#worried he might be too nice to rape me but maybe if i get drunk enough he wont be able to resist lol

[crybabyfucktoy]

this guy wants to come hangout (and fuck me) tmrw... I can't decide if I wanna just tell him I like being forced or if I should get super drunk and deny him when he tries something to see if he'll just rape me idk🤔

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 10

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 10

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9

Part 10

Hot on your trails, Billy followed you to the women’s bathroom. When the bathroom attendant chastised him for barging in there, he shot her an irritated glance. “You want to help her puke?” Billy asked pointedly as you ran to the toilet. The attendant put her hands up in the air and moved back, leaving him to take care of you. He pulled your hair back, holding the strands away from your face while you retched.

You groaned, sounding like you were dying.

“I know. It sucks. Just let it out. You’ll feel better,” he consoled, rubbing your back.

“Didn’t… even…drink… so… much… want… to… die…”

He chuckled.

“I’m sorry… don’t want you to see me like this…”

“I’ve seen worse,” Billy assured. Serving as long as he had with the guys from his unit, puke was nothing new to him. He flushed the toilet using his foot after you’d finally stopped gagging. After he helped you to the sink and you washed your face and hands thoroughly, he patted your face dry with napkins. There were a bunch of supplies on one corner of the table. Spotting the mouthwash, Billy picked up the bottle, handing the attendant a $50 bill, and brought it to you. You rinsed your mouth while he studied your reflection in the mirror. “You okay?”

You nodded your head ‘yes’, almost like a child. You were usually so calm and collected around him that it was strange to see you ruffled like this. Actually, it was adorable.

When he saw you close your eyes, he snaked his hand around your waist in case you lost your balance again.

“I want to go home,” you mumbled, turning around in his arms.

“I’ll take you.”

Your eyes were wet and glassy, filled with sleep. You gazed up at him with the dopiest expression on your face and if you hadn’t just puked, he would have kissed you. He was used to feeling all kinds of emotions when it came to you, lust, anger, frustration and so much more, but this was the first time he felt a pang of tenderness towards you and he didn’t know what to make of it. This wasn’t something he was familiar with at all.

“I have to tell Davina. She’ll worry.”

Smoothing your hair, he tucked in a loose strand behind your ear. “Want to go say bye?”

You nodded your head.

Billy held you in his arms as he led you back upstairs to the club, stopping at one of the bars to grab water for you. He spotted Davina sitting at the booth, talking to some guy, but she stood up immediately when she caught sight of him and you. Billy noted the immediate disapproval on her face. Frankly he didn’t give a fuck about what your friends thought of him but he knew how close you were to Davina. Her opinion mattered to you, and so he had to play nice and learn to get along with her.

Davina stood up and met Billy and you halfway, her eyes full of concern. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“I think I’m done,” you sighed. “I want to go home.”

“I’ll go with you,” Davina offered. “Let me just grab Kiran from the dance floor-”

“No, you stay. Have fun with your cute guy.”

Billy scowled. Apparently you weren’t so drunk that you didn’t notice other guys. “I’ll take her home,” he said, tightening his grip around your waist.

Davina cast him a suspicious glance before shifting his attention back to you. “You don’t have to go with him. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m not going to rape her when she’s asleep if that’s what you’re worried about,” he snapped, trying - and failing - to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“He won’t, he’s not like that,” you assured, shaking your head vigorously.

So you were angry enough to block him but at least you still trusted him. That was something, he supposed. “Can I take her home now? Or are we gonna keep discussing if I’m a rapist?”

You turned to look up at him, your intoxicated eyes pleading with him. “Can we leave?”

Davina grabbed his elbow, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you dare touch her when she’s wasted!”

“I won’t. Unless she begs me to,” he smirked, purposely goading your friend. Even though he had no intention of taking advantage of you when you were hammered, he felt no need to justify his motives or actions to another person. Before Davina pissed him off any further, he started leading you out of the club. You were resting your head on his chest while he retrieved your jacket from coat check. When he wrapped the coat around you, you snuggled into the fabric and moved away from him.

It was freezing cold outside and you started shivering. Immediately he pressed you flush against him to keep you warm. As the two of you walked down the street, his eyes fell on the very high heels you were wearing. “You okay to walk on those? My car is a block away.”

“Do you like my shoes?”

He smiled, indulging you. “They’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Like you!”

“Did you just compare me to your shoes?”

“As if,” you snickered, your voice simultaneously naughty and sweet. “My shoes mean a lot more to me than you.”

“Bitch!” he scoffed.

As you giggled in response, his attention was drawn to the low-cut neckline of your outfit beneath your open coat. God, your tits looked absolutely amazing tonight. He was struck by the memory of the time he’d made you come by simply sucking on your nipples, teasing them with his tongue, and you had spent the entire time moaning underneath him. You fucking loved it almost as much as when he ate you out. Billy gave himself a mental shake, telling himself to snap out of it. “How come you never dress like this when we go out?” he asked, hoping for a distraction.

The smile on your face disappeared, you didn’t say anything. You were quiet, too quiet. He didn’t like it when you were all in your head with your thoughts, shutting yourself off to him. The last time you did that, you stormed out of his life and blocked him. Fuck if he was going to let you do that again. Reaching for your hand, he laced his fingers through yours.

“We never went out. All we ever did was have sex.”

He flashed a cocky smile. “Oh, yeah.” He squeezed your hand. “I miss that.”

“What? Sex?” You sniggered. “It can’t have been that long. When was the last time you slept with someone?”

“A week ago, with you.” He felt your body tense at his answer. “And then you told me to fuck off and stopped taking my calls.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. “Guess it wasn’t as great for you as it was me.”

You didn’t respond, quiet again, and he didn’t feel like pressing the matter in case you got angry.

Finally reaching his car, he opened it remotely. “Y/N, look at me.” You turned to him, staring up at him all doe-eyed again. “You can’t get sick in my car.” He palmed your face, trying to impress upon you the importance of his words. The Wraith was the first thing he’d bought when he finally started earning enough money and it meant the world to him. Next to Anvil, it was his most treasured possession. “Okay?”

You glanced at the car, exhaling a heavy sigh. “I should call an Uber.”

“No, I’m taking you home. You just can’t puke in my car.”

