#But for some reason I ended up with more dark clothes

[koshiaoi]

More sif from In Galaxies And Eons, he gets a bit worn-out whenever he loops.

My hc is he is affected by the craft exhaustion way more than normal sif, by way more I mean while in the loops, and that's because it's not just local to Vaugarde and is instead just reversing time completely! But his body does still feel the effects of it harshly, as each time he dies the scar on his cheek and the black bits of his hair, hat, and the inside of his clothes gains another star. All the black bits slowly turn a dark blue! Just cuz I wanna and I love blue.

If anyone is wondering, the scar on his cheek he got from loop, this loop spent way longer in the time loops than the original loop (around 10k I think?) And doesn't really talk to siffrin because of this. Loop attacked sif because he wanted to replace him and get back his actors.

From everyone else's perspective, they were a few days before they got to dormant and were taking a break when they heard sif scream, they rushed over and saw him almost dead being attacked by a "sadness" that somehow could talk? They hear it say something about ripping his skin off and replacing him, at which point they were able to save sif. Frightening loop, causing them to run away. Isa and odile noticed something in its eyes though... a weird shade that gave them a visceral feeling.

Bonnie wouldn't be able to leave sifs side after this, as they were told that he was 'just going to take a nap' and he ended up getting attacked. So bonnie sees this and knows that they can't leave the rest of the party anymore, but what's worse about it is that even though frin looks half dead, they're not bleeding, like at all. Instead, every scratch and wound is this weird back nothingness, which is even more reason to not let him alone ever again!

Mira tries her best to heal him, but nothing happens, almost like its permanent damage, like its scars, which stress her out even more! The person who she thought she could trust with her life is now badly injured because of her! If she just didn't ask him to come along, he would never have gotten hurt! It's all her fault! Its-

And isa would hide his true feelings about the entire thing, just trying to cheer sif up by telling him how cool he is for being able to hold his own against that sadness, they that couldn't even damage... wait what? Why couldn't they damage it? Why could only sif damage it? Well that doesn't matter! Sif looks really cool now! He tries his best to help out the freaking out siffrin.

Odile on the other hand would take that thought and run with it. When she saw that when they tried to attack the sadness, not only did it not flinch, like at all, it's form also didn't even react! No small bits of water, nothing. And then there's the fact that whatever it did to siffrin is permanent and can't be healed, what it said was weird to, not to mention that IT COULD TALK? No something wasn't right here... they should really talk to siffrin later.

Yes! I am using some headcannons for this! Specifically the loop appeared before the loops and was just hiding, the loop being sap!sif but I made him worse, and one thing that's just true, is that odile will know that isa also saw the weird thing and will talk to them about it and everything.

[yunamedkostobot]

Jacegan week 2024: Day One, Ritual

AU, where instead of training the dragons, Valirians were taught to turn into them, albeit the Doom still happened. However, instead of conquering Westeros, they decided to concentrate on Essos and create their kingdom at former Slaver’s Bay lands. So by the canonical Dance of Dragons time, Westeros is divided between Hoar’s kingdom(which includes not only the Iron Islands, but the Westlands, Reach and half of Riverlands)(another half is held by Arryn kingdom). The North is still an independent kingdom and Cregan is its king, newly got rid of his uncle Bennard. One day, Cregan decides to take a ride to Deepwood Moot with his half-sister Sara and lord Servin, his friend. The Hoar still attempts to conquer the North, and the castle is still the stronghold against them. 

Once they get near the castle, it seems that a big shadow flies over it, but it disappears as soon as Cregan looks away. 

And the next day, a young man appears at the village nearby. This man looks quite ordinary - dark hair, grey eyes, slender build - and wears simple clothes but no weapon but a simple knife. He wanders along the shore and village, chats with smallfolk, exchanges drinks with guards and relentlessly asks if some strange things happened here. 

At first, Cregan doesn’t notice him - until he notices that the boy’s clothes are not really made for North’s weather. They are made of linen, and not of wool or leather and totally are not suited even for summer in the North, yet the man seems not to give a damn about this. He doesn't even seem to feel cold.

Cregan is overcomed by curiosity and, despite Lord Cervin’s and Lord Glover’s objections, calls him in, while at the same time attempting to dig where this man comes from. 

At first, it seems it’s necessary, because the man(whose name is Jace) seems to wear his heart on his sleeve. He simply talks that he came from the Bay of Free Men in Essos, where he lived with his mothers, father, four little brothers and baby sister and he just came to travel the world. He tells of high pyramids and earthly gray rocks, of deep blue sea, orange trees and the dragons living among the people. He is ready to tell about long channels of water built and the gardens of thousand trees and flowers blooming in the places where there was nothing but sand one hundred years ago. He tells how the family running from the Doom of Valyria had taken these places for themselves and rebuilt these Bay from nothing.

From the distances of thousand miles, the story of the place is like a fairytale or a legend dating back to the Long Night, and maybe it is hard to believe it here, but Cregan finds it interesting. So, he starts to spend more time with the man from the Free Man’s Bay. He is still interested in why this man came to the North.

When he asked Jace about it, he just shrugged his shoulders and said:

— I need to complete one ritual here.

Cregan doesn’t understand. He knows of rituals people practice: of blood oaths and self-sacrifice, which was used by heathen priests of the Old Gods until the said priests were caught and executed. But what type of ritual does this man want to complete? 

It does not help that Jace is actually a very interesting person to speak with. He is smart, knows a lot of things, is ready to talk a lot about everything including the history of different lands and their legends, and nevertheless, never seems like he wants to boast about everything he knows. He is ready to allow other people to express themselves and listens to them patiently before starting to speak. He does not seem the man who is ready to immolish himself for unknown reasons. And so he soughts to spend as much time with him as possible.

One day, the Ironborn of Hoar attack the coast. Cregan, of course, can’t just stand and watch and enters the battle alongside Cervin. However, since the forces of Hoars are stronger than canon Greyjoys(because their kingdom is bigger and richer), the battle ends up being bloody and Northern men lose a lot of their men. 

Until the green dragon arrives. He flies over Ironborns ships and burns them, and then attacks and starts to kill those Ironborn, who are standing nearby them. The remainings understand what that means and start to throw themselves at Northern positions and one of them hits Cregan into his head and the latter loses his consciousness.

He wakes up at the cave. Nearby, the sea hums. The first man he sees here is Jace, with part of his clothes torn and the green-grey scales on the cheekbones.

Cregan asks for answers.

And Jace - who reveals himself to be Jacaerys Velaryon, son of the ruler of the Dragonmen of the Bay of Free Men - tells him everything. Tells  not only about the kingdom, which is ruled by his mother now, but about his relatives as well, about his brothers and little sister, about his uncles and aunts. He also explains what brought him to the North. The Dragonmen have their special initiation rituals and the young dragonman should make his 12 feats - 6 by his own volition and 6 by another’s choice. He already completed 11 of them and now is doing another the last. He came to the North to complete his ritual and rise to full-blown member of Dragonmen society.

Cregan remembers the stories coming from Vale about dragons kidnapping young maidens, and asks if it is a ritual too. Jace laughs and says that they do not kidnap only the maidens but the handsome knights too - it is how his mother meets his father. However, they do not cause them any harm and the only dragon who burned them alive was his great-granduncle Maegor, who is considered a monster by their tribesmen.

Cregan doesn’t remember, for how many time they kissed eachother after this. 

After that, Jace suddenly gets more serious and tells Cregan about the reason he came to the North - to stop one of the sea snakes terrorizing the costs of the islands. The sea snakes are the bitter rivals of Dragonmen like the fireworms(From whom they descend) and unlike them, are pure animals. He says that those creatures crave human blood and arrive at the places of battles to eat it and leave them after catching humans to be eaten alive. He says that smallfolk believe that giving a young woman to them to fend it off and bring prosperity in winter. For a lot of them this is the ritual. Cregan suddenly understands what those implications mean, gets what to do with it and gets up to rush to the shore to help. Jacaerys understands and goes with him.

And they turn out to be right. After the sea snake comes to the battlefield, the smallfolk uses the usual panacea - Sara ends up as the sacrifice for this sea snake. She ends up chained to the rock formation. 

But as the day closes, and the nobles and smallfolk meet an unlikely couple - a dragon and thought to be a disappeared young lord - who come to rescue the chained lady and get rid of the attacking sea monster forever. 

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ - discussion of postpartum depression, lactation kink.

Orion’s father inserted himself into your life with an authority that, quite frankly, has shocked you.

You expected him to be a dead beat. An absentee. You never really expected to find him in the first place, let alone almost run straight into him on the street.

It was almost like you could feel him on the sidewalk before you saw him. Your body knew, still carried the memories, the imprint of him lingering on your skin, inside you. Orion had his DNA in his veins, and now you had Orion’s in yours.

Shared pieces, twisted together in an imbalanced double helix-

Exposing you for all your transgressions, your failures, your misery.

It’s a special kind of shame, to look your baby’s father in the face and tell him you’re not a good mother to his child. That you’re failing Orion. That you don’t know if you can do it.

The truth is motherhood is not natural or beautiful, like everyone says it is, and it doesn’t come easy, like it seems to do for most. You don’t even feel like you’re bonded to your son, and it’s like you’re a stranger to him. More failure.

They pile advice on top of you in heaps, your mother, your aunts, the friends that have stuck around, sleep when the baby sleeps, let him cry it out, don’t let him cry it out, put him down, pick him up, don’t feed at night, don’t miss a feeding-

All the while, no one shows up. Not truly. They’re here, and there, but your previous fierce independent streak has done you no favors, and no one seems to notice you’re barely holding your head above water. They want to see the baby, hold the baby, cuddle the baby. No one wants to help you wash your milk crusted sheets or clothes, no one wants to pick up your groceries or do your dishes. They want to bring a roast for your fridge, and then they want Orion.

And it’s easy to fake getting by. Struggling but smiling. Motherhood is such a joy. It’s so wonderful. Being a single mom is tough, but worth it. It’s…

It’s so hard.

You don’t have a schedule, a life, a sense of normalcy. Instead of sleeping when Ry does, you cry. You don’t feel like yourself, you don’t know how to do this, you don’t know how you’re even going to make it to the next day sometimes.

And no one really seems to notice you, until Simon shows up.

Simon, who doesn’t seem to care that you’ve tried to assure him you’re fine. Simon, for all intents and purposes, has put a foot down and refused to budge. Simon, who no matter how hard you try to tell him you’re okay, has shouldered his way into your life without a single complaint about the sudden fatherhood thrust upon him.

He’s a stranger, at the end of it all, a man you shared a single night with, a man you know almost nothing about.

Even though that night has always felt like so much more, an impossible connection built in the dark between indecipherable words and whispers.

And now this stranger has planted on himself on the ground in front of you, like a tether to reality. A land line to your sanity. A hand to hold…

A person who sees you.

“I’m right here,” he promised, “I’m going to take care of you.”

He wanted in, and you stopped coming up with reasons or excuses to fend him off. You bent and bent and bent under the pressure of being a mother until you broke-

And he was there.

Someone is calling your name. There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder, and then smoothing over your forehead, fingertips lingering on the apple of your cheek. You blink fuzzily, slowly realizing you must have fallen asleep on the couch. “C’mon mama, let’s get you to bed.” You peer over his shoulder at the kitchen, barely registering how clean it is, the lack of dirty dishes, the empty trash can, the wiped down cabinets and countertops.

“Sorry… I fell asleep. I should’ve-“

“It’s alright, wanted to let you get some rest.” His arms, massive and corded with muscle, slide under your knees and back, and you study his tattoos as intently as you can, for being half asleep. “‘m gonna pick you up.”

“Okay.” You sigh, and his chest vibrates with a low chuckle. It feels safe, you feel nearly relaxed, no fight left in you, all resistance and denial leeched from your bones. “Ry?”

“Fed two hours ago with what you had in the fridge. Still asleep now.” Warmth ghosts atop your head, and you snuggle farther into his chest, unable to help yourself.

“How long was I out?”

“Almost five hours.” You blink, and then, like his words have summoned full body awareness- you wince.

Fuck.

“What is it?” He’s immediately tense, slowly pushing open your bedroom door.

“I’m… sore.” You grimace, trying to keep your chest away from him as he lowers you into bed. “They’re… he usually eats… sooner. They get… too full.” Your face burns, humiliated and awkward. Nothing like telling your very attractive baby daddy that you’re full too of milk. His head cocks.

“Is there a way to fix that?” He’s sitting at your hip, hand casually braced on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles overtop the sheet.

“I could pump but, it really hurts.” Your voice cracks on the admission. You can’t imagine anything you want to do less in this moment, especially with him here. “A warm washcloth usually helps but…”

“I’ll get one.” He tips forward at the waist, and presses a kiss right to your forehead. “Stay put.” You lean back against the pillows, and close your eyes. You hear him the bathroom, tap running, door opening and closing, and then the bed dips. “Can I help you with that?” He points at your t shirt, and you nod. Lifting it over your own head sounds uncomfortable, and you don’t even flinch when his fingers brush your stomach as he peels it up and over.

There’s a moment, a quiet one, where you just stare at each other. His eyebrows crease, dark brown eyes turning soft and sweet, flicking down to your lips and then back up. It’s frighteningly intimate, being so vulnerable, rubbed raw by motherhood and then comforted by the man who gave it to you, and when you look into his eyes, you can feel it all, everything you felt that night, the connection, the desire to know more, feel more, push past everything and dig until your strike true, until you can touch his heart.

Maybe it’s the hormones. The baby. The fact that he’s here, holding you steady, true to his promise.

You loop a forearm over the back of his neck, and tug, jolting him forward, close enough that your noses touch, and his lips graze yours before he pulls back, cradling your face with his free hand. “Want somethin’ mama?”

“Yes.” You whisper. Your breasts ache, but the pain is second to the way you drown in his dark gaze.

“Need you to ask for it, sweet girl.”

“I- I want… to kiss you.” It feels like taking a plunge, ripping a band aid off, and he only smiles at you in return, before leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours.

It’s a memory. An explosion. A rush of the last time, the first time, the only time. Ocean water, spring air, woodsmoke under your fingertips. Fragments of a few favorite things, sealed in a kiss. A dizzying ride that sucks you dry, spills your blood into his, twists the two of together until you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to let go.

You almost, almost whine when he pulls away.

“Washcloth is cold.” He murmurs, making his way back to the bathroom and restarting the process. His muscles flex under his t shirt as he turns the sink on and off, wringing the cloth out. You unhook a bra strap, and when he returns to the seat at your hip, you gulp.

“T-thanks.” You reach, but don’t tug it into your grasp. Instead, the side of your arm bumps against the swollen firmness of your breast, and you hiss.

“I’ve got you. Let me help.” He says softly, peeling the fabric away until you’re exposed, darkened nipples straining in the dim light of your bedroom. Fingertips trace barely there touch across your skin, and he whispers reverently. “You feed our baby with these, mama.”

“They hurt.” Your voice trembles, and he nods sympathetically.

“I know.” He presses the cloth to your skin, brow furrowed with concentration. His eyes flick up to yours, and then back down, thumb gently rubbing a semi circle under the curve of your breast. “Feel okay?” His voice is a rasp, and you nod.

“Y-yeah… um-“ you trail off, half wishing you could disappear into this bed. “I need a little bit of pressure, to help… express.” It’s the least sexiest word in the English language, you think. Express.

He palms you, gently, and then squeezes with easy pressure. The sound you make is a half moan, half gasp of pain, and he soothes you. “I know honey, I know. I’m sorry.” You tip your head back, waiting, hoping to feel the slow pulse of relief, the slow give of an ache subsiding. His thumb traces your nipple and then rolls over it, still kneading and pressing with his other fingers and palm, hot cloth starting to turn cool.

And then-

You feel it. Your body catches up to your brain, finally leaking, warmth spilling over his hand, down the front of your bra and belly. “Oh my god.” You moan, and he huffs, still rubbing your nipple in a soothing pattern, gaze locked on your chest.

“Good girl.” He murmurs, and then gives you another squeeze. “Feel good?”

“Yeah.” You tip your head to the side, watching him, tracing his nose, his lips, the shape of his eyes. Your baby’s face, through and through. “So good.” It spills over the back of his fingers and he pulls it away, lifting his thumb to his mouth. His lashes flutter against his cheeks, and a noise rumbles in his chest. “Oh-“ you lose your words. Your thoughts. Your focus. You’re frozen, confused and electric like a live wire.

“Y’taste good mama. Sweet.” You gulp. He ducks his head, brushing his lips against yours briefly before dipping lower, cupping as much of you as he can and swirling his tongue across your nipple, lips closing around it and sucking with a satisfied sigh.

“Si- Simon.” It feels good. It feels wrong, that it feels good, but it does. You’re spilling into his mouth, pain and soreness flitting away by the second, strong arms cradling you close to his body. It’s the first time in a long time, that you’ve felt something, anything, close to desire. Arousal has been fleeting since having a baby, but somehow, fire burns between your legs. He pulls away, nipple popping free, and you sag in the bed. With a smirk, his eyes wander to your other side, the unattended one, heavy and full beneath his gaze.

“I’ll get a new cloth.”

[jnece-maharlika]

Danny accidentally becomes the Ghost king, The president and the BIGGEST threat to Bruce's social status.

Pt 1 Danny becomes the Ghost king

"Fenton's were never allowed to have a "normal" life, we are either extremely successful or extremely unsuccessful, there is no in between. Maybe a spirit cursed us back in the days, but who knows, but one things for sure, all Fenton's will definitely make the news."

-Grandma Fenton from whatever generation

Danny's starting to believe that now. He used to think that it wasn't true, but now? He used to wish to have a normal life, be a good normal son with good grades an be an astronaut one day.

But like they said, a Fenton is either EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL OR EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL.

He was EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL in that.

Instead of a normal life he turned a half ghost teen superhero. But oh well, the Fenton's were also known for their ability to go with the flow

But how in the world did the flow get him here???

In Danny's defense, he wasn't really expecting this. The only thing in his mind at the moment was keeping his town and his people safe from pariah. He just wanted to get rid of the rotten fruitloop. He was EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL, so successful in fact that he ended up becoming Ghost king.

The fudge????

But okay, sure, he didn't wanna become king but if he also didn't want to give up the crown for others to take, what if an evil person becomes king and attacks amity again?? Fine, he'll be king, he'll figure it out. Just go with the flow.

Surprisingly, not only did he get the crown, he also got THE MONEY. as in literal gold and silver bars, coins and jewelry. Appearantly, one the kings a long long time ago, before at least two generations before pariah had an obsession with MONEY. So the king made a Permanent Royal Degree (a law that cannot be changed by any future kings) that when someone dies and becomes a ghost, 20% of the MONEY that they've acquired in their entire life. (The money turns into an equivalent of ghost currency in the realms but is still physically in the living. Kind of like how the soul is in the realms but the body is the earth. Also, the only reason money exists in the realms is for convenience and a sense of normalcy, it doesn't really have that much value unless the ghosts brings it to the living) would belong to the ghost king.

Basically, it's ghost taxes that only have to be paid once for the entire afterlife. (Or is it more of an entrance fee???)

But anyways, hes got the MONEY.

He's rich now and he thinks, "I have so much money it's disgusting"

So first things first, getting rid of some of it.

By this point, his parents know he's phantom and have changed their opinions on ghosts, instead of attacking they are now looking at ghost like they're equals and try and help them as an apology for hurting them.

They are also looking for a new project to spend time on. A new purpose

So Danny thought, why not give them the money then? Danny proposed to his mom a project to make things that can benefit both ghosts and humans.

Next thing he knows is that he's appearantly funding, building and making:

A ghost job agency

A human job agency

Ghost proof buildings (ghost can't pass through walls, it won't hurt them, just keep em out.)

Ghost proof clothes (overshadowing proof!)

A practical fashion line for ghost and humans (Bullet proof, blast proof etch. Borderline vigilante clothes that look like a civilians day to day outfit)

Homes for ghost and humans

A ghost obsession help center where they can ask humans to help with their obsession.

A school for both ghost and humans.

Liminal 101 because apparently because of the whole, pariah dark and, living in the ghosts kings haunt situation, everyone is liminal now

An entire line of technology that can be used by both ghosts and humans.

A fight arena where ghost and humans can fight for fun.

And so many other things , he can't remember

HIS NAME IS EVERYWHERE . His parents didn't even bother hiding the fact that their son somehow has enough money to fund these projects, everyone knows him now.

He ends up basically owning most of amity park.

And here he thought he wouldn't be the kind of king that expands their territory.

He was extremely UNSUCCESSFUL in that.

[agustdtown1]

FREE USE | JJK (hcs)

PAIRING: roommate!jungkook x roommate!fem!reader.

SUMMARY: headcanons of what it’d be like to let jungkook use you as much as he pleased.

WC: 1.2k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, free use dynamics, friends/roommates with benefits, unprotected sex, masturbation, mentions of oral sex (male receiving), fucking while doing mundane things, reader and jungkook are very laid back in this one. Grammar mistakes as per usual.

A/N: idk where I was going with this, but I liked the idea so here it is, enjoy!

Masterlist

Your arrangement started as a simple roommates with benefits type of thing.

It sort of naturally happened.

After a long day of working at your nine to five job and Jungkook dealing with some unnecessary family drama, both of you were at your limit.

You two were in need of some good release.

At the time, alcohol looked like the better option. The best remedy for your miserable day; perfect to leave behind all your concerns and numb your mind for a few hours, until you wake up the next day with an unbearable headache.

Neither of you anticipated that what started as a peaceful drinking session, would end up with both of you fucking desperately to the point of almost breaking the sofa.

After Jungkook finally got a taste of you, however, it became an impossible task to keep his distance with you; despite both of you agreeing to that night being just a one-time thing, and never doing anything like that again.

And so his long nights of jacking off to the thought of you started.

Jungkook would make sure that you were peacefully sleeping before pulling his sweats down, slightly teasing himself by feeling his cock through his underwear.

It was so painfully hard and already leaking.

When his own teasing was too much to bear, Jungkook would pull down the last piece of clothing preventing him from feeling his fingers wrapped around his cock.

He’d start at a slow pace, taking his sweet time to build up his release. He knew the best way to tip himself over the edge, but it seemed like after your one night together nothing could make him cum. His avid fingers weren’t so avid on himself anymore. It didn’t give him the same sentiment that you did. His hand was significantly bigger than yours, on top of being rough and calloused due to all the weightlifting he did on the daily.

Jungkook could notice the stark contrast between you and himself.

