#there is no “this side does this” “that side does this” you all need to go outside
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Please please please bless me with more baby daddy Jason. I’m so obsessed with it 😭 just thought about if he caught you staring a little too long at him being a good father he would make fun of how sexy you find him and how you still want him
Oh, how this has lifted my mood after getting covid during the holiday season🙏I can totally see him getting cocky like that, too. Just imagine this man letting out a near-silent scoff as he catches your gaze wandering across his muscles as he picks up your daughter
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd Part 2
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who doesn't actually bother you too much after that night you spent together. To your surprise, he doesn't expect much of anything in return. That moment simply turned into an unacknowledged secret that only the two of you would ever know about.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who still tries to show up to every little preschool function or birthday party your daughter has, despite the unspoken tension between you two. Despite what that little voice in your mind was screaming to do, you actually started inviting him to those kind of things. Typically, he would've just shown up unannounced.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who starts acting like your boyfriend or husband at parent-teacher conferences. On the rare occasion that the both of you show up to discuss your daughter with her teachers, they assume that you're together as a couple. Jason, ever the sly bastard, doesn't correct them.
You don't, either.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who actually starts playing into the role as soon as your 'relationship' gets brought up in public. If you happen to be sitting close enough, he'll grab your hand and start tracing invisible circles onto the back of it with his thumb. If you're really close, Jason will absolutely go as far as to sling an arm around your shoulders.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who is the biggest topic around the other single mothers at your daughter's daycare or preschool. Almost every time he makes an appearance, somebody asks for his number or tries to make small talk. He giggles like an idiot every time you have to scold him for giving them all the rejection hotline number.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who, when he does get asked about relationships by other women at your daughter's childcare facilities, will say that you're together in a committed relationship with no hesitation. He isn't really sure why he does it, either. It only really came about after you two slept together a few months ago.
To be fair, you do call Jason your boyfriend when a creepy guy asks you out.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who starts hanging out with you casually when he gets the chance. You've ripped him a new one a few too many times when telling him to keep out of excessive danger. What better way to spend his off time now that he doesn't do huge missions than being with his two favorite girls?
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who somehow manages to blend right back into your life when he puts vigilante work to the side a little. He's there to pick up your daughter from day care or playdates when you need him to. He's cooking dinner for you and the little one on a rough day before you even have to ask.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who knows exactly how you feel about him. He sees the way your eyes linger as he stands in your kitchen cooking or how your gaze drifts to his biceps as he picks up your daughter to bring her to bed. "Eyes are up here, sweetness," is what he teases every time he catches your stares.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who is knocking on your door mere minutes after you've texted or called him having a breakdown when your daughter is at a sleepover. He doesn't even care what you're crying about, you're scooped up into his arms instantly. "Shhh... I have you," is one of the constant reassurances he mutters into your hair, "I'm right here. You're not alone."
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who has you practically sitting on his lap as he holds you, his calloused hands rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion. You don't even remember when the slipped under the hem of your (his old) shirt to rub gently at your bare skin.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who listens to you talk, no matter how stupid or silly your problems seem whe compared to his own. He knows better than to give advice other than when you ask for it, so he simplu holds you and listens. "I know, I know..." Is all he coos into your slightly mussed hair as his hands rub and massage your skin.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who waits until you're done speaking to move or say anything. "Look, baby..." You hate how much you still love the petname, "I know it's tough. Trust me, I know." You hate how you love him. "But I'm here, alright? I... I'm sorry I have a tendency to walk out on both of you, but... I'm here now. I'm here as whatever you need me to be. If you need me to stay for you and her, I will. If you need me to leave, I'll go without another thought."
"If you want to forget about what happened the other night, then we'll both forget about it. If you don't want to..." You didn't let him finish, instead capturing his slightly parted lips with your own.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who only pulls away when you do, the pupils of his beautiful green eyes dilated as he looks down at you in his lap. His hands never cease their movement caressing the fat and muscles of your back as he lets out a soft huff of amusement. "You're absolutely crazy getting involved with me voluntarily, doll face." Even as he tries to play it off, you can hear the affection and fondness in his voice.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who takes his time with you instead of rutting into you like an uncaged animal. His hands are slow as they roam across your body, relearning every single one of your curves and crevices like it's the first time he's seen your naked body. Each motion is filled with such care and adoration that you question why you ever split up, even if just for a moment.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who takes every single ounce of your stress away without trying. It doesn't matter that he's only slept with you once or twice in the past couple of years, he's drawing out every single orgasm he can from your pretty little pussy.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who says the nastiest things when hooking up with you. He absolutely gets off on the thought of getting you pregnant again, but he knows better after thinking about the situation the two of you are in. "You're fucking milking me for all I've got, ma," he grunts out as he pounds you relentlessly from behind, his large hands almost dwarfing your hips as he holds them for leverage, "I'm gonna fill this pussy up all over again. You'd like that, huh? You want another little me running around this joint?"
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who, surprisingly, stays the morning after. It isn't picture perfect- nothing ever is- but it's still... Calm. Peaceful. Home. Like something you've never gotten with him before. The pair of you are still completely in the nude, your bodies tangled beneath the mess of sheets. But as your eyes flutter open with the first rays of morning light, the sight of Jason with small clumps of black and white hair stuck to his forehead from the previous night feels right.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who starts sticking around for a few days at a time after that. You're not sure just how it happened, but your daughter certainly loves it. She missed her daddy being around more often instead of being told that he was 'on a work trip' when it wasn't safe for Jason to see her.
BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who doesn't miss a beat when your sweet, innocent daughter asks if he's staying this time and if mommy will stay too. "Of course I am, baby girl," Jason, of course, makes direct eye contact with you as he says this before lifting the toddler into his lap. "Promise?" A smile. An actual, genuine smile that only she can get from him. "Promise."
How could you possibly say no to that?
Masterlist
#batfam#batfamily#batman#dc#redhood#jason todd x reader#jason todd x reader fluff#jason todd x reader smut#jason todd fluff#jason todd smut#jason todd#red hood x reader#red hood smut#red hood fluff#red hood#red hood x reader smut#red hood x reader fluff#arkham knight smut#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight#arkhamverse
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“ I want to see Zoro’s reaction when he sees the reader with an injury that almost kills them. ”
⛥゚・。 brand
synopsis: you return to the ship with a horrible injury... and zoro goes fucking berserk.
cw: angst, tiny bit of comfort i guess, ZORO DOES NOT PLAY ABOUT YOU, protective zoro, kinda sad for a christmas post ik but i was inspired
a/n: merry chrysler <3
"Stop blubbering and answer me, Usopp!" Zoro barked, roughly grabbing the sniper by his suspenders and yoking him up, attempting to shake him out of it. "Tell me what the hell happened!"
Usopp could barely breathe through his sobs, large rivulets of tears and thick globs of snot running down his face as his chest heaved, attempting to spit out an answer.
"USOPP!"
"S-S-San-Sanji!"
In an instant, Zoro's head snapped over to to the cook, eyes blazing with murderous intent.
The blonde had been sitting on the stairs of the upper deck the entire time, hands clutching his arms—like a hug—as he anxiously puffed his cigarette, his eyes becoming more hollow by the minute.
'Bastard!'
"She was with you!" the swordsman roared, storming over and harshly yanking Sanji to his feet. "What the fuck happened?!"
"Chill out, bro! It's not Sanji's fault!" Franky rushed over, shoving the two apart. "No one could've known!"
Zoro's brows furrowed at the vagueness, jaw pulling taut with frustration.
He was getting real sick of everyone beating around the bush.
"Known what?! I don't know what the hell you're talking about!"
"(y/n)..." Nami sniffled, legs pulled into her chest as she sat off to the side.
When you were first brought back, she and Robin had been asked to assist Chopper in treating you.
But the moment she caught sight of your wound, she was utterly inconsolable, nothing but tears.
This, of course, left Robin alone to help the good doctor.
"How did it happen?! How bad is she hurt?!" Zoro asked, before turning his attention back to Sanji. "You were supposed to be protecting her!"
The cook's lip rolled, hoping to fight back against its wobble as the lump in his throat began to rise.
"She... told me to tell you... she's sorry..."
"I DON'T WANNA HEAR THAT SHIT FROM YOU!"
In an instant, Zoro launched himself toward him, the others rushing in to separate the two.
"Now is not the time for this!" Jimbei exclaimed, stepping between them.
"Zoro!" Usopp quickly rushed over, holding the man back, Brook and Franky jumping in to help.
"BASTARD!"
To think, the crew had been all smiles just hours ago...
Though, in all actuality... most of Zoro's anger was directed at himself.
He had a bad feeling about the day from the moment he woke up in your shared bed, an ominous presence already lingering in the air.
And the moment you said you were going ashore, he knew he should've gone with you.
But he didn't
And that was on him.
Even after that, he had a chance to pull you away from the others, to drag you off by your arm and force you to stay back with him.
But he didn't
And that was on him.
But, of course, you had to pay the price, fighting for your life against... well, he didn't even know.
What he did know, however, was that if you died, he would never be the same.
Within your hand, you held a chunk of his heart; a chunk of his mind; a chunk of his soul.
God, he didn't even get to see you smile one last time.
What kind of boyfriend was he?
What kind of man was he?
How could he—?
"Zoro..." Robin stated, somberly, her voice cutting through his spiral as she and Chopper exited the medbay.
The poor boy was clinging to her leg, sadly, tears rolling down his cheeks as he hid his face in the flesh of her calf.
In an instant, Zoro stopped all his struggling, turning to them with a slight glimmer of fear in his eye.
"You should go see her... she needs you."
The moment the words hit his ears, he was moving, completely forgetting about Sanji and the others as he rushed into the room.
Inside, it was dim, the only light being a candle on the nightstand.
On the bed, you sat upright, feet dangling over the edge and arms crossed your bare chest as you looked down at yourself, shamefully.
"(y/n)..." Zoro exhaled, swiftly shutting the door behind himself to protect your modesty. "Are you alright?"
He crossed the room in wide strides, taking only a few steps to get to you.
From what he could see, you were unharmed; nothing like what he'd imagined based on the crew's reactions.
Impaled.
Dismembered.
Maimed.
Now, it seemed as if they were over-reacting...
When you didn't answer, his brows furrowed, hand coming up to carefully cup your cheek, concern spiking in his veins when you refused to look at him.
"(y/n)?" he tried again, thumb slightly gliding over your cheek. "What happened?"
Faintly, an idea popped into his head, reigniting the embers of anger that had been burning in chest only moments ago.
"Did someone touch you?"
At that question, a few stray tears escaped the corners of your eyes, forcing you to cower further into yourself.
It all was finally starting to click.
Your shame.
Usopp's hysterics.
Why Nami and Robin were the ones asked to assist.
'No...'
"(y/n)..." Zoro started, tone dangerously low. "Turn around."
Lip quivering, you followed his orders, letting out a few sniffles as you slowly turned.
Sitting back on your knees, you swiped your hair over your shoulder, revealing something Zoro never thought he'd see again.
The Claw of a Celestial Dragon.
Being so far away from Sabaody, the swordsman had ruled it as a near impossibility.
But seeing it so clearly, so painfully etched into your skin... it was impossible to deny.
You had been kidnapped by the Celestial Dragons, and branded... just before Sanji, Usopp, and Franky could save you.
Every pass of his eyes over your seared flesh tore out another shred of his heart, breaking him down to the white meat with your every tremble.
When you two got together, Zoro had swore to himself that he'd protect you, that any weapon made against you would fall at the hand of his blade.
That was his promise.
That was his word.
And it had just been broken.
"Zoro..." you choked up, turning back around and dropping your head in his chest, hands gripping onto his robe for dear life. "It hurts..."
Your voice felt like a punch to the gut, the swordsman's calloused hands rising to rest on your shoulders, thumbs drawing soothing circles into your skin.
Though, it wasn't long after that he became eerily quiet, expression morphing into one of something... terrifying.
Carefully, he scooped you up, wary of your burn as he laid you down on your side, leaning over to whisper something important into your ear.
". . ."
At that, your eyes widened, and he placed a firm kiss on your cheek before turning to exit the room.
On his way out, he tugged his bandana off his arm, pointedly tying it over his head before shrugging off the sleeves of his robe.
As he emerged, the blood of everyone on deck ran cold, the aura floating around the swordsman nothing short of bloodthirsty.
They had seen him before a battle countless times.
Incredibly focused.
Incredibly quiet.
Incredibly calm.
But it was nothing like that.
The sheer weight of his glare made it perfectly clear that nobody in that auction house—or possibly, on the island—was going to survive.
"Luffy..." Zoro's voice rumbled, as if he was holding back a roar of fury, the man not even having to turn around to know that his captain was on the balcony behind him.
"I know," Luffy nodded, voice low and hat shading his eyes as he stood there. "Do what you have to do."
That was all the confirmation he needed.
In an instant, his swords were drawn, and before the others could even comprehend it, he was already in the air and on shore, sprinting at a near inhuman speed toward the center of he island.
The moment Zoro learned you had been hurt, he knew he would've had to kill the bastard that did it before the day was over.
But the moment he saw that damned mark, he knew that not only would he kill the bastard that did it, but anyone even remotely affiliated.
And, in the end, Luffy had to hunt him down and bring him back to senses, practically dragging him back to the Sunny as Kizaru chased behind.
Not only had Zoro killed the Celestial Dragon that branded you, but also everyone that worked at the auction... nearly destroying the entire island in the process.
#zorosangell#one piece#one piece x reader#roronoa#roronoa zoro#roronoa x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro#zoro x reader#op
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under the mistletoe!
includes : (mouthwashing) anya, curly, daisuke, swansea.
summary : you get caught under the mistletoe!
warnings : gn! reader. mutual pining/early relationship.
ANYA
Has been waiting for you to notice the mistletoe above you both, she doesn't want to initiate the good old tradition but she definitely wants to participate in it.
When Anya glances upwards for the umpteenth time, you finally decide to follow her line of vision, noticing the mistletoe that hung above you both. Glancing down at Anya, you notice the slight flush to her cheeks, and realize she's noticed it the whole time.
"You know," Your voice drops to a whisper as you take a step closer to her, "If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask." Cupping her cheek gently, you lock eyes with hers.
She mumbles something under her breath- something about being oblivious, causing you to chuckle in agreement. You definitely wish you had noticed it early, so that you could've spent more time kissing her. With that in thought, you don't waste another second.
Your lips press against hers, savoring the sweet flavor of cake on her lips. Anya wraps her arms around your neck, deepening the kiss with rare resolve. Pulling away is a struggle, not wanting the kiss to end, but when it does you at least get to revel in the beauty of her dazed expression.
CURLY (pre-crash)
Tries to play it off as a joke in case you don't like the whole tradition, subsequently forcing you to make the first move and leaving him a little embarrassed.
When you both noticed the mistletoe hung above your heads, you had hoped it meant that Curly would finally kiss you. Instead, he awkwardly tries to crack a joke. "So... You come here often?" He winced at how bad that one liner sounded, wishing the ground would swallow him hole- but when you stifle a laugh (because it's cute how hard he's trying), he seems to relax a bit.
"Only when I see a handsome, lone Captain standing here." You reply, enjoying the way he seems to brighten at the answer, him responding in a husky 'is that so?'. Taking a step closer, your hand finds his chest. "You know, if memory serves right, tradition is that those standing under the mistletoe are to kiss, right?"
"Mmhm, big fan of tradition." Curly hums, nodding in agreement. Taking that as your cue, you lean in to kiss the handsome man before you. He sighs blissfully into the kiss, but pulls away all too quickly for both of your sakes.
"Yeah, definitely a big fan of tradition." Curly says, a bit in awe of the kiss, before deciding he's definitely not done kissing you yet.
DAISUKE
Thinks he's being smooth when he suddenly stops in front of the mistletoe with you by his side. He's not, but he gets points for being cute.
"Right this wa-" Daisuke was going to show you something in the other room, but stopped so abruptly you ran straight into his back. Stumbling backwards, you furrow your brows in confusion. Daisuke is now leaning against the doorframe, raising his brows.
"What are you doing?" You just so happen to glance upwards to see mistletoe above the doorway. You look back at Daisuke, "Are you serious?"
"Am I rizzing you up yet?" Its a good, solid debate in your head if you should leave him hanging or actually consider kissing him. Shaking your head at his silly antics, you give him a (teasing) pitiful look. "Is that a no-"
"Daisuke, just kiss me." You sigh, and he definitely doesn't need to be told twice. Excitedly, Daisuke swoops in and kisses you under the mistletoe. His hands a little shaky as they settle on your waist and pull you in closer, deepening the kiss.
SWANSEA
Who put this shit up? Swansea is not having any of it- hm? Oh, you like mistletoe? Well he supposes it isn't soooo bad.
Stood on a step stool, Swansea is taking the mistletoe down when you approach in curiosity. "Awe, don't rip it off Swansea!" You say, he sends you a small glare.
"You the one who put this shit up?" You giving a shrug, acting coy. Perhaps you were the one who put mistletoe up right under the Utility room, maybe you weren't. You definitely were. Either way it has Swansea faltering. "Ugh, as long as you take it down later, I guess..." He grumbles, leaving the mistletoe as he gets off the stool.
You gasp as he steps off the stool, capturing his attention once again. "Swansea! Looks like we're under the mistletoe, you know what that means~" You coo, mostly teasing, but when you see the light blush on his face you decide to double down on it. "Rules are rules, as they say."
"You're somethin' else, ya know that?" He sighs, looking at your excited face- you hide your intentions terribly. With a grunt, Swansea gives you a quick kiss, and when you whine, he snickers. "Hey, rules never specified how long." Damn, he got you this time, but you'll outsmart him next time!
