#the way i sobbed while writing this is criminal

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙘 ♡︎

characters: sub!gallagher x nb!dom!reader

warnings: usage of aphrodisiacs, exhibitionism, slight dumbification, thigh riding, dry humping, begging, cumming untouched, gallagher being an old man loser, just a mini drabble guys. nothing big (i say as i write down 1,7K words)

notes: @lufenianwol you knew exactly what you were doing when you sent me gallagher’s leaked idle animation didn’t you, you gayyyy🫵🏳️‍🌈 (im gay too😔)

sigh…

another day, another long work of hunting down criminals or outlaws who came to penacony uninvited and detaining them. the most time gallagher could ever get to de-stress were behind the bars, mixing up a drink his customers asked for or when with you. you were a fellow bloodhound, a high ranking one too, so never had enough time to spend some quality time with your tired lover.

but today, you wanted to be a little mischievous. and what was that on your mind? you slipped just a teeny weeny bit of aphrodisiacs into his usual alcohol in his personal flask of course! just a little. maybe a pinch or two. a bit of a sprinkle of magic as a gift.

or maybe even a whole mini bottle. but you won’t say it until your tired lover comes crawling over to you, huffing and puffing, whining whimpering as he begs for your help at “restocking” some of the alcohol at the backrooms.

at the other end of the bar, you watch with a barely hidden smirk whenever your lover takes a sip from his personal flask during his break times. each time he does, getting more and more intoxicated in the taste. you purposely chose one that tasted delicious and soft on the tongue, a way to reward him for his hard work of running after criminals and preparing him for what was about to happen.

he started out strong, as expected of a bloodhound officer. barely felt it, focusing on work, wiping a glass or two, mixing up a drink. but the more he drank from his flask, the more you noticed it. the little stuttering over his words, the slight flush in his cheeks, the jumpy way he reacted whenever you passed by him with a hand on his waist or lower back. that bulge in his pants. that damn delicious bulge that you love to bully.

shaking your head, snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you focus back on work to wipe the bar clean and serve the customers drinks and desserts of their liking. you and gallaher were a good pair to serve amazing cocktails after all.

finally, the rush hour had ended, meaning fewer customers. the fewer there are, the more noticeable gallagher’s show of being affected by the little sprinkle of magic became. at first, he tried to play things off as signs of cold, or just the warm and low lighting of the bar being the reason his cheeks are pink. hell, he even coughed a few times to make his act believable. believable to the nosy customers but never to you.

“[n-name]…” the man barely manages to muffle his whimper when calling out your name, low lidded eyes, hazy vision and slightly shaky hand tugging on your necktie. you hum, turning to him with a raised brow as if you weren’t the reason behind this panting mess in front of you.

“yeah? what’s up?” you ask, putting down the bottle on where it’s supposed to be as your hands come to rest on his waist. the rush hour just ended, the bar still had a few customers but they were either too drunk to care nor engrossed in their own sob life stories to share you two a glance. and gallagher was damn glad for it too.

“w-we, ahem, need to head to the backrooms. we’re running out of some beers and fizzy drinks in the fridge” he quickly clears his throat, hoping that no one had caught onto his little stuttering. you did, of course. you would catch onto anything your lover says or does. even the tiniest things. such as how he was trying to make it seem like an innocent half-hug when you could feel his cock twitch in his pants as he pushes his crotch against yours, hoping to conceal it while also giving you a little heads-up.

as if you needed the heads-up.

“alright. you can go first, i’ll come after you once i wipe my hands” you nod your head, watching as your lover disappears behind the door with a sign that read “staff only”. it was cute how gallagher was so trusting of you, never even thought for a moment how you could have been the one to drug his flask of alcohol. though, judging from his cloudy eyes and stuttering, you could guess that he could barely even think to begin with. how adorable of him.

soon enough, you follow after the steps of your lover, walking into the “staff only” part of the bar and later onto the door with the sign “backrooms”. the pretty decent sized dark room where the bar keeps their ingredients and drinks. the same exact room where your lover pushes you against the wall the moment you entered, shaky hands fumbling with the buttons of your button down shirt as he humps his hardened cock against your crotch.

“woah woah, puppy. easy now. what’s going on? i thought we needed to restock on our drinks?” you ask, feigning innocence as your hands rest over gallagher’s shaky ones, stopping his fumbling and managing to catch his attention for a minute. he looked so dumbfounded. bottom lip on the brink of bleeding due to his chewing, panting, cheeks flushed a pretty red as his dilated eyes try to focus on you. you swore he looked like he was almost on the brink of crying with how damn pathetic he looked.

“c-can’t… [name], please, help me… ‘s so hot, tight. stupid pants mmngh!” gallagher only moans, tripping over his own words in a jumbled mess as he tries to find some sort of relief for his poor aching cock. looking down, you could briefly make out a dark small patch at the front of his pants. he was so drugged that he couldn’t even tell that he was staining his own clothes with his precum. so cute.

you only hum in response, not bothering to do as he pleads as your hands rest on the fat of his ass, massaging them gently. he only whines, slurred words of how he wanted your hands on his cock falling out as he squirms in your hold. lowering yourselves down to the floor of the room, you shift gallagher on top of you to ride your thigh instead. flexing the muscles in them to make it easier for him as he whimpers at the feeling.

immediately, the man started to hump your thigh. salacious mewls falling out of his lips as he doesn’t even try to silence his loud noises, only dumbly trying to relieve himself as he rubs his clothed cock on your thigh. you could see the dark patch in his pants getting bigger, darker the more he rides your thigh. if he had his dick out, he would probably leave a mess all over your clothes.

“shh shh, puppy. the door isn’t locked, remember?” you chuckle, reminding him of where the two of you were getting naughty at. it was so cute to see his eyes perk up at the sound of your voice. more specifically, whenever you called him puppy. he really did lived up to that nickname, looking like a cute pup as he bites down on his lip.

one of your hands travel up to his chest, opting to play with his perky nipple as he let out a loud squeal at that. his chest was always so sensitive, making him let out the most delicious whimpers each time you roll, pinch or tug at the hardened nub. being so mean to not slip your hands under the opening of his button down shirt at the front, playing with his nipples over the harsh fabrics of his clothes instead. he just wanted your touch on him to relieve the ache pooling in his belly, would you be so mean to deny him of his wishes?

apparently, you would. the hand on the soft fat of his ass moving to rest over his hip, helping him hump his cock on your thigh as your other hand continue their brutal assaults on his chest. poor gallagher, can't even form a single word as his pleads fall out of his swollen lips in a jumbled heap of mess. you could barely make out your own name from it. the words sounding so muddled up as if the bloodhound officer couldn't tell the difference between reality and his drug induced feelings.

"[n-naaammmeee]... sniff pleasheee fuunnghh fucck!! p-pleashh pleaash pleeaasshee♡︎!! ungh!! guuunnhg♥︎♥︎! p-pretty pleaaseee♡︎?" gallagher whines helplessly, stuffing his flushed face into the crook of your neck as his movements become more sloppy and frantic. he was so close to cumming already, it was just so cute to see how easily someone who is apparently always in control to crumble over with just a little bit of thigh riding. and some sprinkle of magic added to the mix.

in an attempt to muffle his loud moans and stuttering of his breath, he hastily lowers the collar of your own button down shirt just a little bit more. just enough so he could bite down over the old, healing bite mark of his so he could attempt to muffle his pathetic noises. you only coo out in a mocking tone, calling him by that nickname again as you tug on his nipple through his shirt as debouched cries of your name falls from his lips over and over like a mantra. gallagher sounded like one of those old, broken down radios that only replay a single song that sometimes is in the bar.

with a final thrust and a meek little bounce on your thigh, gallagher releases into his clothes. the magenta red hue of his pants turning a darker shade as his cum pools into the materials of his pants, staining it as some of the translucent liquid drips down onto your pants. you could just wash them out later.

"done with your little show, puppy?" you ask, the hand on his hip squeezing a bit to snap him out of his hazy mind. instead, you got a shake of his head, his stubble lightly tickling the skin of your neck in the process.

"wan' more... wan' you♥︎" he mumbles, delirious and drooling, as he humps his still hard cock against your crotch, indicating what he craved so desperately. maybe next time you should check the dosage you put into his drink if he's gonna be drugged this heavily by such a small amount.

[ryxmix]

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY

pairings ; boothill x fem! reader

warnings ; smut smut smuuuuut, size kink if you squint real hard, robo dick, ooc boothill (made before release), censored cussing from his side, you call him "sir", use of pet names (sugar, girlie, pretty thing), he has normal human cum for some reason okay don't question me it's smut, you wear his hat (mentioned like...once), he's a huge tease, clit smacking, breeding kink, dumbification, degradation and praise???, he calls you a pillow princess, and more stuff...

a/n: i know he just got drip marketing but i need MORE- also i was thinking of sloppy seconds (ick pt2) by lay bankz while writing this so do with that what you will.

"c'mon sugar, you can do better, can't ya?" the cowboy mumbles mockingly, circling patterns into your inner thigh as you ride him tirelessly, tears staining your puffy cheeks as you try your hardest to cum.

"aw, is my pretty thing such a pillow princess that she can't do nothin unless her big strong cowboy does it for her?" he coos, smacking your clit before gripping onto your hips, still not moving, "didn't you want this? i never told you to, but you thought you could do it, dumb little girl." you sob, grinding down on him, "sir— wanna cum s'bad sir— nghaa!— it hurts, fuck—" he smiles up at your teary face, back resting against the headboard of the bed as he looks at you, teeth bared.

"oh girlie, you want me that bad? you want me to fill that pussy up so good until you can't think no more?" he coos, thrusting up into you, and for the first time tonight, you feel good, his cock touching that spot in your cunny.

"boothill—" he slaps your clit as a warning, and you whine, "sir! sir, it feels good! please, please make me feel good sir, please! fill me up, make me cum, anything!"

he grins at you, sharp teeth glinting under the dim light of the bedroom as he grabs you by the waist and pushes you down on the bed, metal-plated hands cold against your body. you squeak out, gripping onto the sides of the sheets as he flips you over.

"since ya asked so nicely, it would be too mean to say no to ya, girlie," he groans out, using his thumbs to spread your leaky cunt apart, humming at the way it glistens before he thrusts his cock back into you, eliciting a scream from your lips.

"sir! yes, sir— fu- hahnghh! it feels so good, sir, hah~ s-so good—" he doesn't respond, letting out a low growl as he thrusts into you harder and faster, feeling you tighten around him deliciously. You whimper and whine, feeling so full with his cock.

"such a good girl, my good little cutie," he clicks his tongue in annoyance when he can't call you what he wants to; when he can't call you his little slut. but you seem to get the memo, hole tightening around him before you squirt, cum gushing all over him as you fall limp, but he's not stopping, still thrusting into your sensitive hole.

"sir— sir, wait, 'm still sensitive, sir— nghyaa!??" he presses you down on the bed fully, cock thrusting deep until it kisses your cervix, and you let out a broken whimper. He lets out a delightful chuckle, a hand going around your neck until he brings you into a choke hold in his arm, squishing your cheeks until you can only let out babbles from the struggle to breathe. but it still feels so good, better even.

"sir— sir, 'm gonna cum again— sir— mphyaaa!" you gush around his cock once more and he finally spills into your hole, cum thick and creamy. he lets you out of the criminally sexy chokehold before putting his hat on you with a chuckle, admiring your fucked out face.

"that's my pretty girl, heh."

[supremeshrimpy]

please don't leave me again

Request: Hello! can you write reuniting with them after months/years due to work/curses/ or anything! (up to you!) with seperate! lilia, jade, azul, floyd, and leona? (atp im just desperate for content for the aforementioned characters badly) 

-Anon

Summary: stay a bit longer, it’s been so long! Just…don’t leave them again…

Characters: Lillia Vanrouge, Jade Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, Leona Kingscholar 

A/N: damn a 18 month hiatus is crazy huh… Also, I didn’t feel like writing a Floyd one because I’m a tired senior 

Lillia Vanrouge (Curse): 

Sometimes, when he closes his eyes at night, he sees you smiling at him in a field of flowers. Euphoria. Other times, he sees you lying motionless in his arms, he can still smell the toxin on your lips. He remembers everything so vividly, the way your hair shaped your cold face as he laid your body in your glass tomb. Still, hundreds of years later, he remembers his promise to you.

“For as long as my heart beats,” he whispered, “I will be restless in bringing you back to me, my love.”

So when he received a letter that you had awoken, he was overcome with emotions. As he flew back to the Valley of Thorns, he was angry at himself for missing the moment as your eyes reopened but so fucking excited to feel his cold skin against your warm self again. 

They moved you to our old room in the palace, everything was the same but so much time had passed. It had been so long since…everything. You can’t walk, you can barely talk, and all basic movements feel like challenges. Everybody that you once sat around a table and laughed with was now long dead. 

You were left to ponder how you could even exist in this new world. Everything you knew was gone, friends, family, and…oh no. What became of your dearest, Lillia? Did he go out as a war hero or as a criminal? Did he live to…find someone new and start a family? 

This was all too much, you can’t take the thought. Everything is too much, you just wish that you could close your eyes and go back to the ways things were. 

The door to your room slammed open and there stood a panting, young man. Why does he look so familiar? 

“You’re…this…by the Dark- you’re awake…,” even with his stammers he sounded a lot like someone you once knew. A certain someone who you shared a final memory with. 

“...Lillia,” your question comes out like a whisper as if it was taboo. Before you knew it Lillia had dropped to his knees in front of you. 

“YE-yes it’s me, my love,” he corrects his voice just as quickly as it came out. His head dropped on your lap; he wanted to feel your skin on his, “please, let’s allow me to stay like this for a bit….” 

Jade Leech (Moving Away):

His last memory of you was when you were both seven years old, Jade was clinging to your tail. He was sobbing and screeching for you not to move away. He remembers your parents dragging you away as his parents held him back, your figure slowly fading in with the bubbles. He hasn’t seen you since, so imagine his surprise when he receives a letter from his parents saying your family has moved back along with a photo of you. 

He’s never been so excited to go home for spring break, you’re back…you’re home. And here he is stuck at school while you're just a dive away. As he tried to focus on his studies, you were now permanently stuck in the back of his head. The photo of you sits on his desk, a beacon of what waits for him after midterms. 

“You seem unusually happy, Jade,” Azul says as stands in the doorway watching Jade pack his bag, “is it because they’re back?” 

Jade snickers as the thought of seeing you once again fills his brain, but this meeting won’t be the same. You and him aren’t the same people as you were 10 years ago. He’s so excited to see how you’ve blossomed in the time you were away from each other.

Jade couldn’t contain his smile when he saw you waiting on the other side of the mirror. He would have been the first to greet you if it wasn’t for Floyd jumping you into a surprise hug. Once Floyd was finally off of you, Jade was finally able to speak to you once again. 

“It’s good to see you again Jade,” you smile at him oh-so softly, “I’ve missed you.” You’re so fucking gorgeous, you look so different than the last time he saw you. 

“Now, don’t you look breathtaking,” Jade smiles, corking his head to the side. You don’t even know that your small giggles make his heart do flips. 

“Now tell me, Jade,” you say, swimming ever so close to him, “what have you been up to while I was away? “

Azul Ashengrotto (Different Schools) 

Azul loves the school’s open cultural festival for several reasons. One, the Monstro Lounge does wonderfully during the three days that the event is taking place. Nothing screams profit quite like parents wanting a quiet, relaxing place to lecture their kids about their grades. 

And that plays into his second reason too well, kids will do anything to get rid of their parents for a few hours. The contracts just keep rolling in for Azul as these kids sell themselves to him just to keep their parents busy and away from them. 

As the Octavinelle student mans the lounge, Azul is left in his office. His leg bounced anxiously for his third reason to love the school festival to arrive. Parents aren’t the only crowd the cultural festival attracts, students from other schools flock to see the wonders that Night Raven College has to offer. 

Oh, how Azul misses you. He misses the way you smile, the way you shake your hands when you get excited, the way your lips…god. He misses you so bad. With a huff, Azul brushes his hair out of his face and fixes his glasses to check his phone. 

