#i cant stand on my right leg now and my ribs on the right side H U R T

[risingsunresistance]

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

---

Chapter Ten: Reconciliation

Now Playing: Atlantis by Seafret

Warning: mentions of alcohol, mentions of death, mentions of violence while drunk, mentions of messy divorce, mentions of gambling, mentions of severe depression, mentions of fighting, lmk if I missed anything please! Also, there’s nothing super explicit, just my interpretation of Paul’s backstory as he explains to reader

I was lounging on the couch watching crappy movies today. Paul and Seth had joined me as the others were either on patrol or helping Emily shop. I was laying on the couch, my head propped against the arm. Paul had lifted my feet when he walked over after switching patrols with Jared, and sat down before putting my legs back over his lap. Seth was sprawled out on the floor, his hair neatly pulled back from when I did his hair earlier.

After a while, Emily came back with the boys and her groceries and we started to put them away.

Midway through, Jacob bounded in with my sister in tow.

“Look at that,” Paul crooned, “Bella’s come back home! You get sick of the leeches yet, or did they get sick of you?”

I smacked him hard in the ribs as I pushed past him, standing with my arms crossed in front of my sister. She looked down at her shoes, and I waited in icy silence.

“Why don’t you come help us put away the rest of the groceries, Jacob?” Sam asked pointedly, “Give the Swan sisters some time to… catch up.”

He hastily followed direction, almost tripping over to the kitchen. I didn’t watch him go.

“Edward told me about Victoria and the treaty,” she blurted out, “Jacob said the same thing.”

I watched her in silence.

“Do you, um, know what they’re going to do about it?” She asked, glancing up to look me in the eyes.

“Paul told me.” I responded shortly, watching her expression. Unable to resist, I asked, “Did Edward tell you?”

She paused, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” I said, waving her off, “Just that he seems so reluctant to tell you anything until it’s nearly too late. Or until he gets a nudge from someone else.”

“Jacob—” she started, cut off by a sharp laugh.

“Jake wasn’t the one to talk Edward into telling the truth,” Paul said, his voice filled with mocking pity. His arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. I watched my sister put it together, turning to me looking almost hurt.

“Why did you not tell me?” She asked, and I scoffed.

“Edward knew before I did, and yet he only told you when I threatened to do exactly that, Bella.” I responded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “He put you in this mess, and yet he’s still the one acting like you don’t have a right to know.”

She was silent before she switched the topic.

“It’s been a while since I was over here,” she said slowly, “How’s everyone doing?”

“Good.” I said flatly, “That’s the answer you’re looking for, right? Anything else would make you feel guilty because you wouldn’t pull your head out of Edward’s ass long enough to think about it.”

She glared at me for a moment, her hands clenched at her side. She took a deep breath, angrily telling me, “So, what, Y/n? Huh? You want me away from Edward, but you don’t want me here? Which is it, because you cant have both!”

“It doesn’t really matter what I want, does it?” I bite back, aware that everyone in the kitchen was listening closely. “You didn’t ask me when you decided to have a vote on what happens to your soul, did you?”

She opens her mouth to respond, but I barrel on, “You didn’t ask me how I felt when you started bringing that sparkly piece of shit—”

“Don’t talk about him like that!” She interrupted, and I just laughed.

“Oh course that’s what you care about!” I mocked, still laughing. I felt hollow, betrayed. All my simmering emotions from the last few months were coming to the surface, bubbling over finally.

“You’re only here because Edward’s on a hunting trip, Bella.” I spat, watching her expression shift to surprise, then guilt.

“Stay or go, Bella, I don’t care.” I sighed, “But make up your mind. None of us want to be strung along as a backup family for when your feelings get hurt by Edward and his coven of blood suckers.”

I turned, about to walk past Paul when he held his arm up, spinning me around to his chest and pushing me to the door.

“We’re gonna go to the beach.” He said, guiding me firmly to the door. I gave him an annoyed look, but he just pinched my side and kept me moving. When I tried to dig my heels in, he picked me up and carried me like it was nothing.

I suppose my weight was nothing to him, since he could pick up any of the others in their wolf forms. According to Quil, he was strong as a a regular person, and that strength was only amplified after the transformation.

He put me in my truck, pulling my keys from my purse and staring it up.

“Why are we going to the beach?” I asked him tonelessly, sort of grateful that he had made the decision. I had grown protective of everyone in the house, they were just as much my family as the people related to me through blood were. Bella choosing Edward and his family over not only me, but them as well after everything they did to help her when Edward left her for dead agitated me.

“I have a short temper,” he said, “I know when someone’s gonna blow. And you, Y/n Swan, needed to be out of there before you did.”

He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes, the side of his lip curling into a smirk, “And I don’t think you’re the type to take hostages.”

I huffed out a small laugh, leaning back in my seat to draw my knees up to my chest.

We got to the beach and sat in the can of the truck, watching the gulls. I was quiet; I didn’t feel like arguing with him and I was slightly afraid that that’s what would happen if I opened my mouth.

“I’m not good with emotions.” He said abruptly, staring at the water, “I don’t know how to express them, other than through anger.”

I was quiet as he took a breath to continue, “I— It’s stupid to say, but Sam’s the only man I’ve ever looked up to as a father, even if he’s only a few years older than I am. I didn’t have an outstanding father like Jacob, or Embry, or Seth and Leah. He was always physically there, unlike Quil’s dad, but he was never mentally with me.”

I turned my head to look at him, resting it on my arms where they sat on my knees.

He continued, “My parents divorced when I was eight. It was messy. My mom took off for the other side of the country as soon as she could, and my dad moved in with my grandma here.”

I watched the side of his face, observing every minuscule expression he made. I watched the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks when he closed his eyes to take a deep breath, watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“My dad was depressed. Mom was tired of carrying him around, so she left after falling in love with a coworker. He got so bad after she left us that he stopped going to work. He turned to drinking and gambling.” His voice was steady, but his hands were tensing and un-tensing as he spoke, messing with the hem of his shirt.

He continued, “He wasn’t a bad drunk, not really. He never hit me or Granny, just yelled a lot. He would break things sometimes, throw them around.”

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat. The AC made his hair flutter.

“He wasn’t the worst,” he said, “He wasn’t the best. I had to look up to older kids for what to do, and they were always fighting, so that’s what I did. Got into my first fight in sixth grade, Granny nearly beat my ass she was so mad. Made me wash dishes for a month.”

Again, he swallowed thickly. I watched the motion of it, my eyes trailing back to his. At this angle, they were almost jet black. The clouds moved, and they turned the color of coffee, shining and rich.

“Dad was always one extreme or the other,” he continued, “He was either a zombie, like Bella was, or he was drunk out of his mind yelling. He only got worse after Granny died.”

He was quiet for a long moment before adding, “She passed when I was fourteen. I had to get a job to try and pay the bills since Dad never worked. Granny owned her house and left it to us, but that was the extent of our luck. Sometimes we were without hot water or electricity. The school gave me lunches, and I scrounged up dinner from the place I worked at.”

“I changed when I was sixteen, two years ago, now.” He glanced at me, quickly looking away. “Sam and Jared are probably the only reasons I’m still here. Alive or in Forks, I can’t tell.”

He took another breath, “Emily and Sam kept telling me to just talk to you. I felt like every time I tried, I would end up saying something stupid and pissing you off more. Emily says I self sabotage. Sam says I’m emotionally constipated. I’m sure both are true.”

He trailed off, and I took this as a chance to speak.

I leaned over, putting my head on his shoulder.

“I know.” I said simply, watching the gulls play as I thought about what Emily had told me all those months ago. “I didn’t at first, but I do now. I know.”

He swallowed, and I felt him take a deep breath in. Slowly, he leaned his head against mine, and we sat in silence and watched the sun set over the waves.

I had the feeling that he still wasn’t telling me everything, but this was more than enough for now. I was content with this step into healing.

———

Ok guys another short-ish chapter and more info about Paul! I had googled his family life and didn’t really find much, but what I ended up going with was a theory I had seen. I think I’m going to have him go more in depth about it and probably also have reader lore drop about Charlie and Renee’s tumultuous relationship, too, and her worries for Bella bc of it (maybe that’ll lead to a convo w Edward, too)

Anyway!! Hope yall enjoyed and if yall have any requests lmk!!

Bye-bye!! ☺️

(Also the long weekend is over for me so I’m probs gonna slow down on posting and it’ll be like one post a day type thing and I might write them all over the weekend and schedule them to come out each day so I don’t forget but idk yet)

[scp-tiggles]

Scp 073

40% ler | 60% lee

As a ler:

Okay so, surprisingly he’s very merciful as a ler, makes sure the lee is okay with tickles, offers aftercare, etc.

Rarely ever uses his own hands to tickle lees, he prefers using plants! As per this au, his withering effect is replaced with chlorokinesis!

While he’s more gentle with tickles, he WILL tease a lee to the hells and back, he cant help it!

“My, is something wrong? You’re awfully giggly!” “Is something funny? Is there something on my face? It’s quite rude to laugh someone, you know..” “Oh, don’t touch this is a spot? Right here? Are you sure? I mean, you’re laughing so much, it seems perfect!” Being his favorite ones.

During breaches, it’s best to stay clear of the garden area where cain resides. As the second those alarms go off, cain will drop whatever He’s doing to join the fun!

Staff wise, his hands are rated E for everyone. Nobody is safe. But anomaly wise, his favorite target is Abel. (Or, scp 076-2!)

As a lee

Firstly, absolutely adores being tickled, and pretty much everyone on site knows this. He’s touch starved damnit!

His laugh too..its the most precious thing, speaking of, if someone ever calls it cute he gets all flustered and starts hiding his face in his hands <3

His worst spots are his belly, ribs, and back. Mainly his belly though.

Now, the feather material on his shirt around his neck isn’t just for show, it’s his own way of tickling himself .

Speaking of, his plants can and WILL wreck him.

Cannot STAND light tickles, folds immediately at the slightest graze over one of his spots.

Feathers are insta death for him oml

The longer he’s been tickled, the squeakier his laugh gets. Almost like a squeaky toy!

Scp 073-2 instances

100% ler | 0% lee

(By the way, the image is only SOME instances. Theres multiple of various entities, including fruits, vegetables, etc)

As lers:

Okay, so as a collective, you’re screwed. Period. These little guys FEED of laughter and show no mercy till they get their fill

Azalea’s, Like to group up and flutter against any skin visible. Mainly necks in an attempt to make a person fall, and then usually let the other plants nearby do the rest of the work.

Snapdragons are a bit more mischievous, will wrap vines around a persons ankles and then pull them into shrubbery, nipping, licking, and nuzzling wherever! Their teeth, of course, don’t hurt. And their ‘heads’ are fuzzy to where its pretty ticklish with nuzzles. And, fun fact, are the only plants that can be distracted by chin scratches!

Lily of the valleys aren’t attached to vines like most of the plants, rather they hop off their vine and run around in search of a victim, hence why they travel in a pair of two or more. Once they do, they climb up the persons legs and get under their shirt, scribbling their tiny hands against the belly and sides, occasionally moving to avoid any attempts at stopping them!

Spider lilies, are a special kind. They’ll entrap a victim in their webs, vines with a sticky sap, and then proceed to crawl over the victim, tickling with the four large feathery petals on its body!

Extra! (For both 073 and 073-2)

The plants adore cain, and more often then not will tickle him if he generally just seems sad and in need of a pick me up.

Cain is classified as a ‘creator’ entity, this is a au feature (that i’d love to explain more if asked!).

Cain and Abel USED to share the cell, but got separated for two reasons, one, abel and him loved teaming up when wrecking staff, and two, the plants loved to wreck abel. (The first reason is the main one, but since they kept targetting abel, d-class experiments rarely worked.)

The plants, while laughter is their main source of food, can also photosynthesize and “eat” sugar water!

Cain, much like 035, doesn’t need laughter to eat. Rather its just a better energy boost for him that sleep cannot always provide.

Some of the plants move their heads rapidly to signify excitement, a move they learned from cain while seeing him stim!

Speaking of, he’s on the spectrum..and is super knowledgeable about literally any plant

You can ask him about the most uncommon, unknown plant in the world and he’ll give you all the information you could ever need.

Cain, has a small crop bed for fruits and vegetables, which he gladly gives to the cafeteria in exchange for flower seeds!

Speaking of flowers, he loves making flower crowns, which he loves to give to staff (and other anomalies)!

[delimeful]

you cant go back (2)

warnings: fear, miscommunication, guilt, mentions of theoretical gore/injury, dehumanization, referring to a person as 'it', general angst

-

For the fourth day in a row, Lady Macbeth had spurned him.

Roman frowned, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his head and tossing it over the back of a kitchen chair.

Lady was old, smug, and occasionally very cranky, but she wasn’t deaf like Ophelia-- she always came prancing over once she heard his keys rattling in the lock, delighted at the opportunity to smear cat hair all over his pants and get her claws stuck in his shoelaces.

Yet here he stood, catless.

For the past few days, too, she hadn’t been in the house at all when he got home. He’d been downright worried that first day, uneasy until she strolled back in at dusk.

They had an expansive backyard that their younger cats took delight in frolicking in, but their second-oldest cat was a rare visitor to the outdoors. Lady was first and foremost a homebody, and she preferred a warm body to sit on. Their squishy heat-generating human bodies were the only reason she hadn’t assassinated them all in their sleep by now, according to--

Roman cut the thought off sharply, feeling familiar grief pit up in his throat. He shook his head, the motion harsh enough to make his neck twinge. There was no time for standing about and pondering! He had a cat to locate!

A determined jut to his chin, he grabbed what supplies he would need for this perilous journey-- cat treats, a catnip toy, even a tempting cardboard box-- and strode confidently out the backdoor.

For the next half-hour, he wandered around the acres of their property, greeting each of the goats and chickens by name as he checked all the most common cat hidey-holes.

He’d almost given up by the time he stumbled across the old barn, pant legs covered in burrs and the beginnings of a sunburn across the back of his neck. Whatever delightful cat secrets Lady was so busy with, surely he could discover them when it wasn’t the middle of summer.

Just before he could turn around, though, he noticed that one of the doors was just slightly ajar.

Roman felt his brow gradually scrunch up the longer he stared at it. It had been locked up after the last of the old supplies had been moved from it, hadn’t it? The last big storm had proved it wasn’t weather-worthy, his dad had plans to take it apart for timber, ones that had seemingly been forgotten after… afterwards.

Petty inconveniences of getting there forgotten, Roman crept closer on light feet, grip tight on the catnip mouse in his hand. The wind died down at an eerily perfect moment, and he strained to hear beyond those old wooden walls.

Not everything is a grand conspiracy, a voice in his head reminded him, sounding suspiciously similar to Specs, it could simply be someone without housing that took the opportunity for shelter provided by the abandoned barn.

Roman sidled halfway through the ajar door, and froze at the sight of an upright humanoid figure only a few meters away. Something about it wasn't right, instantly putting him on edge. He kept staring, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

(“I’m telling you, these lights were strange even by my standards! Almost… alien.” An unsettling grin that was a beat late.)

The figure’s head was dropped forward, but he could tell even from this distance that it wasn’t human, with shiny purple-grey segmented skin and legs with knees facing the wrong way. It had spiky shoulder joints, but its arms seemed to be tucked behind it.

(Roman had shoved him off the couch, sour about being taken in by one of his tales, and he hadn’t brought it up again.)

Most alarming of all, there were four long, spindly limbs stretched out into the air behind it, seemingly spawning from its back. The legs were spider-like in nature, but shiny instead of hairy, and each one ended in a sharp point. As he watched, he could see the limbs shifting slowly, pairs of them lifting and falling in odd synchrony with the creature’s slow breathing.

(Roman had been freaked out, and his brother had dropped the subject. He should’ve asked, he should have known something was wrong--)

“Miaow.” A plaintive voice called, nearly startling Roman out of his skin.

He tore his gaze away from the (alien) mystery intruder, and felt his jaw drop as he took in Lady Macbeth’s current position. Loafing on the feet of an insidious intruder?!

For shame, he mouthed silently at her.

Lady blinked slowly and continued to purr, unbothered by his accusatory stare. One of those spider limbs shifted again, making Roman swallow nervously. He really didn’t want to see what sort of automatic reaction an extraterrestrial’s stabby-arms would have to finding a cat in its space.

He waved the catnip mouse enticingly. Lady gave him the bland look of a cat who had preferred those expensive feather toys for as long as he had known her. Roman resisted the urge to facepalm.

The insanely dangerous method it was, then.

Putting all his sneaking skills to use, he sidled further into the barn, dropping into a crouch and beginning to creep across the dirt floor as slowly as possible. Each step was carefully placed, almost entirely silent, and whenever those freaky appendages twitched, he froze in place for a full thirty seconds.

The alien’s head remained lax (asleep?) as he drew closer, but Lady refused to entertain his desperate motions for her to leave her ill-chosen bed. At this rate, he’d have to pick her up off of it, and hope that she didn’t complain too much on the way out.

He shifted his weight forwards, and suddenly all four of the arms were still, almost taut in the air. Only a couple feet away, the alien’s head bobbed slightly. His time was up.

Clenching his teeth, Roman made a gamble.

He tossed the little mouse toy directly at the space above the alien’s head and dove for Lady.

There was a whistle, like a whip or an arrow sliding through the air, and Roman made the mistake of glancing up as soon as he had his hands securely around Lady’s body.

All four of the spider limbs had jabbed into the same point, skewering the toy from several different angles. The alien was certainly awake now, and it had four times as many eyes as any one person could reasonably need. Between one heartbeat and the next, those huge dark irises went from staring at the poor mutilated toy to staring at Roman.

Terror shot through him and he gave up on subtlety, throwing himself back as hard as he could and hoping that he made it out of range.

He landed on his back with a whomp that knocked the wind out of him, and flinched as that terrifying whistling sound split the air again, ending in a muted thump. He was so wired with adrenaline that he couldn’t tell if he’d been hit or not. Locked in his arms, Lady writhed and complained loudly.

“Not going anywhere,” Roman wheezed, “you little fiend, con-- consorting with the enemy.”

There were several more whistle-thumps, which was either very good or very bad for him. He rolled to his side, pushing himself up on an elbow and taking stock of himself, braced for the worst.

The alien was still standing there against the central support beam of the barn. Half a foot from Roman’s leg, it's very sharp extra arms had left holes pierced in the hard-packed dirt of the barn’s floor.

