#she wasn't in an abusive relationship and she was a good guy and had a successful psyciatric practice and a girlfriend and got to have fun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpsghostie · 10 months

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Three's a Crowd

bro I have no words for what I've just written it's pure filth I can't stop wont stop I need them internally

I'm not sorry for this

Summary: a situationship between your lieutenant and your colonel that leads to obscene measures.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader x König, unprotected piv and dp sex, kinda cuckold (?, light spanking, dacryphilia, praising/humiliating, lots of pet names, breeding kink, choking, no use of y/n

masterlist

NSFW under the cut

You didn't know exactly how, but you ended up in a situationship between the colonel and your lieutenant, none of them knowing about each other.

Ghost was never the jealous type, at least that's what he said. But some things changed when he heard your voice when he was passing in front of König's room.

"Scheiße, baby." He moaned. It wasn't so loud, but since Ghost had keen senses and was practically merging his ear with the door, it was loud enough for him to hear. He was startled, how could you do this?

For a brief moment, he felt insecure. Was he not enough for you? That's why you had to find someone else to give you pleasure? But you've always told him how it was good, how he fucked you just the way you liked it.

Lieutenant 'not the jealous type' Ghost.

Ironical.

But that feeling changed when he was pinning your face to the mattress, ass up, his cock abusing your hole. He held his phone up, filming how your ass jiggled when he thrusted hard inside you. Your arms were tied behind your back with his belt, and he held them before pulling out and jerking himself off, coming on your ass, cum dripping down your big lips.

And, well, that video was 'accidentally' sent to König's e-mail.

She lets me cum inside.

Ghost could not fucking believe the answer he read on the phone. He expected König to back off, but apparently König had the same expectations.

He couldn't confront you, and the idea of sharing you with his superior was slowly driving him nuts. You noticed he started fucking you rougher, he'd shoot videos of you two having sex saying he needed those to remind him of you. Of course it was weird at first, but you could trust him, or so you thought.

On the other side, König was also a bit different, the man was once calm, always taking his time with you, but he started to enjoy being meaner. He'd either deny or overstimulate you until you cried on his girthy and long dick hitting your cervix.

One day, while gagging on König's dick, you noticed him eyeing the locked phone on the bed, beside him. Without stopping, you reached for it and opened the camera, placing it on his large palm. He looks down at you, confused, and you give him a cock drunk smile. He didn't want to ask to film you, so this was pretty much convenient for him.

That was the first video he sent to Ghost in response to him fucking you senseless.

He was speechless. His cocky demeanor vanished as he tried to come up with a snarky response. Nothing could've prepared him to see you drooling on another cock. Unintentionally, the sight of you sucking another guy's dick made him hard. He had to excuse himself out of the meeting because he had a boner. It was funny, he felt like a teen.

But you noticed how both of them were different towards you and each other. They weren't used to talking before, and now it seemed like they'd punch each other's faces whenever they met in common rooms. König assigned difficult tasks towards Ghost and the thought of them knowing about your situationship terrified you once it crossed your mind.

You thought about confronting them, explaining the whole situation. They were both excellent in bed and they provided you with different feelings. König was soft and caring and Ghost was… well, Ghost. But you knew you could lose them two, even though you didn't have an established relationship with them.

One day, the task force is all drinking together, playing truth or dare. Gaz is dared to do something obscene, and he playfully moans like a girl.

Aye, sounds like the lad in König's room.

You choke, spitting the whiskey coke out, the soda gets out from your nose and your eyes get teary from the gas. They all get quiet when they look at you and you fake a laugh, of course Soap had to say that.

They soon forgot about the awkwardness and went back to the game, but Ghost was eyeing you like a prey. You purposefully avoided them since you all joined for the party, and he and König sat on opposite sides from each other. You sat in between Price and Gaz, you all in a weird circle.

Meeting room. Now.

Your phone buzzed as you received a message from your Lieutenant. You read it from the notifications and looked up, but he was already gone in the darkness. You come up with an excuse and get out of the common area.

When you walked in, the phantom was standing right across the table, you could only see a glimpse of his eyes. The lights were off, but the room was lit when he started typing the digits of his phone password. He slowly stands up and walks towards you, your legs already trembling with fear. The phone is left on the table right in front of you, displaying a video of your fucked out face while sucking a dick very different from his.

"Simon, I can expl-" you try to say, but you're cut off as he grabs a fistful of your hair and buries your face on the cold wooden surface of the table.

"Y'know why I brought you here?" He asks, holding your wrists behind your back. "So everyone can see who you belong to." You feel him restraining your hands with one of his hands, and the spare one unfastened his belt and pulled his pants down just enough to expose his already hard dick.

At this moment, you thank yourself for wearing sweatpants, because they were easily pulled down from your body. He lifted his mask and spat on your pussy, then entered you with his full length, not giving you time to get used to his size.

He fucked you desperately, grabbing your hair again, making you look at the looping video on the screen of his phone.

"You're such a fucking little slut." He groaned. "You're so desperate you need two fat cocks?" You felt ashamed, your face burning, not knowing if it was from the whiskey or the embarrassment. The door made a locking sound and you jolted, but Ghost's grip didn't let you give a look. "Like what you see here, Colonel?" He asks in between breaths, you squirm and try to move but he holds you in place. Soon there was a figure across from you, sitting on the empty chair and manspreading.

"If you fucked her good enough she wouldn't come to me." He said in that thick German accent.

"You're really petty for a second option." Ghost holds your throat from behind, choking you and forcing you to look at König. You can see König's dick getting hard, it wasn't easy for him to mask that due to his size. He got up and slowly walked around the table to get to you.

"How does he feel, schatz?" König grabs you by the chin, blue orbits finding its way into your soul. You couldn't even babble an answer, Ghost was fucking you brainless. Your eyes could only look back to König and your head could only nod. He lifts a bit of his hood and gives you a kiss, his lips containing the warmth you needed to melt.

"Kneel." Ghost demands you as he pulls out. You do as you're told, but in order to comfortably be on your knees, you pull your pants back up. They don't seem to care. König takes his belt off and folds it, running it from your chest to your chin, lifting your head.

"Be a good girl, ya?" He says as he pushes his pants down, his dick bouncing up as he releases from the boxers. Without even noticing, your mouth was already open and your tongue was laying flat. König brushed his pinkish, leaking tip on your lips and tongue, the familiar salty taste of his precum invading your senses. He pushes it in your mouth, fucking it slowly. Your hand travels to Ghost's dick and jerks him off as he watches. "Like what you see, Lieutenant?" König chuckles.

Ghost was going to give him a sarcastic response, but his head fell back when you started to suck him off, your hand now on König. As you expected, Ghost wasn't so gentle, so his hand grabbed your hair and pushed your throat down his length. You soon became a drooling mess, taking turns on each throbbing cock in front of you.

Your jaw became sore, taking just one of them was already hard enough. You felt a pressure against your pussy and looked down, König's boot was grinding against you. You groan, sinking your weight on his foot. The more you gagged around them, the more he'd move.

"Didn't I tell you were just a fucking whore?" Ghost pulled from your mouth and tapped his cock on your tear stained cheeks. "Getting off his foot, huh? So desperate." As if it was possible for you to get any wetter, you felt another wave of arousal moisten your panties.

He got you up and almost dragged you to the sofa in the corner of the room. König followed just behind. Ghost sat down and made you kneel in front of him, and König positioned himself behind you, large palms roaming your small body and gently pulling your pants down again. He aligned his shaft with your soaked pussy and in one long thrust he pushed it deep inside you.

"Just so… fucking tight." You hear him whimper as he bottoms out. Your eyes are locked with the masked man in front of you, that's slowly jerking himself off at the sight of you being filled by someone else. "Gonna have to tear this pretty pussy apart." You clench around him and he starts fucking you.

Ghost gently pulls your face closer and lifts his mask, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips. You could only moan, in hope no one else could hear it. Your lips were now connected on Ghost's member, eagerly sucking him off. Your moans sent vibrations down his skin and he groaned whenever you gagged.

König's cock was buried deep down your walls, he felt an incessant need to slam his hips into yours and make you a moaning mess, so he held your hips in place as he thrusted hard into you. One of his hands travelled down to your clit and started rubbing circles, easily making you orgasm around him. He felt his climax getting closer, but he didn't want this moment to end just as quick. When his pace became erratic, he pulled out, slapping your ass.

He got up and sat down beside Ghost, who got up and pulled you to his arms, holding you firmly in the air. Your legs were pushed to your chest, the back of your knees held by his veiny forearms. He entered your used hole and started slow, but it didn't last long and he was soon bouncing you up and down his length.

König watched as you took Ghost entirely, thinking about how tight you'd feel with another cock inside you. He gets up and walks behind you, brushing his tip on you.

"Do you think she can handle?" König asks with genuine concern.

"She'll take it and thank you for it, isn't that right, bunny?" Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your face buried in his neck. You manage a small nod before feeling another monstrous cock entering your abused hole.

How that fit was a story for another day, but your pussy was happy to be filled by two men. The pain started to go away and you moved a bit to signal them to go. They managed to keep the same pace for a while. König let you lay back on his chest as Ghost held your legs, they pushed deep down into your core.

"Look at you, taking both of us." Ghost mumbles. "Such an obedient little pet."

"Such a good girl, liebe." König moans in your ear.

They kept fucking you until you felt empty again. Emptier than ever. Your pants were taken away from your body and König pulled you on top of him as he sat down on the couch, already making you sit on his shaft. Ghost came behind you and you felt a humid finger entering your tight little hole.

"Simon-" you moan.

"Shut up." He puts another finger in.

"Too much."

"You've taken it before and you're gonna take it again like the good slut you are, understood?" You slowed down on König and felt another finger inside of you, stretching your butthole. You couldn't help but whimper at the way he was using you. "Don't stop fucking her." König holds your hips and starts thrusting harder.

Ghost replaced his fingers with his aching dick and you've never felt so good, so filled. He waited a minute before moving, giving you a bit to adjust. But goddamn it you were tight.

As soon as the pain went away, he started to move, gradually going faster. König was a whimpering mess below you, moaning german praises in your ear. In little to no time, you found yourself being railed once again.

"Can't take much more." König whimpered, digging his nails on your hips. Ghost landed a sharp slap to your ass and towered over you to reach for your clit, he stimulated you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to memorize your scent.

Your legs trembled as you felt your high approaching faster and faster, and you fall on König's chest, trying to muffle your loud moans.

"That's right, baby, be a good girl and come for us." König holds you close, reaching a new spot. That's what it took for you to squirt all over their dicks. Crying at the non stopping thrusts.

"Always have to leave a mess, huh?" You're still squirming as you hear Ghost say. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you cry."

König also feels his orgasm approaching and with a few more thrusts he can't hold it anymore.

"Gonna fill your cunt with my cum." He moans, holding your chin to look at him. He comes inside of you, but he doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. He keeps on slamming his dick inside your cervix and pushing his cum inside you, making the tears fall out of your eyes. He becomes a whimpering mess as he overstimulates his dick in your pussy.

Ghost also can't stop thinking about how good you feel, and how bad he needs to cum inside you. He slips a hand in front of your body and squeezes your breasts. It was enough to electrify his body and sent shivers down his spine. With just a few more erratic thrusts, he spills his seeds in your hole. He pulls out, kissing your back through his mask. König finally pulls out too, his dick red from the overstimulation. You collapse on his chest, losing consciousness.

"Truce?" He asks Ghost, who's getting dressed.

"Truce."

#ghost cod #könig cod #ghost mwii #cod smut #ghost smut #könig smut #mwii smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #könig mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw2 smut #ghost könig smut #cod fanfic

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bubblebbg · 11 months

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would you be able to do a Miguel x f!reader where the reader is a civilian who's the sunshine to his grumpy? She's pretty much the definition of the quote "the violence it took to be this kind". She had an abusive childhood, and unfortunately she's currently up in an abusive relationship, she tries really hard to hide her pain with warmth and laughter, hiding her bruises with long sleeves in the summer and concealer.

This is my first request, I'm so happy! I wasn't really comfortable writing the physical abuse part (I don't want to misrepresent this issue) , so I've made it to where the reader is in an unhappy relationship instead. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted. :)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞.

Miguel O'Hara x reader

To him, you're one of those people that deserves better, deserves the best. Today especially, that's what you should be getting. If Miguel could, he'd hand you worlds on a silver platter. But he can't. Not with your boyfriend around to stop him.

Part 2

"Your boyfriend is the biggest asshole I've ever met. Come on, you have to know this by now." Miguel has pulled you to the balcony of your apartment and away from the music and festivities, his jaw clenched with anger as he seethes. He's never liked your boyfriend; there's you, the sweet, kind woman who's always considerate, endlessly patient, practically saintly in nature. And then there's your boyfriend, some scum of the earth who's only ever been callous and cold during your interactions. Miguel has tried and tried and tried to keep his mouth shut about it, but the way your smile faltered as you explained that he couldn't take off work to be at your birthday party is his last straw. "Seriously, today of all day's he has to work? Say the word and I'm sending that douchebag flying through a wall-"

"Miguel, stop it. It's fine, he's just a busy guy you know? And I'm sure you throw enough people around already." You chuckle, but the sadness doesn't quite leave your eyes. You sip some of the champagne in your glass, sighing as you let the alcohol numb some of your senses. Looking out at the cityscape, arms folded on the railing. He really wishes you knew how much you deserve, and the selfish part of him wants to be the one to give that to you.

When you catch him staring at you, at the way the lights of the city glow on your face, he turns forward, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I just don't get it is all. You could have anyone you wanted, why him? Hell, you're better off alone than with him. If I could make the decisions for you, he would've been gone a long time ago."

You step closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and the champagne drained from your glass. "I know you're concerned about me, but in the end these decisions are mine to make. I'll talk to him after the party. Until then, how's everything at work? Still got a lot on your hands?"

A smile plays at his lips, feeling a bit warm from the touch. "Hey, don't go changing the subject on me. We need to talk about this."

"You change the subject on me all of the time! Humor me on my birthday, please." He rolls his eyes because he can't believe that you'd play the birthday card on him, but he also knows he can never say no to you. Not with the way you look at him. So he puts an arm around your shoulders and lets a breath out his nose.

"Still stressful, but not so bad. I guess your whole 'have meetings to help people with their mission strategy instead of just yelling at them' plan has been working." You laugh at that, eyes crinkling as you lean more into him. You look good like this, the cheery person you usually are, not the one being let down by their partner. "See? And how hard was that? If I had spider powers like you, I'd be the ultimate diplomatic leader and badass." He can't stop the laughter that bubbles up in his chest when you punch and kick the air to emphasize your badassery.

"Your form is terrible," he smirks, "You'd be dead in seconds."

"And if it weren't for me, every spider ever would have quit because of your nagging."

"Right, right, whatever makes you feel better, civilian."

This is how it's supposed to be, the way it was before you decided to date this guy. It was always you and Miguel before: him carrying all of your grocery bags as you raved about some new hobby, you and him on the roof of your apartment building, him pointing out flaws in a movie at the theater while you ate all the popcorn, him begrudgingly pushing you on a park swing despite his assertations that you were in fact too old to still do this. It hits him all at once. He's missed you. Your absence leaves gaps in his life that no one else can fill.

"Hey," he mumbles, "I know you said you didn't want any gifts, but I got you something. Happy birthday."

Your eyes widen as he timidly hands you a rectangular box, his gaze turned to the city and a light blush on his face. He watches through the corner of his eyes as you open it. Inside is a silver necklace with a lily-of-the-valley preserved in resin, the flower you told him about that grew around your childhood home. Your palm comes to cover your mouth and tears well up in your eyes at the considerate nature of his gift. (That's Miguel, always remembering the details of things you say. When was the last time your boyfriend did that again?) Miguel turns to face you with an anxious expression. "Do you not like it? I left the receipt in there, you can return it and use the money on-"

"No, no, no, it's beautiful," you smile, turning and lifting the hair from your neck, "Could you please put it on me?"

He sighs in relief, taking the necklace and clasping it gently around your neck. As soon as he's done you jump into his arms with a delighted giggle, beaming with joy. He lets himself hug you back for a few more seconds before setting you down. Seeing you like this has his heart racing as he's filled with the courage to say it, to tell you what you mean to him. He opens his mouth to speak and -

Someone shouts through the sliding doors of the balcony, "Hey, where have you been? Get inside, your boyfriend just got here!"

And just like that, the courage is gone, his mouth closing to a slight frown. As he's preparing to go back in and stomach the sight of you with that man, he sees you climbing the steps of the fire escape and stops at the door.

"What are you doing?"

You stop, turning to look at him with the breeze at your back and the moon shining on you. You offer your hand to him.

"Come on, let's go. We can sit on the rooftop like we used to."

He pauses, taking a look at the party inside. Then he takes your hand and you're leading him up like you used to, and everything that was out of place in him shifts back to fit. He smiles at how small and smooth your hand is in his larger, rough one. Yeah, he thinks.

This is how it's meant to be.

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x reader #astv #beyond the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse

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bones4thecats · 3 months

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When Their S/O Meets Their Family

Type of Writing: #4 - Poll Result Characters: Manjiro Sano, Mitsuya Takashi, Souya Kawata, and Hakkai Shiba Family: Sister (M.S.), Mother and Sisters (M.T.), Brother (S.K.), and Sister (H.S.) Name: When Their S/O Meets Their Family Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: For Hakkai's part, it only features Yuzuha meeting the reader because of how Taiju is an abusive a-hole to them. Anyways, have fun reading this!

Slight spoilers for: Black Dragons Arc

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🍡 Mikey is very close with his family, and everyone who has ever met him knows this

🍡 When you first met Mikey, he no doubt wanted you to meet his sister, Emma, because he knew that she would like talking to his brother's S/O

🍡 He introduced you guys to one another a couple weeks after your relationship began, in which he just rode up to your house and asked you straight-up if you wanted to meet someone important to him

🍡 You hopped on his bike, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and rode with him from your home to his to meet this person

🍡 Mikey has told you all kinds of stories about his family, from his late older brother Shinichiro to his younger sister Emma

🍡 His bike came to a stop in front of a Dojo, it was his family's, the same one that he was raised in and technically adopted his sister, Emma

🍡 He grabbed your hand and dragged you through the doors, announcing his and your arrival loudly for someone to hear

" Emma! You here? " " Yeah, oh! Who's your friend, Mikey? Is this your S/O? "

🍡 A youthful girl walked out from around the corner of the hallway and looked into the Dojo-themed room, her yellow eyes stared into your (E/C) eyes and she smiled

🍡 Introducing herself, you learned that this was Emma Sano, Mikey's younger half-sister, specifically her father's mistress' child

🍡 Unfortunately for Mikey, you and Emma bonded so much that you were pushing Mikey's affections down a peg, meaning you were ignoring him slightly, prompting him to start pouting

🍡 Why was his family such good conversationalists?

🪡 You have heard millions upon millions of stories of Mitsuya's younger sisters, Luna and Mana, and his mother

🪡 He has wanted you to meet them for so long, but, since his mother worked late and normally wasn't given many breaks from work, he hasn't had any time to actually set up a meeting

🪡 Both thankfully and not thankfully, his mother was given time off, only because she had gotten sick

🪡 Mitsuya was putting in a lot of effort to helping his mother get better fast, so, when you called and he explained the situation, he was shocked when you said you were coming over with some soup

🪡 He tried to protest, claiming he didn't want you getting sick, but, you protested his protests (omg i've never typed that word that much) and you hung up after telling him you'd be there later that day

🪡 Mitsuya sighed and and laid the phone down, you really were a stubborn person when it came to things like this

🪡 When he heard the sound of his sisters yelling that a person was at the door, he got up from the kitchen stove, where he had a tea kettle and opened the door

🪡 You held out a tupperware filled with a reddish-orange thick liquid, he was guessing it was the soup you had made, probably tomato

" Love, you really didn't have to do this. " " Well, I can't have my future mother-in-law staying sick for long, now can I? "

🪡 Your boyfriend directed you to his mother's room while his sisters played in the living room, and when his mother saw you, she smiled and laughed, teasing her son

🪡 He smiled lightly as he handed her a spoon and laid the smooth-vegetable soup in her hands, before wishing her health to reach her and leaving the room with your boyfriend

🪡 This may have not been the most ideal way for you to meet his family, but it did remind him of why he loved you, you're an amazing person with an amazing heart

💢 If you met Angry, you no doubt were destined to meet his twin brother, Nahoya, or Smiley

💢 Angry has wanted you to meet his brother for a while, but, his brother could be quite a lot to take at once, and he understood that, he grew up with him for Pete's sake

💢 When you called his home one day and Smiley picked up, he pretended to be his twin brother, since he obviously wasn't gonna step up to have you meet him anytime soon

💢 He snickered once you hung up, bidding goodbye, and he began to start laughing, though he attempted to hold it in, his brother was in the next room after all

" Who was that? " " Oh, just a spam. I decided to prank the scammer, it was fun! "

💢 Angry was relaxing on the sofa, messing around with a plush you had gotten him a few days prior, by what he knew, they weren't expecting any guests, especially ones after 5:00pm

💢 When he opened the door and saw you standing there, his eyes widened and he cocked and eyebrow, asking why you showed up unannounced, and when you replied with how he asked you to come over for dinner that night, he connected the dots

" That must have been Nahoya, my brother... " " Oh! Now I'm embarrassed, I can't even tell my boyfriend apart from his brother. " " Not by voice, no, but, you'll definitely tell us apart by our physical features... "

💢 Nahoya jumped out from behind the corner and hugged you, saying how happy he was that he could finally meet the person that his brother raved about when healing or resting

💢 This was gonna be a long night...

☄️ I'm gonna layer this on very thickly, he does not want you to meet his older brother, he's a sadistic man by heart, and he doesn't need you to suffer from his cruelty

☄️ Hakkai wanted you to meet his sister, yes, but, due to your busy schedules, he couldn't seem to find the perfect time where Taiju and Yuzuha were apart

☄️ So, whenever you guys had met up to hang out, he normally led you to your home and away from his, he didn't need any trouble now

☄️ But, when you came to his house unannounced, he froze in place

☄️ Oh God, why were you here now?! Taiju wasn't in the brightest moods by what Yuzuha told him, and he didn't need to risk your safety like this!

" Hakkai! Who's at the damn door?! It's takin' you forever! "

☄️ You cocked and eyebrow as he yelled out to the male how it was someone he needed to speak to outside for a few minutes

☄️ He ushered you back outside the doorway and stood with you outside his home, and he sighed, knowing you were gonna ask him a ton of questions on what was going on

☄️ Hakkai slightly teared up as you asked what was happening, and, when he just told you that they had some 'familial bonds' that were kinda rusted over, you groaned, knowing he was lying

☄️ Instead of pushing salt into the wound, you hugged him, allowing him to sigh and wipe his tears away as the door opened

☄️ He swung around to shield you as a young girl walked out, she had light-orange hair and piercing amber eyes, and when she saw you she tilted her head

" Who are you exactly? " " I'm- " " This is the person I've been telling you about, Yuzuha. Y/N, this is my older sister, Yuzuha, and this is my S/O, Y/N L/N. "

☄️ Yuzuha smiled and held her hand out for you to shake, saying how she figured he had an S/O with how cheery he was whenever he hung up the phone sometimes

☄️ Hakkai got flustered and tried hiding his face as you and Yuzuha exchanged stories about Hakkai being a dork as he mumbled about how you guys were 'ganging up on him'

#Tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Rev #Tokyo Manji Gang #Toman #Tokyo Revengers x Reader #Tokyo Rev x Reader #Tokyo Manji Gang x Reader #Toman x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #Manjiro Sano #Manjiro Sano x Reader #Mitsuya Takashi #Mitsuya Takashi x Reader #Souya Kawata #Souya Kawata x Reader #Hakkai Shiba #Hakkai Shiba x Reader

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 5 months

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*NSFW* The Wishing Hole (Yandere x GN!Reader)

Warning!! This is not a romance, read at your own risk CW: LONG, Dead Dove, abuse, murder, trauma, manipulation, masturbation, mutilation, unhealthy relationships, obsession

"Have you heard about the hole?"

Part I

"It's right over here!" Miranda theater-whispered to her friends as she led them through the black woods. Their flashlights bobbed in the darkness, the only light visible to the trio of twelve year olds as they trekked through the thicket. (Reader) gripped onto their envelope tightly, fearful of leaving sweat marks on it.

They had been staying the night at Brian's house when Miranda brought up the hole. A local urban legend by that point, the story of a hole that granted wishes. Brian had chastised Miranda for believing a story so stupid, but still followed her and (Reader) when they snuck out to grant their wishes.

"How do you know where it is?" He nervously hissed.

"Abby's sister Rebecca has a friend who found it. Over here." Miranda spoke as though it should have been obvious why she knew where it was.

(Reader) could do nothing but hope. They hoped hard, over and over again, wrinkling the papers in their fist as the yellow light led them to their future. All they could do was beg the universe to grant their wish. For the hole to be real.

The trees thinned and opened, revealing a small clearing with a very deep hole dug out of the earth. It was a normal looking hole, but in the dark of a moonless night to a group of children, it was ominous.

Their muddy boots all stopped a good foot away from the edge. The ground didn't look stable.

After taking a shaky breath, Miranda threw her envelope into the hole, squeezing her eyes shut as she focused all her energy on the wish written inside the letter she tossed. Brian thought about arguing, calling out his friends for littering, but instead copied Miranda, throwing his wish in as well. (Reader) felt adrenaline shoot to their finger tips as the anxiety tried to rip through their veins and escape their skin. Their packet was thicker than either of their friends', and fell harder as they chucked it in with all their strength.

