#why are these bitches called COMPANIONS then

[grapecaseschoices]

*squints*

th ... that's it?

if you dont choose to free him you get NO conversation? NONE of the companions approach the Inquisitor about it? They dont say anything when you click them?

[marshymarge]

screaming crying puking shitting pissing why doesnt anybody love farkas why does everyone shit all over him why do they agree with his baseless self-deprecation why why why why why

[gutsby]

Brighter Times

Pairing: Dark!Joel x Reader

Summary: You’ve always been Joel’s favorite. Always.

Warnings: 18+. NONCON. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Graphic depictions of nonconsensual sexual encounters, past and present. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced breeding. Allusions to disordered eating and depression. Age gap. Lima Syndrome (i.e., a reverse of Stockholm Syndrome, wherein a captor grows an attachment to their victim). Orgasm vis-à-vis nipple stimulation. Dacryphilia (brief).

Word count: 8.3k

You made him happy.

Few in your group fully understood the importance of keeping a man like Joel Miller content, but when you didn’t do your part as expected, they sure as hell felt it.

When your wet cunt didn’t wake him up first thing in the morning, or greet him within minutes of his return from a hunt or raid, all of them became the objects of his wrath. He got angry. Impatient. Cruel. Not that those sorts of things weren’t already percolating beneath the surface of your leader’s cold and callous exterior, but when you weren’t fucking him punctually, the bad got much worse.

Which was why you didn’t resist when he called on you all hours of the day. It didn’t matter if you were mending clothes, preparing a meal, feeding the livestock, tending the garden, washing heaps and heaps of bloodstained whatever-the-fucks needed cleaning after the latest, most violent incursion the group had made—Joel took precedence. He always did. His dick was as tyrannical and repulsive as the man it served, and that man didn’t like to wait. For the sake of the group, you never let him.

“Why does she get to stop after just one bucket?”

That came from the same sniveling cunt it always did.

You were picking berries. Your knees groaned and ached from having been plastered to the forest floor a grueling hour and a half last night, getting nailed from behind. One of Joel’s men had died that day. Evidently, it was as much your problem as it was his. Now, it hurt to stand.

It also hurt you to sit, so you were currently propped up against a tree and relishing the momentary respite while the rest of your company went scouring for blueberries.

The woman who led your group—the only other person who knew about your little ‘arrangement’ with Joel, and saw you wincing as you walked to the fields that morning—shot the younger girl a look. She murmured something about it being none of her goddamn business what you did or didn’t do, just mind your own, and silently, you thanked her. You didn’t chance a smile, knowing how much worse the accusations of favoritism would get, but you squared your shoulders. You cast a look around.

And then, as if on cue, the second most dreadful voice you could’ve heard that morning shouted your name from somewhere behind you. You turned, frowning.

“Yeah, Tommy?” you yelled back.

Yards away, the younger Miller brother waved you over.

“C’mere. Joel needs you back at camp, sweetheart.”

As soft, kind, and saccharine as the words seemed reaching your ears, their sound produced the opposite effect. Every head turned to you, and several snickers ensued. Others scowled or rolled their eyes. Meanwhile, your legs felt as heavy as lead trudging that way, and your gut clenched. Why did he have to do this now?

Surely Joel could’ve picked a less conspicuous time.

Was he trying to humiliate you? Let it be known that you were his own human fleshlight, to be used on any urge?

Well, that was kind of what you were. Still, this sucked.

And you were startled again when next Tommy yelled:

“Bring Rachel with you!”

Rachel. The same bitch who berated you relentlessly for getting ‘free passes’ during work and made you feel like shit about yourself every hour of every day? That Rachel?

If Joel was asking for a threesome you’d personally kick his teeth through the roof of his mouth. What an asshole.

To your dismay, Rachel was already trotting beside you.

Smiling.

“Must be my lucky day. I get to fuck off and do noth—”

“Shut up.”

Your new companion’s grin only grew. She leaned closer.

“You think Joel’s gonna ask me to suck his big, fat—”

THWACK.

Admittedly, self-control was never your métier. You smacked her across the face and kept plodding on.

Luckily, the hit was quick, and Tommy didn’t see.

Your voice lowered to a hiss as you drew closer:

“Be my fucking guest. Fuck his geriatric brains out for all I care—it ain’t all the fun you seem to think it is. It sucks.”

And that was the truth. You detested Joel. Every other day was like a waking nightmare with just the Cordyceps shit alone, but having to fuck a creep three times your age? Go right ahead, Rachel. Take him off my hands.

You just hoped Joel would leave you out if she did.

All he’d needed you and Rachel for was mending a fence.

A fence.

Half the camp was gone for the day—either out in the fields or doing recon in a nearby town—and that had meant Joel had had some extra slots left open on perimeter duty. He’d just needed two warm bodies to carry boards over to fix a gap that was left in the thing.

And you felt fucking stupid for being singled out in front of everyone else, all of whom assumed that you and Rachel were sent back to camp to ‘service’ Joel.

The fucking twat.

You’d left as soon as the job was done. You hadn’t bothered going back to scavenge for food or have another little tête-à-tête with your best friend Rachel. You’d gone home and stayed home, where you remained all afternoon in a half-enraged stupor. Your knees ached.

Your head throbbed, too, when, after supper came and went and you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to go, your stomach was empty. You realized you hadn’t eaten since the night before, when Joel had abruptly dragged you out of the canteen for your brutal forest rendezvous. Though the idea of a meal sounded revolting to you, you knew you needed to eat. You just wished it didn’t have to end with your knees bleeding and your back smeared with cum. You rolled onto your side in bed and sighed.

And just when you contemplated closing your eyes and trying to sleep, you heard a knock on your front door.

It was quick and soft.

Probably the kind older woman from your group. She sometimes dropped food off at your place if she noticed you’d been missing from a meal. Slowly, you sat up.

“I’m fine tonight, Cleo!” you called out weakly.

Your belly ached and your head swam with nausea and pain, but right now, the last thing you needed was human interaction. Especially the courteous kind.

The knocks sounded again.

“Cleo, really, I’m alright.”

You felt a bit like shit for treating the one and only friend you’d come to make in months like this, but something in your head just wouldn’t allow for pleasantries. You stared blankly at the door from where you lay in bed.

When several seconds passed and the knocking ceased, you started to close your eyes again, softly and slowly.

And jerked them right back open again when the front door to your home went crashing back on its hinges.

The lock was snapped. The wood bent in with a kick.

You shot up in bed to see Joel Miller barrel through the threshold, arms bulging and broad and bracing themselves hard against the wood that gave way beneath his force. One bicep bled through his sleeve.

“Joel!” You instinctively flinched back where you sat.

You cast a look around yourself to make sure you hadn’t left out any contraband—whether that was magazines, books, or even food your leader didn’t want you eating outside of the dining hall—and your pulse quickened. It spiked when Joel thrust himself into your bedroom next.

You expected him to speak. He didn’t.

You expected him to claw at your body first thing. He did.

Seeing greedy hands outstretched and moving fast on your thin, pale dress, you had only to yelp a weak protest—‘Joel, please, please, no’—and swat helplessly at him. He shoved you off. Ignored your pleas. Didn’t blink twice when your face screwed up in pain at the first pull on your hair. In fact, his grip only tightened. He yanked your face up to greet his own in the dim glow of your room.

“Joel, I don’t wanna,” you whimpered like a beggar.

Joel’s hand made a fist.

“Don’t wanna what?”

Well…have sex.

You couldn’t say the words aloud, but your eyes were silently welling with tears. Your two hands pawed at his forearm and tried to pry it away, but Joel kept holding.

“Don’t wanna what?” he growled.

He glowered down at you. The man wanted a reply.

Slowly, you got your lips to work: “Don’t wanna…do it.”

You had no idea why you were afraid to say the word ‘sex’ around him, but your throat was tightening, and the moisture in your eyes had begun to slide down your face. You met Joel’s gaze with another watery, pleading look.

“By ‘it’ do you mean ‘eat’?” he scoffed. “‘Cause I don’t recall seein’ you in attendance at dinner, sweetheart.”

Your stomach involuntarily clenched.

Your grip loosened from his arm.

Joel’s only constricted. He tilted your head to keep your eyes locked on him. And then he thumbed at your skull.

“What? Cat got your tongue tonight?” he sneered.

Seconds had passed and you still hadn’t spoken.

Your throat was thick with discomfort, but somehow, you managed to muster up the courage to respond quietly:

“I just couldn’t…move much today. I’m still sore, Joel.”

And when you blinked, a new barrage of tears fell.

Frankly, you half-expected your leader to slap you across the face. No bitchin’ about a sore, achy cunt, y’hear me? Your body was made for it. But instead, the hand that ordinarily doled out punishment for whining took to stroking your cheek while the other held your hair.

Joel nearly looked sympathetic to your plight.

Then he cupped your chin. Lifted it to him.

“Was I too rough on you last night, hm?”

You nodded slowly.

For some reason, seeing him appear kind and contrite made your stomach turn worse than if he’d just hit you. You winced when his thumb stroked your bottom lip.

Then he loosened his grip from your hair and your chin and he dropped down beside you in bed. He sat back.

Joel straightened against the headboard and regarded you with an inscrutable look. You couldn’t tell if he was pitying you or preparing for the roughest fuck of his life.

Maybe both.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose.

“I-I know you like what you do to me—and how good it makes you feel—but my body ain’t made of rubber, Joel. I can’t just…go back to normal after you…you do those…”

Without your permission, your face screwed up again.

Fuck, were you about to start full-on sobbing?

No, no you were not.

You forced your gaze to the ceiling and started blinking.

And before you knew it or could attempt to get him to stop, Joel leaned in closer to you. He brushed a knuckle against your cheek, which sharply turned from his touch.

“Hey,” he started, low. You expected him to strike you.

Then the words came out even more softly than the first:

“‘S’alright. I know it hurts. I know you’re still hurtin’.”

Almost as quickly as you’d turned from him, your head cocked back. You couldn’t believe that tone of voice.

Joel had never spoken so gently to you in your life.

It wasn’t like he was incapable of it. The man had a dog, and every so often, you heard him talk sweet to the little wiry-haired mutt. C’mere, sugar, that’s it. You like those little scratches jus’ behind your ear, don’t ya, Daisy girl?

It sounded pathetic, but there had been a time when you wished Joel would speak to you that way. At least with the dignity he gave a dog—why didn’t you deserve it?

Presently, your eyes were fixed on his. You frowned.

“What? Y’think I’m some kinda monster who can’t tell when somebody’s a little wore-out? C’mere, kiddo.”

C’mere.

Well, at least you got the same treatment as Daisy.

It wasn’t regularly in your best interest to be drawing anywhere close to Joel Miller, so your body stayed planted where it was on the other side of the bed. You grimaced only a little when you felt his hand close around your wrist and tug you over to where he sat.

His shirt smelled of blood and something woodsy.

Both made you want to recoil, but Joel held tight.

“Now don’t go squirmin’ away. Hey.” He shook you once, when you’d unconsciously jerked back from his grip, and your body froze in place. You knew that hold well, and how tight and unforgiving it could get. You didn’t move.

“That’s better,” Joel hummed. “Now, on your side.”

The order made your skin bristle, but you followed it.

Joel smiled and proceeded to lie down next to you.

That big, broad, bleeding arm you’d seen before was shortly enveloping your frame, dragging your back to press up against his front, and then snaking around your waist. Joel held you to him so that his face could rest comfortably behind your shoulder. You tensed up.

This was how it started.

Joel behind you, holding you tight so that you couldn’t escape. In no time at all, he’d be unzipping the fly on his jeans, unbuckling his belt, and then pressing his palm flat across the side of your face, telling you to stay still, or I’ll make sure you regret it. You didn’t often get a warning before Joel pushed inside. There had never once been a time when he’d asked if it would be OK to do it.

You didn’t expect tonight to be any different.

In an effort to ease his passage and save yourself any more pain than was absolutely necessary, you closed your eyes and tried to think about pleasanter things.

Like plush, stubbled lips brushing up the column of your neck. Hands kneading the flesh around your hips in a comforting way. Eyes trailing lightly—appreciatively—over your body as you’d always thought a lover might do.

It wasn’t like you were craving romance, per se. Hell, the concept of it half-scared you to death, with the thought of someone else touching your body and cherishing it and not wanting to use it merely as a means to an end seemed like something out of a fairytale book at this point in your life. You’d accepted that love would never touch you personally; these fantasies that played on repeat in your mind were little more than a vestige of a world no longer in existence. There was nothing wrong indulging when faced with a thing as awful and raw as—

“Hey.”

Joel shook you again.

Your chin jerked back to him, and you blinked.

“Y-Yeah?”

Over your shoulder, Joel stared back at you.

“You need a minute?”

You blinked again. You couldn’t hope to control the look of pure bewilderment that was painting your expression.

“What?”

“Do you…need a minute? Y’know, to stop the…hurtin’.”

Joel had never stopped to consider your pain in all the years you’d known him. Not on a raid, not out in the fields, not on a ‘job’ you both knew you hated, like cramming his dick in your mouth or any other place he deemed appropriate. He’d regarded your feelings as something ancillary, always. Even as you’d sobbed in his arms before, his choices invariably, inevitably defaulted to him. Without fail. Why he was acting any differently now was beyond you. You sat back, fully dumbstruck.

“What?” you asked him again.

Behind you, Joel just smiled.

He trailed his touch up the side of your body as if it were the most normal thing to do in the world, and he stopped when it reached the crook of your neck. He brushed his knuckles against your pulse point, then stroked it more.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

Your mouth was dry. Somehow, you managed to indicate with your fingers and a murmur that it hurt right…here.

Just below where his own hand had strayed, there was a bite mark on your collar bone where Joel had sank his teeth into flesh the night before. The wound was bright red and throbbing, reminding you every hour how wholly he controlled your body. Your frock bared the sight for everyone in camp to see, including the man himself.

Joel leaned down and kissed it.

Where canines had once punctured skin and pulled back to flash you a smug, conceited grin, beaming at the way they had marked you up, Joel’s lips only soothed it now.

He caressed the little lesions on your skin and drew back.

“Where else?” he asked.

Still, your mind was too discombobulated to form a single coherent sentence, so you pointed instead.

With a slow, shaky hand, you gestured to your legs.

Joel peered down after it, down the mattress.

“Banged your knees up pretty bad, huh?”

“Y-Yes.”

In your mind, you sounded pathetic. Yes, these poor little legs had to hold yourself up in doggystyle last night after Joel had decided to fuck a day’s worth of frustration into your cunt. That was the norm.

And this was where Joel would slide down the bed to grip your thighs, hold them tightly, and press his lips to all the cuts and bruises on your kneecaps, apparently.

You watched it all unfold with a harrowing sense of awe.

He’d never touched you there. He’d never kissed you there. Joel Miller had never so much as held your hand unless it had been to drag you someplace dark and isolated, and now he was petting your injured legs?

Out of habit, you jerked back from that touch.

You clambered quickly, gracelessly up the bed into a kind of half-sitting position, and with your eyes wide and fixed on his, you managed the first words in what felt like ages:

“What are you doing, Joel?”

The man who’d just kissed your neck and your kneecaps planted a hand on the bed. He slid closer to you, no doubt seeing a fear seize your features as he did.

He placed that palm on your thigh. He squeezed it lightly.

“I’m tryin’ to be nice. Helpful an’ all that.”

You didn’t know what that meant.

You were so stunned by his words and actions that you scarcely even felt it yourself when fingers tapped skin.

Joel drummed a gentle beat, posing a new question.

“Where else does it hurt?”

“It…it…”

You shook your head. Blinked through your present daze.

“Show me where it hurts. Use your hands,” Joel said.

So you did.

Gingerly, wordlessly, you drew your hand to your tummy. You placed a palm over your middle and felt pretty silly.

It hurts inside.

You didn’t give me a chance to prepare last night, and now every inch where you invaded feels like it’s on fire.

You wished you had the strength to tell him it hurt. That you hated him for it and wished he were dead most days. Instead, when Joel placed his hand over yours and searched your eyes with a soft, tender look in his, you felt tears spring up again. You shook your head, wincing.

“It hurt here, too?” Joel nearly whispered.

Now you nodded your head. Yes, it hurts.

And Joel stroked it gently. Delicately.

He lowered his scarred, stubbled face to yours, and in yet another act that would leave you shocked for hours, he kissed your cheek. He continued to rub your stomach.

Meanwhile, it felt like your gut plummeted to the floor.

Done jumping away for the time being, though, you tilted your head to him. You opened your mouth to either speak or suck in a breath, and suddenly that, too, was invaded by his mouth. Joel kissed you on the lips.

It was so soft you didn’t think to stop him.

The man had forced your mouth to his plenty of times before, but never had it felt like this—featherlight, gentle.

The kiss was as calming as it was disconcerting. Joel’s lips worked expertly over your own, which were limp and unmoving, and a hand cupped your cheek. You didn’t close your eyes, even when his tongue traced the seam of your lips. This was how the lovers in your dreams always kissed. But Joel was no lover; this was odd.

“Wanna lay back?” he asked after pulling away.

You didn’t. But you did it anyway.

With Joel following your descent to the bed, slotting overtop your body in the fashion of a man about to mount, you thought surely it would happen now.

He would fuck you, whether you liked it or not.

Those kisses had been but a sickening prelude to something much worse, something more violent than you could likely even imagine. You closed your eyes.

Joel slid between your legs.

He pressed his hips to yours.

His breaths fanned over your face in a familiar and menacing way, and his expression was probably cruel.

He kissed you again.

This time, you couldn’t help but jump. He was using tongue, gently. Working the muscle in your mouth like he wanted you to enjoy the feel and savor the taste of him.

You’d been fucked against your will many times. You had no idea how to tongue-kiss someone and make it good.

You whimpered into Joel’s mouth, and as if sensing your thoughts, he drew back. He peered down, smiling faintly.

“Is this OK?”

A beat.

“I— I guess.”

Joel fully grinned at that, teeth gleaming in the lamplight. He pecked your lips again, softly, and you could feel a chuckle rumble through his chest as he did.

“You are too precious, y’know that?” he said.

You sat in silence while he leaned back to lift the hem of your dress. Again, you thought he would be undoing his belt and the zip on his jeans and then shoving his cock inside you in the next moment. That was usually how it went. But for what felt like the hundredth time that night, you were surprised to find that he wasn’t pursuing that route at all. He was simply raising your dress above your belly so that he could rub the tender skin that was there.

He pressed a palm to your tummy, and it had an alarmingly calming, warming effect. Your muscles eased under his touch. Though your chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths at the prospect of what was to come next, your lower half was tranquil. The pain ebbed away.

Your gaze flickered to Joel’s face, and you found he was already watching you intently. He tipped his chin down.

“Feel any better?”

You waited. You watched him back.

After a second, you nodded your head.

And that wasn’t a lie. His hand smoothing circles over your stomach had made the ache from last night drain out of you, it seemed. You couldn’t believe it. Slowly, a pleased smile worked its way onto Joel’s face, and he was rubbing circles even gentler than he had before. He kissed your forehead, and something stirred inside you.

You ignored it.

You blinked, and suddenly, Joel was lifting your hemline higher with his other hand. Up your belly, your ribs, and—

“Hey.” That came out as more of a squeak than a plea.

Joel’s smile didn’t flinch. He dragged the fabric past your chest, baring your breasts to the open air, and strangely, his gaze never left your face. You shot a look down in embarrassment, wanting him to pull it back into place, but you didn’t dare take hold of the hem yourself. You just sat back in muted discomfort, wanting to move.

“‘S’okay. They’re just more body parts, kiddo. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with showin’ ‘em off when I’m here.”

They were nothing he hadn’t seen before, either.

You squirmed in place and pursed your lips.

And, though you wanted his gentle ministrations on your stomach to continue, this kind of development made you antsy. Achy. You couldn’t quite explain the medley of strange emotions that came from being bare around a man like Joel, in a context like this, but you were almost positive you didn’t like it. You peered up at him, pleading.

“What’s the problem? I just wanna help,” Joel replied.

And, before you could shoot another look his way or turn from him, curling away, he did something unexpected.

He leaned down and, just like he’d done with his mouth working yours, he pressed a kiss to one of your breasts.

He didn’t budge, even when you did.

Even when you jumped—plainly frightened of that new, wet feeling latching onto your nipple—Joel rooted himself in place and didn’t stray an inch from where he was. He sucked on that stiff, hardened peak with all the assuredness he had mowing down herds and herds of infected in the woods outside your community, and it didn’t seem to register at all with him that you were uncomfortable. He simply licked and sucked and kissed.

The ache in your belly got bigger, but not with any pain.

Joel sucked your nipple into your mouth, and you felt it—trembling pleasure. The kind you fantasized about when the man was otherwise draining the sensation from your body with every brutal stab of his hips. At last, it was a thing for you to feel, and not just dream about. The shock hit so hard you had to grip something behind you.

Your pillow.

That was fine.

You sucked in a breath that sounded a bit more like a gasp than a normal inhale, and you clasped on harder.

“Joel,” you mewled.

Joel lifted his head.

“What’s wrong? Did that hurt?”

Your wide eyes met him, bewildered.

“I…”

You swallowed, so wholly unacquainted with the feeling you didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t painful, just a bit…

“Strange, huh?” Joel grinned.

The hand that rubbed your stomach moved to your side to tickle it lightly. You jerked again, and the grin grew.

His mouth lowered back to your breasts—the other one, now—and his eyes never left yours once while he did. He kissed your nipple like he’d done to the first. You saw his tongue dart out past cracked lips, under a sea of mostly grey facial hairs, and he licked that hardened nub. He smeared saliva all over the flushed little thing, and you should’ve been disgusted by how much spit spread down your skin, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to hate it. The feelings his actions roused were pleasurable.

You blinked and let out a ragged breath.

You drew another into your lungs, and your chest shook.

Joel couldn’t have looked more enamored if he tried.

“Does that make the hurt go away? Make you feel a little…warm and tingly inside?” he asked you delicately.

“Feels…yeah.” You’d lost the power to think again.

You’d lost the powers of basic human cognition, and all you wanted was for his lips and tongue to caress your nipples. This man that you hated made you feel something good. You didn’t have words for it.

“Has anyone ever done this to you before?”

Right as he asked it, Joel returned to where he’d been and dragged his mouth over one peak. He sucked it in between his lips, then released it with a loud, wet pop.

You couldn’t help it; you whimpered.

You let out a shrill, soft whine like this was the single best thing you’d ever felt, and Joel Miller was the cause of it.

He did it again.

And again.

And he reached up to tweak your other nipple between his forefinger and thumb at the same time, and that was when you felt it: a hot coil. A tightening knot. You sighed.

Your chin jerked down to your chest to see the chaos for yourself, and you found Joel grinning back up at you.

“Has anyone ever done this to you?” he reiterated.

“No.”

You shook your head. You wanted more.

You needed more of his mouth, more of this feeling, and you hated feeling beholden to anyone else, but a pleasure like this felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to a girl like you, and you had no idea when the next time Joel would ever be this nice, so you asked.

“Can— can you do it again?”

Joel obliged you without another word.

He took sweet, pebbled flesh between his teeth and tugged it. Pinched your nipple with his fingers and twisted. Licked you repeatedly, drenched you with his spit, and somehow, you loved every filthy second of it.

You ground your heels into the bed. The own noises bubbling out of your throat were growing louder, and Joel’s suckling sounds, too, were picking up volume as he worked his mouth quicker and harder and greedier than he had before. The wrinkles and the greys on his face showed his age with every breath he took—made this whole encounter feel that much more depraved—but how he took you between his lips made him seem years younger. Ebullient and spry and keen in how he did it.

That old, strange something in your tummy was growing. You were hardly aware of what it meant, much less able to control how it spread. It swelled inside you, and all you knew was that you wanted it to keep billowing, keep rising, keep numbing the pain inside you, and save you from the harsh, cruel reality of the hand you’d been dealt in sex to date. You wanted to get to feel good, for once.

Joel drew your nipple in his mouth one last time for a thick, wet brush from the tip of his tongue, and that was when the knot in your stomach snapped. You cried out loud, eyes almost crossing from the sheer pleasure that was coursing through your body and—shit, was this what Joel got to feel every time he pushed himself in you?—your toes curled. Your eyes closed. Your back promptly arched off the bed, pushing your chest even more into him, and the man clearly didn’t mind in the slightest. He continued to lap at your taut, sensitive flesh while he pinched at the other, and something like a groan thrummed through his chest. You could feel it.

When your eyes opened again, they landed on his face.

Joel’s was upturned, addressing you with a beaming sort of look while he hovered no more than an inch or so over your breasts and panted like he’d just sprinted a mile.

“Did you just…orgasm?” he asked, half-breathless.

You weren’t totally sure what that was—had never experienced one yourself, so you couldn’t say with certainty if that was what it had been. You stared back.

“I don’t know.”

You swallowed, hoping that wouldn’t make him angry.

On the contrary, Joel swept you into his arms a moment later. He held you tight to his chest, your breasts pressing to his white, soiled shirt and briefly commingling with the blood spattered there.

You tensed out of habit. Then you eased just a bit.

He was hugging you. Crawling up your body in bed and laying you back in the sheets, where you’d so kindly just showed a climax Joel almost certainly wasn’t expecting.

He kissed your neck. Your cheeks. Your lips. He overcrowded your space, but your head was so busy with all the bright, fuzzy feelings of release that you didn’t have the sense to notice. Dimly, you heard the clink of a belt, but in your near-anoetic state, it didn’t fully register.

That was what it was supposed to feel like.

No crying, no begging, no pleading for your life.

Just bliss, swollen to the limit and flooding your system.

You wanted to do it again. Maybe not with Joel, but just a man who put your pleasure first. The one you always pictured in your fantasies could be a reality, someday. He’d probably be a little closer to you in age, maybe learning these things for the first time like you. You could experience it together; you wouldn’t have to remain the way you were under Joel’s thumb if you just branched out a bit. Talked to people who weren’t him. The sudden influx of dopamine and oxytocin had your head humming with new ideas, and you knew it was likely too soon to start planning a way away from Joel, but just maybe—

“That was the best thing I ever seen,” he said presently.

You snapped back into the moment and saw Joel hovering over your frame: hips bracketed by your legs and arms bracing themselves on either side of your head on the pillow. His jeans and boxers were shoved down his thighs, just far enough to let his cock spring free of its confines, and currently, the round, leaking head of the thing was gliding up and down your slit. You shuddered.

“What— what was the best thing?” You needed to stall.

Joel brightened above you, like he was charmed by the tone of voice you’d used. He leaned in and kissed you.

You tried not to wince. You tried to look positive.

“You. Cummin’ from just my tongue and fingers on your nipples. Sexiest sight I seen. I knew you’d come around.”

Joel grabbed the base of his dick and started lowering his hips to draw closer to your entrance. He bumped the ring of muscles with the tip, and you were stunned to hear a weak, but audible squelch from where he met you.

You couldn’t see it now, but you could feel the insides of your legs soaked through with your arousal. It dripped like nectar from your cunt and gave Joel the perfect opportunity to slick himself up with your wetness.

The old man rolled his hips and nudged you again.

“It’s gonna be so much better from now on,” he went on. “Tommy was right—a little sweet talkin’, nipple tweakin’ before a man gets to stick it to his woman and she’ll make it real easy by gettin’ wet. Even better if she cums.”

Your stomach turned at those words: his woman.

You didn’t want to do this with Joel again, at least not in the way he’d just made you climax. That felt intimate, and completely wrong for the dynamic you two had developed. As you slowly made the descent from replete pleasure to dread, you sensed something extra warm, leaking beads of precum at your still-wet entrance.

Joel planted an arm even closer beside you and nudged your nose with his own. His eyes were glossy and wide.

You knew a good man wouldn’t be found behind them.