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing#anya x reader#curly x reader#daisuke x reader#swansea x reader#mouthwashing anya x reader#mouthwashing headcanons#mouthwashing imagines#mouthwashing curly x reader#mouthwashing daisuke x reader#mouthwashing swansea x reader#x reader
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...For Romance languages, sure. But our language has always assumed she/her is the default gender unless specified.
In Skaruręʔkyéha·ʔ, the gender-neutral form is the feminine singular, reflecting our matrilineal society.
For example, if you asked, "Who knows?" you’d say it as "[Who] [she knows]?" because "she/her" isn't strictly "she/her." It also means someone.
We have stories of colonists mistakenly recording "ę̀·ruh" (she, someone) as "man" (raʔníha·) because the answer they received to "Who is that man over there?" was ę̀·ruh, in the sense of "that person." They didn't realize ę̀·ruh is the default gender pronoun.
In fact, the man who compiled our dictionary, Dr. Blair Rudes, later regretted using "he/him" as the gender-neutral example to conjugate our verbs because it contradicts how our language operates and imposes an Anglicized perspective on it.
It also makes conjugating based on the dictionary difficult because, unlike "she/her/someone," the male prefix won't always tell you whether a verb is an A-stem or a C-stem.
Every verb example the dictionary provides uses "he/him" as the gender neutral because Rudes spoke English as a first language and naively assumed this would transfer to our language. This is a mistake he later expressed contrition for in a note he added to the dictionary.
If Rudes had stuck to "she/her/someone" prefixes, we'd be able to tell whether a verb is C-stem or A-stem more easily:
raʔnęríhshęh = he rests (A-stem); we can't tell if this verb is an A-stem off the bat because ra- is the male prefix for both C-stem and A-stem verbs yęʔnęríhshęh = she rests (A-stem); we know this is A-stem because of the use of nasal Ę rakwáhsθeh = he likes it (C-stem); again, can't tell at a glance whether this verb is A- or C-stem if we were just looking at he/him conjugations yekwáhsθeh = she likes it (C-stem); we can tell this verb is C-stem because of the regular E
---
I mean... Our culture has always extended personhood to women, to the point where "she/her" is considered the default unless otherwise specified.
Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
We even have a special form of conjugation reserved just for women. We don't really need to grant women their personhood again if we never stopped doing that to begin with.
Linguistic imperialism is more of a problem than our language's approach to gender. The colonists mistranslated "man" based on their understanding of our language, not ours. Rudes assumed an English-speaking perspective would transfer to Skaruręʔkyéha·ʔ without problems when it really doesn't. Like, at all.
...We're not hardasses about pronouns, either. If someone wants to be referred to with certain pronouns, we roll with it. It's just basic decency.
So.
It's not exactly the same thing as "French referring to every 100-women-1-man group as masculine," but every Haudenosaunee language handles group gender a little differently.
For instance, Kanyęʔkyéha·ʔ (Mohawk) is concerned with the gender makeup of groups, which IIRC does take a ratio of men and women into account.
We, on the other hand, don't really care about gender configuration so much as the number of people involved. "Someone to someone," "them to them," "someone to you," and "us to them" take the same pronouns regardless of gender.
The only real time gender becomes a factor is when you're specifying "he to me" or "she to me." But even then, based on the way our language works, if you're saying something like "someone asked me a question," you'd still use the feminine singular.
No, for us the real hairsplitty stuff comes from accounting for the number of people on all three sides of the conversation (agent, subject, audience). You have to figure out who you're addressing, the number of people you're addressing, and your relation to the audience and/or the people you're talking about.
---
Another linguistic concept we might have difficulty explaining to non-indigenous people is the femininezoic form, since:
A.) It sounds dehumanizing, even though it's just an alternate way of expressing "she."
B.) We don't fully understand what it's used for ourselves, what the nuances are.
The following screenshot shows us the Thwahrù·nęʔ (Oneida) perspective on what the femininezoic is and what it might be used for; due to paucity of information, I have to assume Skarù·ręʔ (Tuscarora) usage is similar.
Basically, the femininezoic replaces "she" pronouns with "it" pronouns in "state-of-being" verbs (emotions, health, etc.):
yakuʔčhęnę́·tih = she is happy (feminine-indefinite) kaʔčhęnę́·tih = "it is happy" (she is happy, femininezoic)
The way this was explained to me is that the femininezoic is done this way because women are closer to the Earth, which is also an "it" but which can be personified as a woman.
My personal understanding, then, is that the femininezoic carries connotations of respect. We see this form used more often in older stories as well.
well you see this masculine term is "gender neutral" because for the longest time, men were the only people considered human beings, hope this helps!
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Blue Christmas
dark!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader
Warnings: noncon (rape), p in v sex, kidnapping, murder, drugging, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, choking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, abusive behavior
A/N: this fic is directly inspired by the movie P2 (2007) but I changed a couple plot things to make it fit for Rafe. Hope you enjoy!
The click of your heels echoed throughout the large, empty parking garage. You let out a frigid puff of breath as you shivered, pulling your coat tighter around your shoulders as you looked for your car.
After the holiday party had died down, you had volunteered to stay late to finish up a report so you could have Christmas day off with your family. And now, a full hour and a half after everyone else left, you were finally about to be on your way home.
You reached into your purse to fish your keys out, clicking the unlock button to help you find your car.
Chirp chirp!
The sound came from the level above you and you let out a small groan as you began the walk up to the next level.
After spotting your car, you let yourself in, sliding into the seat and closing the door behind you.
You slid the key into the ignition and turned it, but instead of coming to life, your engine stuttered, refusing to start.
“Shit!” You cursed, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. “Fucking seriously?!”
All you wanted right now was to get home to see your family, but now it appeared your car might not even be leaving the garage.
You reached into your purse to pull your phone out, dialing your mom, but when no sound came over the speaker, you pulled the phone away from your ear to realize that you didn’t have any signal.
Realizing that your only options were to find the parking security guard or walking out into the cold air to get better signal, you decided that you needed to find the parking office.
However, before you could even open your door, you saw the lights on the opposite side of the garage begin to turn off, one by one, growing closer until you were swallowed by the darkness of the garage.
“I’m still in here!” You shouted, feeling freaked out by the dark.
But the sudden sharp knock against your window nearly stopped your heart.
A bright flashlight flicked on, pointed at your face like the person was trying to get a look at you.
He must have seen the fear in your eyes because the light lowered to the ground, revealing the parking security guard, and you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar face.
“Thank god it’s just you,” you joked nervously as you opened your car door to step out.
You looked up at the tall, blond man, remembering the many times he had let you in the parking garage or waved goodbye as you drove out. He was a shy and somewhat awkward guy, but he had been nice in all of your previous interactions.
Underneath the nerdy looking glasses, you might have even considered him handsome.
“I’m glad you’re still here so late, or I’d be in a lot of trouble,” you groaned, gesturing to your car. “It won’t start and I don’t have any signal in the garage.”
“Ah that h-happens here more than you’d think, I can help you out,” he grinned, taking a cursory glance at your car. “You could um- make a call from the office, if you wanted.”
“Oh that would be perfect! Thanks um… Ray?”
“Rafe,” he corrected you with a lopsided smile.
“Oh. Rafe, sorry,” you repeated. “My name is Y/N.”
“I know.”
“You do?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion as you looked up at him.
“You hand me your parking pass every day, remember? Everyone who works in the office does,” he smiled.
“Oh yeah, true,” you let out a small laugh.
“Did you enjoy th-the party?”
You blushed, smiling to yourself as you remembered your coworker, Jack, pulling you into one of the empty offices for a quick make out session. This was the first time the two of you had ever done something so risky at the office before, and it had been pretty thrilling.
“Yeah, it was nice. I’m ready to get home to my family though, they’re all waiting on me.”
“Then we better call you a taxi, huh?”
“Guess so.”
You followed him as he lead you to the parking office, and your eyes widened as you took in the sparkling Christmas lights that were wrapped around the small space.
“Did you do all of this decoration yourself, Rafe?”
“Uh yeah,” his lips curled into a shy smile and he scratched the back of his head nervously. “I don’t know, it just brightens the place up. Makes the job less depressing.”
“Oh yeah, I totally get it.” You sat down at the chair opposite from his desk, mindlessly glancing over at the monitor that was showing multiple grainy camera angles throughout the garage, cycling through all the cameras throughout the building.
You looked over at the corner of the office to see a large black dog curled up on a bed.
“So, here’s the office phone,” he passed the landline to you. “I’m gonna step out for a quick smoke, you can uh, call your family or a cab, or um whatever you need to do. I’ll be b-back in a couple minutes.”
“Okay! Thank you so much for your help!” You smiled, waving as he stepped out the front door of the office.
You dialed your mom’s number, holding the phone to your ear as you waited for her to pick up.
“Hello?” You could barely hear your mother’s voice over the sounds of children playing.
“Mom? It’s Y/N.”
“Where are you?? We’ve been waiting for an hour at this point sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry, I had a little extra work to do tonight so I could spend all of tomorrow with you. And you’ll never guess what happened when I left the office.”
“What?”
“My car wouldn’t start! So I’m waiting in the security office and I’m going to call a cab,” your mother started to interject, but you cut her off, “don’t wait up on me. I’ll get there soon hopefully, but with this weather it might take a bit for the cab to get here.”
Your mom was saying something about sending your aunt to pick you up, and you waved her off, but when your gaze landed on the monitor’s camera feed, your blood went cold and the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing anything.
Your eyes widened as you watched Jack open the office door building on the camera feed, pulling you inside, leaving only a moment before his lips were on your neck, and his hands were trailing down your body.
Your stomach lurched when you heard yourself softly moan his name before his lips covered yours.
This video was from earlier tonight.
“Y/N?” Your mom asked and you realized you had gone silent.
“I-” your mouth felt dry, your mind was racing, but you knew you needed to call the cab as soon as possible. “I’m calling the cab now.”
You hung up quickly, looking behind you and around the now cramped feeling office for the security guard.
Would it be safe to leave the office? How would you find your way out quickly with the lights off?
He was nowhere in sight, so you dialed the number of the cab company, hand shaking as you held the phone to your ear and cursing when it kept ringing with no answer.
Finally after what felt like an eternity, someone picked up.
“Hello? Please, I need a cab at 9876 Main Street.”
“How many passengers?”
“Just one, please hurry,”
“We’ll be there in under 5 minutes.”
You let out a sigh of relief, you were finally going home.
However, you were shocked back into reality when a hand suddenly clamped over your mouth, pressing a damp rag over your nose and mouth.
You let out a muffled yelp, struggling against them, but the strong arm that wrapped around your chest held you firmly in place.
You had only taken three gasping breaths before the world around you grew fuzzy, and then your vision went black.
Your eyes cracked open slowly and you lifted your aching head to find yourself still inside the security guard’s office, laid out on the couch. A chill ran up your spine and your noticed your coat was missing.
Rafe was sitting at his desk with his back turned to you, watching the video of you and Jack on a loop.
You let out a soft whimper of fear, shifting to stand up and try to run out of the room, but you quickly realized your right wrist was handcuffed to the sofa when it dug into the skin of your wrist, pulling you back down onto the couch.
The clinking of the metal alerted Rafe to the fact that you were awake and he turned around, a sick grin spreading across his face.
“You’re up! Sorry about all that with the rag and stuff,” he chuckled, acting as if it was some run of the mill accident.
His casual ease as he looked over you sent a chill down your spine.
You didn’t miss the fact that his large dog was awake now, sitting beside him and staring you down imposingly.
“Also, I um- I cancelled your cab,” he told you and your heart skipped a beat.
“W-why?”
“Well… I thought maybe you’d want to spend your Christmas Eve with me,” Rafe nervously offered.
You blinked at him in shock, at a complete loss for words.
“W-we could get to know each other, and finally have our first date.” Rafe stood up from the chair and approached you, and you shrank away from him.
“Listen, Rafe..” you swallowed dryly, heart hammering against your chest as you carefully chose your words, “I- I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, but I’m already seeing somebody.”
There was a deadly silence at your words and Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening in a way that made you nervous.
His dog noticed the subtle change in his attitude, a low growl building at the back of its throat and he slowly started to walk towards you.
“Easy Max,” Rafe warned, his tone cold and mocking. “Don’t wanna scare poor Y/N too much.”
The dog backed off at that, laying down in his bed, but still eyeing you suspiciously.
Rafe sat beside you on the couch, one arm wrapping around your waist and you shuddered at the physical contact.
“Listen, Y/N, just give me a chance okay? Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”
“I-” you stuttered nervously, your mind too blank with fear to know what to say. “I have t-two siblings.”
You tripped over your words, face warming up when you felt his hand slowly begin to trace up your back.
“Keep going,” he ordered with a whisper, his hand rising to the rest at the back of your neck. Your pulse was racing and your breath was beginning to grow uneven with tension.
“I’m f-from a town 40 minutes from here. I’ve never ah-” you winced when his fingers flexed slightly, putting you even more on edge. “I’ve never lived outside of the state.”
“Really? That’s incredible. Me personally, I’m from North Carolina, but I’ve traveled all over the world.”
His eyes flicked from your face to your chest, eyeing the way your breath was coming quickly. He grinned wickedly, drawing so close you could feel his breath against your cheek.
“Am I making you nervous, Y/N?”
He adjusted his hand, wrapping his thumb and pointer finger around the back of your neck while his other fingers splayed down your spine, and you let out a shaky breath.
“Would you feel more at ease if I was Jack?” Rafe spat his name out like it was poison in his mouth and you winced.
“N-no. I- I don’t- no,” you whimpered, not sure what he wanted to hear from you.
This night had taken a turn that you never expected and your head was still spinning as you tried to come to terms with what was happening.
Rafe let out an annoyed huff, a scowl blooming across his face as he stared at you.
“Do you want to see him again tonight?”
“What?”
“I said, do you want to see him again tonight?”
“I-” you stuttered, but you trailed off, not knowing what he meant or how to answer.
Rafe rolled his eyes, clearly growing irritated by your indecisiveness. He turned to find something on his desk before returning to you with a key in one hand and a small knife in the other.
Your eyes widened at the sight of the knife, your breathing picking up as you looked to him in fear.
“What-?”
“I’m going to unlock you and we’re going to take a short drive, but I can’t have you getting any smart ideas, sweetheart.” Rafe grabbed your cuffed wrist, jamming the key into the lock on the cuff that was attached to the sofa.
He grabbed your wrist tightly with one hand, pulling you off the couch and turning you away from him before reaching over your shoulder and bringing the knife to your throat.
He leaned forward, letting his lips come to your ear and you held back a shudder as he spoke, “if you so much as think about trying to get away from me, I won’t hesitate to kill you, do you understand?”
You nodded, choking down your tears as he pushed you forward to signal you to walk out of the office.
Rafe led you to a car, opened the door, and shoved you inside, giving you a warning glare to not run before walking around to the driver’s side.
“W-where are we going?” You asked as he started the car and backed out of the parking space.
“You’ll see, sweetheart.”
He turned towards the exit of the garage, and for a moment you could feel your escape within your grasp, but he steered away, instead steering towards the ramp that led to the lower levels of the garage.
“W-we’re not leaving?” You could feel your heartbeat pick up again in your confusion. Where the fuck was he taking you?
“We’re almost there, Y/N, calm down.”
Your eyes scanned the dark garage, but they widened when he turned the corner, his headlights revealing Jack duck taped to one of the office chairs.
“Oh my god,” you whispered in shock, taking in the blood that was already dripping from his forehead. Jack shifted in the chair, his eyes squinting as he tried to look through the windshield.
“What’s going on Rafe?? Why are you doing this?” You hissed through tears, frantically looking back and forth between Rafe and Jack.
He chuckled, but it lacked humor and you felt nauseous at the sound.
“Don’t you get it, Y/N?” His hand came to your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you so much, and he’s what’s keeping us apart.”
Now you were almost certain you were going to be sick and you let out a sob as his thumb lightly traced your face.
“I- I don’t even know you, Rafe! I barely knew your name before tonight,” you cried hysterically, begging him to find reason. “Please, whatever you’re planning, just stop!”
You couldn’t stop the burning tears from falling now, anxiety making your heart beat so fast you felt dizzy.
“Shh Y/N, calm down.” He wiped away some of your tears with his thumb. His blue eyes watched you with concern, but there was a coldness underneath the surface that frightened you.
“I’m gonna take care of it, okay? And he’s never going to come between us again.”
Before you could question him, he closed the gap between you, holding you in place as his lips covered yours.
Your eyes shot open in surprise, stomach turning in disgust as you squirmed against him, and you whimpered when he forced his tongue into your mouth. His lips felt hot against yours and the kiss lasted too long, as Rafe held you down against the chair by your throat until you were gasping for breath.
He pulled away with a dreamy look in his eyes as he scanned your distressed expression.
“Do not try to run. Got it?”
You stared at him blankly, taking a beat too long to respond and his hand tightened around your throat.
“Got it?” He repeated with a sickening edge to his voice.
“Mm, mm hm,” you nodded, mouth too dry to make any noises other than humming yes.
“Good girl,” he purred, leaning forward to press one last kiss to your trembling cheek before reaching over to open his door and climb out.
You were glued to your seat, too scared to attempt running with him still so close. You could barely watch as he approached Jack with the knife brandished in his hand.
“Please- stop it! Don’t get any closer!” Jack cried out and your heart skipped a beat, more tears sliding down your face was you watched with horror.
“You were never good enough for Y/N, you know that?” You could hear the rage in Rafe’s voice simmering beneath the surface, ready to be released.
“Always taking her for granted and treating her like she’s some everyday slut.” He spat, pulling his arm back before punching James hard across the jaw.
You stifled your cry by biting your lip, trying to ignore Jack’s groans of pain when Rafe punched him again.
