#like I’m sorry my wrist should not be hurting because I held it at a slightly weird angle while holding something

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

Reader is super drunk at a party and accidentally kisses a random guy instead of her boyfriend, Rafe. When they get home, Rafe gets super angry. Make it as dark as possible please!!!

i see it now

toxic!boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!girlfriend!reader

cw — 18+ minors dni, this is dark so be warned, smut, p in v, rafe slaps reader, unintentional cheating, dacryphilia, consumption of alcohol, dub-con, breeding kink, pet names, rafe is very toxic, degradation, recording, talks of cocaine, somewhat happy ending because i felt bad

a/n — i don’t usually write dark stuff but i tried my best

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

you smiled against his lips, his hands massaging your ass in the skin tight dress you were wearing with yours resting on his broad chest. it wasn’t as firm as you remembered. the way he kissed wasn’t as you remembered either. you were too hammered to even care though. you could barely remember how many shots you’d taken and you were sure rafe had done a few lines.

“‘m gonna go get us some more drinks,” you slurred out before prying his hands from you and slipping off to get grab some beers. you immediately felt a cold hand grab your wrist. you tried wiggling it from the death grip and turned to face the culprit, your very upset looking boyfriend. “rafe? what’s your problem? i told you i was getting us some more drinks.”

he scoffed at that and snatched the beer from your hands. he used the grip on your wrist to pull you through the crowd of people and up to some random room, slamming the door and leaving you stumbling inside. “what the fuck is wrong with you? grabbin’ and kissin’ all up on other dudes, are you fuckin’ serious right now?”

you felt yourself sober up slightly, head still spinning and your brain fuzzy. “what are you talking about rafe? i was with you the whole time!” you muttered out innocently.

“you’re fucking with me, right?” he asked through a laugh. something about the switch in his demeanor was scaring you. “that dude who’s throat you had your tongue down, wasn’t fucking me. you know how embarrassing that shit is for me? ruining my reputation that i’ve worked so hard to build just cause you wanna go fuck around with some other dude?”

your eyes began to water as you kicked off your shoes and took unsteady steps towards him. “rafe, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t know. i’m like—i’m really fucking drunk right now and i thought it was you!” you tried defending yourself. he didn’t like that answer.

he pushed you away from him, sending you stumbling backward and onto the king sized bed. “this is the last time i ever take your ass out with me again, you got that? this is why i don’t fucking let you drink. you don’t know how to handle your fucking alcohol.”

you stood up and regained your balance. you crossed your arms over your chest and sniffled as a tear rolled down your reddened cheeks. “you’re bein’ mean, rafe,” you mumbled out. your feelings were only getting more hurt.

“yeah? i’m bein’ mean?” he laughed dryly before you felt a hand strike your cheek hard. “if you wanna see mean, i’ll show you mean. this is how whores get treated. if you wanna act like one and go fuck other dudes, that’s exactly how i’ll treat you. what makes you think i should treat you like my sweet little girlfriend when this is how you fuckin’ act?!”

you whimpered in pain as you held your cheek and allowed the tears to flow freely and the sobs to leave your mouth. “i’m sorry, rafe. i didn’t know. i—i didn’t mean to drink so much.”

he rolled his eyes at your words and smirked sinisterly. he ran a hand over his stressed face. “sit down,” he ordered sternly. when you moved a little too slow for his liking, he shoved you down and you crashed onto the floor with a choked sob. you sat on your heels, hands folded in your lap as you waited for his next move. your eyes drooped with exhaustion and your head ached. the jingling sound of him undoing his belt didn’t help either. “give me your hands,” he demanded.

you quickly lifted them and hissed when he tightened the belt as much as he could around your skin and let them drop back onto your thighs. he rid himself of his pants and grabbed his phone from the pocket of it. he pushed his boxers down to his knees and waited for you to do something.

when you simply stared up at him with wide, teary eyes, he slapped your cheek again and laughed in your face. “are you fuckin’ dumb? do i really have to do everything for you?” he asked tauntingly. “you know what to do. get to fuckin’ work, slut.”

you sobbed and leaned forward to take the tip into your mouth and lightly suck. it was new to not have your hands but you tried to adjust as quick as you could. your tongue lapped up the underside of his cock and you slowly began to work his length down your throat.

“is that really all got, princess? hurry the fuck up, i got shit to do,” he spat as a flashlight shined down at you. you looked up, straight into his phone camera as a tear fell down your cheek. your eyes diverted back down and you shuffled forward on your knees and took him deeper into your mouth.

you heard him groan quietly which only spurred you on. in your drunken state, the urge to please was extremely heightened. you began to bob your head quicker and suck a little harder, earning more moans from him. his hips subconsciously began to push forward into the warmth of your throat as one of his hands found the back of your head.

he pushed you down all the way, forcing his entire length to sit down your constricting throat, making you gag and cry even harder. he tipped his head back in pleasure. “there you go, baby. fuckin’ take my cock down your pretty little throat. fuck. your mouth feels so fuckin’ good,” he praised before letting you go as you gasped for air and choked. “too bad you’re such a slut,” he added with another slap to your cheek. at least that one was a little lighter. “coulda been such a good girl.”

you feel the drool slide down your chin and the ache begin to form at the back of your mouth as you swayed slightly from the dizziness. the flashlight became brighter as he got closer to your face, one hand smearing the saliva all over your face and messing up your makeup. “such a dirty little bitch. can’t wait to show this to the boys so they can see how fuckin’ nasty you are,” he said before laughing and shutting his phone off.

he grabbed your forearms and pulled you up before pushing you back onto the bed. he came to sit in the space between your spread legs as he hiked your dress up and ripped your underwear right off your body. “wow, baby. this is a new low for you. getting off on bein’ punished? really?” he mumbled, running two fingers through your dripping folds.

he quickly replaced his fingers with the tip of him, nudging against your clit and making you whimper and bite your lower lip. “shh, princess. you’re gonna take my cock like a good little whore, then we’re gonna go home and you’re gonna take your ass to sleep.”

you screamed when he pushed his entire length into you with no warning or preparation. he wasn’t small by any means, and the girth of him stretched you out like no other. “thats right, scream my fuckin’ name so everyone knows who you belong to, who fucks you this good.”

he set a brutal pace immediately, his hips rocking into you with such force that you slowly slid up the bed. you cried out and tried to shut your legs only to be blocked by him. he placed a hand on your stomach and pressed down, feeling the tip underneath the soft skin. “feel that, baby? feel me in your fuckin’ guts. no one will ever fuck you like i do, you hear me? no one will ever be this deep inside this little pussy like me, you understand that?”

you nodded along, your tied hands reaching forward for anything to anchor yourself down. your legs began shaking as you sobbed and cried in both pain and pleasure. it was overwhelming and the burning stretch of him was making you dizzy. “please, rafe! please, please, please!” you didn’t even know what you were begging for. mercy? a break? more? you weren’t sure.

rafe chuckled and lifted your hands. he stuck his head through the loop of your arms to allow them to rest on his shoulder before planting a forearm on either side of your head and letting some of his body weight rest on top of you, something that always seemed to bring you back to reality. he sucked deep bruises into your neck, rocking his hips a little slower into you as the hairs by the base of his cock tickled your clit and made you cry harder. “keep cryin’ baby, only makes this hotter for me,” he mumbled against the shell of your ear.

you felt an orgasm pooling in your stomach, about to overflow as your legs shook even harder and your tied hands pulled at the hair on his head. the coil in your stomach quickly snapped, clenching around him and making him moan loudly. “maybe i should knock you up, huh? hows that sound? everyone would see you walking around, stomach all big and round, all cause i fucked a baby into you. then nobody would wanna even look at you and you’d be all mine. yeah, that sounds real fuckin’ good to me.”

you cried harder and pressed your things into the sides on him as he increased his pace and pulled another orgasm out of you. “there we go. gonna come, shit, gonna come in this pretty little cunt,” he said, biting down on your shoulder as he pressed his hips flush to yours and moaned against your skin when he finally found his sweet release.

you were too drunk and fucked out to speak, just lolling your head to the side rafe’s was on in hopes he’d at least kiss you, do something to bring you back to reality. he didn’t. instead he lifted his head and removed it from the loop of your arms before sitting up and grabbing a pillow. he quickly lifted your hips and placed it underneath, running his hands up your dress-clad stomach and smiling to himself. “gonna look so pretty, all swollen with my kid. jus’ gotta make sure it takes,” he stated, plugging you up with his slowly softening cock.

he held your down there for a couple of minutes before pulling out and wiping himself off then tucking himself back into his boxers. he got up and pulled his pants back on, adjusting his shirt and running a hand through his hair. “get up, we have a party to get back to,” he ordered as he undid the belt around your wrist and slid it back on himself.

you literally looked like you just got thoroughly fucked, which you did, but there was no way you were going back out like that. “rafe,” you pouted, lip wobbling as you held back even more tears. you were unsure how you had this much to cry. “please—please don’t make me, rafe,” you begged.

“c’mon baby. you wanted to act like a whore tonight, so now you’re gonna walk around with my cum dripping down your thighs and my marks all over you to let everyone know who you belong to,” he said with a lopsided grin. you cried even harder now.

———

after another hour of complete embarrassment for you, rafe had began to feel a little bad. he helped you into the car as you stumbled with wobbly legs even though you’d tried multiple times to push him off of you. you were pissed. he’d even tried helping you out of it and into the house, but you were too angry and drunk to even look at him.

despite your protests, he had a firm grip on your hips as he helped you up the stairs to your bedroom. he gently sat you down on the edge and squatted down to be just a little lower than eye level with you. “baby? hey, can you look at me sweetheart?” he asked softly as he reached up to tilt your chin towards him.

you turned your head quickly away from his hand and sniffled, a stray tear falling. “‘s—‘s so fuckin’ embarrassing, rafe,” you choked out with slurred words.

his heart began to feel heavy at your words. he knew he could act purely on emotions, but he’d never intentionally hurt you. you were the only one that got that soft side of him. he would never ever think to do something so painful with you and today, he let his feelings get the best of him. “i know, i’m sorry angel,” he apologized and tried grab your hand to hold. the hands that were now bruised and cut up from the harsh leather of his belt.

you brushed him off and closed your eyes, head still turned away from him as you tried to keep the tears at bay even though it was no use. “i don’t accept your stu—stupid apology. you know i’d never ever cheat on you. it was an accident. i—i’d never do that shit to you. you were mean to me tonight, rafe.”

his large hands found your thighs, thumbs rubbing soothingly over them and his face leaning down to press gentle kisses to your skin. “i’m sorry. i jus’—i got a bit out of control for a minute and i promise you it won’t happen again. i know you wouldn’t do that to me, i just saw you with someone else and—and i flipped out. i shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that and i swear on everything that i’ll make it up to you.”

you sniffled and went to wipe your tears, only for him to beat you to it and turn your head towards him for your gazes to meet. he took your hands in his own and laid soft kisses to the bruised skin of your wrists. he stood up once he finished and brought a hand up to cradle the back of your head as he placed a kiss to your forehead. “i’m really, really sorry, angel. i love you and i never meant to hurt you like i did today,” he apologized once more.

you sighed and bit your bottom lip anxiously. “i love you too,” you replied under your breath. you hated fighting with him and you knew his intentions were nothing but genuine with you. today definitely threw you off a little, but you were sure he’d keep his word and make it up to you.

“wait here, alright? ‘m gonna run a bath and we can relax for a little. that sound okay?” he asked, brushing your disheveled hair away from your face. you nodded in response before he tilted your chin up and placed a loving kiss to your lips. “i’m be right back, baby.”

[jubshead]

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈'𝐦 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

Paring: Lydia Lebasi x Reader

Summary: An unexpected visit turns your day south; Lydia is there to comfort you.

A/N: This is a request from the wonderful and talented @madamspellmans-met-tet, I’m sorry it took me more than a month to finish this, I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: Implied past child abuse/neglect, Mentioned drug addiction, Mommy issues, Comfort sex, Fingering, Praise kink

Word count: 5.2k

Date: April 30, 2025

Lydia Lebasi is from SVU episode 11, season 16

Masterlist | Taglist | Read on ao3

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The streets of New York buzz with life. The sun shines its lazy light over honking cars and warmly dressed pedestrians, unhelpful with the autumn chill. Tall buildings throw cold shades on the sidewalk and you watch smoke leave your cracked lips, tightening the scarf around yourself. 

The walk from your college to the shooting address is filled with a freezing breeze and people in a hurry, the high class part of the town never taking a break. Your hard icy fingers squeeze the phone on your hand and you curse your brother for not meeting you in your usual lunch spot, just because he was part of a movie now it didn’t give him the right to make you walk twelve blocks in this weather. 

The end of the semester brought with itself the usual seasonal exams and an exhaustion that weighed you down. The sleepless nights walked hand in hand with the multiple cups of coffee and the seemingly perpetual study sessions. You could be nothing but grateful that the tests had ended today, even with your moufled mind and the need to tumble over your bed and sleep for a week. 

As you walk, your reflection on the buildings' glass follows you, the approaching blue dot on your screen indicating the proximity to your destination. Taking your eyes off the street for even a second seems to be the wrong choice when you bump into someone. 

“Oh, I’m so-” The apology is left hanging, blood completely draining from your face when you look up.

“Hi, darling.” 

The pet name is spoken anxiously, a sweet faux thing that makes you swallow the bile rising in your throat. Your mother stands in front of you, blonde burned hair tied back into a thin ponytail and yellow teeth gracing you with a rotten smile. 

“What are you- How did you-” Words escape you when you come face to face with the woman who raised you. 

“Oh, you know.” She laughs, trying to decrease the tension. “I saw your brother’s face on this big outdoor street and thought I should pay him a visit. I miss my munchkins.” 

Her cold hand reaches and squeezes your warm cheek. The childhood nickname makes you soften and, just like always, you’re pliant in her hand when she gives you any sort of affection. 

“Mom, shouldn’t you be in rehab right now?” You ask cautiously, aware of the sensitive topic. 

Her palm flies away from your face and she eyes you as if betrayed. 

“That horrible place? I left months ago.” She gesticulates widely. “They treated me like shit, humiliated me in front of everybody and used torture methods for abstinence. I don’t know which one of you chose that clinic, but I’m not going back there. I’m sure you understand, don’t you, darling? You wouldn’t want your mother to be hurt.”

The institution you helped your brother pick was one of utmost respect, held in a high regard of humanistic treatment and positive results. Neither one of you was saving expenses when it came to your mother’s wellbeing. 

You can only hum at her statement, used to her lying. 

For the first time since bumping into her, you actually take in her appearance. Her fingers tremble as she screeches her wrist, ripping the skin under her nails. Paranoia seems to grip her shoulders and bend her down, eyes shadowed by dark circles darting from left to right. She’s wearing rags, unmatching clothes that barely shield her from the weather, her large thin coach swallowing her frail figure. 

The blown wide pupils can’t seem to focus when she looks back at you.

“Well, this is not what I came here to talk about.” She does a dismissive motion. “I’d like to see your brother.” 

She turns in the direction of the building and you are quick to grab her arm, preventing her from walking. 

Your brother’s mention is enough to make you snap out of whatever trance your mother always seems to put you in. Just imagining her appearing in his work place, embarrassing him in front of everybody, builds the resolve that you will, for once, deal with this on your own. 

“What are you doing? Let me go.” Her face morphs, turns into the ugly one it did when you used to flush her drugs down the toilet, long before you learned it was of no use. 

She would just buy more. 

“Mom, I don’t-” 

“I told you to let me go, you petulant child! Who do you think you are?” Her voice raises, hardens. 

You feel the stares turning in your direction, people stopping to watch the scene unfolding as your cheeks grow warm and the bile rises in your throat once more.

“You think you can prevent me-” 

“What is going on here?” Someone interrupts her, imposing timber ringing over your mother’s tantrum. 

Lydia’s appearance makes you take in a breath you didn’t know you were holding, a flow of relief washes over you and you let go of the blonde, taking a step closer to the short manager, seeking her securiness. 

“Who are you?” Your mother’s rage changes targets. 

The brunette barely gives her the time of the day, turning to you with a questioning gaze. 

“I’m alright.” You mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear out of embarrassment. “Mom, look, you can’t see Josh right now, he’s working. Why don’t you and I go out to lunch?” 

“You think I’m going to waste my time with you!?” She screams, her sweet facade sipling further as she steps closer. “This is an important matter, a conversation between adults. I’ve always known you were not a bright child, you never know when to mind your own business.” 

Her saliva lands on your face, the instability caused by her addiction showing its ugly head. You grip Lydia’s arm, speechless as your fist closes on the black sleeves of her overcoat, shrinking into yourself and looking down, trembling chin meeting chest. 

“It’s time for you to go.” Your brother’s manager says, a hard seriousness gracing her features in light of the situation. 

“Ow, got yourself a little dyke dog?” Your mother taunts, completely over the line. 

Her sense of superiority doesn’t last long, however, her expression turns panicked when Lydia raises her finger, calling the building’s security. From afar you can see two bulky men eye each other before following the manager’s request and moving to approach. 

Your mother runs, she does like she’s been doing her whole life, like it’s her specialty. Never looking back to glance at you as she disappears between the crowd walking down the street.

Her escape doesn’t bring the consolation it should, you know it’s not over. If she had shown up in the first place it could mean only one thing; she needed money. And knowing her well, she wasn’t going to stop persuading you or your brother until she got it. 

From your side vision, you can see as Lydia signals the guards again, letting them know they are no longer needed. Everything around you seems muffled, the cars sound fair away and your vision is blurred, it had escaped your notice before, but now you feel the brunette’s strong hands gripping your waist, grounding you to the present. 

“Honey.” She softly calls you, her entire demeanour changing now that your mother is gone. 

Breathing feels challenging and you close your eyes to focus on it, using the technique you’ve learned helps with your panic attacks. Your nails sink into the skin of your free palm and Lydia’s covered arms, and she stays there, holding, waiting for you to recover on your own time. 

“Can you take me home?” You croak out. 

“Of course, baby.” 

The nickname makes your knees weak, you hold in a sob. 

She takes you inside, barking orders left and right for people to move out of the way, ignoring whoever tries to stop her for whatever matter you couldn’t make yourself hear. Her hand rests comforting in the small of your back and you let her guide you, leading you up floors and into the garage, taking control of the situation since you were clearly in no state to do so. 

“Put on your seatbelt.” She tells you and you follow her command like a devoted follower, clinging to anything she says in hope of staying under her light. 

The ride is mostly silent, your head rests against the window and you watch the busy traffic of New York, noticing from time to time how the brunette throws furtive glances in your direction. The knot on your throat grows heavier as each car drives by and you swallow around it non-stop, ignoring the pricking of tears in your eyes as you do not wish to make a fool of yourself in front of the older woman. 

She knows the way to your apartment by heart now, always visiting to run things over with Joshua or keep you company when you’re feeling down. Your brother likes to joke that, much like a puppy who chooses its owner, the manager he has hired for himself actually adopted you as her little project and, even though you scoff at it everytime, he can’t help but be right.

Lydia always makes time for you, you’ve lost count of the many ways she has helped you with college bureaucracy or dropped what she was doing to run an errand with you. Even though she has few clients, her plate is always full, knowing you’re at the front of her mind even with her busy schedule makes your heart warm. 

Being someone’s priority is not something you’re used to. 

Her hand touches your thigh, taking you out of your trance and making you realize that you’ve arrived at the garage of your building. She encouragingly squeezes the flesh under her palm. 

“Thank you for bringing me home.” You force your voice out, whispering inside the car. 

She gives you a tight smile, turning to open the car door before being stopped when you grab her gloved hand. 

“Lydia, you don’t have to stay.” A furrow grows in her brows and you’re quick to clarify. “I know you must have a lot to do on set, it’s still the middle of the day.” 

“Whatever it is that they need, they can reach me through my phone.” She responds decisively, fingers traveling up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll be staying with you. Come on.” 

Her lack of doubt makes your stomach flourish, redness growing on your cheeks. 

It’s good to know she’ll be there with you, at least until your brother arrives. When alone your thoughts could go into dark places and, with the events of this morning, it is inevitable that they would. Lydia’s presence would make them vanish as if they never existed in the first place.  

“I texted your brother, told him I was bringing you home because you weren’t feeling too well.” She says as the elevator door closes. 

