#dollar dogs au

[c-atm]

Dollar dogs chapter 2: reunited pt1

10 weeks ago

A red hover convertible floated down in front of the subtle-looking bar known as 'Three-eyed Love'. From inside, the driver looked out of the window and towards the top floor window to see what looked like paper cranes and planes being tossed out of them one after another, a usual sight. One that caused the driver to sigh in annoyance.

"Why am I his handler again?" The driver questioned himself, knowing the answer and regretting their history a bit.

Climbing out of his car and making his way to the bar entrance, he felt another sigh come as he pressed his finger on the wooden and steel door before entering.

"Afternoon Detective McKluth." The owner greeted," Here for pleasure, or is this another professional call."

The detective gave the owner a somewhat tired grin and pointed upward," Business, but I'll take a drink before beginning, Garnet."

Garnet pursed her full lips in a small smile," the usual, Kevin?" Her voice was cool silk to the ears, a welcoming sound to go with her curvaceous and alluring physique. She didn't wait for an answer as she began her work.

"So, how long has he been up?" Kevin inquired, looking at Garnet and her figure in her black and red bodysuit, which accentuated every curve of the African-British woman. Her afro was soft and steady as she made his drink, something called a twist martini.

"How many are out there?"

Kevin knew what she was referring to, the mess of cranes and planes that didn't quite get the same hangtime as the others.

"Didn't count," Kevin shrugged as his drink slid to him, "too busy wondering how I got this position."

"My," Garnet leaned over the bar, moving a bit closer, the cut of her collar surprisingly inviting, showing a fair amount of cleavage, "it's almost like you dread coming to my bar."

"Well, it's not your fault." Kevin smirked, taking a drink, "Your hospitality is always a joy."

"I'm aware, your eye-fucking assured that."

"I'm a detective, just trying to detect how you got all that sexy in that tight bodysuit."

"Though very salacious movements and very enticing hip rolls, from what I am told." She didn't smile, but her tone held joviality and tease.

"Lucky person, waking up next to you."

"No one gets to wake up next to me." Garnet spoke with a bit of steel and dark pleasure, "Unlike you Kevin, our dogs don't usually hold relationships and start a family."

"You're not a dog anymore. You served your assignments."

"Not an active one, but I do house one, Handler," Garnet stated with a bit of distaste.

"Another way those on top keep others under their thumb."

"You volunteered to be a dog," Kevin sipped his glass, savoring the taste, "I always wondered why, someone with no criminal record choosing to be a government dog, especially when the bounty hunter registration was right there."

"Government assistance, they still need to treat their little enforcers with some kind of respect, Detective," Garnet stated as she adjusted her three lens shades before taking a drink of her own. "Rather they like it or not, they need to keep us pleased, even those that are paying a debt to society, after all.."

Kevin watched as Garnet placed the now empty glass face down and flipped up her shades, revealing her three eyes; left a ruby red, right a sapphire blue, and on her forehead an eye the color of a purplish Garnet.

The same gem that embeds the palms of her hands since birth.

"The city's peaceful days rely on its dogs' fangs... isn't that right, Handler?"

Kevin was about to respond when heavy footsteps could be heard from the staircase behind the bar; its furthest northwest corner.

"Hey Garnet, can I get a broom? I..." The voice of Steven resounded before he showed himself.

Opening the red and blue swirl-painted door, the gem hybrid revealed himself, dressed in a black tank top and slacks; he gave them both a look over before turning his attention to Kevin, his handler.

"You're earlier than expected, McKluth," Steven spoke nonchalantly as he made his way to Kevin. "How's Holly and Helen?"

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Steven gave a smile through half-lidded eyes.

Kevin threw himself away from Steven's grasp, nearly falling on his ass as he moved, only for Steven to catch his wrist.

"Now, it's not a good look for a handler to be afraid of his dog, is it?" Steven pulled him up to his feet, "the dog just might bite if they feel they can't trust their handler." Steven grinned before wiping his shoulders, "Lucky, I know I can trust you, Kevin. Giving our history."

"You.."

"But, that was a lifetime ago, " Steven interrupted, a smirk on his face that was gentle but sent a shiver down Kevin's spine, though the detective didn't let it show as he cleared his throat.

"Right...A lifetime ago." Kevin mumbled referring to the ex-criminal. 'Still doesn't wash away your past extortion methods,' Kevin thought to himself before pulling out a metal circular disk with a bluish-green platform in the middle and placing it on the bar.

"Can I get a drink, Garnet?" Steven asked the bartender as he sat down eyes on the dusk as its center began to light up, displaying a hardlight folder.

Garnet glanced at Kevin, her expression unreadable, before turning her attention to Steven. She nodded and prepared a drink for him, the corners of her lips curving slightly. "Here you go, Steven," she said, sliding the glass over to him. "Enjoy."

Steven took a sip of his drink and turned his attention back to Kevin, his eyes flickering with an intensity that made Kevin uneasy. "So, what's the assignment this time?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and mischief.

Kevin sighed, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a small holographic device. He activated it, projecting an image of a man onto the bar counter. "This is Gregory Kane," he explained, pointing at the figure. "He's a renowned tech genius who recently went missing under mysterious circumstances."

Steven leaned forward, studying the image intently. His eyes glimmered with excitement as he processed the information. "Interesting," he murmured.

"He's also a serial killer or so we believe," Kevin added quickly as he took a sip of his drink.

"You believe?"

"Every officer who tried to find him never returned. so far five are still missing."

Steven hummed looking at the holographic image of Gregory; he looked between 35-40, and his sharp features held a kind and tired expression with his grayish-blue eyes and slightly combed-back hairstyles. His skin was flushed red and his lips were clammy, chipped, and thin. "Doesn't look much of a murderer to me."

"Looks can be deceiving, you should know that more than anyone, Mr. Pink."

Steven kissed his teeth at his handler's comment, his eyes taking on a dangerous pink glow, "I'm not that person anymore." Steven gave a small grin that didn't reach his eyes, "despite what you think."

"No, you might be more dangerous now."

"Only for criminals." Steven chuckled, "Besides, I'm more of a lover now; like I said not that person anymore and paying my dues to this fair city."

"Sure, you're a hero." Kevin blew an annoyed sigh" A bastion of goodness and light."

"Ha! Far from it!" Steven laughed, "But I'm much better than I used to be. Trying to be better. "

"Trying huh?" Kevin questioned, a sense of unease settling in his gut as he watched Steven's playful demeanor.

"Is that why you litter the front with paper planes? Trying to reach someone, Maybe?"

Steven hummed taking a sip, "Not something for you to know, McKluth." His voice held a slight warning, "Personal matters."

"Which makes you hard to trust, Pink."

"I handle the work given to me, don't I? Two years in, I haven't acted outside of my contract."

"Sure, but the whole change came a bit too quickly, and after disappearing for a time before... there's a whole blank period in your past."

"It's in the past why worry about it?"

"Because I've been extorted by you and your family in the past."

"You were just an informant."

"And you used my then-girlfriend as a pawn to keep me in line, didn't you, Pink."

Steven kissed his teeth gulping his drink, his demeanor hardening as a bit of guilt gripped his heart, "Well that's why I requested you as my handler, now you get to boss me around, retribution or whatever. leave it in the past."

Kevin clenched his fists, trying to suppress the anger that burned within him. Memories of that time flooded his mind—the fear, the desperation, the feeling of being trapped. He had thought he would never escape Steven's clutches. "Sure, says the one who still trapped in his own past. broken heart maybe?"

Steven said nothing but gave a low humorless chuckle as he took the last of his drink.

"Oh, now that's surprising if a little funny" Kevin pushed seeing Steven's hand tighten," Didn't think you have a special someone...or Had, I should say."

Steven's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and pain, his pink glow intensifying. "Drop it, McKluth," he warned through gritted teeth.

But Kevin was relentless. "Who was it? Someone you couldn't save? Or someone who couldn't handle the truth about you?"

Garnet watched the exchange silently, her three eyes observing everything with an unreadable expression. She could sense the tension in the air, the weight of their shared history hanging over them like a dark cloud.

Suddenly, a violent surge of energy erupted from Steven, crackling with pink electricity. The bar patrons around them started to back away, sensing the danger in the air. Kevin braced himself for an attack, but before Steven could unleash his powers, Garnet stepped in between them.

"Gentlemen..."Garnet's voice cut through the tense air like a blade. Both Kevin and Steven turned to look at her, surprised by the sternness in her tone. She placed her hands on the bar, her gemstones glowing with a fiery intensity. "Enough," she said firmly. "There's no room for grudges and personal vendettas here. You have a job to do, and going to do it professionally."

steven sighed before nodding and turning to the folder.

"Right," Kevin muttered, his gaze fixed on the holographic image of Gregory Kane. "We need to track him down before he strikes again."

Steven nodded curtly, his pink eyes flickering with curiosity before reverting to his normal brown.

"So do you have any idea about where he might be?" Steven inquired, "I doubt he would still be in the city by now?"

"That's the thing." Kevin started, "He usually stays on the city outskirts, and has a whole mansion-like lab up there."

"Government funded, I'm sure," Garnet commented.

"State government funded." Kevin injected, "His research is greatly respected, but can't fund a possible murderer."

"And paying the families of these maybe deceased cops is hurting the government's pockets." Steven sneered with a huff,

"enough to send one of their very expendable dogs."

"Believe it or not, I'm not a fan of it, but it is what it is." Kevin clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at Steven's tone. He had always known that Steven had a rebellious streak, but sometimes it rubbed him the wrong way. Still, he couldn't deny Steven's effectiveness when it came to getting the job done.

"Such a bleeding heart."

"Compensation, government-paid board, freedom, and a chance to get your record clean." Kevin listed off several perks of Steven's situation." You have more than the regular nine-to-five, or local officer." His nostrils flared in annoyance, "Not that the government cares about the lives of a few cops when compared to their precious funding."

"But you do," Garnet stated looking at Kevin's disappointed and sardonic demeanor.

"They're my fellow officers, good men, women, and others. Like me, they care about justice and protecting innocent lives," Kevin took a gulp of his drink finishing it off before placing it down.

"Going to their families to announce their disappearance... yeah, it weighs heavy on me...add that to the higher-ups who only care about their interests, and make those on the front lines expendable. Sometimes the government feels as criminal as the gangs and mobs we try to take down."

"every institution has its corruption." Steven stated as he got up from his seat, "That's why justice is singular as it is varied." he stretched his arms, "But that is a conversation for another time. so where are we going?"

"Woods in the county of Reekskill," Kevin stated as the hologram shifted to a map highlighting a dense forest area with a path heading to the center of the area. " The mansion itself is near the center."

"Not on the map I see, an unregistered address?"

"No address, government wanted to keep it under wraps," Kevin stated as he pressed on the hologram showing the Co-ordinates of the mansion,' "Need to keep protecting their assets after all."

Steven smirked at the sarcasm," So we're just bringing him in, right?"

"You're just bringing him in." Kevin corrected.

"What?"

"There's some other business I have to attend to." Kevin told Steven as he gave him the holodisk, " But yes, the goal is to bring him in alive."

"I'll make sure he's unharmed." Steven agreed

"Never said unharmed." Kevin said pointedly, " I said alive. Just use your best judgment... Depending on any of the officers you might find."

"and if they all are dead?" Steven arched his brow as his handler finished his drink.

"my statement still stands," Kevin informed " Alive, don't care how alive..."

Steven whistled, a dark smirk coming to his face, "Aye aye, sir."

Garnet shook her head with a smirk, "I'll clean up the mess you made outside, go get ready for work Steven."

"Work." Steven chuckled as he headed towards the stairs, " Thanks for cleaning up Garnet, I'll make it up to you."

"You always say that." Garnet grinned as the hybrid made his way upstairs. door closing behind him. She turned to Kevin who was getting ready to leave himself, "So, they coming today, huh?"

Kevin smirked, " They should be in the city in a few hours, I'll be there to pick them up...Thanks for giving them a place to stay."

"Hey, I'm just looking after a fellow dog, besides I've known them since they were sixteen years old, it would be nice to see them again..." She went to get a garbage bag and broom, "It's not a problem, you want to come with to pick them up?"

"Naw, you have your business to run and everything. I'll be back later to drop them off." Kevin smirked, " Later G."

"Say hi to the missus and little one for me." Garnet waved as the detective closed the door behind him.

Meanwhile, on a hover train, A mother is watching her child read an AR newspaper with a smile on her face, the child's pink gem belly button slightly peeking from under their t-shirt.

Unaware that she and her child are being watched. if one was detailed enough they would see an indigo tattoo peeking from the watcher's wrist, as they reached for a hidden weapon.

a tattoo that symbolizes one belonging to a branch of an assassin clan.

a less detailed offshoot of the same tattoo bored by mother and child alike. the runaway princess and her child.

They bear the mark of the main family of the Maheswaran, the world's deadliest assassin clan.

#connie maheswaran #steven universe #connverse #steven universe future #older connie #steven and connie #older steven #su connie #dollar dogs au #Garnet #kevin

[lotus-pear]

i think you guys are onto smth..

i unironically got invested in this HELP

#WHERES THE FIC AT IF SOMEONE WRITES THIS I WILL PAY THEM A HUNDRED DOLLARS😭😭 #kunikida serving the country while dazai's serving cunt😔 #dazai was born to malewife but forced to manipulate and i think that's the greatest tragedy of bsd #anyway some facts i would like to share abt this au thay i came up w while drawing!! #takes place in 1939 (start of wwii) and there was a mandatory draft that required one male over eighteen from each house to serve #both of them are still twenty two and had been engaged for abt two years before getting married that year #newlyweds! unfortunately kuni had to go fight and they were seperated :( #before the war kunikida was a math teacher at the local high school and dazai obviously managed the household and didn't work #he's hopeless at cooking and meal prep even w recipie books so they either get those prepackaged meals or kuni makes dinner when he gets ba #so like when he's making lunch for kunikida he normally just packs a basic sandwich w raw fruit #kunikida always appreciates the effort even tho hes probably sick of having the same thing everyday but he won't complain abt it #when kunikida joined the army he was relieved that the mess hall had better food than dazai #he was the only one in his platoon that never complained abt the food so his fellow soldiers assumed it was bc he came from a tough bg #when in reality he was just used to being poisoned on a daily basis from his dumbass husbands cooking and was hardly fazed from army ration #they write to each other although its more dazai sending and kuni receiving bc hes off fighting and doesnt have time to write back #dazai talks abt life on the homefront and how he has to grow a victory garden (everything is DYING HE CANT EVEN RAISE TOMATOES) #and kuni writes abt his fellow soldiers and how the war is going and when he thinks he'll be home and how he misses sleeping in a bed #ANYWAY yea thought i'd share sry for infodumping in the tags again #this post is for like the four ppl that care abt this specific flavor of knkdz so hopefully this gets four notes at least #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #kunikida doppo #doppo kunikida #kunikidazai #knkdz #lotus draws #bro sry for posting at two in the morning i couldnt sleep until i got this out of my head they have infested my brain

[anguilliforme]

What’s the point of blade covers if it doesn’t look like a creature of some sort has died on them

#personal #figure skating #the blade cover market in Australia is ABYSMAL #literally guard dog brand or those horrible edea/C.N./jerrys guards that I personally hate with a passion #I’ve had to pay to import some hideous dead creature looking soakers from the fuckin US #us->aus shipping is so so expensive all the time constantly #sixty dollars I’m almost ashamed to claim on tax

[monstertsunami]

question about the taur au: bc crona is a rattlesnake and snakes shed their skin, does crona in this au also shed their skin? and if they do is it only the snake part or their entire body that sheds?

YES!! yes they absolutely shed the skin on their snake half! snakes shed bc their skin doesnt grow with their body, so they need to shed the layer to make room for new growth or smthn like that. very poetic. humans dont need to shed bc we're already shedding little dead flakes 24/7 yk? so each of their halves works how it would on its own, they shed their snake half like a snake would!

im still debating whether or not i should give snaketaurs eyecaps. every other taur has facial features like noses or ears similar to their animal (inspired by all the fanart that did this despite my original doodles excluding it), so im thinking that the brille could be what snaketaurs have? it would provide for an interesting roadblock during shedding as the fluids that loosen the old skin appear under the eyecap and make it nearly impossible for a snake thats "in blue" to see. itd add a lot of stuff to snaketaur culture, turning bathouse-style shed centers to more of a hotel style that people arrive at before theyre rendered blind.

BACK TO CRONA- they have horrible issues with stuck shed, they dont tend to go to communal shed-houses or control their own room's humidity. they tend to manually pick at their dead skin after a shed instead, almost as a nervous tick. its possible that they just dont know what to do to shed properly as medusa never taught them, or that they do it intentionally. when they resided in the DWMA, they were provided proper humidity but freaked out until the staff removed it. in my first ever taurpost i actually included a few doodles of them w/ stuck shed, and maka tossing them into a bathtub to help get it off!

#taur au #crona #crona gorgon #TYY FOR THE ASK AAAA #squealing and kicking my legs back and forth #also bonus: rattlesnakes gain a new rattle w/ every shed #but they tend to break or fall off easily #so theyre not actually a good gauge for a rattlesnake's age #literally just a fun rattlesnake fact its not related to this au at all. my autism took over #if i got any facts in this post wrong plz take me out back and shoot me like a dog #boss makes a dollar i make a dime thats why i answer asks on company time

[djpurple3]

I was very very stupid just now (spent too much money on youtuber merch)

#dj rambles #its okay.... i will receive a tshirt with sunkist the perfect dog on it and all will be well #why the Fuck is tax added afterwards #why are you surprisih me at chrckout #the shirt was TWENTY dollars more. before echange rate. at least aus to nzd isnt too bad #youtubers who have aud purchases available i am kissing u w/ tongue

[tteokdoroki]

✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he��d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body. 

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

 he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal. 

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock. 

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.” 

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i  the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?” 

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell. 

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride. 

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.” 

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base. 

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise. 

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks. 

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!” 

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms  his hard and heavy cock as he pleases. 

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears. 

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires. 

you think you prefer that side of you more. 

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.” 

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation. 

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle. 

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends. 

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him. 

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell. 

that day, you learn two valuable lessons: 

one —  never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills. 

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo smut #gojo thirst #jjk thirsts #jujutsu kaisen thirst #tw: stepcest #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #angelshubnetwork

[bitchlessdino]

scream your heart out (m)

🔪pairing: fem!reader x seventeen (???) 🔪genre: horror, slasher, smut 🔪tags: DISCLAIMIER!!! MAY NOT SUIT MOST AUDIENCES, Graphic sexual and violent imagery color coded in pink, abrupt changes in text color, features/mentions members (Chan, Seungkwan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Seungcheol, Seokmin, Junhui, Soonyoung, Joshua), established relationships, scream au!seventeen, Hybristophilia, erotophonophilia, homicidophilia, graphic images, mention panic attacks, smoking, mentions disfigurement of faces, severed body parts, knives, guns, threatening phone calls, face masks (horror), knife wielding, blood, gore, death/murder, knife play, bloody handjobs, cum mixing with blood, consensual sex but nonconsensual murder, HONESTLY SOME REALLY FUCKED UP SHIT AND IM SORRY BUT YALL SHOULD BE READING THE WARNINGS, sexual innuendos, kitchen sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, cream pies, cuck! (??) member, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breeding kink, PLS LET ME KNOW IF IM MISSING ANYTHING PLS 🔪word count: 6.8k 🔪summary: you and your friends get caught up in a classic horror slasher movie, only it's in real life. Now you're off to fend for yourselves in Seungcheol's million dollar home. The question is, did you keep them out, or did you just lock them in? 🔪author note: thank you @multi-kpop-fanfics and @wonwussy for beta reading for me <3. here's some of their notes “I’m scratching my face to not fucking scream” “WELL SHIT BRO WHAT THE FUCK” -Zeta “It definitely does capture that slasher essence” -SJ this was so fun yet mind numbing to write but this is way more extreme than anything I’ve ever written like I lost a lot of sanity writing this. FR one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever written. I hope it was worth it. ENJOY EVERYONE and even tho it came out late HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Ever since the murders over a week ago, everyone in town has been on edge. All including the individuals most closely involved.

You had lost three core members of your eight. 

Joshua, someone you’ve known since grade school who was sliced open from the back before being stabbed 8 times to the point of excessive bleeding. He had just gone out to walk his dog, the poor creature being the only reason they found his body at all. If not for the dog’s bloody paws, and the trail of blood they left behind finding help, Joshua’s cadaver would’ve lost deep in the woods.

And then Chan, your long-time boyfriend, was stabbed fifteen times in the chest. His face was so disfigured from obvious violence and what looked to be burn scars, that he was practically unrecognizable if not for the fact he died in his own home. Police are still looking for his severed arms and legs to this day with no luck.

