#they'd better be in a fucking hurry

[chainmail-butch]

Lesbianism is quickly filing your nails down on the brick wall outside the gay bar.

#lesbian #butch #transgender #oh shit are my nails short and dull? #they'd better be in a fucking hurry #oh and washing your hands immediately after #archive

[miirohs]

world burning [c.l.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: someone is literally shot, charles kisses reader a bit forcefully an: to the anon who said they'd sell me their soul my cashapp is @bestfanficwriterever (jk jk, i hope that anon sees this tho). Real reminder to you all, again, that non of this stuff is to be encouraged irl and this is all meant as a fictional scenario!

“Charlie?”

You could hear him softly cursing in French on the other line, whispering as the bed creaked in the background. It was obvious he had just woken up, and you felt terrible for waking him as well, knowing the day he probably had.

“Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, tu ferais mieux d'avoir une bonne raison de me réveiller (what's the matter, you'd better have a good reason for waking me up)-”

“Charles, I've been arrested, I need someone to come get me.” 

The muttering stopped, grogginess disappearing from his voice almost instantly. “Y/n? Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé bon sang chéri (y/n? what the hell happened darling)?”

“Charles, not now please,” You chastised softly, looking to the door as the guards quietly conversed among themselves outside the room, “I have no idea why this is happening and what they’re gonna do to me.” “How did you even manage to get arrested… Nevermind that, I just hope you haven’t answered anything they've asked of you.” He groaned, heavy thumping over the phone as you looked nervously at the door for any indication they’d been listening to your conversation.

“I’m not that dull,” You said quietly, looking down at your lap, “and it couldn't have been anything i did, all they did was seize the car from me in the lot and bring me here.”

He paused for a moment, silent over the line. You pressed the phone against your ear, straining for any sounds on the other side of the line.

“Stay put. I��m coming to get you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you fumbled, tripping over your words in a hurry to get them out.

“Char, what are you planning on doing?”

He laughed humorlessly over the phone, the sound of keys jingling and door slamming making you jump back from the phone as if it’d grown a head.

“Exactly what I said I'm going to do, come and pick you up.”

You swallowed the thick ball that’d formed in your throat.

“You know what- never mind, send someone else in your place, maybe Carlos?” You bargained, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Pas de souci, mon amour. Je ne fais que commencer (no worries, my love. I'm just getting started). They should’ve learned not to fuck with the wrong person. I’ll be there in another 20 minutes, you won’t need to call anyone else.”

You shivered as the line went dead, looking at the now opened door, all the cops watching you with a suspicious look.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

All you could do was shake your head.

Not even a grand total of 15 minutes later, a shouting match erupted, followed by loud bangs.

There was a single person you could think of who was capable of this level of chaos, and you could have swore you’d heard him threatening the cops right now.

“Where is she?”

“Sir-”

“Don’t sir me, where the hell is she? Don’t tell me I have to blow another head off just for you to tell me.”

Everything seemed to fall silent for a couple moments, only a few voices daring to make a sound.

“Char?” You called out, a couple beats of silence weighing you down.

The sound of footsteps only got louder, stopping in front of the room you were in.

Keys jangled, the door slamming open as Charles walked in, a couple of police tailing him timidly to the outside of the door.

There were dark stains on his otherwise clean shirt, an indication of what happened visible in the peeved look on his face. Your eyes slowly trailed to his hand, a gun held tightly in his grip, smoking oh so slightly.

Noticing how your attention had drifted to the weapon, he put it down on the other side of the table as he approached you, shrugging off his jacket as he approached you.

“Tu vas bien maintenant (you're all right now),” He said quietly, running his fingers through your hair as he pulled you to him, “Come on, we’re going home.” 

You clutched his arm as he stood you up, eyes glued to the floor as you walked next to him.

You could hear their disappointed exhales, tinged with a bit of surprise as Charles kept a firm grip on your back, guiding you through the long hall to the main office.

As you continued to walk, he gently stopped you, turning around in the middle of the room as someone called for him.

“Fucks sake,” He sighed, turning around.

“Sir, i believe there has been a mistake-”

“What sort of mistake do you think you’ve made?” He snarled, his hand running down to your hand, lacing his fingers into yours.

“You see, the car we identified was yours and we thought that perhaps she’d stole it-”

“And you didn’t think to call me so I could deal with them myself?” He chuckled humorlessly, pulling you to his side. You held your breath, completely aware of what was about to happen.

“Charles, no-”

He shook his head at you, basically telling you to not interfere. You obliged, eyebrows creasing as you watch the poor man who had tried to explain himself get shoved to his knees.

“First off, you interrupt my very precious time, and then you have the audacity to say that you’ve made a mistake?” He stands back, waving at someone behind him to step forward to his side with a gun. “Do you know who she is?”

The man stumbled over his words, trying to plead for his life, but you already knew it was too late.

“Since you don’t seem to know, let me tell you. She’s the last face you’ll be seeing but since she’s here, I've decided to spare the rest of you for the time being. If I ever hear of anything happening to her again, anyone in this room will not be spared like they were today.” He remarked bemusedly, turning to you with the widest grin you’d ever seen from him.

“Chéri, close your eyes, and cover your ears as well.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. The second you did, there was a bang, followed by a thumping sound.

Something warm was on your face, but you didn’t dare open your eyes, shaky hands coming off your ears to touch your face.

“Don’t.” He was closer than you thought, causing you to jump as he rubbed what you assumed was a handkerchief against your face . “Don’t say anything, don’t look, just follow me.” 

You cracked open an eye, briefly wandering to the pool of blood a couple of feet away from you.

“What did I just tell you?” He remarked, barking at the rest in rapid french as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the doors of the station.

There was an awkward silence as you lumbered into the passenger side seat, pressing yourself against the seat as he pulled out and onto the road.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” He muttered, hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh.

“I thought you’d be upset with me.” You looked down, noticing the dried blood on his hands, not that it made much of a difference to you anymore. Less than two years ago, you would have been horrified at the idea of blood within six feet of you, but you had come to accept it as a part of him you could never erase.

“No-” He punched the brakes, eyes slightly apologetic as you jumped from the sudden shock of stopping.

“No, no, Y/n, look at me,” His hand left your thigh, fingers curling around your chin and pulling your face to his, “You are not responsible for any of that, i gave you the car, remember? You are not to blame yourself because I would gladly do anything for you.”

“Char-” You whined, muffled slightly by the pressure of his fingers against your cheeks.

“I would give you the world to see you happy, so shut up and take it.” He pressed his lips harshly against yours, almost needy in the way he nipped at your bottom. Warmth seemed to stir inside you as he let you go, your own mind racing at a million miles per hour as he returned to the wheel as if nothing had happened.

However, under his breath, he muttered something that even escaped you as your thoughts drifted off elsewhere. “Le monde brûlera, si tu le veux ma chérie, je te le promets (the world will burn, if you want it to my darling, I promise).”

#mafia au #mafia!f1 #f1 mafia au #f1 mafia #mafia fanfic #mob au #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #dark!charles leclerc #mob!au #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fandom #ferrari f1 #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #c16 #c16 x reader

[jelliedink]

Your Obsessed Butler Headcanons

Warnings: smutty smut, non-consensual drug use, potential blackmail, manipulation, name calling. Author's note: I'm back, loves! Writer's block hit hard and left me with thousands of unfinished WIPs but nothing I could complete. Yes, this is a screen cap of One Piece Klahadore because this man has awaken things in me and I'm still not over it. I hope you enjoy! Screenshot not taken by me. Beautiful divider by @saradika

It may be cliche, yes, but I absolutely love the obsessed butler trope. Specially one that has managed to successfully seduce their darling. Even aware that you're just using them for sex, they are still thrilled that they get the opportunity to feel your body and serve you in every way.

It's the middle of the night and you woke up hot and heavy? For them, there was no better way to wake up than to the sight of you grinding yourself on them.

Are you afraid of loud storms at night? They would hold you close and make love to you until it was gone, assuring you that as long as you were by their side, there was nothing for you to be worried about.

Felt bored out of your mind? They would organise things to run smoothly without them for the the next hours so they could give you head until their mouth was sore.

Found a new kink you wanted to try? They would hurry up the rest of the staff so they could get to your room as early as possible, ready to spend the night doing whatever you ask from them.

Suddenly felt needy during an event hosted by your parents? If you promise not to be too loud, they would manage to keep people away from the storage room for 30 minutes and lock both of you there, fucking you stupid against a wall with one hand on your mouth just to be safe.

They never, ever said no to you.

But everything comes with a price.

They manipulated you until you accepted not to use any condoms.

They had remote access to your devices and social media, and used it to sabotage every one of your relationships until they were the only ones you could rely on.

They've convinced you that you had everything you needed at home so you hardly ever went outside, staying the whole time in their field of vision.

They tempered your food when you went too long without requesting their special attention, not letting you forget what only them could make you feel.

And should the idea that you could live without them ever cross your mind, they had records of the nastiest things you both did to remind you that maybe that maybe you should think twice. But they were sure they'd never need it: they changed their appearance to your liking, learned how to fight and shoot to protect you and ran the house impeccably. They were everything you needed, so why would you be such an ungrateful bitch?

#yandere headcanons #oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere butler #butler x reader #yandere smut #yandere imagines #yandere x you

[stevierogersbabygirl]

Teacher's Pet

Professor!Steve Rogers x problematic reader

Run-through: You were never a diligent student, but ever since professor Rogers noticed, his teaching methods changed your grades forever.

Warnings : mentions of divorce, daddy issues, drugs and alcohol

Themes : Slight angst, smut (cock warming, clothed + vaginal sex)

Your parents divorced when you were 12, giving your mom sole custody of you.

Your father was abusive, he'd emotionally abuse you and never be there for your emotional needs, and your mother tried her best to raise you alone.

But life was hard growing up without a father figure.

You were now 22, and things did not get any better.

You were friends with the wrong people, who were only interested in drugs, alcohol, and lots of sex.

You'd join in, skipping college just to do those activities, and your group was so notorious that the whole campus knew about it.

They were unable to do anything about it, as some of the guys from your gang had parents who had donated to the college for years.

It was almost the first day of the second semester in college, and you and your group planned to go as you guys always went on the first day.

You got bored during most of the lessons, until one class.

A professor resigned and was replaced by a guy named Dr. Steve Rogers.

Holy fuck, he was so hot. From his properly styled blonde hair to his beautiful blue eyes accompanied by long eyelashes, to his pretty lips, to his height, to his abs and biceps.

Suddenly you wanted to attend college again.

Once you were out of his class, you went to your gang and gossiped all about him.

They'd tease you that "Y/N will one hundred percent fuck him for grades", or "Go suck his dick after class". You laughed along with them.

Your crush on that man started to develop more and more, as you attended his classes, and only his classes.

Before and after he taught, you'd always be with your gang, somewhere else, doing something terrible.

But you just had to be in Steve's class for the eye candy.

Unfortunately, though, Steve was teaching one of the harder subjects, and your grades remained the same.

One day, Steve called you after class ended, into his office.

You excitedly went there, fighting back a smile while walking.

You went back into character before knocking on the door, and he went to open it, and you instantly noticed a slight frown on his face, while inviting you to sit down.

After you sat down in front of his desk, he went behind the desk to sit on his chair.

"Y/N, we have to talk about your grades." He said softly, with a concerned look on his face.

You were so mesmerized at first by his beautiful self, that you didn't say anything leaving an awkward silence between the both of you.

"Y/N?" He asked.

You knew this would end up like other meetings about grades. You knew you'd just fail again and didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of a man like him.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I will work on them soon, I have to go now, bye!" You said rather sheepishly, getting up and slowly walking towards the door.

"I didn't tell you to leave." He said in an authoritative voice, causing you to embarrassingly hurry back into your chair.

"Y/N. This is a serious matter, and I've heard of how other professors seem to fail to help your grades." He said in his deep, slightly intimidating voice.

The thought of Steve talking about you to other teachers instantly made your heart flutter, but you had to focus on his serious words.

"So Y/N, I've come up with a strategy. Meet me at my house this evening." He said, handing you a piece of paper with his address on it.

You looked at it in surprise.

After the meeting, you skipped the next class to be with your friends, and they'd have their chitchats but it felt like background noise.

All you could think about was the paper.

Throughout those hours, you wondered what Steve wanted to do about your studies, at his house.

Why would he even invite you to his house?

That's when you had sexually intrusive thoughts, imagining Steve doing the most sinful, sexual things to you, and it made your underwear dampen on those occasions.

In the evening, you walked through his neighborhood to find his house and you finally did, knocking on the door.

Steve opened and invited you into the living room.

You sat on the opposite side of him in the dining room.

After some small talk and as he served you some cookies, he said something rather interesting.

"I heard about your gang, all the sex and stuff, so can you tell me some things regarding it?" He said while mixing his coffee with a small teaspoon.

Your heart jumped hearing those words come out of his mouth, and you had to remove the brain fog to find an answer to it.

"Oh yeah, sure. Well, I've been hooking up with guys since I was 19, they'd pay me for it, and I'd get pregnant on multiple occasions but unfortunately aborted." You said.

You don't know why you said all of that, especially to your professor.

Steve looked at you with a face that had an emotion hard to detect and took a sip of his coffee, he placed it on the table.

"What was the biggest one you took?" He said casually, looking at you, a smirk forming on his face.

Shock filled your face, and your mouth gaped slightly open.

Did your professor ask that?

But you knew that, if you guys were about to have sex, you'd like it too.

This man knew he was extremely hot.

"Well, 5 inches." You said sheepishly, looking down at your plate full of cookie crumbs.

Steve chuckled, and you presumed it was because of the shyness.

He stopped chuckling and said quieter, "Well I'm 6.5, you okay with that?" He asked.

You looked at him, with your mouth gaped and your brain still processing what he just said.

You eventually nodded, and he patted his lap for you to sit on it.

You eventually sat on his lap, inches away from his face.

"B-but, what does this have to do with the studies?" You'd ask shyly, playing with your hair, making Steve smile.

"Well, since you like sex so much, how about you have your pretty tits out while you sit on my cock, doing all your missing assignments on that laptop you have." He said, smirking and staring into your shy eyes.

No way. No way he just said that.

But this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, lots of girls would do anything to fuck their hot professor.

You nodded slowly, looking hypnotized by his beautiful eyes.

In no time, your shirt would be pulled up, revealing your tits, while your underwear was off, and your skirt was covering your pussy as you sat on his large, fat cock, unzipped from his trousers.

You were shaking, a fog clouded in your mind, while you wrote one of your essays, while Steve had both hands on your waist, watching your every move from behind, occasionally playing with your tits

If you were almost finished, Steve would start thrusting up into you and rubbing your clit, and you knew it was worth it.

Once you've submitted, Steve would bring you to his bed to fuck you fast and, hard, and would plant kisses all over your body, showing you that your work was worth it.

You spent less time with your gang, so you'd always give your friends excuses like your mom gave you extra chores, but you were truly at Steve's house, getting your pussy filled while increasing your grades.

For the rest of the college year, you'd sit on his cock half naked, with him fully clothed only with his cock out.

