#mentions of non-con experiments

[un-pearable]

“miku as your home culture really shows that the USA has no culture” discussion has lost the plot. say it with me folks . it’s not that USamericans don’t have a culture it’s that we’ve so aggressively globalized it that people feel it’s the “default” rather than an amalgamation of the popular culture we produce and export and explicit geopolitical decisions. it’s neocolonialism. this is like. necessary to understand if you’re going to meaningful critique the USA’s impact on the rest of the world culturally and otherwise

[apatheticsunday]

Dead Tired Stalker AU

AKA "Tim Drake is a little obsessive, possessive, and really, really likes his new boyfriend (Danny)" prompt idea!! No non-con, violence, or dead doves. Brief reference to human experimentation.

Inspired by this one post where Tim kept a methodical journal of Danny's resting pulse, body temperature, weaknesses, tracked him literally all the time, and Danny was like *heart-eyes*

I like the idea of Tim's idea of love being completely a bit skewed. He was neglected as a kid and craved attention, affection, being wanted; so, understandably, he assumes that's what other people want, too. He'd only had one boyfriend before. Kon was sarcastic, funny, and sweet, but even he couldn't handle Tim's... staring. The unblinking intensity in those eyes, the hundreds of pictures of himself on Tim's phone, somehow Tim knowing about Kon's conversations and experiences without having been there.

Needless to say, Tim and Kon's relationship ended with a harsh reiteration that most people need boundaries.

So, when Tim meets this very cute messy-haired boy at Gotham-U, he shoves down the instinctive urge to know everything. Mentally captures moments, memorizes them, instead of taking pictures. Shoves earbuds in to avoid listening in on Danny's conversations (oh, his name's Danny, which he overheard when the boy was speaking with the TA).

It's so hard not to obsess, though. Danny is... well, he's haunting. His crystalline eyes make Tim's heart stutter in his chest, chills rising along his arms; he swears there's this aura around Danny that's just utterly compelling. (Stop it, Tim, you'll scare him off.) But Tim can actually be a person sometimes, so he just asks, "Do you want to go out for coffee with me sometime?" And he's psyched when Danny says yes!! (He tries really, really hard not to memorize the fact that Danny likes hot oatmilk chai lattes, uses his left hand to hold his drink, and prefers not to use a coffee sleeve. Does Danny always hold his cups by the lid? Does he prefer- Tim stops himself.)

And Tim is a great boyfriend!! They go on dates (he doesn't avidly stare at the way Danny's eyes sparkle while at Gotham-U's planetarium). Tim learns Danny's favorite music the normal way (he doesn't hack into Danny's Spotify... although he's suddenly found himself listening to an artist named Ember). And Tim has a totally normal album of pictures of his boyfriend on his phone (his burner phone is a different matter entirely, but not even Batman himself could get it unlocked. Tim's got that phone sealed up tighter than the Fortress of Solitude).

Except Tim notices Danny becoming more withdrawn. More tired, dark bags under his eyes and stealing Tim's double espresso (he never does that, it's too bitter for him, why isn't he drinking his oatmilk latte?). Leaning his head on Tim's shoulder during lectures to take naps. And Tim's becoming more frantic the more lethargic Danny becomes.

Maybe he's more like Bruce "Contingency Plan" Wayne than he's willing to admit. Tim sets a hard boundary for himself: I'm just going to Google his symptoms. That's it.

He spends the next 42 hours obsessively researching Danny: hacks into his phone, downloads all his previous location history, texts, calls, background checks everybody Danny's been in contact with. Re-traces his steps down to the minute, finds all his Google searches, activates Danny's laptop webcam. He's determined to find out what's wrong with his boyfriend.

And because Tim is Red Robin, who literally became part of the Batfam because of his stalking tendencies and is one of the greatest detectives since Batman, he finds out. He finds out that Danny Fenton is one Phantom, a vigilante from Amity; finds obscure clips of newspapers mentioning a young boy's tragic death, discovers the GIW, uncovers classified information containing metahuman experimentation (let's say he doesn't quite know about Ghosts, but Metas are close enough).

Somehow, he makes a connection between ectoplasm and the Lazarus Pit (maybe not necessarily the right connection, but something-adjacent). After all, Jason was resurrected via "Evil Baja Blast" and Ra's al Ghul used it to make himself immortal. It would make sense that the GIW could sample Lazarus Pit water and use it to experiment on metahumans. So... Does Danny just need more Lazarus Pit water?

Cue Tim making use of the Drake and Wayne family wealth to literally overnight mason jars full of Lazarus water. Ra's al Ghul has no idea how it happened. He tests the reaction of Danny's DNA and the Lazarus water only to realize he was right. (Lazarus Pit waters are just excessively concentrated ambient ectoplasm, I guess?)

Tim does what any good boyfriend would do and spikes Danny's oatmilk lattes with Lazarus Pit water. And it helps. Danny is suddenly so much more energetic, there's that glittering shine to his eyes, and he looks so much healthier. Happier. Tim can't stop staring at him. If anything, he stares more, tries to memorize every angle of his boyfriend's face; he collects more candid pictures than before, always catching the gentle curl of Danny's lips when he's distracted; doesn't disengage the tracking apps or phone mirroring software.

He's just happy that his boyfriend is feeling better, more like himself. It's just a perk that Danny doesn't know about Tim's minor stalking tendencies.

(Danny absolutely knows.)

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

y’all… characters drinking alcohol (in fanfics) is not “dead dove do not eat”

character death alone is not “dead dove do not eat”

angst alone is not “dead dove do not eat”

whump alone is not “dead dove do not eat”

self-harm (in fanfics) alone is not “dead dove do not eat”

suicide (in fanfics) alone is not “dead dove do not eat”

infidelity (in fanfics) alone is not “dead dove do not eat”

BDSM / smut / rough sex (in fanfics) alone is not “dead dove do not eat”

even non-con (in fanfics) alone is not necessarily always “dead dove do not eat”

of course, any of the topics mentioned above can be “dead dove do not eat” if it’s written in extremely graphic details in the nature that will sicken your readers / in a way that can make your readers throw up and say what the actual fuck / if it’s the main plot of your story. but taboo topics alone are not “dead dove do not eat”. I’m saying this because I’ve seen people use “dead dove do not eat” tag in stories that only mention a taboo subject once and it’s one sentence or one paragraph long, and that is… not what the tag is for.

for instance, if your story contains non-con, but it’s not explicitly written in graphic details / it’s not written in a way that can make your readers throw up and say what the actual fuck / it’s not the main focus of your work / it’s only one or two paragraph long, tag it as “rape/non-con” accordingly, but it does not warrant the “dead dove do not eat” tag.

sure, you can say it’s “not that deep” and that it’s all just “made up fandom stuff”, but it can also make it more difficult for people who want to avoid the tag or people who seek out the tag specifically to curate their experiences if the tag isn’t being used correctly the way it's supposed to be used.

I’ve explained what “dead dove do not eat” as a tag means and how you can properly use it here.

but to make it as simple as possible, this is basically the meaning of “dead dove do not eat” tag 👇🏻

(so no, the tag isn’t about character going through a nasty breakup and drowning themself in alcohol or character getting drunk and having sex they end up regretting)

[cherienymphe]

Pity Party

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON (+ mentions of), toxic/abusive relationship, mentions of manipulation, dad!Rafe, established Rafe x reader

➥ While this can absolutely be read as a stand alone piece, it is also the much requested follow up to my WTPO series. I hope this doesn't disappoint!

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You became the envy of every woman in Kildare County the day you became Mrs. Rafe Cameron.

⭑

You slid along the floor using your knees, hand occupied by an even tinier one as your son unsteadily put one foot in front of the other. Your lips were pulled into a smile as you watched him, your free hand hovering behind his back for when he very likely would fall. Your other son was occupied with a snack, and when—as expected—the youngest one’s legs gave out, you scooped him up with a giggle.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “You’re going to be sprinting by this weekend.”

His cherubic face smiled back at you, lips wet with drool, and you wiped his mouth with a smile. Your oldest—now done with his Goldfish—was currently tugging on your dress, and when you looked down at him, he had a wide grin on his face.

“I wanna play with him…”

His soft voice had your own expression softening, and you quietly told him ‘okay’, taking a seat right on the floor where you were formerly standing. You emptied your hands, letting your son crawl around and slap at the ground as his brother followed him, face so close to his as he whispered things to him that he didn’t quite understand yet. You let your mind wander, warmth blooming in your chest as you thought about how…sweet they were.

There had been a time where you feared they wouldn’t be.

…and as you stared at them, you almost felt bad for ever thinking they could be anything less than angels, but it couldn’t be helped. They were children, and there were very few things in this world that were more innocent than children. They both came out squirming and pudgy and perfect—screaming their heads off and only calming once they were in your arms. They came into this world looking at you with the kind of eyes that had never experienced or done a single bad thing in their life.

They were children…babies…

…but they were Rafe’s babies.

And as much as you would like to, you would never be able to forget how they both came to be here. Fighting off Rafe Cameron was hard enough when you were going through a tumultuous breakup, but it became damn near impossible once he managed to get a ring on your finger and a prison around you in the form of a fancy house. You looked down at the large rock, a pang going through your chest at the sight of a simple gold band below it.

The wedding had been the grand fanfare it was expected to be, serving it’s purpose of making you the envy of every woman in Kildare County. Your oldest son—having been an only child at the time—was pulled down the aisle in a wagon with a pillow in his lap that contained the rings. Rose had gushed over you in the dressing room, long having convinced herself no woman would ever marry Rafe and she’d never get to experience this. Your father had cried as he handed you off to your husband to be, and tears had kissed your own eyes but just for an entirely different reason.

Your dress was made for a princess, and your veil was made for an angel, and your makeup was made for a doll. Everything was perfect, everything going off without a hitch. Absolutely nothing—not a single thing—had gone wrong, and even though by that point you’d slowly started to accept your fate…something in you had hoped. For what? You weren’t entirely sure.

You’d hoped that some crazy ex girlfriend of Rafe’s would stand up and object. You’d hoped that your brother would go against your wishes and drag you away from it all. Hell, you’d even hoped that someone would choke on their spit and require an ambulance. Deep down though, you’d known what you really hoped for.

You had hoped that Rafe would do the right thing…and let you go.

It was a silly hope. Rafe Cameron had gone through entirely too much trouble to ensure you’d never leave him, even going as far as threatening to take your son away from you. He—both of them—was the only good thing to come out of this. From the first moment you laid eyes on him, you’d wanted him all for yourself and far away from Rafe. The brunette simply didn’t deserve him, and you had no doubt that Rafe would agree, but his selfishness outweighed any thought of doing what was right. That had always been the case.

You didn’t know why you thought your wedding day might be any different.

Rafe moments away from chaining you to him forever? There was no shot in hell of him walking away from that, and you sighed at how naively hopeful you’d been that day. The sound of your oldest son’s laughter pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked over just in time to see him jump to his feet, promptly sprinting towards the foyer. You weren’t worried, knowing exactly who it was that could elicit such a reaction from him.

You swallowed at the sound of Rafe’s voice, taking your 11-month old into your arms.

“...and how were my boys?”

He came into view as he said that, the messy haired little boy upside down in his arms as he kicked his feet and laughed.

You knew the question wasn’t meant for you.

“I was bad,” your son told him, and you fought back a smile, knowing why he said that.

Rafe’s gaze met yours, and the smile that threatened to ghost over your lips was gone. He merely smirked at the sight, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the boy in his arms.

“Bad? Oh no,” he chuckled. “Why were you bad?”

“I accidentally spilled juice on mommy’s dress.”

Your son’s words came out small, slurring together a bit with his slight lisp. You’d told him that it was fine—accidents happen—but you knew why he was so hung up on it. As awful as Rafe treated you behind closed doors, he treated you a million times better for the whole world to see. He was smart that way, and the whole world included your children. They saw their dad treat mommy like a princess—none the wiser to what the true nature of your relationship was really like—and so they followed suit.

An offense against you—no matter how small—was especially heinous.

“Oh that is bad,” Rafe murmured, setting him down on his feet. “Guess we’ll have to buy her a new one, huh?”

He ruffled his hair, and your son beamed at the thought of going shopping.

You avoided Rafe’s gaze as he neared you, an impressive feat when he came to kneel down before you. Your youngest was squirming in your arms—babbling—and you swallowed when Rafe reached out to lightly squish his cheeks. He pressed his lips to his tiny forehead just as his hand landed on your own cheek, and only then did you look at him.

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, expression unreadable. Your oldest was going on about something behind him that neither of you were giving too much attention to. His blue eyes looked between yours, studying you, and you could smell his cologne. After what felt like too long, his pink lips finally curved into that haughty half smile you were used to seeing.

It never not made you want to smack it right off of his face.

“...and how was mommy today?” he quietly asked.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say to him.

You wanted to say that mommy cried in the bathroom because she still had thoughts of leaving sometimes even at the loss of her own children, but then she’d remember how much she loved them and couldn’t live without them and the guilt would set in. You wanted to tell him that mommy’s thigh still hurt from where he’d sank his teeth into it the night before for daring to tell him she still hated him sometimes. You even started to tell him that mommy had rare moments here and there where she’d momentarily forget their history and find herself content in this big house with her children and fancy ring until she remembered how her children got here and what said house and ring represented.

You didn’t say any of that though.

Instead, you merely blinked at Rafe, and told him what you always did.

“Mommy was fine.”

The vase narrowly missed Rafe’s head, his quick reflexes making your heart sink with disappointment. Your own quick thinking had you frantically looking around for something else to throw at him, but his feet moved faster than your brain, and he was nearing you before you made up your mind. Unable to stomach being around him, right now, you hurriedly sprinted to the other side of the room. You paid no mind to the way he called your name, a blend of anger and exasperation there.

“Are you done…?”

You didn’t look at him, keeping your angry gaze on the floor. Besides, you didn’t have to in order to know what he looked like. You could imagine it perfectly—steely blue eyes cold and intently focused on you, hands on his hips and jaw clenched so hard you’d swear it was about to break. When you finally did glance at him, you were proven right.

“This little…” he waved his hand about. “...tantrum. You’re finished?”

“Fuck you,” you whispered.

You couldn’t hold in your tears, and they spilled over without your permission. Rafe sucked his teeth at the sight, and when he took a step towards you, you made to leave the living room completely. Your sons were with your mom—they would be the whole weekend—because that was the plan. They would stay with grandma for a few days while you went to Charlotte to visit Pope at school. Rafe was supposed to be handling business with Ward, anyway.

He was not supposed to be sabotaging your plans and canceling car rentals and flights and ruining your entire weekend.

Rafe stopped you before you could get far, and you didn’t even attempt to get away, too defeated and upset to smack him square across the face like you wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, and you wondered if a light bruise would be there in the morning. You could tell by the way he held you that he was upset, but you didn’t understand what he had to be upset about. It had been four years since Rafe started this fucked up dynamic he called a family and over two since you’d reluctantly said ‘I do’. You even gave him another son…and yet…

It was clear now that he still didn’t trust you.

Sure, you had the stray thought or two here and there about escaping, but when it was all said and done, those were just thoughts. Your children meant too much to you to just take off, and even if you ever got to that point one day where you’d happily sacrifice their chance to grow up with a mother just to have your own freedom, Rafe would never let that happen. Your fate was sealed from the very moment he’d decided you were it for him.

“I haven’t seen my brother in months. It’s his last year of school, and I didn’t want the next time I see him to be at his Goddamn graduation,” you spat, lips trembling. “You said you were okay with it!”

“Yeah, I was,” Rafe replied in a tone that hinted at more to come.

You were right.

“...but then I remembered that this would be the first time we’d be apart for a distance more than thirty miles and how way up there in Charlotte you could disappear to wherever you wanted and-.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about any of that if we had a normal relationship,” you cut him off, a sneer on your lips. “You wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of me running away from you if you’d never hurt me and raped me and damn near threatened me into marrying you.”

At those words, Rafe let you go as if you burned him, and you reminded yourself how much Rafe hated to be reminded of why you were really here. You were positive he sometimes convinced himself that this relationship was as real as it could be—the perfect parents with the perfect children and the perfect marriage. After all, it was what everyone on the outside saw when they were looking in.

The difference between the two of you it seemed was that you knew it was all pretend.

Rafe liked to believe that it wasn’t.

“All of that aside…do you really think I’d leave them?”

Your question came out whispered, and you didn’t miss the slight twitch in Rafe’s face. Leave them…not leave him. Rafe was smart in knowing that knocking you up would be the only thing to truly prevent you from leaving, and yet he absolutely hated to be reminded of it. To be reminded that it was not—and never would be—him keeping you here.

His expression morphed, a shadow passing over his features as he glanced away, shoving a hand into his pocket.

“I can’t take that chance,” was all he said, making more tears spill over. “Pope’s not going anywhere. You can always see him another time.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth in anger, and when he reached for you, he was stopped by a harsh slap to the cheek. Your lips wouldn’t stop trembling, and you just stared at him as he rubbed his face.

“You have taken so much from me, Rafe,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes at him. “If your goal is to make sure we’re both absolutely miserable…then keep it up.”

You turned away from him, refusing to spare him another look as you made your way upstairs to unpack your suitcase.

Most days in your marriage were okay. They weren’t awful, and they weren't’ exactly anything you’d jump at the chance to relive. They were simply just…okay. On those days, Rafe would wake you up with a kiss, sometimes more than that, and you’d start your day—usually something that consisted of preparing for your children to wake up. They made those days stand a chance at being somewhat enjoyable, and you thought to yourself that maybe one day when they were old enough, you’d tell them how much they did for you without even knowing.

On the days where your marriage wasn’t okay, you were usually overcome with how you really felt about Rafe. Those days didn’t come as often as they used to—a fact you didn’t like to let your mind linger on—but when they did, they usually ended in your tears.

…and Rafe pinning you down and just taking what he wanted.

Rafe had felt entitled to your body long before he put the ring on your finger, but after you took his last name, his entitlement went to an entirely new level. You recalled a day where you had the house to yourselves and how silly you’d been to think Rafe would respect your wish to be alone.

“Do you know what this means?” he’d harshly asked, squeezing your left hand as he held it up for both of you to see.

The 4-carat marquise solitaire glinted under the bright kitchen light.

“It means you’re my wife, it means you’re mine,” he’d hissed, getting in real close and touching your nose with his. “Do you get how patient I’ve been? How patient I am?”

You’d shrank away from him, wincing at the slight pain in your left hand.

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but it’s been years,” he’d told you. “There’s a ring on your finger and two little boys walking around with my face. You need to suck it up!”

The counter had been harsh against your stomach as he bent you over it.

The good days in your marriage were even more rare, and even those ended in you feeling sad for yourself. It was usually a whole day of your boys keeping a smile on your face, the feeling so infectious that even Rafe couldn’t make it go away. And that’s how you’d find yourself smiling at him and playing with your children together and actually acting like a family. Only…on those rare days…it wasn’t acting. For just several hours, everything that Rafe was and everything he’d done would be so far from your mind.

You’d find yourself bathing your youngest together—your oldest only listening to you when it was time to wash behind his ears—cooing over the baby that was just shy of turning one years old. You’d let your son run into your arms as he hid from the ‘tickle monster’, playfully pushing at Rafe’s chest as you protected the three year old from him. Sometimes you’d even fall asleep with your head so close to Rafe’s lap as he read to them, your son begging you both to stay until he fell asleep.

Of all the days in your marriage that you’d anticipated being the hardest, the ‘good’ days were not among them. Reality would set in during the morning, sometimes even that same night, and your chest would ache as you held back tears because what you and Rafe had was not real. It wasn’t a real marriage, and you weren’t a real family, and on those days where you forgot that, the truth just hit so much harder. All of the anger and disappointment would come back…and then the fear would set in.

It scared you how easily you could slip into that headspace and live in some alternate reality where Rafe was a good husband and your children hadn’t been the product of rape and you didn’t have errant thoughts of what it would be like to be free of him. It scared you how good it felt to forget it all, how a day might come where instead of finding yourself slipping into that mindset, you just…chose it.

It would be so easy.

…but you felt like you owed it to yourself to hate him forever.

Sometimes he made hating him so easy…and then other times so, so hard.

“They’re so sweet to you,” he murmured in the low lighting, both of your kids fast asleep in their room. 

You’d been trying to find sleep of your own, but Rafe’s phone call with Ward left you both up long after you wanted to be. You were unfortunately wide awake when slid in beside you, and your unopened eyes didn’t fool Rafe in the slightest. He knew you were awake.

“I would hope so,” you murmured, staring at the back of your eyelids as he lightly traced patterns into your satin covered stomach.

Your husband chuckled to himself.

“I mean they look at you like you hung the moon,” he quietly continued. “Especially your shadow…”

He was referring to your oldest.

“I’m barely there for him whenever you’re in the same room,” he whispered. “He’s happy that I’m home and he hugs me, but then it’s straight back to mommy.”

You slowly opened your eyes as Rafe’s hand became flat against your stomach, gently rubbing it.

“He treats you like a princess…”

You met his gaze at that, and you couldn’t quite place the look in Rafe’s eyes.

“...and I’m especially happy about it on days when I don’t.”

You sighed at that, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m glad that he’s nothing like me…”

You remembered Rafe saying something similar years ago before the boy in question had even been born, and you blinked as he leaned in, gently ghosting his lips over your cheek. You were tempted to push him away, but then you asked yourself if you wanted to start a fight so late in the night. Instead, you turned your head to face Rafe, your lips a hair’s width away from his own.

“I’m glad he’s nothing like you too,” you whispered.

You didn’t miss the way his face fell at that, a tick in his jaw that told you your words had the desired effect. Instead of saying something along the lines of what you both knew he wanted to say, Rafe merely heaved a sigh, still gently rubbing your stomach. He suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking down at you.

A smirk ghosted over his lips.

“I want another baby.”

Those words were the last thing you’d been expecting, and your eyes widened just a tad.

“...what?”

“Let’s try for a girl this time,” he suggested, and realizing that he was indeed serious, you sat up.

His hand fell away from your stomach.

“This time?” you murmured, more to yourself than him. “I don’t recall trying for anything the previous times.”

The mention of what he did to you had Rafe going silent, and when you looked at him, his nostrils were flaring.

“It can be different this time-.”

“How?” you wondered, frowning at him. “How will it be different this time? The only time I touch you is when I’m forced to, and I don’t know, that sounds pretty fucking familiar to me.”

Rafe’s hand had circled around your chin before you had time to react—he was sitting up now too—and you both just cooly stared at each other. He looked like he wanted to hurt you, and you stared back, just waiting for him to prove you right. He seemed to be toying with the thought, and after a few moments, he slowly exhaled through his nose.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his blue eyes following the action.

A million thoughts were racing through his mind, that much you could tell by the emotions that flickered over his features. Eventually he settled on one, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“You’re not always unhappy…”

It was said like a statement, but there was a lilt there that told you he wanted an answer.

“No,” you eventually responded, honestly. “Not always.”

He nodded.

“...but I’m unhappy more than I’m happy.”

He closed his eyes at that, and you swallowed.

“What did you expect, Rafe? Sure, four years is a lot, but it’s also not when I think about everything you did to me.”

He dropped his hand and pushed himself to his feet. You watched him stand there, staring at the wall with his hands on his hips.

“...and what makes it worse is that you’re not even sorry. I know how much you want me to ‘just get over it’, but how am I expected to get over it when we both know you’d do it all over again so long as it got you the same result?” you choked out. “You’re not sorry for any of it.”

You blinked away tears.

“...and now you’re mad at me so much because I won’t roll over and play house.”

You saw his shoulders heave, and you could tell how much this conversation was frustrating him. Rafe really hated to be reminded of his own actions, hated to be reminded of the fact that your relationship was where it was because of him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were the one trapped in this gilded cage…not him.

“So, if you want another baby…” you quietly started. “...either something needs to change…or you just embrace the beast we both know you can be.”

