#they have gone fully off the rails
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lunarlover12 · 7 months ago
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Tracker after finding out Kristen can no longer cast spells due to her dead God: "What's gonna happen with you and Augefort?"
Kristen Applebees WITHOUT HESITATION: "I'm gonna be president, bitch."
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mariocki · 7 months ago
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Saw (2004)
"Congratulations. You are still alive. Most people are so ungrateful to be alive. But not you. Not anymore."
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on-the-clear-blue · 3 months ago
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Dead Man's Diner pt 2
Danny had to admit, Lunch Lady was an excellent teacher.
Sure they were blitzing though a cook book thst was more tape and hope the paper, but Danny was for once actually understanding and enjoying being taught.
Cracking an egg into a bowl, Danny held it close while whisking quickly, not fully incorporating the flour in his pancake batter before dumping a good sized dollop on the flat top, smiling from the brief sizzle that he heard.
There was a sudden cacophony sounds from the front of house (which was the dining area? He never knew that before) putting the flat top on low, Danny looked over to where Lunch Lady was floating only to find nothing.
Blinking a bit, Danny wiped his hands off OK his apron as he poked his head out, frowning at the diner car, "What was that..." his words were cut off by one of the blinds slats bending as if pried open, and as he squinted, Danny saw two figures watching from a distance ontop another rail car.
Vigilantes
Danny felt his heart flutter with excitement, while not as cool as maybe Martian Manhunter or StarFire (since y'know...fucking aliens, Space) the Gotham caped community were interesting, if only since Batman and his Flock were Sam's low key obsession, she had even gone out as Robin for multiple Halloweens, and don't even get him started on the fan theories about them all.
Smirking he tapped the bar, allowing thr blinds to snap closed, "Sam is so going to flip that I saw the Birds before her." Letting out a little giggled, Danny quickly swore as he smelt a bit of burning and rushed to flip his pancakes.
---
Tim was, in Dicks opinion, the most concerning member of the family, sure most days he gives of "miserable wet cat" energy but even then Dick had seen his little brother easily take down guys that even Bruce had trouble with.
That wasnt even touching on his um...mental quirks
The less he speaks of the time period between Bruce's and Kons deaths till their eventual return, the better.
Putting down the binoculars, Dick stole a glance over at Red Robin, who was frowning deeply at his wrist computer, scooting a little closer Dick leaned over to see what was happening, "Whatcha do~oing?"
So entranced by what he was reading Tim jumped a little, an elbow flying out to where Dicks face had been a second ago as he turned and glared.
"Don't...! Do that Wing! Ugh..." shaking his head as he let out a huff Tim took his eyes off the small monitor and looked up at the diner car, pointing at it as he spoke scornfuly.
"That place does not exist."
"Like, legally? I am sure Batburger doesn't either-"
"No." Tim said, cutting the older vigilante off, "It doesn't exist physically."
"Timmy..." Dick said as he ran through the protocols for when RedRobin got a little too many insane things in his head.
"Get that look off your face Wing, it really doesn't exist, like..." letting out a sigh, the teen tried to put his words right "Don't look straight at it but a bit to the side so it's to the side of your eye." Pointing to a middle distance a bit away from the diner cart, Dick sent a small frown at his brother but did as he was asked.
"Holy leaping lizards..." Tim, somehow, was right, since when Dick just looked about a few feet away from the diner, it started to waver turning...transparent? And a little blue? But when he looked at it closer it was just a normal, abet run down looking diner.
"Exactly, no need to bench me till Agent A stuffs me full of anti-psychotics!"
"That was one time Tim, and you were having a mental break down."
"I am not lying when I say we killed Santa Claus Dick!"
"Sure Tim...sure"
---
Danny drummed his fingers on the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee as he waited for something to happen.
He knew thst he was being watched, he had a vague idea who was doing the watching, but was starting to get a bit bored waiting for them to get closer.
Pausing mid sip, a grin spread across Danny's lips, "Hey cart? Can you do something that might draw those guys over here? Let's get some customers!"
Some how, Danny's grin only grew at the rumble of the cart, and he xould hav sworn he heard a sound that was a mix between a train horn and a chuckle.
---
Tim shot his brother a stinging glare, swatting at his arm as he blushed, he did every much indeed accidentally killed Santa Claus and took an impromptu trip to Apokolips to give DarkSeid coal.
His next rebuttal to Nightwing was cut off as the diner cart shuddered as if it was in an earthquake before it stilled, and the banner that was across it suddenly gained a new line.
[JUST NOW! VIGILANTES AND HEROS GET ONE FREE SIDE OF FRIES! COME ON IN BEFORE THE OFFER ENDS!]
Tim was silent for a moment, watching the cart to see if there was any more changes before turning to Dick, who had lost the joyful energy that he always seemed to have.
"RR, plans changed, we are going to investigate inside."
Tim gave a sharp nod, his bo staff elongating as he grappled down to the train tracks below, his boots crunching gravel underfoot as he slipped from shadow to shadow, getting closer to Big C's diner.
---
Danny was in the back, flipping through his cook book as he heard a bell ring, jolting up, Danny could see through the service window and see who came in.
He had never met a real hero before, not like the two that had just came in, feeling nervous, Danny fumbled with a small notebook as he came out from the kitchen, grinning at the two Birds.
"Heya! Thanks for coming to Big C's! Names Danny and I am kinda the only one in today, what can I get you both?"
His eyes flickered between the two vigilantes, noticing new things each time he looked at them, like how Red Robin's cape had buttons instead of being sown on, or how Nightwings suit wasn't slick but actually textured.
---
Dick looked at everything he could as he stood in the diners door, it looked like a typical 50s styled mom and pop kinda place, an old radio buzzed with songs of a bygone era while the seats were cracked pink leather vinyl.
He could hear someone moving in the back, resting a hand on his eskrima sticks, Dick stalked further in, it felt real enough...
He could feel Red Robin knock into his back as the person from the back came into view, it was a teen, and holy hell did he look like Bruce Wayne adoption bait, raven hair, blue eyes and a cheesy looking grin.
He couldn't be older than Damian, who had turned 16 a few months ago, the teen was just so...tiny.
Danny, that's the name given to them, and Dick can see it, he looked like a Danny.
Pausing to look to Tim, Dick smiled back at the teen, "Well...can we see a menu?"
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the-californicationist · 7 months ago
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Bone Deep
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AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex
Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long. 
You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all. 
It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible. 
John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house. 
You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three. 
“John?” You called out.
There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door. 
You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen. 
“John.”
“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around. 
“John!”
“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.
“Okay,” you nodded, resigned. 
It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog. 
And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.
You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home. 
Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care. 
You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall. 
“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag. 
“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”
He scoffed,
“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”
You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled, 
“You know it’s not the socks.”
The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud. 
So, you left. 
Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space. 
You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.
John: hey
You: hey
John: can i call
You: one sec
You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.
You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale. 
But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.  
“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort. 
Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,
“I’ve been a proper arse.”
You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,
“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it. 
“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”
You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,
“You are coming home, right?”
You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,
“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”
“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”
The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer. 
The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat. 
“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house. 
The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again. 
When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug. 
You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek. 
Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone, 
“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”
You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite. 
“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying. 
He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass. 
“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”
His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them. 
“I swear…” 
He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.
“I swear…” 
You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again. 
“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses. 
“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.
Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him. 
Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss. 
He groaned,
“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”
You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,
“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”
He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses, 
“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”
You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it, 
“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”
As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm. 
“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected. 
Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will. 
However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell. 
Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina. 
You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces. 
“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.
“Can we sit?”
“C’mere.”
John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst. 
He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again. 
He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,
“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”
“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. 
You saw the surprise dance through his expression. 
“You sure?”
You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream. 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.
“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd. 
Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him. 
He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements. 
Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.
You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave. 
“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful. 
“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun. 
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too-much-tma-stuff · 9 months ago
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Finally Getting Help (pt 3)
first | last | Masterpost | Next
What Tim and Bruce found was completely ridiculous. It really wasn’t hard to find the Doctors Fenton’s website but it was ridiculous! It was outdated and gaudy with animations of cartoony ghosts everywhere. If it hadn’t been for how clear Danny was about his parents' names Tim would have skipped right over it. But when he got past the terrible website design and started reading it his stomach just dropped lower and lower.
The writing was clean and scientific though it couldn’t disguise the malicious delight they took in tearing the creatures they called ‘ghosts’ apart. Whatever these ghosts really were Danny had been internalizing this attitude about Himself for years! They also bragged about their weapons and their government contract. So whether that was true or not Danny hadn’t been lying or delusional, it was his parents. And regardless of what these ghosts actually were it was obvious they were supernatural so RR sent a link to the website to Zatana.
(link)
RR: What do you think?
Tana: Lol is this a joke?
RR: I wish, I know it looks like one but no, this is deadly serious.
Tana: Hang on
Red Robin put down his phone to give Zatana the time to read over the site and looked more into Maddy and Jack Fenton while she did. He found their graduation certificates, and pictures of them in college with what must have been a much younger Vlad. So they were actually doctors of some sort, they had their doctorate, though that didn’t exactly make it any less likely they had gone fully off the rails now.
His phone dinged and he picked it up to see one short message from Zatana.
Tana: I’m coming to the cave.
Tim sighed and put his phone back down, spinning his chair to face B who was hunched over the computer typing furiously. “Zatana is on her way, I asked for her opinion of the Fenton’s research and she must think it’s big.” He said as he dug out a domino mask.
“Hm,” B sounded and went to get his cowl. “Report?”
“The Doctors Fenton are doctors, they got their doctorates though I don’t know in what yet. They’ve been friends with Vlad since university and they certainly at least think they’re studying ghosts. Their website has articles on behaviours and biology, and how to hunt and hurt ghosts. They brag about a government contract.” Tim summarized. “You?”
“The Ghost Investigation Ward does exist and they are a government agency but they only seem to be active in the town of Amity Park and they’re so inept! It wasn’t hard to hack them, they’re trying to sound mysterious and a little dangerous talking about protecting humanity from invasions from other worlds but I don’t think they’re actually that competent,” Batman said with a scowl.
“The only reason we didn’t know about this was because we weren’t looking! And it’s possible Danny is right and they were jamming calls from Amity to the JL, but I have a terrible feeling what actually happened if that the call came through and someone heard them talking about ghosts and rogue government agencies, assumed it was a prank and blocked them,” Bruce said massaging his temples.
“Ah,” Tim said, his heart dropping at how plausible that sounded. Could they have saved Danny before, if they had taken that call seriously.
“And Vlad is the mayor of his town, there are articles about Danny fighting him in public. It seems like everyone knew their relationship was antagonistic at best and No One defended him. The GIW also listed him in their special thanks for helping fund them. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been using them as a tool to threaten and control Danny.” Batman said with cold fury. Tim took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.
“We weren’t able to protect him, but we will avenge him. And we’ll keep him safe Now,” Tim reminded his father. Privately thinking that as soon as he could he was going to tell Jason about this so they could Really make sure Vlad never came near Danny again. An arrest just wasn’t strong enough for a man like that. He wasn’t going to tell Bruce that though, obviously.
The sound of the Zeta tube interrupted their moment as Zatana arrived, looking slightly more ruffled then she usually did. She must have really rushed here, which was a bit worrying.
“Zatana,” Batman greeted.
“Hello Batman, before we talk I need to check your wards.” She said already walking past them.
“Hm,” Batman sounded, making RR smile a little, how Batman made that sound mean so many different things always sort of amazed him.
“I need to check the ones on your home too. And I’d like to meet the boy you have under your care,” She said briskly.
“How did you know about the boy?” Batman asked gruffly.
“Lucky guess,” she said briskly, her hands glowed as she walked around the cave, making seemingly random gestures as if touching or pulling on invisible threads. None of the bats really understood magic so they left her to it. When she was done they let her up into the manner, she knew their identities already after all and she checked all the wards on the home very thoroughly, occasionally casting spells to reinforce them. They collected Dick and Damian trailing after them curiously as they went as well.
“Alright, can I meet the boy now?” She asked, turning towards Bruce who crossed his arms and puffed out his chest a bit.
“Not till you explain to us what’s going on,” He growled and Zatana looked over the curious stubborn faces surrounding her and sighed.
“Fine,” she allowed, resigned. She rubbed her temples as she looked around for a chair and sunk down into it. “So what the Fentons seem to be referring to as Ghosts are actually denizens of the Infinite Realms, the space in between every world and afterlife. Some of the beings there were once people who died but many aren’t. They’re also known to be very powerful and quite violent though thankfully not particularly interested in the living. The fact that the Government is apparently messing with something like this is very bad news.
“Constantine and I have been keeping half an eye on the situation in Amity Park but they had their own pair of Heroes, Phantom and Red Huntress, who seemed to have the situation well under control so we weren’t all that worried about it. We weren’t tracking the more human elements of the GIW and the Fentons,” She bit her lip and thought for a moment.
“When Tim sent me that website and I was made aware of those, that changed things. What’s worse is the photo the Fentons’ have of their family. Their son… we knew Phantom looked young but ghosts often stay at a younger age than they really are, with how powerful he was we assumed he was Old. But he looks exactly like the Fenton’s son. Did they not notice he was dead or…” She looked around at their faces, apparently getting her answer from their expressions.
“There have been rumours for a long time about a very rare and powerful sort of living dead, humans soaked in the pure energy of the infinite realms resulting in a still living ancient. It’s so rare that people usually think it’s a fairy tale but with the work Phantom’s parents do it makes a sick sort of sense. And what it means is that that boy you have stashed away is basically a baby God and we all have to be very careful.”
There was a heavy silence as they all processed what she was saying. “Are you… sure?” Tim asked, uncertainly.
“I won’t be till I meet him, but I’m as sure as I can be without that at the moment,” she said firmly.
Tim sighed and pulled out his phone. “Cas is with him, I’ll text her to see if she’s up to meeting you. If he’s that powerful we don’t want to push him right?” He asked as he typed out a text to Cas.
“Yes. Like I said he’s been acting as a hero in Amity, he seems like a good kid but I have no doubt in my mind if he’s pushed too far we could have a truly apocalyptic situation on our hands,” She said which made Tim swallow thickly.
His phone dinged and he checked it. “Danny is willing to meet you but he’s really tired so go easy on him and don’t stay long,” Tim relayed her message.
“Alright that’s fine, thank you. Show me the way please,” She requested.
Bruce took over, leaving the way. “We don’t want to overwhelm him, I think only I and Zatana should go in, with Cas still there since he seems to feel safe with her,” Bruce informed his children.
“Alright, just tell us everything soon!” Dick demanded and Bruce’s lips twitched up in just the suggestion of a smile as he nodded to them.
He took off his cowl, he wasn’t in his full uniform anyway and he didn’t want to scare Danny. Besides if he had been a hero even if he clocked Bruce he would understand.
“Hello Danny, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Zatana,” She introduced herself s she followed Bruce in. She would have offered her hand to shake but Danny was half hiding behind Cas sitting on the bed.
“It’s nice to meet you too. What’s with the outfit?” He asked curiously which made her laugh.
“I’m a hero, one of the less known ones. I’m part of Justice League Dark which is their supernatural division along with Constantine and Deadman and a few others. He’s a ghost, but I assure you the government hasn’t been giving him any trouble, probably because they knew they wouldn’t get away with it.”
“So I’m just lucky then,” Danny said with a bitter curl to his lips.
“As a hero, I want to ask, are you Phantom?” She asked rather bluntly.
Bruce shivered as the temperature in the room suddenly dropped a few degrees and Danny’s eyes started to swirl with green as he glared at Zatana who managed to barely react. Batman noticed how her back tensed a bit but it was barely there. “You know?” Danny demanded. “You knew about what was going on in Amity and you didn’t help?!”
“I’m very sorry Danny,” She said genuinely. “We knew something was going on, but we didn’t look closely enough. We thought that you were an older ghost just of someone who died young because of your strength, and it looked like things were under control. Normally our involvement wouldn’t have been appreciated, intruding on someone’s haunt, so we didn’t look any closer. I am so sorry we overlooked you but we’re going to make up for it now I promise.
“I’ve checked and reinforced the wards on the house so nothing should be able to come in uninvited, and I’m going to contact the rest of the JLD. We’re going to go to Amity, we’ll figure this out and deal with it I promise.”
The temperature in the room slowly went back up, Danny was still upset, but he didn’t seem like he was about to snap anymore. While Zatana had been talking Cas had started gently rubbing Danny’s back and that seemed to be helping too. After a moment Danny looked up again and nodded, accepting the help.
“The veil must be very thin there, to let so many ghosts through?” Zatana probed gently.
“It is, but more than that two years ago my parents succeeded in building a portal to what they call the Ghost Zone. This kinda green world of floating islands.
“A portal,” Zatana said flatly, blinking rapidly. “To the Infinite Realms?”
“Ah is that what it’s really called? Ya probably? That’s how everyone’s been getting through. How I got my powers too, the ghosts call me a halfa, but I’m not the only one. Vlad’s one too.”
Batman heard Zatana mutter “Two?” softly, baffled and alarmed but she nodded. Bruce filed that information away too, it seemed Vlad was even more of a threat then he’d first appeared to be.
“Alright, I’ll get as many of the JLD together as I can and we’ll head to Amity. We’ll shut down the portal and deal with this.” She said determinedly.
From the look on Danny’s face he didn’t really believe her, but he nodded again and leaned against Cas. “Good luck I suppose,” he muttered and sighed, rubbing his face.
“Just… tell me if you get in over your heads okay, I’m used to dealing with all this stuff.” God he sounded so tired, the poor kid.
“I will, but don’t worry about us, just take care of yourself okay? This is a good place to be, I promise you won’t have to be alone anymore.” Zatana assured him. She probably had more questions, but it was very obvious that Danny was getting tired.
“Bruce is good dad,” Cas chimed in, speaking up for the first time. It embarrassed Bruce a little but he smiled at them and nodded a little.
“Thank you,” Danny said, his shoulder slumped and his back curled. “Can I go to bed now?”
“Of course Chum,” Bruce agreed, starting to shoo Zatana out of the bedroom with Cas on their heels. When they closed the door behind them Bruce heard the lock click quietly closed behind them. He really hoped that Danny would feel safe enough to sleep well.
@zlinen  @sebas-nights   @littlefeather345  @isnt-that-grape     @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit  @shadowkatt99  @fantasticstoryteller @blackshuckatdusk @blacksea21090  @sithlordchimchnga @fanfictionforme2 @imalittlefangirl25 @bushbees @yotsubaayase @thomasdimensor @ultimatebluff
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messenger-of-babel · 1 month ago
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Coloured Red
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Summary: He likes you in his colour, just not that like that. (Jason Todd x reader)
Word Count: 2.1K
Notes: blood and injury. Hope everyone's having a good week so far! Not my favouriteeeeee Jason piece I have written but please enjoy anyways. xx
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It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
Never like this.
He had been working out of the manor for a few days, something he was already reluctant to do. However, you had sent him off to "work" with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him well for whatever convention Librarians had. Instead of your boyfriend being the gruff librarian sorting returns every night, he was in fact the red masked vigilante cooped up in the cave, pacing back and forth in front of the Bat computer while Tim tried to trace their latest suspect.
Dick had called him back for some extra firepower in the latest case, and if he hadn't owed him one Jason would be back with you in a heartbeat. "Get anything?" he grunts to Tim, who's fingers are typing strings of code into the keyboard.
"Not yet," he hums, the younger man's face twitching with annoyance as the firewall warning flashes across the screen again.
"Give it time, Jay. we don't want to let them know we're onto them." comes Dick, who’s leaning against a railing and still fully suited up from his earlier patrol. "I've checked all through The Cauldron and Southside, no trace of them there. Penguin must have closed up shop around Cobblepot Steel when he started working with his new friend. Going through great lengths to gatekeep his new buddy from us." he hums.
"Well I want to get this meet and greet over with," Jason grumbles, crossing his arms while he scuffs his boots impatiently.
"Bee in your bonnet, Red?" Dick calls and Jason scoffs.
"You put it there. You wanted me to help take 'em down while the Bat is out of town with Superscout, but you don't even know where they are. I've spent a full night just waiting for boy genius here to get a lock."
Dick puts his hands up in mock surrender. "We'll be done soon, promise. Then you can go home to your sweetheart. Hey, you can even say you came back early just to see them. I'm helping you get brownie points." he grins, nimbly dodging the hand Jason had swung out to slap the back of his head. "Where are they anyways? Their place?"
"Safehouse." Jason grunts back. "Staying at mine while I'm helping you lot. Old Gotham, near the GCPD. Besides, I told them to mark down I'd be back tonight on the calendar anyways."
Dick whistles. "Didn't think you had a place that close to the cops."
Jason just shrugs. "They're not after me, and if they were it would be somewhere they wouldn't look. Plus it's a nice distance from you all." he grumbles.
Dick pushes off the wall coming to lean over a monitor near Tim. "Well if our mystery person is teaming up with Penguin, and he isn't interested in the drug business, what is he here for?" he hums, eyes focused on the map of Gotham that Tim has pulled up. He taps the screen after a second, zooming in. "Here. Dixon Docks. We haven't checked here yet. Penguin used to smuggle through here, but it also became a bit of a meet up spot. He might have gone back to old ground."
"Yeah, but Penguin shifted his focus into drug running. Bruce put him under pretty heavy surveillance, managed to shut down a lot of his operations for a while. You really think he'd be that stupid to start trying to smuggle firearms again?" Tim piped up.
"Maybe. But Maybe its not firearms. This spot used to be a mob meeting spot. He never visited the operation personally unless-"
"Unless he wanted to order a hit." Jason cut off his older counterpart, voice becoming modulated as he fixed his mask to his face. "Seems there's a chance his new play pal is a hitman."
"For who though?" Tim asks.
"Maybe the hit isn't one Penguin is ordering. maybe the Penguin's selling info." Dick calls, testing his in earpiece before giving Jason a nod. "Me and Hood are going in to take a look. Track our location and keep the cameras on."
Tim nods while Jason and Dick head for the bikes, mounting each of their respective vehicles.
"Finally something to do." Jason groans, stretching his arms above his head before catching the cocky grin from Dick speeding past him. "Show-off." he murmurs, his own engine roaring to life as he follows suit.
They had cleared the dock pretty easily, Dick's hunch being correct. Between the two of them the middlemen and thugs were strewn across the floor of the warehouse, and Tim had already called the GCPD to come pick them up for the arrest. "No sign of our flightless friend." Jason grumbled, stepping over an unconscious thug.
"Nor our new mystery visitor." Dick concludes, tucking his escrima under his arm as he goes through the stack of papers at the makeshift desk tucked behind some shipping containers. Jason has known the eldest robin enough to know when he was worried, and the tight way he now held his body was a clear sign. "You find something?" he asks, boots thudding as the come to stand beside him.
"You think Oz was beginning to catch on?" Dick asks quietly, turning the page to show Jason the blurry CCTV photo of Bruce, a crude cowl and ears drawn over the image in sharpie.
"Shit," Jason breathed, taking some of the papers from Dick and beginning to flick through it. "This is all of us." He confirms, worry beginning to gnaw at his bones. There were photos of Tim leaving the city library and entering the Wayne Tower. Photos of Dick back in Bludhaven in a police uniform, photos of him at galas. Photos of Damian at school and meeting with Alfred. The more he flipped through them the more his heart dropped. There was a photo for nearly every 'apprentice' of Batman, surrounded by question marks.
"Whoever is joining the dots isn't fully convinced of it themselves." he murmurs, blood freezing as he sees a photo of himself there. A photo with you on his arm next to him. Dick comes to peer over at it, cursing under his breath.
