#i underestimated how fucked the dark urge would get

[artlyloser]

My other bg3 Tav named Quinn! They are innocent they promise!!

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Because I adore the elementary series ; I’m curious if there will be more drabbles about their first baby & the cute moments like the birth, first shots, first everything; smiles, first mom insecurities, etc.

My apologies if you are not taking any requests of the sort! 🫢

The Firsts

pairing: elementary!joel miller x f!reader

rating: M (talks of labor from a person who’s never given birth so bare with me, talks of shots/needles, first-time mother highs and lows, joel being the husband of our dreams)

wc: no clue but probably around 2-3k?

a/n: sorry this took so long @jennfromthebayarea !! this semester’s been a bitch, but i’m trying to find the spark to write again so bare with me if this is a pile of shit 🫶🏼

elementary masterlist

| The First Delivery |

Though you were well warned and made aware of the pain caused by childbirth, nothing compared to the reality of a contraction, or the searing pain of pushing a baby through your fucking vagina.

Even Joel seemed to have underestimated what birth would be like, his face pale and sweaty as he stood at your side, allowing you to squeeze his hand so hard he was sure it was broken.

“You’re doin’ so good, baby,” he cooed, wiping the sweat that gathered on your forehead away with a damp cloth. “Can already see her head.”

“Fuck this,” you cried, tossing your head back into the pillow you brought from home, your eyes clamped shut as you pushed again, hoping that this one would be the last.

“Doin’ so good,” he murmured against your hairline as he pressed a kiss there. “Just a few more pushes, baby.”

“I’m getting the epidural next time,” you panted, taking a second of rest to gather your strength.

“Next time?” he grinned, but you didn’t reply as you started to push again, hard enough to get her shoulders out. “Hardest part’s over, baby. Soon she’s gonna be cryin’ her eyes out in your arms.”

“Can’t wait,” you groaned, your head rolling back against the pillows. “This better be the last one.”

“Go on, then,” he urged with a smile. “Gimme our new babygirl.”

Though it felt like the next few minutes took hours to pass, your entire body screaming at you from overexertion, none of the pain seemed to matter or register the second that the room filled with your daughter’s gargled little cries. Joel let out a choked sound, something between pure joy and disbelief, as he left your side to cradle your messy newborn in his arms. Neither of you were capable of listening to the nurses or doctor’s congratulations as he carefully lowered your bundled up daughter to your chest, her screams music to your ears just because it meant that she was finally here.

She was real, made up of equal parts you and Joel. His dark hair and your kind eyes, his curved nose and your lips. The epitome of love come to life.

“Oh, babygirl,” Joel cooed, a tear rolling down his cheek. “You sure put up a fight on the way out.”

You laughed, something exhausted and yet so full of love and joy and relief.

“I can’t believe…” You shook your head, allowing your tears and emotions a moment to breathe before turning your glossy eyes to your husband. “We made her. Isn’t that insane?”

“I think we did a pretty good job,” he chuckled, lifting a thumb to wipe a rolling tear from your face. “Got all her fingers and toes. Looks like you, not like me. I’d say she’s perfect.”

You gave him a loving pout, rolling your eyes before turning back to your slightly calmer daughter in time for the nurses to take her away for a little clean up.

“How long ‘til she’s back?” Joel asked, his eyes fixed on his daughter as they laid her in her cart.

“Just a minute,” the nurse assured with a smile.

“I still have to push out the—“

“God, forgot about all that,” Joel winced, resuming his seat beside the head of the hospital bed, his hand finding yours. “You know how proud I am, baby? How much I love you?”

“How about you remind me,” you grinned, eyes batting with exhaustion. Joel leaned over, his lips ghosting against yours.

“So fuckin’ proud,” he murmured in between kisses. “And so fuckin’ in love with my wife. Mother of my girls. Fuckin’ everything to me, baby. Everything.”

| The First Shot |

“How long are we supposed t’wait?” Joel groaned, adjusting his posture in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the pediatrician’s waiting room. You grabbed his wrist, lifting the face of his watch up to read the time. “How long we been here?”

“An hour,” you sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall as you let your dry, tired eyes rest for a moment while Iris took a nap in her car seat on the floor in front of the two of you.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he cautioned, reaching his hand over to lay flat on the top of your denim-covered thigh, his touch warm and soothing even in all your irritability. “Y’know they’re gonna call us as soon—“

“Miller family?” the nurse called from the door leading to the patient rooms. With a rub of your eyes, you stood up along with Joel who, thankfully, already had Iris’ car seat handled. The nurse smiled at the three of you in a way that looked trained rather than genuine, but given your exhaustion and annoyance at having to be out in the world doing real people things with a newborn, you might just be extra critical. “Hi, come on back, guys.”

“S’about time,” Joel muttered under his breath, seemingly just as cranky and desperate to get home as you. “Any reason it took an hour for us to get called back?”

“Just a hectic day, I do apologize,” she offered, though once again…trained. Leading you down a hall, she pointed at a room with an open door on the right. “Right through here.”

Joel was even more tense than you as the two of you watched the nurse take your diaper clad newborn’s vitals before handing her back, Joel’s hands quick to take her into his arms.

“Fuckin’ cold in here,” he murmured as the nurse left the two of you with the assurance that the doctor would be right in. “Baby girl’s probably freezin’.”

“She’s behaving at least,” you said, reaching over to place her blanket over her as Joel kept her cradled in his arms. “No tears yet.”

“Until the needles come out,” he snarked.

“Just because you faint every time a needle comes near you—“

The sound of quick, sure knocks cut you off as the doctor walked in. “Miller family?”

“Yep,” you offered her a smile.

“Alright, and this must be Iris,” she said, walking over to Joel. “May I?”

Joel looked tempted to tell her to fuck off but conceded, handing Iris over.

“She’s a cutie, isn’t she?” she asked as she rested Iris on the examination table.

“All from her mama,” Joel added, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Well, her stats are looking great,” she said, pressing her stethoscope to Iris’s chest. “Only thing left to do is give her some shots, and I’m gonna need one of your help for that.”

“Joel,” you nudged him, not entirely confident in your ability to keep your daughter still in the middle of a potential tantrum.

“I’ll faint,” he said, no humor in his voice. “You gotta.”

“Fine,” you sighed, nerves coursing through you as the doctor walked Iris over to you. “How many shots?”

“Three today,” she said as she and the nurse set up the needles.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking deep calming breaths while Joel chose to close his eyes altogether as the doctor walked over with the first needle. “Alright, baby girl. Don’t hate me.”

“Just a quick pinch,” the doctor said as she injected the shot into Iris’s right thigh, the so-called “quick pinch” tearing a wail from your daughters chest.

“Oh, baby,” you frowned, holding her tight as she screamed her lungs out. “Just two more.”

The crying didn’t end until the three of you were seated in the car, the color drained from your faces as you all recovered in silence.

“Next time, I’m leavin’ the room for the shots,” Joel said, turning the key in the ignition.

“I feel so bad,” you frowned, leaning your head back against the headrest to listen to your daughters sniffles. “Poor baby.”

“Fuckin’ doctors,” Joel grumbled, shaking his head. “Makin’ babies cry.”

“Absolute sickos,” you agreed with a chuckle.

| The First Steps |

“Baby!” Joel’s yell was almost enough to get you to drop the sudsy plate in your hand as you washed the dishes. You quickly set the plate down and wiped your hands off on the dish towel hanging off the oven door before hustling out to the backyard where Joel, Sarah, and Iris were.

“What happened?” you asked in a panic, finding Joel half-crouched over with his back turned to you.

“Look,” he smiled over his shoulder before nudging his head to call you over. You hesitantly approached, rounding his frame until you saw what had him smiling so hard.

“She’s standing!” Sarah announced, squatting in front of her little sister while she held onto two of Joel’s fingers for balance.

“Stay,” you ordered the three of them before sprinting inside to grab your camera. When you returned to the patio, however, you almost forgot what you’d set out to do as Iris, guided by Joel’s clunky steps behind her, waddled and stumbled towards you. “Damn it, I don’t want to cry.”

Joel laughed, “Take the damn picture, baby.”

You sniffled away your tears and held the camera up, watching through the viewfinder as Joel leaned down to blow a raspberry against Iris’s cheek, making her laugh. You clicked the camera a couple times, determined to get a good photo unlike all of your previous attempts at documenting her growth—closed eyes, frozen frames of her right before she turned herself red with a tantrum, dribble flooding down her chin.

“Jesus, I’m getting this framed,” you cooed, frowning adoringly at the picture. “She looks so much like you when she smiles, Joel.”

“Poor girl,” Sarah teased, walking up to you to look at the picture. “She is a cutie, though. Especially when she’s not covered in barf or drool or snot or—“

“Like you were any different?” Joel teased her right back as he scooped Iris into his arms to settle her on his hip. “Had to get rid of half my shirts back in the day ‘cause someone wouldn’t stop pukin’ on me.”

“I probably did you a favor given your fashion sense,” she returned with a flip of her curls.

“Okay, you two,” you chuckled, handing Sarah the camera before reaching for your daughter. “You interrupted my chores so now they belong to you. I’m gonna go cuddle with my precious little—“ A whiff of something familiar hit you the second you hugged Iris closer. “Oof. More like my stinky little girl.”

“You’re takin’ diaper duty over dishes?” Joel asked, arching his brow.

“You’re right,” you said, handing your daughter back to him. “You’ve been doing it longer than me, I’m sure you’re better at—“

“Load of shit,” he laughed, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Sarah’s got the dishes. You go sit down and think of some new ways to manipulate me into changing her diapers. Material’s gettin’ stale.”

| The First Day |

“Joel,” you sniffled as you started on Iris’s hair for her first day of preschool. “I can’t drop her off. I’m gonna have a breakdown and then she’s gonna have a breakdown and then I’m just going to cave and bring her home. You have to go do it.”

“Baby,” he laughed, his voice still coarse from sleep as he leaned in the doorway of Iris’s bedroom with a cup of coffee in hand. “S’gonna be fine.”

“No, it’s not,” you returned, more snippy than you’d intended. “I’m already a blubbering mess.”

“Mama,” Iris frowned, turning in your lap to stare at the tears sliding down your cheeks. “S’okay. Don’ cry.”

“Mama’s alright, baby,” Joel intervened, setting his coffee on the dresser before coming over to sit on her twin mattress beside the two of you, his arm wrapping around your waist. “You’re excited to go to school, ain’t ya?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, flashing a toothy smile. “Sissy said it’s not scary, so I’m not scared.”

“Good, there’s no reason to be,” he smiled at her before turning to you. “See? She’s good, baby.”

“But I’m not,” you managed through a whisper. Joel frowned and reached over to wipe your cheek free of your tears. “Can you please just come with me? I know you’ve got work but—“

“I’ll call Tommy n’ let him know,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “How ‘bout you go take a second to yourself and I’ll finish up here? Sound good?”

You gave him the sort of smile that screamed appreciation and undying devotion, one that was reserved just for him. “I love you.”

Joel placed a kiss on your shoulder and scooped your five year old out of your lap and onto his. “We love you more, mama. Don’t we?”

“Mmhm,” Iris grinned. “More than the whole wide world.

“Don’t get me started again,” you chuckled, wiping a few fresh, happier tears from your waterline. “Alright. Pig tails, she said.”

“What’s that? A lopsided ponytail? Comin’ right up.”

[survivalist-anon]

Log 21: The Devil in the Cave

50 years ago, 1974 in Guadalajara Mexico, a young and troubled Gustavo Mateo, has narrowly escaped the authorities but the rest of his gang.

A drug trade that had failed due to an undercover agent amongst them. On a high-speed chase down the highway and off to the desert near the mountain range, it was a miracle considering how far they've driven... If only it'd be a miracle if they had lost the FBI.

As the bullets continued ringing out, Gustavo had to think fast.

"I'm heading to the foot mountains! There's a cave system there where we can hide until the gringos are off of us!", Gustavo (age 19) shouted to his two last members. He drove as fast as possible into a tight side pocket of the mountain, where he had just luckily disappeared from the line of sight of the car.

He and his cohorts had slowly driven inside of the wide gaping mouth of the cave turning off the lights immediately as soon as they were deep enough in. "oh mierda! The tire tracks!", one of his colleagues had coughed.

They're only chance of escape now may have been dashed due to the short-sighted thinking and the underestimation of his plan.

"Come out with your hands up! Gustavo Mateo! Jose Salvador! And Pablo Montenegro! You're all under the arrest under jurisdiction of the FBI and the FDA!", for United States FBI agents had come out of an old Plymouth Fury sedan. The clicking of their firearms echoed in the cave opening.

They could see that Gustavo's car had entered the cave, they weren't sure however how many others were in there or what was inside the cave. But they're only worry was arresting them on the charges of drug trafficking.

"Mateo, tu burro! I told you to relax and stand still! If you hadn't shut that gringo! Then what I just taken the information and left!", his superior and gang boss, Pablo Montenegro, stopped him hard in the back of the head.

Gustavo has been in Montenegro's gang since he was a teenager, and he was always treated like as if he was still under initiation. "lo lamento, Pablo, but we would have been arrested anyway! You want to go to federal prison peacefully?! Hell no!", suddenly a burning urge to lay a fist on Pablo's face suddenly emanated from the very belly of a soul.

This wasn't the normal influx of rage he had felt throughout his life, but something far more darker. He fought the urge and one against it.

Suddenly, there was a deafening silence.

Like as if the Earth hushed itself for what was next to come.

A low, guttural roar slowly but surely bellowed out through the mouth of the cave as if the Earth itself was asserting itself from its depths.

I was loud enough to Shadow the glass of both cars, and send fear down everyone's spine.

"What the fuck was that?!", one of the federal agents had urinated himself in fear. The other three had put away their firearms and decided to bring out heavier weaponry, one of them got into the trunk getting grenades and other non-government issued weapons that they had illegally brought in with them. "Jesus Christ Jack! How the hell did you get those here?!", the same agent question in horror.

"Just in case if we some more of these hombres had an army.", Agent Jack responded.

But as soon as he picked up one more weapon, there was a sudden soft rumble.

One of the agents had felt this rumble, and then another, and then another.

He looked to the inside of the car and saw that his coffee was trembling. With each rumble following suit. "What the....".

Gustavo, his boss and Jose or deep already inside the cave with the unfortunate pleasure of greeting what was coming from the depths of the cave.

At first it was too dark for any of them to see what was coming from the back of the cave, but with each rumble of its footsteps, came a low guttural growl, echoing.

In the dark, they could see glowing red eyes and the silhouette of something monstrous. With a little light that's the late afternoon had left behind, the silhouette was highlighted with sharp jagged edges, shined with brass embellishments, and a towering figure not too dissimilar to the devil himself.

They would have been far more fortunate if it was the devil.

The monstrous figure lumbered over, curious to the strange object that had invaded his home, none of the men inside the car dared shine a light on it, and fear that it would be enraged.

Shaking and sweating, all three of them men could only speculate that this was a demon that had emanated from the Earth itself. Had this creature come to punish them for their sins?

The figure just stared deeply at all three of the men, then was interrupted when a gunshot had rang and hit one of its large crests.

It did not seem hurt, but it had felt disrespected. His wrestle gaze had turned to the origin to the shot.

"GOD DAMN IT MADISON! I TOLD YOU NOT TO SHOOT YET!", one of the federal officers had screamed at the other from the opening of the cave.

The figure to then decided to confront the Intruders out in the entrance of his cave. From the mouth of the cave the officers could see the same glowing pair of crimson eyes, nearly towering over them.

By this point the light of the afternoon had shun more than just small details, but the whole gruesome picture.

A horrific metal man, with blood crimson armor, adorned with sharp spikes with brass edges, jagged metal rods sticking out from his arms and back, and furious bloodshot eyes. He stood there silently, staring hatefully at the officers.

There was that upsetting calm silence again.

From inside the cave, Gustavo and the rest could hear blood curling screams, the bending and crushing of metal, continuous gunshots and each scream ceasing after a few seconds from each other. Everything went quiet after what felt like an eternity, what was only a few seconds.

The three men couldn't do anything, they stayed silently inside they're old car. Shaking in fear as if they were children once again.

The lumbering figure went back inside, frustrated, but satisfied that he had gotten rid of unwanted guests. Seemingly almost forgetting Gustavo and the other two. He glanced over at their car once more. But this time, although horrific and eerie stare, it felt more apathetic. As if his bloodlust was satisfied for that very moment. Lumbered over back to the depths of the cave, leaving the three men alone.

After what was roughly 3 hours, Gustavo turned on the car, breaking the silence of the three men who had just seemingly saw the devil kill for FBI agents. He slowly reversed back out through the cave entrance, as they slowly exited, they could see what the mysterious red metal man had left behind.

There was barely anything left of them, just mangled messes of men. One officer's head was bashed into his rib cage to the point it had split open, the other had been torn in half and crushed, the other had the car door slammed on to him, and the last had been twisted in a terrible way.

The car itself in comparison to the rest of them was relatively untouched, with the exception of the windows all destroyed, the trunk still open with agent Jack's weapons still inside and the car door being torn off.

Gustavo could feel the tears roll down from his eyes witnessing the scene. All three men had driven back to the city into the local bar. Where they stayed for hours trying forget what had they witnessed.

Pablo had drunk the most, saying nothing about the event, Jose could not stop sobbing to the bar tender's request, Gustavo....could not stop thinking about the entity.

Was it the devil who had saved them? If it was, why spare them? The questions in Gustavo's mins where buzzing like flies on roadkill. Ringing in his ears.

As the three men sat at their stools, a frantic and worried mother suddenly comes through the door.

"GUSTAVO! GUSTAVO MI HIJO WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!", she slapped in the face and buried him in a strong, shaking hug, worried sick if her only son was to be thrown into a foreign prison. "YOUR FATHER AND I HAVE BEEN WORRIED SICK!", she was sobbing, just happy to see her boy was somewhat safe.

Jose(26), mildly still crying, "Señora Mateo can I have a hug?".

She stopped for a few seconds and invited him to her hug. "Oh come here Jose.", the scene was heartfelt as much as it was heartbreaking. "Where have you boys been, everyone at home thought you were dead!", she hugged them as if she would never let go.

Pablo, who had been ignored this whole time, ".....we saw the devil, Señora....he's fucking real....", taking another swig of his liquor.

Señora Mateo stared daggers at Pablo, if you weren't for him, her beloved Gustavo would never have to have resorted to such a life to support them. "He should have taken you!".

Pablo was staring at his shot glass, "hehe, who knew that the devil...also hated gringos?", he turned to her with an evil stare. "I say....we ask him for a favor...."

Gustavo lifted his head from the safety of his mother's embrace, "We're not going back there. He left us alone because we didn't shoot at him."

Señora Mateo was horrified, "oh please mi hijo no!".

Slamming his fist on the bar, "Get the others! We will have the feds off our backs for good...and Guadalajara....will be free of corruption."

"Jose talk some sense into him!", Gustavo pleaded. "Did you see what that thing did to those men!".

Jose was just as reluctant as Gustavo to agree to this, "m-maybe, we...can get the pastor to help?", with that statement Jose had sealed both of their fates.

"And get Martinez too! I bet the devil would like some carne.....", Pablo stares at Gustavo. "You better watch your tongue....pequeña mierda irrespetuosa", he left his payment and left Gustavo, his mother and Jose.

"Mama, please forgive me, I-", his mother lifted her hand to him.

"Mi hijto, you...and I are going to the church right now.", sniffling through her tears, "if I can't help you, God will ....you too Jose.".

Later that afternoon, just before the church was about to close, the local pastor was told the whole story by Pablo, and had prepared the gang of 30 or so members to visit what they assumed was the devil.

Nearing midnight, the gangs come to the mountain cave, all of which were equally horrified to see that the entity had still left the bodies, now currently being feasted on by vultures.

Pablo, armed with 30 men, several guns, a live pig, and several liters of holy water. To confront....or convert the entity.

"¡Demonio! I have come to make an offering! As gratitude for sparing our lives!!!", Pablo had set up everything to look like some occult offering. Something about him changed, from that strange second he laid eyes on the entity, he had simply lost his mind.

Gustavo and Jose were far more lucid, scared that this monster was simply going to strike them next.

There was a sickly silence once more, then came the rumbling of footsteps. There was no loud and thunderous roar like earlier this afternoon, just a low guttural growl.

The light from the headlights of each car were shining on the opening of the mountain cave, The entity and stayed just and the corner, trying to escape the line of sights of the gang.

Gustavo could tell that the entity did not like light, "Hey! Shut some of the lights off!", he calmly shouting at some of those nearest to their driver's seats.

"YOU shut up!", Pablo shouted at him. The growling was a decibel louder, and Pablo had begun to shake.

The live pig had panicked, squealing it's head off. It had somehow escaped its restraints and headed straight into the cave and a panic.

Wheeling could be heard all the way deep down into the cave, it did not stop until it was far away inside. Passing by the entity entirely.

Pablo was dumbfounded that they're only offering had just ran inside the cave. "TU PENDEJO!".

The feral growling was getting more aggressive The entity have now grown enough confidence to show himself even further. Coated in now dried blood.

"shut off the lights! It doesn't like the lights and it only makes him angry!", Gustavo warned the men.

The gang had begun to weigh in on what should have been done, some of the members have turned off most of the headlights, leaving only one on.

Pablo by this point was frustrated.

The entity had slowly begun to walk towards Pablo, thundering to the gang leader, was no defiantly standing in front of his cave entrance.

The creature stook a good 3 feet above Pablo, who already was a relatively tall man. Glaring at him, not even needing to size him up.

He was doing it for show.

Pablo looked up at him, maddened by his sheer size alone. He fell backwards and stumbled back on to his feet, running behind one of his cars.

Gustavo was just as equally terrified, but with the little light one of the headlights had given. He could tell that something was significantly different about this thing.

It was tall, horrifying and looked like it had birth to itself from the bottles of hell itself.

But his stare was full of pain, filled with apathetic sadness. In a very strange sense, he looked almost tired.

The entity turned his head to Gustavo, staring him right into his soul. He lifted his heavy feet, and stomped towards Gustavo. The other members had stumbled away from Gustavo, practically abandoning him with the entity.

He was more than dwarfed by the entity, it loomed over him....it's bloodshot eyes piercing right through him.

Gustavo couldn't move, the longer he stared back, the more a grading and grinding voice had leaked into his soul.

"bloooood.....for.....the.....blood god....", The voice loomed inside Gustavo's brain. He could see a dark giant, he could hear the screams and roars millions of corrupted souls from that second.

Gustavo was shaking uncontrollably as if he was going through a convulsion, he had recited his prayers over and over again, until all he could hear was his own prayers. Has the voice continued fighting and further and further, he had fought back with full strength of a soul.

With one final push against the intrusive evil, he let out his own battle cry, "rrraaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHhhhhh". He had almost tore his throat open with such a cry.

Gustavo, had somehow......

Beaten Khorne.

The crimson entity was taken a back by such resistance. He even stepped back a little, impressed with this young human's spiritual strength. He gave a crooked, sharp toothed grin.

"You.... banished him...", the entity growled. "I....can no longer....hear him.", you looked up at the stars, his bloodshot eyes cleaned a little.

The other members of the gang were both mystified and scared, what did Gustavo do?

Pablo with a shaking gun, motioned to Gustavo come back, "LETS GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!", by this point emotion to the rest of his gang too quickly get out of there without invoking the wrath of this thing anymore.

Gustavo snapped out of it, he looked up at the entity and his horrific grin.

He nodded to him, turning around and running to one of the cars.

As the cars sped up, leaving behind the haunting figure, Gustavo looked back at him, he was looking back, watching the cars speed into the night.

The next day, early in the morning, Gustavo had woken up violently from memories that weren't his. Vivid visions of battlefields, bloodshed and friendly sparring amongst what can only be assumed as brothers. Covered in sweat and still in his clothes from last night. He could see that his mother had been sitting beside him, holding the cross in her hand, like we praying for him.

It was than he remembered how...and why...he was spared that night. He quietly and quickly gathered snacks, water and drinks.... Just before him had opened the door, you glanced over to a drawer in the living room, opening it up and he saw one of the Bibles his family had kept over the past few years. It was a strange urge to bring it, there would be no real practical reason for it, but instinctually gonna he feel that there could be some use for it.

You drove up again to the cave, this time seeing the horrific entity, sitting on a rock they opening the cave practically sunbathing, oddly enough with the same pig from last night and which he had kept alive this whole time. He was just sitting there contemplating, with the pig on his lap like a lap dog.

"...what the?", he decided to park a decent distance away from the cave, respecting the entities boundaries. He's slowly gone out and saw that the entity had greeted him with the simple turn of his head, he said nothing and just waited for him to come near.

"I can smell, the gun oil on you. I do not desire to hurt you....or at least....I do not want to change my mind.", he rumbled. Even with this threatening voice, the pig had not struggled or felt uncomfortable.

Gustavo had stopped, shocked that he knew he was armed. So, he had no choice but to bring the snacks and drink to him. "A... proper offering...amigo.", he had hesitantly called him.

It was clear the entity had no idea what that Ward meant to him yet, but he could feel that it was a good word...."a-migo?", he grumbled.

"y-yes, it means... friend.", Gustavo explained.

Gustavo can also say that the pig was relatively comfortable in spite of the hard armor, looked at him was mild apathy and went back to sleeping in the nice warm lap of the terrify man.

"w-what is your name...?", Gustavo asked.

The entity stood there, pensively thinking about his answer, "Sarek....", he muttered.

"......ugh..... would you like a different name? One that better suits you?", he muttered back.

The entity was taking it back a little, surprised that anyone would offer something is so strange as a second name for him. "....a different name?....", he responded.

"yes.....this morning, I couldn't help but feel that one of us has changed. Maybe one more so than the other, but I know that something deep down the side is telling me to give you a different name. One that will clean your soul. If you have one.", Gustavo had never been religious, not even when he would go to church with his family. Yet, meeting this, Sarek, had given him a new perspective.

"Would you like the name..... Alejandro?", it may have sounded random, but this was the name his grandfather would have given him if he were still alive.

The entity thought long and hard about this, never in his entire life was he given something as peculiar as a different name before, "....yes....Alehandrio.", he mispronounced a little.

The awkward silence was broken a little by Gustavo with a small friendly chuckle, "I'm going to have to teach you Spanish aren't I?", the strange and surrealistic feeling that he had just made friends with some demon, who has openly accepted his invitation for friendship without asking for anything so much as blood sacrifice.

What a strange situation, he thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

50 years later, on the same date, 2024. Las Vegas, in a secret underground fighting ring.

The strange friendship continues, between a man and his 'devil'.

As Señor Mateo box down the welded metal halls of the facility, he enters a room where it closely more resembled a living space fit for a celebrity, with a few humble things about it. They're sitting on the couch with a few other members of his bodyguards, playing a video game with them as if they were siblings.

Alejandro 'El Nino' Mateo sat amongst his 'siblings' and 'cousins', no longer adorned with the Blood stained armor he had once wore for the glory of a blood god, but now a glittering, blue, red and white luchador outfit fit for his gargantuan size. His mask covering predominantly the front of his face, custom fit to avoid the butcher's nails on his skull in which through some strange occurrence, I'm barely affected him ever since he entered our world.

Now only strange and immovable objects, permanently stuck to his head as a cruel reminder of his past, seemingly no longer hurt him.

His scars have healed, his rage controllable, his soul now his alone and his no longer plagued by rage and bloodthirst.

"I see you are enjoying yourself, how are you my old friend.", Gustavo smiled, giving Alejandro a hardy pat on his shoulder.

The reformed World Eater turned around, smiling his sharp toothy grin. "Hola viejo amigo, I heard tonight, I'm going to have some fun. Aren't I?", he chuckled.

One of the bodyguards, his 'cousin' Armando, nudged his rib, "Ha! Yeah man! Last night this guy was trying to bust out of his restraints!".

"Ah yes....the toro. That one you will not have too much problems mijo.....there is...one...I was surprised.....you had never told me....some of these Astartes.... could use magic?", Gustavo asked with concern.

Alejandro turned around looking at him, he pause the game real quick, "magic? What had one of them do to you Gustavo?", his calm demeanor had gone on guard.

But the reassuring pat to his shoulder, Gustavo gave him a soft smile, "no no, they had not done anything to me. However, my mind was read like a book by one of them.....it had started me for a short time.", he could see his world eater gearing himself up to fight.

"....put him in the ring last...... I want to obliterate him in your honor. No one disrespects my amigo and lives.", she let out a heavy blast of hot air from his nose.

Gustavo was pleased, 50 years he was successful as a member of the cartel, he was successful at protecting his hometown of Guadalajara, all thanks to Alejandro.