You turned back to him, frowning. “But I might and I don’t want to ruin it.” You pulled out your phone. “I’ll just call-”

He snatched the phone away from you, sliding it stealthily inside his jacket pocket. “Fine. Don’t worry about it. I can get it cleaned.” He walked to the passenger side and held the door open for you. Seeing how hesitant and worried you appeared, Billy regretted broaching the subject in the first place. “Hey,” he stroked your right cheek. “It’s not a big deal, I swear.” He noticed you swaying on your feet without his support and he moved to help you get in the car, covering the top of your head so you didn’t hit it against the roof.

A few minutes later he’d maneuvered the car out of the parking space and was on his way to your place.

Casting you a side-long glance, he noticed you had removed your jacket, which now lay bunched around your waist, and your head was leaned back against the passenger seat. Your eyes were closed, but he knew you weren’t asleep.

“You keep staring at me,” you finally spoke, turning slightly to look at him.

Billy’s eyes trailed down to your breasts again and he felt that familiar ache in his cock. “Maybe I miss you.”

Your mouth parted slightly, like you were contemplating what to say next. “Liar.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I am lying. I don’t miss your voice, your body, your smell, your laugh.” Maintaining a steady tone, he stared straight ahead. “I don’t miss the taste of your sweet cunt, or the filthy moans out of your mouth when I’m sucking your clit. I don’t miss how good you feel when I’m inside you and you’re begging me to fuck you harder.” Coming to a stop at a red light, he shifted his attention to you. Your breathing was shallow, your piercing gaze locked with his. “I don’t miss how you always razz me, how snarky you are, how you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking. I hate when you come into a room and put on your charming act, everyone just gravitates towards you like you’re a fucking ray of sunshine or something. I hate how fucking brilliant you are, how smart. Your mind doesn’t fascinate me at all, and I don’t spend any of my fucking time thinking about what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

Billy noticed how you swallowed thickly, how you were squeezing your thighs together. Your skin was flushed, your breaths coming out in shallow spurts.

“I don’t want you. I don’t like you. I don’t miss you,” he murmured, his voice rasp with lust.

His words had the desired effect. You couldn’t take it anymore. Desperate to get off, your hand slipped between your thighs and you started rubbing yourself.

“Take off your fucking pants,” he growled. “I want to see your pussy. Want to see how wet you are.”

“Can’t… one-piece…”

As frustrated as he was at not being able to do what he wanted, he was still mesmerized by what you were doing to yourself. Your quiet moans had grown louder, more desperate. It was heaven watching you come undone. It was also sheer hell because he couldn’t fuck you himself.

As if reading his mind, you shifted closer, your body facing him. His eyes drifted down to your breasts again, barely covered, and he reached out to touch them. His fingers delved beneath the fabric of your top to tweak your nipples, playing with them, caressing them, until they were hardened nubs, ready to be sucked and licked by him. His mouth watered at the sight of your puckered nipples. God, he was so fucking hard.

Then you took his hand and guided it down to your cunt, urging him to play with you. He felt how wet you were through your clothes, you were so fucking turned on. He rubbed your pussy expertly, tapping and teasing your clit, and the guttural moans that were coming from your mouth only aroused him more. With you, even dry humping was hot.

It only took a few more seconds for you to come, and when you did you were all soft murmurs and tender sighs and it took everything he had not to pull you onto his lap and fuck you right then and there.

His hand crept up to your breast, resting over your heart as you slowly returned to the world. When you opened your eyes again to look at him, they were brimming with emotions. “Thank you.”

He smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“I owe you a blow job.”

His eyebrow quirked up. “Suck me off because you want to, not because you think you owe me.”

The innocence displayed in your smile completely belied your wicked words. “I like sucking you off.”

His hand reached out to play with your hair. “Good.” He winked at you. “Feel free to start any second now.”

“I’m not blowing you when you’re driving! I want to get home alive.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, pouting.

You simply smirked in response.

Soon, a comfortable quiet fell over the two of you which was an unusual experience for Billy. Years of working recon meant waiting, watching, studying the enemy, the atmosphere charged and tense before chaos struck and the inevitable happened. But this was different. The tension was sexual, the dread non-existent. There was just him and you, and it was perfect.

Your phone buzzed in the inside pocket of his jacket, which made him wonder if the loser you’d been talking to was now calling you. Fucker really had no game if he was calling you so quickly. Eager prick.

“Did you mean it?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“What you said in the club. About killing the guy who was hitting on me.”

Apparently you could read his thoughts now. “Every fucking word.”

You sat up, your eyes fiery and volatile. “You have no right to interfere in my life, Billy.”

“I have every right.”

“How would you feel if I started harassing you about the women you sleep with? What if I went all psycho on them?”

He turned into the parking lot of your building and parked his car at a visitor’s spot. After unbuckling his belt, he turned to you, fisting the back of your head. Your breath hitched in your throat, like you weren’t prepared for his close proximity. “Ask me, Y/N. Ask me how many women I’m fucking.” He waited for you to speak, to ask the question, but, instinctively, he knew you wouldn’t. “You’re not going to ask me, because the truth scares you.”

“Of course it scares me!” you snapped. “I have no idea if you’re using condoms with these other women, if you’re exposing me to god knows what.”

Your defensive tone meant he was getting close to the truth. His fingers started playing with your right ear. “If I’m only fucking you, and I only want you, then you can’t use me as an excuse to run from us anymore. Terrifying, isn’t it?”

Fear flashed across your face, all your emotions on display for him to read.

Billy leaned back and winked at you, smiling smugly. Jackpot.

Part 11

A/N - Thank you so much for your continued support! I hope you guys are still reading and enjoying the fic. As always, thank you for the likes, reblogs, the comments that I cherish so much and your asks/messages. If you’d like to be add/removed from the tag list, please drop me a note.

