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mypoisonedvine · 3 years ago

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𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗨𝗞𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 || dark!jan (the edukators/die fetten Jahre sind vorbei) x reader

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 | in scoping out his next target, jan hadn't realised that you wouldn't be joining your family on their next vacation; in choosing to stay home, you hadn't realised what you were in for.

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 | 4.3k

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 | smut (noncon, with fingering and penetrative sex), innocence kink, virginity loss/first time, brief exhibitionism, degradation, daddy kink, spitting (in mouth and on pussy), breaking and entering/home invasion, touch of misogyny kink, slight objectification kink (petnames like babydoll/dolly being 99% of this), slight bleeding (from sex specifically), death mention (no threats, just the fear of threats if that makes sense?)

𝗔/𝗡 | you don't need to have seen the movie to understand this fic, as long as you know that jan and his friends break into rich people's houses as part of their anti-capitalist rebellion. note that the vast majority of dialogue is written in english for simplicity, but that these conversations would actually take place fully in german.

this is a DARK fic, if you hit 'keep reading' I don't wanna hear you upset about content listed clearly in the warnings section

It’s probably normal to hear a bump in the night, to wake up and be a little freaked out, but to ultimately just stay in bed and not do anything about it. At first you were sure you were sure it was nothing, though your gut told you otherwise; then, as you heard more and more you spent quite some time convincing yourself that it was just pipes creaking or the foundation settling. But the thing about pipes and foundations is they don’t speak German.

“Hier entlang, hier entlang,” someone whispered, and footsteps shifted all along the lower floor.

Maybe you were still asleep, and this was just a strange dream, a terrifying dream. You pulled the blanket up over your head and prayed to wake up, but the denial turned to terror when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

You jumped out of bed, but it was too late to go out your bedroom door— you could hear them walking and whispering outside. Your bathroom had a small window, but even if you managed to fit through it you’d be on the second story with no way to ropel down. Maybe in your mind you could be some daring adventurer with the perfect plan to escape, or with the skills to defend yourself with something random you could grab, but you knew better than to really think you could do anything but hide.

As the footsteps and voices got louder, your eyes frantically searched the room and finally landed on the large upright dresser— maybe it was a little obvious, but it had a handy little feature that made it lock from the inside. It had come in handy for a decade of hide-and-seek, and now it would hopefully serve you one last time.

With not a second to spare, you ran over and grabbed the golden handles, swinging the doors open but being careful to shut them quietly after you’d stepped inside and made room for yourself among the coats and dresses. You searched for the lock in the pitch darkness, only able to find it because it was right above the keyhole that glowed from the dim light outside. Just as you turned the knob and heard the metal lock slide inside the wooden door, you heard your bedroom door open.

Someone walked around your room briefly, you even heard them pick something up and set it down— probably your bedside lamp, based on where it was coming from, but you obviously couldn’t be sure and frankly didn’t care that much. Footsteps approached the dresser and you saw the keyhole light up as a flashlight passed over it.

“Let’s take all the clothes and put them in the fireplace,” a voice in the room announced. “We won’t actually light the fireplace, but it sends a message.”

You covered your mouth with your hand to try to keep quiet when the doors shook briefly from an attempt to open them.

“Fuck, it’s locked.”

“Here, you go on to the next room, I’ll pick it,” a second voice decided, and you heard more footsteps as someone else approached the armoire. “Look how fancy the dresser is, they’ve probably got furs in here too— god knows people living in a house like this can’t miss an opportunity to destroy the environment.”

You heard something jiggle inside the keyhole, a clicking noise that went on for just a few moments before you heard the metal slide inside the wood again and the doors slowly opened.

A man, dressed in black and holding a flashlight in his gloved hands, stared at you from behind a mask that left only his brown eyes visible. You both stood still, staring at each other, until he did exactly the last thing you expected: he lifted the mask up to his forehead and showed you his face.

He was a lot younger than you would’ve expected, though he had the scruffy beard of a guy trying to look older; his teeth were slightly crooked when he smiled at you, and when he raised a brow while he gave you a quick look-over, you noticed the way they almost connected in the middle.

Under his gaze, you suddenly felt very aware of how little your lacy, baby pink nightgown protected you from the chilling night air.

"Well, what's this?" he asked coyly as he watched you shiver. "Guess these capitalist pigs left one of their little piglets behind." He put on a cooing sort of voice as he addressed you directly: "Did mummy and daddy leave you all alone while they went on holiday?"

He stepped closer even as you tried to shrink away, examining you carefully.

“Get out of there, silly, what are you hiding for? I’m not gonna hurt you,” he assured, not that you found it especially comforting. When you didn’t step out of your own accord, he grabbed your arm and roughly yanked you forward; he slammed the dresser doors behind you, and you whimpered in fear as he pinned you down against them by each arm. "Shh, hey, don't worry— I'm here to take care of you, you can call me daddy instead until your heartless banker father gets back. Go ahead, tell me what's wrong."

"I—"

"Ah ah," he tutted with a mix of bemusement and disappointment, "I already told you how to address me."

You shuddered but finally responded, "Daddy, I'm scared."

He gave you a demeaning little pout, but you continued.

"Some men broke in and I'm alone and… and I don't know if they want to hurt me."

"No, baby, they don't want to hurt you," he promised with a gentle smile, but it turned horrifically sinister as he leaned in to add with a whisper: "but we will if we have to."

You swallowed thickly, your gut twisting when you felt him breathe out against your neck.

"So you're gonna be a good girl, right?"

You nodded quickly, turning away when he leaned in closer, looking down at you with darkened eyes and running the fingers of his black gloves over the neckline of your pyjamas.

“You were just waiting for me, huh? All tucked in in your cute little nightgown, dressed up like a doll,” he grinned. “I bet you want daddy to play with you, hm?”

He laughed cruelly when you shook your head, fighting harder to get away again as he squeezed your arms tight enough to leave marks where his fingers had been.

“Wanna play, little dolly?” he continued, pressing his body into yours and roughly shoving his leg between your thighs. “I know you do… c'mon and give me a kiss," he requested.

“N-no,” you stammered, but he grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand and forced you to look ahead, slamming his lips onto yours and ignoring your muffled protests. When he pinched your side you gasped instinctively, and he shoved his tongue inside your mouth roughly— but that only lasted for a moment, before you found renewed strength and managed to shove him back. It wasn’t far enough to free yourself, but enough to get a break from the oppressive kiss.

“Aw, don’t be mean,” he pouted, wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. “You said you’d be good for me, remember?”

“Just stop, please,” you whined, gasping before you could stop yourself when he rubbed his thigh up against you— hitting right on your clit which throbbed in spite of everything. Somehow the fear made you more sensitive, or at least something had because you’d never felt quite like this before.

“See? You’re all worked up,” he explained, “I’m gonna help you.”

This time when he leaned in he started to kiss and suck at your neck instead, starting right beneath your ear and moving down slowly until his tongue laved over the crook where your shoulder began. As much as you hated it, it made arousal pulse between your legs where his thigh continued to push hard on you.

When he moved even closer, you could feel his erection against your hip; you didn’t even realise that you’d let out a gasp until you felt him smile against your neck. “Oh, babydoll… you want daddy’s cock inside you, I can tell.”

“N-no, I don’t— just stop,” you begged.

“If only it were so easy, to just ask someone to stop,” he mused. “You know how many times we asked people like your father to stop before they fucked us? You know how far that gets us? You don’t just get to ask nicely, you have to fight for it…”

He chuckled as you writhed in his embrace.

“But you’re too weak to fight, poor thing.”

"Please, I'm not a part of whatever you’re talking about,” you tried to explain, “I don't know much about what Papa does at work—"

"That's your problem, baby, you're blissfully ignorant! Not all of us have that luxury. But the good news is, I'm here to educate you." He pushed up even closer to you, speaking lowly right into your ear with rage starting to bubble up in his voice. "Your father is a piece of scum who feeds on the working class and then robs them blind. You live like this, unquestioningly, and the rest of Germany suffers. Stuck-up bitch like you wouldn't even notice me if you saw me on the street, would you? Wouldn't even give me the time of day, but now you're at my mercy. That’s what you people need to learn: that you’re not gonna be on top forever.”

Suddenly you felt his hand cup your sex through your nightgown, and you choked on your gasp. “No—!” you started to shout, but his right hand covered your mouth as the left hastily pulled your pyjamas up and reached under them.

“Stop fucking squirming,” he grunted as he reached between your kicking legs and slid quickly up your thigh. “Mm, bet you’re hiding a pretty little cunt under this nightgown— hold still, baby, you’re gonna like this.”

Finally maneuvring his way into your panties, he abruptly shoved two gloved fingers inside of you, watching closely as you scrunched your face up tight in discomfort. He thrusted and twisted them around for a bit, carelessly stretching you open as you tried desperately to squirm away; it stung a bit, and the leather of the gloves was cool and awkwardly firm against your walls. For some reason, when he dropped his free hand from your face, you didn’t try to scream again— maybe because you knew no one who cared could hear you— and you just panted heavily instead.

As quickly as he’d pushed them in he pulled them out, bringing the glove up to his mouth to take it off with his teeth with a little growl before rubbing his bare hand over your pussy again. You whimpered when he slid his fingers inside you again, this time feeling the texture of his skin as he curled the pads of his fingers right against your spot. “Yeah?” he mumbled his taunt around the leather between his teeth before spitting the glove out onto the floor. “Fuck, so warm… you’re so wet already, dolly, has nobody been giving this pussy any attention?”

He stopped moving his fingers inside you to pull out and give your clit a few slaps, licking his lips when you cried out from the sharp sensation.

“Huh?” he reminded you to answer when you never gave a response.

“N-no,” you shook your head, finally, and he smiled like he was proud of himself.

“Yeah? You’re not a virgin, are you?”

You only looked down at the floor, blinking a few times as you focused on the teal carpet, and heard him laugh darkly.

“Oh, dolly, I might break you,” he warned roughly as he pushed your gown up to your waist, ignoring your sobbed pleas for him to stop. “We don’t usually take anything from the people we visit, but if I take your virginity maybe your people will finally get the message.”

“Please— you don’t have to do that,” you stammered, rushing through whatever you could think of to make him change his mind, “I won’t tell anyone you were here. You can have whatever you want, if I call them they can send you money—”

“You aren’t even fucking listening to me, we don’t want your expensive bullshit and we don’t want your dirty fucking money!” he corrected sternly, clutching your sleeves tighter and shaking you slightly with the intensity of his movements. “We just want you to be afraid, because the revolution is coming.”

But you were afraid of something much more imminent than a revolution.

“Get on the fucking bed,” he demanded, though you couldn’t do much else considering he was already roughly tossing you onto it, climbing on top of you and pinning you down when you started to crawl back instinctively. With his legs resting on yours and keeping you (somewhat) still, he only needed one hand to grab your shoulders while the other rushed to open his jeans.

Your eyes got a little wide when you saw his cock— before that, it was almost like some part of you didn’t really think he’d go through with his, but now you could see clearly that he was hard and ready… and big enough to make you question how that thing was even supposed to fit inside you.

He tore through your panties like they were paper; he lifted and spread your legs as he sat between them and, much to your humiliation, just stared down at your pussy for a moment. You’d never felt so exposed and it made you feel worse than ever. “Knew you’d have a pretty cunt,” he announced smugly, “can’t wait to see it all stretched out and covered in my come— I’m gonna ruin you, babydoll.”

You weakly struggled as he held your hips down with one hand and haphazardly stroked his cock a few times with the other, rubbing himself over your opening before pulling his hips back to spit right onto your clit. After spreading the improvised lubrication around with his head for a moment, he pushed down on it with his thumb to line up with your hole and, without any further warning, slid inside in one motion.

You bit down on your lip hard, and even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the sting; it felt like he was ripping you open, not to mention going so deep that you could feel him in your stomach.

He groaned loudly, head falling back for a moment as he started to thrust into you. “Fuck, I can tell you’re a virgin— it must be hurting you, huh?”

But the question was a bit redundant, since tears had already begun to stream down your temples and your fingers were clutching tightly onto the sheets beneath you; if they were any less expensive, they probably would’ve ripped.

“Maybe a little pain will be good for you,” he decided with a smirk, “I think a spoiled brat like you has been spared the rod a few too many times.”

It was definitely more than a ‘little’ pain, and it only seemed to sting more each time he pulled back and pushed in again— he wasn’t going very fast, yet, so that was one thing you could almost be thankful for. That said, he wasn’t very gentle either.