For tonight, it was their 50th anniversary. Celebrating all these years of friendship.....and power.

End of Log 21

@kit-williams @barn-anon @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @walking-natural-disaster @starfrost740 @squishyowl @sleepyfan-blog @lawnchair86

[pengychan]

[Baldur's Gate III] Hell to Pay, Ch. 5

Illustration by @raphaels-little-beast

Title: Hell to Pay Summary: Assassinating an archdevil is a daunting task, even for the heroes of Baldur’s Gate. Some inside help from ‘the devil they know’ would be good, if not for the detail their last meeting ended with said devil dead in his own home. Or did it? Characters: Raphael, the Dark Urge, Astarion, Haarlep, Halsin, Karlach, Wyll. Rating: M Status: In progress

All chapters will be tagged as ‘hell to pay’ on my blog. Also on Ao3.

*** Wyll's bad luck continues as he comes looking for help and finds a headache instead. At least this one is not tadpole-related. Small mercies and all that. ***

“Oh Gods, you were right! I could kiss you - without teeth, I mean. And I will in a minute, fear not. Now keep still, I’ll be gentle…”

“... Am I interrupting something?”

Durge’s baffled words - what were the odds they’d walk into someone having a moment twice in a row? - caused two faces to lift up and look at them. One being that of a very familiar cave bear, the other being Astarion’s, his chin smeared with blood the way it usually only got when he was really enjoying the meal. He grinned.

“Love! Halsin just had a bloody brilliant idea!”

“Bloody’s the word I was thinking of, yes.”

“Don’t underestimate the brilliant part of it. You know what I told you, how the blood of thinking creatures is far more nutritious and better tasting than animal blood? But there’s only so much blood you can drain from a human - or a dragonborn, or an elf - before things go south. So I thought--”

A snort.

“Right, yes, no need to raise your hackles. Halsin thought, what about a creature that is a thinking being, but in the form of a large animal with lots of blood to part from?”

“Ah, that is a good idea. Going by the look of your face, it worked.”

“That’s why I said it’s a bloody brilliant idea, did you miss that bit? Halsin, think I can have juuust a little more? A cup’s worth, maybe?”

A huffing sound that they had learned to take for a chuckle, and Halsin simply leaned back his head to expose the neck. True to his word, Astarion only took a few more gulps before pulling away, wiping his chin. “Ah, that’s so much better. Thank you kindly,” he said, and gave Halsin a brief scratch between the ears. A soft huff, and Halsin yawned, clearly ready to rest while his ursine form recovered fully from the blood loss. Astarion stood and went to the door, a spring in his step. 

“I’ll take down more than a deer tonight, that’s for sure. I’m thinking of a couple of boars, so we can have a proper feast. Are you coming with me?”

Truth be told, Durge suspected they’d be of absolutely no use on the hunt. Since their arrival Astarion had been up in the evenings and then of course through the night; Durge had tried to spend as much time as possible with him, but between checking on Raphael, fulfilling his promise to Halsin to tell some stories to the cartloads of orphans he’d taken in, and generally spending time with old allies, they were awake much of the day too. Which made them very, very sleep deprived.

‘Maybe I should sleep’ was probably the correct thing to say, but they couldn’t bring themself to. So they took their crossbow, downed an Elixir of Darkvision, and off they went. 

With somewhat predictable results. 

“Hah! A perfect shot if I say so myself! One down, one more to-- did you just fall asleep on your feet?”

“Bwuh?”

“On second thought, no need to answer.”

Durge groaned, rubbing their forehead and blinking their eyes open. They had technically fallen asleep leaning against a tree, but didn’t remark on that. Their sleep pattern had been really fucked up lately. It was much easier when it was just the two of them, traveling at night and sleeping through the day. “Sorry,” they mumbled instead, following Astarion to the prey.

A chuckle. “For missing my absolutely flawless shot? Of course you should be, but it’s no big deal. The night is young, and you may very well get another chance to see it. I’d appreciate some cheering if that happens.” Astarion let out a hum, pulling the arrow out of the boar’s neck. As he’d boasted, it was a perfectly placed shot.

“No, not just for that.”

“For not noticing my new doublet?”

“Not, not for-- you have a new doublet?”

“Hmph. You never notice a thing, do you. Good thing I didn’t waste gold on that really nice underwear I saw the other day.”

“I still fail to see the point of it.”

“Of course you do.”

“If we get far enough for me to see it, odds are it won’t stay on much longer.”

“My dear, the finer arts of seduction are wasted on you,” Astarion declared, as though that wasn’t precisely what had thrown him off when he’d first tried to seduce them, and what he’d grown to appreciate later. He shrugged, and put the arrow back in the quiver. “So, what are you apologizing for?”

“This was supposed to be a quick visit. And instead, we’ve been quite sidetracked.”

“Well, neither of us expected a devil on the doorstep. And besides, it’s only been a week. It’s not like we'd decided on a destination yet, so there is no rush to go anywhere. Would you mind gutting this beast? I forgot to change shirts, and I rather like this one.”

Most would consider asking a bhaalspawn whether they’d mind gutting a kill was the rhetorical question to end all rhetorical questions, but Durge still appreciated being asked. A sharp enough dagger did short work of the boar’s skin and muscles and they began to remove the organs, quickly but methodically.

“Still, we shouldn’t need to remain much longer. Raphael, or the half of him that made it to the Material Plane, is a devil no longer. Once we’re sure he poses no threat, we go our way.” And maybe Gale will have news for us, they thought, but didn’t say as much. The boar’s stomach joined its intestines on the forest ground. “I promised we’d find a way to let you walk into the sun again,” they added. “I intend to keep that promise.”

“Aw, you are adorable like this.”

Durge looked over, both hands in the boar’s chest cavity. “While forearm-deep in viscera?”

“Well-- that too. But mostly when you’re making promises you absolutely do mean.” Astarion crouched across them, and looked at them in the eye. “I’m starting to think you’re getting more fixated on this quest for daylight than I am.”

A pause, a sigh. “I saw you looking outside the windows. And that conversation with Aylin--”

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle. Believe me, I’ve had worse--”

“And you can have better. You miss the sun.”

“... Yes, I do miss the sun. And I miss seeing my reflection, and being able to savor the taste of anything other than blood, and breaking into people’s homes without being invited. Most of these things are lost to me. It does make one cranky. But I’m happy. You know I mean that.”

Ah. Durge paused, and looked over. A smile. “Yes. I know.”

“Good. So leave the unnecessary fretting to Halsin, will you? I can handle life without sunlight, but not having to deal with two mother hens,” he added, and grinned. “Besides, I am really curious to see what’s going on with Raphael. And I think you are, too.”

A soft scoff as they finished gutting the boar. “He’s not in an enviable position, that’s for sure. At least Bhaal has no hold left over me. Mephistopheles may still hold half of his soul, if it hasn’t been downright destroyed.”

“And he probably didn’t exactly let this half go.” Astarion tilted his head, perceptive as always. “That’s a concern, too. That he may find out the wayward spawn survived, and send someone to end him - or worse yet, bring him back.” He did not name Cazador, but he may as well have; his gaze only darkened that way when thoughts of his former master entered his mind. ”And if they do find him, everyone else around him will be collateral damage.”

“That has also been weighing on my mind, yes. His continued presence at the inn could put people in it in danger. They have Isobel and Aylin, but they could use a few more blades if it comes to it.”

“Or we could just kill him.”

“... Or we could just kill him.”

“But you don’t want to.”

Well, no point in denying the obvious. Durge nodded and took out a length of rope to string the boar to a tree and drain some of the blood. Astarion usually took care of that quite efficiently, but he’d had his fill from Halsin for the night. “I will admit that his current standing with his esteemed father feels uncomfortably familiar.”

“Heh. I knew it. Not very surprised, either. Remember when I told you that if Cazador ever found me, he may come and butcher everyone at camp to claim me back? Well, I was half expecting you to throw me out. With the damn parasite and the Absolute and everything else to deal with, I knew no one needed to watch their back for a vampire lord, too. But you didn’t.” A pause, and he smirked, gesturing at his face. “If you’d do that for an exceedingly handsome vampire, I’m not surprised you’d do the same for a… passably good looking devil.”

Durge laughed, and headed to the nearby stream to wash off some blood. “I am not sure,” they said, “if you’re thinking of drinking his blood or trying to seduce him.”

“Gods, no! I’d gladly sample his blood, but I have no intention to seduce him. Not least because even I probably cannot compare to a personal incubus, I suspect.”

“Mh.”

“... This is the part where you tell me I am a far better lay than the incubus.”

Durge replied without looking up, getting blood off their hands and forearms. “You’re a far better anything than any incubus. And according to the incubus in question, Raphael himself is nothing to write home about.”

“Talk about giving devils a bad name,” Astarion sighed, and Durge laughed again. When they stood, wiping their hands over their shirt, they felt Astarion’s arms around them, head leaning against their back. 

“Maybe,” he said, “we can call it a night for the hunt. I got us a large beast, after all.”

“Ah, and you’d deny me the chance to see yet another flawless shot?”

A light bite through the shirt, delicate, teeth barely scraping against scales. “I have other flawless skills to put to use, if you’re so inclined.”

They were.

***

While not unheard of, becoming intoxicated on any kind of substance was highly frowned upon in Baator; few self-respecting devils would do such a thing, or at least not before witnesses. That never stopped anyone from indulging in wine, however, since no devil would ever become intoxicated with something that mild. 

Even through the pounding headache and sense of nausea, Raphael knew this. Yet another reminder that he was currently no devil. It did precisely nothing to make him feel better. 

“Uuugh.”

Squeezing his eyes shut against the light coming in through the curtains, Raphael forced himself to sit up and lean back against the bedpost. It made his head spin, but after a few deep breaths it was… better. Slightly better. Maybe he could spare himself the indignity of emptying the contents of his stomach over himself, at least. Slowly, the room ceased to spin. And there it was, right where he had thrown it the previous night - that damned book.  

Pounding head and all, he could now tell that throwing the book against the wall had been a dire mistake. The rat would walk in and they would know they had succeeded in getting under his skin. They’d found a sore spot he didn’t know he had, and he’d made as much painfully obvious.

For a moment he thought of trying to stand and pick up the ruined book, try to put it back together, but he had barely tried to move when his head swam, and he had to lean back again. He turned, and looked at the lanceboard on the nightstand. A simple thing, made of painted wood; then he blinked and before him there was a far more elaborated one, made of ivory and black marble. In the back of his mind echoed a voice he hadn’t heard in a long, long  time.

“You’re more intelligent than you know, but only half as clever as you think you are.”  

The words may have been harsh, but the voice was calm; his-- stepfather? -- mother’s widower never raised his voice, not once. Still, it did not lessen the sting of defeat as he moved a piece, and the game was over.

A Theskan Double-Counter Gambit, but Israfel would only learn the name of that move later on. For now, he just scowled at the lanceboard, at the pieces’ shadows dancing in the light of the fireplace. 

“Ugh. How did you--”

“You were too quick to get on the defense. Retreat begets regret. Remember that.”

“But I had to defend, or else you would have--”

“I wouldn’t have. I hadn’t noticed the opening. You brought it to my attention in your haste to cover it up, and opened up another weak point I could exploit.”

“... Oh.”

“You’ll need to be more decisive than that, and make your intentions far less obvious. The way you’re playing, you may as well send me a messenger pigeon to warn me of each move beforehand.” A pause, then he reached across the small table to tilt up his chin, to make Israfel look him in the eye. He only ever did that when he wanted him to really listen, so he did listen.

“You won’t always have the upper hand. Sooner or later, you’ll find yourself on your back foot. And when that happens, don’t assume your opponent knows they have an edge on you. They may very well not be aware, and you must not make them aware.”

“But if they know--”

“If they suspect they have something on you, you must not turn that suspicion into certainty. That’s inviting them to strike. Do you understand?”

“... Yes, sir.”

Almost two millennia later, a long way from Tethyr, Raphael let out a bitter chuckle. Of course he only thought he’d understood, then, but he hadn’t. A boy of twelve, still a year away from being taken to Cania to meet his father, he’d believed he was getting a lesson on how to play lanceboard. Only later would he understand what it was that the man had been doing in his limited, flawed, mortal way. He wasn’t teaching him how to play lanceboard: he was trying to prepare him for the Hells, prepare him to deal with his own kin and come out of it alive.

And it had worked, all things considered. He’d learned the lessons and put them to use, then improved upon them; it had kept him safe, and thriving, for a long time. Longer than most spawn of Mephistopheles got to live, as it turned out, until the rat had decided to be too clever by half and Raphael had attacked too rashly, in his own home, too certain of victory to consider what being slain in Baator would entail. Clearly, that one time, he should have prioritized defense after all.

And now he’d let the rat know he had an edge on him, too. He’d die before admitting it, but the ruined book would tell the tale in his stead loud and clear.

And when they stepped in, a bowl of something in their hands, it certainly did. Their gaze found the book immediately, and they raised the scaly ridge that served as their left eyebrow. Raphael had never wished to tear off pieces of someone’s face more. “If you have complaints about the quality of the books I give you, you have but to speak up,” they muttered. If they noticed Raphael’s sorry state, or the empty decanter on the nightstand, they made no mention of it.

Any plans Raphael may have had to try and save face promptly went out of the window. What would be the point? They knew. He’d shown his hand. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction to see him shy away from it. “And if you had questions,” he snapped, putting as much venom in his voice as he possibly could, “you had but to ask.”

A pause, and the rat looked at him in silence for a few moments. “... Yes, this was perhaps unnecessarily underhanded,” they conceded. The apologetic note in their voice was not exactly unwelcome - if anything, Raphael would have appreciated to see them take it a few steps further by crawling on their knees begging for forgiveness that would not come - but something about it made him scowl all the same.

“Spare that tone for your pet vampire and his tales of woe. Are you expecting to hear of a great tragedy? Of devil spawn barely surviving the Material Plane until his unholy father saw it fit to welcome him in his home?” He scoffed. It was a common story to most cambions, save those whose mortal mothers were brought to the Hells prior to their birth, but it was not his. It had never been. “You’ll be sorely disappointed. I wanted for nothing.”

“You were luckier than most.” The bhaalspawn picked up the book, or what remained of it. 

Raphael scoffed. “May I inquire where you even found that book?”

“In a box, inside a cave. You’ll find a disconcerting amount of things in boxes inside caves.”

“I am far from the only cambion sired by an archdevil. What made you think--”

“Lanceboard.”

“I beg your pardon?” Raphael said, in a tone that made it plain he was not begging for anyone’s pardon.

“This was about a cambion sired by an archdevil in Tethyr, just as it broke free from the Calimshan Empire. It reminded me of lanceboard. I saw you play it with Mol, and I have been looking at it now,” they added, gesturing at the lanceboard on the nightstand. “You play by Calimshan rules, ancient ones. Hardly anybody does anymore, even in its former nations.”

“Hardly anybody can play a proper game of lanceboard anymore, is what you mean,” Raphael muttered. “A true art form, lost to time. Was that all you based your guess on?”

“More or less.” A shrug, and the breakfast was set down by the lanceboard. “It was just an intuition.”

One that I made a certainty, with the worst amateur mistake, Raphael thought, and could taste bile in the back of his throat. He waited for the rat to continue, to mock him or at least hint at what they wanted out of the knowledge, but they said nothing of the sort. 

“Isobel will come to have a look at your injuries shortly,” was all they said, and they were leaving, taking the book with them. Raphael glared at their retreating back, then glared at the closed door for several minutes for good measure. Finally, entirely ignoring the bowl of food, he drew in a deep breath and lifted his hands. 

“Vis medicatrix,” he all but growled. 

The healing spell rolled over him, and he breathed out in relief. He tried to move his legs beneath the blankets, bracing himself for pain. It did come, of course it did, but not as unbearable as he expected, and both legs answered to his commands. He could move them without searing agony; he estimated it would be a matter of days, maybe even less than a week, before they could hold his weight and he could walk again. And once he did, he would proceed with the next stage of his plan. 

As soon as he worked one out.

***

“What-- in the Hells-- was that!”

Dalah’s voice was strangled, as though trying to force out words through a throat as narrow as a reed. Lounging on their bed - lounging was about the only way they knew how to rest on a surface - Haarlep clicked their tongue.

“It sounds like a forced ascension. Raphael could usually-- mostly-- control his Ascended form before, but that was with his soul in one piece. It seems that only half of it isn’t handling it as well.” A pause. “That, or Mephistopheles went ahead with some experiments. Wouldn’t put it past him. Or it’s both. Either way, I can’t imagine it’s pleasant. Raphael always hated having to resort to it. Getting himself back under control was difficult and I’m pretty sure the transformation itself hurt like-- well. Hell.”

“I’d never seen anything like it. And I’ve been here--” A pause, a grimace. She didn’t know, Haarlep could tell, just how many centuries she’d been there. Given how old Raphael was, it had to be around eighteen centuries, give or take a few decades. “... A long time.”

“Yes, that specific little trick is beyond most devils. He is the spawn of an archdevil, after all, and it comes with heritage. It’s part the reason why so many here hated him, his less than lovely personality aside. It was an insult of sorts, that a half-fiend would have such power. Mephistopheles just got himself an excellent guardian for his vault.” 

“A monster, that’s what he got himself.” A shaky laugh. “That’s what I gave him. That thing could tear through most souls and devils in Cania like nothing, if not for Barbas’ hold on it.”

“All the more reason to keep him on a tight leash.” Haarlep leaned in, taking a good look at her. The somewhat startling resemblance to her son’s human form aside - how Raphael had not seen it, they had no idea - there was nothing remarkable about her, which was remarkable in itself. “For someone who came so close to him,” they pointed out, “you’re surprisingly free of horrid burns, or scarring, or melted eyeballs. And surprisingly alive, if one can call yours a life.”

“It almost got me. I don’t know what stopped it,” Dalah said, a little too quickly to be entirely believable. Holding something back, wasn’t she? That wouldn’t do. She could hold back all she wanted from them, but she answered to someone else who just wouldn’t be denied. 

“If there is indeed a way to tame the new guardian of Mephistopheles’ vault, there is someone who would certainly like to be informed.”

A pause, and she looked out of the window for several long moments, eyes fixed on the icy mountains in the distance. “... I spoke his name. The one I chose, not the one Mephistopheles saw fit to bestow upon him the day he had him brought to Mephistar.”

“Ah, yes. Mephistopheles does tend to do that. He likes to choose how to name his things. He and Raphael have that in common.”

The remark made her hesitate, and turn to look at Haarlep. “What was your name? Before?”

“I didn’t have one. I don’t especially mind, don’t go worrying that mortal mind of yours. Haarlep grew on me.” A grin. “Any name will grow on me, once I hear it moaned with wanton abandon enough times. And believe me, I never failed to make it happen.”

She made a face. “I don’t know why I still ask questions,” she muttered, and turned to leave. 

Haarlep, on the other hand, had a question of their own. “You know, I was wondering,” they said, sitting back on the bed. “All this time, did you think of him as Israfel or as Raphael?”

A pause, her back tense. She didn’t turn, but they could hear her scowl when she spoke. “I didn’t think of him at all, and I was better off for it,” she snapped, and stormed out before Haarlep could ask anything more. They sighed, leaning back with a click of their tongue. 

“Eighteen centuries in Cania, and still trying to lie to a devil,” they muttered, and looked outside, across the courtyard, to the window leading to the outer portals.

Perhaps, one of those days, they may just set out to see how their little brat was faring in the Material Plane.

***

“Hey! Look!”

“Look over there!”

As a gaggle of children abruptly ended their playing around a tree, Wyll found himself wishing he’d traveled at night. Halsin’s charges had been through Hell as it was - figuratively and, for several tiefling orphans, quite literally as well - and he should have known better than showing up like this, horns and all, a devil of all things. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Have they not seen enough horrors as is?

He stopped some distance away, heart dropping, and immediately held up his palms to try and show he meant no harm. 

“Well met. I mean-- I have no intention to hurt any of you. I’m looking for Hals--”

A shriek cut him off, but it held no terror. Several children broke off from the group to start running, but not away - towards him. 

“That’s the Blade of Avernus!”

“It’s him!”

“Daddy Halsin told us all about you!”

“Remember me? We met at the grove! When you were the Blade of Frontiers! You showed me how to swing the sword!”

Wyll blinked, taken aback, but surprise melted into elation when he met the eyes of a boy who looked very familiar indeed. “Umi! Oh Gods, I’m so happy to see you again!” he crouched, forgetting all about his hellish appearance. “Ah, you’re getting tall! I was certain you'd get through it all. You just had to buy enough time to run, remember?”

“It was Rolan who saved us-- but, I’ll learn how to fight well! Like you!”

“Ah, I’m sure you will. Though I believe Halsin’s fondest hope is that you’ll never need to fight.”

“I’ll only do it if I must. To keep us safe. Can I call myself the Blade of Frontiers when I’m big?”

Wyll laughed. “Of course. Name’s up for grabs now, I guess.” 

He tried to stand, but several small hands grabbed at his clothes to pull him back. 

“Are you really fighting devils in Avernus?”

“You and the big lady with the heart on fire?”

“What is it like?”

“How do you do it?”

“Tell us everything!”

Well, what choice did he even have, Wyll reasoned, but to satisfy the request of such eager fans? He laughed, and stood. “Very well, I’ll tell you all that’s happened in the past half year.” Or… maybe not quite all of it. “I do need to see Halsin, though. Could you take me to him while I tell you everything?”

“Yes!”

“He’s at the inn!”

“He’s spending a lot of time at the inn. With the other heroes.”

“The other-- is someone else from my party here, too?”

“Hu-uh. The dragonborn sorcerer and the vampire spawn.”

Oh, Wyll thought, thank the gods. Luck had been in short supply up to that point, and he very much welcomed such a stroke of it, finding three of their companions in the same place. If they accepted to help in what was probably a suicide mission, then the five of them could perhaps hope to succeed.

“What about the lady with the burning heart? Can she come visit us too?” a girl asked. 

The thought of Karlach stuck waiting in Avernus, even in the relative safety in the House of Hope - ‘I’ll just eat dirt or whatever!’ - dampened Wyll’s smile, but only for a moment. “All going well,” he said, “she’ll be happy to visit you very, very soon.”

***

“All right, I think it’s enough.”

“No, it isn’t.” Raphael ground his teeth and took two more steps. Even with most of his weight on the crutches, his legs ached and trembled from the effort. By the door, the most insufferable cleric to have ever graced Selûne’s ranks crossed her arms. 

“There’s no reason to put so much strain on your legs. You’re doing well, and impatience is not your ally. Don’t undo the progress--”

Whatever she said next was lost to Raphael, as he put another foot down and pain shot up his spine. He turned with a scowl, arms trembling from the effort of keeping himself upright. “Don’t presume you may tell me what I may or may not do, mortal!”

Isobel Thorm’s eyes narrowed. “I am sorry, could you repeat? I think I just heard you say you want me to break your legs again, but I may have misheard. Did I?”

Raphael ground his teeth, and he almost dropped one of the crutches to throw the fireball he’d been aching to throw for the past several days. Except that it was unlikely to do her any harm she couldn’t counter, and he’d drop to the floor the second he let go of the crutch. And it would likely bring a bloodthirsty vampire, an even more bloodthirsty aasimar, and the former Chosen of Bhaal upon him like a pack of wolves. Plus a bear, probably; Raphael had not faced the druid directly, but he knew he could deal significant damage of his own.

Overall, there was an overwhelming amount of evidence pointing to the conclusion that attacking Isobel Thorm would be most unwise.

No matter. I’ll make them all suffer at a later time. I’ll make sure it lasts, savor the symphony of their scream to the last note before I end them and then bring them back to do it all over again. They will die painfully for each time they wronged me.

“... If you’re done killing me in your head, would you grace me with a response?”

Her death, Raphael decided, would be particularly slow. 

“Fine,” he muttered instead, trying and failing not to sound like he’d swallowed a lemon. At least she didn’t further humiliate him by trying to help, and let him get back on the bed on his own. The pain lessened and he breathed out, saying nothing as she cast a healing spell. 

The relief was immediate; without agony shooting up his spine, he could tell that at least one thing she was correct. Impatience was not his ally, and bursts of temper would get him nowhere in terms of getting them to lower their guard. The thought made the next words that left his mouth easier to force out. Not that he let his tone betray the fact they left an acrid taste on his tongue. “... That was uncalled for,” he said, leaning back. “My apologies.”

“Apology accepted.” Isobel Thorm’s voice was dry, but no further threats followed. The crutches were taken, and placed against a wall away from his reach. “Progress is slow, but steady. You’ll be able to walk again in days, if you don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Raphael replied, and watched her leave in silence. He heard the key turn in the lock, and listened just long enough to hear her footsteps on the stairs before he sat up again. A quick healing spell on himself, and he made another attempt at standing, a hand braced against the wall. His knees almost buckled, but held; Raphael ground his teeth against the pain, and forced himself to move towards the crutches.

Impatience was not his ally, but neither was idleness. He was able to walk without searing agony, leaning heavily on the crutches, and wasn’t even short of breath when he got to the window. It was open, but two guards keeping watch beneath it ensured it wouldn’t be a viable way out even if he could go anywhere in his current state. Raphael had never been particularly fond of quaint corners in the middle of nowhere, but looking outside was better than staring at the walls or playing yet another game of lanceboard against himself. 

Until he noticed the gaggle of chattering children marching up to the inn, of course; how much Raphael loathed chattering children couldn’t be overstated. He wrinkled his nose and almost moved away from the window - until he spotted the man walking among them as a few ran ahead into the inn. Or to be more accurate a devil, with a familiar set of horns and an even more familiar sending stone in place of his right eye.

Well, look at that. Wyll Ravengard, self-styled Blade of Avernus - what was he doing there?

Why would Mizora’s attack dog be here, if not for me?

Something stirred in the pit of Raphael’s stomach, a very unwelcomed stab of concern that came much too close to fear for his taste, but he forced himself to ignore it. Why would he be there for him? Had the rat called upon the warlock to slay him? No, surely no. Loath as he was to admit it, no great power or skill would be needed to overpower him as he was now. The bhaalspawn, the vampire, the druid, the cleric, the aasimar - each of them could easily kill him on their own.

He may have been sent by the Hells, of course, to kill him or bring him back. But why? Wyll Ravengard answered to Mizora, and Raphael had no quarrel with her. She was under Zariel’s authority, true, but the archduchess of Avernus was not known to meddle with the business of other archdevils. If his esteemed father knew he lived, he had plenty of forces of his own to send after him.

Unless he promised a reward, and Ravengard just so happened to know where to find me.

Raphael swallowed, stomach clenching, and moved to the side so that the curtain would hide him. He could hear voices - no longer just children’s, although their obnoxious chattering made it difficult for Raphael to catch what the rat and the druid were saying.

“Wyll! We didn’t expect--”

“-- always a pleasure--”

“-- please children, he’ll tell you more stories later--”

“-- did Mizora tell you who your target--”

More words were exchanged, but Raphael couldn’t catch them. He peered out of the window to see most of the children dispersing at last, while the rats headed back inside. He finally heard the bhaalspawn speak only moments before they disappeared through the arches leading into the inn. 

“He’s upstairs. I’ll take you there now,” they were saying, and Raphael heard the warlock sigh. 

“Ah, thank you. I knew we could count on you to kill a devil.”

Then the door closed, as deafening as thunderclap, leaving Raphael motionless at the window, mouth dry as the Calimshan desert. Something gripped his stomach, icier than the glaciers of Cania, as he heard the familiar creaks and thumps of steps up the stairs. Through the terror, he almost laughed. Of course Mephistopheles knew he’d escaped; of course he’d put a contract out on him. Who knew, maybe he’d even been the one to plan his escape so that he could send his dogs after him, for the thrill of the hunt. The rat must have been planning to help his friend collect his head from the moment they’d seen him. 

Why else would they keep him alive? He should have seen, should have known. He hadn’t questioned their intentions enough. An amateur mistake - the last mistake he’d ever make. 

But that didn’t mean he had to make it easy for them.

Raphael turned to face the door fully, leaning against the wall, and dared let go of a crutch to lift his right hand. Between his fingers air sizzled, heat building up as he focused, drawing from any scrap of power he’d left. Not the final act he’d planned for anything, let alone for himself, but it would have to do. It was still better than waiting for the fatal blow in the neck like a beast to slaughter, he thought as the key turned into the lock.

The devilish spawn came forth into our world in blood and flames, the book read. He found some solace in that, at least. There was a sort of poetry to it, leaving the Material Plane just as he’d entered it. The thought made Raphael sneer as the door handle was pushed down.