No answer comes out of you, but your head moves to rest on her shoulder. You couldn’t tell the exact moment she had done that, but the feeling of being taken care of feels unusual and pleasant, alarm bells going off on your head as your body relaxes into her warmness, relieved that she had thought of explaining your disappearance to the one person you cared about, without telling him the reason behind it.

You’d like to tell him the situation yourself and she knew that. 

There are no impediments in the hallway and you find your keys easily enough in the mess that is your bag, opening the door and breathing in the safe haven that is your apartment. Your gaze automatically strays to the stairs and you eye them longly, craving nothing more than a hot shower to take away all of your problems. 

“Go on.” Lydia’s voice sounds from behind you. “I’ll be here when you get down.” 

Unspeakingly, you softly place a kiss on her cheek, thankful for her understanding, before hurriedly making your way upstairs, not wishing to leave her alone for too long.

The relief brought by the end of the semester didn’t have a lingering presence, the encounter with your mother had, however, increased the exhaustion siping into your bones. A headache starts forming behind your eyes as you make fast work of discarding your clothes and heading straight into the bathroom box, averting the mirror at all costs. 

Turning the tap, you wait, sensing the temperature of the water as it becomes steaming, hot, burning. A groan escapes on your lips when you get under it, the scalding stream meeting your shoulders as you take in a deep breath, feeling the drops running down your back and hitting the white tiles. 

You tense for a second when a sob echoes, leaving you without permission and lonely enough that it could have been mistaken for something else. It is a defence mechanism that takes over you after that. Bottling up the tears and humming a random tune comes natural to you and you wash your hair as if nothing is amiss, avoiding the dark childhood memories that invade your mind. 

The prevented panic attack from earlier had been a victory you intended to uphold.

If you’d normally take forever to finish your shower, this one is over in the blink of an eye. You do everything twice as fast, knowing that the comfortability of the hot stream could make you melt down in a few minutes and wishing for nothing more than to go back to the light that is Lydia’s presence. 

Wrapping a towel around yourself, you pass the sink, grabbing your green hairbrush from the bench and making your way into your wardrobe. Opening the drawers, you stare down. Your drenched hair drips over the clothes and your mind wanders, going everywhere and nowhere at once. You grab your comfortable pajamas; satin shorts and a matching loose tank top. 

You wouldn't leave the house today.

As you make your way down the stairs, you hear Lydia moving around the kitchen. The midday sun shines through the big glass windows into the white tiles of the living room. Your brother’s career was doing well, enough for you to afford a big apartment with separate bedrooms and house supplies that your childhood had lacked, a lot more than you could have dreamed of. 

Your bare feet silently carry you to the dinner table and you sit on its surface, a small habit you’ve had your entire life of placing yourself on top of desks and counters. Lacking the strength to do anything else, you observe the other woman as she opens cabinets, unaware of your appearance. Your dripping strands wet the blue material of your pajama and the brush lays discarded on your side, apathy clings to you like a leech, sucking your vitality. 

Lydia turns and spots you, if she’s surprised by your presence she doesn’t let it show, her eyes barely sweep your figure before she goes back to the task at hand. 

“I’ve ordered lunch.” She says, throwing you a reassuring smile. “It shouldn't take long to arrive now.” 

Surprisingly, your stomach makes itself known at the idea, even though your appetite hasn’t graced you, the biological clock on your body screams for food. You hum absentmindedly, observing as the manager places herbs into a pot and boils water for tea, using the leaves you stock away in case of headaches or restless nights. 

The simple things Lydia does are enough to warm your heart and make your insides flutter, a blush rises in your cheeks. Her caring attitude brings you complicated feelings and the need to be desired and nurtured. You stay seated, barely acknowledging the bubbling emotions. 

She closes the kettle lid, turning her undivided attention to you as the tea rests. When she rounds the kitchen counter, you notice her hands. They are bare, her gloves discarded somewhere in the apartment, the veins are prominent and the skin is thin, covered in wrinkles. When she comes to stand before you, her palm lays on your cheek, thumb caressing your face. 

Her eyes are big, brown and comforting, you feel fragile in her presence. The feeling you imagine is that of a devoted peasant who believes their God will take every problem away from them. She stares at you, taking in your features for what you imagine is a search for any type of distress. She would find none. You couldn’t feel anything besides weightless in her presence. 

Her gaze strays to the damp towel by your side before sweeping the dripping locks on your forehead. There’s no hesitation in her movements as she grabs the white cloth and uses it to squeeze the excess water out of your hair, presenting a softness she seemed to reserve only for you. Her actions are slow, as if savoring your presence and your allowance for her care; she does it as if helping you brings her joy. 

You can’t help the lump that rises in your throat. 

Buching your hair up, she carefully places the towel over your shoulders, running its fluffy material over the wet trails in your collarbones. You feel the redness growing in your face, the prickling in the tip of your nose and the stinging in your eyes as she attentively divides your strands and grabs the hairbrush to untangle them. 

The strokes make you melt, if you were worried about the hot stream of the shower lowering your emotional barriers, it doesn’t even come close to Lydia’s ministrations. You stare at her, catching every wrinkle and details on her face, the close proximity making your breath hitch. She doesn’t seem to mind your observing gaze, runs the hair brush over your scalp and makes you shiver, focused on her task. 

The tears are no surprise, they streak down your cheeks silently. 

The tea boils on the stove, the air around you filling with the smell of lemon grass and ginger. The midday sun comes through the window, washing over the older woman and making her shine, brunette locks glowing like a halo. 

Her eyes snap back to yours when a sob escapes you, worry clouding her brown orbs when she sees you crying. 

“Oh, my sweet girl.” She whispers, settling the green object down and circling your head with her palm, pressing you against her chest. 

The hiccups come out freely now, shaking your body as you clutch her black blouse. Her nails run down your scalp as she lets out light shushes. 

“You’re safe now, baby.” She reassures, resting her chin over your wet hair. “It’s alright, I won’t let her anywhere near you.” 

Her presence surrounds you like a blanket, her warmth disarming your defences as your walls crumble, the rich smell of her perfume making you soft on her embrace. The older woman envelops all your senses until you can’t think or feel anything else besides her. 

Her breasts are a cushion, your cheek pressed against them as your arms circle her middle, holding onto her like your life depends on it. Your breath is uneven, the sobs die down but the tears are persistent as you sniffle to contain them. She doesn’t let go of you as you calm yourself down. 

The hug stretches on, the manager’s comforting words filling the room as you pull yourself together. It isn’t until you dislodge yourself from her that she moves. 

“My beautiful girl.” Her sigh ghosts your face, her thumbs wiping the wet paths on your cheek.  

You stare at her in what you imagine is a pitiful position, she’s centimeters away from you, her expression showing nothing but understandment and tenderness. The way your eyes stray to her mouth is automatic, the support she’s showing you bubbling the feelings you’ve been trying to suppress for months now, afraid of a rejection. 

There’s no doubt you’re the first to make the move, but it is oh so carefully done, hitching closer and closer as you analyze her features, in search of hesitation before gaping the space between you in an encounter of soft lips.

The peck is gentle, insecurity gripping your guts at your show of vulnerability. It isn’t until you feel her fingers holding your jaw and angling your face that you relax, pressing your fronts together as your palms travel up, gripping her nape and groaning when her tongue meets yours. 

Much like a dance, the kiss is in perfect sync, you follow each other's movements as if you had done it a thousand times before. There barely is any time spared to breath, beneath the sweetness of it there’s an urgency, a hungriness for this moment. Her nails rank over your neck and your legs encircle her in their own accord. 

Time stands still, your perception of it slipping as you lose yourself in the woman in front of you. Dying in this instant is something you’d heartily agree too as long as you were able to keep the other woman’s lips on yours. The brunette, however, doesn’t seem to want your downfall anytime soon. She separates to take in a breath.

The air between you is shared as your foreheads touch, your eyes closing to take in what had just happened. Reciprocation was never something you expected from her and, now that you had a taste of it, of her, you could feel addiction clawing on your insides. 

It did run in the family after all. 

“Lydia.” You mumble. 

“Yes, baby?” She responds, fingertips playing with the tip of your wet strands. 

Your palms slowly run down the side of her body before grasping her waist, you hesitate. 

“Tell me what you want.” The manager says, sensing your uncertainty. 

“I want- I need you.” 

She takes a step back, hands falling to your covered shoulder to watch your face. You can only imagine the way you look, wide eyed and pathetic, wearing thin pajamas and mustering all your strength into a pleading expression. 

Whatever it is that she is searching for, she seems to find it in no time.

“I’m yours, baby.” 

The simple answer is enough for the air to get stuck in your throat, arousal building up at the promise of what is to come. 

She is the one that kisses you this time, guiding it into the same slow rhythm as before. There is no hurry in her movements, she savors you as one does their favorite meal, prolonging the taste on their tongue as much as they can. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” You whisper against her lips, afraid she would think this was just a distraction to you. 

This seems to build her resolve, her hands discard the towel on your back as her mouth unhurriedly descends into your neck, planting small pecks and sucking. One of her palms falls to the small of your back, holding you up as your head falls back. She reads you like a book, observing your reactions and the quiet sounds you let out, goosebumps growing on your skin at being touched in a sensitive place. 

A gasp escapes you when she finds your pulse point, lightly running her lips over before softly biting the skin and hearing you moan. Her free hand travels up your body, from waist to collarbones before slowly taking off the blue strap of your pajamas. The thin material falls easily down your shoulder, exposing part of your right breast. You shiver as her nails run down your chest, squirming under her caress when she reaches her destination. 

She squeezes your soft mound, stroking her thumb over your hard nipple and feeling you involuntarily buckle. Your own fingers take care of the other strap, letting the satin fall down your arm and bunch in your hip, eager for her touch on your fervent skin. She smiles softly against your neck before pulling back once again to look at you. This time, though, her pupils are dilated, she’s not searching your face, but drinking in as much as she can of the view in front of her. Your spine curves at the attention and your lower half shifts forward, seeking her touch on your wet folds. 

“You’re so good for me, honey.” She says, mouth dropping to suck the upper side of your left chest.

The praise makes you pudge on her embrace, tears showing themselves once again as you let them fall freely, cascading down your cheeks. 

“Please, don’t stop.” You beg her, afraid she’d notice your crying and take it the wrong way. 

Her big brown eyes meet your wet ones, she gently places a peck on your lips as if to show you that you’re safe. 

Her ministrations don’t meet your urgentness, she tends to you as if polishing a porcelain doll and, as much as your desperation grows in scale, you can be nothing but grateful for the care. Her fingers descend down your curves, landing in your thighs and squeezing them. 

The whine that escapes you is pathetic. 

She plays with the material of your shorts as she sucks a purple spot into your pulse point, marking you as hers. That finally seems to quench her thirst for your neck and her lips brush down to your chest, teeth grazing a path on your skin as she bends your back slightly to close her mouth around a nipple. 

A hiccup rocks your body as it's filled with buzzing anticipation, your fingers tangle in her short brunette hair and your palm rests behind you to hold your own weight. Your hips move on their own, making small circular motions against the desk as her hands reach up to grope them. 

“Lydia.” You breathe, drawing her closer. 

She softly bites the underside of your chest as a response, her digits travel down your waistband and a groan reverberates against your skin when she meets your wet curls. 

“Oh honey.” She says simply, your cheeks burn. 

As if sensing your embarrassment, her eyes find yours. She places a gente peck against your lips, free hand moving up to cup your jaw as she mutters.

“You are so beautiful.” 

Her thumb caresses your cheekbone, her lower fingers stroke your soaked slit. The praise and delicacy combined with the need inside you makes you pull her in for another kiss, legs squeezing her midsection in an encouragement for her to continue. 

She moans against your lips, the salty taste of tears growing on your tongues. Your bottom buckles against her hand when she nears your entrance, only for her fingers to gather your wetness and move up to circle your clit. 

“Please, don’t tease me.” You beg, separating yourself and holding her by the lapel of her shirt. “I can’t take it.” 

The weak timber of your voice makes her shush you softly, wiping the falling tears. 

“Oh baby, no. I’m not teasing you, I’m just making sure you are ready.” 

The concern is sweet, you couldn’t have asked for anyone better at your side in such a sensitive moment, but as much as it warms you, it doesn’t prevent you from pathetically speaking. 

“I’m ready! Please, I just- I need you inside me.” 

She kisses the wet trails on your cheeks, her digits enter you oh so gently, as if afraid you could break in her arms at any given moment. 

As if you weren’t broken already. 

Her palm meets your damp curls, her fingers fill you up and you close your eyes for a second, enjoying the feeling of having Lydia inside you. When she doesn’t move, though, you undulate against her hold, gasping when your clit meets her skin.

She smiles softly at your eagerness, before drawing her finger out and dipping them in again, startling a slow, torturous rhythm. Your head falls forward, resting against her covered collarbone as your hips urge her thrusting, trying and failing to make her move faster. 

“Relax, baby.” Her breath ghosts your ear. “Let me take care of you.” 

Giving in for someone else, letting go of your control, is not something you are used to, the idea usually leaves a bitter taste on your tongue and a sourness in your stomach, but now, you do so naturally. Trust a foreign notion that leaves you lightheaded. 

You relax against her hold, rests your temple on her shoulder and stops to feel the slow build pleasure washing over you. It envelops you calmly, as if out of grasp, working on its own time even if your body screams for it, for release, for the bliss of becoming unthinking for a minute. 

The fingers curl, your breath hitches. Lydia’s free hand takes hold of the back of your knee and pulls you closer, digits plugging deeper and making you shudder. The puffs of air that leave your mouth hit the brunette’s wrinkled neck and return to you, sweat growing on your brows as your body heats up. 

“That’s it, baby.” She encourages, thumb drawing random circles around your clit. “You are doing so good.” 

A whine escapes you at the praise, her black blouse bunching in your hold. Her finger finds the soft patch inside you and the calm thrusting is enough to have your eyes stinging with pleasure, the gentle approach of an orgasm alien to you.  

This type of intimacy is not something you are familiar with - to be coached, unhurriedly and attentively, through the waves growing in your body as it becomes rigid with pent up release. You shift with anxiety at the slow pace, but don't force Lydia to abide by your desires, only sink your nails into her covered shoulders and shiver when her free hand runs up to caress your hard nipple. 

The pinch makes you jump, a chain reaction following the electrical shot up your spine that, even with the unhurried rhythm, has you losing track of the world around you. Lydia applies pressure into your clit as you seize, the circling motion making you groan loudly and unrestrained, your out of reach orgasm approaching all at once as you become rigid. 

She speeds up now, just a little, just enough to have your toes curling and your eyes rolling, white flourishing behind your lids as she hits the perfect spot to have you trembling in seconds. It’s overwhelming and it feels sudden when your peak washes over you. 

The movement of your hip you’ve been trying to contain comes back at once, you meet her palm as you lose control of yourself, goosebumps rising in your skin as your hands squeeze the clothing beneath them. The gasps that leave your lips make you breathless and your vision swims in front of you, blurred by tears of pleasure. Your climax brings in the relief of body and mind as your thoughts are completely clouded by emptiness, the only thing you can do is feel. 

And just as unexpected as it started, it's over. 

The air in your lungs insufficient from the exertion and rush of emotions, you puff against Lydia’s collarbones, forehead resting on her shoulder. The smell of her rich perfume invading your senses as you weakly shift in her embrace, nodding as a signal and whining when she takes her fingers from inside you, cleaning them in the towel, never letting go of you. 

There’s a calming stillness in the ambient, the tea still boils on the stove, the sun shines over you and Lydia as you come back to yourself. 

And, like she had done many times before, the brunette waits, calmly holding you as you breathe, nails stroking your wet strands. 

“Take you time, honey.”  

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Tag list: @awlwgeneraldinosaur @im-a-carnivorous-plant @kenzdawinz @thoroughly--confused @weemswife @justartever @littlemspurrfect @czl4t @greek-freak101 @multixfan @filmedbyharkness @cabbage2000 @theogonia @liliastriangle @sweetcheeksschemmenti @bravewithacapitalb @purple-alien-ufo @cinnamongirlblogsworld @writerspirit @live-laugh-love-lupone @womankissersworld @im-tired-24-7

[littlelovelunette]

heyy how are you?? ok so i was wondering if u could write an angsty vi (i need a good cry) where reader is her lil hookup after Caitlyn left vi, but vi being usually under the influence fucks reader but says Caitlyn's name instead. Reader knows this but ignores it, but one night vi asks if she could stay and reader (who caught feelings) said yes. The following morning, she wakes in Vi's arms but when vi wakes up she tenses, apologizes for staying and even when reader tries to stop her asking if she wanted food or a painkiller vi declined rather harshly and left. tysmmm i love your stories 🧡🧡

Never Me

This one hurt my soul, anon 😭 and you ask me if I'm okay 😭😭😭😭😭 but ima still write it for your sake.

Contains angst, sad ending, my hate for CaitVi

The sheets smelled like sweat and cheap whiskey, the air thick with the remnants of last night's sins.

Vi was laid beside you, body heavy with exhaustion, breath slow and steady.

You turned onto your side, watching her, tracing the sharp angles of her face with your eyes.

Even in sleep, she looked troubled—eyebrows drawn together, scarred lips parted as if on the verge of speaking.

Last night had been like every other before it. Vi would show up at your door, pupils blown wide, knuckles bruised, lips tasting of liquor and regret.

She wouldn’t say much—just enough to make you let her in, just enough to make you feel wanted, just enough to keep you hanging on.

Just enough to let her have sex with you.

She never kissed you, not really. Lips grazed skin, breath tangled in the crook of your neck, but it was never intimate.

Not like it had been with her. You knew that. And you knew that the name she whispered when she came undone in your arms wasn’t yours.

Caitlyn Kiramman.

You heard it. Every time, you heard it. And every time, you pretended not to. It hurt you. Something inside you broke and made you wonder— Oh, to be Caitlyn...

But last night had been different. When it was over, Vi didn’t reach for her clothes in a hurry. Didn’t stumble to the door with a half-assed excuse or a slurred apology.

No, she had laid there, silent, staring up at your ceiling as if searching for something she would never find.

“Can I stay?” she had asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart had clenched so hard it almost hurt. You should have said no. You should have told her to leave, just like she always did.

But you didn’t. Instead, you swallowed down every warning screaming at you and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, you can stay.”

And now here you were, waking up in Vi’s arms for the first time. Her warmth pressed against your back, an arm draped over your waist as if you were something precious.

As if she wanted to be here. Your fingers twitched where they rested on the pillow. You could pretend, just for a moment, that this was real. That you were what she wanted.

That when she held you, it was because she meant to, not because she had nowhere else to go.

Then she shifted.

You felt it before you heard it—the way her body tensed, muscles going rigid against you. A beat of silence. Then another. And then she pulled away.

You turned, catching the hesitation flickering across her face.

Her lips parted, closed, then parted again. “Shit,” she muttered, running a hand through her messy pink hair. “I—”

“You don’t have to go,” you said quickly, sitting up. “I can make breakfast or p-painkiller—!”

“No,” she cut in, voice sharp. The warmth from her body was already fading, leaving behind only the cool sting of rejection. “I shouldn’t have stayed.”

You swallowed. “Vi—”

“I shouldn’t have stayed,” she repeated, firmer this time, shaking her head. “I—fuck, I’m sorry.”

Your lips parted, something akin to reassurance burning in your throat but it felt too tight, you couldn't speak.

Your throat burned. You reached out before you could stop yourself, fingers brushing against her wrist. “Just—wait, please. Let me—”

She yanked her arm away like your touch burned her.

“No.” Her jaw clenched, and for the first time, she looked at you. Really looked at you. And whatever she saw there, whatever emotion cracked through your carefully built walls, it made her flinch.

Her next words came softer. “I can’t.”

Your hand fell away. You nodded, lips quivering form emotion.

"Vi..." Your loved filled whisper fell on deaf ears.

She hesitated.

Just for a second. Then she turned and walked out after hastily pulling her jacket on, the door clicking shut behind her.

You stared at the empty space where she had been, the sheets still creased from where her body had laid.

And this time, when the tears came, you didn’t bother stopping them.

Once again, you were all alone. Left to pick up the pieces of your heart as you built your walls up, higher— higher than before. Scared of being hurt again. But Vi?

That woman was etched onto your heart.

"Maybe, in another universe." You looked up at the door where Vi had left, "Maybe..." Your voice choked from the tears.

"Maybe it was you and I. For once... And it wasn't Caitlyn."

