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kingconia · 8 months

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TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS WITH A READER, WHO IS INSPIRED BY THE PROTAGONIST FROM THEIR STORIES

A/N: I didn't add Kalim or Jamil, because I feel their storyline is too much Aladdin & Jafar inspired already to do anything else with them.

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— That was definitely a dislike from the first sight. He predicted you to be his future reason of headache as soon as the mirror sent you to the Heartslabyul;

— Riddle sees you as an air-headed fool, who only asks too many unnecessary things, daring to question the wishes of the Red Queen, instead of serving to your dorm as a proper student would do;

— You, from the other side, struggle with understanding what makes Riddle hate you so much. You were nothing but kind towards him, always suggesting to eat some sweets together, and trying to ask him to take a break from his studies to hang out with you or others;

— When he overhears that your signature spell makes you others to tell you the truth, Riddle is... Intimidated. He is afraid that you will use is against him, and so, he starts ignoring you more often.

•

”Housewarden acts like an asshole towards you, though.”

Riddle doesn't even need to think twice to recognise a loud voice of Ace Trappola, another troublemaker in his form. He knows that he should just give him a punishment and leave for a lesson, but instead, he hides in the nearest bush, waiting to hear the rest of the conversation.

”Oh, Ace. You are being rude,” you mutter softly, sighing at your classmate. ”Perhaps, a housewarden doesn't like me, but this feeling is not necessarily mutual.”

Riddle raises his brows in surprise. Why, though? He is aware that his attitude is nothing but awful when it comes to you. He doesn't have a proper reason for that, either.

”You should, really,” Ace rolls his eyes. ”Dude has a problem with you liking white. And what else? Being nice?”

That isn't true. He is fine with you liking white—though, he admittedly got frustrated when you asked him on your first day why painting roses red, if they are prettier when they are white—and being nice. He just considers you too naive for this world.

”I think, you are... Misjudging him.”

That is right, Riddle mutters mentally. Tell him, Y/n.

”I think, the reason why housewarden is so... Let's say, annoyed by me, it is because I am everything he grew up hating and being restricted with. And it is harder, when something you should never be interested in, is nice and interesting. I think, housewarden is just confused.”

He feels his cheeks blushing furiously.

What did you say—

”And I think you are just being delusional,” Ace chuckles, patting your shoulder softly. ”Now, please, let's get out of here. I want to find Deuce.”

Riddle listens to the sound of your rushing steps, but he can't care less about it now. All he can do, is to recite your words, again and again.

Does he really think you as a nice and interesting?

Yes.

Does it make him hate you even more?

No, but he wishes it could work this way.

Until now, though, he merely returns to his studies. Maybe, you can be honest with yourself and everyone, but this kind of thing is not for him at all.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— Leona didn't notice you at first. Honestly, never planned too, until you started to cling to him in some idiotic attempts to be... What? Friends?;

— You remind him so much of Cheka, but he actually likes his nephew deep inside. And your presence is absolutely insufferable;

— You are too childish and annoying, and all you do is sway your tail as you try to befriend him, while pretending that you actually like him. Leona knows you have ulterior motives. Stop lying to him!

— He finds it stupid how someone so moronic as you managed to pull out such an interesting signature spell. Manipulating dreams of others? How cruel.

•

”Stop doing that,” Leona hisses, digging in your wrist as you try to touch his hair. ”I am seriously going to kill you, if you keep doing this. Do you hear that?!

A few weeks ago—approximately since you figured out your magic—Leona started saw dreams. Very colourful ones, cheerful even. And each, with the same meaning: he becomes the king, and his family and people adores him.

He hates it.

And he hates you for doing that.

Because, of course, he doesn't need your fucking pity. Your condescension. Your gifts. He doesn't need to be mocked!

”Ah? Leona-sama, what is it?” You blink, confused.

”What is your problem, huh?” He hastily jumps on his legs, towering on you. ”Don't you have anything to do? Go and mind your business, brat!”

Your lostness shifts in sadness. You are not scared of him, you are never are—another proof that you don't take him seriously—but you dare to look at him like that. As a kicked puppy.

”What did I do?”

”Stop sending me these stupid dreams! I don't need your pity, do you hear me?!” He yells, still gripping your wrist tightly. ”Go and dream of your family or something, instead, would you?”

”I... I am sorry,” you mumble, and your eyes dart on the floor.

Leona closes his mouth, when realisation dawns on him. You don't have a family to dream about; you are an orphan. Yours, the previous crown family, were killed by his great predecessors.

He doesn't know why he feels bad, when you picked the fight first.

”I will never bother you again, Leona-sama. I apologise.“ You repeat, and your voice suddenly sounds numb.

That is not the sight of you he, or anyone else, was used to. Not a single emotion on your face. You just snatch your wrist from his hold, before leaving him alone as he asked to.

”You are such a jerk,” Ruggie whistles from behind, appearing almost from nowhere.

”Shut up.”

”You know that they can't send any control dreams, right?” He continues, hands on his hips.

”What?” Leona unwillingly turns head on his vice.

”Dunno, but they only can adjust if it is going to be nightmare or a good dream,” Ruggie yawns. ”They are just a first-year, so... It is your brain that decides where is where for now.”

Fuck.

Leona hisses furiously.

He is so fucked up.

Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵

— Oh, so this is love? He notices you in the crowd of other students, as you flinch from loud voices from dynamics, clearly knowing very little of this world, and he is amused. Someone is clearly more social awkward than he is;

— Azul thinks you don't like him that much, though, because you only wave at him, and when he once tried to speak, you merely nodded and smile all the time without answering him properly;

— It is until twins tell him that you don't have a voice. You were brought to this world completely mute, because of the family curse, and though you hear everything, your only way to communicate with others is writing. Or a sign language;

— But if anything gods blessed you is your magic. Everything you touch turns to gold, and that is actually the main reason why you were kept isolated over years. Azul is over heels for you now...

•

”I am glad that you took time to accept my invitation, Y/n.”

Azul locks his hands together, looking at you with unhidden excitement. He is always too nervous in your company—luckily, you can't read a room—but today is a special day.

You smile at him, instead of answering.

”The reason why I asked you to came here, it is because I have a deal for you,” he continues carefully, weighing his every word. ”Do you see that?”

He points with his finger at the middle of the table. There is very beautiful necklace with pearls and a little seashell, looking quite normal and mundane. You nod again.

”That is something that could break your curse,” he explains, enjoying the way your eyes widen in the poor shock. ”Yes, yes, you heard me right. With that, you could speak easily.”

Azul can't help but soften as you tear up instantly. There is a whole minute, when he fights an urge to give it to you for free, but... He built his reputation too long to break it so easily.

”But, of course, I will need something from you in return.”

You tilt your head in question.

”I...”

I need you to love me.

”...I need you to use your power for my business when it will be required.”

And with that, Azul quickly shoves another contract to you. You blink a few times, but there is no back thoughts in your head. Quickly, as if afraid that he will change his mind, you took the pen, and leave your signature on all places, where it was needed.

Ah... Angelwish, why are you so naive! It kills him! What if he tried to use you? You didn't even read a contract! You really should be glad that Azul loves you so much.

Before he realises that, you are already putting a necklace on yourself.

One second, two. Three.

You are staring at him.

”Well?” He asks, anxiously.

”A... Azul?”

His heart drops.

Your voice is amazing. And hearing you saying his name is even better than he expected. He blushes.

”Azul... Thank you?”

”S-sure.”

Seems, like it is his turn to be speechless...

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— He originally had nothing against you... Until other students didn't start to call you the most beautiful person in the world, following you everywhere obsessively, and suggesting you to become the next housewarden;

— Vil now officially hates you. Each time you come to him ends up with short anger impulses that he hardly hides from you, and he wishes you could just disappear;

— He is quite... Cruel with you. He wants you to change your dorm, actually, so he desperately pushes you to the edge by giving you impossible tasks to fullfil, and turning others against you;

— And he thinks your signature spell, speaking and controlling animals is another proof that you should leave Pomefiore for Savanaclaw.

•

“I don't think you are stupid, un petit entraîneur.”

Vil narrows his eyes, leaning slightly forward from his balcony. The sight of his vice speaking with you—hunter's interest in you was his another concern—annoys him instantly.

”What do you mean, Rook?” There is a big cat in your lap, clearly another of your minions.

”You know that our dear housewarden wants you out of here,” he murmurs, moving closer to you. ”A fair exchange with Savanaclaw, I would say. He doesn't like you here.”

You sigh.

”I figured it out, trust me. He made it very clear by always putting me in dangerous situations and giving me outdated products for skin, making me look like a fool in front of others.”

You don't mention how he makes you clean dark and messy rooms of other students.

”Yet, you are not willing to give up?” Rook touches the strand of your hair curiously.

”You know, I actually liked him a lot,” you admit suddenly, patting the cat behind its ear. ”Vil was the world for me. I was so amazed by him. By how collected he was, how hard he worked. I was excited to become his student... I wished to show him what he is worthy of. That others see his hard work.”

Vil's breath hitches. He remembers you mentioning that you were his fan, but he punished you for this remark; he didn't need to be so violently degraded. But... Was it a truth, then?

”...It is in the past now. I witnessed his true colours, and I will not tolerate it,” your smile twists in something more vicious, a ghostly fondness leaving your pretty face. ”He doesn't need to be scared of me being better anymore. Because I am going to be so much worse.”

He shudders as he hears that, your voice cold, and eyes gleaming dangerously. And as if Rook addresses him, he sighs suddenly, with the strange excitement in his voice:

”Oh, mon doux karma. What had you done?”

Idia Shroud. 💙

— From the minute you open your mouth in his presence , Idia knows he will hate you desperately... It is not serious, though;

— You are unbelievably loud, and too cheerful, and too proud, and you are so self-centred? Also, a fucking bimbo. Idia has no idea why everyone so into you, and what you are even doing in Ignihyde! Go away!

— You annoy him so much, and he actually hates the way you try to befriend him and make him more normie! Stop be like that! You are not welcome!

— Idia is absolutely not impressed that your signature spell is an instant tactics creation. Fuck you, by the way.

•

“You do know, that doors exist, right?” Idia hisses, not even stopping his game to spare you some attention.

”I do!” You say, climbing through the window with a loud thud.

”Then, why don't you use them, idiot?!”

Idia has no the slightest idea why anyone, let alone you of all people—he means, since you genuinely think that it is healthy to spend all your time outside of the room—would want to become his friend. But here you are. Trying to befriend him for a month already.

”Because you never open the door, Idia-sama,” you shrug easily.

”Take a hint, maybe.”

You close the window behind yourself, taking place behind his chair. Putting elbows on it, you hum thoughtfully, glancing from Idia to the screen of the computer, where the game flashes on. Another few minutes, and familiar yelps fill the room:

”Shit!”

Game over.

”Idia-sama,” you frown, ”maybe, I can help you?”

Idia snickers, rubbing his tired eyes. As if.

”Have you ever played this game, even?”

”No,” you murmur shyly, scratching the back of your neck. ”But I am good at tactics. And it is combat game, correct?”

Idia ponders for a while. That is surprising, because... You are actually absolutely correct. For once.

”Sit down, first year,” Idia exclaims, suddenly excited. ”I am going to teach you how to play this game.”

You smile widely, doing as it was told.

Finally, you cracked the code! And they said you weren't for this dorm...

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— Of course, he missed you as the new student at first, since he forgot to arrive at the orientation day. But it is not that long as he starts hearing others praising you, Lilia especially;

— You are quickly becoming the part of the school life as everyone loves you, and calling you ’the heart of the school’. And while Malleus wants to befriend you, too... He also can't help but feel envious of how easy it is for you. The socialization;

— You are quick to fall asleep everywhere, much like Silver. And since Malleus can't find courage to speak to you, he wanders around, when you are asleep at the strangest places, instead;

— When the first overblot incident happens, your signature spell kicks in. To everyone's horror, it is absolutely terrifying. Your magic is about thorns. Thorns, that wrap around Riddle's weakened body, when he touches you. He almost dies. And the same thing happens with Ace, who accidentally brushes your skin. Now... Everyone shun you away.

•

”Hello, Malleus-sama,” you mutter, eyes sleepy as you look around. ”I apologise.”

Malleus doesn't quite mind you falling asleep in the class, where his gargoyle's researches are going currently. He is the only member, anyway. But he nods.

”I had never seen you here before,” he notices in a poor attempt of the small talk.

You shrug.

”There is no other students here. And it is better for me not to show up around them.”

What a familiar thinking process... Somehow, he finds it easier: to approach you know, when you are not everyone's favourite anymore.

”I see. You can stay, then. I am not welcomed by them either, so no one is going to enter this classroom.”

You offer him a smile. It is short, strained at the edges, but still sweet. Malleus thinks he understands how you so easily charmed others in the last months; you are much like sunshine, when you are happy. It is a shame you are not, anymore.

”You know, Malleus-sama, I always wanted to become your friend,” you admit suddenly, making him open his eyes in surprise. ”And, I think, you wanted to be mine friend, too.”

You? Why would someone like you want to have him as your friend?

”And why would you think that?”

You fold arms on your chest slowly.

”You are always here, when I am sleeping,” Malleus feels blush touching the tips of his pointy ears. You elaborate. ”I am not sure people realise, but I sleep too much not only because I am lazy, but also because I feel surroundings better like this. I remember everything I hear in my sleep, and I do feel if someone is around.”

Ah. So, that is the secret of yours. And he wondered how you master in all your classes, when you sleep all the time...

”...I see,” Malleus mutters, ashamed. ”I apologise, then.”

He reminiscences of how often he whispered you some nonsense when you slept—childish complaints about how he hates you for being so easily loved by others, random poems that came to his mind as he sat down by your side, stories from his childhood—and feels like disappearing in the shame wouldn't be that bad.

”You know, Malleus-sama, you and I... We are not so different. We both do what we have to do to keep our loved ones to ourselves,” you sit down on the couch beside him slowly. ”But it leads only to one thing.”

Malleus gazes at you curiously as you suddenly curl on his lap, much like a cat. Your eyes met as he helps you to settle more comfortably.

”To destiny?” He asks aloud, tilting his head.

”To pain.”

There is a beat of silence in which your smile suddenly appears to be more bitter, less serene. Malleus doesn't know what happened with you in details, and how awfully these changes in your reputation affected on you, but he can say that it was hard.

”Now, if you don't mind, and I believe, you don't, Malleus-sama, I would like to dream a little bit.” You warn him, already closing your eyes, not really waiting for the answer.

Still, Malleus nods. Though that is not something you can see.

”Sleep, then... Beastie,” he sighs, patting your hair gently.

You snicker, before your breath slows down, alarming that you completely drifted off.

Malleus stares at you openly now.

Ah, who would've thought? He had finally made a friend.

Part two with Leona & Vil is here.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus x reader #vil schoenheit #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 months

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Out Of Character - LN

Summary: Lando has never been the type to get violent even when he's got good reason and is provoked. But when y/n's ex-boyfriend shows up, he thinks he's got more than just good reason

Warnings: Lando goes into blind rage

No part 2 requests please

Y/n being freshly broken up and being thrust upon the single market via a night out, really it was the last thing she wanted to do. .

"Y/n...you look stunning." Lando comments as y/n appears looking down at her phone.

"He's not text me back." Y/n mumbles earning a frown. "God, I'm so pathetic. I get myself dumped because he finds someone better then I spend the next two days "

"Hey, don't say that." Lando scolds as Max and Pietra appear. "Can you guys please tell her that she's not pathetic and that he has hasn't found someone better?"

"You aren't. He hasn't." Max and P agree earning a look from the young woman.

"Phone." Lando demands holding his hand out which makes her eye it like he's holding out a poisoned branch at her. "Y/n."

"Fine." Y/n grumbles putting her phone in his hand before he slides it into his pocket. "I guess if I'm third wheeling with anyone, it's not the worst person in it being you."

"Thanks." Lando hums offering his hand while Max and P are already heading out since the Uber is there. "You're going to be alright, y/n. I'll take care of you."

"I know you will. You're not an asshole." Y/n smiles making him grin at her before they head out.

Y/n did feel her mood beginning to pick up and with Lando having hold of her phone, he did have to deal with Ben finally replying trying to win her back. Which if she'd seen the messages, Lando knows would've worked.

Ben is the most manipulative person Lando has ever met and it's not secret that she is without a doubt wrapped around his little finger.

But what Lando expect when he steps down from the DJ set is to find that y/n is bickering with none other than Ben himself. He must've arrived while Lando was distracted.

Y/n's got tears threatening to spill over while she finds her bicep in Ben's hand, even in the strobe lights and darkness, Lando can see the white knuckles giving away how tightly he's holding her.

But reaching her from the distance he's at, he doesn't have the time to fight through the crowds before she's being very aggressively yanked away.

"Max? Max. Ben has y/n." Lando exclaims spotting his friend on the way over as he tries to fight his way through the crowd on the dance floor. "He's just dragged her out."

"Shit." Max groans the looking at P. "Stay inside. I don't want you involved in this."

