#not to mention i fight with my abuser at least once a week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doll3tt33 · 1 month

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Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ♡

(colin zabel x under arrest!reader)

Summary: once again, you find yourself being arrested by Colin, adding to his piling stress from an unsolved case. However, you discover that a tiny favor for the detective might bring him some much needed cheer…

Wordcount: 5.7k

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), car sex, coaxing, reader is under the influence of alcohol, brief mention of a bar fight, aggressive and rude reader, rly vague implied age gap, technically abuse of authority (it’s obvious, but I’m still putting it out there. I advise not to read if any of this makes you uncomfortable)

A/N: sorry for the major inactivity guys, I’ve been busy! And this fic ended up being longer than I expected, but I hope it’s good enough quality. My first ever smut, so hope u guys enjoy <3 (also sorry if any typos btw T^T)

You stood motionless, reeling from the adrenaline coursing through your veins as the alcohol's effects faded. The rush of emotion receded to an eerie calm. As your vision adjusted in the dim light, the scene came into focus - onlookers surrounded you and a woman now being helped from the floor. Through the buzz still clouding your mind, one detail emerged with painful clarity: her bruised and bloodied face, a stark reminder of the harm just caused in a moment of impaired impulse and from your god awful temper.

Now the woman who you beaten black and blue, almost to the point of passing out, wasn't the focal point for dispelling the haze of your impulsive rage. Nah, this lady had it coming when she slut shamed you for being oh-so-bold enough to wear a tank top tonight. No, it was the bright flashing hues of blue and red seeping through the windows that acted as your wakeup call.

Just like that, a realization hit with sobering clarity - “Shit. Cops.” Without pause, you shoved through the crowd, desperation driving every move. Bursting through the door, the frigid night air raised goosebumps across your skin. Damnit, maybe the tank top wasn’t the best choice after all. Intoxicated or not, you were in no shape for an arrest. Stumbling at first, you found your footing and picked up speed, putting distance between yourself and the scene of the incident you started. You were gonna make it through! You were gonna outrun those pigs and they would never get their grubby hands onto you!

…That was until, a loathsome voice sounded from behind.

“Hey- hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

Before you knew it, you felt hands locked around your arms, yanking you to a halt. The telltale jingle of metal broke through your panic and with a sharp click, cold steel encircled your wrists. A glance back confirmed your dread. You weren’t being handcuffed by just any stinking cop - it was that good for nothing detective Colin Zabel arresting you once more, and for what, the third time this week? That’s one hell of a streak.

You sighed inwardly, the fight draining from your limbs, knowing any attempt in resisting would be in vain. “Goddammit Zabel, can’t you give it a rest?…” you muttered under your breath, as he hauled you back to the police car.

"I know, I know - save your excuses," Colin cut you off wearily, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Jus’… don’t start, ‘Kay? Do me a solid and quietly get in the car.” He opened the car door to the backseat, gesturing for you to step inside. Despite his perpetual mask of affability, you detected an edge of irritation - his good humor and patience clearly worn down by your repeated encounters.

“Whatever man…” you sighed as the door clamped shut with finality. Through the window you watched Colin slip into the driver's seat, releasing a long exhale as if to shed the stress of your latest encounter. At least you provided some diversion from his endless paperwork, though you doubted he'd admit as much.

True to his by-the-book nature, he slinked the seatbelt over himself, securing it with an assured click. Out of habit, he craned his neck over his shoulder, asking out of the goodwill of his heart. “Oh! Almost forgot. Do ya need a lil’ hand with fastening your seatbelt too?“ he offered warmly, “Don’t want any extra accidents happening tonight, am I right or am I right?” A hearty chuckle followed, dying abruptly once he took in your expression - eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line.

“Fuck off Zabel.” you growled in response, fixing your stare out the window. He felt tension coil in his gut but forced it down with a hard gulp. As a veteran officer, he had faced far worse than you, yet something about your unpredictable defiance unsettled him. For a moment, under your glare, an angry retort rose to his lips but he bit it back, sensing it would only stoke the flames. Best to let the dust settle, he decided. Starting the car, he pointedly kept his eyes forward and drove in loaded silence.

“Alriiiighty then, no seatbelt it is. I’m just gonna… ah- y’know….” He cleared his throat, voice petering off into a nonsensical mumble as he shifted gears.

An uncomfortable hush fell over the car, only the revving of the engine permeating the stillness. Colin tapped the wheel, wishing for a distraction from the tension. His mind raced through possible conversation starters but came up blank. A stolen glance in the mirror found your stony profile unchanged. With a sigh, he focused back to the road, flicking on the radio more for the static noise than any musical preference.

Colin hummed softly to fill the silence, earning another kick from the backseat - your fourth such outburst. He was the pinnacle of what it meant to be a pushover, but he still stood his ground when needed to… in his own unique way. “H-Hey, Cut it out kid! And be nice,” he let out a weary sigh, peeking up at your vexed form through the rearview mirror “You know, I’m not a fan of this attitude you’ve got going on. Haven’t been for the past week.”

You sank lower into the seat, glowering. “First of all, old man, lay off the ‘kid’ crap. I’m not a child.” You rolled your eyes at his feeble attempt at reprimand.

Colin bit back another retort, clenching his jaw. Pride demanded he have the last word, if only to reclaim a shred of dignity in his own vehicle. “Hm no, I think I’ll call you a kid. ‘Cause you know why? You’re acting like one, like right now.” he replied evenly, bubbling frustration leaking through his amicable veneer, yet he still maintained some semblance of civility between him and your not-so-good of a temper.

As you drew your breath to speak, Colin beat you to it. “Look- all I’m sayin’ is, this isn’t good for you. This is the third time this week I’m haulin’ you in here. The third time!” Weariness tinged his laughter as he splayed his fingers out in front of him, only to reclaim the steering wheel in a swift motion. “Not only is this not doing you any favors kid—-“

“I said don’t call me kid.” You interjected sharply, cutting him off this time.

Colin continued on autopilot, fatigue chipping away at his usual cheer. “It's also not doing me any favors either. I've got a case to crack, but Mare - my partner - thought it’d be best if I dealt with you while she took charge of the investigation for the night…”

His shoulders slumped, eyes downcast as a cloud of disappointment settled in. As a county detective, he longed to prove himself with this investigation, not play referee to petty disputes. But saying no had never come easy, especially when others mistook his calm demeanor as weakness.

Silently, your eyes veered away from the passing scenery outside the car window, finally taking notice of his careworn features in the mirror. Attuned to the new lines of fatigue etched upon his face, you perhaps began to understand that this was wearing him too.

“Must suck being everyone’s errand boy.” You observed, tone lacking its usual bite.

Colin offered a tired nod. “Comes with the job, I guess…” his words trailed off, accompanied by a somber tone as his gaze returned to the road. “But y’know what they say- it is what it is.” he added softly, punctuating the statement with a self deprecating laugh.

Surprisingly, a twinge of sympathy tugged at your heart - a rare reaction to the shithead county detective. For all his attempts at camaraderie, which admittedly grated, you had to respect his resilience in the face of your unrelenting hostility. Hell, that time you clocked him during arrest, most would've thrown the book - but not Colin. His patience and optimism seemed a superpower, weathering your worst without breaking stride.

A strange blend of sympathy and guilt surged through you, as the realization struck you hard like a freight train - you had subjected the poor detective to a relentless barrage of undeserved hardship, oblivious to the weight of his personal burdens. Your chest tightened, and a foreign sensation stirred deep within as the reflection in the rearview mirror held your gaze captive.

The need for redemption gnawed at your conscience, but how could you possibly make things right? You've been a real pain in the ass to him for a good while now. Within the depths of your alcohol-induced haze, a daring idea began to take shape - could you perhaps make amends through a little bit of... shared pleasure?

It was pure insanity. Drunken impulses (and drunken you) are the epitome of idiocy. Vivid images flooded your thoughts, projecting the sheer horror that would contort his face if you dared to make a move now. It was likely that he hadn't experienced the touch of a woman in quite some time. And yet, that was precisely the point. The poor guy may have been deprived of any intimate encounters since his fiancée abruptly left him, and the growing urge within compelled you to do something about it.

Undeterred, an unwavering determination fueled your decision to make a bold move and test the waters. Shattering the silence, you adopted an uncharacteristically sweet tone to conceal your true intentions. "Hey Colin, think I could sit up front? It's kinda cramped back here."

Colin glanced over, clearly skeptical of your politeness given past rides. "Not sure that's protocol..." he began, ever the rule-follower.

Your lips formed a slight pout, an innocent plea. "Aw c’mon, I'm starting to feel queasy. Just to the station, what's the harm?"

“Uhh….”

Colin's head snapped in your direction, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized your expression. Despite his suspicion, a flicker of genuine concern crossed his face. The thought of you unleashing your 'gastric distress' all over his car seemed to be a genuine fear he really wanted to avoid. He did not need an extra pukefest tonight.

Reluctantly, he caved in to your request, his voice colored with a mix of resignation and caution. "Ah, jeez... Look, you're not supposed to sit in the front, but fine, I'll make an exception this time." He maneuvered the car to the side of the road, stepping out to open the door for you. As you settled into the passenger seat, he retook his place beside you.

"Jus' promise me you won't end up throwing up in the car, 'cause I'm not looking forward to cleaning up that mess." With a playful smirk, he wagged his finger at you, but there was an underlying seriousness to his words.

"Chillaaaax, Colin. Don’t even worry, you won't see me hurling tonight. I've got it all under control," you declared, gracing him with a reassuring smile. The unexpected warmth of your expression caught him off guard, contrasting sharply with your usual snarky demeanor and the piercing death stares he had grown accustomed to.

However, Colin’s initial reservations melted away, reciprocating the gesture as a warm smile played across his face. He resumed his position behind the wheel, ready to continue the drive. But just as he was about to press the gas pedal, you captured the moment and took action. It was officially reckless business o’ clock. You sank down from the car seat, your knees grazing along the surface as you shifted toward the detective.

Colin's eyes widened comically, his mouth agape, utterly taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. "K-Kid, what on earth are you—"

Cutting him off, your slurred words emerged with a hushed urgency. "Shush. And I told you not to call me kid. Just wait, let me..."

Your words trailed off as you grappled with the cramped space of the car. Hindered by the handcuffs that still restricted your movement, you struggled to find a way to support yourself without the use of your arms. Nonetheless, you persevered, inching your way beneath the steering wheel and between Colin's legs.

You released a sigh of relief as you settled comfortably onto your knees. “Phew! Crawling around is no walk in the park without some arms. Anyways...”

“Hi.” An impish grin spread across your face, your eyes flickering upwards, locking with his apprehensive gaze.

“Wow hi, haha!“ his smile, already awkward, stiffened further as he involuntarily sunk deeper into the car seat, attempting to create as much distance as possible between the two of you. “So um… is everything okay? I mean, what’s happening right now? What are you… doin’ down there, specifically?” His words tumbled out, laden with confusion and a touch of concern.

“What do you think I’m doing?” you giggled, thoroughly amused by the sight of the detective squirming uneasily in his seat. A delicate flush of pink tinted his cheeks, a detail that didn't escape your notice. Your voice dropped into a low purr as you continued, relishing in the tension that swirled between you. “Weeeell... I had this little thought, you see. I wanted to make amends. You know, for being such a pain to you over the past few weeks."

A coy little shrug followed your words, as if you were merely toying with the idea. “And I figured, what better way than to help my favorite detective relieve summa his stress off his shoulders.”

You awaited his response with a wide grin, but all that greeted you was a dumbfounded Colin, his face now aflame with a deep shade of crimson blush, eyes wide and unblinking. The sound of his breathing, short and heavy, filled the tense silence, leaving you to wonder if perhaps you had made him uncomfortable. Although a certain part of his body seemed to betray a different sentiment, stiffened and undeniable.

As both of your gazes inadvertently dropped, your eyes locked onto a conspicuous tent forming beneath Colin's slacks. A mix of surprise and amusement flickered across your face, mirrored by the silent murmuring of the word 'crap' that escaped his lips. “Hah… that’s uh- real strange. Don’t know why that’s happening,” He gulped. “Good ol’ keys in the pocket, huh? They’re a pain, especially when they decide to stick out in weird angles. It's like, whoa, things can get a little… funny, you know? Awkward, even.” He added, his voice revealing a hint of panic as he desperately attempted to maintain his composure, all while his raging boner was in plain sight.

“Oh for god’s sake,” you groaned, impatience tracing a light furrow on your brow as the restraint of the handcuffs exacerbated your frustration. "You're not seriously trying to play dumb with me, are you?" You said, annoyance and amusement bleeding through your words. The power dynamics had shifted, leaving you unable to take the lead, and instead relying on the nervous wreck of a detective before you.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath to steady fraying nerves. Determined to take a gentler approach, you decided to navigate this delicate situation with care.

"Come on, Col..." you cooed, leaning forward as far as you could, resting your head gently on his thigh. Your voice took on a soft, persuasive tone. "Let me do this for you." With a subtle flutter of your lashes, you batted your eyes, mimicking the innocent charm of a puppy seeking its owner's attention. Colin flinched, his knees threatening to buckle under the weight of your sudden touch. Yet, he remained motionless, his eyes fixed upon you in mounting suspense.

A smile curled upon your lips as you sensed his lack of immediate resistance, emboldening you to press forward with your gentle coercion. "Just once," you whispered, your voice filled with earnestness. "Let me do this once, and I promise you'll feel so much better afterward."

“..Jesus, I don’t know ‘bout this… I….” Colin mumbled, trailing off with a heavy uncertainty.

He sat frozen in place, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. His bottom lip bore the marks of his nervous chewing, while his brows knitted together in a hesitant frown as he weighed his options.

He knew he shouldn't, he reaaaally should not. It was morally wrong, a breach of professionalism, and could jeopardize his career if discovered. His eyes darted frantically outside the car's windows, scanning the desolate darkness that enveloped the streets in secrecy. But technically, no one would find out, would they?

And god, it had been a long while since he had been with a woman, especially since the bitter end of his engagement. And there you were right now, on your knees, your eagerness to please him palpable. Just the sight of you pouting sent his stomach into a frenzy of uncontrollable flutters, a reaction unexpected even from someone with a volatile temper like yours.

Bewitched by your feminine wiles, he barely registered how his hand had crept onto the top of your head, his thumb caressing your scalp with a tender touch. The throbbing heat in his pants intensified, overpowering any remaining restraint. With cautious swiftness, he glanced around, scanning the surroundings for any prying eyes, before his gaze settled back on your face - your smile, a comforting anchor in the sea of his conflicting emotions.

He sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "F-Fine... Jus’ promise me you won't breathe a word of this to anyone, alright?" His hands returned to himself, fingers trembling as he loosened the clasp of his belt. The once ironclad resolve that had held him together began to crumble like fragile dust, succumbing to the pull of the moment.

“You have my word Col.” you reassured, your voice a soft murmur teeming with exhilaration.

Colin proceeded to undo his pants, the sound of the zipper echoing through the confined space. As he shoved them down, the dim glow of a distant streetlight seeped through the car window, casting a faint illumination on the scene. You couldn’t see all that clearly in the dark, but you did catch a glimpse of the outline of his cock protruding beneath his boxers, the fabric adorned with a telltale wet spot. Needless to say, he was far more excited than he was letting on.

Your mouth watered in anticipation, your core aching with need. Your senses heightened, thighs instinctively clenching as you awaited his next move. But just as Colin's thumb looped under his waistband, he hesitated, uncertainty settling over him like an icy veil. Restraints confined your hands, the itch of frustration crawling beneath your skin. In this moment, the immobility of your arms felt like a punishment far worse than being thrown into a holding cell later that night.

Unable to physically intervene, you relied on the power of your voice to guide the hesitant detective. "It's alright," you coaxed, tone laced with soothing encouragement. "Shake those nerves off, just this once. No one will ever find out..."

Colin's response came in the form of a hesitant nod - quick, uncertain, but nevertheless a nod. With painstaking slowness, he mustered the courage to give his boxers a small tug, gradually lowering them at an agonizingly slow pace. The measured movements seemed almost teasing, as if he were intentionally prolonging the moment. However, the truth was he basically personified a bundle of nerves, as though he was a schoolboy experiencing the thrill of his first make out session, unsure and skittish in his actions.

"How about we ditch these stupid handcuffs and let me take charge?" you suggested, your tone cutting through the air with an assertiveness that bordered on demand. Colin's head snapped up, surprise briefly shadowing his features as he registered the sudden shift in your demeanor and the scowl that tugged your lips. He couldn't entirely fault you for your impatience - he had been taking his sweet time with dropping his boxers. However, a part of him harbored a lack of trust, as dubious as it may sound. The restraints provided a sense of comfort and security, keeping you in check.

Colin's throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Ehh... sorry, but that's a no-can-do," he deflected your proposal with his trademark easy smile. "You understand, right? It's nothing personal. Jus’ think it's... better this way."

“Ugh…” you grunted, eyes rolling in annoyance. You relinquished your desires, holding back any further comments or demands.

After what felt like an eternity, Colin steeled his nerves enough to continue, no longer willing to delay the inevitable. In a swift motion, he grasped the waistband, sliding it down until his cock sprang free, bobbing slightly in the air. Your gaze, once fixated on the crop of brown pubic hair adorning the base, now traced the veiny pathways that ran along his thick length, leading to the swollen tip—flushed red and leaking. For a seemingly meek police detective, he sure had a nice looking dick.

You smiled as you leaned in, tilting your head closer. Your eyes, brimming with excitement, darted back and forth between his face and his erection, gauging his reaction as you tested the boundaries. Despite his initial apprehension, there was a glimmer of delight in his gaze. Encouraged by his response, you inched closer, your lips ghosting the underside of his shaft, your warm breath teasing his sensitive skin, coaxing it to twitch in response.

Colin squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the moment. “Crap, look- in case it wasn’t obvious enough, it’s been a while for me,” he blurted out shakily, already roused by the sight of your pretty lips caressing the heat emanating from his dick, sending a wave of warmth sweeping over him. His legs parted further, an unspoken invitation for you to draw nearer. “So sorry if I…. Y’know.. too early.” He stammered with urgency.

“I mean, you already look like you’re ready to burst before I even touched you,” you shrugged with a light chuckle. “But I kinda like that.” You flashed him a playful smirk.

He remained speechless, his face flustered and turned away, a deep red painting his features in the stillness of the moment.

Regardless, you took the plunge, gently pressing your lips against the sensitive underside of his cock. A soft, almost inaudible moan escaped his lips, a clear sign for you to continue. From top to bottom, you peppered his length with tender, soothing kisses. His hand immediately reached for your hair, his fingers finding solace in the roots to distract himself from cumming too fast, careful not to exert too much force and risk hurting you.

"And sorry about the whole hair-holding thing. I, uh... need something to hold onto when I'm really focused," he confessed, his bashful laughter intertwining with his words. His face still burning a deep scarlet hue, the admission both vulnerable and endearing. "Habit," he added, his lips twitching with shy sincerity.

“You can grip my hair as hard as you want. I don’t mind a little rough treatment.” you shot a wink, a giggle escaping your lips. Lowering your head, you tilted it to the side, your tongue tracing a stripe against his sensitive balls. Eagerly, you pressed your face forward, your lips latching onto one of them, suckling on it with a gentle yet insistent rhythm, each release elicited a small pop.

“Mmff!— fuck..” Colin‘s jaw went slack, a deep groan rolling off his tongue the moment your mouth made contact, his resistance melting away under the spell of your touch. His dark brown eyes dilated, glazing over your form below him. “Yeah, jus’ like that… jus’ like that…” he managed to utter out, his heaving breaths punctuated by muttered words of approval. His fingers entwined with your hair, massaging the crown of your head in a visceral gesture of pleasure.

“Ooh, you like that don’t you?” you remarked, a playful lilt in your voice as you pulled back slightly, savoring the sight of the detective's face contorting with undeniable bliss. “I wanna hear it baby, tell me how much you needed this.” You crooned, face colored with a teasing grin.

“Okay-okay fine, I won’t lie…” Colin huffed, admittance causing eyes to flutter away. Amused, you chuckled, flattening your tongue against his length, gliding it along a long and deliberate path, coaxing the rest of his words to spill out. A delicious shiver of electricity ran down his spine, sending a cascade of goosebumps rippling down his skin from his erection being teased. “Agh!- y-yes I needed this, I really… really needed this.” he babbled out, his breath hitching with the weight of his confession.

Satisfied, you continued. Your kisses swept from the base and drifted all the way up to the tip of his cock, tongue salty with precum as it expertly caressed the ridges. Colin's body quivered, responding with an urgent jerk of his hips, a wordless plea for you to take his cock into the warm and wet comfort of your mouth. You could feel the urgency in his veins buzz with an electric fervor, beckoning you to go further. For the sake of soothing him, you pressed your lips right onto the swollen head, treating him to small kitten licks on his sensitive slit.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous...” Colin moaned, teetering on the edge of a whimper. His hips bucked forward once more, ramming his tip deeper into your mouth. Each squirm of his body against the supple leather of the car seat produced a small squeak, almost serving as a subtle backdrop to the moment. “God, you scare the living crap outta me... but f-fuck, you’re sososo p-pretty!” He choked, another whimper caught in his throat.

“Mhm… that’s what I do best detective…” you mumbled with a full mouth, the warmth of his fluids clinging to your breath.

The evidence of your arousal was just as indisputable as his, your panties most definitely soaked from the act of using your mouth on the detective alone, cunt weeping from the lewd noises leaving him with each stroke. Your lips glided further down along him, accommodating his warm slickness as you relaxed your jaw. “Ohmygod- holy shit you feel so good...” he groaned. He slumped back against the backrest, head lolling over his shoulder as he fought to stifle a moan. “Ngh- so good f-for me…”

Despite the discomfort that knotted your knees and the soreness that gnawed at your back from kneeling on the unforgiving car floor longer than you should’ve (all while handcuffed too!), that fiery bundle of elation simmering in your belly powered you through it. After all, Colin was all you could focus on, eclipsing everything else. His raw groans, the incoherent praises that spilled from his mouth, and the way your name danced off his tongue like silk - it was all you needed in the moment, utterly invading every fiber of your being.

However, it wasn't just you who was losing yourself in the moment. Colin's mind short-circuited completely, overwhelmed by the mounting pleasure that had him seeing dazzling stars. Your heavenly skills had transformed his body into a molten state of arousal, practically dissolving into a puddle of liquid. In this state, his thoughts scrambled like a glitching, outdated computer, and your lack-of-hands situation compelled him to take the reins in a mindless frenzy.

"Hope ya’ don't mind if I jus’..." he mumbled hoarsely, his words stumbling out spontaneously. His hands cradled the sides of your head, anchoring you in place, hovering inches above his seat to steady his rhythm. His cock delved deeper into the confines of your throat as his hips undulated to the flow of his ragged panting. His heart galloped like a wild stallion, synchronizing with the rhythm you created, while he sunk himself further into the depths of your wet heat.