“I’m so lost right now, I can’t believe your school is this big”

“Wait…”

“Nevermind I found the Portal room, see you soon”

Is it normal to be sweating this much, it's only been a few months since he last saw you in person, only a few days since you last talked on the phone, and only a few seconds since you last texted. He can’t honestly be this nervous to see you again. What happened to cool, suave businessman Azul? The Azul that can smoothly talk his way into the best outcomes for himself. Who is this nervous mess?

“YOOOOO! AZULLLLLL,” the door slams open, with no regard for Azul’s privacy

Damn it, Floyd…

“Floyd, what have we discussed about knocking before opening the door,” Azul grits through his teeth while fixing his crooked glasses. Floyd gives nothing more than a shrug before leaving the room. 

“It’s nice to see you again too, Azul,” you pout mischievously, fanning offense that your dearest octo hasn’t greeted you. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, why don’t you close the door so we may have some privacy while we…chat.”

Leona Kingscholar (Lost Contact)

Leona is a lot of things; smart, cunning, handsome, regal, but if there's one thing he isn't, it's communicative. This man can not keep a relationship running for the life of him. If you aren’t in front of him every day, Leona will just forget you exist. He doesn’t think anyone is deserving of constant contact with him. 

They should be the ones to reach out to him, not the other way around. So when your letters stopped coming in, he was…surprised. You have always carried the conversation in your guy’s relationship so for you to suddenly stop is out of the normal. 

Are you angry with him? Have you found someone else more worth your time?

Impossible there is no one more worth your time than the Leona Kingscholar. You must have forgotten to mail your letter in or the post must have lost it. He’ll have Ruggie go check your letter tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that until you come to your senses and mail that damn thing.

One, Two, Three damn weeks and no letter from you at all. As much as Leona thinks that it doesn’t affect him, the members can tell he’s irritated. If you ask Ruggie, he’ll say he’s seen Leona writing something at his desk and then immediately turning it to dust when he notices Ruggie’s in the room.

Oh, but Ruggie knew everything, he knew that if you stopped writing Leona he’d fall into such disarray. As much as Leon will deny it, Leona adores your letters and keeps them safely stored away in his desk for his eyes only. Ruggie’s been secretly keeping the letter you’ve been sending just to see how long it would take for Leona’s pride to break for you. 

Three and a half weeks is all it took. 

Leona catches Ruggie in the early morning (a time Ruggie thought Leona would never be up at) and hands him a neatly wax-sealed letter and simply instructs him to “make sure this makes it where it needs to go.” He also hands Ruggie a 5,000 Grimm bill and walks away. 

You bet your sorry ass Ruggie hauled him to the post to deliver the letter. 

And just like that, communication between you and Leona continued. And if you squint real hard, you can even see the faintest of smiles when he receives a new letter from you. 

He can’t wait for spring break.

[yelenasdiary]

I’m thinking about pervy prison guard Natasha (who has a dick) and innocent!r, who got framed and Natasha takes an interest in her and just has to protect her but y’know you have to pay her back in different methods, I hope you can write this ^_^

Number One Rule

Pairing: Pervy Prison Guard! Natasha x Innocent Fem! Reader

Summary: After being framed and sent to prison, one guard takes an interest in you and offers you protection from other inmates, of course with a catch.

Slightly Rough Smut | Angst | Natasha has a penis | Language Warning | Mentions of Murder, Drugs & Physical Violence | Mentions of Masturbation | Slight Degradation | Oral (both receiving) | Nipple play | Unprotected Sex | Loss of Virginity | 2.8K | 18+ Minors DNI! 

AC: I think I have a new obsession! Thank you for sending this, I hope you enjoy it x!

Never in a million years did you think you'd be in a prison cell crying yourself to sleep every night. Nobody believed you, that you didn't commit the murder you were framed for and now here you were, in a cell with your cell mate on the top bunk snoring loud enough to drain out your sobs. The nights where harder than the day, you felt more alone at night and too scared to fall asleep. 

The other women took a liking to you but not in the way you hoped. You were fresh meat, somebody they would use to get drugs into the prison to save their own backsides from being caught, the newbie they could throw around and get to do anything they wanted because you didn't want to get hurt. You just wanted to stick to yourself and serve your sentence while trying your best to clear your name from the inside. 

It had only been a month since you arrived, and things were only getting harder. You've been beaten one too many times already, just the women's way of 'welcoming' you to the unit and who to be scared of and for them, it worked. You never left your cell unless you knew there were guards walking the halls or you were forced too by them, but there was one guard that seemed to take an extra liking to you. 

Miss Romanoff. Probably the only guard that was kind, all the others had this front about them but it was a prison, nobody was supposed to be nice. Miss Romanoff began standing close by your cell and everywhere you looked she was there. What you weren't aware of was the hidden camera in the showers that gave the guard the perfect view of you in every single inch. When she went home, she'd watch the playbacks of you in the shower, washing your body with the crappy soup you were given, watching the way you moved your hands all around your body while she stroked her cock just wishing she could take you right there. 

Each morning after breakfast, inmates were allowed to call their loved ones for 30 minutes, all but you as it seemed. As you were lining up, other inmates pushed in front, pushing you further and further to the back of the line until you eventually snapped. 

"Hey! the back of the line" you spat at one of the inmates who turned to face you and chuckled, "Does it look like I give a fuck where the back of the line is?" she replied, shoving you harshly into the cold, brick wall as she laughed at you. 

"I mean it! You guys do this shit to be every fucking day, I've had enough!" 

"Check this out, the newbie has had enough guys!" the criminal laughed once more before shoving you once again, this time harder. You knew your next move wasn't a good idea but you're only human who could take so much. You pushed yourself off the wall and lunged at the inmate, punching her in the face before you had realized what you'd done. "You stupid, stupid BITCH!" the woman spat before lunging at you with her fist ready to return the punch you had just delivered her.

You closed your eyes and prepared yourself for the harm you were in but to your surprise the woman's fist was caught by a guard. "Get back to your units, all of you! Call time is off!" Miss Romanoff announced, the room erupted with groans as the woman spat insults to you on their way out, some kicking the wall to show their anger. 

"You're dead meat, newbie!" one woman whispered as she walked by you. 

You sighed and turned on your heels to walk out, only to be stopped by the guard. "Not you, Y/n. You're coming with me" she said, gently taking you by the arm and giving you a light push to continue walking.

To the others, it looked like you were in trouble and on your way to 'the box'. A cell of isolation, no contact with anybody but staff, no outside time, nothing. Just you in a cell for as long as they wanted.

"Miss, I'm sorry. I got angry and I shouldn't have punched her" you spoke, trying not to breakdown in the hands of the guard. "After you" she opened the door to a room you'd never seen before, hesitantly you stepped foot in the room before the red headed guard closed the door behind you both. "W-what is happening?" you asked in a scared tone. Nobody was allowed in the boiler room, not even staff unless authorized. 

"We're going to have a little chat" she smiled softly, making you both walk a little further away from the door. "I..I p-promise I won't do it again, please don't hurt me" you begged, scared that the woman was going to beat you like you'd heard many times on the news that prison guards would sometimes beat inmates when they were out of line. 

"Shh, darling. I'm not going to hurt you, like I said, we're just going to have a little chat" she replied before you both came to a stop, completely out of view if anybody were to come into the room. "You're new here, I know but you shouldn't be getting yourself into situations like that. The inmates here won't hold back on killing you over something tiny like what just happened" Miss Romanoff explained. 

"I…I know, I j-just got so sick of the bullshit they do to me every day" you admitted with a sigh, "Again, I'm really sorry" you added. 

"I can protect you" Miss Romanoff brushed off your apology, "I can make sure they don't hurt you, I'll keep you safe" she added. 

"You'd do that? B-but isn't that a bad thing? I mean, w-would they come after me even more than they are?" You looked at the guard with nothing but fear in your eyes. 

"I've been working here for years, and I've seen many scared women like you come and go, some only make it out in a body bag. You saw how quicky those inmates listened to me, doesn't that not show you that I can handle them?" 

She had a point and just the thought of having somebody looking out for you suddenly made this place seem a little more bearable. You nodded, "but why bring me here?" you asked. The guard chuckled, "because the number one rule in prison is you never do anything without giving something in return" she explained with a light smirk before she gently grabbed your hand and placed it over her bulge, "I'll look after you, if you look after me" she spoke as your eyes dropped to your hand on her clothed bulge. 

"I..I" you stuttered as you slowly looked up at her, "I've…n-never" you paused, looking away with embarrassment. Natasha smiled softly before guiding you to look at her with her thumb. "Baby, have you never had sex before?" she asked, your checks went red as you nodded slowly. "It's okay baby, we'll have fun. Now, how about you be a good girl for me and get on your knees. You're going to learn how to suck my cock real good and I'll make sure you're out of harm's way" she smiled before gently pushing you to your knees. 

Natasha unbuckled her pants, letting them fall to her knees. You could see she was already semi hard, her cock just begging to be released. "It's okay sweet baby, don't scared" she looked down at you, giving you the okay to pull her boxers down and finally freeing her cock. She was bigger than you pictured just seconds before as she pulsed in front of you, you slowly looked up at her and swallowed the lump in your throat. "I d-don't think I can make it f-fit" you stutter once more, hoping not to disappoint the guard.

"I'll guide you, now open that pretty mouth for me" she instructed. You did as told and allowed the woman of power to slide her member inside your mouth before her hands landed on your eat to guide you to start moving. Natasha moaned at the warmth of your mouth wrapped around her, she told you to swirl your tongue around her as she began to thrust her hips forward, making you take her down the back of your throat, gagging for air. 

"That's it baby, gag on my cock just like that" she moaned, throwing her head back as you wrapped a hand around at base of her cock with a tiny boost of confidence which made Natasha smirk, "good girl, you're getting the idea now" she commented as you began to stoke her cock she left go of your head and let you suck her off at your own will. 

Moans and groans left the guards lips as you grew more confident sucking her off, taking her down your throat at your own will now. "Fuck baby, I'm going to cum!" she looked down at you, noticing how you had your free hand down your pants, she smirked. "Take your shirt off baby, I want to cum all over your pretty tits" she instructed. With need, you had your shirt off and threw to the side and unclasped your bra. "They're so much prettier in person, fuck" Natasha basically drooled at the sight of you. 

"W-what?" you asked, freezing all actions as you looked up at her. 

"Oh come on baby, you don't think I haven't been protecting you since the day you came in here? I've had eyes on you every single day, everywhere" she admitted and if you weren't already so easily turned on by her moans earlier, you would've blown up at the thought of a stranger watching you. "Don't go shy on me now, I've seen how you play with yourself in the shower when everybody has left the room" Her comment made your cheeks go red once more as you looked away from the woman. 

"I heard the name you moaned once too" she added, catching your attention again. Once, by accident you moaned Miss Romanoff's name as you rubbed your clit in the shower, you were as shamed of it but never thought she knew about it. "I'm s-sorry, I just, I mean, it was an accident" you tried to make the excuse. 

"Shhh, I don't care about your excuses" she grabbed your head, forcing your mouth back around her cock. You could feel her twitching as you sucked her harder than moments before. "I knew you were a needy little slut, stop, I'm gonna cum!" she took her cock out of your mouth and jerked herself off for a few short seconds before you felt warm spurts of her cum landing on your chest, moans leaving her lips as she continued to unload herself on your bare chest. 

"Stand up, it's your turn" she smirked as she gently stroked herself. You stood up and pressed your back against the cold, hard wall as Natasha got on her knees in front of you, pulling your prison colored pants down with her. "Mmm, tell me you want this" she looked up at you after seeing the wet patch on your panties. You couldn't help but nod with need, unsure of what exactly you were agreeing to. 

Natasha pushed your legs apart slightly before pulling your panties down to your ankles, "you're so wet baby" she commented before brushing her thumb over your exposed clit. You moaned at her touch, you've never been touched before, and it felt so much better then when you'd touched yourself. 

"Please" you begged with soft eyes as you looked down at the red head, she smirked as she looked up at you. "Tell me what you want, say it" she demanded but you were too shy to say the words as you shook your head. "I can't" you replied. 

"Say it" she repeated, this time she started to pull your panties back up. 

"Please!" you begged again, "please…fu-fuck me"

Natasha smirked once more, "good girl" she commented before she placed one of your legs over her shoulder and dived into your pussy. Licking a long stripe up to your clit as you moaned once again, your hands finding her head and gently pushing her forward for more. You both knew you didn't have a lot of time for Natasha to take her time with you like she would've loved too, she ate you with hunger and need, giving you feelings, you didn't even know existed as she turned you into a moaning mess, begging her to keep going. 

"I th-think I'm going to cum!" you moaned, unsure as you were never truly able to make yourself cum. 

"Cum for me baby" Natasha looked up at you as you threw your head back once more before letting your orgasm take over your body, letting the woman's tongue taste even more of your sweetness. "Oh god!" you moaned as the woman helped you ride out your high while tweaking your hardened nipples. 

"That was better than I expected" you admitted when the woman rose back to her feet. "We're not done yet baby" Natasha took off her jacket and placed it on the ground, "on your hands and knees, I need to feel you cum around my cock" she looked back at you. 

"I don't think that's going to fit!" you replied as your eyes dropped to her hard on. 

"I think it will" she nodded for you to get on the ground. 

Natasha settled behind you, kissed down your spine as she rubbed the tip of her cock against your clit, making you moan once more. "It's going to hurt, please don't" you looked back at her with concern. "Only for a few minutes baby, don't worry, it'll feel good after, I promise" she assured you as she lined herself up with your wet pussy, "let me know when you're ready" she added. It only took a few minutes for you to remember the times when you were at home with a vibrator wishing you had a dildo to stuff inside you for that extra pleasure, you looked back at the guard "fuck me, please!" you begged while Natasha smirked as she slowly entered you. 

Your fists gripped her jacket hard as the burning pain rushed through you, Natasha stopped when she bottomed out, "you're so fucking tight baby, let me know when I can move, okay?" she lent down and kissed the back of your shoulder for comfort. After a new minute, you were comfortable enough for the guard to start giving you what you wanted. 

Natasha started thrusting slowly, letting you adjust to the feeling of having her inside you as you moaned, she grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you up against her. "You're mine now" she whispered before she began to fuck into you harder, moaning at the way you clenched around her. 

You were lucky the boiler room was naturally loud enough to cover the sounds of Natasha's thighs slapping against you and your moans begging her to fucking you harder. "God baby! Keep clenching me like that and I'll cum!" she commented as you were close to your orgasm. "D-don't cum inside me! Fuck! Just keep going!" You moaned. Natasha's grip on your hips was sure to leave a mark by the next day but you didn't care, as long as she kept fucking you with this hunger she had, you'd let her do anything. 

With one hand, Natasha reached for your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as you did your best to cover your screams as you came around her cock, "fuck!! It's too much!!" you moaned as the woman kept fucking you, chuckling at your state. "You can cum for me baby" she commented as she continued to hit that one spot that made your eyes roll back, "'s too much!" You moaned once again before you realized you were cumming once again, almost numb from the overstimulation. 

Natasha pulled out quickly before unloading on your lower back, "God baby!" she moaned while you gently allowed yourself to lay completely flat on her jacket, completely fucked out. The woman laid down next to you as she caught her breath, "they won't bother you again, I'll make sure of it" she looked to you. 

You nodded, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep but she had to return you to your unit before headcount. "I would usually look after you, but I can't, not here. I'll take you back to your cell and you can get your things then I'll take you to the showers and you can have one without anybody coming in" she added, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. "Thank you, Miss Romanoff" you smiled tiredly. 

"When nobody's around, call me Natasha" she replied.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova | @blackwidow-3 | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @ahintofchaos | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | @imnotslouching | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @marvel-madnessx | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @natashaswife4125 | @katiemay-025 | @aphrcdtes | @romanoffs-widow | @natsxwife | @maria-403 | 

If you don't want to be on the taglist for smut related fics, please let me know 💖

[happyhauntt]

— april fic recs, brought to you by happyhauntt.

it's that time again! a wee fic rec post for a few of the fics i read in april that altered my brain chemistry!! i've put a lil comment next to each rec because honestly writers don't get praised enough for their work these days and i wanted to show my appreciation for these talented souls!!

criminal minds.