“Rafe, stop it!” You cried from inside the car and he turned around to look at you before punching him in the stomach with a grin.
“She may not understand what kinds of tricks you’re pulling, but I do.” He slammed his fist into James’ gut again. “I know guys like you, who get off on playing nice girls like Y/N and treating them like shit.”
“No- I’m not-” Jack grunted, blood trickling past his lips as he struggled to breathe. He strained against the layers of duck tape wrapped around his chest and the back of the chair to no avail.
“And I’m sure you look down on the guys like me. You think you’re so much better because you went to college and got a comfy, corporate job, and assholes like you always get the girl in the end,” Rafe’s voice was downright venomous at this point, and you could tell that he was working himself up to a boiling point.
“Not this time,” he chuckled darkly, bringing the knife to Jack’s throat threateningly.
“Rafe please!” You screamed, tears flowing down your cheeks as you watched the scene before you unfold, feeling utterly powerless.
In one smooth motion, Rafe brought the knife across Jack’s throat and a river of crimson sprayed from his neck, splattering across Rafe’s face and clothes.
You sobbed as Jack slumped against the chair, his head leaning back to reveal the large cut splayed across his throat, and you knew in your heart that he was dead.
Before you could think twice, your hand was wrapped around the door handle, and you pushed yourself out of the car.
The garage was almost pitch black, save for Rafe’s headlights and you didn’t notice the cement wedge in front of you.
“Shit-!” You cursed as you hit the ground, adrenaline too high to register any pain from the fall.
You turned your head as you scrambled to your feet to find Rafe’s angry gaze fixed in your direction. Heart pounding, you stumbled to your feet and took off towards where you remembered him turning from the ramp to the upper levels, the sounds of your heels echoing off the walls of the parking garage.
“Fuck!” You heard Rafe roar from behind you followed by the sound of him hitting something hard in frustration, likely his car, before you heard his heavy footsteps chasing after you.
“Y/N!!” He yelled, his voice reverberating and repeating as he cursed.
Knowing that this was likely your only chance to escape, you frantically looked around for an exit once you got onto the ground floor, only to find that it was gated off, and there was no way for you to leave.
When you passed a second exit that was gated off, you realized Rafe must have closed them all down to keep you inside and your heart fell.
“Where are you hiding?” Rafe’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he was getting closer.
If you were going to escape, you weren’t going to be able to do it alone.
You could hear his footsteps getting closer behind you in the dark, and you tried to quiet your shaky breath as you ran to the brightly lit office, hiding behind the support pillars along the way.
Even if he caught you in the office, if you could just make a call to the police, hopefully that would be enough to save you.
You finally reached the front, pushing the door open slowly and quietly before crouching and entering.
Unfortunately, in your panic to get away, you had forgotten all about Rafe’s large dog, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he ran up to you, barking and lunging, only to be yanked back by his chain at the last moment before reaching you.
Your heart rate spiked as the dog growled loudly in between sharp ruffs, barring his teeth and trying to nip at you.
“Shhh!” You whispered. “Good doggie, please be quiet!”
You eased past the dog and towards the landline, trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking in your knees as Max continued to bark.
Images of Jack’s throat being slit flashed through your mind and you choked back a sob as you reached for the phone.
Your sweaty fingers slid over the numbers and you held the phone up to your ear waiting for the ring.
But it never came.
You pulled the phone away from your ear in confusion, and looked down at the handset, following the wire connected to the phone to where it should have been plugged into the wall.
Instead, you stared at the severed wire in terror, realizing that Rafe must have cut it while you were knocked out earlier.
“Why are you trying to ruin our first date?”
Rafe’s voice from behind washed over you like a bucket of cold water, and you slowly turned around to find him standing in the doorway of the office.
He was an imposing figure, made all the more terrifying due to the flecks of blood painted across his face and shirt. His glasses were gone now, and you realized just how much they had been hiding the threatening glint in his eyes.
Rafe no longer seemed like the shy, nerdy guy you had taken him for before tonight, but instead a dangerous predator who had finally cornered his prey.
“Rafe,” your voice was so faint you weren’t sure if you were even speaking. “Please, I’m scared.”
Your throat felt tight, tears filling your eyes when you noticed the blood on his hands.
“Scared?” He asked incredulously. “You should be thanking me for getting that loser out of our way.”
A sob clawed its way out of your throat, and you took a step back, only to jump forward again when the dog’s low growl came from behind you.
“Now it’s time to stop running,” Rafe taunted.
You felt dizzy with fear as you watched him step closer, towering above you, the outline of his muscular form barely hidden by his leather jacket.
Heart beating loudly against your chest and blood rushing in your ears, you didn’t have any time to think your decision through before acting.
You rushed forward, trying to push past him to get to the front door, but you were a moment too slow.
Rafe’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, easily picking you up and spinning you away from the door.
You cried out as he carried you forward, pushing you against the table in the middle of the room and bending you over it.
“Stop it-!” You screamed as you struggled against him, but he easily pinned you against the hard wood, letting out a wicked snicker as he roughly pushed the skirt of your dress up.
“Don’t you want someone to take of you, baby?” The blond groaned desperately, fingers grasping at your tights before ripping them open.
“I just wanted to treat you nice, Y/N.” He growled, anger radiating off his tongue. “Like the good girl I thought you were.”
You wretched your arm free before bending your elbow and thrusting it into Rafe’s stomach.
He cursed loudly, his grip on you loosening for just a moment before his hand clamped down around your wrist, painfully twisting it behind your back and harshly forcing you against the table. When you heard his belt jingling behind you, your heart skipped a beat.
“Looks like I was wrong.” Rafe spat, and you whimpered in fear as he pulled your panties to the side. “Maybe you are a fucking slut.”
“Rafe please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t do this, Rafe,” you were quaking beneath him, crying harder as your pleas fell on deaf ears.
You froze however, voice dying in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock run along your folds.
“Oh god,” he strained, and you squirmed beneath him, cringing when his lips came to your ear.
“You’re so wet you’re dripping down your fucking thighs, sweetheart,” he taunted, barely shifting his hips forward and spreading your lips with his dick.
You sucked in a shaky breath, legs growing weak underneath you. You fisted the hand pinned against your back until your knuckles grew pale. His fingertips brushed your clit as he languidly dragged his tip along your pussy, up near your ass, then down to your clit. Up, down, languid strokes as he hissed through his teeth.
"Bet Jack wouldn't ever get you this wet, huh?"
Jack’s lifeless body flashed before your closed eyelids again, quickly replaced by the sharp sting of Rafe's fingers clamping your clit, rolling his slick-covered digits over your nerves. An instinctual whine left your lips, and Rafe sneered down at you as he dragged his dick back up to your hole, circling the head around your entrance as you protested.
"Rafe, please, please," you cried into the table, clenching your knees together and tilting your hips from him, anything to get him to pull away.
“Fucking stay still!” He hissed, wrapping his thick bicep around your throat in frustration. You let out a choked whine, tears coming to your eyes when his muscles flexed, cutting off your breathing, and Rafe ignored you as you helplessly scratched at his arm.
He groaned as he pushed into your cunt, his tip nearly sliding all the way inside of you, met with resistance that only fueled him further. Your pleas were lost to the heat that blushed Rafe's face.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you been holding this back from me?" He dragged himself out of you, watching as you clenched and quivered from the sudden withdrawl. Again, he pushed his flushed head into your warmth, and then out, in slow teasing strokes that made your head spin.
Against every survival instinct that was screaming at you, you stopped fighting. Each sting of his dick breaching you, each wet squelch of his fat tip inside you left you feeling dizzy with want.
However, when you felt his cock inch deeper inside, you whined in protest and squirmed in his arms, but one flex of the bicep at your throat quelled your resistance quickly.
“You’re so pretty, you know that, Y/N?”
You shuddered as Rafe groaned against your ear, his arm locked around your neck and preventing you from turning away. Your knees shook beneath you as he slowly forced himself deeper, and you felt betrayed by your body when you felt yourself growing slicker around him.
“Too pretty to be trapped in this shitty office job, wasting your hours at work, if you ask me,” he purred.
His fingers found your clit again, thumb rolling over your sensitive bud, and you bit back a moan as your back arched instinctively, allowing Rafe to dip deeper inside.
He was much bigger than you expected, stretching you out with each thrust, and pushing himself deeper and deeper until his tip kissed your cervix.
The blond wasn’t holding back anymore, reveling in every mewl and whimper he could draw out of you; and the way your snug walls clenched around his length had his hips snapping against your ass as he chased his release.
“Don’t you want a family to care for, baby?” He groaned, fingers swirling over your clit and you whined, trying to squeeze your legs shut in a desperate attempt to stop him.
His words echoed in your head, the sick irony completely lost on him.
You already had a family and he was holding you hostage to keep you away from them.
“We could start our own, together,” he whispered, and a muffled sob escaped your lips. When you squirmed beneath him, he easily held you in place, punishing you with quick, painful thrusts.
“You’ll never have to worry about working again,” he groaned when your tight walls squeezed around him. “Just- fuck- stay at home ‘n be my pretty, little housewife.”
Disgust and terror bloomed in your gut as you realized with a shock just how twisted his fantasies were. You felt sick thinking about how long his obsession had been festering beneath the surface and you had been too blind to see.
Rafe pinched your clit between two fingers and you whined, tears running down your cheeks as he forced your legs open again. You tensed around him, letting out a choked moan when he rolled his thumb over your tender clit.
You hated him, but even worse, you hated how much control he had over your body, and how painfully delicious each stroke of his cock felt.
“Please-” you whimpered, not entirely sure if you were begging him to stop or keep going, twisted desire clouding your head as he plunged into you again and again, the sticky sounds of your slick cunt filling the cramped room.
Rafe groaned, easing his hold on your neck to lean forward and trail messy kisses from your cheek to the side of your throat that was exposed, never slowing his pace or the steady circles around your clit. Nausea churned in your gut at the overly intimate gesture; and when the scent of copper reached you, you realized he had smeared some of Jack’s blood onto your cheek.
You gasped loudly when his lips attached to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Rafe’s low grunts vibrated against your throat when you squeezed down around him.
Your body rocked with every thrust of his hips, your knees quaking beneath you as his thumb circled around your clit faster now.
“Rafe-” your breath hitched and you shamefully realized that your undoing was hurdling towards you.
“That’s it sweetheart,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his bicep flexing around your throat as he lost himself in his pace, plunging into you again and again.
You let out a choked whine when his thumb pressed harder against your tender bud, and you were finally pushed over the edge.
Your body tensed, legs shaking as your slick walls spasmed around him. You squeezed your eyes shut as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, whimpering pathetically as Rafe pushed his cock into you again and again.
He snickered as you cried beneath him, reveling in the way you helplessly scratched at his arms, tearfully begging him to stop.
The blond slammed into you harder, each slap of his balls against your sensitive clit made your head spin and it wasn’t long before you were coming around him again.
You trembled beneath him, so dazed that you could only whimper mindless pleas.
“Fuck-” Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as you squeezed around him, his pace stuttered, and the arm at your throat tightened as he grew closer.
You could barely breathe now, and you struggled against him as he choked you, panic overtaking you when your vision grew fuzzy around the edges.
Rafe groaned loudly when he came, forcing his cock deep inside you and painting your walls with his hot, sticky seed.
You shuddered when he nudged himself deeper and you felt his thick cum overflowing past your sensitive, puffy lips. Out of instinct, you tensed beneath him, and he moaned against your ear when you tightened around his softening cock.
After what felt like forever, he finally pulled out, loosening his hold on you, although you couldn’t have fought back now even if you tried.
You heard him pulling his pants up behind you, and you flinched when his hands came to your back to pull your skirt down to cover you.
“C’mere honey,” he cooed, carefully lifting you off the table and guiding you to the couch. You obeyed him, much too out of it to put up any more resistance.
You cringed in pain as you sat down, but tried to make yourself as comfortable as you could.
Rafe’s hand was on your back, lightly drawing small circles on your exposed skin, and you found it nauseating that he could be so gentle after treating you so savagely.
He was staring at you, studying your nervous face for a few moments before reaching out to cup your cheek.
You flinched, turning away slightly as he drew closer, but his grip was firm, and he held you in place as he leaned in and draped his lips over yours.
Your stomach turned as his lips slid over yours possessively, and you let out a squeak of surprise when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning as he staked his claim on you.
When he finally pulled away, your head was swimming, and the dazed look in your eye made Rafe smirk.
“Aw look at you, never seen you so cock drunk before,” he chuckled, before leaning in to give you another quick peck on the lips.
“You gave me the best Christmas gift I could ask for.” He grabbed one of your hands, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing gently. “I’ll take care of you Y/N.”
You stared at him blankly, a tear rolling down your cheek that Rafe chose to ignore as he looked deep into your eyes.
“I love you, and I promise, I’m never leaving your side again.”
#dark!rafe cameron#rafe cameron#dark rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#dark!rafe cameron x reader#dark rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron noncon#blue christmas#stalker!rafe cameron
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Sick of It
in which Tommy gets sick, and he and Buck head towards making up.
The first time Buck gets a call from a number he doesn't recognize, he ignores it.
He does the same the second time too.
The third time, he waits for it to go to voicemail so he can block it.
“Why don't you just answer?” Hen asked, annoyed by his grumbling. “Might be something important.”
“No. Someone gave my number to a debt collector and I've been dodging calls for a Victor Fornell all week. It's nothing.”
He'd barely had time to block the number and resume his search for new bread recipes when Bobby was walking out of his office and calling out to him on the couch.
“Buck, Captain Dominick just called me.”
The name got Buck's attention fast. He stood. “The captain at 217? Why? Wh- What's wrong?”
“Calm down, Buck. Tommy didn't show up for work today and Dominick couldn't get ahold of him. You heard from him lately?”
“N- No. No, I- Was Captain Dominick the one trying to call me?”
Bobby nodded. “Apparently, Tommy put you down as his emergency contact a few months ago. Like I said, could be nothing,” he repeated, noticing Buck's heavy breathing, “it's just not exactly like him to not show up.”
“No,” Buck agreed. “No, it's not. Um, Boss, I-”
Bobby held up a hand to stop him. “I'm not stopping you,” he said, “but I also don't want you going alone. Chim,” he said, glancing around Buck to see all the others paying close attention, “why don't you head out with Buck and see what's going on?”
Chimney nodded, getting up and heading for the stairs. “Let me grab my bag and keys!” he called out to Buck. “I'll meet you at the car.”
Buck already had his phone pulled up to Tommy's name, typing out a text to ask if he was okay. He sent one text, then another, then another.
“Eddie, ha- have you talked to him at all? Since we, um, since the breakup?”
Eddie shook his head. “He broke up with you,” he reasoned. “I figured that's the end of that.”
“You're joking.”
“You're my best friend, Man, I wasn't gonna take his side.”
“Eddie, you've gotta b-”
“Okay, okay,” Bobby interrupted. “Buck, you need to get going.”
Buck turned his phone toward Bobby, eyes pleading. “He... He's not answering me, Bobby.”
“Go.”
*****
“His spare key is in one of these,” Buck said, lifting up rock after rock in the flower bed at the front of Tommy's house.
“We could try knocking on the door first, Buck.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Buck replied, waving Chimney off. “Try it. I'll keep looking.”
Chimney knocked three times, then waited. Called out Tommy's name, and knocked again.
“Maybe he's out?” Chimney suggested just as Buck found the fake rock.
“His car is here, Chim.”
“Could've gone for a walk.”
“When he's supposed to be at work?”
“Just trying to be positive here.”
Buck unlocked the door and entered slowly, afraid of what he might find. “Tommy?!” he called. “T- Tommy, it's Evan.”
“And Howie!” Chimney added. “You here, Buddy?”
They waited for an answer, then continued on into the house when they didn't get a reply.
It was dark inside, the only light filtering in through a couple of open windows.
It was messy too, which was unlike Tommy. He was always so put together; had a space for everything and liked it that way.
But now there were half empty glasses on the kitchen counter, dishes in the sink. Take out containers were on the coffee table in the living room.
There was also a ridiculous amount of plants on every available surface.
“I think Tommy might have you beat in the breakup grief department, Buckley.”
Buck ignored him in favor of calling for Tommy again. “Tommy! You here?”
“I'll check the garage,” Chimney said, he and Buck splitting up to cover more area. Buck headed down the hallway, tilting his head a bit when he noticed a light shining from underneath the bathroom door.
“Tommy?” Buck felt anxious in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. As he neared the bathroom, he heard a weak groan, and then the sound of someone shuffling.
Every horrible thought ran through his head in a matter of seconds. What if Tommy was hurt? What if someone had tried to murder him? What if that was the murderer on the other side of the door right now?
“I'm coming in!” he exclaimed, shoving the door open as he braced himself for whatever was waiting on the other side.
And there was Tommy, lying on the bathroom floor. Not murdered, but definitely not okay.
“Oh my God,” Buck breathed out. “Chimney, in here!”
Buck knelt down beside Tommy, who was curled on his side, eyes clenched shut, practically vibrating with chills even as sweat covered his face.
“Tommy, what's wrong? Wh- What happened?” he asked, resting a hand over Tommy's forehead. He was burning up.
“I- I passed out, I think,” Tommy replied, teeth chattering. He managed to turn his head enough to look up at Buck. “I- Why're you here?”
“Doesn't matter. Chim!”
“I'm here, I'm here,” Chimney said, rounding the corner. “Whoa! Whatcha doin' on the floor, Tommy?” he asked, managing to keep his cool far better than Buck.
“I'm really... I'm okay, guys.” Tommy's weak voice betrayed his words.
“Don't think that's true, Man. Buck, mind giving us a little room?”