He remembers so vividly the way your fingers wrapped around his base, squeezing lightly, before you started to pump his dick at a painfully slow pace. He didn’t mind at the time, but in the darkness and loneliness of his room, Jungkook could only beg for his hand to go faster. However, it wasn’t enough. And that’s how the mental image —the memory of your soft lips kissing his tip came to the very front of his mind. It was hard to forget it; the way your tongue wrapped around his dick, the way you swallowed all of him in one go, just to show him that he could be rougher with you, that it was okay for Jungkook to lose all his self control and fuck your throat only like he knew.

Sadly, those nights filled with the most filthy sounds and moans had to stay a secret for a few more weeks.

Before the unthinkable happened.

Truth be told, you were just as needy of Jungkook as he was of you. And maybe that’s the reason you didn’t think too much before suggesting that crazy idea to him.

“So… Friends with benefits?” His question sounded a bit unsure. “Well, should I say roommates with benefits?” You nodded, agreeing while taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it. I don’t really care about the name, as long as we’re both on the same page and understand what all of this actually is.”

It was so pathetic how fast Jungkook wanted to agree and say yes to whatever deal you had for him, as long as that meant he could have you all the time he wanted.

And so, it became a recurrent occurrence to be found in the sheets of the one and only Jeon Jungkook whenever life became too stressful.

Surprisingly, the guy learned to read your body in a matter of a few days. His rough hands knew what path to follow; how soft or hard the touch of his fingers had to be to get the exact reaction he needed from you. His warm lips always found that perfect spot on your neck that would steal the sweetest of sounds from your mouth. And his dick would always move just the right way to make you see starts.

But no matter how much of your body you would give to Jungkook during the hardest of days, he would always crave more.

And that’s exactly how you found yourself in the current predicament you were in.

Your hands were acting clumsy due to Jungkook’s hard thrusts. The pencil placed in between your fingers was shaking so badly, and your handwriting was so illegible that not even someone with their 20-20 vision could understand what you wrote.

“Slow down a bit, it’s difficult to write while getting fucked.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

His pace was turned down a few notches, but it only served to feel him inside you ten times deeper.

You see, your initial arrangement got to the point of fucking at any moment, anywhere, any day. No matter what either of you were doing, if it was important or not, if you had time or were in a hurry; if your bodies were ready for it or got taken by surprise. It became normal for the both of you to use each other at any given moment.

Just like right now, you could be having a peaceful moment studying, cooking or even watching a movie and Jungkook would simply slide down whatever clothes you were wearing and slip inside, enjoying the warmth of your velvety walls.

You got so used to it that you no longer were surprised by his sudden actions. And just like you did, Jungkook also got used to your impromptu appearance in his room when he was playing video games with his friends, watching a movie, or even just listening to music.

There was one time when he was on the phone with his brother and you easily walked in his room, pulled down his pants and started to suck the life out of him. Surprisingly, Jungkook did good in suppressing his moans while speaking to his brother.

There were other times when he would be reading a manga on the couch, and without previous warning you would get on top of him and ride his cock as if it was your last wish. Even maintaining a conversation while fucking was the usual for you both.

“What are you reading?” Your airy voice rang through Jungkook’s ears, making him look up from the manga placed on his hands, before continuing reading. “Jujutsu Kaisen, the one I told you about the other day.”

“Is it the one with that Gojo guy?” Your movements got messier and faster, desperately trying to reach your high. “Is it— fuck, is it any good?”

“Mhm, it became one of my favorites.” He answered, but even if Jungkook tried to keep his voice steady you could tell he was getting there. “You should read it. I have a feeling you’d— fuck, just like that... I have a feeling you’d like it.” You nodded, not really finding your voice to answer due to your rapidly approaching orgasm. It was a matter of a few more thrusts before you were coming undone on top of him.

At any moment, any minute, any day and most importantly anywhere. That’s how it would usually go for you two.

Both of you fell into the routine so easily and neither were ready to let go of it anytime soon.

[neil-gaiman]

Hello!

Thought this might be fun. Context: I was with my boyfriend this morning, we’ve been together for more than two years and circled around each other for an embarrassing amount of time in our teens, we met as competitors, Physics Olympiads. Now, we both have some very specific kind of almost opposite personalities. Quite literally night and day, and the fact is reflected on our clothing, I always dress in black/dark grey/burgundy, jeans and blazer or shirt, he tends to wear almost always light colours and shades of blue/khaki (I mockingly call him “blueberry porridge” at times), shirt and pullover or simple tees. We found out about the existence of Good Omens right after S2 was released, since in our department at Uni (Physics) our colleagues, probably also thanks to my customary round shades and partially dark red hair, started referring to the two of us -to me in particular- in a very peculiar manner you might have an idea of. We had to watch the series and read the book. We discovered our colleagues were far more right than it seemed (it’s positively creepy). It became our main source of entertainment. There have been plenty of such conversations, and fights came to an end exactly like this, but the scene that happened this morning was so spontaneous on his part that had me laugh particularly hard so here I am sharing it.

I came back from a small walk, threw my sunglasses on the lectern I have in my room and kicked off my shoes as I usually do. He glared at me as he usually does when I act like that (he’s the “untie your shoes one at a time, loosen the laces a bit and neatly put them near the bedroom door possibly on the same tile” kind of person). This time he added “You see, we couldn’t possibly have children, you’d teach them all the wrong things, you savage”. And I answered, sarcastically and without thinking too much about it “THEN you’ll teach them the good ones so we’ll cancel out and they’ll grow up normal”.

We silently stared at each other for a good 5 seconds. And then he just shouted “HARRY THE RABBIT” and energically waved a towel he was holding in my face.

My life has been a fucking storm till some time ago, and now it’s almost 8 months of it being like this every day. Seriously, thank you (also for the disastrous first kiss. We can relate, for surprisingly analogous reasons, but that’s a bit too personal to share online. What I’d like to say is, even with so many people not liking that part, we ultimately rebuilt our trust in each other thanks to it). Now I have my daily dose of “Get thee behind me foul fiend” every time we try to get through some door at the same time. And every time he says that he lets me get through it first, and I get to give him an annoyed “when-are-we-growing-up” look we both know is as phony as a three-dollar bill.

My heart has been warmed.

[amomentsescape]

Slashers React to You Being Harassed

Warnings: Being verbally harassed by a gross man, some cuss words

A/N: A lot of you seemed to really like the last "Slashers React" fic I did, so I figured I'd write up another one. This came out a little cheesy, but oh well? Hope you enjoy!

Context: You were feeling a little cooped up recently due to being stuck inside from the flu. Now that you were feeling better, you wanted to go out and take some time away from home. But of course, you could never have more than a few minutes of peace. Some older man decides that you are the perfect one to pick on. He attempts to flirt with you, and even after saying "no" a handful of times, he still doesn't get the hint.

Michael Myers

You were honestly a little scared

Not for yourself, but for what was going to happen to the man

Even after weeks of insistence, Michael refused to let you go anywhere on your own

Even if he wasn't right next to you, he was lurking somewhere nearby

He was a blatant and proud stalker

So you knew that it wouldn't take long before-

Welp

The man is now dead with a slit throat

That was quick

"You could have stepped in sooner, you know?"

He just grips onto your hand and drags you back home

"But I've only been outside for five minutes!" you protest

He forces you to stay inside for another couple of weeks

Jason Voorhees

This disgusting man was now attempting to reach out and touch you

You took a step back and tried to put some space between you two

But in the blink of an eye, a large machete burst through his chest at you, your clothes getting splattered with blood

You scream

The now dead man drops to the ground as your eyes meet his killer

"Jesus, Jason! A bit of a warning next time, please."

He just tilts his head at you

You start grumbling about how your clothes were basically ruined now

Jason just picks you up and swings you over his shoulder

"This was my favorite shirt," you continue groaning

He gifts you with a small pocket knife the next day to take with you when you go out

Brahms Heelshire

You promised Brahms you wouldn't step too far off the Heelshire property line

So the fact that anyone was even over here seemed odd to you

And now here you were, wishing Brahms wasn't so weird about leaving the house

Because unfortunately, this man didn't seem like he was going to go away without a fight

So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment

You screamed

It lasted a few seconds

But the man didn't seem fazed

"There's no one else out here, Sweetheart," he said

"Hmm?" a voice spoke behind him

The man spun around and was immediately thrown to the ground

Brahms bashed his head in repeatedly with a rock

"Thank you-" you started

Brahms just grabbed you by the arm and drug you back inside the house

He didn't let you go outside for a while after that

Billy Loomis

You were about ready to punch this man yourself

But you didn't want to risk anything since you were alone

This man was good sized and you knew that trying to fight him probably wouldn't end well for you

But lo and behold, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger

A knife was quickly plunged into the man's throat causing him to bleed out in seconds

After a moment, you finally looked up and saw Billy in front of you

"Thank, God," you sighed, hugging the boy

It took you a second before you pulled away, looking at him in confusion

"Wait, how did you know I was out here?"

Billy avoided your gaze

"Were you stalking me?"

"I like to call it, observing"

You let out a groan

Stu Macher

You're crazy if you think Stu was going to let you outside by yourself

This boy is glued at your hip 24/7

The only reason why this other man was even flirting with you right now is because Stu went off to "take a whizz" as he likes to say

Thankfully, this doesn't normally take him long

So as this man continued to push his luck, Stu walked up next to you, his eyes a little dark

"Is there a problem here, babe?" he asked a little too nicely

How you answer this is definitely going to affect what Stu does next

But this man was pissing you off so...

"Yeah, he won't leave me alone"

And that's all it took for the man to end up dead on his side, a knife in his chest

Afterwards, Stu and you continued your little venture outside

He just held you a lot closer to him the whole time

Eric Draven

You were honestly getting freaked out by this man

In a city like this, anyone could be hurt

But your moment of panic soon died down to the sight of a black crow perching on the nearby building

"Thank you," you murmured

"What was that?" the man spat back

You couldn't help but smile a bit

"You're about to get your ass kicked"

He just laughed at you

Your smile grew when you saw a figure approach the man from behind

He noticed this and turned around, only to be met with the city's best vigilante

"Hi"

The man was suddenly struck with a metal pipe

And he continued to be struck another 17 times

Eric walked up to you after he was done, his painted face dripping with red

"You didn't have to kill him," you said

Eric just shrugged

"Oops?"

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 6. the fight

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Word of Joel's indiscretion spreads quickly through town, leading to a vicious fight. When Joel begins to worry you may never forgive him, he sets into motion a plan to win you back.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, previous infidelity mentioned, violence (fist fight), blood, bruises, jealousy/possessiveness

WC: 8K

Series Masterlist

The thought of leaving your bed was excruciating.

For nearly three days, you could hardly do much more than use the bathroom and drink some water. When you heard Joel leave for patrol, his footsteps always pausing hesitantly on the other side of your door before begrudgingly going down the steps, you would eventually drag yourself downstairs and force yourself to eat something. Anything. It didn't really matter. You didn't crave anything. Didn't look forward to a single thing except the sweet embrace of sleep. But by the fourth day, you knew you would have to go back to work or else Nick would make a house call to check on you.

You had lied and said you hurt your back so you could get out of working for a few days, but enough time had passed, enough tears were shed, enough pity was wasted when you finally forced yourself to get up one morning and take a shower.

It helped more than you thought it would. The steam billowing around you in the confined space, the warm water pummeling your shoulders, working out the kinks in your muscles from too many hours hunched over in agony. If you had any self-awareness, you might have asked yourself why you had such a powerful reaction to Joel kissing someone else. If you had a clear enough mind, you might have remembered you didn't even react this badly when you woke from your accident only to discover your whole family was dead and the world went to hell.

No, you only seemed to fall into a deep depression over Joel finding comfort from another woman.

And not just any woman. Angie.

It still made your blood boil as you slipped on clean clothes for work. You should have known she was a shark, smelling blood in the water that very first night when she cornered you in the bathroom.

And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to accuse you of not caring. Not giving a shit about him, to be exact.

That fucking asshole.

When you came down the stairs and spotted the coffee maker still on with your favorite mug next to the carafe, you scoffed and kept walking to grab your coat. As much as you wanted some coffee, you were too stubborn to accept Joel's shitty gesture.

The winter sun was blinding against the snow. Or maybe your eyes were just too swollen and dry, too accustomed to staying in the darkness of your bedroom for days on end, but whatever it was caused you to wince and rub your face.

"Hey! You're alive!" you heard Ellie's voice call out from the driveway. She was walking up the path at the exact same time as you with her backpack slung over one shoulder and her winter jacket unzipped.

"Yeah, barely," you replied, wishing you had some of the coffee Joel had left behind. You took the porch steps carefully and met her out on the sidewalk, your pupils finally adjusting to the brightness. "How's it going, kid?"

She opened her mouth to reply but paused, giving you a funny look.

"What's wrong?" you asked, unable to read her expression.

"Nothing, just that nickname... took me by surprise," she laughed with a shake of her head, "you used to call me that before. Haven't heard it in a long time, I guess." You shielded your eyes and shrugged.

"Common nickname, I suppose," you reasoned, and she nodded in agreement.

"How's the back?" she asked with a point, and you almost had to ask her what she was talking about before you remembered your lie.

"Oh! Much better, thanks. Must've pulled a muscle or something, who knows."

"Well, that's good. Listen, I gotta get to school, but do you wanna get dinner later with me and Dina? Seth's making mac and cheese, and it's like, the fucking best, dude," she said excitedly, and you didn't have the heart to say no.

"Yeah, sounds great," you smiled, then gave her a quick wave before heading in the opposite direction towards the infirmary.

It was only a short ten minute walk to work, but the fresh air combined with stretching your muscles for the first time in days really did something to improve your mood. By the time you pushed open the door to the infirmary, you were actually looking forward to working again.

And so was Nick, apparently, because his eyes lit up and his body sagged with relief when he saw you.

"I was a few hours away from sneaking you the good pills and begging you to come back," he joked, then his face turned serious. "Everything alright? What happened?"

"Oh, I'm fine," you said, waving off his concern, "I slipped on some ice and pulled a muscle, it's all good now."

"Well, be careful out there, alright? You're the best aide I have."

"I'm the only aide you have," you corrected him before hanging up your jacket. "What do you need me to do?"

The morning went by fast. Nick had told you in the few days you were out, the clinic wasn't terribly busy, but he unfortunately did fall behind on housekeeping. So you busied yourself running loads of sheets and blankets to the laundry, then sanitizing equipment until Mr. Phillips came in after lunch with a laceration on his arm from working in the stables. It wasn't a bad injury, but it required some cleaning and a few stitches, which you were secretly eager to observe. You wanted to get more exposure to stitching in the hopes of being able to take care of non-emergency injuries by yourself one day.

It felt good to feel useful again. Staying busy forced your mind off Joel and the whole mess waiting for you at home, and you were grateful for the distraction. So much so that you decided to stay a little longer than usual and fold the linens that came back from the laundry. You were killing two birds with one stone: staying busy and avoiding going home in between work and dinner. By now, you knew he'd be back and likely waiting for you, and you still had no idea what you would say.

As the sun began to set and the world outside the infirmary grew darker, you slid your coat back on and locked the door behind you before heading for the dining hall.

Shoving your hands deep into your pockets, you tucked your chin against your chest, feet carrying you swiftly through the streets, eyes cast down and avoiding others as best you could. When you arrived at the dining hall, it was packed, per usual, but you did manage to spot Ellie and Dina holding a small table in the back of the room. As you weaved your way through the crowd, you noticed they were sharing some bread and butter and you felt your stomach rumble. For the first time in days, you felt excited to eat.

"Hey," you said in greeting as you dropped your coat over the back of an empty chair before giving them each a half hug. "Freezing out there."

"Give it a second. It's hotter than hell in here," Dina joked before pushing the basket of bread in your direction. You plopped down into your chair and moaned when you felt the bread was still warm, then tore off little pieces and popped them into your mouth.

"Hungry?" Ellie asked, only partially joking as you nodded vigorously.

"Did you order the mac and cheese yet?"

"Yeah, didn't want him to run out," she replied as she eased back into her chair and turned her head toward Dina. "Do you see Chris and Holly over there? What are they thinking? They know that shit'll get back to Claire. What a bunch of assholes."

"Who?" you asked, your voice muffled around the bread.

"Couple of kids in our class," Dina explained, nodding towards the other side of the hall. You twisted around, your eyes scanning the crowd until you saw a younger couple sitting together, the girl sitting on the guy's lap and toying with his hair. "That's Chris, and he's been dating this girl, Claire, for like, what? Six months or so? And look at him. Letting that hussy crawl all over him. Men are pigs."

You choked on your laughter and took a swig of water. If only they knew.

Ellie's eyes lit up as she looked at something behind you, and you turned around to follow her gaze, spotting Seth as he made his way through the crowd with three plates of mac and cheese. However, just over his left shoulder you happened to notice Joel for the first time since you arrived, but by the looks of it, it was not the first time he noticed you.

He was sitting at his usual table with Tommy and another guy from patrol you vaguely recognized, the other two men engrossed in conversation while Joel pinned you with his stare. You quickly turned away, your cheeks feeling flush, and tried to focus on your dinner.

"Shit, this looks amazing," you said, distracted by the cheesy, piping hot dish set in front of you.

"I'm telling you, man, it's the fucking best," Ellie told you before digging in. You had to stifle a moan when the food hit your tongue for the first time, eternally grateful for the impeccable timing because all you could think about in that moment was how good it tasted, Joel temporarily forgotten for the first time in days.

"Didn't you eat today?" Dina asked, her lips twitching into a grin, and you shook your head.

"Not really. Haven't had much of an appetite this week," you told her, and Ellie tilted her head to the side.

"Your pain was that bad?"

"Huh?" you asked, then it dawned on you once again. The Lie. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I ate a little, I just wanted to sleep, I guess."

"Joel didn't make sure you ate?" she pressed, her eyes flicking over your shoulder. You dropped your fork, scrambling to come up with yet another lie when her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, making you twist around to see what made her demeanor change so suddenly.

As you expected, she was looking in Joel's direction, but he was no longer looking at your table. It was impossible considering Angie was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view with her body, her hand resting on the back of his chair.

"What is she up to now?" Dina murmured to Ellie, but you could hardly register her words. The way your anger ignited deep within your chest and licked up your throat, it was a miracle you even remembered to breathe. Joel's legs shifted, knees turned away from her, but that was all you could see. You couldn't see the look on his face or hear what was said. You couldn't see where his hands were. But you could see Angie flick her long, straight hair over her shoulder with a flirty laugh that was clearly meant to pull attention onto her.

If you didn't have tunnel vision, you would have noticed she was successful. A few heads turned, men's eyes lingering on her backside while women's eyes darted in your direction, but you were incapable of processing any of it. Ellie was saying your name, but you couldn't hear her over the ringing in your ears.

It was less than a minute. Thirty seconds, tops, and she walked away from him with a sickly grin plastered across her face, her two friends returning her mischievous smile before flanking her side, making their way towards the exit like a swarm of bees.

Without even thinking, you stood up.

"What are you doing?" Ellie asked, but you ignored her. Instead, you pushed your way through the crowd in a trance, shouldering people out of your way without so much as an apology, too laser focused on your target to care.

"Joel!" Ellie called out to him. He was rubbing his face angrily, trying to avoid his brother's eyes glaring at him in disbelief over what he just overheard Angie say when he heard Ellie. Great, she knows, too, he initially thought, but when he looked up and saw Ellie and Dina, panic-stricken, making their way towards the exit, he realized something was happening. He didn't see you until you emerged from the crowd and reached for the door, swinging it open and allowing a cool blast of air into the room before disappearing outside.

"Oh, shit," Joel mumbled, snatching his coat and forcing his way through all the people as quickly as he could. Tommy followed, confused at first, until he realized you were no longer at your table and then it clicked.

By the time you made it outside, you nearly missed where they went, but luck was on your side because her high-pitched giggle danced through the bitter cold air and you twisted your head to the left, just in time to see the three women in the shadow of night round a corner and head down a residential street.

You were nearly running to catch up with them, but you couldn't feel your feet hit the ground or hear the gravel crunching under your boots. And neither did they, because when you found yourself less than ten feet away, they were still giggling and talking animatedly amongst themselves, completely oblivious to your presence.

Skidding to a stop, you shouted, "Hey!"

All three women swirled around in surprise, their eyes wide and their smiles slipping from their faces when they sensed the rage radiating from your body. But even still, Angie tried to play dumb.

"Can we help you?" she asked sarcastically with a dry laugh, but when you took a step forward, she went quiet.

"Yeah," you sneered, fists clenching at your sides, "I had a question for you, actually."

Angie looked perplexed, not expecting that, so she held her hands out to her side, urging you to continue while Ellie and Dina caught up, standing a few paces back.

"Did you run out of dick to suck in this town or are you just that fucking bored you thought you'd give home wrecking a try?"

Dina snickered behind you and Ellie gasped.

"Home wrecking?" she replied, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. "Is that what you'd call your man following me into the ladies room at the bar so he could shove his tongue down my throat?"

Your nostrils flared and your ears began to make that buzzing noise again, so you dug your nails into your palms, desperately trying to ground yourself.

"Can I even call him your man?" she taunted, feeling like she got the upper hand. "Are you even together anymore? You clearly don't fuck him if he was looking for it from-"

You couldn't even remember moving. Your feet had a mind of their own as you closed the distance between you with two long strides and swung your arm back with as much force as you could muster, backhanding Angie right across the mouth.

Her hands flew up to her face and her two friends stumbled backwards in surprise, but all you saw was red. Before she could recover, you grabbed her by the coat and threw her down onto the muddy street, knocking the wind out of her with a sharp gasp. Quickly, before she could get up, you straddled her midsection. With your left hand pressing down on her chest and your right balled into a fist near your head, you landed a punch right on her perfect little nose with a sickening crunch, causing a trail of blood to trickle out of her nostrils seconds later. But that didn't stop you. You kept going, your knuckles, now bloody, marring her flesh over and over again, but when you made contact with her jawbone, you flinched, a jolt of pain shooting down your middle finger making you pause.

That was when Angie saw her opportunity.

She vaulted you off her with her hips and she rolled to her side, pinning you to the ground with blood dripping down her face. She scratched desperately at your eyes and mouth, your hands coming up to protect yourself with a yelp, before she began landing weak punches against your cheek and mouth. And even though they weren't as forceful as your hits, her weight pinning you down kept you from reclaiming the upper hand.

Ellie and Dina were shouting your name, but you tuned them out. All you could focus on was Angie, blocking her punches as best you could while you waited for your opportunity to take her down.

Then, Angie's hand wrapped around your throat, her fingers pressing into your windpipe. Your hands grabbed her wrist as you fought for air and violently thrashed underneath her.

"Face it," she hissed, leaning down and putting more pressure against your throat, "If it was that easy, I was doing you a favor. He never really loved you, you were just an easy fuck before your brain got all scrambled."