“And that, love, was that,” he growled, and fire burst forth from his palm just as the door opened.

***

[Back to Chapter 4]

[On to Chapter 6]

[Back to Start]

[anachilles]

“I’ve got a headache” and dealer’s choice!

darling, for you, a firstprince tidbit <3

Alex knew he had no right to complain. None whatsoever.

For as long as he'd been coming down with whatever this was, Henry had been hot on his heels, following behind him like a lingering shadow as he moved from the study, to the living room, to the kitchen dining table, back to the study over the last couple of days. Try as he might, he just simply couldn't get comfortable anywhere as tried to tag-team finish one of his final law school essays and his speech for the upcoming rally against proposed cuts to special education funding in New York City.

The rally they were on their way to right now.

The one he was due to be speaking at in the next hour when he had next to no voice left to do it with.

He probably shouldn't have agreed to it, he's so busy right now and undeniably stretching himself thin, evidenced in whatever random illness this was that such stress had apparently manifested. But the issue was so close to his heart, lit him up and burned his insides in a way he just simply couldn't ignore.

In the back of the town car, Alex slouched sideways and let his fevered brow lean against the blessedly cool bulletproof window. Not that he was particularly inclined to care too much if someone with a sniper did want to take him out right now with how much his head was banging, the pressurised pain radiating upwards into his head through his sinuses in a singularly fucking unbearable ache. His glasses sat suddenly askew on the bridge of his nose with the awkward angle, but it reminded him at least to, for God's sake, take them off before he got out of the car.

"Are you alright, darling?" Henry's voice, soft, deliberately muted, sounded from somewhere beside him; he didn't know, his eyes had slipped closed again. He knew the answer, but needed to address it anyway. When Alex didn't answer straight away, from out of the darkness of his closed eyelids was a sudden pressure on his knee. The weight of Henry's hand was grounding somewhat, the stroke of his thumb comforting in a way that reached down into Alex's heart and physically hugged on the strings.

Alex forced his eyes open again against the pressure that'd rather them be shut, and turned his head, tried to will his voice not to be as pitiful as he knew it would be.

"Just a headache," he said, with a forced tinge of a smile. It was an underestimation neither of them would take any actual heed of, but it'd have to do. God, he just wanted to go home. But he also didn't want kids who's experiences he often see echoes of in his own to be without the education that they need. That they deserve.

Henry watched him for a moment, studied his face for a protracted couple of beats, the tense lines of his washed out expression but also the determination that lay down deeper, from a well that never seemed to empty. He clicked his tongue in that vaguely patronising but at the same time wholly affectionate way, and squeezed Alex's knee before withdrawing his hand.

"Come here." His face was less openly pitying then, not any less sympathetic, though, the tone of his voice ringing even softly, tenderly, with a command rather than a suggestion.

Fuck, Alex loved him. He went immediately, shifting and moving his head from the cold, dewy window of the car to Henry's lapel. He heaved out a grateful exhale, then a groan, as his partner's reliably chill fingers ("circulation that could only be as a result of-" "-centuries of inbreeding, I know.") pressed down on the bridge of his nose, then the space between his eyebrows, kneading into the focal point of the pressure. Then, they moved to his temples, his thumbs digging into the ache, urging it to loosen, even just the tiniest bit.

"Thank you..." Alex breathed out, relief washing through him even at the minute alleviation.

Henry moved his thumb, briefly replacing it with his lips. "You're welcome," he said simply, nosing fondly into his hair a little. "Close your eyes again until we get there. We've still a way to go, yet."

[gcldfanged]

21 [Veld - monstersmade]

021. — Force my muse’s head under water.

Having water constantly poured on him didn't seem so bad in theory, he figured the pressure might start to make his neck sore (depending on how he was restrained), but failed to take several things into account.

They were underground in the dark and with his clothing waterlogged, he was struggling to contain the natural urge to shiver from the chill. Not only that, but he could barely see when the next bucket was coming with his hair plastered over his eyes from the deluge. Each downpour came as an unwelcome jolt to the system, sometimes Verdot would stop and let him have a 'rest period', seemingly, then douse him again. This continued for hours.

Miserable as he was, he was slightly regretting having underestimated water curing as a form of legitimate torture. He refused to speak, refused to make eye contact when his head was wrenched back. It was unpleasant to sit through, but not enough to make him start feeling true fear.

Arms steeled with thick corded muscle yanked him out of the chair, his hand still bound behind him by tight cuffs. Bent over a what looked like a water trough for domestic chocobos, his mentor shoved him facefirst into the basin. His eyes clenched shut, water flooded his ear canals, his lips tightened. He could hold out.

But Verdot didn't hoist him back up like he was expecting. All of his upper body strength was leveraged against the back of Yoon's neck and base of the skull as a few air bubbles expelled from his nose rose to the surface. The agent felt his chest begin to constrict, beginning to try and muscle his way back up due to the lack of oxygen. He bucked like an angry bull, muffled noises from the depth of his throat getting garbled by the water. His mind was racing, was the elder agent actually going to let him pass out?

Jae was pulled back just as his mouth gasped open, getting a mouthful of water and some (thankfully) air lodged in his throat, pharynx burning as he coughed and sputtered. He was barely given three seconds before he was shoved down again, getting the cold liquid up his sinuses and flooding the inside of his mouth. Again and again he was brought back from the brink, stuck in a hellish limbo of just barely having enough air to not suffocate, but also having water caught half in his airways. He gagged and threw up at some point, it was all water. It poured from his throat as he continued to heave even more out onto the floor.

He was exhausted, his limbs could barely move. The recruit was visibly shaking, his bloodied knees trembling as they barely supported his weight. Without realizing it, he'd passed out near what he thought was the end.

Jae-hyo awoke to Verdot hastily unfastening the cuffs keeping his hands bound and rolling him onto his side in case he needed to retch again. His waterlogged hair was carefully pushed back out of his face, a large thumb rough with calluses opening his left eye to check for a response. He wasn't sure if his pupil constricted or what cue he gave away, because he couldn't even move if he wanted to, unable to keep his heavy lids open- going slack in his mentor's arms as a thick blanket was wrapped around his shoulders.

"Shh, I've got you kiddo," Verdot muttered against against the crown of his skull, feeling the rasp of his facial hair the the craggy scar tissue marring his cheek.

Stormy grey-blue eyes cracked open, glancing almost dreamily at the ceiling.

"Did I..." Fuck, was that his voice?

"Did I fail the exercise?" Jae rasped, feeling hot tears of shame gathering at the corners of his eyes and spill down his already damp cheeks.

Verdot only held onto him tighter, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades in a calming fashion.

"No... No, you did great. You did so well, you were so good for me."

For some odd reason the answer made him finally crumble, heaving out some horrible utterance caught between a sob and a laugh of relief, burying his face into the warmth of Verdot's torso- Their hands clasped together hard enough that he was certain the elder man's watchband would leave an imprint in his skin.

[fetabathwater]

so can i ask how you see amma and gortash's relationship prior to receiving a knife in the head? ive seen how other people write it and then i found your fics and im interested in how you came to liking the dark urge and gortash

honestly found it due to insanity. < joking.

on a serious note my kryptonite in games has always been some degree of connection between characters, because i have such a love/hate relationship with how it widens the world and interpersonal relationships but can also simultaneously seem to make everything seem relatively small. but with bg3 i kind of really like that balance there because like, anything is quite frankly possible with durge anyway - the only traits are like 1) spawn of bhaal 2) serial killer (?) 3) worked with the other dead three chosen within the last 2 years and 4) was knifed by another chosen of bhaal and tadpoled. you can make up anything and everything because the game is dnd and the rules are whatever, too. yeah you get context clues from other characters, like that ketheric fundamentally can't stand anyone, but the chosen(s) of bhaal more so, and he tolerated the durge bc at least they had a work ethic (LOL), and gortash like plans 500 steps ahead so made it his prime directive to touch base with the bhaalist leader and be like, hey man, wanna go break into some places with me? or wanna take over the world? raphael is also there. yknow.

also definitely the delivery of lines sold me too - not just gortash's VA, but the way orin kind of like looooaaattthhhheeesss how durge was seemingly wrapped up in other shit ( slash sarevok is even like. yeah you thought you were untouchable and didnt notice that orin was making her own move for the throne . idiot. stupidhead. worst chosen next 2 me). also all the other characters as well who have something to say, like kressa, helsik and naaber, never mind all of the moonrise tower and then the quests in act 3, but starting earlier with just partially revealed information.

i . okay yeah like i have seen some interesting sort of takes of durge / gortash and each to their own etc etc but i think that the durge has a lot more agency than ppl wanna give them credit for, and i think people also vastly underestimate that gortash also seemingly underestimated them as well - like just bc durge wrote some like note about forgive me father but i am being charmed by the chosen of bane (however u wanna interpret that ofc), they did still end it with oh well ! i'll probably feel a tiny smidgen of guilt when i backstab him but we're gonna end the world in ur name dad ! praise bhaal! LIKE. THE DURGE WAS DEFINITELY GONNA STILL KILL EVERYONE - EVEN THE NETHERBRAIN WAS LIKE. YEAH YOU HELD IT ALL TOGETHER AND YOU SCARED ME EVEN A LITTLE BIT. YOU WERE GONNA KILL EVERYONE.

honestly though ive barely actually posted anythign i have written for them teehee i checked. it was like 2 fics. 1 of them they were fucking. so i mean take that how you will ... but like i mean amma and gortash's "relationship" extends back longer than what the range of the game gives, at least in my mind and what ive like. got an idea of anyway for her pre-bg3 life / adventures were like. but as far as how they like interact it is barely above tolerable. towards the absolute sort of planning it is running a lot warmer, but theyre just. aware of each other. in some similar circles because of well. lower city activities etc. a general equal partnership with stepping on each others toes, seeing how far to push the other. amma probably does hold on some threatening level a bit more of a . position. just because like (okay hindsight compared to orin), it is literally her own person not having her run gortash through - and he knows that. with orin he makes her basically agree to a magical contract to not harm him, but amma's the only thing holding herself back from just like. killing him. and for the most part she probably would just be mildly inconvenienced and it would probably leave her bed running a bit cold but like. she would bounce back. it would just INCONVENIENCE the plan heavily because chosen of bane are few and far between.

and also she knows that gortash also primarily gives the targets that are convenient for him, and there definitely times when it was bordering on a bit too much pointing and doing - and in her mind not enough equal weight pulling definitely. very much a case of balancing the scales in terms of doing their part, especially with the like multiple heists they perform (at least 3 minimum), and not just being aware of the other especially prior to both being selected as the chosen of their respective god. but yeah. there is no real "love" between them, no love lost either. arguably amma doesnt really know what love is, or in her own roundabout way expresses it much in the way of loving something so much you have the urge to eat it. yeah, amma does have a slight attachment, one that kind of hits a higher speed immediately prior to being knifed and tadpoled, because that is when we get the heists and actual partnership and its not just the introduction of the steel watch and him clawing his way up the social ladder by encouraging favour by lords and ladies and their beds, and its not the bhaalists just kind of sitting by idle and waiting for something to kick them into gear because yeah people are dying but at the same time, its not striking the fear into people's hearts like it used to, just letting them fade into history, despite bhaal's return like 10yrs prior.

amma kind of hates that gortash actually gave her a way to bring them back into the fray, and that she also does have to hold off from not ending him before the plan would have worked completely. a lot of that feeling is in the few times that she does like, strike out at him, either with planned wounds or if she has violently lashed out in general and even when they fuck, honestly. when amma does wrangle herself back into that position of control, especially in a position where gortash is incredibly vulnerable, its messes with her hatred so bad. she doesnt know if he is willingly submitting to her, because yeah she loves a bit of fighting back, hair pulling, scratching, getting told off, what can she say. definitely does something to her. but amma kind of loves when she's almost literally got him underfoot.

she wouldve followed the plan through to the end as well, so it is a mixed blessing for a lot of people that orin took an opportunity to strike at her.

ultimately its not so much that whole like 'i can fix him / i can make him worse' stuff either, because like amma did have a chance at a "normal" life, but she still returned to the temple of bhaal (whether or not by her own choice is ofc . debatable lmao). gortash was sold to a warlock, beaten in the house of hope routinely, escaped only to wind up in street gangs, eventually made his way to being an arms dealer, worked up the social ladder with equal parts sex and money and blackmail, sold possibly his friend into slavery for technology (we just really dont know the full extent of what zariel promised yknow), was the one who reached out to the bhaalist leader and concocted the idea to raid a vault or two, both in faerun and the hells. like, they were choices that were made, to keep them both firmly though on the side of like... theyre not realistically good people, their childhoods definitely shaped them, but they didnt try to change then and there. they just stay the same, and there is no getting better or worse. there just is.

[plethomacademia]

Eros 2 and 5, storge 2 and 3 (sorry for so many)

Never sorry, let's dig in to this great set of asks.

Jumping because we know

Eros 2. How important is sex to them in a relationship? Do they see it as something essential to their happiness? Would they be able to remain in a monogamous relationship with someone they loved without sex? Maeve was raised to think of herself as a tool and that includes her body. Her body is a weapon, her body is an idol, her body is currency she can spend. She isn't allow other kinds of relationships so she learns to lean heavily on sex and I think that wiring would take a long time to undo.

Honestly what undoes her with Gortash I think is that their relationship is not sexual for almost a full year. She just interacts with this person that at first she sees as a threat, then just a rival, then maybe an ally, and only when he calls her his friend and is like wait why haven't we fucked? Then she's like oh yeah right! And that order just destroys her.

In the game timeline, Maeve uses sex to kind of take the edge off her murder stuff. I like to imagine she tried other vices to help, but all them make her headaches worse or make her feel sick. What does help though is fucking the hot people she's surrounded with. So again, for her it's sex first, relationship maybe?

Astarion only works because it went sex -> relationship. And honestly, in my game, the only reason she doesn't shut down the relationship is due to the order of in game events: Sceleratis tried to get Maeve to kill him, then Astarion admitted his emotions and I think that combo was what got her to try.

Halsin I actually didn't see her with originally because he's very much heart forward, emotions forward, but also the man is hot and you know it will be fun. I ended up doing it only because he asked Maeve so late in the game, while she has been proving with Astarion that she can do the emotions part.

LONGEST WAY OF SAYING, she has always been sex = relationship if she's allowed to have relationship at all. She has to learn how to do the relationship and she's still bad at it. Sex is not as much essential as useful.

Eros 5. How closely is their opinion of their own beauty (or lack thereof) linked to their confidence? Do they see themselves as more or less worthy of love or sex based on how attractive they feel?

She is a wretched thing. But she is a beautiful thing. And she knows there's power in that. In my fic there's a bit where I tease that she gets annoyed with how often she has to be like yes, this fragile looking elf is a mass murder machine, want me to show you? But I think she appreciates how it causes people to underestimate her.

The relationship with love gets weird again because she doesn't have to earn that, she gets it for being what she is. If her being beautiful helps keep a follower coming until they earn their ecstasy, sure.

In game is interesting because her confidence at the beginning is all an act. She is terrified, she has no idea what is going on, she doesn't understand why she is so good at convincing people to do things or why she has this tactical mind? Honestly I wonder if stealing Astarion's mirror and seeing herself might make her less confident. This one is interesting, I need to chew on it.

Storge 2. Does your OC have children? If so then how fiercely do they love them? If they have more than one then do they love them all equally? If they do not have children then is this part of their future plans?

HA HA HAAAAAAA I know why you're asking this.

I love this one for dark urges because this is one of your jobs right?

Pre game, children are just something that Maeve assumes will happen when the church is ready for that step. It would be a biological thing, a duty, and she does lots of things with her body for her duty, what's having a kid. Would she love them? She loves all of her church, of course :) Would it be what this question is asking? No.

But then she starts to fall in love with a dipshit Banite. I am actually hoping to use this idea to ruin her day a little bit in my current chapter because Sceleratis is going to suggest she have a bhaalspawn with Gortash to kind of appease her dad's worry that Maeve is losing the plot. It's not the having a kid part that's going to throw her, it's that it's HIS child, his probably brilliant child, locked up in the sewers without books or gadgets or all those super Gortash things she's falling in love with. Psychic damage will occur.

In game? She's getting used to like having a dog LOL. I also do not head canon Astarion as the kind of person that wants to be a dad, he was a slave for 200 years! Let him have some time. Halsin seems like too much of a free spirit to want to be tied down with a kid. So at least in the short term, I think team emotional disaster will just work on themselves.

I will say! I have a chapter draft for near the end where Maeve is getting to know the elder brain (we ignore canon timeline in this house it's too compact) and my notes have the words daughter, lover, and slave so! Maybe this will be Maeve's mom arc. Then she gets stabbed in the head.

Storge 3. How far does parental approval (imagined or expressed) impact upon their current sense of self-worth? What might they sacrifice or attempt to achieve in order to ensure the approval of their parents?

These questions are so funny for dark urges.

What is self-worth? Her only worth is in relationship to her father. The fact that she even has a self is a problem and a constant negotiation with her butler. The fact that Gortash likes both the child of god weapon Maeve and the person Maeve makes it worse.

What would she do to earn her father's approval? Everything. She would kill the entire world. That is something she never wavers in before she loses her memories. I stand by that letting Orin kill Maeve was a huge fucking mistake and Bhaal should have kept his kids in check. She was a weirdo who liked her hot topic boyfriend and playing the flute but she was all in on the mission and she was ready to die for it.

I am going to write some scenes soon with Gortash trying to lure her with power and I just don't think it works! She wants to be with him because he's her friend. She likes to make him happy because she enjoys him. But every time I play with the idea of him saying "we'll get away from our gods," she shuts right down. She is all in on the mission. Without the mission, she would have to think about her life and what has been done to her.

The fact that Bhaal and Sceleratis see any softness in her and just round up to failure, that was a mistake. They didn't understand her.

In game? L M A O. Honestly, she's not afraid of her father being Bhaal. She kind of takes the whole child of god thing in stride in a weird way, maybe because by the time we get to that reveal she has met Aylin, she has killed a god's avatar, like sure she's Bhaal's gore, fine.

No, it's the fact that Bhaal wants to own her that makes her resist him. I think even if I do eventually get to my evil Maeve run, she will always reject Bhaal. Not because she disagrees with the mission, but because she gets the space to learn person Maeve and a deep part of her is very sick of being controlled.

So in game, her father is in opposition to her sense of self. He has to go.

[specialgrades]

OKAY SO UH... IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR A WHILE BUT IM NOT A WRITER SO-

okay so like bottom male reader, who is dating sukuna, but sukuna has been a bad boyfriend so you and gojo want to mess around with him a bit.. you both restrain him in his sleep and gojo and fucks you while all sukuna can do is sit there and watch.

nonnie ur brain, massive

sukuna x bottom!male reader x gojo

warnings: non-consensual cucking, nipple play, breeding, pet play if you squint

monogamy was not in sukuna’s vocabulary. he had no concept of sharing and yet, had a different woman or man on his arm at any given moment. it was fine for him to whore around, but none of his pets.

he'd consider you one of his favourites- not that he'd ever say it to your face. a small curse user who worked with the jujutsu sorcerers in tokyo. he found you absolutely divine (once again, something he would be caught dead saying out loud). then why in the world did he treat you the way he did?

sukuna put the possess in possessive. you were his, nothing more. he didn’t pamper you or shower you in love. his form of showing his appreciation was fucking you unconsious. lately, that stopped being enough. don’t get it twisted, the dick game was amazing. but was it worth the harshness he treated you with?

gojo, your friend since you started at the school years ago, had just about enough. he cared about you so much, and watching sukuna treat you that way and then hear your whorish moans at night was getting to him. maybe if sukuna got it through his thick skull what a treasure he had under his thumb, he’d treat you better.

it started out with flirting. you always blushed and stuttered whenever someone complimented you, gojo was no exception. he lived for the cute way you’d hide your face when he complimented you on the smallest things.

he started hanging out with you more, alone. sukuna barely noticing you’re gone for a while there. it wasn’t until gojo literally shoved it in his face how happy he made you. the worst part was sukuna knew he couldn’t do shit about it, in his current state he lacked the power needed to wipe gojo satoru off the face of this earth. he couldn’t kill you either, that’d hurt him in more ways than he’d like to admit. what was he going to do, order you to stop working at the one place that guaranteed he’d see you every day?

sukuna responded to this by making it even more obvious you were his cocksleeve. your limp and bruises didn’t go unnoticed. not at all the reaction gojo was looking for.

finally, he stepped it up. a romantic (if you could call it that) walk around the campus and doing a bit more than just friends do before stumbling into his room. it was perfect, and he got to indulge. your moans as he forced his tongue in your mouth made his pants significantly tighter than they were before. you didn’t even notice the quiet man in the corner of the room when gojo tossed you on the bed.

“you're all flushed, (Y/N).” he stated, grazing his lips over your red cheeks. “yeah i-i wonder why.” you stuttered, gripping his button down as his lips trailed to your neck.

sukuna never treated you with this much love and care. it was a breath of fresh air, and you were getting high off of it.

sukuna watched you arch into gojo when he bit your neck, his hand pushing your shirt up- no. that's sukuna’s shirt. if it weren't for the gag he'd scream at the two of you, only garbled sounds muffled by your pants and soft moans as gojo practically worshipped your body. not a single place didn't feel his lips or his fingers.

you were hot. suddenly the clothes you we're wearing were too much. gojo sensed this and helped you tug off your shirt. he waited on the pants until his mouth got down to tug the zipper with his teeth. the lewd display made you ache for him, for gojo.

“what's got you so worked up, puppy?” you whimpered, bucking against gojos newfound hold on your hips. “please, toru i- ah~ need…” your words became more breathy as the sorcerer mouthed over your cock. he had removed the blindfold in exchange to look up at you through his white lashes. “you want more, puppy? you gotta ask nicely.” you started begging him please, please touch your body. he complied with a smirk, tugging down your underwear (a pale baby blue lace sukuna picked out for you). his lips met your tip as his fingers prodded at your hole.

he wasn't surprised at the lack of resistance, he was shocked by how tight you still were despite it. you sucked in his fingers for all their worth.

it didn't take you long to cum for the first time. sukuna watched in anger, hoping you'd notice the cursed energy in the room and glace at your lover. he watched you jump at the chance to shove another cock down your throat. gojo told you to get it nice and wet, completely underestimating your need to have any hole stuffed.

you so easily took all of him, a surprise to the white haired man. you still gagged with his tip poking your throat, and by god did it feel amazing.

he pulled you off before he could cum, determined to make sure that the next time sukuna prepped you (if he did) he'd taste gojo’s cum.

like his fingers, you sucked him in the minute he pushed in. your moans were pornographic, bouncing off the walls.

“tell me whats making you feel so good, baby.” gojo urged. you muttered something until he stilled.

“words.”

you started word vomiting. how daddy filled you up so well (a nickname that was new to gojo), how thankful you were that he gave you his cock and begging him to fill you up with his cum.

“you make me feel so good daddy~! please, mmm~ please breed me daddy, gimmie your cum!”

finally sukuna had enough. only he was allowed to fuck you full of cum. his name carved into your thigh said that, right?

his garbled noises got louder, now no longer drowned out by your screams and moans. you were so fucked out by now- gojo had gotten you to cum three times by now- you barely even noticed. until gojo leaned down and told you.

“look baby, we've got an audience.” he guided your gaze to the dark corner where sukuna was tied up in a similar fashion as his fingers were. he was growling and cursing through the gag, threatening gojo.

you whimpered, realizing what was happening. you were gonna say something before gojo started teasing your nipples (again); something sukuna tended to forget about. you cried out as you came again, whimpering more when you felt gojo finally cum and fill you up.

you passed out right after. gojo cleaned up and smirked at sukuna.

“maybe now you'll think twice about mistreating a gift like him.”

[nancywheelersgirlfriend]

~RONANCETOBER DAY ONE~

Prompt: Upside-Down Word Count: 2,438 words

Nancy always underestimated how disorienting the Upside-Down could be. Every time she so much as blinked, all that came up behind her eyelids were snapshots of her house disintegrating, so caked in heavy black vine even the childhood wallpaper was barely recognizable. She wished it was as easy to compartmentalize as the other emotional landmines she’d collected in her life - Jonathan, Barb, Robin. She wished she could believe it when she told herself that it wasn’t really her house, not truly. It was a product of the Upside-Down. A strange manifestation of somebody’s mind. The wood flooring, the clanky kitchen fridge, the chips off the basement steps from her fall down them in fifth grade; that was all her house. But nothing else was.

Up ahead ran Robin, long legs and natural anxiety causing her to sprint about fifty feet forward. Nancy didn’t call out. She took in the only gap of relative silence she’d had in the past few days, along the heady toxic smell in the air and the ominous call of the bats. Nancy carefully avoided tumbling to the floor by a particularly knotty vine with her boot and nudged away a stick, remembering humorlessly when she’d stepped on one in her first encounter in the Upside-Down. She remembered Jonathan’s voice echoing like a radar beacon through the black night, so close and yet unreachable. Like he was now.

She, though not admitted to aloud, was very glad Steve had stayed behind as proper backup with Eddie and Dustin. Though it’d been a fight to convince Steve she and Robin would be ‘fine’ (as fine as one can be in an alternate dimension), she’d managed to make him stay put. Nancy suspected that, had he come with them as the original plan intended, the silence would be long dead. Somehow Robin knew without words when Nancy needed to be alone. Perhaps Robin needed that gap in conversation as well - she seemed intensely focused on whatever she was doing up ahead.

Nancy watched Robin tuck an absent hair behind her ear as she stalked forward. Her whole face was tilted up to the starless sky, eyebrows furrowed around faded freckles. Though she was at a bit of a distance Nancy could still see the lines in her forehead. She, half-drunk from exhaustion and the fumes of the Upside-Down, beat down the irrational urge to reach out a finger and smooth said lines down. Seeing Robin frown, even in confusion, was almost as disorienting as the location itself.

“You think we’re almost there?” Robin asked, spinning with a frenzied jump as her words caused a group of strange bird-like creatures to fly out from the leafless trees above. She waited in the middle of the path for Nancy to catch up. Her fingers twitched anxiously at her sides, empty.

Nancy shrugged wordlessly as she jogged to catch up to Robin, peering out into the dark forest as if they’d be able to see anything truly worthwhile. 

“‘Cause, you know. It’d be really stupid if we were walking all this way just to not get there in time,” Robin said. Her voice began to pick up speed in a way Nancy was starting to recognize. “I mean, we start the plan, right? What if we never get there? What’s gonna happen? We let down the whole group just ‘cause we got lost in some stupid fucking extraterrestrial woods?”

“We’ll be fine,” Nancy soothed. They started walking again. “You can see the swarming bats above the trees - right there. See?” She pointed in its direction, but her eyes couldn’t help dragging back to Robin’s face. Specifically, to watch the way her bug-eyes widened to follow Nancy’s arm. Her bottom lip looked thoroughly tugged on, no doubt out of anxiety. Nancy wasn’t altogether sure why she’d noticed that.

“Right.” Robin let out a little huff of relief. It wasn’t long before she begun talking again, the space between them heavy with toxic energy that needed to be dispelled. The smell of the Upside-Down was starting to get to Nancy - she held up a hand in front of her nose, though it helped only slightly. “You think fire’ll really get him?”

“What else could we do?” Nancy replied easily, gesturing to the shotgun slung over her back absently. “Not like we could get the US calvary down here. Besides, it worked on the demogorgon.” She took in Robin’s anxious expression and knocked their shoulders together comfortingly. Nancy had never been too good at comforting people, but something about Robin’s general presence made it easy to step down and understand her.

“Are you insulting your own Molotov skills?” Nancy continued in a teasing tone. Robin laughed, happy for the excuse to. 

“I’ll have you know, these bad boys were crafted with expert hands,” Robin retorted, patting her pack protectively. “When I was a kid, I - ugh. It’s stupid.”

“Robin,” Nancy chided. She gestured to their general surroundings. “Who’s listening?”

“I value your opinion of me very much,” Robin replied, aiming for a joke and landing somewhere in between. Nancy found herself not minding very much. “Alright, fine. When I was a kid, I was absolutely terrified of fire.”

“Yeah?”

“If my mom’d lit a candle, I’d be right behind her to blow it out. I refused any kind of candle on my birthday cakes - not even one! When the power went out, I’d sit in the dark instead of lighting a candle. And campfires…don’t even get me started on campfires,” Robin spoke through self-deprecating laughter, burying her head in her hands. 

“What about campfires?” Nancy asked. She couldn’t help but laugh along, really laugh. Really laugh for the first time in days - weeks. It was so silly. She could picture a little Robin, petulant with her arms across her chest, eyes averted from a decorated cake. 