He hastily reached up under your nightgown to grope your breasts, quickly moving from one to the other as he squeezed them just a bit too hard. “You like how daddy plays with your tits, don’t you?” he grunted. “Say, ‘yes daddy.’”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you mumbled awkwardly; maybe being embarrassed to say that was superfluous considering everything else happening right now, but your face got warmer regardless.

A whimper almost caught in your throat when he pinched your hardened nipples, but it broke through when he seemingly-randomly gave a spank to your inner thigh.

He looked down at where your bodies were joined, where he was stretching you out with steady pumps of his cock that filled you to the brim, before reaching up to quickly pull his black sweater off over his head— a t-shirt underneath came off with it as his chest was exposed. He wasn’t unreasonably pale but he clearly wasn’t the type to get a ton of sun, and he had a thin scattering of dirty-blonde hair over some of it. It was sort of embarrassing, now, seeing how thin he was and yet he was still so much stronger than you.

"You're getting so wet, babydoll, look— you're making a mess on these expensive sheets," he grinned. And he wasn't lying; the sting of the stretch had slowly faded, replaced with a friction you actually couldn't help but enjoy. Each time he moved, he seemed to slide right over a spot that made you tighten up your legs so they wouldn't shake.

But, apparently, there was still plenty left that he could do to hurt you.

You cried out, so louder it echoed across the room, when he suddenly thrust into you hard and deep, hitting the very end of you as your body involuntarily jolted— he clapped his hand down over your mouth instantly, muffling your cries to near-silence as he set a punishingly fast pace out of nowhere. You couldn’t turn your head when you heard your bedroom door open, but you could glance to the side and see another burglar appear in the doorway, staring forward at the scene in front of him.

A new sense of shame burned inside you for being seen in such a way; oddly, it came with guilt, too, as if you were doing something wrong yourself, when really it was just something wrong being done to you. The man on top of you didn’t seem to feel much of either, though: he didn’t even slow down.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?" the other man asked his partner, face still hidden but his voice a mixture of bewildered and disgusted. "This isn't how we roll."

"Fuck off, I'm almost done," your attacker scoffed. You tried to use the distraction to fight him again— you swung your arms to try to scratch his face or push him away, but without even hesitating he simply stopped covering your mouth to pin your wrists at either side of your head.

"Is this really what you think the revolution is about?" the man in the door sneered. "Or does that even matter to you when you think you might get some ass? Jesus, I always knew you were a creep but this is…" he trailed off.

"Maybe you should take a turn with her, might fix your attitude," the man on top of you suggested. "She's real tight— trust me, you'll feel better."

"I promise that raping that girl isn't gonna make me feel better, Jan," he frowned.

"Fine, then just go so I can finish and I'll meet you guys in the yard," Jan— apparently that was his name— instructed.

"Don't go," you begged the man in the door, seeing the concern on his face— you could tell he wanted to stop Jan, maybe if you asked him to, he would.

"Shut up, bitch," Jan growled, correcting you with a slap to the face.

The man in the doorway just shook his head and sighed, stepping back into the hall and shutting the door behind him. You cried harder, more sure than ever that Jan was right when he said you were at his mercy; and he didn’t seem to have much.

He fucked you rough and fast, recklessly chasing his own pleasure with no regard for yours. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean that you didn’t feel any pleasure, though… it was building, in fact, sort of like when you touched yourself but so much stronger, and deeper, and threatening to overflow at any moment. “Oh fuck, you’re close,” he noticed with a tilted grin, “you love it so fucking much, huh? Wanna cream on daddy’s cock?”

You shook your head but he slapped you again, spinning your face to the side as he held both your wrists above your head in one hand and gripped your jaw with the other.

“Stop lying,” he growled, “I can feel it, I can feel your cunt getting tighter… you’re gonna come so fucking hard for me, aren’t you, babydoll? God, what a nasty fucking whore you are…”

He held your face to look straight ahead, up at where he hovered above you and bared his teeth in a snarl, before forcing your mouth open and spitting into it. You grimaced and tried even harder to squirm away but he quickly clamped his hand down over your nose and mouth so you couldn’t try to spit it back out again.

“C’mon, swallow it,” he instructed roughly, voice a bit strained from the force it took to hold you down. You could hardly breathe with his hand this way, and when you tilted your head back to try to get away from it, you accidentally swallowed his spit with a disgusted, muffled grunt. “There you go, good girl,” he purred as he watched your throat bob a bit involuntarily, “that’s it, I know you wanna come— say it! Say ‘daddy I wanna come.’”

He let go of your mouth and slapped you again before you even had a chance to hesitate. “D-daddy,” you whined, “I… I—”

“It’s not that fucking hard,” he hissed, “just say it, you dumb fucking slut!”

One more slap was apparently all you needed to just choke it out: “I wanna come, daddy!” you cried, back starting to arch as the pressure of holding back your release became too much to bear.

“Then fucking come,” he demanded, “come for me, baby, right fucking now.”

You tried to hold out just a moment longer, just to spite him, just so you wouldn’t obey him so easily… but it only took one rough thrust right into the end of you to make it all spill over. You came with a sob, shaking and jerking beneath him for a moment before a warmth spread through you; it started right where he filled you and spread everywhere until your mind was all foggy and your fingers started to go numb— or maybe that was just because of him pinning you down at the wrists.

Much to your disgust, you could hear how wet you had become with every stroke inside you, a sickening squelching noise that made him laugh as your face tingled with numbness and burned with shame all at once. “Oh fuck, that’s it,” he praised, “naughty little dolly, making a mess on daddy’s cock with that dirty fucking cunt of yours… I’m gonna cover it in my come, are you ready, baby? Ask daddy to come on your pussy, don’t make me hit you again.”

“Daddy, please,” you mumbled quietly, “come on my pussy…”

“I can’t hear you, babydoll, you need to speak up,” he mocked.

And you were just so exhausted and overwhelmed and his thrusts inside your sensitive walls were starting to get painful again— that was why you really meant it when you sobbed through your begging: “Please, daddy, come on my pussy!”

With one more panted moan he pulled out and only had to give his cock one blur of a stroke before white, warm come began to paint over your sore opening, your swollen clit, your bruised inner thighs. “Fuuucckkk…” he groaned under his breath as he watched himself coat you, and you caught a tinge of pink from your blood on his cock and hand as he slowed down to a stop. "Sheiße," he sighed, letting go of your wrists to sit up and close his eyes for a moment before looking down again at where you were limp and splayed out on your bed beneath him. “See? I’m getting reckless, I really shouldn’t be leaving evidence…”

Even without that, you knew his name and face, but apparently he was focusing on the copious amounts of DNA he’d just left on you.

“I suppose it won’t be a problem, because you’re not going to tell anyone,” he posited, leaning down slightly to hover over you as you swallowed around the rock that had suddenly formed in your throat. “You know how I know you won’t?”

You weakly shook your head, already terrified to imagine what the answer to that question was going to be. Of course, your first assumption was that he was going to kill you, or threaten to do so if you involved the police. He knew where you lived, he could threaten your family, too: the thought made your skin crawl as he leaned down further to whisper right against your ear as you instinctively turned your face away from him.

“Because if you tell someone that I raped you,” he finally continued, “then you’ll also have to tell them that you liked it.”

Speaking right against your ear, it took him no effort at all to stick his tongue out and lick you right on it, making you squeal with fear and disgust.

He quickly hopped off the bed and recollected himself, stuffing his softening and blood-stained cock back into his pants before gathering his discarded clothes from the floor. "Your folks won't be home for two more nights, right? I should come visit you again," he winked when he spared a glance at you. “Now get some rest, baby, you deserve it. Don’t worry, I’ll lock the front door behind me when we leave… wouldn’t want anybody unsavory getting in, now would we?”

#jan (the edukators) x reader #jan x reader #lol that's not broad at all #jan weingartner x reader #thanks chris for that handy name for him #dark!jan weingartner x reader

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homesickhalfling · 2 years ago

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#danny elfman #ahem #sir #do you have a permit for those guns?#seek and destroy my pussy bitch

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thatoneraven · 4 years ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 2: Cunnilingus

Billy Lenz x AFAB!Reader

SMUT

Contains: nonconsensual voyeurism, oral (female receiving)

You groaned at the sound of the phone in the hallway ringing. Rolling onto your side, you glared at the alarm clock. Who the fuck calls at 2 in the morning? You furrow your brows and get up to go answer. As soon as you pick up the phone, a familiar squealing begins on the other side. Of course the Moaner would call at this ungodly hour. Sighing, you tap your foot and whisper to him, not wanting to wake the other sisters. “Dude, it’s 2 in the fucking morning, are you kidding me?” He chuckles, breath hitching in his throat. “I wanna lick it. I wanna stick my tongue in your pretty pink pussy. Feel how tight and wet it is-“ He lets out a groan that trails off into a laugh. You let out an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you considered hanging up and going back to sleep. “Look, I’m tired and not in the mood for your shit. Goodnight.” As you go to hang up, you can hear him babbling about his fat cock. But the strange thing is, the sound echoes. You can hear it from nearby and from the phone. You freeze listening closer. The sound is definitely coming from your room. You gently set the phone down, creeping into your room in the hopes of finding the source. Rustling comes from your closet and shallow breaths can be heard from behind the clothes. Brow twitching in annoyance, you storm over and rip the clothes away, revealing a young man crouched down with a phone. You pause for a second, noting the soft red-brown hair, big green eyes, and freckles. You would think he was cute if he wasn’t hiding in your closet like some panty sniffing gremlin. You point an accusing finger at him and lean over him. “Do you think it’s funny to wake people up in the middle of the night so you can get your rocks off?” He chuckles, eyes going wide as he starts shaking. “Pretty piggy found Billy. Bad piggy cunt!” He snorts and gets up, grabbing you by the wrist and backing you out of the closet. You rip your hand from him, snarling at him. “I’m tired of your shit, Billy.” That only serves to fuel Billy as he laughs and continues to advance on you. His slender twitching hands reach out to run down your stomach, stopping just short of the hemline of your oversized shirt. “Gotta punish piggy. Destroy that pretty piggy cunt with my fat cock.” You glare at him, grabbing a handful of his fluffy hair and forcing him nose to nose with you. “Can you shut up for one fucking second? If you hadn’t called this late, I wouldn’t have found you, dumbass.” He lets out a soft moan and his eyes flutter shut. You pause for a second, staring him down as you process his reaction. Experimentally, you tug his head back, exposing his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs beneath the skin as he swallows and groans. You spare a quick glance down and sure enough- he’s definitely hard. You look back up at him, gears turning in your head. “You know? I think I know a way to shut you up.” Billy hisses and tries to look at you directly. “Suck my fat juicy cock!” You release his hair and sit back on the bed, tossing your shirt off so you’re only in your panties. Billy looks shocked for a second, wide eyes glinting in the moonlight. His tongue swipes over his lips before he scrambles to get to you. “All for me! Pretty piggy bitch. Mine!” He wastes no time in forcing you back and tearing off your underwear. You wince as his nails leave marks down your thighs in his feverish rush to get them off. As soon as they’re on the floor, he grips your thighs tight and spreads them apart, teeth flashing as he hungrily stares at your pussy. Immediately, he dips between your legs to lick a stripe along it, growling as he tastes you. He wastes no time, devouring you like you’re his last meal. His inexperience is clear, but he makes up for it with how eager he is. His tongue is forceful, roughly playing with your bud before dipping into your entrance as far as it can go. You moan into your hand, hips bucking up into his mouth, seeking the pleasure he has to offer. He sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it before popping off to leave a bite on your inner thigh. His frenzied eyes look up at you with wild lust. “So wet and tight, all for Billy.” He giggles and dips back in to ravage you again. You let out a keening whine, digging your fingers into his soft hair. “Fuck, Billy!” He hums against you, making you clench with the vibrations. The way he eats you is sloppy, all frantic tongue and lip. When he pulls away, you can see the saliva and slick running down his chin. Your eyes flutter shut and you unabashedly moan as he continues to fuck your hole with his tongue. You didn’t have the mental capacity right now to be embarrassed by the wet slurping and sucking that emanated from between your legs. Tilting your head back, you rolled your hips in time with his tongue, whimpering as it roughly jolted against your clit. You can feel your gut winding tighter and tighter as you get close, falling back on the bed and gripping his hair. “Billy I’m so close, oh god!” He somehow ups the pace, devouring you with no restraint. A whine builds in the back of your throat and dissolves into a shout as your orgasm overtakes you. Your thighs tighten around his head as your body shakes in the throes of ecstasy. Billy continues to lick you through your climax, savoring every last drop of your slick. When you push him away from your oversensitive cunt, he looks like a kicked puppy. The bottom half of his face gleams in the moonlight, lips puffy, red, and wet. You sigh and tug him up to give him a tired kiss, too exhausted to care about the taste of yourself on his lips. You pull back and release your grip on his hair, giving him a sated smile. “That makes up for you waking me up in the middle of the night. I won’t tell the others about you, unless you piss me off again. Now, go back to hiding.” He looks up at you in awe before scrambling back into the closet, seemingly disappearing into the walls. You let out a content sigh, not even bothering to get dressed as you snuggle up in bed. It doesn’t take long for you to drift back to sleep. The last thing you hear before you black out are the sounds of shuffling in the attic and a very familiar groan.