“But no holes in me,” Roman cheered weakly, and then shifted Lady to the crook of one arm and flipped the alien off. “Nice try, Space Invader.”

The alien made a deep clicking rumble, but stopped trying to impale him. Instead, it moved to hold all those limbs high up in the air menacingly, ready to stab down at any point. The remains of the toy mouse sat near its feet, cotton innards spilling everywhere like a grim warning.

Roman got to his own feet, wincing at the feeling of Lady’s claws poking into his ribs as she attempted to kick her way to freedom. He took a moment to stare once he was back upright.

The alien’s skin plates had gone completely pitch-black, only the slightest hints of purple between the plates to prove that there’d ever been any color to it at all. Roman was abruptly glad that he hadn’t encountered it in the dark of night.

Its eyes were just as dark, with only the slightest difference in shades of black to indicate the difference between iris and sclera. Despite his artistic eye for color differences, even Roman couldn’t tell where its pupils were. If it even had pupils.

It also was still stuck in one place, despite its legs seeming totally operational. Roman slowly shuffled to the side of it, making sure to keep a few good steps clear of stabbing range, and found that it did in fact have normal arms and hands.

Well. Mostly normal. There were five fingers, but they were all way too long and ended in thick, claw-like points. He thought they also maybe had one or two too many joints.

More to the point, the alien couldn’t do anything with these arms because they were bound together at the wrists and tied tightly to the central support beam of the barn. It was stuck there, and going by the aggressive rumbling it was doing, it knew it.

Roman pulled out his phone and managed to take a shaky video of the alien, circling around it to both get a better angle and prompt it to threateningly twitch those back limbs some more. He knew his sci fi tropes, including the one where the alien mysteriously disappears the moment the plucky protagonist tries to tell anyone about the danger. He wasn’t going to be called crazy again.

Once he was content with the amount of evidence he had, he made the trek back to the house at a near-sprint, the cat in his arms protesting all the way. He burst through the back door, letting the screen fall shut behind him, and finally allowed Lady to walk on the power of her own four paws. She beelined for the screen door, stood up on her hind legs, and rattled it expectantly.

“Absolutely not,” Roman told her firmly, nudging her away. “I don’t know what it is with you and courting death via Xenomorph, but you are henceforth banned from the outdoors.”

If angry little kitty looks could kill, Roman would be as dead as King Duncan.

Shaking his head, he went over to the ancient landline phone in their kitchen, lifted the phone from its cradle, and paused.

Who was he going to call?

He’d had some half-conceived notion of calling his parents, or that infuriating police officer, or even just 911. What would he even say? ‘Hello operator, my emergency is that I have an alien in my barn, I promise this isn’t a prank’? Even the dial tone wouldn’t believe that.

And what if they did get someone out here to verify that there was a real alien? There was little doubt in his mind that law enforcement and then the government would quickly step in, whisking the evil version of E.T. away into some distant Area 51 lab. Roman would never see it-- or get any answers from it-- ever again.

He hung the phone up with a solid click, and turned to face the kitchen.

If he was going to interrogate a hostile alien, he needed to arm himself.

---

Shockingly, when he returned to the barn, the alien was still there.

He had crept up quietly again, hoping to catch it unawares, but this time it had been staring unerringly at him from the moment he peeked through the door, those smaller, rounder eyes wide open under its main ones.

He pushed the door open further with a dramatic flourish, pretending like he hadn’t been sneaking at all.

“Alien scourge,” Roman greeted, wincing at the crack in his voice. He cleared his throat, ignoring the way the alien’s dark gaze sent chills down his spine. “I don’t know how you ended up here, but I do know that you’re going to give me the information that I need.”

He pointed the end of his weapon of choice for emphasis, and the alien recoiled with a hiss, quickly jabbing out at it with those back arms.

Just as he’d hoped, however, putting vegetable oil on the already-slick plastic handle of the kitchen broom had made it basically impossible for those single-pronged limbs to stab or grab it. He grinned triumphantly, poking the alien with the end of it. The playing field had officially been evened.

“Now, unless you want me to introduce you to the Earth concept of piñatas, you better tell me what you’re here for.”

The alien was entirely silent, watching him with those shiny, pitch-black eyes. Behind it, its spider arms were vibrating with tension, probably in preparation to stab out the moment he slipped up.

“I’m serious,” Roman warned, poking it a little harder and getting exactly nothing for his efforts, not even a glare. “I know what I saw that night, and there’s no way it’s a coincidence that now you’re here. It was an abduction."

He paused for effect, and the alien let out a series of clicks and low, warped sounds that sounded like meaningless nonsense.

"I don't speak alien." Roman frowned. "Tell me what happened. Why were you-- or, your-- your brethren or your shipmates or whatever, why were they taking people? Where did they take them?”

The alien made what sounded like the same exact series of noises. Roman groaned in frustration.

“In-- In English! You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? If aliens are real and have the technology to infiltrate Earth without being detected, they have to have some way of communicating! An insta-translator or telepathy or math nonsense or something!” He threw his arms out in frustration, making the alien twitch.

He paced back and forth for a moment, before coming to a stop in front of the alien again and leveling it with an accusatory stare. “You’re faking it. I don’t believe that you can’t understand me.”

The alien just kept staring at him, flat plates where its mouth should have been, not a single expression visible on its face. It was about as convinced by Roman’s argument as everyone else in his life, which was to say, not at all. He felt a surge of white-hot anger, and levered the broom at its neck threateningly.

“Tell me, right now!” he demanded, stinging tears building up at the corner of his eyes. “Tell me where my brother is!”

He shoved the broom further forwards, and the alien snapped its limbs forwards and knocked it away, startling him into stumbling back. It hissed at him again, stabbing at the ground like a warning. He scowled, swiping at his face with a sleeve, and swung the broom handle at it sharply.

The swing went wide, more than a foot from touching any of it, but the alien showed the closest thing to emotion he’d seen so far, half of its eyes flinching closed in anticipation. Roman felt a sickening twist in his gut, some odd mix of guilt, anger, and vindication, and he turned away sharply.

Not for the first time, he wished he’d been the one that had been taken.

Remus wouldn’t care if the stupid cops didn’t listen to him, if their parents didn’t believe him, if the whole town thought he was insane. He would know how to convince an alien to talk, would threaten to-- to crush its extra eyes or cut off limbs or do something Roman was too squeamish to even think up.

If it was Remus, it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t know what to do. He’d at least do something.

He wouldn’t be going through the motions of life like everything was the same.

Pretending had always been Roman’s specialty, after all.

Roman cast a furious glare over his shoulder at the alien, resentful that it was still staring at him even as he was in the middle of a breakdown, and tossed the broom into the corner.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, swallowing back the thickness in his voice, “and every day after that until you tell me.”

Threat delivered, he stormed out of the barn and slammed the doors shut behind him.

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.

[twordytings]

When It Comes to You

(Bucky x Reader)

Summary: You get drunk at a party that Steve has no idea about. Somehow, Bucky is always there to keep your worries at bay.

Word Count: 1,582

A/N: okay this was actually a sentence starter prompt from an anon, but I’ve had this in my drafts for a while now so I just decided to incorporate that prompt into this. Hope this is okay!!

You probably should’ve thought this one over. Well, going to a high school party seemed like a good idea in the moment, but now you weren’t too sure. And right now, you were drunk; drunk would be putting it lightly, actually. You told Steve you were going to a friend’s house, which, technically, you did. You just didn’t say why for obvious reasons. Mentioning the kegs of beer that would be available didn’t seem like a very important detail to add.

In all fairness, you were pretty good for a sixteen year old. This was your first party and all you wanted to do was enjoy being young while it lasted, no matter the obstacle; that obstacle being Steve, of course. Steve was your older brother, your best friend, but he definitely had his downsides, one of them being his brutal overprotectiveness. He would die before he’d let you go to a party, let alone one with alcohol.

Once you had arrived, one drink led to another, even though it tasted absolutely horrible, and that was that; there was quite literally no going back. It felt as though your head was spinning in every direction possible. The friend you came with decided it was time to take you home, so they helped you up from wherever you were - you couldn’t remember - and you had both started to walk home. Driving wasn’t an option, since you were both unfortunately drunk, and by the time you got home, it was midnight; not necessarily the Cinderella story you had dreamed of when you were younger.

As you stumbled toward the front door, you clumsily found your house key to unlock the door, almost tripping as you stepped inside. You squinted to see a worried Steve and even more worried Bucky look up from their seats on the couch, only to get up and walk straight toward you. This was gonna be bad.

“Heyyyyyy guyyyysssss.” You smiled cheekily as you looked up at the two. To put it plainly, they weren’t smiling.

“Where have you been. It’s midnight, y/n.” Steve said with the most serious look on his face, but you not being in control of yourself, found it oddly funny.

“Hahaha! Lighten up.” You said as you brought your hands up to squeeze his cheeks into a smile. “There ya goooo Mr. Grumpyface.”

He pulled your hands from his face and looked at Bucky in disbelief.

“Are yo- are you drunk?!” Bucky asked.

“Whaaaat? Psh no way!” You said as you waved your hand away from your face to show how crazy that idea was. It wasn’t.

“How much?” Steve asked.

“Uhhhh maybe uhhhh one...... orrrr two....... actually maybe 4 I dunno. Not that much though that’s for sure.” Nailed it.

“Not that much? Do you know how worried I was? How worried we were? You lied to me y/n, and got wasted with god knows who... I- I cant believe you right now!”

You had royally screwed up this time. You were also way too drunk to comprehend half of what Steve was even saying, so you stood there looking practically brain dead.

“- are you even listening to me right now?” Not one bit, you thought to yourself as a stood in front of the two men.

Your blank gaze made Steve realize he was probably being a little too much right now, considering the condition you were in, so he let it go for the time being. He sighed, “Forget it, just go to bed.”

Bucky offered to help you upstairs, which you desperately needed since you couldn’t tell your left from your right at the moment. As he was walking you he quietly said, “Just so you know, I’m not mad at you.” You smiled at that, but you also felt a gurgling in your stomach that told you you needed a toilet immediately.

You sprinted to the closest bathroom you could find, and that’s when everything, like, everything came out. It honestly felt really good to throw up, but Bucky definitely wasn’t appealed. He winced but came quickly to hold you hair back. As you finished with the disaster that was now inside of the toilet, you felt a bit more like yourself. “Ugh. Gross.” You said as you flushed the toilet. You then went over to the sink to splash some water on your face and was met with a sudden feeling of regret. “What have I done. Steve is so mad at me.” You said as you threw your face into your palms. Bucky was unconsciously rubbing your back the entire time.

“Hey. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Just think of it as a learning lesson. I’m sure you were just trying to have fun... and then things happened to take their own course.” You nodded, but not understandably.

“No! That’s exactly where your wrong, Buck. I cant stand it when Steve is upset with me,” you huffed, placing your head back in your hands. You were just as disappointed with yourself as Steve was. There was a reason why you hadn’t done anything like this before: Steve taught you. The fact that what you had just done probably completely diminished any and all trust you had with him, was slowly beginning to creep over you. “He probably hates me now,” you uttered through your hands.

“Hey hey hey! Don’t say something like that!” Bucky scolded, holding you up a bit and walking you over to your bed to then sit down beside you. “Listen,” he said sharply, pulling you by your chin so you were looking at him, “the only reason why he acted the way he did was because he cares about you. Bug, he loves you more than anything... even more than me, and I’ve been his best friend since high school!” You furrowed your eyebrows at that; Bucky has been best friends with Steve for so long; how could he love you more?

“Really?” you said skeptically.

“Yes. I know I’ve been his best bud for a while, but time doesn’t mean anything to him when it comes to you. He could never, ever hate you. I need you to understand that,” he said to you with a serious, yet tender smile. You were taken aback by that. You knew Steve loved you, but you didn’t know it was to such a large extent. He was pretty hard on you most of the time, which made sense as to why you had never really figured it out.

You hummed in response, just barely moving one side of your mouth to show him you understood.

“Can you smile for me?” he said, having to move his head down to look at you in the eye.

“Not now Bucky...” you spoke as you looked all the way down, fiddling with your fingers.

“Guess I’ll have to do it for you,” he said casually, pushing you down on the bed and clawing his digits into your stomach.

“BUHUHUHUCK! NOHOHO!” you squealed, bubbly giggles spurting from you like hiccups.

“All you gotta do is smile...,” he sang as he grinned widely from ear to ear. You knew he was probably only doing this to cheer you up after just being yelled at, but the alcohol in you wasn’t going to let him have it too easily, so you tried your hardest to suck in your lips, keeping them tightly pressed between your teeth.

“Wooow, you want it that bad huh?” Bucky grinned evilly, knowing that you had just given him the opportunity to go in for the kill. He then pulled you towards him so he could sprawl his legs across yours, shaking his hands into your ribs in a flash. You felt like you were about to explode, given the fact that you were practically screaming through your nose as to not crack a smile. “Still nothing? Okay...,” he said as he cracked his neck and knuckles, then pulling your shirt up and blowing a huge raspberry right in the center of your stomach.

“HAHAHAHA! OKAHAHAHAY IHI GIHIHIVE I GIVE!” you yelled in defeat.

“Smile,” he threatened as he hovered over your limp form. You followed with an all too exaggerated smile.

“There,” you said as you switched to a straight face, “ya happy now?” you rolled your eyes as you yawned widely.

“I’m only happy if you’re happy doll. Now get some rest, you’re probably gonna have to hear what I said all over again from Steve tomorrow.” You groaned at that as you slipped under your covers.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he sympathized, walking over to the door of your bedroom to shut off the lights.

“Wait! Can you- maybe... sleep here?” you asked hesitantly. Neither Steve or Bucky had slept in your bed with you for a while now, so you were afraid he might think it was odd considering you were now a teenager.

“Who said I was leaving?” he said almost offendedly, running up to your bed and throwing himself beside you, pulling you towards him as he snuggled you tightly, making you giggle a bit. “G’night bug,” Bucky said softly as he kissed the top of your head.

“Night Buck.” He just barely heard you over the weight of tiredness that quickly overtook you; you weren’t excited about what tomorrow might bring with Steve and all, but you were satisfied with the fact that you had Bucky’s support, and for that reason, it made no sense to be worried.

[13uswntimagines]

Her Mess (Christen x Reader)

Request: Christen x reader where reader is younger and in college and reader meets the team

It was safe to say that you had always been a bit of a mess. You would argue that you were an organized mess, but Christen would disagree. If the gay mess you turned into the first time Mal had ever introduced you to her was anything to go off of. Yes, you were a mess, but you were her mess, and she took great joy in helping to keep you on track. 

From the very beginning, she had helped you with your schedule. Made sure you ate and gave yourself time for studying and soccer. She never overstepped, she was your girlfriend not your mother after all, but she was definitely the organized one in your relationship. 

It was why the prospect of traveling without her was incredibly daunting. She was already at camp with the rest of the national team (who you would be meeting for the first time) and you would be meeting them there with Mal after the two of you finished finals. To say you were nervous was an understatement. It was your first call up, and though your girlfriend and best friend had assured you it would be fine, you weren’t so sure. You had quadruple checked the list of things Christen and you had made, but even as you left the plane you were sure you had left something important. You were going to meet the team and you didn’t know if you were supposed to be meeting Christen too, or if you two were going, to be honest. 

You sighed, running your hand through your messy hair, before slipping your beanie back on. Your knee jumped up and down impatiently, and you bit your lip. You didn’t like waiting. Why did this car ride have to be so long?

“Do I need to call Mama Press or are you going to chill out on your own?” Mal said finally, her hand coming down to still your leg. You grinned sheepishly at her. 

“I just-... What if they don’t like me, and what if they’re weirded out by the age difference?” You rambled, your fingers tapping on the car window. 

“You’re like the funniest person I know. The team is going to love you! And I’ll be honest, It was a little weird at first for the person who was like my sister to be dating someone who was basically my mom. But after watching you two together, it’s obvious that you were made for each other,” Mal said softly, her hand running soothing circles on your thigh. You frowned. 

“What if she doesn’t want to tell them that she’s dating me because she’s ashamed of the age difference?” You asked softly, staring intently at your lap. Sure, Mal was cool with the age difference now, and so we’re your parents, but you knew that there were a lot of people out there who weren’t. Plus Christen was the Christen Press, and you were just a disorganized rookie. 

Gentle fingers tilted your chin up, and your Y/e/c met Mal’s brown.“Christen is a lot of things. I don’t think ashamed is one of them,” 

You nodded, returning your attention to the city passing by. You loved Christen, and you hoped that Mal was right. 

******

Most people would hate getting off a plane and stepping directly into practice, but you were grateful for it. The field was your happy place, a place you didn’t have to think about all the what-ifs. A place where you could simply showcase your skills. 

By the time you and Mal made it to the locker room, it was nearly empty. (Barring your girlfriend, who had stayed back to give you a tight hug and kiss, and Tobin who just sent you a small smile). 

“You ready for this cutie?” Your girlfriend asked, settling down on the bench beside you, nudging you with her shoulder, and placing a kiss on your pink cheeks. 

You stuck your tongue out at Mal who made a gagging sound. 

“I think so,” You shrugged, rooting through your bag to find the last items of your gear, things you were sure you had put in this morning. Your eyebrows furrowed as you shoved your shin guards aside in search of your socks. 

“Is it true you have the sprint record for UCLA?” Tobin nudged your other side. You nodded, not taking your eyes off of the contents of your bag. Had you been paying more attention, you probably would have freaked out that the Tobin Heath knew who you were. 

“Don’t forget the juggling record either,” Mal added, smiling. You had quite the reputation for putting defenders on their asses, and it was going to be entertaining watching you work your magic with the national team. 

“Damn,” Tobin mumbled wide eyes. She was going to have to call dibs on you for the scrimmage. You barely spared her a glance, groaning as you continued to dig for an item you were beginning to fear wasn’t in your bag. You took a deep breath, trying not to panic. Of course you had forgotten something important on your first camp with the national team.

Christen rubbed your back, her head tilting to the side as you ignored one of your heroes (your hero being her best friend was something she found immensely entertaining), her hand coming up to rub your back. “What are you looking for my darling,” 

“I forgot my socks,” you huffed, shoving your bag to the floor pouting. Christen’s lips ticked up slightly as she leaned in to kiss your pink cheeks. 

“That’s alright. I have an extra pair for you in my bag,” 

Your blush deepened as you took the extra pair, slipping them on your feet. You nodded in thanks, she simply winked in return. She knew you’d forget something. You always did. 