Pietra definitely looks like she's going to argue since she is friends with y/n too. But the expression on Max and Lando's faces stops her from saying anything, instead just nodding.

By the time the two have marched outside, there's a few people who seem to be watching the exes argue.

"You broke up with me! Did you think you think my friends are the type of people to let me sit and mope over you?" Y/n questsions, her hand over his own as she seems to pause trying to pry his hand from her arm. "Will you let me go? You're hurting me."

"You think I'm just going to let you open your legs like a whore for Lando to finally-"

"What are you talking about?!" Y/n exclaims, not bothering to temper her volume anymore. "Get off."

"Hey, get the fuck off of her. Why is she repeating herself?" Lando questions as he appears with Max behind him.

"Oh here he is, the man with a god complex. Here to save the day, hero?" Ben laughs while y/n grimaces at his fist tightening around her arm, as if to make a point.

"Lando, it's ok." Y/n whispers catching his gaze and shaking her head to try and dismiss his efforts. "I'm handling this."

"Mate, maybe we should wait for her." Max states but Ben speaks up.

"Yeah, mate. Not getting your dick wet in a whore tonight. Or not this whore at least."

Lando's not really sure what happened. He didn't see red. It was more like he completely blacked out in rage. The only sense he had was the feeling of pain shooting through his fist a few times. The feeling of bone under skin crunching from the impact.

The sound hits in the form over y/n's voice screaming as sets of hands scramble time yank Lando's body backwards.

Eventually he's slingshotted back landing on another body that cushions his fall. The haze of darkness that clouded his vision finally clears and y/n appears.

"Hey, hey. We need to get you out of here." Y/n states as she looks at him for a moment. "Lando, are you listening to me? We need to go."

"I got him."

"I'll catch up." Y/n nods as Lando looks down at his right fists which looks pretty battered and bloody. It's only then he looks behind y/n that he sees some security looking at Ben who is conscious, thankfully but it looks likes he might have a broken nose and maybe a broken jaw. "Go on, Lando."

"I'm not leaving you with him again."

"You've incapacitated him and made your point. He's not going to touch me. I just have to make sure he doesn't press charges against you. Can you please?" Y/n stresses not actually worried about about Ben but more for Lando's reputation.

"Come on mate, she's right. We'll wait for her somewhere else. Get you some ice too." Max states yanking Lando up to his feet but Lando looks at y/n.

"Take your phone. We'll be waiting." Lando states making her sigh and pick her phone from his pocket with a small smile.

Lando is sitting on the curb while Max goes searching for P, just in time for y/n to appear and sigh sitting beside him.

"I'd love to know what the fuck you were thinking." Y/n comments with a sigh then pulling Lando's iced hand to her lap, looking at the damage. "Zak is going to kill you...and then kill me for being the reason behind you decided to try and break a man's face."

"I wasn't really thinking. But I wasn't going to let him talk about you like that." Lando sighs shaking his head. "Did he hit me back?"

"Uhh...I don't think he had much of a choice." Y/n sighs then smiling lightly. "You went kind of feral. I don't think he was prepared for that."

"I don't think anyone was." Lando mumbles trying not to flinch when he feels her thumb brush over his knuckles. "I don't know what you saw him."

"I don't really like being alone. And the moments he was the good guy that I know and love-loved. Those moments were amazing. It's a lot easier to look in from the outside and cast judgement."

"You deserve better." Lando mutters shaking his head.

"Well in the theme of sounding cliche. I believe the saying is that we accept what we believe we deserve."

"Can't fault you for being wrong. Not everyone can be right all the time like me." Lando smirks while she laughs and sighs. "So am I being charged for assault?"

"No he's not that stupid." Y/n sighs softly before she watches his gaze flick down to her already bruising arm. "It's fine."

"Do you wanna stay at my place tonight? It's closer." Lando states earning a small nod before Max and P reappear.

"Oh god, what happened?" P asks rushing to the two.

"Lando happened to Ben. We should go." Y/n sighs looking at Lando as she stands up and offers her hand. "Come on, hero."

After getting back to Lando's they order food before Max and P head to bed, claiming they're tired but the drunk smiles and wandering hands definitely left no room for guessing.

Y/n had already changed into some borrowed Quadrant clothes and curled up into the corner of the sofa while Lando purposely squished up to her in his slightly drunk state just to really poke at her.

"I'm sorry you got involved." Y/n sighs shaking her head. "I forgot he had my location on my phone and he followed us from that."

"I stepped in because he was hurting you...and I don't really remember throwing the first punch. I just blacked out from rage in a way." Lando admits earning a frown from the young woman. "I just wanted to protect you from an asshole who never deserved you to begin with."

"You know you're sort of proving he had reason to be jealous and threatened by you when you go on like this." Y/n laughs lightly then shifting till she's at an angle to rest on his shoulder. "Are you going to fight the next one if he treats me badly?"

Now there is an opportunity here. A chance to do what he should've done before that asshole ever laid his eyes on her.

"I would never treat you badly...and it'd be hard to fight myself."

He feels her head lift as she looks at him, definitely in shock so he gives it a few beats before turning his head to look at her.

"Lando..."

"You can say no."

"But you know I won't." Y/n states then sighing. "You know, I convinced myself a long time ago that we would never be anything more than what we've always been."

"Why?" Lando frowns since for years he's hated holding himself back from it all.

"Because you've always been so work-focused and whenever we were together I mean we flirted but I guess I just assumed it was how our friendship worked." Y/n shrugs then groaning. "Fucking hell. Which one of us was blind?"

"You."

"But-"

"I always knew, but...I thought I'd let you figure it out." Lando cuts in then sighing. "Not my most strategic of moves, I'll admit but still."

"You're a dick."

"So...are we going to try and make this work or are we going back to pretending that it doesn't mean a thing?"

"After what you did for me tonight. I wouldn't want to think of you in any other way than less than a boyfriend. It'd be nice to have someone I know is worth my time."

Y/n grins climbing over him to straddle him and picking up his bruised hand, inspecting the damage.

"I'm still sorry." Y/n states earning a head shake.

"Don't be. So far it's all working out in my favour."

"Ever the optimist when you've almost broken your fist on my ex's face."

"I'd break it entirely if I thought it needed to be done."

Y/n hums before she sighs leaning to the side to look around him and check the time.

"I think it might be a good time to get ourselves to bed." Y/n smiles earning a grin from the F1 driver. "It's a good thing you have a couple more weeks till you are back in the car. Or I might actually need to worry for my safety when it comes to McLaren employees trying to snipe me down or something."

"It's bruised, nothing is broken so I'm fine." Lando smiles then raising his bruised hand up to her throat, feeling her pulse thrumming under his touch before he pulls her down into a kiss that really feels long overdue and as if a jigsaw piece has just fallen into place.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos

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atanx · 2 months

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James Somerton's "A Measured Response": A Measured Response

so I watched a reupload of the video because idk i like to torture myself. and i took a bunch of notes:

“I tried to be a voice for every member of the queer community, but that was a failed endeavour before it even started.”

what a strange way to say ‘I tried making it seem like I’m the only queer creator and stole from and actively harmed people in the queer community. knowingly. purposefully. and when I was called out in the past I tried to hide it.'

“I'm a cis, white, gay man. No matter how much I try to be a good spokesperson, I can never really, truly, understand the life experiences of other, far more put upon, members of the queer community.”

so of course I stole and hid work from the people I can't understand, gutting it of their personal experiences and refused to redirect my audience to those people so that they can enrich themselves and hear about issues pertaining them from someone who actually does understand.

“...one of the reasons I used their own words. But I should have made it clear that that was what I was doing.”

BITCH YOU STOLE. YOU GUTTED THEIR STORIES OF MEANINGFUL PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. YOU WEREN'T USING THEIR WORDS TO BE ABLE TO TALK ABOUT THINGS YOU CAN'T ENTIRELY UNDERSTAND YOU WERE MILKING THEM FOR CONTENT AND DEPRIVING PEOPLE OF ACTUAL, SOULFUL, MEANINGFUL ARTICLES AND BOOKS AND DOCUMENTARIES AND VIDEOS THEY COULD HAVE BEEN WATCHING INSTEAD.

“Being a cis white man I thought I might win over some people who otherwise wouldn't listen.”

Yeah sure. Because racist transphobes are going to be watching your badly plagiarised gay film analysis.

“I would also like to apologise to Jessie Gender, who is one of the kindest people I ever met. Through my hot-headedness, I drew her into this anger spiral.”

‘through my hotheadedness.’. shirking responsibility onto an ‘ingrained personality trait of yours’ I see.

if you are so honestly sorry for being an asshole to Jessie why don't you fucking apologise to her directly? privately? not as a way to boost your own fucking image??

he's trying to earn good will by complimenting Jessie Gender “oh he knows to compliment an awesome person we have that in common I guess he can't be so bad after all” fuck you I recognise your strategies and it's gross to drag Jessie into this like that, she spoke out against you and you are trying to imply some sort of friendship or something between you. okay I cannot UNDERSTATE the way he tries to make it seem like they are close in some way and sort of drag her onto his side that's so fucking despicable. as far as I know Jessie Gender does not have a relationship with him of any kind?

once again bringing up death threats I see. obviously death threats are shite and anyone who threatens the dude in seriousness or harasses him will not see the light of heaven as Hbomberguy said but IN AN APOLOGY YOU DO NOT MAKE IT ABOUT YOU THAT'S MANIPULATION

also blaming the police for not clarifying a situation in a timely manner - the police are a flaming pile of garbage and I hope the institution explodes but NOT SAYING ANYTHING WAS YOUR CHOICE. THE POLICE DIDN'T MAKE YOU DO SHIT THERE

the problem isn't that you tried to “create a channel where all queer people could be safe”, the problem is that 1) you are a misogynist 2) you yourself engaged in transphobic behaviour and 3) you also actively supressed queer people's voices. The problem isn't that you supposedly wanted a space for all queer people, the problem is that you tried to MONOPOLISE queer literature analysis. fuck, queer doesn't look like a word anymore I've written it too many times now

(paraphrased) “I should have been helping with making queer people's voices discoverable” this makes it seem like he just didn't do anything and not like the reality that he was actively trying to rewrite history and bury LQBTQIA+ voices under his steaming pile of garbage

also BLAMING YOUTUBE AND THE ALGORITHM FOR ‘PUSHING HIM’ because he's cis and white, like maybe they did, I certainly wouldn't be surprised, but that is not why other creators suffered, a large part of that can be attributed to James Somerton stealing their work without any acknowledgement whatsoever apart maybe if they are lucky, a “based on” in the credits or their name flashing on screen for half a second.

“I should have done more to share the voices of other queer people” THAT IMPLIES YOU DID SOMETHING. YOU WERE ACTIVELY WORKING AGAINST THAT YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT-

“it was just my dweam to be a youtubew and when my videos gained twaction i felt pwessuwed to make mowe vewy quickly and that's why they wewe so shit uwu” fuck off you weren't pressured into shit you just wanted to make money and that's why you were a content mill

“early on I thought that crediting authors in the opening credits alone was enough” what about the times YOU DIDN'T EVEN DO THAT??? YOU'RE MAKING THIS SEEM LIKE THE DRAMA IS ABOUT YOU CREDITING PEOPLE WRONG WHEN ITS ABOUT YOUR SYSTEMATIC THEFT AND OPPRESSION OF THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE VIDEOS FOR AND ABOUT AND THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE A SAFE SPACE FOR. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WATCHES YOUR VIDEOS?? WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID YOU CAN'T JUST PLAY IT DOWN

not him using Hbomberguy's example of the DEEP CUTS: SOCIETY AND QUEER HORROR video and claiming he credited all people in the opening scene when Hbomberguy highlighted he DIDNT EVEN CREDIT MOST OF THEM FUCK OFF ARE YOU DELUSIONAL HOW DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

I think I'm going insane this all seems so blatantly fake. he brings up the evil queens video and how he asked Sean Griffin, retroactively, permission to include his work in the video. and he shows a ‘screenshot’ of an email Griffin allegedly wrote to thank him for putting him in the title-card and that he thinks it is ‘a very thoughtful video’. only the text of the email header, such as Griffin's name, the RE:, and the To: is a lot smaller than the ‘text’ in the email, which leads me to believe that the below text is edited in some way. And with how hard James is trying to rewrite history, it wouldn't surprise me if he literally rewrote the email or cut things out to present himself in a more positive light. obviously I can't prove that the email is fake but I'll just say that I think the likelihood is very high that it is.

the way he says this also implies that he asked for permission after he made the video but hadn't published it yet. which is also blatantly false.

again trying to waltz off responsibility on nick, saying he was much more interested in production and implying that nick did all the writing .

“nick and I had both grown up poor so when I lost my job in 2021 (approx.) we of course were desperate and turned to producing videos even quicker and plagiarising the fuck out of all of them! but we can't help it we were both poor as kids!” fuck off, you weren't poor when plagiarising every-fucking-thing, this was in “the second year of COVID”. obviously if they really did grow up poor that sucks, and that's why we should eat the rich and redistribute their money. not plagiarise people who partly are poor or not financially cushy and manipulate thousands of people into believing you are the only queer creator.

also milking his mom's cancer. if you were really that worried about your financial situation, one would think that you would get an actual job for security and not put everything into your youtube career that is unstable, especially considering you've already done a lot of plagiarism and have no intention of stopping. “oh I plagiarised because my mom had cancer QAQ” that is so digusting to use a person's medical condition like that.

“i have memory issues because of a head injury i suffered as a child and that's why I plagiarise badly. see, I copy pasted the text with the intention to rephrase it later but forgot.” that would still be fucking plagiarism if he'd done that, also, if he's so aware of his memory issues and how they lead to him plagiarising, why didn't he try to work around that? leave himself notes? or tell nick to remind him to integrate actual proper credit and citations before uploading a video? mark the plagiarised stuff in the document with like highlighter or so when you're pasting it in?? oh but he didn't do all of that because he has ADHD. now, ADHD can be debilitating, but he says it's recently diagnosed so it must not have caused a lot of problems for him so far, so it's probably not severe and even if it is, it doesn't excuse him not crediting people properly. stop fucking hiding behind things ‘you can’t change' because if you truly can't you probably shouldn't be doing this in the first place.

“my mom really wanted me to make a movie with her life insurance but that wasn't paid out so I decided to crowdfund it. i planned to underpay the actors so hard it was under union wages. we got more money than we were expecting and upgraded to wanting to film a feature (final girl) but i didn't want to start working on it until the campaign was over for some reason that totally isn't me just wanting to exploit people for money!”

I'm not gonna go into the Telos stuff but he tries to explain it by claiming it was very unorganised and that's why they constantly ran into issues and that's why nothing ever got done and they were JUST about to start doing stuff when the Hbomberguy video released. You know what, I can believe it, although I am very doubtful considering all James ever does is lie. Idk.

once again trying to excuse his plagiarism with needing to pay two rents and thus needing to make more videos for more sponsors and not having the time to not plagiarise like please. i don't believe that they were in that dire need of money and if they were - just get a fucking stable job and put youtube on the backburner.

also once again trying to make it all about him by once again talking about his suicide attempt and death threats. like. no one should suffer through that kind of mental anguish but honestly I cannot bring myself to feel sympathy for this man. and i see this as an attempt to gather pity points.

“nick worked very hard on these videos other three years and it's unfair to [them] (james says that they're non-binary but doesn't indicate their pronouns anywhere? and in the beginning he uses they/them but later only he/him so idk what their pronouns are but it seems like they/them is at least part of their pronouns so i'm just going to use that) that they all got taken down” well y'all shouldn't have fucking plagiarised then. let this be a lesson maybe and don't fucking show your face on youtube again!

he is fucking relaunching his channel. like james. this isn't something you come back from. no one will ever be able to trust you ever again and you don't deserve an audience. he claims all the revenue will go to Hbomberguy's fund but we have no way to verify this. we have no way to know just how much he makes and how much of that is actually going to the fund. i don't trust him with any money. which is why i watched a reupload rather than the original. he's also releasing a new video he claims is entirely by him. like?????? don't???????

he also might not relaunch his existing patreon but he's still making a new one.

he claims he will “work his ass off” to make non-plagiarised videos. like that isn't “working your ass off” that's the bare fucking minimum. I really want to trust him. and I want to believe he'll actually try to do better. and maybe he will. and i believe in second chances, even for someone as despicable as him. but throughout this video he has continuously tried to play down what he did. tried to make excuses for everything. and that's why i am not going to give him a second chance. if he can't even admit what he did i don't trust him to not do it again. and i also just plainly don't want to endorse a person making such arguments.

also, he plugs his fucking new patreon right after this.

“this video is not about me promoting myself. it's about me apologising.” the only fucking person you actually ‘apologised’ to is Jessie Gender.