#not sfw #black christmas #billy lenz #smut #slasher smut #Kinktober #Kinktober 2020

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madamlaydebug · 3 years ago

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From my friend Aku A King , thank you!

Let's be clear....

I'm not one of those who "bashes" Cosby...a few years ago...

He came directly to my seat at the Kennedy Center during his one man show...looked me in the eyes...and, I found it quite "special".

But, I did not take it any further than what it was...."theatre". I did not seek an appointment with him, nor did I "sneak" info about where he was staying at the local hotel (if not his mother-in-laws home that was not too far from my own home). I knew my "place" that had been ordained by my Ancestors. A woman of wisdom always knows her "place" is never for sale.

No....I enjoyed his performance for what it was. I was alredy fully-employed as any Black woman with multiple-degrees(who had a mind of her own) could expect to be...so I did not go to the performance expecting any more than a "performance". He was delightful...and, I enjoyed the moment of attention for what it was. A moment.

But obviously less "secure" women do not have that luxury of choosing how to manipulate their lives. When you know who you are, and what you represent, no woman goes seeking anything from a married man in his hotel room at midnight (or any time)...or, ignore the fact that a man is away from the sacredness of his marital home...without also recognizing the consequences of her own sovereignty has been "compromised".

I am glad Cosby is "Free". I chastised him for his completely ignorant comments toward Black youth before he got into his "mess". Clearly, he was "smellin himself", and the toxic perfume of celebrity. But, I am assured that the Ancestors had something to do with clearing up that misjudgment....and "Kharma" is a Bitch that he will never want to encounter, again!

But those "Beast" who tried to mutilate a Black man who represented a semblance of MAAT via his many episodes of "The Cosby Show"....y'all get what you get!!!

The African Wisdom that stems from the many episodes of The Cosby Show cannot be denied or ignored. The effort to destroy a man...just like the stoopidity of Sampson when "pussy-whipped" by Delilah...will never destroy the desire of a people who are bound to REMEMBER who they are....and RESTORE who they are becoming!!!

Tick, tick, tick.......

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supernatural-freek · 5 years ago

Text

Love Me, Trust Me, Leave Me To Drown

Dean x Sister!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Synopsis: You stayed, and like the giant space cat thing promised, your memories of before have long since left you. Things are good, things are great, but then Jack shows up like a glitch in the Matrix, and those floodgates open right back up. Soon, the one secret you didn’t know you were keeping might very well destroy everything you have.

NOTE: The long awaited Part Two!

MASTERLIST (PART ONE) (PART 3)

Okay, if anyone ever tells you that Sam can cook, kill them. Literally just stab them right in the fucking face because they are lying to you. Sam can’t cook for shit. You want breakfast made for you? You go right up to Dean and you give him puppy dog eyes and he will make you a feast.

“It tastes great,” you told him with a strained smile, desperately trying not to throw up whatever the fuck you just ate. Same called it porridge, but God damn, it didn’t taste like it. It tasted like a dog pissed on cardboard and then you burned a fucking Wendigo on it and then you ate it.

Holy shit, you were never going to look at porridge the same ever again.

Sam’s sweet little smile made you feel a little better, but it wasn’t enough to make you swallow down another mouthful of-of-

You shuddered. It didn’t need to be thought about.

“I’ll make it every morning,” Sam decided, watching you earnestly. You narrowed your eyes. He played the doting brother really well, but he was just a demon in disguise. A demon whose torture speciality was really fucking bad food.

If this was what was waiting for you in Hell, you were going to cry. And then find a way to live forever. Perhaps they’d let you off the rack if you just agreed to whatever they wanted straight away?

Sam was still waiting for an answer though, and your smile withered to a grimace. “Sure bro,” you answered heavily, resigning yourself to your fate. You’d just get Dean to smuggle you burgers from the outside world. He loved you enough for that.

You brightened. Dean. Your other brother would save you. Dean would do anything for you. He always had, even when John didn’t approve. You’d always adored him for that.

Grinning brightly, you shoved the bowl back at Sam and got to your feet. “Thanks for the food, Sam! I’m gonna go find Dean!”

You bounced away before Sam could say anything. You were weak for your brothers - anything they asked you to do you would do. Even if it meant pretending to like rat poison.

Yuck, the aftertaste that lingered in your mouth was even worse how was that possible-

“Dean!” You cheered, bursting into his room without any sort of warning. Thank God he wasn’t naked and masturbating to the bad pornos he loved so dearly. Thank God it wasn’t him fucking someone. That would be awkward on all fronts.

Pfft. ‘Fronts’.

Anyway.

Like the actual drama queen that he was, Dean had thrown himself off the bed when you’d kicked his door open, and so he was laying on the floor, blinking up at you in a daze. “Y/N.”

You sprawled out across his bed, burying your face in his pillow. Ew. It was kind of sweaty. “Clean your shit,” you mumbled.

Something poked your ribs. “What?”

You raised your head up to stare over the edge at him. “Sam is trying to kill me with his cooking and I need you to smuggle me actually edible food so I don’t die a premature death.”

Dean snorted, getting to his feet and simply laying over the top of you. You grunted in protest as his weight pushed you into the soft covers. Fuck. He was a heavy son of a bitch. “What will I do?” Dean pondered.

“Get off me for one. Christ, what do you eat?”

Dean huffed some sort of offended noise. “That’s rude. Do you want my help or not?”

You instantly let go of the weight thing. “Yes.”

Satisfied, Dean rolled off of you and instead laid down next to you. It was like being at a sleepover. Except it was your brother. Your brother who was literally just a grown child with stupidly adorable freckles. This man was precious.

“Let me tell you a secret,” he whispered, just like a high school girl.

You rolled your eyes but indulged him anyway. “What?”

“Sam knows he can’t cook for shit. He just likes to fuck with you.”

You shot up, mouth hanging open. Fucking what?!

Oh, Sam better watch his fucking back. Cause you were gonna be standing behind him with a fucking knife that traitorous little bitch.

You barely heard Dean’s protests as you vaulted off the bed and sprinted down the hallway, intent on finding Sam and shaving his entire fucking head. You couldn’t believe he’d made you eat that disgusting pile of dogshit and hadn’t said anything.

What had you done to earn this betrayal? Dean was the one who was always being a dick and playing pranks, and instead, Sam had turned on you? You were just his sweet, innocent little sister! What the fuck!

“Samuel!” You roared, voice echoing and doubling.

“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice answered you, and you faltered in your rampage, immediately seeking out the owner of the tentative greeting. You found him easily, tucked away around a corner and peering at you with large eyes.

“The fuck are you?” You asked gruffly, coming to a stop. He was young, whoever it was that had appeared in the bunker. Vaguely familiar too, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out where you knew him from. "How'd you get in here?"

The boy frowned, looking adorably confused and concerned. "It's me," he answered nervously. "Its Jack."

Jack. Yes, you remembered him now. Memories appeared like fog in the morning, cementing in your mind as if they’d never been gone in the first place. Of course you remembered Jack. The son of Lucifer, but also the son of Kelly.

A wide smile broke out across your face. “Jack!” You greeted eagerly, immediately reaching for his hand and tugging. You’d always been so easy with tactile actions - Dean hadn’t spoken to you for almost two weeks after you’d given Jack a tight hug and an affectionate pat on his cheek.

Jack followed without much protest, but there was still a hesitance in his movements, as if he’d noticed that something wasn’t quite right in this situation. You couldn’t for the life of you think why. You and Jack had always been close. It was like Dean and Cas.

You were friends.

“Samuel!” You roared, upon entering the kitchen and finding your brother eating a nice fresh salad. “You have some explaining to do!”

Sam looked up, brow furrowing in mock innocence. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” he answered. His eyes flicked to Jack, behind you, and something about him visibly softened. He’d always loved Jack like he’d love a son.

You scowled at him. “Whatever the fuck you made me eat before - you know that it’s worse than shit.”

“You said you loved it.”

“Because you’re a pussy, Sam, and I’d hate to hurt your feelings.”

Sam’s mirth fell away. “Watch your language,” he warned. “Dean’ll have your head.”

You scoffed, twirling away from Jack to grab a bottle of Coke from the fridge. “Dean can kiss my as-”

“Finish that sentence, sis, and I’m going to lock you in your room for a week.” Dean’s voice was gruff, but teasing, and you grinned as you took a swig from the bottle of soft drink.

You threw him a cheeky grin. “Just means I get to sleep for ages.”

Dean returned your smile, and then sat next to Sam, screwing his face up at the healthy food. You hid your snort in another drink of Coke. God, both your brother were such wussies about certain things.

Jack, who’d simply watched the interactions up until this certain point, spoke up, his voice soft but forceful. “Y/N, who gave you those memories?”

Time seemed to come to a complete standstill.

What the fuck, Jack?

You had no idea what he was talking about - absolutely none, you swore it. All of your memories were real, you’d lived these things. You knew Jack and you knew Cas and you knew Dean and you knew Sam.

(Deep down, you knew something was wrong with them. You’re memories were shiny, as though someone had tampered with them. No. No. They were real.)

“Jack.” Dean’s voice brooked no room for argument. He needed an explanation. You all needed an explanation.

Jack’s wide eyes flitted over to you, something like unease passing over his face. “Her memories,” he said, suddenly unsure. “They aren’t real. They’ve been implanted. It’s why she didn’t know me until I introduced myself.”

Your mind went very, very, very very very very far away from your body for a very long pause. No. No, you remembered Jack. Of course you remembered Jack! You’d taught him to play tag, running around the bunker in a frenzy, loud laughter bouncing off the walls. You’d-You’d introduced him to ice cream and-and-

It was real. It had to be.

“So where did I come from?” Your voice doubled and echoed as your body swirled around the room. You were still sat in that fucking chair of course, but your body was swirling anyway. “Who am I? Am I a Winchester?”

Nobody said anything for too many heartbeats.

Right.

Of course.

Of-fucking-course.

Dean’s voice was steely and yet still wounded when he said, “We’ll get Cas. We’ll figure this out.” He pushed away from the table and stood up, his green eyes hooded and his face shadowed. “I need some air.”

You reached for him. “Dean-”

He winced away, hurrying off with almost-silent footsteps. You looked to Sam, eyes wide and pleading. He didn’t look up from the table, fork limp in his hands.

You looked to Jack, who just looked back with bottomless eyes that made you fall and fall and fall.

#supernatural #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural angst #sad supernatural imagines #sad supernatural one shots #supernatural one shot #supernatural sister #sister!winchester #dean x sister!reader #sam x sister!reader #supernatural-freek

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 5 years ago

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Can we talk about Carol and Steve punishing their sub? Because I love both my captains 😭

(Goodness! Sorry this took so long!)

Anyway. Let’s talk about this! Bc I feel like the styles are SO SO SO SO SO so fucking different.

Carol likes to punish you. She likes to grab you by the jaw when you’re talking back, she likes to pull your hair after you roll your eyes at her, she likes to grab you and pin you to the wall when you try to walk away from her. And she loves spanking you, edging you, and just not letting you come at all. Because she really likes when you’re whimpering and crying bc you need an orgasm while you’re laid out on top of her, head on her chest while she runs her fingers through your hair. And she really loves making you eat her out. For hours. She lets you on the bed so you’re comfortable but she really likes to ignore you while your mouth is between her legs. She’ll answer texts, sometimes calls. She’ll browse Netflix, sometimes even start a new show. She’ll read a book, a newspaper. And then you feel like you have something to prove—which is probably her goal.

Steve is soft. He doesn’t necessarily like it. He definitely doesn’t hate it, but he prefers to spoil you, not punish you. But when he knows he must, he will. Unlike Carol, he only ever punishes you on the bed. You’re not sure why, he’s just very strict about it. He won’t make you stand or bend you over a table, and it is NEVER in public—though, he does enjoy when Carol punishes you in a semi-public way. So, this bitch is a talker. Why am I punishing you? What lesson am I trying to teach you? Are you going to do it again? You always say no and he doesn’t communicate any disbelief even though you’re sure it’s there. Don’t you prefer being my good girl? And you claim yes, again, he accepts the answer. His preferred method is definitely spanking. Carol enjoys that from time to time, but’s definitely a Steve Punishment™️. He will have you count. Sometimes, he runs his fingers through your pussy and if you’re too wet, he makes you wait until you’re not. He loves how you end up absolutely needy and shaking, begging him to touch you—you don’t care how, you just need his hands on your body.