Tag List:

@yourfavoritefruitybitch @voyevoda-thejoy @adreamemporium @queenmalhinewahine  @gubleryum @galaxyjane  @xceafh @maralisa124 @tomhollandisabae @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lil-baby-nor @all-art-is-quite-useless  @tanyaherondale  @nashibirne  @dour-trash  @thetallassgirl @athenamikaelson  @agent-jbarnes  @primadonnasdream  @aleksanderwh0r3  @elisemockingbird @nihilismworld @archisur @nemesis729  @lysawayne @kaqua @ladyblablabla @lemasonda @advictedtohim @24-martie   @tarkanelima-blog @shinebrightlikeafanbase  @krystal-clear1 @damalseer @dontjinx-it @darkishx   @wanderlusting-about-life @thatguppienamedbae @happypepperdog @bat-revival  @sassygirl25  @consulting--heroes  @the-celestial-kitsune  @mackaywhore  @ablxssm @competitive-dust @red-head011 @exo-1204 @sunsetenigma @millieb-3199 @chatnain @licensedcheek @tinkertailor1212 @vertesalope @safetyhtom @acourtofglassandroses @eliwinchester-barnes @finnismyoriginalsin @weallhaveadestiny   @beananacake @beauty-and-the-beast97 @smurfelle  @fire-treasure-iii  @charly-0  @kestrafagnor  @pigwidgeonxo  @damagelove  @allegra-writes @pensandthings  @jad3djay  @batshitbarnes  @kashimayuki  @secretsthathauntus @odetostep  @awesome-eccia    @mackaywhore  @stories-you-wont-hear  @vvsdiamond28 @supernaturalcat7 @arieltwvdtohamflash   @iknownoqueenbutthequeeninme  @devs-stufff  @ticosas  @moodacheeks @myakai13  @carlywhomever  @fvckthisbxtchup  @its-evita-here @papapapadumb  @talesfrommycell  @bat-luna-cat    @fific7   @elluvians @dailydoseofchoices  @everythinghappens-love  @papapapadumb  @mylife-love-and-other-things  @bigcreatorwombatdreamer  @ancientbeing10  @natty2245  @stuckysavedmylive  @kasslucilfer  @simp-for-ben-barners   @originaldeputycalzoneegg  @bdffkierenwalker  @kimoranelson03  @sadbi-hours

Gif Credit: @bilyrusso

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Extracurricular

Warnings: noncon/rape; drinking/drunkenness.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (Professor) Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: You go out to unwind from your schoolwork but can’t seem to escape a certain professor’s attention.

Note: Pinched nerve don’t care. I’ve written this as I’m laying on a heating pad and praying for absolution. Hope y’all enjoy because by the time this goes up I’ll be at work and hating life.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Midterms were finally over. It had been a long two weeks; all nighters, energy drinks, and stress headaches. Now you were ready to forget it all in a single night.

Your dress was a little too short and a little too tight. A pink number with large sequins. It looked straight out of the nineties; an appropriate choice for your girls’ night. A downtown club was hosting a ladies night with a retro theme and you felt like the spice girl you’d once idolized. And a little buzzed.

Lexi had invited you along with her roommates, Cece and Rima, to dance off the dread of your results. Study had been half the battle, it was still to see if it had done you any good. In your Twentieth Century Lit class, you were certain you’d fallen on your face. Figuratively, though you had done so literally your first day. It had set a precedent for your apparent cluelessness.

You followed the girls inside after your hand was stamped and the flashing lights mingled with the thumping music and filled your body. You were enlivened by the bodies already dancing and the voice that underlined the melody. A single pre-drink and you were already feeling tomorrow’s hangover.

You joined the chaos of the dance floor as Lexi searched her purse and came out victorious with a handful of bills. “First rounds on me!” She sang, “How about it girls? You ready for more?”

“Holy shit, Lex,” Cece giggled, “Another night with the sugar daddy?”

“Don’t call him that,” Lexi retorted. 

“Well, what would you call him?” Rima countered. “You fuck him, he gives you money.”

“Shut up before I shut you up!’ Lexi whined.

“Hey, both of you,” you warned and grabbed Lexi’s hand, “And stop waving that around.”

“Oh thank youuuu,” she clung to you, “I’ll have a vodka soda.”

“Wha-- no.”

“Do they have whiteclaw?” Rima asked.

“Ew. don’t,” Cece wrinkled her nose, “I’ll have a vodka too.”

“Fine, vodka cran!” Rima nearly hollered. The girls must have started well before you showed up to their dorm.

You huffed and took the fistful of bills. You sidled through the crowd of pairs and groups writhing and waving to the music. Another drink would make you less aware. 

You stepped up to the bar and found yourself nearly bowled over by another patron as she stumbled away with her drink. You knocked the arm of a man leaned against the bar top and turned to apologize.

“Oop, sorry, I didn’t--” You froze and blinked several times in disbelief. The familiar face grinned in recognition. “Professor Drysdale? What are you--”

“I didn’t know it was ladies night,” he spoke over the music, “Had my last exam and thought I’d unwind but--” He looked around. “I didn’t take you for the club type.”

You squirmed as his eyes strayed from your face and you got closer to the bar. “Well, not every night,” you chuckled. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he raised his hand and waved to the bartender. “Took me a moment, to be honest.”

“Ahh,” you watched the bartender near and he bent to hear your order. You got yourself a gin after your last sour experience with vodka.

You watched the bartender work, unsure of what to say to your unexpected company. His remark stuck in your head. You often sat in his class in your favourite loose cardigan or a sweat with fraying cuffs. Massachusetts was growing colder by the day and only the alcohol and your lack of a damn kept you warm that night.

“So, I guess you’re here with friends,” he said.

“Yeah, just a few of us.” You said as you rubbed your sweaty fingers on the bills. The bartender pushed your drink across the bar but Professor Drysdale was quicker than you as he held out a fifty.

“My treat.” He said.

“Oh no,” you tried to grab his hand but he waved it at the bartender again. “You don’t need to--”

“Come on. Save your money. You college kids need all you can get,” he insisted.

You smiled awkwardly and carefully took two cups in each hand. You lifted them as he watched you. You peeked over at him and found his eyes glued to you.

“Thank you, professor,” you said.

“Ransom,” he corrected you, “I’m not much of a dancer… but I don’t mind the music. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again.”

“Maybe.” You turned and narrowly missed another collision. 

You followed the maze of bodies back to your group and doled out the drink. Your fingers were left sticky with soda and you took a deep gulp of your own. You tried not to think of the odd encounter with your professor. It wasn’t too unusual you spotted the occasional faculty downtown; students often stuck to the campus bar. Even so, you were surprised at his interest. In class, he barely seemed to recall your name, even if you were the only one who raised your hand. Well, maybe he had also indulged a little too much.

You forgot your paranoia as soon as you finished your drink. You set aside the plastic cup and lost yourself in TLCs greatest hit. You’d regret it in the morning when it mattered.