Her words were exactly what you needed to get your second wind.

With an angry roar, you punched her right in the throat, and although you couldn't get much force behind it, it was enough to make her loosen her grip in surprise. And just as Tommy and Joel were running up the street, you tossed Angie to the side and scrambled back on top of her. But this time, you didn't stop.

You were merciless, your hands were a blur. Fists rained down blows upon her face while she desperately tried to shield herself, but it was no use.

"Stop!" she sobbed, begging, but the fear in her voice just egged you on.

Blood began to stain her yellow hair, her perfect skin began to turn red and purple while your fists never stopped, each blow creating a new mark or cut. You couldn't stop if you tried. Something snapped and you unlocked a part of yourself you didn't know, or didn't remember, existed. Some part of you that was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor. And it wasn't until Joel hooked his arms underneath yours and hauled you back that you finally stopped, your chest heaving and your eyes wild.

"Y-you crazy b-bitch!" Angie sputtered, blood trickling from her nose and mouth as Tommy knelt in front of her.

"You haven't seen crazy!" you screamed as you kicked and struggled to get out of Joel's grip. Tommy reached down to help Angie up and he motioned for her friends to come forward. "Stay the fuck away from us or I'll fucking kill you!" you shouted, "You hear me, you fucking whore? I will fucking kill you!"

"Calm down!" Joel yelled from behind, but your blood boiled as you focused your rage on him.

"Get your fucking hands off me," you snarled, wrenching your arms out of his grasp. "This is your fault!" you continued, pointing your finger in his face and backing away, ignoring the tortured look he gave you. A sick part of you was pleased to see the sting of your words land.

"I think she needs to see Nick," Tommy said as both of Angie's friends struggled to help her up.

"She's lucky she's alive," you snapped as you wiped the back of your hand over your bloody face.

"Holy shit, dude," Ellie murmured as you turned around, her eyes all wide with shock.

"I'm going home," you grumbled, wiping more blood from your cheek as you began the journey back to your house on shaky legs, wondering how on earth you were expected to share a space with Joel after tonight. Dina and Ellie exchanged some quick words as you left before Ellie quickly caught up with you.

"I'll clean you up."

"You don't-"

"I know. But I want to," she said, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, and it took everything in you not to lean into her and let her drag you home.

You were exhausted. Mentally and physically. And you just wanted to go to bed. But you were grateful for Ellie. Someone who cared, someone who saw you were hurting and needed help without having to ask for it. So you let her clean you up in your bathroom when you arrived back home, her nimble fingers delicately pressing against your wounds, cleansing them as best she could before pressing band aids and butterfly bandages against your cuts and then making you an ice pack to help with the swelling.

She tucked you into bed and made you drink some water before sitting down on the edge of your mattress with a sigh.

"I had no idea," she began, and you quickly waved her off.

"I know. It's... I know," you said, at a loss for words.

"You didn't really hurt your back, did you?" she asked, and you slowly shook your head. "That motherfucker," she seethed, "I can't believe him, I'm going to kill him, I swear-"

"Just leave him alone," you told her, "Let me handle it."

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, each of you lost in your own thoughts before she spoke again.

"It wasn't like that before," she began, and at first you weren't following, but then you realized: she was talking about before your accident. "You were crazy about each other. Angie was never an issue. Neither of you paid her any attention. She just saw an opportunity and took advantage," Ellie said as her fingers tangled in her lap. "I shouldn't even be saying this, it feels like I'm defending him, but I swear. I was with you guys all the time. You were in love, man."

"Things changed, I guess," you said sadly, but she shook her head.

"You guys are what inspired me and Dina to go for it," she said softly, avoiding your gaze. "We were scared, but I saw how you two were together and how you made it work and, I don't know," she said, picking at her fingernail, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I look up to you guys. And it's kind of fucking with my head right now that all this is happening."

"Ellie, no," you said, shifting a bit in bed and reaching out to her. "Don't say that. Don't question what you and Dina have because of me and Joel."

She swallowed and looked at you, her eyes soft and worried.

"Why did he do it?" she asked quietly, and you could hear the pain in her voice. Pressing your lips together, you shrugged.

"It's complicated."

She nodded and looked away. "Will you do me a favor?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Would you give him a chance? Just hear him out and let him explain?" she begged, and you immediately bristled. "You don't have to forgive him. Just... don't give up yet. Please. He loves you, I know it, and... and I think you love him, too."

You scoffed then cleared your throat, your fingers coming up to press gently on your tender neck. "I don't love him," you croaked, but she shook her head.

"If you don't love him then why do you care so much?" she countered, and you fell silent, unable to give her an answer, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room. "Why did you almost kill Angie for sleeping with him if you didn't love him?"

"Sleeping with - no, Ellie. They didn't have sex. He kissed her," you quickly explained, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You rearranged her face because he kissed her?" she asked in disbelief, then laughed softly and stood up. "I'm not saying he didn't fuck up, but dude. Come on. You gotta see it, now, right?"

You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes.

"Alright. For you, I'll... talk to him, or whatever," you grumbled half-heartedly.

"Thank you," she said, her voice sounding more like herself once again before turning to leave and allowing you to rest. If you had any inkling she was trying to manipulate you into forgiving Joel, it was quickly expunged because you awoke an hour later to her arguing with him in the living room when he arrived home, the conversation ending with her storming out of the house and then his weary footsteps slowly climbing up the stairs.

Once again, you watched as he paused outside your room, two narrow shadows cast by his legs breaking up the thin beam of light under your door until he thought better of it and kept walking, his own bedroom door closing softly with a click.

The pain was worse the next morning, but you refused to admit it. The cuts burned and the bruises throbbed, but you were too stubborn to let any weakness show, although one look at your bruised neck would tell anyone the truth. You forced yourself out of bed, feeling too guilty to bail on Nick after already taking so many days off to wallow in your own misery, and washed up before heading downstairs. Much to your surprise, Joel was sitting at the kitchen table, his big hand cupping a mug of coffee while he stared blankly at the wall, lost in his own thoughts. When you first saw his face, the bags under his eyes evident, even from across the room, it was clear he hardly got any sleep.

Good, you thought. Then you remembered your promise to Ellie and bit back whatever nasty remark you were getting ready to toss his way. Instead, you dragged yourself to the coffee maker, ignoring the mug Joel left out for you and choosing your own, unable to resist the urge to be just a little bit spiteful.

He cleared his throat as you poured your coffee, a warning he was about to speak, and your shoulders tensed.

"How're you feelin'?"

"About as good as I look," you muttered, bringing the coffee to your lips and taking a tiny sip before turning around. He looked up at you, for the first time seeing the extent of your injuries and he jolted forward in his chair, fighting back the instinct to stand up and inspect your wounds. He blinked rapidly, gaze skirting over your face and neck, worry etching his features until you sighed.

"It's not really that bad," you admitted, looking down at your feet.

"Tell Nick t'give you somethin' when you get to work," he said, voice strained. You nodded and took another sip of your coffee. He swallowed nervously before inching forward in his chair and clasping his hands between his knees. "I'm sorry," he said, the words laced with guilt and shame. "I'm so sorry, I fucked up. But you gotta believe me, I didn't go out that night lookin' for her or anyone else. I just wanted to drink and be alone for a little while." He rubbed his palms over his face while you still stared down at the floor, listening.

"I believe you," you finally said after a tense stretch of silence. He dropped his hands and looked up.

"You do?"

"Doesn't mean I forgive you, but I believe you didn't run out of here looking to shove your tongue down someone else's throat."

He grimaced and dropped his chin to his chest.

"D'you think-" he cut himself off and took a deep breath before forcing himself to look at you again. "D'you think you could ever forgive me?"

You closed your eyes and pressed your lips into a thin line.

"I don't know," you said quietly. Your head was pounding, so you rubbed your forehead, his eyes trained on you anxiously from across the room, knee bouncing slightly as he waited to hear you say anything that would give him a glimmer of hope. "You really fucking hurt me, Joel," you said, trying to hide your lower lip as it trembled, but he heard the pain in your voice and it broke his heart.

"I know, I'm an asshole and I don't deserve you. I never did. Not after what happened at the hospital and definitely not now," he said, standing up and taking a few hesitant steps in your direction, stopping when he reached the kitchen island. "But I'll do whatever it takes. I'll wait as long as I need to, I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you, prove to you that-"

"I don't want to lead you on, Joel," you said solemnly, eyes watering. "I can't promise I'll ever move past it. I'm not sure we're strong enough to get through this."

"Yes, we are," he told you adamantly, "I don't want anyone else. I only want you. You ain't leadin' me on because I don't wanna go anywhere else. I don't care what that looks like in the future, I'll take whatever you give me, that's all I want."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the wobble in his voice, and looked into the living room, the framed photo of your house that Ellie drew for you several Christmases ago, the same one you read about in your journal, catching your eye, and you felt yourself tear up.

I just want to go home, you thought, but home no longer existed. This was your home, like it or not.

You turned away, looking out the window over the sink blinking back tears, but Joel had already followed your gaze to the photo.

"I should get going," you said, voice thick. You chugged whatever coffee you could and dumped the rest in the sink.

"I'm gonna make it up to you," he said, following you to the door, "I'm gonna make this right." You scoffed.

"Yeah, okay," you mumbled sarcastically, shoving on your boots and coat before swinging open the door and heading out into the frigid winter morning, big flakes of snow slowly swirling and falling from the sky as Joel watched you trudge down the street, hunched over and curled in on yourself. A shell of the person he knew you to be.

He did that. He caused you pain. And it made him sick.

But at least he finally thought of a way he could prove how much you meant to him.

Sweat covered your forehead by the time you made it to the infirmary, your wool knit cap to blame for the excessive heat pouring from your head while your face was ice cold. You yanked it off your head and shed your coat before making your way to the back, your hair sticking to your forehead. Nick was nowhere to be found, but one of the exam room doors was closed and you heard voices murmuring on the other side. Assuming he had an early patient, you pulled your hair back and got to work. It was supposed to be a quiet day. Nick wanted you to work on an updated inventory list after getting a big batch of supplies two weeks prior from an unexplored hole-in-the-wall pharmacy.

The exam room door swung open, the voices clearer now, and your shoulders stiffened when you recognized the patient. You should have assumed Angie would be there that day, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to you.

Your anger had diffused a bit since the night before, that raw, exposed nerve quelled by time, but that didn't stop you from glaring at her as she passed by the inventory closet. Her swollen eyes widened with fear when she saw you and for the first time, you got a good look at the damage you inflicted. Her nose was clearly broken, she was missing a tooth and both eyes were black and blue, but the cuts on her cheeks and lips were superficial, at best.

She kept walking, not daring to say a word in your direction as your eyes followed her out the door. When she left, Nick turned around with a sigh and crossed his arms.

"How're you feeling?"

You shrugged and turned back to your clipboard. "I'm alright."

"You look like shit," he said, sidling up next to you and plucking the ibuprofen from the shelf. He tapped out two pills and dropped them into your palm before closing the bottle, putting it back where it belonged. "Did you eat?"

With just a shake of your head you popped the pills, swallowing them dry before turning back to your task.

"You gotta eat something with those, it'll tear up your stomach," he said, disappearing down the hallway and coming back a few minutes later with an apple. You grimaced but took it anyway, unable to stop your mind from replaying the memory of peeling apples with Joel just a week prior. Before everything went to hell.

Nick watched you quietly for a moment as you chewed your apple slowly and read down the list of medications on your clipboard.

"Do you, uh," he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "do you need someone to talk to?" You glanced up at him in surprise and he dropped his hand back to his side. "We don't have to talk about it. But I know you still feel like you're a stranger in this town, and that's gotta be tough." He scratched his greying chin as he glanced around the room and you had to fight back the laugh that bubbled up your throat. You couldn't help it.

He noticed the amused look on your face at his discomfort and pretended to be annoyed when he muttered, "just come find me if you wanna talk or whatever," but you knew it was just an act. Nick was typically a quiet man, kept to himself and hardly ever spoke to his patients, let alone you, his employee, about personal matters. The fact he was trying now must mean he really thought you needed it.

The older man disappeared down the hall to his office and you smiled to yourself, then focused back on work, grateful for something that took your mind off your misery, even if it was just for a moment.

"What the hell do you want?" Tommy scowled when he flung open his door to find his older brother waiting on the other side, hands shoved deep in his pockets, weight shifting foot to foot in an effort to keep warm.

"C'mon, Tommy, I'm gettin' it from all angles, here."

"I don't give a shit," he spat, turning on his heel to retreat back into the house, but left the front door open. Joel took a step inside and quietly shut the door behind him, glancing around the entryway and peering into the living room as he took off his outerwear.

"Maria home?"

"No, she's down at the stables with Violet. Showin' her the horses, gettin' her outta the house," he grumbled, angrily putting away dishes as he spoke. Joel sighed and flattened his palms against the counter.

"I gotta ask for a favor."

Tommy scoffed and shook his head. "You're a piece of work, y'know that?"

"Yeah, I fuckin' know. Jesus Christ, Tommy, I made one goddamn mistake!" Joel yelled, slapping his hand against the cool countertop. Tommy twisted around, brow furrowed, and crossed his arms.

"Don't take an attitude with me," Tommy said through clenched teeth, "I don't give a shit if everyone's gangin' up on you. You deserve it! I thought she was the one you wanted to spend your life with? The one you'd do anythin' for?"

"She is!" Joel exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair. Tommy's eyes softened while he watched his brother struggle, the enormity of what he did clearly taking its toll.

"Then what the fuck were you thinkin'?" he asked after a few moments, tone pleading. "Everythin' was goin' so well. You guys were havin' a nice time at the party, laughin' and smilin', we all saw it. Then you take 'er home and step out like that?"

"It's not- I was drunk and misread some things," Joel replied, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. "I tried to kiss her, she shot me down and I didn't take it all that well, alright?" Joel dropped his hand, exasperated, and looked at Tommy once again, taking a deep breath. "Went to the bar to drink and Angie sunk her claws into me. I got the hell outta there and confessed the second I got home but... didn't matter," he said, hanging his head between his shoulders.

"Angie said you followed her into the bathroom, Joel. Don't bullshit me, I was sittin' right there."

"I know, Jesus, it's my fault. I was drinkin' and upset and she was just... there. Pesterin' me and pushin' my buttons. It was only a second, Tommy. Nothin' else happened, y'hear me?" Joel's eyes were wide and desperate as he stared at his little brother across the kitchen.

"It's no excuse, Joel," Tommy said sadly. Joel pushed off the counter with a huff and yanked angrily at his disheveled hair again.

"I know that. I'm just tellin' you how it went down. But I gotta make it up to her. I gotta make it right."

"How the hell do you plan on doin' that? 'Cause from where I'm sittin', only way she could move past it is if I take her back out into the woods so she can hit her head again and forget," Tommy said.

Joel rolled his eyes and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.

"I got an idea. Don't know if it'll work, but it's all I can think of to prove what she means to me," he said softly, staring down at his fingers twisting together in his lap.

Tommy sized his brother up and down before taking a few steps closer, his hands coming to grip the back of a chair as he leaned forward.

"Let's hear it."

Joel sighed and tilted his chin up. "I need a week off from patrol. I gotta leave Jackson. And I need a horse."

"What?" Tommy asked incredulously. "In the middle of winter? Absolutely not. You'll die out there."

"I survived out there before I came to Jackson, I'll be fine."

"Been a long fuckin' time and you weren't alone when you did it," Tommy argued.

"You offerin' to help?" Joel asked, and Tommy laughed dryly. But Joel continued to stare at him.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"'Course I am," Joel replied, "she ain't ever gonna forgive me but I gotta do somethin', Tommy. I can't lose her, and right now, it really feels like I'm gonna lose her." Joel's voice cracked and he turned away, looking out the window so Tommy couldn't see the emotion behind his eyes.

Tommy groaned and yanked a chair out to sit down.

"What'dya need me to do?"

It was a long day on your feet and your face hurt more than you cared to admit, so by the time you arrived home, you decided to make yourself a sandwich and go to bed early, skipping an appearance at the dining hall where you knew half the town would be gawking at you and your wounds, anyway.

Fortunately, Joel was up in his room with the door closed when you quietly snuck upstairs with your sandwich. You were still emotionally exhausted from your brief conversation that morning and you were grateful he wasn't looking to have another one.

Nick had sent you home with one of the good pills, as he called it, so you took it with your meal and within the hour, you were out cold. Maybe if you hadn't taken the pill, you would have been awake to hear Joel's bedroom door squeak open, the rustling of fabric and the tinkling of metal cutting through the quiet hallway as he gripped his sleeping bag in one hand and his backpack stuffed with supplies in the other.

Like he usually did, he paused outside your room, his eyes lingering on the doorknob, ears straining for any sign that you were awake, that maybe you had a change of heart and he could call the whole trip off, but he was only met with silence.

He swallowed and turned towards the stairs, quietly tiptoeing down and packed another bag with food from the pantry before setting all three items by the door. At the last minute, he decided to leave a note, not even certain you would notice or care he was gone, but he knew Tommy would be furious when he found out he lied to him earlier and he really didn't want his brother to waste manpower trying to hunt him down in the wilderness. So he grabbed a pen from a drawer and an old envelope. The tip of his pen hovered over the paper as he struggled with what to say, then finally decided to keep it brief before scribbling his note, leaving it by the coffee maker where he knew you would see it.

Lastly, he strode into the living room and grabbed one more thing, shoving it into his backpack before piling on his layers and heading out the front door, giving the house one last forlorn glance before slipping quietly into the night.

It was your day off, so naturally you allowed yourself to sleep in a little, hoping that the extra rest would help your bruises to heal. At the very least, you were pleased to discover the pain around your throat was significantly better than the day before.

You didn't hear Joel when you got up, but that was typical. He usually had early morning patrol shifts and was back by the afternoon, but when you came downstairs and saw the coffee wasn't made like it normally was, you froze. Your eyes drifted around, noticing his coat and boots were missing.

Maybe he was running behind and just didn't have time to make coffee.

As unusual as that might be, it was the only logical conclusion until you walked over to the coffee maker and saw an aged envelope sticking out of your favorite mug. You frowned and picked it up, eyes quickly scanning the words once, then three more times before the panic set in, your stomach churning worse and worse each time.

Tell Tommy I'll be back in a week.

He knows why.

No matter what, just know I love you with my whole heart, in this world or the next.

Joel

Boots unlaced and coat unzipped, you raced down the street towards Tommy's house, the envelope gripped tightly in your fist.

What the hell did that mean? Where did he go? What is he doing? And why did he sneak out without telling Tommy?

You banged on the door, the wood rattling violently under your clenched fist, only afterwards realizing you could have been waking their daughter but fortunately when the door opened, you saw Violet and Maria playing in the living room over Tommy's shoulder.

"What's goin' on, sugar? You okay?" he asked, voice filled with concern when he saw the look on your face.

"Joel's gone," you said hurriedly before pushing past him and entering the house, yanking off your hat and exchanging glances with Maria from across the room.

"Gone? What'dya mean, gone?"

"I mean I woke up today and he was gone, Tommy!" you exclaimed, handing him the note. "Where did he go?!"

You were aware your voice was panicky, that your eyes were wide with fear and your breath was fast and shallow, but you didn't care how it looked to them in that moment.

Tommy scanned the note and sighed, rubbing his forehead before urging you to join him in the living room, where he collapsed onto the sofa.

"That idiot," he murmured under his breath, handing you back the envelope.

"Where is he, Tommy?" you tried again, hoping to sound less frantic this time.

He glanced at Maria before meeting your gaze.

"He was here yesterday afternoon. Told me he needed a favor. Said he needed a week off from patrol and a horse."

"To do what?" you pressed, sinking down into an armchair next to the couch.

"He said-" he cut himself off and looked down at the note in your hand, ticking his jaw to the side as if he was contemplating how much to tell you.

"Spit it out," you demanded, and his eyes snapped back up to you.

"Said he had a plan to make things up to you. For, y'know," he waved his hand in the air, not wanting to say it. You shook your head.

"What was his plan?"

"He wouldn't tell me everything but I offered to help," Tommy admitted, glancing guiltily at Maria who shot him a surprised glare. "Said he needed to go to California, that he wanted to bring a piece of you back. I'm guessin' you're from out that way?" Tommy asked, and you nodded slowly. "He said he would wait 'til I talked to Maria and worked out the schedule but I guess he decided to fuck off-"

"Tommy!" Maria scolded sharply, covering Violet's ears, and Tommy cringed.

"Sorry," he said softly before turning back to you. "Guess he decided to lone-wolf it."

Your eyes drifted back to the note in your hand, swallowing the lump in your throat while your mind raced to catch up.

"What if he doesn't make it?" you asked, eyes still glued to the envelope, "what if he dies out there and it's all my fault?"

They heard your voice waver and exchanged sympathetic looks.

"He made a choice, he knew the risks," Maria said, "but he's a capable guy. If there were anybody who could make it out there alone, it's Joel."

"Listen, I'd send a couple guys out there lookin' for him but there's a storm brewin'," Tommy said, rubbing his chin and glancing out the window. "Been watchin' those clouds build up over the mountains all week. Told Joel as much and he agreed to wait but reckon he changed his mind and wanted to get in front of it."

"Or it was his plan all along to leave alone and he just made sure no one would come after him," Maria said, making the three of you fall quiet.

"God, what do I do?" you murmured, burying your face in your hands.

Tommy glanced at Maria and she subtly nodded towards the kitchen. He stood and cleared his throat before reaching his arms out towards his daughter.

"C'mere, let's get you somethin' to eat before naptime," he said, lifting Violet and taking her into the kitchen to give you both some privacy.

"What's going on?" Maria asked softly as she sat down in Tommy's place on the couch. You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap.

"I don't know," you said truthfully, "I'm so fucking angry at him, but..."

Maria pursed her lips knowingly. "But you still care."

You groaned and leaned back into the chair. "Yes."

"It's not like you're telling me or anyone else something we didn't already know," she said, "not after what happened with you and Angie in the middle of the street. I mean, look at you," she pointed to your bruised neck. "No one fights like that for someone they don't love."

"I don't love him," you said sternly, eyes flashing angrily in her direction. "You sound like Ellie."

"Okay, so if two people are telling you-"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," you abruptly stood up, brushing your palms on your jeans. "Sorry to barge in like this. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm actually looking forward to a week of quiet," you tried to say confidently despite how tight your throat felt as you headed towards the door.

Maria called your name as she trailed after you, urging you to stay and talk, but you just pressed your lips together and shook your head.

"Seriously, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile across your face. "I have some stuff to do so I'll see you guys at dinner or something."

Before she or Tommy could say anything else, you slipped out the door and rushed down the street, back towards home.