Where they have a common interest is overstimulation. Carol has tied you to the bed and left a vibrator on your clit for two hours before. You were a babbling, crying mess at the end, but the look of absolute adoration on her face and the way she held you afterward made up for most of it. She has you go to parties, meetings, other social events with too many people, where she has a smaller vibrator in your pussy and the means to control it with a handy app on her phone. Steve makes you sit on his face and won’t let you off until he is done. Super soldier. He’s never done. His favorite thing to do is make you talk. He has his hands on your hips and he lifts you just barely, starts using one hand’s fingers to press down on your clit or tease your entrance, and then says things like are you sorry for misbehaving? What do you think your punishment should be? Tell me how much you love me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel right now. You’re mostly incoherent, but he seems satiated by your responses most of the time.

The reasons for punishment are also so different. Most of the time. Carol reacts quickly so you talk back, you roll your eyes, you blatantly ignore her “advice”—see: orders—sometimes. She doesn’t do the talking like Steve. You know why she’s punishing you, she knows you know, and you both damn well know you’ll do it again whenever you please. With Steve, any of that behavior just gets you his disappointed eyebrows and then much later, you’re on the bed talking about it, waiting for him to pull you over his knee. You have never voiced it but you think he gets off on your nerves about it. He likes making you wait, keeping you guessing when, how many, how hard, will he fuck you after? Control. Freak. More often than not, Steve punishes you for “challenging” him in front of the team. You can’t do that, so he claims, because then everyone else will and then it’s not a team—you could recite this lecture in your sleep, you’ve gotten it enough.

These are the light punishments. Like that time you snuck out to a club with Wanda and then returned home with a black eye because long story short, some drunk loser got too handsy with Wanda and you started a fight with him and his friends. Or that time you consented to being bait for a mission and had to act without backup when the team couldn’t get there fast enough, no fault of their own; they just weren’t able to be close enough without being obvious. Or the time you had a drinking contest with Tony and won—which he argues about even though he called Pepper at 3 in the morning and begged her to take him back...they weren’t separated—and fell coming up the apartment stairs and sprained your wrist and bruised both shins. Neither Carol nor Steve were big drinkers and they constantly implored you to be responsible if you needed to do it. Or the time you helped Shuri, Peter, and Valkyrie prank the whole team. You weren’t allowed to retell the stories about Steve and Carol. Maybe it started with a p and ended in —regnancy. Regardless, the three of you decided to swap Thor’s cape out for a pink toned one that looked very much like the lesbian flag, which was totally not intentional... Tony was furious that the media reported Thor being the first avenger to make a political statement regarding sexuality. He was seriously planning a rainbow suit, and the rest of the team was no better, madness that Steve had to put an end to that he blamed you for completely.

But there are other, more serious times. Like when you make decisions during a mission that they are not on board with. And it doesn’t go as well as you would have hoped. Or that time, against Steve’s wishes, you were hanging out with a specific fantastic member of a certain team and there were paparazzi pictures the following day of when the tool kissed you out of nowhere—he swears he didn’t know you were with Steve and Carol, no one really believes him. Or when Carol told you not to go on that road trip with Nat and Bucky because, per Carol, despite them being master assassins, they had few people skills, absolutely no driving skills, and all three of you liked egging each other on way too much. Since Steve had been out of town, you were easily able to sneak out when Carol went to the gym. You guys were attacked, car destroyed, ended up hitch hiking to Montana, and had to call Steve and Carol to come get you.

When Carol is serious about punishment, it’s the craziest thing. She’s just at a complete loss. She’s not sure what to say or what to do, she is truly appalled and frustrated. This is when she leans on Steve a little—she sees him as the epitome of control and thinks he can offer it when she is feeling so out of control. All three of you end up on the bed, he sits against the headboard and holds you while Carol is sitting at the foot of the bed. Sometimes, she has you on your stomach, forearms locked tightly in Steve’s hands. This is when she spanks you. Sometimes, she has you on your back, Steve’s arms wrapped around your waist, and this is when she edges you until she’s satisfied. This is also when she talks. She wants you to show regret for upsetting her. She wants apologies and promises that it’s not going to happen again. But see, it’s not the same as when Steve talks bc Carol is going to do exactly what she wants and it doesn’t matter whether you tell her what she wants to hear or not. So, sometimes, you refuse to apologize, especially if it was a decision you stand by. These scenarios always end in a sort of compromise. It’s definitely not a win for either one of you and she’s okay with that. If anything, this is just to let you know that you scared her and if you would not scare her again, that would be great. Still, she has to send a message. You’re the only one naked, the only one vulnerable. Essentially, you’re the only one in the room without power and she likes to remind you in any way she can.

Steve. This is where things take a serious turn. He gags you. Because he doesn’t want to hear apologies, excuses, or arguments. Really, it’s almost dehumanizing when he punishes you this way, like you’re just an object for him to use however he wants. And it’s not like you can say no. Not that you’ve ever considered it, but there is this dark cloud over the whole room bc you have to wonder if he’ll know if you need him to stop. You hate that it actually gives you this tiny thrill. Carol watches. Steve demands it—but you wonder if it’s this mutual thing that they find in one another, maybe he’s feeling out of control and she’s the brakes then. He tells her what to do, too. He tells her when to undress, when to touch herself. The entire time, he’s fucking you furiously, yet acting like you’re not even there. He always starts you facing away from Carol. When he turns you toward her, you know he’s just about done with you. But when you lock eyes with her, when you know she’s looking at you, it’s harder not to come. You can’t warn Steve when you’re too close, you just have to hope that he’ll stop in time. For your sake alone, you assume—you’re not entirely sure what would happen if you finished without his permission. Not that you would ever tell him, but it scares the hell out of you to imagine. Afterwards, he’ll clean you up and tuck you in next to Carol. He usually goes to the gym to get rid of any remaining anger. You don’t tell him because you know it will make him feel guilty but you don’t fall asleep until he slides into bed and wraps an arm around you. You always take that to mean that he’s no longer mad at you. And every following morning, when he knows you’re awake, his fingers seek out your clit as some form of an apology for losing his temper with you.

#steve rogers x reader #carol danvers x reader #steve rogers x reader x carol danvers #carol danvers x reader x steve rogers #smutask #carolsmut #stevesmut #my writing

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jaces-senseless-fuckery · 5 years ago

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After Aulin's brutal teasing and edging at the Halloween party leaving her incredibly pissed off and incredibly pent up, Clara's connection with the Grimm brought her just what she needed; an enhanced Minotaur with more than enough cock to use her body like a sleeve and relieve her of any stress. A fitting treat for Aulin's nasty trick.

How did she fail!?

That question had plagued Clara's mind for hours after she had tried and failed to have her way with a victim. That bitch absolutely dominated her! She didn't even know how it happened and that was the most frustrating part! It was a Halloween party so she thought the woman would be easy prey, but nope. Clara was so angry, and even more than that she was extremely pent up because her "victim" hadn't even let her cum once, and only teased and edged her all night. There was only one thing she knew to do, and at least she knew that this would help her finally get off and help her calm down.

"Damn you, Sylvana..." Clara muttered before she arrived deep into the Emerald Forest on Halloween night.

With Clara's connection to the Grimm thanks to her mistress, it didn't take long for one of the creatures to seek her out. And that Grimm was one of the large Minotaurs, pushing tree branches and leaves aside to walk up to her. Clara took a deep breath and without hesitation, she placed her hand on the Minotaur's stomach. Using her magic, she sent energy through the Grimm's body from his stomach and began to enhance him in every aspect from his strength to his size, making him grow in height and muscle mass by at least a couple of inches. After that, Clara looked up at his face and sent out a mental command, and when the Minotaur registered it, Clara felt his cock become unsheathed and slide down her body as it grew to its full length.

Before Clara knew it, the Minotaur grabbed her around the stomach and lifted her up as his cock became fully erect. With how wet the Grimm succubus was from that damned ship captain not letting her cum, she had just commanded her minion to go wild with her and he started by shoving her down as far as she could onto his cock, hishuge slab of meat spearing into her cunt and slamming into her cervix. Clara let out a scream of pure ecstasy as the Minotaur buried his cock deep inside her, and then he held her there as he started to thrust wildly into her. The bulge in her abdomen was so large that Clara could clearly see it, and seeing it turned her on so much fucking more than what she already was.

The Minotaur's cock felt so absolutely amazing and it was just what she needed. His cock spread her inner walls open so much and it was bringing her so wonderful pleasure and she already felt like she was about to cum, and that's exactly what she did and her pussy clenched down around the huge cock inside it, making it tighter for it. The Minotaur thrusted harder into her and pulled her down at the same time and broke past her cervix, making Clara scream and moan even louder than before as he began to fuck her even harder than he was before now that he was fitting more of its cock inside her.

He snorted loudly with each thrust before Clara started to cum again, even harder this time and she threw her head back and let out another pleasured scream into the night. An hour already just flew by as the large Grimm pleased his mistress how she wanted it, making her cum far more than she was used to normally. With how that Aulin woman left her, it didn't come as a surprise with how many orgasms she was having thanks to the Minotaur's monstrous shaft destroying her cunt. Before long he pulled her off of his cock to thrust in even harder, but the tip went lower and plunged straight into the succubus' tight asshole, going balls deep inside her with his balls slamming against her ass.

Clara let out an even louder scream before the Minotaur started to fuck her ass wildly, making her body his cocksleeve. She felt his cock pushing so far into her body that it made her actually begin to lose herself to the sheer ecstasy her minion gave her. She needed this so fucking much and she was getting that and more with this Minotaur that had found her. The way his cock completely buried itself in her ass, making its home so deep inside her felt just wondrous. She could even feel the tip just teasing her throat at every apex of thrusts and it sent her over the edge into another intense orgasm, and this time her cunt clamped down over nothing.

The Minotaur squeezed Clara's body tight in his huge hands, squeezing her body around its cock more and continued to use her as his living fleshlight, moving his hips increasingly harder and faster the closer he got to his climax. His huge, heavy balls slapped against Clara's ass at every second, just filled to the brim with hot, thick cum waiting to be dumped into the Minotaur's mistress. Clara's mouth gaped open with all her screams and moans and she just let her arms fall from where she held them over the Minotaur's hands. She just let her body go limp in his grasp, more than happy to shut her body off so to speak.

Soon, finally, the Minotaur started to unleash his load into Clara, hilting his cock as deep as it could go. His heavy cum didn't even touch her stomach yet, it immediately built up in her throat and Clara just let it burst out from her mouth and cover her face before falling to the ground under her. The musky scent of the Minotaur's seed filled her nostrils as it flooded into her nose, and he continued to cum and pump more of it out of her throat and her mouth before he pulled her off of his cock enough to start to actually fill her gut up. Very quickly, her stomach expanded to the size of a small ball and swelled a bit more, pushing more cum through her body to leak out her mouth and cover her face in warmth, dripping off her horns and her forehead.

The Minotaur's spunk stopped flowing a few moments later and he slowly pulled Clara off his cock, leaving cum to gush out of her gaping asshole and he laid her on the ground. "Mmmhmmhmmhmmm~" Clara moaned loudly into the night and slowly swallowed the cum that was in her mouth, "Y-you were q-quite the welcome change t-to my Halloween~"

#oc #clara #claratrix #minotaur #non sfw #halloween prompts #grimmsmut

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morphituu · 5 years ago

Text

Milagro

Chapter 7: “Déjà Vu”

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Ward had expected to see the blue haired elf upon entering the room, but was only met with Montehugh’s lackluster self, turning to nod at Daryl with a classification folder in hand.

“Where’s Kandomere?”

“Busy,” he slapped the folder onto the table surface, and that was Ward’s cue to shut the door. “Take a look,”

Daryl opened the folder before he was sat, and a small pile of photos slipped out. The CCTV shots were of poor quality, but enough was legible from the blurs shaped like people and light radiating from their extended arms.

“That’s Tikka,” Ward mumbled, pointing with his pinky. If it hadn’t been for the small blob of lighter color on this fuzzy shapes head, she could’ve gone unidentified.

“Correct,” Montehugh announced, pouring himself coffee. “So who’s the other fucker?”

“The fuck should I know?”

