#this time it was just the violence where everyone ends up screaming at each other instead of bloodshed

[n0t-y0ur-piece-0f-cake]

The study of human social behaviour

Summary: you get kidnapped by Yautja, as well as some other people. You try to escape but in a twisted turn of events, you end up being an aliens mate for life.

Fem reader x male yautja

Warnings: NSFW, kidnapping, non-con/rape, violence, death, swearing, metion of forced pregnancy

MDNI / MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

For everyone else: read at own risk

Not proof read, English is not my first language

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"I remembered how I was sitting at my dining table, eating.

Just minding my business and trying to calm down from my stressful day at work. But everything changed with a sudden white light illuminating my surroundings completely." I said, looking into everyone's faces. We sat in a circle. On the cold white ground. What seemed to be LED lights shone so bright, it hurt my eyes at the beginning. Now my eyes didn't mind anymore. The walls were empty and cold.

I turned to look behind me. Looked at the big glass where these aliens are probably observing us. "And that's how I ended up here, in this room. That's all I know." My glance shifted right back at the group. We were three women and three men. Some acknowledged my story by nodding, others by just looking at me wide eyed. I was last to tell. Their stories weren't any diffrent. All of them experienced that white illuminating light. And then they were waking up in here.

I have no idea how long we've already been here. But probably not even a day. Neither do I have any idea what these aliens want from us. Or if they would be happy to tell us, if they even know our tongue.

For now we just sat around. Trying to wrap our mind around what we should do. What THEY would do. One guy threw in a idiotic plan on how he would try to escape, which was quickly shut down and discouraged by us. Why? Because we already saw these aliens. We saw how they were built and could easily lift a out of hand human, to throw them out. The guy they threw out was here again, but he was now quiet. I don't know what they did to him. He doesn't tell either.

After a while our conversations got more quiet, less frequent. I personally was frustrated there was nothing to pass time here. Frustrated I still don't know what the fuck they want. I was laying on the ground for a while now. Others laying too, or sitting against the wall. Suddenly the lights dimmed. I jump up and look around. See if I can spot any differences. Nothing. After a few seconds a big plate from underneath the viewing window was brought into the room. On it were various kind of fruits and vegetables from earth. We all looked at each other. Confused. Should we eat it? Is it poisoned? A woman took the first step. "I'm hungry!", she exclaimed. She took a Mango and bit right in it, peeling the skin then, when she punctured the Mango.

Everyone else followed. I did so too, grabbing an apple, inspecting it. I stood close to the viewing window. Out of curiosity I pressed my forehead against it, I could see the shape of these aliens. They stared at me. Noting something in their, what seemed to be, computers. I sat down on the ground. Just like everyone else. We were now gathered around the plate containing food.

After what seemed to be another hour, the light turned even more dim. Enough to see, but significantly more darker. "I have to use the toilet. Real bad", one of the guys said. "Use the corner?" The other guy said. One girl got mad and made a gagging sound "Are you crazy?" "Well where else is he supposed to go? There's nothing here!"

I look up at the window, and point at it. "Maybe we can ask them?" "Oh sure. Please mister or misses alien, give us a toilet." The guy who had to pee said mockingly. The girl that was still quiet since the beginning sighed and said we should give it a try. She stood up. She looked at all of us, unsure if she should really do it. I nodded. The pee guy nodded too. "Toilet! We need a toilet!" She screamed at the window. Nothing happened. I look through the window again making sure someone is even on the other side. Which yes they are. I look at the girl. "Do it again", I said. She screamed again. This time I joined in and banged my fist against the window. The guy who had to pee chuckled and mocked us again.

Suddenly the big plate was taken back. The sound of a motor made us all go quiet. We looked at where the sound came from. We all starred in awe as a new small room in a corner was build. The new walls including a door came out of the big walls. The motor kept whirring until it seemed to lock in. The guy who had to pee stood up and bolted for that room. As he opened the door he screamed out in ecstasy. "It's an actual fucking bathroom!" He slammed the door, locking it and doing his thing. We could hear muffled yelling. "It has a shower and everything, holy shit!"

The girl who was screaming at the window to get a toilet sat down again. We were all still in our spot. And the rest of the room was still empty. We were all in that corner as if the rest of the room is bad. The guy came back from his bathroom break. Sat down with us as well. I didn't know anyone. Not even their names. Would it be awkward to ask now? Whatever. I'll do it. "I'm Y/N."

They looked up at me. Silence.

"I'm Dave", said the pee guy. "Rachel." The girl that screamed but was always silent.

"Maria", she smiled as she said her name. The girl that was disgusted by the 'pee in the corner suggestion'. "Alexander. But Alex is cool too" said the guy who had lost his temper at the start and was taken by these aliens to god knows where but brought back.

The guy who suggested Dave to pee in the corner sighed. "Nick."

"Is that short for anything?" Maria asked. "Nicklas." Silence again. So now we know each others names. I was tired. I layed down. Some others followed soon after. Motor whirring came up again. We jumped up to look. Out of the wall came beds. For everyone one. They were lined up next to each other on one wall, next to the bathroom. We looked at each other again. We slowly stood up and went over. A fight soon came to ensue. No one wanted to sleep right next to the window. "One of the men have to go on that bed!" Rachel stood her ground. "Nuh uh", said Nick, "I won't let them grab me first!"

"There's not even a door there! To be frank the door is over there!", Dave pointed at the other wall, the door was disguised. The wall plate was over it, covering the door. We all know. Because Alex was taken through it. "Nick, they're always gonna be watching us, everyone of us. It doesn't matter." I said. Nick turned to me. "Then go ahead and sleep on this bed. It's all yours."

I rolled my eyes. I looked at it. At all of them. None of them had blankets. Only pillows and a matress. I nodded. "Fine." Since this discussing was over we all just laid down. Alex still sat on the foot end of his bed. Starring at the opposite wall and where the door is. I was too tired to hold more conversation today. And I don't want to push him. So I just fell asleep.

The next day was more of the same. Our day was started by being woken up by motor whirring sound. Another plate with the same food being brought in. But instead of grabbing something everyone groaned and made a run for the bathroom. Some were faster some slower. I stood up slowly. I didn't have to pee that badly. I passed Alex bed. He was still laying in it. Eyes closed. Snoring. He's a deep sleeper. The line became smaller and smaller. And at last we were all gathered around the table and eating. Except for Alex.

"What did he see?" Maria asked. Everyone shrugged their shoulders. Silence. Maybe no one wanted to keep talking about it because maybe these aliens will get mad. Understandable. We left some food for Alex on the plate. As we stood up and went back to our respective beds to sit down on soft ground the motor starter whirring again. The plate with Alex's food was taken back. Since I was closest to the window and the plate I jumped up and grabbed the left overs before it was fully gone.

I placed it at the foot end of my bed. Waiting on my bed for anything to happen. Dave stood up and banged his fist at the window. "We're bored!" Maria rolled her eyes. There was no reaction even after a while. "Ask for something specific." Rachel said. I nod. "Oh! Like a PC or something." We all looked at Maria's comment. "A PC? What would you want with that? I doubt they have earth Internet access or would allow us to use theirs. If they even have that." Dave said.

"Well they do have PCs so I think they might have Internet? But... yeah. Ask for something else maybe?" I said. Dave resumed banging on the window. "Give us paper and pen! Paper! Pen!" Alex was awoken by the comotion. He grunted. "Shut the fuck up!" Motor started whirring again. A table with a chair like thing appeared. Right in the middle. On it, was nothing. Dave turned to the window again. "For gods sake, Pen! Paper!" Another whirring. This time the plate where usually the food was, came with several pencils and a stack of paper.

Dave grabbed a pen and paper. "If you're up for it, let's play some paper games." Not even a minute later we all gathered on the ground playing 'Town, Country, River'.

It's been days now. Painted and written paper was scattered underneath our beds. We requested a few more things. Like music, but it was a Walkman or whatever you called them from the 80s. We tried requesting a movie, all we got was a Disc, but no TV or anything. It doesn't even say what kind of movie or other media it contains. We requested a flashlight because Maria started to freak out when the lights dimmed for the night, which they granted. We requested actual cooked meals. But all that came was questionable looking things. They tried their best but... didn't look to edible. We did taste it. Either it was bland or not cooked through. So we kept eating fruits and vegetables. Yes. We did try to request raw foods, even going as far as to write and draw the ingredients and what tools we'd need, but they didn't do anything. None of them ever came in since Alex little incident. Not until this day.

We weren't sure if they had cameras in this room or not. Or where their blindspots are. So we came up with something. Nick, who had suggested before that we should try and escape, 'invented' the human pile. We would throw ourselves on a pile, laying on the ground with our stomach, basically. So our heads would be looking down at the same spot in the middle and our heads would be so close together we'd maybe have the chance of a camera not catching what we write on a piece of paper. We'd also be stacked upon each other, and someone would have to hold Maria's flashlight so we could see what was written on the paper. Because that's how close our heads had to be. Of course these aliens must wonder and get suspicious what we'd do. So we started out with drawing really weird things like memes. Of course we'd laugh about it. We all hoped the aliens would think we were just doing some stupid human bonding stuff drawing these pictures.

And only in-between we wrote the plans and discussions for escaping. We'd black them out or overdraw them with memes. Just to make sure. Our plan so far? The strongest must pretend that he has a heart attack or something. Everyone else needs to back up against the empty wall and pretend to be scared, where the door is. So when they open it the second strongest and strongest can distract them aliens. But why try to escape? We were here since days. Pretty sure we're on a planet. Not ours but a planet. We can hear no big motor sound that made us think that we were still in space or something. Also the fruits and vegetables changed in shape, size and color that it made us think that these ones are not from earth anymore. They looked more alien yet earthly. Like they've ran out of earth veggies and fruits and now only have their similar stuff left.

Maybe we'd have a chance of surviving out there. But we won't stay here forever. We asked them on how long they plan on keeping us here. What they want. But no answer ever came. They just starred back at us through the window. We're not gonna die here.

The day of the plan finally came. We all kept acting as always. Wake up. Eat. Do something. Nick and Dave worked out, push ups, squats, whatever, trying go get more pumped up for later. Alex was still in bed, not yet getting up, but due to the circumstances fully awake. Maria, me and Rachel on the ground playing or drawing. Rachel then got up. She took some tomatoes from under her bed that she kept there from this morning and started screaming and acting weirdly. The plan has started.

Maria and I got up. Looking at her. The men turned to look at her. We all pretend to be in shock. She started throwing the tomatoes on the window. Taking the table and throwing it against the window. Dave shoved the table to the wall, where he ordered us to go and stay safe away from Rachel. Still the plan.

I felt my heart pumping hard. I am so nervous. This could go so wrong. Suddenly the plates were moved and the door was opened. An alien came in and headed towards Rachel. Dave immediately grabbed the table and smashed it down on the alien. They got into a fight, the table broke so Dave took a piece and hit it over and over again. The alien groaned. We ran towards the door. It was closed. There were buttons tho. Alex pressed the one he remembered the most from the day he was taken. It opened. Just as wanted to slip through the door closed on me and Dave. Dave got stuck between the door. It didn't do much. But the wall plates started moving to shut close. We heard the others scream from the other side. Nick and Rachel quickly taking over and running away with the other two.

The wall plates didn't stop. Dave screamed for help. I grabbed his arm and started to pull him, but his other arm was stuck in the door. He flexed it, twisted and turned it, but it was stuck. The wall finally came to a close. I screamed and looked away as a crunching noise emitted the room. I shut my eyes and held my ears with my hands that quickly let go of Dave. I looked at the ground. My back was turned to Dave. A puddle of blood came close to my shoes. I took away my hands from my ears. Listening if I could hear Dave speak or breath. Nothing. Silence.

I felt nauseous. I felt like I was about to drop dead myself. I couldn't bear looking back at him now. I dont want to see his crushed body. The alien that has been hit layed in front of me. Seemingly unconscious as he was still breathing. Defeated I sat down next to it. I couldn't even bear to sit on the bed now. I heard commotion behind me. The wall plates and door moving to open. Daves body hit the ground, before he was dragged out. When I was sure he was gone, I turned as well. Ther was no alien standing guard. So I jumped up and ran- but the unconscious alien grabbed my arm and jerked me right back down with one motion. He wasn't unconscious. He was pretending like we were. "Please let me go." I said, still trying to pull away but the alien was just too strong.

It got up. Its large frame hovering over me. It was wider than me too. His muscles seemed so large and its grip... two things that showed me that it could crush my skull easily if it wanted to. I was as well lifted up to stand. Another alien, unlike the one holding me, wore white instead of silver armor. The one now standing in the doorframe also seemed to wear more fabric. Was more covered. The one holding me seemed to wear the more basic armor or clothes. So I thought. They communicated in a tongue I couldn't understand. When they were done, the one holding me looked down to me, looking deeply into my eyes. I looked at it back. It's eyes shone yellow, against his dark, almost black and brown shades of reptile like skin.

I couldn't read its emotions. Out of no where it yanked me with it, dragging me god knows where. Are they going to put me down, out of my misery like the experiment animals that we maybe were? I was dragged out of the room, I jumped over the puddle of Daves blood. Feeling disgusted and being reminded about these sounds his body made. I'd never forget that. Hallways and hallways without end. We seemed to get into another testing facility. As it still dragged me, we passed embryos of various types of unrecognisable creatures kept in large tubes.

I didn't fully understand, couldn't grasp on it that quickly. Until we reached a empty room. It wasn't large. Maybe 10 feet in every direction. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked. The alien looked at me. It shook its head no. It could understand me. "What will you do then?" It tilted its head to the side. A deep voice, growling animalistic, started to speak. "Experiment." "Experiment?", I looked at it shocked. It could speak. But what does it mean? "What were you planning with my group?" It took a while until it could form another sentence, like as if it was trying to make sure it was using the right words. "Ooman social Experiment. But now they dead." It said in broken English.

I looked at it wide eyed. "You just wanted to observe our behaviour?" It nodded. "When ooman is entrapped, yes." "And then?"

"Let ooman free again, but oomans tried escape, now dead." My eyes widened even more. "You would have let us go??" A tear ran down my face, knowing we would have made it out alive anyways. "They're dead? I saw them run out!" "We killed." It said almost confident. I looked at it now with confusion. "So why not kill me, huh!?"

"Other experiment. I decide." I tilted my head now too. "Other experiment?" "Yes, but ooman will not get out of this." It said stepping closer to me. I took a step back, trying to create distance, it tried to grab my arms but I quickly turned and tried to get to the door. It did reach it, but I didn't know which button to press, neither did pressing all of them help. Or all of them at the same time, before it grabbed me by the waist, to slam me onto his frontal body. "No escape, ooman", it growled above my head. Not long after it placed its hands on my pants colar. I placed my hands on its arms, trying to get these arms away from there, knowing where this will go. My pants buttons were ripped right off, didn't matter how much I tried to get it away. It then pulled down all of that I wore underneath my waist. Now my bare ass and vagina were exposed to the cold air. One hand was placed right between my legs, cupping my vagina, while it's middle finger started working on my clit. It send out signals to my brain I didn't want. I yelped like a puppy. I saw how it threw a cloth to the side of us. I remember it, it was the cloth between its legs. That was seemingly worn as a type of pants.

I grabbed its arms, that was still cupping and working on my vagina, still trying to push it away, I clenched my legs together, making the feeling and every movement even more intense unwillingly. My yelps have turned into small gasps of air. I leaned back on its chest, looking up on it. "Please stop" I begged. It leaned down, so much so that I was made to bend over in the process. Its hand stopped cupping me. And the other was on my neck, its pressure on my neck and now waist made me arch my back. "Stay." It demanded. I whimpered, but I obeyed. Pleased that I stood still, I felt it part my fold with its fingers. If I wasn't sure if this alien was male before I was sure enough now.

Before I knew he placed the tip of his cock into my vagina, before grabbing my hips and slamming his length into me. A scream left my mouth. A pained one. It was something I never felt before. A girth what felt like almost 4 fingers wide and a length that hit my cervix on the first slam. And from what I could feel, he still had more, that just couldn't fit in. He leaned down back to me, so my back and his chest weren't ever to part. "Mate." He said. He started with a slow pace, i could feel more of his cocks texture. It seemed to have some kind of small knobs on it, on its shaft. My face felt hot. Almost burning. I didn't know where to place my hands, so i placed them on top of his. Almost grabbing him. "My mate." He growled even more as his breath seemed to picked up with his pace. Him hitting my cervix now harder made me squirm in pain, but at the same time it felt good. His pace got even more faster. My right hand traveled to his right side of his hip, trying to push him away, or at least to make him slow down. It was too much for me, as I let my head drop, my eyes roll back and soft moans now escaping my mouth, his pace dropped but his thrusts became more violent, as well as his grunts. Not long after he buried his cock as deep as he could, standing up straight and letting me feel his warm cum fill me, as he still held me in place with his hands on my hips.

I saw it drip down along my thighs, it was a glowing greenish substance. "My mate." It repeatedly muttered. My heart pace calmed down after a while. As well as my body seemed to as well. So he pulled out. "Ah'kun", he said, pointing to himself, before he put back on his cloth covering his dick. He left the room without a word.

I stood there trembling, unsure what to do now. How to even process what just happened or throughout the whole day to be exact. Ah'kun did come back after a while. Bringing another cloth, almost looking like fancy panties, with sumo like cloth in the front and back. He held it infrong of my feet. He wanted me to step in so he could make me wear it? I guess so. So i did. He pulled it up. It was almost a bit too tight. But it should do for now. In the same motion as he pulled up my new panties or pants, he undid my shirt and bra. Of course I tried to go against it, but he just didn't bother. He was still stronger. He disposed all of my clothes with a trashcan that came out by pressing something on an empty wall. Right after he dragged me out. I was now wearing nothing but these weird panties. "Forgot..." He said. Taking a necklace of his neck and binding it around mine. "What is that?" I asked, looking at the necklace seemingly made out of bones. "Shows everyone your mate. My mate."

I look at him. At this point, I wasn't a experiment to him anymore, wasn't I? He took my silence for an answer, that was good enough for him. As we stepped outside into the daylight, we were right. We were on a planet. A tropical one. With what almost looked like aztec pyramids. And it seemed to be normal that these aliens wore only these panties. Even the female ones. Only few wore armor. "Why don't they all have armor?" I looked at him, as he held my hand. "No hunters or warrior" he pointed at the majority that didn't wear armor. "And you?" I said, I looked back and forth at them and him. "I, elite hunter. You have luck, my mate." He started to get confident again.

"Why luck?" "Elite hunter, high status." He said even more confident. His ego definitely stroked. He dragged me down the stairs of the pyramid we were in. The lab pyramid I'm taking. As we stepped out of the shadow, it was even a smart idea of him to remove my warm clothing. Because the sun here was brutally hot.

We were walking for a bit, the other aliens looked at us, specifically me. Some talked with Ah'kun, in their native tongue of course. Giving him proud pats on the back. Was a human mate an achievement? A trophy? Who knows. I don't. We finally reached another pyramid, one of those many. "My home, you live now too, here."

He closed the door behind me. In here, the air was cool again. The decorations and furniture style felt similar to several antique human civilisations, but yet held their advanced alien touch. I looked everywhere. There was even an armor room. Where his helmets and other armor were displayed. A trophy room with several heads of all kinds of creatures.

I kept looking. I found everything you'd expect from an house. Bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, living room. And empty or barely filled rooms. "What's all the empty rooms for?" "Storage. And little ones." I tilted my head. "Little ones?" He nodded. Did he mean kids? Was I even able to give that to him? What was I thinking. When did I start to be okay with this? This isn't my planet. In that moment it dawned on me. Was this my life now? I started crying. Not just because of the fact that I was here, but because of all of this.

Ah'kun patted me caringly on the back. "You will be good mom, no worry."

[quixotical-lymbo]

OMG I LOVED YOU ORION PAX FIC (this bot needs more love) can you do an Orion pax x reader, but it’s the reader’s reaction to Orion falling in that hole thingy? (yk at the end of the movie that D-16 dropped him in) like does

1. the reader goes crazy and bets up D-16 ?

2. jumps in after him?

3. cries and says "HE WAS MY FUTURE"

I need to knowwwww (also take some food bc i know you cooking with your fics 🍎🥐🥯🍔🍗🍟🌯🌮) TYY

Pairing: Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: What happens when a bot witnesses their conjunx endura die in front of their eyes?  Warnings/Tags: Transformers One SPOILERS, guard!reader, cybertronian reader, mild descriptions of violence. Word Count: 1300+ words 

The first time you met Orion Pax was a blurry moment of rushing figures and yelling. This red and blue bot had a reputation, but you didn't know his designation at the time where you first started your job as a guard. 

Well, you certainly knew all about him, especially after your first run in with the troublemaker making his grand exit through a balcony. Of course, you just had to be making your rounds flying around the perimeter of the building when you were tackled out of the sky and pinned against the rooftop of the neighboring building. Groaning as the mech on top of you sputtered a flurry of apologies. The mech ran away without even offering a servo to help you up. 

The second time the two of you met, you learned his designation from the gossip about a miner always sneaking in and out of government buildings which held old records. You connected the name to the face of the mech you ran into again when patrolling indoors. 

It was…a unique exchange of pleasantries as Orion Pax attempted to sway you out of sounding the alarm. His attempts at distracting you with those flirty glances and sweet words did nothing to stop you from cuffing him and bringing him back to his station.

Over the deca-cycle, the interactions between you two grew warmer as the forced proximity bred an intimacy between you two. 

A conjunx ritus later and the two of you were an odd couple in the optics of Iacon. 

All because you managed to 'catch' the mech of who stole your spark. 

So why couldn't you save your conjunx when he needed you the most? 

It all happened too fast for your mind to react in time, but your frame moved before you could even scream the name out of your conjunx as his battered form dropped into the pit. You rushed forward, cables feeling like they were on fire as you reached a servo out in hopes of grabbing hold of something. Yet, you were too late and Orion was swallowed by the abyss right as something grasped your arms and yanked you away from the edge. 

You struggled to throw them off of you, blurred edges of your vision and the muffled shouts of your name didn't stop you from trying to fly down there—it didn't matter whether or not your spark would extinguish in the process. All that mattered was finding Orion Pax, your best friend, your companion, your everything. 

A voice heavy with grief managed to snap you out of your haze. You glanced over to meet Elita's optics, her face twisted with a pitying look that nearly sent you over the edge–metaphorically and literally. 

"The age of primes has ended....no more false prophets, follow me and you will never again be deceived!"

Cheers broke out from the high guards scattered within the shocked crowd of Iacon's citizens. 

"I will lead us all into the future!" Megatron opened his chassis and replaced the cog in his chest with Megatronus's cog. Purple electrical sparks emitted from his frame as his body transformed into a bulkier form.

"I…am…MEGATRON!" 

"Burn it down…all of it!"

Shots fired from the crowd as Megatron began shooting at the Sentinel statue and the structures surrounding it. 

 

"He's going to kill everyone." 

"We have to stop him-" Elita-1 was cut off as your form rushed past her and headed for the silver mech. Bee and Elita-1 glanced at each other before nodding and hastening after you. 

As Megatron continued shooting his cannon, a pede slammed into the side of his helm knocking him onto his knees. Megatron whipped around to find your fist heading toward his faceplate, he dodged and managed to grab your wrist in time to swing you around like a rag doll. 

Despite having a cog all this time, your frame was still shorter compared to Megatron's—but that didn't make you any less of a fighter. 

"You took him away from me! Your own best friend!" You bellowed and wrapped your legs around his arm to twist out of his grip. You swung your body weight to shift behind him and pummel him in punches. 

"He was your friend! My conjunx…my future….mine!" You grunted as Megatron ripped you off and threw you away. You rolled onto your servos and knees before jumping aside before the energy blast could hit you. The weight of losing Orion hit you all at once as you realized you had just rolled near the place where D-16…Megatron had dropped him. Your optics dimmed as your vision blurred from the rising dust and smoke. Your helm dropped and you couldn't see the massive cannon pointing at your pathetic form. 

"I took down the only thing standing in my way," Megatron sneered. The purr of his weapon charging up became a roar as the light within readied to snuff your spark. "And now? I will make sure you join him along with the rest who stand against me." 

"Not if we have anything to do about that!" Elita-1 charged in and snatched the cannon in time to redirect the shot elsewhere. 

A fight ensued and a multitude of thoughts ran through your processor. Your distraught and grief melded your frame into the floor. The noises and smell of destruction around you all blurred into one as you curled into a ball, wishing to disappear into the same abyss your conjunx had dropped in. 

After all, why continue this seemingly never ending cycle of injustice without the bot who made life worth living? 

No, Orion wouldn't have wanted you to think that way. Nor would have sat there wallowing in his own misery if your spark had stopped beating. He would've fought for you and you…will do the same.

Slamming your clenched servos into the ground you shot up and barreled toward the fight. Snarling as you drew closer and pounced onto Megatron just as he kicked Bee away. Before anyone on the tower could react, something exploded a piece of it and shot up into the sky. 

 

Amidst the chaos, you, Bee, and Elita-1 slid off the dome and landed on the lower platform again. 

Snapping your gaze up you found an familiar yet strange mech donning a similar color scheme to Orion standing before Megatron. 

 

"It can't be…" Bee began.

"It is." Elita-1 finished with wide optics. 

"Orion?" You whispered. 

 

He was alive. Alive. 

 

He was…different. 

 

…he wasn't dead and that's the important part. 

When all was said and done, Megatron was banished from Iacon and Energon returned to Cybertron, cogs being returned to the cogless citizens, you were finally able to have a moment alone with your conjunx now named Optimus Prime. 

His optics shone brightly as they landed on your faceplate. He turned to you fully and stretched his arm to reach you. You eagerly leaned into the palm of his servo, cheek pressing against the warmth of his hold on you. The faint hum of his spark calmed the raging storm within you, allowing your tense cables to ease up. 

"You've…changed." You sighed as you blinked back the liquid in your optics. 

"...so have you," Optimus craned his helm down to hold your gaze. "Come, we have a lot of things to discuss." 

You interlocked your digits with his, reluctant to drift away from him, but his softening gaze and even softer words persuaded you to let go. 

Trailing after the three but sticking close to Optimus's side, you nearly tripped over your own pedes as you felt the weight of his love through the bond. Keeping your expression neutral, you smiled inwardly and returned his affections tenfold. 

Primus, you were happy he was alive. 

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. banner(s) by @enchanthings !!

[star-girl69]

I Did Something Bad

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: you somehow become the target of a deadly vendetta, and it ends in an overnight stay in the infirmary, a lot of blood, and a lot of your scary girlfriend being her scary self.

a/n: save me clarisse “touch her and die” la rue save me save me save me save me save me save me… this is a completely self indulgent fic and no i will not apologize. love y’all!!!!!

inspired by an ask @nvirskies sent me

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

warnings: not proofread, VERY VIOLENT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF Y/N GETTING INJURED!!!!! BLOOD!!!!! WOUNDS!!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, anyways…. DANNNNNYYYYYY MY BABY!!!!! HES BACK!!!!!, ares cabin bonding time <3, FOUND FAMILY, y/n is crazy too, insane power couple who are insane together!!, y’all know what’s going on…… protective clarisse, possessive clarisse, insane clarisse, murderous clarisse, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, swearing, attempted murder!, LOTS of violence, kissing, clarisse hates talking about her feelings but she will do it for y/n, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

It’s the one place where she really gets to be in her element. That’s where she prefers to be- in the moment, hard and fast, a flurry of swords and adrenaline and the feeling of someone surrendering.

Of course, Clarisse is never the one surrendering. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone surrender to her.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

And that love is also shared by her equally violently-minded siblings, which is why you’re sitting on her lap in the middle of the Ares cabin, listening to everyone scream and shout about tactics and plans and things that are just general boring.

Clarisse, of course, listens to everything. Silently humming to herself, drumming her fingers against your stomach, rolling her eyes and scoffing silently at some of her siblings ideas.

They all shout out ideas, but everyone knows that Clarisse has the final say.

You should probably be preparing with your own cabin- but this is just so much fun.

The tension in the room rises significantly after Nelson shuts down another one of Carrie’s ideas. Carrie has a mind made for the strategy of battle, where Nelson is all tough war and pain.

Clarisse likes to brag that she’s the perfect mix of both.

“I’m bored,” you huff, leaning back into your girlfriend. “Can they start punching each other again? Or something entertaining?”

She laughs and wraps her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. “You’re so violent,” she mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the violent one.”

“I jus’ think it’s really funny,” you shrug. “Like, can you blame me? It’s objectively funny.”

Danny, your favorite of Clarisse’s siblings, skitters through his older siblings and throws himself onto the couch next to you.

“Did they start fighting yet?” he asks, practically bouncing in his seat.

“No,” you sigh, dramatically.

Clarisse puts her arm around his shoulder, and you know she feels ridiculously proud over the fact that she’s the favorite of the most lovable member of the Ares cabin, and the fact you’re literally draped over her.

Not your fault she’s so comfy.

“Hey, how you feelin’ about tomorrow?” you ask Danny.

His face hardens. “I’m gonna fuck a bitch up.”

“Oh, my Gods,” you mutter, listening to Clarisse chuckle and pat his back.

“Hell yeah,” she smiles.

“Good!” you say after a second, feeling slightly disturbed over the 11 year-old’s colorful language. But, who are you to stop him?

Clarisse sighs after a moment, and you look up to see Carrie and Nelson finally at each other’s throats. Besides for the fact it’s just so funny when the siblings fight, they should get all of the anger out now so they can work as a team tomorrow.

“Well, no, Nelson, we aren’t gonna fucking ‘kill them with kindness,’ because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, fuckers,” Clarisse says, but they’re too absorbed in the fight to hear her.

You scramble off of her, climbing over Danny, watching in amazement as he opens the bag of pretzels he did not have in his hand a second ago- stuffing one in his mouth and holding it out to you.

These pretzels might have been buried in between the couch cushions. But they’re sealed, so who cares.

“You know what, fuck you, Carrie!” Nelson shouts, pushing her back.

“Askin’ for it,” she laughs, winding up and punching him straight in the face.

You can’t feel bad for the crunch, because Nelson should have know Carrie was gonna punch him- he could have at least put in an effort to stop her. Instead, he just stood there and took it.

“Oh,” Matty winces, sliding next to you. Why the hell are random things just appearing? Did he come out of the cushions too? Probably, seeing as he’s always falling asleep. “Askin’ for it,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

Nelson recovers from the hit and jabs at Carrie- but she stands there, hand on her hip, completely still.

Clarisse catches his arm.

He’s breathing out heavily, and the room goes pretty much silent- except for you, Danny and Matty chomping on pretzels in the corner of the couch.

“You’re fuckin’ embarrassing, Nelson.”

He pulls himself away from her and huffs, heading to the bathroom to deal with his bright red cheek.

Clarisse sighs heavily.

“Gods, can’t have one night without someone punching someone.”

Carrie looks around the room with a smug smile, scoffing when Clarisse shoulders her as she walks past. She lays down in your waiting arms, kissing your hand as you wrap them around her.

“Gettin’ on my nerves,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning into you.

“I know,” you soothe, turning around and making a silly face to Danny at her dramatics.

—-

Nelson is obviously still angry the next day. His helmet doesn’t cover all of the nasty bruise on his cheek, a sickening purple against his tan skin.

Him and Carrie swap glares across the the throngs of red helmets.

“Okay, Carrie, stop,” you huff. “He might actually kill you. You’re the one who got a punch in- let it go.”

She turns to glare at you, now.

“Tell him to stop staring at me.”

“Well, you can help by looking away first.”

“Fine,” she mumbles, putting her helmet on and tightening her grip on her sword. Chiron made his usual speech around 10 minutes ago, and Clarisse has finally finished updating everyone- more like yelling incoherently at everyone- about their positions.

But you have a similar strategy.

The blue team has the brains of the Athena Cabin, but the red team has all the brute strength.

Clarisse huffs, walking over to you and Carrie.

“Okay, ready?” she asks, reaching over to tighten the straps of your armor- even through they’re perfectly fine- by habit.

Carrie let’s out a deep breath. “Yes. Very ready to fuckin’ pummel those blue shits and pretend they’re Nelson.”

“That’s the spirit!” you smile, slapping her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and steps away from you, smiling slightly.