[slutz4marsh]

ROUGH SEX W ERIC. AFAB READER MALE PRONOUNS!!!!!!!! RUTHLESSNESS!!!

eric cartman x ftm!reader

rough sex, restraint, sir kink, denial, soft!eric at the end with aftercare

this is entirely self indulgent sorry chat

You had brought this upon yourself, really.

Eric had tried to be nice to you, tried to be gentle with you because he didn’t want you to leave. So he held back and didn’t do anything that would hurt, at least not badly. And you asked him to be meaner in bed. So really, he was just obliging your request. You should be thanking him.

So he laughed as you cried and sniffled, squirming under him. Your hands were restrained with his own belt as he held your thighs apart, slamming into you with the most force he could muster.

“You fuckin’ wanted this,” he grunted as he snapped his hips into yours, nails digging into your skin. “Begged me for it, even. Now you’re fuckin’ crying?”

He was mocking you as you cried pitifully, whimpering with each rough thrust into your already abused cunt.

Every time you were a little too loud, or you squirmed a little too much, he left a harsh smack to your thigh. 

“You’re a pathetic fuckin’ slut, y’know that?” He grunted as he pistoned in and out of you at a pace that would best be described as relentless. “Nothin’ but a toy. Can’t even stay still while you get fucked.”

You would be lying if you’d said the degrading comments weren’t getting you off faster than anything else had.

Any time you thought you were close enough to cum, he slowed down enough that your orgasm slipped away. It was as if he just knew when to stop.

He knew you well enough that he knew your tells. 

He laughed at you every time you whined in protest, tears slipping down your face.

“You don’t get t’cum ‘til I say so. You got that?” He roughly grasped your chin in his large hand.

You gasped, eyes wide and pupils blown.

“Ye- yes sir,” you answered obediently, like it was second nature,

Eric smirked at you. “‘Least you know your place.”

You’d been denied for so long by now that you were practically braindead. You didn’t know anything except for Eric and how fucking good he was making you feel. Despite your protests and whines, you and him both knew that you didn’t actually want any form of control. 

If you did, you would have choked out the safeword. Eric knew you well enough that he probably would have been able to tell if you needed him to stop. He knew you.

“You’re just a dumb slut for me, aren’t you?” Eric shook his head, his hips stuttering slightly. He was trying to hold out, trying to prolong the amount of time that he could keep you on the edge, so deliciously tortured. Still, he figured he deserved to get off using your body.

He yanked on your hair, forcing your head back. ”Answer me.”

You nodded quickly, wincing as it forced you to tug on your own hair that was gathered up in his large fist.

“I-I’m a- a d-dumb slut, for y-you, a-all for y-you, sir.”

The words were choked out, your breath catching in your throat. You were whimpering, getting close again.

And finally, finally, Eric took pity on you. He thrust hard, thumbing at your perky tdick roughly.

“Alright, dirty boy,” he tsked. “Go on. Cum on my fuckin’ cock, pretty.”

You did, quickly. You started sobbing all over again as you made a mess of yourself and of his cock. 

Only seconds later, he pulsed inside you. Painting your insides white.

You whimpered as he slowed his thrusts, coming to a stop. He removed his belt from your wrists after releasing your hair. He cradled your face in his hands. He was a completely different person now, cooing at you as he held you. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks.

He was so much softer now.

He pulled out gently and wiped you up gently before he pulled you to his chest. He held you possessively, preventing you from leaving. He didn’t want you to leave. He just wanted you in his arms. Forever and ever if he could keep you there.

And you wouldn’t mention it. But you heard him cooing soft words of praise into your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

[mothiir]

a great kindness done

this is a sequel to the fic words rarely spoken but you don’t need to have read that to understand this. the only background is that the POV character is a serf who said one nice thing around peturabo, who responded — calmly and rationally — by dragging her off and jerking off onto her face. @moodymisty hope this is okay I wrote it in one go and couldn’t be bothered to proof read it so it’s not my finest work 😅

cw: power imbalance, dubcon in that no one reallyyyy gets the chance to say no.

—

—

It was not the Men of Iron who felled the corrupt government that held dominion over your planet, but the yellow-clad Imperial Fists, led by their father Dorn — and yet it was the Iron Warriors who rebuilt afterwards, smelted ore from the. cavernous depths of the planet, built barracks and cities and factories, and it is the reconstruction that matters more. Anyone can siege — it takes real talent to build —

“No,” Perturabo says, tearing your dress open with one flick of his wrists, your breasts spilling free. He kicks the door to his quarters closed, hard enough to dent the durasteel. “No, it’s — hard to siege —“

“Of course my lord,” you stammer, rewriting your internal script. “I’m so stupid, please forgive me —“

“Not stupid,” he growls. “Just human, foolish — “

He lifts you up with one hand, effortlessly strong, palm large enough to almost cover your entire arse as his fingers bite into the meat of your thighs. With his free hand, he fumbles at his armour; removing the entire suit would take time, and the assistance of the Iron Circle (he allows no serf near his armour), but he’s in a hurry, and so only bothers with his codpiece. It clatters to the floor with an uncharacteristic lack of care. You imagine the machine spirit within fuming at the ill-treatment.

“—sieging is hard, and rebuilding as well, and the people who hail the Fists are — are misguided, silly little children with shiny trinkets and —“

You don’t get any further into your mollifying speech; Peturabo’s tongue fills your mouth. He doesn’t kiss so much as attempt to lick your skill clean from the inside, his gauntleted hand biting bruises into your buttocks.

“You’re mine,” he says, pulling away. A strand of saliva stretches between his mouth and yours.

“Always,” you say, privately wondering what his reaction would have been had you done more than simply thank the Imperial Fist. For that is what set this whole affair off — all you did was smile, and thank the Astartes, because he had held a door for you. That was that. And here you are.

“Mine,” he growls, again, his voice slipping lower, into a register that sounds more chainsword than human. It frightens you on an instinctive, primal level — like standing before the merciless churning of a great furnace, and knowing that should you fall in, even your bones would be reduced to ash.

“Yours,” you echo. “All yours.”

It has been barely three weeks since the start of your — well, relationship is a strong word for what amounts to kidnap and a permanent assignment to Perturabo’s service. Rather: a permanent assignment to service Perturabo. The work is certainly easier than your previous role — cleaning, some mending, plenty of time on your back — but although the rations are better, you do wish that some of them were not routinely painted across your tits.

“Yes,” he says, and buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply. His forehead crumples, as he huffs annoyance. “You smell wrong.”

“I’m — I’m sorry —“

You can’t help your gibbering apologies, even though you know it irks him when you show any outward sign of fear (“I’m not going to hurt you, you foolish little whore,” he once thundered, in a surprisingly unsuccessful attempt at comfort).

“No. Not your fault. Mine.”

He drops you onto his bed, standing before you, his cock level with your face. He strokes himself — once, twice — then shoves it towards your mouth. It bumps against your slack lips, and he grunts in frustration.

“Open. Now.”

You let your tongue loll out, slurping around his prick; he likes it when you’re messy and wet, drinking him down like he’s the only nourishment you’ll ever receive. For the first three days, you had thought this the case, until you realised that no, he’d just forgotten how often humans were meant to eat — he wasn’t planning to force you to subsist on a diet of Primarch ejaculate.

He rubs his length over your face, almost poking you in the eye a few times, deliberately working his pre-cum into your hair. He likes that as well: leaving you covered in the remnants of his pleasure, often refusing to allow you to wash it off afterwards. You keep your mouth open, like a mindless hole for him to grind against and spill inside.

“Not enough,” he mumbles, and catches your jaw with his index finger and thumb. “Need to be inside — this will hurt.”

You don’t have time to protest, or even ask what he means. He pulls smartly down, forcing your jaw open, and something clicks. Pain streaks up to your ears, and suddenly you can open wide enough to accommodate his cock. He moans satisfaction, and forces himself deeper into your throat, heedless of the scrape of your blunt, human teeth. Your body starts to panic at the lack of air; you want to pull away but you can’t; you want to breathe, but you can only manage strangled sips through your nose, and hurking gasps through a jaw that feels fucking dislocated —

And then it is over, and Perturabo pulls out, and the dark wings of terror beat a little softer. Drool drips from your abused mouth; your eyes stream. You want to ask him what the hell was that, what — and before you can think how to form the words he’s pushed in again, his fingers holding your mouth open, one hand cupping the back of your head to angle you to his liking. It takes him a few bruising thrusts to the roof of your mouth before he gets it quite right, and slides down your gullet in an implacable surge.

He continues like this for long enough that you lose track of time: your world reduced to the thick, sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat; the pain in your jaw; the slap of his balls up against your chin; the smell of him, like gunpowder and hot steel and something else, something completely inhuman. He takes you to the verge of blacking out — your vision blurring, your thoughts growing disjointed — and then permits you a hard swoop of a breath, before pushing back in. When he does eventually cum, it’s as you breathe in — you end up inhaling some of his cum, coughing and sputtering up the last little bit of your dignity, along with a wad of white gunk.

“My — my lord —“ you gasp, trying to form words: give me a moment to breathe, let me rest —

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” There’s an edge to his voice now — needling and hungry. “You’re all mine.”

He wrenches you up by the hair, catches your jaw and feels along the sides. You’re as delicate as a bird next to him, and just as fragile.

“Nothing broken. You’ll be fine.”

“Yes my lord. Thank you my lord.”

He grunts irritably, and you scramble to think what you could possibly have said — and then it occurs to you. Thank you my lord. Exactly the words you’d spoken to the Imperial Fist.

Before you can think of a better way to convey your appreciation, Perturabo has shoved your face back into his groin, this time forcing your lips against his balls.

“Suck,” he says, and you do: rolling crinkly skin against your tongue, taking the warm weight of them in your open mouth. Perturabo, a man of few words at the best of times, directs your mouth back to his cock by dragging at your hair.

The second time he cums it is all over your face. You get a brief reprieve as he wrangles off some of his armour, enough that he can clamber onto the bed without his limbs being held to stiff attention.

Then he flips you onto your hands and knees, slots his cock against your cunt — you feel him snigger at your panicked clench — then slides himself to his more accustomed place: fucking between your bruised, tender thighs.

“One day soon,” he pants, as he thrusts, “I’m going to fill that tight cunt up.”

“Yes — please —“ you reply, exhausted and sticky and barely able to string the words together. “But let me prepare — first —“

He leans over your back, hunching awkwardly so he can lick at your neck, his breath humid in your ear.

“Yes — will split you open — split you open and fuck you full and everyone knows that you are mine —“

He flips you back over before he cums, milking his release onto your chest. You feel his cum starting to dry in your hair, cling to your skin; you feel absolutely disgusting. And yet Perturabo looks at you with a bizarre mix of hunger and tenderness. Like you are just the most precious thing he has had the privilege to own.

By the fourth time, you think he’s starting to calm down. The rest of his armour discarded, the Iron Circle tidying as discretely as war machines can, and he has you stroke him off with your sticky, trembling hands.

“Open,” he says, and you let your jaw hang slack, the hinges still aching. His release spills all down your front as you make a lacklustre attempt to swallow what catches on your tongue.

You don’t think your throat will ever work properly again. Maybe he’s ruined it entirely, shaping it into nothing more than a cocksleeve for his use.

The tenderness is back in his eyes as he lifts something up to your face. Too fucked out and bleary to register what it is, it’s the camera flash that alerts you to the pict he’s just taken.

“Hey!”

“Shhh. This is just for me. Just to see how pretty you are. Just to remind me.”

He strokes your hair, heedless of the cum drying in it, and inhales deeply, grinning at how thoroughly you smell of him. No one will ever mistake you for anything other than his.

“And no more thanking Imperial Fists, yes ?”

“Yes my lord,” you say.

[ladylooch]

Meier Dynamics [Timo x Emma]

A/N: A lil something I cooked up last week that I have been wanting to share with the Meier fam, but also Liv and Luca.

Word count: 1.7k

If Timo Meier gripped his lowball glass any tighter, it would surely shoot through his hands to the ceiling. Whiskey would fly everywhere, covering his expensive attire and causing the exact kind of scene his wife doesn’t like. 

He swallows a thick glob of saliva, then brings the glass to his lips to take a measured sip. His blue eyes don’t move from their target. His daughter may be grown, but seeing a hand like that on her makes his stomach upset more than the whiskey bubbling there.

Luca Fiala holds his daughter like he owns her. Possesses her. Timo should know. He has held his own wife’s neck like that and she’s been his for decades now. No question. 

But Timo doesn’t feel the need to hold her like that anymore. She’s dripping in diamonds, gold, and designer tags instead. She’s carried four of his children. Plus his latest, massive wedding ring set on her finger doesn’t hurt either. 

But Luca doesn’t have his ring on Liv’s finger, or children- thank god, so this is the way he shows who she belongs to. Hands everywhere. One on the back of her neck, then gliding it down to the small of her back. His other hand finds her hand resting on the stem of her wine glass. His fingers filter through hers there making Liv turn to look at him. Her blonde hair breezes over her shoulder and the smile she gives her boyfriend has Timo’s chest aching. 

Wow, she looks so happy. It makes pride and joy bloom in his chest, hot and fiery, expanding his rib cage.

He loves his kids. The best thing that ever happened to him was becoming a dad. But something about his daughter, looking that at peace has him releasing the tension in his shoulders from Fiala’s hands. If Luca makes her that happy, he can live with it.

Or will keep learning to.

“There you are.” Emma murmurs, sliding her hand along his stomach as she steps in front of him. She gets slightly onto her tippy toes, brushing her lips across his. “Mmm, I might switch to whiskey. This wine sucks. Bad year for Cabs, but I didn’t feel like I could decline because Lio’s agent gave it to me.” 

“You can always say no.” He reminds his wife, floating his blue gaze over her beautiful features. “Anyone gives you trouble, send them my way, baby.” Emma smirks, loving his protective nature. 

“I can’t wait to leave. Is that bad? I know we are celebrating our son, but I hate this shit.” She grumbles. “I can’t wait for our family dinner tomorrow tho.” The whole family has gathered in Jersey, celebrating Lio’s long term 8 year contract he just signed with the Devils at a stuffy country club offered up by the team’s owners. 

“I agree. Can’t believe we used to do stuff like this regularly. I’m sorry.” Timo snorts into his whiskey glass, knowing these engagements were usually his fault. His blue gaze raises again to his daughter. Luca’s hand is back on her neck. His fingers massage into Liv’s neck, spread wide and consuming on her skin. Timo licks his tongue across his front teeth, drawing his wife’s attention. She follows his gaze. “I don’t love that.” One finger raises off his glass to point in the direction of Liv and Luca.

Emma sighs, stepping herself into his body so her back is to his front. Timo grazes a hand around her waist, settling on her stomach. Emma casually holds his wrist there.

“Remember we are letting Livy live her life.”

“I remember.” Timo confirms. “Doesn’t mean I have to like that.”

“What? I think it’s sweet.”

“Nothing about that touch is sweet.” 

“How do you know?”

“Because that’s how I used to hold you in a room full of people I wanted to show you were mine. In every sense of the way.” Emma turns back, lips tilted up at the corners in a sexy smile.

“I miss that.” Timo smirks back at her, then runs his fingers up her spine, dipping into each of the valleys between her vertebrae until a chill rolls through her. His thick fingers grip around her neck, then force her forward as his lips drop to hers. “All you have to do is ask.” He reminds her. Their kiss is hot, tongue swipes and mixing breath making the temperature between them rise. He can’t wait to get back to the Ritz and wreck that fancy bed fucking her.

“Ick.”

“Gross.”

Two separate voices sound in front of them. They’re laced with annoyance and a rounded edge of unbothered that is unbefitting of their words. Emma and Timo break apart, taking in their fully grown twins and their annoyed scowls. 

“What?” Timo asks, deadpanned.

“Mom, can we go down to the driving range?” Timo bites his tongue at the way they ask Emma and not him. Their connection with their mom allows them to get away with certain mischief that their dad doesn’t allow. Not because Timo doesn’t love the boys, but something about all that bed rest with them has Emma extra soft with these two.

“Can I see you from here?” She wonders, looking towards the windows on the right.

“Yeah.” They say in unison.

“You lying?” Emma clocks them right away like her husband. “If you’re lying, I’m not going to be happy.”

“Well, you can see part of it from here.” From Timo’s view, it looks like only the net at the end of it.

Emma contemplates, looking over the boys with their big hunched, too cool shoulders and their hands stuffed into their pockets. They don’t want to be here and everything about their appearance says that. It’s why they were given strict instructions to stay where their parents could see them.

“Fine, but drop me your pin. If I see you leaving the grounds, I’m sending the hounds to collect you. They will make a scene. It will be embarrassing.” 

“Mom.” Logan grumbles.

A slicing glare from their father ends that quickly. 

“Hey.” Timo calls them back as they turn to leave. His thick fingers snap together. “Your mom asked for pins. Drop them before you leave that spot.” 

The boys both begrudgingly pull their phones out and drop their location then quickly exit the room. Liam swipes a bottle of white wine that is chilling in a bucket of ice as they escape. At 20, they’ve been drinking for years in Switzerland, but not being able to drink in the U.S. is the biggest source of their irritation for this trip. More than once there were grumbles about why couldn’t Lio have played for a Canadian team.

“Another reason to lay off Livy. She’s the only one who is good.”

“The boys are good… in their own way.”

“Kinda like Luca?”

“No.” Timo scowls. “Baby, I’m telling you, that grip on her is something else.” 

“She has someone who utterly adores her. He takes care of her, he worships the ground that she walks on, and lifts her confidence. So what if he has the kinky hold on her? Good for Livy.” Emma slaps his stomach. “Check your face. Your eyebrows are doing the angry thing.” 

Liv and Luca turn away from the conversation they had been participating in. As they walk, Luca’s hand remains on the back of her neck. Liv seems comfortable and relaxed, even as his fingers stretch around to the front so they’re stroking her throat. In their own world, they stop there, perfectly in view of her parents to make out, tongues touching, lips barely able to from the smiles on their faces. 

When they pull away, Livy’s blue eyes have darkened. They’re wild and untamed like Timo’s tends to be when he’s looking at Emma. Liv rolls her bottom lip into her mouth, a flush rushing up her chest and throat, into her cheeks. 

Timo’s stomach sloshes again. 

“Your face, Timo.” Emma reminds him.

Fuckin’ Fiala. 

The couple continues to walk towards them. When Liv sees her dad’s eyes on her, she skips towards him, then launches herself into his chest. 

“We’ve barely talked today.” She sighs, pulling away with a pout on her red lips. 

Timo swallows the acid in his chest, letting the happiness of his little girl soothe the parts of him that still hate having to share her. 

“We should change that.” He wraps an arm around her to keep her into his side. She rests her head briefly on his chest. 

It’s the first time Luca’s hands haven’t been on her tonight. 

The two men’s eyes meet and moment of understanding passes between them. 

A sign of respect from her newest protector. He knows she is in the best hands now and eases into a relaxed stance, hands in the pockets of his designer slacks.

“Emma, your drink is looking sad.” Luca frowns at Liv’s mom.

“It is, Luca. Come with me?”

“Happily.” He grins. “Livy, do you need anything?”

“Champagne! Then we need to find Lio. Everyone else is hogging him.” Liv sighs. 

“Fucking save me.” Lio mutters from behind Timo and Liv. 

“Come.” Emma waves her hands at her oldest. “I’ll protect you, Lee.” Lio exhales happily, following after his mother. 

“He fits so well.” Liv murmurs of Luca. “A good Swiss man, just like you hoped.” Liv pokes at Timo’s side. 

“Mhm. So happy for you, baby.”

“Aw, you almost sound like you mean it now!” She teases him, looking up at him with bright blue eyes. She’s an adult now, but she may as well be forever 10 in Timo’s eyes. 

“I’m happy if you’re happy.” He reminds her.

“I’m happy.” She nods. “When he asks to marry me, please let him.” Timo chuckles. 

“Anything for you, Livy.”

Timo means that with his whole heart.

Even if it means he has a Fiala for a son-in-law.

If Nico can handle a Wood, Timo can handle a Fiala.

[yandere-paramour]

Chapter 2

"Darling, please calm down. You are still disoriented from your medicine and I do not want you to get hurt."

You froze. Did you just hear that? No way you just heard that. Clearly, something had happened earlier. Maybe this was an incredibly real hallucination. You hoped it was a hallucination.

“Hello, love. It is good to see you awake. I was about to be very, very upset with my hired hand,” The voice spoke again.

