#he’s struggling with someone that a knife could help with

[rose24207]

i love mafia!lando omg😭 how about something more bad/slightly bad happens(idk like someone try breaking in or something like that) and we get to see lando all protective and then later y/n calms him down

Right time

Summary: When an intruder threatens your life, Lando's protective instincts take over as he saves you and vows to eliminate any danger, all while you help him find solace in the aftermath.

Genre: Mafia!Lando, angst

TW: Mafia, knief, gun

A/N: Thank you for the request!! I hope you like it and it is how how imagined it!! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The house felt too big, too quiet. You told yourself for the fifth time that night that everything was fine, that Lando had promised to be home soon.

Still, your eyes flicked to the front door every few minutes, and your grip on the blanket tightened each time you thought you heard something outside.

He hadn’t told you much about the threats against you, only that they were serious and that he’d take care of it. But Lando’s overprotective streak didn’t leave much to the imagination.

They wouldn’t dare come here, you thought, trying to reassure yourself. Lando had always kept his world separate from yours—or so he tried to.

But as the clock ticked past midnight, a faint noise shattered that illusion.

The sound of glass breaking came from the back of the house. Your heart skipped a beat, and you sat up, holding your breath.

It could’ve been something outside, something harmless—but then you heard the unmistakable creak of the back door opening.

Someone was inside.

You scrambled off the couch, fumbling for your phone on the coffee table. Your hands trembled as you unlocked it and pulled up Lando’s number, but before you could hit call, a hand clamped down on your wrist, yanking you back.

Your phone fell to the floor with a clatter as you were spun around to face a man—tall, muscular, and radiating menace.

His grip on your arm was bruising, and his dark eyes scanned you like a predator sizing up its prey.

“You must be her,” he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

“Let me go!” you struggled, trying to yank your arm free, but he only tightened his hold, pulling you closer.

“Shame. I almost feel bad about this,” he said, though his cruel smirk told you otherwise. “But orders are orders.”

Your stomach twisted in terror as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a knife. The blade caught the faint light of the TV screen, gleaming ominously.

“L-Lando’s going to kill you,” you stammered, hoping to scare him, but he only chuckled darkly.

“Not if I finish my job first.”

The blade moved closer, and panic surged through you. You screamed, loud and piercing, hoping that someone—anyone—might hear.

The tires of Lando’s car screeched to a halt outside the house. He hadn’t felt right about leaving you tonight, and now, as he stepped out of the car, something felt off.

The house was too dark, too quiet. His stomach churned, and his hand instinctively went to the gun tucked into his waistband.

Then he heard it—your scream.

Pure adrenaline coursed through him as he sprinted to the door, flinging it open.

His eyes scanned the room in a flash, taking in the overturned furniture and the man holding you by the arm, a knife pressed dangerously close to your throat.

The world narrowed to two things: you, terrified and struggling, and the intruder threatening your life.

“Get your hands off her!” Lando roared, his voice filled with a fury that shook the walls.

The man froze for a split second, but that was all Lando needed. In an instant, he had his gun drawn, aiming directly at the intruder’s head.

The man smirked, trying to act unaffected. “You’re quick, Norris. But not quick enough.”

Lando didn’t hesitate.

He fired a shot just to the left of the man’s head, the bullet embedding in the wall with a deafening crack.

The sound made the intruder flinch, loosening his grip on you just enough for you to wrench yourself free and stumble back toward Lando.

“Get behind me,” Lando ordered, his voice sharp but protective.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

The intruder raised his hands, stepping back slightly. “You’re going to regret this,” he sneered. “We’re not done.”

Lando’s aim didn’t waver. “Oh, we’re done. And if you so much as look in her direction again, I’ll make sure no one ever finds you.”

The man hesitated, clearly weighing his options. Lando cocked the gun again, his eyes dark with fury. “Leave. Now.”

The intruder didn’t dare test him further. With one last glare, he turned and bolted out the door.

The moment he was gone, Lando turned to you, his hands gripping your shoulders as his eyes scanned you for injuries.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly despite his effort to stay calm.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “No, I—I’m okay.”

His jaw tightened, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it almost hurt. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I should’ve been here. I should’ve—”

“Lando, stop,” you said, your voice shaky but firm. You pulled back just enough to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. “You were here when it mattered. That’s all that matters.”

His green eyes were glassy as they met yours, the adrenaline still coursing through him. “I could’ve lost you,” he whispered.

“But you didn’t,” you said softly. “I’m here. I’m safe. Thanks to you.”

His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “I’m never leaving you alone again,” he vowed.

You smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “I’m okay now. But Lando… you need to calm down.”

He let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling slightly as he lowered them to his sides. “I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened.”

“Don’t,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “You stopped it. That’s what matters.”

You guided him to the couch, sitting beside him and holding him close. His head rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension slowly leaving his body as you ran your fingers through his curls.

“We’ll get through this,” you whispered. “Together.”

And for the first time that night, you felt him relax, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like his lifeline.

Thank you for reading!

[kpgimpactor]

story time 👹

[muffinlance]

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[aliidarling]

Ok so reader only know ghostface without the mask and one day catches him take off his mask during a kill and she says that’s hot and he finds out she has a mask kink and maybe like predator prey with squirting ?

He’s lucky she’s into bad boys. Fluff to nsfw

make you mine

ETHAN LANDRY x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable!

summary: you have a study date with your crush and walk in on him wearing his silly ghostface robe

warnings: smut, p in v, blood, oral, light choking, creampie, sweet and mean ethan kinda, mask kink, ethan is our cute psycho bae

i hope you like it :) i’m sorry i didn’t really know how to include predator prey

nsfw content below !!

it had been a few months since you met ethan. he was all you’ve ever wanted— sweet, caring, smart, and dorky. you were into all the same things, from star wars down to gaming. the only thing that wasn’t identical between the two of you were your study habits.

you wouldn’t say you were a troubled student, no, you were struggling student. you needed help, and who’s better to help you then your hot crush who happens to be a straight A+ student?

you had talked it over with him the other day and you both agreed you’d come down to his dorm tonight for a study date— session. he said chad was with tara tonight so it would be just the two of you, ridding you of chads loud yelling. chad was nice, you loved him, but he could get quite a bit annoying when it comes to his gaming or sports shows.

so here you stood, knocking on ethan’s dorm door. silence is all that answered you. you were quite annoyed, you had been standing here for a few minutes now, staring at the wood in your face and waiting for it to open. but thus, no answer. worst part? you could hear the sound of someone walking around and moving things inside. ethan was home. was he ignoring you?

“ethan?” you call out, now getting a little worried. there had been a killer on the loose recently, going by the name ghostface. his shrieking mouth and wide black eyes lingered in your head, for good and bad reasons you didn’t wanna discuss. a voice whispered in your ear, telling you ethan was in trouble inside.

your hand found its way on the handle and slowly turned it, blinking in surprise when it opens with a small creak. it wasn’t like ethan or chad to leave their door ever unlocked. odd.

you step in and immediately freeze at the sight of blood trails on the ground, splattered over the floor and leading to ethan’s room. you gulp nervously and quickly lock the door behind you, worriedly rushing to his kitchen to grab a knife before slowly walking towards his bedroom.

you peeked your head in, looking around the dark young adult room. he had a large bed in the corner of the room, with dozens of pillows and a plaid navy blue blanket, his clothes hanging on the edges. his desk was next to his bed, also working as his nightstand, with his gaming set up on the top. you loved his gaming set up, it was always fun to play on it or watch him play himself.

but it wasn’t how messy his room was that had you gaping in shock— no, it was the sight of him standing in the middle of the room with his back to you, black robe stained with bloody smears on his body, and a familiar mask in his hands. he was looking around the room in a rush, trying to change out of it quickly before you came, you assumed.

“ethan?” you choked out, your voice pathetically small.

he jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately turning to face you. his eyes are wide, brown curls messy and his plump lips parted in surprise. horror takes over his expression as he gawks at you, holding the mask silently for a moment before shoving it behind his mask.

“what are you doing here?” he coughs awkwardly.

you gaze at him, blinking dumbly.

“we.. had.. a study da— session.”

“..right.” he gulps hard. he didnt forget, of course he didn’t. he had been freaking out all week about having the perfect night with you. he was gonna play a movie and study with you and play some games— not whatever the hell this is.

“..you’re.. the ghostface.” you mumble and step forward, shutting the door behind you. he blinks in surprise at your easiness and how you weren’t on your knees crying. you were calm. collected. it freaked him out a little.

“you’re not screaming and crying.” he comments, dark eyes staring you down as you finally step face to face with him. a small smile tugs at your lips, hands going to gently pull the mask from his hands to look over the white plastic now stained red.

“i’m just glad you’re okay,” you mumble, rubbing the blood smudge, “i saw the blood trail and assumed the worst.” you smile up at him. he shudders.

this was weird. you weren’t scared at all. no, you were giving him bedroom eyes and showing your pretty little smile at him. he wants to scoop you up already.

“you do realize i’m the ghostface, right?” he scoffs, one hand going to gently take your chin. his robe and bloody appearance gives him more confidence, letting him take ahold of your face to pull him closer. “the same dude who’s been trying to kill all our friends.”

he doesn’t miss the way your cheeks burn up at his touch. a small grin appears on his face. he couldn’t of fallen in love with a more perfect woman.

“as long as you don’t hurt me.” you smile sheepishly and look him up and down, scanning his attire more clearly now that you’re up close. it’s slightly sparkly, the fabric glistening from his led lights.

“i would never hurt you.” he coo’s, gently rubbing his thumb against your porcelain skin. his gloves are thick but you can still feel his warmth against your skin, rubbing a small amount of blood onto your skin. he smiles at the contrast of your cute face with the blood stain.

your lips part by themselves as you look up at him, lashes batting. he takes one good look at your face and immediately knows what you want. one hand wraps around your small waist and the other tangles itself in your hair, pulling you against his lips with a small moan.

the kiss is gentle and slow, soft pants leaving the two of you between each kiss. your skin felt milky in his hands. you had imagined the two of you kissing many times— during your lunch break and when you had movie nights with the whole friend group, but you never imagined it like this.

with blood all over him, the ghostface mask in your hand and his rough hands gently scooping you up into his arms. his muscles have never been more prominent, making you cling tighter and let out a small moan into his lips. he groans at your soft little noise, pulling you closer and starting to walk you towards his bed.

with a soft thud your back hits the mattress, blinking up at him with a flushed expression and a smile creeping onto your lips. he begins to put his mask off to the side before you quickly catch his wrist, “wait, don’t.” you say. he frowns down at you in surprise, brow raising up.

“don’t what?” he hums in amusement.

“keep.. it.. on.” you mutter hesitantly.

oh, you were gonna be the death of him for sure. your cute little smile and big eyes blinking up at him innocently, as if you didn’t just ask him to fuck you in his mask. he can’t help but immediately smash his lips back onto yours, taking advantage of the last few seconds he’ll be able to kiss you.

his hands are gentle with you but in a hurry as he tugs down your clothes, pulling down your bottoms and yanking your top off you. he’s trying be careful— but he can’t wait any longer for your sweet taste.

“i’m gonna use my mouth on you and then i’ll put the mask on, okay?” he whispers, glancing at you with pleading brown eyes. you nod meekly and part your thighs, watching as he lowers his head between them and presses a soft kiss to your folds. you let out a soft exhale at that, your hands going to tangle themselves in his soft hair. you make sure you don’t accidentally pull his hair too hard.

his lips aren’t very experienced when it comes to pleasing women but he tries his best, sucking at your clit while his gloved fingers prod at your hole, gently sliding in a finger and curling it up into your g-spot. the noise you make motivates him further, his sucking increasing in its pressure as he wiggles his finger.

“please, just like that-“ you gasp, your legs finding their way over his shoulders. your feet kick lightly against his muscular back, eyes fluttered shut in bliss and mouth agape with noises falling out like a broken record.

he hums, muffled by your pussy. the vibration makes you shiver and clench down on his fingers. he notices and decides to add in his second finger, giving your clit a few little nibbles to distract you from the stretch. you whine lewdly and he chuckles lightly.

a few more minutes are spent of him slowly building you up until you fall over the edge, moaning happily as he drives his thick fingers deeper and deeper until you cum on his fingers, some of it getting on his chin. his lower face glows with your essence, parting after a moment with a slow breath.

“so perfect for me.” his lips perk up, hands going to tug at your waist, pulling you further down the bed until your right under him. he kneels over you, grabbing his mask and pulling it back on. your reaction is immediate, cheeks flushing at the sight of the tall masked man, bloody mask and robe looming over your naked form.

“never thought you’d be into this, doll.” he muses, feeling a switch in his personality with the confidence the mask gives him. his hands are quick to pull his robe aside, pulling his hard cock out from his sweatpants. it slaps against his abdomen with a soft squelch, the pre cum glistening with his tip throbbing red.

“gonna be a good girl and take this cock?” he asks gently, crawling over you.

“yes ghostface..” you giddily smile, grinning up at him as he presses your thighs to your chest and giving him access to your core. he smiles under his mask in approval, gently rubbing circles on your thighs, before pressing his head against your opening. he watches your face as he slowly inches it in, going deeper and deeper into your gummy walls, splitting you apart in his girth.

“fuck, feels s’good ethan.” you say in an almost whiny tone, gawking at the stretch and how good it feels to have your best friend finally dick you down the way you’ve been imagining for months. you’re rendered speechless as he impales you slowly and gently, relishing in how you moan so pretty.

“it’s ghostface to you, baby.” he corrected with a cocky tone. once the words leave his mouth, he delivers a harsh thrust into you, making you bite down and squeak. the stretch is barely there anymore— your wetness letting him easily make his home inside you.

“s-sorry, sorry, please ghostface—“ you quickly replied, chest heaving up and down as he starts a pace. your mouth falls open as his fat head slams against your cervix, hands holding your thighs tightly down with an almost bruising grip. when you imagined finally having sex with him, you pictured gentle and slow love making, not this.

his shrieking expression stared down at you emotionlessly, the blood reminding you he had just murdered someone before pushing his cock inside you. their blood was all over the room, staining the floor and now your porcelain skin. and for some odd reason, your pussy clamped down on him harder at that.

“you’re— so— so damn, tight—“ he hisses lowly, a guttural groan coming from him. he harshly slams inside you, one of his hands going to wrap around your throat and squeeze. the choking catches you off guard, blinking up at him in distraught before whimpering pathetically.

he snickers at that. “such a god damn whore,” he laughs, squeezing your airway gently while thrusting harder and harder into your pussy. “moaning like a slut while the blood of an innocent person gets all over them.” he huffs.

he pulls himself down, pressing his chest against your thighs. “my slut, right?” he coos in an almost sweet tone, mocking you no doubt. you nod with a muffled cry, feeling your orgasm near once again. he could feel himself growing close to his climax as well, his cock throbbing intensely inside you.

“fuck— fuck, gonna cum? gonna cum for me?” he gives your thigh a little swat before pressing his rough fingers against your clit, pinching and rubbing it harshly as you squeal. he doesn’t let up on his pace at all, rather taking your choked up noises as more reason to go harder.

your nod is eager and messy, big watery eyes gazing up at his mask. your pussy was too tight and he could feel himself cumming already, his thrusts slowing down until he gives you one last little jerk of his hips. a soft sigh leaves him as your walls spasm around him tightly. his eyes widen in shock as you squirt all over his cock and robe, a gasp leaving the two of you.

it’s silence for a moment before he starts snickering, staring down at the mess you made of his robe. your cheeks turn red and you weakly sit up, blinking at him with dazed eyes and swollen lips. he could see the light mark his hand made around your neck, making him almost harden again.

“s-shut up, i didn’t know i could do that!” you hiss defensively, blushing and squeezing your thighs shut. he laughs and shakes his head, pulling his mask off and shaking his curls free.

“dont worry about it baby, just lay back. lemme clean you up and then maybe we can do that studying.” he snorts. you roll your eyes and reluctantly lay back down, staring at him.

“are you, uh, actually ghostface?” your small question breaks the silence as he fixes you up. he scowls down at you.

“yeah, dumbass.”

[sunsburns]

not you too

pairing: jason todd x ex vigilante!reader

summary: for the first time in a long time, you're hurting, deeply. an old wound that's reopened, the knife that was once there finding its place back between your ribs. jason todd comes to you in the middle of the night, bleeding all over your floor, rubbing salt to an old wound.

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, angst, the good old cleaning the other's wounds after a rough patrol but this one has a little bit of plot and spice to it ngl.

based off of this request

You always try to keep your nights as simple as possible. Working under Commissioner Jim Gordon had its perks, but peace of mind wasn’t one of them. Between juggling case files, analyzing crime scenes, and trying to stay ahead of Gotham’s ever-growing list of threats, your days were more than chaotic.

Gordon, a mentor as much as a boss, trusted you with sensitive information that only a few had access to—and you took that responsibility seriously. What he didn’t know was how deep your connection to Gotham’s vigilantes truly ran.

While Gordon believed in the power of the law, you knew sometimes it wasn’t enough. That’s where Batman came in. Your dual role—an officer of the GCPD by day, and a secret informant for Batman by night—had become second nature. You fed him intel and helped him stay ahead of Gotham’s worst, all while maintaining the facade of loyalty to the department.

You weren't proud about it, but he gave you enough hush money that you don't question it whenever he appears by the office as you leave your later shifts.

Friday nights were your escape. After a week of handling reports, dissecting evidence, and sidestepping questions from Gordon about your mysterious late-night absences, you let yourself disconnect. You skipped the gym after work, came home early, and cooked yourself a proper dinner. By the time the sun set, you were showered, dressed in your comfiest pyjamas, and settled on the couch with a movie.

Tonight was no different. You’d just closed a case with Gordon’s team, a robbery ring, criminals now behind bars, but Gotham never truly rested. Tomorrow would bring another wave of crime, another set of challenges. Still, for now, you had this moment of peace.

The movie droned on in the background as you finished dinner, exhaustion from the week creeping in. Your eyes fluttered shut halfway through, the comfort of your quiet apartment lulling you to sleep. By the time the credits rolled, you were completely out, wrapped in the safety of your little corner of the world.

That is until a faint creak from your window broke the silence.

You stirred groggily, blinking at the clock. It was well past midnight. Gotham was still alive outside—sirens in the distance, the occasional rumble of a motorcycle passing by—but your apartment had fallen into stillness. You stretched, ready to drag yourself to bed, but something wasn’t right.

The creak came again. Your blood ran cold.