And finally, Seungkwan, who hadn’t died but lost to the paranoia festering in his blood like a disease. That caused him to take the train to the furthest destination possible to attempt to escape death if at all possible, leaving the rest of you with only the reassuring texts he left in his wake.

All that was left was you, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Wonwoo; the core five.

“Okay, absolutely no one is leaving this house for the time being. Until the psycho is caught behind bars, dead, or whatever the fuck! We’re safe here.”

Seungcheol, the eldest, did just as expected: contacted the rest of you into a personal prison. Luckily, he was loaded. The prison happened to be six thousand square feet of space with countless rooms, amenities, and a housekeeper to boot. From the looks of it, it’s paradise, but it’s definitely a prison.

“Holy shit, you have an indoor basketball court?”

A prison with an indoor basketball court. And a pool apparently.

Seokmin wasted no time to enjoy these features, breaking out of his clothes and cannonballing in his underwear. If you knew any better, Seokmin didn’t even look like he went through any trauma at all. It looked like every other day for him.

“There's a murderer and you’re doing butterfly strokes?” You asked, baffled.

The golden man scoffed, reaching the edge of the pool and resting against it with his forearms. “What am I gonna do? Wallow, crying to my mom, worrying about dying, and not taking advantage of this gorgeous mansion we’re staying in?”

“Thank you, Seokmin,” Seungcheol grinned.

Seokmin winked back at him, “Of course, daddy.”

“How are you both so unserious about all this?”

Wonwoo left a kind hand against your shoulder, looking back at you with warm eyes and a small smile. “They’re grieving. Just in their own way.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “They’re being ridiculous. We shouldn’t be here. We need to be at the police station or something.”

“You were there when I got the call. The creepy voice said no police or you all die. Remember?”

You shuddered, hands over your sides to relieve your chilled skin. “Of course I do, but we’re sitting ducks here. This isn’t any better. We need protection.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to scoff then. He strutted in front of you, flaunting his wing span before flexing his arms and then crossing them over his chest. “Well, you have me.”

“And me,” Seokmin joined. “Pure muscle right here.”

“Maybe pure laughing gas, not sure about muscle. We’re actually living in a horror movie right now and you’re all making jokes.”

“Hey,” Wonwoo stroked your head as his soothingly deep voice serenaded you, “Don’t say that. We’ll make it out of here.”

His arms come around you, forearms pressed against your collarbones, and his chin crooked over your shoulder. “You have me too. I would run through that knife before it could get to you.”

You genuinely smile for the first time being there, your hand stroking over his embrace. Wonwoo delicately kissed the temple of your forehead, reminding you what it was like to be constantly adored.

You were grateful for what he had become in your life. Wonwoo had kept you company in your time of need. In the absence of Chan. He had come to your house with whatever he thought you might need, lent you his shoulder that you could cry on, lent his ears so that he could listen, lent his body that you could heal. In more ways than one.

“You’re right. You are.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his body and meeting his eyes framed in specs of hard plastic. “You’re the first person I can sacrifice if we face them head to head.”

He mused at you. “Ooh, now look who’s pulling jokes.”

“Who said I was joking?”

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Minghao commented coming through the back door. “Horror movie rules: they get killed while having sex.”

You punched the new face right in the arm, watching him scurry away to your other friends laughing.

“Not funny, Hao.”

Minghao sneers at you, a jester smile still on his face. “Ease up, princess. Wonwoo, watch your girl.”

“Only because she’s so pretty to look at,” he briefly grinned down at you before directing his attention to Minghao sternly, “but come on. We’re all a little psyched right now. Cool it with the murder talk. Alright?”

Wonwoo pulled you aside into the dining area, ignoring the careless laughter outside. His thumb stroked against your knuckles, lips pressing sweetly against your cheeks. His grin sunk deeper in his cheeks the further he made it past your jaw and then down your neck. He felt your throat vibrate against his lips. “Wonwoo…”

“I can’t have all these guys get you heated like this. That’s my job,” he teased with a rasp.

You slightly pushed him off, your arms swung over his shoulders. “You’re so ridiculous right now.”

“Anything to put that smile on your face.”

His lips reconnected with your neck, nipping at your skin. His humming sent tingles down your spine, and he took your body to press you against the side of the counter. Your hands grasped his baggy shirt, lip close to his ear, fanning your breath against his face. You smiled like a girl in love. Obsessed.  “Daddy…”

“I love it when you call me that,” he mumbled, just as love-struck, if not more. Your giggles brought out the pink on Wonwoo’s ears and cheeks while tightening the groin of his pants. You noticed immediately, cupping it in your palm, and running your finger along the seam. Your eyes skimmed over his taken expression, leaning your full weight into him. “I know there’s something else you really love.”

“Do you now?”

You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “But do you really want to do it here? Risk getting caught?”

He leaned into your touch, allowing your fingers to take apart his pants. “Try new things right? Like you always say. Plus you’re scared. Gonna turn that fear into pleasure. Make you feel good, just what my baby deserves.”

“You're so good to me, Daddy,” you moaned.

His hand finds the hem of your shorts, pulling them down to expose yourself to the cold air. He fingered through your panties and slid two digits through your folds. He felt your breath hitch as he squeezed your clit, eliciting your soft whines. “You’re so wet down there, baby.”

“Just waiting for daddy to fuck me where anyone can find us and watch.”

Wonwoo eagerly pulled down his pants, kicking them and yours aside, but not without pocketing your underwear. He lifted you up slightly from the ground, his exposed cock hitting at your hip. “Look what you do to me.”

Your throat went dry at the sight of him, hand aching to wrap your hand around his girth and have him shoved inside you.

He didn’t let you wait a second long, and pushed in slowly inch by inch, burying himself in your pussy until he was nearly balls deep. You grasped his shoulder in a gasp, savoring the fire burning in your stomach. The girth of his cock stretched your molten walls, allowing them to melt all around his cock as he spread your legs. You writhe in his embrace, your limbs closing around his lean and toned build, already blissful from the few seconds of him being inside you.

Wonwoo’s words kissed your lips, flushed your skin, and left a permanent smile on your face. It swelled pride in his chest, better than any physical trophy would have. His hips slowly rolled against yours, letting you adjust to his size. He massaged the flesh of your side through his fingers, mentally reassuring himself you were his and his alone, but his names on your lips became more than proof.

Your hips buckled towards him in heat, matching his pace before the carnal side of him decided to fuck you like an animal. His cock then plunged sharply inside you, and then again, a whimper coming out of your lips. Your hips stuttered the harder he pounded, arching your back, you felt his hand above your ass, pushing you against him.

“Daddy…”

He lost control when it came to you, addicted—religious—the second your body came in contact with his. He loved how your fingers ran through his hair, not caring how his glasses fell off his face in the process. With drool out of the corner of his lips, he could feel the blood rush up to the surface of your skin, making him feel warm at home inside you. Throbbing, he only got harder feeling how perfectly snug you were, pricking his clammy skin with goosebumps as he bottomed out.

“You’re sopping, precious,” he murmured with a sly grin.

He had you begging, flustered, and beautiful. Your hand clasped his face as your other arm looped around his neck, swallowing his lips, anxious and thirsty for his breath. You craved every part of him viscerally. “Cum in me, daddy. Please…”

He scoffed, lips ghosting over yours. “Will you take every bit of daddy’s cum, hmm? Hold my cum inside you.”

You nodded gingerly. “Yes, yes. I promise, daddy. Give it to me please, I want you to spill your cum inside me and make me yours…”

“Hold on to me.”

You obliged, met with the hot stream of his climax, yours quick to follow. He embraced your sides, devouring your lips and muffling your whines. His loads pumped into you in erratic thrusts, fucking his cum back into you and making sure you drained him of every ounce. His fingers dug into your flesh, feeling you just come apart for him, undoing the tension that festered earlier.

But that tension was needed. It was necessary to survive. Everyone let themselves forget the current predicament, basking in the glow of the sunset until dinner time arrived. Despite the housekeeper that supposedly exists, she hadn’t been around since all of you stepped foot in the house, like a ghost presence. Seungcheol scrambled to find her—reminding you of his peculiar obsession with the woman—as he wondered when dinner would be ready since a rise in temperature or a savory scent couldn’t be found in the kitchen.

“That’s strange. She’d be finished with a whole chicken by now,” the homeowner commented, noticeably picking his nails.

“Aww,” Seokmin groaned, “Well, is there anything else to eat?”

“I mean…you can look around.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “This is your house. You don’t know what you have in your own house?”

“You try navigating a five-story home with countless cabinets!”

“Buy a smaller house, you prick!”

“Guys!” Minghao chimed in. “Breathe in…and out. We’ll just find food. Seungcheol, your maid, your house, your search. She’s probably fine.”

Your hands slammed against those pristine marble counters. “We are NOT splitting up right now. This is what the killer wants. She’s probably already dead and we’re fucked.”

Wonwoo came to your side, laying a cool calm over your shoulder, and rubbed your sides. You let yourself melt in his touch, his sweet voice soothing you effectively. 

Seokmin sat up from his stool, “Okay, okay. I will help Seungcheol and you guys stick together.”

“That’s still splitting up!”

“Better than alone.” Seungcheol rebutted. “You guys stay.”

Despite your protests, they went on their search. Your head banged against Wonwoo’s chest, muttering in anguish about how everything was going wrong and that it’d only get worse. Meanwhile, Minghao seemed to regain some of that tension but masked the fear with the bright light of his phone, scrolling through TikTok. You didn’t know what was more annoying, sensation of imminent death possibly behind any door, or the same five songs replaying on Minghao’s feed.

After 15 minutes when they were nowhere to be seen, your patience had run thin. You picked yourself up from Wonwoo’s lap and dusted yourself off. “Fuck this. We’re finding them.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, a concerned glow in his gaze. “Babe, hey. They’ve got it. Trust them.”

“Wonwoo, you know I can’t do that. Let’s just find them, hmm? Together?”

“Not a bad idea,” Minghao agreed. “Better in groups right? We go together, eliminate us as any potential suspects.”

Your boyfriend sighed, collected your hand, and laced his fingers through yours. “Fine.”

You were all joined together by the hip, making sure you were each other's sights. Through the wider than wingspan hallways, past the ridiculously expensive sculptures, you kept your eyes out for your estranged friends. Silence couldn’t have been more loud in these cavernous spaces, only hearing the gut feelings in your stomachs that’s churned in trepidation. Every step taken was the group closing in on the killer. 

Fortitude meant nothing if the danger was already inside.

Before turning around the corner, Minghao—reluctant to lead the group—crashed into a human-sized obstacle, causing the stumble of your entire party. You all faced a wide-eyed Seungcheol with the missing young housekeeper walking hand in hand with him. Suspicious, but besides the point.

“Holy shit, we said we’d come back!”

“It’s been 20 minutes, Cheol! You guys could’ve been dead for all we know.” You retorted.

“Wait, where’s Seokmin?” Wonwoo asked, noticing he didn’t see him nearby.

“He went ahead. He needed to piss or something and meet up later.”

“You idiot.” Your eyes burned a frustrated rage. “I said don't split up. DON’T SPLIT UP! That’s the number one rule of horror movies. You’re going get us fucking killed. He could be the murderer for all we know.”

Seungcheol scoffed, shaking his head. “Seokmin? No way. He’s the last person to even think to do that.”

“Well, do you see him? No! Probably he’s off someone being Ghostface reject with his stupid little voice modulator and cheap party city costume.”

“I told you—“ Before he could finish, his phone went off in the nick of time. When he pulled it out to saw Seokmin’s caller ID on display and the owner of the device wouldn’t help but smile. “See the bastard is even calling.”

He picked up and put him on speaker, eyeing you cheekily, amped to prove you wrong. “Seok, you little shit. How long does it take to piss, huh? Just say you wanted to take a dump.”

“Oh yeah, I took the shittiest, stinkiest, fattest dump. You could probably smell all the way from the other end of the hall.”

Instead of Seokmin on the other line, all of you were met with the eerie voice that had called you multiple times before. The voice that felt like spiders crawling up your legs. The voice that had you second guess whether you locked the front and the back door. The voice whose owner had killed countless people already. 

Seungcheol held the phone in a vice grip swallowing, fear stilling in his unsteady eyes. “You—Where the fuck is Seokmin, you son of a bitch?”

The morphed voice on the other end laughed, sounding bone chilling as nails against a blackboard. “What’s to say? Why don’t we play a little game to find out?”

“Mother fu—“You grabbed the phone from Seungcheol to answer in his place, cutting the older man off. “Why go through with this?”

“Why, I just want to help you find your beloved friend. All out of the kindness of my heart.”

“If it was all kindness, you could tell us where he is.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Psycho,” Minghao muttered under his breath, eyes wide in shock and fear, as if registering the idea of death for the first time.

“And if we refuse?” Wonwoo interjected.

“Seokmin dies, rock for brains,” Seungcheol gritted.

“Ding, ding, ding. Or should I say, chop, chop, chop, since that’s what'll happen if you get any of my questions wrong.”

You scoffed, coming down the stairs with your friends to follow. “Have at it then, you freak.”

“Hey, hey, play nice. Maybe I’ll get too excited and decide to cut him up early.”

Seungcheol glared at you briefly before taking back the phone, storming down the stairs, and reaching the ground floor. “Ask away, as long as Seokmin is safe.”

“First an easy one. What’s your favorite scary movie, Seungcheol?”

His feet stopped at the end of the couch in his living room, stammering to answer. “What kind of fucking question—uh, The Ring?”

“Don’t lie to your friends, Seungcheol. You know that’s not the answer, that’s just what you say to anyone that asks. Say the real answer.”

“That’s the movie though!” he started to shout, visibly shaking.

“Just say it, Cheol!” Minghao pushed.

“Stop playing around Choi Seungcheol! Just say it,” You joined.

“Fine!” He faced the friends, evidently swallowing his pride as he choked up on his answer. “I never watched a goddamn scary movie! Is that what you want to hear? I get panic attacks every time I hear one in the background, why do you I’m always going off smoking when you guys put one on,” he confessed through his tears.

“Congratulations. Your first right answer. Now was that so hard? Pussy boy?”

“Fuck you,” Seungcheol sputtered, tossing the phone back to you.

“Next question. ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,’ Leatherface is known for wearing a mask when it was in fact several. How many and what were they in the original movie?”

“Who the fuck would know an answer like that?” Minghao croaked in disbelief.

“Three. A ‘Killing Mask’, an ‘Old Lady Mask’ and a ‘Pretty Woman Mask.’” Wonwoo calmly answers, garnering horrified looks all around. “I wanted to be a filmmaker, remember?”

“Correct. Next question. What Was Freddy Krueger's serial killer nickname before he died?”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” you said slightly panicked, “Wonwoo?”

“The Springwood slasher.”

“Wow, Another amazingly correct answer. Hold on to that one, Y/n. He’s a keeper. He’s smart and fucks your brains out to the point of you screaming bloody murder? What a catch.”

You didn’t respond, impatience seething on the tip of your tongue, “Just tell us where this is all going.”

“Patience, sweetheart. Last question. What exact kind of knife does Ghostface use in the Stab movies? Here’s a hint: it’s the same one I’m holding in my hand against Seokmin’s throat. (Help me please...)”

“S-Seok.” Seungcheol gasped.

Seokmin’s voice could barely be heard on the other end, weak and afraid, only staggering breaths audible.

“Wonwoo, please,” Seungcheol begged, tears falling past his neck. “He’s our best friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed, gears visibly creaking in his head, “I know he uses a hunting knife, b-but—“

“Oh…” the voice cooed, “Well, that’s just not enough, is it? Seokminnie, say goodbye to your friends (Please, no…).”

“Seokmin!”

“Wait!” You barged, clutching the phone to the point of it almost bending. “A modified Buck 120. I remember now. It’s coming back to me. Now, let Seokmin go!”

The line went dead and in turn, light cast in the evening darkness of the poolside. All your eyes shot back at the change of light, startled at the sight in front of them. Seokmin was seated in a chair, bruises against his sides, bleeding from the splices on his forearms, and duct tape over his mouth. Yet the most frightening part was his closed eyes.

“Seokmin!”

You all rushed towards him, swinging the porch door in a panic. Seungcheol tried slapping him awake, pleading he’d be alive. “Seokmin please, please, wake up…

The poor victim's eyes start to flicker open, mumbling through the adhesive over his lips.

“Buddy,” Seungcheol ripped the duct tape clean off him, his ear coming up to his friend’s lips. “Speak to me…”

Seokmin’s voice came out in croaks, hardly incoherently, all except, “Be…hind…”

Minghao spat up blood, doubled over as Ghostface was revealed right behind him, and fell right into the pool. You and the housekeeper both let out a blood-curdling scream. The masked intruder wiped off the blood using his black rope, anticipating a lunge towards their next victim. 

“Run,” Wonwoo breathed out. 

He took your hand and ran with it. Taking a second to look back, you see Seungcheol and the housekeeper try to escape similarly before she was tugged right back towards the killer and she was stabbed right in front of him five times, each one faster than the last, having the poor Seungcheol paralyzed and fallen on his knees. The sounds of suffering were loud enough to hear throughout the neighborhood.

Wonwoo dragged you back upstairs, his survival instinct telling him to seek haven high and far up the house. 

“You left them there to die,” You proclaimed.

“He said he could manage it. You’re more important.”

“You actually believe that? Ghostface snuck up on Minghao with neither of us looking!”

“We’re going to have to. Secungcheol can handle himself.”

Finally, he finds the room, closing the door behind him and pushing heavy furniture in front of it for more time to stall. “We’ll be ok for a little bit here. Let’s look for weapons.”

He started rummaging through drawers, looking for anything strap, blunt, heavy, anything worth using. He was red in the face, sweat drenching his entire body. The only thing running through his mind was keeping you, the most important person in his life, safe. 

“Wonwoo, I don’t know if we’re going to find anything. Fuck. I’m so scared right now.”

He recognized the panic in your eyes, the bounce in your step, and the quiver in your voice. “Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.” He grasped your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumb. 

“I’m here, hmm.” He kissed your closed eyes. “You’re alright.”

Then your tempered cheeks. “We’ll get through this.”

The tip of your nose. “I love you like hell.” 

Finally your trembling lips. “I’ll keep you alive.”

“Promise?” You managed to breathe out.

“Scouts honor.”

The banging resonated from outside the locked door, only getting louder and closer every passing second as if teasing you to death. You shook in Wonwoo’s embrace, burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to die here, baby.”

“You won’t. Not with me.” One arm wrapped around your body, and another had his fingers locked around the base of a lamp, tugging it from the outlet. Pitch darkness joined you, only having to rely on the dim-lit sky through the peek of the windows.

Whomever on the other side cracked through the wood of the door, breaking it piece by piece as it fell to the ground, knocking over the dresser that blocked 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Wonwoo pushed you behind him.

Finally, your barrier came down with a final kick, rendering it useless. Wonwoo let out a battle cry, charging at them with the lamp above his head. He swung his weapon while Ghostface swung theirs, both missing simultaneously. Gritting his teeth, Wonwoo pulled forward, aiming for the head.

They crash against the wall in the process, but not without mutilating the midsection of Wonwoo’s stomach. The visually impaired man fell back to the ground, groaning in agony as he clutched his stomach, while blood trickled through his fingers. “Mother fucker...”

Wonwoo’s vision started to fight against him with the loss of his glasses, dimming images before him, and slowly processing the murderous figure trodding before him. Wonwoo’s determination picked him right back up slowly, picking up his lamp once again, trying to take another move toward the perpetrator. And by pure luck, the lamp crashed against the crown of their head.

Ghostface stumbled back, quick to recover but visibly agitated.  Soon enough, they plunged the full length of the knife right into Wonwoo’s gut, sticking it deep and long before kicking him off of it. Wonwoo lands on the hardwood, blood gushing out of him like a public water fountain. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You come by his side, clutching at his wound desperately. “No, no, no.”

The sinister figure approached once more, hand creeping against the edge before he pulled it over and off his head. His eyes stared back at you both maniacally. His grin stretched from both ends freakishly before overtaking in deep chuckles. “Happy to see me?”

“…C-Chan?” Wonwoo managed to gasp.

“Hi, bestie.” His signature smile, once warm and inviting, reflected horrifyingly as if out of a film, one with too much bloodshed and betrayal to imagine. “Well, didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”

“Chan, what the fuck?” You screeched. 

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Wonwoo voiced panic-stricken. “What, how?”

One foot over the other, Chan carried himself with conviction, ease, and the confidence of a man who slaughtered countless amounts of people. 