The only future (Reader) wanted was nearly impossible. It would take divine intervention to get that happiness. "What did you wish for?" Miranda asked Brian behind (Reader).

"I want to know what I want to do."

"That's it?"

"What'd you wish for?"

"A hot boyfriend, who's gonna love me, and marry me."

"Well, when you're trapped in a marriage with three kids, I'll be doing what I love every day."

Miranda groaned loudly, refusing to get into another argument with her best friend. She instead looked at (Reader) who was still focusing on the hole. "What did you wish for, (Reader)?"

Their eyes seemed to be seeing something the other two couldn't see. Large pupils fixated on nothing, still filled with enough anxiety to cripple an adult.

"Someone who loves me.."

"Ugh, not you too.." Brian's voice melted into the background, almost unintelligible in the dense air. The contents of the wish filled (Reader's) head to the point that nothing else could be heard.

• 15 years later •

Another failed date.

Dark rings permanently decorated the underneath of (Reader's) tired eyes. The perpetually single adult slid down against the wall, too exhausted to continue standing. There was nothing particularly wrong with the guy, but he just wasn't "the one" for (Reader). He was boring and awkward, rambling about his job and future plans, bragging about his hypothetical future fortune. Nothing he did was bad enough for (Reader) to guiltlessly label him a douche, but nothing about him was their type.

They pulled out their phone, looking at the dark haired man on their wallpaper for a second too long before opening up their messages with their date. (Reader) typed up a quick message to thank Rich for the date, but that they didn't see it going any further.

The phone was tossed to the side as (Reader) struggled to stand, grabbing a beer from their fridge as the phone began chiming from the linoleum. Texts rapidly coming in were ignored by (Reader) as they cracked open their first drink for the night.

His unread messages echoed through (Reader's) shoebox apartment.

The weary adult wondered how their therapist would react next week at their appointment. It wasn't realistic for an adult to fixate on a wish they had made as a child, but just like all those years ago, (Reader) knew deep in their bones that there was no happiness for them if they couldn't have that wish come true. Rich was attractive, in an average sort of way, with straight brown hair cut a little too short for the shape of his brow. He had nice lips, (Reader) thought, but couldn't imagine kissing them.

The beer tasted like lightly bitter water. Not a promising sign; it tasted like they would need something stronger. On the way to the living room (Reader) noticed their bedroom door had some dirt on the white paint, like someone had pushed it open with filthy hands.

(Reader) felt an anxious jolt to their system. A familiar pain they hadn't felt in a long time. They pushed open the door, timidly entering their own room like a stranger nervous to be caught. But the room was empty.

"So, how'd your date with Rich go?" Adam asked hopefully. The same trio of friends since primary school sat in their local diner. It was a monthly ritual, gathering for brunch to force themselves to keep in touch. They tried to hold the meeting every week, but with work scheduling it was impossible. Adam sat with his husband, Jon, across from Brian and (Reader). Everyone had changed so much as they got older, but that was to be expected. No one can stay a child forever.

(Reader) sighed before sipping on their milkshake. Adam knew exactly what that meant, and groaned, just as dramatically as when he was a child. His hair may be shorter, but some things stayed consistent.

"What was wrong with this guy?"

"Nothing!" (Reader) replied defensively. "He just... wasn't my type."

Brian pushed up his glasses. "Maybe you should lower your standards."

"Brian!"

"-I mean, it's good to have standards, obviously, but people are real people, not characters in a book. No one is going to match your description of a perfect partner, because people aren't perfect, ya know?"

(Reader) stole a glance at their phone, admiring the black haired man behind the time. "You can say that, because your wish already came true. Both of yours."

Both Brian and Adam looked ashamed and a little uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact and fixating on their meals. Jon almost went cross-eyed trying to understand what (Reader) was implying.

(Reader) stood, tossing a couple bills onto the table. "I have to go, I'll talk to you guys later."

"Okay, have a good day! Text me when you get home." Adam said warmly, hugging his dear friend tightly while trying to shape his face into a happier expression.

"I will. Bye."

Brian gave up a small side hug, grimacing.

Jon waited until (Reader) was out of sight before asking "Were they talking about that wish you guys made as kids?"

The bespectacled young man rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes."

"I know what Adam wished for, but what did you and (Reader) wish for?" When he mentioned Adam's wish, Adam rolled his eyes playfully and they nudged each other lightly. Their whole relationship was practically diabetic for Brian, who still after all these years didn't get the appeal in romance.

Brian adjusted his glasses again, clearing his throat. "I wanted to know what to do with my life." And he had found that calling. The summer before high school he discovered a YouTube channel centered around ornithology and sent him on a strange spiral of bird mania. His friends and family thought it was a temporary fixation that he would lose interest in after a year or so, but his newfound fascination guided him all the way through college, landing him in an animal husbandry profession taking care of cranes at (what Brian considered to be) a humane zoo. "(Reader) wished for someone to love them."

"Well, I believe there's someone for everyone. It takes some people longer to find 'the one' than it does for others, and (Reader) seems like a great person, so I'm sure they'll meet someone that fits their childhood ideal."

Although Jon meant well with his words he could see the discomfort on his husband's and Brian's faces, their eyes either focused on their drink or plate.

They never read (Reader's) wish.

But over the years the two friends had begun to piece together a picture of the kind of man (Reader) wanted.

It was a complete breach of trust, looking into a friend's past, going full internet stalker mode to investigate into the secrets (Reader) wouldn't divulge. And what they found...

Was a lot.

They didn't know how to open the conversation with their third musketeer, since the facts and speculations were all obtained without (Reader's) knowledge or permission, but if Brian and Adam were correct in their understanding of what (Reader's) wish was, they genuinely wanted to help (Reader).

They also knew where (Reader) was going. But even that was impossible to confess.

Because at that moment, (Reader) was in their car for their monthly four hour visit with the greatest man (Reader) had ever known. It was unfortunate scheduling, but (Reader) couldn't compromise the day for either party. Keeping in contact with their friends was important for their mental health (according to their therapist) but this meeting was more important to (Reader) than practically anything else in their life.

Metal fencing and high beige walls appeared through the trees like a fairy tale castle. Instead of an evil dragon guarding the entrance, however, there were armed guards. Still every bit of evil in (Reader's) eyes.

"Welcome back, Mx. (Reader)." The usual security officer greeted grimly. Before he could ask for identification, (Reader) already had it out. Although they had met many times throughout the past decade, it was still a formality required by law. The two filled out the necessary paperwork while only offering tight smiles. He opened the gate for (Reader) to drive in and park in the visitor's lot. (Reader) always felt the cameras on them whenever they entered this "castle".

Officers emptied (Reader's) pockets and scanned their body for metal. There would be no physical connection at all, but they still needed to take precautions.

(Reader) was led through the lifeless grey halls towards visitation. Each step made their heart race and fostered the smile on their lips. Approaching the room with squeaky broken stools and bulletproof glass relaxed their faux grin for a genuine tranquility. There were no other visitors at the time.

The stool creaked under (Reader) as they gently eased into the old thing, staring at the window. Shortly after they sat down, the man from their phone's wallpaper, now with more silver hair than black, shuffled in on the other side, smiling softly as he sat across from (Reader). They both grabbed the phones.

"Hi Dad."

His dark eyes with pupils so large that without direct light made them look black had deeply etched wrinkles decorating them that folded deeper as he smiled. When Donavon McElroy was arrested, the news outlets focused on his eyes like some kind of Kubrick film, fixating on how you could just see the evil in some people. It felt as though the only person in the entire country who could see how loving Donavon's eyes were was (Reader).

"Hey kiddo. I've missed you."

"I missed you too." There were only four hours of visitation allowed per month. "Have you been getting my letters?"

Greasy ringlets of hair tumbled to the side as he cocked his head. "They're still the highlight of each week." Donavon didn't blink often. Even though the lights always hurt his eyes, no matter how dim they were, he seemed like a mannequin, refusing to blink and miss a second of his precious child's face. "How have you been since our last visit? I know you said in your letters that you're still going to therapy, which is good, very good.. how's that going for you?"

(Reader) felt their smile dip a little. "Well, it's going. I don't really like my therapist, but I know it's just because I don't like what she has to say. Even if I change doctors, they'll still say the same things."

Donavon nodded understandingly. It was like that at first for him as well, receiving psychiatric treatment while in prison. "I didn't like being told that my line of thinking was.. wrong. I knew that logically my thinking was, of course, obviously wrong, but it didn't feel wrong, so having a.. professional tell me that was upsetting."

"But it's important that you continue with it. And I'm very proud of you for continuing with it."

(Reader) laughed. It was a sharp scoff of a laugh, but not spiteful. It filled their chest with hot lava to hear someone praise them for doing what they've been doing since they were ten years old. Because it was difficult. Even if (Reader) continuously told themselves that this was the bare minimum. It was still difficult.

"She has me out in the dating world." (Reader) slumped a little, only slightly enough that no one but Donavon could tell the change in their posture. "Which is.. not fun."

"It can be fun. Does that carnival still come? There used to be a traveling carnival, a pop up fair, that would set up in a parking lot of a small store in our home town, really cheap. That could be a fun first date. Tiny ferris wheel and gravitron. Elephant ears." The two adults smiled widely thinking about it, but neither of them were picturing it as a date. His smile melted when he realized this. "I wish I could have taken you there."

(Reader) imagined a different life, one where they were in his care instead of their mother's, eating pastries the size of their head and getting sick on possibly dangerous attractions in a small parking lot. Their mother never took them, but they knew which pop up fair he was talking about, riding past it on the bus many times in their life. "That sounds like it would have been fun.."

".. but like I said, dating can be fun. As long as your being safe." (Reader's) dad's smile bounced back. "What have you done so far that hasn't been fun?"

"Well, I went out for dinner. Guy named Rich. He was, uh, decent. Talked a lot. Mostly about his job, and goals."

"Sounds career focused, that's good."

"Eh.." They shrugged, eyes drifting.

"What was wrong with him?"

(Reader) sighed. "Nothing. He was.. competent. Seemed like a regular guy. He just.. wasn't my type."

Guilt began to crawl through the folds of Donavon's brain like bugs infesting his conscious. He knew it was all his fault. Everything. But if he said that out loud, (Reader) would deny it, argue and fight it. "Well, there are plenty of fish in the sea."

"There's also plenty of trash."

Donavon pointed a finger at his kid warningly. "There's also sunken treasure. Don't give up hope."

"I don't need someone to be happy.."

"That's true.. but something tells me that when you weren't actively dating around, you weren't being content with the single life, and that's why your therapist is having you go out there. That.. maybe you were still waiting around for something that you shouldn't have, instead of living life to the fullest while alone."

The two became uncomfortably silent. This happened nearly every month. "I just want someone who loves me."

Donavon swore he could cry at that moment. "I'm sorry for-"

"Don't apologize." (Reader) cut him off. "Don't apologize for being a great dad."

"I wasn't. I wasn't a great dad. I'm-"

"-don't-"

"-a monster, (Reader). Kiddo, please, just listen to me. I'm sorry for the things I've done. The way I went about.. I wasn't in my right mind.. what I put you through was not okay. It was not, and will never be okay." He leaned forward, wishing to break through the glass dividing them and hug his kid. "I'm so sorry."

(Reader) softly responded "You're the only person who ever loved me."

"And you deserve better than that."

'No', (Reader) thought, 'there is no better than that.'

"Let's change the subject, please." (Reader) closed their eyes, forcing away the tears. "We never have enough time, and I don't want to spend the entire day focusing on sad shit."

Donavon took a shaky breath. "Okay, kiddo.." he mulled over for a second what to talk about before cracking a smile, one wide enough to show off his missing canine. "Remember Eddy?"

"Your old bunk mate?"

"Yep."

"What about him?"

"He got stabbed."

The sentence was so short and sudden that it shocked (Reader) into snorting, bringing back their genuine smile. "What? When? What happened?"

From the door an older guard smiled sadly, away from view. Donavon was liked by nearly everyone, both by the guards and the other prisoners. It was always a shame, getting to know someone who was supposed to be an evil bastard, and learning that they were just a great man who needed help. Plenty of the older guards understood that (Reader) would forever look at them with disgust and mildly veiled hatred. Because Donavon was (Reader's) hero, and the guards were just wardens unjustly holding him captive.

Their conversation continued without pause, filling the empty room with sounds of parental love and warmth. The guard at the door loved being there whenever it was time for (Reader's) visit with their dad, because it really was an incredibly beautiful and emotional scene every time he was present, but he also hated being the one on duty whenever (Reader) came, because he had to be the villain to say "Time's up" when their four hours were over.

"Mx. (Reader). Donavon."

(Reader's) eyes drooped, darkening under the shadow of their eyelashes. "Already?"

"Unfortunately."

The guard had been there so long, he remembered when (Reader) was a child, and would cry and scream whenever it was time to leave, begging him to let their daddy out.

Donavon smiled comfortingly. "Thank you for visiting me, kiddo."

"Of course."

"Maybe in another decade they'll let me have physical contact visitation." Donavon chuckled, only half serious with his hopeful statement. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too. Don't forget to write."

"I never do."

They both stood up, hanging up their phones painfully. It was the worst time of the day. His chains shook around his wrists as he waved goodbye. He never hurt a single guard in his time incarcerated, but it was a formality, a requirement, due to the nature of his crime. It didn't seem to matter how good his behavior was. Even though the guards trusted him, according to the law Donovan was still to be treated as a monster.

After being guided back out of the room, through the halls, and out to the parking lot, (Reader) finally felt like they could breathe. The air that was stolen when the guard ended their visit with their dad was greedily sucked up outside the stifling building. They finally looked at their silent phone, seeing a dozen messages from Rich. Or, who's number (Reader) assumed was Rich, since they had deleted his contact as soon as they woke up that morning.

Most of the texts were pleas for a second date, or an explanation for what he did wrong. Some of them were insults.

(Reader) sighed, deleting the conversation and blocking his number before getting into their car, allowing tears to silently fall down their warm cheeks. All that they wished for was for someone to love them, and no one would ever love them like their dad did.

The drive back was just as miserable as it was every month.

And just like every month, the tears didn't stop until (Reader) pulled up to their apartment. It was a long day, where the good moments weren't long enough, and (Reader) was ready for another beer. It wasn't Sunday, but it was their Sunday, which meant that they couldn't stay up drinking all night.

But it felt as though they had just popped open their can when someone started pounding on their door, angrily and frantically. (Reader) cursed not being able to afford to live in an apartment that had a controlled door to the building, living in a cheap one that had the stairs on the outside of the building. Which meant that there were no security measures to prevent just anyone from coming straight to (Reader's) unit.

They set the alcohol to the side and made their way to the door. The banging only stopped when the person on the other side heard (Reader) unlocking the deadbolt. A slightly sweaty man with brown hair too short to be messy stood impatiently.

"Rich?"

The slightly younger man shrugged sharply, jutting his head to the side with an attitude as if to say 'No shit, who else?'

"Are you going to let me in?" He asked impatiently.

"Uh, no?" (Reader) furrowed their brow. "How'd you find where I live?" They were too confused to even be mad or scared.

"It wasn't difficult; literally everything is online." Rich responded as though (Reader) was a fucking idiot for even asking. The disrespect was shocking, a severe shift from how he acted during their date. He shifted abruptly as though he was going to charge (Reader), so they tightened their muscles, holding the door closer to their side, which earned an aggravated huff.

"What are you doing here, Rich?"

"Well, you owe me an explanation after you ghosted me after our date the other day." His tone made it sound so obvious.

(Reader) scoffed, almost amused. "No I fucking don't."

"I was the perfect gentleman on our date considering the circumstances, you and I had a good time, but then you ghosted me? And I just want to know why." The emphasis on the 'considering the circumstances' included a wave, motioning to (Reader's) body. (Reader) didn't know if he was insinuating that their body was a problem, or if it was their gender expression, or if he just had high fashion expectations that (Reader) didn't live up to, but the little hand movement finally ticked them off.

"Okay, you're done." (Reader) tried to close the door, but Rich was stronger than he looked, and effortlessly pushed them back into their apartment and entered. (Reader) didn't fall, only stumbled, wobbling to regain balance as Rich casually closed the door behind him, pacing his hands on his hips.

"So, what did I do wrong?"

"You mean before you broke into my home?"

"I did- don't be fucking dramatic, I did not break in. I just want to know, I just want to know what I did wrong."

(Reader) slowly backed up, mentally picturing the apartment behind them to figure out where their closest form of defense was. "Nothing. It just didn't work out-"

"BULL SHIT."

"-you weren't my type."

Rich stuck out his jaw, clicking his tongue. "That isn't a reason."

"Yes, it is-"

"That isn't a reason to be a fucking dick."

'How far behind me is my knife block?'

Before (Reader) could make a move their front door violently flew open again, slamming loudly into the wall. Both Rich and (Reader) whipped around at the jarring noise.

A man stood in the doorway.

His skin was so caked in dirt and muck that his yellowish skin was almost completely painted over. Long, black hair curled due to the oil, hanging down and sticking to his gaunt face. Between the shaggy locks black eyes glared unblinkingly.

"Who the fuck is that?!" Rich nearly hollered, retreating closer to (Reader) out of fear, unable to tear his eyes away from the modified weapon in the intruder's hand.

Warmth spread throughout (Reader's) entire body; the god of love releasing a cage of butterflies into their body.

"He's here to kill me."

Part 0

Eight year old (Reader) tugged on their oversized long sleeve shirt. It was rubbing against the bruises uncomfortably. Everything about their body felt uncomfortable lately.

Their mother was late again.

Mr. Haley sighed loudly for the umpteenth time, looking at his watch as though it was (Reader's) fault their mother hadn't picked them up yet. It was warm and humid, and the sleeves of (Reader's) shirt were sticking to their arms. Despite the heat, Mr. Haley wouldn't allow (Reader) to wait inside, instead standing at the entrance of the school under a tree. (Reader) was the last child at pickup, aside from the children outside on the field for after school sports.

"Is your mom working late again?"

(Reader) didn't answer, instead watching the man walking into the nearly empty parking lot who seemed to be staring at (Reader) and their teacher. They couldn't tell exactly from how far away he was, but he didn't get any closer, keeping to the entrance, partially hidden behind a sign.

"Do you have anyone else I can call? Grandparents?" His kind voice was strained, exhaustion melting his patience.

The man suddenly ducked away from view, and shortly after (Reader's) frazzled mother sped walked into the lot, storming closer to the building. (Reader) left to meet her half way in an attempt to calm her down, but their teacher followed.

"Good afternoon, Ms. (Name)-"

"(Reader), c'mon." As soon as (Reader's) mother was close enough she immediately spun on her heel to leave again, ignoring the teacher.

"Ms. (Name), this is the third time-"

"I know!" The woman snapped, stopping abruptly, causing (Reader) to bump into her side. "I'm sorry."

"-the third time this month."

"I said I know!" She whined, throwing up her hands. "I couldn't get out of work, it wasn't that long!"

"After school activities are almost over. It's been almost an hour-"

"Don't be a dick, okay, I'm twenty minutes late."

"School ended forty minutes ago."

She crossed her arms. "So not an hour."

"Almost an hour-"

"So not an hour."

Mr. Haley sighed in defeat. He tried again, however, he was interrupted by the woman grabbing (Reader) by the arm and dragging them out of the parking lot. Her nails dug into the scabs on (Reader's) arm.

She spat out curses towards the teacher as she dragged her kid down the road towards the bus stop.

"Fucking asshole- and I told you that I was working late!" She turned her frustrations on (Reader), squeezing their arm painfully before releasing them, making (Reader) lose their balance.

"I'm sorry, Mom.." (Reader) quietly apologized, already shrinking in on themselves, head hunching into their tiny shoulders.

"Jesus, stop flinching like that. You look like I beat you or something.."

It was true, she never hit (Reader).

She just grabbed them.

Grabbed them by the back of the shirt, the front of their collar, the arms, wrists, and all parents smack their kids on the back of their heads, that's not hitting. It wasn't her fault that (Reader) bruised so easily. She didn't even hit them.

The city bus pulled up to the stop.

"Kevin's coming over for date night, so when we get home, make sure to do all your homework in your room. I'll bring you dinner and some snacks, but the adults need some alone time, okay?"

"Okay?"

"Okay!" (Reader) loudly responded, wringing their shirt in frustration.

(Reader) liked their mom when they had popcorn nights, when they made a bowl of popcorn and sat down to watch a rented movie together. But most of the time? (Reader) hated their mother.

They hated the way she dismissed them. (Reader) never seemed to be a priority in the woman's life. It didn't even feel like she hated (Reader). (Reader) was just nothing. They didn't receive hugs when they were scared, didn't get kisses when they were sick. And it wasn't one of those cases where you can't remember a single good memory because you're mad; (Reader) couldn't recall a single time their mother ever said the words 'I love you' to them.

She said it to Kevin though.

When they arrived home, (Reader) immediately went to their room, closing the door and flopping onto their mattress on the floor. They didn't feel like doing their homework, and decided instead on a quick nap. It wasn't like their mother was going to check in on them and see how they were doing anyway.

Maybe their dreams would bring a nice family for them.

CRASH!

A loud smash of glass and something heavy falling onto the thin apartment floor woke (Reader) up. They didn't know how long they were out for, but the sun was still up. (Reader) nervously bolted off the mattress and onto their feet, teetering in the middle of the room.

There was a quiet choking sound that liquefied into a gurgle before silencing.

(Reader's) handle slowly turned and their door was softly opened. A terrified looking man drenched in blood stood in front of (Reader), gazing down at them with inhuman eyes. His eyes were wide, panicked, but glassy, red, and with pupils so enlarged that he reminded (Reader) of the ghost woman from a scary movie their mother had been watching. He tried to brush his black hair out of his eyes, never looking away from (Reader's). It was the most intense staring contest (Reader) had ever been in.

He was timid in his approach, crouching down to his knees as he got closer to (Reader).

"..Hi." His voice was shaky and breathy. The man seemed to be overcome with an emotion that (Reader) didn't recognize. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, yet he still didn't blink. He swallowed hard before continuing. "My name is Donavon."

(Reader) was in an odd trance, halfway between petrified and numb. "My name is (Reader)." They didn't know why they answered.

"I know." For the first time since entering, Donavon glanced away from (Reader), searching the room for something. There were no toys in (Reader's) room. "Are you a-" His face broke trying to find the words he needed for his question. "Are you a b-?" A- a-.."

"I'm a kid." (Reader) tugged on their uncomfortable long sleeve shirt.

Donavon smiled so wide that his face looked like it completely split in half. Tears ran down his face shamelessly. The pure joy startled (Reader). "You're a kid." He sniffed back his snot and wiped away some tears, still smiling so hard that his face was turning red and he looked like he was going to laugh. "You're my kid."

He pulled (Reader) into a hug.

It wasn't like the quick hug the school nurse gave them, or the hugs their friends at school gave them; it was desperate.

He squeezed them almost too tightly, his fingers digging painfully into their ribs as he breathed in their hair. But (Reader) didn't cry out or ask him to stop. Tears had begun to fall from their eyes as well.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo. I should have been here. I should have been here." He started rocking (Reader) as he apologized into their scalp. "I didn't know about you, but I do now, and I'm here now."

(Reader) felt him kiss the side of their head quickly before he went back to whispering.

"I didn't know. But I do now. I'm so sorry."

It was too much, and it made (Reader) cry. They sobbed loudly, wailing into his chest as they returned the hug.

"I love you, (Reader). I love you so much. I don't know you yet, but I still love you. I should have been here for you, but I am now. And I am never letting you go. Okay? No one is ever taking you away from me."

Police sirens approached, screaming outside the building. (Reader) felt Donavon quickly reach into his back pocket, but he never let go from their right embrace.

"I never knew your mom. When I saw you with her last year, I - I tried to get into contact, but, but.. No one would listen to me, I had no proof.. I.. got a DNA test.. I -I'm your dad! I'm a father!" He started rambling, trying to explain things to (Reader), but they couldn't understand anything he was saying. And it didn't matter to them. He said he loved them.

(Reader) heard heavy boot steps and an officer loudly announce his presence.

"No one is ever taking you away from me again."

He was still only hugging (Reader) with one arm.

Someone entered the room, and a really loud sound hurt (Reader's) ears.

An officer shot Donovan in the shoulder, causing the knife he was holding to clatter onto the floor. He fell, releasing (Reader). They saw the knife and quickly put two and two together. But something happened in (Reader's) underdeveloped brain. It didn't matter that they had just met him. That man the police just shot was their dad. And he loved them.

"No!" (Reader) tried to launch themselves at Donovan to protect him, but their tiny body was caught by an officer.

"Don't worry, I've got ya!" The man tried to console (Reader), easily subduing their thrashing limbs, but his soothing voice didn't ease the pain in their heart, nor did it dampen the volume of their shrieks.

"DADDY!!"

The cop carried (Reader) out past the bodies of their mother and Kevin. Both were mutilated, lying naked near the couch in a pool of blood and spilt vodka.

Donavon was sentenced to life without parole.

He testified in court that the only thing he regretted was almost hurting his child. (Reader's) mother had taken advantage of him at a party years ago. Donavon had passed out drunk in the master's bedroom and woken up with his pants and underwear around his ankles. He told the court he didn't remember anything that happened, so although he suspected that someone had assaulted him, he had no proof and records showed that the police refused to help him when he went to report it.

