tilt your head at him as you think it over.
"My thing?" You ask, unsure entirely what he meant. "I've never made one before, if that's what you're asking."
"Really?" He seems shocked by this.
"Uh, yeah, really. Unfortunately for you, you got paired up with someone who has zero survival or combat skills."
Rafe looks at you, a smug grin crossing his features. "Ha ha, very funny." He clearly thinks you're joking, but you're definitely not.
"I'm serious." You say, confused as to why he doesn't believe you.
His smile falters, replaced with wrinkles of confusion on his forehead. "But- I just watched you look at the instruction book for no more than like, three seconds before sitting down to make this."
"And..?"
"If you've never done it before it's supposed to be harder than that."
"Well, I've seen other people do it on TV and stuff every year for like, ever." You shrug. "I've just got a good memory, I guess."
Rafe nods, looking at the deconstructed trap in front of him for a moment, thinking about the implications of this. How far does this go? Could he use it? He'd never dreamt of having to work in a team in his games, but maybe it would benefit him after all. "Come with me." He stands up, and you follow as he paces over to two big screens, covered with a large array of different symbols.
"Try this, I just want to see something." Rafe says, standing next to you with his arms crossed as you quickly look over the screen, reaching down toward the one in front of you. You notice quickly that the screens mirror each other, all the images placed in the same spots as they are above. You look up at your teammate briefly who nods at you and then you tap one, watching it disappear from both screens before you tap the matching symbol. It's a matching game.
Your eyes are locked on the top screen as you tap away at the bottom one, quickly making all the images disappear one by one. It takes you no more than a minute to get rid of them all, and then a timer appears on the screen replaying your every move in real-time. Forty-two seconds. Were you really going that fast?
"Neat." Rafe says to himself, nodding as he watches it replay on the screen. That was impressive, sure, but his mind is straining to find a practical implication for this in the arena. "Go back to survival stuff. Learn as much as you can." He settles on, turning and walking off back to where he was before, returning to combat training.
The four days of training fly by insanely fast, and that's likely due to your dread of what's to come. you've got through everything in survival no less than three times, and you're pretty sure last night you dreamt of plants and making a fire. Not surprisingly, Rafe has left you pretty much alone the whole time, but you did watch from a distance as he cycled through every weapon the training center had to offer, proving he's almost mastered every last one. Of course, with over ten years of training, anything less wouldn't make sense. What scares you is the other careers showing a similar skill level to that of your teammate, but he seems to be on good terms with them. Again, maybe this would be a good thing in the beginning of the games.
You sit down for your last day of making fires and fishing hooks, working solely on memory since day one, you're feeling pretty confident that the elements or exposure won't be what takes you out- but you don't know if that's a good thing or not. You just hope your death will be quick.
"Y/N, c'mere." Rafe is suddenly calling to you, motioning for you to join him in the combat area. Not seeing much of a choice, and not looking forward to another day of doing the same thing over and over, you listen.
You make your way over, avoiding the gaze of other tributes who are looking at you like you're about to make a fool of yourself. It's possible you are. "I want you to learn how to use this." He says as you walk up, holding out the handle of a knife to you.
You take it, turning the sharp blade over in your hand. "I thought you were the weapons master." You joke, looking up at him briefly.
"Well, I need you to make fires and shit so you have to stay alive somehow, and if we get separated or something I need to know you can at least defend yourself. These are good from a distance and up close, but remember that any weapon you have they can take and use against you. So keep distance whenever you can." He answers, pointing over to the target about fifteen feet away. "So, throw it."
You look over to where he was pointing, adjusting your grip on the handle as you nod, taking in the information he's dumping on you. He is probably right, especially since you don't think he plans on protecting you himself. Why would he? If you die, he can still win without you.
You lift your arm over your shoulder, closing one eye to narrow down your aim before throwing it hard towards the target, which the knife bounces off of and clatters to the ground. You and Rafe both turn at the same time to look at the group that's laughing at you, the clang of the metal on the cement echoing loudly in the vast space.
"Don't worry about them. They're not there." Rafe is quick to grab another one, handing it to you the same way. "Try again, this time, hold it like this..." He says, grabbing your hand and placing your fingers in the correct spots on the handle. "Keep your wrist tense and straight, don't flick it or anything. Yeah, like that." He nods, taking a step back.
You look over how you're holding it, committing the feeling and finger placement to memory before raising your arm again. You throw it again, and this time it sticks, but your aim is off and it ends up in the target's leg. You look over at Rafe, unsure if you're hoping for approval or just satisfaction. "That's perfect." He nods. "Not a death blow, but that'll buy you time to get away. which is all you need."
"Okay." You agree quietly.
"Would it help if you watched me?" He offered, already grabbing a new knife while you nod. "So, you want to follow through with the throw, your shoulders should end about here if you're doing it right. You get more power that way, and better aim." He explains, standing with one foot forward, parallel to the target.
You step back to watch his strategy, noting the way he held the blade and his form when he aimed to throw it. He lets it fly from his fingers as his shoulders fall forward, smirking to himself as it hits the bullseye circle, right in the chest.
"You got it?" He asks, standing up straight again. You nod in response and he's handing you yet another knife to try again.
You go back and forth for hours, not caring that you're keeping anyone else from practicing. You're not the best at it, but it's become muscle memory now, and every time it sticks, most of the time hitting the silhouette somewhere. You tried the moving targets briefly, the gold, pixelated figures running at you quickly. You were immediately overwhelmed, and Rafe ended up having to step in to help. He said after that the minimal skill you had would be good enough to get away, and that is all you would need. You just have to focus on that.
You didn't talk a lot, besides taking a few short breaks to gather the knives and his arrows as Rafe explained the pros and cons of every weapon they had present, showing you briefly how to use some of them. Mostly how to defend yourself against them. It's hard for him to sum up years of training in one day, but he's dead set on the idea that you won't need most of it- just having to focus on keeping the two of you sheltered and fed, he can handle the rest; hopefully.
You sit outside the training center next to Rafe, waiting for your name to be called. It was the youngest female tribute from his district first, so if you had to guess, you would be third and fourth to go, which doesn't buy you a lot of time to decide what to do to best show your skills.
"What are you gonna do?" You ask, whispering in the deathly quiet room.
"Huh?" Rafe hums, leaning closer to hear you better.
You clear your throat, before speaking this time, unsure if you were clear enough. "What are you gonna do? Like which skill?" You clarify.
"Oh, uh..." He mutters, adjusting how he's sitting as he thinks about what to say. "I'm just going to cycle through some different weapons, different distance targets, I think. My mentors want me to show like, a variety of what I can do."
You nod at this, making a mental note of that. Maybe you should do the matching game and then try the knives. Opal told you that you would be scored both individually, and as a team. You hope you won't bring down his score too much, since you know he's aiming high. You planned on going for a mid-level score, not to be seen as a threat but also not as an easy kill. A perfect six would be your ideal score. "What about you?" Rafe interrupts your thought process.
"I'm not sure." You answer honestly.
"You should do your survival stuff. That will improve our team score, if we show them we have strengths at both." Rafe suggests. That's not actually a bad idea. Your individual score will likely be lower, but that's a risk you're willing to take.
"Yeah, I'll do that."
You ended up scoring a six, the judges obviously not seeing you as any kind of threat. This is what you expected, though, and you were correct about your group score as well. Rafe and you together scored a ten. On his own, he scored a ten, so you hadn't affected it in the way you feared. This left you reeling over the idea of other tributes seeing you both as a threat as you stand in yet another extravagant dress, waiting in line to be called out for your interview. The games were tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted was to get in front of a crowd and subtly plead with them to let you live, to send you gifts, and to give you their sympathy.
So far it's been in the same order they called everyone for assessments yesterday, which means you would be next. Rafe stands behind you, arms crossed in a suit that looks more expensive than any you've seen back home in all of your life, but he looks comfortable in it. Your dress is once again covered in rhinestones, and your waist is cinched in so tight you can hardly breathe as it is, so you're not looking forward to going on stage.
"Our next tribute, welcome to the stage from District Five, Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You hear the familiar voice of Caesar Flickerman calling you out and some guards usher you forward onto the stage, very briefly glancing over your shoulder at Rafe.
You're quick to smile as you turn back around, giving a small wave to the host and then out to the audience as they cheer for you. For a brief moment, you feel as if they don't plan on watching you die as early as tomorrow, you feel as if they're rooting for you. "Hi!" You say as you get closer and Caesar stands up to greet you, shaking your hand and giving you a quick hug before gesturing for you to sit down across from him.
You look around the large theatre, spotting every camera you can. Your family is out there watching, somewhere, and you know they'll see right through this show you have to put on. You wish they wouldn't. You can picture so vividly your living room back home, with your parents and siblings scattered across the couch and the floor watching you with bated breath, they can see you- and on some level, you can see them too.
"Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for being here." Caesar sighs, reaching out and patting your hand where it sits on the armrest next to you.
"Well, I didn't have any other plans for the night, so..." You shrug, making him laugh. Laughter echoes from the audience and you smile, hoping that your plan to win people over is working.
"What? A beautiful girl like you?" He asks after he's done laughing. "You weren't planning on spending some of your free time with your teammate?" As if you got even a minute of free time since you've been here.
"Well, I guess we'll never know." You chuckle, looking back at the boy where he stands in the wing, giving you a small smile.
"Now listen, Y/N, Rafe is..." He has to stop after mentioning his name as cheers erupt again, laughing as he waits for the audience to quiet down. "Your teammate is, as you may have guessed, a popular face in the Capitol right now. Are you feeling lucky about your pairing?"
Rafe crossed his arms as he watches intently, feeling smug about his odds, especially now knowing the Capitol's opinion of him. He knows his dad is back home watching, full of pride that his son has become a fan favourite.
"I am." You answer honestly. "He's very talented."
"And handsome, don't you think?"
"I mean, who am I to argue with the people?" You joke, waving your hand dismissively as you hear the cheers pick up again. "Besides, his looks won't save us. We will save ourselves." You add seriously.
Caesar nods in acknowledgment, showing that to an extent, he agrees with you. "Well, I hope that you are right, dear." He smiles, getting up to signal you've run out of time. You stand as well, taking his hand as he holds it up above your heads. "It was so lovely to meet you, and may the odds stay ever in your favor. Y/N Y/L/N, everyone!"
You smile and thank him quietly, waving to everyone with both hands as you walk across the stage to exit on the other side. You take a few deep breaths as you step into yet another waiting room, watching the screen as Rafe is called out right behind you.
Rafe sits down on the chair across from Caesar after his introduction, which allows a few moments for the audience to quiet down. He smiles proudly as he rests one of his feet on his other knee, bouncing his leg with anxiety. He hopes it's interpreted as excitement. "Rafe." Caesar smiles at him, sitting back down as well. "I'll be honest, I have been so excited to finally meet you."
"It's good to meet you too." Rafe grins, chuckling slightly at the few whistles he gets scattered from the crowd.
"You got a fabulous score, how are you feeling about that?"
"Really good, yeah. Obviously I've been waiting my whole life for this opportunity, so it feels amazing to see it all paying off." Rafe answers, focussing on keeping the confidence in his tone.
"We can tell, can't we?" Caesar laughs, riling up the audience again, making Rafe laugh to himself as he softly shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. So, with all this planning you've been doing, how do you feel about getting paired up? You probably expected to be going in solo."
"I did, for sure, but I don't think this is a bad thing." Rafe admits.
"Oh, getting along well with your teammate?" Caesar asks, a hint of suggestion in his tone.
"Yeah, we get on really well." Rafe exaggerates your relationship a bit, knowing it will earn you more sponsors, and maybe keep other tributes away from you in the games. "At least I think we do, I'm not fully sure about her thoughts on me, though."
"You scored incredibly well together, despite Y/N having a fairly average score on her own. What are your thoughts and feelings on that?"
Rafe chuckles as he leans forward a bit, pointing out to the audience as he speaks. "Don't underestimate her based on the score. I won't give you any spoilers, but trust me, don't overlook her. She's got as good a shot as any of us. Maybe better."
Caesar makes a surprised expression as he nods. "Well okay! Does she have some sort of secret weapon we should be worried about?" He chuckles, gripping the armrests and looking around as the audience laughs.
Rafe just shrugs in response, smirking slightly, which you can tell the audience just eats up. You're trying to decide if this is good or bad for you, though, as you watch, gnawing at your nails in anticipation as you stare at the screen.
"Okay, alright, don't spoil anything then." Caesar laughs. "It'll make for a better show, and I can get behind that."
After a moment of waiting for the cheers to die down, Caesar speaks up again. "Rafe, if I can ask, I know your father has a lot of influence in your district- how is he feeling about your selection for the games?"
You furrow your brow a little bit as you look at the screen, finally learning something interesting about your teammate. If he's from a prominent family in District One of all places, that would certainly explain his attitude. Rafe, on the other hand, doesn't want to talk about his father at all- but of course they would bring him up.
"Yeah, of course." Rafe replies, shifting in his seat. "He's thrilled, it's a huge honour to be here, and to be the first out of his children to be chosen is really special to me. I just hope I can make him and my sisters proud, he's always encouraged us to volunteer."
"I'm sure that you will." Caesar smiles at him. "I hope I will have the honour of hosting one of your sisters on this stage one day, as well."
Your stomach churns just watching this. How can any father who loves his children want this fate for them? This was your father's worst nightmare. You watch as Rafe nods with a smile, and you can see behind his eyes that he doesn't want that, not at all.
The audience cheers as they both stand up, shaking hands before Rafe leaves the stage, a cocky smirk on his face as he waves and winks at the audience. Before Rafe makes it down to the waiting room, you're grabbed an escorted out, heading for the elevator back to your room.
You can't eat, but you know you should. This will likely be your last meal for a while. You decide on just taking a large bowl of fruit and toast to your room, trying to get it down slowly with all the nerves, while you have a bath. Your parents never let you eat in the bath. It's hard to get out knowing this is likely the last bath you'll ever have.
The morning goes by in a blur, you feel Opal's arms around you as she hugs you goodbye and wishes you luck. You know you'll need all of it. You stare down at the ground in front of you as you're pushed onto a plane, of sorts, along with all the other tributes. Once you're sat down, you look around at everyone else. You remember all of their names as you scan over their faces, but you wish you didn't. You get stuck on one of the girls from District Eleven, Hope, who was only thirteen.
She's shaking, and you can see that from where you're sat down the row from her. She reminds you of Rue, the tribute from last year. Her death was a tragedy, it broke the hearts of everyone outside of the Capitol and the career districts. Hope's curly hair sat in a bun on top of her head, and tears fell down her cheeks as she sniffled. She got paired up with a girl from Twelve- the lengths the Capitol will go to to make a mockery of last years games will never cease to amaze you.
"Hey, you look a little pale." Rafe whispers, leaning close to you. You didn't even notice him sit down on the other side of you.
You shake your head slightly, looking down at your knees. "I'm fine."
"Don't think about it." Rafe instructs you, holding his arm out for the tracker to be injected as a guard approaches with the device.
You wince as you hear it get shot into his arm and he chuckles, shaking his arm off to ease the sting. You raise your shaking arm as they hold their hand out expectantly to you. You don't know what it is they're putting in you, but you've never been fond of needles. This is a million times worse. "It's not that bad," Rafe tells you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel pressure on your forearm, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain. You bite your tongue to keep from making a sound, dropping your arm onto your lap as they quickly walk away.
"What did they do?" You ask him, trying to keep a steady tone.
"It's a tracker, so they know where we are in the arena." He explains quietly. You were the only two talking, and you notice it's earning you glares from several other tributes. Rafe notices this as well, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, taking this time to size everyone up.
The plane takes off, and before you know it, you're landing at the arena on the outskirts of Capitol property. You wonder if you're close to the ocean, not that you'll get to see it anyways.
You're paraded off of the plane, still trying not to let it show how afraid you are of what's to come. You make the briefest of eye contact with Maisie as she's pulled towards a different hallway, and neither of you have it in you to smile anymore.
"We've gotta get supplies, that's our first move." Rafe says to you as you're led out of earshot of other tributes, into your own hall.
"My mentor said to run." You reply quietly.
Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Your what, one mentor said that? Cool. I have fifteen that are still alive and well enough to show up every year. I think we should get supplies." He tells you firmly, but you know that will get you instantly killed, maybe not him, but you stand no shot. "Just stick with me if you want to live."
You just nod a little bit, glancing at him again briefly before you're directed into a separate room across the hall from him. His pedestal will be next to yours, which is a bit of a relief. Your stylist quickly instructs you to strip, and then she helps you into the uniform you assume you'll all be wearing. It's exactly the same as last year, you notice this quickly, but with a '75' logo embroidered on the chest where the District Twelve tribute had her pin placed. Katniss, you remember her name was. She had volunteered for her sister, and at the time you contemplated heavily on whether or not you would do the same. She was so, so close to winning- to getting to see her sister again, but she and the boy from her district, the final two tributes, ended up committing together rather than giving the Capitol their Victor. It was an admirable stance, but you couldn't imagine what that was like for her family, and his.
You step off the concrete floor once you're dressed, instructed to get into the pod that will lift you up into the arena; a glass elevator. Your stylist says nothing to you as they walk out of the room, the glass door sliding shut in front of you. Your knees get weak as you realize you are totally, completely alone, and likely no more than twenty minutes from dying. You think of your family, your siblings, your dad- and the last words he said to you. You'll see him soon.
Your thoughts are halted when the elevator starts to move, lifting you up as the ceiling falls away and you can see sunlight coming through. You squint and shield your eyes as you try to look up to get a better grasp on your surroundings before you can even see anything. Once trees come into view you're frantically looking around, trying to process as much information as you can, and quickly. It's exactly the same as last year, but from what you can tell, flipped in reverse, and made larger to accommodate twice as many tributes. Or everything on camera last year was flipped. There's a silver cornucopia in the middle with the timer that's immediately counting down and supplies inside and scattered around the field in front of you. Rafe is to your right, and a boy from Seven on your left. He scored a six, the same as you, so he's not the biggest threat to you immediately.
You adjust your stance, getting ready to run once the timer hits zero. In what direction, you don't know yet. Rafe wants you to run to the supplies, but statistically, the most deaths will happen in the next five minutes and you don't want any part of that. The supply bags and weapons spread out on the grass are all the same too, by the looks of it. The closest bag to you got picked up by the girl from Seven last year, and it didn't have much of anything helpful. If you're remembering right, it had a rope and some matches, and that was it. It definitely would be useful, but you know you can do better. There should be a bag four pedestals to your right, with a water bottle, an emergency blanket, a fire starter, a first aid kit, and a knife. Right now, that's the one you have to get to. That's your best bet.
Ten, nine, eight... The timer ticks down to the final seconds as you look over at Rafe, who's already looking at you. You point to the bag as your eyes land on it on the other side of him across the field, and he looks at you confused. He's closer, he has a better shot, but you know he won't take it.
Rafe is confused, following your finger and spotting the bag. Why would you want that one specifically? There are others closer, he doesn't feel like now is a time to be picky.