Buck nodded, pushing the hair off Tommy's forehead before standing and moving to the doorway.
Chimney knelt beside Tommy, putting on a pair of gloves before beginning to look him over.
“You fall?”
“K- Kinda. I felt like I wa- was gonna puke, so I was l- l... leaning over the toilet. Then I must've passed out.”
Chimney began to feel around his head and neck. “Can you tell me the year?”
“2024.”
“Your name?”
“Tommy K- Kinard.”
“And where are you right now?”
“Ugh,” Tommy groaned, a look of disgust on his face. “My bathroom floor.”
“Alright. I don't think you've got a concussion, but there's definitely something going on.”
“Ya... Ya think?” Tommy deadpanned.
“There's that humor we all know and love. I need to look you over, Bud, but I'm gonna have to move you a little. Can you turn to me a bit so you're laying flat?”
Slowly, Tommy turned, briefly glancing up at an anxious Buck before closing his eyes. “Hurts,” he grunted.
Carefully, Chimney began to feel around his abdomen. “Tommy, you still got your appendix?”
Tommy shook his head. “No."
“What first brought you into the bathroom?”
“Had t- to pee.” He sucked in a shaky breath, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “Then puke. Then I mu- must've passed out.”
“Mm.” Chimney felt around Tommy's midsection, stopping when Tommy practically jerked away from him. “You been having pain in your side?”
“Mhm.”
“What about your back and/or groin?”
Tommy curled back in on himself, lying sideways on the bathroom floor. “Yeah.”
“Chim?” Buck spoke up from the doorway. “What is it?”
Chimney raised a finger at him. “One second.” He turned back to Tommy, pulling a infrared thermometer out of his bag and pointing it at Tommy's forehead. He whistled when the temperature popped up. “Quite the fever you've got there. Tommy, does it hurt when you pee?”
Tommy managed to glare aback at him.
“It's important, Bud.”
“Mmm,” Tommy groaned. “Mhm. Yeah, i- it does.”
Chimney nodded. He placed the thermometer back in the bag and rested a hand on Tommy's shoulder. “I believe that you, my friend, have a kidney infection. A pretty bad one at that. How long have you been hurting for?”
“Few... Few days. Not this bad though.”
“I'm gonna call for an ambulance. Infection this bad might've gone into your bloodstream. Buck's gonna stay with you while I wait outside for the ambulance, okay?”
“It's really,” he had to stop as a wave of chills came over him. “Really no problem.”
Chimney rolled his eyes, standing and turning to Buck. “I'm afraid he might be close to septic shock,” he whispered. “He's gonna keep fighting against going to the hospital though, however weak he might be. Talk some sense into your man while I put the call in.”
“He's not my-” Chimney pushed past him and headed down the hall, “man.”
Buck moved back into the small space next to Tommy. Hesitantly, he reached out, his hand hovering over Tommy's arm. He'd touched him before, when he was checking for a fever. That had been in a rush, without much thought.
Now, he wasn't sure. Wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch.
He pushed the thought aside as another almost violent wave of chills overcame Tommy.
“It's okay,” he soothed, running his hand up and down Tommy's arm. “It's okay. Chimney's got an ambulance on the way.”
“I think... I just n- need to rest. I- I'll be okay,” he tried to insist. “It's n- nothing.”
“Tommy, it's not nothing. You're crying right now.” Buck leaned forward, gently running his thumb across Tommy's cheek, wiping away a tear. He'd never seen him like this before, and it was terrifying. “Do you wanna try to get up? Would it be more comfortable to wait on th- the ambulance in bed?”
“Don't think I can. Everything gets t- to dizzy when I move.”
“Okay. That's okay. Here, why don't I...” Buck's voice drifted off as he maneuvered Tommy and himself into a better position. One where Tommy's neck wasn't awkwardly angled down in a way that was sure to cause him more pain later.
By lifting Tommy's head slightly (and slowly), Buck managed to slide between him and the bathtub. He straightened out his legs, one on either side of Tommy, then gently rested Tommy's head on his stomach.
Tommy, still on his side, unconsciously curled his hand around Buck's thigh, gripping onto his pants.
It was quiet for a bit, then, “Ev- Evan?”
“I'm here, Tommy,” Buck answered quietly, running his fingers through Tommy's unkept and sweaty curls, softly massaging his head.
“It r-” his voice was cut off by a jerk, chills prickling up all over his body, “really hurts.”
“I know. Help will be here soon.”
“I- I tried to ignore it.”
“I can tell. Not sure that was the wisest choice.”
The side of Tommy's mouth managed to lift into a small smile, but as soon as it was there, it was gone, a grimace taking over.
“Maybe... Maybe I j- just need t- to sleep it off.”
“Well, you can sleep it off at the hospital.”
“I don't... I don't think I-”
“You're going to the hospital, Tommy, whether you like it or not,” Buck interrupted, matter-of-factly.
Tommy jerked again, a little whine slipping out as he curled in closer to Buck. “I- I'm sorry,” he said, nearly whimpering. “I'm sorry.”
Buck wanted to cry. Tommy- big, tall, strong, Tommy- looked so incredibly small right now. Like a scared child, afraid he was going to get in trouble for being sick.
Buck held him the best he could without hurting him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Tommy.”
*****
When Tommy woke up, it was to Buck by his side. He was sitting in the visitor's chair, his head resting on the bed next to Tommy's thigh, their hands intertwined.
It made Tommy's chest ache. He wanted Buck there, wanted him to stay, but he didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve him.
Not anymore.
Tommy wiggled his fingers a bit. He didn't want to startle Buck, but he also thought it'd be best to wake him up.
Buck's head popped up quickly. He let Tommy go, using the back of his hand to wipe away the little bits of drool running down his chin.
“Good morning,” Tommy said, grinning over at him. “Or afternoon?”
“Night,” Buck informed him, causing Tommy to glance toward the window. A drawn shade blocked any potential view.
“I don't... I don't really remember getting here,” Tommy admitted.
“You, uh, you passed out in the ambulance. You'd wake up every once in a while, but you were kinda out of it.”
“Hm,” Tommy hummed. “Long day.”
“That was two days ago, actually.”
“Wow... Long week then, I guess.”
“Yeah.”
After a beat of awkward silence, Buck suddenly stood. “You thirsty?” he asked, pointing over toward the tray table. “I- I can fix you a cup of water.”
“Sure,” Tommy answered. “That'd be good.”
Buck nodded, but didn't move. He stared at the water, making no effort to actually go over and get it.
“Um, Buck?”
“The doctor said twelve more hours and you'd have been a dead man.”
Tommy closed his eyes, readying himself. He knew where this was going. “Buck-”
“What were you thinking, Tommy? You had to have been in pretty bad pain for a few days, at least. You should have gone to the doctor!”
“I know.”
“Or you could have at least called me, or Eddie, or Chimney. Somebody! Let someone know you were sick.”
“They're not my people to call, Buck.”
“Stop calling me that, and don't say that! I don't own them, Tommy, you could have called!”
“Are you really fighting a dying man right now?” Tommy pouted, wincing as moved himself up the bed slightly.
“You're not dying anymore,” Buck corrected, “and yes, I am! Seeing you like that, Tommy, it was... it was terrifying. The idea of you not being around i- is terrifying.”
“I'm sorry. Really, I am. I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't,” Tommy paused, taking a breath. “I didn't really think about calling anyone. It's not what I do when I'm sick. You just power through, you know? I figured I'd get better. Absolutely did not plan on passing out on my bathroom floor. Would have brought a pillow and a blanket with me, made things a little more cozy.”
Buck rolled his eyes. “You're using humor as a defense mechanism.”
Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Is it working?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Tommy sighed, but gave Buck a smile. “Listen, um, thank you for coming and everything. I'm gonna be fine though, so you can-”
Buck's face fell instantly. “I swear to God, if you're telling me to leave.”
“Buck-”
“I told you to quit calling me that! To you, I'm Evan, and I'm not leaving you! I don't know what it is about me that makes you think that that's what I do, but it's not!”
“Evan-”
“And I'm also sick of everyone telling me what I should or shouldn't do, so jot that down!”
“Evan-”
“And I'm sick of you acting like you're not worthy, or whatever the hell you're doing, because it's not true. And I also know you're doing worse than I am with our breakup, which I didn't think was possible! I saw your place, it's a mess! So don't you-”
“Evan!”
“What?!” Buck yelled.
“Why don't you sit down and we'll talk, okay?”
Buck eyed him curiously. “Really?”
“Mhm.” Tommy patted toward the chair beside his bed. “I think we both need it.”
Buck stood straighter, puffing out his chest. “Y- Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He went to sit, but Tommy stopped him before he could.
“But,” he said quickly, “could I get water first? I actually am thirsty.”
“Oh, damn it!” Buck exclaimed, eyes widening. He hurried over to the tray table, pouring a glass of water and grabbing a straw. “Sorry about that,” he said with a little laugh. “Got distracted, you know, yelling at you.”
“It's fine,” Tommy assured him. “I probably deserved it.”
“Oh you definitely did.” He shooed Tommy's hands away from the cup as he brought the straw up to his mouth. “Just sip, I'll hold.”
“Yes, Sir.”
They were both silent for a few seconds while Tommy drank, and then. “Tommy?”
“Yeah?”
“I- I want to be here, okay? I need you to know that.”
Tommy stared up at him, giving him a nod. “Okay,” he replied. “I want you here.”
#bucktommy#911#tommy kinard#evan buckley#911 abc#this is one of those I sat with for too long#and I hate it now#but I don't want to delete it because I spent too much time on it#so here you go#do with it what you will#go with god#rest in peace
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A CUP OF JEALOUSY, PLEASE | s.reid x reader
summary: in which a rookie agent tries to hard to get your attention, much of spencer dismay.
pairing: spencer reid x reader
content warnings: none, just pure fluff!
word count: 558
a/n: night, night! this is not my best work (still have doubts about posting it, but i kinda like it!) and it's the first time i write something about jealousy! a little late than usual, but that's it! also, my inbox is always open to chat (i love to talk and meet new people)! till the next one!
The cafeteria was particularly busy that morning, the aroma of freshly ground beans mingling with the faint buzz of conversations and orders being called out bit by bit. The team was scattered around one of the larger tables, enjoying a rare moment of respite. Spencer, sitting at the opposite end of the table, was leafing through an article on criminal psychology that he had printed out earlier, but his eyes didn't stay on the paper for long.
Every few seconds, he cast a discreet glance in your direction, mentally assessing the interaction between you and the rookie agent, who seemed to be much more interested in you than in the conversation.
“Really! You're the main reason I got interested in the FBI.” the rookie said with a broad smile on his face — too broad if Spencer could be honest. He was leaning forward as if he wanted to absorb his every word. “I heard reports about how you dealt with that killer in Seattle. It was brilliant.”
You laughed, trying to disguise your embarrassment. “It was teamwork, as always.”
The rookie shook his head, clearly not convinced. “No, really. You have an amazing way of dealing with things. It must be fascinating to work alongside you every day.”
Spencer, on the other side of the table, turned another page of the article with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the room. No one seemed to notice, except for you, who cast a quick, puzzled glance in his direction.
“Ah, you need to hear this,” said the rookie, leaning even closer. “Once, in training, I was told that an agent like you only comes along once a generation. I bet the criminals don't even know what hit them.”
The exaggerated laugh he let out soon after echoed through the café, attracting stares - including from Spencer, who couldn't hold back any longer. He put the article aside and stood up calmly, but his movements were jerky.
“Sorry to interrupt.” said Spencer, his voice firm but polite, as he approached. ”We need to go over some of the variables in the profile before the meeting later. Do you have a moment now, Love?”
You raised an eyebrow, surprised and relieved by the sudden intervention. “Of course. We can talk now.”
“Great.” he replied, glancing briefly at the newcomer, who gave him a slightly disconcerted smile. “Oh, and maybe afterward you can share your 'inspiration' with the rest of the team, agent. I'm sure we'd all love to hear about the unique generation of talent we'll have here.”
The newcomer looked confused for a moment, but you didn't care, as Spencer was guiding you away, gently holding your arm.
“That was… subtle.” you commented quietly, holding back a laugh as you walked off to the side.
“He was being annoying.” Spencer replied, his eyes still a little dark. “And exaggerated laughter has no place in criminal analysis.”
“Oh, I see,” you said, smiling at him. “Does jealousy have anything to do with it?”
Spencer paused for a moment, the blush creeping up his cheeks. “I just thought the conversation had strayed from its… professional focus.”
You laughed softly. “Thank you, Spencer. That was lovely.”
He opened his mouth to protest but ended up sighing, muttering something about variables while concentrating on something other than the amused smile on your face.
#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fic#criminal minds imagine
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I shall tell you a secret about your wool, your cashmere, the delicate fainting fabrics two whom heat is a death knell.
Necromancy is real.
Also, your dead wool may be better for it.
Also-also nobody here has actually said how to clean it without killing it so I'll add that too.
So - within reason, the doll's jumper is not going back to an adult, but hear me out here.
If you have washed your jumper a tad too warm, or on a normal wash setting, and perhaps it is now of a more suitable size for a child, a lot of the shrinkage may be caused by felting.
Felting is when the wet fibres, with the scales that make up the outer layer lifted by detergent and heat, lock to each other like tangled christmas lights. The more you agitate them, the more felted they get. This is why the delicate cycle on your machine doesn't so much churn up your woolens as it does let them soak and gently wavepool side to side occasionally to circulate the water.
Felted or boiled wool has no gaps. When all of the fibres have locked together it is windproof, nearly waterproof, and will never unravel. You can cut a hole in felt and it will only get bigger if you tear it bigger. Depending on the degree of felting it may be thicker now too.
With that out of the way, what is the necromancy side of this?
Well, if you get it wet again, depending on the level of felting, your wool will stretch right back out.
If you see a new wool garment, you'll see the washing instructions say "reshape when wet". This is because just like your hair, if you let it dry in a funny position it'll stay that way. We've all accidentally let one dry on a radiator or over a corner and ended up with a very odd shaped bit of fabric.
Felting is just a very funny position for wool. It's basically matted, wet hair.
I've seen recommendations for using hair conditioner and other products here to help loosen it up, which I haven't tried - certainly give it a go, especially if your jumper is more delicate or only a little felted. It may come back to life with no/very little further intervention. I've had great results with sheer brute force.
Disclaimer: I am a limp noodle and my idea of "pull hard" is not the same as everyone's.
Get that jumper absolutely drenched in your solution of choice (I do it after a wash so woolite, there are lots of guides and recommendations online for best results), grab it on opposite sides and pull. Enlist a friend for even better (and more even) results. Pull in the direction of the knit and across the knit but not diagonally if you can avoid it.
There will probably be concerning ripping noises if there's any more than a tiny bit of felting, like velcro pulling apart. It's fine. Keep pulling. (Steady pressure, don't yank)
Don't forget to do the arms in both directions too, you want them wide enough to get your own arm back inside them.
Stop when your clothing is the size and shape you want it to be. You can even try it on to be sure and wear it like shrink-to-fit jeans since wool is marvelously insulating and will be warm even when wet once you get over the problem of putting on a cold wet jumper.
Now, this is not a total fix - if you only a little shrunk it, it'll be good as new. If you shrunk it a lot it's probably gone down a couple of sizes even after you've stretched it back out like you're trying to tear it in half. You also need to remember to do this after every time you wash that particular garment. But hopefully some of you will save and wear some beloved items that you thought were gone forever.
Have fun!
Oh, and to clean your wool: -Pick up a wool-specific detergent (I use Woolite, there's lots) - and either
a) bung it in your machine on a delicates/wool cycle and be done with it, reshaping whilst wet and drying flat so the weight of it doesn't stretch it in funny ways over your airer (do not tumble dry, see felting above) or
b) hand-wash, which is a whole lot of swishing and squishing it about in a sink or bucket with the detergent and water at a comfortable temperature for you to stick your hands in. Avoid scrubbing on or with anything (no brushes, no stain remover balls, none of that) and if you have a stubborn spot grab two sections of the fabric and rub on each other like you're charging a defibrillator - as little as you can manage until spot is gone or you start to worry about the texture changing (felting again). A scrub with your hand from the inside can also sometimes get a stain loose by forcing the detergent up behind it and if you do felt it it's not as visible. Rinse a lot and wring out hard, then reshape and air dry it flat.
Here, a cheater course on caring for natural fibers!
1. Wool. Treat it like it has the delicate constitution of a Victorian lady and the conviction that baths are evil of a 17th century noble. (If I get in WATER my PORES will OPEN and I will CATCH ILL AND DIE.)
2. Cotton; easygoing. Will shrink a bit if washed and dried hot.
3. Silk; people think it’s like wool and has the constitution of a fashionably dying of consumption Victorian lady, but actually it’s quite tough. Can be washed in an ordinary washer, and either tumbled dry without heat or hung to dry.
4. Linen; it doesn’t give a shit. Beat the hell out of it. Historically was laundered by dousing it in lye and beating the shit out of it with wooden paddles, which only makes it look better. The masochist of the natural fiber world. Beat the fuck out of it linen doesn’t care. Considerably stronger than cotton. Linen sheet sets can last literal decades in more or less pristine shape because of that strength.The most likely natural fiber to own a ball gag.
