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runa-falls · 5 months

Text

my turn

part 1 | part 2

pairing: marc spector x reader (a bit of steven grant x reader)

summary: marc has had enough of watching you take advantage of steven and not him...

cw: smut (18+), voyeurism, masturbation, rough sex, dirty talk, degrading words, pining omg so much pining, angst, creampie, fluff?, ft. steven

wc: 3.4k

a/n: long time coming (cumming) -- i just realized i barely have marc fics so hopefully this holds up to expectations!

masterlist

----

You know Marc. But you wouldn't necessarily say that you're friends. And even if you were, you're definitely not 'friendly' with him the way you are with Steven.

If you were to ask him though, it wasn't for the lack of trying.

Since you've met Steven, Marc has merely been a shadow behind him, stopping in to check on Steven's personal life every so often before disappearing again.

What you aren't aware of, though, is that the only time he trifles in Steven's life is when he gets to see you.

Usually, Marc is uninterested in the daily life of his other half.

Steven wakes up, catches (or misses) the bus, gets to work, grabs some food on the way home, then calls it a day. It's a bland routine that Marc set up specifically to make sure that Steven is safe and sane. So, of course, when there's a change, Marc starts to pay attention.

Suddenly, out of the blue, you're everywhere.

A smile in the background of Steven's phone, a sticky note on the fridge reminding him to get more blueberries, and the oversized sweater you leave on the armchair one day that Steven steals whenever you're away.

He has no idea how you came into the picture, how he's never noticed you, or how Steven of all people captured your attention.

All he knows is that Steven is fumbling. Hard.

Marc had no idea what the nature of your relationship was until he had a front row ticket to one of your friendly favors.

---

Steven isn't subtle about his feelings. Anytime he's exceptionally scared or excited, Marc is called forward by his subconscious mind just in case he's in danger.

Usually, Marc is forced to front when Steven is about to burn his flat down from his nth attempt at cooking, or when he nearly walks into a busy intersection because he has his nose stuck in a book. But he never expected this.

He knew you liked to baby Steven. Take care of him because he had no one else to turn to (except Gus of course), but he just assumed you were being friendly, a kind soul willing to take Steven under your wing.

Nothing could have prepared him for when he woke up to the sight of you on your knees in front of him. It's odd being in the back seat of his body while Steven is getting all of your attention. He can feel everything, from the way your soft lips brush so sweetly against his cock to the hot suction of your mouth, but there's something that's holding him back from taking what he wants.

He wants so badly to bury his hand in your hair and push you down onto him until you're making a mess of yourself, eyes welling with pretty tears and drool dripping down your chin. He needs to tell you what a good girl you're being for him, so desperate for his cock in your throat. He wants to pick you up and carry you over to the bed to show you just how beautiful you are.

He wants you to look up and know it's him.

But he can't. Because who knows when this development started.

You acted platonically just the other day, and now, you're begging for Steven to cum on your tits.

What are you to each other?

If interferes now and messes this up for Steven, you might leave their lives altogether. Damn, how have you lured him into your clutches without even talking to him?

For all he knows, it could be a one-off thing...

---

It's decidedly not a one-off thing.

Marc has barely had the chance to front since the first time you made a move on Steven. You're always coming over, whether it's a spontaneous movie night or an offer to cook Steven some dinner, you always find a way to slither your way back into his bed. Not that Steven minds.

But Marc does.

With each fumbling move that Steven makes, Marc gets pushed closer to the edge. He could do it so much better. Make it clear that you're wanted. Give you the pleasure you deserve.

He cringes inside with every wary arm that gets thrown over your shoulder during a movie (one of Steven's signature moves to get you to cuddle -- somehow it works, every time). With the messy, unpracticed kisses that Steven haphazardly presses against your sweet lips.

He physically holds himself back from taking control of the body whenever you fall asleep in Steven's arms. He wants to hold you, feel your body molded against his, even if you have no idea it's him.

It's painful watching the two of you walk circles around the truth.

"I'm always thinking about you." Just tell her that you like her, you idiot! What is there to be afraid of? She looks at you like you painted the stars and hung the moon!

At this point, he doesn't even know why he tries.

Whenever you're around, Steven has total tunnel vision. He practically follows you around like some lost puppy. He lets sweet words spill from his lips without even thinking first and you lap up any type of affection he'll give you.

It's a vicious cycle of obliviousness.

Steven is a lost cause. But he isn't.

He can't take it anymore. He can't take waking up with a lingering taste of you on his tongue, or seeing your lovesick smile directed at someone else. He can't take the way you treat him like a stranger, like someone to avoid.

He wants you. So he's going to show you.

---

It's been a long day.

Marc's been out, jumping on top of roofs and kicking ass, all while Steven's 'sweetheart' blows up his phone.

Marc narrows his eyes, shuffling through all the smiley faces and hearts that litter your messages (and the thumbs up messages from Steven).

This book made me think of you <3

A cute little picture of you holding a book next to your face stares back at him, painting his face in a soft glow as he stands in the darkness of the night. He wants to crush the device in his hand.

Call me when you get home safe :)

You know exactly where Marc is right now, and what his life consists of, but you always avoid talking about him directly. You're always just waiting for Steven to come home so he can sleepily tell you he's back in bed and give you the green light to come over and snuggle your face into his chest.

Marc likes to think that he makes measured decisions, but what he does next is completely out of character:

Come over.

---

He's a little impatient, sitting on his worn couch as he waits for you to show up. You said you'd be 20 minutes, but it's been 30 since he texted you.

Sory thought the cookies would be done earlier! I'm otw now!

Your hastily typed out text blinks up from the forgotten phone that lies next to him. He read the sheepish reply when you sent it, but didn't bother to text back because of course you baked cookies for Steven.

He's starting to regret tricking you over. All he can think about is the inevitable rejection he'll get once you realize he's not Steven.

Marc leans back against the collection of overstuffed pillows and (your) gifted squish-mallows that decorate the couch, not caring that he's taking up as much space as possible. Flashes of your time with Steven override his doubts, reminding him of the softness that only you can provide.

He doesn't even realize he's unbuttoning his pants until his hand slips himself out of his briefs. Fuck, he's already so hard just thinking about you.

He doesn't want to get himself too worked up so he attempts to take it slow, stroking and squeezing himself until he's teetering at the edge, pretending that it's your hand instead of his. He quickly gets lost in the feeling, floating in a euphoric dream of you and your touch. It isn't until he hears the door click open that he returns to reality.

You're here. The thought alone nearly makes him spill over himself.

"Steven!"

-- And he's good.

"I'm here--oof," He hears you run into a kitchen stool, "why is it so dark in here?"

He should shove himself back into his pants and greet you like a normal human being, but some sick thing inside of him wants you to see what you do to him.

You place a container of freshly baked cookies on the counter with a smile, satisfied with your work and excited to see him try one. You've been working on a new vegan snickerdoodle recipe just for him.

A sweet treat for your sweet treat. You nearly giggle at your thoughts.

You take a second to smooth down any wrinkles on your dress, desperate to look nice for him. Steven has no idea how obsessed with him you are. You want him all the time. You're constantly craving to coax out soft whines and stutters from your favorite boy.

You look around the dim flat.

Where the hell is he?

Usually you'd find him in front of his makeshift desk, sprawling through various books under a harsh lamp, but tonight his spot is empty.

A soft grunt guides you to the couch, your usual movie night spot. No way he's starting without you.

"Ah, there you are." You're slightly put out that he doesn't move to greet you, but maybe Marc's mission just took a particularly harsh toll on his body.

It's only when you're standing at the side of the couch that he meets your eyes. And you meet his...hard cock, desperately throbbing in his hand. What a sight. Your eyes nearly glaze over at the sight of his mussed hair and laid back positioning.

He just looks up at you, casually. He's been expecting you. He wants you to watch him. It makes it that much more delicious.

He doesn't shy back at your presence. If anything, he sits up to give you a better view. His hand moves methodically -- controlled, stroking himself from tip to base as his half-lidded eyes stare straight back at you.

His dark look and posture nearly make him unrecognizable. It's not just the clothes he's wearing, or the 5 o'clock shadow, but the way he furrows his eyebrows and grips himself so confidently, like he does it all the time.

You shake off the odd feeling settling in your stomach and move over to him with the practiced grace that usually makes him weak in the knees for you.

"Mm...Steven...you're quite needy right now, aren't you?"

He raises a dark eyebrow, briefly squeezing himself in his hand as he unabashedly takes in your figure, draped in a soft dress. He's not backing down like you're used to. At this point, he's supposed to be begging for you to touch him, not staring you down like you're a piece of meat.

"M'not Steven, sweetheart." His voice makes you freeze in front of him and all of the confidence you once held rushes out of your body.

"M-marc?"

A cynical smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You remember me?"

You capture your bottom lip into your mouth, holding yourself back from crawling on top of him and skipping the conversation. The dark and intense version of your lover is serving himself up on a silver platter, and all you can do is watch.

"Why wouldn't I?" He shrugs.

You can tell he's enjoying this, watching you squirm uncomfortably as he teases himself right in front of you. He touches himself like it's an afterthought, something to simply accompany the sight of you.

"W-where's Steven? I was supposed to meet him here..."

"I'm the one who texted you."

You freeze, not knowing what to do.

He wants you here?

He wants you?

"You...?"

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna be a good girl for me like you are with Steven?"

What would Steven think?

"I-I don't know..."

"C'mon, you're always dying to suck him off."

Your face flushes at his bluntness. Are you that obvious?

A hand comes up to hold you by the waist before you're pulled closer to him. He looks up at you, eye-level with your chest, looking as predatory as ever, despite his position under you.

"What's the difference, hm?" He slides a warm hand under the hem of your dress, gently caressing the bare skin of your outer thigh. "It's the same body on top of you. The same cock stretching you out..." You shiver when you feel his fingers tease the edge of your panties, the deep red lace you picked out specially for Steven. "...even the same cum filling you up."

You look down, mesmerized by the way his hand moves under the thin fabric of your dress. You watch his shrouded arm pull at the fabric until it barely brushes at your upper thigh as his hand slides up over the softness of your stomach and the dips of your ribs, before stopping at the curve of your breast.

"You want this."

It's not a question, it's a statement. And he's right.

He watches your eyes flutter close as he cups you in his hand. Despite the heat in his eyes, he handles you so softly. Like you're a porcelain doll in his hands. It's a familiar touch, but there's a hint of something more.

"Steven..." You breathe out. It's said out of habit. This feeling inside of you has only been associated with one person. It's always been him. But now, a whole other side of yourself is opening up.

You quickly realize your mistake when his grip tightens around your waist and on your breast, demanding your attention.

"No." His voice is low, "Not him."

"M-marc."

He hums and rewards you with a teasing flick of his thumb over your nipple. You're disappointed when his touch suddenly leaves you, but before you can complain, he begins to work his pants all the way off.

"Don't worry about him, sweetheart." He pulls you close enough that you nearly fall over him, causing you to straddle his lap and sit chest-to-chest. "Tonight's about us." The skirt of your dress falls around your thighs, shielding the way his length presses against your inner thigh.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, flustered by the feeling of his hot body against yours, at the idea that this is really happening.

You breathe in once. Is that..?

And then, once again.

He smells like him.

"You good, baby?" He rubs over the tops of your thighs comfortingly while subtly shoving your skirt up to your waist.

"Mhm..." You hum against his skin, relishing in the feeling of his embrace. You experimentally push your hips against his, grinding your needy center against his. He groans at the contact and cants his hips upwards, forcing you to feel just how hard he is.

Your cunt pulses in desperation as he continues to rut against your clothed clit. You're nearly soaking through your underwear with how wet you are. And by the way he groans against you, he can tell.

An eager hand shoves between your bodies to shove your panties to the side. "Need to feel you." He drags a finger against you, spreading your slick until it runs down the palm of his hand. "Fuck. You're so ready for me."

"P-please." It's a hushed whisper against his shoulder, but he hears it loud and clear.

"Please, what?" He pushes you back, forcing you to look at him as he lines himself up. Heat pricks at the tops of your cheeks before you cast your eyes downwards.

Is he really going to make you say it?

"M-marc." You whimper as he brushes the tip of his cock through the seam of your cunt, covering himself with your lust. He mouths at your neck, ignoring your pleas by keeping himself busy sucking bites and bruises into your skin. "Please, fuck me, Marc."

He barely gives you a second before he's pushing in with a single fluid motion. The feeling is indescribable. How can he share a body with Steven, but make this feel so different?

"So big..." You gasp out, thighs trembling around his.

"Taking me so well, baby. Just let me in."

He pushes up until you're filled to the brim, drawing out a broken moan from your lips. The stretch is exquisite in this position. You feel like you've never felt anyone as deeply as he is right now.

As soon as he's sure you're comfortable, he starts moving, grinding up against you until you're looping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. You're mewls fill the room as his cock drags perfectly against your slick walls. You arch your back and start moving over him, desperate to feel him entirely.

He watches you bounce on his lap, timing his movements so his thrusts meet yours.

"Such a greedy slut aren't you?" His harsh words are punctuated with sharp thrusts, causing you to clench around him involuntarily. The sensation almost leaves him breathless, but he continues talking through gritted teeth. "You couldn't get enough from Steven, hm?"

His pants turn into rough grunts as he speeds up. He thrusting into you like he's taking revenge, like he's proving that he's the piece that's been missing from your life.

You shake your head, "Need b-both."

"Yeah, you do. Always so desperate to be filled by this cock." He holds you in place and begins to viciously thrust up into you.

"O-oh-!" He's hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You can't help the way your mouth gapes at the toe curling sensation.

Everything around you quickly fades away and all you can see, hear, and feel is him. You can't even articulate anything when pure ecstasy blooms in your core and permeates throughout your body.

You seize in his hold as he continues to roll his hips against yours, feeling boneless from the pleasure that hums through every nerve. He groans at the flutter of your walls around him, gripping him so tight in your warmth. He can barely get out a handful of thrusts before he's spilling inside of you.

You're a mess on top of him, soaking his lap in a mixture of the two of you. Your hair sticks to your face and neck, but it doesn't matter when you can still feel him pulsing inside of you.

Your eyes flutter open as a gentle hand caresses your jaw and guides you to lean in.

You meet vulnerable eyes framed by dark lashes.

He takes a breath, like he's bracing for the worst, but he doesn't have the chance to let it go before you're pressing your lips against his.

---

You sleep like a rock. It's almost like no time has passed. Why dream when you have everything you want right in front of you?

Or behind you, that is.

You can already tell it's Steven with the way he nuzzles himself against the back of your neck. "G'mornin', darling." He's adorable with his roughened groggy voice.

"Hi, baby." He curls up at the pet name and holds you closer, already flustered before he has fully woken up. You can tell it takes him a few moments to blink the sleep away because suddenly he's stiff against you (and not in a good way).

"W-what. What happened?"

You sigh, "Marc happened."

"Did he hurt you? Oh my god," He pushes away to get a better view, "was he mauling your neck?!"

"Steven, it's fine." You feel your face warm up at the thought of the night before. "I...kinda liked it."

Steven huffs to himself as his thumb lightly brushes over a particularly obvious bruise on your neck, "He's trying to steal my girlfriend."

You nearly choke on yourself, "G-girlfriend?"

"Yes...? I mean, you are, right? Unless," Steven's eyes widen, "I-uh, didn't mean to assume--"

"No, Steven. I-I'd love to be your girlfriend."

#marc spector smut #marc spector x reader #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight

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yeorisanaxox · 3 months

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ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ➤ ᴄᴜᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋs

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ᴡ ᴏᴛ8 x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛʟʏ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴɢsᴛ

. ➬sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ: ᴄᴜᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋs

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ɴᴏɴᴇ *ɪꜰ ʟᴏᴡᴇʀᴄᴀsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ*

ɴᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇs ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴘᴏsᴛs! ɪ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛʟʏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ :)

ღhongjoong. You knew when he was frustrated— the sound his pen made, scribbling aggressively over whatever was displeasing him before starting a new page. And the process would repeat until he was too frustrated to even look at his work and bury his face in his palms. Right now he was beating himself up and letting every doubt torment him until tears.

Your hand suddenly touches his shoulder while the other gently pries his hands away from his face and you're met with those glossy eyes. Another tear escapes them as your hands gently cup his cheeks, wiping them away.

“Take a break sweetie. Come lay down for a bit.” You say more like a question, hoping that he would agree. He swallowed down a sob that was burning in his throat, “but—”

“It will all be here waiting when you come back. I promise.”

It was a short moment before he gave in and let you pull him away from his work and onto the studio couch where he realized the second he was in your arms, how exhausted he really was and dozed off not even a second later.

ღseonghwa. The duality of this man was truly unreal. On stage he put on the persona of the most intimidating being created versus off stage and how he was now, curled up underneath your pink blanket that had my melody all over it with his nintendo switch nestled in his hands, playing animal crossing. You never did understand how to play but seeing him so immersed, you weren’t sure if he was aware how close the device was to his face.

“Hwa?”

He hums in response, still looking at the screen, leaving you to have to reach over and cup his cheek and turn him to you. His eyes widened at the action, taken completely off guard. You can only laugh at how adorable he looked and booped his nose.

“The screen was too close. Don’t want you to hurt your eyes.” You tell him and rest your hand back in your lap.