“Girl scout camp, fifth grade.” Robin’s groan was muffled by her palms. She lifted her head up to shake it, smiling bashfully over at Nancy. In the dim light, half of her face was shrouded and half of it was clear. Her clear eye sparkled. The dim part of her nose looked almost sculpted. 

“I guess I shouldn’t ask,” Nancy said, swallowing from how suddenly dry her mouth had gotten. “But I really, really want to.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll promise you this: if we make it out, I’ll tell you the rest,” Robin offered. The emphasis on if was heavy to both, but neither mentioned it. “Yeah?” Nancy gave her a soft smile in agreement.

“Yeah,” She said. Robin held out a pinky. She wiggled it for emphasis. Nancy rolled her eyes, an action that grew more and more fond the more time she spent in Robin’s company. She met her halfway, pinky to pinky and then intertwined. Nancy liked the heat that radiated off Robin’s finger. It pressed against hers. She wondered what it would feel like to have the entirety of her hand wrapped around hers, furnace that she was.

The toe of Nancy’s foot caught on a particularly stubborn root of a nearby tree. She yelped as she went tumbling to the floor of the Upside-Down. The pinky promise turned into a rapid hand hold in the process.

Robin caught Nancy inches away from crashing and upsetting a vine directly below their feet. One hand occupied by Nancy’s, she reached out the other to wrap around Nancy’s waist. Nancy widened her eyes once she saw just how close their faces had gotten in the scramble to catch her. Their noses were nearly touching. Robin’s satchel hit the side of Nancy’s hip softly, having gotten dislodged from its placement by Robin’s leg. 

They only had a momentary pause in that position (to breathe, maybe) before Robin was yanking Nancy back onto unsteady feet. Her fingers spread out onto the small of Nancy’s back protectively. Nancy, dimly, realized she’d been right - Robin was warm all over.

“Thanks,” Nancy managed. 

“I thought I was supposed to be the clumsy one,” Robin joked, grin making her freckles stretch out across her cheeks like constellations. She dropped Nancy’s hand hold but kept the one on her back, as if she didn’t trust Nancy to be able to take her first steps by herself. If it’d been anyone else Nancy would’ve bitten that hand clean off. She let Robin guide her back onto the path. She said nothing about the hand. It was nice. 

It was nice to be touched in such a careful way. Not careful in the sense that Robin acted as if she were something breakable, but careful in a revered way. As if Nancy was something perfect. She wasn’t sure what to do with that.

And looking over at her now - the way Robin was looking at her - knocked about all the breath left in Nancy’s chest. There was something indescribable hanging in Robin’s eyes, hidden just behind that swirl of gray blue. It crystalized. It blossomed. Nancy knew she was matching tenfold with her own. She leaned ever so slightly into Robin’s hand.

“Nance?” Robin asked. Nancy blinked. She’d never replied.

“Sorry,” Nancy said, as sheepish as a person could be. They started walking again. Nancy could’ve cried when Robin pulled her hand back to the safety of gripping her bag strap. “Sorry. I’m a little all over the place right now.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” Robin cut in quickly. She laughed a little as she glanced around again, eyes scanning the darkness that threatened to swallow them whole. “So am I. It’s hard not to be, in a place like this.”

“I’ll catch you next time,” Nancy promised. She swallowed desperately. She hoped she didn’t sound too off. Too abnormal. Truth be told, it was getting harder to speak without Robin’s fingers brushing against her spine. She’d gotten too used to paradise. 

Paradise, if it were possible in a place like this. Another wild call of the bats. They were getting close to the Creel house.

“I’m surprised I managed to catch you at all,” Robin said after a moment of comfortable silence. It was getting too uncomfortable to stay silent for long, with the ominous hum of throbbing life underneath their feet. “You know, me being Frankenstein’s monster and all.”

“What-oh,” Nancy laughed along. Right. The monster’s fear of fire. She playfully shoved Robin’s shoulder, too far into the motion to remember that they’d never done that before. It felt good to touch Robin anyway, even through her thick army jacket. “I guess I gotta admit to a childhood fear, right? To make it even?”

“If you want,” Robin said. She clearly meant hell yes. Nancy sighed and shook her head, startled a bit when a lone bat flew overhead. It paid no mind to them - clearly on route somewhere else. “But you don’t - I don’t wanna force you to do anything, Nance, I-”

She cut herself off and pressed her lips together resolutely. Nancy focused on the treeline but she could feel Robin’s eyes on her cheek. As if she were studying. Or appraising.

“I’m really glad we’re friends,” Robin admitted softly. “I don’t have many. You probably know that. So - I know I’m on par with a gnat buzzing around your ear but I’m really really glad we’re friends. You don’t have to take any of my stupid shit to heart.”

“Robin,” Nancy began. She was at a loss for words, though, because she finally relented and looked over at Robin. There was that crystalized feeling again, buried in her eyes. On the tip of her tongue. On the tip of Robin’s tongue, really, and - 

God damn, Nancy wanted to search for that. 

She was proud of herself for not stopping flat out at that thought and instead trudged along like nothing was wrong. Her mind was beginning to melt out of her ears. It must be the toxic gas of the Upside-Down. Must’ve been. Head trauma, maybe. Lack of sleep.

“I’m really glad we’re friends too, Robin,” Nancy replied. It sounded distant in her head. She shook out the earworms and started again, this time for real. “You’re not a gnat. You’re not annoying. You’re a good person, and I - I guess I should be thanking the Upside-Down, then. Because without it, we never would’ve met.” Nancy knocked the side of her boot into Robin’s shoe and then effectively decided to get buried alive at the earliest possible convenience. Her face flushed with red hot embarrassment. Robin took no notice.

“You really think so?” It was so light. 

“Yes,” Nancy said, and she found herself meaning it. No annoyance or anger for Robin any longer. But perhaps that would’ve been easier. It was the simpler route. Instead her stomach swirled with an altogether difference feeling, one that pooled in the bottoms of her feet. Inwardly, she sighed. Fuck me. “I used to be terrified of octopi.”

Robin was silent and then she let out a burst of crazed, shocked laughter.

“Okay, first: I’m pretty sure it’s octopuses,” Robin said, listing on her fingers. “And second: why the hell were you afraid of octopuses? Have you ever even seen one before?”

“In picture books,” Nancy defended her younger self fiercely. ��And no, it’s octopi. I know it’s octopi.”

“Why would it be octopi?” Robin asked. “That’s just stupid. It’s octopuses, no doubt.”

“Yes doubt,” Nancy retorted. “I know it’s octopi. I looked it up when I was eight.”

“So that you could address them properly, should the situation arise when you meet one and die an untimely death at its eight limbs?” Robin asked, flailing out her arms in a terrible impression of an octopus. She looked so silly Nancy couldn’t help but giggle, hand over her mouth and everything.

“Hey, I didn’t make fun of you this hard for the fire thing,” Nancy protested. “And I could’ve! I could’ve pressed about the campfire story!”

“Later,” Robin promised. When she looked back over her shoulder, Nancy found herself believing it. Believing that there would be a later - perhaps many laters with Robin. A whole future of conversations like these. She didn’t think that sounded so bad.

Suddenly they were overwhelmed with light and sound. The trees broke to reveal the Creel house directly across the street, surrounded by a lightning storm and a swirling parade of bats. Nancy swallowed down all feelings. It was the eleventh hour. As they silently broke rank together to rush out towards the playground, Robin glanced behind herself one last time to make sure Nancy was following.

It’s octopi, Nancy mouthed. 

And Robin’s responding grin was worth every second spent in this hellhole. 

(Author's Note: HELLO YES! i am back!! i cranked this out in an hour, i was feeling inspired! god i missed you guys so much <33)

[zhongliologist]

Breeding Kink | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!! 

Words: 4.6k

A/N: So uh yeah, this was mainly inspired by hcs from @genshin-spice​!! thank you for the ideas sjkdha as well as the asks I have received! I decided to combine them into one fic bc im lazy i hope u like it jkasdha

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. 

*

It was in the dead of the night.

Zhongli breathed in; eyes dilated.

His study was quiet—yet all he could hear was his heart beat pounding violently against his chest and the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

He couldn’t take it.

In Zhongli’s mind was an image of you in positions you have never been before. He could see you on the bed as he pins you down, ass high up as he gripped on your waist until bruises form. He could see sheathing himself completely into you, reeling at the erotic sounds which escaped your lips as he roughly thrusts in and out.

The grip of his hand tightened, moving up and down his enlarged shaft. Zhongli grunted as he felt his digits grind on a particularly sensitive spot. It would’ve been better if it was your mouth instead of his hands.

“YN….! Nghh…!”

Ignoring his locks thrown askew by his movements, Zhongli continued to see you in his mind’s eyes. Precious, beautiful; more than any stone or gem in the world. He’ll spread you out, pleasuring you and worshipping your body with his tongue. In every turn, he would leave his marks, proving that you were his and his only.

“Ahh…darling…I just…want to…!”

He growled, speeding up the movement of his wrist. He could feel himself grow even bigger as scales begin to form on his skin, as his nails turn sharper.

Zhongli wanted you. He wanted to pound into wildly until you keen and clamp around him; until you become a staggering mess of moans and drool. You will be quivering as your orgasm washes over you, yet he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t the time to stop.

“Ughh….haa…! YN….! YN…! I’m close—!”

He’ll push even deeper, harder; making sure the tip of his cock reaches your womb. And that’s when he’ll release his warm seed into you, filling you up until his cum is dripping from your hole, until you were spent on the bed and still shaking from the intensity.

That’s not enough, Zhongli could sense something growl in him. Not enough.

You will be screaming with oversensitivity as he pushes inside you once more, his dick still hard as he keeps on going. You will be muttering his name ceaselessly as he fills you up, cumming inside you over and over again until you get pregnant with his child.

Yes.

The image of you on the bed, exhausted from his relentless pounding as cum leaks from your hole, surely pregnant with his child burned vividly inside his imagination. It sent an overwhelming surge of pleasure towards his cock; urging him to climax.

“Nnnh—!”

In one move, Zhongli orgasmed, his cum spurting to his stomach and clothes as he breathed in heavily. He tried to calm himself down yet the image of him cumming inside you was still so fresh that his excitement wouldn’t subside.

“…what is…this…?”

It seemed like his libido has peaked dramatically in the past few weeks. Normally, he could withstand not having any sexual activity for some time, especially when you were out of town, but for some reason, all he could think about right now was fucking you senseless.

He touched the scales on his arm. It also hasn’t escaped his notice how he would often show some of his draconic features in the midst of it all. There was only one thing that he could think of.

“Could it be…”

Wait. He hasn’t been in heat for more than a thousand years, and for it to appear right now is mind boggling to the say the least. But he could no longer see this at any other angle. It must have been triggered by your presence, in some way or another. The beast in him knew how he was madly in love with you, how he had taken you as his mate, and now it wants nothing but for you to bear him offspring.

Zhongli sighed. This is a matter that should be discussed first with you. Yet his heat is upon him and if it comes to it, he had to protect you even from himself. Zhongli sighed again heavily and gazed at the wedding ring on his left finger.  

“It seems the need arises to arrange necessary measures.

*

“Please explain to me, in some way or another,” you started. “…why I cannot see my own husband in my own house.”

With brows furrowed and arms on your hips, you glared at the offending ‘guards’ loitering around outside the bedroom as they looked at you with a panicked expressions. There were a few familiar faces like QiQi, who was busy staring at nothing and Xiangling, who simply came to visit to deliver freshly cooked dishes from Wanmin Restaurant.

“Dr. Baizhu!” you called out when you were only met with silence.

Giving you a worried look, the doctor tried to calm the situation but to no avail.

“Look, YN…” the doctor hesitated. “Mr. Zhongli is under…certain conditions which makes it dangerous for you to go anywhere near him.”

You blinked, mouth frowning as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. “And what would that be?”

Travelling around Teyvat for quite some time, you had only returned to Liyue and to your husband (of a year and a quarter) today; and to be denied access to somehow greet and touch the person you had missed so dearly only irked your frustration. You were determined that the first thing you do when you return was to run straight into his arms, kiss him hard and talk to him about an important matter in both your lives, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor.

“Well,” Dr. Baizhu struggled to reply, as he was under the implicit instruction not to reveal the exact details. “All I can say is that it’s a condition where Mr. Zhongli wouldn’t be able to act properly around you. But please don’t worry, it’s not contagious and it’ll be over in a week or so.”

If anything, the vagueness only alarmed you. What illness could possibly make him lose control like that? Zhongli, as you knew him, was always someone who regarded himself with propriety and dignity. If this condition can weaken him like that, you were all the more worried.

“I…If that’s the case, then I really need to see him,” you insisted, now concern etched into your eyes. “I can’t just leave him alone like this.”

Stand firm, Dr. Baizhu. My wife is especially stubborn—he had been warned a few days before, dismissing it as something a husband would normally say about his wife, but now that he was face to face with that stubbornness he had been warned with, it seemed like he had underestimate you.

“YN…I…” he breathed in as he placed a consoling hand on your shoulders. “I would not recommend seeing Mr. Zhongli at this point—”

“Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right?” you interrupted. “I just want to see him.”

The doctor gazed down at you with an apologetic look, fully understanding why you were desperate in your request. You haven’t seen him for quite some time, and to find him sick and unable to see him when you finally returned—he could understand. He really does. That’s why, in the end, the doctor relented. He’ll face the consequences later on.

“Alright,” Dr. Baizhu sighed. “Just a peek and nothing more, got it?”

Upon hearing his words, your face brightened up in a flash. “Thank you, doctor!”

As he led you to the door of the master’s bedroom, you followed silently behind; watching as Dr. Baizhu unlocked the door from the outside—why would they need to lock it anyway, you thought—and pushed the door slightly ajar.

You pursed your lips.

In a breath, you knocked the doctor aside and went in as quickly as you could; shutting the door behind you as he protested from the outside. Apologies, Dr. Baizhu…!

Swiftly recovering from the sudden action, you noticed that it was dark inside; the windows shut and heavy curtains blocking any stray sunshine. The only source of light was the single glowing lantern at the far end of the room which only illuminated half of your face and offered a simple silhouette of your husband sitting on the bed.

You breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Right. I don’t really have much time, and I already duped Dr. Baizhu, so I’ll make this quick. I just want you to know that I’m back, and while I do have something I want to talk about with you, I’ll wait till this gets sorted out. So if you need anything, I’m right here—”

You halted; ears trained at the low growl you just noticed.

“…Zhongli…?” you asked, apprehension rising as you took a step forward.

“Why are you here?”

He finally spoke, yet instead of the sweet deep hum of his voice, this one was a lot harsher.

“What…?”  you asked, surprised at his words. “I-I just wanted to see you…”

“You’re not allowed here,” Zhongli continued as he rose from the bed, his frame seemingly much taller that usual yet the darkness had hindered you from telling clearly. “It seems Dr. Baizhu has failed to stop you.”

Brows furrowed, you spoke with a waver in your voice. “Zhongli, what’s wrong…?”

In a bat of an eye, he was in front of you, pining you against the door with his lithe form. His clutches were firm but gentle enough not to hurt you as you felt him look closely at you. Daring your eyes to open, finally, finally, you could see him.

His usual warm amber orbs were now glowing golden, his pupils turned into slits. You could see scales on his skin and horns on his head as he grasped your wrists with his clawed hands. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t too surprised. Astonishment was an understatement of how you felt at that exact moment.

“Do you now see what is wrong?” he snarled at you, his eyes narrowing.

Taking in a gulp, you tried to calm yourself. This is still Zhongli, just different. You were used to the unusual things happening around him because of his status as an ex-archon, but this just takes the cake.

“Wha—why are you half….half dragon?!” you exclaimed.

He could feel him make a disgruntled noise as his grip on you tightened. “That is of no importance. You have to leave before I lose my sense of control.”

You glared at him, finally realizing that he was still the husband you knew; probably just a bit frustrated.

“No. Tell me exactly what’s happening Zhongli. It is my responsibility as your wife to take care of you, and I can’t possibly leave you like this without knowing the full extent of the problem.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue and closed his eyes, exasperated at your mulish behavior. Why can’t you just follow obediently? He was really weak against you; even more so at that exact moment.

You can’t hold his cheeks with your hands pinned but you at least tried to console the obvious turmoil inside of him. “I’m right here, love. It’s alright…you can tell me.”

In an instant, Zhongli conceded, melting at your presence as he nuzzled himself on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He always loved your scent; amplified by his draconic instincts, it was even more intoxicating.

“As a dragon, I am in heat,” he whispered just below your ear as you felt him smirk. “Are you still willing to help me out?”

Heat…?!

You immediately flushed at the implication of his words. Sex was no stranger in your relationship even before you became husband and wife, but for some reason, at the suggestion of Zhongli being in heat, you became bashful like a giddy schoolgirl.

“I-I…! Of course!” you replied despite the tumble in your voice. “I’m your wife, it’s only natural that we satisfy each other’s…er…sexual needs…”

Zhongli made a low chuckle as he allowed his lips to graze your skin.

“Have you understood what being in heat truly entails?” he replied, unable to contain the intensity in his voice. “This is not simply an act of making love. I will fuck you. And I will fuck hard, YN. Do you understand?”

It was incredible how his mere words were enough to make your legs shake and your lips quiver. His effect on you has always been like this, but for some reason, in his half dragon form, it had only became more powerful.

“Z-Zhongli…I—”

“This will be different from everything we did so far,” he interrupted you. “I will be rough and relentless. I will bite you and mark you that you are mine and mine only. I will not stop even if you tell me to. I will keep on pounding into you until your womb is full of my seed, and even then, I will not stop. I will breed into you until you become pregnant with my child. Do you truly understand?”

You bit your lip. His words were swirling in your head like a thick soup of lustful thoughts; pushing you into arousal. If he was meaning to scare you, then it had surely backfired.

“I do,” you replied, as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And I want you to do all those things to me.”

For a moment, Zhongli stared at you; speechless and totally caught off guard by your reply. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to agree at all. You were supposed to be frightened, freaked out by his monster-like appearance, but here you are taking up the challenge as if it was nothing.

He grunted as soon as he realized you weren’t backing off. He knew who he had married.

“There is no guarantee that I can control myself later on, YN,” he cautioned you one more time. “I have no wish to hurt you, my love.”

You smiled at him, loosening his grip on your wrists and gently caressing his face. “I know, and I trust you.”

With a sigh, Zhongli stood up straight and scooped you from your place. Carrying you on his arms, he then dropped you unceremoniously on the bed with an ungraceful plop. He gazed at you from above; the power of his eyes never waning.

Because of how dark it was, you have never noticed that he was naked all over. But with the light shining just to the side, you could see his dragon features much more clearly now—dark scales scattered all over his skin, golden horns on his head, sharp claws for hands and feet, as well a tail which was moving back and forth. Shifting your eyes downward, you promptly bit your lip.

You begin to feel apprehensive. It was natural that his dick is much bigger than his human form, but could that even fit inside you? Would you even survive after being fucked with that?

“Zhongli…um….just a moment—"

“You have been warned, YN,” Zhongli finally said as he crawled above you, never breaking eye contact. “I will no longer hold myself back.”

Pining both your wrists above your head, Zhongli cupped your cheeks and captured your lips in a harsh yet searing kiss. His tongue was immediately against yours, exploring your mouth and licking your lips which he had missed for so many months.

He had your breath knocked out of you immediately, as you struggled to keep up with the rapidly electrifying pace he had set. His hands were all over your body as he kept his lips close to yours as if he was trying to devour you. Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to be rough.

Like a rabid beast, he quickly made work of your clothes; ripping them open with his sharp claws as he jumped from your lips to your neck—his favorite place to mark you. He knew every sensitive pulse to suck and nip at; tongue and lips meandering at every dip and rise of the muscles on your neck. Soon enough, he had left it with dark splotches of color on his wake, keening at his handiwork as if it had satisfied the animal in him.

In the sea of silken sheets and two bodies intertwined, you arched to his touch, loving how his mouth descended to your breast, flicking his tongue at your pert nipple. You could feel waves upon waves of arousal as he assaulted you lavishly with his mouth and lips—making sure he worships every inch of your body.

“Z-Zhongli…!”

You could feel his horns touch your skin, his tail twirling around your leg to spread them open; ready for him when he crosses that bridge. It didn’t help how he kept on tracing your skin with the blunt side of his claws, fascinated at how your flesh dipped; at how he was only one push behind before he draws out blood. But you were becoming increasingly sensitive the more he kept on marking your whole body and it only served to add a distinct kind of pleasure from his mouth and tongue.

He was right, this was different from everything you had done so far. This was feral, animalistic and unrestrained. All his past gentle touches were gone, only to be replaced but such an intensity that kept you panting.

“I suppose it is time to get you ready for me.”

Releasing your wrists so he can spread you open, Zhongli gazed up at you as he tore off your underwear, tossing the offending fabric to some corner of the room. You both could see how drenched you were, with him smirking at you as he dipped. And just like he said, he didn’t hold himself back.

In an instant, his tongue was around your clit; sucking and licking at the sensitive nub. You arched on the bed, your hands on his horns as you tried to hide your lustful cries. He growled at you from below, the vibrations eliciting a novel sensation which only made you even more aroused.

“Zhong…li…p-please! Wait—”

You were rapidly getting lightheaded from the sheer pleasure of his tongue, your body shaking as he swiped up your cunt, saving every drop of your juices leaking out. He kept your legs open with his strong claws, making you unable to do anything but submit to his ministrations.

Since he couldn’t insert his digits in you, he pushed his tongue into your hole; the wriggling sensation making your eyes turn. It was incredible how he felt; face buried in your cunt as he kept on licking you like a starved man.

“Oh god….! Please…please! Zhongli! I’m close…! I—”

With toes curled, you shut your eyes tight as your mouth flew open for a loud moan. Each pulse of your orgasm engulfing you with pleasure as Zhongli went on without stopping; electricity running underneath your skin.

Just like that, Zhongli pulled away and straddled you between his legs. His burning feral eyes looking down on you as he pumped his cock right before your face. You knew what he was planning to do.

“Open your mouth.”

Unable to deny him despite how lightheaded you are, you opened your lips and slowly took him in, accommodating his large girth and trying not to choke. It wasn’t like this was your first time but you were sucking off a monster of a cock, and your mouth can only fit so much of it.

Twirling your tongue around the tip, you did the best that you could. You knew where he was most sensitive in and kept attacking those places with your tongue. Licking up his shaft and sucking on a prominent vein, you slowly began to enter a lull of arousal—all you could think of was sucking him off, loving how he grinds himself inside your mouth with a guttural groan.

With his claws gripping your head, Zhongli pushed even harder, making you deepthroat him and gagging at how forceful it was. He kept on fucking your mouth, his large dick hitting the back of your throat at every thrust. It seemed painful and it was, as tears streamed down your cheeks, but you were also getting off of it, your cunt once again drenched.

You loved how full your mouth was of him, how the pain and the pleasure melded together into an incomprehensible yet hedonistic sensation. He was rough but you loved it.

Suddenly however, Zhongli pulled out from your mouth, his cock bobbing on his toned stomach. He gazed down at you who seemed to have woken up from a trance with watery eyes and pre-cum stained face.

“That’s enough. I think you’re ready.”

Dazed, you could only watch as he returned to his previous position; rubbing his cock on your drenched cunt. Every time he touches your clit, you groaned in delight—your writhing figure only served to push him further into carnality.

Without any warning, he sheathed his dick inside of you in one sharp thrust as you cried out so loudly from the sudden stimulation. He was so thick and you were so full of him in an instant; your cunt quivering from almost cumming.

“Z-Zhong…li…! Nnngh!”

The image of you underneath him—back arched and face in pure ecstasy—Zhongli could no longer stop himself. You were clenching around him so tightly; the warmth of your folds urging him to fuck you senseless.

And he did. Pulling almost all the way out, Zhongli then pounded back into roughly; grunting at how you felt so good around him. He continued to thrust into you, setting up a rough and harsh pace as he chased his own high.

“You take me in so well, YN,” he whispered as he bent down, your leg hanging on his shoulders. “Hang in there, love.”

All you could feel was him inside you, grazing on your most sensitive spots; turning you delirious with pleasure. He was so big, stretching you to your limits and it felt so good as he kept with his unrelenting thrusts; your cries fueling him to push harder.

His lips were on yours once again; determined to have them swollen with his intense kisses. He had long been waiting for this—every night where he had only had his hand to relieve him; he would think of you in this exact position. But now that he could finally be one with you, he couldn’t help revel in the absolute bliss of your embrace.

With his mouth, he continued where he left off on your breasts; giving the pert nipples more attention with a little bite. You could only scream at the sudden stimulation as it paired perfectly well with his every violent thrust; once again nearing you to the brink of climax.

“Z-Zhongli….Zhongli…! Aah…please…I can’t! It’s…too much!”

“No…” he growled at you, his claws now on your hips, easily manhandling you as he kept on pounding again and again. “I won’t stop.”

Skin slapping against skin was heard all over the room other than your hoarse whimpers and his deep groans. Limbs trembling at the overstimulation, you could only grasp on the sheets as Zhongli pleasured himself inside of you.

You were close…so close to climax that it only took one harsh thrust for you to come undone; screaming and clenching around him like a vice grip.

In his eyes, you were so beautiful, so erotic as he watched your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. He can’t help but think of how you would look like filled up with his seed, how he would breed into you until you bear him children.

Zhongli immediately felt you tighten up; groaning as he also felt his own orgasm upon him. As the both of you connected glances, he pushed himself further into you, his pace becoming more erratic.

“Nghh…! Take my seed…YN…!”

He moaned as he shoved deep inside of you, his thick cock filling you up with his warm seed. You convulsed once again, loving the way he was cumming inside of you, your eyes seeing nothing but stars.

Breathing in an out, you tried to calm your wildly beating heart as he pulled out. You sighed at the sudden emptiness, already missing how he felt inside you. Trying to find his eyes, you were able to exchange glances as you laid on the bed, breathless.

 However, he only returned your fucked out expression with a smirk, which only became more devilish with the slits in his eyes.  He could see his cum beginning to leak out from your hole; the image like a drug in his system, sending him into overdrive.

“Did you think we’re already done?” he asked as he turned you around, your ass high up on the air. “That would hardly get you pregnant, my love.”

With those words, he plunged his still hard dick back inside of you who was keening at the sudden stretch.

“…mnn…Zhongli…!” you cried. “I…I’m still sensitive!”

He only chuckled at your protests. Leaning down, he took a bite of your shoulder, and then began to look on the indentations he left.

“Did you conveniently forget the fact that I am a dragon in heat?” he asked, leaving another set of love bites on your shoulder blades. “I will stop at nothing until you are filled to the brim with my seed.”

“…Z-Zhongli…wait…!”

Your husband once again moved roughly, his lips now busy with decorating your back with his marks. Tonight, you will be full of him—his scent, his marks, his seed—you belong to him and no one else.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly what he promised. Zhongli kept on fucking you over and over, and cumming inside you every single time. He seemed to have endless stamina, and kept on going for hours on end. The both of you tried every position possible—from you riding him to him fucking you on his lap—there was no respite.

It was when you heard the roosters crow and the bright singing of the birds that Zhongli finally stopped. Buried on stained sheets and throes of pillows, he finally collapsed beside you who was still trembling from your last orgasm—how many times was it? You had already lost count.

“Have you calmed down now?” you asked, still breathless as you felt him creep a hand around your waist to pull you into a tight snuggle.

Your husband hummed. “Yes. For now, that is.

“So there’s more?”

He kissed the nape of your neck now adorned by his bitemarks. “I did precisely tell you that I am in heat, darling. Heats do not last for a night.”

You sighed at his reply and then turned to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be ready then.”

With your words, Zhongli only chuckled, nuzzling against you. “It is still beyond me how you easily agreed. There is no doubt that you will be with child after this.”

A smile crept on your lips.

“Well, actually…that was what I was hoping to talk to you about,” you replied as you covered his arm with yours. “I was going to say I’ll be resigning from adventuring, and focus on finding work here in Liyue so that we can stay close like this.”

“Oh…” was all he could say as everything fell into its rightful places.

“It turned out quite better than expected, didn’t it?” you told him with a grin.

“It did,” Zhongli replied. “Now get some rest, we’ll continue once you wake up.”

[cherienymphe]

Gangsta’s Paradise (Michael Gray x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON BORDERLINE NON-CON, blackmail, loss of virginity, (for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that Finn Cole is taller than what he is okay)

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: an agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal...until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.