It took a little longer than you’d ever admit, but soon you successfully turned your head to your right. Even though you knew something was wrong, knew you were somehow in peril, it made you feel better that that voice was female. She was big, though; you couldn’t quite tell because she was sitting with her legs crossed, but you were pretty sure she was tall. Her body was lean, and although it was covered with her expertly tailored blue-grey suit, you suspected she had considerable muscle. Hazel eyes stared back at you with fondness as she tapped a spoon on the edge of her teacup. Her hair was brown, with those effortless curls you always found yourself attracted to. Unintentionally, you blushed. Had you… slept with this goddess?

You opened your mouth to say something, an apology, a question, a request for help, but she held up a hand, gave you a gentle smile with perfectly straight teeth, and set down her empty cup, “I am so sorry, Darling. I know this must be really frightening for you, but I need you to stay calm. I am not going to hurt you. Now, I did this earlier, but I need to check you over. The medicine you had was strong, so I want to make sure you’re okay.”

She crosses the room and leans over you, still whispering soft words to mollify you. She checks your pulse on your limp wrist, timing it to her watch, then softly pushes your hair back to look into your eyes, “Are you feeling dizzy at all? Nauseous?”

“I-I have a headache. And I’m dizzy.” You manage to say. Your tongue feels like it’s made of lead. A million questions run through your head. Were you drugged? How did you get here? Were you at a bar? Did you sleep together? Why can’t you move?

She frowns, the cupid’s bow of her mouth forming a lovely little pout, “That’s not good. I promise, I will give you some pain relief right after we have a talk. I do not like to see you suffer. You’re going to be on this medicine for a few days so I want you to be comfortable.”

A bit of dread rises in you, “What medication am I on?”

“Just something to help you relax, and only for a few days until you get acclimated.”

“Did you… drug me?”

“I did not do it myself per se, but I did arrange for it to happen. Worry not, I consulted with my personal physician about your medical history to make sure you would not have any negative reactions. I would never make you take anything that would hurt you.”

“Who are you and where am I,” You want to sound forceful but the drug still has its claws in you like an angry tiger.

She gives you another adoring smile, “You are right, I should have introduced myself right when you woke. I am Atalanta Montclair.”

“Atalanta Montclair?” It takes a second for your brain to place the name but it hits you like a bolt of lightning, “You mean the heir to Montclair Industries?”

She looks pleased that you’ve heard of her, “Yes, that is I.”

Horror causes stupid words to flow out of your mouth, “I slept with my boss???”

“No, sweetheart. My hired hands gave you a little of your medicine in apple juice, then safely transported you to my penthouse. I changed your clothes myself; I did not want you to sleep in that uncomfortable uniform. I promise, there was nothing untoward in my actions.”

Despite her words, your alarm only grows, “You kidnapped me?”

“I had you safely transported to your new life with me, Darling. This is now our penthouse apartment, your new home. More precisely, this is the master bedroom, our bedroom together.”

“M-My new life with you? What does that mean?” Thoughts of the worst cloud your mind, “In your bedroom, as your… your sex slave?”

“No!” She says sharply, then catches herself and returns to her poised countenance, “You are my precious Darling, the only one I love and the only one I will ever love. I am devoted to you and you alone. You will be my companion, my partner, the most precious person in my life, and, when you’re ready, my lover.”

“Your lover?” You can’t even form words of your own at this point.

“Yes, my love,” She takes and kisses the back of your limp hand, kneeling at the bedside, “You have my word that nothing will harm you here. I will never touch you sexually until you ask for it.

“You fucking kidnapped me?” You jerk your hand away from her.

She looks shocked at your language, “You would not have agreed to come with me otherwise. I had you very safely transported. I spared no expense for your safety.”

You push yourself into sitting up by sheer force of will, “But you fucking kidnapped me? I don’t even know you.” “But I want to,” She tries to grab your hand again, “I want to learn everything about you, my Darling. Just give me the chance.”

“No!” You swing your legs over the side of the bed, narrowly missing kicking her.

You try to push yourself to your feet, but your legs are still wobbly, and you collapse under your own weight, plummeting to the ground. But Atalanta is in the way, and she catches you. You were right; she is tall. She is at least six feet, giving her seven inches over you. She holds you in her arms, not helping you back on the bed or letting you fall, just what feels like… cuddling you.

“Darling, your hair is so soft. I touched it when you were sleeping but now that you’re awake to give me your permission, it feels exponentially better,” She nuzzles her face into your hair.

“I do not give you permission!” you squeak, appalled at the sudden intimacy. You try to push her away from you, but she cuddles you a little longer, then sets your unsteady form on the bed.

“My apologies, Darling, you are just so irresistible. I will be more respecting of your consent in the future,” She at least has the decency to look chastised.

“The future? How long am I staying here?”

She gives you a confused smile, “Forever, sweet girl. I will never, ever let you go. Now, it is approaching dinner time. May I get something for you to eat?”

You look at her like she is insane (which she is). How the fuck are you supposed to sit at a table and eat your vegetables with the hot woman who kidnapped you?

“Atalanta, please let me go. I don’t have a lot of money, but I can give you whatever you want. I don’t want to be stuck in this room forever. Please, please let me go,” You babble, begging her to come to her senses and hear you out.

An anxiety attack starts to overwhelm you until you are trembling. Atalanta lightly shushes you, using one hand to stroke your hair, “Settle down, love. I’ve got you, and you are safe. Take a deep breath.”

This only makes you want to fight harder, trying to push her away with your shaky arms. She grabs your hands, pressing kisses to the backs of them while keeping them firmly in her hold.

“I promise, my princess, you will never want for anything again. I’ll take care of you. I have enough money for the both of us to live comfortably forever,” She gives a quick kiss to your forehead, “And I would never keep you locked away. A beautiful flower like you deserves a chance to grow.”

She kisses your head again and continues, “You can access the top two floors of the building, those I use for my living space, now our living space. No space is off limits to you, my love. For a little while, you will be restricted to the penthouse unless I am with you, but once you’re a little more settled, we can discuss short trips out by yourself. I have been dreaming of taking you to the theatre, and maybe in a year, we will be able to go.”

“A year?” You screech, floored.

To my credit, she does flinch back from my scream, “Careful, Darling girl, I will not discipline you while you are on your medicine, but that does not mean you will escape punishment later.”

This sufficiently scares you into lowering the volume, “Discipline me?”

She looks vaguely uncomfortable, but pats your head, “I have two punishments in mind, but let’s not get into those until necessary, okay? I want our first night together to be pleasant. Now, back to my earlier question, what may I order for you to eat? Anything you like, sweetheart, just ask. Or I can cook for you if you prefer. I am no chef but I can make simple things.”

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

Maybe you’d waited for too long, maybe the book you chose had bored you until you fell asleep. Whatever it was, you didn’t know you were in danger until the last second, a knife pressing against your throat and a croaky voice that wouldn’t normally belong to a kid reached your ears.

Chapter 7 < > Chapter 9

taglist: @kurai-hono-blog, @katrina0-0

Gotham wasn’t known for its beautiful weather; the blue, clear skies the granted wish given to a shooting star. Rather, her citizens were creatures of water and fumes, so accustomed to the rain soaking up their clothes and fog clogging their lungs.

It was only fitting the sporadic sunny days had ended that moment, the light drizzling had turned into a downpour, caging you in the gazebo, the vines coiled around the posts and the roof frame welcoming the rain.

Sitting down on one of the patio chairs, with your legs leaning against the railing, you watched the water fall, your breathing in sync with the droplets falling from the ceiling onto the tip of your shoe.

One hour had turned into two, the rain long gone but the clouds still as ominous as ever. You debated between heading back inside the manor, your thin shirt ill-suited for the cold that the rain had left, yet you stood rooted in your spot.

How could you go back? What had you given them besides troubles and pain? Being the bearer of the lies their whole lives were, this whole world was, a whole universe that held not a single drop of significance.

A hand spurred you out of your thoughts, hoping to see two gems looking back at you. You held a special place for her in your heart, but masking the disappointment in your face at seeing Cass with a first aid kit on her hands wasn’t easy.

“May I?” She gestured to your bandaged wrists. A nod was her only answer, but yet a small smile appeared on her face. She sat down on the bench, leaving the box on a wooden table. Cass chuckled at hearing the small hiss you let out the moment she pulled out the bottle of alcohol. You’d never been great at handling pain, even less to the degree they all had become accustomed.

Your reddened skin was exposed to the world. The cuts seemed to be healing great, and a part of you was hoping she’d decide they were good enough to not need cleaning. Nonetheless, your hopes didn’t last long, as the cotton and alcohol was the first thing she grabbed.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” She asked with a slight frown, feeling she should be the one apologizing for what she’s about to do. A groan left you the moment she pressed the cotton to your right arm.

“’bout everything my world did to yours. Dick’s and Bruce’s parents, Tim’s negligence, your abuse… Jason’s death.”

Cass was silent for a second and you feared she agreed with you despite being the one to bring up the topic. There wasn’t a single emotion on her face, just calmly changing your bandages. There was rarely one if she didn’t want it to be seen.

“You wrote the stories?”

“No.”

“Is our world shaped by yours?”

You looked at the easing rain. “I don’t know.”

“Why are you apologizing, then?” You opened your mouth to explain once more why— but it came out empty. “Even if we only exist because of you, you did not choose to hurt us. You chose to love us. Despite our flaws and… Traumas, yes, our traumas.”

“But you suffered so much—”

“By people who have no relation to you. Yes, we have suffered, but… I like my life; I have a family who loves me. Despite my… Upbringing. I cannot imagine living without them.”

Being as stubborn as you were, you wanted to tell her that it was your fault somehow, but found you couldn’t fight against her logic. Because that’s what it was, a logical explanation. Silence befell the two of you while she finished changing your bandages. Next she checked your back littered with cuts, the cool feeling of the alcohol not as awful as you expected, soon feeling the shirt’s fabric fall down your skin once again.

𓆩𓆪

Despite the lingering fear of being killed had disappeared from your mind, you still chose to stick to the rooms familiar to you, the ones you could go back to your room rather than free-roaming the estate discovering new areas.

Just because they weren’t going to kill you that didn’t mean you couldn’t get lost and die of starvation.

You mainly stuck to the kitchen, the drawing room, and the library. The latter your option for the day, looking for a new book to chase away your boredom. Neither Tim nor Cass were up yet, from what you gathered at your serene breakfast with Alfred, they both had a grueling night on patrol with several criminals on the loose.

You knew they both knew what they were doing, sharp minds and swift bodies able to dodge and take in whatever they were thrown at. Naturally, it wasn’t easy to not worry. Every night they knocked on your door to say goodnight filled you with dread, sometimes not able to fall asleep until you heard their doors closing for good for the day.

After all, you know how quickly everything can go sour. After...

“Mayor Hill’s re-election campaign has brought up an uproar with Gotham citizens. His less than stellar leadership has been…”

The radio was a source of mixed feelings for you despite everything. Hearing the newscaster mention Gotham City so comfortably and even thoughtlessly as if they were talking about New York, Los Angeles, Seattle or any other real city in the world was a wonder and a dream-like experience. Because, at least here, it’s real.

Who would’ve thought? You shook your head with a grin at the thought.

Besides finding something to pass the time, you also had second intentions about being in here. To run into Jason.

Embarrassment crept up your neck as you let yourself fall onto the couch. You felt like a schoolgirl with a troubling infatuation with a teacher or an older student. Someone that didn’t even know your name yet you would fill your notebooks with hearts all around the pages and your initials.

Because how could you feel something for someone you didn’t know? Yes, you knew about how the fandom wanted him to be. But what if he was completely different? The total opposite? And why did it matter, if you were going back home?

You didn’t want to take the time to understand why every time you thought about going to your universe you’d feel a hollow pit in your stomach. And this time, you didn’t even had the chance to think of it even if you wanted to, for you only had a millisecond to see a hand coming up behind you to press a knife against your throat, a raspy voice following it.

“You have ten seconds to tell me what you are doing in my home before I end you.”

“I’m from another universe.” You blurted out, chiding yourself for saying the least favorable response to your case.

“Tt.”

You recognized that sound. This was it. You survived an encounter with the Scarecrow only to die at the hands of a twelve-year-old. Your chest was heaving, trying to think of something to say to get him off of you, because despite his age and stature, you knew he could so easily twist your hand if you tried to push the knife away.

“Damian!” Luckily, you didn’t have to. The hand faltered and the tip of the blade grazed your skin, the slight burning making you groan. “Leave her alone.”

“I have never seen her, Richard.” His voice had turned distant, most likely turning his head to face Dick. “She could be a danger.”

“You were in San Francisco, Dami.” Dick calmly explained, footsteps getting closer. He took the sharp knife away from Damian as if it was a daily and normal recurrence, not a single show of worry on his body. “She got here a couple weeks ago.”

Without a blade to threaten you, Damian walked around the couch, standing next to you. The scowl on his face seemed more of a fixed expression than ire directed at you.

“Nice to meet you, Damian.” Your hand thoughtlessly moved upwards your neck, a drop of blood staining your finger. He heeded no attention to you, his eyes barely flit to you before returning towards Dick, who’d had made the coffee table his resting place, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“I see. May I inquire what is she still doing here? Why has father allowed her to stay? And what is this about ‘another universe’?”

“Ah, shit… I knew I forgot something…” Dick mumbled while rubbing his neck. His eyes were glued to the floor. He bit his lips once before looking up to Damian, who’d had finished rounding the couch, standing in front of him.

The kid was rigid and his face devoid of any emotion, the only movement of his body was the subtle way he was rubbing his thumb and pointer finger.

“What is it, Grayson?”

In one breath, Dick spoke. “Dad’s missing, Damian.” His breath hitched slightly and the rubbing stopped, yet his face had yet to show any emotion. He was so still you could’ve mistaken him for a statue. “We believe he was sent to Jane’s world.”

“And what have you been doing to rescue him?”

“We’re working on it. Tim already—”

“Tt.” Damian interrupted him, crossing his arms. The way he tilted his head make him seem as if he was looking at Dick with superiority. “You have that fool working on it? Hardly a surprise you have not made any advancements.”

“Actually…” Your voice drew the attention of both. “He’d already created a portal to my world, only… Well, I touched it and it closed. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s me.”

Damian huffed, looking at you as if you’d told him up was down and down was up, but the frown turned into a raised eyebrow after a second, his back towards you once again as he spoke with Dick.

“Does she…”

“Yeah, she knows… Our identities, I mean.” Dick’s voice was filled with fatigue. The older brother forced to watch over his siblings with the weight of the world on his shoulders. You felt guilty seeing him like this because if you hadn’t mess up with the portal, Bruce would be back home already, taking a very deserved long nap.

“Hmm.” Damian’s hum took you out of your self-reproach. The kid had faced you fully, his back straight and hands behind it. “In that case, you better watch who you walk to. If you do anything to harm our family, and that includes revealing our identities, I will end you.”

And you knew he could. He almost did, as a matter of fact. “Yeah, I know. You’ll kill me and make me suffer, yadayada.” Yet his threat did nothing more than bring a small smile to your face, a fond look on your face. “Why don’t you go out and play with Goliath or something?”

His stony façade crumbled. “How do you—?” He stuttered, pupils wildly searching your face for more threats. You laid back, arms resting on the back of the couch and a haughty but harmless smirk on your face. Oh, you so enjoyed looking like a badass, enigmatic villain right now.

Even if your opponent was a kid.

“I know some stuff, child.”

“Who’s Goliath?” Dick asked.

“No one.” Damian hastily replied. And so, he left, not before sending you a heated glare that was met with your fingers splayed open in a childish wave as he walked away.

The moment he was out of earshot, you burst out laughing, and you soon realized how long it’d been since you had an honest smile on your face. Dick looked at you confused for a second, but rather than keep asking he shook his head with a faint smirk on his face.

“I’m sorry.” Dick said. “He’s…”

“Damian?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “He’s a great kid, though. Don’t worry about his threats. He knows better now.”

Well, that wasn’t alarming at all.

𓆩𓆪

It didn’t take being the world’s greatest detective to know Damian was watching you closely.

Granted, you didn’t noticed it the first few days, but ever since he came home you had this unexplained feeling of uneasiness. You thought you were finally going crazy, or that there were ghosts in this house; shadows that didn’t belong or moved in a weird way, silhouettes hiding in the mirrors that were gone the second you snapped your head towards them.

But it all made sense once you accidentally caught him hidden on top of the bookshelves through a mirror’s reflection. And of course, the son of Batman caught you staring just a second after you noticed him.

“Who have you talked to?” He asked, jumping down from the bookshelf and landing neatly without making a sound.

“Hm?” You inquired, for today so far the only one you’d seen was Alfred the Cat, picking him up to place kisses all over his face until he got bothered and left, leaving behind a scratch on your hand. “No one. It’s not even breakfast time, Damian.” You laid on the window nook with a new book in hand.

“How did you know about Goliath?”

“Oh, that.” You opened the first page of the book, the word ‘Index’ being the only thing your mind would absorb, everything else went in one ear and out the other, as you weren’t specially interested in reading. “I told you. I’m from another universe. I thought Dick explained it to you?”

“He did.” His gaze flit to the book’s title for a second before going back to your face. “But it still does not explain how you know something not even father knows.”

“I just come from a world where… Well…” You bit your lip, you had no idea how Damian would take this information and what his reaction would be. It was one thing to tell the rest of the family they didn’t exist, but it seemed specially cruel to say it to a child as young as him. “We have stories about you and your families. Comic books about it all.” There, it’s not a lie, but you’re also not outright telling him he doesn’t exist. “There’s this one of you sparing him when he was a pup. Everyone knows how much you care about animals.”

“I do not—”

“Save it, kid. I know it, you know it, and it’s nothing you should feel compelled to lie about. It’s a truly noble cause to care so much for beings that sometimes can’t defend themselves against the cruelty that is humanity.”

A subtle pinkish hue tinted his cheeks and neck, and the sign of a smile was there for a faint second. “Yes. People can be cruel sometimes.” The smile disappeared with his unfocused gaze, lost in his own memories. He took a deep breath, looking at the ceiling for a second. “Your world… We do not exist in it?”

You should’ve known he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “That’s something I’m trying to figure out, but I’m not as smart as your siblings. But I do think you exist, just… Not as a vigilante.”

“It is safe to assume you read quite a lot about is.” He spoke calmly, more a statement than a question. “I have noticed particularly how… Interested you are in someone. I know the books you have been choosing,” He gestured with his hand the book that was now forgotten on your raised legs. “are those Todd enjoys the most. However, you do now display signs of enjoying them. You tend to stay on the same page for longer than you should. Is this the result of an affliction? Dyslexia, perhaps? I am sure Richard would be glad to help and find a professional to aid you.”

“What? I am— No.” You sputtered, not liking where this was going. Were you that easy to read? Did they already know? Did Jason already know? “No, I’m not dyslexic.”

“Hm.” He began pacing from left to right, a hand on his chin as if to feign thinking. “I have noticed you choose to spend your time here when Cain or Drake do not drag you someplace else.”

“Why are you telling me this, Damian?”

“If you are infatuated with Todd, I will let you know he left the manor the day after I arrived. If you are hoping to run into him here, you are wasting your time.”

Well, that explained why you hadn’t seen him at any meal.

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked again.

“I will not tell if you do not say anything else about my past life to my family.”

“Are you— Are you blackmailing me?” You scoffed at seeing the smirk on the kid’s face. “You little shit… Fine, I won’t tell anything.”

“I shall be monitoring you closely, regardless.”

[rhamrhanch]

Shepherd of Death, Don't Herd Me

Part Six: Rook Takes Knight

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (gender-neutral pronouns)

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort

Next Chapter // Masterlist

A/N: polished the previous chapters. also if this chapter feels short it's because I split the original in half because it was getting too long, so the next chapter should come out in a day or two. thanks for reading!

chapter under the cut ↓

---

Of all the possible factors that made this match so insurmountably difficult, being distracted by your opponent was one you expected the least.

Sleep deprivation clouding your mind was taxing enough, and that was without the added burden of needing to outsmart an omnic in a game of strategy. Not just any omnic either; a Ravager, armed with unrivaled processing power and crafted specifically for tactical decision making in battle. The environment may have changed, but his approach certainly did not. Your hubris would not allow you to admit that perhaps you were in over your head.

Knowing what a considerable disadvantage you were at, you still couldn’t keep your thoughts from straying from the game at hand. It was odd, though, what became the object of your focus. In the moments between your turns, you found your gaze lingering not on the board in front of you, but on your opponent’s hands.