His eyes snapped to yours at that, and as much as it made your heart skip a beat, Rafe rarely scared you anymore. You’d seen him and experienced him at his absolute worst. There really wasn’t much he could do to you anymore that would shock you…and he knew it. 

His baby blues glinted dangerously, and you bit your tongue.

He did the opposite of what you expected, and you watched him turn away from you to leave the room. You didn’t relax, knowing he’d come back, but you did heave a tired sigh, telling yourself that sleep couldn’t come fast enough.

Rafe’s hand tightened around your throat as he kissed you, the alcohol on your tongue making the kiss taste sweet. The world was moving so slow around you, and every place that Rafe touched felt like you were being gently electrocuted. Deep in the crevices of your mind, you knew that something was wrong. You hadn’t kissed Rafe like this in years, not since the early days of your relationship when you thought you might have loved him, and butterflies were in your stomach at one look from him.

You recalled the sight of your empty wine glass on the carpet, the rest of the red wine you didn’t drink staining the white fabric.

Your kids were asleep and the house was quiet and you were kissing your husband like you used to—back when he wasn’t your husband. Rafe had your back to the wall just barely on the inside of your bedroom, your hand struggling to reach out to the door. Rafe grabbed it, threading his fingers through your own, and you made a slight noise of protest.

He made a shushing noise into the kiss.

“Just relax…”

Relax.

That word triggered something in you, and you pressed your other hand to his chest. You were far too relaxed to be sober, and considering you only had one glass of wine, you knew that other substances were at play here. You recalled Rafe voicing his desire for another baby just the other day…and you recalled the slight back and forth it’d created. You expected one of two things out of Rafe, but neither of them included a scenario where you were too inebriated to properly fight back against him.

There was something especially sinister about Rafe creating this false sense of consent.

His lips traveled down towards your neck as he bent his head, and you felt like you didn’t have control over your body as you threw your head back. You shakily exhaled when both of his hands descended towards your waist, lifting you and forcing you towards the California king. When he settled you both onto it, all pretense was gone.

“Don’t you want a little girl?” he whispered against your skin, his fingers dancing along the place from where your shirt had ridden up. “Hmm? I know you get sick of being with just us boys.”

You made a noise that was unintelligible even to your ears, pushing at his head, but it was of no use. Whatever he slipped into your drink clearly wasn’t in his, Rafe having all of his strength and wits about him as he pinned you down. He kissed you again—slow—as his hands circled around your wrists. It took your breath away, and your lashes fluttered when he descended.

“A princess for my princess…”

You reached out to place a hand on the bed to steady yourself. Although you knew it was the room spinning, not you, and so focused on that, you didn’t even realize what Rafe was doing until the cool air you’d briefly felt against your core was replaced by his mouth. The action made your back arch, and—against your will—you reached down to press your hand against his head.

He hummed in between your thighs.

“You never let me do this anymore,” you heard him whisper, his breath against your skin before he dived back in.

To be fair, you never let him do anything, but especially this. It was too intimate, too loving, and those words were so far from the true nature of your relationship it wasn’t even funny. After all, Rafe was now at a place where he had to drug you just to get you to stop fighting against him. You found it interesting because he never minded the fight before. In fact, you’d even say that some part of him enjoyed it.

You wondered what had changed.

His head moved back and forth between your thighs, and it made you squirm. One of Rafe’s hands reached up to dig into your leg, holding you still. The other found your hand, and you were unable to remember that you didn’t like holding his hand. Another gesture that you felt was too intimate, something Rafe always liked to pretend that your relationship was.

Just when you were on the brink of coming all over his tongue, your husband pulled away, but not before pressing a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh. With stars just barely floating in your vision, you laid there, eyes falling closed as you fought to regulate your breathing.

A voice in your head told you that you didn’t want this, and that you needed to get up…but you couldn’t find the strength to.

When Rafe’s hands were on you again, they were pulling away every piece of fabric they touched, and you couldn’t help the tears that kissed your eyes. Being forced to feign compliance in your own assault somehow hurt a thousand times worse than if Rafe had simply grabbed you and held you down. You wondered if this made it easier on him, and you thought about how much Rafe hated being reminded of the things he did to you.

It was like it hurt him to remember it that way, to acknowledge it for what it was.

When he slid into you, you couldn’t help the small whimper you let out, eyes rolling as he stretched you out. Rafe’s hands were on you, pulling you closer, and as if your arms had a mind of their own, you threw them around him. His chest was pressed to yours as he thrust into you, and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. He cursed when he sank into you again, and your toes curled.

“You’re so mean to me, you know that?”

One of his hands tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck.

“...have to drug my own wife just to get her to fuck me…”

Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back, and Rafe hummed at the feeling. You’d forgotten what it felt like to lie beneath him and just let him have his way with you. It felt like so long since he hadn’t had to force you down and take his cock despite what you may have wanted. Although, your current position wasn’t all that different, but you couldn’t ignore how relaxed you were from whatever he’d slipped you.

Rafe shifted, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. His blue eyes glinted in the low lighting, and you blearily blinked up at him as he gazed down at you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours while still holding your gaze. Your lips parted at a particularly hard thrust, and the corner of his lips curved upwards at the sight.

Deep in the back of your mind, you knew you didn’t want this, but it was for so many reasons that you were struggling to remember. For the time being, all you could focus on was the curve of his cock as he repeatedly pushed it into you and how good it made you feel. One of your legs hooked around his waist, and Rafe’s perfect teeth winked at you as he grinned.

“I missed this, beautiful,” he whispered. “You know that?”

The bed jostled from your movements, and Rafe glanced down between you to watch himself disappear into you. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up,” he told you, making your heart skip a beat and reminding you of how and why you’d found yourself in this position in the first place. “Can’t wait to see you swollen and round again and fucking glowing.”

You murmured his name, but you couldn’t tell if it was in protest or not.

Your mind was all over the place, and when Rafe’s hips curved into yours again, you arched your chest up into his. Sweat clung to your frame, and you briefly wondered how made you would be at him in the morning. You knew this wouldn’t be his only attempt—Rafe always proving to be more than thorough when trying for a baby—and you now weakly wondered about having to be cautious of the food in your own house.

You could tell when he was close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and his breathing picking up. He started  to kiss you more, each kiss becoming  messier and more open mouthed than the last. In your inebriated state of mind, you kissed him back, alarm bells going off deep within your bones. Your own breathing was labored, like you couldn’t get air into your lungs fast enough.

When Rafe came the first time—and you knew that it would be the first of the night—he grunted in your ear as he spilled into you. Your nails were trailing along his skin as he plunged his cock into you, not even stopping when you felt him start to soften, lazily thrusting into your folds. Your own climax was just around the corner when he spoke.

“I will fuck you all night,” he whispered against your cheek, his tone vaguely threatening. “I will fuck you as many times as it takes until you give me what I want.”

He leaned back a bit, his nose touching yours as he tilted his head, eyeing you in a way that made your skin grow cold.

“...and I will do whatever I have to to make you…” he looked between your unfocused eyes. “...agreeable.”

[asce-of-hearts]

Hii omg i love your content SO much and i was wondering if you could write some nsfw headcanons for toby, masky and jeff with an inexperienced darling who’s all eager to please them :(

Eager

contents: NSFW Headcanons of yan!Ticci Toby, Yan!Masky and Yan!Jeff the Killer with an inexperienced darling who's eager to please them.

more content of Masky and Toby here

more content of Jeff here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-CON, YANDERE, KNIFE PLAY FOR JEFF, SORT OF GUN PLAY FOR MASKY, MENTIONS OF VIRGITINY FOR TOBY, NSFW.

Jeffrey Woods - Jeff the Killer

Jeff likes it because it makes him feel in control, and also because in his eyes that gives him permission to do anything he wants with you.

He likes that despite your trembling and whimpering, at how you're crying and trying your hardest not to flinch away from his cruel and bruising touch, you're still eager. Like a kicked puppy, you still look at him with those wide adoring eyes, asking for more even when you don't want to.

Trying your best to stay still as he draws blood out of you with his knife, its the best thing ever. He can cut and carve and mince as much of you as he wants and you won't complain, won't put up a fight.

And if you ever refuse he just has to manipulate and coerce you into agreeing, into thinking your refusal and dismissal of his desires its equivalent to murdering him in cold blood.

He's always very rough and harsh, very mean, very cruel. Not minding when you plead for him to slow down in the softest, meekest voice. He doesn't care, as long as he's getting his pleasure you come in second place.

Doesn't mean he's not grateful. He just doesn't care enough about it to say it. But he loves the way you behave, he loves the way you try.

You're the perfect victim.

Timothy Wright - Masky

Tim is relieved. Saves him the god awful job of having to force you. Not because it would make him guilty, but because having to fuck you while pinning you down or pointing a gun at you seems just so troublesome.

Even if he won't say it out-loud, it's cute, it's cute how you try. How your legs always end up trembling because he makes you ride him and you just want to bounce up and down over his cock faster, or how you gag as you try your best to not choke around his fat cock, or how you tear up as he forces you in the most strange and uncomfortable positions. All in the name of pleasure.

And he's... nice about it. Calling you a useless whore only the first couple of times you're unable to put less than half his dick inside your mouth. Degrading names morph into words of condescending praise whispered at you as he grins and pulls your hair, using you however he pleases.

He's not the best teacher, but not the worst entirely. He takes his time, wanting you to enjoy yourself at least a little bit.

Also because when he tried to shove his cock inside you for the first time without any prep you were so tight he felt like he was fucking a hydraulic press. Mmm-hmm, not the most pleasurable experience for either of you.

He's happy to have you willing to learn what he likes or needs.

Tobias Rogers - Ticci Toby

You're eager? Ha! He's eager!

His heart beats so fast when he sees you naked, he feels like he's going to burst when you kiss him. Too much tongue, and teeth and drool between the both of you, from both parts. You're equally as virginal and inexperienced.

A time of experimentation, even with the pains and embarrassments that come with it. Sessions that can last hour after hour, condom after condom, bed broken after bed broken. Some of those end up without either of you able to cum, others with both of you so overstimulated you feel like you'll die if you have another orgasm.

Very sweet, always mindful of doing his best to make you feel good. Definitely a very reciprocal scenario. He wants to please and you want to please, win-win.

His tics make it hard at times, sometimes you're about to cum and he just has to have a spasm that throws his rhythm off. Or accidentally shoving his cock inside your mouth too fast and too hard due to a tic that seemingly came out of nowhere. As long as you're able to overlook it or laugh it off with him, there should be no bigger issues with that.

hope you enjoyed this!!!!!!

have a great day/night

Like my works? Join the TAG LIST! (please write your @ correctly or else the tag won't work)

TAGGING:

For Jeff: @nenekusanagi @mxqiia @yukimutsu @mamachu @justmare

@artist-in-training-wheels @eroscastle @dollywonyoung @hbk99450 @stranger00001

@kitzusune @lakxcpsta @stardustdreamersisi @coolnekochan9961 @gammysblog 

@oliviathatgirl

For Masky: @nenekusanagi @yukimutsu @mamachu @justmare @eroscastle

@dollywonyoung @strawberries-fluff @stranger00001 @kitzusune @lakxcpsta

@amber8393 @melaniemartinez22  @bloody-noodles @gammysblog  @oliviathatgirl

For Toby: @nenekusanagi @yukimutsu @mamachu @justmare @eroscastle

@dollywonyoung @strawberries-fluff @hbk99450 @stranger00001 @kitzusune

@lakxcpsta @amber8393 @gammysblog  @oliviathatgirl

[floatyflowers]

Dark Aegon x Pregnant Hostage Reader x Dark Aemond

(Warning mentions of Non-con, and threats of baby getting taken away )

(Aemond gif belongs to Aegonx and Aegon's gif belongs to Barbieaemond)

Aemond took you as a hostage after what Vhagar did to Luke.

Aegon couldn't contain his happiness when Aemond has returned with a shaken you to the Redkeep.

It was no lie that the two Targaryen brothers are obsessed with you.

So, now, you, the daughter of Rhaenyra, is in their grasps, under their watch.

But they didn't know that you are pregnant from Jace.

Honestly you wanted to return to Dragonstone, to get married before the scandal gets out.

However, Aemond ruined that.

No one knows about your pregnancy except the maester who informed you, and you ordered him to keep it a secret.

It turned horrible, when Aegon would visit you at night, and molest you.

"No need to weep, I promise it would be a pleasent experience"

You couldn't help but breakdown fully afterwards in distress, praying

Meanwhile, Aemond would just lay his head in your embrace, like a small child, revealing to you his darkest secrets.

You thought that telling Aemond what Aegon has done to you, would soften his heart to allow you to leave.

But instead, it only made Aemond fume with jealousy and force himself on you.

The only person you found comfort in was Helaena.

This is why when Blood and Cheese happened, you tried to save Jaehaerys as Helaena took Jaehaera and fled.

However you failed and the two assassins tried to take you away with the head of Jaehaerys to return you to your mother, but got caught.

You were injured from resisting, and fainted from the horrors you saw due to the incident.

When you woke up, you found both Aemond and Aegon in front of your bed.

"The maester told us about your pregnancy" Aemond stated, his eye not moving away from your figure.

"You have two options..."

Aegon's two options were worse then each other.

He suggested to take you as a second wife, and claim your baby if it's a boy or a girl with valyrian features like you and Rhaenyra.

The second option is for you to marry Aemond, but your child would be given away to Aegon...

... if it is a boy with velyrian features, to claim him as his and Helaena's son, to be an heir.

You chose the second option, and prayed for one thing.

That your baby looks Strong rather than Targaryen or the baby is a girl.

[yandere-sins]

The Orcas’ Tale - After End

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

a/n: Another lovely commission for a sweet anon ♥ Thank you for commissioning me to write about my sweet fishy boy again!! :') It was a lot of fun!!! ♥

Characters: Nerrocan (OC) x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con, Rubbing, Penetration with too big penis, Reader's first time, Breeding Kink, Cuminflation, Creampie), Violence (Biting, Blood mention, Scratching, Mentioning of wounds), Mentioning of Testing on the Mermaids, Obsessiveness, Overpowering, Monster, Monster Features, Dual POV, Long Post Words: 8157

You should have been used to emerging from water by now, yet, you still gasped for air the moment you breached the surface. 

The pool water parted to reveal the indoor basin of the new cave constructed in Nerrocan's habitat. For a moment, you were almost taken aback by the deja vu as it reminded you of the original cave you had been relocated to by the three orcas way back at the beginning of your journey. But the longer you looked around, the more the illusion vanished. It was familiar, but not the same.

Strong arms wrapped around you from beneath the blue. Arms that should have induced a fight or flight instinct inside you, but the feeling had long turned into acceptance. After so many days spent together, there was almost nowhere Nerrocan hadn't touched you, and considering he swam across the ocean with you, there had been much more closeness between you two than just this simple touch. 

"How do you like it?" he whispered expectantly into your ear as he emerged after you. By now, he usually let you swim alone if you two had some time together aside from the experiments. Nerrocan found watching you use all your limbs to get through the water amusing, and you wanted to go easy on him, especially whenever he had gone through something painful or gotten wounded.

Somehow, this only made this situation more nerve-wracking for you. 

"It's familiar… and yet, not at all," you replied vaguely, assuming he knew what you meant. Nerrocan hummed softly in agreement, and you swam to the edge of the water, putting your hands on solid ground. By then, all the memories shattered as you felt the unnatural material beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the stone cave Nerrocan had lived in before with his cousins. The material this cave was made of was nothing like that. It was just an imitation—a fake. Because that's all it was.

"I wanted it to resemble your old home. I was hoping you'd feel more relaxed in a familiar environment."

Lifting yourself out of the water, you were given a small push as Nerrocan used his tail to help you up. It didn't make for the most graceful landing, but you were thankful regardless for the assist. Now standing in the cave, you inspected the dimensions, glad the facility hadn't saved on making it big enough for a species like Nerrocan. This way, he could move around comfortably, although you observed him pacing around the pool even after receiving a proper retreat. Staying indoors must have made him restless regardless of how much effort you put into making him comfortable. It still hurt in your heart that he let himself get captured just for the sake of bringing you back to your people. 

You heard Nerrocan come out of the water behind you as you checked out the cave, walking the perimeter around the exit. Very quickly, you found where he stored food and, strangely enough, stones. Even though you didn't question him why he'd pick out stones from the bottom of the pool, you made a mental note to ask other researchers if this was perhaps a sign of boredom and if you had to get him something to busy himself with. It wasn't always the best idea to ask Nerrocan directly, as he usually resorted to saying he was fine as long as you were around. No matter how close you two lived, you couldn't always be there. So, instead, you would have to ask around later what others thought. It was just how things were done here in the facility. 

Another thing you noticed was the lack of decorations. You remembered the cave of the orcas had trophies and skins hanging on the walls. Nerrocan wasn't allowed to make or wield weapons anymore, obviously. Still, since he couldn't hunt, there was no way for him to actually decorate. Maybe that's what the stones are for, you thought quietly, furrowing your brows. 

"Something displeases you?" he suddenly asked, and you had almost forgotten that he was still around, observing you like he did most days. 

"Oh! Oh, no! It's fine!" you replied quickly, moving on from the barren walls. Although, you wondered if Nerrocan would appreciate art. But how would you get a painting down here without the water ruining it?

Next up, you found an obviously assigned sleeping space, and you sighed a sigh of relief, seeing that, at least here, the makers of the caves had taken note of what you told them. It was a more private corner in the whole cave, even slightly covered by an extra wall so Nerrocan had at least a tiny bit of privacy from the cameras that you saw blinking around the wall encircling this space. It would probably be your job to analyze the materials and repair them if they broke, which would be a hassle. But not anyone could just jump into Nerrocan's pool and especially enter his cave. That privilege went to only one person: you. 

"Do you get some good sleep here? Looks comfy!" you asked, pointing at the fur-bedding. It wasn't as smooth as seal fur but thicker, slightly elevated from the ground, reminding you of a futon. Perhaps Nerrocan could like this new added comfort. You definitely were glad about lying down on a mattress again rather than fur on the ground. 

"It's fine," he answered, a familiar response. You almost jumped a bit hearing him right behind you, looking back to find him having closed the distance to you while you were thinking about his bed. His eyes dragged away from the fur, Nerrocan's expression unreadable. Still, somehow, it gave you the feeling he didn't like the bed as much, considering it was just "fine". He might not have been an orca of many words, but you did feel he'd expressed himself differently had he actually liked it. It was time to change tactics!

"Do you prefer seal fur for–"

"You can sit down if you–"

Both of you looked at each other, stopping halfway through your sentences. It was rare that you two spoke up at the same time, but even Nerrocan's lips curled into a smile as you chuckled about it. However, he had no idea what that invitation elicited inside you, a knot forming in your stomach as you stood there, nervously thinking about your options. 

You two were a team; it wasn't right to distrust him. He had done a lot for you, and you weren't ungrateful for all his efforts, but you've noticed Nerrocan pushing. Pushing for something that you simply couldn't wrap your head around doing. 

The staff and the professor had told you extensively about your role and how to conduct yourself. They weren't shy and didn't make any of it sound goofy or pitiful as they explained the terms and what to do. Somehow, you were able to avoid it all this time up until now. Yet, the thought came back to you with the same fear and reluctance as when you first listened to them explain what it meant to mate. 

Essential, they had called it. The most important factor to the whole facility. Mermaids that didn't bond and mate with their caretakers were usually dead within months as they slowly withered away without a reason to live. Nerrocan had to have a mate, or he would probably die too. Despite your best care, the stones possibly were the first indication of his mental health declining. It was for the best of the test subjects, but you… you couldn't do it. 

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, giving him a fake smile before replying, "S-Sure!" as confidently as you could. Carefully, you took a seat at the edge of his "bed", feeling the soft material below you give in beneath your body, yet cushioning you all the same. It didn't feel bad at all, but when you brushed your hand through the fur, you noticed how different it was from the softer seal Nerrocan was used to. 

"You know, it's no trouble to change this if you'd prefer a softer material to sleep on. How about we add some pillows? Do you know what a pillow is? You place your head on it. It's pretty nice!"

Perhaps you were rambling a little as you drew in your knees, hugging them tight to your chest like a defense barrier. You had to accept his invitation if you wanted information that would ultimately help him. Knowing what he was sleeping on right now would later benefit your case if you needed to ask for other things for him. Even if you didn't like how exposed you felt like this, it was your job to take care of him and make sure he was doing fine, even if he wasn't the best to communicate his feelings and thoughts to you. He had no one besides you to rely on, so you couldn't let him down even if you were uncomfortable.

Nerrocan had crawled closer once you took your seat, waiting for something it felt like as his muscles kept tensing and relaxing visibly. But there was a small sparkle in his eyes that you couldn't quite pinpoint. Maybe excitement? He seemed happier when you two talked about whatever came to mind, so perhaps he enjoyed the conversation despite your rambling. If you could make him happy just a little bit, that would be good. It would keep him healthy in the long run despite the awful things he had to endure. Tightening your arms around your legs, you tried not to think about it and instead focus on him. 

"It's fine. Perfect, now, actually."

There it was. Nerrocan, sly as he was, knew how to intensify words if he wanted. He had no problems with telling you if he liked something, if he actually meant it. And he did, now, after you sat down… in his sleeping spot… oh no.

Nerrocan let out a soft chirp as he leaned down more, almost bending over you and trapping you in his resting area with his big body. You couldn't outswim him, but a moment of surprise could be the only reason you left his cave alive. No matter how well-disposed he was towards you, you could never let your guard down around a predator like him. 

"Well! Great! I see you've been settling in nicely!"

You laughed nervously as you jumped up with too much vigor, almost banging your head with his, but Nerrocan reared back just in time. He was just like an animal in such moments, immediately alert and reactive. And you were just a human, you… you couldn't be his mate. You couldn't stay here and pretend that wasn't what everyone—including Nerrocan—seemed to want from you. Hell, how would that even work?! He was so big and you were average at best! You two were so different, there was no way he would even fit—

"I-I should go!" you announced, suddenly overrun by your emotions. Somehow, you had managed to spiral yourself back into a state of panic, your heart racing while your head filled with unnecessary ideas. Imagining yourself with Nerrocan… that was simply too much for you. 

"Wait!" Nerrocan called out as you stormed to a smaller part of his body so you could step over him and get to the pool. You didn't need to look back to know he was following you, the cave slightly creaking as he turned over to go after you. You had freaked yourself out enough that you didn't stop. This wasn't the ocean, and you were good enough of a swimmer to get out of the pool on your own. However, your footsteps grew smaller as you got closer to the water. 

Your reaction wasn't fair. Nerrocan had done nothing to you, and yet, you treated him like a pervert just because some scientists wanted you to think about him that way. Mate this or that, but in the first place, he was your savior and fellow sufferer. If anything… he was your friend. He didn't deserve to be treated this way. It was only you who interpreted the things you were afraid of. Nerrocan wasn't at fault.

Taking a deep breath, you turned around, laying your head to the side questioningly, deciding to give it one more go before you chickened out for no apparent reason. "Are you okay?" he asked, shifting slightly from side to side to look you over. Worried, he stared at your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin as your stupid brain imagined him undressing you with his eyes. You told yourself he was just concerned about you, but the icky feeling remained. 

"Your heart was beating very fast. Do you need to rest?"

"Ah, you know…" you stumbled, avoiding eye contact with him. Of course, he heard that. Stupid orca senses! "I'll just get back and take a nap. I'm sure it's going to go away again soon!"

You gave him a curt smile, pointing at the water. But before you could turn even to look at the pool, his big hands reached out, faster than you could register, lifting you up from the ground.

"Woah!" you exclaimed as Nerrocan tugged you in against his chest, twisting his huge body over and facing his bed again before scooting closer. Even this touch wasn't unfamiliar, and neither was the feeling of his skin against your palms and face. But your body only decided to freak out more. What was he going to do? Would he demand his right to mate? Did you delude yourself into honestly thinking Nerrocan wanted you like this? Did you really think he'd be okay without a mate?

