#like dear fuck all elements of this are made up! chill!

[scourgebrother]

also so tired of how some of yall just cant stop making up people n situations to be mad about. cant you just chill, this drama is not only unnecessary but worse unfunny

[concussed-to-pieces]

Wolves At The Door; Part Three

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: "No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer."

A/N: FIGHT SCENE FIGHT SCENE! I'd like to thank you all for reading thus far, you're The Best <3 I will be taking a small break after this, due to a vacation. I'll see you all on the 11th! Enjoy!

Tag List: @spoopyredacted @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @stargazerofgoldenwords @a-smol-witch @baby-lisuga @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @thirstworldproblemss @karlskitten @imthegreenfairy86 @nitrogennightmare @chunnies

Prelude

Part One

Part Two

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, gratuitous violence and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

"You will regret this." The Duke warned him, his smile vanishing at Heisenberg's demand.

"I don't care," Karl insisted, his fingers still twisted into the larger man's shirt collar. "I can't keep going on like this, not without knowing if I'm-" broken a danger bad person "--if I'm someone who would…do something I shouldn't."

The merchant, for whatever reason, insisted on continuing, "This will not endear you to them, my Lord."

"I don't know why the hell you think I'm doing this for them!" Heisenberg snapped angrily. "I'm tired of not fucking knowing what I'm–I just feel like I'm always waiting, anticipating something awful. I've had enough."

A large finger landed between his brows, the Duke bearing an uncharacteristically serious expression. "I am sorry for this, Lord Heisenberg."

Darkness overcame Karl then, as well as a chill like the sun had been suddenly switched off.

…

"Mr. Duke! It's good to see you. I wasn't sure if you were alright, it's been so long since you've come by!" You exclaimed, still wiping your hands dry with an old towel as you made your way to the fenceline. "You'll have to fill me in."

The Duke, for his part, looked unchanged. A bit more sweaty perhaps, but that could be chalked up to the rigors of just existing in such a unique body. You saw his eyes dart to your houseguest and you got the sudden impression that you may have interrupted something. The large man staunchly denied this when you asked though, his laugh just as jovial as always. Maybe you had misinterpreted the situation?

If looks could kill, however, it seemed the Duke would be quite done for. Karl was glaring holes through the merchant, striking green eyes narrowed to angry slits. That look alone could make anyone nervous!

"I noticed my talismans have gone missing, my dear. Has something happened?" The Duke's inquiry was smooth, almost bland. 

"They just started crumbling one day. I guess the elements finally got to them?" 

The Duke's expression shifted strangely and once again his eyes darted to Heisenberg. But all he said was, "how curious," then started rummaging in the drawers that framed his corpulent form. 

"I'm sorry, I don't have-"

"I told you," the Duke interrupted, his smile a bit sharper, "it's all part of our first-class customer service!" He gestured vaguely with one large hand, placing the small bundles of herbs and flowers down on his thigh. "If nothing else, take these as my thanks for nursing the Lord back to health. He certainly seems a changed man from when we last met." You heard Karl growl, muttering something under his breath that made the Duke chuckle coldly. "Now now, let's not say things we don't mean. I'm being sincere! I am glad you and the Lord Heisenberg are on such good terms. Why, he's almost tame."

…

There had been a great shattering, a terrible rending in his mind the likes of which he had never experienced before. The stress and mania that had driven him doggedly onward collapsed in upon itself after Ethan's final assault, as though the strain of both his transformation and the fight was too much for his body and mind to handle. Karl could just barely recall feeling himself fraying, his soul being torn apart at the seams like he was an ugly garment in the hands of the world's most negligent tailor.

Miranda would love that. Let that bitch pick out every stitch so she could make me into something useful, something controllable.

Maybe it was that bitterness that kept him breathing. Bitter spite and hatred, a parasitic leech just as much as the creature that throbbed uneasily in his gut. Cadou, finally a name for the feeling, the tension, the parasite that clung to his broken body and demanded him to rise, demanded him to fight and kill anew to keep it alive. Karl was exactly what he had feared and suspected all along: a freak.

While the Duke sat there complacent, chuckling, Heisenberg could only seethe internally. The obese merchant finally leaned forward, his smile distinctly oily. "I'd advise the two of you to turn in early for the evening. A storm is coming."

"Thanks for the tip." Heisenberg said through gritted teeth.

"Do you have anything new to show me?" The excitement in your voice threw Karl off a bit, as did the Duke's smirking reply of, "Naturally, my dear!"

Apparently it had been a busy few months for the merchant, because he immediately started pulling out (allegedly) new trinkets to show you. Each item he proudly displayed, however, set Heisenberg more and more on edge. Crystalline objects, fragile and frail, covered in sharp edges and scenting the air lightly with decay. Something about them had that wrongness, that Uncanny Valley sheen, as well as a hideous familiarity. 

Finally Karl said faintly, "I'm going to head back in." His head was swimming, mind struggling to sort through lifetimes of memories and it felt like his entire body was throbbing with his pulse. "You two have fun catching up."

"But my Lord-" the Duke protested, extending the protective talismans to Karl with a guileless expression. "-I had hoped you would hang these along the fenceline for me. I would do it myself, of course, but it's been so long since I've had a customer to show my wares." His eyes twinkled with the silent joke; he knew damn well that touching those things was bad news for Karl. Go on, big man, the Duke's smug gaze seemed to say, go on and reveal yourself.

Karl's glare reached a nuclear temperature, his mood rapidly swinging from discomfort to infuriation at being toyed with. This colossal fuck knew exactly what he was capable of! As usual, the Duke's audacity was exclusively outweighed by his mass.

But you were smiling, you looked so excited to see what else the Duke would show you.

Damn it all to hell.

Karl dug around in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out his gloves and gracelessly yanking them on before holding out a hand to take the charms. 

The Duke's smile never wavered once.

…

"It is odd, seeing the change in him." The Duke commented, turning a human torso that may have been carved from quartz this way and that to show you how the light caught it. "You certainly did more than your share of work, my dear."

"I don't understand." You replied, a little confused. "It hasn't been too hard. Only issue was keeping bread in the house."

"Can we claim his essence restored by mere gluten?" The Duke fixed you with a look that made you uncomfortable, his normally good-natured expression gone serious. "I doubt that, but I am open to breakthroughs in science."

"Do you mean I helped raise his spirits or something?" When the obese man shook his head, you shrugged. "I haven't really done much except put that gunk that you gave me onto his wounds and endured his company. If anything he's been helping me out! Got to get a few things done that I couldn't manage myself." 

"Very curious," the Duke mused, his attention seeming to have moved on to the odd combination of gears and crystals that he was currently showing you. It looked almost like a half-metal heart encased in white crystal and you marveled at the craftsmanship of it. "Lord Heisenberg has allowed himself to be domesticated. The Lady Dimitrescu would have a fit if she were still around."

His words didn't register until a moment later, making your brow furrow. Unfortunately the large merchant didn't appear to be in an expansive mood, whatever further queries you had being easily deflected or outright ignored.

…

Miranda. 

Karl tried to focus on something aside from the fact that his entire left hand was going numb. 

The constant fury he felt at that self-styled mother's attempted manipulation of him would do, so he began to reminisce. Though his mind was not entirely whole, Heisenberg could still remember his disdain for the haughty woman. She had always looked at him with such blatant calculation in her eyes; he had to commend her for the consistency of that gaze. Karl wondered sometimes if she practiced it in front of the mirror. How his ‘siblings’ had never seen her manipulation…

"Sore loser," his own voice echoed back to him through his memories and he scoffed, yanking the knot tight on the twine. Another charm secure. The little talismans were made of monkshood and nondescript twigs of some evergreen plant, all braided together with a few stalks of what seemed to be wheat and then fashioned into a tidy wreath. The numbness in his hand vanished once he released the charm, now replaced by an unpleasant burning. He could see spidery black tendrils making their way up his arm from beneath the glove, following the path of his veins to spread that burning sensation. Aside from that, though, Karl felt nothing. Was his fury truly slow to come, or did he just not care anymore? 

He slowed to a halt, resting his weight on the fence as he stared down at it. He almost wanted to will himself to be upset, get worked up, something for the sake of familiarity. This calm…acceptance, it didn't seem like him. The Duke had said Miranda was 'taken care of'. No doubt Ethan had fistfought the feathery bitch himself.

Dimitrescu, then, Karl decided, she could always piss me off, that colossal cunt. The anger was so faint it was barely annoyance. The weird little doll? Indifference. Moreau. Pity. 

Pity?! 

Was his throat closing up?! He was either flashing over or having some sort of allergic reaction to the talismans, he reasoned desperately. That was the only explanation for his strange response. Heisenberg pulled away from the fence, taking a few healthy steps backwards. He abruptly felt the hairs raise on the back of his neck and the Lord reached out to grab the maul, realizing at that moment that he had left it by the cart. Come on!

A body crashed into his back and Karl almost toppled, only just managing to brace himself on a fencepost. Sharp teeth grazed his arm, the combined scent of wet dog and iron nearly strong enough to make Heisenberg retch. Without a second thought Karl yanked the charm off the post and jammed his entire fist into the thing's mouth, hearing it start to choke and gag right next to his ear. 

The maul arrived, flying through the air like the weapon of some old Norse god. Karl seized it with his free hand, swinging it around to pulverize the…lycan, lycan, shit, he had forgotten. Its skull caved beneath the maul's blunted edge and Heisenberg quickly shoved the body to the side as it twitched its last.

There were more of them. A lot more of them, a pack of mangled humanoids spilling out from beneath the trees to yowl and bay at him. The body at his feet began to crystallize, the familiar scent of death wafting up to greet him like an old friend. Memories started to bleed in at the sides of his vision: dark, wispy vignettes of the man he was, the monster he really was.

I think bare minimum I've done some real bad things. 

He had been so desperate for reassurance without even knowing why, groping unlit through the halls of his memories as a stranger. It had been better for a while, what was shoved into the back of his mind to let him play fucking pretend at being human, at this new life with you.

Just like Miranda with her fake little family.

Heisenberg drew himself up to his full height, narrowing his eyes and roaring "shut your fucking holes!", immensely gratified when the cacophony immediately quieted. 

Unfortunately, the uneasy silence was then broken by a scream. A scream of his name. And the lycans, obviously sensing Karl's momentary distraction, peeled away to head for the source of the noise.

…

"Karl!" You cried, the terrible din you had heard seconds before still ringing in your ears.

"Oh dear," the Duke remarked blithely, "I may have been too late." He shrugged after a moment, passing you another charm. "Well, I hurried as best as I could." The massive merchant then clicked his tongue once and the seemingly too-small horse began to pull the cart down the road once more. "Good luck, my dear. Remember what I said about the weather!" He called with a wave.

"You've gotta' be kidding me!" You yelled after him incredulously, the talisman clutched tightly in your grasp. All you heard in reply was faint chuckling. You gritted your teeth, turning on your heel. "Karl!" You shouted again, starting across the yard. You could hear muffled yowling coming from behind the cabin, out past the back fenceline, so with your heart in your throat you carried onward. You hoped and prayed it was just a bobcat that Karl had spooked, you're overreacting, everything is fine. You did make a brief pit stop to pick up your kindling knife from the basket on the porch, staunchly refusing to think about what you could possibly need it for. 

Upon turning the corner of the house, however, you came face to face with some…thing, some awful thing with sharp teeth and a hunched humanoid body. You froze and so did it, before it bared its filthy, blackened maw and snarled at you. 

Oh, it's going to kill me. The thought was so certain it almost surprised you. Really, what else could happen? Fuck, it's going to kill me. You backed away, holding the knife in front of you in a desperate bid to keep the creature at bay. For some reason it actually seemed to be working, the weird wolf-man snapping its teeth at the air in evident frustration. Well, it was either that or the Duke's charm that you had slipped around your wrist, but you weren't about to start questioning your luck.

A projectile whipped past your head from behind you, the mass of it disturbing the air enough to emit a faint whistle. It was the maul, its dull blade slamming into the face of the lycan and bending it nearly in half before it collapsed like a deflating balloon. 

"You stay the hell away from them, you mangy rat!" Karl spat, his gaze full of fury as he rounded the house coming from the other direction. It may not have been aimed at you, but his rage was still absolutely terrifying to witness. Your knees began to tremble, threatening to dump you onto the ground. Heisenberg suddenly seemed larger than life and extremely dangerous, voice booming and eyes ablaze with a malice you had never seen. The man tore the maul free with a sickening crunch, shaking some of the gore off. "You alright?"

You realized he was addressing you, still coming closer at that too-fast pace and you floundered to nod, opening your mouth to say something, yes I'm fine and don't come near me you're scaring me and what's going on. No words came out, though. When had he gotten so big? It was as though someone else had taken over his body, someone self-assured, someone…

Was this how he had been before?

Karl stopped dead two feet away, the man huffing out an irritated breath. "Oh, you've got one of those charms." He slung the maul over one shoulder, holding out a gloved hand. "Here, give it so I can close the loop on this fence." There were holes torn in the glove, ragged punctures. Bite marks.

"No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer." What did the Duke do to him? 

Karl's brow furrowed, but he soldered on, reasoning, "There's more of the freaks out there, sugar. We don't have the whole fence covered, I need that last charm." 

"Please, don't…look, I don't want to hurt you and you're scaring me right now." You got the feeling the blade you had was about as threatening as a butter knife to the large man, but you held firm. 

Cornered dogs bite. He had called you sugar, his voice low and urgent. Surely it was still him in there if he was using the silly pet name he had decided upon for you. This was all so confusing.

"The lycans don't give a shit about whether you're scared, sugar! They aren't gonna' wait around for us to sort things out, they're coming!" Heisenberg snapped roughly, glancing back over his shoulder. "Fuck's sake! I'm not at full bore and if something gets you because I'm out of it, I'd-" He hesitated, then huffed through gritted teeth instead of finishing the sentence. "Alright, fine, I'm not coming any closer, we'll just do it together then. Stay by me. Devil you know, right?" He instructed, that fierce gaze softening a bit. "Nothing will get you while I'm here."

What if you're the thing I'm worried about? you wondered privately. 

…

You were looking at him like he was a monster. You were looking at him like he was a horrible, terrible monster, that trashy Bowie knife you used to shave kindling chips clutched in your trembling hands, leveled at his gut. You're scaring me right now.

And Karl couldn't even deny it because holy shit he was, he had been, he might still be. Oh God, no wonder the Duke told him it was an awful idea. He wanted to throw up, but that may have been due to the closeness of the talisman. Anti-mold measures or just another silver bullet in the magazine?

At least now he knew, as crushing as that particular burden of knowledge was. At least he knew. It was oddly freeing to be that self-fulfilling prophecy for once. 

You ended up hovering nervously at his elbow, the proximity of the charm a constant, nagging throb at the apex of his spine. But he could keep track of you that way. 

"The lycans are wary." Karl informed you, not really sure why he did so. "They know who I am but they're not particularly good listeners." 

"Something you have in common." You retorted.

Karl shrugged, feeling his glove slide down his mangled fingers before he tugged it back into place. "I'd like to think I've improved." He glared at the forms he could see surging along the edges of the treeline, brandishing the maul in silent threat. Come on, you rabid little shits.

Not a single one left the safety of the woods, however they did keep up their noise. Howling and shrieking, the pack followed the two of you closely. They're waiting for us to place the last charm, Heisenberg realized, his brow furrowing. They'll strike then before we can get back inside the fenceline. 

"I need you to be ready to run once you tack down that last talisman." He muttered out the side of his mouth, relieved when you nodded. "Don't worry about me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

His laugh was coarse and joyless. He had been a naive idiot to think he even had a chance at any sort of quiet life, but he was more irritated with himself over being so affected by the disappointment. Now was not the time to wish to turn back the clock.

You broke away from him by running ahead, your attention clearly fixed on the section of fencing that lacked an oh-so-familiar charm. Karl watched you slide the talisman off your wrist, and at the same time he could see the pack of lycans appear to muster themselves for a full-scale assault. 

Heisenberg's eyes narrowed and the man bolted forward, sending the maul ahead of him as he went. "It needs to go on the outside of the fence! I'll cover you!" 

…

You yanked open the gate with single-minded intent, only to see the maul go sailing into the teeming swarm of bodies in front of you, Karl close behind announcing that he would 'cover you'. As you turned to watch him go, a massive lycan broke away from the edge of the pack and headed straight for you, fingers clawing at the dirt for traction.

You fumbled to attach the charm, hanging it on the rusted nail still in the fence post and then smashing the top of the nail with the butt of your knife to fold it over onto itself. Mission accomplished, you rushed to get back inside the safety of the fenceline, but it was too late. A paw-like hand caught your ankle, tripping you up and causing you to strike your head hard on the gate.

The world swam in front of your eyes, a combination of reflex tears and being dragged along the ground by your leg at a dizzying pace. You began to struggle, kicking desperately at the face of the creature in an effort to free yourself from its clutches. The lycan dropped your leg, choosing instead to bat aside the kicks you aimed at it and lunge for your face with a garbled howl.

You didn't even have the time to think and so you slammed your eyes shut, bracing the knife you still held against your body in an effort to at least wound the lycan. 

But it didn't come. The weight of the beast on your chest just…vanished, its roar choking off abruptly.

When you dared to open your eyes again, you were greeted by the sight of Karl holding up the lycan by its throat, the man clearly crushing its windpipe. Judging by the way it was thrashing, it didn't have much longer. Heisenberg didn't say a single word, the man simply grunting with effort as he gave the beast a final shake to cleanly snap its neck. He then threw the body down, broadening his stance and squaring his shoulders with a furious grin on his face.

"Fuck off!" He roared at the remaining pack, now significantly thinned and yelping. "You stay the hell away from here, or I'll wipe out every last one of you!" The maul flew through the air and he caught it, swinging it one-handed. It was dripping with some kind of black fluid. "You won't cross that fenceline!"

After a few moments of what seemed to be a snarling back-and-forth with Heisenberg and one another, the surviving creatures sulkily limped back into the woods in defeat. They left nothing behind but crystallized remains of their kin and, as rain slowly started to fall, even those began to dissolve into the soil. 

Karl closed the gate, the man slowly latching it with the worn wire twisted around the post.

You were still on the ground, the knife pressed to your chest as you shivered and tried to catch your breath. You couldn't recall another day in your life that you had been so certain about your own death. Somehow all you'd ended up with was a few scrapes on your shin and a tender spot on your head from the gate.

Heisenberg swayed, propping himself up on the fence with one elbow. The maul dropped from his grasp as he panted for air, the man's scarred complexion gone so pale it was nearly green. He tried to say something, but ended up dry heaving instead. After taking a few staggering steps back from the fence, he unceremoniously collapsed onto his side.

You only hesitated momentarily before you scrambled forward, your caution thrown to the wind. It was as if watching him fight had somehow removed whatever threat you had felt before, the notion wholly gone from your mind. It was oxymoronic, but firmly embedded that the two of you were on the same side. He saved you.

The man gazed dully upwards at you or someplace past your shoulder, his breathing coming in sharp, hitchy bursts. "Hurt-" he managed to wheeze, shaking the glove off of his hand to display blackened flesh radiating from a tearing bite wound on the palm. He then gave a thumbs up with the mangled appendage, choking out, "--be okay." 

You noticed blood darkening a section of his trousers by his hip and you jerked his tattered coat back, revealing several more wounds. At least two of the lycans had ripped into the back of his thigh, like they were trying to hamstring him. The purpling, bruised bites ran down his leg and there was even a large chunk missing from the top of his boot. You hissed in dismay at the whole scene, feeling nauseous and terrified.