Four, three, two...
Your ears ring with shock as the clock reaches zero, and you're watching most of the other tributes booking it for the center. No one has seen your bag yet as you jump down, beelining across the field and narrowly brushing past Rafe in your move for the small backpack. He stops to let you pass, almost crashing into you head-on. He doesn't have time to worry about you, so he continues on his path to the middle, but he's lost time. Precious time that he doesn't have to lose right at the beginning of the games.
He gets into the bloodbath that the cornucopia has already turned into, looking back over his shoulder quickly as he grabs at any weapon he can get his hands on. He quickly has to sacrifice the blade he just grabbed when he hears footsteps quickly approaching from behind him, turning quickly and plunging it into the boy's chest. He doesn't think to look at who it was.
Cannon's echo around you, and you're counting how many internally as you get to the bag, reaching down to grab it as you run past, trying not to slow down. You look back over your shoulder, hoping to spot your teammate somewhere, but you can't see him. You're scanning the area, blocking out the blood you see flying and scattered along the silver metal of the cornucopia. You can hardly hear any screams over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You can't help but watch as the girl from Three jumps on who is supposed to be her partner, a girl from Twelve, snapping her neck in a second. Within moments, she just drops to the ground next to her- another cannon following. That makes a strong incentive for working in teams. At least Rafe won't betray you early on.
You freeze up for a moment, stopping to scan your surroundings. You still can't find Rafe, taking in the number of bodies scattered around the cornucopia and a few tributes running into the tree line. At least some people were smart. Something flies past your head, making you jump back a step as you look up ahead of you. Within an instant, you're being tackled back by the body of the boy from your district.
"Y/N, fancy seeing you here." He chuckles darkly while you try and fight him off.
"Don't!" You squeak out, him pressing his forearm down against your throat on the ground.
"I've wanted to do this since the second they called your name." He growls, shoving you down again.
"We can help each other, Jack..." You say weakly, clawing at his arm.
"You don't need me. You've got your career boyfriend- and whatever your secret weapon is." He scoffs. "You don't have a secret weapon, Y/N. He's bluffing and he won't convince us."
You gather all your strength and knee him in the crotch, scrambling to get away as he fumbles for just a moment. "God- you are a bitch!" He shouts, grabbing for your ankle just has you pick up the knife he had thrown at you. You grip it the way Rafe had shown you, quickly shoving it into Jack's leg. You just needed to get away.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, backing away quickly. Jack doesn't say another word, cutting his losses and getting up to make an escape for the woods. You hope he ends up okay.
You make your break for it as well, running back towards the woods as you once again scan your surroundings for your partner.
Suddenly you're on the ground, having run straight into the side of one of the pedestals and falling over it. You yelp with the sudden impact of the ground, scrambling to get up and continue when suddenly someone is grabbing your jacket, slamming you into the pedestal again. You scream, trying to shove them off, but they're much stronger than you. "Jael! Wait, wait- Jael!" You make out your own voice yelling the boy's name, which makes him falter. He's the oldest tribute from Eight- he seems shocked you even know his name.
In the moment when he loosened his grip, he jerks forward and then falls over you, a cannon booming making you gasp as you panic to get away. Rafe is quickly running towards you, slinging the bow he just used over his shoulder and yanking the arrow out of the boy's back. "Y/N, let's go!" He shouts, motioning for you to follow him as you continue toward the tree line, both of you keeping an eye on what's happening behind you as you disappear into the woods.
"Let's stay close, but not too close," Rafe suggests as soon as you feel safe enough to slow down, your chest heaving with the exertion of energy and boost of adrenaline. He glances at you briefly, then does a double take. "You okay? Are you hurt?"
You shake your head, coughing to ease the stinging in your throat. "I'm fine. You?"
"Good," Rafe answers, slowing his pace to match yours.
"We, uh, I think we should go the other way." You say, looking around to try and mentally place where abouts you are.
Rafe stops and furrows his brow at you, seemingly frustrated by your resistance. "Why does it matter?"
"The arena, it's the same as last year. Exactly the same. Just, scaled up a bit." You explain. "We should head south, that's where the river is. We'll need water soon."
Rafe laughs slightly, his demeanor changing as he places his hands on his hips and looks at you. "No shit," He says, truly surprised and impressed that you could tell. A lot of the games tend to look like this, and he would never notice a repeat arena down to the rivers if it punched him in the face. Your 'secret weapon' is already paying off. "And you could tell that right away?"
"Yeah, I mean, I guess so. The bags were all the same, everything was laid out the same. I bet there's a river down south." You nod, having a sudden realization. "We should get to that cave- the one the tributes from Twelve holed up in last year. That'll be a good, stable shelter. We can pretty much wait it out." You say, starting to walk in what you believe is the right direction.
"No," Rafe replies, making you stop in your tracks. "Unless you want me to have to kill you in the end."
"Oh, right." You forgot about that part, keeping score. "We're still going to need somewhere to sleep, though."
"Yeah, we'll find it anyways." Rafe nods, carrying on in the direction you started heading. You follow a few steps behind, keeping a bit of distance in the somewhat awkward silence that fell over you two after his comment about having to kill you.
You walk in the thick of the woods for about an hour before you feel like you're reaching the river. You can feel it under your feet, the soil is slightly softer, and the trees a little more green.
Cannons interrupt your thoughts a few times in the hike, totaling up to twenty-three by the time you reach the riverbank. "You were right." Rafe chuckles, mentally disparaging any skepticism he faced during the long, quiet walk.
"Thank god." You giggle, dropping your bag and crouching down to dig through it, hoping for a water bottle. You were right, everything you expected was accounted for.
"Why that bag?" Rafe says, already sitting down on the rocky water's edge to rest for a moment.
"Huh?" You question, unsure you heard over the shuffling of the bag while you zip it up.
"You pointed to it, during the countdown. Why did you want that one?"
"Oh, uh, like I said they all looked the same as last year, and I hoped I remembered what was inside." You say, laying down to reach into the water and fill up the bottle.
"Were you right?"
You nod with a small smile, sitting back up and holding the bottle out to him as you cross your legs.
"That's actually insane." Rafe shakes his head in disbelief as he takes it, downing just about everything in it before handing it back.
You take it and refill it again for yourself. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."
Rafe wouldn't admit it, but at this moment as he's watching you drink, he's grateful that he got paired up with you. But now, that it's been shown on national television that you know the arena in and out, he wonders what obstacles the gamemakers will desperately throw your way.
"We should keep moving. I feel like a sitting duck out here in the open, I don't like it." Rafe mutters, checking his attitude as he stands up. You're quick to fill up the bottle again, following behind him yet again as the arrows in his quiver rattle together against his back walking over the rocky and unstable terrain, knife gripped tightly in his hand.
You wonder to yourself how he's feeling about leaving behind his predestined alliance of the career pack, but with the factor of most of them being paired up with other districts, it was already too unpredictable. You wouldn't have stuck around either.
The sun started to set as you followed the river upstream. You didn't want to settle without some kind of shelter, and you were committed to finding that cave before you could relax. You could tell that Rafe had the same idea, his steps ahead of you gradually picking up speed with the bow still gripped firmly in his palm.
"It's a beautiful sunset." You speak your mind before thinking, desperately wanting to fill the silence.
Rafe just hums in response, looking up only briefly before training his gaze once again on the ragged rocks at his feet and continuing on. "What's it like in District One?" You ask.
"Fine." He replies coldly. You aren't sure what you expected, but this response was pretty on par. You knew you had almost no chance of survival, so it would at least be nice to get to know the person you spend your final days with, even if he would be the one to kill you in the end.
"I've never been, but I've heard it's... nice." You've only ever heard about it from the perspective of other bitter individuals from Five, jealous of the cushy lifestyle everyone knew they must have lived.
"Yeah." Rafe agrees, clearly not wanting to discuss it.
"What are your sister's names?" You ask, deciding to push a little bit. It's not like he can kill you just yet.
Rafe sighs, but answers anyways. "Wheezie and Sarah."
You're shocked that he answered at all, but you could tell in his interview that he has a soft spot for them. "Cute." You nod, smiling to yourself. "Is Wheezie a nickname?"
"Yep, it's short for Louise."
"That's adorable." You grin, shaking your head.
"Hey, look. There." Rafe says, changing the subject and pointing down the rocks, where there's a small opening under a ledge.
"That's it!" You exclaim, deciding to drop the topic of his sisters in favour for finding your shelter for the night. You rush past him, watching your step as you climb down into the small cave.
Rafe quickly draws his bow, slowing down and peaking into the cave and bracing himself for your screams. How could you be so careless in a game like this? He doesn't understand your lightheartedness, your somewhat positive attitude, and your ability to make small talk despite the circumstances. "Hey, careful!"
"It's perfect!" You call back out as you look around, and Rafe steps down carefully, looking around more carefully than you had. He relaxes once he's satisfied that there's nothing down there waiting to kill you.
"Nice, okay." Rafe nods to himself, and you both get to work making a small fire near the entrance, hidden from view.
You take off your jacket and roll it up, using it as a makeshift pillow as you lay next to the fire, staring at the orange flicker of the flames you made.
Rafe is sitting across from you, knees tucked up to his chest as he does just the same. His mind is absolutely reeling- he needs to find something to eat, and soon. That will be the first thing you'll do in the morning, he'll have to employ your help to find something edible. "How are you with making traps?" He asks.
"I can do it." You reply, sitting up and leaning on your elbow so you can see him. "I'll set some up in the morning."
Rafe nods a little bit. He already knew you could, of course, but he's wondering about the logistics of how they work. "So like... hypothetically, would they work the same if you made them bigger?"
"Like... human-sized?" You ask, catching on to what he's suggesting. It's not ethical- but nothing about this game is. For you, this would definitely be preferable to fighting other kids to death over and over again.
Rafe nods, adjusting how he was sitting and crossing his legs.
"Yeah. I can't see why not." You answer. "It would be harder since I've never done it, but I think it could work."
"Then I say we try it."
The next day, you wake up as the sun rises and the light beats down on you from the entrance of the cave. You didn't sleep comfortably, that's for sure, waking up twice throughout the night to the sound of the cannon. That's twenty-seven. You wonder how many teams have already reached their ten-kill quota, you imagine someone in the career pack already has. Both times when you were startled awake, Rafe was standing at the cave entrance, bow drawn as he squinted into the darkness, hoping that whoever was out hunting other tributes wasn't nearby.
You sit up slowly, stretching out your tired limbs as you look over to see Rafe, fast asleep with a blade in his hand. You should let him sleep, and get to work on finding something to eat, and making some traps.
You grab one of the knives Rafe somehow collected from the bag laying next to him as quietly as possible, sneaking outside and taking in your surroundings. The sound of the river flowing and the smell of morning dew was amazing- you wish you could truly enjoy it in different circumstances.
You quickly get to work tracking down something to eat, landing on a few different plants you know to be edible. You're trekking through the woods near your cave when you come across an apple tree- making you pause as you look it over. It looks out of place- and maybe no one got close enough to it in the games last time that you wouldn't have seen it, but that seems unlikely. It must be new; it makes for the perfect place to try and set up a trap for the next hungry tribute who would be unfortunate enough to wander too close to your hideout.
You're digging a hole in the ground with your hands, avoiding the roots of the tree and sticking in some sticks you sharpened when you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze, hoping that by some miracle, it's just an animal. You slowly turn your head to try and look, picking up the knife from the ground next to you and holding it tight.
"Just me." Rafe's voice relaxes you, and you stand up, brushing off your knees.
"You scared me." You admit as he takes to looking down into the hole you just dug.
"That looks... awful." He chuckles, patting your shoulder. "It won't kill, but it'll slow someone down enough that I can finish the job."
You nod slightly, staring into the dirt as well. You hated the idea that you were crafting something intentionally to bring harm to another person, but realistically you have no choice. "We'll set up more, along the riverbed and closer to the career pack. We can't monitor them all at once, though- can you make more fatal ones next time?" Rafe asks, pointing back towards the river to accentuate his point.
"That depends, how many arrows can you spare?"
The next few days saw the death toll rise to thirty-six. You kept track every night, scratching their numbers and names into the walls of the cave despite being able to remember anyway. You viewed it as a small memorial, Rafe saw it as a timer ticking down to when he'd have to kill you.
Your first trap had worked on one person, their screams of pain from a cut-up leg summoning your teammate back to the apple tree. He insisted you stay behind as he finished what you started. You had to reset several other traps as well, closer to the cornucopia.
Rafe would never admit it, but he was really starting to like you. He didn't want to hurt you- he was worried the traps wouldn't do enough. The passive approach you so preferred wasn't what he expected, and he knew his dad would be disappointed in him. But Ward would never understand.
He sighed as he poked at the fire with a stick, leaning his head back against the rocky wall of the cave, another cold night ahead of you.
You had your head laid on his lap, his thigh replacing the thin material of your coat that you had been using the last few days.
"How old are your sisters?" You ask out of nowhere, prompting him to look down at you. He had thought you fell asleep a while ago.
"Why does it matter?" Rafe replies, and you just shrug a little bit.
"Gives us something to talk about."
"Fifteen and Eleven." He relents.
"Hey, me too." You smile a little to yourself.
"You have sisters?" Rafe asks. He never asked much about you- he didn't really want to know, in the case he had to kill you.
"Yep. And a brother." You nod, sitting up a little bit. "He's older though, he aged out last year."
Rafe finds himself clenching his jaw. He can't hear that- to see you as a little sister. He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like to see his sisters face the same fate. "Lucky guy." He says quietly.
"Why? I thought it was a privilege, and all that." You chuckle.
"Well, yeah, but not for most. For the outlying districts like you."
"At least you get it." You agree. "How does it feel? Now that you're here, I mean."
"Scary." Rafe admits, throwing caution to the wind now with what his father will think. "Not what everyone tells you it'll be like."
"Is that because of me?" You ask after a few moments, and he nods slightly.
"Not in a bad way, though. It's just different. I expected to be on my own, to die alone, or kill my allies if I had to. Now... I don't know that I have to. Or if I even could." He can practically hear his father shouting at their large screen at home, or storming out claiming he was an embarrassment. He was told his whole life to never show weakness, to 'be a man', but now, at the end, that doesn't matter to him.
"I won't take it personally." You giggle softly, voice shaking as you try to make light of it. "My family won't either, I don't think. Maybe my dad, at first, but eventually he'll understand. They'll forgive you." You try and ease his mind, knowing that in the case that Rafe does win without you, he'll have to face your family in the next month or so during the victory tour.
"I wouldn't ever expect him to." Rafe tells you, tossing his stick into the flames now. He feels sick hearing you talk about it like it's inevitable- but if he has anything to do with it, you'll be coming home with him.
"They're good people." You assure him.
"Don't say that." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head. "I would never forgive myself."
"Okay, fine. They're awful. Just... the worst." You smile, looking up at him and resting your chin in your hand.
"That's better. Thank you." Rafe laughs, poking your forehead and gazing out onto the river as the flames illuminate the water.
In the morning, you're awoken to something brushing your leg. You groan and roll over, head landing once more on Rafe's extended arm underneath you. At least he was finally getting some sleep, pretty much unable to close his eyes since you set foot in the arena. You feel the brush again, followed by something moving on your arm, several things, suddenly, and your eyes fly open and look down when you remember where you are. You let out a scream, scrambling to sit up and pushing yourself back against the wall.
Rafe wakes up quickly, scrambling for the bow next to him when he realizes it won't be any help. You're surrounded by and quickly almost covered in a sickening combination of snakes and spiders.
You're still screaming, trying to shove the creatures off of you. "Come on- come on!" Rafe is yelling at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the exit. You don't get the chance to grab your back and you regret that as you're jumping into the river in attempt to get the spiders off of your skin and out of your clothes.
You're breathing heavily as you come up for air, and Rafe is quickly there, brushing his hands over your hair to make sure every last spider is gone. He looks back at the entrance of the cave, chest heaving like yours as the bugs and snakes spill out of it. It sends a shiver down his spine- he was never a fan of snakes.
"I guess that's the gamemakers telling us enough was enough." He sighs, gently pulling you towards the shore again a safe distance away. "Are you bit?" He asks once you're a safe distance away.
"I don't think so..." You reply, hiking up the ankles of your pants to look at your calves and over your bare arms as you sit on the shore. "You?"
Rafe shakes his head, doing the same. "It was probably just a warning. We have to move." He quickly lowers his pant leg over the puncture wounds in his leg, hoping you didn't see. If it gets worse, he'll tell you. The bite itself didn't hurt much, so if it's going to be fatal, he's glad he won't have to hurt you.
Rafe helps you up, leading you up towards the tree line. "They probably want to push us in toward the other tributes, I think we should go with it before they throw something worse at us." You, the two of you now left with nothing but what you had on you, along with Rafe's bow and a few spare arrows.
He nods. "It's our best move anyways. How many tributes are left?"
"Twelve including us." You answer quickly. "There's Avril, a boy from six, Maisie, she's from my district, most of the careers I think are still in it but not their teammates," You begin to rattle off the list,
"I don't want to know names." Rafe cuts you off, and you understand why. He's been doing all the dirty work, and part of you knows it's because he's hoping to have time to learn names and feel guilty about it later. Right now, he can't afford to see them as human.
"Right." You agree. "It doesn't really matter, anyways."
"Do you know scores?" He asks, walking alongside you now.
You nod, beginning to list off all the remaining tributes and their scores, from lowest to highest. The lowest being you- and the highest being ten, shared by Rafe and a boy from district two.
After hearing two more cannons that day, and checking all the traps you had set, you're circling back to the river to be near fresh water before you set up camp again. You don't have your water bottle anymore, or anything to set up any kind of shelter with, you do your best. You set up a fire, Rafe insisting that if it draws other tributes to you so be it- he's ready for this to end just as much as you, but you don't want to rush into your death or an ambush. It's safe to say you won't be sleeping tonight.
You didn't sleep, but at least, curled up under a tree, the night sky was beautiful. The stars seemed realistic, and you wondered if somehow they were real. Between the two more cannons that struck overnight, you still wondered if you were somewhere near the ocean, or somewhere closer to home. While you're sitting next to each other in a peaceful silence, both admiring the vastness of the night sky, you hear a ringing sound coming from above.
Rafe quickly stands, reaching for the small silver pack with a parachute before it hits the ground. He's quick to open it as you stand up, looking into the container. You grab the small card, tilting it into the light of your fire to read it.
For our Y/N,
Keep fighting. Please come home to us.
Love You Always, Dad
Tears form in your eyes almost instantly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "It's just a water bottle and some kind of granola bars... or something." Rafe says, turning the water bottle over in his hand.
He looks up at you, frowning when he sees how upset you look. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." You quickly shake your head, wiping your eyes. "Uhm, it's from my dad."
The fact that your family could spare enough money to send you something in the games at all was amazing to you. You heard horror stories of the astronomical prices of trying to send something from outside of the capitol, without the status and funds of a sponsor.