Sometimes you'd request to have casual sex with him, but he'd always reject it, saying that you needed to do an assignment too, which you unfortunately accepted.

But aside from grades, before you'd start doing your assignments, he'd sometimes ask you to give him a blowjob, usually if he's had a stressful day, and you'd agree, which was so unfair.

You never got sex if you weren't doing your work, and he'd always get sex if he'd simply ask.

But he was the hottest fucking guy after all, how could you say no?

#captain america #captain america smut #captain america x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #marvel smut #steve rogers #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #chris evans

[upsidedownmvnson]

nighttime quickie with eddie munson

warnings: no plot, oral, p in v sex, dirty talk

A/N: enjoy a short quickie

Eddie was on his knees in front of you, holding your skirt up with one hand, and gripping your thigh to keep it forced open for him. You were on the desk in your room, letting Eddie have his way with you, while your parents slept in the other room. They'd never woken up yet, and it was giving Eddie a little too much confidence.

A little part of him, wanted to be caught. The thrill of your parents walking in to see their little girl being mouth fucked by the town freak, and loving it. Begging for more of it. Sinking into him, pushing his head further into you. He'd love for everyone in town to know how good he takes care of you.

"Eddie," you moaned, trying to keep your voice down, "Eddie please it's so loud."

"Sounds so fucking good, baby," Eddie mumbled, pussy-drunk before he even gets inside you, as usual. His grip on your thigh tightened, he liked the little marks on you left after sex. Especially right after, when your hair is wild and your skin is sticky... and your just covered in these little sex marks. The dress you were wearing got in his way again and he huffed, "I need this off, take this off."

He gripped the skirt and tugged it, whining when it was still stuck under you.

"Eddie," you whispered. You knew he loved the sound of his name on your tongue. You got off the desk, slipping your dress off with shaky fingers. You wanted to hop back on and let him eat you out forever, but he already had control, spinning you around and leaning you over the desk. He gripped behind one of your knees and put it up on the table, giving him better access to you.

He dove right back in, making you gasp. He was working his fingers on your clit and tongue in you like it was his only purpose. And right now it was, because fucking you satisfied was a full time job, and he was happy to do it.

A glance at the clock on the wall made him groan. It was nearly two, he needed to get back to the trailer, and he needed to let you sleep.

"Baby, I'm gunna have to hurry things up a little," he said, standing up behind you. He pushed you down onto the desk, listening to your beautiful groans. You heard his belt being undone, trying to push yourself back on him. "It's so pretty like this baby, a photo isn't enough I wish you could see it, so beautiful."

"Eddie," you mumbled, bring a hand to your mouth. You brought a finger to your mouth and nibbled on your nail to help keep quiet. He kept one hand on your back, keeping you shoved into the desk, as Eddie fumbled with his zipper with one hand.

You heard the sliding, and felt a gentle press against your core, making you moan again.

"You want that? You want to be split open like this?"

"Yes, please Eddie," you whispered, looking over your shoulder at him. He groaned, the sight of you begging and keeping yourself quiet for him was too much on it's own.

"So polite, pretty girl." He slipped the tip into you, so good and so not enough. You kept trying to push back on him, but he just grinned, pulling away slow enough to keep himself inside but still torture you. "But be a little patient."

You huffed. Even when he was in a rush he had to draw it out to tease you even more.

"Fuck baby, you look so good. Fuckin' begging for my cock," he grinned as he spoke, slipping himself deeper into you, but holding you still so you couldn't bounce back on him. "Such a good girl, takin' every fuckin' inch..."

When he was fully inside, you both moaned, and he had to take a second to come to his senses. You always welcomed him so warm, and wet, and tight, fuck, everytime with you was as good as the first. Or better, even, after having learned your body and what it responds to. He grabbed your throat, and used it to pull you up towards him, and he met you halfway, so he could give you an awkward, sloppy kiss from behind.

Eddie pulled away, and started pushing into you as fast as he could without making the whole desk rattle.

He sunk his forehead into your shoulder, holding your throat in one hand and your hip in the other.

"Fuck babe," he groaned, keeping your face close to his. "Gunna make me fuckin' cum already."

"Uh, I'm- fuck," you try to talk but it was too hard to think while Eddie was like this. You squeezed around his cock, and he groaned with a huge smile. He loved when you were like this, a moaning mess under him. No one would ever make you feel as good as he did, and you both knew that.

"Yeah baby," he peppered some soft kisses on your shoulder, followed by a quick bite. "You gunna come for me? Come all over me babe, I got you, baby."

He let go of your hip and reached around you to get a finger over your clit, rubbing fast circles around it, making you moan loudly. Eddie shushed you, but just kept grinning while he fucked you. Imagine if your parents came in now... they'd Eddie holding your mouth shut with his hand while he slams into you from behind.

"Fuck baby," he moaned, "gotta be quiet. Don't wanna get caught, fuck, don't want anyone to know you're a secret slut, fuck."

You moaned against his hand, and he could feel your walls get impossibly tight. He grunted as you came, squeezing him so tightly it was practically pushing him out. He fucked you through it, hitting every sensitive spot over and over until he was sure you couldn't fall apart anymore.

"Fuck," he muttered, letting go of your clit to grip your hips again, fucking you with such an unforgiving pace, your eyes lolled back into your head. "You got me baby, you got me," he repeated, slamming into you and holding it there, painting your sore pussy with his cum. He hung his head, resting it on your shoulder again as he took a couple deep breaths, still holding your hip and your mouth.

Eddie let you go, flexing his fingers from the stiffness of gripping while you rubbed your hips where they were against the table.

"So quiet today baby," he whispered, he pulled his pants up and tucked himself away.

"I thought if I spoke I would scream," you said, smiling. You wiped yourself off with a towel, although most of the mess would be dripping out of you the rest of the night.

"Give me a kiss before I go," he said, pulling you close.

"Stay with me," you pouted, letting yourself be wrapped in his arms.

"Ugh, I want to so fucking bad," he said, kissing you on the top of the head, and then moving to kiss your nose too. "But I don't want to get caught baby. Can't lose the best thing in my life."

He kissed you again. But this was different, he was showing you how much he loved you with every tender movement.

"I have to go," he said. "I love you though, I love you so much."

"Go, go," you laughed, "I love you."

As Eddie head towards the window, you shuffled some pants on to go to the bathroom.

"I hope it's still running out of you at school tomorrow," he said, smirking.

"Well, my parents leave at six, come back before school and we'll guarantee it."

"Dirty," he said, pointing. "Dirty little thing that loves me, holy fuck."

"Get out of here," you said, laughing. "See you in the morning."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things fiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #st4 #stranger things season 4

[grandlinedreams]

Hiya! Thank you for all of your fics! 🫡 They really make my day everyday! If you are still accepting requests, may I please request anything angsty with a fluffy end for Azriel 🥹 Whatever you can think of! ☺️

Hiya!! I sure can hehe, I hope this is to your liking!!

|| warnings: angst, blood, the war camp Illyrians are jerks, fluff

Illyria is fucking cold.

Wind whips at your face, unforgiving chill biting at any exposed skin ㅡ not to mention the steady crush of snow beneath your feet. The sun is already sinking past the snow-covered line of pines that makes up the steppes ㅡ making you grimace and attempt to hurry your pace.

This was not how you'd expected to spend your evening ㅡ but then again, you suppose freezing to death is more ideal than whatever fate your supposed "group" had intended for you. Made of Illyrian males and wholly unfamiliar, they'd made it clear that you weren't welcome on this expedition when you'd started ㅡ even more so when they'd had the audacity to grab at you with enough force to bruise your skin.

You aren't Illyrian, and so perhaps the thought had been that you would be weak, made more vulnerable in unfamiliar territory ㅡ but you'd proven them wrong when you'd sank your dagger into the gut of one of them, wrenched yourself free, and promptly taken off with the speed of a frightened stag.

You know they could track you if they really tried, but with the snow that pelts from above and the darkening sky, you doubt they'll risk it. But you're facing a bigger problem now ㅡ you have no idea how to get back.

"Fuck," you whisper to yourself, teeth clenched to keep from chattering. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

If it weren't so goddamned cold, you would've been paying better attention. If you hadn't been chased off by a handful of alphahole males with superiority complexes, you wouldn't even be out here in the first place.

Which is why, you suppose, all you can feel is surprise as the ground underneath you gives way with the cracking snap of loose rock and earth. It doesn't give you time to react as you lose your balance, plummeting gracelessly down into the abyss below what'd apparently been a drop off.

Your body bounces once, twice ㅡ then your head rebounds off sharp stone, impact making your ears ring before silent black consumes you.

Something is wrong.

Azriel can feel it, an undercurrent of tension that thrums in his veins like a second heartbeat. This entire place makes him uneasy, the churn of memories from his own time here as a child that reminds him why he avoids this place at all costs when he can.

But Rhysand had been adamant that he and Cassian make sure things were going well here, and you'd gone along to offer what support you could. Azriel appreciated the intent, but the way you'd been eyed by more than a few of the other males had set him on edge even further.

Cassian eyes him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy at the fact that he's just shy of pacing. Movement at the edge of his peripheral catches his attention, and he turns ㅡ it's the group you'd gone to scout the steppes with.

And, he notes with a fresh spike of fear to his stomach, you're not with them.

Azriel is moving before he truly registers it, eyes flicking from one face to another, fury rising like the maelstrom howling in the moutains beyond. "Where is she."

One of them has the audacity to scoff, and Azriel's blood boils as his shadows writhe, clamoring for bloodshed. Right now, he'd have no qualms about ripping every single one of them to pieces. His siphons blaze. "Tell me where [Name] is. Now."

One of them sneers. His arm is slung over his stomach, stemming the spill of blood from a wound to his stomach. Azriel hopes that you're the one who gave it to him. "She took off."

Azriel snarls, wings snapping out before he throws a rough, "Deal with them before I do" to Cassian before he's in the air and off in the direction they'd come from.

The only reason you know you aren't dead is because everything hurts. Pain radiates from everywhere, from the tips of your toes to your scalp ㅡ but you're alive.

You're not certain if you're relieved or not. A quick tentative flex of your hands is first, then your neck, your back ㅡ and you hiss a sharp curse when white-hot agony starbursts from your left ankle.

It takes longer than you care to acknowledge to sit up enough to assess it ㅡ grimacing at the swollen flesh, bruised an interesting shade of purple.

Fuck.

There's no way you're going to get out of here, not like this. Frustration mixed with fear prompts the rise of tears to your eyes, and you grit your teeth against a sob.

You're going to die out here. And there's nothing you can do about it. You doubt those alphaholes told anyone what happened and while you know Cassian and Azriel will look for you, they won't know where to look.

You stifle another choked sob, then still at the sound of movement. Of course some wild animal would take advantage, you're an easy meal ㅡ

"[Name]," a voice calls from behind you, so Cauldron-blessedly familiar that it has you struggling to turn, raw hands scrabbling for purchase to haul you upright.

You don't know how your ankle bears your weight or how you don't immediately collapse back to the ground ㅡ all you care about is lurching into the Illyrian male's arms with a ragged call of his name. "Azriel."

How he found you is beyond you, but his arms are around you, warding off some of the chill as he takes on most of your weight. He doesn't ask what happened, and you don't ask what you look like. The way his grip tightens on you answers how he feels about both.

He's still gentle as he lifts you up, flinching when you still hiss in pain. And then you're airborne, cradled carefully against him. Pain and exhaustion make your eyelids heavy as you nestle against Azriel's neck, the subtle shift of his head against yours following you into sleep.

When you wake next, it's to the crackle of a fire and the warmth of dry clothes. Sitting up is still a challenge, and dried blood flakes beneath your touch when you bring your fingers to the tender throbbing of your temple.

"You're awake." You look up to see Azriel standing in the doorway. You've been around him enough to read him, the unspoken relief in his eyes as he approaches. "You don't have to worry about that group of warriors," he tells you, "Cassian and I handled it."

The gleam to his eyes turns wicked and cruel, and you have no doubts how he and Cassian handled it. It doesn't make you feel better. You look away, studying the blanket over your legs.

"They had a point," you mumble, hating the weak rasp to your tone. "I shouldn'tㅡ"

"Give people like that any kind of weight to the words they say," Azriel cuts in sharply. "Because they're wrong. Just because you aren't Illyrian doesn't mean you're not strong."

When you still won't look at him, Azriel approaches you and reaches, calloused fingers coaxing your head up to meet his gaze.

"You still deserve better, Az," you mumble. Azriel's eyes narrow, flashing before he's leaning down to press his lips to yours. The kiss is rough, demanding ㅡ and then he pulls away enough to look at you, eyes blazing.

"I don't want better," Azriel answers, voice low. "Because there isn't. I just want you."

Your lips tremble before you're kissing him again, softer and sweeter. "You have me, Az," you mumble.

"And you have me," he answers, quiet enough that only you can hear him. "Now and forever."

#ㅡmine. #acotar x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader #az x reader

[rogueddie]

Steve groans at the sound of his alarm, batting his hand around the side table until he hits it hard enough to shut it up. He gets up, rubbing his eyes as he moves to the bathroom on autopilot.

He's not just tired, he's exhausted. But he always is at Christmas. He struggles to get enough sleep at the best of times but, since Dustin would kill him if he's late, Christmas is the one time he has to wake up early. It's miserable, every year. The motels only add to his suffering.

As he's washing his face, he freezes. He quickly rinses his face, prodding at the skin. There's no lines, no wrinkles, no crows feet. He doesn't even have his beard. That's when he notices his hair. His hand shoots back, grabbing at the longer strands at the back of his neck.

He hasn't had his mullet for at least 30 years. Not since 1989.

Hurrying back to his room, he nearly recoils. He'd forgotten about the plaid walls and curtains. But he quickly brushes that aside, quickly looking around for anything out of the ordinary. He wishes he could just pull out his mobile, sure that Robin would-

Robin!

He darts down the stairs, to the main phone. But is immediately reminded of how bad the old phones were. He can't remember what Robins old number was and he's sure the one he does remember will be wrong. And it's not written down anywhere either.

But it starts ringing, just as he starts walking away.

"Hello?" He says, struggling to keep his voice even.

"When will you get here?" Dustin asks. "You said you'd be up by now!"

"Dustin, oh thank god, I'm so glad to hear your voice," Steve sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Something really fucking weird is going on with me, dude."

"Weird? Like... Upside Down weird?"

"What? El shut- or has... what year is it?"

"1985. Are you ok? What's going on?"

Steve laughs, high and hysterical. "Uh, well... when I went to sleep last night, it was still 2021, so... no. I'm not ok."

"Are you being serious?"

"Unfortunately. Wait, 1985... that means-"

"No! Don't tell me!" Dustin yells so loud that Steve has to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. "You can't just tell people what's going to happen! You could change the future!"

"Good!"

"No, not good! You might be trying to make things better, but you could make them worse. Especially if you actually tell people what's going to happen. You need to be subtle."

"Subtle, right..." Steve looks towards the door, pondering. "Right... uh... I'll see you later."

"What? Steve-!"

He hangs up before Dustin can continue to scold him, hurrying up the stairs and throwing on the first clean polo and jeans he finds. His old trainers are at the bottom of the stairs, just as remembers them being- they'd lasted decades before they fell apart, even though they'd always been loose and worn enough that Steve could slide them on, even though he keeps them tied.