➡ spencer reid.

in every other life by @irndad. notes: adorableness incarnate honestly.

trouble almost all my life series by @januaryembrs. notes: might honestly have to put this on every masterlist til the end of time.

forgiven by @reiding-writing. notes: um HOW DARE YOU i sobbed my way through this

grishaverse.

➡ kaz brekker.

breakfast by @sophierequests. notes: look i'm a simple human i see badass characters and i fall in love

➡ jesper fahey.

i'm your gal by @atlabeth. notes: NOT ENOUGH JESPER FICS and this one is GLORIOUS

star wars.

➡ poe dameron.

the f-word by @the-little-ewok. notes: i reread this constantly pls it's so good

moon knight.

➡ marc spector.

i should've been there by @januaryembrs. notes: not em out here ruining my life and making me sob AGAIN you simply never miss

9-1-1.

➡ evan buckley.

take my hand by @redocity. notes: cute cute cute cute cute

emergency room by redocity. notes: the ANGST i feel well-fed

won't say i'm falling by @borntobewondering. notes: this was DELICIOUS

➡ buck / eddie.

a bleeding sun on a silver screen by @hoediaz / rarakiplin on ao3. notes: i was fully choking back sobs while reading this. i binged this fic in less than 24 hours and it has changed something fundamental inside me. i will never be the same person again. i'm billing you for my therapy.

good luck, babe by @hattalove. notes: i cackled my way through this, potentially the funniest shit ever.

hate to say i spent it all on masquerades by hattalove. notes: i sobbed and sobbed and sobbed while reading this. this fic is everything to me, it should be required reading for all my friends who want to understand me, it is beautiful and magical and i want it tattooed on my face.

don't wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck / fleetinghearts on ao3. notes: sheer adorableness i will well recover from this!!!!

tried and true blue by shitouttabuck / fleetinghearts on ao3. notes: SCREAMING I'M SCREAMING I MAY NEVER STOP SCREAMING

like a dog with a bird at your door by shitouttabuck / fleeting hearts on ao3. notes: iconic. truly iconic. quite possibly one of my fav fics ever written.

let the world have its way with you by shitouttabuck / fleeting hearts on ao3. notes: you don't understand how hard it was not to include every single one of shitouttabuck's fics on this list and there will almost certainly be more in future but i just want them tattooed on my forehead i feel insane

i have dreams where i kiss you and it's pink by shitouttabuck / fleeting hearts on ao3. notes: the cutest and i mean THE CUTEST shit ever

all my shattered oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: i sobbed. i sobbed so hard i think i burst something honestly. everything from this author is immaculate but THIS is the holy fuckin grail and i will truly never be the same again.

let my ink stain your pages by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: castle au CASTLE AU i'm a sucker for a castle au and this is EVERYTHING

even in winter there is eranthis by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: i think about this fic daily.

your love is an oil slick by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: this is everything this is EVERYTHING to me i will reread this weekly for the rest of my life

even the darkest night by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: stardust au STARDUST AU aka my favourite movie and my favourite ship combined into a fuckin masterpiece

curl up in my heart and let me keep you by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: soft sweet my brain is mushy and i adore this

hoping it gets to you by @bucktommys / hammersmiths on ao3. notes: cute adorable stunning MAGNIFICENT

you're my whole house by @/bucktommys / hammersmiths on ao3. notes: THIS FIC OUT HERE MAKIN ME SQUEAL AND KICK MY LEGS

left unsaid by c_m2 on ao3. notes: this is mcfuckin adorable i'm crying buck deserves everything in the world

say yes to heaven by dylaesthetics on ao3. notes: okay full disclosure this made me cry so much i threw up. also it hit some pretty intense trauma for me. still so glad i read it because it was also kinda healing. and i want everyone else to suffer like i have because fuck i suffered.

if i need to rearrange my particles, i will for you by dylaesthetics on ao3. notes: author you will always be famous bc you're knocking my emotional stability OUTTA THE PARK

honestly, truly, completely by dylaesthetics on ao3. notes: simply fuckin adorable

feels like magic by 42hrb on ao3. notes: there's nothing i adore more than an urban fantasy au and this one is EXQUISITE

fallin' into your ocean eyes by princessfbi on ao3. notes: okay every part of this au is absolutely fuckin perfection i am so deeply in love with it

until now by tearsthissideofheaven on ao3. notes: a reincarnation au??? it's like you know how to ruin my life

if i never hear your voice again by @actualalligator. notes: disability rep!!!! brilliant writing!!!!

life sure can try to put love through it by @capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: ahahaha ruin my life why don't you

sometimes its hard to see what the future holds by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: olympics buddie au??? didn't know i wanted it but now i can't live without it

all good things come to an end (but it's not the end) by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: i will, in fact, devour every buddie!fwb au ever written but this one is especially great

you smiled and it was the most beautiful thing that I'd ever seen by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: coffee shop!buddie have become everything to me wdym

it's funny 'cause i've always dreamed of me and you by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: yes i did sob my heart out reading this and i'll do it again

'cause darling, you're the one by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: icymi i think this author is the best author to ever exist and i want to devour everything they write forever

i don't think that we should have friendly sex, anymore by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: !!!!!!! that's it that's the note. brain: faye you can't put this many fics by the same author on one masterlist. faye: bET-

still i call it magic (when i'm next to you) by @clusterbuck / lecornergirl on ao3. notes: urban fantasy is, in fact, my shit.

(this kiss is) something i can't resist by @/clusterbuck / lecornergirl on ao3. notes: NO BC THIS HAD ME CACKLING AND ALSO IT'S BRILLIANT

give me five more minutes, baby (i'm not finished loving you) by @/clusterbuck / lecornergirl on ao3. notes: fake dating or immaculate writing??? both

cuffing season by @/clusterbuck / lecornergirl on ao3. notes: i am still laughing at this and i may never stop

[midnightscramble]

unsure if you’ve already been asked this or it’s planned but would love to see a part 3 for good luck, maid! if you’re open to it 😆 not picky about what’s in the plot but might be cool to get a situation that forces either one to confess their attractions to each other ☺️

Good Luck, Maid! Part 3 (Violet Bridgeton x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

The Masterlist

Author’s Note: I only write based on requests left in my inbox, this is the first formal request, and thank goodness for it, I was itching to write more for Violet! Thanks for the detailed ask (if it's not to your liking feel free to request again, don't be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: Violet implores a friend to find out the circumstances around Y/n's previous employment. Y/n and Violet have another accidental meeting late at night. Violet's feelings manifest.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, touch starved Violet, fingering (Violet receiving), technically they do it in public, period typical homophobia, brief discussion of skewed power dynamics, no Beta read

Lady Danbury had been quick to agree to Violet's request for tea, and by midday they sat across from each other in the Danbury estate's drawing room.

After the exchange of usual pleasantries and talk of bubbling gossip around the Ton, Lady Danbury had surmised the true purpose of their meeting. "I take it you are ready to discuss the unspeakable?" Palming her cane in one hand and delicately bringing the teacup to her lips, Agatha raised her eyebrows in her usual prompting fashion.

Violet suddenly went to stand. Wringing her hands together she walked towards the piano, admiring the vase of flowers which sat upon it. She nervously rearranged them and cleared her throat, "Yes, it seems as though I have developed uh, how do I phrase this..." Violet turned to look at her. Patient as ever, Lady Danbury raised her chin and let a soft smile grace her lips.

"I have developed feelings for a member of my staff."

Lady Danbury threw her head back and cackled in response, "By the way you were behaving, I had thought you were going to say you had developed feelings for a criminal of some kind. To have feelings for a member of staff, while frowned upon publicly, is surprisingly common. Nothing to be embarrassed about, Dear." It never ceased to surprise her the shame that Violet Bridgerton would inflict upon herself for being like the rest of high society.

Inhaling through her nose and feeling her eyes start to sting, Violet lowered her gaze to the ground, "And if these feelings were criminal, then what, Agatha?"

Humming, Lady Danbury pondered the question. "You are no criminal, Violet..." She put her teacup on it's dish. Sitting forward with both hands on her cane, she motioned for Violet to sit on the couch across from her.

Violet sat and smoothed her dress as Lady Danbury openly stared at her. "Violet, do you mean to tell me that you are experiencing a liking of the fairer sex?"

By instinct, Violet opened her mouth to deny such a notion and then swallowed the words before they could escape, and instead answered with a simple "Yes." The woman across from her lent back in consideration. Briefly, they sat in silence.

"You are right. In this country, if you were to even speak of such things, it would be reprehensible by the law. However... in this house, such is not the case," she reached forward and grabbed Violet's hand, "You are no criminal to me, Violet, regardless of what society may say."

Choking on a sob, Violet covered her mouth with her free hand. "Thank you, Agatha. You have no idea how dear you are to me," she sniffled and tried to collect herself, "I was worried you would not find me suitable for your company once I told you."

Releasing her grip on Violet's, Lady Danbury spoke light heartedly "Nonsense. You may worry no more. Now, tell me, who has caught your eye?" Violet chuckled lightly, of course the woman would not be concerned with the controversy of the matter at hand, always more keen to hear the details of romance.

"Eloise's maid, we had to let go of mine, and Miss Y/n replaced her" Her cheeks tinted pink as she continued, "Just last night we had an encounter in the kitchen. I was restless and wandering and there she was. We spoke and it was as if we really saw each other. By the way she looked at me, it was almost as if she could see through me."

"And you are sure she was not looking through your night dress?" Lady Danbury laughed at Violet's Gasp.

"Oh Agatha, you are terrible," Violet swatted at Lady Danbury and they fell into a fit of laughter.

Once they regained composure Lady Danbury wondered out loud, "You seem quite taken with her, and with such haste, how is that possible?" Violet nodded in understanding, she had been wondering the same thing herself.

"I can't be sure, I find myself thinking of her frequently. It has become undeniable. In fact, I find myself concerned with her well being..." Violet looked imploringly at her friend, "Particularly her past."

Narrowing her eyes at Violet's words, Lady Danbury felt a smugness settle within her. She knew that Violet was tempting her with a challenge, and oh, how she loved to play games. But of course, this was mostly to help quell Violet's anxieties, not flex her own societal prowess.

"What do you know of her already"

...

The sun had set in the Ton by the time Violet returned home. The chilled night air prompted the fireplaces to be lit and extra blankets to be spread across beds. Although satisfied with her day and comforted by the support of her friend, Violet was still buzzing with anxious energy.

Knowing she would be tired the next day if she did not seek rest soon, she decided to brave the cold wood floors with bare feet in an effort to get to the study. She would read herself to exhaustion if she had to. Descending the grand stairs she squinted through the darkness, overhearing giggles coming from another corridor. Focusing, she made the voices out to be Hyacinth and Gregory, no doubt snooping through the letters that Colin had sent Anthony about his travels. She smiled softly, and listened to their childish joy, until the sound of the study door creaking open forced her to veer down the opposing hallway.

Colliding with something, she gasped. Strong hands gripped her waist, and they tumbled towards the wall as her own hands landed upon lean shoulders. Y/n pulled Violet flush against her, in an effort to keep them both from falling. With a shaky release of breath and heart beating out of her chest, Violet's eyes flickered across Y/n's face.

As Y/n went to move away, Violet's grip tightened, her fingers flexing into the material of Y/n's uniform as she steadied herself. Her heartbeat had slowed slightly, but not settled as the excitement of their position dawned upon her.

The woman's eyes took in the pink dusting of Violet's cheeks and quickly dilating pupils. Violet's hands shook as she slid them across Y/n's shoulders and toward her neck. With bated breath she waited for a response of any kind. Would Y/n push her off, tell her she was as bad as the Lord she worked for before, and leave the Ton in fear of Violet ruining her? Before her thoughts could spiral anymore, she felt Y/n's hold on her waist loosen and her hands migrated up towards the sides of her breast, stopping before making contact. With the slightest of pressure on her ribcage, she was guided backwards a few inches until she was pressed against the wall.

Shooting forward, she brought their mouths together. Every thing she had imagined in no way measured up to the soft caress of Y/n's lips against her own. With one hand she cradled the side of Y/n's face, smoothing the apple of her cheek with her thumb as she tried to commit the very feel of the woman to her memory. Her other hand grasped at her neck like an anchor.

With greater confidence, Y/n snaked her hand inward and cusped the woman's breast, causing Violet to release a gasp into the kiss. She slowly swiped her tongue across Violet's lower lip and gently prodded into her mouth. Y/n ran her thumb over Violet's raised nipple, feeling it tighten at her ministrations.

Despite the cold night air, Violet's skin was hot to the touch and the all too familiar warmth of arousal grew in her lower belly. Her legs clenched together in need as she tried to relieve the aching. Once Y/n noticed Violet's squirming she broke the kiss and lowered herself slightly to lick and suck at Violet's neck. Perfectly positioned as to not break contact, Y/n dropped her hands to Violet's legs. Through the soft fabric of her nighty, Y/n felt her way from the outside of Violet's leg to the inner crease of where they strongly pressed together. She swiftly parted them with force, filling the space with her own leg. Violet sighed heavily and let her head thud against the wall as she tried to catch her breath. Not allowing the woman a moment of reprieve, Y/n's hands wrapped around her waist and forced her upon her leg. Violet's hips involuntarily bucked at the first contact, and a hearty moan clawed its way out of her throat.

Overwhelmed by the sensation, she dropped her forehead to Y/n's shoulder and breathed heavily. She could feel the slick of her arousal cling to her night dress at the point where Y/n's leg pressed into her. She could hardly believe herself, rutting into the other woman like a wild animal, out in the open, with only the protection of darkness. She flushed at her own indecency. Y/n tugged on her nightgown, causing her breasts to become exposed. Her head shot up as she quickly searched the hall, it was useless, the pitch black of night was thicker than tar. Lips enclosed around her nipple, licking softly at the peak and then tugging it sharply with teeth. She yelped and immediately bit into Y/n's shoulder to quiet herself. Breathing through her nose, she felt Y/n's fingertips drag the bottom of her nightgown up towards her. With great anticipation, she felt Y/n gently remove her leg from between her thighs and continue the slow drag of fabric upwards.

She raised her head and met the other woman's eyes, "Please, touch me, I-" Y/n's hand cupped her radiating sex and she ground the heal of her palm into the Violet's clit and traced the opening of her lips. Not knowing what to do with herself, she laid soft kisses on the column of Y/n throat, mewling slightly as Y/n's fingers entered her wetness. Her eyes shut as Y/n rhythmically entered her, her own clenching creating a delectable drag when Y/n removed her fingers.

"Ohh, please, Y/n please," Violet begged in a whisper. She whimpered as Y/n's pace increased and her fingers started to curl into her as if she were searching for something. And indeed she was, Y/n felt for the spongy texture of her walls and ran her finger tips against it with pressure. Violet nearly choked at the sensation, even with all her experiences with Edmund, she had never felt such delight. Her legs closed, as if she were worried Y/n would suddenly remove herself. Violet's mind became hazy as she lost herself in their love making. She could feel Y/n everywhere, Y/n's mouth had consumed her entirely, her long fingers had graced her insides, and she was sure that the woman had somehow penetrated her mind.

Her hips began to stutter and Y/n could tell she was close. She watched Violet's face contort in pleasure as she played her like an instrument and listened for the beautiful music she emitted. Her gasps and whines were enough encouragement for Y/n to double her efforts and add another finger. Violet's back arched and Y/n could feel her walls quake with her release. Slowing her ministrations, she continued to guide her through the entirety of her completion.

Once she was sure Violet had finished, Y/n gently removed her fingers but kept one hand flush with her still pulsing sex and the other moved hair out of her face. Violet looked at her owlishly, face burning from the activity. She looked something out of the paintings that her and Lady Danbury had par-oozed the day she admitted her desperation for touch; breasts proudly displayed and nipples now raised by the cool air, skin reddened with arousal and hair tousled from the friction of the wall.

"We should go to my room, and talk," Violet offered breathlessly.

...