With your eyes closed tightly, you only felt yourself lifted off the orca and sat down on the soft bedding again. Once more, you had let the intrusive thoughts take over your critical thinking, and when you slowly blinked open your eyes, you looked straight into Nerrocan's, his gaze filled with concern. One hand supported you on your back as if he was afraid you were going to faint at any second now, while he used the other to cup your face, clearly still looking for wounds he had missed. He would have smelled the blood, of course, but it seemed even his rationality could be thrown out of the proverbial window when it came to you. 

"Do you need food? Water? Are you in pain?"

His questions were so innocent, his voice breaking with worry, making it hard for him to speak clearly. No matter how well he spoke the human language, his instincts were always at the forefront, and those allowed only the orca way of communication, the soothing rumble in his chest being evidence of this. When you didn't immediately answer him, his expression merely darkened as he chortled, trying to coax what you needed out of you. 

"I'm really fine, Nerrocan," you reassure him, much softer than you thought you were able to. Somehow, his concern and efforts to make you comfortable warmed your heart. You were unjust to assume the worst of him, and he had proven to you yet again that he was simply concerned about your well-being. Maybe he was right, and you needed some rest, this situation had already taken its toll on you. 

"Good, okay. Your heart is still beating very fast, what can I do?"

"Maybe… let's just talk?"

"Sure." Nerrocan nods thoughtfully, imitating your gesture while seemingly trying to fulfill your request. "What is that thing you talked about like? That… pillow?"

"Oh!" you exclaimed, delighted to hear him remember. It seemed like such a small matter to talk about, but you were happy that he listened and followed up on what you said. "It's soft and slightly elevated! You can tug it beneath your head so your spine rests evenly, although I know you can't lie on your back, but at least turned to your side?"

You took a moment to think about whether Nerrocan could sleep with a pillow in the first place, something you should have considered much earlier before suggesting it, but now, you just had to go with the flow. However, you didn't notice him shift, laying down flat on his stomach before asking, "Like this?" And suddenly, with no small strain on your thighs, his head fell into your lap, arms reaching up and around your body, keeping it in place.

"Y-Yeah," you mumbled, stunned. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Nerrocan could really understand you and make logical connections. And in moments like this, it was even harder to make yourself believe he didn't do it with some ulterior motives. Not like this was the first time he ever laid his head in your lap, but still, under these circumstances, it made you nervous again. 

Inhaling deeply, you reminded yourself to trust and stay calm, slowly letting your hand fall on top of his head and brushing through his hair. Nerrocan's lips trembled before he gave up his composure and smiled, the rumbling in his chest almost like a purr while he made a few satisfied clicking sounds. 

"Don't get too comfortable, big guy. I'm just taking a quick rest before going back to work!" you joked with him, running both of your hands through his slick hair. As always, it was untangled despite the length, still as beautifully shimmering and glossy as you were used to it. A good sign, you figured, considering his hair had fallen out yet from the stress and procedures. 

Making a sound of disapproval, Nerrocan turned his head forward. His arms tightened around you, and you gave a small, nervous chuckle as you watched him nuzzle his face into and between your thighs. His hold on you got even stronger as you noticed his upper body lifting and staying like this for a moment before sinking, as if he just took a deep breath. Shame ran over you, the wetsuit you wore smelling like water and fish, but who knew what he could smell with his enhanced senses? You washed up this morning, but that was a few hours ago… 

While fearing about your body hygiene, you didn't notice the mischievous glint in Nerrocan's eyes as he watched your expression, his body weight shifting more and more on top of you. It wasn't until you felt yourself losing balance, toppling backward, that you started to struggle against the inevitable, big hands catching you before you could hurt yourself. At the same time, Nerrocan took the chance to scoot up higher, hovering above you when your head fell into the cushioned bed. 

"I've waited a long time for this," Nerrocan mumbled, a guttural sound as his head dipped into the space between your head and shoulder, slick skin against your wetsuit, the tip of his nose dragging down the side of your throat, smelling you again. "For this place to be set up and for you to visit here. It being just us."

"Ne- Nerrocan!" you protested, bracing your hands against his shoulders. It was foolish to think you could lift him off you. Nerrocan's head dipped lower and lower, driving between your collarbones and your breasts, the feeling of his breath pervading even your clothes and tingling over your skin. His hand slid out from beneath you, and you saw your chance of slipping upwards and away. But the second you moved, his palms closed around your sides, holding them firmly in place and tugging you back down again beneath him. 

"Nerrocan, stop!" you said more firmly this time, and he stilled as if snapping out of a trance. 

"Why?" he asked, looking up again. This time, his expression seemed hurt, as if you denying him this was causing him physical pain. 

"We aren't the same species! We can't do this!"

"We can," he replied without hesitation.

"They told me it was possible. That if I prepared you well, you'd be able to take me. It's okay to mate with a human, they said."

"They? Who told you these things?! How would that even work?! Do you even know what that means?!"

Panic raised your voice, and you watched his expression change briefly. Perhaps the sound disturbed him, or he was questioning what either of you knew, but eventually, he simply replied, "The other humans. Those with the white clothes," and it dawned on you. While you thought you had things under control, the other researchers started feeding Nerrocan a very different narrative. One where all of this was normal. One where he could do as his nature demanded. 

And when you didn't react fast enough, nature won over him. 

One hand retracted from the side of your body, reaching down between your legs and settling right against your pussy. You squealed as a bolt of surprised arousal drove through your body, Nerrocan rubbing his dangerously clawed finger up and down your slit. Immediately, you shut your legs around his wrist, but it did nothing to stop him. Instead, it made your pussy grind upwards into the touch, and you bit your lip. 

"It's- It's not right!" you stammered, reaching for his hand. 

"But you smell so good. You came here to mate, claim my cave as yours. That's a sign, right?"

"N-No! I didn't! I never intended to claim this place or you! Stop smelling me!"

"It's tough," Nerrocan admitted, gulping while his finger worked a unique magic on your cunt. He could move his joints much like a wave, teasing your clit at one point and your entrance at the next. Together with the friction of the wetsuit it was a deadly combination. Yet, you didn't want to dwell on it, feeling the treacherous heat spreading through your body. "Every inch of you smells so good, mate."

His head reappeared in front of yours, his massive form crushing as if he was going to swallow whole. Nerrocan's eyes were lidded, dark dots one could get lost in, but as if sniffing wasn't enough, his tongue suddenly slipped out of his mouth, dragging from your jaw to your cheek bone. You'd never taken much note about how long it was until he was licking you, making you feel even more like a delicious snack rather than a respected friend. This was getting out of hand, and you had to do something fast!

"Nerrocan, we can't– Mmpf!"

Not giving you the chance to finish the sentence, Nerrocan slipped his tongue between your open lips, his mouth crashing down on yours while his fingers stopped for a brief moment. He dipped deeply into the kiss, filling you with his tongue and breath, both hot and relentless as they explored every inch of your mouth. Your head was spinning with how much Nerrocan there was and how little of you. But even when you tightened your grip on his shoulders, nails digging into them, he didn't let off, instead picking up the teasing with his finger again, although his movements were rougher now than before. It felt like he was desperate to make you agree with him, however he had to. Perhaps those were his instincts taking over again, forcing him to claim his mate however possible, but it didn't help you at all. 

Shrieking into his mouth was all you could do as his other hand furled inwards, claws snagging at your wetsuit and running over your back. The sting revealed the damage to your skin, yet the fabric ripping was what horrified you. Pulling your head back, you tried to escape, tried to appeal to his reason, but Nerrocan followed every one of your movements with the precision of an instinctual predator. 

All this time, you tried to assure yourself it wouldn't happen. That you two were better than the vulgar things the researchers had told you about. Just because some caretakers had intimate relationships with their protégés didn't mean it had to happen to you two! You thought you were better than this! That you could make it without crossing the line between two species…

You should have listened to your gut telling you to run a few minutes ago.

Because now you were stuck.

The sound of a big chunk of your wetsuit tearing, pulled you out of your spiral of misery. The hand that had fondled you through the fabric slipped into the tear, going straight back between your legs even though you shut them tight. However, your strength was nothing compared to Nerrocan's, and he easily reached his goal with the sheer mass of his palm. 

You wanted to yell at him, insult and tell him how dare he did this to you, but instead of your anger, an unwelcome moan slipped from your tongue over his. Immediately, it was answered by a rumble from his throat. Nerrocan's tongue kept assaulting your mouth, flopping out whenever it became too much to lodge it inside you, all while he was prying open your lower lips, coating his hand in unmistakable arousal. Even though your body's reaction wasn't your fault, you felt ashamed of the squelching and sloppy sounds coming from above as well as below. 

It also made you wonder if Nerrocan knew what he was doing. Because you did, but only to a certain extent, and if you both had no idea, that could be deadly. 

With all your strength left, you finally turned your head, signaling the kiss to stop. Nerrocan was like a truck, speeding through this process as if he had something important to deliver. But at the same time, he was crushing you with his instincts that were driving him wild. It almost seemed too late to stop, but you had to do all you could to tell him how you felt and how this wasn't right. 

"I can't!" you gasped, coughing really hard once his tongue had pulled out completely. "I can't take you! It won't fit! I never… I've never done this before!"

Nerrocan said nothing, the silence stifling. What was he thinking? Did he understand what you meant? Would he stop now? His finger ceased moving, although his palm kept cupping your pussy, completely covered in your slick by now. 

"I am… your first," he finally said, but it didn't sound like a question. "No one's ever touched you before."

Heat rose to your head as he spoke it out so clearly. Hiding your face with your hand, you whispered, "No," hoping this would finally deter him. But when you snuck a peek through the gaps between your fingers, all you saw was a mysterious glint in his eyes, and the next thing you heard was a deep rumble resonating through the whole cave. 

"I'll take such good care of you," Nerrocan said solemnly, his free hand falling to your head and brushing back some of your hair. He kissed the top of your head multiple times, muttering promises like, "You'll lack nothing, my mate," in between kisses. It didn't seem like he had any intentions to stop, you realized, if anything, this had turned him on even more.

"That's not what I meant!" you protested, but he wouldn't listen. His hand between your legs tensed, pressing outward, the fabric giving way quickly and exposing you completely. 

"I'll make you happy, I promise."

"What?! No!"

Panicked, you tried to sit up, only to brace your arm against Nerrocan as he began to move. His weight could crush you, so you had to relent when he rolled onto his chest, hovering above you. Your legs spread outwards to accommodate his tail between them, and Nerrocan crouched a bit higher to line up your hips with his. Still, he was arching his back, keeping his head close to yours. 

Even though you found hold on his body, no amount of strength could push him away. Horrified, you looked down between your legs, watching as the tip of his cock pressed out of the slit on his tail, and before you knew it, the massive shaft emerged completely, already twitching as beads of precum ejected from its tip. 

"That– That's not possible! We can't! I absolutely can't!" 

"You'll do well, mate. I believe in you. I know you can take me, relax."

Lining up his tip to your cunt, more precum bubbled from his cock, the fluids almost as heavy as the air suddenly felt. You'd be fucked to death if he managed to get this monster cock inside you. This was it. This would be the end. And all because you hadn't been more careful, didn't keep your distance like you should have. Trusted him. 

"No, no, no, no…" you mumbled, looking up and giving Nerrocan one last fearful look, which he reciprocated immediately. However, instead of understanding, all you saw was desire in his eyes. Lust, pleasure, want. Nerrocan couldn't be reasoned with, not when he wanted to spear you on his cock and use you as his toy to satisfy his needs. You didn't believe he truly thought of you as a mate. A mate would take care of the other, right? Help them get through these situations that made them anxious and afraid! But he was doing the complete opposite, not even giving you a chance to safe yourself. 

With a pained groan stuck in your throat, you felt his cock move slowly inside you, prying open your walls. The preparations had given him a small chance to penetrate, but your hymen was tearing just from inserting the tip. Nerrocan, too, took a sharp breath, feeling your tightness as he nudged his shaft inside with small pushes, and already, you could take no more. Nerrocan was going to ruin your poor pussy, and take your first time as if it belonged to him. 

"It hurts!" you whined, tears shooting into your eyes as the pain was threatening to overtake you. 

Immediately, the merman sprang into action, leaning down, kissing your forehead and face, chirping encouragingly between his sentences. Every time he pushed, a new praise fell as a reward. "You're doing so good," he muttered as you shrieked, his bulbous tip reaching its biggest point. Worse was yet to come, but it hurt like hell. You knew that in a matter of a few pushes, Nerrocan would take your virginity and your pussy for his own pleasure. There was absolutely nothing you could do, and it made you despair. 

You clung to him desperately, no deep breath helping you relax. "You can do it; look at you taking me," he tried to soothe you, but there was no chance you could do either. You didn't even want to see him getting inside you, much less experience it. But Nerrocan left you no choice as he advanced. With one rough push, he finally breached the abilities of your pussy, and it gave way to him much too easily.

Your back arched, voice getting stuck in your throat, and you blacked out for a short moment as your hymen tore. The pain of his massive cock taking your first time was too much to handle, but after Nerrocan let out a guttural moan, more juices mingling inside you that were probably equal parts yours and his, he pulled his cock out again before jutting it back into the same place and shaking you awake. 

Even though it felt like a nightmare, it was very real and frightening, especially as Nerrocan advanced. 

"That's it," he praised, kissing the top of your head. "You're doing so good, my mate, just a little more."

There were more words, but you could barely register them as you felt your walls spread impossibly wide around his shaft, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside you as if to make more space for itself in a completely cramped place. It still felt impossible, but Nerrocan managed to keep digging inch by inch, spreading and claiming more of your pussy for himself. Nerrocan kept trilling next to you, working his shaft back and forth to ease it inside, and you were stuck between helplessness and feeling your body slowly adjust. The idiotic thought of "maybe I am made for this" came over you as you felt the tears spilling from your eyes, allowing you to realize it wasn't supposed to be like this at all. 

But here you were, betrayed by your only friend in this strange life you were thrown into, allowing him to call you his mate and fuck you with his big, monstrous cock. You had screwed up, that much was sure, and you didn't know if you'd ever recover from it. Especially not when instead of a scream, another moan escaped you, the moment Nerrocan finally had used up all the space inside of you to claim you. 

You sounded so heavenly. 

Not only that but your scent, body, everything about you was perfect. The researcher told me that the moment I got to claim you would be the most wonderful thing I ever experienced in my life. And for once, they weren't lying. You smelled heady, the air around us filling with the scent of your need. A need for me. Finally, you wanted me, too, taking me and uniting us as we should be. This was what mateship was all about, the feeling of belonging together, both body and mind.

It was exhilarating.

Your body wound itself beneath me, squeezing and moving around my cock that I finally filled you with. You said you couldn't take it, but you did. My mate. My perfect, beautiful mate, your eyes dazed and filled with tears as I bucked my hips forward gently. You made the most adorable gurgles, biting your lip, although I would have preferred to hear all of your voice, you really didn't have to hold back. Surely, you, too, must have felt the bliss of our union, the beautiful play of our bodies?

And even more exciting than that, you gave me your first time. Your insides were shaping themselves around my cock, learning to accommodate it despite the tightness. Yet, you did so well taking every inch of me, your beautiful thighs pressing against the sides of my tail, keeping me firmly situated inside you. Our mateship must have been meant to be if you waited for me to come into your life before giving me your new, beautiful pussy to mate. To fill, to breed.

Sinking my hands into your hair, I couldn't help myself from pulling your head back, exposing your throat, the most vulnerable part of your delicious body. The slight smell of blood coming from your cunt only made my cock twitch more, tingling all the senses of a hunter. I wanted to bite you so badly, taste your blood on my tongue, and coat my teeth with it that it hurt. There was way too much of your body still covered, even though we had no need for clothes any longer. I almost felt resentful towards the fabric covering you, denying me the view of the most beautiful treasure of this world—you. 

I had waited too long for this moment to not leave my mark on your body as I should. 

If you were to get lost, anyone should know who you belonged to. Whose fangs they'd have to go against to claim you in the same way I had. As if I'd ever lose a fight when the prize was my mate and the right to keep calling you that. I didn't fight, hunt, and train for so long that just anybody could waltz in and take you from me now. 

"I'll be gentle, I promise" I murmured, driving my lips over your shoulder. It was the perfect place, above your heart, next to your throat. My face fit nicely in the curve between your neck and arm, as if this spot was made for my mark. Perhaps, you were. Made for me, that is. I had never seen someone rouse as many emotions in me as you did or induce this constant, mind-numbing heat that I was acting on now. With your pussy around my cock and my teeth about to sink into your body, I was the closest to you that I ever had been, and there was no place I'd rather be. 

My throat rumbled in contentment, my whole being agreeing with the thought of marking you. Lips splitting, my teeth were ready to punctuate, to clamp down, to tear. But I wouldn't treat you like that. I'd only taste the sweetest prey I had ever encountered. I wouldn't linger, wouldn't hurt you more than necessary. Hurt, it would, so I fastened the pace of my hips, distracting you with the added friction until you were whining softly with every push. It was adorable when one of your hands clung to my arm, digging your puny little nails into it. But I hoped it would scar. That you'd mark me just like I would, you. 

Which gave me the idea to cup your face, prying your mouth open by pushing a finger between your blunt teeth. The damage would be small compared to mine, but it was only right you got the same chance as I did. With all the preparations done, it was time to claim you. I knew it was meant to be, and yet, I hesitated because of the thought of hurting you. But I had to believe in myself. I knew I'd never cause you great harm. I could control the urges and stop when it was necessary. You and I had been through worse together; we'd also get through the stages of mating. 

At least, mating was more pleasurable. 

"Shh, it's okay, I'll be gentle," I repeated softly, hearing how your breathing turned unnaturally fast after seeing my teeth. A shudder went through you, and I couldn't help groaning as I felt it around my cock, too. Your voice grew louder, vibrating against my finger, but I gave it no heed. Resting my lips on your body, I took one more deep breath, soaking in the scent of your body, your arousal, the tinge of blood I had smelled before. 

Delicious. 

And with that, my teeth opened, sinking deep into your flesh. The fabric covering you was no more a hindrance than uncovered skin, giving no resistance. But my tongue immediately went to lap up the droplets of blood that formed around my teeth, a strong, desirable taste filling my mouth. Together with the smell of your body they completely fogged my mind, my hips snapping forward harder as your cunt tightened around my cock, reluctant to let me go. 

Was this it? The sign that you were cumming? Would I be the first orca to take and claim his human mate in every aspect? A guttural groan resonated through my body, my pace growing harder. I knew it instinctively, it was a mating call. We were now bound to each other. There was no more space to stuff my cock into, but I still hadn't had enough. Gripping one of your beautiful thick thighs in my hand, the flesh so soft and pliable in my grasp, I adjusted our position and brought us even closer together. Our size difference was but a small obstacle when it came to mating, and I was determined to make up for it with my strength and skill. 

I had barely heard the first scream you let out when I bit you, much less the beautiful symphony of moans and cries that my finger muffled. Blood coating my tongue, my lips, my throat, I felt my cock swell inside you, the feeling eliciting another shriek against my finger. However, this time, I did notice it. You were biting down so hard as if your life depended on it. It was a cute effort, considering you barely broke through my skin, much less tore junks out of it like I wanted. I could feel your heartbeat in my mouth as it wouldn't stop hammering in your chest, and your pussy held on tight to my cock as I lodged it as deep as possible inside you.

I was going to fill you up to the brim. As much as your little human body could hold of my seed, I'd give to you and then some. Everything was perfect, the sound of your voice, the beating of your heart. The taste of your blood on my lips and the tightness of your cunt as I made the last few pushes towards my release. They promised everything would turn out well, but no one could have prepared me for how wonderful it was to finally be with you. 

Roaring wildly into your shoulder, my cock exploded. Little stars clouded my vision as I felt your body spasm beneath me, trying to adjust to the amounts of seed I was pumping in you. A small part hoped it would take root inside you. Would make you round and full with our calves, and I got to care for you throughout the whole pregnancy. Even if this was our first time, I couldn't help but want to breed you to the point you'd be unable to walk on your own anymore. I wanted you to depend on me, lean on me, letting me do everything for you while you created our beautiful little babies. The product of our love for each other. We'd be a perfect little family; nothing could take this from me. 

We'd have to wait and see, but I couldn't wait for the day to come. 

As fast as it had happened, it was over. My cock was still splurting more cum inside you, but you laid limply beneath me, your own orgasm having taken all your energy out of you. I unlocked my jaw as slowly as possible. However, it made a slight jerk despite my best efforts. But my teeth were finally pulling out of your flesh, leaving only the beautiful marks of our mateship behind, bleeding and sullying the bed, which I more than welcomed. 

You groaned, and I finally pried my finger out of your mouth so I could listen to the sound. Your eyes were unfocused and dull. The intensity must have taken a toll on your strength, but you were no less beautiful, your belly swollen with my seed, and your body marked and satisfied. 

"You did so well," I purred, giving you small chirps to ensure you'd understand my sincerity. Not everyone could have done so well, but my mate. My mate could. You were beautiful, perfect. Made for me, for our family. I had regretted it many times to have brought you to this place, but just as often did I think it had been the right choice. Now, we were inseparable, and I felt more validated in my choice. 

Slowly, I pulled back my cock, your pussy making it hard to exit with how much it clung to me. All while cooing and kissing your face and your body. Already, I felt myself grow hard again, my cock barely able to retract into its slit with how massive it still was. There were still so many things I wanted to do with you. The thoughts of marking other places like your breasts and those delicious thighs were driving me insane with their allure, but I stayed strong for you.

It's what we did for the people we loved, and right now, you just needed me to hold you as your body tried to come down from the height and adore you like I always did. The humans called it "aftercare," and I listened closely to their tips, although I couldn't bring myself to fetch some food and water for you yet. Not when you were curled so adorably in my arms, my hand on your swollen belly, making it easy to imagine what it would be like if you were carrying our little pup inside you. I did feel spent, ready to take a long nap by your side, but not before I made sure you were settled in comfortably, your eyes still wide open as you lay limply on my bed. 

Even if this was only the first time, it had made it all worth it. All the pain and suffering, all the fear and traumatic experiences. The fights, the humiliation. Now that I had you by my side, able to call you my mate completely without any doubts, it had been worth the troubles. It would be worth anything that may come in the future as long as I got to hold you again like this, fill you with my seed, and forget everything else that was happening around us. It had taken so long until we finally got this space we could call our own. Decorate, be together in, share love. This was where only we existed, and I couldn't wait to see what we'd do with it in the future, but I knew it would be great. 

And no one would get in the way of our happiness, even if you still had doubts.

You let out a quiet shudder, feeling Nerrocan's hand combing through your curls, ruined and messy from what had just happened. It still felt like you were waking up from a nightmare, but the pain had always been there. Both your shoulder and your pussy hurt. You felt the semen run down your lower lips and coat your thighs. Every time Nerrocan rubbed over your belly, another spurt of his jizz shot from your hole, and you felt degraded and disgusted with the feeling of semen sloshing in your womb. It wasn't possible to get pregnant, right? Was it? They were half human-like… that didn't mean you two were compatible, right? 

Tears filled your eyes as you couldn't help sobbing out loud. The bitten shoulder had no strength to pull up your arm so you could muffle yourself and the other was almost as dead still from the shock. Even though it hurt, even though you didn't want it, eventually, pleasure caught up to you, making you cum on his huge, massive cock as if you wanted it. It had felt good every time the pain vanished. And even now, Nerrocan was purring and chortling, soothing the pain in your soul even though he had torn it apart. 

You'd never be able to trust him again. To work with him even. You'd have to find a new purpose in this facility, but something inside you told you they wouldn't let you. This would be your new life, and you'd have to adjust to it to survive. It was unfair. Painful. You wanted to hate him, yet you still couldn't because of all you two had been through and all he continued to do for you. And although it wasn't right and should have never happened—not like this, at least—you could also understand him to a degree that it was the comfort Nerrocan needed, even if he made it seem like you did, too. 