“Mmh!- ‘m almost there! Need a lil’ l-longer.” Colin sputtered out, throat straining to keep as quiet as possible. He could see the glistening of tears stinging your eyes, whimpers muffled out around him. He truly never intended to subject your poor mouth to such rough treatment, his tip bullying the back of your throat with each jerky thrust until it was sore, pushing so deep that your nose buried itself in the tufts of hair on his pelvis. Despite the guilt welling up in him, he couldn’t help himself at this point. His body was now like a machine, moving on its own accord to milk every ounce of pleasure he could get.

Even then, you didn’t even break eye contact, not even once. Not when this police detective who nursed a hidden disdain for your tempestuous presence behind faux smiles, was now coming undone right before you - His once neatly styled chestnut brown hair now clung to his sweat-drenched forehead, strands falling over his flushed, pale features. His lips, now parted and glistening, revealed a glimpse of vulnerability, while his doe eyes sparkled with a feverish glimmer. Everything about him in this moment was enthralling, leaving you no choice but to be mesmerized.

The rippling tremors jolting through Colin's frame reminded him that he was nearing his climax, fire pooling low in his abdomen ready to erupt. Between heavy panting, he plucked up the courage to voice his request, his fretful eyes scanning the confined space of the car. “Hey sooo uh- you um… y-you don’t mind if I don’t pull out… right?” he asked, vulnerability threaded through his tone. He definitely wasn’t eager to see his load spray onto anything inside his police car.

Your nose scrunched up in clear disapproval, a glare shooting daggers at him, clearly not a fan of swallowing. He clicked his tongue in disheartenment, head tilted to the side “C’mon, do me a favor will ya?… Not really lookin’ forward to making a mess in the car.” He pleaded breathlessly. To his relief, no signs of protest emerged, though a sullen mask adorned your face.

As he noticed your lack of resistance, he seized the opportunity to follow through with his words. “‘m sorry!- So sorry. I-I’ll make it up to you later. Really!” Colin bleated, tone brewing with guilt and that familiar undercurrent of pleasure.

Squeezing his eyes back shut, he rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to quell the tightly coiled spring in his belly, yearning for release. His balls tightened, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turned sloppy. Consumed by a blinding, searing white that engulfed his senses, his mind completely blanked. With one final forceful pump, he held your head close, ropes of cum painting your mouth white. Trapped in his surprisingly strong grip, you gulped down the bitter torrent, suppressing the almighty urge to gag as your tongue battled with the assault.

Once you swallowed every last drop of his cum, Colin released his firm grip, withdrawing his now softened cock from your mouth. His hands fell limply to his sides, the air in the cramped car heavy with sweltering breaths, as though the two of you had just completed a grueling marathon on a hot summer’s day.

Gradually regaining his composure, Colin peeled his eyes open, his gaze fixed upon your chest rising and falling, your lips swollen and glistening with wetness. “Jeez uhh, are you okay?- I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Post orgasm clarity rushed over him like a gust of fresh air, his lips downturned with genuine concern. He hastily reached into his coat pocket, digging out and opening a tissue packet, gingerly dabbing away the saliva and residue from your chin and mouth.

You blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the unexpected act of care from the detective. Well, that was a first - no one had ever wiped your mouth for you after a blowjob, but then again, your hands were bound, rendering you immobile. “Yeah I’m fine, you didn’t really have to do that, but I appreciate the gesture.” you replied in a hoarse voice, head shying away from him.

Colin's face brightened with a smile, a wave of relief washing over him. You were right - the weight of his once overwhelming stress seemed to dissipate. In fact, he felt like a brand new man! It had been a long time since he had been intimate with a woman, so this encounter meant more to him than you could ever know.

In an unexpected twist, he scooped you up from the car floor, strong arms cradling your waist as he pulled you into a tight embrace, cocooning you on his lap. In that moment, the softie within him had taken over, aching to shower you with affection and gratitude for the pleasure you had shared.

Your shoulders tensed in his firm grasp, your wide eyes betraying a mix of surprise and alarm. You couldn't help but wonder if he always got this sentimental after engaging in intimacy, and you couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Woooow okay, so we're hugging now huh? Someone's feeling affectionate tonight," you noted with a touch of sarcasm. Yet, despite your initial resistance, you allowed him to hold you, gradually surrendering to the warmth of his arms. Deep down, buried beneath layers and layers of pride, a part of you secretly enjoyed this, even if you'd rather be drawn and quartered than admit it.

“Yeah, hope you don’t mind. It’s jus’ that… you did such a good job.” Colin chuckled, his hand gently caressing the small of your back. “And hey, would ya’ look at that! I really do feel so much better now. So, genuinely, thank you.” His words resonated softly against the crook of your neck as he rested his chin there, his arms remaining securely wrapped around you.

You allowed the weight of the moment to sink in, basking in the warmth and tenderness enfolding you. Then, an idea suddenly sprang to mind, and you couldn't resist voicing it. “Say… since I did one hell of a job, does that maybe mean I’m off the hook now?” You pulled back, a sly brow raised as you awaited his response.

Colin let out an exaggerated huff, his smile filled with amusement as he ruffled your hair into a delightful mess. “Nope,” he replied teasingly. “You’re still getting your butt thrown into the station for the night.“

Your expectant smile swiftly dropped into a deep frown, prompting a hearty pat on the back from the detective as he erupted into a fit of laughter. “Sorry kid,” He said between chuckles. “Now chop-chop, time for you to get in the back!”

-------☆-------

I’m aware I made Colin more pathetic than he actually is and I apologize- Idk I just could resist 😭😭 Hope the aftercare made up for it tho??

🤍 only tagging one person cuz idk who else wants to be tagged:

@lacucarachapisser

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elliesmistress · 22 days

Text

EPISODE 1: PILOT

WARNINGS: 18+, heavy drug usage (cocaine, weed, alcohol, etc), oral sex (R, E, D, A, ETC), tribbing, overdoses (reader), mentions of overdoses, angst, EVERYONE WILL BE IN COLLEGE AS EUPHORIA IS SET IN HIGHSCHOOL!, mentions of self harm, Jules will be transgender (same in the show, except sex won't be with her), shoplifting, mentions of death, NATE and his family will most likely be left out of this completely and set with new characters that are less toxic, dealer!ellie (sometimes), drug deals, swearing, less abusive relationships but still toxic, mentions of rehab, rehab (detox), death, degradation, toxic sex, rough sex, strap usage, strap sucking, mentioning of 9/11, lmk if I missed anything please!

a/n: this will be VERY similar to Euphoria, you will be RUE (Due to it being "your" story I will be writing it with 'I' as Rue talks). I just need to figure out where abby, dina, jesse, etc will fit into the story. I do know abby will be CAT very likely all the characters will be the exact same (besides from Nate and his parents) I've struggled with a few of the problems in Euphoria and I've written my own fic about MY addictions but I figured I'd do Euphoria too hehe, I will be removing the SA parts of the story because that's just something I don't want to have on my page. Please let me know if you want to be on the taglist whilst I actually have inspo to write :) 3.8K WORDS, spell checked and shit idk man it's like 4 hours past my bed time and 1am

I WILL BE MAKING A EUPHRIA PLAYLIST FOR EACH CHAPTER!

Taglist: @snowy-vee , @vqxen @pedropascalsbbg

PRESENT DAY

"I was once happy, content, sloshing around in my own private primordial pool." I am standing in front of hundreds of people who are here listening to my story—to say the very least, I was nervous. I always have been a fucking addict, and now I'm telling my story of how I recovered from this fucking disease that ruined my fucking life.

"Then one day, for reasons beyond my control, I was repeatedly crushed." I blink my eyes, looking at the floor, struggling to find the right words: "over and over by the cruel cervix of my mother, Grace."

"I put up a good fight, but I lost, for the first time, and definitely not my last... I was born three days after 9/11."

Memories flood back to when I could hear the TV going on the day I was born.

"I can hear you; I can hear you; the rest of the world hears you; and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon." The unknown man says on the TV that hearing the words "USA, USA!" being chanted over and over again made me cry as a baby. Those chants will forever haunt me.

"My mom and dad spent two days in the hospital, holding me under the soft glow of the television, watching the towers fall over and over again, until the feelings of grief gave way to numbness." I shift uncomfortably in the silence of the audience, glancing at my good friends Jesse and Ellie, who indicate for me to keep talking. A soft chuckle comes from my lips as I continue on with the story.

"And then," I take a deep breath, "without warning, we moved to a friendly neighborhood in the suburbs, to where a middle-class child, me to be exact, was looking up at the ceiling, counting those fucking numbers like I could fucking see them. Over and over again. 'thirteen... fourteen... fifteen... sixteen."

"My mother looked up at that ceiling like I was fucking crazy; the words she said echo through my dumb brain still: 'What are you looking at, y/n?'" "I kept counting, trying my hardest to ignore her. She said to me, 'y/n, look at me."

I chuckle. "I bet you all know where this is going. I kept counting, but from the start," and my smile dropped immediately.

"I remember breaking down and crying when my mother tried to snap me out of it. I wanted... I had nothing but to cry, so that's what I did. I sat in a doctor's office a few weeks later with my mother crying next to me as the doctor said I could be suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder, attention deficit disorder, general anxiety disorder, and possible bipolar disorder." I put my hand up close to the mic to cup it. "But I was a little too young to tell," I said in a joking tone, cracking a laugh from the crowd. "Y'all get me; y'all fucking get me."

"With this being said, I was put on medication to treat half of the disorders I had, and to be honest, I don't remember much between the ages of 8 and 12. Just that the world moves fast and my brain moves so fucking slowly."

"I would sit my fucking ass in class every day and try my hardest to listen to what that fucking teacher was trying to teach, but sometimes I would focus on my breathing a little too hard. I'd die. That teacher held a bag to my mouth to calm my breathing, though it never really helped. I remember trying to outrun my anxiety every day, looking in the mirror and trying to push my stomach in so I wouldn't look "fat."

"I would constantly get messages from people telling me they wanted to kill me, drug me, make fun of me, and bully me. My mother knew something was up and constantly asked me what was wrong, but I always gave the same response: 'I'm just fucking exhausted."

AGE 19 (college years)

"You said the doctor was in our network. How could he suddenly be out of network?" I hear my mother say as I walk out of my room into the kitchen, "I can't afford it" Grace says.

"did you see the beauty queen who got acid thrown in her face?" My sister says as I begin to lean on the dinning room table. "Mm, what? No" I say, turning my attention to her and out of my trance. "it's pretty fucked up." She says holding up her phone. "Hey, Mom, you got any tampons?" I turned my head to face her as she looked at the documents in her hand, I knew full well I wasn't going to be getting tampons but she didn't need to know that shit.

"in my bathroom, under the sink." She replies back, I swiftly make my way to the bathroom.

I enter her bathroom and cough as I open her medicine cabinet to take a few of her Alprazolam (XANAX) pills.

I would do this countless times, and surprisingly at some point, you make a choice about who you are and what you want in life.

I pretend to flush the toilet and I look at the picture in my mother's bathroom- it had my dad and my Mom on it on their wedding day.

I look at myself in the mirror washing my hands and putting on sunglasses to hide my pupils that are almost as big as my actual eye itself- I get out of the bathroom to go back into the kitchen

"alright, Jayda, let's roll." I say to my sister as she looks at me and frowns, probably these fucking sunglasses.

"y/n, did you eat breakfast?" Grace says, moving the phone away from her mouth. "I had coffee!" I yell out, opening the front door and making my way out.

Jayda and I begin to walk down the sidewalk, she turns her attention onto me and asks what's with the sunglasses.

"what sunglasses?" I say and chuckle, Jayda laughs with me.

We both make our way to the bus and wait for it to arrive, once it arrives we get on the bus and make our way to the back of the bus.

I guess... I showed up one day, without a map or a compass... Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice. And I know it all may seem sad, but guess what? I didn't build this system nor did I fuck it up.

I was sitting at a party, with a galaxy book to my knees and a line of cocaine, holding the perfectly rolled 5 dollar bill that had been rolled by some rando.

I snort the line of cocaine and immediately felt the pain in my nose, moving my hand up to my nose and applying pressure to where it is painful, making my breathing hitch, then speeding up my breathing in order to get rid of the pain.

My pupils immediately shot big, looking around—everything felt good, my mind at ease and nothing to worry about. I sit up with the most unreal experience, an out-of-body feeling as I struggle to get up.

"y/n, you good?" My friend Ellie attempts to hold my shoulders to steady me as I wobble slightly, I giggle and smile at her, escaping her grasp. "I'm good!"

I walk past people- everything is in slow motion, my body feels slow, my mind feels slow, and suddenly I no longer feel as high- I find another unknown substance and waste no time snorting it, sitting down on the couch.

I sat back up from the couch I was sitting at, getting offered yet another line of cocaine. I snort that cocaine as well, that leaves it hard for me to breathe, every time I take a breathe out. It feels like I'm breathing out all the oxygen I have.

And then it happens. That moment when your breath starts to slow, and every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have. And everything stops: your heart, your lungs, then finally your brain. Then everything you feel, and wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks. And then suddenly... You give it air again, give it life again, and that's what leaves you needing more.

I smile at the figure I see besides me, her face is blurred but she's speaking to me, I feel scared. "I want to call an ambulance" I say in my mind, "but I don't wanna ruin everyone's time"

"dude get her fucking legs" I hear muffled voices, slowly waking up. It was Ellie and Jesse dragging my body to Ellie's bed, after I had passed out on the couch at that random frat party-

I stand in a church with my hands behind my back, looking up at the ceiling waiting to graduate from rehab. Slowly making my way up the steps, I look at the lady and give her a smile and a nod before exiting the building.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Echoing in my mind over and over again as I make my way to Ellie's car.

"Hey!" I see Ellie running up to me. I drop my bags as she pulls me into a tight hug. I smiled at her shoulder. She squeals, letting go of me and looking at my face, pulling a hair strand behind my ear.

"I've missed you," she admits. "I've missed you too."

"What about we go back to mine and we can watch a movie?" Ellie suggests that, honestly, I wanted to get home and get out to my fucking dealer. I never had intentions of staying clean, but she didn't need to know.

"Uh yeah, sure," I say, quickly breaking myself out of my own stance. She helps me with my bag, and she puts it in Joel's old, beat-up truck, and I get into the front seat. "Everyone's missed you, dude, Abby, Dina, Jesse, and Maddie. Fucking everyone, dude."

I chuckle.

I cuddle up with Ellie in her dad's garage as we watch Jurassic Park. I'm on top of her, listening to her breathing—she's relaxed; she's always around me.

I find myself nuzzling into her neck. She moves her head to the side, so you have better access to her neck. I softly kiss her neck; she's always so soft.

Her eyes flutter shut as I start to suck on her neck, her hands finding their way to my ass, slowly rocking me back and forth to grind on her. Ellie let out a choked moan as she felt my clothed cunt rub against her clit.

"Y/N, fuck," she moans. I smile against her neck and make my way to Ellie's lips.

I kiss her slowly, but Ellie starts to become desperate, whining into my mouth as I refuse to give her what she wants. I move my hand underneath her hoodie to find her tits; of course she's not wearing a fucking bra or shirt under her jumper. It's Ellie.

"Wait," I say, pulling down her pants and boxers in one go. I look at her swollen cunt, slowly moving my head downward to lick up her slit, making my way to her clit.

She bucks her hips up into my tongue, I moan into her cunt, and she tangles her hand in my hair, slightly tugging upwards, making me groan loudly.

"S-sh-it," her voice is choked. "Fuck, just like that," she moans, rolling her eyes back, her toes curling in her socks. "Hmm? Feel good, baby?" I say to her, slowly lifting my head up, abandoning her swollen cunt.

"Fucking don't," she threatened, and I chuckled. I push my middle finger into her soaking pussy as I attach back to her clitoral area; her breathing gets faster, and I feel her tighten around my fingers.

"F-FUCK!" She moans loudly, and I feel her pussy conract on my finger as she cums, her fingers tugging at my hair. "A bit loud, don't you think?" I tease after letting her ride out her orgasm, and I move up to kiss her sweaty forehead. "Shut up"

"got another in you?" I smirk, taking off my pants, t-shirt, and bra. Ellie takes off her jumper, leaving us both naked. I allow Ellie to get up and let her go on top of me.

Ellie aligns her clit up with mine and moans quickly, filling the room each time Ellie moves her hips. I start to dig your nails into Ellie's back, making her groan in pain.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ellie chants from the overstimulation. "C'mon, baby, I know—fuck, I know you can do it." I praise her as I feel a knot in my stomach, threatening to come undone.

Ellie moves her shoulder closer to my face. I take this as an opportunity to bite down on her shoulder, which makes her wince in pain.

"I'm going to fucking cum!" Ellie moans out. Hearing Ellie say this triggers my own orgasm, and we both cum together.

I sit up in bed watching Ellie sleep, and I take out my phone to look at the time.

4AM

"Fuck it," I think before opening Ellie's window slowly, climbing out her window, and making my way to my dealer's house.

"There's a new girl in town I think you're going to be friends with." I stand in front of my dealer, who's sitting down in his chair. "who?" I question.

"shit... I don't know, man. She came in yesterday lookin' all Sailor Moon and sh*t. I'm thinking to myself, "You look like somebody you would get along with."

"Ah, real nice, dude. Really nice, where's ash?"

"I thought you went to rehab?"

"Doesn't that mean I stayed sober?" I smiled, walking towards Ash's room with a smile. I opened his door to see him eating cereal. He puts down his bowl and looks at me.

"Shit, I thought your ass was dead."

"I thought you had Asperger's till I realized you're just a prick." I insult him. "This is a fickle industry. Y'all come and go." He chuckles.

I ask for what I want, and he hands it to me. "Sure, you don't want to try anything new?"

"Like, what?" I asked, pulling the hair out of my face.

"2-C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT." "I have no idea what the fuck you just said, Ash."

"Doesn't matter, dude, this sh*t. Is fucking lit?" He holds up a bag with two unknown pills. "It's a fast-acting psychedelic. I have some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual and shit, but still a sense of distortion... I don't know what's been blowing up in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck on it."

"okay, yeah." I say, putting all the baggies in my pocket, "That'll be 120."

"Fez said he'd spot me."

"Fezco, don't spot anybody."

"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him." I say, pointing the middle finger at him, opening his door, and leaving.

"Do you think my areolas look weird?" Dina says to Abby, "What the fuck, no?"

"Just the edges."

"Dina, they're fine," Abby says, taking a puff of the weed Cassie gives her.

"Fine, like, they're weird, kind of weird, or fine, like, nobody but me would ever notice what I would notice?"

"Fine, like, shut the fuck up, Dina," Cassie says, sitting up, grabbing her vape, and taking a puff. Dina scoffs, pulling up her t-shirt to cover her boobs.

"Hey ladies!" Jesse walks in. "Hey baby," Dina squeals, running to Jesse and hugging him. Abby cringes.

"Straight people, ew," she thinks to herself, looking at her phone. "Yo, you got out of rehab."

"Didn't she die?" Dina asks, and Abby shrugs.

"Yeah, I swear she died. I don't know, is Ellie coming to the party?" Jesse questions, to which Dina nods.

I get off my bike at home, slightly drugged up from the drugs I took earlier.

I walk into the house, softly shutting the door.

"Where were you?" My mother says, sitting at the table, Why the fuck is she up at 6 a.m.? You thought to yourself: "I went to eat," I lie. "What the fuck do you mean, you went to eat?"

"what?"

"what?" She mocks, "Don't walk away from me." She sits up from her seat, walking towards me as I walk towards my room. "You know what, y/n? I don't trust you."

"I don't know what you want me to say." It's true; I didn't know why she wanted me to say it. "I want you to tell me where you were," she says, walking quickly as I walk to my room.

"I just said I went to fucking eat!" I yell at her, "Don't you talk to me like that!" Grace says as I slam the door on her face. "Don't be slamming my doors around here."

"It was a fucking accident!" I yell out, holding my body in front of the door. "I don't care. You're not leaving this house until you take a drug test."

"I just peed!" I yell out, "Slam another door."

"Shit," I say, making my way to my bed, not knowing what to do. Every option I could do is unsafe as fuck.

Niacin, maybe. I don't know fuck, I think to myself, putting out my phone to look at the side effects.

Google

Side effects: skin flushing, extreme dizziness, vomiting, rapid heartbeat, and sometimes death.

Fuck, I can't.

"No drug site recommends doing this" I whisper to myself.

The other option is to get a non drug-addicted friend to do it for me.

About 20 minutes later, I show up at Dina's door, knocking.

"y/n!" Dina says, opening the door, smiling and hugging me, "I thought you died."

I laugh. "Can you do me a favor?" Uhm, I'm serious, bro."

"Sure, what is it, y/n?"

"Can you, uh, piss in this cup for me?" I whisper to her . "You're fucking with me, right?" She responds back, and I laugh and shrug.

Dina agrees to do it, and I enter her house to see Jesse and Abby.

"Sup Jesse," I say, fist bumping Jesse, then Abby.

"We thought you fucking died, bro. How was rehab?" Jesse says it with a genuine tone. "Yeah, it was good." I turn to Abby and ask, "How's football going?"

"Yeah, good. Thanks, uh, are you coming to that party tonight?" Abby asks, "Uhm, yeah, maybe."

"y/n" Dina grabs your attention, you move away from Jesse and Abby, and she swiftly hands you the bottle. "Here's that eyeliner."

"thank you"

I quietly climb through my window, grabbing my baggie of crushed cocaine, tipping some out onto my shelf, grabbing my 5 dollar note, rolling it up, and snorting a line.

"Argh," I groan, feeling it hit my nose. The same pain I've always experienced with snorting was still there—just muffled out. By this point, my nose was completely fucked, and I could hear the sound of the drugs eating away at my nose.

"Mom! I have to pee."

"I wish we could do this in a way that wasn't a complete invasion of my privacy." I say, cup in hand, struggling not to smile at her due to the drugs I had taken earlier on.

"Well, you lost your right to privacy after your overdose," your mom says, staring at you in the eyes.

"That was an accident." I smartly talk back, "Don't be flippy, y/n."

"Could you, at least?" Your mom turns around and says, "Thank you."

I sit down, and before "peeing" in the cup, I swiftly change it with Dina's urine as she talks. I wasn't listening to whatever the fuck she was saying... I was high as fuck, and I didn't care.

I gave her the urine sample, and she put the drug test in the container, and all of them came out negative. "I'm sorry for slamming the door earlier."

"it's okay. I forgive you. Come here." My mom says, pulling me in for a hug.

I guess... Like I said before, you get to choose who you want to be and how you want to be- the way the drugs cancelled out all my emotions was what I was looking for, no person, no nothing could compare to that feeling. Besides from drugs.

"I'm gonna stay at Dina's tonight" i say to which she agrees.