******

Meeting the team was an… experience. Kelley had immediately jumped on top of you, squealing about a new baby to corrupt before she was pulled off by Alex. Ashlyn and Ali had argued with Becky and Alyssa about who was going to be your team moms. The youngins had bombarded you with so many questions that it felt like your head was spinning. But through it, all Christen’s hand remained firmly in yours. 

Standing in line, waiting for the forward vs defender drill to begin was a surreal experience for you. You watched with a keen eye as Mal went first and nearly navigated the ball past Becky. You kissed Christen’s cheek before she went and cleanly got past Kelley. Tobin took the next spot, pulling a clean nutmeg off on Abby. You were going to have to one-up her. 

You took a deep breath, trying to settle your nerves, waiting to see which defender you would be up against. 

“You good kid?” Megan asked, bumping your shoulder with her. You blinked, fighting the urge to squeal that The Megan Rapino was talking to you. 

“Hm, excited!” You smiled, biting your lip as Sonnett took her place at the front of her line. Sonnett was good, but you were better and your desire to make a good first impression meant that you were really going to have to put on a show. There would be no better partner for the dance you had planned. 

“Think you can best Sonnett?” Carli smirked, tapping you the ball. 

“Definitely. Cant let a Cavalier get one over on me,” You winked, beginning to juggle the ball. Yeah, this was going to be fun. 

******

“Holy shit, how are you so fast,” Emily panted, catching up to you after you’d made another shot at an unsuspecting Alyssa Naeher. It speared just past her fingertips, making the goal rattle as it made contact with the net. 

“I ate lots of fudge striped cookies when I was younger,” You nodded, wiping the sweat from your forehead and heading towards the sidelines for your water break. From the time you were little you had believed wholeheartedly that the cookies made you run faster. 

“Fudge stripped what?” Emily asked, her eyebrows furrowing beside you. 

“Made by the Keebler elves. They’re magic,” You shrugged, glancing around for the greenbottle with your name on it, entirely unaware of the odd looks the team was giving you and the loving smile your girlfriend was sporting. “Where did I put my bottle?” 

“It’s over-“ Mal started, only to be cut off by Christen’s elbow being lodged in her ribs. 

“Take mine babe,” She laughed, passing you her bottle. You nodded in thanks, squirting the liquid into your mouth. What would you do without her? Mal smirked over your head at the green-eyed forward. Maybe part of your forgetfulness was her love of coming to your rescue. 

“Sick ball skills Ducky,” Tobin clapped you in the back. 

“Thanks!” You squeaked, the stream of water missing your mouth and spraying Christen in the chest. “Oops,” You giggled. 

“If you want me to kiss you, you did it have to get me all wet, you could just ask,” She winked and you felt heat wash over your cheeks, all your previous confidence evaporating. 

 Mal covered her ears and shook her head fast. “Please don’t answer that with the comeback you’re thinking of,”. You smirked, shaking your head. You wouldn’t force her to bear her best friend and her team mom flirting. 

“Hmm, I love your kisses,” 

Christen giggled, wrapping her arms around your waist, and pulling you into a quick kiss. You pulled away when the team wolf-whistled, burying your face in your girlfriend's chest. 

“Told you she wasn’t embarrassed,” Mal said, patting your back. 

“Yeah, how could she when you put everyone on their ass,” Sonnett cackled. Your groan was muffled by your girlfriend's soft skin. Her fingers found their way under your chin, coaxing you out of your favorite hiding place. You Y/e/c eyes met her green ones. 

“You thought I was embarrassed?” She asked softly, and you gave her a slight nod. How couldn’t she be? She was the Christen Press and you were just a bumbling college student who would lose her head if it wasn’t attached to her body. 

“You’re you, and you have everything together, and I’m me and I forget everything,” You mumbled, shrugging. 

“Well, I love you, even when you forget stuff. Plus, You look really cute in my clothes,” She kissed your nose and your cheeks before landing on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, enjoying the way her soft lips felt against yours. 

It didn’t matter that you were younger. You would prove yourself to be an asset to the team and Christen loved you. 

“Did they forget we’re here?” Emily’s whisper read followed by a slapping sound and Lindsey’s voice. 

“Way to ruin a moment Sonnett,” 

Yes. You were a mess, but you were Christen’s mess and you’d fit right in. 

[wherethewordsare]

Wash the Day Away

I decided to try something new and I wrote some over indulgent smut.🙈🙈🙈 

CW: Explicit Sexual Content. Mind the tags kiddos. It’s gonna get Spicy™

It had been a very terrible no good day and all Jaskier wanted was to go home, flop into Geralt’s lap and watch bad television with a hand in his hair. To top off his very terrible no good day, when he got home he remembered it was Tuesday and Geralt was at the gym with his brothers and then would probably go out with them for the evening. 

He groaned as he stripped out of his clothes, and made his way for the bathroom, groaning again when the cold tile was unforgiving under his feet, chilling his toes. The water seemed to take forever to heat up but when it finally did, he stepped under and slumped against the wall, his eyes sliding shut. 

All he had to do was shower and then he could climb into bed and by time Geralt got home, he’d get to spoon up next to him and pass the fuck out. His hands worked out the lather in his hair before he leaned his forehead back against the tile, letting the heat of the water seep into his bones. 

When the curtain behind him shifted he let out a yelp, holding up the shampoo bottle as his only defense before the water cleared from his eyes and he saw Geralt standing there. 

“Oh, hello,” Jaskier swallowed lamely, turning to press his forehead back to the wall. “I figured you’d be out with the guys until much later.” He huffed, willing his heart rate to settle. It had been a very nearly impossibly terrible no good day and he felt jittery and frayed. 

Large warm hands wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him gently until he was pressed against Geralt’s chest, a scruffy chin sliding over his shoulder. “You didn’t text much today. Thought you might have had a bit of a day,” Geralt pressed a kiss to his neck, his lips twitching slightly. “Sorry I spooked you,” another kiss to the ball of Jaskier’s shoulder. 

Tension was already sliding out of him that he hadn’t realized he had been holding onto. Jaskier sighed and leaned back, his hands coming up to lace through Geralt’s. “I want to quit.” He groused, feeling petulant. 

“No you don’t. You love your job.” Geralt’s hands slid up and down his sides in long soothing motions, though they kept Jaskier close to him as he kissed and nipped at his skin. 

“I do love my job, but the people I work with are the worst and I hate it,” he couldn’t seem to maintain the same level of agitation he had felt when he had gotten home. “This is working a bit too well and I wonder if I should worry you’ve tricked me somehow,” Jaskier chuckled. He tried to turn in Geralt’s arms but he was stopped by fingers digging into his hips. “Oh ho ho, really?” 

“Hmm,” was all he got in response as teeth grazed near the top of his shoulder. Geralt slid one hand up from Jaskier’s hip, pressing gently at his back until he was leaning against the wall again, his forehead pressed to the tile as Geralt left a trail of hot wet open mouthed kisses down his spine. He felt as Geralt slid to his knees behind him, his hands cupping the globes of Jaskier ass as he bit into his side gently. 

“Holy fucking hell, Geralt,” he breathed, squirming slightly. There was a soft chuckle and another kiss at his hip before Geralt’s hand slipped between his cheeks and began to tease lightly at his hole. Jaskier nearly jumped at the sudden contact, his eyes fluttering. “I’m going to start having more bad days if I get to come home to this.” 

“Or, you could just ask,” Geralt deadpanned even as he lightly pressed against Jaskier’s entrance with his thumb. He hummed against Jaskier’s skin again as he slowly dipped his head down the curve of Jaskier’s thigh, simply teasing him now. 

“I don’t know if I’ll survive to the next time, Melitele, aah,” Jaskier pressed back eagerly into Geralt’s touch trying not to whine as he felt his prick grow more and more interested while Geralt’s hand roamed everywhere but where Jaskier was starting to need it the most. 

Behind him, Geralt only chuckled, working his way in a series of bites that would certainly leave a trail in Jaskier’s skin that he would feel for days. That thought alone made him twitch. It wasn’t until he felt Geralt’s hot breath just on his tailbone that he truly began to squirm. 

“Geralt, please, fuck, mercy.” Suddenly he didn’t feel steady on his knees and Geralt must have sensed it too because before he could say anything else, strong arms wrapped up his body, holding him steadily as Geralt swiped his tongue over Jaskier’s rim, causing him to gasp. Jaskier dropped his forehead to the tile with a thud and did everything in his power to stay upright. 

Geralt started slowly, drawing out each press of his tongue, his fingers twitching irregularly against Jaskier’s ribs as he held him up. The water was still blissfully hot but was nothing compared to where Geralt’s mouth worked over his entrance. When he finally pressed in it was all Jaskier could do not to collapse as his knees threatened to buckle. 

Resting his shoulders and chest against the cool tile, Jaskier reached behind him, his fingers sliding into soaked hair and tugging gently. It was all the encouragement Geralt needed before he was pressing his tongue in deeper, working Jaskier open. It left him breathless and needy, the slight burn of the stretch singing in his veins. 

One of Geralt’s hands on his ribs slid higher, finding Jaskier’s nipple to tease, tugging it until Jaskier was panting with effort, his still neglected cock jumping at the overwhelming sensation of being at Geralt’s complete mercy. He squeezed his eyes shut as his hips canted back, seeking more as words began to tumble from his lips, unbidden and unstoppable. 

“Geralt, fuck, so good. Gods, just… fuck need…” He moaned as Geralt pressed in, spreading Jaskier open on his tongue, teeth grazing from time to time on his sensitive skin making him jump and shiver and keen. Before too long, Geralt was pulling away, his forehead resting on the back of Jaskier’s thigh as calloused wide fingers probed gently at his slick hole. Jaskier pressed back into the touch, his head thrown back. “Geralt! Please,” he panted, not quite sure what it was he was asking for. 

Geralt seemed to know though as he pulled away from Jaskier just long enough for Jaskier to hear the snap of a bottle before the firm line of Geralt’s body was pressed against him again, his mouth back at Jaskier’s neck and shoulders, nipping and growling low into Jaskier’s ear. 

“Going to take you apart, sweetheart, and put you back together and do it all over again,” he murmured as slick fingers pressed into Jaskier, making his breath catch. 

“Fuck, you horny bastard. I was just trying to shower,” Jaskier tries but he’s leaning into every touch Geralt is giving him, his body trembling. Geralt only chuckled before a hand slid up to take Jaskier’s chin. His head was tilted up and back until he was in a filthy delicious kiss with Geralt, his heart hammering as Geralt worked him open with a second finger, almost too quickly but not nearly fast enough. He whimpered as Geralt stretched him open, his erection digging into Jaskier’s thigh. 

The water still ran hot and Jaskier felt like he might melt if Geralt kept this up. Just when he was about to start begging for Geralt to get on with it, he was turned abruptly and Geralt crowded him back against the tile, smirking at the noise of indignation Jaskier gave. 

“Was planning on fucking you instead if that’s alright,” Geralt’s hands slid under Jaskier’s thighs, lifting him with ease and pinning him against the cold tile. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, dear heart,” Jaskier groaned, tilting down slightly to kiss Geralt again, messy and uncoordinated as they shifted, trying to align their bodies properly. It wasn’t the most graceful sex they had ever had but it was quickly souring to the top of hottest. 

“Hmm,” was all the response he got as Geralt buried his face into Jaskier’s neck. He shifted his hips once more and the head of his cock bumped against Jaskier, making him shiver and squirm, needing more. Geralt got the hint, seemingly no longer in the mood to tease, he slowly pressed up into Jaskier, groaning as he bit down into his neck.

Jaskier’s fingers tangled into Geralt’s hair, tugging roughly as he started to move, pushing Jaskier up the wall slightly with every thrust. He wrapped his legs tightly around Geralt’s waist, clinging to him as best as he could. Their lips clashed together in something like an attempt at another kiss but ended up with them panting desperately into the same space, their foreheads pressing together as they chased their pleasures. 

Geralt’s fingers dug into Jaskier’s thighs pulling him up slightly, shifting him and the new angle made Jaskier see stars the next time Geralt slid home. He was winded and dizzy, his thighs trembling as he felt the heat start to coil tightly at the pit of his stomach. 

“Geralt, Geralt, please… So- fuck! So close!” He managed through a long low moan. Geralt only nodded slightly, his hips snapping up and making Jaskier cry out. It was too much and just the right amount of perfect, the weight of Geralt’s strength holding Jaskier easily against the tiled wall of their bathroom, the way he groaned every time Jaskier tightened around him, the perfect heat of the air wrapping around them. 

Within a few off rhythm thrusts, Jaskier was coming with a bitten off moan, his spend coating his chest where the water couldn’t get around Geralt’s broad shoulders. Geralt leaned into Jaskier, his forehead pressed to his shoulder as he gave in to a relentless pace for a moment, the heavy smacking of skin against skin ringing in the small space before he stilled, his body taught. He spilled into Jaskier with a litany of curses and half mumbled praise. He all but slumped into Jaskier who barely managed to catch himself let alone Geralt. 

They stood there leaning against the wall as the water behind them ran tepid, catching their breath. 

“Water’s getting cold,” Geralt said as if he hadn’t just left Jaskier completely shaken. 

“Well you’d still have hot water if you hadn’t been so preoccupied,” Jaskier shot back but there was about as much heat in it as there had been in the water. 

Geralt grinned as he pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s shoulder. Turning, he shut the water off and pulled back the curtain. They fell into an easy quiet as they got out and dried, finding themselves leaning into each others’ space more often than necessary to slowly kiss. Geralt just managed to get his sweatpants back on when he was backing Jaskier out of their bathroom, his hands on his hips, guiding him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jaskier chuckled, letting himself be kissed and manhandled, feeling far more relaxed than he had when he had gotten home. 

“I told you, sweetheart. Going to do it all over again,” Geralt gave him a wolfish grin as he scooped Jaskier up under the thighs, making him have to wrap himself around Geralt quickly or fall. 

He yelped slightly before dissolving into a fit of laughter as Geralt dropped him onto the bed before pouncing. 

It was going to be a wonderful very good night.

[fruitcoops]

More “biting” 😉 stories of coops please?

Anon 1: Do you think you’d be willing to do more kinky coops? Maybe a follow up to truth or drink where Sirius gets tied up again?

Anon 2: Mixed prompts 80-83 pls!!

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! This is part 1 of today’s fics--hope you enjoy! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, whom I love and adore.

TW for restraint kink, edging, smut, and hickeys

Mixed Prompt 80:  “ You’re going to regret that sweetheart.”

81: “Are we clear?”

82: “Try to stay quiet, understand?”

83:  “Don’t hold back, baby.”

“Did you see Coach’s email?” Remus asked as he scrolled through his inbox and reached for another piece of chocolate; they were shaped like little hearts, because Sirius was a sweet, sweet muppet of a man and had a romantic streak wider than the continental US.

“I did, yeah,” Sirius said from the doorway to the kitchen. “It’ll be pretty nice, having two days off in a row.”

Remus read through the rest of the message. Too much snow, unsafe conditions, practice cancelled, yada yada yada. A sudden thought struck him and he glanced up. “Hey, maybe we could try something a little more…”

Sirius grinned as the chocolate clattered to the countertop, along with Remus’ phone. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

Remus swallowed around the sudden dryness of his mouth. Chest. Arms??? THIGHS. FUCK. “Huh?”

“I was saving these for our actual day off, but it seems fate had other plans.” Sirius’ grin became a downright smirk as he quirked an eyebrow and bent his knee.

“When—how—what?” Remus couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tight, dark red fabric that covered Sirius’ legs up to his thighs. Bows. The socks had bows on the top, and they matched his underwear. “How long have you been standing there?”

Sirius shrugged. The upper half of his body was bare, and Remus tracked the movement of every muscle. “About five minutes. Your email must be very exciting.”

A soft whine escaped his throat. “Where did you get those?”

“Online.” Sirius flexed his thigh and all the air rushed from Remus’ lungs. “Why, do you like them?”

“I want to take them off with my teeth,” he blurted. “Fucking hell, Sirius.”

“That can be arranged.” Mischief played at the edge of his mouth as he began backing away. “Though you’ll have to catch me first.”

And he ran. Remus stood there in shock for a moment before sprinting after him, skidding on the floor as he grabbed the bannister. Sirius was already on the bed when he made it to their room and snapped the top of one thigh-high at Remus playfully.

“You’re going to regret that, sweetheart.”

“Promise?”

Remus was on him in an instant, sucking a bruise into the side of his neck as he pushed Sirius’ arms over his head and settled between his thighs, grinding his hips down. “How long have you had these?” When Sirius smiled instead of responding, he bit down on his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“Four days.”

“Where did you hide them?”

Sirius gasped at the pressure on his wrists. “Nightstand.”

“Do you have any idea what you look like right now?”

A slow, smug look covered his face and he nipped Remus’ bottom lip. “Yes.”

“Turn over.” Sirius bucked his hips up instead, and Remus let go of his hands to flip him hard enough he bounced a bit, then attached his mouth to his shoulder blade. “God, you look fucking incredible in red, baby.”

“You think this was an accident?”

“Somebody’s feeling bratty.” Remus dragged his blunt nails down Sirius’ ribs, and he shivered. “Just for that, I’m going to finger you until you’re begging for it. Are we clear?”

Sirius turned his head to the side and rolled his hips back. “I’m not begging for anything.”

“We’ll see.” Remus continued mouthing along the strong line of his shoulders as he fumbled blindly in the nightstand drawer for the lube, then paused. He straddled Sirius’ waist and leaned over to sift through the various items that they had tossed in without thinking—playing cards, a book, Sirius’ tie, a few condoms that they hadn’t touched in months… “What the fuck?”

“What?”

“Where’s the lube?”

“Are we out?”

Dread pooled in Remus’ gut. The mere thought of trekking through the snow to get lube or—even worse—finding out all the stores were closed was almost enough to kill his boner. Almost. Sirius was still in red underwear and fucking thigh highs, after all. “No. We can’t be out. Didn’t we just buy some the other day?”

Sirius shrugged. “It’s been a while, I don’t know.”

“It has been a while,” Remus muttered.

“I think I put some in the laundry room so we would have extra.”

Relief made butterflies erupt in his chest and he kissed Sirius’ cheek. “You are so smart and I love you. Hang on one second, okay?”