"Oh." Rafe replies, handing you the tin and bottle now, taking the card from you gently. He reads it over slowly, and over and over again. His family had seemingly endless amounts of money, and they had sent him nothing. He knew his father viewed it as cheating, and that you shouldn't need any kind of help to win. If he loved him, though, that wouldn't matter. He should be willing to do anything he could to keep his son alive. The way your parents did.
"My mom made these." You sniffle, grabbing a small bar from the container in her hand. "They're my favourite, she only makes them on birthdays or special occasions." You explain.
"That's... that's really nice." Rafe says, putting the card back in the tin. He doesn't know how to handle this, or what to say.
You smile sadly as you sit back down against the tree, placing the tin on your lap as Rafe joins you. "Here." You hold the bar out to him.
"They're for you." Rafe shakes his head, pushing it away.
"They're for us." You insist, holding it out to him again. "They wouldn't have sent two if I wasn't meant to share."
"Thank you." Rafe smiles genuinely, for the first time in weeks as he takes it. He's starving, having eaten only small amounts of meat and plants over the last week or so, so he's quick to take a bite. It's sweet, more so than he expected. He never thought he could enjoy sugar this much.
"No wonder they're reserved for celebrations, hey?" You giggle, having intently watched his reaction.
Rafe nods. "Yeah, it's really good. Super sweet." He says, mouth still full. You grin, satisfied as you take a bite of your own.
The night flew by so quickly, you're feeling as though it must have gotten shorter. The sunrise went by fast too. You're guessing the gamemakers and the viewers were getting antsy. To be honest, you were as well.
Renewed with your energy the sugary baking your parents had sent, you set about gathering food and water, while Rafe goes on to check a few of your traps to see if they needed to be reset. He could do it on his own, but he liked watching you do it, working the ropes between your fingers and tying intricate knots, pulling back on the stick used to trigger the arrow. By the afternoon, having taken a mental note of the amount of cannons that had fired. It was a few, at least. You must be getting down to the end. He prayed it wasn't you, but the cries of some kind of mutts in the distance right before the cannons lead him to believe that you were fine- but he should be getting back soon anyways.
You were wandering down to the water, reluctant to leave your camp, but you knew water was a priority. You were just filling up the new bottle when you heard a scream. It sounded like a boy. You quickly look back over your shoulder, noticing it was nearby. Toward the apple tree. You stand slowly, looking around as you attach the water bottle back to your side with a carabiner, reaching instead for the knife Rafe had left with you. God, you hoped it wasn't him. The absence of a cannon gives you hope, though.
You quietly head in that direction, watching your step so your presence isn't detected. When you get closer to the tree, you hear crying. Painful crying, as you're faced with the reality of the trap you set.
You watch from behind a tree as the boy from eight tries to pull his leg up from the ground, screaming out again as the sharp sticks dig into his flesh. You should go get Rafe- you feel guilty, but you can't kill him yourself. You turn quickly, and before you can get a step away you're face to face with one of the other careers- a sword held up against your neck.
"Don't move." Blake says, a smile that can only be described as evil spreading over his lips.
You try and scream out for help, hoping Rafe was still in earshot but a hand is quickly covering your mouth. "Not yet." He whispers, shaking his head. "We've got a plan, it'll be fun. You wouldn't want to ruin that, right?"
As Rafe gets back to your small camp, he expects to see you there waiting. He scans the trees above him, wondering if you had climbed up for some reason. He calls your name when he doesn't see you, brow furrowed. You definitely should be back by now. As he's heading down to the water to look for you, he hears a cannon, which at this point wouldn't bother him- if it wasn't for the scream that followed after. It was you. No doubt in his mind that it was you. With his bow drawn, he's moving quickly towards where he heard your voice, throwing caution to the wind.
You scream again, crying as the tip of the sword is dug into your shoulder, laying down next to the apple tree. You can't help it- but you don't want their trap to work. You don't want Rafe to come, so you bite your tongue until you taste blood, hoping to keep quiet. "It'll only get worse for you if you don't scream, Y/N/N." Blake scolds you, digging in the blade more. "He has to hear you." He adds through gritted teeth.
You hear a twig snap just outside the small clearing, and Blake is quickly turning to look with the sword still pinning you to the ground. "Rafe it's a trap!" You shout, hoping that it's him.
Rafe steps out then, into full view with his bow drawn as he aims at the boy in front of him. When they first met, he knew they would have been good friends if they met anywhere else. "You won't shoot me." Blake chuckles, and Rafe quickly readjusts his grip.
"I will." Rafe says sternly, pulling the string tighter as Blake moves the sword to hover over your chest. Over your heart.
"If you shoot, the last of my energy will go into killing her. I don't think you want that." He shakes his head, smiling smugly.
"I don't care." Rafe says, making your heart clench. You know that you're friends, at the very least. He does care. He's bluffing- you have to believe that.
"If you didn't care you would have shot me already." Blake calls it, and Rafe tenses up, looking down at you only briefly.
"Then what do you want?" Rafe spits.
"Oh, nothing. I just wanted you to watch." Blake shrugs. "Just makes it a little more fun, you know? But don't worry, you'll be next." You know he just wants to prove himself, somehow, not having scored as high as Rafe did. You wonder if his family was somehow similar- that he needed some kind of approval that he thought he might find through sadism.
Rafe looks down at you again, and you just nod, tears streaming down your temples to your ears. He quickly readjusts before letting the arrow fly, planting straight in the shoulder that held the sword as you quickly roll over, slicing across your chest and shoulder in the process. It was well worth it.
Rafe fires another arrow into his chest, not taking any risks and the cannon quickly follows as he rushes to your side.
"Are you okay?" He's asking, hands hovering above you as he's kneeled next to you, unsure what to do.
You nod, still biting into your tongue as blood continues to slide down your skin, dampening your now torn up clothes.
"It's not that bad." Rafe says, looking over the cuts as best he can, but you wince when he pulls the fabric away. "You're gonna be fine, alright?"
"Yeah, yeah..." You mumble, letting your head fall back against the brush below you. Rafe is quick to take his coat off, using it to push down on the deepest part of the wound on your shoulder, trying with his other hand to apply pressure to the rest of it. You try and focus on your breathing, rather than the pain, but it's hard when a significant amount of weight is being applied to your shoulder and chest.
"I'm sorry, I have to." Rafe tells you, jaw tense as he lifts his coat to check whether or not the bleeding has slowed. You didn't even realize you were crying.
After a few minutes, he's lessened the pressure a bit, still holding the fabric firmly over your skin. "You could have ran." You mumble, voice hardly above a whisper.
"I wasn't gonna leave you." Rafe shakes his head, gently peeling away his now blood soaked windbreaker.
"You at least shouldn't have saved me. Not much point in that, is there?" You smile softly, trying to sit up and Rafe is quick to help.
"There is. You have to win." He mutters.
"I'm not winning, Rafe." You smile sadly at him. "Infection will kill me if you won't, and if no one else does first."
"No, they'll fix you up. This cut will be gone in a week, the technology they have is-"
"Rafe." You grab his attention again and he looks up to meet your eyes. They seemed to suck in all the light of the sunset above the two of you, reflecting back at him in a way that makes his breath hitch. The thought is cut short, however, when you say something that breaks his heart. "Don't give me hope like that."
"Why? You're gonna go home. I mean it." He promises. "I'll make sure of it."
"I don't think we have enough." You remind him sadly, a small smile still evident on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek in your palm. "I never expected to go home. I'm okay with that."
Your friend shakes his head softly. "That doesn't matter. You have your family to get home to, I read that note from your dad. They need you, I can see that. For me, these games are all I was raised for. I have nothing left for me after this." He admits, avoiding eye contact with you. "I could never forgive myself if I didn't get you home."
Tears are forming in your eyes again as you look up at him. The world is watching, and in this moment of vulnerability you feel that more than ever- despite the quiet sounds around you being only the rushing water in the nearby river and the birds chirping around you. "You're a good person, Rafe." You smile at him, watching as he gently raises his hand to yours, grabbing it in his own. "I hope you know that."
In this moment, you settle on the idea that you would die for him. You never understood last years tributes, honestly, how they were willing to die for each other instead of getting home to their own loved ones, but now you do. Completely.
Without a second thought, you find yourself leaning closer, Rafe doing the same as he kneels next to you in the dark. Your eyes meet once more, lips only an inch from touching when you hear a howl in the distance, and you snap your head to the direction it came from. "The Mutts... Already?" You say, scrambling to get up and ignoring the pain in your shoulder.
"I- I heard them earlier, they sound far away." Rafe says, trying to calm you.
"You heard them? You didn't tell me?" You ask, frantically grabbing his bow from the ground and handing it to him as he goes to pull the discarded arrows out of Blake's body.
"I didn't think it mattered!" He defends, trying to hide the panic in his voice.
"There were four left last year when they sent them out. I think... yeah I think that's right. There's four of us. We have to run." You say in a panic, pulling on his hand. "Our best bet is making it back to the cornucopia."
"It'll be too open- can't we climb a tree or something?" Rafe says, following after you as you're running through the bush now in the direction of the open field.
"I don't know if that will work, but I know we'll be safe there." You explain like it's obvious. "We have to risk it- and if you can get to the others first, if they have the same idea, we'll be at ten."
You're out of breath already, adrenaline pushing you through as you hear scattered barking getting steadily closer after one more cannon. Part of you wants to stop, turn, and force Rafe to take the win if you couldn't have it, but with any hope left, you have to try and get back to where this started. The traps was an unfortunate choice in how you got your kills, because you couldn't keep track of how many since by the time you got around to checking them, the body's would have been airlifted off if it wasn't a misfire. If you had to guess, though, you were sitting at eight.
Rafe is running similar calculations in his head as he lets you lead him by memory straight to the field, mind short-circuiting as he sees the silver moonlight reflect off the cornucopia.
You sprint across the open field, blood pouring from your undressed wound again with the intense exertion of energy. Rafe doesn't pass you, though, despite you expecting that he would. You have tunnel vision as you make it to the metal structure, practically slamming into it before you can even stop. Rafe is quick to lift you and shove you up, both of you looking over your shoulders as you struggle to hold onto the edge, kicking the sides to hold yourself up.
You finally get up, reaching down to help pull Rafe up. He grabs onto your arm for leverage, mostly pulling himself up and you wince as you feel the tension from his weight in your cuts.
You flop down onto your back on the cold surface as he climbs over you, immediately standing up with bow drawn as he intently scans the surrounding area. He's only got the two arrows left, which makes him nervous if that's all he has to defend the both of you with.
You try to settle your breathing, which only lasts for a moment until the sky lights up with the recap. You miss your cave, where you could contribute to your memorial, especially seeing the face of Maisie flash above you on the sky while the anthem plays.
You close your eyes, just listening to the music now until you hear barking just outside of where Rafe can see, and you're quickly sitting up. He draws the bow tighter, aiming in the direction the howls came from just as someone pushes out into the clearing. Rafe is aimed straight at them, bow string pressed to his cheek. He's getting dizzy, and quickly. His aim can't fail him now, he doesn't have that option.
You watch them, in the dark you think it's the other boy from district one, and in your exhaustion you can't remember his name. You wouldn't dare say it, anyways. He's screaming for help, a call you know you can't answer, and you watch as they stumble on their feet, shoes and hands digging into the ground as they try to get up, just ten or so yards from you by now.
Rafe wants to shoot just then, it would be as simple as letting his finger loose and the arrow would fly towards its target. It would be a merciful end for the boy he's trained with for years now, only a couple years younger than him. The muscle in his jaw is aching from the tension he's put on it when he forces himself to let go. He has to do it, for himself, if he wants to go home.
He misses. The yelp of one of the mutts tells you it landed in a paw or back, and you look up at Rafe who's already drawn his second. "Rafe!" You cry out, pushing yourself up onto your feet and standing behind him now.
He hates to admit that your empathy has rubbed off on him. Watching you every night carving seemingly endless names and numbers into the rocks that lined the space you stepped in. He recalls waking up one morning and seeing your name and his carved in as well, closer to where he laid by the fire, his underlined and yours with a heart at the end. Like a signature on the top of a math test. He had wondered if you always wrote your name like that, and in this moment as he releases the bow again, he knows he has to find out for himself.
It happened so fast, the mutts knocking down the boy and the arrow flying from Rafe's shaky hands into where he should have been right as the cannon sounds. You don't know that it was Rafe's arrow that did him in.
"No..." You mumble, clamouring forward and onto your knees again to look over as the boys body is torn apart by the mutts. "You had to have done it. You had to." You say, trying to get a better view.
In a second, Rafe's arms are around you and he's pulling you back from the edge, sitting now behind you with his arms wrapped tightly over your body. "It's okay.. it's over." He mumbles, kissing the side of your head as the sunlight comes over the trees. He's fighting off the urge to vomit, everything spinning around him now.
You sit with him, gripping onto his arms and crying. Nothing is happening, so you must not have made it to ten. You feel sick- your heart is in your throat and suddenly you're really hot, moving away from him to look over the edge again, this time incase you have to throw up. You freeze, looking over to where the boy's body once was. The second arrow was in the ground. He missed again.
Rafe sees it at the same time as you. He sighs, hanging his legs over the edge. "Shit... Y/N, I'm sorry." He mumbles, gently reaching over to rub your back.
"No, no. It's okay." You insist, sitting up next to him. "I knew this would happen."
"I'll get you home." Rafe says, sliding down the side of the cornucopia before you can stop him. He stumbles the landing, swaying in his walk as he heads towards the arrow lodged into the dirt.
"Wait! Wait, wait, Rafe!" You're sliding down after him, running to his side and grabbing his arm before he can get to the arrow in the ground.
He turns to you quickly, hand on your cheek and he's pressing his lips to your forehead. "Sit with me?" He asks, knees already giving out as he falls to the ground.
You're instantly on the ground beside him, practically holding his head up with your free hand as you search him visually for some kind of injury. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"Uh, I guess so." Rafe mutters. "Snake bite. I think."
"You didn't tell me? I could have fixed this, I could have helped..." You ramble on, his eyes dropping shut now. "Hey, eyes open."
"It's okay. Just sit with me..." He says again, smiling weakly. "Wait with me... please?"
You nod, sniffling as you fight back the tears that want to fall. "Yeah, of course. I'll stay."
Before he closes his eyes, the music starts again and your eyes are drawn up to the sky after you notice Rafe is looking first.
Then, begins a similar slideshow of faces you recognize. Ten in total. Rafe's eyes flicker with slight recollection, remembering any kills he made himself and you gasp when you see Jack. Whatever damage you had done when he tackled you on the first day must have killed him. "Rafe.." You mumble, lowering your eyes to meet his. "I think we won."
Your point is accentuated by the voice of the head gamemaker over some unseen speakers. "Introducing the Victors of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games!"
"We did it." Rafe laughs weakly, squeezing your hand.
You fully ignore the aircraft hovering down in front of you on the grass, turning your head to look down at him. You don't say anything, neither of you do, and you finally feel your lips against his. The kiss is bad, it doesn't really work when both of you are stuck smiling ear to ear, but you don't care one bit. The only thing that matters is that you got this chance at all.
Rafe pulls away from you slowly, using all the strength he has left to lift himself onto his feet as you steady him. "He needs help!" You shout to them, and you're quickly being lead onto the plane.
"They've got really good technology," You mock what he said to you just the day before. "It'll be like it never happened in a week, okay?" You chuckle, feeling waves of happiness, worry, and relief all at once as you quickly wipe away a tear with your free hand, other arm wrapped tightly around Rafe's waist to hold him up.
He laughs, and you lean into him more, your forehead against his shoulder as the aircraft door slides shut behind you.
taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy @dee127
#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe fic#outer banks#obx#obx fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine
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Yandere Teen!Nanami
warnings!: yandere!Nanami ; teen!Nanami ; nanami×reader ; nsfw (not 🌽 but gore and violence / mention of cannibalism) ; death scene ; obsessive Nanami ; jealous Nanami ; toxic Nanami ; not JJK au ; story + headcanons ; AGAIN this is a not very friendly post for sensitive people. you've been warned ; 1824 words
Being an introverted and highly asocial person since the first years of childhood brings its consequences, and that's something Kento Nanami knows very well. In his short 17 years of life he hasn't even had anything close to a friend, but that's okay, the kids at his school are annoying and stupid anyway.
But the day you, the new student in the class just transferred from another high school, paid attention to him, oh honey, something awakened in him…
If you decide to ignore your classmates' jokes about getting close to Kento and decide to befriend the boy rejected by everyone thanks to his unfriendly way of being, Nanami won't walk away from you at any time. You are his first friend! How could he stay away from you? Besides, you treat him with the minimum decency a person deserves, that makes him feel special and loved for the first time.
For before Kento consciously realizes that she has fallen madly in love with you, he starts to, slowly but surely, become obsessed with you…
Yandere Teen!Nanami who has started collecting things you touched or used. That napkin you used to wipe your smeared lipstick, the hair tie you use to tie your hair, a band aid, the gum you chewed, the straw you used to drink bubble tea....
Yandere Teen!Nanami who makes you company while going home just to find out where you live.
Yandere Teen!Nanami at night she will spy on you by watching you through your window while you walk around your room, change your clothes, do your homework and even when you decide to indulge your most lustful desires while alone.
Yandere Teen!Nanami will take any opportunity to touch you, be it your hair, hand, cheeks. Whether it's accidental or if you hug him.
Yandere Teen!Nanami who likes your scent and will offer to wear your jacket when you are tired, just so that when you don't see him he can smell it. He also gently approaches you to fill his nostrils with the scent of your perfume from your neck or the shampoo in your hair.
Yandere Teen!Nanami who likes to spend time with you, secretly recording your voice and editing it later only to hear you say his name.
Yandere Teen!Nanami takes pictures of you from every angle, even your panties, and has all his bedroom with the walls full of photos of you like wallpaper.
Yandere Teen!Nanami who keeps videos of you in his laptop and watches them when he's alone. He specifically uses the most suggestive ones to play with himself.
Yandere Teen!Nanami who feels sickeningly upset when you talk with your other classmates. Why spend time with people who have made his life hell? What if they put ideas in your head about him? What if you start to pull away? Kento doesn't want to lose you.
Yandere Teen!Nanami could start trying to isolate you when he feels that you're getting away from him, although that's only something that he feels.
Yandere Teen!Nanami will go crazy if he confesses to you and you reject him. No matter if you think about him as a friend, or as a brother, or as a classmate. Kento will go crazy to the point of hurting you and hurting himself.
On the other hand, if you decide to accept him and you start dating… Well, you better be ready.
Yandere Teen!Nanami as your boyfriend will be very clingy and touch starved. He will touch you more than before and won't even ask for permission, after all, he's your boyfriend.
Yandere Teen!Nanami is gonna try to convince you to live with him and you better accept it, for your own good.
At this point you're probably starting to realize that he's getting weird with you. — "Don't be silly, I'm just trying my best to be a good boyfriend for you".
Yandere Teen!Nanami will expose you to graphic gore content (videos, photos, books, mangas) just to make you like that content as much as he does.