It's now 7PM, I don't know how the day went by so fast- but it did and it fucking sucked. I get a text from Ellie.

Ellie: Yo, noticed you left this morning you okay?

Me: yeah, I'm good bro. You alg?

Ellie: yep! Wanna come over tonight? Dont have to if you wanna go to the party instead

Me: I'll come over around like 11?

I find myself making my way to the party that Jesse, Dina, and Abby are going to.

Jesse and Dina have fucked off somewhere else, probably making out or fucking, and you find yourself next to Abby.

"How was rehab, y/n?" She says, breaking the tension, although I can barely hear her over the music, "Yeah, it was good!" I yell over the music.

I stand up, looking for the bathroom in an attempt to snort more, but people were already in the bathroom. "Shit," I think to myself, not paying attention to where I'm walking, accidentally bumping into this lady.

"fuck!" I yell. Looking at her, she looks like the girl Faz mentioned. "Hey, sorry." I retrace my steps.

"You're good; I'm, uh, I'm Jules," she says, and I smile, holding out my hand to shake hers. She accepts and shakes my hand.

She's got one of the most beautiful smiles you have ever seen; her smile is so bright it could light up an entire dark room, filled with nothing but sadness.

"I'm y/n" I introduce myself, to which we exchange numbers, and I make my way to Ellie's place, feeling overwhelmed from the party.

I knock on her door for Joel to answer; my pupils are dilated, and obviously I've taken some sort of drug.

"y/n... Hey, Ellie's in her room." I smile stupidly. These fucking drugs, man, I can't stop smiling . I swiftly walk past Joel and see Ellie. I smile at her, and she smiles back. "Dude, are you high?" She scoffs, "I thought... I thought you quit."

"I'm not high, Ellie, mania." I giggle; she obviously doesn't want to assume, so she wants to give me the benefit of the doubt.

"Are you coming back to college this month?" She questions. "Yeah, probably." The truth was, I didn't want to. But I knew I probably had to.

I shall leave it at this due to how many words, etc. and idk if people will like this 😭😭

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blueicequeen19 · 8 months

Text

Charter Ch. 8

Warnings: drama, angst, mentions of Luke’s abuse, oral, creampies, use of cuffs, breeding kink 😈

By the time she got to my house, I was antsy. My anxiety had spiked, there was that pain in my chest that nearly choked me. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. How restless. I’d cleaned and organized things that didn’t need it, picked up Summer’s room, and started dinner. I’d wanted to wait until she got here so we could cook together but I was too anxious to wait. By the time her and Bo made it through the door, my shrimp and grits were nearly done.

“Smells amazing.” Y/N smiled at me. I couldn’t resist pulling her into my arms to kiss her. There was no fighting this. Not anymore.

“Took you long enough.” I murmured against her lips as Bo pawed at me for attention. She laughed, taking a step back to allow me to rub on her dog.

“I had to shower and feed him and walk him. I sometimes think having a dog is about like having a child.” Y/N teases as I straighten back up and Bo finds a spot on the couch.

“At least Bo doesn’t make you paint his nails.” I counter, making her laugh again as we move to the kitchen. I turn off the burner and make our plates. Y/N sits down with two beers and my dick twitches in my sweats as she eyes me hungrily. Her eyes light up as I approach the table but she looks away when I sit the plates down and take my seat.

“Problem?”

“Are you ever not hard?” Y/N rolls her eyes at me with a smirk and I chuckle. Part of me forgot I’d changed into sweatpants. Another part was glad I did if she kept looking at me like that.

“Around you, no.” Y/N fights a smile before we dig into our food. The silence is comforting. Like we’re both just happy to be in the same room as each other. These past three weeks had been hard. Harder than I’d ever imagined they would be. The distance was bearable when she still worked there but when she hung up her key, I felt something inside me break. I couldn’t just wait for her to come around again. Not this time.

“I took your advice. And Shoupes.” I cleared my throat and her bright eyes found mine, her brows raised.

“I filed a protective order against Chelsea. If she gets within five feet of her she’ll go to jail. I’m sure by now she’s been served.” I said, feeling the weight lift off my chest. She smiled at me, pride in her eyes as she nodded her head and kept eating. I still wanted to handle things my way but I’d start with the law.

“How’s Summer? Does she ever ask about her egg donor?” Y/N asked, leaning back in her chair once she finished and crossing her arms.

“Yes and no. I’ve told her as much as I think she can understand at five. She knows Chelsea is not safe and not okay to be around. She knows to get help if she’s approached.” Y/N nods.

“And what are we doing?”

“I figure we can give the dating thing a try.”

“Do you think the Charter will survive if you stop flirting with every female that walks in?” We both laugh.

“I hope so.” She smiles, content with my answers as we finish our beers. I lead her outside so Bo can do his business and I light a joint as we approach the waters edge. I take a few long hits and pass it to her. I feel the calm wash over me and I watch as the tension leaves her body after taking a few hits and handing it back.

“It’s peaceful out here.” Y/N murmurs, wrapping her arms around herself as the chill from the water hits us. I pull her against me, tucking her under my arm after I put the joint out.

“I love it out here.” I press my lips to her forehead and her arms wrap around my waist.

“What will I be to Summer?” She asks, a tremor in her voice like this was a hard question for her.

“Another positive role model in her life.” I respond, running my hand up and down her back.

“I don’t know if I’d call myself a role model. I didn’t have the best upbringing either. At least Summer has you.” She pulls back to look at me and I’m struck with the realization that I don’t know shit about her family except that her and her mother fight a lot.

“My father was an abusive piece of shit and my mom bailed. I think if I can give Summer more than I had then I’ll be happy.”

“My mom is a Kook and my dad is a Pogue. They’d met at a party and conceived me. My mom went down one path and my father went down another. I was the pawn they used to hurt each other. All they did was talk shit about each other and try to buy my love. By the time I was old enough to know better, I realized how awful they both were and now I don’t have much of a relationship with either. My mother doesn’t miss an opportunity to let me know she’s disappointed in me for not doing more with my life.” She releases a shuddering breath and I wrap my arms tighter, kissing her shoulder.

“I think we decide who we want to be when we’re older. I think you made the right choice. You didn’t let their actions define you.” I murmur, pulling back to rest my forehead against hers. She nods, sniffling.

“Neither did you.” She lifts up to kiss me and I groan, instantly deepening the kiss by slipping my tongue into her mouth to taste more. When she pulls back breathless and shivering, I crack a grin.

“That free therapy session will cost you a blowjob.” She swats my hands away with a laugh, turning back towards the house with an added sway to her hips.

“I don’t fuck on the first date, Maybank.” She taunts, shaking her ass at me and squealing with delight when I chase after her. I haul her up my body and press her back to the wall of the enclosed porch, kissing along her neck and throat.

“You do with me.” I growl, making her groan as I grind my cock against her clothed pussy. We make out just like we did behind the bar. Our tongues tasting one another and moaning into each others mouth. When she sucks my tongue into her mouth, I nearly blow my load right then.

“You have too many fucking clothes on.” I lower her to her feet to yank her shorts and panties down her legs then I kneel, throwing her leg over my shoulder before attaching my mouth to her clit.

“Oh fuck.” She moans, both hands in my hair as I stare up at her glorious tits and pierced nipples after she quickly removed her shirt and bra. She’s so wet that even as I slurp up her juices, more is still running down my chin. Her clit throbs against my tongue and I know she’s close already. She’s always fucking ready for me.

“JJ, please.” She cries, urging me to give her more as she grinds against my face. I take her clit between my teeth, making her eyes fly open on a gasp right before shoving two fingers inside her. I resume sucking her clit and her cries pierce my ears as she cums hard.

I don’t wait before jumping to my feet, wrapping my arms around her as she sways to kiss her again. Y/N tears at my own clothes until she frees my cock and pumps me in her hand.

“God, I missed this.” She pants, moving to drop to her knees but I stop her, shoving her over the back of the couch. I was already leaking precum all over her hand. If she got me in that sinful mouth this would be over before we’d even started.

“Nope. I need to be inside that pussy.” I thrust my dick through her slit, coating my cock in her slick arousal before nudging her soaked entrance. She sucks in a breath.

“Remember when I said if you’re good I’ll fuck you bare?” I spread her cheeks, watching my dick tease her slit.

“Yes.” She breathes, arching her ass out for me. I slap it, digging my fingers in to the flesh as I tease us both.

“I’m fucking you bare tonight and every night after this. I want you dripping with me.” The thought makes me absolutely feral, pumping her full until she makes me a daddy again. Making sure every fuckhead in this town knew she was mine.

“JJ.” The sound of her begging makes me shudder as I finally work the thick head inside her. My eyes nearly roll back into my skull as I push inside until I’m balls deep and she’s trembling. Heat washes over my body and sparks race up my spine. This was better than I could’ve ever imagined.

I tighten my hands on her hips before sliding half way out and slamming back in. She yelps, her feet barely reaching the floor as I shove her down further over the couch. I don’t waste anytime before I start fucking her with vigor, hard and fast. Her moans and pleas fill the air, her nails biting in to my arms as she reaches back, her pussy choking the life from me as I pummel into her. I’m on the verge of exploding when I suddenly stop and she growls in frustration.

“Don’t growl at me.” I slap her ass before yanking her upright and throwing her over my shoulder as I take us back inside. I wanted to take her on every surface of my house again but I wanted to take my time tonight. So for now, I’m finishing with her in my bed. I kick the bedroom door shut and faintly hear Bo grumble in protest before I toss her down on the bed.

“You better put that thing back inside me.” She snaps, shoving her hair from her face with defiant eyes looking up at me as I round the bed.

“Or what?” I counter, grabbing a pair of leather cuffs from my nightstand and kneeling back on the bed. She tries to flee but I quickly pin her beneath me and cuff her hands behind her back. She knows I love when she fights with me.

“I should punish you for quitting. For leaving me.” I growl in her ear. She wiggles beneath me and I can’t stop myself from kissing and biting down the side of her neck and down her spine, my tongue tracing her tattoo. I force her legs apart and kneel between them, running my hands up and down her body.

“JJ, please. Stop teasing me.” She begs, shaking her ass at me. I bring both hands down on both cheeks, making her hiss.

“But there’s nothing like sinking into pussy that’s been teased.” I slide my hand between her legs to stroke her clit. She tries to bring her legs together as she whimpers so I spank her again.

“Don’t make me tie your fucking legs open.” I shove her legs beneath her so she’s on her knees and spread wide for me. I move her ass into the air before dropping down onto my back between her legs to feast on her pussy.

“Jesus, JJ!” She tries to lift off my face, whining and whimpering when I don’t let her. I suck on her clit lazily until she’s trembling and cussing then I shove two fingers in deep and suck her swollen nub into my mouth. I wrap my free hand around my cock, stroking myself hard as she screams her release but I don’t stop.

“I can’t— please— JJ.” I thrust my tongue inside as she begs, making her squirm and try to move away. I slide my wet fingers up and probe her tight, puckered hole.

“JJ— wait— I.” I suck her clit into my mouth again and she moans, her legs shaking so hard she doesn’t even notice when I slide a finger inside her ass and slowly pump it. Her body grows taunt and a sob escapes her as reaches her peak again, wetness seeping out of her until she’s begging me to stop. I don’t give her a chance to come down before I move onto my knees and raise her ass in the air.

“Tell me you want me. That you want this.” I demand, pawing her ass with both hands. I loved having her like this. At my mercy. She couldn’t mouth off if she was too fucked to speak.

“I want this, J. You know I do.” She pants, unable to look back at me with her arms bound behind her back. I work my dick inside her and we both moan loud and long. I’ve been on the verge of cumming for awhile now so I don’t waste anymore time. She’s face down, her body surging forward with every hard thrust and her cries are muffled by the comforter. Sweat drips from my brow as I watch my cock disappear inside her wet heat, over and over again. Every time it comes back covered in her cream, I thrust harder. I’m right there but I’m not ready yet. I yank her up by the cuffs, molding her back against my front.

“One more. You can do it.” I growl, licking my fingers and bringing them to her swollen clit.

“I— can’t—!” She cries, her face twisting in anguish even as her body barrels towards release. Her climax triggers my own, her pussy sucking every drop of cum from me until we both finally collapse.

“What’s your favorite color?” She asks sleepily. We’d slept for a few hours only to wake up and go at it again. Now we’re both basking in afterglow as we start to fall back asleep.

“Green.” I murmur, stroking her hair while she rests her head on my shoulder, her naked body half on mine.

“Where’s your dad?” She asks, her voice growing more and more faint as sleep takes her.

“I don’t know.”

“Your mom?”

“Don’t know.” She hums in response, nuzzling in closer and holding me tighter. My throat tightens, making me wonder how I ever slept without her.

I see my phone light up from the nightstand again and I lazily reach for it, checking long enough to make sure it’s not any of the Pogues and sitting it back down. I don’t recognize the number so I ignore it.

Now that I’ve let her in completely a new type of possessiveness takes over. I thought it was bad when we weren’t exclusive and I saw her ex talking to her or putting his hands on her but now.. I might actually shoot someone.

I don’t have to worry about Summer because she has a heart of gold and loves everyone. She’s asked for Y/N and Bo everyday since the beach. Summer often makes me realize that my heart is on the outside of my body and that everything good about me.. is her.

It’s hard not to go to the dark place that wonders why my parents couldn’t get it together. Why they didn’t give a fuck enough to try. To just even fucking try. My dad only wanted anything to do with me when it benefited him. When he could use me to steal something or get out of a bind. But if I disagreed then I met his fists. Eventually he stopped providing and I had to steal to survive. It was a never ending cycle and everyone assumed I was just like him and no wonder my mother left.

Y/N snuggles closer, smelling every bit like me, sex, and her sweet shampoo. The thought of taking her again when she’s probably still dripping my cum is tempting.. but I resist. Tomorrow is Sunday so the Charter is closed and I plan to spend the day with my girls. And Bo. Like I could ever forget about the motherfucker.

I’m almost back to sleep when a sudden pounding on my front door has us both jerking upright. Like a goddamn swat team. I jump out of bed, yank on a pair of shorts and grab my gun.

“Who would be here this late?” Y/N hisses, yanking my shirt down over her head and pulling on my sweats.

“I don’t know. Stay here.” I demand, almost missing the glare she shoots my way. I make my way down the hallway and Y/N trails close behind me. I nearly stop dead in my tracks when I see the familiar flash of lights and someone standing on my door step. Something is wrong. My mind immediately starts to panic. Summer isn’t here.

My throat starts to close as I sit the gun down and open the door to reveal Sheriff Shoupe. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. Cops don’t show up at your doorstep in the middle of the night unless something is wrong and someone is dead. I reach for my phone but it’s not in my pocket. Y/N takes my hand but I barely feel it as my mouth becomes dry and I can’t form words.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news and show up here in the middle of the night.” Shoupe starts, looking more stressed than usual.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Y/N asks, her hand tightening in mine like she can feel my panic. Where’s Summer? Is she safe?

“There’s been an accident.” My knees buckle and I catch myself on the door frame. All I can think about is Summer. Is she okay? Were they in an accident? Is that way I kept getting calls from an unknown number? Is John B..

“Spit it out, Shoupe.” I snap, barely able to get a full breath in my lungs. I can’t breathe. Is this a panic attack? His face remains firm, not giving me lip over my usual attitude.

“There’s been a fire.”

“Oh god.” Y/N gasps, tightening her grip on me as the room starts to spin. Blood rushes to my ears and I can barely hear anything. Summer. My baby.

“Summer..” I choke on her name, my heart threatening to split open in my chest like a gaping wound.

“There were no bodies inside. No one was hurt that we know of. We tried getting ahold of you the last few hours but we know it’s late. Better to do this in person.” Shoupe clarifies, his eyes giving away his sympathy.

If there’s no fire here and there was no bodies then it had to be..

“I’m sorry, JJ, but the Charter burned down earlier this evening. No one caught it until it was too late.”

And just like that… my knees hit the floor.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #obx2 #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #blueicequeen19 #outer banks x reader #wattpad #outer banks fanfiction #tw unprotected sex #jj maybank #charter

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anjaelle · 1 year

Text

Study Buddies

Pairing: College!Dave Lizewski x Black!Reader Summary: He's decidedly taken permanent residence in this dorm room, and you can't say it bothers you much. Warnings: Language, mentions of bruising/battering. Word Count: 2k a/n: The successor to Dumpster Diving. The same two losers in the same universe. Only because you guys asked so nicely.

(gif source)

--x--

"I feel like this is an abuse of my good graces."

You watched as Dave Lizewski climbed through your window for the third time that week and tripped over your extension cord, falling to the floor with a dull thud. He popped back up, readjusting his hoodie and his glasses.

"You really need to move that somewhere."

"Right," you nodded, nudging the power strip with your foot, "gotta make sure my flurry of suitors have clear access to my boudoir."

He cracked a smile at you, one he rarely expressed in public for other people, and you felt your heart thump against your ribs.

Absolutely fucking not.

You plopped onto your bed and crossed your legs, "Okay, Kick-Ass, what brings you to my window this time?"

You were prepared for another round of bruises and cuts from endless fights he seemed to get himself into. Sometimes he explained the injuries, other times he didn't. But he was just happy he had someone who could help him without asking too many questions.

This time he simply shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back on his heels.

"I kinda...just wanted to see you today."

"Oh!"

There was a heavy pause and he scratched the back of his head.

"Yeaaaah."

You propped your chin on your fist, inquisitively, eying the way he seemed to fit so seamlessly into your living space. "You just saw me at study group this afternoon."

"C'mon you know it's not the same."

He was right. Sure, you had the tendency to sit next to each other in study group and bump knees. And you could feel his glances every five minutes. And sure, when he wasn't passing glances at you, you were passing glances at him wondering why he wasn't looking at you.

And, yes, you did know what it felt like to have him sleep on your chest while you stroked his soft curly hair. But that usually only happened after you got him sorted out. This was new.

You scooted over and patted the space next to you on the bed, which he happily plopped down on like he always did after leaning over to kiss you on the forehead.

"So you came all this way and climbed the side of a building for little old me? I still don't know why you don't use the front door."

“The security guard creeps me out. Besides, I’m not spider-man. I just used some guy’s ladder.”

“You stole someone’s ladder?”

“He wasn’t using it!”

“What if he’s on some roof trying to get down now?”

He stared at you. You stared back. His eyes widened.

"I'll be right back!" He jumped up and rushed out the door, shouting behind him, "Prop the front door open for me!"

He came back about ten minutes later, red-faced with a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. His hair was messy like he'd been running, and his glasses were slightly askew.

"So..."he took a deep breath and wiped his hands on his sweater, "there was a guy on the roof. He was really pissed and, uh, I got freaked out and ran."

You noticed the grass stains on his clothes, which was clear evidence that he tripped and fell at least once on the way back. It was hard not to feel the swell of...something...deep in the pit of your stomach.

"Another job well done, Kick-Ass. Always thinking of the common man." You playfully tugged at the zipper of his hoodie, zipping it up and down while he cleaned his dirty glasses off on the Watchmen shirt you got him.

Because that's what friends did. You bought stuff for each other. For fun.

He didn't think twice about stripping down to his underclothes to throw his things in the wash. His reasons were partially because his roommates were always too lazy to clear their machine out for him to use, partially because he really liked your detergent (he admitted that the smell reminded him of you), and partially because he knew you didn't like when he wore his "gross street clothes" in your room.

Which was absolutely fair.

After throwing his grass-stained, dirty clothes in the wash, he flopped onto your bed and stared at the fairy lights that decorated the ceiling. You sat cross-legged next to him, looking him over and subconsciously checking for new injuries. You'd learned first aid just to help him with his stitches...and the occasional bullet removal. You didn't learn the bullet removal in first aid class. You puked the first time. You could still see the messy stitching in his shoulder where he was shot.

The mixtape he made for you played lowly out of the speaker on your desk, and you heard him humming softly to himself in thought.

"I like your room." He suddenly said, tilting his head to fully address you.

You cracked a smile at him, "Yeah I can tell. You've been hanging out here every other day for the last 2 months. You might as well move in."

A light, airy laugh bubbled out of him in waves. It sounded almost like a giggle, which made you giggle too.

"Why are we laughing?" You asked bumping him with your knee.

Dave pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he thought deeply about what he wanted to say next. The fact that he lacked a poker face made him relatively easy to read--and he's said the same about you at least once.

He tapped your knee with his knuckle, "Nothing. I--just...nothing. I promise."

You sat in comfortable silence again as the music filled the room and the gentle golden lights cast shadows along the walls.

"Has anyone ever followed you here?" You asked.

"No."

It was a stern, short answer. Absolute. Definite. His eyes scanned you from head to toe before settling on your face. It was the most serious you'd ever seen him. When he propped himself on his elbow to rest his head on his hand, he clenched his jaw.

"I'd never let that happen. I would never come here first because I'd never put you in the position to be in danger."

"I know," you admitted, carefully, "I was just wondering--"

"I'd never let anything happen to you." He stated with a shrug.

You instinctively reached out and pushed his dark curls back and away from his eyes, "I thought I was the one keeping you safe. How did we get here?"

In one swift motion, he wrapped his arms around you to pull you on top of him like you weighed nothing. His strength always seemed to surprise you. You barely had time to let out a shocked squeak.

"You can't keep doing that."

His eyes widened, "Did that hurt? I'm sorry--"

"No," you swatted his chest, playfully, "I'm fine. I'm just never really prepared for it."

When he was sure he didn't severely traumatize you with his displays of affection, he resumed rubbing small, lazy circles into your lower back.

"Sorry for startling you."

"You're forgiven."

He leaned forward and kissed your nose.

Dave Lizewski was an enigma. Beneath the nervousness, the dorkiness, the shyness, and general earnestness was someone who surprisingly had a lot of game. You used to imagine that he practiced his lines in the mirror before he visited you. Then you realized...no. He's just very honest when he's comfortable.

You rested your head on his chest to listen to his strong, steady heartbeat that seemed to pick up speed. When you reached up to gently touch the healing scar on his collarbone where he was nearly stabbed, he shifted under you.

"What are you thinking?" He suddenly asked.

"I get scared for you sometimes."

He said nothing, but you felt his hand pause before continuing its trek down your back.

"You're still a human being, y'know," you added, "even when I pulled you out of the dumpster--"

"Which I still thank you for, by the way."

You snorted, "You're welcome. But even when I pulled you from the dumpster, you could've died from how high you fell. And then there's the stabbing, and the shooting, and you got hit by a crowbar once..."

He seemed to consider this. Then he said, "Someone has to do it. No one else on campus--in town--has stepped up to the plate yet."

"But why does it have to be you?"

"Why not me?"

"You can't answer my question with another question, you asshat."

He laughed at your outburst and lightly patted you on the butt.

"Compromise? I pinky swear to stop after graduation."

You didn't believe him. But when he held his pinky out to you, you wrapped yours around his and he pulled you in for a quick peck on the lips.

