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#like Ransom and Reader probably
gremlingottoosilly · 6 months
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What lies within (Tentacle!Monster!Konig x fem!Reader)
It's mating season for monster hybrids. Unfortunately for you, the colonel didn't have time to dump his eggs everywhere. TW and tags: Non-con, size difference, oviposition, monster hybrids, forced breeding, belly bulging, yandere Konig, possessive Konig, tentacles, double penetration. Word count: 3278
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The brave new world of opportunities for monsters.
The illustrious life for those who are not afraid of being a hunter in the billion flocks of weak, stupid prey. 
There are endless possibilities for the ones who decide to serve in the various armed forces specifically tailored to monsters. 
And loads of other bullshit that König had to endure every day on the briefs. Propaganda, advertisement, and weak attempts to make a new generation of monster hybrids abandon their old ways and join either army or contracting forces, making them glorified mercenaries. Jaided and disillusioned, the colonel long abandoned the thoughts that service can be fun, that it can bring him something other than money and occasional bullets in various places. 
“Most inclusive workplaces for monsters,” his ass. They were fed bullshit on top of other bullshit, and he is already tired of war – but there isn’t much he can do besides it. The payment is nice, he gets to eat his enemies and tears through entire units of squishy, weak humans who make perfect snacks from their useless fucking bodies. 
— So. Abandoned by your team, ja? 
Unfortunately for him, sometimes war operations meant that he was not supposed to eat prisoners – he was supposed to take them, hoard them into rounds, and send them for either ransom or whatever higher-ups wanted to do with them. Sometimes, it’s torture for information, sometimes, it’s attempts to bring them to their side if they are worth it. 
Sometimes, he just looked in the eyes of a soft, squishy little prey and just couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. 
Well…” sometimes” is a very big word. He had never once thought about keeping the POW for himself before he met this stupidly beautiful, soft nurse with a perfect face, nice pair of legs in that ugly baggy uniform, and the most beautiful scent in the entire…
He never thought of keeping the prisoner for himself before he met you. 
It was supposed to be an easy mission for you – he can see it from your lack of normal armor. Either you had no idea that KorTac had their own plans for whatever you wanted to do here, or your contractor is extremely cheap. He likes either way – you smell like a human, and he likes dumb humans who would make perfect victims. You smell and look weak, trembling, perfect fucking pray for someone like him. König didn’t feel the need to transform for this battle. Your team ran away like a bunch of bunnies before he ever fired his first shot, but he could still feel his tentacles slowly stir under his hood. He can feel his body transforming without the need to – and he feels the pressure in his lower stomach. 
When was the last time he was able to put his eggs somewhere other that cold, unforgiving air? 
Even the bagginess of your uniform doesn’t obscure him from looking at the sway of your hips, at the perfect surface of your tummy, and feeling the smell of your ripe, fertile body. Having a strong sense of smell always came like a curse in the team of monsters where showering after a mission isn’t something that is done by many, buy König can appreciate his nose now – he can smell how perfect you are for breeding. How scared, too. 
Poor thing, probably terrified of his. König knows how he looks, even in his human form – tall, broad, bigger than any man you saw before, so much more muscular that even with your military training as a combat nurse, he could still break your spine with one hand. His size is something that made it impossible to find a partner normal ways – monsters are naturally too dominant to ever submit to him, and humans are simply too scared to deal with someone like him. He isn’t surprised, no – if anything, he understands completely. 
You sob, your voice is melting with incomprehensible pleas and little whines. You are shaking under him – a poor, dumb girl who wasn’t aware that her best shot at surviving was to try and shoot his crotch off before he pulled a gun out of your hands. 
— Pl…please, you can’t…you can’t do this! It’s a crime, I was on medical duty, it’s…
König likes humans because they are dumb. Civilian humans are even cuter – run around, thinking their lives are protected by sets of laws and rules that, in fact, don’t apply to the strong – and you, in your full half-military half-civvie glory, are fucking perfect. You whine and sib, tears running down your face when he presses you under him. Your hand hits the hard rocks of the ground, and he shifts slightly, dragging you closer to a softer patch of grass. 
He laughs when you are trying to scramble from under him, your lower half is pinned by his weight – he is surprised you can still move. You move your pelvis, trying to get out – and he moans quietly when you start rubbing your crotch against his. You freeze, fear spreading on your face – god, he missed that feeling. When was the last time he got to actually breed someone? Or even just have sex with someone as cute? 
— You really think so, Schatzen? That rules will protect you? 
He moves his crotch against yours, making you sob a bit more. You’re sweet and compliant, and he just loves breaking soft things like you – it’s a desire to break, to destroy, to make you his. He knows that, technically, forcing himself on women from enemy lines really is a war crime. He also knows that if he’d managed to breed you with his eggs, monster laws would never allow you to separate after mating. 
Besides, it's not like he is going to let you go, so you could tell on him. König never believed in love at first sight, but you would be a perfect vessel for his eggs and his tentacles – what else would he need from a wife, right? 
— You’re pretty. 
He says plainly, his hand goes to rub your chest through the fabric of your uniform. You won’t need those ugly clothes anymore – he’d make sure to buy you something nice and frail that won’t make you too uncomfortable to carry his eggs. Maybe a soft, frail dress or some of those cute maternity clothes when your body starts to change. He can’t wait to see his breasts swelling with milk – even if his unfertilized eggs won’t need it, he certainly would. Even if you’re too weak to handle his load, he’d make sure to get you a nice, firm plug and keep you on his tentacles constantly. 
You start to sob even more when you understand what he is trying to do – when he rips your pants to reveal the softness of your cunt and the fragility of your [anties, you actually manage to push your legs against his dick a good few times. He is too aroused to notice – if anything, he likes how fiery you are, your little yells and loud screams for help. No one will come to aid you – he barked the orders for his soldiers to go and fuck around somewhere else while he was busy devouring his little prize. Colonel doesn’t like having an audience – if anything, he is saving your dignity right now. If anything, he is remarkably soft when he pushes one of his long, red tendrils down your body, massaging your pussy through your panties. 
You’re moist already when his tentacle finds a way to your labia. What a slutty nurse you are – getting off the enemy colonel breeding you in the middle of the battlefield. Your tears mean nothing when he is too busy massaging and pressing and playing with your sticky, puffy folds – poor girl, so deprived of attention that even the weird texture of his extensions only fuels your desire. 
So fragile, so perfect – and so, so wet that your adorable white panties are already become transparent, sticking to your soft pussy. When he takes you home, he’d make sure to forbid you from wearing any underwear at all – you would meet him dressing in nothing but his shirts, a hand on your tummy to support the weight of your eggs. Walls of your pussy clenching on the plug he’d make to insert in you every morning. 
— Don’t…please, don’t, n…
You whine ever so sweetly, trying to close your legs so he won’t be able to touch you. It’s futile, just one of his tendrils is ten times stronger than your hands. He gets through your closed legs, buried in the moistness of your sweet, perfect pussy. You taste heavenly – just one minute enough to make him hungrier than before. König’s mating season was often postponed due to constant adrenaline rushes and things he takes to enhance his battle abilities – but he can feel eggs pressing at the inside of his body now, preparing to be released in the sweet heat of your body. But he has to prepare you first. 
— Quiet now. It won’t hurt unless you want it to. 
His tendrils are coming to moisten your pussy even more – sweet numbness filling your body from the lower stomach and right to your head. Knowing that you must feel dizzy and just a tad bit dumb, König can’t wait but chuckle. He likes you empty-headed, adorable dumbness in your eyes. He knows that he doesn’t know you, that you might even already have a boyfriend on the civil side of your life – but he doesn’t care. His mind doesn’t easily fall for just anyone,  but if he saw a perfect vessel in you, there is no escape. At least he is nice enough to be gentle. 
You whimper slightly when he pushes the first tendril inside of you. Too impatient to use his hands or tongue to make you feel a bit more at ease – after all, you are still on the battlefield, even if your friends abandoned you to get picked up by KorTac. Too impatient to soothe you with his words, he uses one of his smaller, thinner tentacles to push your pussy walls, make you squeeze him and milk for all his worth. You are wet, but not enough to take him without crying. Hot and soft, the cold texture of his extensions contrasts with your body too much – you are shaking, he can feel slight vibrations at the soft walls of yours. 
Fitting him like a glove, too perfect to exist – he just wants to take you with him, to flip you on your tummy and push all of his tentacles inside. You’re tight and warm, you make him go crazy from desire. It’s weird how a strong and mighty colonel can be so charmed by just some enemy nurse, but when you whine slightly and try to adjust your body to fit more comfortably under him, he just knows that he has to take you. That, no matter how much you are crying and praying for him to stop, you want to be used by him. Perhaps, with certain training, you would want his eggs, too. 
Second tendril caught you by surprise. Just when you started to adjust to the weird, slimy feeling of something writhing inside of you, spreading your tight walls around it and clashing with the heat of your insides, a second, bigger one started to press on your clenched folds. You wanted to beg, to ask him to stop – you’re too tight for this, too small, you would never be able to take even just one of his tentacles, you were…
But his tendrils press easily, he accesses lube spreading between your legs. You are sobbing from the feeling, and he is laughing. His hand goes to rip the upper part of your clothing, revealing your midriff. Fingers pressing on your tummy, just to feel his tentacles inside – he laughs when the skin of your stomach is tensed up, revealing the outlines of his extension. God, he can’t wait to make your body swell from him. Even though the eggs are not bearing his children, he can imagine you and a bunch of little ones – you’d look much better like this than pretending to be a nurse. Honestly, what were you even trying to do on the battlefield? 
— Stay still, ja? 
— Too much! Please, n…no more…
— Poor thing. You’ll feel so much better after I add the third one. 
He knows that he is overstepping a bit, that your body isn’t used to taking something as big as his tentacles – but König also knows that his pre-cum makes you feel dizzy warm. Acting like a natural aphrodisiac, you won't be able to resist relaxing under him. The lubricant is enough to allow his other tentacle to force himself in your ass – he isn’t going to breed that hole yet, but it doesn't mean that he can’t use it. 
He groans loudly when your asshole clenches around him – he had to stretch you quite a bit, that sweet numbness of his precum isn’t making you relaxed enough to take him whole, but he is managing, one agonizing centimeter after another. At the point you’re out of breath, with your face all flushed, he already knows he fucking won – he knows that you, poor, fragile thing, isn’t going anywhere. He would say that he feels horrible about forcing you like this – but this is the start of a new, better life for you. Being the bride of a monster of his rank is a dream for any lowly human like you. Can go as far as to say you’re lucky he ever laid his eyes on you. 
— Stop, please…’s too much. 
— You feel good, Katzen. Relax, and you’ll be even better. 
— I don’t…please, just let me go, I…
— Is this your first time with a monster? 
— Yes. 
— Gut. Would break you in for me. 
He laughs at your whimpers, his hand goes to cradle your face in an almost soft expression. He gently presses his fingers across your skin, making you all nice and warm for him – he wants to kiss you all over, but the only thing he can do in his more monstrous form is to press one of his shorter tentacles against your lips, mocking the way normal people kiss. You sob, but he presses the tip on your mouth, passing it through your teeth – you would feel better after ingesting his pre-cum, can even clench around him so more, chasing your own pleasure. 
König wants you to feel good, so he presses his hand against your face, allowing you to tremble and cry as much as you want. He wants to be nice to you, so his other hand presses on your clit, finding the tense bud and breaking the nothingness between your legs. You tremble even more when he starts to spread your folds around his fingers, both of his tentacles working to milk your holes and spread you as much as possible. 
He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when both of the tendrils working on your pussy suddenly change their direction – they start to spread your walls instead of just fucking it. You feel exposed and vulnerable, he can see the pink flesh and glossiness of your cunt. It’s embarrassing for you, and he knows it – but god, you’re too fucking perfect to pass. 
You don’t even manage to ask him what he is doing when you feel something much larger pressing against your pussy. The biggest of his tentacles – almost as thick as an arm, pushing inside of you. He had a purpose, a desire to do something with you that you could never understand – silly humans know nothing about his biological need to push his eggs somewhere, of course, but you’re just fucking perfect. Too perfect to pass on this opportunity. 
You plead and cry when he presses further, a little bump on your tummy is obvious now, with each centimeter of his tendril pushing. When he finally bottoms inside of you, pressing directly against your cervix, you are too fucked out to even think. 
It’s painful, you think. Three thick tentacles roam inside your pussy, pushing and grinding against your gummy, tight walls – and another one of his extensions in your ass, writhing and massaging your insides. 
It’s pleasurable, you feel. The tentacles are uneven, cold, each little bump makes you cry out from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling is something you could never achieve with a normal dick. He cradles your face and chuckles softly when you moan and cry at the same time when he gently presses his red tendril against your soft lips, and you part them because you don’t want to resist anymore. Because you can’t resist anymore. 
— So good for me. Such a good girl, liked being fucked by the enemy. 
— I don’t like it! He laughs at your misery, pushing his tentacles back only to fuck you harder. He can feel the tension multiply in his stomach – he feels the movement of eggs forming from inside and pushing down the biggest one of his tendrils. 
When you first feel the pressure of an egg in your pussy, you want to scream. 
You scratch on his hands like a wild cat, clenching on him like crazy. If he didn’t see horror and shock on your face, he’d think you wanted him. You are tight, tighter than you were before – your pussy is closing around him, not letting him go, and he can only smile to himself when he feels every little bump sending electric shocks right into your core when you feel his eggs traveling from the start of his tendrils down, to your soft, welcoming womb. 
God, you will look perfect, all swollen and helpless – he can bring you a fucking collar, maybe push you on his lap and parade you as his precious wife for everyone to see. His scent lingers on your body, no matter if you want it or not. Silly human, you try to fight him like you didn’t lose the moment you let him pin your body. So perfect, he thinks of where you were before he found you. How many partners do you have, and how well would you play the role of his little breeding machine.
 He massages your tummy, with each egg taking its place in your womb. Soothes tense skin and whispers sweet promises in your ear when you cry and try to push him away. So perfect, so sweet for him – he doesn’t know the fuck he lived without you. 
When the last egg takes its place, making you bulge from all the weight inside of you, he can finally calm himself down enough to bring his human form partially. When he finally retracted his tentacles from your tired, sensitive body, not forgetting to press against your clit a good few times to prolong your unwanted, exhausting orgasm, he could finally press a kiss on your lips. 
You’re a mess – torn clothes, covered in cum and thick transparent slime, trembling and crying softly. You close your pussy around every one of his eggs like a good girl, and he knows you would be a perfect mating partner – but god, you need a good shower and soft mattress so he can try to fuck you again in his human form, and steal all the hugs and silly affections he wanted. 
— Will you let me go? 
He laughs, picking you up swiftly. So fragile in his hands, he doesn’t even want to think about letting you roam freely. 
— Of course not, Schatzen. Just get used to it, ja? 
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psuedosugu · 3 months
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Ohhhh my golly I saw your Vox x daughter reader an it got me thinking now HEAR ME OUT….what if reader got bored on day an just went for a walk and somehow came across Alastor, now let’s say Alastor’s a lil confused like he never knew Vox had a daughter and readers like *sad sigh* “I’d be surprised if anyone knew” an Alastors all fatherly to her at first it was to get dirt on Vox without reader realizing but in the end he just liked hanging out with her. Eventually Vox noticed how his daughter is gone half the time but reader just convinces her dad that she’s always home and how HES the one always away. Change the ending how you see fit or do whatever you like but UGH I love your writing stay hydrated and eat wellll🩵
assjjjkkj thank youuu the amount of feedback ive gotten on this acc that ive only been posting on for like 3 days is insane, anyways this is such an interesting idea omgee
cw: reader having some emotionally absent daddy issues
fem reader
pt 1 here
ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ
͙͘͡★ || so you had just gone out on an innocent walk, right?
͙͘͡★ || well, technically snuck out since your dad doesn’t like you going out by yourself.
͙͘͡★ || theres bad people out there! what if you got kidnapped or something?
͙͘͡★ || no one recognizes you, of course, since he doesn’t really talk about you let alone shows you to the public.
͙͘͡★ || you appreciate him for that, you guess, it must be annoying to not be able to go anywhere without a bunch of microphones in your face.
͙͘͡★ || you just wish he was around more! he barely makes any time for you and yeah, his work is super important and time consuming but you’re his daughter!
͙͘͡★ || lost in thought, you bump into a dude in the sidewalk.
͙͘͡★ || “whoops! excuse me, ma’am!”, he says in a weird, static-ish voice.
͙͘͡★ || your skeleton almost jumps out of your skin when you look up.
͙͘͡★ || the radio demon, the guy that your dad has had beef with since you were little
͙͘͡★ || you just stare at him with a “ :o “ look on your face, not knowing if you should run or not.
“little girl, are you, um, alright?” he stares down at you, slightly confused.
“im…uhhh…im okay!”
“you’ve heard of me, i suppose.”
“i guess…. my dad doesn’t really like you.”
“and who might your father be, hm?”
“yk the tv dude? the one thats, like, everywhere? yeah, that him.”
“hmm…interesting…i wasn’t aware he had a daughter…”
“well, he doesn’t really talk about…..”
͙͘͡★ || at this point you stop blabbing mid sentence, realizing you probably shouldn’t have said all of that to his sworn enemy.
͙͘͡★ || what if he does kidnap you and holds you for ransom?
͙͘͡★ || but he doesn’t do that, surprisingly.
͙͘͡★ || he asks you why you’re out alone so late and you shrug, saying that your dad wasn’t really there to stop you.
͙͘͡★ || you were naive and alastor was planning to use that to his advantage, not to hurt you, but to hurt vox.
͙͘͡★ || what would he think when he found out that his own daughter was buddy-buddy with his sworn enemy?
͙͘͡★ || he’d feel like a failure of a father, and thats what alastor wanted, to get under his skin.
͙͘͡★ || you guys walked while you told him everything, about him being away all the time, about you feeling lonely, while he nodded along
͙͘͡★ || you guys even stopped at one of those old timey bar places and bought you a milkshake!
͙͘͡★ || eventually you headed home, your dad hadn’t noticed you had been gone which figures.
͙͘͡★ || this became routine, you hung out with alastor and he gave you advice and stuff. you thought that if he had an ulterior motive it would’ve shown itself by now but no, it hadn’t.
͙͘͡★ || alastor himself had started to forget why he had even started all of this. he found himself enjoying your company and actually caring about you.
͙͘͡★ || after a while vox started to notice that he’s been seeing you less than he usually does.
͙͘͡★ || i mean, the tower is big but cmon! there were days where he would barely see you at all! where were you going?
͙͘͡★ || he confronted you about it at dinner one day.
“[name], dearest, i cant help but notice that i haven’t been seeing you around much lately. what’ve you been up to?”
͙͘͡★ || you pause, looking up from your food.
“i, um, dont know what you’re talking about.”
͙͘͡★ || he furrows his (virtual) eyebrows.
“is that so?”
“mhm!”
͙͘͡★ || vox is reasonably skeptical and resorts to spying on you through your smartwatch because of course you have a voxtech branded smartwatch!
͙͘͡★ || hes absolutely livid when he finds out who you’ve been sneaking out to be with and he’s waiting for you when you get home.
͙͘͡★ || you’re indefinitely grounded until he says so and he starts tracking where you go in the tower.
͙͘͡★ || he knows that its a violation of privacy and stuff but dont you see that he’s trying to protect you? alastor is dangerous! he doesn’t get how you didn’t see it earlier.
͙͘͡★ || alastor does succeed on what he set out to do, though. vox is distraught, feeling like a horrible father. he even vents to valentino about it out of all the people!
“-i mean, what kind of father doesn’t even notice their own child sneaking out in broad daylight every day? i should’ve paid more attention to her, im a failure!”
“mhm….yeah….”
͙͘͡★ || val obviously doesn’t give a shit.
͙͘͡★ || after not bumping into you for a while and seeing the up in vox slandering him online, alastor figures what happened.
͙͘͡★ || he’s glad that he succeeded in his mission to bother vox further but does miss talking to you.
͙͘͡★ || vox does vow to make more time for you and be a more attentive dad, so i guess some good comes out of this.