Remus’ hands shook a little bit as he hurried back downstairs and down the hall, standing on his tiptoes to see into the cupboards. Laundry detergent, Windex, fabric sheets, two pairs of Jules’ socks…

He pushed the detergent aside and felt around for the familiar bottle. “Where the hell did you put it? Come on, baby, work with me here.”

Clear plastic caught the light on the highest shelf and Remus thumped his forehead against the washing machine. He got the stepstool with minimal grumbling and grabbed the lube, making a mental note to block that entire shelf and remind Sirius that he was five foot fucking eleven, which was well above average.

“Baby, we need to have a discussion about—” He stopped cold in the bedroom doorway, then sighed. “Really?”

Sirius arched his back as he pressed two fingers back into himself, his jaw going a little slack. “You were slow.”

Remus took a deep breath when he saw the half-full bottle of lube on the bed next to him. “Where’d you hide that?”

“Under my pillow. You didn’t even check.” Sirius’ breath caught as his hand changed angles, but his smile remained. “I thought you’d call me on it for sure.”

“You know, most people wouldn’t play terribly mean tricks on their fiancé on Valentine’s Day, especially when that fiancé was already going to fuck them so hard they can’t walk straight,” Remus said as he walked slowly toward the bed and tossed the other bottle next to Sirius. “You’d better count your lucky stars we don’t have practice for the next two days.”

“Oh?” Sirius eyes fluttered shut for a second and he reached for more.

Remus smacked his hand away. “Yes. Was the shelf really necessary?”

“I had to delay you somehow. Did you use the stepstool, or did you climb on the dryer?”

“None of your fucking business, tall-ass. Turn over.”

“Make me.”

Remus reached back into the nightstand and pulled the tie out, manhandling Sirius’ arms over his head and tying them to the small ring they had put in the headboard for that exact purpose. Sirius made a confused noise when Remus grabbed his silky-soft underwear off the foot of the bed and slid it back up his legs until it was snug and tight again. “Much better.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what happened to fucking me until I can’t walk straight?” Sirius’ eyebrows drew together and he nudged his leg against Remus’ side, only to have it guided back down by a firm hand. “Come on, sweetheart, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” Remus said drily as he squeezed the thin strip of bare skin on Sirius’ thighs. “Between the super fun game of tag and then hide-and-seek, I thought you didn’t want me to touch you.”

“But you will, right?” Nervousness laced his voice. “Right?”

“Maybe. Might get myself off and then leave you here, though.” He leaned over and dragged his lips down Sirius’ chest. “I’m still on the fence.”

“Non, non, non, get off the fence. The fence is not a fun place to be.”

“Really?” He continued to the edge of Sirius’ waistband and dipped his tongue under the satiny fabric, then feathered his mouth along the outline of his dick until Sirius’ knees started inching upward in pleasure. “Hmm. I think it’s a great place to be, actually. You could beg yourself hoarse and I wouldn’t have to do a goddamn thing.”

“What do I have to do?” Sirius panted. The front of his boxers was already darkening with precome and his pupils dilated when Remus palmed himself through his pants.

“Try to stay quiet, understand?”

Sirius clenched his thighs around Remus’ waist as he pulled his shirt off, only to shakily straighten them out again when Remus fixed him with a withering look. His dick looked painfully hard as Remus got off the bed and slid his pants down his legs, giving Sirius a great view of his ass under the tight black underwear he was wearing.

“Oh, yeah, that was supposed to be a surprise for you,” he said mildly when Sirius whined. “It’s Valentine’s Day, after all. One of us was getting railed tonight.”

Sirius perked up. “Really?”

“That was the original plan. Now that you’ve got these—” He plucked the edges of the thigh-highs as he knelt on the mattress again. “—I might need to rethink that idea.”

“Nope, no you don’t.” Sirius wrapped his legs around Remus’ hips and tugged him down. “You really don’t need to rethink that, it sounds like a fantastic idea—”

Remus pressed his palm over Sirius’ mouth and pushed his legs down with the other. “What did I say about being quiet?”

A soft noise tore from his chest as Remus ran the heel of his hand up Sirius’ dick and felt it twitch beneath the fabric. “Desolée,” he said as Remus scooted backwards a few inches. “Desolée, mon coeur.”

“Good job.” Sirius sighed happily as he worked a hickey onto the bit of skin between his underwear and his socks, but his chest hitched when Remus moved barely an inch to the side.

“What’re you doing?”

“Decorating.”

“Me?”

He sighed and bracketed Sirius’ ribs with his elbows, resting his chin on his hands. “Yes, you. You’re beautiful, and I’m just making sure people know you’re appreciated. Now be quiet.”

“Nobody’s going to see those. They’ll be gone in three days.”

“I’ll know.” Remus placed a slightly darker bruise on his inner thigh and Sirius’ hips canted to the side with pleasure. He hummed against his skin, then pulled away. “I’ll have to finish these when I turn you over.”

“When?”

“If.”

“Re.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffed with a smile, leaning up for a brief kiss. “You know me better than that.”

Sirius’ eyes crinkled. “I do.”

“Let me enjoy myself in the meantime, yeah? I think I deserve it after everything you’ve done today,” he teased, adding new hickeys to Sirius’ other thigh until the bare skin was mostly dark lilac. He skimmed kisses down both his legs, paying special attention to the backs of his knees and the cute little bows at the tops of his thighs. “I love these.”

“Yeah?” A pink flush spread to Sirius’ chest.

“Yeah. Somehow, they’re both adorable and sexy.” Remus reached up and tapped his nose. “Just like you.”

And then he licked a long, slow stripe up the front of Sirius’ underwear, which made him shake from head to toe. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Not yet.” He did it again, this time giving his hips a squeeze. A choked moan slipped through and he shushed him softly. “Quiet, baby, remember? I’ll tell you when you can make noise for me.”

“Oh.” Sirius’ eyebrows pitched upward as Remus slowly slid the sticky fabric down and replaced it with his tongue. “S’il vous plait. S’il vous plait, mon cœur, je le veux, s’il vous plait. ”

“What did I tell you?”

“I—I—” Sirius clenched his teeth as Remus sucked just the head of his dick into his mouth. His abdomen jolted under Remus’ palms.

“You’re getting all accent-y.” Remus smirked, leaving a mark on the crest of his hipbone. “I told you that you could beg yourself hoarse and I wouldn’t have to do a god—” He kissed the soft skin below Sirius’ ribs. “—damn—” Another kiss, just under his sternum. “—thing.”

A tremor ran through Sirius and he pulled on his restraint for a moment, hard enough that the headboard creaked. “Ngh. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I think it’s time to finish those decorations, hmm?”

Sirius nodded enthusiastically and Remus untied his hands, flipping him by the hips for the second time. He practically purred as Remus tied him up again and pressed his hands into that broad back; Remus pushed his knees until they bent and Sirius propped himself on his elbows, breathing heavily and bare but for his thigh high socks.

“Color?”

“Green.” There was no hesitation in his voice.

“Good.” Instead of going straight to his legs again—which were flexed in the new position and doing absolutely wonderful things to Remus’ thought process—Remus grabbed the half-empty lube and poured some on his fingers.

“What’re you doing?” Sirius asked, trying to shift around and see. He froze when the first finger pushed in without an issue. “Huh. But—but you said—”

“I didn’t tell you to start making noise.” Sirius pressed his face into the pillow and his knees jerked inward as Remus added a second finger. “You already did this part for me, didn’t you?”

“Mhmm.”

“But I didn’t tell you to.”

“No.” The word was barely a whisper.

“And as much as I love you—” He kissed Sirius’ lower back and scraped his teeth along the dimples there. “—and want to make you fall apart, I can’t let you do whatever you want without consequences.”

“Yes, you can,” Sirius gasped, tightening around him as Remus pressed upward. “You can, I don’t mind.”

“No, I can’t, and you’d better be quiet before I drag this out even longer.”

There was a beat of silence while Sirius got ahold of himself again. “How long? The usual?”

“Since it’s Valentine’s Day, eight minutes.” Remus smoothed a hand up his spine and pressed down between his shoulder blades until most of his upper chest was on the pillows before slowly dragging his fingers in and out, pushing just next to his sweet spot until Sirius quaked with the effort of suppressing his moans. He added a third finger a moment later and Sirius’ thighs knocked together. “Hold yourself up, baby.”

Sirius pulled his elbows in once again, supporting his chest as Remus added a few new hickeys to his thigh and stretched him slow and deep. He gave his wrist a twist when he moved to the right side and Sirius dipped for half a second, one leg threatening to give out.

“Hold yourself up,” Remus reminded him, wrapping an arm around his lower belly and lifting slightly; Sirius’ breath caught and his shoulders folded in a bit. “You okay?”

“Ouais.”

“Alright. Two minutes left.” He pushed his fingers in further and felt the ripple of pleasure roll through Sirius under his mouth, then kissed the middle of his back. “Like that?”

“Uh-huh.” Sirius’ voice was tight with pleasure and wavered with swallowed moans.

Remus flexed his fingers and brushed against his prostate; Sirius nearly collapsed onto the bed and a whining noise was half-muffled by the sheets. “What was that?”

“ ‘s nothing, ‘s nothing, keep going.” Sirius tried to get to his elbows again, but even though Remus had stopped moving, he seemed to be having trouble. “Sweetheart, please.”

“You know the rules, baby. Five more minutes.”

“I can’t—I can’t—”

“You will.” Remus rubbed Sirius’ side to soothe him, but didn’t take his fingers out. “How about this: if you can hold yourself up and make no noises for two full minutes, I’ll fuck you and you can come whenever you want. Sound good?”

Sirius nodded frantically and struggled to get his knees under himself. “D’accord.”

“Time starts…now.” Remus kept his eyes on the clock as he plucked at Sirius’ seams, spreading his thighs to get a better angle when it looked like he was starting to relax into the feeling. One minute left. Something that would have been a moan if Sirius had a little less willpower lodged in his chest and he tensed around Remus, legs shaking with arousal. He was damn near dripping onto the sheets.

Forty-five seconds. Remus bit his lip and ran his free hand up Sirius’ thigh, digging into the bruises just enough to get his attention. “You look so pretty with these,” he murmured, leaving a trail of small bites down his spine. “It must have been hard finding thigh highs that fit, huh? You’re so strong, so beautiful, and I love that about you.” He made sure to run over Sirius’ sweet spot on every drag until his breaths got shallower and his dick twitched. Twenty seconds. “You don’t really want to come right away, do you? You like it when I take control. You like being tied down and edged until you’re a mess. Ten seconds left, baby.”

Sirius’ back bowed as Remus’ hand brushed his dick. “Pas juste,” he blurted, then groaned when Remus paused. “Fuck.”

“Was that a sound?”

“No, no it wasn’t.” He pushed back against Remus’ hand and whined when he pulled his fingers out. “Re, I only had five seconds left.”

“Bummer, isn’t it?” Remus said with mock-pity, rubbing wide circles along Sirius’ ass and thighs.

“One more chance?”

“We had a deal, love. Two minutes, no sounds, no falling. You did so well and then you tripped at the finish line.”

“You touched my dick.”

“Was that against the rules?”

Sirius huffed and glared over his shoulder, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the pink of his cheeks and the pleading look in his eye. “It was in my head.”

Remus made a sympathetic noise. “It’s a shame you’re not in charge today, then. Chest down.”

“I want to see you.”

“Later. Down.” Sirius rolled his eyes, but complied so his back sloped in a gentle curve; Remus smacked his thigh lightly. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“Oops.”

“Apologize.” When he stayed silent, Remus slid two fingers back into him. “Sirius, apologize or I’ll get you off by fingering you.”

“I’m sor—sorry.” His hips jerked as Remus pushed on his prostate one last time.

“That wasn’t so hard, huh?” He pulled his own underwear down and tossed it to the side, reaching down to push Sirius’ thighs apart while he lubed up. “Don’t hold back, baby, you can be loud now.”

“Oh thank God,” Sirius breathed, shuddering a bit as Remus pressed in and began to move. “Oh—oh, oh fuck.”

“Color?”

“Fuck—green.” He gripped the poor necktie and twisted it in his hands while the pace made his knees slip. Remus put his arm around Sirius’ midsection once again while the other hand splayed on his back and held him down into the pillows.

The thigh highs began to bunch from all the movement and Remus slowed, reaching down to adjust them while Sirius clenched and unclenched his hands, mumbling out a string of pleas in English and French alike. Remus stilled for a moment and kissed the side of his neck as he relished in the heat.

“Move,” Sirius moaned, pushing back weakly. “Please, please move.”

“I love you so much,” Remus said into his sweat-slick skin as he started again, angling up on each thrust as he lifted Sirius’ hips into the right spot. “I do, baby. And I can’t wait to have two whole days to ourselves so I can admire those pretty bruises all over you.”

“Lemme—lemme see you. S’il vous plait, mon amour, I wanna see you.”

“Alright, shhh.” Remus combed a hand through his hair and untied his wrists; they were a bit pink from all the pulling, but otherwise looked fine. He gently pushed on Sirius’ shoulder so he could roll over and was met with glassy silver eyes and lips bitten so red they almost matched his socks. “Bonjour. Do you want me to tie you up?”

“Non.” Sirius smiled and pulled him down for a slow kiss, and Remus could feel his heartbeat hammering against his shoulder. “Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime,” he murmured back as he lined himself up again. Sirius’ eyes fell shut with a moan when Remus pushed in and he inhaled deeply, winding one leg with Remus’ and letting the other splay to the side.

“There, there, there,” he pleaded, grasping for a hold on Remus’ arms as his eyes flickered between open and shut. “Oh, fuck, je veux—je veux—”

“Do you think you deserve to come?” Sirius made a conflicted noise and pressed his knee into Remus’ thigh, only for Remus to pull it straight once more; the sock rolled down with each rocking movement. “Sirius, look at me. Do you want to come?”

It took a moment before Sirius made eye contact with him and nodded, struggling to get enough breath to speak. “Yes.”

“You were so rude earlier, but I did make you wait a long time.” Remus thought for a second, but didn’t slow his brutal pace that made Sirius turn his face into the pillows. “Can you come like this?”

“Touch me—touch me please—”

Remus lifted his lower back up and ran his teeth along Sirius’ pulse point, then wrapped a hand around his dick and jerked him quick and tight until high, incoherent sounds slipped through his lips. “Now.”

Sirius nearly kicked him in the shin as he arched his back, mouth falling open, moans muffled in the hollow of Remus’ throat. He babbled some string of whimpered words, caught between pushing Remus away and pulling him closer until their warm skin pressed across his entire front and his knees bumped together over the small of Remus’ back.

Remus followed him a moment later, sliding his mouth along Sirius’ collarbone before he came so hard his arms shook with it. A soft hand trailing through his hair brought him back to earth, though Sirius still looked dazed and shuddered every few seconds as Remus stroked a hand down his cheek and slid the thigh-highs back up with the other. “Shh, mon amour. Ça va, chérie, respire. Je t’aime tellement. ”

Sirius smiled and kissed him again, holding him close and warm as he pulled out. “I love it when you speak French,” he murmured. “Si beau.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Their quiet laughter buzzed against his chest and he littered Sirius’ face with kisses until his silver eyes cleared. “Are your wrists alright?”

With a heavy sigh, he let go of Remus and held them up. “All good.”

He kissed those, too, for good measure. “And the rest of you?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “I think you achieved your goal.”

“Which one?”

“There is no way I’m going to be able to walk straight.”

Remus hid his laughter in Sirius’ neck and rolled to the side, gathering him into his arms. “It’s a good thing we have all weekend, then.” He checked the clock and sighed. “I should make dinner soon.”

“No.”

“No? I’m not allowed to make us food?”

“Nope.”

“But that’s my present for you.”

“Your present to me is currently on my thighs and won’t disappear in half an hour.” He felt Sirius smile and nuzzle closer, then gentle pressure on his neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Payback.” Sirius rolled him onto his back and began speckling his neck and shoulders with small love bites, outlining his ribs with featherlight touches. Remus reached down and snapped the edge of his thigh high. “Hey!”

He grinned. “Couldn’t resist. You’re going to keep these, right?”

“Duh.” Sirius wound their legs together and cuddled into Remus’ side. “Mmm, you are so warm.”

Remus wrapped both arms around him and kissed the top of his head, closing his eyes. Naptime sounded good. Naptime, then dinner, then back to bed for more snuggles, or maybe something more. It was Valentine’s Day, after all.

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

The Next Morning

The first thing Sirius saw when he woke up was gray. The second was Remus’ shocked face, followed by an ‘oh, fuck’.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, propping himself on his elbows with a wince. His backside ached from yesterday’s activities, and his thighs were still incredibly sensitive—he noted that the matching rings of hickeys had not diminished much overnight with a sense of satisfaction. Remus was staring down at his phone as rain drizzled softly outside.

Wait. Rain.

Silently, Remus passed him the phone. Sirius squinted at the screen, blinking the drowsiness out of his eyes, then froze.

Hello team,

Due to improved weather conditions and snow melt, practice today has been rescheduled for 4 pm. Thank you for your flexibility.

Best,

A. Weasley

“Oh, fuck.”

[shoutoismybaby]

A Pink Promise (BakuXReader)

Summary: You had a tradition with bakugou. A tradition where every time you had to leave each other you would wrap your pinky’s together in a promise that you would see the other again. But one night after an argument you storm out of the apartment without your typical goodbye, and bakugou gets a call that makes him question if he will ever see you alive again

WARNING: Angst, but it ends in fluff. Cursing, injury, car accident, fighting, and crying

Hi. I’m just gonna leave this here😘

***

“I should probably head home,” You shifted from one foot to another, “my dad will get worried if I’m late…”

“Alright, bye loser.” You giggled at Bakugous response and held out your hand, pinky extended.

“So, you’ll pick me up at two?” You asked, pausing at the confused look on his face. “What?”

“What are you doing?” Bakugou asked, he was staring at your hand. You laughed once more and ignored his glare,

“Oh, it's for a pinky promise.” You explained,

“You need me to pinky promise that I’ll take you on a date tomorrow?” His brows only became more furrowed, Katsuki knew you were a little weird. The simplest things seemed to make you smile, but that's what he loved about you. He wondered if you seriously wanted him to pinky promise you that he would take you out, right after he just asked you to be his girlfriend. Yeah, he was an asshole. But not to that extent.

“No, um. It’s a promise that you’ll see me again.” You blushed, it was a habit you had picked up from your parents. They always used a pinky promise in place of a goodbye kiss. You were about to let your hand drop when looped his pinky with yours.