#how to fix your wool#this is also how you get your knitting to be its intended shape if it's gone curly or a bit wonky. Wet and pin it to a board (blocking)#How to wash your wool#Also you can felt things on purpose. I have some deliberately shrunk large jumpers that are now small but twice as thick#Many secondhand jumpers are a few sizes smaller than their label and can be kept as-is or unshrunk at home
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i had a vision of pit fighter vi going to a bar and hooking up with the hot bartenders after she lost one of her matches 🙈
omg yes, absolutely.
this may have gone in a slightly different direction, oops 🫢
i feel like vi would turn to two things when she loses a match: alcohol and sex. usually at the same time. so she has her routine set, and loris lets her do what she needs to do to unwind.
she often tries to look for women who look like caitlyn. if they have the bluish-black hair or blue eyes, then vi's instantly taking them back to her small, unkempt apartment. if they have an accent too? even better because it allows vi to fully immerse herself in the fantasy she plays. where it's caitlyn who's with her and not some stranger she's going to kick out in the morning.
but there's something different this night; it doesn't start different, though. vi drowns her wounded pride and shame in bottles after bottles of booze. loris is a forever presence beside her, not getting in her way but ensuring she doesn't hurt herself too much. she's already pent-up, rearing to find herself a victim to sink her teeth into tonight when she sees you.
you're new at the bar, just started your shift, and you're mixing drinks like a pro. your smile is pretty; wide and shining as you speak with patrons and roll your eyes at sleazy flirting attempts. you seem too radiant for this place, sticking out like a sore thumb and that intrigues vi through her drunken haze. she's curious and, frankly, horny so she waves you over.
"what can i getcha?" you ask once you've made it to her side of the bar. your smile is even prettier up close, highlighting your already stunning features. vi feels herself go tongue-tied, but she recovers and aims what she knows a charmingly sloppy grin your way.
"would it be weird if i said you?" vi asks, peering up through her lashes in an attempt to be coy. "or am i overshooting here?"
"definitely overshooting," you snort, but you don't walk away. instead, you refill her drink and add, "but i wouldn't want to hit a drunk loser when she's already down."
usually, something like that would strike a nerve. and while it still does, vi doesn't feel as offended by those words as she should be. maybe it's because you're pretty. but a pretty face's never stopped her from cussing someone out before.
"i don't need your pity," vi attempts to spit out, to sound mean and intimidating. but it falls flat; sounds soft and a little slurred. "so if that's all you're offering then fuck off."
vi doesn't want you to fuck off, though.
she wants you to stay, and it's like you sense that because you don't move. in fact, you're staring at her, amused with a raised brow, that radiance of yours blinding.
"okay," you say easily. "but then you can't tell me what you actually want me here for."
vi's eyes widen, a slight jolt of shock sobering her up a bit.
"...what?"
"i know you, violet." her name rolls of your tongue perfectly. she wants to hear you say her name again. "whenever you lose a match, you drown yourself in booze and find someone to fuck." you reach for a glass behind the bar and set it on the counter. then you pour yourself a drink, smooth and elegant. "and i can only imagine that you're so interested in me because you want to fuck me, correct?"
vi swallows, feeling a bit too hot in her jacket. she doesn't answer immediately and that has you tilting your head to the side, a sly smirk gracing your pretty lips.
"do you want to fuck me, violet?"
god, yes.
"i want to fuck you," vi rasps out, flushed and pulsing between her thighs.
"good girl," you purr before tossing your drink back, showcasing the tempting curve of your throat and vi curses a little too loudly.
fuck.
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The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)
All Chapters List
XIX. Trouble (Smut!18+!MDNI)
Nulla sunt arcana quae tempus non indicat.
There are no secrets that time does not reveal.
J.R.
"Hanno?" You stammered slightly. It was strange to see him standing before you after such a long time and even more confusing to feel uncertain about how to respond. "Is that really you?"
He smiled, displaying his familiar smile.
"I think so."
That was exactly the sort of response he'd give.
"There he is!"
A man shouted from behind, momentarily distracting you. Hanno narrowed his eyes and swore.
"Get him! Quickly!”
Before you could even think, Hanno grabbed your arm and whispered in your ear, "I'll be at the popina (wine bar) near the gladiator school tomorrow." He took a quick look over your shoulder.
Geta looked alarmed when he saw the men running towards you. "Aurelia! Protect the princess!"
"I have to go now. I'll wait for you there, Aya."
You opened your mouth, but you couldn't say anything; you just watched him running down the street, getting away. The men stormed past you and ran after him, while Geta and the guards came to your side in a hurry.
"My lady! Are you alright?"
Geta grabbed your shoulders. "Did he do something to you?"
You shook your head.
At that moment, the sound of horses neighing echoed around.
"General!" one of the guards called out, looking backwards.
You both looked over there.
Marcus jumped off his horse, eyes narrowed, which made you nervous. He was looking at Geta's hands on your shoulders as he walked quickly towards you, so Geta swiftly removed his hands from your shoulders.
"Acacius, you are very intuitive."
But he did not look at him, his eyes fixed on yours. You smiled at him, though it was weak.
"My lady, I was not aware of your intention to visit here." His voice was filled with curiosity. He turned his eyes to Geta.
"I have asked her to accompany me here."
You were about to answer yourself when the men who had just chased after Hanno turned around with him, grabbing both arms. Geta stopped them with a raised hand.
They bowed to him.
"Who is this man? How dare you touch the princess? Speak!"
You looked at Geta, getting mad at him for mentioning 'touching thing' in front of Marcus. Just as you expected, he clenched his jaw, tensing up.
“I said speak!”
Hanno didn't answer, he just glared at him menacingly, which made them even more tense.
"Emperor Geta asked you a question!" Marcus snarled.
"He escaped from the gladiator school, Your Majesty. We've been looking all over for him." One of them replied.
"He's from the colonies, your highness. He only speaks his native language." The other one explained.
Your eyes widened as Marcus gripped the handle of his sword.
"He meant no harm," you said, your voice cracking.
"Gladiator?" Geta tilted his head and studied his face. He then looked at them and yelled. "How could you let him escape and roam free on the streets? You useless bastards!"
Hanno looked at Marcus in a slightly odd way; there was a clear sense of tension between them.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" Geta gestured with his hands. "Get him out of here now!"
You placed both hands on Marcus' as he gripped his sword. "I'm alright," you reassured him.
Your touch had the usual calming effect on him. But his expression didn't soften until the men pushed Hanno into the prisoner's carriage. Hanno gazed at you from within the cage as you watched his departure, and you struggled to keep a straight face while trying to suppress your feelings. Marcus looked at you, examining your face. "Are you certain you're alright?" he asked, knowing you well enough to read your facial expressions correctly.
You smiled and nodded. "I am, really. But I thought you were in the barracks," you said, glancing at Octavius behind him.
"I was..." Marcus said then turned his gaze to Geta. "There is an urgent matter. I need to take you to Palatine Hill."
Geta narrowed his eyes. "Is it about that bastard cousin of mine?”
Marcus glanced at the children gathered around you, and the people looking at you with curious eyes. "I think you'd better see for yourself when you get there. Shall we?"
"I simply hope that one day will pass without incident! Just one!" Geta grumbled as he walked with the guards to the carriage.
Marcus smirked then he turned towards you. "I believe you would like to come with us, my lady."
It wasn't a question or a request, but the way he was acting made you curious.
"I'd like to come with you, General, if that's alright. It's been over a month since I paid my respects to my father anyway."
"As you wish, my princess.” He was usually a bit hesitant about you going there, but not today, apparently. He helped you onto the carriage and winked at you before walking over to his own horse and getting on.
"General Acacius. Commander Darius. What is the meaning of this? Tell me what's happening here at once!”
You were as bewildered as Geta as you took in the scene before you on Palatine Hill. Nerissa, the slave girl you thought was dead, was alive—and she had a baby with her.
"Your cousin Elagabalus was holding this girl captive, Your Majesty," Darius explained. "My men found her and brought her here."
Geta's eyes widened in surprise. "Why would he do that?" he asked loudly.
You sat down next to Nerissa, who looked frightened. Embracing her, you felt her begin to cry. The baby was crying too; it seemed he had been born only a few weeks after your own. As a mother yourself, you could tell that the baby was hungry. “Why don’t you gentlemen talk outside?”
All three of them looked at you and nodded, except Geta, who frowned instead of nodding.and then all left. The girl then explained to you everything that had happened to her while she was breastfeeding the baby. After Flavius and his men had attacked all the slaves and wounded her, the other guards, the ones under Macrinus captured her. And after Macrinus was executed, they cooperated with the men of Leptis Magna and handed her over to them. And she said that she was already close to labour when Elagabalus found her. Poor girl was so exhausted and weak that she thought she was going to lose the baby. Compared to your chubby Marcius, the baby looked thin, he was two weeks to pass his first month and you couldn't hide that you were a little worried about him. In fact, Nerissa was a noble Greek, not a slave, she had told you her story before. Maybe that's why she was kidnapped. If Macrinus cared about this girl there must be certain reason of her importance. Suddenly the baby started crying again, you checked her breast, she must be low on milk.
"Give him to me," you said, holding out your hands.
"But, my lady…”
"My breast milk is enough for both my Marcius and your baby," you said with a smile.
She returned your smile and placed her baby in your arms. Unlike your chubby Marcius, this baby had silky golden blonde hair on top of his head, just like his father. She thanked you and prayed for you as the baby suckled at your breast. Just as you were about to hand the baby back to her, Julia burst into the room.
“What do you think you're doing?”
You glared at her and handed the baby to her mother, who flinched in fright. You stood up and approached Julia, not liking the way she looked at the girl.
"You get the hell out of here right now and take the child with you!"
She sat up but you stopped her by raising your hand.
"Why would she? After all, she gave birth to a boy, it's Geta's."
"So? The child can't inherit the throne unless Geta weds her."
"I am aware. You must free the girl first, then wed them."
"She's a slave! How dare you think she's worthy of our emperor?"
'You know your son's interest in her. She's a concubina, not an ordinary slave."
"Yet she's not his wife! The Senate wouldn't accept the child as an heir since it wasn't born from legal marriage.”
“That is why I’m saying you must wed them. She’s a captive of war, forced into slavery. Her family is noble, isn't it, Nerissa?"
The girl nodded, looking at her hesitantly. "Yes, my Empress. If we were to send word to my family in Athens, I'm sure they would be able to send you an answer.”
Julia put her hands on her waist, thinking. "You dumb girl. Why didn't you tell me all this time?"
Her cheeks flushed and she bowed her head. "Because I loved Emperor Geta with all my heart. He didn't want me to tell anyone about it, not even his brother Emperor Caracalla."
"All those fights they had... It wasn't just to share your cunt huh?"
"Lady Domna!" You barked.
She approached her, ignoring your glare. "Even if I can convince the Senate, I can't convince Geta. He's really determined not to get married." She looked at you out of the corner of her eye.
"I'll talk to him." You said without looking at her. Then you turned and looked at Nerissa. "Don't concern yourself. No one can get you thrown out of this palace. I'll make sure your family is notified."
"I'll take care of that, you try to convince Geta if you can. But I wonder one thing Aurelia. What's in it for you? What's going on inside that beautiful head of yours I really wonder?’
"Don't confuse me with yourself, Lady Domna. Some favors are given without expecting anything in return.."
She laughed hysterically. "You may deceive others with your gentle and innocent face, but not me. Helping all those poor people and winning the love of the people with this way was a good move. I would never have thought of doing such a sneaky thing. Well done."
"You wouldn't understand even if I told you about it, so I won't tire myself out."
You turned your back on her, leaving the room.
As you left Geta's chambers and walked towards the great hall, you noticed Octavius and the other Praetorians standing outside. You could hear Geta's loud voice coming from inside, so you went to talk to Octavius before entering. "I spoke with Decima," you said.
He looked up at you, a bit surprised.
"I will make sure to mention it to the general, so you can feel assured."
"Thank you, my lady. I really appreciate it. But if it's all right with you, I would like to speak with him myself first."
"Of course, Octavius," you replied with a warm smile.
He walked you to the door and the guards opened it for you.
Marcus and Darius looked at you. Geta however, his back was turned, resting his hands on the table. He then turned his head when he heard your footsteps.
"Commander Darius," you said, looking at him. "Would you please give us some privacy?"
"Yes, my lady," he replied, motioning for the other guards to step outside.
Geta poured himself a glass of wine and settled into the lectus behind the long golden-colored curtain.
Marcus grabbed your arm, "Perhaps it’s best if we don’t get involved."
You reassured him by touching his hand. "I just need to speak with him."
He let out a sigh, "I’ll be right here."
You smiled at him, then turned around and walked towards Geta. As you pushed the curtain aside with your hand, you noticed that he had already finished his glass. He turned it upside down and shook it. Quickly, you picked up the decanter from the table and poured more wine into his glass.
“He looks just like you, you know,” you said.
“Oh please!”
“What's the matter with you? Aren't you happy to see her again?”
“I'll die of happiness!” he replied sarcastically. You sat next to him. “You must marry her so the child can be your legal heir.”
He looked at you sternly, a look you had never seen before. “That's not how it works in Rome!”
“I know the truth about her,” you insisted.
“You know nothing, Aurelia!” he barked, then stood up angrily.
Marcus watched the two of you from a distance, clearly feeling nervous, but he waited patiently.
"We need to let her family know about all this. If you wed her quickly-"
"She does not have a family." He interjected emphatically, taking a moment to inhale deeply. "Caracalla had all of them executed."
"What did you just say?" you wailed.
Marcus stepped towards you as soon as he heard your loud voice. Still unable to believe what you had just heard, you didn’t notice him until he touched your back.
“It was before the revolt in Egypt. Her family came to Rome; they wanted to take her because she was the sister of their princess. That was one of the reasons the Greeks supported the revolt, Acacius.”
You looked at Marcus. It might sound a bit strange, but that rebellion actually brought you to him in a really unique way. After a moment of silence, you feel more determined to convince him.
“She must have had family left behind. You need to inform them about the situation. If you marry, it could be possible to establish peace between them and Rome, right? Additionally, if you appoint your son as your legal heir, you will regain their trust and take a step towards improving relations too.”
He folded his arms, “Marrying a Greek? I don’t think the Senate would approve of that.”
‘"Well, you must convince them, right?"
“I shall undertake that responsibility!" Julia's voice echoed through the great hall, filled with joy. "You must wed her, my son."
Geta looked at both you and Julia. "You two agree on that, huh? I’ll be damned." He then turned to Marcus. “What is your perspective, Acacius?”
"I am not a politician, Emperor Geta. However, it is undeniably advantageous for us that the Greeks refrain from participating in any future rebellions against Rome. So I agree with my wife, Lady Aurelia.”
You respected him; despite his modest denial of being a politician, he displayed considerable wisdom.
"I think I owe her that much," Geta murmured.
"We must start preparing for the wedding right away," Julia said with a smile. "But first, I need to invite the wives of the senators and discuss everything with them. They might be upset with me about this." Suddenly, her expression changed as she looked at you. "Aurelia, perhaps they'll be more easily persuaded if you join me. They respect you."
"Being in the same room with those women again? Not for me, Lady Domna," you replied. Julia was about to protest, but Marcus's stern gaze seemed to silence her.
"Then we ask for your permission to take our leave," Marcus said.
Geta nodded. "You may leave."
Marcus extended his arm, and you accepted it as you both departed from the hall. As you made your way out of the courtyard toward his horse, Marcus leaned in, whispering; “Aurelia, what is your intention?”
You met his gaze and lightly touched his face. “I am seeking to protect our son.”
He looked confused as he tried to understand your meaning. You took his hand. “Let us return home to continue our discussion; I miss our son deeply.”
He responded with a smile, gently kissing your hand. “So do I.”
“What you mentioned earlier...” Marcus said as he poured wine into his goblet. “I am curious about what you meant by protecting our son.” Marcius, seemed full, releasing your breast. He made the most beautiful sounds that filled the room with warmth and then drifted off to sleep peacefully.
“I meant to prevent him from being seen as the heir to the throne.” You stood up and gently put Marcius on the small mattress next to your bed. He seemed to fall into a peaceful sleep; at least, you hoped so. Marcus handed you one of the glasses and then moved over to watch him sleep. You took a sip from the glass and began to remove the fancy hairpins from your hair.
"You're afraid he might become emperor..." he said, covering him with the small blanket. "More than anything," you replied as you placed the hairpins into the box. "The weight of such responsibility is immense, Marcus. There will always be those who seek the throne and those who would want to harm him and manipulate him. How can I live with this fear? How can we live?" When you turned your head to look at him, you found him gazing back at you. He stood up and stepped toward you.
"I will be so relieved if Geta gets married as soon as possible," you said, yawning involuntarily. It had been a long and tiring day, first because of Hanno and then Geta.
Marcus's big hand reached behind you, grabbing your hair and sweeping it over your shoulder, leaving your neck exposed. Your tiredness instantly faded, replaced by something else entirely.
"I can't disagree with that." You swallowed as his warm breath licked your neck. And you gasped as his lips found your jugular. You closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to the sanctity of his touch. He wrapped his arms around you, under your arms, and pressed himself against you. One hand slid down, under the fabric of your tunic, touching your folds. You moaned quietly as he stroked your clit with his thick fingers. "Are you ready to be mine, princess?" His tone was so seductive that you would be damned if you did refuse him.
"I am-mmph..."
Your delighted moan was muffled as he mashed his mouth against yours, aggressive and lustful. You shuddered and wrapped your arms around his neck without missing a beat, mewling submissively even as his hands left your clit and moved to your hips instead, grabbing them firmly and sending jolts of excitement up your stomach. He then lifted you up making you laugh unashamedly as his hands squeezing your butt-cheeks beneath fabric even as your lips stayed connected. His tongue prodded your lips and you parted them instantly, letting out a horny whine as it invaded your mouth and dominated yours with embarrassing ease. As if to comply with that he held your ass more firmly, that being the only warning you got before he roughly laid you down on the bed. The little one's cooing made you break the kiss. But when you looked at him he seemed happy in his sleep. You whispered to him as Marcus' impatient fingers quickly grasped the hem of your tunic. “I love this tunic of mine, so please be gentle.”