“You guys don't know how easy it is to fake my death. I was surprised by how incredibly stupid police officers are. Find a body that’s my height, my build, cut off their hands and arms to not get their fingerprints, singe their skin and face to the point of unrecognition, and plant them in your own home. I’m a fucking genius.”

“S-Seungkwan,” Wonwoo wept, his adam’s apple, “You actually—”

“It was beautiful. Masterful.”

“Why?” Wonwoo stammered. “Your best friend—“

“He was an imbecile. Weak. All bark and no bite. You will never understand how good it felt to stick the knife inside him and watch the blood burst off of him like a sprinkler. Like the knife going in and out of him surged power throughout my entire body. So, I kept doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. AND DOING IT.”

His smile. That violating smile.

You sobbed, covering Wonwoo’s wound with your hands. “Y-you monster.”

“This was all just fun for you?” Wonwoo bared his teeth. “You get your kicks from lying, deceiving, stabbing your friends? You think you’re some Billy Loomis?”

“Of course I have fun. I had lots of fun. We had so much fucking fun.”

“We?” Wonwoo repeated.

“What the fuck do you mean we?” You asked horrified.

Chan started to chuckle to himself, chest heaving exuberantly before he stood completely still. Dreadfully still. 

“Well, I'm not the one that killed Joshua, am I?”

A million guesses ran through Wonwoo’s brain. None made sense the more he thought about it. “Your Stu Macher? Seokmin…Seungcheol…?”

Your eyes turned to him fearful, before it melted into something else, something familiar. Something terrifying. “No…” your lips drew close to his ear. “Me…” 

Your hands squeezed around his wound, gripping, earning his moans of anguish, screaming at you to stop, before you retrieved the knife hidden behind your boot and drove it into his shoulder. Wonwoo let out the loudest scream he could ever muster, feeling the blade sharply cut his nerve whilst pain shot into his chest. He tapped his heel incessantly on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes, looking at you in disbelief, overcome with hurt.

“And he was a good fuck too until the knife I put through his back made him scream like a little bitch.”

You pulled out the knife from him, seeing how the pain he felt in his body only complimented the suffering pooling in his heart, his mind, his soul. His lips quivered in your direction, sucking in his breath. “Y/n…Why?”

You simply shrugged. “Why does anyone kill these days? They’re bored, daddy. Same reason why things can change in the bedroom, to spice things up. The flavor of life is murder now, darling.”

“You’re killing people.”

You drove the knife one more time into his thigh, savoring his scream of agony. “And we’re more alive than we ever have been,” you said, twisting the knife before pulling it out.

You walked toward Chan, helping him pull off his robe. “And so is our sex life.”

“So, Junhui, Soonyoung…Joshua, and even Seungkwan.” Wonwoo asked, catching his breath.

“Every. single. one,” You chuckled. “Draining their cum out of like having a second puberty until life is literally drained out of their bodies. What a bunch of pussy boys. So obsessed with sex, they didn’t see the knife coming their way.”

Your hand reached for the ottoman and pushed Chan there to be seated, underdressed in the black tank top and black jeans he hid underneath with his momentarily abandoned bloody knife at his side. You unbuckled his pants single-handedly, your knife still in your other hand. “And Chan just gets so fucking hard with all the bloodshed. Like a bloodthirsty animal.”

“You just look so fucking sexy with blood on your hands,” Chan moaned, “Touch me how I like it, baby.”

“Mmh, my pleasure.” Your hand used the blood covering it as a morbid form of lube, closing around the girth of his cock to squeeze and lightly stroking it from base to tip, softly thumbing over the small slit on top. 

His stomach flexed, bucking his hips in your direction as he bit down on his bottom lip, beaming like a child on Christmas. Horny for your touch, Chan couldn’t help but squirm in his seat, warning up to your touch. He was absolutely growing at a rapid pace. “Like that baby, like that.”

“That feel good, daddy? You like how the blood is covering your entire cock? Seokmin’s blood, Minghao’s blood, Seungcheol’s blood? Wonwoo’s blood?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“You two,” Wonwoo’s shock couldn’t stagger from the scene in front of him, unable to process all this information at once.

“You’re massaging our friends into my cock so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” You traced your fingers over the details of his shaft, your nails prodding at the veins as your hand slowly picked up pace. You rolled him in your fist, letting him rut in your defiled hand as he moaned your name like an animal in heat. “I’m getting so wet watching fuck in my hand covered in blood. You’re just a sick lunatic obsessed with killing your friends and fucking my sweet pussy. I love that about you, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he screamed, hands gripping the ottoman in restraint, brimming with passion, “Wanna mix Wonwoo’s cum you kept inside you with the blood. Sit that sweet pussy on my cock for me, lover.”

You nodded invitingly, not missing a beat. You never did replace the underwear from before, making it easy to remove your shorts and sliding him inside your warm walls, massaging his length as you rolled your hips against his. You held the knife you still had in a death grip, stabling against the reliability of Chan’s shoulders. You mumble his name pleased, arching your back as you grinded down on his lap. “Your cock feels so good covered in blood, daddy.” 

“Your pussy feels even better knowing how much fun you had stabbing Wonwoo for me.”

“Of course, daddy.” You turned to the body mutilated and defenseless on the ground, grinning as Wonwoo was forced to watch. “That look good, Daddy Wonwoo?” Your ass bounced purposely in Chan’s lap, the jiggle showing off the splatter of blood left from the handjob.

Everything in Wonwoo told him to look away but he couldn’t, like a train wreck or a car crash, he couldn’t part with the mess of a situation he was witnessing. He wasn't sure what this meant for him, mentally nor physically.

“You like watching Chan fuck me, Daddy? His bloody dirty cock fucking me like you did a hour ago, fucking me like a nasty little whore.”

He hissed through his teeth, right the strange feeling surging in his pain-stricken body, “Shut…the fuck up.”

You laughed obnoxiously. “You love it. You love being a little cuck, watching other guys fuck my pussy. As if you hadn’t peeped on me and Chan fucking when he wasn’t ‘dead’.”

“It’s not true, you bitch.” The twitch in his trousers told him otherwise.

“You’re such a liar a dirty, dirty liar like I’m a dirty, dirty fucking whore.” You groaned loudly taking Chan’s cock, bouncing against his lap as you felt him pulse around your walls.

“That’s right baby take my cock.” Chan’s hand came over your bare cheeks, striking them with his full palms while his hips jerked up your body. “Taking the murder fueled, hard fucking cock.”

“Daddy, your cock is making me so fucking wet, stretching my pussy the way you sliced open our friends,” You growled.

“Fuck you’re such a little succubus, baby. Bouncing on my cock, coating yourself in blood. And I’ll kill more and more for you. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yeah,” You began slowing your pace, drinking in his every word. “You’d do anything for me?”

“I’d kill the entire human population for you.”

That left you smiling from ear to ear, the tension coiling in your stomach. Your chest pressed against his, pushing against his thrusts. “Yeah? Would you cum in me, Daddy? Mix our dirty mess inside me. Let me take your cum, daddy.”

“I’ll let you drain me of every drop, my little psychopath.”

“Cum daddy cum, make me full and breed me with our homicidal baby daddy. Make you a real daddy.”

Chan shuddered, overwhelmed with immense arousal. His hips found life of their own, hammering into you at top speed, and watching the pleasure morph on your face and the staccato rhythm of your breath leave your lips, all while the load threatened to burst out of his sack. “I’m cumming, baby, all for you, ah—“ then it exploded inside you. His cum launched out of his cock like a hose, he painted your wall in milky white, turning pink as it seeped out of you.

“I’m so close, daddy…”

Chan threw his head back to catch his breath, hands possessively finding purchases on your hips. “That’s it, baby. cum for daddy.”

“I’m cuming daddy, I’m—“ You gripped your knife, taking Chan’s abandoned one before plunging both in his head. His smile dropped, a small and weak, “baby” leaving his sweet lips before spitting up blood on your chest and he fell limp. 

You didn’t stop, however, given the fact that your orgasm had just arrived the mere second Chan tasted metal in his mouth. Your moans could’ve been mistaken for anguish if not for the smile on your savage face. “I’m cumming all over your cock, Daddy, fuck! You’re so good to me, you do so much for me. I love you so much. Hitting my spot even in death.”

The wave of climax finally started to fade, unlike your smile, wretched and demonic. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Daddy. I’ll miss you so much.” You kissed deceased Chan’s lips, coming down from him, and fixing his pants before fixing his pants before pulling your shorts back on your body.

“Y/n…what the fuck?”

Watching you pull the knives out of Chan’s head, Wonwoo's expression was a mix of confusion and horror, struggling to back away as you approached him calmly, almost serenely.

“Chan has served his purpose,” You answered plainly as if obvious. “It was his time.”

“You did that, all that, with him, and you MURDER HIM? Your partner in sick, sick psychotic crime?”

“I told you spice was necessary, plus I’ve grown rather fond of you.” You bent down to his level, eyes noticeably just a deep pit of disparity. “I couldn’t let him kill you, so I beat him to it. Good thing too, because that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Wonwoo whimpered under your touch—well, the knife’s touch—as the tip of it dragged over his jaw, drawing out a shudder. “Y-you’re letting me live?”

Your smile. That damned smile. You and Chan were mere reflections of each other. How had he not seen this sick image sooner?

“As long as it's with me, because you love me right? That’s what you said. You’ll always love me and keep me alive. You promised.”

You pressed the blade against his neck, “You’re cold-blooded. Fucking your dead friend’s girlfriend, leaving your other friends to die to save me, and taking on a mass murderer just for me.” Your other hand caressed over his face. “That’s hard fucking core, baby. I love that so much. You really love and want me. Well, I want you just as bad.”

“Like you wanted Chan?”

You scoffed, using the knife to point at the abandoned soulless body on the ground. “Chan was disposable. He was already fucked up in the brain. I can nurture you, let you prove you’re that you’re mine and only mine. Then I’d have no reason to kill you. Not at all…say you’ll be with me forever.”

“…yes, sweetie. O-of course I will.”

You sighed a breath of relief, your harmless hand coming over to stroke over the stray hairs on his head. “That’s my daddy. My one and only. We can be the finals. Together. Only us—”

“Hello! Wonwoo! Y/n!” Miraculously, Seungcheol found their way to you, barely alive it sounds like.

Rage filled your eyes. “Holy fuck how is he still alive,” you mumbled under your breath. “I’ll take care of him.”

You held the knife to your side, standing by the door and away from its open view. “Cheol! In here! We caught the killer!”

Seungcheol managed to find the defaced door, peeking through the rubble to see a disheveled Wonwoo, panting and close to death. “Wonwoo!”

“Cheol…” Wonwoo grunted. 

“Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“To…your…right.”

You glared at Wonwoo, betrayal in your eyes before launching yourself at the hero, who hardly had a scratch on their body. Seungcheol, taking his friend's warning in consideration, built up a wall of defense. His eyes caught you just in time and held up your arms, pinning you against a wall. His eyes finally registered on your face, and his grip on you only tightened. “Y/n, you evil little bitch.”

You chuckled tauntingly, struggling against his weight and strength. “Hi, Cheol. I know you always wanted to stick something in me, mind letting me do it first?”

“You—wow, you’re actually mentally deranged.”

“You don’t like that? Maybe my knife through your skull can change your mind.”

He kicked you in the groin, having you plummet to your knees, cusses streaming out of you like a river. “You pussy. Ass. Bitch.”

“Seungcheol,” Wonwoo groaned, painfully cheering him on.

You managed to kick Seungcheol down in your distress, crawling on top of him to gain leverage. “I know you liked to be topped.”

You held the knife, hands wrapped tightly around the handle before striking. Meanwhile, Seungcheol’s hands were wrapped around your wrists, the tip of the knife tickling his nose. Sweat beaded against his forehead, struggling harder than he thought he would as you smiled still.

“This would be a lot sexier if you let me run my knife inside you, baby.”

“Fuck you and your demented punk ass,” he grunted.

“I would if you’d just FUCKING DIE!”

A gunshot follows soon after and the blood gushed from your neck, pouring from both ends and falling lifelessly against Seungcheol, who let out a shrill scream.

“I found a gun,” Seokmin proclaimed weakly from the door before fainting to the ground.

Seungcheol rolled your body off of him, sick to his stomach. “Sick crazy bitch.”

He looked towards his friend who remained helpless his entire journey before his eyes got caught on the dead body he only realized now. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo whispered.

“And they…”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, dude.”

Seungcheol went around to pick up Seokmin from the ground, grabbing the gun. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s eyes lingered over your body, in disbelief it was alive a mere second ago, then he saw something strange, causing his eyes to fly open. “Cheol behind you!”

Another gunshot. Right between your eyes and your body that stood for hardly a second longer than it should’ve—of course with the knife still in your hand—fell right back on the ground.

“They always come back,” Wonwoo quoted.

Seungcheol let out a deep exhale, loosening his grip around the gun. “And aim for the head.”

“Sorry about your house.”

“…sorry about your girlfriend.”

“Me too.”

post reading a/n: always like me to insert chan into anything fr. i have no excuses

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @smileysuh (felt fucked up not to tag you bc you’re fucked it just like me 💕)

#svthub #seventeen smut #horror au #seventeen #dino smut #wonwoo smut #lee chan smut #jeon wonwoo smut #dino x you #dino x reader #dino x y/n #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x you #seventeen fanfic #dino #seungcheol #wonwoo #minghao #seokmin #lee seokmin #choi seungcheol #xu minghao #lee chan #scoups #jeon wonwoo #lee chan x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x you #jeon wonwoo x y/n

[bibiundtinaundzombies]

au in which robert, the starks and the lannisters play monopoly instead of going hunting and pushing each other‘s kids from towers.

tyrion implements a tax system to make things more interesting and fights cersei over the cat for a solid ten minutes.

around thirty minutes into the game, catelyn realizes that she has free will and stops paying taxes.

arya and sansa haggle over new york avenue, which ends up being bought by theon. this causes the two to completely cast aside their differences, ally and subsequently start doing everything in their power to make theon‘s life hell.

theon himself is quite severely stoned the entire time throughout.

ned enters horrendous debt pretty much immediately and, after two hours of being financially sucked dry by both cersei and his tax evader of a wife, decides to just place his figurine in jail and never leave.

jon, playing the dog, controls the railroads and makes jaime, playing the ship, go completely broke within minutes. being beaten by a bastard and officially the first to lose the game makes jaime so mad he spends the rest of the evening perched on the family‘s ancestral armchair eating flaming hot cheetos and stifling sobs.

cersei is holding onto her last two dollars and her one house in atlantic avenue like a maniac and evades taxes like it‘s an olympic sport. she claims ownership of kentucky avenue on the grounds that red is her house‘s color at least twice. after three hours, she‘s consumed enough vintage red to kill a large mammal and keeps quoting the art of war. fascinatingly enough, she never goes completely broke.

robert, just as broke and drunk as his wife but not nearly as ferocious, proposes marriage for tax advantages to bran, who is in possession of the boardwalk and lets him dangle on his proposition for two rounds before accepting and feeling like a benevolent god.

sansa sees this and immediately proposes to arya, who accepts, only for them to be sued by their mother for public indecency („you‘re siblings, jesus christ!“). arya argues that this is just a game and that one could argue that robert‘s and bran‘s marital alliance is just as if not even more inappropriate, considering that bran is seven and robert thirtyseven. sansa countersues her mother for tax evasion, who promises she‘ll drop her lawsuit if her daughters let her keep hoarding perverse amounts of wealth. „love wins!“ arya says, which causes jaime, still perched on the armchair but now eating old nan‘s home made whiskey truffles, to hysterically sob. cersei stares him down.

robb, in a rare moment of almost prophetic foresight, excuses himself one hour in and goes on a very, VERY long walk with grey wind.

tyrion, whose tax system has spectacularly backfired in his face, proposes marriage to catelyn, jon and cersei in rapid succession, who all turn him down. „i wish i was the monster you think i am. i wish i had enough poison for the whole pack of you. i would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it.“ he screams before he leaves the table.

at that, joffrey, who has refused to participate and instead sits on the couch playing doom on his nintendo ds, starts hysterically laughing. tyrion turns on his heel and awards his nephew with the bitchslap of the century. this causes cersei to completely abandon the game and chase after him with a broom. catelyn makes sure that everyone is distracted by the lannister antics and then reaches across the table and bags cersei‘s money and properties.

with a heavy heart, myrcella trades arya and sansa one of her limited edition bayala schleich unicorns for park place.

at this point, the game is between the tycoons that are catelyn and jon, the bran-robert alliance, the arya-sansa-alliance, and ned, who is still in jail and watching ice hockey on his phone under the table. that is when catelyn hears rickon gagging and discovers that he, in the absence of tyrion, the self declared bank manager, has managed to eat all bank notes from the box.

rickon gets his stomach pumped, cersei and tyrion have both been arrested, theon is still stoned, arya, sansa and myrcella have wandered off to go play schleich horses, and jon remains at the table, alone, content, and quietly considering himself the winner.

#asoiaf #asoiaf au #asoiaf modern au #eddard stark #catelyn stark #ned x catelyn #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #tyrion lannister #robert baratheon #robb stark #jon snow #bran stark #arya stark #sansa stark #rickon stark #joffrey baratheon #myrcella baratheon #sorry for the tommen erasure :(

[starlightwritcr]

I can fix him, literally. (Android au!Sukuna)

(@poe-daydreams this is for you <3)

warning/s: Minors DNI, Smut, exhibitionism but not really? idk how to describe it, light degradation, use of "whore", Sukuna's two dicks

Imagine android!Sukuna used to be a popular fighter in an underground fighting ring. Key word: used to be. He went up against Jujutsu Technology's newest Gojo model, S4T0RU (or Satoru, as most fans call him), but suffered a humiliating defeat at his hands. This caused heavy damages on Sukuna which led to his owner throwing him out to the trash. After all, why keep the old model around when the latest model was far superior?

But you didn't believe in such. You were surprised to find a Sukuna model in the trash at the back of a dingy building. Who in their right mind would throw away a million dollar android in this economy?! You took the android in, seeing as how the previous clearly didn't want him.

It was a challenge to repair the Sukuna model but as someone who used to work for Jujutsu Technology, you were able to do it. His mind chip seemed to be working fine. It was just the external parts that suffered heavy damage, which should be easy enough to replace. All it took was ordering spare parts online and giving it a new coat of paint to match his original model's tattoos to make him look good as new!

When android!Sukuna's systems started operating again, he woke up from sleep mode and saw you. You explained that you fixed him up after finding him in the trash. There were still some tests to run, just to see if there would be any possible bug fixes needed.

In true Sukuna fashion, he wasn't very cooperative at first. This wasn't your first rodeo though and managed to convince him to do it so that it could be over with. It didn't come as a surprise to you that a fighter android would be aggressive. Plus, the Sukuna line was designed with that personality to elicit reactions from audiences when he trash talked his opponents. It was pretty much just how he was designed.

While running the tests on Sukuna, you decided to check his memory file to see what happened before he was thrown out. You saw how badly he got beaten by the S4T0RU model.

Perhaps it was a strange thing to do, but you empathised with the android. Getting abandoned and replaced would be painful for any regular human after all. Even if Sukuna was an android, it wasn't uncommon for androids to develop a capacity for human emotions. This tended to be the case for fast-learning androids.

So, you kept him around. Sukuna wasn't too pleased about it but it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. He was rough and brash at first, blowing a hole into your finances with how much fuel he needed to consume. He calls you soft for treating him like he's human.

But despite the difficulties, despite the insults, you couldn't bring yourself to abandon him. You'd be no better than the person that replaced him so easily. You taught him how to navigate human life, dealing with human emotions, all the essentials needed. Soon enough, you noticed a change in his behaviors. Sukuna hovered around you, never leaving your side. It was almost like he was attached to your hip.

In a way, Sukuna did what he was created to do. He became a bodyguard of sorts, protecting you from creepy dudes whenever you went out. His trash talking feature especially came in handy during gossip sessions where you just had to vent about a rude coworker.

android!Sukuna found a new purpose in you. It was odd going from being a fighter android basking in cheers from the audience to being a companion android protecting his owner like a guard dog. But perhaps this life was more meaningful than his previous one. He'll never admit that though. It's only through his actions that you understand how he felt.

Feeling your touch on his synthetic skin felt even more exhilarating than all the cheers from the audience he's received in his fighting career. Sukuna cursed at himself, realising that he's become whipped for you. He was lucky that it was you, the person who's never abandoned him.

Sometimes android!Sukuna can be pretty possessive. You worked with repairing other androids so deep down, there was a fear that you'd find another android you liked more and replaced him with it. Even if he knew you wouldn't, there was a lingering fear that was deeply rooted ever since he was abandoned.