He sank the first inch of his cock within the embrace of your cunt, and the face above you twisted. Yours did, too.

His was out of pleasure. Yours was more like a life-sized, grating kind of agony for which you could not find a name. Your body ached with it, though you didn’t dare to show it on your face. You sighed instead. You bit your lip.

And all the while, Joel was wedging his impossibly hard member inside you. Making way by force, but in a much less painful way than he had before. You were wet enough to give him a tolerably smooth entrance.

He filled every ridge and crevice of your most intimate place, and he heaved a groan at the gratifying sensation.

Joel always enjoyed sex with you.

Even at his lowest, with his eyes seeing nothing but red and likely viewing you as more sentient hole than human being, he always preferred the space between to your legs to anyplace else. As far as you knew, he had sex with no one else but you. Sometimes, you wondered why.

But tonight, you couldn’t think for long when the tip of Joel’s cock kissed the edge of your cervix. For the first time in your life, it didn’t hurt, and in fact felt pretty nice. You made a face to mask the pleasure, and his length buried itself even deeper. Joel groaned as you whined.

“That feels good, don’t it?” he murmured. His hips increased their pace, and suddenly, his thrusts were shaking you. Your bed frame clanged against the wall.

Out of sheer necessity, you had to wrap your arms around the back of Joel’s neck as he fucked you. You felt the weight of his balls slap your ass with every thrust he delivered, and your heels dug hard into his lower back. Slick sounds and stifled whines were all you could hear for several seconds, save for Joel’s breathing, which was loud and shallow. You detected a trace of bourbon on it.

“That feels nice, havin’ your old man balls deep in this sweet, perfect cunt, huh? Tell me,” he said, tone dark.

You nodded once.

Your eyes pricked with moisture again, and this time, you couldn’t tell with any degree of certainty which emotion it stemmed from. You felt vulnerable. Overwhelmed. Like you weren’t in control of yourself—which, physically, you weren’t—and you couldn’t decide what words or sounds would come from you next. You held onto Joel tighter.

His cock plunged in and out at a dizzying pace. He didn’t slow when he saw your tears, but they did beckon him in.

Joel cupped your face in a sly, patronizing way. Smiling.

“You’re scared to feel good. That’s what’s holdin’ ya back,” he said gently, as if it was the most obvious thing.

His thumb brushed your cheek just as he bottomed out, and your body convulsed. You cried some more, wanting to push him out completely, but the feeling was oddly stimulating, too. Joel went on to catch every tear that crawled down your face, and he wiped each one away. He got a half-crazed look in his eye, and he smiled again.

Then he stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked.

He was fucking you, and he was tasting your tears.

You’d never seen anything more disturbing in your life but were forced to hide your aversion as Joel continued.

“Pussy’s all wet. Soakin’ me just like these pretty little tears. That must mean she likes me, darlin’. She likes it.”

“But I—” you started, breath catching on a particularly hard thrust. “—I’m still hurtin’. You— you’re hurtin’ me.”

Perhaps an appeal to his pathos would slow him down. Get him to stop, or at least quit eating your fucking tears.

Joel’s tongue would lick you occasionally when a fresh stream trickled down. He did it again, even while you writhed in pain. He grabbed your face, and he groaned when your walls clenched involuntarily around his length.

“It’s all— all in your head, honey. You want this. Your cunt wouldn’t be half as soaked as it is, and you wouldn’t be cryin’ with pleasure if you didn’t need it as badly as me. You’re just…scared to feel good, is all it is. Let go of that.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing—and were equally dismayed to find that your wet, achy cunt was making noises beneath Joel’s thrusts so obscene you would’ve sobbed harder to know it was you who was making them. Slowly, sluggishly you pushed at his chest.

“I ain’t— ain’t scared, Joel. I don’t like this,” you wailed.

“Sure you are. You feel guilty about how good this feels.”

Well, maybe there was some truth to—

“No.” You shook your head. “I-I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don—”

“Is that why you sent her over for me, sweetheart?”

You froze. Joel’s thrusts slowed down a little.

What was he talking about? Who was ‘she’?

As if reading your mind, Joel went on.

“Rachel. You sent her, didn’t you?”

You had no fucking clue what he was talking about. All you knew was that you loathed the girl and were trying your hardest not to succumb to the pleasure that was building with every second. Somehow, Joel’s gentler strokes made you throb and ache in the best way.

Your gaze flitted down to see his hips meeting yours relentlessly—cock plunging in and out at a grating rhythm and making a mess of your shared fluids. Sweat coated your skin; the bed continued to creak and groan.

“R-Rachel?” you whimpered back.

Joel’s gaze narrowed at you.

“Don’t act naïve, honey.”

Suddenly, he was stopping completely to push your legs over his shoulders. Your limbs were limp and gave no resistance. Then he resumed his soft, steady thrusts.

Your pussy squeezed him even tighter at this angle, and Joel swore under his breath. You whined at feeling it, too.

“After you two helped…fix that fence,” he grunted out, eyes focusing on yours. They were markedly more stern. “I was back home tendin’ to my arm. Rachel stopped by.”

You glanced to Joel’s bicep, which was bulging and still staining the sleeve of his shirt through the fabric. The red patch seemed to grow darker with every push of his hips, but maybe you were imagining things. Trying to distract yourself from the eyes that were boring into your skull.

“She must’ve heard I got hurt last night. Or somebody told her,” Joel went on, unfazed. His cock kept drilling, rendering you immobile on the bed underneath him. “Either way, she made it real clear…real fuckin’ quick that my injury wasn’t the only thing that brought her there.”

Gradually, heat rose to your cheeks.

No way had Rachel done what you thought she did. What you told her sucked, and wasn’t worth any of her time.

“She seemed to think you were gettin’—” Joel paused to drive his cock in hard, hitting your sweet spot as he did. “—preferential treatment of some kind, on account of what you do for me. She wanted the same treatment.”

Now your face was on fire.

That fucking idiot.

“W-What did you say?” you asked weakly. It wasn’t even your curiosity that was piqued—it was genuine fear for what Joel might’ve done had he been of a mind to be offended by her offer. What he was liable to do if he thought you were behind it. You swallowed hard and had no choice but to ignore the growing coil in your stomach.

“I said what any man in my position would’ve told her,” Joel sneered, and your feelings of trepidation only rose.

Against your will, the pleasure in your lower half stretched commensurate with your panic, and you found yourself trembling, teeth grinding together, and eyes itching to roll back in bliss and raw, unmitigated dread.

You weren’t sure if this was preparation to cum or to cry. By the look on Joel’s face, it appeared he craved both.

He gripped your chin in one hand and brought his face right down to yours. His hips didn’t withdraw again; he wedged his cock in deeper and deeper, until it felt as if something were ready to snap, and you cried out, shrill.

“Joel, please.”

“Wanna know what I said?”

“Y-Yes. And stop. Please, no deeper.”

His tip was hitting your cervix repeatedly. His knees were bracing themselves hard against the bed, like he couldn’t get far enough inside your soft, lithe body and the mewling sounds you made were invitations to go further.

They weren’t.

He knew they weren’t.

Still, Joel’s grin was wide as he pinched your face in his hand and grit his teeth like he was proud. Listen to me.

“I told Rachel to get fucked, that’s what,” he snarled. “But not by me. I only fuck women I’m in love with.”

Out of all the things he could’ve said, that was the worst.

Your face fell where he held it, and your eyes widened.

You wanted to shake your head, but his grip was tight.

“Joel.” At the same time, fear flooded you.

Nothing made sense like it should’ve. Nothing felt right, and that was ignoring the fact that you were being forced to fuck a man you so thoroughly despised.

Joel was watching your expressions. Waiting for you to process what he’d said, and when he saw that you had, he assumed an even more brutal pace with his thrusts. He carved at your insides with his cock, pleased as ever.

“Didn’t even…realize it until she approached me today,” he confessed, chuckling when he felt your walls clench—and at the same time, more tears welled up beneath him.

You were going to cry again, except now you were also on the brink of climax. Split down his cock and whining.

“You were made for me, sweetheart. No one’s ever…ever gonna touch what’s mine or get between me and you.”

Those words made you want to die.

Tears were spilling out, and you sobbed.

“You— you don’t mean that, Joel,” you cried.

“But I do, baby,” Joel teased. He pushed your legs even higher when he leaned down to kiss you, and you didn’t miss the way he licked at your tear-streaked skin after. He was sick. Repulsive. Shameless in what he was doing. “If someone like Rachel thinks she can drive a wedge between us, who’s to say there ain’t others who feel the same? Folks need to see who you fuckin’ belong to.”

With that, the man seemed to confirm your worst fear.

His gaze locked on yours, and he thumbed at your cheek one last time. Then he slid his touch down your body, to find your clit, and started rubbing mercilessly. Your hips bucked under his touch, throat working and begging him, hoarsely, stop touching me there, I don’t like it.

In truth, that place was about to send you over the edge. You didn’t like it; you loved it. You hated that you relished every second stretched over Joel’s length and how good it made you feel. You hated him. You hated him so much.

“I love you, honey,” Joel panted, lips grazing over yours.

One more push of his hips and your ankles were almost hovering by your ears. He had you folded in half for him.

And his circles on your clit weren’t stopping anytime soon. He jerked himself in and out of you, again and again, a little sloppier now with how much focus he was placing on that tiny, pulsing bud. Your stomach clenched.

Your walls bore down, and it was clear you didn’t have a say in the matter: you were tumbling toward climax again whether you liked it or not. Your whines turned to shrieks.

“I— I-I don’t love you, Joel,” you said through your teeth. “I fucking hate you. You’ll never mean…anything to me.”

Frankly, you didn’t give a single fuck whether he beat you for it later. He was damn near making you say it.

And rather than bristle with rage, Joel only beamed.

“You mean it, baby?”

Fucking psychopath.

You would’ve reached up and clawed at his face in desperation had your own not been cupped in his hand next. Gently and affectionately, he drew it closer to him.

You mean it?

“We’ll see how you feel when you’re carrying my child.”

Your eyes went wide. Joel’s grin grew bigger.

No.

No.

No, no, no, no, NO.

You weren’t thinking. You reared back and finally landed that taut, sharp blow across his face. The man didn’t flinch, even as you reached out again and raked your nails into his cheek—you fucking sick, sick bastard.

His skin bled. His lip split from where you’d hit him.

All the while, he kept that smile stretched wide.

He seemed to revel in your hatred, leaning in to tell you again: ‘Folks need to see who you fuckin’ belong to, hon.’

“And now they will,” he went on, tone taunting and low.

Joel made sure you felt him from then on. Ensured he shouldn’t budge a single inch and you wouldn’t either. Even as you grit your teeth, cursed him up and down, kept fighting tears—and losing—he wasn’t letting you off.

He would be getting you off, though.

With one more kiss to your neck and a quick series of circuits with his thumb, you were coming apart beneath him. You couldn’t help it. Every last nerve-ending in your body was shot, and you couldn’t breathe without sobbing through tears of misery and pleasure.

Like most every other moment you’d endured that night, your climax was against your will. Your walls pulsed and spasmed, and the fast circles on your clit nearly sent your vision blurring from how indescribably good it felt. All the while, inside, you were cursing Joel’s name and hating him more than you ever had before. Your orgasm triggered his own, and you wished you’d never been born—if this was how your life was to be spent, with the spray of a pervert’s seed painting your walls every night until you gave him a child, well…you would rather be dead.

Better yet, he should be dead.

The idea took root in your mind the second Joel had emptied the last spurt of warmth inside you and drew back with a crooked, sleepy grin. When he kissed you, and licked up the side of your face to collect whatever tears had trickled down since your orgasm had hit, the thought was cemented in your mind. Tired as you were yourself, you couldn’t show this on your face or betray a shred more of your outright contempt, or determination, than you were feeling right now. You let him kiss you. Let him lick you wherever he pleased, tell you he loved you and knew you would love him too, one day, as much as you would love his baby. His cock rutted deeper inside you with a low and sickening squelch, and by the time he’d rolled away, you’d made it a promise to yourself.

Whether it was today, tomorrow, or ten years from now—no matter how long it would take—Joel Miller was dead.

And that made you happy.

[soldiersgirl]

THE NURSE WILL SEE YOU NOW.ᐟ

summary ⭑ soldier boy was wounded, his heart broken that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to get on your good side. luckily, the nurse had time to bandage him up and remind him who he really was. (part one / part two.) cw ⭑ pornstar!reader x pornstar!soldier boy. payback era. 18+ smut (MDNI). porn with some plot. corny porn names. mean soldier boy. nurse x wounded soldier dynamic. swearing. manipulation. arguing. insults. mentions of drug-taking, smoking and drinking. kissing. gaslighting. fake injuries. light slapping. degradation. praise. dirty talk. begging. tit job. choking. oral (fem & m receiving). fingering. protected p in v (safe sex work is important). overstimulation. riding. missionary. name calling (doll, dollface, angel, baby, princess, sweetheart, bitch, whore). word count 5,781 words

soldier boy didn't let up. like any good soldier, he never gave up; he persevered. anything to see you just once more. to feel you, taste you. his dislike for you had been overtaken by his need to be liked by you. all women fell at his feet, adored the ground he walked upon in his maroon supe-boots with his heavy shield resting on his back; like an old friend resting a comforting hand on him. he invited the familiarity of his most trusted companion that soothed him in his times of emotional turmoil that ripped through him and manifested in throwing tantrums in vought board rooms and tearing down the ego's of the board members, who believed they could control him. no matter how much they tried to convince him that his numbers were fine and he didn't have to film with you again, he wouldn't listen. he needed to film with you again.

but you didn't share the need. not at all. vought interns constantly called you, knocked on your door and, almost, harassed your manager. she begged you to finally listen to them seeing as "hearing them out won't cost you a dime.", only making you roll your eyes and reluctantly agree. you finally sat down with them and agreed to one final film together, but only if you finally got some of that creative authority you so craved. you got to pick the set, the dynamic, the costumes. when news returned to you that soldier boy agreed to your conditions, you couldn't believe it. captain control let you decide something? the power was finally in your hands and you knew exactly what you had to do.

after a few days of planning and coordinating with vought, the set had been made, the costumes had been tried on and fitted and the script, that had just come off the printing press, was a warm comfort in your hands. your body surged with excitement. soldier boy had been kept in the dark, as part of your agreement to this last film, and his face gave it all away when he stepped onto your intricately planned set.

an old infirmary tent had been pitched up in one of vought's studios, the classic red cross splashed across the outside, and the entrance flap buckled open to reveal the infirmary beds that soldier boy recognises immediately, during his pr stunts– no, sorry, during his service to his country. the country that he, supposedly, had fought for during countless wars, battles, and conflicts. his eyebrow twitched and his skin prickled as he strode into the middle of the tent and felt nausea hit him like a wave. you were mocking him. this was all one big joke to you. he now understood why he wasn't allowed to know one single detail, because if he had known it would've been this? this would've never happened. over his own dead body. the familiar bustle and clangs of a med-cart rush past him, stuffed with gauzes, band-aids and fake needles as the other interns set up an IV with a fake-saline drip next to the only bed with pink bed-sheets and a vase of matching pink flowers on the bedside table. he scoffs to himself. this simply has to be a fucking joke. the board members can't have approved this, this would make him a laughing stock. but... they had. soldier boy's words ring in his own head.

"i want this to happen, no matter the fuckin' cost. so don't come to me with ur pathetic what ifs and buts. make it happen or somebody's gettin' thrown through a fuckin' window." followed by their pathetic nods and almost silent "yes sir"'s.

soldier boy had just never expected that you would take it this low, make a mockery of him; america's #1. most beloved supe of his time. he wasn't going to stand for this. he straightens his shoulders, lifts his head and prepares himself to confront you, give you a piece of his unstable mind. until his eyes fall upon you, in a baby-pink scrub dress that clung onto your body and that lace that hugged your waist, like he wishes he could, whilst you chatted with the set crew to make sure the last things were in order. you had planned this to make him feel more comfortable, more at home. you, of course, believed the lies that vought had spoon-fed the public over the years about soldier boy's bravery and heroism. sure, he was the biggest asshole you had ever met, but a national hero nonetheless and you wanted your last movie to reflect that. but this idea had clearly fallen up deaf ears, and eyes, as he stood in front of you, seething. the anger and embarrassment seeping out of every pore. you gently greet him with a soft smile and rest your hand on his bicep, unable to fully read him, misunderstanding his reluctance for reminiscing.

"does it look real? i tried replicate what they had during world war two, i know you served during it." you gaze around the set with an appreciative smile. you could admit that even though you knew you two would never see eye to eye, he had helped your career and you wanted to recognise what you both had done for each other. you were only met with a deep sneer and furrowed brow followed by a short scoff as he brushed off your hand. "i watched some of your movies for inspiration, wanted it to be accurate. even watched red thunder, your newest one. i don't usually like war movies, but i was impressed." you hesitantly admitted as you glanced up at him, waiting for his usual smirk to grace his face, but your expectations fall short. his jaw was tense and his crow's eyes deepened as he squinted and gazed upon the set with disdain.

"hm." not the answer you were expecting.

"is something wrong? it– it can be changed." you warily glance around, not noticing anything out of place. you had studied and researched, wanting to pay homage to soldier boy's career. you had concluded that being on his good side paid off better than being on his warpath, so you made an effort to minimise your snide remarks. even though they slipped off your tongue with ease. "you don't like your surprise?" your voice uncharacteristically falters, getting caught in your throat.

"let's just get this over with, yeah? then i don't gotta see your mug again." sighing, he brushes past you, towards make-up and costume to have his suit polished and hair touched-up. you flinch at his words and waste no time stomping after him, mirroring his sneer.

"what is up your ass this morning, huh? i did this for you! to make you feel comfortable, happy." you reach up and try your best to shove his broad shoulder. he doesn't even give you the satisfaction of reacting before settling in the make-up chair and winking at the artists before they get him ready. you grind your teeth, staring at him in disbelief before turning around, preparing to walk away but his words make you freeze.

"no one fuckin' asked you to, yeah? do me a favour, dollface, and drop the fuckin' act. i see what you're doing, alright? i see it all." he says with such ease, fully believing each of his own words. you whip back around, push aside the make-up artist and look him directly in emerald eyes. he seizes up for a second, enough for you to notice, before he regains his bravado persona and stares back into yours.

"i don't know what kind of messed up coke you snorted this morning, but not everyone is out to get you all the time. i did this as a thanks, to you, you world-class asshole." you hiss as you lean in, your lips inches away from his. his eyes can't help but flicker between and you have to suppress your want to smirk. "so put on your shitty little helmet, read the script, memorise it and deal with it. in..." you glance over at the wall clock. " two hours, we'll never have to see each other again. alright?" you reach for one of the script copies and messily shove it onto his lap before storming away without another word. you had never met a man as complicated as him, as changing and impulsive. as dangerous. but that's not what scared you. what truly scared you was the way your heart clenched at his disappointment.

"hey...! hey!" he called after you but all you could hear was your rapid heartbeat and the hushed giggles of the make-up artists before soldier boy impatiently snaps his finger and they continue getting him ready. he flicked through the script, his eyes dancing over the page but nothing stuck. all he could focus on was the harsh wringing of his hands, the ferocity of which you spoke with, your adamant tone of voice. for once, he could admit, that he might've fucked up.

he sat motionless as the make-up artists dabbed on deep purples and burgundy splotches to imitate a black eye and bruises across his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw. it had been years, decades, since he had seen himself battered. not since his boarding school days. for a second, he saw the young, terrified ben looking back at him in the studio mirror. his wild, wide eyes, his breath ragged and lust for violence ignited. a feeling of guilt spread through him, like a timid wave on a quiet beach, as he got up and slotted on his trusted helmet and nodded to himself in the mirror. he was america's #1 and it was time to fucking act like it.

to your surprise, as you stepped back onto set, after taking some time to curse soldier boy under your breath and stress-smoke a cigarette in peace, you find him sitting on the pink infirmary bed like a docile lamb. his features softened, his full costume on and the script resting in his large hands as his eyes scanned the pages, whilst he muttered and nodded to himself. his fingers ran over his trimmed pornstache, smoothing it over before resting his palm against his stubbled chin, his fingers grazing his cheeks as he continued to read. even though he looked calm, you knew better than to assume and approached him slowly, letting out a small sigh before sitting down next to him on the bed. beneath his worn helmet and bloody makeup, he offered you a soft smile, putting the script aside and resting his herculean hand on your bare thigh. you freeze, not because his touch was unwanted but because it was unexpectedly soft, caring. unlike him.

"the set is really good, feels like i'm almost back there. except for, of course," he laughs before leaning back, laying down and resting his arms behind his head. "the girly bed-sheets and a nurse as fuckin' breath-taking as yerself." there it was, his signature smirk. you couldn't decide if you hated or loved it, so you play indifferent and shake your head at his compliment attempt.

"i'm still mad at you." you glance back at him, a smile toying on your lips. "actually wanted to be nice to you, seeing as it's our last." you click your heels against the floor and look out over at the crew placing the cameras and testing the sound. "you got another stupid porn name ready?" a sigh from you and a chuckle from him.

"who would i be if i didn't, sweetheart?" his voice gruff as he rises up to his full height, reaches over for the patient chart and scribbles a name on top with the pen that follows. the set crew had really thought of it all. he slots it back into place at the end of the bed and gives you a wink. "gotta keep it exciting, eh? the script takes away all the fun." he slides back down next to you and stretches out on the bed, getting himself comfortable for the first scene.

"i've only ever done scripts. so everyone knows what's gonna happen and no sudden surprises." you raise an eyebrow, whilst a loud laugh escapes soldier boy as he throws his head back.

"you certainly haven't fucking complained, no matter what i've done." he states and he's got you stumped. you try to think of a retort, a comeback, but you fall short.

"just... shut up and lay down." you give his knee a light slap, he reaches forward and grabs your hand. a soft, fluttering kiss is placed against your knuckles as his deep, emerald eyes under his thick lashes draw you in. you should've told vought to go fuck themselves when you had the chance, because as your heart pounded like a war drum, you knew it was too late. he called to you, like the merciless sea to a captain and you wanted to drown in his waves.

"ACTION!"

some interns were dressed in era-appropriate nurse uniforms—opal blue dresses, crisp white pinafores, and matching caps—as they bustled around the infirmary, tending to fellow interns costumed as wounded soldiers. the camera slowly zoomed in and panned until it landed on soldier boy. the other interns file away, leaving only soldier boy and you, waiting on the side for your cue. he lies and looks longingly around the tent in his supe-suit and scratched up-helmet, sporting his bruises and groaning in agony. clutching his sides, chest heaving, teeth barred in pain until he hears the familiar clicks of your platform heels across the set, stopping in front of him. the metallic clink of the patient chart, a loud click of the pen and a small sigh from you as you read the name he had messily scribbled earlier.

"corporal punishment?" your eyes catch his and you can see him struggling to keep his face scrunched in pain, a smile fighting its way forward. he coughs to stifle a laugh before nodding and throwing his head back onto the baby-pink pillow with a groan.

"yes ma'am, that's me." he groans louder. "corporal punishment from battalion 69." he weakly raises his hand and salutes before clutching his sides again with a dramatic flair. you slide the patient chart into place and kneel down next to his bed with a sheer lock of concern for the brave soldier. you run a comforting hand across his cheek, cradling it and caressing.

"you're so brave." you gush over him "thank you for your service, corporal punishment. without you, i wouldn't be here to help you and the rest of your battalion."

"no need to thank me, young miss. just doing my duty, like you, for the greatest country on earth." his large hand swallows yours as he holds it against his beating heart.

"now... let me patch you up, corporal. can't have a man as important as you just laying here." you ran your hands over his defined chest as you stand up, feeling his rugged supe-suit under your fingertips, slowly tugging away at it. as each piece was either buttoned down or zipped open, your fingers danced across his flushed skin. his groans of pain become groans of growing arousal, his impatience growing like a tide rushing in. you unwrap your pastel-pink stethoscope, lean over him and rest it on his sculpted pec. you listen intently as his heartbeat quickens, shamelessly ogling your chest in your barely zipped up scrub. with just a simple tug of the zip, your breasts could be his and it took soldier boy everything to restrain himself. he had been thinking about these moments for months, dreaming about it, stroking himself senseless to it.

"your heart rate is rather high... too high." you mutter as you reach over and scan the patient chart. "that hasn't been an issue before, hm." you drop it onto the bedside table and gaze over soldier boy, his deep-green suit a contrast to the pink hues surrounding him. greed against innocence. "i'm going to have to check your temperature, corporal... may i?" your hands rest on either side of his helmet.

"you may do whatever you need, miss. i'm in your, i assume, more than capable hands." he gives you a wink followed by a reassuring nod, feigning flinching and hissing as you expertly unbuckle his helmet and lay it to the side. you draw in a breath and fake stumble as your eyes rest on his fake wounds and bruises. tutting as your fingers barely even graze the cuts and shadowed patches. the deep purples, burgundy reds and blossoming yellows compliment his freckled, rosy cheeks and honey-skin.

"oh, you poor, poor man. what did they do to you?" a quiet sigh escapes you, filled with unspoken sympathy.

"ha!" a loud guffaw followed by a wince and sharp inhale. "you should see the other guy!" you roll your eyes before leaning back in, closer this time, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a thermometer.

"now, be a good soldier and open your mouth." and like a good soldier does, he opens his mouth without complaint and wraps his plush lips around the metal tip. "such a good boy." you purr as he gazes up at you, whilst you read the thermometer and rest your other hand against his forehead, tapping your feet with impatience. "oh dear... it's worse than it looks, corporal punishment. increased heart-rate and high temperature, you're going to need some serious treatment." you tut and shake your head. "luckily for you, you got the best damn nurse in this tent and my patients always leave satisfied."

"yeah, i bet they fucking do, sweetheart." a low murmur and eyes filled with hope. you lean in and ghost your lips over his, teasing. a hushed growl and barred teeth, he was ready to pounce and devour but you were keeping him on a tight leash.

"are you ready for your treatment, corporal punishment?" your eyes roam his face, enjoying having the control for once. but a caged animal, never stays caged for long.

"more than fuckin' ready, sweetheart. gonna finally show me what those fuckin' hands can do, aren't ya?" with each passing second, his chest heaves and hands start to twitch. a white hue passes over his knuckles as he clutches the sheet in a desperate attempt to keep himself contained.

"i know your country needs you, but i need you more, corporal." you purr as your hands scrape down his chest followed by a suppressed growl as your hands finally come down to rest on his ignored bulge, threatening to explode through its confines at any second. you coo as your run your hands over it, squeezing and tugging on his clothed, tortured cock with a devious smile. you take your time undoing on his belt, pulling down his zipper and pushing the pants to the side just enough to reveal his precum-stained underwear and his constrained cock. you hum with appreciation as you drag your nails over the member, feeling it twitch under your touch as he writhes and moans in desperation.

"are all nurses such fuckin' cock-teases?" he groans as he barely lifts his head and meets your teasing smile with an unimpressed grin.

"all soldiers so impatient?" you retort as you lean down and press a chaste kiss to his clothed tip followed by a strong lick, your tongue dragging over his "VOUGHT" boxers with a smile. a hushed "fuck" falls past soldier boy's slick lips, his tongue constantly darting out to wet them as his shallow breathing deepens. your fingers dip beneath his boxers and tug them down to the top of his thighs as you both sigh. you in anticipation and him with relief as his cock is finally freed, silently begging for attention as pre-cum smeared the tip and the veins bulged. he uses one hand to slowly jerk himself off, using the other to switch positions so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, as you kneel next to him, watching his every move with your wide eyes.