It takes him a while to drive to the trailer park. He takes a wrong turn, completely forgetting the way. It's been so long since he's been in Hawkins and, even then, he wasn't familiar with this route.

"Um, hi, sir," Steve says, trying to smile when faced with Eddies uncle. He's not sure if he was always so stand-off or if Eddies death did that to him. "Is- is Eddie home?"

He grunts, eyeing Steve. "Gimme a moment."

He shuts the door, but he doesn't leave Steve waiting for long.

Eddie is the one to open the door. He gently pushes Steve back from the door, gesturing for him to follow him. Steve jogs to keep up with his fast pace, too busy staring to pay attention to how tense he is.

"Alright, what do you want?" Eddie sounds annoyed. Impatient. He's glaring at Steve and crossing his arms.

He looks amazing.

"Right, sorry," Steve shakes his head. "Sorry. Uh, this... ok, there's no way I can say this without sounding insane, so I'm just gonna say it, alright?"

"... Alright?"

"Chrissy Cunningham is going to try and buy from you in March. I don't know what she asks for, but if it means you bring her back here, don't. Just- sell her some weed, whatever you can carry on you. Don't bring her back here."

"She your girlfriend, or something?"

"No. God no. I just... something bad will happen. I'm sorry, I know that's... I sound stupid. But please, please," Steve can't help but step forward, grabbing Eddies hand. "Please don't bring her back here."

"Ok, alright, I won't sell to her," Eddies eyes are a little wide. "Jesus. I'll take your word for it."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Eddie stares at him for a moment, raises a brow. "Is that it? You, uh, gonna let me go now, big boy?"

"Oh! Right, sorry, yeah. Um. Merry Christmas?"

"Yeah," Eddie laughs, starting to head back to the trailer. "Merry Christmas."

Dustin yells at him for an hour straight once he drives to his house. He's red in the face by the time he finishes and looks one wrong word away from hitting him. But Steves already done what he wanted to do, he won't change it now and he won't tell Dustin what he said so he can either.

But he does tell Dustin the time to start paying attention. Without Eddie to get them on the case, they won't figure out how to save Max in time. He doesn't tell Dustin anything either, just the date of Chrissys death. He wishes he could think of a way to save her, but his mind runs a blank. And Dustin won't let him ask him. And Dustin refuses to leave him alone long enough to ask anyone else.

By the time he goes to bed, he's happy to think that he's done enough. Though, like Dustin, he wonders what will happen next. If he'll stay in 1985 or wake up in the changed future. Wonders what that would mean for his past self.

He wakes up warm, comfortable, and well rested. Someone has their arms around his waist, pressed fully up behind him, light kisses trailing up his neck, along his jaw.

Steve hums, yawning. "Who's 'at?"

"Morning to you too," the person behind him snickers.

Curious, Steve turns. He freezes, eyes wide. "Eddie?"

"Who else would it be?" Eddie smirks, but that slowly drops, realization dawning on him. "You were just in the past, weren't you? Wait- shit, no, hold on, do you remember anything past that?"

"I don't- ow!" Steve squeezes his eyes shut, head throbbing. "Fuck. Ow, fucking... shit."

"What? What is it? Baby, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," Steve whines, clutching at his head. "You were dead but you- got a job at the record store?"

"Oh, ok, this is good," Eddie curls his arms around him, pulling him close. "This is good. Dustin said this might happen. It's the conflicting timelines or whatever. Your timeline catching up with the new one."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I just know that, like, you might have two sets of memories- or your original ones get forgotten, or something. But this... this is good. God, Stevie, the idea that you'd forget this current timeline..."

He tries to think of what might have changed, new memories or old ones he can't recall. It just makes his head hurt. "How long will it be until I, like... remember everything? I barely remember the 86 with you alive."

"Who knows. Weeks, maybe? Might always be confusing. But... um. I died? Was that... why you were so adamant that I didn't sell to Chrissy?"

"Yeah, it- it got you caught up in the, uh... stuff."

"The Upside Down? Yeah, I did get caught up in that. Hard not to when your town suddenly rips apart. So, what, I originally got caught up earlier?"

"Right at the start. You, uh... you died to save us."

"Now I know you're lying. I'm not one for the big hero moves, that's your job."

"Shut up," Steve snaps. He lifts his head so he can glare. "Shut up. You were a hero. You were- you are. You- you-"

"Hey," Eddie wraps him up in his arms, one hand coming up to brush through his hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, Stevie, I'm really sorry. I'm ok though, yeah? You made sure of that. It's ok. I got you. I've got you. We're safe."

Steve sniffles, grimacing at the snot he leaves on Eddies top. The sight brings forth vague, distant memories- his but also... not.

"You do this a lot, huh?" Steve asks.

Eddie smiles, cupping his face, thumb brushing some tears off his cheek. "Yeah. It's not always easy, but I'm always here."

"Oh, wait... have I missed Christmas?"

"Just the day. Dustin remembered that you said 2021 so... we all wanted to wait. We're doing Christmas today."

"Really? Why?"

"Mostly because they wanted to be here, just in case. You made us promise, too."

"Just in case?"

"In case you forgot, baby. We don't know what you changed. Sandy is going to be very disappointed- she was excited to meet you again."

"Sandy?" Steve frowns, but the memory almost immediately hits him.

A baby, premature, and so small that she was barely bigger than his hands. Dustin's face, wet with tears but so proud, introducing the baby to Uncle Steve.

"Oh, Sandy," Steve whispers the name with reverence.

Eddie kisses him, almost desperately. He pulls back fast though. "Sorry, that was- fuck, Stevie. You're really remembering."

He sobs, startling Steve. "Woah, hey, Eds."

"Sorry. Fuck, we prepared so much but it... God, Steve, I don't think I'd be able to handle it if you never remembered again."

Steve presses a small, hesitant kiss to his cheek. "I don't think you'd have too much to worry about."

"Yeah, that's great," Eddie laughs. "My husband would've found me attractive even with amnesia."

"We're married?"

Eddie groans, flopping onto his back. "Of course that's what gets you excited. Time travel? Too boring for Steve Munson! Where's the adventure? But marriage?!" Eddie gasps dramatically. "Oh my, mister, that sounds mighty exciting!"

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the love of your life, stop being mean to me."

"Oh, don't go pouting at me like that, big boy. Even you should know that I have no self-restraint."

"Promise?"

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #christma22k

[sebastiansluts]

Dbf!Bucky makes you squirt with a controlled vibrator in the kitchen while your family and friends are outside doing a bbq, suddenly your relative walks in to the kitchen when you're still trying to catch breath and cleaning up your mess while the vibrator is still buzzing inside you

Bucky Barnes x Reader; dbf!bucky, remote controlled vibrator, semi public sex, squirting

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON’T LIKE, DON’T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

"C'mon, you can't tell me the thrill doesn't get ya goin', knowin' they're all out there while we're in here. Your parents and friends are right outside babydoll. If one of them looked through the window at just the right angle, they'd see you," Bucky taunted, standing just behind you as you tried to gather drinks together, all despite the vibrator rumbling away inside you.

You nearly dropped a glass as Bucky turned up the power, just barely setting it down before your hands grabbed the counter, white knuckling it as you held back an orgasm. He hadn't given you permission to come yet.

You knew it was fucked up, messing around with your dad's best friend, especially doing it while he and everyone else you knew were just outside. But you couldn't help but do it anyways, loving the wrongness and the thrill and the fact that Bucky was just a fucking huge, hot man. With long dark hair and icy blue eyes, bit of scruff that ached something awful between your thighs, you knew from experience.

And his body, so toned and buff, he could easily pick you up and make you do what he wanted, no matter the fact that he was well over forty now. You squirmed, the toy inside you buzzing away, pressing against your spot and making you gasp.

You glanced behind you, sticking your ass out and wiggling it enticingly. Bucky groaned and stepped forwards, grabbing your hip in one hand, the other fisting in your hair and slowly forcing you down against the counter, your ass pressing against his hard dick, making you moan as you realized he wasn't wearing underwear.

"Bucky, fuck, you're so fucking hot, please fuck me," you begged, sounding wanton, but you couldn't find it in you to care. He just laughed and pressed up into you once, making you keen before he pulled away entirely.

You panted where you lay, face against the counter, tits hanging heavy as your ass continued to stick out. Bucky upped the vibrator again and you whimpered, thighs clenching tight, your legs crossing trying to avoid coming.

"Aw, such a good girl for me, so fuckin' desperate, you'd really let me fuck ya in the kitchen during the family barbeque. Knew you were a slut, but damn babydoll, you're my fuckin' slut now. And my slut gets to come," Bucky said, turning the vibrator up two more settings.

You bit down on your lip hard to stop the squeal that escaped you, as your whole body went through a cycle of tensing and releasing, a few times, before you realized you had squirted all over the kitchen floor.

"Fuck, that's it doll, lookit you, makin' such a mess for me," Bucky groaned, turning the vibrator down a little, but not off. You glared at him as you pushed yourself up, panting and trying to catch your breath. You grabbed a towel and threw it on the floor, getting to your knees shakily, pointing your ass at him.

"Don't make me turn it back up," Bucky threatened, just as your older cousin walked in.

"Turn up what? Oh the air? Yeah, we can turn it up a bit, you do look a little flushed," your cousin said as they looked at you, walking around you to the doorway to the rest of the house. "Everyone's waiting for their drinks, better hurry up."

They left and you hurriedly cleaned the floor, Bucky finishing getting the drinks together before helping you carry them outside, finally turning off the vibrator and letting you breathe.

#rose writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #smut #no y/n

[echoingalaxies]

Content: self-punishment/injury, conditioned whumpee, trauma

Whumpee got up before dawn to prepare breakfast. For so long now, it had been their routine, something they'd gotten used to doing no matter their condition, no matter the amount of pain or exhaustion weighing them down. Coffee with two sugars, and three fried eggs, would have to be ready to be served precisely at 6, and Whumpee would carry them to Whumper's room where he would still be sleeping, wake him up, and stand there, head bowed, wait until he finished his meal and then take the dirty dishes to the sink.

The few times Whumpee had missed the 6 am mark, even by a couple of minutes, hadn't ended well. Whumpee ran their fingers over the scars they'd received for those mistakes, wide and raised under their shirt, as they waited for the food to cook. They kept glancing at the clock, anxiously, shivering at the thought of being late, but they also couldn't hurry too much because the punishment for undercooked eggs would be just as cruel.

At 5:58, Whumpee had everything set up, and taking the plate and the large mug of coffee in their hands, they started to head toward the stairs, moving slowly for their aching body. Whumpee had become really good at counting in their head, so they knew they were right on time, as they balanced the mug on the plate for a second to knock on Whumper's door.

They pushed the door open, flicked on the lights - so much brighter than Whumpee remembered... He hadn't changed the lightbulb, so had Whumper had to do it himself? How come hadn't he told Whumpee to do it? - and went next to his bed.

"Your breakfast, sir," they said, trying to sound chipper but gentle, humble and happy to be there. "Good morning, sir," they added quickly after, almost having forgotten the proper way of greeting. What has wrong with them today?

Whumper, usually waking up to their voice and demanding to have the food immediately, just pulled the duvet to his chin, face deep buried into pillows. He grunted something inaudible, and Whumpee was left standing there, unsure what to do.

"S-sir? It's morning, sir, time to rise. Are you feeling ill?"

"Shut up," Whumper growled, and his voice was odd, but Whumpee pressed their lips together tightly, afraid to make a sound. "What the fuck are you doing, it's so damn early..."

The plate and the mug were shaking in Whumpee's hands as they began to breathe heavily, panicking. They'd been on time, but they'd made a mistake. They'd made some kind of mistake. Whumper was upset, and oh, when he'd wake up, hell was awaiting for them...

"Please," Whumpee whispered. "I- I'm so sorry. So sorry, sir..."

After a few mess-ups, Whumper had introduced Whumpee to an alternative option when it came to punishments of slipping off schedule or not completing their tasks just as Whumper had told them to. Quicker, easier, and for Whumper, even more fun than getting to carve marks on Whumpee's skin.

He'd love to watch Whumpee be humiliated.

"I don't want to waste my time on you when I have better things to do," Whumper had once said. "Make it simpler for the both of us. You know when you mess up. Why not get the consequenses out of the way? Use whatever's available, as long as you clean up the blood."

Whumper was still under the covers, perhaps falling back to sleep. Whumpee was still confused by the situation, but it seemed like he should've somehow known to not bother him this morning, oh no, they'd done gravely wrong, and there was only two ways out...

And they'd made their choice which route to take.

Whumpee set the plate on the nightstand, and closed their eyes, when with trembling hands, they took the mug of still steaming coffee above their head and spilled it all over themselves. Even as cried out in agony, they kept reminding themselves whatever Whumper would have done to them would've been worse, and with any luck, this would be enough.

Whumper was once again woken up by Whumpee's cries, and bolted up from the bed like he'd been electrocuted. Whumpee felt a sting in their heart. Of course they'd want to watch. Why would they miss the show? Maybe they'd be unsatisfied with their pain and make Whumpee throw themselves down the stairs for good measure.

Whumper cursed loudly and grabbed Whumpee's arm, pulling them out of the room and to the nearest bathroom. He shoved Whumpee under the shower and turned it on, turning the temperature cold. He squeezed Whumpee's arms, shaking them lightly.

"Oh god, Whumpee, why would you do that? What were you thinking?"

Whumpee coughed, the water getting into their mouth. They shivered, from cold and from fear.

Another mistake.

Nothing made sense.

Why was whumper helping him? What was all of this?

Whumpee tried to pry themselves away from Whumper's grip and out of the shower, but Whumper held them still.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm sorry -"

"Wait," he said, sounding concerned rather than angry now. "Oh shit, Whumpee, no, stop that. Look at me. I'm not him."

Whumpee did as they were told and raised their gaze to meet the eyes they expected to be gray and cruel, and was shocked to see hazel, and nothing but kindness.

"I'm not him," he repeated, and Whumpee blinked a few times, letting their eyes take in the rest of the person's face. "Everything is okay. You're home, remember? Safe."

The person had dark circles under their eyes. They had a friendly face, although right now, they wore a worried expression. Whumpee wiped water from their face to see better... their eyes must've been lying to them...

"I..." Whumpee begun, stammering. "S-sorry... I should've let you sleep... I didn't know... I'm sorry..."

"Whumpee, shh." The person reached to turn off the shower and then let go of them to grab a large, thick towel they spread on Whumpee's shoulders. "Don't, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realise it was you. You shouldn't even be walking! I thought it was Teammate just annoying me, I was barely awake, I didn't mean to be harsh towards you."

Whumpee pulled the towel around them, turning their head to look around. They knew this bathroom. They'd been patched up here many times before, years earlier. It was Caretaker's.

They looked at the person in front of them. They knew them. It was coming to them slowly, but they knew them better than anyone.

"Caretaker?"

They smiled. "Yeah. It's me. It's okay. You've been home for a few days now, remember?"

"I... guess."