The height of Sukuna's possessiveness came to its peak when you brought home a sex android from the S4T0RU line. Its previous owners had a really good time with it and accidentally damaged it. You were baffled by this, seeing as how Jujutsu Technology usually equipped its Gojo models with tough materials. They must've went really wild with it.

While repairing it, Sukuna pulled you close. He glared at the S4T0RU model that was in sleep mode. You gasped as his fingers slipped into your clothes, going up your thighs.

Your cries of pleasure echoed against the walls as Sukuna fucked you in front of the android. His hands held you tightly, keeping you in place while he drove his synthetic cocks into you.

"When did you get two dicks?!" "Shut up and take them, whore."

You felt your brain turning to mush while he rearranged your insides with his thick cocks. Sukuna smirked in satisfaction when he knew your attention was completely on him and not that android on your work desk.

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna smut

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Sins of the Family

Part 3 of Family and Pawns

Warnings: car accident, mention of death and grief, kidnapping, implied sexual assault, mention of suicide, suicidal thoughts, mention of past sexual assault, death, usage of a fire arm, angst with a happy ending, everyone needs a hug and no one is okay

Note: This is maybe the last story of this AU unless I get a request for another part.

Word Count: 10k (I don't want to talk about how long this)

“Cooper!” You shirked as the eldest Barton shot you with a water gun. It was an all out water war between you, Tommy, and Billy against the three Bartons plus Kate and Yelena. The twins thought it was unfair that the two Avengers were on the same time but the Black Widow has to remind them that they were enhanced, they did it so the teams would be more even. Speaking of your brother, Tommy ran behind Cooper and dumped a bucket of water on him. Before the eldest Barton could turn around, he was gone.

“Hey!” He whipped the water out of his eyes. “I thought we said no powers.” Tommy appeared next to you.

“That’s what you get for targeting our sister,” he held up his fist and you pumped it against his.

“Kids, lunch is ready.” Laura called out. You liked Iowa. It was quiet, peacefully, and the Bartons were welcoming. You sat next to Nate with a towel wrapped around your shoulders. Natasha warned you that the youngest Barton would probably be quiet, still processing the death of his father.

“So, what do you want to do after we eat?” You asked. He shrugged, biting into his hot dog. It was just you and the young boy at the table while everyone was pilling food onto their plate. “Can I tell you a secret?” You whispered to him. Nate slowly nodded his head. “It’s okay to be happy and still miss you.” You saw his little body tense up but he still refused to look at you. “It’s okay to be angry with him,” you continued. “And still love him.” A small whimper left his mouth and your heart broke for him. You wished you could take away all of his pain. You would take it all away if you could.

“It’s okay to be angry with Nat and be glad she’s alive because he is no longer here.” It was like the dame broke. You saw his body shake as quiet tear fell down his cheeks. You panicked, body frozen as he dropped his hot dog and climbed onto your lap. His face pushed against your damp shirt and you felt his tears. You glanced up and saw Laura, wide eyes and about to walk over to her emotionally distraught son but you held up her hand to stop her. “I’m going to pick up. Okay, buddy?” He tightened his grip on you. You stood up from the table, your towel fell to the ground, and you walked over to the swing that was handing from the tree.

This was what he needed. Someone to let himself cry without adding to their own grief. So you let him cry against you as you pushed yourself on the swing. “I’m sorry,” he said once his tears stopped. You forced him to look at you. There was snot running down his nose and his cheeks were blotchy.

“Hey, little man, it’s okay to cry. It’s okay for your feelings to be all over the place but we are here for you. Whatever you need,” he nodded and rested his head back on your chest.

“Does it get easier?” That was the million dollar question. You met an older lady while you took a walk during your lunch. She asked about your family not knowing the truth. While she learned about your parents, she told you about her late husband. You asked her the same question. She told you a metaphor that her therapist told her. Your grief was like a red button instead a box with a ball that rolled around. Since the grief was newer the ball would hit the button all the time, no matter what you were doing your grief was powerful. You felt it in everything you did.

Over time, the box got bigger and the grief stayed the same size but it wouldn’t hit the button all the time. You sighed, kissing the crown of his head. “Yeah,” you whispered. “It gets easier.”

*

“Remember,” Wanda said, glancing at you and the twins. “Billy, you need to bring in your permission slip. Tommy, we have to go to the mall and get you new shoes,” the twins nodded their heads. “And you have a meeting with the home school agency. Did you finish your essay?” You glanced over the book you were reading. The trip to Iowa was done and it was time to head back to reality which meant starting home school. The couple asked if you wanted to attend another school but the incident with Henry and Coach Griffo made you lose faith in the schooling system. Home school was the best option for you and they agreed.

“I finished it before we left for Iowa.”

“Atta girl,” Natasha winked at you from the driver’s seat.

“Nerd,” Tommy mumbled with a smile on his face. You rolled your eyes, bumping your shoulder against his.

“Dork,” you countered. You were an only child for the longest time it was such a nice change to mess with someone.

“Children,” Natasha warned but before she could continue her scolding. You heard the impact before you felt in. Instinct kicked in and you braced yourself for the impact, your body tensed with fear.

The collision was violent, the force of the impact threw you forward. You felt the searing pain shoot through your body. For a moment, everything seemed to spin, the world titled at an impossible angle. The sound of the twins screams echoed in your ears. Once the car settled, your vision was blurry but you saw Wanda and Natasha with their heads to the side. They weren’t moving. You tried to look at the twins but a sheering pain caused black spots to cover your vision. A soft whimper left your lips and the world went dark.

*

You heard a soft voice calling out to you. She was saying your name over and over again to urge you to wake up. You were so tired. It seemed easier to keep your eyes closed and sleep but the voice was persistent, a little annoying. It kept getting louder and louder until it was impossible to ignore. “Mama,” you gasped awake. Your chest was heaving, eyes darted around the foreign room. You groaned softly as the pain of the car accident caught up with you. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. Your hands were cuffed to metal chains that were attached to the wall. The room was four walls with two doors; one of them was boarded up with wood.

In the corner, you saw Tommy. His hands were free from restraint but a collar was around his neck. “Tommy,” you called out. “Tommy, wake up.” You said a bit louder. Still he laid still, on his stomach. “Come on. This isn’t funny wake up,” you pleaded, desperation oozing from each word. Finally, he groaned. “Oh thank you,” you said, your head leaning back against the wall.

“My head hurts,” he wined, rolling onto his back. It took a moment but he sat up quickly. “What happened?”

“We were in a car accident. I don’t know where we are,” he stumbled to his feet. “Easy,” but he ignored you, wrapped his hands around the chains, and pulled. They weren’t moving. “Tommy, stop. You are going to hurt yourself.” He shook his head.

“I can get you out,” he pulled at them again. “I can get us out and we can go home!” He fell to his butt with a huff. “What’s around your neck?”

“Probably the same thing around yours,” Tommy reached around his neck to touch the collar. You stood up and found out you could reach the mattress but not the door. You sat down and opened your arms, there was a sharp pain in your shoulder. Tommy took the opportunity to lay in your lap.

“They are going to find us,” he looked up at you. “Right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Or we’ll get out of here by our self.”

*

Natasha was barely listening to Sam as he spoke with local police and Yelena and Kate were looking at the car crash. Her eyes were on her wife and Billy as they sat on the back of an ambulance. The EMT was cleaning a cut on Billy’s head and his arm was in a sling to help his shoulder. Wanda seemed untouched but Natasha had a faint memory of her wife’s magic wrapping around the car before she blacked out. She wanted Helen to do a check up on him when they were done here. “Thank you officer,” Sam said. Natasha turned back into the conversation. “Are you sure you don’t want to get checked out?”

“I’m fine,” she wasn’t really. It was taken every fiber in her body to not lose it. Her daughter and son were taken right from underneath her nose. By focusing on the pain radiating through her body she wasn’t going to lose her cool. Her sister and Kate walked over to them. “What do we know?” She asked.

“It was one van that hit your car,” Kate handed her a tablet with a feed of the car accident. “Then two more vans showed up and took Y/n and Tommy.” Natasha watched as two men existed their car and ran to the back of the car to get you and Tommy. Why didn’t they take Billy?

“The plates were stolen but we are having Peter check out the original owners,” Yelena said, taking the tablet from Natasha. “We know this was planned. They never looked at the camera so we can’t run facial recognition..”

“So we have nothing on who took my kids.”

“We will find them, Nat,” Sam said. “You have my word but we need to get you, Wanda, and Billy back to the tower where it’s safe. We don’t know if they’ll come back,” that made Natasha’s blood run cold. She couldn’t let them take anyone else.

“Okay,” she said.

“Kate and I will drive you back,” Natasha nodded and walked over to the ambulance. Her body ached but she put on a smile as she got closer.

“Hey bud,” she whispered. “How are you?” Billy shrugged, not looking up at the Black Widow. Natasha frowned, looking at the witch. ‘He hasn’t spoken,’ Wanda’s voice echoed in her head. Natasha nodded. “We are gonna head to the tower with Auntie Lena and Aunt Kate, okay?” Billy nodded, jumping off the back and head over to his aunts. But the young boy didn’t reach out for comfort from his aunts. Instead, he walked right past them to the car. Natasha sighed, feeling her wife grab her hand.

“You haven’t gotten checked out, moya lyubov’ (my love),” Wanda said.

“I’m fine,” but she knew she couldn’t lie to Wanda as easily as she did with Sam. Wanda stopped walked. “Wanda-” Natasha pleaded.

“This is not your fault, okay?” Natasha looked at her sister. Yelena was leaning against the car, trying to get Billy to talk. “And I will remind you that at every step. We will find them and Billy will be okay,” Natasha surged forward capturing Wanda’s lips into a kiss. The kiss was frantic, messy as Natasha hung onto Wanda.

“I can’t lose you,” she whispered against Wanda’s lips.

“You won’t. I’m here. I’m right here.”

*

You let Tommy fall asleep, resting between your legs and you ran your fingers through his hair. You wanted to close your eyes and sleep but you couldn’t. What if when you closed your eyes and the door opened and they came in to take your brother? So you sat and replayed moments in your head. The first time you met the Romanoff-Maximoff family and the night the couple told you they wanted to adopt you. They were going to find you. Until then you had to be strong and protect Tommy.

Finally, you heard the door unlock and slowly open. The sound caused Tommy to stir awake but you kept your arms around him as 3 men walked in; two were carrying bowls. “Food,” the man up front said. He was Russian and the men behind him set the bowls near the mattress. But you both didn’t move. “You are going to need your strength.”

“What do you want with us?” You asked. He didn’t answer, instead he gestured to the man on his left and he walked over to you. He ribbed Tommy from your arms. “No!” You jumped to your feet but the man held your brother by his throat and put a gun to his temple. “Please don’t hurt him.” Tommy struggled against his capture but it made no difference.

“Let me make myself perfectly clear,” he stepped forward. “When I say you eat, you eat. When I say jump, you ask how high. Your brother’s life is my hands, do you understand my malen’kaya ten’ (little shadow)?” You glanced at Tommy.

“I understand,” the man holding your brother threw him to the ground. Before you could help, the man grabbed onto your chin to force you to look at him.

“He is collateral,” he said. “I won’t hesitate to kill him if you disobey me.” You nodded and he let you go. You ran over to Tommy and he assured you he was okay as the three men left.

“Do you know them?” He asked. You shook your head. You didn’t, you’ve never seen those men in your life.

“But he definitely knew me,” you sat back on the mattress with the bowl. It was a soup of some kind.

“He called you little shadow,” he said, sitting next to you with his bowl in his lap. Little shadow. Your spoon stopped in mid air. You hadn’t thought about that nickname in months since Jason was killed. “Do you want this?” He asked, holding up his bowl. “I don’t like it.” You laughed at the scrunch of his nose.

“Eat it,” you said, taking a spoonful of your own. It wasn’t bad just bland compared to Wanda’s flavorful cooking. “I think he’s right when he said we’ll need our strength.”

*

Wanda hated this. This intense feeling of worthlessness as she had no idea where her son and daughter were or who took them. She couldn’t even help her other son who hasn’t spoken or eaten since the accident. He was shutting her out and that scared her even more. “But why not take all three of your kids?” Maria asked. The available Avengers met at the tower to come together to find you and Tommy. They were in the conference room while Pepper and Happy watched Billy and Morgan. She hated being away from him but he didn’t need to be here for this. “If they want to hurt you, why did they just take Y/n and Tommy?” It was a good question and one Wanda couldn’t answer. Natasha and her made a lot of enemies throughout their time as Avengers. The list was long.

“Maybe it’s not about us,” Natasha said, picking at the skin around her thumb. Wanda grabbed her hand to stop her. “Have we found anything about Jason?” Tony pulled up the hologram of the man that took advantage of you. The sight still made Wanda’s blood boil.

There wasn’t much they knew about the man that could help them. Only child, whose parents divorced when he was a kid, and his father was in and out of rehab facilities. He was in extreme debt and unemployed. At his last job, he suffered a shoulder injury which allowed him to cash in disability checks.

“What about her parents?” Yelena asked. “Jason must have known them. There was no way them meeting was a coincidence,” she had a good point. Tony put up two holograms of your parents. You rarely spoke about them. Maybe it hurt to much to think about them. Your parents were Daniel and Harper. In 2018, two months after Thanos exterminated half of all living things. Harper was diagnosed with cancer. It seemed so unfair how much pain your family was subjected to in a short amount of time. Your mother was a house keeper while your father worked in construction. They were living pay check to paycheck since Harper was out of work while she received treatment from a Dr. Joshua Harris. Unfortunately, Harper’s treatment wasn’t successful. She passed away. Your father took his own life two months after his wife passed. In three years, you would return and your parents were gone.

“We are missing something,” Natasha stood up suddenly. “If they were being blackmailed or were involved in something there wouldn’t be a paper trail.”

“Nat is right,” Sam said. “Yelena, Kate go talk to Harper‘s doctor maybe he can tell us something.” The duo stood up to leave the room, Yelena squeezed Natasha’s shoulder before they left. “Peter, Maria, and Bucky will try to find an angel on ().” A plan was made. It wasn’t a lot but it was something. Natasha and Wanda left to go find Billy. He was laying on the couch, watching Morgan play with her dolls.

“Hey,” Wanda said, sitting down next to him. “Have you eaten anything?” He shook his head.

“Why don’t I make some mac and cheese?” Natasha suggested. Billy brightened up slightly.

“And a hot dog,” The Black Widow smiled.

“Anything for you, bud,” she walked into the kitchen.

“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?” Helen gave all three of them a clean bill of health besides the normal ache and pains. Bill frowned, moving to rest his head on her lap. “Talk to me, dorogoy (sweetheart). Please.” She ran her fingers through his hair.

“I can’t feel them, mam,” he whispered. “I keep trying but I don’t know where they are. I-,” his voice cracked. “That’s what hurts mama. I want them home.” Wanda saw the signs of Billy’s powers getting out of control. They were similar in that sense when their emotions got overwhelming their powers were unpredictable. It was a work in process to help him contain it. The witch forced Billy to sit up and moved him so he sat on her lap, his chest against hers.

“Breath, Billy. I need you to breath.”

“I can’t,” he gasped and his hands twisted in the fabric of Wanda’s shirt.

“Yes, you can,” Wanda kept her voice soft. She watched Natasha walk over with the plate of food. She almost dropped it at the state of Billy was in. “Your mom and I got you,” Wanda held out her hand for Natasha to grab. She put the food down and took her hand. Gently, Wanda placed Natasha’s hand on their son’s back and traced soothing circles. “Just focus on us.” Wanda began to hum, a simple lullaby she would sign to them when they were babies. It seemed to work. She felt Billy slump against her and his breathing calmed down.

“You are doing so good, bud.” Natasha said, locking eyes with Wanda. If there was one thing Wanda loved about Natasha it was her eyes. They were so expressive. Even when her face was so stoic, her eyes gave away so much.

“It’s okay,” Wanda smiled. “Everything is going to be okay.” She said it for all three of them. Everything was going to be okay.

*

When the door opened again, you and Tommy were playing Concentration. It was the same man from before. He walked over to you, twirling a key in his hand. He grabbed onto your hands and unlocked the cuffs. “Come with me,” you rubbed at your wrists. “Both of you.” You stood up and the two men grabbed Tommy. “You can call me, Dmitri, okay?” He put his arm around your shoulder as the two men walked out of the room. “We had a mutual friend. Do you know who?” Outside the room, you call tell you were in an abounded hospital. Empty beds with rusted frames sat against the peeling walls, the mattresses long gone or decayed. The air was heavy with the scent of dust and decay. The doors that weren’t locked shut were hanging off the hinges. Your small group weren’t the only ones in the hallway but the ignored you, focused on their task of cleaning.

At the nurse station, the desk was covered in a thick layer of dust, and the files lie scattered and forgotten. Some of the signs still hung on the wall but were faded, their messages no longer conveyed a feeling of hope.

“Jason,” you finally replied.

“Oh she is smart,” he teased. “He was a good man, more loyal to his cock then the cause,” he squeezed your shoulder and the soup you ate turned in your stomach. They brought you into a room. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the hospital. The room was well kept with multiple screens and a generator in the corner. There were weapons scattered against the tables set up. It was eerily silent besides a man typing away at the computer. Your brother was forced into a chair and metal restraints were put on his legs and arms. “Are you ready for your mission, malen’kaya ten’?” You glanced at Tommy.

“I am,” you whispered. Dmitri handed you a tactical suit, similar to the one you’ve seen Natasha ware.

“Change into this,” you took it from him and hesitated. “Change now.” Your hands shook as you took off the clothes you decided to wear on the trip home from the Bartons, simple tracksuit that Kate bought for you. You weren’t blind to the way Dmitri’s eyes racked up and down your body. His footsteps moved behind you and he grabbed the zipper and zipped it up. His hands landed on your shoulders. “Good girl,” Dmitri whispered the name as if it was a secret for only you and him. The name caused your stomach to turn. “This is for you,” it was a com and you put it in your ear. “You and I are going for a little ride and you will listen to every word I say,” he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at Tommy. The sudden movement caused you to stumble into him and his free arm wrapped around your waist, trapping you from moving. “If you don’t your baby brother’s brains will be splattered all over that wall.”

“I understand,” you said. “Can I give him a hug?” He thought about it.

“Make it quick. I’m not a monster,” You walked over to Tommy and hugged him tight.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you whispered.

“Same to you,” you kissed the top of his head and walked over to the man. He said he wasn’t a monster but that was up for some debate. Delete Created with Sketch.

“Where are we going?” You asked. He blindfolded you the minute he lead you out of the building. Being in the backseat of a car was nauseating as you tried to make sense of the turns but it was impossible.

“We are almost there,” your leg began to shake but you felt his hand on your thigh. Automatically your body tensed up. “It’s okay, malen’kaya ten’, I won’t hurt you.”

“You see why I find it hard to believe,” you said. “I thought Jason wasn’t going to hurt me and we both know how that ended.” He removed his hand and your body relaxed.

“We’re here,” the car stopped and blindfold was removed from your eyes. The sun caused you to wince and it took a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harsh light. “We are at the office of Dr. Harris,” you didn’t recognize the name. “You are going to sneak into his office and place this listening device somewhere he won’t find it,” you took the device from him. “Then you will use this on his computer and it will copy all of the files, it will take 15 seconds.”

“How do you expect me to sneak in with this stupid collar on?” You asked. He pulled out a key and took it off. A weight that was on your chest was lifted off. He put a small camera on your chest.

“Remember what I have,” you sighed.

“I do,” you fazed through the car. You kept your powers on as you walked over to the office and walked through the door. You stood in a small entry way with a door in front of you and on your right. A metal sign displayed each specialties the office offered. Dr. Harris’ office was through the door in front of you and he was a medical oncologist. You frowned, ignored the tight knot that formed in your stomach, and moved onto the next door.

It was a simple waiting room, there was a few patients in the chairs. the receptionist was speaking with a young woman through the glass that separated them. The patient had a beanie that covered her head. It was no use to stay and listen to the conversation that was happening so you moved past the nurse that opened the door to call the next patient.

Lucky, there was signs that pointed you in the right direction. However, your feet stopped when you passed a large open area. There was a nurse station on one wall and spread across the room were chairs; some empty. But the people that were in those chairs were attached to IVs. Curiously, you walked towards the nurse station and read the pamphlets they had out. 20 different recipes to eat try during Chemotherapy. What is radiation? How to overcome it? You were in a cancer center.

