#generally me fighting them off desperately and them not understanding and still pushing me

[longhardtransitionreturns]

Author's note: This is birth and medical fiction. It's all fake, just a fantasy. Of course I don't want this to happen to me or anyone in real life.

I'd like to have a high risk twin pregnancy. The type where I have to fight my obstetrician to let me try to give birth vaginally and then they try to insist I have an epidural so they can cut into me without delay if something goes wrong. I'll finally get them to agree to let me try it natural if I am invasively monitored throughout and I understand I'm going under general anesthesia the second things go south.

When the day comes for me to be induced, I change into a hospital gown & follow nurses instructions as they put IV ports in both of my wrists. I'm catheterized -- a situation that isn't made any more pleasant by the twinges already squeezing my middle -- and by the time I'm being strapped into the stirrups for the doctor to swipe my membranes, I'm so trussed up I can barely move.

It's my first pregnancy & I didn't expect it to hurt so much just to be pregnant. My hips have been sore practically the whole nine months, in part because of how heavy and low I am carrying the twins. Baby A practically lodged himself between my hips last week and the pressure has been slowly increasing. My breasts are cumbersome and it's painful to even feel the hospital gown brush against my areolas. By the time the doctor is settling between my legs to start my labor, I'm eager to face whatever delivery holds for me to make this pregnancy end.

I'm singing a whole different tune 16 hours later. Or rather, screaming one at the top of my lungs. I am in the throes of transition and suffering the pinnacle of a truly agonizing labor. Baby A is posterior and the pain in my back has me at the edge of my sanity, especially now that the contractions are lasting for 90 seconds, with barely a minute in between.

I'm incoherent at this point. I'm in so much pain I'm only able to think about surviving the second I am living. I'm minimally aware when the nurses move my aching body back into the stirrups so I can push my son into the world. I bear down at their direction and it feels like my ass is gonna bust when his head plunges down.

What actually happens is his precious posterior facial features lodge against my clit as a desperate push shoves him just past crowning and my poor little nub starts to sting. It feels like it's being ripped off and I'm humiliated to find I'm begging my doctor to save my clitoris while I'm straining a massive baby out of me.

I don't know how long I howl a about the pain in my clitoris but the next thing I know the doctor is roughly pulling the shoulders and then the body out of my hole, tearing me more in the process.

I'm aware that my aching canal is empty for the moment. I don't realize I am gaped so badly my asshole is almost inverted. It stings something fierce as birth fluids continue to pour out of my loose, sopping cunt. I start to cry when I realize I am still going to have to push Baby B through my ruined pussy.

I drift in and out of consciousness, occasionally aware of the sharp stab of a contraction. I wake fully to a nurse tapping my cheek to see if I've passed out. When I force my eyes open, she informs me Baby B isn't face down anymore and the doctor is about to perform an internal version. She tells me to brace myself because it will be uncomfortable.

I didn't fully realize the medical actuality of an internal version was for a grown man to stick his entire grown man hand through my cervix and into my uterus. I'm in such utter agony I barely register that the nurses are holding me down by my arms and where my thighs are not strapped to the stirrups. I am experiencing the most pain I have experienced up to this point in my life and it seems to last forever.

I never stop screaming, even when they put a mask pumping gas over my face to try to give me some relief, but the tenor of my yell changes when something shifts and then I feel something rip deep inside of me.

Suddenly all the pain that has come before pales in comparison to what I am suddenly feeling in my abdomen. It is indescribable burning combined with a sudden sense of dread that takes over my body. I am 100% certain that my reproductive organs just gave way with my daughter trapped inside me and I am going to die if something isn't done very, very soon.

It must only be minutes, maybe not even that long, that I lay there while the medical team catches up to the realization that me and my baby are in mortal danger. Time slows down and I feel the rip in my uterus expanding as the contractions, one on top of another now, injure me more by the second. Despite no medical knowledge, I know instinctively that the renewed flood out of my pussy is blood and I am hemorrhaging, possibly to death.

I am utterly helpless now. Strapped down in stirrups, paralyzed by pain, my strength seeping from me as fast as the blood flowing between my legs. I faintly register the monitors start to alarm as I lose the battle with consciousness and my world goes dark.

*******

I wake up groggy and disoriented on a stretcher being wheeled somewhere. I immediately start to panic because there is a tube down my throat and I am really, brutally aware of a long, deep vertical incision that extends from above my belly button down to my public bone. I swear I can feel the layers upon layers they sliced through to deliver my baby. I won't know until later about the battle the surgeons waged, first to save my life and then to save my fertility.

Right now I am only aware of how much it hurts to be jostled on a stretcher with a massive cut down my middle. When the two male nurses move me into the bed, I plead for unconsciousness as my body is roughly transferred to a bed. My tailbone hits the mattress and reverberates in the form of a sharp pain through my pussy. I've still got a catheter and I feel like every inch down there has been stitched up.

I hope one of these nurses will realize I am aware and therefore in indescribable pain but it seems like the paralytic they gave me before intubating me is the only drug of the cocktail still in effect. I suffer as they lift my hips and put a pillow under my butt. Then they start taking off my hospital gown completely.

My confusion quickly turns to fear as one gloved hand on each side grabs one of my fat titties and starts tugging. Breast pumps are whipped out and the men make quick work of shoving as much of my massive milkers in to each before turning them on simultaneously.

My uterus, even after the brutal surgical repair, still tries to respond to my milk suddenly dropping. The pain of contracting after uterine repair and a cesarean combined with the sudden gush of warm pressure on my aching tits brings tears to my eyes. I must be a strange sight: intubated and naked, massive breasts attached to pumps, with my deflated belly sporting a huge incision hanging above a pussy so bruised and stitched it looks entirely purple.

The elder nurse pats my naked thigh just before he makes to leave. It jostles everything and our eyes meet as I wince at the pain it causes me. A chill runs through my body as I realize he knows I am awake and feeling way more than I should be.

He looks at me the entire time he lubes his gloved fist, a sinister smile on his face. He settles between my legs and pauses to look up at me again.

"I bet you wish you'd had that epidural, huh, dear?"

My vision goes white as I feel his whole fist plunge into my pussy with a force absolutely intended to cause me a fatal amount of pain. My vision goes white and I feel pressure building in my chest as the stitches holding my cervix together start ripping. The last thought I have before I go into cardiac arrest is how I don't want to my last memory to be of being brutally fisted in my obliterated, post-birth pussy while my heart explodes in my chest.

#birth kink #labor and delivery #maesiophilia #preggo kink #painful birth #giving birth #birth #hospital birth #medfet #pregnant #surgical fet #surgery #dark cardiophilia #dark medfet

[sherlockggrian]

we talk a lot about desert duo character development, but I wanna talk about shiny duo for a second because I think it’s fucking INCREDIBLE

(disclaimer, a lot of this is made up lore and headcanons lol)

Pearl and Gem were always pretty close, even though I think? they met in season 8? They’ve always been a duo but Gem was generally the more energetic, smily and over excited one. I think Pearl’s been more reserved even in her ridiculous moments, whereas Gem tended to wear her heart on her sleeve and have a very straightforward, “lets fix it” approach to things. I do think Pearl was the one that fell in love with Gem first, but sort of pushed it away, while Gem was very forward with her attention and did love and cling to Pearl a lot. The life games, especially Double Life, affected Pearl a lot and I think she sort of pulled away from Gem for a bit. Pearl was the killer at this point and Gem was sort of still playing the character of wanting to make everything better, being nice and bubbly and not understanding what Pearl was feeling.

But Gem being in Secret Life really took them to the next level in my opinion. They were close all throughout season 9 obviously, but I see Gem being in the life series as her own choice - she loved Pearl and so desperately wanted to help her and the others and to understand them. Gem at this point is a lot more of a fighter and a little crazier than she used to be, and Secret Life just feeds that and preys on it. At the same time, she trusts Pearl. She wants to be her friend. Pearl knows how the games end, and that there’s no avoiding the ending and no avoiding death. They leave Secret Life with Pearl feeling relieved that she didn’t at least have to kill Gem herself, and Gem feeling bitter and angry that Pearl betrayed her.

And their relationship after Secret Life really gets me tbh. Gem has visibly gone for a darker, more serious vibe to her base and clothing, leaving behind the usual, sunny cottage-corey theme. Pearl is finally trying to heal herself, but has based a little ways away from Impulse and Gem and her older friends. Gem trains for the next life series, she’s determined and she’s angry and Pearl is rejecting it. In a way their characters kind of flipped, from Pearl being the furious killer one to Gem being it. They fight like crazy and they still love each other. They are absolutely my favourite duo at the moment and I cannot wait to see what happens further with them and how their story turns out. Again I’ve made most of this up but it’s based off of canon events so I don’t really care. Goodnight

#this is straight up late night yappi g dont know what to tell you all #shinyduo #gempearl #hermitcraft #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #hermitshipping #trafficblr #secret life #double life

[substituted-shinigami]

Hey guys...

Is… Is this Rukia’s weird roundabout way of saying "I love you"?

(More under the cut cause it gets kinda long XD)

Let me start off by saying that I’m more of a Bleach anime watcher than a manga reader, so I never saw this full scene until I happened to read an old Polynya post about it. (It’s really good, you should check it out!)

I had seen the second part, mostly in a humorous context about how Renji fails to conceal himself, but now that I have seen the full thing, it really kind of clicked for me. This isn’t just Rukia being instructive. This is Rukia’s weird and very roundabout way of saying "I love you" to Renji. 

Now when I say that, I’m not saying this is Rukia’s big confession scene. I think she either confessed before or after this. If she confessed before, this is a confirmation. If she hasn’t, this is a “Listen, I desperately want to tell you I love you. I really, really do. But this isn’t exactly the time, what with the war and all, and also I’m still not sure if you’re in love with me (because I’m a bit of a lunkhead when it comes to these things). So instead, maybe I can just get the feeling across without actually having to say the words out loud.” So yeah, not a confession, just either a confirmation or a beating around the bush. Anyway, let’s get into it.

Let’s look at the first line.

“We’re gonna be landing right in the middle of enemy territory. If we’re surrounded we’ll be at a disadvantage even with our training.”

This tells me that she already sees them as a pair. Although to be fair, they would be fighting together (eventually anyway, after they split up and rejoin), so whether she means this romantically or not is a little more vague.

Let’s actually talk about the last part next since it’s the one I think circulates around more.

“So… …conceal yourself after every battle. Do not let the enemy get a jump on you! You got that?! Renji!!”

Now at first glance, this may come off as “typical Rukia bossiness” or in other words “typical Rukia”. But I don’t know, to me, it comes off more as a plea? I think it’s how it’s broken up. “Conceal yourself after every battle.” (stay hidden, stay safe) “Do not let the enemy get the jump on you! (your safety is more important to me than you beating up a bunch of bad guys) “You got that?! Renji!! (I need you and you specifically to get through this. You are important to me.) Now I’m pretty new to this whole writing thing, but I do know that generally when a writer/character repeats something, it’s because it’s pretty friggin’ important. So the fact that she repeats phrases asking for his safety, tells me that it’s really important to her. She’s not telling him to stay safe, she’s begging. Also, something about how she says his name here reminds me of how she said his name on Sokyoku Hill. I think it’s how it’s separated. It’s not, ‘You got that, Renji?” It’s “You got that?! Renji!!” as if to emphasize the way she is saying his name. It’s almost another way of saying, “You specifically are important to me.”

Now let’s go back to the second part, the line I’m not sure I had even seen until I saw the post.

“And knowing the way you fight, you’ll quickly attract attention.” “I’ll live with that. I’ve accepted it.”

This. This right here was the main line. She doesn't say, “I’ll deal with it”. Instead she says, “I’ll live with that. I’ve accepted it.” She understands his faults and has chosen to live with and accept them. She has chosen to accept him. That’s honestly pretty huge. I can't remember the last time someone has said that they understand my failings and accept them! I know I have people in my life who do, but to feel comfortable saying it all out loud is a whole nother thing! The shipper in me pushes the "I'll live with that" line further to “I want to live with you”, but that uh… might be pushing it past it’s intended meaning. xD

So we got Rukia seeing them as a pair specifically. Then you have her saying she understands his faults and has accepted them to the point that she has chosen to live with them. Lastly, you have her begging for his safety, reminding him that he is important to her, and calling out his name.

Or in other words, “I see us together. I accept you as you are. You are important to me. I want you specifically.”

And if that’s not a weird, roundabout, Rukia version of “I love you”, I’m not sure what is!!! xD

#Bleach #Bleach tybw #bleach tybw spoilers #tybw spoilers #renruki #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #renji x rukia #like I said #I don't think this was her big confession or anything #but #can you imagine if it was? #And she was just this vague about it?! #top tier Rukia content right there #poor Renji gotta read through ALL the lines #She's so vague that he doesn't get it at first #only for the war to end #this scene to pop into his head again #and he's like WAIT A MINUTE #WERE YOU CONFESSING?!?! #and she's like #Yes? Was that not obvious? #Truly she is Byakuya's sister xD

[h-worksrambles]

It kind of saddens me how much Asgore’s character just gets boiled down to ‘funny divorce man who pines over Toriel’. There’s so much more to his character as far as I’m concerned.

Asgore is quite possibly one of the most tragic characters in the entire game. He’s such a genuinely sweet and compassionate person. He’s a great dad. He loves his people and will do anything to keep them safe and happy. And those positive traits are exactly what lead him to commit himself to do something awful. And it’s painful to see how trapped Asgore feels by his past mistakes, so that showing him there’s another way and that he isn’t as beyond redemption as he thinks he is feels really cathartic. Toby Fox managed to give him so much nuance in such few scenes. And yet, Asgore gets scraps of fan content compared to the other major characters. And when it does, he’s often reduced to a clingy ex.

This is especially irksome when you go back to the game and remember that he’s not…actually very clingy at all. Yes, Asgore still loves Toriel, of course he does. But let’s go back to that scene where they meet again in the Pacifist ending. Asgore is delighted to finally see her again at first. But the second he sees that Toriel is (understandably) still furious with him, he backs off. He takes full responsibility for what happened between them and understands that, even if he misses her, he has no right to demand the relationship that he basically threw away. I feel like people who write Asgore as desperately wanting Toriel to forgive him kind of forget that Asgore can’t even forgive himself for what he’s done. He’s actually painfully self aware of his own flaws to the point of self loathing. He was fully prepared to lose the fight against Frisk and die because he felt he deserved it after all he’d done. And do I need to mention what he potentially does if you spare him on repeat playthroughs?

And I don’t even necessarily say this to tear down the ‘Asgoriel’ ship. Truth be told, I actually like this ship quite a lot. As I’ve already somewhat touched on in my Post Pacifist Headcanons, I actually think there’s a lot of compelling story potential in seeing two people who were deeply in love and happy, wrenched apart by tragedy and poor decisions, unpacking their complicated history and figuring out how to be around each other again. Especially if they both become parental figures to Frisk. With or without the shipping aspect, and regardless of if they actually get back together, that’s a great dramatic hook that can be really interesting if written well. And I have seen it written well. But execution is everything. It’s all too easy to flanderise the two by making Asgore too clingy, Toriel too mean-spirited or just generally downplaying how messy their past is to speed up what should be a long, difficult process. Again, I like this pairing, but not when it’s mishandled in a way that ignores why I liked these characters to begin with. And that’s to say nothing of when Asgore’s supposed clinginess is used to make him the bad guy to ship Toriel with someone else, which…(sigh).

And if this was all purely in fan content, I wouldn’t really care that much. It’s not like I have to read it if I don’t want to. But this is actually my one fear about Deltarune so far. Don’t misunderstand me, Deltarune has been fantastic so far. But the way it’s used Asgore has left a really bad taste in my mouth. So far, he’s been little more than a punching bag who’s situation is comically pathetic. And the way he still chases after Toriel irks me. Now he is doing the clingy ‘Tori take me back!’ routine and I really don’t like it. This doesn’t feel like a character who’s self aware of his mistakes, and takes too much of a burden on himself. This is someone treating his mistakes like they’re fixable, pushing the responsibility for that onto Toriel in a way I don’t believe Asgore would do. It feels like fandom misinterpretation leaking back into canon. I’m still interested in hearing what the history of the Dreemurr family is this time, and how it links back to Dess. I trust Toby Fox’s writing enough to believe this is being done with the intention of building a character arc. But I can’t deny that so far, it feels like an overly mean-spirited and out of character take (though a lot of that is born out of my personal attachment to him).

I’m not even sure what my point was with this. I guess I just wanted to respond to a fandom trend that leaves me with sour taste in my mouth. I don’t really wanna tell people making memes about Asgore being ‘the most divorced man ever’ to stop having fun. Nor do I care to get into shipping debates. I just wish the discussion of this character was a little more nuanced, because I think he’s well written enough to deserve it.

#asgore dreemurr #characterisation #character analysis #undertale #deltarune #undertale spoilers #cw death mention #cw sui mention

[azems-familiar]

any thoughts on Cal's embracing the darkness? specifically...darkside!cal/bode.....👀

oh BOY do i have thoughts, actually. for both of these. i'm actually currently working on a fic (sitting at a little over 5k and probably going to be ~10k when it's done) which goes AU on Nova Garon and involves Cal fighting Bode there.

thoughts on Cal falling in general: yes, absolutely, i am so here for it, i love corruption arcs and i feel like this one is really well-built. from the beginning of the game we see how he's been struggling, how he's gotten darker and darker over the gap - he no longer reaches out to Ninth Sister (that it's time to set you free line right before he murders the shit out of her made me GASP), he's been working with Saw (who we know to use a lot of unsavory methods to the point that it got him disowned from the greater rebel alliance), he's been alone (which he never handles well At All). he consistently chooses to fight even when he shouldn't, he's not letting go of anything, he's gotten desperate. it makes sense. to me, Cal is the kind of person who pretends he's fine until he absolutely cannot anymore, whether that's hiding injuries or willfully refusing to realize he can't cope with things emotionally, and i feel like that's fairly well supported by the fact that the rest of the found family has each gone their own ways because they needed to make strides forward for themselves they couldn't while they were with him, no matter how much they love him, and because they can't help him until/unless he wants to be helped.

Cal also doesn't handle betrayal well, on top of Cere's death being the second time he's lost a master. to me, it's no surprise that he completely snaps on Jedha, and i think his fall is reinforced by a) the massacre on Nova Garon b) the fact that he outright refuses to listen to/understand Bode. Cal i think has a very black and white worldview due to his trauma and his youth in which he sees the Empire as a monolith and puts the crimes of the Empire onto every single person who serves it, and he struggles to understand why people would give in rather than choose to fight. i think we spend the game with him watching him run more and more on anger against the Empire as well as his desperation for Tanalorr, and that anger becomes more and more selfish until we get the snap on Jedha. honestly i think with the way the early game was written, even if Cere hadn't died, he would've still fallen, just possibly not when he did. it's been building up to that.