"Hood, don't panic-" he tries to soothe, but Jason is already pushing past him to tear at more of the documents on the desk. He rifles through the papers, the sound of approaching sirens and Nightwing's urging to leave the scene deafened by the ringing in his ears. In his tightly clenched hands there was a leger, with a list of addresses. In the middle, was his address. The address he had given you, highlighted in yellow.
"We need to go." Dick urges, hurrying him to mount his bike. Jason jaw clenches, and he shoves the piece of paper into his brothers’ hands.
"Yeah. We do." he grits out, but he hopes Dick can't hear the sheer fear held behind his teeth. His bike speeds off, roaring through the side street they came on as he reroutes for Old Gotham. Dick looks down, eyes wandering over the red written date next to the highlighted address, tonight date. "Jesus," he breathes out, quickly following behind his brother before he does something reckless.
Jason doesn't think that he'd ever driven that fast since he'd been on the run from Bruce, throwing the bike into park so violently outside his apartment that the tires burnt as they squealed. Dick wasn't too far behind him, calling out for him to wait in between talking to Tim on the other end of his earpiece. His heart is thudding in his ears, hands feeling cold as he scales the stairs to the fourth floor, knocking on the door rapidly. He didn't care he was in his full suit. He could make some bullshit excuse if you were fine, claiming some noise disturbance or the wrong door.
But if he wasn't?
Then someone was going to fear the fact he was already suited up.
"I told you to wait, Hood-" Dick snaps at him, slightly out of breath from having to run behind him. Jason doesn't listen, shoulder slamming into the door when you don't come to answer.
"Don't you have the key?" Nightwing hisses to him.
"Left it in my civvies." he grunts, stumbling slightly as the door gives way. "I wasn't really expecting to…" he trails off, bile rising in his throat and blood draining from his face. Dick pushes in next to him, still scolding. "You can't just go in like this-" he cuts himself off, catching sight of what Jason was burning into his brain. "Oh no, Jay..." he whispers, but Jason is already moving to your side.
His hands come to your head, softly cradling it in his large palms. Two fingers come to press against your neck, his breathing evening out as he finds a weak pulse. "They're still kicking." He grunts out, other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. He closes his eyes trying to scrub the image of you lying there in the living room, sprawled on the carpet surrounded by the shards of the broken window and white rug drinking your blood.
Your eyes flicker weakly and you make a faint cry when he presses down on the wound by your ribs, a sound that tears him up inside. "Shhh," he tries to say softly, but the modulator makes it robotic, stripping the emotion from it. "I gotta put pressure on it. Did you see who did it?" he asks. He can faintly hear Dick calling for Robin on the end of the commlink, calling for paramedics to come to his address.
He hates how warm his hands feel, gloves heating up as if they were stealing the life force from out of you. Blood is flecked across your lips from the spray, faintly mumbling the words, "didn’t see them."
He nods along. "That’s okay, that’s okay." he murmurs, but he wasn't sure who he was telling that to.
"Red Hood…" you groan out, hand coming the grip his wrist as he pushes firmer on the bullet wound. Your fingers are bloody, smearing the crimson across his suit. "You gotta…you gotta find my boyfriend," you cough weakly. "They were here for him. He’s just…he's just a librarian…" your eyes tear up, throat swelling with the weight of your words. "He was just coming back tonight…oh god…you have to find him… what if they-" you sob, causing your face to scrunch up at the pain that ripples through your body. "I wanna…I wanna see him."
Jason's heart is tearing into pieces as Dick kneels to your other side, hands coming to your non-wounded side as he preps the area, Tim faintly heard giving instructions on how to stabilise you until the paramedics arrive. Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears. Despite the side glance he gets from Nightwing, he pulls one hand up to his face, feeling for the latch under his jaw to release his mask.
When he pulls it away his eyes are red, tears already built in the corners. His lips have a tremble that hasn't been felt since he was in the single digits on the streets, and his hairline is beaded with sweat from worry. He offers you a weak smile, unable to stop the shooting pain that wracks his mind watching the hazy confusion on your face.
"Jay?" you whisper, the word more mouth than sound. He nods reluctantly.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Oh god, it wasn’t supposed to go like this.
He dreamt of the day that he could tell you his identity, of his real profession. He imagined all the best scenarios of you accepting him, of letting him spin you around the kitchen when he picked you up by the waist like he did so often. Of telling you while you both read together on the couch, your legs pulled across his lap. He never imagined the bad scenarios. He pushed those to the back of his mind. But as you reached up with bloodstained fingers, dragging the sticky red across his cheek in that oh so familiar motion, he knew right then that this was the worst situation imaginable.
He lets his tears wash the red from your fingers, trying to blink them out of his eyes so he could focus on saving you.
"Hold on, sweetheart." he murmured weakly, desperately praying for the wailing of the siren to reach his ears.
He had always said how much he loved red, loved you in the colour. Loved you in his colour.
Now he was thinking he never wanted to see you bathed in this much red ever again.
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reincrimination · 1 month ago
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race against the clock
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criminal minds | aaron hotchner x reader
content warnings: canon-typical violence, guns, death (unsub), panic attack, kidnapping, mild injury.
collection: whumptober 2024, day 1: race against the clock/search party/panic attack.
“Drop the weapon!” Morgan yelled. Hotch looked at Morgan, and then to where Morgan was looking. The rest of the police force did the same, and suddenly, twenty guns were all drawn on him- the man who had you. He had a gun, too, but he wasn’t aiming it. He held it in his left hand, which Hotch- and you- had known was his dominant one, by the characteristics of the stab wounds that he had left on his victims. Stab wounds that he might’ve- Hotch’s breath hitches- left on you. “Where is she?” Hotch yells. Another agent had been talking, maybe Morgan, but he didn’t give a shit right now. “What have you done with her?”
Aaron Hotchner knows how to keep his cool. Probably better than anyone on the team. In fact, he was the one to remind everyone to do just that before they breached the doors on this unsub’s decrepit cabin.
The woods were dark and eerie, as they always are on these types of days. It was some hour past midnight, Hotch couldn’t recall- all the numbers had started to blur together. The only time he had in his head was twelve hours, twelve hours since you’d gone missing. Taken right out of the parking lot of the precinct.
At least there hadn’t been much question about who had taken you. Finding the unsub’s cabin had been easy once Garcia had been given a name. Hotch only hoped recovering you would be that easy, and that you’d be unharmed.
“FBI! Open the door!” a man fully decked out in black SWAT gear and significantly more firepower than Hotch yelled, pounding on the front door.
The slats of the porch creaked under their feet, the paint flaking off the railings and the door-frame. The light shining through the smudged windows was the only clue this place was even inhabited.
There wasn’t even a car in the driveway.
The battering ram took the rotting door clear off of its hinges. The SWAT team fans out inside, searching room after room. Hotch hears them yelling “clear” as they proceed through the house. He waited with baited breath. If it were up to him he’d have been inside with them, but they knew this guy had lots of firepower at his disposal, so it was SWAT’s job to clear the house. Which, they had. Finding no one inside. Not even you.
Hotch felt the small balloon of hope inside him pop; the wind had been knocked out of him without so much as a physical punch. The SWAT team filed back out of the house. There was no unsub, and there was no sign of you.
A loud bang pierced the quiet night air.
The entire assembly of police and FBI agents all whirled around, guns drawn without a second thought. No one knew where to point them, though. The dark forest pressed in on all four sides of the cabin, the dirt road driveway even consumed by darkness after a few hundred feet.
“Drop the weapon!” Morgan yelled. Hotch looked at Morgan, and then to where Morgan was looking. The rest of the police force did the same, and suddenly, twenty guns were all drawn on him- the man who had you. He was half-hidden by the shadows cast by the tall pine trees, the moonlight unable to illuminate anything this far down from the forest canopy.
He had a gun, too, but he wasn’t aiming it. He held it in his left hand, which Hotch- and you- had known was his dominant one, by the characteristics of the stab wounds that he had left on his victims.
Stab wounds that he might’ve- Hotch’s breath hitches- left on you.
“Where is she?” Hotch yells. Another agent had been talking, maybe Morgan, but he didn’t give a shit right then. “What have you done with her?”
The unsub smirked, his grubby little brows furrowing, beady eyes narrowing, as he stared at Hotch.
“Answer me!” Hotch screamed. His voice broke on the last word.
“Take it easy, man,” Morgan said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Let the others talk to him. Take a breath.”
Taking a breath seemed like an objectively good idea, but Hotch found, he could not. His chest felt tight, like a rope was being pulled taut around him. His vision had begun to swim, the only thing he was focused in on was that disgusting, abhorrent man who had- who had-.
“Hotch,” Morgan repeated. He holstered his gun and took Hotch’s from him. “Come here. Don’t let him see you like this. That’s what he wants.”
“I need…” Hotch gasped. His hands were tingling, his fingers cramping. He tried to make fists with his hands as he followed Morgan back and around the back of an SUV, hidden from the unsub’s line of sight, but his hands weren’t cooperating. “I need to get her back, Morgan.”
What was happening to him? He had never felt like this before. He wouldn’t even be able to fire a gun like this, not with his hands cramping. How was he supposed to do anything?
“Is- are they talking to him?” Hotch peeked around the side of the SUV. He saw Spencer, his hands out placatingly, trying to talk to the unsub. He trusted Spencer, he trusted all of his team, but he needed to be out there. What if the unsub said something that they all missed. That only Hotch could put together. What if he said that he had killed you? Stabbed you, like all the others, or worse? “I need to- Morgan, give me my gun.”
“Hotch, relax,” Morgan tapped his shoulders again, trying to draw his attention back. “Focus on me. Breathe, slowly. You’re hyperventilating. You’re panicking, man. You’re no help to her like this.”
“Morgan, she’s not just- fuck- she’s not just an agent, she’s- we’re-,” Hotch stammered.
“I know, Hotch. We all know. And we’re going to find her.”
Hotch felt his hands relaxing, his chest loosening, his composure returning, like clouds parting after a storm. Leaving a clear sky. He needed to focus on finding you, and he couldn’t do that if he was panicking. He held his breath and counted to seven and then exhaled and did it again, until his hands were steady and his vision was clear.
“I told you,” Hotch heard the unsub groan to Spencer, “I don’t want to talk to you. I want to talk to Hotch. To Aaron.”
Morgan handed him his gun back and they left the shelter of the SUV. The unsub was still talking with Spencer, but had clearly noticed Hotch’s absence. The unsub’s gaze had flicked to track Hotch as he strode to the front of the crescent of officers. He kept his gun at his side- enough officers had their guns trained on the unsub anyways- in an attempt to be non-threatening.
“I’m Aaron,” Hotch said. He stepped forward, closer to the unsub. Hotch scanned his clothes, hands, arms, boots, everything, for any trace of blood, or dirt, or any clue as to where you were hidden. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I think you know what I want to talk about,” the unsub huffed a laugh. “You were all she wanted to talk about.”
Wanted? In the past tense?
Hotch felt the panic rising again. He took a deep breath. He could do this, he could stay focused for you. He had to, if he ever wanted to see you- alive, or otherwise, again. He had to pretend this was no different than any other case, that you were just another victim. That was the only way for him to avoid panicking- something he had never known he needed to avoid doing, before. Before you. Before he cared about someone as much as he cared about you, before you were put in danger.
“What else did you talk about?” Hotch asked. He needed information, any small hint at where the man had hidden you.
“Plenty.” The unsub shifted his weight from foot to foot, his left hand flexed around the hilt of his handgun. “We talked about how I couldn’t wait to shoot you. How that would be more painful to her than any physical would I could inflict. She begged me not to. Have you ever heard her beg before?”
The unsub began to raise his left arm up, gun in hand, but before it passed his waistline, a hail of bullets rained down on him. His body hit the ground before Hotch could even blink.
“NO!” Hotch shouted. He holstered his own gun, and kicked the unsub’s gun away from his side. He sank to his knees, suit pants sinking into the damp mud and pine needles. Hotch knotted his fists in the man’s shirt, and shook him, hard. “Where is she?”
“Hotch,” Emily murmured, somehow kneeling beside him now.
“Hotch, he’s gone.”
“Tell me where she is, you bastard!” Hotch’s voice had begun to go raw from screaming. He shook him one more time. Then he noticed: the dark, round hole in the center of his forehead.
Hotch released his grip on the unsub’s body and stumbled to his feet.
His knees were wet from the mud, and maybe from the blood that had undoubtedly already pooled out around the body from the various gunshot wounds.
Now we have nothing, he thought, pushing past the crowd of officers. He glanced at the empty driveway. Not even a car.
Not even a car.
Hotch whipped around.
“Follow the tire tracks!” he ordered, breaking into a run. “He has to have used the car to move her. Wherever it is, she is.”
He pulled out his flashlight and shone it on the dirt driveway. The earth was wet and covered in pine needles, making it difficult to analyze what he found. Two divots on each side of the path denoted the place the tires must’ve usually rested when the car was parked. They extended down the path through the forest, down a few miles to the main road. There wasn’t much room between the trees for the car to have pulled off, but he must’ve found somewhere, because if he had taken you to the main road, the officers at the roadblocks there would have seen him.
Hotch broke into a run, shining his flashlight ahead of him, looking for the slightest disturbance in the forest floor. He heard footsteps and clamor behind him as the rest of the cops and his agents spread out into a search party. He knew they could get scent dogs out in a few hours, but your scent would be hard to track, if not impossible, especially if he was right and the unsub had moved you using a car. Searching on foot was Hotch’s only hope to find you soon.
He had said that they had talked about shooting him- how it would be more painful for you than anything he could possibly have done to her.
Implying that you had to have been alive when the unsub shot Hotch- or had tried to.
The relief and hope that flooded Hotch at that realization almost distracted him enough to miss what he had finally found- a tire track, veering off between two trees that the car had probably barely fit between. Hotch shone the beam of the flashlight on the trunks and noticed the bark had been scraped off, and chips of white paint were left in the gouges. You had to be somewhere close, if the unsub had walked on foot from where he had hidden you.
Hotch began yelling your name, and then, all the other officers started, too. They moved forward like in a grid search, looking behind every tree, kicking through the leaf cover for anything left behind. “I found the car!” Morgan yelled. Then, the words that Hotch had been waiting to hear for the last twelve- now more like thirteen- hours: “I got her! She’s alive!”
Hotch ran towards the sound. The officers had already clustered around a small wooden structure, a hunting blind. A few meters behind it was the unsub’s parked car. The area quickly became illuminated in bright white lights as all the cops present shone their flashlights on you.
Hotch watched as Morgan began to help you up. Your hands were zip-tied tightly behind your back; Hotch could see dried blood around your wrists where they had cut into your skin. A pair of zip ties hung off of your ankles- Morgan must have just cut them off. He used his pocket knife to slash the ones holding your wrists together, too. Your hair was disheveled and full of leaves and debris, like you had been dragged along the floor, and a huge gash and bump to your right temple, like you’d been pistol whipped, glowed in the bright light of the flashlights.
“Where is he?” you sobbed, clinging onto Morgan’s arms as he helped you out of the blind. “Is he dead?”
“He’s dead, sweetheart,” Morgan tried to soothe you and pull you in for a hug, but you pushed him away, more strongly than you should’ve been able to after being tied up for so long.
“No!” you wailed. “How could you let this happen?”
Confusion flashed on Morgan’s face, and through Hotch’s mind.
Then, he realized. The unsub had known that he would die when he faced the police, but he knew that his final act would be to psychologically torture you, leaving you to wonder if one of the gunshots you had heard had been him shooting Hotch, like he had promised you he’d do as his final act.
Morgan had misunderstood your question. He had just told you that Hotch was dead.
Hotch finally closed the distance between the two of you. He grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. A broken sob wrenched its way out of your throat, tear tracks already cutting through the layer of dirt and dried blood on your face.
“Aaron,” you croaked. “Oh, thank God.”
“I’m here,” Aaron murmured beside your ear, so softly no one else could hear. It was just you and him now, in your own world. The secrecy of your relationship be damned, he would deal with the consequences later. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
You broke down sobbing into his arms, all the fight flooding out of you as soon as you realized that Hotch was alive. The dehydration, the hunger, the fear, and the pain in your head all rushed back in. Hotch’s arms tightened around you, the only thing holding you up anymore. His face was smushed into your dirty hair, the blood on your wrists was staining his shirt and tie, but neither of you noticed, nor would you have cared if you had.
“I knew you- I knew you’d find me,” you gasped, fisting his shirt in your trembling fingers. You stared up at him, into his beautiful glossy brown eyes, committing every inch of his face to memory. You had thought you’d never see him again, never hear his voice again, never feel his touch again. “When I heard the shots, I thought- oh, my God- I thought you were-.”
“Shh,” Aaron soothed. He wrapped a hand around the back of your head, near the base of your skull, and guided your face into the crook of his neck. His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, a wet, raw sound. “I know.”
“I thought he…” you mumbled into his neck, the words dying on your parched lips, or before that, in your sore throat. “Aaron.”
“I’ve got you, honey,” he murmured back, cradling your head so softly in his big hands. “You’re safe now.”
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wyniepooh · 2 months ago
Text
Protect
Logan protects you, in the only way he knows how.
bodyguard!logan x reader. just assume that reader is some high profile public figure lol. mentions of smoking. use of the nickname ‘kid’.
you could no longer feel the expression on your face.
It was only when you passed by a window— an awfully tall glass panel with an elaborate gilded frame— did you notice that the pleasant smile that had donned your face for the entire evening was finally beginning to falter.
a flash and click of a camera went off behind you, and through the reflection of the window, you could see a reporter walking eagerly towards you. you quickly swiveled in the opposite direction, hands grasped onto the front of your long gown as your feet guided your body towards a dark and isolated corridor.
but, you weren’t scared or alarmed in the slightest at the empty and unexplored room you were entering. because you knew that wherever you went, he was right behind.
after endless fidgeting with the hatch on a pair of doors, you could only sigh in relief when it finally opened. you stepped out into the balcony, sighing as you felt the abundance of fresh air fall over you.
your silent lonesome didn’t last. before long— just like you had suspected— a quiet, but familiar pair of footsteps trailed out from behind.
“I’m fine, logan. I just needed some air,” you turned your head slightly to the side. “you don’t need to follow me everywhere.”
he aligned himself beside you, arms clasped together behind his back. “Actually, I do. according to the contract I signed with your father, you require 24-hour supervision-“
“Please, enough,” you cut off, head fully turned to face him as you felt a warm teardrop drip down your cheek. you could see the rapid rise of your own chest, the consistent motion getting faster and more panicked by the second. you gripped the metal railing of the balcony and closed your eyes, hoping the cold sting would distract from the embarrassment.
when you opened your eyes again, logan seemed to be standing closer than before. his previous— and usual— stern expression was long gone, replaced by one of genuine empathy.
His softened brows twitched. you watched as his hand slowly reached up towards your face, arm pausing for just a second before a pointer finger extended gently to your cheek. You looked away as the wetness spread across your flushed face, and when you heard the parting of his lips, you turned your head and swatted his wrist away.
you spun towards the sky, looking at no star in particular, but focused on the scattered beads in the nightfall regardless. All was completely silent and still for a minute, which provided just enough time for you to slow your breathing and dab away at the mascara you were sure had traveled down your face.
You had just made a decision in your head to leave and return to the spectacle when you heard the muted click of a lighter. you smelled the tobacco before you saw it, and when you did, nothing but a scoff could escape you.
“I- I don’t think you’re allowed to do that here.”
he shrugged, and simply took an experienced drag of the cigar in response. He leaned a little closer to you, supporting his weight on the balcony railing as he raised the lit object up to your face. “who’s here to stop me? Or you, for that matter?”
You laughed dryly, crossing your arms as you asked, “are you seriously offering me a cigar? I thought you were supposed to protect me.”
He bounced his arm in suggestion of the cuban again and muttered, “kid, this is me protecting you.”
your smile faded away as you took in his words, and after a long second, your hand came up to reach for the cigar. but before your fingers could hook around the shaft, Logan opened his mouth and moved his arm away.
“ah— slow down. i still have a job to do. It’s my obligation to at least teach you how to smoke it first, so you don’t puke all over the prime minister or something. Plus,” he bent his head in, lips angled towards your ear, “if you’re not holding it and you get caught, you can talk your way out of it.”
he retracted his head, raising his eyebrows as he took one last puff and switched the direction of the cigar to face you. “Don’t be shy, kid. Just put your mouth around it.”
You followed his instruction with skepticism, delicately wrapping your lips around the brown paper of the cigar with your eyes down. With a mouthful of tobacco smoke, you looked up from your downward gaze, and as your eyes connected with his hazel glare, logan’s proud smirk seemed to falter for just a second; the corners of his mouth dropped, and his lips parted for a minute too long before he spoke.
“Just… don’t inhale into your lungs like you would a cheap cigarette,” he whispers, “you’re meant to enjoy it.”
You exhaled, clearing your throat as you watched the smoke dissipate into the dark background of the sky. “enjoy what?”
You notice the hesitancy in his response, his arm pausing half-way to his face as his eyes flicker to the imprint of your lipstick on the stick. finally, he puts his mouth on top of the red stain, takes a puff, and breathes, “the taste.”
The moonlight reflected off of his slicked back hair, and it looked like a star or two were dancing around in his eye. It was only now did you see the prominence of his wrinkles and the grey in his beard that you had never noticed before.
you don’t know why you stayed silent. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t anything to talk about— your very recent breakdown provided obvious proof that you needed to talk. And if there was anyone you could and wanted to talk to, it had to be logan.
You broke the silence first. “So, why’d you take this job anyways?”
he chuckled. “Honestly, I’d like to say some sappy bullshit like ��i love helping others’ but,” he purses his lips, “I’m afraid you’d find the real reason quite selfish,” he responds.
You laugh. “So, for the money?”
“Something like that.”
You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know anyone else who’d know exactly what to do when I’m freaking out, even if it’s by giving me a cigar at an event where reporters are swarming everywhere.”
He smiles, a lopsided one that only further emphasizes his wrinkles hidden within his beard. “I’m glad you consider me as a friend.”
You remained quiet. After a windy moment, you stepped closer to where he was leaning against the metal railing. You grabbed his wrist which contained the still-lit cigar, and turned your back towards his chest to take a hit. You look back to him, blowing the smoke into his face.
“a friend, right.”
now it was his turn to be silent, eyes frantically scanning over your face before lowering down to the hand around his wrist. His gaze jumps back to your eyes, a fog of something indistinguishable knitted between his brows.
“you know, I don’t really taste anything special. Just smokey.” you turned, pressing your chest against his as a casual hand toyed with the edge of his shirt collar. There was no space between the two of you, and yet there was no resistance, from either side, to step back and separate. “What’s it supposed to taste like?”
He tilted his head. “a little earthy. nutty,” his unoccupied hand fell upon the small of your back. “sweet.”
you couldn’t tell if he had more to say, but if he did, his words were all swallowed up by your lips on his. The hand on your waist tightly squeezed, pulling you flush onto him until the two of you were on the edge of practically falling over the balcony. both of your hands curled tightly around his gelled hair, tugging harshly as you silently gasped against his mouth.
the desperate roughness of his teeth scraped against your lip, and your respective chests rose up and down in synch with one another before he pulled back, his free hand coming up to caress the side of your hair.
“I’m supposed to protect you, kid,” he panted.
your fingers lingered over his chin, nails scratching at his overgrown stubble. You pleaded, “Logan, please, i’ve never felt so safe.”
you felt a sudden rush of coldness as Logan turns his head away. “I lied, you know. I didn’t exactly take this job just for the money. Your dad pays well, of course, but, that’s not why I stayed.”
He turns back, the star-splattered sparkle still twinkling in his eye as he mumbles, “you’re the selfish reason, sweetheart. you always have been.”
you pulled his forehead to yours, arms crossed around his neck to bring his warmth even closer. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed with uncertainty.