Yandere Teen!Nanami is starting to lose his sanity, all because you are getting along too well with your friend.
Yandere Teen!Nanami who feels sick and desperate when he notices that you're spending more time with your friend than him. He knows that you're starting to get away from him.
— "I just… I don't know, it doesn't feel right anymore. I kinda want to break up with him now". You were talking to your friend and Kento overheard the conversation. Are you really considering breaking up with him?
Yandere Teen!Nanami will spend whole nights crying and panicking all because of what you said to your friend. His first and only love is trying to leave him, like everyone does.
Yandere Teen!Nanami who had enough and can't bear the fact that you want to leave him, to abandon him. Kento simply doesn't want to be alone anymore, it hurts, it really hurts him.
Yandere Teen!Nanami will invite you to a date to fix all the problems in your relationship. Of course, you accept thinking that he realized how wrong he was the whole time.
Kento takes you for a walk around Tokyo, treating him like his savior. You have ice cream together, hold hands, laugh together and even kiss.
He tells you that he has a surprise for you. — "Could you like to see it?". Are you really going to refuse now that your boyfriend seems to be changing for the better? Absolutely no.
Your boyfriend takes you to a neighborhood near the outskirts of the city, he takes you to a house, a nice house. — "A neighbor of mine asked me to take care of his house while he's abroad". He takes you inside. The house is a bit empty for being the house of a neighbor of his. You start feeling unwell.
Holding you from behind to start kissing you. — "Kento… Can we just leave? I wanna go back home…". Oh dear, how do I tell you this?
You're doomed.
He takes a rope and wraps it around your neck to keep you still. — "Darling… please. I don't want you to leave…".
He turns you around to kiss you but you start to push him away. Who might believe that your boyfriend would be able to do something like this. You can feel your heartbeat beating faster as your anxiety starts rising up, this must be a joke, right? Unfortunately no.
He tighten the grip of the rope on your neck, depriving you from breathing. — "You don't get it… You don't. You're my world, I can't be happy if I see you flirting and laughing with others". You can tell the pain and rage in his voice as he talks to you, holding you tighter, taking all possibility from you to escape. — "You're mine, darling".
No matter how much you fight or beg, he wants to keep you there, captivating. This could be easy for you, this could have been so easy but you decided to condemn yourself by simply saying: — "I hate you…" You… hate him?
He opens his eyes wide, he can't believe what you said… But surprisingly he looks pretty chill… suspiciously chill.
He stays in silence, thinking about what you said and all that he has done. — "... It's okay, darling". He smiles at you, gently and calmly as he holds your face with one of his hands. He drops the rope and caresses your neck and the marks the rope left.
— "Darling…". He kisses you softly, not caring about your fear or disgust. — "If I can't have you, no one can".
Before you can even react, Kento is already strangling you. His warm hands holding your neck in a deadly grip. You can see his eyes full of resentment and desire.
Not satisfied enough and in a trance of anger and jealousy, he stamps your head against the wall violently. You feel the stinging throb on the back of your head, it makes you feel dizzy and numb. But it doesn't stop there, he keeps banging your head against the wall, all while his hands are still strangling you.
The commission is immense, immeasurable to the point you can't even think about fighting and escaping. You're completely petrified. Kento seems to be possessed by something or someone that is blinding his reason and your own pain.
The minutes keep passing and your boyfriend is beating you to death. The pain isn't unbeatable anymore, it's even comforting now that you realize this is the end and you won't escape.
You think about your family, about your friends, about the warnings that your classmates made about him but you decided to ignore. You think about your life, a short one but full of nice moments that you maybe didn't appreciate enough. You think about all your struggles, triumphs, goals and dreams.
You start feeling extremely tired, just like if you were about to faint. In your last moments of life, you apologize, in your mind, to your family and friends for not being able to go home ever again…
Even when your body succumbs, he doesn't stop hurting you until some minutes after when he snaps out. He just killed you with his bare hands. — "Wha… What?... Darling?". The blonde guy is in a state of shock when your body falls inert to the floor. How could that possibly happen? He doesn't remember using so much strength, he wasn't even hitting you so hard… Why is there blood on the wall and a hole on your head?
He killed you.
He's a monster, no. He was protecting you, yes. Absolutely yes. He was protecting you from the people that hurt him and was trying to take you away from him, now no one will ever touch you again. It was an act of love and because he loves you so much he's going to bear all your sins in him
Next morning, Kento woke up in that house, brushed his teeth, washed his face and went to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich for breakfast.
Today's breakfast is a sandwich, a roast beef and cheese sandwich.
— "I will always love you, you know?" Nanami was talking alone and eating his sandwich with a pleased smile. — "I know it will take some days but that's how commitment is. Just like marriage where we become one with each other…"
He peacefully eats his sandwich slowly, taking note of all the flavors and sensations he's having. It's delightful, fulfilling. After finishing his sandwich he thanks his love for everything, for making him happy. Then his expression darkens and he looks for a second at the fridge to then look once more at the empty plate.
— "So this is how you taste, darling…"
it took me fuckin forever! *sweats* not sure if im gonna post something this explicit of dark for a time 🫠 it was hard to write. thanks god our real nanamin is just an emo boi ‹𝟹
#jjk nanami#nanami kento#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#nanami x reader#nanami headcanons#jjk x reader#nanami headcanon#nanami drabbles#yandere!nanami#yandere nanami#teen!nanami#teen nanami#yandere jjk#. bibi's writing
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Sins in Stardust (Bill Cipher/Reader)
OKAY SO. I've been thinking of Ideas since I got HORRIFICALLY fixated on Bill/Gravity Falls. I still do like the "bill's hot wife" idea but I gotta think abt how that wld work, logistically. I can't get off if the plot doesn't make sense. BUT I do have. Another reader insert idea.
Post Weirdmageddon and technically post Book of Bill. I couldn't read the full book in detail bc all I had was a kinda blurry pdf to work with so I'm missing some details.
This is the first chapter just 2 kinda gauge interest. I'm only posting it here rn until I write out a couple more :3 Feel free to leave a reply or tag if u reblog to let me know what u think
EDIT: Came up with a title I liked :3 I need to stop crutching on Hozier song titles LMAO
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You missed camping- you and your parents went at least once every summer, when you were a kid. A good old cross-country camping trip is what you needed, after the multitude of bullshit you’ve gone through. You quit your job, sold whatever shit you didn’t need and used the money you had to get out of your home as fast as you could. You’ll find a new place to settle, a new job in a new city with new neighbors and never have to worry again. All you had to worry about, now, is finding a fun spot to camp for the night.
You could sleep in your car- you have a few times since you started your trip- but it was a gorgeous night. The moon was full, the stars were so bright and clear this far out from a major city… It’d be a waste. You pulled your car off the road and trekked a bit out into the woods nearby. Hopefully your car would still be there in the morning. Please, God, let it be there in the morning.
You entered into a small break in the trees. The late spring breeze made the leaves sway and branches rattle softly. The starlight caught on the toadstools odd triangular spots. Eye-shaped spots on the trees seemed to follow you as you stepped into the small field. Like looking at creepy paintings in a haunted house, you felt like you were being watched. It was a little creepy, but you chalked it up to the full moon. Everyone was on edge during a full moon just because of stories and superstitions they all heard growing up.
The brightest thing in the clearing was a small statue, half buried in the ground. A triangle with a large eye, tophat, and bowtie. A single arm stuck out, as if ready for a handshake. The stone itself seemed to glow, but you chalked that up to the brightness of the moonlight that filtered through the canopy. You stepped a bit closer, noting how… quiet the area was. No birds, no crickets… Nothing. It was a little unsettling, you wouldn’t lie. Quiet woods never led to anything good. You really should go back to your car.
You pulled out your phone, first, though. You had to get a picture of this funky little guy. You were probably overthinking things. The statue was probably just someone’s abandoned art project, or store mascot, you thought as you snapped a few pictures of the lichen-covered statue. You smiled slightly. The little thing was kinda charming.
You decided to put your tent up anyway, despite the eerie silence. It was late, you were tired, and your car was still close enough to this clearing that you’d probably be in “danger” anyway. If you even were actually in trouble. The silence and the eye-spots on the trees were unsettling, sure. Weirdly enough, though, you felt a sense of calm here.
You decided against setting up a fire, opting to eat a can of cold pork’n’beans for dinner as you looked up at the stars. The sky was alight with blues and pinks and purples, seemingly swirling nebulas catching the attention of any being capable of comprehending beauty. You felt yourself smiling to yourself.
“Beautiful night, huh li’l guy?” You joked to the statue. You missed the way the eye-spots on the trees had stopped following you, instead focusing on the night sky. You threw the empty can of beans into a bag to throw away tomorrow, before rolling out your sleeping bag and laying out under the stars. You crossed your arms behind your head, and one foot over the other. Obviously, you were met with the same silence that had been here. Humans would be humans, though. Bonding with anything that even remotely had a face.
“Bet it gets lonely, stuck out here. Sure you got the view, but it sounds like nothing really drops by.” Nothing. The stars above almost seemed to move. You could almost make a shape out, but as soon as you tried it seemed to dissipate. You hummed to yourself, trying to find the shape again.
“I know how it feels to be stuck, buddy,” you offered, sympathetically. You sighed as a heavy feeling settled on your chest. You shook away the bad memories, the stars seeming to move again to keep your attention. It was getting a little weird, now. But you had heard that Gravity Falls was a pocket of weirdness in the middle of nowhere.
“I could use a traveling buddy,” you laughed. “I haven’t had… a friend in a long time…” You trailed off as the stars continued to twinkle and dance. You sat up with a heavy sigh, face to face with the statue again. Unsurprisingly, he stared at you stoically with his hand still poised for a handshake. You put your chin in your hand.
“And it’s driven me so crazy I’m talking to an old ARG piece left in the woods…” You rubbed your face. You stood with a stretch, the light around you seemingly getting a little brighter. You stepped in front of the statue.
“They use us and leave us to rot, don’t they? Hardly fair,” you mumble. You reach a hand out as if to grab its hand, but stop short of actually touching it. The hair on the back of your neck stood as you felt a million eyes on you at once. You look behind you, only to be met with the trees. You look up, and find the stars once again in the vague shape you couldn’t make out before. It felt like the very universe was watching this moment. Your throat felt tight. Strangely, though, you didn’t feel scared. You looked back at the waiting statue. Something prodded at the back of your mind.
“Maybe I will take you with me. Once I get settled somewhere, you can become a piece in my next living room,” you smiled. “I’ll get you cleaned up and see if I can patch some of those chips and cracks.”
You hesitated a moment, before you grasped the statue’s hand. Obviously, the stone limb didn’t actually move.
“I’ll get you out of here, you be my travel partner, and we both get to be free for a while. How’s that sound?” No response. Not that you expected one. You let the little hand go with a yawn. You kicked your shoes off near your sleeping bag and lay back down on it. The stars finally stopped shifting and swirling. They twinkled down at you as you covered yourself up for the night. You didn’t think it’d rain, so sleeping outside should be fine. You’ll deal with whatever happens, if anything.
You dreamt of the stars that night. They swirled above you, forming into a large creature that swam its way to you. You floated among the stars, eyes wide with wonder at the smiling creature. Its tail swept along the empty space beside you, leaving a small… child? It was a triangle with a huge eye, like the statue in the woods, but had giant shoes. It didn’t look at you at first, instead staring at the creature made of starlight and space dust in front of you. You also turned your gaze back to it.
The Axolotl stared down at you two, a peaceful smile on its face. You felt small under its gaze- like a child looking up at their parent. You reached out to pat it on the nose, finding your hand smaller than usual. You heard a squeaking noise and turned to look at the triangular baby.
“You see the stars too?” You didn’t know how he asked without a mouth, but you nodded anyway. Your 5 year old face was reflected in his large eye. He held a hand out for you to hold.
“You wanna watch them together?” You were quiet. You turned back to the Axolotl, only to find it swimming away from you. Back to depths of the universe you could only imagine. With no other option, you looked back at the kid next to you. His eye was turned up to show that he’d be smiling, if he had a mouth. His eye crinkled more as you grabbed his hand.
The stars began to burn.
You woke with a start, finding the sun creeping over the tree canopy and shining down on you. You groaned and covered your eyes with your forearm. You forced yourself to sit up, rubbing your eyes with your hand. Your head was pounding, the strange dream leaving you in a cold sweat. Maybe you shouldn’t have slept here.
A groan from in front of you made you freeze. Your head snapped up, making it throb. A triangular creature was sitting where the statue used to be, stone splintered and sprinkled around him. He massaged his singular eye, muttering under his breath. He looked up, tensing when he saw you. You both sat there in stunned silence for what felt like forever.
Then you both screamed.
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"l’amore è cieco" - eren x reader - 18+!!!
back to the ti penso universe!!! finally!! did you guys miss it? i know i did; i am utterly obsessed with these two. i've had this sitting in my unfinished wip pile for way too long not to share.
our lovebirds have gotten the wedding all wrapped up with, so we're a solid four years past them reuniting in italy....and surprise! they're expecting!!!!! i could literally scream just writing that; the grip dad!eren has on me will never let up, i fear......anyways, this one's a little rough because i've picked it apart a thousand times and i'm just tired of editing, so you guys enjoy!!! sorry if it's not quite up to par :/
pairing: eren x reader
wc: 4k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, reader is pregnant, use of names (baby, mama, pretty, beautiful, etc), swearing, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, lactation kink, creampie, crying, tooth-rotting fluff
title means "love is blind" in italian, per tradition w this verse <3
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Right on schedule with your new daily, depressing routine, you stand in front of the mirror running your hands over your body, examining the recent changes. On second thought, scrutinizing might be a better word.
You’re grateful your job has allowed you to work from home for your entire pregnancy, editing articles from the journalists who can actually travel while snuggled up on your couch, but the downside of it is that you’ve had far too much time to mull on all of the ways your body has stretched and warped to accommodate the growing little girl in your stomach. You thought pregnancy was supposed to be beautiful, and sometimes it is, but more often than not, you just feel like a swollen, hormonal mess.
You “popped”, as all the mommy podcasts say, about two weeks ago, and thin stretch marks have begun to appear on your stomach. Eren calls them your “tiger stripes”, having been in full-blown cringe dad mode since the day you took the test. Bizarre cravings control you at all hours of the day, evidenced by the little black crumbs you’re picking out of your sports bra, left behind by your fourteen-Oreo breakfast today. You gaze longingly at the jewelry box on your bathroom counter; you haven’t been able to wear your wedding band in weeks, the tan line already beginning to fade from your finger. Before you can get a hold of yourself, the hormones have you in their grip, and hot, frustrated tears are spilling down your cheeks.
“Babe, have you seen that tie with the red–” Eren materializes in the doorway with absolutely no warning, as he’s prone to do, but cuts himself off at the sight of you, “baby, no, again?”
“Don’t say it like that,” you say, reluctantly allowing him to take you in his arms.
“Like what?” Eren’s voice is sweet, but hesitant. He’s been living under the constant threat of getting his head bitten off for mundane reasons because of you. It makes you feel worse, makes you shove him away and glare at him accusingly.
“Like I’m always fucking crying.” You are always crying, but you wish he would at least muster up some semblance of surprise at finding you in tears yet again. You turn away from him, wiping your face in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Your flight leaves in like, three hours.”
“I’ll cancel,” Eren coos, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, picking your belly up in his hands.
It’s some hack he got off Tik Tok, supposed to take the weight off of your back for a precious moment, and as much as you don’t necessarily want to be touched right now, it actually helps. You’ve been alternating between thinking Eren’s overenthusiastic parenting research is adorable and mind-numbingly annoying, but for the moment, your back has stopped aching for the first time all morning, and you sigh, leaning into him.
“You can’t cancel,” you murmur, momentarily soothed, “‘s a big client. Where is it again? France?”
“I just got back from France, Miss Pregnancy Brain,” Eren chuckles, quieting immediately upon catching your lethal gaze in the mirror. “It’s just over in LA, and honestly, I could have Hitch go if you need me.”
“No, I can take care of myself, it’s just like…” a fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks, “fuck, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”
Eren nods into your shoulder, letting you sniffle. It’s not a new trait, your outright refusal to ask for help, but it’s been exacerbated by your pregnancy, especially considering exactly how much help you actually need now.
You’ve taken custody of all of his sweatpants, not yet able to bring yourself to buy maternity clothes. You’d walked in sobbing and humiliated the other day because you’d peed yourself on the long elevator ride up to your apartment in front of the neighbors. You can’t sleep on your stomach anymore; Eren has to prop himself up just right beside you and sandwich you between himself and a wall of pillows to stop you from turning. You know it hurts him seeing you miserable, and you try to suck it up and enjoy the positives of pregnancy as much as you can, but you can’t muster up that strength every day.
“Hush,” Eren pulls your wet face to his chest, letting you stain the Number 1 Dad! t-shirt he had bought himself. “I’m not going.”
“Eren–”
“I’m not,” he says firmly, rubbing small circles into the bottom of your spine, “you need me here, whether you want to admit it or not.”
You grumble complacently, nuzzling into him. You do need him, as much as you want to think you can tough it out on your own. Eren’s bought book after book, not just for the baby, but for you. Most nights you find him reading titles like You’ve Made the Baby…Now What? or How to Survive Pregnancy: A Guide for Men with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a habit that, despite your efforts, you cannot nag him out of. It’s cute, honestly, how over-the-top he’s gotten with baby prep, especially when you’re often too exhausted to wrap your mind around reading a parenting guide.
“I feel ugly,” you admit quietly, sticky and snotty against his shirt. “I feel disgusting.”
“What?” Eren’s reaction is one of genuine confusion. He pushes you away from him so he can search your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate.
“I’m gaining an obscene amount of weight, my ankles are the size of my knees, I can’t wear a single one of my rings, what am I supposed to feel like?”
Eren frowns. “Those things are supposed to happen. I read last night–”
“I don’t care!” Your voice cracks under the weight of your frustration, and you press your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to regain control of your temper. “I don’t care that it’s supposed to happen. It still sucks.”
“I think you’re beautiful,” Eren sounds earnest, but you scoff at him anyway.
“We’re married. You’re supposed to say that.”
“I don’t have to.”
You cock an eyebrow at him. “If you want your head to stay on your shoulders you do.”
Eren laughs at that, tugging you over to stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. “So, you’re serious? You genuinely don’t think you look good pregnant?”
“No,” you rub at your nose, “I don’t.”
Eren looks up at you, cupping your face gently. “I disagree.”
“Do you really?”
“I think you look better than ever.”
“That’s an insult to non-pregnant me,” you roll your eyes, moving to step away, but Eren holds you tight between his legs.
“It’s not,” he insists, “there’s just some things your pregnant body has that you didn’t necessarily have before. Some things that I like.”
You cock an eyebrow at him. “Cankles?”
Eren chuckles breathily, shaking his head. “I adore your cankles, but they weren't exactly the first thing that came to mind. Take these, for one thing.”