“With your tunic maybe, but not with you.” He said grinning, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. He leaned down, his lips grazed down your collarbone, breath hot against it, and a moan rolled off of your tongue as he kissed the top of your breast and then sucked upon it harshly. You found yourself afraid that might be hurt but it didn’t.
The thought was purged from your mind though as he swiftly snatching your other nipple up in his mouth. You gasped, your hand ending up in his curly hair and tugging it; utterly melting as you felt his tongue swirl around repeatedly before he gave it a wet-sounding suck, tugging it out until your nipple sprung from his lips and left your breast jiggling a little. His face placed between your breasts a mere second later, growling lustfully as he rubs them and tickled you with his hot breaths. He didn't stay there for long. Planting another few quick kisses upon your flesh then with a rush of eagerness, he undressed himself, his movements fast, impatient. Simply making you aroused more.
Just like he said before, he wasn't gentle when he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you towards him. He had just placed your legs over his shoulders when a soft cooing stopped him. You both looked at each other, remembering that there were three of you in the room now.
“How about we skip this part for now?”
Marcus smiled and kissed your knee. “I'll make it up to you, I promise.”
He leaned down and kissed you; it was passionate, tender, eager, and even a little rushed.
But then, however, there was his erection resting against your stomach, precum dripping onto your flesh. You ran one hand through the precum and along the length. He gasped at the touch, pulling away from the kiss. You met his eyes as you brought him to your entrance. He grinned, baring his teeth.
“Eager I see,” he said in a heated whisper.
With a playful grin, you pressed your finger to his lips and whispered, "Acta non verba, my love.”
Then, with a seductive lean back and spreading your legs, invited him in. He had his need pushed against your clit, along the sensitive skin, through your wetness. You cooed, writhing for him to feel inside you. He gave you one more kiss before shifting slightly to grab the backs of your knees and spread your legs wider than you had them. He pulled out a few inches and pushes back in, easing you into his thrusts before he starts picking up and every time he thrust into you, stretching you, made you crave more and more. Sweat dripping down your brow as he thrust deeper, lifting you by your knees and bending your legs towards your torso. In this position where you couldn’t move very much, he took control, finding sweetest spot with his aching need. You couldn’t stop moaning and mewling, crying out his name as he goes faster.
When your moans became louder, his big hand covered your mouth, silencing you. "Sssh, you'll wake him up, love," he whispered, finding your ear through your hair. "And I don't want our fun to end just yet." You nodded and continued to moan into his palm. He kept covering your mouth with his hand as he carried on thrusting, each one deeper than the last. He was sweating from his brow and the sweat was dripping onto your chest. He wiped the sweat with the back of his hand and pushed his hair back, but it was no avail; it swayed downwards as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss.Then you two drew back, inhaled a breath, and reconnected. Eventually he removed his hand from your mouth, he just wanted to bring you both to the climax, he didn't care about anything else at this point. Effortlessly, he threw your legs over his shoulders and leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of your shoulders and taking you just right. He then reached around to get his fingers on your clit, rubbing relentlessly.
“Marcus” you cried, “Marcus please—”
You can barely heard him over the wet-sound of slamming against your body. “That’s right, my love. Say my name. Come for me.”
All the stimulation gets to you and you obey. You gush on his length to the point where he has to pull out and watch as you make a complete mess of the bed. The rest of your body trembling, hips thrusting on their own, and fingers clawing at sheets. You scream at this point and he has to cover your mouth again, but this time not with his hand, but with his mouth. You moan and whimper into his mouth, hoping that you have not woken the little one up.
"Look at that," he groaned, rubbing your throbbing cunt and you clenched. "Well done, my princess. You’re a good girl.”
Desperate for his need and his orgasm, you pressed your heels against his back. "Inside. Inside me, Marcus, please."
Saying your name, he suddenly plunged back in. You responded with another scream, arching your back and taking every hard thrust. His breath faltered and his moans grew louder. And... You'd just had a second orgasm, but if he kept it up, you'd have a third.
“Wish me to fill this beautiful cunt of yours up…hmm?”
“Yes,” you said between his thrusts, “Yes, my love, fill me in, Gods!”
“I will gladly grant your wish…” He snarled.
Marcus' at his loudest when he came inside you, giving you everything you want and more. As he pushed himself into you, you come again. This time there is no concern or intention to be careful not to make a loud noise. You tightened around him with every thrust, moaning with him and accepting the messy kiss he giving you. It was hard to kiss back when your breath is stolen, when every emotion hits all your nerves and you can’t think straight. He didn’t move once he gives you his last drop. A moment passes where the two of you simply catch your breath. And eventually, as a result of all this noise, the final expected happened and little Marcius began to cry.
You both looked at him, panting, and then back at each other, grinning triumphantly and mischiveously. When you feel the soreness hit, you wiggled your legs and Marcus got the hint. He carefully placed your legs back on the bed. You whimpered as he pulled out, and you could feel the mix of fluid drip out of your cunt. When Marcius started crying louder, you tried to sat up, but your most sensitive parts were throbbing a bit and your legs felt numb.
“Marcus, will you give him to me? I can’t feel my legs.”
He kissed your cheek. “Forgive me. Couldn’t help myself.”
You smiled. “Couldn’t help myself, either.”
He gave you a kiss before getting out of bed and you leaned against the headboard while you watched him tenderly take Marcius in his arms and kiss his head, caressing his little nose with his own. It was something you never got tired of watching, it was so sacred, so beautiful. Before Marcus placed him in your arms, he put a pillow behind your back and kissed the top of your head as you smiled up at him. He was rough when he made love to you, but he always blew your mind with his incredible gentleness and tenderness afterwards.
After having breakfast together in the room, you and Marcus visited the stables. You had become quite skilled at grooming lately, and it was incredibly peaceful. However, there was another reason for your visit. While you were absent-mindedly combing Unio's mane, thinking about what Hanno had said. You were having second thoughts about going to the place he mentioned. Would he have to escape again to get there? How had he ended up in Rome? How did he become a gladiator? You were startled by Marcus' touch on your waist. Unio let out a neigh as you accidentally tugged on her mane. To soothe her, you gently touched her nose and gave her a kiss.
"I see you really enjoy that, my lady," Marcus said with a warm smile.
You returned his smile. "I do. It has such a calming effect." You tapped the brush to remove the hair from its bristles.
Marcus let out a light sigh. "Well, I must admit that what I'm about to ask you to do might not be as calming." You raised your eyebrows in curiosity and narrowed your eyes when you spotted the wooden sword in his hand. "But this... it's made of wood..."
"I wouldn't hand you a sharp sword for your first lesson," he said firmly.
You placed the brush in the basket and picked up the sword, clutched it with both hands, examining. It was heavier than it looked. "It feels a bit like a toy," you murmured.
He touched yours with his wooden sword. "Rule number one: Whatever weapon you wield, you must forge an unbreakable bond with it; treat it as part of your arm.”
Your caring husband, Marcus, had quickly transformed into your stern General, Acacius.
"Yes, General," you muttered.
He smirked. "If you master this, you can begin using a real steel sword.” he encouraged you. "Remember, finding balance is essential in your early lessons."
"Balance?"
He nodded. "It's like dancing—using the right steps. Come with me; I'll show you what I mean." He took your hand and led you out of the stables, where he had taught you how to use a knife.
"Aren't you supposed to be on duty today?" you asked.
"I am, but I have time before I take my leave. Come."
When you reached the wide open space, Marcus took the wooden sword from your hand and stood in front of you.
"First, you must improve your agility. Catch it, princess!"
He tossed one of the swords towards you, but you weren't able to catch it, so it fell to the ground. “Whoa!” You bent down to pick it up. “Why did you... "It's not as if I'm planning to attack my enemy by throwing it."
He narrowed his eyes. “I see you’re feeling confident. Alright, what are you going to do with it? How will you use it? Tell me.”
"I should just stick the pointy end into my enemy, right?"
He grinned smugly. “Do you really think it’s that simple, my lady?”
You shrugged. “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
He opened his arms. “Very well then, strike me.”
With both hands, you gripped the sword tightly. Suddenly, you realized it wasn't as easy as you had thought, but you were determined not to embarrass yourself in front of him. Marcus struggled to hold back his laughter at the expression on your face. Ignoring him, you raised the sword and lunged toward him. As you initiated your attack, he effortlessly pushed your sword away with a flick of his hand, barely moving his arm. You staggered backward, nearly dropping the sword.
"It’s not as easy as it seems, is it? That’s why I’m telling you to focus on your balance first. In time, you’ll understand what I mean, and when I throw it to you, it will be much easier to catch. Now, think of it as a real sword and show me how you hold it. Try again." This seemed simple, but it quickly became clear from the look on his face that I was doing something wrong. “Now you are standing wrong. Turn your body side-face, yes.”
He came over and put one hand on your waist and the other under your chin. "Just, so, yes." Then he looked at your feet. "Spread your legs."
"I can do that," you said, grinning widely, thinking about things you did in your bedroom, like how he spreads your legs in there.
Be ready to be mine...
He kissed your cheeks, where they had blushed, and your naughty thoughts were replaced by a desire.
"Focus, princess."
"Apologies. I was thinking about something..." You batted your eyelashes.
He brought his face closer to yours. "Are you trying to get away from your training by seducing me, hm?"
"Maybe I am." You giggled.
"Well, you succeeded."
He leaned in and kissed you on the lips.You let go of the sword and put your arms around his neck, and the moment you touched his hair, the inevitable thing happened again – he lost it! He wrapped his arms around your waist, deepening the kiss. You let his tongue enter your mouth, and everything else in the place and the reason you were there flew away, there was only him and your warm breath through your nostrils, caressing each other's cheeks. Your hearts were beating rapidly with excitement. When you heard footsteps approaching, your lips suddenly stopped moving, breaking the kiss. Pulling himself back with some difficulty, he smiled at you, licked his lips, then turned his head in that direction.But you didn't, instead, you ran your eyes over his side view, admiring his gorgeous face.
"General!"It was Cato's voice.You pulled your hands away, but Marcus' hands were still around your waist.
"Cato, is something wrong?”
"I've been informed the Council is meeting today, sir. And Emperor Geta said he'd like to see you there during the session." Then he looked at you. "You too, my lady."
You frowned.
"Thank you Cato, get the carriage ready then."
"There's no need," you said firmly. "I’d better not attend."
Marcus lifted his eyebrows. "Do you have other plans, my lady?"
You looked away. "It’s an official council meeting. I don’t think there’s any need to disturb the Senate members with the presence of a woman. Besides, I planned to visit my cousin Paulina today."
For some reason, your tone sounded so convincing that it even surprised you.
"Is that so? You didn't mention that," Marcus said.
"I was going to..." you lied, feeling a wave of self-hatred wash over you.
Marcus's eyes weren't skeptical as they roamed over your face. "Well, I think it's better that you're there than at the council."
"I agree. Come, let me help you dress appropriately," you replied, grabbing his arm. He smiled, allowing you to pull him inside.
After Marcus left the villa with Cato, you made your decision to meet Hanno. You nursed Marcius and handed him over to Norell, then went up to your chambers to get dressed. It was almost noon by this time. Everyone in the villa believed you were going to visit your cousin, including Decima, who accompanied you in the carriage. However, when the carriage was halfway to its destination, you ordered the driver to take you through the streets of Rome instead. You put on your cloak, ignoring Decima, who looked at you in astonishment.
“I thought we were going to your aunt Antonia’s house?”
“No, we’re not.”
She opened her eyes wide. “Are we going to stalk the general again?”
You glared at her. “No, of course not.”
“Then where are we going?”
You tied the laces of your cloak and replied, “Decima, trust me and don’t ask questions. I promise I’ll tell you everything later. Stop the carriage!”
The coachman obeyed your command and halted the carriage on the east side of the Colosseum. The gladiator school was on its left, and the popina was at the corner of the street.
“There are no houses or shops here,” she muttered.
“I know,” you said, pulling the hood over your face and stepping out of the carriage. Decima stood up as well, but you stopped her.
“I’ll go alone.”
“But Aurelia—”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. I won’t be long, and Decima, this is between us, alright?”
She nodded. “Fine, but please be careful.”
“I will be,” you replied with a smile and began walking into the crowd. You weren’t wearing much jewelry; the last thing you wanted was for someone to realize you were their princess.
The street was less crowded than you had expected. Many people were discussing today’s council meeting and moving at a brisk pace toward the Roman Forum. Perhaps most people had gathered there, which would work to your advantage. When a group of passersby glanced your way, you quickly turned your head.
“Did you hear that General Acacius is attending too?” one person said.
“Yes, I wonder if the princess will be there,” another replied.
“We’re going there to see her anyway,” one continued.
“I think she will definitely attend,” another added.
“I’ll finally get to see her up close,” someone else said.
You smiled to yourself. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly.
After passing through a few more people, you looked around. You were now passing the gladiator school, and you shuddered as you remembered how you had last been imprisoned there. Then you thought of Hanno—how did he end up here? It was just one of a thousand questions you wanted to ask him. You quickened your pace, and when you saw the popina’s signboard, your heart began to race with anxiety.
The harmonious music, accompanied by the sounds of laughter and conversation from within, extended into the street, fostering an inviting atmosphere but not for everyone, apparently.
Please don't let anyone recognize me. Please don't let anyone recognize me.
You pushed open the double-leaf door. The people standing nearby turned their heads to see who was coming in, but they couldn't see your face and soon returned to their chat. One person glanced at you with curiosity but quickly looked away. Suddenly, the music stopped, and you froze, but it had nothing to do with your entrance—it was just a coincidence.
Soon, the music began again. You took a deep breath of relief and moved forward, scanning the tables one by one. You noticed a man in a black cloak sitting alone in the corner. You moved there and tilted your head to see his face, but first, you glanced around to ensure no one else was sitting alone. It must have been him. You leaned toward him and whispered, “Hanno?"
You were so startled when the man looked up at you that you jumped back. A bulky man with numerous scars on his face scrutinized you and then raised his eyebrows with a low curse. “Am I high already?” he asked himself.
“Oh, forgive me. I thought you were someone else,” you stammered.
He grinned widely, showing all his teeth. “I’ll be whoever you want me to be, beautiful.”
Just as you were about to turn away, his large hand grabbed your wrist. “Come on, sit down and have a drink with me—just one drink.” He pulled you toward the chair.
Was he drunk? At this time of day?
You struggled to free your arm, but you couldn’t even budge it. “Let go of my arm!”
“Come now, don’t be stubborn. A beauty like you doesn’t come along every day.”
“Look, I’m a married woman, and you wouldn’t even want to know who my husband is.”
He frowned.
“Let her go!”
You turned your head in the direction of the familiar voice. Hanno had pushed the man's arm away. “Damn it, Aldhard, didn’t I tell you not to drink after the opium?”
You crossed your arms. “So you two know each other?”
Hanno rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask.”
The man stood up and looked at both of you. “You little shit. You never told me you had such a beautiful friend. So that’s why you’re always running away, huh?”
“Go back and get some rest. You can’t go out in the arena tomorrow like this.”
The man huffed as he turned to walk away. “That’s why I’m drinking, you bastard.” He left, muttering curses in his native language that you had never heard before.
Hanno turned to you. “Forgive me for being late. But it’s hard to get out of there.”
You sat down in a chair and exhaled deeply. “Hanno, it’s strange to see you here after all this time. Especially as a gladiator.”
He settled into the chair where his friend had just been sitting. “It’s quite the story,” he said, raising his arm to catch the keeper’s attention. “I’m surprised you came, you know.”
“It wasn’t easy,” you replied.
“I guess you came secretly from your husband.” He smiled crookedly.
“I came secretly from everyone. You know why.”
"Yes, I was quite surprised to hear that. I can't believe you're a princess. I always knew you were special, but..."
A little later, a young man brought you a jug of wine and two glasses, along with a platter of chicken for two.
"The chicken here is really good. Come on, eat,” he said, spooning some onto his plate, opening his mouth wide, and starting to eat with appetite.
You reminisced about the meals you had shared together in the tavern back in Egypt.
“Forget about me and tell me about yourself,” you said as you dipped your spoon into the food. “How did you get to Rome? How did you become a gladiator, and where have you been all this time?” You brought the spoon to your mouth, not because you were hungry, but because the smell was enticing, and you wanted to taste it.
He didn’t look at you and continued to eat. “I was brought here by your husband.”
You nearly choked on your morsel, coughed, and sipped your wine. “What did you say?”
“As a prisoner of war.”
“Or did you fight alongside the Persian army against Rome?” Your voice was louder than you intended, causing nearby people to turn their heads. Hanno glared at them, and they quickly looked away.
“Hanno, what happened? Tell me everything.”
His blue eyes clouded, and his expression hardened. “Alright. That night…” He took a deep breath. “I mean, the night the rebels raided the Roman military camp. By the time I got there, they had taken all the Medici from the Valetudinarium.”
“Oh, right. Where were you that night?”
“I heard one of my friends was injured during the revolt, so I decided to go help him. When I entered the room to tell him I was leaving, Vicius mentioned that you were asleep. That turned out to be the last time I saw both you and him." He took a sip of his drink, looking gloomy. "The next day, Vicius' body was brought to the Valetudinarium along with the other Medicii. I personally took care of his funeral, all of his friends were deeply saddened. However, what was even more haunting was what they said. They claimed they saw you among the prisoners. They had killed him, and not only that, but they had also taken you as a prisoner. I was so angry that I ran to the harbor, but I couldn't catch up. The Roman ships had already sailed out to sea, just about to disappear over the horizon."
Your eyes filled with tears as you recalled that night.