They moved gracefully, always with purpose. When he finished his turn, they did not linger or fidget, always returning to rest on his knees. As if he refused to waste any time or energy letting them idle.

You watched his slender fingers as they picked up the chess pieces, listened to the scrape of the hinges that connected the segments together. The memory of holding his hand between yours, bending his fingers and kneading the rusted joints of his wrist and arm, resurfaced. You remembered how his thumb and forefinger had twitched when you ran your fingertips just below his wrist and up the center of his palm, so fast that you almost hadn’t caught it. You had wondered after that moment if certain parts of his body held more active sensors than others, if his hands were more acutely tuned to sensation than the rest of him.

His hands, cold when they had wrapped around your throat with the intent to kill. The same hands that had circled your waist and pulled you to safety.

Hands that knew the weight of a gun.

It had been a constant nagging thought in the back of your mind ever since you first laid eyes on him. As one of the few Ravagers that remained after the Crisis, he belonged to the ever-decreasing group of people that held the answers to questions you had always harbored.

What had it felt like, to be under the yoke of Anubis? Did he remember any of it, the thousands of omnics he had led into battle? Did his memories haunt him, awakened at random to remind him of what he had done, as yours did? Or was it like this, the omnics he commanded sacrificed as easily as if they were no more than pawns on a chessboard?

“Your turn.”

His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you finally noticed Ramattra’s hand had returned to rest on his knee, signaling the end of his turn. Your eyes darted around the board, searching for any clue as to what exactly he did. After finding nothing, you glanced back up at him.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. What did you do?”

He crossed his arms and clicked in distaste. It was interesting, you thought, that for an omnic with such disdain for humanity, he adopted many of their mannerisms.

“I moved my bishop from here,” he said, lifting his arm and pointing to an empty square and then another diagonal to it four squares away, “to here.”

Your brow furrowed as you analyzed the move. That was not the play you expected. His bishop was suspiciously unintrusive, considering the position of your pieces. You looked to where your knight stood, having edged closer and closer to his king over the course of the game. His bishop was not even in place to threaten it, let alone any of your other pieces.

As the game continued, the bishop remained, a constant presence that confounded you, but otherwise posed no issue. It was not long before you simply assumed that he had only placed it there to take space and would never move it. That is, until you led your king away from the threatening advance of his rook, and he finally pushed his bishop two squares over.

“Checkmate.”

Your eyes snapped up to his face plate in an instant. “What?”

His chin dipped down as he met your gaze. “You cannot move your king. That means you’re in checkmate, correct?”

You looked down at the board. He was right—your king was completely cornered. You had lost. How did you miss that?

“Yes,” you answered softly, dazed by how quickly the game had ended. “That’s… correct.”

“Then I assume I’ve won?”

Strangely, you felt no disappointment in your chest at having been defeated so swiftly. There was something else, something electrifying that rushed throughout your body and prickled in the tips of your fingers. It felt… exhilarating.

The smallest of smiles rose to your face. “Yes,” you repeated, and extended your hand to him. “Good game.”

Ramattra stared down at your outstretched hand for a moment, as if unsure what to do with it. Then, you felt the familiar chill of metal as his fingers slid against your palm, grasping your hand in his. He squeezed your hand tightly for a moment before quickly loosening his grip, as if he had only just realized your hand was not as sturdy as his.

You brought your joined hands up and back down in a curt motion, before releasing him and immediately reaching toward the pile of discarded pieces. “Shall we play again?”

He watched you silently as you reset the pieces. Then, he collected the significantly smaller pile of discarded pieces on his side into his palm and began placing them on the board after you, mirroring your movements.

“Fine,” he said brusquely, his tone contrasting with the gentle way he handled the pieces. “Perhaps this time you will not be so preoccupied.”

Your face warmed, and you sincerely hoped his words came from coincidence and not observation. “I’ll try my best.”

---

“Ah, a Sicilian defense.”

Ramattra paused, hand hovering over the piece he had just moved. “What?”

Your head popped out from behind the book in your hand, titled 100 Chess Openings for Amateurs. After your seventh consecutive loss, your ego had been bruised enough to finally consider assistance from accompanying literature.

“What you just did.”

His tone was one of disbelief. “You have a colloquial term for this move?”

“Well, how else would you remember it?”

“It is the most advantageous move for my position,” he answered curtly. “I do not require a nickname to recognize that.”

Sometimes you wondered if he was being rude on purpose. It wasn’t as though it would have been out of character for him. For the week that you had continued this routine, the few times you dared to ask Ramattra to explain the strategy behind his decisions were shut down immediately. Usually, it was because he had ignored your question entirely, but the few times he did answer, he would say something along the lines of It was the correct move or I had no use for that piece anymore, with little regard to how vague and entirely unhelpful his explanations were.

Though, you supposed you couldn’t hold it entirely against him. From the many, many games you had played and, subsequently, lost against him, it seemed that no matter how hard you tried, outmaneuvering you would always amount to little more than child’s play to him. For someone to whom tactical precision was second nature, trying to explain decisions that were made on instinct would likely be difficult.

On some level, you could relate to that. As an engineer, you’d had your fair share of situations where someone had asked you to explain why you did this or that, and you found yourself searching for the words to explain something that had no explanation. Only that it felt right, so you had done it.

Following the steps outlined in your book, you expanded out with your knight. Ramattra reacted instantly, placing one of his pawns two squares forward. Oddly, it was at this moment that you truly felt the cosmic unfairness of this matchup.

You had not imagined that playing chess against Ramattra would be a walk in the park, but some part of you (an extremely naive part, you now realized) thought it would have at least been manageable. But the rapidness of his movements, the split second it took for him to reach decisions that would have taken you ten times as long…

Ramattra was more than just calculating. He was creative.

He adapted on the spot, molded his approach based on how you were playing. His moves, once defensive, could switch seamlessly in an instant, putting you on the backfoot without a single moment of hesitation. And, perhaps most aggravating of all, was how incredibly fast he learned. Not only were you fighting against his own mind, but all your previous behaviors compounded.

The engineer in you felt the urge to applaud Anubis, to acknowledge how incredible the intelligence forged within its omnium was. But every cursory glance you spared at the omnic sitting opposite from you only served to remind you what he had been created for. Any praise you could have lauded Anubis vanished like smoke in the wind at the thought of what such an extraordinary mind had been wasted on.

A click rung in the air as Ramattra moved his rook, its quartz base tapping against the smooth surface of the board. You glanced back at your book, an idea forming in the corners of your mind.

Holding your chin in your hand, you fixed the Ravager with a look of faux concern. “What an odd play. Are you sure about that?”

Ramattra said nothing. His face remained expressionless as always, but you felt his scrutinizing gaze pierce through you. “How so?”

You hummed, pretending to scan your book closely, before shrugging your shoulders. “If you think it’s fine, then I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

He fell silent again, folding his arms across his chest as he considered you. You fought every instinct you had to break as you met his gaze, lifting your chin in a show of confidence. There was the telltale hiss of air from his vents before he spoke again.

“You are trying to mislead me.”

His instant identification of what you were doing rattled you a little, but you put on a show of innocence as you asked, “What gave you that impression?”

He tilted his head down at you. “You are not a convincing liar.”

As if to prove his point, you scowled and dropped the act immediately, letting your book fall in your lap. “Fine, you caught me.” A wry grin made its way onto your face. “I should have known better than to try to trick you.”

“Yes,” he said coldly. “You should have.”

Your face fell. There was a harsh bite to his words, almost resentful. It was so unexpected that it slammed you back to the present, and you were suddenly reminded of the reality of what you were doing.

This was not a casual game of chess between companions. You were not doing this for fun. The only reason you were doing this at all was to stall for Winston until he found some leverage that could convince Ramattra to cooperate.

He had no interest in you or the outcome of this game. The only reason he had even agreed to this was because he had nothing else to do on account of being imprisoned. Because of you. Because he was the leader of Null Sector, and you were an engineer for Overwatch.

You cleared your throat, avoiding looking at his face plate as you reached toward the board.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the game.

---

Ramattra watched you leave, chess box tucked under your arm as usual. You lingered by the closed door until the sound of multiple automatic locks clicking into place resounded in the quiet. Your footsteps echoed behind you as you walked to the other end of the hall faster than usual, before silence settled around him once again.

Only once you were fully out of his sight did he allow his shoulders to fall, bringing a hand to his face plate as his vision blurred with static. The same red warning message blared on his HUD as it had for the past week, signaling his lack of power. It had been at a manageable level for a few days, but it seemed he was finally reaching his limit.

He relied on his ship’s circular power relay for recharging, but it had been… How long had it been since his power cores were last at full capacity? Before he met you, certainly, which had been after his attack on Gothenburg. That was a few months ago.

He had started entering brief rest periods in your absence to conserve what little energy remained in his power cores, but it would not last forever. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed how weak he was, and there would be little he could do to resist whatever Overwatch decided to do with him.

Ramattra cursed his lack of foresight. Rarely did he ever allow the periods between recharges to lapse this much, but with the responsibilities of leading Null Sector falling solely on his shoulders now, it was difficult to dedicate time to maintaining himself. Not for the first time, he felt the overbearing weight of his solitude. He should have let Talon find you, and he would have never ended up here.

You, who he had initially thought of as nothing more than a human engineer who reserved a moment of kindness for a Ravager, had now become a constant that his days revolved around. To his surprise, your presence had actually grown to something he looked forward to.

The hours spent in your company, playing a simple game in the quiet serenity of the conference room… Yes, he supposed he had come to enjoy it, if only a little.

He could not help but be impressed by the rather stalwart defense you put up against him. Even during your first match, what he expected to be a relatively simple defeat took him longer than he anticipated. Learning from your moves, planning several turns ahead how to outmaneuver you… it was almost fun.

But with that thought came the ever-present feeling that he was wasting time. Every day that passed with him still caged in this room was another day he could have spent rebuilding his forces, planning his next invasion. He still needed to consult with Talon about retrieving his drowned ship. Even partially destroyed, it was still better than having to build another from scratch. But instead, here he remained, no further along in his plans than he was the day he woke in your workshop, mangled and half-functioning.

Perhaps that had been your intention. To waste his processing power on something so trivial, so he would not have the wherewithal to think of anything else. You claimed your motivations were innocent, but what reason did he have to trust you, someone who had betrayed him once before without a second thought? If you saw him in this state, what reason did he have to assume you wouldn’t take advantage of his weakness?

When once you so fiercely guarded your thoughts from him, now you spoke to him casually, almost familiarly. You spoke to him, smiled at him, even dared to joke with him at times, as if you were simply two acquaintances catching up over a game of chess. As if you were not an agent of Overwatch, and he was not the leader of Null Sector. As if you were not a human, and he was not created to kill you.

When he escaped from this place, and he would escape, did you think he would change his mind? That he would abandon his righteous cause, simply because one human spared him from their hatred?

You should have known better than to be friendly with him. You should have known better than to speak with him, to take pity on him, to thank him, to betray him.

In the end, he would only be your destruction.

[opposums-love-arson]

Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 7

Chapter 6 / Chapter 8

P.S. lmk if y'all would like to be added to the taglist <3

Before I knew it the party was coming to a slow and kids were leaving. It makes sense since it’s like 8:45. Parents have gotten strict with curfew considering all the stuff that’s been going on. Sid and I were standing at the front doorway with Stu. 

“Tatum c’mon!” Sid shouted, really wanting to leave now. 

“Nobody here but us chickens!” Someone shouted from the house, then they started klucking…?

“Do you know where she is?” I asked Stu.

Looking around he says, “I haven’t seen her anywhere,” with a shrug.

Just as Sid and I were going to walk out Billy jumps in the door frame making some weird noise and scaring Sid in the process. 

“Oh, Billy hey,” She said with an uneasy expression.

“Billy, hmm what are you doing here?” Stu said looking in between the two and scratching his chin with his index finger.

...yeah, what is he doing here?

“Was hoping I could talk to Sid alone,” Billy said, looking at both Stu and I. 

Sid couldn’t see it because her back was facing me but I had a slight hurt expression on my face. 

“Ya know if Tatum sees you here, She’ll draw blood,” I tell Billy in a very agitated and frustrated tone. I was ready to grab Sid and just leave without Tatum, sorry. 

Before I could do anything Stu grabbed me by the waist locking my torso in when he said, “I’ll tell you what, go up to my parents’ room, ya’ know you guys can talk,” slamming his fist into his hand making my body move side to side a bit.

 “Or whatever,” Stu says again, drawing the word out.

“Stublty Stu, ya know you should look it up,” Billy said, shying his head away to the side. 

Sid looks at me, unsure of what to do. I think about it for a second but I know how much they care for each other… obviously. 

I smile to her and nod. 

Looking back at Billy she said, “No it’s okay, we do need to talk,” grabbing Billy’s hand and leading him upstairs. 

Billy was about to punch Billy before he saw me. He put down his fist and gave a guilted look. 

Stu let me go once Randy came into the room and asked, “What’s leatherface doing here?” 

Leatherface would never betray someone like that… rude. 

“Came to make up,” Stu said in a tone that people usually use when they see a small puppy. 

“There goes my chance with Sid, dammit,” Randy said, stepping away from Stu and I.

“As if,” Stu paused, “That’s all I’m saying, as if.” 

Looking over at me Randy gave a confused look. 

Shutting the door I cleared, “He’s saying you never had a chance, Randy.” 

I tuned out to whatever Randy said next, I just had the intention of catching up with Stu. “What the fuck Stu?” I asked, tugging on his robe that looked just like the last one. “What?” He asked, feigning innocence like he didn’t know what I meant. “Why would you and Billy do what you did hours ago then just switch up like that?” I asked, hurt but discrete about what I’m saying. You never know who might be listening. “Look we talked and he just decided not to,” Stu said with a shrug and that ridiculous stupid grin that makes me want to punch. Wouldn’t be the first time. “Just decided not to? After five months, really Stu?” I asked as I teared up, crossed my arms, and hung my head low. Stu hugged me and motioned to other people a drinking signal with his hands and then pointed down at me. “Look (y/n), I wasn’t supposed to tell you this but the truth is...Billy just wanted to use you to get closer to Sid. I on the other hand am still free for the taking,” Stu said as he crouched down to my level and held me by my upper arms. “No you’re not, you still have a girlfriend,” I laughed a little as I wiped the tears from my eyes. I looked to the side, I didn’t really want to make eye contact with a liar right now. Stu shook his head and said, “Nah Tatum and I were talking in the garage and broke up,” as he waved his wrist. “I still don’t know Stu… I mean you two just broke up, if anything we should wait-” I was cut off from my sentence when Stu straightened up and hoisted me up, pushing me against the wall before kissing me. Kids around us were cheering, whether it was for us or the girl who just got slashed on the screen, I wasn’t sure. At least I think it was the screen? I just heard distant screaming, it totally could’ve been two other teenagers who were “talking” upstairs. “Stu what the fuck?” I asked as he placed me back down. “What I thought that’s what you wanted?” He asked, putting his hands up in a ‘I surrender’ sort of way. “Yeah but not like this…” I said as I crossed my arms. Stu grabbed one of my arms and twirled me around. “Look, I’m single, you’re single, so let’s just mingle.” He chimed into my ear. I pushed him lightly as I rolled my eyes and gave a soft smile. 

  Stu and I made up, now we’re sitting on the couch with a group of people watching Halloween, one of my favorites and one of the iconics.

“Wait wait, here it comes!” A kid said at the scene of Bob opening the closet to reveal Michael. 

Woes and ‘no ways’ could be heard from the group as they jumped back. 

“Awe man the color of the blood is all wrong! Why did they do that, it’s too red?” some kid shouted. 

“They probably just used food dye and squibs like almost every other movie,” I mumbled as I sat uncomfortably on Stu’s lap.  

“Wait, here comes another!” Randy said as he placed his fist on a kid’s knee. 

“Oohs” and a loud “Yes!” could be heard from the group. 

“Predictable, I knew he was gonna buy it.” A kid said from behind the couch.

“How can you watch this shit over and over?” Another one said. 

I was going to say something but Stu blurted out, “I wanna see breasts, I wanna see Jamie Lee’s breasts. When do we see Jamie Lee’s breasts?!” as he held out his hand. 

I just rolled my eyes. 

“Breasts? Not until Trading Places in 83, Jamie Lee was always-”

I interrupted by saying, “She’s the final girl, you’re not going to see that stuff from the heroine of the movie.” 

Randy furrowed his eyebrows at me before saying, “That’s why she always outsmarted the killer when they chased her, only virgins can do that, don’t you know the rules?” 

“What rules?” Stu asked. 

“Oh no, here he goes…” I groaned as I threw my head back. 

“You-” Randy paused the tv, “Jesus christ, you don’t know the rules?” He asked as he stood up and grabbed his beer. 

“Have an aneurysm, why dontcha?” Stu said as he looked up at the soon to be babbling buffoon. 

“There are certain RULES that one must abide by to successfully survive a horror movie. For instance, number one; you can never have sex!” Randy zipped his arm to the right. 

An uproar of booing came from the ‘audience’ of Randy’s lecture. I just sunk lower into Stu’s lap. 

“Hey, no, big no no!” Randy shouted as everyone threw popcorn at him.

Stu said something I didn’t quite understand then stuck his tongue out, how the fuck is it so long? 

“Sex scenes yeah, okay rule number two; you can never drink or do drugs!” Randy stated as he pointed outward with an ‘ok’ symbol hand. 

Everyone clinked their beer glasses together while I, once again, sunk lower into Stu’s lap.

That was before Stu patted my leg, signaling me to get up. So I did. 

A kid clicked bottles with Randy as he said, “It’s a sin, it’s an extension of number one. And number three; never, ever, under any circumstances say ‘I’ll be right back’ cause you won’t be back.”

“Getting another beer, you want one?” Stu asks Randy as he stands up straight.

“Yeah, sure,” Randy says as he waves off Stu. 

Stu screamed out, “I’ll be right back!” Leaving the room with kids screeching and ooing, 

“See you push the laws and you end up dead,” said Randy as he held out his beer, “Okay I’ll see you in the kitchen with a knife.”

  After Stu came back with the beers everyone let out some sighs of relief and we continued watching the movie. “Were you scared?” Stu whispers in my ear. “Huh? Of what?” I asked, turning a little so I could still see the tv screen. “For me, were you scared I wouldn’t come back alive?” Stu joked as he poked my side. “Yeah I was definitely scared. I was ready to start crying and hunt down your killer like the sorority girls in Black Christmas,” I whispered before letting out a small laugh.

  It felt like minutes before Stu was walking people out of the house. I posted up on the kitchen counter just sitting and eating snacks. I decided I’ve watched enough horror for the night, which is so weird even for me to say. I think I couldn't take anymore of the kids’ screaming and shouting every time something small happened. Stu came in briefly earlier to give me a kiss on the cheek as he went to get more beers. I was eating popcorn before I heard Randy say, “Listen up, they found Principal Himbry dead. He was gutted and hung from the goal post on the football field.” That’s enough popcorn for one night… A bunch of kids ran out the front door and were hitting the walls. 

Tag list: @katie-tibo @thatoneuchiha

[m-jelly]

Ulterior Motive - Chapter 7

Levi x reader

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, mafia, Gangs, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Gangsters, Yakuza, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, True Love, First Love, Yandere aspects, Protective Levi Ackerman, Possessive Levi Ackerman, Tattooed Levi Ackerman, Blood and Violence, Eventual Smut, Childhood Friends

In this chapter: You and Levi had your first ever fight, but you work through it quickly. You and Levi share a sweet moment before you go out without him knowing and get revenge.

Ao3

Ending

When you woke up in the hospital, it was clear that people had taken great care in making sure you were comfortable. There were lots of blankets, cushions, soft lighting, cuddly toys and even some pictures. It was like you’d been fully moved into the room. It warmed your heart to see how many people worried and cared for you. There were too many gifts to count.

It surprised you to wake up alone, but you assumed that they’d gone to take a call or get something to eat. You sat your bed up causing a bit of pain to spread through you. Your arms were covered in bruises, there was almost no normal skin colour. One wrist was bound and the other was wrapped up a lot. Your leg was in a cast with signatures already on it, it was like a love letter to you for when you woke up. You realised that you couldn’t see out of one eye, meaning you had a patch on it.

You looked around the room for a moment and saw Levi walking in. The bags under Levi’s eyes were heavy but there was also a redness, meaning he’d not slept and had been crying. His hands were bound up to show he’d punched the man so hard he’d hurt his hands. He looked very cute to you, you just wanted to give him kisses.