ִֶָ 𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ
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babyjakes · 5 months
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | mutual masturbation
pairing | best friend!ransom drysdale x reader
warnings | very innocent!reader, bordering on little!reader. soft!ran <333 specifically soft for reader. ddlg undertones tbh (no use of the word daddy but ran is daddy af and also tells reader to "be a big girl" multiple times.) reader is having orgasm troubles/anxiety. mutual masturbation (clit rubbing, jerking off through pants.) subtle humiliation vibes (not verbalized.) praise and encouragement. delayed orgasm. he steps in and helps/finishes her off. he also comes in his pants lol. they come together! :D
word count | 886
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it all starts when he overhears you on the phone with your friend, admitting you’ve never been able to make yourself come 😭
it somehow leads to him laying you out on your bed, tugging playfully at your jean shorts. “c’mon, baby. i promise, i wont make it weird. i just wanna help you”
and he’s your beeeest friend, your very best friend in the whole wide world, and you know he’s got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to this sort of thing, so you try to swallow down your humiliation and go along with it
he kneels attentively in front of you as you rest back against your pillows, shyly pulling off your bottoms. he chuckles sympathetically at your cute little pastel panties with your favorite cartoon characters on them. if it were any other girl, he'd probably make fun of them, but you've always been a sweet innocent baby in his eyes so he can't help but find it endearing 💕💕
"c'mon, cutie. don't be shy, it's just me" you try to remember that he's right; it's just your ran, your safe, wonderful ran, who you've known your whole life
you squeeze your knees together as you pull off your panties. ransom's surprisingly patient with you, "let me see, silly. can you show me how you've been doing it? i can't help unless i know what the problem is"
it takes a bit more coaxing before your knees finally fall to either side of you, revealing your perfect little petals which instantly have ran giving you the biggest heart eyes 🥺💖 "oh baby, you're so pretty down there. aww, are you a little wet, sweetheart? it's okay, don't be embarrassed" as you're squirming softly in front of him
your hands are so clumsy as you try to figure out where to even begin. he's right: you're wet (though you swear this isn't turning you on!!!) your fingers fumble around as you lamely begin poking and prodding at your leaky hole
ran raises an eyebrow at you, not sure whether or not you're playing dumb or just really this clueless. "that's it?" he asks in disbelief, clearly not impressed. you sigh, trying not to hide your face in your hands from embarrassment. "what about your clit?" noticing how you immediately grow more squirmy at his question, he calls your bluff- "come on, y/n. be a big girl and show me" 🥲🥲
you finally bring one hand up to begin rubbing carefully over your little button. you fail to hold in a soft gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure, earning a smile from the man sitting in front of you. "there you go. keep going, princess," he encourages you
as the warm, fuzzy feelings grow, you find the courage to spread yourself out a little with your other hand, giving you better access to your swelling bundle of nerves. ran's grin grows as he watches it growing and pulsating beneath your rubs
"shit, sweetheart. so fucking cute when you play with yourself like that," he curses softly, bringing one of his own hands down to begin palming himself through his pants. seeing him getting worked up by you only turns you on more. you don't even notice when your juices begin leaking down onto your bedsheets 🥲
you become more vocal, holding back fewer of your sweet little moans and whimpers. the noises you're making are clearly driving ran crazy, his pace over his impressive bulge quickening as his face flushes red. "fuck, just like that. keep rubbing that pretty little button for me, baby. look at you, you're fucking soaked"
your fingers grow faster over your throbbing clit, your breaths becoming more labored as you feel pressure beginning to build in your tummy. as soon as you recognize what's about to happen, a familiar sense of doubt hits you as your motions begin to falter. "r-ran," you choke out, big eyes looking up at him for help.
he's immediately leaning down with a worried look on his face, quickly recognizing the problem. "no, no baby, it's okay," he tries to cheer you on, "just keep going, you're almost there"
"can't do it," you frown as your poor clit twitches helplessly after being abandoned so abruptly
"yeah you can, come on. let me help," you can't even think to speak up or stop him before he's reaching down, using his own fingers to resume the stimulation. for whatever reason, you lay back and take it. "spread yourself open for me, sweetheart. just like you did before, there," he hums in approval as your hands fumble to do as he instructed. he keeps his pace steady over your hardened nub, watching as you quickly near the edge once more
"now come on, baby. be a big girl and come for me," with him towering over you, one hand gripping himself shamelessly through his pants while the other works your burning button just right, he's able to coax an orgasm out of you with just a simple command
"there it is, that's my girl," he's beaming proudly as you're finally given your release. the sight of you losing control under his simple touch and order is too much for him to handle; he comes right there in his jeans with a loud groan 😌
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zep-zep-blog · 3 months
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If I had a nickel for each time I made a oneshot based off a prompt from @timeslugarts I would have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it's weird it happened twice.🧍🏼‍♂️
Vox x gn!reader
Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort
Cw: Talk of sex, mentions of feeling not good enough
The last red rose🌹
Reader feels like Vox is ashamed or embarrassed by their relationship and a drunk Valentino only solidifies those thoughts.
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You were Vox's prized diamond, a rose surrounded by thorns, the last unicorn in his eyes. You were kind, thoughtful, funny, tons of stuff the average sinner wasn't. He went to several lengths to make sure your beauty was safe and protected from the several news channels and overlords that were looking in. Unfortunately, his actions came off as him being ashamed of your relationship with you. It made you feel like you would never be enough to be seen with him in public.
Valentino had made another borderline porn film and Vox chose to go to the red carpet premiere with Velvette to support his friend and fellow overlord. You sat in your shared bed, wanting to stay in and not watch the smutty movie Val produced. The silk sheets rubbed comfortably against your skin as you settled into a more comfy position. Watching as the camera panned over other famous demons, hellborn, and overlords. The camera then focuses on Vox, bringing a subconscious smile to your face as you see him answer questions and look into the camera.
"Are you seeing anyone?" The journalist asks, shoving the mic into his face. Before he could answer a drunk Valentino takes it and giggles, "We are like rabbits." This made you sit up, shocked as he went on and on about different bedroom acts. This felt like a red, hot iron strike your heart. How dare he just let him speak like that when he knows you're watching. All for an image to sinners that he said were less important, less worthy of his time, less worthy of him.
His laugh was what broke you, that nonchalant chuckle he made when he tried to escape awkward situations. Warm tears started to roll, muffled sobs escaping your mouth as you covered it with your hand. You were angry. The man you loved, cherished, and planned on marrying one day just betrayed you after his actions made you think you were nothing more than some toy he could play house with.
When he comes home he's shit-faced drunk, removing his jacket and throwing it to the floor, expecting to cuddle with you. Unfortunately, he was only met with a cold bed and messy sheets, a clear sign you were here, but you were nowhere to be seen. This sobered him up a bit, he did everything to protect you, but he failed. That is until he found the note, at first he thought it was a ransom note or something, but it was your handwriting. He read the scribbled ink;
'I went somewhere else. As I know you're probably embarrassed by me, so I hope you're happy with Valentino'
This shook him to his core, he tried everything to keep you out of the public eye for your safety only to be the reason you left. He crumpled the note, cursing under his breath. He did this and now he has to fix it. He collected all the photos he had and wrote a script up for his nightly talk show.
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He addressed the journalist's question and Valentino's response. Stating that his relationship with Val was only friendly and platonic and that he was very much in love with someone else. Pictures of your first date, birthdays, holidays, even one of Vox sleeping faded in and out slowly on the screen as he talked about his genuine feelings and how he felt about your relationship, and his reasons to keep you hidden.
He talked about how your nose scrunched when you giggled and how you held his hand when you felt nervous.
"I fucked up. I tried so hard to keep you out of the camera that I pushed you away. I know words can't fix actions, but please come back to me so I can make things up to you. Please." He said while looking directly into the camera.
This was broadcasted all over hell, even on the radio in hopes you would hear it and hear it you did. You had went to Charlie for advice and help, sobbing on her couch when the broadcast came on. You were touched, hell genuinely thinking about fully forgiving him, but a small part of you was still angry. It took you to leave for him to wake up to address the rumors of his and Val's relationship that spread months ago and finally speak the truth about your role in his life. You ultimately decided to go back, apologizing for leaving. "Darling, don't apologize. If anyone should apologize, it should be me. I made you feel like nothing, but you're everything to me." He stated, hugging you tightly when you walked into his office.
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Cameras clicked as the limo rolled up, shouts of questions and excitement started up as the door opened and Vox got out, giving the cameras his signature smile before turning back and holding out his hand towards you. You grab his hand nervously, stepping out and giving a shy smile to the crowd. Finally, you both felt like you were his only thought.
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Carpal tunnel core <3 /j Hope yall enjoy (^^)
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coryosbaby · 10 months
Note
Can you give me something with barry from obx x innocent!reader and she's like rafe's little Sister and he like tells rafe that she needs to stay with him until he gets ALL his money plsss girls I'm deprived of my word porn 😫 ( Add some smut pleaseeeeeeee )
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Honey <🧡 >
Barry (Outer Banks)/reader
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a/n: Barry is dark asf in this so if that’s not ur vibe u can request again 🫶🏻 but anyways he’s so hot + I’m picturing s3 Barry 🫦
Warning: slight dubcon, kidnapping, blackmail, mention of guns and drug use (reader gets high), slight age gap? But it’s not really important + the reader is of age // forced oral (m receiving), throatfucking, fingering, the word ‘bitch’ a lot, pussy slapping, p n v, dumbification, loss of virginity, sir kink, sub! Reader, dom! Barry
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“Please let me go!”
Your voice is desperate, as Barry shoves you inside of his home. You almost trip over your Mary Jane platforms when your foot hits a step wrong, but Barry catches you with one of his strong arms and pulls you up.
“You know a deal’s a deal, sweet thing’.”
His voice has a slight southern drawl, and you squeak when he pushes you down onto the couch. “Now stay your ass right there.”
You don’t even know how you got into this situation. One minute you’re having drinks with a few friends from your private school, and then the next minute you’re getting dragged away by your brother’s drug dealer. You don’t know exactly what he means by deal. You had never made one with him.
You two had spoken a few times when he spent his time at the Cameron residence when everyone in your family besides you and Rafe were gone. Rafe, being the untrustworthy shit that he is, surprisingly doesn’t despise you like he does your other siblings. In fact, you’ve become his favorite and most important one.
But clearly not important enough, since he’s probably got you involved in his cocaine dealing stuff.
“Did Rafe…” you watch as Barry rummages around in his kitchen cabinets, clearly paying no mind as you speak. “Did Rafe make a deal with you? Or something? I-I have money, I have lot of it—“
“Thirty thousand?”
The number makes your eyebrows raise in surprise. Thirty thousand dollars.. for coke? A“few lines”, as Rafe had called it. Yeah right.
“I-I don’t—“
“Well until then, I’d advise you to keep that stupid little mouth shut.”
His demand scares you, a bit. In fact, this whole situation does. Barry had always been nice to you. Maybe a bit too nice, if anyone from outside the two of you saw the situation (Rafe certainly did). But regardless, you don’t know what’s going to happen if your brother doesn’t get that money.
Barry seems to finally find what he’s looking for inside a wooden drawer. When he pulls it out, it’s a gun.
Bile rises in your throat when you see the weapon, the safety off and, you assume, packed with bullets. He throws it down onto the table in front of you.
“See that?” He asks. You nod heavily, tears beginning to well in your eyes.
“Yes sir.”
You say it dumbly. You don’t know what else to say. Barry’s grin is wide when the words leave your lips.
“You try to run,” Barry starts. His tone shouldn’t be so tantalizing, but it is. “And I’ll use it. So don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
You nod, numb with fear. Barry picks up the gun and moves around the table to sit beside you. He’s exponentially close, his shoulder touching yours as he leans back against the fabric of the couch.
You don’t know what to do, really. What exactly are you supposed to do when your brother’s drug dealer is holding you for ransom? But you play with the hem of your skirt as Barry reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a bag of shiny white powder.
Your face scrunches up and you shiver. He uses his fingers to make a sloppy trail of cocaine on the hilt of the gun. You expect him to do the line he had created, but instead he just shrugs and stares at you for a moment with a glazed look.
“Why don’t you take some?“
You don’t think it’s a request. Your bottom lip catches in between your teeth. You sniffle.
“I don’t want to.”
“Cmon, now,” his tone is like honey but you can hear the threat. “Be a good girl.”
You look down at the drug, stark white against the metal of the shiny weapon and back to him, but you figure you have no choice. You just hope and pray that the addict gene didn’t make its way to you like it did Rafe as you press your nose against the gun. It’s right over Barry’s lap; if you weren’t so plagued with innocence, you would notice how close your face is to his aching prick as you peer over his lap. You jump when you feel the man’s hands twist themselves in your hair.
“Atta girl.”
The drug isn’t something you’re used to. You’re definitely not the type to drink, let alone do coke; but snorting it doesn’t seem as hard as you expected. Your brain is a little fuzzy once you lift your head up.
Barry puts the gun down on the table, and pours some more coke onto the glass in front of him. He snorts up a line, and lets out a low groan. And then he moves back and his hands move to your neck. He twists your strands of hair with two long fingers.
“You’re a pretty little thing, you know that?”
You flush. All the while your high begins to kick in, and you exhale shakily. Your thighs clench together, and you don’t really understand why. “T-Thank you..”
Barry chuckles. His lips are really close to your ear and you notice that he smells really nice. It’s making you a bit dizzy.
“Such good manners for such a good girl.” He praises. You gulp, the feeling of his hand suddenly on your leg making you jump. The man notices, and frowns. “Cmon now, sweetness. I don’t bite.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” You squeak out. He grins, his fingers inching up higher to ghost over the inner part of your thighs.
“Think we can keep ourselves a little busy before your brother gets here, don’t you think?”
You nod, dumbly, as his fingers ghost over your Cherry print panties underneath your skirt. It’s a new sensation; you’ve never been touched like this. You’ve heard it’s what people that are married do, people that love and care for each other. You don’t think this is how you’re supposed to do it.
“W-Wait, Barry—“
But it’s too late now, because his fingers are rubbing your clit in slow, soft circles. You let out a tiny moan, your legs automatically parting against your own will. You can feel an ache bubbling up in your core, your little button starting to throb.
“You’re so wet, goddamn.”
It comes out low and throaty, and when you look down at Barry’s hand you can see that he’s palming his cock through his basketball shorts. You don’t know why, exactly, but your mouth begins to water as you watch the outline of him through the fabric.
“W-Wet?”
Barry breathes out a laugh at your innocence, giving a teasing flick to the bud by thumping it with his thumb and forefinger. You squirm, a small noise of pleasure rippling out of you.
“You’re cunt, darlin’.” He says. “It’s wet. Happens when you start thinking about dirty things.”
You frown as your wetness drips on his hand. “‘M not… ‘m not dirty! I swear!”
“I think you’re lyin’ to me… I think you are.“ His fingertip teasingly ghosts over your hole. “— but that’s okay. I like dirty girls.”
His middle finger sinks inside you to the hilt. You gasp, the sensation making your hips lift off the couch when he curls it. You moan, breathy.
“That— that feels good..”
“I know, angel. And you’re gonna take another one for me, aren’t ya?”
“I-“ you hesitate, but another swipe against your clit with Barry’s thumb has you keening against the couch. “Yeah! Yes, yes, anything, I’ll take anything!”
His forefinger slips in, next. It’s tight fit, but nothing you can’t handle. And when Barry puts you into a chokehold with one of his strong arms, he drags your body into his lap. His bulge hits your ass and you let out a mewl, his fingers never leaving you. His pace increases, his other hand moving from your throat to your skirt. He lifts it up and pulls your underwear to the side so he can watch his fingers move in and out of you.
“These panties are so cute,” he whispers into your ear. Your eyes roll back when your sopping wet cunt begins to make harsh gushing noises. “It’s too bad they’re getting ruined, huh?”
You nod, not a single thought left in your hazy brain. Your ruffle socked feet accidentally kick the table from the pleasure making your body spasm. You barely even acknowledge it, but Barry’s unused arm goes to your neck again and he holds down on each side of your throat.
“Don’t break my shit, bitch,” he growls. “You and your brother owe me enough already.”
“I-I’m sorry!” It comes out choked, scared, and dripping of pleasure all at once. His thumb moves to your clit again. You can feel something inside you building up, a wad of tension threatening to release. Your brows furrow in confusion and you become worried. What if Barry gets mad at you for feeling this way?
“S-Sir—“ your hole throbs mercilessly, face scrunched up. “Barry— think ‘m gonna.. gonna pee! S-Stop!”
“No you’re not, baby,” He chuckles. “You’re gonna cum— only good girls cum. So wet my fuckin shorts, dollface.”
Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, all of your limbs seizing up with tension. Your mind becomes foggy, and you scream as you begin to squirt all over your panties and onto Barry’s thighs.
“That’s it, honey. Shit, look at you…”
You sob, overwhelmed from all the sensation flooding your psyche. You stay against Barry, the warmth of his body bringing you comfort as your eyes droop. But you know you can’t sleep yet; you won’t allow yourself to.
Barry presses a kiss to your neck, begins gesturing for you to get up. You move up on shaky legs. And as bad as it is, you frown when his body leaves yours.
“D-Did I do something wrong, sir?”
He doesn’t reply; he simply presses his lips to yours, harsh and full of want. His strong arms go around your waist and his fingers dance along the hem of your shirt. He moves the fabric up, and up, until your bra is the only thing left on your upper half. You let him do it.
He palms your breasts and you gasp at the sensation. You’ve always been a bit sensitive there.
“Take this off,” he says, gesturing to the cups holding your tits in place. You obey, shyly in clipping your bra and revealing your puffy nipples to him. His mouth goes down to suckle one of the buds into his mouth. He hums around it, scrapes his teeth against the sensitive nerves and then begins unzipping your skirt.
“Any guy ever touched you?” He asks, as your soaked panties become the only thing covering your body. You’re incredibly shy, now.
“No— no one has.”
“Good.” And then he’s taking your panties off, sliding them down your legs and leaving you completely in the nude. It’s invading, incredibly so, but your pussy begins to ache for another orgasm again.
“Sit back down.” Barry demands.
You obey and he sits down next to you. The material of the couch is cold against your skin as he grabs your hair and pulls you towards his body with a rough hand. You squirm, trying to find a position that makes you comfortable, and settling with facing him on your knees. He loosens the drawstring of his shorts as he looks down at you with lust glittering in his eyes. You aren’t sure where to put your hands, so you decide to rest one on Barry’s thigh and the other on the couch. He reaches into his now loosened shorts and pulls out his cock.
You gawk, the sight of a dick being an unfamiliar image to you. He’s girthy, perfectly thick and a bit long. Precum pearls at the head of him as he watches your pleading eyes. He grabs your hair, firm.
You gasp when he shoves your face against him. Your ass is up in the air now, your tits pressed flush against his thigh. His tip is wet against your cheek, smearing precum all over your nose and underneath your eyes.
“Feel that?” He purrs.
You nod, dazed. “Yeah..” your hand reaches to touch it, curiosity peaking your interest. “It’s— its really pretty.”
“Yeah?” He gathers a string of his pre onto his finger, brings it up to your face and rubs it teasingly against the opening of your lips while you busy yourself with playing with the base of him. “Get a taste, baby.”
Your face turns a deep cherry red as you shyly stick your tongue out. His arousal coats your tongue, and as disgusting as you feel you can’t help but love the taste of him.
“‘S good,” you murmur. “I— I wan’ more of it.”
“I bet you want my cum all inside, don’t you?”
Your bottom lip turns down and you cutely raise your eyebrows together. “What’s cum? You keep saying that…”
He laughs, genuinely laughs. Your stupidity is amusing to him.
“Dressing in all those short little skirts and lookin’ at me with those pouty lips and you still don’t understand what I’m saying? You really are dumb.”
You shake your head, the words “I’m not dumb” falling from your lips over and over as you lean down and lick up some more of his pre to satiate yourself. Barry’s tongue runs along his bottom lip as he watches you, a large hand going down to stroke your hair out of your face.
“Cum is the stuff that comes out when you get that really good feelin’. “ he explains. “You came earlier, so I bet that little pussy’s coated in it right now.”
You bite your lip, kitten licking his cock once more and then pulling back.
“I wanna make you cum.”
He grabs your hair and pulls you back down. “I know.”
You whine, and then he’s groaning and bucking his dripping length against your lips.
“God, I know that mouth is—“ he doesn’t even hesitate to find the opening of your mouth and slip his tip inside. The taste is odd to you, but not inherently unpleasant. He’s musky and you can smell the scent of his arousal radiating off of him. “—so goddamn good. Fuck yeah, that’s it.”
You moan around him, your mouth swallowing him up more as the weight of his aching prick makes you more and more turned on. You down him as much as you can, his girth making the corners of your glossed lips burn.
“Knew a little kook girl like you would be good at taking dick,” Barry drawls. His hips thrust against your intensely, heavy balls slapping against your chin and spit leaking down them from your gaping mouth. “Cock taste good, baby? Huh?”
The choked moan and the string of drool pooling out of your mouth and down your neck tells him all he needs to know. He chuckles. “Yeah, I bet it does. Drooling little bitch.”
You know he’s right. And as bad as it is, the humiliation that he’s bestowing upon you is pleasurable. Your wetness is dripping down your thighs at his words.
You moan, moving his hands off your head so you can move off of his cock and begin suckling his balls. He moans loud and his fingernails dig back into your scalp again. You’re desperate, desperate to feel his skin and his smell and his taste, and you’re whining while you lick his heavy sack with hard strokes of your tongue.
“God, such a sweet fuckin’ slut. You’re doin’ so good.”