It was a one in a million chance that Donavon saw (Reader) and their mother grocery shopping over a year ago, and nearly had a heart attack seeing a little kid who had his father's ears. Ears are just as unique as fingerprints, and to see a little kid with badly cut hair looking like a mixture of his father's baby photos and the woman walking beside them gave Donavon a sense of confidence that was borderline disturbing. He told the jury that he approached the woman with the intent of making polite conversation about how much alike her kiddo looked like his late father, but knew immediately that (Reader) was his, because when their mother looked Donavon in the eyes she recognized him.

"Before I could even say 'Hi', she grabbed (Reader's) arm and said 'Stay away from my child, Donavon.' I didn't even remember her face."

On the witness stand, Donavon admitted to breaking into their home so he could get access to (Reader's) DNA, stealing their hair brush. He also admitted to stalking the family, watching them as (Reader) openly showed signs of abuse. He called CPS multiple times, but nothing ever came of it.

Donavon repeated how time and time again law enforcement failed to help him get custody of his 'alleged' child, and that he had "snapped".

"I told (Reader) that no one would take them away from me again. Please, please I know I was wrong." Donavon pleaded the jury, looking past the lawyers and staring with his horrifying, never ending gaze. "Please don't put me away forever. I can get better, with help! I needed help! But my baby, my kiddo, they deserve better, please don't separate us again!"

Despite going to a decent foster family and receiving regular therapy sessions with child services, (Reader) had learned what true love was. The smiles their foster family gave them felt fake. No one could hug (Reader) tight enough to press their way into (Reader's) heart. Love was tears streaming down from the black coal eyes of a desperate father who just killed his kiddo's abusers. That was heroic. That was good. Just.

(Reader's) foster parents smiled at each other all the time, and said I love you multiple times a day. Then they divorced. Love was (Reader's) daddy, ready to kill (Reader) so they never had to be apart again.

The therapist with child services watched with a broken heart as (Reader) refused her homemade cookies. "Have you made any friends at school?"

(Reader) shrugged. They didn't see much of a point in friends. "There are these two kids I eat lunch with." Two kids who wouldn't leave them alone, no matter how much (Reader) ignored them.

"That's good! What are their names?"

"Miranda and Brian."

"Are they good kids?"

"They're weird. Brian wears glasses that make his eyes look super big, and Miranda wears a fedora."

"Well, I'll let you in on a secret. The weird kids are usually more fun to hang out with than the normal kids!" She winked while smiling, but it didn't phase (Reader).

"When can I see my dad?"

The therapist leaned back, looking up at the ceiling to control her inner turmoil before shutting her eyes. "I'm working on that, but it's very difficult. Mr. McElroy is in a lot of trouble for what he did."

(Reader) looked down at the drawing they had been making of them playing outside with Donavon. "I wish he killed me."

Part II

Warren had run away from home, again.

His left eye was swollen shut, and blood speckled the front of his t-shirt. The ten year old hadn't even done anything yet, but his father had had a bad day at work, and been drinking for a couple of hours by the time Warren was dropped off by the Saturday babysitter.

He ran into the woods, blinded by his tears and the swelling.

Because of the crying and injury to his eye, Warren couldn't see very well, and kept running even when he emerged from the trees into a clearing; running into a very deep hole.

There was a pain as his ankle popped, crashing at the bottom into the mud. Everything hurt, so he allowed himself to scream and cry as loudly as he needed. No one was going to come for him anyway.

And so he stayed in the hole and watched as the sun went down and the world went black. Even though he knew his father wouldn't come looking for him, he still wished he would. He wished someone needed him as badly as he needed them.

There was no moon that night, leaving Warren completely blind after the purple sunset left the sky. With his unusually dilated pupils Warren typically preferred the dark over the sun, but without the moon there wasn't enough light for him to see.

'Maybe, I should just spend the night in here.' The sad thought made him sniffle, threatening to release the floodgates again.

"It's right over here!" A loud whisper followed by feet tripping over branches echoed through the trees. Warren held his breath, suddenly afraid of being discovered. It wasn't logical to be frightened, but he was. There were strangers in the woods, and he was in pain and blind and alone. His heart beat in his chest like a war drum as people drew near.

"How do you know where it is?"

The voices belonged to children, probably around Warren's age, but he didn't recognize any of them. Most of what they said was too quiet to hear, until they arrived at the clearing.

"Over here."

The strangers stopped near the hole, but too far away to see Warren covered in mud at the bottom. Lights were illuminating the air, and Warren figured that they must have had flashlights with them. His eyes finally had enough light to adjust to the pitch black, and he watched a letter flutter into the hole, followed shortly by another letter, gracefully drifting in.

Then a thick envelope was chucked in, hitting Warren in the head, who had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from accidentally making a startled sound.

"What did you wish for?" Someone asked.

With that question, Warren realized where he was.

He grabbed the letter that had hit him, quietly opening it up as two of the strangers above him bickered. In the faint light he saw a lot of words, too many to read before they left, so he quickly scanned the page out of curiosity. His breath hitched when he saw a drawing of himself.

Black eyes and shaggy black hair.

Warren put the papers back in the envelope and stuck it in his pants. Someone approached the edge, and Warren caught a glimpse of hair and eyes. They didn't see him, but he certainly saw them.

"What did you wish for, (Reader)?"

"Someone who loves me.."

And at that moment, Warren believed in the hole that grants wishes.

He had no proof that the child looking down at him was the same child who threw the wish practically into his lap, but he knew that it was. Like fate, or magic.

After the trio left, Warren pulled his sore little body out of the muck, repeating (Reader's) name to himself over and over again as to not forget it. He didn't know how, but he knew that (Reader) was the one who's wish he had stolen. Warren limped home, easily sneaking in past his father passed out on the couch and up the stairs to the bathroom, where he locked the door.

He quickly pulled out the letter, opening it up in the light to read the wish in full.

"I wish someone would love me." Warren read quietly out loud, sounding out each word as his finger followed the sentence.

"He has to be just like my dad. Be - cause my dad is the only person who loves me."

"He has to have black hair and black eyes.."

Warren looked at his dirty face in the mirror, ignoring the purple around his left eye and focusing on his natural features. A proud smile crept onto his lips.

He went back to reading. "And his eyes should be deep.." Warren's own eyes were also deep set, making it look like he had bags under his eyes even after a full night's sleep. His ears started to turn pink. The picture was of the kid he saw at the hole with a tall man with black hair and eyes and a little guy who looked the same. He pointed at each person. "That's (Reader).. that's (Reader's) daddy... And that's.." he looked at himself in the mirror, tearing up with how hard he was smiling.

Someone needed him.

He turned the page over and his smile instantly fell, his blood freezing.

Pictures of bloody bodies covered the pages.

Page after page of dead people with the most intense things Warren had ever read followed the seemingly innocent wish. He hadn't been exposed to video games yet, his father didn't let him watch TV, and Warren ignored the other kids at his school, so he had never known violence outside of the terrible things his father did to him. And the words he read in that envelope were violent.

"True love is keeping me."

"If he loves me, he'll kill me."

"Don't let them take me away again."

"Together forever."

(Reader) was worried about the limitations of the wishing hole, so they felt they had to be very specific about their ideal boy. Which meant that they had to explain what love was. And to explain what love was, meant that they had to explain to the hole what their dad had done to their mother and Kevin.

It scared Warren.

But only for a moment.

He thought about the joy (Reader) would feel when they saw him for the first time, how their eyes would light up with love and adoration. In his mind, they would recognize him instantly, like their drawing come to life. Warren was their wish come true. And, in a way, (Reader) was his.

He slowly went back to his bedroom and hid the letter in his underwear drawer. The wish was like his most prized possession. Knowing that there was someone out there who needed Warren made him, for the first time in a very long time, feel hopeful for the future.

The next few years of Warren's life, however, were not pleasant in the slightest.

An anatomy book flew at Warren's face, connecting with his thin nose. He was now in highschool, and the abuse had only worsened.

"What the fuck is this?!" His father threw another medical book, terrified. In the past he used to throw and break things even though Warren's only crime was existing, but now even Warren could understand his father's disgust.

A rat laid on Warren's table, split open.

"I'm practicing.." Warren smiled, blood dripping from his nostrils.

"I should kick you out of the goddamn house!" The drunk man kicked a wall, leaving a dent in the drywall.

"If you do that, I'll go to the police."

His father's eyes widened. "The fuck you just say, you little psychopath?!"

The man was very nimble for someone so swollen from years of alcohol consumption, closing the distance between himself and his son before Warren had a chance to put up his hands in defense. Large, yellowed fingers grabbed a fistful of Warren's greasy hair and lifted his dangerously underweight body off the ground; high enough where Warren couldn't touch the floor with his toes.

"Think about it. You have no proof for the cops that I killed this rat, but I have all the proof that you hit me." To emphasize his point, Warren didn't wipe away the blood that was now dripping onto the rat carcass.

Black eyes that held no light stared wide and unblinking at the disgusting excuse of a man before Warren. His father looked about the room, which was now covered in articles about some murderer from years ago and medical texts printed off at the local library.

Warren was dropped onto his ass. "Fucking freak." His father mumbled before stumbling out of the room.

It wasn't until Warren heard the drunkard smash though the hall towards the staircase that he finally grabbed some tissue to shove up his nose. It had taken him years and years of hard thinking, but Warren had finally found a way to be (Reader's) perfect husband. It was difficult, but the solution was finally discovered, a way to make (Reader's) wish come true without killing them.

He thought he would probably drop out of school, but that didn't really matter to Warren. The young man already had a part time job, and his future career as a manager for a small corner store was practically set.

Candid shots of (Reader) laid under the box of tissues. While (Reader) had continued growing into an attractive young adult, Warren was stunted. A lack of nutrition gave his unnaturally pale skin a yellow tint, and he was so thin that some of his teeth were becoming loose. But it felt as though he couldn't waste even a second thought on anything that wasn't (Reader).

"I'm sorry, Mr. Whiskers.." Warren apologized quietly to the dead rat. "I didn't mean to kill you. I'll do better next time."

Every time Warren saw (Reader) out and about, he wanted to drag them behind a dumpster and fuck them till they bled. It took incredible restraint to stick to his plan and keep to the shadows.

Their wish, laminated, hung above his bed like a prayer, one that he read and worshipped every night before bed.

Warren's father didn't notice when he stopped going to his classes.

He also didn't notice the muffled screaming from the basement, when Warren evolved his experiments from rats to people.

It wasn't until the smell became unbearable that he finally sobered up enough to go down and investigate.

As he searched the house for the cause of the smell, the aging, dying man briefly wondered when the last time he had been down in basement was. Or, when he last saw his good for nothing son.

The stairs to the lowest level creaked under his shoes, and an anxiety he had never before known trickled up through his bones.

At the bottom of the stairs, a door held back the stench like a leaking flood gate. Opening the squealing door wafted a wave of nausea inducing gas right into the man's face.

"Hey, ew what the- hey freak! You down here?! What's that smell..?" His eyes didn't have time to adjust to the dusty basement light before Warren swung a wooden baseball bat with spikes towards his father's face. One spike went through his skull near his nose and another popped open one of his eyes. But his death was due to the blunt force, cracking his head open as easily as smashing a watermelon. The junkie strapped and gagged to the table silently screamed as their one hope for salvation died in front of them.

"I'm sorry about the interruption." Warren smiled, his eyes still and unwavering. The man who had destroyed his childhood and stolen his happiness laid bleeding out on the floor, and Warren didn't feel a single thing. It was strange, part of him thought that he would feel satisfaction watching his abuser die, but he felt nothing at all. Warren only killed his father because he had interrupted his experiment with the homeless person who looked amazingly like (Reader). The young man held up a belt. "Let's continue."

Warren didn't consider himself to be a murderer. What he was doing to the people he abducted was for love. There was no evil or hatred, and if he looked at it in a certain light, he wasn't really trying to kill them at all.

Moving to the night shift gave Warren more time to stalk (Reader) during the day. Just as he had predicted, Warren became a higher member of management, and even 'owned his own home' now that his father had tragically passed. Everything was progressing perfectly, because his entire existence was a wish come true.

It hurt, hiding in the booth behind (Reader) and their friends, hearing about how they had started dating at the suggestion of their bitch therapist, but Warren decided that it was good for their relationship. It proved to him that even after all this time, (Reader) still loved him and needed him. Every time a date failed to live up to (Reader's) expectations it further fueled Warren's fantasy of how (Reader) would react when he finally revealed himself to them.

The dates also provided Warren ample opportunity to look around their apartment. Like when they went on a date with some whiny loser his age. He wasn't even (Reader's) type. Their home was small and quaint, and taking pictures of it in extreme detail helped Warren learn how to decorate the room (Reader) would be staying in once they finally started dating.

Dating.

The idea of merely "dating" caused a painful strain in Warren's chest, but he knew that it was only logical to date before he proposed. At least for a month or so. Maybe a week.

Well, whenever he did propose, Warren knew (Reader) would accept, because Warren was their wish come true. There was nothing he could do wrong, because his entire existence was due to (Reader's) will.

He didn't even bother cleaning off the dirt when he scuffed up the bedroom door. There was no point, because (Reader) wouldn't ever fear or hate anything he did, even if they didn't know he was the one responsible. Because that was fate.

(Reader's) undergarments rested on top of the dirty clothes basket.

Even that was fate.

Because why would they leave their worn underwear in plain view, if not for him? His hands with dirt crusted nails stroked the garment, imaging that he could still feel the heat of (Reader's) body on them. Warren imagined how happy (Reader) would be to learn what he did with their underwear, in their bed. He imagined their eyes glowing like an angel's as their smile graced his filthy presence.

Because this was (Reader's) wish.

And soon, Warren would finally give them their happily ever after.

Warren had put in for a week of vacation at his work; their shared bedroom was decorated; and his supplies were hidden in a backpack in the dirt behind (Reader's) complex. It was like a fairytale, when the knight came to save the dragon from the prince.

Rich approached (Reader's) front door as Warren dug up his hidden tools. Mud covered his face and gloves, but he didn't mind. In fact, it was like a mask, where only his true love would recognize him. Warren knew that his dream would come true that day, but it was even better than he had hoped for. Prince Rich was there to harass his dragon.

He had hoped it would be this easy, and the universe provided. Fate was always on Warren's side when it came to making (Reader's) wish come true. All those lives lost to Warren's experiments were not wasted.

The annoying voice of Rich was audible from outside the building, but it was difficult to feel anything negative towards to poor bastard. In Warren's mind, it wasn't Rich's fault that he was born to be such a loser; it was fate's design for the man to be sacrificed.

Warren threw open the front door, scaring the shit out of the stronger looking man. "Who the fuck is that?!"

Then, the sands of time were fused into glass by the electricity between Warren and (Reader). Their expression looked relieved, just as Warren had always hoped it would. A smile stretched across the beautiful lips Warren often fantasized about kissing. Their cheeks pulled up in the most honest grin Warren had ever seen.

Tears of joy decorated their bottom lashes like glitter.

"He's here to kill me."

Rich put up his arm as though to protect (Reader) from Warren. Again, Warren felt no anger towards the man and his silly reaction.

The bat used to kill Warren's father restarted time as it aimed for Rich's skull.

(Reader) looked up endearingly at Warren, now sitting on their knees in a pool of Rich's blood. The man before them was everything they had ever dreamt of. His black eyes never left (Reader's), even as he bludgeoned their date to death.

It took all of (Reader's) will power to not shake in their seat. Excitement flowed through their veins so quickly that it sent involuntary quivers through their muscles. Everything that they had ever wanted was finally coming true.

"I've been waiting for you." (Reader) felt their chest tighten as Warren approached.

But then he dropped his bat.

Their smile twitched a little, but (Reader) tried to not let anxiety ruin their happiest moment. The dirty man slid a backpack off and started rifling through it.

"I've been waiting for you too.." A voice that sounded oddly chipper finally responded, echoing from a wide grin that showed off yellowing teeth with a few missing on the bottom row.

(Reader) smiled harder. "You're going to kill me?" It was phrased like a question, but it was more of a plea.

"No."

"What?"

(Reader's) smile cracked in half. The adrenaline in their system turned deadly.

Warren's smile didn't fade.

"But, you have to." (Reader) began to panic. This had to be the man they wished to life. He had to be there to kill them. It was fate. He had to! "Aren't you here for me?"

"Of course I am."

"Then you have to kill me! If you love me, you have to-!"

Warren dropped his bag, revealing a hacksaw. He held it relaxed in one hand, and held a belt in the other. "Do you know how selfish you are, (Reader)?"

(Reader's) mind went numb with confusion.

"I've loved you for so long, and now that I finally have you, you think I'm going to kill you?"

"I'm not going to let anyone have you."

"Not even death."

The End

The two story house was full of trash bags. Every room in the building was full of clutter and filth, except the master bedroom.

Warren came home from a long shift, excited to have his precious spouse in his arms.

None of the guards at the prison would listen to Donavon when he tried to convince them all that something was wrong. A child suddenly not visiting their murderer of a parent in prison was not reason to go to the police and open a missing person's case. Even the officers that liked Donavon couldn't do anything.

The bedroom decorated to (Reader's) taste was unlocked by Warren as he finally climbed through all the shit. He entered their shared home with a warm expression of pure love on his face.

"(Reader), I'm home!"

In the middle of the room watching television was a wheelchair bound (Reader). Their arms and legs amputated, sitting helplessly in a soiled diaper. A drugged up, lopsided smiled sleepily tugged the corners of their mouth up.

"Welcome home, baby.."

A/N: Sorry it took so long, happy to start writing again ❤️

#yandere #yandere x reader #dead dove do not eat #not a romance #cw death #cw dead animal #cw blo0d #cw trauma #thank you for waiting so patiently #i know it isn't my usual #dark #cw abuse #abduction #yandere stalker #cw rap3 #male yandere #yandere oc

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phantoms-world-and-more · 1 year

Text

Jazz and jason but jazz is alittle to similar to harly quin and bruce gets worried for her safty

So jazz decided to open a phyciatritrist offace in gothem and one of her patients is jason todd, over the next few months they talk about how he dies briefly after an accident and because jazz knowes about danny is able to help him alot

After a few months jason invites jazz to dinner with the waynes and jazz happily agrees

When jazz met the waynes it went good, until it started getting into jazz's personal life, phyciatritrist with a slightly traumatic childhood in a crappy town and basicly raising her brother for their parents, intelligent but naive and physically strong

Which is what harly quin used to be like before she went crazy...

Because bruce is paranoid all the resemblance to harly quin are getting to him so eventually he asks her about her love life in a way that makes it obvious he's concerned for her, which jazz gives a shocking reaction

Bruce: i don't mean to be rude but... are you okay in a relationship?

Jazz: do you mean, have i been abused by a partner???

Jason: bruce!-

Jazz: am i realy that bad?

Jason:... what

Bruce:... what

Damian: please miss fenton enlighten us into what you mean

Jazz: well when i was a teenager i got curious about dating and went put with a few guys...and they...weren't the most...intelligent choice

Bruce:*close to a mental breakdown* what happened?

Jazz: well it got...bad, like bad to the point my little brother had to beat him up so he'd leave me alone

Jason: wait really? Ok that's just one guy, you were young its o- why are you looking at me like that?

Jazz:*looking guilty* it wasn't...one guy

Bruse:how many men?

Jazz:about 4. My little brother had to get involved in all of them unfortunately, and my perents weren't the best at detecting bad partners.

Bruce:...

Jason:...

Jazz: it got to the point when i was going to college danny made me promise that if i dated someone he had to approve...he probably saved me alot

Bruce:... your brother makes people get permission to date you?!

Jazz: No! Oh no! He just asks i run them by him, he'd never force me to break up with someone unless he believes they'll get extremely abusive with me

Bruce: *thinking about how to meet this brother and subtlety thank him for stopping the creation of another harly quin* ok and is this brother of your's good with relationships?

Jazz: oh yeah, definitely, his girlfriend sam and him have been together for almost 5 years now, highschool sweethearts.

Jason: well how about we meet them

Bruce: yes it sounds delightful to meet this little brother and his girlfriend

Jazz: ok! I'll ask them to come for a visit soon

When bruce meets sam he almost has an aneurysm at how much like poison ivy she is

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dearramiel · 1 year

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billy desperately trying to babytrap his girl after she tries to break up w him🤭

This is so good.

✧ - baby trapping, subconscious manipulation, verbal abuse, violent!billy, billy is overprotective, obsessive, and possessive, implied stalker! billy, mentions of billy beating up jason tommy h & some other guy, controlling behavior, toxic relationship, gaslighting, guiltriping, unprotected sex( piv), breeding, cockwarming, mentions of tampering with birth control but it doesn't actually happen, hint of fluff at the end,

Billy's infatuation with you starts the very first day he looks at you, a beautiful, shy, charismatic girl who he could bend at will. He knew he would have you, it wasn't even a matter of how but when.

He was good at orchestrating everything, from the very first time you talk, the heated kisses, and first time hooking up. Billy wasn't your first, but you sure as hell felt like a virgin the first time you took him. He made you feel good, loved, he was sweet, caring, and charming. Just two months in, everything had changed. From the very beginning he knew you were different than other girls he had been with, he never had a girlfriend, and it hit him like a shock. He started acknowledging how much depth his love went, at first it was just him messing around with another girl, but he had gone way off track.

It was hard not to, you had been the only girl to care for him, rather than his dick. You were different. You treated him different than any other person.

It wasn't all on him anyway, you weren't stupid, you knew what Billy's intentions were from the beginning, he'd never once talked to you, but it began to get hard to let go when he kept you around, not shoving you through his window after hooking up, not pretending like you didn't exist when he walked by you at school, offering rides after he proposed in exchange for him to be lenient on Max being late, or even how he had stopped going after other girls.

Everything was so sweet, until he let the intrusive thoughts in.

He started asking who the people you talked to were, walking you to classes you didn't have together during passing period, insisted on driving you to work after school, picking you up and dropping you off home.

Eventually his obsession turned violent, going after Jason Carver after finding you two together during a pep rally, a big misunderstanding that could have been avoided had he just asked what you were bringing to him.

Billy had become somewhat self aware of what he was doing, quickly becoming insecure, and hateful. But he couldn't help it, because he genuinely loved and cared for you, he wanted you all to himself, this sweet girl who let him in. He was good at guilt guiltriping you with that, telling you how much he loved you.

It made you feel restless, having to make sure you weren't talking to specific people he didn't like, making sure not to stare too long at some other guy, spending all your free time with him, letting him know that there was a test you had to make up before going to work. You felt like your life was being controlled, and inviting him over while no one was home was your biggest mistake.

Spring break had just started, it was a Saturday evening when Billy had received the call. Of course he'd pull up to his girlfriends house in under 10 minutes, especially when she gave the "It's important and serious.".

Billy was rapidly knocking on the door, yelling your name, and when you open to let him in, he can tell that something really is wrong.

You're spouting nonsense to him, being so annoying, talking about how he doesn't love you, and that he's obsessed with you. Part of which was really wrong, because Billy did love you. He just had this horrible way of showing it.

It doesn't take long for you to get him angry, he begins yelling back. Saying that Carver, Tommy H, and Smith deserved getting their asses flipped. To which you yell that he shouldn't go about fixing things with violence.

"I just can't do this."

And he snaps, eyes blurring, warm droplets falling to his neck, when he blinks he realizes that he's crying. And it has you shocked.

"What?" His voice is small and broken, it almost has you wanting to take back what you've said. But it's hard to do so, because he's scared you already.

"No, please no." He cries as he reached out to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body, another act that shocks you, he's never been one to initiate affection. He's almost cradling you, "Can't lose you, please don't."

You're not sure if it's an act, one to lure you in, but you take the bait anyway. Because while the ideas of what he's capable of to the extent of his love terrify you, you also remember that you do love him too. That he's never once laid a hand, or ever been physically abusive to you.

"I'm sorry Billy, I didn't mean it. It's just, you scare me sometimes!"

Anguish breaks into his body, when the realizations kick in. It's a thought that's etched into his mind, the fact that you've thought about leaving him. The fact that you even said it.

"I'm sorry baby, let me make it up to you please.. I promise I'll take care of you." His tone sends shivers down your spine, it's the one he always uses, it messes with you subconsciously and you never picked up on it.

You nod your head rapidly, breathing in deeply when Billy's teeth gently sink into the flesh on the side of your neck. Your panting reels him in further, letting him take full control of your body.

You don't even know how you ended up on your back, in your room, and on your bed, both you and Billy fully nude. Both your bodies decorated with bites and love marks. You're crying into the air as Billy's cock is shoved into your aching tight hole. You can feel every inch of him, to the point where you swear you feel his tip hit up snuggly against your cervix, and Billy swears he feels it too, because he begins a brutal pace. Mouth stealing a heated kiss from you. Between the messy kiss, your stuttering moan fills his ears.

"Fuuuuckkk, Billyyy! M'gonna cum!" You whimper, arms and legs wrapping around his body, pulling him to you, almost inviting him further inside you. He's reaching the deepest he can, he's never been or even felt so feral during sex. Both his hands were clenching harshly onto the pillow your head was rested on, he's using it as stability to continue thrusting so hard and fast, he feels like he's also about to cum.

"Yeah? Then cum, need to feel you all over me." The thought alone is enough to send you spiraling, a gush of liquid seeps out, drenching and covering his abdomen and cock in your cum. A long moan rips through you, your walls clamp so tightly around Billy that it only takes a couple more thrusts before his cock plunges into the deepest part of you.