🥂

After the second drink, came the third, the fourth, and fifth that tasted more like a double. The lights blurred in your vision and the music made your head swell delightfully. 

The night had worn on and as a slow R&B tune came on, you weren’t quite sure what to do. Cece had long ago found a guy to hang off and Rima and Lexi were all too happy to start dancing with each other. You hiccupped and contemplated a break against the wall. 

You were startled as you felt a hand on your back and kept from your retreat.

“Need a partner?” Ransom’s voice flooded into your veins like the alcohol; warm and disorienting. 

“Huh, oh, no, it’s--” You giggled bashfully. “That’s fine.”

“Come on,” he pulled you against him, your back to his front, “Wasn’t too long ago I was out here with all the coeds.”

“Professor--”

“Ransom,” he purred in your ear. “I like this song.”

“I don’t think--”

“Don’t think then,” he said sharply as his arm snaked around you and urged you closer. He leaned in and spoke in your ear. “Seeing your ass in that dress makes me wonder why you ever cover it up.”

“Pr--Ransom, please, I--”

“It’s just a dance, sweetie,” he grinded into you and you felt a twitch in his pants. “Just like that.”

He guided your drunken body against his as his fingers danced along the hem of your dress. The music swept you up as you dizzily surrendered to him. Behind the haze, you knew it was wrong, but you knew you were strong enough to resist. And part of you, didn’t believe your professor was groping you.

“Mmm, you’re so sweet,” he groaned, “That’s it,” he rubbed his crotch against you, “Let me feel that ass.”

“Professor,” you breathed as one his hands caressed your thigh, “You shouldn’t--”

“Wish you dressed like this in class.” He slithered, “Nice little short skirt. You can sit in the front row and give me a little peek.”

“Stop,” you hissed as your vision swam and panic rose in your chest, the gin making you unsteady and uncertain, “Please.”

“Please,” he echoed, “I love to hear you beg me, sweetie.”

“I-I-I--” you stuttered stupidly and finally tore away from him. “I have to pee.”

Your ankle bent in your heel and you hurried past him. You nearly fell as you batted away his hand and fled to the restroom. You stopped by the doorway at the edge of the floor and looked back. Ransom watched you with head tilted and a smirk on his lips, unbothered by the drunk horde around him. You turned and quickly shielded yourself with the door.

You took a breath and ambled forward to stare at yourself in the mirror. Were you that drunk or was your professor really trying to get in your pants?

🥂

When you returned to the girls, Ransom was gone. You didn’t look around for him much, afraid you might find him. You finally tore Cece away from her partner as Lexi began to lean heavily. You took her under the arm and realised that every one of you were a mess. It would be a parade of fools trying to get home.

You got your jackets from the check and went out into the bitter cold. You shivered as you left Lexi to hang off Rima and you swayed as you hailed a cab. A yellow taxi pulled up and you opened the door as you ushered the rest of the girls in. A hand rested beside yours atop the door.

“Looks like there’s no room for you,” Ransom said and you flinched as you looked at him.

“I can get in the front,” you argued weakly.

“Ride with me.” He raised his hand to call another cab, “You don’t wanna overcrowd the car.”

“No, I can--”

“It’s cold!” Cece pulled the door from your grasp and it slammed, nearly knocking you over. “Driver, Western Building on campus.”

“Wait--” The driver pulled away without pause and you stumbled off the curb.

Ransom caught you and pulled you back up. He wrapped his arm around you as another taxi appeared.

“You’re pretty fucked up, sweetie, I can’t have you riding alone,” he opened the door and bent to usher you inside. You struggled but not much, hauling yourself across the seat as he followed closely. He gave an address you didn’t recognize as he shut the door.

“What-- where--” You touched your forehead as you leaned back against the seat. “Professor--”

“I like how you call me that,” he reached over and rested his hand on your leg, “Don’t worry, sweetie, better you come with me than some creep.”

You grabbed his hand and tried to push it away but it didn’t budge. He squeezed your thigh and got closer. His other arm went around your shoulder and drew you against him.

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re tired. Just close your eyes.” He hummed. “I’ll get you back safe.”

You shook your head but your eyelids drooped against your will. The dancing, the gin, the weeks of sleep deprivation piled atop you and dragged you into a blurred stupor. You felt detached from the world as it passed outside the car windows and suddenly a door opened and closed. Your body was moving but not of your own volition. 

Your vision cleared for a moment and you looked up at a large house with immense windows. You blinked and you were inside. You sat for a moment as Ransom moved around and you were lifted up. You were cradled in his arms as he carried up a flight of stairs and through the unfamiliar hallway. You bounced atop a mattress with a jolt.

“Wha--” you quivered and tried to sit up. Your head spun as your lashes fluttered.

You sat dumbly, barely able to hold yourself up on shaky arms as Ransom undressed. You babbled as he revealed his muscled chest and thick arms. He was entirely unlike the first, and only boy, you’d been with. He was a man.

“I’m drunk…” you slurred, “I can’t… you’re my--my--”

“That’s right,” he reached into his jeans pocket, his fly open, “I’m your professor,” he pulled out his phone and neared. He nudged you so that you fell onto your back and pushed your legs apart. You looked up at him as he snapped photos of you. You raised your hand to try to hide yourself. “If anyone were to find out you tried to seduce me, and for a better grade, you’ll be expelled. A star scholar like you, untouchable for any university in the country. Pity.”

“You can’t.” You murmured as you closed your legs and tried to sit up but found it almost impossible. “You…”

“I will and if you try to blow the whistle, I’ll do it first and I’ll be a whole lot more convincing than the girl everyone saw piss drunk tonight.” He sneered, “Now open those legs for me, sweetie.”

You didn’t move. You hugged yourself with your arms as you were caught in a heavy tide. You were terrified, worse; helpless. You listened to the rustle of his clothing and the mattress dipped by your feet. 

His hands began at your ankles and glided up to your knees. He pushed your legs apart as you held them together. You were forced to relent as he pinched you viciously and your muscles quaked. He moved between your legs and rubbed your thighs as your skirt rode up. He pressed two fingers along the crotch of your panties.

“What’s the point of these in a dress like that, huh?” He began to tease you through the fabric, “What’s the matter, sweetie? You scared?” He slowly pulled aside your panties and touched your folds, “Am I your first?”