You whimper, downing his cock again and gurgling around him. Your pussy is soaked, and you try to move it around on the material of the couch to get friction. Barry grins when he sees your desperation.
“Needa cum?”
You pull off of him with a pop, eyes looking up at him pleadingly. “Yes sir.”
His fingers touch your swollen clit. Teasingly, just to see you squirm as he shoves his cock in your mouth again. And when he begins to rub harshly, you begin to buck your hips against him. Your second orgasm is already nearing, and when it happens you shake and choke around his length. He gives your pussy a light slap and yanks you off of him. Your mascara is smeared, lipstick staining the edges of your mouth and your hair stuck to your forehead in messy strands. Barry pulls you up to give you another kiss. And then he pulls you onto his lap again.
And in the midst of your lips on his, you hear his phone ring.
It’s on the nightstand next to the couch. An easy reach for him, and as he grabs the phone you see the words ‘COUNTRY CLUB’ flash across the screen in bold white letters.
Your eyes widen, shaking your head as Barry chuckles out, “damn, sweetness. It’s your brother.”
“Please… d-don’t let him—“ you cry, exasperated, as Barry presses his bare cock to your entrance. “Don’t let him know what I did— please! He’ll be so mad at me…”
The older man grins as he holds you down onto his cock; not quite in just yet, but it makes you quiver thinking about him stretching you out. He mocks you with a bullying tone.
“Aww, don’t worry honey.” He coos. “I won’t tell your big brother you’ve been a bad girl. Just let me pick up this call.”
Relief almost washes over you, if it wasn’t for the fact that Barry is still pressed flush against you. It’s making it hard for you to concentrate. He presses the green button, signaling that he’s answered the call.
“Where is she.”
Rafe’s voice sounds on the other line, and he’s extremely pissed.
“Perfectly fine, country club. In fact, I think she’s having the time of her life right now” Barry quips, as if you’re not dripping down his cock with a look of shame on your face. “I just need my money..”
He pauses, watching as your eyes furrow closed and you begin to move against him. You’re lost in your own pleasure now. You can’t help it. The sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit has you clenching and aching to release. You bury your face in his neck, trying to contain your whimpers.
“Look, man,” Rafe starts. He doesn’t like the way those words spewed from Barry’s lips. It makes him uneasy.
“I’ll— I’ll get your money, okay? Just— promise me you won’t hurt her. Please.”
“Oh,” Barry lets out a laugh. “We’re far from that.”
He lifts your hips with one of his hands. His tip begins to probe your entrance You gasp as your walls sink down on him.
“In fact, I think I can drown out your little debt and set you up for another month.”
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it-happened-one-fic · 4 months
Text
Such a Privilege - Leona
Author Notes: This fic just kind of flew together while I was killing time. There isn't actually much to say about it other than I am rather pleased with how snarky some of the dialogue turned out. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ flirtation/ post Octavinelle chapter
Word Count: 1125
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Leona had a bad habit. One that you’d initially discovered when you’d been staying with him in the Savannaclaw dorm while the Octatrio had held Ramshackle dorm for ransom. You had not, however, realized exactly how bad his habit was until more recently.
The issue was quite simple. Leona got cuddly when he was sleepy, and the problem only increased tenfold when he was actually asleep.
When you’d been staying in his room at Savannaclaw, it hadn’t really been that big of a deal. It had just meant that, after moving from the couch to his bed due to Grim’s bad habit of scratching things in his sleep and Leona’s declaration that his couch was not getting destroyed by your talking cat, you’d had to get used to waking up in the Housewarden’s embrace. 
Which wasn’t exactly an unpleasant thing considering this was Leona you were dealing with. After all, he was surprisingly good at giving some of the best hugs, and said hugs were usually impossible to receive.
The two of you’d had an unspoken agreement that neither of you would speak of the nightly cuddles during that entire time, and everything had been fine. Delightful, even.
But then, after everything had been resolved and you were back in Ramshackle, you’d taken to studying in the botanical garden near Leona’s napping spot.
You’d grown fond of the lion beastman in an odd sort of way during your stay with him, and you didn’t actually get to see him very often, so it had seemed like a good plan. You got to spend time with Leona and had a quiet place to study. What more could a Prefect want?
Truthfully speaking, you hadn’t even noticed when the young man had begun creeping your way. Growing steadily closer until it was too late.
Arms wrapped around your waist, steadily tightening as you realized, far too late, what was happening. Leona’s head pressed first against your hip and then, with a disgruntled snort, shifted until your lap had been claimed as his makeshift pillow.
You stared in surprise at the now relaxed young man, who seemed perfectly content now that you were officially his cushion.
But his content came at a steep price. You weren’t going to get any worthwhile studying done with Leona snoozing away on your lap, and you were most certainly trapped.
Waking Leona was no easy task, and the outcome probably wouldn’t be to your advantage, what with the importance of letting sleeping lions lie and all that. Ruggie could attest to that simple truth, and this wasn’t the first time this had happened.
In fact, this had been happening ever since you’d started studying in the botanical garden.
You briefly frowned at the prince, snoozing away on your lap, before sighing and resolving yourself to do the only thing you could do and amuse yourself with the source of your problem.
Besides, even if he complained, you could cite it as his nap tax.
Your hands slid into his soft, healthy-feeling hair easily, and your eyes widened as his head rolled back into your palm slightly. Almost like he was encouraging you to continue toying with the chocolatey strands that smoothly slid between your fingers. 
You smiled to yourself as he somehow relaxed further the longer you massaged his scalp until your gaze shifted, landing on his fluffy-looking ears, and you felt a grin creep across your face.
You hesitated only briefly before carefully reaching out and carefully rubbing your thumb over the back of his ear. 
They were velvety, and you felt your eyes go wide at exactly how pettable Leona, of all people, was. 
His ears twitched slightly at your touch, and you felt yourself freeze. Your gaze darting back to his face, only to find him continuing to snooze away. Peaceful and utterly unaware of your actions.
You smiled again, shrugging to yourself slightly as you went back toying with his hair. Amusing yourself even as you remain trapped as his pillow and idly considering how the young man would react if you were to undo his braids and redo his hairstyle.
 You only went still when Leona shifted. Rolling over to look up at you with far too much amusement shining in his bright green eyes for you to feel totally comfortable.
You stared down at him in silence and he only seemed to grow more amused the longer the silence between the two of you stretched. To be honest, though, you felt like a child who’d been caught with their hand in a cookie jar, while he looked like you’d fallen for some sort of carefully laid trap. 
That feeling of having been caught was only made worse when he finally spoke, words slipping from his mouth in an all-too-smug tone, “Nothing to say?”
You twitched as he broke the silence before frowning and slowly retracting your hands, “You’re the one who suddenly decided to use me as a pillow. What was I supposed to do?”
He yawned, showing no signs of moving, “I thought you were studying?”
Amusement continued to flicker in the emerald depths of his eyes as you stared at him incredulously. Hardly able to believe what you were hearing, “With you snoozing away on my lap? Like I would get anything done that way.”
He smirked almost immediately at your words, and you tensed as he began to speak, bracing for whatever it was that he was about to say, “So I’m too distracting for you?”
You looked away, not wanting to agree as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, yes. Completely,” Sarcasm dripped from your tone, but Leona hardly seemed phased.
He did, however, at long last sit up. Snorting to himself before twisting so that he could continue to face you, “Well, did you at least enjoy yourself, Herbivore? Not too many get to do that.”
The implication was clear: he’d let you toy with his hair, and pet his ears even though most would never be allowed to do such a thing.
But despite that, as your gaze slid back towards him, a grin was already creeping across your face, “Be his Royal Majesty’s pillow, you mean? I didn’t realize it was such a privilege.”
He merely continued to grin at your deliberate misinterpretation of your words as you continued. Tilting your head in amusement as you finished, “I doubt that’ll be the last time that happens anyway.”
He shifted only slightly, angling his body so that he dipped into your personal space as he lifted his chin with a smirk, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”
You snorted slightly, your eyebrows lifting in amusement, before you gave the slightest of nods, “I guess so.”
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months
Note
hiiiii ♡ would be able to write something where reader is Jason Todd's girlfriend, friends to lovers situation so they've known each other a long time but she doesn't know about any of the vigilante stuff, And one day she's late making her way back to thier apartment but Jason is also making his way home but he's still in all the Redhood gear and reader bumps into him and is absolutely terrified out of her mind like just in complete terror of him. And she runs home and locks the doors and the windows and is a little shaken up. Jason finally arrives home obviously not as redhood lol And anyway he has to comfort her and just how would he react knowing that he scared the shit out of her and that she's this much afraid of redhood
Hi!! Of course! This is my first Jason Todd request and I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart!! I love him so much and this is an incredible idea. I added my own spin to the ending, but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍
Warnings: angst, fluff, Dick Grayson is nosy
Word Count: 2.3k+ words
A/N: This isn't a specific adaptation/characterization of Jason Todd, but I do mention that he's built like a brick wall, so it's probably not Titans!Jason. The gif fit, though, so. If anyone has more Jason Todd requests, please send them!
Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info
The Man Under the Hood
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“Are you going to tell her?” Dick asks, raising his gloved hand for Jason to hit.
“I don’t know,” Jason grunts between punches.
“She stayed through everything else.”
“We were friends then, it was different.”
Dick drops his hands, and Jason sighs, lowering his guard. Jason raises his eyebrows, preparing for one of Dick’s infamous lectures.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Dick begins before laughing at Jason’s surprised look. “I’m really not, but you’ve known her for a very long time. Just, don’t wait too long, because then it just looks like you don’t trust her.”
“It was different for you. Nightwing wasn’t feared. Telling her that I’m Red Hood tells her that I’ve done things that- that most people never consider.”
“She loves you. As you make the decision, just remember that.”
✯✯✯✯✯
Growing up in Gotham and playing in the streets (even when you shouldn’t have) introduced you to Jason Todd very early. He quickly became your friend, and when you lost him, you were finally ready to admit you loved him. But it was too late. The feelings that you were trying to navigate multiplied tenfold, and every time you pass his grave, they come back to the surface.
The cemetery is on your way home, and sometimes you can’t help but walk in. You can navigate to his headstone with your eyes closed, and everything else drifts away as you stare at his name.
“There’s a joke about the morbidity of this somewhere, I just know it."
Two large hands land on your waist, turning you around and pulling you into a kiss that takes your breath away. Breaking the kiss, you wonder what life would be like if Jason had never disappeared.
“Sorry,” you murmur. Kissing Jason is new and still catches you off guard, like you’re dreaming.
“Don’t apologize,” Jason whispers, brushing his fingers across your cheekbone. “Of all the places to hang out,” he adds with a bright smile.
“Why didn’t Bruce get it taken down?”
Jason shrugs. “The reminder? The idea that something else could happen. I really don’t know,” Jason half lies. He isn’t ready to tell you that he really did die and is happy to let you think it was just a ransom kidnapping gone wrong.
“What?” you ask, pressing your palms against his chest. “You disappeared into that pretty head again.”
“I’m just glad we’re finally more than friends,” Jason says, pressing his lips to yours.
“Me too,” you reply against his lips.
You’ve been friends much longer than lovers, so spending time together is not new, but being able to touch, kiss, and tell him what you feel is. While you think about how much you like the newness, Jason struggles to decide when or if to expose who he is.
He trusts you; he does, but he doesn’t want to scare you away or put a target on your back. Nightmares about you finding out and leaving while he’s gone plagued him for months after returning to Gotham and seeing you again. 
“Do you have to go back to the manor yet?”
Jason shakes his head, looping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re stuck with me for a few more hours.”
“Oh no.”
Jason pulls you against his side, smiling as he kisses the top of your head.
Not yet, he decides. Not never, just not yet.
✯✯✯✯✯
Jason feels Dick’s eyes on the side of his mask, a distorted sigh leaking out.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“You didn’t tell her,” Dick – Nightwing – accuses.
“We’re kinda in the middle of something here, Wing.”
“They can wait. Right, criminals?” Dick asks over his shoulder.
“Sure,” one of them answers, a batarang through his jacket keeping him stuck to an alley wall. “Take your time.”
Dick raises his hands to ask, “Why?”
“I thought you weren’t going to tell me what to do,” Jason sighs.
“Changed my mind. Look, I obviously understand the purpose of secret identities, but you love her, and she deserves to know.”
“You haven’t told your girl?” the thief asks. “Why not?”
“Shut up,” Jason growls through the hood.
“What are you really scared of?” Dick whispers before turning away.
Jason and Dick leave the criminal in the alley when police sirens approach, finding a rooftop to wait on. Gotham is never quiet for long, and breaks on patrol are few and far between.
“I’m going to tell her,” Dick announces. “Not about you. About me. Maybe that will convince you.”
“Don’t.”
“Jaybird.”
“Don’t ‘Jaybird’ me, Dick,” Jason argues, standing and pacing. “You don’t understand what I’m dealing with here. You tell Babs you’re Nightwing and she says, ‘Oh, wow, thanks for keeping us safe.’ I tell the woman that I love that I’m Red Hood and her first thought is the duffel bag fiasco, or the suicide spike at Arkham, nothing about me being a savior.”
“Everyone in Gotham knows that you’re not like that anymore. Besides, knowing that you did something bad isn’t a make-or-break situation.”
“Begging for forgiveness won’t do much if she leaves while I’m on patrol.”
Dick tilts his head toward Jason. “You’ve thought about this.”
Jason flexes his arms as he links his hands behind his neck. “Every time I consider doing it, I have a nightmare about her leaving.”
“You’re letting a nightmare control you, Jay.”
“Just- give me a little time, Dick. I can protect her from everything without telling her. Me included.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be protected from you? What if she wants you as you are?”
✯✯✯✯✯
Jason can’t remember the last time he was this tired after patrol. Damian had too much sugar or something and drug Jason all over Gotham. He needs to see you, and as Red Hood makes his way through the streets of Gotham, Jason keeps his mind on you, prepared to ditch the helmet and hold you until he can’t anymore.
Meanwhile, you’re walking home from work. Jason likes to be on the phone with you while you walk alone, but it’s late, and he’s probably at a family dinner. Looking down at your phone, you have a short message from him, but before you read it, you walk into what feels like a brick wall.
Gloved hands grip your biceps to keep you upright, and when you look up, you see the infamous Red Hood looming over you. Your mind wavers between fight and flight as you try not to scream, leaning away with wide eyes. You swallow harshly, and the eye slits of the mask fix themselves on your face.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
You flinch back at the sound of his voice, and his hands immediately fall away from you. Falling back, you catch yourself on your hands and scoot backward, terrified of what he’ll do to you. Red Hood has been working with the bats and birds, but the memory of what he was like before still looms over Gotham like the rain clouds that never dissipate.
He steps back, moving his hand toward his belt, and you gasp, freezing where you are.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, standing slowly. “Please don’t hurt me.”
It’s Red Hood’s turn to freeze, and unknown to you, Jason is falling apart under the mask. The pure terror in your eyes is the exact thing he’s been trying to keep you from.
“It’s okay, it’s my fault,” he rushes to say, leaving his hands where you can see them. “I’m not going to touch you.”
You nod slowly, moving backward as you clearly don’t believe him. Once you reach the corner, you turn and run. If he wanted to follow you, he could do so with no problem, but you don’t spare a glance over your shoulder as you run as fast as you can toward your home.
Jason’s shoulders drop as he watches you run, beating himself up for everything: for not telling you, for scaring you, and for putting you in this position. He can’t tell you now; he missed his chance, and there’s no way you’ll want him. His nightmare is coming to life around him, and he can’t wake up.
Your phone is lying on the ground, and Jason stoops to pick it up, slipping it into his pocket. Maybe you’ll still want to see Jason tonight. If someone like him can be so lucky.
✯✯✯✯✯
Your keys slip from your fingers several times as you struggle to unlock your door. Panting and blinking quickly to keep your tears from falling, you finally open the door, and once you're inside, slam it behind you and lock all three deadbolts.
Leaning against the door, you slide down it and hug yourself, wishing you had picked up your phone. You want to call Jason; you need him, but hopefully, he’ll come over when he can.
Something flies past your window, and you leap to your feet, walking through every room to ensure all the windows are locked. 
✯✯✯✯✯
Jason takes his time following you. He can move quickly, especially for a guy his size, but after seeing how you looked at Red Hood, at him, he’s more than happy to go a little slower. Taking the long way, he drops his stuff off at his place, keeping your phone in his pocket.
As he walks, he wonders what to say or do to convince you to stay. Sure, you were terrified of Red Hood, not Jason Todd, but the two are not mutually exclusive and never will be. Part of him wants to take Dick’s advice and tell you, but the idea of it not working (or ending like he thinks he will) makes the decision impossible.
He takes a deep breath before knocking on your door, and when there’s no answer or footsteps inside, he hits the door again, saying your name.
“It’s me,” he adds.
Your footsteps sound before three deadbolts click. Opening the door, you move into the hallway to hug Jason tightly. He returns the hug, pulling you up against him as he carries you inside and closes the door behind him. Flipping all the deadbolts, he knows he can keep you safer than they ever could, but that requires trust. Trust from you and from him.
As you cling to him, his heart is torn between leaving you before he scares you again or comforting you all night. When you adjust your grip on him, pressing your cheek against his pec just above your heart, Jason decides to stay. 
If she’s this afraid of Red Hood, what will she do when she finds out who he is? Jason wonders.
Pushing the thoughts away, Jason holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back while the other rests against your hip. The weight of his arms against you is comforting, and you focus on his heartbeat and the sound of his voice.
“You’re alright,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Take a few deep breaths.”
You do as he says, attempting to match your breaths to his. It takes several minutes, but your heart rate slows as your breath evens out.
“Thank you,” you say, moving your chin against his chest to look up at him.
He smiles, though his lips stay together, and it’s not as big as usual, running a hand over your hair.
“Can I- can I talk to you about what happened?” you ask, leaning into his touch.
He nods, and something akin to dread flashes through his eyes. You write it off as nervousness that you were hurt or threatened, which wouldn’t be unbelievable in Gotham.
“I was walking home, I got off late but didn’t want to call you and bother you.”
Jason wonders how different things would be if you had called, but rather than interrupting, he nods to acknowledge he’s listening.
“Then I turned into an alley, and I bumped into Red Hood. And, I mean, I know he’s not the same as when he first arrived in Gotham.”
Hope blooms in Jason’s chest at your words.
“He works with Batman, and Nightwing, and the rest of them, and they’re good. I’ve heard from my coworkers who live in the Hill that he’s making a difference, for good, but,” you trail off, looking away from Jason as you shatter his hope that you see a different side of Red Hood. 
“But what?” he asks quietly.
You shrug, and Jason takes the opportunity to move. He pulls you with him as he sits up, tugging you into his lap as you look up at him. His arms wrap around your waist as his fingers brush up and down against your side.
“I think the reason he scared me so much is that there’s no way to tell what he’s thinking. The rest of them, you can see part of their face, but he hides everything. And he’s just so big, I looked up and felt so small that I knew if he wanted to hurt me, he could.”
He would never hurt you, Jason thinks.
“I guess I didn’t like being in that position where I knew he could do anything but had no way of knowing if he would.”
Jason leans back toward the back of the couch. The fear that you’re expressing is based on reasons that apply to him, the man under the mask.
“You got scared because he’s so big? And unreadable?” Jason clarifies, applying the adjectives to himself.
Your eyes are fixed on him, dropping to his shoulders and waist quickly, looking at his build (and noticing the shape of a phone in his pocket, aware that he set his to the side to hold you) before you hum. “Kinda like you,” you muse quietly.
Jason’s brows furrow, and you move your arms, causing Jason to drop one arm to his side.
You watch his movement, then look into his eyes. You lean toward him and smile, cocking your head as you ask, “But you can protect me. Right, red?”
338 notes · View notes
krirebr · 5 months
Text
More Than This 2
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader
Word Count: ~6.1k
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, no noncon but some fear of it, excessive alcohol use, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Part One
Masterlist
A/N: Another part already??? This one has just been flowing right out of me. It occurs to me that I should probably explicitly state that this will have a happy ending! Possibly very far in the future, but it will happen!! 😂😭
Huge thanks again to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and letting me know when I was on the right track.
Visual references for the ring and dress can be found here.
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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Despite your best efforts, the next three weeks went by in a blink.
The engagement ring arrived the day after your disastrous dinner with Ransom. It was beautiful—a round diamond with a smaller sapphire on each side, set in swirling filigree. You wondered who picked it. Certainly not Ransom. Probably someone’s assistant. It felt like fire around your finger.
You’d packed up the small apartment you loved so much. Sorting everything into what you would bring and what would be put into storage – the latter category was much bigger. You sat in your living room, surrounded by boxes, and cried, with Steve beside you and Lola nervously shaking in your lap. 