"We're going to have such beautiful calves. You'll be such a good mommy," he praised you, and you sobbed out loud again, taking a deep, unbelieving breath. This couldn't be real, it was just too cruel. 

Nerrocan kissed your forehead, cradling your back further against his chest, his cock having slipped back into the slit, and you were thanking any god that was listening for that. You couldn't take any more fucking than that, and you'd never come down into his nest again and indulge him like you had that day. He had already ruined to much, destroyed your body and the relationship you two had. 

Moving you only made you feel more of the cum spurting from your pussy, coating you both as you whimpered, and Nerrocan trilled excitedly. "We're going to make so many babies!" he announced, and you wept, the image alone too hard to handle. 

"You did so well, today, my mate. I can't wait for the next time," he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple all the way down to your jaw. Every bit of adoration, praise, and intimacy appalled you, and you turned your face away, wanting to grieve your innocence and stupidity as you swore to never allow a repeat of what happened. 

"I'm not your mate," you slurred as the exhaustion hit you hard. Even in this situation, dangerous as it was, your body still felt safe enough around Nerrocan to sleep. Traitor, you thought as your eyes closed. 

"Yes, you are," he replied softly, noticing your drowsiness as he placed an arm beneath your head, cushioning it. Ironic, wasn't it? Luckily, you were already asleep when he spoke up again, able to preserve the last bits of your sanity from being lost forever.

"I'll do everything to change your mind."

[calypso-apologist]

could i pls have headcanons of yandere Antinous x princess of Ithaca/daughter of Pen n Ody reader 🙏🙏🙏

antinous oh antinous the things i'd do to you

Yandere!Antinous x Princess of Ithaca!Reader ♡

cw: mdni. nsfw mentions. non-con/dub-con implied. yandere. antinous starter pack: manipulation and questionable consent. murder. pregnancy. non-descriptive birth. i have issues.

The queen was a stubborn wretch, refusing to pick a new king. She believed Odysseus was still out there, that he'd come back. Antinous might not be a chosen of Athena, but he's not a fool, either. He knows she's stalling.

And while other suitors insist on trying to get to Penelope somehow, Antinous figured that there might be an easier way to secure his place in the royal family.

After all, Telemachus wasn't necessarily the only choice for the king. There was also his twin sister. Odysseus never named his heir, so it could be either of the twins.

Or rather, the son or the daughter's husband. So why not become just that?

And while at first it was just about the throne, the more he watched you, the more he followed you around... the more he started to crave you.

The need to possess you was no longer just his desire for just the throne, no... he wanted you.

He wanted the princess of Ithaca to be his. He wanted to tear her dress to shreds, to see her naked body shaking and she whimpered and squirmed under him in bed. He wanted to see pretty tears running down her soft cheeks, maybe even watch her struggle a bit as she tried to keep her dignity at first, before surrendering to him.

And even if she tried to fight, tried to get him to leave... He could simply hold her down, could he not?

But, since she seemed like such a sweet young thing, he decided to play it safe. After all, if she falls for him genuinely, it'll all be so much easier.

Besides, with young, kind souls like hers, it really didn't even take that much effort. Antinous was a charismatic bastard. And the princess was innocent, lacking experience when it came to romance.

Of course, there was hesitance at first, but all it took was a sad little act about how he let himself get lost in his ambition and the young princess immediately looked at him with a more merciful, understanding gaze.

With that, obtaining her friendship and affections was just a matter of time and charm. Say what you want about Antinous, but he could be one charming motherfucker if he so wished.

He didn't even need three months before sneaking into your bedroom at sunset, his words wrapping around your heart and brain like constricting snakes around their victims.

And despite how hesitant the princess was about giving up her precious innocence, she really didn't need much convincing. She loved him, after all, and he loved her. She shouldn't overthink things, she should simply give herself to him, let him ravage her.

Did it really matter that it hurt? It was supposed to, she was a smart girl, she should know that. She should trust him. Love him. He loved her, after all, he kept whispering so into her ears as she sobbed softly, her whole body trembling from the rough yet oddly delicate treatment. It seemed to be something only he could do, to violate her so lovingly.

And of course, he couldn't just stop after the first time, no... He had to visit her each night, fill her up, make sure his seed would take, binding the two of them forever.

Once the pregnancy was confirmed, he was quick to rid the palace of all the other suitors, one by one, before he finally asked Penelope for her daughter's hand in marriage, bringing the shared "love" to attention and saying he even made all the others leave to prove himself.

And even despite how hesitant the queen was, she gave in to how much the princess insisted.

And for the first few months, he seemed like a dream husband, always by his wife's side, helping her through the pregnancy, willing to make every wish come true, not even a flash of irritation on his face despite how ridiculous the princess's whims might've been.

But when the faithful day came, he was late. By the time he finally appeared, the mother of his child was too vulnerable to question the blood on his hands as he cradled her face, offering hushed reassurances before the room was filled with the sound of a newborn baby crying as it was forced to greet the world, torn out of its mother's womb.

The princess only found out why her husband was late and bloody a few days later, as Antinous was crowned king. He used the chaos that surrounded the birth to kill Penelope and Telemachus. Fortunately for him, his precious wife was too far gone in his manipulations to even try to rebel against him. Instead, she remained by his side, forever faithful with his firstborn in her arms.

And she'll have more. His previous little queen.

[vellichor-of-the-solivagant]

Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 1

Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader

Drabble / Masterlist / DISCORD SERVER

Preface

Females have begun to decline as swiftly as time has, and that was when males of all races, began to become desperate. This led to women being collected at birth and sold at auction, and they gradually became one of the most coveted items.

Despairing to keep what have to become sacred treasures across the land hidden, parents started to hide their daughters.

You are one of them.

Until, what you had always thought your last hope, the Government issued a large-scale raid for women, and forced you out of hiding, thrown into the house of four powerful monsters.

Context Warning: NSFW! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dub-con/ Non-con, Fingering, Murder, Author's Poor Attempt in Dark Fic, Monsterfucking, Mentions of Slavery

Disgusting, filthy, bottom crawlers.

That was the first thought that came to your mind as the Shadow Company of the Government raided your once safe haven. Your body trembled before them as though you were heaved into a freezing lake, left to die. Your breathing was heavy as though you went for a track. Your sweat coated every inch of your skin.

But the cleaver knife and gun in your hand said otherwise.

Heads and hearts exploded each time a deafening noise echoed in everyone's ears, blocking all sounds, but not yours. All you could hear was the beat of your heart, telling you never to stop.

Each second was enough time to burn down another one's story. However, this was the beginning of your tale.

When all you could see was crimson, when all you could hear was the echo of your heart and the clinking of bullet shells, light shone from behind. And you staggered forward, feeling a scorching heat from your stomach and chest, where blood oozed out which never seemed to come to an end—the sign of your freedom already stolen.

In a blink, gone.

After all, a story never begins with one who already has everything.

It was impossible to block out the stifled sobs of all the women around you, even if you had tried cupping your hands over your ears and closing your eyes.

Just like you, who had fought for your freedom, but to no avail, they were captured a week before. However, you couldn't bring yourself to cry. More than anything, you were tired . . . and mad.

You had been shot twice before your capture, and the bullets the Shadows used were laced with poison. Normally, that would only be used to neutralize monsters, but seeing how you murdered people just to escape, the leader must have realized you were more than what you appeared to be.

That, and the fact that only women can bring life to this godforsaken land, were the reason why men and monsters decided to make them their toys. But these women had long lost their will to live their life the way they wanted. The sparks in their eyes that were said to be the undisputed magic which always brings men to their knees, were now gone.

You couldn't exactly pity them when you were about to experience the same. In fact, you were already in the same state as they were: stripped naked for every goddamned eye to see.

Your name echoed in the corridor,  and one of the men, standing guard, dressed in all black, grabbed your arm. He pulled you up to your feet and whispered to your ears, “You better behave out there,” he tightened his grip as he dragged you. “Graves won't hesitate to put another bullet on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We all know I will fetch a great price. You wouldn't want to lose a large sum of money, don't you?”

“Threatening my Shadows again?” A silvery voice emerged from the darkness, taking the form of a man with slicked-back, blond hair, dressed in the finest suit you had ever put an eye on.

Phillip Graves was a monster—a bloodsucking leech in human clothing, leader of the monsters you had blasted a hole in when they rampaged your home, and the very one to make it even by shooting you and capturing you.

He flashed a small smile at you, condescending enough to make your blood boil. He took you from his subordinate, arm snaking around your waist, and pulling you close to him.

Your breasts planted on his chest, making it appear more ample, and on your stomach, you could feel something hard. A grimace appeared on your face and a shiver ran down your spine as his hands traveled from your waist down to your ass. His fingers slowly went south through the gap of your thighs. You loathed this feeling, the cold touch of his calloused fingers, his hard grip, and the strong scent of his cologne mixed with rust—with blood. But if you retaliated, he would break your bones, over and over again, knowing that you could heal faster than most.

And this sadist wouldn't hesitate to take your virginity himself before selling you to others, like a toy that he had already gotten tired of.

“You sure you don't want me to take you?” Phillip leaned down, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder. “I can delay your show and we can have some time.”

“No,” you grunted, turning your head to the side, eyeing his servants who watched the movements of Phillip’s hands running over your body.

A chuckle escaped his lips, inhaling your scent as his nose trailed to your temple. “A shame,” he whispered, his sharp fangs grazing your skin, fingers caressing your folds, already slightly soaked.

You bit your lip to hold back the noise threatening to escape from your lips.

He stepped away from you and watched you immediately try to cover yourself with your arms. But oh, you foolish little bird, he could still see every inch of you.

He would take you, sure, if that was what you wanted. But good sex was nothing to a good sum of money. He can buy or rent any woman he pleases, with the price he could get from you. Besides, there were acquaintances of his who wouldn't want a woman who had already been touched.

Plus points, you were educated.

Cons: you fucking know how to kill.

Wherever the fuck you learned to do that.

He brought his fingers to his lips, licking away your fluids that grazed his fingers. “Well, let's get going.” He smiled and took your wrist, like a misbehaving dog on a walk park now being dragged home.

His hand swiped the curtain open and you squinted your eyes, blinded by the overhead lights, until you finally adjusted to the brightness, which followed you and Graves as you climbed up the stairs of a platform. Shame brought your body to flame as every gaze shifted on your naked flesh, chatters that sounded like static echoed endlessly in your ears.

From there, all you desired was for everything to burn.

John Mactavish leaned forward from his seat, bright blue eyes raking upon every inch of your body, but what caught his attention was the condescending look on your eyes, which declared every man in your sight lower than vermins walking on this land. Then, your eyes settled on Mactavish as Phillip Graves began your brief introduction to all the monsters inside the auction, and seemingly to judge his entire existence, he felt himself wanting more of your attention, of whatever you speak. He felt the desire in your gaze, the hunger for eradication.

Oh, you would look glorious sitting on his lap, bouncing up and down on his dick as you please, until you suck him dry. John felt his dick hardening, brushing against the fabric of his pants. He turned on his seat, facing Jonathan Price, whom they considered the leader of their hoard, but before he could utter a word the same man spoke.

“I like this one,” Price declared, making the other two on the same table as them, shift their gazes at him. Price took a long drag from his cigar before he continued. “She reminds me of the time when women stood proud and confident. We barely see that kind of spark in the eyes of females anymore, and I’d like to bring that spark into nothing but a speck of ash.”

“You’re a sadist, Price,” a man in a skull mask remarked, voice low and gruff, snapping his head back as the bidding started, each time a monster spoke, the price got higher.

Price turned his head to the man, his eyes glowing gold like a flame imprisoned within. “Nothing shall burn brighter than my fire, Simon.” He pulled a smirk on his lips, sharp fangs glinting, and motioned at the other one among them, raising his hand. “Kyle, would you please?”

However, before Kyle could raise their designated number, Graves raised a hand, bringing silence to the room, and he began, “Most of you might think that she is just a human, but let me show you something that would assure that she was the most valuable one we have ever had in a hundred years.”

You snapped your neck at Phillip, frowning at his face until his fingernails became dark and sharp like the claws of a wild beast. With a swift movement, his nails dragged on your arm, making you wince in pain, and blood began to run down. Each plop of blood on the floor made monsters gulp and each centimeter of the wound closed made monsters rise from their feet.

Even Phillip Graves had a hard time resisting the sight of blood and forcing himself on you for the sake of money.

Who wouldn’t want a woman who can take this much damage? Who wouldn’t want a woman who would ensure their offspring would come out stronger?

Then, a booming laughter echoed across the sea of yells, surfacing among others. Just as you turned to see where it came from, a flash of yellow came into your sight, and you leaned back, your heart leaping to your throat when a man towered over you.

Not a man. A monster.

Devil's incarnate.

Sharp horns sprouted from his forehead. On his back, a pair of leathery wings unrolled and a thick, scaly tail slapped Graves away from you before he could complain. And with a single sniff, a huff which brought the smell of smoke up your nostrils, Price’s eyes flashed gold.

“We’re bringing you home.” He pushed his lips onto yours, scaly hands wrapping around your waist, sharp claws scraping your skin. You tried to push him off, but one of his hands grabbed your hand so tight you thought your bones would break.

You whimpered against his mouth, making him chuckle and bite down on your lower lip, his fang piercing through the fragile skin. You tasted blood on your tongue and so did he as you were heaved up, forced to wrap your legs around his waist. Your cunt brushed onto the harsh fabric of his pants and the growing tent between them.

You bit back a moan and pulled away. “Stop—” But his hand pulled you back into his fervent, disgusting kiss. He left his marks on the expanse of your collarbone, then down to the valley of your breasts, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he reached on your head, pulling on your tresses.

It made you turn your head and you watched three other men get on the platform as well—one who appeared to be the most normal-looking among them, giving two cases of money to Graves, who didn’t seem much pleased after he was shoved off stage.

And before this very crowd, you were brought back the curtains and to God knows where.

May we all have seats reserved in hell already.

Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own / DISCORD SERVER

Comment if you want to be on the taglist

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 12

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

I'll keep the warnings, even though there is no outright mention in this part: Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Accidental Baby Procurement

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

"You need to tell Rhys," Cassian told them seriously.

It was the last thing Zahra wanted to do. Only closely followed by talking to her sisters.

"You do it," she said, more of a jest than an actual request. But gods knew, her guts were actually twisting themselves in knots at the thought.

Cassian just shrugged. "I'll do it," he said drily.

"No, I'll do it," Azriel disagreed. "You are my mate and Azalea is our daughter."

Zahra swallowed at that claim in his voice.

Our daughter. It sounded as natural on his lips as breathing, sending a bolt of something through her that she didn't know how to define.

"I hate you," she said half-heartily and Azriel chuckled quietly, pulling her against his side.

"No, you don't," Azriel said and the cheeky note in his voice and the smirk on his lips had her heart flutter all over again.

The shadows seemed almost restless, twisting around his shoulders and fingers, curling around her hair…Their baby girl stirred a little, from napping in her arms, and Azriel's arm around her waist tightened almost...almost instinctively.

"We can't keep hiding you two away at Rosehall forever," Azriel said softly as he pressed a kiss against her hair. Zahra swallowed.

"Not that I'll protest," Esmeray said brightly. "You'll always be welcome here."

And Zahra loved Rosehall. She loved Esmeray. She loved it here...but there was a part of her that stupidly ached for her little cottage, for bringing Azalea there and making it a home for the three of them. It wasn't a grand house but it would be theirs and somehow that would be worth more to Zahra than anything else.

Home. The word send a pang through her.

Gods, she wanted nothing more than to make the cottage a home for their family. She wanted to move there and to forget about everything else.

Except…There was no forgetting the rest of her life or her family.

Azriel's arm tightened around her waist when she sagged against him, almost as if he knew what she was thinking, as if he was anticipating her thoughts and reactions.

She swallowed. No. There was no way around it. And she knew it.

Her gaze shifted to the baby in her arms. Azalea. Their baby girl.

She tried to shake off the sense of protectiveness that was taking hold, a feeling so...so foreign to her and...powerful and frightening all at the same time.

She...she wasn't a mother, she didn't know how to do this...

Azriel's free hand came up to her chin, tilting her face until she was looking at him.

He didn't say a word, just looked at her like he could see the panic and uncertainty that was clawing at her, wrapping itself around her insides until she was gasping for breath.

"Don't worry," he said quietly, firmly, his hand still cradling her chin, his eyes never leaving hers as if he was making her focus on him and his words. "We'll do this together."

"Rhys is going to kill us both," she told Azriel weakly. Cassian just snorted.

"He's not," Cassian disagreed. "Why are you always so pessimistic?"

Zahra just stared at him. Why indeed. "Because experience has taught me to expect the worst of things," she snapped back.

Cassian had the grace to wince.

Azriel's hand left her chin to twirl a piece of her hair around his fingers, almost...almost absentmindedly, as if he wasn't even aware of doing so. His arm was still wrapped around her waist, his fingers lazily tracing circles into her hip.

"You have a secret weapon though," Cassian said brightly.

"And what is my secret weapon?" she drawled back in disbelief.

Cassian pointed at Azalea. "That," he said like it was a perfectly logical and obvious explanation.

Zahra just stared at him. 

Cassian gave her a look. "She will make him go all soft and emotional," he said, clearly finding the idea somewhat amusing.

"He's going to turn to mush," Cassian promised her. "Ever since Feyre and him had Nyx, Babies make him go all soft and gooey," Cassian added. "And sappy," he said after a moment and she couldn't hold back a snort. "First rule of war, use every weapon in your arsenal," Cassian said seriously. "And who could possible resist you," he cooed at Azalea, who was blinking at him sleepily, waking up and cuddling into Zahra. “Not the big bad High Lord of the Night Court, not him.”

Azalea's eyes were wide as she stared at Cassian, like she couldn't quite believe there was another person fawning over her.

Zahra rolled her eyes at Cassian. "You are ridiculous," she said unimpressed by his antics.

"He's right," Azriel agreed though, much to her surprise.

"Of course I'm right," Cassian said in a cocky voice, too distracted by Azalea to truly notice who had agreed with him.

Zahra just huffed in annoyance,  as she watched Azalea grab a hold of one of Cassian's fingers, pulling it close. It was...cute, she had to admit that much.

Cassian...he was a big strong warrior. He could be gruff and rude and grumpy and a downright ass most of the time. And now...now a tiny baby maybe half the size of his biceps had him wrapped around her little tiny fingers.

Azalea giggled when she tugged at another one of his fingers, her tiny fist clenching around it, and Cassian's expression softened.

"Besides, I am there too," Cassian cooed at her. "Yes, I will be. Rhysie can't possible find fault with you, can he? No, he can't."

Azalea didn't seem to mind the baby voice Cassian was using. If anything, she seemed to be delighted by it, almost trying to pull the finger into her mouth to gnaw on it.

Zahra almost, almost snorted in amusement.

"I would be careful, " Azriel warned, "She has a tendency to bite." Cassian actually drew hand back in horror.

"Don't be a coward," Zahra said dryly and now she did chuckle quietly as Cassian sent her a glare, a look of...almost betrayal in his eyes.

"Are you telling me I should let her take a chunk out of me?" he asked, offended.

"If you want her to love you, you should," Azriel said drily, and Zahra snorted.

That just earned Azriel another glare. "That...I...she..." Cassian spluttered, then looked at Azalea, who was still looking up at him wide-eyed, as if almost waiting for him to offer his finger back.

Zahra bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Your parents have a horrible sense of humour," he told Azalea drily.

Azalea just reached out a tiny hand for him again, her fingers opening and closing in a grabbing motion...and of course Cassian caved instantly, giving her his finger to hold again.

He was whipped. Completely and utterly whipped.

Zahra just pressed a kiss against her daughter's hair.

"How do you want to do it?" She asked Azriel softly. How did he want to deal with Rhys?

Azriel was quiet for a moment, the shadows curling tightly around his shoulders as he thought. Then he let out a sigh, his grip around her waist tightening a fraction. "The sooner we do it, the better," he said grimly. "We'll do it tonight."

"We'll do it now," Cassian corrected. "I'll ask him to come here and he will. We'll have a talk with him outside. And only if he manages to keep his temper...we'll let him anywhere near you," Cassian promised her.

"You don't need to do this," Azriel said, his voice tight.

"Yes, I do," Cassian disagreed. "Besides, if there are sides, I am picking the one with the cute baby!”

That did little to calm Zahra, even as she pressed another kiss to Azalea’s curls. 

“I am still there too,” Esmeray said drily from the kitchen. “I can be pretty fierce!”

***

To say that Amren had her own opinions about everything that had gone down while she hadn’t been there...well, that was an understatement.

Rhysand had heard about her opinion in great and graphic detail as she had stalked through his house towards his office.

Now Amren stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows, her arms crossed over her chest as she glowered at him, looking very much ready to punch him in the face.

And he didn't doubt she probably would.

Rhys just leaned back in his chair and waited as she kept up the silent treatment. He knew she would explode eventually.

"You're angry," he said flatly. It was a statement, not a question.

"You are leaving the Night Court vulnerable," Amren spat.

He almost winced at the venom in her voice. "How so?" he asked, trying not to sound defensive, trying to keep his own annoyance in check.

Amren sent him a look. She knew he knew what she was talking about. "Your spymaster is gone," she pointed out, her voice sharp and angry as she finally whirled on him. "Your General and his mate aren't even on talking terms at the moment. Your wife and her sisters are having a fight that has the potential to result in a civil war."

"It's not a fight," Rhys said with a sigh. It wasn't. Not truly. 

And it wasn’t going to end in civil war…probably. 

"It's close enough to one," Amren snapped and there was no denying that. "So how are you going to fix this?" she demanded.

There wasn't anything he could fix. How was he supposed to fix this? How was he supposed to...

He could never take away what happened to Zahra. He could never fix the scars that she would carry from it for the rest of her days...scars that maybe weren't visible to the naked eye but there non the less.

"I don't know," Rhys admitted, the words almost getting stuck in his throat.

The most powerful High Lord in the History of Prythian…and yet when it came right down to it...absolutely powerless for this. 

He didn't know.

The muscles in his jaw twitched as he swallowed, trying to get a hold on himself. On his thoughts. On his emotions.

It had brought up memories that Rhys himself would rather forgot. Things that he never wanted to happen even to his worst enemy, that had happened to him…

Amren had left in a snit after that, and quite frankly he didn't fault her. 

Right now it felt like their family was fracturing down to the center in multiple different directions.

And Rhys himself hadn’t been helping things either.  Azriel’s harsh words had made that very clear to him. 

Had made it painstakingly clear what they had done to Zahra, how they had treated her…and while Azriel hadn’t put it into so many words…his dark eyes had been accusing and harsh and…and the guilt had been gnawing at Rhys ever since then. 

Zahra hadn’t been the only one who had been treated horribly by their family. 

Azriel had been treated no better. 

Absolutlely no fucking better and it wasn’t…

Rhys couldn’t fault Azriel one bit for taking his mate and getting them both away from surroundings that had grown the worst sort of toxic for them.

They could be lucky that that was all Azriel had done. That Azriel had only told them all off for their behaviour towards Zahra…that he hadn’t just grasped his mate and took her somewhere else entirely. 

He could. Rhys didn’t doubt for one moment that if Azriel wanted to disappear and take Zahra with him…he could. And they would never see them again. 

It was a fucking miracle that Azriel hadn’t let the mating instincts get the best of him and went out for retribution…hadn’t slaughtered his way to the Human Lands. 

At this point Rhys could hardly have blamed Azriel if he had.

His hands clenched on the armrest.

Hell, Rhys himself wanted retribution. Wanted justice for a 15 year old girl that had only tried to keep her little sister safe. 

He wanted to slaughter the man that had dared to put his hands on Zahra.

He knew he wasn't the only one. He knew that once Feyre got over herself enough...once she understood and accepted that right now, Zahra didn't want to see her... that would be next on her list as well.