(i also love redemption arcs, i will say, but for a truly satisfying redemption arc you have to hit rock bottom first, and i want to push Cal there.)

in terms of fallen!Cal/Bode - also very much for this. part of this is just because i think the two of them killing people as fallen Jedi together is attractive and also what they deserve <3 but honestly narratively i think it just... works. mostly we'd just need Cal to work through his anger at the betrayal and actually properly understand why Bode did what he did (which is what i'm working on in the oneshot i'm writing), and to find a solution for everything that assuages Bode's paranoia. i do also think that with time, Bode could be convinced to return to fighting the Empire, especially if he knew Kata would be safe while he did it, but he's been through a lot and he's not there yet. but it's very clear that he doesn't like the Empire (only working with the ISB because he sees it as the only way to keep Kata safe), and i think it's also quite clear that he cares a great deal about Cal and didn't want to betray him at the point he did, but that he saw it as a choice between Cal's safety and Kata's safety and the latter had to be his highest priority. i absolutely don't think he'd find fallen!Cal any kind of turn-off, let's be real here, and honestly it's a dynamic i want to explore more of, maybe in AUs or something? i'm tossing around an inquisitor!Bode enemies to lovers au concept that might eventually turn into a fic at some point...

i may have gone slightly off topic here. anyway my thoughts on these are Yes, Yes, and More Yes, also i will go into an explanation of why i think Cal is actually fallen and not just struggling if people want. and also my final thought is that the Dagan parallel in this game is actually Cal and i will expand on this if asked to

#asked and answered #jedi survivor #cal kestis #bode akuna #spyscrapper #i got this ask and was like GREAT time to ramble #hopefully this is not too long and comes close to answering you. unfortunately i tend to wander off #unless i'm given specifics and even then sometimes. it's the adhd

[meerlichts]

For the hurt/comfort prompt, would you do 5."C'mere, let me hold you-" with Fox and Wolffe, or Fox and any of his sibling ? Only if you feel like it of course

I really enjoy your writing and your characterization of all the clone troopers, thank you for sharing it

(Content warning for alcohol mention plus a character being drunk.)

Fox stands in the doorway, swaying from side to side just the slightest, hands holding onto the wall on each side. He’s still wearing his full armor and Wolffe can smell the alcohol from where he’s standing.

“Hey, Fox,” he says casually. His fingers tap onto the cup he’s holding. “Can I help you?”

Fox stands straighter. Or, at least, tries to. “Didn’t know you’d be planet-side,” he says, and yeah, definitely drunk. Wolffe wonders if here’s here to pick a fight.

“Fox,” he says. “Listen. I don’t know how you got into this ship in your state, but I’m sure your vode miss you. They’re probably looking for you all over the place.”

He stands and moves to put away the cup of caf he’d emptied. When he looks back at the door, Fox is still standing there.

“Well, do you want something?” Wolffe asks.

“I,” Fox says. His voice breaks. “I wanted to see you.”

Wolffe sighs. “You’ve seen me now. Go to bed, Fox. You’re drunk as shit.”

Fox still isn’t moving. Wolffe turns back to his cup, makes a mental note to go get more caf from Sinker, later. He only turns his head when there’s a sudden sound that almost sounds like a suppressed sob.

Fox’s helmet is off. It’s hanging by his side as he’s wiping his face with his other hand, and—

“Are you crying?” Wolffe asks.

Fox flinches. His face twists. “M’sorry,” he blurts. “I don’t want to cry. You’re right. I’m drunk.” He hiccups, and the helmet drops to the floor. Fox leans down to grab it and topples over, coming up on the floor with a quiet oof.

“Fuck, Fox,” Wolffe says, forgetting about the caf and getting on his knees beside Fox. The door glides shut behind them. Fox groans.

“Are you going to puke?” Wolffe asks. “D’you need a bucket?”

“I—I feel dizzy.”

“Maker, how much moonshine did you have,” Wolffe mutters, taking Fox’s helmet and pushing it into his brother’s hands. “Put that back on. I’m bringing you back to your barracks.”

“I jus’ thought it’d make me feel less bad.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s not a good coping mechanism. You should know better.”

Fox swallows. He’s not looking at Wolffe but he hasn’t stopped crying. Tears glide down his cheeks.

Wolffe sighs. “Why are you crying, Fox?” he asks, almost helplessly.

Fox eyes glide over him, and then he shrugs, swallowing again. “I jus’ miss you. I know y’don’t love me anymore, but I still miss you,” he says.

Wolffe pauses and blinks. “What?” he asks.

Fox looks at him. “It’s okay,” he says, as if to comfort him. “I wouldn’t love me either. Jus’ hurts. Even though it’s my fault. And it’s also kinda—it’s not. But I didn’t wan’ you t’worry. Or do somethin’ stupid. But I miss you.”

He hiccups, and suddenly something in his eyes turns desperate. “I jus’ want out of ‘ere. Wolffe, I don’t want to be here anymore. It’s never enough. I’m not enough. Can you get us out? You’re—you do rescue missions. This one’s a lot bigger. But still the same thing, right?”

“Fox, what the fuck are you talking about,” Wolffe says.

“It’s not safe here. We’re not safe.”

“Coruscant is the safest place for you to be. It’s—“

“No,” Fox sobs, and Wolffe stops in his tracks, because he’s never heard Fox sob like that before. Something in his chest twists. “It’s not, Wolffe. We’re dying. I’m dying. And, and, the fucking Senators… And I can’t protect my family, even though I try. I’m just so tired, Wolffe. Please get us out.”

“You’re dying?” Wolffe asks. Fox doesn’t seem to hear him. He shakes his head, shrinking away.

“I’m sorry, Wolffe,” he whispers. “I’m asking for too much. I know I am. I just wish we had someone like—General Koon. I wish I could fucking do something. But I can’t. Wolffe, do you understand? I can’t do anything. I just can’t do anything.”

Fox is sobbing in earnest, now, babbling incoherently. Wolffe tries to process any of his words and fails miserably, hands hovering above his knees and fighting the urge to reach out. He hangs onto the part of Fox’s drunken ramblings that’s the most unbelievable.

“You think I don’t love you?”

Fox blinks at him through his tears, breathing heavily, and stops talking. He looks utterly confused.

“I know you don’t,” he mumbles.

And Wolffe wants to cry now, too. He stares at Fox face as he feels his body crumble into itself, feels his shoulders slump and his head sink. “Fox,” Wolffe whispers. “Of course I love you. You’re my batchmate.”

“But you’re always angry with me.”

Wolffe opens his mouth and closes it again, and Fox looks at him, with glassy eyes and wet cheeks, and Wolffe finds that there’s nothing he can say. His gut twists.

“Wolffe?” Fox asks.

“Fuck,” Wolffe says, and opens his arms. Fox blinks, frowning.

“Just—C’mere, Fox. Let me hold you, please,” Wolffe says because he doesn’t know what else to do, ignoring the way his cheek feels wet. Fox definitely notices. His face twists again.

When he finally falls forward he crumbles into Wolffe’s arms with a choked sob. Wolffe slings himself around him, holding tightly, and Fox buries his face in the nape of Wolffe’s neck as Wolffe rests his head on Fox’s shoulder, inhaling sharply.

“I’ve got’cha,” Wolffe mutters, stroking his fingers through Fox’s curls. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, the tension seeps out of Fox, until he’s lying in Wolffe’s arms, slumped over, apparently drained of all strength. His breathing slows.

Wolffe makes a decision.

“You’re staying with me tonight,” he says, and, fuck, yeah, he’s crying. His voice wavers. Fox continues crying softly, and though Wolffe isn’t sure if he can hear him, he keeps talking. “You’re going to stay with me, and in the morning we’ll talk, and I’ll do everything I can to help you. That sound okay?”

Fox nods. Wolffe feels it more than he sees it.

Only a few minutes later Fox falls asleep like that, still hugging Wolffe. Wolffe hadn’t thought he’d be this exhausted, but then again, apparently there’s a lot of things he didn’t know.

#meer writes #Commander Fox #Commander Wolffe #yea i love them too. #have this which is incredibly niche #but oh well. Practice is prace and i hope u can at least enjoy it #also thank you for the kind words :)

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 5: Fuck The Cape

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

TW: depictions of near drowning, memories of parental abuse & neglect, smoking, drinking, fights (not graphic), unhealthy coping mechanisms, panic attacks, general stress, I know nothing about cameras or photography, emotional vulnerability.

“I can’t do it!" I cried out as the waves tossed against me. The sun was still high in the sky, blinding slivers of light reflecting off of the moving water and shining into my eyes as I desperately tried to stay above water.

The boat only a few movements away bobbed on the surface, groaning with each shift of the waves. "You either sink or swim, Lena." The voice was soft and nurturing, but the words were anything but. "And Glovers don't sink."

Water crashed over my head, forcing me beneath the surface for a moment before I managed to push myself back to the top. I freedom sucked in as much air as I could, wide eyes looking at the half-shaded figure lounging on the boat. "Mom please!"

With a sigh, she shook her head as she stood. "Sink or swim."

The roar of the engine ripped along the surface of the water as the boat eased further and further away from me, back toward the shore. My heavy breaths did little the warm the cold that settled in my limbs as they moved, struggling to keep me afloat. With hot tears blurring my vision I forced myself to swim forward.

Salty. Sweet. Bitter. The water hit my tongue each time my heavy limbs splashed above the water. Each time it was a different taste, a different sensation that filled my brain with a moment of distraction. The taste, however potent, did little to help keep me from sinking as the fatigue finally set in. My eyes burned each time I forced my head to breach the surface, taking in as many sharp breaths of the frozen air as I could before sinking deeper and deeper into the ever-darkening water.

Sink or swim.

With one last push of my arms, I forced myself above the water and fumbled for the ledge of the buoy. My frozen fingers curled around the even colder surface as I tugged myself closer to the bright red material. It swayed with the waves, chaotic and violent but I held on. The sun began to set over the sparkling horizon and as night fell I could only wait and pray she would come back for me soon.

Sink or swim.

"Lena?" Howard called on the other end of the phone. "Are you still there?" The red buoy caught the light as I stared across the shimmering water, stuck in echoes of the waves and the cries of the birds, everything that held the bitter memories of a girl lost to this sea.

"Yeah… Yeah, I'm still here." I sighed, tearing my eyes away from the ocean and forcing my breaths in and out. Just breathe. "Sorry, I… got distracted."

Howard made a noise of acknowledgment. "Perfectly understandable. I take it you found somewhere nice and secluded to rest and maybe have some fun?"

My eyes shifted once again to that damn red buoy. "Secluded is definitely a fitting word. Sorry, again, for giving you such short notice."

"Don't worry about it," he insisted. "I'm well versed in keeping the restaurant afloat through sudden changes."

A sharp tingle ran through my limbs, forcing them to recall the numb heaviness of fatigue that had stemmed from keeping me afloat on those damn waves. "Still, I'm sure Scott won't be too happy about it."

"Scott will understand. Enjoy your vacation, Lena, you've earned it."

"Yeah... I will," I lied. "Thanks again, Howard."

"See you in a few days."

I squeezed the closed phone in my hands trying to stave off the numbness before it spread to my legs. God, I was so stupid. I knew what Cape fucking Cod held… I knew what would happen when I got here and yet I came anyway. I always did. At this point, it was some sick and twisted ritual that forced me to face the past and move on. Except the last part never happened. Instead of sorting my shit out and moving on, I spent my time either avoiding it all with booze and drugs and fights or by stupidly diving headfirst into the worst of it all and reopening every damn wound I worked so hard to mend. I'm so fucking stupid, I told myself again as I walked back towards the house. This is fucking stupid! 

The beach house was exactly how I left it, covered in broken glass and empty bottles of whatever booze she left lying around before she left. I walked over the glass, intentionally stepping down harder to ensure it’d shatter into even smaller more difficult pieces to clean up, and made my way to the kitchen. There was nothing to eat, never was, but there was always plenty of wine and whisky and right now that was all I needed. Pulling a bottle off the counter I sat down on the floor, looking out across the floor of glittering glass and dust, I flipped my phone open and dialed the number without sparing a second glance.

Ring. Ring. Ring. “Hello?” My breath caught in my throat as tears began to fill my eyes. “Just kiddin, you’ve reached Jack Harrow leave a message after the beep or whatever.” Beep.

“Hey pops,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “It’s Lena… I… I just wanted to hear your voice, you know that sentimental shit or whatever. Pete’s coming home next week. He’s not out of the woods yet, but he’s looking better than he has in years and I hope this is the thing that actually works for him, ya know? He deserves to get better and to live the rest of his life. Oz has the bar pretty much under control, though I think he misses having you around to mess with. Patrick’s doing right by the place, hasn’t changed a thing. I… I started working at 22West.” I laughed, imagining the slew of phrases he’d say to lovingly mock me. “I know, I know… I missed it. Well, the cooking part at least. Feeling like I was part of some top-notch kitchen and getting to watching rich people blow thousands of dollars on a chicken thigh or some wine. Everyone’s been nice, you’d like them.” After a minute of silence, I couldn’t help the soft sobs that worked their way out of my throat. “Daddy I… I… your jacket got ripped up. It was all my fault and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Dad.”

The machine beeped again, cutting off the rest of my sobs and pleas for forgiveness. I curled up on the floor and pressed the phone harder to my ear, listening to the ringing again and to his deep voice and quiet chuckle. “Hello? Just kiddin, you’ve reached Jack Harrow leave a message after the beep or whatever.”

Beep.

*

Cape fucking Cod. Jake hated the cape more than he hated anything, even Howard or Etienne. He hated the little shops and the ugly blue-chipping color that almost every building seemed to be painted. He hated how everyone would smile and wave as they recognized him and Simone making their way toward her mom's house. Why did I even fucking come back here? He asked himself scowling at everyone they passed by. Simone laughed ahead of him, catching up with someone she knew or something. 

Jake watched her for a second and sighed. Simone asked him. That’s why he came. She told him she needed him around to support her while she dealt with her mom being her mom. It wasn’t that big of a deal… and he owed her that much at least after everything she did for him back then and still did for him now. If Simone needed him Jake would be there, no matter what.

“Moms pulling out all the stops,” Simone said falling into step beside him. “Cooking our favorite meal and all that good stuff.”

“Yippie,” Jake mumbled, pulling out the last of his cigarettes from the pack and getting ready to light it before Simone ripped it from between his lips with a sigh.

“Can you go just one day without smoking like a damn chimney?”

Jake clenched his jaw and tensely smiled at her. “Sure.”

She stopped walking and dug a small piece of paper out of her bag, holding it out to him. “I’m going to go get things settled at the house. You head to the store and pick up the wine and dessert for tonight?”

“I’m on it,” he assured her, separating from her to head off toward the small store he knew was just around the corner.

“And Jake!” She called after him, causing him to turn and look at her. “Thank you… for coming with me.”

Jake smiled, “No problem.”

The second Simone was out of sight Jake returned to his displeased scowling. Everything in this town reminded him of the childhood he couldn’t wait to get away from. Every street and person that walked along it contributed to the heavyweight that settled in his chest, growing tighter and tighter the longer he stayed here and breathed the thick salty air. As he turned the corner the weight on his chest lifted for a minute at the sight of that familiar red hair. No fucking way.

Lena walked down the sidewalk toward the small store with her head down and dark sunglasses covering her eyes. She looked like shit. Tired and dressed in clothes that looked old and tattered compared to what she normally wore. What made him narrow his eyes were the bruises that she hadn’t even bothered trying to conceal on her jaw and hands. When she walked into the store Jake smirked and made his way across the street. Maybe this trip would be good for something after all.

*

I said thank you to the young clerk and walked out of the store, holding my new pack of cigarettes in one hand and my lighter in the other. "Hey, can I bum one of those?" 

"Damn it!" I hissed startled, turning to find Jake standing next to me, smirking like he’d just won the damn lottery. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

He reached over and grabbed a cigarette out of my pack and scoffed. "It's a small town, princess. You want anonymity, you're gonna have to find it somewhere else."

I chose to ignore the new nickname as my head throbbed and I growled out, "Did you follow me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, " he replied, holding his hand out to me waiting for my lighter. "Simone has family here, our trip has been planned for weeks."

"So it's a coincidence then?"

"Yep." He nodded to my lighter. “Gonna help me out or?”

I handed it to him and turned to keep walking. Jake followed, of course, happily puffing smoke along the way. “Stop following me.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “But I’ve got so many questions!”

“I’m not answering questions today Jake. So, just I don’t know go do whatever the fuck you’re here to do.”

“Just one question, since I’m such a good friend,” he offered.

“Will it get you to leave me the fuck alone?”

He laughed. “Maybe.”

“Fine.”

“What are you doing in Cape Cod?” As we walked side by side I could see his eyes looking me up and down, likely focusing on how shitty I looked.

Fuck it. “I used to live around here during the summers with my mom.”

Jake stopped, pulling me with him. “No shit, really? Simone and I lived here. Just up the hill over there.”

“Great for you,” I replied pulling my arm free of his grasp. “Now, excuse me I have things to do.”

“If you lived here how come we never ran into each other?” Jake continued to follow me with his pestering questions.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “You got your question, Jake, now fuck off.”

He didn’t listen, of course, he didn’t. “Think I woulda remembered a girl like you around here.”

A girl like me… he wouldn’t have recognized the little girl I was back then. I hardly did. “I wasn’t like this back then.”

“No?” He hummed. “Were you fat or something?”

“No.” Fucking asshole.

“What then?”

"You really don't want to come with me," I warned him, choosing to stray as far from the topic as I could. "It's not your scene."

He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. "I'm up to try anything once."

With a poorly concealed smirk, I nodded. “Alright then, come on tough guy.”

The old gym made Jake’s eyes narrow, but he didn’t stop following behind me until we reached the basement door and the burly man that stood in front of it. He nodded to Jake. “He with you?”

“Yup,” I replied looking back at him over my shoulder. “Unless he wants to leave?”

“And miss out on all this fun mystery shit, nah,” he replied with a quirked brow. A challenge.

The big man gave us both some garbled warning before moving to the side and letting us descend the dark stairs into the brightly lit basement filled with a crowd of people cheering and shouting at the two fighters in the middle of the room. It was hardly professional, but I didn’t need it to be.

Jake looked around curiously, though I could see a shred of doubt in the way his eyebrows creased. “You don’t have to stay.”

He looked down at me with narrow eyes. “You fight people in your free time?”

“Not always,” I answered. “Just when there’s a lot of shit I need to work through. Having something to punch usually helps. It’s an old habit of mine, not exactly healthy but it works.” I set my bag down on one of the shitty tables they set up off to the side of all the action. “Like I said, you don’t have to stay.”

I was expecting him to make some excuse to save face and hurry out of there while he still could, but Jake surprised me again, sitting down next to my things. “You think I’m just gonna leave you here to get the shit beat out of you?”

“I’m not gonna get the shit beat out of me,” I assured him with a smile. “I am rather good at this.”

“Yeah, those bruises you’re sporting sure instill a lot of confidence.”

“I gotta give them a few hits or no one will fight me.”

Jake chuckled, settling further into the seat. “Well, when you need help limping home I’ll be here.”

Wrapping my hands I rolled my eyes. “I should just take my frustration out on you instead.”

He opened his arms, making room in his lap. “I’m definitely down for that.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Suit yourself,” he replied. “At least my offer won’t give you any new bruises.” He paused. “Scratch that, at least my offer won’t give you any bruises you won’t enjoy getting.”

Once my hands were properly wrapped I turned. “Try not to get your ass kicked while we’re here? I know it’ll be a real challenge for you.”

*

Jake hadn’t expected, well, this. Most girls he knew would spend bad days drinking wine and watching some shitty movie or shopping to take the edge off. Lena Harrow was not like most people, he’d quickly discovered. Watching her move in the shitty ring, dodging hits and landing even more was a surreal experience. Sweat glistened on her body, making her face practically glow in this brutal way that made him question a few things about himself. The satisfaction and pride that swelled in his gut at the sight of her taking down opponent after opponent was something he wasn’t expecting either.

Lena wasn’t much to him, a friend maybe but that was still a relatively new thing, and even that was forged in his underlying desire to get her to accept the mutual attraction and act on it. Jake tried to remind himself in the moments when Lena treated him like a friend that it wasn’t real, that she was just another back waiter, cook, or whatever, that he wanted to fuck. She wasn’t Simone. She didn't know him and he didn't know her. Lena was something else, though, something that Jake was more afraid of than he’d ever let on.

As her third opponent hit the floor she turned, her tired eyes gleaming and a bright smile on her face. She was beautiful, even covered in sweat and blood and lit up by the shitty basement lights. She was beautiful and Jake fucking hated it.