Your mother took you to pick your dress. She sat on the plush couch in the appointment-only boutique and sipped champagne while you tried on dress after dress that the attendants brought you. Her favorite was an ivory satin ballgown with off-the-shoulder short sleeves, a bow at the bottom of the back, and a very wide skirt. She cried when you put it on. You told her it was your favorite too, because you just didn’t have it in you to have an opinion.
 The Thrombey clan came into town the week before the wedding. Their time was mostly spent in meetings with Joseph and his team. Meeting the new extended family was to be left for the wedding festivities.
You hadn’t heard a word from Ransom. You’d thought of texting him a few times but couldn’t see the point in it. He’d made his feelings on you and your upcoming marriage clear. Any added effort would just be torturing yourself.
Then, suddenly, the rehearsal dinner was passing without incident. It was a catered affair, held at your parents’ house. Despite being one of the two nominal guests of honor, aside from the initial introductions, you were mostly ignored, as business remained the topic at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Ransom was there, of course, seated next to you, even, but he did his best to avoid you. You were torn between intense relief for the moment and absolute terror for what it meant for your future. When you noticed him quietly ducking out, you took the opportunity to leave as well, hoping most people would think you’d absconded together. The thought made you laugh bitterly.
You spent your last night of freedom snuggled up with Lola in Steve’s guest room. You barely slept.
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Now, you sat in a plush robe in front of the vanity in the large hotel suite that sat several floors above the event hall you’d be getting married in in just over one hour. Steve sat sentinel in an armchair near you, already in his tux. People had been coming in and out all day – manicurists, aestheticians, makeup artists, hairstylists, your mother until she’d gotten called away for the pictures they didn't need you for. The female members of Ransom’s family too. His aunt, Joni, had only been in briefly, saying that the energy of the room was all wrong and she’d had to leave. Her daughter Meg had sat with you for a while, but she just kept complaining about how awful Ransom was and Steve eventually kicked her out, probably trying to spare you a panic attack. And then there was Ransom’s mother, Linda. She had been in a few times ‘to check on the progress.’ You’d tried very hard not to get stressed out by her, but she was very… severe, and you felt about a foot tall every time she looked at you. And now here she was, again.
“Darling,” she said, and you tried not to balk at the fact that you’d know this woman for less than 24 hours and she was already using endearments, “you’ll be needed for pictures soon and you aren’t dressed yet?”
You gestured to the two people at the rolling clothing rack who were carefully removing your dress from the garment bag. “We’re about to start putting it on. I’ll be ready soon.”
“Fantastic. Maybe it’s time for Steve to go then,” she cut a glance to your stepbrother.
“Not fucking likely,” he muttered. He’d been stuck to you like glue all day.
Linda’s eyebrows crawled up to her hairline. “I just think that some people might find it inappropriate for you to be in here while your sister gets dressed.”
He stood up and took a step toward her. “I’ll turn around,” he growled.
“Steve,” you sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” It wasn’t. You wouldn’t be, but none of that could be helped.
He looked at you carefully, his eyes flitting over your face. Finally, he nodded, “OK. I’ll see you out there then.” With a quick, reassuring touch to your arm, he left. 
Linda watched him leave and once he was out the door, she turned to you and said, “You and your stepbrother are very close, aren’t you?”
Something about her tone made you incredibly wary. “Yes,” you said cautiously, “he’s my best friend.”
“Isn’t that lovely?” she said with a thin-lipped smile that made it clear she thought anything but. 
You noted her reaction as you returned her smile and removed your robe. You let the attendants help you step into the dress where they’d pooled it on the floor. They pulled it up around you and you stood still as they fastened and arranged the dress on you. All under Linda’s watchful eye, her arms crossed over her chest. When it was all done and you’d stepped into your heels, you turned to her so that she could give the approval you could feel she was dying to give.
“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” she said. Just as you were about to thank her, she added, “Although, I suppose it would be hard not to be, with all these people working on you, huh?” Her tone was warm and friendly, but you took it as the cut down you knew she meant it to be. 
Still, you smiled. “Well, we should probably get down there, shouldn’t we?”
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Everyone oohed and aahed appropriately when you arrived at the courtyard space reserved for photographs. Your mother was crying again. Joseph smiled at you, possibly the warmest smile he’d ever given you, and said “Beautiful,” but it was less like a compliment and more confirmation that everything was the way he needed it to be, like he was commenting on furniture. You smiled anyway and thanked him, then moved where the photographers directed you. 
This round of pre-ceremony pictures was reserved for the families. Ransom had already done his and then been dismissed, to ‘preserve the big reveal’ you were told. You’d been asked earlier if you wanted to do first-look photos and declined. That had been interpreted as you wanting to have the big moment when you walked down the aisle to him. Instead, you just knew that he wouldn’t give them the reaction they were looking for. You’d rather spare yourself that embarrassment. 
The thing about these arrangements was that while they were all about business and everyone knew it, people still wanted the trappings of romance. The big wedding at a fancy venue, awe on the groom’s face when he saw the bride in her dress for the first time, a joyful reception with speeches about true love. It had made you roll your eyes when you’d gone to friends’ weddings, but now that it was your own, it all made you want to scream. 
You posed with Linda and Ransom’s father, Richard, a benign smile on your face. And then it was Harlan’s turn. “You look absolutely lovely,” he said to you, kindly. “You’re going to be so good for my grandson.” You responded with that same placid smile. You wondered if anyone had told Ransom that he was going to be good for you. You doubted it. That part didn’t seem to matter.
Next, it was time for your own family. Your mother and Joseph, together and then separately, and then Steve joined you for the full family. Once that was done, the photographers started to dismiss you, but you stopped them. “I want a few with just me and Steve.”
They looked at you and then Joseph and Linda, “That’s not on the list of required shots.”
“I don’t care,” you said, “I want them.”
“Darling,” Linda started, and you wanted to growl, “I’m not sure there’s time.”
“I don’t care,” you said again, “everyone can wait the five minutes this is going to take. I’m the bride, I doubt they’ll start without me. Isn’t today my day?”
Linda took a step back and nodded to the photographers but you could feel her watching you as Steve stepped up to you. “And people think I’m the troll,” he said, low enough for only you to hear. 
You smiled, possibly your first genuine smile all day. “You are the troll,” you said. “I’m the sweet one who does what she’s told without complaint.”
He snorted, “Sure,” and turned his head as the photographers directed. 
When it was all done, you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself as everyone but you and Steve began to make their way back inside.
“You ready?” he asked, concern all over his face.
You shook your head. “Not even remotely.”
He looked over your shoulder. “I know–” he began but stopped for a moment before he started again. “I know that if she had lived, we never would have met, but I still think, sometimes, about how much my mom would have loved you. Just as much as I do.”
“Steve,” you gasped.
He grabbed both of your hands. “You are the strongest, bravest person I know and you can do this.”
Your eyes welled up as you squeezed his hands, feeling like you’d completely fall apart if you let go. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered.
“Hey,” he said, oh so gently, “all you have to do right now is get through the ceremony. That’s it. You don’t need to think about what comes after. Focus on what’s directly in front of you. Nothing else. Just walk down the aisle and say I do when it’s your turn. That’s it. You can do that. I know you can do that. I wish you didn’t have to, but you can.”
 You took a deep breath. And another. And then you nodded. “I can.”
He smiled, big and genuine and still more than a little sad. He pulled you in for a hug, exceedingly careful to not mess anything up, and said again, “You can. I know you can.”
Someone stepped out of the big French doors leading into the vestibule your party was gathering in and waved frantically at you. Another deep breath. “OK,” you said.
He just nodded and guided you back inside.
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Joseph walked you down the aisle. It wasn’t your choice, but this day had always been more about him than it ever was about you, so of course he would be the one to walk you. You would have chosen Steve. But you also would have chosen not to do this at all. 
The walk was both agonizingly long and much, much too short. Ransom waited for you at the end of it, dressed in a designer tux and devastatingly handsome. You searched his face for anything, but he remained completely stoic, his eyes hard. You had to look away.
There were so many people gathered to watch your life change forever. As you gazed over the faces of the people seated on your side, you weren’t sure you recognized even half of them. You realized with a jolt that this was the most alone you’d ever felt, in this hall surrounded by hundreds of people, all eyes on you.
So much sooner than you were ready for, you’d arrived at the front, Joseph placing you in front of Ransom and joining your hands together. Ransom’s hands were soft and his grasp wasn’t nearly as harsh as you’d expected. You took a deep breath—every other thought since you’d stepped into the hall was to remind yourself to keep breathing—and met his gaze. It was still hard, but, maybe, maybe there wasn’t hate there.
Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to tell. 
The ceremony went quickly. You struggled to focus on the officiant’s words. It was like you were in a sort of fugue state. But you repeated after him when you were supposed to. You said ‘I do’ when you were prompted. You played your part.
Ransom did too. You’d half expected him to just not show up at all, or walk out part-way through, or something but he was under the same familial pressures as you, you reasoned. At the end of the day, you all just did what you were told.
Before you knew it, it was done. There was a ring on your finger and one on his. You barely remembered placing it there. You registered the officiant saying “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” and stared at Ransom. You expected him to swoop in and take what was his, but he paused. There was a clear question in his eyes. Shocked, you realized he was asking permission. As subtly as you could, you nodded. He gave a barely perceptible nod back and then he was kissing you. It wasn’t chaste, exactly, but it certainly wasn’t passionate either. Open-mouthed, but no tongue, and done quickly, the faintest taste of whiskey on his lips. Everyone applauded.
   The processional music started and you began to move without even realizing it, Ransom right beside you. And in that moment, when you had nothing else to focus on, no other immediate job to do, everything hit you. Holy fuck, you were married. This man beside you was your husband. One of your knees buckled and your steady leg caught the edge of your dress and just as you were sure you were about to go down, someone grabbed your hand and you felt another hand on your opposite hip, holding you up. “Wait to collapse in private, if you can,” Ransom murmured to you, dryly, then basically carried you the rest of the way down the aisle. 
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You were both ushered into a small sitting room off the main hall for a moment of privacy as your guests were moved into the ballroom where the reception would take place and before you would take pictures with your new husband. Once the two of you were alone, you tried to steady your breathing and shove down the panic clawing its way up your throat. You were married. It had actually happened. It was real. You steadied yourself on the bookshelf beside you and tried to think about what Steve had said. Focus on what was directly in front of you. You’d gotten through the ceremony by doing that, so now it was just pictures and the reception. That was all you had to worry about. You could do that. You could.
“You good?” Ransom’s voice cut through your internal monologue and you turned back around to face him where he was standing on the other side of the small room, pasting that fucking smile on your face. 
“Yes, I’m fine. Today is just a lot. But I’m fine. Thank you for helping me, before.”
“Well,” he smirked, “I couldn’t have my new wife embarrass me thirty seconds in, could I?”
Your smile went brittle and a small voice in your head chanted fifty years of this but you tamped it down. Pictures and the reception. Pictures and the reception. That was all you had to get through right now.
There was a light knock and then the door opened. One of the photographers peeked in, a camera in their hand. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said. “Just wanted to get some intimate, candid shots, before we go outside for the formal pictures.” Their eyes moved between you and Ransom and you knew they were measuring the space between you.
You shook your head and tried to keep your tone friendly. “No need, just the formal ones are fine.” You didn’t need any more documentation of this day than was absolutely necessary. 
“Oh,” they said, surprised, “well, Mrs. Drysdale wanted–”
“Linda can fuck right off,” Ransom interrupted. “We’ll come outside now.” He shouldered his way past them and out the door. You just smiled and followed him, the photographer chasing after you both.
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The pictures went quickly, you both seeming to want them over with as fast as possible. He didn’t say much to you, aside from the occasional exclamation like, “Jesus Christ, is this skirt big enough?” when he tried to move around you or pose behind you. The photographers kept trying to get you to look at each other, but when you did, it clearly didn’t give them the result they wanted, so they moved on quickly.
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Afterward, you were escorted into the ballroom, where your entrance was met with applause. Your face was beginning to hurt from all the placid smiling you’d done all day. 
You blanched when you realized that you and Ransom were the only ones seated at the head table. You wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. 
There was still some time before dinner would be served. You could already see people beginning to make their way toward you to offer their congratulations to fill the time. A server appeared at your table and you asked for a glass of champagne. Ransom requested his usual scotch then added, “There’s an extra hundred in it for you if you make sure I’m never holding an empty glass tonight.”
You could see the disaster waiting to happen, so you tried a quiet “Ransom,” as the server left, not really thinking before you said something.
He let out a hollow chuckle. “If that’s the kind of wife you’re going to be, let me tell you right now, this marriage isn’t going to work. I don’t respond well to nagging.”
You took a breath, “I wasn’t trying to nag,” you said, “I just–”
“Ransom!” a loud voice interrupted you. You looked over to see Ransom’s uncle, Walt, approaching your table. You’d been introduced to him very briefly the night before. “Congratulations on finally growing up and settling down,” he said, once he stood in front of his nephew. You felt Ransom stiffen next to you, but his face just had an obnoxious smirk on it. Walt’s eyes briefly cut to you but then returned to Ransom. “Although, she’s pretty young, isn’t she?”
Ransom rolled his eyes, still smirking. “Well, it’s not like I picked her, is it Walt? You got a problem with it, go tell Mom or Grandad.” 
You bit your lip at being spoken about like you weren’t sitting right there. But you knew better than to cause a scene, so you quietly said, “Excuse me,” and left the table. Neither of them seemed to notice, locked in a hostile stare-down.
You’d only made it a few feet when someone you didn’t recognize was pulling you aside to offer their congratulations. You smiled and politely nodded through it and when it was done you were grabbed by someone else and then someone else. You crossed paths with Steve briefly before you were both pulled in other directions. You only got a break when they started serving dinner. You got back to your seat to find Ransom sitting alone, sipping his scotch as full plates of food were placed before you. You didn’t have much of an appetite.
You picked at your food and mostly moved it around the plate, while Ransom ate hungrily beside you. Neither of you said anything. After the second course was served, the speeches started. Joseph mostly spoke about the two families coming together and all the opportunities that represented. You wanted to stage whisper to him that it was customary to at least mention the couple at some point, but then he sprinkled Ransom’s name in. A brief mention of how proud he was to be gaining a son like him. You wanted to laugh. They barely knew each other. As if Joseph cared at all about what kind of man he was giving you to. You were finally mentioned at the very end as he toasted his “beautiful stepdaughter and her new husband. To a long and fruitful marriage!” You wanted to break something.
Harlan, for his part, was much more focused. He, of course, referenced all the new opportunities this would bring, it was why you were all here, after all. But he mostly talked about his grandson, how much he loved him, all the potential Ransom had, and once again, how good you were going to be for him. You wondered if you just started screaming right there, what people would do. 
As for Ransom, judging by his body language, he seemed to enjoy both speeches just as much as you had. You wondered if the rest of the guests could feel how miserable you both were and just chose to ignore it. Probably.
When the speeches were done and the tables were cleared, it was time for your first dance. Ransom made it clear by the way he stood up that this was the last thing he wanted to be doing. You tried not to let it bother you, it wasn’t like you were especially excited about this either, and kept your head held high as you came around the table to join him. He took your hand to lead you onto the dance floor and you were once again surprised by the way he held it gently when you’d half-expected him to drag you out there.
You hadn’t chosen whatever song you were about to dance to. You could’ve, probably, but you’d begged off of most of the decision-making for the day, unable to drum up an opinion on any of it. So you had no right to complain as the opening strains of “At Last” filled the ballroom, but you had to stifle an eye-roll anyway. Of course, they went for something that romantic, that cliche. They were all lucky you didn’t burst out laughing.
Ransom pulled you in close with a hand on your lower back, as you put one of yours on his shoulder and he took your other hand in his. It all felt strangely respectful, the way his hand didn’t wander from the small of your back and he held you close but not too close, with plenty of breathing room between you. You weren’t sure how to wrap your head around it, what it all meant.
He was a good dancer, most likely the product of formal dance lessons as a teenager, just like you’d had. It made it easy to keep your polite smile in place as all eyes in the room were on you.
“You’re good at that,” Ransom said.
You shrugged. “A variety of dance classes since I was seven.”
He chuckled. “No, I meant the smiling thing.” When you just looked at him, confused, he continued. “Unless you’re much dumber than I think, you hate this just as much as I do. But look at you, that smile hasn’t dropped all fucking day. You’re having such a nice time, aren’t you? Being the good girl they all expect you to be. Can’t ever let them know you’re upset. Oh no, that just isn’t done.”
You nearly tripped, but you had the good grace to keep going. You kept your face pleasant to everyone watching as you gritted out “And what am I supposed to do instead, huh? Glower and glare because I didn’t get what I wanted? Be an asshole to everyone? And where exactly would that get me? We’re both here, Ransom, stuck in this. At least my way of dealing with it doesn’t make anyone else’s life more difficult.”
He chuckled again. “No one’s but mine,” he said, but instead of just irritation, there was a glimmer in his eye, too, that you couldn’t begin to interpret. It was almost like part of him was having fun. 
The song ended, fading into the next, and more couples joined you on the dance floor. Keeping your hand in his, Ransom led you back to the table, depositing you there and grabbing his drink, before disappearing amongst the tables. 
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Ransom didn’t come back. You'd stayed at the table for a bit, for want of anything else to do. When you got bored of that, you wandered through the crowd, accepting congratulations and trying to find familiar faces. You knew there were a few of your own friends in attendance, but you were afraid to face them, knowing you’d see pity on the faces of the luckily single and recognition on those who were already married. You wouldn’t see much of them anymore anyway, with you leaving for Boston the next day. You couldn’t think about that yet. Focus on what’s in front of you.
You were periodically offered champagne from a passing server and you accepted every time, leading to you now feeling pleasantly floaty. It was a nice break from just how very much you’d been feeling the rest of the day.
You arrived back at your seat, without really intending to, to find Steve waiting for you. He was staring into the corner of the room with a disgruntled expression. “I could fucking kill him,” he mumbled.
You followed his gaze and found Ransom with a group of Harvard-looking bros doing shots by the bar. You shrugged. “He’s getting drunk over there and I’m getting drunk over here,” you said as you downed your champagne and began looking around for a server. 
Steve sighed your name. “Come on, let’s sit down.”
He guided you to a chair and then sat down beside you. “Where’d you get off to?” you asked.
Steve rolled his eyes and groaned. “Dad,” was all he said. You nodded. For all that he wasn’t in your situation, as his father’s heir, he had many heavy responsibilities and obligations weighing on him. You were both caged in by this family.
“Does that mean you’re speaking to him again?” you asked, your voice free of judgment.
Even so, he grimaced. “Only when I have to.” He sighed and looked at you. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Steve,” you said, sincerely.
He shook his head. “It’s not.” He paused, then, “I wish there’d been a way for me to stop this.”
“Steve,” you sighed. It wasn’t worth talking about again.
Over by the bar, Ransom let out a loud, hearty laugh that carried over to where you were sitting. Steve glared. “You don’t deserve this,”
You shrugged. “It’s what I have, I guess.” Then before he could continue the conversation, you added, “Can we please talk about anything else?”
He looked at you carefully and then nodded. “Sure,” he said, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear, and then launched into a twenty-minute explanation of the painting he was working on. You didn’t think you’d ever been more grateful for him. And you hadn’t even thought to ask a server for more champagne. 
The conversation only ended when your mother appeared in front of you. Steve stood up to greet her, smiling warmly, and then excused himself, squeezing your hand as he went.
“Honey, we’re going to go. I just wanted to make sure I said goodbye to you first.”
You stood up and hugged her. “You’ll be there to send us off tomorrow, right?”
“Oh, honey, no. Joseph had something come up and you know how hard it is for me to get around by myself.”
You felt the bottom drop out of everything. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”
“Of course, I am, darling. That’s what I’m doing right now.”
Suddenly, only focusing on what was directly in front of you was impossible. You were married to a stranger who couldn’t stand you. Tomorrow, you would be leaving everything you knew to go to a new home where you didn’t have anything or anyone. And your mom wouldn’t even be there to say goodbye.
“Steve would come to get you, you know he would,” you tried desperately.
“Honey, no, I can’t,” she said firmly and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. “Now, come on,” she drew you into another hug. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“Mom,” you whispered, your voice so thick. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Of course, you can,” she pulled back and looked you in the eye. “I know it seems hard, now, but it’ll be easier than you think to keep him happy.” She gently touched your cheek. “All you have to do is listen, and not argue too much. You’re going to be such a good wife and mother. I just know it.” 
She leaned forward to hug you again and you went stiff in her arms. Everything she’d gone through – two marriages that weren’t her choice, a husband that was so cold to her and her daughter, a lonely life. And here she was, offering you up for the same fate. You didn’t know how you were supposed to bear this.
“Have a safe flight,” she whispered in your ear and then she was gone. You didn’t watch her go. You just sank back into your chair, ready for the night to end. 