Back in the safety of her room, Violet offered Y/n a nightgown to change into. Sitting on the bed, she watched as Y/n undressed in front of her. All the bravado she had moments ago vanished, and she sat on her hands to keep herself from reaching out. When the other woman finished changing, Violet opened the bed invitingly, "Since I have no obligations tomorrow and you are the only one permitted to enter my room, you can stay the night and we will be unbothered." She smiled softly and Y/n smiled back.

Her heart fluttered with contentment as Y/n climbed into bed and opened her arms to the other woman. With her head laid on Y/n's chest, Violet released a deep breath as she settled. Her eyes began to close in relaxation until a thought crossed her mind, "was that your first time with a woman?"

"No," Violets chest tightened and her heart picked up as she listened intently, "The last house I worked for, the Lady and I became close..." Their earlier conversation came to the forefront of Violet's mind as this new information clicked into place. It was not a Lord per say who had misused Y/n, but a Lady. A Lady who Y/n undoubtedly got caught with and thus came the termination of her employment.

Her hand went to Y/n's, "It is quite a miracle you are here today," Violet thanked her guardian angels for bringing Y/n safely to her. Of all the things that could have happened to Y/n, for her to only lose a job rather than her head was an act of divine intervention.

"It is, it really is. I heard that the Lord of the house had actually passed recently, and now there are only three people who know this secret, including you and I." Violet hummed, her eyes slipped closed and right before sleep took her an offhanded thought drifted through her mind, she vindictively wished that number would be reduced to two.

...

Violet and Y/n awoke as a knock sounded on Violet's door. Startled, Y/n leapt out of bed, ducked towards the ground and shimmied underneath it. Violet's heart raced as she dawned a robe and opened it just a crack.

Before her stood Hyacinth with a letter in hand, "Mama, you have been asleep all day," she drawled, "I know you haven't been sleeping well, however I figured you should sleep no longer as we have received word," the young girl shoved the letter towards her mother, "that Colin and Penelope will be returning from their honeymoon this afternoon."

"Oh, thank you Hyacinth-"

"And I took it upon myself to invite the Featheringtons over to celebrate their arrival. It is rather perfect timing, Eloise and Francesca are yet to leave so we will have ample conversation. I have alerted the staff of all preparations needed, don't worry a thing Mama," She leaned forward and kissed her mom on the cheek before skipping off. Violet scoffed and closed her door.

"It turns out I do have obligations." The women laughed at Hyacinth's behavior. Y/n got out from under the bed, and immediately started to arrange Violet's outfit for the day.

...

Calling hour arrived and Lady Danbury swiftly made her way through the long halls of the Bridgerton estate. Her heels struck menacingly against the wood floors. The butler guiding her to the drawing room felt as though if he did not keep pace with her, she would strike him with her cane.

“Lady Bridgerton you have a caller, the fine Lady Danbury is here.”

“Let her right in, thank you.” Violet stood from the couch and clasped her hands in front of her. She was sure her friend would have quite the shock when she told her of last night’s tryst with Y/n. The moment Lady Danbury had crossed the threshold, Violet could tell the woman was eager to speak.

“Violet, thank goodness I have caught you alone. I found out about your...friend's previous employment.” Violet cocked her head to the side, she had such a blissful morning with Y/n that she had nearly forgotten about the wild goose chase she had sent Lady Danbury on.

"Oh, what did you discover."

"She was working for the-" a footman cleared his throat as he entered the drawing room.

"My Lady, the Featheringtons have arrived." He announced. Violet nodded and waited for him to exit before resuming the conversation.

"You were saying Agatha?"

"Well that’s just it. The Featheringtons."

[rodolfoparras]

Corruption kink with Noir where he's so gentlemanly and polite and we (being the pervert we are) wanna crack that surface and make him so horny and drunk on pleasure he can't think clearly enough to be a gentleman anymore

Lights, Camera, Action

Pairing: Spider-Man Noir x Top Male Reader

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, Sub!Noir, Dom! Male reader, corruption kink, accidental voyeurism, alluded gun play, power dynamics (Noir’s a detective, reader is a criminal), riding, rimming, alluded oral sex, non consensual recording

A/N: corruption kink is on my wont write list since it’s not really my thing but I’m ok with this pair’s dynamic so I decided to give this a try (and added my own little spin to this)! However pls make sure to read my list before requesting! Also I tried a different style of writing here since I really wanted to expand on the elements mentioned in Detective’s work. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Ever since Noir entered the police academy he’s dreamt of making a name for himself.

He just never thought it would be this way, sat in front of three burley men known as disciplinary officers, watching what’s supposed to be interrogation tapes but were anything but that.

“This is detective Noir at New York Police department. Today’s date is Wednesday, March 13th 1934. The time is 08:45 AM. This will be a recorded conversation with…..”

It’s clear that Noir’s nervous, you can hear it in his voice, can see it in the way he’s constantly straightening out his uniform, even in the way he’s adjusting his glasses and rearranging things on the table.

You’re seated opposite to him and despite the bright orange uniform you’re wearing and the cuffs around your wrists, you’re smiling while listening to him.

“Could you tell me a bit about where you were…”

When Noir first got tasked with this job, he couldn’t believe his ear.

He’d just graduated from the police academy, barely made a place for himself at the station before he’d been assigned to deal with the most prominent criminal plaguing the city.

He was very well aware of the name you’ve made for yourself, reminded himself even to be careful when starting to work on your case.

He just never thought things would turn out this way.

The tape freezes for just a second before it starts playing again, this time showing Noir perched on your lap, uniform long discarded onto the floor and voice hoarse as he desperately tries to make himself cum.

“Please please” Noir sobs out while practically bouncing on your cock.

You’re still sat in your chair, wearing the very same overalls as before just with your bottom half pulled down to expose your cock. Your arms are still cuffed but pulled behind your back and you’re sporting the very same grin on your face while facing the camera lens.

“You can do it doll, I know you can” you say, eyes half lidded and mouth agape, sounding relaxed as ever as if you didn’t have the head detective of your case riding your dick.

And really that’s all it takes for Noir to start unraveling, coming with a cry spilling all over your overalls and his abdomen.

The recording’s abruptly cut off, his pulse is roaring in his ears, shaky breathes escaping his lips as he scrambles his brain for something to say.

But just as he’s about to say something, another tape starts playing

You’re in the same room as before but this time Noir’s sat on the table rather than on the chair. He appears much more confident, arms folded over his chest and looking down at the notes next to him.

So far the interrogations are going well , everyone’s amazed with just how much information the newbie is able to get. When asked about it Noir says that confidence is key, you can even see it oozing from him in the recordings.

But this is just a facade. His arms are folded over his chest to hide the sweat stains. He’s sat on the table in hopes of disguising the tent he’s sporting in his pants while staring down at his notes to avoid your burning gaze.

“Alright, we talked briefly about….”

You’re still sitting in the same chair, looking just as relaxed as before, even appearing intrigued with the interrogation or rather the interrogator.

Your cuffed hands are resting on the table, the overalls you’re wearing clearly straining as you lean closer to him, while your eyes trail along the length of his body.

Once again the tape freezes before it starts playing again, this time showing Noir with his ass up in the air, chest flush against the table. His hands are behind his back, fingers parting his cheeks while you’re tonguing his puckered hole.

“Please please-” Noir slurs out while erratically bucking up against your mouth.

“Tell me what you want pretty,” you say as you pull away and he almost sobs at the loss of contact.

“Let me cum, please, please I need it,”

The camera’s a bit further away, video lacking color but it doesn’t take much to see he’s got flushed cheeks, drool dripping down his chin as he desperately chases his release.

Theres a string of words he wants to say as an officer turn off the tape, a flux of emotions bubbling up in his gut as he takes in the disgusted expressions of the people that once admired him , a burning need to walk up and take the tape away as he digs his nails into the palms of his hand but before he can do so the officer puts in another one.

There’s no video, only an audio recording, no introduction this time around, no question being read out loud. It’s almost like the people aren’t even aware that they’re being recorded.

That’s when it hits him, they must’ve secretly been recording you and him. They being the police squad. They had started to get suspicious, huge parts of the footage from the interrogations had started to go missing, suspicions rose even more when he had requested to stop all recordings so they had to decide the bug the room while Noir was holding an interrogation.

Hushed words sound through the speaker, then there’s the sound of something shuffling around, accompanied with squelching before he hears you speaking.

“Fuck, you wouldn’t even care if you got your head blown off huh?” You say whilst laughing hysterically in disbelief.

There’s more squelching sounds, more shuffling around, a groan leaving your lips that’s being picked up by the mic.

“Just like that keep going ah fuck!,”

His gaze meets the officers’ as he hears you say

“What would the officers think if they saw you like this?”

[brujahinaskirt]

Okay, I obviously made the above post as a leetle joke, but since it's getting not insignificant traction, I do want to offer a more serious note.

I love this about Arthur. It's probably my favorite thing about him, but let me use this fresh new RDR2 meta post to clarify exactly what I mean. Despite the aspects of his personality & appearance that are traditionally hypermasculine, and despite how often he is annoyed with people (especially incompetents or people who meddle with his plans), Arthur is decidedly NOT annoyed by the social performance of femininity or by traits that are/were frequently stereotyped as feminine. Ever. Regardless of subject. I might go so far as to say he seems to canonically prefer hanging out with women and with "feminine" men.

Your long-winded, bullet-pointed analysis is below!

The Girls. Most noticeably, Arthur actually sits down to talk with and actively confides in the camp Girls (Tilly, Mary-Beth, Karen) more than anyone else around. These three are the most traditionally "girly" (single, 20s, active, pretty, unattached, highly social, feminine, chatty) members of the gang, though of course they are still criminals and don't perfectly adhere to all period-typical standards of feminine comportment. He doesn't mock the girls** like he sometimes does with other auxiliary members of the gang (like Uncle and Pearson, playful or not). Notably, he doesn't even gently tease Mary-Beth for writing her "silly" romance novels, a highly feminized hobby which she speaks about in a self-depreciating manner, much like Arthur speaks about his own artistic hobbies. Rather, he talks to her about writing like a peer and encourages her to write more by going out of his way to get her a nice pen. Crucially, there is no canon romantic or sexual interest in any of the girls on Arthur's behalf. He just feels the most comfortable in their company and seems to value their advice/opinions on life the most. To me, this is much stronger proof than his forever-burning torch for the cultured & ladylike Mary, which is (or was once) rooted in romantic desire. ** Unless the player persists in Antagonizing them, and these lines (while sometimes shockingly cruel and offhandedly sexual in nature; see Arthur teasing Tilly about pursuing Javier) are largely about goading them for laziness or, in Karen's case, her alcoholism. That said, many of the Antagonize lines strike me as clumsily tacked-on & poorly rooted in canon, which could indicate: (1) an Arthur who is deliberately trying to be disruptive (a generous interpretation), or (2) writers instructed to add throwaway content that will make a certain type of childishly misanthropic gamer (think 13 y.o. boys) squeal in glee with relatively low impact on the overall story.

Campmates. Following the above point... who doesn't Arthur hang out with much? The manly men of the gang; the very people social mores suggest he ought to be hanging out with. Bill, Micah, Joe, Cleet, and even Dutch. (To some extent, this includes John and Sean, but I'd say John sort of lives at the edges of gang life anyway, and Sean is, well, Sean.) Conversely, which male gang members does Arthur hang out with a lot? Sweet little bookish Lenny, a wordy, positive-energy, breezy intellectual who has just barely become an adult. Introspective, soft-voiced, long-haired Charles, who is traditionally masculine by some standards (strong, usually calm, can be standoffish) but decidedly NOT so when his appearance/demeanor is judged by the white Christian American male standards that began to dominate masculinity concepts in the later decades of the 1800s.

Algernon. Oh, my, Algernon. Arthur clearly dislikes Algernon's fancy, loud, outrageous clothing. But weirdly, he seems to like Algernon, not just tolerate him. Arthur in fact goes through significant personal discomfort to avoid hurting Algernon's feelings (the awful hat, the POST.MAN. sobbing), and he immediately says yes to having tea with him without any awareness of a coming business proposition, though half the time Arthur clearly has no fucking clue what Algernon is talking about. I am left to conclude that on some level, he just enjoys hearing Algernon talk, which is word-for-word what he says while listening to the Girls argue about romance novels ("I just like listening to you [all] talk." Hello????). I mean, for God's sake, he meets the man while he's choking to death on a nut at a fancy party, and the second thing Algernon does is tell him he looks like a guy who wears a corset. If anything was going to set off the boiling defensiveness of a dude who worships masculinity, thirty seconds with Algie would have done it.

Margaret, Mistress of Fucking Danger. It's pretty clear Arthur doesn't like Margaret. But that has little to do with Margaret's femininity & cross-dressing (this doesn't faze him at all when Charles Châtenay does it; more on that below) and everything to do with Margaret's deceptiveness and highly selective memory. It's not until the bullshittery unveils itself that Arthur starts getting visibly pissed off at Margaret. Conversely, Arthur does seem more positively disposed toward Sally Nash. (That said, this quest has a lot of problems and poorly aged lines that are depressingly easy for a politically motivated jerkoff to soundbite and miscast as Rockstar being pro-bigot. Cue 800 heterobnoxious gamerbro ARTHUR MORGAN ULTIMATE ANTI SNOWFLAKE SIGMA MALE OF THE WEST YouTube videos.)

Albert, my beloved. Rather than goading him to man up, Arthur tries to persuade Albert (whom he very obviously likes) to pick safer animal photography subjects, e.g. horses, and doesn't insult him for his lack of wilderness knowledge (an aspect of traditional manliness that is highly relevant to Arthur's lifestyle). You'd think he would tear into him for this shortcoming, given that they share so many of the same interests and passions, and IMO his genuine eagerness to serve as Albert's protector and facilitate his art is highly convincing evidence that Arthur does not necessarily view masculinity as a net positive.

Arthur is a basic goddamn boyfriend-hater. He pretty much harshly disapproves of every husband, boyfriend, male partner, etc. in the game and is very, very vocal about it... except one extremely unlikely candidate: Beau Gray. Weak, dandy artist Beau Gray, whom Arthur takes one look at and promptly hands the only gun to Penelope. Arthur is curt and impish to Beau at times, but helps him in his relationship troubles willingly (without collecting repayment), and seemingly for no other reason than the fact he can see that soft, fearful Beau is genuinely head-over-heels in love with Penelope. Is he projecting his own young love for Mary onto them? Maybe/probably, but Beau could not possibly be more different from young Arthur, and Arthur seems to believe this difference will make him a good husband for Penelope. A good husband, in Arthur's view, seems to simply be a man who ardently loves his beloved, regardless of his ability to provide for/protect her, and whose only goal in life is to live that life at her side. This is completely antithetical to mainstream late-1800s views on what constitutes a good husband and what it means to be a man.

Châtenay. Arthur shows us some of the most obvious delight and mirth he experiences in the game when he's hanging out with Charles "Allo Boys" Châtenay, who is straight up in drag a third of that time. This baffles Arthur a little, but doesn't disgust or repel him. I've written about this mission elsewhere at greater length because it is one of my favorite disasters, but it's worth mentioning here too.

Trelawny. Arthur clearly enjoys Trelawny despite his grumbly claims to the contrary. Most of these "claims" are just Arthur's established way of affectionate teasing (he does much the same with Uncle and Pearson, both of whom he genuinely likes). His authentic gripes about Trelawny are all about a perceived flightiness/lack of loyalty to the gang, not about his flamboyance. And even these gripes are half-assed, in Arthur's usual way.

Bluegills & Daisy Chains. One of the most genuine moments of softness we have with Arthur in RDR2 is when he takes Little Jack out of the camp to go fishing. Arthur's usually a much truer version of himself when he doesn't have to play the Big Bad Gang Lieutenant role, but this moment of escape is especially important, and not just because Arthur reveals his fondness for children and his natural understanding of how to talk to them. I notice this: Arthur tries to gently teach Jack about fishing, and Jack is completely fucking uninterested. Jack prefers to make flower chains for his mommy. Arthur doesn't scold him for his drifting attention or his lack of attraction to masculine past-times; on the contrary, Arthur goes out of his way to encourage and protect Jack's natural sweetness and innocence. That's a wild stance for a murdering outlaw to have re: the "next generation" of his family. Hell, I've encountered far too many 21st century dads in my own family who flip their shit when their tiny sons prefer hanging out with women & partaking in "womanly" hobbies like art, cooking, and flowers rather than hunting and fishing.