Caretaker helped Whumpee out of their wet clothes and let them shower privately, washing the coffee off their hair and ease the pain in the burns on their scalp, their face, their shoulders.

When whumpee was ready, they opened the door to let Caretaker in once again. Caretaker sat them down on a little stool and started to treat their injuries, talking in a calming matter throughout the process. Whumpee was still feeling lost, his brain struggling to understand what was real and what was not.

"I'm still so sorry, Whumpee," Caretaker said, spreading something soothing over his burns. "I never should've allowed things to go so far that you'd do this to yourself."

"I didn't want you to hurt me," Whumpee said quietly. Caretaker stilled for a second, then continued rubbing the lotion on Whumpee's skin. Whumpee bit their cheeks. Caretaker, and everybody else, didn't know much about what he'd been through with Whumper. They hadn't had many opportunities to talk that much yet.

"I would never do that." Caretaker leaned in and pressed an unexpected kiss on Whumpee's forehead. Whumpee blushed, though they were grateful it probably was hidden by their already reddened face. No one had done that for... Whumpee didn't even know how long. "No one will ever hurt you here. And you never have to hurt yourself, okay?"

Whumpee wished they could keep that promise. But who was to say what happened this morning wouldn't happen again?

"Yeah," they said. Caretaker's touch was gentle and comforting, and Whumpee remembered them as a trustworthy person.

Only it all wasn't up to Caretaker.

And it wasn't up to Whumpee. They didn't decide to forget they were not living in that nightmare anymore.

But if things were to be like this, would they ever truly get out?

#only quickly proofread #self punishment #implied torture #past torture #trauma #conditioned whumpee #aftermath #obedient whumpee #deconditioning #accidental bad caretaker? #whump #whump writing #caretaker x whumpee #protective caretaker #post rescue #caretaking #whump scenario #physical whump #writing #whump prompts #writing prompts #whumpee #whumper #caretaker #whumpblr #writeblr #whump fic

[rinrinx2]

"All mine"

Sanzu Haruchiyo x reader

Summary: You want to leave him when he least expects it but he already does.

Warnings: Nudity, abuse mentions, mature themes, mentions of smut, yandere themes

-------------------------------------------------------

You took deep shallow breaths keeping your eyes shut, as you lied on your back next to your lover as he lay fast asleep.

You could feel the beads of sweat that lay in the valley between your breast, a reminder of the strenuous love making you had with Sanzu.

This was your plan, to get Sanzu as tired as possible so you could complete your goal, and what better way to make a man tired then by having him drill his cock into you over and over again.

Of course Sanzu wouldn't say no to such request, especially when you had yourself splayed on the white silky sheets in nothing but your lace panties and only your arms to cover your breast that were already spilling, they were practically screaming for Sanzu to come and take them into his mouth.

When Sanzu had seen the display of you lying there mouth agape with lust filled eyes, he didn't waste a minute to start undressing himself.

"All this for me?" He asked rhetorically as he began to unbutton his shirt.

You watched him with an intense gaze of want, trying to make him speed his actions of undressing.

When he had finally got his shirt off and began unzipping his pants is when you started the real show, moving your arms from your breast allowing them to be out in the cool air which caused your nipples to pebble. Carefully pushing your panties to the side slipping the tips of your fingers into your arousal as the other hand went to your mouth allowing your tongue to slide over the digits.

"Please Sanzu Hurry" you moaned seductively, trying your best to have him as aroused as possible.

And your attempt had worked, when Sanzu had finally freed his straining member from his slacks it stood erect and hard pushing against his lower abdomen little droplets of precum spilling out already dripping down.

"Ready for me Princess"? Sanzu asked with a smirk as he slightly palmed his member as he approached your figure lying on the bed.

He took you in every position imaginable. From having you in missionary to the mating press. Never stopping not even to catch his breath, lost on the sea of pleasure that was coming from your slick arousal sucking him in deeper squeezing him with every thrust in.

"God, your pussy has a vice grip" he said as he had you on your hands and knees while he fucked you senseless from behind.

Sanzu final orgasm hit him when he had you on your side, slowly pulling out of you with a groan as he rolled over to his side of the bed, closing his eyes not saying a single word as he fell asleep.

And now here you were at exactly 01:05 am, you had opened your eyes quickly to steal a glance at the clock on that stood on the vanity.

Ready to stand up and leave him, to leave Sanzu.

You had to do this, you knew it was for the best. Sanzu's love was to much it suffocated you.

The Sanzu you had fallen in love with was gone and the shell of the man you once loved lie beside you tufts of pink hair splayed out on the pillow as his nose scrunched in his sleep.

This new Sanzu that now lied beside you slowly crept into your lives, he would appear when you'd come home late from work due to traffic, or when people's stares would linger on you to long.

Sanzu would become frantic whenever these things would happen constantly questioning you where you were, if you knew the people who starred at you, why did that guy open the door for you.

When you told others about his actions they'd only tell you

"His just caring about you (Y/N). It's a good thing"

But they didn't know the extent that Sanzu's possessiveness would go to.

"I'm sorry (Y/N) you can't go to work, that guy you work with has been getting to friendly with you" he said as speaking against the locked bedroom door.

Sanzu grip on you was brutal, never allowing you out of his sight, always by your side.

And that is why you had come up with the idea of leaving him, while he was sleeping, while his mind was in pure bliss due to the pleasure and his body to tired from pushing into yours.

You carefully looked at the clock again, 01:25 am, the clock read. You slowly began lifting your upper body trying your best not to disturb Sanzu's sleeping form.

As you began to shift your leg out of the blanket you felt a hand slither around your waist. You internally screamed not knowing what to do, trying your best to compose yourself you lifted his arm from your waist, only to feel it tighten and pull you flush against his chest.

"You know (Y/N) when you sleep you let out soft snores, and I haven't heard one leave that cute mouth of yours for nearly the whole night" Sanzu said half awake.

Your heart beat was skyrocketing until Sanzu the words left his mouth and your heart sank.

"Just go back to sleep baby. "

"There is no escaping"

"Ever."

.

.

.

Hope you guys like it❤️

Copyrighted by @rinrinx2 this work may not be copied

#sanzu scenarios #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu smut #sanzu angst #yandere sanzu #yandere smut #sanzu haruchiyo x you #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x y/n #sanzu x you #sanzu x y/n #sanzu x reader #sanzu akashi #sanzu bonten #sanzu tokyo revengers #tokrev sanzu #sanzu tokrev #sanzu haruchiyo smut #haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x you #haruchiyo sanzu x y/n #bonten sanzu #bonten #yandere #yanderen tokyo revengers #sanzu icons #akashi haruchiyo #akashi haruchiyo x reader #akashi haruchiyo x you

[anonymooseforever007]

Field Deer. Forest Horse

(Platonic Tommy Shelby x Female reader)

Summary: Arriving home from work Tommy is surprised to see Finn's best friend waiting on his front step with a bundle in her arms asking for his help. This can't be t.... why is it moving?

In which we also see how much of a little horse girl Thomas Shelby really is....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No Trigger warnings for this one aside from mentions of assumed pregnancy (but no actual). Also despite what Tommy first thinks, this story is entirely platonic in both the readers relationship with Finn and Tommy, and there are not actually human babies. I just have an idea that anytime Tommy is approached with a squirming bundle he thinks it's gonna be related to him somehow. This was really fun to write! Enjoy❤️

WC-2.7k

Main Masterlist

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Tommy Shelby had just arrived back home when he heard someone calling his name. Looking to his front steps, he saw his youngest brother's best friend hurrying towards him with a bundle in her arms. 

"Tommy! You're home, great! I need you to help me."

Now Tommy hadn't seen Y/N in a few months truthfully, he was usually busy with work and she lived in London. Most weekends Finn would end up going down to her place to cause whatever trouble they could, away from Polly's watchful eye. So really, her and Tommy's paths rarely crossed. But Tommy was still fond of the girl and the slight stress in her voice, didn't stop his growing concern....

Nor did the suspiciously wrapped object in her arms ease his fears and....Oh great, it was moving.... Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, Tommy tried to recalled what Y/N looked like the last time he'd seen her, hoping the bundle wasn't what he thought it was.... Please tell him Finn hadn't been that stupid...

"Tommy, it is really important! About a baby. Finn won't help either and I don't know what else to do!"

Fuck....

Pinching the bridge of his nose harder, Tommy closed his eyes again and tried to control his breathing. Yes, he was extremely pissed that Finn not only gone off and gotten his best friend pregnant, but also hidden the secret from his family for months. Now he'd obviously not been able to face the consequences and left the poor girl and babe all by her lonesome. Fucking really Finn? Tommy thought the family had raised him better than that. But despite Tommy's annoyance, he knew it wasn't time to take it out on the girl before him. If she really did just have a baby, she need more than just his help. He'd have to call a family meeting and once they all met the kid, they could take turns tanning Finn's ass. Sure, it wasn't too much different from what Tommy and John and Ada themselves had done. Come to think of it, not a single firstborn of the Shelby siblings had been "expected" so to speak. But at least they'd taken responsibility for their late night actions. And Tommy would be damned if his little brother didn't have to do the same. 

Talking one last deep breath, Tommy opened his eyes and looked down at the girl now standing a few feet in front of him. He could see her clothes were dirty from something and she had some small scratches on her left forearm. But still he was more concerned about the squirming mass in her arms. Running a hand though his hair, Tommy tried to think of the best way to console the girl. Putting a hand on her shoulder, Tommy began his speech about how she really was family now.

"It's gonna be alright Y/N. I know things may see tough right now, but I promise we'll be here to help you. Finn may not have the balls to help with this baby, bu..."

Stepping back, Y/N tilted her head, confused at Tommy's words. It was at that moment another noise came from the small blanket and for the first time Tommy saw light brown hair poking out from the blanket....But something seemed off about it.

"Tommy what are you talking about? Finn's not lacking the balls for anything, he's just still stuck at the office doing work. Polly said she'd skin him if he didn't get those papers done today. Besides he's not the one I need to talk to about the baby.... You are."

For a second, Tommy's heart stopped as an absolutely terrifying idea entered his mind. 

It wasn't Tommy baby was it? 

In the back of his mind, Tommy knew it wasn't true. But it also wouldn't be the first time, someone gave him the "surprise you're a dad" talk. She wasn't really tying to tell him it was his kid... was she? He didn't even remember that last time he saw Y/N, let alone ever..... She was his brother's best friend. Tommy wouldn't do that, no matter how drunk or high he'd gotten. He wasn't Freddie fucking Thorne for fucks sake...rest his soul. Shaking his head, Tommy's brow furrowed. No, that was completely impossible, there had to be some other explanation. 

"Y/N, I don't know what you're going on about but that's not my kid."

"....Of course it's not your kid?" Y/N's eyes widened at she realised what Tommy was thinking. Her own nose scrunched at the idea of it all and she chucked at Tommy's concerned face. "Oh Tommy do you think it's a real baby," she asked and moving forwards again, Y/N pulled back the blanket showing Tommy the truth. "Well it is a baby, but it's not a human baby. Look."

A baby deer.

That's what it was. A tiny little thing, that couldn't have been more than a week old. It probably weighted less than Tommy's briefcase. Stepping closer, he could also see it was injured. A few deeper scratches marred its back and Tommy could make out a few deeper wounds that reminded him of the imprint barbed wire left. Not to mention the poor thing was shaking harder than Tommy himself after a nightmare. Gently reaching out, Tommy lightly touched an uninjured part of the fawn's back, frowning when it flinched. Forgetting his previous concerns, Tommy quietly shushed the trembling animal and held his hand out for the fawn to smell. He was more than happy to ignore the problems of people, but Tommy always did have a soft spot for animals. 

"What happened to it?"

Pursing her lips, Y/N remembered the scene she'd dragged the small thing from only an hour before. 

"I found her on the side of the road on my way back to London. Pulled off to have a snack and found her crying all wrapped up in this old wire fence. And that wasn't even the worst of it Tom," Y/N revealed, "I looked around for her mum, and she was dead just a little ways down. I think someone hit her while crossing the road and the poor baby got stuck in the wire in her panic. I'm telling ya, Tommy, that doe has been there for a few days, I can't even imagine how hurt the baby must be!"

Y/N sighed, holding the baby deer a bit closer, as if she could cuddle away all its trama. Not even a week old, and it had already seen so much. Y/N had spent the next hour with her pocket knife trying to cut the poor thing out of its wire prison. She'd even gotten a few scrapes of her own when the fawn was panicking too much and wouldn't hold still, throwing itself as hard as it could to get away from its rescuer. Eventually though, the deer seems to accept its fate, though constantly shaking, as Y/N cut the final ties. Not that that was even the end of everything. So badly hurt, the fawn could barely even stand and Y/N knew if she left the baby by the road it would die. And she couldn't bare the thought of that. Tommy listened quietly as she explained her tale, still gently petting the fawn's head with two fingers.

"And so I brought her here. I was gonna go to Curly at first, seeing as I think he'd know the most. But then Arthur said Curly had gone down with John to pick drop the new horse off at May Carlton's place. So I decided to come here next. Based on what Finn said you'd probably be the next best help! You know more about them than I do!"

Tilting his head, Tommy raised an eyebrow at Y/N's words. Truthfully, Esme or Polly would have been the best to go to for a hurt animal. And he loved Curly too, but Tommy couldn't fathom why Y/N would go to him for help. Curly actually hated deers, they were one of he few animals he'd never enjoyed.... at least outside of Polly's stew. He may have been nicer to the baby deer, but Tommy knew even then, he'd probably be reluctant. And then Tommy himself was also a bit of a wild card when it came to the animal. Sure he'd hunted them before with his brothers, but Tommy never really looked much into the animals deeper that. Nevertheless, he accepted Y/N's plea, carefully taking the small creature from her arms, already making a mental list of supplies he'd need.

"Y/N? I'm still gonna help you with it, but I can't promise it'll do much yeah? I'm don't know much about deers and I'm definitely not any animal doctor. I guess we can try, but I'm not making any fucking promises."

Beaming at him, Y/N clapped her hands twice, pleased at his cooperation. 

"I knew you could do it! After all, horses aren't much more than field deer!"

Tommy froze in his steps, tensing up like he'd been shot. Did she really just.... Tommy turned around so fast, Y/N was scared the fawn would go flying from his arms.

"Fucking what?"

Nervously Y/N laughed. Even holding an adorable baby deer as gently as he did his son, Thomas Shelby's narrowed eyes were slightly intimidating.

"You know, horses....They're basically like deer, but bigger... and live in fields.... So they're Field Deer."

Mouth opened, Tommy looked down at the small deer in his arms with distaste, almost as if he was reconsidering his entire offer to help. 

For lack of a better word, Thomas Shelby was offended. Possibly more so than he'd ever been in his life.

"Deer aren't anything like horses."

"Yeah they are."

"How."

"...They both have hooves and fur and noses..." Y/N started off, hesitating. Truth be told, she knew nothing about either animal, that's why she wanted Tommy's help. "They both eat a lot of leaves and flowers and grass, and th..."

"Horses don't just eat leaves or flowers or grass. They mainly eat hay." Tommy interrupted.

"Hay is a type of grass, wise ass," Y/N shot back. "Besides you can't deny they look alike and act alike! Wave an apple slice in their face and they're practically the same species!"