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A while later, you heard someone call your name. You turned around to see Richard. “I think it’s time for Ransom to call it a night.” You followed Richard’s gaze to see Ransom slumped over in a chair. You almost asked him why he was telling you. Then you remembered that Ransom was your husband now. Your problem, your responsibility. You nodded to Richard and thanked him, smiling at him, of fucking course. 
When you got to Ransom, he looked up at you and laughed. “Well, if it isn’t the wife!” he slurred. “We were just talking about you.” You looked over at the men on either side of him, equally drunk, and tried not to feel too humiliated. 
The crowd was thinning, but there were still people around and you could feel their eyes on you, so you did your best to keep your tone and face calm. “Ransom, it’s time to go up to our room.” 
One of his companions snickered and you were suddenly struck by what might await you in that room. You’d been so focused on just getting through the next thing that you’d protected yourself from thinking about what he might want, what he might demand, once you were alone. But looking at him now, as he struggled to stand up or get any control over his body at all, you hoped that you might be safe for this night, at least. 
Steve appeared at your elbow. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbled, low enough that it didn’t seem to be for you. Then louder he asked, “You need help getting him up to the room?”
You turned to him to answer, but then you saw Linda over his shoulder, watching you both carefully. You shook your head. “No, you can’t. I’ll be fine. I’ll–” Ransom took that moment to fall loudly back into his chair. He was way too big for you to handle on your own. You sighed and looked around for anyone who might help. “I’ll get Richard to help me.”
Steve looked at you confused. “I can do it.”
“I know,” you said, “but I just can’t let you. It– The way it would look,” you shook your head again.
You could tell he still didn’t get it, but he let it drop. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow. And if you need anything between now and then,” he sent a scathing look to Ransom, “you call me.”
You nodded, knowing you wouldn’t, as he squeezed your wrist and left and you went to track down Richard.
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After much struggle, you finally got Ransom into the honeymoon suite, Richard retreating as soon as his son was safely dumped into an armchair next to the bed. And then you were alone with him. You just stared at him for a moment, then asked, “Can you get yourself undressed?”
“ ‘fcourse,” he mumbled, then thrashed around in his tux jacket. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to still his wild movements, then tugged off the jacket. You carefully began unbuttoning his shirt, trying to touch him no more than absolutely necessary, but he still smirked at you. “That desperate to get me naked?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and tried to keep going, but a hand on your wrist stopped you. “Hey,” he said, very seriously. He tried to lock eyes with you, but his kept drooping, as he continued. “We don’t have to do anything t’night. Not if you don’t want.”
You scoffed. “Yeah?” you asked. “Is that you or your whiskey dick talking?” You regretted it immediately, you were so tired. You waited for the insult to land, to see how he’d react, but he’d stopped paying attention, his head lolling against the back of the chair. You finished with the buttons and kneeled in front of him to take off his shoes. When that was done, you stood back up. “Please tell me you can get your own pants.”
He nodded, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt, and stood up. He struggled with his belt for a few minutes, but eventually got it off, then pawed at his fly until he was able to undo that as well. As he moved to the bed, his pants slowly slid down his legs. You tried not to look at him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Under any other circumstances, you would find him so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. How dare he look like that and treat you like this. Just another aspect of this whole fucking mess that made you want to cry.
He stumbled to the edge of the bed and then threw himself forward, collapsing onto it face down, lying across it diagonally. Almost immediately, he started snoring. You just stood there a moment, watching him take up the entire bed. Fuck. It was fine. It’s not like you were going to sleep much anyway. You tugged his pants the rest of the way off his legs and threw them onto the pile of the rest of his clothes. 
You turned your attention back to yourself and stopped, suddenly gripped by panic. You tried to reach behind yourself and begin unfastening your dress, but the line of delicate hook and eye fastenings was too difficult to get without being able to see them. And you couldn’t reach all of them anyway. Oh god, you were going to be stuck in your dress all night. 
There was no one to help you. Ransom was out like a light and would be too drunk and clumsy even if he were conscious. Your mom had gone home. You couldn’t call Steve. He would come help at the drop of a hat, but if anyone saw him coming into your room… No. You were completely alone.
Every feeling you’d tried to push down and ignore this whole awful day came bubbling to the surface. You finally cried, your body wracked with sobs. You couldn’t control it. As you did, you still tried to wrestle with your dress, but your panic and sorrow made getting out of it impossible. So you sank down to the ground and just let the tears come. 
When you were finally all cried out, you stood up and moved to the bathroom. You took off your makeup and took down your hair, redoing it in the way you always slept in. You brushed your teeth and finished up with your skincare routine. Then you went back into the bedroom and grabbed a blanket off the bed. You moved into the adjoining living room and sank down onto the couch, arranging your giant dress around you. You turned on the TV and settled on a marathon of some procedural crime show you were pretty sure you’d seen before. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted the night to go quickly.
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queers-gambit · 4 months
Text
The Battle Above the God’s Eye
part one: Sands of Time
prompt: decades after the Stepstones, it's his turn to be rescued.
pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 6.3k+
note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.
warnings: reader isn't explicitly a Targaryen but we had to make this work and i'm burnt the fuck out. so fuck it, dragon rider reader. cursing, books spoilers, violence, imagination required, maybe Red Priestess reader, mention of more Little Birds (let author live), toxic family (duh), heavily encouraged imagination, depictions of death, angst, some hurt and comfort i think ? missing warnings 'cause wonky brain goin' wonky.
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"There's rumor, Mistress, of a dragon the color of night," the hooded figure informed. "It nests in the Ruins of Ancient Valyria, seen by farmers and countryfolk; they say his wings beat like thunder. It's a colossal shadow they fear to engage, but after hearing your ransom, they reported it."
You hummed as you took a sip of scalding tea, finding comfort in the heat, musing, "I've been to the Ruins myself on two seperate excursions, I promise you, friend, there is no dragon that nests there."
"It's come from the East, a new beast in the sky."
"I require proof if I am to pay the ransom."
The man with a hood over his head reached for his rucksack and rummaged, a moment later, placing two items on the polished mahogany table between you both. One was unmistakably a dragon's tooth, and when you examined it, there was still clotted blood on the root - assuring it was a fresh pull. The second was a large black scale that weighed at least a dagger's worth.
You smirked, "This is promising. Where in the Ruins has it been seen? Who procured these artifacts?"
You discussed specifics with the man for an hour, offering him a hefty finder's fee after getting the name of the village the man had gathered his own information from. It was a messy journey from there; leaving the home you had made in the decades since the Stepstones to head for what was probably another dead end in Ancient Valyria. You were something akin to a magistrate, the people saw you as a figurehead, a leader; their person of authority who they were all too happy to follow.
Your village flourished, growing in size, number, popularity, and strength by the passing day. The people seemed happy, wealth flowing from exports and trade, and apparently, a few cartographers have begun the process of updating a few maps to add your village's name to history.
Much had changed in your time away from your Rogue Dragon Prince, but you knew that was all coming to an end soon. Your Lord of Light had shown you much in your flames, one of which was a repeating image of you, mounted atop a dragon all your own, soaring over the Narrow Sea with distinct purpose. You weren't a Targaryen, but your religious devotion seemingly gave you the ability to walk amongst beasts and their flames.
Exploring Ancient Valyria took over a year on foot.
You had plenty of encounters with the Stone Men, but all met their merciful demise - those left after that steered clear of you and your Valyrian Steel sword. Around the ruins of the ancient volcano that hadn't erupted since The Doom, you found a graveyard of goat, sheep, and cattle bones. There were bigger skeletons of aquatic creatures, something you found incredibly fascinating - what fully grown dragon went deep diving?
Soon, you found scat. For those who don't spend time in the wilderness or who are simply unfamiliar with the term, "scat" refers to waste produced by wild animals. Yeah, you're reading correctly, after you found the plethora of skeletons, you found dragon shit.
So, you knew you were closer than before. But the fucker still alluded you to the point you felt insane circling the Ruins.
You located about three different potential caverns, investigating them all with caution, but finding them all empty. Feeling exhausted from the months of searching, you claimed one of the caves as your own; hunting for a meal after gathering adequate fire wood. You listened to the untamed wilds of Valyria as you ate whatever you roasted, trying to distinguish familiar sounds of an approaching dragon.
Or perhaps even a distant one!
You'd take any sign!
It'd been weeks since you found the dragon droppings, no other signs appearing. You would search new areas for days, then return to your cave for rest; feeling disconnected from reality the longer you lingered in the ruined empire. You wondering what your village was doing, you were curious if the young woman, Ferona, had a baby boy or girl, if they had erected the new buildings you left blueprints for in an effort to create opportunist housing and houses of worship - as your people had requested.
How did the krill and shrimp season fair? What weddings happened this past spring? How was the irrigation system holding up?
Weeks drug by slowly. Weeks turned to longer months. Two years, you spent in that Gods forsaken ruin of a city - but couldn't find it in you to abandon your search.
Your Lord of Light had yet to send word, yet set your heart ablaze every time you "decided" to go home. You stared into the flames every night, desperate for any indication you were on the right path, but nothing was seen - nothing was said - nothing was shown to you. Until one night, during a torrential downpour and thunderous storm, you were shivering, drenched to your core, fighting the wind to let you keep your flames alive.
And there, in the dying, flickering warmth, you saw it. With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared into the flames harder; unsure how long you remained in the tranquil state before a particularly strong gust of wind nearly pushed you face-first into the embers. You gasped, looking around as the smoke nearly choked you as it filled the cave; stumbling out into the rain as you coughed and patted your chest. Stumbling slightly from malnourishment and delirium, you leaned on the outer shell of your "home", panting with relief before there came a screech so fearsome, you were then cowering into the wall with fear.
You dropped to your knees, huddled into the rock formation; the ground trembling as something enormous touched down. You gasped when through the haze of sideways rain, two nostrils flared and heaved thick plumes of smoke; reddened from the ignited flames deep within an invisible chest. You flattened against the wall, four taloned paws striking the ground and causing it to crack, quake, and tremble. With the fleeting clouds, you used the moon's light to distinguish the beast that loomed closer to you; over you; and then, in your face.
A long, blackened snout nearly pressed into your chest; fabric of your tunic caught in the razor sharp teeth. You had faced death, you had faced beasts, you had faced hacking axes and swinging swords. You had faced the wrath of the Queen Alysanne's court, the rumors of the common folk, and judgment from both man and God. But nothing was like this moment: a wild dragon staring you down, sniffing your chest and stomach, debating if it should just open it's mouth and eat you whole yet or not.
Thankfully, it chose an alternative route.
You're not fully sure how it happened, but you dedicated two years to finding this terrible beasty, and yet, it only took about 6 weeks to bond with the (obviously) young thing. Time with your Dragon Prince proved most useful, creating a bond so secure, you were beginning to wonder if someone deep in your bloodline had mated with a Targaryen. It was natural, the way you both became accustomed to one another; living together on a carbon-dated land long doomed.
The lessons from Daemon came flying back to you. You practiced your High Valyrian, laughing when you obviously got a word or two wrong because the dragon would snort at you. In the light, she was still the color of the night, but her scales were dusted the same gold as her eyes. She was impressive, she was huge in size but nowhere near Vhagar. In fact, you'd wager she had outgrew Caraxes - the only dragon you had true experience with.
Speaking of Caraxes, you were on the shores of Old Valyria, debating how you were going to convince your new companion to join you back "home" in the village, when suddenly, your beast gave a defensive growl.
Looking to the skyline, you spotted the distant dragon and frowned. This dragon wasn't the color of flames like Caraxes was, no, instead, it was a murky blob in the sky with two wings. You offered calming words to your dragon in her native language, not sensing danger, but your beast was unhappy leaving you in the open. Her tail curled around you to corral you back into her body as the muddy brown dragon landed with a thunderous shake a respectable distance away.
Your name was begged by the rider descending from who you recognized as a wild dragon by the name of Sheepstealer.
"Nettles? That you, love?" You asked in skepticism, managing out of your dragon's grasp. "What're you doing here? You all right?"
"I needed to find you," she panted. "I-I need you help - it's all - it's all gone wrong! Please!"
"What's wrong? The fuck's happened?"
"Do you know nothing, Auntie!? Do you know nothing of the war!?"
Your eyes rolled, "Watch that tone with me, girl. The Dance of Dragons is of no concern of mine, it had barely started when I came here."
"Well - it's your concern now," she insisted. "You took me under your wing - you helped raise me in a village you built from the ground, despite not ever needing to - "
"Your mother was a dear friend of mine," you cut her off sharply. "She was kind to me when I came back to Essos, let me stay with her and your father. When I set out on my own, she was always a friendly face, and when my settlement was established..."
"She came to you for help after getting pregnant with me," Nettles nodded. "You've told me this before."
"Then you should know better by now that I owed your mother more than my life, so, raising you was the least I could've done. A life for a life."
"And as such, you let me go into the world with stories filling my head of a handsome Dragon Prince that saved you from the Crabfeeder!" You scoffed at her words, ready to argue, but she rushed, "He's in trouble, Auntie."
You paused, finding no lie in the girl's eye. Slowly, you asked, "Come again?"
"I found him, Mistress," she nodded. "After I got back to Westeros, I found your Prince Daemon - the ones from the stories! He's... He's brutish and harsh, they call him Rogue, but he was kind to me when I told him I knew you. When he heard your name, Lady, he just - he insisted on keeping me close. He protected me, even against his wife - Princess Rhaenyra."
Your head cocked, "Hmm... He usually did have a taste for younger flesh. I'm not surprised he took to you - "
"No, no, no, Mistress, not like that," she insisted desperately. "He was kind, educational - similar to a mentor."
"I see."
"He needs your help."
"Prince Daemon does not need rescuing, he is no damsel."
"He searches for Prince Aemond," she informed, making you lift your chin slightly. Though lost in the wild of Valyria the past two years, you were still well versed in the affairs of King's Landing; staying updated, curtesy of your Lord, the Lord of Light: R'hllor. In your village, you were known to pay for any accurate information - eventually hiring your own spies to relay trustworthy information from around surrounding cities and villages. Nettles was one of your Little Birds.
You sighed, "And? What of it - Aemond killed Lucerys, did he not? Since he married his niece, her children are now his step-children, right? Daemon is within his rights to want some form of vengeance - it's war, Nettie, it's never fair to anybody.
"He will not survive this, you don't understand! It's horrible, Mistress, please, he-he-he's deranged. Mad with grief, lost to his wife's useless fucking war. It'll be the death of him, Auntie, please!" She paused, seeing you just stare back at her; so she begged again, "Please!"
You nodded, "What do you want me to do, Nettie? Hmm?"
"You've told me those stories! I remember them well! You always said he came back for you, saved you from The Crabfeeder," she reminded, making you stiffen. "Does he not deserve the same? Or at least a chance? Rhaenyra will not help, she'll kill him herself I fear, but you can - you can help!"
You nodded, "I will consult the flames - "
"I am telling you - "
"I have heard you, girl!" You snapped, glaring at your Little Bird. "But there are greater forces at work than what you know, I cannot just so willfully trust the word of a child before flying off across the Narrow Sea. Allow me my time with my Lord, I will have an answer for you." Turning from her, you gathered whatever materials you could; setting it up in a small teepee before stepping back.
In High Valyrian, you gave your command. From over your shoulder, your beasty opened her mouth and shot a single flame at the structure.
On your knees, you muttered repeatedly; chanting, summoning your Lord of Light to come to you now in a great hour of need. And He did. Through the flames, you saw what R'hllor wanted to show you: the two Princes engaged in a brutally epic fight that would claim them both in the end...
Unless you left right that moment, as your Lord commanded.
"Make yourself safe, Nettles, go back home," you told her in a rush, catching the pouch of Gold Dragons she tossed you when you sprung into action - and for the first time, mounted your dragon. Like your minds were connected, the Great Shadow took to the sky - leaving Nettles and Sheepstealer behind, and you'd never see either again.
You remained high in the sky, being a blob to the naked eye should any dare to stare at the sun.
You only paused to let the Great Shadow dive into the Narrow Sea for a meal; surfacing with creatures in her jaws as you swam an exhausting broad stroke. Was it terrifying to swim in the open water? Absolutely, but your dragon seemingly kept any threats at bay. When she was satisfied with her meal, the Great Shadow scooped you onto her back and relaunched into the air again to continue your flight for Westeros. You both dried in the air.
The trip was draining.
It was grueling on you both.
Yet when you saw the distant shore, you couldn't help the spike of relief in your heart and veins.
Once in Westeros, you were forced to ground yourselves in the open area of the Stormlands because you needed to know where to go since Nettles hadn't been sure where to send you specifically. Using the usual thunderstorm as cover, you had to separate from the Great Shadow; leaving her in the dark as you ventured to the closest village.
With the pouch of Gold Dragons Nettles gave you, you paid for information that you needed. You were told all the nitty gritty details about the Dance of the Dragons that you've missed, understanding what (Nettles and) the Lord of Light had been trying to tell you for years: the Black Queen would be Prince Daemon's death.
The time had come for you to return his favor from the Stepstones. If this worked the way you wanted it to, you wouldn't be his first, second, nor third wife, but his fourth and final. You knew what you had to do.
"What do you know of their whereabouts?" You asked the innkeeper who wiped down the bar you leaned on.
"The Princes?" She asked, tisking right after. "The One Eyed Prince has been burning the Riverlands for almost two weeks now. The Rogue Prince was in Maidenpool but he's called his nephew to meet him at, uh, oh... Oh, bullocks, what's that haunted castle? The one that was torched?"
"Harrenhal?"
She snapped her fingers at you, "That's the one!"
"Fuckin' Hell," you muttered, wiping your eyes. "What's your thinking, love? 'Bout this war?"
She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Stupidest thing I've endured so far. How silly, the House of the Dragon does not know who rules it, or so says our liege lord. So we must all pay their price in Fire and Blood."
You nodded slowly, "Who do you think holds the better claim t'the Throne?"
"Depends on your views," she muttered, "but in truth, it doesn't matter to me - so long as this all comes to an end. But between us?" She leaned in, glancing around before muttering, "The Bitch Queen would burn us all. Can't say if King Aegon would be much better, but at least we'd know what we were dealing with."
"And if he was another Maegor?"
"Can't be worse than the Black Queen. Hear they call her Maegor with Tits."
You smirked, chuckling lightly, "Thank you, ma'am, for your words." You offered her a few Gold Dragons, repeating, "Harrenhal?"
"Harrenhal," she nodded, accepting the payment. "I do not know if the One Eyed Prince will answer the Rogue Prince's challenge, but that is where he lures Prince Aemond - Harrenhal. Now, how's about a nice bowl of stew? You look drenched, love, and a bit skinny - you been eatin'?"
"Your kindness is refreshing in this shit-for-a-kingdom."
You winked at her and tapped the bar in parting before turning for the door, and into the rain you ventured once more. You didn't notice the cold, your Lord kept you warm and moving; finding the Great Shadow, mounting, and shooting off into the unknown sky again.
It wasn't easy directing a dragon without a saddle nor any stabilizing reins, yet your beast was something of a decently smooth fly. You minimally directed her as you went, but in truth, her instincts directed you both more than anything. When the storm broke, you were soon flying over charred scores of land; homes smoldering and burning, the wind spreading the embers and never letting the fire fully die out.
"The fuck..." You muttered, sitting up straight as you flew through the carnage. "Seven Hells, he burnt it all, didn't he?" You whispered, needing to hold onto the spinal ridges of your dragon to keep balanced. "Gods be good," you gaped at the damage beneath you.
The sun moved into position, getting ready to set when you heard the horrible screams of feuding dragons. You couldn't see Harrenhal yet, but you heard the fight, and then, as the sun began to set, there came flashes of bright firelight that lit the sky to a new level.
It was nearly the shade of daylight with the way the flames danced against the setting sun. You were desperate to get closer, and after directing the Great Shadow over a set of charred rolling hills, you finally had Harrenhal in sight. "Go! Go, please! That's them - we need t'get there!" You begged through a small sob of panic, and if possible, your dragon flew all the faster.
You were so close, yet felt so far.
The air trembled when the pair of dragons, Vhagar and Caraxes, collided in the sky once more. They grappled and snarled and shrieked and blew flames and gnashed their teeth and slashed their talons. You paid no mind to the pregnant woman standing on the shoreline of the lake they fought over, and instead, focused on your task; feeling as if you were moving on pure instinct and adrenaline.
The Great Shadow dove low to the lake's surface as Caraxes and Vhagar came barreling to the ground. It all happened too fast. As the two dragons fell, you saw one man - in black armor - leap from his crimson beast with his Valyrian sword winking in the dying light. Just as his arm extended to pierce Dark Sister into Aemond's blind eye, the dragons were tussling enough to turn over and forced Daemon off their hide.
You gasped as you reacted - no fucking thought to your actions.