Danny and Matty walk over, and your little band is complete. You hunt in the woods just south of the flag, deterring a lot of hopefuls. The older campers know to come up with sneakier ways to get by, but Clarisse is otherwise confident in those she placed by the flag to really protect it.

You strike out into an offensive stance, pointing the end of your blade straight at Danny- and he quickly counters with his own impeccable stance.

“Oh, yeah, they don’t stand a chance,” you smile, and he returns it.

—-

You take your normal routes through the woods.

With the added weight of you and Danny, the group is not as stealthy as they could be- but Clarisse is a secret teddy bear who doesn’t like to be away from you for long, and Danny is too young to be set loose, left to watch the big kids work, occasionally jumping in for a few swings.

Leaves crunch under your feet in the otherwise silent forest. You’ve already come across a few stragglers, and before you could even raise your sword the Ares siblings had disarmed them. Your heart squeezed seeing the absolutely heartbroken look on Danny’s face- he was promised that this time he could really fight.

And after you pulled Clarisse off to the side and reminded her of her deal- Danny was leading the group, with you and Clarisse behind him.

He marches tall and proud, sword pointed out, even though Clarisse scolds him and says his arm will get tired- he’s young and doesn’t listen to his half-sibling.

You smile, watching him, admiring how carefree he is. The walk continues mostly in a stealthy silence- Clarisse, Carrie and Matty has mastered the art of walking silently- so your cover is lost by you and Danny.

Of course, whenever you try to convince Clarisse that maybe you should go somewhere else- she looks at you like you’ve suddenly turned into a female Minotaur.

Clarisse, her hand in yours right now, has a hard time understanding the concept that she can’t be with you all the time. That you might get hurt, that she can’t always stop it.

It’s sweet how constantly concerned she is over you, it makes your stomach twist so good.

She squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your reverie. Voices.

“Danny,” you whisper, almost silently, kicking the back of his leg. When he turns around, frown on his face, you point towards the direction of the voices- and now footsteps.

You all stop in your tracks.

Danny practically jumps up in down, you smile wide, and Clarisse signals to Carrie and Matty, urging you and Danny closer to the action.

When they come into the clearing, a few Hermes kids dressed in blue bandanas, swords in their hands. They’re all strong, you’ve seen them around- recognize them vaguely as potentials that lost to Clarisse in ugly sparring matches.

The siblings have disappeared into the trees.

So it’s just you, unsuspecting, and Danny.

You can see the triumphant looks on their faces.

Except for one of them.

Nicky, maybe? You don’t care enough about him to know his name. But there’s something more in his eyes that you notice immediately, something similar to the passion Clarisse gets in her eyes at the mention of this game.

Danny jumps forward, sword swinging just the way his blood knows, the way his siblings have taught him meticulously.

They seem momentarily surprised at the force his small body can produce, quickly countering with their own jabs, swords clashing together. The other focuses on you.

You’re not worried, you know the siblings are just letting the two of you have your moments before they really come in and you can sit back and watch Clarisse fight. Muscles rippling, sick smile on her face, spear glowing with electricity.

He comes at you and your swords clash together, the force of it making your teeth ring- Gods, he’s strong. He pulls back and you do the same thing a few more times, neither of you able to get the upper hand- until he finally seems to realize his height advantage.

He swings his sword down on you, pressing down hard- and with gravity on his side you have to put all of your focus into stopping that downward sword.

You don’t see his foot coming out to kick you back.

You only feel it, boot in your chest, wind knocked out of you, groaning as you slam into the ground.

“Fuck,” you breathe, tasting blood in your mouth.

“Y/N!” Danny shouts, and that’s when you see his sword coming down on you again. He does it on purpose, that much is sword, the strategic placing of his sword slicing through the top of your arm.

He doesn’t mean to kill you. He means to hurt you.

His purpose isn’t winning the game, you realize as the blade tears through skin, his purpose is to hurt you. That’s what you saw in his eyes.

Delight that his prey was right in front of him.

The realization washes over you like a wave- but like the real ocean, another one comes- an overwhelming feeling of pain, blooming outward like a flower.

He bites his lip in concentration, standing over you as his blade sinks into the dirt. He smiles wide, hitting his target.

You scream.

It’s a quick stop. The clearing is filled with the sound of your screams, swords stopping in midair- everyone realizing simultaneously that you’re really hurt. That this boy hurt you on purpose.

Something cuts through the air, wind in your ears, swiftly burying itself through Nicky’s armor and into his side.

You’ve realized in the last day that men are stupid. First, it was Nelson not expecting to get punched, and now it was Nicky not prepared for a retaliation after hurting you.

The thick armor slowed down the spear, so it unfortunately stabs his side and falls right out.

He yells in pain, ripping off his armor, revealing a small cut. Nothing compared to yours, but you can faintly recognize the fire in his eyes before Matty is leaning over you and Carrie is wrapping a bandana above the pain in your arm.

You hear the sounds of something happening, someone fighting, skin on skin.

You hear all of this, you see all of it, but all you can feel is the burning, burning cut in your arm. It feels like he cut it off. Your mind is hazy, you know blood is gushing, you never knew something could hurt this bad.

You faintly realize you bit your tongue when you went down. Blood spurts from your mouth when you cough, when you groan in pain, when you say her name like a prayer over and over again.

“Clarisse,” you moan, legs twisting around, trying to get away from the pain that you can’t escape from. “Clarisse, Clarisse, please, Clar…”

Matty pulls your head into his lap.

You can tell it’s bad, you can see the queasy look on his face. You clench your fist- the one you can feel, at least- to keep from screaming, heels digging into the dirt. You’re still trying to get away. But you can’t. You can’t get away from this all consuming pain.

“It’s okay,” Danny whispers, suddenly appearing next to you. He voice shakes, he doesn’t know, he can’t tell you anything reassuring.

“Can you go find someone, Danny? One of the Apollo kids, anyone?”

He ignores Carrie, starring at you for a second longer.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, his voice quiet, finally able to act like the young boy he is.

“You can go,” you breathe, somehow finding the strength to make him believe you’re okay. “Go help me, okay?”

His little footsteps disappear into the woods faster than you’ve ever heard him run, even when they have his favorite brownies for dessert.

You let out a sob.

“D-did he cut it off?” you moan. “It feels like he cut it off, please tell me he didn’t… he didn’t cut my arm off…”

“Oh, fuck, no,” Carrie breathes, pressing down agains the wound to try and stop the blood from gushing out- but it doesn’t really help. It’s just too much. “I mean, it’s deep and it’s nasty, but you’ve still got an arm, don’t worry.”

She laughs, awkwardly, nervously. You can feel even more of your arm drifting away, blood pouring out onto the ground.

“Hey, hey, no,” Matty mutters, lightly hitting your face.

“Wha-”

“Can’t fall asleep, Y/N,” Carrie says, nervously. ��Sit up against Matty, come on, huh?” you lean against Matty, head clearing now that there’s fresh air in your system.

Your eyes focus on Clarisse.

Except she’s not anywhere near you, she’s 10 feet away, punching Nicky so hard you’re surprised he’s still standing.

Carrie cringes. “Okay, maybe don’t look at that.”

But you’re sort of entranced by her. She’s not outwardly angry, her face reveals nothing- just a mask of hard, unrelenting focus. It should scare you, how much concentration she puts into her deadly punches, blood flying with each hit she lands. Her knuckles are red, his face is a mess, but it’s exhilarating to know she would do this for you.

A sickening crack rents the air. “My fucking nose, fuck, fuck, screw you, you fucking bitch! Fuck-”

The smallest smile creeps it way onto her face. She wipes her mouth, leaving blood on her lips- but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“I can keep going!” she shouts back, grabbing his shirt. “You wanna do that shit? I’m only getting started. I’m gonna throw you around, then I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

“Wait! Wait, okay, wait, shit,” he breathes, holding his hands up in surrender. Blood pours from his nose, down to her hand bunched in his shirt. He’s taller than her, yet he’s surrendering.

“You’re pathetic,” she hisses, pushing him back. He hits the ground with a groan, trying to grab for a rock, a sword, anything to defend himself against Clarisse and her fury.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

One of the reasons why she does is because she gets to let out all her anger. She looks at you, but not in your eyes- she looks at the wound on your arm. You can see the red pouring out of the corner of your eye- but you choose to ignore it, instead focusing on the way the fire inside of her gets relit at the sight of your blood. She has plenty reason to be angry now.

She grabs her spear, sauntering over to him, laughing at the way he can’t even try to get up.

“So fuckin’ stupid,” she smiles, tilting her head. Then the tip of her spear is pointing right at his neck, she’s standing over him the way he did to you. “How’s it feel?” she smiles.

He coughs, hissing in pain.

“I’m scared, Clarisse, okay? You got your fucking revenge, but it wasn’t me.”

She laughs, loud and boisterous. “I just saw you cut her, dumbass. I really should kill you, just as a favor to the world.”

“Paid me,” he coughs. “Drachmas, in exchange for hurting your girlfriend-”

She presses the blade against his throat, he yells out.

“Who?”

He stays silent.

“Who?!” she yells, kicking his stomach.

“Nelson!” he screams. “Nelson! Nelson paid me, please, Clarisse-”

She moves the blade away, and he hisses- she probably just barely drew blood.

“I’m not done yet,” she whispers, deadly promise dripping from her words. She turns around, fades out of focus for a second, and then she’s right next to you.

Her hands are cupping your face, she looks sick, seeing you like this up close- but all she does is kiss your forehead. Like you, she doesn’t want to look at your flesh and blood.

“I’m here, I’m here, oh, fuck. Gods, what the fuck,” she mumbles, looking very pointedly away from the wound, finally seeing how bad it is up close.

“Clarisse.”

“I know,” she whispers, smoothing your hair back. “I know, baby, I know, but it’s gonna be okay.”

Danny runs into the clearing, shouting “just over here” while healers follow him, immediately groaning at the smell of blood, the sight of it.

Clarisse switches places with Matty, holding you against her, kissing your head again and again, muttering about how brave you are.

You almost laugh at the odd looks the Apollo kids give her, unused to seeing the big bad Clarisse so soft. But they just don’t know her like you do. She doesn’t love them like she loves you.

One of them starts to clean the blood, and your eyes drift shut as the other starts to mend your skin back together.

—-

You wake up with familiar curly hair in your face.

You spit it out, groaning, mouth feeling fuzzy, everything feelings fuzzy.

“Clarisse?” you mumble, eyes not even open, but you wake up with that hair in your mouth everyday, and you’ve memorized the weight of her arm around your waist.

She sits up immediately, jumping out of bed, standing up and fixing her messy hair like someone’s gonna be there.

“Um, hello? I was speaking, crazy girl.”

“Oh, thank Gods,” she mumbles, blowing hair out of her face and sitting back down. “Thought we got caught.”

You look at her, then your surroundings-

“Oh, holy shit,” she says, staring at you like a deer in headlights. “Wait, you’re awake. You’re awake!”

She throws her arms around you, burying her face into your neck, reverberating with the sound of your laughter.

“You make it sound like I’ve been in a coma for 10 years.” Your heart drops. “Have I… been asleep for a while?”

“Um,” she says, softly, biting her lip as she extricated herself from your neck. “Capture the flag was yesterday, so… no.”

“So you’re just being dramatic?”

“Possibly,” she smiles. “It’s not my fault you’ve taken over my entire brain.” She shows her bruised knuckles, split open, already starting to scab. “I said not to fix ‘em up. They don’t hurt that bad, and they look fucking cool.”

You grab her hands, relieved it’s only been a day, kissing the rough scabs. She blushes, although she tries her best not to, breathing in deeply.

“How are you feeling, baby?”

You look towards your totally healed arm, finally realizing that you know have full control of your hands, unlike yesterday. It’s wrapped in a bandage for precautions, but it feels totally healed.

“All good,” you smile.

“You gotta take it real easy for the next week or so, yeah?” she fusses, brushing hair behind your ear. “So you call me, or one of my siblings, anyone to help you with anything. No lifting heavy stuff, don’t do anything too fast- you might tear the healing.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll carry me around like a princess?” you giggle, laying back, inviting her into your arms. She gets back under the covers, head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Practical. Very safe.”

You hit her shoulder. “I’m joking.”

“Eh, I’ll change your mind.”

You smile, running your hands through her hair, enjoying the early mornings with her warmth against you, soft sunlight peeking through windows.

She sits up after a moment, laying her head back on the pillow, arm back around your waist. She just sits there for a moment, you can feel her admiring you. Clarisse doesn’t look at you. She traces your face with her eyes, imagining it was her hands, her lips, she admires you like she sees a reverence in your eyes that has nothing to do with your godly parent.

“Can you promise me something?” she asks, whispering softly, even though you’re the only two people around.

“What?” you say, staring at the ceiling, feeling like you might fall back asleep.

“Don’t get hurt. Like, ever again, please.”

You smile. “Okay, baby,” you mumble.

“I’m serious,” she smiles, nudging your cheek with her nose. “I… I was really scared. And I don’t like to feel that way, especially when it comes to you. I was angry, too. I was so fuckin’ angry I’m surprised I didn’t kill him. You can’t get hurt like that, not again, you just gotta let me protect you. Or else I might actually kill someone, Y/N.”

“I know,” you mumble. “I watched you.”

“Did I scare you?” she asks, voice soft. There’s no hint of your loving, smiley Clarisse in this bed right now. She’s worried, as if she could ever scare you.

“No,” you say, honestly. “It’s sweet how far you’re willing to go for me.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “You better like it. Do you know what I got for that? Eight months no dessert. Five months cleaning the fuckin’ stables.”

You barely hide your laugh. “Oh, my Gods, are you serious?”

“Yes,” she grumbles. “But, I’ve decided it’s fine. You’re my loving girlfriend, right? You can sit there all pretty so I have something to look at when I’m cleaning. And you’ll share your dessert with me, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, turning your head. “I will.”

“I really love you. My perfect pretty princess,” she jokes, smiling lopsidedly, and you return it. “You’ll let me protect you, and maybe I can get some decent sleep at night, huh?”

When she presses her hand to your face and her lips to yours, you think nothing could possible ruin this moment. It’s just you and her, and everything that’s beautiful.

“You always protect me, Clar,” you smile.

She smiles, lips grazing yours. This is your Clarisse. The one who smiles just for you, who puts her rough hand softly against your face. This is your Clarisse, the one who would do anything for you, the one who wants to carry you around, the one who wants to protect you and hold you and never let anyone fuck with her baby.

The door slams open, someone is laughing boisterously, another person is groaning in pain, and a familiar voice is shouting your names.

“Clarisse! Y/N! Clarisse, Clarisse! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Danny shouts, dragging out the last syllable of your name. He jumps onto the bed by your feet, even when Clarisse frowns, looking at you like a puppy dog who’s just brought a dead bird to your doorstep.

And as you look at the scene behind you, Nelson being laid on another bed, Carrie being helped into the corner- laughing hysterically, knuckles split open.

Nelson’s face is practically unrecognizable.

You suppose Danny really did bring something unsavory like a dead bird, dropping it right at your feet.

“So, we all woke up right?”

Your eyes whip to Danny, shocked as he know launches into a story about Carrie waking up to Nelson saying he hadn’t been called to the Big House yet, maybe he would get away from it- but swiftly received punishment in the form of Carrie’s fists. With Clarisse in your bed, no one had the guts to stop them, and they fought for what must have been 10 minutes- Nelson very obviously losing.

“And, now we’re here,” Danny sighs, breathing out after his long and embellished rant. “But you’re awake, Y/N!”

He looks at your skeptically- specifically, at your arm.

“Can I hug you?”

“Oh,” you smile, your heart twisting with such a fondness for this wonderful little kid. “Of course you can, Danny,” you smile, opening your arms wide.

“Yes, just be careful,” Clarisse cautions, her arm around your waist. “Watch the arm, huh?”

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse,” you mumble, breath messing his hair.

“He’s 11.”

“Baby,” you reinforce, squeezing him tighter.

“Y/N… you’re crushing me,” he groans.

“Oops,” you say, letting him go. “You’re just too cute,” you coo.

Clarisse scoffs from next to you. You smile, kissing her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Scary, dangerous. Not cute, though.”

She hums. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Carrie walks over, sporting her split knuckles, also opting to let them heal naturally like Clarisse. She shows them off with a wide smile, even as Nelson screams in the background when they reset his nose.

Matty rubs his temples.

You smile, looking around at your very dysfunctional, very awkward, but loving family-adjacent.

“Hey, did we end up winning the game?” you ask.

Clarisse snorts. “Oh, nah. Without us, they were lost. Who cares, though?”

“Yeah, I liked beating Nelson up much more than I would have liked winning,” Carrie smiles.

“Next time,” Danny starts, “Can I lead again?”

Clarisse squints at him. “…Maybe.”

You wink at him, nodding subtly.

“Okay!” he smiles.

Clarisse kisses your forehead.

“I love you, pretty baby,” she mumbles.

You smile. “I love you too, scary baby.”

—-

clarisse when she sees y/n get hurt: oh so the only natural response to to THROW A FUCKING SPEAR AT SOMEONE

appreciation for the fact she threw it from like really far away and just tore through his armor likkkkeeee

nelson and nicky sitting in the infirmary together hugging each other terrified clarisse and carrie are going to come back for more

nicky does not sleep at night anymore SHE SAID SHE WASNT DONE

—-

shout out to my baby danny he carried this fic fr

shoutout to y/n for getting WRECKED so we could have this beautiful moment w clarisse

shoutout to matty for being his beautiful self

shoutout to carrie for being her violent self

and finally shoutout to clarisse for being overprotective and insane

—-

clarisse after she actually convinced y/n to let her carry her around everywhere: 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

bitch is so happy…

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Brittle is Devotion

♡ featuring: ex-husband!toji x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been a while since you've seen your ex-husband, and on a drunken night, buried feelings emerge. wc: 12.2k+ (bruhhh)

♡ cw/tw: mentions of violence/blood, angst/comfort, rekindled feelings, rough sex, missionary, prone bone, full-nelson, overstimulation, cervix fucking, creampie, m/f receiving, throat fucking, sadism/masochism, dom/sub dynamics, squirting, fingering, praise/degredation kink, dumbification, edging, breeding kink, feral toji mmm, pet names (angel, sweetie, baby)

notes: good morning!! hope everyone is having a lovely day, i am so so so so sorry i haven't posted in so long i didnt abandon the account!! i've just been getting it together before the semester starts, and i didnt expect for it to be this long :(( im very tired but ill try to get some stuff out in the next couple of weeks, most likely long fics too. ty so much, and srry for any spelling mistakes. art by ilameys_ on ig! &lt;;3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Picking up the pieces after Toji is rough. The divorce was bad enough, and you currently have an aching pain stilling in your chest that makes it hard to take the shallowest breaths. It hammers in the tight confines of your ribcage, and as you sob into your pillow the only relief you desire is sleep, so that you may have temporary solace from the grief wrecking your brain. Your new apartment feels entirely too shallow. There’s no crumby television to use because you were too broke to afford the higher-end appliances, or that creaking mattress you both squeezed into until you could thrift a reasonable headboard. You missed the 60s style tiles painted a horrific green in your kitchen, and the shower that ran out of hot water every other day. It was terrible, downright unlivable for most, but you had each other.  

It hurts more because you love him. So much. Unbearably, to the point where you screamed at the top of your lungs until your throat scratched through angry hot tears, begging him to care for a moment, to give you a reason to stay. Countless times, threatening to walk out if he didn’t endeavor to change. But he never believed you. He thought you’d never leave, because all you had was him.  

And it was true, for years it was. Toji was your dream man; funny and thoughtful. It wasn’t conventional kindness, but it was his. Money didn’t matter—even as you enjoyed a frozen meal on the floor of your empty apartment in the first couple months of moving in with him, you had a smile on your face. Even when your friends and family begged you not to marry him, because they couldn’t stand the sight of him and his arrogant, sometimes aggressive candor, you went on with it anyway. You knew who he really was at heart.  

He was your first everything, you felt if he left, you’d melt to nothing and become a shell of who you once were, because Toji had become an extension of you. You waited for him to get home, had dinner, and slept through the outside commotion of cars and bar fights; his securing arm locked around you, hand cradling your head and legs intertwined. There was no one like him.  

He knew that and got greedy.  

To you, the change was fast, but it’d been spreading like a nasty mold for years. You’d sunk so deep you hadn’t noticed the drought until you reached the bottom. He taught you love, then pulled away; separated himself with additional shifts and pathetic excuses. In turn you punished yourself, showered him with heavier instances of love and endearment, and convinced yourself you needed to try harder. If the sex wasn’t daily, you gave him more. If he didn’t like the food, you learned how to be a better chef. If the house wasn’t clean, you scrubbed top to bottom. Wringing a tired towel, dry of sacrifice. Chasing after him until the soles of your feet blistered. Still, not a smidge of praise or approval came to fruition. When he did—which was rare—those peppered spaces ignited a lasting burn in your heart, keeping withering fire alive.  

Soon, those fleeting kisses and distant pauses weren’t enough, and he didn’t care enough to change. You’d plead and cry at his feet, and he’d scoff and walk past you.  

“We’ll talk about it later”, he’d say more often than not. You didn’t have the confidence to leave, and he consumed himself with whatever underground work he participated in, while you decayed in a declining marriage.  

A grimace on his face, laid back on the couch and looking at you expectingly, as if you would drop to your knees and service him in a heartbeat—but you did exactly that. And you were tired, utterly tired of pulling the emotional and mental leaden baggage on your own. It was heavy, and you were crushing yourself underneath it. You still loved him with every inch of your being, and you’d do it all for him, but it couldn’t be just you anymore. He came home one fateful night to you sitting at the dining table, spotlighted under the stark glass pendant lamp in your dark apartment, dejection that foreshadowed the unfortunate end.  

“Do you love me?” He gazed at your solemn face and scratched his head.  

“Mhm.”  

“Will you change?”  

“No.”  

That’s what you needed to hear. The next week, while he was at work, you gathered your clothes and measly possessions to leave. You sobbed the entire way through, shaking with uncertainty and fear of the unknown—unsure about a future without him. As you slid the dissolution of your marriage on the counter, the sudden reality made you unable to control your knees as you dropped to the floor, and tears spilled down your cheeks and freckled the papers. Luckily, Shoko was there to comfort you and help pack your things. The corners of that confinement spared a gentle, loving memory, and vitriol was left in its wake. Turning back to its hollowness for the last time, you imagined Toji, plopping onto the couch as he’d usually do to watch some late-night television show or going to bed. Like you weren’t there.  

Maybe you never mattered in the first place. 

It’s been a year since, and things are looking up for you. An opportunity surfaced in a field you were interested in applying for, and you miraculously got the job. Moving over a city helped you adjust to your new life—that, and a bottle of dark burning liquor. No matter how much you mindlessly typed at your computer or partied with coworkers, you couldn’t stomach the pit gorging through you, a hole that surfaced everything you’d been burying. 

You’re not prepared to face the forlorn mock of your bleached walls today. As you pry your eyes open, the flickering shimmers through your sheer curtain cast across unattended sheets, soothed by stuffed animals strung along the comforter. You reach for something that isn’t there in your groggy state—a gentle reminder that your morning would be just as empty as yesterday. 

Today isn’t any other; it’s what would’ve been your five-year anniversary. One year, of new beginnings and new friends. A year of solitude.  

You don’t bother slinking out of bed. The accumulation of tasks awaiting you is more daunting than the actual execution. In an attempt to regain control of your life, you established a healthy routine. It entails waking up at early hours to exercise and work on projects and meal prep, and ending your night early with extra exercise and skincare. It was amazing at first and quelled your sadness. What they didn’t inform you of, was the spectacle; the appearance and perception of perfection, and not the struggles or gradual burnout of maintaining that lifestyle. When the distraction died down, and work and social activities became a congealed, monstrous chore, you quickly resented those limp salads and vomit-inducing runs. 

You expel a loaded sigh and pull the covers over. 

The vibration of the phone buzzing on your stomach peels your eyes awake. You allow it to pass, but it rings again. From a frustrated exhale, your languid hands muster the strength to flip to its notification; Shoko’s calling.  

“Hello?” you mutter, fatigue caught in your throat. 

“Fuck, you sound like hell!” she replies. The repetitive clack of office keyboards and analog phones being slammed by stressed out coworkers distorts the background. Thank God I used my paid time off. 

“I love you too, Shoko.” 

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…you ok?” It’s much sweeter. Shoko has always been a supportive friend, perhaps bordering on too supportive. You cherish her motherly concern, and rather vulgar honesty. 

“Mm, I’ll manage.” 

“I can come over after work.” You flip onto your back, soaking in the mild sunlight. 

“S’alright, I’m sure you’re busy, and I might sleep in. Wallow in sorrow for a few hours.” Shoko drawls a dramatic groan and creaks back in her chair. 

“Nothing good comes out of feeling sorry for yourself. Go to the club or somethin’.” 

“‘N how’s that gonna help?” 

“Better than whining at home. Wear something sexy, look pretty and get laid. That’s how I get over shit.” 

“Mm, right. I don’t know if that’s gonna work” you giggle, toying with one of the ears on your stuffed bunny. 

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re the born-again Virgin Mary now. You know… if you want to get over ‘him’, you have to take the first step.” You can envision her air quotations. She treats his name as forbidden speech, and regularly refers to it in conversation as “he who shall not be named.” 

“Ugh, mother Shoko’s speaking.” 

“Listen, it may or may not work. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it is all I’m saying.” 

“Yea? Well, if he has a tiny dick, I’m blaming you.” 

“Nothing wrong with shellfish.” 

The last curl falls in place, and you follow it up with copious amounts of hairspray. Fanning your bathroom after a drawn out coughing fit, you get a good look at your figure in the mirror. The backless lacy black dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places and guides the detail sitting tight under your butt. It’s undoubtedly revealing, coupled with strappy heels and a dark cat eye.  

You walk past your vanity and pause at the messy jewelry box, riddled with remnants of Toji’s adoration. Sparkling varieties of heavy necklaces and rings and precious diamonds; ninety percent of your jewels were because of him. You’d asked if he stole the items he gifted you, and he’d come up with an elaborate sarcastic story about a jewelry heist he carried out, and how appreciative you should be. Buried underneath rested your engagement ring, a sparkling cut that crowded your entire finger. You couldn’t bring yourself to pawn it, opting to occasionally revel in its beauty before shoving it in a far corner with your feelings. 

Shoko wasn’t lying about how sexy you’d feel dolled up, and it shows in your confidence as you modeled around your bedroom, striking poses to no one. Your plushies weren’t very appreciative of the full-blown fashion show, but you hadn’t felt like this for a long while. Maybe it was about time you entered the dating scene. 

The entrance to Infinity appears as a run-down tacky club from an outdated era, and it’s easy to miss the multicolored flashes dotting the black tinted glass on each side. A few steps past the black and white checkered vestibule, and you get to experience the scale of a roaring, clashing club. It’s not half as lively on the outside; sweat dripping under twinkling lights of multicolor, bodies colliding and moving to the melodic sway of erratic music vibrating through the floor, freely drowning and expelling their insecurities, deepest struggles. It’s both welcoming and hopeless.  

A woman balances her shot glass as she gyrates against a stranger while another stumbles off the dance floor in a drunken stupor. The heat and screams are overstimulating, circulating around you. You consider withdrawing, especially since you held some reservations about partying solo. However, this is what you need, to get comfortable with doing things by yourself. 

So you down shots, two, three, burning of different varieties that heighten your body temperature and nerve. You throw back a mix of dark and white liquor, a dangerous combo that dizzies your vision and runs up an unfathomable tab you can't afford. The strangers accompanying you at the counter encourage you. No rational thoughts, let alone decision making, register in your alcohol-sodden mind. Like strings being fielded by a puppeteer, your legs move on their own to the dance floor.  

It’s hot. The blurring iridescence bends to produce shapes that make your fuzzy brain giggle for some odd reason. You’re moving in slow motion, and the world’s continuing at max speed. You don’t care either way. You’re light on your feet, and the music goads you to dance. Spinning, hands tangled between your locks traveling down the curve of your thighs, hearing the lyrics inside and out as if no one is watching. 

You dance with women and men alike, anyone willing to help you overlook your heartache. It’s floaty, an airiness that spills sober thoughts from cotton mouth and makes every touch electrifying. It’s in your legs and arms, your restless feet and fingers. You laugh hysterically, incomprehensibly, and switch to sadness in a heartbeat. These aimless bodies, just as lost as you, drinking to your despair. Was it worth the abyss tomorrow held, or the agonizing headache as a result? 

After those dances, mainly flailing efforts at rhythm, your head is barreling. You’re suffering from a heavy case of vertigo at the slightest turn, and your stomach’s riddled with knots. It hits you like a car crash, and you strive to stabilize yourself as bile fills your throat, cringing when you reluctantly swallow. A disorienting slurry of words and faces ask you things you cannot hear or see, and it suddenly becomes too real. 

In few sparse moments, your life plays before you in stop motion. From heaving over the toilet while a lady with long nails held your hair back, to knocking the drink out of someone’s hand on your way out. Now you’re walking on one heel and holding the other. You might’ve popped a nail if not for security holding the door open. They attempt to flag you, but you reply with a curt slurred “‘M fine.”  

You push your knees together, sitting on the corner of a curb. This isn’t how you expected the night to end. It’s pitch black beside street lamps, and awfully quiet in contrast to inside. Shivers ripple through you despite the persistent warmth pooling in your ears. You lean on a street lamp in the calm cold as people leave, probably running to participate in intimate affairs with their acquaintances. The gentle hand on a waist or shoulder forms a subconscious smile; young, passionate love blooming on a random night. 

And you burst into tears.  

Ugly tears streaming down your face in blobs that don’t stop no matter how much you wipe them, followed by deep sniffles. They smear across your phone while you search for a taxi app, and your cloudy eyes deceive you. 

You jolt when a hand brushes against your arm and turn to meet the foggy face of a man with stubble. You wipe your wet cheeks and lean further from him.  

“Hey baby, you alright?” The pet-name makes you shudder. You definitely don’t know him, and at this point there’s no one outside. 

“Wh’re you?” you garble. 

“Kusakabe. Where ya off to?” 

“Waitin’ for uh frien’” Your eyelids waver, failing to stay alert under the frightening stare burning holes through your skull.  

“A friend, huh…you gotta man?” he asks, stepping closer to you. You back away to the side of the light. 

“Go away.” You’re definitive, but he laughs as if it were the ridiculous request of a child. 

“I like that dress. You look hot.” His hand drags along the strap of your dress, but you nudge his hand.  

“Mm’get off me. N’don’ need your help.” He scoffs with offense, and as you go to leave, he grabs your wrist firm. 

“Relax. Tryna go home with someone tonight?” You’re trembling, tugging with as much force as you can muster in your punch-drunk state, but he doesn’t budge. 

“L’ve me alone” 

“Don’t be like that, baby. I’ll call a cab-” 

Whack! Your wrist goes limp, and the crunch and crack of flesh hitting concrete echoes. You sluggishly pan to him, knocked out cold beyond the spotlight. The influence takes you, however, and you nearly find yourself joining him on the sidewalk. Before you can fall, a broad, rough hand supports your lower back. Their deep gritty tone is inches away from you. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” 

You rise from an unusually sweet slumber. The light shines through your eyelids, unavoidable even when you maneuver the velvety warm blanket for shade. Your eyeballs shift across thin skin being prodded by intrusive sun, and as they crack open, you catch a glimpse of the glass coffee table in front of you, arranged with perfection resembling a furniture showroom. You smile to yourself half-asleep, wondering when you bought such an expensive item, and how an abundance of sunlight made its way through your average window. You’re drifting off anew. 

Then, you shoot up. 

You start to really take in the surroundings, and when you do, a pit drops in your stomach. An ultra-wide flat screen television faces you, decorated with plants on either side. Craning your neck, the long windows of this penthouse line the adjacent wall up to the ceiling, which hangs a glass geometric chandelier. This isn’t your bedroom, nor your apartment.  

 Instantly you switch to sitting, and recoil just as fast. Pain envelops the wrinkles of your brain, and you wince from abrupt tension. You palm the bridge of your nose. 