~

Soft lips brushed over your bare shoulder, even softer hands guiding the strap of your slip down your arm, fingers dancing along your skin. Despite the cold weather outside, your room was sweltering, and you pinned it onto the man behind you...the man who was currently unwrapping you like a gift. With fear coursing through your frame, you realized that in a way, you were a gift. A pretty little gift given to the big bad gangster in exchange for resources and protection and whatever else your family needed.

Your eyes fell closed, and you thought back to the day where your father’s desperation had first begun. Desperation that you had ultimately underestimated.

You had been nervous as you tended to the dishes that day, glancing at the clock every now and then. Cleaning and tidying up was how you coped, how you attempted to calm yourself. It normally worked, but today was an exception. Looking around, you realized that there was nothing else to clean, and with a sigh, you leaned against the wall, biting your lip.

The rest of the family had gone to Birmingham. They’d gone to handle...business, and you being the only girl in the family since your mom died, you weren’t allowed to have a hand in the business. It had been a great deal of bitterness for you for years, ever since you were old enough to understand what was really going on, but now you had gradually accepted your father’s reasoning.

Your father and brother and uncles had left early, taking some of their best men with them. You knew they only did that for serious matters, and you had been worried ever since you saw them leave. You had scrubbed the house from top to bottom, and now you had nothing to do but wait. It was fortunate that you didn’t have to wait for much longer, hearing several cars come down the driveway.

No one greeted you when you opened the door, faces pinched and sullen, and you knew then that things didn’t go as expected. The only one to acknowledge you was your father, the older man pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before trudging inside with the rest. You swallowed, conflicted on whether or not you should say anything, but your worry got the best of you.

“How did it go?”

Before your father could answer, you heard your brother slam his hand into the wall, the pictures shaking from the force.

“Peaky fucking Blinders,” he spat, and your blood ran cold.

Your eyes met your father’s, and he gave you a look as if to say leave it alone, but you were in shock. You had never imagined that your family would start doing business with the likes of them. Everyone had heard of them, knew who they were and what they did, and the thought of your family being involved with them in any way was a terrifying one.

Everything those men touched turned to poison

“Father,” you had chided as soon as you walked into his office moments later.

From behind his desk, he held a hand up, the other pressed to his forehead as he sighed.

“Not now, Y/N,” he said, sounding tired.

“You promised that things would be different,” you whispered, ignoring his words. “You told me that we would start becoming legitimate, legal. That we’d start doing things right.”

“Y/N-.”

“You promised.”

He slammed his hand down onto the wood, making you wince.

“They’ve got their hand in every cookie jar that matters. Thomas Shelby is a political man, now-.”

You cut him off with a scoff, folding your arms over your chest.

“Only a fool would get mixed up with the likes of them.”

He shot you a scathing look, and you swallowed, looking away with a sigh.

“We need their influence, their resources...their allyship.”

Your eyes widened at this, realizing that your father intended for much more than a one time business deal.

“You can’t be serious,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond right away, simply heaving a sigh before turning his attention to the paperwork before him.

“I will do my best to keep you away from all this, but prepare yourself for seeing a lot more of them, eh?”

He didn’t say anything more, and when it became apparent that that was the end of the discussion, you turned and left. You could hear your brothers and uncles murmuring in the kitchen, going over the day’s events, no doubt, and you made your way upstairs. You never knew exactly what it was that your father sold, but you figured that drugs and alcohol was the gist of it. He’d been in the business for a long time, and he’d made a promise to you that he was going to put a stop to it. That he’d start making money the right way.

Getting mixed up with the Shelbys, the Peaky Blinders, was not the way to go about it.

You understood the appeal though. They had power, resources, influence. With them as an ally, people would think twice about screwing your family over...but was it worth it? Was it worth the increase in violence? Putting the family in the kind of danger you could never even imagine? Was it worth the devastation and death that seemed to follow them like a plague? The answer was simple.

No.

Your father didn’t seem to care about any of that though. Day in and day out, for weeks, you watched your family leave early in the day and return late in the evening, looking more irritated than they did the previous day. It was safe to say that negotiations with the Peaky Blinders was not going as expected. The frustration and annoyance was plain as day on your father’s features, and even though nary a word was uttered to you about anything, you could feel the tension mounting in the air.

The first time you actually met someone of the infamous family, it was a Wednesday. It was a rare day within the past few weeks in which your father was at the house. He had been holed up in his study all day when there was a knock on the door. You had blinked in confusion, trying to recall if your father had mentioned anything about company, but you had only just begun to move when you heard your father’s heavy footsteps traveling down the hallway.

“Stay back.”

Normally you would have argued against him, especially with a tone as harsh as his had been, but something in his voice made you listen. There was something in his eyes, something in the way he walked that made you understand the severity of the situation. You remained in the living room, listening as your father answered the door, unfamiliar voices eventually joining his.

Two men who you’d never seen before joined him in the hallway, standing between the kitchen and living room. You had slowly put your book down, story long forgotten at the sight of the strangers, and your movement caught their attention. Both of them were wearing hats and long coats, but you could still tell that their hair was dark. The lankier of the two was a bit taller, a mustache adorning his face while the other moved a toothpick around between his lips, a faint smirk crawling onto his face at the sight of you.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” the taller one greeted, and you quietly returned the greeting.

Your father cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable.

“Arthur, John...this is my daughter, Y/N. She likes to look after the house when I’m gone.”

It was the truth. After your mother’s death, the house was where you felt most comfortable, and you were more than happy to lock yourself in its walls. Especially while the rest of your family ventured out.

“Darling, this is John and Arthur Shelby. I’ve been doing some business with them, remember?”

You fought the urge to sneer at your father, keeping your gaze on the strangers in your home instead.

“Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said with a tense smile.

Knowing you so well, your father could recognize the displeasure on your face, and if the other men before you noticed it too, they didn’t speak on it. You watched as they followed your father upstairs to his study, the younger of the two tipping his hat to you before departing. You remained there for a time before slowly exhaling, turning to make your way outside. You paid no mind to how long they stayed, spending the rest of your day away outside in your garden. Your mother always kept one, and you had done the same since she died.

That was the first of the few times you ran across Arthur and John Shelby. They were the only two that ever came by the house, greeting you with tipped hats and secretive smiles. You had grown somewhat used to their presence and faces, but not enough to be completely comfortable around them. You didn’t meet the rest of them, didn’t meet him, until weeks later.

“What?” you had breathed, staring at your father in disbelief. 

You watched as he rubbed his forehead, face pinched and eyes clouded over, telling you that he disliked this as much as you did.

“You’ll come to the next meeting with us,” he repeated, and you let out a sharp breath.

So you had heard him correctly.

“...why?” you eventually asked, sounding much calmer than you actually were.

“I know you hate them, but those Shelbys do have some morals about them. Things have been rather tense lately. It seems that we just can’t come to an agreement,” he sighed out, leaning against his desk. “...and I fear that things could become...rowdy.”

He didn’t continue, but you were smart enough to guess where this was going. When the realization hit you, your heart dropped, and you stared at your father like he was a stranger. The man you knew, the man your mother had married, would’ve wanted you as far away from any business dealings as possible. Somehow, the very same man was standing before you and suggesting…

“You think my presence at the meeting will make them behave...make them think twice about doing anything...violent,” you murmured, more to yourself than him.

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to, and you clenched your jaw.

“...and if it doesn’t-?”

“It will,” he argued.

“...but if it doesn’t…” you repeated with more force. “...then what? What will you do if they bring out the guns and razor blades right there? What will you do if they decide to use me to make you agree to their terms?”

Your father was silent, and you stepped towards him, eyes pleading.

“What will you do then?”

You watched as he straightened, standing to his full height as he looked down his nose at you. It was like you were looking at a completely different person, someone who wasn’t like your father at all. As you eyed him, you could see the stress on his face, the strain in his muscles, the conflict in his eyes. You’d had your suspicions that your family’s business with the Peaky Blinders was more serious than you could’ve imagined, but the toll it was clearly taking on your father confirmed it.

Even if you didn’t agree with what was going on, how your father went about getting what he so clearly needed and wanted, it was obvious that this was important to him. Since the death of your mother, very few things brought your father happiness. Very few things even halfway satisfied him, and hoping that this would, shoulders sagging with defeat, you agreed.

This was how you found yourself seated beside your father at none other than The Garrison. The pub was empty of any patrons or staff, only those important to the meeting present. Thomas Shelby, the man himself, was seated across from your father. He was as intimidating as you always believed he’d be, smooth voice having done nothing to calm you when he introduced himself.

John and Arthur, the two you were familiar with, were on his right while two more men by the name of Isaiah and Finn were on his left. They were one short in comparison to your father, his two brothers, your two brothers, and yourself, but an empty chair told you that one more was on their way. Seeing that the meeting had already begun, you deduced that their tardiness wasn’t a concern. Considering the nature of the meeting, a whole bunch of words that could be summed up into “who controls what”, you envied the mystery person’s absence. 

For minutes now, you had contributed nothing, but then again… That wasn’t your purpose. No, the purpose of your presence was to keep the men in line. Your entire purpose was to play on what few morals the men had, and you fought to hold in a laugh. With every member of your family being armed, you wondered if your father even believed this would work. Too busy stewing over how your father had purposely put you in harm’s way, you didn’t take notice of the pub door opening.

You were only pulled from your thoughts when the sound of footsteps finally registered. Considering that your back was to the door, you couldn’t see their face, and you didn’t want to appear nosey or unprofessional or draw attention to yourself in any way really by turning to look. You only glanced up when he finally came into your line of sight, and you observed him in the same manner that you did all the others.

Something about him reminded you of Thomas, but his features were much softer, not so harsh. However, that made him no less intimidating. He wasn’t sporting a hat, dark hair neatly pushed away from his face, and something about him was different from the rest. On his own, he didn’t look like he belonged with the rest of them, and as Thomas explained that he was their chief accountant, you got the feeling that that was purposely done. He introduced the man as Michael Gray, his cousin, and losing interest once again, you looked away.

You played with your fingers beneath the table, wanting to desperately be anywhere but here. You had a feeling that you’d get your wish very soon, taking note of the change in tone in your father’s voice. He sounded happier, relieved, and you glanced up at him, his relief contagious. As you did so, your eyes briefly connected with that of the newcomer, Michael, and you quickly looked away. Even still, you could feel the weight of his stare, and you reluctantly returned it.

He didn’t look the least bit ashamed at having been caught, bringing his cigarette up to his lips, a thick coil of smoke escaping them moments later. His face was hard to read, and you felt yourself frowning slightly. You blinked, eyes trailing to your brother on your father’s other side, but he seemed invested in the meeting. Everyone seemed to be...everyone but you and the man named Michael.

When your eyes met his again, it was just in time to watch him lean over, lips at his cousin’s ear as he whispered something to him. His gaze held yours the entire time. You glanced around again, feeling as if there was a meeting within a meeting going on, and you were the only one to notice. Brushing off the unease you felt, you sat back in your chair, eyes on the table. It was hard to ignore the heavy gaze that pinned you to your seat, but you fought to manage.

Especially since it seemed that an agreement was finally being made.

However, that sinking feeling in your chest traveled to your gut, settling there as you watched John move to whisper something to Thomas. The man, the leader of this great gang, paused for the briefest of moments. It happened so quickly, and John was back in his seat as if nothing had happened, and while Thomas’ words did not falter, the way his eyes briefly flickered to you had you straightening in your seat.

Your eyes fell onto the blue-eyed newcomer again, and he took another drag of his cigarette. Every single one of them wore smug expressions, from the first moment you’d been introduced to every individual man, you noticed that they all looked as if they owned the world. Michael Gray was no different, but the way he looked at you made you want to be as far away from here as possible. As more tendrils of smoke left his pink lips, you noted that he didn’t look at you like he just owned the world. He looked at you like he owned you too.

“Everything does seem to be in order, but...there is another matter I think we should discuss,” you heard Thomas Shelby say.

You looked to him, watching as he stood, his family following his lead and your family following theirs. You tightened your coat around you as Thomas gestured for your father to follow him into the back. His absence made you nervous, but you simply stepped closer to your brother as you watched him follow the other man.

“Let’s wait outside,” your brother said, and eager to be out of here, you hastily agreed.

Your other brother remained inside with your uncles while you followed Matthew, the middle child of you three, outside. 

“You alright?” he asked you as soon as you were in the fresh air. “You looked a bit tense in there.”

You watched him light a smoke, and you glanced away.

“The other one...the cousin, Michael… How much do you know about him?”

Matthew shrugged, exhaling.

“Not much. Doesn’t say much at the meetings, mostly handles the money,” he told you.

That did little to ease you.

“Why…?”

You were just about to tell him the reason for your curiosity when the door to The Garrison came flying open. You watched in shock as your father came storming out, your other brother and uncles hot on his tail.

“What’s going on?” Matthew asked, just as alarmed as you were.

Instead of an answer, your father simply grabbed your arm, and yanked you along. You almost tripped over your feet, and you looked at your father like he’d lost his mind. His face was clouded over, eyes thunderous, and you wondered what had happened in such a short time.

“What-?”

“Quiet,” he hissed, sounding the angriest you’d ever heard him, and your eyes widened at this.

“...but-.”

“I said quiet! Get in the car,” he spat.

He didn’t give you a chance to listen, opting for shoving you inside himself. Your foot was barely inside when he slammed the door shut, and you stared at the window in shock. Matthew joined you and your father in the car while the rest piled into the other vehicle. Your confusion only grew as the car roared to life, and you glanced up then to rest your eyes on a familiar face.

He leaned against the door to the pub, a fresh cigarette held between his lips as he lit it. His blue eyes were focused entirely on you, even as the smoke clouded his view and your father began to drive off, he didn’t appear to be interested in anything else but your trembling frame.

You sat at the dining table in shock, listening to the muffled sound of your father’s angry voice that traveled from his study. He was in there with the rest of the family, and he’d been in there for hours. He had barely looked at you when you all came home, heading straight for his office as he ordered the rest of the family inside. There was an unspoken agreement that that did not include you.

Still, the uneasiness from the meeting remained. You could still feel the heated gaze of the blue-eyed man, smell the smoke that drifted from his lips, see the way he watched you as he whispered to John. You could see the way Thomas had looked at you as John whispered to him, and this was what made you press your ear to your father’s study door hours earlier. This was what drove your curiosity to discover just what happened when you and your brother left.

“He wants her,” your father had forced out, sounding like he was going to be sick.

There was a long pause, and you had frowned in confusion.

“Who?” your other brother, Nathaniel, had eventually asked.

“The Gray kid! Polly’s son,” he spat as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He wants her.”

You could hear your father’s heavy breaths, hear him pacing, and the confirmation that the discussion was about Michael Gray did nothing to quell your confusion. The silence that followed was loud and heavy, something unspoken in the air that you had yet to understand.

“...what?” you heard one of your uncles murmur.

Your father heaved a sigh, sounding much calmer now.

“They are...prepared to meet us more than halfway if we let him have her,” he slowly said. “Everything we’ve been working towards, everything we’ve been yearning for… It could be ours in a matter of hours if we let him have her.”

“No!”

Nathaniel’s voice could be heard before your father even finished.

“Absolutely not-.”

“Nathaniel…”

“You’re not considering this...are you? Father…”

“They’ve given us the day to think it over-.”

“What is there to think about? She’s our sister, your daughter, not some whore on the street,” Matthew interrupted, his words making you freeze.

Bile threatened to spill from your lips as you stared at the door, slowly backing away, their voices becoming less clear as you did so. Your back was pressed to the wall as the truth settled over you, and you suddenly felt foolish for failing to put it together sooner. Your stomach swirled, fear settling into your bones, and before you knew it, your head was in the commode, expelling everything you’d eaten that day. The tears had come shortly after, and that was how Matthew found you hours later, sitting at the table with tears in your eyes.

“I know you heard,” he said, sitting across from you.

You hesitantly looked up at him as he poured a glass of whiskey.

“You never could keep your nose out of things. Told you years ago to stop listening in on father’s conversations-.”

“Well, I’m glad I did this time,” you tearfully spat.

Matthew sighed, sliding the glass towards you.

“I think you deserve it tonight,” he said as you threw him an odd look.

Your shoulders sagged, and you gratefully accepted it, scrunching your face up at the strong taste that hit your tongue. The both of you sat there in silence for a while, listening to your father’s muffled voice, and you took another sip.

“What’s he going to do?”

Your fear must have been evident because his hand rested on yours on the table.

“Hey...he’s not going to agree, alright? He would never…”

You shook your head before he even finished, sniffling as you took another sip.

“I don’t know, Matthew. I don’t know,” you breathed.

Your eyes met his, and he frowned at you.

“These past few months or so… He’s been different, and you know it. He’s made deals before, but it’s different this time. Everything he’s ever wanted is so close. It’s different this time, and you know it, Matthew.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. You both knew that it was different this time, and you shuddered to think about what tomorrow would bring.

The next day came and went, much to your relief, and although you were glad that your father didn’t give into the Peaky Blinders, into what they wanted from you...what he wanted from you, it was still an unacknowledged elephant in the room. They still left the house for business, but you didn’t know if it was with the Blinders or not. You shuddered to think of how that conversation went when your father refused their offer. 

You got the feeling that they weren’t used to not getting their way.

It was three nights later, three nights since that fateful meeting in which you’d caught the eye of Michael Gray, that you left your room to get a glass of water. The house was dark and quiet, an unusual sight seeing as at least one brother was usually up late in the kitchen, drinking or having a smoke. That wasn’t the sight that greeted you.

The kitchen was empty of anyone else, and you drank your water slowly. You hoped that things would be better now. You recalled how relieved your father had looked over the past few days, how much softer his features looked, and you desperately hoped that it was because the family was finally on the right track. You made your way back into the hall, glass pressed to your lips, when you paused.

The only light in the living room came from the moon, it’s rays bleeding through the windows and onto the furniture. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to take note of the shape that didn’t belong. The shape of a man. Light flooded the room, and all of your breath left you, glass shattering at your feet.

You stared at him in shock, taking in everything from his neat hair to his shiny dark shoes. He was dressed much like he was the first day you met him, a dark grey almost black looking suit hugging his frame. He leaned back in your father’s chair, nursing a glass of Brandy, and it was then that you realized he’d been here for a while.

“Father!”

It was instinctual now, how your father was the first person you ran to. He didn’t respond, and you called for him again, cutting yourself off when a smirk slowly danced along Michael’s lips. Your mind whirled, and dread filled you.

“What are you doing in my house? Where is my father?”

A small chuckle escaped him, eyes twinkling with mirth as he slowly pulled out a cigarette. 

“What do you think I’m doing here, love?”

Your entire body froze, the implication behind his words clear, and you shook your head. You called for Matthew...then Nathaniel...then your uncles and your father again. The only thing that met you was silence, and your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden. The weight of your predicament fully settled over you, and you slowly shook your head.

“No,” you breathed in disbelief. “...no.”

The man before you didn’t respond, simply pressing the cigarette between his lips, reaching in his pockets for a light, no doubt.

“I don’t believe you.”

That was what you said, what your lips formed, but your heart and your head didn’t agree. Something didn’t feel right from the moment you woke up, and a part of you that you desperately wished would shut up did believe him. 

“Do you really think your father would allow anyone into his home without his knowledge or permission?”

You watched him pull a drag, smoke filling the air, and you stumbled back, running for the door. You didn’t hear him behind you, and for that you were relieved, but your relief was short lived. Upon swinging the door open, you were met with the sight of John and Arthur Shelby dawdling in your driveway. They appeared to be having a conversation when you opened the door, their voices abruptly cutting off at your appearance. John simply smirked at you from around the smoke in his mouth, Arthur tipping his hat towards you.

“‘Ello, sweetheart.”

With a shriek, you slammed the door shut in their faces, chest heaving with uneven breaths as the situation fully resonated with you. You stumbled back further into the hallway, and Michael was still in the same place as before, nursing a cigarette as you fought to figure out a way out of this.

“You can’t...you can’t do this,” you eventually murmured, glaring at him.

Michael simply fixed you with an even stare, smoke escaping from his nose, the cigarette dancing between his fingers.

“I’m a Peaky Blinder, love. I can do whatever I want.”

He said it with so much conviction that you knew he believed it, and the longer you stared at him, the more you believed it too. You warily glanced around, telling yourself that you might actually have to fight this man, might have to fight to protect what your father had wrongly given away. Even though part of you denied it, you slowly accepted that Michael was telling the truth. Despite the fact that your family’s business and even lives were at stake, your father had no right to trade away what didn’t belong to him.

Michael’s eyes never left you as you stood there, and you finally looked to him again when he cleared his throat. The cigarette rested between his lips as he slipped out of his jacket, and you swallowed at the dark look in his eyes. He took another drag.

“Before you do...whatever it is that you’re about to do…”

He parted his mouth, the smoke swirling in there for a bit before pressing his lips together, tendrils escaping his nose.

“You should know that I’ve shot men in the head with no hesitation. I drug my blade across a man’s throat once and reveled in the taste of his blood on my lips.”

You flinched, taking a step back.

“When Tommy first tried to scare me away, threaten to send me back to the village in which I grew up… I told him about a well there, that I’d blow it up with dynamite if he made me go back...didn’t care if my hands went with it.”

He finished his cigarette, putting the rest of it out, eyes boring into yours as he slowly exhaled the smoke he’d been holding in.

“I just knew it’d be worth it to see those pretty white bricks all over that pretty village green...and I meant every word of that.”

You didn’t respond, and his blue eyes slowly dragged over every part of you, taking you in from your hair all the way to your bare feet, lingering on the thin nightgown in between.

“It’s something about the violence, you see.”

His words unnerved you, and he continued.

“The violence, the blood...the fight...it does something to me. Gets me excited, all riled up, so please…”

He gestured towards you, eyes glinting with something that made your heart stop.

“Do fight back, hit me even… It’ll just make me want to fuck you that much harder.”

The tears finally skipped down your cheeks, and you stumbled back as he stood to his full height. With a shaky breath, you staggered up the stairs, running to the last room at the end of the hall, a guest room. You were quick to pull the window up, looking down below in worry. It was high up, that was for sure, but the alternative was worse.

Before you could even get a foot out, warm hands pressed into your stomach, pulling you back against a broad chest. A startled scream left your lips, and Michael’s hands traveled to your arms, fingers pressed into your skin as he held you tight. You leaned your head away from him as he pressed his face into your neck, breathing you in.

“Your father made a big mistake bringing you around us, eh?”

You couldn’t will your lips to move, too paralyzed with fear and nerves and anxiety for the unknown. The way he touched you was foreign, the scent that clung to him, a mix of cologne and expensive liquor and cigarettes, was foreign. The creeping sensation that blanketed your body was foreign. All of this was foreign, and more tears pooled within your eyes as the inevitable drew closer.

“He thought you’d keep us in line, keep us on leashes...but ever since I saw you, the only thing I wanted to do was take you like a fucking animal.”

You jerked in his hold, fighting to get away from him, but Michael tsk’d. 

“Let’s not spoil this, hmm? You seem like a good girl...if you catch my drift.”

More tears fell at his words, and he hummed.

“You do. You strike me as a well behaved lady of the house...and you girls like for this to be special, yeah? All gentle and loving,” he slowly mocked as he forced you towards the bed.

He shoved you onto it, knees pressing down on either side of you soon after, preventing you from going anywhere. Your tears soaked the sheet, and Michael’s fingers ghosted over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I want you to look at me as I fuck you.”

He gently turned you over onto your back, and you stared up at the man before you. Even in the darkness, you could see the blue of his eyes perfectly. They were bright and filled with a hunger that scared you, a hunger you had never been on the receiving end of before. Michael leaned over you, caging you beneath him as he pressed his forehead to yours, soon followed by his lips.

You’d kissed men before, but they were soft sweet nothings that could barely be called a kiss. You knew that if you wanted to marry well, contribute something of substance to your family, you had to be smart about your actions...your reputation. All of the men, realizing that you weren’t going to give them what they wanted, left. Accepting that your family and reputation came first, they always left, and it hurt every single time. 

But it will be worth it.

That’s what you constantly told yourself. After every heartbreak, every sneer, every harsh insult thrown your way about what a frigid bitch you were, you told yourself that it would be worth it. And yet...here you were...beneath a gangster, having your reputation ripped away from you by a man who stole and murdered and wasn’t decent in any way.

Life was funny.

After slipping out of his shirt, the flimsy material floating somewhere behind him, Michael guided your hands to his chest. Your trembling fingers danced along his taut skin, taking note of an imperfection. An old bullet wound, you deduced. The dark-haired man groaned into your mouth, pressing into you, and you could feel him hard beneath his trousers. The reality of what was about to happen seemed to slink around your neck like a noose, and you didn’t even realize that you’d started panting until Michael’s hand found your neck.

“I-I can’t- I can’t do this-.”

He shushed you, kissing you again.

“Behave...and I’ll be good to you. Breathe,” he urged.

You slowly did as he suggested, squeezing your eyes shut as his other hand pushed the smooth material of your nightgown up your legs. One hand was still on your throat as that same hand traveled to his pants, the sound of his zipper deafening in the quiet room. Your whole body went numb for a moment, ears ringing and vision blurring, and when you finally came back to earth, Michael’s hips were pressing against yours, nothing in between you.

He was speaking to you, you noted.

“...what?” you murmured.

“What’s your name, love?”

You swallowed, quickly darting your tongue out to swipe over your lips.

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, clearly liking the taste of it on his tongue. He nodded at you, drinking you in as he ran his eyes over your face, seemingly committing you to memory before sliding into you with one quick thrust. Your nails pressed into his skin, and he hissed, your own lips parting to let out a pained gasp. Michael held himself above you, a low groan escaping him as his forehead touched yours again.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he whispered, nose bumping against yours.

He held himself there for a long time, just feeling you. You weren’t naïve enough to think he did it for your sake, and you got the feeling that he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. When he did finally move, your chest arched upwards, unable to handle the unfamiliar feeling. His hand was still on your neck, and you wrapped your hand around his wrist.

The feel of him inside of you was strange. You couldn’t describe it, but you felt full...you felt stretched...and in a way, it felt unnatural, but the heat that festered deep within your stomach said otherwise. One of Michael’s hands was pressed into the bed beside your head, holding himself up so that he could look at you. You remembered his words, and too terrified to disobey, you fought to keep your eyes on him.

His face was strained with concentration, eyes flickering between your face and down to where the two of you connected. The hand that was on your neck slid down to your chest, thumb brushing over a heaving breast before resting on your stomach, pinning you down as he snapped his hips into yours. It was too much for you, too much at once, and your lashes fluttered. 

“Look at me,” he roughly breathed.

“I can’t...I can’t,” you panted, head twisting from side to side.

You could hardly focus on anything other than the way he was thrusting into you, taking you to heights you never knew existed. He called your name then, and you reluctantly met his eyes, the hunger in them making you shudder.

“That’s right. Eyes on me, love. Keep your eyes on me while I fuck you,” he murmured.

The smugness in his voice and face made you frown, a spark of anger in you.

“Do you fuck all of your girls like this? Huh?”

He didn’t respond, pink lips simply curving upwards into a humorous smirk.

“...or am I special because you get to ruin my life and go on with yours?” you shakily spat.

Michael slammed into you then, forcing a choked gasp from you.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. You just focus on milking my cock, hmm?”

You wanted to hit him, spit at him, do anything other than lay there and take his unrelenting thrusts, but your body seized before you could do any of that. Your toes curled and your stomach clenched and your body shook as stars exploded behind your eyes. You hadn’t even realized what a moaning mess you had become until Michael paused just to listen to you, just taking you in with something akin to awe on his face.

You didn't have time to catch your breath before he was chasing his own high, hands pressed into your waist so hard you were sure you’d bruise. Your nails dug into his wrists, choked moans tumbling from your mouth as you clenched around him again, just in time for him to spill into you, releasing a long breath as he did so. You clung to him, tears catching in your lashes as you laid there, mind whirling at what you’d just done.

You flinched, shrinking in on yourself when his lips brushed the corner of your mouth just before pulling out of you. You winced at the action, staring up at the ceiling as you heard him moving about. You turned your head when you heard the strike of a match and watched as he lit himself another cigarette, pants just barely settling on his waist.

“So what happens now?” you finally asked, voice low in the dark room. 

Would your father and brothers come through that door tomorrow, pretending that they hadn’t sold you out? Would they be able to even look at you? Stomach the sight of you? Fresh tears kissed your eyes just as Michael spoke.

“Well…”

He took a pull, exhaling the smoke through his nose as he neared you.

“...I’m going to fuck you at least three more times before the night is over.”