It was strange almost, the anger, the frustration that coursed through him. He was so unused to feeling it towards Feyre that there was almost a part of him that wondered how he should handle it. What could he even do?

The sharp mental tug that told him that one of his brothers wanted to talk to him broke him out of his thoughts.

Cassian? Where are you? he demanded immediately.

Rosehall, Cassian's response came. There was a slight edge to it, something sharp and almost...defiant. Come to me. We need to have a chat.

Rosehall? Cassian was in fucking Rosehall?! 

I thought we agreed to give Azriel some time to cool off, Rhys snapped right back. It was the least he owed his brother.

There are some...extenuating circumstances, Cassian said softly.

Extenuating circumstances. The words had Rhys straightening, his whole body going tense.

What kind of extenuating circumstances? he demanded.

The kind you need to see for yourself.

Rhys growled, the sound low and deep. You had better have a damn good reason for this, brother.

A very good reason to go against Rhysand’s order. 

I do, came the terse answer. Just get over here. Now.

It was the sound of absolute certainty in his brother's voice that had him doing as he demanded.

He was going to Rosehall and he was going to figure out what was the hell was going on.

It took him only a few seconds to winnow there.

He almost stumbled when he landed on the gravel path, his wings flaring out behind him. Rhys took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, tried to get himself under control again.

Then he turned and...froze.

He had expected Cassian waiting for him. He had not expected Azriel being there too.

There was something about Azriel’s body language that screamed tension. It was in the set of his shoulders, in the way he stood, in the way he carried himself.

But he was there.

He was willing to see him.

And he wasn’t wearing his fighting leathers, even when two siphons were sparking dully on his hands. 

It was more than what Rhys deserved.

His gaze slid over to Cassian, who was casually leaning against the house, almost as if he didn't have a care in the world.

That was a stark difference from Azriel.

But Rhys didn't take that obvious casualty for meaning that everything was well, for one moment. Cassian was good at diffusing tension.

"Azriel," he said, his voice weaker than he wanted.

"Rhysand." 

Azriel didn't seem to be in a forgiving sort of mood. Not that Rhys could fault him for that. The use of his name, the way it sounded almost cold from Azriel’s lips, was like a slap in the face.

Rhys flinched back, the muscle in his jaw clenching as he forced himself to hold Azriel’s gaze.

He wouldn't look away.

Even in the dim light of the evening, Rhys could make out the shadows curling tightly around Azriel. They were agitated, restless, snapping at empty space as they twisted around Azriel's limbs, as if preparing to strike.

"I..." The word felt lodged in Rhys’ throat, like he was trying to cough up something that had got stuck there. Azriel just raised an eyebrow at him.

Cassian pushed himself of the wall, his hands slipping into the pockets of his trousers as he sauntered forward.

"How...how is Zahra?" Rhys asked finally, forcing the words past the lump in his throat.

"She's doing well," Azriel answered, his voice cool.

It was something. It was more than he deserved. "I am sorry," Rhys blurted out.

The apology made the shadows around Azriel flicker, something almost akin to surprise flickering across his brothers face.

It was the first sign of something other than anger he had seen so far and he took it as a good sign.

"You should be," was all Azriel said.

"I know," Rhys said quietly. "I..." He paused again, drawing in a shuddering breath. "I am sorry," he repeated. "Not just for Zahra. We fucked up. I know that," he told Azriel seriously. "But I am sorry for how I behaved with you, too."

He had expected that Azriel would say something at that. He expected a cold reply, some snarky comment, or a scathing dismissal.

What he did not expect was a small nod. It was a small gesture, almost too small to be seen, but it was there. And it was progress.

Rhys let out a breath that he hadn't even realised he had been holding, his body relaxing.

It...it was a start.

His eyes darted over to Cassian, who was watching them with a carefully neutral expression on his face. A sharp contrast to his usual demeanour.

"It's a start," Cassian said after a moment, almost as if he had read Rhys' mind. Then he jerked his chin as if to say keep going.

Rhys turned back to Azriel and raised his chin almost like he was offering himself up, forcing himself to meet his brothers eyes again. And there was still so much anger in them, a sort of cold fury that was different than the hot anger Rhys was used to. It was the anger of someone who knew that they were right.

"But please," he said, a pleading note to his voice now that he hadn't even tried to hide. "Please, let me at least...let me try and make it up to her, to both of you."

There was a tense pause, Azriel just staring at him, still looking rather cold and distant. Rhys almost held his breath, waiting for his brothers response.

"There is something you need to know," Azriel said.

Rhys let out a breath of relief when his brother finally spoke, his shoulders loosing some of the tension.

“Alright,” he said, bracing himself for whatever it was that Azriel was about to say.

"The shadows kidnapped a baby." 

Those words didn't seem to sink in at first. Rhys just stared at his brother in disbelief.

"...I'm sorry, say that again?" he asked, his voice sounding almost strangled.

"The shadows abducted a baby," Azriel said again, slower, enunciating each word slowly.

The words sounded just as strange the second time. Rhys just stared a Azriel, trying to process...to figure out what the hell his brother was trying to say.

"A baby. A Baby?" Rhys asked. "Where did they find it?"

Azriel's body seemed to grow even more tense, if that was even possible.

He glanced at Cassian, some unidentifiable communication passing between them. Rhys' eyes flicker between them, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"She, not it." Azriel finally snapped. "She's Illyrian. And the shadows found her in my father's dungeon."

Rhys' brain stalled on the word dungeon. It took several seconds to process it, to understand what Azriel just said.

Then his whole body went cold, a horrified look on his face.

"You don't mean..." he said, his voice a mere whisper. "She's Ruben's daughter," he realised.

Azriel's half brother. The one behind the scars that covered his brother's hands.

Azriel just gave a terse nod, his lips thinning into a tight line. The muscles in his jaw were clenching again, his hands curled into fists at his side.

It wasn't hard to figure out where the anger was coming from. A child. A baby, who had been locked up in a dungeon.It was the type of knowledge that made his stomach curdle, that made the rage start to build. But he forced it down, forced himself to keep it in check.

"How did the shadows find her?" he asked finally when he was sure he could trust his voice.

"Zahra asked them to keep an eye on Ruben," Azriel answered evenly. "Then they found out that he kept his bastard daughter locked away in the dungeon. The wards were corrupted. So they just…took her and brought her here."

"And...the...the mother?" Rhys asked, almost afraid to hear the answer to that question.

"Dead in childbirth."

Rhys winced a the words, his stomach clenching. An orphan then, her mother having died in childbirth. That poor little girl...

"Do we know her name?" he asked quietly, almost dreading the answer.

Azriel's face went blank, his voice utterly lacking in any sort of emotion. "She didn't have one."

The thought made something in Rhys' chest tighten, a cold fury starting to run through his veins.

He was fairly certain that if Ruben was standing in front of him right now, he would have tried to rip out his throat out without a second thought.

"How long had she been down there?" he asked, knowing the answer would make things even worse.

"According to the shadows? All her life," Azriel said bitterly. His eyes were cold, his lips pressed tightly together.

"All her life," Rhys repeated, the words echoing in his head.

All her life.

Ruben had...Rhys had known a lot of horrific people in his life, had met a lot of monsters. But...that. He let out a breath, his hand coming up to scrub at his face.

"How old...how old is she..?" he said quietly.

"Six months," Azriel said, his voice flat. There was no inflection to it. No expression in his eyes.

Six months... A six-month-old baby. Locked up in a dungeon all her life...

It was a horrifying picture in his mind, one he was unable to get rid of.

He couldn’t help but see Nyx. Nyx. Nyx down in a dungeon. All on his own. 

He didn't want to think about what that must have been like for her... The sound she must have made in that isolated silence that had surrounded her. 

"I am not taking her back there," Azriel said, his voice diamond hard and fierce. "She'll stay with me and Zahra."

Rhys didn't even think to protest at his brothers words.

How could he? How could anyone look at this situation and expect the poor girl to go back to the man who had locked her up for her whole life?

"Is that what Zahra wants?" Rhys asked finally.

Azriel's eyes darkened, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

"It's what we want," he spat out, his words almost a growl. "Azalea is our daughter."

The fierce protectiveness bled from every single word. Rhys didn’t think for one moment that Azriel didn’t love her like she was his own flesh and blood. 

There was no doubting Azriel's conviction.

Azriel was deadly serious, and he would protect the girl he had claimed as his daughter with his dying breath.

Like a mother bear defended her cub. 

Rhys’ expression softened slightly, his shoulders releasing a bit of the tension. "I wouldn't expect anything else," Rhys said quietly."Azalea, you said?" He asked carefully.

"Yes," Azriel said, his eyes still glaring coldly. There was a hint of defensiveness in that word, a hint of caution, as if he was just waiting for Rhys to object against the name.

"It's a beautiful name," Rhys said finally, his voice softening even more. He could see the hint of surprise in Azriel's eyes at his words.

"You can see her," Azriel said suddenly, "If you want," he added, the words seeming almost reluctant.

Rhys blinked a bit, a flicker of surprise running through him. He wasn't sure if he had heard his brother correctly.

"You...you're letting me see her?" he asked slowly.

Azriel just gave a brisk nod, his body still tense. Cassian's eyes shot up in surprise, a look of absolute astonishment on his face. Then he turned to Rhys, his eyebrows raised, Don't you dare mess this up, Cassian warned him mentally. 

"I would like that," Rhys finally said finally, his voice slightly shaky.

Azriel studied him for a few moments, scrutinising him like a hawk. Then he gave a slow nod, his eyes not leaving Rhys for a second. "But if you do anything, and I mean anything to upset them,” Azriel said, taking a menacing step forward. 

Rhys could feel the threat hanging in the air, the promise of violence if he messed this up. His blood ran cold, his instincts telling him to step away from his brother.But he didn’t.

He met Azriel's glare head on, his chin raised in a silent challenge.

"I won’t," he said quietly. "I swear I won’t."

For a moment, Rhys thought that his brother wasn't going to believe him, was going to send him away again. Then Azriel nodded, the tension in his shoulders loosing a bit.

"Then come," Azriel said, jerking his chin towards the house.

Rosehall was warm and welcoming, and he could hear Esmeray's voice chattering softly as he stepped into the living room. Azriel’s mother was sitting in an armchair knitting. And then he saw Zarah.

Looking healthier than Rhys had seen her in months, her face having filled out some, dark brown hair in a messy braid over her shoulder...and curled around that braid were the tiny fist of the baby on her lap that she was currently offering porridge too.

The sight of her made his breath catch in his throat. She looked so...so unbelievably healthy. Happy even. Motherhood was agreeing with her.

His eyes lingered on the baby girl for a moment.

She was tiny. So tiny. A far cry from Nyx at that age…Pale with fluttering wings… Azalea looked almost fragile in her mother's arms, her small face scrunching up excitedly as she chomped down on the spoon. Rhys didn't think he had ever seen anything so sweet.

And then Zarah looked up and her expression shuttered.

Rhys could see the expression shifting on her face, the look of joy and contentment disappearing, replaced by something more guarded.

Rhys felt something sharp twisting in his stomach. THis was his fault.

Her eyes moved away from him, her body shifting to shield the baby somewhat from view. Rhys felt a pang at the action, the movement clearly protective and defensive. She was shielding the baby...from him.

Rhys’ heart ached with the thought, the feeling of guilt welling up in his chest. He deserved that. He knew he did. And yet...it still stung.

He forced a smile on his face, trying to make it seem as sincere as possible. “I’m happy for you,” he said, his voice soft. “You look well.”

The words seemed to have no effect on her, her expression remaining closed off and guarded. There was a hint of anger in the look she gave him before she turned her attention back to Azalea

The child squirmed in her arms, her little hands reaching out towards the spoon. Zarah just shifted her, rearranging the baby's position and offering her another spoonful that was hungrily eaten. 

Rhys couldn't take his eyes away from the sight. From the way Zarah carefully wiped a splotch of porridge off the baby’s cheek, how her expression had softened again while looking at Azalea..

And the baby...she was staring at him. Wide green hazel eyes...She could have passed as Azriel's twin. She was...so tiny. So fragile...yet she was looking at him with far more trust than he deserved.

He took a step forward before he could stop himself.

A sudden golden shield snapped up, surrounding Zarah and Azalea. 

The warning was perfectly clear: Stay away. He swallowed.

Rhys could nearly taste the magic, as Zahra fixed him with green eyes.

"If you ever treat him Azriel like that again, you'll have me to contend with. Is that clear?" Zahra asked him, her voice cuttingly sharp. "They are mine."

There was no fucking question what exactly she meant and he only inclined his head, staring at the golden shield that currently protected them. 

 He could see the magic pulsating faintly, the energy it exuded. She was...serious. That shield was strong.

He had never seen anything like that in his life. It seemed like the 3rd Archeron Sister that had been thrown into the Cauldron had come out of it with some kind of gift after all. 

He swallowed again, his gaze flickering from the shield to the baby.

"I understand," Rhys said quietly, his eyes not leaving hers.

Azalea was still looking at him, her little hands gripping at her mothers shirt.

Those bright hazel eyes were fixed on him, seemingly studying him, examining him curiously. There was no fear in her gaze, no uncertainty. Just simple curiosity.

She made a small noise as she looked at him, her tiny hand grasping at the shield, Zahra had wrapped around both of them.

"She's beautiful," Rhys said softly. "She is lucky to have you."

"No," Zahra disagreed fiercely. "We are lucky to have her."

Rhys' breath caught for a moment at the words. There was so much conviction in them. So much certainty. And...he didn't doubt her words for a second.

That baby girl...the look in Zahra's eyes, the protectiveness and the fierce love in her voice.

"I am sorry," he apologise softly.

Zahra's body didn't relax, her face still closed off and her eyes still wary. But she gave a slow nod, the corners of her mouth flickering into a slight frown for a moment.

The tension in the room was thick. So thick you could cut it with a knife.

Rhys found his eyes drifting back to the baby… And this time, Zahra loosened the shield so he could look at the girl more closely.

It went down with a shimmer of magic.

Just enough that Azriel moved to sit beside them on the couch...to take the bowl of porridge from Zahra and continue feeding his daughter who looked at him adoringly, gurgling happily.

Rhys could feel his heart clench at the sight. His brother was cooing at the small girl, a small smile on his face as he lifted the spoon to the baby's mouth.

She accepted it eagerly, chomping and giggling happily. 

Azriel's face...he was utterly enthralled, a look of wonder on his face as he watched the small girl. There was something...soft in his expression. Genuine joy at getting to feed the baby.

Rhys couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Azriel look so at ease. 

His brother was happy. There was no question about it. 

[whimsyvixen]

Hi! I just read your Rusty Nail fic, and I was wondering if you have SFW and/or NSFW head cannons for him? I love your writing and hope you're doing well :)

A/N: ~I'd like to apologize for waiting two years to answer this ask 😭. I've been watching slasher movies again and my motivation was brought back so I decided to have fun with writing this! Once again, I'm very sorry for the late reply but I hope you and every one else enjoys this! 🫶~

~

NSFW Alphabet | Rusty Nail | Joy Ride

Pairing: Rusty Nail x Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis/Excerpt: He also loves how easily you bruise, a smug grin forming in his face when he sees his marks of ownership scattered all over you.

Tags/Warnings: explicit content, dubcon/non-con themes, unprotected sex, choking, creampies, brief mention of captivity/kidnapping, overstimulation, large cock, vaginal sex, Rusty being sweet and a monster at the same time.

Minors do not interact

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's very affectionate, peppering kisses along your flushed face and caressing the dips and curves of your body as you're fighting to catch a breath after his vigorous fucking love making.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His hands are his favorite instrument, large enough to wrap around your throat and squeeze until his veins protrude from the force. He loves every dip and curve of your body, not knowing where to start because of how obsessed he is with your fragility and softness. He also loves how easily you bruise, a smug grin forming in his face when he sees his marks of ownership scattered all over you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He's a big man with an equally big set of balls and dick. When he cums, it's in copious amounts and he always makes sure to come inside, ignoring your distressed cries and your hands pushing against him when you feel the sudden heat in your spasming walls. He licks your tears away, grinding his hips further into your puffy pussy to make sure none of his cum escapes your womb.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He read books by Nicholas Sparks and liked them. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's very experienced. He prioritizes your pleasure over his because he loves seeing you come apart under his ministrations. Once you're twitching from the neverending pleasure, does he spread you wide and spears you with his cock in one smooth thrust. He listens very intently at every little gasp and moan escaping your lips so he can discover the rhythm and technique your most vocal on.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His favorite position is cowgirl. He loves seeing how shy and nervous you get when you're hovering over him, licking his lips in anticipation when your pussy presses down on his engorged cock. He lets you go at your own pace, fighting the urge to thrust his hips up as you're slowly taking him inch by inch until your pelvises smack lewdly against each other. It is when your legs grow tired and your movement goes sluggish, that he takes charge and brings you down to clash with every upward thrust into your welcoming pussy. His eyes roam greedily between your sexes smashing violently together and your fucked out expression every time his cock kisses your cervix.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He enjoys teasing you, especially knowing how flustered you get when he whispers dirty things to you. Lacking any sexual experience prior to him, your face quickly gets heated and you can’t look him in the eye when he’s promising to drown in your pussy and fuck you until the bed breaks. If he's feeling humorous, he might start to tickle you to get you to smile and shriek to make you forget your embarrassment at his words.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's a hairy man. His hair grows rather quickly so he needs to shave often, but he prefers to trim instead of shaving anything off fully. The hairs on his chest often tickle your nose when you're laying on him and the raspiness of his beard leaves a pleasant tingle behind on your skin when he kisses your cheeks. You have to look away when he stretches, his happy trail bringing memories of how deep you’ve had him in your throat, your nose pressed right against his pubic hair and smelling his manly musk before he proceeded to face fuck you to oblivion.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He wasn't always kind to you. Your refusal to accept your place as his beloved had forced him to be the bad guy early on in your relationship. However, after months of secluding you from any form of contact besides his, you've become dependent on him and jump into his arms when he releases you from your prison in the basement. As he's stroking your back and hugging your hiccupping form, he hushes your whimpers with sweet murmurs of never leaving you like the people that abandoned their search for you long ago. When he’s making love to you upstairs in his bedroom, he confesses his feelings for you and worships every inch of you with his mouth and hands. He will make sure you would be protected and loved by him and him alone. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He tries not to think about you while on the road because of how easily just the thought of you makes him hard under his pants. When explicit memories of you won’t leave him, he grumbles in frustration and tries to find somewhere secluded to rub one out. Once he’s parked his vehicle, he opens his glove compartment to find the piece of cloth he tore from you earlier that day. He then pleasures himself while sniffing the remnants of your cum soaked panties, shuddering at the musky scent and envisioning your pussy wrapped around him and your mouth begging him for more. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

The man has a breeding and lactation kink. He often places a pillow under you so his cum can stay in place inside your unprotected womb and sucks on your nipples to the point of pain imagining you plump with his baby and leaking milk into his mouth. 

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

He'll have sex with you just about anywhere. He particularly enjoys doing it in his truck, reclining his seat back to watch you bounce up and down on his fat cock in the middle of nowhere, dirty praises trickling past his lips about how much of a pretty slut you are for him and how good he'll give it to you later at home. He loves having you for dessert when he gets home from work (and killing) too, kneeling under the table in the kitchen to eat you out as you're struggling to eat the food you cooked for him while he gnaws at your clit and folds.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

It's your skittish behavior and the way you bite your lip when he's near you that drives him crazy. Despite your stubbornness not to give in to his lecherous hands, he has you bent over before you can voice out a protest. He runs his fingers lightly along your trembling legs, eyeing the way your soaked panties cling to your vulva and asking what you want him to do to you. If you stay silent for too long, he’ll lean down and threaten to leave you as you are, pressing his hardened cock between your cheeks all the while. Just as he’s about to pull away, you push your hips back and look at him pleadingly. You’re still too shy to tell him what you want so you’ll open your legs wider hoping he catches your drift. He’d want to tease you further but even he has a limit. Your panties are torn off and the clink of a belt is heard right before the room is filled with wet smacks of flesh and breathless cries and grunts echoing throughout the house. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never share you. He'd kill any man or woman who dared touch what was his. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Over the years, he entertained himself with a few lot lizards and learned how to perfect his technique with each encounter. By the time he met you, he knew exactly where to kiss, lick and suck to have you creaming in his mouth within minutes. He's never tasted a pussy as good as yours and will often eat you out for long periods of time, ignoring the way you're tugging on his hair to try to remove him from your overstimulated clit and quivering walls.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on how well behaved you are, he can make it slow and sweet for you. He prefers his sex fast and rough, but will be gentle when your sex is sore from the poundings he gave it. However, his gentleness goes out the window when you start acting rebellious again. If you disobey him and try running away, he will catch you and  fuck you in a rage until your crying and begging for forgiveness. He'll fuck you like a bull all night until you pass out from exhaustion. You'll wake up alone and locked inside the basement again, what little freedom you had earned gone in an instant.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He's not a particular fan of quickies because he likes to take his time with you. He enjoys seeing how your will chips away with every stroke of his hands, mouth, and cock, your body fighting against your mind to reach its climax and forcing you to cry out for him after the pleasure becomes too much for you. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Considering how creative he is when torturing his victims, you can bet he’s just as creative in the bedroom. He's a bit of a sadist and will be curious to find out what your limits and pain tolerance is. He smiles at you when you freeze at the rope and chains he has in his hands. You’ll cry out when he handles you none-too-gently, having little time to protect yourself when he wraps a hand around your throat and forces the other down your panties. He’ll tighten his hold on your neck, wheezes and choked gasps escaping you as your eyes beseech him for mercy. In the midst of this punishment, you are horrified to feel your arousal spike, strands of your slick running down your legs as he fingerfucks you roughly. Once he finds out how much you can take, he will subject you to the same painful pleasure at a later date.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s only human and has to suffer through a refractory period so he makes sure you cum multiple times before he does. He is able to accomplish this by pumping his fingers inside your pussy, stimulating your g spot while he is forcing his tongue down your throat to muffle your mewls. He’ll have you cumming on his fingers within minutes, allowing you to witness him licking the residue of your orgasm before trailing his body down to the juncture of your thighs. He’ll bury his face in your cunt, holding you in place with one hand on your stomach and stroking himself with the other. Once he’s successfully made you cum again, does he line himself up along your soaked entrance. It is a challenge not to cum once his cock is enveloped by your heat, your walls constricting like a vice around him and making him grit his teeth to prevent himself from spilling inside you too soon. He’ll pump his hips slowly at first, trying to adjust to your gummy insides and closing his eyes in concentration. His careful pace gets shot down to hell when your heels brace on the bed, tilting your hips up and colliding with his next downward thrust. He opens his eyes startled, taking one good look at your disheveled appearance and your chest heaving in a tantalizing fashion before he grabs on to the headboard and slams his hips down in one meaty smack. Within a few moments, you orgasm two more times and your head is lolling to the side by the time he fills you with his cum.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

While he does use restraints on you, he does not own any toys. He's aware of their existence but has never really thought of using them on you. He's confident in his ability to bring you pleasure by his touch alone. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

As was said before, he enjoys teasing you due to your inexperience with sex. His sexual innuendos and jokes make you fidget and squirm where you’re at. No matter how often he’s fucked you, he can never seem to rid you of your embarrassment when you’re both naked and touching each other intimately. It amuses him how cute you are, removing his shirt purposely in front of you before tackling you down playfully on the bed to begin teasing you further.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He'll grit his teeth to lessen his gasps and groans, preferring to hear the sweet symphony of your pleasured cries and moans instead. He'll hide his face on your neck, bracing his knees on the bed before pummeling you hard enough to make the bed creak and your voice rise with each snap of his hips. Heated puffs and throaty moans would spill from him once your walls constricted around him and coaxed him to cum inside your warm heat. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

It was a passing conversation he heard between truckers on the cb radio while he was driving. One of them mentioned how he and his lady kept their sex life interesting and alive for so many years. They did this by role-playing and wearing salacious outfits to spice up the sex. Rusty listened on to the conversation, his mind conjuring up images of you dressing up as a scantily clad nurse or maid, waiting to treat him and service him in any way he desired. It was another trucker’s similar experience but with pet play that had him stunned. A flux of images of you on your knees in cow print lingerie and a collar around your neck stormed his brain, triggering his lactation kink and imagining you whining about the fullness of your chest and needing his help to ease the hurt. That night, he didn’t give you a chance to welcome him home. He ripped your clothes off in a frenzy, paying special attention to your tits while you let out confused moans not knowing what’s gotten into him. He fucked you especially hard, your sweaty bodies colliding violently as his silent determination to get you pregnant echoed like a mantra in his head. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Being well over 6 feet tall, the dick must match the man. The first time you saw it in its entirety, you had quickly slammed your legs shut out of fear. Now you knew why you were always so sore. His cock bobbed out in the open, the weight of it nearly dragging it down as he walked purposefully towards you on the bed. It took very little effort to spread your legs, slapping your hands away when you tried to hide your sex from him. A gasp left you when the heavy weight of his cock slapped on your pubic mound, the length of it reaching your belly button as you lay frozen in place. You could feel it throbbing angrily along your soft belly, your pussy twitching like crazy as you imagined it splitting you open.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive nearly kills you. He's always ready to go and he is not ashamed to grind his erection against your ass so you can feel how much he wants you. Even after he cums, he will continue to play with your body, ensuring you’re always ready for him once he gets hard again. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once he is completely spent, he's a heavy sleeper. It's hard to get out of his arms when the brute barely feels you squirming and continues to snore softly above your head. You have to bite him to get him to wake up.