"Fuuck! Babe'm gonna cum, cunt is all mine, gonna breed you so they know you're mine. You want that, don't you?" He groans into your ear, burying his face into your neck, your response is nonverbal, it's just you frantically nodding your head up and down before you decide to speak up.

"Yes! Please, Billy, want you to make me yours!" You babble, then it happens cum begins filling up your insides until you feel full. Billy's weight drops on you then, cum still spurting a few more times before he is absolutely spent.

You can feel him soften inside you, little bits of cum threatening to spill out. The feeling has you whimpering, it's then that Billy remembers he's still inside you. When he goes to lift himself up, a whine is heard from you.

"Billy.. no, don't go.. please. Wanna stay with you like this." You beg, your tired eyes droopy, your arms still holding him tightly.

"Not going anywhere baby. Love you so much." He slurs, high of sex, leaving kisses all over your face.

"I love you too, Billy.. so much.."

He had you right where he wanted you.

Those condoms he planned to poke holes into weren't really necessary after all.

#billy hargrove x reader smut #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #stranger things x reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #tw: baby trapping #tw: toxic relationships #tw: toxic behavior #tw verbal abuse #dark!billy #dark! billy hargrove #dark!stranger things

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jaykaysthicthighs · 2 months

Text

The Path Of A Singer | JJK

excerpt | the appearance of your old lover pops up on tv, and the horrible memories showed itself once again.

genre | heavy angst, cheating, abuse, minor fluff

rating | 18+

warnings | strong language, present & past, toxic relationship, mental & physical abuse, jk cheating, panic attack, alcohol and drug consumption, lots of crying, heartbreaking conversations, jk being vile, lots of yelling, jk manhandles the reader, mention of abusive father, mention of ptsd, reader being selfless (you might not agree with the decisions she's made, but don't hate her; she's a broken person), maybe more

wc | 4K+ (very short)

notes | it's been a hell of a long time since i wrote and posted anything....!!!

my inspiration came from watching the movie insidious: the red door lol. the reason for the mature rating is because of the strong language, the heavy conversations said, and the talks of alcohol and drugs. i want to say that i'm not romanticizing this type of relationship or the behaviors of the characters, i'm just making a story that maybe some people might have gone through. sometimes the decisions made or thought of does not make you a bad/horrible person. everyone had a reason good or bad; you just have try to be understanding. i also tried to make this as heartbreaking as possible, but for some reason i feel like it's not. hopefully it does pull some heartstrings for you guys.

You finally arrived home after an exhausting day of work. Your roommate wasn't home yet, so, luckily for you, you're able to binge eat without the concerned eyes of your friend watching you.

You walked your way to the kitchen and made yourself some sandwiches, you also grabbed some water on the way to the living room. When you made it to the couch, you plopped down heavily. You grabbed the remote and started scrolling through the channels. You came across a channel that was showing a music festival, and without thinking about who might be performing you clicked on it.

The first performer was a group called XG. As they were performing, you happily ate while vibing to their songs. At one point, you started singing as well, not caring that you still had some food in your mouth. If the neighbors were able to hear you, they would probably think someone is dying - yelling for help.

When you finished, you got up put away your dishes, and made your way to your room to change your clothes. As you were changing, you felt a bit lonely. You and your friend don't have any pets, no companion to keep any of you guys company. You exited your room with a simple sweater and shorts.

You made it back to the living room with a content expression on your face, unfortunately, it wouldn't last long. As you were about to get yourself situated on the couch, you looked at the TV screen, and the one person you never wanted to see again was singing.

You fell to your knees with a hard thud, watching the screen with horrid eyes. It's been three years since you saw him. In those three years, you tried your damned hardest to avoid anything and everything that involved him in it. The pain he caused you still resides in your little heart.

You didn't realize but you started crying; the tears rapidly falling. Your body started shaking; the little goosebumps displaying your skin. Your chest felt heavy like a huge wave crashing on you, and the water is rising up into your nose, making it hard for you to breathe. You felt like you were suffocating, and the lack of air was making your head light; dizziness taking its place.

On the outside, you were frozen, but on the inside, you were trying to claw your way out. You felt like you were scratching every surface of your body, but you weren't moving an inch. Your brain was screaming for help, but the only thing leaving your mouth was the hardness and unstableness of your breathing. Right now, you were wishing for your friend to come home right now and save you.

Three Years Ago

You were in your car driving your way to your boyfriend. Jungkook's manager called you demanding that you come and pick him up. You don't really know what happened, but from how his manager sounded, you were thinking that he got himself drunk and high again, causing thoughtless actions.

Not too long ago, Jungkook was able to get into his dream record label. After years and years of hard work, passion, and dedication he was able to pursue his dream. What you didn't realize is that with Jungkook getting to follow his dream of being a singer, he would soon lose his sense of self. In just two weeks he was starting to drink, and in another week, he started experimenting with drugs.

As time went on, so did your patience. You would try and try to stop him - to help him, but every time Jungkook would stop your advances. Pushing you away and causing you pain made Jungkook feel superior, it made him feel proud that he reached a certain height in life.

Your guy's relationship now consists of yelling and crying. Jungkook started to mentally abuse you, but even so, you would accept it. You didn't have the strength to leave him - to leave the man you love since middle school. You couldn't leave the man who would write songs about you, the man who would wake up during dawn and make you a big breakfast, the man who would call you no matter the time, the man who would always tell you how much he loves you every second of the day. You didn't have the strength to leave him.

With all your anger, you finally made it to the studio in one piece. When you entered the building, the looks on the staff's faces were concerning you. One of the staff went up to you and told you to not go inside the studio. You looked at them judgingly and pushed your way through them, but they still tried to stop you.

"What is the problem? Let me through!" you yelled. They gave you a sad look and apologized, "I'm sorry ma'am, but Jungkook is very busy, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to go inside there." Your anger was boiling, steam coming out of your ears. "Sorry for yelling at you, but I don't fucking care if he is busy. Jonny called me saying that I need to pick this asshole up, okay? If you're worried about me finding out that he is high or drunk - even both, don't. This is not new to me."

The staff in front of you looked like she was on the verge of tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she got the chance, a disheveled woman left the room your boyfriend was in. You watched her with wide eyes as she left the building with a smile on her face. You stomped your way to the studio door ignoring the pleas from the staff. You pushed open the door causing a loud bang, startling the man recognized as Jonny.

Jonny swiftly got up and the first thing you noticed was the bloody nose. You walked your way to him digging in your bag grabbing some tissues for his nose. Gently placing it on him, you politely demanded, "Where is he, Jonny?" The man before you faced his eyes on the floor. "Jonny, you called me here, so, don't fucking hide anything from me. Where is he?"

The man took a step back letting the blood freely fall again. He shook his head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you. I've ruined everything." You gritted your teeth and threw the bloody tissue at his face. "Where the hell is he, Jonny?" you yelled.

A second later, Jungkook swung the bathroom door open with nothing but some sweats on. Your heart dropped from his appearance. It was evident that he had fucked the girl from earlier. You guys made eye contact, and you could tell immediately that he was high out of his mind. "Get out, Jonny," you said without looking.

When you heard the door shut, that's when you crumbled. Your eyes started blurring with the tears that were coming. Your body shaking with rage. You walked up to the fucked-up man and slapped him. "Why? Why? Why the hell would you do this to me?"

Jungkook harshly grabbed your wrists and laughed. He laughed like what you had said was something funny. You can smell the horrible alcohol leaving his mouth as he laughed. "Because it's fun, babe."

The pain rippled throughout your body. You snatched your wrists away and bellowed, "You're hurting me! You're destroying me! What does she have that I don't? I thought you loved me?" Jungkook towered over you; he grinned, "I don't love you." Your whole world died. Never had Jungkook spouted those words. It tore you limb from limb, slowly but surely. And that was all it took for you to call it done.

You were fine dealing with his hurtful ways. You were fine being the punching bag. But you were not fine being cheated on. Even with Jungkook in this fucked-up state, not once had he said that he didn't love you, and not once did he ever cheat on you. You felt lower than before, and you didn't want to feel like that. You knew that the moment he started doing drugs and drinking alcohol, the man you once knew would be gone. Still, you had hoped there might be a tiny sliver of him inside, but today proved - his words proved you wrong.

Your eyes hardened and your expression became stoic. Without trying to sound broken you seethed, "We are done! You fucking hear me? I am done with your shit - with everything!" As you walked your way to the door, Jungkook rushed in front of you and pushed you to the ground.

The wind got knocked out of you; you started bawling your eyes. For the first time, you were scared of the man before you. Jungkook locked the door behind him and dragged you by your feet. You tried kicking your feet, hoping that his release would loosen, and you could run away. But before you knew it, Jungkook locked you both into the soundproof booth.

When his grip on you was gone, you scurried to the corner of the booth shielding yourself with your bag. Jungkook walked to you and kneeled to your level. "Don't hide from me, baby." He gently grabbed your bag and tossed it to the other side of the booth. You closed your eyes; you couldn't see the monster of the man you love.

You felt Jungkook tenderly cupping your jaw. You trembled beneath his fingertips; quietly whimpering. It stayed like this for a few seconds until you felt his touch disappear. With your eyes still closed, you could hear Jungkook digging for something. You heard a rustling sound of a Ziplock bag. You knew better, you knew that he was using drugs right now.

"Open your eyes, ____," Jungkook demanded.

You didn't answer, you didn't move. This pissed off the man in front of you. He slapped you, making your body jolt, making your eyes open. You brought your hand to your cheek, tears threatening to fall. "See, it wasn't that hard?"

"W-what do you want... from me?" you stammered.

Jungkook seethed, "You can't leave me. I won't let you leave me. You owe me. All that money I spent on you, all those years I wasted on you - I want that back! And the only way you can pay me back is by being my bitch. You are fucking mine, ____!"

You finally let the tears fall again. Your whole body shook like lightning shooting throughout you. Shaking your head, you wailed, "No! No! No! Please! Don't do this to me, Dad! Stop hurting me!" For the first time today, Jungkook felt his senses come back. Your words panged his heart.

Your mother was never in your life. It was always you and your father, but your father was an abusive man. He would try to find any little thing to blame you for, just for him to lay his hands on you; from hitting, kicking, even to cutting. You had met Jungkook when you were thirteen years old, he comforted, protected, and helped you. When you finally turned eighteen, that's when you moved in with him - that's when you finally felt peace.

Jungkook cupped your face into place. He frantically said, "____, it's me. Your dad's not here. It's me, Jungkook." His touch burned you; you felt like dying. You mustered all your strength and pushed him away. You gripped your shirt and yelled, "No! You're not him! You're not Jungkook! You're a monster and I don't even recognize you!"

Monster... That simple word rang in Jungkook's mind. Monster... Such a terrifying word. If he was a monster, his reason would be because of you. Unfortunately, all the drugs and alcohol in his system weren't enough to keep him sane for one minute. Jungkook launched at you. His hands wrapped around your throat, choking you, but still letting you breathe.

You started clawing your nails on his bare arms. Digging deep that blood starts making its presence. But all that Jungkook could see right now was red. He couldn't feel the pain you were giving him; he couldn't hear the agony in your voice; he couldn't see your wrecked state. Red became his friend.

"You are the reason for my horrible being. You are the reason why I'm a monster. You bitch! If you hadn't kept pushing me to pursue this fucking career, I would've still been the same. If you hadn't been so loving and caring and supportive, we wouldn't be in this predicament. I can't believe that I fell in love with a disgusting person like you. I can't fucking believe that I let you take control of my whole being!"

Right when you were on the verge of passing out, Jungkook released his hold on you; he backed himself on the other side of the booth. You were catching your breath. Your hands shakingly touched your neck, throbbing against your frail fingers. You were painfully coughing; mentally asking God to help ease your pain. Your eyes went in and out of vision; red and black dots were the only thing in sight.

Jungkook watched you with dark eyes. He watched as you were struggling to regain your previous state. He watched as you were crying from the pain, he inflicted on you. He watched the one person who was always with him, the one person who loved and cared for him no longer be the same. He killed you, painfully and slowly.

Present

"____, look at me. It's okay. It's okay." Your friend Lia gently held your face in place. She called out your name, praying that you would settle. She watched as you were frantically breathing; your eyes looking everywhere but her; your body shaking like the room was freezing.

Your panic attacks rarely happen, but when they do, Lia feels so useless. She wished that she could help ease your pain, she wished that she had the power to prevent this. But all she could do was hold you and tell you that you're okay.

Minutes go by until you are finally back. "____?" Lia cautioned, "____, look at me. Are you okay?" As you looked at Lia, you could see the worried expression painting her beautiful face. You hated yourself for making her feel like this, but you couldn't help it. This feeling will never go away; it gets buried six feet under, but once he appears they come back.

"Lia," you whispered, "I saw him again... on TV." Lia took a deep sigh; she hated the pain he caused you before and now. She wrapped you in her arms, holding you with such care. The second you were in her arms, you broke. You cried and cried, loudly speaking your pain.

Lia felt her shirt dampen, but she didn't care. Whatever you do to her, she will take it all in, as long as you feel better in the end, Lia will gladly be your tissue, your enemy, your punching bag. Lia murmured against your hair, "I'm here. I will always be here." She held you tighter; she didn't want you to fade away from her.

You took deep breaths to calm down your nerves. You pulled away from Lia and made your way to the couch. You brought your knees up and buried your face in the space between. You hissed, "I hate what he does to me. He's not even here!" This time you whispered, "And yet, he's able to bring me down to my knees... scared."

Lia met you three years ago; months after your event. You were just a newly hired TA. When Lia first saw you, you looked like a girl who was barely keeping her life together. You told her beforehand - when you started room mating with her, that you have PTSD and that your panic attacks happen from time to time. You didn't really tell her the whole story, just that you were in a very abusive relationship and that you experienced something so terrifying. She accepted you with an open mind and open arms; from then on, Lia became your rock.

Lia got up and sat right next to you. She wanted to ask you a question, but she was scared that you would hate her or push her away for asking. But this question has been in her mind for a while now. After taking a few seconds thinking to think it through, Lia wiped her sweating palms on her pants and inquired, "____, if you don't mind me asking... why didn't you call the police on him? You should've, 'cause I don't think he should be performing after everything he's done to you."

Your eyes started getting blurry; you told yourself the exact same thing, but there was a reason. With your head still buried, you softly replied, "It's easier said than done, Lia. I wished I called the police on him - I wish I could call the police on him, but I can't. Because in simple words... I love him. I hate myself for loving him. Even after everything he has done to me, and everything he has said to me, I love him. Does that make me a horrible person?"

Lia felt herself invisibly jumping out of the couch. No way does she think you're a horrible person. You're just a person who's been through something horribly traumatic. Her heart was filled with so much pain for you. Lia positioned herself so she was facing your small figure, and expressed, "____, no way in hell are you a horrible person. Far from it! I won't be able to say that I relate or know what you're going through, because I don't. But I am able to say that I'll support you and understand your feelings and decisions."

You lifted your head but still kept your eyes on your knees; you muttered, "I met him when we were thirteen years old. He was a very shy and reserved kid - hated social interactions. I remember..." you quietly giggled without realizing when you were remembering the fond memories, "I remember when he used to make small mixtapes every anniversary with letters. He wasn't always a horrible person. He used to be kind, supportive, and loving. One of my favorite things about him was his selflessness towards me. I loved that he would always think about my needs, what I wanted, what I was thinking, and how I was feeling, but in turn, he did the opposite for himself. It was a blessing and a curse."

Lia looked at you and saw the small smile showing. This look was rare for you, and every time it made its appearance, Lia would always treasure it. "He must have been a great person for you to smile like that." You furrowed your brows; you turned to Lia with confusion. "What smile?" you questioned. Lia rolled her eyes, "Well, there's no smile anymore."

You took a deep sigh and apologized, "I'm sorry for talking about him. It's just - just talking about him in this light makes me happy and warm... even if it only lasts for a few seconds." Lia noticed that you started tearing up. Your face was slightly contorted with pain; you were trying not to cry, holding it in but it didn't work. Your tears were freely falling, and Lia comforted you once again. You quietly whimpered, "During that time I called him a monster, but really, I don't want to remember him as the monster in my life because at one point he used to be my prince who saved me from one. I try to think and talk about him in this beautiful light that he used to be under - I want to remember him as that, but the pain he brought upon me is too hard to ignore." You started wailing at this point, "It continues to haunt me, and I hate it! I want to hate him, but I can't! I can't!"

Lia felt herself crying for your pain. She felt herself slowly dying by your words. It truly kills her that her most precious and beautiful friend is going through so much pain. As you both cried into each other's arms, you could hear Lia continuously apologize through her cries. You were so grateful to have such an amazing person as her.

Once you were calmed down, you pulled away from the still tearful woman and wiped her tears away. "Don't cry anymore, Lia." you sniffled, "What happened to me - what's still happening to me would never be fully cured, but I know that whatever happens next, you'll be by my side, and slowly but surely, I won't be able to be to feel the pain anymore. Okay?" Lia nodded her head with a soft smile. You're right, as long as she's with you and as long as you are with her everything will be fine. You guys are each other's glue - each other's person.

There is no doubt in your mind that this pain will pass by. You don't know how long that will take, but until the day comes, having Lia with you eases your heart from pain as much as possible.

"You mailed her my letter?"

"Yes, Jungkook."

The tired man finished his show with a bang, and even though people enjoyed his performance, Jungkook couldn't seem to feel all that happy. For the past year since he finished his rehab, nothing has felt more depressing.

The morning of that night when he woke up, Jonny had told him that you had left, and he was to go to rehab immediately. He hated you for leaving, he hated that you left him in such a messy state. Jungkook blamed everything on you. Jonny had told the ill man that if it wasn't for you, everything that he had worked so hard on would go down the drain. At first, Jungkook didn't understand why you left or what Jonny was saying, but as time went on, he knew that everything was his fault. His addictions and his abusive behavior were all his fault. The reason for your disappearance was his fault. Your pain - everything was all him.

Jungkook knows that there will be no way for him to fix the things he has done and the things he had said, but even so, he would try his damn hardest to fix it. When he finished rehab, Jungkook made it a mission to send you a letter every week, telling you about his days throughout the week, how much he loves and cares for you, telling you how much he is so regretful. Deep down he knows that he is being selfish, he knows that he should let you go - let you move on, but the helpless man is stuck in the past. The past is what keeps him alive. The past is his only source of reason. Jungkook doesn't want to let go of that one thing he has left of you.

Jonny felt so much pity for the man, he didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't know your address. He would accept the letters, promising that he would mail them, but when night rolls around your letters would be burned. Jonny wanted to quit being Jungkook's manager, but you begged and begged for him to stay with the broken singer. You wanted Jungkook to at least have one person for him to lean on when things get hard. Jonny admires your strength - how strong of a woman you are, so, he agreed.

"You should just stop already, Jungkook. She's never gonna mail you back. I know your reason, but you lost her, and you can never fix that." Jonny was getting tired; tired of seeing the broken singer trying with no prevail.

Jungkook walked up to his manager and lowly whispered, "You think I don't know that, Jonny? Ever since I learned that everything is my fault... I knew that she would never come back to me. Yet I still hope - even if that hope is microscopic or nonexistent, I hope that I will be able to see or be with her again."

The fatigued man took a few steps back and lowered his heavy head down. His eyes searched the floor trying to keep his tears at bay, but it didn't work. The salty tears of this poor singer escaped and landed harshly on the wooden floor. Sniffling, the fatigued man uttered, "You think I don't know that you burn my letters?" Jungkook lifted his head up and saw the ashamed manager looking back at him.

He continued, "You're not as discreet as you think you are, Jonny. I went to your hotel room to ask for a favor... and I saw you burn my eighth letter with sadness swimming in your eyes. I connected the dots from there, and I realized that you never sent any of my letters because you don't know her address, huh? You're left in the dark like I am, huh? You know nothing about her whereabouts, about how she's doing, about anything, huh, Jonny!" The manager kept quiet; didn't know what to say.

Jungkook slumped down on the nearest chair with a hard thump. He leaned his head back with closed eyes and softly whimpered, "I now understand the meaning ‘You reap what you sow’… I'm never gonna stop. I know I can never fix this, but I promise you Jonny, I will never stop. Ten years - fifty years from now, I will keep writing her letters... knowing that deep down all of this is for nothing. I don't care if I'm shaming myself by doing this - I don't care about anything but her. She's not mine anymore but I'm forever hers. Let me live like this. Let me live with the consequences. Let me drown myself in this regret."

The destroyed man opened his eyes and gently moved his head to the side to see the lone figure of his manager feet away. With a deep sigh, Jungkook claimed, "You're just my manager, right? So, don't involve yourself in my pitiful life. Just do the job you were hired to do, along with getting my letters. Don't care what you do to them - burn them, keep them hidden, rip them up... doesn't matter, just don't let me know about it; let me falsely believe that you mailed them to her. Alright? Now please get the car... I wanna go home."

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unlikelyjapan · 10 months

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Full disclosure: I wasn't a Syd/Carmy shipper until two weeks ago. Hell, I don't think I've ever been a shipper of anything up until this moment - but I've been happily married to my slow-burn best friend for eons, so this all struck a deep, nostalgic chord for me. Consider this post my coming-out party:

This whole thing came about from that well-worn Freud quote that "friendship is the art of distance while love is the art of intimacy" that I recalled from a crude psychology class.

From the most shallow, birds-eye POV, Carmy achieved intimacy with Claire (while maintaining distance/friendship with Syd) by disclosing details of his family situation, his panic attacks, expressing romantic affection, and establishing physical intimacy with someone.

He even seemed more eager to relay and express these experiences to his friends (see the cannoli conversation with Syd and Marcus) as he went deeper into the relationship. From this perspective, I empathize with people when they say they see his relationship with Claire as real personal growth, followed by a steep regression.

Claire seems to pantomime someone who is secure, but is actually pretty anxious in matters of the heart - the idealized projections she places on Carmy based on her proximity to him a decade ago, her unwillingness to walk away from the red flag of the 'wrong number' fiasco, and her unrelenting insistence to know why he tried to dodge her in the first place. I'll say nothing of the constant placating.

Claire is a sort of a faux 'sword of destiny' for Carmy - he yearned for her attention in his youth, it was loudly proclaimed to be "the good thing" by his abusive family, and so it's the only logical choice in Carmy's mind once he's beaten over the head with it for the umpteenth time - it's the love chosen for him by his family and his past self before he pieced together ways to partially escape, it's fatalism, it's the end of the weary search for "fun" and happiness.

He's never truly happy or having "fun" (as he doesn't know how to define that in his mind - that's why we're tortured with 5 grueling minutes of Logan), but he feels cared for and is going through the motions of being "that guy who is fun and in love".

Love even had to be defined for him by his inherited family friend/handyman who he didn't even know was his "best friend" until Claire relayed it to him - he blindingly accepted both assertions from Fak, falling back into his family's narrative that he can't survive or be normal without their collective help.

By contrast, Sydney is probably the first thing Carmy has ever chosen for himself without outside influence from family or employers. She was his first hired employee, his first true friend who wasn't a blood relative, and probably the first person he feels mirrors his passions without a need to compete with her over them.

Sydney is a choice - she is happiness (in whatever shape or form that you choose to define it, it can be aromantic if you'd like) that Carmy found all by himself, without the narrative being driven by outside influences. They have fun together on their own frequency, but Carmy's black-and-white thinking can't recognize it for what it is - he's still reaching for a sense of "fun" that was repeatedly sold to him as his family tried to push him along the path of normalcy (an impossible feat for a Berzatto).

Syd and Carmy share a brand of maternal grief/strife and a profound love of service that breeds a slow intimacy. By saying "you deserve my full focus" Carmen is saying that Sydney's happiness is more important than his own, which can sound abysmal in type, but is also a natural pre-req for love when given willingly - which I think he is giving willingly for her, just not willingly for the anxiety and minutiae that comes with actually running a fine dining restaurant. He needs someone he can have absolute trust in to hold his hand through that part.

That's why he could only create The Bear with her, and why he says he wouldn't want to do it without her.

They're both fearful and avoidant, which is a fatally-wounding powder keg if they were to connect this instant, but with ever-growing intimacy and self-work (which Claire - however insufferable her dialogue - probably planted seedlings in with Carmy, and his openness and absolute trust in Sydney could drive her towards, too) their coming together could heal many of their longstanding wounds.

This was more of a meandering walk than I hoped, but I think it all comes down to actively choosing happiness vs. passively chosen happiness - Sydney is the first thing Carmy has ever chosen for himself, and we were beaten over the head with depictions of how much he cherishes that agency and Syd this season. I really hope S3 is a big mess of mirroring and sharing for them.

#the bear fx #the bear season 2 #the bear spoilers #the bear #syd x carmy #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #carmy x claire #carmy x sydney #chefs kiss

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softboo · 16 days

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love me, ever so gently - part III

pairing: austin x reader

summary: you recently moved to a new apartment, making some new eccentric friends along the way. but what you didn't expect was falling in love with a stranger. a stranger you somehow couldn't stop thinking about

words: 2.3k

warning: depictions of alcohol, dark themes of domestic abuse in relationships, *minors please don't interact*

author's note: hii here's part III of the story!! this one was a lot of fun to make omg and it wasn't even supposed to go this way at all... it kinda just happened lmfaoo. i'm already writing the next part heh. but yeah, it truly means the world to me that you guys read these stories. like it really warms my heart, so thank you. hope you enjoy <3

previous part // next part coming soon...

part III

"he's being abused cassie," you wanted to be straightforward on the topic, especially with how delicate the issue was. you thought she would say something, but she paused. like the weight of your words were slowly sinking in. the realization and the possibility landing right in front of her.

you were just afraid she wouldn't see it.

and she didn't.