“Logan,” was all you muttered, and it was all it took before a low growl escaped through his chest and he drew your face in firmly by your chin.
You heard the faint drop of the half-gone cigar on the ground, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You tasted the sweetness on his tongue, just fine.
-
a/n: logan was canonically a bodyguard and I feel like we writers need to take more advantage of that fact
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xveenusx · 10 months ago
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Wanted
Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader
Summary: in a world where someone had everything, she still got treated like she was nothing. all she wanted was to be wanted.
Authors note: I wanted this piece piece to be as real as possible. It's not simple, its messy. We've all gone back to that one person we know we shouldn't just because being alone seemed worse. Also she gets absolutely railed so that helps. So please be kind to her lmfao.
Rating: smut, 18+, mdni, ANGST
Song rec: making the bed by olivia rodrigo
Part 1: Guilty
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Bored. 
I was so incredibly bored. I leaned against the built in bar as I watched Topper and Kelce take body shots off some tourists they invited. The loud bass of the music did little to tune out the annoying voice of Amy Culpo, who stood next to me, and rattled on about my mother’s latest line. 
“I mean, it’s absolutely stunning.” I know it is. I was there when she designed it. “Any chance you have tickets to her next show?”
Ah, there it was. The brutal truth he reminded me of all those months ago. Every interaction was a strategic move to climbing the next prong on the social ladder. Everyone always wanted something. 
I used to fight that notion. I thought I was better than them because I actually cared about other people. My wealth did not define me nor how I treated other people, but despite every effort I made both before and after him, I realized none of it mattered. 
I couldn’t escape my wealth. It was permanently engraved into my body and no matter how hard I tried to scrub, it wouldn’t go away. I’ve now fully embraced that ugly truth and decided that I might as well use it to my advantage. I almost always had something that others wanted and I just had to figure out what they were willing to give. I didn’t need any more money, but there were things that were far more valuable. Favors, tickets to the hottest openings, plane rides. Since everyone already saw me as a spoiled little rich girl, I might as well play the part. 
‘Depends. Are those last season MIU MIU?” I asked, tossing a look at the shoes on her feet. 
“There from the season before-“ I pulled a face at her words. Before last season? I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything last season let alone the season before. 
“Oh honey, if those are two seasons old, then I highly doubt you have anything I want.” The shocked look on her face dulled the aching pain that seemed to permanently reside in my chest. 
“I can charter a plane-“
I raised my hand to silence her. “You don’t have your own?” 
What was she even doing here? 
This was a new little project of mine. I tossed away all those societal niceties that did little for me in the end. I still couldn’t get anyone to stay. This was much more fun. You’d be surprised by how much stuff you could get away with if you cut out all the bullshit.
Amy’s cheeks flushed red and maybe once I’d have felt bad or be disgusted by how I was treating her but I was numb. I realized nothing really mattered. Whether I was nice or rude, people all wanted the same things from me. At least this way, I could armor myself. 
“There’s my pretty girl.” Warm hands curled around my waist, tugging me against a hard body. 
I rolled my eyes. I wasn't his anything, Rafe knew that but he’s always had a flare for the dramatics. Tom Ford’s Noir de Noir filled my nose as I swatted at his hands, hands that I’ve grown quite familiar with. 
“You left me.” I shot him a bratty look, one he met head on with a smile. Amy still stood there awkwardly, clearing her throat in an obvious attempt to gain my attention. 
I turned around in Rafe’s arms, debating my next move. Almost immediately his chin came to rest on the top of my head while his arms curled around my front.
My eyes shot one last distasteful look at her outfit, before tossing out my arm in the opposite direction. “Shoo.”
She huffed before stomping away but not before shooting me one final glare. A look that would have made me cry before, but now it simply dinged off the impenetrable armor I’ve suited myself with. 
“I was hoping it’d build character, but clearly that didn’t work.” I could hear the smile in his words as he pressed a kiss on the top of my head. 
“The entire conversation was dull. She didn’t even have a jet, plus her shoes were two seasons ago.” I shuddered in disgust. Could never be me.
Rafe clutched his chest in mock disgust,”Not two seasons.” 
I let out a huff, my chest going warm at the teasing glint in his eye.
There was no spark. There were no butterflies. Just familiarity and warmth. It was safe. We both knew what this was and expected nothing more. For now, we were just having fun. Despite the fact that I spent most nights at his place and rarely found myself without him.
I’ve found somewhat of a friend in Rafe. Someone to share the burden of being from a family like ours. He understood me. He enjoyed shiny things just as I did. 
We spent a lot of our time going to the mainland because the idea of running into him still sent me to my knees. This was a small island. One that he was spending all his time running around with her instead of me. Rafe never said a word about it, never mentioned his sister or her pogue friends. And for that, maybe I do love him a little.
“You make fun of me now, but you’d still be wearing polo shirts and plaid shorts if it weren’t for me.” My hands smooth down the front of his linen light blue shirt, the first several buttons open paired with some black Gucci slacks and a black belt from Dolce & Gabbana. He no longer looked like a frat douche but a member of upper class society. 
The same can’t be said about his friends.
“C’mon. Top and Kelce want us over there.” Rafe grasped my hand and tugged me in the direction of drunken yells. I pursed my lips but trudged behind him. The idea of being thrown up on was less than appealing, but being by myself was even less appealing.
“Hey guys.” Rafe nodded at them, taking a seat on the adjacent couch, a table with all sorts of drugs littered on it in between them. 
The pair of them were obliterated, both their pupils blown wide and their speech slurred. That didn’t stop them from tossing me a sloppy grin and shouting a greeting. 
The spot next to Rafe was vacant but on the other end was a couple gnawing each other's faces off that had me scrunching my nose up in disgust. He surely didn’t expect me to sit next to that?
He didn’t even bat an eye, instead Rafe patted his lap, tugging at my hand to sit down. “Wanna drink, baby?” 
I nodded, deciding to once again indulge. It was better than feeling that stabbing pain that burned in my chest. It was a horrible solution but one that Rafe always supported, in fact he often took part in self-destructing with me. We were done with trying to be perfect for parents who couldn’t give less of a fuck. 
A red solo cup with a familiar yellow concoction was waved in front of me. The pungent scent of tequila burned my nose and I shot him a secret smile. Rafe’s blue eyes narrowed in on me, glued on my smile before he shook his head in amusement. 
“That’s the kinda night we’re going for?” He asked, his hand slowly gripping my thigh. 
“Unless you don’t want to?” I sighed dramatically, pushing his dark blonde strands back from his face, something I knew he loved. 
“If I ever say no to that question, feel free to shoot me.” 
A giggle escaped my lips as I tapped my cup against his before bringing it to my lips, tilting my head back and zeroing it out. 
The tequila left a burning trail down my stomach that I welcomed. It meant I was one step closer to not feeling anything at all. 
“Another?” Rafe’s eyes pointed at my now empty cup and I nodded. 
Being responsible was so overrated. 
Lifting his hand up, almost immediately two younger boys, about 16, appear. Rafe pointed at me, muttering something before the pair nodded and took off.
I raised my eyebrow at him, confused. 
He just shrugged, leaning forward to touch the golden pendant that hung from my neck. “I promised them tickets to the Charleston basketball game if they did whatever I said.”
“Why?” 
“I was bored,” He hummed in response,”This is new, it’s pretty..” 
I smiled back at him, the very picture of nonchalance, before replying,”Thank you. You bought it for me.” 
His ocean eyes rested on me, the infatuation clear as day that had my stomach clenching. “Course I did. I have great taste.” 
Rafe gave me his card about two months ago, not that I needed it, but he enjoyed taking care of me and I didnt mind. Plus, whenever he made me mad, I made sure to run the bill up, hoping for some type of reaction but it only left him amused. 
Nerves gnawed at my stomach at the intense eye contact. Maybe the lines have blurred slightly. Clearing my throat to try and break the tension, I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Want to see what else you bought me?”
“Enlighten me.” 
I flashed him my freshly manicured nails, “What do you think?” 
Rafe caught my hand, a half smile painted on his face, and kissed it. “Is that passion pink?” 
“It’s actually bubblegum blush.” 
“Beautiful, baby. I love it.” His words burned into my chest. 
It was hard to describe. His approval had butterflies thrumming in my stomach. Maybe it was because we were stuck in similar situations, but his approval suddenly meant something to me. Being with him meant I wasn’t alone. 
“You know we’re right here, right?” Topper's voice cut through the tension and I let out a laugh, relieved to look away. 
“Fuck off.” Rafe laughed, regaining his composure as well. 
Topper leaned forward holding out a black AMEX for me to take. My eyes paused on the card before shooting him a flat look. 
“Are you kidding?” 
Topper gave me a blank look, not a thought behind those eyes. 
I rolled my eyes and stuck my nose up in mock outrage. “Rafe does it for me.” 
The annoyed look on Topper’s face sent a thrill through my body. He was the easiest to rile up and Rafe knew it as he hid his chuckle with a quick cough. 
The hand on my bare thigh slowly drew circles, the action almost unconscious, which had my brain blanking. It was a relief to not think. To not remember. To not feel. 
“Are your hands broken?” 
“No. I’m too pretty.” I shrugged, batting my lashes at him.
Topper openly scowled at me, his eyes dropping to where Rafe’s hands held me tightly. “What happened to the nice little girl who cried about everything?”
“Lay off.” Rafe snipped, leaning forward and snatching the AMEX out of his hand. His movements were quick and precise, with ease that only came with experience. 
He separated the coke into three lines, one for me and two for him, just like always. 
Bending over, I snorted the line quickly. Turning to hand Rafe the hundred dollar bill, his fingers dust off any remaining powder off my nose, before he bent over and did the same.
I leaned back into Rafe, the mixture of the tequila and the sting of the coke had me feeling sublime. It was a perfect balance. The alcohol got me warm and buzzed while the coke kept me awake and alert, an upper and a downer, a perfect description for every emotion in my body. 
“I grew up.” 
Topper hummed. “You certainly did.”
For the next hour, my mind never drifted to him. I enjoyed having thoughts that were my own, that didn’t revolve around him. Instead, my thoughts focused on the man below me. Rafe was always touching me. Even more so than usual, his hand never left my body once. If I let go of his hand to reach for my drink, he’s just moved it to my thigh. It was almost possessive which was odd, we didn’t do possessive. 
Every couple moments, he’d pause in the middle of a conversation to press small kisses anywhere his lips could reach. It seemed performative, but I just couldn’t prove it.
“You’re thinking too hard.” His hot breath hot against the shell of my ear. 
I said nothing for a moment before licking my lips and muttering,”Are you okay? You seem more clingy than usual?” 
He just nodded, pulling me to his hard chest, his eyes darting to the side. “I just like having you with me.”
The sentiment was sweet and my heart tugged at his words. But, I couldn’t let go of the feeling that I was missing something. “I like having you with me too.” I allowed myself to give him a sliver of vulnerability, something I’ve avoided like plague, because it was true. He made living just a bit easier.
My head began to spin as I felt the lines of our odd friendship begin to blur. I knew neither of us would admit the sudden shift but it was there. I could tell with each lingering gaze and those secret touches. Maybe there was something here. I just had to give in.
“I’m glad you came to your senses,” He responded, but once again his eyes are not on mine but darting around me. 
“What does that have to do with anything?” My voice comes out hushed, hoping it would get him to lower his voice. 
My smile from his previous confession dimmed. Nerves slowly began to surface as I tried to read between the lines.
“You do belong with me, at least that's what you scream every night, isn’t that right baby?” He was boasting, loud enough to have his boys give him lame-ass high fives. 
The small burst of happiness curdled like old milk in my stomach. I wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but I was a private person. Rafe knew this and he was still flaunting our private moments in a way that made me feel dirty. 
“Stop talking about me like that.” I said, “What’s gotten into you?” 
I felt Rafe go rigid under me. Frowning, I tilted my head back to make sure he was alright but his eyes were glued ahead. 
“Rafe, I’m here for my stuff. Where did you say you put it again?” 
My head turned and my stomach did a backflip. Sarah stood at the entrance of the room, looking immensely uncomfortable. 
John B stood behind her, his big brown puppy-like eyes widened at the sight of me on Rafe’s lap. Or maybe it was because of  the coke laid out in front of me? 
But wherever he was, JJ wasn’t far behind. John B whispered something in Sarah’s ear, her eyes jumped to me for a split second before returning to his. She nodded and John B made a beeline for the other room. 
I let out a choked laugh. I’m sure he was going to report back to his little lap dog. What were they even doing here in the first place? It’s not like Rafe knew-
My brain clicked into place. The constant need to touch me and the over the top PDA was because he was here. Rafe knew he was here and wanted to rub it in his face. 
Rafe’s words were never for me. They were for him.
None of this was real. Not the endearing names, not the proclamations of affection. An ice bucket of realization poured over me and I felt like a fool. A fool for thinking that somebody else could want me, could maybe even love me.
Fuck this. Fuck both of them. 
“You knew.” I accused, shoving his hands off of my body. 
Rafe said nothing, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away. I wasn’t safe with him either. Embarrassment oozed into me, the feeling painstakingly familiar. We agreed to never make each other feel this way since our parents did it enough, but he did it to me. 
Don’t think. Don’t feel. 
Snatching the cup out of his hand, I forced it down, gulp by gulp, wincing at the burn. Straight tequila. “Babe-“
“Shut up.” I hissed, moving off his lap and shoving Topper to move over. Everyone always wanted something from me. 
They never just wanted me.
Maybe I was defective. I had to be. 
JJ didn’t love me when I was me. When I cared about other people and sacrificed pieces of my happiness for them.
Rafe didn’t love me now. When I was a spoiled brat who treated everyone like a transaction. 
It didn’t matter if I was nice or a total raging bitch. Either way, I couldn't get anyone to love me.
I was just the stepping stone they used before they found the person they really wanted to be with. I was just there to make them feel good about themselves. For them to take and take just to toss me aside when they were done. Leaving me a shell of a person with no one, not even myself.
I guess, I was impossible to love.
“Line it up, Topper.”
“Can I at least get a please?”
“Be lucky that I’m even talking to you.”
Topper scoffed but did what I asked, lining up two lines of chalky white powder. “There you go, princess:” 
A rolled hundred dollar bill was held out in front of me. Plucking it out of his fingers. I bent over the table. Don’t think. Don’t feel. 
Dragging the cylinder bill down the crystal snow powder I’ve grown to love, I inhaled deeply. The chemicals flowing through the nose. I could practically feel the coke dissolving into my bloodstream, my body vibrating in response. 
Dropping the bill on the table, I tilt my head back, begging my brain to shut off. I closed my eyes and chose to focus on the beat of the music that had my heart thrumming in my chest.
Then it happened.
All the air in the room was sucked up. The hair behind my neck stood up and my body suddenly awakened in a way it hadn’t in months. 
My body recognized him before my brain did. The moment I opened my eyes, his eyes clashed with mine.
JJ.
It was like seeing him for the first time, a memory I thought I would never get the chance to feel again. 
Heavy set blonde brows framed his bright blue eyes beautifully, the strong cut jaw that was currently clenched, and his lips soft and pouty, tightly pressed in a flat line. This face, his beautiful face, wouldn’t be complete without some mark. A bruise, a soft purple and yellow hue, decorated his cheek bone. His bottom lip busted. 
He was so beautiful. 
My body reacted before my brain could follow. I stood up quickly, too quickly that the blood rushed to my head and the room seemed to spin. 
God, he was beautiful. And I fucking hated him for it. He was supposed to be like me, a complete and total mess, but instead, he looked the same, even better actually. 
That thought alone had me ready to jump off the balcony.
My movements were clumsy and I drunkenly stumbled while standing still, his eyes clocking that in seconds. 
Despite the loud music, I noticed the silence coming from the couch. 
My eyes jumped to Rafe. All the laughter around us died off and everyone was exchanging nervous looks. It didn’t take a genius to read the room and the situation I’ve somehow managed to put myself in. 
Blue eyes flickered between the two of us. It cracked my chest open wide and opened the floodgates I’ve been trying so hard to keep closed. 
The crushing inescapable weight of shame hit me first. I was plastered, obviously so, and high as a kite. The evidence of what I’d been doing displayed out in front of me like a flashing sign. And I was fucking the one guy he hated. 
It was unreasonable, I know. He left me and even pushed me in the direction of the one guy he hated and yet, I was the one feeling bad. He hasn’t even opened his mouth yet and it’s been turned onto me. But love never makes sense. It made the most sane people lose every coherent thought, I was the prime example.
“You should probably go, bro.” Rafe said, his tone was anything but. 
He moved from his spot on the couch and stopped beside me. Rafe shoved a hand in one pocket while the other reached for mine, but I folded my arms across my chest. Mostly because I was mad at him, but a part of me didn’t want JJ seeing that. 
JJ didn’t spare him a second glance.
He had on a dark blue short sleeve button down shirt with black cargos and chunky black boots on his feet. A backwards red hat settled nicely on the blonde mass of wavy hair and his shark necklace hanging against the exposed part of his chest. 
It was so JJ. All of it, right down to the colorful bracelets that littered his wrists. 
A hand grasped my chin and tilted up. I held my breath. His fingers slid along my jaw and he rubbed his thumb over the skin. His eyes felt like lasers, honing in on every detail of my face. 
I swallowed audibly. JJ leaned in closer, bringing his height down to mine. His thumb brushed a soft stroke below my nose while his lips brushed against my ear. 
“You had a little something on your nose.” 
JJ let go of my face, his expression hard. Then he brushed past me, leaving a gaping wound in his wake. 
Tears burned behind my closed eyes. He didn’t need to say it because I already knew what he was thinking. Sure, JJ smoked some weed but he never touched any of the hard stuff, not wanting to pick up the same habits as his dad. Hard drugs were a hard limit for him and he found me snorting several lines of it. 
I went and became the very thing he hated, just like he wanted. It didn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would. Instead, I felt like I lost another piece of myself. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said to Rafe, finally gathering the courage to open my eyes. 
He shuffled beside me. “Him being here wasn’t going to change anything.”
We both knew that was a lie.
“It’s him, Rafe. It changes everything for me.” 
Rafe scoffed and shook his head. “You’re really going to try and go back to that?”
“I’m not saying that-” I spluttered out, outraged as his voice continued to carry across the room. 
“He didn’t want you.” 
People around us began to whisper, their heads huddled together with their phones out. Wet hot tears threatened to fall as the control I took months to master began to unravel. 
“Yeah, well you don’t either.” 
“What the hell are you talking about? Before he got here, everything was perfect.”
“I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t notice what you were doing? That wasn’t for us, that was for him.”
“I didn't mean for you to think I was using you-“
I gripped his chin, and pulled his face down to my height, my eyes brimming with angry tears. “You don’t use me. I use you.” I shoved his face back, needing to collect my composure. 
Everyone’s eyes were on us and I was desperate to save face. It was the only thing I had left. 
“Get the fucking picture?”
“Crystal clear.” He responded through gritted teeth, his eyes hard. 
“If you want a whore, go buy one.” 
Rafe cleared his throat, his face iced over. “I thought that’s what I was already doing.”
I stood there for a moment, not understanding what I did to deserve to be treated like this by not one man but two. I felt like an idiot. Like the stupidest fucking person on this god forsaken planet. 
Two hours ago, I thought that maybe Rafe had feelings for me and played with the idea of exploring that with him. And now, I was a gold digging whore. 
I felt another piece of my heart break off, mourning the loss of the only friendship I really had.
Pressing my hair down with my hands, I look down to fix my dress, swallowing as I went, hoping to pull myself together and buy some time. 
“I’m glad to hear how little you think of me.” I sent him a sad smile,” I guess I’m keeping up with everyone’s expectations.” 
I stepped around him, heading to the direction of the bar, the adrenaline from all the excitement having effectively killed my buzz. 
Staring at the bottles of liquor on the counter had me frowning, all being some bottom shelf brand I’ve never heard of. I moved around the bar to the cabinets behind it, looking for the good tequila. It was the least Rafe could do seeing as though he just blew up whatever the fuck we were doing. 
Spotting the only tequila I drank, I grabbed the entire handle. Twisting the top off, I tossed it aside carelessly before taking a healthy swig. Then another. And another. 
I stumbled into another room, shoving people out of my way. I ignored the angry shouts because I was way past the point of caring. I just-I just wanted to see him.
As if someone heard my thoughts, I spotted JJ leaning against a wall with a lit joint dangled between his fingers and a beer in the other. 
He had so much charisma, it demanded the attention of the room. People gravitated towards him all the time but he refused to see himself that way. 
Even now, he stood surrounded by several people, including a girl who was too close for my liking, and they were hanging onto every word. All of their bodies angled towards him, nodding along. The people around them curiously moving in to hear more of the story that had so many of them laughing. 
It was almost ironic. It was the point I was trying to prove all those months ago. Kooks vs. Pouges was bullshit. Because, right now JJ is telling a story to a bunch of Kooks who were eating it right up. Neither parties cared about their status, they just wanted to socialize and have fun. 
Why couldn’t he see that? 
The organ in my chest began to flutter, the butterflies erupting in my stomach at his nearness. Panic began to set in. I thought I’d pushed it all down. 
All it took was seeing him. Just once. For the last couple months of progress to be thrown out the window. I made sure to not feel anything anymore, because the alternative destroyed me. And yet, there he stood, looking like every dream I’ve ever had, and completely disarming my very being with one look. 
I never wanted to feel that way again. My heart was open and my soul was bared, but I was naive. I thought love was supposed to be empowering. But really, it was poison. It slowly entered your bloodstream, coating every vein before slowly taking over every organ. It leaked into your brain and made you lose all common sense. The poison tricked you into thinking that certain treatment was okay because at least they were here. At least, they still wanted to be with you because they love you, right? 
But eventually, like all things lacking an antidote, it began to cut off your oxygen. It curled around your lungs and squeezed until you gasped for breath with tears staining your face. It didn’t matter how much you screamed and shouted, nothing came out. The last organ it takes over is your heart. That silly little organ who was so trusting begins to pump faster, desperately trying to get that oxygen to your brain, because maybe then you’ll finally be able to think clearly. But in the end, it slows down. Each pump is slower than the last until finally it comes to a stop. The heart broke. 
It’s the closest thing to dying I’ve ever experienced.
It was like drowning on dry land.
His words did not leave me dented, but destroyed. 
I lost my sense of myself. I lost my identity. I put on a performance every time I left my house, wanting to see just how far I could get away with treating people the same way they treat me. 
At first it didn’t feel good, but now I didn’t feel anything at all. Or so I thought until I saw him again. And I just want to see that he was doing okay and maybe, if I can admit it, to see if he still loved me, however little that may be.
I watched from my spot on the other side of the room as the crowd began to disperse, leaving JJ with some blonde. I vaguely recognized her from a shoot for one of my mom’s brands. I believe her parents worked in the fashion industry as well. Which would have been fine, had she not said something that had him give her one of those rare smiles, the ones he used to give me in private. 
Nausea roiled in my stomach, maybe it was all the tequila or maybe it was seeing him smile at someone else when all I wanted was for him to smile at me. 
She leaned into him, a coy smile played her lips, running her fingers down the shirt I bought him, which basically made it mine. And I hated when people touched my things.
The mix of tequila and coke emboldened me. I found my feet moving in their direction before I could stop myself. 
“I wouldn't waste your time.” I could not get myself to stop talking.
“Why’s that?” The blonde’s eyes narrowed, her cheaply manicured hand resting on JJ’s bicep.
“JJ doesn’t go for kooks or so I’ve been told.” 
“Maybe he just didn’t go for you.” Oh, how cute. 
“Oh honey,” I sighed dramatically and took one step towards her, tilting my head to the side, dragging my eyes up her body, in obvious distaste. “Are you new here?”