As the Great Shadow glided over the surface of the Gods Eye lake, you were leaping off her back to launch into the air; tackling the Rogue Prince hard enough to disrupt his impact on the water's surface. You hit the water all the same, but instead of it being like hitting fresh pavement, it was a softer landing due to the Great Shadow's expert and quick maneuvering.
Two dragons hit the water, three human bodies; sending a wave of water higher than the towers of Harrenhal's fortress. It was a shock to land in something so wet and cold, but your adrenaline was stronger than any feeling of freezing water. Your arms kept an iron-clad lock around Daemon's unconscious waist, surfacing as the lake rippled and churned from impact; turning a seeping red from the open wounds on the dragon sinking into the depths.
Prince Aemond never surfaced, and years from now, he'd be found still chained to Vhagar's saddle with Dark Sister still stabbed through his skull. His Red Witch standing on shore couldn't save him, it appearing that your Lord preferred the Rogue Prince to the One Eyed.
Keeping Daemon afloat was difficult, but to your shock, you were being gently propelled forward to the shore by a fatally injured Caraxes. You encouraged him best you could, trying not to choke on the water splashing around your frantic forms. When you were able, you started heaving and dragging Daemon up the lake's embankment; the crimson dragon crawling out of the lake behind you, slowly, heading towards Harrenhal. You wanted to offer the loyal beast aid or comfort, but you were much too preoccupied with his master that was dead weight in the water's surf.
You trembled as you swiftly hoisted his dragon winged helmet off to leave bobbing in the surf; unhooked his armor, shucking it off him and compressing his chest rapidly - just like a fisherman taught you to do.
"C'mon," you grunted. "C'mon, Daemon, breathe - fucking breathe, damnit! Please, come back to me - don't do this. I just found you again, c'mon, my Prince, breathe. Breathe, Daemon, don't give up - not now, not on us! Don't give up on us, c'mon, my Prince, breathe, w-we finally have our time." Sobs wracked your form. "Breathe, Daemon, please! Please! I'm back - I finally found you, please, my love, breathe!"
You shoved harder into his breast bone with increased ferocity until water came suddenly spewing from his lungs. You heard the Great Shadow land in the near distance, turning Daemon on his side to help him breathe better; choking the water out. You spoke in relief, "There, there you go, c'mon, love, breathe! Thank fucking Gods, you're all right, you're okay, get it out - you're okay, just breathe, my love."
Daemon choked your name in pure disbelief, holding one of your wrists in a vice grip that only briefly concerned you. He panted and relaxed into the embankment, loosening his grip as he turned over to look up at you in shock and wonder. "How is this possible?" He wheezed.
"It's a bit of a long story," you teased softly, caressing his cheek. "Bit of a boring tale, 'M afraid."
"How? How is - how can this be?"
"You needed me," you explained, "thought I'd return the favor since you saved me all those years ago, huh? You got me out of the sea, I got you out of the lake - we're even, yeah?"
He still panted, only staring at you as if he couldn't believe himself. "You've not aged a day," he whispered.
You smiled, petting his cheekbone with your thumb daintly. "You need rest, reprieve, aid," you whispered.
"No, no," he gulped, "not when I just got you back. T-Tell me 's done. Tell me we're done being apart."
"You have a wife still, Daemon. She won't let you go, she wouldn't let us be together."
"Tell me what your flames say."
"Now you trust my flames?"
"When they bring you back to me, yes - oh, fuck yes, I'll believe whatever those fucking flames say. Please, love, for us - consult your flames, tell me what they've said."
You frowned, petting a soaking wet lock of hair from his forehead. Quietly, you whispered, "My Lord showed me what was to pass if I did not come for you... This war, this Dance of Dragons, would claim your life, Daemon. Your wife, your niece... She'll be the end of you, my Prince. You will not survive if you go back to her. Neither of you will survive this... My Lord has shown me that Rhaenyra will meet her end in flames, but following her will cost you your life in water," you glanced at the lake. "Not a death befitting of a Targaryen Prince."
"And now?"
"Now, she will fight her own battles for the first time," you whispered, "and I will return home, and you will make a choice."
He smirked, "We've gone lifetimes apart, like you said before."
"We have."
"I would not go another day," he coughed, wincing in pain. "I do not think I can fight anymore anyways, love. Please... Please."
Daemon never begged. You swallowed harshly, asking him, "No? No more fighting?"
"No," he agreed. "'M so tired, my sweet. I-I can't do this forever," he half-slurred, making you perk up slightly in attention. "Retirement sounds all too appealing now. Rumor will spread that neither Aemond or I lived, it'll be the perfect escape."
You nodded in agreement, flinching when a new voice screeched, "YOU BITCH!"
The pregnant woman you saw on shore stormed towards you, making you chuckle dryly as you had already foreseen this Alys Rivers - pregnant concubine of the One Eyed Prince Aemond and fellow Follower of R'hllor. Alys was unique in the sense that her training was decent enough to ensnare Aemond (it seemed), but not so decent that the Lord yet favored her.
She wasn't more than ten feet from you when the Great Shadow opened her mouth and showered the Red Witch in holy flames; an end she surely did not see coming - not that R'hllor would've showed her. This all caught Daemon's attention, who flinched slightly when he had to turn and look; not expecting the flames nor the beast.
Then his eyes drifted over the land, breathing hitching, and he sat up with a painful groan. "Daemon," you worried, but instead of trying to get him down, you helped him up.
You knew what he saw.
When at Caraxes' side, you helped Daemon lower to his knees at his dragon's head. He whimpered and moaned, belly slashed open, wing torn apart; bleeding out into the cold soil he rested on. The Great Shadow moaned gently in sympathy, lowering herself around you three to let you grieve in peaceful, protective privacy and ease Caraxes to his next life.
The moon was fully in the sky when the crimson bloodwyrm took his final breath with the ebony giant's flames to warm you all. You weren't sure what could be done, but Daemon was pressing a tender kiss to his dragon's head before turning to face you - a lost, confused, vulnerable look coating his features. "Come on, love," you eased gently, helping him to his feet; knowing a few ribs were shattered and probably his clavicle, too.
"Where will we go now?"
"Well, I have somewhere safe for us t'live," you grunted in assurance, wobbling a little under his weight. "But we need rest for tonight. Any ideas?"
"I doubt anyone will venture to Harrenhal this night, should be safe..."
You agreed, and together, you and Daemon settled in the empty castle with the Great Shadow resting on the outskirts of the Keep. She was too big for the interior of the courtyard, so, she was left outside with Caraxes' corpse as you and Daemon settled in the room he had commandeered.
"How is this possible? How can you be here?" He asked, holding your hips as you worked between his spread legs. Daemon had minimal supplies at the ready; hopping up on a work bench to let you care for his injuries and wounds. He watched your every move with a softening look. "I thought I wouldn't ever see you again, that I'd be cursed to only remember you in my dreams. Rhaenyra said I say your name a lot at night, when I sleep."
"I'm really here, Daemon, ease yourself," you offered an assuring grin, tending to the head wounds he obtained from the fight.
"How?"
"Nettles."
"What?"
"Nettles," you repeated with a smirk. "She's one of my Little Birds, Daemon. It was not entirely coincidence she found you..."
"So she said," he frowned. "But how - "
"She told me you needed me," you smiled softly. "And when I consulted the flames, I was shown what could be. I made a decision, I just wanted you safe, no matter what that meant."
"I just want you. Fuck," he seethed, squeezing your hips, "'s been fucking decades since I've even touched you."
"You're delirious," you teased. "Sleep deprived, maybe concussed."
"Perhaps all at once, but I finally have all I've dreamt of. Please," he whispered, "do not deny us longer. I've endured lifetimes - "
"Daemon, being here and now, you know I can't walk away. But we've time t'talk it all out, I need you to let me help your wounds - so sit still."
He nodded, "One thing I do not understand, though - the dragon? How did you...?"
"Spent two years in Valyria, looking for her."
"Why were you there?"
"Searching for a dragon, of course," you smirked. "She's impressive, isn't she? And from her size, I wager she can easily support us both back across the Narrow Sea."
He grit his teeth when you cleaned his open cuts and wounds, wrapping whatever clean cloth you had around the larger wounds; easing him out of his tunic to have better access to the blackened ribs he sported. "Would you tell me?" Daemon whispered some time later.
"Of what?"
"Your life since the Stepstones?"
"Oh," you chuckled, "sweet love, you know it was dreadfully boring without you."
"Doesn't seem it, you being in Valyria two years? That's not heard of, what was it like? How'd you survive? Why go looking for a dragon?"
This lead to you both laying in bed, hands held together, resting, but not sleeping. You just spoke quietly, fingertips tracing idly over each other's faces; sharing in each others lives that the other missed, reminiscing together in fond memories.
When morning broke, you had to move swiftly. Caraxes was left where he laid and after a final parting to the loyal beast and commandeering his saddle, together, you and Daemon mounted the Great Shadow. She wasn't a fan of the restraints, but once you and Daemon were mounted, she did not fuss as it was evident you humans had an easier time with the leather contraption.
"I must confess," Daemon whispered in your ear, using you as an anchor and leaning into your back, "I fear I might feel something akin to guilt for fleeing home."
"That's natural," you assured, "you're leaving family behind, 's never easy."
"There was no winning this war," he admitted, sighing. "I lead so many to their death... Destroyed my family - "
"From what I have heard, this is not your doing," you argued sharply. "That night, when Aemond attacked Lucerys, what were you to do? Leave that kind of atrocity without consequence? No, that is not in the Targaryen's nature. You did not start this war, Daemon."
"But I knew..."
"You knew what?"
"I knew Jace, Luke, and Joffrey were Harwin Strong's, not Laenor Velaryon's. We thought if we married her sons to my daughters, nobody would care much else about lineage - but we were wrong."
"It's okay to be wrong," you promised, leaning your head back to let your forehead rest against his temple. "It's okay to make mistakes or have regret. Tell me, do you wish to return to your wife? I will take you now, no quest - "
"No. No, I do not wish to leave you. This is... This is Rhaenyra's war, I've done my part. I'm free and finally with whom I belong."
"Now it's time to heal," you told him.
"Time to rest," he agreed, squeezing your waist and placing a few kisses to your neck. "This is where I should've been all this time... After the Stepstones, I should've stayed with you, none of this would've come to pass. I regret leaving you everyday - "
"I told you, for us to get here, to this point, now, we had to separate. But look where we are," you smiled back at him, the Great Shadow soaring higher in the sky to keep Westeros at a distance, "we will not be apart again. 'S you and me, love... Until our end, which we will greet together."
Daemon's lips found yours at long last, whispering, "Together," against them before sweeping his tongue against yours.
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The port was lovely this time of day, sun high in the sky to give light to the fishermen and vendors hard at work. Sailors made port, calms were being shucked, different Aristocats trying to barter and trade on their journeys abroad. You smiled at the people you passed, grateful to be home after a prolonged absence; arm looped tight with Daemon's as you both strolled the pier.
"It's hard to imagine you've done all this in a lifetime or less," he mused, a hand folded over yours, dressed in the best clothes you could find. "It's s marvel, my sweet," his compliment was sincere.
"Thank you," you whispered, hugging his arm as your skirts swished around your ankles, just tickling your bare feet. "This season's expected to be bountiful," you told him, pointing to the various teams bringing crustaceans, fish, and other sea life in different crates and traps. "I expect there won't be much of an off-season."
He glanced around, "And you don't collect taxes?"
"Why would I?" You scoffed. "We're more dynamic than that. Everyone works for their place, if you wanted to think of it that way. They are not expected to contribute, but the village seems happier that way. Being close knit, helping one another, sharing wealth. No one person has complained, so, I figure it's working so far. Even if it didn't work, I still wouldn't charge them taxes - it'd be like charging them to live. Always seemed silly t'me."
"Morning, Mistress!"
"Morning, Don," you beamed, leading Daemon towards the dock. "How are you, kind sir? Looks as if you've been working all day already."
"Aye, up before the sun," he nodded, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Wanted t'thank yah, actually."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, yeah, with that dragon? We're hauling in more ships," he chuckled, and just overhead, the Great Shadow glided over them all to head out to sea to fetch another round of ships. "Gets us out there quick, brings us back when done, 's like a wee bit of an assembly line, ain't it?"
You chuckled, "Sounds like it, friend. Uh, Don, have I introduced you to my husband?"
"Husband?" Don grinned, cocking his head, "No, Mistress, I wasn't aware you even had a suitor. Mariam don't tell me much gossip these days," he snickered, referring to his wife. "It's nice t'meet you," he told Daemon, "name's Don, just Don - no, it ain't short for nothin'."
Daemon smirked some, shaking the man's fishy hand boldly, "A pleasure, Don, Just Don."
"Oh, this one's got a bit uh humor, don't he?" Don laughed lightly. "What's your name, lad?"
"Daemon?" A voice answered for you all, and just above you, a little further on the pier, stood an aged Laenor Velaryon.
"Excuse us, Don," you spoke swiftly, confusion marring your features. He understood or sensed the slight tension, backing off to let you approach the "dead" knight.
"Oh, my - Y/N," Laenor breathed, another aged man at his side with what you assume to be his children. No question could be asked yet as your old friend launched himself into your arms, laughing merrily, giving you a tight squeeze with his still-toned arms. "Oh, the Gods are good for this!" He laughed, rocking you slightly, "Oh, how the Seven bless us."
"You're so dramatic," you laughed back, patting him happily until he pulled back. "But I must confess, I am so fucking confused - what is this? How are you here? I thought you died, Laenor, that's what ever spy reported."
"They should've," he nodded, glancing at Daemon, "but perhaps, the explanation will be better received after some wine?" He caressed your cheek in affection before looking at your husband, nodding, "It's good to see you again, my Prince. Or is it King Consort?"
"Neither, just Daemon," he corrected, your heart soaring a little at the idea that he would abandon his title so easily. Yet you knew, there was nothing to go back to for him.
"Well, how about I introduce my family?"
"Family?" You grinned, seeing him present the others.
"My husband," he gestured, giving his name. "And our kids," he introduced the other three.
"How?" You asked simply.
"We found a Red Priest who was willing to officiate the ceremony," Laenor explained, "and the kids were sired by different mothers, too."
"Whores," the husband smiled.
"Huh," you nodded in impression. "Well, perhaps wine is best to hear that tale, as well?"
"Perhaps," Laenor grinned. "Uh, but first, we should find accommodations - "
"Oh, come off it, you're staying with us," you waved. "Your belongings?"
"This is it," he half-shrugged, you eyeing the few rucksacks around their feet, neck, shoulders... "We heard of the prosperity here, thought it was worth the move."
"How right you are," Daemon answered. "Come, old friend." He picked up a few sacks for the kids and you looped your arm with Laenor's to lead the way. How good it was to have your friend back, your husband at your side, and a functioning, happy village with your placement amongst them most important... Everything you could've wished for, it seemed, came true.
And in your womb, a Dragon Seed was planted; soon to make its announcement known. Truly, a happier ending than you thought deserved - but R'hollr worked mysteriously, blessing those deemed worthy to spread his flames.
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requesting rules and masterlist
HOTD masterlist
note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.
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buckyscombatboots · 2 years
Text
꒰ঌI’ll wait, Angel໒꒱
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Pairing: Boyfriend!Ari x Virgin!Reader
Warnings: virgin!reader, no p in v, size kink, scent kink, reader is waiting till marriage, coming in between her folds, mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, overstimulation, fluff, mentions of Hockey player!Ari, Beefy!Ari (6,4), Soft!Ari, sickeningly sweet
Nicknames: Angel, Doe eyes, Doe, Bambi
Word count: 2.1k
A/N: This idea came from @junipermuses when she wrote this request 🫣
༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀༺
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“I Need you Angel.” The desperation in his tone is unmistakable as he tosses down his gym bag and hockey stick at the entrance of the bedroom. His hair is still a little bit damp from the shower he routinely takes after practice and he seems exhausted, yet his wandering gaze full of lust tells a different story. You let you own eyes wander, raking your gaze over his exposed beefy arms and then further down to his grey sweatpants where a prominent tent is forming between his thick thighs.
You lean over and place your phone on the nightstand, picking up the two bunny plushies Ari had bought, Hops and Thumper, and also placing them on the nightstand, but making sure to turn them around. They didn’t need to see what Ari was about to do to you “How was practice?” You ask innocently as Ari stalks closer, peeling off his grey sleeveless crew neck, throwing it in a corner of the room.
“It went well. Curtis got knocked onto his ass by Bucky, he was pissed. Steve’s been teaching Buck to be more assertive, he almost kicked all of our asses today.” He recounts in a low whisper, crawling across the mattress towards you. He looms over you, raking his eyes over every part of your exposed and unexposed skin; he licks his plump, pink lips like an animal preparing for a meal. His eyes linger at your clavicle and neck before falling to the swell of your breasts, then down further to your hips and exposed thighs. “I outskated Steve today, probably a fluke, but it felt good to finally have a one up on him and Ransom didn’t show up again, he’s gonna get kicked off the team at this rate.” You chuckle at Ari’s small victory, he’s always trying to one up Steve. They act like siblings half the time.
“I’m glad you had a good day. Wish I could have seen Steve’s face when you beat him.” You knew you’d congratulate him better later on, but at the moment Ari seemed preoccupied with his own mission. He runs his giant hands over the white lace that borders the camisole tenderly, before moving to stroke across the silky baby pink material of the rest of the nightie tracing the outline of your body with his hands till he reaches the hem half way down your thigh.
“It was great. But do you know what’s better? You. Your body. I’ve been thinking about you all day, Angel, and to come home and see you in the middle of our bed—in this sexy little chemise is making me feel even better than when I won against Steve. I need you so badly, little Doe.” Ari growled, his large hands bunching your night dress at your hips—as he bends your knees so he can open your legs—revealing your lacey, white underwear with an incriminating damp spot on the silky fabric. Ari takes two fingers and teases at the wet patch, pressing and stretching the fabric with his fingers. He sandwiches your clit between your fingers squeezing it lightly, before rubbing his thumb against the covered button making your insides ache at the promise of the fact that his thick, deft fingers would soon be plunged deep within you. You squirm away slightly from his pleasurable touch, covering your face with your fisted hands and attempt to close your thighs around him. Ari only needs one of his powerful hands to keep your thighs open as he uses his other hand to take a handful of your ass and drag you back towards him “Don’t run from me, Doe eyes. Take all the pleasure I give you.” He pulls you panties down and tosses them to join his crew neck in the corner.
His fingers stretch your tight hole and he inserts them, you’re soaking for him “So tight for me, Angel, always so so tight even when you’re naughty little hole is dripping for me.” He cooes, angling his fingers to rub against the sensitive spongy spot within you. He targets that spot as he fucks his fingers into you. Your pussy sucks his fingers back inside as he pulls them out, not all the way, stopping when the tips of his fingers are the only part remaining inside you. You let out a choked needy sob; pushing your hips against Ari’s stationary fingers, beckoning him to move. “Please Bear!” You keen, your core fluttering around his fingers. His cock twitched at the nickname and he obliges driving his fingers back into you with the addition of another, the burn his thick fingers stretching you open made your nerves buzz. The heat in your tummy builds until your body convulses as you reach climax. Your back arches off the bed; you grab at the pillows behind you squeezing them in your tight grip, your knuckles turning white as you wail and hump his still postponing fingers “So good Ari” you choke, coming down from your high. He takes your hand into his, placing a kiss on the promise ring on your finger and brushes your soft skin against his beard.
“I’m gonna fuck your folds now, Angel, okay?” He thinks for you, running his bulbous, leaking head through your silken folds. Ari bites his lower lips in concentration as he holds the fat base guiding his length, using all the willpower inside of him to not slip inside you. Just imagining how tightly your precious little hole would clamp around him was enough to push him near climax “God, Angel, I can’t wait until I can actually put it in you. It’s gonna go so deep, it’s gonna fill your tight little hole so well.” he briefly rubs the head against your clit and you whimper at the teasing motion. He moves forward slightly, just enough to rest the base of his cock at your enterance and hover his whole cock over your stomach “Fuck. It’s so big compared to you.” Ari holds your face in his hand, the cool metal of the promise ring pressing against your hot skin as he does, and strokes his large thumb over your reddened cheeks. He lowers his face to yours and places a gentle kiss on your lips “I bet you can’t wait either, right my sweet Angel?”
You run your tongue over your lower lip and nod timidly “Can’t wait to be with you forever.” You whisper next to his ear, nuzzling your nose into the area under his jaw, the edge of his thick beard tickling your cheek; you take a deep breath in letting the scent of Ari replace all the oxygen in your lungs. He smelt strongly of magnolia and vanilla, with a tinge of musky sweat that remained from hockey practice. The image of Ari in his hockey gear enters your mind; his muscular frame straining against the mesh of his jersey, the size of his already big hands exaggerated by the bulky, padded gloves—you remember the time he let you try them on, two of you fingers fit in one of the finger holes— Going to any of his games was a struggle, he always had you sat in the front and you had full view of your boyfriend as he glided across the ice with ease; dominating the rink and intimidating the other team, when he came at them at full speed while defending. You could barely focus on the game, only on the face Ari made whilst in a state of extreme focus—it made your whole body burn seeing just how skilled he was, just how hot he was in his gear. Your mind elsewhere, as you wonder about which jockstrap he was wearing under all those layers.