"now, help the brave soldier feel better and show me what those hands and lips can do, hm?" he softly pats your head before running his hands carefully through your hair and resting on the nape of your neck, tugging you closer to him with a soft smile as he pushes his tip against your waiting lips. tapping one, two, three times, as if asking for entrance and you stuck out your tongue, inviting him in to the warmth of your mouth. he drags his tip over your tongue, coating your tongue with his essence. a repressed groan travels from deep within soldier boy as your tongue licks a trail over and under his tip before sucking on the blushing-pink end. your hands take over his slow jerking motion as your tongue runs over every divot and fold, eliciting hisses from him as he watches you in awe. his mouth agape and his stare greedy, your lips swollen and breath shallow. you lick and kiss your way from the base to the tip before fully enveloping his bulging member. drool runs down the side of your mouth, coating his cock as you take him deeper. one hand plays with his balls, massaging and tugging on them as the other follows the rhythm of your mouth. "cock-hungry lil' nurse, aren't ya? bet you suck all the soldiers like this, huh?" he mutters as he condescendingly pats your head as your nose rests on his base, his hairs tickling your nose. you come back up and gasp for air, continuing your slow strokes as you stared back at him.

"nuh-uh, only the bravest like you, corporal." you shake your head and speak against his tip before giving him another kitten lick. you push his chest back and down and he immediately gets the message. he reaches up and rests his arms behind his head as he becomes consumed in sensation of you. your talented tongue, soft hands, garbled whimpers. with each stroke of your hand and suckle of your plush lips, he can't help but thank god and release strangled moans. hips bucked and eyes screwed shut; this was paradise, he was sure of it. the sound of a zipper brought him back to reality. he lifts his heavy head and squints before a whispered "fuck, doll...". you had pulled your tits and nestled his saliva-covered cock between them, almost like they were made for one another. you silently watched each other as you pushed your breasts together and effortlessly glided them and down the sides of his cock. a lazy smirk grew as he rested himself on the back of his elbows, enjoying the show you were putting on for him.

you slowed down, you quickened your pace. you knew exactly how to tease and torment, leaving him torn between gratitude and frustration. leaning forward with teeth gritted and impulses taking over, he reaches out and cups your breasts with the care reserved for fine china. your strokes slow as he starts to buck his hips, taking over and giving you a moment to regain your breath. his cock slid between your breasts with ease, his ridges and veins hugged by the warmth of your tits. he pulled and tugged on your nipples as you threw your head back and hissed.

"these tits were made for me, look at them. fuck, lookin' so good wrapped around my cock like this." he wets his thumb and rubs it over your erect bud, you twitch and whine in response. "bet you're doing to get touched, doll. wanna get fucked by a real soldier? a real man? gonna show you how you deserve to get railed, baby." almost cooing, his condescending tone causing shivers down your spin. his hands fall from your chest and cups your jaw, his thumb softly caressing as he guides you to sit next to him. "tell me how badly you wanna get fucked, baby." he whispers against your lips before placing them against his. the kisses slow and languid, words harsh and dominant. you bit his lip, dragging your teeth across his pillowy bottom lip as his eyes fluttered. he rarely gets to feel pain, but he welcomes it with open arms if you're the one causing it.

"i'm dying for it." a high whine. "i've been working so hard and no one takes care of me." hungry kissing, tongues fighting for dominance. "please, corporal. help me, i'm so soaked." soldier boy shoves you onto your back and yanks your legs up onto the bed, pushing up your scrubs.

"no underwear while you're workin'?" he mutters as he lowers himself, eye-level with your glistening cunt; the folds puffy and clit engorged. a low chuckle followed by a loud gasp as he licked up between your folds, his tongue delving in and enjoying the familiarity of your thighs resting against his stubbled cheeks. "filthy fuckin' nurse. dirty bitch." each degradation followed by a swift kiss on your bundle of nerves. a glob of spit lands on your pussy before he feverishly devours you, humming and groaning against your folds. he slaps your pussy in quick successions, dripping more spit down and sliding his fingertips over your tortured clit. your one leg falters and falls off the bed, exposing you more to him and the camera behind him, as he feasts on you. dining on each whimper and plea he can pull from you.

"corpor- please, oh fuck!" one finger pushes past your entrance and a second swiftly follows, curving and hitting your cervix. teetering on the edge, tears build and pleas grow louder. "oh my god, please, i can't, i can't, no–!" you hands tangle in his chestnut locks, trying to pry him away from you, but your strength was no match to his.

"fuckin' take it. c'mon, doll, you can do it. cum for me, on my fuckin' tongue. give it to me, can take it. please." he breathes out against your folds, his tongue circling and fingers thrusting at an inhumane pace. the added and unexpected "please" is what tips you over, his ounce of humanity pulling your building orgasm out of you. "that's it, that's fucking it. such a good fuckin' girl, ain't ya? huh?" he grins, giving you one final, harsh suck on your clit as you cream all over his fingers. but he was nowhere near done, he was a man on a mission. he raises up, pushing your back further into the white metallic barriers of the bed, resting his damp forehead against yours. his slick moustache brushing against your top lip as his fingers sped in and out of you. strangled gasps and "i can't"'s roll off your tongue like a mantra and all you're met with is a gruff "you can do it and you will". his lips, hungry and wild on yours, swallowing your protests as he pulls out his fingers, slaps them against your suffering clit, rubbing his palm over it and stuffing them back in with a grunt.

"c'mon, baby, show me how good i make you feel. show me, please, i know you can." his words and actions a complete dichotomy to one another and you fall victim to his wishes as another wave of pleasure crescendoes and crashes over you. a plethora of "oh my god"'s and "fuck"'s are groaned against soldier boy's lips, which a curled in a devilish smirk as you slowly come down from your high. your drowsy eyes paired with a lazy smile cause him to stifle another laugh, but you quickly recover. pushing soldier boy back, his head hitting the plush, pink pillow with a soft thud as you clamber over him and reach for the nightstand. you shuffle around for a second, pulling out a condom and, with practised hands, rolling it down his stiff member. you hike your scrubs that rested around your waist as you positioned yourself over him and with hands resting on his broad shoulders, you carefully sink down onto him. despite his best efforts, you hissed in pain as you struggled to accommodate his size, which was an issue every time. you took a second to breathe as you reached his hilt, soldier boy comfortingly stroking your cheek before you slowly started to rock your hips.

"got me wonderin' what else they're fuckin' teaching in nursing school." soldier boy mumbles as his hands grip and tug on the supple skin of your hips, expertly guiding your pussy so he's hitting all the right angles. in the midst of it all, it feels like just the two of you, alone in the world, exploring each other. his dark eyes keep you hypnotised, unable to look away as his hips meet yours in a steady pace. for a minute, you're able to forget who he is, what he's done. his, albeit fake, bruises, black eye and cut lip were something you knew you'd never see again, but glimpses of his humanity would slip through and it captured you. intrigued you. it hadn't crossed your mind before, but there was more to soldier boy than met the eye. more than his macho, big-dick-swinging, whiskey-drinking and drug-snorting attitude and it honestly surprised you. maybe he had forgotten it, too.

a light slap to your face pulled you out of it all and you were brought right back to reality. a vice grip around your neck held you tight as he fucked himself up into you, hitting your cervix with a precision that made your eyes roll and body go limp. the only sounds in the room were the smacking of skin against skin and your pornographic moans of pleasure and rapture. you held onto his wrist for support as you carelessly bounced on his cock, his eyes centring in on where your damp bodies met as his hair fell and blocks his favourite view. without warning, he lifts you up and places you on the bed before tucking your knees into your chest and sliding back into your warm cunt with a nod of his head.

"this pussy was definitely made for me, princess. suckin' me in like that, so fuckin' greedy. greedy little whore." he degrades into the open as he pushes himself deeper with each calculated thrust of his hips. no matter how much you deny and shake your head, you know the truth. his hidden and tucked away dog tags dangle in front of your blown-out pupils, a clink following each stroke. a whimper following each depraved comment. "they call me corporal punishment for a motherfuckin' reason, angel. so keep those peepers on me or you're gonna fuckin' find out why." but as soon those words left his mouth, his thumb dangerously circled your clit and your eyelids instinctively fluttered. a slight slap and a small yelp. "thought nurses were all good girls who could take a order, but i was wrong, huh?" he chuckles, pinching at your clit as his other hand held your knees tucked and pushing against your ribcage. half-muttered apologies were not acknowledged as with each pinch and push of your bundled nerves, your eyes clenched shut and your cheeks grew sorer.

"sorry, sor–sorry, corporal, please. i'm so, so c–close." you hiccup, your ribcage aching and pussy throbbing by the sheer weight and size of soldier boy dominating you. he untucks your legs and throws your legs over his shoulder, drilling into you at an immeasurable speed, reaching a depth you didn't know was possible.

"cum for me, doll. cum on this cock. your favourite cock, right?" he slows for a second and moans in pleasure at the sight of the cream ring around his cock. your pleasure undeniable and all-consuming. he moves with an urgency, his own pleasure threatening to burst like a dam. "no one's gonna fuck you like this, baby." and although it was just dirty talk, you both knew the reality of the situation. no one else could and no one else would. nails dug into his biceps and his hips faltered as you reached your highs and soldier boy emptied himself into the condom. his muscles loosened and breath ragged as he pushed down your legs and captured your lips in a heated, deep kiss as he lazily rolled his hips before pulling out and sighing. "i think i'm fixed. whad'dya think, nurse?" he hums.

"you seem to be in great health, corporal." you gasp. "i think you can return to service." you push your hair away from your damp forehead before doing the same to him. "satisfied with your treatment?" you breathlessly laugh.

"more than satisfied. over the fucking moon." a cheeky wink and a soft kiss on your knuckles. you wanted to say more, but the yell of "CUT!" interrupted you and you silently gazed over at soldier boy. as routine, he pulled off the condom, tied it off and chucked it into the bin next to the infirmary bed. you were prepared for him to swagger away like each time before, but instead his calloused hands reached out to pull your pink scrubs down over your thighs, pull the sleeves up and over your shoulders before zipping up the dress.

"oh, thanks."

"no problem." he sighs. "this is really it, huh?" he gazes out over the crew and set as they scramble amongst themselves, their voices filling the previously moan-filled room. "i gotta hand it to ya, you're my favourite co-star." he turns to you with a smile. "don't tell countess i said that, a'right? stays between you and me." his usual stern eyes filled with something you couldn't decipher. you silently nodded as you hugged yourself, unsure of what to say or how to say it.

"you're my favourite, too, soldier boy." you settle on. "i–" you start but he cuts off you.

"how about you start callin' me ben? i think we're there now, don't ya?" he chuckles as you only nod. "i gotta get goin'. got board meetings to snore through." he jokes. a sweet peck on your cheeks had your face heating up and before he could take another step, you reach out, against your better judgement, and grab his wrist.

"if you ever want to just... hang, you can call me." you manage to say, your eyes searching his for a sign of anything, of reciprocation.

"i know, sweetheart. i know." and with that, he leaves, a hidden smirk unfurling across his lips. his mission was successful, he had ruined you for anyone else. just like he had always planned.

a/n: wanted to leave this open-ended. the series is done, for now. who knows if we'll ever meet them again but i want to write some other things for a while, but i never say never. hope u loved this <3 it took me FOREVER. LIKES, FEEDBACK & REBLOGS are appreciated, support your creators. ⭑ millie's masterlist ⭑ -`♡´- tag list: @0ccvltism @adoredawn @angelically-yours @barnes70stark @bejeweledinterludes @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @briiverse @cowboysandcigarettes @daylighted @deansbeer @deanspookiebear @diawinchester217 @emeraldcrs @faiszt @figthoughts @fitxgrld @frank3nfag @h8aaz @insensiblelimerence @jasvtsc @k-slla @kamisobsessed @lanasgirlfr @legalmente-loca @littlesoulshine @lunaleah @mads-ackles @maneaterarabella @marvelgeeka @missus-ackles @mostlymarvelgirl @nperoconelcositoarriba @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @samslovebug @sl33pylilbunny @soldierboysdoll @sugardean @sunnyteume @sunsettsam @supernaturaldoll @tinas111 @titsout4jackles @vmiina (comment or inbox me to be added/taken off)

[bullet-prooflove]

Sucker: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989@cosmic-psychickitty @ilariyalavorowrites @spooky-librarian-ghost

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Bob Dylan - You help Jack to relax after an incident at the hospital leaves him temporarily blind.

Because Of You - Jack realises he's starting to heal in more ways than one after you spend the day taking care of him.

Balance - Jack reveals his feelings for you but they come with complications.

Off Limits - An awkward start to the day leads Jack to make a claim on your affections.

Hawaii - Jack discovers who he really is when you book a trip to Hawaii.

Silk (NSFW) - Jack loves the sight of you in silk.

Running isn’t supposed to be fun.

It’s supposed to a hard relentless pursuit to maintain peak physical fitness.

A way of training your mind and body…

“Come on slow poke, you’re falling behind.” You call over your shoulder with that devil may care grin and Jack huffs out a laugh because that was his mentality before you, before he got to see that firm Lycra clad ass and swishing ponytail.

If that doesn’t change your perspective on running, well he doesn’t know what will. It’s part of the reason he’s been lagging behind the past half mile during the park run, conserving his speed for the finish line. The other part is the prize he has in mind.

“I’m just a poor old man with a prosthetic leg.” He calls out as you hit the final straight. “How do you expect me to keep up?”

“Oh no Jack.” You say slowing your pace, your eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Is it hurting you?”

His baby, she’s so kind and conscientious. She’s also a complete sucker.

He erupts with a burst of speed sailing past you, the word ‘motherfucker’ hanging in the breeze behind him as he laughs to himself, hurtling towards the tree that marks the finish line. His palm slaps against the bark signalling the end of the race and he turns around in time for you to give him the  middle finger as you do the same.

“You. Are. An. Asshole.” You say as you lean over, your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath. “ A trickerish son of a bitch…”

“Faye.” He says softly and you look up to find his face in close proximity to yours.

It takes you a second to realise he’s down on one knee, that he’s holding a ring in his hand. It’s beautiful, silver with a midnight blue sapphire in the centre, a pinprick diamond on either side of it.

“I won the race honey and you know the rules.” He tells you, the left side of his mouth quirking up into that handsome smile. “Whatever I ask you can’t say no.”

“Jack.”  You whisper, your lips brushing over his as he slides the ring onto your finger. “How could I ever say no to you.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[moonlightcycle571]

Billy’s familiar should be Tawny. Captain Marvels familiar should be a raccoon.

I said what I said.

Okay so hear me out. I really like the idea of familiars being animal companions to help channel your magic, and because Captain Marvel and Billy Batson have two vastly different bodies and vastly different magical prowesses, they need vastly different familiars.

For Billy to have Tawny, he gets a protector, someone to help him ease into his champion duties when in small form and guide him for all sorts of matters. And the fluffiest companion known to man cause he deserves it. It simply makes sense.

Marvel should have a raccoon. Just a freaky little shit whose sole purpose is to mess with him. Cap is already an encyclopaedia of magic and is already an established know-how for his champion duties. But sometimes Billy’s workaholic tendencies and Cap’s constant drive to do better / never ending to-do list makes him forget his needs a lot. Thus comes in the Racoon.

It doesn’t have a name, it’s just, the racoon. It’s a little trash goblin who will fight multiple Gods for loose fries in the McDonald’s ball pit. It probably already has (looking at you Hermes/Mercury).

Picture this

*JL, having a meeting*

Billy: *getting himself a cup of coffee to mentally prepare himself to do an extra patrol once the meeting is over*

Racoon: *spawns out of nowhere*

Captain Marvel: *will fight a bitch for his goddam energy booster*

Racoon: *feints attacking him and destroys the coffee pot instead*

Captain Marvel: DAMMIT RICHARD

JL: *confused, concerned, not payed enough for this*

BONUS:

*Later*

Batman, suspicious: So why is he called Richard?

Marvel: Cause he’s a Dick

Nightwing: *crying in the corner*

BONUS 2:

Billy, meeting Damian: and this is Tawny! He’s my familiar 💗🐯💗🐯💗🐯💗🐯💗

Damian: hmph, it seems you have a more respectable familiar than your father

Billy: what 😃

*Meanwhile with Cap*

Marvel: this is my trash goblin, it’s small and will bite. The pronouns are bite/me, and has claimed multiple burning bins as their home

John Constantine, staring straight into the Racoons beady ass eyes: … I really shouldn’t be relating that much

[sarawritestories]

You Are Not a Burden

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: You have been tasked with going to the Spring Court to check in on Tamlin for Rhys. Though You and the High Lord do not get along and this visit leaves you injured and doubting your abilities in Rhys and Feryre's court and in the Inner Circle.

Content Warning: Angst, Aggression, injury, Stubbornness, Self doubt, barely proof read.

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this angsty fic that has some really good fluff at the end.

Exhaustion had been your constant companion in the past weeks. Doing emissary work between Summer and the Day Court had been successful and have been in good company with Tarquin and Helion, who have always loved when you come to visit. Though standing on the dilapidated building of the Spring Court, you wished you could be anywhere else. The territory has been neglected as shown by the dead plants and the Mansion looking like no one has stayed there in centuries in a matter of months. The once rich color of the land had dulled, and the people of this court have suffered just as much as the land.

Rhys had asked you personally to touch base with him as you were already traveling to nearby territories and seeing the exhaustion on his face mostly from taking care of Nyx and not wanting to have Feyre endure going back there you agree. The relief in his eyes made it worth being here though it meant that you would be apart from your mate for weeks as Cassian was at the Illyrian camps handling Devlon and making sure the camps were staying in line. The time apart has left an ache in your heart, but the work has been a great distraction.

Shaking your mind from your thoughts and sending love down the bond that links you to your General. There was a warmth that took over your body as he sent warmth and comfort through the bond. Taking a breath you raise your hand and ready to knock on the door when the door opens, and your eyes meet Emerald ones. “I could hear your heart rate spike. What do you want?”

You straighten your posture, “I was in the area, I wanted to check in.”

Tamlin scowls, “Consider me checked in. You can go run to your High Lord and your Bastard, like the good little Bitch you are.”

He is about to shut the door when you breach your boot against the frame preventing it from shutting, ignoring how his blow hit his mark and gave a knowing smirk placing the mask Rhys has taught you “Look who got his bark back.” You rolled your eyes, “Can I please come in? The sooner we have an adult conversation the sooner I can leave, and you can wallow in whatever pity party you’re hosting for yourself.”

His claws peeked over his knuckles, “Why do you care, you sure as hell didn’t care when you took Feyre from me? You sure as hell did not care when your High Lord let her come in and destroy my territory.”

You cross your arms, “Tamlin, Feyre, wanted to do that on her own, there was no coercing on our end. As for your territory...you were a ticking time bomb. Your people were getting frustrated with your rule. Feyre just sped up the process. Maybe it’s time you stop blaming others for what happened in your court and take some responsibility.”

In a flash Tamlin tackles you to the ground, your head hitting the concrete at the bottom of the stairs, your vision blurred slightly as Tamlin’s claw clamps around your neck and squeezes, “I want you to listen very carefully,” He snarls and you wince, “You don’t get to judge me when its apparent there is no use for you in that vile court you call home. Rhys and Feyre have no use for you other than sending out and parade around in other territories.” He smirked as a tear escape cascading down your cheek, “I’m sure you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” You wince as his blow landed some of your deepest insecurities being confirmed by the person you hate the most. “You are not welcome in my territory and if I catch your scent even in my territory, I will kill you. Leaving your Corpse on your bastard mate’s doorstep.”

He presses his face close to hers causing a whimper, “Get. Out,” he whispered and ripped away from your body the sound of a door slamming solidifying that the High Lord of the spring had slithered back into his tomb. You laid facing the sky the beautiful sight of the sky a stark contrast of what transpired.  For a moment not fully aware of how that escalated quickly, and your hand gravitated to your neck and tears began to pool. You make sure that your bond was locked so your emotions were not flooding to Cassian as he was out checking on his armies.

You stood and the ground began to spin briefly before steadying yourself a sharp pain stung behind your eyes and you touched the back of your head and something wet and warm met your fingertips. You look at your hand and find blood dripping down to your wrist, without a second glance to the manor, you winnowed back to Velaris. You ended up on Madja’s doorstep and you stunned the older Fae healer, “Oh dear, let’s get you checked out” Madja brought you inside and tried to tend to your injuries.

The familiar mental claws scraped your mental shield as Madja had you lay in her cot checking your neck to make sure Tamlin didn’t do any permanent damage as a bruise in the shape of a hand was blooming across your skin. You open your shield enough to let your High Lord come in.

“Home so soon?” Rhy’s voice was a mixture of surprise and concern, “Was your trip constructive?”

You take a steadying breath Tamlin’s words began to bubble up. You tamper it down just enough to keep it from Rhys and replied, “Yes my report, will be on your desk in a few days.”

“I’m glad you’re home, Cassian and Azriel are on their way as we speak so we’re having family dinner tonight at the River House.”

“I’ll be there. I am going to rest it’s been a long journey, and I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Rhys chuckled, “I’m sure Cassian will be more than happy to help tire you out when he sees you. He has already promised to kick my ass for keeping him away from you for this long.”

You smile briefly, and once again Tamlin’s words tried to bubble on the surface causing you stress. Rhys must have picked up on the shift of your feelings, “You sure you’re okay. Tamlin give you a hard time?”

“Rhysand, I’m fine, I’m just tired. I’ll see you at dinner.” You put your shield up before he had a chance to press further on the subject, and let unconsciousness claim you.

~Later That Evening~

You make your way down to the dining room of the River House, your plumb colored gown swishing against your bare feet. The high neckline that has a cut out that compliments your breast is why you chose this. Madja was able to close the wound on your head but the dark purple bruise dawning on your neck was going to have to heal on its own. The sound of laughter flooded your ears and the sound usually brings a smile to your face but this time insecurities run rampant.

They don’t need you.

You don’t belong.

You don’t bring anything to this group. They are better off without you.

You wince at the last one, but you school your features and put on a smile and walk into the dining room. The laughter died out and nerves racked down your body by the silence your lips turning down slightly, “Don’t mind me,” You whisper as you make your way down to the empty chair next to your mate. Your heart stopped at the sight of him as he rose from his seat to approach you. Being out in the mountains in the Fall sunshine his skin had darkened a shade and there was stubble along his face that made your toes curl. He was devastatingly handsome, his hair in a clean bun and his leathers been replaced by a dark button up shirt and dress pants.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Cassian scooped you in his arms and spun you around. Placing you down he steals a kiss from you, “I missed you. I was so happy to hear you were home early.”

His hand grazed down your face and as he neared your neck wiggled out of his grasp and got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek and gave him a small smile, “Me too, General.” You take your seat, and You see Cassian take his, his brows furrowed.  The food appeared and everyone gave approval

Feyre looked at you and gave her smile, “How is Tarquin and Helion, I hope they are doing well and treated you well.”

You are only good at parading to other courts.

You cleared your throat as fiddle with the food on your plate not having a solid “They are fine, warm and loving as always.”

“Rhys and Feyre have no use for you… you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” The image of Tamlin snarling in your face and his hand squeezing your neck.

Rhys stilled his head shot up and his eyes met yours, your eyes widened and slam your mental shields up. Cassian’s head swiveled between his brother and you and guilt washes over you as he realizes that you have him locked out of the bond. “How was the Spring Court?” Rhys asked tension seeping into the room. Cassian’s head whipped to Rhys.

Feyre also stilled, “You sent her to the Spring Court?” she whispered her food forgotten. Mor poured more wine and filled Amren and Azriel’s goblets. Azriel’s shadows almost obscured him from view and Amren leaned against her chair and sipped her goblet.

Cassian’s grip on his fork tightened his knuckles turning white, “I chose to go,” I whispered. I reach my hand to grip Ferye’s across from me, “It was fine. I was banned but that was the only thing that happened,” Feyre didn’t return her smile.

Rhys jaw locked, “Don’t lie.”

Cassian through gritted teeth, “Someone tell me what’s going on right now!”  Rhys made eye contact with the General and his eyes went vacant along with Feyre’s. He was showing both yours and his mates the image that slipped. When the connection was severed you saw that the General had tears in his eyes as rage contorted his features. Feyre had tears streaming down her face.

You rise from your seat tears threatening, “I’m fine. I can handle myself. I’m so sorry that I ruined Family Dinner with this.” You fled and could hear Cassian call out your name as you winnowed to the door of the House of Wind and took the 10,000 steps to the top. You are aloud yourself to fall apart and sobs racked your whole body. Emotions swirling, of the pain on Feyre’s face and the pure rage on Cassian’s, the venomous truth that Tamlin spewed to you and when you reached the top. You moved as quickly as you could despite your thighs burning from the trek up the steps.

You reached the bedroom and were greeted by Hazel eyes, and you sniffled, “Cassian,” You whispered.

The General was leaning against the bed post with his arms and ankles crossed his eyes red rimmed, “Why did you block me out?” His voice was quiet and pained, his knuckles were bloody.

You open the bond and worry is sent down to him, “You’re hurt,” you whisper not looking away from his knuckles.

 He looks down at his hands and his eyes meet yours and they soften at your worry and relief shimmers down that bridge between him and you. “The blood isn’t mine. It’s Rhys’,” He shrugged, and you bit your lip, Cassian sighs and pushes of the post and approaches you and you avert your eyes. “He’s fine, he could have fought me off, he let me get the hits in. He felt guilty.”

“Why?” You ask, taking a step away from the door and approaching him.

Cassian stared at you in disbelief as he brought his arms down, pushing off the post to close the distance between the two of you. “Because he purposely put you in danger sending you to Tamlin’s territory. That the bruise your hiding behind that neckline is his fault.” Your eyes widened, “Rhys had stopped by Madja, and she told him she was worried about you.” You nod briefly, “We’re all worried about you. Especially Rhys and myself.”

You shake your head, “It wasn’t. I went willingly. I may have pushed Tamlin’s buttons, and he got the up on me.” You whisper, “It’s not Rhys’ fault it was mine.”

Cassian cupped your face in his hands, “Rhys was aware that you and Tamlin do not get along. He also knew that you wouldn’t say no whereas anyone else would have. As your High Lord and more importantly your friend, he should not have put you in that situation.”

You wrap your fingers around his hands that are still cupping your face, “Tamlin wasn’t wrong though.” Cassian’s face fell at your admission. Tears trailed down your cheek, “I feel like I don’t have a job that is really helping this court, but I can’t fight like everyone else and sometimes I feel like Rhys and Feyre really don’t know what to do with me.” Cassian wipes her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m even a good enough friend to be part of the Inner Circle. Then what he said about you.” You closed your eyes, “I know you love me. I know you value me as a friend, partner, mate and wife, but I think back to the number of times you have had to reassure me and take care of me. I can’t help but feel like a burden to you and this court.”

“Oh Sweetheart,” His voice cracked as he picked you up and led you to the bathroom where he took a moment to change you out of your gown. His eyes were flaring with anger at the sight of the bruise. He puts on one of your favorite night gowns that is red and black. He guides you to the vanity back in the bedroom and has you sit as he begins to brush your hair. “There has never been a moment since you came into my life where I ever found you as a burden. You have been such a bright light in my life, your smile brightens the room and even on my worst day that same smile always melts my problems away. You have the affect on the team too, your easy and calm demeanor grounds everyone even Amren.” He meets your gaze through the mirror with his smile that always settles your nerves. “Your charm is perfect for dealing with temperamental High Lords which is why Feyre and Rhys have you go out and touch base with them every now and then. They like you and find comfort in your presence.”

He kisses your cheek and turns you so that you’re facing him, “I love you, You have never under any circumstances simply been someone who warms my cock.” You give him a small smile and his eyes light up at the upward tick of your lips. “I love your kindness, and your bravery. Most importantly it’s your willingness to drop anything for anyone, no questions asked. People know they can come to you for a listening ear, a shopping spree. You even know when I just need to hold you after a difficult mission, and you don’t pry but you somehow know what any one of us needs at any given moment. That’s special, Sweetheart, you’re special.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I will happily remind you of that, everyday from now until my heart stops beating that you are NOT a burden.” Another kiss to your lips briefly before he pulls away.