Someone was in your apartment.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes darted around the dimly lit room. The faint sound of creaking had stopped, leaving an eerie silence behind, but there—a shadow moved. Your heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you reached blindly for something, anything to defend yourself. The remote was the closest thing at hand. You gripped it tightly, feeling foolish but unwilling to let go, and scrambled to stand.

In the faint glow from the streetlight filtering through the curtains, you finally saw him—a large figure by the balcony door, hunched over, struggling to quietly close the glass behind him. He moved slowly, cautiously, as if he didn’t want to be noticed. But you had already seen enough.

The silhouette was unmistakable.

“Jason.”

His shoulders stiffened at the sound of his name, freezing in place for a second before turning to face you. Even in the darkness, you could feel the weight of his gaze through the red-tinted visor of his helmet, his expression unreadable beneath it.

You lowered the remote slowly, heart still racing, but now for a different reason. “You can’t—you can’t just break in like this,” you stammered, your voice tinged with frustration and worry. You’d seen him do this too many times, yet it never got easier.

He let out a gruff, annoyed sound beneath the helmet, shoulders sagging as he took a step closer. “Not like you were gonna answer the door.” His voice was rough, and the bitterness in his tone was impossible to miss.

Your irritation flared, but then you noticed something—a slight tremor in the way he moved. His steps were sluggish, almost hesitant, and he favoured his right side, trying to mask it.

He wasn’t just annoyed.

He was hurt.

As he stepped out of the shadow, the dim lamp light caught the outline of his armour. That’s when you noticed it—dark stains creeping across the front of his suit, and the way his hand pressed against his side, the faint sound of a pained breath slipping past his otherwise guarded posture.

“You’re bleeding,” you muttered, the frustration quickly giving way to concern. He didn’t respond, his gaze avoiding yours as he leaned back against the wall, clearly uncomfortable with being here. Jason never wanted anyone to see him like this—least of all you.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he grumbled, the words tinged with a mix of guilt and exasperation. “Go to bed. I’ll be out in a minute. Just needed some stuff. Still got that first aid kit?”

You shook your head, taking a cautious step closer, your heart sinking at the sight of him in pain. “Jason, you can’t just—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off sharply, pushing himself off the wall, wincing as the movement aggravated his wound. His stance was defensive like he was already preparing to run before you could offer to help.

But the moment his knees buckled slightly, the tough exterior he was trying to maintain cracked. You could see it in the way his breath hitched, the way he clutched at his side like he was barely holding it together.

He wasn’t here because he wanted to be. He was here because he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Jason pulled the mask off his head, his breath coming in sharp gasps as if the helmet had been suffocating him. He tossed it carelessly onto your dining table before glancing at you, his expression tight. “You got it or not?”

His voice startled you into action. “Uh—yeah, I’ve got it.” You scrambled down the hall toward the bathroom, hands shaking as you rifled through the drawers for the first aid kit. His footsteps echoed faintly in your living room, boots heavy against the hardwood. Now that he’d been caught, his presence filled the space in a way that made it impossible to ignore.

You tried to steady your breathing, but it was no use. No matter how many times you’d imagined running into Jason again, it was never like this. In your daydreams, you hoped you’d bump into him on the street, or maybe during work.

There were even moments where you’d foolishly fantasized about seeing him at Wayne Manor, handing over files to Bruce as a favour, only to lock eyes with Jason from across the room. But this? Jason bleeding out on your floor, breaking into your apartment in the middle of the night? This wasn’t what you wanted.

When you returned to the living room, he had already shed his jacket, revealing a deep gash along his side. It was messy, and the blood soaked into the fabric of his suit, leaving dark stains that made your stomach drop.

He’d settled into something uncomfortably familiar—boots kicked off by the door, sitting against the wall like old times, but this time he kept his distance, his body tense.

He didn’t want to be here.

You hesitated as you approached, the kit in your hand. “Jason, let me—”

“I’ve got it.” His voice was sharp, cutting you off as he took the first aid kit from your hands without so much as a glance. His glare kept you at arm’s length, and it hurt. The way he shut you out, even when he was barely holding himself together.

He didn’t trust anyone—not entirely.

Not after everything.

Still, seeing him like this made something twist in your chest. Bleeding and worn down, but too stubborn to ask for help. There was a heaviness in the air, lingering in the silence that stretched between you both. It wasn’t just about tonight—it was everything that had been left unresolved before, all the words that had gone unsaid the last time you’d seen each other. But now, with Jason sitting right in front of you, neither of you dared to speak.

You crouched a few feet away, sitting on the floor across from him, watching as he tried to clean the wound himself. His hand shook slightly, though he tried to hide it, his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth against the pain. It was bad—worse than he was letting on.

“Jason, stop,” you finally said, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re gonna make it worse.”

“I don’t need your help,” he bit out, refusing to meet your eyes. “I’ve done this a thousand times.”

He huffed, annoyed, but when he tried to move again, his breath hitched—pain breaking through the cracks of his tough exterior. His hand slipped, and the antiseptic bottle nearly fell from his grip. You didn’t wait for his permission this time. You slid over, taking the kit from his hand.

“Just let me do it,” you murmured, your voice firmer now.

Jason didn’t argue this time, though his jaw was still set in that stubborn way you knew all too well. You could feel the heat branching off him as you gently touched his arm to move it out of the way and clean the wound. His whole body stiffened at the contact like he wasn’t used to being taken care of—or maybe he just didn’t want it.

His eyes shifted to the far wall, jaw clenched even tighter, refusing to meet your gaze, but you caught the way his breath hitched ever so slightly when your hands moved over his skin.

He wasn’t saying anything, but his body told you enough. Every time your fingers brushed a sensitive spot or when the antiseptic stung, his lips pressed into a thinner line. He didn’t flinch exactly, but his posture—rigid, unmoving—betrayed how uncomfortable he was.

You weren’t sure what was harder for him: the wound or the fact that he was letting you help. His pride had always been a barrier, a wall he rarely let anyone get through. Yet here he was, in your apartment, wounded and unwilling to admit just how much he needed you.

As Jason shifted slightly, wincing, you took the moment to observe him. It had been a while since you last saw him, and for a second, you searched for something—anything—that might’ve changed. But he was still Jason. Still, the same stubborn man who couldn’t stay out of trouble. Even that white strand of hair was right where it had always been. He looked older somehow, but not in the way time ages people. It was something deeper, worn into him from the life he led.

And then his eyes flicked up, catching you watching him. For a brief moment, neither of you moved. His gaze softened, just barely, before the guarded look returned as quickly as it had slipped away.

He shifted again, his body tense, and glanced around your apartment—anything to avoid looking directly at you. His gaze lingered on your desk, the files from your latest case scattered across it, and his expression darkened. You could see it in his eyes—a mix of suspicion and something else.

“You’ve been busy,” he muttered, his tone gruff, though the edge in his voice told you there was more to it than a simple observation.

You didn’t look up, keeping your hands steady as you applied pressure to the wound. “You know how it is.”

Jason’s jaw twitched. “Yeah,” he said, his tone sharp. “I know how it is.”

It was a jab, even if it was subtle. You could feel the accusation hanging between the lines of his words. He wasn't just talking about your busy schedule—he was digging at the gap between you two, at all the things neither of you had addressed. Your loyalty to Batman. Your work with Gordon.

A little fucking traitor to everything Jason worked for.

You sighed, pressing a little harder than necessary to make a point. “You’re not here for that, Jason.”

He winced, and you almost felt bad. Almost. But the look in his eyes—calculated, like he was searching for the truth behind every move you made—made your chest tighten. His silence was louder than anything he could’ve said.

“You’re not going to ask why I’m here?” His voice was softer now, but there was a bitterness to it. He knew you weren’t stupid. He wasn’t here by choice, and you both knew it. You wanted to ask, but what was the point? Jason never came to you for help, never came to anyone unless he had no other option.

“I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready,” you replied quietly, not daring to meet his eyes. His presence in your home felt heavier than the blood on your hands.

He scoffed, shifting to take the bandage from your hand. “Don’t hold your breath.”

Your hand stilled for a moment, hovering just above his skin. You could feel the heat radiating from him, a reminder of just how close you were to crossing a line neither of you dared to acknowledge. He was still the same Jason, still stubborn as hell, but the space between you felt like it had grown into a chasm. One you weren't sure either of you could cross without everything falling apart.

“Why are you really here, Jason?” you asked, giving in. He was a wanted man, or at least Red Hood was. If you were up to it, you could have him arrested within seconds.

His eyes snapped up, the guarded expression faltering for a moment before his usual defiance returned. “It’s not like I had a lot of options,” he admitted, though the words felt forced like he was offering you an excuse instead of the truth.

“I thought you always had a plan,” you said, words sharper than you intended. “Or is that just another thing you’ve changed your mind about?”

He flinched, and for a second, you regretted saying it. But the hurt between you two had been simmering for too long. His loyalty was always a wild card, and yours? Well, Jason had never forgiven you for staying close to the people he had walked away from.

Jason’s lips twitched, not quite a smirk, but close. “The Bat keeping you on a tight leash?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or is it Gordon now?”

You stiffened, the accusation hitting home more than you liked. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, knowing it sounded weak but unwilling to offer more. It was always the same with Jason—he pushed, prodded, and pulled at the places you tried to protect.

“Yeah, right. Because we both know where your loyalties lie,” Jason snapped, his tone harsher now. His eyes bore into you like he was searching for something—anything—that would confirm his suspicions. That you’d chosen Batman over him. That you were still working with the people who had crossed him.

“I didn’t betray you,” you said quietly, though even as you said it, the words felt hollow. You didn’t know if you believed them anymore.

Jason let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. There was too much between you, too many things left unsaid, and no amount of stitching his wounds would ever fix that. He was right, in a way. You hadn’t chosen him—not when it counted.

Not when he needed you. And for what? For comfort? A little bit of safety? An alliance with Batman? A raise at work? The questions ran through your mind like jagged edges. It wasn’t that simple, but neither of you had ever really said the things that needed to be said back then, too busy trying to fix things that did not need fixing.

His breathing had become more laboured as you worked, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The wound you were treating was deep, and too close to critical areas for comfort.

Jason’s hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling into fists as if he was fighting the pain, refusing to show just how much it hurt. But you could see it in the way his body trembled under your touch—he was reaching his limit.

“Let me finish,” you said, your tone softer, more insistent. "Stop fighting me."

For once, he didn’t argue. His jaw unclenched, his shoulders slackened slightly, and his eyes—usually so guarded—softened just enough to show how exhausted he really was. Physically, emotionally, all of it. He wasn’t invincible, and tonight, that truth was catching up with him faster than he could hide.

You moved closer, hands brushing against his skin as you worked quickly, trying to keep your focus. His skin was warm, slick with sweat and blood, and the faintest tremor ran through his frame as your fingers traced the edge of the wound. But the closeness was unnerving—both of you acutely aware of each other in a way that made the room feel smaller.

You caught his eyes as you reached for more gauze, and for a split second, neither of you looked away. His gaze burned into you, full of unspoken questions, of things he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say. And for the first time, you wondered if you weren’t the only one who had felt betrayed.

But you’d both been wrong. You could see it now, in the way his eyes darkened with unsaid accusations, in the way your heart ached with unresolved regret. You thought you were protecting him by walking away—by choosing the safer path, Batman’s path. And Jason, with all his reckless defiance, had been too far gone in his need for vengeance to understand why you couldn’t follow him down that road.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. “I can’t trust anyone anymore.”

Your fingers stilled, hovering just above his chest. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you.

"I never asked you to trust me," you whispered, the words hanging precariously on the line between honesty and regret.

But the truth was, you wanted him to. More than anything.

Jason’s lips tightened into a thin line, and for a moment, you thought he might push you away. His muscles tensed beneath your touch as if bracing himself for another fight. His hand twitched, lifting halfway like he was going to shove you back, but he stopped.

The strain was written all over his face now, and you could see his breathing growing more ragged. His eyes were slipping out of focus, and you noticed the faint green glow flickering at the edges of his irises—Lazarus. It was always there, a reminder of how far he’d gone, how close to the edge he still was.

“Jason…” you said quietly, watching the pain ripple through him. He was losing consciousness, slipping into the darkness despite his stubborn refusal to admit it. His hand finally dropped, brushing against your arm before it hit the floor, the strength leaving him in waves.

“Just… get it over with,” he rasped, his voice cracking.

You pressed the final bandage into place, your hands gentle now, more careful. For a moment, you let your fingers linger, brushing against the rough skin of his shoulder as you finished. His breathing was shallow, but steady, his eyes fluttering shut. The tension drained from his body as the exhaustion finally won, leaving him vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen in a while.

It reminded you of when he used to sleep beside you. Jason had always been restless, even in sleep, twisting in the sheets, his mind never fully at ease. But there had been nights when he would finally relax, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, his head resting against your chest like he found his peace there, with you. You remembered how you’d stroke that same shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin as you whispered for him to rest, that you were there, watching over him.

And yet, here you were, caring for him again.

He stirred slightly, a soft grunt escaping his lips as he adjusted, trying to find a position that eased the pain. His face softened with the kind of weariness that came from more than just the physical strain. You watched his chest rise and fall, the quiet sound of his breath mingling with the hum of the city outside.

Jason’s hand twitched again, brushing against your knee, his fingers grazing your skin with a familiar yet distant touch. It made your heartache.

There was a time when you would’ve done anything to keep him safe, to protect him from the world—and from himself. But now, all you could do was sit there, hands still resting against his skin, wondering if either of you could ever come back from this.

[donatellawritings]

୨୧ how sugardaddy!rafe found his favorite little muñeca

rafe wasn’t entirely sure as to what it was that piqued his father’s need to go on vacation every few months out of the year, but he wasn’t against it. since returning back to tannyhill, following his brief collegiate stint, rafe needed an outlet — a place where he could go and blow a few tens of thousands of dollars and not be reprimanded, a place where he could lose himself in copious amounts of coke without judgement, a place where he could be the man — the one who was needed, the one who had all the answers.

so, when ward came up with the brilliant idea to send his eldest of kin to the island of culebra, puerto rico — just to keep his volatile son out of trouble … rafe was quick and eager to oblige.

the villa was immaculate, completely renovated from the ground up, with the pristine view of the clear turquoise waters that crashed against the powder white sand. but what caught rafe’s bright baby blues was the little puerto rican girl who stood bent over, tiny white shorts sucked in the soft fat of your plush ass as you carefully picked at the bright fuschia hibiscus flower that grew alone in the patch of crisp green grass. shiny blown out hair cascaded down the small of your back as rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, watching closely as you straightened your posture, the shorts now almost entirely swallowed by your plump ass.

rafe couldn’t help himself, but continue to ogle at you, his bloodshot eyes carelessly drinking in the way your bronze skin shimmered under the sun, as well as the cute hot pink heart-shaped glitter tattoo that sparkled on your lower back. and fuck, it took everything in him to not shove his hand down his pants with the way the fat of your ass sat all heavy and perfectly curved against the flimsy fabric of your shorts.

smiling to himself, rafe obnoxiously clears his throat, causing you to flinch and whip your pretty little head at him, all wide eyed and open-mouthed, “uh, don’t think y’should be pickin’ at other people’s flowers, huh?” he questions, his voice dripping in a condescending cadence as you immediately drop the pretty flower from your small fist, allowing it to fall at your sparkly pink toes.

remaining silent, you awkwardly shift on your feet, blinking your wispy lashes together as you close your mouth, “i’m sorry, i just — hmph,” you sigh, your nose scrunched in frustration as you struggled to find the right words … in english, at least.

cocking his head to the side, rafe chuckles at your fussy state, his stringy bangs masking the way he incessantly stared at the way the swells of your breasts bounced against your one size too small lily pink triangle bikini top. judging by your thick accent, rafe could tell that communicating with you would be a bit of a struggle — lucky for you, he considered himself to be a proactive man of sorts.

taking a step closer to you, rafe feigns a sigh of disappointment, even going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose “i don’t know, i may just have to tell someone that y’just comin’ here and makin’ a mess of things — i can’t have that, sweetheart,” he shrugs.

your little heart thumped rapidly against your chest as you bit down into your pouty bottom lip, swallowing thickly as you brought your terrified gaze to the ground.

deciding to twist the knife, rafe nudged the point of your chin with the side of his signet-tinged index finger with squinted eyes, “y’parents never taught y’how to talk to people, huh?” he questions, his pupil-blown eyes searching yours as you parted your swollen lips.

furiously shaking your head, you take a short breath, “i-i dunno how — the words are h-hard,” you speak, your voice small and mousey as your eyes meet rafe’s intimidatingly blue ones.

“well, y’gotta learn, yeah?” rafe shrugs.

with bright and naive eyes, you let out an excited gasp, “you can teach me?” you question, swollen lips pursed together as rafe licks over his pink chapped lips, taking another step closer to you as his rough hand grasps the side of your face.

you were a naive little one, a bit too welcoming … but he could fix teach you.

bringing his thumb to curve around your jaw, rafe shushes you, “y’shouldn’t be walkin’ around stranger’s houses dressed like that — your daddy ever teach you that?” rafe lightly pushes your head back, a shit-eating grin now playing on his handsome face as you obediently answer him with a forceful shake of your head.

your bambi eyes now welled with embarrassed tears, you gently attempted to pull your face from the young man’s tight hold, “yo no tengo …” you whimper softly.

shifting your face, rafe raises a corrective brow at you, “english, kid,” he scolds.

poking out your fat bottom lip in a wobbly pout, you lightly stomp your foot in frustration, “i don’t have a daddy,” you whine, a warm teardrop rolling down the apple of your cheek as rafe tutted at you with a knowing nod to himself.

“that’s the problem, huh? y’don’t have a daddy to keep y’little ass in line,” rafe mumbles, bringing his thumb to mush against your swollen and somewhat sticky lips as you stare at him with confused, yet needy little eyes.

letting go of your jaw, rafe runs a hand through his greasy hair, before swiping at the corner of his mouth with his finger, “listen kid, m’gonna take care of you, yeah? buy you whatever girly shit y’like — maybe even take y’home with me one of these days —”

“like a daddy?”

letting out a huff, rafe takes in the way you reach down to grab ahold of the wilted flower, boobs nearly spilling out of your bikini tops as you fist it tightly in your grip, “yes, but i’ll be your daddy —”

“papi!” you beam, a wide smile stretching your swollen lips as you bat your cutesy stacked lashes together, “that’s your name?” you ask politely, reaching your small hands to tug on the waistband of your shorts, unknowingly pulling them further up your ass.