“I’m not asking you,” Montehugh sat before him, a hard exhale coming forth. “Now I’m sure you know what’s about to go down,”

“Haven’t seen or heard shit,” Ward shook his head, carefully overlooking all the photos obtained from the destroyed bazaar. There was something off-putting about the opponent she was clearly battling. It’s form was too unfamiliar, something he couldn’t label as elf or human. Though it appeared to be showing it’s face and arms, it was dark, and no hair seemed to adorn it’s head from what he could make out.

“Could this be an Orc?” Daryl asked.

“Not likely,” he sipped his steaming drink.

“But not impossible?”

“Do you know how rare it is for there to be Orc Brights?” Montehugh laughed.

“Cut the shit- could it be an Orc?” Ward demanded, and the heavyset detective sighed.

“The chances are stacked against that assumption,”

“Regardless. Maybe bringing this to the table and lookin’ for Brights outside of elves and humans would mean this shit could be taken care of sooner,” the officer rattled out accusingly, a clear jab at their lack of success during the weeks this had dragged on.

“You wanna take that sad excuse of a photo out and start interrogating Orcs on the street? Asking to see their wands? Be my fucking guest if you think it’s so simple,”

“It’d be more than whatever the fuck you two are doing. All you’ve told us is we can’t leave the city and that she’s on the loose, so what the fuck are you guys doing?” Ward was sitting forward, his face twisted with rage.

“We’re keeping you fuckers on a short leash in case you two decide to run off with another wand,” Montehugh spat back just as aggressively. “Where the fuck is your Orc?”

“Fuck you-”

“Where?”

Daryl sat back, crossing his arms. “Not here,”

“Get him here. Starting tomorrow you two are taking a leave of absence,”

“The fuck-”

“Shut the fuck up and let me finish,” The red head interjected, raising his hand. Ward had stood angrily, his chair kicked back, and it took a few seconds of audible fuming to get him to back down, still glaring hatefully.

“If you’d bothered to read the report that’s in front of you you’d know that there were spikes in activity,” he flipped a few pages, shoving the report across the table. “And look what neighborhoods they’re moving through,”

Reluctantly, Ward looked it over, but was poor at masking his alarm. The spikes across the map read like sonar, all the recorded battles and wand activity moving in a steady line across LA, directly towards his neighborhood. He tossed it away from him.

“I need to leave with my family,”

“No. You’re both going to stay put, and stay close to home, and not bitch and whine when you have a few extra guests keeping watch outside of your houses,” Monteugh explained slowly, his voice having come down to a reasonable level.

“How’re a bunch of agents gonna protect my family against a wand?” His voice betrayed him. It shook, his eyes downcast; Ward was scared.

“Bright’s aren’t always renegades,”

Ward looked up, repeating that a few times over in his head. MTF proved itself shiftier with every encounter.

“Call Jakoby. He needs to be briefed.” Montehugh instructed, sitting back in his seat.

Daryl pulled his phone out, finding Nick in his call log before keeping the phone’s edge against his temple. “Is this leave of absence paid?”

“That all you care about?”

“Yeah so does my wife and mortgage,” Ward snapped. Why are you so fucking unpleasant…

The line trilled, but only fell to his voicemail. “Not answering,”

“Call again,” Montehugh ordered.

“Cause that always works…” but he still did so, looking at the detective sarcastically when the call went to voicemail once again.

Over and over he tried, even sending a few heated messages, but nothing came of it despite Montehugh’s insistence. It was shortening Ward’s patience everytime he barked out another demand without even looking up from his own tasks, seemingly unbothered by any of this.

“I’m done, he’s not gonna answer,” the phone was slammed down; that probably broke my screen.

Montehugh turned, stirring another cup. “Then go get him,”

It wasn’t actually having to go seek out Nick, it was the manner in which the overweight detective expected him to, and the way he spoke to him, like Ward was a rookie and didn’t know how things were done. That being said, things weren’t done like this.

Still, with a clenched jaw and fingernails that dug into his palm sharply from the force of his tightened fists, Ward left, slamming the door bitterly behind him as he stomped through the busy halls of the precinct. He blew off conversations and hellos, uncaring of who he bumped into.

Before his eyes was a film, and it displayed countless options that all lead back to dire ends.

Ward wanted to scoop his family up and run far away, but he also just wanted to leave by himself if it meant no harm would befall them. He wanted this to be over just as much as he wanted to go back to that night four years ago and let the call pass onto someone else. What he wouldn’t give to let some other chump carry the blood on his hands and this nightmare that had become his life. He’d give anything to go back and never know he’s a Bright.

↠

She could feel her heart thrumming in her ribs as she looked up at the ceiling, her breath coming forth in harsh pants. A dull quake radiated all over, her arms starting to tremble where she supported herself against his thighs that tensed severely under her grip.

“Nick,” she gasped, looking down at his face lined with rapt attention.

“Almost,” he puffed, his hold on her hips brutal.

She glanced behind herself. “You didn’t pause th- ah! You didn’t pause the show!”

“We’ll go back,” he grunted. “Wasn’t that interesting anyways,”

Callie gasped, and he looked up to smile at her purely shocked face. “You said you liked it so far!”

Nick’s thrusting stopped, his mien amiss. “There’s so much talking,” he admitted, his eyes rolling slowly.

“Cause it’s about profiling murderers,”

“They could add in some shootouts or the actual murders or something,”

“You need to get over that CSI is over, chato,” she shook her head, holding his shoulders.

“It was the best-”

“And now it’s over so we’re gonna go back and rewatch this,” she pointed back to the TV. “And you’re not gonna compare them,”

Nick chuffed loudly at her, but she only punched his chest, bracing herself when he scooted down the cushion to continue where he’d left off. A few pumps in, and her head rolled back, his merciless grip returning to her waist.

“It’s so good,” he exhaled, intensifying his momentum. Callie cried out, back arching as he 'punished her pussy'. Pffft, that could get her going again. She’d long since stopped bouncing as dutifully, but her extra weight or stomach didn’t hinder his effectiveness in this position anyway, and adding his heat cycle that had just kicked in a day ago meant there’d be nothing stopping him until he climaxed.

But she was getting sore, as well as her back which already was from a morning of waddling around the house.

“Baby-”

“I’m almost there,” he snarled, his hips snapping upward harshly. She hissed, her face scrunching, but let her head drop back as she moved to hang off his shoulder. He was growling, and she suspected he was also eyeing the next spot he wanted to dig his teeth into. Since that first bite that scarred her breast, he’d taken cautionary nibbles across her body, calculating where he wanted to leave his next mark, and it both excited and terrified her.

Turn-ons aside, it hurt like a bitch.

“Nick I’m tired,” she exhaled, the little energy left in her draining rapidly. “We’re supposed to be Netflix and chilling,”

Nick laughed out then, face in a tight snarl- but also a smile?- as he looked up at her. “That’s exactly what we’re doing,”

Callie rolled her eyes, figuring if she wanted this over with, she’d better put her back into it, or get back into it. With her hands clasped behind his neck, she squatted onto her feet, snapping her hips forcefully. He keened loudly, head suddenly pressing back into the cushions and his thrusts shortening as she took over. “I’m gonna cum-”

The front door swung open, startling Pucca in their room to come running and barking.

“Ni- holy fuck,” Ward bellowed, spinning quickly with a hand sheilding his eyes.

Callie shrieked, her arms crossed over her breasts and falling into Nick’s chest as he carefully pushed her aside and off his lap before spinning in his seat.

“Daryl what the fuck!” Nick hollered, watching him try and push a jumping Pucca down, keeping his eyes covered.

“Fuck I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but you gotta com- you gotta go, we gotta go,” Ward stumbled, already moving out of the house in embarassment. “My bad, Callie,”

The door closed, and Nick understood then. He groaned. Another fucking briefing?

He looked at Callie who was pressed deep into the cushions, a hand over her mouth, and still spread enough to see where he’d once been before.

“Sounds like you need to go,” she cracked, and his brows flattened.

“I didn’t get to finish,”

“Good thing you did three times last night,” she smiled before sitting up to give him a quick kiss, then struggling to stand until Nick offered a hand. She mindfully stepped around him, giggling when his arms circled her thighs to nip playfully at her bare hip. With shaking legs she scooted to the bathroom, leaving him pent up and irritable… and still hard.

Nick exhaled harshly, flinging himself back into the couch. He waited a minute, but the hard-on wasn’t going anywhere. Upon snatching his phone from the ground, he noted the calls from Ward he’d ignored while pounding Callie into oblivion, and instead scrolled until he found his favorite video of them. With a shimmy of his shoulders against the cushions, he took matters into his own hand.

“Don’t forget to call me when you’re done,” Nick kissed into her cheek, grabbing the lunch she handed off.

“I know. Be safe- I love you,” Callie giggled and grunted in his tight embrace, smacking his back when a hand started to venture downwards. “Get outta here,”

“Yeah yeah,” he cracked, one last rub across her stomach before slipping on his Clubmasters and leaving, still quite unsatisfied. There was a lingering heat set in his skin despite the particularly cool day, and it made him all the more irritable. Now having to go in and deal with MTF- ugh.

Ward didn’t look at him once Nick climbed into the cruiser bitterly, but the Orc didn’t budge until his partner finally glanced over, meeting his irritated scowl.

“I’m sorry-”

“Ever heard of knocking?” Nick barked, and Daryl’s hands raised in guilt.

“You didn’t answer my calls,” Ward defended, but Nick only had another sarcastic glare.

“Now you know why,” he grumbled, sitting back in the passenger seat. “What does Kandomere want now?”

“I’ll let them be the ones to spill the beans.” Ward mumbled, pulling out onto the street.

He looked over suspiciously, but didn’t have the patience to question him further. Any little he had left needed to be saved for an encounter with their favorite agent.

↠

“Leave of absence my ass,” Nick cursed under his breath, folding the papers given to them in angry jerks as they left the briefing room that Montehugh still occupied, just as put-off by the officers as they were of him. “They have witness protection program and hideouts for politicians but they can’t be bothered to let us out of the fucking city ourselves?”

“At least it’s paid, brother,” Ward tried, but he was just as irked.

“Callie isn’t gonna buy accumulated vacation hours as an excuse if we end up sitting around for weeks,”

“Neither will Sher,”

The two both sighed, already exhausted and heading for the lockers.

Truly, the two wished they could look forward to this unknown amount of time they got to spend at home, but keeping a cautious eye out for angry Brights, extra surveillance around their homes and keeping it from their girls was a few things that were too much to be contemplated with ease.

Sergey was already there, smoothing down the velcro flaps of his vest against his ribs when he spotted the disgruntled officers trudging in.

“Bad day before it’s started?” the rookie asked, and Nick only grumbled, having to re-enter his locker combination a few times in his impatience. A couple whiffs when he had walked by told him everything, and Sergey’s nose scrunched. “That time of the month, ha?”

Nick glanced at the young Orc cheerily looping his belt around himself, but now avoiding his glower.

It hadn’t occurred to Nick that his leave of absence would put him in the hands of another officers patrol, and not many of them had warmed up to his presence yet. It unsettled him further; what if he was stuck with one of the particularly crueler officers? Imagining them trying to frame Sergey for something outlandish wasn’t outlandish itself- it had almost happened to Nick, who says it couldn’t happen to the young one?

“Malinka,” Nick started after pulling his jacket off. “Starting tomorrow I’m going on an extended… vacation, which means you’re gonna be partnered with someone else,”

“Lucky man,” Sergey grinned; clearly he didn’t understand the gravity of Nick’s words yet. “Now I won’t be able to steal pieces of your lunch,”

“Sergey, pay attention,” Nick snapped quietly, stepping over as he buttoned his uniform. Sergey looked up, humor draining from his face. “You know how people here can be. They’re no different from the bastards on the outside, but here they have power. Do everything by the books while I’m gone. Don’t put yourself into a situation they can use against you,”

“That won’t happen,” Sergey tried, but Nick shook his head, silencing him.

“It can happen, though. What have I always told you?”

“Keep my temper even and make sure I go home to Dura,”

“Don’t forget any of that, you hear? They won’t treat you the same without me here,” Nick added, and the young one nodded, his curiosity peaking at the sudden concern coming forth.

“Everything okay old man?”

Nick scoffed, hitting his shoulder as he turned back to his locker. “Just keeping an eye out for you,” he answered without looking, but it wasn’t just that. The thought of something dire happening to Sergey troubled him tremendously. The guilt that would inevitably befall him would surely be crushing if it was announced that he’d been injured or accused of partaking in something based on Clan Law like Nick had been.

“Maybe I’ll do so well they’ll give me my own patrol early,” Sergey cracked, giving a wide, toothy grin that made Nick’s eyes roll.

“Yeah, maybe.”

↠

“Woah shit,” Callie cursed under her breath, steadying herself against the truck door after sliding down the seat. A hand remained on her impressive baby bulge as she waited for the dizzy rush to subside, blinking away the color storm before her eyes.