You’re pulled out of your fantasies, by Ari pinching and twisting your nipples that had stiffened into hard peaks. You whine as props himself up on his knees and slots himself fully between your legs, Ari pulls down both of the straps of your nightgown and holds your breasts in his two hands “Perfect size Angel. You drifted back to me from your little imagination yet?” Your moan in response doesn’t satiate him “Speak to me Bambi.” He demands. That nickname… all because you looked like a newborn deer when he first tried to teach you to skate.
He squeezes the soft, warm flesh of your tits in his hands “Ari, want you to move pleaseee.” You cry rolling your hips into his dick that’s resting between you puffy folds, he obliges dragging his length through your dripping lips his heavy balls slapping against you ass as he quickens his pace, ensuring the head of his cock stimulates your throbbing pearl with every thrust. Something about the debaucherous wet sounds of his cocksliding through you folds made it all seem so sinful, you were so happy that Ari was surprisingly fine with waiting till marriage to go all the way with you; but by God if he didn’t make it hard with the way that he completely destroyed you without ever even entering you. Your thighs shake slightly and jostle into Ari, he hisses in response “Bear, are you okay?” You ask, moving your legs away from the spot they had just come in contact with.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Bucky just bashed into me a little too hard during practice” your eyes glance down at his hip and you see the beginnings of a bruise blossoming on his slightly tanned skin “Don’t worry I’ll be fine, you should worry about yourself right now though, Bambi.” Ari’s thumbs roll over your pebbled nipples as he rolls his hip slowly, relishing in your soft moans before driving his hips into yours vehemently a growl leaving his lips when he catches on your hole, it doesn’t slide in only nudges it and you wail in response the action making you even more plaint under his touch and stokes the pleasurable fire, burning hotter and hotter inside you.
You feel Ari’s cock twitch as he rubs against your clit. He takes his length into his hand, fisting his cock as he rubs your clit with his other hand. Your eyes glaze over as you feel the pressure building in your belly yet again. You whine as the coil within you breaks, raising your hips off the mattress like a woman possessed, and shoving your face into the pillows to muffle your cries as your legs shake with the pleasure wracking your body. The sight of you coming undone below him sends him over the edge, Ari throws his head back “Fuck fuck fuckkk.” Letting out a guttural string of curses as he comes, hot ropes of cum spurting out onto your mound and in between your folds. Through hooded eyes he looks down at the mess he made, smirking at the glistening white come decorating your cunt
“So beautiful Angel, like heaven.” He groans, Ari’s head dips between your legs, as he begins to lick and suck the mess of both your arousals out of your cunt; the bristly hair of his thick beard scratching the supple skin of your inner thighs as he laps at you. His tongue grazes your sensitive clit and your hands fly to his hair in an attempt to pull him away from the area; but he takes the bud into his mouth and sucks, looking up at you through his lashes as he does. You gasp as he suck’s ferociously at your clit, you can’t take another orgasm but you were still overly sensitive from your last orgasm. He burrows his tounge inside your, devouring your still clenching hole moaning as he slurps and sucks yours and his juices. He returns to your clit, flicking his tongue against the abused nun before taking it back into his mouth. You see plasmic stars burst behind your eyelids, turning everything behind your eyes into a white abyss as you squirt on his face. He lets go of your clit with a pop, a devilish grin spreading across his reddened, wet lips “You’re sensitive aren’t you little Doe.” Your head is so addled by pleasure that you barely hear him, but you squeak out a yes and he rises from the apex of your thighs and lays down on the bed beside you. He cuddles you close to his chest and uses his long arms to retrieve both bunnies, placing them above your head on the pillow. Ari strokes your hair with his hand as you nudge impossibly closer into his hairy chest, breathing in his scent trying to memorise it.
His warmth envelopes you completely as you lock your arms around his strong back, brushing your hand over the corded muscle of his broad shoulders “I love you, Bear.” Your whispered confession muffled by his chest, he heard you.
“I love you too, and I’ll wait as long as you need, Angel, even after marriage. Whenever you’re ready.”
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Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @flamefoxxrecs @savstranger @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar
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bejeweledblondie · 7 months
Text
König Headcannons
A/N: just like Ghost’s headcannon’s I’m taking inspiration from my experiences living on a military base
Warnings: NSFW
König x F! Reader
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• König initially first met you while you were volunteering with the United Nations & Doctors Without Borders
• you were administering vaccines to children in the Middle East, & providing medical services to the underprivileged communities
• he was awe of your empathy & kindness towards these children, you treated them like they were your own & took your job super seriously
• KorTac was providing security for the community from potential terrorist attacks, as taking any western countries citizen for ransom seemed enticing
• After a surprise attack on the camp that was set up, he immediately brought you to safety & held you as you sobbed into chest out of fear for your life & all those innocent civilians that caught in the gunfire
• “shhh, schatz it’ll be okay” he whispered to you
• he finally asked you out after months of waiting for the right time
• you were giving him his flu shot when he asked you out
• your first date was in his off post apartment, he had cooked you homemade Austrian food
• his cooking is divine, he always chef’s it up in the kitchen
• you guys moved in only a few months into dating (which seems early but in the military world you’re slacking)
• he proposed with his Oma’s ring
• he also asked your parents over FaceTime for your hand in marriage, they were reluctant but he was very persuasive
• you’d probably wind up working at the hospital on post, & the soldiers that come in 100% know you’ll take care of them
• during Christmas leave both of your families meet in Vienna for Christmas time, I mean cmon Vienna is gorgeous at Christmas
• you two announce your pregnancy at Christmas dinner
• his Oma jumped up & ran over to hug you
• this man’s genes are freakin strong
• you definitely get pregnant with twins
• König is deployed when you find out & you tell him over FaceTime
• he cried pure tears of joy & his whole team celebrated
• due to the fact he’s like a giant he produces large babies
• you’d have to get a c-section for the birth because of it, & König makes it in the last second.
• he still had his hood on & was in his tactical gear scaring the entire nursing staff
• imagine their surprise when he just asks where his wife is
• you have a girl & a boy
• they’d definitely be named after his grandparents
• he sings lullaby’s in Austrian to them to introduce them to his home country’s culture
• he hates leaving for deployments now that they’re born & he definitely became more ruthless on the battlefield due to it
• he 100% would bring the babies to work whenever it was a mandatory fun day or a super relaxed day at work
• these hardened military men would be all over your babies & arguing as to who gets to hold them next
• they’re very well protected & König made sure of that
• he’s a family man at heart & he will do anything to protect them
✨NSFW ✨
• you weren’t very experienced when you met König & when you first saw his cock you were in absolute disbelief a man could be that hung
• you let your intrusive thoughts win & asked if he’d fit inside of you
•it took a lot of foreplay for him to fully fit snug in you
• he definitely would say the most absolutely filthy things in Austrian to you even if you understood them or not
• massive size & breeding kink
• he just loves how small your hands are compared to his cock you need both of them to jerk him off
• when he found out you were pregnant he was elated that his efforts worked out
• loved to see your body change & baby bump grow
• also loved how horny you were as a pregnancy symptom ( it killed him that you’d have to deal with that alone while he was deployed)
• like most military men he too has a collection of your nudes & plenty of videos of him fucking you
• he loves your hips & how wide they are to him it digs deep into the primal instinct of carrying his babies
• König is just as stealthy in bed as he is in on the battlefield
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Note
Hello can I please request a scenario where the reader messes with the character by saying “I like you too” instead of “I love you too” with Hu Tao, Furina, UMP45, STAR 15 and Makoto from Persona?? Thank you!!
(Genshin Impact/GFL/Persona 5)
Hu Tao, Furina, Shenhe, UMP45, ST AR-15, and Makoto's S/O messing with them
Adding in Shenhe because I felt like writing her! (As per usual)
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Hu Tao has to take a second to register what S/O had replied with.
"I like you, too"?
Hu Tao halts before her foot is out the door, turning around with a smirk and eyebrow raised.
(Hu Tao) "Oh? We're being like that today are we?"
(S/O) "Like what?"
Hu Tao taps her finger on their nose as she crosses her arms, smiling.
(Hu Tao) "I'm not leaving until you say it properly!"
(S/O) "Psh, no you won't."
(Hu Tao) "Unlike you, I don't need to be physically present at my job today, so I absolutely can!"
S/O had to relent after that. Because she was right, she would prevent S/O from leaving.
And even if they managed to get away, the prank Hu Tao would play as retaliation would probably not be worth it.
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Furina pouts when S/O didn't even say "I love you back". The audacity!
Her hands move to her waist, giving a harsh glare to S/O.
Well, as harsh of a glare as Furina can manage. If anything, it makes her look adorable.
(Furina) "You don't even want to say it back to me, your girlfriend?! Oh, you wound my heart!"
S/O chuckled at her dramatic response.
(S/O) "As if you didn't do this very thing to me last week!"
(Furina) "Hmph! Fine, be that way, for I will not declare my love for you if this is the response I should expect!"
She tilts her head away and begins marching away from the door, still pouting.
It was obvious she wasn't genuinely offended, but two could play at this game!
She could actually keep this bit up for weeks, if prompted.
S/O does not, lest they incur her verbal wrath for the next month or so and demanding a ransom of sweets.
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Shenhe stoically turns to S/O, noticing their lips were trying their best not to break into a full smile.
(Shenhe) "...S/O, did I do something wrong?"
They shook their heads and covered their laughter with one hand.
(S/O) "Sorry, I couldn't resist teasing, Shenhe. I just wanted to see your reaction."
Shenhe blinks and tilts her head in confusion.
(Shenhe) "What do you mean? All you said was that you liked me."
(S/O) "Oh, that's what you're referring to. I figured you were going to ask me why I said 'I like you' instead I love you."
(Shenhe) "That goes without saying, does it not? For us, it means the same thing."
S/O chuckled and couldn't disagree with that logic.
(S/O) "Got me there."
Shenhe, for her part, was still very confused.
What was the joke?
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45 frowns before she turns back to S/O, adjusting the hair out her face.
(UMP45) "Wow, so that's what I get after opening my heart to you?"
Those words were rarely said by 45, even less so when she was about to depart for an operation.
She looked genuinely hurt, which made S/O rush up to try to ease her anger.
(S/O) "S-Sorry! It was just a joke-"
They were interrupted when 45 broke into a smirk and cut them off with a kiss.
(UMP45) "Mhm, and so was that. Now, say it properly this time, would you?"
Both of them chuckled lightly before S/O gave the correct reply.
(S/O) "I love you, too."
(UMP45) "Not so hard, was it?
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STAR pouts when she hears S/O's response, making her face them.
STAR had a hard time saying it without blushing madly, and this time was no exception.
So to get that in response?
(ST AR-15) "Hey, that's not funny!"
S/O barely held back their amusement, making STAR's annoyance grow.
STAR flicks their forehead gently, taking care to not put too much of her T-Doll strength into it.
(ST AR-15) "S-Say it, already!"
With a tight hug around her, S/O gives in, but still laughing.
(S/O) "Sorry, sorry, couldn't resist. Love you too, STAR."
(ST AR-15) "Good..."
She squeezes them back before leaving the room.
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Makoto hesitates on departing, taking in what S/O had replied with.
(Makoto) "Like me?"
(S/O) "It's what I said!"
Makoto looks a bit disheartened at the response.
(Makoto) "I see..."
Before her mind could wander, it was brought back to S/O when she heard them chuckle.
(S/O) "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad! I just wanted to tease you."
Makoto's blush crept up on her cheeks for a brief moment before she cleared her throat.
(Makoto) "Ah, my apologies. I suppose I'm still getting used to this kind of banter in a relationship-"
S/O cut her off by giving her a kiss on the cheek, making her face burn red for a different reason.
(S/O) "Don't apologize. You're cute when you blush."
Makoto stammers over her words before simply sighing and smiling back.
(Makoto) "I'll just take the compliment...Next time, I should play a joke like that on you."
Which would be easy, if she had a sense of humor.
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yxami · 8 months
Text
Lawrence part 2, trying to write silly stuff to get my brain started
desc: yandere victim yandere x kidnapper reader, gn reader, male yandere, slight nsfw, is it stockhold syndrome if he was dreaming abt it b4 it happened?
Lawrence:
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You cupped Lawrence’s cheek, gliding your hands across his smooth silky skin before he gasps at the soft touch. Unable to move, too anxious to move himself away from his crush, call it stockholm syndrome, manipulation, whatever, but there was no way he would reject your advances after so much anticipation. He’s been waiting too long to pass up on you finally reciprocating his feelings.
Well, what he thought was reciprocating but was actually a tactic to get him talking about when his parents would transfer the 500k into your account.
Something that would never actually happen.
Not with your victim begging his parents to let him stay longer. He had managed to convince his parents that he was fine and that you were his possessive friend who wanted to have a few sleepovers back to back. You wouldn’t have known about him even having a second phone until you saw him tweeting about how hard he’s crushing on someone.
That someone being you. You knew it from day one. You should’ve known having him tied in a chair, being teased for information would only cause this delusional fucker to love you even more. He’s still slightly convinced that you’re just a nervous wreck trying to mask your intentions instead of the reality of him being genuinely kidnapped for ransom.
“Ren, tell me, when are they going to give me the money so I can finally release you?” You rubbed his thigh, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen how tighter his pants looked in the matter of seconds, just ignore the forming dark spot, that’s not important!
“I Mmph- um..” He babbled, voice cracking as he tried to form his words, only for them to come out incoherent with his glassy eyes staring up at you. “I dunno..”
“I know your parents have that kind of money, why aren’t they giving it? Hmm?” You asked once more, wondering what it would take for him to spill the truth, maybe you’d have to actually take it as far as to touch the guy. He seemed excited enough already, judging by how his legs opened up a fraction at you rubbing his inner thighs, as if his body was instinctively revealing itself for you.
“Maybe they’re busy?? Ah— please please” He pleaded, unsure of what he was begging for. It could’ve been asking you to run your hand more across his inner thigh and bulge, or for you to keep speaking to him while he’s in this drunk haze of being addicted to your touch, to you, to everything.
“What would they be busy with? Too busy to think about their dear son? I know you’re spoiled, just look at you” You unintentionally spat your words with slight venom, being envious of what riches he grew up with, so much so that he’d have trouble seeing the struggles you grew up with.
Your fingers firmly wrapped at his jaw, turning his head to see the sides of his face, seeing how the blush poured over every area that you managed to affect.
A surprised whimper escape from his lips, causing him to try to pull his face away, he doesn’t think he can handle anymore teasing, grabbing and you pulling on area you’d like, treating him like he’s yours and only yours to play with. God this is hotter than he expected, a little too much to handle, and yet he still can’t help himself to blurt out stupid things to get you to overwhelm him more than you already have.
He should be chastised for liking this so much, but this was written in every page of his book, getting tied and bound by you, interrogating him with no chance to get away, you might as well propose because he will soon!!
“They’re p-probably distracted with work so.. they haven’t noticed?” Lawrence hates being in-genuine with you, but he has to. He doesn’t want you kicking him out for lying through his teeth about something like this. It’s just a simple switch of the words, you’ll understand soon enough right?
You glanced at his phone, practically teleporting across the room, why didn’t you just search his phone? There was no need for you to be asking him if he just unlocked it!
“Um.. I can’t do that” He pushed his bottom lip out into a contemplating expression, he’s never declined anything you wanted but he has to right now. He doesn’t want you finding out the texts that he sent to his parents, you’d definitely get mad!
“Why?” You glared at him, leaning close so he could see your hatred for his defiance. Especially after he’s been so cooperative with giving you all the information you needed, yet suddenly when it comes to the money and contacting his parents he refuses to?
It makes no sense!
Why wouldn’t he— The realization finally hit you. He’s been telling you answer since the start. He’s in love with you and the idea of being kidnapped, of course he wouldn’t fucking tell his parents. He must’ve said something to them when he had his second phone. This is why they haven’t contacted you in a week!
So what now, you were stuck with this pervert?? You wanted the money but not enough to stay by him for as long as he wanted. Maybe you should find someone else and let him go. How unlucky were you to get this guy as your first victim.
“I’m sorry.. please don’t ignore me” Lawrence whispered out, looking up at you with that familiar look in his eyes. The sight that expressed a love sick look even if you were right in front of him. “I wanna tell you!! But you’ll be upset and I don’t want you to be mad” He whined, leaning towards you with a sorrow filled look.
His looks were convincing, you hated it but his adorable pout and expressions were never feigned!
“You texted them didn’t you? Probably something like you were fine and to not send anything?” You exhaled, no longer in the mood to get mad. You had no clue that was even possible.
“Mm…” He whined, looking at you, then at his hands that anxiously fiddled with each other, his eyes would flicker at you and then to the other. He wasn’t too sure if he should just spill it or not but ultimately he decided to obey. “Yeah.. I’m sorry” His frown increasing with tears that welled up in his eyes, causing them to be more shiny and pitiful than usual.
“God, I don’t know what I’m even gonna do with you, at this point I don’t even think I need you tied up” You mumbled your last sentence, deciding to test it out by untying him. It would probably be better if he ended up faking that he saw this situation in a red heart shaped glasses type of way.
“Huh? You’re untying me? N—No! Please don’t let me go, I don’t want to go back at least not right now” Tears streamed down Ren’s face, clearing showing he wasn’t ready to leave now. He was already on the verge of sobbing as he clung onto you.
You opened your mouth to tell him something along of the lines that you weren’t doing that but you couldn’t help but want to see if he was being real about wanting to stay so badly. Surely it was just a simple scenario that would be crushed once he realized the severity of it?
“Please..? I’m sorry I disobeyed you” His doe eyes forcefully making eyecontact with you, refusing to look away as if you’d punish him for doing so. “Just give me another chance? I swear I’ll be so good for you..” His whiny tone more evident while his bottom lip quivered, sniffling as he kept his arms around you.
“I was just untying you, you can leave if you want but you obviously don’t.. so just do whatever you want” You sort of mumbled, what were you supposed to do after testing him? It’s not like you could call his parents and tell them to pick up their son that refused to leave. He could snitch you out if he was mad enough anyways.
But his infatuated stare that you could feel burning holes in the back of your head said otherwise.
While you stepped up the stairs you were too lost in thought to hear his hesitant steps after yours. He pondering whether to follow you or not but he didn’t want you to leave his sight so he did. Maybe you’d let him roam around the house now, the only time you ‘technically’ let him was when he had to go to the bathroom.
“Um.. I can try cooking and cleaning the house while you work, will that convince you?” Lawrence followed close, on your tail while he wrapped his hands together, he wanted to hold onto you for comfort but grabbed his arm that reached out for you before you notice he tried.
“Convince me how?” You leaned against your kitchen counter, your palms resting right at the edge while your lower back pressed against it too, your calm demeanor only made him more comfortable that you were his kidnapper. If you were someone different, they would’ve never let him up here let alone speak to him like this. In such a friendly yet commanding tone..
“That I’m loyal! I’ll try to convince you that I’m good and how I can provide things for you!” He perked up at the chance to prove himself, you could see his eyes light up because of it. “Um.. but it can’t be money yet because I haven’t gotten my allowance and I don’t think my parents would give me 500k out of nowhere” He had an apologetic demeanor while looking at the floor, hoping his honesty helped with the situation.
You hummed in a approving tone, opening your fridge to look for something to snack on, or brunch if possible. Chinese left overs? Eggs with bacon if you wanted, or instant noodle soup if you weren’t in the mood to cook. Those were the only options that seemed appetizing.
“Can I help cook breakfast?” Lawrence stood behind the fridge door, towering over you while he leaned to see what you were observing. You turned your head up, seeing the unfamiliar sight of him facing down at you instead of the opposite where he’d sit in a chair and stare up.
“Yeah sure, grab a big pan while I get some of the stuff we need” You pointed, a little dazed at trying to get used to this new found roommate, at least for now, until you found a solution.
If only you knew this would be a permanent solution, at least until Lawrence decided to terminate this unspoken contract. You should’ve known it was sealed by the blush on his face after your approval to him proving his worth! Now, he has all the freedom to impress you that he’s a worthy husband roommate!
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months
Text
the murder at evergreen university
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a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡
summary:  just a slutty murder mystery
warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive
word count: 11.100
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist
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Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home. 
Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep. 
“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated. 
“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?” 
Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”
“Um, on a Saturday it is.” 
Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. 
“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”
“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.” 
“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”
“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”
Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.” 
“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”  
“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully. 
“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”
“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage. 
Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”
“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water. 
“Yeah.”
“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”
Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise. 
“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.