James Somerton: makes a billion fucking excuses. Also James Somerton: “These are not excuses. There is no excuse for what I did.”

this entire video was just a publicity stunt. he tries to humanise himself and repair his image. this is just a tool to be able to continue on and continue making money.

he also still claims the disney video was based on the Celluloid Closet and he credited the author and ignores that this wasn't the only author he fucking plagiarised in that video. he is trying to reduce his plagiarsm to incorrect crediting and mistakes and that is disgusting.

the least he could have done was mention by name out loud every author he plagiarised and what work he plagiarised. not just say “uuuh i'm sorry to everyone I plagiarised QAQ”

#james somerton #hbomberguy #james somerton a measured response #atanx.txt

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slut4thebroken · 5 months

Text

All Work, No Play: hour two

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jackson Ripper × reader

Summary | Jackson makes it clear that he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

Warnings | NON CON 18+, sexual content, fingering, dubious consent, degradation, humiliation, choking, crying, breeding, unprotected sex, emotional manipulation, objectification, dehumanization, anal rape, no lube, spit as lube (don’t do that besties), spanking?, knife play, cutting, carving?, blood play, spitting lol, breeding

Words | 5.6 k

Notes | READ THE WARNINGS. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CHOOSE TO VIEW.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Hour one

“Push it out. Yeah, there you go.” He cooed, collecting his come on his fingers as if trickled out of you. When he deposited it onto your asshole, you stiffened.

“Jackson.” You warned, getting an incredibly painful slap on your ass in response.

“Relax. Like I said, I’m not completely cruel. I’ll prep you a bit first.”

“Jackson, no-” You whined, trying to lift yourself up onto shaky arms, but falling back down with a scream when he hit you again, this time on your clit.

“I’m more than happy to just get right to it, if that’s what you want.” He waited for your response, then continued with a scoff when you stayed silent.

He suddenly pushed his fingers in your cunt and your hips moved back to chase the pleasure when he pulled them away after only a few seconds. He dragged them up, teasing your other hole, and you tried your best to relax, but when the first one pushed in, your whole body tensed up.

“If you just relax it won’t hurt as much.”

No shit, you wanted to say. Instead you bit your lip and buried your head in the sheets, trying not to make any sounds. When the second finger pushed in, it forced a sharp breath out of your nose and you started to taste blood from how hard you were biting.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He groaned, then spat on your rim and you let out a choked moan, making him laugh under his breath. “Of course you like that.” When the third finger pushed in, you jolted and moved up the bed, but he grabbed your hip and roughly pulled you back, making sure not to move his hand so that the motion would bury his fingers even deeper. “Remember what I said. I’ll gladly fuck you right now. This is me being generous so I suggest you don’t abuse my kindness.”

“Jackson, please don’t.” You sobbed, head lifted just enough so your voice wasn’t muffled. “Please-” He all but punched his fingers inside you, making you cut off with a whimper.

“Jesus fucking christ.” He grumbled and you heard the sheets rustling as the bed shifted, then he was pushing your face down into the bed to muffle your sounds. “I’m trying to be nice but you just can’t quit the whining, can you?” You let out a strangled whimper and fisted the sheets until your fingers ached.

“You’re lucky I was your first rapist. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t give two shits about prep. But maybe that’s what you deserve.” He grabbed your hair and lifted your head, then leaned down so his lips brushed your ear, never stopping the movement of his fingers. “After all, no one wants a loose cocksleeve. So prepping you just seems a little counterintuitive don’t you think?” You let out a quiet sob as your eyes filled with tears once again.

“What do you say to me for being so generous?” He asked lowly, making you almost shiver. “If I don’t think you’re grateful then I’m not going to waste my time with this.”

“…Thank you.” You whispered.

“What was that?”

“T-thank you.” Your voice was barely a whimper now and when you squeezed your eyes shut, a tear rolled down your cheek. “Thank you.” He shoved your face back into the bed, then added another finger. He fucked you slowly, focusing mostly on spreading his fingers to hurry this up.

You’ve never felt this full before and the stretch was burning a little, but for some sick reason, you still wanted to come. You knew you wouldn’t be able to though, not like this.

“What do you think? You ready for my cock?” You wanted to say no, but at the same time, you just want to get it over with. “Yeah, I think you are.” He answered for you, removing his fingers then moving behind you again. He roughly flipped you over and you turned your head to the side, not wanting to look at him.

“I’ll let you choose. I can fuck your face and get a little more lube on my cock, or I’ll just fuck your ass right now.” You glanced down at his length nervously. It was completely dry and you knew that the small amount of spit he just used wouldn’t be enough.

“Fine.” You said quietly, making him chuckle.

“You know that’s not good enough.”

“Please fuck— please fuck my… my face.” You choked out as your whole face got warm.

“With pleasure.” He manhandled you so that your head was hanging off the edge, then placed your arms on your stomach and pinned them there with one hand. “Open.” He commanded. You tentatively let your mouth drop open and he wasted no time sliding inside. “If I feel any teeth, I’ll break your jaw. Do you understand?” You shuddered, but hummed in acknowledgment, not able to speak.

He didn’t even start slow to let you get used to it. He just started rutting against your face, the tip of his cock punching the back of your mouth with each thrust. You gagged and choked, body writhing on the bed, but his grip was unmoving.

“I said no,” a sharp smack on your clit had you crying out, “fucking,” the second one brought tears to your eyes, “teeth.” You sobbed around his length on the third slap, your clit burning now, but what made it worse was the fact that it made you want to come even more.

He didn’t bother keeping this up for long though. After only a few moments, his pace slowed a little.

“This is your only warning.” He said and you furrowed your brows in confusion. On the next thrust, he remained buried in your mouth, then pushed against the resistance until he breached your throat barrier. The whimper that escaped you barely made any sound and he let out a low groan as his free hand settled on your neck, pressing on where his cock was bulging your throat.

You were starting to panic now and with him buried this deep, his balls were resting on your nose, not letting you get any air in. You tried turning your head to the side but you could barely move. When he pulled out, you took in a huge breath and started coughing, on the verge of tears from the rough treatment.

“Open.” You whimpered and shook your head, making him grip your throat. “Open.” He growled and you let out a choked sob, but parted your trembling lips. He didn’t wait for you to open all the way before pushing inside again. He resumed the fast pace and it was almost as if he was purposefully trying to breach your throat barrier with each thrust, that’s how forceful he was being. With how much you were coughing and sputtering, spit was escaping your lips, trailing up your face, adding to your humiliation.

“I know...” He said softly as you thrashed in his hold. “You can take it.” You whimpered in response and tried to shake your head. His thrusts slowed to a rocking motion, going down your throat each time. Through your crying and the intrusion in your mouth, it was almost impossible to breathe and your head was starting to feel heavy from being upside down for so long.

“I’m doing this for you, remember? I’m doing this because you wanted me to— because you begged me to.” You tried to free your arms so you could push him away but he just tightened his grip and pressed them harder into your stomach. He pushed all the way in and froze, keeping your head still against the edge of the bed. His fingers brushed over the column of your throat again, then he wrapped his hand around your neck and started stroking, stimulating his cock from the outside too. He let out a low moan, leisurely rutting his hips, but still staying buried deep.

You were panicking even more now because it felt like you were about to pass out any second. Your lungs burned and you were practically dry heaving with how much you were gagging, but he ignored you, continuing this for a few more seconds before pulling out. Immediately after he released your arms and stepped back, you rolled over on your stomach and coughed almost violently, watching a trail of saliva fall from your lips.

“If you throw up, I’m not paying for the extra cleaning fee.” He said, sounding almost bored. You closed your eyes as you panted, trying to catch your breath. “Do you need some water?” He sneered and you wanted to tell him to fuck off, insult him, anything… but you’re just so tired. You just want this to be over already.

“How do you want me?” You asked quietly as you rose to a seated position.

“Who said I was done fucking your mouth?”

“Please, no more.” You whimpered, keeping your eyes on the floor. He stepped forward and grabbed your cheeks in one hand, making you whimper and try to flinch away. He just tightened his grip before tilting your head up to face him.

“Did you finally break?” He cooed, so sweetly that for a second you almost didn’t realize he was mocking you. When you stayed silent, he continued. “I must say, you lasted longer than I expected.”

“Please stop tormenting me and just do it.” You whispered, making him click his tongue and shake his head in disagreement.

“How am I tormenting you?” He asked softly— innocently. He tilted his head slightly to emphasize the question and you tried to figure out how to put it into words.

“Please just do it.” You decided to say instead. He pursed his lips and nodded slowly as he thought.

“You think after I fuck your ass, we’re done.” He realized, making you nervous. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to mislead you.” Closing your eyes, you let out a choked sob, trying to hold in the tears. “I have this room until 11 a.m. tomorrow, we have all night.”

“Jackson, please..” You cried, feeling bile rise in your throat at the thought of what he could do in that amount of time. “I— I gave you what you wanted. Please just let me go.” You said quietly. He let out a heavy breath through his nose, then released your face.

“I can’t do that yet.”

“Why not?” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling.

“Because I’m not done with you.” When you let out a broken sob, he cooed and gently cupped your cheek as he shushed you. “You know how I feel about the crying.” He said softly, but you still knew it was a warning.

“How am I supposed to not cry right now?” You whimpered, sounding just pathetic enough to not set him off.

“You’re a big girl, I’m sure you can figure it out.” He lightly slapped your cheek, making you flinch. “On your stomach.” You bit your quivering lip and hesitated for only a moment before obeying.

“How about we play a little game?” He kneeled over your legs and you craned your head back so you could see him. When he reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a switchblade, you visibly jumped as it opened. “Since I couldn’t trust you to shut up before… everytime I hear a noise, you bleed.” Your eyes widened and your heart dropped into your stomach.

“What?” You said through a breath, trying not to start hyperventilating.

“Relax. It’ll just be a small cut. And besides, if you can resist moaning while being raped, then I won’t ever need to use this.” He waved the blade around teasingly and you frowned. When he realized you weren’t going to respond, he used his free hand to pull your ass cheeks apart, then spat on your hole.

“Jackson— Jackson, wait,” You whimpered, reaching behind yourself to try and push him away.

“The game starts now.” You had no reason to not believe him. So you bit your lip and buried your face in the sheets, making him reach forward and roughly yank you back up by your hair. “No cheating.” You let out a shaky breath through your nose, trying to calm down. When he let go of your hair, you kept your head up. “Good girl.”

You took in a sharp breath at the feeling of his cock against your ass. He applied some pressure and you stiffened, waiting for the pain you knew you were about to feel. When he finally breached your hole, you screamed and tried to move up the bed, letting out a violent sob when you felt the sharp sting on your ass. It quickly turned into a deep throbbing and you let your head fall forward as you clung to the sheets, trying to ground yourself. You did your best to silence your cries, the only sounds being shaky breaths and quiet whimpers that were mostly muffled by the bed.

“Gonna be quiet now?” You weren't sure if you were allowed to answer verbally, but you tried anyway.

“Please, I- I can’t.”

“You can. Either voluntarily or involuntarily, but I’d rather not have to clean up a big mess and I’m sure you’d prefer to keep your tongue.” You let out a strangled whimper, your sobs intensifying. “So— We’re going to keep playing the game. I’ll only cut you four more times, after that I’ll move on to something more permanent. Understand?”

“Jackson, please.” You whined, trying not to focus on the sharp pain in your hole and on your ass.

“If you’re not going to answer a simple fucking question, maybe I’ll cut it out anyway.”

“No! No- I’m sorry. I’ll try but— I really don’t think I can.” You whimpered. “I’m not just saying that. I genuinely don’t think I can do it.” You added, when he didn’t respond.

“Fine. I’ll give you a choice.” Your stomach churned just thinking about what he would say. “Either we continue the game— four more warning cuts before I shut you up for good— or I carve my name and you don’t have to worry about staying completely silent.” There’s not a chance in hell you’ll be able to take that much pain with him cutting his entire name. You’ll probably throw up or pass out or both. But you also don’t think you’ll be able to stay silent— not with his cock splitting you open like this.

“Tick tock.” He singsonged, dragging the tip of the knife over your ass.

“The— the first one.” You said quietly. He let out a disappointed hum and lifted the knife off your skin.

“Not what I would’ve picked but I guess I should honor my word.” While you waited, you took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. “Starting now.” He immediately continued pushing in the rest of the way, only stopping when he was buried to the hilt inside you. Your eyes widened and you placed a hand over your mouth, swallowing down a whimper as you breathed heavily through your nose.

“Atta girl. Stay nice and quiet.” He slowly pulled back, then pushed in a little faster, continuing that rhythm. Your eyes burned as you tried not to cry, but it hurt. He’s big and didn’t use lube and barely prepped you— not to mention the fact that you rarely do anal.

“Since I’m so nice, I’m gonna give you a warning; I’m speeding up now.” You choked on a moan after the first hard thrust, then whimpered at the sharp sting on your ass, this time on your other cheek. “Stop whining. I did warn you, it’s not my fault you didn’t listen.”

His thrusts only got harder and faster. You slipped up on a particularly brutal one and he went back to your other ass cheek— that was when the tears started falling again. You pressed your hand harder against your mouth and squeezed your eyes shut, but his movements only got rougher and you slipped up again.

Doing your best to stay quiet, you kept repeating to yourself that you only have one more chance, but this felt impossible. How can he expect you to be completely quiet during something like this? Especially when he’s cutting you too.

You tried to cry silently, but when a sob accidentally came out, your heart dropped. You winced at the sting of another cut, then started babbling out pleas and apologies.

“Please— it was an accident. Please, I’m sorry.” You whimpered. He let out a heavy sigh and his hips slowed to a stop.

“It’s okay, baby. Make all the noise you want.”

“What?” You asked quietly, taking in a sharp breath when he pulled all the way out. He got off of the bed and you turned your head to watch him with furrowed brows.

“Stay.” He ordered, pointing the knife at you. You obeyed and he walked over to grab your dress, then laid it down next to you on the bed. “On your back, ass on your dress.” You tentatively turned over and sat on the dress, but immediately turned back onto your stomach with a hiss of pain.

“It hurts.” You frowned.

“It’s gonna hurt a whole lot more if you don’t do what I say.” He raised his brows and you whined quietly, but got onto your back again. It was less painful laying down, but the pressure still hurt. “Good girl. You keep following those survival instincts and you might just make it out of this alive.” It sounded like he was joking… but you were also pretty sure that he was being completely serious.

Moving to the foot of the bed, he grabbed your ankles and roughly pulled you down, making you cry out as the pain on your ass flared up. He quickly undressed and you tried not to stare at his body too much— you didn’t want to give him another reason to mock you. When he got on the bed again and started moving toward your head, you suddenly realized what was happening.

“No,” You whimpered, shaking your head.

“What happened to those instincts? I mean, seriously, who says no to the person holding them at knife point?” He chuckled. Your eyes shifted to the weapon still in his hand.

“Please don’t.” You tried again.

“Getting warmer.” He said teasingly. “I’ll give you a hint; drop a word, then you’ll get it.” You frowned and shook your head, biting your lip. He laughed quietly and kept moving until he was behind your head. When you tried to sit up, he blocked your path with the knife, making you stiffen, but fall back down.

“Final warning. I’m done fucking your ass and your cunt for now— Either open your mouth or I’ll make a hole somewhere else and fuck that instead.” Your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat. He had to be bluffing… right? “Trust me when I tell you I’ve done worse.” Okay maybe he’s not bluffing…

“Will you just— not do it like before please? I almost threw up.” You said quietly, too scared to speak any louder.

“Why exactly should I do that? All you’ve done is make things harder for me.”

“I- I’m sorry… I’ll behave, I promise.” He raised his brows, seemingly not believing you, making you try harder. “Please, Jackson.”

“We’ll see. Arms above your head.” You frowned, but obeyed, and he straddled your arms, pinning them to the bed with his legs. “I feel any teeth, you’ll need stitches. Understand?” You glanced nervously between his cock and the knife.

“Yes.” You whispered. He positioned himself over your face and you opened your mouth, waiting, trying not to think about where his cock just was. He placed it inside and you closed your lips as he slowly pushed in deeper. When he met the resistance of your throat, he stopped, then slowly pulled back, making you all but sigh in relief. He only fucked you a few more times before pushing in and staying there, the tip brushing the back of your mouth.

“Remember what I said about teeth.” You were confused about why he said that because you were pretty sure your teeth hadn't touched him at all.

Pain erupted through your chest and you almost thought you imagined it, but when it turned into a white hot burning sensation, you knew you hadn’t. You screamed around him and tried to move your arms out from under his legs. When that was unsuccessful, you started thrashing and he smacked your clit, making you cry out.

“If you keep moving, I’ll have to start over.” Your chest went from a deep throbbing to the sharp pain again and you let out a broken sob, your eyes burning as they filled with tears.

With the pain, his cock in your mouth, and the way you were hyperventilating, you felt like you were going to pass out again. You welcomed it though— you prayed you wouldn’t have to endure this any longer.

But you didn’t. You remained conscious, your lungs burning along with your chest. You wanted to bite him— to do anything to get him to stop— but you had no reason to believe that he wouldn’t follow through on his threat. Not with the way he was so easily cutting you and ignoring your cries.

Your sounds alternated between screams and violent sobs and after a few seconds of that, he huffed, then pushed in deeper. You choked on the sudden intrusion in your throat and he let out a low groan, continuing with whatever it was he was carving on your body. When you tried to scream, only a garbled whimper came out.