You smiled a bit. “Hello, Levi.”

Levi flinched at hearing your voice. He stared over at you as tears filled his eyes. “You…” He moved closer as he said your name. “You’re…” He hurried over to you. “You’re awake.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He sat on the bed and cupped your face. “My darling bunny. I’m so glad you’re okay.” He kissed your face loads. “I missed you.”

You hugged Levi. “You were in my dreams. How long was I out?”

He pulled back and started cleaning your face of all the dried blood. “Not long, only a day. The doctor says it was normal because your body was working a lot to heal you.”

“I’m sorry I made you cry.”

Levi kissed you. “You didn’t make me cry.”

You caressed his cheek with your weak hand. “Are you sure?”

He leaned his head against your hand. “You are so beautiful.”

You hummed a laugh. “Something must have happened to make you cry.”

He released a long sigh. “I haven’t slept since you’ve been here. I’ve been making those men talk. I then hunted down Frank Cassio.”

“You hurt him?”

“Badly.” He lowered his head. “I cried because I was worried about what you’d think about me after I beat him within an inch of his life and took everything he owned. I assumed you would be terrified of me.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him in for a kiss. “I love you for you. Besides, I watched you beat that six-foot-odd monster of a man.” You purred. “It was incredibly sexy. You overpowered him, it was incredible.”

He smiled at you. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

You lightly touched under his eyes. “You should sleep. You’ve not slept since the last time we were cuddling in bed together.”

“I had a lot of work to do. I needed to make sure those men paid the price for touching what is mine.” He nuzzled your hand. “I worked very hard.”

“You deserve a reward.”

“I wasn’t expecting one, but I would love one.”

You giggled at the sparkle in his eyes and how excited he was. “Oh, you found the ring.”

He admired his left hand. “I did.” He showered your face with kisses. “While you’re on bed rest, you could look at wedding magazines and on our tablet.”

You squeaked in delight. “Yes. I can’t wait to plan with you. We’ll make it perfect.”

Levi held your hand and kissed it over and over. “We will. Can I get you anything?”

You nodded. “I’d love a drink and something to eat.”

“I’ll get you anything you need.” He got up and walked over to the water jug. “What food?”

You groaned in thought. “A burger. A nice juicy burger with lots of fries.”

He tapped away on his phone. “Milkshake?”

“Please.”

He handed you a cup of water with a straw. “Drink.” He kissed your forehead. “All ordered for you. It should be brought over soon.”

You gulped down water and sighed. “So, when do I meet your parents again? It’s been years.”

Levi blushed. “When you’re better. I don’t want them seeing you like this.”

“Cause I look bad?”

He shook his head as you giggled. “No, it’s because they might think I can’t look after you correctly and I’ll get an ear full from my mother and father.”

“An earful!?” The two of you looked over at two people, both incredibly attractive and one was almost a spitting image of Levi. “Levi Ackerman, explain yourself.”

Levi winced. “Mum, I can explain.”

“Explain!? I’d love to hear it!”

Levi let out a long sigh. “It was just…well…”

“You’ve been engaged to this adorable woman all this time and you didn’t set up one meeting!”

Levi frowned. “What…”

She walked over to your other side. “Hello again.” She lightly touched your cheek. “You’ve grown up into such an adorable woman.”

You giggled. “I wish I looked better.”

“You’re a dream.”

You smiled at Levi. “You’re just like your mum.” You gazed at her. “You look amazing Kuchel. I can’t believe the last time I saw you and Sebastian was when I was a young teen.”

Kuchel sat on your bed. “That’s right. I always knew you two would end up together.”

You held Kuchel’s hand a moment before looking over at Sebastian. He had the same eyes as Levi and a harsh look, but you knew he was as soft as anything. Levi got a lot of how he reacted to you from his father. Sebastian was incredibly protective of his wife and son, he would do anything for them and had done a lot. He often spoiled the two of them. He was a bit taller than Kuchel, had wide shoulders but a slim waist and was what people referred to as a lean build that was often seen in dating sims. His hair was a beautiful raven black like Levi’s and was combed back in a beautifully soft and puffy way.

Sebastian hugged Levi against him. “Good to see you, son.” He smiled at you. “You too. I can imagine you wished this was a better meeting.”

You hummed a laugh. “A bit, yeah.” You gasped. “Sebastian, please don’t cry.”

Kuchel hurried over to her husband. “Oh, my sweet bear. You’ve got a good heart.”

Levi leaned his elbows on the bed and placed his head in his hands as he groaned. “So noisy.”

You played with Levi’s hair. “I love you.”

Levi lifted his head and smiled. “I love you too.”

“Kuchel? Sebastian? Do you want to sign my cast?” You giggled as they both said yes and hurried over. “Thank you.”

Levi stood up as he held his phone. “Food. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thank you.” You watched Levi’s parents for a bit. “You two are so deeply in love.”

Sebastian squeezed Kuchel. “This woman is my everything.”

You fiddled with your bed cover. “Are my parents okay? I’m surprised they’re not here.”

Kuchel gasped when you started crying. “Oh, oh darling.”

Levi walked in and saw you were in tears. “What did you say to her!?” He put your food and drink down and sprinted over to you. “Bunny.”

You sniffed. “Where are my mum and dad? Why haven’t they come to see me? Did I mess up? Did I upset them?”

Levi cleared your tears away. “Darling bunny cakes, they are here. They were the first people I called and they were the first people in this room.”

You whined. “Why aren’t they here now?”

He gulped. “I uh…told them…that…well…”

“You haven’t told them I’m awake yet?”

He smiled at you. “Bun-bun love. Bunny cakes. Bouncing bunny.”

You pouted hard. “Levi.”

“I’m sorry, I just…you were broken in front of me. I…I just wanted you all to myself.” He let out a long sigh. “I’m selfish, I know.”

You released a long sigh. “Can everyone leave?”

Levi squeezed your hand as his parents walked out. “Bunny.”

You pulled your hand from his touch. “Everyone.”

Levi backed up a bit. “I’m sorry.”

You gulped hard as he left the room allowing you to be alone with your thoughts. You loved Levi so much, he was your soulmate, he was your forever but you could have died and that’s frightening to your parents. You understood that Levi found you being choked to death, that you were so badly beaten he didn’t recognise you, you couldn’t imagine what thoughts were going through his head as he rode with you to the hospital while you were out of it. You couldn't comprehend what Levi went through while waiting for you to wake up. Levi knew who sent people after you, meaning getting beaten and almost killed was due to you being Levi’s fiancée. This wouldn't have happened if you were not with Levi, so this must be hurting him badly.

You put your head in your hands and sobbed. You didn’t know what to think or feel. You loved Levi so much. You felt terrible for kicking him out. You wanted him to hold you, kiss you and protect you. You wanted Levi to tell you that everything was going to be alright and he’d kill everyone who dared hurt you. Your feelings were complex. You were mad at him, but you slightly understood. If you were in his situation, you were sure you’d probably do something similar.

You looked up and smiled. “Mum, Dad.”

Your mother, Cathy, rushed towards you and held you. “Oh, my sweetpea.”

Your dad, Dead, sat on the bed and held your hand. “We’re so glad you’re okay.”

You sniffed a bit. “I’m okay. So, you’re not mad at Levi, are you? I understood the dangers that would come with being with Levi. I knew I could get hurt, so please don’t hate him.”

Cathy frowned. “Hate him? Sweetpea, we don’t hate him.”

Dean smiled. “We love him. He’s a wonderful lad.”

You gulped. “But he didn’t tell you I woke up.”

“He’s a man in love, deeply in love, his focus was on you and being happy you’re alive.”

Cathy nodded. “Your father is right. He blames himself for this.”

You frowned and felt a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

“Levi poured his heart out to us after we first saw you while you slept. Levi said told us everything. He blamed himself for it all.”

Dean nodded. “Poor lad cried his eyes out.”

You gripped your bed cover. “Levi said he didn’t cry because he felt bad. He said to me he cried because he was worried I’d hate him for hurting the bad men.”

Cathy put her arm around you. “Please don’t be mad at him.”

“I’m not. I’m just realising how much he does for me.” You sniffed as tears ran down your cheeks. “I feel bad for kicking him out of this room.”

Cathy wiped your tears away. “It’s going to be okay.”

You kept sniffing. “I feel bad. I don’t know what to think or feel. He didn’t tell you both I was awake, but you’re okay with it.”

Dean smiled. “We understand. You have a right to be a bit annoyed at him, but please be a bit softer on him. You could have died on his watch. There’s nothing worse than almost losing the person you love most because of something that’s possibly caused by you. While you were out, Levi was blaming himself over and over again and trying to fix things. This was all out of his control. It’s hard for a man who’s tough and has this city under control to lose control.” He looked to the door. “He feels weak like he failed and that maybe this man Mr Cassio was right. Be gentle with him.”

Cathy kissed your forehead. “He’s a wonderful man. We love him a lot. We’ve always loved him.” She held your hand as she said your name. “I’m going to send him in here after we leave, okay? Make up with him. Forgive him. Love him. You’re good together. Also, over these next few weeks while you’re healing, let him nurse you back to health and let him be a bit overly protective.”

You hummed a laugh. “He’ll be super protective.” You felt your heart flutter. “It’ll be cute.”

Dean patted your leg. “So, what do you say? Will you talk to Levi and forgive him?”

You looked from your mother to your father over and over. “I…”

“Don’t let this fight come between you both. It’s your choice, sweetheart.” Your dad smiled and ruffled your hair. “We’ll support you. This type of thing might happen again, but then again it might not at all. You can’t predict what will happen in life. Even if you left him because you couldn’t forgive him and life was too dangerous with him, that’s okay but something bad could happen to you being away from him. You don’t know what life has in store for you. If you stay with him, he could protect you and love you but it also could mean you could get hurt again.” He released a long sigh. “Make the choice you won’t regret. Think about it. Five years down the line you’ll either be single and working another job or married to Levi with kids.”

You laughed. “That soon?”

Cathy giggled. “Of course! The two of you are so passionately in love. Kids will arrive very fast.” She got up and kissed your cheek. “We love you.”

Dean pinched your cheek. “We love you so much. We’ll be back later, we have to talk with the in-laws.”

You smirked. “In-laws, cute.” You waved goodbye to your parents and started eating the food Levi brought you as you thought. You gulped down your shake and smiled when you came to a decision. “Levi?”

Levi peered around the door. “Bun…” He winced and said your name instead. “I uh…how did you know I was here?”

“Well, I know it’s hard for you to leave me alone. I’m also assuming my parents told you to come back.”

“Y-Yes.”

You waved to him. “Come in. I want to talk.”

He closed the door behind him and approached you. “I’m deeply sorry.”

You patted a spot next to you. “Sit.”

He hurried over and sat on the bed. “I should have told them. I shouldn’t be making excuses. They’re your parents.”

You tangled your fingers in Levi’s hair and kissed him. “Levi, I love you. I love you more than anything. I cannot see my life without you. This happened because Cassio made a choice, not because of you.”

Levi’s eyes widened. “How…your parents, they told you.”

You smiled sadly. “I knew you’d cried because of that. You didn’t need to hide that.” You caressed his cheek over and over. “I think it’s sweet.”

He pressed his cheek against your hand as he smiled at you. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“I know.” You released a long sigh. “I’m not going to say I forgive you.”

Levi looked pained. “Oh.”

“Because there is nothing to forgive. You acted with love. You kept my parents in the loop and you talked to them right away. When you saw me awake, you just wanted to be with me. Your focus was all on me being alive and in your life again.” You smiled at him. “I would have done the same as you. I love you. I deeply love you. You’re going to be my husband. We cannot predict what the future holds. Living without you is far more scary and horrible. We’re stronger together. I know you’ll protect me if we stay together. Plus, why the fuck would I leave the man I’m obsessed with, have fantastic sex with, who loves me so much he’s wiped out a whole gang. I love you and you love me.”

Tears ran down Levi’s cheeks. “I love you. I love you so much. I don’t deserve you, I really don’t but I’ve been blessed with your love and presence.” He kissed you over and over. “If you say yes to staying with me, I am never ever letting you go. You hear me? You’re mine, forever.”

You smiled at him. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

You giggled. “Well then, I’m all yours. Forever.” You opened your arms. “Please, lie with me?”

Levi climbed onto the bed and laid his head on your breasts. “I will make this up to you, I swear.”

You kissed the top of his head. “You don’t need to. Just be there for me.”

“But.”

You hummed. “How about you nurse me back to health, hmm?”

“Got it.” He squeezed you.

You slipped to the edge of your bed and sighed. You were glad to be home and not stuck in the hospital anymore. All your stitches were out and the bandages off. Your voice was back to normal. It sucked you couldn’t work, but you were sure that your days of working were over and you were a stay-at-home girl now because of the dangers. You liked it.

You pushed yourself to your feet, grabbed your crutches and moved to the bathroom. You finished up and left the bathroom to see Levi was stood there looking a bit annoyed. “Oh, hello Levi!”

He scooped you up making you squeak. “No moving around.”

“I needed the toilet.”

He sat you in bed. “Don’t leave this bed without me.”

You nodded. “Okay.” You wiggled your toes in your cast. “Can you sit with me?”

He climbed onto the bed and cuddled up to you. “What can I do for you?”

You nibbled your lip. “Can we wedding plan a bit more?”

He kissed your temple. “Of course. Do you have the tablet?”

You grabbed it from the beside and snuggled up to Levi. “Is there anything you really want?”

“To marry you as soon as possible.”

You giggled at his comment. “Cute, but we need to talk about the wedding.”

He cuddled you. “Mm, well how about wildflowers.”

“I love them.” You leaned the side of your head against his shoulder. “I’ve been looking at venues, but nothing stands out massively. I just want something simple but I know you’ll want to show me off.”

“I want to marry you somewhere as pretty as you.”

You stared at Levi. “Levi.”

He pouted. “I know, I know, I’ll moan there isn’t a single place on Earth that is as beautiful as you.”

You lifted your head and kissed his cheek. “So, is there a place out of the ones I’ve chosen you want?”

He swiped through the selected ones and smiled at a nice old hall with a massive garden. “This.”

“It’s magical. Perfectly vintage.”

He kissed the side of your head a few times. “I can’t wait to see you in your dress.”

“I’ll think carefully about it.”

Levi reached over and massaged the inside of your thigh. “You’ll be incredible in everything.” He frowned when his phone went off. He pulled it out and eyed the message. “Mm, I have work.” He kissed your neck. “Be a good girl for me and do not leave this bed for anything unnecessary.”

You grinned at him. “You got it!”

He kissed you and hummed. “Thank you.”

You waved to him as he left. You waited for the door to close before climbing out of bed and dressing in something nice. You smiled when your phone went off indicating your ride had arrived. You moved to the door and grinned at Lucas and Shino. “Hello, gents. Have you gotten everything all sorted for me?”

Lucas eyed you. “Yes. Are you going to be okay moving around?”

You moved past them. “I have a broken leg, I’m not falling apart. I’m fine.”

Shino followed you. “Has Levi approved of this?”

“Nope. He doesn’t know I’m doing this.”

Lucas gulped. “Peach, this is a bad idea.”

You glanced back at him. “Levi said not to leave the bed for anything unnecessary. This is necessary.”

Shino hummed as he considered what was about to happen. “She’s right. This is necessary.”

“Thank you, Shino. You’re my number one today.”

Lucas gasped as Shino winked at him. “I’m hurt! I’m always your number one.”

You hummed a bit. “Are you?” You smirked at him before climbing into the car. “Let’s head out. This will be fun.”

Shino sat next to you as Lucas drove you to your destination. While you were driving Shino was texting away making sure everyone was in place. He released a long sigh. “Everything is in place. Target is in place as predicted.” Shino looked over at you. “If Levi finds out about this.”

“When.” You glanced over at him. “He will find out about this.”

“When Levi finds out about this, what are we going to do?”

You patted Shino’s thigh. “Leave him to me. I can handle him.”

Lucas laughed. “She’s right. You know, he might be pissed at first but I think he’ll be rather impressed by his bunny. You found something very interesting out.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Thank you.”

“Speaking of.” He stopped the car. “We’re here.”

Stacy smiled as her feet were tended to. She had her usual gathering of rich women around her all worshipping her. “There’s nothing better than having your feet massaged after such a perfect victory.” She looked up to the door to see Shino and Lucas enter. “Well, well, well, I see you two have finally chosen me over the previous trash.”

Lucas put his hands in his pockets and smirked. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Shino fixed his cuffs. “We’re here on business.”

Stacy’s brow raised. “Business?”

You moved into the room. “Yes. I have business here.”

Lucas pulled a chair for you. “Peach.”

You sat down and sighed. “Thank you. Those crutches do mess with my hands a bit.” You smiled at Stacy. “Stacy, right? We met at that casino event but we never formally met. You called me a whore if I remember and my fiancé told you the news your husband had no money.”

Stacy clenched her jaw and gulped hard. “I remember. Why are you here in my shop?”

You hummed a laugh. “Well, I have a few things I want to say. A few things I figured out.”

“Oh yeah?” She rolled her eyes. “Fascinating.”

You released a long sigh. “I’m sure you know what happened to me, right?” You knocked your knuckles against your cast. “Got grabbed and beaten.”

“Didn’t knock any sense into you.”

You laughed mockingly. “Funny!” You smiled. “But no. I’m still me, just have a broken leg. So, my fiancé stopped the men and almost killed one of them when he saved me. Hell, he caught Cassio and almost killed him too.”

Stacy tensed up. “And?”

“Well, I was thinking about it all seeing as I’m stuck in bed a lot and you know what’s weird?”

“Your dress sense?” She smirked as some of her friends giggled.

You smiled softly. “What’s weird is Cassio picking on me. He believed women should be put in their place, and that Levi was weak. He was rather annoyed about Levi having an outspoken woman, but not enough to do something about it.” You sighed. “I paid close attention to that conversation and it was odd. You see, Levi made a passing comment about dry meatloaf and Cassio was annoyed.”

Stacy laughed. “Right, so the meatloaf did it.”

You slapped your leg. “You’re so funny! But no.” You tilted your head. “What was weird to me is how he reacted. He was upset about how rude Levi was about his wife, but strangely enough, he didn’t bring his wife with him to the party.” You stared at her as she shifted a bit. “Isn’t that weird?”

Shino placed his hand on the back of your chair. “I think it’s strange. For a man that’s so dedicated to his wife, why wouldn’t he bring her?”

Lucas nodded to the backup entering. “Really makes you think. Why is he judging the boss when he hasn’t got his wife with him?”

You smirked. “You know gents, the nice thing about that event is people that come together wear something that indicates they’re together, that they’re a couple.”

Shino handed you a drink. “You and Levi matched perfectly.”

“We did.” You sipped your drink. “Mm, thank you.” You placed the cup down. “Anyway, you’re incredible with your fashion. Everyone praises you, Stacy.”

Stacy smiled. “Thank you. I’m always making a statement.”

You hummed. “Exactly, I mean everything you wear you wear for a reason, right?”

“Right!” She grinned at you. “You get it.”

You laughed. “I do. Your dress was stunning. You were a vision.”

“Thank you.”

“Truly breathtaking.”

She flicked her hair. “I know.”

You picked up your cup. “So explain to me why you and Cassio were matching.” You sipped your drink as the room became deathly quiet and Stacy looked white. You sighed and put your drink down. “Seems odd, right?”

Stacy started shaking. “I-I…well…”

“I mean, you have a taste for older men.” You smiled at her. “Anyway! Congratulations.”

“F-For?”

You referred to the shop. “This place! I mean, Levi said you had almost no money. You must have found some sort of money.” You looked at your feet and wiggled your toes in your cast. “Levi told me he took everything from Cassio, but things were missing.” You looked up at her. “Men like ours tend to spoil their women. Levi spoils me so much that I have to tell him off sometimes.”

“Mm.”

You looked over at Lucas. “Lucas, my darling?”

Lucas grinned. “Yes, peach?”

“You used to work with an old fart of a gangster before Levi, right? I think you or Levi killed the guy in the end.”

Lucas folded his arms and smiled fondly. “We worked together.”

You patted his arm. “Wonderful. Now, did he have a mistress?”

“He did.”

You locked eyes with Stacy. “How did he treat his mistress?”

“Like she was his everything. Bought her new things and pretty things.”