“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”
“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”
Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely. 
In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs. 
“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”
“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”
“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”
“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought. 
Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.
“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.
“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room. 
Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?” 
Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”
After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.
“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”
Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience. 
“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.
“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.” 
“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”
“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame. 
“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”
“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.
Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”
Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. 
Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.” 
“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”
“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”
“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”
Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.
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“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer. 
“What do you mean?”
Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”
“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly. 
“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”
“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story. 
“None of us have.”
“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”
“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”
“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”
“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”
Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?” 
“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”
“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”
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“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”
As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.
Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”
“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.
Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.
“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”
He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration. 
“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”
“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips. 
Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.
You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.
“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”
“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now. 
“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?” 
“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.
Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.
“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”
“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”
“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”
“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”
“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter. 
“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both. 
“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly. 
“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”
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Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.
“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.” 
Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”
“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”
“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!” 
Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”
Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”
“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”
“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was. 
“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”
“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged. 
Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”
“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back. 
“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”
Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”
“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead. 
“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”
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Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed. 
“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”
“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”
“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”
“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”
“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”
Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”
“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.  
“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.” 
Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.
“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.
“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”
“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.
“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.
“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips. 
Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.” 
Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again. 
“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” 
His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog. 
“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes. 
A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed. 
“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”
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“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating. 
“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”
Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”
Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed. 
“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again. 
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Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again. 
Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”
“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend. 
“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form. 
“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile. 
Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body. 
“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.
“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night. 
“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”
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“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?” 
“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in. 
“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?” 
He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core. 
“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside. 
Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation. 
“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room. 
You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”
“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?” 
“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”
Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”
“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.” 
Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”
Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze. 
“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.  
Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?” 
“Yeah.”
Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?” 
“Y/n Y/l/n.” 
“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”
“I am.”
Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?” 
“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.” 
“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?” 
“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.” 
“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?” 
“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out. 
“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”
“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.
“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”
“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents. 
Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”  
“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”
“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door. 
Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?” 
“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated. 
Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”
Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.” 
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It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about. 
The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.  
The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class. 
“Why don’t you go ask him?” 
“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”
Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.” 
Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”
“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.
Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”
From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake. 
“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”
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“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely. 
“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”
“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”
“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall. 
“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with. 
Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”
“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”
“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”
“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently. 
Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”
“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.
“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”
“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”
“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”
“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”
Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”
“So…” he echoed.
“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”
“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”
Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.” 
“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin. 
“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?” 
“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”
“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”
“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.” 
“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”
“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”
Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”
“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”
“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.  
Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know?” you asked wearily. 
“Know what?”
“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”
Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.” 
“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?” 
“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”
“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”
“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”
“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”
“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”
“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily. 
“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”
Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”
“What?” you blinked. 
“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”
“What? Why?”
Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”
Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”
“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 
But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”
Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”
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You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights. 
You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such. 
“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.” 
Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!” 
The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips. 
“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind. 
“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.” 
“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.” 
Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”
“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom,  caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form. 
The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask. 
Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”
Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back. 
“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.
“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”
“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”
Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”
Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.
Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you. 
“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”
Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have. 
Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”
“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.
“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”
“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs. 
Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”
“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”
Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”
“Yes.”
“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”
“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.
“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”
Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”
“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.
“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”
Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.
Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!”  water splashing onto both of their feet. 
“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side. 
“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold. 
“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”
“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more. 
“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”
“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”
Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”
Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”
The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”
The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?” 
“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”
“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”
Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”
Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”
“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”
“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”
The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.
“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”
Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”
Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”
“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”
“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…” 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully. 
In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room. 
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!” 
“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.” 
“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”
After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.” 
“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?” 
Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”
“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.
“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.” 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
917 notes · View notes
trinittyy · 9 months
Text
fic recs
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just a little assortment of my favorite works to keep track of them and also show love to the respective writers.
note - a majority, if not all, of the following works contain dark content that some could find triggering. tread carefully.
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divider by @firefly-graphics
toxic affection - @love-toxin
warnings: harassment, bullying, some violence, forced relationship
pairing: yandere!bakugou x reader
literally unashamed to say that BNHA fanfiction is what brought me to Tumblr
but this was one of the first I found and it's epic
what's your escape - @gotnofucks
warnings: obsession, possessive behavior, non-con
pairing: dark!sherlock holmes x reader
the man is disastrously down bad for the poor reader
she was so witty and clever but in the end, he got what he wanted in the most satisfying way
infatuation - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor - masterlist
warnings: mentions of stalking, obsession, non-con
pairing: dark!clark kent x reader
poor girl didn't have a clue or a chance in the world to escape this man
sidenote: I can't add Roo to the recs without mentioning just how talented she is. She was the first proper introduction to dark fics in the Marvel fandom and I've been hooked ever since. The amount of detail and dedication that goes into her work is noticeable and she's a talent that deserves recognition. It's one thing to make me like a fic or two of my favorite Marvel men but another to have me thirst over shit I didn't think I'd like.
naughty ransom holiday tales - @jtargaryen18
warnings: kidnapping, non-con, dub-con
pairing: dark!ransom drysdale x reader
guilty pleasure series
hate to love ransom but I can't help it
what the king has - @sincerelythedarkside
warnings: dub-con, character death
pairing: soft!dark steve rogers x reader
royal au
love me a good jealous steve
plot twist shocked the shit outta me
smut was out of this fucking world
love bites - @cherienymphe - masterlist
warnings: character death, jealousy, non-con
pairing: dark!steve rogers x reader, peter parker x reader
modern vampire au (what's not to love there)
this actually made me cry like a bitch
ongoing series
sidenote: Seeing as Cherie will be on this list many times, I have to say it's difficult not to add every piece of work on this list because while some writers have a magnum opus, everything she writes is a work of art. Her range and the backstory she puts in her characters make each story feel like a movie I just can't get enough of. Will forever love her writing.
kryptonite - @cherienymphe
warnings: non-con, obsession
pairing: dark!bruce wayne x reader
the build-up and tension gave me actual chills
trailer park babydoll - @mypoisonedvine
warnings: dub-con, infidelity, age gap
pairing: wayne munson x reader
guilty pleasure fic
absolute filthy smut
wrath of the dragon - @straywords
warnings: non-con, chasing
pairing: dark!daemon targaryen x reader
yet another down bad man
overdue - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
warnings: creepy curtis, non-con, obsessive behavior
pairing: dark!curtis everett x reader
there's little to nothing i love more than a good ole broody man with attachment issues
anxious - @syntheticavenger
warnings: stalking, kidnapping
pairing: dark!peter parker x reader
tasm peter
cutest in a way lol little fic
the dream that got away - @dotieeee
there's not nearly enough dark fics ft my fave peter so I love this one
warnings: dub-con, non-con, manipulation, controlling behavior, obsession
pairing: dark!morpheus x oc!mera
probably the first dark fic about morpheus
each chapter was a masterpiece
and i still haven't seen the show lol
thanks for the invite - @syntheticavenger
warnings: non-con, bitchy friend behavior, implied drugging (i think), oral (f receiving), slight bondage
pairing: dark!lloyd hansen x reader
a funny little unhinged lloyd fic
rsvp - @syntheticavenger
warnings: dub-con, hide and seek, exasperated bodyguard, exhibitionism (a bit)
sequel to the fic listed above
lloyd is still unhinged and reader is still suffering
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yandereloversblog · 2 years
Note
Hello dear. Can I request some bonten yandere where reader tries to flee and is successful but they find her a few months/years again? (And maybe reader was pregnant when she ran away and now they have a kis too?)
Anyways please don't forget to stay hydrated <3
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧
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╰┈➤ . . . 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚍
╰┈➤ . . . 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: 𝚃𝚘𝚔𝚢𝚘 𝚁𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜
╰┈➤ . . . 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚒𝚛𝚘 "𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢" 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚘, 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚢𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚣𝚞, 𝚁𝚊𝚗 𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚒, 𝚁𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚞 𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚒, 𝙷𝚊𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙺𝚘𝚔𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚒, 𝙺𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚘
╰┈➤ . . . 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝚃𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 , 𝚄𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚎𝚝, 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙸𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚣𝚞, 𝙰 𝚐𝚞𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍, 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝, 𝚁𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚞𝚣 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖
╰┈➤ . . . 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜
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Me: I feel like I'm forgetting something.
"If you forgot about it, it probably wasn't important"
Me: Yeah you're right.
Mocchi and Takeomi: 😶
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-> 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 "𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐲" 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨
First of all how the fuck did you escape this man and his 152 invisible bodyguards where they all, including Mikey who's his own breed of helicopter, keep constant watch on you???
Smart girl- Not to mention how you didn't want to raise your child in that environment.
At first Mikey would think you're kidnapped by his enemies and held for ransom, and send his men on a wild goose chase to find you but after a week without any contact from said kidnappers the boy fell into a very heavy depression state.
The executives experienced hell for months with trying to make sure Mikey didn't end up killing himself because he lost you.
"What's the fucking point, she's gone- she's DEAD!"
Fast forward to one or two years and Sanzu, for once, didn't give a fuck about slamming the doors open as he entered Mikey's room, he just had to announce that a few of their man caught sight of you, his king will finally try to live again.
Mikey has never dropped everything so fast, preparing everything to go pick you up.
His emotions running high and mixed with his dark impulses Mikey didn't know if he should hug you when he sees you first or pull the trigger and kill you.
Let's say your house became a mess when he arrived and saw you trying to hide.
"Quit hiding [Y/N]... FUCKING COME OUT!... Dear, if you fucking listen to me right now maybe I won't chop off your legs and chain you in one place like a disobedient dog."
In the end what alerted Mikey was the cries of a child- a child???
When you came out of your hiding spot to see the mess around you started crying too, protectively holding onto your baby and pleading, Mikey's insane eyes glued to the child as he approached.
"... What is this."
Mikey ignored your cries and pleas as he ripped the baby away from you.
Man placed a whole loaded gun on the 1 year old's chest. And he was sure he'd kill you right after, did you have an affair? No, he couldn't let you go off that easy-
Only thing that stopped him from pulling the trigger was the sudden notice of the black eyes staring at him, albeit they were crying but they were just like his.
Mikey took a moment to process the child, had you been pregnant when you left?
He let the gun drop to the floor before properly hugging the crying one year old, impulses dying down as he looked at your quivering body on the floor.
Mikey would kneel down right in front of you and show you a sick twisted smile.
"Angel~ did you really run away because you thought I wouldn't accept you? You were scared I wouldn't love our child? How silly~"
Mikey would laugh, free hand reaching to grab your neck and pull you closer to a kiss.
He'll let go and give you such a sweet smile despite how both you and your child are crying your eyes out.
"Let's never make that mistake again hmm?~ Let's go back home. Now. Ahh you have so much to tell me about our baby~"
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-> 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮
Now Sanzu might be a mess, but he for sure wouldn't lose sight of you- including with the help of the tracking devices he placed on you.
Then suddenly one day you disappeared, not leaving any traces behind.
It hit him way harder than it should've.
Always near the bring of overdosing.
Not to mention the many, MANY nights he always cried himself to sleep because he missed you -will never admit it though-
Unlike Mikey, Sanzu would never accept that you're dead, he'd search for you non-stop.
Retracing every step and working all alone on it.
"Where is she...? Where the fuck are you, you stupid bitch... When I find out I'll make a mess out of you, [Y/N]."
And he did, being in a business trip out of the country, having a smoke late at night and frantically tapping away at his phone, hoping the cameras caught sight of you.
Yet he stopped when a woman carefully pushing a stroller walked past him. Then he heard her voice and Sanzu had half a mind to go there and grab you to make sure.
And he did. Sanzu, gun in hand and flicking the cig off, grabbed you by your hair and yanked you to see your face, you could only tremble in shock and fear at the crazed grin on his face after he realized who you were.
Unlucky to you Bonten had the whole area deserted for business yet you just stumbled into the trap.
"Oh fuck- hey there sweetheart~ lovely night we're having huh? Almost LIKE I WASN'T FUCKING SEARCHING FOR YOU EVERYWHERE FOR NEARLY A YEAR LIKE A PATHETIC FOOL!"
Sanzu would've yelled more at you, threatening you with the gun as well, if he didn't hear the cries of the two month old baby in the stroller.
Your blood ran cold and Sanzu's was boiling with anger. Swiftly moving to take a better look of the child while still tugging at your hair. Making sure you didn't make a run for it.
Did you escape to have a bastard with someone else?
"Hey doll face, who the fuck is this loud little shit?"
Sanzu ignored your words and please as he leaned closer to glare at the child, only to have identical teary blue eyes stare back at him when the baby girl opened her eyes.
Sanzu stared back in shock before looking back at you, almost as if to confirm.
Against your better judgement you just nodded, muttering that she was his, hoping Sanzu didn't end up shooting her.
"I see I see~... I was going to drug your ass and make sure you couldn't probably function as a human being without me but honestly~"
He'd grin and playfully point the gun at your child.
"I want 5 more of these little mutts, don't worry, if you behave I behave, it's only fair~... But if you ever pull some bullshit like these again I'm shooting all of them dead."
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-> 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢
With all of Ran's rules, it seems almost impossible to escape, but you managed to do so.
And here he thoughts you finally got used to everything, that he broke you down and build you up as he wanted.
Nobody has ever seen the relaxed Ran so out of his composure before, not even his brother, trying to find a single person and failing to do so miserably.
At some point Ran might convince himself you're dead to save his sanity -lmao what sanity-, his ego as well because you managed to escape his clutches and left him completely broken and empty.
But Ran will never find it in himself to move on no matter what he does.
"[Y/N]... If you're alive, I'm sure we'll cross paths once again... And when we do you better have a good fucking explanation."
And of course you do.
When a boy, not any older than 3 bumped into his leg accidentally.
Ran gave him an annoyed glance yet had to freeze when realizing the boy looked practically exactly like him when he was young, but the [E/C] eyes were exactly like yours.
And soon after the boy comes the mother, both you and Ran stared at each other in shock when you came into the future.
Your face contorted into fear at Ran's emotionless and empty gaze once he got over his initial surprise at seeing you.
Without a care, Ran leaned down and picked up your child, ignoring how the boy began to sob and just knocked him out.
"You better follow what I say very carefully, [Y/N]. Unless you want our son to pay for it... He is OUR son right?... I suppose a DNA test is in order, I don't want to learn I've touched a bastard."
Even though Ran has kept you imprisoned, you had never seen him so angry.
But fearing your child's safety, you did as he told you to, now sitting in backseat of the car, Ran uncomfortable close to you as your body touched his, with the sleeping little boy securely on his lap as the chauffeur drove through the very familiar streets.
Ran's hand on your nape, you flinched at how the fingers digged into your skin.
"[Y/N], my sweet little darling, did you think I wouldn't be able to care about both you and our son? Were you that scared?~"
His soft laugh contradicted his movements, harshly grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him, then a kiss followed.
You'd stare up at his cold gaze, sadistic glint flashing in his eyes as he very gently patted your son's head.
"When we get home I'll show you just how much I fucking care, how much grief I was in when you left. And I promise, our family will be perfect once you go back to behaving... If not we can always try for another child~"
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-> 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢
Rindou knew he was stubborn- but not when it came to you! He loved you so much after all.
He didn't break your legs again after the first time because you cried so much.
Nor did he keep the shock collar on you at all time because it hurt you.
He even removed some of the punishments because you begged him to and promised you'd be good.
Now he regretted those decisions so much, if he did what he wanted maybe you wouldn't have escaped.
Rindou Haitani made sure to never give up anymore when it came to you.
"You've really gone and done it now huh babe? Am I a joke to you?... I already miss your tears and screams sweetheart, this won't do..."
Rindou was in such a poor state during those two years, crying, -destroying everything he touched-, not sleeping, -killing people-, not eating etc
Yet on his birthday Ran finally came to him with some good news, and a photograph of you with twins in your arms.
Ran happily talks about how his little brother looked ready to cause hell on earth until he explained that they did a secret DNA test in one of the hospitals they owned and the twins were Rindou's.
Without another word Rindou got up and went to the address Ran gave him.
So imagine your shock when you arrive at your apartment and find Rindou comfortably sitting on the couch and the babysitter dead and bleeding on the floor.
"You know if you didn't escape from me you wouldn't have to work that stupid job until this late at night, what if some creeps follow you home huh? Oh that? Yeah, I killed the bitch because she was asking too many questions, but don't worry, the twins are sleeping."
Rindou would laugh, get up from the couch and approach you with a smile before slapping you.
He would have originally done much more but now the twins were in the picture.
Rindou really wanted to hurt you but he needed to be a good father and husband now right? He had a family to take care of.
-He'd sigh in trouble like he wasn't the one on the floor with the bleeding cheek-
"Let's get you home darling, and once the twins wake up we'll explain everything to them right? If you told me you were pregnant I wouldn't have been that mean to you"
He happily soaked up your cries to just leave you and the twins alone when his bodyguards entered the house and carefully took the children.
Rindou kissing your tears away and holding you close.
"Oh how much I've missed you sweetheart~ It must have been so hard for you to live without my help and take care of the twins, but don't worry, now that I've found you I'll never let you go."
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-> 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢
Koko was sure you wouldn't leave him, he knew your character. After all that money he spend you would be too guilty to leave, but here he is now; you having escaped your golden cage.
Koko pondered why you would leave him, even though he imprisoned you Koko was never too harsh on you right? You were treated like a well protected -pet- lover
So when Kokonoi didn't see you anywhere he assumed like Mikey and thought you were kidnapped.
He waited for a call or a message of sorts for some ransom money that would just be considered change to him but none arrived.
Were you really gone?... He needed to know the trigger that made you throw your morals away.
"[Y/N]... Where did I go wrong? Was I too reckless? I should have chained her up... Should have broken her down."
Koko considered himself pathetic for crying those first few nights, then got to work.
Would be the fastest one to find you because he wouldn't give up no matter what and would be more composed than Rindou and Sanzu.
It was especially easy to find you once you gave birth and he had your records. And he found the trigger: A child.
You were pregnant? That would explain everything, you didn't want to raise the child in this dangerous environment; how silly.
Koko would start off small, the shops around you suddenly closing down and making it impossible to buy baby products, not letting you get any job to support yourself and your child, then finally have you thrown out of your apartment late at night.
Sure it was a cruel act, but what was the cruelest was you leaving him.
And then he would appear before you at your most desperate time yet again.
"My sweet little doll, look at you, so helpless and weak without me... Did you have fun running around and struggling huh? Was it fun without me there to give you comfort?"
His voice ever so sweet as he basically took the baby from you.
You were too tired to even think about anything, you just needed some rest.
And Koko knew that, some of his anger gone from making you suffer during the first two months after you gave birth.
Leading you into the car and pushing you in without much care before getting in himself.
"Once we get home I'll give you a bath and you'll have a good meal, okay dove? I'll make sure to talk to the doctors and see what you and the baby need."
You'd be fooled by how Koko pulled you into the hug, gently petting you.
Until he grabbed your hair and forcefully tugged to make you look at him.
A commanding expression on his face.
"Then I'll properly chain you up and monitor you, you'll spend the rest of your life making up for the pain you caused me... Luckily I won't request much now that we have a child, let's be the perfect family, okay sweetheart?"
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-> 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨
Completely heartbroken when he couldn't find you anywhere after getting home from work.
It would be more likely to escape Kakucho because of how lenient he is, especially when you act good.
Will try to search for you as much as he can but there is a big chance he'll stop once he isn't able to find you anywhere.
Man for sure cried everynight you weren't there waiting for him.
And also spending a good amount of time ruining everything he touches from anger- he doesn't want to direct that anger towards you but he also doesn't want to keep it in, just in case he finds you again and accidentally hurts you.
"Why did she have to leave!?... Why couldn't she just love me like I loved her...? I loved her so much... So much it hurts."
The longest you can stay away from, it will probably take four or five years to find you because he's not actively searching, just grieving in silence and moving around.
Kakucho knew better than to save some random mother and son duo that his men were forcefully pulled away from the area because Bonten will have a meeting with an enemy gang there, but when he saw the son jump in to protect his mom, and getting knocked out in the process, he had to step in.
And once he did Kakucho felt a lot of emotions after seeing your face. Immediately ordering everyone to leave as he pulled you in a tight hug.
When you squirmed around and kept looking at your son Kakucho did so too.
He let you go and carefully picked him up.
-Making a mental note to kill whatever asshole had hit him-
"Is... Is he mine...? Well, it doesn't matter... He's a lot like you so I don't care."
Only one who'd accept the child as long as they look like you. But luckily it was his -Kakucho was extra happy after the DNA test-
The soft apperance and voice would have you almost fooled.
Until Kakucho finally moves his attention back to you and grabbed you.
"Let's go."
Kakucho would basically order, tightly hold you and staring at you with crazed eyes that you've never seen on him as he started to pull you towards his car.
"We're going home. I gave you a chance to live your life how you wanted. Now that you're fully mine I'll never let you escape like that again. Do you like breaking me that much? I'll give you the same treatment then."
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