“Okay, I’ll be at your house at two. You better be ready.” He gave your finger a tight squeeze before letting it go. He then turned around and began walking away from you.

“I won't!” You promised, watching him walk away for a couple of seconds before you turned to head home.

From that day on, each time you went to say goodbye, a pinky promise accompanied it. Even Bakugou caught onto the habit quickly, despite the fact that his friends would often tease him for it. Yeah, he was whipped for you. He knew it. Your peers knew it. Even your uncle's dog knew it. But all that mattered to him was that you were happy. And you were for a while.

It was when you had graduated for UA and moved into an apartment together that problems started to arise. Katsuki got overly jealous of every person you got close to, and you were always exhausted after work. Hero's work was stressful on both of you, only contributing to the short temper your boyfriend seemed to have. Fights would happen over the smallest of things, such as chores not being done, or something being left out where it didn't belong.

Of course, you couldn't say that you were innocent, you did start a fair amount of fights. Eventually, though, it hit a point that you could barely handle it anymore. Even when you tried to calm him down, to just talk through things, it would always end in screams and slammed doors.

And soon enough, you hit your limit.

“God, don’t you ever shut up!?” You screamed, just having gotten home from work. Why were you already fighting with him? You hadn't even gotten the chance to take off your shoes. His face only seemed to get more contorted, matching the amount of anger he felt. Why was he always directing it at you? “I just got home from work, cant you give me a fucking break!”

“Maybe you’d get home earlier if you were any good at what you do!” He argued, of course, he would go on the offense.

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” You prayed that he would back down.

“I'm just saying that if you weren't such a shitty hero, maybe you would get home at a decent time and actually-” That was your breaking point.

“Just because you’ll never be good enough to be the number 1 hero, doesn't mean you can take it out on me!” You shut him up pretty fast. His face paled and eyes widened, but you could barely notice past the high you were on. “I’m sick and tired of coming home to someone who only wants to fight with me! Have you ever thought that maybe I take extra shifts to avoid seeing you?”

You were crying now, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You were so mad. How could he tell you that he loved you and then tell you something like that?

Katsuki seemed frozen, you couldn't see the guilt flood his body. You couldn't hear the thoughts whirring in his head. You couldn't feel his regret. You could only feel anger.

You could only feel your heart ripping in two, the tears scratching their way to your eyes. Everything hurt. You felt like a gust of wind could cause your body to fall apart. Yet, at the same time, you felt numb. Maybe that was the anger. The desperation. The hurt. Maybe that was what was protecting your fragile self.

You had never felt so broken and vulnerable before.

“I hate you Bakugou!” He was supposed to be the one to protect you, love you, care for you. So why was he the one tearing you apart?

If it hadn't already, his heart stopped. You hadn't called him by his last name since you got together.

“(Y/n)-” His hand reached out to you. All he wanted to do right then was apologize to you, and hold you close until you forgave him. But you couldn't do that. Not again. Not then,

“Don't touch me!” Your voice sounded so broken as you held one of your wrists in your other hand. “Don't-” A shuddering breath made its way through your throat. You reached for your coat and began to pull it on.

“(Y/n), please don't. I'm sorry-”

“I don't want to see you again,” You closed your eyes tight and sighed, turning to the door. He didn't say anything else, so you left.

***

It was a couple of seconds before his arm returned to his side, and a couple of minutes more before he stopped standing there. Choosing to sit instead. He wasn’t sure why. Why he didn’t just move to the couch. Why some part of him was convinced that you would just walk back in, and let him apologize. Let him fix everything.

But he knew you wouldn't. Even more, he knew he didn’t deserve it.

It was an hour before he finally moved, and it was only to get to his ringing phone. All he could do at that moment was wish it was you.

Wish it was about you.

Oh, how he came to wish he could take back that wish.

“(y/n), I'm sorry-”

“Hello?” It wasn't your voice on the phone, Bakugou considered hanging up, but had a feeling that he shouldn't.

“Who is this?” He asked gruffly, he just wanted you back in his arms. He didn't care about anything else.

“My name is Haru, I work for the Musutafu hospital. Your number is on the emergency contact list of (Y/n) (L/n). Could you come down to the hospital? It's urgent.”

Bakugou didn't think that his heart would break anymore that night. But here he was, tearing up on the phone. Begging and screaming at the poor nurse to tell him what was going on, knowing full well she couldn't. Stupid patient confidentiality.

He had never pulled on his shoes and coat faster, not taking the time to realise his shoes did not match. He knew it was illegal to use his quirk at the moment, but he didn’t care. He launched himself into the air and towards the hospital, only slowing down in order to land painfully in front of the doors. But he didn't care about how he felt. Nor did he care about the immediate attention that was placed on him from everyone around.

“Is that Ground Zero?”

“I’ve never seen him without his hero suit on before”

“Look at him. He looks like a mess.”

“Is he okay?”

The hospital was busy when he walked inside, covered in sweat from both the bodily exertion and anxiety. His heart was racing and the only thing keeping him from fainting was the fact that he needed to see you. How had you already ended up in the hospital? You had only just left his house-

But the clock on the wall corrected him, it had been a few hours. His stomach churned as he walked up to the receptionist's desk,

“Where’s (Y/n)?” He growled out, beginning to get restless. Now that some people knew who he was, the paparazzi was sure to show up. And that was the last thing either of you needed.

“Name, ID, Relationship to the patient?” The woman's calm demeanor was in direct contrast to the storm brewing in Bakugou.

“Bakugou Katsuki, I’m (Y/n) (L/n)’s boyfriend.” He said as he dug out his wallet, suddenly remembering something you had told him once when you had to visit him in the hospital after a villain encounter went sideways. “But we’ve lived together for over three years, we have a common law marriage.”

He knew that this was the only way he was going to be able to see you, but it wasn’t like he was lying. The receptionist squinted at him before taking his ID and looking it over.

“Alright, if you can state the name of the patient you are visiting for me again I can get you the guest pass and their room number.”

***

Your door slammed open, and you strained your eyes trying to see. The brace around your neck stops you from properly looking over. It didn’t take long to realise who it was when you heard the strangled whine. You recognized it as Katsuki right away. How could you not?

You had been with him for years, through the ups, the downs, and the very far downs that were the past year. You had held him tightly when those noises had escaped him in the past and you shielded him from the world when he was no longer able to keep up his facade.

You could only imagine how broken he looked now, you just wanted to hold him again and protect him from everything.

Until you remembered your last conversation, but then you just felt conflicted. You were mad at him. You were so angry.

But you were scared, so scared.

After all your years as a pro hero, and it was a truck that fucked you up the most. Each breath was painful, and maybe if your mind wasn’t so cloudy on pain meds, you would be able to remember how many ribs the doctor told you were broken, or which leg. Or if you were going to live. God, were you scared.

Footsteps brought you out of your thoughts, focusing your eyes to the man who stood in front of you. He looked like a boy now, so broken and collapsed in on himself.

“(Y/n),” sounded broken.

His brows were furrowed, mouth deep set in a scowl. But you knew better. You saw the tears stains on his cheeks. The redness of his eyes. His coat was inside out. You knew his face was one of worry. Fear.

You remembered the first time you saw him look like that. The first time he opened himself up to be so vulnerable to you. It was sometime after All Might had fallen, and the guilt had been eating him up. Not many other people noticed the way his thoughts were eating him up inside. But you did.

You saw the light in his eyes dim. The dark bags began to form and the way his posture fell. His confidence was falling no matter how much he screamed to keep up his image.

“K-kat-suk-i” You struggled to speak, your voice raspy. Like you hadn’t drank anything in years. Tears bubbled in his eyes, and, somehow that was more painful than when you first woke up. In the middle of the street, there had been a young woman kneeling over you, screaming into her phone. You couldn't hear her though, only the ringing in your ear.

You couldn't remember right before you got hit, it was fuzzy. Though the doctor told you it was normal. You wondered if maybe you were just running without looking. Or if tears clouded your vision. Or maybe, if it hadn't been your fault at all.

“Shit,” The love of your life began to scrub his face with his fists, much like he did the night you found him in the dorms kitchen. Crying over a late night snack as his fists clenched the edge of the counter, struggling to hold himself together.

No matter how much he tried to cover his face after you made your presence known, you could see the tears as they fell to the floor. You could hear his strangled whimpers. And even though you knew the possible consequences, you held his shaking body in your arms. You let him be vulnerable and didn’t say a word.

It was that day that you began to see Bakugou as he truly was. An Asshole? Yes, of course. But also a boy who cared way too much, who held himself to impossible standards, and who never really had a proper support system. You decided to be his support that day, and soon after you became his girlfriend too.

“They, they told me what happened to you,” you watched as little pops of frustration came out of his fists. “And I couldn't help but think that it’s my fault.”

“No,” you wanted to protest, but you instead had your breath hitched in your throat. The desire of water coming to be the very forefront of your thoughts as you reached out your hands, desperate for the hydration that would let you continue. Bakugou, of course noticed and his crimson eyes quickly spotte the glass of water on your nightstand. Once the cool glass brushed against your fingers, you brought it to your lips and drank as if you hadn’t seen a liquid in days.

“Just, listen okay? I… Ive been taking out my work stress on you, I’ve been rude and condesending and just fucking nit picky. You didn’t deserve any of that, especially what I said earlier. It was fucking uncalled for and so far from the truth.” The determination in his gaze was evident, it was the same gleam in his eyes he got whenever he set his mind to something. You adored that look from him.

“I know Katsuki, I know you don’t really think that.” You muttered, unsure of what to say. Were you just supposed to forgive his, what seemed to be, apology? You had no idea how you felt. Your head hurt along with the rest of your body and your throat was still parched despite downing your water seconds ago.

“It doesnt matter, you need to know what I do think. I think youre an incredibly strong woman. And a fucking resilient, relentless one at that. Can’t get you off my shit for two seconds. But I love that about you, you know? I know I’ve been a dick recently but I really do love you. I asmire you too, your work ethic. You never give up and thats what makes you one of the best heroes out there, fuck what the polls say.” He sniffled and quickly ran a closed fist under his nose. “You dont deserve what I’ve been putting you through lately… and I’m fucking sorry. You’re the most important person in my life and you deserve better than the asshole you’ve been getting.”

“You’ve always been an asshole.” You used your glass to hide the smirk on your face that only grew bigger as bakugou couldn't help himself from blowing up.

“I- are you kidding!? I’m trying to fucking apologize here and THATS what you choose to say!?” The pops of his quirk created a melody with the raspy laughs that left your mouth.

“Yeah,” your chuckling continued as bakugou's face softened. Eyes like cooling embers as they dusted across your figure. You tried to ignore that look, it always made your chest swell uncomfortably. Nothing could make you tear up more than the love bakugou had for you.

“Shitty woman,” he sat himself down in the chair besides your bed and took the now empty glass from your hands, “I just want you to know that when- if, you come home… that things are going to be better. I don't ever want to make you feel like you have to avoid me ever again. I want you to feel safe around me. And I swear that I’m going to put you above my hero work from now on-“

“No, Katsuki, I’m sorry I said that. I shouldn’t have said that you can't become the number one hero, it's not true.” You shook your head, the shame being too painful to look anywhere but your hands. Balled in fists on your lap before they were gently tugged into his own. You reluctantly met his eyes, admiring the fire that burned in them.

“This has nothing to fucking do with that, okay? I’m not giving up on being the number one, I’m just going to start working harder to be better for you at the same time. And anyone who thinks I can’t do it is a dumb bitch.”

“God can your ego get Any bigger?” A smile stretched across your face as you began laughing again when he simply shrugged. It hurt like a bitch, the sharp pain making your eyes water, but you just loved everything about the angry man in front of you. Even when he began yelling at you to stop laughing before you hurt yourself even more. It took awhile for you to calm down, and even longer to get bakugou to stop glaring at you for hurting yourself.

“I love you,” he said after a moment of silence, his rough thumbs rubbing circles into the meat of your hand.

“I know.” You sighed, basking in the silence that lasted only a few seconds before bakugou ripped his hands from yours.

“SAY IT BACK!”

***

I hope you enjoyed!

[zaikaglow]

Betrayal

For @mikaberries 4k Celebration Collab

Pairing: Bertholdt Hoover x Reader

Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, dacryphilia, abandonment 

Summary: You feel your relationship has run its course but youre unable to get out and you feel trapped leaving you with only one option, but can you bring yourself to do it?

“You're really sure about this y/n”? Hitch asks, sitting in the driver's seat of her Subaru palms just grazing the wheel as she drums on it with her pink fingernails. Sitting in the passenger's seat you pull your knees to your chest and look out at the Starbucks parking lot. Your face is starting to heat up at the shame of what you just told her. “I just really don’t know how else to do it” you mutter, wishing that maybe you had just kept your little plan to yourself that you didn’t get your best friend Hitch involved. She turns to you this time before she speaks “I just really can’t believe you wanna do that to him, just leave totally ghost the poor guy after what? 4 years? Come on y/n be an adult”. 

You can tell she’s scowling at you now “Hitch what would you do if Marlo asked you to marry him?” she laughs “well I’d tell him no, I’m not ready for that and not just pack up all my shit in the middle of the night and ask my best friend to be my getaway driver”. You were trying to choke back tears of frustration when you weakly mutter “that wouldn't work on Bertholdt”. “Come on y/n you're being ridiculous what do you mean that wouldn't work” her eyebrows knit together as she looks at you with more concern than contempt now. “Remember when I told you I was going to break up with him last year”?

“Yeah but then you two went to dinner and talked it out and you decided to stay together”

“That’s not exactly what happened. I started trying to breakup with him but he started crying and saying how he didn’t even think he could imagine life without me and everyone started staring and I just told him we could work it out”

“Okay so just don’t do it in a public place again” she takes a sip of her iced coffee

“God dammit Hitch! I’m an adult don’t you think I thought of that? Every time I’ve tried to break up with him he just starts either smothering me telling me how much he loves me or starts crying and going on about how he doesn’t know how to go on living.” Getting more exasperated at trying to make her understand you place your head into your palms “I swear that's the whole reason he asked me to marry him”

Hitch sighs “Do you still love him?”

“I don't know anymore Hitch”

“Okay how about you make an actual attempt to end it tonight, I’ll still drive you and you can stay with me until you get stuff figured out but please don’t just disappear on him”

“Fine i'll make a last attempt but if it doesn’t work will you still come get me?”

“Sure what else are friends for y/n” 

It’s later in the evening when you make it back to your shared apartment and your heart is beating in your chest. You're going to do it, you're actually going to be an adult and tell Bertholdt that you're breaking up. You're not getting married and you don’t care about how much he’s crying or the way he wraps his big arms around your body and pulls you close and whispers “stay” over and over. But then you walk in and he’s there and the way his eyes light up when he sees you makes your heart swell and you start to wonder if you can really go through with this “y/n! I’m glad your home I made dinner it’s your favorite” he walks over to you and places his hands on your shoulder “Don’t worry i'm not trying to sway you, I told you that you can take your time to think about my proposal” he smiles “unless you want to say yes right now I’d be okay with that”. Oh god the swelling in your heart is gone and is now replaced with the feeling of being drowned by him, even his touch no longer feels like that of a lover but of a weird stranger. “Uh actually I think” you're interrupted by a kiss, as his hands slide up from your shoulders up the back of your neck into your hair. His lips move to your neck “I’m only joking baby, take your time”. God this is what he did. You could tell he knew what you were trying to do and he was going to try to seduce you into staying with him. His lips lose contact with your neck as he reaches down to pick you up and place you on the counter. He brushes the hair out of your face with one hand, the other resting on your cheek “you know I love you y/n”. You place your hand over his “I love you too” it wasn’t entirely a lie. You truly do think that you still love him in a way which is why what you were going to do was going to hurt. “Let’s go to the bedroom” at which he grins and picks you up again carrying you to the shared bedroom. And you hope to god he doesn’t see the suitcase stored under the bed.

His hips press into the space between your thighs right where he fits perfectly, as you two would joke. His hands go to start toying with the hemline of your shirt, when you look up into his soft blue eyes and push his bangs out of his face “hey, how about we try something” you practically whisper he ruts his cholted cock against you as he kisses that sensitive spot behind your ear reply “yeah what do you want to try” . You grab him by both sides of his jaw bringing him back up to meet your gaze “how about you fuck me like its the last time?” his lustful look is replaced with a mix of concern and a smile trying to hide it “I don’t know if I like that game y/n”. Moving your thumb in small circles against his cheek you smile “I mean just like as passionate as if this were our last time together” you can see his gaze soften at your reassurance. “Okay” ending his reply with a kiss. Large but soft hands run down your neck thumbs tracing your pulse point as he moves towards your breasts giving them a gentle squeeze before moving back to that hemline pushing it up so he can start planting kisses by your belly button making his was up your torso moving the shirt up along with his head until it reaches the bottom of your rib cage where you take the hem in your hand and remove the shirt and bra yourself. Bertholdt pinches your nipple between his top teeth and his bottom lip rolling it into his mouth and soothing the sting of his teeth with his tongue, as his other hand grips your other breast rolling the nipple with his thumb. Legs wrapped around him tightening as the overwhelming stimulation in your tits is causing you to start grinding against his hardened dick in his pants desperate for friction. He pulls away sitting up to pull off his own shirt “hey slow down if this is the last time im fucking you I’d rather make it last” he says with a small chuckle before going to work at your own pants as he slides them down your legs and then lays himself down between your legs. He starts with a wet kiss to the side of your right thigh before making his way down to your core fingers running over your clothed slit before grabbing the waist band and pulling them down. “That's my good girl” he sighs as you spread your legs further apart and grips the sheets at the sensation of his hot breath fanning over your now exposed cunt. A feather light kiss greats your clit before he starts to use the flat of his tongue to lick circles around it as he dips his long delicate fingers into your core and all you can do is grip his locks of dark hair. His fingers dragging against your swollen walls bringing you closer and closer until he switches to suctioning on your swollen bud pushing you over the edge. You squirm under his grip around your thighs as he keeps licking to help you ride out your high. You pull his head off of you, feeling his resistance and attempting to make contact with you again. His jeans already have a wet spot from the way he was rutting his hips into the mattress, so excited at the pleasure he was giving you. He takes off his jeans before sliding back over you, his weeping cock laying on your stomach. You pull his head down into a kiss as he takes his cock and rubs the wet head against your clit before sliding it into you. His hip movements are rhythmic, dragging out slowly and thrusting back in faster and you cant help but to blurt out “I love you, I love you, I love you” over and over at his thrusts; it's almost like a prayer, no, an absolution. The building of guilt at the betrayal to this man's love that you were about to perform, and when he says it back you can't help it and you feel tears start to streak down your face. Bertholdt shifts up and grabs your legs throwing them over his shoulder, head ever so slightly turning to the left to kiss your ankle “it’s okay sweetheart I’ve got you” he says before continuing his thrusting. The tears are still streaming down your face as your head throws back into the pillow at the new deeper angle. Legs still over his shoulder he brings his forehead down to meet yours and he’s so deep you can feel him start to brush against your cervix hurting in the best sort of way. His hips begin to stutter as you feel the warmth of his release into you, and you can feel it start to drip down your thighs as he pulls out of you and wraps you in his arms. “I love you y/n, I really do”

It’s been about 2 hours since you’ve settled down for bed, you're pretty sure he’s sound asleep by the strange way his body is contorted, and you think about how you’ll never wake up hitting the floor because your boyfriend accidentally pushed you out of bed with his crazy sleeping positions again and your chest hurts. “Berty, Berty are you up?” you mutter sweetly but the tall man just continues to slumber. You pull your suitcase out from under the bed, it's packed with all the essentials and you’d probably have to convince Hitch to come and collect the rest of your things for you, no way you could stand to face him after what you were about to do. God you felt like such a bitch you couldn’t have one hard conversation? You had to do it this way? It was so hard because you did love Bertholdt. You weren't lying earlier, you really did love him! But you know this won’t work so you'll continue to feel like something isn't quite right, not exactly whole. So this is the only way you can do it, the only way you can escape from this relationship without the love you feel for him pulling you back in.