You sat up at this, paying no mind to the pain in between your legs as you stared at him with wide eyes. Without realizing it, you gripped the end of your nightgown, pulling it to your knees as if somehow trying to prevent that very thing from happening.

“What-?”

“...and then I want you to pack a bag. Just some things that’ll last you a few days. I’ll be buying you a whole new lot of clothes anyway.”

“Michael-.”

“You’re my girl, now,” he quietly said, voice firm as he stood over you, free hand playing with the strap of your gown as the other held his cigarette to his lips.

You shook your head, staring up at him in disbelief.

“I...no. My family...they-.”

“Sold you away without a second thought.”

Your heart clenched as he threw that in your face, and you turned away as he reached for you. His fingers pinched your chin, jerking you to face him, and you swallowed. He bent down, staring into your eyes.

“You won’t have to worry about that with us...with me.”

He took one more pull of his cigarette before placing it on the nightstand, tendrils of smoke escaping his nose and mouth just before he pressed his lips to yours, fingers pressing into your skin as he settled between your legs.

~

tags: @cocoamoonmalfoy @trinittyy @ziamslarry-blog @a531a​ @s-u-t​ @sunshinechim-98​ @callmechannel​ @lil-hungryy​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @scissorkidscult​  @madamerubrum  

[lonely-lost-soul]