“rafe is my name, pretty girl — but y’can call me papi, okay?” he coos, swiftly snagging the flimsy flower from your hand, causing you to pout as you roll your eyes, leaving rafe to snap his fingers at you, “hey — don’t start that shit, now come here and let me fix y’up,” he commands, internally satisfied with the way you quickly removed the frown from your face and walked over to him, the tips of your toes meeting the tips of his sandals.

curling a ginger underneath the waistband of your shorts, rafe softly pulls on the stretchy fabric, taking a mental note of the frilly thing you wore underneath. placing the flower in your shorts, rafe carefully secures the band of your shorts to hold the flower upright, you dainty belly button ring also catching his watchful eyes.

craning your neck to get a look of your cute new accessory, you scoff with excitement, “aye, es muy bonita, papi!” you squeal, rushing to swing your arms around rafe’s tense and warm neck.

lightly patting the top of the curve of your asscheek, rafe gently pulls you away from him, “listen, kid — y’can’t just trust every person you meet, yeah? not everyone is going to be nice like your papi, hm?” he clasps his hands around your bare shoulders, biting back a smirk as you nod feverishly.

“tell me that you understand,” rafe pushes, silently encouraging you with a small squeeze of your shoulders.

“i und-understand,” you breathe out.

bringing a hand to barely pat your cheek, rafe reaches his free hand down to tug the hem of your shorts down to cover your ass, “good girl — now why don’t y’come with daddy and i’ll buy y’some pretty clothes,” rafe hums, massaging your cheek with his thumb.

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 IV

Part I Part II Part III

Wow, can't believe this was just a concept idea and this is part IV XD Part V may be the end but I'm not entirely sure. Don't get your hopes up for a part VI

Also, some of y'all wanted a tag list soo (Did my best but I couldn't @ some of you-)

Tag: @redkarmakai @erikasurfer @szapizzapanda @kore-of-the-underworld @imhere2dosomething @pastel-mouse @cooki3dough @naina326 @peptox @ladylupuscrow @confused-they @megasweetbones @1-800-crazy @lillian-morningstar @butterflycardigann

CW: Mention of past kidnapping, bar fight, blood, "death" and lab testing. Self-harm (Reader testing their ability). Gun shot and injury.

After you finally get Richard Grayson off your windowsill, you can sit down and eat

What makes him think that he can just walk into your life?! And with him being a vigilante, he most definitely could have saved you all that time ago! 

To clear your head, you try to remember what happened before you found yourself in your “brother’s” apartment. 

You and your friends wanted to go to a bar before college started…….a fight happened….How are your friends?! Did classes start already?! 

Opening your group chat with your friends, there are some messages about the bar fight, Red Hood, and how they’d visit you in the hospital

When making your message for the chat, you lie about being discharged from the hospital and ask if classes have already started

Your friends are so kind and update you on everything that has happened since you were in the hospital

The fall semester has begun but you should have an excuse because you were in the hospital

With some help, you were able to email all your professors about your absence and just hope they don’t drop you from the classes

Also hope they don’t ask for any documents from the hospital to confirm that you were there.

After a bit of rambling, you and your friends log off the group chat for the night. You never told them about what actually happened to you or what you found out about Nightwing, Red Hood, etc.

The information is difficult for you to process. Your whole family are famous vigilantes and no one came to save you when you were kidnapped. 

And Nightwing, he really was your first friend in Bludhaven and it always hurts to lose someone close

But he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve your attention and time when he abandoned you just like the rest of the family.

You would have been dead if it wasn't for this weird thing that keeps your heart beating!

Maybe it would be a good idea to test this “power” of yours. You’ve died twice now and it seems that it takes a couple of days to heal and regain consciousness

Just for a small test, you make a small cut on your finger and watch it heal right before your eyes. You were hesitant to do these tests at first but this is also fascinating

Another cut is but a little bigger and it takes a little longer to heal. 

This continues a few times before you can have an idea of how long it takes for your body to heal itself. 

Once you’re done, you decide to go to sleep again and wait until it’s morning

Back at the manor, Tim has been hard at work. Making multiple plans that will end with you coming back home

Some are more intense than others but it can't be helped if you decide to be difficult 

Tim has also spent a lot of time researching your “powers”

Back when Dick saved you from that thief, Tim took the knife with your blood on it for research

Some interesting findings can be helpful if all else fails

It’s around noon when you wake up and your professors responded to your emails

They say that you’re allowed to keep your classes but there is a lot of classwork to catch up on

After eating some lunch, you sit down and look over all the work you’ve got to do. That is a lot….

You spend all day struggling and planning how you’ll get help

The next day, you decide to go to class. You go a little early because you knew you’d likely be lost

Luck seems to be on your side because you’re able to find your classroom! 

Walking inside, you talk to the professor and they tell you about a project for pairs

Thankfully, you’ve already been assigned a pair so you won’t be alone. You do feel bad about not being here to help though 

The professor points you in the direction of your partner and you introduce yourself. The moment your pair looks at you, your mood immediately takes a 180

Why is Tim Drake in your class? Doesn’t he go to a college in Gotham or something?

You pretend to be polite until the professor walks away and you glare at your partner while he just smiles at you

When you sit next to Tim, you try to sit as far away from him but he just moves closer

Before you can argue with him, the professor starts talking about the assignment for the day

You try to do the assignment alone but immediately get lost and you reluctantly accept Tim’s offers to help

Tim’s explanations were quite helpful and you both finished quite quickly. The room is filled with chatter so you take this moment to interrogate your “brother”

He gives vague answers to your questions but is sure to mention that he didn't want to leave his “sibling” by themself

Before you can respond, Tim cuts you off by saying he has something for you

You watch him carefully as he shows you a familiar item

Your phone

You instinctively reach for it but Tim stops you by grabbing your wrist

Glaring at Tim and his smiling face, he says he’ll give your phone back if you’d go back to the manor for at least one night

Tim repositions his hand on your wrist to be your hands intertwined 

You try to remove your hand but Tim persists. It isn't until you decline his offer does he put your hand down

You’ve lived a couple of weeks now without your phone so there is no need for it. Plus, you plan to buy a new one later

Tim doesn’t mention the family for the rest of the class

When class is over, you immediately go to the library (Almost got lost) to finish more work 

You settle at an empty table near a window and take out your laptop. Of course, it doesn't take long for you to struggle with the assignment and begin feeling annoyed

(Un)Luckly, Tim has found you and offered to help

With his help, you’re able to complete a few assignments before you have another class to go to

Tim invites you to the manor again but you still decline him

You only have two classes today so you hope to get home as soon as possible before running into Tim again

This repeats for a couple of more days

Everyday, you always have Tim in one of your classes

Tim attempts to bribe you to go to the manor with him, with your phone, playing games together, some other stuff you didn’t pay attention to

At least he never bribed you with his help on your classwork. Even after you catch up on old assignments, there are just so many concepts to understand

It’s annoying but Tim has successfully squeezed himself into your life by constantly being around

Something seems to have changed though because you notice Tim has started to leave you alone more

You don’t know why but would rather not question it. He’s a vigilante, right? He probably has some work to defeat a villain or something, you can literally care less about what Tim does

One day, you’re with your friends to participate in an event on campus. There are supposed to be games and free food so why not

Before the event began, there was a speech from the sponsor of the event

The sponsor is a lab group of some kind, promoting the study of life and encouraging new findings. You don’t know what it is but something about them sends a shiver down your spine

When the speech ends, you and your friends play a few games when a person from the sponsor stopped by

You all talk a bit and answer some minor questions before the person goes to a different group of people

At the end of the event, your friends offer to drop you off at home but you decline. You don’t live that far away and you also have pepper spray to keep yourself safe

While walking a person blocks your path. It’s that same sponsor person from the event

They go into more detail about the lab group they’re in, researching life and all

You do your best to remain calm, not showing your disturbance by their sudden presence

That is until they point out how there was a bar fight in the area and a victim went missing

A victim that looks exactly like you, covered in bruises and cuts, bleeding so much that the hospital wouldn’t be able to save them

Yet here you are, in perfect condition

This is when they finally reveal their intentions, wanting to figure out how you escape death

Offering a place in the lab group as a researcher and totally not a test subject

You pretend to consider their offer while carefully taking your pepper spray out of your pocket

It seems the person planned for this because they quickly take out and shoot at your hand holding the pepper spray

Terrified, you immediately make a run for it

You’re filled with so much adrenaline that you can't hear the person shout and the other gunshots that nearly miss you 

Running through multiple alleyways, something suddenly grabs you and pulls you into an almost pitch-black area

Things move quickly as an arm wrap around your waist, a whirling sound is suddenly hear above you, your feet leave the ground, and now you’re on a rooftop

You almost collapse once this new random person releases you from their hold

No longer in a dark alley, you can finally see who this new person is

Red Robin 

He gives you some time to catch your breath and calm down, putting his grappling gun back on his utility belt

Once your heart rate slows to a normal pace, you’re quick to show your annoyance at seeing the vigilante

Red Robin just seems to smile at you, not showing how your words affect him in any way

When you finally give Red Robin a chance to speak, he goes straight to the point

He admits to leaking some information to that lab group, just wanting you to see how you can live on your own

Even if Red Robin didn’t tell the lab group about your ability, they would have found out eventually 

That’s what happened to your mother after all

The vigilante then gives you two options

You can go with the research team and be tested on for the rest of your life or you can have a life back at the manor

Hell, there is a chance that your family of vigilantes can find and save your mother. Allowing you to reunite

As long as you returned home

With your two options, you find yourself back at Dick’s apartment

Dick bandaging up your hand, Jason carrying a box with stuff from your apartment, and Tim contacting Bruce

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 12 - Sensory Play]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Yoongi x sub f.!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, second chance!AU, Gangster!AU

Kinks: romantic love making, morning sex, somnophilia, he wakes her with oral sex, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), hair pulling (m.receiving), biting (m.receiving), finger sucking (f.giving), body worship, sensory deprivation with a sleeping mask, praise kink, good girl kink, sensory play, knife play, wax play, but nothing of it hurts her, use of a vibrator, orgasm control & edging, subby girl tears, lots of begging, he is so gentle and loving with her, penetrative vaginal sex in missionary, hand holding, choking (f.receiving), loving dirty talk, creampie, strength kink, protective!Yoongi, she feels so safe being his sub, loving aftercare, some plot: mentions of past struggles with sex because of bad mental health, mentions of corrupt police work, the character growth we all wanted from Yoongs

Wordcount: 5.4k

a/n: all you had to say was say gangster!yoongi and vanilla sex and I KNEW I had to give you the sequel to TCOFU about their mountain holiday. like! do we all get her now and why she couldn’t leave him? like he is really that man omfg oh lord

Yoongi regrets a lot in his life. Quite frankly, he regrets most of his life. He regrets the choices he made and the consequences they bore. He regrets the people he killed because he couldn’t save them and regrets the people he killed because he was reckless. He regrets the hearts he broke and the dreams he crushed. He was a good person once, someone with ambitions and dreams. He was someone who wanted to change the world for the better and he truly thought that he could. And then reality woke him and turned him from a dreaming boy to a hopeless man. 

Yoongi still remembers the breaking point. The true, actual breaking point. He remembers what lunch he had that day. Bibimbap with sausages because you ran out of beef the day before. Yoongi loved eating it, but soon felt it sit in his stomach heavily. Yoongi remembers what he wore that day. His uniform with his favourite pair of socks, which he couldn’t look at after that day. Yoongi also remembers that he cried on the toilet that day because that day was the moment he felt helpless for the first time. A crime happened in his precinct, but the criminal was never punished because it was his boss. His former captain, who was caught with pornographic images of non-consenting women on his hard drive. It was swiped under the rug because he was friends with a politician in a rather high position, who just so happened to know some vultures which called themselves reporters from the press. The women were never allowed justice and the captain ended up working for another three years. Yoongi woke up that day and then began making decisions which were so right at first before he was blinded by the power they brought him.

He became a cop who lived two lives. By day he tried to serve the law and by night he disobeyed it for the sake of helping those who were forgotten by it. It was honourable at first but then he became greedy and the decisions he began making were regretful.

Yoongi regrets a lot of the things he did. He regrets the choices he made, the choices he didn’t make and most of all, he regrets how he treated the person he loved most.

You.

He regrets most how he treated you. 

He became cold, distant and took your affection for granted.

He regrets it. He really does. You have always been the person most important to him and yet he treated you like shit. When you broke up with him, he expected it but never welcomed it. He knew he needed to change for your sake. For his woman and his love. He never thought that you would take him back, but you did and he swore to himself to make you not regret it. 

Yoongi woke before you from the thunderstorm outside. The thunder ripped him awake, making him think for just a moment that he was in danger until he remembered where he was. In the mountains with you far away from the cursed city with its disgusting people. 

You wanted to leave it behind and he wanted to make it possible. He knew that you were struggling for quite awhile now. He also knows that it was mostly his fault and regrets it so deeply that it hurts, but he also knows that the city was at fault. It is dirty and corrupt and filled with suffering. You always had a good heart and an empathetic soul and this city ruined you. Yoongi thought that he could fix it for you, he hoped that he could, but he sometimes thinks that he only made it worse. You said so yourself. He fucked it up, just as much as he fucked you up. Yoongi truly regrets a lot in his life.

Thunder cuts through the silence. You flinch in your sleep, instinctively drawing closer to him. Yoongi shushes you quietly, brushing his hand over your head in soothing. Your body instantly relaxes, a content sound leaves you in a sleepy sigh. Yoongi feels happy witnessing it.

He thinks that he might have finally done something right with this holiday. Yesterday he watched you take a deep breath and relax your shoulders afterwards. You haven’t done this in so long. The day before that, you ate two portions of lunch because you finally had an appetite again. In the car on your way to the mountains, there was a moment where you talked about how beautiful the landscape was. And right now, you are smiling in your sleep as he pets your hair slowly. You are starting to feel like the woman he fell in love with all these years ago. Not burdened by the suffering of others, not suffocated by the toxic fumes of the city, not shackled by your own thoughts. You feel like you and you look happy. 

You look really happy. 

Yoongi traces your eyebrows, heart taking each beat just so he could gaze at you for longer. You are the very reason he breathes. From the very first moment he loved you, he knew that he would do anything for you. He would set the whole world on fire for you. Even kill and he has done so in the past. The scar running down his face will be a visual reminder of it for the rest of his life. On most days, he hates looking at it because he feels ugly with it, but on some days he remembers that if he wasn’t carrying this scar right now, you would have to run around with the memory of being violated by cruel monsters which call themselves men. He stops hating the scar then and swears that he would do it again. He would take a knife to the face over and over again if it meant that you will always be safe. He took this oath years ago and swears to never break it.

Another thunder cuts through the silence as if God Herself was whipping the sky. You flinch awake from it, taking a deep gasp of fear. Your eyes show your feelings.

“Hush, it’s okay. It’s just thunder”, Yoongi whispers, cradling your cheek.

Your fearful eyes lock with his’. Your voice doesn’t want to come out as your lips form his name.

“It’s okay. You’re safe”, he promises and kisses your forehead.

You exhale deeply, touching his chest. His skin practically comes alive where you touch him. You are so warm from sleep.

You crane your neck so you are looking up into his eyes. Thunder and lightning. You don’t flinch anymore, instead, your lips curl into a toothless smile.

Yoongi retorts it, brushing his thumb under your eye.

“I’ve been awake for a while. The storm woke me. I thought someone was trying to fucking shoot me.”

You agree with a knowing snicker and a nod of your head. He chuckles with you.

“I watched you sleep.” He traces the slope of your nose, forcing your eyelids to grow heavy. “You smiled in your sleep.”

“It’s because I’m happy”, you get out and shiver with your entire body, “Yoongi, I feel comfortable”, you confess, cuddling into his chest.

Yoongi hugs you, kissing the crown of your head and closing his eyes. Comfortable might be a normal state to most people, but you haven’t felt like this in too long. Yoongi cherishes your confession deeply. 

He begins running his fingertips up and down your back. It draws you closer to him and for your happy purr to meet his ears. 

“Do you like this?” he asks you in a barely there whisper.

You nod your head, humming your answer. He answers you in a hum as well, continuing his touches. 

You fall back to sleep like this, cradled in his strong arms and against his safe chest as he pets you slowly. The rain and thunder lull you back to sleep as well, now that you know that nothing can hurt you. You are with him and he will always keep you safe.

You don’t quite know how much time passed, but it must have been enough for the thunderstorm to stop. Only rainfall can be heard now. But that isn’t what wakes you. No. Warm, slick pleasure between your legs does. 

“Ah”, you get out, sleepily arching your back and reaching down to see what is making you feel so good. Your legs close around a head, your fingers meet bundles of soft hair. 

Strong hands touch your inner thighs and push your legs apart again. The warm, slick pleasure stops in a sucking sensation. Lips against your inner thigh, teeth in soft bites as well. Sucks and licks and kisses. 

“Good morning, beautiful”, Yoongi rasps between his kisses, “don’t let me wake you, just relax”, he breathes and connects his eager mouth with your pussy again. He sucks and licks, moaning softly each time your clit is between his pouty lips.

It feels so good that you can’t help but whimper. He is so warm and soft. Judging from how wet you are, he has been doing this for quite a while. That explains why your dreams started to become so sinful.

You are delirious from sleep, both numb and sensitive, so what he is currently doing is a lot. You can’t talk yet because you are too tired, making a small sound and twisting his hair. You do it so weakly that Yoongi barely feels it. 

He smiles and tongue kisses your clit with his eyes closed in bliss. You are especially precious when you are sleepy. You get so weak and quiet despite trying to be so strong and loud. Yoongi swears he would do unspeakable things to anyone who dared to disturb you in this state. His protectiveness almost makes him feral. 

But he doesn’t let the feralness consume him. No. He runs his big, strong hands to your waist and places a protective touch on the softest part. Your skin dimples where his fingertips lie. Yoongi knows the meaning of to have and to hold when he can hold you like this, when he can have you like this. 

Your weak body writhes helplessly, your throat produces a small sound. Yoongi soothes you by rubbing your waist and purring around your clit. 

“Oh my god”, you get out in a breathy whisper and whimper, legs closing around his head in a quick twitch and body convulsing in the sudden high his purrs drag out of you.

Yoongi moans, wrapping his muscular arms around your tensing legs and moving his hot tongue on your clit eagerly. Your noises are heaven to him. So sweet, so cute, so perfect. He loves nothing more than making you feel good.