“Fuck” you whisper. Last night replays in your head through staccato bursts, though you couldn’t remember the minutes before you passed out. Embarrassment creeps onto your ears at the freak show you performed hours ago. You’d made a fool of yourself, puked and tripped like a sloppy drunk college girl. You can’t be more ashamed, and to top it off, you’re in the house of a stranger you possibly slept with. You look down from the smooth sectional sofa, and notice your heels arranged neatly beneath you with your phone and bag. At the very least, the man you engaged with seems to be accommodating.  

You scurry to put your heels on, and hopefully sneak out in silence before you face further humiliation. Something about this blanket smells familiar; musk and oakmoss and man, grazing across your nose like the aroma in an intimate embrace, the earthy dew of calm before a storm, a trace only you can understand. 

“Finally up?”  

It’s that gravelly smoky voice you lived in for five years, and some before that. The voice you fell asleep to, mumbling nonsense in your ear through boorish snores. The voice you fell in love with, easily saying “I do” when you wedded at the courthouse. The voice you resent, saying nothing at all when you cried. 

You look behind you, and there he is, walking down the staircase. He’s wearing boxers, settled under the tufts of hair running down his belly button. His rugged muscles peek out from the untied black robe dangling to his strong calves. His hair grew out a bit since you’ve last seen him, shaggy bedhead running across his eyes and covering his ears. 

He smirks the same, though, sweet and soft for such a dour man, like nothing ever happened, approaching you while you sneer at the cruel joke bestowed upon you. 

“Toji.” You haven’t said it in forever. It’s abashing how quickly your regularly tense shoulders relax in his proximity.  

“How ya feelin’? Hope the couch was comfortable enough, figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in my bed” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched his sturdy back.  

“It was fine.”  

There's an awkward quiet afterwards. The air’s thick, glass straining under pressure, threatening to give way at the smallest disturbance. 

Toji clears his throat. “So, um...you need somethin’? Water?” 

“No” you bark, folding your arms across your chest. You can’t look at him, not without feeling enraged. You’re the afterthought, the chaser, rushing after a man who wouldn’t dare look twice. “How’d you even know I was there?” 

“Coincidence” he replies, and you scoff. He couldn’t get away with lying to you; playing games with moves you’ve lost to countless times. 

“Like hell it was a coincidence. I’m in a completely different city now, what were you doing there?” You have to physically bite back the words begging to spill from your mouth as his head wanders in thought, possibly concocting another fabrication. 

“Had business” 

“Oh, I’m supposed to believe the man who hates keeping a job had ‘business’. Okay.” You don’t acknowledge the extravagance of the apartment he must be paying for monthly. That, or a chain of illegal activities—whatever assumption suited your irritation in the moment. 

“Well, ya wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said, anyway” he chides. You’re a shaken bottle ready to explode, and his nonchalant demeanor only eggs you on. Toji’s perpetually dismissive, looking down on you like a pitiful puppy. 

“Because you’re always full of shit” you snap. He exerts a loaded sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he had any right to be tired of the situation. 

“’M not lyin’.” 

“Right.” You observe your surroundings more. It’s too opulent, pricey vases you wouldn’t expect from the ex-husband that once thought hanging jackets in the doorway was “decoration.” Definitely not fit for a single guy. You’re separated, and you know it's not your responsibility to keep tabs on his sex life, but that caviling thought won’t stop taunting you. How could he get over it so soon?  

“If you were just gonna bring me back to your fuck pad, I should’ve slept on the curb. Who knows how many girls you’ve had here.” 

He gets eye-level, sitting on the coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together like a drained salaryman, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t be serious. Like you never do anything wrong, like everything that’s happened until now is somehow my fault and you did nothing, nothing, to contribute to the bullshit. Stop acting like a fucking victim.” 

“Little lady, you got shitfaced, and some guy was tryna take your drunk ass home. You’re lucky you went home with me instead.” 

“I could’ve handled it; I don’t need you for anything-” 

“You could barely keep your eyes op-” 

“I would’ve handled it! Just like I handle everything else. Alone. Every time. It gets done, I’m not incompetent, Toji!” 

You could hear a pin drop in the stillness. Those forested eyes are gazing into your soul. It’s said and done, and you’ve got it off your chest, yet it hurts like a freshly sliced gash. The arguing doesn’t change, married or not. It sucks when you shout, uncontrollable like a blazing fire, only to be snubbed out by his calm, condescending tone. 

“...I know.”  

You can’t take it, it’s stifling being near him. Wounds loosely covered by band aids seem to peel at his presence, and you’re stuck at his mercy again. You can’t give him the satisfaction of crying in addition to the drunk, poor decisions you made, hardening your expression as you fumble for your phone. 

“Take me home” you demand. Toji stands with an exaggerated stretch on both arms, painfully slow. Before you can hurl your phone at him from the dramatics, he looks down on you with that intoxicating gaze. 

“Are ya hungry?” 

You furrow your brows, and hastily put on the other shoe. Turning on your heels, you go to leave, and are immediately stopped by Toji's calloused hand holding your wrist. You don’t watch, but his palm is gentle. You could smoothly slip out and exit his apartment, forget this engagement and continue a peaceful, isolated life. You’d move on eventually—perhaps to bigger, happier jobs and romances. 

 Despite that hopeful outcome, you remain.  

“I don’t wanna eat. If you don’t take me home, I'll call a cab.” 

“I’ll take ya home, just...look, I know you’re hungry, and I’m down to eat at a diner down the block. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll pay for it.” Toji isn’t known for being docile, but with his curved posture almost leaning into you and dejection in his eyes, you swear he’s searching for pity. 

“I said I’m not-,” The untimely arrival of your dinning, rumbling stomach cuts off any excuse. A corner of his mouth upturns, and your face contorts to scorned pride. 

“...Fine. Let’s make it quick.” 

“Great. Can’t have ya walkin’ around like that, though.” He pans to your chest. You haven’t thought to give your outfit a glance, but when you do, your eyes grow wide. The entirety of your conversation with Toji, your chest was spilling out the dress, and now part of your areolas is exposed. You cover up the top, but he stares with an x-ray's invasiveness. You reprimand him, swatting his chest; 

“Pervert!” 

There was an added benefit to being around Toji; the way people cleared a path for him and treated him with frightened kindness, afraid that pissing off the physically intimidating man would land them a one-way ticket to the nearest hospital.  

They weren’t exactly wrong, and you have a satisfied pep in your step as people scoot aside. He strides in front of you to get the door, and you mutter a small “thank you.”  

Sweet fluffy pancakes and charred grills mingle with faint notes of bleach. At least he knew better than to take you to a fancy establishment, especially since you were wearing a baggy t-shirt from him, and basketball shorts you had to tie around the waistband. His massive slides had you flopping across the dining aisle as you got to your booth. He’s not particularly dressed either, wearing matching shorts and a compression top. 

It’s hard not to perceive the way women ogle him, drooling at the way his biceps flex when he raises the menu, and his chiseled jaw tensing while he ponders the food options. It was a notable problem when you were married. They’d glare at you, shower him with compliments in front of you, and you’d shrink yourself. Occasionally the waiter would pretend you don’t exist as she swayed her hips at every little thing Toji said. If they want him, they can have him. It’s not your business, right? It’s no different with this waiter, twirling the curl of her hair as Toji reiterates his order, shifting from one leg to the other to highlight her curves.  

Not my business. You're nauseous.  

Not my business. Your fists clench underneath the table. 

Your head’s swimming in thoughts, uncertainty crashing down like a wave upon your increasingly loud intrusions. You drown within yourself, until you’re pulled out by a thumb travelling up your hand, and other fingers clasping around it. 

“Watcha wanna order, angel?” You regain composure, and when you blink, Toji is waiting for you. The waiter side-eyes you and the joining of your hands.  

“You lost? Take her order” he spat. 

The food's steaming hot and fresh, and you salivate at the plate in front of you. Toji snatches your bacon before you can, and you begrudgingly watch as he breaks the strips into two pieces, the way you like it. He winks, and you groan. You coat your strawberry pancakes with maple syrup, trespassing territory around the scrambled eggs and bacon, and he laughs across from you. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Never stopped drowning your breakfast in syrup” he ribs. You pout and swirl your bacon, “It makes it taste better.” 

Soon, food in your belly aided your dialogue, and the old banter returned; an easygoing flow, similar to a lifelong friend you hadn’t spoken to in decades. You giggle between bites and gossip about mutual rumors. 

"What you been doin’ since..." Toji trails off, falling short of “divorce”—a word he never wants to say. 

"Shoko recommended me to her boss, so I'm working uptown now. Pay's okay, nothing to write home about."  

"S'good. Livin comfortable?"  

"As comfortable as I can be"  

"Real humble. Guessin’ it's better than before" he jokes, though you sense a displace in his bearing at the nervous grin he flashes. You reach onto to his side and grab one of the grapes off his plate. You pop one in your mouth, "So, what drug ring got you that house?"  

"The cartel. Good vacation time, too" he jests. 

"Nice. at least it's not that shitty garbage gig you had for a while."  

"It did pay well."  

"Yeah? Couldn't get rid of the rotten milk and vomit smell for weeks after. Remember I made you shower at Geto’s apartment?" 

“Heh, yeah, he was fuckin’ pissed” he laughs, stealing a piece of sugary bacon from the syrup pool. "I'm a CEO, run a company downtown."  

"Ooo, look at you. Can't be little if it did this much for you" you say as you gesture at the empty dishes on the table. Restaurants were a luxury in your household. 

"I guess. I had a vision, and some people believed in me”, he pokes at the leftover blueberries, “I finally made it happen, that counts for something, right?"  

You pick another off his plate, smile stretching, "You're a natural born leader. People will follow you regardless, even if it's not the right choice."  

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "That's the first good thing you said about me today."  

"Don't get used to it." 

You wait for Toji to retrieve his car after walking back to his apartment. You’re awestruck in many ways; he paid for the whole meal with a black card and showed undying manners. He bowed to your requests. You’re smarter than this, though. This is his opportunity to get on your good side, and he’s showing the best version of himself. However, it fills your heart with want—like the initial dating phase, those butterfly stricken, heart-numbing, sappy gestures that made you melt.  

He wraps around the car to open your door, and you plant yourself in the sleek beige interior. Your eyes flick to the veins in his forearm straining as he steers, his deadpan focused expression and the composed R&B music low in the background. It starts to drizzle, and raindrops plink the car roof. 

You feel complete; And that alone is a dreadful reality. 

The scar on his lip twists to a smile, “Did’ya like the food?”  

You turn your nose up, “it was satisfactory.” He snickers, and navigates to the street your apartment is on. “Shit, I gotta give you your clothes back.” 

“Forget it, bring it when you get the chance.” Chance. He expected to see you again. You hang your head as he approaches the complex. You didn’t want today to end, but this is it. You’ll leave this car and go your separate ways. This is how it should be.  

You place an earnest hand on his shoulder and cast a smile. The corners quiver and your first syllable wobbles, but you finally speak, “I’m proud of you, Toji. I mean it. You’re going to do great things, and I’m always rooting for you.”  

He swallows stiff, and suddenly he’s sickly pale. Something within you is pleased at that reaction; if he wants redemption, he should beg and drop to his knees and crawl for forgiveness, he should lock himself up for your eyes only and cut off everyone else in his life. You’re walking away a second time, rightfully so, but you struggle to decipher what you want in this moment. He palms your hand, staring at you, “I’m all for praise, but tell me when we meet again” 

“Toji, there can’t be a next- “ 

“Give me your phone.” 

“Huh?” His urgency throws you off guard, “Don’t think, just give me your phone.” It’s impossible to kill the complicated slurry that is your mind, and a new bundle of thoughts emerges from his request, but for a heartbeat, you allow yourself to wander. Pitter patter and muted music, heated seats, the cologne radiating from Toji—all that exists. 

 You moved on instinct, and now your phone is in Toji’s hands. He's adding his contact information. He hands it back to you, fingers brushing against your soft skin.  

“I won’t text or call you. ’S there whenever you need me. Move at your own pace and call me when you’re ready.” With that, you exit his car. No hug or gratitude, skipping goodbyes as you rush out the car. It’s bittersweet when he pulls off, and you’re left with the ghost of him.  

The familiar click of your convoluted keys in the apartment door could bring you to tears. You’ve officially reverted to your mundane, boring lifestyle. The walls look duller today. 

You curiously click on his contact, and giggle at the name he assigned himself: 

dumbass ex 

tick, tock, tick, tock 

The blue light beaming through your office computer is an eyesore, but you have little say in the matter. There's an upcoming deadline for these reports, you can’t waste precious skill complaining about circumstances out of your control. It’s tiresome, and you rove to the cobweb missing a string in the corner of the room, or the single drop of water roaming outside those wide sterile windows. The balls of your feet carry your flats as you absentmindedly push a pen against your lip. 

Your concentration has been out of commission since meeting Toji. He kept his word and hadn’t called you whatsoever. A month passed, and still nothing. Be glad, you told yourself, get your goals back on track. Your exercises get vicious, from jogging to a full sprint, hoping that those buckets of sweat will shed off the extra weight of Toji’s abidance. The fruit bowl on your break offends you with mocking displays of strawberries and grapes. You’ve pondered deleting the contact entirely to repel enticement, but you can’t do it. It’s painfully clear that you miss him. 

He’s horrible, callous and selfish. Of course, Toji had a way of showing up at your lowest to fill your head with empty promises and gestures of affection, that charming grin shooting daggers at your weakness. In his gaze, you’re defenseless, and in his arms, you’re exposed.  

Albeit late, a pestering thought carves into you, unfortunate and disgraceful to the healing you strive to accomplish; message Toji. 

A set of wheels rolls above the carpet, and you see Shoko, lifeless arms hanging beyond the armrests. The bags under her eyes signify stress from finalizing late papers.  

“Unnghhhh, (Y/N), I can’t do it” she laments, drooping her head to the side. You pat the top of her hair, “I believe in you.” 

“What are you working on?” She quirks a brow, and you stare at the screen with her. You’ve typed an entire page of straight gibberish. “I’m getting distracted too...” 

“Let’s quit and tell her to shove it.” 

“You know I can’t do that” you fuss as you backspace the document. “Mm, me neither. What’s got you zoned out?” 

“Nothing in particular.” You’re afraid to tell Shoko of your rendezvous, she might become volcanic and fire magma at the sound of any “-oji”. 

“I know it’s not nothing. New boyfriend, hm?” 

“S-something like that” you chuckle. She shapes an ‘O’ with her mouth, and wheels closer. Her bangs touch your eyebrows, and she rests her chin on her hand. Her usual dead eyes have a malicious twinkle in them. 

“What’s he like? Is he tall or short?” she gasps, “did you meet him at the club? I told you it was a good idea; I really am the best advisor.” 

You sigh, “It’s no one new.” 

“Ooo, an old flame. Spicy. What’s his name?” You turn slowly, a nervous bite on your lips. She studies your face, and slowly hers drops. 

“Do not fucking say it.” 

“Shokoooo” you whine, searching for sympathy from her. Instead of that, your body is shaken violently as she whisper-yells, “Are you kidding? Get a grip! What’s gotten into you, you were fine!” 

“But I wasn’t. It sucks, I feel lonely all the time.” 

“You felt lonelier with him than without him!” 

“I know, but...” You ball your lips in with furrowed brows, and she holds her breath. 

“I wanna go see him” you squeak. Instantly, she squishes your cheeks with both hands to hold you in place. 

“Absolutely. Fucking. Not.” 

At home, you pace back and forth in front of the phone resting on your bed. Toji’s contact is open, and nausea is brewing in your stomach. You’re giddy and ill, working up the courage to press “call”. You really should be practicing Shoko’s advice, but you’ve long surpassed common sense. You leave and come back, spying on it from a distance. Eventually, you forgo the theatrics and grab the phone to hit the messenger app. 

Three dots vanish and resurface. You can’t get it right:

'Hey stranger I got custody of ur clothes rn' 

'Hey haha I missed u can I come over?' 

'Yo what’s up? Still have ur clothes do u want them?' 

'I’m coming to give u ur stinky clothes' 

This shouldn’t be complicated, and you don’t usually perform the process of elimination for simple responses, but it’s Toji. You’re scrambling and overanalyzing, reiterating your choice of slang only to delete it all over again. You settle for a simple message. “Hey Toji, I wanted to return your clothes. Let me know when you’re available. Thanks”  

Once you hit send, you run a marathon around your bedroom, tippy tapping to expel your anticipation. The churning grows as seconds pass, and so does your doubt. You tiptoe to the phone as if a displaced floorboard would activate the alarm. You’re about to tap the screen, and then your ringtone plays.   

Oh god. 

You take a deep breath and swipe right on the faceless profile picture labeled “dumbass ex”.  

“…Hello?” 

“Hey, angel.” You avoid a dull pound in your chest at the memorable pet name. “So, um-“  

“I wanna see you. I’m available now, and I’ll be home by the time you get here” he states, direct and confident. His conviction validates yours, you bend to his direction. 

“Okay then. I’ll start getting ready.” 

“I’ll send a cab to your address. See you soon.” When he hangs up, you dive into the pile of plushies. Squeezing them for emotional support, kicking your feet in the air as you scream into your ruffled pillows like a girl’s first crush. You have a long night ahead of you. 

You access Toji’s building. He must’ve notified them you were coming, as the doors were open upon arrival, and a bellhop was sent to guide you to his floor. You’re standing outside of it, clothes and a bottle of champagne in hand. Your stretchy maxi dress clings to your figure, complimenting the juicy shade of lip gloss you’re wearing—the shade he loved most on you during your marriage. You ring the bell, and it doesn’t take long before he opens the door. The scene you’re exposed to swells heat between your legs. 

Toji has nothing but a towel shimmied low on his hips, v-line adorned with veins and biceps corded with muscle. He’s trimmed his hair since your last encounter, and it’s dripping wet along with the rest of his soaked body. You’ve interrupted his shower apparently, but he didn’t hesitate to rush to the door, water cascading from the raven veil, sluicing down his sculpted chest. He had to have done this on purpose, but you weren’t complaining at this point; he looked damn good doing it. You can’t disengage from the beads branching amid his pecs and through his happy trail. God, you wish you were water personified right no- 

“You’re staring, dollface” he teases with a smirk. Your eyes snap to his, and you remember to breathe. You clumsily hold up the liquid peace offering, “Brought a little something.” 

“Thanks. Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna get dressed.” You nod, and he marches upstairs. You don’t need comfortability; you need to be in and out of here before you do something you’ll regret.  

But...is that cedarwood and vanilla? The interior gives off romantic energy at night, attractive dim lighting throughout and dull flickering pops of his fireplace in the living room. You find the source of that heavenly scent sitting on his kitchen island, and awkwardly place the bottle down. You don’t know what to do with yourself, more so you don’t know what to say. It’s hard to recite a script when things aren’t going according to plan. Did you want to apologize, or force him to apologize? Maybe you should’ve cursed him out, rehashed his asshole behavior from the past until he drowned in guilt. You want to kiss and slap him, cry in his arms until your voice gives out and disappear all at once.  

There’s a beautiful clear vase in the center, crammed with your favorite flowers, and your fingers dance across the petals. “You like ‘em?” he asks stepping into the kitchen. His hair’s still saturated, but he’s sporting grey sweatpants and a black ribbed tank top. “They’re very pretty.” 

“They’re for you.” 

You switch between his playful expression and the burst of colors, “You don’t have to do that.” The bouquet evokes recollections of heated arguments—anytime he’d angered you to tears, and you slammed that bedroom door in his face, you always woke up to similar flowers on the floor. They were cheap, but it meant more than money; because despite the fights and disagreements, it let you know that he’d love you regardless. 

“I wanted to. As thanks for bringing my clothes.” He’s pacing towards you, and you’re bound to the floor like melting wax. His gaze is captivating, and you’re entranced by the verdurous ardor that won’t deter from you. 

“Thank you”, you say as he looms above you and inspects the scripture on the pale bottle. His large thumb blocks the intricate lettering he’s trying to read, “I should be thanking you. Didn’t think you’d ever message me.” 

You can feel the body heat radiating off him, the airy words as he mouths the contents. His eyebrows furrow to follow his focus, while you lose yours.   

“I-I should probably get going-” Without delay, Toji blocks your side with an iron grip on the island, trapping you in the confines of his broad wingspan. 

“Leaving so soon? You got plans tonight?” Saying and doing are completely different stories, and from the way your feet haven’t moved, you aren’t in a rush to go anywhere. 

“Not really, but I worked today and I’m kinda tired-”  

“Then what better way to unwind than with a bottle? I can’t drink this by myself, might as well keep me company” he suggests, persuasion to a greater extent when your lower back hits the bar. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, right? 

“I guess I can stay for a few minutes.” Toji flashes a victorious toothy grin and retrieves cups from the sink cupboard. He gives you a rounded glass, and his muscles flex below candlelight as he maneuvers the cork at an angle. 

“Let’s crack this open” he says, popping the cap off and pouring a substantial amount of golden fizz into both cups. 

Toji raises his glass, “A toast.” 

You tilt your head but raise yours as well. “To what?” 

“Us.”  

Us is a funny thing—with enough effort, it becomes you and I just as quickly as it formed. You don’t know if you’re willing to accept the responsibility of eternity. The devastation of commitment could damage you forever. There’s no us, but there’s you and him. So, you clink your glass, “To us,” and his eyes never leave yours as he takes a swig. It lasts a lifetime among longing breaths and unsaid words. 

He brings the champagne to the living room, “I’ll turn on a movie. You know that cheesy romcom shit you used to watch? They made a sequel.” You fall flat on containing your excitement. He grabs the remote and lays back with his thighs spread apart.  

Toji pats the couch, “Come sit. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” You hardly believe that, but you remove your heels and relax upon overstuffed cushions. You opt to sit farther on the couch, and there’s an annoyed twitch on his lip at your display of boundaries. Nevertheless, he starts the movie. 

Toji’s not particularly sneaky. He announces multiple bathroom breaks, returning to a spot on the couch that’s inconspicuous, but inching closer to you. The intent becomes clear when the ghost of his shoulder knocks against you, spreading his thighs wider to brush against the softness huddled into your snug figure. You’re half paying attention to the cliché performance, and half observing Toji. It’s hard not to smile when he behaves like a disobedient dog obligated to sit.  

It’s cute that he arced himself to be eye-level with you. His tank rode up to expose his lower abdomen, and he adjusts himself in his sweats, jaw occasionally clenching. It could be the drink talking, perhaps you’ve had too many.  

The movie ends, and you exhale a sigh of relief. “I forgot how corny this shit is.” 

Toji shrugs, “I didn’t think it was too bad.” 

“No way, you actually liked it?” you gasp. He huffs out his nose, smiling, “People change.” 

“I’m shocked” you quip. Dusk creeps into a descending sunset, and you steal a glance at your phone screen. Bright as day, a notification from Shoko emerges. “NO TOJI >:(" 

You’re stumped thinking of a reply, one that doesn’t compromise your less-than-ideal situation, when Toji puts his hand over the screen. “Hope I’m not gettin’ ya in trouble.” 

“Like you care.” He chuckles and slides it to the far side of the couch. “You’re right. Let’s watch another.” 

This next movie's decent; a flat racing plot with excessive sequels. He unleashes an exaggerated yawn, extending his triceps to land behind your head. You quirk a brow at him, and he plays innocent. “You look cold” he says. You don’t care as much as you pretend. His pads trace the shell of your burning ear down to the lobe, to fine hair at the end of your neck. His rough hand massages the back of your head, and you lull to his chest. Be it the champagne or his actions, it’s too hot for comfort. Clamping your thighs shut spurs the intensity. His other hand languidly tests the limits of your skin, gossamer touches from your knee to your thigh. It's asking, and when you don’t object, he invites the entire palm to your knee, rubbing delicately. He brings it to your upper thigh, and retreats to the outside, getting dangerously close to your rear. The worst part is it’s not that bad. It’s intimate. Warm. 

Loving. 

It takes you a minute to comprehend you’re tearing up, but Toji recognizes that hushed sniffle. Airy and choked, quiet as to not be a burden. He circles a hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He tilts your chin to his gaze, soft and deceptively gentle when he asks. 

“What’s wrong pretty, hm?” You say nothing through the constrains in your throat, streaking the tears that fall faster than you can wipe them. This man alone can reduce you to mush with a wave of his hand. He bares your rawest state and sculpts you back together with such purity, such devotion, that you’d plead for him to sink his clay sodden fingers into your nothing, and make you everything. 

“Tell me, and I’ll fix it.” 

You say just above a whisper, “You’re selfish, you know that?”  

“Mhm, I know” he nods, grazing his thumb across your lip. 

“This isn’t healthy for us; we can’t heal like this.” He angles your head with his half lidded gaze, polishing your damp undereyes.  

“I don’t need healing. I need you.” 

You find passage in his hair, and surrender to temptation. 

You test with a smooch. Then another. Then a series of tender, sugary kisses are pushed upon his pliant lips, and he responds in kind. You curl your fingers through his tresses as you explore the contours of his lips for what feels like the first time. Toji isn’t known for patience, but the sensation of his mildly dry lips getting smoother from your supple kisses gives him the will to savor this moment. You push and pull from each other, indulging in the messy smacks and caresses. You stop amid shared breaths to skim and nudge his yearning lips, diving into more hungry kisses. Toji abruptly lifts you over him, and you deepen its bruising passion.  

You lick his bottom lip, and he groans, parting his mouth to allow your entry. You traverse the pink mass, interlacing in a wet feverish exchange. Your mind is numb, and the heartbeat in your core strikes stronger when your tongues intertwine. Toji hikes your dress up and slinks his massive hands over the plush fat of your rear. He earns a muffled moan from you as he kneads and gropes, and you feel his smirk against your lips. He grips your ass and starts to grind your hips on the bulge in his pants, a silent beg for any amount of friction. You wind with his movements, consuming him, and you hear a whimper get lost in the back of his throat.  

You drag your teeth along his neck. You lick and suck in a few spots and decide to draw harshly on a responsive patch of skin while circling the fat of your pussy over his sensitive cock, taut in his boxers. His breath hitches, and he slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby please.” It’s rare to witness him begging like this, and you’re drinking it in. You lick up his Adam’s apple and pepper his jaw with kisses. “You like it?” 

“Need more.” You bite his bottom lip for what seems like an exchange, but break away once he leans in. “Mm, be patient Toji.”  

Your hands traverse the rugged muscle under his tank top. He aids in taking it off, and you rake over his breathless torso. You kiss along his pecs and lick the groove of his abs, delighting in the parts you missed during your separation. Toji has a tinge of red soaking his chest and ears, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing cock when you bat your eyes as you slope to the floor. You slip a finger under his waistband, playfully running over its span, and snapping it from a peak. He hisses. You palm his erection, and he grinds into it.  

“Wait” he husks. He reaches for a pillow and shuffles it under your knees. “Oh, thank you” you say, but it doesn’t look like he hears you in the chaos of tugging his sweatpants down to expose his boxers. The anticipation’s killing you, so you free his dick from its confinement. 

You can’t forget the mouthwatering size. His girth meets his length with equal satisfaction. The base is tan, fading to a rosy tip and a faint curve. You committed his veins to memory, small ones embossing the sides and a prominent one meandering to his tip. 

You maintain eye contact with him, hand steady on the base as you deliver taunting little licks to his frenulum. You precisely ring around his urethra and trace the veins, pulsating from the flick of your wrist. Toji hisses shaky curses and bucks, beefy thighs stiffening when you roll a flat strip to his leaking head and pump the base of his cock. He didn’t want to push you, but his whole body twitched in desire. “Your mouth” he groans. You react a coy ‘huh?’, tapping the head on your tongue and slathering it in saliva with cutesy doe eyes. He’s homed in on the strings of saliva connecting him to your tongue. 

An undertone of desperation in his gravelly voice, “Whole thing. In your mouth,” he expends another shaky breath, “please.” 

He bites his lip and stifles a moan, watching you engulf the cockhead in your mouth. You hollow out your cheeks while the underside of your tongue holds firm, and cautiously accommodate his size. It’s too big for comfort and it stretches the capacity of your plump spit-covered lips, but you work through the daunting pressure poking your reflex. You gradually relax, periodically gagging from an unprepared increase, and he twitches at your tightening throat. Your nose finally touches the hilt, flooded in his musk, and you start to suck. You bob leisurely, adjusting to the sense, and he subtly squirms in your touch.  

Toji crinkles his brows when you release a pleasant pop on his tip, purely to observe his eyes rolling back when you wreck him in a noisy suction. Noise was no longer a factor—sounds of spit and dry retching overpowered the volume of the movie regardless. He holds your hair away from you to get a better view of your face, smothered with tears and mascara, drool ceaseless down your chin. “F-fuck, you’re so good, so, so good to me” he groans. 

Your tongue swirls around him as you’re bobbing, and you accompany it with a tender massage to his balls. You cup and fondle them, using the lubrication from your spit to glide your fingers across. He sighs and grabs a handful of your hair. “Need to come. Keep that pretty throat open for me, yeah?” 

He rapidly shoves you down to the hilt, and you wince before he continues at a relentless pace. You anchor his thigh for stability, and he throws his head back, fucking your throat raw. There's a sheen of sweat where his bangs stick to his forehead, and he emits an endless measure of moans the closer he gets. Rambling about nonsense, yes’s and curses as he stiffens. He treats your mouth like a flesh light, evident by the throat bulge disappearing and reappearing. You happily accept the searing jaw, swaying your ass from thrumming in your saturated panties damp to your inner thighs.  

You can tell he’s about to climax because he goes completely quiet minus the panting, open mouthed with his head back. You resume massaging his balls, and he shoves you to the base, “C-coming” he moans. You grab onto him, and a squeak dies in your throat when he paints it white. He shakes, groans for each spurt coating your mouth, pumping the last of his semen as you swallow. 

Toji shudders when he pulls out, and his panting returns to a soft huff. You expected him to be spent, or at least sit in the aftershocks for a while until he calmed down. But he tightens the grip on your hair and forces you to look up. “Show me” he husks. You stick your tongue out, proof you swallowed every bit. “Now c’mere”, he guides you into a filthy French kiss, devouring you with much more dominance than before. It’s as though your nearness restored him. You can hardly stand your feeble knees and sopping core, but Toji takes care of it for you. With unnatural vigor, he lifts you over his shoulder, and marches up the stairs. “Ah, Toji, maybe you should take a sec-” 

He swats your butt harsh, and you yelp from the sting. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You’ve been so mouthy, a damn tease, too. You’re gonna regret it.” 

You’re ferried into the rather plain bedroom lined with dim hues, and a wide ceiling length mirror opposite the bed. He tosses you on the dark gray bedding and climbs over you. Your heart’s racing with thrill. Toji yanks the dress over your head, uncovering the sheer white lacey bra, similar to your underwear.  

He stares like you’re a piece of meat, feasting on your flawlessness not yet smothered in hickeys and bruises, your nipples at attention under the fabric. “It’s all for me, huh?” he whispers, lust rolling off his tongue. You nod, because it’s always been for him, whether he was here or not. He buries himself in your cleavage and hums in satisfaction. His touch sends goosebumps to your skin and keeps your back arched when he drags a pad along your spine. Then your bra unclasps, and he removes it carefully, as if he didn’t want to spoil the surprise by unwrapping his gift too early. He gawks at them for an embarrassingly long pause, enough to make your cheeks hot, and you chide, “Stop staring.” 

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous.” Toji submerges the bud, whirling around it while he roughly squeezes both breasts. He molds the dough of your breasts with strong palms, nips and tugs your nipple before soothing it with fierce tongue kisses. Consistent teeth grazing hikes your sensitivity before he trades it for sucking. When he switches to the other, he pinches the maltreated peak, eliciting a whimper. You merely bind your thighs and embrace the disarray being caused on your spit-soaked nipples. The cold air your abused tits receive as he withdrawals from suckling is nullified by the hickeys he leaves. You quiver from constellations of splotchy purplish red, delicious pain tingling throughout your torso. “Not so much, I have to go back to work soon” you moan, not very convincing.  

“Even better; everyone’ll know who fucks you” Toji winks, and your heart skips. He dumps a nice vibrant bruise on your sternum, and advances to the dainty hem. He parts your thighs with ease, throwing them on his shoulder. Then he develops a haughty smirk.  