*

I sucked in a sharp breath, wincing at the sting of the alcohol-soaked rag that Jake lightly pressed to my scratched-up knuckles.

"So, Hurricane Harrow? That another one of your boxing names?"

I shook my head, carefully undoing the rest of the wrap with my free hand. "It's more of a term… My dad's family comes from a long line of boxers. People would chant Hurricane Harrow when one of them got so mad in the ring that they stopped caring about rules and just went for blood." Jake was quiet, his blue eyes watching me with shockingly clear concern. "When my dad started teaching me how to fight he told me I had demons in me. He said the fire and rage they gave me was useful in a fight, but I needed to control it or it'd consume me."

"Harrows seek out fights like damn bloodhounds," my dad said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I know you're gonna keep this goin til you can't move, so the least I can do is show ya how to be good at it."

I looked at him through my one good eye. "You're serious? You're gonna let me fight?"

Dad smiled. "I'm gonna teach ya, never said I'd encourage your little alleyway brawls. There's a catch though."

"Course there is."

"You keep those demons in check for me, yeah?" He grinned, ruffling my hair. "Last thing I want is to end up lookin like you."

"You're such an asshole!" I shrieked with a laugh, shoving his hand away and sorely standing up. "You're on pops."

Jake pressed the cloth down a little harder, but even then he was being so gentle I’d almost forgotten it was him here and not someone else, like Peter or Patrick. “Everyones got demons Lena, not just you.”

"My brother doesn’t… not like me at least." I smiled a little, the bitter feeling making my chest tighten. "Peter has always been kind and good… Everything I'm not. He never fought out of anger, but out of passion. He loved the sport… And he was just so fucking nice about it. Why? Why did I have to be the one with all the anger?" It was a question I’d asked a lot, one that I already knew the answer to, but Jake answered it anyway.

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “But if it’s any consolation I kinda liked seeing that side of you.”

I looked up at him and laughed nervously. “Oh?”

Jake nodded, continuing his careful cleaning of my hands. “It was badass.”

“Thanks,” I grumbled, wincing when he rubbed a particularly sore spot.

"And hot."

"Shut up."

After a beat or two Jake said, “Your dad would be proud of you, Lena."

Clenching my jaw to keep the ugly noises trapped in my throat I nodded and wipe a tear from my eye before it could fall. “Thanks, Jake. I’m… oddly glad you decided to follow me.”

He smiled. “I’m great company, I know.”

“Your confidence is truly an inspiration,” I said, kicking his shin lightly. “Come on, I’ll buy you dinner as a thank you.”

He helped me up and fell into step beside me as we made our way out of the locker room and down the street, leaving the coppery tang of blood and the grunts of blows landing far behind us. This was something new, having someone around me while I was living it up at rock bottom. It felt both nice and unsettling. What was even worse was the fact that Jake didn’t judge me. He didn’t say anything or give me a judgmental look no matter how many cigarettes I smoked or glasses of whisky I ordered. Jake just stayed. He talked about his childhood here, or lack thereof, and spoke about how much he hated the stupid town. Jake hated Cape Cod almost as much as I did and I liked it.

We sat down outside, ordering a simple plate of cheeseburgers and french fries both of us insisting that fish was fucking disgusting. While we waited for our food Jake took another cigarette out of my bag and stole my lighter. “Are you planning on reimbursing me for my cigarettes?”

“Fuck no,” he replied inhaling the smoke.

“Oh, so you’re stealing from me then?”

Those blue eyes sparkled. “Says the girl that stole a drug dealer's motorcycle.”

“Touche.”

The food got brought out to our table and I instantly took hold of the large burger before looking up at Jake, who looked at me curiously. "I'm not gonna eat this all dainty like," I warned.

Jake shrugged with a roguish smile. "By all means, chow down, princess."

"Stop calling me that,” I grumbled.

"Nah," he said, blowing smoke across the table before dropping the rest of his cigarette to the ground and snuffing it out with his boot. "I like the way it sounds. And you clearly enjoy it."

"Ass."

I took a big bite of my burger, maintaining eye contact with the smirking Jake as he did the same. The two of us tried hard not to laugh and spit our food out. Jake managed to chew his faster, wiping the condiments from the corner of his mouth as he chuckled. “That was impressive.”

With a little bow, I swallowed my food and laughed. “Never seen a girl almost choke on a cheeseburger before?”

“No, that was definitely a first.”

“I aim to please,” I replied digging back into my food.

Jake finished his food first and had quietly taken up smoking as the wind began to grow colder the more the sun started to set. “So, seriously, how come I never saw you around here when we were younger?”

Part of me didn’t want to answer, but the other part looked at his totally idiotically handsome face and the sincerity that had taken to his features. I shrugged. “I don’t know. My mom and I never really stayed long and we mostly kept to ourselves. I wasn’t exactly the same as I am now.”

“I mean I figured the boobs and ass weren’t as noticeable then,” he teased with a smirk. “But that hair is hard to miss.”

“Believe it or not I used to hate my hair. I’d always wear a hood or a hat just to try and blend in a bit.” I sighed. “Even dyed it one year. It was horrible and I regretted it instantly! I was a lot less cool than I am now.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Jake insisted.

“It’s true!” I laughed. “I was a geek that spent all day inside practicing the piano or cello or ballet. I didn’t really do much during the summers with my mom.”

He nodded, an odd look shining in his eyes. “Think we woulda been friends back then?”

“Depends, were you nearly as annoying then as you are now?”

Jake laughed, loud and full, and the sound made me feel something deep in my chest, something I never felt out here. “Oh, I was just as annoying.”

“Then I think we would’ve been quite the pair.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jake leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on the table. “Can I get one last question?”

I sighed, exaggerating with a smile. “I guess.”

“Why’d you run?”

The image of my dad's jacket torn apart and hanging in my hands was seared into my memory as I bit my lip and looked anywhere but Jake’s face. “That fucking leather jacket. It was my dad's. Was… the last thing he gave me. I’d been sitting with him in that fucking hospital for days when he just held it out to me and told me to look after it for him for a minute.” I chuckled a bit. “He was convinced one of the nurses was going to try and steal it. I… I put it on when I went down to the cafeteria to get us some food and when I got back…” Blinking the tears from my eyes I shook my head. “He was gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake said. “I figured it meant something to you, but I didn’t know it was like that.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “I was the one that was supposed to look after it and I didn’t.”

He shook his head and reached across the table to take hold of one of my hands. “It wasn’t your fault either. If anything let's blame the idiot that tore it up.”

Jake’s phone ringing broke the quiet moment between us as we both pulled away from each other and he reached into his pocket to answer. “Hey… No, I know… Alright chill out, I’m on my way… I said I’m on my way Simone, Jesus.”

I stood up and placed the tip on the table. “Duty calls.”

“Yeah,” he sighed following my lead. “You gonna be okay?”

“I’m a big girl Jake,” I replied with a tense smile. “I’ll be fine.”

He nodded, but I could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe me. “Well, if you end up needing anything call me.”

“I don’t have your number.”

“Yeah, you do,” he replied with a grin. “I put it in your phone back at the gym.”

Scoffing I started walking. “What an invasion of my privacy.”

He laughed and shrugged. “Try not to get too fucked up out there.”

“You too, tough guy.”

The quietness of the house usually never bothered me, but as I downed my fourth shot of tequila it suddenly grew almost unbearable. I was used to being alone… at least I had been, but now. I wanted to go home. I wanted to sleep in my own bed or even in the uncomfortable cot next to Peter. But I couldn’t go home, not when the only thing keeping me from falling apart was booze and cigarettes. I couldn’t. If I did I’d go straight to Dom and I’d fuck all my progress up. I’d fuck everything up.

Out the window, the red buoy seemed to glow in the orange light. The numbness in my hands slowly started to return as I twirled my phone in my hand and considered calling Jake. He was busy no doubt, with Simone and whatever it was they came here for. He’s busy, I told myself setting the phone down on the counter and committing to the idiotic idea that had settled into my head after the second shot. I almost slipped on the shards of glass as I made my way out the front door, and just started walking. I forced myself to breathe deeply, even though the air smelt rancid the closer I got to the ocean.

Driving a boat drunk is not something I’d recommend, but somehow I made it past the red buoy and managed to stop the damn thing in the perfect spot. Staring out across the shimmering water I could feel the panic rising in my chest, could feel it but idiotically didn’t even try to stop and think. No more thinking. I stepped off the edge and plunged into the cold water. No more thinking.

*

Jake couldn’t get out of that house fast enough. He’d forgotten to get the wine and dessert, which made Simone almost unbearable through dinner. Her mom was sweet like she always was, but it made Jake feel uncomfortable, reminding him too much of what little he remembered of his mom. He excused himself, holding his camera up and telling them he was going to get some shots of the beach before the sunset.

So there he was, walking along the beach next to the docks, taking pictures of the ocean and the sand. He aimed the lens out onto the water, focusing on an empty boat and snapping the picture before his brain registered the name neatly painted on the side. Harrow. A pit settled in his stomach as he pulled his camera away from his eyes for a moment before looking again.

He looked around the boat for a moment before he zoomed out a way. The camera lens focused on the floating red buoy and Jake felt his chest tighten at the sight of Lena, swimming sluggishly behind it. “Lena?”

She disappeared under the water for a minute too long and Jake could hardly breathe as his feet moved quickly toward the boat at the dock, the one he’d used to dare kids to take for joyrides because the idiot owners always left the keys in it. He hopped in and looked back out at the water as Lena’s red hair resurfaced and her pale hands gripped onto the buoy for dear life as the waves crashed over her. “LENA!”

God fucking damn it! He cursed, turning the engine on and hauling ass out onto the water toward her. The boat cutting through the water echoed distantly in his ears as that hideous fucking fear consumed him just like it did when he was a kid. He could hear the police quietly whispering about his mom as he sat on the stairs of his old home and waited. He could recall the sad smile on Simone’s face as she tucked him into his new bed for the first time and curled up beside him stroking his hair while he cried. At that moment he remembered what it felt like when he’d first tried to drown himself. The breathlessness. The pressure.

His mom walked into the ocean and didn’t come back. He’d be fucking damned if Lena was going to do the same.

*

Every inch of my body shook as I clung to that damn buoy. What the fuck was I thinking? Who the hell just jumps into the fucking ocean to try and prove some stupid point to a mother that’s not even here?! I could hear the water around me, the engine of some boat or another driving past, but everything was muffled as the panic began to overtake everything else. “Sink or swim.” I’d sunk. Sunk and fully settled into everything she said I would be. “You’re going to regret this, little one. Not now, maybe not even in a few years, but one day, when you’ve accomplished nothing in your life you’ll regret this moment.”

“LENA!” Jake’s muffled voice echoed in my ears as my head was pushed below the water again. “Lena give me your fucking hand!”

Jake? I turned my head the second I came back up to find him leaning over the edge of some boat, reaching out for me. His blue eyes were wide and full of fear. “J-J-Ja-ake?”

“If you don’t give me your hand right now I swear to fucking god I’m going to drag you by the hair into this boat Lena!” He reached out to me more as his voice turned desperate, pleading, “Just give me your hand.”

Shaking I reached out to him and numbly latched onto his arm as he pulled me up into the boat. Jake shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around my front before pulling me into his arms and rubbing my cold skin. As my breaths quickened and the memories of all the other times I’d failed replayed over and over again in my head as I mumbled.

He didn’t know what I was talking about and honestly, he probably didn’t care. Jake just held onto me tight, whispering to me, “I’ve got you. It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe. Please just breathe.”

By the time my panic attack had settled the sun was gone and the stars filled the sky. Jake and I sat in the boat, looking up at the sky, neither of us sure where to start. “My mom died out here. In this water.”

I turned my head and looked at him. Though his face remained stoic I could see the pain in his eyes as he looked up at the sky. “I’m… I’m sorry… I didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine, most people don’t.”

His mom died… drown and yet he’d come to get me. He must’ve been so angry, so scared… I shook my head. “It’s not fine. You had to come out here and drag me out of the water your mom died in. I can’t even imagine how terrifying that must have been.” Jake’s face only twitched into a moment of fearful sorrow. I leaned further into him. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Why were you out here?” He asked, voice cracking slightly. “Why the fuck were you out in the middle of the fucking ocean?”

I could have given him whatever answer I wanted. Jake didn’t know the truth and he didn’t have to. No one did. The longer I sat there, covered in his leather jacket and being warmed by his body heat the more difficult it was to keep the truth inside. Eventually, I sighed and the words began to slip out, “I was never good at the piano or the cello or ballet. No matter how many hours I spent practicing… no matter how badly my fingers bled or my feet ached from the effort I put into the stupid things it was never enough.” I tapped on my leg for a minute, working up the courage to continue through the lump in my throat. “My mom insisted I wasn’t trying hard enough. Glovers are hard workers with talent and determination and in her head, I lacked both. To her, I was just lazy. So… when I’d keep getting the notes wrong or messing up the routine she’d plop me in a boat, drive out past the buoy and tell me to get in the water.” Jake was watching me closely now, I could feel the heat of his eyes, but I didn’t have the heart to look at him. “I’d swim for hours before she’d start the boat and tell me to sink or swim. She’d leave me there to swim back to shore myself. I never could… I’d always end up hanging off that stupid buoy until one of the neighbors came and got me. She wouldn’t even let me back in the house when I got back so I’d have to stay with the old couple across the street for the night.”

“That's… That’s fucked up.” He mumbled.

“Yeah,” I wiped the tears from my eyes and glanced back at him. “After a while, I went to live with my dad and brother. She signed over custody without a fight and told him good luck.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake said, his tone low and unsure. He clearly wasn’t expecting all this and sure as hell didn’t know how to respond to any of it. “What is it about this fucking place that makes everything just shit?”

I laughed softly and shook my head. “I don’t know. But, hey, at least we turned out only marginally fucked up.”

Jake laughed at that. “I fucking hate it here.”

“Me too,” I replied. “It’s probably the worst place in the world.”

“And yet neither of us seems to be able to stay away.” He sighed. “Maybe we’re more fucked up than we think.”

"Let's make each other a promise then," I said, holding my pinky out to him. He visibly bit back a snarky remark about the "childish" action. "To never come back here again."

The blue of his eyes sparkled as he thought about the offer for a minute before he nodded, reaching out to link his pinky with mine. "Yeah, okay."

"Fuck the cape," I said, my pinky squeezing his.

Jake smiled. "Fuck the cape."

*

I stood in the aisle of the store, looking at the condiments blankly while I tried to kill time. Mom was in another meeting, like always, and I'd been practicing for hours before I decided it was time for a break. So there I was, standing in the shitty store staring at condiments.

"Hey, pass me a thing of mustard?" A voice asked from beside me.

"Sure," I replied, bored.

The boy smiled crookedly as I handed the mustard to him. His ocean-blue eyes sparkled in the fluorescent lights and his dark hair was sticking up in several places. "Thanks."

"No problem."

He tilted his head. "You new around here? I don't think I've seen you before."

"Not new," I said. "But no, you probably haven't seen me."

He was about to ask another question when a blonde girl rounded the corner and gave him a scolding face. "There you are! You can't just wander off!"

"I didn't wander off." He rolled his eyes. "I was getting the mustard."

I silently excused myself from their argument, tucking my red hair deeper under my hood and making my way past them toward the front door. I needed to practice some more anyway, not stand around some store with arguing strangers.

#nightshade #jake and lena #lena harrow #jake x lena #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #jake smut #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter #tom sturridge jake #tom sturridge #tom sturridge fanfiction #sweetbitter simone #sweet bitter #sweetbitter tess #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter dom #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter quinn #sweetbitter prue #sweetbitter patrick #sweetbitter ozzy #sweetbitter fanfic #sweetbitter scott #sweetbitter peter

[autopotion]

It seems like a lot of folks are mixed on BitD's position & effect rules because it can lead to GMs and PCs haggling over dice rolls and it's "metagaming." Now I haven't actually played it, so I might feel differently once it's actually in practice, but IMO that kind of haggling already happens in other tabletop games, just less transparently and more passive aggressively. It's the "are you sure you want to do that?" question. If you're asking your players that, it means the PCs haven't understood the stakes, and you can't more concretely dissuade them from doing so because of the (ostensibly) secretive nature of being a GM. By contrast, in BitD, if a player wanted to do something really absurd and dangerous, I can just tell them "that's a desperate roll with limited/zero effect." The stakes & consequences are immediately clear, codified by the rules so everyone can understand. If the player didn't get it before, they do now, and if they really want to pursue that action anyway they pretty much know what to expect.

That kind of table clarity I find really interesting. Except for some fortune rolls and a few behind-the-scenes progress clocks, GMs share pretty much everything with the table, including mid-score progress clocks (such as "how long until the guards find you").

In other systems, that blatant exposure of the system's internal circuitry would either be frowned upon or outright against the rules. DND for example has a long-established culture of DM secrecy, mostly accidental because of how poorly the system handles communication between the DM and the PCs. It doesn't really teach DMs when they should part the curtain, so most err on the side of mystery (& also to feel an authoritative high; DND also does not have any mechanics that can dissuade draconian DMs from punishing their players for just, like, existing). You don't (or aren't supposed to) tell people the DCs you set for rolls, so they don't understand how steep some checks are unless they get a 21 and still fail. You also don't tell folks the AC of an enemy, so every turn we have to have the exchange "does that hit?" (Justin Alexander has actually recommended revealing AC after a few rounds of a fight so everyone's on the same page and combat progresses quickly, but your average DM definitely does not do this.) Some DMs (me.) even roll privately, because that gives them the option to fudge, and whether they consistently fudge against you or in your favor depends on how antagonistic they are. I like to give myself the option to fudge if my players are getting stressed and frustrated about the progression of a fight (since Rule of Fun supersedes DM Fiat), but I'm not about to pretend that's the best possible practice & that it doesn't lead to minor inconsistencies during fights.

Anyway. BitD streamlines communication and makes the stakes very clear. The GM has very few secrets going in & doesn't make a lot of rolls on their own (exceptions being a score complication, off screen faction characters/motivations, and bigger picture fortune rolls), but everything else is out in the open, so the players have a concrete sense of what they're up against at any given point. I don't think haggling doesn't happen ("what do you mean this would have zero effect, I can do xyz thing!") but in general I think haggling is, uh... system agnostic. Some PCs are always going to try to push back against anything they think is unfair, and some GMs are always going to play with a "GM vs. PCs" mindset.

But in addition to the stakes being clear, PCs can do so many things to circumvent bad rolls (or outcomes of rolls that are predicted to be bad).

They can try a different approach to see if they can get a better position & effect.

They can literally resist the roll. They can take stress instead and lower the bad effect of the roll by one tier.

I think that is such a cool mechanic. Harm in BitD is really bad. You don't have a harm meter like in some PbtA games (i.e. MotW), you just have tiers of damage (1-3, with 4 being lethal), and only a handful of injuries can exist on one tier at any given time. If you screw up so badly that you get hurt, you can get in serious trouble. Allowing players to lessen the blow of a bad roll by taking stress (which can lead to increasingly bad results over the long term if not properly managed) is ingenious. The "resist" mechanic gives players so much agency in a world filled with GMs who GM for the power trip.

So if you have a player who haggles in spite of all the pro-player rules embedded into the system, you have a player problem, not a system problem.

Really it seems like the issues with BitD arise only if your players aren't willing to buy into the fiction. The other biggest complaint I've seen about BitD is that PCs rarely ever truly "fail," and end up coming off as extreme badasses no matter how the GM tries to mitigate the power creep. I can definitely see that being the case. However:

Some players just want to be extreme badasses who do cool stuff.

Some players want to be extreme badasses who do cool stuff, but they want to accomplish this by facing intense stakes, and want the GM to set up all the stakes for them. (This is the standard player/GM relationship prevalent in stuff like DND.)