"...and be a god damn man." This seems like classic masculine bluster on the surface, but what does this keynote line mean in the context in which Arthur says it? Well, it's complicated. This statement serves as (a) Arthur's goodbye to John, (b) Arthur's final call to action for John, and (c) Arthur's last wish for his brother's life. But it certainly does not mean standing and fighting or being tough; i.e., "dying like a man." In that moment, it means abandoning all masculine bluster and revenge fantasy, and running away: leaving violence and fighting and brotherhood and all that crap behind to simply be there (alive, present) for your wife and son.

The Best Women People. Who are the best people Arthur knows, by his own crystal-clear declaration? Abigail and Sadie. Sadie's a rough-and-tumble, super-violent gunslinger and Abigail's a stubborn thief & a former sex worker (in the time Arthur has known her), but they are also, critically, two wives: the most traditional feminine role for a woman of the time period (and indeed perhaps most of human history once the concept of "wife" subsumed that of "mother"). It's also important to note that Arthur doesn't truly give up on Dutch until Dutch abandons Abigail, which serves as Arthur's point of no return. The other men left in the gang at this point specifically note that she's "just a woman" and not worth going back for. Arthur is straight-up shocked by all of this; he obviously considers her among the most worthwhile and value-having members of the gang, and certainly one of the most core members of the gang. Without any hesitation or doubt, the instant it's clear Dutch is cutting Abigail loose, Arthur declares: "That's that, then."

tl;dr: Arthur unironically prefers hanging out with women and queens and I love that for them.

[nightlyrequiem]

alrighty sooohhh this might be worded oddly since im used to requesting certain writers who use certain words to describe 'y/n', so, like, forgive me if it sounds confusing or like, out-of-place 😭

could u do a Valeria oneshot with reader, her partner, whos also a big, hardened criminal, -- who runs another cartel, -- not a rivaling one, just a different one, which was forced to alliance themselves with Valerias cartel, after her and reader made themselves official

They're both big, mean cartel mamis, who have killed people, without second thought, not even a blink of an eye -- two women, making old men cry and piss themselves on the regular, -- yet, when reader and Val are together, they're just two appreciative softies

Total power couple in public btw. They're both covered in tattoos, wearing expensive clothes, earning more and more respect from more and more people as their empires grow,

when in private? Thats a completely different story. You got the jist, though.

Again, i apologize if this is worded wrongly/strangely, ive adapted my writing style to certain people, and physically cannot write in any other way without feeling weird about it .. aha. Giggle, giggle.

much love, traveling anon, aka, girlscout

-🐾🍪🏕

Don't worry, this was worded very nicely! This was pretty fun to write. I do enjoy some violence. Especially when it's being done by women. One dangerous woman is great, but two? Oh, I'm certainly swooning. This is one of my few works to have two drafts. I hated the first one and scrapped it. Much more pleased with the final product ^-^

Tags/Warnings: Violence, Some Gore

The Snake's Nest

Valeria slams her fist into the side of a man's head. He roughly hits the brick wall of the alley and crumples to the ground, clutching his face. His cheekbone no doubt shattered. You watch impassively as Valeria aggressively grabs ahold of his shirt and hair, hauling him away from the wall. She forces his face into the concrete. You kneel down gracefully.

"Why are you crying?" You ask softly. He did this to himself, yet he dares to cry. Your head tilts. He looks up at you, the whites of his eyes are pink with agitated blood vessels, either from the number of drinks he's had, the crying, or from the beating he's taking.

"Please!" He cries out. Begging for your mercy. Incorrectly assuming that you're the more merciful of the two. That you'll call of your guard dog, unaware that you are far worse. He's lucky that it's Valeria and not you.

You stand back to your full height. The man continues to squirm and incoherently sob out pleas. Valeria lifts one strong leg and brings it down on his head hard. You don't flinch at the violent cracking that occurs. His scream is cut off and distorted. She brings down her foot again and again until he goes silent. You turn your head and make eye contact with his friend. forced to crouch in the corner and watch. His face is haunted by what he's just witnessed. He will be left alone. Forced to pick up his friend's pieces and attempt to put them back together. You look back at the man on the ground with Valeria standing over him like an angel of death. You don't think there's strong enough glue to fix him now.

You take ahold of her soft hand. Brushing your thumb over her bruised knuckles. You two walk out of the alley. Your shadows split and morph together under the yellow streetlights. Valeria owns these streets, but you run them. With your combined forces you exert total control over everything. Eyes and ears are everywhere whispering their secrets to you. You and Valeria are separate but one in the same.

You were carefully nurturing the seedlings of your own cartel when Valeria was taking over hers and striking fear into the heart of Las Almas. She had what you wanted. Power, respect, and fear. You planted a few red herrings in her territory to give her a mystery to solve while you expanded your organization. You did whatever was necessary to succeed. Who it harmed didn't matter to you. You grew and grew. You got big enough that the small red herrings didn't matter to Valeria. She sent her men to sniff around your territory and routes. Not a show of outright aggression but a subtle threat from her to you.

For months you danced around each other. Trespassing but nothing more. There was a fragile peace between the two of you, one you intended to shatter. You quietly built-up strength in preparation to take over Las Almas and eliminate her and her cartel. The DEA was an unpredictable variable though. They began cracking down on the drug market. An infestation of them nested in Las Almas and its surrounding areas. Posing a genuine threat to the both of you. Your plans were put on hold, and you took the initiative to approach her with an offer of allegiance. Tempting her with territory and more firepower.

You two met on a burning Tuesday morning. You were to meet with El Sin Nombre at a local cafe. Instead, at your designated spot sat a woman. It took you five minutes to approach her. At first you were irritated that El Sin Nombre didn't respect you enough to meet you himself, but you swiftly figured out he was a concept and not a person. That she was The Nameless.

You intended to use Valeria as a way to take down the DEA without drawing too much attention to yourself. However, overtime you began to respect her. She was cold and calculating. She wasn't the type to waste her breath with meaningless threats. If you failed to be useful, she didn't waste her time in getting rid of you. Overtime she slowly dug her way through the ice around your heart and wormed her way inside like a little parasite. The sun had risen and finally set on the DEA. There was no reason to cradle the connection between the two cartels any longer but neither you nor Valeria made the first move to cut contact.

Your strictly business relationship flowered into something more. Something personal. The same hands that pulled teeth and put bullets between eyes lovingly traced the edges of her tattoos. Whispered sweet nothings into her ear at night, your legs coiled together like snakes after coitus. No one had ever treated you gently. Never kissed your hand or made you soup when you were sick. Those things were reserved for girls who were soft like velvet. Pure and kind. Not violent women with serpentine tattoos. Who sunk their teeth into the throats of others. Not until Valeria. Who bared her throat to you and bit back.

She clasped heavy gold chains around your neck with as much tenderness that one might do with a daintier piece of jewelry. You slid expensive rings onto her fingers with unspoken promises. 

The night isn't over, and neither is the need for violence. Not that either of you have any issue with that. Normal couples have date nights at the movies. Maybe a nice restaurant. You and Valeria strengthen your bond by inflicting pain and terror on lower life forms. In a warehouse eyes glitter from the shadows. A combination of hers and your own men. Valeria typically takes care of the interrogation and punishment. You have no issue with blood or violence. You take enjoyment it. But the sight of her lips pulled back into a feral snarl, her vicious efficiency, it makes you fall in love with her all over again.

This time however, you take the lead. A tall man, standing at an impressive six-foot-four stares you down in the centre of the room. He was a friend, once upon a time. Your second hand. The only person apart from Valeria you genuine cared about. The only other person you'd be willing to set yourself aside for. You were heartbroken to find out he was taking bribes from a smaller gang and trading your secrets for money. This is personal.

He's doing his best to seem unafraid, but you can see the fear in his eyes. Smell it in the acrid stench of his sweat.

"I'm not going to grovel for your forgiveness." He grumbles.

"I wasn't going to give you the chance to." You reply calmly. He's expecting more words. Maybe a monologue about how angry or hurt you are. You stare at him for a long time, letting the tension build. Higher and higher and higher. Until too many stagnant minutes have passed and with them his moment of understanding. Only then do you act. 

Quick as a scorpion's strike you stick him like a pig in the gut. he hisses in pain and tries to grab you but you're too quick for him. You kick out his knee and dart behind him, ripping your blade from his stomach. He howls like a dog while you hold him by the throat with your bicep. You place the tip of your knife in the squishy bit just under his ribs, in the middle of his abdomen. You struggle to keep the placement as he writhes but you get it right and push in, feeling muscle and skin tear under the steel. His screams echo back at him mockingly as you drag the knife down, tearing him open.

He slumps to the ground in a pool of his own blood. One last pained whine leaving his throat. You stare up at everyone watching. A public lesson. Though you can see that they're more entertained by the show then worried.

Back home you carefully strip out of your blood-soaked clothes. Setting them down in the laundry hamper. You crawl into bed and watch Valeria do the same. Admiring the smooth tan expanse of her back. Of the muscles shifting under her skin. You want to trace the ridges of her spine. She joins you under the covers and rests her face into the crook of your neck. Breathing in your scent. 

[yesimwriting]

Without Faith

a/n giggling and kicking my feet rn btw, this is meant to be a set up for something longer! lmk if you're interested in part 2 :)

Summary: After a news story that was only meant to be an internship assignment spirals into a crime story that earns national attention, you feel conflicted enough about your involvement to join a criminal psychology class despite being a journalism major. Despite your good intentions, the universe seems to have it out for you considering your slightly older professor is extremely attractive and the only person that seems to understand what you're going through.

Warnings/info: age gap (reader is of consenting age tho!!), future student-professor relationship, slow burn, slight changes to how college works for the sake of plot, a surprising amount of lore (i got carried away), me writing for a character for a first time on here so be kind 😭

----

It's not often one finds their enemy crumpled up and lying helplessly next to an overflowing garbage can. It's even rarer to see that and still feel the bitter sting of defeat.

"He didn't text me back, which is weird because when I ran into him on Friday--" Carlie, who might know you better than you know yourself, pauses.

You turn your head away from the trash in an attempt to abandon the newspaper as completely as the person who had thrown it away. "You saw James last week? You didn't tell me."

She watches you for a moment, her eyebrows pulling together in a way that tells you she won't accept your lie just because you're offering her an opportunity to re-dissect her most recent interaction with her latest target. "You know I did."

Carlie shifts her weigh from one foot to the other, her eyes drifting towards the ground. "It's there because it's old--it's over."

It's over. The words crack themselves against your skull. More than a sentence, more than a promise. The only consolation the state's attorney could offer grieving families. The sound ringing in your ears as a mother gave into her agony, a choked sob ripping its way out of her throat.

It's over--the catalyst that sent the mother to you in a parking lot illuminated by stale, synthetic lighting. They're the reason for her confession, that in some off-kilter way she thought the verdict would make her feel better.

It's over--the syllables that accompany the sound of the needle leaving Josh Robinson's lifeless body. Killed by the justice system or the media?

"You didn't do anything wrong." Carlie's voice is careful in its unflinchingness. "He was a serial killer. You--you wrote the truth."

And while this awareness has bound itself to your bones, it is rarely enough to make you forget what you did wrong. Journalists are impartial, they don't--they're supposed to understand, they're supposed to be careful. You took it a step further.

"I know."

You don't need to look up to know that you haven't convinced her. However, you must have sounded okay enough for Carlie to accept moving on. "And you're doing more than anyone else would do to make your true crime even better."

It's an exaggeration. Journalists have done a lot more for their careers than request to join a class that belongs to a department unrelated to their degree. But Carlie seems so happy to be able to compliment you, you decide to go with a less sentimental correction, "Not true crime."

"I know, journalism." She sighs, but continues to walk forward in a way that feels oddly optimistic. Maybe even relieved. "Make sure you point out the difference to the professor. I'm sure he'll love that."

You roll your eyes at her sarcasm, but follow her lead anyway. You've already perfected the elevator pitch you're planning to present to Dr. Spencer Reid. A brief but genuine description of the importance of ethical journalism, especially when it comes to writing about serial killers.

You're well practiced and far from worried about winning him over. Academic authority figures have always taken well to you...it also doesn't hurt that you spent all night googling him just to be safe.

"Actually," she begins, pulling open the door to the psychology building, "I bet there's no room for original material in the interaction that you've already imagined, planned, and mentally rehearsed."

You scoff as you step past the door's threshold. "No," the word is dismissive and entirely unconvincing. You instinctually move past it. "Go talk to your advisor about your thesis, I'll meet with Dr. Reid, and then we can order food or something."

The reminder of her own meeting seems to kill the mood, her smile morphing into something more focused. Carlie lets out a small breath. "Right. We got this." And with one final assuring nod, Carlie turns towards the stairwell.

----

The thought is a dull ache that wedges itself into your chest before you can bring yourself to knock against the door. It'll follow you forever.

When you step into the room, Dr. Reid will inevitably ask why you want to join his class. And then you'll have to answer.

You exhale as you extend your arm, knuckles rapping against the wooden surface before overthinking can hurt you any further. After a brief silence, you hear a slightly muffled, "Come in."

You reach for the brass handle, pulling the door open before stepping past the doorway's threshold.

The office is comfortable, a large desk and two plush chairs manage to share the space without seeming cramped. There's a pencil holder and several stacks of papers on the desk's surface. If one ignores the degrees--and the age of the recipient when he received them--on the walls, the office seems normal. Almost suspiciously so. There's even a partially wilted plant sitting on the windowsill.

After taking in the room, you let your attention fall to the individual behind the desk. He's--he--while you've read enough about Dr. Reid to already respect him, and are fully aware that he is far from your peer, you're also now looking at him.

Last night, you did stumble onto a few pictures of him that forced you to reluctantly make a mental note of the fact that he's aesthetically pleasing, but those occasionally blurry snapshots did him and his sharp features little justice.

"Hello," the word is an instinct, slipping past your lips before you're ready to speak.

"Hi," his response is as sudden and lacking in context as your own--a fact that immediately eases you.

Dr. Reid shifts, back straightening against his seat. "You're here for your appointment." You barely have the chance to nod in confirmation before he's continuing, "Come in, take a seat."

In all honesty, you're more glad for the direction than the excuse to sit. You enter his office fully, approaching the plush chair in front of his desk. You sit down, lips parting before you're ready to speak. All structured thoughts have abandoned you.

"Hi." You realize your mistake immediately. You blink, a sound between a self deprecating laugh and a sigh escaping you. "I already said that."

If Dr. Reid thinks anything of your mistake, he gives no indication of it. His expression remains steady, with the exception of the corner of his mouth briefly tugging itself upwards.

Your hands come together on your lap, one of your nails pressing into the nail bed of the thumb on your opposite hand before forcing yourself to relax. You've read enough about his work with the FBI to know that he's so adept at analyzing behavior, you don't need to make it easy for him by giving into obvious signs of nervousness.

"Like I mentioned in my email, I'm interested in joining your class even though it's not an elective and in an entirely different department than my degree." This part is easy, a perfunctory explanation of what he already knows. "However, there is enough overlap that my advisor is supportive of the idea and has already signed off on it."

He shifts again, his pointer finger tapping against the surface of his desk. "Right, she mentioned that, but she didn't mention why."

Okay. This is the part that matters. "I'm a journalism major, and I've recently completed an internship with The Washing Sun." In an act of total self betrayal, you study his expression for any hint of recognition. Finding absolutely none makes it easier to breathe. "And spending time in such an active, journalistic environment has made me fully aware of the way that morals and personal views can complicate ethics."

You pause, pressing your lips together. "I'd like the opportunity to learn about certain behaviors in order to develop a perspective separate from my own.

Though still politely neutral, something behind Dr. Reid's eyes implies an uncertainty that has the rest of your pitch jamming itself down your throat. Whatever's changed doesn't feel like disbelief, and you're far from worried about being accused of lying. You were careful to comb through your mess of emotions before you had even pitched the idea to your advisor--you do feel those things, they're just not the only things you feel.