“Oh.” Is all he said but you noted when he lowered the device from his face and went back to the game with a fainted blush that he was trying to bite back.

ღyunho. It was just a prank you had seen on tiktok and wanted to try on him. Walking up to him at mid bite of him stuffing another spoonful of froot loops in his mouth, he pauses when you suddenly put your palm out in front of him. Wiping the trickle of milk off his chin, looking between you and it, trying to piece together exactly what you wanted. Your fingers wiggled around boredly in the air like they were waiting and him not knowing what to do, subconsciously leans forward and places his chin in your palm.

Your instant cooing startles him a bit before he’s nervously laughing at the situation at hand.

“Is that what you wanted?”

ღyeosang. Is the kindest, most gentle soul to ever grace mankind, sometimes you can’t help but to just stare in awe at how politely he’d covered his mouth while laughing or smile shyly whenever the guys would tease him. Sometimes even turning to you with a pout for help. You’d let him lean his head against your shoulder to hide his burning cheeks, gently cooing at him asyour hands would cup them and rub them with your thumbs to comfort him.

ღsan. Always did become a bit clingy when he was drunk. Needing you to be right by his side and clinging on to you by the arm as he nuzzled his face in your neck.

“I’m not even that drunk.” He mumbles, believing it was more so to himself but you still heard it, giggling when he then hiccups, shaking your body too.

“Oh yeah? Let me see.” Nudging your shoulder to help him sit up a little. He still hugs your arm and beams up at you, making his dimples pop out.

“See—” hiccuping again. You can’t resist cupping his cheek and plant a short but sweet kiss to his cheek.

ღmingi. You believe it was one of those days for him. One of those days where he just couldn’t seem to leave your side. Wherever you went, he was sure to follow, always whining out a tiny ‘wait,’ before latching on to your wrist and going with you. Sometimes just to tease him, you can’t help it because he always reacted too wholesomely when you try to pull away from him.

Those boba eyes seemed to glisten brighter as he pouted, feigning hurt all over. You’d cup his cheeks hastily, pulling his face closer to yours, thumbing over them lovingly.

“Sorry princess, you’re just too precious.”

ღwooyoung. If there wasn’t anything this guy loved more, it was having your attention. You just didn’t understand— on the outside, he liked to portray being unbothered and waving an accusing finger of, “you’re so obsessed with me.” When really on the inside, his heart felt like it was going to beat right out his chest.

And whenever you would cup his cheeks before a kiss, it took every muscle to not cripple at your feet. Such a gentle touch yet it made his head feel so dizzy.

“Kiss me.” He mumbles against your lips, causing you to giggle. “I am kissing you honey.”

“Good.” Pecking your lips again, and again, and again. “Don’t stop.”

ღjongho. As much as you loved your boyfriend, sometimes he could be a menacing little shit. Loving how riled up you’d get from his antics, not stopping until you’re huffing and puffing, and folding your arms at him.

Now he was the one who asked if you could help take his makeup off because he felt too lazy to do it but every time you brought the cotton pad near his eyes, he’d turn his head in the other direction.

First, thinking nothing of it until he did it again a second time and a third time, seeing him bite back a smile. By the fourth and fifth, you firmly grabbed underneath his chin and held him in place. *That went straight to his dick ngl* drawing a smirk of your own, seeing him shift below you uncomfortably.

“Be a good boy and be still.”

“Woof.” He responds clearly turned on.

written by yeorisanaxox. No translations or reposting. Leave a like and reblog w [feedback is much appreciated] ✨

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serpentandlily · 7 months

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Wicked Games II

Dark!BatBoys x Reader (modern au!)

Summary: Desperate to pay off a debt, you decide to break into the penthouse of one of Prythian’s richest males, one rumored to make his money in a less than legal way. But after witnessing something you weren’t supposed to, you find yourself caught in a wicked game of cat and mouse with three of the most dangerous males in Prythian.

Warnings: smut (minors dni pls), dubcon, drugging, violence, dark themes (if you would like more in depth warnings before reading, feel free to message me!)

a/n: thank you guys for the love on part I! Hope you enjoy this one just as much <3

➻❥ Part I

༺♥༻

Part II

༺♥༻

As soon as the shock of seeing Rhysand in your tiny studio apartment wore off, you quickly grabbed your phone off the floor and started to dial 911. Before you could hit the last digit, a large hand yanked your wrist forward and snatched the phone right out of your own hand.

You gaped up at Rhysand as he cruelly smiled at you, snapping the phone into two pieces right in front of your face. He released the broken phone, letting it fall to the floor.

“I don’t think so, darling,” he purred.

You let out a yelp and turned for the door to make your escape but Rhysand grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you back into his hard chest. Your heart skipped a beat, panic now setting in. You were fucked. So fucked.

“Don’t even think about running, little mouse.” His breath ghosted the tip of your ear. “Do you remember my two friends?”

You said nothing, your body freezing subconsciously, as if it knew you were now in the hands of a predator. And a sick, twisted part of you liked it.

“I asked you a question,” he snarled, his hand that was holding you by the back of your neck moved until it wrapped around the front of your throat. He squeezed and you let out a whimper, finding it in you to nod finally.

“Good,” he said, easing up on the pressure. You choked some air in, gasping. “Well, they’re waiting out there for you. So run and you’ll find yourself in their hands, instead. And let me tell you something. I think you’ll find I’m a lot more merciful than they are, darling.”

He twisted you until faced your own apartment and then pushed you forward onto your bed. You crashed into the mattress face first, letting out a curse. You flipped yourself over to see him staring down at you, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“I’ll scream,” you threatened, brushing the hair out of your face.

“Go ahead, darling. I don’t think anyone will care.”

You hated that he was right. No one would care. Not in this neighborhood. Screams, shouts, cries for help. Those all went ignored. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“What do you want?” Your voice was a near growl.

Rhysand raised a single eyebrow at your tone. “You break into my apartment, steal my money, and have the audacity to have an attitude with me? Oh, little mouse, you are more than I expected.”

“If you’re looking for your money back, it's no use. It’s gone already. And you won’t find any cash lying around here.”

Rhysand’s flickered around your pathetic apartment. “I’m not here for my money.”

“Then what do you want, asshole?”

Rhysand’s lips ticked upwards, a small challenge flashing in his eyes. “I want to know who you’re working for, little mouse.”

“I’m not working for anyone,” you scoffed and went to stand but Rhysand’s eyes darkened.

“Sit down,” he ordered, his tone lethal.

You swallowed nervously and sat back down, suddenly realizing the most dangerous male in Prythian was here, in your apartment.

“Tell me who sent you to my apartment. Tell me who you’re working for.”

You shook your head. “No one, I’m not working for anyone. No one sent me to your apartment. It wasn’t personal. I just needed to pay off a debt and I figured you’d hardly notice six grand missing from your stacks of money.”

“And who do you owe money to?”

You looked away from him, debating if you should tell him. Rhysand probably didn’t even know who Tamlin was. Tamlin was a small-time criminal, nothing like Rhysand.

“Tamlin,” you murmured.

Rhysands’s grin turned feral and you wondered if you had made a mistake in telling him that.

“What kind of debt do you owe Tamlin?”

Shit, maybe he did know who Tamlin was. “None of your business.”

Rhysand studied you. “Well, little mouse, it seems that you owe me a debt now.”

Your mouth went dry. “I-I thought you weren’t here for money.”

“I’m not,” he chimed, stroking his well-defined jaw. You tensed as his eyes roamed your figure from head to toe, his gaze darkening as he met your stare again. “It's you I’m here for, little mouse.”

“M-me?” you stuttered. “I don’t…what do you mean?”

Rhysand lurched forward, grabbing your chin in his hand to force you to keep looking up at him. You winced at the pain of his fingers digging into your skin and that only seemed to rile him up more, his pupils dilating.

“What I mean, darling,” he purred, “is that I own you now. You are mine.”

“What–What does that even mean?” You tried to pull out of his grasp but he only tightened his grip further until tears lined your eyes at the pain. “You can’t just own someone!”

“Oh I can and I do,” he smirked. “You’ll soon come to find there are many people in Prythian that I own.”

“I’ll go to the police,” you snapped. “I’ll tell them everything I saw at your apartment.”

“No, darling, you won’t.” A stray tear fell from the corner of your eye and you watched Rhys track it down with his unusual eyes. “Gods, you are so pretty when you cry. The second I saw you, I knew you had to be mine. I guess I can thank you for that, for putting yourself on my radar, little mouse.”

“I’m not yours. I don’t belong to anyone,” you argued. You tried to rip yourself from his grip again and this time, he let you. He stood back to his full height, straightening out the ends of his sleeves.

“Think what you want but you are mine now, darling. I own you, remember that,” Rhysand said and turned to make his way across your shitty apartment to the door. You huffed, pissed that he had dismissed you like that.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you yelled at him, standing and following him to the door. “Do you think you have some sort of blackmail on me? What are you going to do? Tell the police I stole some of your dirty cash?”

His hand twisted the door knob but he paused for a second, turning to stare at you over his shoulder. “I’ll be in touch, little mouse.”

Your lips pressed together in a flat line, angry that he wouldn’t answer.

He left out the door and you rushed forward, sticking your head out to watch him leave.

“How are you going to do that? You broke my phone, asshole!” you shouted at his back.

You heard him chuckle before he disappeared around the corner.

༺♥༻

“So let me get this straight,” Vivianne, your friend, shouted over the booming music of the club. She and Valerie were sitting in the private booth across from you. “You stole from the Rhysand.”

You nodded, sipping on your gin and tonic bitterly. You were still perturbed by your visit from Rhysand yesterday. Still had no idea what he wanted or what he had meant by anything he had said.

“And you managed to get away only for him to figure out where you live and show up at your apartment?”

You groaned, resting your head against the cushion behind you. “He broke into my apartment. He was already there when I got home from dealing with Tam.”

Both of them made a face at the name of your ex. “And all he did was break your phone, threaten you a bit, and then left? Do you…Do you realize how lucky you are to still be alive, y/n?!”

“Yes, I’m aware,” you replied with a sigh. “Turns out even Rhysand is more forgiving than my ex. How depressing is that?”

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” a waiter cut in, stopping at your table. You glanced up to see him holding a small tray in his hand, a cocktail sitting on it. “That gentleman over there sent this for you, miss.”

He was looking at you as he said that, setting the drink down in front of you. You looked over to where he had gestured to see a fairly handsome man staring back.

“Thank you,” you said to the waiter who took his leave.

Your two friends giggled. “Well, are you going to go talk to that gentleman?”

You snorted. There were no gentlemen in this club. He had bought that drink hoping to get in your pants. But it had been awhile since you had sex and the male was attractive. You shrugged, tossing back your old drink and picking up the new one.

“I think I am,” you said, standing.

Vivianne winked at you, knowing exactly what you planned on doing with that man. “We expect all the details tomorrow morning.”

“You know I never disappoint,” you purred, with a wink back, before saying good-bye to your friends and making your way over to the male at the bar.

༺♥༻

You groaned, rubbing your eyes, as you sat up in your bed. You blinked awake, struggling to reach for the glass of water on your nightstand. You went to reach for your phone to check the time before remembering that Rhysand had broken it. You cursed him and looked at the small alarm clock you had, realizing it was already one in the afternoon.

You had gotten home in the early hours of the morning after leaving that male’s apartment. The sex hadn’t even been that good. Definitely not worth this headache.

You made your way to your bathroom, going through the motions of showering and getting ready for the day. You had a shift tonight at the diner you worked for as a waitress.

You went to the kitchen, squinting your eyes at the sun’s light streaming through the window. You filled up your glass of water before fishing in one of the drawers for some advil. You tossed two back and turned towards the counter.

A scream escaped your lips and the glass you were holding slipped, crashing to the floor and splintering into a million pieces. You backed up until you hit the cupboards behind you, gasping with a hand over your mouth.

Sitting on your counter was the decapitated head of the male you had gone home with last night. His face was frozen in a scream, his eyes glazed over. Blood was still dripping from the hole where his neck once was, making a huge mess all over your counter. Pinned to his forehead was a note.

You inched forward and ripped it from the head with shaky hands.

To My Little Mouse,

I don’t like my belongings tampered with. Let another male touch you again and there will be hell to pay. And don’t bother calling the cops, darling. I think you’ve realized now that you are being watched. They won’t help you anyways.

Rhysand

Fuck. This…This had to be some joke. Some fucked up joke. The head probably wasn’t real. It was probably from one of the Halloween stores that had popped up last week, at the start of October. You glanced back at the head and vomited all over the floor. It was real. It was fucking real.

On the counter next to the head, but far away enough not to be sitting in the pile of blood that had accumulated, was a big black box with a red bow on top. When you finally composed yourself, you scooted out of the kitchen, trying your hardest not to look at the human head on the counter, and grabbed the box from the other side.

You brought the box into the living space, trying to get as far from the head as possible before you opened it. You tossed aside the black tissue paper inside to see a brand new iphone sitting on top of something folded. Another note was on top of the phone.

Sorry for breaking your phone, little mouse, but I’m sure you’ll like this one much better.

Rhysand

You frowned, setting the phone and letter to the side before pulling out the other thing in the box. It was a little black dress. You set it aside, confused.

You picked up the phone, pressing the side button to turn it on. It seemed the phone had already been set-up, going to the home screen instead. A picture of Rhysand was the wallpaper and you rolled your eyes at his arrogance.

Before you could even look through the apps and stuff, a text message came through from an unknown number.

Unknown: I see you’ve received my gift, little mouse. Hope you enjoyed the other one, as well. Consider it your first lesson.

You: What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m calling the police. Now.

Unknown: You won’t. We both know you won’t. And you wouldn’t want to make your punishment any worse than it already will be, darling.

You wanted to chuck the phone at the wall, to snap it in half. You were certain this was just another way for him to track you. But if he already had people watching you, did it matter? You groaned, looking down at the phone again to see another text.

Unknown: Did you see what else was in the box, little mouse?

You: A dress?

Unknown: Yes, that is what you will be wearing when I pick you up tomorrow at 9pm. I’ll be sending over two girls to help you get ready at 8:30pm. Be home or else.

You: I’m not going anywhere with you. And I certainly won’t be letting two random strangers into my apartment! FUCK OFF

Unknown: Such naughty words, little mouse. Maybe you want to be punished more. I will see you tomorrow night. Don’t worry about your other little gift. Someone will be by to take care of it when you leave for work.

How the hell did he know your work schedule? Gods, he wasn’t lying when he said he was having you watched. You were in deep waters now. Truly.

And you had no idea how you were going to get yourself out of it.

You clicked out of the messages and pulled up the dial pad, hitting 911. You held the phone up to your ear as it rang, both fear and anger rushing through you. Fuck him. You were calling the cops. You didn’t care if you would get in trouble for stealing from him. There was a fucking head of a dead male in your apartment.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“I need to report a murder,” you said quickly, whispering as if Rhysand was in the apartment with you. “There is a… head of a dead male in my apartment.”

“What is your location, ma’am?”

“1962 Alis Ct, Hewn City. Apartment number 333.”

There was a pause before the operator spoke again. “Okay, the cops are on their way. Stay on the phone with me until they arrive, okay?”

“Okay,” you said, the phone shaking in your hand.

“Do you know the identity of the male?”

“Yes and I know who killed him too,” you answered quickly.

“Okay, ma’am, I’m going to need you to speak slower. You said you know the person who killed him? Who? Can you give me a name?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, still shaking. “Yes, his name is Rhysand. He’s the owner—”

“Excuse me, ma’am. Did you say his name is Rhysand?”

“Yes! H-he’s stalking me! He showed up at my apartment two days ago and I know he’s the one who put the…head here.”

Another pause.

“Ma’am, do you know it's illegal to make prank calls to the police emergency line?”

“I–I…what?! I’m not…I’m not making a fucking prank call. There is a real, fucking head in my apartment! I have text messages. I can prove it was Rhysand!”

“Do you know what the penalty is for prank calling the police? Up to ten thousand dollars in fines and a year in prison. That is what you’re looking at. It is in your best interest to end this call now, ma’am. Or the cops that were on the way to your apartment can come arrest you instead. What will it be?”

“You–You’ve got to be kidding! This isn’t a fucking prank call! Please, I need the cops. I need help! There—”

“I’ll give you one more chance, ma’am. End the call now or be arrested.”

“Fuck!” You cursed before hitting the red button to end the call. You let out a scream of frustration. What the fuck? Why the fuck did she think you were lying? Or did Rhysand have more sway over this godforsaken city than you thought?

The phone dinged again, a message popping up on the screen.

Unknown: Naughty little mouse. I told you not to bother with the police.

This time you really did throw the phone across the room.

༺♥༻

You didn’t even have to let the two girls in at 6:30pm the next day. Apparently, Rhysand also had made keys to your apartment. You had nearly peed yourself in fright when the door to your apartment swung open. Two women sauntered in dressed in all black. They were beautiful with long dark hair and onyx eyes. Twins, it seemed.

They didn’t even say anything to you, didn’t answer any question you asked them. Instead one of them wrestled you to sit at your clean counter and began to unpack a whole traincase full of make-up and hair products.

The other one grabbed the black dress from the floor and hung it, smoothing out the winkles.