Eren presses his nose into your sports bra, hands moving up underneath to palm at your swollen tits. You let out a breathy laugh as he explores, already feeling a low heat beginning to simmer in your core. That’s one perk of entering your second trimester; your hormones might turn on a dime, but your sex drive has skyrocketed.
Eren shoves your bra up to free your tits, groaning appreciatively as he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You watch as he feels his way around with his mouth, humming contentedly under your breath, when suddenly, his eyes fly open and he shoots away from you.
“What?”
Eren shushes you, bringing a hand to the breast that had been in his mouth and squeezing lightly. White liquid beads on your nipple, and you cover your face in shame.
“When did that start?”
“A few days ago,” you admit, trying to push his hands off of you, cheeks burning. Eren swats you away, leaning back into your nipple, sucking harder. You can feel a small stream of milk leaving you, relieving some of the pressure in your tits; a moan rumbles deep in Eren’s chest, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Eren releases your nipple with a loud pop and looks up at you panting, eyes blown wide.
“Is it weird that that’s kinda hot?”
“Probably.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” you hum, threading your hands through his hair and urging him back to your chest, “feels good.”
That’s all Eren needs to hear, diving back into your chest with renewed vigor. As he continues, you realize it doesn’t just feel good, it actually feels incredible. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, but with the pregnancy, sensation has increased tenfold; you can feel your panties getting wetter as the weight of your full breast decreases. When Eren’s gotten all he can from your left nipple, he moves to your right, replacing his mouth on the now-abandoned nipple with his hand to twist gently at the wet skin.
The combined sensation makes your knees buckle; Eren saves you smoothly by wrapping an arm around your lower back, yanking you to him to straddle his leg. It’s the perfect angle for you to roll your hips against his thigh slowly, feeling the much-needed friction of his sweatpants against your cunt.
“Eren…” you breathe out, voice nothing more than a wisp of air.
“I know baby,” Eren speaks directly into your flesh, not willing to back away for even a moment, “feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Feels so good,” you whimper, clutching him to you with fistfuls of his hair.
“Told you this new body’s not so bad, hm?” Eren closes his teeth down on your nipple lightly; you almost keel over from the shockwave it sends through you.
You nod, rubbing yourself against his thigh faster. It’s awkward and cumbersome with your belly in the way, but it’s enough for now, enough to light your nerves on fire in that way that only Eren’s ever been able to.
“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Eren mutters, grabbing onto your hips to help you get your rhythm right, “you’re so perfect, and you don’t even see it.”
Your fingers dig into his arms as you moan. “But my stomach–”
“But nothing,” Eren kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “love your stomach, love your tits, love all of it. You think it doesn’t make me so fucking hard, watching you walk around with that big belly and knowing what it came from? I did that. We did that, didn’t we baby?”
“Mhm,” you bite into his shoulder, the friction on your clit through your sweatpants is getting to your head, making you dizzy. “Eren, Eren–”
“Sh sh sh,” Eren shushes you, moving so that he can look you in the eyes, “what do you need? Tell me.”
“I don’t– I don’t know, I just…” you can’t find the words, so in need of him that you can’t even decide what sounds best. His mouth? His fingers? All of it?
“Okay, okay,” Eren says quietly, standing you both up only to lay you against the pillows, “I’ve gotcha.”
He nudges his sweatpants down your legs, bringing your panties with them, spreads your legs so he can see the most intimate part of you. Eren brings his hand to your clit, rubbing tentatively, but you’re so desperate for him that it’s enough to make your back arch, a long, throaty moan ripping out of you. He lays beside you, gently playing with your clit and watching in awe at the reaction you give him, already a blubbering mess after only a few minutes.
“So sensitive, aren’t you mama?”
“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you at the name, “s-so sensitive. Need to cum, I need, n-need–”
“I’ll make you cum,” Eren promises, sinking a finger into you, “I’ll make you cum, baby.”
“Fuck, Eren, it’s– I can’t–”
“Feel good?”
“So fucking good,” you’re basically sobbing at this point, fingers clenched into the muscles of his bicep, clinging to him and humping his hand. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sex over the first trimester (“What if I hit the baby’s head?” Eren had asked nervously whenever you approached him) or the rawness of the sensation against your over-sensitive body, but you’ve never been so close to your orgasm so quickly.
You don’t hold out long; Eren’s skilled with even just one finger, and before long, you’re crying out his name, gushing all over his hand. Eren presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss despite having utterly destroyed you less than thirty seconds ago.
“Ready for me?”
“Sit,” you pant, pointing to the massive stack of pillows against your headboard. Eren raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does as he’s told, only pausing to pull his clothes off. The loss of the stupid dad t-shirt is a relief as much as feeling his bare chest under your hands. Due to your hormones, you’ve thrown Eren out of the house several times, and you’ve demanded to be alone enough to where his only solution is to go to the gym downstairs and work out until you’ve calmed down. It shows: his chest has grown broader and stronger, and the veins on his arms are nearly popping through the skin. “You look good.”
“Yeah?” Eren offers a shit-eating grin, flexing his bicep ever so subtly. “You should see yourself.”
“You seriously think I look good like this?” You’re straddling his hips now, rubbing your clit on his bare cock. It’s a lewd sight, his cock drooling on his abs, glistening with your cum; your cunt clenches around nothing, more than ready to be filled.
“Mhm, you look so fucking good like that,” Eren grunts, hands finding your hips again and lifting you up to sink you down on his cock, both of you letting out loud, satisfied groans, “but you look much better like this.”
You grind your hips against his, not possessing the energy to bounce your now-heavier body, but it makes you see stars. Eren rarely lets you ride him, much preferring to bend you over or pin you to the bed himself, but with your bump, you now have an excuse to hop on top of him whenever you like. It’s been close to a decade of fucking him, but the full stretch of him never fails to shock you, the way he pushes into you until you’re positive he’s in your stomach. With Eren sitting up, his cock stays firmly nestled against your g-spot, pushing little bits of squirt out of you with each movement of your hips.
“Eren–” you whimper, holding your breasts as you rock into him.
“Shit- you’re so tight like this,” Eren says through his clenched jaw, throwing his head back against the headboard, “why don’t you ride me more often?”
“You don’t let me,” you say with a watery giggle.
“Stupid,” Eren gasps, “‘m so fucking stupid.”
You’re too fucked out to voice your agreement, opting for sliding a hand down your body to flick at your clit. You can’t quite reach it around your bump, though, a discontented noise leaving your lips. Eren opens his eyes, takes notice of the way you’re hunching your back, and swats your hand away.
“I got it, I got it,” he pants, tucking his hand underneath your swollen belly to rub your clit just the way he knows you like it.
“Oh, f-fuck,” you choke out, throwing your head back.
“Good?”
“Yeah,” you hiss, “‘s perfect.”
“Take what you need, mama,” Eren’s watching you intently, a glimmer of admiration in his eye, “take what you need.”
You’re moaning pitifully, loud and wanton as Eren’s cock moves inside of you. Your cunt tightens around him desperately as the bubble building in your stomach threatens to explode.
“Think you get wetter like this, all swollen with my baby,” Eren muses, leaning forward to latch his mouth around one of your nipples where more milk has already started to pool. His words have a visceral reaction on you; you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you spiral towards your release.
“I think–I think I’m gonna– oh fuck, don’t stop,” you croon, rocking your hips as fast as you can manage. Eren mumbles around your nipple, something about how beautiful you look, and you come undone around him, grinding your hips hard against his and cradling him to your chest. He might have a point- there’s damn near a puddle of your arousal at the base of where you’re connected, slicking up the skin on his hips and the inside of your thighs.
“Better?” Eren pulls you in for a kiss; you can feel him grinning through it.
“Maybe a little,” you admit, laughing light and watery against his mouth.
“Mmm,” Eren hums, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you only to drop you down again and turn your laughter to a quiet whimper, “not good enough. Need you to be much better.”
“Fuck me, then,” you nip at his bottom lip, earn yourself a deep groan.
“Can you— can you hold yourself up like this?” Eren scooches both of you down, albeit, a little awkwardly, so that he can lay flat on the bed. He moves you up until you’ve only got him halfway inside of you, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you.
“Yeah, I–I think so.”
“And you’re sure I’m not going to hurt–”
“Jesus Christ– no Eren, it’s fine, just– fuck,” he cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips up into yours, grinning menacingly when your eyes roll back.
“Like that?”
“Just like that,” you moan, annoyance wiped from you with one clean stroke. Eren takes that for the green light that it is and starts pistoning his hips up into you, swearing under his breath. Even though he’d instructed you to hold yourself up, he makes good use of his new muscles, suspending you at the perfect height to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.
“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” Eren growls, “all swollen with my fuckin’ baby. Gonna keep you like this, give you as many as you want.”
“Eren–” you choke out, suffocating on the way he’s fucking you, his words, him. For the first time in months, you feel amazing, holding your chest and groaning long and loud as Eren thrusts up into you.
“Baby, I’m- fuck, not gonna–” Eren cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, throwing his head back.
“Cum in me,” you pant, nodding urgently at him, “want it so bad.”
“Oh fuck,” Eren groans, hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers are digging into your hips near to the point of pain, and that little frown he makes when he’s about to cum is crumpling his face. You do want it, badly.
“Please Eren, I need it,” you gasp, legs trembling on either side of his hips.
“Fucking love you, love you so much,” Eren slurs, hips stuttering. With a long, throaty moan, he slams you down one final time, cumming deep inside of you. You grind against him as he does, moaning along with him at the familiar warmth in your belly. Exhausted, you momentarily forget about your bump and try to collapse facefirst on him- that’s enough to snap Eren out of his post-orgasm haze.
“Whoa, whoa,” Eren shoves you back upright, lifting you under your shoulders and laying you on your back, “careful.”
You wince. “Shit, sorry. Sometimes I forget. It’s still sort of new.”
“I know,” Eren agrees, eyes locked lovingly on your baby bump, “love it, though.”
“Really?”
Eren cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “If that didn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”
You giggle at that; he’s always been good at this, cheering you up and diffusing your worries like it’s second nature. After ten years, it probably is at this point.
“I don’t mean to be so down on myself, really,” you sigh, tracing a finger over where his hand’s splayed on your stomach, “it’s just…so much harder than I thought it would be.”
Eren nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable. But you’re so good at it.”
“I haven’t even– what?” The insecurities that you’ve been successfully masking under good natured teasing and occasional annoyance come slipping from between your lips. You’ve thought it for weeks; how Eren’s so into all the baby stuff, so enthusiastic about learning everything he can, while all you’ve managed is trying not to gag when he cooks eggs in the morning and picking out some onesies. “What about all of your books and your podcasts and crap? You’re the one doing everything.”
“That’s all I can do,” Eren scoffs, “you’re doing all the hard stuff, like carrying the baby around and puking every morning and crying all the time–”
“Hey!”
“I’m serious,” Eren shushes you, “you’re putting in all the legwork. I mean, you’re literally growing our baby. You’re a fucking rockstar mom already. If anyone’s not doing enough here, it’s me.”
That’s one thing about Eren that will never get easier; his deep, unwavering admiration for you, no matter what you’re doing. Sure, it’s endearing when Eren spins you around in his arms for something as simple as finally getting that croissant recipe to come out well, but when he’s praising you for something that’s actually difficult? It’s sweet enough to give you a cavity, warm your heart, and turn your cheeks pink all at once, even after all this time.
“Well, if you’d like to take a shift carrying her around, be my guest. She’s a chunky little thing already,” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into Eren’s ribs to mask the flush rising to your face.
“I’d do it for you if I could,” Eren sighs in faux-thoughtfulness, “but I wouldn’t look half as hot.”
You giggle furiously when he lands a slap to your ass, swatting at his chest. “God, it still doesn’t feel real, does it? A little girl that’s half you, half me.”
“It does and it doesn’t,” Eren shrugs, bringing a hand back to your stomach, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about it since Italy.”
You gape at him. “That long?”
“You know I’m always ahead of you on this stuff,” Eren teases, squeezing your cheeks together, “knew I wanted you first, knew I wanted you back first, knew we should get married…”
“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his bragging, “it’s just, like…are we ready? To do this?”
“This?” Eren cocks his head.
“The whole…‘parents’ thing.”
“Putting aside the fact that you're way too late to be having those kinds of thoughts,” Eren says, rubbing your lower back, “of course we’re ready. There’s no perfect parents, but I believe in us– believe in you. Gonna be the best mama any baby’s ever had, I know you will.”
“I don’t even…oh, Eren.” You’re tearing up again–damn hormones. Eren wipes at your tears, planting a big kiss on your forehead.
“I mean it. You’re going to be great, already are,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you just like that for a few moments, letting you nuzzle into his chest, until his little grin grows wicked. “Although…the only thing I can say I am worried about is which one of us is going to accidentally teach her her first swear word. Should we bet on it?"
Even through your tears, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that’s going to be Jean. Especially after what you taught Clara the last time we babysat.”
Eren barks out a laugh. “Hey, hearing her call Jean ‘Daddy Jackass’ was funny, and you know it!”
“Thanks for reminding me,” you smirk, “now I know what I’m teaching our little girl first.”
“No way!”
#eren jaeger x reader#eren yeager x reader#eren jaeger smut#eren yeager smut#aot x reader#snk x reader#snk fanfiction#aot fanfiction#eren jaeger fanfic#eren jaeger fanfiction#ti penso universe#ti penso uni
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Be still made, my beloved crossbow (or 'let's talk about Durge's other other weapon... and maybe a bit about Stillmaker too')
You've read this post, friends. You know it's true, I know it's true. (And it's bloody beautiful by the way, lovely job @darkurgediaries.)
But wait, there's more.
Let's have a quick chat about the Hellfire Engine Crossbow, because if Stillmaker is Durge's blade from Gortash, this is Durge's side-bitch from him... or it was meant to be, anyway. Man never quite got around to piecing it all together.
Okay, let's start with er... I mean look at it. It's white, has a phoenix head on it - a creature that symbolises resurrection, rebirth and immortality, how very Durge, and is also associated with sun gods when Gortash is this easy to turn into a Lathanderan and that guy brings light to each new day - and it's also embossed with Gortash and the Steel Watch's black and gold motif.
And then you take a mechanical look at it and... hang on.
What are you doing here, Lightning Arrow? The Steel Watch don't have Lightning Arrow, but you know who does have Lightning Arrow? Rangers - archery experts, usually - at level nine and up. And who can we consider that's on level nine and is really good at archery?
And who can we consider who might run out of lightning-basic magic in the heat of battle; who is white, and has a theme of rebirth either by rejecting Daddy Bhaal outright or embracing them anew, and knows a sun-coded Radiant guy, and may once have had business in the Foundry?
Well hello The Dark Urge Vanilla Edition, our old spicy friend. There's also the lovely addition of Reposition Malefactor - Lightning Arrow, grab, Stillmaker stab. Classic Baldurian efficiency.
You know what kills me about Gortash's Radiant coding and Durge's Lightning? The first thing you see of lightning is its flash, its brilliance, and the second thing you see is its destruction. The light isn't the part that hurts you, but it's inextricably linked to the thing itself, just as you can't have the destruction without the light. Symbiosis. Gortash could have been thunder-coded, but... no. Thunder isn't destructive, not usually. It doesn't happen at the same time in the storm.
It's not symbiotic... it's not equal.
... Yeah no, I'm fine, not emotional at all. No sir, could not be me. Despite being level nine too, Gortash doesn't have Lightning Arrow. Why would you need lightning, when your beloved has it in their veins, when you've made them a crossbow specifically for it? You just bring the 'light' part, don't you?
Symbiosis. Peace and love on planet Faerûn. Anyway...
If we must consider the application of Lightning Arrow as a helpful aid to the depleted Storm Sorceror, we should probably consider Stillmaker's equivalent.
Hold Person. Hold. Person. Which, yes - very useful bit of utility for our lovely Durge to have, 100% - but then you consider the fifteen separate dimensions of romantic overtones in Durgetash and you just can't help but feel: Hold Person. It's a bloody hug. It's support. He's made it easier for you to slaughter people, which at least used to be your favourite thing to do.
So Gortash has A. made your murdering life much more fun because you can savour the kill and B. made sure you can still kill from a distance if anyone else happens to be around and you're tired.
What a complete fucking simp. 🥺❤
On the subject of Stillmaker in fact, much as the Fabricated Arbalest to the Hellfire Engine, it's rather different to Durge's main dagger, Bloodthirst.
This is pure function. Made to please Papa in the most gruesome way possible, whichever hand you feel like using to wield it.
Whereas Stillmaker... it's got an attached hug. It's got a wavy blade, perfect for the task of slicing and dicing - one that's very difficult to forge, that must have taken time and care.
... Well. Must have taken a mortal time and care. Because lest we forget, it's not the only wavy blade Durge owns.
... Seriously, Larian. How are you going to make both of them wavy. I'm on your ceiling fans.
It's two separate dimensions to Durge's life, in two blades with the same nastiness to them - absolute utility, versus actual care.
This is literally more intricate than the thing presumably given by a god. That's going to tear like a bitch, truly. And it's even got Bhaal's delightful countenance up front and centre. What was that devnote, about convincing the child of a god that they're not a monster? Mm...
Oh, I don't know. It's almost like, for a while anyway, Durge's connection to Gortash was more important than the one to their father. Maybe they wrote something about that very thing, in fact. Imagine. 🥲
I'd like to take this opportunity to also note the very violent and Thunder-mentioning text attached to the Hellfire Engine...
... And the fact it's found in three parts, because y'know, Dead Three.
There's only one minor flaw in this whole thing, really. One teensy little tiny problematic detail.
Sorcerors, unlike Gortash, can't use Heavy Crossbows.
... But, then, they can't use shortswords either.
I'll let you be the judge, shall I?
#enver gortash#the dark urge#durgetash#baldur's gate 3#bg3 meta#happy pride 🌈#:)))#sherlock holzmes strikes again#this is your sign to make your default durge storm 11 and fighter 1 😙
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I always knew... SFW
Hey all!
I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything lately... things happened and I didn't have the energy to write.
Echo's sequel is coming, I just need to edit. I have a Tech fluff in the works and I promise I'll for Wrecker and Crosshair soon.
Anyway, here's a Hunter fic for you! I do have a smutty part 2 planned for this one, I just need the energy to write it.
CW: Angst, emotional torment, jealousy, idiots in love, protective Hunter, Hemlock trying to manipulate reader
Word count: 2673
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Once you had settled in Pabu, you thought the missions were over but no. You still went on missions for credits, or to help Phee retrieve some artifact. You didn’t mind, but it always felt like they were becoming more and more dangerous with less chance of all of you coming back alive. When you did all come back alive, it was a different opponent you silently fought on Pabu.
You didn’t know what it was about Shep’s sister-in-law that made your skin crawl. Only that she was a sweet talker and could manipulate very easily. Phee was always cordial with her, but Tech and Echo made their distrust very clear while being polite. What you didn’t like was how all over Hunter she was. Hunter never made it clear whether he was interested or not which made you on edge. The way she was flirting and touching him made you feel sick every time you saw it.