‘Ah,’ Dmitri said. ‘I forgot you weren’t around to see your mommy sub come to the horrible disease,’ When you were younger, your parents saved enough money to take you to Cooney Island. All the kids at school talked about riding a roller coaster and how cool it was. So you were anxious to go on it. You were nervous and your parents kept saying you did not have to go on it. That no matter what you were their brave girl. You went on it and hated every second of it. The way your stomach dropped at each turn made you sick. You were experiencing that same feeling now. ‘Continue, my little shadow,’ he said. ‘His office is down the hall.’ You nodded and walked that way. The sooner you were done, the faster you could be back with Tommy, safe in the 4 wall cell. Safe wasn’t the correct word you would use but it was better than be separated. You fazed through the doctor’s door. He was sitting at his desk, typing away at his computer. Bookshelf’s were behind him, decorated with pictures of different families. ‘You are gonna have to get him to leave.’ You rolled your eyes. Easier said then done, you thought, how the hell were you going to do that?

As if someone heard your prayer a knock came to the doctor’s door. “Come in,” you moved to the corner as the door opened and the receptionist you saw enter.

“Two Avengers are here to speak with your,” you froze and stomach flipped. Avengers. Two Avengers were here. Your family. ‘Don’t,’ the man hissed in your ear. ‘Don’t forget what I have.’ Oh you didn’t but maybe you could get their attention.

“Of course, please send them right in,” the doctor stood up and straightened the white coat he was wearing. The door opened wider as Kate and Yelena walked in.

“Dr. Harris,” Kate said, extending her hand for the doctor to take. “Kate Bishop and this is Yelena Belova. Thank you for meeting us.” The doctor shook her hand. He went to shake Yelena’s but the blonde refused and sat down in the chair.

“Of course. Anything I can do to help the Avengers,” he sat down and kept his eyes mostly on Kate. You could tell he was intimidate by the Black Widow. You had to stop yourself from laughing. You moved to the window ledge and leaned against it. “What is this about?”

“A former patient of yours,” Kate said. “Does the name Harper Myers ring a bell?” That was your mom’s name. Your stomach dropped. It had been a long time since you’ve heard someone say it.

“The Myers,” he spun around in his chair to look at his wall of pictures. He stood up to grab a frame and looked it over before handing it over to Kate with a sad smile. “They were lovely people,” you walked over to the couple as Kate handed the photo to Yelena. “They had a daughter that I never got to meet her.” You looked at the picture over Yelena’s shoulder. It was a picture of your mom, dad, and you as a baby. They took you o a local mall to see Santa Claus. You were crying, not very happy that a stranger was holding you. Yelena handed the photo back to the doctor but turned to look over her shoulder. Her eyes bore into yours and you held your breath.

“Can you tell us about the Myers?” Kate asked. Yelena turned around slowly. You let out a shaky breath and walked back to the widows. ‘You are toeing a dangerous line,’ Dmitri hissed in your ear.

“The Myers were hardworking people. Harper was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer in 2018. It was a miracle she survived as long as she did.” You clenched your jaw and crossed your arms, hugging yourself for some sort of comfort.

“Did you notice any abnormal behavior?” Kate asked. “Besides the obvious going through a cancer diagnosis.” The doctor leaned forward, resting his hands on his chin.

“I take patient confidentiality very seriously,” he said. “Even after death, they are entitled to the same level of respect. So I will ask again, what is this about?”

“Their daughter was kidnapped,” it was the first time Yelena has spoken. “We are searching every possible option to find her.” You watched the doctor’s face pale.

“Is this about the money?” The couple glanced at each other.

“What money?” The doctor sighed and pulled open a drawer. It took him a moment to find what he was looking for. Soon he handed the couple a folder.

“They were struggling financially to cover the cost of the treatment,” you stayed still not wanting to alert Yelena again. “Daniel’s job offered insurance but it barely covered the cost of the treatment plan Harper would need. Out billing department told them they then they came to me and refused treatment. I pleaded with them to reconsider, that I would help them find a way to pay for it. But they refused,” he sighed. Kate placed the file back on his desk.

“But they got the money?” She questioned. The doctor nodded.

“They came back two days later and said they liked to continue with the treatment. I believe Daniel said they got the money from his sister who passed away.” You frowned. Your dad was an only child.

“Did not find that suspicious?” The blonde asked.

“Of course I did but my job is try to save patients lives. I find the monetary part of my job pointless. If I could give treatment to everyone free of charge then I would.”

“Thank you for your time doctor,” Kate said. “Can you show us to your billing department?” Dr. Harris stood up without a word and walked to the door. The couple followed him but Yelena hesitated and looked towards you. “Sweetheart,” the archer said. “Are you okay?” Yelena nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just,” you know I’m here, you thought, I’m here. I’m here. “It’s nothing.” The Black Widow grabbed her hand. Once they left, Dr. Harris closed the door.

‘Hurry up,’ Dmitri said. You walked over his desk and placed the flash drive into the tower. You watched as a loading boar appeared on the screen and began to count up.

“What are you doing?” You asked. The man laughed.

‘We found you through the lovely doctor,’ he said. ‘Can you imagine who else we can have? Especially when hundreds of families are as desperate as yours were.’ The bar was full and you pulled the flash drive out. ‘You did well,’ he said as you walked through the doctor’s door. ‘I’m impressed with your level of submission,’ he chuckled. ‘I thought you’d fight more.’

You wanted to fight. You wanted to kick and scream and go home but how could you. You were tied down to Dmitri as he held your brother over your head. You moved through the front door but stopped.

“We could follow the money,” Kate said. “Have FRIDAY trace the account.” The Black Widow nodded. “Hey, what’s wrong? You’ve been off.” Yelena sighed.

“We are no closer to finding her,” she admitted. “I’m worried.” Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. There was a part of you that feared they would hear it.

‘Move,’ he ordered but you couldn’t. ‘I will kill him.’ He would. You knew he could but your feet felt glued to the spot. ‘One more chance or your brother’s brains will be all over the wall.’

“We will bring her home,” Kate smiled. “Then we’ll never let her go.” They made the choice for you as the couple walked over to where their car was parked. You sighed, finally walking over to the van. The door opened and you materialized as he grabbed you and pulled in. He pinned you to the opposite door, hand loosely around your neck. You felt his breath on your face. “Do you need to be taught a lesson?” The pressure of his hand tightened on your throat. It was getting harder to get air through your lungs.

“No,” you whispered. “No, sir. It won’t happen again.” You were transported back to whenever Jason was upset with you. You took the flash drive out of your pocket. “I did what you wanted,” you reminded him. His eyes flickered to yours and the flash drive. The pressure let up and you sucked in air. He tightened the collar back around your neck and took the flash drive from you. Before he pulled away from you, he kissed your cheek and whispered, “Good girl,” in your ear.

You felt sick, bile creeping up your throat as the car began to drive. It didn’t take long until you were blindfolded again and your leg started to shake.

*

“That’s all we get out of him,” Kate said, ending their debrief on what they found out about the doctor. It wasn’t a lot but Natasha was certain they found you and your family through the doctor. Sam must have agreed as the direction of the conversation shifted to find the link. But the Black Widow wasn’t listening even though it was important. Her attention was on her sister, who was abnormally quiet. She let Kate do a majority of the talking, adding a comment here or there. Now she was quiet, resting her hand on her chin. When the meeting was over, Yelena left quickly. “Hey,” Natasha called out to her. “What’s going on?” Yelena slowed down, allowing her to catch up.

“Something didn’t feel right while we were there,” Yelena said, glancing at her sister. “It was like,” she paused and Natasha allowed her the time to process her thoughts. “Like we were being watched.”

“Were they there?” Did the people who had you and Tommy know they would check there? Yelena sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

“Maybe I don’t know,” With your and Tommy’s enhancements, you were a deadly combination. “It doesn’t hurt to scrub through security footage to find out.”

*

You heard your name being called out and your eyes fluttered open. Dmitri was back. For the first time, he was alone. His guard dogs weren’t insight. “How did you sleep?” He asked, handing you and Tommy a bowl of the same food you ate earlier.

“Well considering the circumstances,” you said, taking a bite. It tasted better than before. “What do we owe the pleasure?” He sat down in front of you, legs crossed and elbows resting on his knees.

“Your sister is pretty incredible,” he said to Tommy. Your brother leaned into your side. “She’s very protective over you, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Tommy whispered. The man smiled.

“What do you want?” You asked again.

“All will be explained but first eat,” you and Tommy both did as he asked and when your bowls were empty, you placed them down and he offered you his hand. Hesitantly, you took it and he pulled you to your feet. Unlike before he put his arm around Tommy and the 3 of you walked down the hallway. His hand was on your waist, a possessive grip that you couldn’t break away. When you entered the room before, his guard dogs were next to the chair. You changed into the suit, put the com in your ear, and hugged Tommy tight.

This time when you were brought to the car, there was no blind fold. Did he see your submissiveness as loyalty? You weren’t sure but the grip he had on you moved to your thigh instead of your hip. It was night but you couldn’t track the turns and stops with his hand on you. “Where are we going?” You finally asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Just relax,” he put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him. “Why are you so tense?” He asked. “Is this not okay?”

“It’s fine,” you tried to relax but your skin felt like it was burning. You let out a shaky breath and placed your arm on his thigh.

“You and I are going to do amazing things,” he said and tried to fight the shiver that ran down your spine.

“I don’t even know what your goal is,” he chuckled, resting his head on top of yours.

“Perform well tonight and I’ll tell you everything.”

The van stopped a block away from a warehouse. “There are 4 guards,” he showed you a security footage of instead the warehouse on a tablet. “I need you to go inside, disable and erase the security footage, kill the guards, and open the doors for our team.”

“Kill,” you whispered. The other things you could muddle through. But killing innocent people, you weren’t sure if you could do that. He handed you a pistol with a silencer. “I don’t kill people.” Each word you spoke shook with your nerves.

“You killed Jason,” that was true but that was out of self-defense. If you didn’t kill him, he was going to kill you. “It’s rather simple,” he maneuvered your hand to attach the gun to your hip. “But the gun to their heads,” he used his finger to lift your head. Your eyes locked onto his. “And blow their brains out. Simple.” There was nothing simple about it. “Are you ready?” You weren’t. All the color drained from your face. Could he hear how fast your heart was beating? “I asked if you were ready, my little shadow.” His face was in the crock of your neck. You felt the vibration of his words against your skin, causing your hairs to stand up. You weren’t ready. But if you failed or disobeyed what would happen? Would they go after Billy? Or maybe Nathaniel? Lila? Or Cooper? You couldn’t risk the safety of your family. His lips grazed your pulse. You nodded, licking your lips.

“I’m ready.”

*

“It’s the same van,” Natasha said to the Avengers with screenshots of traffic footage behind her. It took her, Yelena, and Kate hours to scrub through the footage. At first they found nothing but soon they noticed a black van, always changing license plates and they could never see the driver. They were good which worried Natasha. They weren’t amateur kidnappers. They were professionals but they made a mistake, well 2 mistakes. “The color of the van looks black but it isn’t. The color is sable and only 2 car shops in the city carry that color.”

“We pulled the records of those names and almost reached a dead end but Yelena found our connection,” the blonde smiled and changed the screen to a single white patch.

“What is that?” Maria asked.

“It’s a nicotine patch to help people quit smoking. A majority of them can be bought over the counter but others require a prescription,” Yelena explained. “We cross listed the list from the detail shops with those who have a prescription and he found,” the screen changed again to a man. “A Lucas Bennett.”

“Mr. Bennett has a history of gambling and drinking away his money but he also visited Dr. Harris.”

“Where is he now?” Sam questioned.

“FRIDAY is already pulling up current employers and addresses. It’s just a waiting game,” Natasha said, looking at Wanda. Her hand rested on her chin. “We find him he will lead us to Tommy and Y/n.” She said it convince Wanda and herself. They were so close to finding her other kids.

“Miss. Romanoff, I’ve located Mr. Bennett.” She looked at Sam.

“FRIDAY send us the location,” he said. “Avengers Assemble.”

*

You hated this. Your palms were sweat as you held the pistol. On quiet feet you walked through the warehouse to the first guard. A mantra echoed in your head and you were surprised it was Yelena’s voice- ‘I know exactly who you are. A hero. A protector. A sister.’ At this very moment, you didn’t feel like any of those things. A hero wouldn’t kill innocent men just doing their job. A protector would stand up to Dmitri and find a way to save Tommy. No, you were weak. A spineless fool. You put the barrel of the gun against the guard’s head, closed your eyes, and pulled the trigger. ‘Very good. One down,’ you opened your eyes and stared at the body at your feet. A pool of blood formed around his head. ‘Three more to go.’ You let out a shaky breath and tears formed at the corner of your eyes but you moved on, a job needed to be done.

When you lived with Jason, you were prone to dissociating. It allowed your mind to be protected while he raped you. You found yourself doing it now as if your mind was gone and your body moved on auto pilot. The two guards went down easily, their blood pooled on the floor and splattered on the wall they stood next to. In your ear, Dmitri praised you. Every time he called you ‘his good girl’ the little food in your stomach turn. ‘3 down, one to go.’ he said. ‘Good girl.’

You wanted to rip the com out of your ear, stomp on it. You wanted to go back in time and save those three men you murdered. To go back and stop the car accident but you couldn’t. So with the last guard that stood by the security office, you placed the barrel to the back of his head and pulled the rigger. His body slumped to the ground.

A few weeks ago, you woke up at three in the morning. With your throat dry and you were in desperate need of some water but the water bottle you had was empty. Kicking off the blankets, you braced the cold air of the house and headed to the kitchen. You expected it to be empty so you could fill your water bottle up and quickly go back to sleep. It wasn’t. Natasha was sitting at the kitchen counter and she appeared to be crying? Her sobs were muffled due to her hand being over her mouth but you saw her body shake. You remained frozen, not used to the scene in front of you. The normal level headed Black Widow was sobbing in the kitchen and were lost on what to do.

‘Mom,’ you made your presence known. She was startled, apologized, and asked if she woke you up. Instead of answering, you walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. You felt her body tense up but soon relaxed into you and cried. It could have been hours or maybe minutes but you held onto her tightly. Soon she pulled away and apologized again but you told her it was okay to cry. It was okay to not be strong all the time.

Instead of getting water, hot chocolate was made and you sat with her on the kitchen floor. You talked about everything.- her time in the Red Room, the red on her ledger, and the guilt she felt which lead her to working with SHIELD and the Avengers. Wanda found you and Natasha on the couch fast asleep the following morning.

But the conversation stuck with you and you found yourself thinking about it now while you stared at the body on the ground. There was more on your ledger. After all these years, Natasha was still trying to forgive herself. How long was it going to take you?

‘Hurry along.’ You nodded and fazed through the door to the security office. You plugged in the flash drive and watched the security footage delete, the alarm system turn off, and the metal garage door open. On cue, black vans entered the warehouse and men you didn’t recognize began to open the wooden boxes with crowbars.

“What are they looking for?” You asked, stepping out of the office. They paid no mind to you and continued on their work. You walked over to one of the men. Once the wooden box was open, he pulled out of a brief case. He placed a piece of tape over the finger print scanner and he opened it when it beeped.

“They are here, sir,” the man to Dmitri over his own com.

‘Perfect,’ you heard the smile in his voice. ‘My little shadow you did it!’ He was so proud of you but it filled you with fear. ‘Those pills are psylock. They enhance neural pathways to allow for manipulation,’ each word he spoke, sent a shiver down your spine. ‘Now we don’t also have to take baby brothers has collateral. Everyone will be good obedient soldiers,’ the world around you seem to blur.

“What are you planning?” You questioned. “Why are you building an army?” He scuffed.

‘The world is dirty A filthy, disgusting place so it needs to be rebuilt. You’ve seen the horrors of it. Together we can make it better,’ you had to stop yourself from laughing. This man wanted to make the world better when he was part of the problem. He contributed to the darkness. He was a monster not a savior.

Shooting pulled you out of your thoughts. You gripped the gun in your hand tighter as gun shots bounced off the walls. ‘Run back to me,’ Dmitri said but your feet remained frozen to the ground. You heard them. The voices of the Avengers. ‘Now!’ Still your hesitated when you locked eyes with familiar green ones.

“Mom,” you whispered. They found you. The relief was evident on her face but her eyes asked a question - where is your brother? You smiled, dropped the gun, and ran back to your capture. Ignoring the shouts of your name.

*

Natasha was losing her patience as she grabbed Lucas by the shoulder and throw him into an office chair. He was supporting a gun shot and she knew that wasn’t the only injury he was going to have tonight. “Let’s be honest with one another, okay?” She smiled, feeling her wife’s eyes on her back. The other Avengers were dealing with the other goons. Sam allowed Natasha, Yelena, and Wanda 10 minutes alone with him. “I really want to kill you but I can’t because you have something I need. So answer my one simple question. Where are my kids?” He laughed.

“Go to hell,” the Black Widow’s smile didn’t falter.

“Mr. Bennett,” she dug her finger into the gun shot and he let out a muffled scream, biting down on his lip. “I’m the easy way,” she moved behind him and forced his head to look at Wanda. “Do you see that beautiful woman over there? I get the pleasure to call her my wife and you do want her to find the answers by force.”

“I’m not scared of her,” he spat out.

“I would be,” Yelena mumbled.

“Moya lyubov’ (My love),” Natasha looked at the witch. “Let me talk to him.” She let go of his face and walked over to Wanda. With the hand not covered in his blood, the Black Widow put her hand on the back of Wanda’s neck.

“Find only them, little witch,” she whispered.

“I wont kill him,” her lips twitched and each words was laced with her deep accent. “He will wish for death.” Natasha gently kissed her forehead and let her go.

“I told you,” Yelena said as Wanda’s fingers glowed red. Natasha smirked as her fingers touched his head and he began to scream.

*

“How did they find you?” He asked with his hand tightly wrapped in your hair as he dragged you into a room you’ve never been in. Hew threw you onto the bed and you scrambled to sit up.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. The man paced in front of you. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me.” H wasn’t acknowledging you to lost in his thoughts. “Please,” you whispered. “Please don’t hurt him.” That stopped him and he faced you. You climbed to the opposite side of the bed, until your back hit the wall. You hated the look in his head. It was a look you’ve seen before. In Jason’s eyes. In every male that looked at you as if you were a toy, a piece of meat for them to taste.

“Strip for me,” he said, removing his tip and setting a pistol on the bed side table.

“I’m sorry?” You questioned even though you fully understood what he said. He chuckled.

“I am getting tired of having to repeat myself,” he rolled up the sleeves to his elbows. “I said strip.”

*

“We found Tommy,” Yelena said through Natasha’s com as they ran through the hallway of the abandoned hospital. “He’s safe minus a bruise on his face.”

“Copy that,” Wanda answered. “We are still searching for Y/n.” They came to a intersection. “I’ll go left and you go right.” Natasha hated the idea of splitting up but they needed to cover more ground.

“Okay,” she squeezed Wanda’s hand. “Be safe and let’s bring our girl home.” The witch squeezed her hand back and took off. The Black Widow let out a shaky breath and ran right. As she ran through the empty corridors, her mind kept turning into a darker place. The emptiness and coldness of it all reminded her of the Red Room. Endless hours she was shuffled through those halls; going to training or the ballet bar or back to her room. Now two of her children have been subjected to the same darkness. The sound of gun shots sent her heart in a panic and pulled her out of her thoughts. Another shot. Followed by another. She swung open the door with her gun drawn but her form faltered when she saw you; wearing only underwear, blood splattered across your face, and a gun in your hand. You pointed the gun at Natasha.

“M-mom,” you whispered. Your eyes were frantic, wide, and scared. Natasha holstered her gun.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she held up your hands when you didn’t lower the gun. “It’s me. It’s your mom.” Delete Created with Sketch.

You had to be dreaming, right? There was no way Natasha was standing in front of you. He had to have drugged you. “Can you put the gun down for me?” She asked, taking a step closer to you.

“Stop, don’t come any closer,” your hand shook but the Black Widow stopped walking towards you.

“I’ll stay right here but I need you to put that gun down.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. Didn’t she understand. You had to protect yourself from her and the men in his organization. “What if they come back for me?” Natasha shook her head.

“They won’t,” she said. “I’m here and you are safe.”

“Safe?” You questioned with a bitter laugh. “Why does this keep happening to me?” You asked, hitting yourself on the chest with your free hand. “Why do people keep using me? I can’t-” your voice cracked. Your throat began to burn as you tried to keep the tears at bay. “I can feel his hands on me. His breath on my neck. Why does this keep happening?” You pleaded with her to have an answer.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Sometimes the world is a dark and evil place and you’ve been subjected to a lot of it.”

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair.” You readjusted your grip on the gun. “I can’t do this answer.” You put the barrel of the gun to your temple.

“Sweetheart,” Natasha took a few steps forward but you backed away from her. “You have every right to be angry and upset with how the world as treated you but I promise you whatever happens next I will be there. By yourself or at your back. Just please,” her own voice shook. “Put the gun down and we can go home.”