"sweetie, what makes you say that? he seems fine."

for the past few weeks, austin started attending more events. the cooking class being one of his favorites. you no longer sat with him anymore, feeling awkward every time you spoke to each other. the silence became so deafening that you soon changed partners. but a part of you always seemed to wonder how he was doing. if he had any new bruises. if he was still healing from past injuries. if his pain was still there.

and if he was genuinely okay.

from someone who knew nothing, like the rest of your friends, he seemed to be doing amazing. and he was pretty good at keeping that front up.

maybe he found a way to put his guard up even more after you.

you all were spending dinner in the kitchen; evelyn taking her proper position as cook, insisting on making everything by scratch. it took a long time to convince her that george was there to help and when she did accept, he never left her side. making sure she had every ingredient ready.

he genuinely looked like he was a cook working for the head chef, but you and cassandra both knew he was mainly doing it for the food.

"i promise you cassie, he's not okay."

"if he wasn't okay dear, then why is he coming here to spend dinner with us?"

your eyes widened at the news, which made cassandra smile.

"you invited him?" panic started to rise up to your throat, "but why?"

"george invited him because his girlfriend is out of town for two weeks. he's going to be alone and no one deserves to be alone at a time like this."

you gritted your teeth, the thought of seeing him again after so long and now he was spending dinner with your friends made you feel slightly uncomfortable by the idea. not because you didn't want to see him, but moreso because your heart was so desperate to talk to him again.

"cassie, his girlfriend is the problem. he's probably so excited that she's gone, which is why he's attending more events."

"my love, listen to me." she took your hands from across the table, eyeing you with such intent and comfort that she let out a sigh.

"you know why i don't believe you?"

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not knowing where she was going with this.

"because i know how you feel about him," she waited for your reaction, but all you did was blink at her. "let's say this is true, the girlfriend is an abuser, then what?"

"then we help him right?"

"sure dear, but you need to ask yourself if you're doing that because you care about him or because you like him."

you bit your lip. why did there have to be a difference? you can care about someone right?

"and if it's the latter, you need to wait and see if he'll reach out to you. because again, he is taken."

that last part stung because it was true. some little part of your heart thought that maybe, just maybe, if he left his girlfriend, you could come in and be everything he deserved.

but it wasn't that easy. and he wasn't single.

"elvis my boy!! elvis is in the building!!" george exclaimed as austin arrived, wearing a black suit blazer. his blonde hair was styled in a way that looked messy, but accentuated his curls. and his eyes had oceans again, overflowing with life.

but what got you was his smile. he looked genuinely happy, embracing george into a tight hug. something george wasn't used to since he was always the one initiating, but he was all for it.

and for the first time, you doubted yourself and your theory. maybe cassandra was right.

maybe he really was okay.

austin went around to evelyn, who soon grew fond of him as her little cooking mentee. austin learning dinner dishes to desserts from all the classes he attended.

"the food smells lovely evelyn," his lower tone enveloped your heart and you hated how much he really did affect you. evelyn thanked him for his kind compliment.

"austin come and sit, the table is already made." cassandra offered the chair next to you and you panicked once more.

"hi again," his voice was smooth as he maneuvered his way around you to sit at the chair on your left. something about his tone and the way he held himself now felt like he was a stranger to you. like the guy you met before wasn't him at all.

or maybe a part of you saw him as broken and thought that you could be the one to fix him.

but your heart still stuck to that possibility. that this was all a front somehow. but you had no real reason to follow that thought. all you had was that pull on your heart.

"i like your suit," you gave him a weak smile as he thanked you kindly, pressing against the little wrinkled areas and loosening his jacket and tie.

"i just came back from dropping my girlfriend off at the airport so... i'm all yours for two weeks." he exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. your heart fluttered when he said that, but you knew it wasn't what he really meant.

evelyn and george placed the food on the table, a beautiful dinner feast for all of you. cassandra followed suit with the rest of the desserts as george popped up from his chair, running to get something.

"we forgot the wine!" he screamed from the hallway, hobbling back with two bottles. he eagerly poured an outrageous amount of wine in everyone's glass, left standing to offer a toast.

"to our new friend elvis," his toothy grin wide and proud as everyone raised their glass too. austin getting flustered as he tried to turn down the compliment, but evelyn insisted.

"and to my first cooking mentee, who i am so proud of," evelyn added, squeezing austin's cheeks. he laughed and you weren't sure why that sound hurt you.

you were the last to raise your glass as everyone cheered.

something about him being a part of the group should be celebrated, but you didn't know why it felt so painful. why him being a part of your life was hurting you.

or why him being happy killed you.

maybe because you wanted to be a part of that in his life, but knowing you couldn't be.

by the time you were done flooding yourself with all your conflicting thoughts, the dinner ended and all that was left was the chocolate cake in the center of the table. and you, picking at the icing with your fork.

you didn't remember anyone saying goodbye though, which made you feel even worse. you weren't exactly sure how much wine you drank either, considering your glass was empty. but you could've sworn it was full just a few minutes ago.

and then you saw him, coming back to your table. his blazer long gone and just his white dress shirt underneath. he looked disheveled but in a good way. something that showed he had a good time with his friends, which he did. he just wasn't sure if he remembered all of it.

"you want to bring the cake upstairs?" his voice felt like a blanket around you.

you looked at him with such confusion because... why would a kitchen have an upstairs?

"upstairs? why am i going upstairs?"

"because you need to go to bed."

"but i don't want to go to your apartment."

and his cheeks flushed red at your firm decision, feeling suddenly embarrassed for what you assumed. he did offer his arms for you to hold onto though, but you were hesitant to take it.

"i'm taking you back to your bed."

you sat there quietly, like you were debating whether or not to trust him. but you couldn't feel your legs so you had no other choice. and he smiled at you as you sat there and contemplated.

it wasn't long until he made the first move, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you up while the other hand made sure you draped your arm around his shoulder. it felt like you were floating off the ground, either you were so far gone now or he was a lot taller than you thought.

when you reached the elevator, he struggled with keeping you upright, multiple failed attempts along the way of you falling forward, which made him almost lose his balance. it was like trying to walk without knowing where to go and not feeling the ground beneath you.

austin finally made it to your door as he tried to fumble through your bag for your key, while you nodded off for a split second. he kept one hand on your head, placing you as close to his chest as possible so you wouldn't fall over again, which made you blush immensely. your arms limply fell around his neck and he didn't mind at all, not even reacting to the way you fit right into the crook of his neck. your face surrounded by the smell of his cologne and little wavy pieces of his hair. you wished you could stay here forever.

"you smell really nice austin..." your words slurring with wine in your breathe. "can i have your cologne?"

"of course you can."

he couldn't help but laugh, which felt like a sympathy in your ears.

he finally found your key, opening the door for you. he slowly let you move first as he followed suit, trying to hold on to the sliver of soberness he had left in him.

it wasn't until you saw your living room that you excitedly left the comfort of his arms and screamed at your furniture.

"oh my gosh... YOU HAVE THE SAME APARTMENT AS ME!!" you squealed, turning back around to pull him into a hug, almost knocking him back outside. he held you for a moment, convincing himself that this was the alcohol talking.

this was just the wine.

"we're in your apartment love," he remarked and you let go all of a sudden and he felt the emptiness with it.

"oh."

your voice sounded so heartbroken that he almost felt bad for smiling at you.

"then why are you in my apartment?"

"because i need to make sure you get to bed okay." the alcohol still wavering a bit in his balance as he tried to maneuver you towards what he assumed was your bedroom. and he assumed correctly.

"i can do it on my own." you protested, finding your bed covers. you felt the softness of your blanket before you collapsed onto the bed, letting out a long awaited sigh. your eyes closed as you tried to ignore him. him and your overly excited heart.

"do you want to change first?"

you perked your head up and suddenly felt the room spinning. you were adament in saying yes, but you couldn't move your legs again.

"go away. i can do it by myself." you whined, slowly getting up and then collapsing on the floor, giggling.

austin just looked at you, holding in a laugh. you tried to push him out of your room and it actually worked, but only because he fell over outside.

"and you stay outside until i'm done." you ordered, your voice stern but slurred.

getting dressed drunk was probably one of the most difficult tasks you had to do at this very moment. and you haven't drank like this since college so you were mixing which part of your shirt was meant for your arm and your head.

by the time you finally had yourself dressed, you opened the door to see austin lying on the ground. his eyes closed, sound asleep.

"austin..." you whispered, crouching over him. the alcohol making you see double for a moment before using the floor to ground you. "austin, you can't sleep here."

he fluttered his eyes open as he gazed back at you. oceans engulfing you in endless waves. his hair all messy now as he just looked at you with such intrigue. it was so inviting.

he was so inviting.

you could've done anything, but you couldn't. you knew you couldn't.

but he was just laying there, gazing up at you like he's never seen you before. like he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

you wanted to caress his cheek, play with his hair, tell him he could stay.

but you couldn't.

it broke your heart that you couldn't have him. that he was with someone else.

you mustered enough courage, enough strength for the both of you, and whispered ever so softly to him.

"thank you for taking care of me..." your words blending into each other, feeling as if you were so far away from him.

and without thinking, you let your hand fall on his cheek, moving the little strands of hair that fell onto his face. like it was something natural that you've done for years.

and he closed his eyes to your touch.

you started to tear up, pulling everything you had left in you just to smile at him. that somehow he needed reassurance for your heartbreak.

"your girlfriend is so unbelievably lucky to have you austin," your voice breaking at the end, wanting to so desperately do something. do anything.

but all you did was collapse on the floor next to him, your body feeling limp from all the alcohol. he hardly moved from where he was, your words sinking slowly into his chest.

the weight of everything settling into him.

and for the first time, you were the reason why his oceans went dry.

#austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler #fic writing #romance fiction #first fic #fuck i hate him so much

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adventuringblind · 8 months

Text

Oscar the Matchmaker: Chapter Five

Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: a deep dive into the readers background and a reappearance of a pair she never wanted to see again

Warnings: toxic relationships, mentions of past abuse, reference to SH, mentions and allusions to r*pe and SA, drugging, toxic media

Notes: it's long.... really really long 🫠

Masterlist

She didn’t hide her past relationship experiences. Partly because she couldn't.

Her and Oscar had been friends for years before they started dating. He'd been with her through many breakups. Most of them messy. Some of them even made him question humanity.

Her first relationship wasn't bad. A small one in high school with a guy. They found that they just weren't made for each other, and that was okay. It ended mutually.

Then, there was some experimentation. A few parties ended in interesting ways.

Then, her first series relationship. This was where she was in love, dated, and then fell in love again. She'd spent nights crying on her floor over it and long ass calls with Oscar, who had no clue what she was on about.

Then she tried to explain. Drunk one night and her brain attempting to throw her in the deep to drown her in dark thoughts. She'd come out to him and it was the first time she truly said it out loud to anyone.

Turns out her partner at the time was listening in and left her because of it. Many filthy words leaving his mouth that had her spiraling for weeks.

So she stopped dating all together. She put all her effort into racing. Her friendship with Oscar was also blooming. They had a way of understanding each other that nobody understood.

She explored having multiple partners. None of it ended well. Mostly couples just looking for a good time. It hurt. She wanted something real, and when they said it was, she was gullible enough to believe them.

In Formula 3, she met a couple. Not on purpose, she'd just been around town, and they started a conversation. One thing led to another, and she ended up being in a trio with them.

She spent a year with them. She thought it was a good year. She wanted so badly for it to be good. But Oscar saw right through what was happening.

They lived together, and she traveled. They lied and manipulated. They used and abused. She felt stuck. But she didn't feel like she could tell anyone to help her out of the situation.

She had to keep up appearances. She couldn't let anyone in. The fear of what it would do to her career at the age of eighteen weighed heavy on her. She was barely an adult!

She struggled that year. Everyone saw it.

Thankfully, her racing was improving. She wasn't winning as much as Oscar, but she was keeping up with him. They got to move up at the same time. The Redbull junior ranks wanted to move her up as soon as possible because of her potential.

Formula 2 was intense. Her partners were basking in the fact she couldn't will herself to leave.

Why did love hurt so much?

Her and Oscar were in her hotel room the night after a race in the early season. The fact that anyone would take advantage of her kindness made him angry. The fact that she'd been used for sex tipped him over the edge.

Then he saw the bruises littering her skin. The thin red lines that she'd definitely given herself. And he lost it.

He was her guardian angel. Helped her cut contact with them.

He'd helped her go get her things. It was the first time she'd even let him into the flat.

Red flag one: her room was separate. Their room was definitely big enough for all three of them, but it's like there was no trace of her.

Red flag two: it's like she only existed as a reprieve to them. There was hardly a trace on her anywhere. There were no pictures of all three of them. Her shoes and coats weren't even in the closet by the door.

She moved in with him after that. Then she just never left.

Neither of them were sure of when it happened. The growing feelings for each other were not going away. So they did something about it.

She was absolutely terrified to lose him. He was all she had in terms of stability. Her family didn't agree with her choices, and even though she stayed in contact, they didn't particularly try to be involved.

They'd taken it so slow. He was so gentle with her. She was the kind soul who wasn't afraid to defend him with her life. He was absolutely smitten.

Still is.

She looks at her two lovers in the press conference with her. Grateful that they are here because she tends to get certain questions that make her eyes roll.

Max loves to answer them for her. Oscar lobes to be sarcastic with them. Either way, it worked out, and she always ended up with a smile on her face.

The three walk through the paddock together. To everyone else, they were just close friends, and Max saw potential in them - or something like that.

Charles and Lando found out the hard way what was going on. Christian is supportive and is always making sure you guys have a safe space if neccecary. Logan has known the female and Aussie for long enough to know that something was going on and figured out out when he saw the three leave together late one night. Yuki was just outright oblivious, and she is grateful for that.

She didn't like people knowing. She'd been called things she never wanted to hear again. She'd had friends leave because of it. She'd lost family over her incessant need to have sex with more than one person. It made her feel gross, and She'd determined the best thing to do was not tell anyone.

Unfortunately, this weekend, she would get outed to the world.

Smiles are on the menu today. She couldn't be happier despite the fact her car is ridicoulusly difficult and arguably the slowest on the grid. Her three points are really nothing to scoff at when you take into account that fact.

They are in Silverstone. One of Oscar’s home races and he has new upgrades on his car. Why wouldn’t she be happy about that?

They agreed to meet between practices. The rendezvous being Max’s driver room. Mostly because Christian knew already which made Redbull the best option.

Whilst they were walking, she spots a couple familiar faces in the crowd. Her heart jumps to her throat and her body freezes with a feeling she can’t describe.

They catch her gaze and it’s like her her entire world falls apart. Her breath is heavy as they walk towards her.

Oscar follows her gaze to hopefully see what she’s seeing. He does. The couple walking towards them incredibly familiar.

She can’t register the two attempting to guid her away. Ducking behind corners and opting for the McLaren garage instead since it’s closer. Oscar successfully gets them inside undetected.

His hands are cupping her cheeks. The distant stare not helping his concern.

Max looks between them hurriedly. “What’s going on? I’m worried and I don’t understand why-“

“Her exes are here.”

Max wasn’t sure if this technically could be deemed a safety issue, but he doesn’t care. He sneaks his way through to the Redbull garage and locates Christian. The only person he knows who could help them out.

“Christian! Do you have a second to talk privately?”

He spins around on his heels to face Max. “Sure. Everything okay?” They start off in the direction of his office.

“We have an issues.”

“And by we you mean three, right?” They enter the space and Christian closes the door behind them and takes his seat at the desk.

He nods to confirm. “Her exes are here.”

“Your going to have to explain to me why that’s an issue. I don’t doubt there is one, but I can’t help if I don’t understand.” Christian had always been good at helping him understand exactly what he means.

“They abused her in ways that I can’t describe.” Max grimaces at the words. She’d told him the story. She’d struggled to breathe as she did so.

Christian leans forward over the desk. His gaze turned up to Max who decided not to sit. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Max’s voices is threaded with appreciation.

There was still no word from Christian when practice two starts. Max and Oscar had made sure she was safe before leaving her at her garage. It was terrifying being alone knowing that they are around.

She was under the assumption she’d never have to see them again. They didn’t follow racing vigorously and they lived in separate places. she probably let herself get to comfortable in that thought.

Practice two was harder but she managed to get some good laps in. She’s much less excited about getting out of her car. Leaving the car means talking to people and that was something she didn’t feel like doing at the moment.

she coax’s herself out of the car and slips into her driver room to catch a breather. Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she prays that it’s one or both of her lovers.

It’s not. Instead all of her phone is lighting up with messages from the PR team. Her mind goes blank reading the messages over and over again.

“We need to have an emergency meeting.”

She tried to listen, but everything was underwater. Franz and the PR team are seated around the table looking at the posts. Then looking at her. Then back at the screen.

Her exes had not so subtly posted pictures very clearly showing that the three of them were together at some point. The captions making bold allegations against her and what she supposedly did to them.

She knows the team can see she’s trying her best. Her performance coach came to sit with her when she saw the young drivers puffy red eyes.

She didn’t want anyone to know and now it’s out for the whole world to see.

Her manager goes over things with her before the separate for the evening. She’s not to say anything about it because technically speaking it’s not their business. She can choose not to answer.

Explaining to her team her story also wasn’t fun, but they needed to know. It did ease the pain when they all believed her.

She has yet to text either of her partners. They’d probably heard about it already.

She just slips back into her room in the motorhome and pretends things are okay for the moment.

Oscar didn’t know what to expect when Lando came into his room without even bothering to knock. At least he has clothes on this time.

“Mate! Have you heard from Y/N?” Lando scrolls through something on his phone. Despite his lack boundaries at times, the Brit is a good friend and is fiercely protective of the three of them.

“No? Is she okay?” Oscar can clearly see the anxiety in his body language. It’s concerning after the encounter earlier today.

“You may want to find her. I was on Twitter earlier, and these pictures with her exes, I’m assuming, keep popping up. They’re saying some nasty things about her. Like she used them or something.”

Oscar snatches Lando’s phone out of his hand. The pictures are awful to look at. She looked trashed. He remembered that night all to well. It was after this he’d helped her get out.

She’d been refusing them. Trying to keep them at a distance so she could eventually just leave. They weren’t getting what they wanted so they’d spiked her drink. She called him at around four in the morning, her voice broken and confused.

He’d gone to get her. It took everything in him not go inside and confront the two who did it. Then he spent the entire night cleaning her up. She was bruise and bleeding and shaking in fear over the fact she didn’t know what happened.

Now those pictures of her that she probably has no recollection of them taking are on the internet for everyone to see. Even more was that she’s being out to be the villain.

“I’ve only ever see you angry one time, but you have that look in your eye that makes you look like your plotting a murder.”

Max had a smooth FP2 and is now having a friendly conversation with GP. His race engineer confirming a few things and talking about some upcoming vacation plans.

Max smiles when he sees Christian approach the two. The other, however, looks solemn. “Max, have you looked at your phone recently?”

“No, why?”

“And you’ve seen no social media?”

“I don’t really like being on it, so also no. What’s going on?” Max is a bit frustrated now that his team principal isn’t telling him something.

“I’ll explain on the way there. We’re going to the AlphaTauri garage.”

Christian tugs Max along, and the Dutch sends the engineer an apologetic smile before walking next to Christian. “Please give me some context. I have no idea what’s happening.”

"Someone leaked photos of y/n. They aren't good, and they are saying she's the aggressor."

Did Max ever think he would be suppressing a litteral growl? No. But he is. The urge to hit something is becoming incredibly difficult to suppress.

The questions enter his brain at a pace he can't keep up with. Why would they do that? Is Oscar with her? Is she going to be okay?

The walk there is a blur. His mind to be occupied to register it until they get in the conference room. He assumes Christian told him what was going to happen on the way, but he was listening.

He feels slightly better when he spots the bright papaya color of Oscar, Zak, Mark, and someone who he assumes is Oscar's PR manager.

Max's PR manager is also at the table along with y/n's team. Though, the girl herself is missing. "Where is she?"

"Her trainer is trying to coax her out of her room." Comes the familiar voice of Franz Tost. He's a stern man. He has to be when he's dealing with rookies and drivers in their early careers all the time. Yet he can see the concern on his face.

Then Max makes eye contact with Oscar. Neither of them say anything, but it's obvious they are both frustrated. "And I'm assuming now that everyone in this room knows?"

All of them stare at him with confusion. Except for Oscar, who is mentally face palming at his partners current obliviousness. "No, only Christian does. I was here as emotional support as were you." Pipes the Aussie. Max groans in defeat.

Everyone looks between them expectantly. So Max looks at Christian, who nods his head, then at Oscar, who also nods.

"The three of us are dating."

To say there were a few shocked faces is an understatment.

She doesn't move when her pysio opens the door. She doesn't move when she hears Oscar and Max. She doesn't move when they sit next to her, and the door closes behind, leaving the three on their own.

"I know you don't want to right now, but there are people who want to help make this better waiting for us in the conference room." Max is straightforward and yet gentle at the same time. His hand on her knee is a reminder that she's not yet a ghost.

Still, she doesn't move. "Max may have outed us to the people in there." Oscar chuckles and attempts to lighten the mood. She smiles just a tad when Max grains and mumbles something under his breath.

"Were they upset?" She questions. Voice small and cracked from her previous crying.

"Nope. Not at all." Max kisses her head and Oscar gets up off the floor.

"Originally, the plan was that the two of us would make statements since we're 'close,' but now they reckon we should just come out to the world."

"Wouldn't that make things worse?"

"Not if we show everyone how happy you make us and how you wouldn't hurt a fly."

She takes a deep breath in and let's the boys help her up.

It was a terribly long meeting, and they are all exhausted.

The good outcome was that they would have the full support of their teams, and everything would come out on Monday.

The bad part is that she still has to get through this weekend. It's terrifying to think about.

They coached her through every possible question she might get asked. Again, terrifying. She didn't want the world to know nothing about this, and here she is, trying to memorize answers about what happened in a vague sense.

They slept in Max's room. The fear of leaving the conference room was so bad that Christian and her trainer actually made sure everything was clear before they left. The way up to the hotel room wasn't any better.

The two males had tried to get her to sleep, but her brain refused. Her thoughts on overdrive all night and into the early hours of the morning.

She didn't go anywhere without her headphones in the next day. The fans had lost their minds. People were calling for her to be replaced.

Her team made sure they kept people away from her. Some were becoming more aggressive, and it was unerving walking around.

The Redbull team had done its best to keep her and Max in close proximity to each other. While McLaren couldn't do that, Oscar was aloud to step away if needed.

Qualifying went about as well as it normally did for her. But she was still happy with her lovers. Oscar managed to qualify third, and Max is on pole next to one of his closest friends.

She got ushered off to get her interviews out of the way early. The hope being she wouldn’t have to deal with to many questions about the photos because of her less then ideal qualifying.

Her PR manager spent more time pulling her away from the invasive reporters then she spent answering questions. All she wanted wanted was to disappear by the end of it.

Thankfully they gave her time to breath before the debrief. They didn’t ask to much of her there either.

Yuki caught up with her afterward. They talked, but she wasn't engaged. She felt guilty because she knew he was trying to distract her while she waited to go back to the safety of the hotel.

Obviously, he knows now. There was no way of not telling him. He is spared all the details, but he is also supportive and is trying to be a good friend. Something she is grateful for while navigating this weekend.

Finally, it’s race day. The feeling of almost being done with the weekend makes her ecstatic to get in the car.

The booing from the crowd is downright unbearable. It’s once again the reason she has headphones in. Max and Oscar had been struggling with not intervening all weekend. The only thing stopping them being their plans come Monday.

Another race with an unsatisfying result. And to top it all of the media is asking her if it’s karma. Usually her PR manager is level headed, but now she looks like she’s ready to give her own statement.

Max had won and Oscar is fourth. She wants nothing more then to celebrate the fact the Aussie among them finally has a good car. But she can’t seem to pull her head out of the water. She’s drowning and she knows it.

She ends up catching a ride with Yuki back to their hotel. The hote that she was staying on regardless because max has the same one. It was convenient for the most part.

she does not go to his room however. She goes straight to hers and collapses onto the bed. Untouched and clean since she hadn’t touched it til now.

As much as she tries to stop them, the feeling of inadequacy and guilt creep around her skin. The idea that her two lovers would have an easier time without her finds the front of her brain. It’s suffocating.

Maybe this is all karma or something similar. Maybe she’s finally getting what she deserves.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She doesn’t take it out.

Then a knock at the door. Then another. And another.

Enough for her to get up and open it. Her mind assuming that it’s the boys looking for her.

She tries to put a smile on her face as she swings it open. Only for her exes to be standing on the otherside

Osacar looks at Max worriedly when the third call goes to voicemail. She’d sent them a text hours ago when she left the track. the two of them had been held up with post team celebrations and discussions.

Now they stand in Max’s hotel room that is noticeably lacking said female. They’d checked everywhere. Even in inconvenient places like cupboards and drawers.

“Do you think she’s in a different room?” Shouts Max from a different room.

“Like mine or hers?” He clarifies.