“Well, yeah but-“ She tried to explain. 
Clearly, she needed a run through on how the social ladder worked here. I was at the top and everyone else was at the bottom. 
“Your mom works for some brand from Paris right?” I watched as her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. 
“She does. We moved here because she’s doing a collab with-“
“With my mom.” 
“So I suggest you take your hand off of him,” I smiled on cue, my tone dipped in sugar before batting my eyelashes at her innocently,” Unless you want her blacklisted?” 
I could see her debating what to do. She didn’t know if I was bluffing but she'd learn rather quickly just how far I was willing to go. 
“Hmm, cute shoes.” I hummed, “Chanel?” 
She nodded, apprehension on her face. 
“Won’t be able to buy those anymore if your mom doesn’t have a job.” 
Her hand fell and satisfaction settled into my like molten lava. “You can go now.” 
The blonde pursed her lips and stalked off, leaving me alone with JJ. “Trying a new type”
“And what type would that be?”
“Desperate.”
JJ tipped his mouth, saluting me before taking a sip of his drink. His eyes already glazed over from the joint in his hand. 
“A thank you would be nice?” I muttered, taking another pull from my tequila. I couldn’t talk to him sober or I’d lose my nerve.
“A thank you?” He appeared almost amused, adjusting his red hat. 
“Yeah, I just saved you.”
“I didn't realize I needed saving.” 
“Self-preservation was never really your strong suit was it?” 
JJ laughed, his eyes straying to the bottle cradled in my arms. “I could say the same thing, Princess.” 
Fuck him for calling me that. So what, I’ve learned to indulge just a little. It made everything in my life a little more manageable. 
“It’s called having fun, JJ.” Pouting as he snatched the bottle from arms just as I went to take another shot. “Since when did you become the responsible one?”
JJ leveled me with an unamused stare. 
I huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Tough crowd.”
JJ snorted, pushing the leaves of a nearby plant back before dumping the remaining tequila. My mouth dropped open as he wasted every last drop of my liquid courage. 
How the hell was I going to talk to him now? 
I pursed my lips, “That was mean.”
“I’m doing what your boyfriend should have done an hour ago.” His gaze fixed on my face, the intense stare causing my cheeks to turn red. God, would he stop staring at me?
“He doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“Then he shouldn’t have left you alone.” His tone laced with annoyance, “You have all these fuckers staring at you and you’re wasted.”
I tilted my head back to stare up at him, the annoyance I knew came from a place of panic. That was just how JJ was wired. 
“So you’re in love with me?” Someone come arrest me, because I cannot keep my mouth closed.
JJ shook his head clearly fighting back a smile. “You’re so crazy.” 
“What else could that mean?” I asked truthfully and I knew I had a love struck smile on my face. One that I’ve only given to one man in my life and he stood in front of me.
I just wanted to be near him. I wanted to hear his laugh and see him smile.
His face softened at my words. “Are you okay? Does he take care of you?”
“Of course, I’m okay. Why do you ask?”
“Only one of us is fucking loaded.” 
I rolled my eyes and plucked the joint from his fingers. “Correct me if I’m wrong, and we both know I rarely am, are you not high too?” 
“Not from cocaine.”
“Already back to judging so soon?” I mused, taking a hit off the joint, the familiar stinging sensation wrapped around my lungs and squeezed. “Careful, I might think you care.”
Kill me now. Thank god, he took away the tequila.
“Who said I ever stopped?” My heart lurched in my throat.
I blew the smoke out slowly, my fogged up brain rushing to keep up with his words. 
Someone stumbled in front of me, slamming into my shoulder sending me flying forward into JJ’s arms. Something cold and wet splattered onto me, the bitter liquid dripping down my legs.
“Are you blind?” I shouted, shoving another drunk party goer off me. Looked like a tourist. 
She held her hands up in apology.
“I’m so sorry. Here, let me help.” To my absolute horror, this fucking tourist used a napkin and went to scrub the stain. Are these people animals? This was custom versace.
“Stop!” My cheeks flushed, from the weed or from my constant streak of bad luck. “Clearly, you’ve never owned anything worth keeping but this is Versace, you dick.”
I needed to go home before I burned this entire house down. 
“Is that how you talk to people now?”
I let out a loud groan. “Oh fuck off, JJ.”
I shoved him away from me, before grabbing the skirt of my dress and heading into the nearest bathroom, which just so happened to be Rafe’s. 
In reality, I just needed to get away from him. I needed my hands to be busy so that I couldn't grab his face and kiss him. Because I really wanted to do that. 
The sound of footsteps have my eyes widening in panic as I take in my ruined dress. All because of that blonde asshole next to me, if he hadn’t showed up, I’d still have my tequila and my sanity.
“I wanted to talk.”
I made a noise at the back of my throat. That didn’t sound like JJ at all.
“Fine, whatever. Close the door.” I didn’t need a million other people to see me lose my shit. I was already at my quota for the day. 
Jj stared at me with a confused look. “Close the door.” I nearly shout as the footsteps get closer but he moves just as quickly and slammed it shut, putting the lock in place.
“I just got this piece too.” I grumbled, huffing at the stained skirt. It was the Medusa 95’ Cut Out Mini dress in a stunning pastel pink. And now ruined with a beer stain from that horrible girl outside. 
“I remember this one.” JJ spoke from behind me. Of course he did. He remembered everything I bought. 
He always demanded fashion shows after all my shopping trips. He knew nothing about clothes but he always paid attention to me. He used to sit for hours while I prattled on and on about clothes.
“Unzip me?” 
“I’m sorry?” He choked out, setting his beer down.
“I need to clean it before it stains. Unzip me.” 
In hindsight, I was goading him. I wanted to see what he would do. I could tell he was already on edge since seeing me with Rafe. I wondered what a little push would do.
Neither of us moved for a beat. JJ puffed out a breath from his cheeks before he walked toward me slowly. I remained stock still, watching his every move in the mirror.  “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 
My heart fluttered at his nearness. Something I wanted since the minute he turned around and left. Home, I wanted my home back.
I jumped up at the feel of his warm breath against the back of my neck, goosebumps rising instantly. The tug of the zipper had me swallowing the lump in my throat. His other finger caressing every inch of skin, the zipper surrendered. 
The sound of the zipper stopped but he never dropped his hand. Instead, I watched as JJ swallowed before lifting his head, those storming blue eyes connecting with mine in the mirror. 
I stood on my Magda Butrym Appliquéd satin sandals and a flimsy pair of tiny panties. 
“I feel like this is a test.” I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.
“Is it?” I mused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. 
“Yeah and I’m failing.” 
The pads of his thumb brushed along my bottom lip, dragging it down slowly. My lips parted as a soft whimper escaped. 
“You’re still so beautiful, it hurts.” He murmured, almost angry with the revelation. 
Blistering hot satisfaction dripped over me. 
JJ’s other hand grazed my bare back, the contact immediately chasing my back to arch. Sparks of sensitivity erupted from my skin as my body trembled with hot desire. 
His hand moved higher, gripping onto my hair before wrapping the long strands around his hand, tugging my head back, demanding my attention. 
He stared at me with heavy lids, eyes like ocean blue blades. My body began to heat up. 
JJ’s eyes dropped back to my lips causing me to the lick them quickly. He backed me up against the Jack and Jill sink, my back resting against the cool granite counter. 
I blinked slowly, making the decision for him, angling my head up and smashing my lips to his. 
A groan ripped from his chest as he met my kiss with the same crippling desperation. His rough hands dropped from my face to my hips, his nails digging crescent shaped marks in the skin. 
My legs began to slightly shake as his tongue finally brushed against mine. Oxygen was something neither of us needed as we fed off each other's energy. 
His tongue licked and twirled around my own, another moan vibrating between us. JJ’s large hand trailed up skin, goosebumps appearing in its wake, before locking around my throat. 
His grip was strong, not enough to cut off my oxygen but enough to garner my attention. He pulled me up to my tippy toes by my neck, my nipples brushing against the rough fabric of his shirt making me gasp at the contact. His mouth clashed with mine once more, his lips wrapped around my tongue, sucking gently before pulling back and biting out a curse. 
My hands were desperate as they began to unbutton his shirt quickly, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. JJ whipped off the shirt just as my hands began reaching for his shorts, my fingers fumbling with the button. 
The laugh he let out was devastating. His smile was purely lethal for my heart. “We got all the time in the world, princess.” 
My stomach clenched at the nickname he gave me all those years ago. But, we didn’t. We both knew this moment would end the minute we came to our senses. 
JJ unbuttoned his pants and dropped them in one smooth movement before pressing his warm body against mine once more.
“Up, baby.” My arms wrapped around his neck immediately, my nose grazing his. JJ gripped my thighs tight as he placed me on top of the counter. 
He rested the palm of his hands on either side of me, enclosing my frame, daring me to move. JJ leaned down, his lips leaving phantom kisses along my collarbone, nipping as he went along. He stopped at the swell of my breasts, both hands encasing my heavy aching breasts before pressing them together. 
He pressed scorching hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of exposed skin. His tongue pressing against my swollen nipples before closing around one and giving a strong suck. I was a mess beneath him, my chest heaving with heavy pants. 
He nipped and tugged at the soft flesh of my breasts, leaving small purple love bites scattered on my chest. He pressed a kiss on each one, a pleased hum echoing within the bathroom. 
JJ dropped to his knees slowly, each hand running down my bare legs. I wanted to see him. 
I leaned back on the palm of my hands and arched my back in a teasing invitation. Pulling my legs from his grasp, I propped my feet up on the counter, but kept my knees bent, the tops touching.
The utter obsession that painted his face had me biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. “Please, Jayj.”
He stood stock still, similar to a statue. It looked like he almost stopped breathing as I slowly pushed my knees apart. I was drenched, I could feel myself soaking the skimpy fabric of my thong, my thighs glistening with the evidence of my arousal. 
JJ’s eyes went black, locking in on my wet pussy before jumping back up to me. His hands found my thighs and roughly dug into the skin to keep my legs from closing. 
He leaned forward, his index finger hooking the front of my thong before curling the fabric and tugging it up roughly between my lips. “Fuck.” I mewled, watching as he pressed his face between my legs and inhaled deeply. 
I could feel my clit throbbing, needing to be touched. With one more tug, JJ slaps the side of my thigh, having me lift my hips up to take the last piece of fabric off my body. An insatiable grin formed on his face that went straight to my clit.
The first touch onto my lips had my hips shooting off the counter, his touch like electricity. He blew a breath against the aching skin, his hot mouth watering at the sight of me. Two fingers pushed apart my drenched folds, rubbing against the sensitive skin again and again, turning me into a mindless puddle. 
He smirked at my trembling legs. “You okay, baby?”
“Fuck off.” I responded through gritted teeth, trying to gather myself. 
He dipped forward, gathering saliva before slowly spitting it out, the stream of spit pattering against my spread lips. The sound was obscene. 
“That’s not very nice.” 
Tears of frustration began to build up as I discarded my hands into those loose blonde strands, knocking his hat off. “You love it.”
The grin he sent me was feral and I knew this was exactly what I needed. “I sure do, princess.”
He enclosed his mouth against my swollen clit and sucked roughly, a loud shout erupting from the depths of my chest. JJ parted my lips again, forcing his tongue inside and out, again and again, devouring every inch of my pussy. 
My cunt clenched against his tongue making him moan loudly. My body was burning as he swirled his tongue along the bundle of nerves once more. Another cry left me as I tried to find something to grab onto. His tongue lapped up all the fluids that continued to come out and I found myself forgetting how to breathe. 
I pushed his face deeper, grinding against his nose that continuously rubbed against my clit, my fingers tugging at his hair, needing a release. The knot in my lower stomach began to tighten as I whispered his name again and again like a prayer. The sound of my breathy pleas spur him on as he slipped two fingers in my pussy, meeting no resistance. 
The squelching noises had me throwing my head back against the mirror which had begun to fog up. I clenched around his large fingers that rubbed against my sensitive walls wanting him to lose control. 
JJ curled his fingers upward causing my knees to buckle and my mind go blank. I was close and he knew based on the tremors the shook my legs. I could barely hold myself up as everything went fuzzy. 
A choked moan escaped my lips that curled into a ‘o’ as his mouth sucked that rigid spot of flesh while his fingers continued to hammer into me. The invisible band snapped and as a wave of pleasure washed over me. My body finally began to relax as I tried to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling dramatically. 
I spared a glance at him. JJ’s eyes were low, eyes pitch black and glued to my face, and his cheeks flushed red. He looked pussy drunk. 
“Looks like I have to clean you up.” He mumbled against the flesh of my thighs. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his hot tongue began to catch all the arousal that dripped down my thighs. I was sensitive and tried to move back, but his hands locked around my thighs to keep them open. Shives forced their way up my spine as he lapped all my fluids up, humming as he went along, not leaving one bit of skin untouched. JJ pressed one last kiss before pulling back and licking his lips.
My heart hammered through my chest and vaguely though my haze of pleasure did I hear a murmur.
“Huh?” I felt him smile against my thigh, clearly finding my delirious state funny.
“Barry, man, have you seen her?” Rafe’s voice drifted under the door. 
I froze at the sound of his voice, my eyes darting to JJ who just smirked from his spot between my legs. 
“She’s right here, man.” JJ whispered, straightening up to press a kiss on the crown of my head. I shook my head at him, my eyes wide with a silent plea, but JJ disregarded it. 
 “She’s a little busy at the moment.” 
I shook my head, pressing my palm against his mouth, his next words coming out muffled. He never knew when to shut up. The last thing I needed was Rafe finding us in his bathroom.
I kept my hand on JJ’s mouth until footsteps faded and we were alone once again. 
JJ nipped at the palm of my hands, his tongue slipping out. My face screwed up as I let out a squeal, “Ew, Jayj.” 
“Shouldn’t have tried to shut me up to protect your boyfriend’s feelings.” He said the words lightly, but I could hear the slight edge in his tone. 
Pushing him off my softly, I hopped off the counter with shaky legs. “Since when do you care about Rafe’s feelings?”
I winced as I tried to take a step, my knees nearly knocking together from the aftershock. JJ always left me a shaking disheveled mess afterwards, but I felt lighter, because he was looking at me the way he used to. 
And, I wanted that to last just a bit longer. 
“I don’t care about his feelings-“ He scoffed, before pausing at the teasing smile on my lips. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Too easy.” I let out a shriek of laughter as JJ's arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up in the air.
That was how I found myself sweaty, pressed against Rafe’s sheets, struggling to breathe. The violent sound of skin slapping echoing in the room, my raspy moans intertwining with his hot pants. 
One of JJ’s hands gripped the back of my head, pinning me to the mattress, the other pushing down on my back, forming a deep arch, to pull his cock in deeper. 
I couldn’t register anything he was muttering as he bottomed out since of me, my mind go blank. My walls spasmed against him with each rut of his hip, sucking him back in every time he pulled back. 
I was soaked, my pussy dripping around him. The sopping wet noises spurring him on, his pace quickening with those deep purposeful strokes. 
I couldn’t focus on anything but him. The smell; the feel of him. The way his cock continued to brush against my cervix made me borderline delicious. 
“Fuck,” JJ shuddered, rolling his hips in and out of my pussy had me clamping around him once more, a tidal wave beginning to build up inside me. 
 I whimper left me, the coil in my stomach pulling tight as I searched for a release. The tip of his cock pressed into me repeatedly, forcing my legs to shake once more. 
My hands searched for something to hold onto as I tried to anchor myself from being drowned in pleasure. “J. J, I-I cant-I’m gonna-“
I felt his pace begin to pick him, his cock twitching inside me as he continued his movements, grinding his hips against the globes of my ass, until there was no space between us. 
It was like he was imprinting himself into my skin. Like he didn’t want me to forget him. 
As if I could ever forget JJ Maybank. 
My whines got louder, his words becoming more and more depraved. His large calloused hands ran all over my body like he was etching it to memory. 
Quick and quiet gasps bled from my parted lips, as he hammered into me from behind, his hands lacing with mine against the sheets. 
The coil in my stomach snapped, white flash blinding my vision, this orgasim more intense than the first. I could feel myself coating his hips and upper thighs, fluids dripping on the sheets. 
I could hear JJ’s voice whine, he began to babble nonsense under his breath, with each languid thrust. 
My heartbeat was in my ears as I pushed my hips back to match his thrusts, wanting him to finish despite all my sensitivity coming to head. His nails dug my hips, my cunt suffocating as he continued to grunt his cock into me. 
“Fuck, Kiara.” His grunt echoed in the room.
Kiara? 
I went numb. I couldn’t breathe-I couldn’t, I needed-
Bile coated my throat as whatever childish hope I had shriveled up in my chest. So I laid there, not knowing what to do, as JJ continued to pump in and out of me, but the soft intimacy we shared before dissipated. 
Why did no one ever pick me? Why didn’t anyone want me? 
I let my body go limp even though everything in me wanted to shove him off, but I just couldn’t get myself to move.
That was all it took for JJ to realize the slip of his tongue. JJ froze behind me as I shoved my face into my arms and choked on a gut wrenching sob. 
“Fuck, I-hold on,” JJ’s panick was audible as he slowly pulled out of me. I cupped my mouth to try and muffle the scream I wanted to let out. 
His blue eyes widened in horror at his mistake but it was too late. The words were already burned into my mind, replaying on a torturous loop.
JJ’s hand reached out for me, but I shrank back, scrambling to the headboard, desperate to put distance between us. 
I curled into myself, pressing my back hard against the headboard, willing for myself to disappear. 
“What did you just call me?” My chin wobbled. I tried to remind myself to breathe but with each inhale, my lungs were saturated with pain. 
“I-That was an accident.” He stuttered, raking his hands through his hair roughly.
“Get out.” 
“It just slipped out, I didn’t mean it.” 
“Get the hell out, JJ.” I yelled, and pointed at the door with a shaky finger. 
Like I said, his words never dented me, no they completely destroyed me. They cut me like a freshly honed razor blade.
And I was going to die of blood loss if I didn’t get him to leave this room. He had no problem leaving me then, why was he fighting it now?
Was he thinking about her the whole time he was inside me? 
Thought after thought haunted me. Was he comparing our bodies? Was he comparing the sex? 
Mortification had my stomach churning as I debated what to do next. My body was wound tight, on the verge of hyperventilating. 
Did he love her? Did he love her like he used to love me? Did he fuck her the way he fucked me?
I hated him. Before him, none of these thoughts would have crossed my mind. I may have been alone but at least I liked who I was. I never would have questioned myself the way I am now. But after him, the only thing I hated more than him was myself.
“Was Kiara not available,” I murmured, “so you came to the one person you knew would say yes?”
JJ didn’t find my joke funny. The air was tense, as if we were trapped in a steamed up bathroom, making each breath harder than the last.
“Kie and I aren’t together.”
“JJ, you know where the door is. Use it.” 
“I don’t want to leave.” He shook his head, his eyes flickering with something heavy. 
“You had no problem doing it before.”
“That was-“ JJ squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He shuffled closer to my body, but still wasn't touching me. I nibbled on my bottom lip and wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks hastily. 
“I’m sorry.” He said, clearing his throat. “I am so so sorry.”
I lost my grip completely as those eyes perverted mine. His eyes were so blue, it was easy to get lost in them. 
Words couldn’t find their way out of my mouth. With wary eyes, I watched as he stood up and disappeared in the bathroom before appearing again with his shirt. 
JJ reached for me before pausing, his eyes asking a silent question. I nodded, forcing myself to loosen the grip I had on the sheets. 
I let him put the shirt on me, its protection better than the flimsy sheet. JJ dropped his head on my chest, his tan arms wrapped around my waist, curling himself into me. 
“I’m sorry.” 
I was sorry too. I waited for months for him to be back in my arms, but he ruined every independent thought I had. I couldn’t stop the overthinking. I couldn’t stop the pain.
I was hurting too, but I was the one comforting him. I was always the one comforting him. What about me?
I laid on the soft sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Our heavy breathing echoing in an otherwise silent room. His heavy arm tossed over naked torso, his fingers softly tracing the curve. The whisper of his breath caressing the nape of my neck where his face was buried. The familiar tickle of his golden strands brushing against my nose, his coconut shampoo wafting my senses.
The JJ induced haze began to clear up and the ugliness began to set in. 
A single tear escaped my eye, its trailing burning it’s way down the side of my face. I loved him. Even after he willingly abandoned me. After he humiliated me in front of everyone. After he called me her name.
I couldn’t cut him out. It didn’t matter what he did to me, the minute we’re within the same vicinity, my self preservation disappeared. Then I was left, treading water in the middle of a storm, with nothing but a life jacket. 
I had no one to blame but myself in this situation. I knew how he spoke to me, how easily he left me, how embarrassed he was of me. But he just smiled and it was like everything melted away. 
I so badly wanted to feel again, but not like this.
So all I can do is lay here. In this bed. With a boy who made me hate the kind person that I was. 
I made my bed. I didn’t realize this was how I’d feel when I lied in it. I turned into someone I hated. And suddenly I was bone-tired, exhaustion suffocating my lungs. I had no idea who I was and I was tired of being someone I wasn’t. 
“Where are my clothes?” I said. God, I needed to leave this room before Rafe found me. 
“I wasn’t really focused on that part, babe.” JJ mumbled, burrowing himself deeper into my side. 
My stomach lurched. I thought I’d feel different. I thought that maybe this would fix everything. That in some deluded way, we would get back together and everything else didn’t matter. Like he didn’t leave me standing at the party after stomping on my chest.
“I need them.” I mumbled. I choked down the need to throw up. The feel of our sweat coating my body and his soft breaths against my skin had me almost hyperventilating. 
Home, he used to be home. But, I’ve never felt like more of a stranger than in his arms right now. This was no longer my home. 
Kook pussy. Daddy issues.
I fucked up. Fuck, I fucked up. 
This only made me feel worse. I was good enough to fuck, but not enough to stay. 
“What are you in such a hurry for?” His fingers paused their persistent movement. 
“I have to get back-“
“To who?” JJ snapped. 
I moved to sit up, dragging the sheet with me as I avoided his gaze. “You know who.”
He didn’t need to know that Rafe and I basically ended. I just wanted him to hurt in the same way I did.
He let out a scoff. “You can’t be serious?” 
“Dead serious.” 
“This isn’t like you-“
“You left. You don’t know who I am anymore.” 
“Clearly,” he chuckled under his breath, “But suddenly Rafe does?”
I shrugged. “He’s my friend.”
“I don’t give a fuck who he is-“
I tuned him out. I was too busy trying to get his actual voice out of my head. 
Kiara. Not me. Kiara. Not me. 
It had taken every bit of strength to not chase after him that day. To not call and text, begging for him to give me the time of day. And I know, I know I should be stronger. I know I should have said good riddance and moved on, but love was never simple. 
When I saw him tonight, I thought that maybe it was fate. So all the waiting, all the practice of self control paid off because he came back. But, was this what was waiting for me?
“You slept with me,” I said, “ but you’re thinking about her?”
I didn’t want to know the answer, but I had to ask it. It was just one of a million questions I had since the day he walked away. Was there something I could have done differently?
I was wracking my brain to see where I had gone wrong, but maybe I just fell in love with the wrong person.
“From what I hear, you don’t care about anything these days. Why would you care about this?” I couldn’t detect any emotion in his words, just cold hard facts. 
I really was out here exceeding everyone’s expectations of me. 
But, he had to know that when it came to him, I always cared too much. That’s why his words caused another jagged piece of my heart to puncture my chest.
“Why would I care?” I whispered, shaking my head at him. “Are you listening to yourself?” 
Had I deluded myself so much into thinking we experienced the same love in our relationship? How could he even question that. Everything I did was always for him.
“I care about you, that never changed.”