You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You whimpered as he flicked your clit.

“Maybe not your first but definitely the best,” he purred, “Ah, ah, you’re already wet. Kept you waiting all night, didn’t I?”

“Please, I don’t want to--”

“Shhh,” his fingers slipped down to your entrance and he traced it carefully, “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you want,” he poked his finger inside of you, “But your body does.” He added another and glided in and out of your easily. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

“P-p-pl--” Your voice fizzled as he curled his fingers and pressed the hell of his hand to your clit.

Your eyes rolled back and your eyelids shut. You were lost in a daze of pleasure and confusion. You were trapped but that coil winding inside you didn’t want to escape. The knot of nerves tangling tighter and tighter overpowered your fear and had you bracing the mattress. Your legs bent without a thought and your back arched. Ransom hummed as he guided your body closer to the edge.

Your nails curled into the duvet and your toes clenched. You tried to breathe, the taste of gin still on your tongue, and cried out instead. You shook as you came but it didn’t feel like your body. You felt as if you were floating above as you were used by this man. Your legs went limp and slid straight as you panted wildly and the world was specks of light as you opened your eyes.

“Teacher’s pet, aren’t you?” He taunted. “You always have the answers.”

You focused on Ransom as the room remained a fog behind him. A halo seemed to limn his figure as he drew his hand from your cunt and licked his fingers. He delighted in the taste and planted his hands on the bed and bent over you.

“That smug little smile when you’re right. You’re always right.” He hissed. “I had girls like you in my classes. Always thought they needed a good fuck.”

You touched his chest and pushed pathetically. He chuckled as his nose brushed yours.

“You know, when you bend over to get a pen from your bag, I can see straight down your shirt,” he winked, “It makes me wanna bend you over myself. You know how hard it is to teach when you’ve got me all riled up?”

“I didn’t-- Never…” you murmured, your head lolling as you found it hard to follow his words, hard to keep from drifting away entirely.

“I was going to wait until the break… Tonight was unexpected but not unwanted,” he uttered as he reached between your bodies. He dragged his tip along your folds. “You should know what you do to me.”

He stopped at your entrance and slowly pushed inside. Your mouth formed an O and he groaned with each inch. His arm came back up and hooked under your shoulder as he sank to his limit. You moaned at how full you were. Your walls hugged him and you grasped his shoulder as you tried to pull away from him. 

He grabbed your jaw and held your head straight as he glared down at you and jerked his hips.

“That’s all you, sweetie,” he muttered, “Does it hurt you like it hurts me?”

He began to thrust and your legs bent around him as you tried to ease the pain. Since your regrettable high school sweetheart, you hadn’t done anything more than some foreplay and that had been shameful, if not forgettable. You closed your eyes, your head swirled and your body bounced against the bed as the darkness embraced you.

When you opened your eyes next, your head hung to the side as Ransom held himself over you, arms straight as he rutted. His gaze clung to the joining of your bodies and the slick noise of it. His hair dangled down from his head as he watched himself fuck you, slamming harder and faster each time as if driven by the sight.

You winced and let out a moan. It hurt, delightfully so, but in the back of your alcohol-laced mind, you knew it was wrong.

He lowered himself slowly, bending to take your nipple in his mouth and suckle as he continued to rock against you. His thrusts grew sharper as his groans sent a rumble through your chest. Your thighs tingled and your core thrummed as you were overcome by your drunken ecstasy.

Your voice filled the room as you came again and you didn’t realise it was yours. Ransom drew back and sat up as he lifted your pelvis, crashing into you as hard as he could as he bared his teeth. His eyes were smoky as he grunted and his motion turned frantic.

“I’m gonna- ahhh,” he took several long thrusts as he flooded you with his orgasm. 

He kept going until the sensation made him spasm and he hung his head. He reached down to spread your cunt and admired it as he slowly slid out. As his cum leaked from you, he scooped it up with his fingers and pushed it back in, spreading the rest along your folds.

“Shit,” he said as he grazed your thighs with his nails, your eyes closed and consciousness fading with his voice, “Such a good girl…”

🥂

You felt as if you were buried in sand when you woke up. The world was too bright and yet too dull. The night before was blank, a void, and your surroundings were a greater mystery. The framed manuscripts, the antique side table with a twisted vase atop it, the pristine white walls. You groaned as every move made your head throb.

You rolled onto your back and gurgled. Your stomach stirred and you struggled to keep it from erupting. You turned your head slowly as your hand felt along the arm beside you. Ransom Drysdale, your Lit professor, watched you as you stared back confused. His bare torso made your cheeks burn and the dress bunched up around your waist added to your embarrassment. How had this happened?

“What-- Professor--”

“If I spank you, would you scream that for me? ‘Professor’?” He mocked.

“I don’t--” You sat up and it sent a strike of pain down the back of your skill, “What happened? How--”

“Do you want to see the pictures?” He sat up and his hand tickled along your back. “I think you might be able to guess without them.”

You blinked at him and drew away from his touch. You turned your legs over the side of the bed and took a breath before you stood. You pulled your dress up over your arms and tugged the skirt back down as you searched for your panties.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked.

“I have to get… back to campus,” you gripped your head. “Where’s my purse?”

“Relax,” he cooed, “I’ll drive you back…” You heard him stand and turned as he approached you, naked. “But I think that we should get cleaned up first.”

“I--We--”

“A nice hot shower,” he licked his lips and leaned in, “Or do you like walking around with me all down your leg?”

You reeled and your stomach churned. You covered your mouth and shoved him away. You ran for the small door on the other side of the room and thankfully, found a toilet within. You wretched into the bowl until your body ached. You sensed his shadow behind you.

“You just make sure you wash your mouth out, sweetie,” he stepped past you and cranked the shower on, “I didn’t get a chance to play with that yet.”

[palbabor-writes]

yan Shigaraki pt. iii

Also known as: MOMMY KINK 

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only, dubcon, mentions of rape, bondage, drugging, kidnapping, blow jobs, cunniliginus, vaginal fingering, mind break, manipulation, prostate milking, switching, mommy kink, DARK FIC 

Word Count: 9307 

Notes: back y’all. this one focuses on that mommy kink everyone has been requesting, so, uh, come get your juice. 

this fic is dedicated to & beta edited by @kugutsuu​. i am but a humble acolyte at her shrine, so if you wanna see some grade A mommy kink, or more Tomura porn, plz, go read her stuff. it is marvelous.