They proceeded to do your make-up, giving you a black smokey eye and a red lip to compliment it. They also curled your hair and then pushed the black dress in your hands, gesturing at you to change. You made your way into the bathroom, not wanting to get naked in front of them, and put the dress on.

It was strapless and clung to your body. It was fairly plain except for the bottom of the right side where the dress was cut in an arch and rhinestones dangled from the edge to fill in the spot. You had also been given matching earrings to wear along with a thin, silver bracelet. A pair of black heels had been included as well. All of it seemed expensive, you even recognized some of the luxury brand names. This outfit alone was probably worth more than your monthly rent here.

By the time you got dressed and made your way out of the bathroom, the two girls were gone and you were alone again in your apartment. A knock on your door had you jumping in place, your heart accelerating even more than it already was. You hesitantly walked over to the door and opened it.

You were surprised to see not Rhysand, but one of the other males that had been present that day you had snuck into his apartment. It was the beautiful one, with his elegant bone structure and hypnotizing cold, hazel eyes. He gave you a once over, a muscle ticking in his jaw, before he held out an arm towards you.

You stared at it.

“You are to come with me,” he said, his voice as dark as his presence. You remembered Rhysand’s remark about his friends and decided not to test the male.

A shiver ran down your spine and you placed your hand in the crevice of his elbow. He guided you out of your apartment like a true gentleman. You gulped, staring up at him as he led you down the stairs.

“Who are you?” You finally worked up the courage to ask. He glanced at you again, his eyes darkening as they drifted down your face.

“Azriel.”

Your heart nearly stopped. “A-Azriel? As in…the Shadow of Death?”

He said nothing else but his lips ticked up for a second, an answer in itself. You found yourself shaking the rest of the way down the stairs now knowing who you were walking with. Azriel. That name was known in the criminal world, though most people called him the Shadow of Death. Because wherever he was, death normally followed.

Of course, nothing could ever be proven, no evidence ever tied back to him. Which is why he was here with you and not in prison.

Waiting outside for you two was a black limo, all the windows tinted so you couldn’t see in. The door swung open as you approached and Rhysand was there, sticking out a hand to help you in.

He grinned as he looked you over. “You look just as I hoped you would.”

You gritted your teeth, sliding into the limo. Azriel followed behind you and the other male from that day was already seated inside. He gave you a small smirk, his eyes also unabashedly trailing over your body and face.

Rhysand pulled you to his side but you pushed him away with a hiss. “Where the fuck are you taking me, asshole?”

“Oh, the kitty cat has claws,” the taller and more muscular male chuckled. The other two laughed at his remark, causing your cheeks to turn hot with embarrassment.

“I told you she had a filthy mouth, Cassian,” Rhysand said, stroking your arm. You grimaced at his touch, pushing his hand away.

“Do you want to try asking that question again?” You gasped, not even noticing how close Azriel had slid in behind you. You could feel his hot breath against the back of your neck. You shivered again at his dark, sensual voice. Your hands clenched into fists.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked again, through gritted teeth.

“Where are you taking me, sir,” Azriel cut in. “Try again.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder with a glare but he only stared down at you with that icy expression. You turned to see Rhysand watching you with amusement.

“Where are you taking me, sir?” you spat.

“I needed an escort for tonight.” Rhysand shrugged.

“I’m not a prostitute,” you hissed.

“Of course not, darling,” Rhysand said with a flick of his hand. “You are my date.”

You couldn’t stop your cheeks from turning a bit pink at his words. Couldn’t stop the coiling in your stomach. You bit your lip, looking away from him and his stupid, hot, smug face.

Rhysand shot forward, plucking your bottom lip free from your teeth. You wanted to back away from him but Azriel was still behind you and you found yourself pushed against his hard chest, now squeezed between the two males.

“Don’t touch me,” you breathed out, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You won’t be saying that by the end of the night,” Rhysand purred. “I can promise you that.”

“You’re delusional if you think I’ll ever want any part of you,” you managed to choke out.

“I don’t think, darling, I know,” he replied, gripping your chin in his hand like he had the other day to force you to look up at him. “Besides, you are mine. I own you, little mouse. I will do whatever I want with you.”

“You’re sick,” you spat, trying to ignore the heat that just blazed through your skin at his words. You were just as sick as him for even being slightly turned on right now.

Rhysand sat back, tossing his arm over the back of the bench seat with a shrug. “I am. But so are you, little mouse.”

His violet gaze apparently saw right through you.

He reached forward and plucked a champagne bottle from the ice tray on the other side of the limo. He filled up a glass for himself before handing the bottle off to Cassian.

“You have a very important role tonight, little mouse,” he said, twirling his glass in his hand. “I expect you to play it well.”

“And what role am I supposed to be playing?”

“You are going to sit there and look pretty.” Rhysand turned to look at you again with a smirk. “Should be easy enough for you.”

“And how is that supposed to help with whatever the fuck you’re doing tonight?”

“Because, darling, you are going to be quite the distraction.”

You said nothing else during the car ride while the three males talked with each other. You were surprised by how they were acting, like they were truly best friends and not just partners. You had never seen anything like it. Tamlin had never been like that with his two guards.

The limo finally stopped and you realized you were at Velaris, the nightclub owned by Rhysand. You were also far away from your apartment, from your neighborhood in Hewn City. And this area was entirely different. Clean and filled with rich people.

“Come, little mouse,” Rhysand said, holding out a hand to you to help you from the limo. You took it, remembering that you’re supposed to be his date, and let him lead you into the club, right past the long line of people waiting to be let in.

It wasn’t the first time you had been here, so you were familiar enough with the place once you were inside. The music was blaring, lights so dimmed and different colors, creating a dark atmosphere.

You held his hand as he maneuvered your group through the crowd until you made it to the vip section. The guard standing at the roped off section let you guys through as soon as he saw Rhysand.

You were pulled into a far corner, into a private lounge area secluded from the rest.

The three men filled the booth and you stood awkwardly, wondering where the hell you’d fit.

Rhysand patted his lap with a feline grin. “Come here, darling.”

“You’re joking,” you muttered but he didn’t falter.

“He’s not, little mouse,” Cassian said. His voice was as masculine as his appearance was and you found yourself feeling slightly warm at the sound of it. “Better get comfortable. It’s going to be a long night.”

You sighed but obliged, perching yourself on Rhysand’s lap. Rhysand was quick to wrap an arm around you, his hand spreading out on your stomach as he pulled you back even more so you were resting against his chest.

Your legs dangled off the side of his thighs, making you face Cassian. The male ran a hand through his long hair, sending you a wink which you scoffed at, looking away. But your cheeks still turned pink and you were certain he noticed.

A table girl came by a second later, dropping off four drinks at the table, already apparently knowing their orders. Rhysand slid a clear one in front of you and the smell of vodka reached your nose.

He pulled something out of his pocket with his free hand. It was a little baggy filled with white powder. He tore it open with his teeth and poured half of it into the drink in front of you. It disappeared into the liquid.

“Drink that,” he ordered.

You snorted. “You literally just put who knows what into that and you really think I’m going to drink it?”

“You are,” he said smoothly, bringing his own drug-free drink up to his lips. His was whiskey, you figured out by the smell of it.

“Like I said,” you replied, crossing your arms. “You’re delusional and sick in the head.”

He ignored you, looking over your head at Azriel. Before you noticed the look they shared, Azriel fisted your hair and yanked your head back. You let out a cry of both surprise and pain.

Rhys took advantage of the moment, pouring the drugged drink into your mouth before you could react. He slammed your mouth shut with his hand and held it closed as you looked at him with wide, panicked eyes.

“Swallow,” he commanded. You shook your head, desperately trying to pry your mouth open but he was too strong. “Swallow it. Now.”

A bit of the minty tasting liquid slid down your throat and you choked on it, unintentionally letting the rest of it follow. Rhysand let go of your jaw and you gasped for air, glaring at him.

“What the fuck did you just give me?”

“Just something to help you relax, little mouse,” he purred. “Calm down. It’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you spat him. “If you rape me, I swear to the gods—”

Rhysand’s eyes darkened as he met your stare. “No one is going to rape you. I would never let that happen, little mouse.”

You wanted to spit something back at him but the genuine look on his face made you falter. You swallowed back your retort just as a slinky looking male walked over to the table. Rhysand’s persona flipped in an instant, that cocky, smooth look back on his face. You tuned out the men as they started to talk, focusing on the alcohol that was now spreading through you as well as whatever fucking drug Rhysand had put in it.

More people came up, only ever one by one. He was dealing with some sort of business thing but you didn’t bother listening. The more you knew, the more trouble you’d be in when this all eventually got shut down.

The table girl came back a few times, bringing new drinks. Rhysand had slid another drink in front of you, not putting anything in it this time. You decided to drink it. You were already drugged, what more could possibly happen? You had wanted to keep a sober, attentive mind tonight. But Rhysand clearly had other plans.

The alcohol hit its mark, or maybe it was the drug, because you finally relaxed into Rhysand’s hold, the feeling of warmth spreading throughout your body. He seemed to notice, grinning down at you, satisfied. You continued to sip on your drink while Rhysand did his business, perched on his lap just like he wanted.

His hands were all over you. Part of you wanted to protest, but a dark side of you liked how his hands felt on your body. His hand rubbed circles on your waist, his thumb rising up high enough to brush against the underside of your breast, occasionally causing you to suck in a breath. His other hand was resting on your thigh, petting your exposed skin.

There was a break in people coming to the table, the three males just talking amongst themselves. You leaned forward to grab your drink, taking another sip. A bit of liquid dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. You went to wipe it by Rhysand grabbed your hand before you could.

“Cassian, our little mouse is making a mess out of herself. Clean her up,” he ordered.

Your eyes went wide as you looked at the other male. He smirked, his own eyes flashing with both amusement and hunger. He leaned towards you, swiping your lip with his thumb before bringing up to his mouth and sucking the spilled alcohol off of it. His devilish grin had your pulse spiking. Fuck. Why were these males so attractive? It wasn’t fair.

You released the breath you were holding in as Rhysand let your arm drop. You looked up at him through your lashes. “I thought you didn’t want other males to touch me.”

Rhysand leaned down to whisper in your ear, “They are the only ones allowed to touch you. And I think you want them to, little mouse. They are like my brothers. We share everything.”

He pulled back winking at you and you looked away, your cheeks turning bright red as the image of you squished between the three men popped up in your head. Rhysand seemed to read your mind, chuckling as he took a sip from his glass.

Whatever drug he had given you was working now. You felt fire pulsing through your veins. Your skin was warm but you wanted to be touched. Rhysand went back to stroking you and you couldn’t stop yourself from arching into his touch. Not when it felt so good.

This feeling only grew and grew the longer you sat there in his lap. You shifted again, crossing your legs to try and ease the tension between them. Rhysand growled, his hands tightening their hold on you.

“Stop moving around so much,” he hissed into your ear. “Or I’ll take you right here in front of everyone. Unless, that is what you want, darling.”

Fuck yes, it was what you wanted right in this moment.

“No,” you huffed, feeling shame and embarrassment at how much his words had affected you. You squeezed your thighs together, blaming it on the drug he had given you. Asshole.

“Then be a good girl and sit still.”

Fuck, that only turned you on more. What the fuck was wrong with you? You were seriously fucked in the head. No. It was that fucking drug he had put in your drink. It had to be. Your skin felt so hot now, the ache inside of you impossible to ignore. What the hell did he give you?

His hands went back to touching you all over and you bit down on your lip, trying to ignore the feeling. It's like he was doing it on purpose. You glanced up at him to see him smirking to himself as the male in front of him talked. Scratch that. He was absolutely doing it on purpose.

Another hand brushed against your thigh under the table and your eyes widened, looking up at Cassian. He gave you a wolfish grin before his attention went back to the male across from them. You looked back up at Rhysand but he didn’t give any indication that he knew what Cassian was doing.

Cassian’s hand traveled further up your thigh and you held back a groan as his calloused fingers brushed against your soft skin. You debated pushing his hand off of you but it felt so good to be touched right now. You glanced at him again but he was still paying attention to the other male, even as his hand began moving again.

Fuck, you should stop this. But gods, your skin sang at Cassian’s touch. You felt heat pooling in your stomach, your core pulsed in need.

No, stop. It was the fucking drug. You didn’t want this. Did you?

This time you did try to push away Cassian’s hand, but Rhysand grabbed your hand instead, stopping you. So he did know Cassian was touching you. Your nails bit into his skin.

Cassian’s fingers traveled higher and higher, your core tightening along with it. Fuck. Your skin was impossibly hot now. You bit your lip harder, drawing a bit of blood as his fingers brushed against your underwear, tracing the lining against the junction of your thigh. Your nails were still digging into Rhys’s hand and you let out a small whimper, unable to stop yourself.

“Darling,” Rhys purred. “We’re trying to have a conversation. Be a good girl and keep quiet.”

You could understand the double meaning behind his words. He looked down at you with a wicked glint in his eyes. He let go of your hand as Cassian’s fingers brushed against your underwear again and you realized he was giving you a choice now. Push Cassian’s hand away. Or not.

You should. You really fucking should. But gods, you were on fire. Blazing hot with the feeling of their hands all over you. You glanced around. You were out of sight from the rest of the club but that other male was still here talking to Rhys.

You needed their touch. Your skin was singing for it, electricity sparking at every touch of Cassian’s fingers. You were craving it now, feeling hot and flushed. The pressure inside of you wouldn’t let up. You chewed on your lip, your hand fisted on your thigh. That was apparently the sign both of them were waiting for.

Cassian pushed your underwear to the side quickly before his fingers stroked against your core. This time the moan slipped free from your lips and you arched in Rhysand’s arms. Your face turned hot as the conversation stopped again at the noise.

Rhysand leaned back down to whisper in your ear so the others couldn’t hear. “Keep yourself composed or there will be trouble. You wouldn’t want that, would you, darling?”

How the fuck were you supposed to stay composed? Was this your fucking punishment for calling the cops? Did he purposely give you a drug that would make you so fucking horny, you wouldn’t be able to resist their touches in the middle of a club? Be forced to keep quiet and sit still?

Cassian’s fingers circled around your clit and a spark of electricity roared through your body. You bit your lip harder but couldn’t stop from wiggling a bit on Rhysand’s lap. He held you tightly, pulling you higher up on his lap until you could feel his hard length beneath you. You held back a gasp at the feeling, at the proof that he was just as turned on by this as you were.

You took a peek at the stranger across the table to see his eyes trained on you, full of lust. So this is the distraction Rhysand wanted you to create. You should be more embarrassed, put a stop to this. But Cassian’s fingers circled around your clit again and all reasonable thought left your mind.

“Don’t look at her,” Azriel growled at the male.

The male swallowed audibly and forced his eyes back on Rhysand.

This was so fucked up. So, so fucked up.

Cassian’s fingers quickened and so did your breathing. You were nearly tearing apart your own lip now, swallowing your moans as he caressed you. Fuck you needed more. More and more and more. Heat was pooling in your stomach, between your legs where his fingers were.

It was Azriel who leaned in to whisper to you this time, his hand traveling up your shoulders to the back of your neck to hold you there. “Don’t you dare come without our permission, sweetheart.”

His deep voice caused your heart to jump in your chest. You wanted to give into Cassian’s touches. Wanted to unravel right there. But Rhysand was still talking to the male who looked like he was almost sweating with the effort of not looking at you.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as Cassian’s fingers continued their assault. Fuck, you could hardly breath. Sweet, hot pleasure was sweeping away every thought.

You were beginning to tremble as Cassian continued to rub his fingers around your clit. Rhysand held onto you tighter and tighter, his hard length pressing into you from behind.

The embarrassment of having them do this to you, especially in public and in front of a stranger should be overriding everything else. But the pleasure kept you locked in place. You licked your lips, tasting blood. You knew you had split it open with your own teeth, trying to keep your cries in.

Cassian’s fingers moved down, to circle around your entrance and you almost bucked in Rhysand’s lap if it wasn’t for his tight hold on you. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting them to see how his touch made them roll to the back of your head.

You whimpered as he slid in one finger, slowly pulling it back out and thrusting it back in. This time you did moan. It was too much, the feeling was too much to keep yourself quiet.

Rhysand grabbed you by the jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “What did I tell you, little mouse?”

You opened your mouth but no words came out, not as Cassian pushed another finger into you. Another whimper escaped from your mouth and Rhysand’s eyes darkened. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

“Answer me. Now.”

With Rhysand’s grip on your chin, Azriel still holding you by the back of the neck and Cassian sliding his fingers in and out, quickening his pace as you flushed red with pleasure, you almost unraveled right then and there.

“Y-you said to keep q-quiet.” Gods, it was torture getting those words out without a bunch of moans coming with them. Cassian was still thrusting his fingers in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit. Fuck. You were close now, that warm feeling spreading all the way down to your toes.

You were panting now. You wanted more. So much more. Fuck.

“And you disobeyed me,” Rhysand purred. He still held you by your chin, now forcing you to look at the male across the way who was staring at you with desire. “So this is your fault, little mouse. Don’t forget that.”

You were confused but Azriel stood as quick as lightning, pulling his dagger free and stabbing the man across from you in the neck. Rhysand wrapped a hand around your mouth before you could scream. The man gurgled before slumping over. Dead.

Your eyes went wide, tears building up.