“We’ll think about what Yuki said.” Oscar thinks back to when they’d caught the shorter driver before they were taken to the media pen. He’d mentioned that his teammate felt she was upset when Oscar had an amazing race. He’d not thought about it much then. He’d had a feeling it would be hard and he was fine with it. But now-

“She’s isolating because of the guilt.”

It was one of her worst habits. When she feels guilty, she’ll shut them out and isolate herself even if she’s done nothing wrong. The anxiety throwing her into dark places that frankly scare the two males.

The first place they check is her room since it’s in the same building. A mere three floors below them.

They decided the stairs will be faster then waiting for the lift. Oscar almost trips down the steps which would make it faster, but it would also hurt. He blames the nerves for making it harder to control his body.

When him and Max are in front of her door, Max takes out the extra key card that he has. After Lando stole his room key, they made sure to get extras for each other. Something he's so glad they decided to so this weekend.

Max takes the lead this time around, putting himself between Oscar and the door then gently pushing it open. It opens with a small creak and the first thing Oscar notices is the sound of running water accompanied by an unfamiliar female voice.

The Aussie pleads with whatever higher power will hear him that it’s not her exes. Whispered begs fall from his lips as Max continues forward.

Clothes on the floor. Furniture knocked over. The bed sheets a mess.

Oscar is grateful that her room is smaller then Max’s. Everything is more compact and visible once you get past the entry.

Max looks around a bit and the Australian can hear his breathing pick up. Then he strides over to a corner in the room that Oscar couldn’t see due to Max being in the way.

What he sees after he moves breaks him. He wants to scream in anger. Let every person in the vicinity know just how fucked up this world is.

Her body lay curled in the corner, unconscious and naked. Bruises have started forming around her neck and thighs.

It takes Max mere seconds to be down at her side. Yet Oscsr can't seem to move his body. The overwhelming anger clouding his mind makes it hard for him to decided.

Max has her in his arms, assessing the damage done. Supposedly, whoever did this is in the shower.

"She needs a hospital." Oscar snaps out of his trance. Max is trying to tell him what's wrong with her, but he can't get his mind to focus. "I think I have an idea, but you have to trust me."

Oscar shakily nods his head to show he's listening. "What's the plan?"

Max looks at the girl him and Oscar wrapped so gently in a blanket. Lando looks at her and the bathroom door. "Why haven't you knocked their teeth out yet."

"Legal reasons, which is why you're waiting here with Oscar for the authorities. You're to keep them here while I get her to the hospital."

Oscar looks distantly at the girl, and Max can see the pain in his face. He'd been through this once with her already. The Australian wants to see them put away so badly.

Max had originally offered himself to stay with and wait. He knows the connection between the two in this is something he doesn't fully understand. But Oscar needs the closure more then him. He needs to see this through and he made that very clear to Max.

He places a kiss on Oscar's head before leaving. "Let me know when things are tied up, okay?" He hums, but Max can still see him staring. The familiar look of white knuckles gripping so hard at nothing.

With that, Max leaves the space and makes it to his car through back entrances. The staff understands completely and helps his get through the doors.

He made a point to warn them about the authorities arriving sometime soon. Though he's not sure when.

He also thanks himself for sprinting back up to his room to grab her clothes. Well- not her clothes. Max and Oscar's clothes because she likes them better. At this point, he just wants to make her as comfortable as possible, so he can't be bothered to care. Their clothes look cute on her anyway.

He sets her in the passenger seat and speeds off to the nearest hospital. It takes a few minutes to get there. The night traffic of the weekend still steadily makes its way through.

Finally, he pulls into the emergency entrance and runs her into the waiting room where hopefully somone can help.

Something inside him snaps, however, when he's being forced away from her. The nurses are trying to speak with him, but he can't hear what their saying as he watches them take her away.

Eventually, he's calmed himself down enough to answer their questions. Specifically the ones about her safety and if he knows her. The most awkward was explaining their occupation. Until someone recognized him, and then all hell broke loose, and they had to take him somewhere private.

The wait was terrible. He had to call Christian to help him get through it. The older man told him he'd get things sorted with her team and then come to meet him.

He almost fell out of his chair when Oscar's contact lit up his screen.

"Oscar! Everything okay? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Lando and I are getting ready to head to the hospital."

Max sighs with relief, but he can't help to notice the slight edge in his voice. "Did something happen?"

"Max... he said she deserved it. They both mocked her for leaving them. I couldn't take it anymore, so I hit him." The crack in Oscar's voice made the Dutch wince. "Lando pulled me off, and the authorities grabbed him before we could continue fighting."

"It's alright now, Jack. I know that angry feeling. But you can rest now knowing that they aren't going to be around ever again."

Max can hear the little sniffles and Lando's voice in the background telling them it's time to go.

"I love you, schat."

"I love you too, Maxy."

Her head hurts. Her body hurts. Her eyes hurt.

The steady beeping of machines and alcohol smell is doing nothing to help. Where is she?

She cracks her eyes open just a tad. Only to be met with white walls and the soft yellow of dim lights.

She mover her head around gently. An attempt at getting her surroundings.

Hospital. She's definitely in a hospital.

Oh god.

The memories from earlier play in her mind. They way they'd said they just wanted to talk. She was stupid to believe yet not strong enough to slam the door on their faces.

They did talk at first. Kind, like how they treated her before. Like when she thought she loved them. Maybe she did at one point, and that's how they got her.

She was dumb enough to leave her water glass in front of them. Idiotic enough to turn her back for a moment.

They spiked her drink with something, and it was all over from there. It felt and looked like they were trying to stage something.

She fought so hard. They just had the advantage. Like they've aways had. Two against one who's drugged is never a fair fight.

The beeping from the machine gets faster, and she finds herself entirely too hot and nauseous to continue lying down.

She shoots upwards, startling someone from outside the door. Her voice is hoarse as she screams for a bucket or something to which she ends up spilling her guts into. Their timing was impeccable.

"Are- are Max and Oscar here?" She asks a nurse when things calm down. The nurse says something, but the girl only registers the soft 'yes' that comes out of the nurses mouth.

The tears of relief pool in her eyes when she sees them. The two are quick to her side. She can see them trying to be strong for her. But she can see the tear tracks on both and Oscar's wrapped knuckles.

The nurses leave them alone for the time being. None of them broke the silence that lay between. Not that she could say anything if she wanted. The sobs were making it difficult to speak.

"They went away. They can't hurt you anymore." It's Oscar first.

She looks at him with something mimicking confusion. "I don't understand." She switchs her gaze between them.

Max intertwines her hand with his while Oscar sits on the edge of the bed. "We found you." Explains the Dutch. They were still there and so we called the authorities. We shouldn't ever see them again."

The weight that's been sitting on her chest for almost two years is lifted. She can breathe again. The deep wounds are certainly far from healed, but just knowing that they won't be coming close to her again brings a sense of justice.

Apparently, she'd been heavily drugged and was on the verge of death for a couple of minutes. It's given her a new perspective that she should live life less afraid then she has been.

Who cares if people see her as a slut? Who are the to judge!

Her hospital is currently home to Lando, Oscar, and Max. The three are preparing to send out the post that they'd originally planned as something else.

But with everything that's happened, a leaked video of Oscar's fight and someone tweeting that they saw Max at the hospital, plans had to change.

They all posted the same photo of the three of them on her bed. It's a cute picture even though she looks halfway to dead. Lando claims she shouldn't say anything because he's a great photographer.

It was terrifying, to say the least. The entirety of Redbull put out a statement last night. Nothing in depth about what happened, just what people are bound to find out given time.

Lando took their phones so they can't look at anything people are saying. Completely unplugged until they are forced to go back to racing.

She looked at the boys who were smiling because she was simply awake. Something she's not sure she could've seen herself doing a couple of years ago. And even if she's going to have to work on moving forward, at least she knows that she has two boys who aren't leaving her side.

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1-800-local-slut · 4 months

Text

Decisions

Rio x Black! Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, sad ending, lies and deceit, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, broken family, break ups, arguing, reader has a bad mom, mention of smut, kinda creepy Rio, abusive childhood, suicidal thoughts, recreational drug use, mentions of sex but no smut, Rio calls Beth annoying but make no mistake I love me some Beth, slight canon divergence, not proof read we die like men 💪🏾

Rio get’s close to the reader, due to him having an issue with her mother. He falls for her and they start dating but 8 months into their relationship she finds out the first six months of their relationship was a lie. She realizes she can’t trust him and dumps him.

PSA: The reader has an abusive mother and no father, there's only one mention of the reader getting punched in the face. If that's something that would trigger you then please don't read for your own sake

Please let me know if you guys enjoy!

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When he saw her for the first time, it was dark out. She was standing under the streetlight, waiting for her bus and Rio was standing in the bushes behind her. The light above made her luminescent, giving her dark skin and gorgeous glow. He didn't even know why it shocked him to see her there. He had been waiting for her after all.

It was a chilly April night, she was shivering. Rubbing her hands together and exhaling a puff of cold air. He even remembered thinking that it was weird how cold it was for April. She held her phone in her hand, her headphones lightly bled music. Rio could've stared at her all day, if only he wasn't here on business.

He needed to put some pressure on someone and this was how it needed to be done. Stepping out of the bush, Rio slid close to the target of the evening.

His eyes scanned her up and down, looking for some sort of entry point. She didn't notice him, he wasn't standing too close to her yet. With a final scan, he noticed the Jordan high tops that hugged her feet. Perfect.

Taking another step, a bigger step, he made sure his presence was known. Her eyes glanced up at him, a natural response. She carefully observed him, like she was deciding if she should take a large step away or just ignore him. The leaking music shut off and Rio fought back a smile. Best not to freak her out. It was time to finally put things into motion.

"Those shoes are nice, I was looking for a pair for my cousins quince gift but I couldn't find any in her size." Of course there was no way to start a conversation with a woman this late at night in t he middle of nowhere waiting for a bus without sounding like a creep but Rio was pressed for time.

She raised an eyebrow, and glance him up and down before she glanced at the time. Checking how much time before the bus came, smart.

"Thanks. I picked them up last week." Curt and to the point. Rio admired how quickly she went on the defense.

"They suit you. The color I mean. If you don't mind can I ask where you brought those? I just moved here, and I don't know where anything is." Her plump lips pushed into a straight line as if she was contemplating.

Mentally, he willed her to just go for it. Just take the bait, so the guy he had in the bushes who was about to take a few pictures for evidence could get something.

"Yeah, you just have to head to the store on 83rd. There's a place called Sole Symphony. You can get a good deal if you talk to the right person.

"Oh I passed that place on my drive in. I'm Rio, by the way." Extending his palm, Rio heard the bus pulling up behind them. Sure, he knew her name already. But what if he wanted to know more than just her name?

As she placed her hand in his and said her name, the doors of the bus slid open behind the two.

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"Baby what do you want to eat?" She was leaning on the arm of the couch, while Rio rested his head on her lap. Clad in one of Rio's black t-shirts, and a pair of his boxers that outlined that ass he worshipped. Under the lights of her living room, she still looked radiant.

"What, you can't cook?" Rio teased, only to be playfully swatted on his head.

"Stop being annoying, I'm ordering dinner because someone's stupid self forgot to go to the grocery store."

"I forgot to go because you wanted to play around all day, so had to I come home and handle business." Rio smiled, a true smile. A smile he hadn't had in a really really long time. She giggled and bent her face closer to his, and hummed. She rubbed her thumb over his forehead, in a way that made Rio shudder.

"I only did that because you finished all my weed and then got me the wrong strain. So maybe that's your fault?" Rio rolled his eyes playfully, and accepted the soft kiss she planted on his lips.

It filled him with a warm, thick feeling. If someone made love into soup, it was filling his stomach at this very moment. Giving him a full, heavy feeling that Rio never wanted to lose. After a second they pulled apart and Rio stared deeply into her eyes. She did the same, like she could see Rio baring his soul to her.

Every now and again though, he remembered though that this was merely temporary. He never, and he cannot stress how much he means never, let himself fall for someone he was using for business. Still, some rules were meant to be broken.

Whenever he remembered that fact, when he remembered that once his debt was settled with her mother (the whole reason he approached her at that bus station in the first place), his heart died a bit.

The past four months had been nothing but a mix of stress and bliss. Stress, the stress of accidentally hurting the person who broke into his heart. Bliss, from laying with her just like this. Every night, or going to dinner with her. How six months could change a man so much was beyond him. Just being with her, even if it was technically for leverage. Though he would never hurt her.

Still, if she knew, it would hurt her more than anything. It would be like a knife, piercing her heart before twisting and causing her to bleed out unstoppably.

Realistically, speaking anyone would be. If you knew your drug addict mother got herself in too deep and your boyfriend was only with you for leverage against her, you'd be pretty cut up about it, wouldn't you?

The drug addict mother, who started exhibiting psychotic jealousy at what seemed like the moment you turned 12 , and who punched you in the mouth after you refused to be nice to her new boyfriend, who you fought so hard to get away from after your nightmare of a childhood? Who told you everyday that not only were you not shit but you'd never be shit? The mother you don't even tell people you have, like the father you never met?

How would you feel to find out that after fighting your entire life just to live a life that wasn't filled with filth, bearing your entire being to someone (the only one who knew the truth), that finally when you found happiness none of it was real? All because of the mother who you don't even acknowledge, after fighting tooth and nail to get as far as you could from, was still giving you grief.

It killed Rio to know all of this too. To see the scars that she trusted him enough to explain. To explain why she's afraid to have children of her own, to understand what made her into the beautiful, strong and confident woman she turned into too. How could Rio hurt someone who accepted him so wholly?

It made him sick to think about. Honestly, he felt like a toxic rapper who does his woman wrong and everyone but her seems to know. He felt like the definition of shit.

"...be?"

"Huh?"

"Is thai food alright with you, babe?"

"Yeah. Yeah sorry I just dosed off for a moment." Just like that, her voice was like a light shinning through the dark. Her face reflected concern, and she ran a manicured nail over his cheek. On instinct he clasped her hand in his.

"What's wrong with you?" Her voice an even whisper. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her literally everything, and he meant everything. Everything about himself, not the partly fabricated tale he told her about his life for the sake of keeping her at an arms length.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Rio gave a small chuckle.

"Nah just thinking about you mamas." Rio smirked up at her and saw her playful eye roll.

"Boy, if you don't do something with yourself." She laughed with a the smile he'd fallen in love with, pinching him on his chest and he winced before letting out a laugh. Rio grabbed his pants from the side of the couch where he hastily threw them when he came home to 'handle business'. Pulling out his wallet, he plucked his credit card out of the folds. He chuckled and handed it to her, where it was gracefully accepted. Within seconds, Rio felt like he could feel the money being pulled from his heart and his card.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, you keep an ear out for the food." She announced, slipping out from underneath him and leaving his head to connect with the couch.

"Without me though?" He watched her walk out of the living room and to her bathroom, sliding the boxers off in the process. If anything she was relentless in her desire to tease him.

"Don't be gross." She chastised, tossing her shirt off behind her and Rio admired her perfect body before she was out of sight and the door behind her closed.

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"Flowers?" Beth raised an eyebrow at the large bundle in the back of his car. Rio glanced back, the flowers and immediate reminder of what was waiting for him right after this. He couldn't even fight the grin. This girl had him feeling butterflies, kicking his feet and giggling when she wasn't even there and it was only eight months.

"For my lady." It was Fall now. The changing leaves reminded Rio of his changing heart, his changing mind. How he changed so much in the last eight months in so many ways that he couldn't even describe.

Coming up on their eight month anniversary and Rio wasn't even close to playing when it came to celebrating. That big ass bouquet was just the first part. He had a pair of matching necklaces for the two of them, a set of twin cuban links with a nice romantic saying, 'Semper Fidelis' (Always Faithful) carved into them.

Especially since his relationship with Beth had been a recent source of anger between the two. In all fairness, Rio told her he was involved in the stock market, which technically wasn't a lie. She knew he did something illegal though and didn't seem to care as long as neither of them got arrested.

What he didn't explain was what a big tittied white woman was doing calling his phone in the middle of the night and why she sounded so upset when she answered instead of him. Or why there were so many calls between the two of them when Rio was at work when Rio requested she don't blow his phone up when he's at work. Or why when he came home early to have lunch with her he had to leave in the middle because Beth had been blowing his phone up during their entire meal.

Honestly though, Rio knew better than to trip about it. Shit, Rio knew he wasn't even feeling Beth's annoying ass like that. If it was him, some dude called his girl in the middle of the night then had the audacity to sound annoyed when HE answered the phone? He would've flown off the handle before the call even hung up. He'd be out of bed, pulling up his pants and boxers, grabbing his gun and his keys and half way into his shoes.

"You have a girlfriend?" Beth asked, eyes bugging out of her head, mouth open in shock. Why did she look like a salmon?

"You sound shocked. I got game, Elizabeth. Anyways, about your issue tell your FBI man that I hit or whatever." Pushing down the button, she still sat there gaping at him.

"What...?" She blinked, hushing her voice as if someone was gonna hear them. Part of him wanted to tell her to get the fuck out so he could get the fuck home. But in the past eight months, he learned how to have a bit more patience.

"Tell him we made love." Wiggling his eyebrows he made a motion for her to get out of his vehicle and she made her way out. Thank God.

Turning on his engine he winded down the window of the passenger window.

"Make me sound good." And with that he was gone.

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As crazy and inebriated as her momma was for most of her childhood, sometimes she was smart. Like when she taught her how to fight when those girls at school wanted to jump her. Like when she taught her and her sisters to never and she meant NEVER leave your sister in a pinch no matter whats going on between you three. When she taught her how to hot wire a car, and especially when to know if a man was lying.

There were more life lessons, like how to make a crack pipe on the go or how to hide from the police but what can you really learn from someone who was drunk as shit most of your life?

So imagine how shocked and confused she was when she realized 'dang. my momma was right, all niggas are liars.' because her boyfriend had been lying to her their entire relationship? Was it lying or omission? Was she gonna pack her shit and leave without a word to his no-good-low-down-lying-scheming-dirty-bastard self, or put hands on him and go to jail? Lots of decisions for a girl to make in one night. One thing she did decide on the moment she got that phone call from her mom this morning, and got those photos that were taken that first night they met: it was over.

She wished all she felt was anger but that was a lie. With Rio, no Christopher, things were easy. She really was in love, he made her heart swell up like a balloon. When she was at her worse, he was right there and understood and helped her in the best way he could. Understood her anger, understood her sadness. Whatever choice she made, he stood behind it no matter what. He wasn't the type of guy (maybe he could've been, it was clear that she had no clue who he really was) to just sit there and act like he always knew better than you. No, he listened to her, gave her an ear and when she asked for it advice.

This hurt. This wasn't just sadness and betrayal, it was despair. To know that after she fought to get away from her mother. After she got up, walked out that house with nothing but the clothes on her back and said 'if i'm homeless i'm homeless, but its better than being with you' and never saw her again it was only because of that woman that she met someone who she was so head over heels for.

Because of that woman she was sitting here, heart broken. She was sitting here, after sobbing her eyes out in disbelief, after deleting every single picture of the two out of her phone. She was sitting here drowning in rage and betrayal. No. No for once, she couldn't put all the blame on her.

Christopher made the choice to play in her face. He made the choice to waste eight months of her life. To lie, and say he loved her like would be the only woman for him. He probably was cheating on her with that white bitch (with a name like Elizabeth she had to be) and they were probably laughing at her for the past eight months cuddled up together. He made the choice and she fell for it. Outside, the lights of his car pulling up roused some sort of rage deep inside of her. A little voice in her head spoke, it said take a bottle to the backside of his head.

Taking the bottle of liquor next to her, and rearing her arm back over her head she pondered if she was really going to listen to that little voice.

It an easy decision to make.

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"You stupid fuck! Really Christopher, this is what we on?" The scream, and the bottle hitting the wall right next to the door was his greeting. Not a 'hi baby, how was work' like usual. He could already guess he was not about to hit tonight.

"What the fuck? What is your problem?" He yelled back, in this instance he was justified in his screaming considering the murder attempt.

"My problem? My problem? You dickhead, your my fucking problem! You thought shit was sweet? You thought I was just gonna let it slide?" She laughed, anger literally rolling off her.

Taking a moment to look around Rio noticed a few things: the photo of them that was on the table next to her couch was tipped over, the glass shattered the frame on the ground. There was a half empty bottle of wine and a broken glass in the sink. There was a manilla folder, one that he was praying he didn't recognize (but he was starting to think he did), clutched in her shaking hand. Her curly hair was a mess, like she'd been tugging at it in anger.

Sure he knew she'd always been a little bit crazy, he was actually really into it, but did he think this was how their eighth anniversary would start? Nope.

His stomach started to drop. It had been a few months since his business with her mother ended and he was truly hoping from the bottom of his heart hoping she would never find out. He ruled out her mother somehow finally worrying about her enough to tell her.

"What is that?" Rio asked, slamming the door behind him and stepping into the apartment fully. Her neighbors only needed to hear the first part of their exchange, nothing more. She took three defiant steps backwards. The lights were all off, and only the TV was on.

"Got this in the fucking mail today." She growled, throwing the packet at his face. Clear as day, the pictures he had taken of them. For proof. One the first night they met, two on their first date, three when they went to the arcade together and played every game you both could manage and he found himself really trying to impress her. That was when he realized her had a bit of a problem. Then a few more, but eventually they stop after the first two months of their relationship.

The next four months of them being together he resorted to threats and by some miracle her mother found a way to pay off her debts and he was done with her by month six. But not using her for only two out of eight months of their relationship was not a good look.

An awkward silence settled over the two, his stomach feeling heavy. He started to feel warm from shame and fear. The room felt like it was spinning and his mouth felt dry. Even before she said it he knew that he just lost the best thing in his life.

"And some phone calls. Not only did you fucking use me, you also threatened my mom and found my sisters houses?! You dickhead, I'll kill you." She roared, throwing a near by object, which he narrowly dodged.

"Why did you play in my fucking face? For eight fucking months you decided to play in my face and be laid up with me and act like you love me, are you serious?" His head hung low, shame and disappointment and anger. Anger because he knew one thing for sure, this was no ones fault but his. He made the decisions he made. That was on no one but him.

"What you can't fucking talk now? You don't know words? But when that hoe Beth called you could sit up on the phone with her about bullshit right?" She yelled. Rio couldn't even find words. Where should he even start? Beth seemed like the worse place to start.

"Right?" She yelled again, getting in his face before stepping back and breaking into deranged laughter putting a hand on her forehead in outrage. He was panicking. What did he do? Yell at her when he knew he was wrong? Yell at himself for hurting her? What was he even supposed to do in a situation like this? A dry and tear-filled laugh shook him from his thoughts.

"Why though? Why did you do this, I trusted you. I gave you my heart, I gave you my fucking everything. If you can't trust you, then what can I trust?!" The broken sob cut through Rio like a knife. She threw her arms out and drunkenly staggered a bit. She stared, eyes pleading for an answer. An explanation. Anything? But for the first time in a long ass time, Rio had no idea what to say. He felt his palms sweat, gaze still fixed on the photos.

She would never smile at him the way she was in those pictures again. And she grinned as bright as the Sun in each photo except for the first.

When she was still met with silence, Rio resigned. He wanted to say something. Damn, why couldn't he speak? Why was he just sitting there? She was just as confused (surely more confused) as Rio.

"I can't believe this. I let you in and you really sat there and played with me. And you really don't got shit to say either? Well guess what nigga, it's done. I'll die before you hear my voice again, before you ever seem me again. And I could sit up here and yell and scream at you but you know what my momma taught me? As worthless as she was she taught me one thing: the best way to hurt a man is to move on. Get the fuck out." And just like that, before Rio could even say a word it was all over.

The next few minutes were a blur. A trash bag with all his shit was thrown out the window after he was shoved out of her apartment. All the gifts he'd gotten her, the shoes, the jewelry, even her cart that had her name custom printed on it, were tossed out there too. Rio sat out there, outside her apartment complex for what felt like hours.

Shit it probably had been hours. The flowers in the back taunted him. He wanted to stomp on them, he wanted to kick and scream at the world. Why did he fucking do that? For his job of course. Fuck that job, look where it got him. Standing outside the apartment of the love of his life.

Worse, he didn't even speak to defend himself, and she tossed him out so quick that it left his head spinning. He wasn't even sure how he walked to the elevator and made his way to his car. He wanted to die, he wanted to collapse, he wanted to go all the way back in time and tell himself to call off everything and meet her some other way. Now he lost everything that could've been lost to him.

And it was all because of his decisions.

Taglist:

@eddiemunsonreader

#black reader #x reader #fem reader #x black reader #rio x reader #rio good girls fanfiction #nbc good girls #rio good girls

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thestrangestthing89 · 1 year

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This is going to be ranty and I've touched on this subject before. So if you're a Steve worshipper look away. For the record, I love his character but I cannot stand the constant mischaracterization of him. It turns him into a joke. He's not a mom and the comparison is frankly sexist not to mention shows how much people are willing to overlook with regard to his character. Joyce does triple the amount of work and is an actual mom, so if you want to praise someone for being a mom look to the real one. Instead she gets practically ignored by the fandom. Steve does the bare minimum compared to a lot of people and gets worshipped, and the result of this is that people end up turning him into a 1 dimensional version of himself. He has flaws and it's important to acknowledge them. He's far more interesting and relatable this way. Without doing that he gets turned into a god-like figure who is infallible. But the worst of this is the constant erasure of Jonathan. I keep seeing posts saying that Steve would be such an amazing mentor to Will and how wonderful their relationship will be next season. Be for fucking real. They don't have a relationship and never will and Will doesn't need him. Not to mention the fact that Steve isn't a mentor. He is a peer. And only to Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Erica who are the only kids who are shown to have any kind of relationship with him. And honestly Dustin is the only one that isn't superficial. It's especially notable in the case of Mike that they never developed a relationship. It shows that not only are Mike and Nancy not that close, but her ex-boyfriend never bonded with him. Mike tends to respond to Steve with the same contempt he has for his father in the brief moments we've seen between the two.