Tommy scoffed.

"Horses are big and majestic and strong, and if trained right aren't afraid of anything. They're smart and loyal and good, and if you find the right one it'll help you for years," Tommy defend, thinking of all the horses he'd had before. "You won't ever find an animal as good as a horse mark my fucking words. While deer.... deer freeze in their steps the second they see danger. They're weak. You saw that today didn't ya?"

Gasping at his audacity, Y/N glared right back at him, reaching out to cover the poor fawn's ears, as if protecting her from Tommy's uncalled for blow. 

"Thomas Shelby, how dare you! Now maybe deer aren't as big or powerful as horses, but that's taking it too far! Speak the differences all you want, but not that one. The poor thing's still shaking and you have the nerve to be so cruel! Apologise right now!"

Tommy didn't even have to look down to feel the constant shaking in his arms....alright maybe that was a low blow. But he still wasn't going to apologise to the deer. It's not like it would even understand him.

"I'm not doing that."

"Yes you are." Arms crossed, Y/N waited patiently for Tommy to give in. She didn't even have to press him. For as cruel as Tommy could be to people, he did quite like animals. Only around him a few times, Y/N had already witnessed the gentle way he'd spoken to his horses or Cyril. The fact he'd even taken Cyril in when Alfie "died" was enough for her to know Tommy couldn't turn away an animal in need, even if he "hated" the man it came from. She was sure the small bit of conscious he so often locked away would be free soon. If only for a few minutes. And right she was, only a few seconds later, the small animal let out a pained whine and Tommy's eyes shot down to it. Carefully petting its head again, with blue eyes meeting chocolate brown, he hesitated a bit before grumbling.

"Alright, alright, shouldn't have said that to ya should I? Wasn't very nice of me was it? I said I'd help ya and I will. You're gonna be alright."

Nuzzling into his touch, finally, the deer stopped shaking. Tommy smirked softly at his achievement and Y/N smirked gently at Tommy, knowing she'd won the argument. She didn't understand why Tommy couldn't recognise the similarities and was so against the titles. 

"See, she even falls right into the palm of your hand, after a few nice words Tom. Just like all the horses do. Proving my point further. You may not think it, but you can't deny the truth forever! Field. Deer."

Sighing, Tommy just rolled his eyes, recognising how the woman got along so well with his family. When it came down to it, she could be just as stubborn as the rest of them. However, unlike the rest of his siblings, Tommy didn't have any blackmail he could use to make Y/N back down. 

"Alright maybe they are similar yeah? But you can't just call a horse a fucking Field Deer. That's just disrespectful to them. Horses are the stronger ones, and more useful." He turned, finally walking into his house, heading for his office where he knew bandages were kept. Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and headed after him.

"Alright Tommy, I'll keep that in mind."

Tommy nodded his head, still absentmindedly rubbing the fawn's head. Its breathing had gotten deeper now, not from injury, but from the fact that Tommy's gently pets had lulled it to sleep. 

"Good. Horses aren't Field Deer... If anything deer are .... Forest Horses."

It was Y/N's turn to freeze before she belted out cackling, finally realising where Tommy's initial defensiveness came from.

"FOREST HORSES! Fucking Hell! You weren't mad I said deer were like horses at all were ya! You just got pissy because I related the horse to the deer, instead of the deer to the horse!"

She laughed again, while Tommy just stood by silently. Even is she was right he'd never admit it. No, the Thomas Shelby would never confess he got into an argument over a childish nickname for horses. Especially if it was an argument he "lost" in the end. 

"Alright, alright. You've had your fun. Now go run to the kitchen and grab me a bowl of water yeah? And if you find Francis tell her to take one of Charlie's old baby bottles and fill it with some warm milk." Tommy cut in, nudging you towards the hall with his left foot as his hands were still full of the sleeping baby deer. "And after I'm done looking at this one, you're gonna let me look at the scratches on your arms too....Don't wrinkle your nose at me, it won't hurt that much."

Saluting the older man mockingly, Y/N nodded twice before tapping the sleeping deer on the nose. 

"Any other orders for the nurse, doctor? Should I bring some hay for the little filly or a blanket that's been heated over the mantle?"

Scoffing lightly, Tommy just shook his head. 

"No hay for the baby yet nurse, but get to it quick, yeah. Suppose to have a family meeting in a few minutes and I don't need them poking fun of me for going soft, now do I?"

"He says as he cuddles the injured baby deer," Y/N mumbled to herself, already halfway out of the room. "Not that I can blame him though, she is pretty cute."

Watching Y/N walk turn down the corner, Tommy took it upon himself to finally step into his office. The only one inside was Cyril, whose head immediately shot up at the new smell. Lumbering over to the couch Tommy had settled down on, the large mastiff gently sniffed the small creature. After a few moments, Cyril looked at Tommy and then back at the deer. Then he sat down and rested his head on the edge of the couch, staring curiously at the fast asleep fawn. Reaching over to pet the dog's head, Tommy let out a small laugh.

"You like her, don't you boy? That's alright I think I do too. Maybe we can keep her around for a bit eh? What do you say Cyril? Want a new friend?"

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#Tommy Shelby x reader #tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #Thomas Shelby x reader

[nerdpoe]

Like facing off against Cthulu, but it's really just your fears.

Part two, Part three, Part four, Ao3

Gore. Gore warning. Someone waking up in the middle of body horror being done to them. Gore gore gore. Do not interact if that is not something you want to read. I have other works under the tag phanfic that are not like this if you wanna read stuff I do.

Also elements of abuse.

I am not joking, someone wakes up in a really bad situation. Danny is shown in a...very familiar situation if you've ever been an unfortunate victim of abuse. If you cannot handle that, stay away.

~~~~~~~

Dick had been, admittedly, not paying attention. Granted he had been in a rather low-crime area, he could only imagine the kind of tongue-lashing Damian would give him.

Because typically Damian was the first to let them know when they'd fucked up.

Batman was second, but with fatherly scolding.

Alfred would scold quietly, over the course of a week, with disappointed glances and quiet sighs.

He had not been expecting the soft puncture in his shoulder, nor had he been expecting the burning pain afterwards.

The pain had only given him enough adrenaline to turn around and see two figures walking towards him, right before everything went dark.

Then he woke up.

And he really, really wished he had not.

He knew his mask was still on.

He knew his uniform was still on.

He also knew that he was not supposed to be able to feel the breeze on his fucking intestines.

He tried to move his arms, but something held them down. Same as his legs.

There was a deep, permeating ache. A pain that let him know he was in mortal danger.

It was centered on his chest.

His brain was still coming back online, and his head slowly lifted as much as he could bear and looked down.

Red.

Muscles.

Organs.

His skin, peeled back and pinned in place.

A fucking gardening shear approaching one of his ribs.

So much blood.

"Look honeybunches! It's 'waking up'!"

"Oh you! You know better than to distract me when I'm cutting, fudgecakes!"

"I'm sorry, puddin! But look at how it's got red ectoplasm!"

"It really is fascinating, these Gotham ghosts! Let's keep going!"

'No,' Dick thought hysterically, the pain beginning to cut through the tranq, 'Let's not continue, please no, don't don't don't-'

The thought was cut off by the starburst sensation of his rib being crushed, a horrific tugging sensation he could feel throughout his whole body, and then said rib was ripped out of him.

He couldn't help it.

Dick had been tortured before but fuck, this was a whole different level of fucked.

He screamed.

He screamed loud, and long, and petered off into panting sobs.

"Well now, that was rude."

"And he's been so considerate for a ghost so far! Bring out the muzzle sweetie!"

The large one came close to his head, some weird contraption in his hands, and Dick let out a keening whine. He could not let them put that thing on him, he could not-

"Mom, Dad!"

All movement stopped in the lab.

Dick felt his heart sink.

That was a kid. No kid should have to see someone being...being...

He couldn't even think it.

"Hurry, it's Phantom!"

And like that, the two mad scientists, because that was what they were, what they had to be, scrambled to grab a bunch of weapons and bolted outside of the lab.

Quiet footsteps scurried down the stairs and to his side.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have stopped them but they never listen and I...I'm going to have to stitch you up. This is going to hurt, but it's the only way you'll live."

Dick shakily turned his head to look at the kid, and oh.

Oh.

He was probably going to end up with a new brother by the end of this.

Black hair, blue eyes, bad living situation, stubbornly determined to do good.

Dick did the only thing he could do.

He shook his head.

"Nuh-no, g-get out. Ru-run."

He had to get the kid away from those lunatics, they could come back at any moment.

The kid's face adopted a stubborn look Dick was all to familiar with.

No, please, this was not the time, no Wayne-family pig-headedness, the kid had to run-

The shackled keeping his arms and legs in place released with a hiss, and he started reaching for his injury only to be stopped.

"Mr. Nightwing, sir, I have to stitch you up now or you won't survive. Please don't touch it, you'll...you'll make it worse."

Oh, Dick didn't like that sentence. It spoke of experience.

This kid was too sweet to have gone through something like what has happening to the professional vigilante, please no.

But the kid didn't waver at all.

With an experienced hand, he grabbed the medical supplies he would need and with a constant mantra of apologies, unpinned Dick's fucking skin from it's place and started piecing him back together.

Sans a rib, obviously.

"You're going to need antibiotics, immediately," the kid muttered under his breath, clearly trying to stave off a panic attack, "this is not a sterile environment. The stitches will have to come out to make sure your uniform isn't in the wound. Some of your remaining rib may need to be amputated, those were not surgical fucking gardening shears-!"

Dick had seen Jason go through enough panic attacks to know what to do.

It was difficult, but he lifted a heavy, shaking hand and rested it on the kids head.

He couldn't card his fingers through the kids hair, but that seemed to help.

The stitches did hurt, but it was a pain Dick was used to.

A pain that meant he was going to get better, eventually.

Necessary and good.

The kid cut off the thread from the last stitch and froze, cocking his head to one side.

Then, with what Dick could only assume as adrenaline fueled strength, he was bodily forced to stand.

He held in the scream, instead clutching at the kids shirt and ripping it.

He'd feel bad about that when he could think clearly.

"Mr. Nightwing, we have to get you to the fire escape, and you have to call the others to save you."

He was being pushed out of a window and found himself leaning on the railing, panting and staring down at the kid.

"I'll distract them as long as I can."

He tried to reach out, to grab the kid and take him with him, but the window shut. The blackout curtains closed.

The voices that he was sure would haunt his nightmares started shouting inside.

Dick struggled up three flights, barely making it to the roof before collapsing.

He couldn't save the kid.

Not as he was.

But his family could.

He activated his comm, which he was never turning off again, thanks, and was introduced to a cacophony of shouting.

No one knew where he'd been, why he'd gone, what had happened, did he have any idea how worried they were?

He felt a smile tugging at his lips and his body start to relax.

No.

He had to stay awake.

"We have new villains," he started, his shaky and faint voice making everyone stop talking, "They caught me off guard. Stupid. Should...should have been paying attention."

"Nightwing, keep talking. I have your location and will be arriving shortly." "I'm gonna need more than a medkit," Dick breathed, letting out a whine as he shifted position, "They fucking vivisected me. Pinned me down like a frog. Don't think I'll ever eat meat again."

"As thrilling as it is that you wish to join me in dietary practices, stay awake," Damian's clipped response did not hold any joy at the prospect.

Yeah, if this had happened to any of his other siblings Dick wouldn't be very happy either.

"They have a kid. Black hair, blue eyes, distracted them so he could do triage. The fuck kind of fifteen year old civilian knows triage?"

"Careful Dickie-bird, you're starting to sound like me."

Oh, that wasn't good. Even as mush as Dick's brain was, he could almost taste the Pit Rage in Jason's voice.

"He's still distracting them," Dick whispered, body relaxing against his will, "Can't...can't protect him. Dunno what they'll do."

There was a flash of red, and Tim was kneeling in front of him.

"Then we'll protect him," Tim said, carding a hand through Dick's hair as he took in the damage, "But first we need to get you to Alfred. Dr. Thompkins is already en route."

Dick let out a sigh, going limp against the roof.

He could hear his siblings shouting at him to stay awake, but he'd done that as well as he could.

His family would keep the kid safe.

He could rest.

~~~~~~~~

Bruce did not like seeing his children hurt.

It came with the territory of being a vigilante, but as a father he despised it.

But tortured?

No.

That was unacceptable.

And from what Dick said, there was a child in even more danger, if that was possible.

He stared through the glass as Dr. Thompkins operating on Dick's prone form.

He really had been vivisected.

The Y-shaped incision was clean cut in a way that said he hadn't been awake when it was made.

The bruises on his wrists and ankles told him that Dick's unconscious state had not stayed that way.

The careful stitches that Leslie had been forced to undo had been methodical, practiced.

But as she had said, a little off.

Like the kid knew how to do them, but from a different angle.

The sound of another dummy breaking brought him back.

He couldn't leave the kid-Daniel-with his parents.

No way in hell.

Tim had already run a search on them.

Jack and Madeline Fenton, parents to two children; Jasmine Fenton and Daniel Fenton.

Jasmine was in college, out of the abusive situation.

Her search history showed her constantly looking up affordable apartments for a college student with two rooms, but rent in Connecticut was a bit over a college students head.

It must have been killing her.

The Fenton's had moved out of Amity Park after an episode where Daniel had a psychotic break in school, and the police had started looking into his parents.

Bruce did not want to imagine what the boy had been through to warrant a psychotic break.

Nightwing's feed had showed them a scared kid who knew far too much about medical practices.

A kid who was terrified of the consequences of helping but deciding to help anyways.

There was no question about Bruce adopting him and his sister.

He would keep them away from crime-fighting.

They deserved a break from violence.

Even Damian had commented that the room next to his was ready for someone to move into.

His thoughts were cut off by Jason's feed on the Batcomputer.

"You were right," Gordon sighed, meeting Red Hood outside of the apartment in question, "We got the files from Amity Park Child Services. If you're ready to go in and make sure they don't hold their own kid hostage, we're ready to prosecute them."

"Fucking fantastic," Jason's voice growled through the helmet, the man turning to go up the fire escape.

"And should we have Mr. Bruce Wayne on speed dial, then?" Gordon drawled, making Hood pause.

"...Sure. Put the man on speed dial. Kid's adoption bait anyways."

Bruce could hear Gordon in the background getting the officers ready to arrest two new villains, ones that had already managed to capture and torture one of the city's beloved heroes.

Jason made quick work of the fire escape, soundlessly hauling himself to where Cass was waiting.

He paused, and they listened to make sure it would be safe to enter.

The feed picked up Jason moving his head to where Cass pointed out a small gap in the curtains.

The Drs Fenton had their son against a wall, a strange collar on his neck.

It looked like the kid was dissociating, no struggle present.

His shirt was torn, and on his chest...

On...his chest...

A Y-shaped scar.

One that bore the marks of poor healing, likely from previous infections.

Maddie Fenton was in her sons face, clearly threatening him.

And Cass punched through the window with her bare fist, an uncharacteristic show of rage.

From there Jason's feed was a chaotic mix of flashing lights, brief glances of Cass's bloodied hands, and finally, at the end; the sounds of the Drs Fenton screaming in pain.