"Fine. But if you're still running around lower manhattan in a onesie at 26, I'm telling your dad."

You curled yourself back up against his chest while he curled one of your braids around his finger, absentmindedly.

"You don't have to worry about that, by the way." He said, dropping your hair, "I just really, really like the idea of you still being in my life four or five years from now."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Dave nervously pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again, "I dunno. I just...I think you're really cool and I know I can be weird sometimes. And I know you might not see me the way I see you but-"

You leaned forward to kiss him once and then twice. And as your curled your fingers into his hair, he seemed to melt into your touch with a soft groan. He pulled away just enough to rip his glasses off and toss them in the corner before pulling you in again. He wrapped a calloused hand around the back of your neck when you nipped at his lower lip. Your fingernails slipped under his undershirt to walk along the sensitive skin of his lower stomach, just above the waistband of his boxers, and he shuddered.

"Fuck," he hissed, kissing along your jaw and down your throat, "God, I love you."

Your eyes popped open. "What?"

"What?"

He trailed kisses back up to your lips like nothing happened, but you could feel his heart thudding in his chest.

"Did you... just say...you loved me?" You asked, between kisses. He pulled away and stared at you with panic in his wide blue eyes.

"Yes. No. Yes...shit did I ruin it? Do you want me to go?"

"No."

You felt a rush of an unexplained emotion flow through you as you pulled your hand out from under his shirt.

He traced the shape of your lower lip with this thumb before dropping his hand to your shoulder, "I--you don't have to say it back. It just slipped out."

You rolled off of him and crawled up the bed to rest your back against the wall. He hesitated, then slid into the space beside you.

"I lied," he mumbled, "I was gonna say it before, but you distracted me with your mouth. Again."

You sighed and reached over to hold his hand.

"How long?"

"Since last semester."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

You watched him thump his head against the wall, "Because I didn't want to ruin our friendship. But, y'know, we crossed that line the first time we smanged, I think."

"Please don't say smanged."

You could hear the grin in his voice without looking at him, "We smanged."

You flicked him on the shoulder and he laughed. Some of the nervous tension melted away as he squeezed your hand.

"Like I said," he continued, "you don't have to say it back. It's okay if you don't feel the same way."

You thought for a moment about how often you worried about him and how often he watched over you. He seemed to always be around, even when he wasn't physically there. Dave was undoubtedly your best friend. You turned to look at him only to find him already watching you with the most intense gaze you'd ever seen. Felt your cheeks heat up.

"I'm not sure if it's love yet." You said, carefully, "But...I think it could be."

#aaron taylor johnson x black!reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj x reader #atj x black!reader #dave lizewski x reader #jaelle writes

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tonkatsubowl · 7 months

Text

false love v.

jing yuan x fem!reader

nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk.

english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until…

TERM DIRECTORY

◖y/n: your name

◖e/c: eye color

◖h/c: hair color

◖l/n: last name

part one. ꕤ part two. ꕤ part three. ꕤ part four. ꕤ part six. ꕤ part seven.

➽ requested tags: @krowjet @beidousbubz @its-astrotea-love @5sos-wdw

ever since that incident had occurred, general jing yuan had decided to enforce security measures around the residential and city parts of xianzhou luofu. no woman should go through the terrors that you've been through, and never shall you ever suffer through those traumatizing events ever again.

the one thing that was definitely different though was how you stood up for yourself. you never once did, in fear that your father would scold you... or really, it was your brain that was so accustomed to fear, you were deathly afraid of standing up to it.

but you finally did. and you didn't know why—but the reason for it all was the man that stood in front of you several times, carrying a basket of fresh fruit and a small cutting knife in his free hand.

doctor's orders—you remained in the infirmary room for a couple of weeks now, and life had been strangely... well, unsurprisingly enough, peaceful. you were taken care of, and your husband had frequented the infirmary to visit you every day. he brought you a fresh plate of neatly cut fruit, some stories to tell, and he often brought mimi (sometimes the nurse hated how much she shed in the room) to purr and snuggle against you.

a day didn't pass without jing yuan visiting you, and you definitely expected his presence at least twice a day... or thrice, even.

...until today.

"huh? you're... you're going somewhere?" your eyes avert towards the general, confusion evident as he looked at you with his usual, loving and soft gaze. "where to? are... will you be busy?"

the marriage between you and jing yuan had definitely enabled some sort of separation anxiety behavior from you. he had always been by your side no matter what, especially during your days of recovering in the infirmary room.

"yes, y/n," he reached out to your countenance, his index finger brushing against your bangs, moving them behind your ear, "you will always be my priority. however, today must be different, for i must tend to my personal duties. i assure you that i will return safely, and the nurses will make sure that your needs are met during my absence."

...gone? was this a lie? a lie to get rid of you? no, no. stop, don't think like that. if he wanted to get rid of you, he would've done so already. you shake your head from your negative thoughts, fighting every bit of doubt and anxiety that plagued your mind.

"...okay." you nod, your gaze lowering to your bare hands, eyeing a piece of freshly cut strawberry in the palm of your hand, "please be safe... please come back home safely."

that was several hours ago.

to be specific, almost an entire day had passed since jing yuan left to his unknown expedition. for whatever reason, you didn't know. lieutenant yan qing wasn't around either, so you could only assume that his right hand man had accompanied him.

now, you were alone in your infirmary, sitting on your bed as you stared out into the moonlight. you could see the aurum alley from here, watching as the streets were bustling with joy, drunkards and happy children. you thought back to when jing yuan had taken you there, too. you had fun, up until you were abducted that same night.

nothing but your thoughts accompanied you, and you definitely were... tense. tense, anxious, nervous... and worried, even if you tried not to be worried.

you had missed jing yuan, and every time you had heard distant footsteps outside your door, you'd always expect and hope that it belonged to the military general. unfortunately, it wasn't exactly him, and it would be mere nurses who wandered around outside, even entering your room which gave you the false hope that your husband returned.

... but where did he go? he didn't tell you where, and wasn't being specific either. his personal... affairs? what did he mean by that?

you sighed silently to yourself as you got up from your bed, knowing you weren't supposed to be getting up. you grit your teeth, bearing through the pain as you wanted to know more information about his whereabouts... why he was being secretive. why he suddenly disappeared...

you knew you shouldn't be doing this but also... you missed the fresh breath of air. so you decided to sneak out, rip the medical monitor lines taped to your body and make your way outside whilst sneaking around the nurses and avoiding their gazes.

you were in pain, but you were losing your mind as you were stuck in that room for gods know how long? the moment you got out, you felt a fresh wave of freedom brushing over you... the same feeling where you left your home for the first time to move towards the sanctum.

you looked towards the sky, eyeing at the moon as it gazed upon you with his full glory, as though expecting you to return to it's brightening embrace. you inhale, taking in the fresh scent of air, missing the distant scent of herbal tea and nature that twirled within the air...

... ah, how you miss jing yuan. you wondered how he was doing...

"are you sure you want to do this?" yan qing frowned. "i mean, i'm not questioning your commands at all, sir. but it's just... do you suspect the l/n family is associated with the xianzhou black market of some kind?"

jing yuan nodded slowly. "notice the patterns of the past abductions. it's becoming quite obvious, even especially after what had happened with y/n. all women, all near her age, and all... hailing from troublesome families."

yan qing pondered for a moment, placing his knuckles underneath his chin as he closed his eyes.

"...general. what theories do you have then? for the reasoning of her abduction?"

"i'm assuming it'd have to do something with the disciples of sanctus medicus." jing yuan pursed his lips. "although, y/n's family did not have any history pertaining to... well, the cult itself. the father seemed too arrogant for any religious beliefs whatsoever, only wanting power."

"he didn't seem he was interested in eternal life, but money instead." yan qing added, looking towards the household that belonged to the l/n family.

it was a massive structure, built off of wealth itself. there were several floors to it, and each room was probably filled with a grand amount of fortune. both yan qing and jing yuan stood before the structure, with a singular cloud knight that stood behind the two.

"does miss y/n know... that we're here?" yan qing looked towards his leader, who responded with a shake of his head.

"i do not want her to be troubled by her family anymore... i doubt 'family' is a fitting term for what they are to her. i believe this part of her deserves to be torn away from who she is. after all, if these abductions are related to her father, then we might as well try to find evidence and stop them before something else occurs."

yan qing nodded. "yes, general."

the lieutenant glances back to the cloud knight, nodding towards him. "as we planned before, you will be coming with me. while the general speaks to the family."

the cloud knight saluted, "yes sir!"

when jing yuan, yan qing and the cloud knight entered the building, they were greeted by the servants of the l/n family. the head of the l/n family, y/n's father, had shown a false façade of a wonderful and kind father. he approaches the general, holding his hands with glee as yan qing and the cloud knight discreetly separated from the general, leaving him alone with the family.

"ah, general jing yuan! i am honored to see you again," y/n's father said as he held the man's hands, shaking them firmly, "why, i heard about the recent injury that my daughter has been inflicted by. that is such terrible news, i'm saddened by the fact i am unable to see my precious daughter, as i have been troubled by my work and..."

as he went off, jing yuan's kind smile never left him. he read through this man easily — what a liar.

"ah, it's alright that you can't visit her, my father," jing yuan speaks in a formal voice, bowing his head with his kind smile, "i understand your duties, for i am the general of xianzhou luofu, after all. i can relate to your priorities and the tasks you must face." jing yuan laughed with your father. "i apologize for showing up while you are busy with your tasks."

"oh, no no no! not at all," your father shook his head, "why, you actually came in perfect timing! i had prepared some lavender tea. my dearest wife had ordered some a while back and they actually came today."

jing yuan nodded. "i see. i would love to have some."

while jing yuan was occupied with your father, yan qing and the cloud knight were handling their own mission. they tracked down where the office was that belonged to your father while hiding from the wandering servants and your relatives before reaching to the door of the office. they entered, greeted by the smell of fresh, lavender tea.

"search his cabinets," yan qing said, "i'll search his desk."

"yes, sir."

yan qing proceeded make his way towards the office desk, looking through his paperwork. some of it wasn't even relevant to the mission as some paperwork was related to money, something about hiring new servants and...

"...?"

his eyes laid upon a letter that caught his eye, terms of it catching his attention immediately.

┈┈┈

...head of the l/n family. we will accept your beautiful daughter as a vessel to our beloved yaoshi. please do the following for us:

the vessel of yaoshi must be lifeless, unfortunately. yaoshi must not accompany a body with a soul already residing within. the body must be beheaded, or dead.

we look forward to your delivery,

disciples of the sanctus medicus.

┈┈┈

"lieutenant, sir! i have found something." the cloud knight speaks up, holding up several documents. each one were well hidden in between a bookshelf, and each one were labeled with "disciples of sanctus medicus".

yan qing pocketed the letter he found before approaching the cloud knight, grabbing the papers he held before looking towards his ally's discovery. more information about y/n... her weight, height, age, birthday... there was a look of disgust on yan qing's face as he pocketed it.

"... disgusting." he murmured. "we'll take these and report back to the general. let's leave, quickly."

"yes, sir!"

"it was so nice seeing you, jing yuan! please, visit us again." y/n's mother stated as she embraced her husband's arm, watching as the general waved goodbye, leaving on his own.

it didn't take long for the general to return to his headquarters, where he was greeted by the discovery of the connection of yaoshi's cult and y/n.

his hand was placed underneath his chin, eyes gazing upon each piece of evidence found.

"...sir." yan qing said to jing yuan. "you're hiding this from lady y/n... yes?"

"that is the plan. there is too much trauma she has already faced. we don't need to torment her more by bringing up her past... and its discoveries."

"even so," the lieutenant frowned, "i feel as if this is information that she needs to hear."

"...hm. for now, we hide this from her. later on when we arrest her father, we'll reveal the evidence and... tell her."

"yes, general."

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan #honkai star rail jing yuan

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netherfeildren · 9 months

Text

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter II : Prometheus

Series Masterlist

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence; Blood and gore; Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse; Description of injury; Angst; Possessive behavior

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word count: 6.7K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER II : PROMETHEUS

What is mortality after all but divine doubt flashing over us?

-Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red

As the days turned to weeks turned to months since that moment in the dark with the Mandalorian, there had been a steadily rising thrum of tumultuous, frenzied energy coiling within you. A ball of hissing, ravenous snakes ready to strike at any moment. Desire turned to want turned to a demand that you were ill equipped to deal with – emotionally and mentally.

You’d had many things in your life that you’d wanted but had not been able to have, and yet that did not mean that you’d ever been good at not getting them. Impulse control, a staying hand, were not things the Maker had blessed you with.

You’d met an old Ugnaught female with a penchant for loving spotchka and Sabacc a little too much. More than she’d ever enjoyed keeping steady work or following the rules or anything else really. You and she had some things in common when it came to that pesky little issue of impulse control. After a brief acquaintanceship, she’d put you on to a group that met sometimes on Nevarro to… support each other… or better yet, to sit around and discuss your issues and vices together in some pseudo imitation of self improvement – the art of staying one’s hand, or whatever you wanted to call it – and if it was not with much success, it was with intention, which you thought was, in the end, just as significant. She said she found the meetings understanding or companionable or something you pretended to tell yourself you didn’t care about.

And sometimes you went.

If for nothing else, to feel as if there were at least a few people in the entire galaxy who knew your name, who knew you were alive, who knew you were alone. You sat there amongst the old and weathered humans and the other ragtag team of varying organics and even the occasional droid, and listened to their stories and their losses and their fear during the reign of the Empire – their struggle, their fight, their apathy now, to survive, to stay afloat in the bleak imperial aftermath.

One such survivor with a nasty love for Spice, needled you the worst. His face was haggard, tired, and there was something so forlorn about him, something that sent a sudden flash of fear through you. Is that what I will be one day? Is that what I already am? I am a person, you think wearily, aren’t I? His voice was tough and ragged, as if he’d gone out into the lava fields and swallowed a chunk of ashen rock to fill his belly, savaging his throat in the process, grating your ears and your nerves.

“Nothing really feels better than when I’m drinking a bottle of spotchka, Spice humming through my veins, watching the sunset. My worries, my fears… they don’t weigh as heavily on my shoulders. And what else is there to do? This is easy. I am good at this. It is a simple thing, even if I must forsake all the rest. And I am tired. I want peace.”

You could understand this.

What else had there been to do under the subjugation of a darker and more powerful force than you could have ever been? You had been young and alone and terrified. In possession of a power beyond your understanding. You had been enslaved, trapped, abused, and then, for a moment, on a precipice. One which you’d taken a leap off of at the first chance. Now though, you were tired, and you too, wanted peace. Even if you weren’t entirely sure if you still believed in the concept. Once, it had seemed easy to lay down and take it, do as you were told. Until it wasn’t, or… until there had been the opportunity for something different. When the Sith lords were crumbling into obscurity and failure one by one, until only you and your master remained. A singular darkness in the galaxy. A lone chance, a step too far, to run had been all you’d needed. A flash of beskar in your mind – screaming, the snuffing of a silver flame – you blink the nightmare, memory, away, be honest with yourself, eyes pressed together tightly, spiky lashes crinkling between your lids.

And you, girl? What about you? What do you have to tell?

Me? Nothing. Nothing to tell – nothing you’d not burn me for.

Or the truth: it was discovered that I could wield the Force when I was a young child. I was hunted, my parents were slaughtered, and I was stolen. Turned and enfolded into their cult. I never had a chance. I never had a choice. I am trying to find my choices again.

The Jedi, the Sith, the Empire, they all fell a long time ago. I need to let the past die, but I will not die with it. So, you do not share that which would get you killed. You could very well be taken for an Imperial remnant and hunted, executed. No matter that you’d been just as powerless, despite everything, just as tortured, just as subjugated as anyone else, in all the ways that really counted. Despite everything – sometimes this great power counted for very little.

They had wanted to make you a God, but a God muzzled, a God restrained.

God struck, God swept, God nonsensical.

Your dreams are always strange and violent now – nightmares of a terrible past coalescing with hopes of a better future. How to reconcile that hideous thing you had been once before with the better thing you were trying to be now? Too difficult to conceptualize. No matter how many times you listened to your strange group of fellow survivors and vice-havers – a funny thing for what would they say, do, to you, if they knew that unlike their spotchka or Spice addictions, your predilection was of a darker nature – to kill, to maim, to destroy?

You leave Nevarro for a time, after that realization. That no matter how much you might ingratiate yourself, no matter the connections you may pretend to make, there is still that, there is still the truth of you.

The second time you meet him, you are where you should not be.

You’d come to Corellia. Filled with a sick and twisted sort of glee that you could roll around in the worst underbelly of the galaxy and survive, hold your own. It was an exercise in restraint and brawn and arrogance, too, perhaps. The crime syndicates running untethered, spice trade, and the harsh reality of industrial life made for a cesspool of the worst sort of cretins.

In some ways, it was exciting for you, and you knew you were looking for something. Something to whet your appetite, quench your thirst, fill the void.

After all, it had been two months, what felt like millenia, since that dark storage alcove where he’d imprinted himself in you. Weeks of having the ghost of him haunt you, the memory of his rough voice whispering phantom-like in your ear, seeing him in your dreams, your nightmares. Desperate interludes in whatever cold and lonely bed you’d claimed for the night, your fingers rubbing frantically at your slippery, swollen clit, trying to chase that feeling he’d pulled out of you and failing. Mandalorian, Mandalorian, Mandalorian. And then, one late night, when you’re on the trail of one such lead towards self destruction, masqueraded as a good time, there, around the corner, in the distance – like a wound of beskar looming in the night – it’s your Mandalorian.

You pause your skulking, stepping back to wrap yourself in the shadows, away from prying eyes. You take him in. Fucking tall and broad, outlined in pale flickering silver. He’s arguing with a young Corellian, sticking his finger in the male's face threateningly, other hand hovering menacingly over his blaster, and you can’t help but snicker. Surly beast, that he is. There is a large part of you that does not want him to see you, who had hoped you’d never again come across him, and then a quieter, but infinitely harder part of you to ignore…

The helmet snaps towards you suddenly, as if sensing your attention, cocks to the side – very much like some predatory animal casting sights on its next meal – his next bounty. You don’t need further warning, you spin on your heel and start in the opposite direction. Heart knocking on the walls of your chest to be let out, let me out, let me out, I want to go with him, cunt going tight and wet, ridiculous, desperate.

A chant that sings: again, again, again, chase me again. Catch me again. I don't know you, but I missed you anyway. I remember you, and I want you.

That dark, red thread snaps taut again, humming with the song of your fates. You already know how this is going to end. How you want it to end.

You always know how everything is going to end.

You pick up your pace, trying to confuse him with your turnarounds, sliding through the alleys and archways and scurrying around corners quickly, and then on one particularly slippery turn, there he is. An impenetrable wall of beskar that you’re slamming into, jarring your brain within your skull, shaking your heart in the cage of your ribs, jostling an impish little giggle out of you.

A pause to catch your breath, he’d cut around and surprised you somehow, “Mandalorian.”

“Brat.” You laugh, his voice is still the same. The depth of it, not a figment of your imagination.

“Fancy meeting you here. On holiday?” You croon, dragging a single, provoking finger across his chest plate, stepping closer to him, pressing up on your tiptoes to grin up at him. You listen to his huff of vexation through the modulator. Oh, don’t pretend, shiny. I know you love this too.

“What are you doing here? Corellia isn’t safe.” Stern, stern tone. If you’d let him huff and puff at you, you’re sure he would.

You roll your eyes at him, as if anything on this planet could do any real harm to the likes of you. “Oh, don’t I know it. I’ve caused the greatest trouble while I’ve been here. It’s been terrible fun.”

He shakes his head down at you disapprovingly, one hand propped on his hip like he’s gearing up to chastise you, readying that menacing finger to shake at you too. You shimmy up against him some more, pressing your breasts up against his chest plate, and you listen to a whisper soft groan vibrate through that impenetrable mask. Not so impenetrable as to keep you out, though, so it seems. You tuck the tips of both hands into the top edge of his breast plate to pull your own face up towards his, and even then, he still has to crook his neck down to look at you. He doesn’t buckle, not even a little bit, under the weight of you trying to hang off of him. You feel one of his hands come up to cup the sharp edge of your elbow, and even through the thick fabric of your dark tunic and the leather of his gloves, his touch feels like fire, like the Force. Stronger than anything else in the whole universe. For some reason, you can feel that deep well of power within you stir at the sight of him, at his touch, like a swirling pool of magma, waiting to rise up and spill out unencumbered. You feel on edge, stretched thin and held together only by frayed seams.

“Did you miss me, Mandalorian?” He tugs you slightly further into the shadow of the building’s side looking up and around the two of you for one moment, oh, yes, yes, yes, again, again, making sure your surroundings are clear.

“You like to be chased,” he says back.

“I like to be caught.”

“By me.”

“By you.” Truth.

“Only me.” It seems he’s finally learned to flirt.

You step up onto his big boot with the tip of one small foot, really trying to climb him in earnest now, bringing yourself up even closer to him, and he wraps his other hand around your waist beneath your cloak, the tips of his long fingers splayed over the top swell of your ass to press your pelvis into his. You bury your nose into the folds of his cape around his throat, breathing in the warm, masculine scent of him, hooking an arm around the back of his neck. You want to kiss him.

“Last time, you said, maybe next time. Is that now?” You breathe into that dark space beneath his helmet’s edge.

You listen to his soft groan, the two of you pulling each other in even closer, trying to meld yourselves to each other, liquid metal’s mixing, beskar melted and writhing amidst fire and flame, and as you’re about to beg him to find another dark alcove for the two of you, you sense them at the same time that his helmet snaps up and to the side, right as they’re descending upon the shadows where you’re hidden, too late to block their blaster fire as they open upon the two of you without any sort of protection to shield yourselves with. Your reaction time is delayed blocking their attack, distracted by him, by his touch, and too long since you’ve openly and freely wielded your power, and he spins, suddenly, huge frame hunching over your smaller one to protect you from the onslaught, to shield you. You hear the bolts of plasma make contact with the beskar over his back, and then his harsh, pained groan as they meet the unprotected places between the gaps in his armor. You spot the Corellian he was arguing with before, over his shoulder.

A savage growl rips from his throat as his knees buckle, and you wrap one arm around his strong waist, trying to hold him up as he struggles to remain upright. He’s been hit badly in the side, you feel the hot seep of his blood spill. You raise your other hand over his shoulder then, a furious seeping coil starting to move through your body.

“You’re hit,” you whisper up at him. One of his hands claws at your shoulder, he’s so heavy, while the other braces against the wall behind you, trying to remain upright.

“My blaster,” he snarls, “Take my blaster. Run.”

“It’s alright,” you say calmly, even though you feel anything but. You can feel his life force literally seeping out of him, and you’re hit, square in the face, with the realization of how truly strong he is. He is so potent, so alive, that his presence in the Force is almost a physical thing despite his lack of powers. The Force lives through us all, and he is powerful, all in his own right, purely for the vitality of him.