You sob softly, overwhelmed by what he makes you feel. You aren’t even properly awake yet to take in the sensations and now he has you orgasming. It feels like too much and yet so good.

He expected you to orgasm quickly, but not that quickly. He is delirious, rutting the sheets with his aching cock as his tongue makes sweet love to your pussy. This is heaven to him. True heaven. 

“Sto…stop”, you breathe out after your high turns into overstimulation. “Plea..stop…” 

Yoongi listens to your begs, kissing a path up your naked body. It wasn’t always naked but he undressed you so he could gaze at you and worship every inch of you. He missed you a lot in the three months you and he were separated. He needs to truly appreciate every second with you and memorise it so it will always stay with him.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your tender skin slowly. Like this, his hard cock rubs against your thigh. He is naked as well because he wanted to share the state with you. Perhaps there is even a chance that he spent a good ten minutes holding you as you slumbered so his skin could finally feel you again. 

You sigh and chase him. Yoongi understands, giving you what you crave so deeply. A kiss. A slow, deliberate tongue kiss where each second counts and each movement is filled with emotion.

You shiver, burying your hands deep in his soft hair and making him shiver with it. You and he draw closer, skins touching and lips moving with so much more passion. This is the first time you and he have sex here. 

Yoongi has been wanting, craving, you ever since this holiday started, but he knew not to pressure you. You seemed drained and in need of healing. He wanted to give you time to do so. He held back, but he can’t hold back anymore. 

The way you kiss him, lets him know that you don’t want to hold back either. You bury your fingers deeper in his dark hair, making him purr contently. 

Yoongi has the thickest and healthiest hair ever. It is dark black, except for when the sunlight hits it and turns it a warm dark chocolate brown. He wears it slicked back on most days because he wants to look his best as police captain. When he is with you like this however, tangled in the sheets with your bodies still warm from sleep, his hair is unstyled. It is messy and it is soft from the lack of product. It hangs into his face or gets ruffled when you play with it just right. You could honestly write songs about his morning hair.

You break the kiss to look at him in his pretty state. You open your eyes. Darkness. A nervous sound leaves you, fingers coming up to touch your eyes. Soft fabric. How peculiar.

“Don’t be scared. It’s just an eye mask. To heighten your senses”, Yoongi assures you, tracing it gently and with it, ridding you of your fear. “Do you want me to take it off?” 

“No.”

You drop your hands again, sighing his name. He kisses your neck, talking to you like this. He rests his hands on your wrists, long fingers stretching along your palms. There is no pressure involved, neither strength, and yet you still feel so claimed. In a good way of course.

“I want more of you”, he purrs, running his thumbs up and down your tender wrists. 

You whimper and squirm, legs opening.

“But don’t worry, I know you’re not ready yet. Let’s play a game.”

“A game?" you talk in the kind of voice you only possess when you are in subspace. It is soft and a little higher in pitch and brings out Yoongi’s desire to protect. 

“Yes a fun game. You’ll like it.” 

“Please.”

Yoongi begins kissing your face as he talks. It feels so good to receive. Everything he does and did to you feels so good. This is what you needed from him for months. 

“Okay so, next to us are five things. My necklace, my knife, a candle, your makeup brush and a leaf. You have to guess with which of the things I’m touching you. How does that sound?” 

“Fun. Really fun.”

“Yes?”

You nod your head, putting your hands above your head in a submissive squirm. Yoongi smiles, heart skipping a beat in giddiness. He would do anything for you. He really would.

“I knew that you would like it. Any of the things you don’t want me to touch you with? I guess most are soft, except the knife and wax. I won’t cut you and the wax will be hot, but not painful. Is it okay for you?” 

“Yes, really okay.” you writhe and sigh, parting your legs for nothing in particular. 

“Good, that’s good. You can stop this anytime you need to. Your voice matters, sweetest. Your safety does as well.”

You whimper in emotion, healing from deep wounds. This is exactly what you needed from Yoongi. This kind of care and love and safety. You were so scared that giving him another chance will end in your heartbreak, but instead he is proving to you how honest he was in his promises to change. 

“You’re important to me”, he kisses your cheek, “you’re so fucking important.”

“Yoongi”, your voice trembles as it leaves you. 

“Mhm, my sweet girl.” He kisses your ear softly and straightens up. He rubs his hands up and down your stomach gently. “Ready for the first item?” 

“Yes.” 

“Don’t be scared to guess wrong. There won’t be punishments, just rewards.”

“Rewards?” 

“Mhm, guess correctly and you’ll find out.”

“Okay”, you sigh. 

Yoongi climbs off your lap. You listen with bated breath. The sheets ruffle as he gets comfortable. Then sudden silence which he breaks in a soft rasp.

“Ready?” 

You nod your head.

“Use your voice, sweetest.”

“Yes, I’m ready”, you whisper cutely, sending his heart into overdrive. 

With a racing pulse, he lowers the brush to your collarbone.

“Oh”, you gasp with the first touch, chasing it. 

Yoongi lets your skin soak up the feelings, guiding the brush up to your shoulder and down your arm. He dances it over your chest, circling your nipples. Then he guides it up your other arm, over your shoulder and back to your collarbone. 

“What’s the first item?” he asks you in soft spoken voice, guiding the brush back to your nipples to circle them. He is obsessed with the way your body reacts. Goosebumps and swollen nipples. You are so beautiful with the most perfect reactions. 

“Feels nice.”

“Of course it does, but what is it?” he is chuckling his words, finding you beyond adorable.

“Uhm..”, you shudder as he tickles your neck with it, “brush?”

“Mhhm good girl”, Yoongi praises, placing the brush aside to get your reward. He turns it on.

You instantly move your head into the direction of the sound, gasping his name.

“Can you guess your reward?” Yoongi asks, guiding the vibrator down the inside of your thigh. 

You moan weakly, writhing on the sheets. You nod your head because you can’t talk. The vibrations feel so good and they’re coming close to where they feel otherworldly. You are so excited. 

“Do you want it?” 

“Please.” 

Yoongi takes your consent and connects the vibrator with your clit, rubbing circles on it. You wail up weakly, hands instantly reaching down to grab his wrist. Your legs close around him, but fall open a moment later, toes curling in the sheets.

“Is this nice for you?” he asks you, eyes flitting between your pussy and your face. They linger on your chest as well, soaking up the view of you writhing in pleasure.

“Nice”, you whimper, rolling your hips up into his touch.

“That’s good”, he says and then falls into comfortable silence with you. 

Not that the moment is truly silent. The pitter patter of rain enters the room. The low purr of the vibrator mixes with your quiet moans and breathy sighs. Yoongi’s own heightened breathing matches you. But there is no traffic, no loud neighbors, no emergency sirens or people cursing on the streets below. There is no city. No burden. Just you and him and nature. 

Yoongi knows from how quickly he brings you to the edge that you are truly enjoying the sex you are having. When he fucked in the past, trapped with you in his penthouse or your small apartment, you often struggled to reach climax. Sometimes you didn’t orgasm at all, no matter what Yoongi tried. And be certain that he tried. Your pleasure has always been important to him. He tried, you tried but the city had an awful grip on you, keeping you tense and nervous and too anxious to truly be in the moment. 

But not anymore. You gasp and tense in the way you always do when you are close. It happens so fast that Yoongi feels high. You are so into this, so relaxed. He is doing this to you. He is making you feel good. Yoongi wants to give you an orgasm, but knows not to rush it. If you climax, you should really enjoy it. You should crave it so violently that you have nothing else on your mind.

He takes away the vibrator, soothing your squirms with gentle touches.

“I was close”, you whine.

“I know sweets, I know”, he kisses your neck, “it’ll be worth it. I promise.”

“Oh god.”

He kisses your cheek and sits up, “next item. Guess whenever you are ready.” 

You wait with bated breath and an aching pussy. You really wanted this orgasm. Sheets ruffles, silence. The sensation. 

“Oh god”, you get out, arching your back to chase it. 

Something metal and tangly. It is cold and light. He guides it down your sternum and stomach, letting it tickle your belly button before he guides it up to your neck. 

“Chains…” you moan, writhing from the memories of feeling them hit your skin whenever he fucked you deep. 

“Good girl”, Yoongi praises, rewarding you by tangling them over your face. He makes sure that they hit your skin in the ways they sometimes do when he is buried inside you. 

You chase it, moaning his name.

“You’re thinking the same, right?” 

“Yes. Yoongi…”

“I fucking love being with you, my sweet girl”, he says, tickling your face one last time before he gives you your true reward. 

The vibrator. He keeps the same setting and the same spot, but rubs your stomach the entire time. Your moans are louder than before, your pussy so much wetter and your hips a lot more restless. 

It also takes you way less time for your orgasm to be close. Yoongi really draws out the moment he takes it away from you, keeping you on the edge until the last second.

“No please”, you beg, bucking your hips against nothing, “please.” 

“Patience, sweetie, patience. You still have three more items to go.”

“Please.” 

“Patience”, he whispers and lifts the third item, “time to guess. Focus on the sensations, not your pussy. Do it for me, sweetest.”

“Yoongi, oh god”, you whimper, almost spilling tears. 

“Take a deep breath for me.” 

You obey only to have it knocked out of you when sudden burning warmth hits the skin of your chest. You sob, arching your back and twisting the pillow edge. 

“Wax, aah”, you mewl, feeling dizzy. It is hot, but it’s not painful. Exactly how he promised. You still weren’t ready for how good it will feel. 

He starts at your sternum, leaving a puddle of it on your skin. Next he covers your breasts with it, your soft flesh first and your nipples last. You sob again when he covers them in the hot wax, pleasure soaking so deep into your fibers that you find it hard to breathe. 

“Good girl, correct again. Is it too hot?”

“No, feels so good. Yoongi please fuck me, please.”

“Patience, sweetie. First you need your reward.”

“Please…”

As the wax hardens on your chest, Yoongi presses the vibrator against your clit again, rubbing it up and down for a change. You mewl his name, digging your heels into the sheets and thrusting against the toy. Judging by how much your voice pitches, you are already close. 

Yoongi takes it away, pinning your hips down easily as they try to squirm.

“Please no more edging, please”, you beg in desperate croaks.

“Sorry sweetest, sorry”, he rasps, kissing your neck and jawline. “It’s soon over. I promise.”

“Yoongi please just fuck me, please.”

“Soon, sweet girl, soon. Two more items. I promise.” 

You mewl, squirming in agony. Yoongi sits up and gets the fourth item. He decides to guide it over your stomach and thighs. You instantly open them wider, skin covered in goosebumps.

“Your knife. Feels so good.”

“Good girl. Mhm your skin is so soft. I could cut it, mark it as mine, but I won’t”, he lulls, tracing the inside of your shaky thighs.

“Please do. I’m yours.”

“Another day. promise”, he says and picks up the vibrator. He puts the knife aside, using his unoccupied hand to pin down your squirming hips. 

He managed to edge you to a point of such sensitivity that he only has to keep the toy on you for a few seconds before your body tenses in your approaching high.

He takes it away, shushing you lovingly when you keen in agony. He lies down next to you, cradling you against his chest and kissing your cheek. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“I can’t do it anymore please”, you beg, “please I want to be with you, please.” 

“One more item, I pro-”

“No! Please. I want to be with you, please.”

Yoongi sighs in defeat.

“Okay. You can”, he gives in.

“Please I wanna see you, please Yoongi.”

“Okay, sweet girl”, he whispers, pulling the blindfold off your eyes. When you beg like this, he can’t say no. He has to fulfill your every wish.

You instantly look at him, spilling tears because of how happy the view of him makes you. 

He wipes your tears away, speaking to you in a soft voice.

“Why are you crying, my love? Is it getting too much for you? Should we take a break?” 

You shake your head and open your legs.

“Please. Be with me.” 

Yoongi smiles in order not to tear up. He hums a yes, nodding his head vigorously before dropping it against yours. His right hand cradles your cheek safely.

“I’ll always be with you, my love.” 

“Promise me.”

“I promise you”, he says and climbs between your legs.

You roll to your back, following him this way. He takes your hands and pins them in the pillow above your head, holding them tightly. 

“I'll always be with you.You have me”, he says and seals his promise by finally connecting with you. 

You and he moan together, hands squeezing the other’s and eyelids fluttering. Both of you refuse to close your eyes, wanting to see the other. 

“You have all of me, my sweetest girl”, he says and picks up a deep and gentle pace. “All of me, you’ve got all of me.”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, body shaking instantly. You spill tears, sobbing softly.

“Does it hurt? Are you getting tight again like you sometimes do?” 

“No, feels so good”, you sigh and place his right hand on your throat. 

Yoongi moans your name, hips stuttering in shock. 

“Please”, you beg and Yoongi knows what to do.

He applies pressure on your veins, watching the last piece of sanity disappear from your pretty eyes. You roll them back and moan. You moan in ways you haven’t moaned in too long. Quite frankly, Yoongi already forgot that he could help you make such noises. 

“You know I don’t believe in god, not with the kinda suffering the motherfucker allows to happen to innocents, but holy fucking god”, he gets out and picks up speed. Not too much. Just enough to make your back arch and your toes curl. 

He drops his forehead against yours, resting on his one elbow. His fingers are still holding your neck, feeling your pulse race uncontrollably.

“Holy fucking god, baby. Fucking god.”

You reach up with your free hand, twisting his hair. It feels so good. All of it feels so good. You don’t know what is happening to you. Sex hasn’t felt like this in so long. Can it really feel that good? Can you really be so without burdening thoughts?

“Don’t stop please.”

“Mhhm never. Gotta make you feel so fucking good.”

“Good. Yoongi. Ah!”

“Fuck I was such an idiot, fuck I forgot how alive I feel when I dedicate my all to you.” He thrusts into you deep and passionately. “I’m on a high, my sweet girl. You feel so good”, Yoongi gets out, letting you taste each word.

“Yoongi please.”

“Too much?”

“Please can I cum? Please.” 

“Fuck”, he curses and growls, kissing your nose softly afterwards. “Do you need more?” 

“No, just please. Soon.”

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetest. I’m right here. Your Yoongi’s right here. I’m not fucking leaving you again. I’m here.”

“I love you”, you sob and break. He didn’t even get to let go of your neck before you fell victim to your high. You simply feel way too good. There was no other way.

“I love you too. Ah, I’m-”, Yoongi’s voice breaks and turns into desperate whimpers as your intense high throws him over the edge as well. 

He makes sure to keep moving, so you could really enjoy yourself. And oh how you do. 

You are so lost in your pleasure that you pull him close enough that you manage to bite down on his shoulder. 

Yoongi mewls in pain, guiding your mouth away gently with the hand he once had around your throat. You instantly take his fingers inside your mouth, sucking them eagerly as you and he ride the waves of your shared highs. 

Once you and he come down, his fingers are messy from your drool and you seem so deeply satisfied that you can’t help but cry. 

Yoongi instantly cradles your face, kissing your tears away. 

“What’s the matter? Too tight?”

“No, I feel safe. Yoongi, I feel safe.”

“Oh.” 

You haven’t felt safe in so long. He knows that you don’t mean physically safe, but emotionally safe. 

He smiles and rolls to his side, taking you with him in his arms. He lets you cuddle into him and use his chest to get through your tears. 

Yoongi knows that you need this cry. He put you through so much and you went through twice as much on your own. Knowing that you can finally cry about it, is healing to him as well. 

Once you calmed down, you feel sleepy and cold. Yoongi cocoons you and him in the blanket, allowing you to rest your head on his arm while he traces your face. His head rests on a pillow which he folded up half to make it sturdier. You are looking up at him. He smells like him. Good, clean, masculine, familiar. He smells so calmingly familiar. 

“What are you thinking?” he whispers, tracing your brows and nose.

“Just that I’m happy.”

“You are?” 

“Very. I haven’t felt like this in ages.”

“I know. I…” he struggles with his words, gnawing on his lower lip.

You reach up and begin tracing his scar. He instantly knows that he is allowed to talk freely.

“I know you’ve been struggling with enjoying sex. I could beat myself because I know it’s partially my fault.”

You shake your head, “it was never your fault. You tried to make it good for me. I could see that you did. It was the only time I felt like you actually tried for me.”

He furrows his brows, “I’ve done so much wrong in my life and most I’ve done to you. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl.”

“Thank you. I know that you’ll be different from now on. That Us will be different again.”

“I will. We will. I fucking promise you. And I-”

“And you never break a promise. I know”, you interrupt him in a soft whisper.

Yoongi’s smiles, nodding his head. You giggle because it feels good to know him so well and be known in return.

“I felt so good today.”

“That’s good. That’s all I want when I’m with you like this.”

He brushes his thumb over your eyelid gently. You close your eyes with a smile, enjoying his tender touch for a moment.

Once it passes, you look up at him again.

“I’m scared of going back.”

“To the city?”

“Yes. I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. I’ll take care of it. I promise I’ll make your life happy again.”

“What do you mean?”

“You won’t have to return to the city if you don’t want to. I meant it when I said that I’ll fucking set it on fire if you want me to.”

“What about your job? The things you keep hidden from the law?” 

“I’ll take care of it. You won’t get hurt, I promise.” 

You cup his cheek, eliciting a shaky gasp from him. Your eyes widen as you stare deeply into his eyes.

“I’ll kill whoever needs to be gone. Just tell me.”

“Oh sweetest”, he kisses your forehead before cradling you against his chest, “don’t make such promises. I don’t want you to have to get your hands bloody.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’ll get my hands dirty, so you won’t have to. Now enough about the future, right now I wanna hold my woman and let her know I’m entirely here for her.”

“Good. I’m glad you are”, you say and melt into his strong embrace.

[bunnys-kisses]

some women don't want the bear

john 'soap' mactavish

cw: smut/pwp, predator/prey, cnc, roleplay/fantasy, forest sex, messy sex, unprotected sex, after care, gunplay, degrading language, dirty talk, (partially) clothed sex, pussy slapping, filth (!!!)

bunny says! reblogs, tags & comments feed the rabbit!

you never really thought about scotland having forests. you always imagined the rolling plains and large cows. not dense forests as you hastily ran pass trees and tried not to trip over roots.

your heart was racing, your breathing ragged. you needed to get away from the man in the woods. he had found you cabin for the week and had tried to get his way inside. the only way for you was out the door and into the forests before he could harm you.