“You, okay?” Wrecker elbowed you, snapping you out of thought.
You looked around and saw everyone staring at you expectantly. Hunter’s face was set in an unreadable way, so you didn’t know if he was annoyed or concerned.
“Hm, yeah,” you smiled. “Just a bit tired. What did I miss?”
You were re-briefed on the newest mission and your role in it. You were to sneak with Tech and Echo to retrieve the information needed for Rex about Hemlock’s location on Tantiss while Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair were to draw fire if it was needed, Phee was the getaway driver while Tech was occupied. While Echo plugged into the station, Tech would go on about decryption and you would scour for all relevant information as Echo transferred and moved files around, all while keeping the alarms off.
Hunter looked at you expectantly and you nodded. “Yes Hunter, I know what to do.”
“Alright. Let’s stock up and head out in 4 hours,” Hunter ordered.
You all dispersed to stock up on rations and equipment and as you left, you saw Meela saunter up to Hunter, practically laying herself on his chest. You heard her compliment his commandeering and how he was so strong for your team. You rolled your eyes as Hunter looked down at her and thanked her before taking her waist and moving her elsewhere. You gagged slightly before moving things onto the Marauder. Crosshair noticed and chuckled a little. Everyone knew of your crush on the sergeant but at your request (begging) the squad swore to not tell Hunter. Besides, it was best for him to figure it out on his own.
“You’re really not going to say anything?” the sniper snarked as he loaded his shooter above his bunk.
You glanced over from your spot, where you were loading rations into the compartments. You shook your head and kept quiet. You really didn’t want to have this conversation, especially with the chance Hunter might walk in at any time.
“Alright then. Keep your secrets sarad. He’ll find out eventually.”
Hunter joined you not long after. He made orders to move out earlier than expected. Wrecker shoved his equipment in the compartment before settling into his bunk, Echo and Tech finished upgrades on the ship and you closed your compartment to finish stocking once you were on the move.
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“Gods sarad! Can’t you go faster?” Echo asked desperately. “They’ll be on us any second!”
“Two more seconds! I’ll find it!” You were frantically sorting through files while Tech decrypted everything. You made a sound of success and told Echo which one to grab.
The mission went wrong from the get-go. You weren’t counting on motion sensors or silent alarms. The Empire typically used overwhelming numbers and force to counter an opponent but this time it was a shock to you all when Crosshair commed almost instantly once you were inside that you needed to move fast as there were troops converging on your location. Hunter and Wrecker distracted some troops and drew their fire but there were still troops coming.
Echo disengaged from the station and Tech unplugged his datapad. You all drew your blasters and set out to rendezvous at the ship. You all ran frantically, exchanging blaster fire behind you.
You didn’t look where your foot landed and tripped, falling flat on your face. Echo and Tech paused, and you screamed at them to keep going. You’d be fine! The mission was more important. They hesitated but saw you get up before they were rushing off to the rendezvous point.
You got yourself up and shot the four troopers surrounding you. You ran to catch up, but a trooper was able to stun you from a blind spot. The last thing you saw was troopers surrounding you and picking you up before you blacked out.
This was not good. I’m sorry guys… I’m sorry Hunter.
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You had assumed you’d be transferred and thrown into a cell but as you walked around the room you’d been given, you wondered what Hemlock’s game was. You sat on the bed, hoping this wasn’t some sort of seduction tactic. Hemlock wasn’t your type. Your type was back on the Marauder, being flown back to Pabu to see his ill-defined girlfriend. Whether or not Hunter knew, you saw Meela draped over him in a supply closet before heading out and he had made no move to remove her. So, with a broken heart, you walked on, pretending to not see them.
“Still wondering if your clones will find you?” a voice resonated behind you.
You turned and found Hemlock standing in your entryway. He placed something on a shelf near the entranceway before approaching you, a smirk on his face.
You shrugged. “That depends entirely on if they got away or not. I told them the mission comes first and to not risk their lives for me. So, Royce Hemlock, if they escaped then they’ll probably return to our base. It’ll be a while before they notice I’m gone.” You hated saying it, but you felt it a little bit true. The batch had their own lives blooming, and you didn’t know if you were part of it.
“Hmm,” Hemlock mused. “It must be hard not knowing if you have a place with them. Not knowing if they value you to come for you.”
You raised a brow. Your boys cared for you as their own. You were a family. What in the Force was he talking about? They had to come back for you… right?
___________________________________________________________
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE’S NOT HERE?” Hunter roared. “You three were supposed to be here before any of us!”
Phee looked concerned, she’d never seen the boys this angry or upset before. You were clearly more important to them than they led on. She knew you were their medic and an integral party of their little family but with the way Hunter was acting and the others reacting, it was clear they cared for you much more than she thought.
“We have to go back for her!” Omega begged. She nearly lost Crosshair to the Empire. She wasn’t about to lose you too.
Tech sighed, “She was right behind us. She told us to keep moving after she fell, and we heard her breathing heavily behind us. Besides, we have no idea where she is. For all we know she’s been moved and detained. It’ll be more prudent to regroup and plan. Maybe she’ll find a way to escape and alert us.”
Hunter stared into one of the monitors on the ship, staring at the picture you all took of each other after a successful mission. Your smiling face, adrenaline filled eyes, messy braids, and everything about you. Over his dead body he’d abandon you now.
“We’re going back for her.” He growled. “Now.”
Tech looked at the ships communication system and noticed it flashing. “That may not be necessary. It seems she’s found us,” he said, noticing the comm channel matched yours.
Accepting the comm, Hunter’s face set in a hard line, seeing Hemlock’s face.
______________________________________________________________
Smirking in the clone’s face, Hemlock set the communicator down in a position that showed you and him in the bedroom. He wanted to play a game and let these clones know just how disposable they were to you.
“So,” Hemlock started, muting Hunter’s end of the call. “You believe the clones don’t care for you? That’s not like them. Their sense of family and loyalty is remarkably well-known.”
You grimaced, wanting him to stop talking. You knew that about clones. Everyone knew that about clones. You fought alongside them for 2 years. You knew the loyalty clones felt to each other and their generals; before Order 66 of course. It was their genetic specimen, Jango Fett, that gave them their sense of loyalty. Mandalorians were notorious for their family strength. It was like they were genetically incapable of not taking children under their wing or forming a family. You’d heard stories of Jango only wanting an unaltered clone to raise as his son, and other Mandalorians taking foundlings and orphans and giving them a home.
“You don’t need to remind me. I know them well enough.”
Smirking, Hemlock swiped a lock of hair behind your ear. “Oh, but you said you didn’t know if they noticed you were gone. Do you not feel a part of their little family?”
Wrecker and Omega were such mischiefs that you rarely saw them unless they were hungry and eating. Echo was usually on his own or with Rex, Tech was with Phee and Hunter… gods knew if he was with Meela a lot of the time. You made a face and Hemlock noticed the flare of anger in your eyes.
Looking over, he saw Hunter and Omega screaming silently from the comm, begging you to see them. The game the doctor was playing was deliciously agonising for them and he was loving it.
“Perhaps it’s time you found a new family. I’m always looking for an assistant. Especially one familiar with medical practices.”
You side-eyed the doctor, sensing the flirtation and desire to have you change to his team. To join the Empire.
“No. I have no desire to leave them. I just… It’s hard being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back. Especially when they love someone else.”
Smiling wider, he set his trap. “Ah, unrequited love. I’m guessing a certain sergeant hasn’t noticed your affections. They’re clear as day to everyone around you, how has he not noticed?”
Hunter was hitting the durasteel beside him, screaming for you to look at him.
“NO! Of course, I noticed! I could always sense it!”
The batch watched helplessly as their medic was interrogated and teased and their sergeant cried helplessly that he cared. They never noticed how sad you were, loving the security they had on Pabu. Crosshair grimaced, looking silently to Wrecker and Echo, both of whom knew like he did of your affections towards Hunter. They just never guessed how torturous it was for you to keep it hidden. You wore your heart on your sleeve, hiding your feelings must've been draining.
“I always knew… I just didn’t want to risk losing you…” Hunter felt useless and powerless. He wanted to scoop you up and hold you tightly, promising that you’d never feel this way again. They failed you; Hunter failed you. They failed in making you know and assuring you of your place with them and their love for you.
You scowled. How dare this small man try and worm his way into your good graces through false sympathy. “I don’t know what your game is Hemlock. But regardless of my feelings, my sergeant is happy with his partner and the others are content. As long as he’s happy with Meela, I don’t care how I feel.”
Hunter’s head shot up. Meela? You thought he was with Meela? Meela was the one hitting on him! He never cared about Meela! He just didn’t want to hurt anyone so restrained himself from touching her, even if to remove her from his space. He couldn’t bear to even be near the woman with how thick she laid it on, regardless of his rejections. He had told Meela many times that he wasn’t interested and that his sights were set on someone else, but she wouldn’t let up. When she came onto him that day in the supply closet, he was sure if he pushed her away, he’d push her into the wall and cause injury.
“I mean, Meela is lithe and beautiful and smart and witty and quick.” You ran your hand through your hair, messing it and giving Hemlock a sense that you were losing control of yourself. “I mean, she’s the whole package! Who am I to that? Just some civilian that was assigned to them. They didn’t even need me!”
How could you say that? Of course, they needed you! You made the team better! They would probably be all dead if not for you! Hunter’s fists were tightening until he could feel himself leaving indents under his body glove.
“Tech is the smartest man alive! He was perfectly capable of acting medic without me!” Tears bloomed in your eyes, hating how easy this man was pulling these fears out of you… supposedly.
Hemlock smiled in Hunter’s direction, loving the look of helplessness in the clone’s eyes.
“Sounds like they took advantage of you and your talents.” He wiped a tear from your cheek. “A lovely young woman such as you? Anyone would be lucky to have the honor of your affections.”
Sighing, you allowed yourself to decompress. “No… they never did that. It was wartime. I was never a priority. Love was never a priority, not even for me.”
Hemlock was getting frustrated with you. Every time you would walk into his trap, you’d slide yourself out of it. Which was the game you were playing.
You clued into what his intentions were pretty quickly. The good doctor wanted to make you insecure and question your place with Clone Force 99 so you would join him and gain a sense of security. It was very amusing to you, to see him start to flounder. He kept trying to set you up to become sad and turn against your family and it was so funny to you. As insecure as you were about your place with the batch, they were loyal to you and you to them.
Eventually you saw the communicator by the door and saw Hunter near tears and you realized he heard everything you’d said. You smiled and subtly nodded to him, letting him know you were okay. Your family was coming for you, and you’d wait for them forever.
“Well,” Hemlock stood, smoothing his robes out. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts. We shall see if your clones come rescue their medic.” He “calmly” stormed out, gripping his gloved hand in anger. As much as he wanted to hurt you, you were more valuable alive and well and could bargin.
“Tech, you get those coordinates?” Hunter asked frantically. He wasn’t going to make you wait anymore then you had to.
Nodding, Tech quickly punched them into the navigation system and set off to your location.
Hunter had a new mission now. His mission was to bring you home, tell you his feelings and love you for the rest of his life. He had been yours for years now; since the Clone Wars started and since you were assigned as their medic. Your loving nature, wit, intelligence, charisma, and so much of you and who you were made Hunter weak in the knees. As your commanding officer, Hunter had to maintain a distance and so while he made it clear he cared for you as a part of the squad, he made sure to swallow his feelings, so he didn’t compromise you.
Settling in his seat, he swore that would change. He would ask to make you his and love you for as long as time allowed him.
I’m coming cyare. I’ll find you soon.
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I hope you all like it! I took some inspiration from @arctrooper69 series "As iron sharpens iron" which is awesome and y'all should read it! (I hope thats okay!)
Anyway, like I said above, I do have a smutty part 2 planned but life has overwhelmed me so it might be a hot minute for that!
Enjoy!!
#ao3 fanfic#the bad batch#sw tbb#hunter x reader#tbb hunter#tbb hunter x reader#star wars the bad batch#fanfic#hunter angst#idiots in love#protective hunter#jealous reader#clone simp#tbb fluff#hunter fluff
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okay, just so you guys know...
I'm still working on Shadowing Nightwing. Just making edits and doing my best to tone down the length because it's well over 40k words and I–... I just can't.
Also, I'm trying to make sure that it's good and spicy enough for what y'all are expecting, but also something that won't get taken down on patreon, tumblr, etc. the literal second it's up—because again, it's spicy. Honestly, what I might end up doing is posting the first part of it, and then doing what I did with 'One Kent Was Enough,' linking the rest of the story to AO3 cause I'm tired of having to jump through hoops and loops with these platforms.
like Patreon is taking forever to "review" and put back one of my stories for "violating" community guidelines. And don't even get me started with Tumblr and their nonsense because I just saw one of my mutuals get his post hidden on here due to "explicit sexual content" that was "outside" of user guidelines.
and the crazy part is, his fic was under 1,500 words and was nowhere near as bad as some of the fem!reader content I've seen on here. Like I know I keep ranting about this (and I'll damn sure continue to), but I'm so sick of the bias against m!reader content, especially when it's explicit.
We already get a bunch of fem readers getting mad at us for not wanting to write content that includes them even when we explicitly state that we are m!reader authors and only write for male or gen!neutral readers. Then, the content we do write for our audience always ends up getting flagged or taken down for being outside of user guidelines, when it's barely anything bad.
Like the amount of abduction, non-con/CNC that could be considered borderline grape without the g, coercion, manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome, YANDERE, etc. f!reader fics I've read on this platform and others that have no warnings, flags, or shadowbans from what I can tell is truly something ridiculous. Matter of fact, they'll literally have the most likes, reblogs, and engagement I've ever seen. But, our male reader fics get flagged for using the word bussy instead of pussy...I'm not even joking.
but, I digress.
ANYWAY, with all that being said, once Shadowing Nightwing is posted, I'm gonna take a break away from smut and Omegaverse fics for a minute only because trying to do that specific stuff has started to feel more like a job than something I enjoy and have fun with, and I don't want to burn myself out or give y'all content that I'm not proud of or feel like it's half-assed.
Plus, I'll be honest, this past week has been really hard mentally, emotionally, and creatively for me given the results of this election, I can't even say I'm surprised, but I can damn well say I'm pissed off. Like, I can barely write without sitting there thinking about the fact that this orange peel of a FELON AND THUG—yeah I said it for you sibling and cousin fucking, buck-tooth, bobblehead, ding-dong, dropped ON your heads, mindless little minions—ahem—I mean, conservatives (if conservative means conversing brain cells that is) and his adult sid phillips looking ass v.p. cheated like someone trapped in a room with all their favorite foods while being on a diet, or more than half this country is really that stupid.
keep in mind, we're talking about a country with a lacking education system paired with a population of *checks note* sibling and cousin fucking, buck-tooth, bobblehead, DING-DONG, SLAMMED on their heads, mindless little minion bitches—AHEM—conservatives so that last part really wouldn't be surprising.
but again, I digress.
Shadowing Nightwing will be out soon, and we'll be returning to some PG-13 content for some time until I can wrap my head around this—or find the cheapest and quickest flight to Saturn—whichever comes first.
anyways, pls stay safe out there guys in these next four years, especially my minorities out there WHO VOTED FOR KAMALA AND TIM. If you voted third-party, didn't vote, or voted for the felon and adult sid phillips, I PRAY you get everything you voted for 😉. no seriously, I'm really rooting for you 😊
MWAH 😘 kisses, bitches 💛
to the rest of my lovelies, I love you all, stay safe and shine bright, and I'll be here soon with Shadowing Nightwing (that is if I haven't found a direct flight to Saturn first...fingers crossed🤞🏽)
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What do you expect from Born Again? I for one am cautiously excited. It's a shame Foggy is going to die, but I don't think he would have much meaning anyway. Don't get me wrong, I like him. But I love Matt, Karen and Frank more. I think it's time for his story to end. I'm sure Foggy's sacrifice will give Karen the anger she needs to pick up her gun in revenge and Matt a reason to let the devil out so I think it will be worth it. Or maybe his death will be poetic and beautiful and temporary. Although I don't think he really fits the tone of the series. Karen has a more dramatic appeal and Frank too. Foggy is only cute and sweet. I hope you don't get upset with my question And my opinion on Foggy
I thought a lot before deciding whether to answer this question since I don't know if it's valid or just another one like the millions of hateful asks about Elden and Foggy that I've received over the years.
And even if the reason for this ask is to hurt me, I believe that all opinions need to be heard, even when I disagree.
I've said this more than once: I don't plan on watching Born Again. Period.
I don't want to re-watch, revisit a scene I've seen thousands of times on the internet. I don't want to see Foggy on the concrete, getting a shot that wasn't aimed at him.
Even if it is a temporary death. Even if he just gets hurt. No, I don't want to watch that.
I don't want to see Matt and Karen (without Foggy) reminiscing about old memories. I don't want to see Matt living life as if Foggy isn't an important person to him. I don't want to watch a show where Foggy, who used to be the heart of the show, appears in one or two episodes.
I know, I know I'll end up watching bits and pieces here and there because people won't get tired of posting edits, scene cuts, photos, gifs etc. And I don't like blocking people just because they have opinions that go against mine. I only block haters, etc.
Believe me, I'm glad Karen has a lot of heart in the show. After all, I fought for years for Elden and Deborah to return alongside Charlie for this show. I'm really happy for her and her fans. And I think it's beautiful that Jon cared so much about her to the point of saying that he would only return to the role if she was also on the show.
I just wish the Born Again writers knew that Foggy is also a crucial character. Not just because he's Matt's friend. Foggy has a rich history and is very capable of having a good plot even without a weapon, even without powers, without sexual appeal. I just wish (and hope) that Born Again doesn't erase all the importance of the original Foggy. In Elden's words: "Even though he's a little clumsy, Foggy is not an idiot." Foggy is smart, good, and intelligent.
I'm sure the directors did the best they could to fit Foggy into a plot that was almost complete. We need to remember that Foggy was going to die off-screen in the first script. And Karen wasn't even mentioned. So, I believe it was easier to fit Karen in there, giving her more scenes.
It's wonderful that Karen is a badass, has a gun, and is her own hero. I love Karen so much! But Foggy, Foggy was always the heart, and nothing survives without a heart.
Good-hearted people are strong in their own way. (this part makes me start crying, hell, I hate being so stupid)
And it's naive to think that a hero show will only be good if it has shooting, blood, sex, and things like that.
I don't know about you, but what made me love the show was the human and fragile part.
It was seeing that the girl wasn't so fragile and weak, that she is flawed and tries her best despite everything. She found a family (two idiots) and fought tooth and nail to protect Foggy and Matt from Fisk.
That Matt, the hero, is fragile, silly, pathetic. Sexy in his sweatpants and socks. That he feels pain, he cries, he feels angry and feels incapable most of the time.
That the silly friend (and useless in most opinion) is brave, strong, the one who goes for sex for consolation. Who has a family like everyone else.