“Be as loud as you want. No consequences this time.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Now that he was fully sheathed in your mouth, his balls rested against your nose, limiting your breathing even more. It was getting harder to tell if the nausea was because of the constant pressure on your gag reflex, or from the pain.

He finally stopped, then pulled out of your mouth not long after. You coughed at first, but quickly resumed crying.

“God— will you shut up?” He reached out and you flinched away from him, squeezing your eyes shut. “Oh you poor thing.” He cooed, cupping your cheek. You jerked away from his touch and your sobs intensified. “You must be so scared. It’s okay, it’s over now.” He said softly, moving his hand to pet your hair.

“That means stop crying.” His voice was significantly more harsh and you couldn’t help it when you cried even harder. “Jesus..” He muttered. You felt the bed move, then heard his footsteps, but you didn’t dare change your position. His hands suddenly wrapped around your ankles and he yanked you even farther down the bed, making a sob catch in your throat as your eyes snapped open. You stared at his blurry figure, watching him wrap your legs around his body, lining his cock up with one of your holes— you weren’t sure which one. When you looked down and saw the jagged lines, you let out a broken whimper that turned into a mewl when he pushed inside your cunt.

“I know… But don’t you just look so much prettier branded with my initials?” Squeezing your eyes shut, you continued crying, feeling too overwhelmed now that you felt full. “I couldn’t cut too deep because of the mess, but I think I cut deep enough to leave a scar.” He said proudly and a strangled sob left you, making him chuckle. “You may be crying but we both know you like that. Why else would your cunt have squeezed my cock so hard?”

You shook your head with a whimper. Sure you’ve read about this kind of stuff and fantasized about it, but you never wanted it to actually happen. You never wanted any of this to actually happen. Maybe this was karma for reading so many fucked up books— the universe’s way of punishing you for liking it.

He started fucking you, bringing you out of your thoughts. And the overwhelming pain was starting to compete with the overwhelming pleasure.

“I know I said I’d keep my word, but technically I never said what I’d do after our little game. Plus, you should probably be branded anyway if you’re going to be breeding stock for sale, right?” You don’t know how he was able to say something like that so casually.

“No..” You whimpered, shaking your head.

“No? Why not?” He asked innocently, tilting his head a little. His thrusts never faltered through your conversation though.

“Please.” You whined, feeling another wave of tears approach. “Please— I‘m sorry…”

“But you’d look so pretty with your belly nice and full.”

“Please, Jackson.” You cried.

“Shh. Don’t talk back.” He presented the knife that you didn’t realize was still in his hand and your stomach dropped as the throbbing in your chest flared up at the reminder of what just happened. “Can’t believe you’re this scared of a tiny little knife.” Technically you’re scared of the knife in his hands… you didn’t say that though.

He moved the blade down to trail the tip over your inner thigh, making you tense up. He let out a low groan as his hips stuttered for just a moment before he resumed the steady pace.

“I’d put the knife down and focus on fucking you, but your cunt gets so tight when I do this.” He moved to your other thigh and did the same thing, lightly dragging it up the soft skin, leaving a pink line behind. “You can’t really blame me can you?” He chuckled. You stayed perfectly still, not wanting to be cut again. You were barely even able to focus on his words.

“But if you really hate it so much, I guess I can think of another way to get your pathetic little pussy to squeeze my cock.” He removed the knife and set it on the bed before grabbing your hips to help control his thrusts. “Rub your clit.” He ordered. You shook your head, not wanting to be forced to do something that would actually help you enjoy this.

“Seriously?” He scoffed a laugh. “Your options are that or the knife and you’re saying no?” He asked in disbelief, making you frown. Your gaze shifted to the knife on the bed next to you and you swallowed down a whimper as you slowly reached your hand between your legs. “There you go.” He cooed when your fingers met your clit. “I doubt I need to tell you what will happen if I’m not satisfied with your effort?”

“No…” You muttered, rubbing your clit harder and faster because of his warning.

“Good girl. Make that pussy milk my fucking cock.” He groaned and you flushed at the vulgarity of his words as thrusts sped up, rapidly pounding your hole. Your tits were moving embarrassingly, but that feeling wasn’t as prominent as the pain on your chest when the skin stretched with each thrust.

Despite your revulsion for him and his current actions, you wanted to get close. You wanted your brain to stop focusing on all of the mental and physical pain and just let you forget— if only for a few seconds. You just needed a break— from crying and screaming and the aching and throbbing, and from him.

“You’re awfully quiet.” He noticed.

“I thought you wanted me to stop crying.” Your voice was raspier than you’d ever heard it. Based on his expression though, your tone clearly didn’t sound the way you meant it to; small and obedient.

“What’d I say about talking back, huh?”

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just… wanted to make sure that I was still doing what you wanted.” You said quietly, fear blooming in your chest once again.

“That would’ve been a good save if you didn’t add on the obvious lie.”

“I wasn’t— I wasn’t lying…” You whimpered, making him scoff.

“I don’t believe you but I’m close enough that I don’t care right now.” You all but breathed a sigh of relief. “Faster.” He ordered, so you sped up your fingers, your breath hitching at the slightly more intense pleasure. The cuts on your ass and chest have dulled now, mostly overshadowed by his cock ramming into you and your fingers stimulating your clit. You bit your lip to try and stifle your moans, but there was no chance— you’re too tired to put all of your energy into something as pointless as that.

Even though your body was begging for an orgasm, your mind couldn’t let yourself do that, not after what he just did to you. But his cock was hitting that perfect spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back into your head and your fingers were working even harder, voluntarily. You were solely relying on him coming before you had a chance to, but with how rapidly you were approaching the edge, you weren’t sure that’d happen.

“Look at you… Are you close?” He cooed and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. “No? It seems like you are.” He said teasingly.

“Fuck— please just come.” You choked out, gripping the sheets with your free hand as your chest heaved.

“Poor thing. You can’t hold it, can you?” His voice was still laced with the patronizing, sweet tone. You whimpered and kept your eyes squeezed shut, trying not to give in to the pleasure. “Maybe I should finally give you what you want.”

“No.” You said quickly, back arching a little as a low moan escaped you.

“But you were crying and begging for it earlier. What changed, hm?” You let out a choked sob and turned your head to the side even though your eyes were already closed. “You worried it'll make you have to admit to yourself that you liked it? That you liked me raping your ass and carving my initials into you?”

“Stop,” You whimpered.

“No. You’re going to come and if you stop rubbing your clit, I’ll cut off those fingers. Understand?”

“Jackson…” You sobbed out, unable to say anything else.

“Do you understand?” He repeated, his tone making you shiver.

“Y-yes.” You whispered. His pace became even faster and harder somehow, almost punching the breath out of you with each thrust. When you could feel yourself on the edge, you let out a choked sob, trying— uselessly— to bring yourself back down.

“I think you need a reminder of what made you come.” He said suddenly. Your moan cut off into a cry when he ran two fingers over his initials and you opened your eyes just in time to see him shove them in your mouth. You gagged at the coppery taste, then again when he forced them to the back of your mouth, purposefully pushing down on your tongue to make you gag. “Suck.” He ordered. You did your best to shake your head with the intrusion in your mouth, letting out a garbled whimper when you could barely move. “Now.” He forced them in impossibly deeper, making you choke and bring your hand up to claw at his arm.

“Fine.” He removed his fingers and you gasped in a breath, trying not to throw up at the taste of your own blood lingering on your tongue. You let out a broken sob when he swiped his fingers over the wound again, this time using more pressure and staying there longer. When he finally removed them, he immediately brought his hand up to wipe across your lips and cheek. You cringed at the mixture of your own saliva and blood, and kept your lips tightly sealed so you couldn’t taste any.

He moved his hand to your neck, squeezing hard enough to make you choke and gasp for air. Leaning down over you with a dark look in his eyes, he spat on your already messy face, and you let out a choked moan, making him push down on your windpipe to cut off the sound.

The knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped and if he wasn’t preventing you from making any noise, your sounds would’ve been almost anguished moans. Instead, all you could let out was a quiet wheeze. Because of all of the build up, your orgasm hit you hard, making your body shake as your crying picked up again.

Even after you finished, he kept his hand firmly on your throat, desperately bucking his hips into you, chasing his own orgasm now. Your hand slowed to a stop but you were too tired to move it anywhere else, so it remained trapped between your bodies. Just as your eyes started growing heavy and your head felt light and dizzy, he buried himself to the hilt with a low groan, putting his face in the crook of your neck. You could faintly hear his moans and feel hot come filling you up, but it was hard to focus on anything other than your inability to breathe and the feeling of losing consciousness.

He suddenly loosened his grip and you wheezed in a breath, coughing and trying to gasp in air as your head rushed with the sudden blood flow. He panted for a moment, then leaned back up and pulled out, making you hiss because of how sensitive you were.

Hour three

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @cillianscrybaby @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @aurorag98

#jackson rippner x reader smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner #red eye movie #red eye

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monimccoythings · 1 month

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Human!Alastor x Daughter!Reader: Devotion

These are all part of the same AU, I suppose, or not. But I like to think they are all part of the same AU, sometimes I forget what I write. Now this are just some deranged feelings and thoughts of Alive!Alastor.

Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason.

Tw: obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, mentions of blood, implied murder, manipulation.

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Alastor had never been a sentimental man. Of course he loved his mama, she was a wonderful woman and her death had definitely caused him a great amount of grief.

And then you came along.

Your soft skin, your chubby hands that tried to grasp his larger fingers to no avail, your wide unfocused eyes that darted everywhere, taking notice of everything. How delicate you felt in his arms, you fit perfectly, like you were made to be there.

How easily he could break you, he ponders. One little snap and there would be no more of you. It would be so quick and simple. There was only one little thing.

He adored you.

Your quiet little coos, your incomprehensible babbling that sounded like you were trying to carry an adult conversation with him, the way you squealed with joy whenever one of your favorite songs started playing on the radio. You were delightful, and provided him with more enrichment than any of the bumbling fools he usually associated himself with could provide.

As years passed by, you started to get bigger, your world expanding, your knowledge growing. And with it, came the risk of having you slip away from him.

He had modeled you to be his perfect little angel, his little fawn. His obedient child. He would not allow anyone to take you away from him. He was your guardian, your protector. Some asshole looked at you the wrong way while you two were going on a walk? He was never heard of again. Some low-paid teacher was becoming some sort of role model to you? Ooops! Accidents happen!

He found that his reasoning for protecting you was also a good excuse to indulge in his darkest desires. A way to calm the itch that was always nagging at the back of his head.

Alastor did it for you. He was making the world a safer place for you. No matter how much fun and enjoyment he got out of it. None of those buffoons would ever taint your innocence with their dirty souls. Not even himself.

He would take his secrets to the grave, always hidden behind a wide smile. he would be the good father, the charming radio host, the modelic citizen. The blood in his hands, as delicious as it tasted, would never stain your clothes.

No one would keep you two apart, he would make sure of that. He was all that you could possibly ever need. Your world started and ended with him, as it should be. Let him be the barrier between your purity and the rotten society that lurked outside.

He suffered everytime you were forced to spend time apart of each other. Couldn't you see it? Did you feel it too? Whenever you were in school or he was working, it was complete suffering for him! His fingers drumming impatiently on the surface of the table, counting the seconds until he was back at home with you. Only the mental stimulation that took directing, writing and starrring in his own radio show for which he held great passion and the delightful hunt his side job provided were enough distraction to cope with his sorrow.

When did he become so emotional? He should be feeling embarrassed of himself or at least be very thankful that his mask of sanity wasn't cracking with all those feelings. Instead, he found himself embracing them. He embraced the painful worry about your wellbeing and his influence over you, the obssessive and twisted love he felt, the need for control, to ensure you remained his innocent and good child, and the bitter despair at your absence that sunk into his heart like a knife. Only his little baby could give him such a rush.

He was sure that not even death would be able to take you from his hands. He would personally fight God, the Devil, and anybody who got in his way. Alastor would tear the fabric of reality apart just to get to you.

You would never run away from him. There was no reason to, as he had made you as devoted of him as he was of you. Or at least he hoped so.

Having you leave him would surely break his heart, as it would mean to Alastor that you had chosen to do things the hard way. But maybe, after a very detailed and complex planification on his part and some casualties orchestrated by him, Alastor might be able to convince you to return back home, with a grim reminder about the dangers of the outside world.

For there is no safer place on Earth than in your father's embrace.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #reader #alastor x reader #alastor #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: possessive behavior #tw: controlling behavior #hazbin hotel x reader

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fear-is-truth · 1 month

Text

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝒀 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑰𝑬

Part I / ?

pairing: kai anderson x fem!reader

summary: you are the key to his climb on the political ladder. and maybe something more.

warnings: sfw. talk of masturbation, kai being a creep. not throughly proofread + english is not my first language sorry

a/n: part 2 is pure filth, so here’s a bit of buildup i guess

𝜗ϱ

His gaze bore into you with an intensity that felt suffocating, twin tar pits of darkness that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. As if you were a lab specimen on a dissection table, waiting to be cut open and examined. Your stomach churned with nerves, knowing all too well the workings of this ritual. Kai had the ability to unearth your darkest secrets and wield them against you like a gun.

Unease prickled at the edges of your consciousness as you sank into the chair opposite Kai, his elbow resting on the table's hard surface. The solitary light overhead created a fucked-up, blue halo around his hair.

A slow smile spread across his lips as he extended his pinky toward you. With a resigned sigh, you reached out, locking your pinky with his, your elbow thudding softly against the table.

“First question,” Kai's voice flowed smooth and velvety, sending a shiver down your spine. You held your breath, bracing yourself for the interrogation.

“When you masturbate. Who do you think of?”

You stared at him stupidly. The question sounded so natural, rolling off his tongue. As if he were talking about the evening news.

“I- I, um..”

You wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and disappear, to escape this fucking creepy basement and his clinical scrutiny. Like always, Kai was ruthless. His face hardened.

“Answer the question, you know the rules.”

“You,” you confessed, cheeks burning with embarrassment. He simply nodded, as if he had been expecting that all along. Asshole.

“How much are you willing to do to help me with my cause?” Dark eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of hesitation.

“I'll do whatever it takes,” you answered, then added, “I would do anything for you.”

His gaze softened for a brief moment as he leaned back, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“Good girl,”

You basked in the validation in his words. You answered correctly, because you were a good girl. His good girl. Just as you began to relax, his next question was like a slap to the face, a kiss on the lips. It filled you with dread.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes. I do,”

The words coming out of your mouth made you feel like you’d ransomed your soul to the devil. Your blood ran cold, not because you lied; no, because you did love him, for some inexplicable reason beyond comprehension and better judgment, you truly loved Kai Anderson, as tainted and flawed as he was.

The true reason his question frightened you so much was that you knew what would come next— the last time he asked this same question during a pinky power, he had made you do something horrible. He had instructed you to murder someone. And like a good girl, you had done exactly what you were told.

You waited with bated breath, bracing yourself for the command to carry out another unspeakable crime. But instead of issuing another kill order, Kai shocked you by smiling softly, his eyes alight with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine.

“I love you too, so much,” he murmured, clasping your hand in his, leaning forward.

The softness of his lips and the warmth of his touch stirred something dangerous within you, a flicker of hope. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to entertain the possibility that this was real, that maybe, just maybe, there was some semblance of truth buried beneath his manipulation and deceit.

So you indulged yourself, kissing him back with fervor borne from desperation. Kai groaned against your lips, hand sliding further into your hair and kissing you with a focus that made your knees weak.

When you finally pulled away, Kai’s eyes snapped open and he groaned softly, this time with frustration. But he wasn’t mad at you, at least. Smiling ruefully, he brushed his thumb across your cheek,

“I wish you could be mine forever,”

“I can be,” you replied without hesitation, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. He beamed.

“Then let's make it official,”

“Huh?”

“I'm going to marry you,” he stated matter-of-factly, “Because you're strong, resilient, intelligent, and beautiful.. you’re everything I dreamed of having in a partner.”

Despite the warm fuzzy feeling spreading in your belly, you didn’t buy it. Not for a second, as much as you desperately wanted to believe it. With your pinkies still locked, you mustered the courage to ask,

“What is this really about?”

For a moment, he fell silent, his expression caught off guard by your boldness. Perhaps he was even a bit offended by the questioning of his motives. But then, the mask of calm slipped back into place.

“It's about us,” he began, words measured.

“Oh cut the bullshit, Kai. If I'm going to be in on this charade, I want to know what I’m getting myself into,”

A flash of annoyance crossed Kai's features like summer lighting before he quickly composed himself once again, the mask of calm slipping seamlessly back into place.

“Fine,” he gritted, “It's part of my strategy okay? Conservative voters don't take me seriously because I'm not 'family-oriented' enough. Marrying you, presenting a united front, we could change that perception.”

You weren’t surprised, not even mad or disappointed by his admission. You had suspected as much all along, but hearing it confirmed still left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Fine,” you echoed morosely. Now he was the one who looked surprised.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” With a tight-lipped smile, you pulled apart your locked fingers and stood up, the scraping sound of the chair against the floor was deafening in your ears.