Cassian yanked his fingers from you and you would’ve cried in protest if it wasn’t for the dead body across from you. He smirked at his brothers as he licked his fingers clean, groaning at the taste. “Gods, she tastes so good.”

“Are you pleased with yourself, little mouse?” Rhysand growled into your ear, keeping your face towards the dead man. “It's your fault he’s dead. Do you want to know why?”

You shook your head no, unable to talk with his other hand still wrapped around your mouth.

Rhysand continued anyway. “He’s dead because he got to hear your moans, your cries. And you know why that upsets me?”

You shook your head again as he turned your face back to him. You stared up into those devastating violet eyes. He let go of you finally.

“You are mine, little mouse,” he snarled. “No one should ever be able to hear those cries of pleasure except us. Just like no one should ever touch you again except us. Do you understand?”

Gods, this was your punishment for sleeping with that guy the other night. Had killing him not been enough of a message?

“He asked you a question, sweetheart,” Azriel growled, squeezing the back of your neck. “Answer him.”

“Y-yes. I understand,” you stuttered out. Azriel squeezed your neck again, a little harder this time. You yelped in pain before giving him what he wanted. “Yes I understand, sir.”

“Good,” Rhysand said with a pleased smile.

“But I—this wasn’t my fault! I didn’t want this. You drugged me! You made me want this.”

His smile stayed as he pulled that baggy out of his pocket and tossed it into your lap. You looked up at him in confusion. “You were never drugged, darling. Those are just crushed up mints. You’re just as sick as we are, aren’t you, little mouse?”

You grabbed the baggie with shaky hands, bringing it up to your nose to smell it, to see if he was telling you the truth. You sniffed and the scent of mint hit you. He really had never drugged you so…so all of that, all of the pleasure and want you felt, all of the desire, that had all been real.

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel were all grinning now and you knew it that moment that you were completely, utterly fucked.

༺♥༻

Tag list: @justdreamstars @minakay @f4iry-bell @godletmebeanf1wag @judig92 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @peaceandcrackers @glitterypirateduck @gorlillaglue25 @the-lake-is-calling @danikamariemain

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x you #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand #poly!batboys x reader #batboys x you #batboys x reader #cassian x azriel x rhysand x you #reverse harem

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rafedaddy01 · 7 months

Text

Part 1

A/n: lmk if I should do a part 3 in Rafes pov, I might end up turning this into a mini series!

Who would have thought that Rafe Cameron would show interest in you.

Nobody. And nobody will ever know what conspired between the two of you.

After that night at the party Rafe touched you, he didn’t finger you, he didn’t have too. A few strokes on your clit and you were done for. It was embarrassing, but Rafes smirk was telling you all you had to know. He was satisfied.

It’s been a week since that party and Rafe hasn’t contacted you once. You were beginning to think that he just used you like he does all girls, I mean it wouldn’t surprise you. He’s Rafe Cameron, the islands biggest fuck boy

It was a Monday morning and you had woken up for school a little earlier, like you have been for the past week, ever since Rafe showed the slightest bit of interest in you you’ve cared about how you look.

Curling your hair more and applying a decent amount of makeup, and not dressing like the schools librarian.

You got to school and as you rounded the corner you ran into a toned chest “watch where your-“ his eyes met yours and a smirk curled his lips

“I-I’m so so-sorry, I didn’t m-mean” you babbled as Rafe knelt down and gathered you books.

“It’s okay kitten, I hadn’t realized it was you” he purred as he handed you your things

You blushed as you pressed the books to your chest, suddenly feeling shy about what you were wearing.

Rafe eyed your body like a starved man, he stopped on the tight black fabric you called a shirt that was squeezing your breasts together and exposing the perfect amount of cleavage.

“Oh kitten” Rafe groaned “your killing me”

“I-i am?” You questioned, holding back a smile.

Rafe nodded as he swung his arm and you and the two of you started walking.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear “I’ve been thinking about you all week, wondered when I’d run into you so I can finish what I started”

You gulped as your panties began to flood.

“What did you need to finish?” Your voice coming out in a much higher pitch than intended

He chuckled as he spun you around in the almost cleared out hallway and pushed your body against the locker.

“How about you come to my party this Friday and I’ll show you” he licked the skin on your neck, actually licked you like you were some sweet lollipop

“I-oh okay” you mumbled as you subconsciously cranked you neck to give him more room

“So submissive, so needy, so- perfect” Rafe muttered as his hands gripped your hips and grinded his erection against your core and his lips danced on your neck

Your mind was hazy and you were about to beg him for something, anything! Until he suddenly pulled away

“Give me your phone” he said placing one hand on the locker beside your head and the other outstretched for your phone

You blinked at him but obliged, handing him your phone

“There, now you have my number and you can text me whenever your feeling needy” he said placing your phone back in your palm and smiling, that same genuine smile he had given you the night of the party. Maybe Rafe Cameron wasn’t such a heartless motherfucker like everyone said, maybe he actually cared about your feeling? No way! This is Rafe Cameron, he takes what he wants and nobody asks questions.

*fast forward to the party, this will be in first person

Today was the day, I was finally gonna lose my virginity, and to rafe Cameron no less

Ahhhh, I couldn’t contain my excitement.

It’s Friday and I’m walking into Rafes house, he gave me his number on Monday when he cornered me against the locker and practically fucked me with our clothes on and we’ve talked through out the week he can actually be sweet when he wants too

“Hey kitten” his voice husky and a bit slurred as he snakes and arm around my waist and holds a red solo cup to my lips “drink” he instructs and of course I obey

“Good girl” my knees almost collapse at the term, who knew I had a praise kink!? Well not me, I’m a virgin remember?

“How about we start this party” Rafe said nuzzling my neck and biting my ear lobe, a soft moan exiting my lips

“I’ll take that as a yes”

As soon as we entered the room, his room i take it, he slams my body against the wall.

“You’re so fucking sexy, kitten” he says before taking my lips and tongue fucking me. It’s so harsh and abrupt that I’m caught of guard, but I don’t mind it.

This is only my 2nd time kissing Rafe and it makes me nervous to think I’m not doing it right but he like to take control and so I let him, his big sexy arms trail over my thighs and lift them up so I’m wrapped around his body, my dress bunched up.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay kitten?” He says leaving wet kisses down my neck “please!” I beg as I grind subconsciously against his crotch.

“God! I love it when you beg. I can’t wait to feel your tight hole around my cock”

His dirty words make me blush, but they also make me leak like a faucet.

Rafe brings his fingers down between my thighs and touches the damp spot on my panties “holy shit your soaked” he groans as he moves the fabric to the side. “Fuck” I groan out as he slides his fingers through my folds “this time I will finger you and make you cum so your ready for my cock” he says just as he jams one finger up me

“Fuck your tight” he says.

I moan and groan as he adds a second and I come so hard I forget about the fact that we’re still against the wall and anybody walking by could hear me.

“Keep your legs around me and hold onto my neck, kitten” Rafe instructs as he reaches for his belt and undoes his jeans. He pulls his cock out and I almost gasp at the size of it, how is that going to fit?

“Don’t worry, it will”

Shit I must of said that last part out loud. My cheeks blush as Rafe stares at me. He leans down for a kiss and it’s so passionate and affectionate that I almost forget he’s about to impale me on that thing.

He brings the tip to my clit and circles it before slowly pushing through my walls.

It stings and I feel like crying but it also feeling fucking fantastic.

I moan into his mouth, which he greedingly swallows.

He pulls his lips away and rests his forehead on mine.

“Shit your so fucking tight” he grits out as he slowly pushes in more

“Rafe!” I moan as I feel the familiar feeling of an orgasm

Rafe slowly starts moving in and out and groaning as I clamp him down

“Shit!” I scream as my orgasm hits me harder than before.

Rafe pumps a few times and pulls out as his cum shoots all over my exposed cunt

“Fuck, y/n… please tell me your expecting your period or something..” he says looking down that his dick

“Uh, no why?” I speak up as I try to regain my ability to stand.

“Are- were you a virgin?” Rafe asks

Then I look down and see it. His cock is covered in blood

Fuck

“I-i thought you knew” I say as I pull my panties up and fix my dress.

“Fuck!” She shouts as he rushed to the bathroom and I hear the water running

I can’t hold back the tears, what did I do? Does he not like me now? Is he disgusted. Shit.. I knew this was stupid, I’m so embarrassed!

He comes back all dressed and carrying a washcloth. He stands in front of me and kneels as he wipes my thighs and strokes them before standing and placing his hands flat on the wall beside my head

“Why didn’t you tell me” he said looking into my eyes

“I-i thought you knew” I said trying not to cry, I’m so pathetic

He stroked my hair before cupping my face in his hands

“Kitten… if-“ he sighs as he stares into my eyes, there’s something he wants to say but he’s holding back, I can see it

“If I had know I would have been more gentle. I would have done it right, fuck! I can’t believe I took your virginity against the wall” he said letting go of my face

“Rafe it’s okay, i- I liked it” I say feeling a bit better about the fact that he doesn’t find me repulsive

He smiles softly but I can tell he’s uncomfortable

“I should go” I say

“Wait, let me take you home” he says stroking my cheek with his thumb

I nod and he leans in to place a kiss to my lips

“Is it bad that I want to fuck you again?” He said as his nose nudges against mine

I bit my lip and stare into his blue orbs “not in the slightest” I say

Rafe drops me off and the ride over was a bit awkward but he made small talk and made me comfortable

As he comes to a stop in front of my house he leans in a kisses me

I’m caught off guard at first but I give in

He pulls away and rests his forehead on mine and we sit like that for a few minutes before he speaks

“I’m sorry I took something so precious from you, kitten”

“Don’t be, I loved it”

He smiles and presses one kiss to my lips and pulls back

“I’ll call you, yeah?” He says

I nod and smile at him as I exit his car and he waits for me to enter my house before driving off.

Rafe called me as soon as he got home and we spent most of the night talking about the most random things, it was… nice

Part 3

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism

#outer banks #rafe cameron #drew starkey #smut #dark rafe cameron #outerbanks #drewstarkey #drewstarkey smut #rafecameron #fanfic #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction

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son-of-a-ghost · 11 months

Text

Care (Jeff the Killer x reader smut)

A/N Yeah, I haven’t written shit to post since early high school and I just graduated college. This doesn’t make sense, but I had a good time writing it, so I’m sharing it with the void that is Tumblr. Maybe someone will like it, idk.

I am also aware that this is bad. Shush.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Jeff, please!”

You called out, begging for him to slow down, but the killer didn’t slow down. He kept up his brutal pace, pounding into your pussy with a vigor he usually reserved for murder. Groans and growls escaped his lips, emanating from his chest.

“Huh-huh too much!” you whined out again, and this time he snapped up his head to look into your eyes. Piercing blue eyes clouded with lust stared deep into your soul, wild and out-of-touch with reality.

Suddenly, it was like a switch flipped and he remembered where he was and who he was with. He slowed his pace.

“Sorry, love, you just feel so good. Do you need a break?” He questioned, panting to regain his breath and composure.

You nodded a response, taking a deep breath of relief when he pulled out of you. Every muscle ached and you had no idea how long you and him had been at it, you just know that it was becoming too overstimulating. Jeff straddled your thighs, leaning down to kiss your lips, hands running through your hair to comb out any knots.

Exhausted, you kiss him back, relaxing into his kisses and touch. Despite how rough he can be during sex, these moments of kindness and compassion when he realizes he took it too far are part of what keeps bringing you back to his room night after night, begging for him to ravage you.

Soon, your exhaustion took over your body and you fell asleep, Jeff still kissing your lips until he realized you were asleep. He moved off your body to hold you while you slept, pulling a blanket up over both of you. Subconsciously, you snuggled closer to him and he smiled; a real smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, Jeff wasn’t surprised to once again hear a quiet tapping at his door. He already knew you were behind it, but what he wasn’t ready to see was instead of you being extremely turned on and needing him, your face was instead streaked with tears and you sniffled.

“What’s up?” he tried to casually say, but the concern colored his voice more than he would have liked to let on as he opened the door further to let you in.

“LJ is a goddamn jerk, that’s what’s up,” you sniffled again.

“He fucking stole my rabbit stuffed animal, and yeah, I know it’s so stupid to have it but forgive me that I have something from my childhood before this fucking place. And he won’t give it back!” Anger filled your voice as you relayed this short story to Jeff, plopping yourself onto his bed.

He was a little stunned. You had never come to him with a problem before. Usually he saw you as a confident person who wasn’t afraid of any of the weirdos and demons that called the forest home. Yet, here you sat in his bedroom, crying over a stuffed animal. He was unsure of what to do, but what he did know was that this was something serious. And he wasn't very good with seriousness.

“Uh… uhm, do you want me to get you a new one?” Jeff offered awkwardly. In response, you wrapped your arms around yourself and hugged yourself. A sniffle escaped your nose, followed by a quiet, “No.”

Jeff walked to his bed and cautiously sat down next to you. “Why can’t you get it back? You’ve never been afraid of any of us before.”

“I’m not fucking scared, I just can’t find it in LJ’s stupid carnival. It could be anywhere.”

Jeff felt the anger building in his chest that LJ had done something that had upset y/n so much. He stood wordlessly and began walking towards the door. “Wait, where are you going?” you called after him. “Out,” was his one word response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat in your room alone, watching the tree line outside the house for any animals. You couldn’t sleep, you were still riled up from the events of the day and couldn’t stand the thought of trying to sleep without your stuffed rabbit. Another sniffle held back another round of tears.

Tap, tap, tap…

A light knocking sounded from your door. You debated not answering it; you didn’t really want to see anyone right now. But when the knocking came again, a little louder, you moved to open the door.

Standing outside was Jeff, a little bloody, but gently carrying something behind his back. Wordlessly, he revealed what he had been hiding.

Your rabbit!

A huge smile overtook your face as you grabbed it and held it to your face. It didn’t smell quite right anymore, but it was definitely your stuffed rabbit. After hugging the rabbit, you hugged Jeff with an intensity he had never experienced from you.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear.

“No problem,” was his muffled response as he buried his face into your neck.

This hug didn’t end quickly, and soon Jeff began kissing your throat, leaving nips where he knew your sensitive spots were. You whined softly each time.

Releasing him, you made eye contact with him and dragged him backwards into your room. He shut the door behind him, especially as his dick started to swell and he could feel your heart rate pick up.

Inside your room, you paused his advances to put your stuffed rabbit on a chair, off the bed. You didn’t want your precious stuffed animal to be anywhere near the two of you while you were being ~intimate.~

Jeff grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him when you turned around, kissing you roughly. You giggled.

“You didn’t rescue my rabbit to get in my pants, did you?” You questioned him.

“Of course not,” Jeff laughed back. “I did it because I care for you and this is something you were upset about. I knew it meant a lot to you.”

“...you care for me?” You repeated. “You’ve never said that before.”

“Oh. You think I let you into my room every night and let you sleep in my bed with my blankets and I don’t care about you?” He questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

“I guess… yeah, that is what I kind of thought.”

He shook his head. “If I didn’t care about you, I would at the least kick you out of my room after I was done fucking your brains out. Or leave you high and dry.”

You whined, pouting. “Ah, shush, I wouldn’t do that to you,” he responded to your pouting. “Now, lay down. I need you,” he commanded, pushing you towards the bed. You laid down, giggling the whole time.

#smut #Jeff the killer #jtk #reader smut #x reader smut #Jeff the killer x reader smut #Jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta #creepy pasta smut #creepypasta smut

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quin-ns · 7 months

Note

Hi! Hope this is the right place to request,sorry if it isn’t. I was wondering if you could write a Routledge!hippie!fem! Reader x overprotective!JJ? Some suggestive fluff with a happy ending if that’s okay☹️ I absolutely LOVE ur work btw!!🩷

Reader is referred to as John B’s sister but she’s not described and is only a half sibling so anyone can read! I want to fulfill requests but it’s also important to me that I do what I can to make my fics inclusive 🫶

Peace & Love (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Every time JJ caught himself looking at you a little too long, he immediately felt John B’s eyes land on him. He had never mentioned it out loud, but JJ figured his friend knew he had a crush on you.

It wouldn’t have been a big deal if you weren’t John B’s little sister.

You weren’t actually that much younger than him, only a few months. Apparently Big John got around more than people realized, and after he pissed both John B’s and your mom off, he was left with the both of you.

It never seemed to cause any problems with you and John B, surprisingly. JJ sometimes wondered how that was possible, but John B took pride in being an older brother and you weren’t exactly the resentful type.

In fact, JJ was fairly certain you didn’t have a negative bone in your body. It was one of the many things he liked about you.

Your whole existence screamed peace and love, and all your friends (JJ included) joked that you were a hippie stereotype. It never bothered you, probably because you knew how badly the group needed someone who could remain calm and make everyone smile.

“I got something on my face or do you just think I’m pretty?” you asked suddenly.

It took JJ a moment to realize you were looking right at him, brows raised. Not long after that he realized he’d been staring again while lost in his thoughts.

You all were at a beach party, sitting around a bonfire. Other people were milling around all of him and his friends, but JJ wouldn’t have been any the wiser to their presence. He’d pretty much forgotten all about them, actually.

He flirted with you all the time, but this caught him off guard. If it had been just the two of you JJ would’ve been sincere and told you yes, he did think you were pretty. He’d been wanting to say something along those lines for a while, to test the waters.