A gentle shake of her head seemed to toss away the last of that one, and she grunted, stretching sideways over the high drivers seat to grab her purse and book from the center console before swinging the heavy door closed and locking Nick’s big Dodge Ram. With a hard puff and slipping her bag over her shoulder, she set to waddling through the parking lot, pulling her long hair up when she started to heat up a couple minutes into the trek to the entrance of the high risk clinic.

Pregnant woman in every shape and size all exchanged kind and understanding smiles with her as she made her way through the lobby, almost all of them fanning their faces with another hand at the bend of their miserable backs.

She boarded the elevator with another woman that had a little one already in tow alongside her late term belly, dropped low and looking as if she couple pop any day. The thin woman pushed her pretty red locks off her shoulder, smiling down at the little girl who’s curly hair matched her mothers, but hid behind her arm when Callie smiled at her.

“Hi,” the little one piped.

“Hola hermosa,” Callie said softly. “She’s too cute,”

“Thanks, lucky for me she’s sweet too otherwise I don’t know if I could handle another,” her mother chuckled, her raspy voice reminding her of Rosie. “How far along are you?”

“20 weeks,”

“Second?”

“First,” Callie grinned, and the woman's brows perked up.

“Big for 20 weeks,” she observed. “Husband an Orc or something?”

Callie swallowed. “He’s also like 2 heads taller than me,”

The woman pulled air through her teeth, wincing. “Have fun pushing that one out,”

The tension in Callie’s shoulders eased; revealing she was carrying an Orcs child was always a hit or miss, and thankfully this time the stranger had been kind and uncaring enough to not lecture or damn her. The elevator opened, and the woman tugged her pretty daughter along gently.

“Have a nice day.” she called back to Callie, who in turn waved to the little one waving shyly.

The heavy doors slid shut, and she pressed her floor again, grinning to herself.

“Husband,” she said lowly, rubbing her stomach affectionately. “Think daddy will lose his mind if I start calling him that?” she questioned silently, but the insistent kicker that kept her up at night was slumbering, at least until she sat down somewhere.

When she finally came to her floor, Callie wandered down the lonesome hallway, turning here and there before strolling into the waiting room. The plush seats were a welcome relief after waiting a bit for someone to come up to the counter, and after setting her bag and book down and crossing her knees with some difficulty, she went about filling out the extensive paperwork.

Halfling forms were vastly different from normal check-up sheets, according to Rosie who’d accompanied her once before. They wanted to know about Nick just as much as her, right down to his overall physical condition.

It bugged her some once comparing these to normal human pregnancy forms; the numerous and sometimes oddly specific questions carried closely to that of questions you’d expect to see on breeding forms for animals then it did for a mother bringing life into the world.

Regardless, she filled it all out, having memorized everything about Nick so she didn’t have to bother him while he was working.

“Flores?”

She nearly dropped her clipboard in her haste to rise awkwardly and grab her belongings once called.

Callie almost couldn’t bare to look down at the scale after she kicked off her sandals, but still did, groaning when a few more pounds had appeared.

“When does the gaining stop?” she whined, stepping off the scale.

“When you pop ‘em out.”

Her heels bounced softly off the examination table, looking down at the coflex tape holding the gauze in place after the blood draw, also eyeing the cookies and juice they’d given to compensate.

Eat the banana in your purse instead, you cow.

A soft knock at the door drew her attention, and in walked Dr. Sangiu, her luscious coils pulled back into a sleek bun.

“Afternoon Miss Flores, how are we feeling today?” she asked cheerfully, pulling in an ultrasound machine behind herself.

“A little deflated after that blood draw,” Callie cracked, and her doctor grinned guiltily.

“I apologize for that, but how about we take a look at that baby?” she asked, and Callie perked up. All other tests and pokes could be forgotten if it meant she got a small glimpse of their tiny life every week.

“Do I have to have another transvaginal one?” Callie asked, accepting Dr. Sangui’s hand in lowering her back onto the examination bed.

“Every week, I’m afraid,” she answered, stepping to turn the lights off and jerking the probe jelly downwards before wiggling some onto Callie’s stomach. She went on to ask her the usual round of questions; how she was feeling, any bleeding, the usual. “Remind me how far along we are?”

“20 weeks,” Callie answered, fixing the tissue over her lap and crossing her ankles.

“So you should be well over feeling kicks by now. Developed your linea nigra I see,” she followed the dark line down her stomach with her finger.

“Cocoa butter only lightened it,”

“That’s common, actually. Okay let’s see how we’re doing,”

It took only a few twists of the probe against her slippery stomach to find the baby, who as it turns out was just starting to wake from its afternoon nap.

“Still upright, that’s good. Look at that big yawn,” her doctor smiled, holding the probe still so Callie could see it’s little mouth open, and even the fuzzy definition of a tongue before it wiggled it’s small hands before it’s face.

“Nick would’ve killed to see that,” Callie whined lovingly, arms beneath her head and watching her nudger swirl and wiggle. “Still growing fast?”

Dr. Sangiu nodded, fingers flying over the keys to take shots and measurements. “Rounding out at a little over a pound and almost a foot long. Impressive size for this little guy at only 20 weeks,” she grinned, more tapping over the keys.

Callie smiled, but then realization dawned on her, and she looked to the screen. “Little guy?”

Immediately, the doctors hand flew over her mouth, motionless a moment as she stared at Callie. “I am- I am so sorry, I’ve never made that mistake in my 8 years of practice,”

But Callie’s eyes were still glued to the screen, no readable expression across her placid brows or lips.

“Miss Flores-”

“Can I see?”

She stuttered a moment, before saying, “Of course!” and moving back to the machine.

It took some clever pressing and turns of the probe, but eventually they found the baby’s little butt and moved up where she pointed and explained the anatomy. “You’ve got a baby boy on the way,” she still smiled, reserved that was.

Callie’s big eyes welled, and she fought the tremble in her bottom lip she hid behind her fingertips as a torrent of excitement overtook her alongside bounding love she hadn’t experienced so strongly until that moment. All this time she’d tread cautiously around her own pregnancy, only allowing small moments of daydreaming here and there, but now knowing they were expecting a Leo had her hands covering her face, hiding a teary, beaming smile.

“Please accept my deepest apologies Callie, I truly-”

“No, no,” Callie sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Please don’t be sorry. We were close to buckling anyways,” she laughed. “I’m just excited,”

“I’m still so sorry. I can’t believe I did that,” the graceful doctor mumbled to herself, continuing on with the ultrasound.

“Does he look good?” Callie asked, and she nodded encouragingly.

“Still growing like an Orc, right along with the projections estimated,” she explained, but Callie noted the concern in her tone. “Let’s sit you up,”

Stiffly she sat upright, wiping her stomach with her eyes kept on Dr. Sangui as she moved the machine aside and grabbed for her chart to sit in the stool before her.

“Do you remember your appointment a few weeks back when we spoke about the baby growing to full term before your body is ready?” she asked. Callie nodded. “Based on my projections and your ultrasounds, I’d expect your little boy to be ready to pop at about 34 weeks,”

“Not too early,” Callie figured. Still enough time to get the rest of the furniture.

“That’s not what I’m concerned about. He’s also a very big baby- I wouldn’t be surprised if he was easily a 10 pounder at birth or bigger, and if your body doesn’t happen to be in sync when he’s ready, a vaginal delivery could be extremely risky for a baby that big going over it’s due date,”

Her heart dropped into her gut. “Risky how?” Callie asked, a little forlornly.

“He could become stuck in your pelvis leading to suffocation, or you could hemorrhage seeing as your uterine wall is already thin and full of scar tissue. I’d even recommend an episiotomy to prevent tissue from tearing,” she went on, but clasped her hands before herself. “But right now, we need to discuss a plan of action to avoid all of that if your body isn’t ready for labor by the time he is,”

“What would that be?” the expectant mother asked hesitantly.

“If you’ve not started labor shortly after 34 weeks, I’d like to induce you, but have an OR on standby in case you need a cesarean,”

“That fast? It wouldn’t even be okay for him to cook a week more?”

“At the rate he grows, it could be the difference between a generally smooth labor or an extremely difficult one; one which we wouldn’t know the outcome for either of you,”

Callie looked away, trying to make sense of it all. “What if I refused this?”

“You could be putting yourself and your sons life in danger if it came to that,” she answered bluntly.

Your son.

My son.

It put things into perspective a little better. What she carried inside wasn’t just a baby, but her child- her son. Their son.

Nick would be furious if she so easily refused the doctors advice and put her and their son at risk after all they’d gone through, simply because she had something more ideal in mind.

“I’m sorry to have to burden you with this,” Dr. Sangui redressed, but Callie shook her head and waved away her apology.

“It’s just a little scary,”

“Remember that this is a back-up plan. There’s just as much a chance your body will do everything it needs to and you’ll have the delivery you want, so we’ll deal with that when we get to it, yes?” she grinned, the gentle squeeze of her hand around Callie’s comforting.

Surely she wouldn’t shake the overall worry until she had him in her arms no matter what delivery befell her, but for that moment, she was okay with her doctors reassurance.

“Have you started feeling Braxton Hicks yet?”

Callie blinked from her daze. “Yeah, but they’re completely random,”

“Good, we want them to stay irregular, and it means your body is well aware of what’s going on if it’s doing test runs,” she explained.

“They freak Nick out,” she grinned, and Dr. Sangui laughed.

“Wait until labor starts, he’ll be spinning. Okay,” another pat her on hand before she wheeled away. “Time for the other ultrasound,”

Trying to withhold her groan was useless as she scooted down the table and fixed the thin tissue covering her lap.

“Do you have any names picked out?” Dr. Sangui asked as she lifted the stirrups.

“We do for a boy, actually,” Callie grinned, laying back.

“Oh let’s hear it,” the elegant woman piped, snapping new gloves on.

She cleared her throat in hopes her voice wouldn’t waver when she tenderly said, “Leonardo.”

↠

The door swung open wildly, and Callie stumbled through without spilling her Jamba Juice and kimchi stew take-out, or her purse that had plummeted from her shoulder and into the crook of her arm. Her phone still rang wildly in her purse, but trying to shove the door closed with her foot and ward off a jumping Pucca was near impossible.

“Parra de brincar!” she snapped, and Pucca dropped her head, staring up sadly with pretty almond eyes. It took some close calls and almost throwing her smoothie, but finally she emptied her arms enough to angrily yank her phone out and answer in time.

“Hey baby,” she exhaled, leaning against the counter. Trying to steady her breath with a baby attached was like trying to inhale with someone sitting on her back.

“You alright?” Nick asked anxiously.

“Yeah, almost dropped my dinner and crushed Pucca but I’m good,” Callie smiled, pinching the phone between her cheek and shoulder. “How’s work?”

“Pfft forget that, how’d the appointment go?” he asked in laughter, and Callie tensed up. She fought not to scream it at him.

“It was good, everything is going good so far,” her voice was still bubbly.

“Yeah? How’s the baby growing?”

“Yeah, about that,” she started.

“Oh fuck what?” he panicked.

“No calm down, everything is okay. My doctor thinks I’ll be full term by 34 weeks, not the full 40,”

“Oh. That’s definitely sooner,” he paused, and she could hear him counting under his breath. “That’s only 3 months away, holy shit. What’s the due date?”

“July 21st. She also said that if I don’t basically go into labor myself at 34 weeks, she wants to induce me,”

“That fast?” he asked, and she ‘mhm-ed’. “Is she that worried about the labor?”

“She is. She said L-” oh, that was close. “That the baby could get stuck or I could hemorrhage,”

“Well fuck,” Nick sighed. “Fuck, baby,”

“That’s just a back-up plan. I’m gonna do everything I can to push this thing outta me on my own, without a bunch of meds,” Callie said firmly, confidently, placing her Jamba Juice down hotly.

“When do you have to make a decision?”

“No- I don’t. It’s a back-up plan, in case something happens. Either way I don’t have much of a choice anyways. If I didn’t accept the help if it came to that, it could kill us both,”

“Jesus christ-”

“But that’s not happening, okay? So far everything is growing good and going good,” Callie affirmed, but could hear him sigh, and could just see him running his hand over his head; it was his nervous tick. “I got more ultrasounds. Got to see it yawn today too, it was so cute,”

“Of course I miss the good stuff. My little girl look anything like me yet?” he played, and Callie bit her bottom lip when she smiled, holding the phone against her chest a moment.

The shaky breath she took did nothing to calm her thumping heart.

“About that-”

She could tell Nick was away from the phone when she heard him talking, and then the distinct shrill of the sirens from over the phone also. “Yeah, this one- yeah that. Cal I gotta go, but I’ll call soon, yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah of course, be safe,” she grinned.