A Pirate's Life for Me

Cover Art Done By: @fridaydev-draws and @friday-dsv (Dreamsmp x reader) Pirate Au! Love Interests: C!Wilbur, C!Techno, C!Dream, C!Sapnap, C!Quackity, and C!Schlatt

~~~

Salt burned your lungs as you tossed open your window with a loud bang, the seagulls perching on your flower boxes screeched in protest and flew from your window. “Fucking sky rats get the fuck out of here you heathens!” You snarled out the window shaking your fist at the bothersome birds, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore filled your ears as well as the chatter of the dock workers. You let the breeze blow back your hair and you heard someone calling your name from down below.

“Good morning (Y/n)!” You glanced below you and grinned,

“Morning Eret!” They waved back enthusiastically their dress spilling around their ankles, a basket of fruit was balanced on his hip. “Opening early today? I'm sure your patrons would be happy to start their drunken stupor early,” She held a hand to his mouth snickering and you shot them a look.

“If that gets more money in my pocket then so be it, I won't complain too much.” You shrugged, “Will I still see you later tonight?”

“Always do dove, how can I resist a drink from my favorite bartender.”

“You can’t it’s my charm.”

“Will the both of you shut the fuck up!” Another man’s voice growled from another open window, “It’s too early for your bullshit.” You saw Eret click his tongue but smiled up at you despite the man's protests,

“I’m heading to the market anyway. These fruits won’t sell themselves, I'll see you later.”

“See you soon!” You closed your windows once more, but not before urging your daisies to grow one last time. You tossed open the curtains allowing light to spill into your cozy home, a small carpet was in the middle of your room. It was a deep red and the pattern was made of gold yarn, aside from that everything in your residency was made of dark wood. Your shelves were littered with books and empty cups, and your old worn journal sat open on your desk. It was filled with childhood memories and you continued to write in it to this day, it was easier then, things were simple and everything was innocent and new to you. Now your days were filled with sea fairing idiots who liked to drink themselves stupid, but you could handle yourself, you always kept your father's dagger on your thigh at all times. Those who were frequent customers knew not to mess with you and those who were new learned their lesson within the first ten minutes of meeting you. You inherited the bar from your father, a kindhearted man who died a few years before today, leaving you with the bar and the dagger you had on your hip. You fished through your closet pulling out your clothes for the day, your dress was a gorgeous light coffee color and came down to your ankles. The bottom was flared and had dark brown panels on the sides, it faded inward to a light green then back to the coffee color. The corset around your waist was a dark brown with light green trim, you tied it tight with a small huff making sure your waist was sinched perfectly. The sleeves came down to your elbows allowing you to move your arms freely while making drinks. The top of the dress ended just below your collarbone, you strapped your dagger to your thigh before lacing up your knee-high black boots.

You thought back to your tavern downstairs, you were fortunate enough that you weren’t running this entire operation yourself. You ended up hiring help and they were like family and you knew they saw you as such as well. Most of the girls didn’t have a family of their own so you gave them room and board, also money, of course, you weren’t a terrible boss! You opened the door to your room, you watched Cecil, the tavern’s mascot trot out of Juniper’s room. The border collie liked to switch up which rooms he stayed in protecting every one of your girls when you couldn’t be there for them.

The first of your girls was Adelaide or Addie, she was one of the first to fall under your care. She was around your age, a motherly type, sheep hybrid, who cared for the girls, and always gave the drunk patrons with mommy issues a shoulder to cry on. Her long brown hair always hung down her back, she typically worked tables, served food and drinks, and always got a generous tip from patrons.

The next girl was Judas, a squid-enderman hybrid who was taller than you could ever wish to be, although intimidating you couldn’t meet a kinder woman. A jack of all trades the woman helped out wherever she could, black-ish purple hair curled around her shoulders and some people came specifically to hear her sing. Her voice was like rich velvet and lured men and women in like a siren.

Juniper was after Judas, a demon hybrid who was naive but you’d be a fool to underestimate her. She worked beside you at the bar, she can make some mean fruity drinks, Eret always preferred her drinks over yours. Freckles adorned her face and shoulders, her light brown hair curled down to her middle back, purple horns sprouted from the top of her head. You wanted to adorn it with gold jewelry and you were saving up to gift some to her.

Yeti was a human woman like yourself, she didn’t bother with those who were rude or obnoxious. She kept to herself only really talking when she was spoken to or when there was an opportunity to crack a rare joke. She typically stayed on the sidelines, out of the scenes and Yeti liked to help Judas decorate her sets.

Zig was a kind young adult, they got along with everyone who came inside the tavern. Soft emerald eyes drew people in, and they tried to make sure tensions within the bar didn’t rise and start a fight. There would always be one or two that’s just natural, but one look at Zig and his magic words and they seemed to disperse, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.

Vendetta was the tallest member of the group you had taken in, she was stunningly beautiful and didn't take shit from anybody. She was a guard dog if you will, making sure no one fucked with any of the girls in your tavern. While Zig did their best to keep people under control sometimes they couldn’t win. That’s when Ven would step in and ‘kindly’ escort them off the premises with or without force.

The youngest member here was Luvena. She was a moo-bloom hybrid with soft brown hair that sprouted flowers, her cow ears would twitch when she was excited and followed Addie around like she was her daughter. Addie took her under her wing and was training her to be a perfect little waitress, absolutely warming customers’ hearts. Luvena also loved to give out flowers, she was a fan favorite bringing new life into the tavern.

Cecil barked seeing his mama and scampered over to you, you poured food into his bowl as Juniper wandered into the hallway. Her head rested on the doorframe as she gave you a tried wave, “Morning (Y/n).”

“Morning Juni, We’re opening a little early today. Take your time I’m not expecting a big rush of bar patrons this early.” You assured her and she gave a sleepy nod,

“I’ll be down as soon as Ven’s out of the shower.” She yawned, “This beauty doesn’t come naturally.”

“Hardly darling you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” You reassured with a wink, Juniper flushed a little, happily laughing beside you.

“Just go wake the others will you, you flirt!”

Tossing your head back you gave a happy laugh heading down the hallway to make sure everyone was awake and ready to go for later. Addie and Luvena shared a room so she was in charge of waking up the youngest member of the tavern. Judas was already awake making breakfast for everyone when you headed downstairs, Zig was sitting on the counter beside her, they were the designated taste tester.

“Good morning Miss (Y/n)!” Zig chirped, the young adult hummed fondly, “Sleep okay?”

“Absolutely. What about you both? Thank you for making breakfast Judas.” You hummed fondly and Judas had a shy smile on her face.

“I slept well thank you.” Judas hummed softly, “Also it’s my pleasure. Want to make sure everyone’s healthy and alright.” She let out a little squeak as you wrapped your arms around her body, you barely came up to her chest,

“Judas please marry me,” You complained, “Your breakfast is always heavenly and you care for everyone. Please be my wife.”

“(Y/n)! Please.” She sputtered face turning a dark purple, Zig made a noise of protest and held his hand in the air.

“If she won’t marry you I will!”

“Zig! I’d be honored!”

Their entire face lit up with excitement and they hopped off the table to hug you tightly, you hugged them back and pressed a fond kiss to the top of their head. “I got to open up the tavern, you mind setting the table for me Zig?”

“Sure Miss!”

You sent Judas a kiss in the air which her face burned at, quickly going back to her cooking. You smiled eagerly and unlocked the door to the tavern, you shoved a bucket in front of the door to keep it open. The salty ocean air wafted through your nostrils and your eyes sparkled wondrously.

Today is going to be a good day.

Almost immediately a particular bastard caught your eye,

“You’re here early.” You mused raising an eyebrow,

“Heard you were opening early today sweetcheeks,” His voice was a low baritone, rough from years of smoking and drinking. Horns curled around his fluffy ears that stood out against his gruff exterior, he was a ram hybrid at its finest. “Figured I’d take the opportunity to get a special drink from my special girl,” He mused looking you up and down drinking in your figure. You scoffed at the retired man, he dressed like he was cosplaying captain jack sparrow, the gun’s in his belt just added to his costume and so did his large ruffled shirt, he was never one to forget his gold jewelry.

“Where’s Quackity?” You ignored him sitting him at his usual table, he frowned but you knew he was taking it as an opportunity to stare at your ass. He slid into the stool and put his feet up on the table, his boots were muddy but you could only control him so much. He was too much of a regular to get scared off by your threats and scolding.

“He’ll be in at his normal time. He’s not much of a day drinker, although can’t say I’m complaining. Having all your attention on me and all, considering I’m the only one in here. That being said, I’ll have my usual sweetcheeks.”

“Stop calling me that,” You scolded with a certain fondness that was reserved for the man. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite regular Schlatt,” you gave his ears a fond pinch and he bleated. He sent you a scalding look as you walked away, although the look soon fell as he got a good look at your ass once again.

“I’m your only regular sugar tits!”

“Schlatt feet off the table.” Addie criticized whacking his boots with a rolled-up menu, he rolled his eyes but dropped his feet to the floor. “You should know this by now, we go through this every day.”

“Yeah, yeah little lamb I’m on it. Judas here?”

“She’s always here,” She huffed spreading the menu down on the table. “Do you want your usual or something different? Should I get Quackity’s drink ready too?”

“Nah just stick with mine, for now, tell Judas I’d like to see her.”

Addie clicked her tongue and placed her hand on her hip, “fine. But if you’re just going to grossly flirt with her as you do with (y/n), then keep it to yourself.”

“You’re not the boss of me. Just because you look like an old hag-” The way she glared at him sent a chill down his spine, “shit babe take a joke will you.”

Eventually, people began to file into the tavern, as the morning faded into the afternoon and then into the evening. The tavern was bustling with life, Judas’s elegant voice traveled through the crowds and her voices seemed to float above the voices. Quackity joined Schlatt by his side seemingly irritated by a conversation they were having, Schlatt was about five drinks in at this point, which was much less than his usual, and Quackity on his second.

“What are they talking about?” Luvena asked swinging her legs as she sat on the bar beside you. Her moobloom ears twitching every so often as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation,

“Vena it’s impolite to eavesdrop.” You scolded bopping her on the head lightly, she whined and rubbed the top of her head.

“I wasn’t!” She argued as you rolled your eyes, you looked over at the two men to find Quackity looking over at you. His hand was raised in the air, one finger was up summoning you to get him another drink.

“I’ll be back, why don’t you talk to Ven while I’m gone. She’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Good thing she doesn’t want to babysit your ass either, now shoo.” You motioned her to hop off the bar and she did so with a long, dramatic sigh. You looked over at Ven who gave you a silent nod, letting you know she’d watch out for the youngest member of your band of misfits. Meanwhile, you grabbed Quackity another drink and walked over to the two men at the table, “Someone order a drink?”

“Aye! Mamacita! Fancy seeing you here.” Quackity purred a bright smile spreading across his face seeing that you were the one to deliver his drink,

“Hey Big Q,” You greeted placing the drink in front of him, “You doing okay?”

“Better now that an angel walked into my sight,” He flirted and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true! You always brighten my day you know? Ow!” Schlatt hit his ex-first mate over the head,

“Take a breath lover boy. Thanks for the drink sugar tits.”

“You’re welcome, what were the both of you talking about if I may ask.” You hummed grabbing some of Schlatt’s empty glasses, an uncharacteristic frown came over both their faces. “Oh? Touchy subject?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just dishing out some old problems, most of which are better left unsaid.” He aimed that statement at Quackity, his jaw seemed clenched and Quackity’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

“Well I just want to remind the both of you,” You passed the tray of empty glasses over to Addie as she walked by, she took them swiftly. You grabbed the side of both their heads and pressed them against your chest, not that you knew but both men’s flushed to the tips of their ears. “No physical fights are allowed in this tavern. If one starts I won’t hesitate to kick your fucking asses. Got it?” They looked over your chest and locked eyes with one another, after years on the sea they could read one another’s facial expressions rather easily and at that moment they shared the same thought,

‘They should fight more often.’

“I said, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” The repeated simultaneously as you pulled away,

“That’s what I like to hear-”

“(Y/n)!” Vendetta’s velvety voice called out from behind you, you turned and saw a group of newcomers file into your bar. Your body tensed momentarily,

Pirates.

Schlatt turned his head to follow your gaze and he tensed from behind you, “fuck me.” He growled and Quackity raised an eyebrow at his captain, he turned to look over his shoulder and his face lit up.

“Sapnap!”

The pirate who had a white bandana tied around his forehead glanced over at him and a smile lit up across his features. “Quackity? Is that you?”

“My man!” He stood up from his chair heading over to wrap the man in a hug, “I haven’t seen you in years, man.” You zoned out of their conversation eyes locking with a few of the other pirates who walked into the tavern. Vendetta and Addie both greeted them, but everyone who was under your care knew to keep their guard up around pirates. From what you could gather there seemed to be two crews, a crew of what only seemed to be two, Sapnap was included. The fire demon was still talking with Quackity, while the other man took in the view of the tavern, he had shaggy blonde hair, and had a few scars across his face. A porcelain mask sat on top of his head, a forest green cloak was around his shoulders, his hood was lowered around his neck. A sword was strapped tight against his hip and there was another dagger that seemed to be tucked against his side. His eyes gazed towards you and he winked teasingly with a coy smile, you scoffed looking over at Addie.

“Seat those two gentlemen yeah? Be careful, I’ll tell Ven and Yeti to keep an eye.” Addie looked at you, concern written on her soft features but she nodded. While Addie departed, you noticed Ven talking with the other group. Luvena was hiding behind Vendetta’s long legs, although a tall blonde boy seemed very keen on talking to her. You smoothed out your dress and moved towards the group of three, you eyed them up casually. The blonde looked to be around Luvena’s age, he had a shit-eating grin on his face and his uniform matched that of the second tallest in the group. The second tallest was clad in a light blue jacket with large golden buttons on the red collar. He had a cream-frilled shirt underneath and a black belt holding up his brown slacks, those were tucked into black boots. On his back seemed to be a guitar and was the only one of them not holding a weapon, but you knew better than to assume with pirates. His curly brown hair seemed to bounce every time he talked, he seemed to be the ringleader but there was no doubt that the real ringleader was the hybrid standing beside him. He was taller, on par with Vendetta in height, he had long pink hair that was tied in a ponytail on top of his head. A few pieces framed his face elegantly, there was no doubt he was the captain of the little crew that was in your tavern. He had a white shirt on with a deep low cut ‘V’ it showed off a good portion of his scared chest, around his shoulders sat a deep red jacket but his arms were outside of it and crossed over his chest. He seemed content on letting his second in command do all the talking, his red eyes were the only ones to meet yours. His head tilted upwards and before Vendetta could stop him he walked over towards you,

“You own the tavern?” His voice was a low monotone and it sent an array of pleasant chills up your spine.

“I do,” You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest, “Names (Y/n). You are?”

“Captain Technoblade of the ship Odyssey, I was hoping you had a few rooms and a table available. My brothers and I are pretty exhausted, we’ve been sailing all night.”

Brothers, they certainly didn’t all look alike, but then again you certainly had a mix of girls in your care. Your tongue swiped against the top row of your teeth, “Why don’t you and your brothers take a seat at the bar for now. Juniper will be happy to serve you, I’ll see if we have some free rooms available.”

“Thank you, once you return I’ll introduce them to you if you’d like,” Technoblade bowed his head before turning back to get his brother’s attention.

“I’d like that thank you.” You gave a nod motioning for Vendetta to follow you as you slid behind the bar with Juniper, Judas had also taken a spot sitting on the bar. You figured you’d let her know as well, considering she was another adult figure in the group. You knew either Juniper or Judas would fill in Addie considering the three were close. “Ven, can they be trusted?”

“Not too sure about the masked man, the one Quackity seems to be familiar with seems decent enough. He’s a fire demon though, could smell him from miles away, we all just need to be cautious.”

“Agreed,” Juniper added tapping her finger on her chin. “We should just try to curb all fighting if at all possible, what did the captain of the other group ask you?”

“They want a room, I’m about to check to see if we have availability. Thoughts on that?”

Judas let out a low hum her eyes followed both sets of pirate groups around the tavern, “I say if we have availability let them stay. They seem harmless so long as we don’t mess with them, which we’d never do.”

“Plus I can always stay awake to keep an eye on them.” Vendetta tapped her nails against the table,

“You sure.”

“As if I’d let anything happen to any of you, you’re my family.”

You all smiled softly, and you noticed Judas’s eyes widen, “Zig! Get that out of your mouth this instant!” She shot up from her spot and over to the person in question. The three of you laughed fondly at the nonsense, meanwhile, Juniper saw the three brothers sit at her bar. She moved away from you to greet them, you immediately could tell she was taken with the second eldest brother.

He seemed to be an absolute lady killer.

Vendetta ruffled your hair before going back to stand at her place by the door to keep the peace. You headed up the stairs to the rafters to check on the extra rooms you had, “Excuse me?” You tensed visibly turning around to face the man in all green. His eyes were mesmerizing, a fierce jade green to contrast his cloak, “Do you happen to have two rooms available?” The man held up two fingers to clarify his request,

“Do you usually start introductions with a blatant request like that?”

He chuckled a smile spreading across his lips, “I’m Dream and you gorgeous?”

“(Y/n), it’s your lucky day I’m about to check and see if any are available. My tavern is a hot commodity tonight.”

“Well, I can see why,” he spoke and you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side.

“Oh?”

“It has the hottest owner around. Word spreads fast.”

You couldn’t believe this man was making your cheeks burn, he chuckled softly taking a step towards your figure. “Oh really, word spreads that fast on the open sea, Captian?” It was his turn to turn light pink, but he covered it up quickly with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

“I’ll get on that room for you and your friend. Take a seat, for now, this part is for guests and staff only you know?”

“So I have you all to myself?” He cheekily mused, he stepped towards you and before you knew it you were pinned against a wall. His hand suddenly brushed against your cheek, it was cold in comparison to your warm cheek. You felt Dream’s thumb brush against your cheek slowly, “You know...being on the open sea alone does something to a person.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You mused pushing your forehead back against Dream’s, “All alone with only your crew with you.” Taking his other hand within your own you slid it up to your hip, you saw his entire face turn red as he stared down at your chest. “You’re probably missing a little love in your life, aren’t you Dreamy?” He nodded dumbly, his eyes still not leaving your chest,

Perfect. You weren’t going to let some pirate boy get the better of you.

He let out a grunt of pain as you spun him around and pressed his head into the wall with your elbow, your other hand has his pinned behind his back. “This hallway is for staff and guests only,” You purred in his ear before letting him go and swinging your hips before heading up the stairs fully. From behind you, Dream’s face was a deep, dark red and he had to clear his throat. Dream wasn’t going to let you go after that, I mean look at you, tough and able to hold your own, it awakened something inside him.

After checking up on the rooms you headed back down into the main hall, three-room keys in your hand. Glancing over at the scene in front of you, you saw Juniper dancing in the middle of the tavern the flirtatious brother at her side. Judas was sitting beside Schatt and Quackity at the bar, Addie was tending to Technoblade and the blonde at their little table. Dream and Sapnap were whispering to one another in the corner but still seemed to be enjoying the show. Vendetta was smiling softly by the door, beside her were Luvena and Zig both playing various instruments. You noticed Eret was also amongst the crowd, she had a brilliant grin on his face, it was flushed pink with alcohol and you smiled to yourself.

It was peaceful, and for a moment you forget half the patrons were scoundrels or pirates.

That was until the man dancing with Juniper locked eyes with you, his eyes lit up and he spun Juniper off into Addie’s arms. She giggled snuggling into the mother sheep’s arms, you heard a distressed “Juni! I’m holding glasses!” Before your vision was overtaken by the handsome flirt.

“Hello love,” He hummed, “May I offer you a dance?”

You were about to refuse but you saw Yeti, who finally made her appearance as it was getting closer to Judas’s set, giving you a big thumbs up “I’d be honored.” You responded taking his hand within your own, he pulled you out onto the dance floor and you felt his other hand politely hover on the small of your back. He allowed you to lean into his touch as he began to elegantly spin you around the dance floor, you were almost embarrassed to say felt like a princess. “Maybe I could get your name?” You asked above the music, “Since it seems you’re my dance partner this evening?”

“Wilbur Soot my love.” He hummed proudly, “The first mate of the ship Odysseus at your service. Plus I play music on the side.”

“Well now you need to play for us,” Wilbur twirled you around in a circle,

“Maybe one day. If you give me your name?”

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was right.” You commented biting the bottom of your lip trying not to smile,

“About what?”

“You.”

“Ah? Already talking about me I see? Is my manliness and gentlemanly qualities that renowned?”

“Not exactly.” He picked you up slightly and pulled you into a low dip, “I was right in thinking you a nothing but a flirty playboy.” Wilbur almost dropped you, you squawked grabbing onto his neck. He began to laugh as you clung to his chest,

“Alright love. You caught me red-handed.”

Wilbur set you on your feet hands on your lower back, you were pulled close to his chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I get them for free hon. I own the place.”

“Oh...oh.” He paled a little, “I didn’t fuck up our chances of getting a room did I?”

“Nah lucky for you and your brothers, I have you covered, same with your buddies over there.” You motioned to Dream and Quackity’s friend, Wilbur’s face paled as he felt the chilled room key get placed in his palm. “What’s your little brother’s name?”

“Tommy.”

“Tell them both we serve breakfast free from 7 am to 10 am.” He nodded as you walked past, Wilbur meanwhile turned to look at Technoblade. It seemed he had his red eyes on the couple the entire time they were dancing. He held up a room key, it was labeled 205; Technoblade nodded his head before leaning back and talking to Addie once more. “Dream!” You called throwing a hand up into the air, instead of Dream, Sapnap looked up he nudged Dream with his elbow. The man was now wearing his mask, but at least you could tell he was looking at you,

“Well hello, darlin’ you must be (Y/n). Name's Sapnap. Dream told me about you, so you have good news for us I hope?”

“Pleasure, I'm sure he told you all about me,” He nodded, his eyes taking in your body especially your ass. “Got you both a room key, your neighbors. Across from the other crew of pirates. Just don’t fight and we won’t have any problems.”

“You mean those jackasses are staying?” Sapnap complained loudly, looking over your shoulder at the other crew members.

“You both didn’t think you were the only patrons, did you? This is a business after all.” You, tossed the keys their way, Dream caught it with ease and Sapnap fumbled it only a little bit. After they were in their hands, you waved them off with a flutter of your palm you turned around to go speak with Judas about her set but before you could take a step you saw Schlatt stumbling up from his seat. “Ah shit,” You knew what was about to happen, you weren’t paying attention to the ram hybrid so who knew how many drinks in he was. You felt responsible, for a while you and Judas had been trying to help Schlatt with his addiction. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly set him off for him to get this drunk, Quackity caught him in his arms with a grumble. The man was a drunken mess, and as you approached you could hear his slurred speech and could practically smell the alcohol on his breath. “Schlatt,” You spoke carefully and as soon as you got close Schlatt detached himself from Quackity and lunged at you. His head was buried in his chest, he almost purred like he was very happy to be there, you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. You were mindful of his horns but he seemed pretty eager for you to touch them,

“(Y/n).” He whined although it was muffled against your ample chest, “Why do pirates have to fuck everything up?”

“What are you on about Schlatt? No one likes pirates.”

“They’re gonna take you away from me, sugar. You’re my safe space, this tavern is my safe space.” You sighed listening to his drunken ramblings, you grabbed his horns and pulled him away from your chest.

“This is my life Schlatt, I’m not going anywhere trust me. Plus my family is here, they need me. So try not to worry okay?” You slicked back the hair on his forehead before planting a fond kiss there, everyone in the tavern narrowed their eyes at the scene. Even your girls were green with envy, at the sight of their lovely boss kissing someone who wasn’t them. He leaned against your lips eyes fluttering closed,

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Captian Schlatt? Or ex-captain if I remember correctly.”

“What?”

You turned your head and felt Schlatt’s arms wrap around your waist and held you close to his chest. The touch was protective and you felt your heart skip a beat, why was he protecting you, and why did you actually feel protected?

“Has the drinking finally caught up to you? Or was it the fact that you lost your so-”

Was that Dream's voice?

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled and you were shoved behind him into Quackity’s arms, you felt less protected. “I’m not that person anymore and you fucking know that,” Vendetta came to stand beside the both of you a hand was placed on your shoulder protectively. You knew she was desperately wanted to step in and you held up a hand to stop her.

“This isn’t good…” Quackity murmured, “They’re going to fight. Schlatt’s going to get himself fucking killed.”

“Calm yourself. We won’t let it get that far.” Ven grumbled eyeing you waiting for your signal. But you were lost in the conversation or argument, the two were having, you couldn’t believe Schlatt was a pirate. He was so...he just didn’t...he was a drunk okay? That didn’t exactly shout feared pirate to you!

“Oh, are you sure? I remember that look, that’s the look you’d get before you stomped someone’s lights out. No wonder your son disappeared under mysterious circumstances-” Dream was shoved against one of the poles holding up the building. He grunted and Schlatt’s arm was pulled back ready to punch, but his arm was stopped by smaller hands,

“Pardon me Mr. Schlatt but you know how we feel about fighting in our tavern.” Addie bubbled, she had a smile on her face but it wasn’t kind, it was full of warning.

“Get the fuck off me, sheepie. This doesn’t fucking concern you.” Schlatt shoved her away and as soon as his skin made contact with her body he made a sound of distress.

“(Y/n)...” Addie murmured quietly, your father’s dagger was embedded in Schlatt’s arm,

“Fucking hell you bitch!” He snarled baring his teeth, you glared at him twisting the dagger he yelled in agony.

“Touch one of my girls again and next time this dagger is going right into your back.” You ripped the dagger out, splattering the floor with blood. He grabbed his arm tightly and looked at you with slight betrayal in his yellow eyes. “I mean it Schlatt, Quackity take him home.” The man nodded looking at you longingly, he muttered a quiet ‘Sorry’ before escorting him out of your tavern. “You,” You glared harshly over at Dream, “Go to your room.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“Then find another play to stay.” You spat, he turned away and you looked over at Addie, “Are you alright?” Your voice turned tender as you cupped her cheeks. She nuzzled against your palms and nodded her head,

“I’m fine. You didn’t need to-”

“Yes, I did. No one messes with you. With any of you on my watch.”

The sheep hybrid made a little sound as her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped you in a tight hug which you accepted without hesitance. Judas walked over next and wrapped you both in her arms, pretty soon you were surrounded by your girls and Zig.

All of them had the same mindset: comforting both you and Addie.

It was good to be loved.

Wilbur watched the scene curiously and glanced over at Technoblade who stood up from his chair.

“I think that’s our cue to leave for the night.” He looked over at his first mate, Wilbur nodded in agreement grabbing his guitar from the chair beside Technoblade.

“They...Techno were they talking about Tubbo.” Tommy whispered to his brother, his brow furrowing in concern as they all climbed the steps up to their room, “You don’t think-”

“It just might be Tommy.” Technoblade tilted his head to the side, “Guess that’ll be something we ask him when we get back to the ship tomorrow.”

“Well, this trip is going to be way more fun than I thought.” Wilbur snickered lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag, before letting the smoke curl out of his mouth and up into the rafters. ~~~

Tag List: @v01dw4lk3rz, @jam-bombs, @abovenyx, @glitterydigitalart, @phoenixaesthetic19, @luluwinchester, @boiled-onionrings, @pastelmoonwitche, @roxy3457, @alovestruck-fool, @victory-is-here, @mack4676, @fiorenc, @theoneandonlyyeti, @bloodrose0723, @sandyy-woo,

[skiller0dani]

Broken Paradise | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut requests info wc | 9.1k summary | you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

song

another draft just waiting to be published. really obsessing over Spencer Reid.

also there's mentions of abortion, nothing graphic it's literally just a short direct reference and nothing else.

You always hear people say your past will come back to haunt you, you just didn't know they meant literally. You leaned back against the metal chair in the interrogation room, you've been in here for what felt like hours. You couldn't complain too much seeing as it's your fault that you're in here at all. You wished they'd come in and tell you something, give you an update, say hi, say anything. You seriously underestimated how maddening silence can be. You knew little about the murders the police were investigating, something about druggie women being found mutilated. The pictures they showed you were downright horrifying, you'd need at least one solid bottle of tequila to forget the bodies of those poor women.

The Las Vegas Police Department were a bunch of judgmental pigs, the only reason they'd brought you here at all was because you were from the wrong side of the tracks. Both of your parents were users, and if you were lucky, also dead. They probably assumed you used as well, and seeing as you seemed to fit the killers physical preference the police brought you in for questioning and also for your own "safety". But really you knew they didn't give a damn about your safety, they just wanted to know where you got your shit from. No matter how many times you insisted you didn't use, they kept pushing. When one male officer started throwing your parents in your face, you stood up and promptly broke his nose. That's how you landed yourself cuffed to the table, tightly.

"Oh thank you so much for gracing me with your presence once more." You smiled sarcastically as another officer walked in, wait he's definitely not an officer. The man who entered the room had cleanly cut dark hair, and wore an expensive looking black suit. Not the run of the mill beat cop that you were expecting. You bit back any other fiery remarks, if you wanted to get the hell out of here you needed to cooperate. Diana would be expecting you, not that you were itching to see her but after letter number 75 of her begging you to swing by- well lets just say that Spencer's mother was never the problem. You doubt Spencer even knew Diana was contacting you, which was good. You wanted nothing at all to do with him.

"I'm Agent Hotchner here with the FBI I need to ask you a few questions." This man was all business, you seriously had to fight the urge to fuck with him a little bit.

"I'd shake your hand but..." Your eyes flickered towards the table, where the police officer who's nose you broke had very tightly handcuffed you. In fact he cuffed you so tightly that your wrists were already raw and bleeding a bit.

"They wouldn't have handcuffed you if you didn't punch an officer. Did he hit a nerve?" The Agent's face was level, and gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You tongued the inside of your cheek, your foot tapping quickly on the concrete floor. These assholes were really starting to piss you off.

"He was being a dick, how many times do I have to tell you guys that I don't use? Are your heads filled with sawdust?" You snapped roughly, yanking away from him to lean back in your chair despite the biting pain in your wrists.

"That's not why I'm here Miss Y/L/N." Agent Hotchner said, his voice even and his eyes on you. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he could read all of your secrets because of the way your eye twitches when you're nervous. You hate these damn FBI profilers- wait.

"How's Spencer?" It's a shot in the dark, a very long shot in a very dark tunnel. Before the scumbag left you without warning, Spencer mentioned that someone was trying to recruit him for the BAU department of the FBI. The profilers. Spencer left and never came back, two guesses as to where he went. Your eyes locked onto the Agent's in front of you, and from the slight upturn at the corner of his brow you knew you got him. Spencer is here.

"You know Dr. Reid?"

"So he's a Doctor now, doesn't surprise me. Let me guess, he has PHD's and Doctorates in Math, Chemistry and something to do with Geography right?" You say as casually as you can and you can only hope this man is wondering how you happen to know so much about one of his Agents.

"Unless I'm speaking to Spencer Reid, I want my lawyer." You snap, leaning back. You know Spencer won't talk to you, and unless they have physical proof you're guilty of something they'll have to let you go.

Check mate.

//

Spencer couldn't ignore the questioning glances from his fellow teammates even if he'd wanted to. He watched you lean back in your chair from the other side of the one way glass, what are the chances that you are wrapped up in this case? You of all young petite blonde women in the metro area. The world was fucking with him, it had to be.

"She a friend of yours?" Derek's voice was the first to cut through the silence.

"No." One word answers were the safest route, the shortest diction would give little time for them to draw information out of the way Spencer was speaking. There was a tremble in his tone, he knew there was. Spencer prided himself for having little to no baggage behind him, but of all unopened suitcases- his previous relationship with you was the largest one.

"Really? Cause she seems to know a lot about you." Derek said, his eyes fixed on Spencer. The tension in the room was palpable, and suddenly it felt hard for Spencer to breathe let alone compose himself. After shoving free from the small viewing room, Spencer found it a lot easier to exist without the scrutinizing gazes of his coworkers.

"You hear her?" It was Hotch, with a patiently guarded expression on his face. Spencer and drugs wasn't an uncommon problem, although in the past his poison of choice was dilaudid. Now there's a string of drug related murders and a possible junky who seems to know a lot about him.

"Yeah, from before the Bureau." Spencer clarified quickly, and Hotch honestly looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"Think you could talk to her, she's made it obvious she won't talk to any of us." Hotch said, and from the tension building in Spencer's shoulders he can tell there's some bad blood between the two of you. Spencer took a deep breath before taking all of those unresolved emotions and forcefully shoving them down. Deep, deep down. It's time to do a job, there's a missing woman who needs to be saved.

//

When that door opened again, you thought you'd won. You thought they were coming to begrudgingly release you. Instead you were met by the big doey eyes of Spencer Reid, your first and last love. All the air was stolen from your lungs in an instant, the memories flood back and you can't stop them. The anger rises then, this is the first time you've seen him since he left you. The one person you trusted not to leave you did, he left like everyone leaves you. Like your parents left you. He's very clearly all business, his face hardly giving anything away as he swiftly reached down to unlock the handcuffs around your wrists. If you wanted to walk away from this without your heart getting broken you needed the upper hand.

"Heya baby." You smiled, you hoped that maybe it would disarm him. At least a little, but when you looked at him all you saw was a stoic and focused expression. Nothing? Really?

"I need to ask you a few questions Miss Y/L/N." Spencer's voice was controlled, even in tone. His voice... God his voice could bring you right to tears. You could still hear him saying how much he loved you with that stupidly angelic voice of his. Spencer was very quickly taking control of the situation and you did not like that at all.

"You know you can ask me anything, there's no secrets between us right Spence?" You leaned forward on your elbows, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing in your wrists. One of Spencer's biggest giveaways is eye contact, when he's upset or feels guilty he'll avoid looking into your eyes. You turn your gaze up to meet his, but once again you're completely disarmed to see him unabashedly looking into your eyes like it isn't a problem at all. Either Spencer has amnesia and forgot who you were, or what happened between you two doesn't hurt him like it hurts you. You refuse to believe it's the latter, he just forgot. Definitely forgot. Somehow he must have forgot.

"Nina Fredricks, have you ever seen her?" He slid a photo in front of you, you recognize her as the woman who was most recently kidnapped. Most recently being 12 hours ago so chances of her still being alive are unfortunately slim. You nibble on your lower lip, come to think of it you actually might have seen her.

"Yeah, saw her at Winchell's, little coffee shop on the corner of 5th? You remember right Spence? You used take me there all the time, I loved giving you head under the table." You smirk, but it quickly falters. Whatever training he went through must have stripped him of all emotion and turned him into a machine. Built only to solve cases and do nothing else. That wasn't the case however, you just didn't know how good Spencer is at compartmentalizing his emotions. He could only imagine the looks on his coworkers faces upon hearing you say that, at least he can just say you were lying to try and illicit some sort of reaction from him. They don't have to know that you totally used to slip under the table and swallow his cock in a diner full of people. They don't know about that side of him, and Spencer doesn't plan on changing that.

"When?" He presses on with the interview, and surprisingly you're forthcoming with information when you're speaking to Spencer. Even after all this time, he has this annoying power over you. This innate ability to get you to do whatever he wants you to, although you would prefer him to use this special ability in the bedroom. No! No you have to eradicate thoughts like that, Spencer hurt you worse then anyone else ever has. He hurt you worse because he made you think he was going to stay, and then he didn't.

"Few nights ago, she looked really messed up though. Winchell threw her out, definitely doped up on something. Before you ask, no I didn't see where she went." You sigh, finally giving up flashing Spencer the all too familiar 'you win' look. Usually a victorious grin stretches across his face, but not this time. Those times are over.

"Did you see anybody with her?" You're not entirely surprised that Spencer isn't writing any of this down, that stupid eidetic memory. You're fooling yourself if you think he forgot what happened, Spencer never forgets anything. Ever.

"Every detail matters."

You genuinely try to remember if anybody was with Nina, and while you didn't see anyone you remember shortly after she left the diner there was this horrible screeching sound. "After Nina left I heard what sounded like tires screeching on the street. Never saw a car though."

"Thank you Miss Y/L/N, is there anything else you can remember about that night? Anything that sticks out?" After a few moments of quiet contemplation, you shake your head.

"Am I free to go?" You ask quietly and Spencer shakes his head.

"Unfortunately we're going to have to keep you in protective custody. We'll move you to a more comfortable room, but you'll need to stay in the precinct."

"But why? I'm not a drug addict-"

"You are exactly this killers type, and we don't know if looking a certain way is more important or if being a drug addict is when it comes to him choosing his victims." Spencer explains simply, his mouth moving a mile a minute as he stands. When he turns his eyes back on you, you realize he's waiting for you to follow him. You stand and follow him out of the cold interrogation room to a comfier waiting room. It has a table and chairs, vending machine and a big plush couch.

"You can stay in here, we'll let you know when it's safe to go home." Spencer says, and this is when you finally catch the crack in his façade. His eyes flicker away from yours, trying to disguise the waver in his voice, the desperation to vacate the room as quickly as he can. But now that you've seen him break, even a little, you're going to crack him wide open. You won't let it go that easily.

"Spencer?" Your voice is soft, with an innocent drawl that Spencer can't resist. He turns his head to look at you, swallowing thickly when his eyes meet yours.

"You do remember me don't you? Once upon a time we were in love." You see the rest of his coworkers trying and failing to look like they're not listening. But it's not like you care if they do, Spencer will though but luckily his back is to the door. After a few moments of tense silence, he finally speaks.

"Of course." It's not the answer you were hoping for but it's an admission, which is more then you were getting earlier.

"Do you miss me Spencer? Miss me in bed next to you?"

"W-Well I-"

"Do you miss when I used to cook your favorite dinner every night when you came over? Do you miss how I loved you unconditionally?" Your voice was steadily growing more hostile, and you knew there were tears building in your eyes. This has all been building up for so long you know you can't stop it now.

"Y/N-"

"Do you miss being able to fuck me whenever the hell you want? Is that what you miss the most Spencer? You must not miss me that much because when you left I didn't even get a fucking call! You didn't even say goodbye, you just left!" You were yelling now, with tears streaming down your face. Spencer had slyly shut the door by now, he knew this was going to happen the second he saw you. He wished he could help you understand why he had to leave the way he did. He was trying to protect you, and he still firmly believes he's protecting you. Look what happened to Haley, what happened to Maeve. Spencer loved Maeve and he lost her like Hotch lost Haley, and Spencer can't lose you. Not you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to you.

"Please try to understand-" You never even let him get close to finishing his thought.

"Understand what? Leaving me? You said you loved me! How could you love me and then leave me alone? While I was pregnant!" Your hands flew to your mouth, you honestly never planned on telling him that. Spencer's eyebrows rose high in the air, and you can tell you just knocked the wind out of him. Spencer's hand reached back for the door handle, "pregnant?"

"Spencer I'm sorry I didn't mean to tell you that way." You tried to explain, and despite the fact that he'd abandoned you, you were dead terrified of him leaving again now that he was stood in front of you.

"Do I have a child you never told me about?" His voice is shaky, afraid. Now you can see all his coworkers heavily invested in your conversation.

"N-No, I...I got rid of it." You said softly, watching the mix of emotions swirl across his face. When his trembling palm curls around the door handle you launch forward to grab at his arm.

"I'm sorry, please don't leave. Not again-" But he's pulling his arm free from yours and turning out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

//

Spencer ignored the questions, he ignored the looks. His legs gave out somewhere near one of the couches. He stared ahead numbly, trying to make sense of what you'd just told him. Trying to somehow wrap his head around the terror of you being pregnant and then the grief of the lost possibility all at the same time. By now, JJ and Rossi had shooed everyone away from Spencer. Which he was immensely grateful for, the only thing he wanted now was to be alone. Completely and entirely alone.

Pregnant.

The word kept replaying like a scratched record, screeching in his ears every time he closed his eyes. Spencer pressed the balls of his palms into his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching him. Whoever it was, he already wished they would go away.

"Damn Kid, I didn't expect you to date such a spitfire." Derek joked as he sat down, doing what he can to ease the tension. Spencer didn't even bother looking up at him, his head stubbornly lowered and his gaze locked on the ground. Derek racked his brain for something adequate to say, but what was there to say? How could Derek find a way to make this right? Spencer just found out you were pregnant with his child and that you'd got an abortion all in the same 10 seconds. It was a lot to process.

"You gotta talk to her Spence." Derek's voice was less humorous this time. Spencer wrung his hands nervously, his eyes finally lifting to meet Derek's. A sharp shake of his head and a flash of the tears in his eyes and Spencer stands, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. Time to get back to work. Someone has to talk to you, Derek can't stand of someone crying by themselves like that.

"It's not really my place-" JJ tried to argue as Derek stood in front of her.

"Someone needs to talk to her, and Spencer isn't going to." Derek said, rubbing a hand down his face as his eyes flickered back to Spencer. Who was currently throwing himself headfirst into the geographic profile of the killer they're looking for, because maybe if he works hard enough the rest of the entire world will just disappear. Maybe if Spencer keeps working and does nothing else you'll just vanish from that room and he won't have to deal with this. It's not that Spencer wants you to go away, the opposite actually but there isn't room in his life for you anymore. It's not safe. Spencer would rather be alone for the rest of his life then put you in danger because he's lonely and misses you.

"Alright, fine. But only for Spence." JJ says, jabbing a finger in Derek's direction before reluctantly heading towards the room you're in. She glances back at Spencer, who has become consumed by the map in front of him. JJ can always tell when something is bothering him, he has physical giveaways. The way his shoulders are rigid as he scribbles something on the whiteboard, the furrow in his brow that lets her know that while he's working on something, his mind is elsewhere. The tremble in his palm from trying so hard to hold everything back, everything he doesn't want anyone else to see. To someone that doesn't know Spencer, he looks perfectly composed, his attention and focus completely on his work. JJ knows him well enough to know that his mind, and heart are sitting tattered in this waiting room on the couch next to you.

JJ creaks the door open, flashing you a smile that makes you absolutely hate her guts. Spencer probably has some puppy love crush on her, she's beautiful. Long blonde hair, slender body, stunning smile. Everything you're not.

"Hi I'm Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ." The way she's looking at you lets you know that she came in here to try and understand. You're not in the mood to talk to her or anybody else in this stupid building except for Spencer. You want to hate him so bad but you can't. You can't because of how much you fucking love him. The bastard.

"Look I know you're probably not all that excited to talk to me-"

"I want Spencer." You snap, and by the look on her face you can tell she isn't surprised that you said that. JJ chewed on the inside of her cheek, how does she say that Spencer doesn't actually want to talk to you?