You feel tears flooding out one more time as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck taking in his scent. “I was nervous, that if you sensed my dread and fear down the bond, you would have shown up in the Spring Court. That’s why I blocked you out and I really wish I hadn’t. I thought he was going to kill me he even told me as much.” Cassian stilled at the admission but did not say anything as you continued, “Then when I got here all I could think about was how I couldn’t inconvenience anyone to help. I was cowardly and didn’t want Rhys to think I failed him. Failed you and began and self-doubt is a parasite that is easy to come in and harder to extract. I just didn’t want to bring the mood down of everyone being home for the first time in weeks. ”

Cassian snorted and you could hear him roll his eyes, “He failed you, Sweetheart. But Tamlin will be dealt with. I promise.” You nod and continue to sob into his neck ruining his dress shirt with your tears.  “Also, you are more important to me than any dinner or game night we could have. How you’re feeling takes priority for me that will never change. Just because you're not feeling joy all the time doesn't make you a burden, it's normal to have those bad feelings as it is the good ones.”

Cassian tucks an arm under your knees and behind your back and carries you to the armchair looking out at the balcony. Holding you close as your sobs ebb and flow he strokes your back and presses his head against yours whispering sweet nothings.

A few moments go by when the sobbing turns to soft hiccups, you raise your head from his neck to meet his beautiful honey-colored eyes. “Thank you, for being you, Cassian, you always know what to say.”

He presses a kiss to your hand, “Promise me something, Sweet Girl.” You wait to let him continue, “Promise me that you will not block me out like that again, if you think you will be in a dangerous situation or territory, you keep the bond open so I can help. While we’re at it, tell me things. Don’t try to protect me from your dark feelings, or worries, it’s my job as your mate and your husband to help you through them and work on quieting those loud voices. No different than what you do for me.”

You nod, “I promise.” You kiss him, “I love you.”

He smiles and holds you tighter to him, “I love you too, Sweetheart. Let’s get some rest, we have an early meeting with the High Lord and Lady tomorrow.”

You nod and let him carry you to bed. He quickly removes his clothes, apart from his underwear and crawls into bed next to you, bringing your head to his chest and his wing wrapped around the two of you for extra warmth as your eyes droop close you feel lips on your forehead, “My beautiful, mate.” He whispers as you drift into slumber.

~FIN

[etherealily]

​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇪​ // 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘪 𝘷𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘺

Alexei Vronsky + fem!reader.

My other Vronsky fics. If you have the time.

Warnings : Cuss words.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

'Cross that line for me, sweetheart?'

Desc. : You are not a temptress, but he is tempted.

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

It was curious, to say the least, how land was divided. The conch next to you was half your property and half the Vronsky estate's property. It had remained that way for ages.

The waves lapped up the sand, like a heart reaching desperately for its other half as you sat watching the entire ordeal.

The Line - one drawn up every morning and marked by tiny flags as placeholders - had always pissed you off. Intrigued you. What would happen if you were to... just a finger? The hem of your dress. Would you immediately be shot at by concealed snipers? Perhaps you'd have to be tried in court.

You had never really noticed much about this Vronsky character before. Another handsome, manipulative bastard. Nothing much.

In turn, he'd also never noticed you. A face. One of many. Beautiful, of course, he was not blind, but never seen as worthy of his efforts. You were not rebellious. You were not adorably innocent. He could not entice you. He could not corrupt you.

In theory, your paths were never to cross. Different lives, same circles.

The key word : theory.

Because there are moments in life when you know that nothing will ever be the same again, when you know that your proverbial pathway is forever skewed and rerouted. These may appear to you embossed in calamities such as loss and grief, or these may be whispered in your ear by silent smiles, lovestruck looks across a ballroom, or the simple offer of champagne.

Or, in the case of you and Alexei Vronsky, all of the above.

And this was one of those torturous, life-altering moments.

"-And that's when I said, it was just a bloody goat !"

Booming, drunken laughter ensued from your left - the other side of the Line. Fuck. Keep drawing, shut up, keep drawing, shut up.

Your pencil made unintelligible sounds as it scratched out a somewhat passable depiction of the moonlit waves. The screams and guffaws grew louder, but the issue was that if you moved, he'd assume you did it because you were on his side. You were not, but it would look highly suspicious if you fled.

No. They'd quietened down. Meaning either they left - highly unlikely - or, they'd noticed you.

"Oi!"

Don't respond, don't respond.

"You! Pretty girl!"

Drunk men are terrifying. How could such kind words be said in a way that made your skin crawl?

"Mate, maybe she's a mute. Or deaf. Or both."

"I know for a fact she's not. She's got quite a mouth on her, as I can remember from last year- HEY! LADY WITH THE SKETCHBOOK!"

And that was Alexei Vronsky. His story with the goat had ended, apparently. Ugh.

You turned. "Uh, hello."

"ARE YOU A MUTE?" his companion yelled.

"Are you daft? She just answered! How could she be mute?"

Drunk men are also idiotic.

"WHY DON'T YOU COME ON OVER HERE, WE'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO DRAW?"

Bellowing laughter followed.

For fuck's sake.

"I'm alright, THANKS!"

"OI, C'MON! WE DON'T BITE!"

From what you'd heard, he does.

"IS IT 'CAUSE OF THAT LINE?"

"Good night, Count Vronsky.", you called back, as you gathered up your things and stood, dusting the sand off your dress.

"HOLD ON! WAIT!"

"Let'r go, mate, c'mon, we've got a party to get back to."

"I WAS JUST BEING NEIGHBOURLY, YOU BITCH!"

FUCKING HELL.

"What did you just call me?!", you yelled, turning. He looked back at you in a swaying, inebriated haze, trying to focus those glaciers he called eyes on yours in the darkness.

"A witch. You've cast a spell on me, bewitched me, so to speak. You're magic."

Ugh. "Whatever."

"Just come over here, or I'll have to come there, and you wouldn't like that.", he slurred, his friends chortling and egging him on.

Buggering Christ.

"You can't. See?", you replied defiantly, pointing deliberately at the faint white outline of the line they renewed every morning with chalk powder. "That would be trespassing."

"I'm Alexei Vronsky."

What was that supposed to mean?

"So? It's still trespassing. My family's had it in for you for a long time - we'll take you to court."

"Then you come here.", he shrugged, taking an unstable stumble closer. "Cross that line for me, sweetheart? Yeah?"

"You're a creep. And you're drunk."

"You're a beauty. And you're technically trespassing, so I need to punish you."

"HOW am I-"

"Your pencil." Fuck. How is it he's sober enough to notice that, but not sober enough to know that his buddy said 'the coat storage' not 'the goat story'?

"It blew in the wind."

"Yes. To my estate."

"You can keep it."

"Are you sure? Isn't this your, uh, fabulous pencil from Paris you were talking of?"

"No." Yes.

"No?", he frowned, picking it up. NO! Not in his grimy, disgustingly delicate fingers. "Seems pretty French to me."

"Are you actually inebriated or do you simply enjoy pretending to be so that you can get away with things?"

He stopped swaying, pointing the pencil in your direction as he placed the other hand behind his back. "You're sharp."

"So you're sober?"

Drunk Vronsky could have been molded. Sober Vronsky was a cunt.

"More or less. My friends feel left out because they are unable to hold their liquor as well as I can, so I act for them.", he explained, with a small look behind him, at his comrades trying to jump over the waves as they came.

"You should be in theatre, then."

"Adding performer to my resume is just a smidge too over-accomplished.", he retorted, an amused glint in his eye.

Ugh.

"So you're going to hold on to my pencil, then, I'm guessing."

"What? No, I know how much this means to you."

Trap. You'd bet your entire estate it was a trap.

"I will give it back.", he continued as he paced, his hand still placed behind his back as though he were planning war strategies. "On one condition."

See? Trap.

"Dinner. With me. Tomorrow."

Did he think this was a smart way to secure an evening with a woman?

"I won't be here tomorrow." Bold-faced lie, and he could tell.

"Then tonight. Right now." You couldn't think of anything you were doing.

"And I'll get my pencil back."

"Yes."

"That can't be it. There's a catch."

"You are... remarkable. Yes. There is.", he whispered, softly, as though impressed that you caught on. "Champagne. I wish to see you drunk. Drunk, in denial and... ruined."

Lot of darkness for someone who'd just been talking about a goat.

"In denial?"

"Nothing. Just... join me for dinner and drink a little, and I promise you shall have your pencil back."

"I do not drink."

"Then I do not return fancy French pencils."

"I can always purchase another."

"You do not have sentimentality, then?"

"No." Yes.

"I see. Then you may be on your way."

"I don't have to go anywhere. I have every right to be here! This is still my side of The Line."

"Suit yourself, darling."

The silence that followed was torturous and unbearable. "I do not like steak."

"Then you shall have no steak."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

His eyes focused on you from across the table, his spoon paused midway above his plate. Eyes like the ocean in a storm. Terrifying but alluring.

"Enjoying your not-steak?"

You hid a smile. "Yes, I am."

He nodded, bringing his spoon up to his lips as he watched you do the same.

"You've left your friends out there?"

"They know not to cross The Line. They will be alright."

"Why is it you wanted to have dinner with me? To trap me into trespassing?"

"I've wanted to speak with you since I first saw you." Lie.

"And I you." Lie.

"What was it you wished to say?"

"Simply a greeting. You?"

"The same."

He set down his spoon, scrunching up his napkin as he stood up and walked the short distance across the table to you, resting his hands on the back of your chair. "You promised you'd drink."

"I did?"

"You did.", he whispers, accepting the newly-uncorked bottle the servant handed him, and pouring it into the glass next to your plate, smoothly. "And you're a good girl who keeps promises, yes?"

You'd heard he loved using such degrading language, but this was the first time you'd seen it firsthand.

"What gave you that idea?"

"I just figured you were of proper breeding and were raised right."

Good answer.

"Well, the words 'I promise' never left my mouth."

"Well-bred women do not look for loopholes. And they most certainly do not argue."

Lord knows where he'd worked up the audacity to brush some hair off your shoulder, but perhaps he was born with it imbibed in his blood.

He narrowed his eyes at your unchanging expression. "Drink."

"I am not done with my food."

He breathes out loudly, taking your plate and thrusting it into the hands of the nearest servant. "Yes, you are."

"I still have dessert."

"No, you don't. Drink."

"This is not champagne. You said champagne."

"And you said you'd drink. We both have uttered falsities. Drink."

"I fear you may be trying to-"

"Poison you? I am not. I would not like to see you die."

Was that supposed to be some form of assurance? Romantic? Caring? That did not have the intended effect.

"Drink, lovely."

It irked you how invested he was to see you drunk.

You wrapped your fingers around the glass, bringing it to your lips. Tilting it upwards, you let the liquor cascade down your throat, and echoes of your sputtering filled the room - it burned.

He laughed heartily, shaking his head as he stroked your shoulder from behind you. "Do you know what that was?"

"No. But I do know I will not take another sip."

"It was vodka, my dear, and in a few moments, you will want more. Trust me."

"I'm not taking another sip of that ghastly liquid!"

"Not even for me? Not even if I begged?"

"You think your begging has any effect on me?"

"Doesn't it? I'm known to be quite persuasive, and- besides, aren't you supposed to be the empathetic one in the family?"

"And where did you hear that?"

"Just about everywhere, really.", he huffed, resting his elbow on the table as he knelt down by your side. "'The youngest is the nicest one. She cares the most. Empathetic.' Surely you are not telling me those are lies?"

"Not lies, but exaggerations, perhaps."

"I am quite literally on my knees, and you should realize how rare that is. Drink more or I will have to force you."

You frowned at him.

"I will do it. Force you. Don't think that because I have let you in my house so courteously that I will continue to be a gentleman with you."

"How could you be? You're nothing but a cad.", you scoffed, as you took another stingingly painful gulp.

He watched the glass, your tongue, your throat, almost mesmerized as he replied. "A cad?", he questioned softly, amused but still fascinated by your every movement.

"A cad.", you nodded, trying not to show how much you were gasping for breath. It hurt, satisfyingly.

"That's a first. No one has ever said 'oh, Alexei Vronsky, that cad'.", he murmured against his palm as he observed you meticulously.

"Then they have met a different person."

"You say this out of personal experience, do you?"

"I've met him. The Alexei Vronsky. He only thinks of one thing."

A lilt of his lips. "And that is?"

"Himself."

He concealed a grin.

"Or perhaps...", he mused, fingertips on the back of your neck as though he were playing your skin as one would a piano. "He is one who shows different versions of himself to different people."

"So he is deceitful."

"I'd say careful."

"Would you, now?"

"I think we put up far too many false pretences anyway. No point in fighting it - it is necessary, to be part of society."

"And what false pretences am I putting up, in your expert opinion?"

He smiled, one too pure to match the description you had so harshly delivered a moment before, but you knew more than most that it was a ruse. "Drink more."

"You're an incredibly demanding man, aren't you? Dine with me. Drink more. Not a single please, nor thank you.", you retorted, as though that could take away from the fact that you obeyed.

"When you are incredibly in demand, you learn to be incredibly demanding."

If ever a smoother talker existed, you'd wager he'd simply be Alexei Vronsky in disguise.

"So tell me, then. Are you a gentleman, a cad, or an opportunist, Count Vronsky?"

You had to steer the conversation back to him, because whatever this vilely beguiling liquor was, it was shooting through your veins at a rate too fast to risk talking about yourself, lest any family secrets spilled out.

"I am whatever you want me to be. And you? Are the rumours true? Are you a virgin, a temptress, or a genius?"

"I am whatever I want to be. For tonight."

"Come morning?", he murmured against your neck as he slipped a finger under a loose strand of hair, and twirled it with such dedication you would think that were his only purpose in life.

"A memory."

"Well, we can't have that.", he pouted, as he stood up, gently taking the glass away from you and finishing the last of it. "What does it take for a memory to stay in the present?"

"Vronsky-"

"A dance, perhaps, as they say you enjoy?"

If you weren't unsure of the functionality of your motor skills in your drunken haze, you'd have punched him right then and there.

"The rumours aren't true, you know?"

"What rumours?", he asked, feigning obliviousness.

He'd just spoken of them, but you were quite sure if you reminded him, he'd attribute it to the vodka. Tell you you were 'surely imagining things, dear one'.

"The ones that led you to come and have a go at me."

"Those? Oh, I didn't believe them for a second.", he grinned, his eyes examining the filthiest, most remote parts of your soul - ones that even you had never been privy to.

A moment washed over the both of you, tauntingly. You looked for any secrets in his eyes, and he looked for any in yours, albeit, more calmly than you.

"Come.", he mumbled, finally, offering his hand for you to get up out of his disgustingly well-crafted chair. "Let's get you back on your side of The Line."

══════════════════ ⋆🍷⋆ ══════════════════

"There. Oh, and here. I am of proper manners.", he added after you'd leapt over The Line, handing your pencil back over to you.

It felt oddly anticlimactic after the events of the evening.

His icy blue eyes - striking, so striking that they pierced you - fell onto your lips for just a moment before landing on the pencil in your hand. "You don't want it back."

"What? Of course I do."

He had you. He was onto you.

"Let me rephrase. You don't need it back."

"Sentimentality. Of course I do."

"You really don't want it to stay in my possession, instead?"

"No."

"Liar.", he smirked, his lips curving deliciously, and you just about lost it. "You know I'll take very good care of it, no? Like I took care of you, tonight. No complaints, yes?"

"Besides the aggressive persuasion to drink a fiery liquid that most probably burnt my throat off, no."

"You exaggerate. Tell me tonight was just another of your dull nights. Tell me I haven't been a source of reprieve from your tedious, mundane days of fakeness and gossip."

You scoffed, refusing to dignify that with a reply, although you already knew that any response- or lack thereof - would be all too telling.

"You cannot, can you?"

There was nothing you hated more than when men were right.

Especially men who were as captivating as Vronsky. It was unnecessary and dangerous.

He beamed, clearly so fucking proud of himself, as he looked out at the waves. "It is a lovely dress you are wearing."

No, it wasn't. It was the most commonplace of dresses one could wear. But he'd say it anyway. Because that was his play.

"Thank you."

"It is disgusting, though."

"In what way? A disgusting display of my wealth, or disgustingly lovely?"

He knelt down next to you from the other side, on the sand. "It is disgusting that such beauty and purity like yours can exist and people continue to slander its name."

Had you been a lesser woman, you'd have fallen for it.

It seemed, however, that he knew you wouldn't. It was confusing, to say the least, whether he was being genuine or being genuinely fake.

"It is how I live."

If you'd read him right, he should say something along the lines of...

"It shouldn't be."

There.

"However... the dress in itself is not disgusting?"

"No, it is spectacular- although, I must say, the woman wearing it is far more ravishing."

Games get boring when they are predictable.

"So. What is it you normally do after parties, since you cannot get drunk? Unless blackmailing women to dine with you and drink your vodka is your usual pastime."

He snickered, although a slight maliciousness infiltrated his gaze for a moment. "It isn't so much a pastime as... an unfortunately common occurence. Perhaps that's why you've got an opinion of me as a - how'd you put it?"

"A cad."

"Ah, yes, a cad. I wonder if your opinion has changed."

That was not hope in his eyes, no. That was a challenge. 'Go ahead, say no. If you dare.', his look said.

"I wonder that, too. Perhaps it will if you keep your promise."

"Promise?", he repeated, raising a brow. He knew. He knew all too well what you were saying.

"False pretences.", you reminded, watching him as he watched the waves distort the light of the moon. "You said you would tell me what false pretences you think I put up."

He was far too close. The incredibly fragile, entirely imaginary Line wouldn't be able to stop him from reaching over and touching your shoulder once more.

"I think... do you want to know what I think?"

"I might."

"I think that you're lying when you brush off the rumours."

"You think I am a slut? A temptress?" Now, suddenly, the monotonous nature of everyday seemed far more interesting than the thousandth iteration of the same conversation.

"No, I think you brushing them off is the lie. They affect you far too much." Alright. That was... progress.

"Do they, now?"

"Very much. And there is one more, as well, although I doubt you will like to hear it. You crave to prove them right."

Congratulations, Alexei Vronsky, you've caught my attention.

"That is an extremely, extremely bold suggestion."

"Yet you are not denying it."

"I do not wish to have my virtue questioned, Vronsky, and us having dinner does not change that."

"But it pokes at it, does it not? A slight scratch, an itch, asking if that is what you really want. It blurred the lines, did it not?"

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

"You're an incredibly delusional man, Count Vronsky."

"A delusional cad."

"Precisely."

You didn't miss the amusement in his tone, the laughter, the way he knew how perfectly right he was.

"Well, this delusional cad did not lie, earlier. You truly have bewitched me, my dear, and I do not think I shall ever turn you down."

He stood up, dusting the sand off his gloves and pants. You stood up too, not out of respect, but out of the desire to relish his face once more.

"Turn me down?"

"When you inevitably ask for me when your marriage is dry, lifeless and torturous."

Good lord. How long had he been- how far ahead was he thinking?

"I will be right here. On this side."

"Why are you so adamant that my marriage will be-"

"Because I'm the one you need. You've broken quite literally every rule tonight. Crossed the line, fraternized with the enemy, drank unfamiliar alcohol that could so easily have been poisoned or used against you."

"How does that make you the one I-"

"I'm taking you out of your comfort zone. Freeing you. What more would one want from a lover?"

So casual with that word. Lover. As though that was all you two had been, since the beginning.

"Have I mentioned that you're-"

"Delusional? Yes, you have. But you have also yet to mean it."

Who the hell allowed this man to be so confident?

His thumb rubbed against your cheek in pure tenderness that you are well-prepared for - you've learnt over the years he's unpredictable, and since his mercurial nature was the only predictable thing about him, it was easy for you to guess his next move.

Or at least, figure out that it would be the exact opposite of the tone of his words.

"I can help you, you see?", he said, words so faint they were almost whisked away in the sea breeze. "Honest."

"Was that the point of tonight?"

"No, the point of tonight was to get you so utterly inebriated that you would tell me your family's secrets, and hence, your own."

That was the only thing that had come out of his mouth all night that you could guarantee was the truth.

"And since that did not happen, you are doing this?"

"No, I couldn't let that happen. Unwrapping you, figuring you out, it is far too intriguing a task to complete with a glass of vodka and enticing words. I want to spend years, decades, the rest of my life, performing this task, revealing you slowly and addictively, until I have lost myself or driven myself crazy trying to reach the core of your soul."

The silence kissed you two over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. "You are terrifyingly good at this."

He almost looked like he was about to say 'at what', but it seemed his mood had turned too serious to coax a half-hearted insult out of you.

"And you are terrifying. You are like the eye of a storm, intricately, almost... sinisterly drawing me closer."

"I'm not sure what you want me to-"

His lips devoured your words, and you could not help but think that this night had progressed far too rapidly to your liking. He was a stranger, a random man who you shared nothing but a flimsy little line with, but here you were, letting him kiss you, letting him ruin you, letting him convince you with his words that this was a good idea.

"Come on, darling.", he murmured against your lips, his eyes still half-lidded in a triumphant haze. "Cross the line. I promise, I'll take care of you."

You surrendered, and all you could do was hope that his beauty was simply angelic in nature, and was not designed for the sole purpose of ruining you and every iota of self-respect you had.

Hard to tell, but perhaps he had meant it that way.

[shadowystan]

YANDERE! sugar daddy x f!reader — his lover ♡ (or lack thereof)

YANDERE! sugar daddy who's pathetic and naive enough to not realise just how manipulative his perfect, little darling is.

YANDERE! sugar daddy who's pretty much on his knees when you start crying those crocodile tears. Don't you worry, love, he's right here! You're failing that one class? He could always bribe the professor! Or simply threaten him. It's your choice, really.

Pretty girl, you're the boss here.

YANDERE! sugar daddy who lets you choose which car you want to ride in each day, every day.

YANDERE! sugar daddy who lets you sit on his lap as you pepper his face with kisses hopefully asking for a new pet.

(You hate having only him as a companion.)

YANDERE! sugar daddy, who's not only weak to your tears but your smile too. Curl your lips just right while wearing that shiny pink lip gloss and he's buying you a new Birkin without you asking.

And the day you actually do ask for something.. 

YANDERE! sugar daddy, who has the dopiest, most lovesick smile on his face when you drag him by the hand in the mall and make quick little turns here and there because you're just so excited. Aren't you just adorable?

YANDERE! sugar daddy who practically has hearts in his eyes as you try another dress. He's cooing; cheering you on with small compliments like, "beautiful!", "gorgeous!".

Act all shy. Like you actually care about draining his money after you've shopped for an hour or two.

He'd be charmed! He likes it when you're assertive with your wishes, he does. But what man doesn't just love a sweet, kind girl who worries about his pocket? 

I mean you don't. But you can surely act like it, right?

Because after mumbling words of assurances like, "Don't you worry about the money, pretty." YANDERE! sugar daddy would be guiding you towards another posh clothing brand. And then another. And another-

YANDERE! sugar daddy who'd be damned to let you carry a single shopping bag. He's strong and still young. (Or is he?)

YANDERE! sugar daddy who has you move to his penthouse. You don't mind. Maids and the occasional Michelin Star chefs litter his house. You don't have to move a finger. Just sit pretty in your cute little sundress and wait for him to come home. All you have to do is flip through magazines! Dream life, right?

YANDERE! sugar daddy who somewhere along the way, forcefully blurs the line between a sponsor and a lover and becomes your boyfriend.

Or. Well. YANDERE! boyfriend.

YANDERE! boyfriend who shushes your cries with featherlight kisses. You don't want to date him. Why doesn't he understand?

YANDERE! boyfriend who tries bribing you with jewellery, clothes and what not. Your perfect girl persona slips but he doesn't seem to notice-

YANDERE! boyfriend who simply frowns when you call him delusional and try to leave the house. YANDERE! boyfriend who gently pushes your suitcases away and pats your head when you try to step away from his large form. YANDERE! boyfriend who smiles softly and speaks as if he's talking to a child when you throw another temper tantrum. He's blocking the door-

YANDERE! boyfriend who simply tilts his head when you turn into a complete bitch. The facade breaks and you can't be bothered enough to glue it right back.

YANDERE! boyfriend who considers baby trapping you when you outright refuse to plan the wedding.

(He's not good with decorations. He needs you for that.)