"I apologize for not coming here sooner. My mother was sick, and I was occupied with her treatment, but I couldn’t save her. There were also many other patients to care for. Vicious was a skilled medicus; he was irreplaceable."
“Hanno, I'm sorry.”
“Aya, or Aurelia,” he said with a sad grin. “Why did you marry him? How did it happen?”
“Hanno, look…”
He interrupted, “After what happened to Vicius, all I could think about was coming here, finding you, and running away with you. I was certain you would be sold into slavery, and I couldn't sleep at night knowing you might be living a terrible life.”
“I wasn’t, actually. I love him, Hanno. He’s my life now. "We were planning to come here with Vicius, and now you know the specific reason why.”
“So, it turns out you and Vicius had a secret, huh?” He laughed. “All that time you were hiding in the Valetudinarium, trying hard to pass as a man, never going out in public, and his overprotectiveness toward you… I mean, it was obvious there was a reason, but I never expected you to be a Roman princess. I don't know what to say.”
“I found out when I came here, but how did you know I was married to the general?”
“Last week, I saw the two of you at the temple. People are always talking about you two. That day, they made us put on a little fighting demonstration at the Roman Forum. Honestly, I had a hard time recognizing you at first; you looked quite different from before.”
“I’m still the same person.”
“I doubt that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You're different; you've changed. Maybe your experiences have altered you, just like they have for me.”
“Why did you fight with the Roman army? You're not a soldier.”
“They needed a medicus and promised high payment. And you think I can't fight or something? Have you forgotten how many times I saved you from those filthy rats? They kept saying you were a scrawny young man and forced you to fight with them. Don’t you remember how I beat them up, girl?”
You laughed. “Yes, I remember.”
“Fighting against Roman soldiers seemed tempting to me. They said the rebels had joined forces with a small army in Syria organized by a Roman consul.”
“Macrinus?”
“No idea. I've never met him.”
“You can't. He's dead.”
“I bet your husband killed him, great Roman general.” He said mockingly.
You frowned and said, “Please don't talk about him like that. He's the bravest, most honorable man I know, and he's not as bad as you think. He’s also kind and understanding.”
“How touching. He wasn’t so innocent when he slaughtered hundreds on the battlefield, you know. He was like a beast.”
“It’s called war. What did you expect him to do? That’s what you did too—you fought and killed people, didn’t you? Besides, Vicius was killed by one of his soldiers, and he avenged him by killing that soldier in return.”
“But he took you prisoner—made you a slave.”
“He didn’t know who I was.”
Suddenly, he was distracted by the loud laughter of the women at the next table. You both turned your heads to look in that direction. Hanno reached towards you and pulled your hood more in front of your face.
“Don’t stare at them; we’ll get in trouble if they recognize you. And the ones sitting right behind us? They’re Spaniards. Believe me, they hate the Romans as much as I do. So whatever you do, don’t attract their attention.”
You didn't even want to ask why, but it was clear that the men and women were romantically involved, and the Spaniards seemed to be quite fierce characters. Suddenly, you realized that coming here might not have been such a good idea.
“Hanno, who bought you? If I talk to your master, maybe I can persuade him to set you free.”
He laughed. “I’m not a Roman, but I know that’s not how it works here. Tomorrow, I must fight in the Colosseum and win. That will bring me one step closer to my freedom.”
Your chest suddenly tightened. “But the Colosseum is too dangerous.”
“Are you worried about me?” he grinned. “Don’t be. I can take care of myself.”
“I’ll talk to my brother. I don’t know; there must be a way.”
He laughed hysterically. “Your brother? You mean the emperor? It’s not like he’s going to care about me. I don’t suppose you’ve heard the rumors about him.”
“He’s changed. He’s an emperor who cares about his people now.”
“Is he now?”
“Tell me his name. Who bought you?”
“Aya,” he growled.
“Tell me.”
“What will your husband say if you buy me?”
That was the real question. You sighed nervously.
“That’s what I thought.”
He raised his glass to his lips and drank it all.
Then he looked back over your shoulder. “Shit.”
“What the—”
“When I say so, we’ll run outside together, alright?”
“What? Why?”
“They realized I escaped. Again.”
"But why am I running? You're the one they're looking for."
"It's him! Stop right there!"
You stood up and looked over. It was the same guys from last time; they knew who you were. You tensed and took a step back, but suddenly you realized someone was touching you on your hips. In a fit of rage, you turned around and hurled his drink in his face.
"Do you think I'm a whore, you filthy bastard?"
As the man angrily wiped the wine from his face, you immediately regretted what you had done. When he stood up, the others did too. “Jódete, maldita perra (Fuck you, stupid whore)!”
“Watch your mouth, cabrón!” Hano yelled.
Your eyes and mouth widened when the men drew their swords, and you instinctively hid behind Hanno.
"I suppose you have a reason to run now," Hanno whispered to you.
One of the men who had come to take Hanno held up a hand to stop them.
"Return to your table now," he ordered.
“Do not tell me what to do, maricón!”
“What did you say?” He drew his sword.
“He said arsehole to you,” Hanno translated with a grin.
“Damn Spinards, I shall cut your tongue!”
Hanno seized the opportunity amidst the chaos and pushed him onto the other man, causing both of them to collapse to the floor. The impact knocked over a table, spilling drinks and food everywhere and creating quite a mess. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted dramatically, and everyone began to fight with one another. Hanno grabbed your arm and shouted, “Time to run!" He pulled you along as you both fled the scene.
When you got out into the street, you kept running faster, because the other men kept running after you.
“So you can speak spanish!” you shouted as you ran alongside him, your eyes scanning for the carriage.
“Only swear words!” he replied.
“Ugh! I hate you!”
“I’m not the one who spilled his drink all over his face!”
“You're the one swearing at them!”
The guys chasing after you were shouting something in spanish, and it was not hard to guess what they were saying.
“Aren’t you a gladiator? Can’t you fight them off?”
He laughed nervously. “I don’t think you realize how many there are.”
You looked back, and your eyes widened when you saw at least ten people.
“Where the hell did they come from?”
“I warned you about Spaniards! They are overprotective!”
“The carriage is just over there!” You said, pointing east of the Colosseum. “If we can get there-“
“No, not the carriage! They'll catch us before we get on!”
“What are we going to do?”
“I know a safe place; if I hide you there, I can escape them myself.”
When you looked back, they were still running insistently. Desperately, you searched for the carriage, realizing you had no choice but to follow Hanno. Fortunately, you soon reached the place he had mentioned. It was the barn of a house.
“The owner is old and deaf; he doesn’t come to the barn much,” Hanno said as he removed hay bales one by one to create a hiding spot for you. “Come, you’ll be safe here.”
“But for how long? What will you do?”
“I'm going to make them follow me down the road and I'm going to grab a sword from one of them and fight them. After I get them away from here, you run to your carriage, alright?”
You nodded. “Be careful.”
He smiled and looked back as the voices drew closer. "Hide well," he said before leaving the barn. You could hear his footsteps followed by those of his pursuers. You waited patiently until all the sounds faded away. Soon, the only noise was the gentle bleating of the lambs.
Standing up, you began to push the hay bales aside one by one. The smell was almost unbearable; if you were pregnant like before, you would have been violently sick. You brushed the straw out of your hair with your hands. Your legs ached from running, but you knew you had to reach the carriage no matter what.
You slowly stepped into the courtyard of the house, observing your surroundings. Fortunately, no one was in sight, except for the chickens, which, frightened by your presence, scattered away. The street was quiet, with just a few people who looked at you with curiosity, but you were too exhausted to care. After walking a bit further, you realized that you were very close to the street where the carriage was located, so you picked up your pace and walked there with relief.
Decima asked you questions along the way that you struggled to answer, and you responded as simply as possible. However, your real fear was what you would face when you got home—your clothes and everything else were a complete mess. You needed to get home before Marcus arrived. You couldn't help but worry about Hanno. Would he be able to fight those guys off? Would he be able to save himself? You had known him well since childhood, and you shared many memories together that were impossible to forget. No one could have predicted that things would turn out this way; it felt like a cruel twist of fate.
When you arrived at the villa, it was already evening. You and Decima got out of the carriage and walked into the courtyard. As soon as you stepped inside, you froze. Marcus was standing in the center, still wearing his formal white toga. He struggled to drape the shawl over his shoulder, as he didn't often wear this type of toga. However, the stern and confused expression on his face wasn't due to this difficulty; it was because he saw you with your clothes in disarray.
"Leave us alone," he said sharply, his gaze fixed on you. There was no one else around; he had directed that command at Decima. You bit your lip as she left the courtyard, leaving the two of you alone. He stepped towards you, inspecting you from head to toe so quietly that you wondered if he was trying to suppress his anger. Finally, he exhaled a deep, ragged breath, his dark brown eyes boring into yours.
"Where have you been?" he asked in a deep, almost growling voice. "I need an explanation right now."
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Look at me…
Warnings:: SMUT (I’m not going to say MDNI considering I used to read these all the time when I was a minor), possessiveness if you squint, dirty talk, begging, crude language, just missionary, spit/spitting, talks of pregnancy as a form of dirty talk, squirting, hickies, unprotected sex (DONT BE SILLY, WRAP YOUR WILLY.) SoftDom!Niki x WhinyFem!Reader, Niki IS an adult and if you disagree then you can fuck right off with your delusions. Proofread!
“Oh, fuck-“ it comes out in a choked gasp as you slowly take Niki all the way, him slowly driving his cock deep inside you. “S-so…full-“ you say with difficulty, as you rake your hands down his bare back. He sucks in through his teeth when he bottoms out. Niki leans lower, large hands gently brushing hair off your face as you take deep breaths, taking time to take his fat cock. “Nice and full. You’re so good to me, baby.” He gently kisses you, rocking his hips gently to replace the pain with pleasure, which he does with ease. “So tight, all f’me, yeah?” “Yeah.” You whine out, “All…yours.” You sigh, eyes fluttering shut.
With time, Niki speeds up, to the point his hips are mercilessly hammering into your sopping pussy, rambling. “Fuck, baby. Keep looking at me, wanna see you fucking cum. Oh shit, shit shit.” Niki grinds against you, your clit coming into contact with his public bone as he grinds up messily against you. “Need you to cum in me, baby. Please, god I need this so- fuck!” You’re too far gone, only being able to take his sticky sloppiness as he pounds into oblivion, the smell of sweat and pure sex fogging the room. “Take it. Take-this-fucking-“ every word is followed by a hard thrust. “Dick, oh shit- I’m gonna cum.” He whines out, sending signals straight to your clit. Your legs wrap and lock around his waist, keeping him where you both want him to be. “Give it to me, baby. Give it to me.” You feel yet another orgasm rushing straight from your clit to your stomach, the band winding so tightly that you’re slightly scared for it to snap. “Gonna cum inside, give you my fucking babies and make you a mama. Fuck-“ a guttural whine escapes from his chest, awakening a form of feral-ness you didn’t know you held. You’re cunt is begging him to make that noise again, pussy throbbing, tightening around Niki’s big dick. “Fuck!” He moans again with a snap of his hips. “You just got so fucking tight then.” His pace becomes irregular, begging to cum because it hurts. “Don’t take your fucking eyes off me. Take my fucking dick while you look in my eyes.” His hands hold the side of your face, holding your head so you can only stare back up at him in a lustful gaze. Niki thinks you look so heavenly sinful with your hair ruffled, lips swollen and pink, covered in his spit as he drops globs of saliva into your mouth, neck adorned with dark crimson bruises. “I’m going to cum again.” You announce; your hips raising, inviting a new angle as you brace for an orgasm that feels weirder, almost like you need to pee. “Wait, baby-this feels diff- ohhhh shit.” Your orgasm rushes to you, a very powerful, delicious orgasm as you squirt everywhere, having it land mostly on Niki’s abs and pubic bone. He sits up, so he’s resting on his knees as he stares at your pussy in nothing that could’ve been mistaken for awe. “Baby girl just squirted all over-me. Fuck!” Niki’s hips speed really quickly until they completely come to a halt, a chest-heaving whine leaving his swollen, wet, bleeding lips caused by immense lip biting. “Good girl, oh good girl.”
THIS SMUT IDEA WAS GIVEN FROM A SMUT AUDIO OF NIKI! When I find the creator I’ll tag them. They start with ‘Yucky’.
UPDATE:// the creator I got this idea off of’s user is in my comments, under the helpful user who helped me remember. Please, check out both creators!
#Enhypen smut#niki smut#Niki hard thoughts#Riki smut#enhypen nishimura riki#nishimura riki#enhypen#smut
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My original PhD Dr is about 50-60 years old always with the lose weight prognosis.
Then I got a FNP-C/FAMILY NURSE PRACTITIONER that works under her who is like early 30s and bro did I get the care I needed and she is more than happy to help me figure out my post covid shit ass body. And has never once said or implied that I need to lose weight.
Currently I weigh 330lbs
On my part though I make sure I reference medical research papers and not just pissvortex on Tumblr when bringing forth my findings and observations.
And we figure out what we can do.
And I figured out that constant feeling of hunger I've had all my life is one of the main drivers for my anxiety. The human body is not prepared to live in a world with easy access to food and still thinks you gotta eat every precious berry you come upon.
That being said I did get put on bupropion xl and boy does that shit work. That side effect of smoking cessation also works for food. I've lost 30lbs in two months because I can intermittent fast no problem now.
I once stopped taking all my meds to observe myself and BOY did I feel like eating my own flesh from how insanely hungry I felt even after I had just eaten, I also had the insanely strong desire to steal food. Like bro this instinct is no joke.
Here's my food schedule after bupropion
Wake: protein bar and maybe coffee because I take All my meds in the morning and they make me nauseous on an empty stomach. On my days off I'll eat an actual breakfast but it's usually eggs and sausage or something.
cheese or protein bar (more than 10g of protein) or handful of nuts and dried fruits w/honey or cane sugar if I feel energy deficient through out the day.
5-7pm eat whatever the fuck I want.
7pm-bedtime Greek yogurt with cinnamon, honey, and chopped fruit with Splenda if it needs to be sweetened up a little bit more. I use the tiniest spoon I have, because it's cute, fun, and takes me longer to eat, thus satisfying my desire. Protip DO NOT put it in separate dish or you will feel the need to refill the dish once it's empty and that will make you feel sad.
Also use a tiny cup to drink anything that isn't water, you'll be a lot more satisfied than just gulping it down.
I have an alarm on my phone at 7pm just in case I do forget to eat.
I don't count calories because fuck that micromanaging bs.
Anyway hope this helps someone out there.
it’s also fucked up that fat people literally fear going to the doctor for anything because they know the first thing out of their dr’s mouth no matter what their ailment is, is gonna be “lose weight lol” broken leg? lose weight. rash? lose weight. whooping cough? lose weight binch!!!!! like we get it. but can you just write my prescription you bitch so i can go eat a salad and not call you again until im about to die of the plague????
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 - 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐁 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 title: champagne confetti - side B pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: tba beta read by @chaoticpuff17 release date: january 2025
Prompt 1: “you give me brand new emotion, you got me drinking that potion” Prompt 2: The lines did blur, in his mind for sure. Will you be tamed or will your passion for fashion falter for greater good - a life without Jeon Jungkook. When everything you’ve worked for hangs in the balance, his twisted love comes as both a gift and a curse.
summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?
warnings: minors dni 18+ | physical violence, hint of incapable police department, jk is the boy saviour here and everybody bends backwards for his famous ass, dubious consent, possessive/obsessive behavior, emotional manipulation, references to medication that affects mental and physical responses as "drugs" or "pills" or "medication", power imbalance, themes of isolation and confinement, gaslighting, mentions of mafia and criminal underworld, forced intimacy, oral sex (m!receiving), numbness, reader's difficulties getting wet, use of lube, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, riding/cow girl, orgasm difficulties, creampie, and so on (if i'll forgot smth, im so soorrryy!)
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.
this is a sequel, read part one of 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧��� 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 main masterlist
author's note: so, where to start right? this was a long ass ride, mainly because i was fighting with myself to not burn out on this fic coz i loved it so much, and i still love it, but i won't lie that i got lil overwhelmed with how much love this fic received. I am so so so grateful for each and one of you! ♥ and thank you for your patience too. Life's not easy, please understand that, i always try my best. Thank you all. OH! I hope you will, have, or had very lovely and holy, merry christmas fairies ♥
You looked down at your mug, swirling the mulled wine as you gathered your thoughts. “I... I think I’m ready to go back to work,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
The change in Jungkook’s demeanor was immediate. The warmth in his eyes flickered out, replaced by something harder, colder. He set his mug down on the counter with a soft clink, his posture stiffening.
“What makes you think that?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm, but you could hear the edge beneath it. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.
“I’ve been good, haven’t I?”
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied you, the tension between you palpable. He took a step closer, his presence imposing.
“You have,” he admitted, his voice low and measured. “But that doesn’t mean you’re ready to go back out there.”
You felt a pang of frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I need to feel normal again, Jungkook. I need to get out of here, to do something meaningful.”
His jaw tightened, and he reached out, gently but firmly taking the mug from your hands and setting it aside. His fingers lingered on your wrist for a moment, his touch both comforting and possessive. “This is meaningful,” he said, his voice softening just a fraction as he looked into your eyes. “Us, here, together. This is your life now, Y/N.”
“But..but you promised.” Jungkook's expression flickered, a brief moment of conflict passing through his eyes before his gaze hardened again. He took a deep breath, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he processed your words.
“I promised to keep you safe,” he said, his voice firm but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite identify—fear, perhaps, or desperation. "And letting you go back to work... it's not safe for you now, Y/N.”
You pulled your wrist free, taking a step back to create some distance. “I can’t stay cooped up in here forever, Jungkook,” you said, your voice trembling but determined. “I need to feel like myself again. I need to be around people, to do something other than just exist in this penthouse.”