But he felt the pressure of the others eyeing him—especially John B—and made some lame comment about not recognizing your headband and asked if it was new.

“Nah, man, I’ve had this one for a while,” you replied, subconsciously adjusting it.

John B looked at him as if to say, “really, dude?”, but you were too carefree to be suspicious.

Kiara laughed. “You probably haven’t seen it in a while ‘cause she has about a thousand.”

“So what? I like them,” you defended lightly. JJ watched a little too closely as you lifted your cup to your lips, but it was empty. “I need a refill,” you realized, standing.

JJ almost jumped to follow you, but he was still getting stared at. You disappeared out of his view through random bodies and he felt himself deflate.

“Seriously?” John B said, raising a brow at him. “You expect me to think you were looking at her headband?”

JJ felt like a spotlight was on him. Usually he didn’t mind, but this was a little more different. John B didn’t sound mad, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if his friend had told him to back off.

“If you like her, just say something,” John B continued, much to JJ’s surprise. His eyebrows even shot up while his best friend laughed. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“Yeah, dude, you’re super obvious,” Pope chimed in from off to the side.

JJ glanced at him and saw amusement before focusing back on John B.

“You’re so not pissed?”

John B laughed again. “Why would I be? I know you, man. And I trust you. So if she likes you back then… I mean, I’ll still have to have a talk with you, but you have my blessing.”

JJ let himself laugh at the phrasing. He stood, confidence building. “Since I have your blessing,” he started sarcastically. “I’m gonna go find her.”

That’s exactly what he did, maneuvering through the crowd, eyes searching for you excitedly.

When JJ spotted you, jealousy descended upon him. You were near the keg, filling up your cup, talking to some guy.

As he headed for you, that feeling morphed into protectiveness when he saw you try to walk away from the guy and he grabbed your arm.

“Hey! Let go of her, man,” JJ intervened, shoving himself between you and the guy.

“Who the hell are you?” the guy slurred out, face scrunching up in annoyance.

“The guy who’s gonna kick your ass if you don’t walk away,” JJ warned, squaring his shoulders. The guy hesitated for a moment, looking him up and down. Then, he turned and walked away exactly as he’d been told. “That’s what I thought.”

“Damn, JJ,” you said, sounding almost impressed.

He turned to face you and calmed down immediately when he saw you. “You alright?”

“Yeah, dude just couldn’t handle hearing “no”,” you relayed with a shake of your head. A small smirk tugged at your lips. “I guess I should say thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“You don’t gotta thank me.” JJ shrugged, attempting to be modest. “I’m always gonna look out for you.”

He was being sincere, and the smile you wore was appreciative.

“Noted,” you said before a more teasing smile crept onto your face. “So… you coming to ask about my headband again?”

JJ laughed in spite of himself. He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah… that was kinda lame, wasn’t it?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “But you’re cute, so it’s okay.”

Was he blushing? JJ wasn’t sure. He flirted with you all the time, but this was new territory because of what he was about to say.

“That’s good to know, ‘cause I actually came to ask you out… so, do you have plans tomorrow?”

“Well, I guess I do now,” you replied, your smile that JJ absolutely loved growing wider. “Although, I hope you ran it by my brother first.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #outer banks #obx #quin-ns writing #request #asks

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zerobaselove · 11 months

Text

what if? | park gunwook

pairing: gunwook x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 726

warnings: none. lowercase intended, not proofread.

prompt: 19. "get out of my head."

notes: i'm ngl i saw this in my inbox and have been thinking abt it ever since i just NEED to write it or smth bc ohhh my wookie (i am so in l word w him it's fucking crazy)

most people your age spent their friday nights out and about, whether at parties or out on the town with friends, everyone just wanted to go out and have fun. but for you and gunwook, you preferred your nights in every once in a while, especially on days like today where you both had homework due the following monday.

you both wanted the rest of your weekend free of stress, so the quicker you got it done the better. and that's how you were sat here in gunwook's bedroom. you had found yourself sat on the floor, back resting on the side of his bed, books and papers sprawled out on the floor. gunwook had sat down at his desk, typing out the outline for some paper on his laptop. the clicking keys and pen scratching the only noise for a while, until a loud huff broke through the air.

"what's wrong wook?" you asked, knowing that clearly something was up.

he shook his head, tapping his fingers on the table, "i can't focus on anything, i've been staring at this page for half an hour now." he let out a frustrated sigh, and you couldn't help but feel bad. you knew how annoying it was to just not be able to focus, especially when you just wanted to get the task done.

"is there any way i can help?" you asked sincerely, wanting to at least try to be helpful.

the boy hadn't turned to answer you, so his next words were barely audible. "i need you to get out of my head."

did you hear him right? you were convinced that surely, surely you hadn't. so you quickly asked him to repeat himself. turning his body around to face you, he took in a breath before replying again.

"get out of my head," he sighed, "i can't focus on this paper when you take up every thought in my mind." a pout had crossed his face as he let out the admission. his cheeks had quickly flushed a dark crimson as he saw your widened eyes looking back at him. it was in that moment he realized that he had essentially just confessed to you without even meaning to.

your mouth ran dry, every response you could come up with seemed to get trapped in your throat, and you felt yourself resisting the urge to simply kiss the blushing boy in front of you. after years of no confession from the boy, you had started to think you should give up on ever having your feelings returned, but here you were, and here he was.

looking up at the boy you let out a small "oh," before moving your books off of your lap and standing up, opting to lean against the desk. gunwook's eyes didn't leave yours, too nervous for the response he would get, and whether he had just messed everything up or not.

"what if," you paused, trying to gain the courage to not trip over your words, "i want to be in your head?"

now it was gunwook's turn to let out a mumbled "oh." his mind going a million miles a minute at your response while a subconscious smile found its way to his lips. "then uhm," he pushed his hair back, trying to come up with a minimally embarrassing response, "then i guess that's okay."

the boy took a moment to stand up, suddenly towering your frame as he stood in front of you, "you're more important than some silly essay anyways." you caught his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips, and you couldn't help but shrink under his gaze.

an attempt at a response had come out more as incoherent mumbles, much to your dismay, but gunwook had come up with a solution to your problem. before you knew it he was leaning in closer and you could smell his cologne as if you were being engulfed in him.

as much as you wanted to look at the pretty boy in front of you more, you let your eyes flutter shut as you leaned to close the last couple inches between your lips. you could feel gunwook smile into the kiss before pulling away, a sheepish grin plastered on both of your faces.

"you know," you mumbled, "you're on my mind a lot too, gunwook."

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #park gunwook imagines

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baconcolacan · 1 year

Note

What would happen if R Tord and S Tord subconsciously switched places? Like no one would know that they had swapped and they were free to do whatever.

Oh my god, like a mental swap instead of the fully physical ones we’ve been doing?? Good lord! Thats horrible (When it comes to R Tord swapping with S Tord at least)

First of all, R Tord would be extremely disoriented when it first happens, and of course he’d feel all kinds of fucked up because S Tord’s body has chronic pain, plus he’s older so things will feel all wonky and achy.

He’d probably throw a fit when he realizes he needs mobility aid (the leg brace and crutches) and try to think up of a way to get out of his situation and back in his own universe (because he’d be damned if this clearly incompetent version of himself ruined all his progress back home.) Besides, where the hell even is he?? Some sort of house?? Dear god, dont tell him theres a version of him who settled down somewhere to be a nobody hermit-

“Elskling?? Have you found your files yet? We really have to get back to the office now.”

That voice. That definitely shuts him up. He might be gaping a little when he turns to the door and finds Thomas of all people coming in and walking towards him. He looks older, definitely, but thats clearly Thomas, or at least a version of him.

….and he’d be lying if he said his eyes weren’t straying somewhat.

This Thomas moved with grace, his steps were light but actively aware, he carried himself with confidence and a slight haughtiness his own Thomas didn’t quite have yet. His posture nearly reflected Tord’s own, deceivingly docile but ready to move into action when needed.

This Thomas was every bit of potential he had ever seen in his own Thomas.

His hands moved on their own, reaching out in a familiar gesture he wasn’t used to, and to his surprise, Thomas willingly stepped into his hold, smiling as his arms wrapped around his neck.

“What…did you say??” He didn’t mean to speak in Norwegian, but frankly he’s a little shocked.

Thomas hummed as he looked up at him.

“Your files? You dragged me all the way back home because you needed my help finding them??”

He nearly jolted out of his skin when this Thomas replied to him in perfectly fluent Norwegian.

Suddenly he wants.

Well….maybe this whole universal mishap won’t be so bad.

A little fun is allowed.

He feels himself grin as his hands wander along this Thomas’ body. “Well…what if I lied?” He teases as he pulls him closer. “What if I might have forgotten something else??”

Thomas lets out a little purr- and wasn’t that interesting?- but he leaned his head back a bit even as Tord tries to move in.

“Cute, but no, in case you’ve forgotten, you have a public address today, Red Leader.” He nearly feels himself choke when Thomas fingers the collar of his shirt with a smirk. “But maybe later, if you feel up to it.”

Red Leader?

Oh….how fun.

Maybe this universe isn’t all that bad.

“Do you promise?”

“Of course sir.”

He knew it was probably meant to be teasing, but the rush he feels at Thomas addressing him like that nearly has him dizzy.

He gives in to his wants and pulls Thomas in for a kiss, somewhat rough but deep enough to make him breathless.

Once they break apart, Thomas seems a little winded. “Oh wow, that was…” Then he paused, biting his lower lip. Tord nudges him a little.

“Good? Great even?” He chuckles.

Thomas seems to snap out of whatever thought took him and just smiles at him. “New, more or less.” He leaned up for another kiss that Tord happily gives him. “I don’t hate it at least.”

Tord laughs and lets go of him, walking around him to get out of the room.

Tom looks after his husband’s retreating back with a frown he doesn’t see.

Something’s…..off…..

—

STord would probably be panicking when he comes to.

He doesn’t feel all his usual aches, his right leg doesn’t feel like hell when he puts too much weight on it, his right arm feels heavier and looks a bit clunkier than he remembered.

Also what the hell was up with his uniform?!

Why is there so much gold?? Holy fuck, he feels like a douchebag, this was the kind of design he might have vibed with when he was younger, maybe around like 15 to 17 years old, because he was a right asshole at that age, but now it was just making his eye hurt.

Fuck what the hell?! He made the mistake of giving himself a once over, jesus, he looks stupid.

One glance around him clued him in to the fact that he was at a medical ward, one that he was familiar with, a medical ward in the Red Army.

But….things were wrong.

There were slight differences, the hallway was too long, there was an extra door where there shouldn’t be, some staff members that he saw, who should have been fired a long time ago, were suddenly back and working in the wards???

Not only that, but he had this exact medical ward torn down and renovated years ago! Because they secured enough funding for a central hospital so that the HQ buildings could just have a dedicated clinic each.

What the fuck is going on???

“….Sir…?”

He snapped out of his daze when a doctor beside him hesitantly piped up. When he moved his eye toward him, the man flinched minutely, making him frown.

He knew he was intimidating, being RA’s commander, but his medical staff rarely reacted like this towards him.

“Are you here to visit the patient?”

“Patient?” His voice surprised him, it sounded less rough than what he was used to after years of tobacco abuse, he sounded younger.

Oh hell no.

He snapped his gaze towards the opaque window of the door he stood in front of, and focused his gaze, ignoring the nervous stammering of the doctor beside him.

That…..wasn’t his face.

It was, but it wasn’t.

Then the doctor said something that made him freeze.

“I-I mean, the prisoner sir. Thompson.”

…Thompson???

Prisoner?!

Tord grasped the handle of the door and barged in, slamming it in the face of the doctor who tried to follow behind him.

His breath caught in his throat at what he saw.

Tom was sitting up on a hospital bed, but his arms were strapped down by the wrists at his sides. Bandages covered his poor love- or at least a version of him, but to Tord, he was still always going to be his kjaere- almost covering any patch of skin he could see, and on the skin he could see were a litany of scars that marred his flesh.

He stopped himself from flinching when Tom looked up after noticing his presence, his eyes were sunken in, surrounded by a dark shade of black, he grinned at him, but the look was wild and cornered.

There was genuine contempt in his eyes.

Tord felt his heart ache.

Tom huffed.

“Back so soon commie prick?”

#asks #anonymous #regimen ao3 #ew stay au #The Conference Table #AUGH *pointing at R Tord* PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME

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tastybluesprite · 1 year

Text

Emotions (Marc x Teen!reader)

I was inspired to write this so I whipped it up real quick. A bit of angst to comfort. Idk if this is just my way of venting my own personal emotions and issues by putting it into a fanfic with my favorite fictional characters, but I guess it was sort of therapeutic for me lol. Either way I hope you guys like it.

It was 8:00

It was a quiet evening and Marc Spector was on the couch next to you. He was reading a book about Egypt that Steven had been begging him to read. He seemed to be enjoying himself though.

But not you. You felt like there was a big gaping hole that got burnt into your stomach. You felt like an elephant was pushing against your chest. You were, in short, dealing with the wonderful life of being a teenager.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to break something. You wanted to cry.

Oh god. Not cry. Never cry. Especially not in front of Marc. You knew full well that crying was a sign of weakness. If you cried it would make you completely and utterly vulnerable.

And so you tried to think of something else. Something that would help you gain control over your emotions and your current state. You tried to think of happy things.

But you couldn’t.

The pressure in your chest began to grow heavier and heavier tears were forming in your eyes but you tried to blink them away. But Marc noticed your breathing had seemed to stop, as you had subconsciously held your breath.

“Y/n, are you ok?”

Oh god.

The pressure became too much to contain and you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling out. You quickly get up and make a dash to your room. If you were being forced to cry you weren’t going to let it happen in front of him.

You could hear Marc calling after you but you shut the door on it as you quickly wipe the tears away.

You don’t lay down on your bed because you worry that if you lay down, it might soften your body and make it harder to keep control over your emotions.

Not long after, you hear a light knock on the door, “Y/n?”

It was Steven.

“Come in.”

You decided that you didn’t want him to think anything is wrong. So letting him inside would be the best choice.

“Marc told me you ran off.” He said softly as he sat down next to you on the bed.

“He thought that if you came in I’d be willing to tell you what’s wrong huh?”

Steven looked sheepish, “He did seem to think I’d be able to get through to you.”

You sigh. “Well, tell Marc I’m ok and nothings wrong. I was just tired and needed to lie down a bit.”

It was then you noticed the worried look on Stevens face.

You felt guilty. You didn’t want them to worry.

“Ok, ok… it’s just… I’ve been…” you felt awkward and doubled back.

“Yes?” Steven asked.

“Ok FINE! I’vebeenfeelinglikecrapandIdon’tknowhowtodealwithit.”

You say this all with one breath.

Steven stares at you for a moment, and a soft smile appears on his face. Then suddenly his eyes seem to shift.

“I thought it might be that.”

The voice had lost the British accent.

“You were listening Marc?” You ask, slight embarrassment tinted your cheeks.

“I had to get through to you somehow. Even if I had to use Steven to do it.”

“Well you aren’t through to me. I’m not telling you anything!” You say this with a slight childish attitude.

Marc sighed, “Look, I understand you’re a teenager and that puberty sucks, and I’m no parent, but I’ve dealt with the same things when I was your age. I might be able to help. If you talked about it a little then you might feel better.”

“But.. I can’t.”

“You can’t?” He replies.

You nod.

“Why can’t you?” Marc asked. You take a deep breath, “I… I don’t want to talk about it. Well I do.. kinda. I guess I’m just…”

You realized how sentimental you sounded and shut up immediately.

“Scared?” Marc finished the sentence.

You nod.

“Well that’s ok! It’s ok to be afraid. Opening up is scary as hell. It’s hard to talk about things that bother us, usually because we’re worried of being judged by others. But I promise you, there’s absolutely nothing you can’t tell me.”

You consider this for a moment. “I don’t like to talk about… feelings, and stuff… it makes me feel weak.”

“You aren’t weak.” He assured you. “Trust me, Y/n, the bravest thing you can do is to talk about it.”

You take a deep breath. “Ok fine. The truth is. I’ve been feeling a pressure in my chest. Like there’s a big gaping hole in my stomach. It was making me feel so bad. I was trying not to cry but it didn’t work…”

Marc put an arm around you. “Oh, Y/n, if you needed to cry why didn’t you just say so?”

“But crying is showing weakness.” You say in protest, “you said Im not weak!”

“I said that opening up is the bravest thing you can do.” He said, “If you needed to cry I wouldn’t have judged you for it.”

“B-But..” you can’t hold back your feelings anymore. You are blinded by big and heavy tears. Sobs began to escape.

“There, there, just let it out..” he said gently as he pulls you close to his side. You clutch his sweater and cry into it. You cry harder than you ever had before in your life.

Marc just soothingly rubs your back. He was patient. He didn’t care how long he’d have to stay there. He just wanted to make sure you were ok.

After some time, you finally calm down.

“Better?” Marc asked, looking down at your puffy red face. You nod slowly.

He sits up, grabs a box of tissues from the night stand and hands it to you. You grab one and wipe at your eyes as well as your nose.

He pulls you in again slowly and he lets your body sink into his.