Something pained flickered through his gaze. “Care about me? Yet your fucking Rafe Cameron.” 
“You’re mad about that?” I choked on a humorless laugh,”Let me jog your memory real quick since apparently you’ve got amnesia, you were the one that told me to be with him.” 
“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do that to me.”
I threw my arms up in the air, exasperated,”Then why say it at all? Wait, I forgot who I’m talking to. You’re the king of saying shit you don’t mean.” 
“Saying shit and actually doing it are two different things.”
“Well, you did do it Jayj.” My lungs hitched. 
His jaw tightened, tension seeping out of him in waves. 
“You left. You did the one thing you promised you’d never do. You didn’t even look back as you did it.” I shouted, tears blurring my vision as my body continued to shake from adrenaline. “All because what? Rafe hurt your feelings? Because I have more money than you?”
I wanted to understand him. I thought I did once, but the more I thought about our breakup the more I saw it had nothing to do with me. And everything to do with him.
“Do me a favor and grow up. This is the real world. You’d swap places with any one of us in a second if you could.” 
JJ narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want any part of your world. I thought I made that clear.”
“I’m aware. But I was there, remember? For every bonfire, for every boat ride with you and your friends. What was it you guys said again?” It rushed out of me, “to going full kook?”
He watched me stoically, his fingers tugging at his bracelets. 
“I guess you’re the only one that can have the money in the relationship?” I raised my eyebrow at him, waiting for him to respond. 
The beautiful blonde boy that seeped into my bloodstream and made me love him. But, ruined us in the process. He destroyed everything he touched. 
He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, 
“What happened?”
“You want to know what happened? You fucking happened.”
That familiar anger flared in his eyes and I knew exactly what he was going to do. What he always did to me, but this time, I wasn’t going to let him erase me. Not again.
“Let’s talk about who you turned into?” JJ spat vehemently. “What? Rafe buys you a nice purse and you’re suddenly snorting lines of coke?” 
“It was actually a couple purses.” 
JJ shot daggers at me. “So what? You’re proud of that?” No, I only wanted someone to care about me if I died.
“I’m only doing what you told me, I’m sorry you don’t like the person you turned me into.”
I didn’t like her much either. But, JJ never gave me more and I realized he would never give me more, no matter how much I pushed. No matter how hard I tried to get him to see that I was the one he should be with. 
It pained me that it took all of this for me to realize that there were parts of JJ he would never let anyone have. 
“Why are you still here?” I said quietly. “I’m not going to let you sit here and make me feel like shit for how I chose to cope with what you broke.” 
I was done giving the men in my life power over me. I needed to stand on my own two feet even if that meant I had to do it alone. 
“Feel like shit?” JJ nodded his head with mock outrage,” Princess, you just let me fuck you in your boyfriend’s bed. I think you feel like shit already.” 
He was right, but I still recoiled back at the venom he spat at me. I sagged with exhaustion. He was just lashing out the way he always did.
“I didn’t know, JJ.” My voice cracked. “I-I didn’t know. I just did what I thought I was supposed to do.”
JJ’s head snapped up at the waver in my voice. His ocean eyes showed a clear battle, one I knew he’d lose. “S-Sometimes it just felt like I wasn’t good enough.”
His confession broke me. I knew the thoughts that ravaged his brain only because those same thoughts now drown in mine.  
My fingers twisted the hem of the shirt that my body was swimming in, a nervous tic I never got rid of. “But I never said that to you, you listened to everyone but me. You were more than enough.”
A tortured look passed his face, like the obvious miscommunication had disrupted everything. “I thought I was being paraded around to prove a point.”
I roughly wiped the tears that kept falling, “It’s okay to not want to struggle for everything in your life, JJ. You were exhausted and I just wanted to help you.”
“I didn’t know. I-just didn’t know.” I continued to repeat.  And I didn't. I had no experience with love. I wanted him to have the world since he was born with less than most people I knew, yet he deserved so much more.
“You let your friends help you, I don’t understand how I was any different.”
His blonde hair was sticking up in multiple directions, a clear sign of his obvious distress. "Because they’re my family."
Irremediable sorrow burrowed in my chest. "But, I was your family too."
I felt layers of grief his me in waves, quick and hard, one after the other as I came to terms with the fact that JJ never considered me any part of his family.
"You were the only family I ever had. I thought I was your family.” I sniffled, my ribs began to ache from the constant crying. 
A loud crack had me jump back as Rafe bursted into the room, chest heaving from exertion. He paused, his eyes locking in on the messed up sheets before dragging over to me and scanning my disheveled appearance. 
I thought we hit a milestone. JJ finally started talking and letting me know exactly what was going on in that brain of his. And maybe, that would be enough for me, for now. This all happened because JJ didn’t know how to communicate and I knew that wasn’t his fault, but at one point he needed to grow up. 
I was willing to hold his hand while he did it. But I watched as JJ’s eyes clocked the necklace Rafe wore with my initials. His gaze narrowed at the purse in his hand and my car keys in the other. 
The jealousy was evident in the way he rolled his shoulders back, his face granite. “Cute necklace.”
Rafe smirked, tilting his head to the side. “Thanks. It looks even better swinging in her face.”
JJ’s cool demeanor dropped, his blue eyes darkened into a brewing storm. “Enjoy my seconds, bro.” He clapped Rafe on the chest. 
My heart popped in my chest at his words, another bandage would do little to fix the shards that once resembled a heart. And, I knew then, that JJ confirmed the conclusion I just came to myself. 
“JJ?”
“What?”
“You were right. I do deserve better than you.” 
Loving him cost me something much greater: myself. 
I couldn’t continue to hide myself in any man that told me pretty words. I was no longer my own person, just a mere extension of them. One that they treated poorly and only took out when they were bored. I was always willing to do what they would never do for me.
I was just a girl, in love with an extraordinary boy who couldn’t see past all the things he was not.
I walked over to where Rafe was, forcing myself to remember his cruel words also. It was the only way I could get myself to walk out of here. My eyes lingered on the necklace for a second before I pulled my keys from his grasp and grabbed my purse. 
I wore nothing but JJ’s shirt, but at the moment I couldn’t care less. I left my clothes in Rafe’s bathroom, deciding it was better to leave them then spend another second in either of their soul sucking presence. I could always buy another dress. 
I couldn’t buy another me. Not if I kept letting these boys break me. 
This time, I was the one that never looked back.
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Side note: I WROTE THIS THREE TIMES so pls pls pls be nice to me. I tried to incorporate a lot of people's ideas. I know the OC is very wishy washy but she's so real for that.
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moonstruckme · 8 months ago
Note
hey mae! it’s been awhile since i’ve sent an ask but im always reading your work girl! i love how you write tbh. if you’re up to it do you think you could write something with poly marauders, where the reader has trouble eating and making themself eat due to poor appetite. my appetite really does come and go and ever since covid (maybe before) it’s like eating makes me feel revolted. sometimes i just don’t feel like eating bc of other things like depression, adhd, anxiety. i was just wondering if you could write something with the boys helping out the reader with finding out what sounds good, cooking, and eating if possible. sometimes having someone around to talk to and hang out with makes it so much easier to deal -🌶️
Hey Pepper, thank you sm! And thanks for being patient with me <3
cw: lack of appetite, mention of skipping meals
poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 1.1k words
The sun’s going down, the last dregs of its light spilling brilliant and golden over the book in your lap, and you can feel your boyfriends starting to get restless. Well, two of them. 
“If we’re missing half the ingredients,” Sirius says, trailing James into the kitchen, “it’s not going to be any good.” 
James only tsks. “Ye of little faith. That’s what improvisation is for.” He starts pulling things down from the cabinet. 
“You’re not even going to glance at the recipe?” 
“I don’t need to. I know the general vibe.” 
“Help!” Sirius calls towards the living room. “He’s gone off the rails. Remus, come fix it.” 
Remus turns around to look over the back of the sofa, his shoulder brushing yours as he does. He’s sitting right up against you despite the couch being empty, not that you mind. Remus is sort of like a cat that wants to be near you but not always to be pet. His touches are often like this, passive gestures like a hand on your head or his thigh pressed against yours. It works for you just fine; you can feel the affection bleeding into you from any point of contact. 
“Don’t you think we should just eat out?” Sirius asks, tilting his head and doing that thing with his eyes that you all pretend doesn’t work on you. 
Impressively, Remus keeps his face impassive. “I’m having leftover brussels sprouts,” he replies, “so it’s not really my concern. Anyway, James has a good history with not following recipes.” 
“Exactly,” James says, grinning at Sirius, who scowls. But then he fixes his gaze on Remus. “So why are you having that, Rem? Have what I’m making.” 
“Because they’re going to go bad, and I’m not hungry enough for a big meal.” The last part is said somewhat quieter, directed towards the living room as he turns back around and picks up his own book. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see James frown, but he glances at Sirius and they seem to collectively decide not to push it. Remus’ appetite isn’t much better than yours. He has his better days, but it’s not uncommon for him not to feel up to what your other boyfriends would consider a whole meal or to eat only chocolate until Sirius hounds him into something more substantial. 
James looks to you hopefully. “You’ll have some, won’t you sweetheart?” 
You wince, hating to let him down, and from the look on James’ face he clocks the guilt in your expression before even you get a chance to say, “I don’t think I’m really up to it tonight, either.” 
James deflates, but he’s clearly trying to put on a brave face. “That’s alright. I think I’ll just save it for another night, then.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say, setting your book facedown on the armrest and turning around to face him more fully. “You could still make it and just put leftovers in the freezer. Maybe I’ll have some tomorrow.” You wince again as soon as you say it. No promises, though.
The smile James gives you is comforting if not totally satisfied. “It’s okay. I’ll just make it another time, it’s not a problem.” 
You return his smile, close-lipped. Sirius is looking at you with narrowed eyes, arms crossed like he’s sizing you up. 
“What are you going to eat?” he asks. 
“Hm?” 
“What are you going to have instead?” You hesitate, and he tilts his head knowingly, a piece of hair slipping from behind his ear to drape over his shoulder. “You need to have something, especially since you didn’t have lunch.” 
From the kitchen, James looks at you. “You didn’t?” 
“I just…don’t feel like it.” It’s a feeble argument even to your own ears, and the look Sirius gives you says that he thinks so, too. 
“You can’t miss two meals,” he says obstinately. “Even Remus is having some brussels sprouts.”
You look to Remus to be offended at the even Remus comment, but he only shrugs. You’re on your own. 
“What sounds good?” he asks you. 
You try not to pout. “Nothing. Everything sounds gross.” 
“C’mon, baby.” Sirius leans against the countertop. “It doesn’t have to be strictly dinner food, yeah? Just anything that sounds like you’d be willing to eat it.” 
You think for a minute. Remus touches the back of his hand to your leg, knuckles soothing over the skin beside your knee. 
“I guess…ice cream sounds okay,” you say hesitantly. “But I know that’s not exactly nutritious…” 
“Would a milkshake be close enough?” James pipes up. 
You shrug. “I guess.” 
He grins. “I can do that for you, lovie. Just gimme a sec.” 
James is a loud cook. You go back to your book while cabinet doors slam and the blender whirs and there's a muffled “oh, shit” as something is undoubtedly dropped on the floor, but a minute later he’s bringing you a glass of something thick and chocolate-y looking. You smile at the added garnish of mint and a straw, reaching for it. 
“Thanks, Jamie.” 
He winks. “Anytime.” 
Remus is the only one courteous enough not to obviously watch while you take a sip, and you feel your eyebrows raise as you look up at James. 
“This is really good,” you say. He practically glows at the praise. “I didn’t even know we had chocolate ice cream.” 
Sirius barks a laugh, and James’ smile widens. 
“What?” you ask. 
“We don’t,” he admits. “Will it ruin your appetite if I tell you it’s not actually ice cream?” 
You shake your head, sucking at the straw. “I’m already drinking it, so.” 
James beams. He really is looking very proud of himself. “It’s a protein shake. A pretty balanced meal, actually.” 
“Oh, nice.” You grin at him, taking another hearty slurp mostly because you know it’ll please him. “It’s perfect, thank you.” 
“Gotta keep our sweetheart fed,” he says, bending down for a kiss. Sirius and Remus’ hums of approval nearly harmonize, and you and James share an elated look while they both do their best to pretend like it didn’t happen. 
“Can I try?” Remus asks, and you tilt the cup towards him in invitation. 
He wraps his lips around your straw, sipping hesitantly. He looks mildly impressed. 
“Could you make me one of those too?” 
From the look on James’ face, he’d be delighted to. “Course, love.” He plants a smacker on Remus’ cheek and nearly knocks Sirius over as he beelines for the kitchen. 
“This is just excellent,” Sirius gripes, but you see the satisfaction in his expression. “Now that you two have blown up his ego, I’ll have to eat something he makes too.” 
“Correct,” James says brightly. “And you should be so lucky.” 
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buckyalpine · 1 year ago
Text
Beefy Mob Bucky catches you
Let's ignore the fact that I have 50 wips and many requests, lets think about thicc, beefy, sexy daddy mob Bucky and his needy slutty princess. He's been away for weeks, leaving you to take care of yourself and its been hell not having him there to fill your needy pussy up. You managed to distract yourself for a bit but you could only take so much, the ache between your legs growing unbearable. Which is exactly what led yourself to be in this position, naked, with your vibrator slipping in and out of you, whining and whimpering on the bed. You were so lost in your fantasy of your beefy daddy railing you with his cock, splitting you in half, you missed the sound of footsteps approaching the door and the click of the doorknob.
The low growl he let out caught your attention but you couldn't be bothered to stop, more arousal pouring out of you at the sight of your mob boss watching you with his lustful eyes, the bulge in his pants pressed tight against the fabric.
"Look at you babygirl" He purred, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt while walking over to the bed, fully focused on the creamy mess you had already made between your legs, your doe eyes unable to focus with how pent up you were. "This is my pussy princess, who gave you permission to play with it"
"Missed you daddy" You whimpered, fucking yourself faster, deep in subby space, your back arching off the bed as the toy hit your g-spot. It didn't fill or stretch you the way Bucky did but you needed this and you were too far gone to stop even if he was finally home. "Felt too tingly"
You slowed down your movements while Bucky stripped off his clothes, standing at the foot of the bed, his cock standing tall and proud, leaking down the shaft.
"Ah- I didn't tell you to stop pretty girl, keep going" He crossed his arms over his broad chest, loving the way your moans melted into soft cries; you were nearly drooling at the sight of him caressing his ego.
"Awww, my poor princess, you want daddy's cock, is that all baby? Your little button got all tingly cause I wasn't here to rub you better, is that it?" Bucky crawled onto the bed and on top you, his thick thighs spread apart while he cock hung above your face, balls nudging against your chin. You nodded, letting out a wanton moan at the sight of him, you were so close to being able to taste him and fuck he smelled so goddamn good. Bucky reached for the toy that you were still languidly playing with, tossing it aside before smirking down at you. "Tell daddy all the things you wanted baby"
"Wanna suck you" You mewled, nuzzling your nose against his heavy sac, desperate to wrap your lips around his leaky head. Who was he to deny his needy baby, desperate for his cock. He squeezed around the base of his length, painting your lips with precum before slipping it into your mouth. You moaned at the salty precum that dripped onto your tongue, greedy lapping and suckling from his head, eyes rolling back from how good he tasted.
"Hungry for milk are you princess?" Bucky loved the lewd sound of your desperate sucking, your gags and moans were muffled with how deep his cock was in your throat. He could feel his cock throb, surprised at himself at how quickly his orgasm already built up, thought it was expected whenever he was with you, his insatiable minx. "C’mon baby, drink from daddy’s thick fat bottle that’s it, such a good dumb baby, makin' me so hard, where do you want my cum pretty girl" Bucky slipped his cock out of you mouth, chuckling at the disgruntled whine you let out.
"Inside daddy" You moaned, spreading your legs for him, giving him a few of your tight fluttering hole begging to be filled. Bucky didn't waste a second positioning himself above you and shoving his cock in with one stroke, pounding you into the mattress with full force.
"D-D-ADDYYY" You cried out, clawing at his wide back to grasp onto something, your legs wrapping around his thick waist while he plowed into you, deep grunts and moans slipping past his lips while he ruined your pussy with his cock.
"This pussy is mine, all fucking mine, mine to fuck, mine to lick, mine to play with, mine to fill up, you hear me princess?" Bucky let his heavy body cage you, his arms wrapping around your body to hold you close to him, fucking you till the headboard banged against the wall. "No more pathetic toys baby, daddy's gonna give you all the cock you want, s'that what you want baby? My little cockdrunk bunny"
"Wan-wan cock-I-daddy cumming!!" You hiccupped between sobs, squirting all over his crotch, wetting the bed in the process, the band in your belly snapping without warning. Bucky nearly came on the spot at the way way you soaked him, the slick sounds of your combined arousal filling the room, his pace faltering.
"Sweetheart, you wet the bed, you're so messy princess, daddy loves his dirty girl. So naughty aren't you, gonna cum for you bunny, fuck-take it-TAKE IT" Bucky nearly roared, letting out a deep guttural moan before stilling and pushing himself in as far as he could before his cock started to throb. "M'fucking cumming so much for you baby-fuckkkk"
He didnt bother pulling out of you, rutting his cock in and out till he was milked dry, rolling over so you were now on top, his length still deep in your pussy. You whimpered at the feeling of his cum dripping of you, clenching around him, still hazy from your orgasm but alert enough to know you wanted more.
"Wan cock" You slurred out while Bucky chuckled, shaking his head and kissing your temple, holding you to his chest.
"Maybe after a nap my insatiable little bunny"
Anyway. My bad.
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unconventional-lawnchair · 1 month ago
Text
...Too Late."
Remus Lupin x Potter!Reader
Summary: Remus comes to terms with a love lost to his own insecurities.
CW; Use of {Y/N}, Remus is dumb, yearning}
Wc: 3706
Part two
The cold night air nipped at Remus’s skin with an intensity he wasn't familiar with. He kept himself focusing on anything other then the bright lights and muffled music behind him.
He wasn't unused to the parties the Potters would throw, they were always over the top and loud, especially when James planned them. Remus would always do his rounds, speak to people he hasn't spoken to since Hogwarts, and then disappear in some quiet corner with one of Lily’s many books. Tonight? He would do anything to go home.
It wasn't the party, it wasn't his friends, for once it wasn't Sirius’s obnoxious drunken stunts. Nothing like that could send the werewolf running with his tail between his legs.
Of course, it could only be you.
“Woah, pretty cold out here, hm?” Your voice called out into the balcony from where you peaked out the door. Remus grimaced, what did he expect? Of course you would come looking for him. You two were best friends.
“Something on your mind, little Lupin?” You persisted despite his lack of acknowledgement. Remus would have rolled his eyes if he could keep the small smile off his face. You had a talent for making him feel a million emotions at once.
Ever since the day James introduced him to his older sister, the Quidditch captain, turned prefect, turned head girl. Now? Celebrated Auror. A full fledged detective.
Here he was, two years graduated and already falling behind. When he was younger, you were so unobtainable. Gone before he even hit year five. There, he could pretend that his heart didn't ache at your name, that you weren't always on his mind, that he didn't spend sleepless nights telling Lily just how much it pained him to know he'd never be worth your time.
He felt like a sap. Like a sad excuse of a man to know you hadn't spent a minute thinking about him the ways he thought of you.
“Remus?” Your voice was closer this time. You had your hands on the railing and were looking at him with such sweet eyes. Ones he remembered from his nights up in the hospital wing, with you reciting old notes from your previous years you had kept, while others studied in the classrooms.
“Hey, {Y/N}.” He mumbled and you clearly grimaced, making him look away from you.
“Have I...” You fiddled with your fingers, looking off at the manor you grew up running around. “Have I done something wrong, Remus?”
“What?” He whispered and turned to face you fully, his face falling hard. He had the chance to fully take you in. You were beautiful, but he knew that. Your hair was shorter then he remembered, your eyes were brighter, you looked.. happier. But even then, you were frowning, your brows furrowed, and it was because of him.
You gave a half sigh half scoff as you gestured between the two of you. “I haven't seen you in three years, Rem. You took one look at me and walked away.”
Remus felt his heart sink a bit at your tone. He hated to disappoint you, but what could he do to make this better? “I-” What could he say to make this hurt less? His voice came out like a pathetic whisper. “I didn't mean to, I just didn't know.. what to say? What to do?”
You have another, much more clear scoff. You raised an eyebrow, and the look on your face was a blend of confusion and something deeper. Something that made his stomach churn. “How to act? Remus, we were best friends. We still are, aren’t we?” You bit your cheek and look back at him, locking your eyes. “Even if you insist on pretending you don't know me.”
Remus felt the heat rise to his ears, an all-too-familiar rush of embarrassment mixed with guilt. A weird mixture that he seemed to seep in whenever you were around. It was never his intention to push you away, but the fear of his feelings had always loomed larger than the friendship you carried. He didn't want to be your friend. But he would have you anyway he could, even if it hurt him more then he'd like to admit. It felt like a weight too heavy to carry, and he had thought that distancing himself would lessen the burden.
“I…” He started, but the words tangled in his throat. You sat there patiently. You always did. From his monthly outlashes to his damaged moping after. “You don’t understand. It’s not that I don’t care about you. It’s just... every time I see you, it feels like I’m standing on the edge of something I can’t have.” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes squishing closed. “You’re amazing, {Y/N}. You’ve done so much, and I-”
“Remus,” you interrupted, taking a step closer, your eyes searching his. Carefully, you placed a hand on his arm and it was like every knot in his body released. “You’re amazing too. You just graduated not but two years ago, and you’re already doing incredible things. I've heard about how you've joined the order, that's amazing. Everyone speaks so highly of you, please. You can’t keep comparing yourself to me. I’m not some unattainable ideal. I’m your friend. You know me, I'm just {Y/N}.”
“I'm just {Y/N}.”
You've said that to him so many times you'd think he'd listen.
But each time, it felt like a reminder that no matter how much you downplayed your accomplishments, with your Potter humility, you were still lightyears ahead of him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow unworthy of you, that your brilliance only served to highlight his own insecurities. You were the sun, you always would be. And he could only reflect what you saw in him. With all your light, he could only admire it.
“{Y/N}, you don’t get it.” He said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You’ve always been the one in the spotlight, and I’m just... me.” He gestured to himself, before giving a low sigh. “Can we talk about something else?”
You frowned, your brow furrowing as you considered his words. “So you think I’m only here for the spotlight? That I wouldn’t choose to be around you just because you feel like you don’t measure up?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he replied, his voice rising with each word. “It’s not that simple! I care about you too much to drag you down with me. I want you to be happy, and I’m not-”
“Remus, don't.” You cut him off and lifted your hand. He could hear your voice crack, the corners of your eyes glistened. He felt his heart break, again and again, as he admired the glistening rock on your fingers; one far bigger then he could ever afford. “You don't get to do this. You don't get to ignore me for years and then.. profess your love! Like that just makes every night I spent just waiting-”
Your voice finally cracked and you sniffled, quickly drying your tears with your open palm. “Waiting for you to say it.”
“{Y/N}...”
“No.” You shook your head and sniffed a bit. “I'm not letting you do this. Not at my engagement party, Remus. Your timing is shit and I deserve someone who won't shut me out. Won't make me wait-”
“Won't know you longer than a year before getting on one knee for you?” He snapped back and you gave a bitter laugh.
“A man who loved me enough to get over himself!” You shouted back and he shook his head.
“Oh right, because Benjy Fenwick has so much to get over, right? That pretty scarless face and his normal full moons?” He shouted. “How long did he have to pine after you for you to entertain him?”
“You don't get to pick at him. You don't get to diminish our relationship because you didn't take me when you could have had me!”