You’re monitoring his face, until he presses a pad against your aching clit, and the subsequent juices overflowing from a huge wet patch. He plays with the spiderweb of slick between his digits, “Mm. Y’still my girl.” You blush as he sucks on them and licks his lips afterwards. Hooking under the panties, he pulls them taut, projecting the swell of your pudgy vulva in tightening lace. It sinks past your outer lips and cages your clit—you want to writhe from friction, but it makes it worse. He ghosts against you and kisses the print, and you want to scream. “Tell me what you want, or I won’t do it.” 

“P-please...” you whine. You lock eyes, and you can hardly manage a word in the foreground of his intensity. How can he expect you to form coherent sentences when he sees through you like this? He gives a disappointed tut and puppeteers the strings, shifting them back and forth upon your neglected vulva. You cry out, and he cinches it together, isolating the part that pulses incessantly. He has an evil grin on his face, the bastard. “Details, baby.” 

“Toji...please t-touch me alre-eady so I can come, m’sorry I won’t tease you again!” you promise, willing to do whatever it takes to reduce your sentence. 

“And what else?” 

“Your mouth on m-my pussy...please lick it.” You’re humiliated at the request that tumbles from your bottommost desires, but he’s satisfied. He’s never been one to shy away from dirty talk. 

“Good girl.” Toji slithers your panties off, and you sigh from a loss of pressure just as his bangs tickle your pubic area. He interlocks your hands, a breath from eating you. 

“You don’t look at me, I’ll stop. Think you can do that f’me?”  

“Mhm!”  

He hums in agreement and submerses into you. Toji’s a messy eater, especially when he’s desperate. He ovals the outer lips and precisely stirs your clit, and your stomach turns in knots from simple motions. He frames it and carefully winds around his capable tongue, really focusing on the spots that make your back curve; really focusing on your entry, as he teasingly digs in.  

Toji cajoles a groan from his nose caressing your bud, then laps a level tongue over your wetness, truly tasting you. It isn’t long before his teasing farce began to crumble, and he obliged his ravenous appetite. He eats you starving, insatiable as he absorbs your twitching cunt and perfumed essence spilling down his chin. You clasp your hands, desire building in a trembling quake, but he doesn’t falter. He slurps your inner lips, and finally delivers proper care to your neglected clit. He hums a low vibration when he sucks, his pursed lips moving from a steady tongue to full on slobbering like some savage animal.  

You appreciate the support his steady hands give your shaky ones. “Toji, hahhh coming” you whine, a familiar sensation flipping in your core. He lets his words fan onto you, “You know better” he husks. Your hips are bucking frantically, and so you whine, “Please, can I come sir, please please please please!”  

“Hmm, I don’t know, you were ready to disobey me just now.” He says that, however the look in his eye is unrelated; it craves you, the want to make you squeal repeatedly until you’re on the verge of collapse. “’M can’t take it anymore, please let me come!” You urge your hips to his mouth, and meld into his warmth. 

“Come on my face, pretty girl” he groans, just as hankering as you. He laps at your clit, and you sooner fall apart underneath him. Your whimpered plea forms an innocent sob as you spasm from overstimulation. Toji just doesn’t stop. His head careens against you, tasting everything your body has to offer. You’re suddenly regretting how badly you wanted to come. 

“Toji- I-it’s too much” you protest, but it receives no response. Your release dribbles down his chin and he persists, ultimately unbinding when you lose a hold on his hands from the tremors. He diverges your lips and admires the way your mess clenches around air. 

“Heh, you’re shaking. Cute.” He rubs the back of your legs, reassuring you in spite of his previous cruelty. You make a sad attempt at wiggling away, but he grabs you firm. 

No running. Be good and hold your legs back.” He folds your legs to your shoulders, and you mewl, reluctantly wrapping your hands around them. ‘No’ isn’t a valid response at present.  

Toji’s thumbs spread your wrinkling opening, and you feel a draft on its expanse before he spits directly into your hole. You jerk, startled, and he shushes you. He slathers his thick digits in your glistening strip, and smoothly sinks one inside. “Pussy so slippery for me. Miss this...miss you” he sighs, starting to pump. He prepares you for the main course, scrapes your walls and curls his finger to hit a spot you can’t reach. The nasty squelching sounds you echo from a mere finger casts heat on your cheeks, and he seems to enjoy your responsiveness as he adds another finger to the commotion. He twines a ‘come hither’ motion that makes your back arch from every delightful swipe against your velvety walls. Then his pink muscle undulates along your swollen bud, and you dissolve to a puddle. Your hips stutter, and surge after surge of torturous pleasure strikes you with no end in sight. 

“Toji, f-fuck wait- hng s’feels too good” you whimper, and he gruffs a chuckle. He expands his fingers with precision, then chooses to slide a thumb in your butthole. The combination of both hands intruding your being, coiling into your soul jams your head with intoxicating dizziness and fictitious futures. Static pools in your stomach and circulates like the goading flickers of a raging inferno. He contacts your g-spot, and you moan, “Ah- can I, I’m close” 

“I know, I know. Let go for me,” he says, or at least that’s what it sounds like when he’s face-deep. Your eyes are screwed shut, white noise before you crash and shatter around his fingers. Fortunately, you’re deaf to your own lewd wailing, clutching for dear life through contractions. It gushes past his wrist. Tears reside in your lashes, croaked sob from the slap he gives your puffy pussy. “That’s it, baby, there we go.” 

Toji shows mercy and slips out. You’re still registering sultry bliss, untangling your limbs to lay slack. Empathy isn’t forever, though, because he forces your butt rearwards as he hops off the bed. Precum seeps from his tip, sheeting his shaft and heavy brimming sack. He propels your thighs to your chest, and your expression switches to fear for a second at the angry red tip sitting at your entrance. It's as if it grew since the blowjob, and you’re sure you’ll die if he stuffs that monster inside you.  

He slides up and down the entrance, seizing the sore bud, “Mmm, pretty thing making a mess all over my cock.”  

“Just go slow, okay?” you meek. 

“Of course, ‘m not tryna kill you.” Toji doesn’t disrupt the yearning gaze between you, giving your entry several threatening caresses. He groans from the sensation of your puffy lips snuggling his length. Then he plunges the bulbous tip, encased in your passion. He’s unhurried for the most part, besides the instants he stops himself from ramming into you, cock begging to feel the fervor. He’s plugging you to capacity, and you’re only halfway in. Soreness whirrs in your walls being outstretched beyond belief, yet you’re milking what remains, dragging the rest of him in. His breath hitches, a spiderweb of veins pulses in your tight embrace and he rocks his hips further. “Look at the way you’re gripping me. Fuck” he shudders. His tip presses on your cervix, and you feel the weight of his balls on your rear. 

Toji drives into you nice and slow. In this position you feel each vast stroke massaging your tumid core, squelching amidst your languid bodies. There’s almost a gloss film on his eyes as he indulges in the sweet addiction swamping his thoughts with unfiltered lust. “When you left it hurt real bad, y’know? I even cried.” You’re a bit stunned at his spur of honesty, but it’s short-lived as his thrusts get wilder and brutal. Your mouth hangs open, drool shameless out your mouth as he kisses your cervix without trying. You throb frenetically, chest heaving from the way his sack smacks against your ass and the creamy translucent ring forming at the base of his cock. His swinging strokes graze your g-spot and you sob, but he doesn’t check for your mitigation, encompassing your numb clit in the heat of his mean smacks.  

“Heh, dunno if you remember, but you left a pair of panties when you moved”, Toji regresses to the tip and bottoms out repeatedly, “I’ve jerked off in them so many times, imagining you backing up this juicy pussy on my dick.” You’re hysterical, flushed from head to toe and struggling to take breaths. Toji has you locked slamming into your cervix. It coaxes a mix of pleasure and pain burning through you, and your toes curl. “You love me?” he asks. It’s unfair to ask you now, scatter-brained and drooling like a stupefied slut. But you nod, and he plasters a cocky grin. “Good. ‘S long as I have that, I’m okay.”  

The unexpected flood of your orgasm quakes you, unable to warn Toji, or even ask for permission. How disappointed he’d be in you, as your juices sluice and soak, fluttering where you come undone. It’s a trail of fire, and it hurts to come. His hips sputter and he mutters a string of curses, flicking your nub faster to heighten the intensity of the earlier mess. You paw at his chest, back arched and fresh tears clustering in the haze. “Please, please!” you babble to an unresponsive Toji, stuck in a feral trance.  

Toji pulls out, palpitating at the precipice of his own climax. You take this opportunity to flip on your stomach and creep to a farther part of the bed. He’s in no rush. You can’t go far like that, a net of arousal at the apex of your thighs. He climbs onto the bed and grapples your hips, thighs capturing yours. He curves your back and slips into your gummy walls anew. You grip him like a vice notwithstanding the complaints. You hate to say it, but Toji’s length bullying its way to your cervix is a poison you’d drink habitually. He snares your hair and holds the underside of your chin. “Hah- c’mon baby, you can take a little more”, he groans at a savage pace, “be a good girl.” Your ass ripples against the brawny man, hoarse voice in your ear, scrotum pummeling the overworked bundle of nerves. Your knuckles turn white on the sheets. All you should do is let him use you, that’s all you need to do, right?   

Toji pans your head to the mirror, “Look how good you’re taking me, angel. You’re doing well.” His honeyed praises make you throb, attended by the bestial snap of his hips. “See that?”, he references your release slugging both legs, air heavy with sweat, “you’re such a f-fucking slut, what man could satisfy you besides me?” You sniffle and muster a pathetic babble, and he laughs. “You’re my perfect slut, though, fuck- ‘nd I’m not gonna make the same mistakes again.” There’s a tinge of regret swimming in the sea that is Toji’s confidence, and you feel it. It’s a subtle confession; please don’t go. 

Then he stops. Toji lets go, and you’re impulsively manhandled in front of him while he’s behind you. He lays back, and in doing so, ferries your knees to the sides of your face and hooks his hands to the rear of your head. You’re unveiled in the reflection of the mirror, a panel that bounces back the thin sheen of sweat on your bodies, your disheveled hair and makeup, wrinkled sheets, and the sticky lacings attaching you to Toji. You want to shy from the humiliating sight. “Don’t hide your face” he coos. You glimpse a portion of his face in the mirror, a glint in his eye, “I like this view more.”  

He bends his knees and pounds your chubby cunt with reckless abandon. He’s fucking your cervix, heedless grunts and panting groans as you swallow him up. Toji sputters, throbbing along your abused body and reverberating vicious staggering plap’s that could be heard on the lowest floor. You can’t breathe, let alone think, and the asphyxiation goes straight to your pussy. “O-oh fuck, heh, feel s’good. Gonna fill you up, yeah? Shit- have a mini me crawling around. Y-you'd like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Wanna carry my baby?” The headboard thuds against the wall, and in your fog, you call out for him, chanting his name like a mantra. The emotion is overwhelming, you claw at his bicep as shockwaves burst and fizzle out on your skin. “You’re dripping down my balls, sweetie, you close again?” Tougher, nastier strikes allure your orgasm, and you bleat a scream as a stream of liquid surges from you that drenches the sheets and Toji’s shaft. It’s a blinding white light, and you go limp through the violent spasms.  

“Ohhh shit, that’s it baby, take everything I give you” he rasps. Toji shoulders your dead weight with ease, going silent, then plummeting you to the hilt. His balls tighten, and he manages some slushy pumps before he comes. He spurts thick, hot globs that paint and crowd your walls with greed. You milk him dry as he bucks. It overflows to trickling down his length, and his muscles quiver as he comes down from his high. His staggering pants reduce to hitching, and he relaxes your exhausted limbs. 

Toji drives out and turns you around. You’re edging unconsciousness, sporadic jolts and innocent sobs carrying in your scratched throat. “I know. Breathe, baby.” He brings you flush with his chest, and you absorb his gentle puffs, the methodical beat of his heart. “You okay?” You’re unresponsive, gathering yourself in an incomplete collage of thoughts. You want to talk but it dissipates on your tongue. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead.  

Then it’s muted; solely the dwindling rate at which your heart races, and the tender smooches Toji dots on your face as you cuddle. When you open your eyes, the sheets are changed, and you’re cleaned. Clearly some time has passed. You sit, and Toji comes out the bathroom, running water in the background. “How ya feelin’?” 

You wince at the blunt thrum in your vulva, “Okay. How long was I out?” 

“Like half an hour. Up for a bath?” You don’t have the energy to move your body. Toji scoops you bridal style and leads you to the bathroom. You found it amusing how considerate he was after wrecking your brain. 

Toji spoons a generous quantity of Epson salt into the corner jet tub. He helps you in and joins once you’re stable. It’s a lavish proportion, but you decide to be next to him. Your head situates on your forearms over the tub rim while Toji sloshes water onto your back. The steam and serene jets below ship you to a luxury vacation on a tropical island, its quality comparable to spas with extensive dollar signs. You study each other. 

“I’ll let you get whatever you need from your place.” You knit your brows, “For what?” 

“You live with me.” You simper at his audacity.  

“So, you’re the decision maker now?” 

“For this, yes. Can’t risk you runnin’ off again.” 

“It’s your fault I left.” He pauses, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

A piece of you becomes whole at his acknowledgement. There are no petty jabs to be had where lingering truths wade in the mist. “Never thought I’d hear an apology from you.”  

“It’s overdue. I was a dick, and I should’ve never treated you like that. Was tryna sort out my shit, but I didn’t have to take it out on ya.” 

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry...but not sorry enough to let me go?” 

 “No. You need nobody but me.” 

You chortle, and he cracks a smirk. “Arrogant asshole.”   

“I love you, too.” 

[drewsephrry]

guilty as sin?

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Words: 11.8k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, alcohol and drug consumption, cuss words, violence (punches mostly), cheating

Inspired by: Guilty as Sin? by Taylor Swift (and most of the songs from The Tortured Poets Department)

loml

party at top's 2nite

be ready by 8

Seen 5:53 pm

You

okay

i love you

Delivered 5:54 pm

You and Y/Bf/N have been together for three years now, but it feels a lot different than how it started.

At first he was really sweet, thoughtful and caring. He brought you flowers for most if not all of your dates. You loved him so much and trusted him with your whole life.

Although everyone around you seemed to have a very different opinion than you.

All the wine moms in their Sunday best would be clutching their pearls, sighing, whispering “What a mess!” whenever you would walk in the Country Club. They would shake their heads saying "God, help her" when you would tell them he's your man.

God save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for you.

You had a lot of arguments with your parents about him and if he was taking care of you. Most of the arguments ending with you screaming “But daddy I love him.”

But lately, he was more distant.

When you went out or he was over at your house, where you spent most of your time together, he would sit on his phone. And you had gotten bored, feeling the need to cry when he left without kissing you or saying ‘I love you’ back.

But you couldn't just throw everything you had built away to the wolves or onto the ocean rocks.

You were in the middle of picking out an outfit for the party, when you heard the notification sound on your phone. You picked it up, expecting your boyfriend had replied but what you saw made you smile wider.

rafey

heard this today and thought of homecoming lol

*The Downtown Lights by The Blue Nile*

Seen 6:17 pm

Rafe had sent you the song that you had danced with him back in the homecoming dance that you hadn't heard in a while. You smiled at the memory and sent him a picture you had in your favorites folder, of you two in front of your staircase. Toothy grins and his tie matching the maroon color of your dress.

You

how could i forget?

*image attached*

Seen 6:18 pm

You and Rafe had been friends for many years, mostly because you and Sarah were best friends since you were both 5. That meant that you both spent a lot of time in each other's houses, going on vacations with your families and having family dinners almost each week.

You couldn't help but take a liking to the older Cameron, because he was always kind and sincere to you, despite what everyone else was saying. He was always there for you when you needed him.

When your homecoming date canceled on you at the last minute, Rafe stepped in without a second thought. Even if he was two years older than you and your friend group. Or when you first got your heart broken, he had gone out to buy you ice cream and stayed with you while you were watching ‘The Notebook’ with Sarah.

“He built her the house, Rafey!”

Or when you were in the Bahamas with the Camerons and your family and your period decided to ruin your vacation, Rafe was the one who went out and got you everything you needed.

“Can you unlock the door for me sweetheart? I got you the stuff.”

And afterwards stayed with you to ensure you were okay and did impressions of his family to make you laugh.

Or last year, when you and your friends had all decided to go to Florida. Everyone was high and they all reeked of weed. While you downed a bottle of wine and had accidentally locked yourself in the bathroom crying, wearing a short black skirt with the lacy details. Rafe was the only one who tried to help you out and when he finally got the door unlocked, he held you and tried to get you to quiet down.

“Shh, I know princess. You'll be alright”.

You were really ashamed to admit that Rafe had crossed your mind once or twice while dating your current boyfriend.

And you were mostly ashamed that he had invaded your mind in your more private moments with Y/Bf/N.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?” Y/Bf/N’s head, between your legs, his chin glistening with your wetness, his fingers inside you searching for that sweet spot that made you see stars. The sweet spot only you had found.

But the way he whispered the nickname that you had only ever heard from Rafe, made you close your eyes and imagine it was him fingering you.

“Ye-yeah, babe. Can you go faster?” You whispered, your eyes still shut and your hips grinding on Y/Bf/N's face. He smirked and dove right back in.

Your mind was still on Rafe though, imagining his long fingers touching that sweet spongy spot, his mouth sucking your clit, while his other hand would grab one of your tits, playing with the nipple.

“Mine.” Rafe whispered, pressing a kiss on your upper thigh while his fingers worked wonders inside you.

And that brought you closer and closer to your release. Moaning loudly, thankful that your parents had gone out.

“Baby, you squirted.” Y/Bf/N whispered, making you open your eyes and staring at him, sighing.

Was it a crime?

rafey

will you go to top's party tn?

Seen 6:21 pm

You

yes

wbu?

Seen 6:23 pm

rafey

see you there princess

Seen 6:24 pm

You giggled and continued roaming your closet to find a dress. You needed to take your mind off of Rafe, quickly and effectively. But all you could actually do is play Taylor Swift loudly on your speaker and get ready for the party.

At 8, your phone rang and you saw your boyfriend's contact.

“Hey, I'm putting on my shoes right now. Do you want to come upstairs?” You put your phone on speaker, while tying your heels.

“I'm leaving my house now. I'll be there in five. Just wait outside for me, okay?” You could hear him, buckling his seatbelt.

“That's alright. I'll see you in a bit. I love you and drive safely!” You smiled, finishing with your right foot.

“Yeah, bye.” He said, hanging up. You sighed, trying not to cry to avoid messing up your makeup.

Why was this so hard? You could do it with a broken heart.

After five minutes, you went outside and he had just parked, looking up from his phone when he heard your front door close. You got in and leaned over the console to give him a kiss on the lips, which he accepted.

“Hi baby. You smell good.” He said, starting the car.

“Thank you. It's the perfume your mom bought me for my birthday. I've put it on before.” You replied, buckling your seatbelt, sighing once again.

When you reached Topper's house, he helped you out of the car and walked with you inside the house, searching for your friend group. You found them in the kitchen, mixing up drinks and talking shit about a pogue that crashed Kelce's car.

All of the boys started hollering when you and your boyfriend, holding hands, entered the kitchen, greeting him with high fives. Topper gave you a side hug and thanked you for coming, to which you just smiled and replied that you wouldn't miss it. You felt Y/Bf/N pulling away from you to talk more with the other boys while you just stood in the middle of the kitchen, playing with the hem of your dress.

“Hey! There's my favorite girl!” A familiar voice was heard and you looked up to find Rafe approaching you. Holding a beer bottle, dressed in a light blue polo that showed every muscle of his.

Crashing into him made you feel like he's a paradox, making you question everything, even your own sanity and morality.

“Hi Rafey!” You smiled and he hugged you tightly when he was finally close. His scent engulfed you in a daydream, as you hugged him back.

“Fuck, are you wearing that perfume your ‘mother-in-law’ got you? Smells really good, sweetheart.” He said, grinning like the devil.

You nodded, surprised and looked around to search for Y/Bf/N, who was now gone.

“Want a drink?” Rafe asked, making you nod once more. “Your usual?” His grin wider as he approached the cooler pulling out a watermelon flavored Whiteclaw. You thanked him when he handed it to you and you grimaced when a shirtless guy with sunglasses entered the kitchen and started yelling.

“Let's go outside. It's quieter. Come on” He said, pulling your free hand to follow him. You looked around once more for Y/Bf/N but nodded to Rafe and let him pull you outside. His tan, veiny hand, way bigger than yours making your mind travel at what his long fingers could do.

Are you bad or mad or wise?

You shook your head from the dirty thoughts fogging up your brain and flushing your cheeks.

“He is there playing beer pong with the guys. Don't worry.” He exclaimed, walking outside and sitting down on a chair, pulling you to sit beside him.

“How have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!” He asked, sipping his beer. “Why haven't you been to Tannyhill lately? Did you and my sister fight or something?” He continued asking, chuckling with the last question thinking that was impossible.

“I've been good. Just really busy. I was literally there last week.” You replied, taking a sip of your Whiteclaw, the drink refreshening you. You looked to the table, where your boyfriend stood with his friends as they yelled at someone to throw the ball. You rolled your eyes and looked back at the cerulean ones, you couldn't stop thinking about.

Thinking about how he would stare at you while he would lower his mouth where you would need him the most, leaving love bites all over your breasts, your tummy and thighs. Then he would come back and messily kiss you, as he would enter you, swallowing your moans.

“Y/N, did I lose you?” He chuckled, snapping his fingers in front of you as you removed yourself from your trance. You felt your skin heating up, as you looked down and played with the hem of your dress once more.

Without ever touching his skin, how could you be guilty as sin?

“I'm sorry. Just in my head these days.” You apologized.

“Why? What's up? Is something bothering you with mr. Boring guy over there?” He asked, nodding his head towards the guys.

“What? He's not boring. If somebody's boring me, I think it's me.” You said quoting one of your favorite poets.

“Dylan Thomas? Really?” you looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“Ho-Since when do you know Dylan Thomas?” you asked, never taken Rafe as a guy who reads poetry.

“Do you not remember? Last year? In Florida?” He asked, chuckling, also furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “I called you a little alcoholic and you said that ‘an alcoholic is someone you don't like who drinks as much as you do’. I asked you where you got that from and you said Dylan Thomas. So afterwards, I found some of his work and I was really enamored. I guess. I-It's lame.” He tried to explain, getting embarrassed and shaking his head.

“It's not.” You whispered, grabbing his hand, smiling. “It's really cool actually.” He shook his head grinning at you.

“So?” After a minute of silent stares, he asked.

“So what?” You asked back. “What's up with you and Y/Bf/N?” He asked again. You sighed, knowing you cannot lie to Rafe but also knowing that you cannot tell him the complete truth, which is you have been falling for him.

“I-we are…No. I can't and I won't lie to you, things have been…I don't know how to explain it. He's just been a little distant lately. And…I don't know if I should even be telling you this.” You tried to explain, chuckling.

“Come on, I've known you since what? Since you were 5?” You nodded. “I don't mind listening to you talking about this or anything. You should know by now that you can always come to me. Always, Y/N.”

“I know. Just feels kinda weird talking to the wrong Cameron.” You took another sip of your drink.

“Do you want me to wear a wig or some shit?” He said getting up, pointing towards the house like he was going to get an actual wig. Maybe he would, if you said yes. You pulled his hand to pull him back down and laughed at him.

“Don't! I just have never talked to you about stuff like that before.” You said, looking back at the beer pong table, noticing that your boyfriend was suddenly gone. You shrugged it off, thinking he went to get a drink.

“You don't have to. But if you ever want someone to talk to, you know where you can find me, sweetheart.” There it was again. You felt like melting on the spot.

“I know and thank you Rafey. I really appreciate it. I just feel-” “There you are! I looked everywhere for you!” Y/Bf/N slurred. You looked up and planted a small smile for him.

“Was here all along.” You said lowly to which Rafe snorted. “Got something to say Rafe?” Y/Bf/N scoffed and sucked his teeth.

Rafe and Y/Bf/N were never big fans of each other. They were forced to hang out because of the rest of their friend group and mostly, because of you even though you didn't want either one of them to feel uncomfortable being around the other.

“Let's just go. I need another drink.” You got up, grabbing Y/Bf/N's hand, before anything could start between the two. Rafe tightened his jaw and rolled his eyes looking away.

“I'll see you around, Rafe.” You greeted him, smiling sadly at him. He nodded, understanding and got up to join the rest of the boys.

The following weekend, Sarah had invited you over for a pool day. You were laying on the daybed, looking at your phone screen, waiting for a notification or a call to go off. You had texted your boyfriend, hours ago, to go to a party later the same day and he hadn't given a single sign of life.

“Y/N, turn it off. It's going to bother you for the rest of the day if you don't.” Sarah stated, coming out of the big mansion holding drinks in each hand. She handed you one, sitting down on the other daybed beside you.

“I'm sorry. You're right. I…it's just that things are weird between us. He's been ghosting me a lot lately and he's really distant. We barely hang out and when we do he's mostly on his phone or playing video games with the guys.” You confessed, sighing. Feeling like a weight has been lifted, finally getting the chance to talk about this with your best friend.

“Have you talked to him about it?” She asked, swirling her straw around her drink.

“No. Whenever I try talking to him about it, something happens. But there's more. Can I confess something to you?” You worriedly ask.

“Dude, did you murder someone?” Sarah jokingly asks, raising her eyebrows. “No! Sar!”

“Not yet!” She adds and you chuckle, shaking your head and then put your drink down.

“I need you to promise me to not say a word about this Sar. It's so embarrassing and wrong on so many levels.” You expressed taking hold of her hands.

“Y/N, you're scaring me. Of course, I promise.” She said, extending her pinky as well, intertwining with yours.

“Okay, so these last few days, maybe even weeks, I have had some thoughts. I have been thinking about someone else while I'm with Y/Bf/N. I-There's this guy that I think I have feelings for but I really shouldn't. I mean, it's wrong. It's so unfair towards Y/Bf/N. Fuck, I'm such a bad girlfriend.” You rambled, holding your head in your hands.

“Okay. Stop. You're not. You're the best girlfriend anyone could have. Y/Bf/N has never treated you properly and I know what I'm going to say is going to hurt, but he's not the one for you. Especially after treating you like this. And having these thoughts doesn’t make you a bad person or a bad girlfriend. I mean there's no such thing as bad thoughts, only actions talk.” Sarah reassured you, pulling your hands away from your face and giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“Okay, now that we got that off your mind. Who is it?” Sarah asked excitedly. You raised your eyebrows, opening your mouth to reply but you couldn't form any words.

“I…it's-”

“Hello, ladies!” Topper appeared just in time, Kelce and Rafe following.

Sarah got up to greet the boys and you stood up, walking towards the older Cameron first.

“Hey Rafey!” You greeted, wrapping your arms around his waist. His large biceps curled around your shoulders, bringing you in a tight embrace.

“Hi sweetheart! You okay?” He whispered and you pulled away from his chest, nodding with a small smile. Then you hugged Topper and Kelce, making small talk with both.

“Hey, wanna help me in the kitchen?” Rafe suggested.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, walking inside the house, Rafe following you towards the kitchen. You sat on the counter and saw Rafe grabbing three bottles of beer from the fridge, leaving them on the counter beside you.

“What's up?” He asked, coming to stand between your legs, his two arms caging you. You felt your breath hitching, your whole body warming up and your swimsuit getting damp at the sight of his tan chest and abs.

“What do you mean?” You asked, clearing your throat.

“You don't seem okay. And I'm kind of worried.” He confessed.

“I'm good. Yeah. Thanks for asking.” You looked down at your thighs. “You sure? You can always talk to me. If you want.” He rambled, as you smiled once more and nodded before looking into his eyes, filled with concern and wondering if he had ever thought of you as something more than his sister's best friend.

“Yeah, I know. And thank you, truly. I just am in a weird situation with Y/Bf/N. He hasn't answered any of my texts today and we have barely hung out lately.” You confessed, pouting. Rafe's blood was boiling, seeing how Y/Bf/N had upset you so much.

“I'm sorry sweetheart, it sucks that he treats you like this. You deserve better, you know?” He admitted, reminding you of what his sister told you mere minutes ago. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

“So what are you going to do?” He asked, only then making you realize how close you are to each other. His chain dangling from his neck, his abs and biceps flexing with each small movement and the black swim shorts clinging on his thighs that you'd want to ride.

“Honestly,” you sighed, “I have no idea. I need some time to think about everything.” You exclaimed, Rafe nodded giving you a compassionate smile.

“Come here.” He pointed to himself as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, making you wrap your own around his waist.

“I don't like seeing you sad. Especially because of him.” He added, making you chuckle in his chest.

“And you know what they say. Though lovers be lost, love shall not.” He exclaimed, adding another Dylan Thomas quote, this one happening to be one of your favorites too.

You pulled away from his chest and smiled wider, your eyes flickering between his blue ones and his plump lips. He licked his lips out of instinct and leaned in slightly.

“Yo, where are those beers bro?” Kelce entered the kitchen, making you and Rafe immediately pull away. You got off the counter grabbing two of the beers and walked towards Kelce, handing him one, before going outside to give Top his own.

“Fucking cockblock.” Rafe whispered, under his breath.

Some hours later, you were reading a book on the daybed, while the boys and Sarah were playing volleyball in the pool. They all got out and spread out to sit on the other daybeds by the pool to dry.

“You can join me, if you'd like.” You suggested to Rafe seeing he didn't have anywhere to lay down, pulling your sunglasses on your head.

“Do you mind?” He asked, approaching the daybed. “No, not at all!” You exclaimed, shaking your head and making space for him. He laid down, his skin touching you and cooling you down from the North Carolina heat.

In the span of a few minutes, quiet snores were heard as his chest went up and down with each breath he took. You couldn't help but sit and admire him and you reached with your hand to scratch his head.

The feeling of your hand in his hair, awakening him.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." You apologized profusely. Rafe smiled and laid his head on your chest, wrapping one of his arms around your waist falling back to sleep while you continued the scratching, pulling a strand or two on the back of his head making him sigh in pleasure.

Thinking about how you would pull his hair while he ate you out or when you would make out and he would lower his lips to leave sweet kisses on your neck.

Suddenly you felt consumed by your fatal fantasies, despite knowing they're make-believe but they feel like binding promises with him that needed to stop filling your thoughts.

Looking at his eyelashes fluttering, his cheeks now red from being in the sun for the whole day and the freckles that adorned his shoulders started making you think about who else could satisfy him, if not you?

Who else could hold him like you? Who's gonna know him like you do?

Hours later, after taking a shower and doing your hair and makeup, you were in Sarah's bedroom trying to decide what to wear for the party.

“I still have that green dress you wore to Kiara's birthday last year, you could wear that.” Sarah suggested from her ensuite bathroom, as she applied mascara. You sighed, still roaming her closet for a cute dress. Suddenly, a knock was heard.

“Come in!” Sarah yelled from the bathroom, the door opening revealing a dripping wet Rafe with just a towel around his hips.

“Hey, do you have any idea where my shaving cream is?” Rafe asked, looking around the room for his sister, his eyes landing on you searching around the closet wearing an old shirt of his and shorts that didn't leave much to his imagination.

“Oh, sorry Y/N needed it.” Sarah said, pulling you out of your trance. “What? Oh, yeah. I'm sorry for that!” You apologized, walking to the bathroom to grab it.

“It's no problem.” He thanked you as you handed it to him. “In how long do you reckon you'll be ready?” He asked both of you, since he was the designated driver for the night, staring at you chewing on his gum.

“If Y/N ends up finding an outfit, I think in about 20. Maybe 30.” Sarah replied, coming out of the bathroom.

“You'd look good in anything, Y/L/N.” He winked, walking out of the room, shutting the door. You were left standing with your mouth open.

“Did you find something?” Sarah asked, putting deodorant on.

“I'm gonna do the green again.” You smiled, clearing your throat and walking towards the closet to grab it.

Rafe drove you and Sarah to the house where the party was held. Sarah grabbed your hand and dragged you inside, before you got the chance to thank him.

You reached the kitchen and got drinks, before finding the rest of your friend group. You couldn't help but look around, searching for him.

Your eyes finally reached the ocean blue eyes and you smiled, as he took a sip from his drink nodding slightly at you. You shook your head smiling, feeling your phone vibrating in your bag. You pulled it out and your boyfriend's name popped up.