It wasn't until later that afternoon, after you had scrubbed clean the kitchen and bathrooms, doing anything and everything you could to stay busy, that you noticed the missing picture from the wall in the living room.

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[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

[running-with-kn1ves]

hii! i wanted to ask if you could do a yandere kidnapper x yandere darling? like rich depressed yan that can't imagine living without their darling and ended up taking drastic action, only to find out that darling is way more insane and obsessed passionate than they thought

A/N: I've never been super big on the yan x yan trope but I think this came out kinda cool! Hope this is what you were looking for <3

Synopsis: Sneaking into your beloved's bedroom bent on getting pictures for your stash, you're quickly found by him, who's surprisingly enthusiastic to find you breaking in.

CW: Kidnapping, mutual obsession, shrine dedications, murder (offscreen lol)

WC:3000+

“Nice… new pics for the blog.” 

Your camera click click clicked with a shutter noise each time you rapid fired its capture button, eye so close to the screen you might as well be looking through the viewfinder solely itself. 

“I can see it now… his unkept bedroom revealed, beautiful little face plastered beside this… heap.” 

You looked at the pile of dirty clothes that had yet to be picked up by the estate's cleaning ladies. Well, if you were as filthy rich as he was, you’d probably do the same. Who would waste time cleaning their room when you have the whole world to see? Or in his case, a million press conferences to attend. 

Your eye was drawn to a slightly ajar closet, an odd lock seeming to have been hastily unfastened, now leaving the doors peeking open. Something red was inside. Oh boy, you could hardly contain your excitement. 

What kind of secrets would the famous, wealthy heir Elijah Walsh have in his teensy private closet? Mayhaps some drag dress up that no fan would expect? Dead bodies? Or even, the rumored cocaine stash his poor daddy was accused of hiding? 

You knew Elijah like the back of your hand, unable to imagine any kind of hidden truths that you haven't already discovered. For you, a superfan, (and ultimately, the soulmate he doesn't know about yet) were aware of far more than the average tabloid who didn’t cross trespassing boundaries for love like you had. 

You ripped open the doors without hesitation, snapping pics before even turning the light on. 

But what you saw, was something you weren’t sure you’d want to keep on camera. 

It was you. Well, a picture of you, from some yearbook or singled-out group shot that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact year from. Around your awkward grinning face was a series of items, pinned on a pretty red board like it was a crime scene of sorts. Or maybe… a shrine?

“What the f… is that my underwear??” You looked at the old pair of stretched out undies you had since middle school. Definitely not the pair you’d want some kind of stalker or investigator to get their hands on. 

You saw a few old chapsticks taped to the board, one of which you had been searching for in some old bag you swore you left it in. “I was looking for those!” You grabbed the chapstick and a broken brush, the exact same you thought you had thrown away months ago. 

Out of all the things you hoped to find-- used Q-tips, one of his musky jackets, maybe even some dark sex toys-- this wasn’t on your list. But you couldn’t help the spike in your heart, the flutter that made your toes point inward. 

You had been running this journalist (really a stalker-ish) blog on Elijah since before he got big in the press. You went to the same elementary school and for a short time in middle school, and ever since you couldn’t get his name out of your head. Now, you had a justified reason to keep tabs on him, since his family was currently in the public eye for a variety of deeds. 

Along with professing your obsession with him since childhood, your blog dated the shocking events of his controversies--  keeping it all under an anonymous pen name, of course. You had information news sites couldn’t get their hands on; the dedication you put into watching him was a trait of pride you could never let go. 

Memories of him comforted you at night, and seeing his pretty face in the grocery store magazines hoarded under your bed made you drift off to daydream land where, maybe, you’d be more than just some heavy breathing keyboard jammer fawning over him from a distance.. 

And here was, you. Your things. In his room. Even from the times you climbed the tree beside his window, you never saw this… anomaly of items. 

“What’s this even… mean.” You whispered, dumfounded and growing antsy. Elijah would be coming back now any second, the route of his driver dinging on your phone. 

‘Wait.. does he, know? That I’ve been watching him? Is this all evidence to… incriminate me??’

Worry was creeping up inside of you. But there was no time, not when a heavy vase clunked against your head from behind, letting out a resounding ‘crack!’ from the contact. The chapstick fell from your fingers, camera sliding with you as it lingered loose around your neck. 

The last thing you could think of before darkness hit, was ‘man, I hope I don’t fall on my camera… can’t replace it again. ‘

The unconscious darkness blinding your eyes was snuffed out what seemed hours later, replaced by a buzzing yellow light hanging from the ceiling. You groaned outloud, feeling groggy; an aching pain throbbed in your slumped neck and a sore bump on your scalp. 

‘Got a killer headache…’ 

You tried to pull your hands up to the bump to feel for a bruise, but fell flat with your arms tucked behind your back. You jerked them around, not realizing that they in fact were stuck together-- tied by rope, or some kind of fabric. 

“Thank god, you’re awake. Thought maybe I hit you too hard-- I don’t know what i’d do if that happened.” A familiar voice rang out in the musty, echoing room. 

“What…?” You croaked, trying to look up without facing the wrath of your headache the more light entered your eyes.

“Here, drink some water.” 

A bottle came in front of you, so close to your lips all you had to do was bend down to touch it. You did so without thinking, tasting the sandpaper of a tongue you were stuck with. As soon as the cool water touched your throat, you thought about potential poisoning. Who was this person bottle-feeding you water, why couldn’t you do it yourself?? 

You were too thirsty to care about the consequences, gulping it down as the bottle lifted higher to accommodate you. 

Letting out a pant, you sat back, trying to rub water off your lip with a shoulder shimmy. 

“Where am I? What’s going on--” It all started to come back to you, being in Elijah’s room, trespassing on private property, seeing the closet hoard of you. “Wait, please don’t report me, I promise it isn’t what you think it was…”

“Report you?” The masculine tone scoffed, a hand falling to your shoulder. “I was worried I’d never get a chance like this… you made it so easy, how’d you get in? The window?”

“...Yeah.” You sheepishly replied, looking up at your captor. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”

Oh shit. That was Elijah right in front of you. In the flesh, pretty pearly teeth grinning only inches away from your face as his hand rested on your left shoulder, gently massaging it.

“Is your head okay? I feel bad but.. I wasn’t thinking, could only think about how to keep you here.”

Keep you here? Oh no, does that mean the police are on their way??

“Now.. I don’t have to worry about sending people out to your apartment anymore.. No more security cameras, no more blackmail… just you.” He stroked the side of your cheek that was inflamed from falling against the floor. “Damn. I thought i’d have to go through the trouble of taking you in the middle of the night, I had just sent my driver out for my tools too- but, looks like that’s not even an issue anymore!”

Well, sounds like your fears about the cops was no where near the truth. But now, you were even more confused. Taking you? Stalking? Blackmail? It almost felt like you were listening to yourself talk for a second. 

Behind the dark glare covering his eyes, you could see Elijah’s trademark dimples, his pinkish lips covering the slight overbite he had, constantly showing off his front few teeth. You knew those downturned eyes were there somewhere, even with their shine dulled by the shadows of what looked to be a dark cellar around you. 

His hair was unkempt, thick, dark strands covering his ears and going so far to the base of his neck. Wow, you had never seen him look so scruffy, even when watching from outside, seeing him brush his teeth in shirtless pajamas. He looked worried, shirt untucked and pants wrinkled as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“And I’m sorry to say.. But don’t even think about trying to run away now. I made up my mind long ago, and if I find out that--”

“Urk, I wasn’t planning on it. I saw, the uh, dedication board. Or, shrine?”

At that, Elijah stopped. His baby blue eyes went wide for a moment, forgetting that was where he originally found you until now. 

You hid your head down in discomfort.  

“I have the same one…of you, in my apartment… in a box under my bed. There’s even a piece of hair from middleschool that I c..ut, from you.” You held back a nauseous gag at the admission. But here you were, this was your chance to prove how much you loved him, how much dedication you put towards understanding his every move, every like and dislike, the intricacies of his family history. “Do you know why I was in your room?” You asked, wondering if he already had seen your worship blog. 

Elijah took a step back, lowering to sit on a pulled out fold-up chair across from you. His knees touched yours, still dressed in his black slacks and matching loafers, rolled up sleeves on his cream-colored button up that showed he had taken liberties to get more comfortable for the night. 

“I’ll be honest I hadn’t contemplated that… just about how perfect of a chance it was, that you-- my uh, small, obsession since fifth grade.. Was here.” He looked down, a small red tint creeping from his cheeks to the rest of his face. He was bright crimson, like a kid again confessing to his crush behind the bleachers. “But you remember me?? From so long ago? I can’t… Its hard to imagine, i’ve been watching you for years and thought you had completely forgotten about me.”

“Are you kidding?” You watched Elijah rub his eyes, trying to hide his face behind his knuckles. “You’re all over the news, even if I wanted to avoid you. But I haven’t stopped following your every move since, I can’t remember. Every house change, new school, shopping trip with your mother… anytime I was free I dedicated it to watching you, or my--”

You cut yourself off, stepping one foot off into the deep end on a subject you desperately wanted kept hidden. 

“If I knew any better I’d say you sound like a bit of a stalker.” Elijah tried to hide his grin behind his hand, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “What were you going to say?”

“My…blog.” 

“Blog?” He parroted. 

“It’s a…. Dedication blog. To you.”

“Oh, like an obsessed fan?” He jeered, laughing with bright teeth as he braced his shaking from on his knee.  “Don’t tell me-- you snuck in here for content to your blog?”

“No-! Well, yes. But some of it was going in my private stash…” You pouted, knowing you’d never get that chance again now that you’ve been discovered. Your days of fawning were going to come to a close. 

“So you must be the one who keeps finding a way to get pictures when I never see any reporters around. By, breaking into my home.” 

“That sounds really bad.. But I promise I wasn’t going to try to steal, or hurt you!”

That only made him laugh harder.

“I can’t… can’t believe I never saw you..” He wheezed, face flushed as you sat rotting in embarrassment and shame. “I had drivers chase after you for hours when you disappeared-- but you were five steps behind me the entire time!”

Drivers… your brain clicked two and two together as he tried to stop from giggling while hunched over. 

“...Drivers?” You question. No way this is what yout thought it was.”So you’ve been spying on me?”

“Don’t sound so offended, little stalker,” He settled down, a permanent smile still on his mouth as he dragged the steel chair somehow closer. “ You’ve been hard to catch, but i’ve been keeping tabs on you, as unseemingly as it is. I couldn’t do it myself but I wanted to make sure you were, okay. Before it was safe to bring you home. Though I had nothing to fear about you forgetting me at all!”

You swallowed, mouth having gone back to a dry desert as you contemplated what this all meant. YOUR Elijah was spying on you in your home? Sending out underlings to watch and make sure you were safe? The man who you’d lay your life down for? You fantasized, imagining him at your window, you-- freshly out of the shower…

“What do you mean by home? You don’t mean.. Here, in the estate, right?”

Elijah observed you so fully, it made you nervous. He had never given someone this much attention in interviews, nonetheless in the photos and videos you managed to snap of him alone. And he was looking at you, with those eyes. 

You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Smelling his sandalwood with his knees pressing against yours, his finely ironed shirt toned against him-- right here, in the flesh. You always thought you’d be at a distance, never able to come in contact with him.. And now, you were tied up in his family’s wine cellar. 

“Of course my darling. Where else? I can’t possibly send you back to that dungeon of an apartment. And you,” He stood, intent on coming closer. “Came in so willingly, huh? Didn’t think you’d return my love so… earnestly.”

“W-well who said anything about staying?” You sputtered, looking at his eyes glower in an exceedingly dark fashion. “I mean…. You love me? I’d accepted I’d never be seen by you but… you’ve been watching, the entire time?”

He stood up from his chair with a slight creak, causing your neck to strain upwards to look at him. A small touch caressed the end of your chin, his finger smoothening as it lifted your head to meet his gaze. 

He hummed, Elijah’s eyes full of an expression you’ve never seen him wear before. Something in the mix of a sentimental possession, and a lover. But it was so tender, you couldn’t look away. It was so safe, so familiar. You recognized that look in the mirror, visible in your own eyes when you planted kisses on his printed photo taped to your vanity. 

“Haven’t been able to keep you off my mind since you plucked that leaf off of my spoiled head. Love doesn’t even begin to describe it. I need, you.” 

His gaze was so genuine, your eyes soothed by the glazed over grin he gave you, leaning down to hunch on his knees to be closer to you. 

“I…” You breathed, wondering if this was a dream. “I’ve wanted you to see me.. for so long. Is this real?” 

You stopped working. There was no chance that he had been watching you, wondering and waiting for you to recognize him, when you were longing for his attention, having convinced yourself long ago you’d only be able to possess him from a distance. 

Soft fingers that hadn’t worked a day in their lives creeped up your knees, Elijah’s face only inches away as his eyelids lowed, looking sultry as he watched you squirm. 

“I pray it’s not.” He exhaled. 

“...Well, I’m not staying tied up in this chair, no matter how much you beg. Though… I can’t say I’d mind staying with you. Being with you.. Here, together.”

“Good. It wasn’t really a matter of choice, anyway.” He grinned, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek. 

You involuntarily hummed in content, pressing closer to his lips as you arched out of the chair, longing to touch his warm body. He was kissing you; somebody get you out of these ropes before you jump the man. 

Elijah couldn’t help but grin like a maniac, drugged on the way you relished his touch and pressed your chest forward to him. He rushed kisses to your chin, bites to your ear and licks to your neck with a groan. 

But a sudden stop brought your blissfully closed eyes to an open. 

“I’m sorry… want you too much, it’s getting to the better of me.”

“I’m not sorry,” You mumble, hoping that if this was a dream, you wouldn’t ever wake up. “Please, don’t stop.. I’ve killed for this, don’t stop now.”

“You tempt me too much,” He chuckles, gripping the sides of your chair seat to stablize himself leering over you. “So lucky you were my little creepy stalker, and no one else’s. Wouldn’t be able to control myself otherwise.”

“Stalker, murderer of your old lovers… I have many names.” You joked, but the bitterness on your tongue remembering those placeholders you got rid of was sour. 

“Many talents, too.” Elijah’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the one that caused my fiances to dissapear? I wondered how they kept doing that,” He looked keenly, seeing right through your little ‘joke’. “Even I couldn’t shoo my mothers’ arranged partners away.”

You tried to look away, embarrassment showing on the way you bit your lips clean and your heartbeat wrapped. “I did it in your name….  I couldn’t stand them thinking they were worth being so close and casual with you! It was infuriating every time I saw it I-- I just  couldn’t take it anymore. Even if it meant I’d never have you.” 

Elijah buried himself in your hair, holding you tight. The squeeze was so personable, hungry and desperate to hold all of you.

 “You have me now, you have me completely. I want you-- what a favor you have done, and you hadn’t even known.”

It felt so good, praised for such hard and hateful work you carried out. Their bodies were mangled, your rage manifesting in the corpses buried under the old golf course near your dingy apartment complex-- and he was happy you did it. Oh, you wanted to hold him, to smell him fully. These binds were stopping you from caressing the lover, the dream you had fantasized holding you to sleep so often, spooning the jackets and dresshirts of his musk in replacement for comfort. 

Elijah still snickered in your ear, playing with the tips of your hair.

“But now, I have to see this blog. I’m too curious-- though I can’t say seeing it will help my small obsession for you. A stalking blog-- too cute.”

You were still so shameful of it, now that he brought it up. You didn’t want your soulmate to see the virtual shrine you had dedicated to him, your unseemly thoughts and hungry urges that were far too detailed and graphic to be shared with their perpetrator. But what choice did you have? He’d find it, one way or another. 

“F..fine. But you’d you atleast untie me now? My arms are getting sore.”

That seemed to cease his light-hearted expression, frowning against your skull as he inhaled the sweet scent of your hair. It was the same as he remembered, now a decade later. 

“You’re not gonna try to leave, are you?” He murmured, caressing pinching your ear with a light tone. But something dangerous was held behind it. It was frightening.. But oh, as if the possessiveness didn’t fuel how much more your insides craved him. 

“Do you think I’d really try to go anywhere? Not when you’re so accessible to me now.” You looked over. Elijah’s lashes looked so long up close, sweetly deadpanned eyes watching as if you were being tested, hunted. 

He seemed to find your answer appealing, getting up and pulling something out of his back pocket. Leaning down once more, you saw the switchblade bobbing between his hands, a pretty and simple hunting blade. He leaned over you, pressing it against the knot above your wrists. 

You focused on feeling for the blade as to not get cut, only for your attention to be pulled back to the spoiled one-percenters lips pressing yours directly. It was a shock, more than anything. You wished you had seen it coming, wish you had been better prepared to share your first kiss with your darling! 

Elijah left your mouth nowhere to run as he pressed up against you, fervidly ensnaring your lips between his.

You gladly accepted the pull away for a second kiss, leaning up as much as you could while hiding your desperation. He was so soft, lips gentle and big as they enveloped your bitten ones. 

“Sorry,” Elijah broke away slowly, not straying far. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” You watched his eyes stare wonders at your lips, fingers brushing against your trapped ones from behind as the task at hand was forgotten. 

“Me too.” You uttered, pulling forward to kiss him again with an open, insatiable mouth. 

[hyunniesgirl]

Can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Lee know x reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Summary: Lee Minho is unreachable, someone you can only just dream of being with. Until one day, you enter the wrong door at a party and ends up with him inviting you to sit on his lap.

Part 2

THIS CONTENT IS +18 ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: corruption kink, protected piv, fingering, Minho is kinda possessive.

You're okay with not being popular, it's not like you'll be like that forever, it's just college and in a few years everything will be forgotten so you just keep living your life, going to your classes and hanging out with your best friend.

The only time you ever wish you were popular, though, is when you see him. Lee Minho. The guy of your dreams. He's vice president of the greatest fraternity on campus, so everyone knows him.

Lee Minho is someone mysterious, no one knows much about him other than that he changes girlfriends faster than he changes clothes. So more than half of the girls in this university already had their heart broken by him.

That doesn't make you like him less though, it's not like something will ever happen between you two so a little crush on him is not something to worry about, even more so when he doesn't even know about your existence.

Your best friend, Jihyo is the opposite of you, she likes partying and she always tries to drag you to one of her nights out. That's how you ended up in the situation you're in right now. Alone in the kitchen of a frat house, listening to a drunk guy teaching you about your own major, while sipping on a drink you're not even sure about the contents.

You watch as a group of people play beer pong on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, everyone is sweating and there's alcohol being spilled all over the place. You're at a safe distance but you pity the person who's going to clean this up later on.

You have no idea where Jihyo went, she told you she was going to the bathroom half an hour ago and never came back. You're tired of hearing this guy too, he's talking about first year contents when you're already in your third year.

“That's so interesting”, you smile at him, “but I have to go find my friend now”, you don't let him say a word, quickly sneaking away from the kitchen.

You look around, trying to find your best friend, but she's nowhere to be seen. Maybe she's on the second floor, you ask people and they tell you exactly where the bathroom is. However, you shouldn't be so quick as to trust drunk people.

Because when you open the door people pointed out as the bathroom, you find a room with red lights brightening the dark space.

There's a bed in the middle of the room and in that bed there's a couple and that couple happens to be Lee Minho and someone you have no idea who it is. They are luckily not in a compromising position, not making out or something worse. She's just sitting on his lap, having her giggles stopped by the bright light that comes from the door when you open it.

Your eyes grow wide when Minho looks at you with his fierce unfriendly eyes.

“Hm- I'm- sorry, I thought this was the bathroom”, you smile sheepishly, fidgeting on your feet.

Minho looks at you up and down and you swear you can see a smirk forming on his lips, but you're not sure since the light is not great.

“I guess the sign with my name on the wall is not very visible”, he points out dryly, making your face turn red. Great, that's great. Nice way to be humiliated by your crush, y/n.

“I apologize, I really didn't see it”, you say again. You should already have gotten out of there but for some reason it seems that your feet are stuck on the ground.

“Honey, why don't you go downstairs, I'll talk to you later”, Minho says to the girl on his lap, making her groan in frustration. She gets up, angrily walking past you. “You should close the door if you're going to stay”, he tells you and your feet finally move just enough to be able to close the door with you still inside.

“Do you know where the bathroom is?” You ask like an idiot.

“I live here”, he says obviously, “but I don't think you're still looking for the bathroom”, he grins, seeing you lick your lips. “Why don't you come and take a seat?”

Your legs move on it's own once more, giving slow unsure steps in his direction. You sit on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully as he leans back, supporting his upper body on his hands, arms spread on the mattress.

He stares at you, surprised. Minho chuckles, shaking his head.

“That's not what I was talking about”, he tells you, landing his hand on his thigh and tapping there. “Why don't you try sitting here?” He asks.

You feel your whole body turning hot, why is he asking for you to sit on his lap?

“I-I should get going”, you stand up fast, but before you can walk away he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure that's what you want?” Minho tilts his head, waiting for your answer.

No, that's not what you want. You really, really want to sit on his lap and let him do anything he wants with you. So you give in to your desires, stepping closer to him and bending down to sit on his thigh.

He bites on his bottom lip, watching you fidgeting and trying to get comfortable. By the way you're stiff, it's obvious you have never done this before and that gets him excited.

He corrects his posture, sitting with his chest close to you. One of his hands lands on your left thigh and the other goes to your waist.

Minho doesn't need to waste another second to find out that he likes you. You're just his type, shy and reserved, someone who he can corrupt. Someone who can make him go absolutely crazy.

“You see, I see the way you look at me”, he says, caressing your back with the hand he had on your waist. “Jihyo is not very quiet and every time she catches my attention you're there and every time I look at you, you're looking at me”, he says, like he's saying something you don't know. “After some time I just came to the conclusion that you may like me. Am I right about that?”

You nod automatically, like you're obligated to tell him the truth. Maybe your brain just doesn't work when you're near him.

“Hmm”, Minho hums, “tell me then, what can you do for me?”

“W-what do you mean?” You manage to ask, getting goosebumps with every touch of his.

“I mean to say, why should I choose you? I have a great number of options”, he smirks. He's teasing now, even though he's already set on making you his, he just wants to hear your answer.

You have so many things to use at your advantage, pretty lips that he wants to kiss, soft skin that he wants to leave marks all over and the sweetest voice that he wants to hear crying his name while he fucks you so deeply you'll beg him to keep going.

“Anything”, you gulp, “you can do anything you want with me, I'm entirely yours”, and that is better than anything else he could hear. That is the last straw.