[sugudoe]

➥ ──── MOMMY MILKERS ‼️ BITCH. ღ

gojo satoru is the greatest mind behind MIB, also know as MU IOTA BETA, although is a inside joke the name Mommy mIlkers Bitch, because he thinks there is a large amount of members with huge breasts. Satoru is filthy rich and spoiled, he was a rainbow baby and an only child for some time, everything he wants he can have. his parents only asked him to go to college for business administration, so one day, gojo’s enterprise can be in his good hands. he doesn’t mind, had no plan of life instead of just enjoying it, but he hopes he can still have a lot of vacations all around the world. that’s actually his favorite thing to do, just get up from the bed and travel. gojo and the MIB were pretty popular on campus, but what took their social medias sky rocketing was the brilliant idea to create a tik tok account for their fraternity, showing their parties and random funny moments. of course, what everyone really wants to see, is their fucking beauty. he is the older adoptive brother of megumi, who is too young for fraternities, but gojo thinks he can bend the rules if megumi wants to get inside (gojo can’t & he doesn’t).

geto suguru is studying graphic designer by his choice, although his parents disagree, they can’t say no to him — after all, they are scared for their son and want him to be happy. truth is, geto and gojo had been best friends since high school, and it’s no secret that suguru tries to hide about his long battle with depression. things are getting better as of lately, specially now that his two younger sisters, mimiko and nanako, are allowed to have a cellphone and had been calling him daily. geto can be found in three different places, besides the MIB’s house — the art room of college, choso’s tattoo parlor and in the garage with sukuna, although for only a few minutes before he himself leave with his bike, that he calls his love. he is the vice-president, and helped gojo with the ideas to create the house, he also is the reason why nanami got inside because suguru knew they would need someone that knows how to be an adult, he got surprised with nanami’s true personality later, but hey, he is doing a good job, no complains. his favorite companions outside of the members are the pets and shoko, he adores her very much, she is also a best friend from high school that cared for him in his most vulnerable depressive episodes.

zen’in toji comes from the respected family zen’in, but unlike his relatives, toji does not give a fuck about reputations and traditions. that has casted him aside, something he is no longer sad about, he actually loves that he can do as he pleases. he study physical education, has always had a talent for fights and training, and likes the idea to be able to teach others some day. his first students was his two little cousins, maki and mai. he used to work as a partial time private trainer, but after tik tok found out, it was getting too uncomfortable with those new clients, so he started to train his friend sukuna and his little brother, yuji, the payment is extraordinary. he has a pitbull puppy named kitana and she is one of the pets at the house, and his pride and joy. he got inside MIB because gojo wanted to have him, toji refused at first, until satoru showed him the private gym of the house and toji was sold right away. he gets weirdly along with megumi whenever the boy comes visit, they bond over their dogs and strangely looking resemblance.

nanami kento is not the MIB’s president, but he stills acts like it, and gojo is more than happy to let him have that unofficial position. gojo makes the parties and pick the box with candidates names, nanami takes care of the expenses and pick the best to get into, to avoid fame seekers and people with bad reputation — some thinks he started that after gojo put sukuna inside the house. nanami takes care of the formal parts, that’s mostly influenced by his finance majoring, he spends most of time inside his room studying or bakery hopping to experiment new pastries. don’t let this take you away from the truth, this man is not a calm, educated and study inclined person, he is half-french and therefore gojo has to be careful, or nanami will start a revolution and put satoru out of the house. he easily gets distracted by his interests and his anger, and since MIB becoming a hit on the internet, he is extremely mad. nanami cares a lot about his private life, he blocked gojo on twitter after satoru quoted kento’s account and he gained a lot of weird followers — he blocked most and went private. nanami is very found of ino, and as the initiation process of complying to the older members’s request, he had to shave his head (suguru demanded as a revenge for cutting his waist long hair to his shoulder) ino was quite sad, but did it, nanami did as well to support the youngest. surprising everyone, because nanami loves his long blonde hair as well. everyone was touched, so gojo cut his as well, kinji dyed on ino’s choosing color (purple) and even sukuna did as well, but red — all was done by kinji’s partner, kirara.

kamo choso is the middle brother of sukuna and itadori, through their shared mother. he is studying computer science, but everyone knows he is doing just to get the degree, give to his mom and go do his own thing — tattoos! ever since high school, he started to work in tattoo shops as receptionists, then he started a course and now he owns his own mini parlor near campus, named garu’s tattoo, because he is often compared with the character (it has absolutely nothing do to with the fact he used to let his younger brother do his hair the same way, everyday for high school). choso doesn’t trust anyone but himself to make his own tattoos, but he folds easily when yuji asks to try, so he has a mini spider-man doing peace signs on his calf. it’s his favorite tattoo. he got into MIB because he started to be friends with his favorite client, geto, and suguru invited him. choso’s mom separated sukuna’s father and got with choso’s dad, then she left and met itadori jin, he accepted all her sons as his, and choso secretly hopes one day jin will adopt him. he likes that MIB went viral because now he has more clients, what he doesn’t like is how everyone views him as a bad boy, when he is clearly a sweetheart.

shiu kong is a transfer student from south korea, and just like nanami, he is majoring in finance, following his dad’s and grandad’s steps. his family is very rich and stoic, but shiu came to the world in a completely different way. he likes to crack jokes, smoke a cigarette every hour, and to make his family hair get white earlier. the last post he has on instagram is a video of him doing hearts, but purposely he posted because it looked like a middle finger. shiu is best friends with everyone, but mostly sukuna and toji, and outside of it he’s friends with shoko and uraume. he thinks it was bound to happen to be a hit on the internet, because of his funny and chaotic way! his twitter is where he shows his true self, actually, the header is his own picture from the day after fucking a neighbor before moving out of the apartment to MIB’s house. it’s been a month and a half and he’s feeling the effects of not getting laid in some time, not because he doesn’t have options, gojo says he wants someone to match his freak while doing a dance — he slapped gojo after that. the reason for he to be in MIB is because he thought it would be funny to piss off his dad, it worked.

hiromi higuruma is the most normal person in the house, which is something to worry about. his free time used to be spend traveling to rural areas of japan, now he stays in the sofa with achilles, his cat. he used his money to make a game room in the house with lots of pool tables and videogame consoles. he likes to bet with everyone, and he keeps winning. talking about that, everyone avoids to argue with him, at first he cared too much and would own all the discussions, specially when he would bring out the projector and show evidence of how he was right — don’t fucking argue with a lawyer. nowadays he is much chill, that’s obviously because he is in exam season and keeps inside the house or library, he left the group chat to focus on his projects and the court hearings he now attends. nanami is the one to send him all the messages he needs to see and to lend his phone in case hiro wants to add something to the chat. hiro was obliged to be part of MIB by his best friend, nanami. oh, the classmate in his twitter’s bio is utahime iori, she doesn’t now his twitter and he doesn’t know hers.

ino takuma is a lucky motherfucker. he is the youngest at the house and the newest member, out of many candidates, nanami chose him, and for that he is eternally grateful for his senior. majoring in history and having a talent for photography, ino likes to be outside all of the time, he takes pictures of every bright thing that seems to copy his happy aura, everyone finds him adorable. nanami tried really hard to keep him away from gojo, but it happened eventually, satoru is the one that matches his freak and they both kept adding fire to the other crazy ideas. they are the ones doing weird challenges and pranks on the tik tok account, and nanami keeps grounding them for it. besides hiro, achilles adores ino and is often on his lap. takuma introduced the movie “house bunny” to the boys once and now gojo wants to have the “sacrifice a virgin” party, after he found out ino is a virgin. he is embarrassed, but still thinks i’ll be awesome to slide down a fake volcano and kiss a pretty girl. . . maybe more.

ryomen sukuna is. . . something. everyone knows that one of the reasons MIB’s tik tok became a hit is thanks to his quick appearance, after all he was already know on social media before, ryomen is a professional boxer, as a way to let his anger issues dissipate and avoid hurting his brothers or friends, he punches sand bags with toji and later, willingly strangers. he is know as “one punch man” because one time he was seriously pissed with his dad, went to the ring and with just one punch, won the fight — he hated it, he needed more punches throw. ryomen is majoring in forensic science, when asked why he says is because he wants to know how to get away with a murder properly, of course he is joking but the stoic face sure scares everyone. adding to his curriculum, he also likes to repair cars, MIB’s garage is filled with everyone’s cars and there is space for sukuna’s three vintage babies, he always finds some problem in them whenever he needs to clear his mind. sukuna’s best friends are uraume, shoko and shiu, because they all don’t give a fuck about his anger issues and treat him normally. he is adored by kinji’s partner, kirara, and he actually adores them as well, but he avoids them because he can’t say no to kira, and they try to make ryomen a model. sukuna is, with choso, the target of people with the “i can change him” mentality, he adores it because it’s fucking funny the desperation. he would rather eat glass than admit, but he’s only in MIB because choso was scared to go alone, and he wants for yuji to come as well when he gets of age, he thinks his younger brother will like it. he is a good brother, he just doesn’t say much, good thing choso and yuji understand him and love him either way.

kinji hakari is the only member who is in a serious relationship, if anything, he is the only one getting any action. he never had any plans of being in college, only following his partner and luckily discovering a talent in fashion school, that was what got gojo satoru’s attention, and he begged for hakari to be part of the MIB. he almost declined, but thought it would be cool, and with his baby’s permission, he accepted. kinji brings more chaos to MIB, he likes to be the cause of his friends headache in the group chat, and also to get blackout drunk in the parties and make out with kirara on every surface. he got a lot of attention on his social media as well, but he does not give a fuck, because he thinks everyone is trying to get into his pants and he is a loyal dog man, so he says no no interactions with anyone besides his friends and love.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: all the appearances, are just for reference, there is no fancast just pics with the characters vibes. you can imagine them as you please. but i did edited sukuna’s hair so applause. i know nanami is half danish, but i want the revolutionary gene of france on him. TOJI’s AND GOJO’s ig has miD instead of miB, pretend you didn’t see it, pls.

✶ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: please comment if you would like to be tagged. all the chapters will be linked in this post and with the first tag @minzxec @d3jecteddoll @shuuji71 @emilyywhyy @ducky1232 @mfcherry

[tsaritza-mika]

Sorry not Sorry guys...

I respect all your inter-companion romance ships, and I hope they bring you joy and endless inspiration, but I have a primal need for something different. I don't need my companions dating each other.

I need them to be the most dysfunctional yet supportive found family they can be

I need Karlach to be literal 'Mama K' and grab Shadowheart and Lae'zel by the scruff and put them on coat hangers, telling them that if they can't say anything nice, then shut the fuck up for five minutes and if they can do that, then she'll come and let them down

I need Astarion and Gale to get into such a spat that all dignity and posh goes out the fucking window, and they devolve into two grown-ass men having a 13-year-old style slap fight while calling each other the harshest of obscenities, but if anyone from the outside tries calling either of them less than fabulous, they join forces and fuck them up

I need Wyll, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel to do each other's hair while discussing all the ways they've taken down various opponents and monsters, and how they would have done things better

I need Jaheira just smacking everyone upside the head whenever they say or do something stupid. Because gods dammit why is she always the only one who can see trouble from a hundred miles away, only to have her perception check fail and stumble right into a trap Halsin had set up to catch food for dinner

I need Astarion to embroider offensive cross stitch into every other companion's tents when he's left behind at camp, for no other reason than he's feeling salty that day

I need Halsin to wildshape into a bear just so he can surprise Karlach with an actual bear and Clive having a tea party with flower crowns and drawings of the horrible ways Gortash will be killed

I need Shadowheart being a petty bitch and letting anyone who was being especially stupid in a fight get a little too close to death as punishment before finally healing them. Because that's just what healers do

I need Gale pranking people with his spells. Use mage hand to yank the rug out from under Lae'zel after she insisted that he was too squishy to fight properly. Casting 'create water' over Shadowheart to ruin her makeup in retaliation for saying last night's stew was a bit bland. Use Telekinesis to fling Astarion off in some random direction because dammit Gale just woke up, and the man needs his coffee before he can properly deal with all of that first thing in the damn morning

I need Lae'zel to take pillow fights just a little too seriously

I need Wyll begging Halsin and Jaheira if they can wildshape into a bear and a shark just so he can ride both of them through the Chionthar while recklessly casting Fireball and Lightning Bolt at the sky, because just think of how cool he would look doing it

[barefoot-joker]

Snake in the Garden Pt 5~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys! Welcome back to Snake in the Garden! I do apologize for my long absence. College has started back up; my depression has been kicking my butt and writing block for this chapter were just a few reasons for the delay. However, I'm back with a bang! I highly recommend reading the warnings on this chapter as it does get a bit intense. Oh, and from the bottom of my heart: thank you all so much for supporting this fanfiction! I cherish every like, reblog and read every comment posted on each chapter. I plan to have multiple parts after this one, so I hope you stay. Also, the taglist is open, so if you'd like to be added don't hesitate to comment! As always, have a great day/night and enjoy part five!

Words: 9626

Warnings: Swearing (more than usual), Non-Con Touching, Non-Con Kissing, Non-Con Sexual Advances/Harassment, Reader is forced to wear skimpy clothes, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Body Horror, Lots of Blood, Various Characters gain Trauma from Lucifer, Lucifer goes into Beast Mode, Lucifer's Obsession goes off the rails, Possessive treatment to Reader, Talk of hanging by snake, Kidnapping, Talk of watching someone die, Major Yandere Behavior from Lucifer, Reader gets Pushed Around, Reader gets put in a Cell, Degrading Name Calling-mainly to Reader, Talk of Cannibalism, Reference to Disturbing use of Body Parts, Talk of Sexual Actions, Talk of Drinking Blood, Reader Suffers Abundantly in this Chapter, Seriously who gave Lucifer a Sword

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I gasped and my eyes widened as I stared at the two beings in my living room. The one who spoke was a larger man. He appeared to have a dad bod underneath his white, purple and gold robe. The black mask he wore had two large horns attached and his golden facial features held a smug look. Behind him stood a female. She too wore a black mask, her horns curled inwards. She appeared to be wearing a black tunic with black skin tight pants and light gray thigh high boots to match. The crude white stitched mouth scowled at me, almost acting like I was wasting her time. I gulped, both sets of eyes watching me like a hawk. “W-who are you? What do you want?”

The masked man set down his bag of Doritos (which I realized were from my cupboard) and offered a hand. “The name’s Adam, sweetheart. I’m the First Man.”

I looked down at his hand and then back at him. He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “If you’re the First Man, does that mean that Lucifer sent you to come get me?”

I stepped back in fear as he cackled, holding his stomach. “Heavens no! I hate that son of a bitch!”

I lowered my guard a bit. “If you’re not with him, why are you here?”

Adam stopped laughing and brushed his robe. “I’ve come to take you to Heaven with me.”

“But I have no business there. I’m not even dead!”

“I can grant you permission. Let’s say it's one of the perks of being a celebrity.”

He pointed his fingers at me as if they were guns and he clicked his tongue. I looked between him and his companion. She tilted her head towards her master as if to say take his hand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on! Lucifer can’t touch you while you’re on Holy ground. And I have a funny feeling he’d like to get his claws on you, if you know what I’m saying.”

I cringed in disgust at what he was implying. “Besides, I can be your bodyguard! I have special privileges being famous after all. And my wingspan is bigger than Lucifers!”

I looked down at my engagement ring. The snake seemed to coil tight around my finger as the eye glimmered, daring me to trust in the Heavenly man’s words. I bit my lip and looked up at him, his female companion now by his side. The sword at her side glinted and I could picture it ramming into my fiance. I could see the light leave his eyes and blood spill down his snow white skin. The betrayal would show on his face as it had mine when he took me to Hell. I felt my lips twitch into a smile as I realized that maybe, just maybe, these two were my allies. My eyes met Adam’s and I gave a quick nod. “I’ll go with you.”

His smile curled up by his eyes. “Good choice, babe. Lute prepare the portal.”

“Yes, sir.”

The woman stepped forward and raised her sword to the sky. She began to draw a symbol that looked like a cross and chanted under her breath. “In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, let these three souls enter Heaven freely.”

As soon as she finished, gold mist began to circle the ceiling. It began to sprinkle down around us, causing me to sneeze. “Bless you.”

“Thanks.”

I looked up and was amazed to see a bright blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Sunlight streamed down and it felt warm on my skin. “It’s ready, sir.”

“C’mon, babe! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

“Wait!”

I brought my fingers around my ring and forced it off. Relief flooded my body as I set it on the coffee table and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was finally free. “I’m ready now.”

I let out a squeak as he hoisted me up by my waist, his hand traveling a bit low to my butt. I didn’t have much time to think about it because his golden wings opened up and pushed us upwards. The wind from the angel’s wings swept my hair and I couldn’t help but let out a gasp. Even on a bright sunny day on Earth that sky couldn’t compare to Heaven’s. The blue of the sky was a bright baby blue and the clouds were the purest of white. I reached out a hand and laughed at how light the cloud felt passing through my fingers. “Beautiful isn’t it,” Adam questioned.

“It’s better than I could have ever imagined!”

“This isn’t even the best part.”

I focused my gaze ahead of us and my eyes widened. I could see a patch of clouds with bright pastel colored buildings, almost too bright to stare at. We landed on said patch and the mist surrounding the area brushed away, bowing to the First Man. Adam set me down and I was hesitant to place my full weight down. The cloud itself was soft and yet I didn’t fall through. Casting my eyes up, I saw a golden fence stretching a long distance that I couldn’t even begin to see the end of. In the middle was a set of golden doors creating a gate, pearls and diamonds adorning the bars. I gasped as I realized these were the Pearly Gates that people claimed to see as they passed on. As soon as it clicked, a short, blonde haired man with lightly saturated clothes and white wings appeared behind a podium. He flashed a smile with his pearly whites and beckoned us over. “Hiya! Welcome to Heaven! Can I get your name please?”

“Oh, um, Y/n L/n.”

He flipped to the appropriate page in his large book and when he found it he used his index finger to skim through all the names. He muttered under his breath as he searched, his eyebrows wrinkling after a few seconds. “Um, I’m not seeing you on my list. Perhaps you’re in the wrong place-”

“She’s with me, pretty boy.”

Adam crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. “I told you not to call me that. It’s Saint Peter. Besides, she has to be on my list if she’s passed on. She’s dead, right?”

“No, but-”

“Adam, you can’t just bring living people here! It’s against the rules! Oh my goodness, what if He finds out-”

“He won’t! Now let us in, jackass!”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that. I will not get in trouble again for your shenanigans!”

“You listen here-”

“What is going on here?”

All of us looked up to see two females flying down towards us. The one on the left was much taller than the one on the right. Both had gray dresses with purple and white accents. They landed in front of us and I could see them clearly. The one on the left appeared to be an adult woman with dark grayish brown skin. She had gray scaleras with white irises, long winged eyelashes and white freckles below her eyes. Her gray hair was long and was twisted into thick curls. A glowing white crown with blue jewels floated above her head as her black lips set in a frown. The one on the right looked like a child, her skin a lighter grayish brown tone. She too had white freckles under her blue eyes, the irises being an ombre of purple. Her light purple hair reached the hem of her dress and her black lips formed a pout. Both of their six white wings relaxed at their sides. “Sera, tell this dickhead to let us in! He has no right to keep us out here!”

“Sera, he brought in a human! One that has not yet passed on!”

The taller woman, Sera I assumed, raised her hand. “Enough. Let the girl speak on her own terms.”

Everyone turned their gaze towards me and I could feel my stomach twist in knots. My fingers fiddled with the fabric of my nightgown and I found my eyes were more interested in my bare feet. “Um, I’m Y-Y/n. I lived on Earth but Lucifer kidnapped me. He wants me to be his bride.”

I glanced back up at Sera and a shocked expression graced her features. In a second she flipped back to a more relaxed face, her black lips smiling at me. “My child, you have had quite the journey. Come.”

She moved to the side and gestured her hand towards the gate. I looked at Adam and he pushed me forward. “But, Sera-”

“It’s alright, Saint Peter. This is the one exception I will make.”

“Alright.”

He waved his hand and the gate opened, sunlight streaming through. I took a few hesitant steps forward and the four angels followed behind me. The buildings that I saw before glowed in the sunlight and the golden paved road appeared like marble. The two females stepped in front of me, calm smiles on their faces. “How rude of us to not introduce ourselves. I am Sera, the high Seraphim.” 

She bowed her head as the child-like angel giggled. She bounced in front of me and was quick to take my hand, shaking it ferociously. “I’m Emily, the other Seraphim! But you can call me Emmy, Em, E, whatever. Welcome to Heaven!”

I smiled and pulled my hand away from her light grip. “Thank you. It feels so surreal being here honestly. I didn’t picture Heaven to look like this.”

“We are quite the close knit community. Everyone is friendly, polite and the nicest of the nice. We pride ourselves on being the best and most innocent of creatures,” Sera said. 

“Oh you’re going to like it here, Y/n! We’ve got the most delicious food you’ll ever taste and the beds are like you’re sleeping on a cloud, they’re so soft! You can indulge in any hobby you like and we even have ice cream with rainbow sprinkles!”

I chuckled at Emily’s enthusiasm. “Sounds like fun. Where might I be staying, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You’ll be with me, toots. I have several bedrooms in my bachelor pad.”

Adam wrapped an arm around my shoulder. His fingers played with the strap to my nightgown and I felt a pit in my stomach as he slid it down my shoulder. His black fingers caressed the skin and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine. I didn’t know what was worse: Lucifer’s gentle touch or Adam’s commanding one. “How about we get you something new to wear. Lute, take Y/n and get her some new clothes. While I enjoy seeing those pretty shins of yours Y/n, I prefer to see them just for myself.”

His fingers slightly dug into my shoulder and I gulped. Was he being possessive or was it just my imagination from being around Lucifer? Lute signaled for me to follow her and as we walked the golden road I wondered if I truly was in a better place. I thought back to Earth and how I longed to be there with S/o. I wondered if he was looking for me or if somehow the Devil made him forget all about me. I held onto the hope that he was searching everywhere, calling everyone he knew and scouring every town in our state. “Hey, pay attention! We’re here.”

“Sorry.”

I hadn’t noticed Lute had opened a wooden oak door and was pointing at it. I walked in and she shut it behind us. I looked around the room as she rummaged through a closet. The purple floor was made to look like tiled marble and the light blue walls were a pastel version of the sky. The bed itself was King size and had purple sheets and blankets to match. A white knit duvet laid over top and the whole thing looked so soft. A nightstand with a purple based lamp stood on either side of the oak headboard, a wooden oak desk stood under a stained glass window, a purple wooden dresser stood next to the door, and the purple closet was next to another wooden door. Lute walked over and threw a pile of clothes at my chest. I looked up at her and could feel the anger behind her mask. “This will be your room. Bathroom is behind that door. Change and roam around as you like. Just don’t disturb Adam or myself. We’re busy people, got it?”

I blinked in shock at her tone. Why was she so displeased with me? It was Adam’s idea to bring me here. When I didn’t answer, she grabbed me by the hair and pulled. I shrieked as searing pain tugged at my scalp. “I said, got it?”

It sounded like she was gritting her teeth. I nodded my head rapidly. “Yes, yes! I got it!”

As she let go, she pushed me and I landed on the edge of the bed. “Just because you're in Heaven doesn’t mean you’ll get Heavenly treatment. You’re only here because Adam said so. If it was my choice, you would still be rotting in Hell being Lucifer’s bitch.”

She scoffed and turned, her heeled boots clicking against the tiled floor. I sat in disbelief even as the door slammed behind Lute. Clearly she despised me. The question was why. It took me a few minutes to get over the awkward exchange, finally looking down at the pile of clothes. Lute had chosen a boring arrangement: a white tank top, a golden jacket that was just the neck, shoulders and puffy sleeves, dark purple puffy harem pants, and black gladiator sandals. While I matched Adam's color scheme, Lute made it so I didn't stand out. I sighed and walked to the other wooden door. Opening it, it did house a bathroom like she said. I stepped in and locked the door behind me. Sure, everyone is supposed to be friendly, but with the way Adam made me feel uncomfortable I was not risking my safety. The bathroom held a toilet, shower, and a white marble counter with a sink. Silently I stripped down and put on the angelic garments. I had to admit while the clothes Lucifer gave me were soft, these felt, well, heavenly. I looked at myself in the mirror above the counter. I looked so pale from receiving no sun down in Hell and my eyebags matched the purple of my pants. I sighed and turned the faucet onto cold water. The frigidness felt nice against my fingertips as I tested the temperature. Satisfied, I splashed water onto my face and rubbed it in thoroughly. I breathed in deep and looked at myself in the mirror once more. My cheeks felt a bit warm from the cool contact, but I felt a bit better nonetheless. Drying my hands on a towel hanging on a metal bar behind me, I unlocked the bathroom door and headed back into the bedroom. As I was trying to figure out where I was going to explore first, I heard two voices. Curious, I stepped to my bedroom door and opened it slowly. Nobody was in the hallway, but I could hear the muffled conversation taking place next to me. Hesitantly, I walked into the hall and to the golden door next to mine. I put my ear up close to the wood. I couldn’t tell exactly who was talking to one another, but from what I knew it sounded like Adam and Sera. “-can’t believe you would bring her here, Adam! Do you know how dangerous your actions are?!”

“Chill out, drama queen. Nothing is going to fucking happen, okay.”

“You don’t know what Lucifer is capable of.”

“The motherfucker hides during the exterminations. You really think he’d try and come up here?”

“Yes! When Lucifer desires something he won’t stop till it’s in his grasp. I fear he will make quite the grand entrance to come and retrieve his beloved.”

“Oh please. Even if he does come, I’ll have her wrapped around my finger to the point she’ll obey my every order.”

My eyebrows scrunched together. I could only assume they were talking about me. But why would Adam want me to comply with him? It’s not like I found him attractive or was even remotely interested in him. My ears caught onto light footsteps headed for the door, so I quickly rushed around a corner. I watched as Sera entered the hall, a look of disappointment gracing her features. She sighed and floated the opposite direction of me, Adam soon following after. I let my hands slip down to my sides and decided to take a walk to mull over the whole situation.

I didn’t really pay attention to where I was going, just focusing on my feet lifting up and down as I walked. It wasn’t till I heard ocean waves that made me stop. I looked to my left to see a gorgeous beach sitting in the distance. How odd.

I felt myself drawn to the calming sound of the tide seeping in and out as I made my way over. The wooden steps below my feet squeaked a bit and soon the white sand seeped around my sandals. I stopped at the water’s edge and closed my eyes. The breeze off the sea brushed against my flesh, the warmth feeling like a hug from a loved one. The smell of the salt reminded me of when S/o and I traveled a few towns over from ours to visit an aquarium. The animals were held in their natural waters behind glass panes, but the smell of rich salt permeated the air wherever you went. “Enjoying your freedom?”

My eyes shot open and I spun around. Laying on a long white beach chair was a taller woman. Her long blonde hair blew a bit in the breeze and caressed the top of the sand. She wore a dark purple sun hat with a lighter purple band, a dark purple bikini set, and purple rimmed sunglasses. Even though I couldn’t see her eyes, her aura wasn’t threatening. “W-what did you say?”

“I said enjoying your freedom, dearie?”

“Um, I guess. I mean I just got here so I wouldn’t know-”

“Come closer.”

I was taken aback by her tone. Though she was in a relaxed position, her voice was commanding, authoritative. I gulped and did as she requested. I stopped by her bare feet and could feel her eyes scanning me up and down. She hummed and her lips twitched into a small smile. “So you’re the one Lucifer is obsessed with now. I’ll admit I can see why. A pretty thing like you probably reminds him of the swans he would keep in gilded cages. While they weren’t ducks per say he found their beauty and grace appealing.”

I could feel my cheeks heat up at her compliment. “T-thank you?”

She chuckled and leaned back, soaking up the sun. “Your wedding will be the talk of Hell for quite a few months, I reckon. It’s not often that the King lends out his heart. You must be very special to him.”

“I found him as a snake. He was wounded and I patched him up. God, if only I hadn’t touched him I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

The woman scooted her feet over and patted the empty space on her chair. I sat sideways so I was able to glance at her. “So he took the form of a snake, eh? He hasn’t done that since he offered the apple to Eve. I always did find it interesting how slippery he could be, even when not in his snake form.”

“He’s so clingy. I hardly have any time to myself, he is always by my side. His claws touch me tenderly and when I look into his eyes all I can see is adoration. It’s disturbing.”

“Possessive as always. Perhaps your presence eases his depression.” 

“I guess. I just don’t understand why he can’t get it through his head that I don’t want to be with him.”

“It’s called ego, darling. His pride gets the better of him. It doesn’t help that he’s the sin of it either.”

I brought my hand up to sit in my lap and found myself fidgeting with the finger my engagement ring had been on. “Apparently he’s so in love with me that he forgets he was married before. I realize his wife, Lilith I think her name was, left him seven years ago but he acts like I’m his first love.”

The woman was silent for a moment, the calm of the tide being the only sound between us. “Sounds like he’s just trying to find someone who makes him happy.”

“Yes, but at the expense of my own happiness.”

The woman opened her mouth to say something, but a familiar voice made us both look up at the wooden stairs. Emily stood waving her arm, a giant smile on her face. “Adam said you’d be out wandering so I thought I’d catch up and show you the ropes!”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Come on! I have so much stuff to show you!”

I chuckled and stood up from the chair. Just as I started to walk away, the woman’s hand clung to my wrist. Her grip was firm but gentle, making me turn back towards her. With her free hand she slid her sunglasses down her nose just enough to see her eyes. My eyes widened to see her light purple irises gleaming at me. “Please take care of him for me, Y/n. I can tell he truly loves and adores you.”

She raised my hand to her lips and left a light kiss on my knuckles. “Y/n, come on!”

The woman let me slip my hand from her grasp and as I slowly walked away she pushed her sunglasses back up. I was dazed as I reached Emily on the stairs, still reeling from what the woman had said. “Oh I’m so excited to show you everything! I think I’ll take you to the park first, ooo! Or I could take you to the zoo! We’ve got all of the animals Noah had on the Ark and more!”

I didn’t say anything as she grabbed my hand and pulled me away. Before we got too far I looked back at the woman, her hair blowing in the breeze.

I didn’t really pay much attention to what Emily was showing me or what she was saying. I was too focused on my conversation with the woman on the beach. Her eyes felt so familiar to me and yet I couldn’t place where I had seen them before. “/n? Y/n? Are you listening?”

I shook my head to see the young Seraphim looking at me concerned. “Huh?”

“I asked what you thought of the sunset. Isn’t it pretty?”

I followed her arm to see her pointing ahead of us. The clouds around us had turned pink, orange and light purple while the Sun had been cast to be a golden orange. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m here for you.”

Emily placed a hand on my shoulder, her thumb rubbing light circles. While the offer was tempting I didn’t know if I should tell her anything. I mean what did she know about Lucifer? Would she understand how the woman and I had connected while talking of the Devil? I looked over at her and could feel a wave of calm hit. Emily had this aura of trust and care surrounding her; her eyes sparkled and a friendly smile was placed on her black lips. I let out a sigh. “The woman I was with on the beach. Who is she?”