How delusional had you been to assume the same answers that hid their vagueness behind a heavy layer of altruism that worked on Mrs. Carol would work on a FBI profiler?

"I um--" The sound of your own voice surprises you. "I know what it's like to write something when you can't feel anything for the person everyone's already rooting against, and I'd like to not feel that again." Another glimmer of honesty, barer than your curated story, but still not exactly everything.

Dr. Reid is quiet for a moment, studying you with an openness that should make your skin crawl. "What did it feel like?"

The question throws you. Friends, family, strangers--they've all asked you things about the case, about your article, about hundreds of other things so barely connected you couldn't fathom an answer. No one has ever asked you about that feeling.

"Uh..." You're not even sure you have an answer. "Weird." Your blankness feels like such a cop out, you feel the need to try again. What did it feel like? A hybrid beast made of a festering not-quite-guilt, an over awareness of your every action, all held together by an uneasy pride...that only served to further aggravate the not guilt. "Like I was doing something right and wrong, with no way of knowing what it was more of."

You squeeze your hands together, allowing yourself to focus on the action instead of him. "I'm sorry, that probably doesn't make much sense."

When you finally lift your head, Dr. Reid is already looking at you. A moment passes, the somberness of his features growing heavier in the silence. Maybe he's looking at something past you. "It does."

The affirmation is a small, fragile thing, so faint and far away it almost feels like an intrusion to have heard it. Some selfish part of you latches onto that, his unexpected understanding a lifeline you can't let go of.

You almost thank him before realizing that you have no idea what you'd be thanking him for. "I'm glad," you settle on, fingers carefully coming apart on your lap. "The writing thing's no good if I don't make sense."

The attempt at humor seems to pull him back from wherever he had gone. "Then you have nothing to worry about." He doesn't exactly smile, but there's something easy about the way he's looking at you. "I'll approve your enrollment request."

Relief floods through you immediately. "Really?"

"Maybe it'll help you feel less...weird." From him, your too plain adjective feels a lot more fitting.

You nod once, the motion quick and polite. "Hopefully." The beat of silence that follows comes closer to kinship than anything you've ever felt in someone's office. You're also fully aware of the fact that you've gotten what you came for and that Dr. Reid is likely a very busy man. "I shouldn't take up anymore of your time."

His fingers tap against his desk. "Right. I'll see you in class."

You smile as you stand. "See you then."

The walk towards the door is a lot less intimidating now. Still, once you reach it, you can't bring yourself to immediately reach for the handle. You pause, letting out a breath before turning around. "Dr. Reid?"

He looks up, nodding once in a way that's meant to prompt you. Maybe it's overkill, but it feels necessary and it's too late to back out now. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He doesn't look away from you after responding.

There's nothing left to expect, there are no words or anything else meant to be said. That's not enough to stop some unknown feeling from wedging itself between your ribs, urging you to something, to say anything that might come close to offering him the same kind of understanding he's given you.

"I hope you find a less weird, too."

He doesn't respond, but something about the look behind his eyes and his slight nod makes you feel okay about leaving him.

----

There are few ideologies that have clung to him, and even fewer that have managed to bind themselves to some integral part of his being that exists beneath his skin.

The pursuit of knowledge is one of the few constants Spencer Reid allows himself to rely on, one of the only things he allows himself to consider a saving grace. However, circumstance has prevented his views on the subject from skewing. The irony of the fact that some things are better left unknown is not lost on him.

For example, the girl that walked into his office and immediately saw through him, is better left a mystery. He'd see her in class, he'd answer her questions, he'd grade her work and offer her necessary feedback--but he will not know her.

It's a mantra, a promise that he repeats in his head again and again as his attention falls to the desktop in front of him. He attempts to grasp onto this lack of knowledge, to transform it into a tangible entity to keep him from typing your name into the search engine.

----

a/n spencer entering his garcia era while googling reader 💻🧑‍💻

anyways in ur interested in part 2 or would like to be tagged let me know!!

[n30nwrites]

Rest in Peace (Jason Todd)

Pronouns: He/Him

Warnings: Character Death, Gore, Fighting, Jason Dies, You Die, Zombies??? Angst

Relationship: Jason Todd x Male! Reader

Notes; This is something I came up with real quick, it's nothing long but it's something I was thinking about in case I wanted to continue this sometime.

Your mother always said you were a smart one. It was proven shortly after you had graduated highschool at the young age of 8, which was a surprise in itself but when you are determined at that age, nothing can stop you. Then you got your undergraduate degree, which took another 2 years, before taking the 3 years of medical school and then your 3 years of residency, all which amounted to now.

You rushed through your childhood to provide more for your mom, living in Gotham is bad enough, living in the Bowery meant only the worse. Constantly carrying a weapon on you (or in your case, multiple), running into criminals and prostitutes and people without homes. Children would run amuck, determined to live without parents and without rules. It was home because it was affordable, something to house you but it wasn’t home, it couldn’t be. It was often broken into, there were multiple times you’d have to wake up and fight for your life or for your mother.

So maybe you were never a child in the first place.

That’s why part of you was thankful for your soulmate. You knew his name, Jason Todd, you had communicated with him through your body, which sounded strange but it was the way you both talked. Writing on your own skin would show on his, but it wasn’t just writing. Any pain and emotion was shared as well, and many times Jason was forced awake in the middle of the night because of your fights, and many times he has interrupted your schooling with fights during the day.

But you both apologized, and it didn’t matter. At the end of the day, it was you two.

Until you died.

You were 16, at a college party that some Residents that you were in charge of talked about. They underestimated you, you hated them for that. You showed up to alcohol and drugs, for being this generation's future doctors, they sure were reckless with their lives.

It was fun, you drank a little because you wanted to let loose, and you wrote to Jason asking if he was okay because he hadn’t responded. He still didn’t but you figured he was busy, until you felt it. You feel your wrists bruising as if they are tied together, and it isn’t long before your cheek hurts as blood fills your mouth, as if something had hit you. You coughed, before you were hit again in the ribs and your body stuttered onto the wall.

And then they busted in.

You don’t really remember their faces, they all wore clown masks and purple suits, they held weapons. Guns, crowbars, bats, knives, and more guns. Everyone shrieked, some people attempted to fight back and were quickly silenced, and they commanded everyone to get on the ground. They seemed to be looking for someone.

It was you.

You fell to the ground and yelled in pain and the men grabbed your arm and pulled you to the middle of the room. “Found him.” One of them says into a walkie-talkie. You begged for them to stop, for your soulmate to be safe. They stripped you down into your underwear and laughed, before carving something into you. 

One thing about sharing the pain with your soulmate is that you don’t get any marks from it. You can feel it, and it will show for a while, but it won’t stay scarred. So while your soulmate is getting violently beaten, so are you.

Matching scars, matching souls.

They kill you soon after, between the two beatings you could barely stay awake for, the other goons start killing the students around you, and it's all going so fast. You can make out words forming on your wrist. 

‘I luv u’ it’s such a horrible spelling that you knew Jason was desperate. It made you let out a sob as you desperately tried to respond, it was spelled out in his own blood, and the only way you could respond back was with a poorly formed heart before you felt your wrist break.

You remember the burning before dying. Then nothing else.

It isn’t until you’re digging out of your own grave that you remember everything. You’re dressed nicely, in a suit your mother couldn’t afford that was now covered in dirt. Your fingers are bleeding, but you stare at your grave stone instead. Well it isn’t just your grave stone.

You had a shared one, with Jason Todd.

It seemed you both had died on the same day. While yours says ‘Beloved Son’, Jason’s says ‘Beloved Son, Brother, and Friend.’ which makes you feel just a little lonely. The angel statue that is supposed to bless your graves feels more hollow than comforting. But you stayed focus on the last line on yours and Jason's shared grave.

‘Two souls joined together at last.’

You still didn’t feel whole though. And why were you alive now?

And why were you suddenly hungry for brains?

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Chocolate & Movies

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Imagine: having period cramps is one of the worst things, but luckily you have a dad who knows what will help, or in other words Aaron Hotchner is the best father you could ask for

Warnings: period, period cramps, pain, you know normal period things (me writing this as a woman knowing full well most men don’t know what I actually mean), hotch being the best dad ever, hotch cuddles, hotch hugs, idk what more

A/N Me 🤝 writing fics for my own comfort

This is my first Criminal Minds fic so I hope I did ok, and if you have a request for Criminal Minds pls send them in

So I’m mainly writing this because my period cramps are worse than normal, and I can take a lot of pain before it gets too much, and my period cramps are usually bad, so thought why not write some comfort fic about it and here we are, this is for anyone who have period cramps so enjoy I guess, sorry that it’s short

Side note: I wanted to ad that this is what usually helps me I’m not saying it helps everyone

You knew you should’ve been up by now, but there was no energy in your body to do so. All your energy went to not cry out in loud sobs of pain. It felt like someone was stabbing knives into your stomach and twisting them around. Any position you tried made the excruciating pain worse. Even the thought of walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water to take with the medication caused the pain to spike up. Your nauseous state didn’t help nor the fact that it felt like you were going to faint as soon as you lifted your head up.

Jack had already left for school and you were supposed to be in your father’s car in ten minutes so that he could drive you to school. However if you had a say in the matter that would not be the case, if you got your will through you’d be at home the whole day wallowing in the pain you got once a month as you (in your dramatic words) bled out.

You were about to take your phone (not wanting to yell) to ask your father if you could stay home when you heard his voice yell out to you. “Y/N, we’re leaving in ten, you ready?” seconds later when he hadn’t gotten a response, your door swung open and the bright light from outside shined inside your once dark room. Your dad saw you laying on the bed and even if he wasn’t a profiler he would still have been able to see the pain that you were trying to hide from showing on your face.

Aaron’s face softened as concern washed over his expression the more he looked at you. He went over to your bed and crouched down, his hand going out in concern towards your forehead thinking you might have a fever and a headache at first, but you felt completely fine against his hand. “What’s wrong honey” he heard you take a deep breath before letting out some few mumbled words “period cramps, hurt a lot”

“You wanna stay home” Aaron noticed how you sighed in relief at his question, and was glad that he had understood the situation right. He got a nod from you and went out of your room to tell the school you weren’t coming in today. Not long after he was back to crouching beside your bed, this time caressing your arm softly.

“I have to go to work, but we won’t have a case for a while so you can come with me if you want, we can stop at the store on the way and get-“ he was cut of by a groan coming from you as you tried to once more not give in to the pain.

“Yeah I’d like to come with you if it means I get to cuddle with you, otherwise I’ll stay here”

“Go get ready, I’ll get you a glass of water for the meds, okay?” Hotch got another nod from you and he went out to leave you to get dressed, well as dressed as pajamapants and one of your fathers oversized hoodie was. You took the painkillers, your phone, charger, headphones and grabbed the coziest blanket you could find and went out to the car.

Not soon after you’d been to the store, bought a ton of chocolate and were now in your fathers office. Aaron had changed from working by the desk to sitting on the couch writing reports as you cuddled into him. Headphones on (as to not disturb your father from his work) as your comfort show was playing on your phone. A bunch of chocolate wrappers were spread around on the floor and desk.

And even later that day when you got home, Aaron cuddled with you as you watched movies and ate chocolate. A heat pad (is that what they are called, I literally have no clue, says the person who always uses them) laid across your stomach, which together with the warmth from your father relieved some of the pain. That along with the fact that Aaron’s hugs could always bring some of the pain away. Maybe it was a dad thing, you didn’t know but you were happy that your father was a great hugger, and that his hugs always made you feel okay.

[phyrestartr]

Happy Place (HOUND) (Miguel x M!Reader)

Geneticist!Miguel x Guard!Reader Part 3 of HOUND | w/c 3.8k

#NSFW, zombie AU, apocalypse AU, mentions of exploitation and abuse, body horror, gore, immoral research and experiments, power imbalance, reader is a criminal, miguel is a scientist, dark themes, reader is morally grey, bottom!miguel, top!reader, hurt and comfort, it's fluffy in the end, bussy loading lmao

Note: Genuinely had a really fun time writing this!! Was not really planned, but I cannot resist the idea of reader being a big softie towards people he kind of gives a shit about :sob: some angst, some miscommunication, and some good ol' FUCKIN'. Hope you like it! I have an idea for another part, but idk when/if I write it u-u we shall see.

--

You started behaving differently around him. Miguel rationalized it was just because of the sex–you’d suddenly found a new resource in your “owner,” and so started looking to him to find it, to get a piece of something you’d been without for a long, long time. 

But primal instincts suggested something else; you didn’t just look at him like a fuck doll, you looked at him with soft eyes, slow blinks, and gentle patience. Normally, in those hellish meetings you were dragged to, you would stare straight ahead, listening to everything, but not giving away thoughts or opinions. And now?

Whenever Miguel glanced your way, he found you watching him, eyes half-lidded and lovey. The scientist forced himself to look away. He rubbed his mouth, trying to pet away the embarrassment (and will away any uncouth thoughts). Miguel liked the change, of course, but it had to be investigated. 

He brought you to Lyla to get some tests done. She was all too happy to see you, calling you a “good dog” and her “best boy” to which you merely huffed and smirked smugly because, yeah, you knew you were the best mutant puppy they had. 

“So? To what do I owe the honour of seeing my favourite guy?” Lyla asked as she reached up to fluff up your hair. You bowed your head like a dire wolf leaning in to let a chihuahua preen. 

Miguel crossed his arms, equally enamored with your gentility as he was perplexed by it. “He’s different. Less strict and serious, more…” Miguel pursed his lips when a faint grunt of approval boomed in your chest as Lyla scritched a particularly good spot. “That. This. Whatever this is.” 

“Awe, come on, he’s just a big puppy. That’s what we made them to be, right? Not a big deal.” But Miguel didn’t buy it. Still, he knew Lyla wouldn’t so easily dismiss his claims, either. “Anything change with you, big guy?”

“Sex,” You answered.

Miguel rubbed his face with a groan. “I–you–”

“Wow, getting in the freak seat, huh, Miguel?” Lyla teased. “Sex puts anyone in a good mood.”

“This isn’t just a good mood. It’s a complete 180.” His hand dropped from his face to gesture towards the teddy bear. “Look at him. He doesn’t do this. What if it becomes a problem?”

“Actually, his cortisol levels’ve been down since he got back to watching you,” Lyla argued, suddenly a tinge more serious. She glanced your way, and her expression shifted just the slightest bit before returning to Miguel. “Really don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“You don’t think?” 

“Pal, buddy, come on–”

“Please, just–just run tests. Just check.” Echoes of snarling mouths rippled to the forefront of his mind. His palms began to sweat. “I need you to check.” 

She must have understood.

Lyla agreed, and assigned Miguel with a temporary HOUND escort. While it was humiliating to need a babysitter around the clock, Miguel couldn’t go without one–every blind corner, every door sitting sealed sent his heart into a panic, made him want to curl into himself and disappear. Having a superhuman by his side was the only thing that gave him some sense of comfort. 

Miguel paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. He glimpsed your back turned to him as Lyla dutifully prepared for the examination. 

“When do I get him back?” Miguel asked, like he didn’t just demand Lyla take him. 

The woman in question shrugged. “Eh. Dunno. Shouldn’t be more than an hour. Probably less than that. If there’s a problem, I’ll keep him longer.” 

Oh. Miguel didn’t like that. 

–

You came back about an hour later, tagging out your substitute and finally, finally, taking up your spot by the door. Miguel’s shoulders relaxed with the buzzing in his mind. Things were okay again. 

“So?” Miguel asked, pulling himself up from his desk to saunter towards you. “Anything?”

You glanced his way with a familiar, stony set to your stare. “Not much.”

“Really.” He could tell you’d snapped out of whatever lovey dovey daze you’d gotten stuck in, though. Your body wasn’t so open anymore, what with your arms crossed and eyes simmered down into burnt-out coal. “You expect me to believe that?”

You didn’t answer. But your silence said enough. 

–

Things went back to normal. You remained distant and far off, but attentive and responsive to Miguel’s needs and wants; you stood closer to him if his stress peaked, you never left his line of sight, you fucked him if he beckoned you to the bed. You reset back into the dog you used to be.