Minho puts his hand behind your neck, pulling you to him and kissing you in a hungry, hot kiss. He grabs your hair with the other hand, pulling a handful and making you groan with the sudden pain but it's still so good. His tongue brushes on your lips, entering your mouth and slightly caressing yours. The way he's grabbing you is just too much, you feel like you're going to explode at any moment.

Minho lets go of you for a moment just to take his shirt off, showing you his bare chest. He gets back on grabbing you, pressing you against his body. You're not sure if this is right but it definitely doesn't feel wrong.

You take your crop top off, throw it on the floor and pray that Jihyo will forgive you for doing that with her clothes. Wrapping your arms around Minho's neck, you kiss him again, feeling his bulge beneath you.

He sneaks a hand down your stomach, unbuttoning your jeans and pushing your panties to the side as soon as he manages to reach your soaking cunt.

Minho presses a finger on your clit, you stop the kiss just to gasp and he pulls away, staring at you while he inserts a finger between your folds.

“Has anyone ever fingered you?” He whispers, listening to your low moans, you're cute trying to hold back.

You open your eyes to look at him, shaking your head. That's beautiful, he gets even more excited to know he's the first one giving you pleasure like that.

“And what about sex, have you had it before?” He asks one more question, pushing his finger in and out of you.

“A-a few times”, you struggle to say, feeling your cheeks hot.

“That's good, virgins aren't really my thing”, he smirks, “then, you can handle one more finger, right?” He asks, not waiting for your answer and pushing in another finger inside of you.

“Oh”, it's the only sound you can make. You hold him harder, with your mind dizzy. “It's too much”, you sob, feeling the stretch, it burns a bit but it's so good.

“Oh, Kitten”, he pouts. “How are you supposed to handle my cock if you can't handle two fingers? I'm bigger than that”, he smirks while saying that.

“I can do it, I can”, you nod frantically, too drunk on the pleasure of his fingers inside you to think straight.

“I'm glad you're confident”, he takes his fingers out of you and takes them to his mouth, liking every drop of your juice. “Your taste might be my new favorite”

He helps you get up, your legs are weak even though you didn't cum. Minho helps you lie on the bed, pulling your jeans down, trailing kisses down your legs while dragging out the fabric.

“You are pretty”, he mutters, taking off his pants and underwear, crawling back to stay on top of you, kissing your chest and your collarbone, biting on the skin and leaving a couple of hickeys there. Minho goes down your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples, kneading at the other with his hand. He's humping on your leg, rubbing his hard cock on your thigh.

His touch makes you feel like you're on fire, tingling sensations spreading all over your body. His kisses leave you so turned on, you don't think you ever felt this horny.

“Kitten”, he calls you, making you blush. It's crazy to think that even though you two are naked in front of each other, him calling you a pet name is what makes you flustered.

Minho gives you a peck on the lips, leaning over to the bedside table to look for a condom. He opens the package with his teeth, spitting the piece of plastic and stroking his cock on hand.

He looks so good, standing on his knees in between your legs, eyes closed feeling his fist caressing him.

“Let me do it”, you take the courage to say, sitting and taking the package out of his mouth into your hands. Minho watches you attentively as you grab the base of his cock, sliding the condom down his length.

“Fuck”, he murmurs, grabbing your face on his hands and kissing you so hard you can taste blood, not sure from which of you.

Minho positions himself in your entrance, looking at you to wait for your consent and when you nod he pushes in. You wrap your legs around his hips, trying to bring him closer even though it hurts a bit, it's so good you think you will go crazy.

“M-minho”, you moan, throwing your arms around his waist, digging your nails on his skin.

“Shit, you're perfect”, he starts moving, each trust making you moan louder. Your walls are squeezing him so deliciously that he can cum at any moment. His cock feels so good, reaching all the places you didn't even know existed.

Minho kisses you, fucking into you so fast you can barely breath. You never thought he could be even more beautiful, hair stuck on his sweaty forehead, eyes staring intensely at yours, bottom lip stuck between his teeth while he fucks you senseless. He leans closer, kissing your neck, leaving a long and a bit painful mark there.

“You're mine now”, he smiles shakily, clearly close to his release. You can feel your orgasm approaching too, cumming and tightening your legs around his hips, making his release follow yours.

Minho gives you a kiss before falling to your side, breathing heavily accompanied by you. You don't know what to say and you're scared he'll pretend this was nothing so you get up, collecting your things, not waiting for him to kick you out.

“What are you doing?” He asks, scowling.

“Getting dressed so I can get out”, you explain naively, being watched by him like you're the prey and he is the predator.

“What part of “you're mine now”, you didn't understand?” He asks, laying down with an arm beneath his head and the other stretched to the side of the bed, waiting for you to lie there. “Come back here, I'm not even nearly done with you”, he smirks, watching you blush again.

You drop the clothes you have collected, crawling back on the bed and snuggling close to him. Minho pulls you closer, turning to you and wrapping his free arm around your waist.

“I'll tell you what we're gonna do”, he explains and you nod, “I'm going to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name and after that I'll take you out to dinner”

Lee Know presses his body on yours, showing you that his cock is already hardening again and you giggle, blushing once more.

Never have you felt so happy to trust drunk people's instructions.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

[odoraful]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈����𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓

wriothesley has been hesitant to tell you about his past, afraid that it will tarnish your view of him. reconciling with this is no easy task, but he has you by his side to guide him

content: wriothesley x gn!reader; established relationship; 'baby' pet name; reader and wriothesley live together; nightmare sequence; mentions of blood; spoilers to wrio story quest!; reader doesn't know the full truth of wriothesley's past; wriothesley worried about how good of a partner he is :( ; hurt/comfort; reverse comfort; 4k words

a/n: i just wanna gently hold wriothesley and tell him that he's doing so well <3 also i give full credit to critical role and the wonderful talisen jaffe for the quote "pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Before opening his eyes, Wriothesley smelled iron. Pungent and pervasive. It filled his nostrils and sunk unpleasantly in his churning stomach. He knew he was lying on his back on a cold, hard surface, but that was about as much information he was certain about. Where he was or how he ended up in this state escaped him.

He tested his other senses. Every swallow of saliva went down like sand in his throat. His fingers were limp as he tried squeezing them into fists, the strength siphoned out of him. Slowly regaining some sense of himself again, he could finally label what the scent was. Blood.

At that realisation, he peeled opened his eyes, dreading the scene he would find himself in. A scene he knew that would be painfully similar to memories he quashed a long time ago. He grimly thought whether the blood would be trailing from his hands, or already dried up beneath him, a red dye stained on the floorboards. The lights above accosted him, dazzling his vision. Fontainian households were always so bright, and it didn’t help that the walls of them were white too. But, even then, there were always nooks and crannies shrouded in darkness. Wriothesley found that the more glittering lights there were, the darker the shadows they casted.

He sat up with a groan, his body the weight of bricks. Looking around, there was no such scene he imagined before him. The room he was in was… ordinary. Pristine white walls lined with book shelves against spotless light timber flooring. A fireplace was tucked between two shelves, where the hearth held blackened remnants of burned wood. Wriothesley was situated on the floor between the fireplace and two brown cushioned sofas facing each other separated by a low table. He swore there were other furnishings in the room, but for some reason he couldn’t focus on them. The edges of his vision blurred and he couldn’t make out any other details besides what was most salient.

It wasn’t necessary though.

He knew where he was.

He was almost even in the exact spot they found him slumped in when he was a boy. Back rested against a bookshelf, hollow eyes gazing into the distance. The officers were unable to hide the pure shock on their faces at the grisly tableau in front of them.

Bile rose in Wriothesley’s throat. Despite there being no evidence of violence, the scent of blood lingered in the air, filling his lungs. He went to stand, the movement ungraceful and slow, as if he were swimming in the ocean with thick layers of clothing on. Lying on the floor wouldn’t do well for his nausea. He walked towards to sofa to sit and assess this situation. Sinking into the cushions, he rubbed his temples with his hands.

He thought this house had long since been torn down. How had he been taken back to his old home? His mind sharply retracted those words. No, he wouldn’t call it that. Home was a place of safety and love, but the place he grew up in was built on a foundation of lies and malice. The only small glimmer of home he could recall was his bonds with his siblings.

“█████.”

A voice whispered from just beside his ear, as if speaking a secret.

Wriothesley’s skin prickled. His head snapped around, but he was only met with empty space.

Impossible, he thought. No one who should know that name. He buried it a long time ago when he was handcuffed to the bed in that emergency ward. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him. Digging up memories of his past.

“█████, where did you go?”

This time, a different, more louder voice came from the opposite direction. Wriothesley could make out its qualities—young and wistful. It was that of a child.

Wriothesley was not often scared. When someone like him had seen both the worst and best of what life had to offer, he was seldom caught off guard. Even backed into a corner, there was always a way out for him. A few carefully chosen words was his preferred method, but now, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Hearing that name being said aloud chilled him to his bones. The colour drew from his face, skin turning ghast-like. He was terrified.

“You left without saying goodbye.”

A young girl sniffled, sounding on the verge of tears. Wriothesley scanned the room frantically, trying to find the source of the voices.

“Why did you leave us?”

A young boy this time. Familiarity clawed at the back of Wriothesley’s mind. His eyes bulged in horror.

“█████, we miss you.”

“You said we would play together.”

“They took some of us away.”

“█████, will you ever come back?”

Wriothesley covered his ears, but it did little to quiet the ceaseless voices. Multiple of them spoke at once, rising in urgency, surging around him. Overlapping and defeaning, burrowing into his skull no matter how hard he squeezed and squeezed his ears shut. He was backed into a corner with no way out. He screamed in his head, roaring in agony. He couldn’t stay here, he needed out.

Hearing the pleading of his own mind, Wriothesley jolted awake.

Like a conductor ending a symphony with the close of their hand, the cacophony of voices abruptly stopped.

Void-like silence met him in the waking world.

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He felt his heart lodged in his throat, as if he had been pushed off the tallest point of the Palais Mermonia. Steadying his shallow breathing, he pushed his back further into the bedsheets, trying to ground himself.

Just a dream, just a dream. He repeated, sighing loudly. His bedroom had never been a more welcome sight as he sat up, careful not to awake his resting partner. At least, that’s where you should have been. There was no weight of your body beside him. He swept a hand over the bed, and made contact only with the sheets and crumpled quilt blanket.

Still reeling from the terrors of his dream, Wriothesley’s mind drew the worse conclusions. Had you been taken? Had you left him? Panicked, he began to call out your name. His voice was hoarse, but he was glad he could speak after being robbed of it in his dream.

A triangle of yellow light cut into the darkness of the room as the door cracked opened. Relief flooded him seeing you standing there, wrapped in a fluffy robe, hair ruffled.

“Baby, is everything alright?” You asked softly, approaching the bed.

Wriothesley’s chest rose and fell in quick intervals. His body arched over like a crooked branch, shivering ever so slightly. Alarms blared inside you. You had never seen him in this state before.

“I- I thought you had gone somewhere,” he said, voice quavering.

The mattress dipped as you sat atop, kneeling beside him. “I didn’t leave.” You lay a hand on him, watching closely at his expression with a furrowed brow. “I’m here, I’m here,” you soothed gently, rubbing small circles into his shoulder.

He gave into your touch, his posture easing. Seeing him slowly relax, you raised your hands to cradle his face. Warmth radiated through him, expelling whatever anxieties had possessed him. His breath shuddered. Immediately, he nuzzled into your touch, burying his face in the faint scent of soap and lilies. He could stay here forever. It would be all he needed to revitalise his senses and keep him alive. He covered one of your hands with his own, encompassing it completely. His calloused fingers slid between yours—a sensation that contrasted against the softness of his lips as he kissed the inside of your palm. A feather-like touch that caused the butterflies in your stomach to flutter.

“I was just in the bathroom.” You reassured him. Wriothesley hummed in response. “Did something happen?”

He hesitated, wondering how much he should tell you.

“I just had a nightmare.” His voice was muffled, lips grazing your skin as he spoke. “It was nothing, really.”

You gently turned his head towards yours, prompting him to focus on you. “It doesn’t seem like nothing to me.”

His heart stung at the pure concern on your face. Different from the times when you tended to him when he injured himself whilst boxing, or when you saw him passed out at his desk from his persistent workload. There was desperation layered in your knitted brows and parted lips.

“Let me get you a glass of water.” You said, caressing his face. Hints of stubble brushed under the pads of your thumbs. “You’ll feel a little better after being hydrated.”

Coldness returned to his cheeks as you pulled away. You couldn’t even turn around before Wriothesley’s hands were on you once again. He snaked his arms around your waist, embracing you tightly.

“Don’t go.” He rasped. “Please, stay with me.”

His pleading tugged at your heartstrings. As much as you wanted to stay in his arms, you could tell from his voice just how dry his throat was. “I won’t be far from you. I’ll be gone only for a moment.” You kissed his forehead, sealing your promise.

You waited until he loosened his hold on you (albeit begrudgingly), and hurried out of the room to fetch some water. Wriothesley leaned against the bedhead. His head was clearer now, and he tuned his hearing to the far-away whir of machinery in the Fortress.

He was glad to have a shared room with you away from his working environment. This was an entirely new floor he had extended above his office. The design of which began after he had seen you curled up in sleep on one of his chairs, waiting for him to finish his duties for the day. Resting somewhere backgrounded by piles of administrative paperwork didn’t make for the most relaxing setting. And so, he swiftly drafted plans to create private quarters for the two of you.

After a long day, he would head straight upstairs to meet you. You’d be there snuggled on the lounge with a novel, and his footfalls would be enough for you to abandon your book on the table and rush over to the door. Now, while the sun could not be seen in the stronghold beneath the waves, it found its place with you. In the way your smile beamed and eyes twinkled as you greeted him. You were so, so bright, and yet he could never look away. At first, it almost startled him how easy you gave your love to him. There was no ulterior motive with you. You loved him wholly.

He sadly wondered how quickly your glimmer would fade if he revealed parts of him that had never seen the light.

The tapping of your slippers approached the door, and you entered with a glass and pitcher of water. Placing them both on the bedside table, you poured water into the glass and handed it to him. Wriothesley didn’t realise how parched he was until he took the first sip. Eagerly chugging the rest down, he you in the corner of his eye, chewing on your bottom lip. You were on the cusp of saying something.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, taking the empty glass from his hands and putting it to the side.

“Your dream that is…” You faltered through your words. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you seemed upset when you woke up.”

More than upset, you thought to yourself, afraid.

Wriothesley reached out for you wrist. You let him guide you into bed, slipping under the blankets. He pulled you in closer, arm draped around your waist, until your bodies were flush with each other. Your expectant gaze fell on him. He plastered on an assuring smile, but couldn’t quite draw the corners of his lips up to reach his eyes.

“I was only a bit shaken,” he replied, keeping his tone light. “It had things relating to my past. My subconscious must have it out for me for not letting me get a good night’s rest.” Hopefully that was enough to mollify the true contents of his dream.

You toyed with the edge of the blanket. Wriothesley’s past was something he didn’t divulge in too much detail. Even after being together for some time, all you knew was that his childhood was a difficult time, and he had to run away from his foster parents home. You had a good sense that he no longer wished to recall these events from the way he was quick to brush off the topic. It was hard for you to balance between wanting to know more, and also respecting his privacy.

“You know that you can tell me about anything that’s bothering you, right?”

Your eyes never left his, watching the way they brimmed with fondness as he answered.

“Of course I know that baby, it’s just that…” His eyes casted downwards.

In his line of work, keeping up a poker-face meant keeping things under control. However, with you, he never hid his true emotions, and you saw conflict dance across his features.

“I’m worried it might change how you see me,” he confessed, fidgeting with his fingers as if he were itching to move.

“Wriothesley,” you covered a hand over his, halting his movement, “nothing will make me change the way I see you now. You aren’t the same person as you were back when you were young.��

Those words settled in his mind, prodding at the uncertainties he had about opening up. You continued,

“You can share anything about your past with me. And, what is it they say…” You tried to recall a line you had read recently. “A burden shared is a burden halved?”

He couldn’t fight back a smile, teeth peeking out from beneath his lips. “Putting those philosophical books you’re reading to use?”

“Actually, it’s a collection of poetry from Mondstadt.” You corrected, pursing your lips smugly.

He breathed a laugh, spirits lightening at how endearing his partner was.

From the day he selected a new name for himself, he chose to begin anew. Although he knew that nothing in his past constituted any part of his life now, it still clung to him. A fog clouding his mind during moments of solitude, drawing out doubts that stumbled into the open. If he did tell you the full truth, would you see him as nothing more than someone raised in a loveless place? Who was pushed to do what many considered unthinkable? Running a hand through his hair, he exhaled slowly—ruminating.

You calmly awaited his next words, knowing that you would accept both if he chose to tell you or not.

Wriothesley spoke again,

“I mentioned to you before that I didn’t have the most… peaceful childhood.”

You nodded, grim at the thought of what those adults had done to those innocent children. “Mmm, you told me about your foster parents, and how you ran away from them.”

“Yes, but that’s not the whole truth.”

Pausing, he steeled himself. He caught on a thread that had long since been loose and began to unravel his past.

“After I escaped, I couldn’t shake off the guilt of abandoning my siblings, but there was also no way I could stay in that household after what I had learned.”

He recounted the story in the same way one would read aloud an article published by The Steambird. So separated from his past that he had little inflection in his tone. Even so, you saw a flare of emotion in Wriothesley’s eyes.

“So, I tried to keep myself alive and tried to get stronger, so that I could return and protect them.”

“Archons,” he bowed his head, dark hair falling over his brows, “I don’t even know how much time passed out there, everything seemed to blend together.”

You felt an ache in your chest, like someone had tightly gripped your heart. “I can’t imagine how tough it must have been.” Picturing a younger Wriothesley in your head, frightened and alone, made you shiver.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “It was.” He returned a sad smile to you, though regret laced his words. “I wouldn’t wish that life for anybody, but I did learn a lot.”

“I snuck back into the house after a while of being on the streets. I-“ He rubbed his temple with his free hand, unable to find the right words. “One of my siblings told me that while I was gone, a few of them had been… adopted into other families.”

Your skin turned cold, knowing exactly what that meant.

“I-I think I heard their voices in my dream.” His voice wavered, face scrunching up as he remembered those ghostly voices in that empty room. “They were asking why I left them there, wondering where I was.”

You squeezed his hand. “But you did return. You swore that you would come back for them and you did,” you asserted.

Shaking his head, he turned his hand over to interlock your fingers with his. “Perhaps I was too late.”

“I found my foster parents sitting happily in the drawing room, and suddenly, I felt so, so angry.” His expression turned sombre, staring down at the blanket covering you two. “At them, at myself, at the world, and something snapped in me and I did the only thing I felt I could do in that moment.”

A heaviness tugged down on his chest as if in protest at the continuation of his sentence. But, there would be no hiding it now. He swallowed thickly.

“I killed them.”

The words left his lips in a whisper, and hung in the space between you.

You stilled. The faint beating of your heart could be felt between your hand in his.

Sensing your stiffness, Wriothesley forced himself to look at you, searching your face in the hopes of finding any kind of reaction. He half expected you to pull away in terror. Disillusioned at the fact that your partner was a murderer. But, he found no such revulsion. Instead, your eyes glossy with tears captured a sadness so sincere and profound that his heart shattered into pieces, piercing him from the inside out.

“It was a long time ago.” With every word he spoke, the shards seemed to dig deeper. “And I definitely don’t associate myself with that person anymore.”

“But, I understand if this changes how you see me. If you need time away-”

“Don’t say that,” you interrupted, shaking your head fervently.

You blinked, tears lining your lower lashes. The sight of your partner blurred slightly in your vision, his face contorted in pain. You understood. The distance he wanted to put between you was merely a façade. Buried beneath it was a wordless plea for you to stay. He had bared everything to you, and you would not let him hurt by himself any longer.

“It doesn’t change how I feel towards you.” Determination rose in your cracked voice. “You were so young. No child should ever be placed in a position like that.”

Surely, there must be some part of him that agreed. Some part that would allow forgiveness. Wriothesley’s gaze flicked between your eyes, lost in your expression, as was you in his. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

“I-I can’t be the one to say whether it was the right thing to do,” you continued, “but what I do know is that you were just a child who needed to survive and wanted to protect those you cared about.”

How many people had treated him with kindness as a child? It upset you to think of all the adults that turned their backs on him. Reducing his character to only what they saw on a case report. Likely considering him to be nothing more than a psychopath. Your pulse thumped in your ears at the injustice of it.

“You are not who you were in the past.” You said slowly, enunciating every word. “Pain doesn’t make people, Wriothesley. It’s love that makes people.”

His expression melted softly. The creases between his brows smoothing.

“And I know that you love and care so strongly, you’ve shown me that every single day.”

Icy blue eyes held so much affection as he stared back at you—transfixed. Now more than ever did he believe you were the sun to him. Basking in your warmth, feeling the comfort of it tingle his skin. What you had said to him had begun to sink in. However, while he couldn’t refute your words, the mindset he had formed could not be altered in a single moment. Perhaps he would not completely believe your words now, but that was alright. You would be there by his side every day to remind him.

Clearing his throat, Wriothesley tested out if his voice was still fit to speak. Though this room was private to the two of you, he spoke quietly, as if he craved only your attention.

“When I was serving my sentence here, I always dreamed about what my new home would be."

He recalled the confinement of his cell, and how his mind would drift from counting the bolts in the metal wall to imagining a new life for himself. Wanting a place that was safe and people he felt at peace with felt like a mirage to him. However, if he could go back in time and speak to his younger self in that cell, he would tell him that things would turn out alright. The journey would not be without difficulties, but he would finally be in a place where he no longer had to look over his shoulder, fearing for his safety. And, he would be with someone who would be proud to call him their love.

“I think I found it here, with you.”

He took the chance to close the distance between you two. His forehead rested against yours. You closed your eyes.

“I love you, Wriothesley,” you whispered, instinctively.

His breath caught in his throat. How fortunate he was to have you in his life. Not only to receive your endless love, but to learn just how capable of loving he is.

He whispered back in reply, his breath gently fanning across your cheeks. “I love you too.”

Neither of you broke away, staying in this position for a moment. Everything had been untangled before you, and a odd mixture of both sorrow and solace stirred inside you. Sorrow at listening to what Wriothesley had gone through as a boy, and solace at how tender the man before you was, his hair tickling against your forehead.

You continued to speak softly to each other for a while longer. The conversation floated from his time at the Fortress to how he became its administrator. As he spoke, the accuracy of the quote you shared before was confirmed in the inexplicable lightness he felt in his chest. A burden shared is a burden halved, he recited to himself.