If you're #2, the BitD formula straight up does not work. It's not that kind of game. It's focused on player agency, which is two-pronged. It means that players have a lot of say in when things go right, but it also means players have to proactively seek out opportunities for things to go bad. The game rewards these behaviors, in fact! If you roll those desperate rolls, you mark xp. If your actions lean into your PC's vices, you mark xp. If you min-max, if you focus only on the best possible outcomes and don't try to roleplay, you will pretty much always win and therefore come away unsatisfied.

IMO the "haggling player" and the "player who is only focused on winning" are the same player. Removing the position & effect rules from BitD won't help that player's gripes because the rest of the system is not built for players who only want to win. You have to actively want to fail, because unlike DND, BitD won't impose unwanted failures on you. You have to want to tell a story where the stakes are high instead of having that story be told to you. It's collaborative storytelling; BitD opens with calling itself a fiction-first game.

I do think it is a bit crunchy compared to other fiction-first games, and it's not without its rough spots and inconsistencies, but when I see people on reddit complaining that BitD doesn't work because "I always win and it's boring..." Bro. You have the power to change that. BitD puts a lot of power directly into the players' hands. You have to dictate what kind of experience you want. I think the number of rules can make it seem like it's hard to roleplay, but most of the decision-making processes to get to those rolls should be roleplay-focused, or the whole thing falls apart.

Anyway I like position & effect rules (so far) because they make it much easier for me to imagine how difficult a "check" is (as opposed to DCs in DND, which don't have concrete built-in consistency). I might actually hate it once I get to playing it, who knows? But I feel like I already have a decent grasp of what intended play looks like, which is a good sign in my book.

(Not that there aren't weak points in BitD. I hate the setting of Dunwall--sorry, Duskwall ( /Doskvol/the Dusk). I will be Matsuno-ifying it.)

#i don't have a ttrpg tag boooo #ttrpg blogging #(ig)

[hereliesjon]

❝ the  world  hasn’t  killed  me  yet  but  it’s  just  a  matter  of  days . ❞ ⧽ @goldengirlchrissy ➸ chrissy cunningham.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ೃ༄

ㅤㅤㅤ╰        ⸻      ✟ desperation and depression bleed into one meaning when sitting on the shoulders of the right people . chrissy cunningham was the right person . a desperate need for some sort of release from the cage of her own makeshift life and the depressive idea that her home wasn’t truly a home . and while most wouldn’t even begin to consider that someone like the cheerleader , the queen of hawkins high , could even possibly begin to understand what it was like to feel out of place . . jonathan knew by now that the outside is not the same as the inside . he had once believed the same thing with nancy wheeler , and look how often he had been surprised with her behavior . admirable and impressive , but surprising to him nonetheless . and now ? he had a better idea of how to navigate social standards . the key was to ignore them in general .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ❝ . . strength isn’t always visible to the beholder , you know ? . . i read that somewhere a few years ago , but it feels . . right . ❞ cunningham must have held some ounce of strength behind those crystalline , clear blue-green eyes of hers . had she not , she wouldn’t be here today . sure , school and home life must have been pushing her further and further to the edge . that much was clear based off of her original statement . but she was still standing here , wasn’t she ? ❝ you’re strong , chrissy . shit sucks , it really does . but you’ll make it out of this town one day and buy a low-down , shitty apartment and live on your own and things will be . . okay . i say fight for that escape . ❞

#˚ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘳𝘴 . . ⊹ answered . #goldengirlchrissy #jonathan not everyone wants to leave town in the middle of the night without a trace oh my gosh

[yesimwriting]

To Be Alone

VAGUE SPOILER WARNING FOR SHADOW AND BONE BOOK SERIES-- I try hard not to mention why the Darkling/General Kirigan is the bad guy so that I don’t spoil anything,, but the reader finds out that he lies about his identity and that he’s super sketchy/not a good guy (again,, I avoided as many specifics as possible to keep it from being spoiler-y)

Warnings: lowkey manipulation, kissing/makeout, slight fingering

A/n y’all drove me to this lol,, pls be nice!! This is the closest to full on smut I’ve ever written!! Ahh I’m lowkey scared to post

Summary: the reader finds out something about the Darkling/General Kirigan, he finds a way to convince her to stay 

--

No amount of evidence will ever be enough to convince me fully. A part of me will always hold onto unjustifiable doubt because a part of me hopes that if I hold onto the lies tight enough they’ll turn into the truth. But that’s not how the world works. 

General Kirigan. Ravka put its faith in him. I put my faith in him. I did more than that. I pushed aside my reservations and doubt in order to try and comfort him when he spoke of loneliness. Was all that a lie as well? 

No. I can’t afford to think of the emotional side of it all, because if I do I may find myself incapable of moving from this spot. I don’t have time to reflect on it all, to try and unravel hopeful lies and manipulative truths. That can be done when I’m not here. If I stay here, he’ll know I know and he’ll stop me from...what? What am I supposed to do next? I could find someone with some level of power to warn. 

“There you are.” Kirigan. I’m turned towards the window, not facing him, but there is no weariness or malice in his voice. He has no reason to suspect my suspicion. “Are you unwell?” 

Calm. I need to pass as calm. Not turning, I force myself to ignore the endearing hint of concern in his voice. “No.” I can hear his measured footsteps. “Why would you think that?” 

“I haven’t seen you all day,” he’s directly behind me now. If I turn, I’ll practically be against his chest. “And you didn’t come see me last night.” 

Oh. I knew it was a mistake to begin to pull on such a small thread so close to when he expected to see me, but it kept gnawing on me. That doubt. That tiny thing I couldn’t ever let go off. “I fell asleep.” No--I cringe at my impulsive response. He knows how difficult it is for me to fall asleep. “Yesterday was just really...draining.” 

In an easy movement, he places his hand on my shoulder. It’s a silent request for me to turn. Exhaling, I obey. Why? I could lie to myself and say that I’m listening to him in order to kill his suspicions, but the effect he has on me is undeniable. Even before touching each other became a casual thing on his part, my body wanted to react to him. 

He’s quick to cup my face, tilting my chin up slightly so that I can’t avoid his gaze. “What troubles you, little dove?” A nickname for when he’s feeling particularly gentle. Thoughts of the evil he has to be twist my stomach as my face flushes. Kirigan’s thumb brushes over the corner of my bottom lip, stalling as I fight the urge to melt into the contact. I meet his tense gaze cautiously. “You said nothing could make you look at me differently.” No. There’s no way he figured out my change with one look alone. I’ll deny it. I’ll do what I need to do to be convincing, and then I’ll manage to escape. His grip on my shoulder tightens. “Don’t you dare lie to me again.” 

The urge to snap and point out the sick irony of him telling me not to lie at him almost forces me to break. His gaze starts to shift away from me--towards the half packed escape bag I’d been in the middle of constructing. I stretch my arms forward, desperate to keep his gaze on me and away from what I can’t explain. 

Kirigan’s free hand moves to pull my hand off of his cheek, but he pauses, eyes shutting in peaceful contentment. “What do you know?” 

I expected his words to be angry, to border on violent...but he just sounds tired. Please, Saints, let me be wrong. “Is there anything to know?” The only reaction I get is the slightest stall of his breathing. “You said you didn’t want to be alone anymo--” 

“I don’t.” The harshness of his words almost coax a small flinch from me. 

Swallowing back the knot in my stomach, I exhale slowly. “A part of not being alone is being honest.” 

His eyes finally open. I don’t dare move as he moves my hand off of his cheek so that he can brush his lips against my knuckles. I suppress an embarrassing shudder. “You wouldn’t have stayed--if you knew you wouldn’t ha--” 

No denial. I can’t--I can’t do this. “You know what the worst part is?” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I can’t believe it’s true. “I might have.” Those words break something in me as I force myself away from him. The lack of contact leaves me more frozen than ever. “I might have! I might have been able to bear all the monstrous things you’ve done if you had just--” 

“What?!” He meets my outburst with one of equal power. “You might have stayed regardless?” The way he scoffs leaves me feeling like a wandering child. “You might have still looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky instead of like I’m the darkness they fight against?” I stay silent as he steps forward, quick to hold my chin in place with his long fingers. “I couldn’t risk you on possibility.” Kirigan’s gaze is so intense, a part of me is surprised that shadows don’t come at me--drowning me in darkness and him. “And don’t think me foolish enough to believe that someone like you would understand that I have to do what I’m doing--” 

“Have to?” No--how did I almost let him lure me back in so easily. I pull myself away, approaching my open wardrobe. “That’s not past tense.” He’s still--he’s still actively hurting people. Why had I been so stupidly naive to think that maybe this was all history? “I--I can’t do this.” 

Each step towards the exit of the room chips away at a piece of my soul. “You’re not walking away from me,” his strong grip is on my arm in a sharp instinct, “I won’t--I can’t be alone again.” 

I swallow back the lump of emotion in my throat. “You already are.” 

His eyes are pleading, pools of frightened adoration. “No--no,” he steps towards me, not releasing his grip on my arm, “You’re hurt that I lied, but now I’ll never have to lie to you again.” I push against his grip. Kirigan doesn’t release me. “Y/n,” my name is a lament from his lips, “Please.” 

My eyes round out as my heart leaps into my chest. “I used to think that you were only touched by the darkness, but now I’m not sure you can tell where the darkness ends and you begin.” His grip just barely falters. Maybe it’s acceptance. 

I shift weakly, a softer attempt to escape. His grip tightens even more than before as he tugs me forward. The reminder of his physical strength leaves me frozen in shock. I can’t read his expression, but something about him has darkened. When I don’t pull away again, his thumb brushes up and down my forearm. The silkiness of his touch is warm temptation. I inhale slowly as he moves his other arm in order to touch my shoulder. The contact is almost shy. 

“Kirigan,” my voice betrays me, breaking as his fingers trace down my collar, “What--what are you doing?” 

He tilts his head, taking in the way his touch rids my body of fight. “Nothing, really.” His voice is low, supple in its assuredness. “You’re the only person who has ever seen me--and for you to leave me after that.” 

“No,” I try to step back, but my body freezes as he toys with the collar of my dress, “What I saw--what I found out--that wasn’t you.” 

“It’s who I have to make myself be,” he whispers, “I’m doing what needs to be done.” 

“That logic can earn you a lot,” my words are careful, “But it cannot earn you me.” 

His hand brushes past my neck, finding the root of my hair. Kirigan pulls on it slightly, forcing me to expose my lower jaw and neck. I’m still as he leans forward, warm breath fanning across my skin. I fight against a shiver in vain as his lips brush down my skin, only stopping as he nips the base of my neck. I can’t help the small sound of surprise that escapes me. 

“Are you sure about that?” Blood rushes to my face, motivated by both embarrassment and something else. “Little dove, don’t ruin us.” His touch is warm, but his words leave me with an uncomfortable chill. In an attempt to escape the coldness, I half-press myself into the trail of soft and desperate kisses he’s leaving down my neck.

Kirigan pauses, exhaling slowly, and I feel some mental strength return to me. “There can’t be an us--not like this.” 

“Y/n.” He never uses my name. “You are the only light I know.” His words steal something from me as he pulls away enough to look me in the eyes. “I can’t handle the weight of solitude anymore--it’s worse than the dark.”

 I am unflinching, watching him with a markman’s care. Kirigan takes my silence as a positive. I don’t move as his gaze drops to my lips before he presses his own together. I don’t move as he destroys the distance between us like it’s some type of unbearable weight. His lips meet mine with enough force to bruise my face. The surprise of it gives him the chance to coax my lips into parting as his hands move to either side of my face. My body reacts without my permission, letting him deepen the kiss. Every time I find some kind of free will, Kirigan pushes it away with some kind of tactful lull of his tongue. Keeping his control, Kirigan ends the kiss by grazing sharp teeth against my bottom lip. 

I’m left panting. “You’re--you lied, Kirigan--I--” 

“You told me once you could never see me as a monster.”

“I said that to a version of you that technically doesn’t exist.” 

The grief in my chest and desire in my stomach twist in a nauseating way. Kirigan’s eyes watch me patiently, a pain similar to my own reflected in them. “Who I am when I’m with you is less fictitious than any identity I’ve ever given myself.”

The vulnerability in his voice is as alluring and distracting as the kiss. I find myself thinking of the warmth of his mouth against my skin. He had kissed me like the cure for ancient solitude could come from me. I think he had a point, because now that he’s not touching me in that way I feel the familiar tugs of cold emptiness. 

“I don’t understa--” My words are cut off by his lips brushing against mine. 

His touch is soft, but it’s far from shy as he draws out the kiss. It’s an attempt to keep me on edge, to keep me wanting him enough to push past my doubts. “Y/n,” there’s a reverent quality to his voice, “I--” Kirigan grabs the collar of my dress, pulling me to him sharply. His kiss conveys things that neither of us truly understand. “Don’t go.” 

I don’t want to. The realization is a cruel wave crashing against my chest. “You lie to everyone, you lie to me--you--you hurt and destroy and I--” One of his hands brushes against the hem of my dress. “What are you,” the words are supposed to be sharp, but my resolve melts as his hand presses firmly against my thigh, “Doing?” 

“You know me,” he draws out each word as his fingers graze towards the inside of my thighs. The cool metal of his rings are practically ice against my flushed skin. “Little dove, trust me.” 

My nails dig into my palms as I try to ignore what he’s doing. “I did and you betrayed me.” 

“I couldn’t lose you,” he whispers, thumb inching up my inner thigh.

I press my lips together, fighting against a natural reaction. “You did lose me.” 

Kirigan’s eyes darken as his grip on my thigh tightens. “We’ll move past this.” He’s both pleading and assured. “I think I know how to make it up to you.” He trails his hand up my thigh swiftly, stopping with his hand on my lower hip. Shamelessly, he toys with the hem of my underwear. “The only thing that’s really changed is that now I’m touching you like this.” 

The only thing I can do is gape at him. He’s a villain, his hands are coated in unnecessarily spilled blood, and I am helpless against his slightest touch. I should try pushing him away or at the very least resist his blatant advantages. His fingers brush down my underwear, stopping at a growing wet spot. The knowing look he gives me burns my core. I try to keep my expression hard in a final form of protest, but when he presses his pointer finger against me all the resolve in me is shattered. 

My eyebrows draw together as a small sound escapes me, “Kirigan.” I can’t tell if it’s praise or a warning. 

He pauses, hand retracting slightly at my whining. “Y/n,” his other hand cups my cheek. I lean into the contact without permission from my body. “There is only one name that I have not given myself and only one name I want to hear you breathe like that.” His thumb traces my lips softly. I don’t move as he leans forward, turning his lips towards my ear. 

“Aleksander.” His name is nothing more than a breath, a stolen heartbeat on his lips. 

He presses his fingers against where I’m the weakest again. My hips grind forward instinctually, desperate for more contact as he kisses the top of my jaw. 

“Aleksander.” The name escapes me in the form of a broken moan. Speaking it feels more intimate than the way he’s touching me. 

There’s the slightest pause in his consuming actions. “Again,” he breathes, “Say my name again.” His request is so soft it feels like he’s more at my mercy than I am at his. 

My eyes shut as his teeth graze my neck. “Aleksander.” At the sound of his name, his teeth brush against my skin harder than ever. 

When he starts to pull away, I reach out desperately, grabbing his kefta. “I thought you wanted to leave, little dove.” 

No. No. He is not going to get me to agree to stay by giving me something as intimate as his original name and by denying me his touch. “Please.” 

He reaches for my hand, pulling it off of him cruelly. “Do you want to stay with me?” 

I know which answer will get me what I really want, but I’m not sure which answer is true. Do I want to stay with him? Even after knowing what he’s done? “I don’t want to leave you.” The vulnerability of the statement cracks at my heart. He turns away from me in order to face the wall. I take a tentative step towards. “But I’m not sure what I want matters.” 

In one quick motion, he’s yanking more forward and pressing me into the wall. “Of course desire matters,” his body is pressed against mine almost entirely, “It means something.” He brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “It means you could choose me.” 

What could I say to that? I part my lips to speak but he silences me by pressing his lips against my jaw. I offer no protest as he starts touching me the way he did earlier. I’m more desperate now, more needy and okay with that. His fingers slip past my underwear testingly, hesitating before finally entering me slowly. 

“Aleksander,” my voice is so needy I’m not sure it’s my own. 

“I want you to say my name like that again,” he whispers, kissing down my collarbone as he begins to press his fingers in and out of me faster, “And I want you to say my name casually,” his pace doesn’t slow, even when I begin to let out indistinguishable whines, “And I want you to say my name while you’re falling asleep,” his touch becomes more aggressive as his words become more sincere, “And I want you to say my name every other way there is to say it.” 

The bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach grows until there’s nothing else for me to hold onto. I finish with a sharp gasp. The feeling of euphoria is only intensified as Aleksander begins to kiss up my jaw before finally pressing our lips together. 

I break the kiss first, desperate to breathe. Have my legs been so shaky this entire time? Aleksander lets me recover, resting his head against my forehead. “I’m tired of being alone.” 

I imagine all the foul acts he’s committed and all the bad he wants to bring. I picture all the innocent blood he’s spilled. I see all of it--every horror and dark deed he’s ever committed. But I cannot see me leaving him. Maybe that makes me a monster, maybe that makes me an idiot...but I can’t do it. 

Slowly, I move to drape my arms over his back in a loose hug. “You’re not alone, Aleksander.” I’m not sure what that signifies, but I know it’s true. There has to be good in him. No one capable of such warmth can be pure evil. “I choose you.” 

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #sab #sab imagine #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #ben barnes #darkling x reader #darkling imagine #the darkling x reader smut #general kirigan x reader smut #my works #x reader

[musings-of-a-rose]

Light Me Up - Chapter 7

Pairing: Benjamin “Benny” Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 6100+

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!

Warnings: Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. However, if you’d like trigger warnings, click here to view them for this chapter.

Notes: THANK YOU for waiting for this fic while I finished up Meet the Millers!! I may be moving this fic to an every other week type format. We’ll see what happens because I have a hard time staying away from Benny.

**Reader is ethnicity inclusive despite stock photo bias

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

<<Chapter 6

Light Me Up Masterlist

General Masterlist

Benny leaves the next day for his out of town fights. He gave you the finalized list of where they were and he wasn’t kidding - these areas aren’t great on a good day, but add in booze and fighting? It’s no wonder he didn’t want you there. Still, you could’ve at least gone with Will, who ended up meeting Benny a week later. But Benny was firmly against you going, specifically with Will it seemed. You’re going to have to revisit that conversation soon.

Benny texts, calls, and video chats you every spare second he gets. You can see how much he hates not having you there and you miss him terribly. You had seriously considered surprising him and just showing up, but you knew he’d be furious so you respected his wishes. You trusted him.

2 weeks later, you’re standing in your kitchen and you hear a knock on your door. Wiping your hands on your apron, you take it off and head to the door, pausing to look out the keyhole. Benny stands there, shifting his weight from side to side and you rip open the door, flinging yourself at him and nearly knocking him over. He rallies quickly, pulling you up onto him as you wrap your legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and your lips find his. His hands grip you tightly as he walks you inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He kisses you back, deeply, before pulling back and setting you down, turning to lock the door.

“You could’ve used your key, ya know.”

Benny blushes. “I know. I guess I just wanted to make sure it was ok?”

You look up into his bright blue eyes. “If I didn’t want you to use it, I wouldn't have given it to you. Use it next time, ok?”

Benny flashes that beautiful smile. “You got it, sweetheart.”

Stepping forward, you grip his shirt and pull him to you, slotting your lips against his and running your tongue along his teeth. You pull him forward, not realizing he was kicking off his boots and he stumbles, knocking you to the ground and just catching himself before he lands on top of you.