Part III: MOMMY KINK

part i || part ii  

The shower is grimy. Thankfully, most of the stains are old patches of soap scum or neglected bits of grout. You’d asked Tomura once, to clean it, but he’d just chuckled and shoved you into the glass box, saying he’d think about it, if you’re good. 

It’s a pity you haven’t made it back onto the “good,” list.

It’s been three weeks and although Tomura has kept you close, hardly letting you slip from his sight, binding you when he has to leave the confines of his room, he’s clearly sulking in his lingering annoyance. An annoyance that’s firmly directed at you. 

His touches are less frequent and there’s been a decided lack of that early, awed, wonderment and soft persistences. He used to stroke his fingers down your skin when you slept beside him, careful to let you know that he’s being cautious, not wanting to frighten, or worry you. Now, when he flops beside you, he turns his back, curling up, on his side of the mattress, shouldering off your tentative pets.  

He’s distant and you can’t adjust to it.

You reach for the plain sliver of bar soap and work it into your shivering arms, building suds and foam under your fingers. The shower door is fogging up, thick with the wet heat from the spraying water, but you can make out Tomura’s outline. He’s perched on a low stool, one that he’s placed specifically in the tiled room, so he can keep an eye on you, so he can make sure you don’t try to slither away from him again. 

It’s frustrating, the warring closeness and aloofness he’s giving you, and you grumpily slough off the bubbles of soap, watching as they swirl down the rusted drain. You were going to come back, you justify, wetting your hair and hoping there’s enough shampoo left to give it a proper soak. You only wanted to get your cat. It’s not your fault he’d forgotten him, when he’d drugged you and placed you under his power. Sure, you could have told him about the feline, but you just…

You wanted to do it yourself. 

Since he’s taken you, you don’t get to do a lot of things by yourself anymore and you needed to prove...no...that’s not right. You’d wanted to taste the fresh air that night and yank yourself out from under Tomura’s omnipresent thumb. It’s exhausting, being held like this. You know, in his own twisted way, that Tomura loves you and there’s some answering part of you that’s starting to care for him, too, but those feelings don’t make you any less caged. Besides, you sigh, combing the shampoo into your hair, how could you not find yourself slipping into a ragged dependency?   

How were you possibly supposed to prevent those budding needs? After all, took care of you and he fed you, both physically and sexually. God, you’d never had anyone fuck you like he did. You’re almost certain that he’d been a virgin when he fucked you, that first night, but damn, he’d more than made up for his inexperience with a genuine desire to see you satisfied. 

It’s an odd rush of emotions. 

You feel equal parts guilt and anger pressing at you. You didn’t mean for this to happen and it’s not fair he’s still taking it out on you. Besides, you’d only wanted to get your cat that night. You didn’t have grand plans of escape, or reporting Tomura’s undoubted villain status to the police. No, you would have come back. The most you would have risked was sneaking one quiet night's sleep in your old bed, but you would have slunk back to him in the morning, ready to see his outstretched arms and those lovely, fervid, eyes that flashed so much adoration when they rested upon you.

Yes, it had all gone to plan, that is, until he caught you. 

He hadn’t spoken much, since that night, and you missed those early conversations the two of you shared. You know you’ve perturbed him, angered him, hurt him, and it’s starting to feel like there's nothing you can do about it. 

However, while you were kept under strict watch, your rescued cat, on the other hand, has grown into a regal prince, free to strut about the hideout, often weaving under Tomura’s red shoes. Never, never, ever, would you have thought that you’d be jealous of a cat, of your cat. But you can’t help but bristle at the affection Tomura showers down on your feline, and your cat, that damned smug little thing, lapped it all up, purring and fat, content with his new supremacy.

You suck your teeth at the thought and quickly dash your head under the reassuring spray of the shower. When you turn, you catch sight of Tomura’s outline again and a sudden idea pops into your head. Before your failed rescue mission, Tomura had often luxuriated under your touches, almost vibrating some nights, drunk off the pleasure of your stroking hands. Although he’s been detached, maybe...maybe you could bridge that gap, with the right incentive, of course. 

“Um, Tomura?” you call, curling your arms about your chest, shivering as you step from the misting of warm water. 

He grunts, but that hazy silhouette doesn’t shift, solid and unyielding, despite your soft voice. You bite your lip and step closer, pressing yourself against the slick glass, not ready to give up. 

“Can you come here, please?” you try again, infusing honey and light into your tone, hoping it might convince him to turn. 

“What is it?” Tomura grumbles, but you notice him shift and you smile at your tiny victory. 

“I need you, just for a second, if you...please, Tomura?” you’re trailing your fingers over the frosted dips and imperfections of the shower door and you can tell he’s starting to waver. It’s hard for him to pull away when you whine out his name like that. It’s likely a control thing, but that gasping want, that echo of need is something he’s done his best to encourage, liking that he can make you slip into a gooey, broken, state. 

He stands and pads toward the steaming shower and you bite back a grin, pleased he’s maneuvering into place. Once he’s close, you crack the door open and poke your dripping head out, searching for his eyes. Tomura pauses when he catches sight of you, vermillion iries dark, narrowed and suspicious. 

“What?” he asks again, his lips curling, lifting that jagged scar and revealing a line of straight, white, teeth. 

“Can...can you do me a favor?” you question, dragging your tongue across your lower lip, tugging at the plush skin, silently rejoicing when you catch his eyes lowering, following the motion. 

“Depends,” he snaps, his gaze flashing back to yours. You give a soft huff, disappointed that he’s not bending, at least, not yet. 

“Will you, um, take a shower with me?”

Tomura snorts, looking over your sopping hair. “Don’t be stupid, you’re practically done.”

“What if I want to clean you off?”

“You calling me gross?”

“No,” you stammer, aghast and unsure if he’s joking. “I just...I want to do this, for you. You’ve been so good to me, I want to do something nice for you, too.”

“Liar,” Tomura taunts, but he does step closer, leaning one arm on the brass frame and peering over your half concealed form. 