Time drew on, and you both sensed that if you didn’t sleep now, you’d be up until the Fortress’ inmates began their morning shifts. Curling up beside each other, you asked to play big spoon this time so he could fall asleep easier. Though he was taller in stature to you, you insisted on it. If it were a different day, he probably would have put up a greater fight, but there was little argument in him now at the chance of being wrapped up in your arms. He was lulled to rest by your rhythmic inhales and exhales. The night quietened, and no more voices followed him in slumber.

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post a/n: thank you for making it to the hidden easter egg author note haha, i appreciate you greatly, and i hope it was an enjoyable read!!! 🥺 i just wanted to yap about my thought process writing this piece. you definitely don't have to read all this, it's primarily for my own notetaking! <3

i felt like this was probably one of the hardest pieces i've written so far (?) i found it tough to build up that tension of reader not knowing wriothesley's full past and him still grappling with his actions as a young boy, and even what that dialogue would look like! i had to step away and come back a few times just so i could look at this with a fresh pair of eyes. it may not be perfect but i'm glad to have finished this! :')

[sleepyangelkami]

hey, I want to request a long one shot about ellie x cheerleader!reader, but ellie is like a type of emo? idk, she just use very dark clothes, accessories and she's grumpy, meanwhile the reader is the opposite, she is popular and social (she's not mean). strangers to very close friends (also about the social rejection that Ellie had). and it ends with rough smut (lmao sorry, I'm begging)

FUCK THE CHEERLEADERS e.williams

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 7.8K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - for as long as ellie's known she's hated just about everything and everyone. she hated the school she went to and the people in it. and she hated those prissy cheerleaders. what happens when one of them starts changing her mind?

 ☆ WARNINGS - slight abby anderson x reader (briefly mentioned), smut, slowburn, dom!ellie, sub!reader, mean!ellie, manhandling, fingering (r. receiving), oral (e. receiving), scissoring, squirting, rough sex, slight loser!ellie, praise kink, overstimulation, dirty talk (mmm), jealousy sex, slight innocent!reader?, swearing, smoking, getting high, lowk bullying, ellie is an abby!hater (i'm sorry.), homophobia, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

ellie williams hated just about everything in the world, it seemed. it was as if a scowl had been engraved on her brows as she walked through the halls of the school. she hated a lot of things, she hated this school. but more importantly, those damn cliches. those jocks and their stupid cheerleaders hanging underneath their arms, it made ellie sick, it made her scowl deepen.

it wasn't unusual for ellie to be clad in her black beanie, black hoodie and black ripped jeans. what could she say? she liked black. with her sketchbook sitting underneath her arm and her backpack hanging from one shoulder, she managed to make her way towards the east end of the school, where her ugly red locker lay. "why the long face?"

the voice had belonged to dina woodward who stood next to jesse (does this man have a last name?) they were both hand in hand next to ellie's locker. the three had lockers next to one another, had since freshman year. the two may have been the only two people ellie tolerated at all. they were her best friends. even so, she found herself scowling at the way their hands were intertwined.

"stupid fucking cheerleaders." already, jesse was rolling his eyes while the girl forced her locker open, this wasn't the first time he's heard that. "thinkin' they run the school, give me a break with their fucking pom poms and the skirts up their asses―"

"we get it ellie." jesse rolled his eyes, shutting his locker door. "what'd they do this time?"

ellie hated the jocks enough but she knew that at least they took pride in being assholes. but the cheerleaders? they walked around school with no consequences, wearing a sugar coated smile that made them look like nothing short of angels. they hid behind the facade of being good people. at least the jocks could admit they were dickheads. the cheerleaders pretended to be something they weren't. and for some reason, it made ellie hate them even more. "what do they ever do." she mumbled. "'here's lessie williams on!' 'draw anything new today williams!' 'let us see inside your sketchbook williams!'" she fawned a high pitch voice. "Like god! it was freshman year can't anyone get over it!"

dina and jesse were conscious of the couple people that had turned their heads to look at them but they knew that one sharp glare from ellie and they'd turn away again.

you see, in freshman year nobody really knew ellie. sure, they knew her but they didn't know her. she was quiet, always sat in the back of the classroom, always scribbling something down on a piece of paper or in her sketchbook. the one thing that brought her joy, the one thing she actually enjoyed doing was drawing.

and they ripped it away from her.

stupid stephanie meadows, who, in all her glory, decided to rip the sketchbook out of her hands and show the rest of the cheerleaders what the girl had been drawing. she had meant it as harmless teasing, ellie was sure. but the girl just so happened to be drawing some... female anatomy.

then birthed the name lessie williams.

she hated those damned cheerleaders ever since.

"i'm really sorry, ellie." jesse wore a sympathetic look as his brows furrowed lightly. there really wasn't anything they could do. they would stand up for her but that'd only drag them down. ellie understood this, she didn't expect anything from them. "that sucks."

but ellie didn't respond to his sympathy or his pity, merely slamming the locker door shut. "man, fuck the cheerleaders." her infamous catchphrase. she wore it out, used it every single time those damned cheerleaders were around. every time, there was venom laced in her voice. she didn't just hate them, she loathed them entirely.

but as soon as the venomous words slipped from her mouth, there was a sound of honey laughter that invaded her ears. "hi, dina!" there you stood, a sweet smile attached to your lips as you passed the three. you had two maybe three folders tucked in your arms, light purples and pinks with your name in big writing. y/n l/n.

"hi, y/n." it was merely a greeting in passing but ellie's blood boiled. her eyes fell on your outfit. your cheerleader outfit. the outfit was black and white, long sleeved but tight, showing off all of your curves and giving you all the attention that you didn't want. your skirt was short, too short, flimsy material showing ellie all that she shouldn't see. you had a light pink bow sitting at the top of your half up half down ponytail, curled hair falling behind your back. the colour of the bow matched your cheer leading shoes which were white but had pink stripes through them along with your baby pink leg warmers. you were the only cheerleader with a bit of colour.

you left ellie's sight as soon as you came, she turned to dina with a look of poison in her eye. "what? are you guys friends now? you gonna join the cheer squad?"

jesse took a step back, muttering something about not getting involved. he was well aware of what happened last time. ellie's wrath was not something you wanted to get involved with. "no, ellie, i'm not going to join the cheer squad." dina was rolling her eyes over the stupid encounter. "she happens to sit next to me in biology and i was saying hello."

"yeah, to y/n fucking l/n." everyone knew who you were, the prissy cheerleader who always wore smiles for everyone she met. often times being tucked under the arm of the captain of the girl's soccer team, abby anderson.

dina wasn't having it. "she's never actually said anything to you, ellie, she's never even been there when it happened and i'm sure if she was, she'd say something about it. she's really nice once you give her a shot."

ellie could have laughed in dina's face. "you're kidding." she was a cheerleader. "they're the same, every single one of them." and could you blame the girl for being so defensive? after all, it was her that got the horrid bullying and harrasment for so many years, not dina, not jesse, ellie. they didn't know what it was like to be in that ring of fire, they hadn't the slightest idea. "you know what, fuck this, i'm going to class."

dina was rolling her eyes. "ellie!" but the girl didn't turn around, holding her bag and her sketchbook close. "ellie, c'mon, don't be like this!" but she never spared her a glance.

jesse puffed out a breath. "just leave her." he mumbled to the girl next to him. "she'll be back."

and she was back. she was back before lunchtime. you see, that was the thing about having little to no friends. for ellie, dina and jesse, it didn't matter what was going on. whether dina was arguing with ellie, whether jesse and ellie were in a scuffle, whether dina and jesse were on their hundredth break. truth was, they only really had eachother. so, no matter what was happening, their lunch times were spent together at their separate round table in the cafeteria.

ellie was picking at her food when she saw her again. when she saw you.

you were walking up to their table sort of nervously, toying with your sleeves. ellie's expression immediately faltered. "is she walking over here?" dina and jesse looked up, glancing to you who had so many eyes on you. ellie could see the table of jocks and cheerleaders all staring at you, they simply couldn't take their eyes away. "she better not be fucking walking over here, she's not sitting―"

"ellie." dina whispered harshly as she shoved her foot forward, hitting ellie square in the calf. she winced, holding in the pained cringe.

"uhm, hi." you glanced back to the group of cheerleaders that were all staring. sometimes, you wished to be invisible, it was like there were always people watching. you felt like an actor on a stage and constantly having an audience. "dina, i was wondering if i could talk to you."

when you'd uttered the words, you sort of assumed dina would get up and walk with you. at least you hoped she would. you got the feeling that her friend didn't like you, the death stares she was throwing you, the glares that were burning into your head. not that you understood, though, you didn't even know her name.

"yeah, sure." she shoved to the side, allowing room for you to sit down. you awkwardly looked at the spot between her and her brunette friend wearing a black hat. the girl had looked away since you brought yourself over to the table. "guys this is y/n." she introduced as if they hadn't known who you were anyway. "y/n, this is jesse." he gave a smile to you to which you couldn't help but smile back softly. "and... ellie." she didn't lift her head. "ellie." she kicked her underneath the table once more.

ellie lifted her eyes, sending a glare your way before turning her head back down. you frowned but kept quiet. you didn't understand why the girl didn't like you but who were you to judge, you can't change how someone feels about you. besides, she didn't know you, you still had time to get her to warm up to you. perhaps she was like that with everyone.

in a way, she was.

"I was wondering if i could borrow your biology notes again over the weekend?" you had hopeful eyes, a little sympathy in them. "i'm sorry, i know i've asked like three weeks in a row now, i just really need to get this done." you had been attempting to rewrite all of your notes since the start of the year, you had realised how much you'd fallen behind in biology after you took cheerleading a bit too seriously.

dina waved you off, a big smile stretched on her lips. "yeah, no worries, you can drop by saturday?"

you grinned up at the girl. "yeah, i'll swing by after practice." practice. ellie could feel another eye roll coming on. "thank you so much." you began getting up from your seat next to the girls.

there wasn't much room, your leg brushed against ellie. you expected her to retract with a hiss as if you'd burned her, as if you were carrying a plague. instead, she froze. she didn't look disgusted, nor did she look happy, she didn't look much of... anything. she just froze.

in ellie's mind, she was cursing herself. if another pretty girl had brushed up against her, she would have smirked and leaned into it. she was cursing herself because she almost had. for a second, she forgot who you were. she forgot that the only reason she could feel the smooth skin of your leg was because of that stupid uniform.

"it was nice meeting you both." you smiled, mostly to ellie. you thought if you showed off your pearly whites she may see that you mean no harm.

when she didn't look up again, you sighed before leaving. what was so wrong with you that the girl hated you so much?

𝜗𝜚

ellie didn't need a fucking math tutor.

that's what she'd been telling herself for the past thirty minutes. she had been in her car, a rusted up van given to her by joel, passed down onto her. mr. gray had told her that she was flunking math and with the grades she was getting, if she kept them up he'd have to choice but to hold her back.

she couldn't risk that. so, he got her a tutor. at first, she got angry, stating that there was no need, she didn't need a tutor. she'd figure something out by herself. maybe jesse or dina could help her? but the man assured her that even they were only a mere average. he'd arranged a date for the first tutoring session at the local coffee shop, he stated that the tutor was the smartest kid he had ever taught. at least in math.

when she heard that you were her tutor, she downright flipped out.

yet, here she was in her van, stuffing the text books that lay on the seat back into the bag and opening the door. she couldn't afford to stay back, she'd have to make it work.

even if that meant you becoming her tutor.

she could imagine it now. you'd run thirty minutes late and be sat in the front of a fancy car, a porsche or something and you'd sit her in the darkest corner of the coffee shop.

yet, as she walked in, ten minutes early, you were already sat there. you were clad in a light jeans and a large woollen sweater, an off white, kind of brown. it was odd not seeing you in that uniform of yours. ellie awkwardly found herself ordering a coffee, her eyes drifting off to you. you had a couple text books open, notebooks too with a glass sitting next to you, pink straw peeking out.

"uh, hi." the sound of her voice caused you to jump before turning around to see her, smiling softly. she did not return the smile, sitting herself down at the booth you were in. right next to the window, the place that received the most light in the entire coffee shop. "you're early." she commented, mumbling beneath her breath a "probably cause of the porsche."

at the sound of your honey laugh, she looked up. your smile was wide and you shook your head. "no, i took my bike." you nodded outside the window to the little turquoise bike that sat in front of the cafe, little basket sitting in the front. "left the porsche in my garage." the sound of the joke nearly had ellie's lips curling upwards. nearly. she stopped herself. "uhm, we don't have to start just yet, you know, cause we're both early."

ellie barely muttered out an "alright." before setting her books on the table.

"what're you drinking?" you questioned quizzically.

"huh?" she glanced to the coffee cup next to her.

you shrugged your shoulders. "I think you can tell a lot from a person by what they drink. mine's a frappe, no coffee." your smile was a little lopsided. "makes me too hyper. what about you?"

"coffee." she deadpanned. "black."

"that's nice." you shuffled around awkwardly at a failed attempt of soothing down your own embarrassment. "you come here often?"

"look." ellie wasn't in the mood for your chit-chat, or anyone's for that matter. but you just so happened to be the one sitting in front of her at that given moment. "we don't need to do this whole small talk thing, i'm here 'cause i'm flunking math not because i'm trying to have it on with abby anderson's little girlfriend."

your brows furrowed, a little taken aback. "I'm not her girlfriend." you mumbled. "let's just get started, then." and so you pushed the chunky text book her way.

a couple moments passed you by. it was almost complete silence as you looked over the sums ellie had done. she was strumming the pencil against the table and waiting for you to finish. when you did, you wore a sloppy grin. "you got 'em all right." you spoke, pride in your voice. "well done, they were really hard." they weren't hard, ellie knew that. they were the basic sums, the easy ones that would soon lead into all the algebra she could never understand. but you were trying. really trying.

you gave her a couple more on the next chapter, awaiting her finish as you read through your own notes. she noted the fact that you didn't take out your phone to flick through your messages, or sigh loudly looking at the clock. there wasn't any rush or pressure.

she felt her insides twist a little. perhaps she was being a bit harsh earlier. "every saturday." she mumbled catching your attention, you hummed in question. "every saturday at one o clock, i come here... to draw."

your eyes lit up a little. "you draw?" ellie's heart stuttered. you didn't know? if you didn't know she drew then could it be possible that you hadn't heard the stephanie meadows situation at all? could dina have been right when she said that you truly were different?

"uh, yeah." she murmured, too busy thinking over the situation. what was happening? "yeah, i draw."

by the end of the session, you'd learned not much more about ellie other than the fact that she really did need this tutoring. perhaps it was a good thing she had been paired with you and not someone else. you knew that if you were working with ellie, patience was required.

you were walking out the door together when the bell dinged slightly, you had to go one way to get to your bike, she had to go the other to get to her car. "ellie?" she turned, hands in her pockets and satchel sitting on her shoulder. "could i get your number?" her brows pinched together and you almost slapped yourself for the way her face scrunched up. "don't look too excited, i mean for the next tutoring session, mr. gray isn't gonna set up any more for us."

"uh, yeah." she fished into her back pocket, grabbing out a pen. "do you have a piece of paper?" You merely shoved your sleeve up, handing her your arm. she looked at you quizzingly before scribbling down the digits onto your arm. "Just... delete it after."

you pressed your lips into a thin line. "wasn't planning on keeping it."

𝜗𝜚

ellie was fucking furious.

her feet were practically stomping up the driveway of dina woodwards house as she shoved her fist against the door, harshly pounding on it.

a confused and concerned dina met her eyes soon after, she opened the door and the girl allowed herself in. "them fucking cheerleaders, dina! i'm gonna kill them! i'm gonna fucking kill them!"

"wha― ellie-" dina had seen ellie angry like this countless times, always mouthing on about those cheerleaders and how they're dead if they do something again. she never did stand up for herself.

"you know and you're the one who told me she was different!" dina looked at her with confusion laced in her eyes. "she's just another one of those fucking cunts! fuck the cheerleaders, they're all the fucking same! she's nothing but a bitch―"

"ellie!" dina had cut the girl off. ellie turned around to see you. you were standing with the biology notebook in hand while a gear bag was slung across your shoulder, dressed in your cheerleaders outfit from head to toe. the mere sight of you, of the clothes reminded ellie exactly why she hated you. all of you.

"you." she gave a sneer to the girl. "you told them where i was, didn't you?" you backed up, giving dina a confused and scared look. what was she talking about? "you told them i'd be at the fucking coffee shop and did you see what they did to my fucking car?!" outside the living room window you could see ellie's van pulled up, covered in some kind of a liquid. milk? yoghurt? coffee?

"I d-didn't―" you were backing away from ellie, confused and hurt. had she really thought you'd be behind something like that. "who―"

"who is it ever? stephanie fucking meadows, you're just like her. you know, i actually thought you might have some human decency but i was right, behind all that fucking prissiness, all the smiles and high fucking ponytails, you're all just a carbon copy of each other." you were staring at her in disbelief. "I told you i go there every saturday at one o clock, who shows up? i know you fucking told her!"

"I didn't!" was your feeble argument.

"yes you fucking did!" ellie's hands had come to the top of your arms, shoving you slightly. but she was much stronger than you were, you stumbled back lightly.

"ellie!" dina was grabbing ellie's own upper arm, dragging her away from you. "are you fucking insane?" ellie's pupils were blown wide. "if she said she didn't do it, then she didn't fucking do it, okay?"

"I'm, uhm―" your eyes looked elsewhere. "I'm gonna go, thanks dina." and you were fleeing the scene.

not seconds later did the front door burst open again, jesse running in panting. "ellie, i am so sorry." ellie and dina looked at him in confusion. "stephanie told me that if i didn't tell her where you were, she was gonna revoke my place on the soccer team and you know the coach is her dad. I didn't have any other choice."

dina was glaring at ellie, a sick look in her face. "looks like you owe someone an apology, doesn't it."

ellie was breathing through her nose.

shit.

𝜗𝜚

ellie was standing at your front door, wrapping her knuckles against it. she had this look on her face making it plain obvious that this was not something she wanted to be doing. you had your location on your phone which is the only reason ellie was able to see where you lived. and how were you going to feel when the girl that just laid hands on you showed up at your front door?

the door opened to reveal you, now dressed in a shorts and tank top. you looked at her expectingly. "uhm, yes?" she didn't miss the way you practically hid yourself behind the door.

she glanced at her own dirtied converse trying to piece together what she was going to say. "i know you didn't tell stephanie where i was." and then there was the mumble of, "I'm sorry."

you blinked at her. "you are?" you got the feeling that sorry wasn't something ellie williams said a lot. and it wasn't, the words were barely even in her vocabulary. yet here she was, apologising on your doorstep, to a cheerleader. you had the effect of making her do a lot of things she couldn't see herself doing.

"yeah." kicking one of the pebbles on the ground. "I am. i shouldn't have yelled at you and i especially shouldn't have laid hands on you." god, what had she been thinking? it was as if she was looking to start a fight with you. with you. ellie had been in a multitude of fights before. but you? nothing but a sunflower.

"It's okay." you pressed your lips into a thin line. you watched as ellie's head snapped upward. it was? "they shouldn't have done what they did to you. you were upset, i get it." you knew stephanie could be a lot of work, you were shocked when ellie had told you but at the same time, you weren't necessarily surprised.

"yeah but i took it out on you." and she shouldn't have, she really shouldn't have.

you shrugged your shoulders, a small smile stretched to your cheeks. "happens to the best of us." but ellie was sure, cheerleader or not, you were an angel in disguise.

she could have walked away then and there, she could have told you that she was thankful for your forgiveness and left. that was the plan, anyway. to leave, she didn't think she'd end up sticking around much longer. she didn't think you'd forgive her in the first place. but then she saw that pretty smile on your face, the way you didn't look at her all disgusted and scared, the look everyone else had been giving her her entire life. it was almost like you looked at her and she meant something. this is what urged the next words to leave her mouth.

"do you wanna go get ice cream?"

sitting in the back of an ice cream parlor with ellie williams was not on your saturday to do list and yet here you were, licking your vanilla ice cream. "i can't go back." the girl uttered. she'd gotten chocolate ice cream and given you a weird look, stating that you were nothing short of 'basic'. "that coffee shop was my place." she groaned, putting her head in her hands. "this is shit." the situation, she meant, the icecream was amazing.

you were squirming on your chair, wondering if you should speak your mind or keep it contained. fuck it. "you know, if you wanted..." her head looked up at you, all nervous and shy. "we could maybe come here on saturdays, you could draw, if you wanted and i could do like homework or something." you blew the air from your cheeks. "that way if someone comes in they won't give you a hard time 'cause you're with me. not that i'll tell anyone we're here."

ellie couldn't help the way her lips tugged upwards. she was staring.

"what?" you let out a breathy laugh.

she shook her head. "you're just not at all what i thought you were."

and that was how it began.

every saturday ended in you and ellie sitting in that ice cream parlor. usually, it began after practice so you were still dressed in your cheer uniform, it ended when the sky was dark and the ice cream place was closing.

you began spending an awful lot of time with ellie. sitting with her and her friends at lunch or even inviting her over some days that it was too cold or too rainy for the ice cream parlor. in doing this, you sort of pulled away from that whole 'clique' that you were in. you couldn't of been happier.

that led to now.

it was one of the days in the summer that was sort of cold so you and ellie decided against ice cream. she was sat across your bed on her stomach, doodling little things into that sketchbook of hers. "els?" she hummed, not looking up. you had called her the nickname accidentally one day but it sort of just stuck after that. "can i ask you something?"

she groaned slightly as she closed her book. "you know i hate it when you start all vague like that." you had been skipping your way over to the bed seeing as you were sitting at your desk beforehand, trying to focus on biology. oh, how you hated the subject.

you sat yourself down next to her, giving her those doey eyes. this couldn't be anything good. "I know, i'm sorry." you mumbled sheepishly. "and i know it's not exactly your thing but i was wondering if maybe you'd... you don't have to i just― if you'd like― would you want to maybe..."

ellie had to chuckle at your nervousness. you were so squeamish and shy at times. she wondered what other times you acted like this. squirmy and struggling for words. "spit it out, angel." those silly names had started a couple weeks ago when ellie 'accidently' said one just to see your reaction. but when your face turned beat red, she couldn't help but continue.

you sighed, placing your hands in your lap. "so, the last game is on saturday and you know, i'm kinda required to go and i obviously wanna spend time with you to so i was wondering if you maybe wanted to go?" scratching the back of your neck. "if they win, abby's hosting some after party at hers and you could bring dina and jesse? not that i'd leave you alone―"

ellie cut you off. "y/n." you were looking at her with those saucer eyes. "if you want me to go, i'm already there."

your lips curved up and a huge grin fell on your face. "oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!!" you slung your arms around her neck, hugging her close.

you were too close. she could feel all of you, the parts she wanted to the most. she ignored it, squeezing her eyes shut as she melted into the hug. if she had it her way, she'd be doing whatever she pleased with you. but the situation was delicate right now, she needed you to warm up to her completely. then, she'd make her move.