"Dr. Reid is needed elsewhere right now, but I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"You don't have to lie Agent Jareau. I know he doesn't want to see me, he's doing that thing where he pretends to work on something while secretly obsessing over something else." You say casually, and the fact that you can pick Spencer apart so easily is somewhat off-putting to JJ. But that could be her unrequited crush on him shining through, deep down JJ doesn't like that some other woman knows Spencer better then she does. While you'd love to sit here and wallow in your misery, a much worse idea strikes you then. If you can't talk to Spencer why not fuck with the woman who's clearly in love with him.

"And the little twitch in his fingers, the slight clench in his jaw. See that? He keeps rolling his shoulders back," while everything you were saying isn't a lie- it's guaranteed to annoy her. JJ stayed quiet, she hated that she didn't know what the goddamn twitch in his fingers meant.

"He's tense, but there's more. He can't stand still, keeps shifting from foot to foot. It's driving you crazy that you don't know why he's doing that." You laugh as her annoyed eyes flash to yours for a second before settling on Spencer again.

"You're a profiler, you can't figure it out? That doesn't surprise me, you've probably never considered the fact that Spencer has an unusually high sex drive." Your words completely stun her, and JJ's cheeks flush profusely.

"It means he's horny." You say casually, leaning back against the couch. You love the blush on her cheeks, and the fact that she's clearly biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude. You love that you got under her skin, and yes you're aware that you're a bad person. Now that you've said it, JJ can't get it out of her damn head. Spencer is horny. Spencer isn't a virgin. The thought of Spencer having sex makes JJ feel a sick turning in her gut. She was happy believing Spencer was a virgin, believing that nobody has gotten to experience that side of him yet. Happy to believe that he was untouched, but apparently that was not the case. Now that the illusion has been shattered, JJ feels as though the jagged pieces of it are cutting into her, and she knows you enjoy watching her bleed.

"Trust me, I know just what to do to relieve the tension, I know how to get him off quick. Do you?" You smile as you let your eyes shamelessly drag down his slender frame.

"You're only saying this because you want to control the conversation, and you hate that I see him everyday. That I can talk to him whenever I want, about whatever I want. You wouldn't lash out if you didn't feel intimidated." JJ says calmly, rendering you just as speechless as she was moments ago. The pain that was sent stabbing into your heart caused you to recoil back from JJ, trying to hide your misty eyes from hers. You can't let her know that she's winning.

"Look, we can both get nasty all we want but that's not why I'm here. I just want to help." JJ says sincerely, but you still don't budge. JJ taps her fingers against the wood of the table, thinking about leverage she can use to get you to talk to her.

"Spencer fell in love again." JJ says finally, and this time you turn your gaze up to look at her. You push your emotions down, no matter how much it hurts to hear her say that. Who is she? Are they still together?

"If you want to know more about her, then I suggest you talk to me. An answer for an answer, fair?" You can see her trying to bait you, and damn her because it's working.

"Fine." You grumble, leaning back fully against the couch. Your eyes catch Spencer's for a second when he turns to face the table, presumably looking for a map you remember being on the right side. You point to the right side of the table and Spencer looks nothing but annoyed when he follows your direction and finds what he's looking for. He hates that he functions better as a person when you're around.

"What's the deal with you and Spence?" JJ asks, and there is a lot to unpack with that question.

"Gonna have to be more specific." You say with a shrug, your eyes hesitantly meeting hers.

"How long were you two together?"

"2 years 8 months." You answer without pausing, causing her eyebrows to raise. JJ didn't expect you to remember down to the month, it's been years since you and Spencer were together. That's not a short fling like JJ originally thought, that's a substantial amount of time.

"What's her name?" You ask, desperate to get information on this mystery woman who has stolen Spencer from you.

"Her name was Maeve." Was. You don't miss how she says was instead of is.

"Why do you hate Spencer?" JJ looked like she cared, but you know it's not you she cares about. She's in here to try and protect Spencer in some way, she's acting like you're the villain.

"I don't hate him. He abandoned me. Just packed up and left, no note, no goodbye. Haven't heard from him since." You snap, hating the amount of emotion that was in your voice. JJ's eyebrows furrow, that's just so unlike Spencer. He's not cruel, he's never been cruel but that...is cruel. You see a look flash across her face.

"Sweet boy isn't as sweet as he seems." You say softly, folding your arms over your chest.

"He must have had a good reason." JJ insists, her eyes landing on Spencer's back as he continues to map out the hunting grounds of the killer. You know he's just wasting time to avoid coming back in here. Spencer is a certifiable super genius, he finished mapping it out a while ago. He's just pretending he hasn't finished yet.

"Spence still with her? Maeve." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and JJ slowly shook her head.

"She died in front of him, really tore him up." Your heart cracks a little bit at her words, you can't imagine how hard that must have been for him. You see JJ open her mouth to ask something else when the door opens, and a man with darker skin pokes his head in.

"JJ? Reid found him, we gotta go." As soon as he arrived, he's gone with JJ hot on his heels. She sends you a smile before she rushes out of the room, and you see Spencer following her path out. They're going to arrest a murderer who has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal.

"Spencer! Y-You can't go, it's not safe!" You blurt from the doorway, and he pauses. His eyes find yours as he holsters his pistol, an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's my job." And that's all he says before he disappears out of the precinct, leaving you once again.

//

You couldn't quell the anxiety turning in your gut, you're not sure how to exist while Spencer is out there hunting a murderer. You wished that you could turn off the part of your brain that's still so damn attached to him, but no matter how hard you try you can't silence your heart as it calls for him. You're not sure you could survive the constant fear of losing him if you ever ended up with him again, this life is too much for you to take. Maybe he knew that all those years ago when he left you the first time, Spencer always could see right through you. Maybe he left because he knew staying would only lead you to live a life of constant fear, maybe he was trying to protect you. Either way the reasons don't matter anymore because he left, and nothing can change how badly that hurt you.

"Does it normally take this long?" You ask a passing officer, who in turn shrugs before continuing on his path. You feel like you're going to explode or vomit, or both. It's been over 2 hours, should it be taking this long? What if he got shot? What if he's dead right now and you're sitting here with your damn thumb up your ass worrying about him like a useless housewife? Feeling useless, that's what you hate the absolute most. Knowing there's nothing you can do to stop a bullet on it's trajectory to his heart.

"Spence, are you sure you're okay?" You hear a flurry of voices and when his name graces JJ's lips you're pushing out of the room. Your eyes find him instantly, and then travel to his palm which is pressed tightly to his neck. His bleeding neck. You feel your heart rate spike, hammering like the hooves of wild horses as you move without thinking about it. Before you even understand that you've moved, you're stood in front of him. Your eyes try to scan his neck for wounds but his palm covers the location the blood is coming from.

"C'mere." You grab his wrist and yank him back towards where you saw a first aid kit earlier. Luckily your 2 and a half years of nursing school taught you how to stitch a wound and perform basic first aid. Spencer offers no resistance as you yank him to a back corner of the precinct, pushing him to sit down. You grab the first aid kit, slowly prying his hand from his neck. Your eyes mist at the wound, it's a bullet wound. Looks old though, there's scarred tissue. This had to have happened a few weeks ago at least. You see the thin line of the scar, the middle section seems to have opened up again.

"You didn't wait long enough for this to heal." You scold gently, not missing how his eyes watch you with an intensity smoldering in them. You miss the way he used to look at you, the way he's looking at you right now. You miss being the center of his whole world, you scoff. Look how easy it was for him to walk away from you. You threat a needle to stitch the center of his wound shut again, and when you look for numbing cream you discover that there isn't any.

"Spence, there isn't any- I can't find the numbing..." Your voice trails off as you begin to yank things out of the first aid kit to search for the numbing cream. Spencer's hand catches your wrist and it's only just now that you realize you're trembling.

"It's okay. I'll be fine." He settles back against the chair he's sitting in, turning his head to reveal his neck to you. You hesitate, the Spencer you remember had a very low pain threshold. All of a sudden he's expecting you to stitch him up with no numbing agent?

"Y/N, I can handle it." Spencer says again, his voice firmer than before. You swallow a lump in your throat before reaching forward to begin stitching. You press the needle against his neck, eyeing him to gauge his reaction as you puncture his skin to make the first thread. To your surprise he hardly flinches, a small quirk in his lip is the only giveaway that he's in pain. Is this the same man that got squirmy getting a shot? That would shy away from the needle? Now he's sitting here letting you stitch him up without moving a muscle, without even flinching? The more time you spend with him the more proof you get that this isn't the same Spencer that left you all those years ago.

"How did it happen?" You ask, wondering how he could have survived a gunshot to the neck. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Got shot, two inches away from hitting my jugular." Spencer says it so casually, but you're so stunned that you halt your movements for a moment.

"How many times have you been shot?" You ask, your voice hoarse. Is him getting shot a common occurrence?

"Twice. Also got shot in the leg." The casual way Spencer talks about it almost convinces you it isn't a big deal. But it is. It's a bullet ripping through his body, and it's happened to him on two separate occasions. You finish stitching and bandaging him up, your hands moving away from him as soon as you can.

"Thank God you went to nursing school or I'd be six feet under." He jokes. You know he's kidding but still, the thought of it makes you feel lightheaded.

"Don't say stuff like that." You snap softly, and you know Spencer can see the fear and vulnerability in your eyes. You hesitantly steal a glance up at him once he's stood up only to find he's already looking at you. You shy away from his intrusive gaze, and you could practically feel him probing at your mind. Reading your thoughts as if they were written down for him. You hate that he can always tell what you're thinking, you hate that it was so easy for him to read you. Like a damn book. You have to fight the urge to reach out and grab his hand, it's what you always did when you felt lost or unsure. Spencer was always there to ground you and bring your mind back out of your thoughts.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You hear JJ's voice gently interrupt you two. You shoot away from Spencer as though you were doing something scandalous. He doesn't move an inch.

"Yes!" You blurt a little too loudly, suddenly flustered being so close to him. Why does your sharp tongue always leave you when you need it?

"You're clear to go home."

"I can take her." Spencer speaks up before JJ has a chance to offer, and she knew he would. You swallow a nervous lump in your throat, your palms shaking.

//

The SUV has dark tint, you weren't expecting that. The second you sat back in the plush leather seat your mind flew to lewd thoughts of you leaning over the center console, Spencer's hand in your hair as he helps you take his cock in your mouth. You steal one glance at Spencer, his right hand holding the steering wheel loosely. Your cheeks heat up as you glance down between his legs, get ahold of yourself.

"The address is-"

"I remember." You knew he would. That damn eidetic memory ensured that he never forgot anything. It broke your heart a little, because some naïve part of you was hoping he remembered because it meant something to him. You hoped he remembered the way to your house because he didn't want to forget, because forgetting it meant forgetting you. But you know the reality, you know that he remembers because he has no choice but to remember. His memory is too good to allow him to forget anything, even if it was something he wanted to forget. You're grasping at straws and you know you are, holding onto that foolish notion that Spencer still held onto the memories. That he still held onto the gifts you gave him, crying softly in the night like you did sometimes.

"JJ told me about Maeve." You say softly into the silence, and you saw Spencer swallow thickly out of the corner of your eye. "I'm so sorry you lost her Spence."

"Thank you." He honestly wasn't expecting you to say that, to acknowledge the pain. Because acknowledging the pain meant that you knew he loved her. He did love her. But it was a different love then the love he feels for you. It was special, but so are you. You're special too.

"Have you...dated anyone else?" Spencer can't help but ask as he subconsciously continues the drive to your house. A drive he's committed to his memory, a drive he never wants to forget. You shift to look at him, there were a few you dated. You know when you tell Spencer about them that it'll drive him crazy.

"Tony Anderson." You say and just like you thought, Spencer groans deeply. Spencer detests Tony, they were practically mortal enemies when he still lived in Las Vegas.

"Tony? Seriously?" His tone is incredulous as his grasp on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly.

"He was a good fuck at least." You know you shouldn't wind him up, but he hurt you for Christ's sakes. He deserves a little bit of pain too. Spencer flinches, a look of anger and something else simmering in his eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with Tony."

"Why does it matter?" You shouldn't enjoy upsetting people as much as you do. But there's still a small part of you that's convinced that Spencer deserves this.

"Because I can't live with the fact that somebody else has gotten to feel that perfect cunt of yours, let alone Tony." His crude words take you by surprise, and you can't fight the gasp that escapes your mouth.

"Well before you start digging your grave, relax. I never had sex with Tony." You decide to put him out of his misery, and you see the relief physically flood his body. You lean against the window, the next admission from you will leave the air heavier in it's wake.

"I've never slept with anyone but you Spence." You realize it's been a long time since you've seen Spencer let alone had sex with him but you could never bring yourself to sleep with someone else. It's not as though the opportunity never presented itself, you had plenty of chances to have sex with someone else. But you couldn't because there's still a stubborn part of you that doesn't want to betray Spencer.

"Really? Why?" Apparently this revelation surprised him.

"Because no matter where you go I will always belong to you." You snap without thinking, blinking tears from your eyes as you avoid his gaze. Spencer fell silent then, and you know he feels guilty. Probably because he's slept with someone else in the time since he's been with you.

"I know you have and it's fine I'm not trying to-"

"I haven't." Spencer corrects instantly, his eyes meeting yours through the darkness of the SUV. If he could see you he would see the look of utter surprise on your face. It's not as though Spencer was an overly sexually ambitious person when you dated, but you figured he probably slept with at least one person. "I haven't slept with anybody else either."

"I know someone that wants to though." You grumble without thinking, your mind drifting to JJ and the obvious crush she thinks isn't obvious. Spencer tilts his head in a way that resembles a confused puppy, you resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

"Who?"

"Agent Jareau." As soon as the name slips past the threshold of your lips, Spencer's jerks the wheel in surprise. You see a dark blush color his cheeks as his other hand reaches up to steady the wheel.

"J-Jennifer? No way! She's my best friend." You nearly laugh at his flustered state, and normally you would push it a little further but you decide to let it go. You don't want to completely destroy the way he sees her, you know you already destroyed the way she sees him.

"You have no idea what a catch you are Spencer." You tell him as you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting ready to exit the SUV. Spencer reaches over and places a warm hand on your wrist to stop you from leaving, his eyes searching yours for an answer he isn't sure you have.

"Come in?" You ask hopefully, you're not ready for him to leave again. Damnit why did he have to turn up again after so long? You were just starting to think that maybe you could move on and find someone new. You were finally starting to feel okay, and then Spencer reappears and turns your entire world upsidown all over again. Deep down you know that nobody will ever compare to Spencer Reid, and you don't want them to. You don't want anyone to be like Spencer, you want him to be his entirely own person. It's what you love the most about him, is his ability to be himself no matter where he is or who he's with. All of his little quirks, the things about himself that he doesn't notice but you do.

"Yeah." His answer comes across as an exhalation of breath, and you try to hide how excited you are. You want to hold on to any moment you can, stolen moments that you take as you please with no regret whatsoever.

"Nothing has changed." Spencer muses once you unlock the front door and push inside the darkened living room. You blush, admittedly nothing about your small townhouse has changed. It's all basically the exact same as when Spencer saw it last. You rub a hand down your arm as Spencer's eyes go wandering. Trailing over the curtains he remembers hastily pulling closed to protect your decency on more than a few occasions. His gaze then travels to the couch, all those movie nights you two spent curled up together. Or when he got you into Star Trek and you couldn't stop watching it. Pain stabs his chest for a moment, it's hard to remember everything he had to let go of to get the job he has now.

"I miss you too, you know." Spencer says off-handedly. It takes you by surprise, the sureness in his tone is jarring. He sounds so comfortable admitting when he's vulnerable, it's never been easy for you to be vulnerable with him. Maybe that's part of the reason he left, maybe you drove him away by shutting him out. His eyes meet yours, a look so soft in his eyes it feels as though his gaze is caressing your skin. You bite your bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay, what is it about this man that makes you so emotional?

"I never said I missed you." You try to snap, to add an edge to your tone. But instead it came out watery and broken, and in turn Spencer reached up to swipe away a falling tear.

"But you do." You can't even deny it, it's obvious.

"Damn you Spencer Reid, I was finally starting to feel okay again." You cry softly, curling your arms towards your chest in an attempt to shrink away from him. He cups your cheeks in his palms, turning your face up towards him.

"I wasn't." He admits before his lips are on yours, and it's not frenzied and desperate like you've been picturing all these years. It's slow and calculated, soft and passionate. Firm but with a tenderness that makes your knees buckle from the gravity of it. Spencer's fingers card into your hair, pulling your head closer to his. He nips at your lower lip, his arms crushing you against his chest. You throw yourself into him, your arms holding him as tightly as you possibly can. Afraid that if your vise grip loosens, even for a second, that he'll slip through your fingers like trying to hold onto water. You almost don't want to let your eyes close, you don't want him to disappear again.

"I missed you, I miss you-" You gasp against his lips, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt. Spencer continues to move his lips languidly against yours, backing you against the wall. His hand ghosts down your side to the hem of your shirt, his fingers toying with it.

"O-Off." You beg, and in an instant Spencer is pulling your shirt over your head. His eyes land on your bare chest, shocked that he almost forgot that you never really wear a bra. His hands curl around your back, drawing your chest up into his awaiting lips. His mouth curls around your hardened nipple, your hand flying into his hair from the contact.

"Is this a dream? Please tell me you're really here Spencer." You beg, almost becoming lost in the emotions again. His eyes flutter up to meet yours, his mouth reluctantly leaving your nipple. He brushes his lips over yours, his hand trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your leggings.

"This is real, I'm here baby. I'm home." Hearing those words was too much, and you launch yourself into his chest as the first tear trickles down your cheek. Your lips press sloppily to his, the kiss messy and wet as his hand slides into your leggings. His fingers find your wet slit in an instant, desperately parting your lips to slide a lithe finger into you. Your body reacts to him instantly, in a way that surprises you. Almost as though it too was crying out for him, keening into him and begging for his touch as much as your mind is. Spencer hauls one of your thighs up to hook around his waist as he presses another finger into you. You cry out softly into the quiet air, accompanied only by the labored breathing fanning across your face.

"I need to feel you, I- I need-" You can barely get the words out as he steadily pumps his fingers into you. His mouth on yours silences your desperate pleading, his chest firmly pressing your back into the wall. You missed being able to feel him and you hate that you forgot what it feels like to have his body on yours. It's been so long you forgot what the sting of his cock feels like. What it feels like when you stretch wide open around him, to feel like you're being ripped in two. Spencer continues his pace, his thumb rolling your clit to provide the extra stimulation you're missing. It's not enough to satisfy you, but its enough for you two cum. Which you do. You gush around his fingers as you gently come undone, your back arching into him.

"Please," You beg wantonly, curling your other leg around his waist as his hands hook underneath your thighs. Spencer's lips press against yours, moving slowly against your own. You know now that you will never stop loving Spencer, and that he's completely ruined you for life. You'll never be able to love anybody else without your heart wandering back to him. But then again, you don't really mind because you don't want to be with anybody else. You don't want to love anybody else. You just want him, only him. He pushes into your room, walking the entirety of the way with his eyes closed and his mouth pressed against yours. He has the layout of your house mapped out in his head? He never even bumped into anything until he was dropping you unceremoniously on the bed.

"Tell me what you need, I'll give you whatever you want." Spencer husks against you, hovering above you. Your fingers are already unbuttoning his shirt before you even have the chance to respond to him. You know instantly what you want, what you need from him.

"I want all of you, give me everything." You plead, your lips practically chasing his as he kneels up over you. He's being soft tonight, and that's something you appreciate greatly. You need to feel his love, you need to feel everything you know he can't quite put into words. His hands are shaking as he undoes the button and zipper of his dress slacks before kicking them off the edge of the bed. You stare up at his naked body, looking as though it's been sculpted by the Gods specifically for you. Spencer smiles softly at you as he pulls your leggings down your legs, leaving little nips and kisses on your inner thighs as he goes.

"Hurry." You groan, nearly clawing at his bare shoulders to pull him back up to you. Spencer chuckles at how eager you are, watching with interested eyes as the head of his cock breaches your folds. You reluctantly stretch open as he continues his intrusion, his fists curling tightly around the sheets. Christ you weren't lying about not sleeping with anyone else, you're so tight it's making him feel a little lightheaded. Inch by inch Spencer presses into you, his forehead resting against yours once his pelvis is sitting flush against yours. Sure, you've had sex with hi before but never have you felt this connected to him. Spencer sits like a gentleman and lets you adjust to his size, trying to take a few deep breaths himself. It's hard to breathe with your heat sucking him in with a vice grip.

"Can I move?" You're surprised by how collected his voice is, but the furrow of his brow is a giveaway that he's losing the battle to stay stock still inside you.

"Yes, please." You moan, unashamed. Spencer gently draws his hips back, pulling himself nearly all the way out before swiftly sliding back into your inviting cunt. He sets the pace slow and deep, his hands reaching up to lace through yours. Every time the head of his cock nudges that spot deep inside you, you can feel your toes curl. Your head slams back against the pillows, unable to keep your gaze on him any longer. You feel yourself becoming one with him, and you wish you could capture this moment somewhere other then just in your minds eye. Your memory is nowhere near as good as Spencer's, he'll be able to recall every detail of this moment up until the day he dies. But over time, this memory will fade for you. It'll wear out, all the details becoming fuzzy and blurred. If he's not here in front of you, you'll forget and you don't want to forget.

When the night draws to a close, and the moon has reached its peak, Spencer slips carefully out of bed. It chisels away pieces of his heart as he carefully gets dressed, reaching for his go bag which he'd brought inside upon realizing that he'd be staying a while. He pulls out a t-shirt he'd worn recently and leaves it folded neatly at the end of your bed, something for you to hold onto when he's gone. Spencer's cheeks are wet with tears as he leans over and presses a kiss to your head.

"I love you." Is the last thing he whispers in the space between you two before he's gone again.

//

On the jet, Derek can't keep his eyes off Spencer and that helplessly broken look on his face. A book is laid nestled in Spencer's lap, but Derek can tell he isn't really reading it. Trying to bother Spencer into opening up probably won't work, but it's worth a try. Derek has to do something and this is all he can think of.

"You okay kid?"

"Yeah fine, why?" Spencer draws his eyes up from the book, his gaze meeting Derek's from across the table. While Spencer might be a talented actor, he can't lie to Derek.

"Look I know how hard it must have been leaving her again-"

"Did you know that on average the FDA allows a minimum of 1 rodent hair per 100 grams of peanut butter? They have to allow themselves room for error just in case of-"

"Alright you win, forget it." Derek sighs, turning his gaze out the window. In an instant Spencer drops his peanut butter spiel, turning back to his book. A guaranteed way to get people off his back is to start rambling about something boring or gross, they usually leave him alone pretty quickly. It's not that Spencer doesn't appreciate Derek's concern, he just doesn't want to talk about it. He can't talk about it, because every time he imagines how you're going to feel when you wake up, tears come to the surface of his eyes. He hates this case more than all the rest even though they saved the victim. Spencer hates this case for ripping open an old wound, one he thought healed.

He was wrong.

//

When you wake the next morning you knew he'd be gone. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you reached over and felt cold sheets. That didn't stop the tears from coming when you cried how much you loved him over and over again even though he couldn't hear you. It doesn't change how badly this hurts, how much worse it feels compared to the first time he left. Your eyes catch the shirt folded at the end of the bed and you grab it instantly. You pull it over your body and you lay down in your bed, inhaling his cologne that you know will fade over time. Eventually his scent will disappear, removing all traces that this fabric belonged to him at all. Every trace of him will disappear over time, every mark from your body will slowly vanish. When it's all gone, you'll be left with nothing more than a t-shirt that's too big for you, and a cold reminder that the man you love will never truly be yours. A reminder that every time he comes home, he leaves again.

A cold reminder that this world is cruel for bringing you Spencer Reid, only to rip him from you again and again.

[chaoticforever]

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures | Yandere Tony and Yandere Steve x Male! Reader

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers.

Are two men with very different and very strong personalities. Both tend to get into arguments and didn't really have things in common. Well, until you came along and managed to steal the heart of Iron Man and Captain America. 

You, Y/N L/N. The newest member of the Avengers who was in your mid-20s and graduated from SHIELD academy, and ended up being recruited by Fury. 

And from the first day they laid their eyes on you, you've managed to turn everything around with just one look.

Created a dark, possessive monster inside the Billionaire and super-soldier. 

They loved every part of you and the sole purpose of their lives was to get you to be one of theirs forever. 

Of course, this has caused them both to argue more frequently than they did, and the other Avengers were getting fed up with it. So, they both resorted to doing many different things to gain your love and affection. 

Tony resorted to spending his wealth and luxuries. He's constantly spoiling you with gifts and even took you flying in his private jet with just the two of you.

Steve wasn't from this time, but he knew that if he wanted you, he needed to be himself, so that's what he did. He took you out to your favorite restaurants and other places to your liking. You seemed to be having a good time, which made Steve think he is winning against Tony. 

They wouldn't stop until they both succeeded in winning your heart. 

You and Steve were currently training in the gym after punching the punching bags. Though you didn't need to train, you liked training with Steve. Tony watched you both train through the cameras he had installed to make sure that Steve didn't try anything with you. 

Steve was a little more skilled in fighting than you, but he should learn to never underestimate you. Without warning, Steve threw a punch at you and missed as you did a special move and flipped him on the ground as he groaned. 

"How did you manage to do that?" Steve asked breathlessly from underneath you, blushing from the position you both were in. 

"Because I'm awesome and amazing." You said cockily with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders as you smirked down at the super soldier, "Guess I'm stronger than you." 

In a split second, Steve flipped you over and pinned your arm down as your eyes widened in surprise. That damn super Soldier serum strength. Steve was now smirking down at you, "I'm still stronger."

He put his hand on your cheek, startling you slightly as you felt heat crawl up to your face. Steve decided to get a little bold and leaned down, slowly closing the distance between you two, but the sound of your phone blared throughout the gym. You both jumped, and you got up from underneath Steve to check it. 

Crap, I was so close to kissing him. Steve thought as Tony clenched his fist in his hand, feeling a sudden urge to call for his suit and shoot a lot of repulsors at Steve. 

I can't believe I almost kissed Captain America. What is wrong with me? You thought and shook your head, checking to see who called you and the unread message. 

Seeing the message made you let out a huff of annoyance. Steve frowned and walked over to you and placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look at him. 

"Are you alright, Y/N?" 

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just fine."

Steve didn't believe you, but he'll let it go for the time being, "Hey, are you hungry? I can make you something or we can go out to lunch." He smiled at you. 

"I would love to go out to lunch with you, but I promised Tony I would help down in the lab after I was done training." You sent him an apologetic smile. 

Steve clenched his teeth at the fact that you were spending time with Tony. He didn't want you to be alone with him. He hoped at least Bruce was in the lab with you, but then again, Tony would still try to make a move with Bruce there or not. 

"Mr. L/N, sir would like to see you in his lab now." Jarvis said. 

"Okay, I'll see you later, Steve." 

You left the gym, not knowing that you left behind a jealous and fuming Steve. 

You took a shower and changed as quickly as possible, running to the elevator and nearly bumped into Tony who had a coffee mug in his hand. 

"There you are, Y/N! I was wondering what was taking you so long." Tony said, stepping back into the elevator along with you and taking a sip of his coffee. 

"Just need to take a shower and change first. Training made me very sweaty," You replied, "So, what are we working on today?" 

"We aren't working on anything today." 

The elevator stopped and you both entered the lab, as you looked at Tony in confusion, "But I thought we were-" 

"Nope! You are going to try on the new suit I designed for you." He presses a button, which brings out the suit. 

"Wait. I'm actually getting my own suit?" You asked, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice, but failing miserably. 

Tony nodded, "Yeah, and with this suit, you'll have full optimal protection along with other special modifications. It'll be good for future missions as well." He boasted proudly of his new design. 

"It's perfect! Can I try it on now?" 

"I don't see why not. Go ahead!" 

He takes the suit out of the package and you took it, running into another room to get changed, but not before planting a kiss on Tony's cheek. He still stood in the same spot and blushed, taking a deep breath in. 

The suit felt amazing on your body. It was quite comfortable and nobody can ever say that you don't look good in this suit cause that would be a lie.

This black suit could help you blend into the environment better and look good at the same time. 

"I can't believe you tried to kiss him! And then show up down here in my lab!" You heard Tony speaking to someone in a hushed tone and you decided to listen in. 

"Mellow out, Stark. Don't act like you haven't tried to when you're alone with him." You heard Steve's voice spoken in a hushed tone as well. 

"Doesn't matter. I do what I want, and I want you to stay away from him." 

"I don't have to listen to you!" 

"I'd strongly suggest you do." 

"Hey, how do I look?" You step out and show them how your suit looks on you, putting an end to this unnecessary argument as they both looked at you. 

Both, Steve and Tony's mouths fell open slightly at the way you looked in that black suit, "...Hot." Was the word that came out of their mouth simultaneously and you chuckled. 

"I know. Thank you." You responded. Just then, you got a message on your phone and resisted the urge to sigh, "Sorry, Tony. I have to leave right now." 

"What? Why?" Tony narrowed his eyes as Steve stood next to him, waiting for your answer. 

"Well, one of my friends from SHIELD Academy wanted to meet up with me." 

"And what's their name?" Steve asked.  

"His name is Tyler and I forgot we made lunch plans together, so I'm going to go and get ready. I'll see you guys later. I won't be gone for more than an hour."

Quickly, you walked out of the lab and left behind two people together in a room with one sole purpose. And they realized that someone else might be in their way. 

Around twenty minutes later, you were done getting dressed, wearing a casual outfit. It was probably a little much for going out with a friend. Oh well. You always dress to impress. 

"Where are you going looking that good? A date, perhaps?" You heard Natasha ask and turned around to see her in the doorway with Clint, smirking at you. 

"If you must know, I'm not going on a date. Just going out with a friend." 

"Oh c'mon. There's no way you're going out with a friend when you look that hot. It's totally a date," Clint said, "I bet you fifty bucks he's gonna have sex." 

You rolled your eyes, letting out a snort, "It's not a date and I won't be having sex. Tyler just wants to know what's been happening in my life and how I fit in around here." 

"Well, make sure to tell him that you fit in just fine around here. This is your home." Natasha tells you. 

"Home." You whispered in a flat tone, putting on your jacket and shoes. 

"Yeah! You're an Avenger now. It might not feel like home since you're still pretty new here, but it will soon." Clint chimed in and you nodded with a smile. 

You went down to the living room where all the other Avengers were sitting and said your goodbyes. Then, you walked out of the tower to go and meet Tyler. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

"Come dance with me, Y/N." Tyler asked, placing his drink down and offering you his hand with a smile. You two went out to lunch before coming out to a bar. You two had an interesting conversation. 

Even though you said you would be gone for an hour, that turned into three. 

"Um, right now?" 

"No, when we are old and gray. Of course, I meant right now." You rolled your eyes but took his hand and he led you onto the dance floor where other couples were dancing as well. 

Soon, you were wrapped in his arms, swaying to the rhythm of the music, "Remember what I told you to do. Take out the Avengers before it's too late." 

You let out a sigh, not wanting to have this conversation right now or at all for that matter. Unfortunately, some Hydra agents did invade SHIELD and recruited Tyler. They were trying to recruit you too, but you didn't want to be a part of that. 

You didn't want to hurt or kill the Avengers. You actually liked them and saw them as family. You wanted to protect and help people, not hurt them. 

"I don't want to have this conversation right now." You stated and lifted your head up from his chest to see that he looked like he was struggling to breathe and frowned, "Tyler? You alright there?" 

Suddenly, Tyler collapsed onto the floor, passing out as some people came over to see what happened. You were about to check on him when a Hydra Agent came over and placed a hand on your shoulder, "Get back to the tower. You have a job to do. Don't forget." 

You let out a dramatic huff but walked back to the tower. When you got back to the tower, you went straight to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, drying it with a washcloth. 

Fuck it, you decided that you aren't killing any of the Avengers. You were basically a member now. You get to save people's lives and that's what you wanted to do. Hydra would have to kill you before you think about hurting the team. 

You entered your room at the exact moment someone knocks on your door. Ugh, seriously? You wanted to blast your music and read a book or something. Who the hell is knocking at your door? 

You opened the door and Tony and Steve were standing in the doorway, "Hey, Y/N. How was your date?" Steve asked, voice dripping with bitterness. 

"It wasn't a date," You corrected, and sighed in slight exasperation, "But I had a good time. What are you guys doing here?" 

"Cap and I came here to ask you a question." Tony spoke up confidently. 

"What is it?" 

Suddenly, both Steve and Tony grabbed one of your hands, startling you slightly.

"Y/N. We really like you. A lot."

"And we want to know who you like back." They pulled you closer to them, gripping your waist in a possessive manner. 

You looked back and forth between both of the men standing before you, clearing your throat roughly. You've known for some time now that they had a crush on you. It wasn't hard to tell. 

You liked both these men a lot. Though the way you liked them was different than the way they loved you. Their obsession ran deep and there wasn't anything they wouldn't do for you. 

"...I kinda like both of you." You said and watched them closely for their reactions

"Well, we don't mind sharing you," Tony declared, "You want to be ours, right?" 

"Yeah, I'll be both of yours." Oh, you didn't know what saying those words would do to the genius and the blonde.  All you wanted to do was take a nap after the crazy day you had. 

And that's what you did. 

You fell asleep in a matter of minutes as Tony and Steve laid on both sides of you, cuddling with you in content. 

"Didn't I tell you that everything would work out perfectly?" Tony questioned. 

"I hate to say it, but you were right, Tony. And I'm glad that you were right." Steve responded, wrapping his arm tighter around your waist and kissing your neck.

Once you left the lab, Tony and Steve could only think about the fact that you were going on a date with some guy and they couldn't let that happen. 

They didn't want to do this, but they created a partnership of sorts to make sure that no one else could have you. They didn't want to share you. Both of them wouldn't stop trying to win your heart and kill each other. But, you know what they say. 

Sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Everyone wants to at least fuck you. I mean just look at you, so they needed to work together to make sure you were theirs, and theirs alone. 

Tony had placed a 24/7 tracker on you when you first joined the Avengers with audio and video. He was able to track and see you all the time. 

Watching as you laughed and talked with Tyler like he was your whole world sent both men bubbling with anger. 

Using his connections and wealth, Tony hired someone to put a drop of poison that he created himself in Tyler's drink which would kill him in a few minutes. 

Steve ended up killing the person who Tony hired to do it. They couldn't have him telling anyone about what they did. 

You messed with their minds with only a look and they couldn't help, but love it. 

Tony has been with plenty of men in the past. None lasted long since he was a playboy, but no one ever made him feel this way and he couldn't let you go. 

Steve was pretty much familiar now with the concepts of same-sex couples. And when he first laid eyes on you, a man, he knew that you needed to be right in his arms. 

And now, you have given yourself to both of them. Oh, you didn't know what you just did because you were with them forever now. 

Escaping is impossible and they would do anything to make sure you belonged to them. They had no intention of ever letting you leave them.

XXXXX XXXXX 

[9tzuyu]

exquisite (rewrite)

[old version]

summary: uhhh idk artist!reader gets f*cked by nat

warnings: 18+, smut, choking (verrrrryyy briefly), mommy kink

also its been awhile since i’ve written smut so if this is awful do not perceive me >:(.

thank you moli for proofreading, i love u <3

dt: @nermalina hey bff heres that smut i promised you. consider it a very late birthday gift <3

🏷: @natasha-danvers @kermy48 @yelenabelovasgf @blackxwidowsxwife @slut-for-nat

natasha had been a model for dozens of people, dozens of times. it never crossed your mind that she would model specifically for you. the redhead was aggressively known for rejecting people's pleas for her to let them paint, sketch, or mold her from clay.

so it came as a surprise when you came across an email requesting a one-on-one session with you. had natasha's name not caught your eye, you would've deleted the email and completely missed such a huge opportunity.

you just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.

the all too known model would be at your apartment in half an hour. you had already set up your supplies the night before out of pure nervousness of her arrival.

you stood in the middle of your kitchen, a cup of orange juice in hand as you thought about the different styles you could draw her in. however, your train of thought was unexpectedly interrupted by the sound of a knock at your door.

natasha was twenty minutes early. and god did it feed into your anxiety.

after unlocking the deadbolt, you were greeted with a friendly pair of green eyes. you didn't say anything, only moving out of the way so she could walk in.

she took in her surroundings, and you suddenly felt a little embarrassed about your apartment. it was cheap, invaluable compared to the rich houses you knew natasha had been invited to.

"sorry it's not much," you mumbled.

"no, it's fine. it's different... in a good way i mean." she reassured quickly, "it doesn't scream how much you want to impress me."

you gave an awkward nod and led her into the living room, motioning to her that you wanted her on the couch.

"okay, you can get into any form you want as long as-" seeing natasha with her clothes half off and still going caught your breath. "-you're comfortable."

she saw your panic from the corner of her eye and smirked. natasha tended to have that effect on people, but this was the first time she allowed someone to draw her fully nude. seeing the look in your eyes as they roamed her body gave her the confidence boost she needed.

you bit your lip as you watched natasha position herself. her right arm rest against the armrest, legs situated atop each other while her left arm fell against her hip.

and just when you thought she had finalized her position, she bent her left knee up and spread her legs. you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from moaning out loud.

"how's this?"

you nodded, "perfect."

normally natasha could keep herself busy with small talk, but you seemed to be much more quiet than the other artists she'd modeled for. she liked that though, because she already knew it would be easy to make you squirm.

her eyes steadied themselves on your face. you were very focused on your work, she could tell by the involuntary frown on your face. when you looked up from your canvas you were met with a pair of green eyes staring directly at you. nervously, you tried to glance at a different part of her body, but that would betray you because the first thing your eyes landed on was her cunt.

you tried to cover up your action, but the sound of natasha's laugh indicated that she saw the whole thing happen.

"do you want a closer look?" her voice was raspy, causing you to freeze. "really, i don't mind. the second i saw your picture online i knew i wanted to fuck you."

you felt the air in your lungs leave your body. she stood up from her position and strutted her way into your personal space. natasha towered over you while you sat on your stool. she thrusted her hips lightly against your back so you knew she was in charge. it wasn’t long before her lips began to attack your neck. sloppy kisses littered the edge of your jawline, a generous specialty of hers.

"but the drawing, i haven't fin-"

"i don't care. now do you want me to fuck you in here or in your bedroom? i'd prefer the bed, but i could make eating you out on the couch doable."

your reply was stuck in the back of your throat, but you wanted her more than anything.

she traced the outline of your face before grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at her. "i don't have much patience and if you make me wait any longer, i'm going to punish you." natasha's eyes grew dark, completely different from the woman who initially walked through the door.

"bedroom," you squeaked, but before you could go to move natasha picked you up bridal style and carried you herself.

you almost regretted underestimating how strong she was by her petite frame. almost.

she placed you flat on your back and in an instant natasha had your clothes ripped from your body. "sweet girl, you won't know your own name by the time i'm done with you."

she tugged you closer to her so that she could prop both legs on her shoulders, keeping you wide and open just as she wanted.

natasha kissed the inside of your thighs as she worked her way up. your eyes screwed shut, and you found yourself fighting back the urge to moan.

the redhead wouldn't allow that though. she wanted to hear every noise you made slip from your mouth, and she would do anything to get what she wanted.

"open your eyes, let mommy hear those pretty little moans of yours."

she kitten licked the outside of your walls while massaging both of your breasts with her hands, occasionally twisting your nipples for extra stimulation. she dipped the tip of her tongue further into your pussy before retracting and going back to kissing your thighs.

"mommy," you whined.

you could feel natasha smile against your skin. "there you go, my love." you tried to grind your hips further onto her mouth by pushing upwards, but natasha's mouth quickly moved out of reach.

"ah ah ah, be patient. only good girls get what they want." you rolled your eyes and huffed, earning a loud slap to the side of your thigh. "do that again and your ass will be bent over my knee seven shades of red."

her glare went away as soon as she buried her face back between your legs. she was downright greedy, almost possessive over the gift between your legs.

natasha's role of being easy on you was put to an end. she shoved her tongue into your pussy, graciously accepting every inch you had to offer. seeing your back arch, hands balled into fists as they gripped the sheets, gave the redhead a sense of euphoria she'd never felt before.

"mommy please-"

"you're so beautiful when you fall to pieces." natasha purred. "aren't you glad mommy's taking care of you?"

your only response was a loud whine as her tongue flicked over your clit. "c'mon sweet girl, i know you can use your words."

"yes!" your voice was strained, a series of incoherent grunts and moans filling the room. natasha’s mouth covered the entirety of your pussy and her lapping only grew stronger the more you cried.

you clenched tightly around her tongue. your legs automatically reflexed to close, but that didn’t do anything for you except grant natasha deeper access into your cunt.

“m-mommy!” the feeling of natasha’s nails scraping the sides of your thighs was enough to let you know you could come. “mmm, that’s right baby. there you go.”

when she pulled away, you were greeted with the sight of natasha’s sticky, grinning face as she moved to sit on your stomach. she figured she could give you a small break before really fucking you senseless.

but that didn’t mean she would stop completely.

her hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing and pinching them again for extra stimulation. “you like that, don’t you baby?”

“yes, please, i want more!”

natasha giggled, mocking your pathetic pleas for her.

“not yet. don’t be the dirty little whore i know you are. now you’re going to lay here while mommy grinds on your stomach until she gets tired of it.” her hand offered a gentle squeeze around your throat.

“you’re going to have to draw me with my fingers shoved in your cunt before i let you cum again.” she taunted, slowly edging herself on your body. it wasn’t long before you began to feel her heat against your skin.

and truthfully, you’d draw whatever the hell she wanted you to just as long as she kept coming back.