“Oh, shit.” You whispered. Sarah saw your shocked expression and looked down at your hands holding your phone.

“You're not picking that up. He fucking ghosted you for a whole day!” She exclaimed, taking it from your grasp and throwing it in her own bag. “Let's go dance! Get your mind off him.” She suggested, grabbing your hands and running to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room. The rest of the girls joined you, as well as some tourons who seemed to take a liking to all of you.

Rafe was staring at you, as a guy put his arms around you. You seemed uncomfortable, grimacing and pushing him away as gently as you could. Sarah even tried pulling you closer to her, shaking her head at him. But he was stronger, pulling you even closer than before. He started grinding his hips on your behind and you seemed disgusted and wanted to get out there. Rafe walked through the crowd, pushing some people to get to you faster.

“What's up man?” He asked, putting his arms on this guy’s shoulder pulling him from you.

“Yo, I'm kinda busy dude.” The touron replied, slurring mostly, grabbing your waist to pull you closer again.

“You're not. She's with me.” Rafe was irritated that he couldn't take no for an answer. This time he pushed the guy away from you.

“Yeah, right. Dude go find some other girl to fuck.” The guy exclaimed, coming closer again before Rafe stopped him by grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck dude?”

“You're going to leave her alone and you're going to get the fuck out of here.” Rafe's jaw tightened.

“You cannot tell me what to do.”

Rafe scoffed and looked at you.

“Can you hold my beer, sweetheart? Thanks.” He asked, handing you his bottle. Before you could look up from the bottle in your hand, a loud smack was heard and people hollered.

You looked up and the guy is on the ground, his nose bleeding and Rafe keeps throwing punches at him. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, as Sarah pulled you towards her.

“Rafe! Stop!” You yelled, pulling away from Sarah. Rafe, at the sound of your voice, stopped the punches. He got up, spitting on the guy, before walking away.

You looked around, at the crowd of people staring at you expectantly. You opened your mouth to say something but you just sighed and walked to the direction, Rafe had gone.

You were reaching the staircase, when you felt something or rather someone, pulling on your hand. You turned around and Y/Bf/N was there.

“Why the fuck are you ignoring my calls?” He demanded, tightening his grip around your wrist.

“Not right now Y/Bf/N.” You tried to escape his grip but he was stronger than you.

“What the fuck do you mean not right now? You fucking ghosted me!” He exclaimed, pulling you towards him.

“Now you know what that feels like.” You replied, finally escaping his pull on you.

“Y/N! Y/N! Get the fuck back here!” He yelled, but it was no use. You were already up the stairs, searching for Rafe. You entered two bedrooms until you reached the third to find him sitting on the bed holding his head in his hands.

“Rafey?” You whispered, entering the room and closing the door.

“I'm okay, Y/N. Go back downstairs.” He advised, raising his head to look at you. His hair was messed up, probably from his fingers dragging through it.

“How is your hand?” You asked, approaching him and taking a seat beside him. Softly, you grabbed his hand to examine it. His knuckles were bruised and bloody.

You got up and walked in the ensuite, searching for a first aid kit or anything that could help you clean up his hand. You found some gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You sat back beside him and pulled his hand in your lap as you carefully cleaned his knuckles, grimacing whenever he hissed from the pain and lastly you wrapped his hand in gauze.

“All better now.” You exclaimed, sighing.

“Thanks.” He whispered. “I'm sorry that you had to witness all of that.” He apologized, looking at his now bandaged hand.

“I should be thanking you. That guy was…I-I really appreciate you helping me. I don't know what would have happened if you didn't step up.” You reassured him, grabbing his hand once again. He looked up and stared into your eyes, as you got lost in his gaze.

“My sister is probably searching for you.” He reminded you as he pulled his hand out of your grasp, making you frown slightly.

“Yeah, you're probably right.” You said, playing with the hem of your dress. “Y/Bf/N is here too.” You whispered.

“Wait, really?” You nodded as Rafe sighed.

“Do you want to talk to him?” He asked and you sighed, shaking your head.

“No, not right now. I don't know.” You replied confused. “He had the fucking audacity to grab me and yell at me ‘cause I didn't answer his call a few minutes ago while he hasn't even replied to one of my texts.” You rambled, rolling your eyes.

“He grabbed you?” Rafe asked, his eyebrows furrowing in concern and his jaw tightened.

“Okay, easy tiger. I can handle him.” You chuckled and he did the same. “He'll shit his pants.” He joked and you snorted.

“Yeah, right. Who's afraid of little old me?” You asked, rolling your eyes before turning to look at him again, catching him staring back at you. This time, you were closer than before. His lips mere inches away from yours. Your eyes flickered up and down his face.

“Y/N-” “Can I kiss you?” You blurted out. His eyes looked deeply into yours.

“You're drunk. I-We can't.” He explained. “I never finished my drink.” You said quickly. You felt like your heart was going to explode, your breaths were deep and quick.

“Sweetheart-” Before he could finish his sentence, your lips were on his. You pulled away for a split second, before he put his hands on your face pulling you back into him. Your tongues fighting for dominance inside your mouth, as one of your hands traveled down his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder and into his hair pulling strands. He groaned into the kiss as he pulled you to straddle his lap, your dress bunching up over your hips, your lacy black underwear appearing, as you messily made out with him. His hands pulled your hips to grind on him, as he groaned.

After a few minutes, you pulled away, seeing his lips glistening with your lip gloss, his hair messy and his cheeks flushed. You felt a poke on your inner thigh and you giggled, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“Sorry for that.” He apologized, chuckling breathlessly. “I just feel so high school every time I look at you.” You giggled and nodded. “The feeling's mutual.”

“I can't believe that this actually happened. Holy shit.” He cursed, falling backwards on the bed, pulling you with him giggling.

“What the fuck am I gonna do?” You whispered, as your lips brushed his jawline. “With you?” You whispered, as you bit the lobe of his ear.

“Y/N…” He shuddered. “I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you or anything. I know that things are messy with Y/Bf/N, but I can't handle being a rebound or something for you to make up your mind about him. Cause I'm down bad for you.” You sat up, listening to him.

“Rafe, I can't stop thinking about you. That's mostly the reason I want to break things off with Y/Bf/N.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, his hands finding home on the curves of your hips.

“My relationship with Y/Bf/N was good at first, but I couldn't help myself but compare him to you at almost everything. Eventually my mind would just fog up and the only thing that was clear was you.” You confessed.

“Since wh-” His phone started ringing, interrupting him. He groaned as he pulled it from his pocket and answered it, after seeing it was his sister.

“She's with me. She's okay. Yeah. Bye.” He hung up quickly. “Y/Bf/N is searching for you. You should head downstairs.” He exclaimed, tightening his jaw once more.

“I don't w-” “We'll talk about this some other time, okay?” He said and you had no other choice but nod your head. You got off of him and walked towards the door, after pulling your dress back down and fixing your lipgloss on the vanity mirror.

“I'll see you around Rafey.” You greeted, as you reached for the door handle.

When you walked downstairs, you found Sarah in the kitchen with Kiara.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked immediately when she saw you approaching, wrapping her arms around you.

“Yeah, I'm alright. I just wanted to check on Rafe.” You nodded in assurance. “Hey, where's Y/Bf/N?” You asked, looking around the kitchen.

“I think he's with Topper.” Kiara replied, pointing towards the living room. You nodded, thanking her and walked there, Sarah and Kiara following not far behind.

You looked around for a few seconds, before your eyes fell on him sitting on the couch, with a blonde touron under his arm talking to Kelce while Topper was making out with a girl on the other side of the couch. Your eyes filled with tears and your jaw tightened.

Even though you were doing far worse things upstairs with Rafe, seeing this was killing you. You cleared your throat and approached them and when Y/Bf/N saw you, he removed his arm from around the touron and got up to greet you.

“Where were you? I was so worried, baby.” He said while you put on one of your fakest smiles and nodded. “I-I was in the bathroom upstairs. I felt kinda sick.” You lied, still smiling.

“Oh no. Let me order an Uber for you.” He said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“I-What?” You were furious but also really confused. “I'm feeling fine now and I want to stay but would you really just get me a fucking taxi to go home?” You asked, scoffing.

“Don't.” He said in a warning tone, raising his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and walked towards the girls.

“Let's get the fuck out of here.” Sarah advised, sending Y/Bf/N a death glare.

Sarah wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you outside towards Kiara's Jeep.

“He's a fucking douchebag. I, seriously, cannot understand what you saw in him!” Kiara exclaimed, as she put the key in the ignition. Sarah smacked her arm from the passenger seat, while you played with the hem of your dress.

“Yeah, neither do I.” You agreed.

The next morning, you woke up from your phone ringing. You groaned as you picked it up before checking on the contact name.

“Hello?” Your voice was still groggy from sleep.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, baby. I was just wondering if you'd be up for brunch at the Country Club.” Y/Bf/N suggested and you groaned once again before nodding your head even though he couldn't see you.

“Yeah, sure.” You agreed.

“Great, I'll pick you up in an hour. See you then.” He replied, smiling.

“Okay, bye.” You said, hanging up the call before he got the chance to say anything else. You looked over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, seeing as it was 9am. You got up and went into your ensuite to Take a warm shower. When you came out, your phone pinged signifying a new notification.

loml

love you

Seen 9:12 am

You just stared at the text, before leaving Sarah a voice message about what's happening. Then began getting ready, putting on one of your favorite sundresses and a pair of sandals.

When you reached the Country Club, you noticed that he was fidgeting and squirming in his seat.

“Are you okay?” You asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, yeah baby. What do you wanna eat?” He said, picking up the menu, as the waitress approached.

“I'll have the blueberry pancakes.” You ordered smiling.

“I'll…um…I'll have the eggs benedict.” He said, as the waitress thanked and took the menus before she walked away. His eyes captivated on her walk back to the counter, making you roll your eyes.

“I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have reacted that way.” He apologized. “I shouldn't have grabbed you like that, I could've handled it better. But Y/N, I feel you slipping away and I cannot lose you. I love you so so much. You're the love of my life.”

“And I know this might sound crazy but I told Lucy I'd kill myself if you ever left. That's how much I've fallen for you” He said, chuckling, recalling a conversation he had with his sister. Gazing at you starry-eyed and you wondered if anything he was saying was true.

Your mind was trying to decide what to do. If you brought up Rafe, he would storm out, creating chaos. And if you broke things off now, he would make a huge scene, embarrassing you and tarnishing your family's name and reputation. Taking everything into consideration, you remembered what your mother always told you growing up. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Last night was…eventful. I am not going to lie to you but I was hurt that you hadn't replied to me for a whole day, I was hurt that I found you with that touron. And after seeing how you've been behaving and-and treating me these last few weeks, I did not think we could recover from it. I thought we were done.” You confessed.

“I love you Y/N. You are the love of my life and I'll love for the rest of it. I'm so sorry I've ever made you feel like this. I truly am. But I am here, from now on. And I-I will change. For you.” He rambled, grabbing your hand from across the table. You smiled and nodded, letting him pull you for a kiss.

During the week, Y/Bf/N, truthfully had been a changed man. He was calling you every day to see what's up, hung out with you a lot more and even slept a few days at yours.

On Wednesday, you would be staying at Sarah's, as planned, but she had taken Wheezie on a shopping spree in the main land.

sarbear

the fucking ferry broke

might be extra late

go at mine

rafe is there

Seen 5:34pm

Your body covered with shivers, by Sarah mentioning her brother. You hadn't gotten the chance to see him after the party the previous week. You were really caught up with hanging out with Y/Bf/N, that you didn't get the chance to talk to him about what went down between you two. Even though your mind kept going back to the night of the party and the way he kissed you and touched your body.

You

hang in there

did you end up buying anything?

Seen 5:37 pm

sarbear

haul l8r

love you

sorry

Seen 5:40 pm

You

stfu

love you too

Seen 5:41 pm

After putting down your phone, you started making your bag for tonight before driving to Tannyhill. You rang the bell of the large mansion, a shirtless, tan adonis opening the door.

“Y/N? Sarah's not here.” He said, looking around the house.

“That's how you greet me? Come on, Cameron!” You smirked and he chuckled.

“Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, where are my manners?” He asked, sarcastically.

“Sar said I could wait for her here.” You continued. “If that's okay?”

“Of course, yeah. Come in.” He opened the door further for you to enter. He walked to the kitchen, where he had left the fridge door open.

“I came downstairs to grab a bite. Do you want anything? Something to drink?” He suggested closing the fridge door.

“Water's just fine.” You smiled, reaching for the cabinet with the cups, pulling the purple one you've been using since you were 9, when you and Sarah went to Ikea with her parents and got matching ones. You have the other one in your home, for whenever Sarah comes over.

You filled it up and brought it to your lips taking a sip, as Rafe was searching through the pantry for snacks. He came out holding a few bags of candy and a bag of chips. You laughed at the sight and he looked at you confused.

“What? I'm hungry. You know, Rose says I'm still growing.” He muttered in a serious tone, making you cackle.

“I'm playing GTA with the boys upstairs. Wanna join?” He asked, making you notice the headset around his neck. He was already heading towards the staircase, after he grabbed your bag, where you followed like a lost puppy.

You entered his room after him, that was dark with the curtains closed, red colored LED lights lighting it up. The room was cold due to the air-conditioning, so cold that when you went in you started shivering, trying to cover up yourself with your hands. Rafe dropped your bag on his bed and noticed your shivering figure, immediately turning the A/C off, opening the windows.

“Are you just gonna stand there? Come on.” He said, sitting down with his back on the side of his bed, his ankles crossing. You followed him and sat down beside him, grabbing one of the bags of candy when you heard him chuckle.

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“Nothing. I really wanted those Sour Patch Kids.” He replied, pointing at the bag of candy.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Take it.” You shoved it in his hand. He shook his head and put his headset back on.

“Kelce, you still there?” He asked, as he pressed some buttons on the Playstation controller and you could see a tiny person walk around on the screen.

“Can I play too?” You whispered and Rafe chuckled.

“Yo, Kelce!” He called. “Is Top joining?” He asked.

“Okay, you got about 10 minutes.” He spoke, handing you the controller, removing his headset. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“Can I punch someone? Or, or can I drive?” You asked excitedly and he nodded, showing you what buttons you have to press to steal someone's car and drive it. On your first try, you crashed on a building and started running.

“Okay, let's try again. Triangle to enter. There you go.” He encouraged you, while you threw a grandma out of her car and started driving.

“I'm doing it Rafey!” You exclaimed. “I know, I see that. Come on, press R2.” He advised, smiling at you.

“I did it!” You screamed, jumping on him when you parked the car. “That was so cool!” You whispered in the crook of his neck, as you hugged him. His hands traveled around your back, holding you close to him. When you pulled away, you stared at his blue eyes.

“S-sorry.” You apologized, getting off of his lap and removing your arms from around him.

“That's alright.” He whispered, putting the headset back on and grabbing the controller from your hand.

“Hey Kelce, you there?” He called, as you started biting your lip, chipping the nail polish off of one of your fingers, feeling embarrassed.

“You okay?” He asked, still looking at the screen. “Y/N?” He whispered and you looked at him, thinking that he spoke to one of the boys.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't want to make things awkward between us. Again.” You confessed and he nodded.

“You didn't. And I meant to talk to you about last weekend.” He admitted. “I do not regret what happened between us. And I know you probably did and I don't want to hear it. It's going to make things just worse for me. I'm already-” “Rafey.” You interrupted him. He turned to look at you, pausing the game. When you looked at his flushed from the heat cheeks and ocean blue eyes, you could not resist and every ounce of logic flew out the window. You grabbed his face and smashed your lips with his, your tongue entering his mouth as your hands traveled in his hair and chest.

“Y/N-” He pulled away “Touch me, please.” You whispered, begging him as you pulled him back on your lips. His hands faltered, as he brushed them on your back, pulling you on his lap. You both messily made out with each other, as Rafe's hands grazed your breasts and your ass, before hearing Kelce yell from the headset. You pulled away with your eyes wide.

“I have turned off the mic.” He admitted and you nodded, noticing your lipgloss, now transferred on his plump lips bringing you back to the last time you did this with him.

“You have to know I did not.” You confessed, your hand scratching the back of his head.

“Did what?” He asked, confused as Kelce continued talking on the headset.

“I did not regret it. I've wanted you for such a long time. Thought about you for such a long time. And I do want this, all of this…but-” “You're with Y/Bf/N.” He finished your sentence for you and you sighed.

“I tried to finish things off with him‐” “You love him, Y/N, I shouldn't get in the middle of this.” He said, trying to pull you off of him.

“No, no. I don't. I lo-love you.” You confessed, Rafe's eyes widened. “I do. I love you. You don't have to say anything and it may seem like I'm just saying it but I do mean it. I've loved you for such a long time.”

“Do you really mean it?” He whispered and you nodded, before Rafe crashed his lips back on yours.

“I'm so glad you said that.” He started. “Because I do too. I love you, Y/N. For, fuck, 8 years?” He scoffed and you smiled. He crashed his lips on yours again, before taking hold of the back of your thighs and swiftly lifted you in his arms before he laid you down on his bed. He removed his headset, throwing it beside the controller and then hovered over you, starting to kiss you messily once more.

His kisses started traveling down your body, slowly and gently. Your neck, your breasts, your tummy, your upper thighs.

You felt like your body was on fire, as his hands traveled on your torso, over your tank top.

“Can I?” He asked and you nodded, helping him remove it.

“Someone's eager.” He teased with a smirk on his mouth. “Very.” You answered, pulling him back to kiss him and then pushed his hand lower on your body where you needed him the most.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked and you nodded. “I need words, sweetheart.” That's all it took for you to make up your mind.

“Yes, Rafey. I want you. Your fingers, your mouth, anything.” You confessed and Rafe nodded before removing your shorts and panties in one move.

“Fuck.” He whispered. “You're gorgeous.”

Feeling more exposed than ever, you felt the need to close your legs, but he held them open.

“Don't be shy with me.” You nodded and you let him do his work on you. His fingers in delicate moves, traced your thighs and your pussy lips, before pulling them apart. You moaned, feeling his hot breath on you. He smirked, before he dove in with his mouth, licking and sucking your clit and shoving a finger in your hole. His finger entering and easily touching your sweet spot.

“Rafey!” You whimpered. He continued as he stared at your Y/E/C eyes. Moans were spilling out of your mouth as he added another finger, continuing his previous motions.

“Mine.” He whispered, kissing a spot on your upper thigh. You felt your body warming up, you were panting as he made you feel so good.

“Rafe, I-” “Go on, baby.” He encouraged, as in the span of a few seconds you felt the coil inside you snapping, cumming all over his face.

“Fuck.” You whispered, his face covered in your juices. He pulled his fingers out of you and pulled them in your mouth, making you moan once more.

“Than-” “Don't. It was my pleasure.” He exclaimed, coming over and kissing your lips, letting you taste yourself.

“Do you want me to help you?” You suggested, taking a glance at his cock, now hard and begging to get out of the confined space. “You don't have to.” He quickly brushed you off, shaking his head. He got off of you and into his ensuite to grab a towel so he could clean you up.

“Thanks.” You whispered, when he returned to bed. “You can take a shower, if you want.” He suggested, giving you yet another kiss.

“Y/N? Rafe?” Sarah's voice was heard.

“Shit.” You cursed, noticing you were still naked on Rafe's bed. He grabbed your articles of clothing and handed them quickly to you, as you did your fastest to put them on. Just in time, Sarah opened the door, finding you dressed sitting on Rafe's bed and he had fallen on the floor to grab his controller and headset, whilst also trying to cover his erection.

“I am so sorry. This day has been so chaotic. Come on, Wheezie wants to show you her new clothes!” She said, entering further into the room. You got up from your place on the bed, grabbing your bag.

“See you later, Rafe.” You greeted as Sarah pulled you out of the room, he winked at you and you chuckled before closing the door.

You and Sarah were watching 'The Breakfast Club’ in her bed, when Sarah fell asleep on your shoulder, drooling on your sleep shirt. Your phone pinged, from the night table beside you and you grabbed it smiling.

rafey

you asleep?

Seen 11:39 pm

You

not yet

your sister is tho

Seen 11:41 pm

rafey

fuck

i wanted to see you

finish what we started

Seen 11:43 pm

You bit your lip and smirked at his suggestion

You

i wish

btw i am going to talk to Y/Bf/N

break up w him

i don't want to lie to either of you

i want to be with you

if you want as well

i mean

we do not have to rush things

but it's up to you

Seen 11:47 pm

The dots on your screen disappeared, coming back minutes later

rafey

i wanna be w you

i love you Y/N

Seen 11:53 pm

You

i love you

good night

Seen 11:55 pm

“Can you grab me my water bottle?” Sarah said groggily and you smiled, handing her the bottle beside you. She took a few sips, before wrapping her arms around your torso and falling back asleep.

Saturday came around and it was a special one as you had planned a movie night with your best friends in Tannyhill.

Y/Bf/N had begun being distant again. You had called him many times since your last encounter with Rafe, to meet up and talk. But he never answered.

When all of your friends arrived, everyone sat around the living room as you helped Sarah carry the snacks and drinks from the kitchen. When you came out, you saw that there was one spot left besides John B, probably kept for Sarah. You looked around and saw Rafe smirking and nodding in his direction. You followed and stood in front of him.

“We can share.” He whispered, smirking. “If you'd like.” You nodded, seeing him make space on the loveseat. Before you could sit down, he pulled most of your weight to sit on his lap.

“Rafe!” You warned, whispering, pointing with your eyes to all of your friends.

“Don't worry, sweetheart.” He whispered in your ear, before he pulled a blanket over your legs. You made yourself comfortable on his lap, as his hands traveled low from your waist on your thighs, where your breath hitched.

“You're gonna have to be quiet. Can you do that princess?” He whispered in your ear and you nodded.

His fingers stroked your thighs, as you bit your lip trying to contain any sound from coming out.

“Y/N, what do you think we should watch?” Sarah asked, still looking on her phone searching for a movie, John B kissing the side of her head.

“I don't mind.” You whimpered, as Rafe brushed his fingers over your clothed private parts. “I'm okay with everything.”

His hand passed the elastic of your shorts and your panties, cupping your pussy. You shuddered and bit your lips once again, when you felt one of his fingers opening you up.

“You're soaking wet and I have barely touched you.”

“Rafe, it's already hard as it is to stifle my sighs and moans. Don't start with the dirty talk.”

The assault in you continued happening, Rafe pressing a few kisses on the side of your neck too before bringing you to an orgasm. You bit your hand, as you released.

“You okay Y/N/N?” Kiara asked, from the couch. You looked at her and nodded.

“Yeah, I just think I'm having cramps or something. I'll go grab a painkiller.” You said, raising yourself from Rafe's lap, making him adjust in his seat and running to the closest bathroom to clean up and throw some water on your face to cool down. Thankful that no one suspected anything.

It was Thursday when you were talking on the phone Rafe, about your birthday party that was on Saturday when your doorbell rang.

“Hold on, someone's at the door.” You said, walking from the kitchen to the front door, seeing that it's Kiara.

“It's Kie. I'll talk to you later.” You assured him.

“Okay, I love you.” He left a relieved sigh and you smiled, even if he couldn't see you.

“I love you too. Bye.” You hung up, before opening the door. “Hey, Kie. What's up?” You smiled kindly at her, but the look on her face made you wipe it off right away.

“I need to talk to you.” She exclaimed and you opened the door further so she could get in.

“You're scaring me, what's going on?” You asked her, as she sat down on a stool in front of the kitchen island.

“I was going to J’s and when I was going through the Cut, I saw Y/Bf/N's car parked outside of Barry's.” She explained, you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Barry? The guy who sells weed?” You scoffed.

“Yeah. Well he doesn't sell just weed, you know that right?” She explains but you feel lost. “Coke, Y/N.”

“What?” You were confused. Y/Bf/N has never done anything other than weed.

“He wouldn't-” “ I saw him walking out holding a baggie of a white substance.”

Your face dropped. You couldn't believe your ears.

“What the actual fuck?” You whispered.

“Have you talked with him? I figured he didn't tell you about that.” Kie explained.

“I haven't since last week, no. I have called him multiple times but he has completely ignored me. It's like I don't even exist. And especially after our last talk, all his empty promises about changing. Fuck.” You rambled, Kiara nodding, holding your hand. This conversation making you consider if he was high at the Country Club when he was apologizing or the party where he grabbed you.

“You told him about this Saturday?” She asked and you nodded. “Yeah, last week. I don't know if he still remembers though.”

“Try calling him again and if he doesn't answer, don't bother anymore. We all knew he was an asshole, but treating you like this? And on top of it all, he does drugs? This guy is dangerous, Y/N.”

“Thank you for coming all the way here to tell me Kie, I really appreciate it. And I know. I…I'm kind of trying to break things off. I deserve better.” You whispered the last part, making Kie smile and squeeze your upper arm before she got up and left. You immediately grabbed your phone calling Y/Bf/N three times, with no luck of him answering.

You

you better have a good explanation as to why you don't answer my calls or texts for more than a fucking week

i really need to talk to you

it's important

Sent 12:28 pm

On Saturday morning, you had started prepping the house, cleaning up even if it will get absolutely destroyed later and putting up the decorations Sarah bought from Party City. Your phone pinged, signifying a notification and you pulled it from the back pocket of your shorts.

rafey

good morning

happy birthday sweetheart

i love you

do you want me to come over and help?

Seen 10:23 am

You smiled at his texts, quickly replying before Sarah sees you slacking off. And also because she doesn't know about you and Rafe yet.

You

thank you so much rafey

i love you too

no it's okay

your sister is here to help

gtg

Seen 10:26 am

In the evening, you and Sarah had started getting ready. She had helped you with your hair and you were now doing your makeup when your phone rang.

“Oh, it's my brother. Want me to pick it up?” Sarah asked, as you applied your eyeliner.

“No, just leave it.” You answered before she handed it to you.

“Y/N, I'm not stupid. I've seen you and him all these years. How close you always have been.” She confessed. “And I know that something is going on with you two. And I am happy for you two. Truly.”

“You're not upset?” You asked cautiously, putting down the eyeliner and your phone.

“I am more upset that you didn't tell me anything. Of course I am happy for you two. My brother may be an idiot and sometimes a total asshole, but he never has been to you. I just want what's best for you. For either one of you.” You got up and hugged her tightly, as you thanked her profusely.

“I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want, Sar.” You whispered.

“At least now you don't have to sneak into his room while I'm sleeping.” She joked and you looked at her with widened eyes.

“You knew?” You asked and she nodded.

“I was fucking awake dude. And you didn't do a good job at being quiet.” She continued. “In or out of my bedroom.”

“Sar!” You warned.

“Just make sure that I don't get a niece or nephew anytime soon.” She smirked and you grabbed a pillow from your bed and threw it on her. “Shut up!” You screamed, chuckling.

After an hour of getting ready and pre-gaming with Sarah, the guests started coming. Soon the house was filled with Kooks and Pogues, even some tourons.

You in a short purple sequined dress searched around the house for the one person who you were hoping had already arrived. People stopped you to wish you and give you presents and others invited you for drinks but you refused continuing your search for Rafe.

When you entered the kitchen to grab a drink, you saw many familiar faces approaching you.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” Kelce yelled, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around while you giggled.

“Happy birthday!” Topper approached, after Kelce put you down, to hug you.

“Thank you guys!” You spoke with a wide smile on your face as you looked around the kitchen.

“He's on his way! Sarah asked him to pick up more ice.” Topper pulled you closer and talked into your ear.

“W-who?” You asked, still going on with the act.

“We know, Y/N.” He smirked. “We are really happy for you two. Rafe has always had a crush on you. He was non stop talking or making everything about you. It was fucking time you two got together.”

You chuckled and nodded at Topper.

“Thank you, Top.” You whispered, making Topper wink at you. “Anytime.”

“Hello there, my birthday girl!” You felt strong arms wrapping around your waist, like they always did and his chin on your shoulder. You looked on your side and smiled.

“Hey!” You whispered and he leaned in for a kiss which you accepted. You hummed as he tried to deepen it, but you pulled away.

“I brought ice.” He pulled away to show you the bags of ice and you chuckled, pointing where to put them.

“And I brought you this.” He showed you a small black bag in his other hand. “I know you said that I shouldn't get you anything but I couldn't help myself.” You smiled and pecked his lips once more.

“You really didn't have to. But thank you.” You thanked him as he grabbed one of your hands in his.

“Wanna go somewhere quiet? So you can open it?” He asked and you nodded, pulling him with you towards the staircase. You got upstairs and unlocked your bedroom door, getting inside with your lover. When you closed the door, Rafe pinned you against it smirking.

“Don't get any ideas, Cameron!” You warned and Rafe groaned, before leaning in kissing your lips and then your jawline and neck. You pushed him backwards before things could escalate further and pulled him to sit on the bed beside you.

“It's not a big deal. I just hope you like it.” He handed the black bag to you and you smiled, opening it eagerly. You pulled out a black velvet box and an envelope. You opened the box, revealing a beautiful chain with Rafe's initial in diamonds.

“Rafe!” You whimpered, your eyes gathering tears.

“No crying on your birthday, sweetheart!” He warned, quick to wipe a tear that fell down. “You'll ruin your makeup.” He added, making you nod and try to stop the tears.

“I love it!” You said, genuinely.

You then opened the envelope and smiled at the scrawny handwriting.

Y/N,

Happy Birthday my love. I hope that it's a good one. It's the first of so many we have spent together that I get to call you ‘mine’, in some way. I hope you love the necklace. It's a reminder that I really know you, I don't own you (Yes, I did listen to Taylor Swift). I love you. Forever and Always.

-your Rafey

“Rafe! This is so cute! How can I not cry?” You wondered, hugging him tightly. He rubbed your back to try and calm you down.

“Can you help me put it on?” You asked, pulling away from him as he nodded, grabbing the box and removing the necklace carefully. You moved your hair on one side, as he put it on you and did the clasp in the back. You held the letter on your fingers, before leaning in and kissing him once more.

“It's the best gift anyone has gotten me.” Rafe smiled and got up.

“I'm glad. But now there are so many people down there waiting to celebrate with you and even though I feel honored to be up here, we should get downstairs.” He continued. “And because that dress is really distracting and I won't be able to resist if we stay any longer.” You chuckled and got off your bed, walked out of your room with him and locked the door.

Downstairs the party was going in full swing. Some people were dancing in the living room, others playing beer pong in the dining room and others were just drinking and mingling with everyone.

You were dancing with Rafe in the middle of the living room, all eyes on you two. Your fingers entwined and cheeks pink in the twinkling lights. There in your glittering prime as the lights refracted sequin stars off your silhouette.

“I'm gonna go get a drink. Want anything?” Rafe whispered in your ear and you shook your head.

“No, I'm fine. Thanks.” You replied, shaking your hips from side to side, Rafe squeezing your hip. “I'll be right back.” He pressed a kiss on your temple, before unwrapping his arms from around you and walking towards the kitchen.

On his way back, his sister stopped him, pointing at you.

“She's having the time of her life" She smiled. “Don't fucking ruin it.” Sarah warned before she noticed the one person none of you wanted there, entering the house.

“Shit's about to go down.” She nodded her head towards Y/Bf/N walking in the house with Barry and a girl under his arm. Rafe's eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched.

“I'll take care of it.” Rafe exclaimed. “Just get Y/N. Keep her away.” Sarah nodded, already walking in your direction.

“Sar!” You yelled over the music, the drinks making you a little tipsy.

“Hey, Y/N/N. Are you having fun?” Sarah asked, smiling at you.

“So much!” You started. “Where's Rafey? Have you seen him?” You asked excitedly, searching around for him. Sarah pulled you closer and hugged you tightly in her chest, trying to make you avoid any sighting of Y/Bf/N.

“I love you so much!” Sarah exclaimed and you smiled wider, looking up at her. “I love you too, Sarbear. You okay?” You asked, worry filling you.

“Yeah, just fi-” “There's a fight going on outside!” A touron yelled, grabbing everyone's attention, including yours.

“What?” You pulled away from Sarah, shocked.

“It's probably drunk tourons fighting. It's no biggie.” Sarah shrugged and you examined her face carefully.

“What? Oh” You realized. “It's Rafe, isn't it?”