The angel looked puzzled, holding her chin in between her index finger and thumb. “I’m not entirely sure. She just showed up one day with Adam and Lute. I tried to talk to her but she brushed me off. Come to think of it, she only really talks to Adam. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that she knew about Lucifer and I are to be wed soon. She also had information that isn’t known to the general public.”

“Maybe she heard it somewhere? I’ve heard Sera talk about Down Below every once in a while.”

“No, she knew too many details to have heard it in passing. Besides, she told me to take care of him, almost like she knew him personally. It was like she was giving me her blessing.”

“How mysterious.”

The two of us stood watching the sky slowly paint itself to night. It was refreshing to see something that S/o and I would watch any chance we got. “Y/n, may I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What’s it like on Earth?”

I blinked a few times, stunned by her question. “You’ve never been?”

“No. I was created way after Lucifer fell. My only purpose is to make the winners happy and enjoy their eternal life here in Heaven. Sera doesn’t view my position as something needed in everyday human life.”

I hummed and stared at the night sky. A shooting star passed by and I smiled in wonder. “I find it to be a lovely place. The town I live in is a nice community. Everyone knows their neighbors and it was the kind of place where if someone had a barbeque, everyone in the neighborhood was invited. I live by myself in a small house. It was kind of like an apartment but with no roommates. I even have my own little garden out back. It is my pride and joy.”

“That sounds amazing. Do you have any significant others?”

“I do. His name is S/o and he’s my world. Before I was kidnapped we didn’t have much time to spend with one another due to our work schedules. But when we were together, my god those were the best times. He made me feel like the most special girl in the universe.”

I smiled upon remembering my dear boyfriend. The memories of us on dates or him telling a stupid joke that I’d laugh way too hard at flooded my head. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and I was quick to wipe them away. I choked back a sob and tried to focus on the stars. I didn’t want to become a crying mess in front of Emily. “Hiya, toots~”

The young angel and I turned to see the First Man standing behind us, his arms crossed in front of him. “It’s getting late, babe. Hows about you and I get to bed, hm?”

I looked at Emily, who gave me a curt nod. “I suppose.”

I walked up to him, only for him to snuggle me up to his side. “Thanks for watching her, Em! Go get yourself an ice cream or some shit.”

Before I could even say goodbye, Adam was dragging me back to my bedroom. He threw open the door and lightly pushed me inside. I stumbled and turned to look at him. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning. If you need anything, and I mean anything, give me a holler. I’m right next door. Night, babe!”

He threw up a rock symbol on his right hand before slamming the door shut. What is with angels and slamming doors?

I shook my head and went to the closet. I looked in disgust at the pajama choice: a light pink babydoll nightgown with ruffles around the chest area and hem. I searched to see if there were any other options. Unfortunately, there were none. I headed to the bathroom with my pj’s and locked the door behind me. Stripping down, I slid on the nightdress. Looking in the mirror, I cringed at how short it was. I tried to pull the hem down but it stayed around my upper thigh. Growling in frustration, I unlocked the door and headed to the bed. I flipped back the covers and climbed in. I shifted around a bit to try and get comfortable. Even though the mattress was like a cloud, I preferred my bed back home. There I could have S/o’s arms wrapped around me as we cuddled. My homemade quilt and weighted blanket would keep us warm in the Queen sized bed. I could feel the tears from earlier gather in my eyes and slide down onto the pillowcase. I wrapped my arms around my midsection and curled into a ball. I ended up crying myself to sleep.

Over the next few days I found myself next to Adam’s side nearly all the time. The only time I was separated was when I was in the bathroom or when I was sleeping. Even being in the supposed happiest place for death I found myself very uncomfortable. Adam constantly had his hands on me: playing with the straps of my tops, smacking my butt, massaging my shoulders and hips, and his fingertips “accidentally” scraping my boobs. It didn’t help that Lute would constantly glare at me and her face would be pulled into a snarl. I suppose she thought I was disobeying her order to stay away from her master. 

I thought about my interactions with the two as I pulled back the covers, getting ready to go to bed. A knock on my door made me pause. It was pretty late so I was confused as to who could be there. “Come in.”

The door slowly opened to reveal Adam. I gagged at how strong his cologne was as I could smell it all the way to where I was. “Um, hey Adam. What can I do for you?”

His footsteps sounded heavy on the tiled floor and the door shutting behind him felt like a blade stabbing into my heart. He lifted his hand and my breath caught in my throat when I heard the lock. I backed up but I felt the bed behind my knees. The First Man stopped right in front of me and allowed his lips to quirk into a deep grin. His hands came up and started to slide the nightgown straps down. Disgusted, I slapped his hands away and went to shove him. As my hands pushed on him, he was quick to grab my wrists and hold them to his chest. “You look so hot, babe. I was right to pick out this pj set. You fill it out perfectly.”

“Let go of me!”

I struggled to pull my hands away but his grip didn’t falter. “Adam, let go! Y-you’re scaring me!”

“Just go with the flow, sweetie. Can’t you see this was meant to be?”

He pushed me onto the bed and before I could get up he pounced on top of me. I was about to hit him but he pinned my wrists on either side of my head. He leaned down and began to kiss my neck. His lips were sloppy and he brought his tongue to lick against my vein. “I’m going to make you forget all about that fucking Morningstar. All that you’re going to have on your mind is the original Dickmaster.”

As he brought his lips down to kiss mine, I let out a growl and threw my leg upwards. I heard him let out a cry of pain before he fell onto the floor clutching his privates. “My balls! My fucking balls! God dammit, Y/n!”

With fear guiding me, I stumbled to the door and fumbled with the lock. “Come on, come on, come on, come on!”

My fingers shook as I heard Adam rise, a groan leaving his lips. “I was going to play nice, toots. I really was. But it seems you want to play hard to get!”

I heard the lock click and I quickly threw the door open. I sprinted down the hall as I heard Adam yell after me. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I ran faster than I ever had. My escape was futile though as I slammed into a muscular body. I looked up to see Lute, her mask off to reveal a white bob and yellow eyes. I was frozen as I heard Adam huffing behind us. “Good job catching her, Lute!”

“What would you like me to do with the bitch?”

“Lock her in a cell.”

“Anything else?”

��Hit her or something for kicking my balls. That shit hurt.”

“Of course, sir.”

I cried out as Lute grabbed my hair and pulled me down the hall. I tried to pull her hand off but she just tightened her hold. With the pace we were going, the two of us ended up at a dark wooden door. Lute opened it and walked me to the middle of the dimly lit room. She opened the black metal door to the cell and threw me inside. I groaned as I felt my knee scrape against the cold cobblestone floor. I looked up at the angel who sent daggers into my soul with her gaze. “I told Adam you were trouble, but he insisted we bring you here. And after all the hospitality he showed you…you go back on his trust.”

“By hospitality do you mean perverted-” I growled out.

Lute brought her leg up and kicked my cheek. I landed harshly on my side and spit out some blood that oozed from my teeth. “Don’t speak of him like that.”

“Why? It’s not like he’s a saint!”

She growled and drove her foot into my stomach. I howled as sharp pain blossomed. “He’s better than you could ever be! I mean look at you. While he’s up here in Heaven you’re Down Below sucking Lucifer’s cock.”

Her foot hit my stomach again and I could feel bile rise in my throat. “How does it feel to know you’ll never achieve anything? Your legacy will be known as the Devil’s little whore and that’s all you're good for.”

I gave her a smirk before I coughed. “At least I probably give better head than you.”

Her eyes widened before they returned to slits. With her teeth clenched, she brought her right fist into my mouth. I felt my bottom lip split as some blood came shooting out. “Oh, triggered are we? Is this because you have pent up sexual frustration for your leader? Is that some kind of kink you’re into: master and servant?”

“Shut the hell up!”

Grabbing my hair, she slammed my head into the stone floor with a warrior cry. My vision blurred and the room felt like it was spinning. With her hand still tangled in my locks, Lute brought my head up and down several times to meet the floor. My cheekbone felt like it was on fire and I figured the bone was probably shattered with the force of me hitting the ground. “Think you’re tough shit, huh? I can tell you’re just a scared little girl. You were never meant for Heaven, even if you weren’t branded as Lucifer’s slut.”

I could feel my anger boiling. How dare she call me such vile names. “You think I chose this life? Hell no! I was fine being on Earth with my boyfriend!”

“Yeah right. You probably summoned that dirty retch. Why’d you do it? Did you want fame? Money? The glory of saying you fucked the King of Hell?”

“I didn’t do any of that shit! If I had it my way I would have never helped that stupid snake in my garden! Then maybe I wouldn’t be forced to be a bride against my will! Or better yet, then maybe I wouldn’t have met you or your motherfucking boss!”

She yelled in fury and brought her foot up to meet my chest. I landed on my back and the air left my lungs. I heaved in oxygen as she kept kicking me. I swear I heard ribs cracking under pressure. Lute didn’t stop there. She slammed her gray heeled boot onto my fingers and I couldn’t help but let out a scream. “That’s it! Scream, little girl! Pray that your hellish Daddy comes to save you!”

“S-shut up!”

I felt whiplash as her foot dug into my cheek, blood spilling down my bruised lips. “You know what we consider people like you? Fallen. Maybe I should cut your wings like we do all the others?”

“N-no!”

She roughly turned me over so that my back was facing her. I attempted to stand when I heard the sound of fabric ripping and cool air hitting my back. Lute however stomped me into the ground, her heel digging into my flesh. I heard her sword being unsheathed and saw its angelic light bounce off the cell wall. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything I said! Lute, p-please!”

She let out a cruel laugh and I yelped at her heel digging in further. “You’re pathetic, you know that? If you were half the woman that Adam claimed you to be, you wouldn’t go back on your word. Some advice for you, sweetie. If you say a threat, really mean it.”

I screamed as her sword pierced into the left side of my back. There had to be some kind of special angelic powers attached because this hurt way worse than when I would accidentally slice my finger while cooking. Lute reveled in my cries as she dragged the blade around forming some shape. Tears fell rapidly from my eyes as I slammed my fist down into the cold floor, trying to focus on something other than the pain radiating in my back. I was relieved when I felt the weapon retract, but the relief was short lived. A blood curdling shriek ripped through my throat as the sword entered the right side and began drawing a similar shape to its predecessor. Lute seemed to take her time, enjoying my wails bouncing off the walls. She harshly pulled the sword out and resheathed it. “While I would love to carry on my tradition of licking the blood of my enemies off my blade, I don’t want to taint my Holy body with your sin.”

“W-what did you d-do,” I stuttered under my breath.

I could sense a smirk gracing her features as she rounded in front of me. Reaching under my armpits, she hoisted me up and threw me against the wall. I cried out as the rough stone dug into my newly acquired wounds. “I just cut the wings off the fallen, dare I say, angel. Oh who am I kidding? You’re no angel. You’re not even as worthy as the dirt beneath my feet.”

“F-fuck you.”

I grit my teeth as she harshly gripped my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes. “What did I say about empty threats, sweetie? Or do I need to remind you?”

I shook my head as a dangerous smile overtook her face. “No, I think you need the reminder.”

Her hand moved to my throat and she made sure to drag my back up the wall as she let me hang. I weakly kicked my legs as I tried to get her to release me. I could feel my body shutting down as Lute squeezed. I was pretty sure I’d have bruises where her fingers lay. My hands started to slide off of hers as my vision began to get a black haze around the edges. “What is going on here?”

Lute let go of me in her haste and my butt collided hard with the ground. I couldn’t see who had entered as I heaved in deep breaths. “Miss Emily, what are you doing up? It’s late. You should get to bed. Here, let me escort you.”

“What were you doing, Lute?”

“Oh, um, I was taking care of a prisoner.”

I could see a familiar head peek around my attacker’s body, a gasp leaving the young Seraphim’s lips. “Oh my goodness! Y/n!”

Emily rushed past and cradled me in her arms, her hand gently rubbing my bruised cheek. “What have you done?! Y/n didn’t do anything to you!”

“On the contrary Miss Emily, Y/n here has committed a major sin. She rejected the orders of the First Man and I was told to punish her in any way I saw fit.”

“I rejected him because he wanted sex. You left that part out,” I hissed, my throat raw from screaming. 

Lute bit her lip and I could see she was dying to cuss me out. “I could forgive Adam’s behavior up until now, but this, this is unforgivable! I need to talk to Sera about this. Violence isn’t the answer and neither is attacking innocent people!”

I could see a shadow cast over the white haired angel’s face and her hand reached for her sword. “There’s no need to discuss this with Sera.”

My eyes widened as her sword was unsheathed next to her side. Emily must have sensed something was off as well because her arms trembled around me. “Lute, w-what are you doing? Put your sword away n-now!”

“I can’t risk you running and tattling to Sera. Who knows what she’ll do to us. Adam and I belong here in Heaven! We’re doing good in God’s name! We will not be cast Down Below!”

She raised the blade and brought it down quickly towards Emily’s head. She screamed and with a newly found inner strength I forced myself up. I let out a warrior cry as I brought my arm up to protect my face, the sharp weapon making contact with my left shoulder. I heard fabric ripping and a glass shattering shriek from the young Seraphim. Glancing down I saw my arm was missing, it lying discarded on the dungeon floor. I let out a shaky gasp and stumbled into the wall. “Y/N!”

I went to go to Emily’s side but Lute stabbed her sword into my right shoulder, effectively pinning me to the wall. I screeched and realized there was nothing I could do. I helplessly watched as the evil angel went for the younger girl’s throat. However, a punch to her face made her drop Emily. She grunted as her head smacked the wall next to me and her body slid down to the floor. I looked towards our savior and felt the color drain from my face. There stood Lucifer, six red and white wings displayed behind him. His eyes were completely red as tall, curvy, red horns grew from his forehead. A flame hovered between them and the snake that usually rested on his hat was now wrapped around the tip of his horns. From this distance it looked like his sharp teeth had grown longer, his canines more prevalent. Lute grunted as she sat up holding her cheek, golden blood trickling from a cut. “You BASTARD! You can’t hurt an angel on Holy ground!”

“The rules don’t apply to FUCKING SCUM LIKE YOU! How DARE you lay your filthy hands on MY BRIDE!”

He rushed forwards and sent a hard punch to her gut. Lute let out a cry of pain before Lucifer grabbed her by the feathers around her throat. Her muscular legs kicked violently, her white gloved hands digging into black hands. I could hear the crunch of her neck bones breaking, golden blood flying out her mouth onto the Devil’s claws. “I can think of so many ways I can torture you with. What should I start with first, hm? I could pluck those white and black feathers from your wings and have them decorate a cape for my darling; Or I could have my snakes bite you all over your body as you screamed and writhed in agony. Oh yes, their venom would enter your bloodstream and there would be nothing you could do as it slowly overtook you, boiling your insides to ash; Or I could break each bone in your body beginning with your fingers and leaving your neck. After everything was broken and you felt that pain, I could slowly saw off each limb, starting with the tops of your fingers and going down each joint. I think I would like that! And after every vein, tendon, muscle and bone was cut off your body I could give them to Cannibal Town to feed the residents as a treat from their King. Just before you died, I could cut out your tongue, eyes and ears and give them to Alastor. I don’t know what the Radio Demon would do with them, but I know he’d find a way to make them useful. And as you would crash from blood loss, I would place your head on a spike outside my palace. It would be a reminder to not mess with me or my fucking bride! Oh, I’d have fun torturing your soul as surely Heaven wouldn’t want you as my hellish hands corrupted your purity!”

Lute bared her teeth and her legs started to slow down to a small wiggle. I watched on in horror as he threw her at the wall on the opposite side of the room. As he stomped towards her, Emily ran to my side. She took off the shawl around her shoulders and wrapped it around my left shoulder. She pulled it tight to try and staunch the bleeding. I hissed as the pressure sent shooting pain to my remaining nerves. Lucifer’s black tail flicked up and down, acting like a scorpion's. My pupils shrunk as I watched him wrap his fist around one of Lute’s wings. She scratched at him as he tugged, a scream ripping from her throat. “That! Is for even bringing my dear apple up here!”

He gripped her other wing and tugged, more bloodied feathers in his fist. “That! Is for throwing her around!”

He went back and forth ripping more and more feathers from each wing, a pile growing behind Lucifer as he called out something harmful Lute had done to me. “Get off me, you motherfucker!”

The Devil brought up one of his feet, slamming the heel of his black leather boot into her eye socket. I shrieked as he kept at it, more golden blood dripping down as her face was slowly being caved in. I couldn’t watch this any longer.

“LUCIFER, STOP!”

His foot was in midair as it froze. He looked over his shoulder at me. I scrunched my eyebrows together and let pleas slip past my bruised lips and raw throat. 

“PLEASE, STOP! Just stop! You’ve done enough damage!”

He scowled and brought his foot down, turning to face me completely. White irises surfaced on top of his red scaleras, softening as they stared at me. “Y/n, she could have killed you! By God, your arm has been lobbed off! Why do you plead mercy for a disgusting soul like hers? She and Adam should suffer for what they have done to you!”

“It’s not worth it! Killing her won’t rewind time or heal me. Just, just let her be.”

He sighed and looked down at Lute’s crumpled body. I could hear her labored breathing so I knew she was still alive, just in a fatal condition. He walked over and crouched before me. Those white eyes of his were filled with rage and determination, but not directed towards me. He brought his hands up to my cheeks, tenderly rubbing them with his thumbs. “Okay. But I need to remove this weapon from your shoulder. I’m not going to lie, this’ll hurt like hell. Emily, stabilize her.”

“O-of course.”

The young girl moved her hands from my missing arm to underneath my armpits and Lucifer grabbed the hilt of the sword. “I apologize for the pain this’ll bring, my dear. I’ll go as fast as I can without the risk of damaging your nerves.”

I nodded and with that he pulled. I cried out in pure agony. Emily hushed me in an effort to make me feel better but all I could focus on was the pain. When the sword was fully out of my shoulder, Lucifer patted the top of my head and gave it a gentle kiss. He stood and turned back towards Lute, who had pushed herself up so she was in a sitting position. With the sword by his side, my fiance slowly stalked forward until he stopped in front of the fallen angel. I couldn’t see her due to Lucifer’s wings spread out but maybe he had done that on purpose. “You should thank my dear apple. She has shown you mercy in a time when she shouldn’t be so kind. But her kindness is one of the reasons I fell for her.”

I felt a sudden tension in my body. He had agreed to not do anything so why did I feel so uneasy? Suddenly he thrust forward and from the feminine scream that bounced off the walls I could tell he had stabbed her. “But on the other hand, I’m not so merciful. I am the King of Hell after all. What is it that you angels say about me? That I’m a rotten, purely evil, husk of a man who should have choked on his own apple while a snake hung me from a tree in the Garden of Eden? Well let me live up to my title. Let me show you how rotten and purely evil I can be!”

“Lucifer, no,” I cried.

He pulled the sword out of wherever he had stabbed it and lifted it above his head. He brought it down with a yell of fury and I screamed as golden blood sprayed everywhere. I squirmed as some of it had splattered across the room onto Emily and I. It was warm and sticky against my legs and face. I wondered if Lute was even alive after that blow. “You. Sick. Fuck! You’re a monster, you know that?!”

I was shocked to hear the female sidekick, even if her voice was shaky. “I don’t care! I don’t care what others think of me! The only one I need is Y/n! She’s MY darling! MY little apple! MY light! And no one, not even the fucker up here who calls himself Father, CAN TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!”

My eyes widened and I couldn’t tell if it was Emily or I who was trembling the hardest. 

He was crazy.

Absolutely batshit insane.

I finally realized how deep his obsession for me ran. 

He cackled like a lunatic, throwing his head back. His whole body shook with how hard he was laughing. He brought the angelic weapon up again and swung down-

"LUCIFER!”

All of us froze. There in the doorway stood Sera, a multitude of eyes surrounding her gray curls. Her fists were balled at her sides as she walked in. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Lucifer didn’t even look at her, too focused on his prey in front of him. “I’m acting in self defense. Aren’t I, Emily?”

Sera looked at the two of us and Emily squeaked. “Is this true, Emily?”

“I-I-I-”

“Be truthful, my child. I don’t want you scorned for siding with the embodiment of evil.”

“...He saved us, Sera! Lute, she, she, she was going to kill me! If Mister Morningstar hadn’t stepped in both Y/n and I would be dead!”

The High Seraphim was taken aback, her eyes fading from her hair. “What?”

“Hey, what’s with all the commotion? Some people are trying to sleep-”

My gaze saw Adam walk in behind Sera, his mouth allowing a yawn to pass. The pit in my stomach grew as I feared how he would react when he saw the state of his right hand woman. Sure enough his eyes landed on her and his body tensed. “Holy shit…Lute.”

His hands balled up next to his sides and his eyebrows scrunched over the top of the golden eyes on his mask. “You, motherfucker! You, son of a bitch! You could have killed her-”

A screech ripped my throat as Lucifer whipped around and sliced through Adam’s arm. It flopped to the floor and a chorus of fear filled the air. The First Man was quick to grab his open wound, liquid gold coating his fingers. “What the fuck. What the fuck! WHAT THE FUCK! YOU CUT OFF MY ARM, YOU ASSHOLE!”

With Lucifer turned I could see the fire burning in his eyes. He was scaring even Sera, her taking a step back. “What is it they say? An eye for an eye? Well in this case it’s an arm for an arm.”

“YOU, DICKBAG! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!”

“Why don’t you ask your little whore when she wakes up? I’m sure she’d love to tell you in great detail while she’s in between your thighs sucking you off about what happened.”

Adam growled and released his shoulder, his bloodied hand pointing at Emily and I. His index finger started to glow with a bright white light and I feared he’d shoot me. With the threat in the air, Lucifer brought the tip of the sword to the masked man’s throat. He pushed it in, not enough to draw blood but enough to make the consequence known. “Don’t. Even. Think. About. It. You’re lucky that my dearest told me not to kill anybody. Because believe me, my limit has been passed and I’m hanging by a fucking thread.”

Adam gulped and the blade moved with the bob of his adams apple. I could see fear in the egotistical man’s eyes and even his stance had changed to try and protect himself. “Say, how about I cut off the other hand to join its partner on the floor? I could make them into a pair of cup holders for my beloved and I to use as we sip your thick rich blood from bejeweled goblets.”

“W-why would you want to do that? My blood doesn’t even taste that good!”

“Let’s see, I could name a million reasons. But the first one that comes to mind is to punish you for assaulting my fiance! Did you really think I wouldn’t know about you constantly putting your wretched paws all over her?”

“L-look, you stole two of my wives. I was only returning the favor!”

Lucifer grit his teeth and I swear with how hard he pushed them together they would shatter. The glare that he sent towards Adam was lethal as his eyes turned completely red once more. His black knuckles turned white with how hard he gripped the hilt of the sword. “Those two were just to show how superior I am to you. Y/n is different. She is my true love! She’ll remain by my side for the rest of her eternal life and together we will rule Hell as King and Queen! And if you think you can take that away I’ll cause my own extermination! Any and all winners will be subject to my wrath! They will be slaughtered one by one and their souls forced to burn beneath my hooved feet! I’ll torture every last one of them as I send them to each ring of Hell, the Cardinal Sins and Overlords free to do whatever the fuck they want! UNDERSTOOD?!”

The sword was pushed a bit further into Adam’s neck, a light trail of blood sliding down from the small gash. The tension was so thick that the weapon in Lucifer’s hands wouldn’t be able to cut through it. “Y-you got it, man! Just don’t hurt me!”

The Devil chuckled and pulled away. “Oh, Adam. So above it all until your whole existence is threatened. Then you turn into a pussy and cower away.”

Throwing the sword into Lute’s left wing with a huff, he used his now open hands to conjure a red misty portal. When Lucifer turned to face Emily and I his white irises had returned to his red eyes and a soft smile reached his lips. He walked over, his bloodied boots clicking against the cobblestone. Slowly, as if to not scare me further, he crouched in front of us. His arms reached for me and as he got close Emily hugged me tight to her frame. Tears ran down my cheeks and wet their previously dry tracks. I shook my head and curled my legs into my torso, trying to get as far away from my fiance. “Please don’t hurt her, Mister Morningstar!”

His face dropped and he shook his head side to side. “You honestly think that I’d hurt my darling? I’m hurt, Emily.”

He reached for me again and before the young girl could put up a fight, he wrapped his arms around me. Standing up, he hoisted me bridal style and brought our foreheads together. He closed his eyes and nuzzled me close. A purr rumbled in his throat and he opened his eyes. That frightening look of adoration had returned, his pupils almost looking like little hearts. He gave my forehead a kiss and then turned towards the other angels. “Goodbye, cunts. Hopefully we never see you again.”

His presence commanded the room as he walked us towards the portal, the familiar dark red sky of Hell peeking through. “Let’s go home, my dearest Y/n. We deserve some alone time together.”