“Thanks. You're my first choice, you know,” he added hastily, “I was hoping you’d say yes,”

You turned away before he could see the tears that had begun to form. A part of you wanted to believe him. Really did.

⟡ 𝓙: here’s a lil playlist to make up for the shitty writing

ılılı love the way you lie—eminem, rihanna ・i should hate you—gracie abrams・i know you—skylar grey

TAGLIST @acidbrainstorm @evanpetersmybf @alittlesil @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @baby-doll1989 @newwavesylviaplath @warrenpikasgirlfriend @violet1737 @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @kai-slut @imsoamazing26 @silence-in-the-silver-state @coentinim @doll3tt33 @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @babydollxxblood @stveharringtn

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exrellian · 2 months

Text

Replaced MC AU

Three parts in one day! This part gets a lot more serious and where the drama really starts!

TW: Descriptions of pain/burning, the brothers being assholes to MC, manipulation.

Could things get any worse?

The rest of the day came and went, MC just stayed in his room, holding the tears from overflowing. MC didn’t sleep a wink that night, instead deciding to clean his room and organize all his things… just in case. Luckily for him, Amelia must have spent the night in someone else’s room so he didn’t have to worry about being suspicious or having Amelia find where his valuables were.

When it become morning MC made his way to Lucifers room. Raising his hand to knock on the door, he stopped, hearing voices from inside.

“Don’t worry Amelia. We will make sure he will never hurt you again.”

“Please don’t be mean to him! I don’t think he is a bad person, he might just be jealous! You and your brothers seem to like me more so I can see why he is bothered!”

“That is no excuse for him to attack you and hurt your beautiful face. He will not bother you any more.”

‘Did someone attack Amelia? Was it a demon?’ The door opened, interrupting MCs thoughts, he was now face to face with an injured Amelia and angry Lucifer

“Hey, sorry for eavesdropping but was Amelia attacked? Are you okay Amelia?” He asked, inspecting the wounds littering her face, it looked like a pretty bad attack

“Don’t play dumb MC. Are you trying to completely ruin the exchange program?” Lucifers voice was filled with a poorly restrained rage, as if he was about to unleash “All of my brothers have told me of how mean you’ve been to Amelia and it is unacceptable.” He continued, pushing Amelia behind him as if to protect her

“What? I’ve been nothing but kind to Amelia! She is a human and I know how dangerous the Devildom is!” MC tried to defend himself, unsure why he is being blamed for the attack on Amelia when he hadn’t left his room all night

“Stop talking. Your excuses will not work on me. Now Amelia insists on not sending you back to the human world like I had originally intended, so, we will be separating the two of you for her safety and you will be staying at Purgatory hall for the time being, at least until you have learned how to be a decent human being. I have already discussed this arrangement with my brothers and lord Diavolo and we all agree this is the best course of action. Be better, MC”

MC walked back to their room in deafening silence, what was happening? Why was everyone turning against him?

Amelia’s POV

“Thank you Lucifer! I actually wanted to ask you and the brothers something at breakfast, but MC can’t be there so let’s get going!” She giggled, dragging Lucifer to the dining hall, him following with a small smile, what an adorable human.

When the two got to the dining hall the other six were already eating

“Everyone, Amelia has something she would like to ask so pay attention.” Lucifer drew all eyes to him and Amelia

“Where is MC?” Satan asked, growing more concerned when a chorus of scoffs and groans came from his brothers “What happened!? Is he okay?”

“He will not be living here anymore. He has crossed the line by attacking Amelia and has been moved to Purgatory hall, he is up packing his belongings this moment.” Lucifer explained, rolling his eyes at his younger brother

“What!? He attacked Amelia? He would have no reason to do that though, they have been getting along well and MC is absolutely not the type of person to attack someone without reason.” At this point Satan had stood from his seat and completely disregarded his book. “Has MC not saved this family on multiple occasions? Has he not sacrificed everything for us? Why are all of you suddenly turning on him!?”

“Satan. Sit down. The decision about MC has been made.” Lucifer scolded, his demon form emerging

“Satan… I also have faith in MC! I was the one who convinced Lucifer not to fully kick him out of the exchange program! Please Satan, just listen to what I have to ask” Amelia spoke, not breaking eye contact with Satan. Satan sighed and sat down, attention still on Amelia “please, I want all of you to do me a favor, break your pacts with MC.”

MCs POV

As he was packing his belongings into his bags, MC felt a scorching pain flowing through his body, like someone had replaced his blood with molten lava. He screamed in pain before collapsing to the ground, seeing the pact mark on the back of his hand burn and fade away

“Why… why did Satans pact mark… burn off?”

He had no clue what was happening, he couldn’t even think due to the pain coursing through his veins. After a few minutes the pain dissipated, leaving him with just an ache through his whole body as he lay on the ground, curled into a ball beside his bed. With that, the boy lost consciousness.

When he awoke, the pain was only faint.

“Oh dear, why are you on the ground? Have you really stooped so low you would do anything for attention?” A slightly feminine voice spoke from above him, looking up he locked eyes with Asmodeus

“Asmo… why did my pacts burn away? What… what happened?”

“Is this really ok because we broke our pacts with you? You being this dramatic for something as minuscule as that? Foolish human.” He scoffed at the boy on the ground before leaving the room.

‘They broke their pacts with me? But why? What did I do wrong?’

His mind was racing, he knew he had to finish packing and get out as fast as he could. That task seemed to be easier than expected, seeing as his side of the room was suddenly stripped empty, none of his belongings anywhere to be found, even his DDD which was previously in his pocket was missing.

MC wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what happened and that he had zero chance of getting any of it back. He had one more place to look, where he had previously hidden some spare change, just about 50 Grimm in case of emergency. He lifted his mattress of the bed frame and looked for the small tare in the fabric, finding the Grimm he had hidden… thank god they weren’t smart enough to check here.

He left the house in silence, noticing a note on the door that was addressed to him

“To; MC

I am extremely disappointed in your actions toward Amelia, it is shocking to see someone as kind as you give into your emotions so easily. I expected better from you. Due to the recent events you will be suspended from RAD for the time being, I will reach out when you can come back.

Sincerely;

Lord Diavolo”

MC didn’t even react to the letter, just shoved it in his pocket and left. Not going to Purgatory Hall, he couldn’t trust anyone anymore. He had no clue where he was going.

MC found himself in an alleyway, tired and hungry, unable to go buy himself food without wasting all of his emergency money. As if the world just wanted to make things worse, he felt a few drops of rain turn into a downpour. Could things get any worse?

#obey me #obey me angst #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me replaced au #replaced mc

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wildesqdreams · 10 months

Text

midnight drop

pairing - grayson hawthorne x reader.

summary - a late-night swim in the swimming pool after the shocking will reading doesn't help grayson cool down, but it's a good thing that his girlfriend is there to help.

warnings - spoilers from the book "inheritance games", shirtless grayson + kissing.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: my first grayson fic has finally arrived, yeyeyeyeye :)) i also have to read the third book, but i don't want to, because I don't want the series to end.

y/n sat on the edge of the swimming pool. the sky was dark, but not pitch black, because the stars were visible. even though the girl felt at peace, she felt slight waves crash against her legs, making her lip corners lift.

the reason she was out at midnight was because of her boyfriend. grayson hawthorne. her eyes followed his figure in the water.

swimming laps was his way to relax. to clear his mind. but it was visible that he couldn't get the shocking news from today out of his mind.

even though he wouldn't admit it, y/n knew he was quite upset. she could tell by his tensed muscles and by the tone of his voice, as he spoke, filling in the silence.

the fortune that he should have inherited from his grandfather. the things that he should have gotten, for his hard work and his wasted time, were given to a random girl named, avery. and the question was - why?

why would someone leave something so meaningful to a random person? but in the hawthorne house surprises and mysteries were a normal thing, so the girl couldn't help but smile, when she heard her boyfriend, for the thousand time, talk about how the girl had seduced or manipulated him.

"what?" grayson noticed the grin on the girl's face.

"nothing."

"then what's so funny?" he slightly furrowed his eyebrows as he stopped swimming.

she just shrugged with a smile still on her face.

"y/n."

his stare was intense.

the kind of intense that made grayson stand out. that stare that made others feel threatened or powerless, but for the girl, it was like she was the only girl he could see, while the world slowly disappeared, "it just humerus me how you think that she manipulated your grandfather because he was the real mastermind."

"so funny," he stated, as he rolled his eyes.

she could feel the annoyance in his tone, which made her want to tease him even more, so she continued, "that's what i'm saying."

but for some reason his next move wasn't the one she taught it would be - him getting more frustrated - but instead grayson started swimming towards her, "mhm, yeah, really funny."

"wha- what are you doing?"

"nothing," he said calmly, with a small smile.

sensing that he was up to something, she started to take her leg out of the pool so she could get away, but before the girl could do that, y/n felt the boy's wet hand on her leg, holding her in place, "gray..."

"mhm?" his hands slowly traveled up her thighs to her waist.

"what are you planning?"

a smirk appeared on his face and she felt his hands grip her sides tighter, "i just want to laugh too."

"wait grayson-" but her words were silenced when she felt the cold water.

her clothes, face, and hair were soaked. y/n felt the coldness against her skin, hitting every nerve, that made her immediately come up from underwater.

the girl saw her boyfriend laughing and she splashed water on him, "you idiot!" but that didn't stop his laughter, "it's not funny you asshole!"

"oh, but it is," he chuckled, as he reached for her.

when she felt grayson's hand grab her side, y/n removed from his touch "don't touch me."

the boy smirked, "you mad, princess?"

"fuck off."

"that's quite hard when you're so beautiful," he reached for her side again.

"i'm wet," y/n stated in a serious tone, but when she saw the boy's eyebrows slightly lift, the girl immediately said, "not like that!"

"i didn't say anything," he pulled her closer with a grin on his face.

y/n rested her head on his shoulder, so he wouldn't see her tinted face, "i'm still mad," her hands wrapped around his waist.

"oh, really?"

the girl hummed. she felt his hand move slowly up and down her side.

"well, there's no need to be. i didn't do anything," he added.

she pulled back and stared at him, her arms remaining in their place, "oh, really?" the girl said the same words as he.

grayson gave her a small smile, before leaning in and capturing her lips in his. he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her, so the girl could wrap her legs around his waist.

y/n's arms wrapped around his neck, "i despise you," she murmured in the kiss.

grayson started to trail kisses down her jaw towards her neck, "we both know that's a lie, princess."

and it was because y/n y/l/n would die for him. her heart beat for him and he was her home. her safety. grayson hawthorne felt the same. that's why their love for each other was magnificent.

"well maybe now you're right," the girl murmured.

he disattached his lips from her skin and looked at her, "i'm always right," and with that, he leaned in for another kiss.

#the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the hawthorne brothers #hawthorne brothers #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery grambs #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne x y/n #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne imagine #grayson hawthorne fluff

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bisexual-horror-fan · 1 year

Text

"Better Story, Improved Effects." Mickey Altieri X Reader.

Soooo I was re-watching Scream 2 last week while sick in bed and something finally clicked in my brain and I realized oh fuck, I love Mickey. So shit, here we are, his first smut! I dunno where this all came from but maybe it was just lying dormant under the surface and now it’s all out here to play and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Big shout out to @eggsandbeer for the title, beta reading and to her and ALSO @ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds for the help on his character and all the hyping up since this was my first time writing him.

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Part two now here.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.3K. Mickey Altieri X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Drinking. Cheating. You Are Randy’s Girlfriend. Shit Talking. Rude Behaviour. Manipulation. Making Out. Grinding. Dirty Talk. Vaginal Fingering. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Eating Pussy. Teasing. Banter. Orgasm Denial. Extreme Frustration. Bad Mouthing Randy. Filming. Sex Caught On Tape. Dub-Con. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Spanking. Masturbation. Cuckolding. Vaginal Sex. Squirting. Cream Pie.

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The last way you wanted to spend your Friday night was attending a party solo and thoroughly annoyed with your boyfriend, and yet here you were.

You had been looking forward to unwinding from a hectic week with Randy, some drinks, getting a little messy, perhaps a bit publicly indecent. Then that turning from a kind of foreplay of its own to hastily finding a dark corner secluded enough to hook up with a minimal, (but still a very exciting and arousing), risk of getting caught.

But no, sadly, instead of getting to do any of that you were walking up to the party already well underway totally alone and all because Randy had other plans he didn’t bother making you aware of until about an hour ago. He bought a ticket to go see some movie he had already seen a hundred times, a fact you pointed out quickly that had him replying with equal speed, saying, “But I’ve never seen it on the big screen!”

As if that makes it all okay and would quell your negative emotions and upsetness about him leaving you behind and kicking off his weekend without you. He made some over the top, big and grand promises about making it up to you tomorrow and you rolled your eyes with an unconfident, “Uh-huh”.

It left your lips before he proceeded to try and smooth his departure with a few kisses that you barely returned and on top of that didn’t do much of anything to smooth down your ruffled feathers. He left in short order and you finished getting ready for your night out in a huff. Did you pour some extra effort into looking good so he would feel extra bad and stupid for ditching you for some lame movie? Yes. Was that just a touch petty? Also yes but who could blame you?

Soon as you pushed your way through the bothersome cluster of assholes that were all hanging out and talking in the doorway, for some fucking reason, seriously, who does that? Your first order of business was getting a drink.

The first one went down too quickly and quietly, you didn’t leave the drink station in the kitchen and certainly didn’t talk to anyone yet. One of your hands on the countertop as you gulped down the sticky sweet mixture. You made a second drink after the first and then decided to venture out and seek something out to make you forget about Randy, at least for a little while, the living room that was filled with music and people seemed like as good a place as any to start.

He was hoping he might see you here tonight but seeing you here alone was an unexpected treat. He’d caught sight of you the second you walked in although you did not spot him right off the hop.

He’d been keeping his eyes on you for a while and if Meeks was here there was no way he would have gone this long without latching himself onto you, he is many things, loud, opinionated, and fucking clingy. He doesn’t think there is a single time he had seen you two together where Randy hadn’t been hanging off of you, like he needed to touch you in some way at all times or he would be in physical pain otherwise. To be fair he isn’t sure he would be much better if you were his. None of your other friends were about and your expression told him you were upset, about what he didn’t know, and would he be a good friend if he didn’t walk over and check in on you?

You on an average day was already a treat for the eyes but on a night out like this, when you poured in that extra effort was truly something to behold. He made his way over to you, sliding up beside you, a hand tapping you on the shoulder as he asked, “What’s with the frown?”

Your head snapped up, looking to see Mickey right beside you, hand hovering over your shoulder and smile on his lips but eyes concerned. “Is my bad mood so obvious you clocked it from across the room?” You follow the question up by taking a healthy sip from your drink.

A raise of his eyebrows as he brought up his own cup, he’d crouched slightly when greeting you but standing back up to full height and with a half shrug as he said, “Well it is kinda hard to miss when blue is very much not your colour.”

You stifle a laugh into your cup before saying, “Cute, very cute.”

A grin breaks out on his face, he already got you laughing less than a minute into him walking up, this was a great sign. “Soooo what’s up?”

“Ahhhh-” A dismissive wave of your hand as you raise your cup for another sip, and he laughs, a shake of his head as he points to you, “No, no ‘ahhhh’, something is up so spill!”

“I don’t wanna bring down your night.” You say honestly.

He scoffs, “Doubt that you could do that, and what are friends for if not to listen to whatever is eating you?”

He made a good point. Maybe if you vented and got it all off your chest you would feel better? So you give in much easier than you probably should have. A heavy sigh and you take his hand with the one that wasn’t currently holding your drink, urging him as you say, “Okay, c’mon.”

Mickey brightens at the contact that you initiated as he lets you drag him off through the glass sliding doors leading to the backyard.

Sitting on the back patio you proceed to spill your guts, the thump of the music lessened now that you were outside, much easier to hear each other and talk properly. When you finished filling him in he was less than impressed to learn of the reason for your bad mood, what kind of idiot was Randy to ditch you like this? He was of course, nothing but sympathetic to your plight and your pain but also that not so small and sick part inside of him saw this as a golden opportunity, a perfect way to hopefully do what he had been dying to for months. He just had to play it right.

He started easy, saying, “Wow, no wonder you are so upset.”

You exhaled with a nod as you leaned back in your chair and that led to him following up with, “I mean I knew Meeks was a fucking idiot but this might be one of the dumber things he has ever done.”

A small shocked laugh spilled out and it emboldens him, he wants to lean closer to you but doesn’t want to push, not yet so instead he is continuing further before you could hope to respond, “Like does carrot top have any brains at all to rather pass up a party with you for a fuckin’ movie? I bet if I cracked his skull open all I’d find is some loose un-popped corn kernels and a pool of that artificial butter schlock they serve at the theatre he is at right now.”

“Damn Mickey, tell me how you really feel.” You responded before you giggled and he said with a sure nod, “I will! Randy fuckin’ Meeks is totally fucking brain dead for doing this and you should be pissed up at him.”