“Y/N/N-” “Don't fucking lie to me, Sar.” You warned and she nodded slowly, before you took off running outside on your porch, as well as you could with your high heels. You pushed people to pass and find him. You needed to find him. You caught a glimpse of the back of his head, before you pushed some others ending up locking eyes with Y/Bf/N.

“There she fucking is!” He yelled, making everyone that had surrounded the two guys, look at you. Rafe turned around and came close to you.

“Go inside, sweetheart.” He advised and you shook your head when his hands touched your shoulders. Sarah came up running behind you, pulling you away.

“No, I'm not going anywhere. This is stupid.” You admitted, stepping up in front of Y/Bf/N. Rafe was close behind you, in case something happened.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, looking at him in disgust.

“Come on, baby. It's your birthday, I couldn't miss it.”

His eyes were bloodshot, white powder still on the bottom of his nose. You scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Like you ever cared.” You started. “You came here to what? Win me back? Tell me that you'll change?”

“Y/N, baby, I love you so much. I'm sorry.”

“You don't get to come here and tell me you feel bad. You have said that I'm the love of your life about a fucking million times and you didn't mean it once! You only wanted to show me off in public, whilst all you did was slide into inboxes and slip through bars. You have fucking hurt me time and time again. And like the fool I am, I fucking believed you.” You rambled, everyone looking at you as Rafe yelled at them to leave.

“Y/N, you don't mean any of that. You love me too. Come on now. Fucking behave.” He exclaimed, approaching you.

“I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning of yours.” You scoffed.

“Was any of it true? Did none of our time together mean anything to you? Are you that heartless? Or did you really think I'm that stupid and I'd let you treat me like shit so you could get your dick wet?” You asked, pushing him.

“Stop it.” He whispered, his jaw clenching.

“Here, everyone! The smallest man who ever lived!” You yelled, making a show for everyone.

“Y/N, I said stop it! Fucking bitch.” He scoffed.

“And you know what? You never measured up in any measurе of a man.” You chuckled, as people around you hollered and laughed.

Y/Bf/N furrowed his eyebrows in anger, launching towards you. Right before your eyes, he was suddenly on the ground, with Rafe on top of him pushing him on the grass.

“Still pussy-whipped Cameron? She's too high up her ass to even notice you.” Y/Bf/N said, while struggling to get up with Rafe's weight holding him down. Rafe turned him around and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“I'll give you about 5 seconds to get the fuck away from here. You'll never bother Y/N again. And if I see you around, I won't hesitate to fucking rip you apart.” He spat on his face, before getting off of him. Y/Bf/N got up and raised his middle finger towards you, before walking away.

“Good riddance asshole!” You yelled.

Rafe sighed, wrapping his arms around your shoulder pulling you into a hug.

“Go back inside folks! The party's back on!” Sarah shouted, making everyone run inside the house.

“You okay?” Rafe whispered in your ear, after ensuring no one could bother you two. You nodded.

“Thanks to you.” You confessed. “If you hadn't been here…I don't even want to think about what he could have done.” Your body shook and Rafe hugged you tighter.

“You're okay.” He kissed the temple of your head. “I'm right here. Always will be.”

You turned your head, grabbing his head and pulling him closer to you, attaching your lips to his.

“Now, let's go celebrate me!” You smiled, walking towards your house, making Rafe chuckle.

Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer

A/N: i have been working on this since ttpd came out. i tried my best to add as many taylor references and if you're not a fan of her music, i'm sorry lol. hope you liked this, it's finally yours!!! also huge thank you to @rafeandonlyrafe for proofreading and helping me with her support and love!!!!!

[katakaluptastrophy]

Continuing to think about the horror of what happens to John, and the horrors of love...

When Alecto has first been created, she says to him "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" and "What have you done to me?"

They're heartbreaking questions she has every right to ask, but there's something awful and ironic about them too. Because John also might have asked "what have you done to me?"

It's easy to get distracted by the cartoonish awfulness of John's own narration: "talk about police abuse", "come on, love. Guys as careful as me don't have accidents," "love a working tram system." But all of these comments come after moments where John has unwittingly come into proximity with violent death, an experience he repeatedly likens to having drugs forcibly injected into him; an omniscient, dream-like, out of body experience that seems to propel him forward through his basest impulses. The first time this happens, he's brought back from "the verge of something insane" by being shaken violently by P-. Lines like these aren't revealing John's diabolical plotting. They're a man who would rather own atrocities as premeditated than admit that he was losing his grip.

The second is when he encounters the soul of the earth. His human mind makes contact with the incoherent, furious soul of a planet. In any other context, this would be straightforwardly Lovecraftian. And everything he describes after that is full of elipses, jumbled, and detached. His friends are shot by gun-toting cultists and he says it was like a dream.

Hearing the earth screaming, feeling his friends' deaths under his skin like a drug, he might well have asked "what have you done to me?"

Alecto said to him, "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" But as everything collapses, John says:

"I thought you were going to take me, somehow. Purge me. Use me as an instrument. But you didn't say anything...I was babbling, Show me. Come on. I'm ready. You kept screaming and screaming..."

John has spent months becoming something terrifying, an entity with yellow eyes and uncanny powers. He's discovered that death has an overwhelming impact on him that he cannot fully control. Everyone was relying on him to do something. And he did so many things: well-meaning things and stupid things and things that were lashing out in rage and frustration. Hundreds of people have died because of him. His friends have died because of him. Surely, surely there was a point to this. Surely there was meaning. Surely whatever did this to him, made him into this, had a greater plan.

But there is no plan. There is no great revelation. He tries to hurt the earth, to provoke some kind of answer, but the screaming continues. And when P dies, the person who snapped him out of it the last time, John lets go and the whole world dies.

John is kneeling on the grass vomiting up dirt and tearing out his own ribs, saying "there was still too much of me that was just a human being...", trying to swallow the soul of the earth. And by the end, the one shred he has to hold onto is a memory of playing with a doll as a child. That, and his anger...

The earth tried to reach out in the only way it could, amidst its incoherent suffering. And John tried to use the abilities it gave him, but he was only human. Fallible and proud and angry.

She said, "I still love you." And the horror; the horror of love, the horror of this story, is that to begin with they did this to each other.

To be clear: I don't mean to diminish the awfulness or the very specific forms that John's violence against Alecto takes, and continues to take across the story. I don't mean to excuse his own self-mythologisation. I certainly don't think he's blameless for the decisions he made and the agenda he pursued. But if there's one thing that happens over and over again in TLT, it's that the horror of love is not a one-way street.

And I wonder, in light of what we now know about the permeability of the soul, quite where John ends and Alecto begins. And when that blurring began...

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can I ask for revenge for hurt s/o with fem reader and Thomas Hewitt, maybe reader is a neighbour to the Hewitt's and her and Thomas become close over time, and maybe their latest victims are there and reader goes over to the house as well, and it's an all fight between everyone but someone cuts reader bad and maybe Thomas sees red and she is the only one to calm him down, and then they kiss

.⋆｡Anything For You｡⋆.

Thomas Hewitt x plus size reader

Thomas has always been your sanctuary but now, he would be your protector too

Warnings: death of parents, fire, murder, friends to lovers, angst, getting stabbed, violence, knives, happy ending, protective!Thomas WC: 1.9k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You liked the quiet of your farm. Just you and your animals and the family across the way, it was peaceful. It was all you had ever known. 

Your family moved to Fuller when you were barely a month old, buying up a small farm on the edge of town in hopes of laying down some roots. Life was peaceful, at least until the town began to decay. Less and less children would enrol in school every year, less cars on the roads. Even the fire station shut down as the last family moved out from the city centre. And that led to the death of your parents.

A spark from a frayed cable in the basement landed on a pile of newspapers, setting them alight. It had been a dry summer, far more than usual, and there was no lack of kindling for the blaze. You chose to sleep in the barn that night, wishing to rest beside the newborn calves. Your parents had indulged your silly request, not realising that it would save your life.

You could vividly remember the smell of smoke as it bellowed out from the shattered windows of your home. The dogs howled from their kennels while you ran onto the dirt road leading to the Hewitt household. You banged on their door, begging for them to save your parents.

But even with Monty and Charlie doing their best to put out the fire, no help was coming. You were forced to watch from the comfort of Luda Mae’s arms as your entire world turned to ash.

You lived with the Hewitts for a long time after that, being that you had no other family, as the small farm house was rebuilt. By the time you were 19, you had a new home and a deep friendship with the younger Hewitt brother. Thomas had always been kind to you in the brief moments you had seen each other, but it became something more when you became a daily fixture in his life. 

He showed you how he did his chores around their own farm, took care of the animals and crops on yours when you could not bear to look upon the mound that used to be your home. And in turn, you treated him with more kindness than he had ever experienced. You never faltered at his appearance nor his size, in fact you always found ways to compliment him. You taught him to read and write, and later on, how to use sign language after your schooling ended, even if he only ever used it with you. 

You were his best friend and he was yours.

Perhaps that’s why he never encouraged you to leave as the rest of his family did.

Having finished your morning chores, you sat on the small porch in front of your house with a cup of tea and the book you had been meaning to read, eager to soak in some sun before the Texan heat rolled through. Just as you were getting to a particularly juicy section where the gentle giant farm hand had finally kissed the farmer’s daughter in the barn, a shrill scream cut through the faint buzz of the cicadas.

“What the-“ You tilted your head, waiting for another sound but none came. Leaning over your porch railing, you could just about see the edge of the Hewitt’s driveway and noticed their truck was missing as was Hoyt’s police car. A warm breeze rustled the wheat growing along your property line. 

A sour feeling gnawed at your stomach, urging you to grab your sunhat from its peg by the front door and take the short walk over to the dilapidated home. 

Thomas would be at work already and if Luda Mae wasn’t home, then neither would Charlie since his old age was starting to get to him. Maybe an animal had gotten hurt, you mused as if trying to convince yourself that the scream couldn’t have possibly been human.

“Hello?” The screen door was firmly shut but you couldn’t quite see anything in the dark hallway. You’d have to remind Luda Mae to open up the windows when she left the house for the day, again. 

The floorboards creaked as something moved around. You glanced over your shoulder, hoping to see Thomas’s hulking figure walking up the driveway to save you from having to go in and investigate. But alas, only a toad sat on the gravel, looking up at you with a bored expression, as much as a toad can have.

“If I get murdered, Thomas gets all my stuff.” You pointed at it before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

A coppery smell clung to the stale air, an almost constant of the home but today, it set you more on edge. After three years of living there, you could’ve navigated the house blindfolded but as you passed the switch, you flicked on the lights somehow hoping it would ease the twisting in your stomach.

“Hello?” You called again, passing by the kitchen, not noticing the now empty knife block. The basement door was open. “Hoyt I swear to god if this is you trying to be funny, I’ll kick your ass.” You glanced down the basement stairs, but only the single hanging bulb was visible in the dark. 

Just as you were turning to continue your search, something heavy threw itself into your chest, sending you down the steps. You slammed hard against the concrete floor, the air was ripped from your lungs violently as your ears began to ring. Footsteps thudded down the stairs. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as you tried desperately to breathe. 

“Get that rope.” You reached for the leg of Thomas’s workbench, your vision beginning to tunnel. A hand grabbed at your shoulder, forcing you onto your back. 

“She-she’s not one of them.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter! She’s here isn’t she?” 

“Please.” You wheezed but you were only met with a fist to your jaw. Your eyes rolled.

“C’mon we can make a run for it now. We don’t have to hurt her.” The voices were growing distant.

“Would you just shut the fuck… up.” The last word trailed off as something else caught their attention. You dug your heels into the floor in an attempt to push yourself away from the two voices. The ache in your stomach was starting to ease but you still couldn’t fill your lungs all the way. 

Darkness suddenly covered you as the light from the dining room vanished. “Please.” You tried again but you were only met with silence. Wood creaked and suddenly, you were hauled up. 

“Get any closer and I’ll slit her fucking throat.” The cold metal of a blade pressed itself against your neck. A bitten off whimper slid past your lips as the tip dug into your skin. Your vision began to clear as adrenaline rushed through your veins. A huge shadow loomed at the top of the stairs, silently watching as the two people holding you back panicked.

“Thomas.” You tried to reach out to him. You caught the glint of metal before he raised his arm and threw a meat cleaver directly into the forehead of the one that had tried to run. They dropped like a sack of potatoes, eyes wide with fear as the life quickly left them. 

“Shut up you stupid bitch!” Their hold on you got looser as Thomas took one step forwards. His eyes glinted with anger, a rage you had never witnessed in your gentle giant before. His hands were curled into fists so tight that his knuckles were white, his shoulders raised, making him look even bigger.

You could feel the body behind you trembling as he steadily got closer. “Stay back!” But their tone wavered. You were pulled backwards as Thomas reached the middle of the stairs. “I’ll fucking kill her!” 

As slowly as you could, you began to reach into your front pocket for the small knife you always kept on you. The one Thomas had given you on your 16th birthday. His eyes flicked to you at your movement. You hissed as the knife against your throat pressed in deeper, nicking the delicate skin.

A sound akin to a growl rumbled through the basement. “Thomas no-“ The words had barely escaped you when suddenly the knife was pulled from your neck and shoved into your side. Coldness exploded from the wound like you had been plunged into a frozen lake as your body fell forwards.

A scream echoed through the home but it didn’t sound like your voice. It was warped and all wrong. You fell against something solid but also somehow soft. Its warmth drew your mind back for a moment, just enough to watch as one of Thomas’ massive hands coiled around the other man’s throat and squeezed with all his might.

He thrashed and struggled but he was no match for Thomas. There was a crunch, and then he went limp, his head lolling strangely on his neck. Thomas dropped his body like it was a piece of trash before all his attention shifted to you. 

Your own body was shaking in his hold but you were the furthest thing from scared. With the same hand he had just used to kill someone, he pressed down on your side, stopping the bleeding as best he could. “It’s ok, you saved me Thomas.” He shook his head, his dark hair falling in front of his face. 

He eased you back onto the workbench making you wince as the first tinges of pain began to appear. “Thomas.” You reached for him but he stepped away from you and darted into the darkness of the basement. He was rummaging through something. You heard glass break while you clutched at your stomach. 

His lumbering footsteps returned and the bulb above you flicked on with a gentle hum. A bright red box was in his hands which he was looking through as he rushed back to you. “Talk to me.” You urged. He glanced at you then sighed heavily. 

Not yet, he gestured and pulled out a thick bandage. You let out a huffed laugh, letting him pull up your now ruined shirt to get access to the wound. His eyes narrowed before he let out a breath of relief. Not deep.

You bit down on your lip as he wrapped the bandage around your plush stomach, pulling it as tight as he could without causing you more pain than necessary. “Thank you for saving me.” He helped you to sit up, taking care not to put too much strain on you.

His bulk was all you could see now. He cupped your cheek, a move far bolder than you expected from the shy man. You nuzzled into his touch, unable to stop yourself. “You did so good Tommy.” He nodded and you finally smiled. His head dipped down as his eyes flicked to yours with a silent question, one you had been waiting for since you were 15. 

It was you who leaned in first, capturing his chapped lips in a kiss that was long overdue. He was frozen for just a second then melted into it, naturally meeting the soft push and pull of your mouth in a way that made your brain go fuzzy that wasn’t purely shock. He hesitated when he pulled away but he didn’t go far, only putting enough space between you in order to meet your gaze once more.

“Protect.” His voice deep and rough from disuse but as he gathered you into his arms and tugged you against his broad chest, you knew that he would do anything to do just that. And you couldn’t help but smile through the pain.

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[girlbossblackbeard]

THOUGHTS AND LAYERS

i spent literally an hour analyzing this trailer at 0.5 speed. this post is long af and these thoughts are in no particular order and are poorly organized:

-there's a big storm (which I think was already confirmed), and ed gets swept overboard by a bucket on a rope:

he then crawls up out of the water onto the beach

then goes into the forest, creates a hut, has a journey of healing and self-discovery, meets hornigold (or his ghost??)

and kills him thus killing the part of himself that he hated the most (his violence) as a parallel to stede finally getting rid of nigel's ghost by accepting and believing in himself

-in the stede/ed split screen, the stede shot is from the first ep of s2 right after stede finds the marooned crew at the end of ep 10 in s1 (you can tell bc his hair and clothes are still clean, there's no gay bandana around his neck, and that's his lil dinghy buttons is rowing)

-they go to shore and wind up at the merchants shop where "susan" overhears they're tracking down blackbeard

and she invites stede's crew onto her ship, cue the outfit change in the BTS photos:

-the way stede makes that little swishy turn in the red coat -

makes me think this may be first time he's been in fine clothes since his "death" and i hope we get a moment of him reflecting on how he gave up everything for ed only to have him hate him :( but then obviously realizing that ed is worth it and he'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting a chance at spending the rest of his life with him

-izzy and stede team up, and izzy is clearly training either himself or stede on the revenge (?)

soooooo many questions: what caused him to leave ed and join stede's crew? is he fighting with ed and is training to take him out or is he just done having his love be unrequited so he leaves and just so happens to stumble into stede? is izzy thinking that if he can't cut out the longing he has for ed he has to kill him instead so the pain will go away? what, pray tell, the fuck is going on in here on this day

-wee john in the mermaid costume (and olu in a bunny or donkey costume?):

a fuckery? or just a weird acid trip? OR IS IT THE TALENT SHOW THEY NEVER GOT TO HAVE??

-ed really does force everyone on his crew to wear war paint

-all the tally marks scratched into the walls - is that the number of days since stede bonnet broke ed's heart?

-ed in the forest in PEARL NECKLACE HELLOW????????

-the tear in ed's eye as he moves the cake toppers closer together which he also painted to make the lady look more like him he literlaly is in love wiht stede so bad wht the FUCJ

-ed's crew is murdering SO MANY PEOPLE at the wedding wtf (pic not included bc scary)

-delusional moment but i hope anne bonny on stede's lap is looking at calico jack off screen

-stede and ed are running towards each other on the black sand beach (thank you @sluterastede for pointing this out to me wtf!!!!!!)

which evolves my theory that ed in the forest goes through his healing journey and realizes he wants to openly love stede again but then the navy attack and stede just so happens to have found ed at the same time and they're fighting to get to each other and taking out everyone in their way (what if that was okracoke lmao)

-the swede and spanish jackie hooking up in the trailer

makes me think the bts shot of ed and jackie is them looking at stede and the swede, and ed being SO in love with stede obvi but jackie is watching the swede do some weirdly hot shit so she's gotta have him (what if they got married and he became her umpteenth husband in a drunken vegas-like shotgun wedding where she wakes up the next day to realize what has happened lmao)

-also this pic is DEF from the reunited/make up era bc ed's half-up hair, no makeup, soft eyes, and buttons' clothing. i am weeping

-stede in pain - is it an injury or a tattoo? or torture as @sluterastede posits?? he looks down at his lower body before screaming so maybe he knows what's about to happen to him??

-ed in the forest wearing the pearl necklace (see above), ed saying "fuck you stede bonnet" wearing the pearl necklace (see below)

does he pick it up at the wedding??? (theory credit to @sluterastede!!!! can u tell we watched the trailer together 400 times) i can't tell if he's wearing it in the one wide shot of him in that scene:

but regardless of when he acquires it, does he take it bc he remembers stede said he wears fine things well???? and he starts to believe he may deserve them??

-side note about a LACK of something: ed isn't wearing the cravat at all in the trailer near as i can tell, and he's not wearing the pearl necklace when throwing knives at the wall (at least from what I can see, which is not much) which leads me to believe that scene is in the earlier part of the season

-lastly, the most important song lyrics from the trailer (the beautiful ones by prince):

and that's my dissertation on the ofmd season 2 teaser trailer thank you

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Fear is a Dangerous Thing (Part 10)

A friend edited this for me because my brain is so mushy today but I haven't checked their work. Let me know if you find anything wrong.

TW: Torture, child abuse, descriptions of violence, panic attacks

Previous | Masterpost

Tim led the way to the meeting hall and opened the door to the meeting room where a bunch of the core members of the JL were already sitting. “Right, thank you for coming,” Tim started as Nightwing ushered the rest of them into the room, leading them to four empty chairs that were probably supposed to be for the teens and Nightwing. Instead the rest of the Teen Titans stood in the back and Hyena and Phantasm were sat between Hood and Nightwing. The collected members of the JL made various sounds of shock and anger at the sight of them, (Constantine looked green around the gills).

Robin completely ignored all of them and carried on as if nothing was wrong. “I’ve recently become aware of a troubling conspiracy that the Justice League must not be aware of.”

“Robin, what are they doing here?” Batman growled, watching Hyena and Hood warily.

“Phantasm is the newest member to Teen Titans, and both she and Hyena have been directly harmed by this conspiracy, so I invited them both to be here,” Robin said calmly. “Besides, though I independently verified all of it, the majority of my information originally came from Hyena. So if you have any questions at the end they’d probably be best directed to him.” Batman opened his mouth again and Robin raised his voice slightly, “Hold your questions till after the presentation please,” Robin chided before he switched to the next slide and carried on as if nothing had happened.

The presentation contained just about everything they needed to know, about the anti-ecto acts and the entire group of people that they targeted including a few members of the JL if the GIW ever got brave enough. It included that they had been experimenting on sentient and sapient beings and killed multiple people, that they were affiliated with the government and had plans for weapons of mass destruction specifically targeting these beings, and that they had taken over a small town and instilled a complete media blackout.

In other words they were unethical and illegal and the fact that the JL had allowed it to happen was nearly unforgivable.

“That concludes my presentation,” Robin announced, “If there are any-”

“Before you wrap up I have some… supplemental material. Because it’s one thing to hear about it and another thing to see it. I want you to see it,” Hyena interrupted with venom in his voice as he got up. Robin looked confused but he surrendered the projector remote to Hyena and allowed him to plug in his USB. Before he started it Hyena went back to his seat and glanced at Phantasm, hesitating for a moment.

“Little Star, would you mind leaving the room? Or coming here. I don’t want you to see this,” Danny said softly and Phantasm looked at him, judging his expression for a moment before she nodded and slid out of her chair and onto his lap. She had regressed just a little after everything, acting younger and more subservient for lack of a better word. She allied allowed  him to cup the back of her neck and hide her face against his shoulder before he started clicking through the images.

The first one was a picture of him as Phantom with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, then the death certificates of everyone in the photo besides him. Next was a picture of Phantom when he’d first been captured by the GIW, crying, collared and gagged, looking at the person behind the camera with a pleading expression and obvious fear. There were many more after that, all bloody. They had kept a proper muzzle on him the entire time so he couldn’t scream, so his face was hidden somewhat. They showed him with his arms cut open or even off, his chest cut open and broken apart so you could see all his organs, his throat dissected and the skin pinned apart, and many worse things.

With each picture the life faded from his eyes, he was still alive in all of them but the fear, and pain, and any possible hope died in his eyes as he dissociated from the situation over years. Then there was a collection of other images, Ellie strapped to a table, destabilizing, then in the tube. Vlad’s intake photo collared and bound, then his autopsy. Ember with her arm cut off and screaming. Finally a somewhat blurry photo Danny had taken himself after his escape of the makeshift stitches and bulging wound, he had to just shove a few organs back in after all, the blood, pus, and ectoplasm leaking out of it. Someone gagged, Danny didn’t look to see who.

“In that first photo I had just turned 16, the GIW took me soon after that, killing everyone who tried to protect me from them. They kept me for two years, you just saw what they did, and the results. The GIW may seem inept, and they often are, but they are also sadistic and ruthless. They do real harm. Phantasm and I are the only people still alive to testify about it, and only then because I’m functionally immortal and she destabilized before they could get far.”

Once he finished he turned off the projector and let Ellie up and off of his lap, allowing her to slip back into her seat as he got up to grab his USB. The room was silent for a long moment, everyone's expressions ranging from furious, to heartbroken, to dissociated. Martian Manhunter, Wonder Woman, and Zatana in particular looked like they would like to tear the entire organization apart with their bare hands right now!

Jason felt a bit sick. He really would have liked a warning that Danny was going to do that because, even though he had seen the scars, it was a very different thing to see the wounds themselves. They were just as extensive as he had feared. At least now he understood why Danny had had so many panic attacks this week, if he’d been setting that up in the background it was half a wonder he hadn’t had more!

“What do you mean you're functionally immortal?” Batman demanded.

“They’re threatening the Infinite Realms?” Constantine squeaked.

“How have we let them get away with this!” Lamented Martian Manhunter.

All three nearly at the same time, it was an explosion of sound as a few others spoke as well, or tried to respond. Jason wrapped an arm around Danny’s shoulder, feeling him shaking a little bit, that had been very brave of him and Jason did think it would have the effect Danny wanted, but this explosion of emotion had to get out of the way.

One of the louder voices in the room though, was Superman, and Jason did not like what he was saying.

“Are the people of the Infinite Realms a threat?” Superman asked Constantine. “Should we have weapons to defend ourselves against them?”

Which, honestly, were fair questions but now was Not the time! Jason was sure the people from the Infinite Realms could be a threat but they hadn’t been and they had a very good reason to defend themselves. These were sentient people, would he be asking the same questions about a new species of mer? But he had already known Superman could be surprisingly intolerant for someone with his reputation.

“If we need to defend ourselves against the Realms we’re already fucked!” Constantine nearly shouted at Superman. “We should be dealing with this and be very grateful that they don’t have a king to organize them against us right now!”

“That could just make them more dangerous! If there’s no leader that we can make a treaty with then how can we trust them?” Superman argued.

“You don’t have to trust someone to know what the GIW is wrong!” Manhunter accused furiously.

“That’s not what I’m saying, of course it’s wrong,” Superman tried to placate, but it wasn’t working on Manhunter, and it wasn’t working on Danny either.

Jason and Ellie clocked it first, that the temperature in the room had been steadily dropping and was now almost ten degrees cooler than it had been at the start of the meeting. When Jason glanced over with concern he saw Hyena sitting perfectly still, his chest heaving in short shallow breaths and his eyes fixed on Superman, swirling with a very dangerous shade of green. Jason stood abruptly, slamming his hands down on the table in front of Hyena, startling him enough that his building rage turned sharply into fear and he flinched back, knocking over his chair.

"What-" Someone asked indignantly into the sudden silence as Danny backed up quickly till he hit the wall, curling in on himself.

"Everyone who doesn't know our faces, out!" Jason ordered abruptly.

"You can't just-"

"He's having a panic attack and you're making it worse! You know how dangerous panic can be in someone with powers! OUT!" He ordered and, begrudgingly but swiftly, he was obeyed and the heroes filed out of the room. The only ones left were Batman, Nightwing, Robin, and Phantasm. Jason ignored all of them.

He took off his helmet as he approached Danny quickly and crouched in front where he was curled on the floor, eyes unfocused. Jason unlatched Danny’s muzzle and took off one of his gloves, hearing a gasp behind him as he slapped Danny with an open palm, cupped for more sound than sting, enough to bring him back to the here and now. He grabbed Danny's face and forced him to look towards Jason.

"Look at me Cub," He cajoled, but Danny didn't hear, still reeling and panting. "Look at me!" Jason ordered this time and Danny obeyed, focusing on him finally. "What do you need?"

"Hold me," Danny gasped.

"Hold you or Hold You?" Jason asked.

"Hold Me," Danny hissed as he practically threw himself at Jason who braced himself and grabbed Danny quickly. He dragged them both up and spun Danny around, getting a hold on both of his wrists with opposite hands and wrapping Danny's own arms around his waist like a makeshift straight-jacket.

Jason stepped back into a fighting stand pulling Danny with him so he was off balance, and leaned back, bracing himself and keeping his head out of range as Danny thrashed and snarled in his grip, getting out his energy without trying to get away.

Jason didn't know how long it went on, but he knew his shoulders were sore by the time Danny went limp again in his hold, finally breathing properly again.

"Okay?" Jason asked sternly.

"Ya, okay. Thank you," Danny responded, meek and tired. Finally aware of what was going on around them he looked at the others in the room, and winced a little when he saw the worry and fear on Ellie’s face. Tim and Dick look worried too, Batman… Danny couldn’t tell what he was feeling. “Sorry about that guys, I’m okay now,” Danny said as Jason let him go slowly, easing him back into supporting his own weight.

Ellie rushed to hug  him and Danny hugged back, pressing his face into her hair. Dick approached more slowly, avoiding sudden movements that might freak Danny out again. “Are you sure you’re okay? That was… a lot. I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through.”

“That shouldn’t have happened-” Batman started, and Jason had no idea how he was planning to end that sentence because Danny didn’t let him.

“Well it did, you can’t save everyone, and now it’s too late. I’m never going to be what I was before they broke me,” He said, blunt and honest, Jason winced.

“Are you alright to bring the JL back in? They’ll have questions. If not it’s alright, Hood can take you home and we can handle the rest,” Robin told Danny.

“If you do stay I’ll make sure they behave themselves,” Nightwing put in with a grim set to his jaw.

Now Danny could read Batman’s expression, he looked startled. He hadn’t known Nightwing and Robin had gotten so close to Hood and Hyena behind his back. Danny wondered if he was more likely to question their judgment or his own in the face of this revelation.

“No, I can stay. I want to stay,” Danny insisted. He had been worked up already, and then upset by what Superman was saying, especially since he already didn’t have a particularly high opinion of the big blue boy scout since his treatment of Kon. “As long as they all don’t yell over each other like that again, too much noise,” Danny said, shaking his head.

 Danny slowly eased Ellie out of his arms, guiding her back to the table so he could slump back in his own chair. He dropped his face into his hands and took a few deep breath, Jason could practically see him counting to ground himself. Quietly he approached and scooped up their masks again, putting his helmet back on before gently nudging Danny’s arm and putting the muzzle down in front of him.

“Agreed. They shouldn’t have behaved that way in front of outsiders to begin with. I’ll talk to them." He started to leave before pausing and looking between Hyena and Phantasm. "It was brave of you to come to us about this. If there is any protection the two of you need to make sure that you do not face consequences from these people, we will gladly provide it.” Batman said and swept out of the room.

Danny lifted his head and saw the mask, giving Jason a little smile before he put it back on, doing the buckle up behind his head again and making sure it was secure on his face. He was as ready as he was going to be to face the rest of the JL again. At least Batman seemed to hate him less than he did before he knew a bit more of Danny’s backstory and exactly why he was like this. He thought that was fair, he didn’t think that anyone could remain sane after everything he had been through.

There was a knock on the door and Nightwing opened it, the rest of the assembled JL members filed back in, more quiet and calm now. They took their seats again, Superman looked a little sheepish, Kon paused to squeeze both Phantasm and Hyena’s shoulders, Danny patted his hand lightly giving him a grateful look. He’d like to have a better bond with Kon, all of the Teen Titan team really, but Kon in particular, he deserved a better support network with such shitty progenitors.

“He’s telling the truth,” Constantine cut in before the ruffled feathers around the table could progress to fighting again. “We do not want to mess with those fuckers, being beneath their notice, and letting them keep that tyrant king of theirs locked up, is the best that we can hope for there."

“We’re sorry our response wasn’t ideal,” Wonder Woman told Hyena diplomatically. “It was a shock, but that’s no excuse for making this harder on you. It was brave of both of you,” She praised.

“Thank you,” Hyena said, leaning back in his seat, his hands still pressed flat against the table. “I want to make it clear that the people of the infinite realms are a threat. It contains every afterlife, demons and gods and various other ancient and powerful beings. Violence is a culture and a language. However, most of us have very little interest in the living and the mortal. Despite being without a monarch there are rules about interacting with the living worlds, humans don’t exactly put up an entertaining fight anyway, a bit boring all around,

“All of this to say, if you don’t antagonize the Infinite Realms the Vast majority of its inhabitants will continue to happily ignore you, and if you do antagonize them you will lose.” The declaration held no doubt at all”

Hyena inclined his head towards Constantine in a subtle gesture of gratitude for the backup. “With that in mind if you ever have to deal with something from the Infinite Realms, call me. I’m from this world but I’m of the Infinite Realms as well, as long as Hood agrees, I will help.”  

“As long as Hood agrees?” Batman questioned, his gaze sharp. Next to him Constantine hissed and moved to elbow him before apparently thinking better of it.

“Yes. You know this Batman,” Hyena chided him, rolling his eyes at the super hero. “I am… potentially stronger than any one individual here, but I answer to him. You need my help, ask him.”