"We need to get you out of the rain," you said finally, your stomach in knots. Karl waved you off while pffting out a breath but you essentially ignored him, pulling his good hand to haul his arm up over your shoulders. "C'mon, use whatever's left of your legs." 

The man coughed out a laugh at that, then obliged you to the best of his ability. It was a struggle, but the two of you managed to get him upright. All there was left was the slow trek back to the cabin, and Jesus was it slow. Karl could barely put one foot in front of the other, the man dragging his wounded leg and the maul behind him as he leaned on you, nevermind your own legs still shaking from adrenaline.

"Why did you do that?" You asked finally, blinking the rain out of your eyes. 

"Whuh."

"You know what." The only reply you got was silence, followed by a clumsy little pat on the cheek. You supposed you would have to ask later.

…

The fresh talismans gave Karl the sensation of being in the eye of a storm. A maelstrom of energy swirled around the fenceline in a disorienting spiral, but it couldn't touch him in here. The drunken stumbling was more due to the injuries he had sustained, his steps unsteady and head hanging. This weakness was incredible, it was so similar to how he had been right after he had lost to Ethan. Laying there in the dirt with the rain pouring down on him, uncertain of what had just happened, where he was, every shattered breath in his body seeming like it could be his last.

"Come, my Lord. You seem to have fallen ill." 

You had said that the Duke was the one who brought him to you for aid. He barely remembered bits and pieces of the ride, only roused to consciousness from pain when he was jostled. 

His forehead knocked into yours and he slurred out an apology, realizing you needed him to walk up the porch steps. And walk up them he did, his leg already feeling a little less terrible. Parasite perks, the alliteration tickling him far more than it ought to have. He actually managed to hobble through the doorway unassisted, performing an odd skipping hop to do so and dropping the maul beside the doorframe. 

Once inside you collapsed on the couch, your whole body trembling. "Thought I was gonna' die." You finally said. Heisenberg continued to hover awkwardly on one leg, shoring himself up by placing a hand onto one of the ceiling crossbeams as you seemed to gather your thoughts. "I mean I thought that was it, game over. Holy shit, that was terrifying." You looked up at him, radiating incredulity as you asked, "how the hell did you just handle them?"

Karl shrugged, a bad habit he felt he could attribute to you. "It's all I've known for most of my life." It was a garbage explanation for all its truth and he knew that, but you weren't exactly in a fantastic headspace at the moment. Neither was he for that matter, he was still weak and a little queasy. Better to let sleeping dogs lie, let you calm down and regain some peace of mind. Lycans were normal to him, sure, but you'd only seen them in half light and hadn't even seemed to believe they actually existed until today. 

You put your face in your hands, exhaling deeply. You then moved to rise but Karl halted you with a hand on your shoulder, and he was silently dismayed at the fact that he could still feel you shaking.

"Stay put." He tried to gentle his tone, make it a little less gruff. "That was a lot. Just rest. You want some water?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah." You caught his hand before he could turn away, seeming confused. "How are you even walking? Your leg was-" "Something in me is real invested in keeping my body in one piece." Karl patted your hand, attempting to smile and failing miserably. "Lemme' get you that drink."

Part Four

[hunybee03]

Sugar-cakes and Marshmallows

Warnings: Strong language.

It was another day, a beautiful day even! Machines were working amazingly everything well oiled moving like it should. With these new puppies, I should be able to make even more of a steady supply for Kaidou

"Love to hear that purr babes!" giggling I set to put my tools up humming a happy tune from the latest song Ulti glued into my brain when an explosion happened a few feet where I had just been.

Sickly green smoke billowed in clinging to my babies and rusting them beyond repair. With a screech, I ran the hell out of dodge to find Queen in the square and the prisoners running for dear life, well the ones that could anyway.

"What the fuck were you thinking of you stupid overgrown marshmallow!!" throwing my wrench like I was auditioning for the major league baseball team it hit him dead center of his brows

"Have any idea what you just did you stupid! idiot of a-!!" I was so angry I couldn't even form coherent curses at this ball of fluff.

"Ah-Oh the mad woman's pissed off!! Run for your lives!!" his minions ran for cover laughing their fucking head off like this was the best damn thing to happen today.

"What? I had a little pest problem, so I took care of it, don't gotta jump me for it, sugarcakes. " he simply shrugged, holding up his new and improved vile launcher. I mean mugged the hell out of him, another wrench poised to be thrown at his head.

"Please don't tell me you are that stupid! Did you even stop to think of where you were aiming! I almost died, you prick, and look at what you did to my babies!!" pointing behind me, my hand shaking with rage, the way he just nonchalantly looked past at the gaping hole in the side of the building, UUGH! I could kill him!

"You my dear are the stupid one" his pushed at my forehead with a finger "I am a fucking genius annnd also the one who told you to fortify your 'babies' better for incidents such as this" oh this condescending fucking prick I swear to everything I know!!!

"Just wait till Kaidou finds out about this~ he wont be too happy, ya'know," he said in a sing song voice knowing he was just irritating me further made him laugh even more.

If I could Id cut that laugh out of his throat not just for what he said but what it fucking does to me, but not this time, this time I'm beyond pissed.

"Seems to me you did this on fucking purpose Queen because I did fucking fortify them you just failed to tell me what new fucked up shit you cooked up in that lab of yours!!! How would you feel if i just walked in and blew up your precious lab? Hmm?"

"You wouldn't dare!!!" His voice broke in his high pitch off-key tone.

"HA! Wanna bet?!?"

Tools and green viles were thrown aiming for each other, a few people caught in the crosshair either got knocked out by a hammer or covered in whatever green slime were in those viles.

"I can't believe you Queen!!!" Rubbing my eyes with the arm of my sleeve, I hated crying, and most of all, crying in front of him, I worked really hard on that distillery! It had been my best work yet..

"Shit! Gwen I'm sorry" did this giant hill of mount marshmallow just fucking apologize? To me? Laughter and teasing wolf whistles sang around us from the beast pirates. Looking at Queen, he looked flushed, hiding his eyes with a hand offering me a jacket.

Feeling a chilling breeze where there shouldn't be I looked down to see that most majority of my clothes had rotted away, the only thing left was enough to cover my nipples and between my legs my ass left out to the blistering elements.

"W-W-WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!" I screamed snatching up the coat from him and ran.

Never have I felt this fucking humiliated before in my life! oh but of course it had to be Queen that caused this. He's fucking dead when I see him next I swear to the sky above and the deep deep abyss of the ocean below!

Days even weeks passed where I didn't even so much as look in his direction, cleaning up the wreckage to slowly rebuild everything from the ground up. I had erected a sign post to 'Fuck off' in big bold letters to anyone who could read.

I was on a deadline, and if I didn't get this done in time, it would be my head on the chopping block, so sleepless nights were my middle name till it was done.

Luckily since that day nothing had blown the walls to smithereens despite the occasional explosions I could here on the other side.

As much as I was mad at him I couldn't stay mad, what he made was kinda cool just wished it wasn't aimed at my machines, specially one specifically for Kaidou, I only had just enough reserves for him to drink through and even that might not stave off enough of his drinking habit before I could make more.

"Gwen you home?"

"What do you want Queen?" stuck under some pipping he kicked my boot with his

"Come on out you gotta eat sometime"

"Not Hungry"

"Stop being so dramatic sugarcakes and come eat while its still hot" he kicked my boot again "Its Shiruko, I know you want some~"

Of course my stomach would betray me

"Stop calling me sugarcakes you lame fucking marshmallow"

"Stop calling me marshmallow and maybe I might" giggling, he passed me the bowl, that sweet chewy texture a god send

"Never going to happen when you look so much like one." quirking an eyebrow

"I choose this because if not, I would be plagued by all the ladies flocking the stage to get a piece of this. You, on the other hand, don't even have to try, babes."

"Yeah, right." I couldn't even resist the eye roll even if I tried

"Would you two just fuck already and save us the ear bleed" we both went up in smoke at Kings intrusion, wings tucking in tight to fit past

"Kaidou wants to know when you will be finished" another eye roll is earned out of me along with a long groan of thought that had Queen choking on his shiruko

"All things considered and no incident occurs it should be up and running at least by the end of next week if I never sleep" he watched me for some time before nodding turning to leave the way he came noting the tarp that covered the enormous hole that still had yet to be fixed

"See to it that it is done"

"Yes, you most winged excellency," I murmured with a dramatic bow when he left

"I heard that" he yelled back down the hall

"Fuck" swiping up my bowl again I finished the rest quickly so I could get back to work

"Don't you have some new evil rotting toy to make? you know, far far away in your lab" his laugh reverberated the metal around me and I couldn't help but laugh as well

"I do have something cooking, but I'll leave once you promise to finally come back to bed tonight"

Resting my head on the cool concrete, rolling it back and forth, mulling over the thought. It did sound rather tempting.

"Only if you promise you won't destroy my distillery again, and you got a deal"

"I promise I wont actively seek to destroy your precious babies"

I let the silence drag on for a bit biting back a laugh hearing him shift his weight a few times waiting for my answer.

"Come on sweetcakes, I miss you, and the bed is so cold and lonely," he practically whined and could see him crouched down, tugging the tip of my boot.

"You are really laying it on me thick," I laughed, pushing my foot back at him "Alright Alright I'll come to bed tonight"

Excited, he pulled me out from under my machine to give me a mouth-watering kiss

"Its a date" he winked, finally leaving me to my work.

[sonarryx]

billie eilish – hit me hard and soft (review)

as i mentioned in my chappell roan review, i'm a pop music bitch now. here's the proof.

i bought this album on a whim because my best friend was also buying it. i'd been meaning to give billie eilish a fair shot since i unfairly rejected her in high school for the crime of being really popular, and yeah, it took me until she made a song about having sex with girls to get into her. i won't deny that that's a big part of my motivation. but i'm here now and i gotta say, i picked a fantastic album to start with. this shit rules. i'm giving it the full detailed treatment it deserves.

"skinny" is a perfect opener, effortlessly dissecting several heavy topics at once. the lyric "people say i look happy, just because i got skinny" is a one-hit kill.

"lunch" was the only song i knew from the album going in. it's got a great beat, a seamless journey through a very simple premise, i love it. but it was quickly overshadowed by what's become one of my favorite songs of all time, a perfect storm of the right time and the right listening environment. i have no idea if anyone out there has the level of affection for "chihiro" as i do, but dear god i love this fucking song.

i didn't really crack the code on why it clicked so well with me until the third or fourth listen, which took place in the middle of the day. until that point, i'd been playing the album exclusively after dark, while working closing shifts at my pizza delivery job. those two high points in the song (calling them choruses feels inadequate, the structure of this song doesn't fit into traditional verse-chorus structure at all) hit me like a truck every time, but suddenly in the daylight, it wasn't quite so monumental. coasting through dark streets with little to no traffic to disrupt the flow of the song is an essential element to my enjoyment of the song. darkness helps, driving helps, but both at once add up to an experience you just can't get otherwise.

the way "chihiro" starts out soft and builds up to those high points, the way it transitions between at least five distinct parts, in an unexpected, unconventional but clearly deliberate order—it's all set up so perfectly it makes me want to scream. the section of the song that genius lyrics calls "verse 3" right after the line it calls an interlude, where these fuzzy, airy hi-hats come in, it's like this moment of realization, aligning perfectly with the lyrics "there's a part of me that recognizes you, do you feel it too?" it's like the whole song snaps into focus. then, everything else fades away for the return of that instrumental again (to call it a drop feels like an insult, though it's the closest comparison), this time with the vocals far in the background, nothing else to focus on but this swell of perfect intensity.

listen ok. i love this song. i put it on every night i'm working after dusk. i never want it to end. but there's 9 other songs on this album too, and a lot of them are really good too. all of them, actually. i love every single track on this entire album.

"birds of a feather" is an artfully constructed little tune, clearly intended for the radio play it's rightfully getting. "wildflower" is somber and ominous, with an echoey, lingering ending. "the greatest" is an even more dramatic increase from soft to hard (the title of this album is very literal) than chihiro, more extreme in both directions. the end of this song is the peak in energy of the entire album, and it spends the entire song getting there, stringing you along for over three minutes before the incredible, blissful payoff. it never fails to give me chills.

"l'amour de ma vie" has an elegant melody, and the switch to the second part of the song is unexpected and wonderful. "the diner" is probably my second favorite track on the album. every element is creepy as hell, which is exactly the point. the beat has the slick self-assured obsession of the stalker perspective that billie sings from, and the return of the bass at the end of both choruses is just perfect. "bittersuite" is another song that plays fast and loose with song structure to great effect. it's the perfect penultimate track with a seamless transition between it and the final track, "blue," yet another song that is actually multiple songs in a trenchcoat. there's these pitched-down vocals in the second part that i can't get out of my head.

final thoughts: hit me hard and soft is a fucking masterpiece. nothing feels out of place. the sound is very mature (especially in comparison to her breakout album—holy shit this is such a step up), and many of the tracks feature some impressive experimentation with song structure. it's all so subtle and effortless, and fits together perfectly. there's a clear love for and dedication to the craft exhibited in every element of the production. i love this album more every time i listen to it.

[crazy56u]

A protracted rant about how Film Reroll's Fifth Element campaign caused me to fear the future before it even went live.

Knowing for a couple weeks via the Patreon that the next campaign was going to be The Fifth Element, I didn't know what to expect, due to not watching the movie.

Having actually watching it last week, that caused me to become convinced that this was going to be a one-episode campaign. That isn't to say I was making an insult. That was me basically going "Oh dear God, they are fucked."

A lot of the fucking plot of the movie was stitched together by the whims of chance (for example, not only does a plot-important character only survives jumping out of a building due to a taxi cab managing to pass by then and there, but the main villain only barely misses crossing paths with Bruce Willis during the climax), and that being translated into a TTRPG does not bode well for a podcast notorious for bad rolls at bad times; they even fucking acknowledge this during the intro to the first episode.

Hell, I was of two major avenues of thought as I waited for the first episode to finally get published: Ether they never leave 1914, or they somehow find a way to get Bruce Willis killed off during the first (or only) episode. I admit, part of the latter was built upon me trying to guess who would play Bruce Willis, then abruptly remembering both the talked-about-but-unpublished Die Hard campaign (where John McClaine died), and TMNT II (where Kara and Paulo basically recreated that campaign via Raphael fighting the terrorists at the bank, only to get shot to shit, and then get killed in Part 5) and just automatically going "If Kara is cast as Bruce Willis, that is an immediate sign, oh no..."

This goes a long way for me to say the following:

When Billy tried to slide tackle the aliens carrying away the five elements during the prologue, and Joz Crit Failed the roll, the moment Paulo announced that caused a domino chain of falling aliens, and that Joz might have fucked up the future, even though it turned out they barely lucked out in avoiding it, I felt a cold chill pass over my body, and fully expected that to be the sum of all of my fears coming true then and there, that they were about to swiftly pivot into 1914's answer to Independence Day.

Granted, things were smooth sailing after that fuck-up (even better than the movie; Leeloo didn't escape, and the military was made aware of the situation from the jump), but still, just like everyone else did during that scene, my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach.

We are one episode in.

This campaign is going to be rough for a guy like me...

[submergingartist666]

if you say something stupid, people should let you know

oh man you ever read a review and think to yourself “haha oh shit that was fucked up that’s a fucked up thing to say”

or even just “shit dude i don’t think you picked up at all what the artist was trying to put down and while your god awful experience is, like, so valid it doesn’t seem like you even tried to understand what happened or why …

and i don’t think it’s constructive to call an actor’s performance annoying … also ur writing just kinda sucks”

but the thing is you can’t stop them, you know? and there’s nothing i can say about how to be a better critic that hasn’t already been said, so i think if you say something stupid, people should let you know.

anyone. fellow critics, artists, you, dear reader.

i mean sure, critics have a responsibility to respect the artists we’re talking about while staying honest but we also have a responsibility to the way they’re being talked about by each other, right? think about it– the relationships critics have with artists– should they not extend past the interactions we have with them? should we not publicly address and comment on what our peers have publicly said about a public piece of art in our own reviews?

this is not about disagreement or taste because i hate most of what i see but clarity I think maybe also (for lack of better words) community? which is such a bleh word to use these days but i kinda like the idea of reviews becoming referential of a review interacting with ideas in other reviews of the same something different people experienced.

instead, we hide behind third person and we hide behind formality and authority and we think artistic dialogue only starts when we initiate it so we HAVE to have the answers, right? otherwise why the fuck would anyone want to hear from us? bc we’re smart cool sexy funny and kind? NO. bc we know what the FUCK we’re talking about (i have a BAH, mf)!

but sometimes we don’t know what the fuck we’re talking about, which is chill because you can’t always know what the fuck you’re talking about, and we should be ok with people letting us know especially if they can tell us why.

it would be, like, so hot If i saw a review that was like, “yo i saw this show and i loved the way they did this thing and this is what it made me think of, but that wasn’t this person’s experience [hyperlinked post], no they had the complete opposite time and hated it, but i see how that influenced their interpretation of the rest of the show. however, they didn’t pick up on some crucial elements (for whatever reason) that would’ve provided the necessary context for them to continue engaging meaningfully which may speak to a lapse in communication (which is a valid critique) and not an absolute failure of the artist as they’re saying.” or–

–idk i just think it’ll get really boring if we only ever do our critic thing individually bc we’re all kind of screaming into the void hoping our opinions get more attention than the next and right now, that overwhelming sense of competition and legitimacy is turning people off from collaborative, critical engagement.

could be kind of fun if we collectively decided to extend post-show lobby chats and talkbacks and conversations over drinks to somewhere like twitter or reddit a place where people can casually share their interpretations and cultural references like we do with television and books and movies, you know?

critics need ~community~ too.

or maybe we don’t maybe i’m talking out of my ass and if i am maybe you should let me know why :)

[copias-girl]

You, Your Mother, the Cardinal, and the Christmas Lights

Cardinal Copia x reader

In which you’re dealing with your toxic mother and although Cardinal Copia isn’t riding right behind you on a pale white horse, he’s still always there for you <3

This is the song that plays when the happy part of the story starts!

•♥︎♥︎♥︎•

You sighed deeply as you strolled around the large Christmas lights display in the park. It was only a few days before Christmas; and lots of people milled about, chatting, laughing, taking pictures, and admiring all the twinkling lights. The whole park was covered in lights and decorations, every tree lit up in pretty colours. It was cold, cold enough to see your breath every time you exhaled; and fluffy snowflakes were falling lightly, adding to the magic of everything.

But it wasn’t magical for you, in fact it was far from it. Because you were with your mother, and she just wouldn’t stop berating you. This was what she did, she constantly took all of her frustrations out on you. And although you knew this, although you told yourself over and over again that it wasn’t your fault, it still hurt like hell. It wore you down, boring a hole into you where your heart should be. It made your head spin, your jaw clench, feeling like nothing more than a sad puddle on the ground.

You looked around at all the people in the park, big smiles on their faces as they enjoyed spending time with one another. Why weren’t you allowed the same privilege of just being happy?

You tried to zone out and focus your thoughts on Copia- he was your boyfriend of sorts. You had really fallen for each other since you started volunteering at his church, but you hadn’t officially declared yourselves as dating yet. Copia was the Cardinal at that huge Satanic ministry on the hill that loomed over your town. He was 50, which was way older than you. A whole lifetime older than you. You didn’t expect your mother to be very happy about you dating someone who was easily old enough to be your dad, let alone some Satanic clergyman, so you both decided to keep it unofficial for now. All this time, your mother never knew you were riding your bike up to the ministry to visit your dear Cardinal. It was only a matter of time before you joined his church, and then you could be together all the time.