“Home?” You questioned. You heard footsteps rushing towards the open door and you pointed the gun. It was Wanda. “M-mama,” you whispered.

“Hi, my sweet girl.”She smiled.

“I c-can’t go home,” you said. “I killed those guards and stool information from a doctor. I’m - I’m,” your heart was pounding against your ribs. It was hard for you to get air into your lungs. You put the gun back to your temple.

“You did those things to keep yourself and Tommy safe,” Wanda said. Her voice was strong and steady. “We or the others won’t think of you any differently.”

“Tommy,” you said. “Is he safe?” Natasha nodded.

“He is. He’s with Yelena and waiting for you,” this time when your mom stepped forward you didn’t move. “So is Billy and Kate and Morgan. Just please put the gun down and we can go home.” Home? Home was where you were safe and loved by those around you. You could laugh and joke with your brothers. Play board games at the dining room table. Your hand shook as you set the gun down. It was hard to keep yourself standing and before your knees hit the ground, strong arms caught you. You buried your face into Natasha’s neck and sobbed. Your body shook from the intensities of your cries. Your tears wouldn’t stop. You felt Wanda’s magic enter your mind and every thought, memory went away and you welcomed the darkness.

*

When you came too, you were laying in one of the medical rooms at the tower. You were sandwiched between Billy and Tommy. The twins were asleep, their hands twisting in the fabric of your shirt in a tight fist. Wanda and Natasha were in the chairs on either side of you fast asleep. You sighed, looking up at the ceiling. It reminded you of when they found you after Jason’s attack. They sat by your side until you were healed. You were starting to wonder if you being part of this family was doing more harm then good. “You’re thinking to hard, dorogoy (sweetheart).” You looked at the witch, who was rubbing sleep out of her eyes. You offered her your free hand and she took it.

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head.

“Do not apologize,” she said. “None of this was your fault.” It was hard to believe that you were here. You held tightly onto her hand, scared that if you dropped it or looked away she would disappear. “Hey,” you forced your eyes away from her hand and looked at her. “You are home. You are safe. This is real,” you nodded. “Say it back.”

“This is real,” you repeated. “I am safe. I am home.” There was a shake in your voice that caused Billy to take up. He slowly looked around, eyes laced with sleep. His eyes locked onto yours.

“Your awake,” he said, sitting up quickly and throwing himself into your arms.

“Easy, Billy,” Wanda said. The force knocked the air out of your lungs. It was heightened by Tommy waking up and joining the hug. They hugged you tight as if they to were afraid you’d disappear. There was an ache in your body but you ignored it. You were home. Safe and home.

Natasha got the twins out of the room with the promise of getting ice cream. It was harder for Billy to leave your side but you gave him a smile and promised to play Mario Kart with him. It was just you and your moms and a part of you wished the twins were still there. You felt small under their gaze as you picked at the threads on the blanket. “Tommy filled us in on somethings that happened,” Natasha said. “Do you want to talk about anything?” You crossed your legs and starred at your hands. There was so much you wanted to say but it hurt.

“It was the group Jason worked for,” you whispered. “They found me through my parents. My parents needed money for my mom’s treatment so as an incentive to pay them back I was the bargaining chip,” you shrugged. “In the end, my mom died and my dad couldn’t pay them back so he committed suicide but a debt still needed to be collected,” you pushed away a few tears. “They needed me to steal information from Dr. Harris and get them into that warehouse to steal those drugs. And Dmitri,” you felt bile rise. You closed your eyes and you felt the couple place their hand on top of yours.

“Was like Jason, Coach Griffo, Principal Cook, and Conner. Men that tried to take something that wasn’t there’s to take,” you reopened your eyes and moved your fingers against their hands. It helped ground you. “He made his advances well known but when you found me at the warehouse he was upset and made his move. I killed him,” you sighed, biting your lip. “Natasha found me right after I did it.” You were not looking forward to the next part of this conversation. The Black Widow said your name and you looked at her. Her green eyes were a little glossy.

“I need to ask you this and I need you to be 100% honest with us, okay?” You nodded. “Are you suicidal?” You looked forward, unable to look at either of them.

“I-” you cleaned your throat. “Sometimes I feel their hands on me and the heat of their breath on my neck. I want it all to stop.”

“You didn’t answer her question,” Wanda said. Her small comment made you smile and chuckle softly.

“Because I don’t have an answer for you,” you answered. “I wish I did but right now I feel so dirty and mind is so dark and I don’t feel safe. I’m -”

“Stop apologizing.” Natasha cut you off. “Nothing has been your fault.” You nodded. “And thank you for being honest with us. So here is what’s going to happen,” you looked at her. “You are going to stay at the tower and be monitored by Helen.” That was fair.

“You are going to start speaking to a therapist,” Wanda added on. “Sam has found a few and you can decide which one you like.” You nodded again. “Sweetheart,” you looked at Wanda. Her green eyes matched her wife’s, glossy with tears. “You really scared us. We weren’t sure what was going to happen.”

“I’m-” you stopped yourself. “Thank you,” you said instead. “Thank you for saving.”

“I meant it,” Natasha said. “In that room, I said no matter where life takes you we will be by your side.” she ran her hand through your hair. “My firefly, you saved yourself. Time and time again, it has been you. We are here to show you how far you’ve come.” You smiled. It was a long and scary journey ahead of healing but you wanted to overcome everything you’ve been through. You weren’t a pawn but a queen and it was time to show the world who you are.

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

[xhoneygirlxx]

Fade Me

Older!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: your night is ruined when your date is a no show. maybe the handsome stranger at the end of the bar can fix it.

warnings: slight angst. reader is 30, Eddie is early 40s. Modern au! Reader's date sucks. Eddie is a sweetheart. Fluff. Swearing. Shitty writing and grammar mistakes!!! Not proofread!!!! Also Minors go away, I'm an 18+ blog.

*if I missed anything lmk

a/n: WELCOME TO MY BIRTHDAY BASH EVERYONE!!!!!!! I'm so excited to be celebrating with all of you guys!! This isn't my best work but I think its cute and that's all that matters. Love you all and hope you guys like this <3

Oh, maybe, you could devastate me.

Little lady, come and fade me.

Everything at the moment was pissing you off, setting spark to the last small fuse that sat within you. The pain from sitting on the hard bar stool was shooting pain right to your tailbone, not going away no matter how many times you switch your position. The unforgiving squeeze of the uncomfortable heels radiated pain all over your feet and you knew they would be swollen in the morning. The group of rowdy girls at the back of the bar were shrieking with joy over something you have no idea about, but you did know that you wanted to drag all of them by their scalp and remove them from the bar. 

This was stupid, so fucking stupid, and you knew from the very start that it wasn’t going to work. It never does and the next time you see your friends, they aren't going to hear the end of it. Dating sites and dating in general were things you didn’t like to partake in and for good reason. 

Out of all your friends, you happened to be the only single one and you were fine with that, but they weren’t. They begged you, since the moment you broke up with your college sweetheart, to get back out into the dating world. It was actually irritating that they cared so much about your relationship status so much, if you were hooking up with anyone, all under the guise of wanting you to be happy. Truthfully they did want you to be happy and they knew you craved having a relationship, but you were pissed and wanted to stew in your own anger.

Well, right now you were everything but happy. In fact you were furious. Furious with yourself, with them, and most importantly your stupid ass date, Luke. After your thirtieth birthday, your friends all but tackled your phone out of your grasp, making you a stupid tinder profile. 

“Thirty is the new twenty one, babe,” Dahlia said as she and the two other girls scrolled through pictures to post. 

Twenty one your ass, you think, especially with the way you’re fighting a yawn at only nine thirty on a Friday night. 

So you gave in, swiped on a few different people who snatched your attention, one of them being Luke. He was handsome, smiling brightly with a bottle of Corona in his hand and a pair of Raybans perched on the bridge of his nose. His bio was simple, straight to the point, and it was the least douchey thing you’ve read while on the app. 

After making short conversation, you learned that he was an investment banker, working in the Citibank building downtown. His interests were the same as yours, very shy yet loved to have a good time with friends. The best selling point was his dog, Cali, that could be seen in a few of the other pictures he had. 

You were sold, with his witty banter and the fact that he had his life together at thirty two didn’t make the decision hard, especially when all the other people you know that are your age don’t have a solid plan. Which in argument's sake is fine, however you weren’t getting any younger and the want to get married and start a life with someone was getting strong, even though you’d never admit it to your friends. 

So that’s why you’re sitting in a swanky bar in downtown Indy, waiting patiently for your date, who happens to be an hour late, in a dress you spent sixty dollars on. It was a pathetic feeling really, putting this much faith into a stranger in the hopes of finding the one. It’s actually why you didn’t want to do it in the first place and why your friends would have to face your wrath when you get home. 

The buzzing of your phone on the wooden bar jolts you awake, the wave of adrenaline coursing through your veins making your heart pump erratically. 

IMessage 

Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand. 

With a defeated sigh you turn your phone face down, not having the energy to cuss the asshole out for making you wait so long. Pulling your focus on the bartender, you flag him over and order a martini. Dry martini. Very dry. 

When the man places the glass in front of you, he gives you a weak smile as if he knows what’s happening. He probably does know what’s happening, he’s probably seen this happen more times than he’d like to admit and it only adds to your frustration. 

Muttering a small thanks, you take a big swig from the crystal glass, letting the liquor burn down your esophagus. It hits your stomach causing an instant burn, more fuel to the fire that’s been shimmering below the surface. The pity you started to feel has now turned into a new found rage. 

Quickly picking up your phone, you ignore the burn from the sting of the bright light, and tap on Luke’s text. 

Staring at it, you can feel the fire ripping through your body, all the anger and embarrassment you’ve let build up while sitting here coming out as you read his last message. 

Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand.  

You: That would’ve been awesome to know about an hour ago. Thank you for wasting my Friday night asshole. 

Before you can text more insults, a gruff voice interrupts the quick tapping of your acrylic nails on the screen.  

“Trust me sweetheart, he’s not worth it.” Pulling your gaze from your phone, you try to find the owner of the voice. 

Turning to your right you see him, two seats away from you, tucked away into the corner at the end of the bar. You’re not sure when he got there or if he’s been there the whole time but his presence alone is pissing you off. You’re ready to aim your dagger like tongue at him and tell him to go fuck himself when you take in his appearance. 

A plain black tee shirt pulled taunt across his broad chest, tattooed arms squeezed by the material just right. On his hands sits more black ink and nice silver rings, gleaming in the low light of the bar. His hair is brown with a streak or two of salt and pepper mixed in, wisps of hair framing his face from where it fell out of the low bun it’s been pulled into. The crows feet by his eyes are fitting, especially when his dimpled smile is peaking through from where it sits behind his glass of whiskey. 

He seems older, at least from the discolored hair and stubble on his chin, but he’s very handsome. Actually he’s hot and if you weren’t so mad right now, you’d be flirting with him. That’s not the case though, not when he has a smug ass smile on his face like he’s all knowing. 

“What d’you know?” You bite back, waiting for the handsome stranger to answer. When he takes more than a second to answer, you cock an eyebrow at him like it’s taking him too long. 

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” He replies cooly, putting his glass down on the coaster, “Don’t text her, it’s not worth it.” When his eyes meet yours, you can’t help but stop breathing. 

Big brown eyes looking right at you, so soft and gentle. You sink into the warmth of his eyes on you, almost letting yourself drift away. But you’re mad and this stranger is the perfect person to let it all out on. 

“No they’re not a she, and even if it was you don’t know anything.” You look back down at your phone, tapping away at your keyboard finishing what you had started. When you hear him huff out a laugh, the frown that was on your face before quickly deepens. 

“You’re right, sweetheart, I don’t know anything. What I do know is when a pretty girl like yourself has been sitting alone at a bar for longer than an hour and suddenly starts tapping away on that thing, like you are right now, I know she’s been stood up.” 

His statement brings you right back out of your phone, willing yourself not to wipe that ‘know it all’ look right off of his pretty face. Your scowl is piercing right through him, hating the way that he could see right through you and yet not having a clue who you were. 

“Hey, I’m not judging,” He throws his hands up in surrender, “But I promise, whatever douche made someone as stunning as you, wait in a bar this long for ‘em, doesn’t deserve you. Plus, you’re too pretty to be lookin’ that angry.” He picks his glass up, finishing off the rest before nodding to the bartender for another. 

In any other situation you’d be telling them off, yelling at them to get lost, but something about this stranger feels different. You could write it off and say it’s because he’s attractive but in all actuality, it’s because he’s gentle when he says it. His eyes aren’t roaming your body like some pig, hoping to get into your panties by sweet talking to you. It’s like he actually cares about you, the stranger in her pretty dress who has been stood up by her date, like he’s known you his whole life. 

Slowly you set your phone down, relaxing the sour look on your face, and you take a deep breath. The last thing you want to do is cry, especially in a bar, and especially in front of the caring hot stranger. 

“Is it that obvious?” You ask shyly, picking up your martini glass for another sip. The man shakes his head, moving his posture so that he’s leaning towards you. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, “Don’t start thinking down on yourself. Yes it was a little obvious but my suspicion grew more when you didn’t order a drink after sitting at a bar for five minutes.” 

The statement makes you laugh wetly when he says it, a single tear escaping your eye causing you to wipe it hoping it’s not noticeable. If he sees it, he doesn’t say anything, instead moving over to the seat next to you. 

“Listen, don’t let whatever dickhead person ruin your night. From what I’ve witnessed you’re a pretty badass chick, so whatever frat bro did this to you should be scared.” An inked hand places a white napkin in front of you, a peace offering that you’re quick to take. 

“That’s the worst part, he’s not even a frat bro. He’s a finance bro.” When you chance a look up at him, he’s looking right back at you, pearly white teeth staring at you. 

In a split second he’s laughing, a deep belly kind of laugh with his head thrown back. As much as you want to defend yourself, tell him that Luke wasn’t your first choice, you can’t. Following suit, you start giggling as well, placing the white napkin to the corner of your eye to collect any unushered tears. 

“I gotta tell you sugar, that’s even worse.” The pet name doesn’t get lost on you, heart stuttering the minute it falls from his lips. Trying to pull yourself together, hoping he didn’t see the way you stiffened at the name, you clear your throat. 

“Tell me about it,” You playfully roll your eyes, taking a sip of what’s left of your drink. 

When you move your sight back over to him, he’s leaning back, dimples showing off, almost like he knows something you don’t. He does know something however, he knows that he has some sort of effect on you, watching you with pink flushing your cheeks and it’s not from the alcohol. 

“So,” You break the silence, “Sugar, huh?” You furrow your brows questioningly and it only makes him smile bigger than before. 

When he leans forward you catch a whiff of his scent, pine and cedar, musky and smoky. He’s even prettier up close and your eyes are trying to map out every detail of him so that you can remember it when you go to sleep tonight, dreaming of the good looking stranger who made your night better. 

“Well, between the softness of your laugh and your scowl that could kill,” his voice is low and husky, saying a secret for only you to hear, “You have a little bit of sugar and spice. Kind of like that cartoon with the badass power wielding girls.” 

“Do you mean the PowerPuff Girls?” Cocking your head to the side you laugh, his true age showing in the way that he described the Cartoon Network show. 

“I’m showing my true age, huh? Well, in my defense I was fifteen and you probably weren’t born yet.” His crows feet become more defined. Shaking your head, you wave to the bartender for another martini. 

“Actually, I was five but you were close enough.” His eyes go wide in shock with your admission. When another glass is placed in front of you, you send a smile to the bartender and he gives you one back. 

Looking back at the man next to you, you raise an eyebrow, questioning why he’s so surprised at your age. Blowing out a big breath it seems he’s been holding the whole time, he takes a swig of his own drink. 

“Sorry, I just,” he sighs, looking back up at you quizzingly, “wow, you’re really thirty?” Although there’s no malice behind his question, you can’t help but frown at him. He notices and immediately back tracks. 

“Fuck, no not like that I just meant,” You wait for him to dig himself a deeper hole. When he finally gets his thoughts together, he looks at you, really looks at you and it makes you want to melt. “Listen, I really didn’t mean it like that, I promise. Honestly, I felt like a perv when I first started talkin’ to you, thinkin’ you were like twenty one. When you said you were thirty, I was just surprised, that’s all. Maybe a little excited knowing I might have a chance.” 

You take in what he says to you, how sincere his voice is, and you know he isn’t lying. You don’t want to give in so fast though, you want him to sweat it out a bit. So you take a sip of your drink, your eyebrow still arched in fake annoyance. With an extra shot of courage, you look over at him, fake pout on your red stained lip. 

“How can you have a chance when I don’t even know your name?” Your voice is like silk, smooth and soft. The older man clearly likes it, the way a smirk is formed on his pink kissable lips is a clear indicator. 

“M’Eddie, Eddie Munson,” He offers you his ringed hand for a handshake, “And you are?” You give him your name and he hums with delight. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

You snort loudly at his comment, covering your mouth to stop from any further laughter from falling from your lips. Eddie arches an eyebrow at you, questioning what you found so funny. 

“I’m sorry, that was just so corny.” Another giggle slips from you and the cool facade he had crumples, laughing along with you. 

“S’pretty bad, huh?’ He scrunches his nose and you think it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Yeah it was bad, who told you that would work?” You take a sip of your martini and look at him from over the rim of your glass. 

Chuckling and shaking his head, Eddie rubs his forehead as if he’s stressed. Now he’s the one fumbling and nervous, you got him in the palm of your hand. 

“Goodness, it was going so well too.” You continue to tease, the playfulness dripping from your voice. Looking over at you Eddie can’t help but smile, those damn dimples back on display. 

“You’re trouble, sugar.” It’s said with the utmost confidence and it has you blushing.

“Oh you haven’t seen anything yet, babe.” It’s an invitation for him to find out and you hope he catches it. 

“How about I find out on Sunday over dinner and some drinks? What do you say?” Eddie leans into you when he says it, getting the closest he’s been to you, letting his husky voice fill your ears. 

Trying to hide the chill that runs up your back and the excitement that settles in your belly, you lean in just as close. “I’d say you have a date, pretty boy.” 

The two of you stay like that for a minute, smiling like giddy teens. Breaking away from the small moment, he pulls his phone out from his pocket, unlocking it and opening up the phone app to type in a new contact. 

Handing you the phone, his face seems boyish and giddy, you’re sure if he wasn’t sitting he’d be bouncing on the ball of his feet. Typing in your number, you shyly smile up at him handing back his phone. 

“I better hear from you Eddie Munson or finance bro won’t be the only one gettin’ his ass kicked.” Pointing a finger at him, you try your best to look as mean as possible but your plan quickly fails when you see his eyes shining at you. 

“Yes ma’am.” Throwing a wink at you, he reaches into his wallet and pulls a crisp hundred out and places it on the bar top. “I’ll be seein’ you soon, sugar.” Wrapping his fingers around yours, he places a kiss to the back of your hand. 

The feeling of his lips on your skin makes you ache for more, and the moment it’s gone you wish you can make him do it again. Pulling your lip in between your teeth, you look up at him like he’s hung the stars. 

The moment is cut short when the bartender asks Eddie if he wants change. Surprisingly he doesn’t look at the older man with anger for ruining it, instead he gives him a nice smile. 

“No Paul, the change is all yours. Also, this beautiful young lady’s drinks are on my tab.” Nodding his head, the bartender thanks Eddie for the generous tip. 

Pulling his attention back to you, he cuts you off before you can chastise him for paying. “Let me pay for the pretty girl who made my whole night, it’s the least I can do.” 

Rolling your eyes, you try hard to not let him see how flustered you are. When he bids you a goodnight, you can’t help but feel the ache of his absence. The whole time you’re in the Lyft home you think of him, staring out the window and replaying everything in your head. 

Once you get home, you sit in silence on the end of your bed, not worrying about the shower you need to take. You can’t believe the luck you had in meeting Eddie and a part of you wants to thank Luke for not showing up. 

The ding of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, your heartbeat picking up when you read your screen. 

Maybe Eddie: Hey it’s Eddie, just wanted to make sure you got home safe. I wanted to ask if you could thank that loser for not showin up, he really did both of us a favor tonight. 

When you read it, you can’t help but giggle a little. Although corny and maybe a little dorky, Eddie had thought the same thing as you and for some reason it sent the butterflies in your tummy on a rampage. 

Maybe Eddie: You’re totally laughing at me right now, aren’t you?

Bursting into laughter, your tummy flips in excitement, imagining him blushing on the other side of the phone. Tapping away on your screen, you send him a reply. 

You: Oh you know it 😉

You: Thank you for making sure I got home by the way, I appreciate it. 

Eddie: I should’ve known. Glad you got home in one piece. 

Eddie: Night, sugar. See you Sunday 🖤

Fuck a text, you were going to send Luke a thank you card and maybe some chocolate.