Miguel didn’t like it. He’d taken you to Lyla to see if something was wrong with you, if you were going to break and snap, turning into the thing that’d tried to kill the both of you. He didn’t want you to reset. He didn’t want you pulling away.

–

The undead were slowing down. Another winter had hit, and it hit hard, knocking out the city’s electricity and tearing down power lines. But it’d frozen the dead, rendered their bodies useless and slow in the frigid streets of New York. 

It made capturing specimens easier and faster for the HOUNDs, just as it made extermination easier for the military as they scrambled to secure a quadrant of the city before winter passed into spring. All reports suggested the reclamation efforts were going well with few accidents and even less resistance from each point of interest hit. The amount of hideaways and survivor camps were astonishing as well, all tucked away into the tops of skyscrapers or underground in the darkness of parking lots. Civilians were truly incredible. 

But the HOUNDs were working double time, hardly having ample opportunity to shut their eyes before being requested again and again and again–there was always a building that needed to be cleared, a squadron that needed to be found, civilian colonies that needed to be relocated, and your sort was best suited for it all. 

Thankfully for you, retrieval efforts took a brief pause after a 99% clearance was announced, and the military began construction for official sector lockdown. Finally, there would be a safe space for the public to exist in, sealed off from the rest of the decaying, hungry world. 

And you would get a break. A chance to let the frostbite heal, to get shot up with painkillers, and bask in the synthetic warmth of Alchemax. Or, they’d kill you and let you rest forever if your test results came back as troublesome or unpromising. God, you hoped you were still promising. 

You’d done your best, shoved away the shreds of affection you felt for your keeper to maintain focus and keep worried eyes away from you. Your mind was clear. You felt fine. You really did. But they were human, and they were scared of what they created (what else is new), even though they depended on you and your ilk so heavily for safety, and for the most dangerous of missions. 

The sort of missions that had some of your kind put down after abnormalities, consistent with the incident several months ago, were detected in their DNA. The sort of missions that gave some of your kind the chance to make a run for it out in the field, daring the outside world in favour of living as a slave to Alchemax. You could understand it. You could sympathize, even; freedom was a beautiful idea, but with the world in such a state, the confines of your prison promised more freedom than the wildlands of the old world. 

Idiots. Every single one of them. 

The truck jostled you back to consciousness. The pounding in your head worsened, the pressure in your sinuses amplified, and your will to go on slowly withered away. But, thank whatever was left of God, you were almost back to Alchemax. Almost home. 

You wished you could collapse into Miguel’s bed beside him and sleep it all off, but that uncomfortable panic your soft side threw him into wasn’t acceptable. You didn’t understand it, but you weren’t going to fight it. There wasn’t any point. 

–

Miguel awoke to you standing by his door, arms crossed, back against the wall, and head bowed as you quietly snoozed. Normally, you didn't sleep on the job. Normally, you didn't look like shit either, though; you had a mask of sorts covering the bottom half of your face, probably one equipped with an air purifier to keep illness away from the rest of the building, and your skin lost its natural light to it, accentuating the deep crescents of shadows under your eyes.

He needs rest. That was the first thought in his mind, and the one that got him up and out of bed to get you. He expected a fight, honestly, but you were easily guided to where Miguel led you in your hardly-conscious state. 

“‘M fine,” you grumbled, brows furrowing and weak hands lamely trying to free yourself from Miguel's touch. 

“You need to lay down.” And somehow, he made it happen. Miguel got you in the bed and pulled off your boots before settling back down himself. It was strange, he realized, how he felt safe with you simply sleeping beside him, and sharing your warmth with him. Maybe he didn't need you to stand guard and sacrifice sleep for his sake anymore. 

–

Miguel didn't know when he'd fallen asleep, but waking up pressed into the warmth of your too-big frame was a welcome surprise. Your limbs were tangled all around him, your legs threading through his, your arms draped around him, your nose pressed into his mess of chestnut hair while deep, rumbly purrs rolled against his back. Your claws were out, too, every now and again gently kneading against his chest and stomach when happy dreams danced through your mind. 

It was when you let out a grumpy growl that Miguel smiled. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to carefully, slowly, turn in your arms, avoiding getting nicked and waking you up just to catch a glimpse of your sleeping face. Miguel settled back in, feeling you adjust and watching your brows furrow the slightest bit while you unknowingly made accommodations for him. 

“What’re you dreaming about, huh?” Miguel murmured when your expression slackened again and the drone of purring resumed. He reached towards your face carefully, running his thumb against the mess of scars intersecting with your bum eye; you never let him touch your face, always shying away or wincing in a recoil whenever he so tried. He never knew if he hurt you, or if you didn’t want to be reminded. It’s not like he ever knew what was going on in your head, anyway. 

Maybe I should. A thought that plagued him far too often. As far as he knew, the others didn’t bond too well with their guards, at least not to this level. But maybe they should have taken the time to. Maybe they should have matched you based on personality compatibility, or something similar to make sure you’d get along, to ensure nothing like that abomination could have happened in the first place. Maybe then they’d care about the HOUND division more. Maybe then you wouldn’t be seen as expendable. 

Your good eye opened when Miguel’s thumb dipped down into the scar resting flush against the bone of your damaged eye socket. You recoiled with a wince and sat up in a hurry, looking around the room in confusion and running a hand through your hair. 

“What the fuck,” you grumbled, voice hoarse. You coughed into your arm, but the mask caught it for you “Didn’t mean to–”

“I made you lay down,” Miguel said, firm. 

You looked at him, confused for a moment before relaxing into your plain, uncaring state. You rolled your shoulders a few times before reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it up bit by bit; Miguel was almost too distraught by the bandages and marks marring your body for him to realize what you thought he wanted. 

“Wh–hey, no, no.” He sat up and stopped you, grabbing your arm to give you pause. “Just–stop. Relax.” 

“You’re giving me mixed signals.” Your brows furrowed. “Don’t like me lookin’ at you, don’t want me getting too comfortable–”

Miguel’s gut twisted. “I didn’t know if something was wrong–”

“You that scared of me?”

“I’m not–”

“Then what is it.” 

Miguel didn’t have the words. He didn’t know. He couldn’t straighten out his thoughts enough to give you a succinct, reasonable answer that’d make sense and cover everything. He didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling during those blurred days of the apocalypse. 

“I don’t know.” Miguel stared hard at your arm. His fidgety hands fussed with the bandages. 

You waited for a beat for him to continue, but he didn’t. You leaned in the slightest bit like it’d encourage him before you prodded further. “You don’t know?”

“Anything. About all of this–everything. Everything’s ending.” Ah. How optimistic of him, one of the men tasked with giving the world a fighting chance, to save humanity. “Nothing good happens anymore.” Right?

You stayed quiet for a long while. Miguel didn't know how to read that look on your face. He could only imagine what someone like you, someone hardened and fucked over by the world, was thinking, what you were judging by his words and– 

“Some dinosaurs got fucked by volcanic ash,” you interrupted, “but some changed, and turned into birds. Like chickens ‘n shit. Some things turned into us, too. Somehow.” You cleared your throat and rubbed at the mask covering your mouth. “Don’t like the idea that we evolved from a fucking dolphin or whatever, but it happened. We're here, too, like those fucking chickens. Despite the world ending.” You spared him a look this time. “Things still lived, even if they changed.”

Miguel was dumbstruck. And he understood what you were saying. So much more than what you tried to convey. You were starting to make sense to him. 

“Huh. That was almost optimistic. Profound, even,” he offered with a soft smile. “Didn’t know you knew so much about chickens.” 

You scoffed. “My kid loved that stupid fun fact. Loved dinosaurs. Told me about them all the time…fuckin’ chickens and dinosaurs.” You were smiling, too. He heard it in your voice, saw the creases by your eyes. 

“Sounds like a smart kid.” 

You nodded. “She was.” 

–

He convinced you to keep him company for the day, the night, and the morning. It was a relief, waking up next to you again, feeling just a little less hopeless as the hours passed in your presence while chicken fun facts echoed in his thoughts. Hell, he was even starting to like being the little spoon, especially when he felt stiff, morning excitement pressing up against his ass. 

You weren’t that shy about it. You pulled his hips closer and ground up against him, grumbling and sighing through that stupid mask into his ear. Maybe you were still asleep, indulging in your body’s wants as dreams carried your subconscious into similar territory. Miguel only hoped you were dreaming about him. 

He jumped when your large hand groped his hardening cock through his joggers. He started scrambling and reaching for the side table for the bottle of oil he kept on hand for the nights he had you in his bed (and for his own personal time), nearly dropping the damn thing when you started pulling and tearing at his pants, suddenly deciding you were beyond impatient to have him. 

“Wait–hey, just–wait a second–” Miguel scrambled to shove his sweats down before you could do anymore damage. You huffed a laugh in his ear when you finally groped his hot skin. The sound lit an inferno in his chest. “Impatient pendejo.” 

“Lube.” 

“I'm working on it.” He lathered two fingers with oil and reached back, prodding before pushing in as you spread him wide. Your impatience had his fingers pumping in and out quicker, hastily convincing his tight ring to relax and loosen for the main event. Your hand gripped his cock and tugged firmly, making his hips buck back against you and lodge his digits in deeper with an embarrassing squelch. That, in your mind, meant he was ready to go. 

You pulled his hand away rudely before yanking down your waistband and jamming yourself into him. Miguel gasped and struggled against you before you thrust forward, simultaneously pulling his hips back, and fully seating him. Your arms snaked around him to cage him in and stop him from wriggling away if it got to be too much–you wouldn't have it. Miguel liked it that way. 

“Mierda, you–” he choked down a whine when your hand curled around his throat and held firm. “D-Don't get too carried away.” But thorny barbs pushed at his skin, teasing and kneading while Miguel's core melted and eased around you. His hand felt down, jolting a little at the bump jutting out from his flat stomach. Sometimes he forgot how big you were. 

You pushed two fingers into his mouth when you started moving, rutting into him lazily and sloppily, dragging rugged moans out of his chest with every draw of your bodies together. He bit down on your fingers hard and grasped your hand at his neck to find some kind of anchor point. Another breathy laugh had Miguel opening his legs wider, his back arching off of your chest. You wrenched your fingers from his mouth and pulled him back in, adjusting yourself to make use of his compliance and fuck him better. 

“Such a good little thing,” you grumbled, voice roiling with dark thorns. “You like being manhandled, huh?” And you squeezed his thigh and his throat hard, digging in your barbs just enough to threaten injury. “Like bein’ a whore?” 

Miguel wanted to snap at you, to tell you to shut the fuck up and stop teasing (bullying) him, but you hit him where it counted and freed his mind from the concept of speech. One of his hands balled into the sheets while the other clawed back at you, trying to sink further into his set anchors.

“Hm? You tryna say somethin’?” You asked with such condescending mirth in your words. “You wanna tell me how good it feels?” 

The hand around his throat was joined by the one leaving his thigh, and you squeezed harder. Delicious sparks of blackness muddied his vision, the near-death feeling accentuating the hard cracks of your hips into his, the white-hot blaze curling his toes and shaking his thighs. 

“Tell me,” you demanded again, a little louder, a little more annoyed. But how was Miguel expected to speak when he was so close to the edge of life, death and pleasure? He was nearly there, so close, just a little more–

But you pulled out.

Miguel heaved in breaths and blinked away the fog shrouding his sight. He wondered if old wounds gave you pause, or if fatigue had finally gripped you and extinguished your desire. And it concerned him, the idea you weren't ready for this, that you might've felt pressured or–

“Tell me.”

–oh, no, you were just being a cocky asshole. Figures. 

Miguel scoffed and reached back, weakly pawing for your slick cock rubbing against the curve of his ass, trying to guide it back to where he needed it. You should've known well enough how good you were, and yet–

“Words.” 

“I-It’s good,” Miguel croaked, cringing at his stuttering. “I–can’t you just–” Your charge choked on a mangled cry when your claws broke skin and sunk deep. But the afterburn fuelled the explosion boiling in Miguel’s gut. God, what was wrong with him? 

“Please,” he finally whined. 

A pleased purr vibrated against Miguel’s back. “Please?” 

Miguel screwed his eyes shut to ward off the wave of embarrassment crashing down him. “Fuck me. I have to–I need to–” 

You slammed back in, and Miguel almost shattered. He half-turned out of your grip, chest brushing the sheets while his abdomen twisted to still give you his ass; but you were a benevolent menace, and rose to your knees, guiding his hips up with you while he buried his pleas into the mattress. 

“Good. I'll give you what you want. I can do that.” 

And after a few bullseye hits, Miguel came undone. His hips jittered and stuttered, overwhelmed and ecstatic with the electricity shooting through his body and burning him alive. You held him tightly, moaning lowly as you plowed into his stifling heat, determined to plunge off the edge yourself while torturing your partner with wave after wave of tumultuous ecstasy. You really were too good at this. It was almost unfair. 

“Por favour,” Miguel gasped. He was breaking. It was too much. Too much–

“Shut up,” you grunted, but the plea must've done the trick; your hips jolted to a stop once flush up against Miguel's ass, and a familiar flood of heat filled his guts. Miguel pulled on fistfuls of his hair and bit down on his other hand's knuckles. He probably would have passed right out if he hadn't grounded his soul with a little bit of pain. 

You slumped on top of him unceremoniously, like a dog flopping back onto its owner. You grumbled and wheezed in a way that sounded far too dad-like, in a way that almost made Miguel laugh and did indeed bring a tired smile to his face. As much as you were an insufferable asshole, you were just as cute and silly. Miguel quite possibly loved that about you. 

“What? All that shit-talking tire you out?” Miguel asked. 

You huffed. “Still sore.” Ah. Maybe your earlier torture was to disguise your need for a break after all. “You got me going too much.” 

“Sorry? You're the one who started it.” 

“You're the one who begged to get fucked,” you retorted like an annoying teenager. “Like a bitch in heat.”

Miguel sighed. He knew he wasn't about to win this one, but he had to try. His stubbornness wouldn't let him back down. 

“You're the one who woke up hard. Grinding against my ass to–” he stuttered when you pulled out suddenly before flopping down beside him in bed, “--t-to get off.” Christ he hated you. You were so fucking annoying. 

“You liked it.” You watched him grab some tissues from the side table and clean up as much as he could before rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling. “You're horny as fuck.” 

Miguel lamely slapped a hand at your chest, and you caught it, pinning it against your warmth. Miguel didn't mind. It felt nice. 

“Yeah. Well. It's the apocalypse.” 

“It's the apocalypse,” you agreed.

[kel-lance]

JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 4

(quick chapter//moving plot)

Warnings:

- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.

Premise:

Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 12 chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)

___________________________________________________________

AN: Sorry for the long update i'm trying not to get evicted bc i was fired a while ago bc of a protest (surprise surprise big companies don't like or care about palestine or other places like it.) but i had to give away my cats and am still struggling i have my socials in my masterpost if you could help if not its okay ily, I hope you like it

____________________________________________________________

After the three took a break from you, Sukuna pushed Yuuji towards you. Todo just follows along, trying to make sure Sukuna doesn't kill Yuuji as they just don't know what Sukuna could be thinking at times like these.

You lay a top the bed, sheets strayed, your hair messy, your whole body sweaty and broken, you entirely were weak, and Yuuji couldn't stop saying sorry to your fucked out face. "Let's see what you got."

You didn't feel anything for a few minutes until Todo broke the silence. "You've got to do something, brother, you know I'll back you up."

Yuuji just continued to stand there. If he were to fight Sukuna with Todo on his back, he wouldn't know who else would fight with them. Todo would lose everything he already has and would blindly die for him, which he would never ask for. But if he were to go through with fucking you again for Sukuna's enjoyment, Todo would also have to add himself into the situation. This double edged sword was going to stab him either way, but which would hurt you less?

"Don't take too long..." The leader made motion that he was going to start walking towards you two. "NO." Yuuji covered you on the bed, staring off back at his older brother. Todo comes behind Yuuji, putting a hand on his shoulder before giving him a look, and sighing understandingly as he stripped off his shirt.

Todo and Yuuji's was almost awfully awkward at first. They just felt bad, not being able to tell if you were even conscious anymore and continuing to do to you what they were doing.