And then the feed was full of Daniel.

Defiant blue eyes, panic clearly barely held at bay, shoving himself between an enraged Hood and equally angered Orphan.

"Please!" The boy shouted, keeping himself between the vigilantes and his parents even as the cops broke down the door, "Please! They...they're just sick. Please."

Bruce ground his teeth, even as Jason's footage showed his son lowing his gun and reaching out for the kid.

He was taking in Daniel.

He was giving him a better life.

And he would keep him far, far away from the violence being a vigilante would bring.

@skulld3mort-1fan @zelabee @waspsarebetterthanbeesanyways @ailithnight story prompt here

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #cassandra cain #batman #orphan #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #red robin #red hood #nightwing #dick grayson #jack fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #damian wayne #robin #gore #gore tw #abuse tw #phanfic #internalcthulufic

[gogh-with-the-flow]

Blood in the Wine-4

Chapter 4: Botanicals

A/N: I know it’s been a damn long time coming, but here it is! thank you all for your continued patience. i hope you like this chapter. it was a labor of love for sure. 

Reader x Vampire!141

Word count: 5.3k 

Warnings: descriptions of vomiting and sickness, knife mention, vampirism, Soap gets what’s coming to him, suggestiveness (barely)

Song for this chapter: In Bottles by Aurora. 

MASTERLIST, CH1, CH2, CH3, CH5, CH6, CH7

---

You woke again in the same bed, but with none of the comfortable peace of the last morning. You jolted awake, blood running cold, and sat bolt upright. You were alone in the room this time, and sunlight was streaming through the window. It must've been around midday. They had done it to you again. You were haunted by that underwater feeling, that loss of control; the violent peace that was forced upon you by honey-dripping lips.

You felt sick.

You ran to the bathroom as you felt the telltale sign of your mouth salivating as your stomach turned; stinging nettles stabbing their way up your esophagus. You barely made it to the toilet before your abdominal muscles clenched painfully and you emptied the contents of your stomach into the bowl.

It was bitter, the acid biting you the whole time while you heaved and heaved, until you had nothing left to give but thick, green bile. You closed your eyes and flushed. Maybe that cheese wasn't so edible after all.

But it wasn't the cheese- or maybe it was, it probably was- but that wasn't all. You felt sick from the way Soap had controlled you like a puppet, shoving his fist into your chest and manipulating your very emotions. You felt hollowed out, mummified. You wouldn't let it happen again.

You stood on shaky legs and hobbled over to the sink to rinse out the bad taste left in your mouth. You still felt sick. The only food you had eaten in four days was now making its way down the drain. How were you even still walking? Maybe it was some sort of residual healing from Soap's mouth on you. Yeah, that had to be it.

You couldn't let them do that to you again. They'd told you that today would be your rest day, but they would feed on you again tomorrow. You couldn't risk it. You couldn't have their mouths on you like that again. You had to get out of there- tonight.

You hurried back to your room and went straight to the window and wrenched back the curtains to find- bars. The windows were barred with intricate cast iron. Of course they were. You cursed loudly to yourself. You'd have to find another way. You'd just have to wait a little longer.

You went to try the door next, and found it unlocked. You stepped over the threshold slowly, glancing back and forth and listening, trying to determine if any of them were nearby. Nothing. Down the hall was a staircase which you descended before pausing once again. You heard two distant voices talking down the hall somewhere. Two voices you recognize: Gaz and Soap. You heard them laughing, and the sound of it made your blood boil.

You followed their voices, bare feet padding ever so softly as you crept up on them, picking up bits of their conversation.

"... bet you had fun…"

"...tasted so good…"

"...good as me?..."

"Even better."

"Don't be a fucking tease…"

You heard a clatter and a groan, and you rounded the corner into the kitchen, where Gaz had Soap pinned against the counter. Gaz's hand was hooked on a leather choker around Soap's neck, pulling their faces close as Gaz pushed his body flush against the other man. Soap was shorter than Gaz by a few inches, but Soap had Gaz beat in muscle; the taller man was more of a lean build in comparison to Soap's bulk.

Gaz was smiling wolfishly down at Soap when he noticed your figure hovering in the doorway and his smile faltered. He stepped back from Soap, releasing his hold on the collar.

"Your girlfriend's awake," he muttered. Soap turned to you with a wide grin, approaching you with arms wide open.

"There's our bonnie las-" His words were cut off by a sharp smack against his cheek. He froze just a foot away from you. Your palm stung deliciously. You felt vindicated. He slowly turned his head to look at you, absolutely stunned.

"How dare you? You fucking bastard!" You were livid, just looking at Soap's annoying face. Soap. What a ridiculous name for such a horrid man.

"Calm dow-"

"No!" you cried, snapping your hands up to your ears and scrunched your eyes shut to block the syrupy words from infecting your mind again. "Don't you dare! Not again, this is my turn to talk, understand?" You paused for a moment, your own heartbeat drumming away in your plugged ears. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes and met Soap's hard eyes.

"You don't get to do that to me anymore. You can keep me here, and you can feed off of me, but don't you dare try to control my fucking emotions! You don't get to just- just fucking hypnotize me into being happy with all of this! That's bullshit!"

You finished with a huff, breathing hard after your outburst. Your face was mere inches away from Soaps, both of you fuming. Gaz was off to the side, just watching- always just watching- but you paid him no mind.

"Anything else?" Soap asked, voice clipped and measured as he tried his damnedest to remain calm. You both stood in wretched, furious silence, each waiting for the next shoe to drop. And by God, you weren't just going to drop it, you'd throw it right in his face.

"Soap is a stupid name for a vampire."

"Alright ya wee cun-"

"Soap, settle down-" Gaz finally interjected and threw an arm between you two.

"No, no! Let him finish, what were you gonna say, huh?"

The kitchen quickly dissolved into chaos. Soap throwing words at you that you could barely comprehend through his accent; you egging him on, ecstatic to finally give him back a taste of his own medicine; and Gaz, poor Gaz, in between the two of you, trying and failing to get you both to calm down.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?!" A booming voice rang throughout the kitchen shocking you all into silence. Soap quickly composed himself, barely putting a lid over his simmering anger, as Price approached the three of you. Gaz stepped away quickly, but Soap was reluctant to move, and so Price pulled him back with a rough hand on the shoulder.

"Yeah, Soap, what is going on?" You teased. Price shot you a warning look, but you didn't care. They'd promised not to hurt you, right? So you were going to push as many buttons as you could get your vengeful little fingers on.

"She just walked in and hit me!" Soap complained.

"Did you deserve it?"

"No!-" "Yes!-" you both answered at the same time. Price sighed.

"Gaz, did he deserve it?"

"I have no clue what's going on, sir" Gaz answered, putting up his hands in a mock surrender.

"Soap, explain."

"No, I'll explain," you interjected before Soap even had the chance to open his mouth. Soap glared at you. Price turned toward you expectantly. "Last night, after our meeting, I let Soap feed on me. I held up my end of the bargain. And what does he do? He gives me food poisoning, yells at me, and then fucking hypnotizes me when I cried, and then- and then forces me to sleep!" You vented, getting your heartrate up once again. You almost thought you saw Price's nose flare as he listened to you. Maybe he was listening to more than your voice.

"Is this true, Soap?" Price asked without taking his eyes off of you. Soap shifted uncomfortably.

"She was hungry and tired. Was only trying to help, sir."

"So you compelled her to get her to stop crying?" Price clarified, taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose. Soap remained silent. "Yeah I'd say you deserve a lot more than a slap in the face for that."

"Sir, I-"

"Take a walk, Mactavish. I'll deal with you later." Soap hesitated, looking between you and Price in frustration. "Now, Soap," Price added sternly. And with that, Soap turned on his heels and exited the kitchen without another word. You stared daggers into his back as he walked away. Price turned to you once he was gone.

"I apologize for him. You'll have to give him time, he hasn't had a meaningful conversation with a human woman since the 80's."

"That explains the hair," you snarked.

"You're one to talk," responded Gaz from across the room. He had a point. Throughout your adolescence and into adulthood, your hair had been dyed nearly every color of the rainbow and cut to various lengths. Currently it was a navy blue, cut into a shoulder-length shag. Still, you weren't about to take any lip from him. You still hadn't forgiven him.

"Oh shut up, Kyle. You sneered his name like it was a bitter taste on your tongue.

"It's Gaz."

"You told me your friends call you 'Gaz.' We're not friends, Kyle. Friends don't kidnap each other to recruit them into some fucking- I don't know- undead death cult!" You had rounded on him now, the hatred that was aimed at Soap moments ago now laser focused on the man who had betrayed you.

"That's quite enough," Price demanded, stepping between the two of you. "Gaz, get out." Gaz took a deep breath, giving you one last regretful look before exiting the kitchen, same as Soap.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him. He cares about you," Price said with a sigh.

"He lied to me!"

"What would you have done if he'd told you the truth, hm?"

"I'd be home safe," you bit back. Price just looked at you, expression unreadable. A tense moment passed before Price spoke again.

"Let's get you something to eat," he suggested as he turned and walked further into the kitchen.

"If it's moldy cheese again, I'd rather starve," you mumbled. Price tossed you a look, and muttered a fucking hell, Soap under his breath.

As he moved about the kitchen, you saw what Soap and Gaz must have been doing before you'd interrupted. There were bags of groceries littered across the counters: fresh produce, dried pasta, frozen dinners, anything you could've been craving was laid out in various stages of organization.

Before you could stop yourself, you hurried over to one of the bags and grabbed an apple, immediately biting in. Fuck, you were hungry. You ate ravenously, barely chewing before diving in again. Juice was running down your chin but you couldn't care less. How the hell had you gone so long without eating? Especially after being bled last night.

You barely registered Price's eyes on you. He watched your mouth working, chewing, eating. Once you noticed, you stared at him- stared at him staring at you. Then he noticed you staring, and he cleared his throat with a nervous smile.

"Sorry, just- haven't done that in a while. Eat, I mean." There was something in his eyes as he averted his gaze. Longing, maybe? He went back to putting away the groceries.

You finished your apple- core and all- and moved to dig through another bag. You found a microwave pizza and ripped open the package without hesitation. You pressed a button on the microwave, not caring about the cooking instructions. It would probably be cold in the middle, but you couldn't find it within yourself to care.

As you waited for the microwave to finish, you took in your surroundings with greater detail. The kitchen was clean, lacking any grease stains or food splatters anywhere; but at the same time, it wasn't clean at all. A thin layer of dust covered nearly every surface. There were no signs of life in this room, save for the new addition of human groceries. It made sense. Why would vampires have any use for a kitchen? Price continued to work quietly beside you.

The microwave beeped, and you snatched the pizza out, immediately taking a bite and burning the roof of your mouth. You dropped it on the countertop.

"Easy, love. Food's not going anywhere," Price scolded. He handed you a glass of water, and you gulped it down greedily. Fuck, you were thirsty, too. You were so dehydrated. You felt Price's eyes on you again, and as you finished the water and set the glass down, you turned to him.

"Could I just have a minute, please?” you asked. You tried to find the right words. "You keep watching me eat, and it's a little… it's making me nervous."

"Right, yes, of course," Price said, appearing just as flustered as you were. "I'll just… I'll give you some time to yourself. Be back in a bit, give you a tour of the place. Eat up." And then he left you alone.

You filled the glass with water again, and then went back to your little pizza. You settled on one of the barstools at the kitchen island and let your mind wander as you ate.

You needed to get out of this place. You weren't safe here. Sure, Price had promised they wouldn't hurt you physically, but they were clearly still capable of compelling you to do whatever they desired. And who knew how long they'd keep their promise, anyway? You haven't even met the one named Ghost, the one who had come the closest to killing you. It was only a matter of time before one of them lost control and bled you dry. This was the last day you'd stay here.

You wracked your mind trying to think up a plan when your eyes landed on the knife block. You thought about taking one but hesitated. They'd surely notice it missing from the display. So you set about digging through the drawers looking for silverware. One, two, three drawers you opened and then you found it. You retrieved a butter knife and slipped it into your pant leg. You prayed to whatever was listening that they wouldn't notice it. This house was old, maybe the locks were too.

You slipped back onto the barstool just in time, because soon after Price marched into the kitchen once again as you finished the last few bites of your food.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you were sure he heard it, judging by the quirk of his eyebrow, but you hoped you played it off as surprise at his arrival, rather than from getting caught doing something you're sure Price would not approve of.

"Alright?" He checked.

"Yeah, just snuck up on me is all," you lied. "You're pretty quiet on your feet for such a big guy." And he was a big guy. Over six feet tall with a broad chest and even broader shoulders that looked like they could carry the weight of the world. You wondered how long he's lived, how much weight he really did carry, how many lives he's taken with his bite. You hoped you'd never get the chance to find out.

"Get enough to eat?" He asked.

"For now, at least," you confirmed with a nod.

"I'll have Gaz cook you up something for dinner later. Soap is getting the video player set up in your room so you can watch something when you're done eating."

"I don't want Soap in my room," you protested. Price gave you a pointed look, clearly getting fed up with your non-compliance. He ignored your protest.

"Come on, I'll show you around the place. He led you out the kitchen door on the other side of the room, which led to a hallway with doors along one side. "Servant's quarters. Though, we haven't had servant's living here for a century." You followed him to the front of the house. "Library in this corner. Gaz mentioned you liked to read. Use it freely."

He turned the corner into the grand foyer, an ornate crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a large winding staircase led up to the second floor. The floor was marble, but was in need of polishing. Cobwebs stretched across the arms of the glittering chandelier above you.

"The staircase will lead you back to the bedrooms, or you can use the back staircase again. Either will do. Back in the day, the back stairs were only used by the servants." How long ago was "back in the day?"

He continued across the foyer to the hall on the other side. He showed you the dining room, the ballroom, and finally the conservatory. The plants were all dead. Eventually you came to the servant's stairs again at the back of the house, and you followed him up.

"This is your room, obviously. The rest of the rooms are empty. My study is at the end of the hall around the corner, towards the front of the house. If you ever need me, chances are you'll find me there," he told you. "During daylight hours, you may walk in the garden. Use the door in the conservatory." Then he turned to you with a stern look, his steely eyes hardened and cold like a glinting knife. Like the knife you'd hidden on your person.

"You must go out only in daylight. And you must never leave the garden. Don't wander off, don't try to leave. We'll know." He placed a massive hand gently on your shoulder. "I tell you this for your own safety. As Lord of this manor, I have absolute authority. But if you leave, then I can not protect you.” He was leaning over you, eyes boring into you, daring you to defy him. His face was so close to you, his breath wafted over you, and you could smell the tobacco on it. Aged. Expensive. You could practically count the individual hairs of his beard, his eyelashes.

“Do you understand?” he asked softly. You only nodded. It was a lie, of course. You were planning on going into the garden and beyond tonight. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him, right? “Good.” He leaned away from you again, and you felt something tug in the pit of your stomach- something like yearning. You choked it back down. “The last thing we need is you getting any big ideas,” he added. It was all you could do to keep your breathing steady. Does he know? But then he turned and walked towards his study, you supposed.