It's Jonathan who is an ally to Will. It's Jonathan Will and Mike trust. It's Jonathan Mike has known since he was 5. And it's Jonathan who has constantly protected them. Neither one of them have a relationship with Steve. All of these characters have been on the show since the beginning. If Steve had a major impact on any of their lives they would have shown it by now. And yes, Steve is no longer the bullying asshole he once was. He has gone through a great character arch that has shown him growing and changing in a realistic way. However, he still has a lot to learn and this was demonstrated through his shitty advice to Robin early in the season. Him dismissing her fears of asking Vickie out was not ok and shows he doesn't fully understand her point of view. Just because he ended up being right at the end doesn't excuse the fact that he told her to just ask Vickie out simply because she paused a movie at a certain time. He could have very easily been wrong and it was valid that she was hesitant.

Steve used to bully people for being gay, and again, it's good that he doesn't do this anymore and has grown. But this is the version of Steve that Will, Mike, and Jonathan know. They know the version of him that called Jonathan the f word and said his brother deserved to die. They know the version of him that said their abusive father was right. Mike and Will are not coming out to Steve.

In fact, people should expect them to be afraid of him and expect Jonathan to immediately be on guard and protective. Because this is the only version of him they know. Steve was known around town for being a bully and he still has this reputation - Eddie says this season he is surprised Steve wasn't an asshole even though Dustin insisted.

Mike and Will are two scared kids who live in a town that behaves the way Steve used to. They expect this kind of reaction. It's Jonathan's calm, empathetic support they need. It isn't the guy who used to be homophobic - and honestly has no patience for the kids - to help them out. Quiet, sensitive Will does not need someone loud and impatient who used to act like his abusive father in his life. And it's not on Mike and Will to absolve Steve of his past crimes.

And I absolutely cannot stand all the headcanons that I see of how Steve is going to start a LGBTQ support group around Hawkins for Robin and Will. It's utterly ridiculous. We absolutely do need Robin bonding with Will (and Mike and Vickie) but there is honestly no excuse for the constant insertion of Steve into this narrative. It is not a place he belongs. As an ally, it's important for him to recognize there are spaces that aren't for him. They do not need his permission or approval to talk to each other.

And bonding with Robin does not automatically come with a close bond with Steve. It isn't required. She is her own separate person who has her own separate experiences that Steve does not always need to be apart of just because they are friends. It's far more impactful to see a moment between Will and Robin (including with Mike and Vickie) without Steve randomly being there saying pointless shit. And they aren't wasting a moving coming out moment with Steve and Mike and Will instead of with people they are actually close to. Inserting him into this narrative changes the focus from the LGBTQ character to Steve. It makes it entirely about him and his response instead of them. In fact it's not outside of the realm of possibility that he just never finds out or it's a very quick moment that happens in passing. But erasing his characters actual role on the show completely misses the point of why he's still in this narrative. The cool guy isn't the focus of this story for once. It's not his story. That doesn't mean he isn't important. It means that for once the straight, white dude who's conventionally attractive is taking a backseat and not only that, but he's not resentful about this. He doesn't act bitter that he isn't the focus. And this is such an important role to see.

#byler #mike wheeler #gay mike wheeler #will byers #jonathan byers #steve harrington #anti mileven #anti stancy

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promiscuouscutie · 5 days

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All Yours pt. 8

Ethan Landry x fem. Reader, reader is a little naive and Ethan’s obsessed, eventual smut Word Count: 5026 WOAH

Warnings: There are descriptions of emotional abuse such as manipulation, pressure for sex, and coercive behavior in this part, descriptions of murder and gore, losing virginity, fingering, p in v hehe, nonconsensual videotaping, voyeurism, CASON UH OH

A/n: THE SMUT IS HERE ;) EVERYONE BUCKLE IN!!!! I'm so tired pls enjoy :)

This is cute, right? You stared at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the purple spaghetti strap that had fallen off your shoulder. The top stopped above your belly button, paired with white pajama pants plastered in pink flowers. Your feet were bare, no socks or slippers covering them. You could hear Anika humming outside the bathroom, putting on more lip gloss.

"Come out already! Stop doubting yourself," she called out. You sighed, mustering up the courage to step out from behind the closed door. Her eyes found yours, lighting up. "Look at you," she spoke with awe.

"Thanks for helping me pick this out. It looks good on me, right?"

"Of course! Everything looks good on you, c'mon now!" She almost laughed. She squeezed the cheeks on your face with her hands, staring into your soul. "Tonight is gonna go great. No matter what happens."

"What if he wants to..you know.." You trail off.

"Ethan's a sweet guy. I bet he's a virgin too. If he's not, I'm sure he'll be gentle with you. The boy couldn't hurt a mosquito," Anika reassured. You nod along, but her words didn't help. You were terrified. You didn't even know what would happen tonight, let alone if you were having sex. A part of you wanted to, but the act scared you. You were a virgin, never letting someone touch you that way. You had a boyfriend in high school, a short relationship. He wanted your body; he wanted things you weren't ready to do. You dumped him in the hall by your math class, leaving him speechless. But now you were older, with a boy you trusted with your life.

Anika bit the inside of her cheek as she rubbed your cheek. She could see she wasn't helping. She sighed, "It's gonna go good. I promise. Just tell Ethan how you feel and what you want, okay?" You took a deep breath before Anika embraced you, smelling jasmine on her clothes. It was a quick hug before she reminded you of her plans with Mindy; they were having another study date at Mindy's place, which would probably turn into a sleepover. You and Ethan would have the place to yourselves, no concerns of any interruptions. She grabbed her bag, blew you a kiss and rushed out the door, leaving you alone in the dorm.

You stood by the bathroom meekly for a few seconds, until you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Someone was calling you, an unknown number. Should I answer? You hesitated, but let the call go to voicemail. What if it was Ghostface? What if this was a setup for you to be killed? You could be their next victim. It didn't take long for the phone to vibrate in your hand again, making you bite your lip. What was so tempting about answering an unknown caller?

The phone vibrated for the third time, but no call. The same number messaged you, and you felt relief wash over you as you saw it:

Don't freak out bunny, it's just Cason. I'm calling from a friend's phone -cason

So it's not Ghostface calling. Good. But why would Cason be trying to reach out? You thought he shut you out or forgot all about you after you refused to go on a date with him. But apparently, that wasn't the case.

You nibbled on the skin on your lip as you typed out a message:

What do you want? -you

I've been texting you for days. Did you block my number? -cason

I thought it'd be for the best -you

But I miss you. I miss our sessions. It's been really hard without Michelle yk? -cason

You sigh, leaning against the beige wall. He did seem sad when you saw him last, almost lost without his arm candy. If only you could see he was trying to replace Michelle with you, have his hand glued to your body in public, marking his territory in front of his friends. He didn't want companionship; he wanted a shiny trophy to glorify. But you were still the same naive girl, always giving others the benefit of the doubt, easily swayed.

I can't imagine how you're feeling Cason -you

Let's meet up to talk tomorrow. pls? -cason

idk cason. -you

Just as friends, bunny. I promise -cason

You promise? -you

cross my heart -cason

fine. We can meet for coffee on campus tomorrow. Is noon ok? -you

1:30. Don't be late -cason

Your stomach swirled at the conversation, filling your throat with bile. A part of you felt curious, wondering how the conversation would go tomorrow. But the rest of you felt sick. You felt dirty, like you committed a crime. What would Ethan think? Oh god. Ethan. What would he say to you about this? Would you even tell him? You had to, right? But how would he take it? That was the true question. You knew he didn't like Cason; you didn't know how deep the hatred ran, however. He was the one who convinced you to block Cason's number in the first place. And here you were: making plans to have coffee tomorrow afternoon.

30 minutes went by, so you checked the time: Ethan was late. The punctual boy himself was still not here. You yearned to focus on something, anything else. So you threw yourself in sweeping the floors, adjusting the pillows on the couch, and getting a furry white blanket for you and your boyfriend. You wanted the place to look extra nice tonight. You even made some buttery popcorn for the movie, putting them in two white bowls. You could feel yourself sweating over simple tasks, indicating the anxiety hadn't gone away or even dwindled. What if I smell bad? You immediately rushed back into the bathroom, wiping the sweat away and spraying your favorite perfume all over your body.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again. It's gonna be fine. He'll be here soon. He promised. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, but they dissipated once you heard a knocking at the door. You rushed out of your bathroom and checked through the little hole at your door who it was. You beamed at the sight of Ethan, swinging the door open to greet him with a tight embrace. He inhales your scent and let out a low groan. He missed you deeply, yearning for the past few hours to go fly by. You grab his hands and lead him inside your dorm, shutting the door behind him.

His hands find your waist. "I'm sorry I'm so late. I got caught up talking to my dad on the phone," he professed. The lie left his lips easily, and you believed it. He was getting better at this, telling you fantasies and seeing the light in your eyes spark brighter as he praised you, telling you how much he missed you. So what was the truth? The truth was simple: he was on his way to your dorm when Quinn called him with an idea:

"How about you complete this murder yourself, and I help with the body?"

"Why me? Dad ordered you to do it."

"I know, but think of how proud he'll be! You, his son, taking the initiative."

"Quinn c'mon. I really don't think Mia needs to die."

"Think of it this way: she's a threat to you and your little plaything. If Mia tells your girlfriend anything incriminating to us, she'd look at us as the killers and turn us in. You know that."

He did as Quinn suggested: he killed your classmate, Mia. One minute she was walking down the street from a coffee shop, and in a second, she was grabbed by a cloaked figure, masked under the night.

Ethan was sloppy about it; Mia struggled in her last moments. Ethan was incredibly frustrated by this; she simply didn't want to die. She clawed at his body, kicking and mustering up all the strength she could to wiggle out of his iron grasp. She dug her nails through his cloak, leaving marks on his arms. He tuned out the sound of her screams, thankful no one could hear her over the sound of traffic. He loosened his hold on her when he slashed her throat. He stood over her as she grabbed her throat, choking on her own blood. He watched the light in her brown eyes disappear.

There was something about all that blood, the way a pool formed underneath her corpse. It made a striking resemblance to paint; he liked to paint, once upon a time. Well, he liked to watch his mother paint. He found it entrancing. As a child, he'd sit at the dinner table with construction paper and Crayola paint, mimicking his mother's stroke movements on her canvas.

"I was getting worried that you weren't coming," your words come out in a whisper. Ethan could see you jut your bottom lip out, pouting. A part of him wanted to pull on that lip with his teeth, tugging it, maybe even biting down hard enough to draw blood.

"Well I'm here now," he whispered to you before kissing your right cheek. Your face heats up as he lets go of you, walking over to the couch. He spots the bowls of popcorn and smiles.

"So have you decided what you wanna watch?"

"Yeah! I still wanna watch a scary movie, so I was thinking we could watch The Conjuring!" you suggested.

"Just the first one? Or do you wanna watch all three?"

"We can start with the first one and go from there," you grab the remote to turn on the TV. Ethan slipped his backpack off and set it behind the couch. Ethan rushed to your dorm after the fresh kill, shoving his Ghostface attire inside the bag. He didn't leave a Ghostfack mask at the scene, letting it slip his mind. Since it was unlike the other kills him and his family did, he hoped the police would look elsewhere, thinking another copycat was out there. Right? He pushed the thoughts aside and plopped down on the couch, adjusting his Friday the 13th black graphic shirt.

He decided to wear something more casual, sporting a shirt he wore around his dorm. He had plenty of other horror graphic shirts like Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Terrifier, and so much more. He didn’t think much of his outfit until you sat beside him on the brown couch. You two looked like total opposites. He liked that though; he couldn’t get over your outfit. The tank top made your tits look amazing, just ready to groped and sucked. But he was getting ahead of himself. Focus on the TV, Ethan.

As the movie began to progress, you found yourself gnawing on your lip. You nuzzled against him, feeling his hand rub your right hip. You had a white blanket over the two of you. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his body rise and fall with every breath. His body radiated heat, inviting you to move closer. As a jump scare appeared on screen, you gripped his shirt on his chest out of impulse. You could feel his heartbeat picking up faster at your touch, making your face feel warm.

The two of you hadn’t done much talking since the movie started. Anytime you felt the urge to speak, you bit your tongue. You felt guilty, as if you were keeping a secret from him. It’s not like you had feelings for Cason. But you knew Ethan didn’t like him. You knew he’d be upset with you.

Ethan could sense your uneasiness. “What’s wrong?” He asked. You lifted your head up and stared into his brown eyes. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You couldn’t bear to tell him about Cason; you guys were doing so well already and didn’t want to have your first argument. After all, the relationship started only a couple days ago.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you lied. Ethan grinned, lifting his hand from your hip to cup your cheek and squeeze it. You laughed at the feeling, pushing his hand away playfully. You think he’ll put his hand back where it was, but he doesn’t. He places it on your left thigh instead, causing your breath to hitch. His attention was directed towards the TV, but his brain was not registering anything. He touched you with lustful intentions, but now he was frozen. Despite always imagining you in crazy positions, crying and moaning like a pornstar, he never acted. Again, this was the boy who never kissed a girl before you, let alone hold hands with another girl that wasn't related to him.

He had gotten so used to watching you through the hidden camera in your room, jerking off with your lacy panties he stole from your dresser. He watched you undress and play with yourself, even if you did it under your covers. His imagination came in to help, trying to picture your naked body the best he could without ever seeing it. He couldn't believe he didn't think of doing this the moment he met you. What changed? Was it the thrill of the killings? The chase? The idea you were a doll? Maybe a puppet he wanted to control? He didn't understand, but didn't want to think further. Killing should be the farthest thing on his mind right now.

"Ethan, do you want to sleep with me?" Your meek voice brought him out of his head. He practically whipped his head in your direction.

"What?" He took his hand off your thigh immediately, his cheeks becoming crimson red. You lift your head off his shoulder. "Just be honest with me, E." For a moment, the two of you just stared into each other's eyes as the movie played in the background. Ethan could barely form a thought, let alone speak. You thought you made him uncomfortable, immediately averting your eyes and looking down at your lap.

"Forget I said anything. It was a stupid question," you mumbled.

"Do you wanna sleep with me?" Ethan asked.

"I mean...it's crossed my mind. I've just..I've never.." you trailed off, feeling embarrassed. His eyes were like saucers; he couldn't believe it. You were a virgin like him? His cock throbbed in his pants at the realization.

"You've never had sex?"

"No. It's crazy, huh?"

"No! I mean, I just didn't realize you were...like me." You finally looked at him as it sinks in: he was a virgin too. Truth be told, you weren't surprised. But you wouldn't tell him that, of course.

"I mean I've done things, some things. I just haven't done that," you awkwardly laughed. His hand finds yours under the blanket, rubbing the skin of your hand. "What kinds of things?" His interest was reaching its peak more and more.

"Well, I've had a boyfriend. In high school. I gave him a handjob, and he fingered me. But we never got past that," you stated.

"Did you just never feel ready to have sex with him?"

"Pretty much. I didn't feel safe and comfortable enough around him to get to that point, and he hated that. We got into arguments over it, and he'd try to pressure me." The memory of him trying to push you down to his crotch, wanting you to give him head, it made you sick.

"Did he threaten you?" Ethan asked, his eyes growing dark.

"Yeah. Once. He threatened to break up with me, so I broke up with him. Ever since then, I've just been hesitant." Ethan's heart ached at the thought of someone hurting you like that. He wished he met you sooner. He could've taken this ex of yours out of the picture permanently, saving you like you were his princess and he was your knight in shining armor. He let go of your hand to caress your face, noticing the tears welling up in your eyes. He pulled you into his lap, embracing you tightly. You could feel his lips brush over your temple and then your ear as he whispered sweet things to you:

"You don't deserve that."

"You're a sweet girl."

"You're my sweet thing."

" I'll never hurt you."

I'll never hurt you. Those words echoed in your head, wishing you had heard that in high school. Why couldn't you have met Ethan in high school? You would've had the biggest crush on him from the start. The tears fell down your cheeks, and you tried to rub them away. Ethan pushed your hands, rubbing the tears away for you. Don't cry, pretty thing. I'll make you feel better. Wouldn't you like that?

Your hands rested on his chest as he admired your teary-eyed face. Your bottom lip jutted out as you pouted, feeling slightly embarrassed for crying in front of your boyfriend. He dragged his thumb across your lip, starting to lean closer. Your noses bumped against each other for only a second, until he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You kissed him back, feeling his tongue brush against your lip. You let out a small moan, letting his tongue enter your mouth and explore. Ethan's nails dug into your back as you grind in his lap, right on his cock. He stifled a moan until you moaned into his mouth at the friction. He pulled from your lips and kissed down your neck, feeling your hands dig into his brown curls. He let out an unapologetic whine at the pain, the noise going straight to your pussy. You were incredibly startled by his behavior, but you loved it. It fed the hunger growing in your lower stomach, and you wanted more. You missed the feeling of his lips on yours already, so you brought his face back up to yours and kissed him desperately.

His bulge hit your clit just the right way, making you jolt and pull on his scalp more. His hips bucked up, making you moan in each other’s mouths.

“I want more, Ethan. I need it. I need you,” you begged. Ethan could barely contain his emotions. You want me? I’ll give you all of me right now. I’ll press you against the window for all of New York to see.

“Can we move this to your room? Wanna make you comfortable,” he suggested. You nodded; Ethan wasted no time picking you up and making you squeal. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you across the apartment to your bedroom, letting the smell of vanilla hit you both. He placed you on your bed, rushing to shut the door. He double-checked the window, making sure the white curtains shrouded curious eyes. He glanced at the hidden camera, noticing the lens immediately. He’d remember to watch the footage from tonight on repeat, moaning into your stolen panties with his hand down his boxers.

Ethan turned around, noticing the nervous expression on your face. It made his heart race, knowing you felt the same as him. He walked across your room, standing in between your legs.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered before kissing you. You grabbed the waistband of your pajama pants, sliding them off your body. Ethan kicked them aside, getting ready to take your top off. You instantly grabbed his hands, stopping him from lifting your tank top. He looked into your eyes, waiting for a response.

“Not yet.” That was all he needed to hear, moving his attention to your soaked panties. He pressed a finger to your clothed pussy, dragging it all the way up to your clit. You quivered at the feeling; you never noticed how big his hands were.

“Can I feel you around my fingers, pretty? Would that make you feel good?” He asked with honey in his voice.

“Yes.” You let a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as he climbed onto the bed, making you back up against your pillow. He crawled in between your legs, slowly pulling your panties off. He kissed you again, not getting enough of the taste of your lips. One of his hands began to play with your clit while the other groped one of your tits. Your breathing became heavy as the kissing continued, struggling to catch your breath. You bucked your hips up as his hand traveled lower, slipping a finger inside. You could barely sit still; you needed more friction. You grind into his hand, gripping his hair and cupping his cheek. He finally broke the kiss, something you both needed. He let out a breathy laugh, realizing he could’ve passed out. Not that he would care; he’d die happy knowing the last thing he felt was your lips and your pussy clenching around his finger.

He slipped another finger inside, aiming to curl them and go deeper. You moaned at the feeling, pulling his hair harder. Ethan lowered his head to pepper your collarbones with wet kisses, moaning against your skin. Do I have a pain kink? What’s up with me?

“Can you go faster, E? Just a little? Please?” Your voice was high, almost cracking on the last question. He did as you asked. Afterall, how could he not? He wanted to please you, make you feel as good as he did when he touched himself to the thought of you. Your back arched at the change of pace, and you let go of him to touch your chest. You squeezed your tits, playing with your nipples through the fabric of your top. Ethan couldn’t take his eyes off the sight; he wanted to rip the last piece of clothing off your body and leave hickeys on your tits.

“Does this feel good for you, pretty? Am I doing good for you? You’re doing so good for me, soaking my fingers so much.” Ethan began to vomit up praises, not leaving any time for you to speak. Your moans fueled his obsession with you, and he could barely hold himself together. He moaned with you, rutting his hips against your bed.

“Fuck I love this. I needed this. I need your pussy so bad, it’s killing me. Are you close? What else do you want from me?” You let go of your tits to touch his face, lifting it up to stare into his brown eyes.

“I wanna see you E. I wanna take your clothes off. Please let me,” you whined. He took his fingers out slowly, making you ache inside. You sat up, kissing him with your hands on his chest. He gripped your waist, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You jolted and broke the kiss to rub your bloodied lip, surprised by the action. He didn’t even apologize to you for it; he took the opportunity to take his black graphic shirt off. You deeply exhaled at the sight of his abs, surprised at the muscles. Does he work out? Since when? Where have these been? You dragged your hands down his body, touching his chest and stomach. The faint happy trail made you lick your lips, ready to explore the wonders of your boyfriend’s body. You looked up at him innocently as you palmed him through his pants, watching the redness in his face grow more apparent.

“You feel so big E. You’ll be gentle with me, right? Give me a good first time?” You experimented with the dirty talking, not wanting to be completely shy and flustered around him. Ethan closed his eyes, enjoying the way your hand rubbed his shaft.

“I’ll do anything you ask. You say jump, I’ll ask how high. I promise.”

“Really? Are you that devoted to me?” you teased. Ethan let out a shaky breath as your hands fumbled with his jeans. You have no idea. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down, seeing his black boxers peek through. You pull his pants down his thighs, letting him do the rest. He yanked the blue jeans off and chucked them with the other clothes, starting to feel chilly. Now I see why you kept your top on. He walked close to you and pulled his boxers down in front of your face, watching your eyes become enamored with the sight of his cock. It sprang free from his boxers, strained and hard. It was painful, begging for release. But he knew he’d get it. The two of you pull the covers down before getting situated with positions. He climbed onto the bed, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“You still wanna keep this on? Or you want me to take it off?”

“Take it off me. I’m ready, Ethan.” Yet again, he tore the fabric off and threw it behind him with excitement. He hovered over you with covers draping the two of you, staring at your tits. You pull him into another kiss, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your body. That’s going inside me? Holy fuck. I’ve got this. I’ve totally got this. He looked down at your pussy, cock in hand, trying to prepare himself for the overstimulation that would cum. He knew he wouldn’t last long. He was so close to cumming, he could probably cum a second time.

He looked into your eyes, as if for permission. You nodded, holding onto his arms anxiously. He looked back at his cock, rubbing his tip up and down your pussy with his bottom lip in between his teeth. He teased your hole, trying to get a feel for it. You whined, mumbling his name.

“Fuck I know. I know, pretty girl.” He braced himself, pushing his cock inside you slowly. You cried out, gripping his back in pain. The stretch was unlike anything you ever felt, making your eyes start to water. Despite Ethan going slow, the pain was barely bearable. You dug your nails into his skin, trying to take deep breaths and ignore the burn. Ethan finally bottomed out, pressing on your stomach to add more stimulation on himself.

“H-holy shit,” he stuttered. He kissed the tears on your face, holding you in a tight embrace. “Tell me when I can move, sweet girl.” You panted heavily, your body feeling hot against his and the sheets. Despite the pain and the tears, he was so supportive. What did I do to deserve a boy like you? You looked at the way his cock disappeared inside you, still wincing from the pain. You knew you couldn’t stay still like this forever; the pain would eventually pass. You just had to work through it together.

“Okay. I’m all yours,” you smiled softly as you braced yourself. Ethan rested his forehead against yours, finally moving his hips against your body. The sound of his cock going in and out of your wet pussy filled his ears as he watched your expressions change. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your mouth was slightly agape. The bed squeaked underneath you, despite the slow pace. You hated that about your bed. Even when you touched yourself, rocking against your fingers, the bed squeaked and creaked. If he fucks me harder, the bed will be so loud! My neighbors are gonna hate me.

“Say that again,” he murmured.

“Hm?”

“Say you’re all mine. Tell me again. I wanna hear it.” His thrusts were deep, still keeping the same painfully slow pace. His arms rested beside both sides of your head, gripping the pillow you were laying on. He shut his eyes, getting lost in the feeling of your walls throbbing around his cock. “Please say it again.”

“I’m yours, Ethan. I’m all yours,” you professed. You gasped at the snap of his hips hitting you. “Oh shit.”

“Fuck you feel so good, squeezing me like that. How do you feel? You feel good?” He picked up his pace, the creaking of the bed becoming on beat with every moan you let out. You couldn’t speak anymore, too focused on the pain that was finally subsiding. His cock felt so good inside, brushing the spot you could never reach. You felt thankful Anika went to spend time with Mindy, knowing you would never survive the embarrassment of getting caught having Ethan in your bed like this. Ethan wouldn’t either; he’d turn into a tomato and avoid Anika at all costs if that happened.

“Feel so good you can’t even talk to me? Is that it, pretty girl? My sweet, dumb thing?” The nicknames always stuck to you, making your stomach flutter. But now you were on the verge of cumming, squeezing his cock so tight. He buried his face into your neck, biting down on your skin as he felt himself get close. He was surprised he lasted this long. He genuinely thought he’d only get through two thrusts before spraying your insides with cum. But he needed to pull out. He didn’t want to deal with pregnancy scares, not right now. While the image of filling your stomach with his seed drove him wild, you two were young and inexperienced. Well, not totally inexperienced. Not anymore.