𝜗𝜚

ellie regretted saying yes to your offer. she hadn't regretted watching you jump around in that cheerleading outfit, giving her almost a full display of your ass. she hadn't regretted the way you looked at her every time the cheering slowed or you lost focus. there wasn't an inch of regret in her bones when you threw your arms around her at the end when the women's soccer team won their game, your body squishing against her own so she could feel everything. what she did regret though, was coming to this stupid party.

ellie was no stranger to parties, in fact she sort of liked them at times. she always found herself strung across a couch, joint sitting between her fingers.

parties usually relaxed her, allowed her to live on the edge a little.

but right now? her glare was enough to send someone six feet under.

it started out okay, with dina and jesse by her side, you excitedly clinging to her like a puppy. she liked that, the fact that you were so attached. then, as always, dina and jesse go find themselves a room. you stayed with ellie, sitting up on the couch with your knees bent, still in your little cheer costume. she'd offered you the joint to which your face scrunched up, declining the offer politely.

then abby anderson called you up.

now, ellie had sort of anticipated this. captain of the football team, captain of the cheer squad. it made sense. abby was doing her stupid speech that had ellie rolling her eyes, and smoking the joint. leave it to abby to make a party boring.

suddenly, you were under her arm.

you hadn't even been paying attention when abby grabbed you, holding your shoulder close. your eyes instantly flickered to ellie who didn't look nearly as happy as she had with you by her side. her jaw was clenched, hand fisted and eyes narrowed in on you. she brought the joint to her lips again, eyes never leaving yours as she blew the smoke out. she caught on to the way you gulped and looked away.

dare she say, she saw your thighs squeeze together.

when you returned to your seat, ellie wouldn't so much as look at you. you took this as it being time for you both to head home. ellie stated that she would drive you, as she had been the one driving here. you told her you didn't think it was so much of a good idea, she was definitely high.

but the look she turned to give you was enough to have you shrinking back, shutting your mouth.

when you got into the car, sitting in the passenger seat with your hands sitting in your lap, you couldn't help but turn your own eyes towards ellie's whose knuckles were turning white due to how hard she was holding onto the steering wheel. "els?" she didn't so much as hum your way. "are you okay?"

"'m fine." was her deadpanned response.

had you made her mad? was this all over abby? why would it be? could she be... jealous? there was no way in hell. you knew you liked ellie, that much for sure but there was no possibility of her liking you back, you knew this. you'd been so wrapped up in your own thinking that you almost missed the way she had missed the turn off to your house. "els, you missed the turn." craining your head to look at the turn as if it was going to come back.

"I know." she stated, voice still icy cold. "i'm bringing you to mine." joel was out tonight, ellie knew this meaning there was no way in hell this man would be home before two pm the following day.

when ellie opened up the big brown door for you, it occurred to you that you'd never actually been in the house. you glanced around as you felt a cold hand on the small of your back. ellie lead you towards what you assumed was her bedroom. you glanced up, she still hadn't looked at you, her eyes strained straight forward. you stopped walking causing the girl to finally snap her eyes down towards you. you moved to step in front of her. "ellie, are you sure you're okay, i―"

ellie cut you off by her lips crashing into your own.

you didn't have time to think, melting into the kiss. the girl shoved the door behind you open, keeping you in her arms as she led you inside, leaving her foot kick the door closed. she made sure you didn't fall over until your foot hit the edge of your bed where she guided your back onto her sheets.

your head was spinning, the feeling of her rough lips on yours was enough to have you weak at the knees, a feeling pooling in your panties. but you were also confused. when ellie pulled away for air, eyes viewing you and your puffy lips, you took this as your chance. "ellie, wha―"

but she cut you off with a low groan. "just stop talking." and suddenly her lips were on yours again. her hand travelled down underneath you, hands coming up to squeeze at your ass. you whimpered into her mouth, the noise going straight down to her cunt. she held back a grunt as her hand moved to your stomach, flipping up your skirt and letting her fingers travel down further. they trailed up your thighs until they found your clothed cunt, sopping and wet. "f-fuck." ellie stuttered out, she'd expected it to be a little wet, sure, but she had this kind of an effect on you? "you're ruining your cheerleaders outfit, angel." you couldn't contain yourself, hips bucking and a whine falling from your lips. holy shit. ellie wasn't going to be able to contain herself, she'd end up creaming in her pants. "get on your knees."

your big blown out eyes found her own lowly red ones. "what?" nervousness eating at your stomach.

ellie took note of the little worry laced in your eye, she knew you better than you knew yourself. "get on your knees f'me, baby." pressing a little kiss against your neck. but she realised she had been just a little too soft. "now." she spoke, sternly.

you did as you were told, eyes never leaving ellie's as you positoned yourself on the ground underneath her, slight confusion lacing your eyes, mostly excitement. your knees scratched against her old carpet, eyes doey and looking up with enlarged pupils.

ellie bent down, her legs spread in front of you as she tilted your chin up, kissing you roughly. you could feel the hunger in the kiss. "don't like abby looking at you, touching you." you could hear the venom in her voice, her tone changing as if poison had been sat underneath her tongue. "touching what's mine."

you shook your head, eyes wide. "ellie it wasn't like that, she was told to―"

"shh." ellie didn't want to hear it, she especially didn't want to keep talking about abby, not when she had a pretty cheerleader sitting on her knees for her. "jus' say you're sorry 'n put your mouth where it's useful, yeah?"

ellie grabbed your hands, guiding them up to her hips so she could stick your two thumbs down the waistband of both her jeans and her boxers. "'m sorry, els, 'm really sorry." eyes almost watery. ellie helped you pull her jeans and boxers down her legs, letting them pile around her ankles, not caring enough to take them off completely.

"then show me." she spoke, voice a mere mumble, she was trying to stay in control but it was so hard when you were so close to her core. "c'mon, you know what to do."

your hands had sat at her thighs, keeping you propped up as you mouth came close to where she needed you. you looked up at her, then back down to her sopping cunt. breathing out lowly, your breath fell onto her causing her hips to buck. your tongue peeked out of your mouth before you leaned forward, pressing a kitten lick to her cunt. she let out a grunt letting you know that she liked it, with a little confidence you did it again, and again, and again.

you heard a low chuckle through her grunts from above you. "y'so cute." she mumbled, her hand falling into your hair as she tugged it closer. you moaned against her causing vibrations throughout her body. "s-shit." she found herself bucking her hips into your mouth.

you found your tongue moving against her quickly, practically making out with her cunt as your tongue dipped itself into her hole. you didn't really know what you were doing, you were doing what you hoped was right and by the grunts and curses that were falling from her lips, something had to be good. tongue dancing in circles around her clit making her chant your name as she held onto your roots, tugging you impossibly closer.

you sucked at her clit, it caused her entire body to move. "fuck, baby, jus' like that." she bucked her hips into your face, grinding down on it. it was as if she were face fucking you, the thought didn't seem so bad. "shit, don't stop." mumbling things you weren't even paying attention to. your hips were grinding against nothing, searching for release as your tongue worked against the girl.

ellie felt euphoric. she'd dreamt of this very moment a thousand times over, you with your mouth on her. she couldn't contain herself any longer, she knew that if you kept your pace up she was going to cum.

she couldn't. not yet. not before you.

she had so much more planned.

she hadn't even registered the fact that she was pulling you up before she was practically throwing you onto the bed. her big hands messed with the plush of your hips, squishing the fat of your ass as she turned you over so your face was buried in the sheets. "did i do something wrong?" you mumbled with fear in your tone, practically muffled into her sheets.

"no, bunny, you did so well." her mouth pressed kisses against the back of your thighs. she held your ass in the air while your face was practically squished against the pillows. "too well." wet hot and sloppy kisses all against your skin. "wanna have my fun with you now." her fingers moved to your covered cunt, rubbing up and down gently, a moan fell from your lips. "feel good, hm?" she moved to sit up on her knees, towering over you as she played with your pussy from over the cloth. she leaned over you. "tell me what you want." but you merely bucked your hips back. she stopped you by pressing her hands firmly on your waist. "tell me what you want or you wont get anything."

you whimpered desperately. "ellie." the sound of her voice on your lips was enough to have her going completely mad. "need your fingers." the mumble was low and pathetic, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

she didn't move from her position. slowly, she trailed her hand back down to where your sopping cunt lay. she pulled the fabric of your cheerleaders outfit and your panties away from your pussy, sliding them across your ass as her fingers gently rubbed at your now bare cunt. "this what you want?" your hips were rolling against her fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head and incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. you didn't answer, too caught up in your own euphoria. "god, you're fucking pathetic." and nodded your head too, agreeing with her as she drew tight little circles around your clit.

you could have came by the mere stimulation of her fingers against your clit but you wanted all of her. "inside." you mumbled through your whining. "please, els."

she was rather enjoying herself too, pressing kisses on the back of your neck. "you can beg better than that." she had full faith that you could. your whining never stopped as you threw your head into the pillows, much too embarrassed. "listen to me." her mouth falling near your ear. "be a good slut and beg for my fingers or you're not getting anything."

and the way her voice sounded and the way her fingers felt never stopping their attack on your clit. how could you not? “please els, please need it so bad.” grinding your hips down on her moving fingers. “please, i’ll be good, promise i’ll be good, please ellie.”

“good girl.” ellie cooed into your ear, a smirk on her lips. she stuck two fingers inside you without warning, pumping them in and out of your dripping hole. “see? wasn’t so hard was it? ‘n now you got what you wanted.” pressing kisses against your shoulders as she continued her assault on your dripping pussy.

you babbled and whined, whimpered and begged as you felt her fingers completely undo you. they were pumping in and out of you consistently as she soaked in your every whimper, your every noise as you babbled into the sheets. even you were unaware of what you were trying to say, all you knew was that noises fell from your lips and they seemed like good ones. “ellie!” you were almost screaming her name in a chant. “‘m gonna, i can’t―”

“i know, sweetgirl.” cooing at you again. “can’t hold it?” you shook your head over and over, your hole tightening around her two fingers that plunged right back into you. “mm, let go, pretty. be a good girl ‘n cum all over my fingers.” and that was exactly what you did. 

she felt you tighten around her, completely sucking in her two fingers as you gushed around her, wet and sloppily as you came undone. she kept moving her fingers, allowing you to ride it out as she pumped in and out of you, gently now that she knew you were sensitive. when you collapsed onto the bed, fucked out and tired, she finally let her fingers exit your little hole.

her eyes couldn’t help but be strained to your face, cheeks pink and eyes slightly droopy. you looked completely fucked out and she was the cause of it. pride melted inside her as she grabbed your knee, flipping you around to look up at her with those doey eyes again, pupils wide.

she wasn’t entirely done with you yet.

“can you give me another?” you weren’t responding, babbling something as she reached down to untie your little costume. she slipped it off you with ease, smirking at the fact that you hadn’t been wearing a bra. “yeah?” to your constant babbling, not a clue in her head of what you were trying to say. “know you can, pretty girl.” reaching up to grab the top of her jumper, sliding it off and tossing it somewhere across the room.

you were gawking at her, not a drip of shame inside you. eyes wide as you stared. she understood for she had been staring just as much as you had. eyes drawn to your chest as her hands came down to kneed your tits, fingers slipping over your nipple causing a moan to fall from you, arching your back up on the bed.

she just had to have her cunt on yours. 

she quickly climbed atop you, watching your face that never moved, you were waiting in anticipation for what she was going to do next. when she lowered herself onto your cunt, you couldn’t help but whimper out. even when your pussy was all sensitive, you couldn’t help but grind your hips upwards. the best part? she hadn’t even started moving yet.

“fuck.” she breathed out, feeling your clit rub against hers. “jus’ slow down, alright?” chuckling at your nodding. “gonna give you what you wan’t. jus’ gotta… jus’ need to…” but she cut herself off, unable to keep talking as her eyes rolled, a moan falling from her lips. the way you rolled your hips against hers, the way her clit bumped off your own, she couldn’t keep up.

her hands moved to sit up against you, she needed to take some sort of control. she moved upright, grinding her hips down to meet yours. her movements were much quicker than yours, a little desperate as she felt your clit constantly on hers. she couldn’t help the low groan that fell from her lips. “els!” you were a moaning, blabbering mess, back arched against the bed and eyes screwed shut. “feels so good, els, feels―” cutting yourself off with yet another whine.

ellie’s eyes were on yours, watching as your face twisted and contorted in pleasure. It drove her to hump her hips quicker, bouncing and bumping clit to clit. “good girl.” her own breath shaking. “takin’ it so well, my good girl.” 

the way the words fell from your lips had your stomach twisting in knots for the second time that evening. this time, you could barely hold yourself. “ellie!” you couldn’t even get the words out, all you could feel and see was pleasure, all you could think was ellie.

ellie knew what you were trying to say, merely grunting as she found her own stomach pooling with that feeling. “yeah?” her head in your neck as she moved her hips against you so quickly, grinding down so fast, you could see stars. “you gonna cum all over me?” there was a higher pitch to her tone, you could tell she was so close, as close as you were. “gonna cum all over me like the little slut you are, hm? my slut.” 

that was all you needed.

when ellie felt it, she found her hips stuttering against you. the sputtering of liquid against her, coming from your pussy. her eyes glanced down to see you squirting all over her cunt, hips chasing you as the liquid spurted, hitting her and travelling down to your stomach. the whining and the whimpering in her ear didn’t stop.

watching you squirt all over her could only make her come as close as you had. her stomach knots unravelled as she came, her hands holding your own tightly. you both grinded against each other as you came down from your highs.  

when ellie finished, watching as your legs shook, she collapsed to the other side of you, chest heaving up and down, her eyes glancing to you who was looking at the ceiling in pure shock. she couldn’t help the way her lips curved completely upwards, the biggest shit eating grin on her face.

she had fucked the cheerleader.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[scarlethexelove]

Please Don't Leave Me

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 4281

Warnings: Angst, Pregnant!Reader, Natasha being an ass, injuries, Depression, Wanda being the bestest of friends.

Part 2: Gone

A/n: Had this one in my head for some time and finally decided to write it. As it always seems these fics just seem to run wild and get longer than I mean them to be. I can tell you all right now I'm pretty sure your not going to like the ending very much 😅

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

“Natty.” You try to get your wife's attention as she moves around the room quickly. Natasha is shoving things in a bag. “Nat.” You try again, but she doesn’t stop. Frantically moving around the room grabbing whatever she can. “Natasha!” You finally yell at her. She still doesn’t stop her movements. “Y/n I can’t right now.” She says shoving the last of her things in her bag. “Nat I have something important to tell you.” You try to reason with the woman, but she just zips her bag throwing it over her shoulder and walks past you. “There are things you don’t understand. I have to go.” You grab her arm and she finally looks back at you. “I really need to tell you this.” You try to reason with her. Your eyes pleading with her just to let you talk. But she shakes her head and pulls her arm from your grasp. “There are more important things than you right now.” She makes it to the door letting it creak open. “We will talk when I get home.” She doesn’t face you, only slightly turning her head before she is gone. “Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” You see her hesitate in the door but she shakes her head before slamming the door shut behind her. 

Your heart shatters in your chest as your legs buckle beneath you. A muffled thud is heard as your knees hit the ground. Your hand covers your mouth as a sob escapes the depths of your chest. You pull the small stick from your back pocket looking down at the two pink lines. “I’m pregnant.” You whisper to yourself like somehow Nat will hear you and come back, but you know she won’t. To Natasha her job has always been more important than anything. She loves being an Avenger and helping people, but it always comes at a cost to you. You had a sliver of hope that maybe just maybe this could change that. After what she had gone through in the red room she was pretty sure that she couldn’t get you pregnant but here you are. The prospects of having a child had given you hope that maybe she would come back to you. Be the loving wife that you know she can be. The little pink lines now taunting you as tears splash down on the plastic blurring your vision and the once prominent lines. 

It seems like hours before you finally pick yourself up off the ground. Finally having cried all the tears away. Pulling yourself off the ground as you wipe your cheeks before making your way to your shared bedroom. It is empty, too empty. The book Nat was reading was still sitting face down open to the page that she had left it on. Moon light shining through the curtains illuminating the dark room. You don’t bother turning on the lights or changing clothes as you crawl into the cold bed. Seeming much larger now than ever before. You curl in on yourself, exhaustion from all the tears you have cried catching up to you. A pain in your chest as you finally drift off into nothingness. 

Over the next few days multiple new stations report of the Avengers fighting one another. The chaos and destruction of a German airport. You place a hand over your lower stomach as the news flashes. ‘Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow has broken the Sokovia Accords. Now wanted for treason against the federal government.’ If you thought your heart couldn’t break more you were wrong. 

It has been nearly four months since that fateful day. The day your world shattered around you. You had hoped that one day maybe Nat would try and contact you but those hopes had been dashed over a month ago. She had moved on and so should you. You slowly pack your things in the home that you once shared with your wife. You’re not even sure if you should call her that anymore. A single tear running down your cheek at the thought. You still love her deeply but you can’t live like this. You have a baby to think about now, you need to live for them. Placing your hand on your growing stomach as you gently rub your finger up and down feeling their movement and smiling. 

A phone ringing breaks you from the tender moment. You grab your phone looking down to see an unknown number calling you. Your heart stops a moment wondering if after all this time it is finally Nat calling you. You're so distracted by the tight feeling in your chest that the phone stops ringing and the call ends. You still stare blankly at the screen before it starts to ring again. Phone lighting up in your hand once again still showing unknown as the caller. 

This time you press the answer button. Your movements are slow as you bring it up to your ear. You open your mouth but no words come out, your breaths coming out erratic as you begin to panic. Your ear is soon filled with a soft voice. “Y/n/n?” That voice is distinct but not your wifes. “Y/n are you there?” The voice asks again. “W-Wanda?” Your voice trembles as your mind catches up. Your best friend is on the other side of the line. 

This is the first time you have heard from any of the Avengers for a long time. Tony once stopped by but you refuse to let him in. You didn’t listen to any of the words coming out of his mouth as he spoke through the door. If it wasn’t for him you don’t think you would be in this position right now and maybe your hopes for a better future with Nat would have come true. Wanda had sent a few letters letting you know she was ok. You couldn’t obviously send anything back due to now knowing where she was and the nature of the events and why she was also on the run. 

“Y/n/n?” Wanda’s voice breaks through your mind once again. “I-I’m sorry Wands. What were you saying?” Her words had been muffled by your mind. She shakes her head like you could possibly see her doing that. “Nothing sweetheart. Are you ok?” She can tell that something isn’t right. “Not really. I, I’m alone.” Wanda’s heart breaks for you. She may be on the run but she hasn’t been alone. “I’m tired, Wands.” You know you shouldn’t be thinking that with a child on the way but it has been hard. Tears start to fall down your cheeks as you sniffle into the phone. 

Wanda made a decision right there. “Sweetheart, I'm going to send Vision to come and get you.” She knows it could be dangerous to have you with her but she also knows that you’re not a wanted fugitive so if for some reason that she is caught you will be left alone. But she will do everything in her power to keep you safe. She can’t stand to hear you this hurt and down. “W-what if that gives away where you are?” You question not wanting to bring her into any danger. “I’m safe here. If you want to, you can come here. We have to move every so often. You don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’m not going to leave you alone. You always have me.” You cry tears of happiness for the first time in a long time. “Yes.” Your voice is small but hopeful. 

You land with Vision somewhere in what you believe to be Belgium. Vision never mentioned anything to you about your pregnancy which you are thankful for. You see Wanda bound out of the small quaint house on the outskirts of the town. You watch as she stops in her tracks a few feet away from you. Your head dropping, not wanting to see her reaction. Scared that she wouldn’t want you around any more. 

“Y/n/n.” Wanda says quietly trying to get you to raise your gaze to hers but you don’t look up. Tears well in your eyes, scared to move, scared to look your best friend in the eye. Hands cup your face gently making you look up into green eyes. A soft smile on her face. “You're pregnant.” It’s not a question but a statement from the woman. You nod your head as she pulls you into her arms hugging you as tightly as she can without hurting you or the baby. 

Just then the flood gates break. A sob leaves you as tears cascade down your cheeks into Wanda’s shirt. You bury your head in her neck. A hand rubbing gently up and down your back as you're held for the first time in months. Your legs give out as you clutch to Wanda for dear life afraid that you're going to wake up and she will be gone. Wanda holds on gently guiding you both to the ground as she lets you cry. Your tears soak her shirt as you sob for what feels like forever. Wanda whispers reassurances in your ear as she just holds you. Her gentle motions on your back, not ceasing. 

Wanda lets you get out your pent up emotions. Sitting with you until your sobs turn into sniffles. “She left me. I never got to tell her.” You whisper, still gripping onto Wanda. “What sweetheart?” She asks, trying to get you to elaborate. “Natasha. I-I haven’t heard from her. She, she left that day to Germany. I tried to tell her. She, she told me that there were more important things than myself.” Wanda’s eyes swirl red with anger. How could Natasha do this to you? All she wants to do is fly off and break Natasha like she broke you. But Wanda comes back to reality when you grip her tighter, scared she will leave you just like Nat did. 

“Please don’t leave me.” If it was even possible Wanda’s heart broke for you more. Like herself you don’t have any family. All of yours were gone long ago, but you had found a family in the Avengers, a wife. But that family is now broken but Wanda is determined to show you that she is still your family. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart. I will always be here for you.” She kisses your head smiling. “And for the baby.” More tears come to your eyes but from happiness. 

“So you and Vision?” You give a watery chuckle. Wanda nudges your shoulder and laughs. “Yeah.” She smiles happily when you pull back to look at her. “So like does he come with a vibrator setting?” You ask half joking half serious. “Oh my god Y/n!” Wanda exclaims, shocked by your bold question. You two laugh as she helps you off the ground leading you into the house. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to mention something to Nat?” Wanda asks you softly, causing you to look up from the book your head is buried in. You let out a sigh as this constant conversation. “If she wanted to know how I was doing she could have called me the same way you did.” You rub your swollen stomach. So close to meeting your precious little one. “Wands I know you are looking out for me and I also know how pissed you are at her. I also know that you partly want to tell her to rub it in her face on how royally she screwed up. She has had almost 9 months to find me. And I know that you said she has mentioned that she has done it for my own safety but at least hearing from her once would have been something. Instead she went no contact. The famous Black Widow knows how to send encrypted messages if she really wanted to.” 

Wanda knows how much you are right and every time she has to touch base with the team she has been distant and cold with Nat. She so badly wants to break her heart the way she has to you. She knows how much you still love Nat and would love to be a family. These times are hard though with everyone on the run so she bites her tongue and nods her head to your words. 