You desperately wished he was here now to save you, to whisk you away and work his magic on your tense nerves and broken heart. You had invited him to be your date to look at the lights, but he had apologetically declined because he needed to finish a big stack of Latin translations and paperwork. And besides, Christmas wasn’t really his thing.

“See all these people here? They’re all with their family and friends and you’re not. You’re all alone in the world because nobody likes you! You’re worthless! And now I’m stuck with you because you have no one else.” Your mother droned on and on and on. You let out a tired groan, wishing you had at least brought earmuffs to take the edge of her grating voice. Your eyes were empty, void of all emotion as you silently took the abuse. If you talked back, it would only make things worse.

Tears threatened to spill onto your cold cheeks, feeling lonelier than ever. The winter iciness was also starting to get to you, as you didn’t even have a hot drink to fight off the chill.

Wait- is that? No, no, it couldn’t be. Your mind is probably just playing tricks on you.

But then a few people moved and you spotted him in the crowd. Were you daydreaming too hard, were you imagining things? You blinked a few times, wiping the tears from your eyes to see more clearly. Sure enough, he was really there. Your sweet Cardinal, looking absolutely dashing in his tight black suit and a warmer dress coat on top, with a long scarf bundled around his neck that somehow added an irresistible pitifulness to his look. Fuck, he was so adorable. The man was completely and utterly out of his element, but that only caused your heart to swell for him more. He looked all around for you, gloved hands clasped meekly in from of himself, awkwardly apologizing as he nearly bumped into a few people. You grinned even wider when you noticed he was holding his cane, the one with the serpent head handle.

“It’s never a moment’s peace with you! Because who else do you have besides me? No one!” Your mother scowled.

“That’s not true.” You finally spoke up, a big smile finding its way onto your face as you stared at the love of your life.

“What do you mean? Who else wants to be around you??” She scoffed bitterly.

“My boyfriend.” You replied, butterflies fluttering in your stomach just from finally saying it out loud.

“What do you mean?! You don’t have a-“

Without another word, you ran up to Copia, weaving through groups of people. “Cardinal!” You shouted, getting his attention.

He grinned brightly upon seeing you rushing up to him, pleasantly surprised when you practically tackled him into a tight hug and pulled him in for a kiss right there in front of all those people.

The Cardinal kissed you back with absolute fervour, his lips warm against your cold ones, although you felt warmer already from just being in his arms.

Some groups of people watched and gawked, wondering why such a pretty young thing like you would be in a passionate lip lock with such an older man. But you couldn’t care less, you wanted everyone to witness the feelings you had for your Cardinal. You wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

Copia brushed some snow off your hair as you did the same for him, pulling away slightly to take each other in. Your noses, cheeks, and lips were flushed from the chilly weather, and you both silently admired the way each other looked like this. Your eyes glittered with crystalline tears, joyful ones now that your love was here.

“Cardinal how did you… how did you know where I was? This park is huge.” You asked, cupping his cold face in your hands.

“I just walked around looking for the most beautiful girl here. And now I’ve got her, si?” He replied, a charming smile on his devastatingly handsome face as he pinched your cheek playfully. He then brought you in for another kiss, the whole world falling away as your lips met, causing your heart to thrum loudly in your chest.

“Come, Dolcezza, you are cold. Mi fratelli are here as well, and we have a nice hot chocolate for you, si?” The man smiled, putting a hand on the small of your back and leading you away. You took one last glance at your confused mother, before nuzzling into the Cardinal’s side and strolling away with him.

Soon, you began giggling as you heard the sound of Terzo’s voice.

“Don’t you know how to take a selfie, old man?! It’s what all the giovanetti are doing nowadays!” Terzo’s voice rung out among the crowd.

“Pff, ‘old man’… You’re only two months younger than me, coglione! Plus, I’m the one holding all the goddamn cioccolati caldi!” Secondo barked back at his brother.

You spotted them just in time to catch Primo rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his own hot chocolate.

“Ciao, tutti!” You called out, and immediately you were surrounded by the Papas as they pushed Copia aside to hug you.

“Oh! Ciao, Tesoro mio!” Terzo flashed you with that charming smile, pulling you into his arms and smothering you with multiple kisses on your cheeks under the guise of ‘trying to warm you up.’ You giggled at him fawning all over you, looking cute while he wore a warm winter coat, fuzzy earmuffs, a scarf, and his regular white gloves. “Poveretta, tu sei così fredda!” He exclaimed, taking his scarf off and looping it around your neck far too many times until you had to pull it away from covering your mouth.

Secondo was wearing his parka, the one he sometimes wore while playing Uno, and he shoved his brother aside, handing the hot chocolates he was holding to Terzo. His typical scowl softened when he looked at you, and he pulled you into a warm hug and pressed a kiss your forehead.

And finally Primo, who was looking sharp in a tailored wool coat, black turtleneck, and plaid scarf. He hugged you gently and kissed your temple, making you smile endearingly at all the love these men so freely gave you. They were all in their paints, and everyone around you was staring in complete confusion, but it only amused you as you pulled them all closer to you.

“Here, amore, bevi questo!” Terzo cheerfully handed you a hot chocolate and one for Copia.

“Thank you… All of you. You always make me feel so special.” You sighed, finally feeling warm and happy as you sipped the hot drink. They even got you extra marshmallows, just how you liked it.

“We love spending time with you, Dolcezza.”Copia smiled, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Si, cara, it is always our pleasure to be with you.” Primo nodded.

“A pleasure indeed.” Your Cardinal whispered into your ear, kissing your neck and causing your cheeks to flush even more.

The five of you walked around the park, taking pictures together and making good memories that you would never forget, screaming in laughter as Terzo chased you through one of the light tunnels.

When you had all finished your hot chocolates, you tugged on Copia’s sleeve, catching his attention.

“Si, Topolina?”

“How about we go back to the ministry and warm up, hm?” You whispered into his ear.

He stopped walking then, letting his brothers go on a little ways without you.

“Oh, amore… There is nothing I would want more. I… I love you.” He sighed into you, pressing his pointy nose into your cheek, his moustache tickling the corner of your lips.

“I love you too.. Oh, Copia, I love you. I love you, I love you!” Your heart fluttered as you whispered those words over and over again, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing your sweet Cardinal over and over again, his beautifully odd eyes closing as a soft moan escaped him.

“Are you two coming?” Secondo called back, and the two of you looked over with grins on your faces.

“Not yet, but we will be soon..” Copia murmured to you with a wink, causing you to gasp at him with wide eyes before you giggled, strolling hand in gloved hand to join the three Papas and head back to the ministry.

And you couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief. Who knew you’d be spending Christmas at the Church of Satan? But with the Papas, with your darling Cardinal, you truly felt that it was where you belonged.

end <3

Happy holidays everyone! 🖤

Tagging: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @mister-girl @faeeeeh

[yostresswritinggirl]

Hi there. Can I request a poly relationship with Albedo, Xiao and Scaramouche ? A mix of fluff n a pinch of smut is this possible ?

First of all, what the fuck gave you this wacky idea? I thought at first, wow, this is so random, how did they think this. But then upon making the banner- IT'S ALL MY HUSBANDS IN ONE FICNWOFHLSNDLKSBSOANA

I'll do my best but oh gawd, I'm just so baffled right now HAHAHHA- brain juice GONE

Three Shorties Convention

Poly Relationship with Scaramouche, Albedo and Xiao... (event masterlist)

HOW?!

Three individuals from three different nations somehow collated to love a single human, that of which is you. With how wide your range is for such individuals, we can greatly assume that you are an adventurer travelling the world.

You first met Scaramouche who was undercover, on the way to Mondstadt/Liyue through boat. As he was in the down low, he made sure to act friendly to avoid suspicion. When he heard you were on the same path, he thought of using you as an alibi.

The next person you came across was Xiao when you were passing by the Inn. You heard of the Adepti residing in the area and wanted to ask for blessings as your journey would be much more confusing and dangerous. You lit up incense and a small prayer before leaving.

The last person you met was Albedo. Mond was your last destination before you laid low again until your next long expedition, and you were looking for Alice who you met long ago during your expeditions. You last heard about Mond from her and wanted to talk to her about your adventures but ended up empty.

What made them stay/intrigued? For Scaramouche, he saw you messing with the meteors and your theories, your disarrayed thoughts and ideas somehow made sense when he looks past the lines. And you ended up being the reason he found the large piece of meteor in that... island thingy.

For Xiao, it was the incense I mentioned earlier. It was something you got as a souvenir from a commission in Inazuma, and the scent it gave off brought him to Teyvat Nirvana, the voices silent and his body soothed. His curiousity got the best of him as he tracked your path.

And finally, you first piqued Albedo's interest when you mentioned your affiliation with Alice, and when he listened to your stories (you forced him to listen since Alice was not there) it remindee him greatly of his master.

All of them were attached so badly that on your way to the wilderness one day, the three of them ended up confronting you in some kind of JJBA way with you in the middle. Their Visions and weapons were raised in worry until you identified how you knew them all.

And when they found out of each other's interests towards you, they grew more wary but turned to you: who was busy picking up a mint flower to truly understand what's going on.

"I like all of you!" Somehow all three of them were smart enough to realize that you hold at least a drop of endearment for each of them.

It was supposed to be a silent competition, that then ended up to an ambiguous relationship through coexistence. The problem here is: all four of you barely understood the grounds of a proper relationship, and delved deeper into this polyamory without a second thought.

Equal Thirds

Oh geezus, this is the most confusing setup you've been through. Having to juggle between three continents, three men, three different occasions. They were so petty to the point that your schedule must be split EQUALLY or else the other two would ambush the place you would be in.

Albedo is the busiest and lax when it comes to your "relationship schedule." As a person of Alchemy, he takes days buried deep into his research and he is more than thankful for the existence of a schedule, as he struggles with the maintenance of human relations a concrete time and day for when he is needed balances this. Albedo requests your presence during the period after his major experiments where he wishes to unwind and empty his brain of the equations and machinations. His type of love deals with comfort and distraction.

Xiao has the most free time in your relationship in terms of work, but he is also the one tied down strictly to his code of conduct. His time with you comes from your visits to Liyue and he will always be by your side whether you're in the outskirts or within the mortal realm. His type of love, ironically, is filled with longing touches and whispers of adoration for your strength and light that silences the voices in his head.

Scaramouche is the neediest boy in this bunch, the most mortal of them and the farthest from your reach. Your relationship is a secret to everyone especially the Fatui, but he makes sure that every agent in Liyue and Mond does not lay a hand on you or else he's breaking that same limb. Your time with him comes when HE comes over no matter where you are or what you do. His 'love' is filled with materialism and feisty aura, revelling in strenght and power dynamics.

When you're in charge of the schedule is the rare times that all three of you are together, because you plan your expeditions well in par with their seemingly conflicting schedules. Soon enough you four would be a whole team of travellers going around Teyvat to indulge whatever curiousities you lay upon.

"Circus Festival in Fontaine? Sign me and my three boys the fuck up. No complains, I know you're free."

Camping and travelling with them is sooo convenient too because they're all incredibly strong in constitution and battle. You only need to hang back and watch as they bring you a fireworks of elements, which are thankfully not very harmful against each other.

You're NEVER hurt or even TOUCHED when they're with you, they always have keen eyes for danger and always stick close to you to make sure you are safe. But on a RARE occasion that you DO get hurt, they have a formation: Albedo is tasked in retrieving you, Scaramouche is the backup in clearing a safe area for possible first aid, and Xiao lets all hell break loose once you three are gone.

They help out as much as they can whenever you all go out to camp but ultimately it ends up being some kind of adventuring class for the three of them since you're the master in this field.

Cute stuff: You never keep watch because they always want to cuddle, so one would be up and the other two would be cuddling you on both sides, and the rounds would switch between them while you have your beauty nap.

Albedo is pretty chill with the other two, but Scaramouche and Xiao seem to have a tension between them due to his Harbinger status. Xiao is wary and protective of Albedo because of the knowledge of his background coming from Morax. And all three of you deal with Scara's chattiness.

Your Pet Names for them! Scaramouche: Darling; Xiao: Sweetie; Albedo: Beloved. If you go beyond that, they start to see favoritism so you picked them carefully.

Their Pet Names for you! Scaramouche: My Dear; Xiao: Beloved; Albedo: Sunshine.

Soon enough, their soft rivalries turned into friendly coexistence and they would start to at least see each other in a better light besides acquaintances. While nothing physical or lovey-dovey would happen between them as they only ever see you in that way, they develop respect and slight trust. Competition long gone as it dissolves into compassion in protecting you and giving you the loving you deserve.

@albaedhoe @struggljng @heisenwurst @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @kookieyachi @struggljng @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22

Softcore under the cut! No looking, my children

In this relationship, individual and multiple participating intercourse is normal, and they happen when all parties involved are ever comfortable. With the fact that you'll change continents in mind soon after, the boys have their little rituals with you.

The most prominent of all would be Scaramouche's signature hickey on your neck. He sucks it hard enough to make it stay for WEEKS, so that when the other boys move to kiss you on your neck, they see the apparent mark and groan to themselves in defeat. It was your sensitive and ticklish spot, and he makes sure he owns it.

For Albedo, he almost always (probably in a kink way) do it with you on a surface that's NOT the bed. Table, chair, sofa, his lap, it seems that the bed is a sacred place for rest. And he usually ends up doing it when he is about to finish his work, hence the convenience of such furnitures. You were conditioned to the point that if you even just innocently lean on a furniture, your mind and body immediately snaps back to those moments, making you back off with a flushed face.

Xiao is the most innocent and yeet friskiest of them all. He loves to litter you with kisses all over your body, no bites and no scratches, just innocent flutters of his lips that makes you tingle. But such moments of lovemaking... seem to always happen on the Inn's balcony. Most of the time it's when the door leading there is closed for the night, but you were sure there were occasions that someone at least knew or saw what was happening, but you two were too drowned in pleasure to notice.

Whenever all four of you were to participate, safe words are always emphasized. Because you're suffocating right after between their bodies with all holes filled to the brim with them. Usually the formation goes as: Albedo behind you, Xiao in front and Scaramouche in your mouth. They may switch up when you still have the stamina but that's their default order, and yes, you orgasm multiple times and are overstimulated a lot. To the point that you're getting used to it.

It's a golden rule to always shower before and after your session, and they would be very caring and gentle during aftercare. With this arrangement, you always have a large bed rented or in your arsenal for a huge cuddle session at night.

[binniesthighs]

EIGHT LEVELS, THE DESCENT

CWs: death, bits of horror and fear, hellish things 

Descent 

you had never imagined death to be something like this. 

with careful footsteps you followed the hollow sound of metal on rock, metal on metal, metal on skin. 

you were scared, but a thrill crept up your throat like none other. it bubbled in the pit of your stomach and fluttered like butterflies through each and every nerve of your body. 

the hallway was dark, nearly pitch black, save for the light at the end of the hall. it seemed like it must've been the size of a pinhead from as far as you were. you thought to yourself, that this must be your punishment: walking on and on forever towards a light that you could never reach. 

seemed reasonable enough. you were not saint...if this was hell anyway. 

sweltering hot heat caught up to you as you walked on, and it singed your skin with a burn that only grew over time. your brow beaded with sweat, and your legs felt heavier with each step. 

at the same time, you felt a deathly chill: a piercing kind of cold that you could only describe as loneliness and emptiness. the two temperatures fought a terrible tryst, and your body could not decide if the shivers ailing you reminded you were really dead, or if by some mistake you had been mixed up in some devils game. 

you don’t remember dying. does anyone? you didn’t know. you can’t exactly ask someone. 

in your shock, you realize that the pinhead of light was growing larger and larger before your squinting eyes. now, the sounds of metal were replaced with wails in despair intertwined with something much different. 

ungodly sounds of pain and pleasure filled the dense air, and moaning and groaning spilled into your ears with some kind of cacophony that made little sense. 

the light approached closer and it became blinding: the kind of blinding light that you had always imagined death to be like. maybe you really had died. 

what you had seen at the end of the tunnel, was not at all what you had expected. 

a reception room. a normal one, like the ones at a hospital. 

am I a ghost? you wonder. is my soul trapped in the place that I died? 

a normal looking nurse in a normal looking nurse’s uniform waves you over. 

“me?” you mouth. 

she nods. 

she gives a curt little smile, and pats down her sterile looking baby blue scrubs. she wears no nametag, and the only thing distinguishing her is the fiery red nail polish that decorates her nails. her eyes are kind, a kind of hazel brown that looks to be a dozen different colors at once. 

“welcome!” she greets. 

“...thank you?” you return. 

“how can I help you today?” the nurse beams. her smile is perfectly white, but her teeth crooked. 

“i...don’t know.” 

she asks outright: “do you have your key?”

“my key?” 

you note that there is no one else in the waiting room besides you. light streams in from the windows, but it is pale and white, like the kind of sun on a cloudy day full of grey. the air smells dusty, old...and burnt. 

“yes?” she cocks her head. “you should have a key?” 

“i-i don’t think that I have anything...” 

a weight pulls down the pocket of your jeans and you see the bulging fabric. 

a brass key makes the imprint. it looks ancient and is a bit rusted on the edges. there is nothing too complicated about the skeleton key except for the fact that the head of the key is shaped to the number eight. 

“what...”

“ah! that’s the key. well, it looks like you’ve got an eight. that’s wonderful.” 

the nurse looks down at her desk to her paperwork, but the white sheets of paper hold no writing or ink. 

“says here that you qualify for all eight levels--just as your key says! well, now i’ll show you to your first room and you can just wait patiently in there for it to begin.” 

“it? i’m sorry, what is “it”?” 

“you’ll see soon enough dear.” 

through her crooked teeth you catch sight of her tongue, and at looks as if it is split: forked like a serpent. 

“this way!” she rouses from her desk. 

the waiting room remains empty when you follow the nurse behind a frosted glass door and into yet another hallway, but this one is illuminated with a flickering green-ish white light. the hall is quiet, and no other patients in rooms can be heard. no talking voices, no crying children, no moans mixed in pain and pleasure. 

“hold onto that key! you’ll need it. that’s all i’ll say!” the nurse nods, and her hazel eyes change color as they’ve been doing under the lights, and you can’t quite tell what color they are. 

“wait!” you reach out to her, a million more questions swimming. before you can get another word out, the door is promptly shut with a slam that seems to shake the whole room. 

the examination room seems normal, just as the nurse seemed to be at first. it is a windowless place, and you almost miss the grey light from the waiting room. a chair is positioned in the corner and the examination table is covered in white paper that crinkles when you sit on it. 

i can’t be dead. she shouldn’t've seen me. 

a lock on the wall ticks and your heartbeats match the rhythm, beating thickly in your chest. 

your eyes close tightly and you draw back your memory as far as you can take it. 

i’m asleep. i’m asleep. that’s it. i’ve fallen asleep. this is a dream. 

your eyes open, and there he is, back to you, facing the wall. 

your whole body jumps from the scare, and your chest aches with fearful gasps. 

his skin is nearly inhumanly pale and white, but peaking muscles curve under his leather vest. muscled arms stretch out bare, and every single twitch of his equally toned legs flare under his skin-tight pants. by contrast, red leather bands wrap around his arms and thighs. thick, long, silver chains drip from his wrists--it would’ve been impossible to get them in their quietly without you knowing. his hair is starkly white, much like untouched snow. 

“you have your key?” he growls. 

your voice is dry when you answer “yes.” 

the man turns. rather than the beast that you had expected, he is handsome: some kind of godly form that glows with a kind of white light even when he looks at you with his icy blue eyes. 

his sharp cheekbones are astonishing and serious. he studies you and you shy away to crinkle the paper under you. 