A/N: Believe it or not, writing this killed me. Next time I make one of these, I'm only doing certain letters of the alphabet, not the whole thing 💀. Anyways, I hope you guys really enjoyed this! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated 🫶!

Aand I've got a nice treat for my followers to go with this writing~🖤

🔞Full NSFW image here🔞--> <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

[axetivev]

— Summary: In a very sad Monday (at least, that was your perspective), you and Wu Xiangli, a new member. Had a role of assassinating a corrupt commander who was in a party for "high class", fortunately for Xiaoling, he was the one who executed the killing. Unfortunately for you, you were the bait.

— Warnings/Tags: Crossdressing (reader wears a maid outfit), Mentions of blood, Violence, Age gap [ Xiangli is two years younger ], Non-con touching, Asshole commander, Feminization (?), Gruesome scenes, Handjob, Fingering. Getting caught.

— Words: 4.3k

— A/N: yeah.... small info, if you read my violist reader drabble. i must apologize that my fics took longer to be uploaded. i've been sick for the past few days, and work also made it worse. fear not, i'm writing the fic after i finished this ! i'm not critically sick. i'm always available if you want to talk with me. that's all, I hope you enjoyed this fic !!

— Pairing: Oc!Wu Xiangli x Male!Reader

— translate ! : 哥哥 = Brother (this can be used for non family members)

BEFORE YOU READ WHATEVER THIS IS. PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THIS FIC INCLUDES GORE. YOU HAD BEEN WARNED.

If you could be honest, never in your life you imagine yourself working to be a assassin.

Your work was mostly dealt with murder (obviously), working by violence, having to work with dangerous people, and the possibility that you were a victim of assassination itself. Yes—thought, the pay was high. Is it worth it? For you, unfortunately. It’s a yes. Even though the chances of you getting killed was high, you found yourself having a lot of friends working for at least that you recall, four years experience.

You’ve work for this organization, Paxxy Internationals. Sometimes, you’d laugh to yourself because the name was a bit childish the name was—but that same organization what brings you here. Paxxy’s base was relatively close to your apartment, actually. It’s a convenient store. The workers were also your co-workers, you sometimes question yourself; how can people didn’t know? It’s somewhat weird for a convenient store that’s normal 24/7, closed at 12 P.M. or worst, not open for a whole week straight.

When the morning comes, fuck. It’s Monday. A groan as you sat up on the edge of your bed, praying your phone didn’t had so much notification.

Oh yep. Never mind.

Your friends, well. Work friends kept spamming you about a new guy coming in. Your colleagues knew you like men. But this is just absurd and just bullshit, just because it’s a guy. Doesn’t mean you automatically liked him!

——————————————————————

i heard he’s cute!

@[Name] wake up you idiot, raise and shineeeeee~

@[Name]

@[Name]

@[Name]

@[Name]

@[Name]

Guys, let him at least try to process whatever you little shits spam at him

——————————————————————

You don’t really had the energy to reply everyone’s bullshit. You simply yawned as you slowly scroll up, your colleague, Zhuxin sent a picture of Wu Xiangli. Just a simple glance, you already hated the fact he looked pretty. Messy black hair with hazel eyes. He isn’t practically muscular, he does had some muscle but not a lot like one of your male colleague, Xavier.

——————————————————————

i’m coming…

stop bombarding me with texts

——————————————————————

You turned your phone, you stood up from bed, letting it messy. Because, who would even come to your apartment anyway?

“[Name]! you do came.” Zhuxin’s voice echoed around the Paxxy’s meeting room. You came in with your usual suit, with Paxxy’s logo on your suit’s collar.

You grumble as you took your chair, which was next to Zhuxin. “As much as I hate that Mei and Touya terrorize me this morning, I still prefer to be here then in the apartment,” you sighed. Then added quietly. “Even thought I had to see their stupid faces…”

Zhuxin rolled her eyes, amusing by your comment. “Boss is coming a bit late, he said he had to help his wife about something, but he asked me to give you this,” she explained, giving you a sheet of paper. “Give this to [Name], he said.”

You raised and eyebrow, accepting the paper she gave you. “And this paper being?”

“To not use violence and followed the rule on your mission later. He doesn’t want Wu Xiangli to follow your steps OR traumatized a new co-worker.”

It’s relatively funny to remember that day when you first met Itto Touya, you just threw the plan like it was nothing when you and him was signed to kill a corrupt governor. The fact you still remembered it vividly—you stabbed that governor in the face—12 times—you saw Touya’s face paled when he saw blood on your face, as you kicked that corpse like nothing but rock. At the end, it resulted by Touya scared of going to work for a week or so.

“That man…” You sighed. Thanking Zhuxin after she gave you a pen, what you had to fill was just a yes and no question. Only two but it’s hard for you to held back to choose violence.

After you filled the paper, you decided to had a conversation with Zhuxin. You had a long conversation about a lot of things, until you lost track of time. Since most of your colleague was there, and your boss, Kamishiro was in front of the board. He rubbed his eyes, you noted that his eye bags had increased, maybe because he had to deal with his kids at home.

“Right so—” Kamishiro shuffled between his papers, he cleared his throat. His voice slowly sounding smooth yet professional. “I’m sure, here. Everyone knew why I called you there; we are getting a brand new member to our team.”

To think about it… there’s only five people who’s working for Paxxy, including this new member obviously, everyone already knew.

“Well then—please, welcomed Wu Xiangli .” Kamishiro extended his hand, everyone’s gaze met with Wu Xiangli.

He was identical to what Zhuxin sent on the group chat, even better—for a moment. Your professional face slowly melted, you mindlessly stare at the man in front of you—well, everyone. Xiangli was standing next to Kamishiro, your boss was around 183 cm Xiangli was seemingly taller, maybe your rough guess was around 187 cm.

Kamishiro when runs around everybody’s seats. Giving everyone a profile about Wu Xiangli, it wasn’t really detailed. The profile of Xiangli was rather simple—the profile card includes him with a neutral face, that still, he looks so pretty…

How many prettiest do you even use…

Name : Wu Xiangli

Age : 23

Nationality : Chinese

Height : 188 cm [6’2]

Weight : 72 [ 158 ibs]

Probably because of the muscle… you muttered to yourself as you bore to the profile. Your eyes just stare at that face, as if it hypnotize you. Zhuxin, who was beside you slow nudged your shoulder. A low chuckle escaped from her lips. Shit, you were caught!? You let out a cough that caught Xiangli’s attention, he smiled at you. Charismatic and innocent.

Is he though?

“Right, since all of us seated facing each other, I suggest Xiangli sat next to [Name]. Since his left is empty.” You snapped back to reality when Touya raised his hand. What even happened? Were you day dreaming? You looked at Zhuxin, who immediately avoiding your gaze. In front of you—Touya, Mei, and Xavier also did the same. Kamishiro just nodded thoughtfully, without another thought. Assigned Xiangli to sat next to you.

You couldn’t really bite back at your boss. Well, your salary would probably get decreased if you did it again. You sat on your place with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest as Xiangli next beside you. He adjusted his navy suit and Paxxy logo you yourself confused how did he get it so quickly. You stared at the Paxxy logo.

For new members to obtain it, they’ll have to face intense training for roughly six months. No exceptions, gender nor age. You’ve trained Touya in the past, and you’ve also seen how Zhuxin trained Xavier and Mei. Don’t forget, a lot of people who signed up for Paxxy didn’t last for a week. Dropping out the job because it was too much, but here is Xiangli. Proudly wearing the logo, you didn’t recall Zhuxin or other members training him, because when a new member came. Everyone had to rate his progress.

How odd…

“Is something wrong with me, ah… 哥哥?” Xiangli pointed at himself as he titled his head a shy smile formed between his lips. He looked so innocent, really.

You shook your head. “Sorry, a little distracted. Just… call me [Name], it’s fine.”

Xiangli’s eye lightened up. But there was a hint of worry in his eyes. “Isn’t it a bit… you know.”

“I’d rather be called my name then my last.” You said, shrugged as you looked back at Kamishiro who already ended the meeting.

Everyone—Zhuxin, Mei, Touya, and Xavier rose from their seats, followed by you. As others left, Kamishiro coughed. Which took your attention and Xiangli towards him. Hos thumb pointed back, showing to the back alley.

“So, [Name] and Xiangli.” Kamishiro leaned against the wall. “Since today is Xiangli’s first day at Paxxy, today. A corrupt commander under the fake name Li Yao. We haven’t known much information from him.” He sighed disappointed, Kamishiro tapped his watch. A small hologram projector appeared about “Li Yao” information.

Name : Li Yao[?]

Age : –

Nationality : Chinese

Height : 190 cm [6’2.8]

Weight : 76 kg [167 ibs]

ㅤㅤ> Information: A commander that had work for approximately 5 years. In his third year of work, “Li Yao” was secretly killing those who were lower then him. If his victims nor suspects tried to speak up, he’ll blackmail them. In his fourth year mark. He corrupted around 245000 Yuan [34015,97 USD] without consequences. There’s currently not much information about him…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ→

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤto be continued~

The picture, which was suppose to be filled by “Li Yao”, was empty… filled by a blank male. Your gaze harden when you stare at the void profile. You groaned in frustration, while Xiangli was looking at the info board. As if he tried to study the very information.

“Unfortunately, we can’t find any detailed information about him,” Kamishiro sighed defeated as he rubbed his temple. “However, commander Li Yao’s ex-partner. Asked to assassinating him, he said, and I quote; This evening. Li Yao held a ceremony for the anniversary of him being a commander, in a mansion that’s privately his. I’ll give you the coordinates later, let me know.”

Xiangli placed his index and thumb over his chin. He then slammed his right hand, that’s in a fist to his left hand. As if he figured something. “I think I know where would this mansion be.”

Kamishiro raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Li Yao may had many mansions. But I can take my guess that this mansion where we celebrate his anniversary is inside of the forest that’s far from the city.” Xiangli explained. His voice was surprisingly calm. “I had a feeling that this manor of his was the “haunted” house that people rumored to once became a place of murder.”

You and Kamishiro paused for a moment, he then added. “How so? Because once, my relative was hunting around the same forest and heard music right underground.”

“Are you sure that it’s not a made up story?” You countered. Xiangli shook his head as he pulled out his phone. “I have evidence.”

The light of Xiangli’s phone slowly shined inside of the empty alley, firstly, a video showed. It was a voice of a male in chinese that sounded faded, but there’s a sound like from 1980-an classic that echoed in the background. Xiangli than swipe right, showing foto, a window with a glimpse of a party. Even a picture of a man and woman making you.

“Gross…” You whimpered, Kamishiro rolled his eyes at you. He inspects the picture longer then he should, your boss slowly nodded approvingly.

“Wu Xiangli is responsible of this project—” “WHAT!?” Your voice practically echoed around the Paxxy’s office. Some staff looked at you with concerned. “Kamishi—Boss. Hey, I thought Zhuxin said that—”

You boss ignored you, well there’s no point of arguing with you. Kamishiro looked at Xiangli, his hand clasped over the younger male’s shoulder. “I assigned you to our project; Elimination LY. You, Xiangli. Will had long talk with [Name] about this project. If did something that’s out of the plan, let me know.”

“Now, get the plan ready.” Kamishiro walked out from the alley, Xiangli’s eyes widened as if he was tasked by god. You just groaned.

It's not like you can’t trust him completely. It’s more because he was new, and the most new members you’ve trained always confused about Kamishiro’s orders, even some still confused how to load a gun. But Xiangli seemed he can do all of those things with ease. Which made you suspicious.

“So, [Name]!! Are you ready to hear the plan?” Xiangli turned to you, the sudden calm and seriousness turned to childish. His hazel eyes sparkled with stars, you slightly caught of guard. But you nodded.

Inside of the empty Paxxy office, you and Xiangli was in front of the hologram projector, showing the “haunted” mansion Xiangli said. Along with the evidence from his phone, how he explained everything was absolutely beautiful. As if he was in a meeting with many important people. But really, he was only with you.

Though, he looked serious. He sometimes paused mid presentation, and smiled at you. It looked so innocent—you hated it. You tried to hide your reddened face but it was difficult by the fact he kept repeating that smile.

Xiangli’s presentation, to put it simply; he planned to use a bait for “Li Yao”, the bait being a specifically male and one executes the killing. He also found two pictures of males he theorized being “Li Yao”, first. A picture of an old man in his 50s and a male in his 30s. After all of that, you were the one telling Kamishiro.

“So. This is all of Xiangli’s plan?” Kamishiro asked, clutching the paper in his hands as he titled his head to look at Xiangli.

“Y–yes, Mr. Kamishiro,” Xiangli answered. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Kamishiro paused for a moment as he nodded his head thoughtfully. “So, your plan is to make a bait. Right?” Xiangli nodded, Kamishiro continued. “Well then, [Name] is the bait.”

You turned your head to Kamishiro, glaring at him. You were staring straight at his soul. But Kamishiro didn’t seemed to be amused, he slowly looked at Xiangli who covered his face with his right hand as he looked down. Both you and Kamishiro looked at him with a confused look.

“Something… wrong?” You broke the silence, Xiangli jolted for a second. His face was red. With what? “It couldn’t be that bad, right?”

“I’m going to fucking kill him…”

Who said that? Obviously, you did. You were seating on the back seat while Kamishiro was driving the car. Never in your life you’d imagine yourself wearing a stupid maid dress for a mission. You placed your hand over your face, honestly. You can refuse but you have corrupt people with a burning passion.

When you arrived at the mansion. It was like how Xiangli describe—it’s still looked like a haunted mansion. But you can hear a song echoed underneath you, the mansion was closed. You didn’t saw the glimpse of the picture however. Kamishiro already left, so you stood there confused—you slowly tapped the small ear comm on your ear.

“Xiangli, tell me the plan.” Your voice was low, you slowly take blind steps. The sound of your booths and the soft hums of creatures of the dark is the only thing company you.

Not long after, Xiangli’s voice came in. “Ah… 哥哥? Are you safe there?”

“Okay okay… so listen carefully; there’s an entrance right around—” “Found it.”

You effortlessly opened an entrance, that was literally in the back of the mansion. You looked around, when you sure everything was safe. You slowly opened the door. Everything seemed gloomy, but you found stairs that lead down. You asked Xiangli, he said with confidence it was where the ceremony is.

You pulled out a cloth from the pocket of your maid outfit, threw it to the stairs and wait. There’s no much signs of danger, so you slowly took some steps down, the sound of music slowly grew louder and louder. There was a door right on the end. You slowly traced over the wooden material, you knocked the door—unsure why. But the door slowly opened, your eyes widened at the sight you were seeing.

The room was big, maybe a wholeass soccer filed, many tables arranged beautifully, flowers, everything was perfect. There were many men in the room—well, obvious. You stood there, looking for a spot to at least, tried to had a convo with Xiangli later on. Your ear comm suddenly lose connection, you cursed under your breath as you walked almost into endless circles until you accidentally bumped with someone.

Your grunted and immediately backed off, you were about to apologize when the man turned his head—a smile formed between his lips.

“Oh, and who you might be?” His voice sounded calm, soft but there’s something under it that you can’t really take a finger on. “Welcome, I suppose you’re a maid here too. Please, I’m Fu Yuan just call me…”

“…Li Yao.”

You froze for a moment, your eyes widened, Li Ya—no, Fu Yuan. It’s rather surprising that you found him so early, usually it took for hours but you somehow able to find him within minutes. His face doesn’t really resembles any of thing that Xiangli showed. He looked like he was in his 20s. You and Fu Yuan also looked similar in age, but you didn’t asked much about it.

“Just call me by Raven.” You used your codename instead. Besides, using your actual name may bring suspicion. “For give me for my recklessness, commander Fu Yuan.”

Fu Yuan had hazel hair—neither from the lighting of that’s his actual hair with a white strain in his hair. His raven eyes met with yours, you actually paused for a moment when you finally noticed he was slightly taller than you. Maybe 181 cm.

“It’s nothing really,” Fu Yuan smiled. It almost too sweet, you tried to keep your guard. He looked at some of his partners, his hand slowly moved over your waist when you tried to find somewhere to communicate with Xiangli, he then dragged you closer. Continuing whatever he was talking about with his partners.

His grip was strong, it tried to squirm away from him. But you felt a hand moving inside of your maid dress, moving up your ass. You looked at Fu Yuan who didn’t seemed to be bothered by what he was doing—he squeezed your cheeks making you gasped.

Fucking asshole!

You flinched your hand into a fist, preparing to his Fu Yuan at his face. When the ear comm suddenly buzzed, you slightly leaned back so the voice couldn’t be heard. You heard sounds when you finally getting connection on the other side. Xiangli was grunting and sounds of men falling one my one. Even sounds of gunshots could be heard.

You heard another gunshot followed by another squeezed on your cheeks by Fu Yuan, you slowly moved the commander’s away when he drank a glass of wine. You walked to an empty corner, a buzz slowly came when you finally heard Xiangli’s voice. Well, more specifically. His pants.

“哥哥, any informations?” His voice sounded ragged. You can correct him, but you sighed as you looked back at Fu Yuan.

Glaring at his back before you finally replied. “Firstly, he was a fucking pervert. Touching someone’s ass without their consent. Secondly, this “Li Yao” is Fu Yuan.”

The side from Xiangli was a full-on silence. You nervously looked around, your eyes slowly met with Fu Yuan’s raven eyes. He smiled at you, you looked at him carefully.

Fuck, he was walking towards you.

Panic slowly filled your heart, when Xiangli was saying something you couldn’t really heard. You immediately turned off your ear comm.

[Xiangli’s POV…]

“哥哥? 哥哥!?” There’s nothing. He waited, and waited. But he didn’t get anything as a response. Xiangli sighed, kicking something as he cursed loudly.

What he was kicking exactly? Corpses, of course! The corpses he had killed that was Fu Yuan’s personal guards that was sent if there were some assassination attempts. He was surrounded by corpses of men, alone in the lower part of the mansion. He leaned into the wall that had crimson. Xiangli stepped on one of the dead bodies, he rested his right arm over his knee as he looked at the corpses. He then looked at the door in front of him, the door where he will met with you.

Xiangli couldn’t deny it that he worried about you. But your words filled his mind; “Firstly, he was a fucking pervert. Touching someone’s ass without their consent.” Fu Yuan harassed someone like you, someone Xiangli never thought he’d actually had feelings for. Born in a dark household and the only thing he knew was to kill to survive. And then he saw someone like you.

Better life… better home… better everything. He may not know much about, but he was willing to know anything for you.

…Guess you ruined the plan. But you don’t have any other choice.

Blood stained your maid outfit. Bodies of man—woman scattered around the room, you pointed your blade at Fu Yuan, who doesn’t seemed to be impressed in any sort of way. His face was all neutral, even though crimson stained his face. The tip of your blade shined thanks to the chandelier.

“Fu Yuan, you. Already did many things that were unforgivable,” your voice went cold—nothing of your usual tone was there. “You’ve killed innocents, blackmailed people… many others.”

You slowly lowered your blade. “But never in my life, I thought you’d touch people without their consent. That’s fucking harassment.”

Your eyes locked with Fu Yuan, moments of silence—he laugh. He fucking laughed. “Ah, Raven… or should I say, [Name]. What’s the problem?”

You clutched your blade, he walked forward. Pulling out his own blade. “Working for Paxxy don’t you? Such pointless organization. It doesn’t matter what you do, the law is blind money was enough for everything. What do they desire? Money! Humanity wanted nothing but cash, [Name].”

Fu Yuan leaned forward, his blade slowly clashed with yours. The steal rubbing against each other, echoing the empty room. “And I happened to had a lot of them.”

You counter Fu Yuan’s attack, immediately. Your eyes aim at his neck, You slide back, Fu Yuan strike his blade. Your eyes widened, even after you counter his attack once more, blood slowly tickled your cheek, crimson fall on the golden floors. The sound of blades clashing to another—slashes was like a song in the mansion.

Even if you had a lot of experience fighting, you found yourself being cornered by Fu Yuan. Some parts of your maid outfit was cut by Fu Yuan’s unforgiving attacks. Blood slowly came from your mouth, you kneel down as you grabbed your chest. Desperately trying to keep yourself together. Fu Yuan was right in front of you, you gulped. Guess this was your faith—

—Bang!

A bullet came in and left Fu Yuan his own blooded cheek, you look to find Xiangli Yao pointing at his gun with a stoic face. Fuck, he looks handsome even with a stoic face—

Since Fu Yuan was off guard, you immediately used your leg to hit Fu Yuan’s, his eyes widened as he stumbled back. You stood up, immediately, you used your elbow and send a blow straight to Fu Yuan’s face. Blood slowly poured in his nose, Xiangli wasn’t silent neither, he used his leg to made the commander tripped backwards, he fisted his hang and give him a punch on the face.

Xiangli’s hazel eyes looked down to Fu Yuan’s raven eyes. Xiangli haven’t said anything—but you already come in. Ending that commander with your blade, stabbing his stomach repeatedly. Fu Yuan’s screams slowly—immediately went quiet. Xiangli just looked at you, eyes widened. He didn’t expect to see someone higher then him—wearing a maid dress but somehow. He still able to show his colors.

Brutal and handsome.

You’d probably didn’t stop when Xiangli pulled you back, his hands gripping your arms. Your maid dress was stained by more crimson, your blade was stuck on Fu Yuan’s body. Your eyes met with Xiangli’s, he was the now staring. Not in a scared way, but more in a way in love.

“…Sorry.” You broke to silence, a sigh running from your lips.

Xiangli raised an eyebrow. “What for?”

You sighed, sitting on top of the dead commander. “For ruined the plan,” you said calmly. “Seriously. This bitch was touching me, what are you expecting me to do? Sit down and let him?”

Xiangli chuckled, shaking his head amusingly. “Sorry for that… [Name]. But I saved you, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Shouldn’t I get a little reward then?” Xiangli kneeled down in front of you, his eyes glamping with mischief.

If Xiangli was a stranger or even worst, Fu Yuan. You’d cringed and probably killed him.

“Does it hurt?” Xiangli rested his head over your shoulder. You slightly squirmed in his lap, you felt a finger inserted to your hole.

Xiangli’s fingers were thick, his fingers may not be the longest, but it was enough to stretch your hole wide. A whimper escaped your lips as he slammed this middle and ring finger, your hands gripped his suit that smelled like metallic from the blood and a strong smell that you assumed was his perfume.