"shit, shit, shit." you panted as you tried to get further into the forest, only getting more lost. you felt panic all of as you ended up in a clearing.

you wanted to scream for help, but no one would hear you. you were a lost little thing, all alone in the woods with a big scary man. a man who wanted to take you apart.

your knees felt weak as you looked around, the afternoon light shined through the thick foliage of the trees. you eventually crumbled to your knees like a dying deer when you heard the snap of a twig nearby. you quivered and whimpered when the heavy footsteps came closer.

you felt yourself be yanked by the hair and forced to look up at the man in front of you. you bottom lip wobbled, "please don't kill me, sir."

he chuckled and tapped his pistol to your nose, "cute. i don't like 'em dead, bonnie. i like 'em when they struggle." then pressed the gun to your lips, "c'mon. be a good little whore and suck. or i'll find another way to get this thing wet." his eyes cast down to your lap.

you carefully licked the gun and the intruders eyes were on you. his blue eyes gleamed like sapphires, full of danger. you never got his name as you continued to suck off his gun.

you prayed it wasn't loaded.

"pretty girl for me." he said, "bet you're popular with the boys at uni." he laughed before he used his other hand to comb his fingers through your hair, "don't worry about that. once i get my seed planted in ya, you'll be too tired to think about other boys while you're chasin' my boys around." he pinched your cheek, "hard to finish school when you're nursing one babe and pregnant with another." he chuckled.

you hated how hot it felt. it flooded your core and made your face hot all over. your heart raced as you continued to lick the weapon.

his words kept coming, "you, me and our little mission to repopulate that big cabin you were staying in. you were tempting me with that, one woman doesn't need that many rooms. you were hoping i'd come and give you an excuse to fill 'em up. better i come and seed that little cunt of yours before a big bear or something comes and does it instead.' he laughed at the improbability of that.

you looked up at him, your eyes gleamed in the afternoon light and it made the intruder's cock twitch in his pants. he patted your cheek a little harder than you liked before he wanted you to have the real thing.

he tossed the weapon to the side and pushed you down onto your back. he got on top of you and he could feel the heat of your core through those thin tights. he didn't give it much time before he ripped the cheap fabric at the crotch, followed by your panties ending up in tatters too at the seam.

"good hold you got there, bonnie." he purred, "a nice tight little cunt that i'm gonna enjoy ruining." he chuckled as he sank two thick fingers into your sweet puffy hole. he sank in like a hot knife cut butter, "oh, someone's a little whore, huh? do you let all the big scary men of the forest fuck you? or am i just special." he smiled with all teeth and you felt wetness grow between your legs.

he crowded your space, his weight on top of you kept your pinned. you weren't as strong or as big as him. he was muscular with a mohawk and a tattoo. you could already feel his length pressing against you through his jeans.

he was going to split you in half with that thing!

"ya want it, bonnie? do you want me to fuck you raw. ruin you for any other man so much so that another man could even breed you. get that pretty cunt addicted to my cum." he patted your pussy before he sank his fingers back into you, now using his thumb to play with your clit.

you sent electricity through you, you tried to find some support from the forest floor to get yourself out from under him. but there was no escaping him. you were going to be bred by this monster.

you wanted to hit him, but he was a bulk of solid muscle. you would break your hands before you made any dent in him. you laid there and kicked out your legs but you were pinned under him.

he took his fingers out of your slick pussy and licked your wetness off of them letting out a soft moan, you tasted so good. he said, "a wife's gotta taste good, even when heavy with bairn." then placed a broad hand on your stomach as he got his cock out of his blue jeans.

the birds chirped and the sun beamed down on you as you laid in the mess of leaves and twigs. you could feel the man's heavy gaze on you. you swallowed at the sight of his cock, it was thick. you swore his balls were heavy, ready for breeding.

he kept his hand on you as he guided his cock into your sweet, slick pussy. he groaned a little bit as he pushed into you. your pussy felt so good enough his cock.

he chuckled, "where have you been all my life?" his pace skipped pleasantries and soon he was bullying it deep into your womb, "a pretty little thing to breed and keep. you, me and a bunch of babies." he was so large compared to you, you couldn't fight him off. he looked like a military man, even if you could get out from under him, he would stalk you through the forest. he groaned, "you're so good for me, lettin' me use that sweet cunt of yours. i'll keep this little cunt." he patted it before he gave it a firm slap.

you panted and squirmed under him, a fruitless attempt as he fucked you with a fury that you couldn't find words for. his cock felt like it was in the back of your throat.

the harshness of his thrusts made your head spin as you gripped onto him and tried to get him off of you. but he wasn't going anywhere, he was too busy having his cock into you. he wasn't going anywhere until he was finished with you.

you were his now.

regardless the pleasure coursed through you and the pace made you hot all over. the feeling was overwhelming and you knew you wouldn't last long. you panted and moaned, your entire body was burning from the intense pleasure.

"please." you whimpered.

"what?" he asked, curious what you had to say.

"please don't kill me." you whimpered.

"no, no.. shh, shh. no way." he said, his voice overly sweet, "i would never. now c'mon, bonnie. cum for your husband." as he continued to thrust up against you cunt.

you then gripped onto the forest floor as best as you could and arched your back. you then climaxed. you felt your body betray you as your pussy clenched around him as you it all became too much. you felt like an animal being bred in the forest. "fuck." you gasped.

"so good. fuck, i'm gonna ruin that little pussy. don't worry, bonnie.

he spurted inside of you with a heavy grunt before he slowed to a stop. his heart hammered in his chest as he admired the sight of you. he gave you pussy a firm slap before he pulled out.

"good girl." and after that, the little roleplay ended. and the man you loved came back. he got you in his arms as he kissed at your face, you were still in a state of bliss as your orgasm still came through you.

johnny then picked the twigs out of your hair, he got his jacket around your shoulders. he may have gone a little over kill with ripping your leggings and panties. but you were safe with him now.

"did you like that?" he asked as he rubbed your shoulders before he helped you onto your shaky legs. he'd carry you if he had to, that what was what a husband did for his wife.

even if she wanted to have crazy, kinky forest sex during their honeymoon. but he'd have to admit, it did excite him too. using those skills of his to good use. so before he picked you up and brought you back to the cabin for some nice tea and food, he waited to give him a response.

you looked up at him, as if your cheek was scraped from the debris on the forest floor. your eyes gleamed, almost excitingly as you said, "can we do that again sometime?" <3

[juletheghoul]

if you are still taking requests for the general can we PLEASE see what would happen if reader were ever in danger or threatened or kidnapped? to see marcus’ reaction and him do whatever it takes to get them back?? and his reaction to when he does?? 😭😭 i’m shaking askingthis omg,,

You're so right for this nonny, you're practically in my head. I was working on a chapter of the General, and it's basically this so here we go!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, violence, attack on the villa - you are hurt and Marcus gets serious, hurt/comfort, creampie, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.8k

reblogs are appreciated

Prev chapter Masterlist series masterlist

-

Your fingers cramped, his tunic had been more damaged than you’d initially thought and what you’d imagined would only take a few minutes, had taken the better part of an hour. With his tunic mended, you used the small knife to cut the thread and blessedly stretched, wincing at the ache in your back from being hunched over. An odd feeling weighed down the pit of your stomach and it was hard to place until you realized how eerily quiet the house was. Not just the familiar quiet of night, but an all-encompassing hush that seemed to cover everything like a blanket. 

No crickets chirping, no night birds singing, even the breeze seemed to have stopped. An icy finger followed the line of your spine and when his dogs began barking loudly, it almost made you jump out of your skin. 

You ignored the unease in your stomach and reassured yourself, the hour had grown late, and all of the chores had been completed. All that was left to do was fill the water basin in his private chamber, as well as yours. The dogs still barked as you made your way through the peristyle, irritated that despite being well trained, they did not relent. It was unlike them to ignore a command from your dominus and with a frown you belatedly notice one of the house's guards lying prone. 

You gasped, rushing over to him to help him, hoping it was only the heat that had gotten to him. You turned him, struggling to reach his face when your hands felt something wet, and with a barely contained scream, you saw that he had been attacked, and had not survived. The realization hit you like a knife to the belly, there was someone in the house, someone intent on sending your Dominus to the underworld. 

Ice crawling through your veins and with your heart in your throat, you ran towards his chambers to warn him.

The halls were dark and quiet as you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, praying to Diana to bless you with swiftness, to Mars to bless Marcus’ sword, and to humbly beg Pluto to stay away. 

Diana did not listen, and a shadow caught you unawares in the dark hall outside his chamber, cutting off the scream before it left your mouth. Your vision blurred as the faceless hulk behind you all but lifted you by the throat, making you squirm in his grip until he pressed the sharp tip of his blade to your back. 

“Silence!” He hissed into your ear, pain radiating from your neck, and where his knife cut shallowly into the skin of your back. You tried to scream, to kick and struggle out of his grip but it was iron, and when he slammed you back against the wall the world turned on its head. You choked on the coughs stuck in your throat, vaguely making out the angry words he hissed in your face. 

“Where is he? Where does he keep the valuables?” The fight was going out of you, your eyes, felt like they were going to pop out of your head, and your hands had surely been weighed down with something. Warmth ran down your back. 

Your vision blurred and a sinking realization hit you. 

I am going to die here.

Everything faded for a moment before you fell, hard, onto the ground. Breathing in felt like swallowing fire, your body was so heavy, and you couldn’t be sure how much time passed before you took in the scene. The man that had attacked you was on the floor before you, his eyes open, but never to see anything again. 

“Are you hurt?” His voice is like a balm and it’s with frantic hands that you clutch at him where he’s crouched in front of you. 

“Dominus-”  Your voice comes out like gravel, your throat burning so much so, tears fill your eyes and he shakes his head, shushing you softly. 

“Quiet girl, do not speak if it pains you, simply nod, are you hurt anywhere but here?” His hand is wet with blood, but it touches your neck soft as silk. You nod your head as he helps you to stand, holding you close to his warmth, his eyes scan over all of you, frowning when he sees the blood seeping through the back of your tunic, and flowing down towards your ankle. 

“Let me see.” He lifts it, turning you in his grip and an angry sound fills his mouth. 

Your heart fills with something huge, something unknowable, unnamable. 

“Can you walk?” The strength in him rears its head, and he practically holds you up, you nod your head yes and he nods back once, pressing his bloody finger to his lip to keep you quiet before tucking you in behind him. He picks up his sword and slowly, you both make your way through his halls, hunting those who dared threaten him. He pokes his head around a corner and is confronted with a small group of his attendants, the older women, the toughest of them has a knife in her hand. 

“Hide yourselves, I will find you once the threat is removed. Go to the cellar and bar yourselves in.” He nods once and they obey, trusting him to protect those who are alive. You move to join them but his free hand holds you tight. “You stay with me, girl.”

You nod and hold onto his arm like an anchor. 

He finds them in his library, rifling through his things and for a moment your heart drops at the sight of them. There are four of them, and they turn in unison, dropping his parchments and smiling to see him alone, and worst of all, accompanied by an injured slave. 

Wordlessly they begin to circle and with your throat burning, you begin to pray once more. 

One of them advances too quickly and Marcus slices him from throat to groin without blinking. The blood splatters onto Marcus and then spreads from where the man falls on the floor and you feel as though you’re stuck in a nightmare. 

“I will give the rest of you the chance to keep your lives if you leave now.” 

“To what end? You’ve seen our faces, you will just come looking for us.” One of the braver ones spits it back in his face, looking to the others for support. They advance but he doesn’t let them close enough to hurt either of you. You see why he’s earned his reputation firsthand, and your brain rebels against itself. Part of you is terrified to see such violence outside the arena, in the place that is your home no less. Another part of you though, rejoices to see him fight for his house, for you. His sword moves swiftly, as fluid as water as he cuts his way through them with terrifying ease. 

He drips in their blood, unfeeling, unseeing, until there is one left on the ground, clutching at his wounds. 

“Mercy, I beg of you!” He holds his hands up, eyes shining with a fear you have never seen. 

“The time for mercy has passed.” He blocks your view, but you hear the sound of flesh parting, a sickening gurgling sound, and then silence. 

You stand there in the dark room, still as a statue until he blocks your vision again, his bloodied hands holding your face softly. He says nothing, only holds your gaze and you cannot help but press yourself close, gripping onto his arms if only to convince yourself that he is healthy and whole before you. 

Wordlessly, he leads you away from the gore of the room. He completes his circuit of the house, finding the guards that survived the attack as well as other attackers, none of them having survived their attempt. 

He thanks them for fulfilling their duty to protect and orders them to dispose of the gore corrupting his home. He orders them to find the others hidden away, to let them know the house is once again safe. Your hands tremble, but you cannot be sure if it’s from fear or from the way he has not let you go since this whole ordeal began. You look down as he speaks his commands, to see the way his hand sits on your hip, wrapped around you, pressing you close to his side. The blood on his hands has seeped into the fabric of your tunic, it is smeared all over your arms and your neck. You swallow and the pain is still there, and when you shift his hand tightens around you, pressing into the shallow cut and you wince. 

He feels the way you shy away from the pain, and promptly dismisses his guards, advising them that fresh water and linens are to be brought to him at once. 

“Come girl, let me tend to that.”

-

The shaking does not stop, neither does the feeling of ghostly fingers wrapping themselves around your neck. Neither does the pain. Your fingers itch to do something, but with your Dominus cleaning and bandaging your wound, you can do nothing but stand in front of him, and tremble like a leaf. 

He does his best to soothe, but his gentle touch and soft words can only do so much. There is anger in you, a sharp clawing desire to break something, to hurt those that hurt you, those that snuck into his house like rats to do naught but harm. If your throat didn’t hurt so much, you’d scream. His lips bring you back though, where they press to your back when he is done bandaging you up. 

You watch him, wild-eyed with the blood still pounding in your ears, and wonder how he can be so calm, cleansing the blood off his skin like he’s done it a thousand times. But hasn’t he? The reality of him becomes crystal clear, this was nothing to him. His eyes are focused on the task at hand, they move methodically, dipping into the water and scrubbing at his face, and his arms. He undresses to the skin and continues his ritual, only looking to you once he is satisfied with his state. 

“Come, girl, undress.” Your body falls into its usual rhythm, obedience. 

You strip, careful of the wound and your neck, and once nude, you walk over to him. Silently, he dips a new cloth and sets about his task. Your face is first, gently but thoroughly cleaned of every drop of blood. Your arms next, and then your neck. You wince, but stay still. Handprints that had seeped through and marked your hip, your back, all of them wiped away like they’d never been there. He crouches and follows the trail of your blood where it had slid down the swell of your ass, down the back of your leg towards your ankle. Not a drop is spared, and then he is done.

“Thank-” It's a harsh whisper that comes out of your mouth, and he doesn’t let you finish the sentiment.

“Do not speak, I would not have you in pain. Your throat must heal and the more you speak the longer it will take.” He pressed a soft kiss to your brow, but you held him close, cold all of a sudden as you stood there in his chamber, both of you bathed in moonlight and damp from the cloth. He lets you clutch to him, lets you press yourself into the cage of his arms, and wraps you up in them. He is the cure, you do not tremble when he holds you like this. 

An ache builds, the need for comfort, for warmth, for affection. For love, whispers a tiny little part of you, a part you ignore. 

You stand on the tips of your toes and press your lips to his, hoping he can sense what you need. 

“Are you not in pain?” His fingers curl around the long line of your neck, feather-soft, holding your gaze as you try to kiss him again. You nod, but try again anyway and he holds you still. You mouth the words, exaggerating the shapes of them in your mouth so he will understand. 

“I need you.”

He searches your eyes and is satisfied with what he finds, nodding once and then finally giving you his mouth, his tongue, and the loveliest of sounds from deep in his chest. 

You take charge and push him to sit on his bed, guiding him to lie on his back and he follows where you lead, arranges himself exactly how you want him, and lets you climb onto him. You straddle his waist, fitting his hardening cock between the lips of your sex. He bites his lip, eyes focused on the way you rock yourself along his length and despite giving you control of this encounter, his hands land heavy on your hips. His fingers dig in, sliding up to hold onto your breasts, both fingers pinching and stroking at the peaked tips of them in the way he knew you liked, the way he knew would turn your cunt into a fountain of arousal. 

“Use me, girl, do what you need, take your pleasure.” One hand stayed on your breast, the other went to his lips and he dipped his thumb into his mouth, wetting it before sliding it between where the head of his cock peeked out from between your legs and slipped it over your clit. A heavy sigh leaves your mouth, the pain in your throat mingling with the pleasure between your legs. 

You bend forward, pressing your mouth to his with an urgency that claws at your very being. The desperation isn’t just in you though, there’s something of the caged animal in Marcus, a tremble in his fingers when they dig into the meat of your hips that conveys an itch to take control. You need this now though, so with his tongue in your mouth, you lean forward and lift your hips enough to give your hand room to grasp the weeping head of him, and notch it at your soaked entrance. 

It’s almost too much, the way he fills you, the slick head of him almost too deep. His cock twitches and you cannot help but clench around him, your cunt flooding with waves and waves of arousal for him. His hands are charged like the air before a storm, roaming from your thighs, to your hips, up to thumb and strum at your nipples. Moans and whimpers slip out despite the pain in your throat. 

You roll your hips, the pressure against your clit radiates out and the pleasure builds. It makes you frantic, the slip of him inside made all the better with the way you soak his lap. You speed up, chasing the friction and the pleasure just there, despite the burn in your thighs and the sweat beading on your brow with the effort of your movements. 

“That’s it girl, fuck me-” Your stomach drops with the dark thrill of him letting you take, your nipples so sensitive under his thumbs, it’s almost painful. You want to go faster, but you’re losing steam, and you let out a sigh in frustration, pushing past the discomfort. 

“Come, let me give it to you.” His hands slip around your back, and he pulls you forward, so you lie onto his chest folded into his embrace. He wraps his arms around you, fully, holding your arms to your sides so you can do nothing but take, and then he gives. 

He plants his feet, and thrusts up hard, and fast enough to make your mouth fall open in a silent scream. 

“This is how you want it, hard, you want to feel this cock for days don’t you girl?” He grunts out the words, and despite the red, violent haze of his love, you cannot help but marvel at the strength in him. 

“Yes, please Dominus, don’t stop-” It comes out whispery, into the crook of his neck but he shudders all the same, and somehow, he fucks up into you harder. You turn to liquid in his arms, shuddering when the climax hits you hard as a punch to the gut. He lets out a guttural sound, but fucks you through it just the same, drawing out the orgasm until it takes him under. 

He comes hard, rope after rope of his release painting your insides. Hot and messy and it almost makes you purr like a cat.

He lets go, both of you breathing hard, and sticky with the sweat of exertion. 