“If you want a demonstration I’m sure he’d be happy to provide. Just not where there’s anyone to get caught in the crossfire,” Jason put in smugly. “Right Hyena?”

“Oh absolutely,” Danny agreed with an unnervingly feral cackle. “I can survive in space, maybe Big Blue and I can give the moon a few more craters! Wait, no, probably better not use the moon we might knock it out of orbit. Mmmm Neptune?”

“Maybe some other time!” Constantine squeaked before anyone could make the mistake of taking a Realms creature up on his offer to fight.

“Too bad,” Hyena sighed leaning back in his seat, his mask hiding his pout. “I haven’t really gotten to let loose in ages.”

“We’ve gotten off topic,” Martian Manhunter said. Jason bit back a laugh at how quickly Danny subsided after being chided by his favourite hero. “What are we going to do about the GIW?”

[dolicekiss]

Golden Girl

PAIRING: Toxic Yandere!Nigel x Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni) dubcon, breath play, murder, violence, slapping, stalking (the reader), gun play, hair pulling, choking, forced oral (male receiving), forced fucking, sabotaging the reader, humiliation, degrading & praise, threats, abuse, forced fingering, breeding kink (nigel wants to baby trap reader), a completely filthy fucked up oneshot

SYNOPSIS: Going to a club in Bucharest was normal, you thought. But when bodies of the boys you interacted with after leaving the club started turning up, your vacation was put on hold. Worried whether you were the killer’s next victim — you were all over the place but what you didn't know was you'd caught the eye of a well known mob boss, Nigel Banyai and the man was willing to do just about anything to make you his.

Fourth body this week.

Found dead in the woods — littered with knife wounds like fucking red confetti. You were terrified but what scared you more was the Romanian police on your ass since all the boys ending up dead were somehow leaving links which trailed back to you.

Everytime a boy or a man was found, they called you in for questioning. Having no solid proof against you, they always released you but with a warning that they will catch you if you were behind the murders. It all became worse when you were forbidden from fleeing the country or even the city — forced to suffer in fear in Bucharest.

It angered you.

Why the fuck was someone targetting you, like this? Sabotaging you, forcing you to stay in Bucharest? It irritated you and this was not something you had looked forward to when you made plans to come to Bucharest.

You were puzzled.

Were you also on the killer’s target list? Was he going to come for you too, kill you too? Were you also gonna end up on the news like all those boys?

You made up your mind to visit the club from where this all began from.

Ever since you'd left, a bloody trail fucking followed and this was getting out of hand. Four men were dead — because they had interested with you. One had asked for your number at the club, the other had catcalled you a few days later on the street and the other two were friends who harassed you after you rejected them.

You decided to go.

In the same outfit, at the same exact time.

You entered the club — it was in a shady area but it was a fun club. Filled with escorts and strippers. It was the best kinda club, especially for a wild girl like you. As you maneuvered your way through the sweaty crowd of people dancing on the floor, you made it to the bar.

Plopping down on a stool, you ordered a simple martini and threw your bare leg over the other. In certain scrutiny, your gaze ran over the people. Attempting to find the person who had sabotaged you this bad. All you saw were people having fun, kissing and grinding against each other.

When your drink arrived, you took a sip and groaned in frustration. Hand drowned in your hair, gripping onto it to relieve yourself from some of the frustration.

You decided to scan the crowd once more and this time a pair of piercing dark eyes captured your attention. A blonde man, standing there, in a secluded corner. He stared at you, like he was drinking you in and the way he looked at you caused chills to run up your spine.

He was fucking gorgeous.

But his aura was prominent enough for you to notice it throughout the whole club.

You lowered your gaze and shook your head, emptying out your martini. The song changed and everyone screamed, their energy rejuvenated. You ordered another drink and then felt someone sit right next to you. It was that blonde, gorgeous with golden strands hovering over his forehead.

“First time here?”

His thick accent was delicious. You wanted to eat him because of the way he sounded and looked.

“No. Second, which is ironic because my first was fucking awful.” You spat out the venomous words, fingers tightening around the glass as you brought it to your red lips and drank a sip.

The handsome stranger scoffed at you, ordering himself a drink too. A Bourbon and it fit his taste. “Why was the first time awful?”

You sighed, leaning into your seat. “Someone is killing every boy I talk to. I'd be careful if I were you.”

It was as if you'd cracked a joke. His laugh was loud and deep, sending chills direct to your already soaked cunt. The man was straight out of some fictional book, his demeanor and looks making you act like some feline in heat ready to mate.

Too bad, you had no idea what was coming.

“Sounds like someone's got themselves the attention of a stalker.” His comment caused you still. He was right.

It could've been a stalker.

Which only heightened your fear. You finished your glass of martini and before you could order another one, the man spoke up. “Boys should learn how to take no for an answer. It would save them a lot of trouble.”

With that, he rose up from the stool and walked into the crowd of people. Your blood ran cold when your brain registered his words through the heavy bass of the music roaring through the speakers. Eyes widening in realization, you also stood up and ran in pursuit of him.

You didn't know what you were thinking, following the man that was murdering all these boys. You were afraid but you were also curious — like a cat that was about to get slaughtered because of her curiosity.

You only caught a glimpse of his blonde hair moving through the crowd and you followed him, heels clicking against the floor as you found yourself making your way outside through the back door. This exit lead you to an empty area, deserted and abandoned. The music slowly disappearing the further you delved into this area.

It was like some tight alleyway.

The smell of rain and concrete prominent.

“What a silly move. Following your stalker out here, all alone.” You heard his voice to your left and a drop of sweat trickled down your spine.

Your gaze followed from where his voice was coming from and you found him leaned against the wall, under a dimly lit lamp. Between his fingers, he held a cigarette as he smoked. You swallowed tightly and gathered your courage, the same determination which you used to track down the man who'd ruined your vacation.

You were pissed.

“Fuck do you want from me? Just why are you killing all these boys?”

He continued smoking. Dragging in puffs and squinting his eyes while doing so. Then he finished it and threw the little cigarette aside, not bothering to crush it. He took slow, predatory steps towards you, standing at a foot's distance.

Then he lit up another cigarette.

“They dared to approach what's mine.” He said, with boldness.

You let out a dry laugh. Was he fucking serious? He was a handsome man, too bad he was also delusional. You approached him, your finger extending out and pointing at his chest. “I'm not some fucking piece of land you'll claim. I haven't even met you, nor do I know you. You have the fucking Romanian police on my ass like cat after mouse.”

Your anger was bubbling up with each passing second. You didn't even care that he'd killed people — that being the least bit of your concerns. You were upset because you couldn't have fun, you couldn't roam around the country like how you'd dreamed to. It was all going down.

Because of him.

“I wouldn't speak to me like this if I were you. I don't like brats.” He said, voice dangerously low and my knees nearly buckled. You frowned and furrowed your eyebrows at him. “I don't give a fuck. You're ruining my vacation, for what reason? What did I do to you?”

He sighed, flicking open the pale packet and retrieving another cigarette. He lit it up and looked at you, as he placed it between his lips.

“You belong to me, darling.” He blowed the smoke of his cigarette into your face and you coughed out, hand flying in front of your face to move the smoke away.

Before you could argue more with him, he had his hand wrapped around your throat and forced you up against the wall. You struggled, caught off guard but you still struggled although it proved useless. He discarded his cigarette, spitting it out to the side. The man was ten times stronger than you, his rough hand clasping around your throat while his other retrieved a gun from his leather belt.

Your eyes widened in horror at the weapon.

Was he going to kill you?

Glancing between him and the weapon, you shook your head. He brought it up to your head, holding it against it. “Such a dirty little mouth you've got. I bet it can also take my gun when I fuck your little cunt, no?”

You gasped at his words.

And he took it as a chance to slide the barrel of his gun into your mouth. The metal cold and sour against your flaccid tongue, nostrils inhaling the strong scent of gunpowder wafting off it. Tears had decorated your waterline, mind registering the vulnerable situation you were in.

You tried to apologize — regretting following him but it didn't work. The words came out as muffled cries when he slid his gun further into your mouth.

“You look pretty like this.” He whispered against you, staring into your teary gaze. “I bet you've got quite the perfect cocksucking mouth.”

You tried to say something, so he retracted his gun from your mouth, allowing you a chance to speak. “Please—let me go. I'm sorry, I want to go.”

He smiled at you. “Oh no baby, you're not going anywhere. The only reason why I got the police after your sweet little ass is because I knew you'd try to escape. Try to make a run for it. How could I let that happen, hm?”

Your gaze enlarged.

So it was him who purposely did that?

This was all a part of his fucked up plan to sabotage you from leaving the country? Just who was he, how did he have this much power and why the fuck did he want you? It all came crashing down on you like a damn plane.

“Why?” You croaked out.

He sighed, still holding the gun in his thick hand. That was a question of pure foolery. Had you not noticed the way he looked at you? How possessive he was acting? Nigel’s feelings for you went past something as minor as lust. He was truly devoted to you and needed you by his side. Even if it meant by force. “When you came to my club, dressed like this,” he pointed his gun up and down at the same outfit you wore from before. “it made me want to fucking kidnap you and keep you away from everyone. Dressed like a little whore, only I deserve to see this beautiful body of yours.”

You flinched at his words.

The stranger trailed the cold and wet —from being in your mouth— barrel down to your top, as it hung by a chain over your round tits. He scoffed at the sight of it. He fucking loved how you looked in the outfit but if it was enough to give him a hard time in his pants, it was enough to give others a hard time concealing their lust too. That did not sit right with Nigel.

He was a beguiling man.

You could see it in his darkened gaze but your fear had gotten the best of you.

He used his gun to remove the loose top hanging on your tits, a hoarse chuckle emitting from his throat when he saw just how easily the glimmering fabric exposed your tits to him. Your bare chest on full display, peaks hardened to perfection. The tip of his barrel ran over your right nipple and a suppressed whimper escaped you.

“I-I promise I won't tell anyone.” Your endeavor to get yourself out of this situation was of proper amusement to him.

Nigel raised a brow. “Yeah? Even if you tell someone, no one will help you. There's no point in begging and pleading — unless you're into me taking you by force. I wouldn't mind, I fucking love breaking stubborn little girls like you and leaving them damaged.”

It was as if your heart had stopped pumping blood into your veins, your brain growing cold and numb. Obviously there was no point in begging and you tried to struggle against his frame pressed up against you, pushing him with the strength of your shoulders. It only worked as fuel to his incinerating anger.

Nigel walloped you across the face with his other hand before shoving the gun back into your mouth. Actions rough and full of vigor, he rammed it in and out of your mouth while tears furiously fell down your face. The stinging pain from the slap and the searing of your jaw was a combination you found yourself to loathe.

He stared at you, eyes sharp and pupils completely dilated. Deep down you wished that someone, anyone came in this area and saved you from the man but your brain told you over and over again that no one was coming. Your body begging to surrender to the man's abuse.

The feeling of his cold barrel on your tongue felt foreign, your eyebrows scrunching up and Nigel nearly melted at how fucking cute you appeared. Saliva sputtered around the gun, coating your chin in slick and then once he'd had enough, he pulled it out.

“God, you have it so wet, I could easily fuck you with it.” He commented, head tilted as he stared at the gun covered in slick.

You shook your head, making a meek little sound at the suggestion. Getting fucked with a gun was not on your vacation list, especially by a dangerous killer like him. He could fucking blow you up with one single push of the trigger and the idea scared you but also —excited you.

“I wanna go home.” You cried, struggling once more. Nigel took hint of how you were not gonna become pliant anytime sooner so he reached over and grabbed a fistful of your locks — covered in confetti and glitter from being in the club. There it was. Another heavy slap delivered to your cheek, this time not only did your cheek hurt but also your lips stung too.

Running a tongue over it, you tasted metal and cringed.

He'd busted your lip.

“Get on your fucking knees if you still want all your damn teeth in your mouth.” You shivered at the sheer dominance behind his chilling threat. Nodding your head at him, he forced you down on your knees and you allowed him to. Knees scraping against the hard concrete, body aching from all sides.

Nigel pulled more on your hair, tugging you by your locks against the prominent bulge in his pants. “Take it out and suck it. If you don't want me to kill you right now, you better show me just how good of a cocksucker you are.”

You cried tears of vulnerability and devastation, nodding your head at him. Nigel wasn't actually going to kill you, no. He adored you too much to do that but this was necessary, in order to make you more pliant and obedient. More bendable and easy. His cock throbbed in his briefs, enjoying the look of fear that crossed your features. It suited you well.

You'd come here with the attitude of a fucking lioness and now you were nothing but a scared little bunny, cornered and captured.

With shaky fingers, you reached for his little zipper and pulled it down. Then you slowly maneuvered your hand through the little space and felt the thickness of his cock. Rock hard and girthy, you pulled it out. It immediately slapped you across your face and the size of it left you dismayed.

How the fuck were you going to fit that into your mouth?

“I-It won't fit.” You whispered, looking up at him and when you did that, you felt the vein going underside his cock throb against your hand. You weren't gonna lie, it was a pretty cock. It's head thick, seeping with precum and almost a dark shade of pink. The rest of it was long, thick and had protruding veins going up and down. Your jaw still ached from the gun, just how badly was his cock going to destroy you?

Nigel bucked his hips forward, causing his cock to nuzzle against the side of your face, a satisfied hum eliciting from his chest. “It'll fit, I'll make it fit. Even if I have to shoot your throat open so I can fuck it.”

Panic settled in. His ability to throw such gruesome threats around like nothing terrified you. It made you wonder just who this man was and how powerful he was to have you cornered like this — without a care in the world about the law enforcements or the repercussions to his actions.

Your tongue peeked out from the folds of your lips, running over his slit in one single lick and as a response the man shuddered in your hold. His groan was loud as he stared down at you, grip painfully tight on your roots. “Don't fucking tease me, my darling. I wouldn't want to mess up this beautiful face of yours.”

Idle threats were not his cup of tea. He meant every word he said when his gaze darkened and you got to work. Lips circling around his head, taking him into your mouth and sucking on it. Tongue caressing the underside of his cock, running over the protruding purple vein.

Nigel nearly melted at how fucking tight your mouth was. Even after preparing it with his gun, fucking it thoroughly so it'd expand, he was still feeling its contraction around his cock. Wet, tight and gummy. He slipped his length past by your palate, hitting it against your uvula and then sliding it along your windpipe.

When he did that, entered such a forbidden territory, you tried to stabilize your breathing and body by resting both your palms against his thick thighs. Fingernails scraping the cotton fabric of his dress pants — eyes falling shut. You tried to ignore it, the pain you felt and how you were fighting not to gag over it.

But you did.

Ended up coughing, sputtering all over his cock and he only moaned at that. Your saliva trickling down your chin and making a wet ring around his length.

Nigel held your head firmly with both his hands and began to fuck into your mouth. Thoroughly and carefully, he pressed his cock along your tongue and everytime you made a gagged sound, you felt it throb inside your mouth.

He seemed to love how much you were struggling against him. Little fists delivering hopeful thuds to be freed but all he did was shove himself farther down your tight little throat. “Ah, fuck. I wonder how tight your cunt is going to be. Just the thought of being inside your pussy has me near.”

Nigel’s huffed out a sharp breath, his hips twitching forward helping himself breach the barrier of your throat. Tears streamed down your face and at the sight of you this fucked up, he pressed at your head all the way until his perfectly trimmed hair at the base of his cock brushed against your nose.

You tried to inhale through your nose and Nigel chuckled. His thumb and finger pinched your nose, preventing it from breathing. Your lungs expanded, desperately trying to intake any form of oxygen and when it didn't receive it, you started to punch and beat at his thighs.

Loud gagging sounds filled the air and as he fucked your throat, he let out prominent grunts of pleasure. Chest rumbling from how good you felt wrapped around him, how he forbade you from breathing. Your life dancing in the palm of his little life, completely controlling you.

“Christ, you're so pathetic like this. What was it that you said? I was ruining your vacation, huh? Try to escape me now, Darling.” His words burned you with humiliation as you punched and threw a fit, eyelids dropping and eyes rolling back to your skull. You nearly saw black, almost on the verge of passing out but he pulled out.

Only for a split moment.

To admire the trail of spit connecting your lips to the head of his cock. The saliva glistening around your mouth, forming small bubbles underneath the dimly lit lamp. Your short gasps echoed in the alleyway, as your lungs swelled up to take in air. Nigel found you so beautiful like this, wrecked and ruined. And the best part was that he hadn't even fucked you yet.

The fact filled him with overflowing excitement.

You could only catch your breath once or twice before he occupied the expanse of your mouth again, thrusting roughly and painfully down your throat. He caught a glimpse of the print of his cock in your throat and nearly came — hips driving themselves in aggressive and vigorous thrusts. You could tell he was close by the way his hips twitched and his balls throbbed.

“Yes. Yes— Just like that. Take it baby, take all my fucking cum. You're so good, so fucking good.”

Nigel, with one aggressive thrust, shot his load right down your throat. Barely giving you a chance to spit it out, forcing you to swallow it. When he pulled out and found your mouth to be empty, no sign of his cum, a satisfied glint appeared in his gaze.

“Good girl. You swallowed before I could tell you.”

No, you didn't swallow. He'd forcefully cum down your throat and fucked it down your fucking windpipe. Your body shivered up, feeling cold but Nigel didn't really seem to care. The man was panting like a dog, chest rising up and down while he supported himself against the wall with his palm.

His other hand still in your hair, lazily sitting atop it.

You sniffled, swallowing back a loud sob threatening to escape. There was still hope inside you, that maybe after giving him his release, he'd let you go. So you tried your luck.

“Can I go now? Please?”

His head dropped down. Eyes holding contact with your teary ones and your words made him laugh. A deep, breathless laugh ringing against yours ears. He shook his head at you as if you were a child, who'd asked a question beyond stupidity.

“You thought this was all in the heat of the moment, that I needed a pretty mouth to cum inside?” His hand reached for you, fingers circling around your arm and pulling you up on your feet. His rough manhandling caused your knees to scrape brutally along the floor, a small whimper expressing your pain.

He was glaring at you. “I own this fucking club and all the escorts that work here. I could cum down anyone's throat here, my darling girl.” Nigel leaned in closer to you, the space between the two of you shrinking and it worried you. “It is your mouth I want to cum inside and your cunt I want to fuck. The soonee you accept it the better it is for you.”

You shook your head.

There was still fight left in you.

As you raised your hand, you slammed it down on his cheek. Tears swimming in your eyes causing your vision to become a blur but the pure rage that had awakened in his eyes was something even your blurry vision couldn't ignore.

You almost immediately regretted it.

“Fine.” He muttered, “you wanna act like a brat, you'll get treated like one.”

Nigel slammed your head against the concrete wall and the newfound pain in your head fucking throbbed, increasing and swallowing you whole. The next few minutes were a blur. You could feel him roughly pulling up the mini skirt you wore, in a fit of rage ripping the material of your lace panties. Nigel hated and loved how you were dressed at the same time.

Like some little prostitute.

“I wanted to be gentle but look what you're making me do. All you had to do was be fucking still and obey me, now I'm forced to treat you like this.” His raw manipulation nearly made you feel guilty in the vulnerable moment. Brain succumbing to his words and actions of pure brutality.

Nigel hiked your leg up, wrapping it around his own waist. He brought his hand down to your cunt and smacked along the stripe, watching you flinch. The action slightly brought you back but still not enough to register what was happening.

You were dumb now.

Like a braindead puppy who'd suffered enough.

Your body gave up to him. “Look how wet your little pussy is. All this fucking act of resilience for what? Just to have a soaked cunt?”

You flinched at his words. The brutal man shoved a finger inside you, forcing it in and you cried out. Blurry vision struggling to make out the outline of his face, the hard ridges blending in with the background. He soon added another, followed by another. Pace rough and fingers curved — he slammed them upwards and made you cry out with each thrust.

“N-No.” You managed to cry out, throat completely parched and dry from all the crying. The amount of tears you'd shed had you dehydrated and you needed a crisp bottle of cold water. Only that could cure all this now.

Nigel was knuckles deep inside you and he enjoyed how your pussy clamped around his fingers, wet and squelchy. The sounds of your flesh reacting to his had made his half soft cock erect again. Standing tall and curved against his stomach. He was still being too kind, preparing you to take his cock. He didn't know how many dicks had you taken in your cunt but his was about to be the last.

Thumb caressing your swollen bud, moving it in circles. He loved the way your body twitched and moved, your face still drenched in tears as if you hated this meanwhile your hot little body had its own mind. Clenching around his fingers, nipples hard and sensitive, your hips grinding against his fingers.

“You've got the prettiest fucking cunt I've ever seen, darling.” He commented, pulling out his fingers and rubbing them all over his length. his act of lubrication of his own cock with your arousal making you cringe.

Nigel rubbed his fat head over your swollen clit, watching your face distort in one of pleasure. You cried yet you let out soft little moans of complete contentment. Your lips were agape, and your eyebrows were pinched together. It was such a beautiful sight.

“Look at me.” He commanded and this time you hurried to listen. Finding his gaze and meeting it, you blinked away a few tears and he leaned forward to finally do what he had been wishing to do.

He occupied your lips in a rough kiss, head tilting to the side. His tongue forced open your lips — although he didn't have to actually force it open. The pain in your head made you pliant and obedient, which was a result of satisfactory for him. The man was practically eating your mouth. Teeth clashing against teeth, tongue fighting with tongue, saliva mixing in together. He didn't care your mouth was stained with the salty taste of his own cum.

Nigel was a filthy fucking bastard.

While he kissed you, he stroked himself a couple of times before guiding his thick head to your hole. The second you felt the burning stretch, your hips began to writhe against the wall. Before you could struggle more, Nigel’s brawny arms slithered down to your waist and he lifted you up with ease.

Pinning you on the wall.

He wrapped both your legs around his hips and fully bottomed out inside you. Feeling each and every vein grazing against your tight gummy walls. You had the cunt of a fucking virgin, so tight and so fucking raw. He knew how virgins felt like — he loved the taste of innocence.

Though he knew you were anything but a virgin.

That fiery little mouth you had proved that he wasn't the only man whom you had wrapped around your finger just by existing. He stalked you, everytime you tried to get laid he'd eliminate the men. Kill them and make sure no one could ever lay their hands on you, with or without your consent. Without your knowledge he'd protected you against multiple men.

The man eventually bottomed out inside you, his pelvis pressed against your clit. He still had his hands pinning yours to the wall and it was beginning to hurt. You needed some sort of relief from this torture so you looked at Nigel, with a pleading look of innocence in your eyes. “My arms, t-they hurt.”

He looked at you, contemplating whether to release you or not. “Your arms hurt, yeah? You wanna rest them on my neck?”

You nodded your head when he raised a brow at you. The amount of control he had over his actions, his expressions, it was too attractive but also intimidating. A chuckle rumbled from his throat and you flinched at it, staring at him in confusion. “Aw, and what makes you think I'll let you? You have been nothing but disobedient. Your behavior has been a fit of utter disappointment.”

You were speechless. How could he be this cruel to you? A lone tear slid down your face as you accepted your faith, the ache in your shoulders growing by each second. Nigel’s heart clenched at the sight, he couldn't be mad at you anymore. Not when he was entirely whipped.

His hands slowly retracted and your head slowly rose up, staring at him. He brought your arms to his nape and circled them around it. Your hold tightened and you leaned forward, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

There was no fight left in you.

You wanted this to get over with as soon as possible.

Nigel found this version of yours endearing and he couldn't wait till he had completely broken you. His cock began to move inside you, in agonizingly slow thrusts and your soft whimpers slid right in his ear. He held you in his arms while he fucked himself into you, feeling how your thighs twitched and your cunt clenched around him.

“You're so tight, baby.” He slurred, his strokes going more vigorous. Hips snapping inside you and your moans delighting him to a new extent. You could feel the stinging sensation of his fingernails piercing through your skin from how hard he was gripping onto your hips, using your hole to chase his own release.

Nigel was breathless, panting like some wild animal when ravaging its prey. You were that prey and being ravaged by him was something that broke you apart. Blonde strands hovering over his forehead, he was honestly a godly sight. The skin of your back scraped lightly across the wall — whenever he thrusted inside you.

Stomach flipping and heart thumping wildly in your ears, you sniffled and whimpered from each harsh stroke. “Look at me, fucking look at me.”

And you did.

Lifting your head from his shoulder and meeting his dark gaze. The way he stared at you, it was like he had finally found purpose in life. The raw obsession in his eyes was overwhelming for you to even register. Nigel dug his nails into your skin, littering crescent moons. All the sensations — of pain, of pleasure, of the taboo this was, of everything, you were consumed by it.

“You're gorgeous.” He whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. Your heart flipped and you realized how fucked out you were because there was no way in hell you were flustered over compliments by this man.

Your hair stuck to your drenched forehead, a few strands finding residence over your cheeks too. Your lips are swollen and busted and your eyes are continuously glossing from the aggression of this man. Why did you capture his attention? Why couldn't it be someone else?

Nigel felt himself close.

So did you.

Your stomach had aggressive butterflies and your thighs convulsed, letting him know that you were near. He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it. That and his thumb rubbing your clit was enough to send you over the edge. “Cum for me, my pretty. Cream all over my cock. Claim me as yours.” A loud scream tore through you, as you unraveled.

Eyes rolling back to your skull. Lips agape and the heaving movement of your chest cutting short — your cunt clenched around him and sucked him in. Desperately trying to keep his cock inside you. All this was enough to send Nigel over the cliff too. Seeing how beautiful you looked when you came all on his cock, your breathing short and little huffs escaped your lips. It was all so etheral for him.

To chase his own release, his thrusts grew relentless and he started to pound into you like some fucking animal. “I'm gonna cum inside you. I'm gonna give you a child, our child. You can't escape me, ever.”

You weakly shook your head but the way he fucked you had your body surging forward over his. You sobbed, tears of pleasure and sensitivity streaming down. Your cunt was throbbing and so was his cock, pulsating inside you. Balls hot and then he did what he'd promised you. He coated your insides white, spilling his hot seed inside your cunt.

Nigel was gasping — eyes squeezed shut and the blonde strands clouding his darkened vision. His hips stuttered, the more he came inside you. Rope after rope, enough to give you a child and you mentally punched yourself for not being on birth control. Him eliminating all the men around you made you not take the birth control anymore.

It fell right into his favor.

“You're going to milk me fucking dry, my pretty.” He growled, his own head falling into the crook of your neck. You could feel his harsh pants crashing against your sensitive skin. After catching his breath for awhile, Nigel pulled out of your cunt and you immediately arched your back — a whine sputtering from your lips.

The feeling of his cock sliding out of your hypersensitive walls made you clutch tightly onto him. Nigel held you with one hand and his body pressing into yours, while with the other he tucked himself inside his briefs and zipped up his pants. Then he also fixed you up too. Placing you down on the floor.

Your mini skirt was thankfully not ripped as he pulled it down over your ass. He tossed his jacket over your in a possessive manner. The man didn't want anyone to see you in this slutty little outfit anymore, now that he had claimed you as his.

“You're quiet.” He said, as he watched the cum leak out from underneath the mini skirt of yours, staining your legs. Nigel didn't bother to clean you up, reveling in the idea of his cum leaking out of you. You stared at him, a little braindead from what he'd done to you.

Then you swallowed, in an attempt to coat your dehydrated throat with your saliva. “Can I not be quiet? Does that bother you too?”

Nigel was surprised for a moment. He'd expected you to be silent but your sass was still there and he fucking loved it. How despite what he'd done to you, your sassy little attitude was still there concealed behind the frozen response of your brain to this situation.

He picked you up and smiled. “You're mine now. I'm taking you home.”

You didn't have it in you to resist him anymore. He'd already gotten what he wanted; you. Your face laid across his shoulder as he took you towards the open road and soon slid you right inside the passenger seat of his car. Your head leaned on the leather seat as you watched him, while he drove.

Nigel was fucking enthralled. Even if you weren't going to get pregnant, he'd make sure he's fucked you enough times to make you have his child. He didn't care if it had to be by force, he needed you. Wanted to keep you with him. Forever. In Bucharest.

[rowretro]

ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝔼𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣

✧taglist: @enha-ism

✧warnings: toxic/yandere themes, violence, stalking Blood, forceful kiss

✧synopsis: Yandere Riki kidnaps you after planning for so long. He finally gets to keep you, you're all his. The male expected you to scream, shout and put up a fight so he can punish and tame you, however things were a lot different with his y/n...

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

Finally, after all those years of watching other boys and girls be so close with his pretty princess, he finally got her to himself. Y/n woke up, chained in a basement, she was quite shocked and a little frightened by her surroundings. When she set her eyes on Riki, she felt like she was dreaming.

"Look here princess... outside of this basement is a beautiful home for you and me to live in. If you behave and do as I say princess... I'll spoil you with everything you want." He said as he twirled her hair "But if you disobey me... you will face harsh consequences darling..." He added as he yanked on her hair, glaring at her. "I'll do anything you say babe" The girl said staring up at him as Riki frowned.

"How cute... so easy to scare hmm?" Riki asked as he pecked her lips softly, leaving the girl blushing. After an hour or so of silence in the basement, he let her out, leading her to their bedroom, he took her to the walk in closet where all of y/n's clothes, and other beautiful clothes exactly like the ones on her wish list or basket hung in order. "This is your side of the closet, like it?" he asked as the girl smiled.

"Don't think I'll ever let you out darling... the only time you'd ever be allowed out is to skool, with me." He sternly said as y/n nodded. "You know I'm not that scary right?" Riki said and she smiled at him "I know babe, but I want to make you happy" the girl said as the male seemed shocked, he gave her a towel and kissed her forehead, realizing she was sincere about that. She fucking loves him the way he loves her.

Since that day, even the school knows that the 2 are openly dating, though unaware of his yandere tendencies. So many people shipped them, they were just so cute together, inseparable. However other. 2 boys in specific. Really hated the 2 being together. Ryan and Tyler, who had been trying to pursue y/n for the past year or so, are pissed to see how Riki swooped in and took her away.

So they acted on it. Riki had gotten into detention as per usual and you waited for him outside as the teacher wouldn't let you in. Knowing this, Tyler dragged her to an empty classroom, while Ryan covered your mouth with his hand, the males smirked as she tried to leave the classroom.

"Not so fast pretty girl..." Tyler said pulling her back by her hair. "The 2 of us fucking tried all we could to get you for the past year, we were so sweet so fucking perfect... yet you went out with that freak?!!!" Ryan yelled at her as he slapped her hard enough to make her head hit the board. He pulled her back, forcefully kissing her. Before any of them can even lay another hand on her, the door went flying off it's hinges, hitting Tyler.

When the 2 males turned around, they were met with a very pissed off Riki. Do I even need to tell you what happened to them? According to the teachers there, the boys fought each other so badly, they ended up killing each other. So says the police, the court, and everyone. Riki kissed the girl's forehead as he dried her hair "Next time I get into detention, cause some trouble and get in with me hmm baby?" Riki asked as the girl nodded with a smile.

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

Request from @witheringpain - Could you make a headcanon of how all the autobots/decepticons would react if you died in a war (G1) ?

Will do 🫡🫡🫡

Sorry this is so late but I’ve got so much going on I’ve ended up going through my requests at a snails pace lol.

I haven't done transformers requests in 3-4 years so hello pls don't beat me up over this but here we go anyway:

Warnings: Character Death (Reader), Heavy Descriptions Of Gore And Violence, Themes Of Grieving And Depression

Autobots: (This is mostly Optimus-centred but I included most of the Autobots reactions because this first part was already too long to repeat for each separate character – I’ve also made it platonic)

Also PLEASE keep in mind that I’ve only seen short clips of G1, which is why I don’t write for them often, so the characters may seem a little OOC – if they are I apologise but it’s the best I could do

Ooooh boy, they’re not gonna like that

Let’s say you’re Optimus’s bestie (along with the other autobots ofc)

And let’s keep in mind that G1 Optimus is not as calm/ level headed as TFP Optimus and not as ‘death/kill/angry/rage’ as Bayverse Optimus

So he’s not gonna go round on the battle field murdering left right and centre

But he’s also not gonna just stand there

He’s more likely to turn towards the loud gunshot behind him and watch as your body hits the ground and take a moment

Like it’s not gonna click instantly

He probably thinks you’ve been shot in the leg and he waits a second for you to scream or writhe around in pain

But then your body lops to the side and he sees your eyes frozen wide in shock, with a gaping bullet hole still sizzling and steaming away in the middle of your forehead

And when I say it hits them all

It hits them

HARD

Optimus sort of just stumbles for a moment cuz he can feel every part of himself short-circuit

He also thought his audio receptors had stopped working

But no

It’s the battlefield

It’s dead silent

Everyone seems to have just stopped

He can’t see (cuz he literally cannot take his eyes off your body) but Prowl and Ratchet are nearest

And they’re desperate to run to him but the fact that he’s so still

Ratchet doesn’t dare go near you for a hot minute because it’s not normal for Optimus to be still for that long.