“[Name]…” Xiangli whispered against your ear, you shivered as he thrust his fingers deeper, making you whimpered. His free hand slowly moving to your cock was already leaked out pre-cums. “I need an answer, please?”

“Xiangli… fuck—!” You lolled your head back, your hands gripping Xiangli’s suit harder when moans finally escaped your lips. Both of the sensation of his fingers and hand working together, you panted. But the moment Xiangli’s middle finger rubbed your prostate, you swore you see stars.

…Not until the door where you entered the first you came to the mansion.

Kamishiro, and five other people wearing black suits froze all at once when they saw you. Your lower half naked and sitting on Xiangli’s lap, it was clear what he was doing to you. Those people behind Kamishiro, some covered their eyes, and the other ran out and groaned.

“Xiangli, what is this—” “I thought I may not be able to saved you… so I call for backup. Guess they’re late.” Xiangli whispered, shrugging like it wasn’t a big of a deal. Kamishiro slapped himself seeing both of you.

Never again, you’ll accept Xiangli’s “requests” during missions.

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag XVIII

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON (+mentions of loss of virginity), DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, mentions of violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, semi public sex,  jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

It wasn’t the feeling of familiar lips on your face that woke you up…

It was the pain.

It was a dull persistent ache that you were sure you’d felt even in your sleep. You’d never felt anything like it before, and in the back of your mind, you wondered if you should be worried. At what point does lingering pain warrant a visit to the hospital? It wasn’t like you had any experience with this kind of pain.

You’d never been raped before.

Your chest ached heavily as you thought that, and you felt your throat tighten as the memories of last night assaulted your mind over and over again. You’d been drunk, but yet you remembered everything so clearly as if you hadn’t had a sip, at all. You didn’t know if you thought that was cruel or not. After all, wasn’t it better to remember everything to tell the police?

…were you going to tell the police?

The thought made your eyes burn, and you realized that you weren’t so confident that you were. But why wouldn’t you? You remembered the sight of bloody water swirling down the drain, the pain every time you walked, and you were still feeling the effects of Rafe’s violent assault. Why on earth wouldn’t you go to the cops?

“Y/N…”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice reminded you that you had to rejoin the land of the living at some point, and considering the nightmare that was the previous night, you didn’t want to see what would happen should you feign sleep any longer. So, with a deep breath, you opened your eyes…and met the soft gaze of the man who terrified you more than anyone ever had.

“Hey,” Rafe softly whispered, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Good morning, baby.”

You didn’t respond to him, opting to stare at him, and not because you just wanted to, but because you didn’t know what to say.

You stared at the face of your beautiful boyfriend and thought to yourself that that face belonged to the same man who’d held you down and raped you. The same hair, the same eyes, the same lips. It was all the same because it was the same man, and you had the hardest time wrapping your head around that. 

When Rafe hit you a month ago, you’d forgiven him. In your heart, you genuinely believed that he was sorry and that it wouldn’t happen again. After all, he’d been drinking and you’d been drinking and you’d gone out of your way to make him mad. You didn’t think it was fair that you were the one to be angry on your birthday, and so you’d said what you said—provoking him.

…but last night was different.

You hadn’t done anything to warrant what he’d done. Besides, it wasn’t like there was ever anything that could be done to warrant that. You hadn’t done anything to Rafe, at all, and the revelation that he could do that to you—had done that to you—made your eyes water.

You watched Rafe swallow at the sight, sitting up a bit.

“Y/N…”

Your tears spilled over as he said your name again, and he hurriedly wiped them away.

“Hey…hey,” he gently cooed, expression troubled as he watched you cry. “Last night…”

You sniffed.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay?” he quietly apologized. “I’d had a few drinks and my mind was making a big deal out of nothing and… Not that that’s an excuse…”

His words died in the air between you as you covered your face, sobbing into your hands. It took him a while to pull one away, whispering your name repeatedly as he tried to get you to stop crying.

“I’m sorry,” he stressed, his face so close to yours as he held one of your hands. “That wasn’t right. Especially not…”

Rafe’s thoughts seemed to be all over the place, and it seemed like once your tears started, they just couldn’t stop. No matter how much you tried not to, you could only remember him screaming at you and shoving you and holding you down despite how much you tried to get him off of you. It made your chest hurt almost as much as the pain between your thighs.

“I fucked that up for you, and I’m sorry,” he told you, leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”

Rafe was saying all of the ‘right’ things, but there wasn’t anything to be said that could undo this or even make this right. It was something that should’ve never happened, and if you weren’t so overwhelmed with fear and confusion and hurt, you would’ve told him that. You would’ve told Rafe every single thing that you were thinking, but at the moment, you could only try and grapple with what happened last night.

…and the fact that your boyfriend was the one to do it.

“It shouldn’t have been like that,” the blond whispered, quickly pressing his lips to yours. “That’s not how I wanted it to be.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, and when his hand rested on your cheek just as he started to deepen the kiss, you shook your head.

“Rafe…no-.”

You abruptly cut yourself off, taken aback by how quickly your heart started to race. You moved away from him a bit, but Rafe followed, pleas on his lips as he reached for you again.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” he repeated, his fingers pressing into your arm as his lips brushed against yours again. “Please, let me make this right.”

“Why,” you cried. “So, you can feel better?”

You hated that you hated the way Rafe’s face fell a bit at your words, and more tears fell against your will. He wiped some of them away, and his eyes traced your face. The house sounded so quiet, and you wondered what the rest of his family was doing while you and Rafe argued about what he did to you last night.

“I don’t want you to think about that when you think about your first time,” Rafe eventually whispered. “I don’t because…that makes me feel like shit. Okay? That makes me feel like the worst boyfriend in the world.”

You looked away from him, staring at the wall behind him for a while. You didn’t want that memory either, but it was too late, and there was no doubt in your mind that you’d never forget it. More than anything at the moment, you just wanted to be home and in your own bed and thinking about what you were going to do. 

There was no way you could stay with Rafe. That couldn’t be an option and yet…he terrified you. In the span of two months, he became someone you were struggling to recognize. The incident on your birthday was one thing, but last night was something else entirely. You didn’t know what to expect from him anymore…and that was terrifying.

You were terrified of him.

Right now.

His hand was on your arm and you were in his bed and he was so close. It was obvious you didn’t want this, but it had also been obvious last night, and look what happened? What if Rafe hurt you again? You’d been so sure before that he wouldn’t, that your birthday was the last time, but now…you didn’t know. 

You didn’t know anything anymore.

…and so when Rafe misconstrued your silence and leaned in again, you let him.

“No, I know-.”

Rafe seemed to be once again cut off by Ward who was on the other end of the phone. They’d been going back and forth for all of thirty minutes, and it wasn’t hard to tell that Ward was angry with Rafe about something. It sounded work related, and you chose to keep your eyes on the bridal magazine in your lap while he paced by the pool. It was one of the many that your mother bought and subscribed to for you. 

Topper and Kelce were inside—rolling a blunt or two no doubt—and you and your boyfriend had been lounging by the pool together until his phone rang. He’d told you that Ward was giving him more responsibility now, seeing if he could really prove himself, and more responsibility came with the possibility of bigger disappointments. You didn’t know what Rafe had screwed up exactly, but it didn’t seem pretty.

When he gave out one loud and angry huff, you knew that Ward had hung up on him.You kept your gaze on the picture of the impressive dress before you, idly wondering if you could picture yourself on a dress like that. You’d told your mother that you wanted to keep it simple—elegant—but the truth was that you weren’t pressed at all about the kind of dress you’d wear.

Truthfully, you were more concerned with how you’d stomach walking down the aisle.

“Where’s your ring?”

Rafe’s question pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked at him with a slight frown. Funnily enough, he was frowning back. One of his hands was in his pocket, the other tossing his phone aside onto the table as he waited for you to answer him. You stared at his face for a moment, and your heart sank at the obvious.

Swallowing down a sigh, you answered him.

“At home. On my nightstand…”

“Why?” Rafe scoffed.

This time you did sigh, looking back down at the magazine.

“It’s huge, Rafe. It hits up against and gets caught on so many things. Not to mention, I’d feel like crap if I lost it,” you told him. “It’s…a lot.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. However, what you failed to mention was that the sight of it made you sick.

“You’re the one who made so much fuss about that ring…”

You chose not to remind him that not only was that years ago, but that was also before he’d started slapping you around.

“Besides, if you lost it I’d just get you another one,” he haughtily added. “Granted, I’d be fucking pissed, yeah, but I’d still replace it.”

“That’s not the point,” you sighed.

There was a brief pause.

“Then what is the point? I mean, is that really why you don’t want to wear it?”

You turned to look at him, now, and you didn’t like the way he was staring you down.

“...meaning…?”

You watched Rafe glance away, swiping his tongue between his lips.

“Meaning you don’t seem as excited as I thought you’d be about this engagement.”

You frowned at him.

“You’re never the one to bring up the wedding and when you’d like it to be, that’s always me. Rose is more excited than you seem to be, and…” he threw his hand up. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

“I told you why.”

“...and I don’t believe you.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, but Rafe continued before you could figure it out.

“I know you and Sarah like to talk and gossip like a bunch of old ladies, and I know for a fact she’s not happy about it.”

At that, you became a tad more alert.

“...and what would make you say that?”

“She’s been treating me like shit for days now,” he elaborated, making your heart sink. “I’m talking more than usual. Ignoring me, bumping into me, spilling shit on me. If looks could kill, I would’ve been dead days ago.”

You pressed your lips together at that, unable to tell Rafe that Sarah’s behavior had nothing to do with the engagement.

Not solely, anyway.

Time seemed to fly when your life was full of nothing but turmoil because it’d already been a week since that day at the Camerons’ when Sarah saw the bruises on your back and the truth came out. JJ had reassured you that he would make her understand, and while you weren’t sure just how well he succeeded, you did know that Rafe nor Ward were aware of what happened.

Every time you thought about that day, you wanted to crawl into a hole.

You had long resigned yourself to your bleak future with Rafe, and so you had never anticipated anyone finding out. JJ had been bad enough, but Sarah was a whole other kind of problem. Sarah was never supposed to find out, and sometimes you had the urge to seek her out like she’d been trying to do with you, but you just weren’t in the right headspace to handle anyone other than JJ knowing.

You knew that you and Sarah needed to talk—really talk—but one person breathing down your neck about your tumultuous relationship was bad enough. You knew that the moment you let Sarah in, she’d be relentless. Nevermind the fact that you didn’t know how to look her in the face and be open about the abuse you’d been facing at the hands of her brother, but you knew that it was inevitable she’d learn the truth about Ward too.

You were trying to put it off for as long as possible.

“Maybe you pissed her off for a completely unrelated reason, and you just can’t remember what,” you told him.

Rafe let out a light laugh, but it was humorless.

“Or…you’ve been complaining to her about me and this wedding.”

You and Rafe stared at each other for a while before you finally conceded with a sigh.

“I’m not doing this,” you said, standing.

“Doing what, exactly?” Rafe wondered, nearing you.

“This,” you emphasized, gesturing between you two. “You fucked up at work, pissed off Ward, and now you’re pissed, and well…here I am.”

You threw your hands up.

“Go smoke some weed or get drunk, but I’m not going to sit here and just let you pick a fight with me because your dad is mad at you.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I’m picking a fight because I’m genuinely irritated with you?” he spat, sneering at you. “What–what you think I just noticed you don’t wear your ring? You don’t think I’ve been nice about it for days? Tried to give you some grace? Some understanding?”

You leaned away a bit as he leaned in, swallowing.

“I told you why I’m not wearing it.”

Rafe looked down his nose at you, dirty blond hair brushing his forehead.

“...and I told you that I don’t fucking believe you.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What do you want from me, Rafe? You want me to go get it?”

The crooked smile he gave you was mocking, and he nodded at you.

“Yeah, actually, I want you to go get it,” he said, jerking his head towards the door.

He may have been a sardonic asshole about it, but you could see in his blue eyes that he was dead serious. Pulling your gaze away from his, you brushed by him with a huff, in search of your keys.

“Hurry up,” he said, slightly shoving you.

“Don’t touch me,” you spat, slapping his hand away.

“Or what? Huh?” he wondered, shoving you again.

Deep down, you knew that you were giving Rafe the fight he wanted, but in the back of your mind, all you could hear was JJ telling you that Rafe was proving him right. It made you want to cry, and in some weak effort to prove JJ wrong, you couldn’t stomach just sitting back and acting like a victim at the moment.

You turned to face Rafe—silent and angry—and you just stared at him as he stared at you, the blond fiending for you to give him a reason. His blue gaze was hard and his jaw was clenched and all you could think was that this was happening because he couldn’t take his anger out on Ward like he wanted to. 

He was such a coward when it came to that man, always seeking his approval and never quite measuring up. It made you pity Rafe at times, and it was that thought that had you turning away, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“What? Not so bold, anymore?”

When he pushed you again, you turned around and returned the favor, albeit not as successfully.

“I said don’t touch me!”

The slap was equally as painful as it was loud, and by the way your lip stung, you knew it’d hit your tooth in a way that drew blood. You eventually tasted it, but before you could linger on that, Rafe’s hand was on your throat.

“Just who the fuck do you think you are? Huh? Since when do you tell me what I can and can’t do?”

His nose was touching yours, and he’d just opened his mouth to speak again when he was interrupted.

“Rafe! Rafe, come on, man,” Kelce told him, trying to pull him away.

Topper was getting his hands in between you two, helping Kelce separate Rafe from you.

“Rafe, what the hell,” the younger blond said. “Come on, let her go.”

When Kelce got your boyfriend to let go, your relief was short-lived.

“Rafe, stop!”

He didn’t actually listen to his friend, but Rafe didn’t hit you a third time because he got what he wanted. Your eye watered from the second hit, and you felt Topper’s hands on your arms as you stumbled. You could see Kelce pushing Rafe away out of the corner of your eye, and you wondered if the dark-skinned guy realized that Rafe was letting him.

You roughly pulled yourself out of Topper’s hold, stumbling inside despite how shaky your vision was. Your feet threatened to trip you as you made your way to the bathroom, sniffling as you hurriedly turned the water on in the sink. You couldn't even focus on the fact that Rafe had crossed the invisible line he’d drawn and hit you in front of his friends.

You’d expected it eventually, and with the ring now on your finger—not at the moment of course—he not only felt more secure, but more bold as well.

One glance into the mirror had you wincing, and you were quick to wet a rag and wipe your face. It stung, but it wasn’t unfamiliar, and you found yourself more annoyed with the fact that you’d have to spend however much time in your car putting on some makeup. You sniffed again, cleaning the rag before pressing it to your face again.

You weren’t fazed at all by the sound of nearing footsteps.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t answer him right away, only continuing to stare into the mirror and wipe the blood away. You wet the rag again, cleaning it with some soap and rinsing it out in the sink. You were in absolutely no rush to acknowledge Topper, but when you did, you held no punches.

“Like you care…”

There was a beat of silence.

“Of course, I care.”

When you finally met his gaze in the mirror, you actually chuckled at the frown on his face.

“Well…I would really hate to see how you treat someone you don’t give a damn about.”

Topper opened his mouth to respond to that, but you beat him to it.

“Come on, Topper…” you whispered, turning around to face him. “You hear how he talks to me…”

You watched the blond press his lips together.

“You see the way he treats me—all of you do! He treats me like his goddamn property, and all of you just go along with it,” you cried. “You barely acknowledge me when he’s there, and you talk about me like I’m not even there, and you only give something to me or say something to me through him like he’s my fucking handler or something.”

Topper at least had the sense to look ashamed, and you watched him swallow.

“None of you are stupid,” you quietly said. “You all see it. You all know it, but you don’t say anything or do anything because he’s your bro…”

You hated the way your voice cracked because this wasn’t some new revelation for you. Topper and Kelce and all of Rafe’s buddies may not have known he was hitting you, but Rafe was more bold in how he treated you around them than anyone else, and it was because he knew they weren’t going to do shit about it. He could always talk to you any kind of way he wanted, and they wouldn’t do a thing.

Midsummers came to mind, and you blinked back tears.

“You and Kelce only decided to be heroes today because God forbid something horrible goes down in your house, and how would you ever explain that to mommy and the cops,” you sneered.

When Topper’s gaze met yours, he looked like he wanted to say something, but you didn’t have the patience to wait around for him to grow the balls to say it. With a tearful scoff, you tossed the rag at his chest before roughly pushing past him in search of your keys.

You could tell that Sarah was wearing Rose down by the way the older woman huffed, and despite the fact that they were just on the other side of the room, you kept your gaze on the magazine in your lap.

“You act like I'm trying to throw a party or something,” Sarah said, an edge in her tone. “It’s getting late and we have like two guest rooms. We can’t spare one of them so my friend can have a comfortable place to sleep?”

You couldn’t recall the excuse Sarah gave when she first approached Rose, but you didn’t have to look at JJ’s face to know that it was a lie. You didn’t know what was going on with him and Luke—although it wasn’t hard to guess—but it clearly wasn’t safe for him to be at home.

Sarah had been pleading his case for minutes…and JJ hadn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire time.

“Fine,” Rose eventually gave in, voice shrill as she held her hands up. “Anything is broken or conveniently ‘lost’, I’m telling your father I had no knowledge of this.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing up just in time to see JJ and Sarah doing the same. When Rose exited the room, you became all too aware that it was just you three, and you shut the flimsy book in your lap. The air was tense and awkward for more reasons than one, and you suddenly wanted to be at your house despite the fact that Rafe was out of town with Ward.

“It is getting late,” you mumbled, standing. “I should probably head home.”

You avoided both of their gazes as you made your way towards the stairs to get your purse from Rafe’s room. You were halfway up them when you heard hurried footsteps heading towards you. You weren’t surprised to hear Sarah call your name. You were slow to face her, and you hated the look on her face.

Like she didn’t know if she wanted to hug you or cry for you.

“You can stay…if you want…”

She sighed.

“You’re always staying over even when Rafe isn’t here, and I want you to know that I’m not going to…”

The blonde girl trailed off, struggling to voice her thoughts.

“JJ talked to me,” she slowly said, her palms hovering over her chest. “He talked to all of us and…did what he could without saying anything you might not want us to know.”

Your shoulders sagged a bit.

“I don’t like it,” she said, voice cracking and eyes watering. “I really don’t like it, but it’s not about me.”

Sarah took a deep breath.

“I have to prioritize your safety over my feelings,” she whispered, looking like that was really hard for her to say. “...and…I can’t push you. I can’t force everything I want to know out of you. You tell me what you want to when you’re ready. That’s how it has to be.”

While Sarah sounded like she was regurgitating whatever someone else might’ve said, you appreciated that she was trying to handle this in a way that was best. You couldn’t lie, you did relax a bit at hearing that, feeling more inclined to stay. It was relieving to know that Sarah was going to do her best to let this happen on your terms.

After all, it wasn’t like you told her about Rafe of your own volition. 

The truth was forced out into the open, made worse by Sarah’s expected panic.

“Okay,” you eventually told her, nodding. “Thanks, Sarah.”

You gave her a strained smile, one that she returned, and when you looked past her, your eyes briefly met familiar blue ones.

Your gaze didn’t linger, and you were quick to retreat to Rafe’s room.

A part of you still considered going home, anyway, slightly uncomfortable with the knowledge that JJ was under the same roof. The last time you’d talked, yes, he promised that he’d talk to Sarah—to which you were grateful—but he’d also conveniently ignored so much of what you said. It felt less cruel to tell him about your engagement yourself, and your eyes fell to the ring on your finger, the piece of jewelry having a permanent place there ever since that day at Topper’s.

JJ’s reaction hadn’t exactly been shocking, but because you were so used to Rafe and the horror that was your relationship, the reminders of it hardly affected you anymore. Yes, Rafe was your abuser and rapist, and yes you were marrying him. Such a statement felt like recalling the color of the sky or grass to you because it was inevitable.

Kie was completely right when she said you were never leaving him.

Of course, she hadn't known the reason why then, and you were sure she was just as horrified as JJ about the whole thing, but she hadn't lied. JJ might not care about what was technically fair to him, but you did, and your life was already ruined—future set in stone. That didn’t mean you had to drag JJ’s down with you.

It was hours later when you had long put the younger blond out of your mind and sought out sleep when you heard it.

You thought that you almost imagined the small tap, but then you heard it again, and you stared at the door. The moon was outside of Rafe’s window, bathing his room in a soft glow, and the silence between the second and third tap stretched for a long time, but when you heard it again, you knew.

It wasn’t Sarah.

You considered ignoring it and him, but almost as if he could read your mind, JJ spoke.

“Y/N.”

He whispered your name, but you heard it loud and clear, and you turned over on your back to stare at the ceiling with a frown. You didn’t know what he wanted, what he could possibly want to talk about, but a small part of you wondered just whose idea it was for JJ to crash at Sarah’s.

When you heard your name again, you finally pushed yourself to your feet.

You stood at the door, your shoulder pressed to the wall as you stared at the wood.

“It’s late, JJ…and we have nothing to talk about,” you whispered.

Your voice was low, but you knew that he could hear you.

“I know what it looks like when you’re wearing more makeup than usual…”

You swallowed at that.

“...and why.”

Your eye and lip was still bruised from what happened at Topper’s the other day, and you sighed. It was silent for a few more moments.

“Are you okay…?” he finally asked.

You gave a bitter chuckle.

“Are you?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, tone light and teasing despite the topic.

With a resigned sigh, you parted the door just a bit, turning on the light in the process.

JJ’s hair wasn’t nearly as messy as you expected it to be, making you wonder if he’d even gone to sleep, at all. You weren’t sure where Sarah found the old shirt and plaid pajama pants, but you had your suspicions that they’d belonged to Rafe once upon a time.

It wasn’t as bad as it was the day after, and you knew that JJ had to have known that, but he still drank in the sight of your face as if it’d happened only hours ago. His blue eyes trailed along your bruised eye and then to your busted lip, and you watched the way his jaw ticked.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to voluntarily show any of this to Sarah…” you sadly told him. “I don’t think she’ll ever be ready for it.”

He leaned against the doorjamb.

“She thinks she wants to know everything, but…”

JJ didn’t have to elaborate. Sarah was used to witnessing JJ’s abuse at the hands of his father, but witnessing her friend’s abuse at the hands of her brother was going to be completely new and difficult territory. Doubly so if she ever knew the truth about Ward and just what that man chose to turn a blind eye to.

When JJ gently touched the bruise next to your eye, you softly exhaled.

“JJ…”

He dropped his hand, and you watched as his nostrils flared.

“It’s not fair,” he murmured, staring at you. “How does he get everything?”

It felt like JJ was speaking to himself instead of you.

“...even things he doesn’t deserve.”

You knew he was talking about Rafe.

“Even before he started treating you like this, he didn’t deserve you,” he whispered. “I know that for a fact.”

“...and who does deserve me? You?”

A bitter smirk danced across his pink lips.

“I think I’m more deserving of you than he is.”

You looked away from him, unable to respond to that because you didn’t entirely disagree. The silence between you stretched, and you were just about to call it and tell JJ goodnight when he spoke again.

“What do I have to say—do—to get you to give him that ring back?”

When your gaze met his, JJ was entirely serious. Your lips parted, wholly unprepared to rehash this tonight, and you shook your head.

“We’ve talked about this-.”

“...and we’re talking about it again.”

You resisted the urge to sigh.

“JJ…please…”

“Do I have to kill him?” he wondered with a shrug, making your eyes widen.

Your lips opened and closed, and you blinked.

“That’s not funny…”

“I’m not trying to be funny,” JJ told you, a deep frown on his face as he stared at you. “...but what else can I possibly suggest? I’m not just going to stand around and wait for the day Sarah tells me he finally did it.”

Your heart clenched at what he was insinuating. 

“For the day he shoves you down the stairs, and you don’t make it or the day he strangles you for too long-.”