“you’re new.” he simply says. “we’re going to like you.” 

“w-we?” 

the man chuckles with a kind of laugh that seems to reverberate in your chest. with a wicked smile that nearly cracks the corners of his mouth, he leans in. you’re frozen in your horror when he whispers into your ear: 

“welcome to hell.” 

┈     ┈     ┈     ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟     ┈     ┈     ┈

EIGHT LEVELS | READER X OT8 | 1k SPECIAL 

Pairing: self insert, female reader, male reader, gender neutral reader x ot8 

Genre: pure smut, angst 

Tags: explicit sexual content, explicit language, minor pain play, bondage, impact play, sensory deprivation, edging, overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, throat fucking, use of pet names, degredation, shibari, pet play, sex toys, orgasm denial, marking, exhibitionism, threesome, foursome, general debauchery and more 

CWs: mentions of death, blood, hellish things and slight horror elements 

Word count: ?? 

aka the hardest thing that i will have written to this date. can you endure the pain and pleasure of eight of hell’s most sinful demons? 

~if you would liked to be tagged on this piece, let me know! 

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @julesinthesoop

[pagesoflauren]

The Highest Bidder Ch. 1 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)

Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.

There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters and family dynamics revealed in the movie.

Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, unprotected sex, irresponsible driving (don’t drink and drive!), swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)

A/N: Huge disclaimer...I really didn’t want to end this chapter the way I did, but it was getting a little too long...but there’s more coming! Don’t worry, please don’t send an angry mob after me 😱  Big love to @threeminutesoflife and @caffiend-queen for beta-ing this for me! ❤️ One last thing about the text messages: Italics are sent messages and bold italics are received messages :)

This chapter is written under the assumption that the reader drinks alcohol.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

With his bedroom illuminated by the flashing images of his television, Ransom lounged lazily in his bed. One hand was occupied with his phone as his thumb slowly scrolled over the screen, the other idly wrapped around his cock as he took in the images on the device. 

Various girls, all a few years younger than him, staring with false wide-eyed innocence or sprawled out provocatively across recliners on sandy beaches or by turquoise-watered pools. Their names or aliases were listed under the respective photos, with a number in green text next to it. 

Deciding there were too many options, Ransom scrolled back up, the hand on his cock pausing as he started setting filters through the search. He changed them to specific hair colors, skin tones and a more concentrated age range. The only filter he didn’t change was the prices--there was no limit there. The page refreshed and showed him more favorable faces. 

His mind started to numb and the faces started looking too similar. As he was ready to pack it in for the night and tuck himself back into his boxers, a strange listing catches his attention. 

He sees you, kneeling in the sand at an apparent topical destination in a barely-there bikini. Unlike the other girls, though, your face is candid, caught in a laugh, eyes crinkled and lips spread in joy. There’s no price. Just the letters “HB” in red text. 

He clicks on your photo and the webpage changes to your profile. There’s a few more photos of you: one with a cat, more vacation photos. Your location is convenient: Boston. Not too far from where he is. 

But all of that fails to answer the question at the forefront of Ransom’s mind: Why don’t you have a price next to your name?

He scrolls through a couple more meaningless pieces of information: a little blurb about who you are, your measurements, your race and your conditions.

One time only.

“What?” he wonders aloud, face scrunching in curiosity. Sugar babies don’t just have sex once and then walk away with a fortune. From what he’s heard, they bitch and moan but shut up when there’s a cock in their mouth (or pussy, for that matter). They need to be looked after either because they can’t afford it or can’t be bothered to do things on their own. Then, once he reaches the end of your profile, he understands. 

Virginity Auction. Current Bid: $8,250.

Ransom smirks at the prospect. He wasn’t looking for a virgin, but he likes the idea of taking one now. 

The number changes in real time, going up in five dollar increments before someone brings it up to $8,500. A pop-up window appears, warning him that if he’s interested, the auction ends at midnight. Ransom’s eyes flick to the top of his phone. It’s 11:57.

He thinks for a few ticks. If he pays you enough, he’ll have the convenience of entertaining himself between your legs and taking your virginity with no strings attached. Once that’s done, you’ll be out of his hair. He wouldn’t have to put you up, send you money or deal with your whining or complaining. 

Sounds like a good deal. 

Pressing his thumb into the blue button that says “Bid,” Ransom looks at the clock again. 11:58. 

Initially, he types in $10,000. But with two minutes to go and your price still ticking up, he doesn’t want to chance getting outbid by someone at the last second. He has to blow the other bidders out of the water. 

Sat up in your bed and wringing your hands nervously, you look at your cracked phone screen. Midnight has just passed and you’re waiting for a notification about the final bid in your auction. It started at $5,000 and in the week that the listing was posted, you had gotten notifications whenever it went to the next thousand. 

This isn’t how you wanted to lose your virginity. Ideally, you would have genuinely made love to somebody, someone your parents would have approved of and who truly cared for you. Even more ideally, it would have been the man who eventually became your husband...though you wouldn’t have waited until marriage to lose your V-card. You were about to take the next step in life and--you had to face it--you weren’t getting younger. 

What was the least ideal of it all was the fact that you were doing this out of pure desperation. Your graduate program was starting in a month and your savings were mostly gobbled up by application and testing fees. Living out of state didn’t help either; most of your money went to paying rent and commuting around the city. If someone paid you enough to tide your finances over, you could live off that money until the end of the semester, after adjusting to the program and your schedule, before taking on a job off campus. 

Your phone buzzed with an email from the website and you tapped the banner. Your email app launched and opened directly to the message. 

Your auction has ended. 

Reading further, you can’t believe what you see. 

Winning bid: $50,000 by Ransom Drysdale.

Fifty thousand dollars? Surely there must be a mistake. Why would someone pay ten times the starting bid? 

And Drysdale...where had you seen that name? 

Closing your eyes, you searched your recollection to place the name. It’s so familiar. 

Deciding your memory is unreliable, you resolve to a Google search of your highest bidder’s last name. 

The first result that pops up is a real estate company and a picture of famed author Harlan Thrombey, who apparently is the father of the woman who owns the business.

You feel faint...these names are not insignificant in Massachusetts, let alone the world. Harlan was a best-selling mystery writer--you had some of his books in your library back home. 

Then concern floods your brain: if this Linda Drysdale is Harlan Thrombey’s daughter, that makes Thrombey her maiden name. She must’ve married a Drysdale. 

Are you a pawn in some horrible cheating scandal? You must be, nobody has the name Ransom. It has to be an alias. Her husband must be looking for some young thing to get his rocks off. 

Stress causes your scalp to prickle as your phone buzzes again with a text message from the semi-mysterious Ransom, checking if it’s you, that he has the right number. 

Yes, you reply. 

The three dotted message bubble pops up before turning into another message.

Good. I’ve made a reservation at The Boxer in the city for Saturday. I told them you’ll check in. I told them not to charge you anything, but if you need to pay any fees, I’ll send you the money back. I’ll be there after 9. 

A chill runs down your spine at how direct he is. But, you suppose you can’t expect anything more from him. 

Okay, you acknowledge.

More dots, then another message.

Dress appropriately.

Despite your lack of experience in the bedroom, you know for a fact that he’s not referring to office attire. 

Settling back onto your pillow, you pull the covers over yourself and breathe slowly. You’ve got some preparation to do.

What do you bring with you when you’re planning to lose your virginity to a complete stranger in exchange for tuition money? 

Fuck all if you have a clue. 

You spent the days leading up to Saturday getting yourself ready. You bought a tight dress and pair of strappy heels from the sale racks. You cluelessly browsed for lingerie before an associate took pity on you (or just desperately wanted you out of her store, jury’s still out on that) and helped you select a lacy set complete with a garter and stockings. The associate absolutely gushed at how the color of the material complemented your skin tone, though you could care less. You forked over $120 for the damn thing and scampered out. Learning from your friends’ mistakes, you purchased a set of condoms using the self-checkout kiosk (and prayed you picked the right size). You weren’t instructed to buy condoms, but you figured you wouldn’t risk the chance of not having any. You endured a Brazilian wax, stifling profanities as the woman did her work. You also had trouble getting over your embarrassment; a stranger was going to see you bared all for him in a few days so if you can’t handle the wax lady seeing you, how could you handle “Ransom”?

Ransom.

Thinking about him did nothing for your nerves. You were certain you were going to lose your virginity to a man in his late 50s, who was married to Massachusetts’ biggest real estate mogul and the daughter of a renowned author. 

Dear God, what if she found out? Her father wrote murder mysteries, she had plenty of ways to kill you and get away with it. What if you weren’t even meeting “Ransom” and you were meeting Linda and she was going to kill you at the hotel?

You shake your head and look back down at the contents of your duffel bag: toiletries, a change of clothes for tomorrow, the condoms and your phone charger. You had created a playlist on your phone...if you weren’t going to lose your virginity to someone you loved, then maybe you could fake it with music. 

Who are you kidding? you chide yourself. 

You sigh and resolve to getting ready. After eating dinner, you strip off your old band t-shirt and sweatpants, remove your simple cotton underwear and novelty pineapple-patterned socks before discarding them into your laundry hamper. 

You shimmy into the lacy knickers, the material feeling quite uncomfortable against your skin. You clip the bra on next, followed by the garter around your waist.  Then you finish off with the stockings over your legs, stopping at mid-thigh. After fastening the clips on the suspenders to the lace trim at the top of the hosiery, you sit at your vanity to apply some makeup and fix your hair. 

“‘Dress appropriately’,” you mutter as you pull your dress from your tiny closet, “Hopefully this is appropriate enough.”

You maneuver yourself into your dress, struggling with the zipper for a moment then smoothing the material over yourself. You slide your feet into your heels and teeter a bit as you stand up. 

You’re not planning to really impress too much, so you pull on a downy, puffy jacket to combat the sea breeze the city gets in the evenings. 

Pulling the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, you look in the mirror one last time. You catch the reflection of the clock: it’s almost seven thirty. Taking into account how long it’ll take for your rideshare to arrive at your house and the traffic in the city on a Saturday night, you’ll arrive at the hotel a little after eight. You suppose now’s a good a time as any to leave. 

Requesting a car for pickup, you realize there’s no going back. 

Stepping into the hotel lobby, you know you don’t belong here. 

With modern touches and old architectural charm, the men wearing luxury tailored suits and women wearing unaffordable dresses, you felt you stood out like a sore thumb. The most luxurious hotel you had stayed at was a Holiday Inn Express near Disneyland. And it barely had functioning lighting. 

You timidly approach the front desk. Though the receptionist gives you a warm smile, you’re not comforted. 

“Hi, I’m here to check in for Drysdale?”

The man’s eyebrows raise in what you assume is recognition. 

Maybe this “Ransom” meets other escorts here often, then.

“While we would normally ask you to cover the fees upon checking in, Mr. Drysdale is a very good friend of the hotel so we’ve accommodated his request to make an exception,” the man informs you as he types away. He grabs a keycard and hands it to you. 

“You’ll be in room 6-F. Have a pleasant stay.”

“Thank you,” you say meekly, taking the card before turning to take an elevator up. 

Once on the sixth floor, you locate and unlock the room. The lights turn on automatically and you’re met with a cool gray toned room, which gives the room a darker atmosphere already. 

The entrance is narrow and you assume the bathroom is on the other side of the wall on your right. With wobbly steps, you move forward and see the room open up. 

The first thing you notice is the king-sized bed. Beyond it, the windows show illuminated facades of buildings outside. On the wall opposite the bed is a desk with a speaker and aux cord on top of the marble workspace and a fridge underneath. A TV is mounted on the wall above the desk. Next to it is an open wardrobe with a bathrobe hanging, cubbies and drawers, as well as a tray of refreshments. 

You set your bag on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe and retrieve the remote to turn on the TV to create some white noise and maybe kill some time (and nerves) as you wait for nine o’clock to come around. 

You wander into the bathroom and look yourself over in the mirror. You shake out your hands and pace, deciding to take off your heels for now as you pad around the room. 

Ransom was bored of dinner and his host knew it. Everyone else kept a level of decorum, but all the guests knew this get together was extending much longer than necessary. 

Checking his watch, it was quarter to nine. He threw back the rest of his drink before nodding to his friend and exchanging brief glances as he got up. Haphazard goodbyes were thrown his way as he pulled on his jacket and Ransom gave a nod of acknowledgement. He exits the restaurant, whistling to get the valet’s attention and handing the man his ticket as he pulls out his phone. 

Where are you? he messages you. 

At the hotel, sir. Room 6-F. 

“‘Sir’,” he muses to himself, smirking at the title you’d given him. He didn’t even need to tell you to address him that way. 

Have them bring up my usual from the bar.

Yes, sir.

Wondering how far he can take this, he asks you to send him a picture. 

He’s surprised with how quickly you comply. You’re sat on top of the sheets at the edge of the bed, leaned forward so your elbow can rest on your knee and the camera can get a view of the plunging neckline of your dress. Your hair falls nicely over your face and your palm cradles your chin. 

He can’t lie, he loves the way you look. You may as well be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Taking a few deep breaths, he wills himself to calm down; he can’t get hard yet. 

He puts his phone into one pocket and reaches into the other as the valet returns with his car. When the valet approaches, Ransom hands over a few sad, crumpled bills as a tip before walking around to the driver’s side of his car and climbing in. Sending one last message to you, he pulls away from the curb and heads to the hotel. 

I’m on my way. Make sure my drink is there before me.

You let out a spastic sound of nervousness and shook out your hands again before getting up to pace around the room again. 

The drink was on the way, you placed the order as soon as he told you to. You didn’t want to give him any excuse to not pay or complain you were unsatisfactory. Though, not having any experience in bed might prove that mission to be difficult regardless of whether or not his drink came in time. 

There’s a knock on the door and you jog over, pulling the door open to find a waiter holding a tray with a glass of what you assume is Scotch perched on top, covered with one of those signature little hats hotels always place on top of glasses. 

“Thank you,” you smile, carefully receiving the glass from him. He bows silently and turns to leave. 

You shut the door and place the glass on a coaster you find on the desk. You bother yourself with where the glass should rest (next to the speaker? on the far end, closest to the wardrobe?). Deciding it should be on the bedside table, you move the glass and coaster there then return to the desk to plug your phone in and play some music. You cringe at your choice to include Ed Sheeran in this playlist, but there’s no going back now. 

Suddenly, you hear the clicking sound of the door unlocking and you scramble over to sit on the bed to put your heels on. 

When you look up, you’re shocked to not find a man in his late 50s, nor the severe looking woman you’ve seen plastered on real estate posters. 

You find a man who can’t be that much older than you, dark hair and blue eyes that stand out in the dim light of the entry hallway. His cheeks are pale and rosy, framed by a strong jawline. He’s tall, crown of his head so high towards the ceiling. His broad shoulders nearly touch either side of the walls as he approaches you. 

He’s dressed rather casually, as if he was out to dinner with friends. The color palette of his outfit matches the hotel room: cool gray henley shirt, black blazer and jeans, finished off with a pair of brown boots and belt to match. If you’re honest, he looks like a model. He looks like he could have any woman he wanted. 

Why the hell does he want a virgin?

When he comes to stand in the room, hands tucked into his pockets, he looks you up and down from where you’re seated. His lips pucker thoughtfully and you see how perfectly pink and full they are and you wonder what it would be like to kiss them...

Nope. We’re not doing that. It’s a one time thing and that’s that. You remind yourself.

His eyes catch the glass on the bedside table and he plucks it up, removing the paper covering before bringing it to his lips to drink.

When the glass is halfway to his mouth, he hooks a finger at you. “Stand up.”

As he drinks, you obey, rising from your place on the mattress and smoothing down your dress before folding your hands together. 

He pauses his sipping, “Turn.” 

Hands falling out of each other’s grip, they land at your sides rather limply and you begin turning, giving him a three-sixty view of your body. You feel heat creeping up your neck and settling into your cheeks. 

When you come back to face him, he throws his head back to finish his drink and places the glass back on the bedside table, but he misses the coaster. You cringe inwardly at the ring that will surely form on the surface later. 

Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. You feel like a deer in headlights, unmoving as his gaze continues to flit over your figure. You wonder if he knows you’re holding your breath. You wonder if he can hear how quickly your heart is pounding. 

When he goes to take off his jacket, things start feeling real. You don’t know how to describe the sound that leaves your throat, maybe something a frightened toad would make. Ransom halts and throws you a perplexed look and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. 

He rolls his eyes. “You nervous?”

The words blend together, but his voice is so honeyed and silken and you can’t help but sigh inwardly at the sound of it. 

Your jaw is slack and can’t make any sounds rise from your larynx. You snap your mouth shut and manage to nod stiffly. 

Rolling his eyes again, he crosses the room to the mini fridge under the desk and pulls the door open. Crouching down, he shuffles through the various little bottles inside before turning and tossing one to you. 

Your balance teeters as you fumble to catch it, the glass slipping out of your grip a few times before you fully grasp it.

The cap makes a cracking sound as it separates from the tamper evident band when you twist it open. You don’t bother to look at the label or pay any mind to the color of the liquid. Once the bottle’s open, you tilt your head back and drink, feeling the burn travel down your throat. When you stop, you notice you’ve had almost all of it. 

Your eyes meet Ransom’s again and he raises his brows as if to ask, Better?

You finish the remaining contents of the bottle and feel the liquid settle in your belly as you twist the cap back on.

“Thank you,” you muster your voice to say. 

His eyebrows raise again, showing his disinterest, and he holds his hand out. You’re certain you resemble a child when you use both hands to carefully place the bottle in his hands. There’s a flicker of confusion that crosses his face and you think you were meant to place your hand in his, but he turns and places the bottle on the desk. 

There’s a sense of dread that settles in your stomach when you realize there really is no going back and no more stalling. You can’t read the expression on his face, but you’re certain he’s not pleased with how slowly this is going. 

Summoning your courage, you reach your hands up behind you and begin to pull the zipper down...

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

Highest Bidder Taglist: @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @iloganjade @twittytelly @xoxabs88xox @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @meaganottiz02 @princess-evans-addict @kianifan @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @random-things-i-love @captainchrisstan @daughterofthenight117 @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @thatonefangirl111 @sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @farremoved @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981​

A note about tags: If your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you for some reason. While comments asking for me to tag you are okay, it is much easier for me to keep track of my tag lists if you send an ask. That’s the sure fire way to guarantee I’ll tag you. 

Additionally, if I forgot to tag you, please gently remind me via my ask box.

[legoshi-plz]

Captivity (Legoshi x Reader)

Summary: You and Legoshi are kidnapped and forced to breed. That’s it.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW 18+), Dark Themes/ Elements

A/N: @jiffygis requested a Legoshi x Omnivore! Reader so I went with a Dog because it fit the narrative of the story a little better.

///////////

“HELP! ANYONE PLEASE!” You scream as you’re thrown into the cellar. The floor is cold and hard, you scrape your knee on the way down.

“Y/N? Is that you?” You recognize that voice but it’s much too dark to see.

“Oh shit, that right you can’t see. It’s me, Legoshi,” Your heart leaps at the familiar name.

“Legoshi! Where are you, I can’t- I-,” you flail your arms until you come into contact with the soft warmth that is his fur. He takes your hand.

“Where are we?” You whine, a tremble of fear lacing your voice.

“I don’t know, I was with the rest of the art department setting up for the festival and next thing I knew, I woke up here. Do you remember how you got here?” You could hear in his voice he was trying to be rational and keep the panic at bay. For that you were grateful because you were already on the verge of tears.

“N-no,” you choked back a sob.

Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it tog-

“Well well well, what do we have here,” came a loud voice as the lights finally came on. You could finally see that the cellar wasn’t a cellar at all. It was a room with a large glass wall that revealed the source of the voice on the other side.

An older ram with horns so big they could have only been surgically enhanced stood on the other side. He wore an all red suit with gold cuff links and was flanked by two equally luxurious bulls, his protection no doubt.

“I see the boys weren’t lying when they said they’d brought me a prize. Quite the specimens indeed,” he grinned manically, revealing a set of pristine veneers.

“Who are you? What do you want from us?” Legoshi asked, subconsciously pushing you behind him in case things went astray.

“Ah yes, I suppose an explanation is in order. [Redacted]’s my name and I’m what you’d call.... a breeder. Used to breed for the Black Market but there’s no real money in that. Not like in Brawls that is.” Your heart sank at the words.

Brawls were an evolved form of antiquated Dogfights. They were illegal which made the underground circuit that much more profitable. You cringed at the thought of him entering you two into such a life. Legoshi was strong, an Alpha male, a wolf; he’d make it for sure. Yourself on the other hand? You were a Dog, a [Y/D/B] to be exact, one of the most domesticated species out there. You didn’t even eat meat for goodness sake! You wouldn’t last a minute in one of those bloodbaths.

“Seeing how easily my men brought you in, I can tell that neither of you can put up a fight. Looks like you’ll just have to serve a higher purpose.” The Ram guffawed a hideous laugh, his lackeys joining in obnoxiously.

“Please just let us go! We won’t tell anyone!” You yelp, still clinging to Legoshi’s hand.

“Oh I intend to let you go, dearie. After you’ve earned your freedom. You two are gonna breed me pups. Grey Wolf fighters will dominate in the ring and you’re going to give me a whole army of them.”

“But I’m not a Grey Wo-

“That’s clear to everyone in this room, Dog. But you’re young, healthy, and ripe for being bred. With genes as strong as his, they’ll run right through you.” He fished through his jacket pocket, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.

“Now.... how old are you two?” His lust-tinged eyes raked over the two of you.

“We’re highschoolers!” Legoshi spat, baring his fangs.

“That don’t answer my question.”

“Eighteen.” Legoshi said through gritted teeth.

“E-eighteen,” you sighed in defeat.

“Thought so. A little too young for my taste, so unfortunately I won’t be joining you for your first few breeds but maybe in future romps. However, my boys will be staying behind to make sure Wolfie gets the job done right.” The Ram began to make his exit, pausing right before he reached the doorway.

“And if he doesn’t get the job done right, my men will be sure to give you both a hands on demonstration on how to breed. And I assure you, no one breeds quite like bulls.”

The door slammed and you felt your heart drop. You looked up at Legoshi but he was refusing eye contact, his glare focused on the 2 enormous bulls on the other side of the glass who pulled up 2 chairs, waiting for the ‘show’ to start.

“Look we’re gonna give you about 15 minutes to get your shit together. Talk it out, foreplay, whatever you gotta do but if when the times up, we don’t see any fucking, we’re coming in and I’ve got a hard-on you wouldn’t believe, sweetheart,” One of the goons smirked, winking at you. You dropped your head in disgust.

“Legoshi, what are we gonna do?” You whined, tugging at his sleeve.

“I- I don’t know,” he covered up his face with the one hand you weren’t clinging to for dear life.

“I don’t want them to... to...” you couldn’t even say it, which in a way felt worse and somehow darkened the atmosphere even more.

“Legos-

“TEN MORE MINUTES,” The bull called and you felt a chill run down your spine.

“Look Legoshi, we don’t have a choice, your going to have to-

“Don’t! Don’t say it!”

“Legoshi look at me!” He forced himself to finally face you. “You’re going to have to fuck me. We don’t have a choice in this and we can’t wait around anymore. Just... I don’t know, close your eyes and pretend I’m someone else if you have to. We just have to get the job done,” you lamented, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“What- what if I hurt you?” Legoshi’s eyes softened and you caught a glimpse of the turmoil behind his eyes. You could see you needed to grant him permission.

“You could never hurt me worse than they will if they come in here. Now please Legoshi, I need you,” you could see the resolve settle in his eyes and he sighed in defeat.

“Should I... or did you...? Your, um, clothes,” he said gesturing to your uniform.

“Oh, um, I guess whatever will get you going,” Legoshi seemed torn so you decided to proceed taking off your own clothes.

“C’mon, we don’t really have time for this. What can I do to get you hard?” You asked throwing off your top and dropping your skirt.

“I-I don’t know okay...” Legoshi said as he started peeling off his own clothes.

“Legoshi.... are you? Are you a-

“FIVE MINUTES RUNTS!”

“Yeah I am,” he cringed kicking his shoes off. He seemed mortified.

“Wow I never would have imagined,”

“It’s pathetic, I know.”

“No! It’s not pathetic at all, I’m one too. I just thought... I mean look at you, you’re the farthest thing from unattractive. And then you’re so.... well... such an ideal partner, especially in the Carnivore community, not to mention your kind of mysterious which is also desirable to most girls on top of being so kind and considerate so I just naturally assumed....” you trailed off when you noticed he was undressed already except for his underwear, taking in everything you said with an unreadable expression.

“Sorry! I’m just rambling because I’m nervous.” You unclasped your bra, revealing your chest to all three of the small audience. You heard a lewd whistle from one of the Ram’s henchmen.

“Let the show begin Sugartits, and you better make it a good one!” The Bulls roared with laughter. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before you dropped to your knees in front of Legoshi.

“W-what are you doing?” Legoshi gasped, his ears and tail nearly standing on end.

“This won’t work out for either of us if you’re soft,” you said yanking down his underwear. To your surprise, though not at maximum potential, he was far from ‘soft’.

You took his awakened member into you hands and pumped it twice before capturing the head between your lips. He was warm, oh so warm. You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling, the sensation in turn causing him to tremble.

He began to really grow in your mouth, it seemed as if the more you took of him, the more there was. You began to really get into it, using both hands to pump him while taking as much as you could down your throat. You had never been in this position before so you glanced up to see if he was even enjoying this only to find him with both his hands placed firmly behind his back, his teeth gritted.

“Legoshi...” you called in a thick voice that came out lustier than you intended, “relax, you’ve got to enjoy this to some degree of we’re going to get you to cum.”

You released his pulsating member and stood up, so that you could pull his towering frame down to lay on the ground. It was easier said than done but once he laid down, you mounted him.

“Calm down, Legoshi. Forget about them, okay? It’s just us here,” you whispered, nuzzling into his neck, hoping to calm him down. You were met with a strained growl in return. He was still holding back.

Your knowledge of sex education began and ended with sexual relations between Dogs, however, your own curious nature had more often than not tempted your porn searches towards the Wolf genre which was shockingly similar. You desperately tried to rack your brain to think of what to do in this situation but in almost every instance of a domesticated canine and a Wolf, there was very little for the canine to do other than simply.... submit. And that was exactly what you were going to do.

“Legoshi... let it out. You don’t have to hold back. I’m ready for you to take me,” you moaned, nipping along his jawline.

In an instance you were on your back. Legoshi hovered above you and you could tell something in him snapped. He was ready to finally let the Wolf take over.

He practically ripped your underwear off your body, prying your legs open and inhaling a long, pointed whiff of your natural essence. He started salivating immediately, seeming almost intoxicated off your sent alone.

He dove right in, not wasting a second in tasting you. His growls became louder as he lapped at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he growled against your sex before diving back in. You moaned as your paws found their way into the fur on his head, tugging lightly. If Legoshi was anywhere near inexperienced, he definitely wasn’t showing it.

His tongue pulled you closer and closer to the edge until you felt yourself go lightheaded. You could feel your orgasm already at its brink.

“Legoshi,” you moaned, your grip on his fur brutal as you came in ecstasy. Legoshi finally rose, his eyes feral with need. He wasted no time aligning himself with your entrance before he began to stretch you out as slowly as he could being this consumed with lust.

His growl was absolutely menacing as he bottomed out inside you, your body feeling full to the brim. He started off with a few weak thrusts before the sensation drove him to increase to a near bruising speed.

You were in heaven at the foreign feeling of being connected with another animal in such a primal way. It was like Legoshi was everywhere, hovering above you, caging you between his massive arms while he harrowed at your womb.

You were still sensitive from the previous orgasm he’d given you so the second one came suddenly, catching you completely by surprise. You cried his name in a strained, desperately horny voice that sounded almost nothing like you.

Legoshi’s thrusts became harder, with more force as his knot began to lock into place. With a few more pumps, he came with a howl, his body locked into yours by the swollen knot. You both caught your breath as the reality of the situation began to dawn on the two of you again.

“Shit, Y/N are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His exhausted eyes filling with a light panic. You brought your hand to the side of his face to stroke his fur in an attempt to calm him. From the way he nuzzled into your hand, you’d say that it worked.

“I’m fine, Legoshi. More than fine. That was.... incredible,” you didn’t miss the way his tail began to wag at the praise.

“Y/N, I-” he was cut off by the sound of the door slamming. You both looked over to see the Ram’s henchmen had taken their exits, their jobs done.

Your eyes began to feel low, and you struggled to keep them open. Legoshi noticed your spent state and wrapped his arms around you, flipping the the two of you so that you were lying on his chest. You buried your face into his soft as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

“Y/N.... I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now...” was the last thing you heard before slumber claimed you, Legoshi’s confession falling of deaf ears.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Cruel Summer

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Based loosely off of Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift; You shouldn’t have given in, shouldn’t have caved to him. But what could you say? Some people were just too irresistible. But one too many bad choices lead to tension that even the worst of the worst couldn’t bare.

Word Count: 5473

Warnings: Angst, smut, dom/sub elements, daddy kink, dirty talk, very slight age gap, please let me know if I missed any

A/N: Tags are at the bottom. Please please please let me know what you think, this writing style is a bit out of my comfort zone. I’m trying some new things out before writing my book and really need all the feedback possible. Positive and constructive please. NO spoilers, taking place before the events of Knives Out, age difference of Meg and Ransom was skewed to fit timeline/idea // Read on AO3 here

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs welcomed and highly appreciated!

The wintery chill of the evening Massachusetts air threatened to seep in, blowing harshly against the windowpanes and spinning it’s way through every bare branch and thickly coated pine tree on the property. A typical monthly gathering of family and those like family, a gun show and jab contest dressed up to look like a quiet evening around the fire with loved ones and good food. 

Gazes darted around the room, a tension so palpable it made even the Thrombey family uncomfortable. No one could quite place why though, or even which pair was causing the air to thicken. A typically thin lipped, on edge, cut throat monthly dinner was somehow even more treacherous this time around. 

But no one would have guessed that it involved you. Usually revered as the quiet one, the one who steered away from trouble and left before the tension boiled over, the girl who brought bright smiles and a sharp mind, Meg’s best friend since diapers, your father’s accomplished author for a daughter; not one person would have even thought to have blinked an eye in your direction.

But no one in that room knew why the air was so thick you could taste it, why the sound of the metal knives scraping against expensive glass plates was more bearable than breathing in the smog of tension. One wrong move and-

“So, what’s got everyone’s knickers in a twist, huh?” The smug, faux caring, intoxicating drawl that got you in this mess. 

The flood gates were open now. Everyone talking over the other, talking louder and louder, unknowingly looking for the cause of the uncomfortable feeling that sat low in their bellies. It didn’t last too long, maybe over a minute before it fell silent enough that you could hear the wind whistling outside.

Even with your gaze downcast to your plate you could feel everyone turn to look at you, eyes judging and calculating, picking apart every move, ever wrinkle in your clothes, and twitch of a muscle. 

“You’ve been quiet,” it was your father speaking now, and for the first time you were thankful for that, “What’s new with you, dear? How’s your third book coming along?”

A shrug as you met his gaze, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s coming.” Your tone was practically unreadable, unamused and almost annoyed. 

A snicker from the other end of the table had all of you snapping your heads in the direction of the noise. A shit eating grin was plastered on Ransom’s face, eyes glinting with mischief. You tried your damnedest not to notice how the ruby color of his scarf brought out the ocean blues you got lost in too many times, or how the cream color of his worn sweater was practically taunting you with every memory of you in that sweater. But you knew him, you knew him too well for your own liking, for your own good. And you knew he did things with a purpose. 

“What’s so funny?” His mother snapped at him, his lips pulling into that smirk that had you at his will one too many times. 

“Just never thought I’d hear little ol’ (Y/N) say something along those lines again.”

Pin drop. Silence and shock coursed through every fiber of every person sitting at that table. Confused glances between the two of you, unnerved and in disbelief. 

“What the hell, Ransom? Why do you-” Meg started, voice loud and higher than usual in agitation. 

But you cut her off, staring back at the man who seemingly was doing whatever he could to get under your skin. “Hugh, if you’ve decided you’re going to tell a story, at least make sure to tell the fucking truth.”

A few hushed gasps echoed around the table as Ransom matched your stare. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. You know that’s not what I like you calling me.”

You scoffed, “You lost the privilege of me calling you what you want the day you told me to leave.”

“As if you didn’t want it just as badly. I seem to recall rather clearly you begging for me.”

“And I seem to recall rather clearly you telling me to get my shit and get the fuck out.” You snapped, feeling your skin heat with embarrassment and agitation. No one was supposed to find out like this, no one was supposed to find out at all. 

Ransom stood suddenly, stalking over to you, eyes never leaving yours. He towered over your sitting figure for a moment, trying to melt your resolve before he leaned down, face only inches away from yours. The musky vanilla and cedar scent of his cologne, the mintiness of his breath with a hint of whiskey, the warm scent of clean cotton from his clothes, it was all almost too much. “Let’s get this straight, baby girl,” the nickname was taunting you like a schoolyard insult, “we had an arrangement. That arrangement didn’t involve feelings. You ruined that.”

“Yeah, because me loving you is the worst thing you ever heard.” You stood as well, at your wits end with this situation, with him, “Dumbest mistake of my life was thinking how you felt when you were drunk was how you felt when you were sober. Fuck you, Ransom." 

He stood back some, moving out of your way as you grabbed your jacket off of the back of your chair, storming out of the too warm mansion and into the freezing cold. Ransom’s voice followed after you, "Don’t forget you already did, sweetheart.”

-

Notification after notification, endless vibration making you want to pull your hair out. A long drive home with a clenched jaw and a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. The day couldn’t be over soon enough, an escape from the embarrassment and misery of that excuse of a dinner much too far away for your liking. 

The hope that your apartment would have been your ticket to peace and quiet was quickly destroyed when there was banging on the door. A huff as you trudged out of the blankets on the couch to the door, swinging it open to see a distraught Meg. 

“What the hell was that about?”

There it went, any bit of resolve and composure went out that front door when she took a step in. Tears quickly welled in your eyes, falling in little streams down your face. The agitation on her face was quickly replaced with worry as she wrapped you in a hug, “Hey, hey, no need for that. Come on. Let’s get you something to drink and then I want you to tell me what that was all about, okay? I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on, alright?”

She walked you through the kitchen, making you both a cup of hot tea and grabbing a handful of snacks before steering you back towards the couch, sitting the both of you down. Meg’s eyes filled with relief as she watched you sip at the warm liquid, sniffling softly as you calmed yourself down. 

“Okay, start from the beginning. What happened?”

-

Warm, low lights, a soft thumping from the outdated speakers, a happy, giddy atmosphere floating over the table. A small, cheesy banner sat taped to the edge of the booth, bright tacky colors spelling out “Congratulations”. Two of your friend sat with you in the rounded corner booth, your leg sticking out to the side and bouncing with slight anticipation. Even though you requested a small thing, your beloved friends Shelby and Laura had a hard time doing things small.

But they insisted it wasn’t a lot. Meg was off studying for finals and wouldn’t be able to make it so instead Shelby invited her boyfriend Jay and told him to bring a friend or two along. And not to forget the cake. Their last phone call twenty minutes ago consisted of reiterating the confirmation over and over again. You’re on your way? Awesome great. Who’d you bring? Okay. Did you get the cake? Okay. Don’t forget the cake. Okay. Don’t ruin the cake. Okay you’re sure the cake is okay?

Laura and you couldn’t help but giggle at her, anxiety and anticipation evident in her features as she checked her phone again and again, eyes darting to the entrance waiting for her boyfriend and his friends to enter the hole in the wall bar with that god damn cake. 

Excusing yourself to the bathroom seemed to speed up the time because as you returned you nearly tripped over yourself. There was Shelby, cuddled up next to Jay. And Jay had two men sitting next to him, one you didn’t recognize and one you knew all too well. Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

A man you hadn’t seen in easily a year or two. He had began to skip out on family dinners, tired of the endless drama and bore of it all. Even when the family took their yearly vacation together and during the holiday parties he somehow managed to not be anywhere insight, despite his mother insisting he was there. 

“Look at you, little (Y/N), all grown up now.” His eyes shamelessly raked over your figure, taking in how your body had changed over the years, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, brat. Since before you published the first book.”

You huffed out an anxious laugh, nodding as you took your seat at the end of the booth, opposite of him. “Y-yeah, it’s been a while. You kinda stopped coming around.”

“Can you blame me? My family would make anyway go insane. I’m surprised yours has stayed around as long as they have. But enough about me, sweetheart, from what I’ve been told we’re here to celebrate you-”

Shelby squealed some, “Yep! And that’s why,” she hung onto the end of the word as she lifted the lid of the box that was now sitting in the center of the table. Once the top was off, the sides fell down, revealing a cake decorated to look like a book with the title of your second book you had just published on it. The whole reason you all were here. 

Your heart swelled at the gesture, “Aw! Shelbs! Thank you so much!” You gave her a small little pout, “God I’m gonna cry. I can’t believe I actually did that. Twice now!”

Laughter erupted around the table, the group continuing to shower you in drinks, gifts, and affection. Jay bought you a drink and some food, Laura had gotten you a customized journal with your favorite quote from the book on the front of it, Shelby kept giving you little cards with her favorite things about the books you’ve written in them. It wasn’t long until the group started to dwindle though. First Jay’s other friend who probably felt awkward, then Laura who had to work in the morning. 

Ransom and Jay decided to play a round of pool before Jay and Shelby headed out for the night, and Shelby took the time to interrogate you. 

“Oh. My. God. He is so fucking hot. How the hell do you know him? You never leave your apartment.” She fawned over Ransom, who currently had his back to the two of you at the other side of the bar. 

You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief. “First off, you have a boyfriend,” your reprimanded playfully. “Second, that’s Meg’s older cousin. He’s like 4 or 5 years older than us. Spoilt brat. Never worked a day in his life. Third, before you even suggest it because I see that look in your eye. I’m not sleeping with him. I didn’t even let him buy me a drink when he offered let alone going home with him.”

She pouted at you, “Come on, (Y/N/N), you’ve been so stressed with the editing and the publishing. Just have a little fun.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning over and grabbing a nacho to throw into your mouth. “The only fun I need after all this is my handy dandy blue vibrator under my bed. No need to go home with him.”

She scoffed. “Fiiiine, whatever. I still think he’s hot.”

The two men came back a few minutes later, laughing loudly and teasing one another. It was odd, rare even to see Ransom genuinely laughing, whole chest vibrating with the motion, genuine happiness seeping off of him. Jay collected his things as did Shelby, both bidding you a goodnight, Shelby throwing a wink in as well as they exited. 

“Then there was two,” Ransom drawled, smirking lazily at you as he finished off his drink. “Come on, (Y/N/N), let me buy you a drink.”

You smiled, huffing out a small laugh as you shook your head. “I’m good, Ransom. Really.”