These things, this human part were what made me love the show. Although I've been a Daredevil fan since childhood and admittedly an Elden fan since childhood as well.
These characters were like family to me.
The three of them!
Will I change my mind about Born Again? The second season, perhaps. But again, out of respect for Elden and Foggy, no, I don't intend to watch a scene that I've seen thousands of times and that has sometimes been mocked. And it still hurts me.
In Elden's words: The show is going to be amazing! I'm sure. But not for me.
#anon ask#born again#daredevil#foggynelson#karen page#matt murdock#elden henson#foggy nelson#personal
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Together Forever
Summary: Natsu and Lucy being consent in each other's presence, and a little bit of Happy being a sweet baby boy. Notes: This is the first fanfic I've written and posted, and since I don't wanna re-read and edit stuff I'm just gonna close my eyes and hit publish :P Ao3 - FF.net
***
“Come on Natsu, at least steer your vomit away from me!” Lucy cried out, watching the sick dragonslayer destroy yet another pair of shoes. She was seriously considering putting plastic bags on her feet if Natsu couldn’t gain control over his flow anytime soon.
“Luuushi...” Happy said with a groggy voice, barely keeping his eyes open. The exceed had used up almost all his magic powers this mission, making him unusually tired - and unexpectedly cuddly towards a certain celestial mage.
“Come here Happy.” Lucy patted on her lap, letting the blue cat curl up into a purring ball of blue fur. The low frequent rumbling actually helped her calm down too. She would just have to deal with his shedding and the dirty shoes later - it’s not as if she could do anything now anyways.
Natsu himself was laying on the bench opposite to his best friends, watching them regain lost energy and magical power from the exhausting mission. It was sweet watching them both being calm like this. Of course he truly didn’t mind their friendly bickering. Happy felt comfortable enough with Lucy to show all sides of him to her, both the emotional and the snarky part. He remembered how loud and reductant Lucy was in the past, with her big and crazy reactions to almost everything that happened. Shouting every time Gray stripped or kicking Natsu out of her apartment. She never wavered. Once again, he didn’t actually mind that part, in fact, he really liked it. She had courage to be herself no matter who she was encountering, and her cute reactions often made the enemies favour her. However, she had gotten a lot calmer and sweeter the last two years. It must be that thing they call growing up, huh?
While in the middle of his thoughts, the train started moving extra much, making the salmon haired boy hurl up a mix of whatever he had eaten before boarding the hell-transportation. He really hoped Wendy could learn a new anti motion sickness-spell soon - life hadn’t been too kind since that Troia spell stopped working on him.
***
“Finally!” Natsu kissed the ground in delight of finally leaving the train, being back in their hometown. Lucy ignored him, as usual, and took care of their baggage. After all the years she had known him, he was still just as embarrassing to be out in public with. How hadn’t he picked up on social cues yet? Happy was still asleep in her arms, so after struggling for a bit she finally kicked some sense in Natsu, somehow without waking the cat.
“Come on and help with the bags you moron!” She scolded quietly, not wanting to disturb the sweet little animal who conveniently used her left boob as a pillow. “You don’t want to wake Happy, right? He deserves some rest, you know.”
Natsu obliged to the blonde’s orders. She was helping him nurse Happy back to full health after all. Grabbing the baggage, they soon headed back to Lucy’s apartment. The sun had started setting and he really craved that soft bed of hers.
Shortly after Lucy had met Natsu, she noticed an odd behaviour with him. Usually when walking back from missions with the entire Team Natsu, the air was filled with discussions. Natsu and Gray bickering in the background, Erza talking strategies with Lucy and Wendy, Happy and Carla talking about fishes or something, and then the occasional bickering between Lucy and Happy. When it was only Natsu, Lucy and Happy though, it was as if a switch had flipped. They rarely spoke, only leaving the sounds of Happy’s purring and Natsu and Lucy’s footsteps in the air. It was never uncomfortable though. They already knew what the other thought, and even if they didn’t know, they never felt the need to rush any conversations. This happened more and more frequently after the Alvarez Empire war, when Natsu had said those words to her. “We’ll be together forever, right?” Not any huge words, not anything complicated - just, the truth. Why would they need to talk all the time when they had forever in front of them. Everything would come in time. Lucy had decided to believe that.
“Hey, Lucy…”
… Did she jinx herself?
“Can we stay at your place? And can you make us some food, pleaaaase?”
Nevermind.
“Whatever, you guys just do what you want anyways.”
***
When they stepped into the apartment Lucy immediately went into the bedroom, carefully dropping off the knocked out exceed on the foot of the bed.
“I’m taking a quick shower, get the meat out of the freezer and defrost it while I’m gone, will you?” Lucy didn’t bother doing that stuff herself - Natsu knew her kitchen almost better than she did, he could figure it out.
Once she was in the shower she finally relaxed. A bath would undeniably be better, but right now she was more focused on getting all the dirt off her body. The mission they had gone on was fairly easy for Lucy and Natsu - the only one who had a hard time was Happy. The bandits had some type of flying ability, and the only way to defeat them was to get close. Therefore, Happy had to switch between them while they regenerated their powers. Lucy had gotten a bit worried when she saw Happy’s fur getting wet from sweat, but the exceed had just shaken her off, staying strong to the end of the mission. Lucy couldn’t help but admire him. If only Carla saw these heroic moments, maybe they would have gotten further in their relationship by now.
That reminded her of how protective Natsu could be. He hated it when Carla was rude to Happy. He didn’t show it, but Lucy saw. His twitching legs and furrowed eyebrows were of course big clues. Yet he still was very supportive. Every time Happy felt down because of Carla's cold behaviour, Natsu cheered him on, giving him money to buy an extra nice fish for Happy to give away. Lucy really had to give them better gift ideas though, once they had tried giving Carla a live eel instead, and she had ended up transforming into a human to run away faster. Who knew she was afraid of eels? And who knew she was that fast in her human form.
Lucy chuckled for herself at the memory. Yeah, she should definitely tell Happy to give her flowers or tea or something. She could at least spare Carla the terror of any other horrible sea creature.
After a quick round of shampoo, conditioner and body soap, she finally got out of the shower. She tried running a brush through her hair in an attempt to sort out the knots, but she quickly gave up. She would just have to brush it out when it dried.
When she left the bathroom, only dressed in a towel, she was met by a nice smell and the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen.
“So, what are we having?” Lucy asked, secretly happy with getting a meal cooked for her. She would say that she was glad that it was free for a change, but she did buy the groceries with her own money after all.
“Curry ‘n rice,” Natsu answered, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrated.
“Sounds nice. I’ll put on some clothes, then I’ll take over. You can take a bath or something while I finish it,” Lucy offered, once again not waiting for an answer before going into her bedroom where her wardrobe stood. She picked out a thin crop top and a pair of shorts in a soft material, before heading back into the kitchen.
“Now shoo,” the blonde said, dragging Natsu away from the bubbling pot.
“Wait! I didn’t turn on the stoves!”
Lucy grunted loudly.
“Whatever, I’ll fix it. You stink, here’s a towel, the opened medicines are to the left on the sink.”
Who knew the fire dragon slayer had such a passion for cooking? Lucy was pretty sure that was something only she knew about. Team Natsu never really had dinner the same way at Lucy’s. The only possible person who could have known about his cooking skills would be Lisanna, but to be frank, he didn’t really have enough control over his fire back when they played house. Happy knew about this skill of course, but then again, how could he not know about it? They lived together for god's sake.
As the clock struck 10pm Natsu finally left the bathroom, dressed in only a pair of chequered pyjama pants.
“Do you know where my t-shirt is?” He asked, lifting one of the pillows that laid on the couch.
“Oh yeah, it’s in the washer. Seriously, if you keep leaving your sleepover clothes here then you at least have to learn to wash them regularly!” Lucy scolded half heartedly, blushing slightly at the sight of her half naked best friend. It’s not as if she was immune to his muscular torso.
“Whatever, it’s not as if you ever come close enough to smell it anyways,” Natsu murmured as he made his way over to the table.
“Do I need to remind you that I also use the couch that I accidentally happen to OWN. If your clothes smell, then the couch will smell too. You seriously have to break your habit of sneaking in,” she groaned, knowing that her words had no effect whatsoever. “Nevermind that for now, did you see if Happy has woken up?”
“Nopfe, he’f ftill refting,” Natsu grunted, mouth full of hot curry.
“I’ll cut up some fish for him later then, hopefully he’ll get his energy back after a good meal.” Lucy pondered for a second, wondering if she maybe should wake him up anyways. He never liked missing meals and then having to eat alone. Lucy sometimes wondered if it was because he was unaccustomed to being alone, seeing as he always had the guild or Natsu around.
The mage decided to let him sleep on for now. Happy could wake one of them up if he wanted a snack in the middle of the night. It was already late enough for Lucy, so she sat down, finally digging in on the homemade food.
“Delicious!” She beamed, letting out a satisfied sigh before continuing letting the hot curry warm her up from the inside. Nothing tastes as good as a newly cooked meal after a long mission.
Natsu watched as the woman in front of him made a happy little dance before digging in. He had already eaten his portion of the food - almost four times the amount that Lucy had on her plate, and sat now and just watched as Lucy regained energy and warmth.
This was one of his favourite moments of the week. After many days sleeping in tents, constantly being on alert and never even getting the chance to clean themselves up, the smell and familiarity of Lucy’s apartment really made him feel safe. Sure, he might be a bit barbaric on missions, itching after someone to fight, not really caring about living conditions while he actually was on the mission, but getting back to this smell always made him shocked by how tense he had been the last week. Finding this type of ritual of sleeping the first night after a mission with Lucy, brought a sense of relaxation he didn’t know his body or mind possessed. Just coming home, chatting with Happy or starting cooking while Lucy took a bath or shower, and then himself taking a shower either while Lucy finishes or starts the food, or just after the meal. There was still one problem in Natsu’s opinion though. He still slept on the couch. After all these years she still wouldn’t let them share bed unless she was drunk or if he snuck in during the night.
While Lucy’s apartment smelled great, there was just something else he felt when he shared bed with her. Sometimes he got a boner, he was not going to lie, she is very attractive after all, but most of the time he felt something else. It could be called love, but for some reason that just didn’t sit right with Natsu. Love was great, no doubt, he had felt it lots of times, to his father, to his guildmates and to material things, but sleeping with Lucy was… Comforting. The combination of the sound of her soft breathing and her steady heart, and her cool skin against his hot, and then that special smell that he only could smell when they got really close. All this made him feel… Safe. Happy. Reassured. Content. If family could be an emotion, that is what he felt.
Even better was when Happy curled up in the middle of them, making Natsu able to smell and hear him too. Sometimes, when Natsu felt bold and cuddled really close to her, Happy would lay above their heads or close to Lucy’s belly. That’s when he truly slept the best.
Natsu knew that he wouldn’t exchange these two people for the world.
“Ya done?” He grinned, watching Lucy swallow the last forkful of food.
“Yep, that meal was exactly what I needed!” She purred, patting her belly. Natsu stood up and started putting away their plates.
“We’ll wash them tomorrow,” he croaked, filling the pots with water so that they would be easier to clean the next morning. Lucy just agreed as she began cutting up that fish she had promised Happy. When she was done Natsu had already removed all the dishes from the table.
“Let’s go to bed now,” Lucy suggested, a big yawn escaping her lips.
A small part of Natsu didn’t want to go to sleep just yet. His wounds were itching and he didn’t look forward to leaving Lucy’s presence. With Happy in Lucy’s bed he didn’t have anyone to cuddle with.
So, Natsu did what anyone would do in his situation. He took the lead, grabbing Lucy’s wrist on the way to her bed, only to gently fall into it and pull Lucy closer, wrapping his arms around her.
“N-Natsu… Hey... “ The mage was blushing furiously at his actions. Not that this was the first time he had done so, in fact, it happened more and more regularly nowadays.
She didn’t dislike sleeping in the same bed as Natsu. Quite the opposite to be honest. When she was cold she found herself cuddling up closer to his chest, feeling safe in his muscular arms. When it was hot outside they actually kept a good distance - but they always touched in one way or another. Legs tangled together, feet touching, or Lucy’s personal favourite - hand holding.
She vividly remembered that hot summer night in June, shortly after her birthday, when Natsu had climbed into her bed again. Natsu didn’t understand why she kept turning away and moving from him - he didn’t understand how unpleasant the summer heat was for normal people. He was a fire dragon slayer after all. In the end they just laid in bed, back to back. Natsu really wanted to turn the other way and hold his best friend close, but he knew that she was uncomfortable in the heat. Lucy didn’t know if it was her or Natsu who had grabbed the other’s hand in the middle of the night, but she remembered how important she felt that morning. He had respected her boundaries and still found a way to hold her close. It was heartwarming. Except the part when she saw that Happy had woken up early and raided her fridge in hope to find some yummy fishes. They ate breakfast at the guild that morning.
However, keeping that night in mind, Lucy finally gave in to Natsu’s demands.
“At least let us get under the covers first,” she mumbled, squeezing out of Natsu’s bear hug. She pulled Natsu to his feet as well and then crawled under her bedsheets. Natsu stood beside her bed, pouting in disappointment. Lucy giggled for herself before lifting up one side of the blanket, inviting him into bed. Natsu immediately lit up, jumping into bed with her, almost giving in to the temptation to cuddle up in her arms and sleep on those soft, squishy boobies. Once again, who could blame him for wanting to do that - not only would it be soft, warm and comfortable, but he would also be able to hear and feel the beat of her heart.
Of course, he didn’t do that. Natsu wasn’t a pervert (sometimes he wondered if he was though), but ever since Lucy showed up in his life his hormones had been acting up a bit. He had once felt a similar way for Lisanna, but nothing really blossomed on that part. Now he found himself accidentally seeing or feeling the curves of Lucy’s (sometimes naked) body and he actually got a boner from it. He had heard Gray and Loke talk about relieving themselves if the tension got too bad, but he only tried it once. He felt bad about it later though because he had thought some nasty thoughts about Lucy, so he never tried it again. No, Natsu wasn’t actually a pervert. He could go almost a month without thinking about Lucy in a non-platonic way, but one week every month Lucy smelled different. Wondering about this odd occasion, he had actually asked Levy about it. She had gotten all flustered and thought he meant that Lucy and the other girls smelled period blood, but then he explained that that wasn’t it. It came almost a week before that, and only from Lucy too. Levy explained that it possibly had something to do with her ovulation - the perfect time to impregnate a woman. This time Natsu had gotten flustered instead. He didn’t want to impregnate Lucy! Not then anyways. Not now either. He was far too young to have kids, and besides, it was his best friend they were talking about.
No, Natsu wasn’t a pervert. He never acted on these thoughts. He knew that Lucy wanted her lines between friends, best friends and lovers to be clear. Natsu didn’t mind being all over the place. He could easily bleed over all the lines, just them being them was enough for him. But Lucy wanted them to stay as best friends - not because she didn’t want to be with Natsu, but she just wasn’t ready to take that step yet. And Natsu respected that. He wasn’t sure of course if she ever wanted to have a romantic relationship with him - how could he be? But he had faith that they both would come around some day and show the world that relationships don't need to be complicated - they just needed to be happy together, and if kissing, cuddling, chatting or raw sex was the source of it, then so be it. In Natsu’s opinion anyways. Lucy still wanted things a bit more traditional, but it was clear that as long as they made each other happy it didn’t really matter if they had ever gone on a real date or not. They didn’t mind being more than friends, less than lovers.
Now, since Natsu respected Lucy, he didn’t use her chest as his pillow - even if it tempted him to, but instead he laid down beside her, faces facing, and he did the one thing he had never done before. As Natsu settled down beside Lucy, they had locked eyes. Lucy’s big brown eyes were dazy of tiredness, and her lips were turned upwards in a little smile. Natsu had a crooked smirk on his lips, still happy with his accomplishment of sleeping in her bed. As they gazed into each other's eyes they somehow found themself moving a tiny bit closer. Natsu lifted his head up slightly and gave Lucy a light peck on her lips. The kiss was short, Lucy had barely felt Natsu’s dry, chapped lips against hers before it was over. She just smiled though, not feeling as frustrated as she probably could have felt.
“Goodnight Natsu,” she said as a light blush danced on her cheeks.
“Goodnight Lucy,” Natsu whispered back. They both closed their eyes but still felt their hearts flutter as their hands reached each other.
Yeah. There was no need to rush this family. They understood each other perfectly fine, and after all, they were going to stay together forever, right?
#bumblebeehug writes#fairy tail#lucy heartfilia#natsu dragneel#nalu#happy the cat#happy the exceed#happy fairy tail#fanfic#fanfiction#ft fanfiction#fairy tail nalu#nalu fairy tail#nalu fanfiction#nalu fanfic#fairy tail fanfiction#fairy tail fanfic
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Kinktober Day 6. Over the Desk
Bloodweave (Astarion/Gale), Light Domming-from-the-Top Gale, ~1k Words
Rating: Explicit
Notes from the Ao3 chapter:
I feel bad. I really bit off more than I could chew with trying to do a kinktober lol I was still recovering from covid when it started (read: was constantly tired and coughing all the time didn't help) and then my partner was away and when he came back we left for a fishing trip =_= So, yeah, I gave up on trying to keep up with the prompts BUT!!! I really like some of them and I'd like an excuse to explore more explicit stuff, characters, and pairings, so I will try to do them from time-to-time. I'm still open to doing requests, not just kinktober but in general too, but I'll be slow. Please refer to the notes of the first chapter or my Tumblr for more info on that. (Tumblr Edit: my tumblr post about requests) Anyway, have some Bloodweave smut! It incorporates a few minor themes of other prompts/kinks. Also, I'm sorry for any formatting errors I miss. Rich text keeps adding spaces around italicized words because of how <"em"> works differently from <"i">, I guess? And I don't always catch it. Hope you enjoy!
Story below cut:
With a playful little smirk on his lips, Astarion slipped into Gale’s office.
“My office hours start in an hour,” Gale called out pointedly, not bothering to take his eyes off his work.
Pressing his back to the heavy oak, Astarion closed the door.
Gale looked up over the rim of his reading glasses to see if his guest was actually so rude as to not apologize for intruding before leaving.
“I promise, I’ll be quick.” Astarion gave him a wicked little grin as his delicate fingers twisted the lock, making sure they wouldn’t be interrupted.
“I have never found that to be the case.”
Gale ignored him as he sauntered over. He didn’t even look up when Astarion sat on the edge of his desk, just slid his pen holder into a more stable position.
“I need a private lesson, Professor Dekarios,” Astarion purred, leaning forward, getting so close to Gale that his breath disturbed the wispy stray hairs along his hairline.
“You’re in my light.”
Astarion knocked over the pen holder, sending its contents clattering all over the floor.
“Oops.” Gale glowered at him. Astarion gave him a coy little smirk as he got off the desk. “Let me just… clean that up.”
Unnecessarily, he got on his hands and knees. He took his time, picking up each pen and dropping it into the cup holder with a plunk.
Plunk. Plunk. Plunk plunk.