“I’m not lying. I’d really like to– ”

“Not that. You’re lying about me being good to you. Don’t give me that look, you know it’s true. Should I list it out for you? To prove it. Let’s see, I’ve kidnapped you, fucked you, against your will, until all you can do is drool, begging me to stop, and I’m pretty sure that’s fucking called rape. What else? Oh, I’ve drugged you, tied you up for hours, almost killed your cat, ah, and I’ve been ignoring you, doing my fucking best to make you feel like the ungrateful little slut that you are. That enough? Or should I give you some more?”

You roll your shoulders, agitated. “Tomura, that’s not...I don’t want to talk about that. I want– ”

“You want to pretend again. To put on an act and go about the motions. Wait until I’ve lowered my guard and then you’ll fucking– hey– stop!” Tomura bristles when your wet fingers curl around his dark shirt, yanking him toward you and dangerously close to the wet tiles. His nose wrinkles and he tries to bat you away, hands roughly knocking against your pruned skin. 

“Tomura, please. I’m not...I just want to be close to you. Don’t push me away, I’m sorry. I’ve told you that before and I’ll tell you again. You know I didn’t mean– ”

“Didn’t mean to sneak out of a window? You fucking accidentally woke up and thought, good time to make sure he’s out on a meeting, better make the most of this? Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you (Y/N),” Tomura growls, finally succeeding in shaking himself free, glaring down at your damp, wrinkled, brow. 

Sighing, you sulk back into the warmth of the shower, pouting your lips and shaking  your head, dropping tiny flecks of water across Tomura’s dark shirt and bare feet. “You’re really not going to forgive me, huh? Even if I tell you that I’m sorry, even if I ask for you to let me hold you? 

That’s fucking mean, Tomura. You’re such a jerk. A fucking ass. You’re making me feel like some kind of bitch. Yeah, I didn’t ask for you to fucking kidnap me, but what do you want me to do? 

It’s not my fault that...that I like you. That I like when you’re nice to me, that I like when you make me feel so...so good, and, well, wanted. You can’t...what am I supposed to do? At this rate, I’ll just hate you. So, if that’s what you’re...what...what you’re want...oh.”

You’d turned your face, while you snapped and berated him, so the feeling of his hard, bare chest, and the sucking pressure of his lips startles you. When your face lifts to his, his long fingers wrap under your chin, forcing you to look at him. His red gaze ensnares you and your breath catches, granting him the opportunity to shut the glass door behind him and press you against the slippery tiles. His free hand shifts to the temperature gauge and he rolls the heat down, hissing at the sting of the shifting water. 

“Fine,” he smirks, slotting himself against your curves, letting you feel his rising cock and the sharp planes of his muscles. “I’m here. What is this, so called, nice thing you want to do for me?” 

You laugh at his dripping sarcasm and arch into his arms, pleased when he gifts you a quiet shiver. “Turn around,” you smile, your eyes roving over his exposed figure hungrily. Tomura sucks his teeth, but he does as you ask and you reach beside him, slipping the block of bar soap into your palm. You scoot close and dampen the sharp protrusions of his shoulder blades, slicking them with the lukewarm water before pressing the soap over him. Once you get a decent lather built up, you let your fingers dip into his corded sinews, massaging out the rough patches until he’s groaning, a pleased hum radiating from his chest. 

“Does that feel ok?” you ask, watching him tremble when you hit a particularly sensitive spot. Tomura responds by shifting back, cracking his back as he bows into your touch. You smile and cup some water over him, sloshing away the bubbles. Once his back is clean and gleaming, you rub yourself against him, kissing his neck. 

“What’s your plan?” Tomura sighs, his voice hushed. He cranes his neck and you catch a glimpse of one bright eye, watching you, waiting for your response. 

“Plan?” you ask, confused by his meaning. 

“Yeah, you trying to butter me up? You think this is gonna change my mind? If you do something nice for me, I’ll have to repay you? Let my guard down?”

You click your tongue and pull him to you, urging him to turn around, so you can see him properly. “Stop it,” you tut, raising the soap again and repeating the soft circles and easy massages, liking that he’s starting to duck his head, a light flush seeping over his chest and nose. “I want to do this for you. Call me stupid, but it makes me happy to see you relaxed. There’s something nice about your face and...and how you look at me. Besides, you haven’t looked at me like that...since...since before that night.” 

Tomura glances away at the reminder, breaking the hard stare he’d fixed you with, but he takes a shallow step toward you, letting the tips of your nipples glide over his slippery pectorals. You gasp at the sensation, enjoying the sweet tightening that races along your areola, puckering the buds into stiff peaks. 

“Well? Don’t leave the job half finished. Keep going,” Tomura rasps, his hands cupping your lifted wrist and moving the soap over his sternum, before passing it along his abdomen. Nodding, you gulp and work your way down until you have to kneel, your knees digging into the water logged floor. Your head lines up with his half hardened cock and you eye the velvety flesh ravenously. You chance a peek up at him, but he’s still refusing to meet your eyes, his head turned, scowling darkly at the wet tiles. 

“Tomura,” you begin, releasing the bar of soap, letting the rushing water snag it, carrying it toward the pull of the drain. “Why don’t you let me take care of this for you?”

Above you, his jaw sets and you can hear him grinding his teeth, trying to shrug off that deepening red blush. You’re not quite sure why he’s so affected by this, but you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Your fingers slide up his thighs, nails gently scraping and pressing as you near the apex of his hips, watching him rise under temptation of your proximity. Once you’re grazing along his dark curls, he unconsciously thrusts toward you, a tiny droplet of precum budding out of his slit, gleaming in the light of the bathroom. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” you ask, your heart thumping wildly, unsure where this sudden urge, this need, to have him supplicate himself for you, is coming from. You want him to ask, no, you want him to moan for you as he blushes and pants. Oh, yes. That would look so good on him. “I can help,” you continue, careful to keep your eyes down, not wanting to give yourself away. “It looks...it looks like you need me to take care of you. Just ask me, Tomura. Ask me to..to…”

Tomura’s hand on the back of your head makes you lose your train of thought and you sputter into silence, your eyes lifting to his, waiting. He glares down at you, imperious and chilling. His nostrils flare when you breathe across his leaking tip and his hips shift again, thumping his heavy cock head against your parted lips. 