“After all those years of you stealing my stash I’m actually willing to buy you a drink and you’re telling me no?”

You rolled your eyes, butterflies beginning to swarm inside you. “I’m telling you no because I still have at least a thirty minute uber ride home and don’t want to be overly intoxicated. The only thing I want right now it a plate of pancakes and some greasy hash browns.”

“Then let’s go get some,” he offered, a somewhat uncharacteristically sweet smile replacing his smirk. “Look, I haven’t seen you in a while and you just accomplished something so let me at least try to do something nice.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You? Hugh Ransom Drysdale? Do something nice? Oh I must be dead.” He pouted at you, the slight disappointed look in his blue eyes sending you reeling. “Fine. I won’t pass up on an offer like that. Just make sure you take me somewhere good." 

Thirty minutes later you sat in a small diner that was essentially in the middle of nowhere. The name GiGi’s was in neon pink light on top the structure that looked like it was plucked out of Grease. A few semi-trucks littered the parking lot and only a couple of faces of customers sat in the diner. 

Ransom had already threw you for a loop, opening doors for you, turning the music down to ask you about your book; and not just what it was about, but what inspired you to write it, what was your muse. He had let you pick the seat and even ordered for you when the waitress came over. Two breakfast samplers with extra crispy hash browns, and two strawberry milkshakes because ‘why not? It’ll be just like when we were kids’.

You were beyond shocked at how comfortable you felt around him. No awkwardness or anxiety that had hit you earlier. It was simple, felt easy, felt right. 

"So, I have to ask, why are you suddenly being nice to me?” The question was simple enough, lips wrapping around the straw of the milkshake after you asked, watching him and waiting. 

“Was I ever not nice to you?” He asked, bemused and quirking an eyebrow at you. 

Swallowing down the cold liquid you scoffed. “Seriously? You’ve been a dick to me since I was like 12 or 13. Whenever you started hanging out with that one guy in high school - Chuck? I think. Anyways, it got even worse after you turned 21. You pretty much outright refused to acknowledge my existence." 

He pursed his lips as he thought about it, "I- okay yeah, you’re right. I did do that- but in my defense I stopped acknowledging you because I thought you were hot and I was older so it was creepy and just easier to ignore you.”

You blinked a few times, shocked and processing what he had just said, “You what?”

He shrugged, taking a bite of his food. “Yep. And Chuck thought you guys were annoying so I dunno, guess I thought being a dick would keep you guys from pestering me.”

You couldn’t help but glare at him softly. “Then why did you come out tonight to celebrate my book? And offer to buy me drinks and food?”

Ransom suddenly looked a lot less relaxed, stern and serious as he kept his gaze on you. “Do you really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?” You challenged back, heart thumping in your chest. 

He broke out into a huge grin, chuckling some, “Still not the one to ever back down from me. God, I love it. The reason I came out tonight was because, whether you believe it or not, I’m actually a fan of your writing. I have two copies of your first book and I already preordered the second. The reason I stayed out is because I realized how much I missed you. Most of my favorite memories from when I was younger involve you.”

“Really?” You inquired, munching on the food in front of you. “Like what?”

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t have let that one slide.” He chuckled softly. “One of my favorite memories is when I was probably 10 or 11, I think you and Meg had just started school. And you guys were learning about the stars and space and for some reason I was really obsessed with astronomy at the time. So one night, Meg, you, and I decided to camp out back of granddad’s and mom set a fire up for us and we sat there for hours roasting marshmallows and me teaching you guys about the constellations.”

A bright smile spread across your lips, so big it practically hurt. “I’m surprised you even remember that.”

“Hey, what can I say? I’m a man full of surprises who aims to please.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

Once the bill came, Ransom didn’t even let you see it, immediately pulling out some cash and handing it to the waitress, telling her to keep the change. He watched as you pulled out your phone, opening the uber app. “What’re you doing?” He asked quizzically.

“Calling myself a ride.” You answered, not even looking up. 

“Nuh uh,” he shook his head, reaching over and grabbing the phone from you. “I’ll take you home.”

“But my apartment is like 45 minutes away and your house is down the street,” you protested. 

“Then stay at my house tonight and I’ll take you home in the morning. I’ll sleep on the couch, you can take the bed.”

You quirked an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. “You sleeping on the couch? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” He promised, offering you a warm smile. “Now, am I taking you home or are you staying at my house?”

“…I’ll stay at your place,” you mumbled. 

Something about Ransom’s house felt oddly comforting. The large window at the front of the living room let the moonlight stream in, the darker colors that the walls were painted contrasting beautifully with every sleek modern piece of furniture he had. It was obvious his family influenced his taste some. The intricate designs on the patterns of the throw pillows something you could very easily see Halarn buying, while his kitchen was practically black, white, and silver - looking like it popped out of the modern section of an HGTV magazine. But it all flowed and melded together beautifully. 

He showed you to his room, grabbing himself a change of clothes before heading out and leaving you alone. You couldn’t help but stand there and take in your surroundings. Being in there, even without him, felt intimate. Like he was showing you a secret page in a book he loved. A few pictures were on his dresser, various ones or him at parties with friends, one of the family which was smaller than the others. It was neat, clean and tidy but most likely because of a maid and not because he took the time out to clean up his mess. And it smelled of him, everything in the room just breathed Ransom. 

Sitting down on the bed, you kicked your shoes off, sitting them down by the end before lying down and attempting to get comfortable. But to no avail, you tossed and turned for a few moments, and despite the softness of the mattress and sheets below you, you felt uncomfortable. Jeans too tight, bra irritating your skin, face feeling oily and heavy. You needed a shower and a change of clothes if you wanted to even think of falling asleep. 

Hesitantly you made you way back downstairs, where Ransom was currently sitting in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, book in hand. You didn’t even have to say anything, his eyes moved from the book to you, cocking an eyebrow, “Guessing you need a shower and some comfy clothes?" 

You nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, kind feel blah after the bar and greasy food.”

“That’s okay. Towels and wash rags are in the standing closet in the bathroom. Both bathrooms with have them but the master bathroom has better shower pressure. Just take something out of my closet to wear for the night.”

You nodded a thank you and headed back upstairs, grabbing the first sweater you saw in his closet and heading into the bathroom. A part of you felt as if you were dreaming, that this wasn’t actually happening. Any residual crush you had on Ransom from your childhood was coming back full force, and doubling all at one. A quick shower you hoped would calm your slightly growing nerves, but drying off and slipping on the damned creme colored sweater you knew you were hopeless. It smelled like him, was warm and soft. 

Before you could stop yourself you were padding back down the steps, not caring that the sweater barely covered your ass and that you hadn’t bothered with any underwear. Ransom was staring at you before had even looked at him, eyes taking in the sight of you in nothing else but his sweater, jaw set tight with a slight tick. “Whatcha doing there, sweetheart?” He urged, trying to keep his composure. 

You sat on your knees next to him on the couch, staring at him for a moment. “Debating if I should do something I’ll probably regret in the morning.”

He smirked, “I promise if you’re gonna do what I think, you won’t regret it. You can hold me to that.”

“Then make sure I don’t-” you leaned forward, closing the distance between the two of you and pressing your lips against his. The fullness of his pouty lower lip slotted between yours, kissing you in a way you had never been kissed before, completely and utterly stealing your breath and any logical thought from you. 

His hands were on your hips, pulling you into his lap, groaning softly against your lips at the feel of your smooth skin in his hand. It was a battle of tongues for dominance, which you quickly surrendered at the feel of him gripping your ass, kneading and pulling before spanking the plump flesh. 

He pulled away first, a wild look in his eyes. “Get your ass upstairs, baby girl. Daddy’s gonna make sure you don’t regret a thing.”

A shiver went up your spine and you squealed softly before giggling, high on adrenaline and him. You stole another kiss before running upstairs to his room, heart pounding and mind racing. 

Ransom came in a few moments later, quickly discarding his shirt and tossing it in the direction of the hamper before stalking towards you. He moved to hover over you, lips dancing along the skin of your neck. “God fucking damn it, baby girl, seeing you in my clothes - fuck you’re gonna drive me crazy.” He pressed a few kisses to the sensitive skin before biting down on the junction where your neck met your shoulder. 

The whimpers and moans that left you spurred him on, lips continuing their worship of your skin as his hands traveled along the outside of your thighs and up to you hips. Fingers traced along to curve to your waist, up and over your breast as your nipples prickled at the sensation. He felt every movement, every time you squirmed, every time you squeezed your thighs together, every time you rutted. 

“Can I take this off you, sweetheart? Make you feel real good, promise, baby.” A nod was all he needed and the moment you leaned up some he pulled the sweater off, tossing it aside. Ransom moved to lean back, moving to sit on his haunches, moving your thighs and spreading them to be on his clothed ones. 

“Fuck, princess. You’re so fucking perfect. So fucking wet for me, I can already see it. You my little whore, hm?” He leaned down, pressing kisses against the skin of your chest. 

A sudden slap to your thigh caused you to gasp. “What was that for?” You whined, moving to card your fingers through his hair. 

“Speak when you’re spoken to or I’ll have to punish you.” The thought riled you up even more. Being splayed across his lap, hand coming down on you as you squirmed relentlessly, taking every bit of the 'punishment’. But that was for another time, hopefully. Right now you wanted, no needed him. 

“Sorry, daddy.” Your voice was so soft and innocent, absolutely driving him wild. 

He wanted nothing more than to ram into you, make you scream. But not yet, he wasn’t done teasing. Ransom’s lips moved from the skin of your chest to you nipples, pressing a chaste kiss on one before moving to the other and back again. Back and forth as the motions increased. A kiss to a flick to a suck to a nibble. 

His lips begin to move south, nipping at the soft skin along the way. “Absolutely stunning.” He hummed, “Better than I could have imagined, pretty girl.” Soon he was situated between your legs, breath fanning over your soaked folds. A soft groan left Ransom, kissing at the skin of your thighs. “Smell so good, gonna taste even better I guarantee it.”

“Stop teasing,” you whined, tugging on his hair. 

He looked up at you, “Baby, that’s not how this works,” he tsked softly. “You want something, you need to beg.”

Another deep throaty whine ripped from you. “Please,” you whimpered, squirming. “Fuck please, need you." 

He chuckled softly, "I’ll let you off this time - Wanna taste this pretty little pussy.” Without any other warning he delved into your cunt, licking a stripe from entrance to clit before suckling on the little nub. He licked and sucked and nibbled, two fingers prodded your entrance before pushing in to the second knuckle, curling and immediately finding that spot that made you see star. 

Ransom basked in your mewls, the feel of you tugging on his hair before your grip would loosen as your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. Talented was an understatement and a part of you hated how good it was, how good he was treating you. 

He didn’t stop, determined to coax an orgasm out of you. Fingers moved swiftly, in and out, scissoring and curling. Lips worked in tandem, listening to your cries of pleasure to determine what you really liked and kept at it. It wasn’t long before your toes were curling, back arching off the bed in a loud moan, his name like a prayer on your lips. 

“Ransom,” you whimpered as the aftershocks rolled through you, his lips never leaving your core, “fuck, Ransom, daddy please. Want your cock.”

He pulled away, pressing one last chaste kiss to your clit before moving to kiss you, letting you taste yourself as he pulled his sweats down and kicked them off. Your hands quickly moved to his length, stroking softly and moaning against his lips. 

“You’re so big,” the little whine caused him to chuckle softly as he pulled away, leaning over to pull a condom out of his bedside table.

“Yeah? Think I’m big, baby girl? Want me to split you in two?” The cockiness in his voice only added to how much you wanted him. 

All you could do was nod, looking up at him with a pouty lip and wide eyes. “Please, fuck me, wanna cum on your cock.”

He growled softly, pulling the condom on and lining himself up with your entrance. Ransom teased, moving the head to hook your clit a few times, loving the little jolt and whine that would come from you. He pushed in, slow at first to let you accommodate to his girth, then a quick thrust to bury himself to the hilt, feeling as though he was hitting your cervix. 

If you had ever wondered why Ransom was a playboy, why he was so cocky and self assured, you knew why now. He pulled out almost fully before slamming back in, angling his hips to hit that spot that had your legs quaking every time he pushed back in. Each push and pull had your head reeling, moans falling freely from your lips as you scratched helplessly at his back for purchase. One of Ransom’s hands snaked between the two of you, flicking your clit in time with his thrusts. 

With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he growled out words into your skin, pushing you closer and closer to the edge;

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Perfect fucking pussy, squeezing me so good.”

“You were made for this, made for me. Weren’t you baby girl?”

“Come on, princess. Cum on Daddy’s cock. Show me how much you love it.”

One particularly rough thrust paired with a bite to your sensitive skin had you tipping over the edge, mouth open in a silent scream as your toes curled and thighs squeezed his waist. A few more sloppy thrusts and he emptied himself in the condom, groaning and moaning low in his chest. 

A few moments of breathing, neither of you bothering to move as you came down from your highs. Ransom pressed a few kisses to your neck before taking what little breath you had away as he kissed you, an obvious heated passion still boiling beneath the surface. He pulled out while he lips where still on yours, swallowing down your whine before pulling away. 

Ransom left the bed, your body quaking ever so slightly with aftershocks as he disappeared into the bathroom. He returned a few moments later, condom gone and holding a damp wash rag. He handed it to you, letting you clean yourself up as he slid back under the comforter, taking it from you when you were done and tossing it into the hamper. 

Without as much as a word he pulled you into his side, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. The two of you stayed quiet for what felt like forever, never quite falling asleep and taking in what exactly had just happened. Just as the sun began to break the night sky, he moved so he was facing you, lying on his side. Crystal clear blue eyes searched your face, a look of contemplation evident. 

“Would you want to do that again?” He asked, voice almost hushed as if he was telling a secret. 

You hesitated your answer, nodding softly, “Yeah, actually. I would.”

He smirked softly, “We’ll discuss the details after we sleep. But let’s just make sure no one finds out. Our little arrangement, okay?”

-

Meg stared at you, a look mixed between confusion, disbelief, and a little bit of disgust. “That was-” she sighed, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair, “That was a little more than I needed to know. Is he the mysterious guy you were seeing last summer?”

A small nod as you sipped at the tea more before looking at her, giving her a look that could only be compared to that of a kicked puppy. You watched as puzzle pieces fit together in her mind, slowly seeing the big picture. 

“He’s the guy who bought you all that jewelry. And the guy that got you a dog - he hates dogs - The guy who took you to Maldives and Paris? What the-” her brows furrowed some, nibbling at her lip as you nodded in confirmation, “The guy that got drunk one night and told you he couldn’t live without you? That you were his everything?”

Her words sliced deep and you sniffled to keep yourself from crying again. “Yep,” your voice was still hoarse with emotions. “It was all Ransom.”

Meg sighed softly, her sympathy evident in every move and noise she made. “I’m so sorry… Do - do you still love him?”

Time seemed to freeze momentarily, every single memory whirling through your mind. With tears brimming your eyes again you looked at Meg, feeling utterly broken and lost. “I’m scared there won’t ever be a time where I don’t love him.”

//

Tags: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @et-lesailes​ @necromaniackat​ @dramaticsassmaster​ @bval-1​ @writingoneficatatime​ @lokilvrr​

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Place Like This 4 - Ending

Warnings: this short series includes dark elements including noncon, violence, mentions of mental illness, mentions of contraception, and other explicit content. I’m not your mother, curate your own consumption.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find yourself trapped.

Note: Alright, this is gonna be the last part. Hope y’all enjoyed.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You didn’t know how you fell asleep. You chalked it up to your near-death experience and the physical shock that still ravaged your body. You were roused by a soft sway. Andy carried you up the stairs as the pale early morning light broke through the shrouded windows. You groaned, your body was sore.

He angled you through your bedroom door and set you down, your body enveloped in the duvet as he pulled the rest of your covers over you. He sat on the edge of the bed and grinned down at you. He had already dressed, the same clothing he’d shed before the fire. You turned your face away from him.

“I’m going into town. I’ll try to be quick.” He said. “There’s a lot of snow to clear though so… who knows,” His hand was on your shoulder, heavy even through the layers. “Sleep, relax…” He leaned in so that his beard tickled your cheek. “You’ll need your energy.”

You shuddered and turned your back to him. He chuckled and stood. You listened to the old wooden floor as it groaned beneath his weight and the door shut behind him with a soft click. You buried your head in your pillow as you tried to chase away visions of the night before.

You should’ve just left well enough alone. Should have.

Your sank back down into your drowsiness, reached for it, as you welcomed sleep and an escape from your new reality. If it were only for a few minutes or a few hours, you needed it because there was no true escape to be had.

When you woke again, you heard muffled voices below. Your head was heavy. You must’ve slept for some time. You sat up and climbed to you feet with a stagger. You went to your dresser and pulled out a sweatshirt and a pair of corduroy pants. You slipped into a pair of cotton panties but didn’t bother with your bra as the loose shirt hung from your shoulders.

The stairs creaked and you turned to stare at the door. He didn’t knock before he entered. Instead, Andy strode in and shut the door swiftly behind him. He placed the paper bag on your dresser as he neared and you backed away until you were against the wall.

“You’re looking better,” He said. “Your mother will be happy.” You were silent as he watched you. “I made sure she took her pills, don’t you worry, and I brought back breakfast. For all of us.” 

He turned and unfolded the top of the bag. He reached inside and pulled out a slender box. He held it out to you.

“She’s warming it up now. It was a long drive.” He said. “You should eat before you take it.”

You hesitantly took the box. Your insides twisted and you sidled away from him to sit on the bed. You carefully slipped the flap open and slid out the single pill.

“We’ll be safer from here on out,” He reached into the bag again and revealed a large box of condoms. He smiled as he faced you and read the side. “Ribbed for her pleasure, huh? Looks like I’m doing you all sorts of favours.”

You shook your head as you popped the pill out of the wrapper. You swallowed it dry and closed up the box before tucking it away in your night table. Andy set down the box of condoms and neared. He sat besides you and played with the loose sleeve of your shirt.

“I’d say we could test these out now but you’re mom’s worried,” He sneered. “Come down, humour her, and we’ll catch up later.”

“You should’ve killed me,” You croaked. 

“No fun in that,” He stood and stretched his arms behind him. “But lots of fun to be had.”

“How can you do this? How can--”

“You know what I’ve learned. This world is cruel whether you’re good or bad so what’s the point in trying.” He snarled. “Might as well get what you can out of it any way you can. Good and bad be damned.” He went to the door and swung it open. “Come on. Leave your mom waiting and she might start to expect you’re up to something.”

You rose and sniffed. You tucked your feet into your slippers and followed him into the hall. You wrung your hands. You could taste the powdery remnants of the pill on your tongue and almost felt it sinking into your gut.

Your mother was in the kitchen. She pulled out the pan of scrambled eggs, hash, and sausage. The smell of coffee floated in the air.

“Dear, you’re awake,” She set the pan down and laid out the three plates stacked on the counter. “I was so worried. How many times did I tell you when you were young to be careful of ice?”

“Uh,” You sat and Andy went to help her at the counter. “There was a lot of snow. I couldn’t see.”

He nodded subtly, a silent approval as he faced away from you. You mother divvied up the goods and Andy turned with two plates and set them on the table. He turned back from the last and took it from your mother.

“Sit, I’ll get the coffee… and your tea, of course. The kettle should be ready.” He set the plate down and pulled out her chair. 

She sat and preened and you hid your dismay. You picked up your fork but your mother shook her head to warn you to wait. You did as Andy brought you both mugs and grabbed the cream and milk from the fridge. He sat with his own cup of coffee and sighed.