The air between you crackled with tension, both of your hearts laid bare in the chilly night and icy glares. Remus could feel the sting of your words hitting him harder than any hex ever could, and it cut deeper than his own self absorbed pity. He had never meant to make you feel small, and yet here he was, pushing his own insecurities onto you.
“I didn’t mean to-” He felt his words catch in his throat, but even those words fell flat, lost in the weight of your confession. He could of had you. He could see the hurt in your eyes, and it twisted his gut in a way that was both familiar and so foreign he was sure it wasn't his own body..
“You didn’t mean to what, Remus?” Your voice dripped with frustration, the vulnerability from moments ago replaced with an anger he was never on the receiving side of. “You didn’t mean to ruin the night? What we had? You didn’t mean to push me away? Or maybe you just didn’t mean to love me at all?”
The last words hung in the air and he could only look down at your left hand again. It was like a wall, something blocking him away from what he truly wanted. Something he waited far too long for.
The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating, as the reality of your words settled in. Remus felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him, leaving him teetering on the edge of a precipice he had never wanted to face. His yearning. The air was heavy with all the things left unsaid, all the moments he had missed, and all the chances he hadn’t taken.
Was this one? Or should he drop it too? Would it be better for him to push? For him to take the chance? Or let you go.
“{Y/N}…” He managed, but the words felt insufficient, like a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm that had grown between you. One he chiseled out himself over the years he was too much of a coward to face you. “I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe me.”
Your gaze softened momentarily, but the hurt was still there, raw and so clear. “You didn’t just hurt me, Remus. You left me wondering what I did wrong. Why you couldn’t see me for who I really was. I'm not some hero I'm just.. I'm just a Potter. I was just a girl who-.” Your voice trembled, and he felt a pang in his chest, like a physical ache at the thought of causing you pain. “Who loved you, Remus. Who loved you so much.”
“I thought I was protecting you.” He said, desperation creeping into his tone. “I thought if I stayed away, you’d be happier. That maybe I wouldn’t be a burden on everyone I knew. You were special. You were special to me, {Y/N}.”
“Were.” You whispered. “Was. I was. You were too Remus.”
“{Y/N}, please-”
“Hey, princess, you out here?” It was like a lightning bolt had struck, cutting through the tension that had built up like a storm cloud between you. Leaving its damaging crackles between you two, blocking Remus from crossing the line. The lovely voice of Benjy Fenwick echoed from inside the house, and your expression shifted instantly- a mask of calmness slipping over the raw emotion that had just been laid bare between you.
“Just a minute!” You called back, though your gaze remained locked on Remus, a flicker of panic showing in your eyes. He could see the struggle within you, the desire to stay and confront the truths that hung in the air, but also the need to go back to him, to shield yourself from the pain he had caused. To be with the man who was months away from promising that pain like this would never cross your face again.
“{Y/N}…” He started again, his heart racing. He felt as if he were grasping at smoke, trying to hold onto you with so much desperation. He could see it, however, you were already gone.
“Remus, I…” You hesitated, glancing back towards the door where Benjy’s voice called again, more impatient this time. “I can’t do this right now.”
With that, you took a step back, breaking the weathering connection that had tethered you together just moments before. The warmth of your hand on his arm faded, and he was left feeling colder than ever. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, like a spell cast that he couldn’t break.
“Please.” He begged, his voice a mere whisper now, barely audible over the muffled music. “Don’t go.”
But you were already turning away, caught between two worlds- the past and the future, the love you had shared and the life that was now laid out before you. He couldn’t blame you for wanting to step back into the safety of the warm lights and laughter, to return to the life that felt secure, even if it meant leaving him behind. Leaving him to watch helplessly as you fell into the arms of a man that was nothing like him.
“Remus.” You warned, your voice trembling as you faced him one last time. “I need to go. I can’t keep doing this. Not now.”
Your eyes were filled with a mixture of nostalgic pain and resolve, and in that moment, he could see the conflict raging within you. But he felt powerless to change your mind, to convince you to stay and unravel the tangled web of emotions that had ensnared both of you. He was taking his last stand for you.
“Wait.” His voice cracked, stepping forward, his heart pounding so loud he couldn't hear anything but your voice. “I know I messed up. I know I made you wait, and I know I pushed you away. But I don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”
Your gaze dropped to the ground, and he could see the battle you were fending off with yourself. “Remus, you’re not losing me,” you pushed, your voice softening, though the distance between you felt greater then ever. “You made your choice when you walked away. You chose to shut me out.”
“No, I chose to keep you safe.” He insisted, desperation taking a full hold on his voice. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I stayed away, I wouldn’t ruin your life. But I see now that all I did was make you feel alone.”
You inhaled sharply, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of understanding in your eyes. “You don’t know what it feels like to be waiting in the dark, Remus. You don’t know what it’s like to love someone who won’t let you in.”
His heart ached at your words, and he took another step closer, reaching out as if he could draw you back into the warmth of his arms, at least as a friend, the connection that had once felt so unbreakable. “I'll let you in now. I’m here. I’m ready to be what you need. Just give me a chance. Please.”
But you shook your head, the resolve returning to your features. “You had your chance, Remus. And I’m not going to break another heart just to spare mine-”
“Ours.” He insisted and you shook your head. You tried to hide it, but he could see it. You weren't over him. And he clung to the chance like it was a life line.
“Baby! There you are!” Benjy laughed as he opened the patio door. He stepped out and Remus watched as you schooled your expression and gave him a dazzling smile. Your mascara was smokey now, he could see how much you were clearly bothered in the new light.
Benjy didn't notice. “Pretty girl, it's freezing out here!” He chuckled and took off his jacket, placing it over your shoulders and put his arm around you. You just laughed and shook your head.
“It's not that bad.” You tried to placate and he didn't seem to notice your words. His cheeks flush and clearly a bit drunk.
“Hey! Remus, right? You're the new kid who joined the order, aren't ya? You know each other?” He mused and gestured between you two.
Remus felt a wave of nausea wash over him at Benjy’s familiarity with you. The warmth of your laughter felt like a dagger to his heart, twisting as he forced a smile in return, though he could feel the edges of his resolve crumbling.
“Yeah, that’s me.” He nodded, his voice low as he tried to mask the bitterness he felt. He wanted to say more, to challenge the ease with which Benjy wrapped his arm around you, but the words stuck in his throat. It felt as if he were standing on the sidelines of a game he had once played, now just a spectator to the happiness he had allowed to slip away.
You turned to Benjy, your eyes sparkling with a mix of affection he knew used to belong to him. “I was just enjoying some fresh air. Remus was keeping me company.”
“Oh, really? I thought I’d find you two out here reminiscing about your Hogwarts days.” Benjy chuckled, oblivious to the reminder only making you wince. “Thanks for keeping her entertained, bud.”
Benjy clapped his hand to Remus’s arm and turned, pulling you closer. “Let's get inside, yeah? Gonna freeze my tits off.”
His crude comment shocked a laugh out of you, making Remus flinch.
“Yeah, let’s get inside.” You hummed with a nod, your voice carrying a cheerfulness that felt forced. Remus wanted to scream, to reach out and pull you back, to tell you everything he had been too scared to say. But the words remained lodged in his throat, heavy with the weight of regrets unspoken.
As you turned to walk back inside, Remus felt the distance between you grow. He wanted to call after you, to stop you and lay bare his heart, but the laughter and music from the party surged around him, drowning out his thoughts.
He was losing you, and he knew it. The very thought made his heart ache, a dull throb that reverberated through him. It was a pain he had grown accustomed to over the years, but now it felt all too real, all too present, and he couldn’t bear it.
“Hey, Remus!” James's voice suddenly broke through the fog of his despair as he approached, a bright smile on his face. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Just… catching some fresh air. {Y/N} was keeping me out of my head.” Remus muttered, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He could see the excitement written all over his face, but it felt miles away, a world he no longer belonged to.
“Come inside! You’re missing the best part!” James insisted, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve got some games going on, and Lily’s got a surprise planned. You’ll want to be there for it.”
Remus nodded, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Alright, but don’t keep us waiting too long!” James called, heading back into the house, leaving Remus alone once more.
With a heavy sigh, Remus leaned against the railing, staring out into the night. The stars twinkled above him, indifferent to his turmoil, and he felt a hollow emptiness settle in his chest. He had always been good at hiding from the world, but now, he felt exposed and vulnerable, stripped of the defenses he had built around himself.
He glanced back toward the door, his heart racing as he thought about the laughter and joy that awaited him inside. But more importantly, you were inside, and he was terrified of what that meant.
The sound of laughter drew his attention back to the door, and he caught a glimpse of you and Benjy, surrounded by a group of friends. Your smile was genuine, your laughter infectious, and the way you leaned into Benjy, it stung more than anything he could have imagined. He almost heaved when he saw you give him such a gentle and loving kiss.
“Just say it.” He whispered to himself, the words echoing in his mind. “Just tell her how you feel.”
But the words wouldn’t come. He had waited too long, and now it felt like it was too late. Could he even do that? Could he ruin your chances at a normal life? That was what he wanted, right? You to be happy? To not be plagued with what he was?
As the door swung shut behind James, sealing you away with a future he couldn’t be a part of, Remus felt a sense of finality settle over him. He couldn't face you. It was done. He had let you slip through his fingers, and now all he could do was watch as you moved on without him.
With a final glance at the door, he turned away from the party, the music fading into the background as he made his way down the steps and into the darkness. He could feel the weight of his heart, heavy with regret, but he knew he had to keep moving forward, even if it meant leaving you to travel down your own path. One that had nothing to do with him.
Somehow, he would have to learn to live with the choices he had made, the love he had thrown away. And somehow, he would have to learn to live with the fact that he had lost the one person who had meant everything to him.
As he walked away from the Potters’ home, he felt the cold night air wrap around him more then before, a stark reminder of the warmth he had just lost. And with each step, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was leaving a piece of himself behind- one he might never get back.
His heart always preferred you anyway.
208 notes · View notes
hoshieeyewrinkles · 9 months ago
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D o c t o r p a r k
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Pairing: Doctor! Jay x Bimbo! Reader
Genre: smut
W.c: 2.5k
| Requested | Not proofread |
Tw warning: extreme humiliation, heavy degradation, anal sex, spanking, fingering, shoe humping, umm reader is put into a wedgie, Jay fingered her belly button 😭, Filth.
"I'm feeling a bit dizzy, Mr. Kim," you lamented, trying to evoke a sense of concern from your professor, who simply looked at you with skepticism. "I'm a bit concerned Miss.Y/n because you haven't been feeling well for the past few weeks. Maybe you should take the day off and ask your friends for notes." Your professor suggested the idea, and you reluctantly agreed, secretly rolling your eyes. In reality, you didn't actually have any dizziness or headaches. You just wanted an excuse to escape class and visit the nurse's office in hopes of catching a glimpse of the incredibly attractive Doctor Park, also known as Doctor Jay.
You have been on his tail since the past weeks, wanting to get into his pants than anything else. Though your plans have gone unsuccessful as he merely shrugged you off crushing your hopes in an instant. He was extremely stern and focused on his work. The university you were studying in was a prestigious one with strict protocols hiring the best lecturers, the best staff and the hottest doctor.
He was everything you ever wanted. He was smart, young, well-built and probably had a big dick too given by his attitude. Oh how you wished to feel his strong arms around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold.
There you were once again, waiting for him to notice you, in his office. With his white coat dangling by his chair, he was glancing through his phone. His well-fitting black shirt revealed his biceps, and he had his hair pulled back, his trousers ironed and his leather shoes lightly tapping the floor. You wished the floor was you instead. You were relieved that his nurse had taken a lunch break, but you found her annoying because of her privilege to always be around doctor Jay.
"Oh Miss.Y/n you again?" He questioned blankly, though the 'again' seemed a little emphasised. "Yes, doctor Park, I am feeling a little unwell." You responded in a soft tone, your voice coming across as seductive, as you had intended. Jay raised an eyebrow and slightly shook his head, his gaze drawn to your choice of outfit. A white mini skirt paired with a baby blue tube top. You were dressed in very little as usual, and his gaze was drawn to your sparkling headband and red nails, which would look stunning wrapped around his fat cock. He was fully aware of your intentions, but he could not afford to give in to them just yet.
"Miss.Y/n, you have come here three times this week. You already have a prescription from me for headache medication. Despite the fact that you showed no symptoms, you previously claimed to have a fever. What symptoms do you have now? Would you mind informing me, hm?" He inquired in the most casual tone. His tone already has your pussy throbbing. He was overconfident and a stuck-up asshole in the sexiest way possible.
"I feel some pain here, doctor." You said that, and then you moved over to the hospital bed and laid down next to his chair without asking. With a silent exhale, he looked up at you. Your top was dropping to expose your cleavage, and your skirt was perilously riding up to expose your soft mid-thighs.
"Where does it hurt, Miss Y/n?" He questioned unfazed, despite the fact that his mind was racing. You pouted slightly at his unaffected demeanour, your pink glossy lips tempting him to bite them. He was annoyed by the way you fluttered your eyes at him, acting as if you knew nothing about anything. It made him so angry that he wanted to rip off your pathetic excuse for clothes and rail you to the end. The thoughts which went through his mind every time he saw you would have him fired from the university, have his licence suspended.
"Here..." You pointed directly at your crotch, expecting him to be either flustered or disgusted. To your surprise, he smirked. "I understand what you are doing, Y/n," he said, shaking his head and dropping the honorific. He did not let you respond when he spoke again. "I must say, it is funny."
"What do you mean, doctor?" You asked innocently, but your heart raced as you wondered what he was thinking. "Nothing, are you sure your litte princess parts doesn't hurt because of taking the whole football team?" He questioned and your jaw dropped. He let out a snort at your expression "What? Am I lying?" His smirk widens when your face starts to turn red, burning in humiliation.
"Does your skirt length correspond to your level of comprehension? You dirty vulgar girl" He asked again degrading you. "Doctor....that's really mean of you! You are slut-shaming and y-you are insulting me." In reply, you stumbled over your words. "I'm not slut shaming you y/n. I'm simply stating out facts which I have heard around and which you have showed around me, how is that offensive, sweetheart?" He questioned amused, his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your dumb expression. You were nothing but a dumb slut who could barely live her life without a cock. He noticed the way you rubbed your thighs together at the nickname he called you.
"The whole football team—hell, I do not even know their names, they did not sleep with me. Doctor Jay,how can you believe them?" You asked, your bottom lip quivering as you pouted at him. You were not so naive as to miss his taunts, but you were sick enough to take pleasure in the embarrassment he was causing you. Jay laughed because he thought you were cute and there were no rumours that you were sleeping with the whole football team. He made them up himself to see how smart you are, and you were clearly one of the dumbest girls he has ever met. Probably the sluttiest too.
Lucky for you, he loved sluts.
You did not have time to think when he lifted your skirt, revealing your drenched panties, which were stuck to your pussy lips. "I- Doctor Park, what the hell are you doing!" You yelled at him, attempting to push your skirt down, but he held it firmly between his fingers. "Stop pretending, baby; you have been doing this for weeks, trying to seduce me with your pathetic excuse of tops barely holding your saggy tits and these fucking skirts that keep getting shorter, coming to my office almost every day." He paused for a moment licking his lips at the sight of your soaked panties. "Did you enjoy the humiliation I put you through, y/n? it made your pussy throb, yeah?"
You let out a small moan and nodded desperately, letting your fake innocent demeanour slip as you grabbed his hand, which was holding the hem of your skirt and guiding it onto your cunt. "Please, Doctor Park, it hurts."
He chuckled in response, shaking his head slightly. "Well, as your doctor, I must investigate what is going on with you, princess." His eyes were filled with lust. He pushed his morality and principles to the back of his mind. Fuck, he needed your slutty pussy right now. It was the prettiest cunt he would ever see, and he was not going to pass up this opportunity to use you.
He removed his hand from your crotch and opened the drawer in front of him. You watched him with curiosity, desperate to get his fingers, mouth, and cock inside you right away. He shuffled through his belongings before reaching for a pair of white gloves and putting them on. Your eyes widened at his actions.
"Your little nasty pussy does not deserve to be touched by my bare hands." He spoke in a low deep voice earning a whine from you. "Fuck, look at those juices. You are such a shameless whore." You felt your insides twist at his tone change. He was such an unpredictable man with no filter, treating you in the most humiliating ways, which only made you want him more. You would let him do whatever he wanted with you. You were down bad for him.
Without any warning he inserted his gloved finger inside you, it went in so smoothly as you were completely drenched. "Are you enjoying this? How embarassing y/n, is this why you joined this university? To suck cocks? To have your little cunt pounded by everyone?" You didn't reply to any of his questions busy in pleasure be was giving you, letting out small whimpers. He added two more fingers, aggressively fingering you. The wet, gushing sounds filled the room: "Doctor Park... P-please. Want to feel your fingers." You begged, squirming around, getting closer to your high. He ignored your words and lifted your tube top above your stomach, exposing your belly button to him. "Would you like to be fucked there too?" He aggressively pushed his other hand's fingers inside your belly button. You give a squeak at the sensation, moaning like the whore you are.
Your cunt and belly button getting fingered by his thick fingers simultaneously, releasing waves of pleasures inside you. You were thrashing around uncontrollably, overcome with pleasure. "Calm down, slut. I'm just getting started. Turn around." He ordered and you complied feeling a bit disappointed that you didn't get to cum. "but I didn't..." He cut you off harshly after landing a slap on your pussy "Not everything is about you."
He stuck your underwear in a wedgie, and you winced at the burning sensation on your pussy lips. Without warning, he pulled the wedgie and snapped it back, causing you to let out a painful screech. "This is how dirty little girls like you deserve to be treated," he said before snapping the wedgie several more times. You thrashed around, biting your palm to muffle your voice. He eventually stopped his assault on your ass crack and removed your underwear. What further humiliated you was the way he held your underwear with just two fingers treating it like some dirty trash. "Put this drenched shit in your mouth so you'll keep your dumb mouth shut." He threw the underwear in your face, and you did as he said, shoving it inside your mouth. You could taste the sweetness of your juices inside your mouth.
You never knew being treated in such humiliating way would turn you on so much. "Fuck look at this ass" he grunted kneading the flesh in his gloved hands. His cock was about to burst through his trousers. He enjoyed treating you in this manner because that is what dumb little cock sluts like you deserve, constantly seducing people and putting their jobs in risk. You needed to be taught a lesson that would put you in your proper place.
He began spanking your ass harshly until you were numb, your moans muffled by your panties. "This. is. exactly what naughty girls like you deserve." He spat on your asshole making sure it's lubricated enough. "I have no intention of using your nasty pussy but this tight ass deserve to be pounded." He unbuckled his belt throwing it aside and letting his cock stand in all glory. You tried to turn back, to look at his cock but he smacked your ass again "Don't turn back. I don't wanna see your spit covered dirty face." He degraded you before lifting you by the stomach and placing you on your hands and knees.
He pushed his cock into your hole, letting out the most seductive moan that nearly made you cum. "Mhmm..." You let out a muffled moan, and despite the pain, you could not stop pushing back on his cock. He began to pound into you with great speed, his hips slamming into your bruised ass. The pain from the wedgie assault lingered, and him pushing his cock into your whole aggravated it.
"Messy dumb slut." He yanked your hair back, his hips moving with uncontrollable speed. "Fuck, this is what you wanted right? To be fucked by me? To be treated like nothing, you are truly shameful." His words kept pushing you to your edge. Jay bit his lip at your state, your plump ass looked so bruised. Your belly button was red from his assault. He felt all of his stress disappear as he fucked your ass. "Touch yourself for me, baby," he asked, and you began to rub your clit vigorously, feeling your high return, but before you could cum, he pulled out his cock and released himself over your ass. You took out the underwear from your mouth. "Doctor park, I couldn't cum." You whined, panting loudly. He didn't reply, taking his gloves out before disposing them into the trash can nearby.
"And? How is that my problem?" He asked cockily, sitting back in his chair, manspreading, his cock still out. "Doctor park that's not fair!" You yelled in frustration before crawling out of bed, landing on your knees. Jay bit his lip at your sight, you looked so desparate and filthy. "Suck my cock and make yourself cum, angel." He pushed his leather shoe on your clit. You immediately took his cock in your mouth slurping on it messy while grinding on his hoe. "You dirty insatiable girl!" He said chuckling at your messed up state pushing your mouth deeper onto his cock.
You were still grinding hard on his hoe, moaning on his cock and rubbing your covered breast against his leg. Lost in the blissful pleasure he was receiving from your sensual lips, he was letting out soft moans. You were truly like the wettest and the filthiest dream he ever had. You came on his shoe grinding like a whore and he pushed you back before spraying his cum on your top. You both took few minutes to catch your breath before he wore his pants back and glanced at your dumb state. "Get up." He gave the order, and you stumbled to your feet, drenched in sweat, saliva, and cum. "Pick your underwear and clean my shoe."
You obeyed his orders cleaning his shoe with your underwear "Wear them back." You were about to protest, but his one look stopped you, and you wore the dirty, completely drenched panties back. You felt so nasty yet so good. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back, running your hand through his styled hair, messing it up. He patted your ass, breaking off the kiss. "You can rest on the bed while I bring you something to eat." He said, and you felt the heat rush back into your face as you nodded shyly. You laid back on the bed watching him collect his things. "Remember don't remove the underwear till your day ends, it will be a reminder for you to know what happens to naughty pretentious girls like you."
His words made you whine and nod submissively, "Perhaps I will use your little pussy next time, princess."
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darby-rowe · 10 months ago
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— baby blue, bambi, & you.
academy!coriolanus snow x academy!sejanus plinth x academy!fem!reader
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18+ | nsfw | mdni word count 2.2k cw frotting, voyeurism, f. masturbation, m/m/f threesome, double penetration, dirty talk, swearing, light degradation, face slapping, cunnilingus, anilingus (f. receiving), spit play, p in v, anal, unprotected sex (please use protection), creampie (vaginal & anal), not proofread notes [cries while i throw this at yall] HERE JUST TAKE IT. TAKE IT AND LEAVE. im gonna be so honest and say that writing threesomes are so hard, so hopefully yall like this!!! loosely based off of this ask.
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You swore you were only gone for a little over ten minutes.
You quickly ran down the street to grab some snacks for the study session you were about to have with your friends Coriolanus and Sejanus. Just a couple of sweet and savory treats to nibble on as the three of you cram for finals. It was your fault for insisting the two boys stay back while you made your run because you were sure they would be a distraction. And you wanted to get down to studying as quickly as possible.
But now here you were, mouth agape like an idiot, staring through the crack in your door as you watched Coriolanus and Sejanus frotting their cocks together. In your own bed.
What the hell is someone supposed to do in this situation? You didn’t want to interrupt them because that would just be mortifying for all three of you. But if you let them keep going, who knew how long that would take? Were they planning on fully railing each other in your bed, completely unbeknownst to your shocked gaze? You still had the tote bag of snacks stupidly hanging off your shoulder. Maybe you should’ve jostled it around to make your presence known, give them time to collect themselves before you enter?
However, you didn’t do that. You didn’t do anything. You didn’t move a muscle. You just. Kept. Staring.
This was wrong. You knew it was wrong to spy on two people like this, watching as Coriolanus laid on his elbows while Sejanus sat on his knees, squeezing their hard cocks as he humped them back and forth. The way Coriolanus’s blonde curls fell into his blue eyes as he stared up at Sejanus with parted lips, panting ever so slightly and softly rubbing Sejanus’s forearm. Both boys had their pants and underwear pulled down just enough so their cocks could spring free (they must have been desperate to feel each other). From this angle, Sejanus looked as if he towered over Coriolanus, his build looking a lot stronger as he took control. Sweet melodic moans escaped Sejanus’s lips, and a couple of curses were heard beneath Coriolanus’s breath.