He is strong and good, and that seeping coil turns into a ravenous howl.

There is a group of five organics of varying species surrounding the two of you, frozen by that lifted hand of yours. It closes into a fist, and three of them fall instantly dead, minds pulverized under the force of your power. The edges of your vision go slightly dark.

“It’s going to be alright,” you say gently to him again. His hand on your shoulder is twisting painfully into your clothes, your joint straining beneath his strength, and he shakes you sharply, trying to push you away. “Fucking go. Why aren’t you moving?” One of his knees buckles, his voice wavers. He’s bleeding out so fast. You grip him beneath his elbows and start to slowly help him lower to the ground. One of his knees suddenly gives out, cracking harshly against the hard ground beneath. “What are you doing?” There’s a flavor of desperation infusing his tone. As if he’s worried for you. As if he is worried for you. “There are too many of them, and I’m–” His voice cuts off with a choked snarl of agony. He’s hurt, he’s hurt. You need to move quickly, or he’s going to die.

“It’ll be alright, Mandalorian. Wait here. I’ll be right back for you.” He says something more, something growled that sounds suspiciously like, fucking hate it when you say Mandalorian like that, can’t kriffing do as you’re told, but your attention is no longer on him. You step in front of him, blocking the sight of his fallen form from the two remaining, soon to be dead, males. You cast a wide net of the Force around the four of you. Besides the three dead bodies, there is nothing else awake and lurking in the shadows for about a two kilometer radius. Lovely.

The Corellian is obviously the leader. You look towards the other first, a big, ugly Trandoshan, and as you set your sights on him, you release him from his paralysis, giving him a moment to get his bearings and reach for his blaster. He scrambles to pull it from its holster and fires directly at you. And at your once again raised hand, the beam of plasma freezes mid air in a thrumming, angry screech of red magma. You listen to the Trandoshan’s horrified gasp, watch his eyes go wide and terrified through your splayed fingers, “You’re–”

“Yes. I am.” You send the blaster beam back in his direction with a slight flick of your wrist, piercing him directly through the throat, and leaving a wide, smoking hole of charred flesh clean through its ugly neck. The body falls to the damp street with a harsh thud.

“And you?” You turn toward the Corellian. “Were you his bounty?” His eyes are frenzied, manic, terrified, “Ah, Sith got your tongue?” The acrid scent of urine permeates the air, and you let out a barking little chirp of a laugh. You can feel the Mandalorian fading behind you, struggling to stay alert. No time to play with your food. There is a part of you, small or large, you can’t tell now, in the haze of the Force overwhelming you after not having used it like this in so long, that is worried that this is a step in the wrong direction. You haven’t killed in a long time – not since that last one. No – don’t think of it. Not now. Not with him here. And perhaps, this is a step in the wrong direction, a step backwards, but there’s really no choice. They’ve hurt him.

You have no choice other than this.

You reach for your lightsaber strapped into a holster low on your thigh, an inconspicuous place where you can hide it in the dark folds of your clothes. You’ve not wielded one since your escape, since that last time. Your heart beats painfully in your chest, and you can’t tell if it’s more of a blood hungry sort of excitement or out of fear for him, lying wounded behind you.

“No… I’m just kidding.” A girlish little giggle, “I’m not a Sith anymore. Don’t worry. If I were still that, I’d draw this out. Make you suffer for a very, very long time for hurting him.” You pull something from your person then, and the night is filled with the crackling hissing sound of an igniting lightsaber. He’s never seen one in person before – only heard of them in stories. The dark street illuminated with the bright light of a violet colored plasma cross guard that sputters and wavers furiously, unstable, like the sound of metal being clawed to shreds. Despite the protection of his helmet, Din squeezes his eyes shut for an instant, afraid that the bright light would blind him, sear his retinas from their sockets.

You are a burning effigy washed in the violet light of righteous fury as you stalk slowly towards his, soon to be dead, bounty. Din has no power, but if he did, he is certain that he would be able to feel your presence in the Force as surely as he feels the blaster hole in his flank. Even powerless, he’s sure he can feel the humming waves of your strength brushing up against his armor clad form.

“She’s never been wet before.” Your voice is inexplicably lovely, soft and lilting. It had been the first thing he’d noticed about you, after those hypnotizing eyes that had terrified him for the intensity of feeling they conveyed, the two warring colors, one lighter than the other, one cast in perpetual darkness and the other so vibrantly bright it almost glows. The way they’d enthralled him, forced him to go after you that night on Nevarro, if only so that he could look into them one more time. “You’ll be my first blood with this – I made her just recently…” You say casually, lifting the lightsaber up to appreciate it between the two of them. The Corellian is frozen still, and Din assumes that you’re holding him so. You’d killed all the rest without so much as a blink. You’d stopped the fucking blaster bolt mid air. Din has never witnessed such a thing in his entire life. He thinks, for a brief moment, that perhaps, he should be frightened, or worried. He’s bleeding out, he’s dying, prone on the ground and vulnerable, and this girl is of a capacity he’s never encountered thus far in all his travels through the galaxy.

But he is not.

For some reason, the Mandalorian is not afraid.

“Pretty, no?” You croon at the Corellian, and if Din was of a sound mind, and not currently delirious from blood loss, he’s sure he’d not have felt that twinge of ridiculous jealousy twist through his gut at hearing you give that soft voice to another male. You twirl the blade so fast he scarcely catches it, then lets your wrist fall, the angry buzzing tip of plasma touches the ground so it screeches and hisses. You seem to deflate for a second, arms hanging limply at your sides, and shake your head at him. “You hurt him,” you say so softly he has to strain to hear through the haze of blood loss. He’s fading. He does not want to leave you alone. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

You should not have to face this alone.

Another lightning fast twist of your wrist, the violet beam an arc of pure light through the night’s dark air, and then: “He’s mine.”

You slice the Corellian diagonally from hip to shoulder. Din does not think the creature even has a moment to realize what’s been done to him before the two halves of its body are sliding clean and wet against each other and crumpling to the ground with a sickening thud.

When you turn back to look down upon him, your eyes are filled with so much fear and hurt and desolation, and Din must close his own eyes to shutter himself away from the terrible sight of your pain. He never wants to see that look in you again.

You seem to be a complicated amalgamation of a woman. At once strange and mercurial and violent. Wholly unreachable, unknowable. And then at the next moment: frightened, tender, soft. With a vulnerability that brings every protective, fighting instinct out in Din. Everything that makes him a Mandalorian. Everything that he holds so dearly within his Creed, you call to, after only one meeting in the dark. To protect you, to care for you, to venerate you. And the shroud of loneliness, the air of other that surrounds you, as if you’d never known the soft touch of a caring hand, the loving embrace of a mother – calls to the very same things within Din’s own soul. The same things he’d never had but always wanted. They were the same, and yet, so vastly different. Existing on two separate ends of the galaxy's spectrum. Creatures meant to be enemies, perhaps, to kill each other. And yet here he found himself, prostrate and bleeding on the ground as you defended his life. Entirely at you mercy.

And now you’ve saved him.

His eyes flutter shut once again, consciousness winking away.

He’s as heavy as a star blasted bantha, and you feel that your bones will surely crack and crumble to dust beneath the weight of him leaning over your shoulder while you try to get him coherent enough to move his legs and walk. While at the same time, as inconspicuously as possible, trying to use the Force to support him on his other side, a tendril of power applying pressure to the ragged, bleeding hole in his side without drawing too much attention to yourselves. And then, also, of course, with the added strain of tugging the two separate halves of his bounty behind you, wrapped in some discarded tarp you’d found because even bleeding out and two paces away from dropping dead he’d still had the wherewithal for a muttered, don’t leave my bounty. If you roll your eyes at him any harder they’d surely fall right out of your skull.

You are a small human, and he is a big, big man. Who is currently providing absolutely no help.

“Kriffing come on, Mandalorian. You’ve got to help me out here. You’re heavier than a fucking rancor covered in all this metal.”

You see him shake his head out of the corner of your eye, trying to stir himself into coherence, “How did you do that?” He slurs.

“You’re fucking heavy,” you whine, drawing out the vowel at the end and ignoring his question.

You hear a small huff of air pass through the modulator, “You’re just too– too small.” His words are too slow, his voice too weak. You try and propel the two of you forwards faster.

“Psshh, don’t provoke me, or I’ll drop you.”

“How’d you– you do that? T– Too small…” A pained, savage snarl as he stumbles. You exert more of the Force to prop him up. Fuck it, if someone notices the two of you, you’ll just kill them. What’s one more after you’d just gone and done away with five in one fell swoop after months and months of nothing – of peace?

You’re sure your mind, and that disgustingly soft heart that’s been trying to force its way to life inside of your chest recently, will make you pay for this later.

“I’m a wizard,” you deadpan. You’re sweating beneath your heavy layers, slightly dizzy from exerting so much power so quickly. You’re beginning to think that going completely cold bantha steak and cutting yourself off from the Force had been a mistake. You feel wrung out and stretched thin and weak.

“No– not, little one,” he stutters.

“That’s it. I’m dropping you.” But you clutch your arm tighter around his waist, pressing your cheek up against the space between his shoulder pauldron and the edge of his chest plate. You can feel the sweltering heat from his skin steaming through the heavy material of his underweave.

“Are not.” You can hear the wet gasps of his panting breath under the helmet, and the sleeve of the arm you have wrapped around his waist feels soaked through with his blood. You don’t know how he’s still conscious and making the best attempt he can to walk after all this.

“Maker, what do you eat, beskar for breakfast also? Just tell me where your damn ship is before more of those mudscuffers find us.”

“Landing bay seven,” And you thread your fingers through the hand of the arm he’s got slung over your shoulders, tightly. You have to move faster. You have to make him be okay. But despite your anxiety and desire to rush, the two of you make your way slowly through the Corellian alleyways. Him, struggling to remain upright, you, trying desperately to not make your invisible strength entirely obvious.

And you fail to notice the slithery little Twi’lek, watching the two of you from the shadows, completely unaware that she will await your return to Corellia for a long, long time to come.

Dragging his heavy ass in through the open hatch of his, believe it or not, piece of shit pre Imperial gun ship, with a grumbled, nice hunk of junk, that all he’d been able to counter with was a defensive hiss, as your arms were about to snap off under his weight, feels like a singular sort of victory after what the two of you had just gone through. His feet stumbling over one another, he’s just on this side of consciousness when you finally make it within the safety of his ship. He melts into a crashing heap of beskar on the durasteel floor, and you finally let go of the disgusting weight of the dead Corellian, as you move quickly to shut yourselves inside, engaging the security system and motion sensors, lest someone else decide to catch the two of you unawares. Spinning quickly back towards him to start ripping the beskar plates off his chest to get to his injury. You quickly realize that the armor is held together by complex magnetics hidden beneath each piece and swiftly disengage those over his chest and abdomen. He’s got on a thickly woven underweave beneath the underplates, and you make quick work of unfastening the closures on that, as well, but when you’ve reached the last layer of his clothing, a thin, dark undershirt, you pause. The material is warm and soft and worn, something you’re sure he must don all the time and meticulously maintain and care for, like all the other pieces of the intricate uniform of his Creed. A Creed which you’re not certain you’d be breaking by looking upon the uncovered skin of his chest and abdomen. But he’s dying, you think, and you have to save him, and you can feel the physical and intangible manifestations of that slow crawl towards death in the spill of his hot blood on your hands, slowly drooling onto the metal floor, as well as the slow seep of his life force out into the ether. He’s dying, and you have to save him.

You push the last layer, keeping him covered from your eyes, up his chest. The blaster wound is a ragged mess of blood and charred flesh, to his right flank. The trajectory positioned high in the upper quadrant of his abdomen so that you’re fairly certain it must have nicked his liver. You probe gently at the wound inside with a tendril of the Force, and your panic ricochets up to a shrill crescendo within you – yes, he’s hit badly, a laceration to the uppermost corner of the organ. You move to stand quickly, sweating and stumbling in your panic towards the compartments along the walls of the hull, ripping open drawers and cabinets until you come across his med kit. There are bacta injections, hard to come by, but of course he’s well supplied – you can only imagine the collection of injuries he must have gathered throughout his travels, and patches inside, and you return to kneel at his side, knees cracking painfully against the cold, hard floor as you fall next to him. Hands shaking, vision slightly blurry, you pop the cap off of the syringe, and try and take deep steadying breaths as you pull down the neck of his shirt to get at the uppermost part of his shoulder. When you press the aggressive looking needle into his skin he jerks, and the sound of the helmet rolling against the floor has your eyes shooting up to his face, “It’s okay,” you try and soothe. “You’re going to be okay. I’m going to fix this.” You press down on the plunger slowly, watching the bacta slowly make its way from the glass barrel into his arm. He gives a low groan of pain as the thick substance enters his muscle. Please, please, work. Please, you have to be okay. You pause for a second once the injection is done, watching the shallow, quick hiccups of his breath, the rapid dip of his abdomen, as if he’s struggling to continue the act, in pain. Fuck. You rip open one of the bacta patches and carefully place it over the gaping wound, reaching for two more after that to make sure the entire large circumference of the hole in his side is covered, and then go still. His breathing is still rapid and shallow, almost gasping, and you take in, for the first time, the entire vision of his naked chest and abdomen. Thick, strong waist, tapering down into slim hips, smeared in the dark vermillion of his blood, you watch the shifting of his abdominal muscles beneath his smooth, golden brown skin. You’d pushed his shirt high up on his chest, but you grip the edge to pull it down a little lower, making sure he’s only as uncovered as necessary. You’re not entirely sure how quickly the bacta should work – why isn’t he waking up, why isn’t he saying anything, why isn’t his breathing normalizing?

“Mandalorian,” you whisper, and the helmet shifts the tiniest bit towards the sound of your voice, the fingers of his left hand twitch and curl inwards. You place your other hand low on his belly, the edge of his shirt still gripped in your hand and scoot closer to him, your bent knees pressed into his hip. “Please–” you whisper and you realize your cheeks are wet, tears making a slow stream down your face. Your voice breaks, “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you know that this is your fault. You distracted him, led him on that ridiculous chase. He’d have captured his bounty and been safely on his way if it weren’t for you. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.” Not again, please, I can’t have done this again. You let your head hang forward, your torso bending slightly so that your forehead is pressed into his hip as you let your desperate and pathetically terrified tears fall. This is your fault. One more terrible thing come at your hands.

If you could only – don’t even think it, you do not possess the capacity for that sort of goodness – but the hopeless thought worms its way into your mind anyway, if you could only heal him with the Force. But you’d never possessed that sort of ability, only the strongest of Force users could wield their power for healing, and despite the fact that you can still feel the deep well of your power churning in your veins right now, after your brutal display on the streets of Corellia, you know that such a thing is beyond your capability. Such an act only possible to those with great aptitude for light wielding or those dark siders who were willing to pay a great and terrible price, that of stealing vitality from another being to enact such a power.

And you hate yourself more in this moment than all the others. You wish desperately, painfully that you could be a different sort of person, a different sort of monster. That you could be good. That you possessed the ability to do good with this Force that roils through your veins, and that should have helped you, but had only ever truly hurt you.

What is the point of this great power within you, you think, if you cannot wield it in this most necessary of moments? In this instance when, more than any other, you wish you had the strength of the Force to heal him. With your head still pressed to his hip and your hands still on his chest and belly you open your eyes to watch your tears roll over his tan skin. I’m sorry, you think again, I wish you had never come across me. You watch the slow journey of your tears as they slide across his hip and drip silently down onto the floor of the hull, mixing with the dark crimson of his spilled blood.

You’ve never been one for much faith in any sort of higher power, too many times in your life when you’d wished for something greater than you to come and save you gone unanswered, but you pray to the Maker in this moment that the Mandalorian survive this, please, please, he is good, please, let him survive this. Your eyes flutter closed, you feel the sweep of your lashes against his warm skin, and you pray to the Force and the Maker and any other entity out there in the vast, unending galaxy that a creature such as this, one who is strong and valiant and good, not be felled by an association with the likes of you. And as you think, please, just this one thing, just this one time, I’ll never ask for anything else ever again if you only save him now, you feel that space deep within you, where the very nectar of the Force lives in your soul, shift and churn, and it is as if one of the very building blocks of the core material that makes you what you are, slides out of that place and slots itself into him. Plugging away at the gaping, life threatening wound and mending his torn flesh and healing that which had been savaged. You feel the very fibers of him stitch themselves back together at that outpouring of yourself into his own body, and he has a piece of you now, even if he is unaware, even if, perhaps, he would not want it, you’ve given yourself to him in a way you’ve not ever done with anyone else before. Slotted yourself within him and plugged his wound away to heal him.

You feel your body sag into his, all strength suddenly leaving you, but you force your muscles into movement and push yourself up off of him so that you can look up at his helmet covered face. His breathing suddenly stutters, and you freeze, your heart screaming in panic, but then he takes one long, deep breath, the wings of his rib cage flaring wide, and the rhythm returns to a slow, measured cadence. You take in the expanse of his strong abdomen, muscled, but also slightly soft around his belly button, the tantalizing trail of hair that disappears into his trousers. There are old scars and rough patches of poorly mended skin scattered across him, but his skin is also still soft and smooth and warm. His body is a weapon all on its own, battle hardened and made strong and resilient out of a necessity for survival, and beautiful. Above all else, he is beautiful. His long limbs are splayed wide on the durasteel floor. His cape is tangled around his throat and shoulders, and you move to pull the trapped folds from around his neck, giving him more freedom to breathe deeply. You tug the fabric down to spread out at his side so that you can lay on top of it. Your head is spinning now, your heart beating so fast you feel the rebounding rush of your blood in your eardrums. You’ve overexerted yourself, drawn too much power too quickly. Head spinning, vision going slightly dark at the edges, you feel a sharp, piercing pain behind your left eye, and your arms give out as you let yourself curl into a ball at his side, tucked into the crook of his underarm beneath his splayed limb. Right before you lose consciousness, you remember to pull his shirt down the rest of the way. He should be covered when he awakens, you don’t want him to worry that you’d violated him in any way, looked at his face or seen more of him than was absolutely necessary. He should feel reassured. You do not want him to be worried or afraid.

When consciousness finally winks away, like a singular dying star in the vastness of space, your fingers are still twisted in his shirt over his belly.

Chapter III

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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Aita for lieing to my mom for 6 years about a guy I dated?

🤐🇮🇪 <- so I notice me. This sounds bad but all things considered, i think I'm justified at least.

Tw for domestic abuse, physical abuse, fighting and non-explicit mentions of many other forms of abuse.

So in 7th grade grade I (12/13f at the time) was dating a guy named Jay(13/14m at the time)(not his real name and we were in the same grade) for about three months. I had a crush on him for years before we dated so I was ecstatic when he finally asked me out. Looking back now at 22, I can see he pitied me as i was very unpopular and no one wanted to be around me due to the fact I was very nerdy and very autisitc(I have a mental disability). He used me for sexual things and it wasn't super healthy but I was just happy to be getting attention as neither my school nor home life was safe from abuse/bullying.

Towards the end of those three months, an incident occured. Me and Jay were working on a mutural computer lab project that should of only tooken a week but the day we were set to start, jay had iss (in-school suspension. I don't know why). I needed his choice for a song because the project couldn't start without choosing it and he wasn't texting me and was being petty and whiny about it. Finally he picked some pop 2010s song and I got started. He was in the suspension for half the week so I was the one who did a majority of the project.

When he finally came back, he was being demanding and a jerk and I said fine, I'll do my own project and you can do yours, I wanted to do firework by katy perry anyway. He then demanded my part of the project since I wasn't doing that song anymore and I told him no and when he demanded it again, I deleted it infornt of him. Typical preteen arguments right? Well he slapped me. In front of all of his laughing friends. He'd never done that before and even though I had previous experience with physical abuse(a few instances with my dad but my mom didn't see it till much later after this incident. This is important.), never from a partner.

I don't remember too much as I saw red and reacted before I could think but I do remember ripping him out of his chair, throwing him on the floor and punching him in the chest and face a few times while his friends cheered me on in surprise. I was an average height but underweight and he was both taller than me and almost 300 lbs but it felt so easy. Once I was done I got up, told the teacher I was doing it on my own, aced the project while he failed and none of my bullies ever tried to physically fight me again. I went from nerdy shy weird pushover girl to scary strong weird girl and I'm ok with that. He hit first.

Even though we eventually broke up, we made up and it was something we joked about together as i didn't realize how serious that was at the time. But my mom did realize how serious it was and tried to explain to me how bad that was, that I should never let a partner hit me and she never wanted to see me talking to him again. She was being responsible but I was 13 and riding off the excitement of showing a guy I liked what for that we dated again not a month after we broke up. Except this time I wasn't dating Jay Lastname, I was dating "Sean mcduffin" or at least that's what i called him around family and because my mom never saw or met jay, she didnt recognize sean.

Our second time around only lasted another three months before we broke up and we're friends all through the rest of our school years, never more, but my mom still called him Sean because we'll.. I told her that was Sean and I couldn't back out now. I'm gonna shift gears for a second so stick with me.

I had gone through two extremely abusive relationships back to back from one in sophomore year (sexual and emotional abuse) and one in senior year (sexual, physical, religious and emotional abuse) and my mom didn't learn until a year later after I graduated. After my mom learned about it and the extent of the abuse with my father, she helped me heal and eventually started asking questions about the relationships and my dad and I answered her as were the closest weve ever been. She off handedly compared the one in senior year to the incident with Jay and then said how happy i seemed with Sean right after made her relax and hope i wouldnt be in another abusive relationship and it hadn't hurt me too badly.

I then realized I had never explicitly told her Jay and Sean were the same person and I had lied to her when I said they weren't (she had suspicions but never proof and trusted me). So I told her they were the same person and she got this very defeated look on her face. I apologized as I realized that was kinda shitty of me because my mom was just trying to protect me but I can also see why a 13 yr old who grew up in parental abuse wouldn't nessesarily take domestic abuse seriously. She just signed and said she wishes I was honest and I shouldn't of lied about it because it was serious. I explained my side but we eventually just moved on to talk further into our initial topic and she's not brought it up since.

I can see where I was the little 13 yr old asshole but I can also see why I wouldn't of taken the lie as seriously as I should due to my history. He never hit or hurt me again and I never heard of him doing it again so I guess i desuaded him from a life of abuse. Idk. Was I the asshole? Me and him don't talk anymore and since getting therapy, I've realized what a shitty person he was to me before, during and after our small relationship.

