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tired-biscuit · 2 years

Text

Sneaky

Pairing: Obito Uchiha/fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni!!] modern au. stepcest, slight degrading, rough doggy. stepbrother!obito.

Word count: 5.8k

Masterlist

---

“Obiii! Do you have anything cute I could wear?”

A SIGH puffs past Obito’s lips at the fluffy nickname you insist on using for him.

Pausing the game at your coy whining that’s steadily growing louder as you dash up the stairs and take them two at a time, the twenty-one-year-old Uchiha grumbles in annoyance whilst he sits up in his bed and straightens his spine that’s long since gone stiff from hours of remaining stuck in one position.

The car he’s succeeded in stealing from an NPC freezes in the midst of the virtual road just as Obito tosses his controller to the side. He catches the blurring effect overlay the television screen before it coats the room with dim darkness. Meanwhile, you're already turning the knob and peeking inside his bedroom.

There’s a giddy glint of mischief swirling inside your irises which he can see even across the distance between you, despite the rather innocent quirk your mouth portrays in that exact moment. Reprising your role of the annoying little stepsister he’s never asked to have, you’re spelling nothing but trouble and seem to be set on irritating the crap out of him yet again.

Great.

He gives you a glare as his gaze fixates on you; the ebony within his eyes hardening to sleek, dark ice which you’re pretty used to by now, much to his misfortune. “Can’t even bother to knock?”

“Didn’t feel like it.” Obito can see your smile grow into something a little less pure with the matter-of-fact tone you use as you step inside his bedroom without receiving any sort of invitation from him first-hand. “Besides, what do I even need to knock for? It’s not like you've got anything interesting to hide in this sad little man cave of yours.”

Obito huffs at the jab. He can already feel his nerves sparking with vexation from your presence alone as he scrubs both hands across his face to avoid showing the exasperation he's experiencing. He’s rubbing at both of his eyes; groaning and sighing until he can see stars of blue and violet behind his eyelids. “Oh, my god… You’re so funny.”

What he says is true, despite the sarcastic and rather bored tone he uses to lace his statement. He’s gotten to meet you officially only eight months ago; has been living with you for four, and not once during that time have you failed at coming up with a witty retaliation that could match - hell, even one up - his own.

It’s a talent, really. Most people usually give in the moment they face the unyielding monster that is his stubbornness, because, well: he’s worse than an ox repeatedly slamming its head against the wall when it comes to sticking to his opinion. However, much to his dismay, it seems that you’ve managed to build yourself quite a hindrance in these measly couple of months of living with him.

“I’ll be here all night.” You brush him off with a flick of the wrist now, proving his point even further as you click the door shut and aim straight for his wardrobe. “It’d be my pleasure to entertain you, dear brother. Right after I raid your closet, though.”

Actually, you’d entertain him in more ways than one. But Obito doesn’t know that, of course. Come to think of it, neither do you. At least not truly, anyway.

The desire is hidden somewhere deep, deep down. Where even your conscience isn't able to reach.

“I’d rather not.” He’s silent for a second as if he’s mulling something over before he adds, “And I ain’t your brother.”

“Right.” He’s determined to remind you of that fact quite often. Your response is nothing but a shrug that is aimed in his direction, even though your back is turned towards him now. “Your loss.”

“Is it?”

His question makes you still your search through his hoodies for a brief second before you sigh and bend over to go through the lower shelf that’s practically cluttered with clothes he doesn’t wear all that often. You furrow your brow and bite your lip absent-mindedly as your fingers trace the untidy stack of thick cotton that’s nearly all in the exact same shade of navy blue. “And what do you mean by that, my beloved Obi?”

Unbeknownst to you, your so-called ‘beloved’ stepbrother is watching the way your pastel pink gym shorts tighten around the curve of your ass with the movement as you lean even further into his wardrobe to grab a sweater that’s hidden way in the back. The manner in which the spandex pinches both sides of your juicy thighs until he can see the slight cinching of the plush flesh is fury-inducing to a man like him who’s into legs.

He forces himself to look up from the smooth back of your thighs and calves, but all he can see now is the round shape of your plump pussy. He’s literally able to make out the hole from how noticeably the bubblegum pink fabric dips slightly inwards. It’s like a goddamn ravine of the most adorable design.

And Obito feels bad, perhaps even dirty, for wanting to trek it with his fingers and tongue. All until you’d start to wiggle your hips and mewl like a little kitten against him; asking him for more, calling him a good big brother for taking such good care of that needy little pu-

For fuck’s sake, are you doing it on purpose?! Is the way you jiggle your ass right in front of him just another ploy to provoke him like you’ve been doing ever since moving into this godforsaken house? It’s not the first time it’s happened; these tension-inducing moments that arouse sin within his mind no matter how much time has passed, as well as the fact that he’s tried to not look and act upon them.

And God knows that he’s tried. Yes, even when he’s heard you moaning quietly on the other side of the wall late at night before the buzz of your vibrator finally died down. Before you finally came - all on your own, without his help. Even then.

“I just… Uh…” Obito clears his throat; swallowing the runny saliva as his expression darkens into something a bit more troubled. The shadows would have literally been visible on his face, had it not been for the dim lighting of the room and the late hour to accompany it when he utters, “I don’t see any advantages to being your brother, is all.”

“Wow.” All he can see is your right eye and the half of your face that’s partially hidden by the curve of your shoulder as you turn to look at him. “Is there supposed to be an advantage? Or are you just trying to be plain mean again?”

‘There could be an advantage, if you’d let it happen,’ he thinks.

“I dunno, I asked you first,” he says instead, picking up the controller again. He spares you a glance the moment you stand up to your full height and show him the hoodie you’ve snatched like it’s a prize. He frowns at the way you press it against your chest and squeeze it real tight in excitement. “Make sure to give that back when you’re done wearing it. And don’t spray any of that shitty perfume on it like you did on my Nike hoodie last time.”

He couldn’t stop smelling it during class the last time he’d worn it. Couldn’t concentrate at all, not even when Kakashi - his stupid classmate/friend - had started looking at him all kinds of weird.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble as you put on the black oversized piece of clothing and check yourself in the mirror. “So strict... You’re nothing like dad.”

“My dad lets you do what you want, just so you’ll approve of him and take it easy on the whole marriage ordeal your mom can’t shut her mouth about,” he retaliates, enunciating the word ‘my’ to only give you more proof he doesn’t consider you family. “Where are you even going, by the way?”

The wink you give him is as sly as that of a fox as you fix the sleeves and prop your hands against your hips, “Why do you care?”

His expression is completely deadpan, even though his heart is jumping all over inside his chest at the tease you’ve just given him. “I never said I did.”

“Mhmmm,” you hum, smiling again. “Then why are you askin’, brother dearest?”

All Obito does is stare at you. And then he points at the door. “Out.”

He hates it when you call him that. Outright despises it, for some reason.

Your girlish laugh makes his brain tingle with something gooey and warm that shouldn’t be there as you skip towards the door. “If you must know, I’m heading to Sakura’s to watch a movie with a couple of friends.”

He dismisses you completely with a subtle wave of his hand as he turns towards the television again. “Aha.” In truth, he wants to ask what friends, what movie, when are you planning to come back home and with who, but he represses the urge. Of course he does.

“I’ll text you when I get there,” you chirp knowingly as your hand wraps around the doorknob. You notice the baseball cap that’s thrown on his desk. It's got his university's logo patched right in the front. “I'll be borrowing this, too. You don't mind… Right, Obi?”

“Aha,” he repeats dispassionately, even though his eyes flick towards the nightstand so that he can be positive he has his phone there. “Just make sure to give me my shit back the moment you step foot inside the house again. I’m not playin’ around, ‘cause last time you-”

“Bye, Obi!” His sentence is broken as you slam the door shut behind you.

“Did you hear what I just said? Hey! Airhead!” He shouts after you, but the only answer he can hear is the pitter-patter of your feet against the wooden stairs and your mischievous snickering. A proper she-devil you are; causing chaos to his already mayhem of a life.

The emoji of the pink, sparkly heart and the winky face you text him not a minute later as some lame sort of apology only causes Obito to grumble out loud. He turns back to his game with slightly redder cheeks than what would be considered the norm for him and with his body just a couple of degrees hotter than it was before you entered the room.

He’ll never admit to getting flustered over a text message from his stepsister. Will never admit that he’s just spent minutes staring and leering at that fine, peachy ass of yours; imagining all the ways he'd make it jiggle and clap.

Boom! - the memory of your curves stuffed in those tiny shorts makes him crash the car straight into a brick wall of pixels. He watches as the screen turns black whilst he toys with the pair of joysticks stuck to the controller. His digits feel somewhat sweaty as they slide across the smooth rubber over and over again.

He's quite skilled with his fingers from gaming so much. It's a shame he can't put them to good use. Like on that tiny nub of nerves between your legs.

“Ugh.”

Great. Just great.

—

That same night, Obito is awoken by multiple repetitive nudges to the cheek.

It’s been ages since you’ve left, the late hour is even later and he’s tossing and turning to the side in his bed now; trying to swat your hand away with a lazy drawl of a groan that’s voiced only because you’re so fucking persistent at pestering him.

He hears your giggle the moment he forces his heavy eyelids open after some much-needed effort. You’re leaning over him: your face is hovering mere inches from his own as you watch him in the dark, lips puckered around the plastic stick of the sucker you’re licking at absent-mindedly whilst studying his sharp features. The only source of light is the meek sliver of orange from the street lamp outside his window. It splashes the side of your face to the point that he can see that same glint inside your irises he's seen hours ago.

“What… Mm, what d’you want?” He sounds so sleepy as he draws out the vowels; so deep and raspy - husky. It sends a chill trickling down your spine like it’s a surge of cold water weaved with chunks of ice in-between. If the popping and crackling of burning logs had a voice, it’d be this one.

It’s so improper to feel turned on by the sound of your stepbrother’s morning - does it count as morning already? - voice, but it’s not like you can control it.

His cheek is still warm from sleep as you nudge him again, prodding the bone underneath the soft skin in an attempt of averting your attention from your troubled thoughts. “I brought you your hoodie back, Obi.”

Obito nods before he buries his face further into the pillow. Of course you'll listen to what he says only when it suits you. “And the cap?”

Silence meets him. And then: “Oh, shit.”

He sighs as he looks up at the ceiling, and even though he already knows the answer, he still asks: “Mm?”

“I forgot it at Sakura’s,” you admit quietly, exhaling deeply in apology. “I’m sorry. I’ll get it back first thing tomorrow… I promise!”

You’re expecting him to be angry. To be scowling up at you and starting one of those annoying-ass monologues of how irresponsible you are and that he’s never letting you borrow his stuff again; that you’ll need to pry it from his cold, dead hands if you ever wish to wear it again in this lifetime and how much you suck - all that typical jazz.

But all he does instead, is blink tiredly as he mutters a nonchalant, “Fine.”

You watch the fluttering of his thick eyelashes before he lifts his hand and rubs at his eye. The one that he keeps open is still glazed over with a film of slumber that makes the ebony shade within hazy and blurry at first glance. His pupil is so big, even though you can barely distinguish it from the iris from how matching in colour it is.

“Fine?” You stare down at him in pure astonishment as you keep inhaling his musky scent. Every shallow breath is only unknowingly drawing you closer to him - to your fucking stepbrother.

Obito smells like pine; you’ve noticed it the first time you’ve borrowed - stolen - his hoodie. His scent is potent and sticks to your skin and hair, no matter how long you wear the clothes. It reminds you of the soil underneath your feet, the moss, the roots and the earth itself - like a gloomy morning full of thick air and promises of rain. In all honesty, it makes it hard to concentrate, but you still manage to whisper, “So, you’re not angry with me?”

He looks up at you, eyeing the strawberry lollipop that’s dangling from your bottom lip and coating the inner edge of your pouty mouth a bright red. His voice is merely a hushed whisper of his own as he replies, “No, m’not.”

You don’t know what kind of lewd god possesses you in that moment that makes you pull out the lollipop from your mouth and press it against his lips gently, and yet you’re doing it anyway. Shame.

“Here,” you mumble, coaxing him to take the sweet, “as an apology, since I’ve got nothing better to give ya.”

Obito can see the sheen of your drool coating the sucker; can feel it wetting his lips as you keep pressing it against his mouth. He’s twenty-one, and yet he can’t help but think of it as an indirect kiss, like he's eight again. And perhaps he’s still too brain-dead from sleep, or simply because it’s one in the morning and secrets are spilled easier late at night, but he catches himself saying, “You’ve got plenty of things you could'a given me, if you wanted to.”

Your fingers nearly tremble as you watch him part his plush lips and accept the lollipop the moment the words are out and dangling in the open space between you like some inviting bait you can't help but paw at curiously.

And it’s the way his lips wrap around it; the way you catch the tip of his pink tongue glide over the sugar before he sucks it into his mouth that makes your insides all jittery and jelly-like. That makes you outright start ogling at him now.

“Yeah?” You swallow thickly when he looks away and sits up. He looks so unbothered; sighing and stretching his strong limbs until his white t-shirt is riding up his toned stomach. So tired in all the right, appealing ways. Staring at him like this, you wonder if your saliva matches his own when it comes to sweetness. The indecent thoughts make the needle of your moral compass twitch and falter as you speak again, “Like what, for example?”

Twitch, twitch, twitch. His own needle is pushing downwards in the exact same manner. “You could play with me.”

He can see your eyes widen. “Wh-What…? Play with you?”

It’s the first time he’s managed to make you stutter. To make you unable to retaliate and cut him swiftly with a clever comeback. If he weren’t still half asleep, perhaps he’d feel somewhat proud. Perhaps he'd even let the smirk ghost over his lips. “Play GTA with me… You woke me up, so it’s the least you can do.”

Oh… Oh.

You’re not sure if the rock that’s lifted from your heart at his answer is a good thing or not. Still, you linger on his bed; bare knees sinking into the firm mattress as you tilt your head to the side. “You want to play GTA? Like, right now?”

No, he wants to spend time with his bratty little stepsister. “Mhmmm.”

“Well,” you mumble, making yourself comfortable, ”all right, I guess… But you’ve gotta teach me the controls! I have a life, unlike you, ya know.”

Obito yawns before placing the sucker back into his mouth again. “Sure.”

Oh, he’ll teach you, all right.

—

“Okay, now I get why you play this all the time. It’s pretty fun.”

Your giggle is soft to reach Obito’s ears twenty-five minutes later as you keep swiveling the tiny Smart car you’ve managed to steal across the entire virtual road, chuckling and muttering nonsense at how funny it looks: redecorated in an absurd shade of yellow and plastered with stickers from top to bottom.

“Yeah,” your stepbrother drawls lazily, head tipping back against the headboard of the bed without much interest. “Fun.”

You’re lying on your stomach right beside him and he simply can’t stop staring at your ass. It’s just so cute, looking like a plump little peach; all tight and firm from the way your legs are stretched out and your toes are curling subtly into his white bed sheet every once in a while you come close to dying in the stupid video game and you're trying to focus. You’re like a delicious meal - splayed out right next to him, too busy staring at the screen to realize how hungry his stare has gotten. It’s like you’ve been served on a silver platter.

Just for him. All for him.

God, what he wouldn’t give to place his hand on you. To dig his fingers into the fat of your thigh and just make you whimper and plead for more. To feel the spandex of those tiny shorts you insist on wearing rubbing against him; a horny, lonely male still full of vigour.

But instead, Obito places his hand on his own thigh. He bends his knee as he inches it up and rests it on the bulge that’s straining his light grey sweatpants. He sighs when he feels the friction. Resists a groan when his fingers curl around his cock right over the cotton. It’s thick, but he can still feel the pressure even over the single layer. Even more, because he isn’t wearing any underwear underneath.

Is he seriously going to jerk it to his stepsister? While she's right there - next to him? It’s so wrong… But why does it feel so right? So good?

“Fuck yeah!” Your celebratory whisper-shout causes your ass to push high into the air as you finish the race and wave the controller around. The smug look you give him over your shoulder makes his heart hammer inside his ribcage as he immediately drops his hand back to his side.

No self-love tonight, it seems.

But his cock is just so damn hard. It twitches and throbs; especially when your tongue pokes out past your bottom lip to tease him further. “Did you see that? Did you see how well I did? I only drove over one hooker, hah.”

No, he didn't. Sadly, Obito was too busy staring at your ass and imagining how snug his dick would be in-between those plush cheeks. How good it'd feel if he spread them apart and pushed his cock into that sopping hole underneath. Until you'd be crying from how full your pussy would become with him.

“Yeah,” he mutters quietly. His eyes are so glossy that the glaze reminds you of the liquid eyeliner you use from time to time. “You did great. Just one hooker is great.”

“You fucker,” you grumble, kicking his leg, “you weren’t even watching.”

“Sure I was,” he immediately lies through his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath at the surge of pain. “I’ve seen it all.”

“Liar.”

“Call me that again,” he says, tone somber and dark all of a sudden. “I dare you.”

You pucker your lips before a naughty smirk smooths them right back down. “Lia- Ah!”

The squeal you let out sounds a bit too loud with the late hour when he grabs your foot to stop you from causing him any more ache when you try to hit him again. His touch is ticklish but it is also overpowering. It sends tingles creeping up your neck, especially when his fingers wrap around your ankle when you try to escape him.

You’re laughing now; play fighting for some vaguely intimate reason that you’re both trying to conceal underneath the pretense of gaiety as you toss and turn around the bed. The game is long since forgotten. Just like your morals.

After all, in the midst of all the chaos: Obito has somehow managed to end up on top of you, finding improper comfort in the tight space between your legs as your thighs keep rubbing the sides of his waist every time his fingers dig into the sensitive spot right underneath your ribs.

The jab makes your back arch in the process. Makes him do it again and again. Oh god, he's so turned on by it that it makes him sweat.

Trying to keep quiet for your parents’ sake that are asleep downstairs, a gasp leaves you the moment your stepbrother presses a finger to your lips in a meek attempt to shush you. You’re staring up at him now - all doe-eyed and panting, with your hair all askew and with your chest heaving in that tight crop top that certainly leaves nothing to the imagination when it comes to fantasizing how your tits look like. Quite literally; he can see the two cute nubs poking against the fabric.

Obito sounds breathless as he says, “What?”

The outline of his dick is so visible through his sweatpants, and yet you can’t bring yourself to say what you’re thinking about. Can’t admit it - not even in the safety of the darkness to surround you.

The poor Uchiha is completely red in the face from all the movement as he keeps looking down at you all puzzled; his shoulders rising and falling in the same unsteady rhythm of his inhales and exhales that push past his parted lips.

He’s wound up so close to you that you can smell the sugary strawberry on his breath and see the way the artificial colouring has tinted the inside of his mouth. Christ, he looks so innocently charming like this, despite his rather rugged appearance. So fucking sweet - all sunshine and daisies.

And somehow; for some unknown, inexplicable reason, he looks even sweeter when he swallows audibly the moment you place a soft kiss on his finger pad and twirl your tongue right across the print without any sort of explanation or warning. Just the way his Adam's apple bobs inside his throat is enough to get you going.

And somehow; for some even more foreign, unfathomable reason, you look just as lovely as he shoves his digit even deeper into your mouth, as if in silent agreement. As he pushes it in right to the knuckle - until you’re sucking on it in the same manner you did on the lollipop you’ve shoved into his mouth half an hour ago and that he’s long since chewed away.

The tension between you is so thick that it makes it hard to breathe properly. At long last, you’ve finally both acknowledged its presence. To say that you feel on edge would be an understatement.

Especially when he leans in even further and traces the length of your entire bottom lip with the tip of his finger that’s covered in your drool now. When he looks at you with eyes that you can swear burn crimson in colour, or perhaps it’s just the darkness and your nerves playing tricks on you.

Must be that. Why on earth would his eyes turn red, after all? Better yet: how?

You loose a petrified sigh when his thumb hooks underneath your chin and he tilts your head upwards to make you look at him better. To make you share the same breath with him, that you're both secretly yearning to exchange.

His voice sounds so small and hesitant as he whispers, “Why are you here this late, y/n? In my room; at one in the morning?”

And you just can’t bring yourself to answer. Well, at least not by using words.

So you kiss him instead.

Neither of you thinks about anything in particular the moment your fingers curl around the collar of his t-shirt and tug until his lips are crashing against your own clumsily, and your tongue finds its way into his strawberry-coated mouth. You’re just panting; groaning down each other’s throats and trying to grab a hold of each other as tightly as you can.

You both know that what you’re doing is wrong, but god fucking damn it - you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. So good, in fact, that you just keep going. That you keep touching and rocking against each other, sweating and nearly purring like two happy kitties from the wanton friction that’s beginning to buzz between your hot and bothered bodies.

You continue to relish the unfamiliar sensation as his breathing picks up and you begin to mewl when those big, rough hands, that you’ve subtly been eyeing during the entirety of every family dinner, begin to explore your body in awkward, albeit determined gropes.

He’s attempting to fondle and feel every single one of your curves, whilst still tasting your saliva just as fervently. And perhaps you’d laugh at how boyishly enthusiastic he is with it, if you weren’t stuck in the same boat as him; stroking his broad shoulders and scratching the nape of his neck with your pretty fingernails over and over again.

Everything is a blur as you begin to practically tear each other’s clothes off. As your crop top finds its rightful place on the floor of his bedroom, and his hot mouth finds your neck; latching and sucking on the sweet spot just underneath your jaw and blessing you with a hickey you’ll have to somehow figure out a way of hiding from your mother in the morning.

Neither of you wastes time with romance. Any form of tenderness is too risky and needs to be dealt with quickly, if you wish for the curiosity to be appeased and the urge to be satisfied with zero mishaps and no surprise visits from your parents.

So you find yourself lying on your stomach once more, but this time with the weight of your stepbrother pressing you flat against the mattress and those tempting shorts dangling around your ankle, along with your black thong. All until your cheek is flushed against his bed and a lewd mixture of your drool and tears is dotting the bed sheet that smells just as intoxicating and delicious as him.

Honestly, it’s like you’re being hugged by him from the top and bottom. Every inhale feels sacred as you keep filling your lungs with his scent. As he fills you up in return.

“Obiii,” you whine needily, clawing at the duvet that’s somehow managed to find its way underneath your hands. “Oh-...! Oh, fuck!”

“Shh, shh,” Obito soothes you like a good big brother, even though his cock is practically splitting you in half as he tries to stuff all of it into your tight little hole that simply refuses to stretch enough to accept him wholly. “Please keep quiet, cutie. I love your pretty moans, but please... We’ll get, ah… Fuck, you’ll get us in trouble if you keep bein’ so loud.”

“I can’t!” You cry out, as your hips quicken their adorable wiggling underneath him. “Ca-... Can’t keep quiet.”

“You gotta try at least… Gotta try and lemme in, too,” he mumbles in reply as he kisses your naked shoulder blade. You feel the saliva to coat your skin when his teeth graze over the bone. It’s like a mark. One you’re too ashamed to admit you’d be proud to wear.

He’s breathing so heavily against your shoulder that the warmth makes goosebumps erupt all over your arms. Especially when he says: “Be good and listen to your-... Your brother, okay?”

He knows what’s best for you.

The sentence nearly makes you explode into a million little pieces of pleasure that will never get a chance of connecting again. There’s a kink hiding somewhere within it; grinning at you wolfishly and coaxing you to explore it with your greedy little hands. With your lips. Mouth. Every other hole, too.

Your body feels like it's on fire because of it.

But try all you might, you seriously can’t help when it comes to making noise. The stretch his dick gives you burns hot as you lift your hips and arch your back to take more of him, however it feels just as good. He’s going in completely raw and hasn’t even given you any foreplay, and yet your cunt is drenched to the brink of embarrassment from just kissing him; walls eager to be stroked and spoiled by the love of his fat cock.

Perhaps you’re wet and ready because you’re not supposed to be doing this. Because you’re not supposed to know how your stepbrother’s cock feels inside you, and yet here you are: a naughty, dirty girl squeaking and whimpering like a slut from feeling so full with it.

“Fucking prancin’ ‘round in those shorts like you own the place,” he says, his voice low and dangerous like the rumble of thunder before a storm. “Testin’ me all the fuckin’ time… God, you're such a bad little sister.”

Excuse his lack of manners, but Obito is nearly losing his mind above you from having to call you such a filthy term, as well as how you react to it the way you do. His hand is shaking as it grips the back of your neck the moment he at long last manages to bottom out within you, and as the waistband of the grey sweatpants, that he still has hanging loosely around his hips, struggles to stay in place with the single, harsh thrust he gives you now.

The push makes the tip of his cock shove past that barrier of tight muscles that’s protecting your cervix, making it too painful for you to endure. Jesus, he’s massive. So thick and heavy inside you, that you’re starting to feel like you’re going to die the most blissful death known to humankind if he doesn't start to move soon.

Your head shoots up at the sensation; at the pang of ache that makes your eyes cross so intensely that those begin to hurt, too. You’re lucky - so damn lucky that he’s smart enough to cover your mouth with his hand the moment a high-pitched scream bubbles up your throat and slips right past your adorably ‘o’ shaped mouth.

The salt of your tears drips down to his knuckles. Trickles right to his wrist.

“Hah… You’re-... Mmh.” He laughs now - laughs as he watches you squirm and writhe underneath him; plump ass jiggling and bumping against his abdomen just like he’s imagined it would as he pulls back and slams right back home inside your adorable cunt again. He can see the glimmer of slick and can hear the squelch. God, you’re like a porn star, but better.

And he's like a bear; so big and strong to hold you in place as he paws at your tight body.

Obito wants to tell you that you feel good, he truly does. He wants to tell you that you look so fucking pretty like this: all disheveled and sweaty and panting as you keep squeezing his dick and leaking warm, milky arousal all over it just because he’s inside, inside, inside, but he simply can’t. He can’t even form words from how overwhelmed he feels, much less fathom the entire situation and if it truly is happening.

So he shows you instead.

He shows you by fucking you into the mattress the moment you stop crying; with his massive hand clamping over your mouth the entire time as his fingers painfully prod at your gums in-between every thrust. He shows you with the swing of his hips, with the way his cock forces its way into you nice and hard and deep. With his heavy panting to brush against your earlobe with every ragged breath, and every incoherent mumble of a particularly nasty curse you’ve never heard him use before.

Obito gives you his all - well, as much as he’s able to without waking the entire goddamn house, though he still makes you sweat and cry and drool and gush during the entirety of it. How his hips drill into your own is mind-numbing and dopamine-inducing. You’re literally not able to think straight from the way he’s pounding into you now - even less capable of collecting your fuzzy mind into something decent.

“You ain’t my sister,” he mumbles at some point whilst you’re orgasming and spilling your love all over his cock for a second time in the rough span of ten minutes. The veins atop his knuckles are prominent as he squeezes the back of your neck and smiles against your temple. “You’re my bitch.”

Unbeknownst to you, his gaze glows like embers in the night as he watches your face contort into pure, divine pleasure the moment you sink it further into the bed sheet at the derogatory term. The action just makes you push your ass higher into the air. Your legs are trembling, but you insist on being good for him, just so that he’ll make you cum for a third time.

Still high in the midst of immoral bliss, you fail to notice that he’s already called you his.

Sneaky little Uchiha. So possessive.

#obito #obito uchiha #naruto smut #obito smut #obito x reader #obito x you #obito x y/n

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sebstan2020 · 3 months

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Repaying the Debt

Chapter 1

Violet Williams, a typical rich daddy's girl who did nothing but spend his money and hang our with her girlfriends. Her life couldn't be better. But that all changes when her father gets in trouble with New Yorks biggest and most ruthless mob boss, James Barnes and she finds herself repaying the debt of her father.

Violet sighed heavily, dropping her keys in the small bowl at the front of the house and ripping off her coat. It was a freezing cold night; the winter evenings are now coming into full term, and she made a mental note to put on a scarf and hat tomorrow. Although she drove tonight, the short walk to her car easily froze her face. The warmth of the house ate her up quickly, as she shredded her heels and went straight to the kitchen. She was dying of thirst due to the white wine drying out her mouth. The icy water ran from the fridge, filling up her glass, and she gulped it down, biting through the sensitivity on her teeth, which sent a shiver through her body.

She had just come back from dinner with the girls. Eating at one of New York's top restaurants, the cheapest thing on the menu was the bread and olives, which cost $20. She was dressed in a beautiful cream dress paired with clear heels, showing off her beautifully manicured French toes that matched her fingernails and her silky smooth and glowy skin, along with her long trench coat and Michael Kors bag. Her long blonde hair was blown out to perfection, her bangs rolled forward, framing her face, and her lips were glossy with the Dior lip gloss she kept in her purse. She was a typical rich girl, throwing money wherever she wanted. Thanks to her father, she’d probably never have to work again. Her father gave her whatever money she wanted to spend on whatever she liked. You could say she was a spoiled little brat, but her friends were just the same.

She took a deep breath, placing the glass down on the counter, and silence filled the kitchen. Only then did she hear the voice of her father, coming from the living room. It was more hushed than normal, as if he were on the phone with someone. It is most likely a business call. Her father was a busy man. Being a congressman for the New York district, John Williams was constantly on calls, meetings, and business trips; it often felt like Violet rarely got to see him. They rarely got to spend time together with him being at work all day. But he was all she had. Her brother had moved to Canada with his wife, leaving the two of them back home. You’d think that at the age she was and the money she had, she'd move out. But she was the only person he had left, and being the daughter of a high government official came with the possibility of getting hurt by people who didn't agree with John. There were some pretty weird people out there. She was unfortunate to lose her mother at the tender age of 10. A gun shot. She was driving home late one night, and a couple of thugs pulled her over, attempting to steal her purse and any other goods in the car. It ended in blood and tears. The funeral was the hardest thing for Violet. There were so many people there that she didn’t know, and all she wanted was her mom back.

Her father vowed to keep his children safe and ensure that something like this never happened again. The other congressmen were kind enough to attend the funeral, offering their support and kindness, which John greatly appreciated. But as Violet grew up, she found her father becoming more distant from work, constantly on a call or meeting, sinking himself in deeper every day to distract himself from the thought of losing his wife, his best friend.

As Violet padded over to the living room, she could hear more of his hushed voice and pacing, his shoes scuffing on the carpet as if he wasn’t picking up his feet enough. He must be stressed.

"Yeah, I know, I know,” he whispered harshly, and Violet peaked around the corner. Normally, he wasn’t this cold on the phone to his fellow congressman’s. Perhaps it was a personal call.

"No, I will get it, I promise,” he grumbled, pacing back and forth.

"Look, just give me some more time; I can get it to you by Friday,” he assured, and Violet furrowed her brows.

"No, please, look, let me see what I can do,” he pleaded almost.

"Thanks,” he sighed, and aggressively hung up the phone, throwing it to the sofa and sighing heavily, rubbing his face. Violet took a second to step out, not wanting it to look like she was overhearing.

“Hey daddy,” she said softly, and he turned, smiling as he met eyes with his daughter. She was the spitting image of her mother, with long blonde hair, bangs that framed her face, sparkling blue eyes with a hint of green, and perfect lips and cheek bones. Anytime John looked at her, she reminded him of his.

“Hi sweetheart, I didn’t hear you come in,” he sighed with a forced smile.

“Everything okay?” She asked, and he nodded. His shirt was ruffled, and the tie was hanging loosely around his neck. The collar was turned up, and the buttons were opened. The sweat was dripping down his face, like he was nervous.

“Yeah, just a work call; you know how things get,” he said simply, and Violet wasn’t too sure to believe him or not. But she rarely got involved in his work. The government was a complicated subject, one she didn’t quite understand despite her father telling her about it so many times. The number of people in that one building was hard to keep track of by itself, as was the amount of legislation and bills being passed every day.

“Oh well, I hope it all is okay,” she said sweetly, crashing down on the sofa, and her dad sighed, placing his hands on his hips and nodding.

“Me too… How was your dinner?” he asked.

“It was lovely; the girls and I had a good catch-up. I think I'm going to go run a bath and relax now," she said, pushing herself off the sofa to make her way upstairs.

"Alright, sweetheart," he said, but he wasn't with it. He looked to the floor nervously, sweat adorning his face.

"Are you sure you're okay, dad?" She asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, its nothing to worry about," he shrugged and quickly passed her, making his way to the kitchen. Violet furrowed her brows and wanted to chase after him, but it was clear he didn't want to talk right now.

Heading up the large stariscase, which curled around and led to a long hallway with many rooms—five bedrooms and a bathroom, to be exact—Violet made her way into her bedroom and immediately into the en-suit. Every bedroom had its own bathroom plus an extra one. The house was magnificent, with a huge living room and kitchen, a garden that reached around ten acres of land, a swimming pool and hot tub, an office, and a library. Of course, the house was given to them by the government, and they didn't have to pay a penny. There was no way she was leaving this all behind.

Violet ran the bath, filling it with steaming hot water, and dunked herself in, relaxing instantly. The sweet aromas from the bath salts sent her into a daze as the hot water relaxed her muscles. She dipped her head back, the hot water encasing her in a blanket of warmth. Her mind had completely forgotten about her dad and the mystery call he was on.

padding back into the bedroom dressed in her white fluffy robe, she dried her hair and applied some skincare to her face before jumping into the king-sized bed and pulling out her laptop. A little shopping was in order after an exhausting day of errands and chatting with her girlfriends. As if she needed anything more. Her walk-in wardrobe was practically full; her draws of endless makeup were overflowing, and she was losing space to put her shoes up. But she just couldn't help herself. She was a girl who liked to treat herself.

Anyone else would call her a selfish brat who enjoyed showing off how rich she was. She wasn't even earning the money; it all came from her father. But in her eyes, she didn't see that. You could say she was a bit of a clueless girl, with no awareness around her, like a fairy in a make-believe world. With her pretty looks and sweet voice, she could get anything she wanted. She enjoyed spending money, hanging with her girls, and doing anything but work. But that was soon going to change.

The streets of Manhattan were busy this morning, and Violet strutted down the street, her phone glued to her ear and a bag hanging from her elbow. She was the only one wearing a pair of sunglasses in the winter—the ones that cost her over $300. She was like a needle in a haystack, standing out from the crowd of grumbling New Yorkers, dressed in puffer jackets and long trench coats, all black and grey, and her dressed in white.

"Yes, I'll meet you at the manor at seven," she said into the phone, chatting with her friend Michelle.

"I have so much to tell you tonight," Michelle bragged on the other end, and Violet grinned, practically squealing at the thought of them gossping.

"I can't wait, ahh." She was suddenly cut off from her conversation when something tall and heavy bumped straight into her, knocking her off her balance, and she crashed into the wall next to her. It was clearly a man, and she glared up with a scoff. The man was quick to barge past, keeping his head down. The only thing she had on him was his long black coat, a pair of dress trousers, and dress shoes, but she didn't catch his face. He didn't even bother to say sorry. But in this city, it was a common thing, and she didn't think much of it.

The sound of Michelle calling her name could be heard through the phone, and Violet sighed, placing it back in her ear and heading down the street. "Sorry, someone bumped into me."

That evening, Violet got herself ready for drinks. They were going to a cute cocktail bar where the cocktails alone were $30. She was in need of good gossip with Michelle, another rich and pretty girl with a high-earning father. She dressed in a black dress, reaching just above her knees, with black high-heeled boots. Her pants were pushed up, showing off her slim figure, and she curled her hair, the blonde strands cascading down her back. A light layer of makeup and a spritz of Chanel perfume, and she was ready to hit the town. Pairing her dress with her long black fur coat, she carefully made her way downstairs and looked for her father.

He was in the living room, typing furiously on his keyboard, and a bottle of Scotch was beside him. His shirt was undone once again, and the tie and jacket were flung on the back of the plush chair he was sitting in.

"I'm going out now, dad; I'll be back around ten," she shrugged, and he looked up from his screen.

"Alright, sweetheart, be careful," he warned, and she smiled.

"I will," she said in a sing-song voice. He was so protective of her that if anything happened to her, it would kill him.

The night was freezing. The trees were already starting to get a frost on them, and the path was getting icy. She took her time walking to the bar, careful not to slip over. She wished she had driven, or at least asked her dad to drop her off, but she knew if she drove, she could only have one, or not even that. The drinks here in New York were strong, and it didn't take her long to get drunk. a couple down that hatch, and she would feel the buzz.

The neighbourhood to get to the manor was quiet, and there was barely anyone around. It was unusual to see a New York street so quiet, but that's exactly where they were. The peace and quiet meant there weren't many neighbours, and even the ones that were around kept to themselves. a classic rich people's street, you could say.

As she turned the corner, she noticed a car up ahead, parked on the path. Two tall men stood by it, dressed in long black coats. Her heels clicked on the concrete floor, grabbing the men's attention, and one of them turned, noticing her presence. Violet tried to keep her head down, but the man had already jumped in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. She was hoping she wouldn't get stopped by them, but that hope had gone out the window.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me. We're trying to get to Brooklyn, but I think we took the wrong turn, and we're a bit lost. I was wondering if you could help us." he smiled. It was hard to make out his features, but from what she could see, he had dark hair that was slightly on the longish side, brushed back behind his ears. a muzzle of a beard around his jaw and soft, perky lips. He had a dazzling smile with perfectly straight white teeth. There was a rich scent of colonge that was overpowering, and his voice was smooth and sexy.

"Oh, um... sure," she shrugged. She didn't want to be rude and walk away without at least trying to help them, and he guided her over to the car, where on top of the hood was a large map.

"We're from out of town, you see?" he chuckled softly. Violet hugged her bag closely to her, a sudden fear that perhaps these guys were looking for a chance to mug her. She stood by the car, staring down at the map, but, in total honesty, she had no idea what she was looking at.

"Um, well," she glanced at the map, but it wasn't making any sense to her.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not that good with directions. If you have maps on your phone, though, you can get to Broolyn that way," she pointed out, and the man chuckled. It was a pretty obvious answer, which anyone could come up with.

"You see, we are trying to get to Brooklyn, Bushwick; we have an important meeting there that we can't be late for," the man explained.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure; you're asking the wrong person here." She shrugged, hoping she could step away and get away from these two strangers.

"Alright, well, thank you for your help, Violet," he said, and she froze, looking up with wide eyes and parted lips. Surely he didn't just say her name. How could he know? She didn't even introduce herself.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" She nervously laughed.

"I said thank you, Violet." He turned to her, staring down at her with a soft smile on his lips. Violet hugged her bag closer, pressing her legs firmly together.

"How do you know my name?" She asked nervously, her voice cracking a little. She was starting to think she shouldn't have stopped and helped them. She was wishing she had just kept on walking and ignored them. She was hoping this was some crazy dream and she'd wake up with none of it being real.

"Everyone knows your name; your father is Congressman John William's, isn't he?" The man turned to face her, leaning on the car as he stared down. Violet was in shock, and she swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. It wasn't uncommon for people to know who she was because of her father, but the coincidence of having bumped into these two random strangers and him instantly knowing who she was was a little too scary for her. She knew this was dangerous and had to escape this encounter.

"I was hoping you'd be able to help me tonight," he tutted, his voice slightly lower. Violet took another deep breath and mustered all the courage she could.

"Unfortunatly, I can't help you with your directions; you'll have to find someone else. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be." She turned on her heel to walk away, but the other tall man stood in front of her, blocking her escape. He had shorter hair than the first man, slightly on the blonder side, and a heavier beard. Violet swallowed, her heart thumping inside her chest, her stomach turning into a tight ball of nerves, and she stepped back out of intimidation.

She turned her head over her shoulder, staring up at the man behind her, fear in her eyes as he took a step closer, closing her in, his hand resting on the top of the car. A glint from the street lamp showed off a bright, shiny ring on his thumb. She shuddered, and then everything happened so quickly.

A slam into the car door, a yelp from her lungs, her bag thrown to the floor. the rattle of cuffs and clicks locking them. a muffled yelp from the piece of fabric tied tightly around her mouth and the whimper of being thrown in the trunk. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and her ankles were cuffed as well. The man stood tall, his head slightly tilted up as he herested his hand on the edge of the boot door.

"If I were you, I'd get comfortable; it's going to be a long ride," he said with order in his tone, his eyes lazily on her. Violet clamped her teeth down on the tight frabic cutting into her mouth, and the clack of the cuffs could be heard as she fought against them even though there was no escape. The second man appeared next to him, rolling up what looked like a black hood and quickly yanking it over her head, pulling her into darkness. The last thing she heard was the slam of the boot door and the sound of her own cries.

Chapter 2

Hey I hope you like the first chapter of my new story, let me know in the comments what you think and also if you want to be tagged.

@charmed-asylum

@pattiemac1

@thischubbydumpling

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@kandis-mom

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes smut #mafia bucky barnes #mob boss bucky barnes #dom bucky barnes

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lunar-years · 8 months

Note

do you have any hurt/comfort jamie fic recs? looking for physical injury in particular, but i’m a sucker for emotional hurt/comfort too :)

of course! here u go

Gen -

held onto hope (like a noose, like a rope) by scarlettroses - tw James Tartt Sr. abuse; emotional hurt/comfort and it's heavy but it's so good! Jamie's dad is very ill and Roy & Keeley etc. help him through that.

My troubles are all over, and I am at home by Vamillepudding - tw James Tartt Sr./canon-typical abuse; canon divergence where Roy sees Jamie and his dad in the boot room during the season one finale, instead of Ted

The Hedgehog's Dilemma by @kvetchinglyneurotic - tw James Tartt Sr./canon typical abuse; season one canon divergence where Jamie's dad calls him and insists he come up to Manchester, right after Jamie got benched. Roy worries about where he's at and then we go on a fun speedrun of character development & friendship :)

every emotion that i'm meant to express by @babytarttdoodoo : Jamie has a panic attack during Mom City and Roy & Keeley help him through

Lemons and Lavender by LivingProof - tw James Tartt Sr.; a car accident puts Jamie in the hospital, his dad comes to see him but luckily Roy and Ted are close behind

Roy/Jamie -

I Get By With a Little Help by @belmottetower - tw rape facilitated by James Tartt Sr.; Jamie rape recovery hurt/comfort with, as the tags imply, much more comfort than hurt. There is also a second part with even more comfort :)

Somethin' Stupid by @catalogercas - appendicitis on the bus to an away game! oh no! Not yet complete but chapter 2 of 3 was posted today and it is amazing.

Falling Up by @catalogercas - amnesia!Jamie. all that from doing headers with Phoebe :( it's not super angsty and in fact is very cute. Jamie even meets the yoga mums in the funniest way. incredible content.

i watched the world without knowing what to look for by buckstiel -future fic about the injury that ends Jamie's career

Roy/Jamie/Keeley -

the body of someone you love by @goodmorninglovelies42 - Jamie gets into a minor car accident and needs stitches, Roy does not handle this well

Love Me For Who I Am (Where I Am) by pepperlandgirl4 - Jamie is injured during a match and it results in temporary amnesia shortly after rjk all get together

Chase All The Ghosts From Your Head by @valonia47 - tw for implied homophobia; Jamie is beat up by a crazy City fan at a nightclub with plenty of comfort afterwards from Roy, Keeley & his mum <3

bruised like violets by inlovewithnight - tw stalkers/kidnapping - Jamie gets abducted and it's very scary for everyone involved... but luckily there is a happy ending and lots of comfort! :)

the blood in your mouth, I wish it was mine by inlovewithnight - tw non-con, Rupert Mannion; I feel like i put this on every rec list lmao but i truly do love it. very dark but the rjk comfort is sooooo my everything

they threw me a whirlwild and I spat back the sea by inlovewithnight - tw abuse/semi-graphic description of hand injury; James Tartt Sr.'s mates pay Jamie a visit, Jamie calls Keeley (and by extension, Roy) to help get him to the hospital

no amount of coffee, no amount of crying by shampoobaby - allergies!! classic sickfic, Jamie has hay fever :( poor bb

P.S. If you are one of these authors and I have not tagged your tumblr it simply means I do not know it, but please drop me a comment or message if you'd like and I will update the list with your blog accordingly :)

#tried to keep it mostly physical injury stuff for you but a few emotional hurt comforts snuck in :)#fic recs #jamie tartt #ted lasso #royjamie #royjamiekeeley #hurt/comfort #fic list #asks

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knchins · 2 years

Text

Train to Shibuya - Haitani Brothers

Summary: Unfortunate timing leaves you stuck between two Bonten Executives on a train. They decide to pass the time by having a little fun.

Pairing: Haitani Ran x Reader x Haitani Rindou

Reader Type: AFAB - She/her

Rating: E+

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: chikan, noncon, degradation, intimidation, reader gets tied up, thigh fucking, dacryphilia, vaginal/anal fingering, vaginal/anal sex, double penetration, spit used a lube (do not advise), public sex, voyeurism/exhibitionism, kidnapping, no aftercare

Notes: Crawling out of the woodworks to post this and then slithering back into my hole. Requests are still open!!

It was the same commuter train you took home every day from work. It was usually busy due to many people getting off around the same time, but today the train car seemed even stuffier. Currently, you were stuck holding onto the rail between two men in a back corner. You had hoped to get a seat, but unfortunately, they had all been full. Your ride home was a long one so it would have been nice to maybe drift off for a few minutes before you had to get home and start with housework.

Lately, there had been talk about gropers on the trains, though that wasn’t really anything new. Everyone knew that it happened. The world was crawling with perverts after all. You had never had something like that happen to you personally, even after taking the train twice a day nearly every day for years now.

You figured you were a little too old for most predators. Didn’t they go after school girls mostly? Your eyes scanned the train, trying to see if there were any younger girls on board that may need the help of an adult. School had been out for a few hours now, but there were still club activities and after-school duties that kids participated in that would make them take a later train.

You let out a sigh of relief at seeing that the only other women on the train car were older. You wouldn’t need to play hero today. The man in front of you seemed to move closer, almost as if someone had bumped into him. You couldn’t stop your eyes from looking upward to see his striped lilac and dark purple hair, along with a tattoo on his throat.

Suddenly your mouth went dry at the look he was giving you. His violet eyes swept over your body as if he could see through your clothing. You shifted your weight uneasily before letting out a squeak of surprise as you felt a hand move up your skirt and squeeze your ass.

You put a hand over your mouth, your face now on fire with the feeling of embarrassment. Did anyone hear you? Did they see? You looked at the man in front of you again, realizing his one free hand was in his suit pocket. The other was holding onto the railing above your head. He leaned forward, a playful look on his face, “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

Then you remembered where you had seen the symbol on the tattoo before. It was on every executive Bonten member. Not only was he in a gang but he was very high up. You tried to move backward, only to accidentally press yourself against the guy behind you. You quickly turned around, wanting to see who had grabbed you, only to see another purple-haired man with a matching Bonten tattoo. Though his hair was longer and he was slightly shorter, they looked rather similar and you wondered briefly if they were related.

The shorter man quirked an eyebrow at you, almost daring you to accuse him of anything. He seemed more stoic of the two, though obviously more brazen if he was bold enough to grope you on a crowded train.

“I don’t want any trouble.” You murmured, your voice shaking as your felt your hands become sweaty with anxiety. Maybe if you were kind to them, they’d leave you alone.

“Hear that, brother?” The man behind you breathed over your shoulder as you felt a hard something against your backside, “little princess doesn’t want any trouble.”

So they were brothers, you thought to yourself. That somehow made the situation even worse. What type of brothers did this kind of thing together? You watched in horror as Rindou took out a switchblade and cut off the first two buttons of your blouse, watching them fall to the floor with a nearly inaudible ping.

Your eyes scanned the crowd for anyone to cry out for. They all seemed to be making a point to not look in your direction, averting their eyes less they feel the wrath of a Bonten executive. It was clear no one was going to help you and the knife now slicing away at your bra made you even more hesitant to try and ask for any.

“Scream all you want,” The man cutting away at your clothes said, “no one here can save you.”

Ran was busy unzipping his zipper and pulling out his hard cock, teasing himself with a few strokes before probing your thighs that were tightly clenched together. You could tell what it was, despite the fact that your back is turned to him. It was undeniable that his penis was now pushing through your soft thighs as you attempted to squeeze him out.

The stiffening of your muscles only made the area tighter around his dick, earning a strange sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a moan. While he was rutting into your thighs, spreading his precum along the inside of them, the other brother was taking out your breasts. He painfully pinched your nipples, twisting them to see how much it’d make you squirm. Fear rattled your spine and made you unable to make any kind of sound of protest. You were so scared that if you said something then they’d just kill you. It wasn’t as if anyone there would testify against who you believed to be the infamous Haitani brothers.

Rindou ignored what his brother was doing as he continued to fondle your breasts, your nipples becoming hard at the stimulation despite your inner plea for your body to not respond to these monsters. Even worse, you could feel yourself getting wetter, the friction on your clit from the flushed head of Ran’s dick rubbing against it was turning you on.

Your legs began to shake as you let go of the railing in an attempt to push Rindou away. He merely smirked before taking off his tie and tying your wrists together, securing them to the railing above your head so that you wouldn’t be able to hit either of them. The more you yanked at the bindings, the tighter they seemed to become. A whimper of defeat left you as your hips accidentally shifted against Ran to feel that jolt of pleasure when your clit rubbed against him once more. A misplaced moan pushed passed your lips, only to the delighted ears of the gang members assaulting you.

“What kind of slut gets off of this shit?” Ran asked. He was more amused than angry. It was hard to tell though by his tone of voice. You wanted to protest but worried that if you did then it would only make the situation worse. Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt Rindou cut away at your underwear, exposing your vulva for all the passengers to see. He stuffed the ripped fabric into his pants pocket as he spun you back around to face his older brother.

You kept your eyes closed as you felt two thin fingers probe your clit before diving into your pussy. A small whimper left your lips as you tried to push him out, but instead, he only found the action to be more inviting. “Fuck, she’s tight.” He said in a lazy tone, his fingers moving slowly as his thumb found your clit once more and rubbed circles around the swelling bud.

“How wet are your fingers right now?” Rindou asked, a sadistic edge to his voice as you felt the flat part of the blade smack your ass. You were terrified to move, despite the sparks of exhilaration Ran’s fingers were giving you. Determination filled you to not give in and to not let them see that you were finding any sort of pleasure in this.

That determination was chipped away when Ran answered, “waterlogged.” He joked as he pulled out the two digits to show Rindou the trail of slick between them. Rindou smirked as he smacked your ass with the knife’s side once more. He put it away before taking your backside into his hands and lifting you up as Ran grabbed your thighs to spread them open.

A mixture of Ran’s pre-cum and your arousal coated your upper thighs. You began to squirm, only to feel the rough bite of Rindou’s fingernails on the flesh of your ass. The sharp zing of pain had you still a moment later as you looked upon Ran’s throbbing cock with terrified eyes.

A playful smirk was on his face as he held himself at the base of his penis and guided it into your twitching hole. You wished you could stop yourself from reacting and that you could force him out completely. However just like with his fingers it was impossible. Your plush wet walls clamping down around him only made him let out a satisfied groan. It was a tight but perfect fit. Almost as if you had been made for him personally. Thoughts of keeping you captive after this little ride was starting to worm their way into his head.

Before you could even get used to one intrusion, you felt Rindou shift his grip. He stuck two fingers into his mouth to coat them in spit before ramming them into your other hole, the pain of which actually made you cry out as you tried to kick Ran away from you.

He let out a sadistic laugh as he squeezed your thighs so hard that you knew they’d bruise. There was no way to get him away from you now as he buried his cock into the hilt. It pulsated inside of you as Rindou moved his fingers vigorously to loosen you up. “P-Please,” You murmured as tears slipped down your face, “Please stop.”

Ran licked the tears off your face, enjoying the salty taste before biting your neck harder than you could handle. “How’s her ass?” He asked as he pulled away, not caring about any sounds of protest you continued to make.

“As slutty as her pussy.” Rindou replied as he took out his fingers and pulled out his own dick. He spat into his hand, running it along his shaft to coat it with as much moisture as he could. Then he pressed his tip to your asshole before thrusting into it without any sort of care.

You let out another cry of pain, noticing some of the men on the train glancing to watch what was happening to you. Their hands palming themselves through their pants discretely. Your hips jerked in a feeble attempt to dislodge them from you, but instead, it only brought them more pleasure.

The brothers synced themselves perfected. As one pushed in the other was pulling out, sometimes sloppily doing it at the same time in a way that had you feeling like you might rip apart at the seams. The pain was fading as was your resolve as inhibition began to take over.

Ran pressed your clit with his thumb and you moved your hips to grind against his. Their two cocks were filling you to the brim, but somehow you began to find pleasure in it. They began to move faster, moving out of time with one another as they both chased their own high but not before a rush of adrenaline and endorphins crashed through you as you hit your peak.

You whimpered as Ran wiped more tears from your face, “What a good girl.” He murmured before grunting as he came. Rindou came soon after him, mumbling something about how he was going to make you their personal cum dump. They pulled out and left you dripping sticky semen out of both holes.

Heavy breaths were coming out of your mouth as you slowly drifted down from your high. Your vision was spinning as your legs quaked beneath you. One of the untied your wrists, but you weren’t sure who, no longer coherent after being stuffed by two gangsters.

The train came to a stop, almost making you fall. Ran picked you up, careful not to get any mess on his designer suit. “Didn’t I tell you to stop bringing the strays home?” Rindou asked, hiding his amusement so that he only sounded annoyed with his brother.

“Pussy like this is too good to let go.” Ran said with a lazy grin, winking down at you as he carried you off the train with his brother in tow. From then on out you became the Haitani brother’s personal fuck toy, pampered with all the riches and sex you could ever possibly want.

Cross-posted on AO3 under Shisotired.

2K notes · View notes

illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

Text

babies and bahrain | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 4.4 words request: yes, by anons: "hii bestie can i get a fic where the reader and charles are guardians of their godchild and on the child calls them mommy and daddy for the first time? i love your writing btw I’ve been binge reading your fics." & "hii can i request a soft fluffy charles fic? i love your writing style 💕" & "hello! can we have a imagine with reader and charles with a long term relationship at bahrain gp 2022? 🥺" warnings: kids, fluff, angst, death(mentioned only), car crash (mentioned only), language (like one or two), hospitals. a/n: i am finally posting something. i've been hating everything i write lately, but hopefully it's only temporary because i want to work on something to celebrate when we (hopefully soon) hit 3k. literally can't believe i'm typing that. we're so close to three thousand, what the fuck. also, i have no idea how the legal system works, let's remember that this is all fiction, please.

my masterlist

the moment violet was born, you and charles fell in love with her. the first few months of her life you would visit the new parents every chance you could. caroline and nolan were close friends of charles, and they instantly welcomed you into their group when you and charles started dating. charles loved violet, he’d always get her every baby-related thing he saw wherever he went. dolls, princess onesies, toys, anything that reminded him of her.

you were the same, offering to babysit when your friends wanted some alone time, or wanted to go out for a date. often, the five of you would go out to kid-friendly spots.

‘violet needs to spend time with her favorite aunt and uncle’, charles would say. every chance he got, she was in his arms. caroline would always laugh, chastise him and tell him she would get used to being carried. 'good thing i have strong arms, then.' he'd reply, pressing his forehead against the baby's head.

it wasn't a surprise when you and charles were asked to be her godparents, but you were still over the moon when you arrived at their house and saw violet wearing a shirt that read ‘will you be my godparents?’. you and charles hugged the -then- six-month-old baby and her parents, promising to take care of her as much as you could.

the day everything changed, it started just like any other. you were in italy with charles, he had some duties at the ferrari museum in maranello, so you took the day to explore the city, seeing ferrari plastered on almost every wall. you entered a small shop and were instantly drawn to a plushie of a cat. violet loved cats. well, they didn’t have any pets, but everytime she saw one on tv she always yelled in delight. you picked it up and paid for it, walking to the museum to wait for charles.

you had a special badge around your neck, so security let you through without too much trouble. you sat on a bench outside, grabbing your phone to check if you had missed anything. you were scrolling mindlessly when you saw an unknown number calling. you recognized the area code as one in france. you frowned but picked up anyway.

you’d always wondered how you’d act in case of an emergency. you’d seen so many tv shows and movies where the characters ran through the hospital, some screaming, asking where their loved ones were, others in shock. you never thought, never hoped, to be in that position one day.

your heart was beating fast, pounding inside your chest as you held onto charles’ hand. he was almost running, following the signs until he reached a nurse station.

in shock. in case of an emergency, you were the one in shock. your eyes were glossy as you let charles guide you to the icu, you could hear him mumbling under his breath, but couldn’t understand what he was saying. you could see the automatic doors that led to the icu, you gripped charles’ hand before walking in, making him halt his steps.

he turned to look at you, he had small tears in the corners of his eyes. you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down and hiding your face in his neck. the tears fell freely, you could feel his chest shaking as well.

“we have to go in,” charles said, still holding on to your waist. you nodded but didn’t let go of him. “we-we have to find out how they are, and-”

an unmistakable soft whimper made its way into your ears, charles paused mid-sentence and you both turned your heads to the side.

“violet!” charles said, you both ran to the woman who was carrying your goddaughter. ten-month-old violet’s eyes were wide open, you could see the terrified look on her face as she was in a completely unknown place with strangers. “is she okay?” he asked.

“she’s alright. she’s been checked by the pediatricians and everything seems fine,” she gave you a small smile, “i’m the social worker in charge of the case, who are you?” she asked.

“we’re violet’s godparents,” charles said, gripping your hand. your arms ached, longing to hold her in your safe embrace.

“w-why do they need a social worker?” you asked, placing your free hand on charles' arm. the social worker was about to speak when violet started crying. charles took a step, and violet leaned forward as well. charles took his goddaughter from the social worker's arms, and for the first time since you got that awful call, you let out a deep breath, knowing that violet was finally safe. you seemed to forget that there was someone else present, at that moment, all your focus was on violet, on the way she clung onto the both of you, her godparents, the only people she had left in the world now.

nolan and caroline didn’t have any direct family, but they had each other. and they had you and charles.

“can we see them?” you asked, violet was playing with your finger. “is- is caroline still in surgery?” the social worker didn’t know how to answer, she walked to the nurse station right outside the intensive care unit, where you’d heard they were keeping nolan. you followed her, your gaze flickering between violet, charles, and the social worker. the look on the latter’s face didn’t make you feel reassured.

“when can we see them?” charles asked again, a bit too loud than he intended, causing violet to flinch. charles handed her to you, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“only family is allowed in, and-”

“we’re family. we’re all the family they have,” charles interrupted.

you were told to wait, you sat on two uncomfortable chairs, holding violet in your arms. the social worker was standing in front of you.

“did you ever discuss what would happen with violet in case…” she started, you both froze.

“w-why are you saying that?” you asked, looking from her, to charles.

“the doctor is coming, he will fill you in on their condition, but… we need to know their wishes about violet’s future in case they don’t… you know,”

“we’ll take care of her,” charles said, without wasting a second, without any doubt. “that’s what we signed up for when we agreed to be her godparents. to take care and be there for her whenever,” he told her. then, he looked at you, you nodded your head, taking his hand in yours.

“we will take care of her, no matter what happens.”

the next few days went by in a blur. you felt so many emotions at the same time. grief, pain, fear, helplessness. you’d had to do so many things in just a few days. saying goodbye to your friends was probably the hardest. even though the doctors tried their best to save both of them, their injuries from the car crash were too much.

your full focus was on violet. you pushed aside your feelings and grief to focus on the little baby you’d now found yourself in charge of. you’d gotten in contact with a lawyer, who promised to help you as much as she could to get violet’s custody. you didn’t know if you were mentally prepared to take care of a child, but you weren’t alone. charles wanted this as much as you did, it was what you’d signed up for, as he said.

you’d recruited the rest of your friend group to look for a will or a document that stated their wishes for violet’s custody, but found nothing. you never talked about that topic, you were all way too young, you still had plenty of time you think about the future. or at least, you should’ve.

the second night after the funeral, violet was sleeping in the crib you’d bought a day before, next to your bed. you were lying on your side, your eyes were closed but you couldn’t sleep. you turned so your back was against the mattress, you looked up at the ceiling and sighed. you felt charles moving beside you, you turned your head to see him looking at you.

“did i wake you?” you whispered, he shook his head, giving you a small smile. you got closer to him, resting your head on his chest. you both stayed quiet, you could feel his fingers playing with your hair. “do you think we can do this?” you asked after a few seconds of silence.

“i don’t know,” he said, and even though it wasn’t the answer most people would’ve wanted, you felt comfort in knowing that he was just as nervous as you. “but i don’t want violet to go away, not when we can give her everything she needs,” he continued. “it will be difficult for all of us, but violet needs us,”

“of course. i want her with us as well, but are we ready for this change?”

“we have to be, there’s no turning back now. but hey, we’re in this together, okay? we got each other. it will take a little while to get used to a new routine, but we can do this, alright?” he said, grabbing your hand and lifting it up to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles. “we got this,” he nodded his head. you looked up at him, kissing his cheek.

a month passed, violet was still in your care whilst you were going through the adoption process. and now more than ever, you were sure that you were ready to give the little baby everything she might need. each day you spent with her you fell even more in love with her, you didn't know how it was possible, but she brightened up your day, she had taught you so much already.

of course, the first few weeks were messy, having to adjust to the presence of violet in your lives 24/7. there were nights when you thought you couldn't do it, nights when violet stayed up almost all night, crying uncontrollably, and you knew that the one thing she needed were her parents. you'd cry with her, sometimes.

one particular night, charles wasn't home, he'd traveled to paris, violet’s hometown and the place where all the legal process was taking place. you’d put violet down to sleep, since it was past her bedtime. you sat on a stool in the kitchen, replying to a text charles had sent. turns out, things were going to be a little more complicated than you had first thought. as you sent the text, you received a call from him.

"hi, love," you said, propping your phone against a napkin holder to see him better. he was sitting on a chair in his hotel room, you figured he must’ve made the call from his laptop, since you could see a mess of documents littering a wooden table.

“hey,” he sighed, you frowned.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, “didn’t get good news today?” you leaned your chin on your fist, your elbow propped on the kitchen island.

“no,” he shook his head, running his hands through his hair. you could see the dark circles under his eyes. “they said that- in order to adopt we-” he sighed before continuing, “at least one of us has to be twenty-eight years old, we have to be married- or prove that we’ve been together for a couple of years, and-” he rambled, you stopped him.

“hey, hey, slow down,” you said, watching as he shook his head in desperation. “charles, i know it looks like we might be in a gray area right now, but we have time. as long as violet can stay in our care, we have time to make sure every requirement is in order. we’re working with the best of the best, we’re all doing what we can. as long as we have violet’s custody, we’ll be okay,”

the morning of violet’s first birthday, you woke up extra early, wanting to surprise her. you went downstairs and started hanging decorations, balloons, colored strings, everything you’d bought a few days ago. once everything was finished, you checked her room to make sure she was still asleep, taking the baby monitor with you to the bathroom.

you’d always loved the luxury of taking long, warm showers, but now, with a kid under your care, you’d learned to shower in less than ten minutes. you did your hair in a comfortable way, and threw on some joggers and one of charles’ shirts, walking to violet’s room once you heard her moving around.

“good morning, princess!” you smiled, seeing violet standing up, holding herself up with her fists around the crib. “oh, you’re a big girl now, aren’t you?” you laughed as you approached her, running your hands through her hair, getting the curls away from her face. “you’re going to start walking any day now, miss,” she smiled, bending her knees in excitement, trying to jump as she giggled.

you held her in your arms, pressing soft kisses to the side of her head, to her cheek, her forehead. one of your arms was supporting her under her bum, you noticed that she was in desperate need of a diaper change, but you ignored that at that moment. your other hand was on her back, keeping her close to your chest. you’d installed black-out curtains in her room, to make sure she got as much sleep as possible in the mornings.

“happy first birthday, violet,” you whispered in her ear.

right then, with the little bit of sunlight peeking in through the curtains, for the first time, you felt like her mother. it wasn’t anything extraordinary, that was how you greeted her every morning, but that, you figured, was the beauty of motherhood. finding the special in the most simple and ordinary moments.

you looked up at the ceiling, feeling your eyes starting to burn as they filled with tears. maybe you didn’t have nolan and caroline anymore, but you had violet. and you promised to love her and protect her, raise and cherish her just as much as they would’ve done, had they had the chance.

violet lifted her arm, without measuring her strength, she moved it towards you, hitting you on your face. that brought you out of your thoughts. you laughed as you looked down at her, walking to the changing table you’d set up, you placed her down and changed her.

about thirty minutes later, you heard the front door opening and closing, you’d stayed upstairs with violet, waiting for charles to get there. he was in charge of setting up all of her presents, the ones you’d approved, and the ones charles secretly bought when you fell asleep that night a few weeks ago.

you were on the floor, playing with violet as you two heard the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. you looked at violet, who was still holding the bright yellow lego, but her eyes were now stuck to the opened door of her bedroom. you pulled out your phone, recording her curious face as her eyes widened in anticipation.

“who’s that?” you asked. you held back a laugh as charles finally appeared in her line of sight.

“where’s the birthday girl?” charles said, kneeling down, he spread his arms to the sides, watching as violet first started crawling her way to him, but then, she stopped. she kept her hands on the floor as she planted her feet on the floor. charles’ eyes widened, you’d told him that violet was standing up, but he hadn’t had the chance to see her.

instantly, you both leaned closer to her, your were both ready to step in and catch her if she couldn’t keep her balance. but, she stood up, she straightened her back as you and charles held your breaths, and then, she took her first steps, rushing to charles’ awaiting arms.

this all happened in a matter of seconds, but to you, it felt like the clock slowed down, like she was moving in slow motion.

her loud squeals brought you back to reality, you saw charles holding her against his chest, still kneeling on the floor.

“oh, you did so good, violet! that’s my big girl,” charles kissed her temple, “i missed you so much. i was gone for a week, and now you’re walking?” he continued talking to her, you stopped recording, placing your phone in the pocket of your sweatpants, kneeling next to your loves. “i thought she was just starting to stand up?” charles asked, you nodded.

“those were her first steps,” you said, voice a little groggy as you kept your eyes on violet, who was playing with charles’ hair, grabbing fistfuls and tugging lightly.

“first steps… first birthday…” charles counted, throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you close to him. you leaned your head against his shoulder, and violet stopped what she was doing to look at you two.

she was still standing up, charles had a hand on her back to help her up. she looked back and forth from you two, the smiles on your faces were so wide that your cheeks were starting to hurt.

“da!” she said, dropping down to her bum, crawling away, leaving you both speechless.

“first word?” charles breathed, you frowned.

“is ‘da’ even a word?” you asked, mostly annoyed because it was a word that resembled ‘dad’.

“in baby language, i think it is,” he smiled smugly, you rolled your eyes as you turned to violet, picking her up.

“hey, baby. say ‘ma’,” you instructed, violet stayed quiet, then, she opened her mouth.

“da!” she repeated, you sighed, kissing her cheek before passing her off to charles. “da!” she said as she looked at charles.

“yeah, that’s her first word,” you laughed, admitting defeat.

six months later, you and violet slipped through the crowd of people, sneaking your way to the ferrari motorhome. it was the first race of the season, and you had to admit, you missed being there.

you’d been with charles for what felt like forever at that point, coming close to eight years. you’d met, fallen in love and started dating as teenagers, and you’d been there every step of his career. your relationship was one that the public had always been curious of, given that you were both extremely private and cautious with what you let the rest of the world see. when you stopped attending the races for almost half of the year last year, people had started wondering if you’d split up. but as you walked with violet in your arms, charles’ hand around your shoulders, that was a clear statement.

you were scared of attending a race with violet, but you were a family now, and you needed to support charles, you knew he needed you there. you were going to stay inside the ferrari hospitality the entire time, away from the cameras and public. you were inside charles’ room, playing with violet whilst he got ready.

violet was starting to speak a bit more, so most of your time was spent over-pronouncing easy words in hopes to get her to repeat them. she was a smart girl. after having her first birthday, first steps and first word all in the same day, you knew you had a little genius in your hands.

“the car goes fast,” you said, moving your lips slowly, watching violet’s eyes go from your lips to your eyes. she babbled, you smiled as you kissed her temple, repeating the sentence again. “the car goes fast,”

“hell yes it does,” charles said, walking in. he had his racing suit on, the zipper was down, though, and you could see his fireproof undershirt. he grabbed violet, who played with the velcro strap.

“don’t swear,” you patted his leg, standing from your spot on the couch. “you ready?” you asked, kissing his cheek. violet noticed, and she did the same, making charles laugh.

“i think so,” he nodded, “i’ve got my two girls here, i can do pretty much anything right now,” he pressed his lips against violet’s temple. “but-”

“charles, we need you for something,” there was a knock on the door, and charles sighed. he’d promised to spend as much time as he could with you, even though you’d promised him it was okay, that he still had to focus and prepare for the race, but he had missed having you there and wanted to stay there with you two.

“it’s okay,” you grabbed violet, who frowned, she’d only gotten a few minutes with charles, why was he leaving again so soon? “we’ll be right here,” you smiled, leaning in to kiss charles’ cheek, but he turned his head, meeting your lips with his.

“i will be right back, okay?” you nodded as he hugged you both. he walked out of the room without looking back, despite how much he wanted to stay.

violet whimpered, you looked down at her and chuckled.

“it’s okay, baby, he’ll be right back, okay?” you sat her down on the couch, “da will be right back,”

as it turned out, violet called both you and charles ‘da’. it was the one word she associated with the two of you. much to charles’ dismay.

“oh, love, it’s okay,” you cooed, noticing violet’s teary eyes. “it’s just for a little while, my love.” you grabbed her again, and started walking around the room, gently rocking her in your arms. she wasn’t a loud crier, but her tears were just as real. “oh, violet, don’t cry, you’re making me cry, too!” you chuckled, pulling her close to your chest.

a few minutes passed, you could still feel your shirt getting damp from her tears, when the door behind you was opened.

“what’s wrong?” charles asked, and violet struggled in your arms. you put her down and she ran to charles.

“dada!” you froze, your eyes went wide as you watched charles crouch and catch violet in his arms. “dada,” she repeated, her tiny arms on his neck.

“it’s- it’s okay, violet. i- dada’s here,” he said, letting out a shaky breath as his eyes met yours.

“charles-” you started, feeling your eyes burning.

“dada,” violet started, turning her head back, “mama!” she called for you. you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. you just stood there, with wide, teary eyes, as the child that you’d promised to love and raise as if she were your own, called for you. “mama, mama,”

charles was just as shocked as you were, but he snapped out of it first, walking to you once he noticed that you were still processing it.

“d-did she… did she…” you couldn’t finish your question, but charles was already nodding his head.

“dada. mama.” apparently those two words had become violet’s favorite ones. you let out a laugh, wrapping your hands around charles’ back, with violet stuck between your bodies.

“yes, violet. dada and mama are here.” charles said. you just breathed deeply.

violet didn’t know what was going on around her. she didn’t know why the people wearing red were standing up, clapping and yelling. she didn’t know why you were standing up as well, with your palms pressed together, covering your mouth. she didn’t know why you had tears in your eyes.

“dada won, violet!” she didn’t understand what that meant, but you were smiling, so she smiled as well. you picked her up in your arms, someone handed you a pair of headphones, you placed them on violet’s ears to protect her from the loud noises.

you’d promised to stay inside the ferrari motorhome, but you weren’t counting on charles getting the first win of the season, his first in a while, his first with his family there with him.

you were escorted to the podium ceremony, arriving just in time to see charles stepping out of the car. he jumped out of the car and ran to his crew, you were breathing fast, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard, there were tears in your eyes as you watched charles.

“that’s dada,” you told violet, even though she probably couldn’t hear you with all the noise.

you waited a few minutes, for charles to finish getting weighed, before someone talking to him pointed in your direction.

he smiled as he ran to you, wrapping his arms around the two of you.

“that was amazing, my love.” you said, grabbing his face to direct his lips to yours. “i love you so much, you deserve this!” you smiled.

“dada! mama!” violet said, annoyed that you weren’t paying attention to her.

“sorry, violet. dada and mama are here. we love you, too,” charles gave you two one last hug before he had to be taken away for interviews.

violet was sleeping between you two, she was curled up on her side, resting her head on charles’ chest. you couldn’t blame her, that was how you loved to fall asleep, too. you couldn’t sleep, you still had that remaining rush of adrenaline running through your system, which made it hard for you to succumb to sleep. you turned to your side, leaning forward to kiss violet’s cheek softly, then charles’ lips. you left the bed, sliding open the door to the balcony.

you could hear people partying out there. you leaned your arms against the railing, thinking about how, if you didn’t have violet, you would probably be out there with them. but you wouldn’t change your little family for anything.

“what are you doing out here?” you heard charles’ sleepy voice, felt his arm around your waist.

“just thinking,”

“about?” he asked, kissing your shoulder. you smiled, turning your head to the side to look at him.

“how i wouldn’t change this for anything in the world,” you answered, biting your bottom lip. “i love you and i love violet, and i’m so lucky to call you both mine,” he didn’t answer, just turned you around so your back was against the railing, his hands on your waist.

“we should make it all official, then,” he said after a few seconds, you leaned back, tilting your head up to look at him. “marry me,”

“charles leclerc, after almost eight years of dating, this is how you’re proposing to me?” you raise an eyebrow, joking to avoid letting tears take over you.

“no,” he shook his head, a small smile on his face, “you deserve something much better. our child needs to be part of it, for starters,”

“of course,” you laughed. you placed your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair.

“will you, though?” he asked.

“what?”

“marry me?”

that was a question that you both knew the answer to.

“yes,”

3K notes · View notes

sheetsonfire · 2 years

Text

This list will be continuously updated, happy reading!

Soccer Practice | Halstead!Sibling | Jay picks up his sister after soccer practice, but things don’t go as planned.

You Called The Police Before You Called Me? | Halstead!Sibling | The Halsteads are victims of a robbery.

When The Fever Breaks Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 | Halstead!Sibling | Y/N, sibling of Jay and Will has been struggling with their mental health, and it’s all coming to a pressure point.

Firefight | Jay Halstead x Reader | Jay and Y/N are in a firefight.

Hostage Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 | Kelly Severide x Reader | Y/N is a Firefighter at Firehouse 51, they get taken hostage inside the Firehouse with Casey’s niece, Violet.

Pony | 18+ | Jay Halstead x Reader | Jay is put in an unusual undercover position, Y/N is on the front lines of it, and the rest of Intelligence gets to watch it.

The Academy | Kelly Severide x Platonic!Reader | Y/N and Firehouse 51 respond to a call at the CFD’s Fire Academy. It’s a bad day, with good friends to see you through.

Valentine | Will Halstead x Reader | You’re a chef and Will drops in at the end of your shift on Valentine’s Day.

The Waiting Room | Kevin Atwater x Reader (Platonic or pre-romance) | As the team wait for news on Kim, the reader experiences some troubles of their own.

She'd Have Liked You | Kelly Severide x Platonic!Reader | Y/N finds herself caught in the moment of Ritter and Eric being harassed at Molly’s. [Lesbian!Reader]

Gossip | 18+ | Will Halstead x Reader | Some trouble with Dr Archer and crossed wires gets Will into trouble with the reader. How will it be resolved?

A Minute To Win It | Severide!Sibling | The Severide siblings are arguing again, Herrmann wants to know why.

Ears and Tears | Severide!Sibling | Time-rewind. A moment in the past where Kelly takes care of his little sister, Y/N, when she’s feeling unwell.

Jealousy, Jealousy | Jay Halstead x Reader | Reader’s ex is Kelly Severide and Jay is jealous but the reader kind of laughs it off/teases him for it.

The Bullpen | Matt Casey x Reader | Reader works admin at the firehouse and Matt keeps interrupting her because he’s in a playful mood.

Heartbreaker | Jay Halstead x Reader | Reader joins Intelligence and has a reputation for breaking hearts. The reader tries to warn Jay that she may not be the best relationship person.

Fooling | Kelly Severide x Reader | People think that you and Kelly have something going on when in reality you only hooked up once, and now you’re just super close friends.

Call It Love | 18+ | Jay Halstead x Reader | Reader and Jay have to share a hotel room for a case but she forgets to bring pyjamas, so Jay offers his shirt.

2-Minute-Fiancé | Will Halstead x Reader | Reader is a doctor at Med and is hit on by one of the patients, Will gets her out of an uncomfortable situation.

Dead and Waiting | 18+ | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 (FINAL PART), EPILOGUE | Jay Halstead x Reader | Reader gets caught up in an undercover case, and she's forced into faking her death.

We'll Always Need Each Other Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 | Halstead!Sibling | Jay and the reader have a big fight, and then the reader gets kidnapped.

Hard Day's Night | 18+ | Connor Rhodes x Reader | Connor and Reader are trying to spend more time together.

The Third Halstead Part 1 | Part 2 Part 3| Rhodes/Halstead!Sibling | The new doctor at Med is Connor Rhodes' sister, or is she?

I'll Take You Home Part 1 | Part 2 | Hank Voight x Reader | Intelligence goes out for drinks, Hank helps a drunk reader get home safely.

Home To You | Jay Halstead x Reader | Reader returns home from service, she finally has the courage to face the one person she's been avoiding. (TBC)

The Thunder Rolls | Jay Halstead x Reader | Jay and Reader get caught in a thunderstorm.

Second Chances Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 | Connor Rhodes x Reader | Reader is in a car accident.

Moonlight Flit | 18+ | Connor Rhodes x Reader | Reader has a new job, she meets a stranger the night before her first day.

Best Friends | Jay Halstead x Platonic!Reader | The reader is having an anxious day, and Jay is there to comfort them.

Fri-yay | Jay Halstead x Reader | Reader has a bad day, but luckily Jay Halstead is the remedy.

Intruder | Will Halstead x Reader | Y/N gets caught up in a home invasion.

Rose | Will Halstead x Reader | Y/N and Will with their newborn daughter.

Team Severide | Severide!Sibling | Y/N is trapped in an elevator.

Lucky | Atwater!Sister | Kevin gets hurt on the job.

Believe Me | Severide!Sister | Kelly has a new girlfriend, it doesn't go well for the reader.

In Pursuit | Will Halstead x Reader / Jay Halstead x Platonic!Reader | Jay and Reader are partners, the Reader gets hurt on a case, and Will and Reader confess their feelings.

I'm With You | Antonio Dawson x Reader | Reader gets a cancer scare, and Antonio is by their side.

First Date | Hank Voight x Reader | Reader invites Hank on a first date, to a wedding.

Wrapped In Lace | 18+ | Will Halstead x Reader | Reader has new underwear to show Will, she gets creative with it.

Old Flames Can Still Burn You | Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 | 18+ | Jay Halstead x Reader | Ava Bekker is from Reader's past, now together with Jay, they must face the return of everything Reader wanted to escape from.

The Escape King | Jay gets into some trouble fighting an offender, Reader is there to help. Jay!Whump - Chicago PD S1 E11

In The Morning | Brian Zvonecek x Reader | Brian comes home from a shift, fluffy one-shot.

Your Hand In Mine | Jay Halstead x Fem Reader | Jay and Reader get some life-changing news. Pregnancy!Fic.

Counting Breaths | Halstead!Sibling | Reader has an asthma attack in the middle of the night, Jay's there to help.

Restless | Jay Halstead x Reader | Sometimes it's hard to sleep.

Dead On Your Feet | Jay Halstead x Platonic!Reader | The reader tries to save Hank Voight, but there are misunderstandings and regrets for all involved. Can things be healed?

Interstate Intimacy | 18+ | Jay Halstead x Reader | Sequel to Call It Love, The Reader and Jay make the trip back to Chicago, with a detour.

The Wrong Door | Jay Halstead x Reader | The reader opens the wrong door after a night out, but it turns out it actually might be exactly the one they should have opened.

Thinning Of The Veil | Jay Halstead x Reader | The Reader has a gift and it's not a welcome one.

Five Times and A Date | Matt Casey x Reader | Five times Matt Casey and the reader meet, and one time they go on a date.

I Only Want To Be With You | Jay Halstead x Reader | The reader is turning 30, and nobody seems to have remembered.

The Red Strokes | Jay Halstead x Reader | Wires are crossed and assumptions are made, can the reader and Jay resolve what has been left unsaid?

In Sickness and In Health | Kelly Severide x Reader | The reader is having an asthma flare, and their husband Kelly Severide is there for them.

Suspects and Surprises | Jay Halstead x Reader | Jay chooses a unique moment to propose.

Free Will | Will Halstead x Reader | Will makes a decision that throws everything the reader thought they knew into question. Where will the road take them?

Chasing Shadows Away | Jay Halstead x Reader | The reader dreams of their worst fears, and Jay is there to chase them away.

Figures | Halstead!Sister | The reader has a rough day of seizures, they are reluctant to go to Med until they have no choice. - but things are always easier with two big brothers by your side.

Beware Your Elders | Adam Ruzek x Reader | When Adam gets assigned to patrol for the day, he is reunited with an academy classmate and friend.

Thank you so much to everyone who has followed, supported, liked, reblogged and commented, it's so very appreciated!

#sheetsonfire masterlist #one chicago #chicago fire #chicago pd #chicago med

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poorlittlevampirebaby · 4 days

Text

for @iwtvfanevents REWIND THE TAPE: a playlist masterpost

tracklists beneath the cut

I. "IN THROES OF INCREASING WONDER"

haunted by american dreams

music box — MICHAEL RIESMAN AND THE WESTERN WIND ORCHESTRA

ascension — SARAH KINSLEY

the man that got away (live) — JEFF BUCKLEY

i'll go running — SQUIRREL FLOWER

ghost — LIANNE LA HAVAS

things that scare me — NEKO CASE

old devil moon — ELLA FITZGERALD

crying — MADISON VIOLET

funeral bell — PHILDEL

to die today — CAROLINE ROSE

pointed at the sun — HURRAY FOR THE RIFF RAFF

anger as beauty — HAWKSLEY WORKMAN

cocaine and abel — AMIGO THE DEVIL

so in love — KISS ME, KATE (marin mazzie in the new broadway cast recording)

II. "AFTER THE PHANTOMS OF YOUR FORMER SELF"

little lonely habits turn into sins

skydiving (acoustic) — LIGHTS

the day i drove the car around the block — INDIGO SPARKE

tears in reverse — LUCIUS

hungry ghost — JOHANNA WARREN

you do something to me — ELLA FITZGERALD

so afraid — JANELLE MONÁE

misguided angel — COWBOY JUNKIES

it's alright ma, i'm only bleeding — THE DUHKS

little lonely habits — EMILY BROWN

tonight will be fine — CHRISTINA MARTIN

where i want to be — FRANCES RUFFELLE

truth be told — SKYE WALLACE

clever meals — TEGAN AND SARA

all mirrors — ANGEL OLSEN

III. "IS MY VERY NATURE THAT OF THE DEVIL"

anger pure and real and sticky and moving and sweet

all along the watchtower — JIMI HENDRIX

never say die — CHVRCHES

merrily we roll along — MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG (the new cast recording)

entertain — SLEATER-KINNEY

american dream — ONDARA

what a little moonlight can do — BILLIE HOLIDAY

tooth for a tooth — JOHANNA WARREN

don’t let me be misunderstood — NINA SIMONE

fire — SARA BAREILLES

state — LAURA STEVENSON

trouble — THE NEW RESPECTS

a burning hill — MITSKI

don’t forget — SKY FERREIRA

looking for knives — DYAN

IV. "THE RUTHLESS PURSUIT OF BLOOD WITH ALL A CHILD'S DEMANDING"

i shine only with the light you gave me

my baby wants a baby — ST. VINCENT

if you could read my mind — ROSE COUSINS

wolf like me — TV ON THE RADIO

all the things you are — ELLA FITZGERALD

daughter — PEARL JAM

oh no darling! — SARAH KINSLEY

children will listen — ELERI WARD

adam’s ribs — JENSEN MCRAE

the moon will sing — THE CRANE WIVES

light of love — FLORENCE + THE MACHINE

diaries — MARTYNA BASTA

isn’t it a trial? — ALICE BY HEART (grace mclean & company in the original cast recording)

dress yourself — SLEATER-KINNEY

doll parts — HOLE

V. "A VILE HUNGER FOR YOUR HAMMERING HEART"

what if birds aren't singing they're screaming

salt and vinegar — LIGHTS

the wetlands — AIOFE WOLF

death of me — SKYE WALLACE

like a child hiding behind your tombstone — SLOTHRUST

nine lives — ODIE LEIGH

what if birds aren’t singing they’re screaming — ALDOUS HARDING

let me stay — JOHANNA WARREN

pushing the needle too far — INDIGO GIRLS

every day a little death — A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC (patricia elliott & victoria mallory in the original broadway cast recording)

any way the wind blows — HADESTOWN (original broadway cast recording)

special death — MIRAH

the kick inside — KATE BUSH

my least favorite life — LERA LYNN

stormy weather — ETTA JAMES

VI. "LIKE ANGELS PUT IN HELL BY GOD"

after midnight

phantom limb — SKYE WALLACE

black star — JADE BIRD

send in the clowns — ELERI WARD

as long as he needs me — OLIVER! (sally dexter in the 1994 london palladium cast recording)

stuck in the south — ADIA VICTORIA

chess — CHESS (the original recording)

walkin’ after midnight — PATSY CLINE

what’s the use of wond'rin’ — CAROUSEL (jessie mueller & renée fleming in the 2018 broadway cast recording)

these days — ST. VINCENT

:/ — JOHANNA WARREN

devils — AMELIA CURRAN

i don’t like mondays — TORI AMOS

looking for trade — SHOCK TREATMENT (jessica harper & cliff de young in the original soundtrack recording)

gimme gimme — DAMHNAIT DOYLE

VII. "THE THING LAY STILL"

the party's over

blood — MARIKA HACKMAN

his kiss, the riot — HADESTOWN (patrick page in the original broadway cast recording)

paint it, black — CIARA

love will tear us apart — AMYTHYST KIAH

new year — BIG JOANIE

it’s a man’s, man’s, man’s world — JAMES BROWN

angels in cages — CARAVAN OF THIEVES

the party’s over — LAURA BENANTI

if the poison won’t take you my dogs will — LINGUA IGNOTA

the wheel — LAURA STEVENSON

house of mirrors — JOSEPHINE ONIYAMA

shock treatment — SHOCK TREATMENT (original soundtrack recording)

the liars club — AMIGO THE DEVIL

the vampyre of time and memory — QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE

thanks for listening

#mine #music #playlist #vampterview #iwtv

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alexa-lightwood-blog · 11 months

Text

Falling (Part 4 - finale)

You finally face the punishment for finding love, but can you be saved before it is too late?

(Yes, this comes many years after the other parts, I kinda forgot about it. Suprisingly interactions with this fic are on a rise, so here you go.)

The ringing in your ears is nothing compared to the agony which curls its way around your spine. You feel light, entirely too light, whether from blood loss or the gory sight of your once pristine wings splayed on the floor before you.

Gabriel had long since removed your gag, you wouldn't scream now, what was the point? The last vestiges of your fight fell with the last shining feather. He sat before you, almost smug in his victory. You had no choice now but to accept your fall. A bloody Halo traded for Horns.

"You brought this upon yourself, you know." Gabriel simpered, crouching to look in your defeated eyes. "Michael thought that you might repent, but that demon has sunk himself too deep into your heart."

Silence is his only answer.

If only you could have seen Crowley one last time, perhaps it would be a fitting end for you. Silence is almost a comfort at this stage, nothing but silence... silence... silence...

... and a blaring car horn.

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

From there things get a little confusing. Lots of crashing, lots of shouting, no more silence. You feel cold, but it will be okay, it has to be. A familiar voice cuts through the haze of your addled thoughts. Something about madness and delusion, the soft spoken toneseemed to suggests it was Aziraphale. Of course he was clever enough to figure out where you were.

Whilst attention was drawn to the rather unconvincing scolding - it isn't really Az's fault if his scolding feels a little forced, he's just rather nice. The perfect Angel, you reflect almost bitterly on your own position mere months ago.

As your thoughts consume you the loosening of your binds escapes your notice until lithe fingers wrap around your wrists, kneading at the red marks. You gasp in shock at the feeling of lips brushing over the harsh lines and almost recoil if not for recognising the striking shock of red hair at the periphary of your vision. Crowley.

Carefully bundled up in his arms you fight the urge to cry. Golden eyes meet yours and you feel swept away by the sheer emotion that you are met with. Now Aziraphale just has to keep Gabriel distracted. Sneaking past an Angel is difficult enough already, but sneaking past an Angel while carrying a second, smaller Angel can only be impossible but Crowley manages to make it work. Blood drips a slick trail to the floor and the sound of muffled steps and angry voices lull your mind away, into dreams of viscious violet and gentle gold.

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

When you do finally wake again you find yourself cocooned in pristine white blankets, smelling of fresh cotton and surrounded by grey concrete walls. Hunched in a crimson chair lined with gold sits Crowley, very dishevelled but no less welcome to your panicked self. Looking down you find his hand twined with your own, carefull of the bandages but tightly gripping you as though you may just vanish again if he loosens his hold.

"Crowley" Your hoarse voice struggles to find the sylablles but you prevail, not that it matters much as he snaps to attention. Arms are quick to encircle you as Crowley buries his face deep into your hair with a sigh. Finally you are home.

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

Little Bonus:

It's a little while later, as you are still curled up with Crowley who refuses to release you from his coils that you think to ask, "Where is Aziraphale now?"

A simple grin does wonders to lift your spirits as Crowley shuffles even closer whispering, "Looking for a way to return your wings."

"Shouldn't we go and help him then, he's already gone to so much trouble for me, you both have." Already attempting to swing yourself up from the bed you are met with resistance.

"Not yet," Crowley murmurs softly, "I've just got you back and I intend to savour as much time together as we can." You relax into his hold. you can always go and help Aziraphale tomorrow, right now you should enjoy the love of your clingy demon.

#good omens #crowley x reader #good omens fluff #good omens x reader #crowley #good omens aziraphale #good omens x reader angst #crowley x reader fluff #crowley x reader angst

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stilespeters · 1 year

Text

SALVATION (series)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

pairing: colin zabel x reader

words: 3047

A/N: i told myself i was gonna make the chapters shorter but its still somehow 3k🥲, anyway i hope its not boring. lmk what u think bc feedback is always appreciated. also, im still working on the requests, im having a bit of trouble atm with writing the smut but it’ll be alright. Should mosy likely be posted this week.

summary: after some drama at home, a detective saves your life. Later, an invitation is in your mail.

warnings: swearing, hallucinations

part 2: the invitation

“I’m home!” You yelled as you placed your bag next to the counter and you walked to the kitchen with your car keys where Zoe stood. She looked up from her phone and she smiled when she saw you. She waited for you to give her the car keys so she could drive herself to her internship.

“Did everything go alright?” she asked and you nodded as you leaned against the counter.

“Yeah, I got a new psychiatrist. His name is Rudy Vincent.” Zoe had a smug look on her face when she heard it was a male, and before you could protest, she already spoke.

“Is he cute?”

“He’s too old for you.” you retorted.

“I wasn't talking for me, I was talking for you.”

You gave her a knowing look and you raised your eyebrow at her, making her raise her hands up in defense.

“You’ve been single since what? The stone age?”

You huffed at that and crossed your arms. “Come on now, I’m 23. I’m not that old.”

Zoe rolled her eyes in a playful manner with a scoff. “Can’t believe that I, as a 17 year old, have more sexual experience than you, my 23 year old sister.”

“Zoe, that’s not… I don’t want to talk about this right now. I have 99 problems to think about and sex isn't one of them.” She chuckled, and this time you were the one who rolled your eyes.

“What about you? Seeing anyone interesting? A certain blonde maybe?”

She turned red and looked away and you gave her a smirk. You remembered a blonde boy that came by now and then and then Zoe would go with him. You never asked about it since you were always busy with something in the house, but now you were curious. “I thought he was the mailman first until I saw the letters KLG on his shirt. He’s a frat boy?” You scanned Zoe’s face and you couldn't help but laugh when you saw her biting her lip. “You like him.”

Zoe looked everywhere but your eyes, and you immediately knew the answer. Lately you had noticed that she was much more glowy. It was visible in her face but it was also noticeable in the way she acted. She was much more on her phone lately and she kept smiling behind her screen.

“And I think his school is close to your internship so that means you’ll get to see him even more.” You winked at her and she bit her lip while looking at her feet. “How do you even know him?”

“I met him at a frat party where Madison dragged me to a week ago.”

“Cute, you should show me a picture sometime, I haven't seen his face yet.” you respond. “Oh, and to answer your first question, Vincent seems nice but I’d like to just keep him as my psychiatrist. I have no interest in dating at the moment. For now I have my hands full with two teenagers,” you froze, your face turning into irritation. “Speaking of which, where is Violet?”

“She's upstairs, but Y/n… maybe it’s not the best idea if you-” but before she could finish her sentence, you had already moved to the stairs. You spun around to face Zoe one more time and she caught your car keys before you walked upstairs.

In the hallway you walked to the door on the right with a board that said “Do not disturb”, but you opened the door anyway and immediately stepped into a t- shirt on the ground.

When you looked up, you saw Violet with headphones next to the window with her head resting on her palms, and a cigarette between her fingers.

“Violet!” you tried but the music in her headphones were too loud for her to hear you. So you walked inside and stood next to her with your arms crossed and your eyebrow raised.

“Violet!” This time she looked up a you and placed the headphones around her neck. “What.”

“Don’t give me ‘what’” you sighed. “I got a call from school. You’ve been skipping classes, seriously Violet?”

“Skipping one class isn't gonna hurt me, Y/n.”

“This isn’t just one class, it’s four days. You’ve been skipping school for 4 days. Where the hell have you been? How do you even get cigarettes?” you eyed it in her hands with disgust.

She rolled her eyes and looked back outside. “You’re not my mother, I don't have to tell you,”

“No that's right, but as long as Cordelia is in France, you’re my responsibility. And as long as you're my responsibility you do as I say.” You closed your eyes while sighing and you rubbed your temples. “All I ask from you is to just go to school and not smoke in the house.”

She didn't seem fazed, and as a means to annoy you even more, she brought the cigarette back between her lips and made eye contact. That’s when you plucked it out of her mouth and threw it out of the window, and you could hear her protest as she watched it fall into the grass.

“You’re such a bitch.” she snarled and you rolled your eyes. “No smoking in the house, you're free to do whatever you want as long as you obey those rules.”

“Whatever.”

You sighed again, and you turned around to leave the room. You stopped however when you heard her mumble something.

“You're not even my real sister.” it was as quiet as a whisper but to you it was like a gunshot next to your ear. You slowly turned around and scanned her for any sort of hesitation on her face. All you could read was irritation that you threw her cigarette out of the window. You tried not to show her how hurt you were by her words, but your jaw clenched and your eyebrows were knitted together.

“You know what, I cannot deal with this right now, I’m gonna clear my head,” you sighed and turned around to leave the room. “We’ll talk about it later when I get back.”

When you walked downstairs, Zoe was still in the kitchen and she looked up at you once you walked over to her. You leaned against the counter.

“What am I gonna do with her.” you groaned and you covered your face with your hands. You had always been patient with Violet, especially since you saw so much of your younger self in her, but lately with everything going on, you felt like you were failing as a sister. Sisters were supposed to support each other and have fun with each other. They aren't supposed to disagree with everything and fight about everything. You hated that you kept acting like her mother, but in cases of skipping school, you had to.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you slowly looked up to see Zoe look at you with an understanding smile. “You're doing great, Y/n. Don't beat yourself up. She'll come around, I know she will.”

“Yeah,” you whispered and you looked outside into the garden. “I think I’m gonna go for some fresh air, maybe get some coffee. I need to clear my head.”

“Alright, I’m going to my internship,” she walked to the door but paused. “You’ve got mail by the way.” She pointed at the stack of posts on the table. “I’ll check them later.” You said and you walked over to the coatrack.

After you sat down at a table with coffee in your hands you couldn't stop thinking about what Violet said. It was like a knife to your chest, and you hated that you and her didn't have a bond as tight as it was before. Yes, you weren't her sister biologically, but you didn't care that you weren't blood related to the Goode family. Violet was still legally your sister whether she liked it or not.

And although you knew it was probably just her moody teenage self, it still hurt.

You loved her unconditionally and part of you felt like that love wasn't fully returned.

You bit the inside of your cheek and before you knew it, thoughts consumed you. Most of them were about you and violet. You didn't even realize that half an hour had passed.

That’s when you looked up, and came face to face with your worst nightmare.

Kai Anderson.

It was so sudden that your smile immediately disappeared. It felt like the air got sucked from your lungs, and your mind stopped working. As if the wheels in your head stopped spinning, and the world around you froze.

He was casually standing on the other side of the crosswalk with his hands in his pockets, a neutral expression on his face and his lips in a thin line. When you made eye contact, his lips curled upwards in somewhat of a mocking smile and you analyzed him cautiously. His blue hair was shoulder length as always, he wore a black jacket and black trousers, and he had a dark blue beanie on his head.

Even from a distance he looked menacing.

Your eyes narrowed at him, and your knuckles turned white as you squeezed your coffee cup. It was a wonder that you didn’t squish it, but luckily it didn’t since the coat you were wearing was Zoe’s. She’d kill you if you stained it since it was one of her favorites. One time when you stole her scarf for a day and stained it with cola, she didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day. Which is funny since she wasn't the most fond of fashion.

After a few seconds of recollection, your grip loosened on the cup and your mouth that hung slightly open, closed. You remembered what Vincent said.

“If you see him again, I want you to try and convince yourself that he isn’t real.”

So you closed your eyes, and let out a deep sigh while repeating the same sentence over and over again.

you are not real, you are not real, you are not real.

You were sure that if bystanders were to see you chant this, they would absolutely think you were batshit crazy, but you didn't care. They already thought you were. All you wanted was for this fucker to go away and rot in hell, not in your dreams or in your daily life. And if making yourself look like a fool was the solution to get him away, you would gladly do it.

After minutes passed, you sucked in one deep breath, and when you opened your eyes part of you expected for him to be gone.

Yet again, you were met with the same terrifying eyes of Kai.

Fear began to creep back in, and your muscles that loosened a while ago now tensed again. Why wasn’t he going away? Why was he still standing there like time hadn’t passed? How did he look so real?

Your eyes blinked rapidly, like there was something in your eye that wouldn’t go away. But no matter what you did, he just didn’t go away. He was like a fly in the room at night who kept zooming in your ear. Like, no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to swat it away, it just keeps zooming like a nuclear alarm. It was the most infuriating thing ever.

Suddenly you had the urge to kick him as hard as possible. You downed the last remaining bits of coffee down your throat, clenched your jaws shut together and your clammy hands turned into fists. Suddenly all the fear and confusion started to morph into anger.

It morphed into pure rage.

He had taken control over your life for 7 years.

He wasn't gonna take more.

So you did something that might be the smartest or dumbest thing you had ever done.

You stood up, threw 5 dollars out of your purse on the table for your coffee, and you started making your way to the other side of the crossroad. People around you didn’t notice the way you marched in one line straight to Kai, except for the people you pushed away. They glared.

But you didn't give a flying fuck. For years you had made yourself a victim, trying to ignore your problems until they eventually went away, only to recur again. But right now, you wanted to face your problem, in the hopes of finally overcoming your fear. In the hopes of finally being able to breathe without feeling paranoid. You finally decided to not cower or run away.

You almost reached the pedestrian cross, when you suddenly got pulled out of your thoughts as someone roughly pulled your coat, making you let out a yelp. Your body got tugged backwards just as a car screeched down the road, and you nearly tripped as your heel got stuck in front of the trottoir. Your eyes went wide as the car honked, and if it weren't for two hands holding you steady, you would've fallen down due to the momentum.

“It’s a pedestrian crossing, are you blind?!” A man shouted. He held your arms firmly, afraid that you’d fall if he didn't and his voice was filled with worry. “I got you.” His voice was gentle and you stared at his chest in shock. You didn't realize that your inner monologue made you not watch your surroundings. It almost got you run over. A few people who were now crossing the road, looked up at the two of you and you couldn't feel more embarrassed.

His eyes were still focused on the car that moved around the corner. Your eyes were still wide and your heart was rapidly beating as adrenaline flooded through your body. Your arms were clutched to your chest and your mouth hung slightly agape. You looked like a lost child who just lost their parents.

“Hey, are you okay?” You snapped back into reality and your head tilted to look at the man who saved your life. “Yeah.” You managed to get out in a voice crack and you gulped harshly. He gave you a soft smile and let go of your arms carefully. His hands went into his pockets and you scanned his face. He had dimples, dark brown eyes and dark brown hair.

“You saved my life, thank you.”

“It’s nothing. That asshole should’ve seen that it was a pedestrian crossing. There are children walking around here.” He looked at two kids eating ice cream a few meters away from you before looking back at me again.

“Are you okay, truly? Cause that must've been quite the scare. I hope I didn't grab your arm too harshly.”

“Yeah I’m fine, really. Thank you again for pulling me back. I owe you.”

There was a short silence and you both exchanged shy glances. You had never seen this man before, but he had somewhat of a familiar face. You swore you had seen him somewhere before but you couldn't quite place it from where you had seen him. It was probably just one of those faces that looked similar.

After you got out of your trance, you looked at the spot where Kai stood, and now he was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck,” you said as you stared at the empty spot, and the man raised his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I just…” you began and the man looked at the spot where you were previously staring at. “Never mind.”

You looked back at him and after a short glance, he raised his hand for you to shake. “I’m Colin by the way.”

His hands were big compared to yours. “Y/n.”

His smile faded and his eyes widened. “Holy shit, you’re the girl from the Anderson case,” he could faintly remember your features from the girl in the court video. You looked identical, only older.

You slowly nodded while kissing the back of your teeth and he immediately shook his head. “I’m sorry, you must be tired from hearing that all the time, I’m new to the area here for work.”

That’s when the wheels for you began to click. “Wait, you’re that one detective guy, the one who solved that one cold case and the one who solved that one case in Pennsylvania.”

“Yup.” he placed emphasis on the p and you smiled. Funny how you two both recognized each other.

“That’s really impressive, are you here for the recent killings?”

“Yeah, I was on my way to the station actually, you?”

“I was uhmm… just about to head home, I’m sorry for holding you up,” you referred to his previous answer. “Thanks for saving me, again I’m really grateful.”

“It’s alright.” He said and as you looked up at him, he was contemplating whether or not to continue the conversation, but before he could speak, you had already walked away.

He cursed himself for not talking to you more because he really felt something when he touched you. He knew it was silly, but as he watched you walk away, he felt kind of… drawn to you.

When you got home you had placed yourself on the couch with your mail at hand. Most of it wasn't that special. Bills, insurance, advertisements… You scanned through it all, until one envelope caught your attention.

It was sealed with red marking and on the center of the envelope was your name written in elegant calligraphy.

You carefully opened the envelope to not damage the paper, and when it opened, a card slid out of it. The paper felt thick and expensive, and when you read the words, you knitted your eyebrows together.

Dear Miss Goode, it has been a while since we last spoke. I hope you’re doing well in these times of despair, and I hope to get our status up as acquaintances after all these years. Thereby I am most delighted to invite you to the opening of the Hotel Cortez. Saturday at 8pm. You can bring a plus one if you’d like. It would be delightful if you were to attend.

JPM

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panda-writes-kpop · 1 year

Text

a question of morality, or a test of loyalty?

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! This was written as a birthday present for @ghastlybin , so happy birthday to a wonderful friend and fellow clown. ❤️ Also, this was heavily inspired by the works of @kingmaker-a (you can probably spot the references and thank you to King and @neon-city-dreams for fielding my questions since this fic was a bit out of my wieldhouse)

TW: ACAB and anti-capitalism themes, betrayal, alcohol, food and drink mentions, OOC SuA, a surprise guest at the end :)

Summary: One wrong turn can change your life forever. Some, like SuA, are resistant to change, while others are at the forefront of it all. Where will you lie after everything in your life changes?

♡ Masterlist ♡

"Hey, Geek Squad, over here!"

SuA waves you over with what surely is a weapon in her hand.

"What did you do this time?"

Your lab coat freely flows behind you as you walk towards SuA with haste.

"I think you mean 'What did we do?'" A smirk lies on SuA's face, and the tamed wilderness that rests in her brown eyes should tell you that nothing but trouble is on the horizon. "Watch this!"

With a simple click, the cylindrical object in her hand comes to life. It emits a deep violet color before SuA begins swinging it around. You duck before she swings the object over your head.

"What are you trying to do, behead me?"

She bursts out into a fit of laughter before turning it off.

"No, it doesn't have the capability to do that, but you may have given me an idea for my next project."

"C’mon, be serious. What is this thing for?" You gesture to the object that SuA tosses in the air carelessly before catching it.

"It's a zoning device. The superior asked me to work on it since you haven't had any great ideas as of late."

Your eyes widen as you fold your arms.

"Genius takes time-"

"Genius takes time -" SuA imitates you with a high-pitched voice as you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"You're acting like a child-"

"You're acting like a child!" She imitates you again, but this time, she uses a deep voice.

"I hate you."

"I love you~"

"That's not what I said." You matter-of-factly say as she lightly pushes against you.

"Well, that's what I heard." She smirks, again, before grabbing onto your arm.

You do your best to hide the shyness on your face as you lead her back to the lab.

"Speaking of genius-"

"Speaking of genius-" SuA bursts out laughing before squeezing your arm. "Okay, I'm done, you can continue on."

"Remember that car design that wouldn't work due to the spring constant-"

"Oh, here we go with the math stuff-"

"It's Physics, Sua," You're quick to correct her, "but I managed to fix it, and I should have the plans for you by tomorrow so you can start building."

"Look at you go, Calculator Watch!"

"You're so mean to me." You joke before poking her sides.

She screams and you flinch before breaking away from her.

"Don't do that! I'm sensitive." She crosses her arms in front of her chest in defiance, but the soft smile on her face tells you that she knows you're joking around. "Are you going to get drinks with me tonight?"

"I've got to change first, but yeah, I'll come." You adjust your lab coat before grabbing your ID from its protector. "Same place as usual?"

"Yup," She nods as you place your ID in front of the scanner, "and I don't think you need to change. You make the lab coat look hot, if I'm being honest."

A bit of red dusts your cheeks as the light in front of the scanner turns from green to red.

"Thanks." You mumble before waving her on. "Let's get this done so we can get those drinks, huh?"

"Now you're speaking my language!"

Living in the city had numerous benefits, and one of which was the fact that you could walk from your workplace to home and then back again. You liked taking the scenic route home as you could admire the delicate, dainty work that the city gardeners had created in the small gardens that dusted the sidewalks.

You liked taking the 'good' way home, or at least, that was the name that your co-workers gave it. They didn't like to go through the regular parts of the city due to the high crime rates, so they stuck to their same-old ways. You weren't against the poor and out-of-luck, but safety was a real concern for you, so you take the routine way home every day.

Today, however, was not your lucky day as there happened to be unavoidable construction work on both your regular and alternate route home. That meant that you would have to take the back alleys home, and although you weren't fond of the idea, you didn't want to be late to meet SuA.

Arming yourself with one of your homemade projects, a knife-like object that would send the victim to sleep once it penetrated the skin, you carefully walk through the alleys as you keep your head up. Awareness was a key tool in surviving in the city, especially if you weren't rich or happened to be in the wrong area at the wrong time.

The walk home was nerve-wracking but mostly peaceful. A few stragglers gave you some strange looks, and you couldn't blame them. Your pristine clothes and pure white lab coat must've looked strange next to a worn-down building covered in graffiti. You paid them no mind, and to the stranger that went too close, you flashed your weapon which caused them to quickly back away.

Everything was peaceful, and you felt yourself relax as your apartment building came into sight. Since you were on a main walkway, there were armed guards everywhere, which caused you to slip your weapon back into your pockets. Your quickened steps turned into a relaxed stroll as you tried to find your keys in your pocket.

After giving yourself a quick pat-down, you find the keys in your left pants pocket. You fish them out as you approach the building.

You're stopped by a crowd of people who are talking among themselves. You try to navigate around them, but the crowd's density causes you to reconsider. You'll be heading into the street if you want to do that, and considering how fast most cars go, you choose to stay off the roads.

You shoot SuA a quick text saying that you'll be late, and you slip your phone back into your pocket as you try to weave through the crowd. You stop dead in your tracks when a piercing scream breaks through the hustle and bustle of the city.

With that, the crowd breaks as people go running in different directions. You're left confused until you look to your right.

A girl who couldn't be older than fifteen is shoved against a wall by a couple of guards. She wails again, but they pay her no mind. One guard looks at the other for a moment before pulling out a skinny blue metal rod. You gasp when it illuminates blue after the guard turns it on.

The girl screams and thrashes against the guards, but you're unable to help her. Interfering in the business of the guards in a serious offense, and you don't need that sort of thing on your record.

Besides, if you did rescue her, what would you say?

"Oh, you see that torture device in that guards hand? Funny story, actually, since I'm the one who designed it."

Conflicting opinions battle in your mind as you unlock the door to your apartment.

Should you have intervened, even if it meant your own demise? Would it mean anything if you did? Would those above forgive you for the transgressions against society?

You carelessly throw your lab coat on a nearby coat hanger as you nervously pull at a strand of hair from your head.

That image is scorned into your memory, and you know that you can’t go back to work and continue to do what you did every other day before. The thought of it makes you nauseous, but the question remains to be answered.

What are you going to do next?

You try to pick an outfit in peace, and you’re successful for a moment before another wave of guilt crashes over you.

That little girl could’ve grown up to be something great… god-knows-where she is now, or if she’s still alive.

Still alive, you hope as you get dressed, please be alive.

You have to hope she’s alive. Otherwise, the guilt would eat you alive.

“Hey, you made it!” SuA roughly pats your back before rubbing your arm. “You look nice, all dressed up like that.”

You nod and bite your lip before ordering a drink.

“You alright?” SuA tugs at your arm as you sit next to her. “I know you’re quiet and withdrawn at times… but this is strange for you.”

“I have a lot on my mind.” You confess as you thank the bartender for giving you a drink.

“Like what?”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.” You shake your head as the thoughts come to the front of your mind.

“I worry about you.” Her voice softens, along with her mannerisms. “You can tell me, you know.”

“If I do… you won’t judge me for what I say, right?”

“Not unless you say something stupid.” She shoves you with her shoulder before grabbing your hand. “I’m all ears.”

So you tell her everything.

Everything about what you say. Everything that you had thought in the past hour. Everything, everything, e v e r y t h i n g.

When you finish, SuA quickly hushes you before speaking in a low tone.

“You can’t- you can’t do anything about that girl-”

“That won’t help me sleep at night.” You mummer back. “What do you think?”

“I… You need to move on.”

“SuA, I… I can’t.”

“I know.”

“So?” You softly say.

“So.”

“You can’t… you can’t just say that!” You exasperatedly say. “You need to tell me something.”

“What do you want me to say?” SuA asks with a bit of anger in her voice.

“I need you to tell me anything, SuA, I need you to tell me it’s alright.”

“You’re an adult. You can comfort yourself.”

“I need you to be on my side because I love you!” You raise your voice a moment before lowering it again. “I can’t stand the thought that you believe in these… sick, twisted ideas that this company, this city, this world promotes!”

“You love me?” SuA softens further before embracing you. “I’m sorry that I never said anything before.”

“What do we do now? How do we move forward?”

“I think that’s a question that can be answered after a few more rounds of alcohol.” SuA suggests before pulling away from you.

“Oh… okay.”

“Hey.”

“Hey?” You tilt your head at her.

“I love you too, you nerd.”

It was a dangerous plan.

It was a bad plan.

But it was your only option at the moment.

You and SuA would go into work tomorrow like nothing was wrong. During the shift, however, the two of you would be destroying any of your work that could pose a threat. After that, you’d wipe SuA and yourself from the computer system so you’d be completely untraceable. Then, after you had called in a favor from an old friend, you had a couple of electric motorcycles that would get you out of the city before anyone knew anything was wrong.

It was, most definitely, a horrible plan. One error could end with the both of you dead.

It was your only chance to right a wrong, and your chance to escape this nightmare with SuA, so it had to be a good plan that went well.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you got dressed this morning. After combing your hair into place, you grab your lab coat and head to work.

One last day, you tell yourself, and the rest of your life can be spent doing something good for once.

You offer SuA a gentle nod as you clock in with your idea. She smirks before poking your side with her elbow.

“Why so gloomy?”

“I’m trying not to be.” You mumble before walking in the lab. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

Brief greetings between the two of you were rare, but you had to hope that none of your co-workers thought that anything was wrong. Luckily, no one paid either of you any mind as you slipped into the lab.

You offer a glance backward as you see SuA walk towards the workshop with a phone in hand.

She’ll be fine, you know it. SuA’s a burning fire that’ll do whatever it takes to survive.

You just have to hope that your own resolve can last through an entire shift.

The day goes smoothly, to your surprise. In between working on a comfort project for one of the rich families, you’re able to delete or modify most of your work that would’ve led to the development of weapons or something worse.

As you stare at the weapons in front of you, you can’t help but wonder why you didn’t see this before. Was it the money that blinded you, or were you truly ignorant and resigned to what the people above you were doing?

It didn’t matter because you were going to be done with this life in an hour.

An hour. 60 minutes. 3600 seconds.

Yet the time crawls by at any agonizing pace.

One hour.

You look at the clock in front of you before pulling your flash drive from the device in front of you.

Three minutes.

Three minutes left, and all of you had to do was remove this flash drive from the premises. Maybe you could take it with you and try to amend the war crimes that you had committed by association, or-

The sound of your boss calling your name causes the hair on your arms to shoot up. You discreetly put the flash drive in your pants pocket before turning around.

“Yes?”

“Did you delete all of your work?”

“I-” Shit. “It was an accident.”

“Liar.”

They step aside to reveal SuA behind them.

Your mind races through a million possible explanations before landing on the one that hurts the most.

SuA betrayed you.

She mouths an ‘I’m sorry’, but you’re too blindsided by her actions to say anything.

She did this? After everything she said last night?

“You can hand over the files, and I’m willing to let this go due to your history of good behavior.” Your boss says as they extend a hand out.

You sigh before fishing the flash drive out of your pocket.

“Good, now just hand it to me-”

You hesitate before gripping onto the flash drive.

Could I really live with myself if I did something like this?

You drop the flash drive on the ground before stomping on it with your foot.

You hear SuA gasp as you dryly laugh.

“Whoops.”

“Seize them!”

Public execution.

You knew that was the fate that was destined for you before it came from the judge’s mouth. You had committed treason against one of the biggest companies in the city, which basically meant that you had committed treason against the whole city.

You didn’t really care, though. The one person you actually cared about turned you in, and for what gain?

You thought SuA was honorable, kind, funny, and respectful. There were many nights where you had dreamed of being something more with her. Now, she was repulsive to you. Everything that you had adored about SuA became something that you cursed at. You were so, so wrong about her.

You, however, were right about SuA in one respect: She would do whatever it took to survive.

The guard stationed at your door had told you that SuA wanted to come and see you, but you refused.

Why would you want to see someone who doomed you to death?

Well, you did that part yourself, but it still hurts.

You were numb, so death didn’t seem so bad.

Three days. 72 hours. 4320 minutes. 259,000 seconds.

The amount of time that you had left to rot in this cell before you died.

You had stopped eating a day ago after you found out SuA was paying the jail to provide you with meals that you liked.

You’d do anything to spite her at this point. You knew that she couldn’t handle the fact that your blood would be on her hands, so you’d relish in the thought of making her waking hours as torturous as possible.

You trusted her.

You had the two weeks before your sentencing to mourn the loss of that relationship.

In the place of cold, wet tears and lonely nights were fiery anger and bitter words, but you knew that you couldn’t say any of it to SuA.

She’d apologize, you’d apologize, and she’d get the closure she needed.

So you wouldn’t let her get close. If you had to be punished, then so did she.

The guard in front of you knocks to signal meal time.

“I’m not hungry. You should already know that.”

When they look at you, you realize that this guard isn’t the same one that you’ve had.

“Sorry,” You grumble before hugging your knees close to your chest, “you must be new.”

“Well, I’d be new if I was a guard in the first place.”

“Huh?”

You quickly stand as the guard tosses their hat to the side. Light purple waves of hair fall down her shoulders.

“Who are you?”

“We’re impressed with your efforts, Scientist Zero.” She smiles before fishing keys out of her pocket. “You’re coming with me if I didn’t make it obvious already.”

“What do you want with me? A private execution?” You bitterly spit as she offers you her hand.

“You can sit and rot in this jail if you want, but I think you have some amends to make, right?”

“How do you know so much about-”

“Do you want to come with me or not?” She offers you an ultimatum, and you sigh before cautiously taking her hand.

“I’m choosing to trust you in the hopes that you don’t stab me in the back.”

“I’d never dream of it.” She jokes, and the laughter squeezes the vulnerable part of your heart.

“I need a name before I fully put my life in your hands.”

“Lee Gahyeon.” She answers before pulling you to the side.

Another person, dressed in similar prison wear, takes your place in the cell before Gahyeon closes the gate.

“Don’t tell me they’re going to-”

“We do what we have to.” Gahyeon darkly answers. “A lot of people have faith in you, including myself, Zero. Is it alright if I call you Zero?”

You pause as you think back to the names you’ve been called before.

Geek Squad, Calculator Watch, Nerd.

“I’ve been called worse, believe me.”

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just-an-enby-lemon · 1 year

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Going into the Bruce Wayne adopts a random fictional orphan famous AUs: Bruce Wayne becames the legal guardian of the Baudelaire childrem. Now Count Olaf can try to murder trick and steal TWO whole fortunes.

Imagine Klaus in the Wayne Massion library and discussing books with Jason and having conversations over feeling missplaced and not yet belonging to the Waynes even tho he fits with Duke and bonding with Barbara over her time as a librarian

Violet helping Lucius Fox invent equipament for Batman and bonding with Dick over their shared eldest daugther sindrome and working in the cars with Jason and Bruce and bomding with Tim because Tim totaly would not fall for Olaf's bs.

Sunny cooking with Alfred and being a menance with Damian and learning to talk with Cassandra and Bruce finally having the toddler experience and being besties with Stephanie who will see sassy powerfull baby and become automatically the cool older sister.

All while Count Olaf and Esme Squalor bond with the Rogues Gallery. And even fied with some of them.

Olaf discussing arson with Firefly and trying to outdrama Riddler and bounding with Deadstroke over the fact everyone forgets about their weird comentaries involving a fourteen years old.

Esme exanching date advices with Harley and doing make-up with Joker and bullying Jonathan because he dresses like a poor person.

All while Lemony(the only person that can maybe take Bruce's place over being the most paranoic human being ever) fails in finally meeting the Baudelaires because he keeps getting lost in Gotham because he is a trouble magnet and everything there is trouble.

Also Alfred sassing Mr. Poe. Everyone's dream.

For my personal preferences let Batman take the place of the Vilage of Fowl Devotees: that would mean that we still have Duncan and Isadora, we already have Esme and Jacques may not die. Absolute perfection.

#batman #asoue #bruce wayne #the baudelaire orphans #klaus baudelaire #violet baudelaire #sunny baudelaire #count olaf #esme squalor #lemony snicket #batfam #batkids #batman rogues gallery #no but bruce the world greatest detective looking at one of olaf's disguises and being yeah totaly not count olaf is objectivally funny #on the reverse count olaf sees matches malone and has no idea that is bruce wayne but he somehow knows that bruce is batman #I am batman says bruce #and the baudelaires are super relieved because he is not part of any cult nor working for count olaf #they are already very traumatized wich makes them perfect for batkids candidacy #srlys how is batman adopting the baudelaires not a famous au yet #they are traumatized orphans with no powers but an amazing super human skill set they are right up his alley #and he is a secretive weird and emo jewish dad who has an ongoning theme and runs strong with it wich is also very up the baudelaires area

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sebstan2020 · 3 months

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Repaying the Debt

Chapter 2

Violet squirmed in the boot, her ankles and wrists rubbing against the steel cuffs, which were beginning to cut into her skin. The dark hood made her sweaty and hot, and the piece of frabic tied tightly around her mouth was soaked through with saliva and cut into the sides of her lips. Her whimpers had stopped as she calmed down, the tears staining her face and most probably ruining her makeup, making her look like a dirty old whore.

The car ride was long, and she was beginning to get cramps in all places on her body from the uncomfortable position. How could she get comfortable with her hands tied behind her back and being barely able to move her legs?

A million thoughts were going through her head as the car drove. She prayed that her friend would get worried enough to call her father and not just think she had stood her up. It wasn't like Violet to do that to her friends, and she hoped that within the next couple of hours, police officers would be on her case to find her. Her bag was nowhere in the boot with her, and even if it was, she'd have no chance of getting her phone out, not with the cuffs and hood on her head. But she wasn't an ordinary daughter. Her father was a congressman, a government official, and there was no way he would sit back while his daughter was being kidnapped and possibly used for money.

But what did these guys want? Was it just a quick way to make money? Hold her hostage until Daddy pays up, or worse, were they some sick fucks looking for a quick fuck? The thoughts made her want to start crying again, but she held the tears back, taking a deep breath and swallowing hard. The fabric was sticking to her tongue, and she coughed as her throat was dry and sore.

But it wasn't long until she felt the car slow down and her heart began to beat faster, slamming on the inside of her chest as if it were trying to leap out. She pulled her body closer to her, listening for whatever sounds and voices she could make out. A thump came, which sounded very muhc like a car door closing, and the sound of shoes scuffing grew louder as it got closer.

She held her breath, scared that it would sound louder than it would, and suddenly the boot door opened. A blast of cold air hit her, and she shivered, goosebumps riding up her arms and legs, and she softly whimpered. There was a subtle click, and suddenly a hand touched her arm roughly before a sharp prick came, and she groaned, biting the gag hard. an injection of something that didn't sound good to her.

The boot door shut with a loud slam, and the footsteps grew quieter as they ventured off. The car started in seconds, and it was off again, but Violet's head had already begun to spin, and her eyes were struggling to stay open. It only took a few seconds for her body to reach exhaustion, and she fell into a deep slumber.

Violet groaned as she woke. Her hand was banging as if someone were using it like a drum, and her body was sore, like she had been thrown to the ground like a sack of potatoes. She was so exhausted that she was finding it difficult to open her eyes, and her body was weaker than anything. A soft moan escaped her lips as she shuffled on the very uncomfy mattress underneath her, and a single eye peaked open. The room was dim, with nothing but a grey wall to look at. Her second eye followed, and the sight became clearer. grey walls with a white skirting board.

Looking up, she noticed a small desk and chair, wooden, with nothing on top. There were a few draws down the side of it. Her eyes flickered across the room, and she saw a window high above the walls with a small ledge. It looked frozen on the outside, so there wasn't much of a view.

Finally, she gathered the strength and courage to lift her head. An intense pain ran through her neck, most probably from a bad night's sleep. Pushing herself up and holding herself up with all her body strength, her eyes wandered the room. This was not her bedroom. boring grey walls, lifeless furniture, and a tiny window that you couldn't even see out of—something wasn't right.

To the left was a door that had a crack, and she saw the edge of a toilet. She narrowed her eyes, groaning as her head pounded with any subtle movements, and raised a hand to rub her eyes. She couldn't remember anything. Looking down, she noticed she was lying on nothing but a mattress with a duvet draped across her. no bed, and just a single pillow that was as flat as anything.

Suddenly, her heart started racing again, and a dreaded feeling came over her. She gasped for air, her breathing becoming ragged and fast, and she scurried up from the floor as her eyes met another door—a way out?

but as she raced for it, she was yanked back at the sound of a chain rattling and something pulled against her neck. She coughed and reached for her throat, feeling a thick leather collar wrapped around it, the buckle large, and the feeling of a cold padlock keeping it locked, attached to a chain on the ground. She yanked on it, her fingers desperately trying to find a loose end or tug on the chain to break it, but it was strong.

That was when she noticed she was in different clothes. Her expensive black dress and boots had been swapped for a pair of grey jogging bottoms with some socks and a white t-shirt. definitely not her style or choice of clothing. Her once-styled hair of blow-out curls had turned into a knotted mess, and her makeup was pretty much gone, leaving a bare and pale face. All her jewellery was missing, and she felt naked with none of it on. Her thoughts from the boot of the car were likely to be true—some sick fucks wanting a ransom out of her and selling all her clothes and jewellery for a couple of hundred bucks.

She swallowed hard, trying not to hyperventilate as the pain and anxiety came over her, pushing down and making her want to crawl up into a small ball and cry. No, she couldn’t let any weakness come; otherwise, how was she going to escape? Her eyes flickered to the window, and she jumped up, padding over. The chain reached her, giving her just enough room to push herself up on her tippy toes and look out the window, but the blasted fog and frost kept her hidden away.

Her instinct told her to try the door, and she managed to reach it just enough, although the chain was pulling tightly on the collar, almost choking her again. She rattled the handle, but, of course, it was locked. She was stupid enough to even think there was a possibility that they would leave the door open for her.

"Hello!" she screamed, banging on the door, but there was nothing. No answer, no voices. She shuddered, pacing backwards as tears filled her eyes, and she slumped down on the thin mattress, hugging her legs tightly. Never had Violet felt like this before. Her confident, sassy attitude had been pushed away by the vulnerable and scared girl chained up in a strange room. She was so confident around people, flicking her hair with attitude and strutting her fashionable self around New York City like she was better than anyone else, dripping in gold and expensive taste, her signature scent a classic Chanel perfume, and now she was a plain, scared little girl.

Time seemed to tick by as Violet hugged herself tightly on the floor, listening for any movements. She felt exhaustion coming over her again but didn’t want to risk falling asleep and having the sick fuckers come and rape her or abuse her. No, she needed to be awake and aware.

And when she heard the shuffle of shoes getting louder and closer to the door and the harsh click of a lock, she swallowed quickly and pulled herself up from her knees, holding her head high as she watched anxiously as the door opened abruptly. The man from last night, tall and intimidating, striped inside, had a certain dominant air about him as he stared down at her. Violet could finally get a good look at him, as the darkness had clouded some of his features. His hair was brushed behind his ears except for a few strands falling in front of his face, a dark brown that went well with his attire. In a dark black suit, double-breasted with tight-fitting pants and polished dress shoes, his scent was rich and dark, and Violet could smell it the second he walked through the door. His jaw was covered in a muzzle of hair, but he was not hiding away his sharp jawline. Plump lips and a perfectly shaped nose matched the contours of his face. But what struck her the most was his dazzling blue eyes, like the ocean.

She shuffled back slightly, resting herself on her palms as he stepped all the way inside, shutting the door behind him and leaving it just for the two of them. Violet’s was deciding which route to take. She could either sit and shake with fear and be silent, wondering what the strange but very handsome man wanted from her, or she could pluck up the courage to fight and demand her way out of this hell. If her father were here, he’d tell her to fight for what she wanted, and so she decided to take that route.

“Where am I?” She spoke first, and the man smirked, stepping further in. Violet couldn’t help but push herself back, an automatic response to his movement, and watched him intently as he pushed himself against the desk, folding his legs over one another and folding his arms in front of him. She recognised the ring on his thumb from last night but noticed another on his other hand, fitting well on his pinky finger.

"You are at my compound, in a room, down on the basement level of this house." He was being very specific, but it answered her question.

“Why am I here?” She tried to sound angry and confident, but the little crack in her voice gave away her anxiety.

“Because your father owes me a lot of money.”.

Violet was struck with silence, and her eyes went wider as she blinked in surprise. Her father? Surely not. Surely her reason for being chained up in this room wasn’t because of him.

“Wh-what do you mean?” She asked, this time her voice shaking, and the man chuckled.

“I’m not surprised he hasn’t told you anything; if I were him, I wouldn’t want my daughter knowing her father is a gambler who throws his money at strippers all night long.” Violet didn’t want to believe the things she was hearing, and she used her nail to stab her hand, hoping she’d wake up suddenly and this would all be a bad dream.

“You see your father; he might be a congressman by day, but by night, he is the biggest gambler in this city, and not a very good one. He’s been gambling, probably since you were born. Not to mention the money he spends on strippers. But then he got into a bit of trouble. He needed money, and he didn’t have any, so he came to me. I very kindly gave him a loan. Now, when I give someone a loan, I expect them to pay me back, and I’m a very generous man at times, but your father has screwed me over for the last six months. He owes me a lot of money,” he explained.

“And I’m not about to let someone like your father screw me over and get away with it. If people knew that James Barnes, the leader of the ruthless gang in New York, let a man get away with something like that, then they wouldn’t take me seriously,” he shrugged, and Violet swallowed.

“Which is why you’re here?” he pointed, smiling slightly.

“My father wouldn’t do that,” she tried to defend him, but only received a hard laugh from James.

“You obviously don’t know your father very well then. I gave him plenty of time to get my money back, and he still hasn’t. So until I get all my money from him, every last cent, you're going to remain here.”.

“My father is a congressman; he’ll have the police on you in seconds,” she threatened, but James smirked, shaking his head and scoffing. Did this girl really think she could scare him?

“You don’t know me; the cops work for me; they practically don’t give a shit what I do as long as I pay them. I could shoot someone in front of them, and they wouldn’t bat an eyelid. I run this city,” he pushed himself off the desk, revealing how tall he really was.

“People are going to be looking for me; someone will track me down sooner or later,” she tried again, but James wasn’t even listening. Nothing she had to say would make him scared or worried that the cops would be on his case.

“Not if your father doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. He’s going to play by my rules, and once he pays me my money back, you’ll be free to go home." Violet took a shaky breath. This was truly real. Her mind couldn’t quite believe it, and she shuffled on the mattress, the chain clinking, which caught her attention.

“What’s this for?” She asked nervously, reaching up to hold the cold chain that burned into her hand, and James smirked.

"Well, I wasn’t sure if you were going to be a good girl or not. I can’t have you trying to escape. And as long as you behave yourself, nothing bad will happen. But if you don't, then there will be consequences.” He smiled, as if he enjoyed the thought of that.

“Fuck you,” she spat, and James tutted.

“Now that’s not very nice,” he teased, and Violet glared up at him.

“You can’t keep me here forever; someone will come looking for me, and when they find me, my father will make sure you go to jail for the rest." James turned, walking straight to the door, ignoring the rant coming from Violet, whose voice got louder as he disappeared outside the rooms, slamming the door behind him, as if he didn’t give a shit what she had to say and he didn’t. No threats were going to make him set her free until he had all of his money. Violet huffed, trying to stop the tears from falling from her eyes, and sniffled. It looks like she was going to be here for a while.

Chapter 3

Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments

@charmed-asylum

@pattiemac1

@thischubbydumpling

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@kandis-mom

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes smut #mafia bucky barnes #mob boss bucky barnes #dom bucky barnes

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bellygunnr · 3 months

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Knight Out on Downtown Dialtown

Knight rider x Dialtown. Good fuckin' luck.

The alley behind Bunny’s burger joint is dingy. The signs plastered everywhere for people to “get their own trash” don’t make it any better. Actually, the gap between brick-and-mortar stores is surprisingly full-up with random filler, but the taped posters and graffiti can’t obscure the rank scent or the squelch of mud and refuse pounded into the cracked pavement. At the very least, it’s well lit, and the only major obstacle doubles as your destination.

A dumpster. A violet, heavily tagged dumpster, which— if the locals were to be believed— also doubled as a rental.

You hesitate, though. You lean back against your car, letting your head tilt back until the back of your helmet rests against the t-top structure. Red text appears in the corner of your visor, bringing a wry smile to your face.

This place is awful, Michael. Surely no one actually lives here?

You’re no good at texting back. “He pays rent and everything, KITT,” you say aloud.

You have to be careful not to activate the external mic. Thank GodPhone-God that Bonnie had deigned to add a toggle. Gave you and KITT some privacy while you both struggled your way through the city, whose populace was… interesting. Definitely jarring. Made you itchy, too. The racing helmet you and KITT chose is heavy and hot, the air cooling unable to keep up all of the time. And, well. You’ve both been running at orange since you rode in.

“Michael,” KITT imposes quietly. “We should find that Mr. Jade. That way, if he isn’t here, we can go to a car wash. Or a decontam chamber.”

Fuck. You unfurl yourself away from KITT’s chassis and stretch until your spine cracks. Your shuffling echoes.

The button to hit the mic takes a few chin waggles to fully depress. You hope the tell-tale clicking doesn’t tip people off anytime soon.

“Is there a Randal Jade here? Oh, that’s loud, KI—”

KITT, did you put on the amplifier, goes unspoken, because you bite your tongue. Your voice still rattles the alley, having been pitched way louder than necessary.

Yes, KITT messages plainly.

The dumpster rattles ominously. Trash goes flying as someone pops out from the top, bandaged, bloodied hands gripping the corrugated metal. KITT quickly identifies the Phonehead as a Nokia 3410 which you know is more for his benefit than yours. It just also happens to be Randal’s.

Why does he have “fuckface” scrawled on his head? KITT sends.

How the hell are you supposed to know? You’re wondering that yourself as you wait for Randal to get situated. He seems to struggle, or maybe your shouting disoriented him. Way to go, Michael.

“Um, hey there,” Randal says, slightly breathless. “I’m— I’m Randal Jade. You should just call me Randy, though. Am I in trouble?”

“No, no, no, Randy. You’re not in trouble!” You hurry to placate him for some reason. “I’m Michael Knight. I’m with the Foundation. Why don’t you, uh, come outside so we can talk?”

Randy puffs himself up slightly. Or as much as he can. He seems to be getting the shakes, propping himself up this long over the edge of the dumpster.

“Why don’t YOU come inside? So we can talk? Since this is my house and all…”

He’s got you there, KITT whispers in your ear.

You don’t honor KITT with a response. You both know that getting into that humble abode is not a fucking option.

“Do you really want me to come inside, Randy?”

Randy sighs and hefts one leg over. He falls to the ground in a heap. The thud isn’t as heavy as it probably should be.

“No, not really,” Randy says, staring up at the sky.

You approach him, offering a hand up. You’re not sure if he makes any sort of eye-contact, but his buttons and dim screen stare into your visor for what seems like an eternity before he accepts the help. The bandages are slimy against your palm. Sweat is visibly running down his neck.

KITT wordlessly provides a visual of Randy’s body and relevant vitals. Diagnosis? Some kind of terrified. He probably thinks you’re a cop.

Randy gets his feet under him, but you can’t stop yourself from giving him a pat down or hanging onto his elbows a little too long. You have a feeling if you don’t play your cards right, he’ll crumple into a wet paper ball…

If you think he is riding in my cabin, you are mistaken.

“Thanks… for that,” Randy says.

“Uh, yeah. No problem. Uh. Right. I’m Michael. From the Foundation. Apparently, you may be the only witness to a crime. I need your help.”

Randal stares up at you. He seems to shrink back slightly. You have to step back so his head doesn’t knock against your helmet as he bows it meekly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “I didn’t see any crimes.”

“That’s the thing! You did! It was just a very plain-sight crime and are you actively bleeding through your bandages?”

You can’t help yourself. You’re too wound up to not notice the spreading red on his hands, even as he tries to hide them. Even KITT is highlighting the issue, which seems to be taking precedence over his distaste in being in this situation.

His hands and arms appear to be covered in bite marks. I cannot identify what from.

“When am I not bleeding through my bandages?” Randy asks, laughing a little. “You know how it is. Work runs out of first aid supplies…Just can’t keep up with PURE, UNFILTERED AVIAN RAGE. And how bad I am at wrangling them…”

He shrinks back in on himself, arms wrapped around his body, hands tucked away. His voice had swelled with momentary bravado that immediately cracked on the vowel and kept breaking all the way down.

You’re glad the helmet hides your expressions. But it also impedes your impulse control. You delicately grab Randy’s wrist and tug him toward not just yourself, but KITT, whose wheels crunch audibly against the pavement.

“Michael,” KITT says warningly.

Randy squawks and tries to bolt. You clamp down on him, and he’s not even heavy enough to pull on you.

“What— who was that?” Randy whispers.

You ignore him.

“KITT, come on. The IFAK’s still in there, right? It doesn’t even have to be inside the car—”

“I didn’t have covert murder on the list of ways I was going to die,” Randy says, “and I’m not sure if it’s better than the swans.”

“Murder? Michael, he thinks you’re going to kill him!”

“I— I’m not! Randy, who would even want to kill you?”

What is GOING ON. You didn’t even mean to say that, but Randy takes it and runs, gesturing with his free hand and mumbling incoherently. In your peripheral, you see KITT start to inch backwards, utilizing his “Silent Mode” for all it’s worth, apparently.

“KITT! Remember what you said about the public transit!” You cry out, marching after him.

“Who’s KITT?” Randy squeaks as he stumbles after you.

You debate asking why KITT even broke cover, considering their circumstances, but you have a feeling you know why. There’s no way you’re getting Randy back to the hotel on foot, after all, but both this alley-way and Randy’s, uh, eau de Desperation, will never get out of the upholstery. It’s never getting out of your clothing, either. So.

KITT makes a retching sound in your ear. New and gross. You don’t know if you should praise him for learning a new trick or scold him for making you sympathy-gag. But as you determinedly drag Randy behind you, KITT rolls to a stop and pops both doors.

“Randy—” You start.

“Kidnapping has to be, a, uh, vertical movement right? In terms of living conditions?” Randy asks.

You don’t say anything. His bandages aren’t even well-applied, really. KITT probably would have told you if he was infected, though.

Not even Devon can get you out of kidnapping and murder charges, KITT messages. It takes all of your willpower not to react.

“I never did agree to come with you,” Randy clarifies. “But we both know I’m not strong enough to get away, so why bother! This might as well happen!”

That… would make it kidnapping. You did plan on taking him to a second location. His injuries just threw you out of sorts. Even more out of sorts than you already were, and KITT’s sheer distaste for the current mission, well. Maybe you should take it from the top.

Very gently, you kneel down, clasping his hand more tightly between your own. Waterfowl, sweat, and fear would presumably be flooding your nostrils if not for the very over-engineered helmet over your head. You drag your thumb across his knuckles.

“Randy. I am serious. You can help us with this case. I just can’t let an injured man bleed out on my watch. Let me help you. So you can help us.”

Randy’s fingers wrap around yours. His free hand scrabbles at the back of his head’s paneling, apparently embarrassed by your display of chivalry. A tiny, aborted beeping sound filters out from within.

“Wow. You— you know what? Okay. Okay. I’ll go with you. If it’ll really help,” Randy says.

For some reason, you get the distinct impression he’s blushing. Maybe because his neck turns a darker pink, now that you can see it from the ground. Your pant legs are ruined, actually. Why did you do this?

Randal’s vitals have heightened. I dare say he’s attracted to you.

“You would know,” you mutter internally.

I heard that. Hurry up. This alleyway is going to ruin me.

To your surprise, Randy helps you back to your feet. The effort makes him visibly wilt and more sweat pours off of him in waves. Delicately, you nudge him over to KITT’s passenger door, which is still ajar.

“This is KITT, by the way. He’s my partner. Are you familiar with the hotel?”

Randy throws you an odd look, or what has to qualify as an odd look with a Nokia for a head. But he pries open the door and peers inside, hesitant. You cross around to the driver’s side and unceremoniously dump yourself in.

KITT’s voicebox is looking more like a face everyday.

“…Which hotel? Um, uhh…”

You decide to give him a minute while you look for the IFAK and manually take KITT out of silent mode. He gives you a low tone of reproach in your helmet, but quiets down as he apparently cottons on to how the low whine of the turbine soothes you.

“Hello, Randal,” KITT says.

Randy chirps.

“Are you— the car?”

“That is close enough for now, yes. You’re in good hands now.”

You throw a suspicious look at KITT’s vocoder, which pulses in time to his voice. He’s speaking lower and smoother than usual, and your skin prickles oddly. First, he blows cover, then he starts flirting? Maybe you’ll let him keep it up. See where it goes.

“Am- am I? Hey, maybe I should just get out and walk… I just realized your interior is REALLY clean and—”

KITT lurches forward with a rip of his engine. You snatch the steering yoke to at least pretend you’re driving before he truly hands you manual control. Sedately, you nose back out onto the streets. Dialtown traffic has wound down somewhat.

“Do not. Worry. About that,” KITT lies, in a tone of voice that says Randy should be worrying about it.

Far more kindly: “Why don’t we begin with your day? We could start with the swans.”

One of KITT’s screens starts showing a black-and-white rendition of a swan. It has a paper shredder for a head.

You should be commended for driving like nothing is wrong. You didn’t see the paper-shredder fowl when you had scoped out the park. Too busy losing it over the condition of the grass at the time (and chasing Little Billy away from KITT; he had… interesting vocabulary).

Randy sinks low into the seat to accommodate his… head. Phone. He trembles visibly, presumably in agony.

“We have time if it’s a long story,” KITT says coaxingly.

“KITT—” You start on the internal mic.

You proposed to him first. I am merely following through.

“And I’ve heard that one before…”

Randy’s hands move and writhe as he stops and starts, clearly trying to pick his way through— whatever got him into his specific mess in the first place. It’s going to be a long drive back to Uptown Dialtown.

#dialtown #knight rider #k.i.t.t.#randy jade #kitt #michael knight #gunny writes #you wish this was a normal fanfiction

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