“Yep, love you,” he returned.

“I love you, bye.” she wiggled her phone into her hand, ending the call and Nick’s photo of a Snapchat cat filter over him while he slept faded from her screen.

She placed her phone down, going back to the takeout that had been knocked around quite a bit.

“When do you think I should tell him?” she asked out loud, but in a hushed tone, glancing down at her stomach. She’d felt the swirls start some time ago, after a few words passed between her and Nick that had stayed active, stirring further when her stomach growled.

“Do you think daddy would be upset to find out even though he wasn’t there?” she asked, giggling. “Nah, he’ll be excited no matter what. I can rub it in his face a little, too,”

Everyone’s face, actually.

Pucca’s head tilted side to side, listening intently to Callie’s soft words.

“My little Leo,” lovingly she declared, her cheeks starting to ache from the constant smile plastered across her face. “We’ll tell him when he gets home.”

With her food sorted and ready, Callie moved from the kitchen to change, but Pucca’s typical trotting beside her stopped abruptly when she looked at the door, her ears pointed forward. Low, half barks started bubbling from her, and she even moved closer, her tail wagging slowly.

Callie glanced back before moving down the hall. “Don’t you start.”

Her fist raised several times, her fingers resituating in her palm, but Tikka couldn’t bring herself to knock on the front door. Weeks of failed attempts and trying to find Ward on her own had brought her to this, her only cover being the dark of night and a wide hood over her platinum locks and pointed ears, but that wouldn’t work for long in a neighborhood like this; she was too out of place. She was at her wits end and still incredibly reluctant to involve Nick, but she didn’t know what else to do.

She looked down as her hand dropped, the other pinching the bridge of her nose.

Why was this so hard?

Again her fist lifted, but all she could muster was her hand rested on the door, her head hung. The conflicts in her heart and mind battled relentlessly. It exhausted her, leaving her desiring a full night's rest more than anything.

A few low barks from the other side of the door made her flinch back, stanced and ready to bolt.

“Don’t you start.” She heard a female voice say from inside, the barks heightening when Tikka stepped back quietly.

His wife… what if he’s not even home?

That doubt alone was enough to draw her away from the door, across the front yard and walking briskly down the sidewalk. She drew her hands into her pockets, her hood still drawn over head. With one option left, she started to reason with herself.

This last ditch effort could end only 2 ways: she could finally find Ward, or she’d be taken in by MTF, leaving Fero, and an unleashed Makhel to set LA ablaze, eventually uncovering the last of the Bright’s whereabouts and ending them. Still, these were met with more uncertainty. Anything could happen, or worsen. But with little advancements in the passing weeks, drastic measures needed to be taken if there was any chance left at stopping him.

↠

“Do you got ‘em all?” Nick asked, his grip tightening around the arm of the vivacious teen they’d arrested that kept trying to jerk away. Nick scoffed, taunting, “Do you think you’re gonna run out of here?”

“Yeah- meet you at the pumps?” Sergey asked, and Nick nodded, walking into the station with the cursing teen who he could’ve easily picked up by the ankle and carried.

The rookie didn’t envy Nick. Intakes were the dull part of the process, and he’d already lost his cool once trying to cuff that little shithead, resulting in a serious reprimand from Nick about not becoming one of the cops that let anger turn an easy arrest into next mornings newest scandal about the LAPD. Sergey chuffed, climbing back into the cruiser and swinging it around the few confusing turns to the back corner of the precinct where their gas pumps were stationed.

Empty that night after another cruiser took off, and Sergey still waved despite the officer behind the wheel ignoring him. He did so more to bug them than actually expecting a return gesture.

With the cruiser parked and tank filling after roaming around on empty a while, he leaned against its side, looking down at his phone that had a few messages from Dura he’d not been able to answer a few hours prior. He chuckled; her paranoia when he didn’t answer promptly was cute.

Quick clopping of heels pulled his attention up, and he quickly found the hooded figure moving a little conspicuously around the cruisers, her hands shoved into the pockets of the elegant trench coat she wore.

“Are you lost, ma’am?” Sergey called out kindly.

The rate at which she spun made him flinch, nearly dropping his phone, but by the time he’d gathered himself, a glowing, humming wand was pointed right at him.

“Don’t,” the blue eyed girl snapped when he reached for his gun, the wand warbling louder in her hold.

Sergey struggled to calm the pulse thundering in his ears, his palms turned up and trembling.

Everything he’d been taught about de-escalation techniques had flown from his mind in the wake of panic, his mouth running drier than his confidence. Add in a Bright to the equation, he was downright terrified. He’d heard rumor of ‘trigger’ happy wand wavers and their ruthlessness; how was he gonna get out of this one?

“Where’s Jakoby?” she asked, but Sergy didn’t know how to answer.

“Not here,” he forced out, and she took an intimidating step towards him.

“Where!?”

“He- he’s booking someone!” Sergey’s back hit the cruiser.

She looked around fleetingly, her fingers adjusting and tightening around the wand, a few side to side shuffles showing she wasn’t entirely confident in her actions, either. During one long look over their surroundings, he let his hand rest on his gun, and thankfully she didn’t notice when glaring back at him.

“Call him,” she ordered. “Call him!”

Inwardly he cursed himself for flinching, slowly reaching for his shoulder walkie.

“Jakoby, can you come to the pumps ASAP?” he spoke as evenly as possible, but also hoped his tone was enough to bring his partner to them quickly before this woman decided she didn’t need him anymore.

“Gimme a few minutes kid,” the radio sounded, and both of them showed clear annoyance with his response.

But it also got Sergey thinking that it might’ve been enough time for someone else to come along and at least scare her off.

Keep your temper even and go home to Dura.

“Maybe I can help you with what you need,” Sergey tried, but her expression was unmoving, as was the creaking wand.

“No. Not you,” she ground out, but he still caught her accent, which brought together the alarming brightness of her eyes.

He took a few low inhales, but couldn’t hide the scrunching of his nose. He hated how elves smelled. All of them sickly sweet; it leaked from their pores so pungently.

“If you’re looking for an Officer I can assure you I can help-”

“I said not you!” she screamed, her voice breaking.

“Tikka!”

Nick knew it was her before she even spun to face him. This had been long awaited, no matter how much he wanted to avoid or deny the possibility of ever seeing her again. His heart plummeted into his stomach, his eyes meeting Sergey’s fleetingly.

“Jakoby,” she whimpered, face tightening with restraint. “Where’s Ward?”

“What’re you doing here Tikka?” Nick asked, his voice brought down to a plea as he approached her, his hands held up with the wand still pointed at him.

“It doesn’t concern you,” she wavered.

“You broke into my truck-”

“Where is he!?” she demanded, and when Nick’s eyes flew behind her, she again spun.

“Sergey!” Nick yelled, but he’d already drawn his gun and pointed, but bullets were no match against magic. The attack wasn’t as loud as it was powerful, so much that Nick felt the kick-back from the blast after the concentrated, vibrating sphere of force hit the rookie at the center of his chest, throwing him back against the cruiser effortlessly.

The wand pointed back to Nick, meeting his own raised glock, but he was having trouble telling if he could see Sergey breathing on the ground, his gun still in hand, otherwise motionless.

Nick struggled to control his ragged breathing, ire shooting to every ending of his body. Get up, Sergey. Get up.

Tikka’s hood had blown back, and he could finally see her entirely. What he could guess was years of hardship showed evident on her still youthful face, but the light in her eyes had dulled considerably since seeing her all that time ago.

They stood, armed and ready to fire, but both unwilling.

“Just tell me where he is,” she begged, her face sorrowing.

“I can’t,” Nick’s tone was desperate, but his aim was steady.

“Tell me! I can’t be here!”

“Then go! Get out of here, just leave!”

“No! I need him! I’ve been trying to find you all day now just tell me where Ward is!” she yelled, both hands moving to the wand. Don’t make me do this.

Nick’s ears twitched, his eyes narrowing. “Where have you-”

“Answer me! I’m being followed I can’t stay here!”

His blood ran cold, his gun dropping to his side as he stepped forward, uncaring of the shrill ringing of the wand that was only inches from his chest. “Have you been to my home?”

“Jakoby please-”

“Have you!?” he hollered, and she flinched.

“I was only there a moment-”

Nick didn’t wait to hear anymore. He spun on his heel while his gun was holstered, ripping the walkie off his shoulder and tossing aside the one from his belt. Everything was forgotten, his thoughts tunneling; he had to get home immediately. Fuck the leave of absence tomorrow or reporting to Kandomere- fuck Tikka. If she’d just compromised Callie’s safety, it was best he wasn’t around her. He couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t lash out with all the anger that’d built over the weeks if he still stayed back there.

He hadn’t smelled blood from Sergey upon leaving, and desperately hoped he was alive.

He could feel panic coursing through him as he ran to his truck, throwing himself into the driver's seat.

The engine turned hotly, but he wasn’t prepared for Tikka to be gracefully slipping into the passenger seat just as he’d started to back-up.

“Get out,” he snapped.

“No-”

“GET OUT!” he bellowed, his head shaking with rage.

“If he’s there you’re going to need me!” she bit back just as viciously, and with confusion, and great reluctance, he went on to whip the truck wildly in reverse before the tires screeched across the pavement out of the parking lot.

↠

Her tongue was pinched between her teeth, carefully and delicately, for the 8th time, writing Leo’s full name across another sticky note she planned to stick besides the one on the door that would be his room. Callie still wasn’t totally satisfied with her poor handwriting, but it was the best of the bunch so far.

“That looks good, right?” she asked Pucca, holding it before her. The merle pit sniffed diligently, but lost interest when there was no treats hidden in her palms. “It looks decent at best, huh?” she went on, inspecting it closer.

“Do you think he’ll even notice?” she also asked, but Pucca had trotted from the table to paw at her chew toy stuck under the couch, leaving Callie before a small pile of crumpled sticky notes and a mess of colored pens littered across the tables surface.

Leo somersaulted, and she could imagine his impatience growing to be rocked again since she’d first sat at the table an hour ago to put together the little surprise.

“Calmase, Leo,” she pleaded, sitting straighter. It felt like he was trying to stand up inside her stomach. Still, she couldn’t help smiling every time his name made it past her lips. She’d only dared saying it a few times since that appointment, more so not to antagonize her own dark thoughts that kept reminding her: something could still go wrong.

A loud, vicious bark from Pucca turned Callie with a hand against her chest, finding the pitbull stood beside the couch, her head in line with her spine and ears perked forward, staring at the door.

“You know you’re gonna have to get over you obsession with opossums by the time Leo gets here,” Callie rolled her eyes, but then she noted the fur standing on her back, and the rippling, low growls emitting from her. Callie glanced at the door.

“Pucca?” she said softer, standing. “What is it mija?”

Even when Callie leaned over to pat her side, Pucca continued growling, her lips pulled back over her impressive rows of sharp teeth.

There was a harsh shuffle outside the door, and Callie flinched as Pucca lurched forward, barking wildly.

Dread flooded her, as well as recollections of her past attack flying before her eyes.

Of burning light coming in through a broken door, and the stinging pull of tape around her wrists while shattering blows struck her head. She could still recall the agonizing pain in her stomach, and the moment the doctors told her she’d miscarried.

Her head felt light, her breathing rapid with her hand clutching her stomach.

No, not again.

A small wave of energy swam through the home, and everything around her went dark. TV, lights- even her phone on the table she'd been listening to music on, it all turned off.

“Pucca, Pucca! C’mon!” she hissed, moving back towards the hall as a low glow started to shine through the cracks of the front door. Her brows furrowed, her back hitting the entrance to the hallway.

When a loud whirring sounded from outside, Callie bolted, swinging around the doorframe to their room just as the door flung open with a thundering boom, bouncing harshly against the wall as wood splinters and smoke billowed in from outside.

————————————————————————————————

Uh-oh.

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ghostofviperwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Generous

Requested by: @i-ship-it-okay

Pairing: Evil/FC

Category: Angst/Smut

Warnings: some mentions of blood and violence

6. Get your fucking hands off of me; 23. How many times do I have to tell you that your body belongs to me? AND 98. I like to watch

Six months ago Evil had seen her and thought she was something special. Approaching her after a show he got her number and was determined to make her his. So Evil did something he didn’t normally do. He courted her. Got advice from his brothers on what women liked, sent her flowers and candy, took her out to nice restaurants, listened to her when she had a bad day. Everything they told him you needed to do to make a woman fall in love. It seemed to be working, she was enamored of him. Soon the couple was exclusive and Evil thought that just maybe he might be ready to start settling down. He wouldn’t go so far as to declare himself in love with her, but he could definitely see a future with her.