(small context: we were school friends only, he never really came over to my house or met my family more than once the second time we dated and I didn't talk about him as much after the second break up due to my focus on friends shifting from school friends to my girl scout troop. We were inseparable in school but outside of it, we rarely spoke.)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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antiodote · 2 years

Text

she can't finish and they fight - part III

warnings: drug/alcohol abuse, mention of purging, slight mentions of sexual activity (but not really)

"fuck you, harry."

part I & II

+++

she had slept in her car that night.

more specifically, she had parked in her gym’s parking lot and fell asleep in her car. her idea? get to the gym at 6 in the morning, run for an hour straight at an ungodly speed that might make her sick, shower and scrub her body so thoroughly that it hurt, get ready in the bathroom of said gym and arrive at work bright and early as if nothing ever happened. she even thought about getting some iced coffee on the way. you know, as a treat.

she also felt numb. so, so numb.

after she had left home - no, harry’s place - she wondered if all of it was a nightmare. some sort of hallucination that manifested itself into her brain after 6 weeks of straight malnourishment and sleep deprivation. never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that he would ever speak to her in that way or do something like that to her; question her trust like that. she asked herself if she even knew who he was or if the last four years had been a lie, but somewhere between taking an impossibly hot shower and slapping tons of concealer under her eyes in an attempt to cover her dark circles, she had decided to not think about it for as long as she possibly could. she just wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t talk to anyone about it and she definitely, definitely, definitely wasn’t going to face him anytime soon.

and so, she arrived at work at 8:54 am, ready to get some work done and pretend that everything was as it should be. fortunately for her, it seemed to work out - for most of the day, that is.

she had greeted some co-workers, wrote down a list of to-do’s for the day, checked off those to-do’s one by one, had some coffee, ate some lettuce wraps for lunch and threw up said lettuce wraps, returned to drinking coffee and nothing but. with a few meetings here and there, some office gossip and a pile of work later, her work day was finished. she found herself wishing that she could be stuck in that loop for the rest of her life - or at least for another few hours - so she could escape the reality of things for just a tiny bit longer. things don’t seem to go to plan for her lately.

“you’re leaving early? is it christmas already?”

she turned around to find tony, one of her coworkers, looking at her with an expression that indicated humour. she wasn’t really up for humour right now, but she also didn’t want to seem any more off than she probably already did. so, she forced a chuckle and answered.

“well, technically, I’m not leaving early. I just finished my work on time and don’t really feel like staying longer today, honestly.”

“so compared to your usual hours, you’re still leaving early.”

she looked at him with a frozen smile that didn’t reach her eyes. she hated when people - no, men - repeated her exact words back to her as if she were stupid. she hated it with a passion. harry never spoke to her like that. she should tell him all about it once she gets home, she thought.

as she realised that she couldn’t do that, she quickly turned away from tony to resume packing her bag.

“I suppose you’re right, tony. what can I do for you?”

he hoped her tone indicated her lack of interest in their conversation. she truly desired nothing more than to get out of this office and figure out her plan for the next few days.

“some of us wanted to get some drinks at this bar down the street. you know, the one that does trivia on wednesday nights? would you like to join us? you can tell your boyfriend to come!”

every single part of those sentences made her feel woozy. the idea of having drinks with her coworkers was absolutely atrocious; she couldn’t physically think of something that she would’ve liked to do less at that moment. however, the mention of him made her suddenly want something to drown out her thoughts with. she usually never resorted to alcohol, but the burn of some heavy liquor in her throat would for sure help her out, at least for now. she needed to feel something. so, without giving it much more thought, she turned around, smiled, and almost robotically replied.

“sure, I’d love to come. thanks for the invite! I’ll ask if he can make it.”

+++

8pm arrived and y/n was piss drunk.

when they arrived at the bar her coworkers ordered a round of different dishes for the table while she immediately went for the drinks. beer wasn’t her favourite, so vodka would suffice. one drink turned into two, two turned into four and before she realised, she found herself 7 drinks deep into her own abyssal torment. none of her coworkers seemed to notice, either because they lacked interest or she was too good at hiding her intoxication. she barely spoke at the table, anyway.

“so, y/n! where is that lovely boyfriend of yours? we haven’t seen him since last year’s christmas party. he was fun!” one of her older coworkers, maude, chirped.

y/n looked up from her drink, slightly disoriented at first. she kept forgetting that the outside world wasn’t aware of how her life crumbled into pieces at her feet.

act normal. act normal. act normal.

“oh, he’s been pretty busy. you know, with his music and stuff. I’m sorry he couldn’t make it tonight.” she replied. funny how she didn’t even know where he was, right now.

“oh, that’s a shame. make sure to bring him around again soon! he did a whole coffee run when he visited you last time. even paid for my extra pumps of hazelnut syrup, the ol’ charmer.” maude giggled. y/n forgot how older ladies seemed to adore him. then again, everyone did.

she also did.

in an attempt to seem flattered, she shook her head with a smile on her face. she couldn’t possibly have any of them suspect anything. the last thing she needed was to be the subject of infuriating office chitchat. luckily, she found it quite easy to keep up fake conversation and with that, fake emotion. she truly didn’t care for the people she worked with. a job was a job, nothing more. sure, she loved what she did, but it didn’t change the fact that her job wasn’t her life, or at least, shouldn’t be. she barely cared about her boss, but she did care about the money. a lot.

for all she cared, she was going to keep up the lie for as long as she had to, and she was fine with that. but maybe, just maybe, it gave her an excuse to pretend that everything was still okay between her and harry. she might as well treat her workplace as an alternate reality; a parallel universe where she could still go home to her lover and had never been kicked out of her own home. a home she helped to build with all the love she possessed in her heart.

oh, what a waste of love, she thought.

“y/n, are you still with us?”

“huh? what?”

people laughed. her eyebrows furrowed. she glanced around. she was confused. she felt embarrassed.

“oh, darling, maybe cut back on those drinks you’ve been chugging! I mean, I know you’re a heavyweight and it’s the weekend, but you just totally spaced out on us!“ lena - a younger coworker of hers - said, giggling her way through her remark.

“oh god, sorry. it’s been a long week, you know how it is.” she tried to go along with the joke, while truthfully feeling mortified for letting her guard down. “what were you saying?”

she honestly couldn’t care less.

“oh, we were just talking about potentially making this a regular thing! you know, to strengthen team morale and all.”

she smiled. there was no way in hell.

“sure! sounds fun.”

they nodded in agreement, believing her made-up enthusiasm. maybe she should’ve gone to acting school with how believable her act was. or they might just not care about her, just like she doesn’t care about them. they definitely didn’t care enough to ask.

the question was: who did care about her?

her coworkers don’t seem to do so. she’d barely seen any of her friends for a long while now. she hadn’t spoken to her family in what felt like forever.

she always thought that harry cared.

harry. oh, harry.

harry. harry. harry.

she suddenly rose up from her seat, pulling everyone’s eyes in her direction.

“I’m gonna use the restroom.”

and gone she was.

her heart was beating unbelievably fast. she wasn’t feeling good, at all. maybe the alcohol did take a toll on her.

without checking her surroundings, she almost bolted to the restroom. as soon as she entered, she picked one of the empty stalls and found purchase on the sticky floor, almost dramatically sliding down along the closed door. she needed to breathe. her head hung low between her bent knees, her hands clasping around her ears. with her eyes screwed shut and her hearing now impacted, she was now robbed of most of her senses, grounding her somewhat. ‘please, please, please’ was chanted in her head like a mantra; she couldn’t lose her composure like this, anything else was not as important at this moment.

“everything okay in there? should I get someone?”

her head shot up. fuck.

her breathing must’ve been heavy or maybe the words she repeated weren’t as quiet as she thought. she wasn’t sure who was behind the door, but she wasn’t strong enough to face them.

“uh, I’m okay! thanks for asking.”

silence.

“y/n? is that you?”

wait, what? she knew that voice.

she got up to open the door and was suddenly faced with a very familiar face.

“jane?”

+++

harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt so hollow. with every moment that passed, he felt more and more like he was drowning. like he was making a terrible, terrible mistake.

the last thing she had said to him before she went to pack a bag was ‘fuck you, harry.’ and truthfully, at first, he was angry. angry at how they argued, angry at her for leaving, angry at himself for not asking her to stay. it was a little later though, right after the door slammed shut behind her that he realised he couldn’t have asked her to stay when he was the one who told her to leave.

and then it dawned on him. he told her to leave. he kicked her out. in the middle of the night. in a city where he himself had been robbed at knifepoint not too long ago.

the panic kicked in soon after.

so, he called. and called. and called.

but she never answered.

after the 30th call, her phone went straight to voicemail. that was when harry really started freaking out.

where did she go? was she safe? what if something happened? harry wouldn’t forgive himself if something were to have happened.

he bit and chewed on his fingers until they bled. he didn’t sleep. his mind and soul were surrounded by an image of her in danger. in pain. hurt.

though, he hurt her that night.

he was the one who put her in that situation. he hurt her. why the fuck did he do that? why the actual fuck did he do that?

when the panic passed, the self-loathing soon followed. he didn’t understand how things were so quick to turn around when they were more than okay a mere few weeks ago. he treated her like she was disposable and he doesn’t think he will ever forgive himself for it.

when the hatred for himself outweighed the worry he had for her, he resorted to pills to find slumber that night. the sleep was terrible, but it was better than nothing.

he woke up the next morning, finding himself on his kitchen floor. he must’ve passed out then and there. he checked the clock just above the fridge. the time was 9:15 AM. if she was okay, she must be at work. he could go there to check on her, see if her car was there. but, then again, he felt like he was the last person she wanted around her at this moment. if she was even alive, that is.

his rationality came back to him somewhere after 11 in the morning, just after his shower. she was a strong and capable woman, she was probably fine. she had to be, or he was never going to be fine again.

he went back to the kitchen to fetch himself some water for his run. if there was one thing that helped him, it was running for miles and miles and miles ahead and drowning out his surroundings with music through his headphones. as he opened the fridge he was faced with a bowl that was filled with cubes of fruit. the bowl was shaped like a lemon and had the colour to go with it. he remembers how y/n had picked it out online, gushing over how cute and fitting it is.

‘you always sing about fruit! might as well have a lemon-shaped bowl, if you ask me.’

he remembers how he had chuckled in response, pulled her in for a kiss on her temple, and replied ‘whatever you want, love.’

why do those days feel so far away now?

he looked all around the kitchen and observed how every nook and cranny of this house had pieces of her littered all over it. the kitchen clock; a soft yellow one with slender, roman numbering on it - she chose it. the light pink cabinets - she painted them. actually, they painted them together and made sweet love on that very floor when they were finished. every piece of decoration - she had collected them whenever they had travelled. he particularly took notice of a framed picture right next to the sink. a moment captured when they made fresh pasta at his mother’s house when they were there for her birthday, two years ago. he remembered the moment so, so vividly.

‘harry, for goodness’ sake! you’re making a mess!’

she was the one who rolled out the dough by hand, since harry had previously dropped the pasta maker on the floor, resulting in its break. feeling a little useless, he wanted to do whatever he could to make her laugh. so, he did what any child would do: poured flour over them. first, her nose. then, her cheeks. shortly after, her head. and when she was sick of him, she grabbed the packet from his grasp and poured every last bit over him. her glimmering eyes looked straight at his playful ones. she bit her lips, in order to deny him the satisfaction of a laugh, and he looked just about ready to burst at the seams.

in that moment, his sister quietly took a picture, making sure to get it back to them for one of their birthdays. when she was done, she clapped her hands to gain their attention, and suddenly they stood there like deers caught in headlights.

then, laughter erupted. loud, hearty, full laughter.

harry had to physically shake his head to lose the memory. when a sudden sickness overcame him, he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach right into said sink. was this kind of behaviour normal after a breakup? he didn’t know.

breakup. breakup. breakup.

the word swam around his vision, making him want to gauge his own eyes out. were they broken up, now? could she ever forgive him? then again, could he forgive her for lying to him? his mind was swarmed with all sorts of questions that he had no way of finding an answer to, at least not anytime soon.

he needed to go on that run.

so, he did. and ever so conveniently, he ran by her workplace. low and behold, her car was there, unscathed. relief flooded him, but so did dread. because if she was at work, that meant she was fine. which also meant that she didn’t pick up his calls on purpose. she didn’t want to talk to him.

good. maybe they shouldn’t talk for a while. whatever.

he ran back home and didn’t leave the house for the remaining day.

+++

jane was y/n’s lifelong friend. they went to high school together and were usually inseparable. however, with both of their schedules being as crazy as they were, they rarely saw each other these days. when jane saw the state of her in that bathroom stall, she paid for her tab and drove her home. y/n didn’t say much in that time, still in a state of sensory overload. it was only when she saw how they were approaching harry’s driveway that she spoke.

“we can’t go there.”

jane whipped her head towards the passenger seat. “what do you mean, petal?”

y/n stared straight ahead. “we can’t go to harry’s place. can I stay with you tonight? I’ll explain everything.”

jane looked at her for a few beats longer, worry etched deep into her features, until she turned her car around and drove to her own apartment. just over 30 minutes later, they arrived.

y/n soon realised how drunk she truly was, especially when the glare of the white lightbulbs in jane’s bathroom made her head throb and her guts churn. she ended up leaning above the toilet bowl in an attempt to empty the contents of her stomach, however, her attempt was in vain; nothing left her stomach. and yet, she felt so empty.

she wished that she had shouted at harry, maybe even slap him across his annoyingly pretty face. she wished she had done something to stop him from doing what he did. but alas, just like nothing left her now, nothing left her then. she was always so perfectly contained. harry had even told her on multiple occasions that she needed to let loose, even if it was just a little bit. he was good at helping her with that. she always felt so unbothered and carefree in his presence.

oh, harry. what have you done?

“god, harry. you fucking idiot.”

the first sob of the night left her. then came the second. the third quickly followed. all of a sudden, she found herself crying in agony over her best friend’s toilet.

“y/n, you okay?? can I come in?” jane called from the other side of the door, but y/n didn’t hear. the echo of her cries within the toilet bowl was too loud for her to be aware of her surroundings. thus, a very worried-looking jane came bursting through the door. as she found y/n in literal shambles across the bathroom floor, she couldn’t help but choke up herself. she’d never seen her like this, and it truly broke her heart.

“hey, hey pretty girl, it’s alright. I’m here, good god, I’m here. let it all out.”

jane ended up cradling y/n, almost like you would calm a crying baby, and y/n didn’t realise how much she truly needed it. however, she still didn’t dare to speak. she feared that, once she recalled the events out loud, they would become reality. she wasn’t ready for that to happen, not yet. maybe not ever, but definitely not now.

so she cried and cried and cried until there was nothing left to give. jane and her wordlessly went to bed that night, bundled up in blankets to keep out the cold.

y/n feared she might never feel normal again, if she even knew what that was. she felt like harry completed her, and that scared her to death.

when she woke up the next day, she finally threw up. with the vodka finally out of her system and her stomach basically cleansed, she felt a lot better than she thought she would. the headache was manageable and the nausea came and went. she could survive this.

she didn’t know about the rest of her circumstances, though.

whenever the thought of him popped into her head, she did whatever she could to distract herself. first thing in the morning? she showered after her journey to the toilet bowl. after the shower? extensive skincare. when she saw her tired expression in the mirror? left the bathroom to borrow some of jane’s clothes. eventually, she had run out of distractions in the bedroom, so she escaped to the kitchen. when she started preparing breakfast and turned up the radio just a touch, she was reminded of him, again. soon enough, she realised that everything reminded her of him, and there was nothing she could do about it. would be too easy, right?

for the first time in a while, she felt vulnerable. raw. like there was no skin over her pain and a gust of wind could make it bleed.

the realisation knocked the air out of her for just a moment, but it was enough for her to turn the stove off and sit down. she felt as if she had just run up the stairs, in fear that somebody was chasing her. she felt out of breath, disoriented and weirded out. maybe she should go to that doctor to talk about her anxiety, harry had always-

“hey, you! making some breakfast? how kind.” jane chimed, bright and chipper, ripping y/n out of her thoughts. she caught her gaze, offering a smile. “oh, I was just up early today. the eggs are probably burnt, though. just a heads up.”

jane nodded and went straight to her bag of toaster waffles and popped one of them into her mouth. a quick turn later, she faced y/n with an apologetic expression. as much as she wanted to grant y/n her bit of privacy, she needed to know what happened. before jane could open her mouth, y/n spoke. she spoke and spoke and spoke, retelling the whole thing, from the moment she felt overwhelmed at work, right up to the point where harry kicked her out. this was the second day she wasn’t at his place, refusing to refer to it as ‘home’, and everything still felt awfully unreal. jane listened and listened until she snapped.

“hold on, what? you slept in your damn car? why didn’t you call me? y/n, that was so unsafe, dear god!”

she was pacing up and down her lengthy kitchen, trying to wrap her head around how her best friend’s picture-perfect relationship went to shit without anybody else noticing.

“I know, jane, I know, but I wasn’t really thinking and I didn’t want to bother anyone. the two of us have barely spoken lately, and-“

“as if that matters! y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? my ride or die. it doesn’t matter if I see you once a week or once a year, I am the person you tell these things to, okay? I’m the person you ask for help!”

y/n didn’t answer, shame clouding her senses. instead, her gaze turned downwards and she started picking her nails.

“you’re staying with me until we figure this out, okay? I don’t want to hear shit.”

when y/n didn’t answer, jane physically forced her to look at her by nudging her hand under her chin and gently dragging it upwards. “got it, petal?”

y/n nodded.

“wonderful! oh, and if I see harry, just know I’m gonna beat the shit out of him. lord knows he deserved it-“

“you will not, okay?”

jane looked at y/n as if she had grown a third head. confusedly, she goes: “wait, are you planning to forgive him, or something?”

y/n became frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, okay? I just don’t know. I can’t face him for a bit, but I can’t tell you what’ll happen afterwards. please don’t hurt him, I know that you actually would.”

jane listened, processed, and nodded. she didn’t want to cause her any more emotional turmoil.

“okay, dude. whatever you say. now, let’s plan this sleepover of ours!”

+++

it’d been seven days since harry had last seen her. with every day that had passed, his emotions spiralled.

his first phase: hatred.

he hated her. he hated her boss, her work, her mindset. he hated all of the things he could blame for their fallout, thus also hating himself. he hated himself so much that he couldn’t bare to look at himself. when he wasn’t excessively punching things in his at-home gym, he got high and broke stuff. he called her and spoke spiteful things onto her voicemail. he cried angry tears and listened to angry, devastating music.

the music triggered the second phase: sorrow.

he cried and cried and cried, especially to sad coldplay songs or the old records that his stepfather used to collect. the crying made him tired, so he slept a lot during this phase. though, as soon as he woke up, he’d be crying again.

when the crying stopped, the depression came.

heaviness shaped his form. his feet felt too heavy to lift, thus his bed became his permanent residence for a bit. his mind was hazy and everything he attempted to do sucked every last bit of energy out of him, resulting in a permanent state of exhaustion.

his empty bed triggered his longest phase: loneliness.

he missed her. so fucking much.

he missed her smell. her peaceful, sleeping state. he missed how she would always have to collect individual hairs off of their covers because her hair just shed in heaps during her slumber. he missed how she’d look up at him when the first few moments of consciousness kissed her in the morning. he missed how he could lay his head on her soft chest and listen to her steady heartbeat. he missed how she would sometimes lovingly grab him by the jaw and pull him down to kiss his forehead. he missed how she used to make him coffee in the morning and he’d eat her out on the kitchen table to say thank you. he missed her body, every mark and every freckle. he missed her voice and wished he’d recorded it at some point. he missed the way she’d hug him from every angle. he missed how she could talk to him for hours about anything. he missed making love to her.

he missed being able to love her.

he feared that she was gone now. far, far away from his reach. he had to make peace with it, though. right?

thus he welcomed his current phase: apathy.

he didn’t care anymore; he wasn’t going to get her back. he’d fucked up too bad, so he resorted to resenting her for her mistakes. the negative emotions that were previously directed towards him only were now evenly distributed amongst her, him, their situation and the world. he didn’t want to talk to anyone, reach out to anyone, or even acknowledge his feelings in any way. as he cleaned up his house from the shards and pieces of the the things he had destroyed, he found a weird sense of serenity in the acceptance of his downfall. all was lost now, what else could go wrong?

then, his phone rang.

he checked. it was sarah.

he wasn’t going to pick up, but she’d called him a few times now. he didn’t want to worry her, so he finally picked up.

“hello?”

a sigh of relief left her.

“goodness, harry, where were you? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages! look, some things need to be picked up for the rehearsal dinner on tuesday. could you maybe handle it? I wouldn’t ask you but mitch and I have been super busy with everything else. pleeaasee?”

harry’s brows furrowed. rehearsal dinner?

then, he remembered. the fucking wedding.

mitch and sarah had been officially married for over a year, yet they never had a proper celebration due to obvious restrictions. and honestly, he’d completely forgotten about it within the last few days. a wedding for his best friends, which she was also supposed to attend. how on earth could he make this right?

“oh! and tell y/n to call me back, please! I’ve been meaning to talk to her about the dresses for the bridesmaids, but her phone is dead or something.”

without missing a beat, harry replied. “yeah, sure. I’ll tell her. also, send me what you need picked up and I’ll get it to you.”

if there was one thing harry and y/n had in common, it was this: they would always put other people’s needs above their own, especially if it concerned their loved ones. there was no way in hell he would make one of his best friends worry about him when her wedding was just around the corner. he’ll pretend if he had to. but he was not going to fuck this up for them.

“oh, you’re an angel! I’ll send you all the details, thank you! I have to go now but give y/n a kiss from me, please. love you! see you later! bye!”

the phone beeped until inevitable silence.

right, so he had to hope that y/n would attend the wedding. no, he had to be sure that she would be there. not only that; he had to hope that she would agree to act normal around their friends, for now.

harry needed to find a way to reach her. he might’ve fucked up his own relationship, but he was not going to spoil his friend’s wedding.

wonderful. what could go wrong? except for absolutely everything?

+++

5.1k, not proofread (whoops), lowercase intended

PART THREE IS HERE HELLOOOOO

thank you for your patience !! i know it’s been a long time coming. parts of this were kind of hard to write for me, so excuse any ill worded sentences, please <3

i hope you enjoy this one! as always, all the love xx

-ve !!

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #i was feeling very down while writing this and i hope it shows <3 #antiodote #he's writing!#harry styles smut #harry styles soft

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crucifiedramblings · 2 months

Text

Fool Me Once — Dr. Gregory House x F!Reader (Part I)

Hello! This is my first Gregory House fic, I've been truly obsessed with this old man recently. No warnings for this chapter (edit: mention of pill abuse), but I will list full work warnings below.

Word Count: 789

Content Warnings: Angst, implied/referenced drug use & addiction, eventual smut, swearing, graphic depictions of medical gore

Next Part: N/A

The pills hadn’t been in House’s system for a few days— he would have to rebuild his Vicodin tolerance again. Nothing like a “V-Break” to get the same hazy punch as before— the name could use some work, though. House lazily looked at you through heavily-lidded eyes, his head dipping to the side to look at his own vitals on the small monitor to the right of his bedside.