“ ‘M sor-”

You cut him off by pulling him to you again, spreading your legs wide as he settles between them, slowly grinding his hips into yours. Your hands scramble down Benny, frantically feeling for his pants as he holds himself up, kissing and nipping at your neck. Getting his button open and zipper down, he helps you shift his pants down enough for him to spring free, already hard and leaking.

Thankful you were wearing a dress, Benny hikes it up and slides your underwear over, moaning at the wet spot you left behind. He meets your eyes and you nod frantically, a small “please” escaping your lips that turns into a high pitched whine as he pushes into you. He sets a frantic pace, both of you desperate for each other in your thrusts, breathing open mouthed into each other as you pant out. Gripping his ass, you try to pull him deeper. Benny gets the message and adds a deeper snap of his hips, lighting up that spot at the back of you, watching as you toss your head back, exposing the length of your neck. He leans over and latches onto a pulse point, sucking at your skin as he listens to your whines, letting go with a pop, watching as the hickey rises to the surface. You’re holding onto him, desperately trying not to slide too much across the floor, your muscles tensing with your impending orgasm.

Suddenly, his hand slides in the top of your underwear, rubbing and squeezing at your bundle of nerves and it pushes you over, his name erupting from your lips as you cum, your body tense as pleasure waves rush over your body. Benny snaps his hips erratically, one, two, three more times before he’s moaning your name, burying his face in your neck as he comes. Taking a moment to catch your breath, Benny chuckles.

“What’s funny?” you ask.

“We still have our clothes on.”

You start laughing and Benny grunts out “Stop laughing! Ngh…stop!”

You manage to hold your breath and he pulls out of you with a nervous laugh, his head hitting your chest as he starts to laugh again.

“Every laugh gripped my cock like a sexy vice.”

Tears streaming down your face, you kiss the top of his head. “Sorry!”

He lifts his head to look at you, his own laughter etched in his features. His laughs die off and he brushes hair from your face, his eyes roaming over your features.

“I really missed you, Sparks.”

“I missed you too.” You cup his face and he leans into it, his eyes closing momentarily as he nearly purrs.

“You hungry? I made dinner.”

“A fuck and food? You’re too good to me.”

You smirk. “Don’t I know it!”

—----

The weekend arrives and you all find yourselves at the Morales house, Frankie behind the grill and everyone having a great time. True to your word, you had brought along your niece Rosalie, who full out ran to Paili when you walked outside. Benny drapes his arm around your shoulders and you put your arm around his waist, holding him to you as you walk up to join the group.

“Santi…alone for once?” you ask, a smirk on your lips.

His eyes shine and he winks at you. “Jealous, querida?”

“Oh yeah, totally.” you say, lacing your tone with sarcastic humor.

He laughs and gestures towards the house. “She’ll be right back.”

“Just make sure this one doesn’t slash your tires.”

Santi’s head tilts back as he laughs, his whole body shaking as he and Benny recount that evening’s events.

A few minutes goes by before you feel Benny’s pant leg being pulled. He looks down to see Paili.

“Hey P! What’s up?”

She bats her big brown eyes at him and you can see him melting already. “Can you play with me, Uncle Benny?”

He lets go of you to lean down to her level. “Don’t you have a friend to play with?”

She nods her head. “Yeah but I want to play with you too!”

He smiles at her. “I gotta spend some time with Sparks, P.”

She sticks her lip out. “That’s not fair, Uncle Benny! She always gets you!” her little foot stomps at the end and Frankie turns around from the grill.

“Mija…” he says, in a warning tone.

“What? He does though.” She crosses her arms and looks away from him.

Benny looks up at you, hitting you with the puppy dog eyes. You cup his face for a moment, rubbing your thumb across his cheek as you nod. He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, giving you a wink before he turns back to Paili.

“Alright, P. But just a few minutes, ok?”

Her head snaps around and she launches herself at him, Benny exaggeratingly falling backwards as Paili squeals with laughter. She rolls off of him and tries to haul him up, grabbing his hand and pulling him to a corner of the yard where her playground and outside toys were.

“You won’t see him the rest of the night,” Monica comes over, setting another plate of meat next to Frankie. He gives her a quick kiss and she pinches his butt, chuckling as he yelps.

You offer to help Monica but she fixes you with a look and points to a chair. Throwing your hands up in defeat, you sit down next to Will, scooting your chair a little closer to him so as to be further away from Santi and his girl of the moment, who was feeding him grapes.

“Gross,” Will whispers near your ear and you both chuckle.

You join in the conversation between everyone, but your eyes flit to the corner with the playground. At first it was to watch Benny - you never passed up the chance to see him play with kids. He gets down on their level, full of excitement, trying to squeeze his 6’3 body into tiny playground equipment. One time, you found him and Paili crammed into a play tent, Benny’s feet sticking out from under it.

But as you watched, you noticed Rosalie start to back off, Paili almost preventing her from playing with Benny (whom Rosalie loved as well). Benny seemed to notice but had been unsuccessful in trying to find a game all 3 of them could play.

You move to stand up, going over to play with them so it will be an even number for a game or something, when you feel a warm hand grab your wrist. You look down and see Will grabbing you, his eyes moving from the playground to you.

“I got it.” He gives you a wink before he stands, walking over to Rosalie and leaning down to her level. Whatever he says to her must work because she gives him a shy grin, a nod, and then she’s taking his hand, pulling him towards Benny and Paili.

You swear you see a slight scowl on Benny’s face, quickly replaced by an over the top smile at Rosalie, her little face lighting up at finally being able to properly join in. The 4 of them play until it’s time to eat, Frankie having to nearly pull Paili from Benny.

“I’m not hungry, dad!”

“That’s fine, mija, but Uncle Benny is. And so is Uncle Will. Let them eat.”

You make Benny a plate and set it down at the table, beckoning him over and gesturing towards the chair.

“Sparks…”

“Just sit. I want to spend time with you and didn’t want to waste it watching you get food. I’m fairly certain you’ll have tiny hands pulling you away again shortly.”

Benny laughs. “Yeah you’re probably right.”

Rosalie walks up, plate in hand that Frankie had made for her, nearly identical to Paili’s (cut up hot dogs, plenty of ketchup, extra fries, and apple slices). You tap the empty seat next to you and she hesitates, glancing from you to Will and the empty chair beside him across the table. You wink at her and she smiles, walking around the table to Will.

“Can I sit next to you, Uncle Will?”

He smiles at her. “Absolutely Rosie.”

He helps her sit and she eats her food with a giant grin on her face, chatting away about something that’s important to 5 year olds. Will listens to her intently, responding appropriately.

You feel Benny tense next to you and you look at him, seeing his smile vanish into a line. You place a hand on his thigh and squeeze. He blinks and then looks at you, offering a small smile.

“You ok?”

“I uh..yeah. I’m good, Sparks.”

“Are you sure? You don’t look-”

“I said I’m fine.”

He starts to eat and you watch him, remembering the conversation cut short just before he left town. You hadn’t found a time to bring it up again, with his busy schedule. But it seems you’ll have to find time soon because something was not right.

The night ends late, Paili passes out in Benny’s lap and Rosalie in Will’s. Benny carries Paili upstairs, placing her in her bed and taking off her shoes. While he does that, Will carries Rosalie to your car, placing her in her car seat and buckling her in while she remains fast asleep. You turn on the car to start the ac and step back out, turning to Will.

“Thank you so much for that,” you gesture to Rosalie.

“You’re welcome. She’s a good kid. Hated to see her by herself. Benny tried but Paili is a little in love with him.”

You scoff. “A little? I’m surprised I’m even allowed here at all.”

“Yeah you have some competition there for sure.”

Benny comes out the front door, pausing to watch Will and you talk. His eyes narrow at his brother, but neither of you see it. Will eventually claps you on the shoulder as you get in the car, Will turning to walk back to Frankie to help him. He notices Benny on the patio and turns to walk to him.

“You stayin’ with Sparks tonight?”

“Yeah. Especially since I hardly saw her tonight.”

“Paili is pretty possessive of you.”

“Yup. But Rosalie seemed to take a likin’ to you.”

“She’s a good kid. I just didn’t want her to feel left out.”

Benny bristles. “I was tryin’ to get her to play.”

Will puts his hands up. “I never said you were excluding her. You were trying. Paili just loves you too much to share sometimes.”

“Good thing I had my big brother to swoop in and fix all the things I do wrong.”

Will’s demeanor shifts. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Benny bristles again. “You know what it means. You can’t help yourself.”

Will opens his mouth to retort, but you walk up, having noticed the conversation get intense.

“Hey - hate to break up..whatever this is.” you gesture between them. “But I need to get Rosalie home. You ready?”

Benny’s eyes flick back to his brother for a moment before settling on you.

“Yeah. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

He turns to walk to the car and you follow, hearing Will enter the house and close the door behind him, a little rougher than normal. You get in the car and start to drive.

“Benny, is everything ok?”

He sighs. “Yeah. I’m good.”

You place your arm on his thigh again and squeeze. A minute or so later, you come to a red light and stop. Turning to him, you call his name and he turns to look at you, a hard to read expression on his face.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah.” He turns his head to look out the window, but you reach out and gently grip his jaw, turning his face back to you, meeting his bright blue eyes.

“I mean it Benny. Anything. And if I can help, I will. If you just need me to listen, I will.”

He places his hand over yours and squeezes, the light turning green.

“I know. Thank you, Sparks.”

—----

A couple weeks goes by and you’re getting ready to go to Rosalie’s recital. It happens to be the same night as one of Benny’s fights, making this the first “home” fight you’ll miss.

“Are you sure, Benny? I can just tell them I can’t go.”

“I’ll be fine, Sparks. Go to Rosalie’s thing. Don’t forget to give her my flowers and a hug, ok?”

“Of course.” You had been getting ready in your room, your cell propped on your dresser, Benny’s face across the screen in a video call. You notice the time and swear.

“Shit, Benny. I gotta go. Good luck, baby!” You blow a kiss at him through the screen. He pretends to catch it and put it down the front of his pants, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles.

“I’ll be over after the fight. Might be late.”

“I can’t wait!”

Rosalie’s recital was…long. 2 hours worth of other music students before her well practiced piano piece, played as well as a 5 year old could. You all stood and clapped for her, and you gave her the flowers from Benny after, seeing her smile widen even more. You went to dinner with your brother, your sister in law, and Rosalie after. She sits next to you and tells you all about the recital you just saw, but from her perspective.

“And and auntie Sparks?” Even your niece called you Sparks.

“Yes, Rosie?”

“I…I really like Benny. He’s fun and goofy and nice. And he makes me smile!”

“He makes me smile too!”

“I wish he could be here.”

“Me too. Maybe next time.”

—---

After dinner, you head home, taking a quick shower and tossing on your favorite pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. You also pull out one of Benny’s button up shirts, pulling it on but leaving it open, loving the way it smells just like him still. Your phone pings and you pick it up, expecting a text from Benny, but instead see Will’s name. Frowning, you open your phone to look at the text.

Will (Benny’s Brother): He lost. Technicality.

Shit.

You: Where is he?

Will (Benny’s Brother): He’s here at home. I couldn’t let him drive like this. He’s pissed.

You: I’m coming over

Will (Benny’s Brother): He’s not in a good headspace

You: Which is exactly why I’m coming over

You had already tossed some clothes and toiletries in a bag, sliding on your shoes to head out the door. Will argues with you a few more times before you tell him you’re already on your way and you can’t text while you drive.

Pulling up to their place, you grab your backpack and purse, walking quickly to their door. You’re not sure what to expect, but when you approach the door, you hear raised voices, clearly belonging to Benny and Will. Taking a deep breath to brace yourself, you knock, hearing someone walk to the door and open it. Will stands there and gives you a look.

“Sparks-”

You push past him, dropping your bags on the ground and kicking your shoes off the moment you step inside.

“I don’t need any fuckin’ visitors, Will! Tell Frankie to fuck off!” Benny yells from the living room, his voice oozing anger.

Will grabs your arm, turning you to him and speaking low so Benny won’t hear.

“Sparks, you need to go home.”

There’s concern in his blue eyes, genuine concern. But you yank your arm from his grip, speaking low to him as well.

“I’ll be fine, Will.”

“Sparks-” he moves to grab your arm again but you move forward down the hall, turning into the living room as Benny yells again, a stream of curses erupting from him as he punches the couch next to him. He stands and starts to pace, continuing the stream of swears until his eyes land on you. It takes him a moment to focus on you, the curse words dying on his lips.

But you’re looking at his eyes.

They meet yours in a contest you didn’t know you were a part of. They were angry, dark blue dots of hatred, darting around the room before focusing all the anger towards you. He stands there, clenching and unclenching his fists, which were already cracked and bleeding. His lip was split, making the frown on his face more intimidating. A small welt is starting to appear on his forehead. His presence takes up the whole room, his emotions crowding out any extra air from the place. You swallow and take a step towards him, hand outstretched.

“Hey baby, it’s me. Sparks.”

His eyes narrow at you. “I fucking know who you are, Sparks.”

You try to smile at him, but it seems to make him angrier and he looks over your shoulder.

“Did you fuckin’ call her here?”

Will had appeared in the room, moving to stand next to you.

“I told her you had lost-”

“FUCK YOU, WILL! I WON THAT FIGHT!”

“Benny, it was a no contest ruling-”

“I fuckin’ KNOW! It’s BULLSHIT!” He starts to pace back and forth in a short pattern, only walking a couple feet before turning around and repeating it.

Will studies his brother and speaks quietly to you, not taking his eyes off Benny.

“Go home, Sparks. You don’t need to see him like this.”

“I’m fine, Will.”

He glances at you, catching your eyes. “Please, Sparks-”

“Hey! Why are you tryin’ to send her away? Do you think I’d fuckin’ hurt her, Will?” Benny has stopped pacing, facing Will head on. He stands with his weight shifted back, looking like he was ready for another fight. Will takes a small step towards him but then side steps in front of you, putting his hands up.

“Not intentionally but-”

The second Will had stepped in front of you, something snapped in Benny. “You fuckin’ ASSHOLE!” Benny yells, taking a few big steps towards Will, who tries to shove you out of the way. You side step Will and instead move in front of him, placing yourself between him and his raging brother.

For a moment, Benny doesn’t see you. Not until you put your hand out, touching his chest and applying light pressure does he seem to even notice you’re there. He stops walking but keeps yelling.

“I don’t need you to try and protect my girlfriend from me! I would never lay a fuckin’ finger on her!”

“You’re so worked up Benny, how do you know-”

“FUCK YOU WILL!”

“FUCK YOU BENNY!”

Both men tense and prepare to fight when you put your fingers in your mouth and whistle loudly.

“Ok listen up! Will-” you turn to look at him “- you need to go.”

The anger in his eyes towards his brother leaves the moment he looks at you, shifting into concern. “I’m not leaving you with-”

“Not a choice, Will. Call Frankie or something. Come back tomorrow.”

“You don’t know what-”

“FUCK YOU MAN!”

You put a finger up towards Benny while you still address Will. “I can handle this, Will.”

“I don’t think you-”

“Out please, Captain. Miller.” You apologize as much as you can with your expression, knowing this was also his home too. But Will stirs something inside Benny and you need to have that catalyst gone.

Will clenches his jaw a few times, studying your face. “I have my phone if you need me.”

“She won’t fuckin’ need you! GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Will gives you one last look before turning on his heel, walking out the front door and slamming it behind him.

You slowly turn to Benny, the fire still lit in his eyes, his chest heaving with the weight of his anger.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” you ask in a calm tone.

He starts to pace again, his jaw and fists clenching as he stomps around. “I had him. I had him, Sparks. And then he fuckin’ tried to gouge my eyes out. So I headbutted him.”

“Seems like a natural response.”

“Yes, THANK YOU!” he points at you, missing the slight tone of sarcasm in your voice. You knew eye gouging was an illegal move, but so was headbutting in retaliation.

“The fucker never actually made contact though. Just pointed his fingers which is fuckin’ illegal too. But since I made contact, they made the match an nc. FUCK!” He pulls at his hair, not having anywhere to release the pent up anger.

“Isn’t a no contest better than a lost match?”

“That’s not the fuckin’ point, Sparks.” He speaks through gritted teeth, his body seemingly ready to pop with the force of his emotions.

“Well I’m glad you didn’t get your eyes gouged out.”

He scoffs. “I’d fuckin’ hope so.”

He starts going off again, a stream of swears mixed in with explanations about the fight, his pacing getting worse, a vein in his neck bulging under the pressure of pent up anger. His eyes are so dark, full of rage at the entire situation, and you’re not exactly sure how to help him. You know if he calms a little he’ll feel better and you can help him talk it out. But he’s so outraged, blinded by the injustice of it all and while you can’t blame him, you also know he needs to calm down before that vein pops.

“It’s fuckin’ BULLSHIT!”

“How can I help you, Benny?”

“I- I DON’T KNOW!” He looks around the room as if it held an answer. “I KNOW I NEED TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN BUT I C-CAN’T!” He pulls at his hair, grunting out in anger at the pain.

“Then use me.”

He stops pacing, turning slowly to look at you.

“What the fuck did you say?” His eyes narrow at you.

“Use me to release your…tension.”

“Fuck you, Sparks. You don’t even know what you’re sayin’.’”

You take a small step towards him. Seeing him make no moves, you walk up to him, catching his stormy eyes in yours. You gently place your palms on his chest, slowly sliding them up as you speak, your voice low and calm.

“I won’t break. You have my consent. Use me.”

The words barely leave your mouth before he's on you, his fingers grabbing your jaw, roughly turning your face up as he smashes his lips to yours, pulling his fingers tighter to open your mouth. He hisses, having forgotten about his split lip, but then he pushes past it, kissing you hard. Your fingers tug on his hair, blonde locks twisted up in your hand and he growls, moving his own hand behind your head and pulling on your hair, exposing your neck. His lips find your pulse point, where he places bites and sucks hard, intending to leave a mark. Crying out only makes him suck harder and you feel a rush of wet between your thighs.

Benny releases your neck, watching it for a moment to see the hickey rise to the surface, a small smirk on his face, disappearing almost as soon as it happened. He pushes you and your back hits the wall, knocking a breath from you with an “oomph” as Benny moves in front of you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head in one of his hands. His eyes find yours and you can see the rage and anger from before, the power behind it slowly turning to dark lust.

His hand not holding your wrists grabs at your body, sliding under your shirt and bra. He finds a nipple and squeezes, watching as you grunt and writhe from the pain and pleasure. He starts to roll it, watching as your breathing increases. He starts to move, his hand sliding down the front of you, palming you for a moment as he feels the growing wet patch on your underwear.

He says nothing, the fire growing brighter in his eyes as he grips your wrists tighter, pulling you from the wall. He twists your arms around so he has them pinned behind your back as he marches you forward, stumbling as you try to walk at his pace. He pulls you to him as he leans forward with his free arm, pushing the door open and releasing your wrists, shoving you inside and kicking it closed behind him. Turning to face him, you rub your wrists slightly to wake them back up.

“Take. Off. Your. Clothes.” Benny speaks low and deep through gritted teeth, his body barely able to control himself.

You watch his face for a moment, seeing how he’s still holding back, unable to release all the pent up aggression and anger he feels. He just needs a little shove over the edge…

“No.” You give him the hint of a smirk, teasing and taunting him.

His face darkens as he steps towards you but you remain where you are, standing your ground.

“No?”

“No.”