“Yeah?” You ask, fingers circling the rim of your cup and he said loudly, arms outstretched, “Yes! I mean Christ! What, you don’t think he deserves just a little bit of your ire for pulling this stunt?”

He makes a compelling argument.

He had you smiling, had you laughing and more importantly, he validated your feelings. The more you both talked, the more he decried Randy’s actions and backed you up as your second drink was finished, you felt it. The annoyance, the anger, the unfairness, you ended up telling him a few more things, disagreements and issues minor in nature that Randy had done to upset you, things you think you would be over but when a bit tipsy and upset, venting, it all comes bubbling up to the surface.

It really couldn’t have gone better, you giving him those few more insights gave him more chances to plant further unrest between you and him.

You felt insanely heard and listened to, and maybe it was your overall mood, maybe it was a bit of the drink, but everything he was saying made sense, perhaps Randy wasn’t that great a boyfriend, this movie thing might be indicative of a bigger problem in your whole relationship. Your head felt confused but that was lessening, the longer you chat, the more he insists Randy’s behavior is fucked up, you find it harder and harder to deny that it held weight and made sense.

All and all the conversation was around a half hour before he was encouraging you to get up, saying, “Enough about that asshole, it’s Friday night and look around, it’s a party! He’s out having fun and you should be too.”

He was right again and you told him as such, feeling less burdened, lighter and overall excited to have fun and put those awful feelings aside for the time being. “Yeah! No more moping, fuck him, it’s his loss.”

“Hell yeah it is.” You get up and the pair of you end up marching back into the party. Another drink, talking about not as heavy topics, snacks, sitting in on a card game or two, watching part of a movie that was playing on the tv, and a few hours later you were sitting almost shoulder to shoulder watching a very spirited game of beer pong.

You’d switched to water for a reprieve and during a small lull you said to him, “Hey Mickey?”

A questioning hum that had him turning his head to look at you, “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say thanks for this. I was feeling really fucked up earlier and if you hadn’t stepped in I woulda had a totally shit time tonight but you completely salvaged it. So uhm, thanks.”

He smiles, a shrug before he says, “Least I can do, I sure as shit wasn’t about to let you sit around all dramatic and morose.”

You laugh before trying to defend yourself, “Dramatic and morose, huh? I don’t know if it was that bad.”

His silence speaks volumes.

You speak his name in a questioning and warning tone and he holds up his hand, a wishy washy and wavering hand motion as he said, “Ehhh-”

A scoff of mock offence bracketed with a laugh and you playfully punch him in the shoulder, “You dick! I thought you were saving me from my shitty boyfriend for the night! I didn’t know I was just trading one asshole for another.”

He plays up the impact, rubbing his shoulder as if it actually hurt and he says, “I’m just being honest, I thought you liked me when I was honest.”

“Honest or mean?” You fire back with a grin and he says, “There’s a difference?”

“For the average person, yes.”

All the back and forth was very fond and fun. You were feeling much better than you had been earlier by now and you suggested, “Wanna get out of here? Go for a walk?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You had no destination in mind. Just fresh night air and more conversation. As you meander about the topic, unsurprisingly considering you were talking with Mickey, the talking turns to movies.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Stab?” He asked dramatically aghast, way too loud and head up towards the sky as if God themself would have the answer he seeked and you laughed, “I just haven’t!”

“Well we can fix that, no, we should fix that.” He insisted, a wave of his hand encouraging you to follow as he changed course, you turn to follow, a small jog to catch up to him, “What is it that good?”

“God no! It’s garbage.” He said with a look over his shoulder towards you as if you were nuts for even suggesting it was good. You laughed, “Right, so it’s garbage and so I have to see it?”

“Naturally.” He said with a confident nod, hands sliding into his pockets as you fell in step beside him and you say, “Isn’t it not out of theatres yet? I doubt a show is gonna be happening past midnight.”

“No worries about that, I got a bootleg.” He assured and you asked incredulously, “A bootleg of this garbage movie that you don’t like?”

“Do you not own bootlegs of movies you hate?” He asks and you say, “No because I’m not a fucking psycho unlike my present company apparently.”

He laughs the comment off and soon you are at his place, you had never actually been here before. It was late but you weren’t in a rush to go back to your own abode alone, leading you to step into the door he was holding wide open. Wasn’t a bad place at all and you had it to yourselves, it was slightly cluttered but clean and no off putting smells or gross dishes or garbage so hey, a big win and a leg up on many other college living spaces you’d seen in your time here.

Your eyes wander over the space, posters littering the walls, books scattered around and other items as he puts the tape in before coming to flop down beside you with a smile, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The couch wasn't half bad, there was more than enough room on it for you and him and yet you didn’t stay far apart for long. As you watched and talked, Mickey pointing out flaws and inaccuracies, jokes and riffing you and he scooted nearer, until this moment right there, where you were just about shoulder to shoulder. One of his hands was on his own knee, the other one gesturing to the tv screen as he said, “I mean have you ever seen organs look faker? The colour is totally off, the blood spray should have been bigger and this is supposed to be outside! Where’s the steam?! The inside of a freshly ripped into body should be hot.”

It wasn’t like horror was your favourite genre and you are sure it isn’t his but you could appreciate the passion he held for the craft, for authenticity of film making, you keep the mood light tease, “Oh yeah because you know just what a murder scene looks like, right?”

He laughs, hardly managing to stifle it before he says, “You don’t know everything I’ve done, I could have all sorts of life experiences you are unaware of but besides that it doesn’t take a killer to know that based off the body's internal temperature if sliced into like that-” Another point to the screen, the mangled torso with the mess of red and innards on display, “-it would steam up in the fall evening air.”

You hum with a nod and then a line read on screen was so bad he started up again with another joke that had you laughing in a way that made it hard to breathe. He was piling on, you leaning into him fully now and then that is when his hand makes contact, again only after you touch him first.

A simple move from his own knee to yours, both cracking up and as you come down his hand doesn’t move, instead a simple squeeze as his gaze shifts from screen to you and back again. He is wearing that sideways grin that before tonight sure made your own stare linger a bit longer than it should for a person with a boyfriend, but now? It was having a different effect.

You’d thought about it, mostly before you got with Randy, but Mickey was a really attractive guy, you got along absurdly well and tonight he treated you amazingly, was here for you in a big way when you needed him. You weren’t even tipsy any longer, you can’t blame the feelings he was giving you on the alcohol. You were only human and him encouraging you to feel your emotions, validating them, the close proximity and clear chemistry you both had wasn’t helping this either. You were positive he was into you.

Were you seriously considering this?

He interrupted your thoughts, “You having a good time?”

The question startled you. Not just because he spoke but what he said, Mickey was a pretty self assured guy, the question might sound insecure in nature but it wasn’t spoken in a tone that lended to that. You play along and respond, “Yeah, yeah I am. Why do you ask?”

“Oh just know that what we got up to tonight probably wasn’t what you were initially planning to.” He responded with ease, not insecure, just concerned and you sighed, he was a really good guy wasn’t he?

“Yeah it wasn’t but that isn’t your fault it’s Randy’s for ditching, besides what we did almost all of what he and I would have anyway plus some extra stuff.”

You gesture to the screen and the movie you certainly wouldn’t have seen were it not for him. He asks next, “Well glad I could help give you a good Friday night but that almost all has me curious, what exactly did you miss out on?”

You were painfully aware of the fact that his hand was still on your knee, your eyes drew down slightly at the maintained contact, your shoulders still pressed together, your thighs touching, you leaning into him has created multiple points of contact that you were only just paying attention to now. His body was warm, he smelt good and the question he asked made your mind run back to your intentions at the start of the night, of that semi public risky fuck you wanted to have with Randy.

A subdued shrug, so small that if his eyes weren’t locked onto you and your shoulder on his he might have missed it, “Nothing two college kids in a relationship wouldn’t normally get up to post-party.”

“Ahhh.”

The silence that followed was heavy and tension filled and he said, his eyes moving over you in a way that could be read as more than just ‘friendly’, “Shame I can’t help you out with that.”

Fuck it.

“Couldn’t you?” The question was spoken with your gaze raised, gaging his reaction, the slight raise of his eyebrows and confusion on his features meets the small uptick of the sides of his mouth, “What about Randy?”

“What about him?” You bite back with a casual shrug.

This was too perfect for him but he still had to play this right. An amused exhale before he reminds you, “He’s your boyfriend?”

“And yet I am here with you, alone in your place and on your couch with him nowhere in sight.” And any remaining gap was closed by you, leaning that last bit, one hand meeting his cheek and you tugging him closer to kiss him. As soon as you made that final move, as soon as your lips met his all bets were off, this was happening, patience and hard work pays off and he can take.

The response you draw from him is immediate, a soft groan, his hands moving, finding your waist, shifting his body and adjusting his posture to better return your sudden affection. You move with him, allowing him to do what he wants, take more of the lead, something he seemed to do with a startling amount of ease, as if he expected you to not only bend but to be into it.

You were very much into it.

It wasn’t like what you had with Randy was bad but he was relatively inexperienced when you got together and still wasn’t the most confident without some major prompting and praise. He was a good kisser but more than that you had a great rhythm off the hop, found a solid groove with a natural give and take that seemed to feed into one another beautifully. His hands feel good on your waist, they are grounding and it drives you to want to touch him further. The thumb on your hand still cupping his face swipes over his cheekbone and you tilt his face to be closer still, a move he permits along with your other hand starting on his side before wandering up the expanse of his chest through his shirt.

His hands slip lower, you feel a rough press of him over your hips and then his hands on your outer thighs and he tugs, a further adjustment so you are underneath him, he is leaning further forward, his body starting to cover yours as the make out hastily progressed. The need overwhelms you first, he breaks the kiss and his lips drags down your jaw and further still, kissing over your neck and you arch, squirming your hips, grinding against him and he smiles against your throat from how well this is going so quickly.

Your fingers hook in the neck of his shirt, tangling, twisting, you pull, desperate for more contact as you grind again, he nips lightly at your pulse and you moan again, softer and so sweet, addicting for him to hear. Another few passes of tongue and of teeth that have your thighs hugging his hips and the next grind that happens is mutual, as is the breath that is caught in your respective throats. “Fuck, you’re better at this than I imagined.”

The smile on his face shifts to a grin that is outright cocky, one of his hands on your hip he pulls, makes you grind on him in a way that has your head falling back with a sigh and he asks, “Have you imagined me like this a lot?”

Your hands don’t stop wandering his body, feeling him and when you don’t respond right away, more concerned with the next move of your hips and the subtle rush of pleasure, he continues, “Thought about me being the one doing this when you’re with your shitty little boyfriend?”

A shake of your head, but you don’t stop, you start to tug, a silent plea for him to take off his shirt and one he gives into as you say, “He’s not that bad.”

He is sitting up on his knees, the lack of contact makes you want to complain but the fabric is peeled away and thrown to the side and any possible complaining is forgotten about. A scoff, “Sure, yeah, he’s a real great guy, hence why you were just grinding yourself all over me with your tongue down my throat.”

A laugh that is too light all things considered, “Shut up.”

He listens. Your hands on his shoulders yanking him until he is against you once more, your mouth crashing into his. Your body was warm and soft, you were talking about this being better than you imagined but he was stuck with the same realisation, you were a good kisser, had amazing give and take and of course the mental aspect, you were in a relationship but ready and willing, touching him, kissing him, it had him aching in his jeans. He started to tug on the bottom of your top and you broke the kiss in a hurry to free yourself of the constraining material. The sight of you in your bottoms and the pretty lace framing you up top turns him on so much more.

It progresses quickly after that. You spread below him on your back, your tongue parting his lips allowing his into your mouth, an action he completes with a small groan his wandering hands choosing to settle, particularly one finding its home between your thighs and you arched into his touch with a hushed, “Fuck yes.”

He lets out a pleased hum, your hands work with his, removing the remaining clothing to give him better access and when there is the last layer between you and his touch he asks in a tone that is as humorous as it is sickeningly sweet, “Am I allowed to speak?”

A hurried nod as you squirm, his fingers brush over you more firmly and he says, “You’re fucking drenched. I don’t think I’ve ever felt someone get this wet from just a little making out, how hard up for it are you?”

“Very.” Your breath hitches and he knows he’s found the right spot to focus on, fingers swirling over your straining clit through your damp panties. “Is he not doing what he should be?”

Your brain feels foggy, you are far more concerned with the sensation starting to wash over you, limbs feeling heavier, eyes half lidded and rocking your hips with the movement of his hand, “Who?”

He laughs, “Who? You already forgot all about him? That tells me everything I need to know that poor ol Meeks isn’t satisfying you.” Before any protest or defending of your boyfriend could leave your mouth he is tugging the crotch of your panties aside and feeling the bare heat of his fingers against you makes you gasp, head falling back against the arm of the couch.

You try to push out what you wanted to say, try to tell him, “I-I didn’t forget M’ just, ugh, distracted, you-you’re distracting.”

“Awe yeah, I’m a really big distraction, do I make it hard to think?” He asks as his fingers pick up the pace, pressing more firmly you moan and nod, “Yes! You do.”

“I could make it worse.” He teases and he moves quickly. Still shirtless, in just his jeans he is on his knees and tugging you further down the length of the couch, underwear half on, your legs over his shoulders his head dips down and his strong but soft tongue licking that first stripe over your clit has you crying out with an arch of your back.

He did make it worse. You couldn’t think properly as soon as the make out started, your mind was far too busy with him and the taste, feeling, the pleasure, it stole all logic and sense. With his lips wrapped around such a sensitive part of you, cradling your clit and sucking indulgently, pretty mouth latched on and tongue lathing over you between his lips, fingers digging into your hips and ass as he held you where he needed, you felt like you were threatening to fall apart in less than five fucking minutes.

Panting out his name, heels digging into his well toned back, fingers scrambling against the corduroy like material of the couch cushions as the feeling built, if he kept this up you’d be cumming against his talented tongue in about two more minutes. Thighs squeezing his head as well as your erratic breathing clues him into how close your end is and he pulls back, the wet strand of spit, the leash connecting his mouth and your clit breaks as he moves back, his fingers take over, messy circles drawn and you whine as the edge backs off from the change in pressure and technique, “How are you doing up there?”

His own voice sounded rough with arousal, the knowledge that he is into this, getting off on eating you out makes another wash of arousal soak into your brain, heart still pounding as you tell him, “Good, so good, please Mickey, keep going.”

“Keep going?” He asks, his head resting on your inner thigh as his fingers continue to dance over your pulsing clit, your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, a nod as your eyebrows draw together, “Yeah, please? I was getting close, an-and your mouth is, fuck, amazing.”

He preens under the praise, “Oh is it?” He is playing dumb as his thumb comes down and he pulls your clitoral hood up, nerve dense tissue exposed and vulnerable, he blows gently and you shiver, body tensing, Christ, how were you so sensitive that even air passing through his lips felt this good?

“Ye-yeah, I wanna cum, please, please-” And he decided to tease you further still, he leaned in, tongue out and your eyes are wide, teeth tugging on your bottom lip, desperate to feel him again, for him to keep going, to push you over the edge. Less than an inch from contact he pulls back with a sigh, “I dunno-”

Your head tips back with a loud groan as you roll your eyes, “Fuuuuck, Mickey, c’mon, I’m dying over here!”

“Yeah? Does it hurt, yet?” He asks and you do notice a distinct ache along your swollen walls, a throbbing pain of denial in your clit steadily building and how awfully empty you feel at this moment.

“Starting to, yes.” You bite out and he says, “Maybe I should be nice and help you out.”

“Yes, please, please be nice to me.” You beg and with your head still back, staring up at the ceiling you are unprepared when he licks over you again, the yelp that leaves you makes him snicker before he says, “Sure, I’ll be nice, I’ll get you off.”

You ramble, babble out your thanks and his mouth is back where it should be, lips locked over your clit, licking, sucking, one of his hands sliding between your thighs and two fingers delve inside to aid further, you clench around them with a stuttered moan of his name. It takes about three minutes for you to be on the edge between him working your clit and his fingers fucking in and out of you, curling just so in and out again and again. “God, Mickey, don’t stop, don’t stop, M’ almost there-”

And then he does just that.

He stops, his fingers stay lodged inside of you, fingers pressed to that sweet spot he’d found with ease but no longer moving and you want to cry, you ask in completely frustration, “Mickey what the fuck?”

“I know, I know, I told you I’d help you out and M’ gonna, soon as you give me something.” You are looking down the length of your body to him between your spread thighs and are just about ready to agree to anything so long as he’d make you cum. “What is it?”

The grin on his face is positively wolfish, he licks again over your clit and you inhale sharply, “Nothing big.”

“No?” You ask and another lazy lick combined with a rock of his fingers he says, “No. I just want you to tell me I’m better than Randy is and I’ll make you cum your brains out.”

Your heart drops, you shake your head, for some reason, that wakes you up, makes the heat inside you cool, you feel like that is the line, that is too far, you say, “No, I-I can’t do that.”

He tsk’s, “Shit, guess you don’t want to cum that bad then.” He didn’t stop though. He didn’t pull away, far from it, he goes back to eating you out and fingering you he just kept fucking stopping before you could cum and he kept on posing that question, your juice painting his chin.