To get your mind off of things you put your book down and swing your feet off the bed. “Hey Wands, it's a nice night, maybe we can all take a walk.” Vision appears in the doorway. “That sounds like a lovely idea Y/n.” You smile at the synthezoid before giving a questioning look to Wanda. “Sure.” She nods her head. “But someone is going to have to help me with my shoes.” You chuckle trying to reach down to your feet which you can’t reach. The other two laugh before all of you put on some clothes and help you with yours. 

Wanda and Vision are holding hands as you walk through the streets of Edinburgh, the quiet street clearing your mind as you three walk peacefully. Vision stops Wanda to talk a bit as you waddle over to a window with a news cast playing. You watch on as a breaking news cast flashes on the screen. As the scene plays out in front of you you gasp. “Wanda.” You call for her. The conversation dies between the two as they come up behind you seeing as the screen plays footage of New York being attacked. You all stand there silently as death and destruction is shown on the screen. Tony Stark missing flashes on the screen and Vision looks to Wanda. 

“I have to go.” Vision says kissing Wanda’s hand that is still laced with his. He starts to walk away dropping her hand, Wanda pleads with him to stay. You start to drown them out as you watch the screen. Terrified that you may see something about Natasha come across it. Screams of pain makes you turn around seeing Vision impaled on a staff. “Vision!” Wanda screams, her hands glowing red ready to fight. 

Someone else blasts Wanda from behind sending her flying into a building across the street. With you close proximity you're thrown back hard. Trying to brace yourself you hear a sickening crack as your wrist impacts with the ground. You scream out in pain. “Y/n!” Vision yells when he hears your cry of pain. You turn on the ground seeing him do the same. The two who attacked turned him over on his back and the thing that stabbed him placed the sharp end of the staff on his head.

Vision’s screams can be heard through the quiet streets. You struggle trying to get yourself up knowing your wrist is broken, cradling it close to your chest. You watch as red balls of energy slam into the two creatures throwing them back. Wanda runs towards Vision using her magic and pulling you safely over to him. Pain is written all over her face as she looks over the both of you. She uses her magic to lift all of you off the ground pulling you closer to her as she tries to fly you all away from the area. You all are almost hit by a beam causing Wanda to have to bring you all down. Wanda lands you both down gently laying you on the ground before turning to catch Vision with her magic. 

“The blade, it stopped me from phasing.” Vision says as you see a bright yellow line in his body and he seems to be glitching. “Is that even possible?” Wanda asks, helping him sit up against the wall. “It’s not supposed to be.” He says, you can tell he is in pain. Your adrenaline is pumping so your wrist is just a dull ache at the moment. Wanda hovers her hand over Vision, her magic flowing and pulling the opening closed slowly but not completely. “I’m beginning to think we should have stayed inside.” You mumble feeling guilty that this could have been avoided if not for you avoiding your feelings about Nat. 

You and Wanda are pushed back by Vision as one of the creatures grabs Vision flying off and fighting against a building. The other comes and attacks you and Wanda. Wanda puts a barrier of magic around you. She starts to fight the female creature as your heart races in your chest. 

You lose sight of the both of them fighting. Wanda’s magic dissipates from around you allowing you to move forward looking for your friends. You can hear it now so clearly in your head like she actually is yelling at you. Natasha’s voice tells you to run and protect yourself, but Wanda is your best friend and she has been there for you. So you push that voice away following the commotion. You run into the train station seeing Vision propped against a railing. Wanda stands red surrounding her hands as the two creatures look ready to fight once again. 

Squealing of wheels from the train moving past has you all looking. A dark figure in the shadows looms behind the moving train. The female creature throws her trident-like spear at the figure when the train passes. The figure catching it perfectly as he walks into the light you see Steve Rogers. You try to get up behind the female creature but she quickly turns wrapping her hand around your throat. 

“Y/n!” Wanda screams. The female creature throws you back and you land on your back crying out in pain. You feel a gush of liquid between your legs after you hit the ground. Wings fly in front of you as Sam Wilson collides with the creature. You let your hand drift down feeling the wetness and bring your fingers back up into view, relieved that it isn’t blood, but your heart drops when you realize what is happening. You gasp in pain from the sharp feeling in your stomach. 

Wanda uses her magic again to pull you towards her and Vision. Wanda pulls you into her lap. That is when you spot her in the distance. The hair color may be different but she is still herself. Natasha fights with Steve against the creatures. You have tears in your eyes as you look up at Wanda. “Wands, I think my water just broke.” You groan in pain again. You can see the panic in her eyes as she looks around the area. It’s not long before the fighting is done and the other three walk over towards you three. 

Natasha stops dead in her tracks when she sees you. Your swollen stomach has her chest rising and falling a bit fast. She thinks maybe it could be someone else's but she knows deep down that the baby is hers. She wants to cry but she turns stone cold hiding her emotions. Hating herself for leaving you, for never reaching out in all this time. You cry out in pain causing her to look back to you. You're curled in on yourself in Wanda’s lap. “It hurts.” You whimper.  Wanda holds you closer to her. “I know sweetheart.” Wanda looks to the other three. “We need to get them out of here.” She can see the two men side eyeing her before Steve speaks up. “Quickly, get them to the Quinjet.” 

Natasha moves to help you but you pull away. “I have her, can you help Vision?” Wanda says flatly, Nat can only nod moving away and helping Vision up. Wanda effortlessly lifts you in her arms and you all make your way to the Quinjet. Your contractions are getting strong and closer together. Natasha can only watch from afar as you whimper in pain. Wanda helps you and Vision sits close holding his side. 

“We need to get her to a hospital.” Wanda says brushing the hair sticking to your forehead out of the way. “We will be at the compound in 30 minutes.” Steve explains. “Steve, I don't know if she can last that long.” She iterates looking back down at your pained face. “It’s the best I can do Wanda.” She sighs gently stroking your cheek. “It’s ok Wands. I’ll be o-” Your cut off by another contraction. All Nat can do is look on with regret. 

Once the quinjet finally lands Wanda lifts you in her arms again and runs into the compound they enter and see Rhodey talking to a hologram of Secretary Ross. “We need medical.” Natasha says out, causing Rhodey to turn and for Secretary Ross to start arguing. You can’t concentrate on what they are saying but you know it isn’t great. Rhodey ends the call and signals for medical, who come in with Bruce. 

As they wheel you away the team follows. Before Wanda can head in after you Nat grabs her arm. Wanda whips her head around anger evident on her face. “Please just tell me. Is it mine?” Wanda gives an amused chuckle. “Of course it’s yours.” She pulls her arm from Nat’s grasp and follows you in the room. Nat lets tears slip down her face. She left you alone pregnant with her child. Not once contacting you in the last nine months. She had told herself she was doing it to protect you and to keep you out of this life, but she was wrong and she sees that now. She understands now why Wanda became so cold towards her after a few months. She has to fix this. She has to be able to win you back and to become the family she always wanted and she will do anything to get that back. 

Natasha can hear your cries of pain as you go through labor wishing more than anything she could be there with you but you don’t want her to be. But you chose Wanda and she understands why. She soon hears other cries. The crying of her child as they are born. Tears slip down her cheeks as she hears them. The boys know not to go around her or to talk to her at this moment. She is breaking on the inside and all she has to blame is herself. 

An hour later Wanda walks out and comes over to Nat. Her head is down, not looking at the younger woman waiting for a scolding, but that doesn’t come. “You can go meet your son.” Wanda speaks with no emotion to her voice. Natasha looks up and Wanda can see she has been crying but that doesn’t change how angry Wanda is at her. “I have a son?” Nat whispers. Wanda just nods her head and moves out of the way. 

Natasha slips into the room quietly. Her heart stops seeing you laying in the bed with a blue bundle in your arms and a smile on your face. More tears spill as she quietly makes her way over to you. You don’t look at her until she is standing right next to you. “He’s beautiful.” Nat mumbles trying to stop the sob that so desperately wants to escape. You have a soft look on your face and she can’t read it. “Meet Alexander Pietro Romanoff.” You smile down at your son. Natasha lets the tears freely fall. “Romanoff?” She questions you. “Romanoff.” You repeat looking back up at her with a soft smile. She feels a flicker of hope that she can fix this, that she can have her family.

“Do you want to hold him?” You ask her softly and lightly lift him the best you can with your broken wrist. Nat nods and takes him from you holding him in her arms. She has so much love for him already that more tears well in her eyes. You watch her as she holds the baby and cries. 

“I’m sorry.” Nat whispers. “I'm so sorry.” She looks at you with teary eyes. “I know.” Is all you can respond with. She looks back down at the now sleeping boy. Just looking at him and remembering all of his features. She had seen the flicker of green in his eyes, the same as hers. But he looks so much like you. He is just as beautiful as you are. 

Loud beeping makes Nat’s head snap up. Your face is now pale and your eyes are closed. The sheets are staining red between your legs. Doctors rush in as she backs away holding her son close to her chest. He starts to cry with all the noise and commotion. Her heart rate picks up and she starts to panic. The voices of the doctors are muffled to her ears as she feels the blood rushing around. She can only focus on you, your face pale and your body limp in the bed as doctors work around you. They soon wheel you out of the room mentioning something about you hemorrhaging and needing to go to surgery. 

Nat starts sobbing in the empty room. All that is left is herself and her son. She slides down the wall begging to whatever is out there in the universe that you will be ok. That you will come back to her and your son. Promising that she will do better and be better. She will be the wife that she had promised in her vows. She will do anything for you to take her back, just please let you live. She whispers in the emptiness. “Please don’t leave me.”

[syoddeye]

down the hatch / badgering

141 x f!reader | ~1.9k | series page tags: p in v sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, bad jokes, manipulation, spanking, manhandling a/n: you know that tunnel scene in willy wonka and the chocolate factory? that's how it feels when i write this. a hoot and a half. banner by @/cafekitsune.

it’s an adjustment. living with roommates again. roommates who refuse to leave, thanks to all the death and destruction outside. convenient excuse, really.

no more naked mornings. you could go tits out—they fucking do—but you’re not entirely without reason. as salivating as they are, the hunks are your enemies.

even if they’ve showered, trimmed, and got some of the bloodstains out of their clothes. 

even if soap makes canned meat and powdered eggs palatable, whipping up a spam and rice bowl for you without asking.

even if gaz finds a five-hundred-piece puzzle on a scavenging trip and bites his tongue when you bat his hand away when he tries to help sort the pieces.

even if ghost slips a game of hangman under your door at lights out, and lets you guess a couple of letters each night. (first word? ‘wanker’. second? ‘larynx.’)

even if john—well, wait, no. the asshole hasn’t made a peace offering. probably because he knows you won’t honor them or because he’s sore about the whole ‘no cool nickname’ thing. whatever.

at night, alone in your room, you plot. how does one evict four man-roaches? make living with you worse than living outside.

in a weird way, your austrian neighbor and his aspirations for a fucking von trapp family: the squeakuel comes in handy. he hoarded all types of junk.

soap’s your guinea pig. he’s moody. something’s always itching under his skin. he snaps at the other men too easily and watches you like a dog admiring meat hanging off a bone. opportunity arrives one morning when john and gaz head topside and ghost settles in the living room. you corner the scotsman in the bunker’s tiny gym.

you linger in the doorway, fixated on the dark shapes under soap’s armpits. his mohawk sags, beads of sweat streaking over the freshly shorn hair. down his flexing muscles. and the grunting, christ. it’s a peek into heaven, which makes ruining it difficult.

without a word, you plop onto the other bench and take up the clarinet you found in your room. channeling the gusto of gus polinski, you wet your lips. how hard can it be? you don’t know polka, but you know rossini.

soap’s head snaps at the opening notes, nearly fumbling a pair of dumbbells, his face a flurry of anger, amusement, and annoyance. it’s a valiant effort, his ignoring you, but in the end, you only make it halfway through your best attempt at the william tell overture before he cracks. he rips the instrument from your hands and tosses it aside. he stands over you, smelly and slick, breathing heavily through his nose. 

you end up dragging him to your room.

soap is the definition of a romp in the sheets. a no-holds-barred deathmatch. it’s the first dick you’ve caught in months, and what a reintroduction. a miracle the bed survives. he starts with his mouth sealed to your clit, tongue working like it’s making up for lost time, as if your cunt and his face go way back. it’s refreshing, but you saw how fast he dropped to his knees for gaz.

two orgasms slip out by the time he wrenches off his damp clothes, chin glistening and eyes glittering. he goes cross-eyed the second his dick slaps against your folds, and you laugh at his desperate groaning when he sinks in. though, your laughs are choked off by his sudden, furious thumbing of your clit. (you punch him in the stomach—ignoring the filthy moan that elicits—and hiss out, “a genie isn’t gonna come out, stop fucking rubbing so hard!”) he ends up coming on your stomach and contorts to lick it off, muttering little gratitudes into your skin. it’s…cute. kind of gross, but cute. you kick him out after a power nap.

soap’s a wash. ba-dum tish. try, try again.

you set your sights on gaz. he’s tricky.

it quickly becomes apparent he’s the best at scavenging. smug about it, too, which you leverage. his ego’s easy enough to feed despite his unease. all it takes is batting your lashes and complimenting his hauls.

amazing. this must be the last jar of berbere ever.

pads? for me? so considerate, i’m stunned.

a mostly intact game of monopoly? wow, here, i thought we were done with landlords and taxes.

it’s simple. you begin with small requests. toothpicks. socks. lip balm. when he returns, he drops the goods in your lap like a cat with a mouse. stares at you with those pretty eyes while you lay it on thick. 

you escalate. either he’ll die on your absurd fetch quests or go crazy trying to fulfill them. brand new period panties. a specific type of hair dye. unopened baby lotion. naturally, he can’t find any of them. he still delivers approximations—granny pants, food coloring, and half a bottle of moisturizer—with a hopeful smile you crush under feigned hums of disappointment. ah, well, if this is the best you can do. it chips away at him. his smiles tighten.

you figure he’ll make a dumb mistake on his next outing out of some fucked desperation, and you’ll be down a roach. but after you tell him to keep an unopened pack of nail varnish because they aren’t your colors, he loses it. this time, you’re dragged to bed.

gaz pins you to the mattress, one hand on your throat and the other shoved into your leggings. pupils blown to the point where they’re shark-like. you’d spare a thought for all the poor creatures dead in aquarium tanks across the globe if he wasn’t hellbent on shoving a third finger in.

“so bloody irritating,” gaz seethes. “spoiled and greedy. have you always been a brat, or am i special?”

you spend your ration of oxygen wisely. “i think you think you’re special.”

for that, your knees meet your chest, and your pussy nearly chokes his dick. or so he tells you, pure filth spewing from his mouth. you giggle madly through the slight pinch of pain, mirroring the feral grin on his face. he’s big, and you could be wetter, but you’re not on your back for good behavior. he’s happy to tell you about that, too. how awful you are.

disappointingly, it doesn’t take long for him to lose his grasp on language. a shame, given his shit talk. 

he bats your hand away from your clit when you try to coax your orgasm along. clicks his tongue, eyes half-mast, and smirks. “gonna be good? gonna thank me?” 

in another world, you’d nod. whatever you say, beautiful. in this world, however, you flip the bird, and he flips you.

gaz pants like a bull, pulling you back onto his cock with an iron grip on your hips. his hand comes down across your ass, but there’s this je ne sais quoi missing. it’s the thought that counts, you guess.

after he makes a mess, you fully expect gaz to continue his tirade. instead, he finds a towel. he rolls you over and tucks you in. thanks you. it’s a shame memoirs are meaningless now as the perfect title comes to mind: ‘bunker bumping: backshots in the apocalypse’.

okay. zero for two. historically, settling for 50% isn’t unlike you. 

back at the drawing board, you reevaluate. annoying the men to death hasn’t worked, and they’re exceptionally durable in dogshit conditions. each day, they get closer to rigging the equipment necessary to contact their ‘friends’, seemingly unperturbed by your efforts. in fact, they seem more comfortable. at home. they poke around the utility room to assess what needs maintenance or improvement. the nerve.

it’s untenable. no matter what that dumb voice in your head insists, you miss solitude. miss not having an audience. you want to watch leon and the silence of the lambs without commentary. dance naked. leave the toilet door open. 

you withdraw.

the bedroom becomes your bunker within the bunker. you take meals alone. painstakingly move your puzzles and hoard books. shower at night after they go to bed. ignore them in the halls. keep your mouth shut when someone addresses you. it’s a fruitless endeavor, keeping your head in the sand, but a part of you hopes if you become as unobtrusive as possible, they’ll forget you exist. after all, they have each other. they put those squeaky single beds through the wringer.

problem is, you don’t account for scragglebeard himself. nosy fucker. 

it happens on shower night. towel-clad and testy, you trudge from the bathrooms and find your door open. you freeze in the hall, hearing clinking sounds and lowered voices. gaz and soap emerge, ferrying dishes and dirty clothes, not sparing so much as a glance. your stomach twists, immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario. they’re reclaiming the space, and they’re finally going to kill you.

unfortunately, it’s not so simple.

“whatever this is,” john sternly says the second you enter the room, “we’re going to fix it.”

ghost traipses past, arms full of unopened cans and more dishware. you glare at his back, then turn to john.

“get the fuck out.”

he chuckles. “sweetheart, what’s not clickin’? this isn’t just your shelter anymore.”

“got it,” ghost reenters, a roll of duct tape held aloft. 

well. you had a nice run. sure, the calamity was a setback, but considering you probably lasted longer than everyone you ever hated, present company aside, that’s a tick in the win column. 

however, ghost doesn’t bind your limbs or cover your mouth. he crouches at the ventilation shaft connecting our rooms, rips off several pieces of tape, and covers most of the grid. “you fuckin’ talk in your sleep.” he points at the small hole he left uncovered and stands. “my bed’s right through ‘ere. it’s fuckin’ unsettlin’.” grumbling, he shuffles out once more.

john’s not shy about scanning you from top to bottom, but apparently, he doesn’t like what he sees. he turns away. “what are we missing?”

you pick through what’s left of your clean clothes. “loaded question.” poking your head through a shirt, you shimmy the towel to your hips.

“where else would you find a clarinet?”

“up your–” he glares over his shoulder, and you smile sweetly. “there’s a small storage space in the closet here. it’s empty now.”

“we found the surveillance room and utilities. it stands to reason that there are others.” john scratches his chin, watching you like a hawk as you pull on shorts. 

“oh. you think?”

“i do.”

“well, think outside of my room. i’m going to bed.” you move to the bed and listen to john close the distance. he hovers, his breath hitting your neck in an exasperated huff. it sends a shiver down your spine. you bet he’s got what gaz was missing—experience behind the swing of his palm.

“like it or not, sweetheart, we’re sticking around. now, i’d prefer it if we kept things civil. based on what the boys told me, i know you’re capable of being friendly.”

it’s not the smartest decision in the world, wheeling on a man trained to kill. he catches your wrist as it winds up and twists it sharply behind your back. with one solid push, you get a mouthful of linen as your body promptly hinges at the waist. an angry string of obscenities gets lost in the sheets. you’ve never been so humiliated. or breathtakingly aroused.

john tuts.

“bad call, badger.”

[farfromsugafanfic]

SKZ Reaction To Being Caught Making Out

Genre: fluff, suggestiveness (not straight smut but Imma go ahead and say MDNI)

Warnings: curse words, suggestive themes

A/N: Enjoy!

Chan:

When Changbin accidentally walked in on you and Chan mid-make-out in his studio, Chan would have conflicting reactions and emotions. On the one hand, he is definitely surprised and stops kissing you. He may even weirdly try to hide you regardless of whether Changbin knows about your relationship. However, there's also a tiny bit of pride hidden in his chest, but it is superseded by the obvious blush that spreads from his cheeks and up to his ears.

Minho:

Embarrassed, but doesn't show it immediately. When Seungmin walks in, he'll act dramatically and yell at him to leave (though it's obviously not malicious). If Seungmin giggles or smirks at the scene, he'll make some baseless threat, but by the time Seungmin leaves, his ears are bright red. Minho will get up and lock the door quickly. Before continuing where you left off, the two of you will probably laugh and promise to buy Seungmin a meal later.

Changbin:

Binnie might like to put out a "dark" and "hard" era, but this man would be capital E embarrassed. I imagine him trying to act as if it wasn't happening and asking Hyunjin what he needed. He would only get angry if there had been an expectation of full privacy (locked door, etc.) or if things had escalated to the point of removing some clothing. Mostly, he would just want to forget it happened and would probably keep your future make out sessions in private, locked spaces.

Hyunjin:

Surprisingly, normally dramatic Hyunjin isn't too embarrassed. He might be a bit surprised, but he doesn't really get the big deal when Jeongin walks in and catches the two of you making out. Hyunjin is a romantic and kissing is fairly casual to him (think of all his paintings and sketches of couples kissing), and even though you were a bit more hot and heavy, he doesn't really care as long as the two of you were clothed. With that said, he will make sure you and Jeongin are not too embarrassed. But, overall, he's fairly nonplussed which surprises you.

Jisung:

In contrast to Hyunjin, Jisung flips the fuck out. He's not angry, but his face is bright red and he'll even hide himself in your neck when Felix catches the two of you. He probably won't even say anything and Felix will probably end up just apologizing and leaving the room quickly. Poor Jisung will probably be mortified for the rest of the day. Eventually, he will be able to laugh about it, and may even get more used to smaller public displays of affection. Still, it doesn't stop him from leaning down and kissing you again.

Felix:

Felix is also a member who doesn't really see the big deal. I mean, he'd rather not be caught by Changbin, but it doesn't embarrass him really. Sure, Changbin might tease him a bit, but the members all knew that he was head over heels for you, so he basically just shrugged it off. He will make sure you aren't too embarrassed and if you are, he'll privately talk to Changbin later to make sure he doesn't mention it around you. I don't think he would necessarily restart the make out, but instead, just wrap you in his arms and watch a movie.

Seungmin:

This puppy does not get embarrassed easily. But when it comes to you, he, for some reason, blushes even if a member just mentions your name. So, when Minho walks in on you two, Seungmin becomes half protective of you and half embarrassed by wrapping his arms around you, but you can also feel the heat coming off his face. He'll probably be polite and ask Minho to leave, even though anger started to settle in. Still, he keeps a level head but is unable to continue because he doesn't want to get caught again.

Jeongin:

He's not the most embarrassed of the group, but his shy smile and the way he looks down tell you that Chan walking in startled him. But, while embarrassed due to the situation, he's willing to face pretty much anything for you, even negative emotions. Though, his hyungs tease him enough that after a few hours, he's mostly moved on. Still, from that day forward, he's much more careful.