Years of fighting and training paying off, his hands fly up to the neckline of your low cut shirt and he grips it, ripping it in half as if it were nothing. Arousal rushes to your core as you hesitate for a moment, Benny taking full advantage. He leans forward and moves to unclasp your bra. As he starts to slide it down your arms you snap out of it, shoving back at him a little, trying to slap his hands away. He yanks it down the rest of the way, tugging it from your grip as he flings it across the room. You reach for the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head and throwing it behind you. Benny reaches for your pants and you push his hands away, loving the grunt that comes from him as he reaches for them again. When you push him away again, he shoves you against the door, caging you in with his body as he grips your wrists again, holding them in one hand as his other frantically undoes your pants. He slides his hand inside your panties and you can’t help the whine that escapes you when he starts to slide his finger through your folds. He drops your wrists but doesn’t move, his stormy eyes catching yours as he undresses quickly, throwing his clothes across the room and knocking something off the shelf as he does.

He remains silent but you can see the resolve breaking, his anger finally peaking enough to crack the dam he’s been using to hold it back. He grabs you, fingers digging into your skin as he spins you around, shoving you face first onto the bed. You hit the mattress and start to turn yourself, but you feel strong fingers grip your ankle pulling you a little closer towards the foot of the bed. You twist your hips, trying to spin around again when you feel fingernails dig into your skin as your hip is being pulled back, nails digging into the opposite hip. They grip tighter as you try to turn yourself, your hips being pulled up as you come up on your knees. One hand releases your hip only to shove you down between your shoulder blades, a strong pressure keeping you there as Benny uses his knee to kick your legs open wider. As you push back against his hand, smirking to yourself, he thrusts into you hard, his hips slamming against your ass as he bottoms out.

You both cry out, Benny's more of an angry grunt as he roughly thrusts into you, slamming his hips at a rapid rate. Struggling against him just a little, you try to turn but his hands remain firm, gripping your hip a little tighter and using it to pull you back on him, snapping his hips up as he thrusts in, going impossibly deeper. Unable to stop yourself, you cry out his name and Benny chuckles darkly in response, his laughing broken up by his trusts.

“You-like-that-you-little-slut? Like-how-I-fuck-you-how-I-want?” His words are spoken on each thrust, making them come out in little short bursts. When you don’t answer, he removes his hand from your hip and brings it down on your ass, the slap ringing out loudly over the sounds of sex.

“Answer-me.”

“Yes! Fuck- YES!” He slaps your ass again, rubbing the spot after while pulling your cheeks apart a little bit to watch himself slam into you.

“You-like-being-used?” He chuckles darkly again as he watches you struggle to stop yourself from sliding up the bed, your head nearly at the headboard now. You feel the fire burning in your core, but you also feel his hips start to jolt haphazardly and you know he’s close.

“F-fucking-come-inside-me-Benny!” you manage to pant out with each thrust and he hears you, growling and moaning as he thrusts roughly into you one, two, three more times, feeling his warmth spurt inside you. He’s breathing heavily but his grip doesn’t let up, catching his breath while he comes down from his release.

“You feel better, Benny?”

You feel him lean over you, engulfing your entire body with his size as he gets close to your ear.

“Who says I’m done with you yet?”

Immediately you feel a rush of arousal to your core, still not having come yourself. In one swift motion, Benny pulls out of you and flips you onto your back, shoving your legs apart to slot himself between your thighs. He leans down and latches onto one of your boobs, biting the nipple as he laps at it. You cry out and try to push him off half heartedly. He looks up at you, only for confirmation that you’re ok and you give him a slight nod, letting him know you’re still in the game. He switches to the other boob and you writhe under him, trying to shove at him. He lets go of your boob and reaches up for your wrists as you push back at his shoulders, trying to get him to release that last bit of pent up anger he’s still clinging to.

He manages to grab ahold of your flailing wrists, pinning them to either side of your head. You thrust your hips up, trying to fling him off of you. Although, you continue to thrust your hips up for a more selfish reason, the friction and pressure giving you some relief to your growing heat.

“Now, now, Sparks. You said I could use you and I’m not done fuckin’ you like the slut you are.” He thrusts his hips forward on the word slut and you moan out, Benny managing to hit that spot inside of you that only he can. He sets a rough pace again but you notice it’s less intense than last time, the anger fading from his eyes as he pounds you into the bed.

“I’m only a slut for you, Benny,” you moan out, feeling him shutter and grunt against your skin.

“That’s right. My little..nghh…whore that I can use whenever I want.” He starts to roll his hips up at the end of his thrusts, watching as your head flies back, mouth opening in an O shape.

“Yes! Yes, Benny! Whenever you..want!”

His hips slam into yours, his pace faltering as his second orgasm builds.

“I’m gonna..nuhhh..fill you up and you’re gonna take it like a good girl.”

Benny moans out as he comes again, coating the inside of you with more of himself. His hips sputter as he lets out everything, his eyebrows furrowing and mouth open slightly. He releases your wrists as he pulls out of you with a hiss, laying on his side next to you and resting his hand on your boob, gently massaging it. His breaths puff out onto you as his breathing levels out.

His hand starts to slide down your chest, his fingers dancing along your stomach. You feel his face shift up towards you and you turn to look at him, his eyes back to his familiar bright blue. You bring your hand over and place it on his cheek, watching as he closes his eyes for a brief moment.

“Feeling better, Benny?”

“Not entirely.”

Your brows furrow together as you look at him. “What else do you need?”

He leans up to kiss you, pushing your lips open with his. As his tongue slides into your mouth, his finger slides through your folds and you whine into his mouth.

“Benny this is about you, not-not m-me.” He had found your clit and was rubbing little circles there.

“Oh, this is for me, sweetheart. Gettin’ to watch you come apart,” he pushes 2 fingers inside you as he says those last two words, your legs falling open a little wider as you moan. He props himself up on his other arm, pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling them to hit that magic spot. He adds his thumb, circling slowly over your clit in small circles and smiling to himself as you thrust your hips up to meet him. The squelching sounds are extra loud as Benny gathers up his arousal leaking from you, using it to help him glide through your folds before he pushes some back inside you. He switches up his pace, moving slowly and then speeding up, watching your face as he works you open. It doesn’t take but a handful of seconds before you’re gripping his arm, moaning out his name as you clench down on his fingers. He works you through it, smiling softly as you open your eyes.

“Feelin’ better, Sparks?” Benny mimics your words from earlier.

“Mmhmm. I don’t think I’ll be walking straight for a week, and I’ll definitely have bruises. But fuck me, Benny. That was…” your voice trails off, thinking about what just happened.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No! Not at all! I told you - I won’t break. I know you would’ve stopped if I asked. I trust you, Benny.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. For…for all of this. I- it- thank you.”

You cup his face with your hand. “For you, I would do anything.”

“Same here.”

A few moments of silence pass between you before you break it.

“Benny?”

“Mmm?”

“What are you doing?” You realized Benny hadn’t removed his hand from you and had started lazy movements, gently moving in and out of you while his thumb slides up and down your seam, still slick with your mixed arousals.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes and you smile.

“Benny-”

He winks as he shifts his body down, settling his broad shoulders between your thighs.

“No arguin’, sweetheart. It’s my turn to make sure you feel good, at least 3 more times.”

—----

Chapter 8 >>

#benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #benny miller x f!reader #benny miller smut #garrett hedlund #triple frontier #benjamin benny miller #garrett hedlund x reader #garrett hedlund x you #garrett hedlund characters #garrett hedlund character fanfic #garrett hedlund character ff #garrett hedlund character fanfiction #light me up

[earlgreydream]

Jealous

| loki x reader | smut |

Loki ignores you and you devise a plan to make him jealous, but you’re in too deep when it backfires. 

warnings: spanking, punishment, sex (obviously)

A drink was pushed into your hand, a the fake smile on your face was dazzling. A designer gown that cost more than a car was draping your body, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

Stark’s parties were loud and long and obnoxious. The host of the party was drunk and enthusiastically telling stories of his genius success. Reporters followed around your coworkers like dogs, three of them interrogating you at the moment. You could barely find it in you to give them any attention, your eyes intently resting on your boyfriend. He was leaned against a wall in an all-black suit, drinking champagne with a harrowing scowl on his face. You had to drag him to the party, and he’d left you to stand in a quiet corner as soon as reporters had flocked to you. The public wasn’t fond of Loki, and you knew that. They were unable to forgive him for his attempted takeover, though it had been years. You hated the judgement of the public against Loki, especially when he was accused of corrupting you.

You were America’s darling, the golden girl of the avengers. A late addition to their team, you were adored by everyone for your sweet personality and generally bubbly attitude. The media was scathing when discussing your relationship with Loki, accusing him of manipulating you. They would never be able to understand the love and devotion you had for each other.

However, tonight, he was in a sour mood. You were annoyed that he had abandoned you to fend for yourself against the press, especially after he’d put up such a fight to come in the first place. Your eyes narrowed at him as you made eye contact across the party, and his gaze was hard as he lifted his glass to his lips.

You grew more and more frustrated the more time that passed. You wanted attention, you wanted him by your side, you wanted his hands on you, you wanted him.

“Y/N! How do you feel about Stark’s new weapons line? Have you used any?” A reporter captured your attention. You turned to him, flashing a smile.

“Yes, actually! Stark is a genius as always.” You laid your hand on his arm, giggling at a joke he made. You could feel Loki’s eyes on you, and you could practically feel the jealousy brewing. The reporter blushed and began to stammer, making you smile wider.

“Stark! Come tell them about your weapons!” You called as he passed. He never passed up an opportunity to talk about himself, and he wrapped an arm around your waist with an intoxicated grin. You shot Loki a challenging look, leaning your head on Tony’s shoulder and laughing at something he said.

You slipped out of his grasp, taking the opportunity to get away from the reporters. You walked to the bar, standing Bucky and ordering another cocktail.

“We can feel his jealousy radiating off of him. You’re making him angry.” Bucky warned you, referring to Loki.

“I don’t care. Maybe if he was so jealous he could at least stand by me.” You shrugged, and Bucky seemed uneasy.

“Y/N, you’re playing a dangerous game-”

“Let him be mad if he wants.” You swallowed a generous amount of my drink, and Bucky dropped it, giving up on trying to warn you.

“Dance with me.” You said to Bucky, setting your empty glass down on the bar.

“Y/N, you’re going to really piss him off-”

“You’re dating Steve, I don’t think Loki needs to worry.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Bucky to dance with you. He relaxed as he expertly moved your body along with the music, dipping you low to the ground.

“Excuse me.” You left Bucky after a couple of songs, walking to the restroom.

After drying your hands, you went to fix your hair in the mirror. A startled gasp left your lips as Loki suddenly appeared behind you, wrapping his hand around your throat.

“Loki-?” You were caught off guard, and you were dragged back and pinned to his chest, seeing his green eyes blaze with anger in the mirror.

“What are you playing at, Y/N? Are you trying to make me jealous?” Loki gave you an opportunity to confess and apologize, but you looked back at him, standing your ground.

“I’m just having fun at the party. Just because you pout in the corner doesn’t mean I can’t talk to reporters and dance with a soldier boy.” You taunted him, feeling his grip tighten around your throat.

“Why are you being a brat? Is it because you’re so fucking desperate for my attention, you’ll get it any way you can?” Loki’s voice was dangerously low, but you refused to show your anxiety.

“I can get attention from anyone.” You dug yourself deeper, and Loki bent you forward over the counter.

“Loki!” You gasped, tugging at the magic binds that held your wrists to the faucet. The cold marble was pressed against your chest, the edge of the counter digging into your hips, pushing your ass out.

“Not so bold now?” Loki mocked as you struggled.

“Have you lost your mind? Someone could walk in-”

“Let them. You wanted to flirt and whore around, so let them walk in and see you bent over the counter for me.” He snapped, and your eyes widened. As much as you hated it, the threat made arousal pool between your thighs.

You knew it was an empty threat, Loki would never let anyone see your body. You knew the door was magicked shut, but his words still made warmth spread through your belly.

“You’re mine. You’re mine alone, and I didn’t realize I would have to remind you.” He ran his hands down your sides, and you looked up at him in the mirror, your eyes widened when you saw his suit was gone, and he was standing naked behind you.

“I’m yours.” You breathed, squirming against the counter, trying to arch off the cold stone. His hands went under you, groping your breasts roughly. You squeaked as he rolled your nipples between his fingers through the thin fabric of your dress, and you rested your forehead against the countertop as heat seeped through your panties.

“Loki, I’m-- ah-- I’m sorry!” You shrieked as he pinched roughly, making your back arch. 

“I’m going to make you remember that nobody could ever touch you like me or make you feel good.” He hissed in your ear, making you moan eagerly, nodding.

“After I punish you for acting like a brat.” He finished, a yelp leaving your lips as he slapped your ass with force, pain stinging through your skin. He lifted your dress to bunch around your hips, leaving your ass exposed to him. 

“A black lace thong, hm?” He snapped it, making you jerk. Soft yelps caught in your throat as he delivered several more slaps to your ass, and you tugged pathetically, failing to free your wrists. You knew he could see your arousal dripping down your thighs, and you blinked away moisture from your eyes, trying to look at him in the mirror. 

“Loki, please!” You begged him, wanting him to ease up on your ass and fuck you like you wanted.

“Please, what, Y/N?” He taunted, knowing exactly what. He wanted to hear you say it, to further your embarrassment. He spanked you again when you didn’t answer, and you swallowed your shyness. 

“Please, fuck me!” You cried, and he tore off your thong, kicking your legs open wider. You wanted to touch him, and you yanked on your hands, but he didn’t let them go.

“You’re fucking soaked, you dirty girl. Was it from dancing with the soldier?”

“No, no, it’s from you.” Your voice was broken as you struggled to speak. 

He dragged his fingers through your folds, and you writhed as he stroked at your opening, avoiding your clit and not entering you. He was making you writhe and beg for him, completely at his mercy.

“Needy girl.” He mocked your pathetic whimpers. 

You screamed as he fully entered you in one thrust, his hips connecting with the heated skin of your ass. You choked on moans as he relentlessly snapped his hips, hitting you deep with every thrust. The roughness burned, but pleasure was coursing through your body, making it easier to ignore. You tried to grind against the edge of the counter, needing stimulation on your clit in order to cum.

“No, you will not come. You’ve been a brat and throwing yourselves at other men. So you are going to bend over and take what I give you, and you’re going to hold it.” He ordered, making you sob desperately. 

“Please, please, please!” You squealed helplessly and he held you still as he emptied his seed into you, coming inside of your tight heat. You whimpered as he pulled out, using his fingers to push his thick seed back inside of you as it dripped. You were shocked at his willingness to just leave you. 

Loki was an incredible lover, always attentive and making sure you came multiple times. The sharp contrast of his dominating roughness left you jarred and unsatisfied. 

He knelt down and pressed a kiss to your aching cunt, making you shudder as he stood back up. 

“Come on, darling. Stark’s party has another couple hours. You did want me to stand by you for interviews, didn’t you?” Loki hummed, slipping your dress to fall back down over your legs. 

“Loki, I don’t know if I can walk.” He laughed, releasing the invisible bonds on your wrists and pulling you up to stand. He held your jaw and pressed a tender kiss to your lips, leaving your head spinning.

“You’re so pretty in this dress, darling. Come on, let’s go enjoy the party.” 

You walked out of the bathroom, his hand on your lower back. He murmured affirmations in your ear, and put a drink in your hands, smiling at Bucky and Steve as they chatted with you. 

“Y/N, how is everything with your boyfriend, here?” A reporter asked you, and you leaned back into Loki’s chest. You fought off the urge to slip into subspace after the sex, and you gave the reporter a dreamy smile.

“It’s amazing. Loki is wonderful to me, as always.” You answered, looking up at the young god who smiled down at you. You were dazed as you kept up with the party, and there wasn’t a second without Loki’s hands somewhere on your body.

“Loki, please, this party is too much.” You whispered to him. You wanted to go back to the privacy of your suite, and be alone with Loki. He gave into your request, whisking you away back to your bedroom. 

“I need you, I need you to make me come. I’m sorry I was a brat.” You babbled softly, and he gently kissed you, slipping the dress off of your shoulders and helping you step out of it. 

“I’m going to take care of you darling, relax.” Loki hummed into your neck before laying you down carefully on the bed. He was attentive to the fact he’d destroyed you earlier, and he knelt down between your legs to eat you out instead of putting you through another round of fucking.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you, I just wanted attention!” Your words came out in shaky breaths as he licked through your folds, pulling your clit between his lips.

“My darling, I know. I love you, I’m no longer upset. If you want my attention you need only ask. Now hush and let me make my gorgeous girl feel good.” He said with a kiss to the inside of your thigh. You weaved your fingers into his black hair, rocking against his face as he ate you out, bringing you to the edge within minutes. 

“Loki!” 

“Let go, darling.” He coaxed you, and the coil in your belly snapped with a scream. You throbbed as you came, and he rode you through it, licking up everything that dripped from your aching center. 

“I love you,” He said softly, pulling you to lay in his arms and lulling you to sleep.

#Loki x reader #Loki smut #Loki fluff #Loki imagines #Loki fanfic #Loki #marvel

[bokettochild]

Violet

So y'all remember this animatic? Yeah?

I wrote a thing based off of it.

I'm not entirely sure how I fee about it, but y'all have shown how much you like my crack in the past, even if I wasn't sure about that either, so...

Here's Legend getting mistaken for a mom and pulling his brothers into a terrible impromptu acting adventure.

There are many things you do not do in Castletown.

One of those things, apparently, was taking Twilight with you, and next time he had a chance Legend was seriously considering muzzling their wolfish friend, in his shadow form or not.

He wasn’t the only one with that thought either apparently, although likely the only one who was thinking it out annoyance rather than utter and complete terror. Honestly, Twi needed to cut that protective streak of his in half, or he was going to be regretting it even more than he was going to regret this!

They’d all met thieves before, on the road, in villages, even here in Castle Town, and unfortunately Warriors’ central city was particularly full of them. The captain had explained it ages ago, something about the war displacing people and stirring up unrest with the refugees. It wasn't uncommon that someone got tired of relying on the crown for help, which, the captain had admitted sorrowfully, was rather slow in coming, despite all of Artemis’s efforts, to provide any sort of relief to the starving and displaced victims of the war. Legend had winced at that. Poor blokes, it had been similar in his own Hyrule when those trapped in the dark world emerged again, and even back in their Hylian forms, many of them had struggled to readjust to a world that had moved on in their absence.

It was little wonder than that those in the captain’s time faced the same struggle, especially after a bloody time war, but even so, it bothered him to no end that their group specifically had been the one that the idiot of a man chose to target. Honestly! They were all carrying swords for pities sakes! How did the sod even think he was going to catch a bunch of warriors unawares to steal from them?

Maybe it was because they were split.

It only made sense, after being dropped in the captain’s time, that they restock supplies. Both for practicality and to avoid suspicion, they’d divided the group into two to better run their errands, Time taking those less accustomed to bustling cities with him to gather food and potions, and Warriors leading the rest of them, those who could stand crowds at least a little bit better, to visit the blacksmith, fletcher, and tailor shops.

True to form, the captain strutted ahead with his scarf waving behind him, Wind tagging along beside him and chattering excitedly about something or other at the soldier. He and Four, however, had chosen to trail after, not for any particular reason other than both being extremely tired and maybe just a bit emotional.

In his own case, he hadn’t slept in a good sixty-three hours or so, and combining that with the stress of wandering around in an unknown place, he was a little more sensitive than usual and a bit put out as a result. Similarly, Four was fighting off his usual headache from their sudden switch, and ever since they’d pulled themselves out of the alleyway Hylia dumped them in, the shortest hero had worn his hood pulled over his eyes, mumbling softly under his breath in a way that was, unfortunately, unnerving Legend further and making him want, very much, to beg the other to stop.

That wasn’t an option of course, so he did something he hated almost as much as the saunter Warriors was using to get down the road.

He made small talk.

It helped, surprisingly, and while the four of them had run their errands, he chattered amiably with the smithy, who’d been willing to talk as long as he didn’t have to think too much on things. Legend could agree with that, and the two had spent the last half hour discussing if Four’s tunic really was red, green, blue and violet, as the smithy claimed, or red, green, blue and purple as Legend thought it was.