You had only been on House’s diagnostic team for a few days when he collapsed in the middle of a briefing. His toxicity screen showed a spike in narcotic levels, and you flushed his system while he was out. He argued that it was doing more harm than good, but you replaced the chemical with comfort medications until he had clean blood. Once it ran clear, and he was no longer dying— you practically spoon-fed his Vicodin right to him.

Maybe it was the sympathy— no, empathy— of being a former addict. Maybe it was the fact that you hated seeing House detoxing. Maybe it was because you knew how sick he must have felt. Whatever it was— it triumphed over any nobility you held as a doctor as you placed three white pills into House’s shaking hands with a reassuring smile.

House looked at you with an almost frazzled gaze, dry-swallowing the pills as if you were going to snatch them away if he took too long. You sat on a stool by House’s side, holding a small styrofoam cup’s straw to his lips. He gratefully sipped, a soft whistling coming from the lid as House greedily gulped down the frigid water. He gave you a nod, as if to say ‘thank you’ without the words ever leaving his mouth. You only nodded in response.

House asked for your name, a raspy request given between sips and wheezes. You gave it to him, although skeptical he didn’t know the name of the newest hire on his team— House was a very thorough man in his decisions. He gave you a lazy grin, giggling to himself and eventually drifting off. At least the pills did what you hoped, giving House some much-needed rest. He looked so much more peaceful like that— no longer sporting a leaping forehead vein, teeth no longer bared— he looked at ease. Like he wasn’t in any pain.

After several torturous hours— the ones that bled into days, which crashed down into weeks— House was cleared to return to work . . . although he technically never left, and was sure to remind everyone of such knowledge. He walked circles around his bed with a newfound vigor, having just replenished his fix for the morning. House’s limp was barely noticeable when he first dosed, and you were consistent in tracking how his decreased mobility affected his mood by the end of the day.

The truth was, you were used to House— but you were not accustomed to sober House— the version of himself that he hid away until he could take time off work. The persona that House barely allowed to see the light of day if unnecessary. The facade that reminded House too much of his father in a certain light.

You didn’t blame him— you used to be the same way— although he didn’t know that much from your file. He treated you like some brown-nosing geek, saving his life to look good in front of the new boss. House didn’t understand why someone would fight so hard to save him, and then hand him the pills that almost killed him in the same breath. You didn’t quite understand it either— maybe it was the words Wilson muttered by House’s bedside when he was still in a perpetual coma.

“I can’t lose you yet— fight it.”

Maybe it was the pang of hurt you felt at the sight of him when he awoke— dripping with sweat, pale, scratching at his own intravenous drip to make himself feel something other than the pounding of his head and the bile in his belly. Whatever it was— the semblance spoke to you well enough to place his own killer into his discolored palms.

It was worth it, the way House’s gaze lit up— he angled his head to the ceiling tiles and hastily, shakily swallowed the pills without any consideration. You almost took pity on him— that was, until he commented on your bust in your top. You smacked him with his own file, grateful to have the version of House you had come to know up and running again— regardless of how annoying that version may be. Your help remained unspoken, but in the following weeks, some distant glances and singled-out tasks would bring any tension to a head.

#gregory house #gregory house x reader #slow burn #house md

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bakuhoes-bxtch · 1 year

Text

Warden!Sukuna x Inmate!Reader

Warnings: suicide mentioned (wasnt done), degrading, throat fucking, face slapping, and spitting (ONCE)

wc: 773

Notes: probs pt 1

Lets start off with the basics

You were in jail for something petty…almost

Petty being attempted murder

It didn’t matter, you acted out of self defense but everything was just against you that day

The jury was split and jail was bestowed upon you by some scrawny man who didn’t like how you glared at the man you almost killed…pussy

Jail was hell. It was smelly and 100% not your cup of tea

Fights every other hour, one pair of underwear, less than 10 minutes in a shower, it was everything you didn’t want or need in life

The only thing keeping you going was the warden

Suicide was an option during your first 2 weeks but the wardens visit is what deterred you away from any thoughts

He was tall, had pink hair, gorgeous tattoos, and just mouth watering to put it plain and simple

Basically almost every females wet dream

“Alright ladies you know what time it is,” His booming voice echoed through the cell block

This happened every 2 weeks, the warden checking your cell

Sukuna’s power in general was feared

The amount of power he radiated was overwhelming to say the least

You always found yourself with problems

Girls starting fights with you, hiding contraband in your room the whole 9 yards

You weren’t top in your cell block, however, you could very well easily take that spot

This time you were in the clear (or so you thought) you luckily haven't had a cellmate in a few months

“Congratulations y/n, nothing this time,” Sukuna whispered in your ear. He smirked at your face and rubbed something in his pocket

Your heart instantly dropped to your ass

thanking whatever god that was above. he found something but wasn’t holding you accountable…yet

He finished his search and left, a few girls were taken to solitary confinement

Soon enough you did find yourself in a fight, not swinging first aided you for once and you both were instantly brought to Sukuna’s office

“Couldn’t even wait for me to be settled in could you two?”

Your eyes were set on the floor, the girl next to you already allowing her mouth to run

Sukuna ordered her out immediately, sending her to solitary confinement

You however remained silent completely missing the questions and directions you were given

“I said, who the fuck put a shiv in your fuckin’ room?”

You were stunned but kept quiet

The world had always been against you, and the deep timbre of his voice and the small bit of anger laced in it made your thighs clench shamefully

“You never learn do you”

Next thing you know you’re in solitary confinement, on your knees with your mouth wide open to accommodate Sukunas thick and lengthy cock

Your eyes were glassy and tears were streaming down your face while you let the warden abuse your tight throat

His thrusts were sharp, not allowing any air to come through your mouth or nose for that matter

“Fuck your throat’s the best,” he rasped. “Thats fuckin’ right suck my fuckin cock you slut.”

He pulled you back and grinned devilishly down at you. You followed his cock eager to have it abusing your throat once more only to hear him laugh and slap your face

“You’re a filthy cock drunk whore aren’t you,” Sukuna asked. You whined and opened your mouth.

“Please sir, use me, fuck…please,” you cried.

He wasted no time with picking you up and forcing your head over the edge of the bed, giving him leverage to see his cock bulge deep in your throat

He couldnt resist putting his hand on your throat and stroking it opposite of his thrusts making him groan out, “Fuck, yes. God fuckin’ damn, take my nut you nasty slut.” he hunched forward and jackhammered into your throat, his hand tight on your neck while his balls were slapping your nose giving you the delicious lightheaded feeling

Feeling his cock go deeper in your throat made his head spin, you gagged at the perfect time, practically ripping his orgasm from him, “fuckin’ take it. Good. Fucking. Girl.” he accentuated his final spurts of delicious cum with rough thrusts

He pulled himself out and grinned at the mess of saliva across your face

“Open.” you obeyed and opened your mouth, earning a glob of spit on which you swallowed “good girl.” with a slap to your cheek he tucked his cock into his work pants

“Bad girls get reprimanded, if i have to I’ll put you in here time and time again until you act straight, you got that?”

You nodded your head with a dumb smile and watched as he retreated from the room, a small pep in his step.

lol

part 2

#🍄s thirsty #warden!sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x black reader #sukuna ryomen x black reader #sukuna scenarios #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jjk imagines #jjk smut #jjk sukuna ryoumen #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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crazyunsexycool · 6 months

Text

Unbreakable

Chapter 5

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, nightmare, mentions of abuse, talks of implied sexual assault, Marvin being a good boy, Steve being his dreamy self (at least I think so),

A/N: These two are so cute together. 🥹

Series Masterlist

The compound was huge and mostly empty. You looked at it with awe as your taxi drove away. Marvin sat next to you but by the shuffling he was doing he wanted to explore. The glass walls only exposed the dark empty entrance but you didn’t dare just walk in. No, you’d stay just where you were until Steve came out. It apparently took a few minutes from wherever he was in the belly of the building but soon enough you saw his large silhouette through the glass.

“Hey.” He says with a smile once he opens the door. “How was the drive up? I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up but some briefings held me up.”

“It’s ok. The drive wasn’t bad but the taxi driver had horrible taste in music.”

He smiles as he grabs the gym bag you brought with you and holds the door open for you. It had been about a week since the first movie night. The next day he had been called out for a mission that lasted almost the full week. It didn’t help that there was also limited contact. But it did help you think about the relationship that was forming between the two of you. Was it just friendship or was there a hint of more? You wanted to say the latter but you were forcing yourself to not go there.

“Nat’s very excited to meet you.”

��Well I’m very excited to meet her too.”

Today was the first day of your training on self defense. It was exciting but nerve wracking.

“Would you like a tour first? I think Nat is finishing up on some paperwork.”

“Ok.” You looked up and smiled at Steve.

He led you through common rooms and the living quarters, empty labs, meeting rooms, the gun range and ended in the gym. The whole time the building was empty. Not a single soul other than you and Steve. And Marvin of course.

“This is where we do— did our training.”

“Every day?”

“Yeah, we would partner up with different team members to make sure we could handle different fighting styles. We would practice different combat tactics with everyone’s abilities.” There was fondness and regret mixed in his words. His eyes were distant as if he were reliving memories that happened right in this very room.

Across the room a door opens and in walks Nat. You maybe looked her up to see how intimidating she was and you were not disappointed. Marvin is practically vibrating next to you as Nat gets closer. There is an air of aloofness but her eyes betray her. She gives you a practiced smile as she stops before you.

“Nat this is Y/N, Y/N this is Nat.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I could say the same thing.”

Marvin nudges Nat’s thigh and huffs until he gets attention.

“And who is this handsome boy?”

“This is Marvin, he’s my service dog. You can pet him if you like.”

Nat goes on one knee and Marvin nudges her chest until she is scratching behind his ears. You look up at Steve who has a sad expression on his face. After another minute of Nat and Marvin getting to know each other she stands back up.

“So, Steve tells me you want to learn how to defend yourself.”

“Yes and I really appreciate both of you doing this. I know you’re probably really busy and it means a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s good to have a few moves under your belt. Now, do you have any fighting experience at all?”

“Does swinging a frying pan count?” You grimace.

“Did you hit the intended target?”

You nod as you remember the day of the snap.

“Then it does. I want to show you a few very basic moves and go from there. That way I can see what we need to work on. It will probably take a few lessons, I hope that’s ok?”

“Whatever you think works best. I am here to learn.”

“Good, Steve is going to be our training dummy. He was kind enough to volunteer.” Nat smiles genuinely this time and you smile back. “Ok so I’m going to show you one move and then you’ll do it. That way I can see where you are and where to go from there.”

You nod and move to sit at a bench Nat pointed to. With the help of Steve she starts showing you simple moves. Then you get up and practice the same moves over and over until you get them right. You’re beaming by the time the lesson is halfway through and you all take a break. It’s more for your sake than theirs. Steve takes Marvin for a walk and promises to bring back more water bottles. That leaves you and Nat alone and considering how thoughtful and careful she has been up to now, being under her scrutiny makes you cautious.

“He likes you, you know.” Nat finally breaks her silence. Her statement leaves you unsure of how to respond. “You don’t have to like him like that. Steve is respectful and won’t ever push you to do something you don’t want but thank you for just being there for him. I haven’t seen him smile like he used to in a long time.”

“H-how can you be sure it’s because of me? Maybe he just became my friend because of Marvin.”

“He is a cute dog.”

“The best boy.”

Nat cracks a grin and leans back, propping herself on her elbows. Before you can pick up the conversation you both hear something happening outside. The wind had picked up and there was something mechanical whirling until it stopped. Everything went completely still and you looked over at Nat to find that she wasn’t worried at all. About a minute later Steve walks back in with Marvin in tow and two strangers. A rather odd pairing. It was a raccoon and a blue lady. Marvin trots happily to his spot next to you but you feel on edge.

“Hey Romanoff.” The raccoon greets your new found friend.

“Rocket, Nebula. How was the flight?”

“It could have been worse.” The woman, Nebula you assumed, answered. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/N a friend.”

“Hi.” You squeak out with an awkward wave.

Black eyes bore into yours and you feel like she’s reading your thoughts and maybe she is. After a few awkward seconds she finally looks bored and moves on. Both Nebula and Rocket excuse themselves to go freshen up.

“So you guys work with a talking raccoon?”

They both nod as if a talking raccoon is the most normal thing in the world.

“I’m very disappointed you never told me you know a raccoon that can talk.”

“How exactly was I supposed to work that into a conversation?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Nat would have done it.”

“I really would have.”

Steve shakes his head but chuckles while you and Nat high five.

“I think we’re done for today.”

“I should get going.”

“Don’t. Stay and hang out with us.” Nat says. “You brought a change of clothes, right?”

You nod.

“Perfect, stay the night then. I’ll show you to one of the spare bedrooms.”

She didn’t give you a choice but you still looked at Steve. He only smiled and gave you a nod.

“I like her.” Nat said as she walked into the living room. “You two would be perfect together.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think she’s looking for a relationship.”

“Have you talked about it with her?”

“No but I'm sure that after whatever happened to her she’s looking to stay as far away from relationships as possible.”

“Well you won’t know until you talk about it. Don’t wait until it’s too late. I saw how you looked at each other.”

“Fine, when the time is right I’ll sit down and talk to her.”

“Talk to who?” Rocket walked in with Nebula following close behind.

“It’s nothing. How was your mission?”

Nebula and Rocket start telling them all of the details about their latest mission in deep space. They’re engrossed in the story so no one hears you walk toward the living room.

“And then bam.” Rocket says and then yelps when Marvin barks. He turned around with a gun in his hand and pointed in your direction.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me. Nothing scares me.”

“What about that time that we-“

“Nope, not scared.” Rocket cuts Nebula off and even though she doesn’t seem like the type of person that smiles the essence of a smile graces her lips for a second.

You smile as you take the open spot next to Steve on the couch and Marvin lays at your feet.

“How about a movie?” Nat grabs a remote from the coffee table and puts something on.

The night had been nice. Steve was glad that you’d stayed for an impromptu movie night. The longer he spent around you the more he could see a weight lift off your shoulders, a light come back to your eyes. It made him care for you more, to want and protect you from all the bad things that this world still had to offer. He laid in bed wondering if it would be too soon to ask you out on a proper date. Maybe he would talk about it with Nat first and get her opinion. Steve closed his eyes with the hope of getting some sleep before he drove you back to the city.

Marvin’s bark pulls Steve out of the state of drowsiness he found himself in. Were you trying to take him outside and got lost? Steve gets up and before he opens the door to his room a blood curdling scream rips through the air. His feet move faster than his brain as he runs down the hall. Nat is there with a gun in hand ready to attack whoever is hurting you. Another scream, there’s begging for someone to stop hurting you and Steve is ready to rip whoever it is into pieces.

“Friday, how many intruders are there?” Nat asks in a whisper.

“There are no intruders. Ms. Y/L/N seems to be having a nightmare.”

Nat looks up at Steve and quietly asks him what to do.

“You should go in first. I think she’ll feel safer with a woman.”

Nat nods and hands him her gun. She opens the door as you yell again. Marvin is on the bed trying to wake you up as you struggle against the bed sheets that are now wrapped around you.

“Y/N, you’re ok. You’re safe.” Nat calls out softly. “I need you to wake up for me. Y/N you’re safe. We aren’t going to let anyone hurt you.”

You wake up with a small gasp and tears rolling down your temples.

“Can I come closer?” Nat asks from the foot of the bed.

Through the soft moonlight filtered through the window she sees you nod. Nat moves around so that you can see her better.

“Can I untangle the bed sheets?”

You nod again and she makes quick work of it.

“Steve is right outside, would you like him in here with you or do you prefer that I stay?”

“Steve.” You whisper.

He couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him with the knowledge that you felt safe with him. Nat walks out and nods towards the room before telling him that she would make you some tea. Standing in the doorway with just the moon as a light source he can see your tear stained cheeks and the look of fear still in your eyes as you sit up against the headboard. Marvin drapes himself over your lap in order to provide you with comfort.

“What can I do for you Y/N?” Steve asks softly but you still startle at his voice.

“Um… I- Could you-“

“It’s ok, take your time.” Steve says as he watches you struggle to give him an answer.

“Sit with me.” You say after a moment.

“I can do that.”

Steve walks in and sits at the foot of the bed but for you that’s too far. You finally look up at him and he gives you a gentle, reassuring smile.

“Too far.” You mumble with a small pout.

“Where should I sit then?”

You answer by pulling back the covers and patting the spot next to you. Steve gets up and moves around the bed but doesn’t sit.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with me sitting here?”

“Yes.”

Steve nods and settles into the spot beside you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You look up at him just as Nat walks in with a cup of tea.

“This should help calm your nerves. If you need anything I’m just down the hallway.”

“Thanks Nat.” You say as you grab the mug and take a sip.

She smiles and walks out leaving you and Steve alone again. It’s alone for a few minutes.

“It was more like a memory than a nightmare.” You start. “He was pinning me down by pressing his knee on my chest and I couldn’t breathe. Then he was ripping off my clothes-“ you choked a sob and Steve took your hand in his.

Marvin lifted his head and licked away the tears. You pet his head until he settles back down and then you rest your head on Steve’s shoulder.

“I hate feeling like I’ll never be free of his hold.”

“I know you can’t see it right now but you’ve come a long way already.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” You huff.

“Tell me something, before when he was around how many times a week were you able to go out and hang out with friends? Maybe go have dinner or a girls night? Or go hang out at a friend’s house?”

“Never.”

“If we would have met before everyone blipped, would we have been able to be friends?”

“Absolutely not.” You shake your head. “He wouldn’t have allowed it.”

“Yet here you are. You went out to lunch with your friend the other day. We had a movie night at your place. We’ve gone to the dog park and you’re even having a sleepover.

So while you feel like he still has a hold on you, every time you do something he wouldn’t have liked you’re freeing yourself.”

You sat there and thought about what he said.

“He would have hated you.”

“I think I can live with that.” Steve squeezes your hand.

“Can I ask for a favor? You can say no.”

“Anything.”

“Could you stay here tonight?”

“If you’re sure then yes.”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright, let’s get comfortable.” He says and begins to shuffle around to lay back down.

The next morning Steve wakes up first. Marvin is huffing on his side of the bed wanting to be let out. Steve doesn’t want to move though because you’re comfortably asleep on his chest with his arm around you. He can’t help the smile he gets when he looks down at you sleeping soundly. He’ll make sure to commit this moment to memory so that he can draw it later.

“You’re really warm.” You say in a sleepy voice.

“Is that bad?”

“Absolutely not. It's the best, I’m always cold.”

“So you’re just using me for my body heat?”

You giggle and press yourself into him more. “Yes, I am.”

Marvin whines again and scratches at the door.

“I have to take him out.” You say as you start to get up.

“I’ll take him for a run. Stay in bed or go find Nat.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“I’m offering.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” Steve reluctantly gets up and takes Marvin with him while you lay back down. It’s the first time in years that you manage to have a smile on your face so early in the morning.

After having spent some more time with Nat and Nebula Steve drove you home.

“You should take him running more often. He’s never this calm.” You say while looking at Marvin in the back seat.

“Well I do run a lot. I probably tired him out.”

Steve stops his car right in front of your building and gets out to open your door for you. Even though it’s a short walk to your front door he walks beside you with your bag in his hand.

“I’m glad you came over yesterday. Hopefully we can do this again soon. Nat was already bugging me about bringing you back.”

“Nat’s great. We even made plans to go out sometime soon.”

“Well I’m very proud of you.”

Steve beams and you can’t help but return the smile.

“I’m proud of myself too. Thank you for everything Steve.” Unconsciously you throw your arms around his midsection and hug him right.

His arms wrap around you and you feel him kiss the top of your head. You can’t help but sigh at the comforting gesture.

“I’ll see you soon?” You ask hopefully.

“Of course, unless Nat decides to keep you for herself.”

“Never,” you shake your head. “I’ll always have time for you.”

“Good, I’ll make sure to use it all up then.”

You take your bag from him and unlock the front door. With a final wave goodbye you and Marvin head up to your apartment. It’s the first time in a very long time that you’ve felt the heavy weight of guilt and anger and regret get lighter. You can’t help but think that Steve is right. With everything you go out and do you are freeing yourself from his hold on you.

More importantly you’re starting to feel like yourself again.

Ch. 6

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#unbreakable series #steve rogers fanfic #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain America #Steve Rogers series #Steve Rogers slow burn

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weebsinstash · 11 months

Note

What if Miguel gives you a suit anyway even if you're not a spider person to protect you? 👀👀 one that moves when it senses danger so he's less worried about you when he's not there (but also with commands only he knows and really only he can disable? 👀👀👀). Reader can't take the suit off and realizes too late 👀👀👀👀 (I'm user filthdumpformeself btw)

Godddddddd it would open Reader up for some real manipulation and potential abuse. To be a NORMIE? At least some of these characters are scientists and inventors, but if you're just a powerless civilian, you'd be almost jumping at the opportunity to be something more, to mean something in this super-powered world you're in

I mentioned in another idea, 'what if Reader lost their home universe and they live where the Spider Society is' and you just 24/7 have to have a bracelet on or you'll glitch out and no on will know what will happen. Usually you'd return to your home universe, but since YOU don't have one, would you just POP! cease to exist? He never tells you, but the thought TERRIFIES Miguel, and once a week he's making sure to personally perform routine exams on your wristwatch to make sure it's functioning. So imagine if he eventually expanded on that. The suit would need some sort of source to project out of, so he combines it withe the bracelet. You still need to bathe after all!

As a person with a physical disability, I often think about and well, grieve over the abilities and physical fitness I'll never be able to have, and I think Reader in this scenario would have a similar experience. You're a normie surrounded by superheroes and genius scientists and they're all doing flips and hanging upside down and have zero fear of heights and natural invulnerability and EVERYTHING! You're in Spiderman Super Central and you're the only one who isnt allowed to be in the super special big boy club. It would make you so isolated and depressed, especially because like, Nueva York looks HUGE, so like there's definitely parts where all the normal people live, but Miguel insists you live in the Society to keep an eye on your bracelet (and also to keep you around)

This is where you're vulnerable to the manipulation and potentially having to do whatever he asks. You're DESPERATE for the freedom and fun and feeling of fulfillment only the suit can provide. It's a proverbial carrot he's dangling over your head. You want your powers back? Behave yourself. Do whatever he wants.

Just imagine it. You're high on the euphoria of getting to run around with other spiders and actually have some sort of purpose and, a new Spidey friend of yours is like "hey I got some goons in my home universe, what if you tagged along?" And suddenly Miguel is getting a little ping on his own bracelet "bracelet number 8364937 whatever tf just warped to coordinates XYZ" and he FLIPS OUT. They had you exposed to danger? They had you fighting?! And he storms all the way over there to see you're actually doing great and fighting fine, but so much of that is the suit, and you and him start an argument until he snaps. He didn't give you this suit to run around in suicide missions, and he scolds you not to do this again.