You had to squeeze your legs together as you quickly found yourself becoming more and more wet as you watched. You always found the two of them cute, and the prospect of dating either one of them wasn’t too far out of your reach. But at that moment you were plagued by even more questions. Were they dating each other without your knowledge? How come they never told you? Was this just one of those weird male obligation things? Like, “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine”? You never got men, and you surely were more confused now more than ever.
You slowly sat the tote bag down on the ground before slipping your hand underneath your skirt to rub at the growing wet spot on your panties. Now this was wrong, and you knew it, too. You felt as if you weren’t better than a common pervert spying on his neighbors through his window. Your mouth watered as your eyes trained on their cocks sliding against each other. You never knew they were both so… big. Coriolanus had more length while Sejanus was more thick. And for a split second, you wondered to yourself how they would both fit in your mouth.
The sheer thought of having both of their dicks in your mouth makes you rub yourself harder. You can almost even taste the saltiness of their skin right on your tongue. You end up closing your eyes for just a moment before looking back through the crack of your door, biting down hard on your lip to keep from making noise.
Coriolanus threw his head back and let out a moan that made your tummy do flips. It just made sense that such a pretty noise would come from a pretty boy. You dared to lean in further, to garner more of their conversation as you slipped your hand inside your panties to rub your clit more directly.
Sejanus was panting as he continued to hump above Coriolanus, occasionally letting out a curse or a small groan to vocalize his pleasure. “Feels good, yeah?” Sejanus mumbled, eliciting a small, “Fuck yeah,” from the blonde boy below him. You bit down harder on your lip.
“Gonna cum all over your cock,” Sejanus said under his breath, making Coriolanus mewl with excitement as he gripped at your bedsheets.
The blonde boy rocked his hips further into Sejanus’s grip. “Fuck yeah, cum all over me,” he growled through gritted teeth.
God, I want them to cum inside me, you thought.
You completely forgot about your moral dilemma from earlier. Everything about the scene unfolding right in front of your eyes was hot. So insanely fucking hot. It just made you rub at yourself faster and faster.
You wanted so badly to shove your fingers inside yourself and fuck your wet pussy as you watched the two boys frot their cocks together, but you knew the squelching would be loud enough to reach their ears. You had to settle for just teasing your clit, which was completely fine because you felt yourself already getting close to cumming.
The way Sejanus looked down at Coriolanus, talking to him with such filth as the blonde boy’s eyes filled with need — all of it was too much. Your thighs began to shake as the warmth in your lower abdomen began to unravel. You rubbed yourself more, and more, and more, until—
Your orgasm rocked your entire body, causing you to go a bit lightheaded and trip over your feet. In an effort to catch yourself, your hand desperately grabbed at your doorknob and you stumbled into your bedroom, completely exposing your perverted self to your friends. Your mouth and throat went dry, hand still down your skirt as you felt heat rise to your face and your blood go cold.
“Oh— oh, fuck,” you blurted out as the two boys stared at you. Coriolanus’s blue eyes seemed to pierce right through your very soul, and at that moment you were convinced you committed the most violating act of overstepping boundaries in your life. You quickly retracted your hand from beneath your skirt. “I am… I-I am so fucking sorry. I’m… I just—”
You really were a deer caught in headlights — caught in the headlights of Coriolanus’s and Sejanus’s gazes. However, Sejanus’s eyes were a bit softer than what you were expecting. And you also noticed how they didn’t scramble to get their clothes back on. Your eyes squinted. What was going on?
It wasn’t until Sejanus chuckled breathlessly at you and extended out a hand, waving you over towards the bed. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he assured. “C’mere, join us,”
You had to take a moment to process his words, but it wasn’t long before you quickly ripped off your cardigan and took Sejanus’s hand. His strong arm pulled you in for a deep, sloppy kiss as you crawled onto your bed, swiftly getting pushed down towards Coriolanus. You straddled the blonde boy’s waist as you leaned down to kiss him as well, lightly gasping as you felt the brown-haired boy flip up your maxi skirt and pull down your panties.
“God, you were really wet watching us, huh?” Sejanus teased from behind you, causing your face to heat up even more. You were about to defend yourself until you felt Sej’s warm tongue lick a stripe from your clit all the way up, up, up to your asshole. You shivered and let out a small whimper, eliciting a chuckle from Coryo.
“You were touching yourself, weren’t you?” Coryo teased, gently caressing your heated face with his cold hands. He let his thumb trace over your bottom lip and you gladly parted your lips to let him inside your mouth. “Such a naughty girl,”
You flinched a bit as you felt Sejanus spit onto your asshole, slowly pressing his finger inside you, eliciting a low groan from your throat. “How would you feel if we fucked both your holes, hm? Gonna spy on us and not expect to get the full treatment?”
You had to admit: Sejanus’s words shocked you. Everything was moving so fast. One moment you were out buying meaningless snacks to study and now you were about to have two out of three of your holes stuffed at the same time. You could barely even get any words out, only incoherent groans and whimpers.
You batted your eyelashes down at Coriolanus, who promptly smirked cheekily up at you and lightly slapped your cheek a couple of times. “Haven’t said a single word, yet,” he taunted. “C’mon, you dirty little pervert — do you want both our cocks inside you?”
The heat in your cheeks never left you, and when you didn’t respond for a few seconds, you gasped and yelped as you felt a sudden smack on your ass from Sejanus.
“Use your words, pretty girl,” Sejanus said, lightly rubbing his warm hand on the place of impact, making you softly whimper as words tried to escape your throat.
And Sejanus made speaking even more difficult as you felt him slowly begin to rub his rock hard cock in between your ass, making the words catch in your throat once more. Coriolanus gripped your face and forced you to look down at him, making you gasp.
“I asked you a fucking question, pervert,” The blonde boy snarled, earning you another slap on the cheek. “You’re a big girl, yeah? So answer us,”
“Yes!” You cried before the two boys could continue. “Please, god, just fuck me. Fuck me, please,”
“Aww,” Coriolanus mocked. “She speaks, Sejanus. Do you think we should give this perverted slut what she wants?”
You felt a soothing hand splay on your back. “Don’t be mean to her, Coryo,” Sejanus cooed, retracting his cock from between your ass to position at your entrance. “We can’t have her all worked up when I’m trying to — god — shove my cock in her ass,”
You grunted and threw your head back as you felt Sejanus’s thick cock slowly enter your ass, fisting hard at your bedsheets as you withstood the sharp sting. Even though Coriolanus could be a brat at times, the boy still had the heart to kiss you through the pain.
And soon enough, Sejanus’s cock was all the way inside you, and breathing deeply to regulate yourself, Coriolanus pushed inside your pussy with ease. The sound of both boys being enveloped by your tight holes had your head spinning, and slowly, you felt the two of them begin to fuck themselves inside you.
“Fuck…!” You cried, feeling Sejanus’s hand soothingly rub your back as he thrusted his dick in and out of your tight ass. The sweet, sweet sound of Sejanus relishing in how tight you are, his groans of pleasure, his warm hands on your back and hips — it made your mind hazy, growing more and more drunk on their cocks.
“Can’t… can’t take it… ‘s too much…” You mumbled, earning a condescending giggle from Coriolanus, who took it upon himself to wrap his arms around your waist and start fucking upwards into your squelching pussy.
If it was possible, your fingers dug deeper into your bedsheets as you let out strained cries and moans of pure ecstasy as you felt so incredibly full.
“Such a naughty little girl,” Coriolanus teased, his breath catching from the amount of energy he was exerting from fucking up into you.
“So fuckin’ tight,” Sejanus added, his moans melodically mixing with yours, creating a symphonic cacophony of ecstasy. You had no idea what to do with your body, trading sloppy lazy kisses with Coriolanus periodically, body jolting whenever Sejanus smacked your ass.
It wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm already drawing close, feeling like your body was going to explode with the mixture of sensations happening inside you. Your nerves felt so hot that you thought you were about to explode into flames, getting fucked so hard and good by your two hot classmates. Your mind felt dumb, blank, too hazy to even think.
“I can feel your pussy about to cum,” Coriolanus said from beneath you. “C’mon, cum on our cocks. Yeah, that’s right, you naughty girl,”
Your body began trembling uncontrollably, and with a sob and a cry, the coiling within your lower stomach came undone. You felt your pussy gush out your juices with each pulse of your orgasm, the sheer power of it all making you nearly collapse onto Coriolanus’s body who continued to hold you through your high.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum in your ass,” Sejanus mumbled, immediately followed by a pretty groan as he released himself within you. Coriolanus followed suit, cumming so hard and deep within your pussy that you swore you felt his seed enter straight into your womb.
You laid there panting, spent, filled with cum like the whore you secretly wanted to be as the two boys soothed your used body with their hands. You wanted to speak up, to say anything about what just transpired between the three of you, to ask what your relationship was going to be moving forward. But you could only muster to say one thing.
“I think…” you panted, swallowing hard. “I think we should get to studying now…”
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darby-rowe, 2024. do not plagiarize my content, nor distribute my content onto any other website like AO3, etc. my writing is exclusive to tumblr only.
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ohbo-ohno · 11 months ago
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merry christmas @luminousbeings-crudematter, here's the ghoap x reader purge au! (a week and a half after you posted about it... im so sorry)
5.7k, mind the tags <3
cw: ROUGH NONCONSENUAL SEX in all caps, pwp, under-prepared/painful anal sex, some pretty intense fear stuff, people covered in blood and referenced violence (it's a purge au lol)
Your hands tremble where they’re tucked close to your chest, blood sticky and thick between each finger. You feel coated in it, like someone has taken a brush and gone over every inch of your skin, painted you in red.
It’s in your mouth. You can feel the warmth of it on your tongue, the taste of iron sickening. You tell yourself that maybe you bit your tongue, that it’s not really your ex Phil’s blood coating your teeth.
Your thin pajamas are hardly any protection against the chill of the night air, less so with how soaked they are. The stench of piss is heavy in the air, a mixture of yours and his, but you don’t have time to go back inside and change.
You’re running on pure instinct, an animal urge deep in your mind insisting you run. You’d always thought you’d have more of a flight instinct than fight. Despite how you feel now, how your legs itch to carry you as far away as possible, the cooling corpse left behind tells you the truth. 
You stumble into the wall, a wave of nausea knocking you off balance. There’s a trail of red left behind as you use one hand to balance yourself, the other held protectively over your heart. 
Your security system - cheap, but usually enough to let you sleep through the Purge - is completely destroyed. There’s no chance of it protecting you, and the bust in windows will let anyone on the streets see your vulnerability. You’ll never feel safe there, and you can’t shake the need to run.
There’s no chance of any of your neighbors helping you. There’s some neighborly camaraderie between your floor-mates, but that all disappears on Purge night. It’s every man for himself, every year, without fail. You know that. You even think the same as them, pretend no one else exists when that siren goes off every year. 
But now, shaking and terrified, you wish you could knock on a door and see it open. Hear the security system disengage and see a familiar face, beg for help and thank them on your knees.
It’s a nice fantasy. Reality is less kind, seeing you shake with a dawning chill as you manage to shoulder open the door to the stairwell, cringing when it slams behind you.
The cold cement is rough on your feet, and a distant part of yourself worries about slipping - your feet are slick with blood, and you can hear yourself leaving a trail of footsteps. You don’t try to slow down, holding tight to the metal railing and shuffling down the stairs.
You’re halfway down the first of four flights when the door on the next floor opens, a large figure stepping into the stairwell. Your stumble to a stop before you even register that you’re not alone anymore, and you’re backpedaling before you even fully realize.
He’s big, his face covered in a red skull mask. From your vantage point you can see his hair is shaved into a mohawk, and he’s shirtless with only a pair of gray sweatpants on.
He’s drenched in blood. Even more than you, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. If you’re painted in blood, someone took a bucket and dumped it on this man. You can hardly see any unmarked skin, and you wonder for a split-second if the skull was once white.
There’s an audible grin in his voice when he calls up to you. “Look’it you, bonnie thing. You tryin’ to run?” He steps to the side, leaving a wide open space for you to pass him to the next staircase. You’re frozen where you’re leant against the railing, hardly able to breathe. “C’mon, give it a shot.” 
You listen, scrabbling further back and all but throwing yourself up the stairs on all fours. You’re only the need to get away, an innate fear that tells you to get as far from the blood-soaked man as quickly as possible. You swear you hear him laugh as you launch yourself up the next flight, panting already.
There’s no safety found in going up though, as hardly two flights later you’re tugged to a stop by your instincts alone.
Standing above you, hardly six feet away and blocking the door he must’ve just come from, is another giant. This one fully clothed and with a white skull mask, somehow bigger and more intimidating than the man you can hear coming up the stairs behind you. You can’t see even an inch of skin, black gloves on his hands and mean black combat boots reaching nearly his knees.
There’s a moment, before the chase ends, where you contemplate jumping over the railing. There’s no going up, there’s no going back, and you can’t even begin to imagine what these two men want with you. The only thing that keeps you from throwing yourself over is the fear that you wouldn’t die on impact, that you’d be left injured and even more vulnerable to these men.
You’re not sure you could’ve tried that plan had you even wanted to, because the moment it forms fully in your mind a pair of thick arms wraps around you, and a heavy weight forces you to the ground.
You cry out at the sudden shove, palms scraped raw against the cement. The man behind you covers your body completely - his knees bracket yours, his hands rest on either side of your head, and there’s no part of the back of you that isn’t cloaked in him.
He doesn’t say anything as he ruts against you, the blood from his chest soaking through your tank top and making you cringe further away. You can’t stop the quiet stream of whimpers as you try to shrink into the stairs, try to get away from the beast behind you. He doesn’t care, only drops more of his weight onto you and pantomines fucking you.
You can feel the outline of his cock through his pants, as thin as the clothes both of you are wearing are. If you weren’t wearing your shorts, if he tugged the waistband of his pants down, he’d be inside of you.
The thought makes you tear up, makes you want to slam your head back and try to knee him in the balls, makes you want to fight.
But all your fight is gone. It died with Phil and your security system, and you’re left only with a weight in your bones that makes you wish you could sink through the floor. 
The hard plastic of the skull mask presses to the sensitive skin of your cheek, biting into the fat there. You can see the gleam of bright blue eyes in the sockets, the creases at the edges that tell you he’s smiling.
“You gonna fuck her here for the first time?” The white skull asks, voice deep enough that you hardly register the words. Your eyes are jerked to his form and it makes you shiver to see him sitting on the top of the staircase you’re pinned to, legs spread wide as he stares down at you with a cigarette between lips exposed by the tilted mask. You feel like a sacrifice, thrown to the stairs of a temple for a god.
“Can I?” The man over your shoulder pants, accent roughened from his own movements. You can’t tell if the wetness between your thighs is piss, blood, or an even worse option. You bite your tongue to hold back a whine, wince at the burst of iron in your mouth.
The man above you tilts his head, smoking blown into the air. “You fuck her here, you won’t get to go again on the roof. Don’t need you gettin’ spoiled.”
Your nails dig into the concrete, folding beneath the pressure as you shake beneath the red skulled man. He whines over you, like a petulant kid being told no for the first time, but goes still against you. That alone has you blinking open damp eyelashes, watching him from the corner of your eyes.
“Alright, I’ll wait,” he pants, chin resting on your soldier. “Give ye some time to get ready, huh lass? It’ll be easier for ye then. Just think about what we’ll do to ye, how good it’ll feel to get properly fucked, yeah?”
You sob when he grinds one final time against you, your hips pushed into the harsh edge of the stairs. 
He’s dragging you up after that, hardly letting either of you stand fully before shoving you up the stairs. You can’t catch your balance and let out a small cry as you fall back to your knees, mouth twisting in pain at the unforgiving surface against your naked knees.
You flinch when a gloved hand grasps your chin, tugging up until you’re forced to look towards the white skull above you.
You’ve landed between his feet, a boot on either side of your body, and if you’d moved forward even another half foot, you’d have face planted into his lap. 
Your heart skips a beat when you realize you’re making eye contact with him. The dark brown of his pupils blends almost seamlessly with what must be black paint smeared around his eye sockets, and the only reason you even realize you’re locked in a staring contest is the way the light reflects off the whites of his eyes.
You don’t have time to try and move away from him on your own (or, more accurately, to throw yourself backwards and pray you didn’t break something falling down the stairs) before a pair of bare hands are shoving you up from beneath the armpits, making you almost squeal as you jerk in the direction you’re forced.
“Up, c’mon,” red skull grunts, hands flitting from one part of your exposed skin to the next as he herds you upstairs. “Need to get inside ye, kitty, fuckin’ walk.”
You sob as you stumble up the stairs, the top of your foot scraping painfully against the concrete. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see White stand to follow you two, but you’re nearly sent sprawling again when Red only shoves you all the more harshly.
“Pl-please,” you manage to gasp, shoulder roughly bouncing off the wall. A glance up tells you you’re two full flights away from the rooftop. “Please, I don’t know what you want, b-but…” You can hardly talk around the sobs floating in your throat, choking you. “Please, please don’t hurt me.”
Red groans as he tugs you nearly off balance, the sound echoing off the walls and full of what you can only describe as hunger.
“Fuck, haven’t even gotten ye naked yet ‘n yer already beggin. Knew ye’d be perfect for us.”
You can hardly see through the tears in your eyes, the rest of the trip up to the roof all gray with streaks of red and black. You can’t focus enough to try and get away again, can’t get enough of your panic under control to fucking think.
The red skull catches you when you almost go careening over the rails, one broad hand catching you by the chest and gripping.
He groans, you flinch. “Fuck, cannae wait to get my mouth on these.” He pinches with his whole hand, your breast going sharp with pain on every fingertip. You whine, flinching further against his chest and trying to shrink away.
“Keep movin’, Soap.”
“Aye,” Red - Soap - pants, and you can practically hear the saliva gathered in his mouth when he swallows. “C’mon, kitty, only a little further.”
The blood on your hands has dried by the time White is shouldering open the door to the roof, your hands itching and the red flaking away every time your fingers twitch. The night air is a cold shock, just jarring enough to tug some reason back into your brain.
Soap doesn’t stop his herding until you’re far enough from the door for his partner to block it with an old metal chair, the back tucked under the door handle. You tuck your hands beneath your arms, shoulders curled in in an attempt to preserve warmth.
You wouldn’t have expected the night to be so cold. Half of the street is burning - flames painting the sky, giving you the exact opposite impression of the biting chill you feel. There are dozens of people in the streets, carrying guns and axes and chainsaws and all sorts of other weapons you can’t see. You feel bile rise in your throat when you realize the dark pools reflecting flames in the street are blood, not water.
“Fuckin’ finally,” Soap grumbles, and you don’t have any time to think before his mouth is pressed forcefully against yours, tongue shoving at your lips.
Your eyes are wide open, unlike his, and you make a shocked sound high in your throat at the sight of his maskless face. You can’t really see what he looks like with the way he’s pressed against you, but it’s a shock nonetheless.
You keep your lips pressed tightly together, no matter how much his tongue prods and tries to force its way into your mouth. You feel more than hear him laugh against you after a few long seconds, and one of his massive paws comes up to cradle your jaw pointer finger against your temple and thumb under your chin.
He stops trying to force himself between your lips after almost a minute, instead shifting to just… licking your lips. His tongue paints wide across your mouth, soaking you in his saliva. He’s almost scarily determined in the way he accosts you, his grip tight on your face as his other hand shifts to bruise your hip, covering what feels like the entire bottom-half of your face in his spit. You can’t help but grimace, trying to pull away from him, but he’s pressed too close.
“Can’t fuckin’ wait to be in ye,” he pants, breath warm and wet against your cheeks. “I know yer gonna squeeze me just right, bonnie, can tell already.”
“Please,” you say, voice weak. “Please, don’t, I don’t want you to-”
His groan is guttural. “Ye wanna know a secret, bonnie?” His voice is quiet between the two of you, bright blue eyes boring deep into yours when he pulls back. To your endless frustration, he’s handsome.
He leans close, whispering so low that you almost have to strain to hear hum. “That’s what makes you fun. Wouldnae be draggin’ you up here if ye wanted it, could get you any other night of the year for that. But it’s Purge night, lass… so you go ahead and fight as much as ye want, yeah? Just makes it more fun for me.”
You can’t help but sob at that, fat tears streaming down your face as he maneuvers you. You feel disconnected from your body as he forces you down to the ground, your soft belly left exposed when he pushes up your tank-top to cup one of your breasts, a whimper crawling out of your throat at the way the gravel presses into you.
You feel his breathing grow heavier as his hands move down to your shorts, shoving them off your hips and leaving them loose around your calves, completely disregarding your pitiful attempts at crawling away.
“Poor thing, been stuck in these the whole time? They fuckin’ reek, bonnie, no offense. That his piss or yours?”
You shake your head against the ground, face twisted up in acute humiliation. For some stupid reason you don’t want to even begin exploring, you find it necessary to whisper, “H-his.”
Soap hums, and you curse yourself inwardly when the humiliation is slightly alleviated.
“Get ‘em off her,” the white mask says, and you can’t help but jump at the sound of his voice. He’s sat on a large box only a few feet away, leaning back and relaxing, looking for all the world like he’s settled in for his favorite show. “Don’t want anythin’ of his touching her now.”
The sound Soap makes at that is animalistic, a snarl coming from deep in his chest that makes you flinch as he all but tears the shorts from your body. You wince at the wet splat of them landing several feet away.
You force your forehead into the gravel when your knees are forced wide, a rough hand and another pair of knees spreading you.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…” you can’t help but beg, voice trembling. “Please- god, please don’t-”
“Fuck,” he moans over your shoulder. “Yeah, keep goin’, lass.”
You sob at the feeling of warm skin against your bared behind, his thick length slotting itself smoothly between the slightly spread lips of your pussy. Your eyes squeeze shut and it takes all your willpower not to keep begging.
He slides himself back and forth against you for a few long breaths, using online the slight slickness from a mixture of piss and blood to get some friction. But to your immense horror, it only takes a few moments for the sensual movement against your clit to have your body preparing itself.
The slight wetness at your hole might be a betrayal, but it’s not nearly enough to ease the way when he pushes inside of you with no warning.
You nearly scream, a high sound of pure panic and pain when it feels like you’re being split in two. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear someone laugh. Right above you, Soap groans.
He’s buried himself to the hilt inside you before the pain has had any time at all to fade, and he’s fucking into you hardly a second after that.
Every thrust forces a grunt from your throat, the entire weight of him slammed into your back each time his balls smack against your clit. Your face is twisted up in a grimace, your whole body racked with pain that your assaulter couldn’t care less about.
“Fuck, kitty. Yer squeezin’ me so good, such a good girl, shit-! Knew you’d be ti-tight as a vice, fuck, but didn’t know you’d be squeezin’ me so tight I can hardly move.”
Your whine is plaintive, his moan is filled with pleasure.
“Yer gettin’ so wet for me, bonnie. Ye like this, huh? Bet you like it just as much as I do, gettin’ thrown around and takin’ advantage of. That it, kitty? Ye like being forced?”
You sob and shake your head against the ground, crying all the more when sharp pebbles dig into your cheeks.
“Naw, I think ye do. Why else’d you be- fuck, squeezin’ me like that?” 
“Cause- because-” you try, but you can’t get the breath in to get more than a single word out.
“Huh? Cause- cause-?” Soap mocks, his voice pitching up to mimic you as he plants himself deep inside you, grinding his hips against the meat of your ass. “C’mon, kitty, tell me why. Go on.”
“Cause I want you to stop!” You cry, balled up fist slamming into the gravel. You can’t help but whine ow when the sharp rocks poke into your skin, and Soap’s laugh shakes your entire body.
“Good,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “Squirm all ye want, lass. I love it when you fight.”