“Well, it’s been a bit of a disastrous few days but… I’m really glad I was here to help you ladies out,” He beamed. “Out here, all alone, you two really could’ve been in a lot of trouble.”

🍂

Later that day, after your mother laid down for her nap, you retreated to your office. Writing would help distract you. And if you couldn’t write, it gave you a reason to be alone. You sat before your screen, staring at the blinking cursor. You were supposed to be writing about themes for unique holiday gatherings. You weren’t much of a host but writing had taught you how to bluff.

You sat back in your chair and pressed your hands to your temples. You couldn’t concentrate. You still felt a slight chill and a shadow of fatigue hovered over you. He would be back to work tomorrow, if the lumberyard didn’t shut down due to snow. The storm had slowed enough that it might not.

The door opened and you spun around. Andy let the door slowly close behind him as he crossed the room but it didn’t click. You watched him near and he reached past you to your desk. He laid down the condom and smirked.

“Well, it’s quiet around here,” His fingers flitted over your shoulder as he drew back. “I’m pretty bored.”

“I’m working.” You swiveled back and rested your fingers on the keyboard. He grabbed your chair and rolled it back. He stepped forward and bent to look at your laptop. 

“Hmm, not much,” He said and snapped his fingers. “Here.” 

He grasped your arm and tugged until you stood. He pulled the chair up behind him and sat as you shuffled aside.

“What are you doing?” You reached for the mouse as he did and he batted your hand away.

“Get undressed,” He demanded as he minimized your document and scrolled through the rest of your files. “Now.”

“Andy--”

“You don’t wanna make a scene. Wake up your mother?” He looked at you briefly. “I thought you understood how this was going to work.”

You nodded and backed away. He glanced back at your computer and sighed as he rolled the wheel of the mouse and clicked. You lifted your sweat shirt over your head and shivered. It was cold despite the distant rattle in the vents.

“He wore black. Always black. As if he thought he could fade into the background. Often he did, as he watched her. As he followed her through the crowded streets. She never noticed him, never was aware of her watcher only six steps behind…” He read allowed. “Not until that day.”

He clicked his tongue and turned to you as you unbuttoned your fly. You blinked at him dumbly and froze.

“Interesting story you got going there,” He remarked. “A bit… fantastical. Real villains aren’t so obvious.”

You blanched and looked away. You pushed your zipper down and shoved your pants down your legs. You stepped out of them, your wool socks caught in the ankles and stood. He grabbed the elastic of your panties and drew you forward.

“We’ll have to be quick right now,” He said. “But tonight, we can take our time.”

You caught yourself on his shoulder as he pulled you close. His fingers brushed along the front of the cotton and forced your legs apart. He pushed the fabric aside and felt along your folds. He poked inside you roughly and growled. He rescinded his hand and stood suddenly.

He took the condom from the desk and held it out to you. “Put it on me.”

He was quick to pull up his flannel shirt and undo his jeans. He slid them down with his briefs and pulled himself out over the top. Your hands shook as you tore open the wrapped. You flicked it onto the desk as you held onto the rubber. You pressed it to his tip and slowly pushed the ring down his length so it stretched over him. He groaned as you reached his base.

“The chair. On your knees.” He ordered as his cock bobbed before him.

You gulped and climbed onto the chair, gripping the back as it threatened to tilt beneath you. He grabbed the arms and rolled it back until his cock pressed against your ass. He hooked his hand over your shoulder as his other guided his tip down. He slid your panties aside and poked around. You arched your back as he found your entrance and pushed inside slowly.

You were dry and the rubber hurt as he got deeper. You gasped and dug your nails into the leather. He pushed himself to his limit and snarled as he wiggled his hips. He thrust slowly and the chair shifted slightly. He took a deep breath and repeated the motion, harder, so that his flesh clapped against yours. The chair jolted beneath you.

“Fuck,” He rasped as he gripped the back of your neck and slid his hand around to grope your chest. “Maybe you can write about this, hmm?”

You braced yourself against the chair as it shook beneath you. He rutted into you harder and faster with each rock of his hips. Your body responded and his strokes grew slicker and smoother. You bit into the heel of your hand as you tried to keep quiet.

“Tonight…” He spoke as he kept on. “Three taps. You come to me. Got it?”

“Yes,” You croaked as you slapped your hand back against the chair. 

His hand left your tit and stretched over yours on the leather. He clung to the chair as he pounded into even hard. You struggled to catch your breath as your core swelled. He didn’t relent as you whined and the share rocked noisily beneath you. Your thighs quaked as your orgasm bloomed and you choked on your voice.

He slammed into you over and over. The tails of his shirt tickled your ass as he did and your hips ached at the sheer force. He squeezed your neck and drew you back against him as he groaned. His hips slowed and he took long, ragged strokes as he came. He stifled his voice with a growl and stilled. 

He pulled out and pushed you away so that the chair spun slightly under you. You slipped down to stop it, your ass tender as you righted yourself on the seat. He hummed as he slid the condom off and flung it into the bin of crumpled papers under your desk. You stood and stepped past him to gather your clothes.

“You wanted this,” He said as he tucked his cock away. “That’s why you write that garbage.”

“Shut up,” You hissed as you fixed your panties and shook out your pants. “Don’t talk about my writing.”

“Excuse me,” He grabbed your chin and forced you to stand straight, your foot caught in your pants as they crumpled to the floor again. “You really wanna keep pushing me?”

You glared at him, searching his face as he sneered back. His jaw ticked and you tore your eyes away.

“Sorry,” You uttered. 

He scoffed and released you roughly. You stumbled and bent to pull your pants up. He watched as he crossed his arms.

“What happens if the old lady doesn’t get her pills?” He asked.

You took your shirt and stood abruptly. You hugged the thick fabric to your chest and frowned.

“Don’t…” You warned.

“I just want to be prepared.” He shrugged and grinned. “Just in case… something happens.”

“I’ll be good. Just leave her alone.” You stepped closer. “Whatever you want--”

“Whatever I want…” He bit his lip and his eyes drifted down. “Tonight, when you come in, don’t say a word. You get in the bed and suck my dick until I tell you to stop.” He winked and gave a low chuckle. “Oh and I got word that the yard isn’t going to be running tomorrow so… I wanna wake up the same way.”

You sniffed and glanced away. “Got it.”

He stepped closer and you shied away. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “Good girl.”

🍂

The wet noises of your mouth were trapped beneath the blanket. Andy’s thick legs bent and tented the covers as your hand slid in time with your mouth. He was salty and slick. You held in a gag as he hit the back of your throat. Your stomach had felt off since you woke but you barely noticed your discomforts anymore for this man who had made himself a pestilence on your life.

His hands pressed against the back of your head as he urged you on. You let him. You had found in the last few weeks that it was easier to just give in. Appease him and it wasn’t so bad, though his persistence remained. Any hour he was there, any time your mother was disposed, he was on you. 

You tried not to think of the e-mail you received the day before. A warning from the magazine. Your work was late and often time subpar. You needed to get your shit together. You knew why but that wasn’t a problem you could solve. No, that problem was halfway down your throat.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” He rasped. “Oh--”

You pulled your mouth off of him and the blankets tangled around you as the sudden flip of your stomach had you frantic. You nearly fell off the bed as you pushed past his leg and brought your hand to your lips. The covers slipped from your shoulders and hung from the edge of the mattress as you wretched and your entire body tense. You looked around in panic and spewed into the dish of ancient potpourri that sat in the window ledge.

“What the fuck!” Andy sat up.

“I’m sorry… I don’t---” You put the dish down and wiped your mouth. “I don’t feel very well.”

“You’re sick?” He asked as he turned his legs over the edge of the bed.

“I think so. Stomach bug.” You said guiltily. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something--”

“It’s okay, I don’t need your mouth,” He stood and crossed to you. He spun you around and pulled you back against him. “Bend over.”

“A condom--”

“I’ll pull out,” He smacked your ass and you bent over. He dragged you back onto his cock. “Fuck. You fucking edged me, you little bitch.”

“I didn’t-”

“Shut up,” He gripped your hips and rammed into you without relent. “You’re gonna clean that up. Then your mouth.” He growled. “Then we’ll try again.”

Your back ached as his pelvis crashed into your ass over and over. You let out a strangled cry and his breaths grew louder as they mingled with stifled curses. His hips stuttered and he sank into you with a startled grunt. He snarled as he spasmed and you felt his cum coat your walls.

“What the fuck?” You grabbed his hands and tried to shove them away. He clung to you and held himself deep inside of you as he purred. “Andy!”

“It’s alright,” He shuddered and slowly slipped out of you. He drew and hand back and slid his fingers through the cum that leaked from you and smeared it down your leg. “It’s too late to worry about all that.”

“What are you talking about?” You tore away from him and stood so fast it made you dizzy. “We’ve been safe. We--”

“That pill,” He pushed his tongue against the inside of his lip. “I switched the packaging. It was an anti-nausea pill.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You grimaced. “Why would you do that?”

He shrugged and laughed. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed and pushed his shoulders back.

“I’m not. I can’t be.” You said. “You’re lying.”

“Only one way to find out,” He smirked. “We can go to town, get you a test today.”

“No, no, no,” You stormed towards him and pushed his shoulder. “No, it’s not true.”

“Shit,” He caught your wrists and sneered up at you. “What is your mother going to think?”

“Let go of me. You bastard!” You wriggled in his grasp. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re a slut.” He retorted. “But I’ve got a good job, I’ve shown I can manage the house, and I think…” He twisted your wrists until you whined. “I’m a pretty decent father.”

“Stop,” You hissed.

He chuckled and stood, holding your arms above you as he did. You were helpless as you struggled against him.

“I know you’ve never really had a man in the house,” He taunted. “But you’re just going to have to get used to it.” He let go of your left arm and twisted your right behind you as he spun you. “Hell, I think your mother will be happy. A real man to take care of the family.”

He held you to him and you felt his cock twitch against you. “I hate you.” You muttered.

“I know,” He preened. “But you’re stuck with me now.”

🍂 🍂 🍂 🍂

End Note: I’ve left this fairly open to interpretation but that being said, hope you all had fun!

[encrucijada]

PÍA RAMBLES #1

i wanted to do more of a chill writing update because i am kind of excited for this?? i don’t usually do writing updates but this story holds a dear place in my heart and i wanna talk about it.

[ image id: a dead bird in a light grey background with the word “fantasybane” written above it in serif font / end id.]

if you guys are reading this it means i have gotten through the grace period of my hyperfixation and this is now my secondary wip (hopefully it stays that way lmao).

FANTASYBANE is a low science fantasy / lit fic novel, so it’s basically my bread and butter except there’s science now because the story is about human experimentation. but i am too dumb to write actual science, that’s where the fantasy comes in. for the longest time i have referred to this book with this logline: a scientist on an island performs human experimentation to prove that fantasy can be a reality.

okay. what the fuck does that mean? first you gotta know about the original iteration of fantasybane, which was a story i used to update on quotev.com. not anymore though and it has since been deleted so don’t go looking for it. that story was HIDEOUT:

[ image id: an aerial view with a line of pine trees on the foreground and mountains on the background. the word “hideout” is written on the left corner in a thin sans serif font / end id. ]

i wrote hideout and got to about... chapter 12 i think?? in like the eight grade, so around seven years ago. i remember reading it out loud to my best friend when i went to her house after school. reading it back now i can’t get through it because the grammar and spelling is terrible. the story was about a group of eight kids who lived in a “forest that doesn’t exist”, they were put there because each of them had elemental powers and that makes them ~dangerous babyyy~. the conflict was supposed to be about an unknown force trying to drive them out towards a different part of the forest but ended up being about the love triangle between the fire girl, one of the lightning boys and a girl with “nightmare” as her element. idk. it was all very maze runner-y.

naturally i scratched it. i tried to rewrite the same base story again but better with my improved skills... it flopped. i didn’t even finish chapter 1. so i grabbed the main cast, renamed them, shuffled them around a bit and put them in an entirely different setting. though still keeping that concept of experimentation. and i don’t know if this is weird but i Love fantasy human experimentation. i think it’s really cool. so here we are.

what is the new plot then? it is set on an island... somewhere. joel araújo, self-made mad scientist, is trying to prove concepts of fantasy a reality. things like people having wings, mind powers, nymphs. and also trying to find proof of other concepts like the soul and the afterlife. the motto is: if it happened in a fantasy novel, could it happen irl?? his subjects are eight kids, two of which are his own daughters who are technically not kids they are both in their early 20s. diana, his younger daughter, narrates the story.

it’s a very small cast of characters and they only really interact with each other because there’s no one else on the island. here they are, from oldest to youngest:

joel araújo: the scientist

ximena cantú: wife in “fragile state”

ramona araújo: experiment on the mind (telekinesis)

diana araújo: experiment on the mind (dreams)

isaías pereira: experiment on the afterlife

alba oriol: experiment on healing

leonore santos: experiment on nymph

sebastian & joaquín ventura: experiment on the soul

clavel rey: experiment on bird wings

who they really are as people is something i can’t really talk about in detail?? not because it’s spoilers but because i am trying to figure them out again, trying to move away from hideout as much as possible. they were very generic characters in that story. everyone has had a name change except for joel and diana. i’m not even completely sold on the lastnames because i haven’t decided if outside of the araújo-cantú the others are gonna even have lastnames.

in the original version alba (then named summer blaze, three guesses what her element was) was the main character. she was the one stuck in the love triangle with joaquín (then james dare). now alba is the mum friend and she is way too old for joaquín, she’s with isaías now and they are a m/f couple in a very nonbinary way. they happen mostly because they are the only allo people close to each other in age in the house lmao. that have survived this far at least. 

diana turned into the pov character because even in the ye olden days of hideout she was objectively the most interesting character. i mean?? her dad was running the whole operation, let’s explore that. the reason the logical solution of just killing joel is taking everyone so long is because the two people with the superpowers to do that have a moral conflict because he’s their dad.

the house they live in is a digory kirk from the lion, the witch and the wardrobe looking house. i wanted there to be a softness to it to juxtapose what’s going on inside. lots of comfy blankets and pillows, the kids often make nests with them in different nooks to nap all together in a pile. joel doing his sci-fi stuff in sunbathe rooms. there’s also an overgrown greenhouse where ximena spends most of her time, if not all of it. the kids are the only human experiments around but there’s plenty of other living experiments done on animals too. the place ends up being very surreal with barely a distinction between reality and unreality.

yes, i keep writing books set in places with really tall trees. with a sky that always looks like it has a chance of rain. that feeling of before and after it rains. and i don’t intend to stop! the sun is only allowed aesthetically as it comes through the blinds and curtains. chosen song for this book is and always will be “the fantasy” by 30 seconds to mars: do you live? do you die? do you bleed? for the fantasy. automatic, i imagine, i believe.

[ikkaku-of-heart]

Whispers in the Dark

The room was dark and silent save for the faint sound of labored breathing. Blueprints and tools lay scattered across the desk, the ink long dried on scraps of paper that contained messy notes. A woman with messy curls lay in her bed facing the steel wall, her arms clutching a black stuffed dog her captain had given her years ago. Through the porthole window faint silhouettes of aquatic life moved about in the deep water, but no light was able to penetrate so far beneath the surface. The Polar Tang had submerged a long time ago and didn’t plan on surfacing for another few days.

Sometimes, Ikkaku loved being miles underwater. It was fascinating, seeing creatures most land-dwellers couldn’t even imagine, or discovering forgotten ruins of sunken cities. But other times, the dark pressure of the ocean seemed to smother her, and the engineer would grow restless, spending hours working or at least keeping busy in some way in hopes of exhausting herself to the point where she could fall unconscious the moment her head hit the pillow.

Alas, this was not one of those nights. True, her muscles ached, and her limbs sagged in exhaustion, her mind was still wide awake. And since she couldn’t fall asleep, she had no choice but to listen.

W̴h̴y̴ ̴d̴o̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴b̴o̴t̴h̴e̴r̴?̴ a haunting voice whispered in her ear. There was no one else in the room, yet she could have sworn she felt something lightly brush against her hair. Y̴o̴u̴ ̴g̴i̴v̴e̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴g̴i̴v̴e̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴g̴i̴v̴e̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴r̴s̴e̴l̴f̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴o̴t̴h̴e̴r̴s̴.̴ ̴W̴o̴u̴l̴d̴ ̴c̴a̴r̴v̴e̴ ̴o̴f̴f̴ ̴f̴l̴e̴s̴h̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴b̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴f̴o̴r̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴m̴.̴ ̴B̴u̴t̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴y̴ ̴w̴i̴l̴l̴ ̴n̴e̴v̴e̴r̴ ̴d̴o̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴s̴a̴m̴e̴ ̴f̴o̴r̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴.̴

Teeth clenched as her fingers dug into the stuffed dog’s shaggy fur. The whispers were horribly familiar. Ikkaku had heard them for the first time back in Derry Forest the night she’d been abandoned and it had followed her ever since. The sound never failed to make her skin break out in goosebumps, the inflection as smooth and slimy as slugs in her ears.

"Shut up," she hissed. The engineer knew she shouldn't even dignify the voice with a response, but exhaustion made the already impulsive woman even less rational. "I never asked them to."

B̴u̴t̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴W̴A̴N̴T̴ t̴h̴e̴m̴ ̴t̴o̴,̴ it replied. Y̴o̴u̴ ̴w̴a̴n̴t̴ ̴s̴o̴m̴e̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴C̴H̴O̴O̴S̴E̴ y̴o̴u̴,̴ ̴e̴v̴e̴n̴ ̴t̴h̴o̴u̴g̴h̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴y̴ ̴h̴a̴v̴e̴ ̴n̴o̴ ̴r̴e̴a̴l̴ ̴r̴e̴a̴s̴o̴n̴ ̴t̴o̴.̴

"Captain chose me."

She could hear the voice scoff at her petulance. B̴e̴c̴a̴u̴s̴e̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴h̴a̴d̴ ̴n̴o̴ ̴b̴e̴t̴t̴e̴r̴ ̴o̴p̴t̴i̴o̴n̴ ̴t̴h̴a̴n̴ ̴s̴o̴m̴e̴ ̴m̴o̴u̴t̴h̴y̴,̴ ̴a̴m̴a̴t̴e̴u̴r̴ ̴m̴e̴c̴h̴a̴n̴i̴c̴ ̴w̴h̴e̴n̴ ̴h̴i̴s̴ ̴s̴h̴i̴p̴ ̴w̴a̴s̴ ̴p̴r̴a̴c̴t̴i̴c̴a̴l̴l̴y̴ ̴d̴e̴a̴d̴ ̴i̴n̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴w̴a̴t̴e̴r̴.̴ A̴ ̴d̴e̴c̴i̴s̴i̴o̴n̴ ̴h̴e̴’̴s̴ ̴s̴u̴r̴e̴l̴y̴ ̴c̴o̴m̴e̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴r̴e̴g̴r̴e̴t̴ ̴n̴o̴w̴ ̴t̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴k̴n̴o̴w̴s̴ ̴h̴o̴w̴ ̴m̴u̴c̴h̴ ̴t̴r̴o̴u̴b̴l̴e̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴a̴r̴e̴.̴ ̴H̴o̴w̴ ̴P̴A̴T̴H̴E̴T̴I̴C̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴a̴r̴e̴

“Law’s never been shy about telling me I’ve fucked up. If he wanted me gone, he’d’ have done it by now.”