“Give me a few minutes.” He breathes hard, while you press soft kisses, and kitten licks where the salt of him collects, “I will fuck you again, I am ravenous for you, girl.” His hands reach down, and grab at the meat of your ass and you smile. 

“Yes Dominus.” It doesn’t hurt as much as it did, and you’re sure that by morning, you’ll be right as rain. 

-

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[hanafubukki]

Can be seen as a part 2 to this fic (after some time has passed that is) or can be read as a stand-alone.

“Leave me alone human!”

“For someone who is chained to the ground and gravely injured, you’re pretty loud.”

“I’ll rip you from limb to limb.”

“Why don’t you get better first before we get there hmm?”

General Lilia Vanrouge screeched at you in the fae language, some of which you knew were curses. Ah yes, you can’t wait to make fun of your Lilia when you get back to your time. His cursing while playing video games had you easily recognizing some of them now.

Luckily for you and your ears, the General wore himself out. The wounds from the iron and those of the battles weakened him.

It didn’t help that he also had a fever as a result. You were put in this cell to help him recover. Humpty Dumpty- well, King Henrik, implied it was the least you could do.

A random human that was pick up by his men, who was using valuable resources that could go to his soldiers instead. Never mind the fact that you helped treat said soldiers and gather said resources.

The Knight of Dawn had clenched his fist, about to speak up on your behalf. But you simply grabbed his hand and shook your head. It wasn’t worth it. King Henrik would just make his life harder for talking back, and you didn’t want that. The Knight of Dawn dealt with enough, you didn’t want to add onto his troubles.

…But you also didn’t realize that meant staying locked up in this cell with General Lilia Vanrouge either.

The General wasn’t exactly happy when he first met you, and you couldn’t blame him. You just weren’t used to the open hatred from familiar eyes you would see everyday. Eyes that were always friendly to you, now burned you.

The first time you tried to provide him treatment, he had fought back until his wounds weakened him to an unconscious state. You had silently treated him then. Not a soul a witness to your tears.

As the weeks passed, the General gradually stopped fighting back, probably due to his weakening state…it didn’t shut his mouth though funny enough.

You were only let out for a change of clothes, a bath, a proper meal, and a bed to sleep in every few days. Even then, King Henrik made it seem as if that was too good for you.

You later found out it was due to the Knight of Dawn’s request that you were even allowed such accommodations. Your heart ached at the idea of what he must have gone through to get you this, as you knew King Henrik did not treat him well.

You breathed softly, you wished you could return home soon.

You were dressing a wound on Lilia when you felt him stir.

“Melea…Le…B…”

You took a wet cloth and wiped his forehead.

He must be dreaming about his family.

You knew all would be well in the future, but that didn’t mean current events didn’t affect you.

It hurt you to see so many struggle in a useless war, due to greed from one man.

Lilia clutched at his stomach, his sharp claw like nails reopening the wounds you had painstakingly bandaged.

You quickly grabbed his hands and sucked in a breath of pain. His nails dug into your skin, drawing blood. His grip could break your bones to tiny, incomprehensible pieces, but you held on.

You knew he wanted to be free and return home, to protect his loved ones. You were determined to heal him for that very reason.

“Damn it Lilia Vanrouge! You will get through this! You have so much to look forward to. So many people who love you! Now, stop being a prick and let me go so I can treat you!”

Surprisingly, he let you go. You ignored your bleeding, aching hands in order to reseal his wound.

“…will you be in that future?”

You froze, turning and looking into feverish eyes.

“Yes.”

General Lilia Vanrouge fell into a deep sleep for the next 10 days.

You were returning to Lilia’s cell when a knife was held to your neck.

“Human, where is the fae you captured?”

Ah, it seems rescue finally arrived for Lilia. It took them long enough.

You looked up into hardened, familiar eyes. Baul Zigvolt would have been a sight for sore eyes if he didn’t, you know, have a knife to your throat.

“I would gladly show you if you take that knife away.”

“You-”

“Besides, I was heading right in that direction. If you don’t want to be caught, you better hurry.”

You continued walking, listening to Baul grumble about frustrating humans. You couldn’t help the slight smile on your face as you remembered similar words said by his grandson.

You led Baul quickly and quietly to the cell that practically became a second home to you. No one in sight. You had noticed, unlike the men that the Knight of Dawn commanded, the men directly under King Henrik were…well, just like him: sleazy and lazy.

They let their guards down thinking The Right General of the Fae was too weak and couldn’t take any of them on. They even implied you were nothing but a sacrificial lamb should said Fae get angry, but of course, they would rescue you at a price.

It took you all you could not to spit in their faces or smash their heads on the wall. The self defense lessons Silver and Sebek taught you provided security that you would forever be grateful for.

It was due to this fatal thinking that Baul was able to infiltrate the base, as the men went to seek entertainment elsewhere.

When you arrived, you opened the cell door quietly so as to not hurt sensitive ears. The sun was high enough for the cell to be well lit.

You heard Baul hiss in anger before rushing to his general’s side. Lilia didn’t seem surprised to see him, telling you how he must have always known rescue would come for him.

“General!”

“Careful! You’ll-”

Baul recoiled from the burns the iron chains struck at him.

“I tried to warn you.” You shook your head. You sat next to Lilia, taking his hand in yours. From the corner of your eye, you could see Baul tense but Lilia motioned for him to remain calm.

You picked at the lock. Another thing to be thankful for, your lock picking skills, which you learned quickly from days you were locked outside of Ramshackle Dorm because Grim forgot the key or the door just wouldn’t open.

“You got it in one go this time.”

“I told you I had surprises up my sleeves. I just needed the right tools.”

“Hmm, so you say.”

Baul looked at both of you as if you both at grown two heads each. Lilia noticed his look and waved towards his feet. Where chains that should have been locked were open.

“Any longer, Baul, and I would have rescued myself.”

Baul stammered before apologizing. You turned away to hide your smile.

Within moments, the atmosphere changed. General Lilia Vanrouge had to escape and return to his men.

“Leave.”

“What?”

“You have to leave. You need to return to your troops."

Lilia clenched his jaw, looking at you. You couldn't return with him; you both knew that. It didn't stop him from trying, but you shook your head before he could even open his mouth.

"I can't go with you."

A human amongst the fae would not last long, at least not now. There was too much hatred.

You took the cuffs that had been his tormentor for so long and locked them around your hands. You chose to ignore the angry growl Lilia tried to hide at the sight of the cuffs now imprisoning you.

"I'll make it look like you escaped, now go."

"They'll hurt you."

You shook your head.

"The Knight of Dawn would never let that happen."

He knew you were right. The Knight of Dawn had visited several times, helping you treat his wounds and restrain him when the fever would have him lash out at you.

The Knight of Dawn had honor, as a fellow general and soldier, Lilia respected him for it. Lilia pulled one of his magic stones off his belt before offering it to you.

"Take this. Smash it to the ground if you need help, I'll find you."

You agreed and watched the two soldiers turn to leave. General Lilia Vanrouge hesitated before speaking, "You told me you would be in my future."

"I will be."

"You better keep that promise, YN."

"I will."

General Lilia Vanrouge and Baul Zigvolt vanished from your sight.

I'll see you both soon.

Part 3 (each part takes place after some time has passed) or can be read as a stand-alone.

Author’s Notes: I can’t believe this became a 1.5k fic, the way this bat fae drives me crazy. 😂💞🌺

[raekensluver]

nightfall temptations (1)

introduction, part one

description: breaking up with your boyfriend, ethan landry, was too easy. he was too understanding, and now you're discovering why.

pairing: dark!toxic!ex!ethan landry x fem!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, dubcon, slight knife play, name calling (whore), teasing (?), innocence/corruption kink, p in v, p in v from behind, squirting.

song rec: animals by maroon 5- "baby I'm preying on you tonight. hunt you down, eat you alive. just like animals"

w.c: 4.3k

an: sorry this took so long to get out!! this is not proofread!!

the cold steel of ethan's knife glinted in the moonlight, the sound of his voice, now raw and unfiltered, sends chills down your spine.

"you should have seen it coming," he says, his tone smug, "after all, i've been dropping hints everywhere."

your friends had always had a weird feeling about ethan, something they couldn't quite put their finger on. they'd whispered their concerns to you in the safety of your apartment, their eyes darting nervously towards the door as if he might overhear.

"he's just really into the genre," you'd assured them, "it's not like he's actually going to hurt me." but now, with the mask and the knife, their fears feel all too real.

his eyes, the only human part of his face visible through the thin fabric covering the holes in the mask, seem to bore into you.

"you look surprised," he says, his voice still distorted, "i thought you knew i was watching you." your mind reels as you try to process the betrayal.

you take a step to leave, but before you can even blink, his hand snatches you, his grip ironclad. your arm is yanked back, the phone flying from your hand and landing with a clatter on the damp cobblestone.

"going somewhere?" he asks, his tone deceptively light. you stumble, your legs refusing to move as his hand tightens around your wrist.

his touch is cold, the kind that feels like it could freeze the blood in your veins. you struggle, trying to pull away, but his strength is overwhelming. your eyes dart around the courtyard, searching for an escape, a weapon, anything that could help. the silence is deafening, only broken by the sound of your panicked breathing and the thundering of your heart in your ears.

his grip tightens, and you feel a sharp pain as his nails dig into your skin.

"let me go," you plead, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. but he just laughs, the sound echoing off the high walls like a cacophony of nightmares.

"not until you admit it," he says, "not until you admit that you're just like me."

you're frozen, unable to move, unable to think of anything but the cold steel of the knife that glints in the moonlight.

"like you?" you repeat, trying to buy time, trying to figure out what game he's playing.

"yes," he says, his voice low and menacing, "someone who enjoys the thrill of fear."

you bite your lip, tasting the coppery tang of your own blood. deep down, you know he's right. there's always been something about horror movies that's drawn you in, that's made your heart race and your adrenaline pump. but that's just it, you think, it's a movie. it's not real. you've never wanted to be the one running for their life.

"i'm not like you," you spit out, trying to convince yourself more than him.

but as you look into the cold, dead eyes of the ghostface mask, you feel a flicker of doubt. maybe there's a part of you that's thrilled by the danger, that's drawn to the edge of fear. maybe that's why you've been playing his twisted game for so long, hoping each time would be the last.

"prove it," he whispers, his breath hot on your neck. "scared, baby?"

his grip on your wrist is unrelenting, his knife now pressing against the soft skin of your throat. you swallow hard, feeling the cold steel against your pulse.

"no," you murmur, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "i'm not scared of you." but your racing heart gives you away.

summoning every ounce of courage, you bring your free hand up to the mask, your fingers trembling as they touch the smooth, cold surface. he flinches, but you don't stop. with one swift move, you yank the mask up and off his head. ethan's face is revealed, twisted into a grin that's more terrifying than the ghostface ever was.

his eyes, now wide with surprise and excitement, sparkle with a crazed glint.

"you didn't think i'd really hurt you, did you?" he laughs, but there's a manic edge to it that sends your stomach plummeting. your hand, still clutching the mask, falls to your side. you realize you've been holding your breath and gasp for air.

without warning, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. the warmth of his breath, the softness of his touch, it's all a stark contrast to the cold, hard knife still at your throat. you try to pull away, to look anywhere but at him, but his grip on your chin tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze. the kiss is… nice. unexpectedly tender, like the first time you kissed, before the world went mad.

"don't deny it," he whispers,"you love the rush, the thrill of the chase." his hand releases your chin and slides down to your neck, his thumb caressing the spot where your pulse beats wildly. "we're the same, you and i."

you stare into his eyes, searching for the person you thought you knew. but all you see is the madness lurking beneath the surface.

"i'm not like you," you say, trying to convince yourself as much as him. "i don't want this."

his smile widens, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly.

"you don't know what you want," he whispers, his voice low and seductive. "you crave the fear, the excitement." his hand slides up your arm, sending goosebumps down your spine. "we can have so much fun together, just like in the movies."

despite yourself, you feel your resolve waver. the memory of your first date at the horror film festival, the way you clung to him in the darkened theater, the way your heart raced with every scream. was it just the thrill of the movie, or was there something more sinister lurking in those moments? "

we could be unstoppable," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "the perfect couple, the one everyone talks about."

his hand moves from your wrist to your waist, pulling you closer.

"think about it," he says, his voice a sweet caress. "we could rule this city with fear, become legendary." his words are intoxicating, spinning a web of dark allure around you. for a fleeting second, you consider it. the power, the excitement, the rush of adrenaline. but then you remember the reality of his actions, the fear and pain he's inflicted on others.

you push back, trying to break free from his embrace.

"no," you say firmly, "i don't want that." but he doesn't let go, his grin never wavering.

"you're just scared," he murmurs, his breath warm on your neck. "scared of what you could become." his hand slides up to the back of your neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles, sending shivers down your spine.

his lips are on your skin now, kissing a trail down your neck, the cold air making you shiver. you can feel his excitement, his hunger for fear, for power, and for you.

"stop," you say, your voice shakier than you intend. his kisses are gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the knife that's still dangerously close to your throat.

his mouth reaches your collarbone, his breath warm against the coldness of the night. you struggle against him, but his grip is firm, his kisses growing more insistent, more possessive. you're torn between the fear and the strange thrill that's building inside of you. this isn't right, you think, but your body seems to be responding against your will.

he chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your skin as he whispers, "you had no idea how close i was, did you? all those nights you'd walk home from work, thinking you were alone. all those times you'd sit in your apartment, watching those movies, feeling so safe." his voice is a purr, his breath hot in your ear.

"i was always watching."

his lips move to the sensitive spot behind your ear, nibbling lightly, making you shiver.

"i'd sit outside, watching the lights flicker on and off, wondering what was making you smile, what was making you jump." his words are a seductive caress, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "you never knew i was there, baby, never knew that i was just a heartbeat away."

his hand slides up to cup your face, tilting it towards him. he kisses your cheek, your jaw, his teeth scraping gently against your skin. "every step you took, every breath you took, i was there," he whispers, his voice a soft serenade of terror. "i knew your routine better than you did."

his lips find yours again, his tongue probing, insistent. you can't help but gasp into the kiss, the fear and the exhilaration melding into something toxic yet tantalizing. his hands roam your body, his touch feather-light, but leaving a trail of fire wherever he goes. you know you should push him away, but there's something about his words, about the way he speaks of your fear as if it's a shared secret, that keeps you rooted in place.

his knife, cold and unforgiving, glides up your bare inner thigh, the fabric of your dress parting easily under its sharp edge. the sensation sends a shock through you, a mix of terror and arousal that you try to bury deep. "see?" he murmurs, "you love it. you're just like me." his voice is a siren's call, luring you closer to the edge of madness. "every gasp you make, it's like music to my ears."

you're trapped, both by his arms around you and by the sickening fascination his words stir in your soul. you know you should be disgusted, but instead, you're… intrigued. the thought of being part of something so twisted, so powerful, it's like a dark siren's call, beckoning you to embrace the chaos. "we could make them all scream," he whispers, his breath hot and hungry. "every last one of them."

his knife slides up further, grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sending a jolt of fear and something else through you. something primal, something that makes your stomach flip in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. his hand is now around your neck, his thumb stroking the pulse point, a silent reminder of the power he holds over you. "say it," he murmurs, "tell me you want it."

you lean into his touch, the knife forgotten against your skin. his grip on your waist tightens, his kisses growing more demanding. your mind swirls with images of the horrors you could inflict together, the power you'd wield. your heart races, not just with fear, but with something more primal, more exhilarating.

"yes," you murmur against his mouth, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

his grin widens, his eyes gleaming with victory.

"good girl," he purrs, his hand moving up to your face, stroking your cheek. "you're going to love this." his knife slides away, but you can still feel the coolness of the metal, the promise of pain and fear that lingers in the air. your hands come up to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his cloak, pulling him closer.

his other hand moves to the back of your neck, his grip firm, almost painful. "say it again," he whispers, his voice a mix of excitement and demand. "say you're mine." you stare into the darkness of his eyes, the mask lying forgotten at your feet. something within you snaps, a part of you that you didn't even know existed.

you lean in closer, your breath mingling with his.

"i'm yours," you murmur, the words like a dark vow. his grin widens, his eyes lighting up with a twisted joy. he pulls back slightly, the knife once again pressed against your throat, but the threat is now a promise.