You sit in the foyer of the apartment building on your stuffed suitcase and pull out your phone and call her “Hey Hitch” choking back a sob causes a cracking in your voice “can you come get me now”

“Of course, I’m sorry your talk must have been hard”

“We’ll we didn't have the talk per say”

“What do you mean?”

“Well we had sex and I just couldn’t do it Hitch it just has to be this way”

There's a long pause from the other end of the line

“You know y/n, I love you but right now I really don't like you”

You start to sob “I’m sorry I don’t know why I couldn’t, but I left a note”

Hitch sighs before replying “It’s okay we’ll talk more later, i'll be there in 15”

[gh0styyt0astyy]

hm.. now i'm thinkin, right.. with your other two fics of deimos being an absolute little shit, what if either hank, sanford, or both got back at him for it... sanford getting involved would be a pretty big betrayal after helping him out with hank... (ps despite the fact that i did make it before i saw it i'm 99% sure i posted my drawing of dei and san ganging up on hank a couple hours after you posted the fic of them and i'm now unofficially half jokingly declaring it as fanart of that fic because good scenario PFDNKNDGKDJSF)

✨ [Karma’s a bitch] ✨

( HEY I HOPE U DONT MIND I MATCHED THIS UP W/ ANOTHER REQUEST THEY JUST WORKED TOO PERFECTLY TOGETHER )

———————————

⭐️ [Summary] — In which Deimos comes to understand the meaning of “your actions have consequences.” (Lee!Deimos and Ler!Sanford + Ler! Hank)

guess the dude cant take what he dishes out…

key:

deimos

hank

sanford

⭐️ [Warnings] — TICKLE FIC; MILD LANGUAGE; also hank accidentally gets kicked in the face; if you don’t like then please just scroll on T_T

⭐️ [Prompts:] no. 8 + 10 / hank and sanford get their revenge

✨ Enjoy ! ✨

—————————

If there was one thing that Deimos was good at; it was being an absolute little shit. (Minus his hacking, fighting and semi decent medical skills.) A cocky little shit who was way too good at all of this.

“All of this” being; tasering Hank in the ribs, suddenly grabbing Sanford’s sides and running away, sometimes getting both Hank and Sanford in one good day.

Hank was done with Deimos’ shit, and Sanford just wanted revenge. So that’s what would happen. Sanford was gonna get his revenge, and he knew Hank would want in on that too. (I mean, c’mon. Hank is ALL ABOUT revenge.)

“Hank,” Sanford walked up to the man, poking him in the back. Hank’s shoulders jumped as he turned around quickly, shoulders falling back down but remaining tense. “I want your help.”

Hank stood there quietly, staring at Sanford. It was always so hard to understand what Hank was thinking behind those goggles.

“What is it.” Hank said, tilting his head slightly; Sanford grinned widely before he looked around the place. He grabbed Hank’s wrist (electing to ignore the jolt in Hank’s body) and dragged him to a different room.

“I want revenge.”

Hank perked up.

“I wanna get back at Deimos. You in?”

Hank thought, silently staring at Sanford. (At least, Sanford would assume he was being stared at.) “…So…?”

“What’s your plan?”

Sanford pumped his fist in the air as he leaned up towards Hank.

“Deimos!” Sanford called from another room, causing the other to lift his head from the little tablet he held. “Yeah?” Deimos called back. “C’mere for a sec, will you?” Deimos furrowed his brow. “Uh, sure.” He set down the tablet and headed off towards Sanford’s voice.

“San?” Deimos called out, entering the room he had heard Sanford in. “Over here, Dei.”

It was their storage room. Where the three would usually drop their weapons and stuff for the day before they conked out. “Hey San. What’s up?” Sanford motioned Deimos over. “Come here, I need you to look at something.” Deimos walked over, crouching down next to Sanford. “I thought I saw something glowing in there.” Sanford said, pointing into the closet. Deimos raised an eyebrow before peeking in. Something glowing? “What color?”

“Not sure. Didn’t get a good look at it.”

“Hm.” Deimos hummed. And then he saw it— a dull red glow that shone in Deimos’ face. “What the hell?” The glow got brighter and brighter before—

“AGK! SHIT!”

Hank leapt out of the dark closet and tackled Deimos to the ground, wrestling with him for a moment before Hank overpowered him and kept him to the floor. “GOOD GOD! Holy shit, Hank! What the hell!?” Deimos struggled under Hank’s hold.

“That was easier than it should’ve been.” Was all that Hank said, looking up at Sanford. “Excuse me?” Deimos said, a small tone of offense in his voice as Sanford walked up to stand beside the two. He crouched down with a small smirk on his face, Deimos looked between Hank and Sanford. “What are you two planning?” He asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

“Deimos. You ever heard the saying, what was it… “Karma’s a bitch?” Hank asked.

“…Yeesss…?” Deimos answered, suspicion rising.

“How about the saying “your actions have consequences.”

“Yes Hank, I’ve heard these sayings before. Why are you—“

Suddenly it hit Deimos, the way Sanford sat at his head and took his wrists from Hank’s hands. The way Hank kept him on the floor. “Oh. Oh shit.” Deimos muttered.

“Yeaah. I’m sure you see where this is going.” Sanford said, holding both of Deimos’ wrists with one hand.

Deimos, honestly, was extremely nervous. But he huffed, refusing to show through his facade.

“I wonder how long you can go without laughing.” Hank mused, tilting his head again (in a way that looks threatening, but no harm was showing.)

“I can last longer than you did, Wimbleton.” Deimos said with a huff, flinching inwards on himself at a sudden jab at the spot where his shoulder met with his ribs. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s ticklish.” Sanford shot at him, tightening on Deimos wrists as he tugged. “Oh no, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“First of all, I am not ticklish. Second of all, you guys are just wasting your time.” Deimos said, brows furrowing. Hank just stared before looking at Sanford. (In all honesty, Hank had no clue what to do. He’d just follow Sanford’s lead.)

“You aren’t, huh?” Sanford said, poking at Deimos again. Sanford didn’t miss the way Deimos flinched inwards again and (seemingly) bit the inside of his cheek. “Nope. Unlike you two.” Deimos grinned. “Alright then, you cocky bastard.” Hank butted in, latching onto Deimos’ legs. “You obviously wouldn’t mind us doing this, then. Would you?”

Deimos blinked, before seemingly understanding the situation he was in. “Look okay— usually I’d let you two have at it but I- um— okay okAY LISTEN-“ Deimos’ voice raised an octave, nerves jumping in his throat.

This was gonna suck.

“…would an apology make you let me go?” Deimos tried, watching as Sanford and Hank passed each other glances. “No.” Hank said, Sanford just grinned.

“Okay, I’m done waiting. Hank? Y’ready?” Deimos sucked in a breath, nervously. Hank was the master of making people antsy with how long he took to answer. The goggled man nodded.

Deimos tried to prepare himself, but he let out an awkward squawk as Sanford tased and circled on Deimos’ ribs. “AHAHGK—!” He yelped, clamping his mouth shut. Hank kneaded and clawed Deimos’ hips and lower sides. Deimos looked determined to keep any laughter inside. He shook his head. “Noh- nope— I’m naha— I’m not ticklish!” “Bullshit!” Sanford said, tickling the other side of Deimos’ ribs; it earned him a small snort.

Hank didn’t relent from his spots, either. He kept one hand on Deimos’ hips and the other started tweaking the skin of his legs.

“bweAHA- SHIHIT!” Deimos yelped again, trying to move away from Hank’s hand. “Oh? What was thaaaaat, Dei-Dei?” Sanford drew out, earning a frustrated and embarrassed whine from Deimos. “Huh… that’s funny,” Hank said, looking at Sanford, then Deimos. “I thought you said you could last longer than me? You didn’t… lie, did you?”

“I think he lied about a lot of things.”

���I dihihihid nohohaHAHT!” Deimos suddenly squeaked, arching his back before flopping back down. Sanford was vibrating his fingers into his stomach. “waHAHAIT WAHIHIHIT! SHIHIHIT!” Deimos tugged his arms again, trying to release himself from Sanford’s grip. “Lehehet gohoho!” Deimos whined.

“That’s funny, I thought I had said the same thing!” Sanford hummed in thought. “But alas, you didn’t listen…”

“I—Ihihihi’m sahahohorry!” “Hm.” Hank hummed. “You know, laughter in an apology doesn’t make it sincere. I don’t think you are.”

“Cohohohome ohohohon! I dihihihdn’t meEAHAHN IHIHIT—!” Deimos kicked his legs, trying to get Hank’s hands off as he tried to move away from Sanford’s. “Remember when you did this to me?” Hank asked, clawing at Deimos’ hips and sometimes shooting up to his ribs.

Deimos pulled his elbows to his face as best he could, hiding the creeping blush. He squealed when Sanford pinched his stomach. “SAHAHAHANFOHOHORD YOU TRAHAHAHAHITOR!” Deimos belted out loud laughter as Sanford only grinned.

Slowly, the tickling sensations stopped on Deimos’ body, the man in question letting out shaky laughs and breathing. Deimos sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his shirt ride up. “Wait wahAHAHIT WAHAHAIT! Lehehet’s tahahalk about thihihihis!”

Sanford thought, and so did Hank. The two looked at each other before shaking their heads. “Nah.” Was all Sanford said before blowing a raspberry on Deimos’ stomach.

“OHOHOHOHOH SHIHIHIT- OH MY GOHOHOHOD!” Deimos let out, his body going limp while his legs frantically kicked.

It was all fun and games until—

*CRRRRK!*

Sanford and Deimos stopped immediately, after realizing that Hank had accidentally been booted in the face. His goggles having broken and fallen off. If Hank was in pain he sure didn’t show it.

“OHOHO SHIT! Hahahnk! Hahank I’m sorry!” Deimos gasped, sitting up after Sanford had let him go.

Hank laid there on his back for a minute before sitting up and touching his face, already warm with a bruise forming.

“Well. Shit.” Was all Hank said.

“Are you okay?” Deimos asked, Sanford sitting in between them. Hank nodded. It wasn’t the worst he had been through before.

“…Okay, well- I think we all got our revenge?” Sanford said.

With Hank’s new lack of goggles, it was a little easier to see he was, indeed, looking at the other two and thinking. He looked at Sanford with dull eyes and looked like he wanted to say something before standing up. “Sure.” He said, offering a hand to the other two men.

They both stood up, Deimos still giggling slightly. Sanford hit his shoulder lightly. “You liar…” He grinned as Hank picked up his goggles in the background.

[ri-ahhh]

Okay, but with Grayson complaining about being lonely and wanting a girlfriend I CANT HELP but to think about how horny he probably is on top of that. Like- its been on my mind for days, so can you PLEASE write something about gray meeting a bitch, like through friend or something, and realizing he likes her and then having these dirty thoughts about her, and like he doesn't want to but he just cant help it... I will die and love you forever, you're writing is my absouloute favortie.

Ur so sweet babe haha thank you😊 hope this is along the lines of what you wanted.

Getting his dick wet has never been a problem for Grayson Dolan; not since receiving his first sloppy, inexperienced blowjob when he was on tour at the tender age of 16. There’s been a steady flow of girls in and out of his life ever since, fulfilling both his needs sexually and the fleeting desire for noncommittal intimacy. And that’s how he likes it for the longest time. Easy and no-strings-attached.

But he’s older now, and even though quarantine hadn’t stopped him from hitting up his favorite one or two booty calls every now and then, he feels empty in a way that’s becoming all-too familiar. It’s not a new feeling, but every time he leaves their homes (because that’s his number one rule — hookups stay out of his bed), there’s a longing that wasn’t satisfied and that’s becoming more and more apparent to him.

So he stops fucking around — literally. He believes in the power of the mind and manifestation almost to a fault, and considers that maybe he’s letting casual hookups interfere with what he really wants: companionship.

It seems like a breeze at first. Grayson swears he feels lighter, clearer in the head, more focused on what he wants out of his life. He puts his mind to being the best version of himself and hoping that it’s enough to attract the same kind of person that he can put all of his love and effort into in return.

As months roll on, however, he realizes that sometimes the universe just doesn’t listen right away. And for the first time in his life, Grayson discovers the monotony and reality of what it’s like for the ‘regular’ guys out there, whose only sexual pleasure comes from their own hand and the porn category of choice for the night. He was used to that as a filler, for sure, but not as his one and only outlet.

Plain and simple, he’s horny. All the time. Which makes him grumpy, and irritable, and frustrated with both himself and everything around him. So when Ethan tells him in passing that his girlfriend is flying in from New York with her friend to visit, it just makes him grunt. The fact that his brother is in such a happy and healthy relationship himself is a point of contention for Grayson in his head. He’s thrilled for Ethan, but he can’t help but dwell on the creeping jealousy in his chest. Here he is, starved for both intimacy and sex now, and Ethan will get served both of those the following night in excess while Grayson lies in his bed alone.

The next night, they’re all having dinner at the kitchen table — all four of them, including her. The friend. The friend that Ethan had mentioned would be coming but that Grayson had so brusquely ignored. The friend that had his eyebrows raised the second she walked shyly through his front door, drawn in immediately by her beauty.

The friend he can’t keep his eyes off of now as she goes to town on the roasted sweet potatoes and black bean burgers he had made himself. She’s quiet but witty and has a cute laugh that makes his heart flutter a little in a way he hasn’t experienced in a long time.

He feels a nudge against his ribs, and startles when he jerks to the side to see Ethan staring at him pointedly with a knowing little smile on his lips.

“You’ve got ketchup on your shirt, bro,” he says, nodding to the blob of red on Grayson’s white shirt that had dropped from the forkful of sweet potatoes, which had only made it halfway to his mouth as he listened to her talk.

“Shit,” he mumbles embarrassedly, flushing a color near the tomato-red that’s now stained his shirt. Of course, the first time he’s feeling real feelings around a beautiful girl, he has to revert to awkward, clumsy Grayson rather smooth, relaxed Grayson.

He starts to scrub up the mess with his napkin, but she reaches out from her seat across the table from him and grabs his wrist in her petite hand. “Oop, wait! Dab, don’t swipe, or you’ll make it worse. I know how to get that out as long as it’s not smeared around into the fabric.”

Grayson swallows, his arm flaring with goosebumps at her gentle but insistent touch, but tries to keep his cool. She’s grinning at him amusedly, then sits back in her seat when Grayson follows her instructions.

“I thought ketchup was one of those things that you’re just kinda fucked if you get it on your clothes, Ethan says, filling the silence left by his brother.

She shakes her head. “Nope. Peroxide will get it right out, especially if you wash it after. Do you have any?”

Ethan cocks a brow and looks at Grayson, hoping he’ll use the opportunity to speak to her. Thankfully, he does, even if it is lacking a little bit of gracefulness. “Huh, peroxide? Oh... uh, yeah, I — yeah, in my bathroom.”

“I’ll help you when we’re all done, if you want,” she offers before taking a modest bite of her burger.

Grayson nods, and can’t help but watch the way she sucks a bit of barbecue sauce off her thumb once she swallows. His heart picks up and he has to shift in his seat a little when she winks at him, his pants tightening under the table. Damn it. He’s been trying to avoid that reaction and those thoughts, determined to do this right.

He fixes a smile to his lips, and hopes his face isn’t giving him away. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Everyone helps clean up the table and dishes, and Grayson leads her into his room while they leave the other two to have some alone time. He prays that he made his bed that morning and that there’s no dirty underwear on the floor or used tissues on the nightstand.

Luckily, the floor is relatively clear, and the bed is made, if haphazardly so. She follows him into the en-suite bathroom and watches him dig under the cabinet in the first aid bucket he has down there.

She’s wearing jean shorts and a loose-knit sweater, and when Grayson starts to stand back up he takes a moment to appreciate the tone in the muscles of her legs and the flashes of skin he can see through her top, hoping he isn’t being too obvious.

She takes the brown bottle from him and tugs on the hem of his shirt. “It’ll be easier if you take this off.”

Grayson nods, and can’t help the laugh that escapes him when she turns her back to him. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you your modesty! I don’t know you, for all I know you might be super insecure.”

“At the risk of sounding like a total douche, I promise I’m not,” he answers, reaching behind his neck to tug the collar up and over his head. “Here you go.”

She turns back around, and Grayson doesn’t miss the way her eyes travel over his sculpted torso. He can’t help but smirk a little, thrilled at the cute blush that tinges her cheeks when she meets his eyes and realizes she’s been caught.

He hasn’t had a woman look at him like that in months, however, and he’s grateful when she tells him, “This will need to go in the laundry tonight if you want to make sure the stain comes out, so you’ll need another shirt anyways.”

It gives him an out to duck into his closet, taking a moment to collect himself before grabbing the first T-shirt his hand touches and slipping it over his head.