“JJ, stop.”

“Why? Am I scaring you?” he harshly asked. “Good.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him.

“You want me to just stand back and wait for that…and I can't do it.”

“Goodnight, JJ,” you told him, pushing the door, but JJ pushed back.

“Look at your face,” he harshly hissed. “What happened to keeping him happy, huh? That plan fall through so soon?”

“Fuck you,” you tearfully whispered, your hold faltering on the door.

JJ used the opportunity to push his way past the threshold, and your eyes widened. You looked at him like he was crazy as he shut the door behind him, and you stumbled back.

“Are you crazy?”

JJ raised his brows at you.

“Probably, but you definitely must be if you actually expect me to listen to you,” he sneered. “Would you?”

His question stumped you, and you froze.

“If you were in my shoes, and it was me, would you listen to the bullshit you’re trying to feed me?”

The answer was obvious, and it was no, and you didn’t need to voice that for JJ to know it. You tearfully shook your head at him.

“It’s not fair to you, JJ,” you choked out.

JJ nodded at that, but you didn’t feel like he was agreeing with you.

“...and you know what? None of this is fair to you, but the difference is that you didn’t choose any of this,” he said to you, taking your arms.

“JJ-.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I kissed you,” he interrupted. “I knew that you might never leave that asshole, but then I found out what he was doing to you…”

You pulled on your arms, but JJ’s hold was firm.

“...and I knew that I had to get you away from that asshole.”

You knew it was coming, but you were somehow still completely unprepared for the kiss that JJ gave you.

The rest of the house was quiet—everyone asleep—and so you tried to keep your own voice down as you pushed JJ away.

“JJ, no. Especially not here…”

Your words died in your throat as he covered your lips with his again, the kiss making your lashes flutter. His hands were on your wrists, now, holding your own hands against his chest. When he walked forward, you stumbled back, and your heart fell to your stomach as the realization of what was very likely to happen started to creep up on you.

“Ask me if I care,” JJ murmured into the kiss.

His hands were tight on your wrist as he forced you back and back until the back of your legs grazed the bed—Rafe’s bed. Your stomach turned from a mix of things, mostly at how much of a new low this was. Granted, you were still sporting the physical evidence of Rafe’s abuse, but you couldn’t help it. He was awful and treated you like worse than dirt, but he was still your boyfriend.

JJ had never cared about that technicality though, evident in the way he moved his mouth against yours. When one of his hands fell to your waist, you followed suit in the hopes to pull his hand away, but you ended up using it to press into the bed to keep JJ from laying you down completely.

“JJ…”

The warning in your tone was weak, and it was apparent by the way the blond smiled against your lips.

He wouldn’t stop kissing you and touching you, and the only time his lips weren’t on yours was when he was ridding you of the shirt you’d been sleeping in, his quickly following suit. Your palms against his chest did nothing to stop him or even slow him down, JJ eager to feel your skin against his after literal weeks.

Somewhere along the way your protests became less and less frequent until they stopped altogether. Your hands were no longer pushing against him, but instead sliding along his skin as he tasted the inside of your mouth. All the reasons as to why this was technically wrong eluded you, and when JJ slowly pushed his cock into you—stretching you out in a way that you hadn’t felt for too long—it took everything to swallow down the moan that threatened to climb out of your throat.

His hips repeatedly curved into yours, every inch of him stroking you in a way that made you twist your fingers into the sheets. His teeth grazed the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses to it, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips. You tried so hard not to miss him—and this—but it turned out to be in vain.

As if he read your mind, JJ spoke.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered into the crook of your neck.

You could only nod, wrapping your legs around his waist as you pressed your nails into his back. One of his forearms was resting beside your head, and a shudder traveled down your spine as he pressed kisses across your collarbone. Your chest was heaving, and you lifted your hips to meet his thrusts halfway.

It felt good to have sex again with someone who didn’t terrify you, and you felt like JJ couldn’t get close enough. His blond hair was sticking to his forehead from sweat, and you pulled his face closer, kissing him. JJ hummed into your mouth as you breathed him in, missing him so much despite how much you didn’t want to.

“You’re so wet for me,” he quietly said against your lips. “You’re dripping for me, princess.”

He wasn’t wrong, and you had multiple reasons to be embarrassed by the fact—namely whose bed you were currently in—but you weren't able to focus on it as JJ continued to thrust into you. The bed jostled beneath his movements, and so lost in the ecstasy that he was giving you, your legs fell from around his waist. A few soft moans slipped out here and there, but you were always aware in the back of your mind that Sarah and Rose and Wheezie were just down the hall.

One of JJ’s hands dug into your waist, holding you down as his hips repeatedly met yours, and you watched him look between you, no doubt watching himself disappear into you. The sight turned you on even more, and you shakily exhaled.

You lost track of how long you were wrapped up in each other, but you ended the night on top of him, his hands on your breasts, and your own hands covering his as you slid yourself down onto his cock over and over again. Your lashes were fluttering and your eyes were rolling at the feeling of him inside of you. You had come once already, but JJ wasn’t done with you, attempting to make up for lost time.

…and when he finally spilled into you, you pressed your teeth into his shoulder to hide the sound of you coming around him too.

[mercedista]

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓⠀⠀⠀→⠀⠀⠀𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:⠀A killer breaks into your room, except he doesn't kill you. Well, that's one of the pros of being his girlfriend, even if you don't know that behind the mask is your boyfriend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒):⠀Porn with plot, horror, non-con, dub-con, mention of murder, threat, poor smut, squirting, toxic relationship.

𝐀/𝐍: Part one for more context. Also, I haven't proofread the content, I don't have any experience with smut and English is not my first language. Keep it in mind.

"Open your fucking mouth, before I make you pay for what you did with your own life." Not that there was any other option, he gave your cheek a light slap, just as a silent warning, and as soon as you opened it, he stuck his fingers in. It was a disgusting sensation for you, that glove rubbing against your tongue as you were forced to watch him use his other hand to open a little of the cape he was wearing and then his own pants.

You knew what to expect, and your vision became blurry again with tears.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and pushed the back of your head against his cock. You didn't want to notice, much less compare, but there was no way you couldn't, he was big. Maybe as big as your boyfriend.

"You've lost your choice, slut." Your thoughts were interrupted by his cock entering until he felt your throat squeezing it. You fought against it, not having prepared yourself, and not having any experience. You didn't know if that pain was normal, if it was his exaggerated size, or just the result of him being too violent with the thrust.

He held your head against him for a few seconds, before letting go and allowing you to catch your breath. But as soon as you recovered – a matter of only five seconds – he was already making you swallow his cock again. "Back to work."

At least he seemed to be having a little more mercy now, continuing to pump your head on his cock, while he threw his back each time your tongue dragged against a vein of his. His hair was already sweaty beneath that mask. "Fuck...!"

His breathing was heavy, but his throat was still forced to wait a few minutes that seemed more like hours until he finally reached his peak.

You were already dizzy, your head hurting, when he pushed your head back, ordering you to stick your tongue out. "I'm going to paint your pretty lips, baby."

The salty splashes touched your tongue, you felt disgusting, you wanted to spit it all out. Not because of the taste, but because of the guilt you felt for being used, even though you had no responsibility for it. "It's not over yet, doll."

Pulling you by the neck, he threw you on the bed, your face sinking against the pillow, while you only heard the clink of more parts of his clothes falling to the floor. "Please, just kill me already... I can’t–" You begged one last time, sobbing, fearing the worst that was to come.

"Don't cry, princess." He said, his voice surprisingly human now. And definitely familiar, more than you would have expected. You felt his hands turn your body, and through the tears that blurred your vision, you recognized the face of your dear boyfriend. If you could still call him that. "Surprise, I guess?" The look of horror that once again crossed his face was divine, and even better with the small sobs that passed through his lips.

"Did I scare you? I went easy on you, baby. I've done worse to my victims." He said, spreading your legs. Without any warning, he thrust into you, a growl escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench around his cock. "But you know... I'm faithful, I've never fucked them like that, if that makes you feel any better."

He wasn't being as delicate with his thrusts as his tone of voice was deceiving, his skin slapping against yours without any mercy. Your boyfriend bit the tip of his glove, ripping it off and throwing it to the side, leaving his bare hand to slap dangerously close to your clit. "I'm glad... that you chose to stay faithful as well..." He said, giving a particularly violent thrust, which made you grunt between sobs. He pressed his uncovered face against your neck, nibbling on it as he continued to fuck you. "I didn't mean to test you, but hell...! I fucking love you."

He said smiling. Your faces were so close, he squeezed your waist. You felt his tongue lick a tear that ran down your cheek. He loves you alive and well, of course, despite his sadism. But, the thought of you cheating on him just to save yourself? He would kill you before you had the chance to do that. "Fuck." He bit his lip. "Such a good little fucktoy. Taking my cock like a champ. You're still as tight as the day I fucked you for the first time."

You closed your eyes, trying to find some semblance of sanity amidst the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that were running through your body at that moment.

"Aw, baby, look at me. Think of how good..." His boyfriend paused, moaning. "How good it feels now... There are no more secrets between us. Like it always should have been."

"You're a damn murderer... you lied to me...!" You snapped, biting your lip then to make a moan die in your throat. "And now you expect... me to forgive you–"

You were interrupted by a sudden movement, he turned you around again, without even making much effort, and put you on all fours. "Silence, now. For someone who was crying minutes ago, you're talking too much." He grunted, slapping your ass, rubbing his cock, still hard, against it. "Shut your pretty mouth, or I'll fuck the little hole you don't like."

He chuckled at the irritated noise you made before he slid his cock back into your entrance. "Now why don't we start over, and you thank me for being a good boyfriend and not opening your throat with a knife after that kick?"

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you as he hugs you waist, pressing his body against your back. The pain from his rough thrusts is intertwined with a sickening sense of pleasure, and the realization that he's truly capable of such violence sends shivers down your spine.

"Too... much..." You manage to choke out, your voice barely audible above the sound of your boyfriend's grunts and the creaking of the bed.

He seems to take pity on you, or perhaps he's simply enjoying watching you tremble and humiliate youself. Either way, he slow down a bit, but continues to pound into you, his grip on your hips tightening. "That's a good girl," he purrs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're learning your place." As he speaks, you feel his cock twitch inside you, and you know he's close to climax. "God, I can't even imagine what it's like to fuck your ass..."

Tears stream down your face as you try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much you're enjoying being used. But it's no use; the pleasure is too intense, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

Suddenly, he pulls out of you, and you feel cold and empty without him inside. Before you can protest, he flips you over onto your back and climbs on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head.

He leans down and captures your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and claiming you in the most intimate way possible. "You're so easy to play around with, like a doll, so easy for me to put you in any position." At the same time, he lines up his cock with your entrance and slams back inside, burying himself to the hilt in one movement. The pain from his grip on your wrists mixes with the pleasure of his cock hitting your sweet spot.

He let go of your wrists and reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly. "Tell me, have you ever let another man touch you like this?"

You shake your head frantically. "No..." You whimper.

He chuckles darkly, his hand sliding down to rub your clit. "Good... good fucking answer." he purrs, his fingers circling the sensitive nub. "Because if you ever let another man touch this tight little cunt, I'll fucking kill you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but wonder if he's serious. But the thought of him being jealous and possessive only turns you on more. And you hated yourself for it.

"Oh?" He mocks, giving your cunt a sharp slap. "Did you just get tighter? You fucking freak." Your boyfriend couldn't help but smile at his pretty girl.

"Y-You're imagining things..." You try to deny it, saving a shred of dignity that was still left, but it was just so hard, you can feel every inch of his cock as it slides in and out of your sore, sensitive flesh. 

He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and you cry out. "I don't have time to baby you," he growls, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force.

Right now, he was only concerned with his own orgasm. Maybe he himself was already tired of all that edging. You can feel your orgasm building, your walls clenching around his throbbing cock as he drives into you relentlessly. Just as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls out, leaving you empty and desperate, his cock spurting cum all over your pussy and stomach. It made you tremble just with the mere contact of his tip over your clit.

Even without having reached your orgasm, you were dizzy from all the stimulation and tired, without much strength to move. So you were expecting the same from him, but a few seconds after cumming, he was already moving again, making you groan. He moves down your body, his tongue tracing a path from your neck to your belly.

"Aw, my poor baby..." he coos, his breath hot against your skin. "You didn't get to cum, did you?"

You shake your head weakly, too exhausted to form words. He smiles at you, his eyes filled with a wicked gleam. You were already too tired to fight, and you just wanted to cum already, it didn't matter if you had to beg or cry for it.

You can feel the heat of his breath as he moves lower and lower, until he's positioned between your legs. He spreads them, exposing your sensitive, swollen clit. He takes a moment to admire his handiwork, the sight of your glistening pussy making his cock twitch with renewed interest

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "So desperate." He dips his head down and starts to lap at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. You moan, your hips bucking up against his face as he continues to tease you. He chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

He slips a finger into your pussy, pumping it in and out as he continues to suck on your clit. You can feel your orgasm building once again, your walls clenching around his finger as he works you closer to the edge.

Your boyfriend increases the pressure on your clit, his tongue flicking rapidly against the sensitive bundle of nerves, your body tensing as you prepare for the inevitable release. Your hand went to his hair, fingers tangling with his beautiful locks, he chuckled against your pussy, before going back to his work. You barely had time to warn him, your body shook in ecstasy as you felt yourself squirt. Your heart was racing and your vision was blurry, your chest rising and falling in search of air.

Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise as he feels your pussy clench and release around his finger, your juices gushing out and coating his chin. He pulls back, looking up at you with a mixture of shock and excitement on his face. His voice woke you up from your trance.

"Holy shit, did you just squirt?" he exclaims, his voice filled with awe and disbelief. "I've never seen you do that before!"

He grins at you, his face glistening with your juices, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride at the effect you've had on him. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning, his eyes sparkling with joy and anticipation. "That was so fucking hot!" he says, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "I want to see you do it again." He was already going back between her legs.

"No, no, no! Fuck, I am sensitive, you dumbass...!" Your mind barely processed what you said, and when you realized it, you didn't expect him to listen to you, but he did. With a sad exaggerated expression, but he obeyed, at least.

"Aw, but I was having so much fun." he pouts, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of sadness.

He crawls up your body, resting his head on your chest, his ears pressed against your heart. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, rising and falling with each beat of your heart.

"I'm sorry, baby..." he murmurs, his voice soft, but you knew it was just another one of his attempts at manipulation. You were already used to it enough to recognize it. "I just wanted to play around a bit, I didn't expect things to unfold this way."

"Be quiet or get out of here." You snapped, eyes closing. "You better kill me before I wake up with energy again, because you're going to pay for all this shit."

He faced you, his hand resting on your waist as he observed how upset you were. Which, to be fair, he should have expected. "Come on, baby," he murmured, as if he were pleading for you to talk to him, but it only sounded like mocking. "I made you cum, didn't I?"

When you didn't answer him, he continued. "We both know you'll forgive me before the morning, princess."

Of course he expected you'd let him get away with this. As you always did. But he didn't blame you—he would always find a way to manipulate you, because it suited him so much more.

"You'll be lucky if I even look you in the face after all this, let alone forgive you." You said and covered yourself with the blanket, pushing him away from you and laying with your back to him.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, having to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He knew you'd give in and forgive him... eventually.

"That's cute." He said, with a scoff. "You act like you have any choice." He said, standing up and picking up his clothes. He stared at his mask, wondering whether to take it or not, but smiled, deciding to leave it as a reminder for you.

[tasiawrites]

Kinktober Day 7: Stuck in A Wall - Micheal Myers

Micheal Myers x Black Fem Reader

it contains: reader is in her early 20s, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), very dubious consent (borderline non-con), creampie, mentions of death and murder etc

Enjoy!

This whole thing was ridiculous. Somehow, trying to escape the “shape” of Haddonfield you ended up in Micheal Myers's childhood home. To make matters worse you were stuck. You had attempted to climb out of a semi-barred window into the back yard but after getting about 40% of your body through a hole that logically no one should fit through, your costume got you stuck. Now there you were hanging halfway in and halfway out, scared for your life with the knowledge that Michael was behind you.

Tears welled in your eyes but you didn't let them fall. Maybe just maybe he didn't know you were there as yet. You felt something move behind you and that sliver of hope left. You were stuck and about to be murdered. Something cold touched your hip and you said your last prayers to the god that you may or may not have believed in. The tears flowed down your face silently. No amount of screaming would reasonably help you in the situation so you stayed quiet hoping he would make it quick.

Instead, you felt a puff of air against your pussy. All the small squirming of your body stopped as you tried to figure out what the actual fuck was going on. Another puff and all your thoughts came to a halt, he couldn't be? But the feeling of hands on your thighs spreading apart confirmed your suspicions. Honestly, you thought he was asexual the way he went around killing high school kids but it turns out he wasn't. 

The warmth of his palms led you to believe he was not wearing his usual gloves. They were large and rough. One gripped your cheek while the other rubbed up and down your slit so slowly it felt as if he were carrying out an experiment. It didn't take long for those wandering hands to find your clit and you squirmed. He rubbed it, hars only, but somehow it still felt good. It was embarrassing being pleasured by a serial killer while being stuck in a window. Not seeing what he was doing made the whole experience both thrilling and terrifying. 

The hands left you and your entire body tensed up once more. That was until you felt something else on you. It was wet thick and slimy. Micheal was licking you. He traced you slowly, saving the taste as you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter.  The hornier you got the more he licked you. His tongue found purchase on your clit and your entire body twitched. It felt like an electric current ran down your body as he focused on playing with your nub.

Everything felt so intense because you could not see anything. You felt him pull away once more. You couldn't hear anything through the walls but you felt when he stepped closer to you. Something round poking at your entrance. His hands spread you apart as he fed his cock into you. Inch by inch he spread you open. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as he opened you up. The only thing that ran through your head was how big he was. 

You could feel him in your guts, it felt like he wasnt stopping. He stopped moving and you breathed a sigh of releif, you were stuffed to the brim. Just as slow as he fed himself into you he pulled out until it was just his tip left in you. Then in a ay you never expected he pushed himself into you, hard. He began fucking you roughly. You could feel him in every rideg inside you. He was carving you out to fit himself.

He kept going at it hard and you could feel bruises start to form where you were stuck. It's not like he cared since he just kept going. You were starting to feel good. To enjoy the rough fucking you were receiving from the shape of Haddonfield. The feeling of your slick running down your thighs made you hang your head in shame

Suddenly Michael hit something in you and you let out a wheeze. There was a spasm inside you where you couldn't tell if your body wanted to suck him in or push him out. Micheal paused his movements and started angling himself to hit that one spot over and over again. Unconsciously though he began fucking something else inside you. The tip of his dick was hitting your cervix dead on. “W-wait,” you cried, the first conscious words escaping your mouth since you got stuck. You tried to pull away from the feeling of him trying to break into your womb.

It didn't work, instead, he pulled you into him thrusting so hard you knew that if you ever survived this you would be on bed rest for days. Scarily you could feel yourself getting worked up. You could feel the coil in you winding up. It was tightening and so were you. Just by the way his balls were slapping against your clit with every thrust you knew you were making a mess; and you hadn't even cum yet. 

You weren't sure how much longer you could hold up. Then Michael started doing something you never expected. His fingers flicked your clit. Over and over he rubbed small circles into the bundle of nerves. An unholy moan escaped your lips after holding them in for the entire time. Your thighs began to shake as the slowly tightening coil began to release. The entirety of your body tensed as your pussy pulsed around his shaft. You let out a squeal as you squirted all over. Somehow Micheal kept going, even as your insides pulsed, tightened, and sucked and sprayed all over him.

Your body shuddered from overstimulation as he kept going. It didn't take long for Michael to come too. A few rouch thrusts and the man shoved himself as deep as he possibly could. You felt every spurt of cum fill your already over-stuffed walls. It slid down your thighs even as Michael was still inside you. Then as abruptly as it began, Micheal pulled out.

It had been almost an hour, by your probably incorrect account of time, since you were left hanging. The cum had stopped leaking out of you over thirty minutes ago and hanging there post-sex felt extremely shameful when you thought about who could possibly find you. All of a sudden you felt tugging on your lower half. After a few tries you popped free. As you let your eyes adjust, you looked up to see the shape of Haddonfield looking down at you. You felt something poking your back. Looks like he's back for round two.

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

I still don't know what's going on, tell me if I missed anything or just give me feedback in general!

I know I haven't posted the past few days but I'll get to them soon. see you tomorrow tho

Masterlist

[anundyingfidelity]

PRIMAL — Weapon X!Logan

Summary: You are right where he wants and won't escape the subject's twisted mind.

Warnings: heavy non-con smut, dark stuff, mentions of being tortured, female!reader. Read at your own risk tbh, thank you if you do though. Someone pls write more Weapon X! Logan, I'm going crazy at this point.

GEN MASTERLIST!

He has you exactly where he wants. Between the concrete and his intimidating aura. Your eyes are glossy, chest going up and down, ready to be the next victim. His last one.

You study the Weapon X subject one more time. He’s broad and muscular, strong frame with adamantium bones, claws out his knuckles as he walks to you, full in his naked glory. Stains of blood start to dry off on his chest, abdomen and shoulders. And even though in other circumstances he would make a good-looking man, he is far from being one now.

He is not human anymore, he is an animal. And you had been part of the experiments since the beginning. For some reason, he had saved you last from all the personnel of the base. A twisted and sick choice.

Logan takes the last two steps towards you, closing the distance. He can smell your fear, sense the shaking of your whole body, the beating of your heart… He had been watching you, paying special attention to you each time he could. Your voice, your silhouette, your job, your routines around the lab. Everything you did he had learned.

And now, after killing and dismantling the place, leaving a horrid trade of bodies and red around, he feels like finishing everything with you.

He doesn’t know your name, he just knows you were part of them and he fucking hates it.

How could such a pretty thing like you could bear torturing a lost soul like him? He growls at the thought, leaning until his nose is almost touching yours.

You gasp loud, the echoes of your breathing filling the empty place. Your eyes shut and you feel tears running down your cheek.

“Logan…”

He replies with a deep groan again, taking in the scent of your neck and the salty sweat covering your skin. Oh and how he loves the reactions of your body as he traces his way to the shell of your ear with his nose.

“Please… You- you’re not like this…”

Begging would do nothing, he knows it. You keep begging and begging, calling his name as he takes in the features of your face, eyes barely opening. And when you cross glances, besides the fear on your gaze, he can sense something else building on you: arousal. It’s not the first time he’s sensed it on you, but sure he will take out his own suffering and frustrations on that.

“Logan…”

Claws come close, cutting your blouse and bra off. He rips the fabric with his hands before your trousers and panties come off the same way. You squirm and cry, but don’t make any effort on pushing him away because you know he would win the same. He’s massive, stronger, and dangerous. He’s a weapon you helped to build, and compared to him, you are nothing.

Probably he will get vengeance by tearing you apart, forcing you on the smudged, cold floor. He’s all over you, not quite giving kisses but bruises with his lips and teeth on your neck, biting on your skin, legs wide as he feels your wet cunt against his hard cock.

You cry his name, more like a moan, when he forces himself inside your tight walls without any preparation. He’s animalistic, erratic, growling, almost howling, like a dog in heat.

The scratch of your nails do nothing. He pounds harder into your abused cunt, tearing an orgasm out of you. He spills himself in seconds, feeling your walls around him sucking him completely, and he continues fucking you over and over his own high, increasing the sensitive feeling between your legs. And just as you think Logan is over by how quick he keeps rutting on you, hips making an obscene noise every time he buries balls deep inside your cunt, it feels like he goes faster, harder, that it becomes too much and you cling into him with nails and loud whimpers, sore throat crying into the void.

He comes a second time with a deep moan, filling you up once again and you do nothing but take it. Slowly, he pumps his white seed into you until he fully stops inside your abused, needy pussy.

The primitive need to kill now is replaced with a more primal urge, and you would be perfect for that from now on.