A sob wracked my body as he flew forward, the portal closing immediately behind us.

~~~~~~~~

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[subbmissivesuccubus]

Rengoku X Reader X Uzui Part 3

Disclaimer : Smut. Threesome. Fem Reader. Uzui and Rengoku being jealous and possessive. Slight humiliation. Vaginal and anal sex.

It was just a regular day, you spending lunch with Rengoku and Uzui at a local restaurant. You chatted while you ate the food, Rengoku sitting beside you while Uzui sat opposite, enjoying your time together.

But just as Rengoku was lovingly feeding you some rice, a familiar voice called out as she stopped by the table. You looked up and hiccuped as you made eye contact with your best friend, a beautiful and strong young woman who was also a demon slayer and your closest companion.

"Well, isn't this interesting?" she said with a sly smirk as she looked between the three of you, Rengoku's chopsticks still in your mouth, "So, which one of you would like to explain?"

Which is how you found yourself sitting beside your best friend with your lovers opposite to you, face red as you explained the situation to her. You didn't want to make a big deal out of being in a relationship with two Hashira's- especially when you don't know where it's going- plus all the rumors and gossip that will spread around if people found out- it was too much of a hassle.

They had specifically chosen this restaurant as it was usually empty at this time of the day, but it seemed like the universe had other plans.

"Listen," your friend said, waving away your embarrassment, "having two Hashira's fall for you is basically winning the lottery and I'm sure you know that too. As long as you're all happy, that's what matters. And don't worry, my lips are sealed."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." you said, feeling a but guilty but once again, she dismissed it.

"I understand why you kept it a secret," she said, "I'm just glad you're with two very nice men this time and didn't choose someone like Misato again."

"Misato?" Uzui repeated, raising an eyebrow, eyes shooting over to look at you "your friend? The one you go on missions with?"

"You two were together?" Rengoku asked, a frown on his face.

"No!" you said, quickly squashing the confusion, "we were never together. I don't know what she's talking about-"

"Yeah but you had the biggest crush on him!" your friend said, either not noticing or ignoring the look you gave her of the silent plea to stop talking, "You liked him so much- it was honestly kind of embarrassing."

"Really?" Uzui asked, leaning forward seemingly intrigued but you could tell that there was a bit more to his interest, "Tell us more."

"Well- ow!" your friend suddenly yelped as you stepped on her foot underneath the table, hissing from the pain, "you bitch! why'd you do that?"

"I didn't do shit." you said, trying your best to gaslight as you picked up some fruit with your chopsticks and shoved it in her mouth, "You're just imagining things cause you're hungry. Here- keep eating-"

"Mmph!" your friend whined in frustration as you kept shoving food in her mouth, smacking your hand away as she struggled to chew. "Don't be embawassed-" she said, slurring her words as she gulped down the food, "we have all have at least one person we shouldn't have fallen for."

"Yeah honey, don't be embarrassed." Rengoku said with a monotone voice that it made you hiccup, "Please, Give us the details. And don't interrupt her." he said, shooting you a glare that made you shrink down.

"He's a nice guy," your friend said, defending him, "Just that he isn't the best at relationships and he knowingly strung her along for the fun of it. He says he's not ready for commitment but I guess he liked the attention."

"But she," your friend continued, gesturing to you with a teasing grin, "was so in love with him that it took her awhile to notice the red flags. Guess she thought she could change him if she stuck by his side but, it didn't work."

"I see..." Uzui said, folding his arms over his chest before he addressed you, "And you're still friends with this guy?"

"Well...yeah." you said, feeling embarrassed and guilty for some reason, "Like she said, he's a nice guy when he's just your friend. He's strong and very dedicated to helping people. But I stopped having a crush on him when I realized he was purposefully leading me on and wasn't taking me seriously- or seemed to care about my feelings."

"Doesn't seem like he got the memo, though." Your friend said with a roll of her eyes, "he keeps asking about you when I talk to him."

"Really?" you asked with perhaps too much curiosity considering the glare both Uzui and Rengoku sent you way, making you cough and correct yourself, "I mean- that's surprising."

"I think he misses the attention you gave him," your friend said, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say. I guess not going on missions with him for awhile made him realize he missed your company. At least, now I know why you weren't going with him." she smiled over at your two men, their expressions softening at the comment.

"So when did all this happen?" Rengoku asked.

"Oh pssht-" you babbled, "It's been a really long time- what like- a few years-"

"It's been a couple of months." your friend answered, ignoring your glare and this time, you couldn't really kick her feet for it lest your men get even more annoyed at you.

"Oh, so fairly recent." Uzui said, raising his eyebrows, "And how often does she go on missions with him?"

"Every other day." she said with a shrug, not realizing the predicament she was putting you in. The men managed to conceal their emotions very well, but you could see the slight twitch of the eye and the minuscule scowl on the face.

"But! It's important to note that I don't go on missions with him that often anymore," you said, "Remember? You even said he's noticed my absence."

"Yeah cause you went from going with him four to five times a week to once a week."

Rengoku gripped his chopsticks a touch too tightly while Uzui let out a soft scoff, pondering. "That's still quite frequent." he said, leveling you with a glare. You gulped, feeling guilty. like you had cheated on them even though you know you did nothing wrong.

"Oh! Would you look at the time." your friend said, glancing at the nearby clock, "I have to leave now. I actually came here just to have a quick snack and since you so lovingly fed me," she rolled her eyes at you teasingly, "I'll have to go now. Let's all get together again if you want more embarrassing stories about this one." she teased, elbowing you before getting up.

"Be careful." you said with a scowl, sending her a telepathic message that you were gonna beat her up later, a message she happily ignored. With a wave goodbye, she skipped out of the restaurant, leaving you in the wake of her destruction.

An awkward silence fell across the table, no one saying anything. You looked around, nervous and awkward before picking up the chopsticks and poking at your food. "It's gone cold..." you said silently.

"So...you frequently go on missions with the guy you were in love with who has now, apparently, fallen for you." Uzui said, recollecting the points.

"Wh- ok- it sounds bad when you say it like that..." you defended.

"How else would you say it?" Rengoku asked, elbows on the table as he leaned forward.

"Just...two friends going on missions together?"

"But you're not just 'friends' are you?"

"Sure we are! I'm not interested in him."

"But he's interested in you."

"Ok well I know that now..." you mumbled, "but that is also just speculation..."

Uzui suddenly straightened up, "You have a mission tonight and you said you're going with a friend. It's with him, isn't it?"

"...no."

Both of them gave you a look that clearly conveyed that it would be in your best interest not to lie.

"...yeah."

"And you didn't tell us about this because...?" Rengoku prodded.

"I don't know..." you said with a shrug, "I didn't think it was important. It's all in the past."

"Hmph." Uzui said with a grunt, "so you're still going on this mission with him?"

"Well, I can't cancel on him now..." you said with a pout before letting out a huff, "Can we drop this please? I'm going on a dangerous missions and I don't want to fight before I leave..."

The two men looked at each other before letting out a sigh. Uzui reached his hand out to grab yours gently, raising it to press a kiss against your fingers.

"Alright, darling." Rengoku said, "We'll talk about this later."

But what you didn't know was that later was going to come far too quickly~

"Wait- boys- Mmph!"

Your protest got muffled down by Uzui shoving his tongue down your throat, the man greedily kissing you, strong hand on your jaw to keep you in place.

"Mm- I have to- mmph- I have to get ready-" you tried to say, breaking the kiss only for him to keep chasing your lips, not giving you the time to even finish a full sentence.

Rengoku was nibbling on your neck from behind you, grunting as he finally undid your uniform and ripped your shirt off of you, the fabric dropping to the floor. You gasp as his hands cupped your bra covered chest, your body shivering as he bit down on a sensitive spot on your neck.

"Boys- Mmph- please!" you say in frustration, pulling away from the kiss again and this time, not allowing Uzui to kiss you again until you spoke, "I have to leave soon! I don't have time for this!"

"You still have ten minutes." Uzui said, hand traveling to your back to undo your bra, Rengoku ripping it off of you once he did before groping your bare tits, "We'd better be quick."

"That- ah!" you gasped as the flame Hashira started teasing your sensitive nipples, his fingers rubbing the buds in circles to harden before he grasped them between his thumb and forefinger and started to tweak them, your back arching against him as he did. You could feel his hardness press against your ass, the man still mouthing at your neck greedily.

Uzui got on his knees, desperately tugging at the belt of your uniform pants, getting it off of you in seconds before he got to work on unbuttoning it. Your pants bunched up at your feet, Uzui getting you to step out of them and throwing them aside, leaving you in your panties which you knew weren't going to stay on your for any longer.

You looked to your side at the mirror you were standing in front of to check your uniform, having just been relaxing in your room with your two lovers before they decided to pounce on you, and you noticed the hickies Rengoku was leaving on you.

"Rengoku-san!" you whined, bunching up your shoulders to push your partner away from your neck, the man letting out a growl of frustration as you did, "N-no marks!"

"Your uniform will cover them up anyway." was all he said, giving your tit a slap before greedily going back to your neck, mouthing at your sensitive spots once more. Uzui kissed your clothed mound before swiftly taking your panties off, leaving you completely naked for them. He groaned as he stuffed his face between your legs, tongue peeking out to lick at your pussy. You gasped, tossing your head back as he focused on your clit, sucking in your sensitive little bud.

"Lie down baby." Uzui said, separating himself to guide you towards your futon. Having no desire to stop them, you lied down on the futon, whining as Uzui immediately pushed your legs upto your chest. He groaned as he went back to mouthing at your pussy, having more freedom to really work his tongue on your dripping cunt. Your moans were swallowed by Rengoku, the man leaning down to slot his lips against yours, messily kissing you.

"Fuck- going to fuck you now, sweetheart." Uzui said, pushing himself up to tug at his pants. Since they had to finish quickly, he unfortunately didn't have the time to eat you out till you came in his mouth so he'll have to finish that up some other time.

You held your legs up for him, keeping them folded and spread, attention still diverted to Rengoku shoving his tongue down your throat when you felt Uzui's fat cock slap against your pussy, making you jump. The man licked his lips as he teased you, running his cock up and down between your folds, his member getting coated with a layer of your slick, growing harder against you.

Rengoku placed another kiss to your lips before he pulled away, caressing your face lovingly as he asked: "Where's the lube, baby?"

"I-In the drawer."

The flame Hashira got up and went to said furniture, opening it and rummaging around before he found it. He quickly walked back, smirking at your frustrated expression as Uzui simply grounded his cock-head against your clit.

"Make her ride you." Rengoku said, "I want to work open her ass."

You blushed at how shamelessly your lover said that, body trembling as you got prepared for what Rengoku was going to do. "You heard the man." Uzui said, grabbing your hips and manhandling you so easily, someone could mistake you for being the weight of paper. You wound up lying on top of the large man, Uzui lying down comfortably with you on his chest and his cock throbbing between your legs.

Rengoku gave your butt a firm spank before he grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them apart, leaning down and giving your back entrance a greedy lick. "Ah!" You squealed, body shivering from the hot, wet contact. You had done anal only once before, so the sensation of anything back there was still foreign to you.

"Get my cock in you." Uzui ordered, waiting patiently as your hand slid between the two of you and grasped his hard, throbbing member. Your mouth salivated at how you couldn't wrap your fingers around his cock, his girth always taking your breath away before you pressed him against your eager, wet hole. Your pussy was even more lubricated considering the saliva on your ass that was dripping down to your cunt from Rengoku eating you out, so the slide inside you was smoother than usual.

Both you and Uzui moaned simultaneously, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his member stretched you out, splitting your poor pussy deliciously. His hands tightened around your hips, the man hissing between his teeth as your velvet, wet cunt surrounded him, squeezing him perfectly.

"Good girl. Good- fucking girl- that's it!" Uzui groaned, helping you take him inch by inch. Despite the countless times you all had sex, it still took some effort for you to take his cock. It didn't help that your pussy was clamping down on him all the more harder due to Rengoku eating your ass.

With another messy lick, the blonde haired man separated from your ass, smirking at how Uzui was now balls deep inside of you before he opened the bottle of lube and generously coated his finger with it. He gently pressed said finger against your hole, running it in circles over your rim to rub the lube in before gently pushing it into your hole. You squealed, tossing your head back at the insertion, making your head feel loopy.

"Just relax, darling." Rengoku said, lightly thrusting his finger in and out, working you open, "you're too tight."

"I'm t-trying!"

"Well, try harder."

It didn't help that this was when Uzui started moving, making you yelp as he couldn't hold himself back anymore. His strong legs pressed against the futon, he lifted his hips up and down to start fucking you from underneath, the slide of his fat cock inside you taking your breath away.

"That's it- good fucking girl- taking us so well, hmm?" Uzui groaned into your ear, hips thrusting into you desperately, your pussy squeezing his cock deliciously. Your slick dripped down his balls, soiling him in the process and it was so filthy, you felt him grow even harder inside you.

"Your ass feels so good, darling~" Rengoku said from behind you, having worked upto two fingers inside your ass, more comfortably stretching you open, biceps flexed as he fingered you, "fuck- you're so hot like this!"

You couldn't even say anything, your mouth open in a perpetual moan as your men took you so passionately. You felt full beyond belief, your cunt and ass stretched to accommodate them, both of them working together to make you crazy from the pleasure. If this was how good it felt with just fingers in your ass, you shuddered to think of how it would feel having Rengoku's cock in you. You held onto Uzui for dear life as they pounded you mercilessly, your ass jiggling with each thrust, your toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of your head as you were assaulted with pleasure. You pushed yourself up on your hands using the wind pillar's body as support, no longer lying down chest to chest with him and the new position drove his cock deeper inside you, making him groan.

Uzui was moaning underneath you, cock pumping against your womb hungrily as he chased his pleasure, balls clapping against your cunt. Rengoku could feel his cock going in and out of you and it was strange but exciting. The room was filled with the sounds of moaning and slick skin slapping against each other.

"Baby," Regoku groaned, gently pulling his fingers out of you before unbuttoning his pants and getting his cock out, "Gonna fuck you now, OK?"

"Mmhmm!" You mewled, nodding desperately as Uzui picked up the pace, fucking you so deliciously, "P-Please- I need you!"

Rengoku licked his lips in excitement as he generously lubed up his cock, lathering it before pressing his cockhead against your ass. He got you to stop bouncing, making Uzui growl in annoyance but he held you still, allowing Rengoku to take the time he needed to make sure he took this slowly and safely.

Everyone's heart was beating faster and faster as Rengoku started to push, his cockhead popping inside you, making you shudder at the intrusive feeling. He kept pushing in more and more, stretching your ass out so wonderfully. Uzui swore underneath you, Regoku's cock making your pussy even tighter and it took all his willpower to not cum immediately.

"Fuck- that's it- good girl- almost- fuck! There we go~" Rengoku cursed, giving your ass cheeks a greedy squeeze as he bottomed out. Your fingers dug into Uzui's skin, your mouth open in a perpetual moan as you got used to the feeling, eyebrows furrowed and tears in your eyes as your body was stretched beyond belief. Uzui raised a hand to wipe away a tear before stuffing the same thumb into your mouth, making you moan around it as you sucked.

"Going to move now, ok baby?" Rengoku asked, sweat on his brow as your tight ass squeezed him more than he could handle but he managed to hold himself together. No way was he going to cum before they made you cry from pleasure.

You tried to beg Regoku to move but your words were muffled and slurred by Uzui's thumb in your mouth, the man shoving it as deep as it could go but your whines and garbles were enough for Rengoku to know you were ready for him. Taking a deep breath, a gentle kiss to your shoulder, Rengoku got ready to move-

When there was a knock on the door.

"Hey, it's me. You in here?"

Oh fuck. it was Misato. your mind went for a spin, making you feel dizzy from the sudden interruption in your already overwhelming situation. You tapped onto your men's arms, desperately and silently asking them to stop, Uzui taking his thumb out of your mouth. You put a finger to your lips, signaling to your men to stay silent, heart pounding as you hoped if you were all quiet, he would just leave.

"I know you're in there. I can see your shadow through the door."

You silently cursed as you looked down and sure enough, your fuck pile was casting a shadow below the door that would be noticeable from the other side.

"Just- give me a minute!" you called out, whining in frustration as you whispered for the men to pull out of you. Again, they complied without any fuss but you were so panicked in your situation that you failed to notice the look they gave each other. You hopped up onto your feet, your men doing the same.

"We're running late, you know." Misato called out, "What happened? You're always on time."

"I- uh..." you stammered, forgoing underwear as you simply pulled your pants up before shrugging on your top and messily buttoning it up, "Lost track of time."

"That isn't like you."

"Yeah well..." you said, grabbing your Haori and draping it on your shoulders, praying that the fabric will be enough to cover up your hard nipples peeking through your uniform, "Happens to the best of us."

You quietly shooed Uzui and Rengoku to the corner of the room far away from the view of the door, their cocks still comically hard and wet but you unfortunately couldn't help them. They gave you an unamused glare but you quickly gave them both a kiss on the lips.

"I'll make it upto you, I promise." you said before quickly skipping to the door.

"About time- woah." Misato said as he looked you up and down, "What happened to you?"

"Hahaha..." you laughed awkwardly, tugging your haori around you tighter, no doubt looking like a mess. Your hair was wild, your lips plump and red and not to mention the blush and sweat on your face.

"I uh...almost drowned in the bath." you lied on your feet, trying to come up with something.

"What?!" Misato barked, "Are you OK? How did that happen?"

"Just, you know, super tired these days and the bath was so relaxing I kind of fell asleep- it happens. But it doesn't matter- I'm perfectly fine!"

"If you say so...anyway, you ready to leave?"

"Could you uh..." you looked down at your uniform, clearly needing a retouch, "Could give me a minute?"

"Sure thing. But don't take too long, alright?"

But jst as Misato was about to ruffle your hair, a voice suddenly popped up :

"Baby, are you done? Come back to bed."

You yelped as Uzui suddenly walked into frame, making your breath catch in your throat as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side as he leaned down to snuggle his face into your hair. He was thankfully wearing pants, privates hidden but he was shirtless, showing off his incredible physique.

"How long are you going to keep me waiting, darling?" he asked, placing a kiss into your hair.

"Uzu- you- what- you-" you sputtered, blood rushing to your face so fast it made you dizzy, your brain short-fusing at the sudden situation.

"Oh, hello." Uzui said, chuckling at your failure to make words as he focused on your friend, "I didn't realize you were still here. Who are you again?"

Misato snapped out of his trance, the man shocked into silence the second he saw a Hashira appear out of nowhere.

"I'm Uzui Tengen." the sound Hashira said, introducing himself, "but I'm sure you already knew that."

"Y-Yes sir! M-My name is Misato. It's an honor to meet you Sir!" Misato yelped, bowing respectfully before slowly straightening himself up, eyes wide in shock, "B-but may I ask what you're doing in her room-"

"You're a big boy, I'm sure you can figure it out." Uzui said, moving to stand behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you before he leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of your head, ignoring how beet red your face was.

"That's- you're-" Misato sputtered, his own face turning red as his eyes jumped between you and Uzui. "U-Uzui-san!" you snapped, feeling your gut churn over the situation. You had wanted to tell Misato about them - but not like this!

But before you could say anything, Rengoku's hand shot out to grip your chin, turning your face towards him before he kissed you, swallowing down your yelp. Just as shirtless and sweaty with his pants riding low on his hip and doing a poor job of concealing his erection, it was very clear that he too was involved in your adult activities. Misato jumped, eyes as wide as dinner plates as he watched the flame Hashira kiss you, his brain taking awhile to compute.

"R-Rengoku-san is here too-?"

"Oh, excuse me." Rengoku said with a smile on his face once he pulled away from you, "I didn't realize you were still here and I showed you something quite shameful. My apologies." You slapped your hands over your face, too embarrassed to even get a word out, face so red you felt like steam was leaking from your ears.

"N-No it's o-okay." Misato said, how eyes now jumping between all three of you, connecting the dots, "So you're with t-two men-"

"Sorry- why are you here, exactly?" Rengoku asked, pretending like he didn't know, "I don't mean to be rude but we weren't expecting any...interruptions."

"Ah- uh...we-we're supposed to be leaving to do a mission together...Sir." Misato explained. He looked like he wanted to run away but he also knew he couldn't do that without being dismissed by the Hashira as it would be incredibly disrespectful.

"Oh, a mission?" Uzui repeated, pretending like he didn't know about it, "she didn't say anything about a mission. Guess she must have forgotten about it." his arms tightened around your waist, giving you a silent command to not say anything, both of them on a mission of their own to let the guy know you weren't thinking about him- that he was forgettable to you.

"But as you can see, we're quite busy at the moment..." Uzui pondered, "So I'm sure you can find someone else to replace her for tonight?"

"That's-"

"I know quite a few people who are free and who'd be happy to assist you." Rengoku said, cutting off any protest Misato might have, giving him the names, "Just tell them I asked them to help you and they'll understand."

"...okay." Misato said, sounding embarrassed and defeated, eyes flicking over to you but you couldn't see him as you were still covering your face with your hands, "I guess...I'll see you later..."

"Great." Uzui said with a smile, "Now if you'll excuse us~"

With a bright and cheerful smile, Rengoku closed the door on Misato's face.

"Oh my god- oh my god- oh my god- oh my god-" you sputtered like a broken record, your face completely red as you processed the situation, a mix of concerned and turned on as you barely registered the fact that Uzui had picked you up easily and deposited you back onto your futon, "I-I can't believe you guys just did that- ah!"

You yelped as Rengoku got you on your stomach, pulled both of your pants down and quickly slid back into your ass, taking your breath away. He growled as he didn't start slow this time- both of you still lubed up and ready- as he immediately thrusted into you over and over again. "It seemed like the both of you-" he growled, happy to be back inside you, "Needed a lesson on who you belong to." "Indeed." Uzui said, grabbing a nice fistful of your hair in one hand "Now he knows you're off limits."

"I-I was gonna t-tell him anyway!" you said, squealing as Uzui tightened his grip on your hair, "that was so f-fucking embarrassing-"

"Yeah? Then why are you moaning so much? Hmm?" Rengoku asked, reeling a hand back and giving you ass a nice spank, making you squeal, a hand print left behind on your skin, "don't want to be humiliated? They maybe don't enjoy it so fucking much."

You whined in frustration, barely able to piece together a sentence as Rengoku fucked our ass with reckless abandon, the man's growls so sexy it made your pussy weep. A part of you was horrified that your close friend saw your situation, but another part of you really loved how possessive they were of you.

"Who do you belong to?" Uzui asked as he pulled you hair, making you get on your hands and knees, back arching, "Say it."

"I-I belong to you t-two!" you whimpered, Rengoku's cock fucking you so good it took you a few seconds to even respond.

"Say it louder." Uzui ordered, smacking your bouncing tits.

"I belong to the b-both of you!" you said, loud enough that you knew if Misato was still outside, he'd hear you, "I'm yours- I'm y-yours!"

"You better fucking remember it." Uzui snarled, his other hand ripping his pants open to fish his cock out, "Our pretty little wife- you really think we'd let some other man even think he has a chance with you?"

"You're so gorgeous and smart and strong- we need to make sure- fuck that's tight- make sure others know you're off limits now." Rengoku said, leaning over you to press his chest against your back to growl into your ear, "you belong to us and only us. Understand?"

"I- I- I understand!" you squealed, tears in your eyes over how intense the situation was, "I get it- please- I need you b-both-"

"Careful what you wish for, angel." Uzui said, using the grip he had on your hair to direct you towards his cock, fat member pressed against your face, giving your cheek a couple of smacks before pressing it against your lips, "We need to make sure this lesson really sticks. You're not sleeping tonight."

~~~~~

"Woah. I'm guessing last night was really tough, huh?" your best friend asked, looking you up and down as you sat opposite to her for lunch. No doubt you looked exhausted to her. You hissed as your butt made contact with the chair, pushing yourself up only to slowly seat yourself back down.

"...I blame you." you snarled, placing your plate of food on the table.

"Me?" she asked, confused, "what did I do??"

"It's because of you that I had to deal with two demons on my own."

"Two demons?! On your own?! Was that why Misato was sulking so much? Did the mission go that badly?"

"Mission? What mission?"

"What?"