“Cold water first,” she informs, smiling at him through the mirror when he re-emerges as she leans over the sink with the water running. She shuts off the water and squeeze out the excess, then takes the peroxide and pours some onto the stain.

“Woah,” Grayson says, eyebrows raised in surprise at the fizzing bubbles visibly picking up the bright red from the fibers of his shirt. “Where did you learn this trick?”

“I work in the toddler room at a daycare. We keep this stuff on sight and scene to avoid 20 outfit changes a day on a few two year-olds. I’m sure you can imagine the amount of ketchup and blood stains a toddler procures on the daily.”

Grayson chuckles. He feels himself growing more fond of her by the second. “You like kids?”

“I love them,” she replies with a grin. “Working in childcare is pretty rough, but it’s been a great college job. Lots of experience for my degree. And, you know, good practice for the future one day.”

If he hadn’t been sold by now, that does it. Beautiful, smart, and good with kids?

He takes a moment to assess himself and his thoughts. He doesn’t think he’s letting his dick lead him right now, even if he does want her that way. He’s just as attracted to her mind as he is the curves of her body and the features of her pretty face, and finds himself wanting to talk to her for hours on end.

He doesn’t realize there’s a heated silence, both of them standing there staring at each other, until she clears her throat and holds up his shirt. Grayson glances down at it to see just a faint brown rim around what use to be a bright red mark. “All done.”

“Thank you,” he says, taking it from her and tossing it in his laundry basket. “Come on, hopefully we don’t walk into something we can’t unsee.”

“You make a pretty good meat shield,” she says jokingly, following close behind him. “All big and broad. I can just hide behind you and keep my eyes unscarred.”

Grayson laughs loudly, his ego swelling, and he has to resist the urge to take her hand in his. That would be too much. Right?

Thankfully, the couple is just cuddling innocently on the loveseat when they enter the living room.

“Movie?” Ethan asks when the two of them settle on the couch, a respectful and calculated distance between them — not too close and not too far.

“Sure.”

They’re all in a fun and lighthearted mood tonight, so they settle on Moana. Grayson wants nothing more than to throw his arm around the beautiful girl next to him, who sings along playfully to the songs she knows, her enthusiastic movements shuffling her closer to him. He doesn’t know if it’s intentional, but he doesn’t really care; her presence in both body and spirit feels good to him.

Ethan’s girlfriend only makes it about halfway through the movie before she’s passed out, tired from the long flight earlier that day. He looks down at her fondly and chuckles when he sees her nuzzled sound asleep against his chest.

“I’m gonna take her to bed,” he announces quietly before standing with her in his arms. “Goodnight, guys.”

They both murmur back “goodnight” and watch Ethan disappear down the hall. The movie plays on for a couple of minutes, before she’s turning to him and making small talk. Which turns into broader conversation about bigger things. Which leads to them settling so close that their knees touch. She finds an excuse to pick an invisible fleck of something off his hand, which turns into their fingers playing with each other’s teasingly.

Which turns to Grayson checking his watch in a quiet but not unpleasant lull, and muttering, “Oh, shit,” in surprise.

She checks her phone lying on the couch cushion behind her. The time shines back at her 1:27 AM.

“Damn, when did it get so late?” she wonders aloud, looking at him amusedly.

Grayson shakes his head. “Time flies,” he says. Whether it’s the late hour, or him getting his mojo back, or just the fact that he’s so naturally comfortable with her, he suddenly feels bold enough to reach out and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you tired?”

She blushes and bites her lip, allowing him to keep his warm palm pressed to her neck while his thumb strokes the ridge of her jaw gently.

“Not really,” she answers, scooting that much closer to him. “Not ready to go to my bed, anyways.”

She’s referring to the guest room she’s already settled her things into. Grayson smiles. Rules be damned, he thinks, until he realizes in the next moment that there’s no way this amazing girl is going to be just a hookup. There’s no rule to be broken.

“Why don’t you come to mine, then?”

[elrosil]

(Soundtrack for the story) TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE, CURSING, ILLIDARI CRUDENESS

Elrosil sat leaned up against the wall after a long day of Illidari training, she drank a bottle of water and looked up at the sky, tracing the Black Temple with her light green eyes and looks over to the side at the fellow elves training with her. A man suddenly leaned against the wall next to her, it made a loud thud. She looks over slowly, "The fuck? Oh hey....sup Sinmar?"

The male Sin'dorei, very handsome leaned in a kissed Elrosil on the cheat, "Hey you. So have you put any thought into it?"   "Into what? What demon to hunt for my ritual? Yeah think I know what I want."

"What demon?" he smirks and moves matted by sweat hair from her face.

She looks over slowly to him, "Shivarra."

He looks dumb founded and blinks a few times, "What? You want to go for the same demon as me? El....come on...."

She narrows her brows, "Come on what?" she swats away his hand and studies his eye, "You dont think I can hunt one do you?"

He shakes his head, "Come on Elrosil....your like.....a C class Illidari at best....you spend more time on your back then taking things serious....those arent easy demons to capture....why not go for something more your speed....like...an imp...."

Her mouth hangs open slightly, as she shoves him away from her personal space, "Excuse you....just because you think I dont take myself serious, doesnt mean I dont....you dont know the first thing about me....." she walks over and picks up her warglaive and runs off.

Two more Ilidari join Sinmar, one grabbing a bottle of water and the other looks at him and then points at Elrosil, "Where is she going? Did you piss her off again?"

He looks at his friends, "She is off to get herself killed, she thinks she can hunt a Shivarra for her ritual...."

The other two male Sin'Dorei snort a laugh.

"Yeah what I said...inside....she is off to get herself killed."

Elrosil slaps her warglaives onto her back and shakes her head quite annoyed, "I will show those fucking haters....dont think I am a capable of catching a big ass demon, that little dick prick said hunt an imp, will shove an imp down his throat where he spends the next week shitting a imp tooth enema....fucking Sin'dorei....."

She grumbled and muttered for hours about Sin'dorei not noticing she two was hunted. Shadowmoon always had a darkness to it, but suddenly it was darker than normal, a shadow cast upon her. Elrosil knew it something was behind her. She turns quickly the massive sapphire six armed demon stood behind her, swinging down all six sword clad arms to drive her blades into the feeble elf. Elrosil dipped forward, rolling onto her shoulder between the legs of the demon, grasping a handful of stones, tossing them at the the back of the legs of the demon as came out on the other side.

The Shivarra swings its two upper arms down at Elrosil, falling back and roll out of harms way, swords raked the dirt she just knelt at. Taking a stand she leaps over a nearby stone to get out of the way of the six armed sword smith. She turns to face the demon look face to face, the demon would kill her, she knew it. But she was going to show those other elves, show everyone she could accomplish the greatest of feats. She pushes off the blackened gravel and runs towards the demon, swinging her arms in different directions, maze and razor steel showed only one clear path. Elrosil spring boarding off the rock she just hopped over, she clamped her thighs onto the abdomen of the Shivarra, her leather pants shredded in the fan of blades she had to get through.

Not able to remove her glaives she did the only thing she knew, to take it to the streets, punching her fist in to the packed core of the demon. It felt like punching stone. She grit and grunted as she was relentless on the demon, not stopping, no matter how much her knuckles bleed. The Shivarra cackled, turning her sword, where the flat of it cut into back of Elrosil shirt, like a clothes hanger wields a top, the blade hugged between her shoulder blades. Elrosil hissed in pain as the demon peel the elf from her body.

Dropped to the ground, Elrosil looks up at the demon who could of easily snapped her back. The sneer of pearly fangs as the demons lullaby voice spoke, "You are brave or stupid, I will give you that. Now stand and fight and die with your honor."

Elrosil pushes herself up slowly, blood painting her leather garbs backside. She spits to the side and reaches behind her to remove the glaives. The demon swung with incredible speed, disarming the glaives, the clatter of the metal, heard behind her, Elrosil watched them fly through the air and back at the demon, "How am I to fight you with no weapons? What about honor?"

"You did not seem to need those weapons a moment ago...fight me with that same passion, not with your weapons...."

Elrosil knew she couldn't win this way. She was at a disadvantage. She snarls and had no other choice at the time, she clenches a tight fist and nods, "Very well."

The Shivarra confident she could kill the sole elf she swings down all six blades at the spot that Elrosil stood. Elrosil skips forward, stepping onto the knee of the demon, her left heel driving down into the rib cage, in full swing with a kick flip, claps the top of her right foot into the chin of the Shivarra, landing on the ground with bent knees, grabbing a stone, large enough to be used as a murder weapon, but small enough that her agility was not compromised.

With the slanted hat demon she turns to swing those blades at Elrosil. The stone is lifted up in the air, catching the first sword, pushing into it, Elrosil kicks out her leg into the knee as hard as she could muster, drawing back as the demon staggered forward, swinging the stone to collide with the Shivarra's face as she lowered to Elrosil level. She spins quickly as the demon brought a hooked hand around, in full swing with her stone kissing the side of her face, the stone hammered with a blade, sparks of earthen dust spray into the Illidari in trainings face.

She coughs, using that movement, and escape peel back, taking her rock with her. The sword impales the ground, allowing Elrosil to strike once more. Spinning twice around to get speed as she slams that stone right back into the face of the Shivarra. The demon sputters a glob of fel blood to the ground where they fought and snarls looking back at Elrosil. The demon stood up, striking the ground in front of Elrosil, which she jumped back to avoid, the fours arm lift overhead cleaving downwards to strike her. She lifts her stone to meet all four blades. The sheer force alone cut through the stone, dulling the first set of blades to strike past Elrosil, but the last two clipped into her shoulders.

She howled in pain, looking up as she demon had trapped her in metal. The Shivarra wasted no time and has the other four arms hold Elrosil in place and stand up lifting her in the air to look the elf face to face. She would commend her before killing her. She never fought like this.

"A shame really....you fought different, everyone who fights the Legion, are skilled, trained, disciplined, but you are rare....you fought like a survivor, thrown in this situation, a situation you were never pre...."

Trying to go on with her speech, Elrosil despite her pain head butt the demon, only to get the roaring cackle out of her, "As I said a survivor.....and sadly this is your end...."

"Or yours!" Elrosil snarls as she reaches into her tattered crimson soaked tunic, she never had just glaives, she pulled from the back of her pants two daggers, in such close range, she drove both daggers in the same fashion that the Shivarra attacked and jabbed the daggers into the eye socks of the demon. The demon howled in pain jolting around in a panic, releasing from the swords in Elrosil body, to only have her dig and swirl those daggers deeper into the eyes, removing from the socket and swinging around her arm to strike the demons face a second, third and fourth time, until it fell to the ground, fell back and cradled Elrosil from the fall.

She had won, she would should them now.

What was weeks later, the Illidari in training lined up with Kayn Sunfury before them, as he looks at the lineup, "It would be appear Elrosil is missing, seems her hunt was not successful."

Sinmar shakes his head, "She should of stuck to hunting an imp, she was never skilled enough to take on something so big...."

Kayn's gaze snaps to Sinmar, "She was just as good as all of you, do not judge my trained fighters because you only saw one part of her, if she went to fight a Shivarra, they are formidable demons to fight, anyone one of you could fall to them....."

He silents as the bouncy head of a Shivarra rolled between them, like a bowling ball, the eye sockets were reshaped, the face slightly split and shadow of Illidians horns cast forward, thinking it to be him, the Illidari in training and Kayn quickly bow to there knees to show respect. The sly and snide voice of Elrosil as she said, "You dont have to all bow at once...."

Sinmar looks up in shock, and sees it is Elrosil, her horns glorious, in the form of Illidans, he knelt in shock. The others looking up at the same time, to witness this, Kayn Sunfury proud. Elrosil walks up the steps and stops at Sinmar looking down at him as she snarls, "You will never tell me ever again what I can and cant do....I fucking killed a Shivarra what have you done with you life...." Sinmar started to speak only to have Elrosil spit directly into his mouth, "Thanks needed a garbage can to spit into." She walks past him to take the front of the line for training, "So what we working on today?"

@daily-writing-challenge​

[babysizedfics]

hey! i just wanted to pop by and say that i love your blog loads 🥺🥺 also, i have a question! does roman ever give vee tickles? when they’re big OR small? 💗

aaawW thank u so much for saying so !!

heads up i accidentally made this a ficlet halfway through lol

warning for tickling and teasing

and YES roman tickles vee a lot hsjshdhs you see it on the ic blog quite a lot - if they're hanging out they are actually pretty touchy feely. even when big vee usually ends up in romans lap and he will purposefully be cheeky because he knows roman ends up tickling him as revenge jdhds

just yesterday roman was holding the video game controller out of reach of virgil and fondly teasing him abt being too short to reach it, so vee twisted his septum piercing with his tongue to freak roman out. roman is very grossed out by things easily and dropped the controller to get vee to stop

vee started playing the video game, still sitting in romans lap with a smug smile on his little face... but he was kinda disappointed roman didn't put up more of a (tickle) fight.

so he licked romans cheek

roman freaked out, went to scrub his cheek withm soap, compained on the blog about vee being gross and 'baby snot on his face', then vee just denied it all (purposefully being cheeky to try to get roman to retaliate) until roman started chasing him for revenge

they ended up in virgils room with roman pinning him to the floor. virgil THOUGHT roman was going to lick his cheeks back, but instead roman asked him to admit he did it. virgil denied it and roman started wiggling a finger under his ear

vee squeaked and a giggle escaped

"admit it!" roman demanded

of cours vee knew what would happen if he didnt. so: "no, im innocent!"

then romans other hand circled a finger around the side of his ribs. virgil gasped and started giggling constantly and wriggling under roman

"Last chance, vee-vee!" roman warns with eyebrows raised and a big smile

virgils gigges are squeaky and breathless already, he really is too sensitive for a lot of tickling. but he meets romans eyes for a brief second before they fall shut with another gasp when romans finger brushes a particularly bad tickle spot. "n-no-ho" virgil protests... then he licks his deptum piercing again just to add fuel to the fire

roman cries out in disgust then immediately starts scribbling both his hands quickly over the sides of virgils.

virgil screams and bucks and gasps and blushes so hard

at this point logan appears in the doorway to check what is happening

"h-help, lo-ho" virgil pleads, eyes watering and cheeks aching from laughing so much

"no, don't help Lo!" roman argues, chuckling at vee and kindly slowing his fingers enough to give vee room to breathe between giggles "this is justice for a heinous act!"

logan sniffs in amusement, "well i am not one to stand in the way of justice"

virgils eyes fly open and land on logan "no! pl-hee-he-ease, M-ha-Mama!"

hearing vee call logan mama immediately makes roman stop his fingers, because if vee is starting to regress theres no way he would enjoy such intense tickling

logan steps closer and leans down to better speak to vee. "are you alright, little one?" he asks in a very babytalk voice, then roman stops pinning him and pinches his cheek a little

"hi vee-vee, do you feel tiny?"

and virgil goess BRIGHT RED because he isnt regressing at all, he just used the Mama card to try to get logan to feel sorry for him. he covers his face with his hands and shakes his head and mumbles through his fingers "not little, sorry... just wanted.."

the other two frown. "wanted what, virgil" logan asks.

"do you want me to stop?" roman asks sincerely

virgil wriggles on the floor a little and pulls his hand down from his face enough to chew his thumbnail and reveal one eye and one very pink cheek "no.. just wanted, um... attention" he admits quietly

roman immediately lights up "Ohhhhhh-"

vee whines and covers his face again. roman takes his hands and pulls them away. "let me get this right... did you want more teases?"

vee's silence speaks loudly

"oh my god youre insatiable" roman laughs, but before virgil has time to feel insecure about it roman's fingers start teasing at his ribs again

"i think you have this under control," logan chuckles, then leaves.

"so teasing how tiny you are earier wasn't enough?" roman muses, his fingernails tracing lightly over each individual rib. virgil holds his lips tight to contain a squeal, but it just comes out as a highpitched whimper. "its not enough to just tease how your little arms can't reach when i hold a controller above my head?"

virgil cant respond because one of romans fingers is back under his ear and tickling right under his earlobe and making him titter and squirm

"and i dont think its enough to tease what an itty bitty widdle baby you are, either," roman says in a babytalk voice, laughing when vee whines and tries to hide his red cheeks but then roman pokes his tummy teasingly and vee immediately drops his hands to his tummy protectively. "because we all know what a tiny little cutie you are, with your baby bottles and pacis and your diapers"

"ro-ah!" virgil tried to protest but romans fingers went for the sides of his tummy and all he can do is gasp and wriggle and giggle and hope his cheeks dont catch fire with how much theyre burning

"so i think we'll just stick with teasing you... for how much you love being teased" roman says confidently

"nooo" virgil whines between breathless laughter

"yes, vee-vee" roman laughs. he's drawing little spirals over vee's sides now and it's making vee writhe and squeal

"you love the teases sooo much, how adorable is that, huh?" romans fingers slow down and atart tiptoeing over vee's ribs one by one like theyre stepping stones

vee gasps in a deep breath and lets himself calm down, all while squeaking and smiling so hard

"you pretend to not like it when we tease you for being the shortest, but everytime you get the biggest smile!" romans fingers go up so one wriggles under his ear again and one scribbles at his cheek. vee squeals and shakes his head

"no?!" roman gasps dramatically, "aw, but it's true vee! youre tiny and you love it! and you cant hide it anymore with those cute dimples popping out and your squeaky laughter whenever i hold something out of reach..."

virgils far gone from talking now. he's a flustered giggly mess

"hm and what about how much you love tickles? thats pretty adorable too you know" romans fingers go back to his ribs to circle around slowly and vee instantly curls up, legs bent up to his chest and accidentally trapping romans fingers there

"see!" roman laughs "you love being tickle tickle tickled so much you wont let me take my hands away!" he scribbles his fingers quickly now and vee squeals and rocks on the floor and gasps but his legs still hold romans hands there.