I hope you guys liked this! I can't wait to continue this week with all of you! See you all tomorrow with the next fic :)

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#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader #honey's birthday bash #honey's holiday celebrations

[writingstoraes]

in his eyes 📸

pairing: charles_leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: not proofread hehe plz expect errors! seemed like it was a good idea so 🤷‍♂️ lmk what u guys think!

about: the launch of lec.jpg on instagram drives everyone crazy well because - majority of it is just you.

lec.jpg

liked by daniel.jpg, landonorris, pascale_leclerc, and 1,782 others

lec.jpg The most beautiful woman to ever walk the Earth. I just fall deeper in love with you every day.

P.S. Still unsure whether we'd finally get a dog 🤷‍♂️

daniel.jpg Such good pictures, mate! Beating me at my own game now? 😆

lec.jpg I just have the prettiest muse that's all

yourusername do you promise to attend to him if he goes number 2 or are u gonna leave me alone 🤔

lec.jpg

liked by alexalbon23, maxverstappen, lorenzotl, and 1,113 others

lec.jpg Had the best time tonight with the greatest girl in the world 🌍 Never a dull day with you, amoúr

carlossainz55 So sweet it physically pains me

landonorris Amazing, Daniel owes me 50 dollars

lec.jpg What was the bet, Lando?

landonorris That this account will be filled with Y/N's pictures 🫢

lec.jpg

liked by isahernaez, arthurleclerc, pierregasly, and 1,073 others

lec.jpg My baby and I in black and white 🤍

pierregasly A smile wouldn't hurt

lec.jpg Timer went off earlier than it was supposed to 🤷‍♂️

lilymhe My fave couple! ❤️

lec.jpg

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen, pascale_leclerc, and 1,450 others

lec.jpg Went karting with Y/N today, safe to say she is very lucky she's pretty hahaha i love you still, baby

yourusername i went easy on you cause your ego wont be able to handle it 😷

lec.jpg Okay Ms. Can't Drive Straight

lec.jpg

liked by pierregasly, lorenzotl, landonorris, and 1,001 others

lec.jpg Abu Dhabi. My lucky charm in the paddock all ready to cheer me on ❤️

yourusername my world champion, je taimè 😘

lorenzotl Best of luck, brother!

danielricciardo Charles come on I don't want to lose another 50 dollars to Lando can you post my face just once

lec.jpg

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55, maxverstappen, and 1,293 others

lec.jpg So incredibly in love with you it's unbelievable

yourusername the exact same can be said to you, you know?

arthurleclerc Tell Y/N the cousins miss her

arthurleclerc Just her, not you hahaha

lec.jpg 🤦‍♂️

---------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: currently working on split's part 2! let me know if u guys want to be tagged <33 thanks so much for reading!

#writtenbyrae #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc instagram imagine #charles leclerc insta au #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #formula 1 instagram imagine #f1 social media au #f1 instagram imagine #f1 x oc #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you

[pawnshopbleus]

Miller's Girl - Part One

Professor!Joel Miller x Fem!College Student!Reader Very Loosely based off of the new movie, Miller's Girl, starring Jenna Ortega and Martin Freeman

Summary - Your landlord decides to raise the rent in your studio apartment the day you are fired from your job. In need of money, you sign up for a babysitting service your friend suggested. You didn’t expect to get an offer so quickly, and you also didn’t expect to come from your professor.

Series contains - cursing, mature language, teacher x student relationship, age gap, smut, fluff, angst, non beta read chapters and everything else I forgot to mention

College, no outbreak, and modern AU

The record store in downtown Austin was filled to the brim with people excited to have their items signed by their favorite band. The crowd was a mix of teen girls with their dads and middle-aged men on their lonesome. The band in question was some underground band from the eighties that you had never heard of. 

Your co-worker, Emma, was in charge of keeping the crowd in check while you were manning the register. This wasn’t the first time you had done these signings. In the two years that you have worked here, hundreds of artists have come in and out of those doors. They attract their loyal fans to the store which can give it more publicity and customers. 

Your eyes scan the crowd. It was still pretty full, but the line had stopped trickling out of the doors and onto the sidewalk. You look over at Emma to see her standing with her weight on her left hip and her arms crossed. If you didn’t know her, you would have thought she looked like a bitch, but in all actuality, she is the nicest girl you know. 

The doors open and the bell above it rings. Your boss comes in and surveys the store. His bald head nods as he skims it. Nothing had been stolen and the customers looked happy. When his eyes land on you, your heart drops. You know that look. It was the same look he gave your other co-worker that look right before he fired him. You cross your fingers under the counter and plaster a fake smile on your face. 

Your entire world looks like it’s in slow motion. Your boss steps closer. Each step he takes makes your heart thump in your chest. The sound his thousand-dollar shoes make on the floor sounds like the bombs used on the battlefield. 

You don’t know if you either blacked out or passed out, but the next thing you knew, you were in the staff room gathering your things. This would be the last time you would ever step foot in this record store as an employee, but that should have been the least of your worries. You needed this job. Without it, you won’t be able to afford rent. Luckily, you were smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship for the university you attended, but there were still other expenses that needed to be paid. 

The hallway of your apartment building seemed colder than it usually is. The usual shushing of dogs who aren’t supposed to be in the apartment is replaced with static. The crickets weren’t even chirping. The sound of your breathing brought you out of your tiny rut. At least you were still alive.

The pink paper in front of your door made you stop in your tracks. You could read what it said from where you stood. ‘Rent will be increased to a thousand dollars a month’ was typed out in Times New Roman. Only pretentious bitches type in Times New Roman. 

You were sure that this was the work of the couple that bought the building six months ago. They promised the residents who lived there that the rent would stay the same, but the promise had just been broken. You were worried for yourself, sure, but you were also worried about the elderly people who couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. 

You wish nothing but the worst for the new landlords and make your way into your studio apartment. It’s a mess, just the way you left it this morning. Your cat, Bill, lays outstretched on your couch as if he were the one who just worked eight hours only to get fired at the end of it. 

You flop on your couch and sigh. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to do. You just got fired and your rent got increased. If you can’t pay rent then you’ll become another homeless college student. Just another statistic to the state and a burden to the university. 

Your phone chimes and you almost cry with joy as you see your best friend’s caller ID flash across the screen. 

You pick up the phone and she begins talking immediately. She goes on and on about some boy she saw a the mall. He had icy blonde hair, but his roots were showing which meant that he wasn’t a natural blonde. This was a good distraction for about a few minutes until you realized that you wouldn’t be able to afford to go to the mall anymore. 

Your hot tears dribbled down your cheeks and fell onto your chest. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Cherry, I just got fired from my fucking job because my boss wants to buy more fucking shoes and my rent just got fucking increased because my landlords are fucking bastards!” You say through tears. “I think I just heard you say ‘fucking’ in that one sentence more times than I have heard you say it in your entire life,” Cherry laughs. 

“It’s not funny, Cherry. I'm going to be homeless!”

“Stop being dramatic. Sign up for flowers for one dot com. It’s a babysitting website where single parents find a babysitter for their children. My cousin did it for about a year and made more money than she does at her regular job.” 

For the first time in a very long time, Cherry gave you actual good advice. She gave you a solution to all of your problems. 

“Thanks, Cher, bye.” You hang up before Cherry has a chance to say goodbye. 

Your phone drops onto the couch and bounces off, falling on the floor. You suck in air through your teeth and grab your phone off the floor. You should be more gentle with it because you can’t afford to get a new one if it breaks. 

Flowers for one dot com was a simple website. It got straight to the point. No fancy explanation of ‘who are we’ or ‘why do we do this.’  You include the fact that you are certified by the Red Cross in CPR and that you are a senior at The University of Texas at Austin. You also add that you are majoring in architecture and the fact that you want to become an interior designer. 

Your profile is up and running in an hour. You look over it again and close your laptop. Your life is falling apart piece by piece, but maybe you should clean up a bit. 

The dirty clothes that were being neglected in the corner of your room are now in your hamper. You can see the hardwood floor that you’ll be paying a thousand dollars a month for. 

Your phone chimes once again, but this time it’s an email from the website. You almost drop your phone again as you read who it’s from. 

Joel Miller, Professor of Architectural Studies at The University of Texas at Austin.

I'm the pretentious bitch that writes in Times New Roman 🙋🏿‍♀️

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou

[static-sulker]

I might maybe possibly be thinking of a modern fantasy apartment AU with the main crew. All of them being stupid ass magical roommates without tadpoles...Just letting them be happy.

Also my Tav is in there because...yeah. His name is Silk and he is such a silly guy ridden with the 'tism. Drow Warlock who sees the good in everything... Such a...A yeah...

Little notes i've been conjuring about this...

Gale and Wyll made a chore chart in the kitchen, with little magnets for each person. Astarion regularly will switch his magnet in the middle of the night just so he doesn't have to do the fucking dishes and EVERYBODY knows besides Gale and Wyll. Wyll is on the fence about it, but Gale wholeheartedly believes when Astarion lies through his teeth about never having done it.

Karlach and Halsin go on grocery runs in the mornings. Karlach goes for the running part, while Halsin comes along for the run as well as to stop Karlach from buying the most horrendous shit. The one time she went alone very early in the houses lifespan, Karlach bought like 3 bags of go-gurt, about 50 dollars worth of cheap booze, and a big piece of raw steak to cook. She burnt said steak. But she's trying now, at least.

The team will take turns every now and then to get Astarion blood from themselves as it gives Astarion a lot more energy then normal settling blood. BUT they do have "blood bags" that they set up in the kitchen fridge whenever they know nobody with the right blood is gonna be available to give him blood if he needs it. They TOTALLY get it by legal means and it TOTALLY doesn't melt Astarions heart that they try so hard to help him.

Silk finds a stray dog in the alleys of their building one day when they went out to work (they do freelance art with their magic for like startups, it's fun). After casting "speak with animals" they find out this dog, Scratch, is waiting for his owner to return. His owner was killed out by some gnoll gang downtown. When they come back from work later in the evening, they find Scratch again, still waiting. Long story short, Silk adopts scratch in their very strict "no pets" rule of an apartment. And don't get me STARTED on the owlbear cub. Lae'zel and Halsin were out, originally to get some spare lightbulbs and tools for the apartment and find the little critter getting chase by some goblins in some backalley parking lot. Lae'zel plans to ignore the thing, but Halsin assists the cub. Once done, they plan to leave, before the cub begins to follow them home. Halsin names the cub "Vauva" and Lae'zel soon becomes SO attached.

They have presentation nights, where everybody makes slideshows about literally anything. Last week, Gale made one about the conflicts of archmages and the idea of apprentices. Karlach then made a tier list on the worst monsters ever documented, Lae'zel helped with that one. Shadowheart made this whole discussion over her favorite and least favorite teas (she fuckin' hates green tea for like no reason). Wyll made one on Baldurs Gate history. Astarion made a smash or pass list of all of the political leaders in Baldurs Gate. Silk made a presentation on the weirdest underdark myths and rumors they have heard on their time above ground. Halsin presented (well more like persuaded) on getting a new herb for their kitchens row of herbs and spices set on the windowsill. They have too many and he got like 5 minutes of stand time before Karlach kicked him off.

Lae'zel hate-cleans when shes mad at somebody in the apartment. Basically, she cleans every room in the entire fucking apartment BESIDES any of said "victims" parts of the house. One time, she got into a fight with Shadowheart and threw all of the dirty laundry she had so carefully put into the laundry room back into her room just all over the fucking place. If shes calm though, the house is normally fairly clean under her and Wyll's watch. It's one of the only things they agree on.

Because every bg3 piece of content I make loops back to bloodweave, I think they would have a little reading time together. Like whenever everybody is settling down for the night and they are up for it, they take this lovely window seat couch/bed thing in Gales room and just take out a good bottle of wine and a book for each of them and just read until late. They originally did this separately, but when the two find themselves both in the living room at 2 in the morning reading, they decide in silent agreement to make it routine. They sometimes read in silence, other times just talking absently about anything. Shadowheart finds out first by coming in to Gales room late one night to return a book he lent to her to find the two both passed out, tucked away in the window, books still in hand before they accidentally passed out. Shadowheart then teases them with photos the morning after.

Karlach and Lae'zel both do these really intense shadowboxing exercises in Karlachs room whenever the two have freetime and enough energy to go through with it. It's a heated bitter rivalry in the eyes of the githyanki, but Karlach just loves a little workout with her friend! Lae'zel does enjoy the workouts, as she doesn't get many options to really let off ALL of her steam, even if she works at a gym as a personal trainer. She is constantly told shes a bit TOO rough with the clients so she has to "tone it down". So it's nice.

Astarion and Shadowheart have girls nights. Like they paint each others nails and watch like twilight together (ironically they get so heated at how wrong they get it. "Just another human writer writing about shit she doesn't get" is used a lot in their rewatches). They also talk about like...their feelings. But it's very sparse and done so by a copious amount of wine (wine with a heavy amount of blood on the side for Astarion). Both of them never got to have moments like this in their childhoods, of just pure calmness and domestic childhood enjoyment, so they make due with what they can.

BY THE HELLS I JUST REALIZED I WROTE THIS MUCH. DAMN OKAY.

#baldurs gate three #baldurs gate au #bg3 modern fantasy au #origins apartment #bg3 astarion #bg3 karlach #bg3 gale #bg3 wyll #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 halsin #bg3 shadowheart #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #karlach cliffgate #shadowheart #lae'zel #wyll ravengard #halsin #bloodweave #can you see im crazy about this?

[nico-di-genova]

A Conversation with Fernando Alonso

Publication: The Athletic

Publish Date: September 21, 2026

Fernando is keen to discuss his recent success with Real Madrid when we sit down at his boyfriend’s home in Montreal. Well, one of his homes. The creative director of luxury fashion brand, Strulovitch Designs, Lance Stroll has an additional property in London and another in Miami. The pair oscillate between these residences and Fernando’s own homes in Dubai and Spain. For now, they are enjoying the beginnings of fall around the cozy fire of a multi-million dollar property in the heart of the city.

“So things are good for you right now then?” I ask, as Fernando occupies himself with petting his and Lance’s dog, a lounging black lab named princess.

“You’ve got the World Cup, the house, the dog, what’s next?”

Fernando grins, it is the mischievous look of a man who already knows what he wants and how he plans to get it. The same look he is known for giving moments before helping his team to score a goal. It is why the Spaniard has attracted such attention during his long stint with the team, his relentless drive and determination to get it. This year, that commitment to success has earned him his third World Cup.

“Eh, I don’t know. We see, yes?” Fernando shrugs, the grin grows, and princess huffs. Fernando scratches her behind the ears.

“Maybe next I buy a ring. Maybe I retire. Maybe I go for the fourth.”

“Plenty of options,” I quip.

“Oh yes, plenty.”

@raapija’s football husband/fashion designer husband au, Fernando edition!

#strollonso #fernando alonso #literally been rotating in my head like a rotisserie chicken all day #football/fashion au

[sunlightmurdock]

Blow by Blow | 0.9 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni. Alcohol, sexual content whilst somewhat intoxicated (not drunk but worth mentioning). Fingering, oral (f receiving). Pls pee after sexual activity, this is just fiction, like 5.4k words omg

…

“You have to come out, we’re celebrating!” Jake decides, trademark grin toying on his lips as you duck under his arms and step outside. The evening chill brushes your biceps and instinctively makes you cross your arms over your chest.

“Mm, I can’t,” You answer back, turning to face him and starting to walk backwards to keep up with your friends whilst keeping your eyes on Jake. He lets the door swings shut behind him and carries himself forwards after you. His busted up cheek doesn’t look like much cause for celebration, but the ten thousand dollars that tonight raised for charity certainly is. “I need to go and feed Tank.”

“I can let him out and feed him. Have to drop some papers off at the gym anyway, wouldn’t be a big deal.” Shrugging his jacket closer to his body, Maverick offers from just a few steps behind you. Jake quirks an eyebrow.

“Really, Mav?” Spinning back around so that you’re facing the right way, Bradley glances back and watches the brightness in the way you’re smiling at his uncle. “You would?”

“Of course! — It’s the least I could do for my favourite employee, right?” Maverick grins at you. You throw your head back and laugh at the various gasps and vocal complaints that come from Maverick’s other employees that surround you.

“Bro, why are you saying ‘hey’, you don’t even work with us.” Mickey points out, frowning slightly as he lifts his chin to look up at Rueben. Digging his hands deep into his pockets so that he can flex his aching fists without drawing attention to himself, Rueben shrugs his shoulders.

“I dunno, that was cold, Mav.” Rueben points out playfully.

“She’s the only one who does what I pay her to do, so she’s my favourite. Anyway, I’ve got a dog to go feed. You kids have fun.” Maverick waves them off as he nears the parking lot. Jake catches your shoulders and bumps into your back, squeezing your bare shoulders playfully.

“So you’re in, right, kid?” He checks, leaning over your shoulder to check your face. Protected from the cold finally, you don’t even realize that you’re leaning into his touch until he’s letting go. Something in Rooster’s shoulders tighten, the kind of tension he usually gets seconds before he steps into the ring.

Replacing Jake’s warm hands with your own, you brush your palms up and down your biceps, craning your neck to watch Maverick reach his car safely. Rooster’s bronco is parked right next to it. You shoot a quick look towards him and find him already looking at you, waiting for your answer.

“Okay.” You nod softly, eyes unwavering from the taller man up ahead of you. He looks away first, frowning slightly as Phoenix smacks him for not listening to what she’s saying. “Where are we going?”

A club not far from the downtown strip. Phoenix calls it walking distance but she hikes for fun, and you’re wearing heels that weren’t meant for the San Diego streets. Looping your arm through Mickey’s, you end up walking a little slower than the rest of the group. Rooster periodically checks back. You look happy enough.

He’s sure that it’s not going to be your scene and that you’re going to want to leave fairly quickly. But then, you’re under purple neon lights and being talked into celebratory shots with the winners. Jake and Phoenix can pound tequila like it’s water. They make it a competition every time. You’re no match for either of them.

Jake’s a winner this evening and Phoenix remains undefeated in her weight class; Payback’s only ever lost once. There’s a lot to celebrate and it’s your first time playing this game. Rooster watches you like a ball on a roulette wheel, slamming back whatever liquid Jake hands you. He knows that there are two ways for this to end.

Still, four shots in and a vodka lemonade in your hand, you’re still laughing your head off as you make your way through the bodies to the dance floor. He loses you in the mass of dancing people for a moment. When he sets his sights on you again, you’re laughing so hard that you’re clutching your stomach as Mickey and Bob weave around each other.

The music’s loud enough that he can’t really hear himself think, but he swears he can hear your infectious laugh over it.

“It’s alright that she’s not into you, you know.” It’s a packed nightclub on a weekend and yet, Bradley still flinches when Phoenix appears at his side. He rolls his eyes as she rests her hand on his shoulder and nudges a shot glass filled with clear liquid across the bar to him.

“How would you know that she’s not into me? — You didn’t ask her.”

“Roo, she has barely looked at you all night,” Phoenix points out as she runs her fingers through her hair, scalp still sore from the tight bun that she always has Javy scrape it back into. “The bartender, though, she is into you.”

Bradley takes the shot and knocks it back, dismayed to find that it’s vodka. It makes him shiver, shaking his head as he turns his back on the glass. “Think I’m gonna take my chances with your BFF.”

“Is that… jealousy I hear?” Phoenix taunts, leaning into him so that he’ll be able to hear her over the music.

“We’ve barely hung out since you brought her around — you know that you haven’t been to my place in over a month?” Rooster replies. Phoenix points to the shot glass and holds up two fingers. The gym’s closed tomorrow and she is planning on making the most of her time off.

Leaning her head against his thick shoulder, she smiles softly. She has known Bradley since he was thirteen, and the two of them have been on a course of fucked up adventures together ever since. He gets her, she gets him. Instant best friends.

She has seen the worst of him frequently, and the best of him fleetingly. Adoration is a strong word for a man that she considers assaulting multiple times a week, but Bradley really is the brother that she always wanted. Which is why she is so blunt with him, he can take it, and sometimes it’s the only way to get information through that thick skull of his.

Pounding music and sweaty bodies filling the room, Rooster almost feels alone with Natasha at the bar. Just the two of them and their conversation.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make time,” Phoenix promises, squeezing his shoulder. She grins as two more shots are placed in front of her. “Now stop being so moody and get drunk with me.”

Phoenix is a difficult type of drunk, because there is absolutely nothing ‘gradual’ about the way alcohol hits her. She’s fine, and then she’s not. Years of knowing her and Bradley still sometimes misses her tell.