“Mm. Thank you.” You shifted in your seat. “Shino? You know expensive things. Tell me, was Stacy’s outfit expensive on the night and is what she wearing now more expensive?”

Shino adjusted his glasses. “Indeed, peach. The dress she wore and accessories on the night were out of her husband’s price range at the time. Her current outfit is too.”

You smiled. “Thought so. Do you have what I asked for?”

Shino checked his inside pocket and pulled out papers. “I do.”

You looked them over and hummed. “You know, I’m so blessed that Levi owns someone in almost every place possible. A lovely lady in the bank was so sweet to Shino and gave him records of bank accounts.” You eyed the papers. “Funny how before Cassio was taken, a chunk of his money went to you, like he was protecting it.” You handed Shino the papers. “What do you say, Shino? You and Erwin are the big brains of this.”

“Seems like this is the money that the boss, Mr Ackerman, reported as missing from Cassio.”

You faked shock. “Oh my, whatever could it mean? Stacy has Cassio’s money, she wore his colours, she has expensive jewellery that her husband can’t afford and she has a brand new shop.” You tapped your bottom lip. “I wonder what it all means. I could just ask you, Stacy, instead of guessing.”

Stacy laughed nervously. “I…you…you have nothing! It’s all guesswork.”

You giggled. “Maybe it is. I mean, I don’t think I offended Cassio enough to hurt me. I offended you and Cassio would do anything for you. I mean, he gave you a lot of his fortune. I might not be the smartest person in the world, but I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“I didn’t do a thing!” She shook more and looked panicked. “I’m innocent! You have no proof of my relationship with him.”

“You’re right, I have ideas but the thing is I told you Levi has a lot of people all over the place and I learned from that.” You smirked at her. “I started doing the same thing. I have a fun mole who was very happy to give you up. You see, your ego and nastiness against those around you have caused you to be alone, very alone.” You grabbed your drink. “Shino?”

Shino bowed. “I’ll take over for you. Now, our mole will be protected by the Ackerman family for life and their child as well. I’m here, on behalf of the Ackermans, to offer this protection to the rest of you. Side with us and help us and we’ll protect you. It’s that simple.”

Lucas chuckled as all the women abandoned Stacy, while they did they spat nasty words towards her, it was clear she had wronged them all. “Welcome, ladies. If you’ll just step outside with our friends, he’ll take the evidence.”

You tapped one of your crutches against the floor while the ladies left. “So, wanna confess that you were behind it all? You begged Cassio to hurt me because I humiliated you and insulted you.”

Stacy snarled. “I wish he did more than break your fucking leg! I told Cassio to make his men break you. I wanted you to be mentally broken, but they only broke your leg! The fucking, idiots!”

You weakly stood up. “They let you down.”

She rushed you. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

You swung your heavy crutch against the side of her face and sent her to the floor. Blood pooled on the floor as she screamed about her precious and expensive face. “Hmm, I’ve always wondered what would happen if a person with Botox got their face hit.” You turned. “Trash the place and get as much money as possible. She was supposed to be ruined financially so we’ll make it like that.”

Shino clicked his neck as adrenaline rushed through him, he was excited. “Yes, peach.”

You moved outside to see Levi’s car parked there. You slowly looked up and saw Levi leaning against the car with his arms folded. “Levi.”

He sighed. “I told you not to leave that bed.”

“You said I shouldn’t leave for anything unnecessary. This was necessary.”

His brow raised. “Explain, bunny.” He listened closely as you unloaded everything on him and why you were here. “Right.”

You pouted at him and gave your usual sweet wide-eyed look that Levi found so hard to resist. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.” He pulled you against him. “I’m not mad. I’m proud of you for working so hard and standing up for yourself. You’re so fucking smart and you figured all this out? It impresses me.” He showered your face with kisses. “It’s sexy.”

You giggled. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get you home, okay? I’m sure the gents can finish the job.”

“Mm, okay.”

He helped you into the car. “Be right back.” He pressed the end of your nose. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Be nice to Shino and Lucas, okay? They helped me out so much.”

Levi winked at you. “I’m not going to shout at them. I’m going to thank them for helping. I promise, okay?”

“Okay!” You waved and watched Levi go into the building and then after a while, he came out laughing a bit with Lucas and Shino. “Everything okay?”

Levi nodded. “Sorted.” He climbed into the car. “Let’s get you home, full of pain meds and stuffed with food.”

You hummed in happiness. “Awesome.”

[massivedrickhead]

“Somebody help!” from the angst/fluff prompt list pleeease!

So my first thought for this was to do something a little more angsty and heavy, but I feel like I've written that fic like a million times, and I wanted to do something a bit lighter.

Hope you enjoy!

“Somebody help!”

Prompt taken from here

Read on AO3

-

“Somebody help!”

Chloe wasn’t known for being a quiet, soft-spoken person, but Beca had never heard her sound this loud or this panicked before.

From her spot on the ground, Beca had even wondered if she’d crashed into someone on her fall down the auditorium stairs, and if that person was even more hurt than she was, because that would be the only way to explain the horror in Chloe’s voice. 

But no, Chloe was crouching over her. 

Chloe’s ear-splitting cry for help was because she was worried about her.

“Jesus,” Beca muttered, trying to push herself into a seated position. “I’m fine.”

Pain shot through her wrist as soon as she put weight on it, and stars momentarily popped behind her eyes.

Okay, so she wasn’t fine but she certainly wasn’t dying. 

“What happened?” Chloe asked, helping Beca sit up as the brunette held her surely broken wrist protectively against her chest. 

“I tripped,” Beca said, shaking her head slightly. She bit down on her bottom lip as the pain pulsed in her arm again. “I think I need to get this checked out.”

Chloe turned to the gathered group of Bellas, some of whom looked like they were trying not to laugh.

“Has anyone called an ambulance?” She asked, her voice taking on that slightly hysterical pitch again.

“I don’t need an ambulance, I’m not dying,” Beca said, rolling her eyes. “I just need someone to drive or call an Uber.”

“But-”

“Chloe, I’m not spending like a thousand dollars on a ride in a slightly faster van,” Beca said, wincing again as she struggled to her feet. She felt some pain in her back and knee, but the majority of it was focused on her wrist. And her pride. 

“Okay,” Chloe said. “I’ll drive you, come on.”

“Feel better, Beca!” Emily said as they made their way out of the auditorium.

“Yeah, have a nice trip!” Amy yelled.

“See you next fall!” Stacie added.

“Bite me!” Beca yelled back.

Getting into the passenger seat of Chloe’s car was harder than Beca had been expecting, and she ended up having to go in backwards, sitting on the seat first and then swinging her legs over. Chloe buckled her in, making sure the seatbelt didn’t make contact with Beca’s rapidly swelling wrist. 

“I can’t believe this has happened so close to the Worlds,” Beca said, with a huff. 

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Chloe said. 

“I suppose we might get some pity points if I’m in a cast,” Beca said. 

They drove in silence for close to 20 minutes, Beca using all of her focus on not throwing up from the pain in Chloe’s car.

“So how dumb did I look?” She asked, desperate for something to distract her.

“Huh?”

“Like my fall, how embarrassed should I be? Was it at least funny?”

“It wasn’t funny at all,” Chloe said, frowning. 

“Some of the Bellas were laughing,” Beca said. “It must have been a little funny.”

“It was terrifying,” Chloe said. “You… One minute we were doing laps and the next you were… bouncing down the stairs. And you hit the bottom with such force, and you didn’t move and I thought…” Chloe trailed off, trying to shake the image from her head. 

“Sorry that I freaked you out so much,” Beca said. “I was just trying to figure out if I was actually hurt or just embarrassed before I tried to move.”

“And you’re really okay?” Chloe asked. “I mean, apart from your wrist. You didn’t like black-out or anything?”

“No,” Beca said. “I was painfully awake for each humiliating second.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Chloe said, laughing.

“You’re one to talk,” Beca replied, grinning despite the pain. “You were the one screaming for someone to help.”

“I wasn’t screaming,” Chloe countered.

“You weren’t not-screaming.”

“Give me a break, I thought you’d knocked yourself out or something,” Chloe said, the frown returning to her face.

“It’s nice to know you care,” Beca said, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Of course I care,” Chloe replied. “You’re my best friend. Would you have laughed if I’d fallen down the stairs?”

“No,” Beca admitted. “I’d probably have freaked out too. Though maybe in a less high-pitched way.”

“Shut up,” Chloe said, laughing again.

The car fell silent again and Chloe glanced across the car to see Beca’s face was now screwed up in pain.

“We’re almost there,” Chloe said. 

“Mhm,” Beca replied, not trusting herself not to puke if she opened her mouth to speak. 

It was several hours later when the Bellas got a text to let them know that Beca and Chloe were finally on their way home.

“Beca, you’re home!” Emily said, a little louder than necessary, when they walked through the door. “We got Chinese food,” she added gesturing to the containers on the kitchen counter. “How are you?”

“High as a kite,” Chloe mumbled, her hand briefly coming to rest on Beca’s back before she helped her out of her jacket. 

Beca’s wrist was in a split and held up by a sling, but she didn’t appear to be in too much discomfort.

“She has to go back in a few days and have a cast fitted,” Chloe said, watching as Beca struggled to load up a plate with her right hand. “Here,” she said, taking it from her. “Go sit down, I’ll bring it.”

“They didn’t put her in a cast straight away?” Jessica asked from her spot at the sink where she was doing the dishes.

Chloe shook her head as she filled Beca’s plate with her favourites. Emily couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Chloe hadn’t even needed to ask Beca what she wanted. “They need the swelling to go down first. There was talk of surgery, or of them having to realign the bones before they could set the break.” Chloe shuddered at the thought. “But the break wasn’t as bad as they first thought.”

When Beca had walked into the living room, she saw Amy hurriedly slam the lid of her laptop shut.

“Hey cap!” She said, a little too cheerily. 

“How are you?” Stacie asked from beside her, her voice had the same falsely cheerful tone.

“Are you watching porn in the living room?” Beca asked, chuckling at herself as she sat down. “Gross, dude.”

“What? No!” Amy protested.

“You shut your laptop like someone who got caught looking at naked ladies.”

“Okay, number 1 let’s be real, I’d have been looking at naked guys if I was looking at anyone,” Amy said. “And number 2, I use my phone for porn, not my laptop, what is this 2009?”

“So what were you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Amy insisted.

“There are security cameras in the auditorium,” Stacie blurted out.

“Well thanks for that, Stace,” Amy said, exasperated. 

“I just don’t want there to be a rumour going around that we were watching porn together,” Stacie replied.

“Who’s watching porn?” Chloe asked, entering the living room with her and Beca’s plates. She sat down beside Beca and put her plate on her lap.

“See?” Stacie said.

“What’s this about cameras?” Chloe asked.

“The auditorium has security cameras,” Stacie repeated. “And I happen to know the security guy.”

“You guys didn’t?” Chloe said, sounding shocked.

“How could we not?!” Amy protested. “It was an amazing fall, Chloe!”

“Beca got hurt!”

“I’m confused,” Beca announced, happily popping an egg roll into her mouth. 

“We got the footage of your fall, Bec,” Stacie said. “Do you want to see it?”

“Of course she doesn’t-”

“Oh yeah,” Beca said, talking over Chloe’s protestations. “I love a good fall video.”

[autistic-writer-angel]

OCtober Day 16

Prompt: Lament

Words: 665

Canon to my other stories: Yes

Additional notes: Another scene I've had in my head for a while. Context? Don't know her.

@mooshie-blue I think I told you I was going to post this one.

TW: Slight self-harm and quite a bit of self-loathing.

Credit to @apromptingwewillgo for the prompts.

Lament

“Angel?” Captain Barnacles called. He could hear her on the other side of the bushes. It wasn’t like her to just run away, though. Something must have been wrong. “Angel?!”

He pushed the bushes aside and was shocked by what he saw: Angel had grabbed a long, thick tree branch and was hitting herself with it! She whacked her arms over and over again.

“Angel! What are you doing?! Don’t do that!” The polar bear took the branch off of her and tossed it as far as he could without fear of hurting any creatures. “You could hurt yourself!”

“That was the whole point!” the girl countered, beginning to cry.

The Captain was alarmed. Angel got upset very easily, but she rarely cried. He knelt down beside her. “Angel. Why are you crying?”

Angel let out a sob. “Because I keep screwing up!”

“Angel-”

“It’s my fault we’re stuck here! And I just keep making things worse! You could have gotten back to the Octopod ages ago if it weren’t for me, but we’ve been stuck here for three days! Your big day is completely ruined! And it’s all my fault! I’m sorry!”

“Everyone makes mistakes, Angel”, Barnacles pointed out gently.

“NOT AS MUCH AS I DO!” she exploded. “All I do is screw up! I just can’t do anything right! Here!” She slipped her Octo-watch off her wrist and threw it not at him, but towards him. “I don’t want this anymore! I’m never going to be good enough!”

Captain Barnacles knew that Angel struggled with self-esteem. He knew every Octonaut and Octo-Agent had their areas to work on and this was Angel’s main one. Still, it was hard to listen to the rant that followed. She bawled her eyes out, describing herself as completely useless and the worst thing ever. At first, he said nothing. He just allowed her to lament. Maybe all of this just needed to come out.

Eventually, when she was crying too hard to keep going, he decided to intervene.

“Angel. Take a deep breath.”

The thirteen-year-old drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she did it again and again.

She sniffled and wiped away a tear. “I’m sorry. You should have told me to shut up.”

“No”, he told her gently. “Angel, everyone feels the way you’re feeling sometimes. Everyone feels like they’re not good enough, but it’s not true. Any of it.”

“Yes it is!”

“You’re so hard on yourself. You have done so much more than you give yourself credit for… Do you remember when you and I first met?”

Despite herself, Angel had to smile a little. “I wish I didn’t.”

“You were so scared of me, but look at you now.” He smiled at her. “And you saved the life of a little penguin. You’ve helped me in the Caves of Sac Actun and helped save creatures in the Ring of Fire. You’re kind, you’re funny and you brighten up every day on the Octopod. And I'm very proud of you.”

Angel let out another sniffle. “Really?”

“Of course.” Seeing as she wasn’t convinced, he held out his arms. “Come here.”

The girl collapsed into his hug, resting her head on his chest as she sobbed. Captain Barnacles stroked her hair and talked to her gently.

When her sobs slowed, the Captain let her go. “Come on.” He stood up and pulled her up to her feet as well. “We’d better keep moving.”

Angel let out another sniff and shook her head. “Go on without me. You don’t need me getting in your way. You should just get back to the Octopod.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you”, the polar bear countered. “Oh! One more thing.” He picked up her Octo-watch. “You’re going to need this.”

Still not believing she deserved it, Angel put the Octo-watch back on her wrist. Then the Captain took her hand again.

“Junior Octo-Agent Angel. Let’s do this!”

[privfilth]

Yj and sb

Being best friends with a gay person never bothered Yeonjun. He never judged anyone, especially his Soobin. Even when Soobin moved in - Yeonjun never felt any sort of tension. Tonight they were at a gay bar, Soobin to find a rebound for his latest failed relationship, and Yeonjun for moral support. Soobin was painfully shy, and Yeonjun couldn’t give a fuck about approaching anyone.

Yeonjun had been questioning himself after spending more and more time around queer people. They were so inclusive, kind, and fun. He felt like he could be his true self around them. But here were certain things he still kept hidden.

He couldn’t talk about how it felt when he saw men holding hands or kissing. Even his friends, he felt like he should look away but he couldn’t help but just stare. He helped soobin find someone at the bar. Soobin’s choice was… interesting to Yeonjun. He didn’t seem like Soobin’s type.

He knew to keep an eye on Soobin and look out for their secret hand gesture they make when they need to be saved by the other and get the fuck out of there. Yeonjun didn’t mind, he always enjoyed chatting up the women at the bar, hoping to god they were bi and that he could take one of them home. He’d hate to be staying up all night waiting for Soobins guest to leave all by himself.

He got distracted when he saw the man soobin had approached move closer to Soobin to whisper in his ear. Soobin laughed and put his hand over the stranger’s. Things seemed to be going well until Soobin got up and excused himself. He headed straight for Yeonjun.

“Bathroom,” he said pushing past Yeonjun so their shoulders collided. “Sure..” going to the bathroom was a common occurrence between the two - they went everywhere together. Soobin, in a hurry, grabbed Yeonjun by his hand and dragged him into the disgusting bathroom behind him.

“Is it not going well?” Yeonjun was curious, Soobin was very inexperienced when it came to dating. His most recent relationship ended because Soobin genuinely could not satisfy his partner. He was crushed. All he wanted was to make his other half feel good- but the stage fright kept things in the bedroom very bland and brief.

“I need to get out of here-“ Soobins voice was desperate. “You’re telling me, not one bi chick- all lesbians” Yeonjun rolled his eyes thinking about how unlucky he was that night. “Make an excuse for me?” Soobin pleaded with praying hands and a pout. Yeonjun rolled his eyes again “You have absolutely no game. You know that?” He turned to leave when he felt soobins hand grab his wrist. He turned around to soobin blushing. “He wants me to go back to his place.” Yeonjun shoved him by his shoulder and chuckled “well duh, how else are you going to get over your bum ex. Try and convince him to come to ours, though. So I can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. Now if only I could find someone-“

“No. I don’t want to” Soobin was assertive and threw his hands over his face. “I just want to go home. Take me home ?” Yeonjun knew exactly what Soobin needed.

They found themselves hiding while they schemed. “Alright, just go up and say you have to leave. I’ll take care of the rest.” Soobin approached his new almost love interest and formed his mouth into a straight line. He bowed his head. “I’m afraid I have to get going. Have a good night!” Soobin stood there for a good 3 seconds waiting for him to respond. “Oh cmon…” he said with a grin that had Soobins skin crawling. “That hurts my feelings. You don’t want to hurt my feelings, do you?” He brought his face closer to soobins again.

Soobin closed his eyes tight and held his breath as if he could wish himself away from this situation. Where was Yeonjun?

“Babe !!!!” Soobin heard as he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. Yeonjun continued with over the top fake slurred speech. “I’m drunk. Take me home…” the older said with a pout. Soobin let out a fake, exaggerated gasp “sweetie ! I’m sorry I gotta go, thank you for the drink”

As they walked away the stranger spoke loud enough for the room to go almost silent “you have to be fucking kidding me! Is this your boyfriend?” Soobins first instinct was to say no, and Yeonjun knew this and knew he had to act fast. “Yes ! I sure am” the lie made Soobin smirk. Yeonjun took the opportunity to poke soobins dimple - something he hadn’t done for too long.

“You look straight as an arrow - I don’t believe you. He’s just a fucking tease” he could see right through their act and he wasn’t taking the rejection well. Yeonjun was offended. He didn’t “look” gay? What did that even mean. Without warning, Yeonjun put his arm around Soobin again. - this time he planted a kiss on his cheek. Yeonjun became very affectionate when he was intoxicated. But he couldn’t have been too drunk- this was just a part of the act. The stranger scoffed and the fake couple turned around and left hand in hand.

The train ride back to their apartment was noisey. It was pride month, and all the gays were going out every weekend to the hottest bars and clubs, drinking and hooking up. Yeonjun saw a couple standing across the way from them - holding each other tightly.

The couple were drunkenly making out. Hands exploring each others bodies. Yeonjun was no prude, but the way their bodies were moving together made him blush. One man had his hand on his partners chest- while the other reached around and was squeezing his ass. Yeonjun cleared his throat and stood up at the next stop.

When they made their way into their apartment, soobin began to complain about his ex. “I told him I was out looking for a good fuck tonight- I don’t even know what that would be like! He’s totally going to know I struck out. So much for making him jealous” Yeonjun threw his apartment key on the counter and walked to the fridge- taking out a bottle of soju. He immediately poured shots for the two of them and joined Soobin on the couch. “There’s no way he’s going to know you didn’t fuck anyone tonight. And it doesn’t matter. The not knowing is what drives them crazy” Yeonjun assured him.

They kept drinking and decided to play some video games. As they drank, their playing got sloppier and sloppier. Those two hours were spent laughing together, yelling at each other, and whoever won comforting the other. “It’s midnight” Soobin said plainly. Not because he was ready for bed, but because he just wanted to relax. And he knew just what he needed.

Soobin took the top off of the coffee table and reached in to grab a jar of flower and some rolling papers. Yeonjun watched with a smirk. No matter how drunk he was, Soobin was able to roll a joint perfectly. Yeonjun would often get more weed on the rolling tray than in the actual paper. He watched intently at the way his friends fingers pinched and rolled. When he stuck out his tongue to seal, Yeonjun felt his jaw clench. Giant hands holding the small joint, veiny and steady. And that tongue, darting out, pink and wet.