"n-n-no d-doh-ho--"

"no you don't?" roman guesses and virgil nods, eyes squint shut tight with laughter. "yes you do~" roman teases with a sing song babytalk voice. it makes virgils chest feel melty. "you love the tickles vee! Little vee is a little tickly cutie, aren't you?~"

virgil squeaks and gasps. romans fingers slow down and vee breathes through his giggles for a few moments. he's getting to his limit now

"cmon, vee~" roman sings and wiggles his hand sout from between virgils chest and knees. virgil squeals even tho roman wasnt trying to tickle him. roman laughs "if you admit you love teases and tickles then i'll stop"

it takes a couple of minutes for vee to be ready - both because he is so breathless and he keeps getting interrupted by giggle fits even though roman isnt touching him anymore, which just makes roman laugh too - but eventually virgil opens his eyes, squinting past tears of laughter and not bothering to hide his hot cheeks anymore and admits under his breath "i- i um i like being... teased and - and tickled"

"yeah you do" roman agrees with a big smug smile, then he gets up and helps pull vee up from the floor - vee's knees are wobbly and he collapses a little into roman when he is standing and they both laugh and roman keeps an arm around vee's shoulders when they go back to his room to carry on with the video game.

"that wasnt too much, was it?" roman asks a bit meekly after several minute of gameplay.

virgil looks iver to him and sees he refuses to take his eyes off the screen. romans fingers are fidgeting a bit with the controller even though its a cutscene on the screen.

"no," vee whispers, then lets himself wiggle back into romans lap like they'd been before. he looks at the screen as well and breathes deeply when romans arms circle around him. he feels secure and safe in his big brothers lap. "it was perfect" he admits quietly, stroking his fingers over romans arms

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Daddy Cant Save You Now, Princess

Summary- 3.8k Robert (Mr.Softee x Y/N) Robert Pronge is a Hitman for hire, and his target, well it's you. He's supposed to kill you, dispose of the body, earn the payout. But he's got a better idea for you. Written for @jtargaryen18​ 30 Days of Chris challenge. 

Warnings- Triggers, abuse/torture, Non Con, Oral, Male Receiving, Erratic behaviours, launguage, Listen this whole thing is just dark and evil. He wasn't a good person, you will find nothing good in this fic. 

The man stood over your body, his foot giving your unconscious body a rather hard nudge against the ribs and nothing. He had knocked you out cold. Robert had no trouble weaseling his way into your apartment. His guise as a repairman worked, you so trusting and innocent opened the door to him. The sweetest smile on your face when he told you that your father sent him to repair the sink. You gave him a funny look as if you knew him before opening the door further to let him in. Silly little cunt. 

“Of course, I was just telling Daddy that it kept clogging up.” You would flash that soft pink smile of yours that made his cock twitch, and well fuck if it hadn't been a while. His son's whore of a mother had cut him off a while ago. And he didn't feel like shelling out the cash for a hooker. Especially one he had to 'restrain' himself with. Robert made the decision a couple days ago you wouldn't die. Bodies are always just disappearing all the time, would be easy enough to say you were cut up, disposed of all over the fucking place. Well... Wouldn't Daddy shell out a fortune for his little girl, the course would he give you back? Fuck no. You were his. Till your body was no longer satisfying. Or used up. 

“Yes, Daddy sent me.” Robert took on a menacing look, cold, killer, his hands itching to wrap around your sweet bird-like neck to feel how brittle you were. Normally it wasn't his style, but you sweetheart made him feel feral. You made it so easy, a rag from his pocket over your face when he locked you in his hold. Once you collapsed in your arms, he took a dragging breath of your hair, and shuddered while rubbing himself against your ass. You were gonna be fun.  

And now you were unconscious, for the time being. Robert got you dragged out, how fucking easy was that? Not really. Thankfully you had a fire escape out the back of your apartment, and with some maneuvering, he backed his Mr.Softee Ice Cream truck up to it. It was good and dark when he brought you down the escape, stuffing you in the back like someone might toss in a rug they were pissed off at. Your body thunked against the metal of the floor of the van, and he paid no mind to it. Minor, oh so minor for what he wanted to inflict on you. 

When you were waking up on a cement floor, you groaned. A weird taste in your mouth had you smacking your lips, and your tailbone was sore like you had fallen. “What is going on?” you question yourself, rubbing the back of your head as you twist to a sit. And you come face to face with the man who you let in your apartment, his face was literally inches away, you could have rubbed noses with him. Huge wire rim glasses frame his face, and his heavy hair hung around his face framing it. His breath hot and sour, you yelp and try to pull away, but he grabs a fistful of hair, twisting it viciously to keep you from being able to move. “Well look at the Princess, finally awake. Enjoy your beauty sleep Doll? Cause you look like fucking shit.” He laughed darkly, pulling himself to a stand, and dragging you up to, not very graciously, you swore you lost half your hair, making you cry. 

“Who are you? What do you want? Daddy will-" 

Robert's other hand popped you in the face, mimicking in a high pitched sweet voice. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Come save me Daddy.” he sneered in a way you could have sworn the man had fangs, so deviously looking at you as you struggled, which did nothing to loosen his hold. “Oh please. Daddy ain't seeing you ever again Princess. So you might as well give that up. You're my little fuck toy now. Should have learned not to let people into your apartment.” He yanked on your head again, sending you sprawling forward onto a dirty mattress in the corner of the room. Your face planted in it, muffling a cry and making you inhale against the unimaginable dirty fabric. It was brown spotted with what you feared to be blood, and you rolled quickly to see him shucking clothes, talking to himself. 

“Break her in, yes sir. Ain't had my dick sucked in some time, but right now I want to see what she's got under that skirt of hers. Oh Mr.Softee, you've earned this.” And that's when it clicked, the ice cream truck across the street you visited the other day, standing in line till you got to the window, and out popped the driver's head, long hair resting just over his shoulder and huge sunglasses covering half his face. 

“Whaddya want sweet thing?” He grinned, his teeth slightly off yellow, like that of a smoker. It was slightly off-putting, but he seemed nice none the less. 

“Do you have any of those rocket pops?” You asked with some excitement, all this well it brought you back to Summers on the beach. Right down to the ice cream truck. The familiar logo on the side of the creemee with a face, arms, and legs. An oddball cartoon character of an ice cream cone. 

“Sure we do sweetheart, give me just a second.” And he disappeared, you played with your coins, feeling like it was taking a bit longer then it should, a line forming behind you when he came back to the window, the all familiar red, white, and blue ice looking extra cold, extra tasty on this hot day, licking your lips with expectation as you held up your change to him. 

“No no, a pretty thing like you, Nah. My freebie of the day.” He pulled down his sunglasses enough to wink at you, and a shiver ran up your spine as you gave a little wave while leaving. Was that the ice cream or the man that caused that.  

Robert smirked as you walked away, crossing the street with a sweet little away to your hips under your flowing skirt, the way you would bring that popsicle up to your lips to suck on the ice. Cursing with an appreciative groan thinking of those pretty pink lips sucking his cock in just the same way, the next person in line spoke up. “Are you giving away free ice cream today Mister?” 

Robert immediately snapped his eyes to the kid looking hopeful. “What? Fuck no, what the hell do I look like a charity? If you ain't got money, git outta here brat.”  

You blanched hearing him, and look wildly around the room, for any way out. Scrambling across the mattress and pulling yourself to a stand, you bolt to a steel door, grabbing at the meat locker style handle and yanking on it. There's a menacing laugh behind you, followed by snorts as you look over your shoulder to see Robert in just a pair of boxers descending on you. You bolt to the right, looking for windows. Maybe you can crawl out a window, and you balk at the wall when you see, all of them, boarded up except for ones ten plus feet up, letting in the morning light. “Where you going, Princess? My little sweet treat? Awww, you think you get to just say no to me? You get to leave? Your such a stupid little cunt bitch.” His voice taunting. You whipped around to face him, on your toes as you shifted towards another door, one that looked regular. He grinned when he saw your plan. 

“Do it, Princess, if you can get out that door, I will let you go.” He winked at her, this was the face of the devil, and you spit at him when he lunged, racing to the door, wrenching it open you fall into a closet-sized bathroom, screaming in fear and frustration when he now really does have you cornered, laughing shrilly as he yanks you out, and stuns you with a blow to the head. Not enough to make you pass out like before, but stunning you enough so when he yanked you into his chest, licking the side of your face like you were an ice cream cone, you didn't try to stop him. 

“Oh fucking hell Princess, that was good. GOOD. I love it when you bitches do that. Think I'm fucking stupid or something.” This time your heart is sinking and bile is rising in your stomach making you gag. Robert rolls his eyes as you stumble along. Your mind process all he's saying, what is going on. He's had other victims in here before, other women locked in this room. Where he's god and your nothing. This time you try tearing at his hand. “Let me go! LET ME GO!” Your screaming now as loud as he could, and he whips you around to face him, again your face gets it, hard enough to whip your face back and forth and he pinched your cheek in a hold, snarling at you. “Fucking keep it up, and I'm gonna shove something so far down your throat, your fucking little voice will break, Ya Hear Me? Disrespecting little cunt, probably the pussy won't even be worth this effort.” 

Shoving you down, he was just as quickly over the top of you, catching your hands and twisting you till you were on your stomach, screaming and calling him every name you could think of in the book. It wasn't many, you were proper good girl cause your daddy expected it, and Robert, will he found that fucking stupidly cute. His cute little dumb Princess. “Please! Daddy will pay anything you ask for, just give me back to him!” 

Robert leaned over you, your hands pinned at your back, and his knee shoved hard between your thighs to rub against your core. It hurt how hard he was pressing against you, crashing down on your back so dragging in the air was damn near impossible, pushing your face back into the mattress, he gave a fucking little giggle of delight, you shuddering when his hair dragged across your face you twisted to the side so you could breathe. “Daddy is gonna pay my employer. Everything he asks for, cause he's already got the news.” He ripped your panties off and hiked that skirt up over your ass. Robert pinched it with his free hand, making you arch to get away, but he yanked your hips back up for his access. “His little princess pride and joy is Dead. Killed and disposed of, never to be seen again. Gotta protect your sisters, right? Oh, he's coming up with the money right now to keep your other little snot-nosed brat siblings safe. Your fucking dad has more kids then fucking brain cells.” 

Tears fell, and fell and fell as he fucked you right there on that dirty mattress, taunting you the whole time, whipping you around, covering you in bruises and bite marks. They fell when he rolled away, satisfied he 'broke in his new toy' as he called you, and they fell as he got his coat and left you all alone with nothing more than a sore body, dirty mattress, and a single chair table set. This was now your life, your entire existence. 

The time he left you alone, you searched the entire room high and low. Trying to pry the boards off the windows that were close to the ground, but when you chipped away at one, heavy bars were blocking anyway out, and you looked, nothing but a desolate lot facing some train tracks. Which you studied for hours. Not a soul passed through, not a train whizzed by. You pulled back and looked around the room again, to find nothing but the giant steel door. Your only way to escape. You stomp over to it, and wrench on the handle, yank and tear at it till your nails are bloodied stubs of what they used to be. Your feet try kicking at it in frustration, crying out when your toes smash against it, and you fall in front of it, sobbing. 

A couple of days later he returns, a paper bag in his hand. He whistles as he comes in, shoving the door to lock behind him and looks at you sitting on the corner of the mattress, staring off at nothing, then snapping back at him. “You came back... I didn't think you would.” He snorted as if you were being ridiculous and rolled his eyes with an exaggeration. “Fucking drama queen much Princess? Course I'm coming back. Fucking stupid as you look.” He set the bag down, and you didn't dare move, dare approach him. He yanks out some bags of gas station chips, beef jerky, snack cakes, and a few bottles of water, dumping them on the table. As well as a bottle of soap. “I expect you to stay clean" He tossed the bottle at you that bounced on the mattress. “I ain't fucking no dirty whore. Did that enough with my son's mother.” 

He chortles as if amused and you kick the bottle away from you. “Fuck you.” That made him snap ramrod straight, peering over his glasses at you. “What. Did. You. Just. Say?” 

“You heard me perfectly clear, Fuck off you fucking dick.” 

“Oh your gonna wish you ain't never said that.” and before you could even try to get away, he straddled you onto the mattress, shoving your hands under his knees, he rolled forward to put all his weight into your wrists, making you cry out and screaming even louder. “I told you before, I like my bitches loud. Keep screaming, gives me a fucking hard on.” And he was right, staring you right in your face was a tent in his uniformed pants. wrenching your mouth to open with the use of pressure against your jaw, and using his teeth, he pried the bottle top off. 

“Think you can talk with a filthy mouth princess? Gotta clean out all that shit you be spewing with soap.” And he tipped that bottle, squeezing the blue soap to fall into your mouth, slipping to the back of your throat, and tossing the bottle aside, he used the heel of his hand to snap your jaw shut and covered your mouth and nose. “SWALLOW IT!” You start gagging underneath him, tears brimming and falling, heaving as if you were going to puke. Last second he released you, and you rolled spitting up the blue bubbles soap, already starting to get activated. 

Of course that wasn't the end of it, he taught you all sorts of things he enjoyed that night. Making you choke on his cock, making you gag and lungs burn like they couldn't breathe, waiting until you were starting to turn red and fought to pull off him to take that breath of air. “You ain't never sucked cock before? all bitches need to know how to handle dick in the mouth.” He shoved you back on him, and you were praying he would finish soon. Tearing you apart from the inside out, leaving you broken again. 

After he's sitting on the edge of the mattress, yanking on his pants and grunting as he got up, twisting to look at his back “aww shit, Princess you did mark me fucking up. Just blame it on a whore when the wife asks. Not that she fucking cares.” You try to move, but it just hurts, all of you hurts. He leans down and pops his hand against your cheek and you open your mouth to protest, him grasping your chin to keep your mouth open for a lewd kiss. “Mmmhh, you taste all squeaky clean. Too bad we know your not. See you soon Princess, foods on the table. Better make it last, might be a few days.” 

And with that he left, your second time with Robert was just as horrifying as the first. After several hours you nibbled on the cakes and sipped on the bottle of water, grimacing whenever you felt the soap taste in your mouth. You could feel yourself breaking just a bit more with each second passing. You tried to convince yourself that your Dad would save you, he just had to. But you knew deep down he would just take you as a lost cause. He still had your other siblings to worry about. 

Your life became routine. He would come for a night or a day, fuck you in all brutal manners, some times afterward he would shove you away from him when he was done, usually along the lines of “Get off me you filthy cunt. Don't you ever clean yourself up? Not even worth the effort fucking you good and proper anymore.” Other times he would have you lay your head on his chest, and he would be... kind and gentle. Talk about his latest hit with his partner Richard. It would make you grimace in horror how he described the use of the poisons when they would freeze the bodies, packing the ice cream he would sell to innocent little kids and there stupid dumb ass parents. Bodies kept the cones more solid he claimed. How you envied those people. They got to have a painless existence with him. Nothing more then shells gone from this world. 

You hated them more then you should, and you always felt guilty for it. 

The only other constant thing was the gas station food. You would give anything for a piece of fruit, a sandwich, anything that was real. Not beef jerky, and chips. He even limited the bottles of water when he caught you drinking the dirty tap out of desperation. That day when he was shoving shit on the table, he seemed to be fine, even pulling out a hair clipping kit and yanking the chair out to sit down. “Get over here, you any good with cutting hair? I need it shaved off, fucking all gone.” He plopped in the chair. “Come on Y/N, ain't got all fucking day.” Maybe, just maybe if you are good, you can ask him for a favor. You put on your sweetest smile, the one you knew he liked and approached him. Looking down in his lap, was a cocked pistol. He caught you looking at him. “You know, in case you decide to do some stupid shit.”  

You sheer off his matted hair, trim it up best you could with what he gave you, and underneath it all, there was not a bad looking man. You were taken aback at feeling that way looking at him, but you were. His hand came up to brush through the bristles, and yanked you in his lap, grinding you against his erect cock. “Good Girl Princess, look at you finally learning to not be a little brat and be good for once.” 

“Really Robert?” You bite your lip, and you see his eyes flashing at you, his hand hiking up your skirt and rubbing at your bare pussy, working to make you slick for him. It was distracting, but you wouldn't forget, couldn't forget, and he claimed you were a good girl after all. “would I fucking say it if I didn't mean it? Why do you say this stupid shit?”  

He kept fingering you, so far gentlest he's ever treated you and you contemplated waiting, but he was smart and sensed your hesitation. “You should probably just tell me, what the hell is it?” He twisted his wrist and hit that spot he once in a while would have you falling apart for him. “Oh...I... wondered if maybe, you could...” You panted and fisted your hands in his shirt. “would bring me an apple?” 

“Your kidding, you want a God damn apple?” Robert's lips curled up, and you knew you made a mistake. He wrenched his fingers out of you and shoved you off his lap to the floor, wincing as you tried to get away from his boots. He managed to plant one, right on your ass to send you skittering across the floor. “I work my ass off to keep you taken cared of up here, your daddy has given up on you. And you aren’t even fucking grateful! I bring you food and company.” He ripping into the bags, and you're crawling across the floor, clutching at his leg. “Please! No, I'm sorry Robert! I appreciate it, all of it!” 

“Too late, if I wasn't too tired I would do worst.” He spitting in everything, smooshing it all together and breaking it. “You can eat the soggy crumbs, remember who gives them to you when you eat my spit, Princess. All a cunt bitch like you deserves. Get on the mattress, face down ass up. All your fucking good for.” 

At this point you don't have any fight left in you, you do as he tells you, and as he's pounding you from behind, hand fisted in your hair to keep your head tipped back so he could lean over easier and spat in your face, he's having you tell him 'Thank you' over and over, how bad you were, how worthless you were, how loving and kind he was. He jizzed all over your back when he was finished. “Think about what you are worth to me Princess, cause one of these days I might not come back.” 

You just stare at him while laying on your side, watching him dress, nodding to him. “Yes Robert, I understand.” 

“Do you? Do you fucking understand?” He leaned over and spit in your face one last time to drive his point home before he grabbed his jacket. “Cause I don't have time for you to be a cunty bitch all the damn time. Somedays I'm tired. Tired of the attitude Princess.” He strides towards the door. “See you in a couple of days. If I feel like it.” 

A couple of days passed and you don't see him. You figure he must still be mad at you, and punishing you in another sick twisted way. More days pass and madness starts to set in. Another fear, was he serious this time? You pass your days prying off the wooden boards, praying someone will pass, but no one ever does. This is a warehouse, no one comes to look at warehouses, they are the eyesores of the city. 

More days pass, your food is gone, your resulting in drinking as much water as possible to keep your hunger pains from making you feel sicker than you already do. Panic, cold and sharp has started to set in. His thread rattling in your brain. Think about what you're worth to me Princess, cause of these days I might not come back. Had you pushed him that far? You cried while banging on that door, listening, praying someone would hear you. And each day there was nothing but silence. 

How much longer could you last?