“It’s violet.” Four huffed, pushing the last bundle of arrows into his pack as they departed from the smithy’s shop and made their way back to the fountain at the center of town, where they'd agreed to meet with Time and the others.

“But it’s not!” He insisted, shifting the bundle of fabric in his arms and meeting the smithy’s gaze. “Violet is softer, duskier, a bit closer to grey or blue. That’s purple, plain as day!”

Warriors and Wind, for once, didn’t say anything, only exchanging grins every so often that the other two ignored.

Talking with Four was surprisingly pleasant, and ridiculously easy in comparison to talking with the others. For one thing, neither had to look too very far up or down to see the other, and as they’d found since their first dinner at the ranch, it was easy to say a lot with just a look. Subtle communication also went a long way further with the smithy than with anyone else, and it was a relief not to have to explain everything for once. Additionally, Four also liked reading, and unlike with most of their other brothers, they could actually have intelligent conversations with each other.

Not that that’s what they were doing when they’d trailed after the other two towards the fountain, but when they heard the snarl and resulting scream, the look the two heroes shared had carried as many words as a full two-hour lecture, while all at once conveying a single thought.

Oh boy, what did Twilight do this time?

What Twilight had done, he found out later, was spring a thief who had attempted to snatch the Sheikah Slate from Wild, who’d been a bit busy trying to calm his anxiety to really notice that one of the humans pressing close all around him was actually trying to steal it. That, naturally, was all well and good. The problem was the way Twilight had chosen to handle it and Legend swore there were days that Twilight forgot what form he was in; rather than pushing the thief away or grabbing ahold of them and confronting them, the gracious rancher had chosen to fling his entire body weight at the man and bite his arm.

Of course, that was only what Legend found out later, what he saw when the four of them managed to peek through the crowd, was Twilight standing there in full sight of the entire market with blood on his teeth and a man screaming in pain and terror at his feet.

Bravo, Rancher, bravo.

“Oof.” Wind winced. “That’s not good.”

“Shit.” Warriors swore, glancing around nervously and ripping his scarf off to hide in his pack.

Realization sprung on the vet like Twilight had the poor thief; Warriors was the hero here. If anyone noticed him, or any of the knightlier looking ones, they’d probably try and have them arrest Twilight. That was all well and good of course, as it would make a reasonable excuse to haul the rancher out of the way, but they’d be expected to call for help from some soldiers, and while they’d been planning on meeting with the queen while they were here, having Twilight presented to her as a feral, potentially insane, and definitely dangerous criminal was not the approach they were aiming for.

They needed a distraction, fast.

So, like the reasonable and totally mentally secure Hylian that he was, Legend shouted the first thing that came to his mind. “Violet!”

His three companions stared at him, and had he been capable, he would have stared at himself, but a desperate glance Fours way had the other drawing back, nodding slowly as Legend shouted again. “Violet? Honey?”

Warriors looked at him like he’d lost his head, gripping Wind’s shoulder firmly as if worried he’d have to pull the kid back from the apparently mad veteran.

Thank Din for teaching him acting years ago, even if it was all stage performing, but he was counting on it to get him, and Twilight, out of their respective messes, even if that meant building his higher before he could escape. At any rate, he’d caught the attention of a few people with his panicked shout. Turning to the nearest Hylian that wasn’t one of his group, he gently tapped the woman’s shoulder, letting his panic and everything in general spill over into his face and voice as the woman met his gaze with a startled look.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for-” Oh Four was going to hate this. “-My child, Violet. Have you seen a blonde Hylian child, so tall?” He lowered his hand to approximately where Four’s head would reach. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” He forced a fake sob into his voice, glancing from the woman to the surrounding crowd, and Warriors and Wind in its midst.

Wind was stifling a laugh behind his hand while Warriors stared in utter shock.

“Oh my,” The woman touched her cheek, clucking lightly and patting Legend’s hand in a consoling manner. “You poor dear! I haven’t seen a thing but just give me one moment.” The burly housewife turned, still patting Legend’s hand gently as she murmured something to the women behind her, before turning back to Legend with a sorry expression. “None of my friends have seen your little one, dear. But-” The woman turned and, with all the force and volume of a cow, hollered at the top of her lungs to the crowd as a whole. “Hello? Yes, this woman is looking for her daughter!”

Woman?!?!?!

“Her name is Violet! She’s-” The woman blinked, looking to Legend with a worried look as several other market goers turned to stare, many of them women with looks of pity and understanding that was making him wish he’d stayed silent. Fortunately, his ruse had startled them out of staring at the sight of a mauled thief as worry for a poor young mother and her lost daughter took its place. “She’s how old?”

Legend fought the protest of female pronouns, both on Four’s part and his own, but only in his head. Outwardly however, he covered his face with the hand not being smashed by the farm-wife's own. “She’s four.” Shoot him, he was saying whatever came to mind because he was panicked, alright?

A snort could be heard behind him, earning disapproving looks from the crowd that soon shifted to pity as Wind too joined the act, turning his snort into pitiful sniffling as he clung to Warriors’ hand, looking for all the world like a child who’d been to the market too long and wanted to go home, but was also panicking at the loss of their sibling. “Have you all seen my sister?” The sailor blubbered softly, actual tears spilling down his face as he pouted, expression making his act so believable that no one even questioned his height. As if to make the act more convincing, Warriors wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulder, his own face stiffening into something that could either be gas or worry, Legend was a bit on the fence.

“What’s going on here?” Legend wished that was Time stalking towards them in full armor, but it wasn’t, it was a Hylian Soldier, staring at the crowd with a grim frown on his face as he turned to Legend, standing in its center.

Oh well, those who crack under a tough audience get tomatoes to the face; he just hoped Wars would keep playing along. “My daughter,” He sobbed into his hand, pulling the other free from the housewife to properly cover his face. “She- My baby- I can’t find her anywhere, Sir!” Later, Warriors would begrudgingly admit that the look Legend shot the soldier was enough to break any heart as the vet stepped forwards, grabbing hold of the man’s arm with all the desperation of a worried mother. “Please tell me, have you seen a little girl? She’s in her favorite dress, the colors of the goddesses, red, green and blue?” He motioned down at his own tunic, skirt, whatever one would call it. “There’s a violet corner too, I made it for her myself- oh my poor baby! I can’t seem to find her anywhere!”

The grizzled soldier quickly melted under the power of tearful violet eyes, and he too gently patted Legend’s hands as if he thought it would do any good. “I’ll have my men look for her right away, ma’am. How old would you say she is?

“She’s four.” He reaffirmed. Might as well stick to his original story.

“So tall?” The farm-wife motioned, hands lowering a bit more than Legend’s had, but the woman was trying to help, so he couldn’t really be upset with her for getting it wrong. At this point though, he was a bit worried about where Four actually was, because he’d expected the shorter hero to make an appearance sooner rather than later so the act could end.

“Right.” The man nodded, pulling himself loose as Legend brought his hands to clasp in front of his chest in an imitation of the maids he’d seen worrying about the halls when Fable went missing. “We’ll do everything in our power to find your little one, madame, you have my word.” The soldier bowed, kissing the back of the vet’s hand graciously before moving back into the crowd and snapping orders at the soldiers stationed around the market.

People buzzed by, spreading the word of ‘little Violet’s’ disappearance as Warriors and Wind pushed forwards to where Legend stood.

“Really, vet?” Warriors murmured lowly.

“I panicked.” He admitted softly, as to avoid anyone noticing as he wrung his hands. “But seriously, where is ‘’Violet’? I thought he’d have appeared before it became a big thing.”

The captain frowned, settling a hand on his shoulder carefully and standing on his toes to look over the crowd as Wind giggled at the scowling veteran. The minute he shot a look down at the sailor though, the kid had picked up his role as smoothly as if he’d never dropped it. “I’m worried, mom.” Wind blinked past fake tears, and had he not needed to remain in character, Legend would have scowled and flicked the kid’s nose for the tease.

“I am too, honey.” He sighed instead, ruffling the sailor’s curls and looking over to where the others had been. Time and the others had disappeared into the crowd again, likely trying to keep a low profile and laughing their asses off at Legend’s expense while Time and Sky scolded Twilight.

“Mama?” A small voice called out, and the crowd, and he meant the whole crowd, the whole freaking crowd of several hundred people, froze as a small face peeked out from an alleyway, the smithy’s hand coming up to rub at his shimmering purple eyes with a sniff. “Mama?”

“Violet!” All three heroes surged forwards, Legend sinking to his knees and wrapping Four in a hug, taking the opportunity when his face was hidden from the crowd to scowl. “About time you showed up.” Aloud for the crowd however, he let sobs pitch his voice hysterically. “Oh honey, you can’t run off on mama like that! I was worried sick!”

And as if to put the icing on the cake of shame, one of the men in the crowd smiled softly, patting Warriors’ back with a friendly smile. “Your wife is quite the caring mother, isn’t she? Ah, you’re a lucky man, Mr.”

Legend forced himself to not blow their cover, no matter how little they now needed it with the others safely out of sight. Breaking character meant causing drama that they didn’t need. ‘Violet’ had been found, the cute little family would depart, people would calm. But if the worried mother turned out to be a screaming teenage boy and the lost daughter to be a smithy apprentice with a height problem, people would likely riot. So instead of turning around and giving the man a piece of his mind, he pushed forwards, hefting Four in his arms (the smithy sank into him with a sigh that couldn’t have been faked) letting the smaller hero nestle against him, hood hiding the smithy’s face from view as he pulled them both up, adjusting his arms so as to not drop the other.

Man, he was glad he’d put on power bracelets today.

“She is indeed.” Warriors forced out, a strained smile on his face as he settled his hand on Legend’s waist, stiff, cold and incredibly awkward. “We’d probably better head off, dear.” If the captain smiled any harder, he’d break his teeth. “Or the inns will all be full.”

It should have ended there, it should have. Legend was so ready for it to end (although Four was warm and a calming presence as the smithy began to doze against his chest), but because fate loved to mess with him, it didn’t.

“You’re looking for a place to stay the night?” The Man-Who-Needed-To-Be-Kicked cocked a brow. “I run an inn here, just across the square. I’m sure we can find a lovely little family like yourselves a place to rest, you and our wife must be exhausted after such worry!”

Warriors, sages curse and bless him, nodded along stiffly, gently pulling him along by is waist after the Blasted-Innkeeper-Who-Would-Be-Kicked as the man chattered about family discounts and free dinner. Legend’s shoulders only lowered when a free trip to the bath house was also thrown in ‘complimentarily’.

He regretted it when someone pointed him to the ladies’ side of the bath-house (think heavens it was empty that early), and he was about ready to strangle something or someone when the others joined them inside, stuck with a regularly priced room, and the smithy and vet both were bombarded with teases as Warriors sat looking utterly and completely disgusted.

“They thought we were married....”

Legend groaned, flopping over on the other side of the bed with a grimace. “Gross, right?”

“Yeah.”

"We’re forgetting this ever happened, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Regardless, no one ever let them forget it happened.

Legend was buying Twilight a muzzle, and he was pretty sure Wars would be willing to help.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #linked universe crack #idiot writes crack #lu four #lu legend #lu warriors #lu wind #lu twilight #animatic #legend and four are best friends shoot me

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 2

Summary: While marriage was the last thing he’d want, especially with his enemies’ daughter, the Darkling isn’t above playing dirty to get what he wants. But his wish for a wedding night turns sour once he realizes his bride is anything but a weak human.

Warnings: angst, swearing, sexual references

Part one   

===========================

Walking down a hall, Y/N felt her heart drop as they neared a room meant for them. Glancing over her shoulder, she realized Darkling’s faithful Grisha followed them every step of the way.

Stopping moments before she walked into her now husband, Y/N turned on her heel. With a smile believable to anyone with an outsider’s perspective, she folded her hands before her abdomen.

“Did you guys enjoy the wedding?” Her voice is light, cheerful even. It felt odd, enough for Kirigan’s eyes to narrow at Ivan and Fedyor who replied simultaneously.

“Yes.” “No.”

Chuckling, she raised her eyebrows, “Well, did you both attend the same wedding?”

Swallowing thickly, Fedyor decided to speak for Ivan who was still disgruntled nearly as much as Kirigan.

“The wedding was perfect and you were a vision.”

Humming, she nods, “I’m glad it wasn’t a waste of time for you as it was for me. Good evening.” Turning her back on their flabbergasted faces, Y/N lifted her chin before entering the room on her own.

She could hear Kirigan’s annoyed sigh as he dismissed his Grisha, but the sound of the doors closing truly rattled her insides. Looking to him, she held her breath to stop a shuddered one from escaping her.

"I understand it's not what you expected", he smiled frostily. "I had plans that didn't include you either. But I suppose we'll both have to make do."

She scoffed, narrowing her eyes, "Make do?"

It was their wedding night, doors shut with no witnesses and the marriage arranged for the two of them felt like a noose tied around her neck. She swallows thickly, hyper aware of the bed dominating the room behind her and her hands, wrapped in each other behind her back have begun to tremble.

The general she married leaned back against the door, looking her up and down with a smile of slow appreciation. "Well, you are mine now."

"I may be tied to you by state laws, but I am not yours", she spat.

"No", he smirked, "Not yet." He peels away from the doors, stepping closer. He takes off his black kefta, draping it on a chair. Beginning to unbutton his black, silk shirt, the General looked at her as if she were a caged bird meant for his amusement.

"There are some traditions for tonight", he took one step toward her as he hummed.

"Are you familiar with the word defenestration?" She raised her voice ever so slightly, refusing to step back in fright. He does not get to challenge her and win. Not now, not ever. She does not draw back in a fight, her father taught her so.

"No", he raised an eyebrow, unsure what she means.

"If you come anywhere close to me", she growled out, "I will make sure you find out first hand."

"Don't be so quick to dismiss a good time", he purred, coming closer.

"Oh please, my heel is bigger than your dick."

Raising his eyebrows, the Darkling nearly scoffed at her confidence in this matter. "How can you be so sure when you've never even seen it?"

"No man with anger like yours could ever have something in his pants worth my time."

"You are my wife, are you not?" He narrowed his eyes at her and she rolled hers in contempt.

"Unfortunately."

"Glad you're aware of it", he licks his lips, "Means we're on the same page."

"Same page? We're not even in the same book!"

Those eyes of hers, as fierce and unperturbed by anything he did, could swallow stars and galaxies and universes. As far as he's concerned, she did for he could see them all mirrored in the defiance she locked her gaze onto his with.

"This", he whispers aggressively. "You", he presses closer until his lips are but a faint inhale away from hers, "Are mine. He gazes down at her, gauging her reaction, his eyes burning.

"You're a demon", she speaks through gritted teeth. "I don't trust demons, I don't lay with demons", she pushed against his chest with both her hands, "All you do is destroy."

"I’d say the same thing about you, human."

Rolling her eyes at him, she refuses to relent. Her body is tense, her neck aching from looking up at his dark presence she would not bend before. She isn’t a horse to be broken, she’s a soldier, her father’s daughter.

“Why are you glaring at me?” He grumbled, his lips nearly brushing against hers and she noticed.

Her heart skipped a beat once she realized just how close he is, “I’m hoping you’ll combust spontaneously.”

Raising an eyebrow, a cold smile forms on his lips, “Ah, how cute. But you’re no Inferni.”

“I’m better”, she brought her knee up so swiftly he didn’t see it coming. As her knee collided right between his legs, Kirigan bent over, bellowing in pain.

“Don’t you know who I am?!” He growled with fury, struggling to straighten up. Forced to look up at the smug smile upon her lush, rosy lips, Kirigan never felt more enraged by a woman before.

“I do.” Shrugging, she sat at the bottom of the bed. “I just don’t fucking care. You don’t scare me.”

His gaze felt like fire, setting every inch of her skin aflame and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was hate or lust that burned so bright within him….within her. Either way, she knew she’d be teasing him like this every day if it meant he’d look at her like that. She always did like playing with fire, Inferni or not, and Kirigan just made himself an easy target.

On one knee, he gripped the sheets in an attempt to pull himself up, yet all he could do is groan and clutch his groin.

Gripping his chin, she locked her gaze on him with an unforgivable disobedience. “I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. I’m not a dutiful wife who desperately seeks your attention. I’m a general’s daughter. I was born to make the world shatter and shake at my fingertips.” Turning his head to the door, she leans in and whispers in his ear. “And now you can leave while your manhood is still relatively untouched.”

“I could kill you for this”, the Darkling threatens, wishing he could wrap his hands around her pretty little neck and squeeze the resistance out of her along with her life.

“I’d like to see you try”, she sneered. Standing abruptly, she turned her back on him.

Sitting with his back against the doorframe, Darkling glared at her with burning passion – for vengeance, of course. While he assumed she’d be difficult, he didn’t presume her to be as strong-willed. A part of him was certain she’d cave once he turned on his charm, but she never allowed him to.

Noticing her hand movement, he quickly realized she’s unbuttoning her kefta as well. In seconds, his eyes widen as she slips the kefta off her shoulders and it falls to the floor. Nothing but a sheer gown hugs her body so tightly, the Darkling felt his breath stop in his throat.

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on him, “Do you have no manners?”

She kept her eyes locked on his as she turned, opened her gown and slipped it from her shoulders, exposing her body to him. In his eyes appeared a mix of hunger and desire in such intensity that she was both excited and frightened.

“I’m the only one allowed to look at you, that’s a right you can’t strip me of.”

In time it takes for a heartbeat to echo in her ears, the Darkling stood before her. She took a shuddering breath as he gathered her into his embrace.

“Are you planning on forcing yourself onto me?” Y/N’s jaw clenched as her nostrils flare.

Pressing his lips together, his dark eyes narrow in disbelief, “Do you honestly believe me to be so evil?”

Speaking through gritted teeth, she remarks, “Yes.”

Nodding, her purses his lips. Raising his hands in mock surrender, Kirigan moves away from her. He straightens his back, finishing unbuttoning his shirt until the end – just before he lets it fall to the ground.

She swallows thickly, refusing to look anywhere below his chin. For a moment, she could have sworn a flash of hurt crossed his eyes, but she blamed the candlelight for the deceit. There is nothing good, nothing human in general Kirigan. He cannot feel hurt and she refused to let him past her defenses. She will not feel for him, she will not fall for him. He’s a task she had to manage, nothing more.

Unzipping his pants, he took the rest of his clothes off.

Her eyes flicker to his middle as he heads to the bed, realizing he’s wearing undergarments.

Relieved, Y/N opened the drawers, finding herself a proper nightgown to cover herself with. Once her body was no longer open to his view, she looked to him with pursed lips.

“I will not touch you”, he rolls his eyes, “But we are married. Might as well make the rest of the world believe the arrangement is somewhat functional.”

Looking at the door, she contemplated leaving. Sharing a bed with someone, anyone, was intimate. It required trust, love, a sense of safety and loyalty she certainly didn’t share with Kirigan.

“If you choose to leave, it will be all they talk about it the morning”, Darkling warns her and she huffs.

“If you lay a hand on me, I’ll be seeing you at the end of the altar once more. But in a casket during your funeral”, she glares at him and he can’t help but chuckle at her words.

He watched her settle in the bed, beside him. Placing a pillow between them seemed rather odd, but he didn’t mind it. In fact, he half expected her to make an attempt on his life on their wedding night. He still wasn’t sure she wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do the same.

“Sweet dreams, wife”, he smiled as she blew out the candle and the darkness settled in. He always felt comfortable in the dark.

She never felt comfortable in darkness, but he’d never know. She would be brave from now on – she wouldn’t bend, break or bow to anyone.

“I hope your dreams are filled with Volcra”, she snapped before turning on her side, further away from him.