Astarion reached for another when Gale’s foot came down on his hand, gently enough to not hurt him, but firm enough that it would hurt to break free.
Gale’s dark voice washed over him, sending a shiver up his spine. “This is what you really came here for, isn’t it?”
Red eyes traveled up Gale’s long legs, culminating in the most glorious sight.
Slowly stroked by his hand, Gale’s cock proudly jutted out of the open fly of his trousers.
And from above, Gale’s dark brown eyes drilled right into Astarion. His serious blank expression shifted into a confident smirk.
“Well? What are you waiting for? It’s not going to suck itself.”
Gale lifted his foot, allowing Astarion to finally escape. Still on his knees, he lifted his head until it was in-line with his next meal. Greedily, Astarion opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.
Gale moved his cock away out of reach. He gave it one more pass with his ink-stained hands and, on the up-stroke, let it go so that it fell on Astarion’s awaiting tongue with a meaty thwack.
With a delighted moan, Astarion took it into his mouth, coating it with his saliva. He savored the taste and feel of skin on his tongue.
Placing his hand on the back of Astarion’s head, sparing no care for the man’s perfect curls, Gale pressed his hips forward until the head of his cock was welcomed by Astarion’s throat.
“I am short on time, my love,” he growled through his pleasure.
For a few minutes, Gale used Astarion’s mouth like a toy. Astarion huffed and groaned as always pleased his lover. When he let a glob of frothy spit drool out of his mouth and drip onto the rug, Gale tugged his face off of his cock despite whiny protestations.
“Tch. Always making messes…” Gale chided, gently tugging Astarion up by the hair. Astarion happily complied.
Still holding him by the hair, Gale kissed Astarion roughly, his beard coming away sticky with saliva.
“You want a private lesson, hm? You have a lot to learn.”
With that, Gale shoved Astarion against his desk. It was gentle, most of the impact coming from Astarion throwing himself forward.
Wearing high-heeled boots just for this occasion, Astarion’s ass fit perfectly against Gale’s hips without any kneeling or standing on tiptoe. He had to consider the poor man’s knees.
Astarion also chose his clothing carefully. Keeping in mind time and ease, his pants untied at the back and had enough stretch so that Gale could easily pull them down over his ass.
Gale teased him, bucking his cock over his waiting hole, kneading and squeezing the firm flesh on either side.
But he didn’t have a lot of time and Astarion knew to come ready, so the teasing ended early. With a hand on Astarion’s hip, Gale slid his cock in to the sound of Astarion’s muffled moan.
The desk kept Astarion from shifting too far away, but Gale still took hold of his waist with both hands and pulled his lover back as he thrust forward. In any other place, he could go like this for hours. By denying himself just a little bit of pleasure through sheer force of will, he could ward off his own orgasm until Astarion was utterly spent.
This time, he let every crumb of stimulation wash over him. He could feel Astarion quiver underneath him with every stroke, probably ruining the papers scattered across the desk with the drool leaking out of his mouth.
Astarion was in heaven, receiving exactly what he came for. Gale knew how to treat him right, all of the things that drove him crazy. Most importantly, he trusted the man raining down blissful punishment on him to stop when asked.
Trapped in his half-removed trousers, his cock strained, begging to be set free, to be touched. The friction only made Astarion moan into his hand more.
“Please,” he breathed out between his fingers, panting with every motion of Gale’s hips.
“Speak up,” Gale commanded calmly, despite how ready he was to come undone.
“Please,” Astarion whined a little more loudly. “Please, Gale, fill me with your cum.”
Astarion didn’t need to beg twice. Already playing with fire, Astarion’s sweet filthy words were all it took for Gale to instantly fulfill the request. Leaning forward to brace himself with one hand on the desk, Gale groaned in Astarion’s ear as he gave one last thrust. Hand firmly placed on Astarion’s hip, he locked them together. They felt every pulse of his cock as he gave Astarion wave after wave of hot cum.
Spent, Gale pressed a kiss to the back of Astarion’s neck. In his ear, he whispered, “Thank you, my love. I needed that.”
“Me too,” Astarion whispered back breathlessly, not wanting to lift his head from the nice cool surface of the desk.
But by now, eager bright-eyed students were waiting outside the door and Gale could not keep his adoring public waiting.
#bloodweave#astarion#gale dekarios#astarion/gale#astarion ancunin#gale of waterdeep#bg3#titus writes#titus post#bg3 fanfiction#fanfiction#BW Sanctuary Kinktober#kinktober#gale/astarion#astarion x gale#bg3 gale#bg3 astarion#gale x astarion#bg3 smut#smut#dom!gale#top!gale#bottom!Astarion#sub!astarion
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…..I don’t mean to bother but I’ve had some major art block sooooo maybe a small Drabble for some inspiration? I’ve been on a tangent with undertale and dragons lately(mentally) but I’ve been so freaking busy and tired that I’ve just not had anything to put down onto paper. So dragon au if you don’t mind( Your The Dark Fortress AU has me in a star’s dammed chokehold)
Have a great weekend!
I'm so sorry this took a while but I hope the length makes up for it! These guys may have me in a chokehold too lol
This is a sort of part two to this post.
Future Tumble Edit: I made a prequel to these drabbles.
Donovan
You woke up in a cold sweat, desperately trying to inhale as much oxygen as you could. It was that same dream again; the one where you were constantly running but could never escape the invisible screams. Besides terrifying you, the nightmare served as a continual reminder that you were completely alone in the world.
The little nook you'd claimed as your own was dimly lit by distant firelight but you couldn't tell what time it was otherwise. The dark fortress was silent, as if even the structure itself was resting like it's scaly residents within. You should probably try to go back to sleep but after such a rude awakening, you were reluctant to do so.
Then, you heard heavy footsteps approaching your little hideaway and the dim light was replaced by a cyan glow as the last dragon you had wanted to see peeked inside. Because of his size, Donovan could only fit his head into the entrance but for the moment, he chose to remain outside. Both of you sat there for a moment, just staring at each other silently.
"I could sense your distress earlier. Are you alright?" the black dragon finally asked.
You frowned and averted your gaze. "No..." you whispered.
He seemed to consider your answer for a moment. "I suppose that was a silly question to ask," he started to say. "Would you be willing to talk about it?"
You shook your head, "No, not right now anyways."
He gave you a slight nod. "I won't force you but I am here if you decide you want to."
The idea of unloading everything you'd had to carry since you were a child onto your superior wasn't something you liked, especially because he was the one responsible for your trauma. Sure, he hadn't personally killed everyone you had held dear or destroyed your home town, but indirectly or not, you were still resentful and afraid of him.
"No matter what you believe, I consider you a valued member of my horde," Donovan added. "I value your wellbeing just as much as I do any of the others."
That was surprising. You'd only been here for a short time and in that time, he hadn't given you the impression of being so forthright. Still, he'd never lied to you, or any of the other dragons, as far you knew.
When you nodded silently, you heard him shuffling outside the nook and the cyan glow from his eyelight briefly disappeared. It returned after a moment and you looked over at him curiously.
"Would you like some company at least?" he asked in a soft voice.
You raised an eyebrow and gave him a confused look. Wasn't that what he was already doing?
He seemed to change shape before your eyes into a more compressed form. He still looked like a dragon but now he was wearing some rather formal clothes and was closer to your own height. You had a feeling he was still much larger than you though. The important thing was that he could fit into your little hideaway now, which you weren't sure if you liked.
He rolled his shoulders and flexed his phalanges, giving you the impression that he wasn't used to this form. Notably, he remained outside and waited for you to answer his question.
Once you'd regained your ability to speak, you shrugged. "I guess not?"
He gave you a toothy grin before crawling into your space and settling down at the edge of your makeshift nest. You noticed he had a book tucked under one arm and a part of you felt relieved that he didn't seem interested in just making conversation.
You laid back down and pulled the blanket up to your chin. One of Donovan's tails was resting against your leg but you didn't mind. Just him sitting near you seemed to ease your lingering anxieties. The sound of his breathing and occasionally turning a page soon lulled you into a comfortable slumber. Maybe in the morning you'd ask if he was always able to change his form like this.
Dirk
Steady...
You readjusted your grip on your sword and tried not to dwell on how sore your calves were becoming from squatting for so long. You were perched in an alcove above the courtyard where your opponent was currently searching for you.
You wouldn't exactly call the dragon a friend. He loved to tease and prod until you inevitably snapped. You knew that he got a kick out of seeing you mad but you weren't much better. You had always been a hot-headed person and whenever he wasn't purposely being annoying, you liked to test the limits of his own patience.
Sure, it was basically suicide to poke the literal beast with razer sharp claws and teeth, but you liked to live dangerously. While you also had to stay clear of the blade he liked to strap to his tail, you actually enjoyed the little cat and mouse game you two played. How far was too far? Who would chicken out first to keep from hurting the other?
You couldn't keep yourself from grinning as Dirk slowly stalked through the courtyard. He had an incredible sense of smell so you knew he'd figure out where you were eventually, but by then it'd be too late. As soon as he wandered beneath your hiding spot, you dropped down, landing squarely on his back.
Dirk reacted immediately and with a snarl, did his best impression of a bucking bronco. You stubbornly dug your heels into his sides and held on the best you could, but were soon sent careening across the courtyard.
You scrambled to your feet, inhaling sharply at the pain that would soon become many bruises. With a roar, Dirk charged and you just barely managed to leap to the side. One of his wings came down hard against your back. You struggled to catch your breath.
"Is that...all...you got...?" you panted.
His smile twisted into a cruel grin. "oh i've just barely started, cute stuff~"
You grinned and beckoned him closer.
Dirk didn't hesitate any longer and you braced yourself to meet him. He swept your legs out from under you with his tail. You kicked his stomach and rolled to your feet again. He just barely grazed your back with his claws. You smacked his snout with the flat edge of your sword. He barreled you over onto your back. You clawed at his eye sockets with your own nails.
Then he sat on you and no matter how much you struggled, you couldn't throw him off. Your sword was pressed against his throat, as was his tail blade to yours. You both stared at each other for what felt like ages, daring the other to stand down first.
"you're getting better..." Dirk remarked in a quiet voice. The target that floated above his chest was pulsing wildly but he didn't seem even close to being winded yet.
You huffed and rolled your eyes. "You're an awful liar..."
He snickered and licked a wet stripe up your face. "you're not wrong about that!"
Maul
You let your feet dangle over the edge of the wall and inhaled the cool autumn air. Somehow, you'd managed to survive living in this terrible fortress for three months. Finding your place in the rankings had been difficult but as the days passed, your confidence began to return.
While you still avoided most of the resident dragons whenever possible, there was one who didn't seem to mind your presence. Compared to the others, Maul was even-tempered and patient. The only time you remembered him lashing out was when Dirk attempted to steal his dinner once.
The big guy had left a couple hours ago without saying a word to anyone, which is why you were sitting outside right now. He was different from the others and you couldn't help but wonder why. He definitely took satisfaction in kills but he also wasn't one to boast about them. He also didn't usually go out of his way to hurt people but he was all too willing to defend himself if needed.
Just as you were thinking of going back inside again, you spotted the familiar silhouette of the dragon on the horizon. As he drew closer, you noticed that he was holding a large stag in his talons. You waited until he'd landed before creeping back inside the fortress again.
By the time you'd made your way to his quarters, he'd morphed into a sort of person-sized dragon and was already beginning to dress the carcass. You didn't know that he was able to change his shape but it would explain how he managed to always have preserved food on hand.
Unfortunately, being in a different form certainly hadn't dulled his senses and just as you were thinking of leaving, he paused and slowly turned around until he locked eyes with you. For a moment, you felt rooted to the spot as he studied you suspiciously.
"...do you...want to help?" he asked in a quiet voice.
You had expected him to tell you to leave and when he hadn't, you were taken aback. You didn't have a lot of experience with butchering but it couldn't be so bad if he was allowing you to help.
"Um, I suppose so? What do you want me to do?"
You crossed the room until you were standing next to him, purposely staying on his left side to avoid startling him. He'd already hung up the stag and sliced it's throat to drain the blood into a basin underneath. You could tell that he'd been careful when killing it, likely to avoid losing most of the meat, and it didn't seem like it had needlessly suffered before dying.
Maul retrieved a sharp-looking knife and handed it to you. "...watch," he grumbled.
With his own claws, he began making careful incisions in specific areas along the carcass. You did your best to pay attention but you couldn't help noticing that despite his obvious skill, he had a slight tremor in his hands as he worked. It wasn't so much as to ruin the pelt but you were beginning to understand why he might've wanted help.
He soon had you copy his movements and with some guidance, you helped him peel off the pelt, which was set aside for later. After that came the process of carving up the carcass into various cuts of meat. You weren't sure how he was planning on preserving all of it, but you had a good feeling he would smoke it and a part of you hoped he would let you try some when he was done.
It took several hours and you definitely wanted a bath afterwards, but working together had made the arduous task a lot easier. You could confidently say that you'd butchered an animal now, however you wouldn't say that the process had been enjoyable. Your skin felt sticky from sweat and other fluids, so on top of a bath, you would also have to thoroughly wash your clothes to get all the blood out.
While cleaning up, Maul had started a fire and began roasting a sizeable chunk of venison, which was helping to clear the almost overpowering scent of blood from the air. The tantalizing smell also served to remind your stomach that you hadn't eaten a proper meal all day.
Just as you were about to sneak away, Maul dropped a heavy hand on your shoulder. "...where do you think you're going?" he growled.
"S-sorry, I just thought-"
He didn't let you finish protesting before all but picking you up and dropping you into a chair near the fire. "...stay." He sternly pointed a claw at you to punctuate his demand.
You nodded, feeling more than a little anxious all of the sudden. Why was he upset? Had you ruined something?
Maul sliced off a decent hunk of the roasted venison before approaching you again. At least he had half the mind to set it on a tray before offering the still piping hot meat to you. When he didn't explain and just stared at you expectantly, you took a careful bite. He let out a pleased rumble before pulling up a chair and sitting down himself.
It wasn't anything fancy, but to you, it might as well have been the best thing you'd eaten in years. You couldn't remember the last time you'd had any venison that wasn't tough or incredibly gamey. You hadn't noticed Maul adding any seasoning, but he could've while you were busy cleaning and you wouldn't have noticed.
"It's really good..." you hummed softly.
He gave you what probably passed for a smile as far as dragons were concerned and ruffled your hair. "...you helped, so you deserve to enjoy it."
The finality of his statement stuck with you. While the scarred dragon wasn't much for speaking, you had a feeling that he meant everything he said. The thought that he was happy with how hard you'd worked made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe he actually liked having you around after all?
Reven
You wished you hadn't gotten out of bed today. Not only were you existing on maybe four hours of sleep, but your old scars had decided to act up as well. Needless to say, you were in no mood to deal with any of the dragons' shenanigans and had sequestered yourself on the ramparts, hoping none of them would find you.
A sudden gust of wind had you drawing your cloak even tighter around your aching body. It was a foolish idea to even be out here and while you knew you would regret it later, you really didn't want to go inside. At least you'd had half the mind to bring your whetstone so you could be somewhat productive, but now that your sword was sharp enough to split hairs, you didn't have anything else to do.
For a moment, the sun was blotted out by a large shadow but when you looked up, you didn't see anything. You were starting to consider going inside after all when Reven appeared out of nowhere, landing on the stonework a few meters away.
You held your breath, hoping by some miracle he hadn't spotted you and was simply surveying the area. Of course, you were proven wrong when he turned his head and fixed you with an unimpressed look.
The cloaked dragon was impossible to read even on the best of days but if there was one thing you knew, it was that he was best left alone. He wasn't as "stabby" as Dirk tended to be but you had witnessed how quickly he could snap on multiple occasions. Oftentimes, he seemed to grow irritated for no reason and when that happened, he would lash out at anyone unlucky enough to be nearby, which was usually Dirk.
You regarded Reven silently. It didn't seem like there was anything bothering him at the moment, but you really could only see his eyes beneath his hood and they always seemed full of hate. Today was different though. Sure, he looked like he'd been force fed a lemon for breakfast but there was something else there...
"H-hey..."
He narrowed his eye sockets at the sound of your admittedly pathetic voice. Suddenly, the empty space in the center of his mismatched eyelights constricted and a very familiar realization came over you.
No matter how friendly they could be, there was no changing their nature. You would never be more than prey to them.
Before you could even think of running, Reven had you. The next thing you knew was the deafening sound of wind in your ears and how every movement made your stomach lurch. How sharp daggers threatened to pierce you on every side. How you couldn't move. How you didn't dare open your eyes for fear of what you might witness.
The seconds seemed to stretch on for an eternity. You were still alive? What was he doing? Why hadn't he flung you against the wall? Or dropped you from a thousand feet? Or swallowed you whole? Or...?
You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. Slowly, you tried moving your fingers and then your toes. The daggers kept you from moving the rest of your body since you weren't about to chance what would certainly prove a horrific way to die.
You chanced a peek at your captor and came face to face with one of his eyelights. While it sharpened slightly as it focused on you, the psychopathic bastard said nothing, but how could he? It was awfully rude to talk with your mouth full.
Reven was apparently hellbent on taking you...somewhere. Unless he had finally gotten fed up and decided to do away with you where Donovan would be unawares? No, who were you kidding? Nothing escaped the corrupted dragon, nonetheless the absence of his favourite pet.
You placed your hand against Reven's jaw. There was nothing you could do but accept whatever he had in mind. So, while it seemed insane, you willed your body to relax. Anything could happen next and you needed to be ready for it.
Your acceptance seemed to do the trick or maybe he had just arrived at his destination. A wave of butterflies welled up in your gut, threatening to burst out as he descended back down to the ground. You felt a jolt pass through his body and into yours as he landed.
He deposited you onto the ground and while you panicked at first, he only gave you an annoyed look and settled down in the grass. To say you were confused was an understatement. He hadn't said a word the whole time and now he was just ignoring you?
"Reven?"
He let out a huff but turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye socket.
"Why did you...kidnap me?" you asked quietly.
He looked away again and towards the horizon. "you were acting like a sad sack all day," he muttered. "thought a change of view would help."
You frowned slightly at that. He'd taken you to a rocky outcrop overlooking a lake surrounded by a pine forest. It was certainly different than the often bleak fortress, so much so, that you could actually see the sunset.
You watched as the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon, painting the world in a swash of oranges, yellows, and reds. The sight was certainly spectacular and once the colours began to fade, you turned to Reven again.
"It's beautiful, thank you..."
He only grunted in response but you could feel his gaze on the back of your head when you looked away again. He didn't seem interested in making conversation but that was alright with you. Sometimes just sitting next to someone who cared was comforting in and of itself.
#raccoons drabbles#undertale#dreamtale#the dark fortress#dragon au#nightmare sans#killertale#something new#killer sans#horrortale#horror sans#dusttale#dust sans#reader#big monsters are my favourite#definitely enjoying playing around with these guys#this au is not exactly a happy one#but there are some sweet moments to sweeten the bad times#i would totally write for these guys again
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