“You wanna admit it yet?” And you kept on telling him, “No-no, I-I don’t ha-have anything to admit.”

It made him laugh. He had two fingers three knuckles deep inside you, right now and felt your clit pulsing in pure frustrated need in his mouth less than two seconds ago but sure, you had nothing to admit. “I can feel how hot and worked up you are, how many times have I edged you already? You are a really, really bad fucking liar.”

“M’ not lying!” You attempt to assert but your voice wavers, “No? So I’m not better than Randy? He makes you sweat and tremble like this before he’s ever even made you cum once?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and refuse to meet his gaze. You want to thread your fingers in that stupid sexy messy hair and grind on his tongue until he makes you cum, not have this stupid battle of wills.

“Mmm, yeah that is why you aren’t able to look at me, because I am so far off base.” He sounds unbearably smug and he slides his fingers out of you and you almost break, you want to sob and plead for him to continue but he is sucking the mess that had coated his fingers and you again feel your mind going blank at the visual.

He is getting up and his erection pressed against the denim looks like it has to hurt, he was starting to undo his pants and said once he was standing at full height, “How about you return the favour though and see if your tune changes?”

That sounds way too appealing to you especially because you could pay him back with some torture of your own and torture you do. After taking in the sight of him bare, your mouth is practically watering, he looks frankly delicious and you intend to dine happily. Your hand locks around the base and you lean in, eyes staring up at his face as your tongue makes the first pass, intent on taking in his expression and how he reacts to the movement. It is positive to say the least, the slight inhale, the tensing of his muscles, and the small curse that spills out. Your tongue flicks over his flushed tip, tasting the ample pre-cum that he had been leaking, your lips close, a chaste kiss before you begin to move down one side of his shaft, he is impossibly hot and throbbing in your grip.

This is going to be too easy.

Is what you initially thought but you would also be very wrong, because even as you let him breach your mouth, even as you begin to suck and take more of him in, you don’t feel in control or empowered. You feel weaker and hotter, he made you feel so fucking good with seemingly such little effort that you being able to do the same, to pull such reactions out of him makes you want consider his previous offer more seriously.

You try to push those thoughts away as you blow him.

You gag yourself, choke on him and it makes him groan your name, his hips buck, he fucks in and out of your lips stretched around him and drool slips out, slides down your neck as you hold his hip with one hand, the other around the base of him still, hand working him in tandem with your mouth. You look up again, his eyes are still on you, on the length of him sliding between your slick lips, his neck and chest blooming red, flush from pleasure painted over his features as he pants and you squeeze your thighs together.

All in all you used your mouth on him for around five minutes before you break, pulling him out you ask, out of breath and needy, “Fuck me?”

Randy is coming inside after going to get himself some breakfast, it’s around ten AM, sun shining and he is carrying a stack of mail and thinking about giving you a call soon to make up for him bailing last night. The movie was a good time but he missed you, he didn’t do much after the movie, came back here and went to bed basically, he thinks you will probably be up soon. He is about to sit down on the couch when something catches his eye, namely, a tape half in half out of the VCR. He comes forward, he pulls the tape out and there are no markings whatsoever on it, odd.

He is curious enough that he thinks why not, he shrugs and pops the tape in, he walks back around the coffee table and is flipping through the mail again but what he hears gives him pause, makes him stop.

Hearing a very familiar modulated voice greeting him, “Hello Randy. Been a while. Seems like some stuff has changed for you, like the cute girlfriend, she’s new. I like what I have seen of her, how much I have seen of her, thought you’d be interested to see what she was up to last night that I managed to catch on video.”

And the voice over cuts out and instead he is hearing your voice, gasping out, “Mickey oh my fucking God-”

He pauses flipping through and looks up and what he sees playing out on the screen makes him gasp.

The video shows a well lit apartment, the main focus of the shot is a couch, the view is from the side and bent over the arm of the couch pointing at the lens is you, not a stitch of clothing on, fingers digging into blue fabric, open mouthed and moaning, with who the fuck else but Mickey Altieri behind you. He was fucking you and seemingly you were loving every second of it, your face twisted in bliss and rocking back onto him, “Yes, yes, yes-”

“Good?” He asked with a laugh and your head pitches forward, a shaky nod and you hum the affirmative, “Mmhm!”

“Yeah it is, fuck you’re tight.” His hand reaches out, he grabs your hair, wraps the handful around his fist and he tugs hard, you cry out and clench down on him making him suck his own teeth from the sharp jolt of pleasure, he is pulling your hair so your head snaps back up, making sure he is showing off your gorgeous expressions for the camera.

Little did you know that when he passed by the camera set on the counter earlier to grab his bootleg he turned it on, that it had been running this whole time. It didn’t take much to edit it, or to add the voice over or for him to sneak it into Randy’s apartment either, honestly it was too easy if anything.

Randy had dropped the mail and was slowly sitting down, he can’t stop watching as you rock yourself back, helping impale yourself on Mickey and moaning the whole way. His hand that wasn’t pulling your hair is sliding down and the cry that tears from your throat makes what he is doing obvious, fucking you doggy style and toying with your clit at the same time has you telling him in a few more thrusts, “Shit, oh, ohh Mickey, fuck, I-I’m close again, fuck-”

“You gonna give it up? You gonna say what we both know is true?” He prompts and you shake your head, “I-I cah-can’t, Mickey, just, let me cum, please-”

“Not till you say it.” His hand is out of your hair and laying a hard hit onto your ass that makes your back arch and finally you can’t take it any longer, your confession pours out, “You’re better than him okay?! Fuck, fuck! You’re so, so much better tha-than Randy, make me feel so good, he-he’s a joke next to you, God, don’t stop!”

“Oh there you go, see? Doesn’t being honest feel so, fucking, good?” Those last three words are bookended by a brutal thrust, another strong move of his fingers and finally you break, nodding along, agreeing as you cum chanting his name over and over like some broken and fucked up prayer, trembling the entire time as the pleasure tears through you and threatens to make you collapse.

“What the fuck…” Randy asks quietly as he continues to watch the scene unfold, watch as Mickey keeps railing you totally dumb and you agree with all the fucked up things he asks, drooling and telling him, “You’re so good, so much better, keep, ah, keep fucking me, please!”

“You think I’m able to stop now? Not a fucking chance.”

He can’t bring himself to turn it off. Even as you continue to insult him, even as Mickey makes you parrot back that Randy is quote, “A shit fuck-ing boyfriend who doesn’t deserve you.”

When you say it though it sounds a lot more broken and pathetic, "He-he's a shit fu-fuck-ing boyfriend who-who doesn't deserve meeee-"

Randy gets shamefully, embarrassingly, painfully hard as Mickey fucks you harder and harder, fucks you through another two more orgasms and a few more good position changes. Watching you ride him while he has a hand locked around your throat is hard to take, but the worst has to be when Mickey has his arms wrapped around you, fucking up into you and you are just trying to take it, legs shaking and too weak to do anything else but cling to and kiss him as he has you, as he holds you. That sloppy kiss is broken, your eyes squeezed shut as you are telling him for the fourth time since the tape started, “Mickey, I’m close again, God, yes!”

And not only do you cum, not only do you sob out his name as Mickey’s hard dick slips in and out of your well fucked hole, no, you end up squirting too, something Randy didn’t even know your body was capable of. Your moan bleeds, cracks at the edges and the man fucking you laughs, a blissed out joyful sound of disbelief, “Holy shit!”

The amount that comes out of you is impressive, he watches as the camera picks up the rivulets of liquid as they race down Mickey’s shaft and his sac and the quickly darkening stain under the pair of you as he doesn’t relent even for a moment. Mickey kisses you, deeply, sloppy and to add further insult to injury, after you are coming down from your orgasm, he breaks that same kiss he initiated and asked, “Randy ever make you squirt like that?”

And you laugh, eyes rolling back and a shake of your head as you breathlessly admit, dumb and cock drunk as you tell him, “No way, not once.”

The tape doesn’t even stop there, it goes on until Mickey is the one warning you minutes later of his impending orgasm and it is like you become possessed, your hands lock behind his neck, a burst of energy, motivated, you ride with abandon and Mickey doesn’t even have to ask, you are too far gone, you are the one who begs, “Cum inside, don’t pull out!”

He should get up.

He should turn off the tv.

He should take out the tape and smash it to bits but no, he does none of those things. He watches helplessly as Mickey’s hands grip your hips so hard Randy bet’s they will bruise as he holds deep and unloads inside of you. Mickey let out a groan of your name and you shiver and Randy is sure you can feel every pulse of him as he fills you.

The come down is sickeningly and stomach turningly intimate, he feels as if he is intruding on a private moment even though you are his girlfriend. He watches the kisses passed back and forth, the soft touches and he is about to wonder when the tape WILL finally cut when he hears that mocking voice of Ghostface again, “Pretty hot, huh? I think they make a good couple, what about you Meeks? You enjoy the sequel?”

And the screen goes black.

He sits there staring at the tv set for all of thirty seconds before he gets up and goes over. He doesn’t hesitate to hit rewind. He should talk to you, confront you about what happened, what this means, what you did but when the tape finishes rewinding he doesn’t do that.

He takes his original seat and frees himself from his pants and guilty enjoys the second of what is sure to be many viewings with his dick hard and hot in his palm.

#HOOOO BOY #HERE IT IS #Mickey Altieri X Reader #Ghostface x reader #BHF writing #Thank you again to Riri and Ace for all the assists!#I loved writing this so fucking much #Randy Meeks X Reader

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mypoisonedvine · 7 months

Note

Kinda dark!Neil gets jealous and very possessive over his best friend (reader) when she's dating someone. They end up arguing, he calls her something bad, she slaps him and he kisses her, eventually confessing his feelings.

I got so many requests for various versions of dark neil like yall are FERAL for him and honestly? yeah. mood.

warnings: dark (obviously), manipulation, basically neil is just an asshole lmao

"I just think you can do better," he shrugged, glancing away from you. And even though you'd probably heard it a thousand times, for some reason that one was the last straw.

"I wish you'd just say it, Neil," you spat at him, getting his attention again with a raised eyebrow. "I wish you'd just say what you're obviously getting at."

"What?" he denied, scoffing.

"You know, Craig thinks that you're--"

"Oh, fucking Craig," he rolled his eyes, "god forbid we forget for one second what Craig think-- cause Craig is sooo smart, right?"

"Shut up," you frowned. "You know, if you were really my friend, you'd just be supportive."

"If I was really your friend?" Neil repeated. "What's that mean? What am I if not your friend?"

"I-I-- well--" you stammered, trying again to say it but losing your nerve.

Neil scoffed, crossing his arms as he gave you this nasty, smug kind of smile. "You tell me to just say it, but you can't even say it yourself," he noticed. "You're not that tough, you know."

You pouted a little, looking down at the floor.

"I am your friend," he promised, "but I don't wanna be."

You nervously looked up at him, not sure what that meant, and found him stepping closer.

"I'm guessing Craig told you that-- he's an idiot, but I guess he's not completely oblivious..." Neil sighed, stepping closer to you again-- making you start to step back a little. "I don't wanna just be your friend. There, I said it."

"Wh-what do you want?" you asked, even though the answer was pretty obvious now-- you were still hoping he might give a different answer.

"I want you," he said, and your heart jumped as he stepped closer. "I always wanted you."

"N-Neil, you don't mean that," you breathed.

"I've never meant anything like I mean that," he assured. "And you can lie to yourself or to fucking Craig all you want-- but I know you want me, too."

"God, I defended you," you remembered with wide eyes, "Craig said you were just trying to get into my pants, and I defended you. I can't believe he was right..."

"Did you really not know?" Neil laughed a little. "Sometimes I thought it was obvious."

"No, I didn't know! I trusted you!" you yelped.

"Well, Jesus-- you make it sound like I did something awful," he laughed thinly, "it's not a crime to fall for your best friend."

"But all this time, and you never told me," you sighed, "were you just... waiting? Thinking I'd eventually fall into bed with you?"

"I mean..." Neil stalled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, and you groaned as you rolled your eyes.

"God, you're such a creep!"

He frowned, glaring at you a bit. "Listen, I'm sorry you're so goddamn disappointed, but you don't have to be such a bitch--"

Instantly you put your hand up-- it was pure instinct at that point-- but before you could hit him across the face, he grabbed your wrist and clicked his tongue at you disapprovingly.

"Don't do that," he warned you. "Don't be like that."

"Neil, let go," you whimpered, trying to tug your hand away, but he just grabbed your hip and pulled you into him. His eyes met yours before trailing down to your lips, his own sighing for a moment.

"I wanted you so bad," he said again, softer, "for so long. Enough to drive a guy crazy, you know-- being around you all the time and never having you."

"Neil, please," you whispered back, eyes welling with tears. "Just let me go, please."

"Not until you admit that you wanted this, too," he replied, and you shook your head as you bit your shaking lip.

He frowned again, finally letting go of your wrist and holding your cheek instead.

"We're so much better for each other," he insisted, "I'll take such good care of you, angel. Why won't you just let me do that, huh?"

Instead of giving you time to respond, he suddenly pressed his lips to yours; he held your head when you tried to pull back, forcing you to stay close against him as he hummed quietly against you. You tried to push harder on his shoulders, but he only tilted his head and deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into the opening created by your gasp of protest.

He seemed to think if he just forced it on you long enough, you'd succumb to it, and he got frustrated when he didn't work. He slipped his hand around your neck, tightening it just enough to threaten you with something worse. "Kiss me," he ordered you under his breath, and you felt like you had to at this point for your safety. Struggling to put any real passion into it as your heart raced with fear, you shut your eyes and finally kissed him back; he moaned a little, you even felt him smile and hold you tighter.

You broke away enough to speak again. "We can't-- Neil, this isn't okay," you stammered out.

"It's fine," he promised dismissively as he leaned in again, "I won't tell him."

"N-no, fuck, I don't mean--" you groaned, but you were interrupted when Neil pressed his hips to yours and you felt the bulge in his jeans. "F-fuck, Neil--"

"See what you do to me?" he grinned. "Sorry, I just can't help it-- I swear I'm hard half the time that I'm with you, you're just so cute."

"Are you fucking serious?" you sneered at him.

"You're even cuter when you're angry with me," he laughed, easily pushing your hand away when you tried to hit him again. "C'mon, don't fight me, angel-- please don't fight me."

You were about to ask what the fuck else you were supposed to do when he was acting like this, but you were interrupted as he shoved you down onto the couch, climbing on top of you. "What the fuck are you--?!"

"Shh," he offered, kissing your neck as he started to reach up under your shirt. "Shh, hey, it's gonna be good, okay? You're gonna realize how good we are together."

"Neil, I swear, if you don't get the fuck off of me," you began, gasping as he pinned you down by your wrists.

"Please, baby," he sighed, "I just need you so bad. Okay? I need you so fucking bad I can't stand it-- you're so funny, and sweet, and sexy, and honestly I don't even deserve you, but let me try, you know?"

He really seemed to think this was some grand romantic gesture, and not the most terrifying thing you'd ever seen so up close.

"I'll give you anything you want," he promised, "I'll do anything you want--"

"Get off me."

"Other than that," he added with a little laugh. "I need to show you how much you mean to me... so please don't put up too much of a fight, okay? Because I really don't want to hurt you."

He leaned down and kissed your lips again, softer and sweeter, before kissing your cheek instead and then whispering beside your ear.

"But I will if I have to."

#neil lewis dark smut #dark!neil lewis x reader

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cherienymphe · 1 year

Text

When The Party’s Over XII (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, mentions of DUB-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, forbidden relationship, violence, public sex, jealousy, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption, forced pregnancy, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @silkholland

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

You felt heavy.

You remembered reading books and watching movies and tv shows that featured some traumatic event or another, and the narrator or character always described the aftermath feeling as ‘numb’. You thought that made sense, that their entire body would just seemingly shut down, mind retreating within itself to protect themselves from the trauma. You thought it was fascinating how the brain, the thing that made everything else work as they should, would kick into overdrive to protect itself and its person from completely losing it.

You didn’t get that feeling.

No, you felt heavy.

The weight of Rafe’s actions on the boat pressed down on you like the very water he held your head under. You felt so heavy and overwhelmed. You felt like your body was filled with sand, like you could barely move, and maybe that was why you spent your prison sentence in bed. Pope’s failure to properly come up with a reason as to why your dad shouldn’t go into your room had resulted in your discovered absence.

You hadn’t even cared when he tore into you, going on about irresponsibility and danger. In fact, you’d been relieved. You’d been so relieved that you had cried, throwing yourself at him and taking him by surprise as he slowly hugged you back.

“I’m sorry,” you had mumbled, meaning those two words more than you ever had.

You were sorry that you’d snuck out to see Rafe, resulting in being isolated with the volatile boy. You were sorry that he’d gotten drunk, proceeding to go on a jealous tirade and accuse you of sleeping with Topper, or at the very least, wanting him. You were sorry he’d attacked you, holding your head underwater like some asshole he was fighting at a party instead of…well, his girlfriend.