Soon you fall asleep and he moves you slowly into a laying position on your bed. He covered you with a blanket, kissed your forehead, and left you to your well earned, peaceful rest. He was already planning to check up on you in the morning.

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imaginethistime · 2 years

Text

Squish

“C’mere.” You pat the spot next to you on the couch. Izuku looks around and then sits somewhat next to you. “Closer, I want to squish and cuddle you.”

While you had always been this comfortable with everyone Izuku was the target of your affections. You wanted to be close to him as often as possible. “Please.” You add. Slowly Izuku scoots closer to you. “Better, but Izuku it’s not really cuddling if you stay tensed up like that.”

“I’m sorry Y/N I just don’t really feel comfortable.” You sigh, but you wanted to respect his boundaries.

“That’s okay Izuku, I did want to cuddle you, but if you don’t want that's okay. But can I lay my head on your lap? I’m really tired today.”

He moves away from you, “I g-guess,” He manages to stutter out.

“If you’re uncomfortable just let me know, I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable okay,” You lay your head on his lap, your close proximity to him causes Izuku to flush a deep shade of red. “Tell me about your day.”

Slowly Izuku begins to relax as he goes into detail about how he was able to use more of his quirk today and able to hone his ultimate move. While you didn’t quite understand why you knew that Izuku’s quirk was much newer to him than yours. You had been able to use your quirk since you were a small child. But from what you had observed Izuku’s quirk manifested itself sometime just before entering UA. While you hadn’t seen it yourself and only saw what happened in school, you heard that he had broken nearly every bone in his body during the entry test.

Without realizing Izuku had begun combing his fingers through your hair as he spoke. It was a nice feeling, and you knew if you mentioned it he would stop so you didn’t. “Izuku... what’s your quirk? Why do you get hurt by it so easily?”

He looks down at you, “Well, Y/N I’m not even really sure what to call it. I just know that sometimes it’s too powerful for even me to use and if I’m not careful I might lose the use of my arms.”

The thought pained you, you could see how deeply Izuku wanted to be a hero and save people. If he lost the use of his arms, he could never fulfill that dream. You could tell that he really went through hardships to even be here at UA.

“Izuku can you promise me something?”

“What Y/N?”

“When you’re the top hero will you still remember me? I might not be a big hero with a name for myself. But knowing that you won’t forget me, is all I need.”

“Of, c-course Y/N! I could never forget you.”

The way he says it makes your heart skip a beat. His big green eyes staring down at you so sincerely. You had always been the one to express your feelings never holding back, so why did he make you so nervous all of a sudden. You knew you liked him, and you made it clear.

“Y/N, I-I” he leans down almost as if he’s going to kiss you.

Just then Bakugo bursts the door to the main room open shouting, “Deku!”

“Kachan!” Izuku smiles sweetly. God you loved this boy.

Wait- did I just. Oh, my god I do. I do love him. You quickly sit up as blood rushes to your cheeks. With the new realisation you suddenly don't know how to act. As Bakugo continues to yell at Deku you mutter a good bye and leave to your dorm. Once down the hall and out of site, you lean against the wall and let out a sigh.

Not once in your life had you ever been nervous talking to someone, it was probably in part due to your quirk which gave you the ability of persuasion all you had to do was look them in the eyes, so you became so used to being forward that you never had any reason to be nervous.

Again realisation dawns on you. Oh no, I was projecting again wasn’t I? You thought that Izuku had wanted to kiss you, but now you understand. You had looked into his eyes and subconsciously persuaded him. You thought that you had your quirk well under control as the last time you had projected was when you just ten years old.

With the weight of your new understanding on you, you cant help but let out a small silent sob. You wipe away the tears that had begun forming. You don’t want to let anyone see you cry, you were always perceived in an aloof manner and you wanted to keep it that way. It was easy for people to be afraid of you and your quirk, if you wanted to you could have complete control over others and they would never remember what happened. So it was easier that way.

You feels the tears coming back and run the rest of the way to your dorm.

Just before you reach your door you bump into Hagakure. You were glad it was only her, she was the only person you could one hundred percent never control, but that didn't mean you wanted to let her see you cry.

“Sorry-” You open your door and quickly close it behind you as the sobs wrack your body. “God, how could I have been so so stupid? Of course he doesn't like me, I mean he won’t even cuddle me-” You stop mid sentence, suddenly resolved to distance yourself. He would never need to know that, you had persuaded him, after all he wouldn't remember what happened while he was under your quirk.

You spend the rest of the night in your room not even coming out for dinner, Hagakure comes by a few times but you don’t answer.

The next morning you leave your room with sunglasses on planning on not taking them off until quirk training class. If I can’t look someone in the eye then I cant persuade them.

That is until you sit down in class. You look over at Izuku as he mutters to himself. Probably trying to figure where he lost time yesterday. “Oh, sweet sunglasses.” Before you can even stop him Kaminari has already taken them off your face and put them on his. You don’t bother asking for them back as you know you won’t get them.

Instead you put your face between your arms and place you head on your desk.

“Hey, Y/N?” Izuku nudges you.

“Yeah?” You don't move from your spot resolved to not look him in the eye.

“Uh- um c-could you look at me for a sec?”

“I uh- I’d really rather not- I just um...” You trail off, and look up any ways trying not to make direct eye contact.

“Uh, okay um- Y/N I realised something yesterday...” He takes a deep breath.

Oh, god he know, he hates me. I would be okay if he never returned my feelings but if he really hates me-

He pulls flowers from behind his back, “Ireallyreallylikeyou!” He yells in one breath. You can hardly comprehend what’s just been said to you. If, he said this today, after not having looked you in the eyes is it really possible that he truly feels this way?

Or did your quirk manifest a stronger hold? With out answering you look Kaminari in the eyes and persuade him to give you your sunglasses that he was now twirling on his finger. You could only persuade one person at a time, so if Izuku truly liked you he would still be standing there, offering you the flowers.

He’s put the flowers down and is now staring sheepishly at the ground. So you were right. It was all just part of your quirk- He raises the flowers once more, “ and I was wondering if you maybe like me too? I mean i know you are touchy feely with everyone but it felt different with me and I dunno I just though that maybe-” God, you loved him. his ramblings were so cute. You silence him with a small kiss on the cheek.

“Yes!” You shout and Aizawa wakes up from his sleeping bag on the floor. “ I do like you Izuku, in fact so much so that I was worried that I had accidentally persuaded you into liking me.” You whisper. The weight was off your shoulders, and for once trusting someone with the insecurities that came with your quirk you feel lighter.

“You would never need to persuade me Y/N, I liked you since the first time I saw you sitting in front of me on the first day of school. That’s why I was always so uncomfortable,”

“Goodness, we’re not the brightest are we? all this time and we could’ve been together if we’d just gotten out of our own way.” You say and pull Izuku in for a real kiss this time.

Aizawa clears his throat and you reluctantly pull away.

“Hey, Y/N I lost your sunglasses I don’t know where they went...” Kaminari whispers.

#izuku midoriya #soft kisses #wholesome #Quirk #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia #my hero x reader #DekU #fluff #angst

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typically-untypical · 2 years

Text

Echoes of the Past - Day 11

Prompt: “I tried not to let these things affect me. They affected me quickly and obviously.”

CW: Angst, Mild Horror, cursing? I don't remember honestly.

"Day 27 of isolation," Logan looked at the laptop he was recording on, a copy of himself staring back. His hair was a mess, and there were obvious bags under his eyes. He had been slowly getting worse, though a thought crossed his mind and he smiled weakly. He was beginning to look like Virgil.

"I may have over estimated my ability to handle a quarantine from the others. I find without the noise that is normal when living with others, my own personal anxieties are louder inside my head. I am actually surprised by the fact that I have anxieties. I would have assumed all of that was pushed off on Virgil. I believed the silence would be a welcome change. The others were often distracting and it was difficult to process things with their consistent slamming and chatter. However, instead of silence improving my productivity, it has amplified every other sound, many being the sounds of my own body. It is terrifying and exhausting to have to question each and every breath. I am trying to not let it affect me."

There was another sound, a noise from the computer, and Logan jumped. It was a cascading effect, rather obvious when he realized what the noise was, and then the sudden drop in his face. "It is affecting me quite a lot," He muttered. There was a self-loathing that was reflected in the camera, as Logan ran his hand down his face. "I had hoped returning to the subconscious would mean reintegration, and when it didn't, I had hoped that maybe I could make a home here."

He paused, blood shot eyes looking into the camera. "I am finally beginning to understand the difference between a dwelling and a home." A few tears began to slide down his face. "I wonder if they miss me. Not that it matters either way... is it better to be missed, to know that you were wanted, or is it better to be forgotten and know that you didn't hurt others?" Logan was crying fully now, not even bothering to clean his tears. "I'm terrified of returning, but I am not certain I can continue like this." He reached forward. "Maybe I just need to get past the next few days."

The video cut off and the silence echoed through the common room.

Patton, Virgil, and Roman had only recently realized that Logan was missing. They had assumed he was locked away in his room. They assumed he had just been avoiding all of them. None of them would have been surprised, they had all had a few issues over the past few months and it was obvious that Logan was being worn down. They wanted to give him room and space to relax, and then of course, things got busy. After a month Patton had decided he couldn't take it anymore, he had to make sure Logan was okay. He knocked and knocked, offered food, offered companionship, but he didn't hear anything on the other side. After a few hours, Patton forced the door open. He knew it was rude and an invasion of privacy but he didn't have time to feel guilty. The room was empty, completely barren, and Patton suddenly wished he had been rude sooner. They spent another week in panic mode. Logan's door sat open but they didn't know what to do. The three of them hoped he would just return and suddenly everything would be okay.

But it wasn't.

Logan didn't come back, and they all started to fall apart. Roman had suggested a few drastic things like going into the subconscious. Patton was beginning to think they should have, even if the subconscious was dangerous, that was apparently where Logan was, or at least where he had been. None of them were sure if he was still there now. They had been watching through all of Logan's logs, too sick to their stomachs to even stop to eat.

Virgil was the one to find the computer. It had shown up around 2am while Virgil roamed the hallways after a nightmare. The sound of Logan's voice echoed through the empty door, and Virgil had immediately woken the others up. They hadn't left the commons since then. They watched Logan's reasoning, Logan's slow decent into madness, and they all clung to each other, because it was all they could do.

"Day 28," Logan giggled on the screen, but it was wrong, there was something off. His movements were jerky. "Four weeks, four weeks and I am alone." He laughed, a deep shattering laugh that sent shivers down all of their spines. "The clock on the computer is the only thing that tells me the day, and I don't even know if that's right. Maybe it's only been a few hours. How pathetic would that be?" His eyes flashed orange, his appearance changing as if he was glitching out of one existence into another. "This isn't fair! I don't deserve to be treated like this? I should be cared about!" He stood up, throwing his chair against the wall, leaving a dent and breaking off one of the arms. He glitched back, shoulders slumping. "Sorry, that was unprofessional... I shouldn't behave in such a way. This isolation was my choice. No one else should be blamed for what is happening to me." He sighed, walking over to get the chair, setting it back up before he sat down on it slowly. "I'm sorry," He apologized again.

"I don't know if anyone will ever see these... but I hope they don't... only I should face the consequences of my actions. However... I can't stop recording. I think it's the only thing keeping me partially sane."

There was another long pause, a look in his eyes that couldn't be explained. He bit at his lip. It was like he knew something that the others knew. He let out a slow and deep sigh.

"I don't think I can keep doing this."

Virgil reached out to close the laptop, his hand shaking, but Patton held him back. "There's... there should be seven more days, maybe it can help us find him, maybe we can fix it." His voice was pleading, but Virgil also had a look in his eyes, something that Patton didn't understand but Virgil was trying to protect him from.

"Pat, we don't know what's going to happen next. I don't think we should watch it." Virgil hesitated, "I don't think you should watch it." Patton wanted to understand. He was missing something, but he didn't know what, and it terrified him.

"Day 29. Why do I keep trying?" Logan jumped and looked outside of the screen before his shoulders slumped in defeat. "The door is locked. I was going to try to leave, but the door is locked."

Patton and Virgil both turned back to the screen as Roman reached out, pulling his brother up.

"Ohhh, you're calling me, that's new and interesting." His voice over lapped with Logan's. The video couldn't be stopped. It was a cacophony of noise as Roman tried to explain what was going on. His own voice shaking as he heard Patton balling, Virgil attempting to calm him.

"We need to find him," Roman shouted and Remus looked confused before he turned to look at the laptop. His brow furrowed a bit as he picked up the laptop, watching the screen.

All they could hear was Logan's voice.

"There's no way out. I can't escape. I would rather the darkness just swallow me rather than string me along. I... I can't do this anymore. I... I will see if there are anymore entries, but... I can't maintain a useless routine."

Remus frowned, "That's not the subconscious." Logan had said it was the subconscious and Logan wasn't normally wrong.

"What?!" Patton and Virgil both asked, Roman standing up to look at his brother.

"It doesn't feel right to be the subconscious, and this laptop smells like me... but I would have known." His brow furrowed and Remus dropped the computer. "Come on dorks. Time for a field trip. We have a nerd to find and save."

The video continued to play and there was a blood curdling scream. Remus frowned, tearing a hole into the fabric of their common room. "Sooner rather than later."

[Section Break]

Logan was laying in a web, wrapped up by something that felt like silk but sticky. He felt overwhelmed and out of it, his brain fuzzy and barely able to cling to conscious thought. He had been attacked, something had happened after that.

"But he's so delicious to feed on, all of that negative energy."

"Down girl!" Someone was talking, there was shouting, and fighting and something was happening but Logan didn't understand what.

"I got you," Another voice whispered and Logan was almost certain it was Patton. He knew that soft gentle lilt and Logan couldn't help but laugh. It was a sad broken laugh.

"You aren't here," there was a desperate edge to his voice, but he had stopped trying to hide that long ago. "You aren't here, no one is coming to help me." His breath came out stuttered, even as he felt himself being cut down. "I chased them all away, it's my fault."

And Logan genuinely believed that. He believed it was his fault for leaving, and his fault for not being enough. He fell boneless into the imposter's arms, eyes closed as he fought not to shake and fall apart. "If I hadn't been so sensitive I wouldn't be alone."

He didn't see the way Patton's heart broke, didn't see the way Remus teleported them back to the common rooms. He was too tired, mentally, physically, everything was too much.

"I implore you, just let me go," He whispered, drifting off to a painful sleep as someone stroked his hair gently.

"Never again," Patton whispered, "I'm not letting you feel alone ever again."

@simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @melaniidarling @tsshipmonth2020

#Untypical Creations #Sanders Sides #Sanders Side fic #Fanfic #logan sanders #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Remus Sanders #Logan Angst #eotp2022 #mild horror

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sinful-huntress · 1 year

Note

p-pr-praise kink for steven……… please? (〃ω〃)

*wiggling eyebrows* ;p

Flicking his wrist, Steven tried to not get burnt while lighting candles. He wanted to thoroughly surprise you with tonight. Which meant withholding the fact that he was off all day today, dodging you while at the mall, and rushing home before you could walk in the door. He knew you wouldn't want to do too much tonight. Already hearing about a long day of work, and planning accordingly.

But a hot bath with scented candles wasn't doing much.

You couldn't protest Steven when he ambushed you. Pinning you against the door and just about shoving his tongue down your throat. Muffled moans as he guided you across the bedroom, slowly stripping you as he adjusted to carrying you. The heavy panting was just the beginning of the evening.

"Did you take a love potion or something?" You couldn't help but try to look away from those brown eyes, "Being this forward after work..."

That soft chuckle practically squeezed your heart, "Not quite mi Amor. I had today off, all day to plan while thinking about how badly I needed you close to me."

You wanted to hide. Smacking Steven gently was the best you could do however, "Y-y-you lied to me. You said you were at work."

"I apologize." Did his voice just drop an octave? Was that even possible? "I didn't want you to find out what I had planned."

Though you realized Steven had set you down in the bathroom. The soft scent of candles, the mood lights being set as Steven stripped down. The tub was full of warm, soapy water...

And your face was glowing brighter and brighter with blush...

The tub was somehow big enough for the two of you to sit opposite each other. Not that Steven was going to be far from you. Given that his hands were wandering your body under the bubbles, slow and steady movements as he gently massaged your chest. He leaned in close, whispering in your ear.

"I've been thinking about this all day mi Amor." You couldn't keep yourself from shuddering in anticipation, "Holding your gorgeous body close to my own, rubbing against you, my hands allowed to caress your every inch. I've wanted this for a long time."

You tried to fumble something out, but words were failing you. Especially as Steven slid you up onto his lap, shifting slightly so you'd still be mostly in the water. Keeping you as comfortable as he could while his hands slipped across your back, teasing you up and down your spine as he went.

"I am a very lucky man." He half purred, "The way our bodies fit together, the sound of your voice, how it feels to run my hands across every sweet curve."

You were starting to feel light headed. You wanted to say something, anything. But nothing was coming to mind. Just Steven, just this moment.

"Though the sweetest curve is that of your lips mi Amor." You subconsciously matched his mouth as he carefully nudged closer, "I crave your kisses. Please..."

You didn't hesitate, kissing Steven hard. His arms pinned you against himself as he cupped your face with both hands. Your hands were clinging to his shoulders, even as you felt his dick curving up behind you. It was getting to be a little much, it barely took Steven any time to have you riled up and wanting him more and more.