He took a step closer, his hands reaching out to cup your face, his touch gentle but his eyes intense. “You are my life now,” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. “And I can’t lose you. Not to anything or anyone.” You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch despite the turmoil inside you. Jungkook’s thumb brushed over your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
“Freedom comes with risks, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of love and possessiveness. “And I’m not sure I can handle those risks.”
“I promise I am not plotting, Gguk—” you began, but Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, his grip on your face tightening ever so slightly.
“Are you not?” he cut in, his voice low and dangerous. The hint of desperation from before was now replaced with a cold, steely resolve.
“Just give me a chance to prove—” His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of deceit.
“I don’t know if I can trust that, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice filled with an unsettling mix of love and possessiveness. He was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tight with tension. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his grip on your face softening.
“We have a family dinner coming up. It’s important, and everyone will be there. If you can behave, show that you can handle yourself around my family, then maybe... just maybe, we can talk about you going back to work.”
The implication of his words settled over you like a weight. This wasn’t just about proving yourself to him; it was about proving yourself to his entire family. The thought was daunting, but you knew this might be your only chance. To get away from his grasp.
“I'll do my best,” you said, your voice trembling with a mix of determination and anxiety. “I promise.”
A small, almost tender smile tugged at the corners of Jungkook’s lips. “Good,” he said softly.
You swallowed hard, the pressure of the upcoming dinner weighing heavily on you. “Who will be there?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Everyone,” he said simply. “My parents, all of my Hyungs... among whom someone can offer you a position if you make a good impression.”
This was your chance, and you had to take it.
“I’ll be on my best behaviour,” you promised, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.
You stood there in Jungkook’s arms, the Christmas lights twinkling softly around you, you resolved to do whatever it took to reclaim a part of your life.
“Now, show me how good you can warm my cock this Christmas.”
.
.
.
.
.
𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧
©pennyellee. please do not repost
tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy (was unable to tag) - @mylyus-blog (was unable to tag) - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim - @doulcha - @sexytholland - @minyngrl-blog - @mizuumii (was unable to tag) @ali99eel - @loomipee @jkslvsnella - @tearykth - @iveivory - @lachimolalajeon - @mother2monsters - @junecat - @mayvalentine33 - @ttanniett - @elle0604 - @mageprincess7 - @laylasbunbunny - @ashthetic7 - @00frenchfries00 - @weareatthebadlands (was unable to tag) - @annafarrr -
Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥
see ya soon, love, p.
#bts fanfic#bts#bts fic#soft yandere#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook smut#bts jungkook#jungkook seven#jeon jungguk#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x calvin klein#jungkook x oc#jungkook x y/n#jungkook yandere#bts x reader#jungkook scenarios#bts jk#bangtan#bts smut#yandere bts#yandere jungkook#90s aesthetic#fashion au#heartthrob#fic: champagne confetti
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You've shown them as parents....but what about the 141 guys as first time dads? Like how are they during the delivery or the first time they held their baby? It doesn't have to strictly be a hospital setting, maybe it's a home birth?
Surprisingly, you're not the only person who asked this. I had two others ask for something really similar to this. So, this is me combining them all into one post!
cw: childbirth, fluff, pregnancy
Soap who is playing video games on his phone during the early stages of labor. Soap who also sets the video games aside when you go into active labor. Soap who is nervous but does his best to not show it (and does a terrible job not showing how nervous he is.) Soap who tries to dissolve the tension and anxiety by cracking jokes. This earns him a smack over the back of the head and a verbal threat of divorce. Soap who is locked in and focused during delivery, doing his best to encourage you as you push. Soap who grimaces when you squeeze his hand too hard but doesn't complain. Soap who watches the baby emerge with shock, awe, disgust, and fascination. Totally makes an inappropriate joke about it. Soap who is grinning from ear to ear once that baby is placed skin-to-skin in your arms. Soap who never stops smiling the rest of the time while in hospital and on the way home.
Gaz who supported your choice for a home birth over a hospital birth even though he disagrees. Gaz who does everything possible to assist the midwife and doula but still makes sure you have his entire attention. Gaz who does his best to speak calmly and soothingly to you even though he's anxious. Gaz who packed bags just in case you have to be transferred to the hospital. Gaz who allows you to cling to him and moan into his shoulder as you push. Gaz who cradles you in his arms as you’re handed the baby. Gaz who cherishes the skin-to-skin contact with his newborn when it’s his turn to hold them. Gaz who is realizing his whole world is starting to shift to surround this tiny human.
Price who tries to appear like he's in control of himself and his emotions Price who does his best to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. Pillows fluffed? On it. Back rub? He won't stop until you say so. Anything, and he'll see it done. Price who severely overpacked and brought far too many things to the hospital. Price who constantly holds your hand, refusing to let go. Price who worries that the worst might happen even though he knows you have a great team taking care of you. Price who is so ready to be a father but is also terrified. Price who is in awe of you for going through this process and vows to cherish you even more every day for the rest of your lives together. Price who can't stop admiring the tiny little human that came out of you. He's obsessed with the itty-bitty fingernails and toes.
Ghost who is outwardly calm, cool, and collected, but internally is a mess. Ghost who is hyper focused on you. Whatever you need or want, you get. Ghost who is the first voice in the room to advocate for your health and safety. Ghost who appears scary and ominous to those around him, but is completely gentle and encouraging with you while you labor. Ghost who never flinches or complains when you squeeze his hand too hard. Ghost who never leaves your side during the whole ordeal. Ghost who tells you how proud he is of you while stroking your hair as you cradle your newborn against your chest. Ghost who, when he finally gets the chance to hold his child in his arms, doesn't want to put them down for anything. Ghost who realizes he now has the chance to be the father that he wishes he had growing up.
main masterlist
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#ghost cod#price cod#gaz cod#soap cod#ghost x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader
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Hey! I've recently joined tumblr and I'm obsessed with your poly!Marauders×fem!reader fics. They're so so sweet and it just heals something in me. I'm not entirely sure if you're taking any requests at the moment so if you aren't, please feel free to ignore this completely.
Um, i was wondering if you could write about the reader being pregnant and having a scare in the middle of her pregnancy that has them all worried about her and the baby(s? As you wish again) so they rush her to the hospital and their anxiety and relief and how they handle the situation would be sweet to see i feel.
I love me some angst before a happy ending, so feel free to make this as angsty as you wish, I would be more than happy to just have the opportunity to read your work on my prompt.
Thanks for reading, again no pressure to write this if you're uncomfy.
<3
so glad you've enjoyed my works! thanks for your request <3
poly!marauders x afab!reader who has a scare during her pregnancy [2k words]
CW: fem!reader, pregnancy fic, I'm not a doctor nor have I ever been pregnant myself so this is likely not entirely realistic - my apologies for any inaccuracies, reader notices bleeding about halfway through her pregnancy, first pregnancy so they're all very nervous and tense, hurt/comfort, everyone's fine
Your silence was perhaps the most concerning part in Sirius’ mind.
You were slightly hysterical when you first called to the boys from the bathroom; your voice a few octaves higher and breathing somewhat erratically as you explained that you were spotting.
Remus, ever the fixer, immediately went into diagnostic mode. Sirius wondered if that hadn’t ultimately contributed to some of your anxiety. How much blood? From where? Was it in your urine or external? Could he see?
You seemed torn between being mortified that he wanted to see your pink tinged urine and horrified that you’d flushed before he had a chance to inspect it for you.
“That’s alright; hey, it’s okay dove. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He had assured you. You didn’t seem convinced.
James insisted he carry you to the bedroom, and it was a testament to how freaked out you were that you actually let him, even though the edge of your shared bed was a mere 15 steps from the bathroom.
James had you tucked into his side as he rubbed soothing stripes up and down your arms, a concerned divot making itself home between his brows as he volleyed questions back and forth with Remus who was quickly making some quick searches on his phone and you stared unseeingly at the carpeted floor.
Sirius, ever the useless sod, stood with his arms crossed, gnawing on the skin surrounding the nail on his thumb as he kept his worried gaze locked on the side of your face.
When he got off the phone with your obstetrician, Remus eventually suggested - in his most calm, authoritative voice - that they take you to A&E.
You haven’t said anything since.
Sirius packed you a bag - just in case you needed to be admitted for an extended period of time - whilst James and Remus helped you put on your jacket and shoes before helping you into the car. Again, Sirius knew just how freaked out you were that you even let them fuss over you as such; the fact didn’t seem to be lost on Remus or James either, who shared a concerned glance over your head as James fastened your buckle and Remus shut your door.
Sirius’ gaze kept darting to the rearview mirror where he could see James’ eyes on you as you kept your own gaze pointed out the window, watching the passing cars as you chewed on the quickly nearing raw skin of your lips.
“Still feeling okay, dove?” Remus asked, feigning repose. You offered him a hum of quasi-confirmation.
“We’ll get you all sorted out, angel. You’ve nothing to worry about, okay?” James assured you, clearly going for light and breezy, though his facade fell quickly when a breathy sob escaped you.
“Are you okay, dove?” Remus urged, turning nearly dangerously in his seat to face you. “Does anything hurt? Do you need us to pull over?”
“Remus…” Sirius warned, darting a nervous look to you and James in the rearview mirror.
“Can we just…stop talking? Please?” You begged, sounding so small as you hid behind your hands and rubbed harshly at the tears in your eyes.
Remus and James both looked as though they wanted to argue the matter, but Sirius quickly agreed. “Of course, gorgeous. We’re almost there.”
Sirius could feel Remus’ helpless gaze settle onto the side of his face, and he casually reached over the console to place his hand on Remus’ thigh as he often did when Sirius drove, though this time he offered his knee a comforting squeeze.
Remus let out a shuddering breath, and Sirius simply hoped you couldn’t hear it over the thundering of your pulse in your ears.
He stole one more look at James and exchanged a sad smile with him before returning his attention to the road.
The admission process passed by in a blur. Sirius sat in a chair with you as Remus spoke to the intake nurse and James paced nervously a few steps behind him.
Sirius had no words to offer, but you had also been clear about the fact that you didn’t want any, so he simply held you tight and tried to infuse as much strength and love as he could through every point of contact his body made with yours, and prayed that it’d be enough.
“So, Miss. L/N, this is your first pregnancy?” The doctor asked you as she looked down at the notes in your chart.
You cleared your throat before answering her. “That’s right.”
“How far along are you?”
“Twenty weeks.” You offered meekly, shooting a nervous look to Sirius who hoped his encouraging smile translated properly. “And two days.”
The doctor smiled at that. “Half way through. That’s great.”
Though James tried to smile back, no one else in the room could bring themselves to share in the excitement.
“So it says here you noticed some spotting. When did that start?”
“Just today,” you responded quickly, “it wasn’t…a lot. Sort of like…like the first day of a period, I suppose? Except…lighter in colour. I don’t know, I’m sorry, I’m not explaining this very well.”
Sirius itched to reach out for your hand as you started to sound slightly panicked, but fought the urge. Remus hadn’t fought the urge; his hand was promptly shaken off of your form.
“No, that’s perfect. That was going to be my next question; how you would relate it to your cycle.” The doctor assured you. Sirius’ shoulders relaxed when he noticed you take a breath of relief, too.
“Have there been any other concerns as of late? Any falls, any pain, any cramping?”
You shook your head no at all of them.
“Okay, let’s take a look then, shall we?” She asked, and Remus supported you as you shuffled towards the head of the bed, this time without pushing him away.
Sirius didn’t think it was possible to feel more anxious than he did that very first ultrasound after the two pink lines told the four of you that you were pregnant, but he wondered if maybe he couldn’t also ask for one of those plastic bucket things as he felt bile rising in his throat whilst waiting for the doctor to spread some of the gel onto your stomach and press the wand-like camera to the space just above your pelvis.
It seemed as though the four of you were holding your breath as the doctor moved the camera around and you all tried to follow along with the images even though you really had no idea what you were looking at.
And then Sirius saw it; a flutter.
“Well, you’re doing a wonderful job, mama.” The doctor said as she turned the monitor further to ensure you could see properly. “Your little one has a strong heartbeat, and they’re very active right now, can you feel them?”
“Uhm,” You let out with a breathless chuckle, quickly bringing one of your hands up to rub at the tears quickly cascading down your face, “I’m not really sure. Maybe? But I thought maybe it was just nerves or butterflies.”
The doctor laughed in response with a nod of her head. “Yes, that’s often what people think of it as at first; butterflies or even like you’ve just had a fizzy drink.”
You laughed in agreement, nerves still colouring your breathing as you kept your eyes glued to the monitor.
Sirius was astounded by the fact that the baby looked so…human. The first few ultrasounds looked like an arbitrary blob that someone who had never seen a human before had a human described to them and then drew it based off of that description. But this…
He could see a neck, and a nose, and hands with little fingers, and the fluttering of a heartbeat he was so worried the bunch of you wouldn’t see.
He felt a small cold spot on his chest, and when he looked down he realised he’d been crying.
“Bleeding can sometimes happen during pregnancy; sometimes it’s as simple as hormonal changes or changes to your cervix, but it is always a good idea to get it checked with your healthcare provider.”
“We had spoken with her obstetrician prior to bringing her in.” Remus explained. “He suggested we bring her in just to be on the safe side.”
The doctor nodded in agreement before turning her attention back to her patient. “I’m glad you came in today, Miss. L/N. Your obstetrician probably wanted you to get looked at swiftly seeing as this was your first pregnancy and he didn’t want you to wait the weekend to get looked at. But this is a healthy baby and you’re clearly doing a wonderful job.”
You quickly covered your face as you began to cry in earnest, and Sirius couldn’t help it anymore.
He perched himself on the edge of your bed and pulled you into his side as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re okay, doll. You’ve done great; you’re doing great.”
“I thought I was losing them.” You keened, small bump twitching in surprise when James made to wipe the gel off of your stomach.
“I know, my love.” He assured you, watching Remus approach the bed once the doctor closed the door behind her. “I know, that was really scary.”
“I’m sorry.” You sniffled.
“What are you sorry for, angel?” James asked, having since tossed the used paper towels as he took both of your hands in his. Remus clearly found that wholly unfair and quickly stole one of your hands to hold between both of his.
“I don’t know…for scaring you all, for worrying you. For maybe hurting the-”
“That’s quite enough.” Sirius chided as he pulled you further into his side, glaring at James who looked like he, too, sort of wanted to squish you into his side. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing at all.”
“Pregnancy is not easy, dove. Even if something had happened, it would have in no way been your fault. Okay?” Remus insisted, bending in an attempt to make eye contact with you when you refused to answer. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” You nearly wheezed, burrowing further into Sirius’ side; he let you. “Yes, I hear you.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Remus relented, lifting your hand that he had in his to press a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m so glad that you’re both okay.”
“How do you feel about a bath, angel?” James asked then, quickly agreeing when Remus warned ‘not too hot’. “Maybe we could order some takeaway too? What are you feeling? We could pick up anything you want on our way home. If it’s not on our way home, I’ll drop you off and go get it myself. Would you like that?”
“James, how would you feel about a bath and ordering takeaway?” Sirius teased, eliciting a chuckle - albeit a wet one - from you under his shoulder.
“Oh, I would love that.” James agreed readily, taking your hand that Remus relinquished in favour of packing your things back up and retrieving your shoes and jacket.
“What do you think, doll? Think you feel up to joining Jamie in a warm bath with some take away?”
You pursed your lips as though considering it before rolling your eyes in faux concession. “Fine, I think I can manage.”
“My perfect girl.” James cheered, pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, angel. I know that was a big ask.”
“Trying to get James to sit still for an extended period of time?” Remus asked as he held your jacket open for you, smoothing it over your shoulders as James and Sirius both put their own on too. “That really is a big ask.”
Sirius offered James a smile and a wink before taking his hand, thankful that James was more than willing to be the butt of the joke if it meant releasing some of the residual anxiety from your form by means of giggles.
Though Sirius knew that if James couldn’t bring himself to sit still for an extended period of time, especially after the scare you all had today, you had two more-than-willing partners who would quickly offer to take his place.
#ask elle#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#the marauders#marauders x reader#poly marauders x reader#poly marauders x you#marauders#pregnancy trope#pregnancy fic#pregnant!reader#muggle au#ellecdc fics
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You don't have to literally call me Hitler to prove my point—you did so simply by calling me a name and twisting my perspective to the point of absurdity. No, of course I don't expect you to build bridges with evil motherfuckers, my point is not everyone who disagrees agrees with you fits that description.
When I talked about building bridges, I was referring mainly to myself. It seemed like me and the previous poster (and you?) would actually agree on many important points. If we do not share the same philosophy, at the very least we're adjacent, possibly more than any other two groups. And yet you still treat me like the villain. It doesn't matter that I devour my career to fighting for equity and finding gainful employment for young queers, no. If I don't align with your beliefs 100% then you lump me in with murderous oppressors and *ahem* Ernst Rhom.
I'm saying you radical leftists need to chill the fuck out and learn to converse in a civil manner, especially with people who are (mostly) on your side. From what I can tell, you've been pushing everyone away who does not share your orthodoxy or tow the party line, and it makes it very difficult for people like me to stand up for you. Your movement will very soon find itself without any allies or friends and then where will you be? For all your self-righteousness you will have accomplished nothing and helped nobody.
it/its pronouns are not inherently dehumanizing, unless the user wants them to be. it/its pronouns aren't weird. it/its pronouns aren't too hard to use. people who only use it/its pronouns need to have this be respected no matter what your beliefs are. you don't get to single out people with "weird" pronouns and misgender us and use incorrect pronouns. accept someone who uses it/its as you support someone who uses they/them. there's nothing wrong with it/its pronouns. respect its users.
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