“Oh,” he paused and turned back to you. “There’s also a sizable pond in the garden. You’re welcome to swim if you like.”

“I don’t have a swimsuit,” you responded. Price just smiled wryly, looking at you with hunger in his pale blue eyes.

“Shame.” was all he said, and then he turned the corner down the hall. Oh.

You weren’t quite sure what to do now that you were left alone. You stood in the hallway for a moment, wondering what to do next. You decided to check out the gardens. It would be wise to get a lay of the land before you made your escape. You descended the stairs once again and soon found yourself at the glass door of the conservatory. You turned the brass handle and stepped in. The floor was smooth, cut stone. There were hanging baskets and standing pedestals with pots of dead, dried plants. Withered, wilted leaves drooped sadly over the sides of terracotta left and right. The room smelled of mycelium. The air was stale. There was an overturned cast iron pedestal off to the side. There were traces of dirt and broken pottery around it, as if someone had lazily and hastily swept it up, but they hadn’t really cared about cleaning it thoroughly. You walked forward and reset the pedestal.

You opened the french doors onto the patio and breathed in fresh air for the first time in days; since you had gone to the club with Gaz. No. Kyle. you walked out into the garden. There was a large stone fountain in between two rows of flowerbeds. The fountain looked like it hadn’t run in decades. The flowerbeds were overgrown with weeds. Further out, the garden extended down a hill. There was a creek running perpendicular to the slope. The babbling water seemed to be the only sign of life in this whole place. A small arching bridge crossed over it. As you wandered the grounds, you took note of the fruit trees planted here and there. None of them were bearing fruit.

You crossed the bridge and took the wandering path along the hillside until you came across the pond Price had mentioned. Based on the state of the rest of the garden, you had expected it to be muddy and full of algae, smelling like rotten fish and dead frog spawn. Instead, you were happily proven wrong. The water was crystal clear and sparkling in the light of the slowly setting sun. on the far side of the pond, beyond the shore, was a tree line: the beginning of a thick forest.

You decided to take advantage of your bare feet and waded into the water, just up to your ankles you closed your eyes and the feeling of the cold water lapping at your calves and the soft silt settling in between your toes. You felt… peace. You finally felt at peace, and it wasn’t due to Soap or Kyle manipulating you this time. You felt stinging behind your eyes and your breath hitched. A hot tear traveled down the side of your nose and settled in the corner of your mouth. It tasted salty.

A gentle breeze rustled your hair and tickled the back of your neck. The sound of leaves rustling in the trees across the pond. A fish splashed against the surface, probably catching a waterbug for its dinner. A moment passed and then you felt the tiny waves wobble up and down your leg. You breathed deeply. Your tear dribbled off your chin and landed in the pond. You felt electrified.

Your body always felt like it woke up whenever you were surrounded by nature like this. You’d lived in cities your whole life, but when you were able to get out in the countryside, or when you took a walk in the woods of a state park, everything seemed so much sharper. The sky was bluer, the grass greener, the flowers more fragrant. You dug your toes deeper into the saturated soil beneath you. It grounded you. Even in a barren place such as this manor, the energy of nature brought out your soul from the hardened shell of your body. You felt alive in this moment. A bird took flight from an apple tree somewhere far off to your right. Some little creature deep in the forest burrowed beneath a log, searching for seeds or bugs.

“Hey,” a voice suddenly interrupted, “sun’s setting, you need to get inside. Dinner’s ready.”

“Christ, Kyle!” you shouted as you whipped around, nearly slipping in the mud. But Kyle’s arms were there to steady you. You shrugged him off and ignored the subdued pain in his maroon eyes. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You had been so in tune with the sound of life around you, how had you missed his footsteps behind you? Maybe because he isn’t alive.

“Sorry, I thought you’d heard me.” he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, refraining from eye contact. “Seriously, though, you need to get back inside before dark.”

You digested his words and looked up at the sky. Sure enough, the sun was already behind the tree line to the west. You’d completely lost track of time, lost in the magic of nature around you. You stepped out of the pond and felt that your toes had become pruney. How long had you been out here?

“Come on,” he demanded with just a touch more urgency in his voice as he turned back to the house and started up the path. You followed after him silently. Before long you were back in the stuffy old house, breathing in that dusty old air. Gaz glanced down at the expensive-looking watch on his wrist, then out again at the window, taking in the quickly darkening sky.

“Head up to your room now, I’ll bring your food up to you.” You didn’t move quickly enough for him, just looking at him with a challenging curiosity. “Hurry!” he commanded, ushering you towards the back stairs, tossing another anxious glance outside. You finally listened to him and bounded up the steps. You reached your bedroom door, but before you opened it, you paused to listen. The house was so quiet. Not even the floorboards settled to make a noise. It was like the building itself was holding its breath. You entered your room and locked the door behind you.

Walking to your bed, you fished out the knife from your pants and planted it beneath the mattress, just in case any of the boys- Soap specifically- tried to get handsy again. You didn’t think they would, not after your spat this afternoon; and Price had told you today you would be off from feeding; but you were slow to trust these men, and you couldn’t be too safe.

You stood back from the bed, smoothing the covers back over the mattress to remove any trace of tampering, when something caught your eye. A large, very large flatscreen television was mounted to the wall opposite your bed. You didn’t know the exact size of it, but it covered a greater portion of the wall. A small table had been placed beneath it with a DVD player connected to the TV with various wires. At least Soap can keep one promise.

There was a knock at your door, and slowly you moved to open it. Kyle stood there, tray in hand.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“I thought you didn’t need permission to enter,” you challenged.

“Well, I was just trying to be polite,” he countered. “But since you wanna be difficult…” he trailed off, and then he was pushing past you into the bedroom.

“Hey!”

“Here’s your dinner,” he announced, dropping the tray unceremoniously into your nightstand, not dissimilar to what Soap had done the night before. He must have sensed your guard going up again, because he turned to you with a sigh and a soft maroon look. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, taking a tentative step toward you. When you didn’t retreat, he continued forward until he was standing before you. You found yourself longing for him to touch you, to hold you like he had before this mess. He did not touch you.

“I’m sorry, I just…” he drew in a deep breath. “This is all new to me. And I know it’s not easy for you either, I just-” his hand twitched at his side. “I’m sorry. For everything.” And then he left, locking the deadbolt behind him. He left you confused and frustrated once again. He had a habit of doing that to you, it seemed.

You turned your attention to the tray on your nightstand. A ceramic bowl sat in the center with a glass of water to one side and silverware to the other. You stepped forward to get a look at the contents of the bowl: a simple bowl of pasta with pesto sauce. He remembered. You had only mentioned your fondness for pesto once over the phone. You felt the cage around your heart loosen just a tiny bit. But you wouldn't let this convince you to stay.

Without another thought, you sat at the edge of your bed and dug in. It was good, Christ was it good. Had Gaz made the sauce from scratch? Before you knew it, you were twisting the last bit of pasta around your fork. You were satiated, but not satisfied. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you were out of this dreadful manor and away from these men.

You wondered if Soap had fulfilled his other promise of retrieving the rest of your clothes. Replacing the bowl onto the tray, you stepped over to the wardrobe, and sure enough, it was packed full of ripped jeans and various tee shirts. You rummaged through the hangers until you found one of your heavier jackets and shrugged it on. You found a pair of your chunky black boots and then moved to the dresser to dig out a pair of socks, and then put both articles on. The sun had fully set by now.

You checked the door. Sure enough, it was locked from the outside, not that you’d let that stop you. You retrieved your knife from under the bed and wedged it between the door and the doorframe, wiggling it back and forth, up and down, nudging it gently to keep it quiet. Finally, you felt something shift with an audible click. You tried the knob once again, and it turned. You were right, the locks were old. Opening the door slightly, you listened for any movement, any creaking floorboard or squeaking door hinge. You were met with nothing but the sound of your own breath.

You moved silently down the stairs and thanked the deity if your choosing that the door to the conservatory was so close to them. The handle squeaked ever so slightly when you turned it, and you froze, listening intently. But no gnashing teeth emerged from the shadows of the hallways, so you continued. Once inside the conservatory, you hurried to the outside door, and breathed in the sweet fresh air once again. There was nothing holding you back anymore. You said a bitter goodbye to the old house.

You sprinted past the fountain, down the hill, nearly tripping over gravity, and down the path to the pond. The stars sparkled overhead. There were no lights of the city to pollute them away from your view. Orion’s belt lit your way, and you swore you'd never run this fast in your life. You ran and ran, around the shoreline of the pond, slipping once, twice on the soft ground, but you continued. You reached the tree line. All you had to do was get away, make it to the next town, or maybe a nearby farmhouse. You were closing in on the last base on your homerun. Then you hit something dark and unmoving.

People always talk about fight or flight responses, but few remember to mention the third option: freeze. That’s what you always seemed to do when faced with danger. You’d always hated the way you’d freeze. Your limbs would lock up, your lungs would contract. Whenever your mother screamed at you, or a customer at work would get angry with you, all you’d ever do was stand there. That’s how you found yourself sprawled out of the forest floor.

You were face-to-face with Death himself. An enormous black shadow towered over you, the face of the Grim Reaper floating well over six feet in the air. Bright, searing red eyes burned into you almost painfully. Whereas Gaz’s eyes were a deep burgundy, these eyes seemed to glow with hellfire. Its chest heaved, arms shaking as it looked down at you. You could practically feel the rage radiating off of it. You’d never felt so small, not even when your mother sat you down on the couch to berate you for whatever she’d deemed you’d done wrong.

The shadows seemed to be drawn to him, dark fog swirling at his feet, threatening to cover you, suffocate you. All you could do was sit there in the damp grass and look up at the hulking creature. Its death-face stared back at you, and it muttered only one word, its voice so deep you felt it reverberate in the dirt beneath you.

“Run.”

---

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[helpwhatsthis]

could I request smut of best friend Robin coming across photos of reader and Eddie sending one another nudes 😱 then later on reader and Robin sext?

eddies girl- r.b./e.m

thank you sm for requesting babes!

I changed it bc I am very picky abt my modern aus, but there are definitely still nudes and this is way better than sexting.

ignore the use of time period inaccurate toys!

disclaimer that there are no relations between eddie and robin! (if anyone tries to argue with me about robins sexuality, prepare to have a molotov cocktail thrown in your window ♡)

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robin had know she was fucked from the moment she saw you punch a russian in the face during summer of 85'.

she'd known she was even more fucked the moment she pulled open eddies nightstand in search of a song to save nancy.

before she could even move her eyes to the contents of the drawer, eddie had started screaming and running toward her. the tapes were forgotten from both of her hands when she gazed down to see god knows how many photos of one of her best friends in such... compromising positions.

if it hadn't been for steves screams to hurry up, and eddies pointed yet still terrified stare- she thinks she would have laughed from the shock of it all. because if she was a little more perverted (and a lot less rushed) it would have been like striking gold to her.

she can't deny to herself how many times she'd thought about the small glimpse she'd had. once everyone was safe, and eddie and max had been released from the hospital, it was all she had thought about for days. she'd barely left her room. every time her eyes closed, she saw it. saw you. tied up to your headboard, eddies hellfire shirt bunched up over your tits, and his hands pressing on your stomach. your head thrown back in ecstacy.

and with the sight came the questions. would you ever, in a million years or another lifetime let her touch you like that? what would you sound like? do want to fuck eddie as much as he talks about wanting to fuck you?

now her thighs are clenching together in the dusk surrounding the lake. she feels like a preteen boy, about to blow her load in her jeans while you moan along with joan jett to cherry bomb.

how could she not? your eyes are glassy and bloodshot, smoke falling from your nose. your black bathing suit leaves nothing of your body shape to the imagination. but most of all, even in the low light she can see the dark hickies on your skin.

"she's so fucking perfect, isn't she?" eddie muses softly, his knee bumping her own. guilt immediately fills her being when she looks back at him. even though his skin is covered in harsh scars, and there's a fear lurking in his eyes, he smiles as he watches you.

he loves you.

and you love him.

"to the ends of the earth, teddy" you had whispered in the back of steves car while begging him to hang on.

"i- I mean yeah, sure-" she stumbles on her words, sure shes been caught staring for too long.

"cool it, buckley." he smirks, turning his gaze to her. "I know you want to fuck my girlfriend, there's no reason to freak out."

"I don't!" she blurts, probably a little too loudly when you and steve turn back to look at her.

"shut up rob," he laughs, smacking her shoulder. "I know you have a shitty sleep schedule, and you have work tomorrow. so me and the succubus are gonna head home."

"dick" you grit, reaching up to slap his ass harshly as he stands.

why the fuck is he covering for her right now?

she's seen how possessive eddie can get, even before his escapades in an alternate dimension. since then, they'd only increased tenfold.

"we'll finish this conversation later." he murmurs, leaning down and feigning a kiss goodbye on the top of her head.

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"-and she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it. and he's holding her in his arms late-late at night-"

robin groans, throwing her head back against the headrest of steves passenger seat. "alright, sorry springfield. I can't handle you tonight."

she reaches to turn down the radio, causing steve to fake a moan of agony.

"shit, robin. is this y/n. again?" he asks, glancing at her pitifully.

"yes, again." she snaps. "it's like she knows exactly how to work her way into the most minute crevices of my brain" she explains exaggeratedly with her hands.

much to her annoyance, steve just chuckles.

"and eddie knows-" she looks at him, finally allowing her fear to show through. she knows that some point, eddie had threatened a guy within an inch of his life, all because he heard from someone who heard from someone else that the guy had a crush on you.

she did not feel like having eddie threaten to put a pipe bomb in her mailbox. or whatever deranged shit came out of his mouth.

"and how would he know?" steve asks skeptically.

because all I do is stare at her boobs,

or because I stole one of her shirts,

maybe even because sometimes I wake myself up moaning her name in my sleep.

"I don't know." she lies. straight through fucking teeth. "but he told me he knows."

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"alright, I'll be back in a few." you huff, grabbing eddies keys so that you could pick up steve and some take out. "love you, bubba" you hum, pressing a short kiss to eddies lips that makes robin painfully aware of being the third wheel.

"love you too." he smiles blissfully as he watches you walk out the door. it takes less than a second for him to turn back to her, cheshire grin upturning his lips. "let's get down to business-"

he wiggles his brows at her, causing her to roll her eyes. "and what would that be, edward?" she snaps, looking anywhere but his face. she knows that if she looks at him too long, she'll become a sobbing, apologizing mess.

"well, all three of us are off thursday." he shrugs. "and wayne is going out with some fishing buddies-" he smirks, biting his lip as he leans toward her.

"that means y/n and I are gonna have that new, big nda money house all to ourselves... unless of course you wanna come over?"

and she can see it vividly now, playing behind her eyelids. she's not stupid. she nows eddie fucked you on every surface of the new place after you'd bought it with your hush money.

it's a nice place, a really nice place actually. it's no harrington mansion, but you have eddie have a big plush bed on the second floor.

she wonders what it'd be like, to fuck you the king size bed you share with your boyfriend.

"and what would happen if I did come over?" she bites the bullet, looking skeptically at eddie. she almost wishes she hadn't when she sees the victorious look on eddies face.