But he was the master of teasing and knowing exactly how to do it. Pulling away slightly, stopping you by just tilting his chin down a bit. Leaving you to pant, and want a little more.

"Te amo." He suddenly moved to kiss along your neck, "Te amo... Te amo..."

He punctuated every repetition with a kiss, trailing down your shoulder, around to your chest. A gentle bite on your nipple made you jump slightly, but Steven didn't ease up. He wanted you, wanted you to know how much he loved you. How much he wanted this, wanted you.

It would be a long night...

#bbb #kekkai sensen #kkss #blood blockade battlefront #ask #anon ask #steven starphase #sinful heathens

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lxvestxned · 2 years

Text

Work Visit

marc spector x gn!reader (1.7 words) in which your friend of a friend, marc spector, makes an ass of himself in your place of work, and then promptly digs out when he’s realizes he did not think out his plan to ask you out well enough. warnings: swear words, boring work talk, fluff

a/n: okay now THIS is the most selfish thing i have ever shared evER. this is my literal work daydream from yesterday. just thinking thoughts about how my natural attempts at flirting is always full form bullying... and how hilariously marc would handle it. and perhaps, this is a college!au of sorts?? i subconsciously bring the boys down to my age for some reason.

Ah yes. Truly gratifying was the mindless work of a receptionist between rushes. The salon and spa’s laundry waited ever so patiently for this moment. The seemingly impossible lull between managing transactions, answering inquiries, and checking in guests, allowed for the growing number of baskets behind the reception’s desk to be tended to. And one of the receptionists had quite enough of pretending it never existed.

From your little check-in stand beside the checkout desk, you occupied the surface with pile after pile of freshly folded towels and bedsheets. Your eyes wonder between your muscle-memory-infused folding technique to the bodies that milled about the corridor outside your front doors. This small piece of the hotel was all you knew. Between six elevators, the guest-only pool, the cafe, and your own salon spa’s open glass doors— there was not much for you to amuse yourself with.

You found that the cafe made for mediocre entertainment every once in a while. It was easy to look ingrained in the folding of salon capes while also judging the conversations that floated in from the reception’s barred backsplash. Of course, the best of conversation was always that of a first date. It meant finding out the couple along with them, as there were no mystery names or inside jokes to speak of yet.

You were astounded by the amount of eavesdropped-dates you would consider a success— which was a whopping zero. The best of the worst had to go to the woman who strong-armed her date to admit that he wasn’t “enough of a man” in bed… or perhaps to the guy who asked a grand total of 1.5 questions before sitting in silence for his date to painstakingly fill the void until HE decided to call it quits. Every time you were made more and more grateful that you’d never dealt with a first date situation.

Or date situation ever… or date… is what a regular person would call it probably.

The elevator ding recalled your attention. It was the only way to get to that floor of the hotel, so classical conditioning told you that the familiar chime means “check in clients!” But when the swimwear-clad family came bustling past your doors, you knew to resume your mindless duties. You finally turned your back, returning the folded laundry into it’s basket on the floor.

“I’ll be right back,” you lifted the basket, nodding to your fellow receptionist at the register.

You were surprised to see her look right past you, customer service laced into her, “hello!”

You followed suit, smile beaming on your lips before you could even turn to the customer, “hi!” But you were suddenly met with a familiar face, shock driving the pitch of your voice back to its natural state, “w- hey!”

Marc Spector stood all too nonchalantly for someone bearing the cheekiest smirk on the face of the Earth. He didn’t even spare a proper greeting. Not that it was needed given your newfound jolt of genuine energy.

“Where did you come from?” You set the heavy basket onto the surface before you.

“The elevators.” He responded drily.

You frowned, “Yeah, okay,” immediately feigning disinterest.

Your coworker sputtered in bitten off laughter from her seat behind you— and you were particularly unamused with the familiarity of this situation. Almost like an eavesdropper was about to rate this moment as the best of the worst interactions at the front desk.

You were amazed to find Marc bowing his head to mirror her chuckles.

“You got an appointment or something?” You said.

He remained in his quiet. First looking beyond the reception desk, into the lobby of the salon spa, then leaning back some to peer into the cafe. The act was enough to supply you an answer.

You opened your mouth to say, do you actually know how you got here? But, he summoned a response sooner.

“No, can I make one?” His arms folded over his chest.

Your brows raised then. The cogs in your head worked over time to decide between your ingrained work script’s ‘of course, what would you like to get done?’— and the much more natural ‘are you being fucking forreal right now?’ He was always bringing the meanest of humor out of you somehow.

“You should!” You say instead, perhaps too deep into your work shift to even remember how you normally speak to him, “there’s literally a trillion things you could try here.”

Marc couldn’t hide the surprise from his face. He couldn’t even hold onto the cheeky cross of his arms as you led him to the checkout desk. Your coworker politely traded spots with you, although she did remain standing at attention to your interaction with who she likely inferred was not a proper customer. Though you couldn’t blame her, it’s not like you had many visitors when working at a place so fancy. You began to pull up the appointment book on the desktop’s screen.

“Oh, this is my friend Marc, by the way.” You told your coworker, to which she nodded.

“Ahh, I figur— oh?” Once again her eye line caught your attention, “what’s that look for?” She grinned at Marc.

Apparently, it was his turn for his brows to reach his hairline. He stared at you from where he leaned over the counter.

To which you shot him an incredulous look of your own, “what?”

“Nothing.” He was coy with his reply, distracting himself with a gloomy look down. Purposely leaving all too much to be assumed by your coworker.

His shock was, of course, due to you ‘deeming him worthy enough to be called a friend’— and absolutely not because you were some ‘Casanova toying with his heart and minimizing the depth of their relationship in public’. And yet, all the words needed to explain that to your coworker went unsaid as she was swiftly occupied with a real customer who entered at that moment. Too soon she was leaving the reception area with the customer in tow, and thus you were alone with the man basking in your embarrassment.

“Don’t be weird here,” You frowned even harder.

“You’re the one being nice to me,” he frowned back.

“Well I can’t just turn off my niceness for you, okay. I’ve been working for hours now.”

“Is it that hard being nice to towels?”

For a second, you both looked to the finished basket that still awaited you. “What, were you watching me?”

“What do you do here anyway?”

You rolled your eyes, not really feeling like explaining your work duties when he was very likely setting up another punchline. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Marc pressed his lips together, going so unhelpfully quiet for a beat too long again. “I’m here to book an appointment, come on.” He had the nerve to rush you.

“An appointment for what?” You pried, “Hair? Massage? Nails? Makeup?”

He let out a whopping sigh as his arms wound back into its fold, still resting them on the counter. “What can I book you for?”

You couldn’t believe you were actually suppressing a smile, could he honestly be there just to annoy you? “Nothing, I’m literally just a receptionist.” ‘you dumbass’ would’ve faithfully followed that sentence— if only you weren’t so well aware of the cafe guests within earshot.

“Okay so basically, you’re useless.”

Okay… so suddenly you were doing much more than smiling. In fact, you were laughing albeit seeping with malice.

Marc bent to retreat his stupid fucking mouth into the cradle of his arms, letting out the laughter he dared to share. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” his downturned smile made you want to tackle him over the counter.

Except it was at the very opportune time that you spotted a hairstylist approaching to check their client out. Your exterior slowly shifted to its trained appearance, “I can help you in a moment!” You nodded him to the side, and he dutifully stepped back.

Your work brain was easy enough to key into. Collecting the price and tip, scheduling their next appointment, emailing receipts— it was all like clockwork. Made only a bit difficult with the lingering stare from the monotone man standing just in front of the multicolored product shelf.

“Have a great day!” You waved the client goodbye while she bounded out the doors. Charging your trained-cheerful tone with a fighting spirit when Marc resumed to the counter, you smiled, “how about I book you for a brazilian wax. I can do that.”

“What’s that?” He crinkled his nose.

You pointed a downturned fist between you two, “I’m going to,” you violently ripped the imaginary strip in your demonstrative fist up, “wax your balls off.”

Marc reflexively shrunk back, eyes shutting closed as if in active pain at the thought alone. Upon mentally recovering, his nose wound up twice as hard, one of his eyes forced to follow suit, “guys don’t actually do that?”

You dropped your hand, “only the sexy ones.”

“Tch,” he shook his head.

And almost like you were in the middle of your busiest time of your work day, you were beckoned to attention again, this time by a phone call. You lifted the phone off the desk, and Marc did the same with his weight.

“Okay, I’ll go.” He started for the doors.

“O-Okay?” You wished there wasn’t so much surprise in your tone, really you should have been glad if anything, “bye.” You tried a new one, but you couldn’t help the newfound disappointment— and then the even newer-found disgust in that disappointment. He was gone from your sights with his gentle wave almost as immediately as he appeared. You took a longer moment to compartmentalize those feelings for a much Much Later time, before you answered the phone.

Not that your coworker would allow you much time to keep those thoughts at bay. Did she really need to comment on the way you glowed ‘til the end of the shift after his little pop in? Was it really necessary for her to do so just as she landed on the floor she parked on? Marc was the weirdo for showing up at your job for seemingly no reason. If anything, you were just shocked that he remembered some offhand comment you must have shared about your job. It’s not weird to be glad to see a friend of a friend after such monotony of your workplace. At least, that’s what you said to convince yourself that night in bed.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x y/n #marc spector fluff #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fanfic #moonknight fanfiction

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fushipurro · 5 months

Text

In Sickness and in Health

☆ Content: super fluffy, caretaking toji, pet names, very self indulging

☆ Notes: short drabble i wrote while i was sick <3

toji knew the moment something was wrong with you. as you two were going to bed, you had been complaining about a migraine and some sniffles but figured it was just some rainy weather moving in as the cause.

usually you're out like a light and as still as a corpse while you sleep until you subconsciously creep closer to cuddle. this night in particular, all you could do was toss and turn trying to find what was comfortable.

he doesn't think, no, he knows you only slept for about thirty minutes at a time when you could finally fall asleep before waking up and struggling to fall back to bed.

"you okay, y/n?"

"head hurts so much," you groaned, coughing suddenly.

the man pulled you close, allowing you to use his body as a pillow. his calloused hands running up and down your bare back gently while softly cooing, "there there, sweetheart".

something your mom used to do when you were younger to help you sleep.it wasn't for long, but it was the most comfortable you were able to for that night.

toji realized when you became feverish when you kept trying to kick the blankets off to cool down only to start shivering and wrapping yourself right back up.

when morning arrived, toji began to get out of bed to get ready for work. you were still in bed wrapped up in a cocoon of every blanket on the bed.

he sat down next to you, caressing what little of your face was sticking out, "do you want anything before i head out, baby?"

you looked at him weakly, your skin clammy and pale, "a cold washcloth, please?" you muttered.

"of course, i'll be right back," he smiled.

he gently laid the washcloth down over your head, kissing your cheek, "i'll be back soon, just rest up, okay?"

you barely could nod your head, "don't go..." you whispered, not realizing you spoke your thought out loud.

a short while passed and toji came home, with him some of your favorite soup and comfort snacks. he walked into your shared bedroom and found you still in your chrysalis surrounded by tissues.

"toji? shouldn't you be at work still?" you looked up at him from the laptop in front of you.

the man climbed into bed with you, setting down the soup in front of you. "i took the day off, they're not the ones who need me right now."

you sat up, your expression still jaded. a weak smile formed on your lips. "you didn't have to do that, i'd be fine on my own."

"i want to be here, y/n," he brought the soup up to your hands, "you should eat something, i brought medicine for your head as well."

taking the soup from him, you looked down, tears welling up in your eyes. "i'm sorry, i don't want to burden you".

he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, kissing your cheekbone and wiping the tears with his thumb.

"t-toji!" you stopped to cough, "i don't want to get you sick!"

"you think a cold could beat me?" he laughed, his lips meeting your flushed cheeks once more. "you're not a burden either, we're married. in sickness and in health."

"thank you, honey, i love you."

"i love you too, sugar."

when the following day came, you felt back to normal and no longer sick or in pain. rising up from your pillow in a nice big stretch.

"good morning, toji," you caressed his face.

he opened his eyes partly to your loving face, groaning deeply, "mornin'" he coughed.

"uh oh, did you lose the fight?"

the man quickly threw his arm around your waist and pulled you against him, burying his face against the nape of your neck.

"shuddup, i don't lose any fight, princess."

you laughed, gently rubbing his forearm the same way he did for you. "looks like i'm the nurse now."

"you gonna wear one of those dresses and heels too for me?"

you playfully slapped his hand, "little late for a halloween costume now, toji, but~ i'll think about it."

"good girl," he kissed your neck and no sooner fell back asleep, snoring softly.

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #jjk au #toji x female reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji zenin #toji x you #toji fluff

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storytelller-drabbles-english · 4 years

Text

«Supernatural». Michael/Adam Milligan, Chuck Shirley/Michael. Father (18+) (the first version of the ending)

I write in Russian and use a translator. If you find any errors, please let me know about it.

Warnings: sexual abuse (raped), sex father and son.

___

Chuck found them in some cemetery. Adam felt Michael tense up, taking control of his body.

"What happened?" Milligan asked his archangel excitedly.

There was no need for an answer, because at that moment God manifested himself.

"Michael," he said, "my son."

"Father" There was no hint of warmth in Michael's voice.

"Come on, Mikey, you love me," Chuck smiled.

"I loved you," Michael corrected him, "and you didn't answer me.

"Why? I've always answered you, son," God narrowed his eyes.

"And that's why he forgot me in the Cage and didn't answer my prayers," the archangel frowned.

"Well, you know, the Apocalypse, that's it, I wasn't up to it," Shirley shrugged.

"And now, then, there is time," Michael pursed his lips, feeling Adam's soul hugging him, comforting him.

He tried to teleport, but realized he couldn't. He was held here by something or someone.

"I need your help, son," God said softly.

"Where have you been with this for the past ten years, when I prayed to you every day? There was no hostility in Michael's voice, there was only undisguised bitterness.

"I wanted to get you out, son, it's true," Chuck continued to say, but Michael knew it was a lie. How many more times has God lied to them in their entire existence? How much did he lie to his creations, children, archangels, angels, not to mention people?

Chuck looked directly at Michael.

"Help me, son. You already know that the Winchesters are planning to wage war against me. And their brother is with you, so they won't go against you, they cling to the family too much, considering that there are so few of them left."

Until that moment, Adam had hoped that God had somehow not noticed him or simply missed him, but realizing that this was not the case, he turned cold and felt Michael tense up even more.

"Don't touch him," the archangel's request was ignored. Adam felt his body stiffen and after a few seconds he heard the voice of God.

"Hello, little Adam."

Milligan was very scared. Michael too.

Chuck appeared in their shared consciousness. He looked exactly the same as in reality, except that he was in Adam's head.

"You won't even say hello? Sad," Shirley sighed, shifting his gaze from the frightened Adam to the tense Michael.

"Father, please go away," Michael said, closing Adam with himself.

"I can't leave without you, son," Chuck replied simply, "I need your help."

"I don't want to get involved in a war, Father," Michael replied firmly.

"You were made for war," Chuck began to get angry, "you've always been on my side, so prove that you're still your father's son. Prove that you are Michael. Prove that you are still loyal to me."

Shirley held out his hand, offering Michael to choose. Adam felt the vibrations of his archangel, so he snuggled up to him from behind, hugging him.

"No," Milligan mentally addressed him directly, "please, Michael...".

Michael did not answer him, but Adam already realized that he had made his choice.

"No, Father, I won't get involved in this."

Suddenly Chuck laughed. He lowered his hand and the space around him changed.

"That is, you will go against me for the sake of... what ? For the sake of human?!", he spat out the last word with such hatred that Adam recoiled.

Michael could not calm down while God was here, because subconsciously he felt the danger coming from him and his great power.

Chuck shook his head.

"Well... have it your way," he raised his head and looked intently at Adam, who realized that there was going to be some kind of trick.

When Chuck snapped his fingers, they were back in the cemetery. When Chuck started chanting some spell, Adam was looking right at him. When Chuck, before finishing reading, looked into the eyes of Michael, who stepped forward, both Michael and Adam felt a wild pain that went in waves all over their bodies.

"No, Father, please!" The archangel shouted, begging him to stop.

"What is he doing?!", Adam asked in a panic.

"He wants to divide us," Michael sounded desperate. He clung to Adam's soul like a drowning man to a straw, just as Adam clung to him, but it didn't help a bit.

"He's stronger. Sorry, Adam.… I love you," Michael managed to whisper before a bright light blinded Adam's soul, forcing him to close his eyes.

"What?! No, Michael!" Adam desperately searched for the soul of the archangel inside himself to detain him, but he knew that she was leaving him at that very moment and he could not prevent it in any way.

"No!" Adam didn't know who was screaming, he or Michael or they were together, but he knew that the archangel didn't have a vessel, so he didn't know where Chuck wanted to put it and it scared him very much.

His deafening scream and maniacal laughter of God thundered like thunder.

Adam knew that God is much more powerful than the archangels because he is their creator, but he never thought that he could tear the archangel from his vessel. For Adam, it sounded just wild — God can tear an archangel from a vessel.

"Say goodbye to Michael, little Adam. Or should I say little Milligan? Or little Winchester?" God pretended to be thinking, but Adam could not see it, because he was lying with his face buried in the ground and could not find the strength to not only get up, but even raise his head.