Eventually, despite her initial distrust for the man, Y/N fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. She shifted in her sleep, throwing her leg over Kirigan’s, her hair twisting round and round his arm.

But the Darkling did not fall asleep immediately. She moved against him and snuggled closer. Even though she wouldn’t come close to him awake, she reached for him in her sleep. She wanted him nearby and it drew a smile to his lips. Catching himself smiling, the Darkling sat up in distress.

She may be appealing, but he cannot get attached to her. Ever.

His heart beats loudly, deafening so, his mind unable to slow down even for a moment. How could he fall asleep when he knew this angel beside him was simply a devil in disguise?

She’s a human – daughter of his enemy. Once she serves her purpose, the Darkling knew what he had to do. Turning her back on her side, he fixes the pillow in the middle. She’s a human, fleeting, he’s eternal and he will not allow himself the weakness of caring for someone like her.

Just as his mind drifts, he feels an arm wrap around him and he tenses up, eyes opening wide. “Fuck.”

Tags: @kaqua​ @savannah-elliott​ @all-art-is-quite-useless​

PART 3

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #shadow and bone #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader

[keysmashingfantasies]

Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N:  i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad). 

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie! 

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

-

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and  it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

-

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”.  After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

-

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

 ‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

-

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.

#niragi loving hours in this mf house #niragi x reader #niragi fic #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi imagine #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland fic #niragi suguru x reader #suguru niragi x reader

[my-tin-can-mans]

She Knows Part 2, (Wolffe x Reader)

OH BOY. First I'm sorry this took me so long I've been busy with college. But! this is the longest fic or anything really I've written so wow. Hopefully you enjoy.

Warnings: angst, mentions of Alcohol, mentions of cheating slight smut (minors do not interact or read).

Note: italics are flashbacks

“So, what do you usually do during leave?” the question threw you a little of guard. You’d been stationed with the 501st for four months now, four months since you’d broke it off with Wolffe after… everything. You had been the head medic in the 104th battalion, but quickly put in a request for a transfer after the humiliation Wolffe had put you through. The only position available was with the 501st, working under their head medic, Kix. It was a demotion sure, but honestly it took a lot of stress of your shoulders and well, anything to get away from the situation you were in.

Working with Kix almost 24/7 forced you two to grow close and form a close relationship. It was more of a brotherly/sisterly love than anything else, though others saw how well you two had worked together and insisted you would make a good couple, you both were comfortable where you were, which you were grateful for, it was nice to have a friend as kind and understanding as Kix.

Tomorrow the whole battalion would be stationed on Coruscant, the general had some jedi duties to attends to and the war was at a standstill for the moment, giving the men time to relax instead of being thrown under another general for a while.

You had been checking bacta supplies when Kix happened to spring this question on you. Freezing your hand in motion as you had begun to type up an order to restock while planet side. You’d never actually had a leave without Wolffe. Most of the time on leave was spent in that dark corner of 79’s, the other half in a hotel bed.

“Mesh’la, come on, up. I promised the men we’d meet them tonight for a round.”

“But I don’t wanna go Wolffe can’t we just stay here? The sheets are so soft and I don’t feel like wearing clothes.” You’d whined.

“I already told them we would be there, now come up before I drag you out of bed.”

“you wouldn’t,” you peeked your head out from under the covers, narrowing you eyes at him, he stood at the foot of the bed, wearing his blacks sans shirt. He himself had just untangled from you and the sheets. How he had the willpower to do so you had no clue. He dawned his famous predatory smirk on his face

“Are you questioning my word Mesh’la, because you know I always keep my word.” He took a step forward, his thighs now touching the mattress.

“of course not Wolffe,” you gave him a sweet smile, “but I bet I could change your mind.”

“oh?” he raised an eyebrow. “do tell.” He placed his hand on either side of your feet, leaning over the bed

“why don’t you come up here and find out.”

With one swift move Wolffe was on top of you now and you brought your hands to his face pulling him in and kissing him, it was rough and passionate, you really didn’t want to leave and you wanted him to know that, hoping he would see how desperate you were and decide to stay. But after a few moments he pulled back, looking down at you with that damn smirk again, “that was quite convincing.”

Before you could retort anything Wolffe had left from his position on top of you, yanking you up to your feet in the process, “but unfortunately like a said before, I am a man of my word and I already gave it to my brothers, sorry mesh’la but you’ll have to show me your negotiating skills another time, I promise ill make up for it.”

“To be honest Kix I’ve never really done much with my leave time, ya know? I just kinda destress and go out every once in a while.”

“Oh? Well do you have any plans for our first night off then? Me and a couple of the boys are gonna be at 79’s if you’d like to join.”

The mention of 79’s made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t been back there since you’d found out about Wolffe. “I don’t know Kix,” you sighed, 79’s was a clone bar, and also a favorite hangout spot for the man you had been trying to forget about.

“oh come on, you think Jesse’s a horrible flirt now, just wait till you see him drunk, you’ll be laughing so hard your stomach will be sore in the morning.”

You snorted a laugh in response, Jesse and you were also pretty close, but he was notorious for always trying out stupid pick-up lines on you, he took every opportunity he could to flirt with you, even when he had gotten injured and you were stitching him up, “you look so pretty when your concentrated.” He had said.

But the issue at hand still itched in the back of your mind, what if Wolffe was there? Going back to your holopad, typing up the order you were previously working on to make yourself seem less concerned about your next question you asked him, “the 104th isn’t on leave right now are they?”

“no I don’t think so, why?” Kix had since turned around focusing on organizing medical supplies to help you order.

“Nothing, just, ya know making sure.” You’d told Kix about what happened between you and Wolffe. Just about every clone knew you two were dating, Wolffe always had to make it known you were his. So Obviously everyone was curious as to what had happened.

He turned and looked at you, realizing what you meant, “Oh Kriff, this is your first leave without him isn’t it?”

You nodded, too afraid, after months of finally getting yourself together you didn’t want to revert back to breaking down again.

“Hey listen, if you don’t want to be there I understand. But maybe it would help ya know? We’ll all be wasted you’ll totally forget about him I promise we’ll have a good time.”

It was very convincing, you’d seen the 501stparty and 79’s before, they went hard, unlike Wolffe who was usually more private and reserved. That didn’t mean you two still didn’t have fun in your own way on leave.

Much to your dismay you’d put on a dress and Wolffe had dragged you to 79’s anyways. The second you’d stepped into the place the music and dark lighting consumed you. It was loud tonight. The 501st was celebrating a successful occupy over a separatist world and you could tell. The blue armor was spread throughout the crowd, some at the bar hitting on the women already occupying it, and some on the dance floor.

You wished Wolffe danced more with you, you loved to dance but he only ever accompanied you once, and that was after a drinking competition with Thorne who was hard to beat. He didn’t even remember it in the morning.

Without a second glance to all the men, Wolffe grabbed your wrist and led you back to the booth he always sat at. Instead of the usual commanders, Sinker and Boost sat there awaiting their commanders arrival after being promised a drink with him. You slid into the booth and Wolffe sat right up against you.

He was broad so he took up most of the space, he always presented himself in such a way that he was always there, chest puffed out, shoulders broadened and head held high. When he got situated he spread his legs, taking up more space and knocked his with yours. The two of you practically sat in each other’s lap with how close you were to each other. he placed his hand on your thigh, resting just below the sundress you and reluctantly put on earlier.

It was a last resort to get him to stay in with you. It was his favorite. The first time he saw you in it he’d practically kneeled before you, although you were sure he was just trying to get a peak underneath.

Four shots were already at the table when you two had arrived and Sinker, who was sitting in front of you, had passed one your way while Wolffe grabbed his own downing it without even flinching.

As the night drove on, the men began to become tipsy and Wolffe’s hand grew higher and higher. It was when Boost was at the climax of telling you a story from before you had signed on with them that Wolffe finally breeched your center, rubbing his index finger over the already wet spot in your panties.

You jumped, not expecting him to be so bold as to touch you in front of his men. You turned to look at him but he was looking straight on at Boost, absolutely engrossed in the story he was telling. Without making eye contact he leaned over, giving you a small peck on your temple, while at the same time, he pushed you underwear over to the side and slipped a finger into you.

His face was flushed, from the alcohol or the devious act he was performing you couldn’t tell. It was probably a mix of both. Wolffe rarely showed PDA in public especially in front of him men. So you were practically in shock with what was happening right now.

You went to grab a sip of your drink while he slowly pumped his finger a few times before deciding to add another. You let out a chocking noise.

“Hey you okay?” Sinker seemed concerned at your reaction.

“Yeah, yeah just fine, drink must’ve gone down the wrong piper there” you tried to play it off.

He bought it just fine, resuming the conversation that had started up after Boost’s story. When you turned to look at Wolffe again he was wearing that shit eating grin he often dawned and maker you wanted to wipe it clean off.

When Sinker and Boost were distracted enough, Wolffe leaned into you, “come on now mesh’la, I did say I'd make it up to you, and as I recall we’ve already proved I’m a man of my words.”

“Well I guess a few drinks wouldn’t hurt.” You thought back to all the times you’d seen blue armor on the dance floor and envied the fact you hadn’t been there as well, “but I better get a couple of dances out of you guys”

Kix chuckled, “I can promise you, if you stop by for long enough those men will be fighting over who gets to dance with you next.”

You bellowed out a laugh at that. The thought of Jesse, tup and the rest fighting over you was quite the scenario. “Just comm me what time you boys are gonna be there at.”

He nodded his head in agreement, both of you chatting lightly about other topics as you finished the order.

****************************************************

The ship had landed a few hours ago, longing for a good night’s sleep you had left the barracks for the stay, packing up your necessities and checking into a hotel a few blocks out of the main traffic for some peace and quiet.

As you were getting ready for your night at 79’s Kix had sent you a comm message, letting you know they were on their way and would be arriving in 10 minutes. All you had left to do was dress yourself. You rummaged through the bag of clothes you had. It wasn’t much, mostly GAR issued scrubs and a few dresses. You heart stopped when you saw the dress though. The one that was always Wolffe’s favorite. You picked it out, holding it up so you could see the whole thing.

Kriff. This dress brought back so many memories. It almost hurt to look at it. if you were being completely honest with yourself though, you did look damn good in it. screw it you thought. Time to make better memories in it.

After you slipped the dress on you hailed an air taxi to 79’s once inside you scanned the bar, looking for the men who were going to take up your evening. You spotted them at the bar ordering drinks and from the looks of it Jesse was already on his shit and flirting with the bartender.

You walked up to them and their heads turned. Jesse let out a whistle, “Damn, look at you! If I didn’t know any better I'd say you were trying to entice me.”

Kix shook his head at that. Putting his face into his palm. Tup who happened to be standing beside Jesse elbowed him to which Jesse frowned at. “Could you not flirt with my favorite medic?” he turned to you, “you look nice by the way, but not in a creepy I want to get with you way like he meant.”

You let out a giggle. You were already having a great time and you hadn’t even been in the building for five minutes. You took a seat at the bar between Kix and Jesse, Tup to the other side of him.

As the night ticked by you happened to get pretty tipsy, never getting truly drunk for fear you couldn’t make it back to your hotel safely. The men held their alcohol well though and although they were drinking twice as much, they were probably the same level intoxicated as you were. You all stayed at the bar, cracking jokes and telling insane stories, often Jesse would flirt with you or the bartender but it wasn’t too much and you both welcomed the light heartedness attention he gave.

An hour in you heard a voice behind you, “Hope I didn’t miss too much.” You swiveled in the bar seat, turning around to be face to face with the captain of the 501st.

“Captain!” Kix exclaimed, “what took you so long?”

“Sorry boys had a few reports I needed to fill out before the night ended.”

“Well, were glad you here now.” You said.

You got up to give the captain a hug. Something you defiantly wouldn’t do sober, but the alcohol had given you a little confidence. Rex looked surprised by the affection but embraced you anyways. He leaned down and you put your chin over his shoulder patting him on the back staying like that for a second.

It was then that you wished you hadn’t hugged Rex, hadn’t drank as much to give you a confidence boost, and hadn’t stepped a foot in this maker forsaken bar again.

He sat there, in the seat he always sat in when he came here. Only this time he wasn’t with any of his troopers or the other commanders. This time he was with another girl. She was a purple Twi'lek and she was drop dead gorgeous. And the dress she was wearing, or lack thereof because of how tiny it was , made you look like you had just picked yours straight out of the garbage. And you couldn’t help but wonder.

Was that her?

“Kriff Wolffe, what the actual Kriff!” you screamed, you didn’t care about the other guests in the hotel, you were so mad you were practically seeing stars.

“I'm sorry mesh’la I'm sorry I'm so so sorry.”

“No. No! don’t you dare call me that right now. I can’t – I don’t even have words for you right now.”

“please, please let me explain,”

You whipped you head around to him, seeing a whole new layer of red. “Explain? What is there to explain Wolffe. You cheated on me then proceeded to not tell me while apparently everyone else knew and I found out through one of your brothers! Isn’t that enough of an explanation.”

You sat down on the bed, head in hands. He kneeled down in front of your feet. Placing his hands atop of your knees. “I'm sorry.” He whispered. You slapped his hands off you, the thought of him touching you after another woman practically revolted you.

“you already said that.”

“I know, and I mean it I am, it was a mistake, I- if I could take it back I would, Maker I- I hate myself for letting it happen.”

“you should hate yourself.”

“I do, I do. Please, tell me what I can do to make this better.”

For a man who was supposed to be well tactical he kept making all the wrong moves.

“Wolffe there is no making this better. What’s done is done and now it's time to move on.” you finally made your decision, after debating back and forth in the air cab on how to react.

“Yes of course let’s move on, it was in the past but I love you Mesh’la I want you that’s all.”

Kriff that’s not what you meant. “No Wolffe, I mean I’m moving on. from you. I- I can’t continue to be with someone who has done what you’ve done. It's- it's not fair to me.”

By this point tears were strolling down your face. You turned your head to wipe them, not wanting him to see how much he had broke you. “no, no please I- I love you please we can fix this we can work this out please just stay I- I need you.”

“I love you too Wolffe, but there is no fixing this. I loved you so much that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I gave you everything thing, I gave you all of me and you took that and you stomped on it, you might as well of placed my heart in a dumpster and set it on fire.”

He put his head in your lap. A single tear rolling down his face. “please, please don’t go, I'm so sorry.”

“I know Wolffe. But I can’t accept your apology.”

Your head was pounding. He wasn’t supposed to be on Coruscant right now. Kix had said so himself. You pulled back from Rex. He placed his hands on your shoulders his face blocking the view of him. He smiled warmly but his expression quickly changed when he saw yours.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost” he joked.

But you facial expression didn’t lighten, in fact it only got worse. With every waking second, every harsh beat of whatever hit song was playing over the speakers you drew yourself inwards more and more.

“hey hey what wrong?” Kix had left his seat at the bar quickly coming to your side. Him and Rex both dawned a look of concern.

“You said he wouldn’t be here.” You turned to Kix, channeling you emotions onto him.

He looked confused at first, but the realization hit him and he turned his head to look over Rex’s shoulder. Rex followed his line of vision and they both saw him. Sitting there in the booth, while the woman clung to him, practically in his lap.

She was kissing his neck, which honestly surprised you, Wolffe was never one for public displays of affection. Or maybe that was just with you. Because he seemed to be enjoying this.

Rex turned around to face you again, a look of panic and empathy on his face, “Kriff I'm so sorry I- he was on a solo mission with General Koon and they’re stationed here for the night so I told him I’d be here. I'm so sorry, it was an honest mistake.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that from a man in this room.

You felt like the whole room was spinning, be that the alcohol or the nervousness and upset that came with seeing him again you weren’t sure. All the men you had come here with were suddenly surrounding you with sympathetic looks and it felt like someone had placed a spotlight on you and you just wanted it to go away.

This night was meant to help you forget him, be happy and have fun with your new assigned battalion. Kriff was the so much to ask for!

“hey hey come on now,” Jesse finally broke the silence, “forget about him! If I remember correctly I promised you a dance earlier?”

This made you finally break out of your trance. You needed a distraction, and had been waiting for someone to dance with all night.

“actually I would love to Jesse.”

“right this way then”

He held out his hand for you and took you to the dance floor. The song that was playing was loud and upbeat, you and Jesse moved together to the beat, it was fun and you really enjoyed it, when the beat of the song dropped everyone on the dance floor was jumping to it, you and Jesse did the same

When the song stopped, you were practically out of breath, you let out a laugh of relief, actually feeling a little better. You looked up are Jesse and he was smiling at you.

“Feeling better, huh?” he asked.

“A little, thank you.”

A few second later another song had come on. This time it was more slow, the partners on the dance floor started to grab each other.

Jesse grabbed your waist. “Come on huh? let’s give that son of a blaster something to look at, plus this might be the only time I get to be this close to you, despite my attempts” he smirked at you.

You nodded your head, letting out a giggle at his lame excuse to flirt with you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you in closer, your chest practically touching his. And finally you both started to sway to the beat.

A few seconds in Jesse started rubbing his thumbs on your hips, trying to calm your nerves, and it worked. Caught up in the music you started to lightly grind your hips into his, although it was soft guarded by his armor, he still took notice to it. smirking at you and grinding in time with you. His hands started to rise, growing closer and closer to under your breasts, but never reaching, knowing he would be crossing a line, and although Jesse was a flirt, his last intention was to make anyone uncomfortable.

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. You could feel his breathe on your skin, and his nose rubbing up and down. He placed a soft his on your shoulder and the next thing you knew you were being turned around. His hand were back on your waits, but his cheat was now pressed up against your back. He gave you a harsh grind into your ass and you gasped. His arms now wrapping around you, pulling you impossibly tight into him. His head resumed its spot into your neck.

“is this okay,” he whispered into your ear.

“yeah.” You breathed. He kissed you neck this time. but it was just one short one, it was slow, and hot, you closed your eyes. he placed them all the way up your neck, all the way up to your jaw. All the way close to your mouth, and he whispered again, is this okay.

You nodded your head, eyes still closed and you turned you head towards him a little encouraging him. And his lips met yours.

You hadn’t kissed very many people. Wolffe giving you the majority of your experience. and although they were clones, they felt completely different. When Wolffe used to kiss you he practically stole your breath, he put everything he had into kissing you, and it was almost always hot and it made your insides flip, no matter how many times he kissed you, you always felt dizzy and perfectly happy, like his kissed could cure any problemed you had. To say Jesse was a bad kisser would be a lie, it was a good kiss, but it almost made you feel the opposite, all you could think about was Wolffe.

And when the song ended and you opened your eyes you were facing him again. Him. And he was sitting there with his lounge practically down the woman’s throat. And it hurt, hurt to know that he didn’t even acknowledge you. Hadn’t even cared that the person he once begged to stay with was with someone else now. Even though you weren’t actually. It hurt that he used to kiss you like that and now he was kissing someone else like that.

you weren’t sure if it was the beginning of the next song, or if your head was going fuzzy, but all you could hear was ringing in your ears. Jesse had unwrapped his hands from around you and the moment he did you sprang towards the doors of 79’s.

you heard the faint sounds of Jesse, rex and Kix calling out for you but you couldn’t be bothered to hear what any of them had to say. You left the building and walked a few blocks. Finally coming across an empty alley. You pressed you back against the cool metal of the building you were beside and let out a breathe. The air was cool and crisp against your skin, but it felt good.

After all the time you spent forgetting about him you were practically back at square one. And it pissed you off. How dare he have this effect on you.

You let out a sigh, gathering your emotions. And when you finally felt calm enough you went to comm Kix, letting him know you’d be going back to your hotel for the rest of the night, but you were interrupted.

“Mesh’la.”

ending notes: soooo, im not sure if im gonna do another part on this or not, i have some ideas for other fics but im kinda cramped on time at the moment so we shall see.

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