Snapcut to him finding out you did it again, and even confronting you WHILE another Spider is showing you the ropes and letting you train and fight (who will receive a severe punishment for it later). The two of you just start really arguing as you vent your feelings of uselessness and anger on him, maybe even saying something like "you can't just... try and CONTROL ME like this! You gave this to me, it should be mine to use!" And he just looks at you coldly. "You're right. I AM the one who gave it to you." And suddenly he's hitting a button and, you're still standing there in a suit strikingly visually similar to his own, but you can feel the exoskeleton kind of slack off your body, you feel heavier, and when you storm away from him angrily, you find out that your suit has had every function disabled. Every single one. No slinging webs, no defying gravity, no invulnerability, no super strength. Your Spider friends invite you for a swing around the city? You have to tearfully turn them down, and suddenly you're all isolated again. You're having to constantly turn down your friends and watch everyone have fun without you until you're going back to Miguel in tears, begging for his forgiveness, asking him what you can do for his forgiveness. PLEASE don't do this, with that suit you could help out around the Society and in other dimensions, or, you could at least just live a fun life in this place, and you're begging him with tears, PLEASE please please don't take away your new purpose

Not to mention you would have no idea but he can just constantly spy on you. He can find your location, he can listen in to your conversations and I imagine if you're all suited up, that he can potentially even control your movements. You mouth off and he just crosses his arms, "ok then. Power suit, activate protocol TO-1H" and suddenly your legs are marching you to your room and forcing you to give yourself a time out for an hour and he's monitoring you on a SpiPad while you cry by yourself and he can hear you whimpering all your private thoughts. "I just want to mean something... why is he doing this to me..."

An idea I had for the Spider Reader vs Evil OTHER Spider Reader which can also be applied here is, like, imagine you start clearly sinking into a depression during one of your "no spidey time" punishments and you're just feeling alone and sad as you eat in the food court with other Spiders and you're just looking down at the watch and suddenly you just say "do you think if I took this off I would die?"

The entire fucking cafeteria has their Spidey Sense go off and everyone looks at you. And you force a laugh, feeling super awkward as your face burns, and before you can laugh out "it was just a joke", something is casting a shadow over you, and you look up to see Miguel towering over you, one of the rare occasions he came out to socialize with other people. To try and eat with YOU. And he just heard you say THAT? THAT'S when he decides, you know what, I'm making this bracelet/suit unable to be taken off without special permissions 😤 no suicide or leaving allowed

But I imagine even if he doesn't want to see you taking risks and potentially getting hurt, he probably feels so warm and fuzzy and proud when he's teaching you new Spidey things and you pick up on then and do a good job and he praises you and you hit him with a big smile that makes his heart melt as he decides, ok, MAYBE he can let you play with your little suit, but only because it gives him more excuses to spend time with you ❤️

#atsv #yandere spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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voxmortuus · 9 months

Note

Hi! It’s me the anon requesting for the dark fic about Alexander.. and honestly, write whatever makes you inspired about haha it’s up to you. He played a character in the stand as Randall Flagg so maybe something with that character?! Thank you 😍

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Randall Flagg x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Stand ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 4.5k ⇘ SUMMARY:⇙ All your life you've been seeing this man with a smiley faced pin in your dreams, well the end has come, and you're left with a choice. Tired, hungry, thirsty, and alone, you decide to take the kindness of one Randall Flagg under the impression that it's what you wanted. Agreeing to stay things quickly take a turn for the worst and you are forced to become his incubator. ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ None of these trigger warnings are in order, so just read them and remember then as you read this. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT | Talk of Murder | Manipulation | Persuading for reader to keep drinking | Sexual coercion and Rape | Slapping both reader and reader slapping him | Spitting | Fighting Reader | Unprotected PiV | Choking Reader | Slamming Reader against glass window & floor | Hinted that reader has a violent past | Reader's face gets held down by boot | Abuse to Reader | Threatening Reader's life | Threatening Reader w/knife | Stabbing Reader | Blood & Blood Play | Captive Reader | Reader gets chained to bed | Reader is forced into breeding | Forced Impregnation | Forced groping | Forced inebriation | Forced Threesome | Unknowing drugging of reader | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy. Also I'm sorry if this is just horribly written. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IN STORY DIVIDER:⇙ @voxmortuus ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @punksimulationn ⇘ TAGGING:⇙ @lenareallylovestoread ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

It was a long walk from Winthrop, WA. Not to mention utterly trying, at this point, you were no stranger to death, let alone having to protect yourself. This outbreak made people go bananas. From people wanting to kill you, rape you, likely wanting to eat you, to those trying to tell you to seek out Mother Abigail, and those telling you to seek out Randall, you couldn't tell what was up who was down, and where was up. This outbreak has sent people into this pit of what? Craziness. Destruction. There were times when it wasn't so bad. Peaceful even. No cars speeding, no one screaming, no violence, just you, and nature.

After walking for almost three weeks, you're exhausted, damn near the point of tears, you're hungry and thirsty, and your body aches in places you didn't know could ache. There's this part of you that just wants to quit. But then you remember the dreams, that yellow smiley face pin, the blonde man that wanted to give you a bed to sleep in, a tall glass of ice water. He was kind to you, all he wanted you to do was to find him. Something about you being special. But why were you special? You were just some girl living in Winthrop, Washington... what made you so special that this mysterious man has been watching you. But the more you sit there, the more you think, the more you realize he's been watching you for a long time. Since you were a little girl. You remember the pin. His denim outfit, and the sound of his boots.

Wiping your face from the tears you look around, seeing more signs telling you who to follow and how far to go. Sniffling a moment you try to contain yourself, telling yourself once you find this man, you'll get your tall glass of water, you'll get your bed, and a shower. You just need to find him. You'll know it's him because you'll know that pin, you'll know that smile, that voice. And if he touches you, you'll know that too. Just have to go a little farther. Looking around you choose to take the well-traveled path. At least at this moment, you know it's bound to lead you somewhere. Especially out in the desert.

After a lot of self-motivation to not give up and to keep walking, you find yourself standing there on the border of walking into this ivory building so to speak, or to turn around and find yourself someplace else, was this where you needed to be? Probably not, but you know what, maybe it was too late to turn back, after all, you came all this way. Looking down at your feet, you were tired, worn out, thirsty, and hungry, and you just wanted a place to rest your feet, even for the night. Maybe this will be all right, right? Letting out a heavy breath, you cross into the location; it was like night and day. Looking around you felt like maybe you had made a major mistake being here.

Letting out a heavy breath you close your eyes for a brief moment and then a voice jolted you.

"What are you doing here?" They asked.

Looking over, you lick your lips. "I umm... I'm just passing through." You state, but the look they were giving you, that answer wasn't good enough.

"Leave her alone." a voice, a familiar voice, boomed out of nowhere, you know this voice, you've heard this voice, you've seen who this voice belongs to.

The person slowly backs away and you watch this man approaching you, dressed in denim with a bright yellow smiley-faced pin attached to his jacket you look him over, rubbing your eyes a moment you shake your head, he couldn't be the same one, it couldn't be, it really couldn't be. He was handsome, but his aura didn't read so handsome, not this time. Your heart pounded in your chest. Licking your lips, you were so thirsty. You look over him as he approaches you.

"You've come to the right place, I've been expecting you. Come with me, I can only imagine how thirsty you are." He states as he escorts you a little further.

"Oh, oh no, I don't want to Impose." You state stopping in your tracks and looking over everything, and look back at him, "You've been waiting for me?"

"Darlin' you've come this far, this must be where you want to be." He smiles a charming smile. "You can't tell me that you don't want a nice cold glass of water?" He asked. Looking over you, he licks his lips. "Don't you remember?"

Water did sound appealing but you don't quite answer. "I'd remember that pin anywhere." You stated looking at it. It gave you a small sense of happiness, maybe even a little bit of hope. You reach out to touch it.

"Or maybe something to eat, here, you'll never go without. Doesn't that sound good? A bed to sleep in? Food to eat, all you can drink, a place to rest your feet, a place where you matter?" He stops and looks down as you reach out and touch the pin. "You like that, don't you?" He asked with a small smile.

That did sound good, then you look over him and tilt your head. "I do... I really do." You say softly with a small smile before you scoff at yourself, shake your head, and drop your finger from touching the pin.

"You can't tell me that doesn't sound good. This is right where you want to be, you ain't gonna find that anyplace else." He stated with that charming grin. He holds out his hand. "Join me." He smiles again.

Chewing on the corner of your lip you look him over. With some hesitation, you reach forward and place your hand in his.

"Thatta girl." He mused as he takes your hand and kisses it before he takes you toward the large building.

As you walk a little further into the building, you see the debauchery, the craziness of it all, people doing as they pleased, no consequences, at least not that you saw. You were curious admittingly so, but you were still slightly unsure. He was going to have to win you, though, so far he was doing a good job, you were taken by his charm, his calm aura, and the smoothness of his voice. He knew what to say to rope you in, and it wasn't going to be the last time.

As he brings you toward the elevator you look out and down on everyone, your eyes go wide.

"How many were just passing through and chose to stay? Do you know each one of them?" you asked as your gaze keeps on the people below.

He chuckles. "Not all are as lucky as you. I have no idea, probably some more than others, but they are all here for a reason. Just like you." He stated.

He knew things others didn't know, things you've kept secret, he knew of those bad things you've done, and he knew you weren't just passing through. You were no better than the others below, but he has plans for you, plans that are not quite what you're expecting them to be.

Once the elevator reaches the top floor he guides you into his suite. Your jaw clenches as you take in a deep breath. Your body trembled a moment but you felt this soft relaxed feeling wash over you. He lets out a soft chuckle as he looks back at you as you stop and look around a moment before you are beckoned. You just want to take it all in but that was cut somewhat short. As he starts walking down the hall, others stop and stare, muttering to each other. Your brow furrowed a bit, and look down as you start walking closer to a set of double doors. As the doors open you follow him in and you look over your shoulder as you watch the others standing there staring at you and vanish upon the door closing.

You didn't understand why people were staring at you, watching you, even muttering and speaking about you. Why were they so in awe by the fact that the man in your dreams was talking to you and bringing you up to his living space? You had no idea. Biting your lip you let out a soft breath and look down at your feet as you trail behind the tall man dressed in denim. Left, right, left, right, it's like you had to mentally tell yourself to walk forward. Your jaw clenches at yourself, frustrated you had to think about such a mundane task as walking.

"Why were the people staring at me back there? It's like they've never seen you with another person before." You ask, likely chuckling, trying to find it amusing, but truthfully you're too tired to really even care.

"Because you're special, and they don't get to see special all that often."

"Why am I special?" you ask.

"Because you're with me." He smirked.

Getting to someplace for you to sit you look around before taking a seat, you look up at him and your brow furrowed trying to understand what made him so damn special and why was he in your dreams? Maybe it was the fact that you had those prosthetic dreams people talk about. That bit of internal hope of that being it is what fueled you into thinking that maybe you are here for a reason. You sit there and look up over this man for a moment and you try to observe his actions, when he sits, he sits with this calming aura.

Licking your lips you look down at your hands for a moment and think. "Thank you, for giving me a place, even for the night." You state.

"You'll want to stay, trust me." He smirked with a small wink.

"We'll see... I told you, I'm just passing through." You state softly.

He tilts his head and looks over you, he can see with you, it was going to take a little more effort than offering you the world. But that's okay, he wasn't in too much of a rush. Licking his lips he chuckled.

"Of course. Well, at least for tonight, you should rest up, eat something, and maybe think about staying. I could always use a good right hand." He smirked again.

Thinking about him your jaw twitches a moment before you let out a slow breath and nod. "Yeah, I'll think about it." You state looking down a moment as someone came up and offered you a glass of ice-cold water, thanking them and look back toward Randall and search his face.

"What is your name?" You ask.

"Randall." He stated.

"Randall..." you say softly. "You didn't ask me mine."

"I don't need to ask you yours. I know your name. But you're exhausted, have your water, something to eat, and you can find your room right down the hall with your name on a piece of paper hanging on the door." He stated.

Watching him he gets up and makes his way over to the large windows. You could tell he was thinking, or at least that's what you're going to tell yourself. You don't actually know if he is or isn't. But you'd like to assume so.

Smelling the food your head darts in the direction and you smile. It's exactly what you were craving. A delicious hot sandwich with curly fries and a cheese dip sauce. You take a bite and groan in pure satisfaction. Truthfully, as well-mannered as you wanted to be, you scarfed that sandwich down and you kind of hid behind a curtain of dust-filled hair and you let out a soft breath.

You went to speak, to thank him, but he was gone, your brow furrows, and you head to the room you were told was yours, taking the paper from the door you look around, people still staring at you you furrow your brow and walk into the room. Upon walking in you look around, wasting no time, you strip down and take a nice cool shower. Much needed to say the least.

It had been a few days, you had agreed to stay, to give it a chance, and Randall was thrilled to hear it, today was a day you got to spend with Randall, got to see the masses below doing god knows what. Today wasn't just any ordinary day, today you got to oversee a trial, a trial that had damned a man to death. A traitor. You were still trying to understand why he wanted you to see this. But it's because this man knew that you were no stranger to death.

"So, did they kill him?" He asked.

"Yes, they did. Was quite brutal." You stated.

"You're no stranger to that now, are you?" He asked again, looking over your face.

Your brow furrowed and you licked your lips remembering all those years ago. You clear your throat and look up. "I think I'll see myself out now." You state.

"Oh come on, do you really want to do that? You were enjoying your time here. You have everything you ever wanted handed to you. You don't need to want for anything, do you? I can give you so much more." He stated as he walked to you and pulled you close to him.

Your heart started to pound. "I really should go." You state softly.

Tilting your head up he looks into your eyes and shakes his head. "No, you really don't, and you know you don't. You chose to come here. You chose to stay here. This is where you want to be." He stated.

Was he right? He must be. You did choose to stay for the past few days. You did come here on your own accord. He really didn't force you to stay, that was a choice you made. Licking your lips you let out a soft breath and look over him a moment before moving away from him to look out the window. After letting you have a moment, it gave him time to make you a drink.

"Here, drink this, it'll calm your nerves." He stated as he handed you a glass, little did you know that the glass was actually a harsh liquor with some roofie mixed in.

"Thanks." You state as you take the drink and take a sip from it before coughing a moment and looking at him. "What is this?" You ask.

"Just drink it, I promise you'll feel better after." He smiled.

This man hadn't done you wrong yet so may as well right? You sigh a soft sigh and agree to drink the liquor. What he said made sense, and truthfully. Little did you quite realize the subtle manipulation, making it seem it was all your thoughts, that you were the one with the thoughts. Licking your lips you take a sip from the harsh drink and let out a soft breath as it was rough going down. After another sip, you look over at Randall and lick your lips a moment.

"Do you think you could add maybe some sort of fruit flavor to this? It's a bit harsh." You state, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

Though he didn't think of you as ungrateful, he simply chuckled and took the drink, and handed it back to you. "Here, Darlin'. Make sure you drink all of it. No drop left behind." He chuckled.

"Thanks." You state letting out another soft breath you lick at your lips and take a sip.

This fixed drink was much better. So drinking it was like drinking liquid candy. He didn't even ask you instead he started to refill your glass. He hands you the refreshed glass and your brow furrows a moment and you look over at him.

"Drink up, you enjoy that." He smiled.

He wasn't wrong, you brought the glass to your lips and you look over his face before looking down at all the people below. After the first drink, this one was sweeter than the last, maybe it was because he used less liquor, it was good, so it went down easier, and quicker, only for him to bring you a refilled glass. You look over his face and you tilt your head.

"Another?" you ask.

"You didn't finish your other one, take a drink."

You look at him. You could have sworn you finished your last drink. You make a small face and you look at him. "I finished my last one. I know I did."

"No, no you didn't. Here. You had two sips off the last one, take this, finish it, then I'll get you something to eat." He stated.

Taking the drink from him you clench your jaw and thank him again, and you start to slowly drink it before you realize that you're starting to feel a little dizzy. You move to take a seat but he keeps you standing up. He stands behind you and places his hands on either side of your hips. You try to move away from him, you didn't want the touch. You start to feel uncomfortable. You turn and hand him your drink.

"I should go." You state.

"No, finish your drink." He states as he doesn't move from you.

"No, I should go back to my room." You state honestly.

"I insist... finish your drink." He states.

Feeling dizzy you look at him and rub your face. You clench your jaw and shake your head. You set your drink on a nearby table and try to walk away but he grabs you and pulls you back.

"You're not going anywhere." He states firmly.

"Ye-yesIam." You state with a stumble.

He was starting to get irritated with you, he firmly grabs your arm and yanks you back. You growl and spit at him. "Let me the fuck go."

"You're not fucking going anywhere." He states wiping the spit from his face.

You begin to shove him but he shoves you against the glass window, instead of letting you fall he grips your arm and looks over your face before he snarls.

"You're staying right here." He growls.

Letting out a slight whimper you bring your hand to your head and attempt to slap at him to shove, stomp on his foot anything you can do to get away. He grabs you and he drags you to the bed and tosses you on it. You start to panic, but you are having a hard time pulling yourself together. You start to kick as you feel him climbing toward you. You have no idea what happened between the drink and now for him to do this. What did you say? What did you do? You are hitting pure panic mode.

"FUCK YOU!" You scream as you get off the bed and are beginning to crawl away.

Licking his lips he looks down at you, rolling up his sleeves of his denim shirt after tossing his jacket to the side he walks to you and pulls your leg toward him, and flips you over. You attempt to escape again but he takes his boot and presses it against the side of your face forcing your face against the side of the floor. You attempt to fight and call for help, but there wasn't anyone coming to get you, they all knew better than to walk into this room without his direction.

"LET ME GO!" You fight but it was getting more and more difficult to keep yourself awake.

"I'm not letting you go." He stated as he kept his foot against your head.

"Why are you doing this? What did I do?" You ask.

"You're chosen... you can handle this. Stop fighting." He notes your breathing as it started to slow.

Waking up you feel groggy, sore, and chained to a fucking bed?! You move your hands over yourself and find yourself completely nude, feeling between your legs you feel where he's used you. You snarl and you go to stand up and move but you are quickly brought back to the bed. Reaching up you find that you're collared and chained to the bed like some sort of animal.

"What the fuck?!" You yell.

He walks around the corner and smirks. "Oh, you're awake. Good."

"What the fuck!" You snap. "Did you..." You reach between your legs. "Was this you?!" You snap.

He chuckles. "Oh yeah, and you screamed and moaned like you were absolutely enjoying it more than the last time you were fucked." He chuckled again.

"How dare you?! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" You slap him across the face.

With a snarl, your face meets the back of his hand. "I fucking own you that's who the fuck I think I am. You enjoyed it. You were begging for more, and I gave you more. You should thank me." He stated.

"Why am I here? Who are you?! Why were you in my dreams?!" You snap.

"You're here because you wanted to be here, you came here on your own, just like how you climbed into my bed on your own. I have it all on video." He states as he pulls out a remote and turns on the TV and rewinds to last night.

Sitting there you watch as you climb into the bed, and start taking off all your clothing, groping yourself, and playing with yourself. You watch him strip down, and begin to have his way with you. You watch as he calls for someone else. You then watch yourself begin to fight. It's clear you're begging, but you're begging for him to stop as the other man comes in and strips down, and both of them are having their way with you. You watch as you fight but they are both restraining you, taking turns filling you.

You're angry, feeling like you're going to be sick. You look at him. "What the actual fuck? Do you think I was begging you to do that? It looked like I was begging you to stop." You state with a small growl.

"Begging is begging." He stated. "And baby, you were begging." He stated with a chuckle and an emphasis on the begging aspect.

Disgusted, you tremble in utter disgust. Clenching your jaw you walk over and throw your fist against his face with all your might before you start slapping him and kicking him. You were angry, furious, feeling used and abused and violated. Rightfully so. You were quickly brought to a halt when he grips your throat, slams you into the floor, and kneels down on top of you straddling your body. You go to try and punch again.

"Hit me again, and I will fucking kill you." He snarled and grabbed his knife from under the bed.

"Then fuckin kill me. I'm far better off dead at this point." You hiss after spitting in his face again.

Taking the blade he stabs it into your side, missing all vital organs and arteries, his goal wasn't to kill you, but to scare you. He snarls. You snarl back and for what? What were you going to do? You couldn't do anything but you start to scream feeling the rush going away, and a foreign object stabbing into you, your eyes go wide and let out another scream before he rips it from you. With your hand, you reach to your wound and feel the blood pouring out of it. You slap it across his face, snarling he jerks you and slams you into the floor again, feeling light-headed from being slammed into the floor you try and find your bearings.

He takes his own hand and brings it to the blood and smears it on your body, the bright red against the contrast of your skin was something he enjoyed very much, it excited him, moving to settle himself between your legs you begin to try and fight him, still woozy, he takes the blood from your side and slides it up your legs, coating your inner things in it before he strips down and looks down at you. Licking his lips he wastes no time shoving his already-stiffened cock into you. You let out a scream and begin to kick and thrash yourself to get away from him but it's not working.

You begin to cry, screaming, pleading for him to stop.

"I don't think so. Take it, enjoy it. You're going to carry my child. The last bitch killed my child, but you'll make a fine incubation chamber for my spawn." He snarled.

You didn't want that, you didn't need that.

"NO! NO! NO! STOP!" You begin to sob. "Please stop."

It's like you lost all your strength, it's like it was drained from you as he thrusts into your wet center with no cares.

Thrust after thrust, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed into the room, the stickiness of the blood keeping your legs against him. You just lay there, whimpers of crying, whimpers of being thrust into, but not whimpers of enjoyment, not whimpers of love or desire, but whimpers nonetheless. Your eyes cast to the side as your head turns to face the bottom of the window. You tried to find your happy place as he uses your body you can't find the fight in you anymore, you feel like all you've done is fight. You feel this anger bubbling inside you as you hear him growl and snarl.

He grips you and lifts your hips a bit to get a deeper penetration to deposit his seed... again. Your jaw clenches. Incubator. It's the only word that echoes in your mind.

Standing in the bathroom, bruised, stitched up, poorly mind you. You look over yourself in the mirror, your eyes red and swollen from crying. Your lips cracked and bloodied. You break down in tears, feeling every ounce of pain in your body from the past two days. You had been used, fighting him off, running your hand over your tummy you shake your head.

It all seemed to happen so fast, and you have so much regret in you, you hate all you've done, you hate everything you've done to yourself and those you've hurt. You suddenly feel like you need a priest and a confessional. You sob harder in the bathroom, the only time you have alone and to yourself. You shake your head and looked down at yourself.

"He's not going to be allowed to keep you..." You clench your jaw.

Suddenly there became a bang at the door.

"Do you like living?" He asks.

"Not with you I don't." You snap.

"You should be so lucky I chose you. Women would kill to be in your shoes." He stated.

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