He brushed aside his unease when he saw her flirting with Naito. He had forgotten something in the locker room and had returned to see her, hand brushing playfully across Naito’s chest. She never saw him, but Naito filled him in on the encounter having his brother’s back. Evil had filed it away, but didn’t worry too much about it. But now he was watching closer, seeing things he might not have seen before. She was careless, for some reason believing his brothers weren’t going to tell him about her flirtations. That they were going to be distracted by her pretty face. Yes they were womanizers and fucked anything that moved, but first they were family.

Bushi was her next target, and she got more brazen with him. He shut her down quickly. She cried and carried on begging him not to tell Evil about her lapse. Stupid girl believed him when he said he wouldn’t.

Evil’s anger grew and festered, but he carried on as if everything was normal. He didn’t change his behavior towards her and gave her enough rope to hang herself. She knew that she belonged to him. That she was his and he was hers and she was destroying that. He really should just dump the bitch and move on, but a part of him still clung to her.

Every night he took her home and fucked her hard and deep, making her come undone around him as he reminded her again and again that she belonged to him as she promised with screams that her body was his. After, as they lay sated together, Evil let himself believe that she was just flirtatious. That she felt safe coming onto his brothers because they wouldn’t betray him. That she didn’t want to hurt him by flirting with others. That she was faithful to him.

He was ready to turn a blind eye. Pretend he didn’t notice her flirtations and let her continue. His brothers would continue to reject her and she could get her kicks. What he didn’t expect was for her to grow more brazen in her endeavors.

That she would make a move that would batter his emotional attachment to her. A move that he couldn’t ignore and let go unpunished. She crossed the line going after his best friend. That was just something you didn’t do. When Sanada came to Evil and told him that she had followed him into the shower, Evil had lost it. It took Sanada, Naito and Hiromu to hold him back from hunting her down and strangling the life out of her.

Instead they took him out, got him so drunk he couldn’t stand and had him crash at Sanada’s place. In the morning, with a cooler head; Evil sat down with Sanada and talked through things. Sanada had never been the biggest proponent of his relationship; he had never liked or trusted her. Now Evil was wishing he had paid more attention to his friend’s instincts. Why she had thought Sanada would do anything with her besides verbally eviscerate her he didn’t know.

So the two friends sat for hours in Sanada’s kitchen, Sanada making Evil pour his heart out despite his best efforts not to. Once the dam broke Evil ranted and raved, pacing angrily around the kitchen at one point as he cursed her very name, his frustration with her boiling over. Then it was quiet as Evil slumped down along the wall, laying his head down on his knees as his heart broke for the loss of what he had seen as his future.

“How could she do this to me Seiya?” Evil asked, his voice a dull monotone. Sanada watched his friend hurting, a furious anger burning through him as he rose from his chair at the table and moved to slide down the wall. Putting his arm around Evil’s shoulders, Sanada rubbed his arm in a comforting gesture.

“I don’t know man. I’m sorry. I wish I had answers for you.” Sanada said quietly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She couldn’t ask for someone better.”

Evil stayed quiet his mind replaying every moment of their relationship wondering where he went wrong. What had he done that made her seek out attention from others? Didn’t he give her enough affection, show her enough love? He thought he was doing everything right. Evil had done everything he could to make her realize she was special. If this was heartbreak, Evil didn’t want anything to do with it. Fuck love. Fuck feelings. If this was the end result? He wanted nothing to do with it. He shut down his heart, determined never to let himself feel for anyone again. It only ended in hurt.

Evil’s phone on the table once again began ringing making Evil raise his head and glare in its direction. She had been calling all fucking night. Clapping his hand on Evil’s shoulder Sanada pushed to his feet, walking over to the fridge and pulling out two bottles of water tossing one to Evil. Sanada glared at the phone as it began ringing again.

“Do you want to talk to her?” Sanada asked hitching his head towards the phone receiving a quick negative shake of the head from Evil.

Walking to the table he picked up Evil’s phone, sliding to answer with is thumb.

“Evil doesn’t want to talk to you. You would think you would have gotten the clue the first twenty times he didn’t answer your calls.” Sanada said bluntly.

“I need to talk to him.” She said shrilly. “You can’t just keep me from him. I want to make him understand. I made a mistake.”

“Is that what you call walking into my shower and putting your hands on me?” Sanada asked dryly. “I’d hate to see what happens when you try to do something on purpose.”

“Fuck you Sanada. You’ve never liked me.” She spat. “You’re just trying to destroy what Evil and I have.”

“You’re right. I don’t like you. I knew you were going to do exactly what you have done and hurt one of the few people in this world I give a damn about.” Sanada snapped. “So go fuck yourself.” Disconnecting the call Sanada set Evil’s phone down on the table, looking over at his friend who had his head back against the wall staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Delusional bitch.” Evil said. His hands clenched into fists as he thought about what a fool he had been. How had he fallen for such a deceitful cunt? How did he miss all the warning signs? Why did he stay the first time she showed tendencies towards unfaithfulness? His mind ran through his memories, unable to stop himself from wondering if she had ever crossed that line. Had she cheated on him? Were there others outside his brothers? Ones that wouldn’t hesitate to take a beautiful woman up on what she was offering?

“I need a shower.” Evil said pushing to his feet. “Thanks man.” He nodded in appreciation to Sanada, heading down the long hallway towards the guest room he was using. Turning on the shower Evil stepped under the hot stream his head falling forward as tears he didn’t want to acknowledge fell down his face. He was tired. He didn’t realize how much her actions had been eating himself up inside. As he stood under the burning water Evil sobbed as he acknowledged that he had been in love with the bitch. He hadn’t admitted it. Didn’t want to. But there was no denying his heart was ripped to fucking shreds.

Sanada leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table, watching as Evil shoveled his breakfast down his throat. He was hiding it well, Sanada would give Evil that much. He could probably even blame the redness in his eyes on water from the shower. Sanada was too observant to fall for that though. He noticed the tense set to Evil’s shoulders, the dejected set to them. The way he clenched his coffee cup a bit too tightly, knuckles white.

“Let’s go.” Sanada said as Evil pushed his plate away.

“Where are we going?” Evil asked downing the last of his coffee.

“Down to my gym.” Sanada said nodding towards the door off the kitchen that led down to the basement gym.

“I just took a shower Seiya, the last thing I want to go do is get all sweaty.” Evil said.

“Evil?” Sanada said rising to his feet. “Get your ass down in that gym.” He walked to the door and headed downstairs not bothering to check if Evil was following. He knew he would. And he was right, as moments later a grumbling Evil appeared at the bottom of the stairs making Sanada grimace at the expression on his face. He was definitely going to regret this. Throwing a pair of sparring gloves at Evil, Sanada turned his back sliding on his own gloves and mentally preparing for the hurting that he was about to let Evil lay on him.

He was right, he was definitely regretting this. The first blow Evil landed to his stomach the force knocking the wind out of him. Keeling over Sanada groaned throwing a punch into Evil’s thigh that had the big guy stumbling back allowing Sanada to straighten and catch his breath.

“Come on big guy, you hit like a pussy,” Sanada taunted, cursing himself at the same time for being a good friend. Selfish people didn’t tend to have friends they had to let beat the shit out of you to make them feel better.

“I’ll show you pussy pretty boy. Let’s see how much you get when I’m done with you.” Evil snapped rushing forward fists at the ready as Sanada put his hands up in a defensive position.

For the next fifteen minutes the only sounds filing the gym were grunts and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh as the two men fought.

“First blood.” Evil crowed as his glove split Sanada’s lip sending blood dripping down his face. His bragging allowed Sanada to retaliate, tagging Evil’s nose and making blood spurt down his face.

“More blood.” Sanada retorted the two touching gloves and stepping back, each grabbing a towel and holding it to their faces to staunch the blood flow. Breathing heavily Sanada grabbed water from the fridge tossing a bottle to Evil.

“Thanks pretty boy,” Evil said with his first genuine smile of the day finally appearing on his face.

“No problem,” Sanada said wincing as he rubbed his jaw. “Though I don’t know if that’s an apt nickname at the moment.” Sanada smirked as he watched Evil walk out of the gym looking a hundred times lighter than when they walked in. He supposed that was worth a few bruises, a split lip and a black eye.

Unfortunately all the hard work Sanada put in was thrown right out the window when Evil returned to his home to find her there waiting. He glared at her, sitting there on his couch as if she had any right to be here. She rose to her feet approaching him cautiously as she tried to get a read on him. She bit her lip, dragging it through her teeth, hiding her smile as she watched Evil’s eyes follow the movements. Reaching out with her hand she dragged her fingers along his forearm.

“Get your fucking hands off of me,” Evil snapped jerking his arm back. “God only knows where they’ve been. Who they’ve touched. You lost all rights to touch me.”

“They haven’t touched anyone Evil. Please.” She said. “I was just flirting…it didn’t mean anything.”

“Didn’t mean anything when you walked in on Sanada in the shower and grabbed his junk?” Evil sneered. “That sounds like it means something. You were mine! How many times do I have to tell you that your body belongs to me?”

“I know Evil,” She said. “I belong to you I know. My body is yours. I messed up, I’m sorry.” She again reached out to him. This time he didn’t jerk free. “Please. Don’t throw this away. I will never do this again. I love you, please.” She drew closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I love you too,” Evil said dropping his lips to hers, his tongue slipping past her lips. His hands moved down to the bottom of her shirt pulling it up over her head, his hands moving to her breasts as his mouth bit down her neck making her wince as he left indentations of his teeth along her flesh. Ripping her bra off Evil moved his mouth down to her tits, flicking his tongue over her nipples before biting the tender peaks making her moan in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Her fingers gripped his hair encouraging him as he moved down her body his tongue running through her belly button as she shivered. Evil’s fingers yanked open her button and pushed her jeans and panties down around her ankles, his tongue burying itself in her folds. She moaned loudly as he sucked her clit into his mouth, pushing his tongue against the nub.

A whine escaped when he pushed away from her and rose to his feet.

“Bend over.” Evil growled watching as she obeyed, leaning over the edge of the couch, spreading herself open temptingly for him. Shucking his pants Evil came up behind her brutally shoving his cock inside her as his hands gripped onto her hips. “You don’t get to cum this time sweetheart. You have lot to make up for before I let you feel pleasure.”

“Please Evil, I said I was sorry.” She plead.

“I know you did. Doesn’t mean you get off without being punished.” Evil said softly. Her head hung in defeat knowing there wasn’t any way she was going to change his mind. Gripping the couch cushions she submitted to Evil’s pounding, thinking of everything she could to push pleasure from her mind. “After I’m done here, you are going to march on down to my dungeon and submit to whatever I want to do to you. Do you understand me?”

“I do.” She whispered.

“Good girl.” Evil said. With a final grunt Evil thrust deep inside her, spilling his seed.

Two weeks later things were seemingly back to normal. She was persona non grata with Evil’s brothers. They weren’t quite as quick to forgive her as Evil was. So she had to stay away from them. She could live with that. She had made a mistake in misjudging their loyalty. She would just have to be more careful with her intended dalliances in the future. Stay far away from anybody that Evil knew. He was on the road enough, it shouldn’t hamper her too much to behave while he was in town.

And Evil was treating her like a princess. Taking her out every night he was home. Bringing her home little gifts when he was gone all day. It was almost enough to make her rethink straying. Almost. But she was what she was and monogamy was never her strong suit. Tonight they had gone out to a very expensive dinner, with copious amounts of wine that had her rather tipsy.

When she walked through the door of Evil’s home she immediately sobered up, stopping short as she was greeted by the four remaining members of LIJ sprawled throughout Evil’s living room. Backing up she was stopped by bumping into Evil’s chest, his arms wrapping around her body holding her against him.

“Evil?” She asked warily crying out as his grip tightened painfully.

“You did this. You wanted to lust after my friends like a fucking slut then I’ll treat you like one.” Evil snarled into her ear. “I was true to you and you reward my loyalty by trying to fuck my brothers? Did you really think I was just going to let that go? Well guess what? There’s something you don’t know about me. ”I like to watch. And I’m going to watch you fuck every single one of them.”

She struggled as his hand moved to her zipper, pulling it down her back and yanking it down her body and shoving her away from him making her land on her knees in bra and panties looking at the rest of the men.

“You want them so bad? Fine. I’ll give you what you want.” Evil said standing over her. “Never let it be said I’m not a generous guy. I know how to share. From now on you don’t just belong to me, you belong to all of us. Hope it’s everything you dreamed it would be.”

#evil imagine #evil fanfic #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywriting #ghostofviperwrites

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