"prove it," he says, his voice a seductive purr.

you kiss him, your lips meeting his with a fervor that surprises even you. his hand slides down your back, pulling you closer, his tongue dancing with yours in a deadly waltz of desire and dread. the knife is still there, a constant reminder of the danger, but it's almost forgotten as the heat between you builds. his hand moves to the zipper of your dress, tugging it down, the fabric parting to reveal your trembling body.

his kisses become more urgent, more possessive, as if he's trying to claim every part of you with his mouth. your hands roam his chest, feeling the fabric of his cloak, the cold steel of his knife still in his hand. you should be terrified, but instead, you're alive with a mix of emotions you've never felt before. his touch is like a brand, searing away your fears, leaving only the thrill of the unknown in its wake.

you help him pull off the cloak, the heavy fabric dropping to the ground with a thud. underneath, he's dressed in all black - a stark contrast to the polos and blue jeans he'd always worn when you were together. it's as if he's shed his old skin, revealing the monster he's become. but instead of repulsing you, it only fuels the fire within. you realize that you've always been drawn to the dark side of him, the side that watched horror movies with a glint in his eye that was more than just amusement.

his hands are on your hips, pulling you closer, his knife abandoned to the floor. there's no gentle touch or sweet whispers - just raw, animalistic need. you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the muscles in his arms tense as he pushes you towards the cold, wet brick wall of the alleyway. you gasp as the roughness of the stones digs into your skin, but the pain is only a distant echo compared to the desire that's consuming you. he's rough, urgent - a stark contrast to the tender, loving embraces you used to share.

his kisses are bruising, his teeth grazing your bottom lip until you taste blood. your heart is racing, the sound echoing in your ears louder than the distant sirens and the patter of rain on the pavement. your hands are in his hair, gripping tightly, as if you could hold onto the last shred of the person you once knew. but this isn't about holding onto the past - it's about letting go, about giving in to the darkness that's been building between you for so long.

the alleyway is slick with rainwater, the smell of damp earth and rotting garbage mixing with the heady scent of lust. ethan's body is hot and solid against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your skin as if he's trying to claim you once and for all. his hands slide under your shirt, the cold air making your skin pebble with goosebumps that have nothing to do with the chill. his tongue traces the line of your neck, leaving a wet trail as he works his way down, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. you moan, the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt, which you've pulled over his head in a frenzy.

his eyes are dark, the pupils dilated with desire. you look into them, searching for any trace of the boy you fell in love with, but all you see is a creature of the night - wild, hungry, and untamed. you know that you should be afraid, that this isn't what love is supposed to feel like, but you can't help the thrill that shoots through you as he pins you harder against the wall, his hips grinding into yours. it's as if he's marking you, branding you with the intensity of his need.

you can feel the cold brick against your back, the rainwater seeping through your clothes, but the heat between you is too intense to care. his hands are rough, but not painful, as they slip under the band of your pants, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is what it's like to be claimed by the devil himself. you push the thought aside, lost in the sensation of his touch, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers things that would make any sane person run. but you're not running. instead, you're leaning into him, urging him on.

his fingers find their way inside you, and you gasp, your body responding to his touch despite the chaos around you. the sound is swallowed by the city noise and the darkness, the only light coming from the occasional flicker of a distant streetlight. it's as if the world outside the alley has ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you and the storm of passion raging between you. he moves with purpose, his thumb pressing against your clit in a rhythm that has you bucking your hips against him, desperate for more.

his words are harsh, whispered taunts that cut through the sounds of the alley. "you like it, don't you?" he says, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "you like the way i treat you like a dirty little whore." his voice is low and guttural, a stark contrast to the sweet nothings he used to murmur into your ear. every word is a challenge, a declaration of his dominance over you in this twisted dance. and yet, you can't help but arch into his touch, a whimper escaping your lips as he hits just the right spot.

his hand tightens around your throat, not enough to choke but enough to make you feel his power, his control. "you want me to fuck you like the slut you are," he growls, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "tell me you want it, tell me you're mine to use." the words should repulse you, but instead, they make you wetter, make you want to scream out in agreement. his grip loosens just enough for you to whisper, "yes," a sound that seems to resonate through the night air, a declaration of your newfound subservience to his dark desires.

his other hand, still lodged inside your pants, slows its tempo, teasing you mercilessly. you whine, desperate for the release he's been building, but he pulls away, leaving you trembling and exposed. "beg for it," he commands, his voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. you bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, but the need is too much. "please," you murmur, the word barely audible over the rain. "please, ethan."

his eyes flare at the sound of his name, and with a feral grin, he yanks your pants down to your ankles, the fabric ripping under his grip. the cold air hits your bare skin, sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. you're left in nothing but your soaked panties, which are quickly torn away by his impatient hands. his eyes devour you, lingering on the wetness between your thighs, and you can't help but feel a twisted sense of pride that you can still turn him on like this.

his own pants are barely shifted down, his cock jutting out, thick and hard. the sight of him like this, raw and unrestrained, sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. you want him, even though you know you shouldn't. even though every fiber of your being screams that this is wrong, that you're not this person, not anymore. but the desire is too strong, the need too overwhelming.

he flips you over, your back to his chest, pressing you against the cold, wet wall. your top rides up, exposing your stomach to the chill, but his body heat quickly envelops you, making you feel anything but cold. your hands come up to brace against the bricks, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he kicks your legs apart. the muddy rainwater pools around your feet, the ground sticky with mud and grime, but you can't bring yourself to care.

his cock nudges against your entrance, and you arch your back, eager for the feel of him inside you. he chuckles, the sound dark and sinister, his breath hot on your neck. "so eager," he murmurs, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "you're going to take all of me, aren't you?" you nod frantically, the words caught in your throat.

you manage to find your voice, the words a desperate plea. "yes, ethan, please, i need you." it's a lie, but it's what he wants to hear, what will push him over the edge and give you the release you crave. his grip tightens, and with one sharp thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely. your eyes squeeze shut, and a strangled cry escapes your lips. the sensation is overwhelming, the pain mixing with pleasure in a toxic cocktail that has you gripping the wall for support.

he starts to move, each thrust punctuated by a grunt of satisfaction from deep within his chest. you can feel every inch of him, the way he stretches and fills you, the way your body clenches around him despite your mind screaming for it to stop. but your body has a mind of its own, betraying you with every pulse of pleasure. "you're so fucking tight," he murmurs, his voice a dark caress that sends shivers down your spine. "always so eager for me."

you want to talk back, to tell him that this isn't what you want, but the words won't come. instead, you whisper his name again, the only sound you can manage. "ethan," you gasp, your voice a plea that you're not sure he hears. but he seems to, his movements growing more urgent, his teeth grazing your ear as he whispers, "say it again, baby. say my name."

his hand is on your stomach, sliding up to cup your breast. the fabric of your shirt is soaked through, sticking to your skin, but it's no match for his strength. with one quick tug, he rips it away, the sound of the fabric tearing echoing through the alley. your tits are exposed to the cold air, your nipples tightening into hard points that he doesn't miss. his hand squeezes, his thumb rolling over the sensitive peak, sending a bolt of pleasure through you that's almost painful.

you say his name again, your voice a desperate whine. "ethan," you breathe, the word a prayer for release. his response is to drive into you harder, his hips slamming against your ass, the sound of skin on skin echoing off the alley walls. you can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to his brutal touch despite the horror of the situation. his hand moves down to your clit, rubbing it in harsh circles that have your legs shaking, your knees threatening to give out.

the sensation builds, a pressure that you know will shatter you, will leave you in pieces on the dirty ground. your eyes squeeze shut, trying to block out the sight of the grimy bricks, the smell of the rainwater and the garbage. but you can't block out the feeling of his cock inside you, the way he's claiming you, the way your body is betraying you. and then it hits, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave, your pussy clenching around him, your juices soaking his cock and running down your thighs.

his chuckles are low, deep in his throat, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. he's enjoying this, reveling in your degradation, and the knowledge only serves to make your climax more intense. "good girl," he praises, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. "you always were the best fuck i ever had." the words are a slap in the face, a reminder of what you've become, what he's turned you into. but even as the reality of it stings, you can't help the moan that escapes you, the way your body continues to respond to his touch.

his hand moves from your breast to your neck, his grip tightening slightly, reminding you of his control. you're his, and as much as you want to fight it, as much as you want to be free of this twisted mess, there's a part of you that craves it, that wants to be owned by him. with a few more deep, hard thrusts, he reaches his peak, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you. the warmth of his cum fills you, a stark contrast to the cold that's seeped into your bones, and you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction knowing you've given him what he wanted, what he's always taken from you.

his grip relaxes, his body going slack against yours, and for a moment, you think he's going to hold you, to whisper sweet nothings into your ear like he used to do after sex. but he doesn't. instead, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and used, the cold air hitting your sensitive flesh like a slap. you don't notice him leaving, the rain and the sound of his footsteps melding together into the background noise of the alley. it's only when he's gone that you realize what's happening, that he's leaving you here, in the dirt and grime, with your dignity in tatters.

slowly, you straighten, your legs wobbly and unsteady. the rain is coming down harder now, soaking through your torn clothes and mingling with your tears. you can't believe you let this happen, that you've sunk so low. but as the anger starts to build, so does the desire, a sick, twisted craving for more of his rough touch, more of his degrading words. you hate yourself for it, but you know you'd do it again if he asked.

taglist: @dreamzaremyrealityy @charvsz @buddhaslover14 @sxyves @r11k4 @jillgirlfriends

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Holding Us.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: You finally had a perfect date with the guy you like, you even kissed and everything seemed perfect. But suddenly he starts acting weird and you think you know this behavior.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: mentions of trauma, death, injuries. drugs and addictions!!! especially spencer's history with them. angst and also comfort???. spoilers for season 2. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Next time I'm probably going to write something that might be all fluff, but drama and angst are calling to me.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The taste of green tea, accompanied by ginger, entered your throat again and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Your reading glasses fogged up and you mentally cursed yourself for not remembering to take them off sooner. Your mind was elsewhere and the bandage on your right hand made it impossible for you to go about your business normally.

You settled into the jet seat and tried to ignore the pain you felt in your arms to continue reading normally and turn the page, but it was still impossible and not even your favorite hot drink worked as medicine. All the recent events were replaying in your mind like a movie, and being attacked by a serial killer on your first case after a long flu break was worthy of a dramatic script.

Fortunately, Spencer was your partner at the time and helped you just before the unsub could use his knife on you badly and end your life in the blink of an eye. You had cut your hand deeply in the middle of the struggle and Reid appeared to save you when you were lost, even with his few physical skills, he fought the man as best he could and shot him without even hesitating.

You didn't even get a chance to thank him because it all happened so fast and he'd been acting weird since you came back to work after your break. In the ambulance, he barely looked at you when the paramedic finished patching you up, asked if you were okay, and then went back to acting like you were a pest to be avoided at all costs. You kept wondering if you'd done something wrong, because just four weeks ago the two of you had the best date of your lives, even kissed, and now you weren't even acting like friends.

You began to wonder how much could have changed in a week. Everything was fine until you officially went back to work and tried to act normal. You got sick after the date, Spencer was a gentleman and brought you soup and flowers for days, even though he knew you wouldn't let him see you. And then, overnight, you found out that he'd been kidnapped in a case while you were away, and assumed that was why his constant messages and calls had stopped. You came back thinking that you could be a support to him after such a traumatic experience, but instead he avoided you.

“Is everything okay?” Hotch's voice startled you, almost causing you to drop your cup on the floor. He was sitting in front of you and you thought he was asleep like everyone else.

“Oh, you scared me.” You put your hand over your heart and put the teacup down on the table to look at him.

“You haven't answered my question.” He insisted, settling back in his seat and giving you a look that compelled you to tell him everything. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about what happened and how I didn't get a chance to thank Reid.” You admitted somewhat awkwardly, not wanting to make it obvious that your feelings went beyond friendship, although deep down you knew it was clear. “I've seen him acting strangely, I think he's avoiding me.”

“You should try to talk to him and ask him what's wrong. He saved your life today, that's not something you do by avoiding someone.” Your boss said in a reassuring tone, noticing your great nervousness about the subject. “I don't think he'll have a problem talking to you, and now he seems as thoughtful as you are.” He finished, pointing with his head.

You took the moment to look at Spencer and noticed that Hotchner was right. He looked as pensive and confused as you had been during the minutes you had all been traveling. He was frowning slightly, fiddling with his fingers and looking out the window, even though it was night and there wasn't much to see because of the darkness. You couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about you.

“I hope you're right.” You murmured, taking another sip of your tea and looking at the papers the man was going through. “Strauss will send me home after this, right?”

“You can't do much with your injured use hand, you need a few days.”

“I'm fine and my other hand is fine, I have not even had to take painkillers. I've got it under control.” You replied tiredly, trying to ignore the pain you felt by making a gesture. “Please don't send me home. I can't anymore, I have to work or I will go crazy.” You added, practically begging him.

“Don't get used to it.” He warned you in a serious tone before continuing. “But I'll talk to her and you stay out of it. You'll just profile and theorize until your hand is right. Nothing more than that and where my eyes see you.”

“You're the best boss in the world, really, I'll buy you a mug that says that.” You said, getting up from your seat and holding back the urge to hug him, knowing it was too much.

“Agent.” He called out to you in a serious tone before you could do anything. “Be careful and tell me if you are in pain...just don't tell anyone I intervened for you or I'll fire you.”

“Understood, sir.” You replied in the same formal tone before heading for the bathroom.

Something inside you knew it wasn't normal for the stitches in your hand to hurt so much, so you slipped into the plane's bathroom as quickly as you could, thankful that most of the team was asleep enough to notice your groans as you moved forward and closed the door behind you. You carefully removed the bandage, seeing that a few stitches had opened up, and pulled the painkillers you'd been given to ease the pain out of the bag, but before you could take any, a couple of knocks on the door made you jump and pray it wasn't your boss.

“Who is it?” You asked in confusion.

“It's me, Spencer.”

You didn't even have to think before you unlocked the door and yanked it open with your good hand.

“Do you want to come in? I was just leaving...” You started to babble as soon as your eyes met his and all the nervousness of a teenager in love appeared.

“I wanted to know if you were okay, I saw you come in complaining of pain.” He explained calmly, lowering his gaze to your hand and watching it with concern.

“Oh, don't worry. I'm fine.”

“May I check?” He asked cautiously, and you nodded a little nervously.

You went further into the bathroom so he could do the same, and he did, taking the back of your injured hand after washing his hands to make sure everything was okay. He touched you so gently that you almost forgot the pain you were in without even taking the painkillers.

“One of the stitches opened up, that's why it hurts. But it's not infected, so they should just sew it up and you'll be fine.” Spencer reassured you while you looked at him carefully.

Incredibly, this was the first time since your return that he had said more than one sentence to you, and he was less than a meter away from you. It made you feel like a fool to be mildly excited about it.

“And how are you? You were the hero who took the worst of it and saved my life.” You pointed as you watched him carefully apply a new bandage to your hand.

As soon as you asked, he pulled away and unconsciously put his hand to his stomach, where the unsub had elbowed him pretty hard in the middle of the struggle. “I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle.”

“Sure?”

He nodded and ran his fingers gently over his stomach, wincing as he tried to hide the pain. You always thought he wasn't very good at hiding things. As soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your worried face, he repeated that he was fine. You raised a skeptical eyebrow, not believing him for a second about his supposed well-being. You had spent enough time with him to know when he was hiding something, just by looking into his eyes.

“You're a terrible liar.” You said, looking at him with narrowed eyes while he repeatedly shook his head. “Then let me see.”

Spencer's eyes widened at your request, but the blush that appeared on his cheeks betrayed that there was more than embarrassment in his expression. He hesitated for a moment, but finally agreed, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this one. He slowly lifted his shirt, wincing as he did so, revealing the large red bruise on his stomach, just above his hip.

Your gaze fell on the large red bruise on his stomach and you gasped, covering your mouth in shock. It was much larger than you had expected and the color much more intense. You reached out tentatively and gently touched the bruised skin, causing him to flinch involuntarily.

“Are you in much pain?” You asked in a worried voice, trying to decipher his expression.

“It hurts a lot.” He nodded slowly, wincing as you touched the sensitive area, sending a shiver down his back. “But I'll be fine, really.”

“Okay.” You whispered, not knowing if it was time to move away from him or not. Not knowing what to do, you spoke again and didn't move. “I wanted to thank you for what you did, I haven't been able to before.”

He seemed surprised by your appreciation, and even more so when you stopped touching him and took a step back.

“I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said seriously, as if it were an oath.

You looked at him for a few seconds to make sure he meant it, and then you looked down at the ground. Something inside of you was screaming at you that this was the time to talk to him and put all your doubts on the table for him to resolve. You needed answers or you would go crazy, and maybe this was the time.

“Spencer.” You called out to him and waited for him to look at you to start talking. “I wanted to ask you what's wrong, if I did something or I don't know, apologize if it was like that, because it's terrible to see you avoiding me.” You began to speak quickly because you were nervous. “And if it's about the other night...our date and all that. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable and pushed you into something.”

“No, you didn't do anything.” He stopped you immediately and tried to touch your face to make you look into his eyes, but he couldn't because of a sudden pain in his stomach and he had to lean against the sink. “The date went well, very well. It was actually wonderful.”

“What's wrong with you, why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” You asked him. You asked him, taking a few steps toward him and noticing that his eyes were on the painkillers you had left on the sink. Then you noticed how dilated his pupils were. “Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need these?”

“I'm fine, I'm not acting out in any way.” He replied, completely ignoring your last question, but still with his eyes on the meds.

“Come on, I know you. I know there's something wrong with you, and you don't have to hide it.” You persisted, trying to understand what was happening to him. You could tell by his body language that he was tense and defensive.

“I said I'm fine.” He cut you off.

“No, you're not, I realized something is wrong.” You tried to approach him because of his erratic behavior. His hands had begun to shake and his fingers were inches from the box of painkillers. “You can trust me, I know you and I'm here for you.”

“You think you know me that well already?” His tone made you feel uncomfortable and invasive. You could tell he was bothered by your implications. “One date doesn't get you that far.”

Ouch, that was a low blow.

“I didn't say that, Spencer.” You said, trying not to sound defensive. You didn't want to start a fight when you were just worried about him. “I just want to help you.”

“I don't need your help.”

You were silent for several seconds, your eyes following his to the painkillers. “But you need these, don't you?”

The trembling of his hands intensified with your question, you could see his pupils seem to dilate even more at the sight of the drugs in your hands, and his breathing became irregular. He nodded several times after your question, desperate to get his hands on them.

“Since when?”

“What?” He asked confusedly as you took the painkillers from his hands.

“You know what I'm talking about.” You looked him straight in the eye with seriousness and much more concern than before. “I know an addict when I see one.”

Your words had hit him like a big bucket of cold water, freezing him in place. He barely blinked a few times before he spoke.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“We both know.” You took a few steps toward him and took his hands, stopping the trembling in them. “And that means you're not alone in this anymore.”

He could hardly believe what you said. His mind had convinced him that if you found out, you would yell at him, turn your back on him, or report him, and instead...you were comforting him?

Spencer felt unable to look at you, the guilt washed over him. He tried to pull away.

“You...I'm a drug addict, and you're not even mad?”

“I'm not one to judge you, but I am one to help you.”

His eyes widened slightly at your words. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He desperately wanted to protest, to tell you that he was hopeless and completely lost...but how could he? You seemed so determined to stand by his side and support him, even after learning such a painful and shameful truth.

“You won't...leave me?”

“I would never leave.” You gave him a small smile and felt him drop his head on your shoulder and relax. “It's going to be okay.”

Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a choked sob without pulling away. Your words had hit him at a low point, and the reality of the situation had come crashing down on him after he had tried to ignore it for so long. He slowly embraced you, feeling that he would collapse without your support.

“Everything will be fine.”

And you were so sure of it that you saw yourself in the mirror every day.

[timewillpasssoon]

hiii can you write a joost x female reader angst? they argue, he yells/says some mean stuff but it ends in fluff? 🫶

HOW COULD YOU?

pairing . Joost Klein x fem!reader

content . angst, the dutch in this is from google translate so if its bad lmk, mentions of yelling, insults, stress, alcohol, eurovision disqualification, fluff at the end

summary . when joost urges you to leave the house on a cold night, he starts to regret not opening up to you in the first place.

word count . 1.2k words , 6.5k characters

author's note . quick question, are y'all interested in nsfw? just wondering, if so send some ask.

You and Joost stood in the middle of the living room, tension crackling in the air, geting thicker and thicker as time passes by. His words cut through you like a knife, each one sharper than the last. For the past hour you've been trying to get Joost to eat and open up.. He would turn away and say he's not hungry. He'll say he's not hurting. He lies through his teeth, he was hungry and in pain, desperate need of help. So why doesn't he want it You? You tried to get him to open up to you, but you just couldn't. Everytime an attempt was made, he would slightly raise his voice.