"Archangels cannot leave alive people whom they have made their vessels. It's unthinkable, you're a mistake that I'll fix," he barely managed to finish, snapped his fingers and Adam felt as if he was being torn apart. He screamed, unable to endure this unbearable pain.

Meanwhile, God left, leaving Adam writhing on the ground in pain.

***

They found themselves at the Cage. Shirley moved the archangel inside with just a touch on his shoulder, while he stayed outside.

"I can kill you with a snap of my fingers, Michael," God chuckled, coming closer.

Michael was silent, trying not to provoke his father into anything.

"Why are you silent? Answer me, son," God touched the bars of the Cage, easily penetrating inside even without a key. Michael froze in shock.

"You could have just walked in here..." he whispered.

Chuck smiled contentedly.

"Sure. And I could get you out too, but this is not your story, your story ended when you got into a Cage and you should not have gotten out of it!" Chuck raised his voice at the last words. "You are not included in this story, you are simply not there! Neither you, nor this Adam," he spat out the name with hatred and burst out laughing.

Michael lowered his head.

***

After regaining consciousness, Adam could not believe that this had actually happened. God took Michael — for what? — and Milligan had no doubt that Chuck would torment Michael, forcing him to join him in the fight against the Winchesters.

Speaking of them…

Adam groped in his pocket for his phone — thank goodness it didn't fall out and wasn't taken away — and found Sam's number in the contacts.

He answered immediately.

"Adam?"

"Please take me away," only a miracle prevented Adam from becoming hysterical when he heard his brother's voice.

"Where are you?" keys rattled on the other side of the phone and Dean's alarmed voice was heard "What happened?".

Adam dictated the address.

"We'll be there in two hours," Dean said into the phone, and then disconnected.

Milligan collapsed to the ground.

***

The brothers arrived even earlier.

"What happened?" Dean jumped out of the car, "are you okay?!"

Adam shook his head.

"Chuck… God took Michael."

"What?!" shock could be read on the faces of both older Winchesters, "how?"

"Where could he have gone?" Sam asked quickly.

"I think he went back to the Cage," Adam said after thinking for a couple of minutes.

Sam's eyes widened in fear. He inhaled and exhaled several times to calm down and ask:

"Are you sure about this?"

"I think Chuck put Michael back in the Cage," Adam's heart ached painfully at the very thought of it. He's all alone there…

The shock was reflected on Dean and Sam's faces. They exchanged glances.

"So how do we get there?"

***

"Nobody needs you but me, Michael," Shirley grinned, coming closer to the Cage.

"It's not true," the archangel snapped, his wings fluttering weakly behind his back.

"Well, look for yourself," the God said with mock indifference, waving his hand.

It seemed to Michael that the darkness surrounding the Cage had thickened around him.

"Hello, Michael," a voice was heard from the depths of the Cage, and then its owner came out into the light. Michael shuddered. He looked so much like Adam…

"You're not Adam," the archangel shook his head.

"Oh no, I'm Adam," the guy grinned.

He sat down next to him and gently touched his face with his hand, kissing him on the lips after a couple of seconds.

"What are you doing?" he asked breathlessly.

"I love you, and you love me," continuing to kiss him, Adam pulled off his pants, stroking the flesh.

He turned him over on his back, and then climbed on top of the man, turning his back to his face and snapped his fingers. At the same moment, stripes appeared out of the darkness that firmly bound the wrists and legs of the archangel, spreading them in different directions.

"That's enough!"

"Adam" raised his head, but did not get off Michael, continuing to hold him on the ground.

"I want it myself," Chuck smiled rapaciously, undressing, "and you can help me a little," he nodded to "Adam." He nodded in response and froze, waiting for instructions.

"Father, you yourself said it was blasphemous," Michael gasped.

"It doesn't bother me," the God smiled, climbing on top of him.

The next few days were a real Hell for Michael. No matter how much he begged, begged his Father to stop, he did not stop for a second. The biggest humiliation for him was that his Father forced him to suck him off, although the archangel tried to resist, he was powerless. "Adam" helped God in everything, and Michael began to suspect that this was some kind of angel or demon who took the form of Milligan.

Chuck kissed him wetly on the neck, descending a path of kisses below.

"You are not needed in heaven, you are not needed on earth, no one needs you except me..." he whispered, scorching the archangel's ear with hot breath.

Michael tried his best not to believe it, but it was getting harder. The worst thing for Michael was the fact that this body betrayed him, responding to the caresses of God and "Adam".

Shirley turned him over on his stomach, although Michael resisted, and began to stretch him.

Feeling the cold fingers inside him, Michael groaned and tried to pull away, but "Adam" held his hands tightly, and God sat on his legs, so he was in a hopeless position.

Then the fingers were replaced by a penis. Michael whimpered.

"Please, no…"

Chuck ignored him. He continued to hurt him, getting some kind of masochistic pleasure from it.

When God entered him, Michael almost choked with pain. His father hadn't stretched him enough, and now his every move was painful. Michael mumbled.

"Now you're dirty," God smiled, leaning closer to Michael's ear, "you don't deserve Adam Milligan, he's clean, and you're dirty," Chuck sang to him, "and you need me, just like I need you," he kissed him on the neck, which made the archangel shudder, "this is It wasn't that hard, Michael, was it? I can purify you."

Chuck got off the archangel, turning him over on his back. After a few seconds, his tongue touched the head of his son's penis and he realized that his mind was also leaving him. It hurt and scared him, but it felt good.

"Please," he whispered breathlessly, completely out of control, "please, hurry up…"

God gladly accelerated and after a few minutes Michael finished with a long moan.

"And now you work," Chuck got up, put his son on his knees, "take him in your mouth."

Michael hesitated.

"Well?!" God shouted.

He did not wait until Michael was mentally ready, but simply took his head and brought it closer to the penis.

"Father, please..." Michael tried again, but he was no longer listening to him.

"Open your mouth, Michael," God said deceptively softly.

Michael wanted to object and opened his mouth, but Chuck took advantage of his son's hitch and forcefully planted his head on his penis. Tears began to flow from Michael's eyes: it was too deep and too painful, but he couldn't say anything.

After a few minutes, Michael had already adjusted to the pace of his Father and automatically began to suck his cock.

Chuck groaned contentedly and after a while finished in Michael's mouth.

"I don't even know what I like better: Is it that I'm finally doing this with you or is it that you're taking the initiative yourself?" God chuckled contentedly. "We'll continue tomorrow."

Michael crawled away and lay still in the corner of the Cage, covering himself with his wings. Black feathers appeared on them.

***

The next day Michael tried to resist, but when God got tired of it, he broke Michael's wings.

He must have felt some special sadistic pleasure, pulling out the feathers one by one or in a bunch at once and breaking the bones of the archangel in sensitive wings.

Michael fell, feeling how wildly his broken wings hurt, feeling every broken bone and plucked feather.

"You are no longer an archangel, Michael," the Father pronounced these words as a sentence.

Michael lost consciousness from the pain.

"Well, they also say that archangels endure any pain," Chuck sighed in disappointment, getting out of the Cage outside.

***

Meanwhile, Adam and his brothers went looking for Billy, who was now performing the duties of Death, to get into the Cage. She agreed to help them, but, however, not immediately, she had to be begged.

"OK, I'll help you, but on one condition," Billie finally agreed.

"Which one?" The three brothers asked in unison.

"After Michael fully recovers, your soul will go to Heaven, as it should have been a long time ago," Billie turned to Adam.

"Good," Milligan agreed without hesitation.

"What? Adam, no!" the elder Winchester tried to dissuade his brother from such a deal.

"I have to get him out, Dean," Adam turned to him, "I owe him my life, he saved me more than twice. I have to help him. He didn't deserve it."

"But you haven't actually had time to live yet!"

"I love him, Dean, and I know he deserves a normal life, not his father's constant orders. Michael didn't want to get involved in this war, he wanted to live in peace, we wanted to see the world, but Chuck forcibly separated us and took him from me. We had no one in the Cage but each other and he took care of me, just as I took care of him. Lucifer wanted to torture me the same way he tortured Sam's soul, but Michael wouldn't let him do it. He's been protecting me, he's been protecting me all this time, and you're suggesting I leave him?! I can't do this," Adam shook his head, "I can't leave him there knowing that he's suffering because of his father."

"Adam…"

"Archangels should not have emotions and feelings, because they are not supposed to, but Michael is more human now than ten years ago. Of course, he has a lot to learn, but he tries to understand people," Adam said without looking at his brother.

"Adam, you're my brother and I love you, but are you absolutely sure about him? The fact that once he finds himself in a world without you, he will not arrange an apocalypse, like Michael from another universe?"

"He'll understand me," Milligan smiled.

"You'll have ten or fifteen minutes," Billie warned, "don't ask for more."

Milligan nodded. If only they could do it…

***

When the brothers were finally able to get to the Cage with Billy's help, which was now a new Death, a terrible picture opened up to their eyes. Michael lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood and a pile of black and white feathers and did not move.

"No..." Adam gasped, grabbing the bars of the Cage and immediately pulling his hands away, because the bars seemed red—hot, "Michael!" he exclaimed desperately.

Michael shuddered, looking up at Adam.

Meanwhile, the brothers and Billy have entered the Cage. The elders froze a little further away, and Adam came closer to Michael.

"Please don't touch me, don't touch me anymore," he muttered incessantly.

"Michael, please, it's me, Adam," Milligan said softly, gently extending his hand to him.

"It's not you, you can't be here," tears froze in the archangel's eyes.

"But I'm here, I've come for you."

"You can't be here, you're clean and bright, and I'm dirty and I belong in a Cage."

Adam shook his head violently.

"No, Michael, don't say that! Please take my hand and we'll get out of here."

"I can't, I'm waiting for my Father, he promised that he would soon cleanse me," Adam's eyes widened.

"Michael, you don't have to wait for him, he'll only hurt you," Adam's face twisted, "please come with me."

"No, I can't, I don't deserve you, I'm dirty…"

"Michael, I love you," Milligan looked into his eyes, "please come with me. I won't let anyone hurt you anymore."

"I've fallen, Adam, no one needs me, I'm powerless..." Michael began, but Adam pulled him up by the hand and he stood next to him.

"I need you, Michael, I really need you," the guy whispered, hugging him, "hold on to me."

They got out of the Cage, teleported and ended up near the bunker.

"I'll come back later for the payment," Billie nodded.

"Thank you," Adam replied to her.

She smiled and disappeared.

The Winchesters, Milligan and Michael entered the bunker.

***

A few days passed in a blur. Michael did not react in any way to the brothers' attempts to help him. Sam and Dean sat down to read books, but then Dean got tired of it and went hunting, leaving his brothers in the bunker.

"He broke him," Adam was shaking his head. He did not climb to the archangel, rightly believing that if he needed his help, he would call him, but to understand that he was coping with this situation alone was painful.

When Dean returned, the Winchesters found the case and left the bunker to air out and distract themselves a little from the problem with Michael. Adam was left alone with the archangel.

Milligan knocked on the door of the archangel's room.

"Can I come in?"

He opened the door cautiously. Michael was lying on the bed, indifferent to everything. Adam quietly slipped into the room, hesitated for a few seconds, deciding whether he could sit down or stand up, and carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, anxiously peering into the archangel's eyes.

"Please, Michael, let me help you," Adam said softly, "everything will be fine. Let me in."

"You don't want to see this," Michael shook his head. Milligan started in surprise. These were the first words the archangel said after he was pulled out of the Cage.

"Michael…"

"Not now, please," he said pleadingly. And Adam nodded obediently.

"Did you make a deal with death?"

Michael's voice wasn't surprised, he was scared. Adam turned to him.

"Michael, I…"

The latter quickly approached him.

"Please tell me you didn't do it," he asked, looking into the guy's eyes.

"I... did it," Adam gasped.

"Why?"

"She helped us get you out."

"Okay, so what did she ask for in exchange for my freedom?" Michael asked impatiently.

Adam said nothing.

"Adam, tell me," Michael squinted suspiciously.

"My soul," Milligan said softly, without looking up at the elder archangel.

Michael groaned.

"Adam, why? You understand that this is too high a price to pay for my salvation. You have to live…"

"No!" Adam shook his head violently. "Don't say that. I'm willing to do anything for you."

"But the price…"

"You've saved my life countless times, Michael, risking yourself and your powers. It's time for me to repay you in kind," Adam said firmly, squeezing Michael's hand in his.

Suddenly Michael frowned.

"A few weeks ago you asked to be let in. Do you still want it?" Looking closely at Milligan's face, he asked.

"Yes," Adam said confidently.

Michael smiled bitterly and asked:

"Will you let me in?"

Adam had one answer to that.

The same as always.

Yes.

***

As soon as Michael was inside Adam's mind, Adam immediately asked:

"Do you want to show me something?"

Instead of answering, Michael put his fingers against Adam's temples and Adam choked on the feelings and emotions that suddenly fell on him.

"You could have just walked in here…"

"...your story ended when you got into a Cage and you should not have gotten out of it! You are not included in this story, you are simply not there!.."

"Please, no…"

"You are not needed in heaven, you are not needed on earth, no one needs you except me..."

"Now you're dirty, you don't deserve Adam Milligan, he's clean, and you're dirty, and you need me, just like I need you. this is It wasn't that hard, Michael, was it? I can purify you."

For the first couple of seconds after the visions disappeared, Adam blinked dumbfounded, trying to make sense of what he had just seen.

"Now you've seen everything," Michael's lips curled into a kind of grin, he even moved away from the man a couple of steps.

Adam's heart sank.

"I'm so sorry, Michael..." he whispered softly.

Several seconds passed in agonizing silence before Milligan asked:

"Can I give you a hug?"

Mikhail raised his eyebrows, looked at Adam for a couple of moments, and then slowly nodded.

"I shouldn't have let him separate us, I'm sorry, Michael, I love you, I'm sorry..." Adam whispered incessantly, gently hugging Michael.

"You couldn't have stopped him," he shook his head, "it's not your fault," he ruffled Milligan's hair and lifted the corner of his lips in a semblance of a smile.

"I love you," Adam walked around him and buried his face in the man's shoulder blades somewhere.

"I love you too," his gaze softened, Michael smiled and hugged Adam back.

***

"What were the terms of your deal with Death?" Michael asked, putting things in a closet in his room in the bunker. He still continued to use the young John Winchester, whom he had pulled out of 1978 as a vessel.

"When you fully come to your senses, my soul will go to Heaven, as it should have been a long time ago," Milligan repeated Billy's words.

Michael dropped everything he was holding.

"Adam…"

He carefully walked around the bed and sat down next to his vessel.

"You can't leave," Michael pleaded, taking Adam's hand in his.

"Michael, this is a deal with Death," Adam frowned, "and she's already done her part: she got you out of the Cage."

"But you can't leave me," Michael looked at Milligan hopefully.

"I love you too," Adam whispered tenderly, gently kissing the man.

***

Billie came in three days later.

Adam got out of bed with the thought that he was going to die today. But there was no fear, there was only regret that he would not be able to show Michael the whole world, as they dreamed.

"You can't take him away from me," to Adam's surprise, Billie was already here and talking to her…

"Michael..." Adam said.

"Take it better than me!" Michael suddenly suggested, looking back at the guy. Adam stared at him.

"No!" Milligan immediately argued.

The scythe of Death was already uncovered and Billie was just waiting for the end of their argument.

"According to the contract, I take one life," she reminded.

"And it will be me," Adam nodded.

"No," Michael interrupted immediately.

"Maybe we won't wake everyone up, but just go outside?" Death suggested quite peacefully. Michael and Adam silently left the bunker, Billie followed them, holding a scythe in her hands.

It was raining heavily outside, almost a downpour. Adam and Michael froze in place, but then moved a few steps away from the bunker.

"I made a deal with Death, so I have to pay, I have to be responsible for my actions!" Milligan exclaimed, waving his arms.

"But I can't let you die, Adam. Have you thought about what my life will be like without you? We wanted to see the world together, and now what?"

"And now you're going to do it without me."

"I can't do it like that," Michael shook his head.

He thought for a couple of seconds, then a sparkle appeared in his eyes. He nodded to himself, then looked sideways at Billy. She nodded.

Mikhail bent down to Adam's face and greedily kissed him on the lips, as if putting all his love, regret and... it seems that he was saying goodbye to Adam. Adam just pushed those thoughts away.

Milligan wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to him, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I love you," Michael whispered, pulling away from him and smiling.

Adam barely had time to whisper an answering confession when a bright blue flash flashed. Milligan covered his eyes with his hands, and when it went out he looked around.

"No!!!"

He fell to his knees, sobbing and stretching out his hands to Michael lying on the ground, thick dark blood was flowing from a wound on his stomach, and grace was leaving from a cut throat.

"Michael, please, no, no, no..." he whispered in panic, clutching the terrible wound with his hands.

He turned to Billy.

"You can revive him, right? Please…"

She shook her head.

"No, Adam, and I'm sorry.…"

"You can revive him, can't you?!"

"It's the price of the deal, Adam, and he's made his choice. He wanted to die for you."

"But he shouldn't have died! It should have been me!"

"Sorry, kid."

Billie left, leaving him alone.

But he won't just give up. After all, he's half a Winchester.

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