"Huh?"

~~~~~

[inuiiwonderland]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HEAR ME OUT..

Y/n who falls out of love when [twst character of your choice #1] doesn’t show interest, and when Y/n does fall out of love they get all sad because they DID really try for that person. But then comes in [twst character of your choice #2] who comforts Y/n and then they kinda just fall in love from there. BUT what Y/n DIDNT know was that [twst character of your choice #1] knew that Y/n was in love with them and also had feelings for them but didn’t know how to express it

IS IT vISIONINGN?!?!?

—🐍anon

ISNSNDKD YES I SEE THE VISION ANON!!! I had a really fun time writing this so enjoy!🤍

Sorry if it’s ass. I haven’t written anything in a fat minute🥲

Dead and new feelings

Character pairing: Ace x gn! Reader (feat. Azul)

Words: 1.5k

-

A huge frown was shown in both of the boys' faces as they watched you fawn over the octavinelle housewarden. Ace brows furrowing even further seeing you talk highly of the octo mer and having a deeper frown the more he heard you call him “cute” and “amazingly smart”.

Yuck

He can already feel the throw up in his mouth

“He’s so cute and smart!”

“You mean a bitch?” He says. Arms crossed over his chest as he gave you a disgusted and judgmental look.

“Ace!” Deuce says as he quickly looks around to make sure said housewarden or his minions aren’t nearby. He’s still traumatized by the events that occurred not so long ago with octavinelle housewarden and his two companions.

“What?! Don’t act like I didn’t hear you calling him a bitch the other day when he walked past us in the halls” The boy shrieks as he slams his hand over Ace's mouth.

“Shut up!”

“Ew get your hands off me!” You rolled your eyes as you continued to day dream about Azul.

“What are you two doing?” The three of you both scream as you all turn around to see the heartslabyul housewarden.

“Housewarden!”

“Riddle!”

The young boy raises a brow.

“I thought you two said you were going to be studying”

“We are! Look see” Deuce shows him all the books and papers as he gave his housewarden an awkward smile. Riddle sighs. Clearly annoyed.

“You two must be in the dorm by 3. Don’t be late or else it’s off with your heads” The two freshmen nod. Ace mutters a low “bitch” under his breath as you kick his foot from under the table.

“You got it housewarden!”

Satisfied, he leaves without another word.

“Ace you could’ve gotten in trouble if he heard you!”

“IF! But he didn’t” You smack his shoulder before standing up and gathering up all your things.

“Well then, I’ll be leaving now”

“What?! Why?” Ace whines as he tries to pull you back down to your seat.

“Because unlike you, I have very important things to do!”

“Lameeee” Deuce smacks the back of his head.

“It’s not lame if the prefect wants to focus on more important matters!”

“Ugh lame! Both of you!” This time, he gets two smacks from the both of you.

-

It wasn’t a secret that you have a thing for octavinelle housewarden. All of your friends knew about this “little” crush on the second year boy.

Even Floyd and Jade know about your crush on their housewarden. Much to your embarrassment.

You blame Ace for that. You came to his basketball practice after class since he was BEGGING you to come and watch. When they went on break, he jogged over to you as you handed him his water bottle.

“How was class?” He asks as he takes a sip of his water.

“Amazing!” He raises a brow at you, motioning to you to tell him more.

“Today in Mr.Crewel class we had to pick a partner to do this small little assignment. I was going to ask Silver if he wanted to work with me but before I could go up and ask him Azul came up to me and asked if I wanted to work with him!” You squealed as you repeatedly punched his arm.

“He definitely wants me!” At that, Ace lets out a LOUD cackle which causes him to choke on his water. This obviously caught the attention of a certain eel who then made his way towards the both of you.

“Heyyy shrimpy are you telling jokes? I want to laugh too!” You froze as Ace continued to just cackle. Without thinking, Ace turns to Floyd and repeats the same words that you told him.

“They said that Azul wants them because he picked them as a partner for a quick assignment!” You gasp and your blood runs cold.

Oh you're definitely going to kill him

“Ace! You fucking idiot!”

“Ow! What the fuck did- ohhhh” He stops laughing and looks up at Floyd.

“Uhh…you're not gonna say anything…right?” Floyd just laughs as he runs away from the two of you.

So yeah, that’s the story of Ace being a loud mouth and blurting out your crush's name to one of his friends.

You remember being paranoid for WEEKS thinking that Floyd might’ve told Azul after he found out. You ignored him for a while after but once you saw that he wasn’t acting weird or different whenever he was around you you knew Floyd didn’t snitch.

Which you remember being grateful for

But that was in the past! Azul hasn’t been in your mind in a long time. In fact, you were starting to move on from your silly little crush on the octavinelle housewarden!

It did hurt at first. You truly did like Azul! But it was slowly starting to just become a little….draining? And a little embarrassing?

You did so much to make him notice you and the feelings that you had for him. But he was just not interested. You would even try to go out of your comfort zone for even a tiny piece of his attention! But you soon gave up afterwards knowing that your feelings aren't reciprocated.

And you remember feeling sad the day you realized that he doesn’t have the same feelings for you as you have for him. And that day was a tough day. You had grim and the ghosts comforting you that night as you cried your little heart out.

You remember Ace's comment the next day. The moment you entered the classroom with red eyes and a blank expression. He decided to be an ass that morning and make a comment about how you looked like shit.

You looked at him for a second before taking your seat next to him and remaining silent for the whole class period.

Obviously, Ace being Ace did in fact NOT like how quiet you were and how you didn’t react to any of his jokes or snarky comments when someone dared to try him. You remember him pulling you into an empty classroom that day and was ready to interrogate you about why you were so quiet today in class and why it looked like you were crying before class. But before he can continue with his rambling you broke down crying in front of him which immediately shut him up as he froze.

“Woah hey are you okay?” He grabs ahold of your shoulder as he leans his head down to get a good look at your face since you were facing down.

“Azul….” The first year immediately knew where this was heading and just pulled you forward in a hug.

“Ugh…I knew this day would come” You smacked his chest.

“Not now you Jackass”

“Oh! This is how you treat someone who’s trying to comfort you?!”

“Well you aren’t doing a good job at it!” He gasps in mock offense.

“Well excuse me for not meeting your expectations!” You both stayed silent before breaking into a fit of laughter. Ace hugs you tightly one last time before letting you go.

“But seriously I knew this day would come. Azul is an ass and he has ZERO experience in the love department” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“And you do? Didn’t you ghost your ex girlfriend-” He covers your mouth with his hand.

“Anyways! I’m sleeping over tonight. I can’t have you bawling the night before and appearing like a zombie the next day- OW WHAT THE FUCK!?”

“That’s what you get jerk!”

And that's when your moving on from Azul journey begins.

You were grateful to have a friend like Ace. Yes he can be an ass sometimes but when you were dealing with your unrequited love for Azul, he was there to comfort you in the end.

The two of you were close, yes but out of all your friends (minus grim. That’s your son), you were closest to Ace and Deuce.

During this time, you and Ace grew closer together. He would walk you to your classes, carry your bag even though you told him multiple times you’re capable of carrying it yourself, sneak out of his dorm late at night so the two of you can do movie nights, skipping class with him at times so the both of you can just snack on whatever stuff he bought from Sam’s shop.

He was helping you forget about the love you used to have for Azul. And you were grateful for that.

And you don’t know when it happened. But the two of you slowly started falling for each other. And months later, you two started dating.

And for Azul?

Well

He was in shambles

He was busy with some paperwork for the mostro lounge when Floyd suddenly slammed the door to his office wide open as he blurts out the news for him.

“Shrimpy and crabby are together! I saw them being all lovey dovey in the halls! Yuck”

The color drained from his face as he just sat there in complete disbelief.

“Pardon?”

This is impossible! He knew that you liked him. It was obvious! And he also likes you too! So how can you be dating ace?! Ace of all people?!

Now everytime he watches you and Ace walk past in the hallway. Goofing off while the two of you run hand in hand so you wouldn’t be late for class. He watches with deep regret.

Regret that he never was able to show or tell you that he likes you too.

-

[bullet-prooflove]

Misdemeanour: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagged: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @noxytopy @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Bob Dylan - You help Jack to relax after an incident at the hospital leaves him temporarily blind.

Because Of You - Jack realises he's starting to heal in more ways than one after you spend the day taking care of him.

Boston - You reflect on the past after your ex-husband makes an appearance on a trying day.

This God Damn Fucking Day - Jack steps into the fray with things get messy between you and you ex-husband.

Jack doesn’t find Myrna, it becomes a Robby problem when the clock ticks over to seven signalling the end of his shift. He’s got much more pressing issues to attend to, like where his fiancée disappeared to. He pops his head up into Psych but there’s no sign of you.

She left half an hour ago, he’s told, which is a kick in the balls considering you carpooled together.

You’re mad at him he supposes. Ordering you out like that.

It’s something that will resolve itself over the next couple of hours because the truth is you’re not really mad at him, you’re mad at the asshole you’ve just discovered was fucking your sister while she was in his care, the same asshole that fucked you under his care.

That revelation, it’s a lot, he doesn’t blame you for taking off to try and get a little headspace.

He’s already crafting his letter to the ethics committee when he gets the call at home. A number he doesn’t recognises flashes up on his screen and it takes him a sec to pause the game in in the background before he picks up the phone.

“Yea?” He says half distracted.

“This is a collect call from Allegheny County, do you accept the charges?” He pauses then because now he realises maybe you didn’t just take a drive out to your sister’s gravesite after all.

“Yea, I’ll take the charges.” He says setting his laptop town on the coffee table and pinching his brow. “Faye honey, you there?”

“Jack.” You say, your voice frighteningly calm compared to the last time he saw you. “I got arrested and I need you to post bail.”

He rubs his palms over his weary features because this day, it just keeps on giving.

“Did he press assault charges?” He asks you as he pushes up from his seat and heads towards the wall safe, where he keeps a healthy portion of cash alongside your personal documents and your sister’s jewellery.

“Vandalism.” You inform him. “Someone carved the word cunt onto his hood of his car and then took a shit in the front seat after smashing the windows.”

Jack freezes, half way through dialling the code.

“Obviously it wasn’t me but that son of a bitch told them he saw me do it, hence why I’m currently in lock up diagnosing all sorts of bullshit for my cellies.”

“Fuck, I think it might have been Myrna.” He tells you as he opens the safe and starts to count out the bundles from his ‘go bag’ stash. “She was still at large when I left the hospital this morning and she hated him on sight.”

“Wow.” You say digesting this new information. “I gotta be honest I’m not even mad about it, he deserves all the bad shit that comes his way. Literally in this case.”

Jack tries to choke back a laugh as he closes the safe and picks up his backpack to stuff the money inside. He’s glad to hear the humour in your voice because this situation it’s fucked up especially after the day you’ve had.

“Faye honey.” He says after a beat. “You doing ok?”

“Yes, no, maybe…” You respond with a sigh. “I don’t fucking know anymore Jack. I was angry, then I was sad and now I’m ambivalent over the whole thing. I just want to come home, get a shower and sleep for the next three days. I don’t want to deal with anymore of this shit.”

This is your breaking point. He feels that acutely as he cradles the phone under this chin. You don’t have the mental capacity to see beyond this moment right now, not when you’re in the thick of it. Jack does, he knows he implications of this, he can see the fall out clear as day and the intention behind it.

A second-degree misdemeanour, it’s enough to get your medical licence revoked.

That’s the punishment for not playing ball with Richard, he can’t take away Jack but he can take away the other thing you love.

“Can you hang in there for me just a little longer?” He asks you softly. “There’s something I’ve got to do and then I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Sure.” You say despondently, the phoneline beeping to tell you your call time is coming to an end. “Because what’s a couple more hours in this hellhole right?”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[heli0s-writes]

intricate rituals*

a/n: You know how kids pick on each other but it's actually because they like each other? It's like that. 4.7k words. I don't know why this one was so long. I wrote this as a companion piece to slow hands. warnings: fantasizing & masturbation, language, the usual helios sprinkle of angst because Steve. Please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

Judgmental red numbers gleamed from the alarm clock on your beside table. 2:50, it leered like a schoolyard bully, and you could only groan in reply, shoving your pillow over your face and muttering into it a string of unintelligible curse words.

The day stretched too long after you were hit—socked—square in the left orbital. Your skull ached and thrummed, congregating pain at the welt along your brow bone, and beneath all of it, your brain was at once empty and full of insistence.

And although you’d have to be vertical again in about three hours, your nerves were still uneasy, still roiling beneath your skin because adrenaline could be a bitch and a half like that.

You were floating aimlessly in limbo, trying to force-sink into the distance of sleep. Thoughts skated behind the back of your eyes and around your ears, restless fingers twitching beneath blankets. Each time you slipped off, the rug was pulled out beneath your feet and your body jerked awake, leaving your heart racing. Self-sabotage.

You were too tired to attempt a jog, not trusting your sore muscles to maneuver the compound’s wooded perimeter. The best option was the easy route: quick, simple, and only a little offensive. After all, imagination after a certain hour of the night was a dangerous thing but flirting with danger in private was worth it once you could rest after.

Besides, asking Tony for any strange white pill to put you to sleep was perilous at best and fatal at worst, and asking to be gently placed in a sleeper hold by a friend was a one-way ticket to seeing the on-call psychiatrist.

And, anyway, they’d think you were a masochist.

And, well, maybe you were. But that’s not their business.

Maybe you’d like it to be though. Maybe you’d like to see the flutter of interest, the reciprocity, admittance that they were also a little masochistic because who in this line of work isn’t?

Volunteering to get pummeled day in and day out must be diagnosable in the DSM-5 manual. Yeah. At least a few of your teammates are masochistic. You’d bet good money on it.

Bucky, for one. And—oh—wouldn’t his cheekbones look so good bright red? You could cut your palms on those.

Here was the danger with imagination past a certain hour of the night:

Co-ed dormitory style living with a gorgeous cast of characters—all deranged in their own right—but still gorgeous. Lovable despite their many, many flaws. Egregious, maddening flaws.

Some were shared, inhabited by every member like they decided to build homes inside of their neuroses. Martyrdom, obstinacy, the occasional withholding of all worldly pleasures when they thought they deserved deprival—when someone would fuck up unnoticeably on a mission and then self-flagellate inside their mind for days afterwards.

Bucky’s refusal to trust his own instincts sometimes; Tony’s incurable lust for sticking his foot in his mouth like he’s starving for the taste of dirt; Natasha’s quiet, catastrophic need to be useful whether it made her a teammate or an object.

Steve— the basket-case. A whole shitshow marathon of issues all crammed up in his bright blonde head, and it’d get so full it would rush out of him by way of seething rage, reflex reactions, his boot pressed against yours as he’d stare down. His hands curled into boulders, jaw working in slow, powerful movements as clenched and unclenched his teeth.

You couldn’t help but think of it now and again. Imagine him turning all that misplaced anger to good use.

One hand ventured to your thigh, the other crossing over your chest, rubbing up your bicep to your shoulder. There was a knot you couldn’t massage out, that Bucky couldn’t either despite his best efforts. His flesh hand first and then his other hand when he thought a temperature change would help. It whirred by your ear, the plates shifting like bee song.

You could hear yourself hum lightly at the memory. It felt nice—smooth, cool, heavy. The weight of his curled fist as he kneaded, the strength in his fingers he was always holding back, even more so as he worked over the delicate skin near your neck. You didn’t shudder then, but you began to.

He’d probably laugh if you did. Roll his eyes even though he’d be pleased about it.

And excuse you for being like everyone else in the world who’d ever seen Bucky Barnes and his arm in action.

You might just say, shut up, just touch me, and he would. Touch up your neck, thumb propped at the base of your skull, the rest of his fingers around your throat where he’d drum out the beat of an old 40’s song.

And then Steve began emerging from darkness along with a couch, cheek propped on his fist, watching lazily. It was indigo all around him. Just a lamp somewhere in the corner making the side of his pale face warm orange.

Guess three’s not a crowd in your book—

Shut up, Bucky.

His hand was still on your neck, but you’d gotten in his lap, thighs spread until your legs were on the outside of his. He’d lost his shirt and landed on the couch next to Steve, who asked, petulantly, I’m here to watch?

You weren’t sure. You didn’t expect your own half-awake mind trying to reason itself out of a sex fantasy. Not when Bucky was shirtless beneath you, slightly tanned skin displaying a scatter of freckles like the time he ventured to the tropics and came back with a grin lasting almost two weeks.  

But Steve was expecting an answer and the critical eyebrow high on his forehead repeated the question: I’m here to watch?

Apropos of nothing except being 85% shut down, you replied with, you hit me today, and fell forward into Bucky’s arms. It was sullen and Bucky snickered, pressing his nose into the dip between your collarbones, a kiss somewhere nearby.

I didn’t mean to, Steve said cooly, still unamused.

Oh yes he did. Bucky touched you again, the webbing between thumb and forefinger beneath your breast for a second before he tweaked a nipple. Your toes curled slightly, chest jolting upward, and Bucky confirmed, masochist.

Steve perched his elbows on knees, leaning forward. One hand reached out, stroked the tapering edge of your eyebrow down to your cheekbone. His face was sweet, pleased, mischief cutting across his features. He pressed his finger down just a fraction, made your bruise sore with it, and the sweetness in his face glinted sharply.

Okay, he said, what else do you want?

He pressed down again and a handful of Steve’s flashed past as you exhaled. All those glimpses of him in various phases of his life, light-speed. There were suspenders and pressed white shirts too large for him. There was short hair and ballcaps and aviators. The way his shoulders hunched as he made himself invisible in a crowd. Captain suits in bright blue, then dark blue, and finally the deep night of the stealth number, material of tough neoprene and dull and sturdy across his chest. His hair was long flipped out at the ends. His beard grew and then shortened in length.

You couldn’t decide what else.

He was standing and then he was sitting. He leaned back on one elbow, sprawled like a Greek statue on a chaise lounge.

He was behind Bucky, arms coming to rest on either side of his neck, hands hanging limply forward, palm up, as if coaxing you closer, pressing Bucky tight in the middle until he huffed with discomfort.

Guess three is a crowd in your book.

Bucky disappeared and Steve came forward until he was flush against you.

In my dress uniform, really?

He sat with his thighs spread, contemplating your choice of Steve. His hair was slicked back, the high collar of his dress shirt starched and cupping his sharp, gorgeous jaw.

He was a garbled assemblage of an old photo in olive-green military wear. His blue eyes sparkled with attentiveness. He looked down his chest at the ribbons you were sure were incorrect, but they approximated something official. The jacket was starched and crisp, slacks well-pressed and fitted nicely.  

You liked the idea of him young, hopeful, and—smiling.

He placed his hands on your biceps before moving to your waist, stretching his fingers as far as he could to snare you. The fabric of your white button-up crinkled between your body and his. Three top buttons were undone, your breasts spilling out.

Steve’s hair was a mess, like it’d been yanked at fiercely. His mouth was wet and red and he was pawing at your back, rolling his hips upward until your groins met. His voice was rumbling and stuttery, brows together and cheeks rosy.

He stopped moving, only looking up at you with enormous eyes like a dog waiting for a command— which he’d never, ever looked like before. Panting as he caught his breath, he took a labored gasp, pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and asked.

Ma’am?

Oh. God help you.

There he was in all his glory, one foot into martyrdom and the other still in boyhood. Before everything crashed and burned and he was still clumsy with it. Just a bright, beaming thing pleading for  you to notice his light.

He began to fumble, hardly used to his body and so different than how you’ve seen him hurl himself through the air head-fucking-first because he was always ready to die on some hill or another.

He was shy, worrying his gorgeous mouth into a small line as he looked and looked. Over your face, down your neck, your chest, the mismatched set of underclothes you were still dressed in—and he stared at it entranced as if you were some kind of centerfold.

Like he ever would—but your brain was an electrified lump of meat, so dream-Steve could forgive it for irrationality.

But you were still sane enough to feel guilty about it because he was 24, and in a flash of genius engineering, he’d be weary beyond all his days.

Which hurt, which was stupid, which was really killing your whole endeavor.

You couldn’t do it with the thought of him careening into war at 20-something and couldn’t even worse with the thought of him, terrified and alone, the same giant, blue eyes searching the modern world for a sliver of recognition only 7 years later.

So your fingers halted between your legs, letting his nervous, boyish face shimmer away into the back of your mind.

Your eyes opened back up. The clock taunted 3:15, sizzling fuchsia.

You closed your eyes again.

The numbers shifted, rearranged until they were two curved lines and Steve’s mouth was there, hovering over yours, and he’d grown up some—you could see it in the pallid sheen of his skin, the creases in his face that were less from age and more from suffering. He waited, saying nothing.

There was supposed to be a lot you could do here. All manners of debauched acts to imagine— involving rope and whip and raking your nails down his back until your name burned in his throat, his considerable figure reduced to a tremble as he ached for you.

But you couldn’t, because suddenly the agony of not being able to sleep pivoted into a strange, new turn of events. From wanting to touch yourself to wanting nothing more than jumping into a lake to erase the turmoil his big, blue eyes roused in you, you struggled on a little longer, peeking around his haloed head of blonde, faint light behind him like a corona.

No? He drew one eyebrow up toward his hairline, his full pink lips quirking into a smirk. Not doing it for you? Why’s that?

You put a hand over his mouth, but dream logic was in no mood to be silenced, and Steve’s voice crept up in your ears anyway. No matter how much you wanted to shut him down, to push him away, he remained.

The truth, soldier. He tipped his head and looked at you past long, dark lashes. Give it to me straight.

-

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was gravelly.

You rubbed your eyes, wincing. 4 A.M. approached while you were still caught in a loop in bed—drifting, then jerking awake, nauseated with each new scenario.

Finally, it had been enough. You couldn’t force a thing that wouldn’t arrive, and so you trudged to the training room with your water bottle and forgot shoes along the way.

“Just need to get my mind off things,” you replied, and swatted weakly at a punching bag.

Steve was still wrapping his knuckles because he would always have more foresight than you do and watched you from the corner of his eye. You tapped at the leather, jabbing one-two, one-two, until it began to sway marginally wider, the link chain holding the bag rattling like windchimes.

You wished he wasn’t in the gym. You could feel him in the corner of your mind, a presence that sensed you as much as you sensed it, that weighed heavily, waiting.

“You’ll split them open.”

You jumped in surprise and then it only took a few steps before he was in front of you, hand outstretched with the wrap.

“I’m fine,” you protested, but his mouth was a thin straight line that didn’t need to emit any words. He’d just nag until you gave up. Then he’d throw you onto the wrestling mat and call it a lesson.

Maybe you were cranky.

“I can do it myself,” you attempted, but he ignored it steadfastly, focused on pulling your fingers apart.

“Sure, you could.”

You shifted your weight, “You think I’d fuck it up or something.”

“I think you’d do it clumsy. Think it’d be a rush job.”

He secured the loop onto your thumb before tugging it over the back of your wrist. You watched his fingers, wrapped up skillfully, as they turned and twisted around yours. For all his calluses, he was handling you delicately, and it was all too strange.

Sweat beaded along his brow, his pink cheeks from an earlier warm-up were settling the longer he stood still. He wasn’t making eye contact even as you ducked to find his gaze. It felt like part of an apology.

Nothing passed but his breath and yours, both awkwardly out of their regular tempo. You knew why you were being so weird, but couldn’t guess a damn what reason he would have.

Suddenly, he said, “If I pulled my punches in practice, it would skew your perception in the field.”

You deliberated this information, and the way he offered it up. Like he was bringing you a precious relic you’d be grateful to receive. What an honor. The stinging aftermath of his bones against your bones.

“So this,” you tilted your face forward, showing him where his forearm landed this morning and the pulp of your skin that ice, for fifteen minutes after, did nothing for, “This is a favor?”

He frowned, something complicated skittering across his face.

After a minute, which was quite a long time for Steve to meditate when you were obviously baiting him, he said, “It’s a warning. Enemies won’t go easy on you. I can’t either, even if I wanted to. It’s my job to make sure you’re prepared for whatever is coming next. It’s my job to bring you back home.”

“That’s nice—"

He cut you off, firm. “That’s the truth.”

The truth.

You felt it with your entire chest as Steve stood there, attention fixed upon your hand, his own circling your wrist and palm and then between the sensitive webbing of your fingers with diligence.

A lock of hair fell over his forehead, obscured one eye, and when he looked up behind it in wait of your reply with that open, honest expression, you gulped.

The truth, he asked in your dream— that he seemed to be wanting now wordlessly. That you’d been punching down every morning and night because it was so simple, and excruciating.

The truth was, you were stupid for him. And just stupid, in general, because you could never tell him. Because he was Steven Grant Rogers, for fuck’s sake. He was stunning and tortured and you wanted to die sometimes, just looking at him because you didn’t know how else to express it.

Because there wasn’t a world where you could step up to Steve, stare down the magnum opus of his monumental hero’s journey and feel like you could be a contender for a single, sad crumb of his attention. 

And yet you could never quite help yourself.

The truth:

Sometimes you’d do it to get his hands on you—to motivate him, to have him spare a single glance your way. Screw up the training exercise just so he’d spend an extra hour beating the drill into you.

Because outside of your private quarters and battered-tired imagination, when would he ever?

Because short of begging him to touch you, when would he ever?

The baiting. The backtalk. Challenging him at every turn. You were a spiraling addict, grabbing any high within your reach.

Hell, you were just as deranged as the rest of them. DSM-5, eat your heart out.

He dropped your hands, finished, and brought his thumb up to your temple where the welt throbbed under his pulse. “There,” he said. Almost silent, almost like you imagined it.

Then between one heartbeat and the next, his lips parted, bottom one pulled in almost imperceptibly— and— fuck, you didn’t understand a damn thing.

You made a noise like a fish out of water and he rubbed the back of his broad neck, craning his sight to the high ceiling. When he turned back down, he was soft at his edges, the tired years on his face placated.

“I know what you’re doing. You don’t think I know?”

You were nearly sure you were still in bed, and the fantasy was turning on its head, coming up absurdist and you were ready, nowpleasegod, to wake up.

“Pickin’ fights in alleyways since I could throw a punch. Why’d you think so?”

You sputtered, because you’re a ham-fisted, sleep-deprived, single-minded moron, “Because you’re a glutton for punishment?”

Steve snorted. “Like you are?”

You could feel the burn of agony twist its way up your neck, the way fact exposes itself when there’s no other cowardly avenue to run down. He watched, his sea-glass eyes stormy and insistent, and the lights of the compound gym were like stage spotlights now, white, and localized.

You found interest in your feet, because you were still missing shoes, and Steve followed the path and saw your toes curled up tight like hiding themselves.

“Jesus,” he huffed with dismay.

“I was tired. Am. Still tired.”

 “Go back to sleep.”

“I tried. Why do you think I’m here? Have you ever seen me here?” You swept your arm out toward the abundance of equipment that have not yet been acquainted with even your shadow.

“Now that you mention it,” he replied.

“Not once—my god, Rogers, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“Hey,” he said, because you were doing that horrible, compulsive, nervous-tic conflict thing again, and this time he put his hand on your shoulder and it was warm.

Your skin crooned his name.

“What. Are you doing.” Your throat was bone dry.

He stepped closer—not a dream, he was real, he was there, he was breathing your hair and touching your shoulder—and he dipped his head down, in wait.

“Oh,” your mouth decided sentences were beyond its means. “O-oh.”

“That a yes? Or no.” He moved to step away, his serious expression fluttering into embarrassment, and then guilt, and then you were doing an aerobatic move between a hop and a hurdle to reach for his face.

Teeth clicked, and you winced. He didn’t seem to mind, only stabilizing you with one hand on your neck and the other at your hip. His lips were full, hot, like there was a pulse in his mouth that was trying to overcome yours. He towered, not just in height, but—you couldn’t describe it. Your head was swirling, dizzy.

“You haven’t had any water today,” he murmured—and what kind of psycho would say that during a kiss.

“Do you mind?” you grabbed at his hair, “I’m trying to—” You kissed him some more, your brain a fluttering, ecstatic mess. You shivered when he licked your tongue, fisted his collar when he made a huff—a moan—and then he was gone, a faint hiss between his teeth and his eyes burning darkly.

You wanted to fall down to the gym floor, take him tumbling with you, hands impatient and wild as you felt for each other. Up t-shirts and down waistbands, tongues sloppy and missing each other, leaving lines of spit along chins and necks.

It felt silly—stupid, reckless, fantastic—but it was damn good. Like two kids figuring out their bodies for the first time. So natural and luxurious that you could literally fall forward into him, let him do everything. Strip you naked in the damn gym, fold you in half atop some mats, over a bench, leave marks down your spine and up your throat. Curl himself so deep you could feel him in your mind for days after—you wanted it all.

He was laughing a little bit, the creases of his eyes lit with joy as he weaved left and right, getting all the right angles to mouth at you with. He pawed and squeezed and sighed as he touched you, feeling every inch. He was excited, and it kind of killed you to know—made your belly swelter and clench with pride.

You rolled your hips lazily into his, and he backed up until he found a bench to sit down on, pulling you by the hand, the wrap yanking open and unspooling onto the floor.

“This okay?” He asked.

You made a low, pained sound.

“Hey,” he said, and you blinked at how concerned he was. He steadied your shoulders, his long fingers comforting and heavy. “You okay?”

You yawned, and when you looked at him again, he was confused. And he was standing.

You couldn’t keep up. You looked down dumbly at your empty hands. He was just there.

Oh, gods.

Steve was standing—at the punching bag, not sitting on a bench with you between his thighs. And the wrap that had unspooled from your left hand was limply hanging from your right, the necessary supplies in a bag next to your foot.

You went ice cold.

You wobbled and caught yourself, because you were standing in the middle of the gym idly, realizing that you’d spent the last 10 minutes losing yourself in a fever dream about Steve.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” you said too quickly, recoiling when he side-stepped from his position to head toward you. Your knees trembled, the place between your thighs warm and clenching madly on nothing.

“You don’t look okay.”

“You’re… worried about me?”

Steve narrowed his eyes and said “yes”, like you were stupid. But then he breathed soft, and looked so much like that fantasy you’d conjured up a few seconds ago, that you turned and made ready to bolt.

He caught your wrist.

“I need to—” he began firmly. “You need to listen--”

But you didn’t. You licked your lips because he was so close and you were insane with want for him, and he stopped dead in his tracks for a split second, eyes tracking your mouth and the short, puffs of air that your chest was pushing out without you meaning it to. Just quick huffs as you bit down on your lip to make yourself quiet and small and unseen.

Steve swallowed. He said something almost silent and it sounded like sorry before he leaned forward and caught your mouth with his.

He sighed into it. Breathed into it. He placed one hand on the small of your back and pressed your entire body to him, and you moaned like he tore it out of you.

And this time, it was real. The two of you scrambled for each other, heaving and loud.

He took you to the floor, only took another few impatient, hotheaded licks of his tongue and then he was inside of your shirt, his mouth sucking round, wet brands up between your breasts.

You bucked up to get closer, and he sank down, licking and sucking and all ten of his fingers dug into your hips and waist.

“Shit,” he said.

“Uggnnn,” you replied eloquently before your better judgement pivoted and decided to swipe at reason. “What’s—“

“You make me fucking crazy.” Steve rushed out.

“Fair,” you gasped when he began rolling his hips against yours. ��Feeling’s mutual—oh, what are you doing--”

He only answered with more of it, and harder, up and down, his forehead pressed to yours—his entire body, really, pressed like he wanted to swallow you whole.

It went on for eternity, it felt like, the two of you messy and starved, every second of contact a half-fight, half-resignation. Between the rushing blood in your head and the high-pitched ringing of excitement, there was a relief, like your skin was singing finally, oh god, finally.

Steve, above you, was smiling—was happy—almost as if he felt the same.

-

“Next time just say something,” you said, when you could finally breathe again.

“Like what?” He wiped his forehead. You did that to him.

You sputtered, the taste of his tongue still in your mouth, “Like—just don’t hit me so hard. And don’t say you have to.”

He opted to say nothing instead, only rolling his eyes, and you found the perfect opportunity to continue pestering. “Do you ever pull your punches? Could you maybe try?”

He only grinned with that wet, red mouth, and his eyes flicked down to you like a challenge. “I hold myself back more often than you think.”

“Name one time you held back from anything.”

His lips pressed together, a smile squirting out of the corners as he looked at his bare feet, toes flexed against the mat. His lashes were fluttering as he pondered, looking so shy and mischievous all at once.

“Just now.”

“Now?”

Beneath your collarbone, the bruise Steve sucked into your skin stung with embarrassment. The sound you made when he did it should be burned out from all memory. You had to beg him to stop, you could have cried.

“I had it all wrong. I thought you might have liked getting bossed around in bed, but you’re a sadist, Rogers.”

“No, no. You can boss me around.” He paused, “Maybe. You can try, go ahead.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, try.” And if you were to look up the definition of shit-eating, annoying, and contrary-bastard-even-more-so-than-yourself, you’d find his smug as sin picture.

“I need to go to sleep— team captain, my ass. Don’t you care about my well-being, Rogers? What even is your refractory period?”

“Don’t have one.”

Your brain was a watery 7-11 slushie, and instead of saying anything comprehensible back, you only babbled.

Just then, the gym doors slid open and both of you were on your feet like someone had been shooting them.

Natasha looked you up and down. From the crumpled bedclothes to the unruly hair and then to your mouth, which was slightly open and catching your breath. She narrowed her eyes, glanced over to where Steve stood leaned on the wall, shuffling his feet in an attempt to sort out his sweatpants.

She made to remark something else but then Bucky sidled up wearing nothing but basketball shorts and grey socks.

“It’s ass o’clock,” he complained loudly. “Why are any of you awake. Never mind, Steve you’re a degenerate. You wake up at 4. I was having a great dream, then Nat drags me up, then you’re already here? You fucking animals.”

“Hm, a dream?” Nat drawled, “Anyone I know?”

She flicked his chin already knowing entirely too fucking much.

“Can’t remember the details,” Bucky turned to you offhandedly before recognition lit in his eyes. “Oh,” he chirped, leering. “I remember now.” He wolf whistled, muttered, “Hello nurse,” and rubbed his palms together like he was warming them up.

You backed up, covering as much of your body as possible with two hands, and bumped your ass into Steve, dick-first, who cleared his throat loudly.

Nat only cackled.