A̴r̴e̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴s̴o̴ ̴s̴u̴r̴e̴ ̴a̴b̴o̴u̴t̴ ̴t̴h̴a̴t̴?̴ it purred, amusement dripping from every word. Its next words were almost approving. T̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴m̴a̴n̴ ̴i̴s̴ ̴c̴u̴n̴n̴i̴n̴g̴.̴ ̴C̴r̴u̴e̴l̴.̴ ̴V̴e̴n̴g̴e̴f̴u̴l̴.̴ ̴H̴o̴w̴ ̴m̴a̴n̴y̴ ̴h̴a̴v̴e̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴s̴e̴e̴n̴ ̴h̴i̴m̴ ̴c̴h̴a̴r̴m̴?̴ H̴o̴w̴ ̴m̴a̴n̴y̴ ̴h̴a̴v̴e̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴s̴e̴e̴n̴ ̴h̴i̴m̴ ̴b̴r̴e̴a̴k̴?̴ ̴W̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴m̴a̴k̴e̴s̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴t̴h̴i̴n̴k̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴’̴d̴ ̴b̴e̴ ̴e̴x̴e̴m̴p̴t̴ ̴f̴r̴o̴m̴ ̴t̴h̴a̴t̴?̴

It was true that Trafalgar Law was a sadistic bastard. Some might even call him a monster, and Ikkaku wouldn’t blame them. She’d had nightmares about some of the things he’d done, but what comforted her was the knowledge that no matter what, Law would never harm his crew. The rest of the world saw him as the Surgeon of Death, but to the Hearts, he was a man who valued and protected the people under his command.

“Because the Hearts are his family.”

O̴h̴ ̴y̴e̴s̴,̴ ̴o̴f̴ ̴c̴o̴u̴r̴s̴e̴.̴ ̴F̴a̴m̴i̴l̴i̴e̴s̴ ̴l̴o̴o̴k̴ ̴o̴u̴t̴ ̴f̴o̴r̴ ̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴a̴n̴o̴t̴h̴e̴r̴,̴ ̴d̴o̴n̴’̴t̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴y̴?̴ ̴F̴a̴t̴h̴e̴r̴s̴ ̴p̴r̴o̴t̴e̴c̴t̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴i̴r̴ ̴l̴i̴t̴t̴l̴e̴ ̴g̴i̴r̴l̴s̴.̴ M̴o̴t̴h̴e̴r̴s̴ ̴s̴h̴o̴w̴e̴r̴ ̴d̴a̴u̴g̴h̴t̴e̴r̴s̴ ̴w̴i̴t̴h̴ ̴a̴f̴f̴e̴c̴t̴i̴o̴n̴.̴ ̴A̴n̴d̴ ̴b̴r̴o̴t̴h̴e̴r̴s̴ ̴N̴E̴V̴E̴R̴ ̴p̴l̴o̴t̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴l̴e̴a̴v̴e̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴i̴r̴ ̴l̴i̴t̴t̴l̴e̴ ̴s̴i̴s̴t̴e̴r̴s̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴d̴i̴e̴ ̴a̴l̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴i̴n̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴w̴o̴o̴d̴s̴.̴

Ikkaku couldn’t help it—she flinched. Memories of her dysfunctional family and early childhood played throughout her mind. Her brothers’ abuse. Her parents’ neglect. Even Gramps’ drunken depression. Calling the Hearts a family really wasn’t as great a compliment as she had hoped, with the bar set so low.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that her captain had saved her from all that. Swooped in and given her a new family full of love and camaraderie. For that she’d always defend him. “Law’s better than Ushi. He understands what it means to be a big brother.”

There was a dark chuckle, and Ikkaku felt like she was treading water, sharks circling below, sizing up a meal. H̴e̴ ̴d̴o̴e̴s̴,̴ ̴d̴o̴e̴s̴n̴’̴t̴ ̴h̴e̴?̴ ̴T̴h̴a̴t̴’̴s̴ ̴r̴i̴g̴h̴t̴,̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴h̴a̴d̴ ̴a̴ ̴s̴i̴b̴l̴i̴n̴g̴ ̴o̴n̴c̴e̴.̴ ̴T̴h̴e̴ ̴p̴o̴o̴r̴,̴ ̴d̴e̴a̴d̴ ̴g̴i̴r̴l̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴’̴r̴e̴ ̴s̴o̴ ̴d̴e̴s̴p̴e̴r̴a̴t̴e̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴r̴e̴p̴l̴a̴c̴e̴.̴

Black eyes widened in horror at the accusation. “What? No! I’d never—”

D̴o̴n̴’̴t̴ ̴l̴i̴e̴.̴ ̴N̴o̴ ̴m̴a̴t̴t̴e̴r̴ ̴w̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴t̴r̴y̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴t̴e̴l̴l̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴r̴s̴e̴l̴f̴,̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴'̴r̴e̴ ̴n̴o̴t̴ ̴h̴i̴s̴ ̴l̴i̴t̴t̴l̴e̴ ̴s̴i̴s̴t̴e̴r̴.̴ ̴A̴n̴d̴ ̴i̴f̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴h̴a̴d̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴c̴h̴o̴i̴c̴e̴ ̴b̴e̴t̴w̴e̴e̴n̴ ̴h̴e̴r̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴.̴.̴.̴

"Shut the fuck up!" she snapped, slamming a pillow over her head as if that might block out the voice.

However, it had already found her weak spot, and thus it hounded after her like a wolf after a wounded dear, eager for the kill.

A̴t̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴e̴n̴d̴ ̴o̴f̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴d̴a̴y̴,̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴'̴r̴e̴ ̴n̴o̴ ̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴s̴p̴e̴c̴i̴a̴l̴.̴ ̴J̴u̴s̴t̴ ̴a̴ ̴p̴l̴a̴c̴e̴h̴o̴l̴d̴e̴r̴ ̴u̴n̴t̴i̴l̴ ̴s̴o̴m̴e̴t̴h̴i̴n̴g̴ ̴b̴e̴t̴t̴e̴r̴ ̴c̴o̴m̴e̴s̴ ̴a̴l̴o̴n̴g̴.̴ Y̴o̴u̴r̴ ̴c̴a̴p̴t̴a̴i̴n̴ ̴i̴s̴ ̴a̴ ̴p̴r̴a̴c̴t̴i̴c̴a̴l̴ ̴m̴a̴n̴;̴ ̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴d̴a̴y̴,̴ ̴h̴e̴’̴l̴l̴ ̴f̴i̴n̴d̴ ̴a̴n̴ ̴e̴n̴g̴i̴n̴e̴e̴r̴ ̴w̴h̴o̴ ̴s̴u̴r̴p̴a̴s̴s̴e̴s̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴h̴e̴’̴l̴l̴ ̴m̴a̴k̴e̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴r̴i̴g̴h̴t̴ ̴c̴h̴o̴i̴c̴e̴.̴ T̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴m̴a̴n̴ ̴h̴a̴s̴ ̴a̴n̴ ̴a̴m̴b̴i̴t̴i̴o̴n̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴n̴e̴e̴d̴s̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴f̴u̴l̴f̴i̴l̴l̴,̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴h̴e̴ ̴c̴a̴n̴’̴t̴ ̴a̴l̴l̴o̴w̴ ̴h̴i̴m̴s̴e̴l̴f̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴b̴e̴ ̴h̴e̴l̴d̴ ̴b̴a̴c̴k̴ ̴b̴y̴ ̴w̴e̴a̴k̴l̴i̴n̴g̴s̴ ̴a̴n̴d̴ ̴s̴u̴b̴-̴p̴a̴r̴ ̴m̴e̴c̴h̴a̴n̴i̴c̴s̴.̴

Her arms, neck, and face began to tickle like a thousand tiny spiders had chosen to scurry across every millimeter of exposed skin. Refusing to look she continued to stare at the wall, clenching her teeth when strange shadows danced across it and the infernal scratching of thousands of rat claws echoed in her ears.

W̴h̴y̴ ̴d̴e̴n̴y̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴ ̴i̴n̴e̴v̴i̴t̴a̴b̴l̴e̴?̴ ̴Y̴o̴u̴’̴r̴e̴ ̴m̴o̴r̴e̴ ̴a̴ ̴h̴i̴n̴d̴r̴a̴n̴c̴e̴ ̴t̴h̴a̴n̴ ̴a̴ ̴h̴e̴l̴p̴.̴ ̴A̴ ̴b̴u̴r̴d̴e̴n̴.̴ ̴N̴o̴ ̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴w̴i̴l̴l̴ ̴e̴v̴e̴r̴ ̴f̴i̴g̴h̴t̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴k̴e̴e̴p̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴.̴ ̴Y̴o̴u̴r̴ ̴p̴a̴r̴e̴n̴t̴s̴ ̴c̴e̴r̴t̴a̴i̴n̴l̴y̴ ̴d̴i̴d̴n̴'̴t̴.̴

Against her will, Ikkaku let out a pitiful little whimper, hugging the toy dog tighter, yet its lifeless body offered none of the warmth or comfort Neptune would have.

Because the voice was absolutely right. They really hadn’t, had they? Sure, Mama and Papa had fought for the twins, but not for their only daughter. She’d heard them clearly through the holes in the floor as she’d laid shivering in her grandfather’s bed, sick and terrified after three days wandering alone in the woods exposed to the elements. Three days where no one had come to look for her. Three days where no one had noticed she wasn’t home. Three days where she hadn’t even been missed.

If she vanished now, would anyone notice? Would they care? Perhaps they’d even be relieved. Her family had been. One less mouth to feed. One less person for Law to worry about.

A̴n̴d̴ ̴i̴t̴’̴s̴ ̴n̴o̴t̴ ̴j̴u̴s̴t̴ ̴h̴i̴m̴.̴ ̴T̴o̴ ̴e̴v̴e̴r̴y̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴m̴e̴e̴t̴,̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴h̴a̴v̴e̴ ̴n̴o̴ ̴v̴a̴l̴u̴e̴ ̴b̴e̴y̴o̴n̴d̴ ̴w̴h̴a̴t̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴c̴a̴n̴ ̴o̴f̴f̴e̴r̴.̴ ̴A̴ ̴u̴n̴i̴q̴u̴e̴ ̴s̴k̴i̴l̴l̴ ̴s̴e̴t̴.̴ ̴A̴ ̴w̴a̴r̴m̴ ̴b̴o̴d̴y̴ ̴t̴o�� ̴f̴u̴c̴k̴.̴ T̴h̴e̴ ̴m̴o̴m̴e̴n̴t̴ ̴s̴o̴m̴e̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴e̴l̴s̴e̴ ̴w̴h̴o̴'̴s̴ ̴s̴m̴a̴r̴t̴e̴r̴,̴ ̴m̴o̴r̴e̴ ̴b̴e̴a̴u̴t̴i̴f̴u̴l̴,̴ ̴s̴i̴m̴p̴l̴y̴ ̴b̴e̴t̴t̴e̴r̴ ̴s̴h̴o̴w̴s̴ ̴u̴p̴?̴ ̴N̴o̴t̴ ̴o̴n̴e̴ ̴o̴f̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴m̴ ̴w̴i̴l̴l̴ ̴c̴h̴o̴o̴s̴e̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴o̴v̴e̴r̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴m̴.̴ N̴o̴t̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴r̴ ̴f̴r̴i̴e̴n̴d̴s̴.̴ ̴N̴o̴t̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴r̴ ̴l̴o̴v̴e̴r̴s̴.̴ ̴N̴o̴t̴ ̴e̴v̴e̴n̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴r̴ ̴c̴a̴p̴t̴a̴i̴n̴.̴ ̴T̴h̴e̴y̴ ̴w̴i̴l̴l̴ ̴l̴e̴a̴v̴e̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴b̴e̴h̴i̴n̴d̴.̴ ̴A̴b̴a̴n̴d̴o̴n̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴.

The spiders vanished, only to be replaced with the chilling, slick caress of tentacles. They combed through her hair and stroked her arms almost lovingly, like she was something precious and delicate. Like they were the only ones who could truly appreciate her value.

Like she was special.

A̴n̴d̴ ̴t̴h̴e̴n̴,̴ ̴l̴i̴t̴t̴l̴e̴ ̴L̴i̴g̴h̴t̴ ̴K̴e̴e̴p̴e̴r̴,̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴’̴l̴l̴ ̴b̴e̴ ̴a̴l̴l̴ ̴O̴U̴R̴S̴.̴

"I know," she whispered, finally sitting up, dropping the toy. Ikkaku couldn’t see them in the darkness but she could feel the tendrils tighten their grip around her, tangling and ensnaring her unresisting body. The tears that streamed down her cheeks felt so hot she wondered if they might scald permanent lines into her skin.

"It's only a matter of time."

[djarinispunk]

Beautiful, Dirty, Rich - Loki Laufeyson Mafia AU

Chapter Two - The Meeting Place

After your brunch with your father (which also constituted as a verbal beating) you were seriously doubting your prior statement about not drinking. Sure, it would just give your dad more ammunition if you made a fool of yourself, but you were so far past the point of caring that the threat didn't bother you.

You closed the door to your apartment, resisting the urge to slide down against it and wallow in your sadness. However, the sight of Sophia's head sticking out from behind your fridge made you second guess your options.

Noticing your dejected expression, Sophia gave you a sympathetic pout, "That bad huh?"

You sighed, shrugging your coat off, taking a spot on your sofa, Sophia hot on your tail. "I don't know what was worse, when we were silent or when we were having a verbal sparring match." You rubbed your temples, "Oh! And he didn't ask about Paris once."

"I wish I could say I'm surprised, but we are talking about the same man who literally never remembers your birthday," Sophia smirked slightly, however it contorted to a grimace when she saw you narrowing your eyes at her. "Not helping, noted."

You made a noise which was somewhere between a sigh and a groan, "I hate him." you let the statement hang in the air, Sophia was used to your rants about your father at this point. Her father was in a similar position to your own, albeit further down the mafia ladder, so she understood.

"Tonight, we are going to look hot, we are going to get drunk, and we are going to get fucked. Seriously."

Sophia smiled at your words, "I like the sound of that." she paused for a second, "Is that a really a good idea though?"

"Probably not" You huffed, "I mean there's a sick part of me that wants to embarrass my father just for fun, but that means I also make an ass of myself just by association."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Sophia added, to which you gave her a side a thump with your leg.

I mean you try and steal a Basquiat painting from a Mafia wedding when your high one time.

"Whatever, I'll just have to see how it goes." you shrugged checking your phone quickly, "It's already five now.

"In that case, I'll get the wine."

By the time seven rolled around you were fairly tipsy, and you and Sophia were staring intently at yourselves in your hallway mirror. You turned in your gown, admiring the way it clung to your curves and hugged your cleavage nicely — you felt good, and looked even better.

"If there aren't any hot people there tonight, I will be taking you home." Sophia joked as she lay her head on your shoulder. You laughed, looking at the two of you in your reflection.

"I'm sure Charlie will be there, wouldn't be the first time this week you've slid into his bed."

Sophia's mouth gaped in shock before she slapped your arm, "You're a bitch. And I hate you." Her face contradicted her words as she fought back a laugh. Your laughter died when you heard your phone buzz from your clutch.

"Driver's here."

As far as Mafia's went, Asgard Industries was the one in New York with the most notoriety by far. The chain itself branched off all across America and as top secret as it was, more often than not your lifestyle would be branded across the Media as one of the most dangerous organisations in the world.

At times however, it didn't even feel like you were part of one of the most illegal chains in the world, purely due to the sheer elegance of it all.

The ballroom for tonight was no exception, high ceilings decked out in the finest decor. In your tipsy state, you kept your head facing up, staring as the dazzling light projections burst into kaleidoscopes of colour. Your mouth was agape in awe. Did it make you a bad person to love this side of the Mafia?

Probably.

You and Sophia had separated only ten minutes ago. She insisted she wanted to find her father but soon, whilst on your wander, you caught her and Charlie hand in hand, walking towards the bathroom. You fought the urge to cheer at her, but knowing it would dampen their moment you bit your tongue.

Now you were left to your own devices. You hadn't seen your father yet, thank god. You were trying to prolong that meeting for as long as possible.

You were now roaming one of the buildings corridors — flask in hand. You tried to ignore the creeping feeling of loneliness as you patrolled the marble floors. You could hear the party in the next room. You knew if you wanted you could be in there, socialising and whatnot.

So why was it that you were here, sinking to the floor in defeat as you guzzled the remainder of your vodka?

You cursed yourself for being so pathetic, you could have everything you wanted at your finger tips, so why did you feel so hollow?

Of course, it was at this point in your little pity party that you heard footsteps coming from around the corner. Despite how unladylike you appeared, you couldn't bring yourself to care, remaining slumped down against the wall like a drunk.

You didn't even open your eyes when you heard the footsteps stop in front of you.

"Do I need to call security?"

The voice, deep and clear rang in your ears. Slowly you opened your eyes. The man before you was nothing short of a Greek God; thick black hair falling in waves around his shoulder like Hades. His hair sat on a hardened face, chiselled in a way that would make even Prometheus envious.

And his eyes, you couldn't even tell what shade they're were from your position on the floor. From what you could see however, his eyes were swirls of deep emerald embedded in a lake of blue.

He was beautiful.

And you were...on the floor.

His face only hardened at your words, looking down at you he spoke, "Do you have no respect for your superiors?"

Your mouth dropped momentarily at the sheer audacity of the man. You weren't sure who he thought he was, but he sure as hell wasn't gaining any of your respect.

Pushing yourself from the floor, you stood toe to toe with the man, his steely expression never changing as you looked up at him.

"Excuse me?" you asked, bewildered at his statement.

He offered no explanation, only moved slightly to the right, separating the two of you.

He smirked briefly, the expression quickly morphing into a more unfriendly one. "You're excused."

You were left to watch as the man walked away from you, his shoes tapping against the marble as he left. You were speechless, what an asshole.

After having a few minutes to collect yourself and the shock of being talked to like dirt, you decided to try and find Sophia. That was, if her and Charlie were done with their bathroom rendezvous.

You entered the ballroom once again, eyes darting around the room in search of Sophia. It was useless, the room was packed. Defeated, you decided to cut your losses, you’d find her eventually.

“Drink, Miss?” a bartender holding a tray of champagne approached you. You nodded with a small smile, downing one flute and setting it down, before reaching for a second.

“Thank you.” you smiled, the alcohol leaving a warmth to you. The bartender, slightly unnerved by your display gave you a tight smile as they walked away.

Drink in hand, you crossed the room, sighing relief when you caught sight of Sophia and Charlie bickering at each other. Alas, some normalcy amongst the weirdness of the night. You began to make your way over to the pair when you heard your name being called form behind you. Groaning, you span on your heels.

“Dad.” you put on your fakest smile as you approached him. The two of you had unknowingly practiced this facade for years now. Act like a loving father in public, then treat you like a ghost the moment the two of you were alone.

“Hello darling” he gave you a forced smile as he embraced you in a hug, pecking your cheeks.

The man to his left said your name in greeting, holding a hand to you, “I’ve heard a lot about you dear. You’ve just come back from Paris, is that correct?”

It was rare to see him at a function, usually the higher the authority in the Mafia meant it would be too dangerous to be seen in public. Although, due to the party being for his son, you guessed he made an exception.

“Correct.” you chose to keep your answers short, you knew your place.

As old-fashioned as it was, the women of the Mafia were treated as property; you were either a trophy wife or a trophy wife in the making.

“Business or pleasure?” he asked with a snide grin, sending chills up your spine.

“Business, I was studying abroad.”

“How interesting.” all his words were slimy, the words slipping from his tongue with a certain element of venom, regardless of how mundane the conversation was. “My son has also been travelling, I’m sure he’d be delighted to meet you.”

He didn’t give you chance to respond before you saw him turn to something, beckoning them over with his hand.

And low and fucking behold. You saw who starts to walk towards him. The guy from earlier — no, the asshole from earlier.

“This is my son, Loki.”