You can do nothing but go limp beneath him as he begins fucking you again, his pace somehow faster and even more relentless. It’s a small mercy that there’s no fight left in you, that you can’t give him any more pleasure. 
It certainly doesn’t stop him, though. Despite the fact that you’re doing your best impression of a dead fish, Soap pants and moans against your shoulder like you’re the single best thing he’s ever slept with. His cock is painfully hard inside of you, and his pace never once slows.
He’s loud when he finally comes, the sound of his orgasm clear enough that you know he’s thrown his head back to the sky. You can only whimper as he rolls his hips against you, working the last spurts of cum out of his cock and into your unwilling body. 
“Fuck,” he sighs in your ear, sounding far more satisfied than he has any right to. “Good girl, kitty. You were perfect.”
You sniffle beneath him when he slowly pulls out, both of you groaning at the sensation. He gives you an almost perfunctory pat on the ass, and stands to walk away. You manage to open your eyes and focus just in time to see him slide to the ground in front of his partner, leaning against the wall.
“Yer turn,” he sighs. “Warmed her up good for you, Lt.”
Despite the hatred boiling in your gut, you can do nothing but lay limp on the ground and watch as his partner stands, cracking his neck and moving towards your prone form. 
You want to run, you want to fight, but you can only watch the executioner come closer and wait for the metaphorical axe to fall.
He crouches by your head first, grasping your chin and pulling up until your torso tries to follow to alleviate the tension. He stares deep into your eyes for a long moment, and you find that it’s impossible to even tell where his pupils are with no real lighting. You feel like you’re truly looking into the empty eye sockets of a skull, no man and no mercy to be found.
“You’ll call me Ghost when I fuck you,” he rumbles, thumb stroking over the scrapes on your cheek. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply hauls you up by the shoulder and turns you onto your back. 
He’s rough with your limbs as he shoves your legs together and up, his forearm banding across the backs of both of your knees and holding them to your chest. You whimper and wiggles as best you can, but the bruising blow against your thigh is enough to have you gasping and stilling.
“Don’t fight,” he warns, and you feel his gloved fingers running up the crack of you. “You’re hurtin’ enough as it is, and I’m not gonna help. You wanna make it worse too?”
You shake your head, unsure if he can even see you through your legs. He doesn’t respond, and hums when he swipes two fingers through the liquid gathered between your lips.
You whine when those fingers move further down, a fresh panic creeping in when he presses around your back hole.
“You should be glad Soap fucked you so good,” Ghost drawls. “He gave you all the lube you’re gonna get.”
You feel like an animal when you whine again, unsure of how to even begin trying to speak. You yelp when a thick finger slides into your hole, completely disregarding any resistance and forcing its way in until it’s buried to the knuckle. Your cries go ignored.
“Quit squirmin’,” Ghost scolds, pulling his finger out to smack your ass before shoving two back in. “You’re fine.”
You’re not, you’re terrified and hurting and upset, but none of those things matter when Ghost only coaxes more of your slick and Soap’s spend to your unused whole so there’s less resistance. 
The only blessing you have is the fact that you can’t see more than the outline of Ghost’s figure with the way he’s got you positioned. You try your best to close your eyes and float into disassociation, and while you can’t fully manage it, the fact that you can’t see his face - his mask - helps you distance yourself from what’s happening.
The moment you realize this is of course the moment it stops being true. 
He seems to decide you’re ready after scissoring three fingers inside of you, hefting himself up so that he looms more fully over you. You can only whine as you feel the movements of him unbuckling his belt, feel the weight of him slap against your slightly spread cheeks.
Fresh tears fall past your lashes as you stare up into the fathomless darkness that are Ghost’s eyes. There’s nothing there, just a cold empty skull prepared to ruin you.
You don’t even have the energy to beg.
The stretch of him inside your ass is five times worse than Soap was. There’s no natural lubrication, and nowhere near enough synthetic lube either. Your hole feels like it’s on fire, the stretch white hot as he gives you no mercy.
You’re not even fully sure what you’re babbling as he slowly sinks to the root, only aware of the pain and fear and panic sitting heavy in your heart. You fear you’ll choke on your tears, head jerking back and forth.
He sighs when he bottoms out, heavy barrel chest forcing your knees past your shoulders. Your hips strain, just another pain from the endless abuse.
“There,” he grunts, patting your thigh when you go limp from it all. “Stay nice and still now, just need a place to dump my cum.”
Upsettingly enough, that hurts. The idea that you could mean nothing to this man is somehow worse than the thought of him having some other twisted feelings for you, your hormone-addled mind deeply insulted. 
His thrusts are long and slow, each one pulling nearly completely out before slamming back in. The sound of your skin slapping together is embarrassingly sexual, and a distant part of you is aware enough to pray that no one nearby had heard your screams and cries.
Ghost is near silent as he fucks you, the opposite of Soap. You can only hear the occasional grunt when you squeeze him because he’s inches away from your face - you can even feel the occasional gusts of breath when his hips start working a little faster. 
There’s nothing you can do but lay limply beneath him and take it, just a vehicle for his pleasure. You almost manage to float away, to pretend none of this is happening or has ever happened, when his free hand moves from your thigh to the top of your cunt.
You nearly squeal when he rubs your clit, the smooth leath gliding over your slick bud. Your eyes fly wide open, back arching as much as you can with three hundred pounds of man holding you down. The loud laugh from several feet away only makes you writhe more.
“Make her squirt, Lt!” Soap shouts, his voice carefree.
“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost grunts, voice roughened with pleasure. You don’t even have time to focus on the fact that he’s just told you Johnny’s name, far too preoccupied with the tidal wave of pleasure rushing towards you.
You have no idea why it happens. You’re never quick to come - almost every single partner of yours has complained about you taking so long to get off, it’s been an Issue in several relationships. 
So it makes absolutely no sense that after hardly a minute of rough circles against your clit, you’re clenching down on the cock in your ass and moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you.
The natural clench of your body only makes the pain worse, a sharp spike of it running up your cunt and making your moan shift into more pained sounds. Ghost only moans in tandem above you, his thrusts becoming slightly less even as he lets your orgasm coax out his own.
You sob when you feel his cum paint your insides.
Unlike Johnny, Ghost doesn’t pull out after he comes. He lets your legs fall limp on either side of him, just barely managing to catch them for you before you slam your ankles to the ground. He leans his torso over yours, elbows resting on either side of your shoulders while you do nothing but wait beneath him.
He’s sweat off some of the makeup. This close, you can see hints of pale skin in the sockets of the mask. There’s nothing to read in his eyes, but that flash of skin tells you he’s still a man.
You swallow, trying to work moisture back into your dry mouth, and whisper, “Will… will you let me go now?”
You know it’s more likely he’ll kill you. It’s what you can only imagine happened to all those bodies in the streets, what you know happens to tens of thousands of women every year. 
So it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t answer you verbally, instead covering your mouth with his palm and pinching your nose shut with his fingers. 
Your eyes flutter shut after a moment, lungs tightening already, and all you can hope is that suffocation is a quick death.
———————————————————————
You wake, gasping, in a dark room. 
You’re lurching forward before you’re even fully aware that you’re awake, coughing loudly and gasping when it feels like your throat is bleeding.
“Oh, poor thing,” you hear a familiar accented voice coo, and a moment later there’s a warm hand patting your back. “Yer alright, deep breaths.”
You jerk back from Soap - Johnny - as soon as your coughing is under control, scrambling back on your palms and staring at him with wide eyes. He only grins at you, looking for all the world like any other normal man in his sweater and sweatpants.
He got changed at some point - these pants are clean. He’s not wearing his mask either, and you’re struck dumb by how non threatening he manages to look.
He also changed your clothes - or Ghost did, maybe. You try to cover your chest with one hand, but there’s no hiding the fact that you’re completely naked. 
Johnny only laughs at your attempted modesty. “Been starin’ at them for hours, lass. Ye’ve got nothin’ to hide.”
That’s… horrifying, and does absolutely nothing to calm you down.
It’s then that Ghost rises from a chair, stepping forward and making you aware of his presence. “Calm down, Johnny. We don’t want her panickin’ this early.”
Soap fully pouts, tilting his head at you before glancing up at his partner. “I haven’t even done anythin’, Ghost. Was just sayin’ hi, tha’s all.”
Ghost snorts, gripping Johnny’s mohawk and tugging back until the other man sprawls back on his ass. “You know how you are, pup. Give your kitty some space.”
Johnny listens, crossing one leg beneath him and bending the other close to his chest, looking casual as can be. Meanwhile your heartbeat only gets faster, and you wince when you happen to lean too far one direction and feel a throbbing reminder of what these men did to you.
Ghost steps forward again, crouching just out of arm's reach. You realize he’s not wearing the same skull mask as before, but a balaclava with a printed skull pattern instead. His eye sockets are unpainted, and you’re shocked by how such little things make him look so much more human. 
“You can calm down. Long as you behave, nothin’ much worse’ll happen to you.”
You find yourself almost comically not-comforted by that, and can do nothing more than stare at him with wide eyes. 
“Where…” Your voice cracks, so you swallow and start again. “Where am I?”
It’s Johnny who speaks up. “Our place. We finally brought ye home with us, kitty.”
The world feels like it’s slowed around you, and your eyes drag from one kidnapper to the other. You have to swallow again to work any moisture into your bone-dry mouth.
“Is the Purge over?”
The creases at the corner of Ghost’s eyes are painfully obvious with how pale his skin is, and you shudder at the thought of him smiling.
“Been over for… what, five hours now? Somethin’ like that.”
You can’t fight the tremble in your voice now. “Then… then you have to let me go.”
Ghost’s head tilts, the creases get deeper. “Do I?”
You nod with as much conviction as you can - which is almost none. “You can’t keep me here. You’re breaking the law.”
Ghost leans closer on the balls of feet and you lean further back, your spine pressing into the wall behind you. “Are we now? And who do you think will stop us, pet?”
“The- the police. Someone will report me missing, they’ll come looking.”
“Oh? And you think they’ll come here?”
You nod as best you can, and jump when Ghost laughs. It’s low and quiet, only a few beats, but it’s like gasoline thrown on the small fire of panic in your mind.
“You have no idea where you even are, and you think they’ll find you? I hate to break it to you doll, but you’ll be lucky if they look for you for a week. You have any idea how many people go missin’ after the Purge?”
Your breath is quickening. “So that’s it? You’re just going to… going to keep me here, forever? What are you even going to do?”
His laugh is sharper, meaner this time. “We’re gonna do a whole lot more of what we did last night, pet. Keep you as a little cocksleeve, a pretty thing tucked in the basement just for our entertainment. Ain’t that right, Johnny?”
You manage to tear your eyes away to look at Soap and see that he’s nearly salivating, having inched closer and closer and shifted so he’s knelt behind Ghost. There’s a feral spark in his eyes that has every hair on your body standing straight up.
“Yeah, tha’s right. Don’t worry, lass, we’ll make sure yer never lonely. Might even stay the night with you, cuddle up in the winter. Bet ye could keep our cocks nice and toasty in the cold, huh? Gonna let us use ye as a little heater?”
“A heater, a mattress, a fleshlight… your future’s lookin’ bright, sweetheart,” Ghost drawls, mockery dripping heavily from the cruel words.
Your eyes dart back and forth between the two men and their predatory stares, your heart racing against your ribcage.
It’s not a conscious choice for you to launch yourself towards them, reaching out and clawing your sharp nails down Soap’s face with a feral scream that tears your throat to shreds. 
Even as Ghost throws you off and forces you to the ground, you vow to fight these men to the end. You’ll kill them both if you have to, leave them dead and wander however many miles it is back to your apartment.
Ghost only laughs when you shout this in his face, and you scream as you lunge forward, just managing to catch his masked chin between your teeth and bite.
With your fight instinct back in full force, you’re ready to make their lives hell.
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dreamauri · 4 months ago
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♪ — 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 - chapter one mafia! charles leclerc x fem! reader ( fluff ) series summary . . . after preparing your whole life to be married off to a mafia boss, you now have the difficult task of figuring out your new marriage and life, ensuring they don't turn out to be miserable.
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chapter one summary . . . it's hard to process as the day goes by and you cant snap yourself out of your thoughts. it has happened but it has not yet registered, and as charles holds your hand, you can't help but let your mind wander on what comes next. (448 words) content warning . . . ( contains smut, 18+ mdni; pnv, vanilla mostly, over stim if you squint, inexperienced/virgin! reader )
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The croaking in the night gave you a sense of comfort. Leaning your arms on the balcony railing, you watched the trees sway in the cool wind. The high moon provided enough light to see the wide garden below, on which you plan to add more colour and atmosphere.
There are many things for you to figure out in the morning, the most important being getting this chaotic villa in order and mapping out the neighbourhood to find the pond where all the frogs are probably residing.
You’ll, of course, have to figure out your new responsibilities as well. As the wife of Charles Leclerc and the co-leader of the Monégasque underworld, many duties are waiting for you.
The most important of which is probably making sure that Charles didn't drive himself nuts; helping him save some sanity for family time and personal duties that come with being a mortal human.
Speaking of Charles. You heard the door of the ensuite bathroom click open. Glancing through the corner of your eye without turning fully you could see the red towel wrapped around his waist, his body shining with just a bit of the water that hasn't dried yet.
You looked back in front of you when he noticed you looking down to stubbly study him. You could hear his footsteps near and the towel brushing against his skin. He was probably drying himself.
"You'll get a cold," He muttered leaning on the railing beside you. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from mumbling a comment about him being more naked than you. And just as gently as he has been with you all day, Charles puts the red towel on your wet hair.
You turned your head, staring deep into his green eyes— a beautiful colour you could never understand. You stayed still, watching as he stood up straight to gently ruffle your hair dry with the towel using both his hands.
Your eyes fluttered shut from a stray strand which Charles quickly brushed away moving to stand behind you to take care of your hair. When you open your eyes again you see that the moon had set. It left the sky and neighbourhood dark in its wake.
You don't know where it had gone off to, but that allowed the stars to shine. And for their beauty, you admired. The Grandfather clock downstairs chimed. It was loud you could hear it from here. The old jingle and melody always scared you as a child, especially at night. You never knew you still had that fear.
Charles had noticed your jolt when the chime played. He gently moved your hair off your shoulder placing a kiss to the back of your neck.
Ding, the clock chanted loudly through the empty house, providing you with ever comfort.
You sucked in a breath when you felt the warm muscular hands wrap around your waist.
Two chimes.
The Monegasque's fingers found the string to the string to the silk robe you'd pulled from his closet. It was red. You couldn't understand his obsession with the colour.
Three chimes.
Breathing in and closing your eyes, you felt Charles peer off your shoulders, his fingers delicately pulling the messy bow untied.
The fourth and fifth rings followed as Charles trailed his hands up your shoulders, burying his face in your hair and breathing in. And if you could plead to the stars. Plead that what comes next is as beautiful as they say. Plead that they'd keep you safe.
You gulp as the silk is pulled off to fall at your feet, soft cool wind greeting your skin.
At the 6th ring, Charles wrapped his arms around your stomach and pressed the chest to your back. His body offered you heat and protection. You could feel the lines of his muscles on your back, how his thumb gently stroked the skin of your stomach.
With the next ring, you're body lit up with a gasp. Charles pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade, his hands moving to your hips, giving a little squeeze.
The eighth, ninth, and tenth rings followed; each "ding!" giving Charles a cue to kiss more to touch more. And each time you stayed quiet, feeling your chest rise up and down deeply. In fear was it? Or anticipation? Curiosity? Expectation.
On the eleventh ring, you let Charles pull your cheek back so he could press a kiss to your lips. You let the stars out of your sight as you kissed back, electricity stinging you somehow in your lower spine. His lips were soft. Softer than you expected.
Feeling another set of lips on yours felt weird as well. Feelings his lips. Charles' lips. Charles' back. Charles' fingers, his arms, his chest rising and falling, the steady lub-dub lub-dub vibrating in his chest onto your back.
Such foreign. Feelings that you don't understand and don't want to end.
When the twelfth ring comes, Charles takes a step back and pulls you with him from your hips. But you don't go with him and his touch disappears. Your hands gripped the railing until your knuckles turned white, preventing you from returning to the warm bedroom with him.
You face front and look down at the garden. And for some reason, your body felt empty as you listen to Charles sigh and retreat to the warm bed.
You look up to the stars, wishing they could provide you with some comfort. And if they could talk, they'd most likely scold you.
Charles is not your enemy. He's not going to hurt you, he's shown that a lot today. He's going to be the rest of your life. And you don't want to make this situation worse. You want to be happy. You want a happy marriage.
Charles looked up from where he sat on his side, his eyes following you as you stepped inside, closing the sliding glass after yourself and taking steps till you were standing in front of him.
You pulled the two rings off your finger, sliding the wedding band back on and holding the purity ring for Charles to take. He looked up at you, understanding what you were asking him to do. What you didn't expect him to do was hold your hand and hold your palm to his mouth, leaving a kiss as he pulled the ring in his mouth.
Your face flushed red at the look his eyes gave you as he looked up at you through his eyebrows, moving his tongue in his mouth to wear the ring on his tongue.
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"Relax," Charles huffed, holding your hips down as he ripped open a packet with his other hand and teeth. "You know you can look," He says sliding the condom on.
"I— I don't know." You stutter, keeping your head laid back with your eyes screwed shut, hands over your face from the embarrassment you're feeling. The man chuckles and holds your hips. His smile widens when you yelp as he pulls your lower back onto his lap so your body is at an angle.
"I want you to look, I want you to know what's happening." He tries again, peeling your wrists off your face when he's unsuccessful and pinning them to your stomach instead. "Open your eyes," He ordered rather softly and you complied.
"There's nothing to be scared of," Charles promises as you run your eyes over the position he put you in before looking back in his green eyes. The brunette was sitting on his knees with your ass on his lap, your parted thighs at either side of his waist, his hands gently pining your wists down.
"Tell me if it's too much, if you want to stop, if it hurts, if you don't like it." He says, pulling you further up on his lap, leaning to bend his toes forward for extra support. "I'm with you the whole time," He whispered once more time, looking down at you.
Charles found himself laughing as your face flushed, embarrassed by the noise you made. "It's okay," He tells you with a smile, one that is oddly comforting. The Monegasque had barely pushed in and you'd squeaked loudly in surprise. You frowned, feeling a sense of shame and humiliation that he laughed.
A grunt left your lips as he shuffled closer and pulled you higher in his, leaning his body to yours. "It's okay," he smiles again, trying to get you to relax. You let him kiss you, hesitantly copying his movements to kiss him back. "You learn fast," Charles grunted pushing his hips and pulling yours.
A strangled cry left your lips which was swallowed in a kiss quickly by the man on top. Your hands flew out of his grip, one finding his hand another an arm. "You're doing great," His comforting voice came again, pushing further causing your body to arch up to his. He held back your arm and hand, pressing the latter to his chest.
"You're doing so good," He praised as you pressed your head back in discomfort, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. "So good, amour."
"You're going to split me," You whimpered, digging your nails into his arm and heels in the mattress. The feeling was foreign, stretching you out too far in hot pain. You didn't know what to make of the part of Charles inside.
"No no no," Charles shook his head, leaning his hands on either side of his head so he could hold his body up and show you. "Look, you're taking me so well," He held your cheek for a moment before putting his hand on your stomach.
You're glad at least one of you knew what he was doing. When you're body accepted Charles he'd started moving slowly, you were glad that he let you hold his hands, even entwining your fingers together.
This time around, you let the noises roll past your lips as Charles thrust his hips to meet yours. He held up your hands above your head, fingers entwined, bodies pressed together, utterly connected. He drank every moan you gave him like a starved man, leaving hickeys where he kissed your neck and shoulders.
At some point you found your arms wrapped around his back, your nose nuzzled in his neck. You felt your body rock back and forth with the quick pace of his thrusts, feeling deliciously full. It felt like you were whole. Like all the wrongs in the world were correct. Like this was where you were meant to be, all along.
With every pull and push, your tummy flutters and a soft moan falls from your lips.
Charles was grunting and moaning now too, his soft breath in your ear as he whispered to you in French. And you had to admit you loved his voice, his noises. Seeing him in this state— it was a beautiful sight, one you admired with half-lidded eyes.
Hearing him call your name as he nibbled on your ear and neck, whispering things like 'You fit me perfectly,' or 'You feel so good I don't think I'll stop,' or 'You're so perfect'. It filled you with confidence maybe a bit of bravery. It made some coil— some ecstasy inside of you tighten in an overwhelming intensity. And for some reason, you wanted to snap the coil.
"So tight?" Charles huffed, trying to push deeper, to explore and memorize you. You've heard the term "cock-drunk" before and now you understand. The feeling of veins dragging against your wars, his length twitching here and there. "You're close?" Charles asked.
"Close?" You asked through pants and little moan-hums, voice barely above a whisper. You move a hand to your head and look back to see how far your head is from bumping into the headboard.
Charles chuckled and smiled. He found it cute how little you knew. "Close here," He corrected, moving a hand down to your core, catching some of your dripping arousals before coating your clit.
His smile widened at your reaction, the way your back arched up into his chest, soft boobs against his hard abs, bouncing with every thrust; the way your hand left your head and gripped on his hair instead, a full needy moan leaving your lips that you couldn't bother to subdue.
"You're so pretty," Charles says, breath hot on your chest, peaking down to watch as his thumb press on your clit. He smiled again with a low laugh at the way you squirmed and moaned, pressing your face further into his neck. "I love how you react to me. So perfect for me. So Pure."
You felt his weight increase on you, a breathy moan echoing in your throat as he reached deeper inside you. "You're— s— so far in," you try to speak, looking in his eyes with furrowed brows.
Charles chuckles down with a, the hand he'd used previously to hold himself up with now cups your jaw instead. "Am I?" He asks, kissing you. You nodded, humming a 'mhm'. "How far?" He asks further, pinching your clit between his forefinger and thumb.
"S— so far—" You cut yourself off with a gasp and a whine, arching your back up and trying to pull him down. "Charles," the name is begged quietly. Charles only smiles softly, panting as he presses circles to your clit with his thumb, watching you squirm and whine.
"So sensitive aren't you? So pure. For me to love. For me to take, to ruin." He hums, thrusting a few more times until your body spasms beneath him. He relished in the loud whine, leaning his hands on either side of his head as he fucked you through your first orgasm while you hold onto his shoulders whimpering beneath him as the pleasure becomes too much.
Charles slows down to a stop before you're overstimulated. Gently, he takes your hands from his shoulders and presses kisses to your forehead, whispering praises in French. You didn't understand a single word but you still loved it.
You leaned up to catch his lips, cupping his cheek as you kissed passionately. His warm hand held yours once you pulled away, holding your hands in his lap as he sat back on his knees to look at what he'd done. The image of your rising and falling chest, your spent body, and ruffled hair cascading your face sticking to your forehead with beads of sweat.
"Charles— nghh," You whimpered, feeling his hips thrust. You were not expecting that. Not expecting more. White hot euphoria that made you squirm in discomfort.
"Sorry sorry," Charles apologised, thrusting his hips and watching as your body rocked and jolted. "I'm so close, I'm gonna cum," he heaved, relishing in the feeling, moving softly to not overload you too much.
"You're doing great, so great," you could only screw your eyes shut, shuffling your legs at his sides as he chases his pleasure. And as promised, he climaxed on top of you. You could feel his body shudder and hear a low moan. You watched as he slipped out, both of you tensing for a second before relaxing and falling back with a moan.
You gladly climb onto his chest with his help, holding your hands to your chest as he hugs you, his finger brushing through your hair, a feeling you're starting to adore. "How do you feel?" he asks and all you can bring yourself to whisper as you nuzzle in his neck is a quiet, "Empty," He chuckles, kissing your head as your eyes flutter shut.
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