Prowl’s too busy trying to see who shot you, and eventually he spies the steaming barrel of the gun from across the field and he’s instantly seeing red

The decepticon that owns said gun doesn’t look any better

You can practically hear him from how much he’s shaking

Eventually, the dead silence is broken

“What did you do?”

It’s Megatron

He might be Optimus’s sworn enemy

But he knows when to not cross a line

As in murder Optimus’s closest friend

Megatron only murmured it since he was only frozen in place a few metres away

But it was loud enough to break whatever spell Optimus was under

Both decepticons watched in terror as Optimus’s head snapped towards them, his optics wide and glowing brighter than ever

And you know what’s even worse?

His face guard is gone

Sheathed away and full face on display

Now, let’s clarify that you, are the only person in the existence of ever, to know what he looks like under the mask

And the fact that everyone can see his full face right now shows exactly how out of control his emotions are right now

He’s heaving, he’s shaking, and there’s coolant streaming down his face because guess what cybertronians can cry

In his millions of years fighting wars, Megatron can’t recall a time he’s ever seen such despair on a bots face

Let alone on Optimus

The sounding of creaking metal brings everyone’s attention back on Optimus

And it takes a moment for everyone to realise where the noise is coming from but soon enough they watch as his servo tightens even more around his axe, the creaking noise becoming louder

And all of a sudden everyone’s like:

Oh shit

The decepticon that shot you is like

Shit shit shit shit

And Megatron accepts he’s gonna be a Con down after today because looking at the state that Prime is in he knows it’s not worth it

He looks to the Con who is pleading for help with his eyes and just shrugs

“I think you’re on your own now :)”

Megatron along with everyone else takes a step back as Optimus begins to move

He’s not running, no

Just walking

His optics not moving from the con in front of him as he strides over.

Eventually the con drops his gun with a cry and frantically runs into the woods behind him

But Optimus keeps his speed at walking pace

Which is even more terrifying

Megatron just moves aside raising his hands in surrender as he passes

Because a heaving, blank-faced, mask-less Optimus unconsciously dragging a weapon behind him is not something he wants to try and pester right now

Soon Optimus disappears into the woods after the Con

And everyone remains silent and unmoving as they listen

Pedesteps every now and again are heard from within the trees

Minutes pass and no one is yet to move, too occupied with straining their audials for a noise

Though it isn’t long until everyone flinches as a terrified shriek rips through the air, causing the birds to scatter

A string of frantic pleads of help follow

Until they are replaced with screams as loud clangs of metal on metal are heard

But soon the screams are drowned out by the clangs and soon enough the sounds of the Con are no more

But the clanging doesn’t stop

It just keeps going in a steady rhythm

Until one final loud smash reverberates through the air

And it is silent once again

Everyone else takes this as their cue

Megatron instantly transforms and takes off

And it isn’t long before the rest of the Decepticons follow, leaving the Autobots to themselves

The following silence is soon broken as Ratchet finally moves towards your body

Wiping the coolant that won’t seem to stop streaming down his face, he kneels down to scoop your lifeless form into his arms

Prowl drags himself over to you both, his pedes never feeling so heavy

With a dark solemn look on his faceplates, he stares at your corpse in the medics arms

After a moment, he slowly lifts his servo towards your face, where your face is still frozen in a terrified expression

And as gently as he can, he takes two digits and places them above your optic lids before sliding them closed

That seemed to be a tipping point for Ratchet as he broke down in heaving sobs

His frame trembling as he tried to keeps both himself and you balanced as everyone around looked at him in both surprise and pity

This is a first because Ratchet is probably the least likely to react so emotionally to death

He been witnessing it almost every day for the past few million years after all

But you were someone special

Someone he thought would be the last person to die so suddenly

Someone he thought he would have time to save, and time to grieve

But that’s what war does

It has no mercy with anyone

No matter who someone is and how special they are

And Ratchet thought he had come to terms with that idea

But the scene he gave showed everyone he hadn’t quite accepted it fully

Prowl wanted to break down too

He wanted to scream into the heavens and beyond, cursing out those who took you from them but also hoping you could hear him

A sign to show that you were still here with them

But he knew it would prove useless

And with Ratchet gone too far into his own mind

He knew it was his turn to be the level headed one

Now wasn’t the time to flip tables and punch walls

He didn’t want to show his emotional instability in front of the others

So he joined Ratchet by his side, a servo slowly soothing up and down the medic’s trembling back struts.

He noted that Optimus still hadn’t returned from the woods

But that wasn’t who he was concerned about at the moment

As if on cue, three sets of bouncing footsteps along with energised voices were heard as they got nearer

Everyone tensed at the sound, and slowly turned towards the outstretch of cliff nearby where the voices owners would soon be revealed

Prowl left Ratchet’s side after one last reassuring pat, leaving the now slightly calmer bot to cradle you

Turning the corner, he was met with two bright sets of yellow and one red

Bumblebee, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had returned from their reconnaissance, playing and shoving at each other joyously after a seemingly successful mission, ready to hear what had become of the fight they missed

Though that all halted when they caught sight of a silent Prowl who was suspiciously not scolding them for returning so late

Coming to a stop, they eyed him, Sideswipe talking first:

“We just saw Megatron and his goons flying away! Did you flip enough tables to scare them off or something?”

That set the three of them into another fit of giggles

But coming to a stop again at the sight of Prowls door wings not springing up in frustration like they usually do

“Say Prowl, what’s got your tailpipe in a twist?” Sunstreaker piped up

Prowl opened his mouth, and got exactly one vowel out before going silent again. He did this several times before eventually giving up.

Ok this was different

Prowl always has something to reply with

“What happened.” Demanded Bumblebee

Despite being a joyous bot, Bumblebee knew when it was time to be serious, and Prowl being lost for words meant that only the worst could have happened

Prowl tried to reply again, but his voice box betrayed him for a second time

Without a second thought Bumblebee strode ahead, brushing aside Prowls outstretched servo and rounded the corner

At a first glance all he could see was every bot crowded around something, but when he called out they all parted to reveal something he wished he could never see

A pained cry of despair echoed throughout the forested valley, and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker didn’t hesitate for a second as they sprinted around the corner to their friend with Prowl hot on their heels

The sight before them was the one thing they never wanted

Bumblebee was being held back as he tried to reach for whatever Ratchet had in his arms, howling and crying out as he stretched his arm as far as he could

The two bots rushed to try and help the others in restraining him, but both stumbled in shock as they caught sight of your lifeless corpse

Soon the bots had to be divided as they wrestled the three young bots that were wailing in anguish for their friend

Bumblebee had given up at this point, his head on Prowls shoulder as he stared at you with a glazed unmoving expression

The twins were worse off, crying and screaming in everyone’s faces until their voice boxes gave out, demanding what had happened and why they weren’t able to save you, why Ratchet wasn’t able to save you, but all the bots and the medic could do was look down to not make any further eye contact.

Not long after the screaming match another set of footsteps were heard getting nearer, and a hush fell over everyone, including the twins after pleas from the others, as they all stared at the silhouette emerging from the foliage

As the bot moved into the sunlight, everyone’s optics widened at the sight

Optimus had returned, but he was barely recognisable

Well

You could still tell it was him

But his paintjob was almost unidentifiable

Blue and red peeked through the streaks and smears of pink and magenta, the energon from the unlucky con splattered all over his frame

The worst parts were on his axe and up his arms, his paintjob covered almost entirely with energon still dripping from those areas along with chunks of metal that slowly slid down his frame, looking suspiciously similar to the con’s paintjob

The most horrifying part, though, was his axe

Which looked like it had come straight out of a horror movie

Through the energon and bits of metal that covered the blades, one half seemed to have bent, the blade curving in a way that would fit a cybertronians head shape after hitting it with the force of a mountain

Which is probably what happened

It’s also probably what made that extra load bang at the end

But no one really cared about that

They were too busy trying to figure out what Optimus would do next

Which was a bit difficult considering he was just standing there not saying a word and just staring ahead into the distance

A beat passed before shuffling was heard and Bumblebee broke away from Prowls embrace and rushed towards the Prime

Despite everyone wanting to stop him, they were too scared of going near Optimus at this point

Reaching Optimus, Bumblebee threw himself around him, not caring about the height difference

This seemed to bring Prime out of his trance, half lidded optics looking down at the smaller bot

Though it wasn’t long before Optimus gently pried Bumblebee’s servos away, holding them in his own

The bots watched albeit tense as the taller bot stared down at his smaller companion

All it took was for Bee to look up whilst blinking back tears of coolant for Optimus to drop his axe with a clang and scoop him into his arms, their helms buried into each other’s neck cables, and Bumblebee’s sobbing started up again

After a minute, they pulled away from each other, and Bee tried to say something through the hiccupping of his voice box, but the Prime stopped him with a servo on his shoulder and a small smile that was far from reaching his optics

Which everyone could see since he had yet to re-engage his mask

But they made sure not to bring it up

Soon Optimus was back on his pedes and picking up his axe, gently leading Bumblebee back to the group

Reaching Ratchet, he placed a servo on his shoulder

“Let’s get them back to the ship old friend."

Decepticons: (This one’s a bit shorter I’m afraid – I struggled with coming up with anything for anyone else so this is more headcanon-y)

Warnings: Character Death (AKA YOU), Heavy Descriptions of Gore, Themes of Grieving and Depression.

Now with the decepticons it can be a little different

Depending on what kind of relationship you’ve formed and with who

The Autobots are all tight knit in some way

Whereas with the cons

You could’ve been working with them for eons

But if you’re just another soldier that has been recruited

Then those higher up aren’t gonna bat an optic

They might notice your posts being replaced

But that’s it

However

If you’re higher ranking and have formed some type of relationship with them

Then things are going to go down differently

Soundwave would be inconsolable for a while

The only ones allowed near him were his minicons

Who would scuttle out his berthroom to grab some energon for their robodad, before quickly disappearing back into the dark room

He wouldn’t come out until Megatron demanded entry

And the minocons along with a few others would wait around the corner in the corridor

Tying to get within earshot but failing nonetheless

Megatron then walked out, not bothering with the troops who scattered as soon as he appeared

It would be another day before Soundwave would emerge

But he wouldn’t answer anyone about how he was

He simply got on with his tasks as he did before

Overworking so much that he would have to be dragged to recharge

Life would resume as normal

But during his weekly spying sessions through the security cameras

Starscream would note the pauses the quiet con would take

Each time in the exact same spot

Standing in front of the doors to the comms room where you had worked

Staring in as if he was looking for you to spring out on him

But you never did

Speaking of Starscream

It’s a bit of a 50/50 with him

You could be any rank

And considering how desperate he is to overthrow Megatron and lead the Decepticons

There’s a chance that he could be so obsessed and caught up in his scheming

That he just doesn’t have the spare time to get to know you or basically care about you in any way

But if we went with the other half

And you were someone he had befriended and roped into his overthrowing plans

Then your death would throw him off track big time

It would take him forever to comprehend the fact that the one con he could trust properly on his ship was in pieces that were now drifting somewhere through space

To the other cons he was just being himself after your death

So just annoying

Complaining how he now had to figure out how to achieve the tasks he had set you for universal dominance as well as his own

But the heaving sobs and wails that echoed through the ships corridors late at night said otherwise

Ravage made the unlucky mistake of walking in on Starscream as he curled up underneath his desk

Though not much time was spent inside as Ravage high tailed it out of there, narrowly dodging something being thrown as the seeker screamed for them to get out

Skywarp and Thundercracker had a hard time as well

Feeling the immense grief flowing through the bond of their trine mate’s spark as they watched him brush you off as just another accomplice in front of everyone else

Now

Onto boss man

Megatron would practically explode

He would be throwing himself into every battle and every autobot he can get his servos on

The one commander, apart from soundwave, he could trust with his life

Gone

In a puff of smoke

Well..

More like an explosion

AKA you were blasted to smithereens before he could pull you free from the collapsing power reactor

He would be frozen in place, your decapitated servo still grasped in his own

Bits of wiring and armour plating surrounding him on the floor

Along with the pink flames of your energon that had ignited as it hit the burning debris

He doesn’t quite remember what happened next

All he could recall were flashes of the bodies of other autobots as he tore them apart

And he found himself sat in the medbay, glaring unfocused at the metal floor

And now, in his berth room eons later, he still finds himself staring at the floor

Feeling as useless as the glass case that sat upon his shelf

Where a single servo laid, refusing to rust

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Thank you so much for reading! I will reopen requests at some point, but for now, I'll be posting what I've already written. See you soon!

Do not repost

[siren-141]

regret

summary: after a heated argument ensues, frank accidentally does the unthinkable.

pairing: frank castle x reader

warnings: violence, blood, accidental domestic violence, angst, whole lotta comfort

word count: 1.2k

18+ only, minors DNI

main masterlist

“Can you just fucking let me finish?” you yelled across the apartment, stopping in your tracks as the big, bad Punisher continued to lecture and yell back at you.

“No, I’m not gonna let you finish! What you pulled out there was fucking inexcusable-”

“Since when do I take orders from you?”

It was already a long night, and it was going to be an even longer night. Your home was supposed to be your sanctuary, but right now it just felt like another battleground, like the one you just left on the streets of Washington DC.

“You take orders from me when we’re out there and your life is on the fucking line, that’s when you listen to me!”

“I was doing just fine when you met me, what makes you think I need you to protect me now?”

You could feel the vases rattle with each step that one of you took.

You two had finally tracked down the man you had been waiting to find for months now, and it had wound up in a firefight. You were known for your knife skills, the feared anti-hero of the city as you took out bad guys one by one with your array of blades. Your accuracy was like no other for throwing knives, your slashes and cuts were lethal and confident, and you never backed down from a fight. Your gun skills weren’t too shabby either, but you left that up to Frank ever since the two of you teamed up.

It was an odd team – starting out as a working relationship when he stepped into your city, but soon turning into a situation where the two of you became lovers. Your bloodlust matched his perfectly, you had never met a man who could hold his own like Frank could. You could appreciate the way he treated you kindly. It was a stark contrast to how you were normally treated by your enemies. But you didn’t need him to protect you. You had been doing that all on your own since you got here, and you would continue doing it.

The whole problem began when the firefight was just about to end. You had taken out half of the men in that warehouse, slinking around in the shadows; slitting throats, stabbing necks and hearts and arteries, using various takedown methods that you had learned in the martial arts years prior. Frank had set up traps for other men to walk into – which they did, and the traps had worked – and he had either sniped or shot the other men. The enemy was already dead, the mission was accomplished.

Frank stood in the middle of the warehouse, bodies littered around him, carnage from the both of you that you’d leave the DC police officers to clean up. He was so used to his brute force and bullets taking care of everything that he had already let his guard down, standing above the enemy as he studied the dead body.

“Get down!” and the sound of a bullet was the last thing he heard before you jumped in between him and the gunman that you both thought had already been dead for some time now. You managed to tackle the larger man to the ground, immediately unsheathing a knife from your thigh and throwing it directly into the man’s eye. Now everyone was dead. You laid back on the ground, breathing heavy, not even realizing the blood that had begun to trickle from your arm.

“Fuck, are you serious?” Frank all but yelled at you, hoisting you up to your feet with him. He tore a piece of fabric off from one of the dead men and wrapped it around your arm where the bullet had just grazed above your elbow, and he pulled you by the other arm and out of the warehouse.

Now here you were, back in the safety of your apartment, in a screaming match over your decision to protect your partner.

You walked up to him, steps eerily silent as usual. His back was turned to you, too busy mindlessly moving shit around on the hallway table.

“You need to understand that I care about you, Frank, and I’m not gonna let anything happen to you out there on the field-”

He turned around all of a sudden, raising his arms to a shrugging position to go along with whatever he was about to say, but it all went horribly wrong in that moment.

His quick movements had been too fast as he turned, and he had wound up hitting you square in the face. Everything was silent. Everything was still.

Your head was still turned to the side, hand coming up to make sure there wasn’t any blood trickling down from your mouth. Tears had immediately welled up in your eyes before you even knew it – it had all happened so fast.

“Sweetheart-” Frank had immediately pulled you into him, one arm pulling you in by your waist and the other hand cradling the back of your head. “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t realize you were so close behind me, I didn’t mean-”

He could feel you shake with your sobs, and tears began to come to his eyes too. He just held you tight against him, hand petting at your hair in his best attempt to comfort you. He backed away, holding your face in his large hands, getting a good look at you. He scanned your face, wiping your tears away with his calloused thumbs, making sure there were no bruises forming or no bloody nose or lip. You seemed to be physically fine, but nothing about what just happened was fine.

“Please, let’s go sit down,” you nodded, sniffling as you continued to sob. He led you to the sofa by the hand, gently sitting you down and kneeling in front of you.

“I didn’t hear you behind me, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. You know I’d never hit you, you know I’d never hit any woman but especially not you-”

“I know, Frank. I know.” You continued to cry, the emotions just bubbling over from the loss of adrenaline, the pain in your arm, and the heated conversation from just moments before. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, baby, I hit you straight in the face- are you okay? You look okay but are you really okay?”

“Hurts, but I’ll be fine.” He sighed shakily and pulled you into him again, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I’d never do something like that on purpose, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

You both stayed like that for a while, more minutes than you could count, until you calmed down some. Your mind was swirling with the events of the whole night, how everything was going so well and how everything just went downhill so fast.

-

By the end of the night, you both laid in your shared bed after washing all of the blood and dirt off of you, and after he had properly wrapped your arm. Your head was on his chest, his arm cradling you to him as you drew circles on his skin. Soon enough, you fell asleep, eyes still puffy from the crying, but still so beautiful to him.

“You mean so much to me…I can’t lose you. I don’t know what I’d do if I’d lose you,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

[strwbabydoll]

word count: 1.1k

summary: harry’s angry at the world, himself included and he makes it everyone’s problem but there might be a light coming in the middle of his storm

notes: this is part two of this fic so it is still considered a dark fic. it contains mentions of drinking to cope with his grief, violence inflicted onto others and a brief scene of it as well.

masterlist

- - - -

To say that Harry’s been miserable lately would be a huge understatement. He’s been absolutely insufferable in the past two weeks. He spends all day drinking and holed up inside his office, he’s grumpy and snappy with everybody and he’s even more mean whenever he has to take care of someone. It’s his release in a way, the one safe space he can let out his anger at the world, at the Gallegos for taking away his love, at himself for not doing more.

“Goddamn! Fuck!” He screams in the confines of his office. He down a shot of whiskey and quickly pours himself another one, the burn going down his throat is welcoming — encouraged is the better word for it. His chest rises and falls harshly as he stares at the picture of her. One he had taken a couple of months into knowing each other, a bright smile on her lips and her hair and dress flowing in the wind behind her as they walked through a park. She had wanted a picnic and he was a sucker for her smile, so of course he’d do it for her. It was all worth it in the end, to see the smile plastered on her face and the excitement in her eyes

He misses her terribly, the past week has been the hardest week ever and he doesn’t know if it’ll get any better. He allows the tears to fall freely, to stain his cheeks and the mahogany oak of his desk. It seems as if his tears are never ending, just becoming a permanent addition to his appearance. He can’t bring himself to care, too busy wallowing in his guilt and pain. He guesses he deserves it in a way, none of this would’ve happened if he’d been paying more attention, if they would’ve stayed home or better yet if he’d never given her his number.

He huffs sadly as he wipes his tears away the best he can, he can’t do anything about the stains left on his cheeks. He takes another shot of whiskey and heads towards his office door, he figures now is as good of a time as any, and really he just can’t wait to let out some tension. He walks out the room and down the hall, ignoring the eyes of the few employees gathered around the desk before rolling his eyes as they start whispering.

“Don’t you all have a fucking job to do? This isn’t Barbie’s show where we all sit around and look pretty.” He huffs before mumbling under his breath, watching them with crossed arms as they scramble to find something to do.

He continues walking then, taking deep breaths to try to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He can’t look weak in front of them. He walks past the framed pictures on the wall, past the rooms where clicking and the occasional scream filters through the closed doors until he gets to the last door in the hall. The dark wooden door detailed with swirls and large black handles is heavy as he pushes it open, but he enjoys the pain. His own form of punishment he guesses.

The room is filled with different tools and weapons, lights scattered all over the ceiling but still keeps the room dark enough. He prefers this environment to feel more like a horror movie than just a simple killing room, and wants it to feel eerie and depressing. He wants the room to inflict absolute sheer terror and feet into anyone who just so happens to end up strapped to the chair. His dress shoes click against the concrete floor, echoing around the room and he watches happily as the man strapped to the chair begins to squirm and try to break free. It’s no use though, he’s mastered the best knot to tie around the body and the chair tightly to keep them from moving but also to inflict pain when they try to escape.

“Well, well, well. Not happy to see me?” He asks in a sickly sweet voice, too sweet to be used in such a setting. The man shakes his head violently as he tries rocking the chair side to side, his screams are muffled behind the tape. Harry simply chuckles, he’s always amused at their useless attempts.

“Now, I just have a couple of questions for you. I just need some information and I believe you should be able to help with this.” He says as he leans down so his face is right in front of the man with tears filling his eyes. The man shakes his head and Harry grabs a handful of his hair, firmly holding him in place.

“So you don’t want to leave? I was gonna let you leave if you answer… but since you don’t think that’s fair.. you’ll be stuck here.” He says and he watches as more tears fall from the man’s eyes and Harry just laughs, everyone wants to be all big and bad until they have to confront their behaviors. They think that no one will be able to catch them, they always underestimate his dedication. He’ll search every corner of the internet and the world just to find someone, and he’s been doing that lately. Searching for hours and hours on the internet to find someone.

He pulls himself back as he smiles, he’s gonna enjoy himself through all this. He starts off small, a few punches and rough tugs of the hair, and he relishes in the muffled cries of the man in front. He rips off the tape and the man screams.

“Who wanted my girl dead and why?” He asks and the man shakes his head.

“I don’t know man!” He says through his tears and shakes his head as if he’s disappointed.

“Such a shame.” He says as he walks to a table full of various weapons and tools of all sizes, he grabs a pair of pliers and walks back to the man, hitting the pliers against his palm.

“Maybe this will ring some answers for you, for every question you don’t answer and I’m not satisfied with the answer I’ll pull one of your teeth out. How does that sound?” The man cries and shakes his head.

“Please man, I’m serious! I don’t know anything!” He cries out and Harry sighs.

“Already onto a bad start, my friend.” He says as he yanks the man’s jaw open as he decides which teeth to pull. As soon as he picks one, the door opens and EJ’s voice rings out.

“Hey boss, sorry to bother you but you have a phone call, it’s important.” Harry shakes his head. He should know better than to interrupt him. He’d hate to have to fire him.

“Uh, I’m busy. Tell them I’ll call back later.” Harry replies back, sarcasm and annoyance dripping from his voiceand the door still stays open.

“It’s the hospital, Y/N. She’s alive.”

[introspectivememories]

tim and bernard who break up and it's nothing big, no one cheated or anything. it's just their lifestyles didn't work out well together. tim cannot give up vigilantism currently and bear cannot handle the level of danger tim puts himself in. and on the other hand, tim cannot handle the fact that bear chooses to run into danger as an emt bc he already worries about everything but now he has to worry if he'll find his boyfriend convulsing from fear gas in a random alley but also bear who felt the life drain out of darla cannot stand the thought of not helping people and runs headfirst into dangerous situation after dangerous situation hoping that every person he saves can somehow make up for the fact that he could not save darla.

(he very pointedly does not think about the fact that there was nothing he could do because if he thinks about that, he'll spiral until they have to lock him in arkham too)

and so they break up but they were tim & bernard in high school and when they started dating they balanced out the worst of each other and they became tim&bernard. and everyone who knows them, knows that they're better together but they cant be together, they refuse actually because they cannot lose another person to the violence of gotham and by the time they figure out that they cant work together as long as the other is an emt or vigilante, it's too late for both them. they've already left too many pieces of themselves in each other.

tim still knows what bear means when he says "tim" in that exasperated voice. tim still goes boneless when he hears bear say "baby" in that firm tone. bear can still read tim like a book. he still knows the right way to massage tim's neck so that tim can go to sleep. everyone at the first responders gala knows not to bother ceo drake-wayne and senior emt dowd when they're talking.

(and if they're standing a little too close to each other than what is normal, who are they to judge? everyone knows that dowd and drake-wayne have history)

and if everyone on the night shift has caught red robin with his head tucked into the crook of emt dowd's neck as emt dowd runs a soothing hand up and down the vigilante's back, well then, they just quietly back away.

(after all, dowd's one of like, five, emts that can get the bats to receive medical treatment so if turning a blind eye to whatever the fuck they have going on is what allows them to give back to their heroes, then the night shift will do it every time)

and of course, tim and bear are practical people. they loved (love) each other sure, but when your lives are fundamentally incompatible, well, you cant get too stuck on the what-ifs, that's for sure. and so they do find love with other people and yeah, maybe it's not what they expected love to be when they first fell in love with each other. it's not the bubbly, stomach-swoopy, cant stop grinning, feeling that permeated tim&bernard's early days or the i Know you/you Know me that was their middle or the quiet despair that was their end but it is contentment. and in a life with as many losses as theirs, contentment is something they hold dearly

and they're happy! truly! but sometimes, at galas when they're making each other snort champagne out their noses or in darkened alleyways when their clothes are both stained with blood or at rallies for stricter gun regulations in gotham where they both sit too close to each other, fingers enclosed around each other in a death grip, when the presenters inevitably bring up grieves

(worst school shooting in gotham in decades, there's blood on their hands and blood in their mouths and darla is dead in between both of them and there is a chasm so wide that they are screaming to get their voices across and she will always be dead and maybe this had always been the problem that she is dead and there is no coming back from that and that there is blood on their hands and blood in their mouth and blood on their han-)

but sometimes, most especially on opposite sides of the street, as life pulls them in different directions, just sometimes, they see each other and just for a second, nothing too long, the flap of a hummingbird's wings, the time it takes to blink, an electron's orbital, they look at each other and for the briefest moment, blue on brown, a barely noticeable stutter in their steps, the space between heartbeats, because this is all they will give themselves because they do not dwell on what-ifs or what-could-have-beens, or what-should-have-beens, or delusions of a softer world, their eyes meet and they think to themselves, god, in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with him.

[tangerinesgirl]

Fowl Play

Chapter 1

Fem!Reader x Mark Hoffman x Eric Newlon

Word count: 1.1k

Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors

Warnings: DEAD DOVE, dark fic, non con, pet names, reader in saw trap, violence, no smut (yet), stockholm syndrome

Summary: Eric is back and has enlisted the help of Mark to resume where he left off. Killing people involved in the Black Friday massacre with rigged jigsaw traps.

Notes: Set after the events of Saw 3D and Thanksgiving, no one knows John Carver's identity. I also came up with my original Saw trap for this one which was fun. Currently writing chapter two where things get steamier. I hope you enjoy!

Edit: This fic has now been discontinued, thanks everyone for your continued support.

You jump awake at the sounds of gears churning, unsure what is going on or how exactly you ended up here. You instantly recognise the abandoned Rightmart, the place where all those people were killed a few years ago on Black Friday. The place tried to reopen a few times but it was doomed since that night, people would never forget... you would never forget. You look down and see that you’re sitting on something resembling a pommel horse, with two massive steel black boots on both feet, forcing you into place, but also forcing your weight down after each churn of the cogs. Your hands are also tied behind your back with police handcuffs.

Suddenly you remember all the newspaper articles recently saying that John Carver was back, despite dying in a fire a year ago, the guy behind the Thanksgiving killings on a revenge mission. You just so happened to be in the store on that Black Friday night, but you hid in the clothing section, waiting for it to pass over, you wouldn’t hurt a fly, never mind kill anyone! Why you? 

The cogs start turning faster, and you can feel some of your bones starting to shift and you start to scream and panic. Looking down, you notice the machinery could be in arms reach. You contort yourself to try and wedge the handcuffs in the middle of a cog and *SNAP* they break in half.

You immediately bring your hands up to the seat to try and shift your weight onto them, to give your hips a break. You try to tip the horse over with your weight, but it’s drilled to the floor. You put on a brave face and decide try and break the machinery somehow. You bend back down and you swear you can hear the cogs moving faster again. You panic and decide to just lodge your left hand in the machinery and hope for the best. The thick steel part of the handcuff on your wrist jams a cog for long enough for you to reach with your other hand to unscrew it.

You groan as the blood rushes to your head as you remove the wheel, sitting back up. You let out a deep sigh, thinking you’ve escaped and stopped the machine, but to your surprise, it keeps going. You panic again and start to smash at the metal boots with all your strength to free yourself. The sweat and the blood from your hand made freeing your foot from the first boot surprisingly easy as it just slips out. As you dented the metal of the boot, the cog also broke, so you pick up the boot, swing yourself over, and start smashing the other boot with it. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally break loose and collapse to the floor, letting out a guttural scream as you realise you’ve narrowly avoided death. You realise you don’t have time to sit and cry about it, and need to move to safety. As you stand, your hips struggle to realign themselves, are they broken? Tough shit. Your wrist is still bleeding out but you can worry about that later, you’re more concerned how you’re going to walk out of here.

You wobble quickly through the abandoned store to the main exit. Locked. Of course it wouldn’t be that simple. You jump as you hear a fire exit opening from behind you, and dash to the same clothes aisle you hid that Black Friday night. 

“Clever girl”.

Your eyes widen as you realise you know the voice. The town Sheriff. You’ve always had a little crush on him, even if he did try to literally crush you in return just now. Under normal circumstances, if he had called you a clever girl, you would have been turned on. You can hear his footsteps pacing the empty store. He picks up something off the ground, every urge of your body is telling you to turn around and see what it is, but you don’t. You sit solid in fear, covering your mouth to try and regulate your breathing. You can hear him chuckle slightly, how can he laugh seeing you like this? The sick bastard.

“Shame you weren’t clever enough to cover your tracks”.

You look down and see the blood from your wrist leading directly to your hiding spot. You grab a jumper from a hanger and quickly bandage your hand, and quietly get up to find another exit. Luckily it’s pretty dark, and you have no shoes on, so you can cover the noise from your walking pretty well. You stick closely to the wall, trying to feel for another exit, what little light you had disappearing the further back into the shop you went. You feel a door handle, so you slowly and quietly open it. You try to peer inside when suddenly you feel a rush of pain to your face, sending you a few steps backwards, straight into Sheriff Newlon, wielding an axe. He puts his arms around your waist, using the axe to lift you up off the floor as you kick and scream trying to free yourself. 

“Aw did you really think I would go this alone after the last time? Cute.”

As the Sheriff carries you back the way you came, you can see the face of his accomplice as the security lights outside occasionally flicker to his face. It’s a new detective on the police force, you’ve seen him around before. Then it dawns on you. It’s the guy who was proven to be the jigsaw killer all those years ago. Mark Hoffman. How did no one see this? Maybe they did, and the whole police force is in on this operation. A grim thought. But you’re speculating here. 

The Sheriff slams you back on the floor in the room you just escaped from. You try to get up but he threatens you with the axe, hovering very close to your neck. 

“Don’t even think about it princess”.

Damn it, why does he use pet names for you like this? Your body betrays you as his voice makes you shiver. The Stockholm Syndrome isn’t helping the fact that you actually like this guy in real life.

“You know it’s a shame your contraption didn’t break her hips, Mark”, the Sheriff's gaze still fixed on you.

The Detective speaks up, “You’re right, we will just have to break them another way”.

He bends down to look into your eyes, wiping away your tears. 

“You look very pretty when you cry”. 

You spit on his face, making him flinch slightly. He looks back at you and smiles. 

“I think we can have a little fun with this one”, he says, addressing the Sheriff.