Then finally, he yelled, his voice rising in frustration. Your eyes welled up with tears as you tried to hold back your own anger. "I'm your girlfriend, liefde! I'm here when you need someone to lean on!" You wanted to scream it out, yet it came out as a whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. He scoffed, his anger still beneath the surface.

"Well I don't need you! I am perfectly fine, there is nothing we need to talk about!"

"Can you atleast eat!?"

"For crying out loud I'm not hungry! Just stop being such a bitch."

The argument escalated, each word a dagger aimed at your heart. Joost's voice echoed off the walls, the last word hanging on your brain.

"You just don't get it, do you?" You looked at him in the eyes, rage and empathy were the only two things you could feel. "You clearly are in pain because of the disqualification! Just talk to me- we've been dating for 2 years, for crying out loud! Yet you still can't tell me your problems? Wat een man ben jij." (What a man you are.)

"You can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not!" Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to find what words to say.

"I thought we could work through this together." You uttered out, your voice trembling. Joost shook his head. "I don't know if we can," he admitted. He looked down, slowly then turning to the front door. "You should go."

You shake your head, words can't come out your mouth. Your tongue is tied together and you don't know if you can untie it. "Joost- please."

"I said get out. Ik wil je niet zien." (I don't want to see you.)

Your heart was throbbing so fast it felt louder than him,.Joost is staring at the front door then turns to you, red puffy eyes with baby tears coming out from both eyes. His blonde hair was a mess. It was covering most of his eyes but you can still see the pain in them.

"Prima." (Fine.) You take big steps yet they feel like your still miles away from your destination. You go to open the front door, "I hope you come to your senses."

Those were the last words he heard from you. Before you walked out. It's been two hours since you left his house...

and frankly, he's scared. He kicked you out in the middle of the night. It was eight pm when he demanded you to leave and with each second goes by, its past ten.

He calls you, he leaves voicemails, texts messages.

Still nothing. Checked social media and there was still nada.

God he felt awful, the worst boyfriend in the world. All of this happened because he didn't want to cry in your arms. He really did want to let loose, reveal that everything is not okay.

Yet he couldn't.

He didn't want to burden you with his problems anymore. Joost felt like he had too much baggage no one wanted to hear. He thought that everyone wants his happy-go-lucky side. You jusy wanted his true self. The Joost that is willing to tell you his feelings.

He decided to call one of your friends that happened to live by the neighborhood.

"Hello?"

"Is reader with you?"

The other line was quite crispy, Joost can hear a tv in the background, sounded like laughter in the back, maybe a comedy.

"No, why? Is everything alright?"

Joost sighed, fidgeting with a stand of hair. "No, me and her got into a fight and I made her leave- I haven't heard from her!" He exclaimed.

"Woah, woah, deep breaths." The friend on the line said, "Don't you have her location? Check if she's near the area, I'll stay on the line while you do that."

Joost quickly checked his phone to see if you turned off your location. You didn't, you forgot to. "She's in the nearest bar!" The friend hummed. "Go to her, she only drinks when she's stressed the hell out."

"Thank you so much," Joost happened to be crying again, quickly grabbing his keys and jacket. "No problem, get get her." The friend hung up on him as he raced to your location, being around eight minutes away if he ran the whole way.

He bolted as fast as he could, petrified about your safety. Where if you're black out drunk or not.

Pacing to the bar, precious seconds going by, he finally made it. it was one of the least popular bars near so there wasn't any hassle to get in. As he walked inside, he saw a women with the same color hair as you. Your head down on the table with around two shot glasses, there was three more earlier, the bartender just took them.

He sped-walked towards you, careful and still just incase you were still mad at him. He tapped you on your shoulder, but you didn't raise your head up.

"Ik heb een vriendje." (I have a boyfriend.) Was all you said. "I know." Joost calmly answered, his accent triggered you to lift your head up.

"Joost?" He nodded as he sat down next to you, his hand reaching for yours. You didn't push away his hand, as much as you wanted to, you knew he was in pain.

"Why are you here?" You softly say. You'll like to say you ignored him but you couldn't. You were certainly mad at him, but he had his reasons of sheltering himself away. So you listened instead of scolding.

"Reader, I'm so sorry- I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I feel like I just have too much going on for you to care." You felt destroyed at the thought of Joost think you don't care for him. Joost was rubbing circles on your palms.

He continued, "Can we go home, I would rather we talk there."

You smile at the chance of him opening up. You immediately say yes, standing up to leave. All your drinks were already paid for.

As the quiet, yet comfortable, walk back home he held you tight. Clinging onto your left arm for dear life. He still felt guilty for leaving you.

All alone in the streets. You told him it wasn't a big deal, that you could protect yourself. Yet the feeling guilt was still there, on his tongue. The taste was horrid.

Joost unlocked the door, letting you step inside first before closing the door behind him. That's where you engulfed him in a huge hug. Tears coming back for the fourth time.

That night ended with a deep conversation, with cuddles on the couch along with some ice cream half way eaten.

"I appreciate you having the courage to tell me all this."

You muttered your sentence out, about to knock out cold, your body longed for sleep but you kept awake for a bit while.

"I should thank you."

He smiled, tugging you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath breezing though the right side of your neck.

The warmth of each other's bodies made you two warm. You still weren't ready to give up on him.

You'll never give up on him.

LETSGOO FINISHED THIS IN 3 HOURS!! part 2 of let me think... is in the works don't worry, i have two other requests on the way as well.

im okay with nsfw requests, even if its a bit spicy or all the way. check out my other account!!

[leighsartworks216]

You Hate Me

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Sooooo I wrote this one morning when even just laying down had my knees hurting and I was like,, well what if Tav had that too? Also inspired by the fact I get to campus an hour early and still try to rush to the (empty) classroom instead of, ya know, taking advantage of the huge time buffer I give myself

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of joint pain, insecurity, crying, possibly OOC, clown mention

Word Count: 1,545

Masterlist

AO3

Just a bit further. A little further and then you could rest. If you make it to that tree - make it to that tree and you can sit down. Just a bit left to go.

It started almost a week ago. Unable to cope with all the traveling, your right knee started bothering you. With every step you could feel your kneecap shifting back and forth with a dull click. Then, it started to hurt. Nothing serious. If you walked slow enough, you could avoid it. But now every step sent shocks of pain up your entire leg. Your left knee joined the party this morning, removing any sense of relief you had while walking. Even sitting down didn't remove the pain, but you couldn't afford a day off.

Your companions noticed the changes, despite your best effort not to show any outward discomfort. You moved slower, the occasional grimace slipped through, they weren't traveling quite as far. You consider asking Shadowheart for anything that could ease the pain, but you already knew there was little she could do to help. So you grit your teeth and kept going.

Your foot stepped on uneven ground and you nearly dropped from the agony that shot through your whole body. Karlach worried you might actually just collapse. But you kept going.

Astarion couldn't bear it. None of them could - they hated seeing their intrepid leader fight their own body just to go a few more feet - but your struggle settled like a boulder in his stomach. Every time your face scrunched up, every hiss of your sharp inhales, felt like someone had stabbed a knife in his chest and was twisting it ever deeper. He hated the feeling.

With only a few long strides, he slipped from the back of the group to the front, walking alongside you. He had to change his normal gait just so he didn't surpass you. "Darling," he hummed quietly, just loud enough to keep the conversation between you two, "you should rest."

You shook your head. You didn't even spare him a glance. Your eyes didn't shift from the tree. "We're almost there," you dismiss. It's slightly breathless. Despite needing to walk slow to avoid the pain, you were pushing to go faster.

He tsked. "And how far do we still have left to go?" He tilted his head as he looked at you, already knowing whatever distance you said would be too far.

You nodded to a tree dead ahead. "Once we reach that birch, we can rest."

"That birch?" He pointed. "The birch tree that's nearly half a mile away?"

He could feel you bristle with his incredulous tone, but you didn't say anything.

He scoffed. "My dear, I can be stubborn at the best of times, but this is ridiculous! You're barely staying upright as it is."

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not," he sharply cuts you off. He grabs your arm and pulls you to a stop, holding you there with enough force that you wouldn't slip out and keep going. You refuse to look at him even now. "You're wincing, your hands have been clenched for the last mile, and you keep stumbling. The tree will still be there if you just sit down for a minute."

The rest of the party watches from a distance. Far enough away they can just make out what Astarion's saying, especially as his voice rises in pitch the more frustrated he gets.

Standing still hurts. It's hard to say if it hurts more or less than walking; it just hurts. Your face is pinched as sharp jolts run up through your joints, like someone is poking you with a sewing needle. Walking, you decide, must be better than this.

"It's not that far," you insist, voice low. "And when we get there, we can-"

"Gods above, you're impossible! Fine. Fine! You want to get to that tree, fine." He lets go of your arm.

Before you can even take a step, he's sweeping you into his arms, supporting you with one arm under your back and the other hooked under your knees. The pressure hurts for a moment, but it quickly fades away. The lingering aches are from pushing yourself too hard. He begins marching once more toward your end goal.

You want to shout, to demand he put you down. But when you look up at his face, his eyes are sharper than usual, lips pulled into a tight frown and crease forming between his eyebrows. He's angry.

He's angry with you.

The words die in your throat. You hate being so dependent. You were the leader - you needed to be strong and fearless and without weakness. To receive help feels like someone plunging their hand between your ribs and stealing away a chunk of your worth. But seeing Astarion upset, upset with you, that stings far worse.

You avoid looking over his shoulder. You could just imagine their faces. How Lae'zel would scowl at you for being weak. How Gale's face would turn somber when he realizes you're not as capable as he thought. You couldn't bear it. So you press your forehead to Astarion's neck and stare at your lap.

There's an unwelcome burn at the back of your eyes. Shame floods your chest and crawls up your throat until it chokes you. Water pools along your lower lids and blurs your vision. You can't walk and now you're going to cry. Just how fucking pathetic can you be?

Astarion's head shifts and you can tell he's trying to look down at you. He's trying to see your face. Because he can feel you shaking in his arms. He can hear your lungs quivering as your breaths become uneven and choppy. You press your closed eyes against his throat and he can feel the hot tears against his skin.

His frown softens, though you can't see it. He slows down to a stop and tells the others to go on ahead, to the birch tree just there, and start working on setting up camp, but all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. Their faces become fraught with worry; Karlach is the last to go. She still looks back once or twice. Astarion finds a suitable rock and he sits.

"Shh, sweet thing," he cooes, voice no louder than a whisper. His arm around your back pulls you into his shoulder, hand tangling in your hair as he cradles you. His other hand rubs soothing circles along your thigh. You gasp around a sob, body curling further into itself, into him, as you release your emotions. "It's alright."

You strangle out an apology. It's wet and croaky and painful.

"Whatever for?" he asks.

"You're mad at me," you whimper.

He huffs. The frustration from before rises in him again just thinking about it. "Yes, I am."

He feels your breath catch in your throat, and the heaving breath you take after. "You hate me."

Astarion laughs, short and sharp. "Why would I hate you, dear? Because you're too stubborn for your own good?" You don't have a response for him. He kisses your head, wherever he can reach. "I'm mad because you put yourself out trying to solve all of our issues, but the moment you have one of your own, you refuse any help. You're going to tear yourself apart."

He sighs and rests his cheek atop your head. His fingers rub the nape of your neck, gently tugging at the hair there. You carry so much tension, it's a wonder your muscles haven't locked up from the stress.

Time passes slowly in his arms. It seems to take forever before you start to calm down, and even longer before your eyes have dried. He does nothing to speed the process aside from gently hush you when you try to choke out apologies.

You sniffle quietly. Your eyes are raw, and you're all too aware of the stain of water you've left on the vampire's neck. When you speak, it's a painful creak in your vocal chords. "You don't hate me?"

He presses another kiss to your head. "No, love, I don't hate you. Not unless you've done something truly horrific, like invite a clown to show up at camp in the middle of the night." You chuckle weakly. It's such sweet music. "Gods forbid you start donating to charity." You laugh this time, and Astarion's chuckle vibrates against your ear.

His fingers detangle themselves from your hair with one last gentle tug, and his arm wraps around your back once more. As though you weigh no more than one of his pillows, he stands once more with you in his safe grasp, and begins heading for camp. He can see Karlach up ahead light up when she sees you're finally on your way.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I just feel so... useless, like this."

"Please, stop apologizing," he begs, dramatically. "Just say 'thank you' and we can move on."

You peel your face from his skin, dried tears sticking you together. You wince at how disgusting this must be for him. You lean up and kiss his cheek. He smiles at the affection. "Thank you."

Softer, he says, "Of course, my love."

[deadghosy]

WHAT ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK READER ?!

Hungry for some kidneys 😋🏃‍♀️

STOPPP CAUSE I HAD A CRUSH ON HIM- WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME BRO😭 I THOUGHT THIS MAN WAS SOOOO FINE🦆💗 which he still is 🤭😘

HAZBIN HOTEL X EYELESS JACK! READER

prompt: an eyeless man gets dared to go inside of a cartoon for some free “food”

Ben had dared you to go inside of this cartoon show that was becoming popular. You said hell no of course….but then he said the impossible…

“Would you either go in the cartoon for kidneys or listen to me tell you the whole script of the new movie.” Ben says with a knowing smirk at which one you would chose.

Never in your life have you jumped into a tv before so quick. But here you are as you stand in the middle of a red twin with dead bodies around. So you smile behind your blue mask and got to work.

You were so busy kidney hunting, you didn’t notice a tall red figure behind you smiling intrigued at how you were only looking for kidneys with your scalpel. You felt skinny hands touch your shoulders as you immediately tried to stab the hand quickly. But it was a wrong move because you got pushed by some green magic.

“Quick reflexes. Amazing my friend! You would do good for this hotel im helping” the man said as you stared at him. Before you could protest you got transported to a damn hotel.

NOW ENOUGH STORY MODE TYPE SHIT! NOW FOR THE FUN🔥

I imagine Angel one time seeing you use your tongues to eat a kidney that was in disguise and Angel had so many dirty jokes for you.

“Omg, I bet you’re a woman pleaser aren’t you?” Angel says suggestively as you just raise a brow at him not knowing what he is saying.

Charlie would try to get you to wear brighter colors, but you literally deny it as if you are still stuck in your emo phase making Charlie get war flashbacks to her own emo phase.

Imagine taking your bluemask off and scaring sir Pentious into thinking you are a ghost to steal his eyes😭 so evil but so funny.

I can see husk literally side eyeing you as you just eating. Like he is just so confused how you don’t bite on none of your other tongues.

I know some people draw ej with black fingernails, but what if Angel had painted them for you instead 💗

Imagine a cartoony moment where Angel is like “ah shit I lost my wallet..” and STARTS TO LOOK FOR IT IN YOUR EYES 😭 straight up digging his hands in ya eyeless holes to look for it and he actually did find it with a smile saying “ah Hah found it!”

Legit Angel will remind you of Ben as Angel will shove his phone in your face saying some dumb shit like. “Do you see it? Do you see it ? Do you see it?” As he has a stupid smirk on his face. You snapped grabbing Angel by his throat as the crew tried to pull you off of Angel as he struggles to breathe. “It was worth it…”

I headcannon EJ! Reader and Alastor being compatible friends because they both eat from human meat. But both different as EJ! Reader just eats the kidneys as Alastor eats the whole things

NAH IMAGINE KID EJ!READER GETTING THE LEFTOVER KIDNEYS FROM PARENT! ALASTOR’S PLATE😭💗💗 (so damn cute)

“No no, you use the little fork and the knife to cut it.” “….I literally eat with my hands.”

Just two hungry boys staring at each other while discussing flavors to make out of people.

The egg boiz likes to bring you dead sinners as you had promised them to read them bed time stories for kidneys..I mean a fair trade is a fair trade. 🦆

Idk but for me it makes sense for EJ! Reader to bite someone’s hand while sleeping cause in the fanon! slender house they are use to pranks being pulled off so many times.

Literally husk was trying to wake you up cause it was your duty to do the bar tendering and you ALMOST bit his whole hand off if it wasn’t for Husk’s scream.

I can see Lucifer trying to show you his ducks because he found how amusing how quiet and blunt you are as he practically shoved a duck in your face forgetting you don’t have eyes.

“Do you see how cute and amazing this is?! It’s a duck that can do the splits while shooting fire!” “I see.” *awkward silence* “I’m so sorry-” “sorry for what.”

I can see how your dynamic with Lucifer is like “I think I forgot something x I have it in my hand..”

Charlie once had you in red as you actually just stood there while she took photos of you. It was like you were ready for the first day of school as Charlie squealed happy to see her new staff wearing red.

“SMILEE!” Charlie say excited as you just stand there trying to smile but it came out strained showing all of your sharp teeth. “Yeah don’t ever smile again.” Angel said in the background as you jumped at him like foxy in fnaf 2 😭

I imagine you just standing there as Alastor puts his arm on your shoulder like an arm rest. Literally you are “😐 what?” face as Alastor is obviously “😄 what a lovely day!”

I can see you and niffty just playing random games during break time as husk just cleans glasses at the bar. It’s a relaxing sight for once without you trying to get someone’s kidney.

I imagine you and Adam having so much beef as he is annoying asf to you.

“Why are you eyeless? So you can’t see how ugly you are?” “No, so I can’t see how fat you basically are so it won’t affect me.”

THE WAY YOU GAGGED HIM- 😭🤭‼️

I can see the Vee’s trying to get you on their side but you would probably just flip them off as you eat a kidney.

I can imagine Vaggie trying to find out why there is black goo on the hotel stairs to find you are crying since Charlie banned you to scalpel anyone’s kidneys.

Vaggie and Charlie give you the angel dust treatment and try to find any scalpels you have in your room

I can see after the battle of the heaven and hell, you would just stand there like “🧍🏾what the fuck just happened..” as you try to scalpel a few angels only for vaggie to pull your blue hoodie away from one.

When Lucifer first met you, he thought you was a teen demon who just got hired. He wasn’t wrong for the hired part, when you first spoke that man thought he heard god himself as his eyes were wide at you.

I can headcannon Alastor bringing a sinner to your door with a note that say, “eat well <3” and you just stand there like….. “did I just get adopted by a cannibal..” you said picking up the unconscious sinner and grabbing a scalpel.

NAH CAUSE I USE TO BE FERAL FOR THIS MANNNN😨😭😭💗💗 HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!🦆‼️