Really they weren’t allowed to stop until Sukuna was satisfied. Until Yuuji was sobbing, begging him to give you and everyone else a rest. He was asking what would it take to stop this?

The older brother taunts, “Maybe we’ll keep her til she births one of our children, or multiple if she can create sufficient and strong offspring. I don’t know, Yuuji, should I start a farm because of you? I heard the Zenin clan is somewhat similar…”

“Please, please, Sukuna what do you want?” He was breathless. “This has to stop, you can’t-.”

He stops his younger brother, “I have, I did, and I can continue this for as long as you both live. I think that may be the conclusion I’ll come to, don’t you think it would be fun to be an uncle?” His big hands caress your stomach, feigning tenderness to his soon to be child or “sibling’s” child.

- You go back to your room where you stay in for a week.

- A random night, someone breaks in and tries to kidnap you and you didn’t know who it was, obviously you weren’t going with them without an explanation.

-That caused you to fight back as your dealing with everything so far, you were getting pissed being treated like a doll. The person who broke in gets captured, just before he says “Yuuji’s waiting outside, trust me.”

- Sukuna's family come in trying to make sense of the situation and the others had captured the mystery guy

- That's not before he throws you to two female ninjas. They secure you quickly and run back to their master Toji.

- their clan/gang is super powerful, the twins you can guess are Maki and Mai, and Sukuna (the new head of one of the three big families that control the large part of the area, the head of the Kamo gang) had just kidnapped their son, even if he did happen to barge in.

- Megumi’s been friends w Yuuji since they were kids but they never shared that.

- they met bc they were fighting bc yuuji was taught to fight ppl who give them looks (Sukuna wanted him to protect the family name no matter what, and megumi just had that face… and when they realized that they were part of the other side they had to come to extremes before realizing they were different from their families.

- they knocked each other out senseless and somehow one was still alive, megumi sat with yuuji while he regained consciousness and they started to talk more. Battered and bloodied but Yuuji finding the humor in it while Megumi thinks enough to like his character and realizes he’s just a big strong idiot.

- Maki and Mai are close, as sisters should be and they both have their loves (nobara and momo) and we all have to go team up with the gojo clan in order to make sure this trade off is safe and megumi and yuuji aren’t dead

- because now yuuji is with you at the toji clan too, it was supposed to be just you getting captured and then yuuji leaves to live his own life but now he’s in front of toji saying it was his fault that megumi’s now with his brother (sukuna)

- Yuuji explains that he and his son were friends since childhood, he says everything and everyone's on edge bc toji does what he wants, whenever, whatever, really anything for money.

- He says he knows he doesn’t have money, but the only thing he does have was something they both risked their lives for, so toji gets curious and wants to try you out.

- Toji fucks you senseless, making you think the train ran on you were more merciful. He was trying every hole, every position, just dressing you up and doing whatever he could with you, you were actually at your limit with him, enough to bring you back enough to start fighting again. You were getting sick of it, actually you think you were getting sick.

His inconsideration was on par with Sukuna's, though Sukuna cared more about his new objects while Toji wants them to know their place and to leave when he tells them to. He had to know why they would do all that for you//how did you survive so long in that clan he just has to see how durable you are and he’s LOVING IT.

- He asks you what you’ve been through and you don’t respond so he hits you again and again but you don’t cry so he does it AGAIN and you flinch enough to stop him, and start taking off his pants. His only response was "e’s like "Oh so they already trained you."

- You suck his dick and he pulls you up to kiss him, by your neck and places you on his dick and fucks you in the air, using gravity to its full advantage, that was the start of it all before the days of relentless attention and use, you were more sore than any of them have put you in. The hitting, cuts, just the amount of violence he's integrated into your sessions felt like training again, but worse.

- He’s wondering if he could keep you as his slut but remembered that it would be stupid to start a war when his kid couldn’t keep it in his pants. He blames Megumi for having a cold heart compared to his father's icy one.

- Toji makes up his mind to help and plans to betray/kill the sukuna clan when they get megumi back bc he doesn’t care but doesn’t say that.

-He plans a meeting with the other clan the top three have been fighting over the position of this location for years and now and ofc they’re all on edge.

- Gojo comes to the meeting with his clan, they’re not worried bc they know some of their clan can befriend some of the others involved. No ones been dead so they have some sort of unspoken treaty to leave each other alone but they never asked much from the other ever.

- Gojo settles down with his group, smug and tired bc everyone needs them to fix other peoples' problems for them. The community relied on the Gojo Clan to protect them when they also work with the Kamo and Zenin gangs, the people outside are just as gullible. He sits down and asks what could big ol Toji need from him,

- “It’s Megumi”

- Gojo drops his smile. Their other unspoken alliance was when Megumi was beaten up at a really young age bc of his status and itadori happened to be there too (same elementary school). Gojo beats the fuck out of the people who targeted the kids/second to heir the clans, and left, but Megumi finds him and asks why would he help them.

- Gojo said he can’t have his competition get angry, his people are at stake. (referencing to the shifting power in-between the gangs that they didn't know about yet, and that his person was leaving his clan to join the other, he didn't know why he was doing anything anymore at that point but he couldn't let more powerless powerful children get hated on.) Megumi says thank you and takes Itadori back near his gang before disappearing back to his clan.

- Gojo actually has been in contact with his friend who's joined the other clan. That's how he knows what's usually going on with them to keep them rangled up and behaving as much as they could to not cause trouble or cause attention to groups like theirs.

Gojo and Geto were very young when they met, and since their lives were everything but normal, they were given the chance to take in more young bodies to add to their clan. They raised them together, but geto left.

Gojo begged for days for him to reconsider, they day he left he was inconsolable, especially since he took the twins too. Geto couldn't separate the girls, but he could separate himself from Gojo, in his head it's to help Gojo in the future because of the power he'll have.

Gojo didn't care about that, he didn't want help he just wanted Geto. That was all he needed, he had decided. He could have ruled the world and done it confidently if he had Geto by his side, but things don't go through when you're young, and now you're about to catch as many years he hadn't been able to get out.

- He's not nice at all when you're under his care. With Geto leaving at a critical age in learning, his feelings had been all over the place. He was completely disordered, his goals and morals and everything went awry, with the years he couldn't get himself out of the timestamp of when he knew happiness.

- So he asks you about Geto, his best friend, the only one that could make him feel real again. The one person who didn't do things for him because of his name and status, and yet left with the excuse of protecting Gojo from future evil. It was enough to drive the strongest insane.

- He asks you everything by torture, not too physical that anyone can see. WHen trading you back you should at least look and act like you're in the same condition, if not better than what you were when they traded you off. Just anything that Toji didn't already give you, Gojo would have mindless enjoyment from digging his fingers into the fatter parts of your belly, legs, and forearms.

- He’s only doing this to see Geto again. He just wants to pass the time until he can finally feel good again. He's strong, he's smart, he's beautiful, when would life be good to him instead of him making everyone else's lives better just by being there. It made him coky, it made him secretly weak willed to his own desires, so his processing was different than most.

- He asks u what he looked like and everything about him while fucking you. it was the closest he’s got rn. "I don't know's" made him reel back more, his strikes becoming almost boneshaking and shattering. He was making Toji seem gentle. Now that something he cares about is just a memory away, he just couldn't stop himself.

-You were so close to him, even if you never spoke to him, even if you never saw him in the maybe month you were staying at the Pink haired clan. But his aura seemed to have darkened when you mentioned twins. There were just so many either of you could have known but it just seemed to rile him up more. Seriously you would need a doctor and healing time after this. You couldn't let that happen again.

-There was nothing else to take from it, it was a hell you would only wish for the person already committing it. It made you miss the tenderness of Sukuna and the warmth of Toji, it didn't matter what they did or how you got there, anything sounded better than Gojo being without his favorite things. And you were barely part of it.

[lorebeth]

Hello I have a request that's been on my mind for a while. What if Blade had a child that's currently a preteen and they've never met him and when Blade discovered his child was on the Loufu living under the care of adoptive parents after their birth mother passed away, he decided to test their skill in battle and he was not disappointed but he was surprised by his child's fighting style and the fact that they collapsed as soon as the fight was over because this was the first time they were in a fight like that along with them having a somewhat weak constitution. (If you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely understandable and I wish you a good day or night)

I want to sob I wrote like 1k and it was GONE. My dumb ass didn't save it I swear I'm sobbing vigorously

BUT THANK YOU SO MUCHHH I TRIED REALLY HARD AND IT IS AN X READER. You're the first to ever request so you're like my favourite person right now ilysm PFHSJDB

SORRY IT'S SO LATE

Even with all your mentoring sessions and fighting competitions aboard the Luofu, nothing could have ever prepared you for your fight with him.

A tall, muscular man with a dead stare and an unimpressed, almost annoyed facial expression.

As your sword clashed against his, you couldn't help but wonder how you even got in this situation. Weren't you on the way home from shopping for your mother? Well whatever reason you were out for was immediately forgotten as a cluster of swings were thrown in your direction.

You ducked and blocked as many blows as you could, though you felt cold metal pierce your upper arm and you swallowed down a screech of pain.

You felt your shirt get heavier as blood was dripping down your arm slowly. Is this how you'd die? In the hands of a criminal?

The man stood still. Raising his sword and dragging his fingers across it, creating an almost beautiful ombre of yellow and orange across the bloodstained weapon. A sinister sunset.

As he brought it back to his body, the entire atmosphere around him changed. Blood was pounding in your ears, you swear you could have seen his mouth moving? Is he talking to you?

"Savour it for me."

The man jumped in the air, blocking the moonlight and his sword glistened red, everything was red. Why is everything red?

No. This is not the day you die. You needed to get back to your parents. You had to. Using your own sword you steadied yourself and felt the wind raising your sword for you. You felt lightweight and controlled your breathing, doing exactly what your mentor had advised you before battle.

"Raise your sword and let the wind guide you! "

Opening your eyes, you saw the fastly descending man gawk at you. His expression bewildered and his sword shaking slightly.

Before he could slice you open, you felt yourself swing a massive wave of energy towards the man, erasing his attack and sending him backwards. He landed on his feet and you could see blood dripping from his face.

The only bad part about using this skill however, something that your mentor warned you about was that it would be nearly impossible to keep awake after using it if your body is not prepared. You felt your eyes closing, trying to stabilise yourself by piercing the ground underneath you with your sword, you felt yourself crumble and fall into the bittersweet unconsciousness of your mind.

The last thing you saw were black shoes.

You woke up startled, everything was spinning and you felt nauseous. Staring around at your surroundings, you could remember you're in your Mentors house. So many questions and so many noises that made your head hurt.

As you slowly started getting up, your Mentor came in. Extremely annoyed.

"You're finally awake, Child." he sighed.

"Sir! What happened? My head is pounding." you blew out the candle next to your bed and shielded your eyes from the piercing light.

"Ahem." a new voice. You immediately jostled up and almost threw up from the dizziness.

It was the man. His long hair framing his face and his arms bandaged, his piercing eyes caught your own and you nearly shat yourself. What is he doing here?

"Sir! What's he doing here? It's illegal to harbour a fugitive, you of all people should know that..." you felt yourself become weak and sickly again. You couldn't concentrate on your sentences properly.

"Do not question me and my reasons, Child. I should have you clean the walls again for your silly accusation!" that shut you up, alongside the painful migraine that seemingly wouldn't go away.

"My apologies, sir..." you blinked up at the strange man again. You knew his name from the wanted posters across the Luofu- Blade. It suited him.

"This 'Fugitive' saved your life. You should be grateful, Y/N L/N." your mentor proclaimed. Yeah real grateful after he nearly killed you and kicked your ass.

You nodded, not wanting to upset your Mentor and clean the walls again.

The man stood still and was tense. Come to think of it, when your Mentor said your name, his eyes widened and his breathing changed. Something's up.

"Sorry Sir, but do I know you?" you asked Blade, not wanting to upset him by using his name.

"..."

"..."

"No." he turned around and walked away.

You and your Mentor shared a glance of confusion.

As you made your way home, you couldn't shake the feeling that the entire interaction was so odd. Especially after the stories you've heard about Blade. Cutthroat, cruel, dangerous. Despite these factors he saved you, well after trying to murder you first.

You just couldn't shake the feeling that you'd meet again and very soon. And surprisingly, you weren't opposed to that idea.

As you made your way inside, a man appeared from behind a wall with a hurt expression on his face. How could he have not known? He knew that the love of his life died and she would be no more. That made him an emotionless and cruel monster, but how could he have not known about you? You were his child for fucks sake. He sees you from your window, happy and talking to your parents. That could have been him. But a part of him is glad that you didn't grow up with him, he knows the life you would have had wouldn't have been as prosperous and kind as this. He would have cheated you out of a childhood.

He'll keep an eye on you though. Of course he will, you're the last memory of your mother.

"Y/N, huh? " and with that thought, he made his way into the shadows, your laughs echoing into the endless night behind him.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

The Edge

I know we all know I write whump and that I put my trigger warnings in the tags, but this one might hit pretty close to home so you're also getting a trigger warning before the snippet. TW: Suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide. I wrote this one as a way to process some stuff I'm going through so it might be more dark and angsty than what you're used to seeing from me.

-------

Hero heard the sound of Villain’s footsteps across the rooftop. They barely turned their head when the criminal sat down next to them, their feet dangling over the edge. They had met many times here before, but unlike those other times, an unsettling silence hung in the air.

“So…” Villain started.

“So.” Hero finished.

“You weren’t yourself this afternoon,” Villain said, “I mean, I know I’m pretty skilled, but you barely managed to dodge any of my attacks. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get hit.”

Villain’s tone was light, but Hero could hear the concern laced underneath. When they didn’t speak, Villain’s eyes widened in realization.

“You were trying to get hit,” they said, “…why?”

Hero still didn’t speak. They stared at the cars passing by on the street below. They thought about how easy it would be to just hop off the ledge and let one ram into them. It’s not like they had flight powers, so everyone would think it was an accident… no one would blame themselves… well, Villain might for not catching them, but they’d get over it soon enough.

Villain cupped Hero’s face and turned their head, forcing them to look in their eyes. Hero blinked dully at them.

“Hero, are you…okay?”

That sent them over the edge. The tears welled up in their eyes, then started to fall. It had been so long since they were able to cry, it was kind of nice to feel the tears stain their cheeks. Once they started though, they couldn’t stop, despite their attempts to do so. The silent tears turned to quiet cries, which turned to sobs, which turned to loud wails that surely everyone in the vicinity could hear.

Hero felt Villain pull them into their chest and rub their hand up and down their back.

“Shhh,” they soothed, “I’m so sorry, I should’ve noticed sooner.”

Hero continued to sob for several minutes. Every now and then, they’d go silent for a moment, but then the screams would start right back up. After what felt like forever, their cries died down to the occasional hiccup and sniffle.

“How long have you been feeling this way?” Villain asked softly.

“Three weeks,” Hero whispered.

Villain cursed quietly.

“I’m going to help you,” they said, “come with me.”

“No one can help me.”

“I can,” Villain said, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I’m tired, Villain,” Hero said, “I’m tired of fighting, I’m tired of failing, I’m tired of being here. I don’t want to be here.”

Hero peeked out from Villain’s chest at the city below. They could make it stop… right now. All they had to do was-

Hero couldn’t move. Villain had a firm grip on them.

“I can’t let you do that,” they said sadly.

Hero had leaned over the edge of the rooftop; Villain’s hold was the only thing keeping them from plummeting to their death. They hadn’t even realized they had tried to move.

“What are you going to do?” Hero asked numbly.

“I said I’m going to help you,” Villain replied, “I’m going to take you back to my base and I’m going to get you someone to talk to.”

“Not the psych ward,” Hero said quickly.

“No, not the psych ward,” Villain agreed, “but you shouldn’t be left alone right now. Come on.”

Villain helped Hero to their feet. Hero felt dizzy, exhausted, and numb. They lifted them into a bridal carry; Hero didn’t resist. They flew from the rooftop back to their base, while Hero closed their eyes, their head resting against Villain’s chest.

Patreon

Ko-Fi

Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog