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lxdymoon0357 · 4 months ago

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Hi i hope your doing great . Would you please do a yandere kael ( from for my derelict favorite ) and keneth esbande (from miss not so sidekick ) x runaway bride reader (sepeeately)? Like reader runs away at their wedding night but gets captured by them? Thank you❤

(Thank you so much for this request!! Warnings: bounds, gagging, kidnapping, beating, abuse, runaway bride, fem!reader, drugging, mentions of dub-con sex, yandere content)

oh, don't run away, pretty bride!

Caelus of Vrandt

Uros silently brushed your hair, as you struggled against the many ropes, the binds digging in your skin as you cried against the cloth gag shoved in your mouth..It wasn't your finest moment, trying to run away—

"And would you look at that! Fits like a glove!~" the head maid hummed in delight, fitting you in your wedding dress, tightening the corset to the point of making it unbreathable.

But you put up a smile, nodding. "It is." you said, though tone a bit stiff, the maids ignored it as they all continued to work around and look for multiple jewelleries to fit it!

You hummed, as a few young maids started doing your hair and when all was set and done! The head maid winked, leaving you to collect yourself a few minutes, right before the ceremony started as you beamed at her.

Uros smiled, seeing he head maid walk out as he pat Caelus who had a rare smile on her lips. Diana and Helios itting a few feet away with smiles on their faces. Caelus took in a breath, panic but xcitement in his chest as the tune for your ntrance began and played..

Of-course, the tune continued is perfect symphony that was supposed to be this marriage, until—

"...Where is she..?" Uros whispered to the head maid who shook her head, Uros immediately took to find you, opening the door to find you—

..Nothing.

Oh shit.

You tried your best, picking up the dress and running as fast as you could outside, onto the streets. Ignoring the hushed whispers, or the weird looks, hoping your feet could carry you as far as possible..with the trouble of the wedding dress.

Your feet burnt and every one in a while, a pebble pierced the skin, but your legs carried you further because these pebbles could give you the freedom you'd never received again.

The soft jingling of jewellery, as you ran while trying to unclip the lacy, bejeweled veil to reduce some weight, pulling some hair strands in the process but removing it successfully as you shoved it behind a random shop where most wouldn't think to find..

"Just how many times?!" Caelus hissed in annoyance, rubbing his forehead.

While Uros continued to brush your hair, "Do you have any idea how you tarnished the name of Vrandt house?" Uros asked, in a tone serious enough to send chills down Caelus' back. But Uros was more concerned for you.

Your chek stung with bruises and a previous slap, as Caelus grabbed your shoulders, his hand and finger tips pushing in an awkward angle making it sting and your bones bend nearly.

"My love, how far did you think you'd run?" he hissed, his fingers digging deeper as you hissed, trying to struggle out in fear...Seeing that, Caelus tried to gently hold your cheek as you flinched back, making him stamer a bit,

"You know I was just mad, I'm sorry for hitting you.." he whispered, gently wiping your tears and stroking the stinging bruises which the head maid began to cover with concealer, "We're getting married love..I know you love me..I love you too!"

Kenneth Esbande

Standing at the altar, you put on your smile, nodding to whatever the priest said as Kenneth smiled down at you, you felt your chest suffocating you..the wedding bells a bit too haunting—

"Do you take Kenneth Esbande as your lawfully, faithful husband?"

"I-...I...I can't do this! NO!" you huffed, no idea what fueled the confidence as you threw the bouquet in the nearest guard's face and began running down the aisle, purposely pushing the empty seats, since this was only supposed to be a solitaire event.

Pushing another chair onto a guard, you began running down, letting your feet take you as far as they could and as fast as they could in the heels, even with Kenneth yelling your name—

Tripping a few times in your dress, you egan holding it up awkwardly, not minding the look for in fear of your life, you removed your tiara and threw it off somewhere, scoffing. yes blurring in fear and tears, ribs paining from the tight clothes and from the drink you had earlier to wash away the horror.

Running in random alleys— here and there— to lose the guards, and you did for a long while, running anywhere you could to get away throwing whatever you got in your hand to escape.

Sighing, you slowed for a bit when you were far enough in some alley.. stupid choice, but you nearly fell over and noticed your foot bleeding, but you didn't feel it from the adrenaline.

You were slightly panting as you removed your heels, your veil and unclip the drain from the heavy dress..which relived a lot of tension, hiding from Kenneth was no easy feat...

You wiped your eyes, teared up and your chest pressing down on your lungs..air forced out as you tried to hide your pants, as you leaned against the wall—

"Do you need help..?" a man's voice asked softly..You shook your head, eyes too blurred and hazed over, stomach paining..you couldn't tell if it was from alcohol or something happened...

Your knees buckled, sliding down, as you looked up to meet the man's eyes.. Feeling your limbs give you away..your eyes glazing over to blur the man's image, as mindlessly reachd out to him, "Oh don't worry..I'll keep you safe."

Taking a breath, you nearly screamed feeling your ribs crashing down, as the man roughly forced you down, your cheek pressing against the dirty ground—

"but some manners are due..No?"

Kenneth softly shushed you, "I know..I'm sorry, too rough?" he asked, though cold and emotionless as always..his voice held slight warmth as you cried into his chest.

Your wrists still bound, and mouth reddened with bruises as you nodded, sniffling softly..your mouth refused to speak with him now, body absolutely battered and paining from the events that took place before he forced you to get married.

"I know..Shh. I'll make it all better. Don't think of doing that again, got it? I did this for our own good..My darling wife!~"

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holeforzenin · 1 year ago

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RAISE <3

Synopsis - You were going through a really tough time and needed more money so you asked your boss Nanami for a raise but it seems like he has something else in mind. Not proofread

“Fuck look at you clenching around my cock like a fucking slut". He groans loudly as he uses his pure strength to bounce you on his cock like a ragdoll.

"You dirty fucking whore bet you'll do anything for money wouldn't you?”. He snickered, chuckling while he lets out a low “fuck”

This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. You were going through a really rough time and struggling with money for the past few days, and you'd hoped your sweet boss Kento would understand what you were going through and give you a raise even if it's something small, after all, he's a Jujutsu sorcerer, that man makes more money then you ever will in your whole life. But it seems like he had something else in mind.

And that's how you end up in the situation you're in right now, in your Boss's office. His cock nested into your tiny wet cunny, thrusting himself in and you of you, his angry leaky tip hitting your poor cervix with deep ecstasy as he trails wet kisses on your neck.

"You have no idea how fucking long I've been hah—waiting for this" he whispers against your neck, sending literal chills down your spine.

"Always walking around in those tiny fucking skirts, it's like you were begging to get fucked. Shit you always look so fucking hot, always making my dick hard".

You were really surprised by that, Nanami was always really nice to you, nice to everyone actually, always smiling at them and asking about their day, he’d get everyone coffee and pastries in the morning he was just super nice and sweet. This side of him was very unexpected. What's even more unexpected was the fact that he wanted you.

"Wha—what??" You asked confused, your eyes widenings

"We shouldn't be doing this sir!" you squeaked.

"But you wanted a raise, didn't you? Well, you're going to fucking get it" he groans as he picks up the pace fucking his cock into your pussy from below as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders for dear life.

He hugs your frame, your breast against his hard chest as his arms tighten around you, he starts ramming his cock into your cunt at a faster pace, his cock brushing against your g spot with each roll of his hips while he's stretches you open.

“Fuck Ken, It's s'big" you moaned loudly, as if they aren't other people in the next room that could hear, feeling completely split apart around his cock, he was so big, the biggest you've ever had.

“You’re so fucking loud” he grunts as he lands a harsh smack on your plush ass that definitely left his handprint, “Fuck, you want everyone to know how much of a fucking slut you are clenching around my dick like this, don’t you”.

“Tell me how much you fucking love my cock you filthy bitch.”

"Lo—love it s'much” you try your best to make out. Feeling fucked out as ever.

"Fuck, have I really fucked you dumb already that you can't even form a proper sentence?" he groans while laughing. "You’re gonna have to do better than that princess."

"Your cock feels so good inside of me daddy, it's s'big!" you cried out, feeling his cock twitching inside of you.

"Good fucking girl, Hah—Fuck, that’s what I like to hear, you're gonna make me cum darling".

"You’re going to be so fucking full after I'm done with you."

Your eyes widen with the realization of what he meant. "N-no not inside, please"

"What about that raise princess? Don't fucking make me change my mind, I'm gonna fill your slutty cunt with all my cum and you're going to fucking take it" he stands up with him still inside of you as he places you flat on his desk, your legs hanging over his shoulders as he continues thrusting his massive cock into your gushing wet cunt, your slick dripping down to your asshole, ruining the freshly printed papers from below.

"Hah—Oh fuckk" he moans, slamming his cock into you at an impossible pace, his nails digging deep into your soft thighs as you looked up in horror at what he's about to do "Fucking take it bitch."

You felt his release spurting inside of your pussy, filling you up and causing your eyes to roll at the back of your head. His cock twitches inside of you nonstop, his head falling back as he slowly began pulling out, watching as his cum gushes out of your ruined pussy, dripping down on your asshole onto the desk you were planted on. A small puddle appears beneath you. You were completely fucked out, trying your best to regain your breath as you look up at him.

He slaps his cock against your soaking cunt, groaning as the cum splatters on him. "You like being filled, don't you? You better get used to this if you want to get paid more or maybe you can just be my little office slut, getting paid to Cock warm me all fucking day”.

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rabotimagines · 7 months ago

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"Pet names" pt2 GN! BOT Reader + Prowl, Ratchet, Blaster, Bumblebee, Skyfire

Summary: Reader has become partial to using human pet names for everyone.

Warnings: none.

Genre/Theme: Platonic/with hints of crush

G1 characters included: Prowl, Ratchet, Blaster, Bumblebee, Skyfire.

Notes: Cybertronian Reader, Reader is around Ironhides age so older in mind

Pronouns: You, your, yours, them, they

Prowl is trying to get a verbal review of your report while finishing up his own. You've all been busy the past week, so you're walking through the ark hall while conversing. And you finish, so you move to hand him the physical report on the datapad. "Here you go, Pudding."

Prowl full-on stops in place when he hears what you say, fully expecting his audials to be glitching. "What did you just say?"

"Here you go, Pudding." You hold the datapad out, still completely unperturbed by what you'd just done and even more so when having to repeat it. Prowl processor lags- Because you're calling him- human pet names of all things without reason. But he forces his system to straighten out and consider your personality. This stops it from getting worse since this may just be you behaving like... you.

"You know my designation." Prowl settles on stating the fact.

"I do." You stated back, still wordlessly holding the datapad for him to take. Annoyance slowly seeps into Prowls frame at the exchange, and he takes the datapad from you.

Prowl gives you a long calculating look. "Do not do it again." He settled on.

You just shrugged, a small smirk curling on your derma. "Okay later then, Pumpkin." You turn and leave before Prowl comprehends this pet name, which makes his helm snap to your retreating form.

Prowl does not enjoy it. The incessant pet names you'd elected to now refer every autobot with. His wings twitch in annoyance whenever you call him "Pumpkin" or "Pudding" or allspark forbid "Peaches." Optimus fully pauldron shaking laughed the first time you'd called him that one. You humiliating Prowl was not how he wanted Optimus to get his R&R. However, he will tolerate it slightly more when Optimus is in the room. If not to watch you make a fool of Optimus, instead of him. Prowl had attempted to scold you the first time he'd seen you call Optimus "Sweetspark." their leaders' finials had pulled back when you'd done so- Optics brightened. But Optimus informed Prowl that he actually does enjoy the pet names. Prowl doesn't understand even after Oprimus's explanation of the supposed "benefits" of your behavior.

But he does look and watch after that and must conceded that there was- some, however mild, merit to the autobots general mood when you'd use your pet names. It was merely a bother in Prowls system, but he supposed he could make the sacrifice for the morale of the autobots.

Prowl wouldn't like it, however.

Ratchets resetting your leg juncture back into place after a battle. You hadn't bothered to come to him till after he got through everyone else. You'd apparently "forgotten" about it in the hustle of making sure everyone else got seen first. Slag is what it was, and Ratchet made sure you knew exactly what he thought. It realigns and clicks into place with you digging a servo against his pauldron with a hissing vent. You relaxed your jaw and nod in gratitude. "Ha- Thanks, love."

Ratchet almost coughs in shock, his plating flaring a touch. But after years of hearing everything from patients in pain or in surgery high on something, he just clicks his glossia. "Next time, don't forget to mention your own injuries."

Ratchet had assumed it was just a slip of the glossia at the time due to the pain and let it slide. Then the next time you're reporting from Optimus to him and call him "Handsome." And he's asking you to repeat that, which you shamelessly do with a smirk. Ratchet scoffed and told you he wasn't going to go any easier on you the next time you forget to come in. No matter how much you try flattering him. Then he sees you with the other autobots and learns you've simply picked this up as a habit.

Ratchet has to resist the urge to roll his optics every time you do it with him. He's gone from being prickly in response with you to half seriously threatening to short your mouth circuit if you didn't stop. But you only continued to do just that. Whenever you called him "Love," his damn spark hummed a touch louder. You've realized that too and tend to only use that more often or not. Much to his- exasperation. Ratchet does enjoy the casual affection to a degree. Reminds him of his younger days. The easier ones. So he doesn't ever throw a wrench at you for the pet names themselves.

Ratchet does definitely enjoy watching the others more than being on the receiving end. Watching Optimus's finials twitch, then pull forward slightly and his plating fluffing in response. Or Ironhide looking like he was going to blow a minor fuse from how bright his own optics were while he unsuccessfully tried to get you to stop. Even Prowls door wings twitching in obvious disdain makes Ratchet crack a smirk at least. So Ratchet let's it be for the most part. They could use some "softer" interactions around the base.

...

He's still telling you to stop whenever you do it to him, though.

Blasters cool with it. He's been in it with the humans at parties or at clubs (the ones he could fit in anyway.) And he's seen and even been on the receiving end of flirting pet names on the occasion. You calling him "Babe" didn't trigger much but an amused smirk. Blaster will return a few casual pet names himself a "Babe" here and there. But what is not cool is Jazz and you being as cringe inducing as possible on his audials. Blaster is sooooo sick of being subjected to you and Jazz's "flirting." It ain't flirting it's a failing clown show!

You'll get more of a fond smile when Blaster sees you pet naming his cassettes. They all fumbled a touch when you'd called them something with sweetness in your tone. Steeljaw, like always, is aloof and focused when you're on the clock. But when you're off? Just chilling at the ark? Steeljaw is a little slagger. Rewind and Eject at least have the decency to only do it when it's natural. Steeljaw will seek you out with his olfactory when you're both off duty to get called sweet names by you.

"I'm so glad you're still here, Foxy." You waved at Jazz, who was standing next to Blaster.

"And I'm so glad to see you too, Snookums." Jazz's tone is so absurd it actually makes Blaster feel physically tired.

"And I'm gonna purge." Blaster bluntly remarks, causing you both to turn to him, then share a look with each other. Jazz smiles in a way Blaster recognizes and is immediately cautious. Blaster jolts when you're suddenly leaning into his space. Your digits are now just barely tracing his boombox buttons.

You smile like a felinoid, and Blasters tries to back up, but Jazz is suddenly pressing up behind him, preventing his escape. Jazz's arms even wrapped around Blasters middle. You speaking makes his gaze snap back to you. "Come on, Baby, don't you wanna have some fun?" You worried your optical ridge, and Blasters glossia is feeling really thick in his mouth now.

Then, his dock compartment snaps open of its own accord, and Steeljaw ejects and forms right into your arms. You just chuckle and heft his cassette into a more comfortable position. "Hey baby! I know you won't say no to a little TLC, Blaster, however..."

Blaster, now broken out of that little trance, shook to break out of Jazz's hold. Jazz, however, did not release him - "Sorry Blaster! You're not approved for release until you enjoy at least five compliments from both of us!" Like pit Blaster was! He wasn't sticking around to hear the kind of slag you both called flirting! Blaster looked at Steeljaw for help only to slack at the smile on his cassettes muzzle. The little traitor!

Bumblebee isn't ambushed by it like the others- He's already heard through the autobot gossip about your new little routine. So he's mostly prepared and more wondering when/what you'd call him. You haven't used a pet name with him yet, so he's waiting on his pedes for it to happen. He half ends up wondering if you'll exclude him for some reason when you finally do it after a minor battle with the cons.

You're doing head count and injury report for Ratchet and get to him. Bumblebee almost trips, but you catch his arm and steady him. "Careful Honey, don't injure yourself after the battle."

Bumblebees optics burn only a touch brighter, but he's mostly amused. "Honey? Because of my designation translation?"

You just smirked, your own amusement growing in your em field. Bumblebee could feel it with how close you were right now. You leaned a touch further into his space. "What? Can't be because you're so sweet?" The heady wave of playful affection in your field mixed with that makes Bumblebees optics brighten in embarrassment proper. You just chuckled and squeezed his arm before moving to continue to make your post battle rounds. While Bumblebee wordlessly watched you go.

Bumblebee enjoys the attention even if it's admittedly embarrassing. Bumblebee thinks he might almost enjoy seeing the other autobots' reactions more than getting your attention himself. Almost anyway. While yeah it's definitely funny watching Ironhide especially try and get you to stop. Bumblebee enjoys each time you share a pet name with him just a little bit more. Bumblebee does admittedly feel a bit giddy whenever it happens. It makes him stand up a bit taller and makes him smile a touch whenever he hears it. A small rush of confidence courses through him every time.

The first time you called Bumblebee, "Lovebug." Though? Bumblebee walked right into one of the ark walls.

"Hey, teddy bear!" Teddy bear-? The small plush toys human children carry around? Skyfire stops when you call it out in the ark hallway, because he had no clue who you'd be directing the name towards... only to watch you wander right up to him. Skyfires optics widen a touch when you stop in front of him and look at him expectantly.

"Am I...?" Skyfire wondered aloud.

You only smirked and simply held out a datapad for him to take "Yeah you, teddy bear, need you to review this for me so I can approve it for Perceptor or not."

"I- Alright." Skyfire took the datapad unsure if he should ask about the name or not.

"Thank you, Darling." Now that one makes Skyfires optics brighten a touch. But you just salute him with two digits and go on your way again.

Skyfire quickly learns this was something of a habit you had picked up when he overhears the twins complaining about their pet names from you. Skyfire finds himself enjoying the affectionate names even if they do fluster him a touch. The affections were kind and freely given out by you. It was refreshing for Skyfire, especially after having joined this vorns long war, to hear them roll off your glossia. To see the crinkle in your optics. And to feel the light affection in your em field if he happened to be close enough to you when you did so. It was- normal. A touch embarrassing yes, but almost painfully normal.

You'd keep switching, but you mostly called him "Bear" or "Teddy bear," and on occasion "Darling". He'd asked about the Teddy bear nickname in particular since he understood darling as a pet name a touch more. And you just smirked and completely unabashed and said, "Humans say it's for someone big, dependable and lovable. So I think it fits pretty well." Skyfire ends up so embarrassed by the casual remark he can feel cobalt on his own faceplate. He ends up putting his servo over his own faceplate and looking anywhere but you. While you just laughed light at Skyfires own expense.

After that exchange, hearing you call him "Bear" or "Teddy bear" makes Skyfires optics brighten more than "Darling."

#transformers x cybertronian reader #transformers x reader #transformers x y/n #prowl x reader #ratchet x reader #blaster x reader #bumblebee x reader #skyfire x reader #transformers #x reader #rabot writes #💛

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miniaturesuitgladiator · 9 months ago

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Batfam x Neglected mortal kombat reader

Lucid dreams...

Notes: this has nothing to do with my other series. Reader is not Bruce's kid in this. Instead readers mom marries bruce. Readers bio dad is scorpion from mk. Reader and readers mom traveled to the DC universe to get away from scorpion. Reader basically saves jason before the joker can kill him. Reader is the oldest kid in this and just for the heck of it were gonna mess up the time line and say that bruce already has tim and damian. I'll explain the rest in another fic if you guys have more questions just ask I don't mind.

-💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗-

Five senses.... Every since you could remember you've had lucid dreams...Dreams that were so so realistic, but in reality they just weren't real. And your Five senses was a way your grandmother had taught you to see if you were having a lucid dream. And right now you hoped you were having a lucid dream..

1. Smell: You know exactly what you smell. It's a fluid that you've learned to deal with every since you were younger. A liquid that now covers your whole body. It's blood ,you smell blood. It's not your blood but you wish it was.....

2. Taste: You can't quite place what you Taste. Maybe it's the food you had earlier? Or maybe you inhaled so much smoke that even your mouth Tastes like it? But that doesn't help much.

3. Touch; 'This one's hard' you think to yourself. Your hands are bawled into firsts. So you feel your finger nails digging into your skin... and your jaw is clenched so tight trying to keep in the words your mind is begging you to say....

4. Hearing: Your mother's voice echoes throughout the batcave and you'd recognize that tone of voice anywhere.. it's not the tone of voice she'd use on Dick, Tim, Jason ,or even damian.. No, that tone of voice was reserved for only You.

But you can also tell that this time you went to far.. Her voice is so cold that if you didn't know any better you'd think that she didn't know you...

5. Sight: your heads hung low... so all you can see is the floor of the batcave...it's unusual for you to look like this but...you're to scared to look up and see your mother's disappointed eyes... you cant.. you must look pathetic right now. But how you look right now is the least of your worries..... But you have to look up to see if this is a lucid dream or not. As you look up you see bruce ,he's leaning against the batcaves computer he's still wearing his batman suit so you can't see his eyes. But you have a feeling you know exactly what his eyes look like under his mask. Then your gaze goes over to your mother's eyes and it's like the whole world freezes..and everything goes silent the only sounds heard is the sound of your heart beating....

You search her eyes hoping to see something else but it's all you can see..

Fear... you see fear in your mother's eyes ....she's scared of you.. scared of what'd you've become... you remember seeing that fear in her eyes long ago. She had looked at your father with that same fear....And you remember promising to yourself that your mother would never have that look in her eyes again because you'd protect her...but how are you supposed to protect her from yourself?

What have you become? 2 hours ago you had thought that you made the right choice.. that sure maybe bruce wouldn't be exactly happy about what you had done but your mother would surely convince him that what you did was reasonable....right?

You had to do it...it was the only way! Right?

No. No, that's what your father would have done....killing the joker wasn't the only way...killing the joker was your father's way ,not the right way. Your hands begin shaking and nomatter how hard you squeeze them they won't stop shaking.

'They don't understand.' You think to yourself. And your right they dont understand what you felt when you saw how the joker had tied jason up like a damn pig. They don't understand the rage you felt... so you look down at the floor again... but you brought jason back alive! Isn't that supposed to count for something? No, to them it doesn't.

Yeah you brought jason home and there happy that you did ,but you didn't have to kill the joker. They know that ,you know that. But it still doesn't feel like that.

Your throat tightens and you feel like you can't breath with all the emotions you feel...

You know that if anyone else was in your position and they would have killed the joker they would have gotten away with a slap on the wrist ...but it's not anyone else..it's you....

The child that was never supposed to be...the child that shouldn't have been born... A bastard child.. A mistake...as you look around the room not daring to look at your mother's eyes any longer you think to yourself ......

'why couldn't this be a damn dream.'

-💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗-

Thanks for reading!

@Taglist: @dhanyasri , @kore-of-the-underworld , @i-adorehannah

#batfamily x reader #platonic Batfam x reader #platonic bruce wayne x reader #dc x mk #fem reader #yandere platonic Batfam #mortal combat reader #platonic Batfam x fem reader #batsis reader #older sister reader #crossover #daughter reader #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam

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save-the-villainous-cat · 6 months ago

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If you're open for suggestions for spooky month, i would like to see a hero saving vampire villain from a hunter pleeaaase you can make it spicy at the end if you want

"Hm..." The hero tilted their head and stared at the hunter.

The hunter they had handcuffed to the streetlight, the hunter they had beaten bloody. The hero wasn't proud of it, but they could allow themselves at least a little bit of satisfaction, right?

"Don't think you can push up your score by hunting in my district, alright? Consider that next time, I am quite territorial after all..." The hunter was barely able to let out a grunt. Blood was dripping down their sides, but the hero didn't deem it serious enough to call an ambulance.

Instead, they observed the hunter's weapon in their hand, weighing it lazily.

"Killing for money is pretty nasty," the hero said. "You're quite capable, but this job? Damn. Cruel."

Once again, the hunter didn't answer and the hero simply shrugged.

"Oh, man. Tough crowd." Their attention shifted and they decided they'd let the hunter rot there for the time being. After all, the hero was out for bigger fish. Their gaze lingered on the alleyway first. They supposed the hunter had caught the villain and they must have gotten very lucky, considering that the hunter was still in one piece.

Upon investigation, the hero did find the villain bound in chains, metal burning through flesh, but their nemesis was quiet. Almost immediately, the hero dropped next to them and did their best to free their nemesis from the chains.

They made sure to stay alerted, preparing themselves for anything, but they didn't expect their nemesis to let their head drop, resting it on the hero's shoulder.

"You there?" The hero heard them take in a deep breath.

"Shut up," the villain mumbled.

"You're pretty weak..." The hero pressed their palm against the villain's forehead, but realized quickly that wouldn't give them any information whatsoever.

Still. Touch was still touch.

"Shush. You always talk so much," the villain murmured.

The hero was a little aimless; something like this had never happened before. The villain had never been this close to them, nor had they ever had a conversation that didn't completely consist of threats. Whatever the hunter had done to their nemesis, it was pretty disgusting.

The hero knew the villain was mostly drug-resistent but still, the hero considered the possibility of them being poisoned. What else could have weakened them like this? They weren't injured, except for the burns of the metallic chains.

If there was some kind of new poison going around, the hero needed to know about it.

"...do you..." They took in a breath. It was probably incredibly irresponsible. "...do you want some blood from me?"

The villain raised their head and the hero realized they cradled their own nemesis a little too lovingly.

They cleared their throat when they saw the villain's puppy eyes stare at them. Their pupils were blown up.

"Blood?" The villain let their gaze wander to the hero's throat, their eyes were sleepy and definitely not as sharp as the maniacal stare that came over them whenever they got hungry.

"Just a little," the hero clarified. "I'd like to ask you a few questions and I need reliable answers."

"...okay, fine." The hero didn't think they were blushing, but for some reason, their cheeks felt pretty hot.

They bowed down and the villain's icy fingers quickly grabbed the back of the hero's neck carefully. They even slipped under the hero's collar every now and then which made the hero's eyes widen uncontrollably.

At first they could feel the villain's lips against their throat, then their teeth. The hero braced themselves for the upcoming pain, for those long fangs to dig through skin and reach tissue, but it never came.

The villain merely sucked on the hero's skin. It felt quite...pleasurable?

Their heart was beating hard enough to hurt.

They were probably contravening several regulations by being this close to the villain alone. Additionally, the villain was a wanted vampire that liked to leave gruesome crime scenes. They were certainly not in the best position.

"...are you giving me hickeys?" the hero asked eventually. The villain's movements were less drowsy now.

"Is that a problem?"

"Oh, well...uhm..."

"Sensing blood clears my mind, I don't need to drink it to recover. The closer I am to it, the better." The villain took in a deep breath and leaned back in the hero's arms. "It's pretty adorable that you've come to my rescue, though. And that you, y'know, were willing to sacrifice yourself so heroically."

"Pff." The hero rolled their eyes, but they didn't really dare to look at their nemesis. How on earth were they supposed to explain those hickeys to their colleagues? It wasn't like the villain had held back on purpose. "Sacrifice? You're funny..."

Besides, it wasn't like it had felt like torture - it was certainly not looking like the hero had suffered - but the hero wasn't...they didn't...they hadn't enjoyed that, right? Considering that the hero had always prioritized their work, they had never given anyone a chance. Not really.

They had had kissed someone before, but that was such a long time ago that the hero wasn't even sure if that still counted. And even then, they had never really let anyone get close enough to give them hickeys.

"Ask your questions."

"Huh?"

"You had questions for me?" The villain's hand was on their forearm. Why were the hero's eyes glued to that?

"Sorry, I...I think I forgot."

"Hm." The villain looked them up and down. "You're certainly entertaining today."

"Eh." Nothing. The hero couldn't come up with anything. They were too confused to be embarrassed. Why was their head not working?

"Well, I can give you my number in case you remember. It's a burner phone, though. So, you can try locating me but I doubt it will work."

"Oh...yes. That. Yeah. Sure. That's actually very nice." They stared at the ground. What? Had the villain cursed them somehow? Why couldn't the hero focus?

"Good. I will contact you once you're home," the villain said. "Also, you can go to bat for me more often. Hah, get it? Bat?"

"Very funny."

"Damn. Tough crowd." The villain winked. "Anyway, see ya."

And with that, they disappeared into thin air, leaving the hero to sit there, in the alleyway staring at the ground for at least 20 more minutes, before going home.

#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #vampire villain #villain vampire #human x vampire #vampire x human

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k0nanharv3y · 6 months ago

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Am I giving Tim too much power and making him almost untouchable with many plot holes, and in fact, nothing you read will make sense? Yes, I am doing that, is there a problem?

Robin Hood AU Part 1

Tim Drake Saved Gotham from Batman. Yeah, but lets say that he didn't do it becoming Robin

He Saved Gotham by becoming the focus of attention and method of anger release for Batman

///

And then there was a new rogue in Gotham. Batman didn't know who they were, what did they wanted, and why they seemed to be targeting only him. Inside and outside the mask, as Bruce Wayne and as the Dark Knight

He didn't have time for this, when he had them, when he found out who they were, he would destroy them, if necessary he would burn the world down, because his world burned with his son in that warehouse. Whoever the guy behind the attacks was, he would know the full wrath of the Dark Knight

But Tim was already hiding well from Batman right under his nose, Tim grew up following, watching and absorbing everything from the adults around him. But most of all he learned not to make mistakes. Tim would use the mistakes of the Joker, of Riddle, of each and every one of Gotham's rogues and learn not to leave clues, not to get caught, to hide right next to Batman, because it's a popular lie, Batman doesn't have eyes in the back of his head. The extra eyes he had died in Ethiopia

Tim had resources, time and only 12 years old, he was still moldable, he could fill any mold to perfection, so he forced himself to fit the mold of the rogue that Gotham would love. Because Tim wouldn't go for the city, he loved Gotham too much to destroy it trying to save a man who seemed to be digging his own grave, one in which he was dragging the city with him. Tim strategically targeted Bruce Wayne and Batman so that the man would get a slap in the face for his behavior. And if a building exploded, Tim would make sure that the people who worked or lived there would have good insurance and new jobs and compensation from Wayne Enterprises.

And Batman turned against the rogue who forced him to bury his own pain with his son and went to fight this guy who seemed to be virtually and physically everywhere. Batman knew the guy knew his identity, because the attacks were personal, lethal in any case, he was playing with him, mocking him. Until he seemed to stop

One day a letter on his door telling Batman how sorry he was and that "I had done what had to be done" and "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Wayne, but you were destroying the city with you" was all he got before the depressing silence of a quiet city -No, not a city, of Quiet Gotham-

The world kept turning and both lives continued

One next to the other

///

Steph became Robin long before because Batman was trying to open his heart to another child, Cassandra arrived just as she was supposed to, Steph never died because Batman was there and Dick made peace with the brother he could never love and loved his sisters and when Jason came back to life there was no vengeance in his blood because Batman never replaced him 10 minutes after Jason died. Yes, he was angry at the Joker and Batman's inability to kill him, but someone else did and Jason will embrace whoever did it. And when Damian got home everything was fine and he didn't steal the mantle from anyone because Steph was eager to give it to someone else and get Batman off her ass.

And Tim's life was lonely. His parents never stopped being absent, and the plane crash still happened because that wasn't because he was Robin, but because he was simply a living being. (Yes, I'm changing things up here) Janet was left in a coma and Jack died and in the end he was just a kid in a mansion that was too big, but so afraid of depending on someone (the last time he saw someone depending on someone else he had to blow up several buildings and cyberbully them to calm them down) who took the reins of Drake Industries and invented an uncle just to not be put in the system and still be off the bats' radar

And then Batman died

///

Hey you!, Yeah you!, Imagine that in the middle of the Bats' life, every time someone (a rogue) attacked Gotham, Tim would appear out of nowhere and digitally betray them to the Bats, and if Oracle isn't mentioned here, it's because you and I know that she would dismantle Tim from day one, so shut up, she's busy with her Birds of Prey or something, I DON'T KNOW, I'VE BEEN AWAKE FOR 26 HOURS

Part 2 of this bullshit

Part 3 cuz somehow I manage to make another one of these

Part 4

Part 5??????? Why????

Part 6 ma british accent write this

Part 7.5 We've gotten fanciers

Part 8 It took more than a while

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cobaltperun · 8 months ago

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Eternal Flame (16) - The Line

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Chapter summary: The long awaited reunion after months apart.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part / Next part

Word Count: 5.2k

-I can feel the light shine on my face-

You were just done watching some cooking TV show when you heard knocking on your door and that was strange to say the least. It was just past five PM, and Barbara said she wouldn't drop by, and she sounded like she would be really busy with her family. Not to mention Barbara never knocked, she just barged in like a very confident and determined burglar. And Hugh, the only other person you would expect to show up, wasn't even in the States, he went to Australia for a bit, so there really wasn't anyone who could show up. There was Jenna, but she was supposed to come tomorrow, so you figured maybe it was one of your neighbors dropping by for something.

Regardless of who it was you hopped to your feet and, with a bounce to your steps you haven't really gotten used to, you went over to the doors and opened them. And the sight in front of you was the most beautiful sight you have ever seen. “Jen,” you whispered, her name falling from your lips like a prayer, and both of you stood there, just taking the sight of one another in. She was beautiful, her hair was falling in soft waves, her face was damn near free from makeup and somehow even more beautiful than you remembered. And the baby blue sweater hugging her figure looked incredible on her. She was dressed in a casual, comfortable manner, and that was Jenna you knew. You couldn't find any words to say, you just let the emotions overtake you and it looked like both of you moved at the same time as she jumped into your arms, and you lifted her up.

“Y/N,” Jenna whispered your name, burying her face in the crook of your neck as she wrapped her legs and arms around you. On the other hand you couldn't decide what to do with your own hands, and eventually just wrapped them around her, hoping you could just pull her in as much as physically possible. All of your senses were filled with her, the touch of her hands, the feel of her body pressed against yours, the smell of her perfume and something that was uniquely her, the sound of her soft shuddering breaths. The sight in front of your eyes as you turn your head slightly and just looked at the side of her face, at the way her lips trembled and her eyes remained tightly shut closed. You took it all in, not wanting to miss anything. “This is finally happening,” her voice cracked, and you ran your fingers through her hair.

“I'm right here, Jen, you've got all of me,” you assured her and she pulled her head back slightly, looking you in the eyes and like there was some sort of mutual understanding between you, you just both leaned in. You kissed her lips and if you died at that very moment you would have died happy and satisfied because that must have been what happened, otherwise how else could you explain the heavenly taste of her lips. She was yours, she loved you back, and you couldn't hold anything back, you deepened the kiss, pouring all of your love into it. You stumbled to the other side of the hall and pressed her against the wall, so you could properly touch her. Jenna hummed into the kiss, her fingers digging into your hair, sliding back down to your cheeks, almost frantic in the way she moved. You felt her legs tightening around your waist as she pushed against you harder, and she gasped, biting her lower lip to hold back the sounds she may have been tempted to make.

She looked you in the eyes and kissed you again, as if your lips were the only way she could keep those sounds restrained. You still kept her up with your right hand wrapped around her lower back, all the while your left hand currently caressed her face, your thumb brushing against her neck, up to her jaw and tilting her head slightly so you could kiss her deeper. You could feel her desperately trying to remove any distance between your bodies, rocking slightly against you. Jenna opened her lips and you felt her tongue against your lips and who were you to reject or deny her anything.

The need for air did become too strong and Jenna pulled back gasping for air since you began kissing down her neck needing to feel her. She panted slightly into your ear, and you cursed your lack of control. “Jen, you deserve so much better than this empty hall for our first kiss,” it was too late though, you kissed in front of your apartment, not even being able to wait until you were inside. Sure, the walls were thick, and no one would hear you, but Jenna deserved so much more than this, and that made you finally snap out of your desperation to hold and kiss her enough to turn around, pulling her away from the wall. “Hold on to me,” you said.

“You don't need to tell me twice, I'm not letting you go,” Jenna gasped, and it felt like one of the more difficult things you had to do was to let go of her to pick up her suitcases and just carry them inside your apartment. You didn’t even carry them far, just beyond the doorstep, nothing else matters as long as you could close the doors behind you. “Lock the doors,” Jenna whispered before going for another searing hot kiss as you fumbled with the key to lock the doors. And you remained there, leaning back on the doors as Jenna moved her legs to your sides instead,

“Don't plan on leaving anytime soon, huh?” you said, overcome with happiness as Jenna tilted your chin, making you look at her. And all you could see in her eyes was pure desire and love, and you could see yourself being driven insane by her eyes, by her beautiful, dark brown, expressive eyes, that were right now looking at you like nothing else besides the two of you mattered.

“We have a lot of time to make up for,” she was holding on to you like the very thought of leaving you again physically hurt. “I need you,” she leaned head back, baring her neck to you in complete surrender and all you could feel from her was ‘I'm all yours, do with me whatever you want to do’ as you latched on to her neck, quickly finding the spot that made her moan. You found yourself thinking that if you've never heard another sound aside from whatever sound left Jenna’s lips you wouldn't have been missing out on anything.

Jenna gasped, overcome by emotions neither of you could restrain. You leaned against the doors harder, otherwise your knees would have buckled how much all of this affected you. “Jenna,” you whispered her name, your heart soaring with every sigh of pleasure slipping past her lips.

“I love you,” she whispered and it felt as if all the truths of the world concentrated into those three words she spoke while leaning her forehead against your own.

“I love you too,” you told her and finally found the strength and the clarity of mind to take her into the living room, but the smile on her face told you she didn't quite want to let go of you. Still, you made your way to the sofa and slightly bent down to let Jenna back down. At least that was what you planned, she seemed more than comfortable clinging to you like a koala. “Someone's very comfortable, I see,” you said, unable to suppress the smile on your face as she peppered your face with kisses and you made a mental note to, now that you could actually do it, kiss each and every freckle on her face.

“Mhm, very comfortable. Have I ever told you how much I love how strong you are?” she gripped your biceps and let out a content sigh at the feel of the muscles underneath the fabric of your shirt. “You just drive me wild, if I'm being honest,” that might be something you should keep in the back of your mind for some time later.

“Yeah, you have no right to complain, Jen,” you lowered her onto the sofa, or rather pressed her back against it, while you still carried her in your arms. You looked at her and decided to do exactly what you wanted, you started kissing the adorable and very much inviting freckles on her face.

“Oh my God, you're doing that!” Jenna laughed, but she wasn't backing away, not even a bit. “You're so corny,” she lightly swatted your back, but with the way she turned her head slightly to give you better access to her freckles told you she very much enjoyed it.

“Mhm, and you are irresistibly beautiful,” you missed her so much. You finally had her in your arms, showing her just how much and in what way you loved her. But eventually your phone rang and you noticed you left it at the kitchen table, way too far from where you were right now.

“Your phone,” Jenna reminded you, though she sounded incredibly annoyed by that interruption. Still, she dropped her arms from around you, letting you go, only for you to pull her back against you, showing her that you couldn’t give a damn. And Jenna laughed, that breathy, adorable laugh of hers encouraging you as you returned to kissing her neck, slowly but surely leaving small marks upon her skin.

“Let it ring, I don't give a fuck who it is,” you had something a lot more important than whoever was calling you in front of you. Especially when Jenna moaned a bit louder as you left a nice and rather prominent hickey on the side of her neck. You sure hoped she either brought a scarf or something to cover herself up, or simply didn't intend to leave your apartment anytime soon.

“Good,” she pushed you slightly and you moved according to how she wanted you to as she went and swapped your position and straddled you. She smiled mischievously, and though she didn't go far, she slipped her hands right underneath your shirt feeling your abs. “Fuck,” she hissed, her nails digging lightly into your flesh as she pretty much did the same thing you've been doing to her until now and made it her mission to mark your neck without a care in the world about how visible the hickeys would be. “All mine,” she whispered into your ear, while slowly bringing her hand up, and over your shirt, up your upper body, all the way to your lips and you caught it with your own hand, kissing the tips of her fingers as the two of you just looked into each other's eyes.

Your phone began ringing again, and you still ignored it, lost in her, lost in the feel of her body on top of yours. She slowly brushed her fingers along your arms, kissing you on the lips again. Her tongue slipped right past your lips and met your own, and despite the heat between you the kiss turned slow and sensual. You were sure you would have left a string of saliva between you when you pulled back to breathe in, if only you separated enough for a string to form.

And the kisses kept coming and coming, soaked in desperation and love and longing that was finally over, all the while your phone insistently kept ringing, and before you knew it, you had five missed calls within twenty minutes and your phone was ringing once more.

“OK, now that's just ridiculous. I might as well pick up, or we'll be hearing that for the rest of the day,” and though reluctantly, Jenna agreed with you. She separated from you and sat down on the sofa as you got up and grabbed your phone seeing that it was Tom, your agent. “My agent, I should take this. I’ll make it quick,” you told her and she nodded, understanding how the job was. Besides you just made the man call you for the sixth time so neither of you could really complain much about the brief break in the reunion. “What's up?” you asked as you answered your phone and tried to sound like you weren't just recently flustered and very much affected by what you and Jenna just did.

“What's up?! This is the sixth time I'm calling you! You got the fucking role in that movie you auditioned for, filming is in May. Jesus, I won't even ask what you were doing!” he was actually pissed and all you were thinking about was that this really could have been an e-mail, or at the very least a text message instead of requiring a call.

“OK, OK, thanks for telling me. Have a great day,” you told him and he hung up, angry and annoyed and you caught yourself wondering if you could just hire Barbara as your agent slash stylist slash whatever you needed because as far as the roles went you pretty much dealt with all of that on your own. Tom was just checking the paperwork and negotiating the payment, and knowing Barbara, she would do that a lot better.

You turned your phone off after that, not wanting to get to the repeat of what's been happening in the background of your and Jenna’s make out session. And then you just leaned back against the table, watching Jenna as she was sitting sideways, looking at you all proud and happy and you couldn't help but be drawn to her swollen lips and neck turning red from all the kissing you left on it.

“Got a new role,” she guessed, and you nodded.

“Don't really know too many details right now, but looks like I'll be filming in May,” and the smile on Jenna’s face just became wider at that new information.

“Good, I’m free until May as well,” Jenna got up and joined you, her fingers playing with the waistband of your pants, and actually innocently this time, she was just pulling you a bit closer. “Just means we can properly catch up, spend a month and a half the way we should have a long time ago,” she whispered, and you completely agreed with her as she slipped her thumb under the collar of your shirt and pulled it aside. She kissed your shoulder before her other hand reached up to the back of your head and she pulled you lower, once more letting her lips touch your own. “I could kiss you all day long,” she spoke, her lips mere fragments of an inch away from your own.

“I like the sound of that,” and you truly did, she was mesmerizing. And then a sound neither of you quite expected echoed through the room and you both looked down looking at Jenna’s belly as her stomach growled and she blushed.

“Well, that's an embarrassing way to break the moment,” she looked away from you, more than a little bit embarrassed by what just happened. But her stomach remained merciless, growling and complaining about being empty.

And you, finding all of this adorable and wanting to tease her a bit, went down on one knee and poked her belly. “So, what are you in the mood for, grumpy?” and all you got as a response was Jenna stammering to come up with some answer as her stomach growled again. “Something sweet? Pancakes, crepes? I don't think you can wait for some pastry. Hm? What are you in the mood for?” you finally looking into Jenna’s eyes as you kissed her over her shirt and if anyone ever physically melted into a puddle then it was Jenna after that very moment. She just looked at you, completely speechless. “I can keep doing this until you answer,” you grinned and kept kissing her over the shirt.

“Maybe I want that,” Jenna finally found some words to string together as a proper response, though it wasn't quite what you were looking for. You looked her in the eyes, silently asking for permission as you slowly lifted her shirt up, and when her lips parted and she watched you in anticipation you went and kissed her bare skin. You could see goosebumps on her skin as your fingers brushed along her sides and she clutched your shoulders. “Fuck! Uh, crepes, crepes, I want crepes!” she exclaimed, and you kissed her belly one more time before you got back up.

“Well, that worked,” you teased her slightly as you went to the kitchen to grab everything you needed to make crepes.

“Yeah, well I had to do something before I got hungry for something else,” she said, following you with a chair to sit down in the kitchen while you began mixing the ingredients. You felt the heat crawling up so your cheeks at the implications of her words. “If you kept that up we wouldn't have lasted an hour let alone twelve hours,” you had no idea what twelve hours meant but you certainly understood what Jenna was saying.

And you went and slapped your cheek, because you had a meal to prepare instead of letting your mind wander off to definitely not innocent ideas. At least Jenna laughed at you, adoring the way both of you could affect one another so easily.

~X~

Jenna watched you as you worked, mixing in the ingredients for the crepes, and she couldn't believe she let this distance lasts for so long. She could have had this perhaps even that night in Denver, almost three months ago. Well, better late than never, she supposed. This was all she wanted and needed, and you were giving her all of it, passionate and intense with every display of affection you've shown her today.

And then she noticed some changes in the apartment. You bought a bigger table, one that could fit six people comfortably and maybe even more if needed, and you've added the TV and now the apartment had several shelves with some small figures, or books and movies. It was definitely a lot more personal than it was the last time she came here. “When did all of this happen?” she asked, curious.

“Last week. I was actually quite busy doing all of this,” you told her, and she slowly began piecing the timeline together. Whatever happened while you were filming The Daughter took you out of the stupor you were in, and now all she could feel from this apartment was warmth and welcoming feeling, permeating the air. It finally felt lived in instead of barren and depersonalized. And then something else caught her attention as she saw a couple of photos framed on the wall.

“Can I go and look at them?” she asked and pointed at the photos.

“Of course, Jen, you can do anything,” you said and actually joined her when she reached the wall. So, she fell back against you and instinctively you went and wrapped your arm around her waist, holding her close.

She looked at the first photo and she finally got to see them, even if it was just on a photograph. Your parents were with you, your mother holding you up while your father hugged both of you, you looked like you were maybe five or six years old and you had the toothy grin on your face radiating with so much happiness. It turned out you looked like both of your parents, inheriting the best traits of both of them.

“It was mom's birthday and all she wanted was just to have a nice family dinner, so dad and I went and made it for her. Well, it was really just dad, I was more of a nuisance rather than a helping hand. But I will say that I managed to professionally bring him anything he needed while he was making dinner,” you explained, and more than the story what took Jenna by surprise was the ease with which you talked about your parents. You spoke with fondness, rather than the pain of loss that was there the one and only time she heard you talk about them before.

“Was he a better cook or was it your mom?” she asked, knowing you also learnt to cook from your neighbor, but maybe your parents also had a role in it.

“Dad, absolutely! Mom was focused on work and while she could cook she did it out of necessity, he did it out of passion. Never really got to teach me, he wasn’t the most patient teacher so by the time we got to sometimes cook together I already knew more or less what I was doing,” you laughed at the memory and Jenna wondered which other similarities you picked up from your parents. She would have plenty of time to figure it out, that much she knew.

Her eyes fell on the second photo, you and Barbara, on, from the looks of it, Barbara’s high school prom. She looked stunning, yet what caught Jenna’s attention was the lack of your own outfit appropriate for the occasion.

You noticed her confusion. “Oh yeah, I never got to tell you. Because of what happened to my parents I ended up being absent a lot and had to repeat a grade so I actually graduated the year after Barbara did,” you explained and once again Jenna noticed there was no sorrow in your voice, there was just raw emotion, simple acceptance, and a healthy approach to what you went through.

The third photo she noticed was actually from Logan, you and Hugh in your costumes, with claws on your hands, but very much happy and grinning at the camera, unlike Laura and Logan would.

“You looked so cute when you were filming Logan,” she was still in awe at how well you acted in that movie, and she had to admit she had seen the movie quite a lot of times while she was away from you, trying her best to have at least some semblance of you in her life.

“I'm no longer cute? Is that what you're trying to say?” she was noticing so many differences in you, in the best way possible. You were so much quicker to respond in a light-hearted way, so much warmer and gentler, if that was even possible. And she believed that even before everything happened you were one of the most loving people she got to meet, and now you were just taking up to eleven.

“Not exactly the word I’d use. More like ridiculously hot,” she's muttered, taking the opportunity while you got slightly embarrassed to peck you on the lips.

And the final photo hanging on the wall was actually the two of you, from the last day on the set of Scream. It was the selfie she took, and that was very much a photo she often went back to and was currently her lock screen. And of all the other photos you probably had, this was the one you hung on your wall, the one where you were hugging, side by side and very much looking close.

“I am very much open to adding more photos to any wall you want,” you told her, softly kissing the side of her neck before pulling back slightly. And she could see it in your eyes that you wanted so many photos of the two of you together, and she wanted that just as much as you did.

“With pleasure,” she agreed, capturing your lips once more in a soft, quick kiss.

“Speaking of pleasure,” oh, she was doomed. The way you said that made her knees weak, and got her mind stuck in a gutter. How much more could you affect her when all you had to do to get her worked up was go down to your knees and kiss her stomach. “I should really go and make those crepes,” you were such an asshole for that, you had her worked up and you knew where you were going with that! Jenna stared at you as you pulled away, laughing and going back to the kitchen to make the crepes.

She should have eaten before she came here, she just couldn't. She was that nervous and it turned out she had absolutely nothing to be nervous about.

Half an hour later the two of you were sitting at the table, with enough crepes to fill her up, and for you to grab a snack as well. Jenna went and brought the strawberry jam from the fridge and figured that, along with some chocolate syrup, would be good enough for the filling. But instead of letting her fill her own crepe, you went and did it for her. Placing it on her plate and moving on to the next one. And Jenna just humored you, biting into the soft, sweet crepe and moaning at the wonderful taste of it.

“Oh my God, I missed your cooking so much,” she commented, wiping a bit jam that spilled on to her chin and she saw it caught your eyes and just smiled behind the crepe.

You placed the second one on her plate when she was about halfway done with her current one, and leaned in, stealing a bite of her crepe. “Yeah, tastes good,” you winked at her and what could she even say? How could she react other than just feel herself sinking into the pool of happiness.

There were still some things you needed to talk about, but how could she when she hasn't felt this happy in so long. She was in no rush to break this bubble the two of you formed around each other. She hasn’t seen you in two and a half months, she wanted to make up for that time.

You were done with the quick meal and slipped into a comfortable routine, washing the dishes together and then just going to the living room to watch TV. You turned on some random channel neither of you caring for. It didn’t matter what was on the TV, it was basically a background noise, all she really wanted was to cuddle with you. To just sit next to you and lean her head on you as you hugged her, everything else faded away into the background.

Before she knew it, the hours passed and it was already close to ten at night, and she has been at your apartment for almost 5 hours. The time passed like the blink of an eye, wonderful and filled with occasional kisses and gentle touches from both of you. “You know, we have a month and a half off for ourselves,” she said, finally breaching that subject.

“What do you want to do?” you asked, and she knew the answer, she had no idea.

“I don't care as long as it's with you?” and that was the truth. You could spend the month and a half right here in Denver, only leaving the apartment to get groceries or things like that, and she’d be happy.

“Well now, we can't have that. Don't copy my answer,” you complained as you gently booped her nose for no reason whatsoever. And if you wanted to play that game so could she, as she lightly caught your finger between teeth before letting go, because you just went and pull her into you making her rest most of her upper body on top of you. You even went and slightly ruffled her hair and she just burst out laughing, prompting you to join her as well. For a moment both of you forgot about what you were talking about, having too much fun with each other. Jenna should have guessed you wouldn’t get any proper talking done today, you missed each other too much and you were too excited by being together like this. “Well, that works too, we can always figure it out later. For now, we can just relax.”

And Jenna agreed with that statement completely. There was another thing on her mind though. “I-“ she began, but changed her mind. Your mood was too good to risk ruining it over something that could be addressed later, but you caught it, of course you did, you were sometimes too attentive for her own good.

“Yeah?” you prompted her and when she didn't continue you tilted her head and looked her in the eyes. “Don't hold anything back from me, Love,” you whispered so softly.

“It can wait, it's OK,” Jenna tried to reassure you, only for you to shake your head.

“No time like the present. I can see it's bothering you, and I don't want that to last until the morning,” you caught her, you absolutely caught her.

“I told my parents filming got delayed, we have a week before they expect me to return. After that… I am not sure how to handle this. I mean, do I hide us from them, or should I just tell them?” and you contemplated her words, taking a moment to think things through.

Finally, you spoke up. “I'll support you whatever you choose Jen. if you want to keep us a secret I'll be keeping it with you, and if you want to go and tell them, I'll once again be right there with you. Whenever you struggle, or when something makes you worried, I don't care how difficult it will be to do it, I'll be there for you to make it easier, no matter what,” you said and she just wondered how many times could she fall for you even harder than before. Every time she thought she must have reached her limit, and then she just fell even harder, again and again, knowing she’d keep falling for you for the rest of her life.

“You're incredible,” she made the decision, no matter what the reaction of her parents would be she would not hide you from them. She would hide this from the rest of the world, selfishly keeping you all to herself as much as she could, but she would never deny you to her parents and family. “I'll tell them,” and you nodded completely supporting her in that decision.

And then it happened, a kiss turned into another make-out session and it took you to your bedroom, and it turned out it didn't even take her six hours to end up exactly the way Barbara said she would. There she was, with you, in your bed completely naked, lost in the throes of passion. She completely gave herself to you, giving you everything she had and making love to you.

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A/N: I need you all to know this was all done in less than 5 hours. Make it worth it, leave a reply/send an ask if you're shy to recover a sleep deprived author's energy. 🤣🤣

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oliversrarebooks · 2 months ago

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The Rare Bookseller Part 98: Fitzwilliam's Comfort

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tw: mind control, amnesia, aftermath of torture

December 1905

Fitzwilliam thought he was used to being constantly terrified, but he'd somehow found a new sort of fear he didn't know he had.

Once the ball had ended and all of the vampires had been filed out of the manor, Fitzwilliam had been handed over to Mr. Alexander with little fanfare. Mr. Alexander had wasted no time bundling him into a carriage and now --

Now there was an impossibly soft and gentle hand on his face, as he looked into stormy eyes.

"Fitz," Mr. Alexander said.

Fitzwilliam couldn't make sense of it, how familiar Mr. Alexander was being. The soft touches didn't make sense. He'd humiliated his master in front of a crowd. He should be punished for that. He didn't earn any kindness and didn't deserve it and he knew he was bound to pay for it later.

So he couldn't fully enjoy the caress, no matter how much his body quietly yearned for it, nor could he flinch away from his new master. He hadn't been trained for this and didn't know what he was supposed to do, and that meant that whatever he did do would be wrong.

But why -- why was it, despite it all, that Mr. Alexander said he was perfect?

Mr. Alexander seemed more concerned than upset. "Fitz, don't you remember me?"

It was like a bucket of ice water. He'd forgotten something. He was always forgetting important things, and the worst part was how little control he had over it. There had been so many things to remember when he was being trained, so many that it was almost impossible to keep them all in his head at once, and every mistake meant another lash, or worse.

There was a distant voice in his head, one that he thought had been in his head longer than any vampire, telling him that if he actually cared, he wouldn't forget.

But he knew deep inside that he cared about Mr. Alexander, and yet, he had forgotten something critical.

"I remember you, sir," he said, trying to calm his nerves so as not to annoy his new master, "but if I've forgotten something necessary, please give me appropriate punishments." He bowed his head and held his hands out to show his submission.

"I've never punished you, and I'm certainly not going to now," said Mr. Alexander. "What has he done to you?"

Fitzwilliam wasn't sure what to make of that. "He trained me so that I would be more acceptable to you, sir."

"To me?"

"That's why I was sent to the Maestro, sir, wasn't it? So that I could be trained to be good for you."

"No," said Mr. Alexander, who seemed horrified. "No, no -- I didn't do that. I would never do that, I would never send you to him."

Fitzwilliam dared to glance up, furrowing his eyebrows before arranging his face back into a neutral expression. Mr. Alexander wasn't making any sense. If he hadn't been given to the Maestro for training, then how did he end up there?

Mr. Alexander was touching his cheek again, tipping his head up gently to look him in the eye. "He's made you forget, hasn't he? He's burrowed into your head like a worm. Damn it!" He sounded so angry, as if it were Fitzwilliam's fault for being under the Maestro's control. If Mr. Alexander didn't want that, didn't want any of the training he'd done, then what had all of the pain and the sleepless nights been for?

"I'll have to cash in that favor that Lily promised me. I'll get her to dig him out of your head as much as she can, I promise."

"Yes, sir," said Fitzwilliam, not sure what his new master meant.

"Do you remember Lily?"

Fitzwilliam was relieved to know the answer to this. "Yes, sir, she danced with me at the gala."

Apparently, that was still not the right answer. "I never dreamed he would erase so much," he muttered, mostly to himself. "But before we can start fixing that, I'll have to attend to all of your more immediate needs -- physical injuries, food and water, and sleep. You look so tired, Fitz. I can tell you've been without proper food and sleep."

The word sleep echoed through him, making him intensely aware of his exhaustion. When Mr. Alexander said it, it made Fitzwilliam feel as though he could drop off to sleep right then and there, filling his mind with visions of beds and pillows and being allowed to rest, at least for a moment. His eyelids felt heavy, his body aching for it. If his new master allowed him to sleep even a little more than his old master did, he'd almost be willing to endure any punishment for that privilege.

Fitzwilliam did nothing to resist Mr. Alexander as he pulled him closer. "There's so much you don't remember now," Mr. Alexander murmured in his ear while stroking his hair, and it felt so heavenly that Fitzwilliam could hardly bring himself to think that he didn't earn this and that there would be consequences. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, as if reading Fitzwilliam's mind. Maybe he could. "I promise that you'll be safe with me, at least for a time, as long as I can keep you safe."

Some buried part of him wanted to trust his new master so, so badly. "Thank you, sir." The world blurred around him as he allowed his heavy eyes to droop. Perhaps he truly wouldn't be punished if he were to just rest them for a moment…

"Fitz, we're here," said Mr. Alexander, shaking him gently awake.

Fitzwilliam sat up with a start, half expecting a blow, as when he fell asleep at the piano. He should have known he would fall asleep, but Mr. Alexander didn't seem angry at all, smiling at him with a look that he couldn't bear to interpret as fondness.

The brick manor loomed before them in the gloom of the night, strangely familiar. Emotions swirled within Fitzwilliam, fear and uncertainty but also happiness and a sense of comfort. Mr. Alexander produced a key from his pocket and gently guided Fitzwilliam inside.

The first thing he noticed was the smell of old books. It was everywhere, and Fitzwilliam relaxed further. He had been here before, of course, as Mr. Alexander had been his original master, but his memories were vague and twinged with unease. It was strange, then, that the smell of his place was so relaxing.

Mr. Alexander lit some gas lamps, revealing an entranceway clogged with bookshelves and other assorted clutter. It better resembled the home of an absent-minded academic than a vampire. A dusty intellectual, he thought, wondering where the idea had come from.

"Follow me into the kitchen, won't you?" said Mr. Alexander, beckoning him through a door.

The kitchen was a more cheerful place than the Maestro's kitchen had been, with more up-to-date fixtures, but the primary thing of concern to Fitzwilliam was the smell. Chicken broth, he thought, and his stomach betrayed him by grumbling loudly. In all of the time he'd been trained, he'd never quite gotten used to the meager amounts of food afforded him and the rest of the thralls, the stomachaches and headaches that haunted him at all times as his useless body pleaded for more food. It was enough to keep him alive, but never enough to come close to satisfying him. He tried to swallow down his need, hoping it wasn't too obvious.

Mr. Alexander moved a large pot to the stove and lit it. "I knew you'd be hungry, but I wanted to get you something that would be easy on your stomach, so I had the housekeeper make a batch of chicken soup. I've also procured some reasonably fresh bread, and there's butter, jam, and cheese to go with it -- I hope it's all to your liking."

Fitzwilliam blinked uncertainly. This had to be a dream. "Yes, sir."

"I'm just going to warm up the soup. Would you prefer to eat, or have me take a look at your injuries?"

Fitzwilliam wasn't meant to have opinions or make decisions, but nonetheless, he blurted it out without thinking: "I prefer to eat, sir."

He flinched away, expecting punishment, but instead Mr. Alexander was smiling. "Food it is, then." A loaf of bread was produced from nowhere and Mr. Alexander began to cut thick slices. The vampire was making him food, as if he were the master instead of the servant. He would have panicked if it didn't feel so comfortable.

Within the next few moments, an enormous bowl of piping hot soup was placed in front of Fitzwilliam, pieces of chicken and carrot and potato bobbing merrily in the broth. "There's a lot of soup, so you can have as much as you like," said Mr. Alexander, placing down a plate piled high with slices of buttered bread. "I have other foods as well -- fruits, cheeses, sausages, sweets -- everything that I could think of that you've professed a liking for."

Fitzwilliam was lost in a fantasy now, the kind that was forbidden to him, a fantasy where every sort of food he could imagine was laid out before him and he could eat his fill with no punishment. It took every scrap of his willpower to not devour everything in front of him. This was all too good to be true. It had to be a test. He had to be careful.

Yet his body refused to obey his mind. As soon as he began to spoon the soup into his mouth, swirling the rich, salty broth around his tongue, he couldn't keep up his composure. He began shoveling the soup into his mouth as fast as he could, barely even realizing what he was doing.

"Careful," said Mr. Alexander, "don't burn your mouth."

Fitzwilliam didn't care. He knew he was going to suffer for this and he didn't care. This glorious moment would have to be worth the suffering, the bite of the whip, the burns, the chains. He grabbed at the bread, using it to sop up the broth. It was the best meal he had ever eaten, at least of those he could clearly recall.

"Would you like some more?"

Fitzwilliam looked up, startled. He had forgotten his place. "No, sir," he said in a strained voice. He wanted more so badly, but he'd already gotten himself in enough trouble, hadn't he? His stomach felt practically satiated compared to normal.

But Mr. Alexander frowned as though he'd done something wrong. "You can have as much as you want. This soup is all for you, and I want you to eat."

"Yes, sir," said Fitzwilliam, caving immediately. There was another glorious bowl of soup before him, another sweet, fresh slice of bread. Fitzwilliam was able to savor this one a little longer, wanting to stretch out this moment to last.

"When you're finished eating, I'm going to need to examine you. Do you remember any of the physical punishments he's inflicted?"

Fitzwilliam nodded, swallowing his mouthful of bread. "He whipped me, sir, mostly on my back and legs. He carved words into my flesh, and burned me as well, and often kept me chained up." He said it all as dispassionately as he could, so as not to seem ungrateful for the rough treatment. That was the one thing that set his terrifying old master off more than anything -- any trace of complaint, any hint that the brutal training wasn't a cherished gift.

There was a hand on his cheek, and his face was turned to meet Mr. Alexander's gaze. "I'm so sorry, Fitz," he said. "I know I can never make it up to you, but I'm going to do whatever I can to help."

He was losing himself in the vampire's eyes, so tempted to let his guard down. Mr. Alexander seemed so sincere. But how could he be, when…?

"What are you thinking? Whatever it is, you can say it," Mr. Alexander coaxed.

He'd let it show on his face. He'd only been with his new master for a few hours, and he was already slipping so hard in his training. And now he had no choice, lest he be punished for lying. "I was only wondering, sir," he said, trying to carefully measure his words. "In the carriage, you said that I wasn't sent to my master -- my former master for training. But then, why was I sent there? I'm very grateful that I was, sir, so that I would receive instruction to --"

"He took you from me," said Mr. Alexander, interrupting him. Fitzwilliam had been carefully studying his new master for any hint of anger, but it hadn't manifested until this moment. "My sire, the Maestro, he took you from me and tortured you to punish me. It was never about training or instruction, and I would never have wanted you to endure that, not ever. That's the truth, Fitz, no matter what ideas he mesmerized into you."

Fitzwilliam was stunned. That would neatly explain why Mr. Alexander was so different from what he was led to believe, why his memories of Mr. Alexander had been so thoroughly scrubbed, why the training had been so horrific. And if all of that were true, then perhaps he actually could trust Mr. Alexander, the way he wanted to.

But if all of that were true, and all of his training was not something Mr. Alexander wanted or approved of, then that left one very important question: what did Mr. Alexander want with him? How did he want Fitzwilliam to act? Perhaps he was being kind today, seeing Fitzwilliam in a downtrodden state, but that surely wouldn't last. Sooner or later he'd have expectations, and if Fitzwilliam couldn't figure them out in time…

"If you're finished eating, could I take your shirt off to examine you?" Mr. Alexander asked, interrupting his spiral. He went to the counter and picked up a first aid kit that Fitzwilliam hadn't noticed before. "I want to attend to any injury I can."

"You don't need to do that, sir."

"I'm choosing to do this. You're important to me, more than you know," said Mr. Alexander firmly, pulling Fitzwilliam's dress over his head, and Fitzwilliam meekly allowed it, sitting up straight as Mr. Alexander unlaced his corset and removed his chemise. Mr. Alexander circled him, gentle fingers brushing over every scar and bruise as if to catalog them. Fitzwilliam couldn't help but shudder as those fingers fluttered down and across his back.

"Do you remember this?" asked Mr. Alexander, tracing something. "The night my sire made me carve a word into your back?"

"No, sir," said Fitzwilliam. He had several words carved into his back, but as far as he knew, they had all been placed there by his old master.

"I'm not sure if my choice of word helped. Still, I don't regret it, given the circumstances." The touch on Fitzwilliam's back was soothing as Mr. Alexander rubbed at his sore muscles. "You've done so well, Fitz, to endure everything you did."

It was too much, too much pleasure after he'd been deprived for so long. Tears were welling in his eyes. He had cried a lot at the beginning of his training, until the impulse had been burned out of him through punishment and shame. Now, he felt as though he were losing all of the control he'd worked so hard to build, a quiet sob escaping him.

"Am I doing something wrong?" asked Mr. Alexander. "I don't want to hurt you. If this hurts you too much…"

"No, sir, you're not doing anything wrong," Fitzwilliam reassured him quickly, not wanting him to stop. He was ruining this. The Maestro was correct -- he couldn't be trusted with his emotions, couldn't be trusted to not botch everything without a firm hand of guidance, and soon enough his seemingly kinder master would realize this and --

The anxious thoughts were driven from his mind by a beautiful clear note. Mr. Alexander was singing softly into his ear, a song without words, and it was filling him with a pleasant fog, making his muscles relax and sag.

It was absolutely heavenly, and as soon as the sensation began to come over him, Fitzwilliam was fighting it tooth and nail. He couldn't have this. He couldn't allow himself to lose control, to relax even one second, or he'd surely say and do the wrong thing. This must be a test, to see how well he could serve the vampire even when under the influence of strong enthrallment.

Even as he was struggling, though, the train of thought was washed out. He sagged into Mr. Alexander's arms. Mr. Alexander was far too strong for him -- of course he was. He was a vampire, and Fitzwilliam was nothing more than a mere thrall, only valuable for his blood and how well he could serve.

"I want you to be honest with me," said Mr. Alexander. "Why do you flinch away when I touch you? Why do you fight my enthrallment?"

Fitzwilliam had no chance of holding back. "Because I don't know what you want, sir. I don't know what I'm meant to do," he admitted, flinching instinctively. His old master didn't have any patience for Fitzwilliam when he wasn't sure what was needed of him, going straight to punishment.

"I want to help you. I want you to be happy. That's the truth."

It couldn't be true. He didn't deserve that happiness. But he couldn't doubt or defy his new master. "Why…" He slammed his mouth shut, not wanting to ask an impertinent question.

"Go on, you can ask me anything."

"Why did you say I was perfect, sir?" asked Fitz. "Why do you want me to be happy?"

"You don't remember," said Mr. Alexander. "That's not an admonishment, just a statement of fact. I'll have to help you remember."

"What am I meant to remember, sir?"

"That I've always wanted you to be happy," said Mr. Alexander, stroking a finger down his cheek. "That I would give you the moon and the stars as long as you stay here with me. That you're my most precious of treasures."

"I… I am, sir?" Fitzwilliam couldn't help but lean forward into the touch, wanting more, more touch, more attention. His whole being ached, and he realized that he was more starved for affection than he had been for food, affection that he was sure he would never get unless he was perfect. "Is this a test, sir?"

"A test? What kind of a test would it be?"

"My old master, he told me that I didn't deserve any kindness or consideration, and couldn't handle it even if it were given to me, sir," Fitzwilliam explained. "Is this a test to see if I correctly reject your kindness, showing that I know my place?"

"Oh, god, no," said Mr. Alexander.

"Then is it a punishment, sir?"

"You think this is a punishment?"

"To provide me with something I need so that you can take it away, sir."

"No, this isn't a test, nor is it punishment," said Mr. Alexander firmly. "And I have no intention of taking my kindness away. You're home, and I want to take care of you. And if I have to quiet your mind to make you relax and experience some peace and pleasure, then that's what I'll do."

"Sir?"

His master had started singing again, more insistently, and the song was laden with ease and tranquility. Fitzwilliam's thoughts began to fade once more, and he didn't fight it, couldn't fight it, as his mind slowed, filled with honeyed warmth. He couldn't stop the blissful relief that was turning his mind to fog.

He watched through lidded eyes as Mr. Alexander produced a tube of cream. "This might be a little cold, but it will help soothe these cuts and burns." He began to rub it across Fitzwilliam's back, easing the ever-present pain, and Fitzwilliam melted into a senseless puddle, letting out a soft sigh. "Does that feel nice, then?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm glad of it. You're doing so well. Just keep relaxing and let me take care of you." Soft bandages were wrapped around Fitzwilliam's torso, and then Mr. Alexander moved on to examining his arms, the cuts and blisters on his fingers from long hours of practice. By the time Mr. Alexander had tended to those small hurts, Fitzwilliam was so out of it with both relief and mesmerism that he hardly even noticed the command to remove his petticoats. He'd imagined this so much, gentle hands taking care of his wounds, even though his old master strictly forbid this kind of indulgent thought.

"Does that feel any better?"

"Mmm," said Fitzwilliam in a daze, forgetting himself. "I mean, yes, sir."

"You don't need to call me sir, but that's something we can work on later," said Mr. Alexander. "For now, I can tell how exhausted you are. You need sleep."

"Sleep…" Fitzwilliam repeated. Once more, just the mention of the word made him feel as if he could drop off right then and there. "Will you allow me to sleep, sir?"

"Of course I will. In fact, I insist on it. You can sleep as long as you like."

"As long as I like…" he murmured as Mr. Alexander picked him up effortlessly, cuddling him close. As Fitzwilliam blinked slowly, he was being carried out of the kitchen, then up the stairs, and then into a bedroom. It was too dark for Fitzwilliam to see much of anything, but his master carried him across the room and laid him down in an impossibly soft bed. Warm blankets were pulled up over him as he sank into the mattress.

He was warm and comfortable, his wounds covered with soothing lotion and bandages, his stomach full. This had to be a dream, the kind of dream he would be punished for. He didn't want to wake from this dream. A choked sob escaped him.

"Shh, it's all right." His master was getting into bed next to him, wrapping his arms protectively around Fitzwilliam. "I'm here, and you're safe."

His song became a lullaby, and Fitzwilliam's thoughts blended into sleep, unable to resist the call.

He was in Lex -- Mr. Alexander's arms.

He was home.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Thanks for reading! Next week, Oliver suffers under the Maestro's thumb.

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#whump #whump writing #vampires #mind control #vampire whump #fitz #alexander

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painted-bees · 1 year ago

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Sometimes you just need to be held and gently rocked like a child by someone who means something to you.

I mentioned before how Raf doesn't really get anxious before a show, and genuinely enjoys performing on stage--but that the most difficult part of a performance for him are the hours right after a show has finished, starting from the moment he walks off the stage.

Almost every single time, no matter how fun or well executed a performance was, there's a kind of quiet terror that follows him off the stage like a dark shadow and infects him once he's left the safety of the stage lights.

He becomes uncharacteristically furtive, and while he will answer when spoken to, his responses are simple, short, with a kind of sharpness in tone that suggests a level of defensiveness. Like a child awaiting a harsh scolding. Because that's kinda...what he is, in that moment. He is waiting to be kept awake into the early hours of the morning by a lecture about what he did, what he didn't do, what he should have done differently, what needs to be improved upon before the next time. Or he's waiting to be told that he's gonna be on his own for a few days, because the people who are supposed to love and take care of him are "too disappointed to fairly manage him" right now. Or he's waiting to be dragged into a busy room populated by strangers he's supposed to impress while he's casually, conversationally picked apart in front of them by the person who brought him there in the first place; the person who wanted to show him off.

It's a frustrating reaction to have...He's not a child, he's a grown ass man--and he owes venue staff, and his bandmates, and everyone else backstage a modicum of respect and kindness, and to thank them for their work, and to revel in the completion of a good show. But he's not really...he can't do that. He comes off as quietly despondent at best, or kind of a stuck up asshole at worst. When he did shows with Lacey, she called it his "post-performance tantrums" and exercised very little patience for his 'immature sulkiness' following concerts. And the low mood would persist for a solid week then after.

Once he started doing shows and stuff with Margie, she'd initially wonder if his poor mood was because she had done something wrong, or didn't meet expectations, if it was a bad show.... It wouldn't be until the following day before Raf could find himself in a state of mind where he's able to explain what he's feeling, much less why. And...for whatever reason, he's reticent to offer the most simple explanation to her--because saying "it's a ptsd thing, just give me space and patience and don't take it personally because it's nothing to do with you" comes with the risk of being asked other questions about himself and his upbringing that he's not comfortable getting into and--it's a whole thing, in his mind. So the first few shows together are consistently...a bewilderingly negative experience for Margie, in that it's a very tense, quiet, insecure and shame-ridden 24-48 hours after the show--followed by delayed revelry days after the performance with Raf finally able to reflect positively upon the experience and assuring Margie that it actually was a great performance, and that he had a lot of fun--and they're able to recall their favorite moments together, etc.

Unlike Lace, though, Margie never digs into him about his behavior. She just mirrors his silence, and then--very uncomfortably--gives him space because she doesn't really know what else she can do, and--assuming she's the problem--she doesn't want to risk messing things up even more, since she doesn't know what she did wrong in the first place. And, you know, there's only so many times Raf can reassure her, too late, that she was great, actually. And so he finally does relent to telling her that this is just...how he is after a show, that it's no one's fault, he's not mad at her or anyone--it's just ptsd. That's all he tells her, and, as per always with Margie--she doesn't try to pry out more information from him about it.

Margie goes down her own little rabbit hole of research instead, and comes to Raf with the idea for a new post-performance routine (communicated with staff and such before hand to ensure accommodation) wherein they don't try to gladhand, or pack up, or do literally anything for the first half hour after they walk off stage. Instead, they find a quiet, dimly lit corner somewhere away from everything and just sit, and rest, no expectations, no obligations, nothing. Raf agrees to put this idea into practice, and it quickly evolves into, well idk... Being held and gently rocked like a child by someone who means something to him.

#hi-note #Magritte #Rafael #say what you want about Margie's parents #but at least they gave her hugs and told her they were proud of her from time to time...#and they'd STILL do that for her today if she ever let herself come to them in need of it.#Raf on the other hand...there's a lot of lost time to make up for.#At least now he's getting what he needed but didn't get back then.

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alleyesony0u · 5 months ago

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CW: discussion of child abuse, mentions of blood/violence, implied death/su!c!de, kidnapping

There is so much gutwrenching about Petscop but one of the most gutwrenching things I have sort of uncovered in my most recent rewatch is the fact that Paul's last true interaction with Rainer before Rainer died was the night Paul was taken. And I came to this conclusion by the fact that Tool refers to Paul as "Newmaker" and early in the gameplay, Rainer is referred to as "Rainer, Newmaker". In some parts of gameplay, Paul played Rainer. But where, exactly?

Petscop 11.

Rainer was left with Care one night, maybe Anna had left for some sort of important legal thing, maybe she just needed a break. In any case, she asked Rainer to watch Care, to stay with her. She stuck a paper on the wall. "My husband may come here after 6:00 pm. Please stay overnight if you can. Thank you so so so much."

She knew Marvin had an idea, she knew what he was capable of. She trusted Rainer. Rainer was the oldest cousin, he could watch Care. Her beautiful Carrie. Make sure she was safe. Marvin wouldn't get to her. He had been risking it too much. That's why visitations only happened on weekends now, after all.

And dammit was Rainer going to take care of her. He loved Care, that was his little cousin for goodness' sake! He never liked Marvin anyway. Not after they found out how he used that Tool on Belle. Not after the digging digging digging, the hole filled with Marvin's sins that Rainer had found himself in. No. Rainer would protect Carrie.

It wasn't Rainer's fault the closet locked from the outside. He tried to get out, he really did. He heard Carrie scream, the crash of the air conditioner, the struggle. And Rainer fought with that doorknob, slammed himself against the door, used every ounce of strength in his adrenaline spiked body and the door did not budge.

And when he finally got it open, he was too late. She was gone. Window shattered, stuttering air conditioner smelling like smoke and electricity on the carpeted floor. Droplets of blood staining it. It was just Rainer and the air conditioner and the whistle of wind outside the window.

Anna blamed Rainer. He hadn't done enough and now? Now her baby was gone. Missing. Never coming back. Rainer was supposed to protect her and he failed. Failure.

So when her baby returned, Rainer wasn't allowed to see her anymore. They wouldn't even give him a picture of her. They were all scattered in graves. Maybe he spotted her once, one more time, at a Christmas party as he set down a carefully wrapped PS1 game disk under the tree, a note with vulgar words plastered on the wrapping paper, before slipping into the bathroom one final time.

But she doesn't remember. So when he is in his 20s, all he can say is: "I saw him at a birthday party once. All the older kids were down in the basement playing video games to hide from everyone. He was down there, too. He was older than the rest of them, though."

#yes i subscribe to the trans paul theory #if there are no more trans paul theorists then i am dead #errmmm #petscop #petscop yapping #rainer hammond #daniel hammond #paul leskowitz #paul petscop #carrie mark #care petscop #anna petscop #marvin mark #narrative #i guess??#just me spewing my thoughts

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dent-de-leon · 6 months ago

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How much did Caleb Widogast’s heart ache for Mollymauk? How much did he truly love Tealeaf, that he was the person to both bury him and get on his hands and knees to dig up his grave with his bare hands all these months later??

Caleb Widogast dug Molly’s grave. He was the one who dug him back up. With his bare hands, on his knees. Having no qualms about disturbing Molly's grave because, "I'm already going to hell anyway"--the implication that Caleb believes he's already damned, beyond salvation. But Mollymauk was still worth saving.

Caleb buried him with a letter, telling Molly to come find them if he wakes, daring to dream of the impossible, "The man dug his way out of a grave once, if he is to be believed...He's done it once, maybe he will do it again. Do we stay here, do we try to find...? I don't, I--I have read of miracles..." How much it tormented Caleb to have to leave Molly behind.

Several months pass. Jester offers to resurrect Caleb's own parents--the one thing he's always wanted--and he still asks her if she could bring back Mollymauk instead. Dreaming of the possibility of reunion, being the most vocal of all the Nein to push for a resurrection, "[This] could be a conversation, or a reunion." And Jester--always so earnest and full of hope--still tries to temper his expectations, to make sure he doesn't get his heart broken if Mollymauk doesn't return to them.

The Nein feeling entirely at a loss, directionless. Hopeless and heartbroken in Aeor. Jester drawing a card from Molly's tarot deck for guidance, for some bit of comfort after Lucien's coldness. It's pure luck, just chance, but the card she draws is the Magician. "The Magician. So, Molly drew this card for you, Caleb. It looks like you." Caleb seeing that, seeing himself drawn in Molly's hand, and everything falls into place.

He knows where he needs to be. "I have been trying to make sense of everything that's happened in the last few weeks--every day--and I am not seeing it. But...I know that we're supposed to go where Molly is. Otherwise, we would not have seen the things we've seen. We wouldn't be the Mighty Nein."

He dreamed of “reunion,” went all the way to Cognouza because saving Mollymauk was worth it. Always knew where this road was going to lead. "Why did we come this far, if not for this?" "But what if...? Why did we go so far, and fight so hard?" Caleb pleading with Mollymauk's caged soul again and again, begging for him to hold on, to keep fighting. He wasn't beyond hope, they could still save him. "Please don't give up. You can find your own life again. There will be time for that later."

"That wasn't me," Lucien vehemently insists, his will still trying to dominate Caleb's in this world of sheer dreams and manifestation, endless possibilities. "He's gone, and you will all die and join me." "Bullshit," Caleb says, and keeps resisting him again and again, keeps shattering his control. And he pays dearly for it. Lucien kills Caleb for his endless loyalty to Molly, for daring to still try and save him. Caleb, who breaks through Lucien's control again and again, who has the most profound effect on him and Molly when it all comes crashing down.

"He's gone. Let him go. Let it all go..." The last Eye Lucien branded him with--it appears right over Caleb's heart. Did Lucien do that just to spite him, as a way to try and shut out Molly's feelings--

Essek never knew Mollymauk in life, didn't have to grieve him after all the pain Lucien caused. But when he sees Caleb say goodbye, watches Caleb return that forehead kiss from so long ago--sees how much Caleb loves him--that's what makes Essek break down. "Essek gets up in a huff, walks about twenty feet away," storms off and cries over the unfairness of it all, over seeing Caleb and the rest of the Nein lose someone so dear to them.

Of course Caleb is the one who limps to Molly’s side in the end and casts the ritual to resurrect him. Tealeaf reeling from Greater Restoration, wakes in a daze and goes, "Oh...I was having the nicest dream..." And it's Caleb who reaches out to him--asks his name, tries to help him stay grounded. Caleb being the one to assure Kingsley that, "Well, first of all, you are among friends." The way King replies, with absolute certainty, "I know."

Caleb continually holding out a hand to Kingsley, asking him to stay. "Well, let's take him at his word. Perhaps this is your first time meeting us. It's our second time--third time--meeting you. Stick with us." Assuring him that he'll always have a place with the Nein, that Caleb is happy to have him back--whoever he comes to be. That Tealeaf will still always be theirs. "We have a habit of taking in strays." Kingsley being so easily charmed by Caleb and flirting with his Magician immediately, falling so quickly for this person who gave everything to bring him home.

It was always going to be Caleb. He didn’t stop dreaming of getting Molly back from the moment he put him in the ground. He was never going to let him go—

#caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #widomauk #kingsley #they are...really soulmates in every life huh...makes my whole heart ache--#im so sorry this was supposed to be shorter. but caleb is just so dedicated to saving molly and feels so passionately #about him that it just makes it too hard to narrow down every example--#but also. shoutout to yasha turning to caleb and asking him 'is there nothing we could do? caleb?' shes. she molly's best friend.#shes his Love. she's been with him the longest. and when the ritual fails. when she's ready to give up hope--she turns to caleb for help #looks to him to save molly. she...she knew if anyone could. it'd be him. that....means so much--

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inmyminditsreal · 1 year ago

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I Hate You A Little Less Between My Legs

Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Spencer and Reader hate each other. But sometimes hatred turns into something...more.

Warnings: Sex, p in v, oral (fem receiving), hate fuck, agression.

This is my first time writing smut!!!! lmk what yall thinkkk

It begins

Me and Spencer are rivals. We hate each other's guts. I hate him because ever since I joined the BAU he’s just been rude. God, so rude. All the shitty looks and comments. You’d think he was nice because of his warm demeanor. I joined a couple years back, and as soon as we were introduced, he looked at me. Not in a really mean way, but almost as if he wants to eat me, something dark.

It’s been a long day at the office, everyone is gathered at the bar, Spencer has been his normal annoying self all night. I’m leaving the bar after everyone has left, except Spencer of course.

“Y’know today would’ve been so much better if you had just stopped talking. Seriously.” Spencer says as he walks backwards in front of me. I stop, look at him, and of course he’s smirking. I’m finally done. I want nothing more than to rip that gross smirk off his face. So I do that, not in the only way I know how, but in the only way he wouldn't expect. I roughly grab him by the face and dig my lips into his, pushing him against the wall.

“Yeah?” I say while tugging on his hair. He reacts quickly by groaning into my lips, like it's all he’d ever wanted. No. Needed. The barrier of tension around us has finally been broken, like a needle to a balloon. Now that I've popped it, I know this is it. I have to prove I can't be broken, won’t be broken.

“You really think you’re in control? God I know how badly you must’ve wanted this.” He says in a breathless whisper as he slides his hands under my thighs and lifts me into his arms. I feel my stomach flutter and my knees start to feel weak. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Something is uneasy about his eyes. The way they look at me feels hungry, starving.

“Oh really? I’ve wanted this? Look at yourself, you’re barely holding yourself together.” I say, obviously lying. I lean into his growing bulge and he swallows with steady eyes on my every move. The reins of control are passed back and forth, no matter how desperately I want him to have them. I’m so afraid he knows that. He puts one hand under my ass and the other around my waist and he starts to walk to his car. He plops me down and slams the door. He drives urgently to his place, arriving suddenly. I try to get out of the car and walk but he suddenly swings me over his shoulder, so easily. My legs start to tense. Why is this turning me on so much?

“Put me down. What are you doing Spencer?”

“Carrying you to my bed. What else did you expect?”

The sudden calm on his face is scary but in a way that makes me want even more, an adrenaline of intrigue. To his apartment, to his room, eventually thrown on to his bed in a frenzy.

“This is what you wanted? Huh? Tell me princess.”

This wasn’t what I wanted when I kissed him, but I want it now, need it now.

“Why don't you find out?” I tease while beginning to undress my shirt, taking a childish amount of time to undo each button. I notice his eyes getting darker with every single one. About halfway done, in a swift motion, it's ripped off and discarded like nothing. With a small gasp from my mouth, I don’t know what to say.

“Really, you’re going to try and tease me? After you’ve already started this.” He rips off his shirt, then his pants, and everything. Looking at his body, I feel so needy. My once potent hatred, now waning. walking towards me , he spreads my legs, rips off my skirt, then gently clasps the edges of my panties, sliding them slowly over my skin, throwing them to the floor. I unclip my bra, nipples hard and aching. I swear I hear him whisper under his breath something along the lines of, “beautiful.” Pushing me further onto the bed, me now on my back. He begins to kiss and nip at the skin on my bare stomach. His fingers trail along my folds and he begins to dip his fingers in and out. Fuck.

“All wet for me.” He says with that stupid smirk.

“Oh shut-up.” I groan.

He uses his free hand to grasp my breast, teasing soft circles around my nipples. I whimper blissfully. He kisses down my neck, then my stomach, sucking on my hips, then leaving peppered kisses down my pussy. I shutter.

He slides on a condom just before he lines himself up with my entrance, gently slapping his cock over it.

With a cocky smile and a powerful push, he’s inside me, and he doesn’t stop. I moan and wrap my arms around his neck. He pounds into me with controlling movements, angry ones. With my fierce scratches carving into his back. He seems unfazed, maybe even happy.

“I’ve always wanted to see you like this, to rip that witty demeanor you carry right off. And I have, you’re a mess.”

“You think you’re making me a mess? Trust me this isn’t what a mess looks like.”

“Oh we’ll see about that.”

His anger turns me on, it sets me on fire. His anger gets worse and his thrusts only get harder, more urgent. I wrap my legs around his waist and he starts to go slower but still so fucking hard.

“Fuck.” I cry. He smiles in response. His fingers wrap around my clit, urging me gently while rubbing sly circles.

“Oh god I’m close”

I groan. “Harder.”

He doesn’t disappoint and thrusts into me with even more force, leaning in to cup my breasts. Rubbing my nipples with his fingers gently, while pressing harder and pinching suddenly. I scream a moan in reaction. He leans down to suck my nipples, biting and nipping at them. I’ve never been touched this way, and he’s coming to know that. His groans and breathy whispers are so much more beautiful than I’d ever expected them to be.

“I’m gonna! Im-” I yelp as he pulls out just in time for me to not finish. He hasn’t finished either, but he wants to watch me squirm, and fuck, I do. Wriggling under him in incoherent whines. The line between pleasure and pain seems so distant it hurts.

“Please.” I pant in a small voice. His smile makes me boil but my desire is so much hotter.

“Tell me you’re mine and I’ll let you cum.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

He slowly creeps his head down between my thighs, licking one soft stroke down the middle of my pussy, making me arch needlessly. His hands are big and rough lacing my outer thighs with silky strokes and gentle rubs. He lifts my legs onto his shoulders, moving even closer to the place I want him most. My hand hesitantly but eagerly grips onto his hair and pulls.

“Come on, you know you want to.” He whispers while looking up into my eyes, the darkness in them looking so much hotter than it used to. My brain fighting between giving in and taking the reins once more, finally being in control. Just as I’m about to resist him, he says,

“Alright then princess, you’re stronger than I thought.” and he begins to swirl soft circles around my clit, making me whine desperately. Though everything is telling me no, god no, take back control, leave, walk out, get away, dont. I plead in a voice so needy it surprises even me, “Im yours. Please. I-I'm all yours. “

His head cocks back and he smiles, “Good girl, I knew you had it in you.” He hesitates for a second, looking at me. This time, I don’t know what his eyes are saying. Then he digs his head into my core, his tongue exploring what I like, and what I don’t. I’m loud enough so that he knows, and he loves it. He plunges his tongue inside me and takes it out, using my wetness to coat me in a lustful mess. Soft in some spots, rough in others. Fluttering his tongue around my layers, sucking slowly around my clit. Rolling my hips and swinging my arms above my head. My mewls and moans make him work even harder, incoherent words mumble from my mouth. Once I’m close, I cry,

“Spencer. Oh god Spencer.”

I’ve already given up control. This can’t be any worse.

“You’re adorable when you’re like this y’know? All needy and wet, and all for me. I was right.” He says in a breathless voice that makes me groan with pleasure.

I roll my eyes and mumble, “Right about what..mm?”

“You must’ve wanted me so fucking bad, to be rolling your hips and moaning my name. All this just for me. It’s hilarious.” He breathes with a bitchy smile. Everytime he talks against me, his voice vibrates my insides.

“Shut up.”

He laughs, “No shitty comeback, I must really have you on your knees, or well, on your back, about to come for me.” He smirks.“Y’know.” He says as he licks me up and down, making me shiver and writhe. “I think you look so perfect under me. All simple and helpless.” While before he can spit out anything else, I pull on his hair, pushing him even deeper into me. He doesn’t complain and eats me for all I’m worth, all I am. I cum in waves. Waves of pleasure and a sense of giving in. I’m overtaken, I’ve waited and this was it. I groan and shutter, twitching until it's over. I let out a shaky breath I didn’t know I had. Eyes closed, head held back. Spencer's eyes were on me, I couldn't see them but God, he was admiring me. He thinks I look so beautiful, a sweaty, blushing mess. But he’d never say. One day I won't need him too. The night ends with his arms around my waist, tangled in sheets.

The next morning was a bliss shattered by a phone call. My familiar ringtone haunts me and my arm wrangles out to grab it, it’s Hotch. Picking it up I yawn, “Yeah? Hotch, is everything alright?”

“You’re late. So is Spencer. Do you know where he is? He didn’t pick up. Also, come to work.”

“Shit” I mumble while looking over at Spencer laid out on the bed, the sun hitting him in a way that curses me.

“Yeah..uhm we hung out after the bar. So I stayed on his couch. We’ll be right there. Sorry!” Sounding so fucking unconvincing.

“You two. ‘Hanging out?’ Alright, just get here.” He said it in that one way, the way you know he’s suspicious of you but not angry, not that angry. He hangs up.

“That was the shittiest excuse I've ever heard. In what world would he believe that we were hanging out?” Spencer laughs from the bed, stretching as he sits up.

“Shut up alright I know, just get dressed and let’s go.” We both stand up, I grab my clothes and walk to the bathroom to get changed. We go to work and receive awkward stares and side-eyes. In a room full of profilers, I’ve never felt so judged.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencerreid #fem!reader x spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #readerxspencerreid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid dom #dom!spencer

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cantdothis-nomore · 7 months ago

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heyyy,

idk if ur active, but i loved your teen titans x reader scenarios!!

This idea popped into my head a while ago but could you plz write a what would the teen titans do, if you were getting picked on/made fun of (by other ppl)?

tyyy love your work!! :)))

TEEN TITANS WITH BULLIED!!READER

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Date - 03/01/25

A/N - Hey!!! I know this request has been sitting for very very long now, but I have had a very chaotic few months and have had a lot of issues with my mental and physical health which left writing a very tedious task for me.

But now I'm going to get back to writing consecutively and just wondering if I started writing for Arcane, would you guys read it?? Love you guys so muchhhhh and I'm so glad that you like my work!!! ♡

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ROBIN -

I feel like Robin would be the type of guy to work out who exactly the people are who are picking on you and immediately dig up as much dirt on them as he can

Very much a problem solving and logic finding kind of guy, would try and figure out why they're targeting you specifically

He wouldn't go immediately to physical violence or insults, but carefully crafted jabs about their past or something bad that they've done that nobody is supposed to know about

He'd comfort you and reassure that their insults were not true and that nothing is your fault to the best of his ability.

He's not the best at physical touch and all that jazz but he'll try his best, wanting to comfort and help you as much as he can, knowing that the people's words probably affected you much more than you show.

He'd definitely be the type of person to keep an eye on the people for the foreseeable future, watching them and making sure that they don't so much as breath near you again now that he knows that they were picking on you.

Definitely the protective type to be honest, what do you guys think?!

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CYBORG -

I honestly feel like he has the capacity to be the type of person to just get angry and beat the people up depending on how far they had gone with picking on you, but at the same time I feel like he would be the type to take you to the side and speak to you about it

He'd try his best to get you to talk about it without forcing the information out as he'd sense that it may be a sensitive topic as being bullied usually is.

Depending on what has happened or what the people who were picking on you have said/done, he might go and seek advice from the other titans (with your permission of course)

Honestly, just overall, I think he has the ability to be the kind of person to just get in a rage and yell/beat them up, but he would probably go straight to the questioning you about what happened and formulating a plan about what he wants to do about it.

Would be a strategist about it i will admit, (my personal opinion lol) but like Robin, he would dig up dirt about them and use that as well.

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BEAST BOY -

100% would be raring and ready to go switch into like a tiger or something and beat them up, and would probably like it as well.

100% would beg to be able to go and get them

He'd be ready to go and fight/beat them up, but he has enough brains to figure out that you're probably upset about it already and isn't willing to make you more upset if you aren't willing to let him hurt the people picking on you

Again, would turn to the other titans such as Raven to help him, wanting to find the best solution for you despite wanting to fight them himself after figuring out what has happened

He'd also be the questioning type, wanting to know what they said to you and how long it's been going on and just general information about them.

I personally feel like he'd be quite sweet about it honestly

Definitely a thinking out loud type of person

Would pester you with suggestions on how to get back at them 24/7 until the people and the issue is dealt with, just wanting to help you as much as he can because he realised you're upset

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STARFIRE -

Wouldn't understand why you didn't want to make a big fuss out of it, would pester you about it like Beast Boy

She'd be the kind of person to inquire about why they're picking on you in the first place

Her immediate solution would be to find them and beat them up to prevent them from being mean to you at all in the future

If you expressed your opinion of not wanting her to go and beat them up, she'd be confused about why but would agree as it's you asking her specifically to just leave it alone

If you expressed your opinion of wanting her to go and beat them up, she would get one of the others to find out where they lived (or she would fly around the city until she found them) and would beat them up as you requested with a threat of not picking on you again or she would find them

Honestly would not be picky about it, would do either if it made you happy even the slightest bit

Would also be very sweet about it as that's who she is, but would probably go and ask the other Titans about people who pick on other people, and ask about why and what to do so she can help you

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RAVEN -

Wouldn't honestly really care until she sees how it's affecting you, and then she'd get involved, and only then.

Would push you to explain to her what they said and when this all started, wanting to understand as much as she can about this entire situation

Would jump immediately to using her powers to scare the ever-loving crap out of them because it's funny and it might make you feel better to watch them scream in fear

If you didn't want her to do anything, she would resignatedly back off but would continuously pester you about it until you personally did something about it or let her do something instead.

If you did want her to do something about it, she'd assume that you've now shared permission to do whatever and would then take it into her hands to scare the crap out of them constantly and pick on them like they picked on you so they'd stop

She'd only stop terrorizing them when they stopped picking on you

Wouldn't take a single word against what she's doing as she only wants to make you feel better about what's going on

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Hey guys!! Sorry, this is a short one, I'm getting used to being back in the swing of writing now, haha!! I hope you like this and pleaseeeee leave me some more requests. I will get right to them!!

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