She’s fine when his attention falters. His gaze finding you in the crowd. Bathed in a neon glow, your grin stretched wide as you dance with your friends. Swaying your hips, trailing your hands up along your body and over your head, eyes closed. Jake catches your waist and spins you to face him.

The rational part of Bradley’s brain reminds him that this is just what Jake does. Even Phoenix dances with him, he’s just that kind of guy. But his arms draped around your waist and that slinky black dress has the larger majority of Bradley’s brain plotting otherwise.

Then, Phoenix stumbles and spills forwards, arms flying out for leverage. Rooster steps forwards and catches her, lifting her off of the ground and setting her back on her feet.

“You alright?” He asks.

“I’m — yeah — completely.” She slurs back as she resigns into his arms, letting her head lull back and her eyes blink heavily. Rooster sighs softly, giving her a small shake before she turns into completely dead weight in his arms.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep right now.” Bradley warns her. He lifts his head and looks towards his friends, trying to make eye contact with any of them. Already looking in that direction, you notice him balancing Phoenix in his arms first. Your friends are quick to corral.

Huddling outside, Bradley has Phoenix tucked in against his chest with Bob’s coat draped around her, rubbing his hand up and down her back. Waiting for five different Ubers to turn up, chilled to the bone and suddenly sobered by the way Bradley isn’t looking at you.

Not in a malicious way. Just like there’s nothing on his mind than keeping Phoenix awake and warm until her car is here. She keeps his head on straight, he keeps her out of danger. It’s not always an equal alliance, but it’s one that’s cherished nonetheless.

You’re considering the platonic nature of their relationship, inspecting the way her arms are wrapped around his waist, holding herself close. You brush your hands up and down along your biceps.

“Hey, kid, I forgot to tell you,” Jake rounds on you, talking so quickly that your intoxicated brain struggles to keep up. You blink a few times and he switches from soft fuzz to defined lines and thick muscles. “I found you a fight. I can manage you, if you’re interested.”

Ears perking up at the conversation, Rooster doesn’t turn his head, but he glances across at the way your face lights up.

“Car’s here. Wake up, Nix.” Mickey nudges Natasha with his elbow as he steps to the edge of the curve to signal the driver. Phoenix groans defeatedly against Bradley’s chest. Something about her little competition with Jake not being over.

“Alright, watch her head.” Bradley passes her off into the capable hands of Bob and Mickey, knowing that they’re content enough to crash at her place because of how close it is to the beach. He swings the car door shut and tugs a hand through his stubborn curls.

The option is there to just call himself a car and go back to his place, but it’s a wordless agreement that he’s coming back with you. Safety and all that. The proximity of his apartment to yours. Whatever. Your car is next, slipping wordlessly into the backseat with Rooster sliding in next to you.

You hate when people stare at you for too long. It makes you squirm and shift under their gaze. And yet, you just can’t help doing it to Bradley. Studying him silently for the drive, thinking of what you just saw, of what you heard earlier.

It’s too complex for your tequila fuelled brain at this moment, to understand how the same man who broke through someone’s eye socket and almost blinded them, could stand on a curb with his best friend being so gentle and tender. How does someone go from one to the other.

You never understood that with Jett. With him, the lines were quick to blur and it was easy to lose sight of where the violence ended and the affection began. With Bradley, it’s like those are two different people, much less two different sides of him.

“Give me the keys, Bambi. I don’t have all night.” Rooster insists, walking around the back of the car as you swing the door on your side shut and stumble towards the door.

“Why? — Got somewhere to be?” You tease playfully, your strides long and confident as you head for the stairs. He’s hot on your tail.

“Well, yeah, I’d kind of like to go to bed at some point tonight.” He replies, keeping up with the quick work you make of the stairs.

“I’m literally not even drunk.” You tell him with a small frown. He watches the three times that you try to slot your key into the lock and miss before he decides to intervene. Pressing his chest into your back, he takes your hand and guides it forwards, fitting the key into the lock and twisting.

It complies instantly and you stumble forwards as it opens. Rooster catches your hips and follows after you, steadying you with his weight and swinging the door shut.

Tank barks and leaps up, pressing his paws into your middle, tail wagging excitedly. You drop to your knees and begin greeting him. Rooster stands in your entryway, listening to the excited baby talk from you and happy whines from Tank.

“Rooster, say hi.” You catch hold of his jeans and tug softly. Your chin turns towards him and he’s floored by the way you look smiling up at him like this. You tug again, “Come on, say hi.”

He sighs softly and kneels to the ground. He smooths his fingers over Tank’s fur, both of them seemingly uninterested in each other and each looking at you instead. You kiss the top of Tank’s head and pull back laughing as he tries to lick your face.

Then, you turn, pushing yourself up onto your knees and kissing Rooster’s cheek. Pressing closer to him, you kiss the corner of his mouth. He almost lets you kiss his lips, then leans back. “Bambi, c’mon. Not tonight.”

“Why not tonight?”

Every other night, he’s more than happy to come in and try to get in your pants. You remain on your knees as he pushes himself to his feet. Tank presses into your side, reminding you to pet him more.

“I should get going, now that you’re home, and stuff.”

“Don’t have to.” You reply quietly, looking up at his through your lashes. You press a gentle kiss to Tank’s ear, smiling softly as he leans into your touch.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not!” You insist. Truthfully, the car ride looking at his pretty face and his shoulders straining against that shirt, and his thighs in those jeans — and knowing what’s in his pants. It was all pretty sobering.

“I’m not going to argue with you, baby. Get some sleep.” Rooster leans down and kisses the top of your head. You catch hold of his wrist and tug yourself to your feet.

“Come on, what do you want me to do? — Say my alphabet backwards? - Walk in a straight line?”

“Actually, I would like to see you try to walk in a straight line right now, yeah.” He rests his hands against the kitchen countertop and calls your bluff. It’s refreshing for him to be in this room when it isn’t spinning. Looking around at the framed pictures, the hanging lights and the cute throw pillows, he likes the way you decorated this place. He likes that it’s not just gathering dust now.

Squinting at him defiantly, you stick your arms out at your sides and turn away from him.

“Don’t try to fool me, kid. I want to see a solid six paces, at least.”

Six paces it is. You count the soft taps of your heels crossing the hardwood floor, arms stretched out at your sides. Rather impressively, you make it to the door and spin on your heel to face him.

Extending one leg forwards, the journey back towards him has a rockier start as you miss the pointed heel and wobble, almost twisting your ankle.

“Alright,” Rooster chuckles as he starts towards you, shaking his head. His hands are on you immediately, holding you in place. “Bedtime, Bambi.”

“I haven’t taken my makeup off yet.” You frown at him, catching hold of his broad shoulders to steady yourself as he crouches in front of you. You look down and watch, eyes widening as he lifts your foot and turns his attention to the strap around your ankle.

Large fingers and a teeny-tiny little buckle. Ridiculous manufacturing. Cute, delicate heels — he likes them, but there’s a split second where he really considers just breaking it. You wouldn’t like that. Phoenix’s voice rings in his head reminding him to be respectful of other people’s belongings. He rolls his eyes and squints.

It only works if he moves tentatively slowly, brows knitted together in concentration as he threads the strap out of the loop and free from the buckle. He frees you from the shoes and straightens up, holding onto your waist as you step down from them.

“That was sweet of you,” You comment, now having to tilt your chin slightly to look up at him. “I’m gonna wash my face and brush my teeth.”

“Alright. I’ll leave once you’re in bed.” Rooster decides as you walk by him. He drops down onto your couch and rubs tiredly at his eyes. The rhythmic thrumming of that bass track in the club still pulses in his ears. He’s getting too old for this shit.

Even with that, you make sure that he hears your sound of discontentment from the bathroom. Taking his hand away from the bridge of his nose and resting it against his denim clad thigh, Rooster sighs, “What? You need me to do something else?”

Tank has stolen his spot on the couch already, so that’s not an option. Tank adores fleecy blankets and you just so happened to leave one out earlier. He’s already on his back with his paws stretched out above him, tangled in lilac and white fleece.

“No.” Rooster’s brows knit together once again at your answer. Well, it isn’t the answer that’s the issue. Your tone is. It’s a grumpy little statement, almost like you’re sulking. Pushing himself up from the couch, he walks over the bathroom door and stares at you.

“So why can’t I go?”

“Mm,” Swaying slightly, on the right side of buzzed as you swipe the cotton round over your cheeks, you look up at him dwarfing the bathroom door frame. “You could stay over.”

The micellar water cools the heat from your cheeks, cold porcelain under your other palm. Rooster watches you silently, waiting for further information. He’s not going to say no to another night on your couch, but he’s got a feeling that’s not where you’re going with this. Rather hedonistically, he wants to hear you say it.

“We could cuddle.” You look back up at him with those big doe eyes, bracing yourself against the powder blue sink. His lips quirk softly.

He stretches his arms over his head and rests his hands on the top of the doorframe, his shirt raising up slightly to reveal the sandy hair on his abdomen. “Is that what you want? — You want me to stay?”

Smiling softly at the thought that just popped into your head, Bradley watches as you giggle to yourself and pick up another bottle of something. Squeezing the pipette, leaving two equal drops on each of your cheeks, you smooth the serum into your skin without looking at him. “Like we’re having a sleepover.”

He doesn’t need more information than that. He lets you get ready for bed while he makes sure Tank pees before locking the place up for the night. Then, he takes his clothes off. Laying on your side, facing the closet, your back is to him on purpose.

The metal bed frame creaks slightly, the mattress dipping the tiniest bit as he slips into bed. It’s soft, and your sheets make a real difference. Every time he has slept in this bed before has been a mess of old springs and that uncomfy headboard. He’s glad that you switched out the mattress.

Your leg brushes up against his first. The bottom of your foot presses into his shin as you pull the covers up to your face. “How do you like to cuddle?”

“Just c’mere.” It’s an invitation, but there’s really no need to respond. He’s already looping his arms around your midsection before you’ve even registered the word. He pulls you back against him, your bodies meeting in the middle of the bed. He’s surprised by how warm you are already.

His body heat is still a welcome addition.

“Is this good?” His open palm rests against your stomach, tucked halfway under your t-shirt, his thumb smoothing over the spot just below your bellybutton. His lips press gently your neck.

“Could you, like… squeeze me a little tighter?”

Rooster tightens his hold on you, pushing his leg forwards and slotting it between your thighs. Wrapped in his thick arms, his face tucked into the curve of your neck, you should be feeling lighter already, settling off into unconsciousness. There’s just too much happening for that.

His heart beating steadily against your back, his thumb tucked into your shirt just the tiniest bit, stroking at your stomach, and his meaty thigh slotted between your legs. His lips are pressed right up against the skin of your neck, not doing anything, just resting there.

Rooster feels you shift a little and gives you the room to find the comfort that you need. Then, he feels your hand searching for his through the darkness. Finding the hand that’s on your stomach, your fingers curl between his.

Taking his hand, you slide it upwards, venturing further under the fabric of your oversized sleep shirt. Rooster peeks one eye open as you guide his palm up and over your breast. Catching the hint, Rooster squeezes his palm softly over the supple skin. Brushing the pad of his thumb over your soft nipple, pinching it between his thumb and index, your thighs squeeze together around his.

He closes his eyes once more, settling down like he’s going to sleep, still gently caressing your breast under his warm hand. It’s nice, feeling him touch you, feeling his weight pressing into your back and into the mattress. It’s just not enough.

His thumb swipes over your nipple again, feeling it harden against his digit this time. He traces the pebbled texture of the sensitive skin without opening his eyes. Figuring that it’ll probably be bothering you too much for you to sleep, he settles for just holding your breast in his hand as he tries to direct himself towards unconsciousness. There’s not a chance.

He’s just going to have to wait for you to fall asleep so that he can turn his mind to something other than how bad he wants you.

Swallowing softly, your fingers curl between his once again. Rooster lets you guide his hand away, thinking that he must have been bothering you, quickly realizing that that was not the case.

He slips his hand out of your hold and grabs your hip, tugging you onto your back swiftly. Your breath catches in your throat at how close he is, leaning over you, eyes searching over your face.

“I feel like I never know what’s going through your head.” He admits gently, the swell of his warm palm resting on your stomach, having brushed your sleep shirt up slightly.

Glancing down, you smooth your fingers over the top of his hand, examining the difference in size between the two of you. Rooster swears he almost feels the breath get knocked out of him when you finally look at him again.

“You want to know?” Your voice is so quiet that he wouldn’t be able to hear you if there was any other sound in the apartment right now. He nods back at you, curling his fingers around your waist. You lift your head just a little, your lips are soft and taste of peppermint when you kiss him.

Turning so that he can cover your body with his, Bradley presses his weight into you. His heavy palm cups your jaw as he takes control of the kiss. The way your mouth moves, the pace, he’s keeping it all in check.

“Are you wet right now?” Bradley murmurs against your lips, thumb stroking over the bone at the curve of your jaw. Your skin flushes as he pulls back and waits for his answer. Jett never asked this. Luke Hodge from second period English lit had never asked this.

“Mhm.”

Bradley’s lips quirk upwards. It’s torn between him smirking at you and a real smile. The languid amusement coats his features, but there’s something in those deep brown eyes that tells you he’s happy with your shy, little response.

“Mhm? — That’s all I get?” Rooster’s palm smooths over your stomach and curls around your hip, squeezing the joint softly in his calloused hand. More warmth. Your gaze flitters up and you consider cracking the window behind your bed.

Swallowing softly, it’s unintentional but you’re giving him that deer in headlights look again. Rooster closes the gap between the two of you and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. When he pulls back, a soft chuckle slips his lips and he rests his forehead against your shoulder.

Immediate recoil. He feels you tense up under him. The embarrassment floods you like a chill and you move to pull back.

“Baby, baby, no,” Wrapping both of his thick arms around your waist and pulling you into him, you couldn’t leave if you tried. Rooster kisses the corner of your mouth softly. “I’m not laughing at you.”

He slots his thigh between yours and guides you onto your back with little resistance, leaning over you. “I just… Don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?” You ask quietly.

“You suck dick like it’s your day job and then, when it’s your turn, you turn into a little church mouse. — What’s with that?” His hand wanders as he speaks, fingers splayed so that he can touch as much of you at once. Trailing your abdomen, your waist, grazing over the soft tissue at the side of your breast without daring to touch is as boldly as you had allowed him to earlier.

It���s never really been your turn. There’s no out loud exchange, but the look on your face tells Bradley what he needs to know. He feels your hips shift, your core grazing his thigh softly as you squirm under his gaze.

“You want me to get you off?” His grip tightens on your hip and he rocks his hips forwards just slightly. Just to let you feel exactly how hard he is at the thought. Glancing down between your body and his, your decision is made whilst the rational side of your brain is still pleading its case.

“Mhm.”

Bradley smirks amusedly. He kisses you softly, hand trailing under your shirt to knead over your breast. Pushing the fabric of your loose fitted t-shirt up and out of his way, his lips attach to your skin. Languid kisses, open-mouthed and tender as his strong palms brace at your hips, keeping you in place for him. His mouth works along your abdomen, nipping softly at the underside of your breath and feeling you careen into him.

“Sit up.” You obey him blindly, sitting up long enough for him to quickly discard your too-big, faded shirt and leave you in a much more vulnerable state. “God, Bambi.”

His hands roam your torso like he can’t possibly touch enough of you at once, walking the line of having a firm touch and a gentle hand. Letting you know his strength and reminding you that you’re at the mercy of it, all while dusting a featherlight touch over the most sensitive parts of your upper body.

As with his hands, his mouth needs to be everywhere at once and it half feels like he has mastered the ability to make that possible. Eyes screwed closed, you deny yourself the sight of him, knowing that it’ll just make your nerves surge, and there’s no way you want to let yourself ruin this.

Four senses remaining. Your hands smooth over the flexing muscles in his shoulders as his tongue trails a circle around your nipple before he commits to taking it into his mouth. Warm, so warm, a flush of adrenaline running through him. The feeling of that under your fingertips.

The peppermint on your tongue, reminding you that you should just be platonically sleeping beside him right now. Your bedtime ritual pales in comparison to this.

The soft groan he makes as his hand paws at your other breast, reverberating in your ears and carrying shockwaves along your synapses. Excitement pooling between your legs at how deep and gravelly he sounds when he moans.

The cologne from before the bar. Inhaling it in the car as you traced the veins on his arm. Intoxicated by it when you had settled between his thighs the other day.

You lift your hips from the mattress and push them down against his thigh. His muscled appendage provides little relief, but you’re still chasing what it gives you. Your underwear presses into your core with each rock, soaked and catching on your excitement.

“All I got was an ‘mhm’,” Bradley muses softly, trailing his nose along the middle of your torso, pressing his lips softly to your navel. His hand slips between your legs without warning and cups your over your underwear. “This fucking soaked, and all I got was a little ‘mhm’.”

Nudging your underwear swiftly to the side, he dips his middle and index finger between your folds and gathers your excitement on the digits. Another deep groan as he looks down at the coating on his fingers.

He palms a hand over the tent in his boxers, kissing your hip bruisingly. “You’re gonna let me taste you, right, baby?”

“Okay.” You breathe out, needing your vision back. Heart pounding as you stare at the ceiling.

“Okay? — Is that all I get?”

“Please.” You whimper softly. Anything to settle the throbbing between your legs, anything to make you feel less restless. Bradley hooks your thigh over his shoulder and presses his mouth hungrily to your thigh. You careen into his kiss as it bruises the sensitive skin, pressing the heel of your foot into his shoulder for leverage.

Grabbing your hips, Bradley manhandles you into place, pressing you into the mattress and keeping you there. He grabs your underwear and tugs it down your legs, pulling back just to get it off your ankles and then settling back into back.

At first, he’s not where you need him at all. Tongue teasing between your folds, pressing tender chaste kisses to your pelvic bone. Ignoring the dripping mess between your legs until he’s satisfied with how your hips buck in desperation for him.

He lifts his gaze, brown eyes on you as he delves his tongue into your soaking core. His fingers press tighter into your hips, keeping you down on the mattress as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, gathering your juices on his tongue. He spreads it upwards and lubricates your clit with a mixture of his spit and your own juices.

“O-Oh, fuck.”

Before this second in time, you were so sure that Jett had made you cum. Orgasms with other people just weren’t as intense because there were so many other things happening. Bradley’s tongue could be tracing some foreign alphabet on the most sensitive part of your body for all you know. All that you do know for certain, is that you can’t let him stop.

Luckily, he has no intention of that. He’s been thinking about this since the day you gave him head and then denied his reciprocation.

Sucking, licking, alternating between pressure and gentle flicks of his tongue, he has your back arching away from the pretty flowers on your sheets. Your fingers slide into his hair without thought, tangling into his curls, keeping his head exactly where you need it the most.

Rooster sinks his middle finger into you first, groaning as he rocks his hips into the mattress in search of relief. Your walls squeeze his finger as he curls it into that spongy part that has you yelping in surprise.

Worked up enough that you can take his index finger with little resistance, Rooster’s brain damn near short circuits at how well you hug the digits. Even with the diminished capacity, his mission never once falters. His deep groans send shocks through your core and each curl his fingers has you rocking your hips against his tongue for more.

“Fuck, stop - Rooster — stop,” You pant out, voice strained, clawing at the sheets for purchase as your other hand tugs at his hair. “Feels… weird.”

“Just cum, it’s alright,” He mouths desperately along your thighs, stopping when you ask him to but not really wanting to pause long enough for your high to ebb away. “Trust me. Just let it happen, relax.”

You try to exhale slowly and do what he says, but then his mouth is on you again and you squeak at the feeling. You tug harshly at his roots and feel him moan, the vibrations and the tickle of his dampened moustache on your clit and his fingers fucking into you, it’s all too much.

The tightness in your stomach winds until it feels like a rubber band about to snap. And then, it does snap. You jolt against him, lips parted, brows furrowed, the sound caught in your throat. His mouth slows, but remains on the same pattern, sending aftershocks through your already trembling system.

“Fuck,” That image is never going to leave his head. He pulls his fingers from you and kisses tenderly across your hip. “How was that?”

Searching for words, any kind of intelligent conversation that you might be able to string together, it’s a lost cause. Panting, a soft sound of whimpered contentment slips your lips. “Mhm.”

He wipes his mouth and lays down against the pillows. “Gonna cuddle you how I like it normally. Alright?”

“Oh - b-but, wait.” You realise, hand trying to find which way is sound in your hazy mind, stumbling across the waistband of his boxers just by chance.

Rooster grabs your hand and pulls you closer, he manhandles you across the mattress so that you’re laying half on his chest. “This is so comfy.”

You hum in agreement, his arms tucked around your naked form, your cheek smushed up against his thick pectoral muscle.

“Should let me do that more often.” He muses quietly. You nod against his chest.

…

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