"well y'know, it's not like I've put too much thought to it-" he laughs, eyes lost in thought as he absent-mindedly picks at the couch. "but you probably come in and find her tied to one of the kitchen chairs, wand buzzing against her puffy clit and begging someone to fill her up."

and she can almost hear it then, the loud buzzing and your whines for him.

no, for her.

"and of course I'd be mean, tell her no. and you'd get to play the hero, making her cum over and over on your pink cock."

there's a burning in her stomach, and she almost cries out when she clenches her thighs.

"god robin, she gets so wet for you. I make her tell me about how she wants your fingers inside and your tits in her face when im fucking her."

and she can't suppress it then, a soft moan pulling from her throat. she pulls her knees under her chin, peering up at him through teary eyes. he smiles, almost warmly as he claps a hand on her shoulder.

"so come over, or don't. s'up to you darlin'."

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her hands are shakey as she reaches to close the mirror on the visor, letting out a huff of anxiety.

"you're really gonna do this?" steve ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I guess so, and if it's horrible I'll call you when you're on break and make you come pick me up." she shrugs, looking back out the window.

"It's not gonna be horrible, rob." steve states, even though he knows very well that his is definitely out of her comfort zone.

she's so lost in her own head that she barely notices when he stops the car in the driveway.

"oh god-" she murmurs softly, gazing at the front door.

"It's just eddie and y/n, you'll be okay." he promises, reaching out a squeezing her hand.

the walk to the door feels endless on her trembling legs. she almost can bring herself to knock when she finally reaches it. but she does.

"It's open!" she hears eddie call from inside.

before she even has the door all the way open, she hears you cry out.

"eddie, please." you beg, hands fisting your binds and hips trying to wiggle away from the vibrations. it's a fruitless effort, only adding stimulation to your swollen cunt.

your beautiful. it's a simple thought, and the first thing that occurs to her as she stares into the the living room.

she thinks that eddie must have the self control of a god, being able to write nerd shit in his notebook while you're tied up and jerking around like that right in front of him.

"god eddie, please make it stop." you pant, body slumping and pushing your clit into the toy harder.

he only smiles, reaching out and turning it up a setting. you practically scream, head falling back and making her knees feel weak.

"come torture her a bit, buckley." he smiles at her. "lose the clothes on the way." he hums, going back to his notebook.

and she's waited so long to see you like this that she obeys without a second thought, striping down to her underwear and sitting beside him on the couch.

from here, she can see all of you. you're chest is heaving so hard it makes your tits bounce. there's visible tremors running through your belly. and your cunt, fuck. it's leaking everywhere and your puffy clit is twitching against the head of the wand.

"r-robin-" you choke, voice broken. "please make it stop?" you you beg, tear filled eyes pleading at her.

"oh y/n." she hums, reaching out to wipe the tear tracks from your cheeks. you push into her touch, and jerk a second later when eddie flicks the handle of the wand.

"make her cum." he says, relaxing back into the couch with his arms behind his head.

"how?" she asks, not able to tear her gaze from your clenching hole.

he sits up wordlessly, reaching for the clasp of her bra. he stops, eyes asking for permission. she nods, and seconds later the material is falling from her chest.

the sound you make is strangled, wanting nothing more than to feel the hard buds of her nipples against your tongue.

"do whatever feels right?" eddie shrugs.

and so she does, standing from the couch and pulling down her panties. your whining, body keening toward hers as you watch her undress.

she can help herself, hands caressing your face and she guides it so that your chin rests on her sternum.

it almost feel natural as she moves her hands to the sides of her breasts, pushing them and effectively smashing you between them.

and she giggles, fucking giggles, as you sob into her skin.

"can I kiss her?" she asks shyly, looking over her shoulder at eddie.

"you can do whatever the fuck you want to her, robin" he grins.

the next thing you know, her mouth is on yours, her tongue running along yours. you don't even notice her moving, so consumed by her mouth. she drops on your lap, folds warm and wet against your legs as her hand wraps around your neck.

"f-fuck" you cry into her mouth when she squeezes slightly.

and then she's in a daze, hips rocking against your mound and causing you to thrust into the vibe.

you take her tit into your mouth, nearly biting at her nipple and making her moan.

"oh fuck, that's it y/n" she gasps, hands tugging your hairs.

"go on and cum for her, baby." eddie encourages, reaching out and squeezing you knee.

it's euphoria as you let go. cunt clenching and feeling your pulse everywhere. your deaf to your owns screams of pleasure, deaf to both of their praising words. it's just wave after wave of bliss.

when you come to, the wand is clicked off. your head is resting on robins shoulder and her hands are rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"come on, princess. buckley isn't done with you yet." he hums, beginning to untie you.

"your getting payback for that teasing." you threaten, making robin laugh.

"oh yeah, and how is that?" he smirks.

"when is steves next day off?" you smile devilishly up at robin.

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#alex answers #eddie munson x reader #robin buckley x reader #eddie x reader x robin #eddie munson smut #robin buckley smut #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #joseph quinn #maya hawke #post st4 #eddie munson fix it fic #stranger things smut #stranger things fix it #joseph quinn x reader #maya hawke x reader #joseph quinn smut #maya hawke smut

[buffyromanoff]

I dont know anything but I know I miss you

Highschool AU. Natasha Romanoff x reader

Inspired by the Taylor Swift song ''Betty'', requested by @robinandnat (hope u like it!)

Word count: 1063

Summary: School is over and so is y/n and Nat's relationship...or is it?

Warnings: Teen angst, FLUFF, happy ending

Did I make the right choice? Was it truly the best for both of us? Do I still love her? Countless questions raced through your mind, tormenting you as you tried to make sense of your actions. Tears streamed down your face as you hurried home, desperate to avoid anyone seeing you in such a pathetic state. Unfortunately, hiding seemed impossible.

Whispers filled the hallways, making it clear that you weren't very good at hiding your pain. Thank god today was the last day of school cause there was no way you could survive having everyone’s eyes on you. 

Nat was everything you could have ever asked for. She had this incredible way of caring for you, making you laugh, and being so incredibly smart. And let's not forget how she'd always lend a helping hand with your homework. She was the kind of girlfriend who had your back no matter what. But deep down, you couldn't help but feel like a piece of crap. How could you break her heart like this? You kept telling yourself it was for her own good, but the question tormented you: Was it really?

Lately you've been going through a strange phase, and despite Nat's unwavering support, you pushed her away. It's tough to be in a relationship when you don't even know yourself well enough, so, you convinced yourself she'd be better off without you.

As the weeks went by, you couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling of missing her. You'd ask your mutual friends how she was doing, desperately seeking any news. At first, she was devastated, just like you, but somehow she managed to hold it together better than you did. Your closest friends couldn't fathom why you broke it up. "You and Nat were made for eachother y/n! You totally deserve her!" they'd say trying to lift up your confidence and self esteem. Little did they know, there was a secret you never shared, not even with Nat herself. It all started when you accidentally overheard her friends gossiping about you during lunch. They all agreed that you weren't up to Nat's level, and unfortunately, those words stabbed you in the heart.

Suddenly your phone rang. It was a text message from your mutual friend Wanda:

-I was at Nat’s today helping her set everything up for tonight and y/n……….she wouldn't shut up about you -

-Tonight? What are talking about? - You texted her, but Wanda was known for her late replies.

Your day went on as usual.

Summer used to be your favorite part of the year, but they were no fun without a lover.

Trying to distract yourself, you started the daunting task of tidying up your chaotic bedroom.  This was your first real breakup and you were not handling it well.

As you were about to finish cleaning everything up, you found a  neatly wrapped package.

What was in it? You had no clue. You opened it up and now everything made sense.

NATASHA’S BIRTHDAY PARTY!.

Months ago, you had tirelessly scoured every library in town looking for an old copy of a vintage book your then-girlfriend wanted but wasn't finding anywhere. You sighed. You were saving it for her birthday. How unfortunate.

Your phone buzzed: It was Wanda, finally:

-Bday party dummy. Dont tell me you forgot :/ she really misses you btw-

‘’Fuck it’’ you muttered. And without giving it much of a thought, you put on your best outfit and hopped on your skateboard, heading straight for the party.

When you passed by her house, you couldn't breathe. The house was packed with people- her friends, including those who believed you weren't right for her. What were you doing here!? Go back! Go back!- Nervousness took over your body, causing you to trip and fall off your skateboard. And of course, people laughed.

When you stood up, you saw Nat standing on the porch of her house, looking at you.

She appeared…happy?

‘y/n…I- what are you doing here?’’ she asked, attempting to hide her smile, yet her eyes sparkled with delight.

‘Happy birthday’’ you said, handing her the gift. The sheer joy on her face made you grin like a fool as she opened it.

"Oh my god! Where—how did you find it? Thank you, y/n...I don't know what to say’’.

"You’re welcome Natty’’. Wait- did you really just call her that? Who refers to their ex with a pet name?. "Well, um, have a good night, Nat." You reached for your skateboard, ready to make your exit, but she stopped you.

‘Wait!’’. She sounded desperate. ‘’You don't have to go, it doesn't have to be like this. I know you don't like me anymore but-’’ . She sniffled. ‘I miss you....please stay?’’.

Natasha didn't hate you. Natasha missed you. SHE MISSED YOU.

Your heart was racing, everyone was watching the scene and you knew there were only 2 ways this could end: You could walk away or…

In a bold move, you dropped your skateboard and, cupping her face in your hands, you kissed her.

The wooing noises and teasing remarks from her friends were making you so embarrassed but you didn't care. Nothing mattered. No one’s thoughts did. The only thing that mattered is that you loved Nat and she loved you.

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As the party came to an end, you found a quiet moment to sit down and have a heartfelt conversation with her.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice my friends saying those things, y/n," she expressed, clearly upset.

"What? Baby, no, it's not your fault," you reassured her, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "I was the one who closed off and failed to communicate what I was going through... and it led to hurting you."

"Okay, hold on, no crying on my birthday," Nat interrupted, laughing softly as she gently wiped away your tears. Leaning in, she pressed a sweet kiss against your cheek. "We're together now," she whispered, her arms wrapping you in a warm embrace. "Everything will be alright, sweetie."

You mumbled a response, your voice barely audible. "What was that, hon?"  her eyes filled with curiosity. "Did you like my present then?" You said.

She nodded with a smile spreading across her face. "Yes, but I like this one even more," she confessed, tightening her embrace.

Oh, how you’d missed her.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romnoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff highschool au #marvel fanfiction #request #fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction

[rogueddie]

Finally being invited on one of his parents trips is... well, Steve tries to be normal about it, but he's excited. He's only been invited on two. Three if he's counting the one to Chicago for a big family get-together, which he doesn't.

The only problem comes up when they sit him down and ask about all the scars he has. They want the trip to be a fun time, a nice family get-away where they can give their little boy a little peace from the chaos of Hawkins.

When he struggled to think of an excuse, his mother softly asked if he did them himself.

Reluctantly, he ducked his head in feigned shame, nodding.

His mother hurried to her feet, almost sitting on him in her effort to squeeze onto the one-man seat with him, wrapping him up tight in her arms. She whispered promises of love and safety.

His father had a look like he'd swallowed a lemon, but he too promised to provide the support than Steve needs to get through... whatever he's going through.

Steve swears to them that he's dealt with it, he's over it. He's just trying to move on now.

"Fucking hell," Eddie hisses when Steve finishes telling them about it all. "You can't be real. They think you did that shit to yourself?" He gestures to Steves stomach.

"I don't think they know about those. The older ones do look, uh... suspicious."

He rubs the thin ones on his left wrist, where a demogorgons claws had caught him in that last, big fight. Eddies hand is gentle when he pulls said wrist closer, thumb brushing over the scars.

"You do make a good point."

"I'm gonna miss you," Steve mumbles.

"It's just a week."

"Yeah, tell me about."

And he's right- he's barely stepped off the plane, a short 5 hour flight, and he's already homesick. He wishes he could've thought of a way to convince his parents to let him invite a friend.

Once they're settled in, though, it's alright. There's a lot of activities, a lot of places to visit and a lot of things to try.

On their second day, they try to start the routine of spending most of midday at the beach. His parents sunbathe, whilst he swims in the sea. The water is cool, a relief from the heat.

They always make him put jeans on after.

It doesn't matter how many times he points out that it's more than uncomfortable- not only in the heat, but with the lingering water. They insist that he puts jeans on.

They'd gotten him the new jeans special. They're supposed to be thinner, better for heat.

"It just seems unnecessary," Steve had said when they'd first presented them to him. "I have so many shorts!"

"Sweetheart, your scars," his mother had pointed out. "People will look. You don't want to make us look bad, do you?"

For three days, he went along with it. He tried to ignore the discomfort. But the heat was too much. The water making the material rub uncomfortably against his skin.

On the fourth day, as he's drying himself, he hesitates. He stares at the jeans his mother holds out for a moment.

"What if... I don't wear them, right now? It's so hot and my legs are still wet. Just until we get back to the hotel."

"Steve, no, that's not a-"

"Please. Just until we get back to the hotel. Just today."

"You've already made up your mind, haven't you?" His mother sighs, shaking her head when he gives her a sheepish smile. "Fine. Get your things."

He's so happy, comfortable in his swim shorts, that he walks with a bounce in his step. The breeze on his legs is almost soothing.

He's tempted to skip as he starts up the street.

There's a bright little drinks shop up ahead that he spots. The advertisement signs have pictures of ice creams and smoothies, things that look tasty and cold.

He turns to ask his mother if she'd like to stop there for a drink, to cool down after sunbathing. But she's not behind him.

There not far behind him, so he stops. He grins when they look to him, waving... his hand slowly dropping when he realizes that they stopped walking, as soon as he stopped.

But they're looking to the map. Maybe they're lost.

When he starts walking to them, they turn, walking a few steps that match his own. The only thing in that direction is the beach.

They don't want to be seen with me, he realizes.

He turns back around, slowly walking to that little drink shop. Although, he's not sure he needs to buy anything to cool him down. His insides feel numb enough now.

He sits at one of the tables outside, wondering if his parents will even try to sit with him or just... abandon him.

They do sit with him, pretending like nothing happened. It's the same attitude they have when they get in the taxi, after distancing themselves on the walk there too. The promised trip to the mall abandoned without word.

Steve spends the rest of the little vacation in his room. He lies about being tired, not feeling too well, whenever they try to invite him out with them.

They buy him the top he'd been eyeing. They seem to think that the little gift, and bragging about it being expensive, will make him feel better. He's sure that it's not an apology though.

On the plane ride home, it's odd to think about how excited he'd been. How hopeful.

The only comfort is Eddie. He goes straight to him, immediately after dumping his suitcase in his room, not even bothering to unpack.

He's furious when Steve explains what happened.

"I've never liked your parents," he announces. He points to Wayne, who looks just as angry. "Wayne gets it. Assholes, right?"

"Assholes," Wayne grunts, nodding stiffly. "You deserve better than that, son."

"So much better," Eddie agrees, pulling him closer so he can kiss his cheek. He keeps littering his face with kisses, until Steve laughs. "You deserve the world, big boy."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #stevecentric #what if I told you that this is kind of a true story asdfghgfds