“Have you ever done anything to make someone jealous?” Soobin lit up and inhaled deeply. The smoke came pouring back out, he quickly inhaled it through his nose then let it all out with one big exhale. Yeonjun found it satisfying when he did that, he liked watching. He was always watching.

“Not intentionally, there was this girl in high school… she danced with another guy while I was in the bathroom at prom. So I fucked her best friend in my car at the after party” it was Yeonjuns turn to take a puff . On exhale he let out a dry cough. He was more of a drinker - Soobin being more of a smoker. He continued “when she saw me the next morning with a hickey- it was all over.”

“Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?” Soobin didn’t put it past his friend to do something so selfish back in the day. “I should’ve had that dude at least give me a hickey …” Yeonjun passed the joint back with his eyebrows furrowed “what, Mr. Fruity?? No chance. And we aren’t in high school.”

Soobin inhaled and exhaled “what if you gave me one?” Yeonjun let the room go silent and played with his hands. “I don’t know, man. That’s a little-“ Soobin looked at the floor “gay?… I know you’re not gay, which is why I asked. I figured it wouldn’t be weird..” he looked up at Yeonjun through hooded lids and handed him the joint “please?…”

Yeonjun let out a heavy sigh. How could he say no. Soobin was desperate to make his ex jealous - and Yeonjun couldn’t deny that he selfishly wanted to see what it would be like. Plus, he was drunk “Fuck it”

They were facing each other on the couch and the joint was burning itself out in the ash tray. Soobin reached out for Yeonjun and Yeonjun flinched. “Sorry….” He didn’t want to seem too excited, because this was just a favor between bros. But he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t eager.

“Okay- where do you want it?” Yeonjun ghosted his fingers over the side of Soobin’s neck and studied the area. Soobin leaned his head to the side, exposing every muscle vein and tendon in his thick neck. Yeonjun swallowed hard. The alcohol was starting to make faking confidence easier. Soobin grabbed Yeonjun’s hand and placed two of his fingers over a visible area of skin “right there, I think. “ “okay… are you sure this isn’t weird?” Yeonjun wanted one last confirmation that this was okay. “No, please just get to it” Soobin closed his eyes.

Yeonjun leaned in and parted his lips. He lightly placed his lips on Soobin’s sensitive skin, taking it in between his lips and sucking. Soobin took a quick breath and clenched his fists by his sides. Yeonjun released his flesh and looked at it “not quite” he said before going back in. This got a heavy sigh out of Soobin, and Yeonjun liked the sound of it.

Soobin began to squirm and could feel blood rushing to his cock. ‘No no not now!!’ He thought. Yeonjun detached his mouth from Soobin’s neck and sat back, admiring his own handy work. His eyes met Soobin’s when he noticed them darken. Soobin inched closer bringing one of his hands into Yeonjun’s hair and pulling him in.

“More.. please..”

Yeonjun leaned in and placed a kiss to the purple mark, and kissed up a little further. He inched his way up towards Soobin’s jaw. Soobin moved his arms around Yeonjun’s neck and pulled him down so he was laying on top.

They were making out now - for what felt like forever. A mess of teeth and tongues. Soobins hips bucked up Yeonjuns, making him hiss. Yeonjuns mind was racing. He was now experiencing what he was so curious about. A man’s touch, a man’s mouth, a man’s hips. He ground down into soobins crotch with his own hardened length.

They continued like this for minutes. It kind of felt juvenile. First a hickey and now dry humping on a couch ? It felt nostalgic to Yeonjun. But he needed more more and more. Soobin undid Yeonjun’s belt buckle and began to pull down his pants. Yeonjun let him without hesitation.

Soobin didn’t bother teasing, and dove straight into Yeonjun’s briefs, wrapping his hand around his hard cock. “Fuck..” Yeonjun let his head hang down. Soobin looked at him with his big brown eyes. All innocent and beautiful. This made Yeonjun want to take care of Soobin - even tho he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

He unbuckled Soobin’s pants and began stroking him, kissing his lips hastily. He pulled Soobin’s shirt up and kissed his chest. He took one of his nipples into his mouth and bit it, before soothing it with his tongue. Soobin sucked in air between his teeth.

Yeonjun had received head plenty of times before - he could give it, right ? Well, there’s a first time for everything. Soobin sat up when Yeonjun’s face became parallel to Soobin’s tented boxers. “You don’t have to…” Yeonjun silenced him by palming him through is underwear and pulling them down to set his cock free.

Yeonjun looked up at Soobin and planted a kiss to the head. He took the entire tip into his mouth and swirled his tongue around. Soobin’s hands found Yeonjun’s hair, pulling at it and scratching at his scalp. More was taken into his mouth when Yeonjun tasted Soobin’s sweet precum at the back of his tongue. He moaned in response - sending vibrations throughout Soobin’s body.

Yeonjun had taken the lead considering he was much more confident than Soobin when it came to sex, but him never being with a man before kind of made him the most inexperienced in the room. Soobin tapped him on his head “Yeonjun…” Yeonjun looked up and let his cock out of his mouth with a loud popping sound. His lips were swollen and formed a pout. “Let me fuck you, sweetheart..”

Yeonjun swallowed hard and couldn’t do anything but nod. Soobin sat up and lifted his shirt off his body- before removing Yeonjun’s. They stood up and each removed their pants and briefs. They stood there looking up and down at each others bodies. Yeonjun looked at soobins size and thought there was no way he could take it.

“Let me do this - I don’t think I can handle it” Soobin silenced him with a kiss. He kept their foreheads together. “Let me take care of you, Yeonjun..” one more kiss and Yeonjun melted. He never considered letting someone else take the lead, but he was a mess under Soobins touch. “Get on your back”

Soobin made his way down to Yeonjun’s length and licked it from bottom to top. It was Yeonjun’s turn to let his hands find soobins soft strands and lose his hands in them. Soobin took one of his fingers into his mouth and wet it, before pressing it to Yeonjun’s entrance. “Is this okay?” Yeonjun nodded “just go slow”

And slow he went- slowly and gently sinking his finger into Yeonjun’s tight hole. He thought about what it might feel like to be buried inside there to the hilt - and another rush of heat found its way to soobins cock. He eventually added a second finger, which sent Yeonjun reeling. He began to whimper as he became more and more submissive to soobins touch. Soobin sat up.

“Are you ready for me?” Soobin pumped his length in his hands. “I don’t know” Yeonjun choked out. Scared of the possible pain to come. Soobin got back down in between Yeonjun’s legs and stood his cock up straight. He dove his tongue into Yeonjuns sweet spot, using his tongue and lips and moisten it, and suck.

When he pulled back he saw Yeonjuns hole blooming and contracting, practically inviting him in. “God, im ready” Yeonjun said. Soobin came back up and feverishly kissed Yeonjun again. He lined his cock up to Yeonjuns entrance “let me know if you need me to stop.” He slowly inched himself in and Yeonjun sucked his entire length in. His body’s natural response to being needy, hungry.

Soobin bottomed out and began pumping slow. He leaned down and pressed open mouth kisses to Yeonjun’s neck, chest, shoulders. Yeonjun wrapped his arms around soobins neck and cried out when Soobin hit his prostate. Soobin reached down and grabbed Yeonjun’s length, pumping it.

The sound Soobin let out when Yeonjun tightened was pathetic. A small cry as he continued to try and push through. He couldn’t cum yet, not until Yeonjun was taken care of. “You feel so fucking good, baby” poured from soobins lips. He was reveling in the moment.

Yeonjun melted away at the pet name, feeling his body loosen up and become even more submissive to Soobin’s cock and hands. Soobin kept up a good pace, thrusting and pumping. “Cum for me” he demanded and Yeonjun did, hard. He let out a long whine followed by sharp pants, as his cum decorated his stomach beautifully.

Soobin didn’t let up, his thrusts become sloppier as he was reaching his end. Yeonjun began to feel a slight sting, and knew he needed to push his partner over the edge. Yeonjun dipped two of his fingers into the mess he made on himself and coated his fingers. He brought them up to his mouth and parted his lips. He dove his fingers into his mouth, making eye contact, and sucked on them until all the juices were down his throat.

Soobin was done for. Eyes squinted shut and teeth clenched together. He bottomed out one last time before pulling out. Yeonjun quickly reached down and began pumping his length for him. Soobin put his hands down to Yeonjun’s waist and kept them there as he met Yeonjun’s palm with thrusts and finally came undone.

Soobin lied down on top and let their juices get sticky and start to dry in between them. Soobin put his head into the crook of Yeonjun’s neck and hummed “that was amazing…” Yeonjun hummed back “you know what would make him really jealous ?” Soobin let out a chuckle and sat up. “Are you seriously thinking about that prick right now ?”

Yeonjun followed him up and met him face to face. He reached out and caressed soobins soft cheek with his shaking hand. “Be my boyfriend”

[the-void-writes]

55 for the spotty ask game!

Thank you so much for this one, I got so excited lol. I only discovered this song later this year, but I love it, and it gave me some great angst vibes 💖 And to celebrate, I made a new Jasio moodboard because I can’t seem to make enough 😂

The Freaks Of Preston - Nothing

Summary: Jason has found out everything that Rio’s been hiding from him, but instead of getting angry, he hides behind a mask of nonchalance and indifference, barely giving a word to his former partner. Rio’s had enough, so he tries to get some kind of emotion out of him.

TW: 18+ for suggestive content

WC: 1.2K

“Would you please just yell at me, or something?!”

Jason stopped in the middle of the room. It was the first sign he had given in months that he was listening to Rio as a person, and not an employee. Even the smallest bit of attention soothed the pathetic ache in his chest.

“Scream at me, hit me, hurt me— I’ll take it, just— give me anything! I can’t stand this nothingness!”

His own voice echoed off of the high laboratory ceiling, an audience of pitiful begging. Jason turned his head a mere inch, just enough for one pale, tired eye to strike Rio through his core. His calm fury sent a chill across the entire room, like an approaching storm.

“I’m not going to fight you,” he said, as dry and as casually as he would have said anything else. “There are more important things going on than whatever feelings I may have for you. So please, drop it, and stop punishing yourself for my sake.”

The hairs on Rio’s arms prickled as he clenched his fists. “So what— We’re just gonna ignore each other? Pretend it never happened?”

“That would be more efficient.”

“Christ, Jay— We can’t act like this for the rest of our lives.”

“Give yourself some credit. You’re good at acting.”

His voice was full of ice. Rio closed his eyes and released his fists with a long and pained sigh.

“I’m sorry, Jason. I’ll never be able to say it enough.”

Jason flicked his gaze towards the wall. “Then stop trying.”

Soft, uneven steps trailed towards the door. Rio followed after him without thinking.

“No, you can’t just walk away from me—”

A swift hand snatched his wrist and held it up. He shivered under Jason’s gaze, as cold and as piercing as hail. Still, having his fury was better than having nothing.

“You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be,” Jason said.

“It’s supposed to be difficult, Jay. You’re not gonna save time or resources by avoiding me.”

“Maybe not, but it’ll spare us from anything else you may be hiding for Gabe.”

Rio pulled himself out of Jason’s grasp, despite his longing for the mere touch between them. “I didn’t have a choice, Jason. You know what I had to lose—”

“Of course, I did,” Jason snapped, getting right up in Rio’s face. “You really think I’m so heartless, that I wouldn’t care about Jin’s fate? I would never want you to sacrifice her health. It’s despicable that Gabe even asked that of you!”

The air pressed down on their shoulders, a thick cloud that tasted of metal and aerosol. Rio clenched his fist at his side.

“Then what’s the fucking problem?! You don’t blame me, you don’t question me, so what? What is it?”

“I told you, I have nothing left to say.”

“Yes, you fucking do!” Rio grabbed him by the shoulders. “Just say it! Tell me I ruined your life! Tell me you hate me!”

“I don’t!” Jason screamed. “That’s what bothers me! I don’t hate you, at all!”

Small tears welled in his eyes, washing away the icy rage. Rio released him from his grip.

“What?”

Jason’s voice was softer, more like a mouse than a man. “I know that I should. I know that you kept secrets from me all my life, that everything we had was fake, but I just— I can’t do it. I don’t know if I just pity you, or I’m getting too soft… or I’ve lost my mind completely and I still love you.

“That’s why we need to move on, okay? Because I can’t do this… I’m not strong enough.”

He looked ready to crumble into a thousand pieces. Rio wanted to hold him, to keep him close to his heart forever, but it would never be fair to him. The worst part of all wasn’t the pity or the yelling— it was that deep down, Jason believed their six years together to be nothing but a show. He had no idea how Rio truly felt.

Slowly, carefully, Rio took Jason’s hand in his. It had always been so much softer than his own, so gentle and soothing. Rio spoke in a low rumble, a tone that only Jason had ever pulled out of him.

“Listen to me, please, because I need you to understand this. I know you want me to stop and move on, but the truth is that I physically can’t. Every thought I have is of you, Jay. Every single part of me longs for you, seeks you out. You’re a beacon of light, pulling me out of the sea.”

Jason shook his head. “Rio, don’t—”

“I know, Jay. I don’t want you to come back to me— It would be stupid to expect that, after everything I’ve done. I don’t need you to forgive me, either, I just need you to believe me— Believe me when I tell you that it was never an act. Loving you is as easy as breathing, and I’ll never be able to stop.”

More tears filled Jason’s eyes. He slipped out of Rio’s hold, as though gravity had taken its own hold on him. The seconds passed slowly, and Jason wouldn’t speak.

“Jay?”

A blur of red and black was all Rio could process, at first. Something wrapped around his neck— a pair of hands, but their grasp wasn’t violent, at all. They pulled Rio down into a rough, hungry kiss.

His arms naturally wrapped around Jason’s back, pulling him closer. The hands on Rio’s neck scratched up to his hair, tangling themselves into him. A bite on his lower lip brought a growl from deep within his chest.

Jason pushed him onto one of the lab counters, knocking aside a stack of textbooks as he wound his fists into Rio’s shirt. The lights framed his head perfectly, a fluorescent halo for Rio’s angel.

His kisses trailed down Jason’s neck, drawing out the most beautiful noises as he sucked and bit at the sensitive skin. They fit together like pieces of an old puzzle, still so right despite the wear and tear. Rio slid his hand down Jason’s chest, stopping at his belt, but his wrist was snatched again and pushed up over his head.

Rio thought his soul would rush out of his body. An embarrassing whine left his mouth as he laid there, completely at Jason’s mercy. He waited for more, but Jason had gone still. His long, frazzled hair fell on either side of his face, blocking out the rest of the world. It was just the two of them, just how Rio had wanted. They breathed as one as they stared at each other.

“Jason…” The name left Rio’s tongue like a prayer.

The blissful moment slipped through his fingers as Jason sat up, prying himself from Rio and the counter.

“Thank you for the heartfelt confession,” Jason said. “I believe you.”

“Jay, wait—”

“Goodbye, Rio.”

He turned and left without another word, but the brief echo of a sob pierced Rio through his still-pounding heart. The traces of their passion simmered into silence. A cold, empty, unbearable nothingness remained. Rio closed his eyes and listened to the fading footsteps of the first and last man he had ever fallen for.

[bellarkeselection]

This is because I Love You

Request from @sessa23 Klaus Mikealson x reader where the reader is in a relationship (or at least very very close friend) and to protect them from an enemy. Klaus compels the reader to leave mystic falls (or new Orleans) to go to another city where he has compelled and to forget about him and his family until he says otherwise.

@rosie-posie08 @colbysbrocks

Entering the witches attic I eyed Davina who I had become friends with very easily when I decided to move to New Orleans from Mystic Falls. She got to her feet talking my hands in hers. "Are you sure you want me to do this Y/n. I think it might be more painful than you think."

"I keep having this strange feeling like I should know someone. But I can’t picture whoever it was. I have to know who I think I am supposed to know, Davina. So do it.” I begged the witch sitting down on the bed waiting for her to start doing the spell. She raised her hand causing some pain to shoot through my head instantly.

Klaus and I stomped through the house both angry at each other. He halted in his tracks standing in front of the burning fireplace growling at me. “You shouldn’t have followed me out there tonight. My mother nearly killed you and she would have if I wasn’t as quick as I was.”

“I don’t want to be a damsel in distress or the girl who waits for the guy to get home, Nik. You can’t expect me to do nothing when I am falling in love with you all the while you’re mother wants to kill you. I’m choosing you and so accept that I will be lopped into all your crazy family drama regardless that I am human!” Throwing my hands away from my sides I begin to cry not ever intending on telling him I love him like this.

He vamped up to me grabbing my face in his hands sniffing through tears that was a rare thing to see from him. He would only show me his weak side otherwise to the world he was heartless. “Y/n, I can’t be forced to watch you almost die again. You are the one good and innocent thing in my life. That is so precious that I wish to tear anything a part that makes you upset. And whatever brightens your smile I want to make be possible forever. Which is why you can’t stay here, not until it’s safe…you will leave Mystic Falls and-“

“Are you seriously compelling me right now. You promised that you would never try and do that. Don't make me forget you after I just admitted I love you!" Hitting my hands against his chest he managed to snag my wrists keeping me in place.

He rested his forehead against mine sniffing through tears himself. "I know and I'm sorry. There are too many enemies of mine lurking around. I cannot afford nor will I lose you to one of them..." He held my chin in a firm but gentle grip compelling me again. "Forget me and do not remember my name until I tell you to do so."

Lowering my hands from my head I began sobbing but not from the pain that was caused anymore. Davina came over to me resting a hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright. I didn't want to hurt you too bad."

"No D I'm...I'm okay." I replied back.

Someone bursts into the church from downstairs where we both went down as quickly as possible. Standing in front of my witch friend I gasped seeing a familiar set of blue eyes and dirty blonde hair with his nostrils flared as he vamped up to us. "Get out of my way girl. I have business with the witch who is holding my brother hostage!"

"I know you....Klaus Mikaelson right?" Tilting my head it all came flowing back to me meaning that her spell had worked. "Nik."

He blinked his eyes stepping closer to me but I didn't lower my arms still protecting Davina. "Y/n, how did you break my compulsion?"

"That's your first words to me after all this time. Not I'm sorry or this is the reason I did it. God, your just concerned with as to why I found someone who might be more powerful then you. Maybe it was a good thing I didn't remember you for a while. Good bye, Niklaus. Come on Davina let's leave." I began to drag the girl up the stairs until she screamed and I was gently pushed into the wall.

Klaus had his hands on either side of my head trapping me between him and the wall hearing my heart skip a beat a few times. "I did it because I love you!"

"Wait really...then why do anything to me at all. If you care then why not tell me the night I told you instead of pushing me away?" I croaked out through some tears before meeting his gaze seeing him was crying too.

"Because I need people to run at the sound of my name. I need them to fear me, Y/n. I have a thousand enemies and there may come a day when they come after the things I hold dear to my heart. I didn't want to hurt you and I have an eternity to make up for what I did. If you'll take me back. Become my Queen and rule the Quarter with me. I promise to never hurt you like I did ever again. All of this is because I love you."

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I don't know what came over me jumping up and wrapping my legs around his waist. He wrapped his arms around my waist watching my next movements until our lips met in the middle. He deepened the kiss pressing my back against the wall. Lifting my fingers through his curls I tugged on a few hearing him moan. He removed my lips from his burying his face in the crook of my neck trailing kisses. "Ohhh Nik!"

"Uh so you two are together again I take it?" Davina asked causing us to break away from each other.

He lowered my feet back onto the ground for a split second. "Yes, Harvest girl. Bur I'll be back for Elijah in a few hours."

"Nik! What are we doing?" I squealed wrapping my arms around his neck with him picking me up bridal style vamping me back until we were in his house and my back hit the bed seeing him smirking above me already shirtless.

He moved his hands down ripping my shirt in half crashing his lips onto mine hungerly. "Making up for lost time. I will never force you away again. You are my everything."

"I don't want to lose anymore time either. So after this night I want you to turn me." I declared holding his face in my hands with him running his fingers through my hair.

Ditching the rest of our clothes in the process I gasped out a moan when he pressed his lips down onto mine again. "Anything you want you shall have. For you Y/n are my queen and the keeper of my heart." Wrapping my arms around his neck the kiss instantly became heated and it remained that way for all eternity.

Comments really appreciated ❤️