As you powered through your orgasm, you cried into his ear as he thrusted into you, not stopping his deep strokes. Your nails dug into his skin so far you left scratch marks, red and long. If Ethan worked out with Chad tomorrow, he’d definitely get hounded with questions. But Ethan was liking the idea of being marked by you. It was a sense of ownership, that he was yours and you were his.

And he had no plans of letting you go. He got this far; there was no stopping him, not even as he pulled out of your pussy and sloppily stroked himself. He thrusted into his hand a couple times before cumming on your chest, watching as some of it hit your neck. You looked completely fucked out, exhausted. He was too, craving to collapse on top of you and sleep through the night. But he wouldn’t leave you in a mess. He’d never do that to his little plaything.

Taglist: @ssnapsaurus @nowitsmissing @ch9mpi0n @c0untryclub @stabmemaybe @applelovesposts @x2yuno @the-sylver-dragon @pleasingpetal @cassytkr

#scream vi #ethan landry #scream 6 smut #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #corruption kink #young and naive #possessive #manipulation #fem reader

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thefallennightmare · 7 months

Text

Let Me Be Yours-Noah Sebastian.

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: abusive/cheating ex, swearing, angst, fluff, smut.

Summary: Reader was in an abusive relationship, and she ended up pushing away the one guy who never did her wrong. Noah refused to let her feel as if she wasn't worthy of love; especially when he had so much to give her.

Authors Note: This was requested by @themodern-daywednesday! I really hope you like it. Since there are talks of abusive exes, please read with caution. I used my own experience with my own abusive ex-boyfriend as a way to express myself. Oh, the reader's nickname is Angel in this as well but no correlation to Miracle!

Also, this is during long hair Noah era because he will always be my favorite.

The music vibrated through the house as I leaned against the living room wall, staring down into the red solo cup in my hand. At one point there was cold beer in it but now, it was more like room temp and untouched. When Jolly poured me the beer over an hour ago, it sounded good, though now I'd much rather toss it into the sink and crawl upstairs to my room; well, the guest room.

I pushed my way through the crowd of people that filled the house for this little party and threw the cup into the garbage. Hugging my hoodie closer to my chest, I went to maneuver my way past a couple that was making out against the fridge but halted when I noticed the long brown hair pulled back into a low bun. It could have been anyone, but I knew that hair, I also knew the snake tattoo that coiled around the guy's neck.

"No," I muttered while backing up into the kitchen island, accidentally knocking over the array of alcohol.

The sound of glasses falling gained the attention of those close by and when he finally pulled away from attacking the girl's lips, my tired eyes met with his cold blue ones and I shuddered.

"Y/N?"

"Jared, wh-wha-what are you doing here?" The words stumbled over my tongue.

Who the hell invited my ex to the party?

Jared shrugged. "I heard through the grapevine that this was happening so I figured I'd stop by."

Even with the ice-cold fear filling my veins and harsh memories of us creeping back into my mind, I stood tall against him. I refused to let him know how seeing him again was affecting me.

With my arms over my chest, I raised a brow. "You know this is Jolly's and Noah's house, right?"

At the mention of the latter, Jared's jaw ticked as he stalked away from the girl he was making out with moments ago and over towards me.

"That would explain why you're here," his voice was filled with hate.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm staying with them since I let you have the apartment, even though you were the unfaithful one."

My ex-boyfriend, scratch that; asshole, dickhead, piece of shit ex-boyfriend stood there in front of me with that stupid, smug smile. I hated that smile. And him.

I wasted a year of my life with this guy and the entire relationship; he made me feel unworthy and was only good for one thing; sex. I never gave it to him but that never stopped him from trying. And when I continued to deny him, Jared found other girls to beg for a quick fuck.

He wasn't only a cheating prick, but he also was an abusive piece of shit; more mentally and emotionally than physically. The way he manipulated me into thinking that I needed him in order to survive or sometimes even pulled the typical 'if you leave, I'll kill myself' bullshit. Jared made me believe I wasn't pretty enough and forced me to wear baggy shirts or sweaters and pants. I could never dress up because he would claim I was dressing up for someone else. I never did my hair or makeup for these reasons as well. I began pushing all of my friends away because it made me believe that all I needed was Jared.

The mental and emotional abuse was the worst, but that didn't mean he never raised a hand to me. One time, in front of my group of friends, Jared thought it would be hilarious to choke me out to see how long I could last. Another time, I was talking to him about how I was depressed and afraid of doing something to myself.

His response?

Jared said I was too much of a pussy to do anything and to prove that, he took a mechanical pencil and dug it into my wrist leaving half an inch of a scar.

Maybe that's why Noah hates him so much.

At the thought of my best friend, I quickly scanned the packed house wondering if he noticed Jared was here.

"Looking for lover boy? Think he'll save you again?"

I snapped my eyes over to Jared and almost spat in his face. "Fuck you, Jared! You need to leave."

"What are you going to do, Y/N?" he stepped closer to me with a raised brow. "Noah isn't here to protect you from me. Did you scare him off yet? It's only a matter of time until he realizes what a pain in the ass you are. I mean, if you never put out for me, why would you for him? You're a virgin, Y/N. Girls are always throwing themselves at him and why would he waste his time with someone as inexperienced as you?"

"Screw you!" I stepped up in his face. "Noah is nothing like you; he would never do the things to me you did. He actually cares."

Jared raised a hand to brush over his jaw but out of instinct, I reeled back and prepared for the hit to come, though it never did. All I heard over the music was his dark laughter.

"You're pathetic. You couldn't even dress up for a party?" Jared motioned to my sweater and leggings. "What the fuck did I ever see in you?"

With his hand linked with the girl from earlier, who was too drunk to realize what was going on, Jared threw his shoulder into me as he walked past. I stumbled over my feet but could save myself from falling. Tears burned in the corners of my eyes and I decided I was over this party. The bed upstairs sounded way better than being anywhere Jared might be.

"No," I told myself, worrying Jared might have been right. "Noah would never do that to you. He's the one that offered you a place to stay."

When I found Jared cheating on me yet again, I couldn't take the pain anymore so I packed a few bags and showed up on Noah's doorstep: seeing him for the first time in three months.

"I don't have anywhere else to go," I cried, tears slipping from my eyes.

Noah sighed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to pull me inside, letting the door close behind us.

That was two days ago and after telling me I could stay in the guest room for as long as I needed, I took that literally and held up in the guest room for the last two days. Noah tried texting me when I was with Jared but I never responded. Another thing Jared didn't like, me talking to my best friends. The fact that Noah and Jolly were still willing to let me stay with them showed how big their hearts were.

Speaking of hearts, mine throbbed in the cage in my chest as I thought about how Noah looked when I showed up the other day. His long hair was pulled back messily with a claw clip and his gold round glasses perched on his nose looking absolutely breathtaking. I always was attracted to Noah but never acted on it because he never felt the same way. We'd been good friends for so long, we didn't want to risk loosing that because of feelings.

Noah never said that, but I always assumed that because he gave no indication that he felt something more than just friends with me.

"Hey, you alright?"

A soft voice pulled me from my thoughts and I noticed Nick Ruflio leaning against the wall beside me. His eyes were filled with concern as he looked me over.

Noah wasn't the only one that knew about Jared and our toxic relationship; the rest of the guys did as well. We all were incredibly close for years while they knew certain things Jared had done to me, Noah was the only one that knows how bad my mind was fucked up.

The first night here, I stayed up with Noah and told him everything. To say he was furious was an understatement. I had to talk him down multiple times for finding Jared and kicking his ass.

Hearing my name called, I shook out the thoughts and gave my best fake smile to Nick.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him.

"Really? Because Folio said he saw Jared out back," Nick said.

I cursed while running my sweaty palms against my thighs. "Did Noah see him?"

"No," Nick shook his head. "But it's only a matter of time. Folio is trying to get Jared to leave."

"Fuck you! Piece of shit!"

Oh no, I know that voice. I dream of that ethereal voice.

Nick and I both pushed past the now-growing group of people that gathered outside in the backyard. The party was long forgotten, and guilt ate away at me knowing it was my fault. This party was a going away party for Bad Omens because they leave for tour tomorrow. At first, I was nervous that I would have to leave and find somewhere else to stay but both Jolly and Noah reassured me I could stay here while they were gone.

There was a loud sound of skin hitting skin and what I saw made me halt in my footsteps. Folio had a hand on Noah's chest to keep him back from Jared, who was sporting a bloody lip.

Well, it was safe to say Noah knew Jared was here.

"That's all you got, lover boy? I've hit Y/N harder than that," Jared spit.

Noah pushed passed Folio to grab Jared by the collar of his shirt and lay a fist into his jaw, this time knocking him to the ground. I was still in my frozen state watching this all play out while both Nicks were holding Noah back and Jolly stepped in front of me when Jared glared up at me.

He spit into the grass before pointing at me. "You're wasting your time with her, Noah. She doesn't put out; bitch is still a virgin. Why do you think I cheated on her?"

Noah stiffened before his gaze finally landed on me, realizing for the first time I was watching.

Okay, maybe I didn't tell Noah everything about my relationship with Jared. I hid the fact that I was a virgin from him, something that seemed to shock him because Noah's lips were parted slightly. Now I knew any chance with him was nonexistent because of his one rule: He doesn't do virgins.

"It has nothing to do with them not knowing what to do. It's from personal experience. They might get too attached and I'm not looking for a relationship like that." His words echoed in my brain.

I cast my gaze down at my feet with the attention of everyone on me and tears burned at the corners of my eyes before they fell. Seeing me cry made Noah clench his fists and was fast on Jared, pinning him down to lay fist after fist into his face. The sound made me cringe as I tried to look away but couldn't. The muscles in Noah's back tensed as he laid a bone breaking punch to Jareds nose.

Finding this to be so attractive and hot is wrong but the way my pussy clenched, I knew I enjoyed being wrong.

People were whispering under their breath wondering if Noah was going to stop and fearing the worst, I stepped out from behind Jolly and over to Noah. There was blood from Jared splattered over the front of his sweater and the sight of Jared's mangled nose and mouth made me almost puke but I kept my eyes straight on Noah.

His name fell from my lips as I laid my hand on his shoulder. When he felt my gentle touch, Noah's body shook as he let out a breath.

"Come on," I urged him off of Jared. "He's not worth it."

Noah's eyes bounced from me to Jared before he rose off of him, giving him one last kick to his gut for the final blow.

"If you come near her again; if you even think of her again, I'll break every single one of your fingers," Noah threatened.

"Alright, I think the party is over," Jolly's voice carried as he dismissed the party goers.

As they slowly dissipated from the yard and house, I laid a hand on Noah's chest and felt the erratic pace of his heart. I then grabbed his hand and hissed when I saw the cuts and blood across his knuckles.

"I'm fine," Noah said while trying to pull his hand away.

But I gripped it tighter. "Let's get you cleaned up."

With a sigh, Noah agreed and as we walked back into the house, Jared's voice called after me.

"You'll come crawling back to me, bitch. You're nothing without me!"

Noah turned to lunge back at him but I was faster as I stalked back to Jared's crumpled body on the grass. Without a second thought, I pulled my foot back before sending it right into his face. I was only wearing socks so the hit of bone on bone made me gasp out in pain as I hobbled on my good foot.

"I'd say go to hell, but it looks like you're already there," I spat, motioning to the constant wounds that covered his face.

I tried to turn on my heels but the action made me fall to my knees and clutch my foot. But before I could hit the ground, Noah scooped me up into his arms and carried me inside.

"Noah," I protested.

He ignored me and walked through the now empty house and up the stairs. He passed the guest room and headed straight to his, kicking the door shut behind us.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he set me on the bed.

Instantly, I felt out of place. I've been to his house many times but never in his bedroom. I've seen what it looked like while he streamed but now actually seeing it with my own eyes, made me feel as if I was intruding in his personal space.

With be on the edge of the bed, Noah pulled over his computer chair and sat down while grabbing my injured foot. He carefully removed the sock and looked at the bruising skin.

"It's not that bad," I said.

He peered up at me through his lashes. "You could have broken your foot, angel."

My heart hammered in my chest at the nickname. Noah's called me that a few times throughout the years and every single time, it made my skin tingle. There was a soft knock at his door and we both saw Jolly peer his head in while holding an ice pack.

"Thought you might need this," he tossed it to Noah.

I smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you."

As the door closed again, I winced in pain when Noah pressed the ice pack to the top of my foot. Neither of us said anything for the next while, letting the silence fill the air, until the guilt for ruining the party ate away at me.

"I'm sorry about the party," I apologized quietly.

Noah let the ice pack fall to the floor as he leaned back in his chair with raised brows.

"Why the fuck are you apologizing?"

I shrugged while playing with my fingers in my lap. "I should have made him leave the first time I saw him tonight."

Now he tensed as his elbows rested on his knees. "When did you see him? What did he say to you?"

"Nothing, it's not important, Noah. Can we forget this even happened?" I begged.

The last thing I wanted was to repeat those hurtful things Jared spewed to me, especially to Noah. He was already angry, who's to say he won't find Jared and beat his ass. Again.

"Angel," Noah warned.

"Fine," I groaned. "I ran into him in the kitchen earlier tonight and he said the same shit he usually did. How I was pathetic and wondered what he ever saw in me. He also said that I'll push you away eventually because I'm-."

My voice broke off, not wanting to repeat those words. Although Noah already knew, I knew he would want me to say it.

"Because you what?" He pressed with a slight edge to his voice.

I knew it wasn't because of me but that did nothing to ease the slight fear in my gut. I had to keep reminding myself that Noah wasn't Jared. He wouldn't hurt me. But with everything Jared put me through, it fucked up my brain so that I couldn't tell the difference between someone that actually cared to one that only wanted to cause me pain.

I was so fucked up that I felt the need to lie to Noah about things because I was afraid of how he would react.

Jared was so controlling that I pushed all of my friends away, both the Nicks, Jolly, and Noah. And when I came crawling back after not listening to their warnings of Jared, they still took me in without a second thought.

I always knew, deep down, that I had strong feelings for Noah. I never said it out loud but as much as I tried to deny it, I knew that what I was feeling was that scary four letter word. But knowing that he didn't feel the same pushed me into the first man's arms that showed me a hint of attention.

"Angel," Noah's soft grip on my chin brought me out of my thoughts. "What else did he say to you?"

My bottom lip trembled as I let out a broken breath. Just this small gesture of kindness made my heart sore into my throat.

"He said that you won't waste your time with me because I'm a virgin. You have girls throwing themselves at you all the time, why would you waste your time with someone like me?"

My eyes squeezed shut for a moment to keep the tears away but when I opened them, Noah's gaze was burning deep into me, almost down to the core of my existence. I became nervous and tried to move his grasp from my face but it only made him grip my chin tighter.

"I'm going to kick his ass; again," He pushed himself away from me before rising to his feet.

"Noah," I reached for him but he moved too fast. "Just leave him alone, he's been through enough."

"Stop defending him!" he spun on his heels to point a finger at me.

I flinched at the sudden raise of his voice and Noah's face fell, guilt filling his eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry angel," He ran a hand over his face. "I just hate hearing you defend him."

"I'm not," I stated with a shaky voice. "He's not worth it anymore, alright? I want to try to forget everything he put me through."

Noah eventually nodded and came back over to me except now he sat on the bed next to me. There was something radiating off of him and his fingers twitched in his lap. There'd been many times we were in closed proximity but something about right this moment made my palms sweat and belly burn with a rousing desire. I could smell his cologne as it engulfed my senses while his body heat wrapped around me like a safety net, letting me know Noah will do anything and everything to keep me safe.

"I should go-."

"Are you really a virgin?"

We both spoke at the same time but hearing his question made my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"I'm humiliated enough with it being brought up in front of everyone tonight, please don't get me shit for it," I grumbled while crossing my arms over my chest.

Noah shook his head, his knee brushing against mine. A shot of electricity shot through me and I yearned to feel more of his touch.

"I'm not," there was something in his tone of voice that made me read the soft features of his face.

"It doesn't matter. It's not like a guy would find me attractive enough to want to sleep with me. I'm nothing special," I shrugged.

A muscle in Noah's jaw ticked. "Stop talking like that."

"It's true, Noah. No one wants a girl as damaged as me, especially a virgin," I stood slowly to my feet, not wanting too much pressure my bad foot. "I'm going to go."

As I tentatively walked past Noah, his hand gripped my wrist and pulled me into his lap, both of my knees landing on either side of him. His large hands gripped my hips to keep me in place as I fought against him, all while my heart was thundering in my chest. We were so close now, that I could feel his warm breath fan over my lips.

"That's bullshit," he spoke.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You said it yourself, Noah. You don't do virgins. What makes any other guy different?"

One hand left my hip to cup my cheek. "You're different."

"Right," I scoffed. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

Noah's eyes searched mine deeply, a slight frown pulling at his lips.

"He really fucked you up, huh?"

With both of my hands on his chest, I pushed him away. "I'm not worth it."

A squeal erupted from my throat when I felt myself being tossed onto the bed, Noah towering over me. Strands of his long hair cascaded around my face and without thinking, I brushed it back while running my nails along his scalp. Noah made a noise in the back of his throat when his eyes fluttered shut.

"You're worth everything, angel," he buried his face into the crook of my neck. "I'd get on my knees for you."

My breath caught in my throat at his words. Surely he didn't mean that. We never talked like this with each other.

"I have a lot of regrets," Noah now brushed his nose over mine. "One of them being not telling you how I felt earlier."

I gulped as my heart pounded loudly in my ears. No, he didn't mean what I thought he did. There was no way he felt the same.

"Noah," I breathed. "What are you saying?"

My fingers were still tangled in his hair as our eyes locked with each other.

"Let me prove to you that you're worth it, angel." His eyes sparkled as he almost begged me.

"Won't this-what about-," my words stammered over my tongue.

I was beyond nervous for what he was asking and I was afraid of what the outcome would be afterwards.

Noah's lips brushed along my jawline. "Let me be yours. I'll worship you and make you feel wanted and loved. Would you let me do that for you?"

Oh. Shit.

Every single part of me buzzed with so many emotions; shock, excitement, anticipation for what this meant, and the one that outweighed all of them was want.

I drank in the entire sight of Noah as he leaned over me. His hips hovered over mine while his lips continued to lightly brush across the skin of my jaw all the way down my neck. The small amount of facial hair that covered his face tickled with every brush and his long hair that fell out from the clip he used to keep it away from his face felt like silk against my fingers. Noah took off his sweater when we first came up to his room and now the colors of his various tattoos on his arms stood out in stark contrast to his white shirt.

"Yes," I finally said.

Quickly, his lips were on mine in a fiery, starving kiss and I moaned into it, never in my life experienced this amount of desire from someone. Noah wanted me, fucked up brain and all. His tongue molded with mine and our teeth smacked together, trying to devour every inch of my mouth.

When his hips pressed hard against mine, I broke apart the kiss to lean my head deeper into the mattress below. It felt so good when the outline of his cock brushed against my heated core, and I wanted needed more.

"Noah, please," I begged while raising my hips up into him.

"What do you want, angel?"

His mouth bit and sucked at the spot of skin beneath my ear, and I shuddered underneath him.

"Anything. I just need to feel something good," I admitted.

Noah leaned back onto his knees and motioned to my sweater. "Take it off."

I hesitated because I was only wearing a bra underneath and the thought of him seeing it made me suddenly nervous. He noticed because he leaned down to leave a tender kiss on my lips.

"Trust me. I've been wanting to see you like this for a long time. Take it off, angel."

With a nod, I sat up off of the bed and shed my sweater and to the ground. Noah's eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of my black lace bra and he licked his lips as he reached behind me to unclip it. It fell away from me onto the bed and immediately, his hands cupped my left breast, fingers pinching my nipples.

"Shit," I gasped, the feeling shooting straight down to my core.

"So perfect," Noah murmured while his free hand slid down my stomach to brush across the waistband of my leggings.

Without even asking, I raised my hips off the bed to help his slide them off of me. Now I lay in front of him in only a black thong and could faintly make out the outline of his cock in his jeans. Noah's eyes darted from my body up to my face, eyes holding mine steady.

"How far do you want to go?"

My mouth ran dry realizing what he meant. If we went through with this, Noah would be my first. And knowing how he felt about virgins gave me pause. He reassured me I was different but what would that mean for our friendship?

"Would this make things weird between us?" I asked biting my lip.

Noah groaned at the sight and left a kiss right where my lip was caught between my teeth.

"I thought I told you I'm yours, angel. I've wanted you for so long and now that I have you, I'm not letting you go."

For the hundredth time that night, my heart warmed at his words so I gave him his answer in a heated kiss and took off my panties myself.

"I'm yours, Noah." I repeated his words back to him.

Seeing me naked in front of him lit a fire under his ass because he scrambled off the bed and took off his shirt then pants and briefs in one go. I stared hungrily at the way his thick cock sprung free and slapped against the inside of his thigh.

Fuck, he looked absolutely gorgeous with his tattoos.

"I'm going to work you up before, alright? Spread your legs for me."

I did what he said, and when he saw the wetness between my legs, Noah groaned. "Just a taste."

Although, I never had sex I did fool around with Jared; oral and hand stuff. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to Noah and the way his tongue licked up my dripping arousal before rubbing small circles over my clit.

"Shit," I panted. "So good."

A finger slid over my entrance, up and down, before slipping inside of me. Noah worked his fingers in a slow rhythm while his tongue worked fast. Then another finger slipped inside and now, his fingers and tongue matched in pace as he brought me closer to the brink. My orgasm was cresting higher to its crescendo and my moans of pleasure echoed through the small room as my nails dug deep into the blanket. I arched off the bed while my knees shook, the wave of pleasure about to yank me in to drown me.

"Cum for me, angel. I want to taste every part of you," Noah breathed against my clit as his fingers speared inside of me.

His name rolled off of my lips in an earth shattering whine, the power behind this orgasm like nothing I've ever experienced.

"Good girl," he mused as he crawled up closer to my face.

I felt heat rush from my heart straight to my pussy at hearing his praise and nearly lost it when his lips met mine, forcing his tongue in my mouth so I could taste myself on him. My nails dug into the skin of his back to pull him closer to me. He had his cock held steady at my slick entrance and my mouth salivated seeing the pre-cum at the slit.

"Are you on anything or should I grab a condom?"

I nodded. "I'm on the pill. Even though I've never had sex, I still wanted to be safe."

"Okay, let me know if you want me to stop," Noah said.

When I nodded again, Noah slowly sunk the head past my lips and I tensed immediately which made him pull back when he was less than halfway in.

"Don't tense, just breathe with me."

Noah let out a deep breath along with me as he pressed deeper inside of me and I screwed my eyes shut when he met some resistance.

"Eyes on me, angel," he demanded with his hand wrapped around my throat.

Oh shit.

Noah's eyes were black now, filled with lust as he finally pushed past that resistance and sunk completely into me.

"Fuck, you're so tight." Noah leaned his forehead against mine.

His pace was slow, almost as if he was holding back, and while it hurt at first, now the pain subsided and all I felt was pure euphoric bliss when he slid his cock all the way out before pressing deep back inside.

"Oh, god," I raised my hips up to meet every one of his thrusts. "Faster, please."

Noah made a low noise in his chest as he lifted my leg over his hip so he could get a better angle and it made my eyes flutter shut when the head of his cock hit that perfect spot. His face bent low to my left nipple and ran his tongue over it in small circles before he did the same thing to the other one. My neck arched back, exposing the skin to him to beg for his tongue there. Noah obliged by biting down hard over the skin of my pulse point and I cried out his name.

"Say it again," he panted, his thrusts now going faster and deeper.

His name fell from my lips like a prayer with his of his thrusts and when the pad of his thumb stroked my clit, I spasmed against him. The familiar heat bubbled low in my belly and every cell inside ignited with that burning sensation that I desperately craved.

"I'm going to cum," I moaned.

"You look so beautiful taking my cock like this," Noah praised. "Such a good fucking girl. All mine; so fucking beautiful."

His sweet, affectionate words were exactly what I needed to grasp my orgasm. I came hard on his cock, my arousal coating every inch of him, and to keep my screams quiet I pressed kisses over the tattoos on his chest. Noah's fingers gripped me in a bruising grasp around my hips as his pace stilled for half a moment before he attacked my lips in a hungry kiss.

"Angel," Noah pressed deep inside me one last time, his cum filling my insides.

As we both came down from our shared highs, he pulled out of me and rolled onto his back while pulling me into his chest. I laid my head against it as he covered us with the blanket and left a tender kiss on my forehead.

"Are you alright?" Noah asked.

"Yeah, a bit sore but I'm okay," I laid my chin on his chest so I can look into his eyes. "Thank you, Noah."

He pursed his lips. "For what?"

"Everything. From earlier at the party to what we did. You made me feel wanted for the first time in a long time. I know you had that rule of 'no virgins'-."

"Hey," he cut me off. "I told you, you were different. I have every intention of making this a serious thing, angel."

We shared another kiss and when I pulled away, Noah cupped my cheek so I had no choice but to look in his eyes.

"If you let me, I'd spend the next handful of years making you realize your worth."

For once, the smile that spread across my face was genuine and bright, feeling the love course through me. "There's no way I'm letting you go, Noah."

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