You were sorry that Rafe was sorry, crawling back to you later that night, filled with regret and desperation as he pleaded with you to forgive him. You were sorry that he scared you so bad that you genuinely didn’t know what he’d do if you kept refusing him, shaking at the thought of being stuck in the middle of the ocean with someone who was not who you thought they were. You were sorry that you let him kiss you, allowing your body to move on autopilot as he laid you down.

You were even more sorry that you forced yourself to hold him, nails digging into his skin and eyes squeezed shut as he fucked you into the bed, a million apologies leaving his lips as he pressed kisses along your skin. You cried the whole time, beyond thankful for the darkness, Rafe mistaking your uneven breathing for excitement instead of fear. How funny that two of the worst experiences of your life happened on the same day…by the same person.

After being grounded for two more weeks, you couldn’t run to your room fast enough.

…and that was where you’d been ever since.

Every call or facetime request from Rafe went ignored. Every text was met with some dry half excuse as to why you couldn’t talk or see him. You knew that it couldn’t go on forever. You knew that you would have to build the courage and actually have the conversation with Rafe, the conversation that you genuinely didn’t think you’d have. At least, not anytime soon.

Every time you remembered what happened, you wanted to cry all over again. You thought you didn’t have any more tears left in you, but every new day proved you wrong. Genuine coke fueled accidents were one thing. Rafe being unaware of his own strength and anger in the middle of the street could even be another thing, but the way he’d deliberately hurt you? The way he’d gone out of his way to intimidate you and dole out a punishment that he felt was justified? That was something else entirely.

It hurt even more to think about the fact that the little incidents you’d accepted as nothing to linger on were actually signs all along. It hurt to think about the grace you’d given him and the faith you’d had in him had been in vain. You’d thought that Rafe was just a good guy who was deeply troubled, someone who so badly wanted to be better but just fucked up sometimes.

You didn’t want to even consider that he might just be a bad person.

Or at the very least, bad for you.

It was rare that you were grounded, and while your family probably expected some moping, you could tell that your voluntary seclusion was worrying them. It was evident in the way Pope had started to knock on your door, asking if you were going to eat. Sometimes you did, reluctantly getting up and telling yourself there was no sense in starving yourself. Sometimes you didn’t think you could keep anything down, too overcome with a heavy sadness that had you telling Pope ‘no’.

Beyond the sadness though…was fear.

You needed to break up with Rafe.

Even just the thought of that conversation had your stomach turning, feeling like you were going to be sick every time his name flashed across your screen. His calls and texts were becoming more frequent, and sometimes you had to turn your phone completely off just to feel like you could breathe. When he was drunk and filled with a delusional jealous rage, he’d tried to drown you. The thought of what he might do if you broke up with him made you lightheaded, but that was exactly why you needed to do it.

The next time he called, you finally answered.

You’d always been under the impression that everyone deserved a proper breakup, a respectful one, but if you could help it, you would never even see Rafe again. Not even to dump him. It hurt to say that he didn’t deserve that, and quite frankly, you didn’t know how he’d react.

“She lives,” he drawled when you picked up the phone, the sound of his voice making you feel too many things to differentiate them all. “I was starting to think you’d been kidnapped, and someone was just using your phone to fuck with me.”

You didn’t join him when he chuckled, and you could tell that he noticed.

“You okay?”

No, you weren’t. You could barely eat, you could barely sleep, and you needed to break up with your boyfriend, but he terrified the crap out of you.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“Rafe, you can’t call me that anymore.”

The words had just slipped out before you knew it, and once they were out there, there was no taking them back. You closed your eyes, rubbing your forehead at the silence on the other end. Your heart was racing, and you were so beyond sure that you were going to throw up any second, but you couldn’t stop. You’d taken the first step, and you couldn’t just stop walking.

“In fact…you can’t call me, at all anymore,” you rushed out. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

The silence was loud, and you slowly sat down on the floor, your back against your bed as you stared at your dresser. You counted the number of knobs, skin growing cold as you waited for him to say something—anything.

“Is this about what happened on the boat?”

“No-.”

“Bullshit.”

He was right. That was bullshit, and you didn’t even know why you’d lied. Maybe because it wasn��t just about what happened on his boat. It was horrible, sure, and had probably traumatized you in ways you weren’t even aware of yet, but it was also a wakeup call. It wasn’t all your fault for choosing to have faith in Rafe, for being forgiving when you thought he was genuinely sorry and was going to change. Especially when he hadn’t gone out of his way to hurt you, but that day on the boat had you rethinking everything.

Now, you didn’t even know if all those other times had been as accidental as they’d seemed, as he’d made them out to be. You didn’t know what to believe anymore, but you did know for a fact that that day on the boat was no accident. It was no small thing you could just brush aside like all the rest.

“Rafe, you tried to drown me,” you whispered, continuing when you heard him take a deep breath. “You accused me of sleeping with Topper and-.”

“I said I was sorry,” he breathed, and you shook your head.

“Maybe you really are sorry, I’ll give you that, but surely you get why that doesn’t change anything…right…?”

He was silent for a few moments, and there was no desire in you to see what he looked like, right now.

“What can I do? What do I have to do to fix this?”

“You can’t! You-.”

You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath.

“I’m terrified of you.”

More silence met you at your confession.

“I can’t be with someone who scares me, who I feel like I can’t trust,” you whispered. “You can’t fix this.”

“So, that’s it?”

His voice was harder, now, icier, and you swallowed.

“I don’t get any say? I don’t even get the respect of you looking me in my fucking face and telling me it’s over?”

“I don’t want to see you,” you honestly told him. “Ever again if I can help it.”

You heard Rafe release a shaky breath, and the chuckle you heard was filled with bitterness.

“I make one mistake-.”

“It’s not just one mistake! Never mind the fact that this isn’t the first time you hurt me, but what you did wasn’t some little thing,” you cried. “If anyone else knew what you did to me…they’d be dragging me to the police station to get you arrested. Do you get that?”

“I don’t care about anyone else or what they might think. I care about the fact that you know what I’m dealing with, and you know how hard it is for me, and you decide you’re going to leave me over some little fuck up,” he quietly said, voice scarily calm. “I care about the fact that you think you can just end this like this-.”

“I am,” you told him, tone incredulous. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry about your family and your dad and-.”

“No, you’re not,” he laughed.

“Yes, I am! I’m sorry, Rafe, I really am-.”

“If you were, you wouldn’t be trying to break up with me, right now! You would understand!”

You looked towards the ceiling, tears kissing your eyes, and you swiped your tongue between your lips. You’d learned that Rafe lashed out when he was hurt, and you tried not to let his anger get to you, but you couldn’t deny the way you shook.

“I am sorry, Rafe. I… I promise that I am,” you choked out. “I’m really sorry.”

You heard him heave a heavy sigh, and he chuckled to himself, and you could almost picture the way he’d look down, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek with that humorless grin on his face.

“Nah,” he drawled. “You’re not. You’re not sorry.”

You opened your mouth when he continued.

“…but you will be.”

You froze, knees kissing your chest as you stared ahead.

“If this little tantrum or whatever makes you feel…powerful, good about yourself, then have at it,” he softly chuckled. “Spend the next month hiding out in your bedroom just to feel like you actually did something, if you must, but…”

Rafe paused, humming to himself.

“I will make you sorry for trying to leave me…and especially now when I really fucking need you.”

His voice was cold, tone venomous and nasty and unlike anything you’d been on the receiving end of. You hadn’t even realized you were crying, reaching up to wipe your face. You’d been holding your breath, and when you exhaled, it was shaky.

Rafe heard.

“I’ll show you just how mean I can be…and then you’ll really have something to cry about.”

You pulled your phone away, not bothering to hear anything else he might’ve had to say, and your fingers shook when you hung up the phone.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come by Topper’s later? One of Kelce’s friends got them a ridiculous amount of beer,” Cam said, lightly bumping her shoulder with yours.

It was the first night you’d left your house in weeks. You’d officially been ungrounded just a week more than that, and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that your lack of desire to leave your room, let alone the house, was throwing your family for a loop.

“You know you’ve been off punishment for almost two weeks, now,” you dad had said one day, awkwardly standing in the doorway of your room with his hands in his pockets.

“Just not up to much,” you had lied. “Tired, mostly.”

It was a half-truth. Rafe’s words had left a sour taste in your mouth, and there was nothing in you that wanted to get out and do anything. You told yourself that he’d just been lashing out, letting his anger consume him for what he felt was a slight on your part. However, there was a good portion of you that shook your head at that. There was something in you that told you that Rafe was completely serious, his anger nothing to scoff at, and the thought that he could turn on you so easily both hurt and scared you.

You’d expected that he wouldn’t take it the best, but that kind of anger from him was something you had only been on the receiving end of once…and he’d been drunk out of his mind.

Not to mention that you were in fact tired these days. You chalked it up to stress, completely oblivious to just how much your relationship with Rafe had taken out of you. It would make sense that now that he was gone, your body and mind were playing catch up, forcing you to actually stop and get back the energy you’d unknowingly been expending.

However, when Bunny had texted you repeatedly, begging you to come out with them, you’d reluctantly agreed. It was mostly because you didn’t need your family worrying or prying, but you’d also missed their faces. It didn’t seem fair to let Rafe ruin every aspect of your life.

So, that was how you found yourself on the beach with a drink in your hand.

“I’m not really in the mood,” you told the redhead with a shrug, no doubt in your mind that Rafe would be there.

Besides, even if you were bold enough to look Rafe in the face and show him he didn’t scare you, you wondered if Topper would even let you in the door. You could only imagine what Rafe had said to him to make him that scared to even hold eye contact with your for a few seconds. The reminder of that angered you, and you took a sip.

You glanced around, recalling that you’d seen John B. in passing a while ago, and you were unsurprised to spot him with his friends, your brother included. They were all looking towards Sarah…who was arguing with Rafe. You paused at the sight of him, pulling your lip between your teeth and turning away. Kelce was here with Cam, but he had come alone.

You should’ve expected Topper to show up at some point too, and expecting him without expecting Rafe was laughable.

The blond had been periodically calling you, leaving a string of voicemails that you didn’t dare listen to. You didn’t even want to see what he’d texted you, and it got so bad and suffocating that you’d just blocked him. You wondered if all the messages were filled with apologies, and while you surmised that some probably were, you knew better. Rafe’s anger on the phone that day didn’t seem like something going away anytime soon.

You forced him out of your mind while somehow remaining conscious of your decision to avoid him. It worked, spending your night at Bunny’s side. She seemed to notice your desire to steer clear of the boys, lingering alone whenever Cam ran off to find Kelce who was with the two blondes. However, you were forced to think about Rafe again when he got into a fight that drew everyone’s attention.

You didn’t know how it started, but you could only be sure that you weren’t the cause this time. Both seemed drunk or high, but that didn’t deter Rafe. Funnily enough, you’d say that whatever was in his system actually helped him, wincing as he punched the other guy without any intent of stopping.

Now that you were broken up, it was like seeing him in an entirely different light.

He didn’t look troubled, he looked absolutely terrifying. You didn’t watch him with concern for his wellbeing coursing through you, but instead fear and an intense desire to get very far away. He looked mindless, blue eyes cold and alight with a violent fire all at the same time, muscles spasming as he punched the guy over and over again.

Watching Top and Kelce try to get him to stop had you swallowing.

You recalled that night at the party, the night that resulted in a bruise that didn’t heal for weeks, and you wondered what could’ve possessed you to go towards him when he was like that. Your lips trembled, and your stomach churned, the beer not settling so well. The sight made you want to be sick.

You paused and blinked.

You were going to be sick.

Bunny’s attention was drawn away from the fight when you coughed, vomit spilling out of your mouth as you rushed to lean over.

“Oh my God,” she cried, grabbing your cup, her other hand coming up to rub your back.

You turned away, and she helped you walk, guiding you towards some bushes. You were shocked to find that you weren’t done, and when you were finally able to catch your breath, you felt more hands on your back.

“What happened?”

Your heart sank at the sound of Pope’s voice, and you wiped your mouth, desperately wanting that salty taste to go away.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe too much beer on an empty stomach because she just started throwing up,” Bunny explained.

You rolled your eyes at the disappointed sound Pope let out.

“The first night out since you’re not grounded anymore and-.”

“Will you shut up?” you snapped, turning to look at your brother.

His deep frown at your tone had you swallowing, but with everything you were dealing with, you didn’t have the patience to hear whatever snarky thing he wanted to throw on top. You could feel Kie’s eyes on you from by his side, and you turned away, taking a deep breath and waiting for your stomach to settle.

“Cam and I will take her home,” Bunny, said, trying to ignore the awkward atmosphere.

“Your redheaded friend who’s been drinking all night, too? Uh uh. I don’t think so,” Pope said. “Kie can take you.”

You were going to protest when your stomach started turning again, and you reluctantly accepted that you should just call it a night. When you glanced up, your eyes met familiar blue ones, and you watched the way his gaze fell onto Pope. He seemed calmer, now, but his face was as stony as ever as Topper tried to give him some water, looking back to you.

Rafe kept his gaze connected with yours, and you swore it was like he could see right into you. You watched him take a sip, looking at you from over the rim of the cup. Looking into his eyes for the first time since the breakup didn’t make you as conflicted as you feared it might. If anything, it only made you more resolved in your decision, especially as you watched Rafe toss his cup to the ground and take a step towards you.

You turned away just as Topper placed a hand on his chest.

“Let’s go,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and hurrying to get off of the beach.

You were home alone when Pope came storming into the house, slamming the door so hard that it actually made you jump. You were getting something to drink in the kitchen, not having a taste for much of anything lately, and when he breezed by, you could tell by his demeanor that something was wrong. Maybe you still felt like crap for snapping at him the other night, and that’s why you followed after him, calling his name.

He ignored you at first, but when it became clear that you were choosing now to play the concerned sister, he stopped and sighed. He threw his head back, just standing there for a moment as he seemingly gathered his thoughts. At least, that was what you had assumed…until he turned around.

Your sharp inhale was loud in the house.

“What the hell?” you breathed, reaching for him. “What happened?”

There was still a bit of blood on his lip, and the knot on the side of his head was as nasty as it was obvious. You watched Pope’s jaw clench, taking a deep breath as he licked his lips, licking the blood away.

“Rafe and Topper jumped me.”

You felt like you got the air knocked out of you.

Pope’s words hung in the air, and your hands fell, mouth falling open. You stared at him in disbelief, not quite processing what he’d said despite how clearly he’d spoken them. The longer your mind lingered on them, the sicker you felt, and you took a step back.

“What?” you breathed.

You could feel a burning behind your eyes, and you struggled to swallow, a dangerous cocktail of emotions flowing through you. Rafe? Topper? Your mind went to Midsummers and the small argument you’d had with Rafe when him and his friends had jumped JJ. You remembered your anger and disappointment with his actions, but you also remembered your concern when it came to your brother. Rafe had assured you they were unfounded, promising you that he’d never touch Pope…

So long as you were with him.

An angry tear escaped, and Pope mistook it’s meaning.

“I’m fine,” he sighed, shaking off his hat. “Just those assholes being assholes.”

You pressed your lips together, chest growing tight.

“Why?” you finally asked, voice thick with emotion.

It didn’t matter what reason Pope gave you. You knew why.

“JJ sort of got them back for what happened at Midsummers and well…you know how it goes around here…”

You clenched your jaw, knowing that was bullshit. Rafe could’ve easily retaliated against JJ, but no. He chose to take it out on Pope for a reason, and when Pope finally disappeared into his room, more tears fell. You went into your own room, stomach churning at the thought of Rafe jumping Pope just to hurt you. You sniffed, pressing your hand to your mouth as you made your way to your bathroom, dreading the salty taste along the inside of your cheeks.

You leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths and forcing yourself to calm down. Your stomach still turned, but it was lessening some, and you finally let out a sob. It didn’t feel real, none of it, and you slid to the floor.

It didn’t make sense to you, and you didn’t know if you were just that blind or if Rafe was just that good. You’d known of Rafe’s reputation long before that night he’d picked you up, but you weren’t crazy to think he’d become better, especially with the way he was treating you. He’d been so sweet, and while not perfect, he’d been good to you. Even that night at Midsummers, you’d believed him when he said he wouldn’t touch Pope.

It had never occurred to you that he would should you ever broke up.

Why would it? It was such a cruel thing to do, and a fresh wave of tears spilled over. You thought about his hand in your hair, holding you under water. You thought about his voice on the phone that day, so cold and unlike what you thought he was. Thinking about his words still made you shudder, and you brought your knees to your chest. You were realizing that this Rafe, the Rafe who was an enemy, the Rafe who got mean when he didn’t get his way…was a stranger to you.

It was like night and day, and it terrified you…because you didn’t know him, at all.

You wiped your face, trying to hold back more tears when you glanced up.

You didn’t register what you were seeing, at first, but the more you stared at it, the more you frowned. You felt your heart skip a beat, and suddenly, Pope was the last thing on your mind. For the first time in weeks, over a month really, you felt numb. You finally felt numb.

Your pads were on top of your toilet like they always were…

…and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d used one.

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