“Suck,” he commands and immediately, you do your utmost to take him all in, your jaw aching at the familiar weight of him. Tomura groans at the suction and his eyes finally slip closed. You hollow your cheeks and curl your tongue, racing the wet appendage over his thick veins, feeling him pulse and swell. He’s salty and so, so deliciously earthy. Your mind clouds over and all thoughts of making him bend to you fly out the window, content in the happy pleasure of making him spill down your waiting throat. 

******

Later, when you’re both dry and stretched out on his tattered mattress, he turns to you, pressing his face into your arms, sighing happily when you stroke a hand down his hair. It’s been a while, since he’s come to you like this, all contented nuzzles and heavy exhales. Even before your misguided escape, he would rather have you cling to him, than he to you. No, this is a different kind of touch. You curl around him and he begins to slacken in your hold, drifting into the welcoming embrace of sleep. 

As the night passes around you, you revisit those musings you’d had in the shower, when he was doing his best to ignore you as you gently needled him, wanting to hear him ask you for your attention. You’d never thought much on domination, how could you? Half of the time, you were bound or gagged, especially in the early days of your capture. Tomura had always been unrelenting in his control and you hadn’t done much to question his iron backed rule, at least, not until tonight. 

But once you noticed that tight lipped expression and that delightful blush he’d given you? Oh, you wanted something very different from him then. Imagine, you think, a mischievous smirk lifting your lips, just imagine him, gasping and whining, just for you. He’d look so nice, so handsome, like that. 

You’ll have to be cautious and you’ll need to go slow, but fuck, you want to see him beg. Tonight was a good step. You’d slipped back into his good graces and you’d shown that he can trust himself, and you, to let him show you a gentler, more vulnerable side of himself. Now, let’s see if you can get something different from this arrangement. Besides, you reason, if you’re stuck here, you might as well have a little bit of fun. 

******

He’s got you pinned down, his powerful thighs digging into your spread hips, slapping his meaty balls against the wet curve of your ass. His fingers are hovering over your clit, but he’s careful not to touch. He isn’t wanting you to cum, not yet. You can’t breathe when he takes you like this and his lips are close to the hollow of your throat, rising and lowering in time with his jagged thrusts. 

“You’re too quiet tonight,” Tomura rumbles, his tongue dipping out to swipe up some droplets of sweat that have slipped down your chin. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me this is all you can take? I’ve seen you give me more. That’s it, be a good little slut, be my good girl, let me hear you.” 

His thumb slithers to your pulsing bud, slipping under the swollen hood and encouraging that pulpy flesh to throb out, hot and wanting. You gasp and he lifts his head, pressing a rough kiss to the side of your mouth. 

“Almost,” he taunts, positioning his index finger above his thumb, at the top of your clit, trapping it in his hold. The sharp, painfully cloying sensation he sparks makes you arch and his cock slips deeper, the head tapping against that final barrier of your cervix. You hiss at the distant echo of pain and Tomura sighs above you, surging his hips forward and grinding down, scraping his pelvis against yours, watching you tremble around him. 

“You take me so fucking well, (Y/N). Such a pretty little pussy, all wet and open, so flushed and all mine.”

When he tucks back, gliding his length from your weeping cunt, you find your voice and you shiver out a question, hoping, praying, he’ll entertain the idea. “T-Tomura, I...I want to ride you.” 

His brow furrows and he gives you a bewildered look, red eyes flashing over your distant, blissed out, expression. “Huh?”

“I said, I want to r-ride you. I want you on your back so I can...ohh...fuck,” your demand shakes to a halt as he gives you a harsh cant, his cock swelling as your walls flutter around him. 

“What’s wrong with this?” he scoffs, lifting his rubbing fingers and leaving your clit abandoned and aching. You keen at the loss, hips blindly rising, hoping you’ll catch him before he’s too far away. 

“Damn it,” you sulk, missing your target and tilting your chin, meeting his hazy eyes and wrinkling your nose. “There’s nothing wrong with this, I just want you deeper. Fucking you...ah– fucking you, when you’re on your back, will let me take more of you. Come on, just this once? If you don’t like it, I– ”

In the blink of an eye, Tomura wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, slinking under your quivering legs and stretching himself on the sheets. Your fingers scrabble for balance, accidentally scratching down his stomach. He growls at the sudden, trickling, pain but he’s impatient for you to move, so he responds to your unintended hurt by thrusting up, into your heat, leaking some of your copious arousal onto his thighs. 

“This doesn’t feel any different,” he grouses, his eyes glaring up at you before they dodge away, scowling out at his room, already frustrated that he’s given into your request, especially since it’s not looking like he’ll be getting much out of it.  

“Give me a second,” you complain, finally steadying yourself and bracing your knees on the soft mattress. Once you’ve gotten your barings, you rise up, savoring the sting of his thick cock as it’s lifted from you. You roll your hips when you lower yourself and Tomura grunts, minutely curving his back, his lips curling into a pleased grimace. “How’s that?” you ask, preparing to repeat the motion, keeping your legs close and your pussy clenched, exulting in his choked moans. 

“It...it’s ok,” Tomura concedes, a lovely blush beginning to seep over his face. His fingers tremble when they settle on your working hips, urging you to pick up your pace, but you ignore his silent request, circling yourself as you bottom him out, gently teasing him. 

“Awe,” you pout, trailing your hands to him, cupping at his jaw and turning him toward you. His eyes meet yours briefly and he quietly murmurs a few curses, trying to pull his chin from your warm digits. “Just ok?” you continue, letting your legs spread, rutting him into you, squeezing your sopping channel around his length. “I’m hurt. I figured you’d like this. Don’t I feel good? You feel amazing, so fucking hard and oh– Did you like that? Mmm, that felt nice. Tell me what it feels like for you, Tomura. I wanna know.” 

He dips his head back, unable to resist giving you a few sharp thrusts, his hips taking on a mind of their own as he begins to pulse inside you. That blush has bled down his neck and onto his broad chest, sprinkling his skin with a rosy hue. You drag your nails over the redness and he sucks in an unsteady breath, his eyes popping open and fixing you with a dazed stare. 

“Come on,” you taunt, bringing your knees back to the sides of his hips and lifting, rising, until his tip is beginning to slip from your quivering core. He hums at the feeling and the scar on his lip quirks as he gulps down a snarl. “I know, I’ll make a deal with you. Tell me how it feels for you and I’ll give you what you want,” you bargain, jutting your hips back and forth, teasing his swollen cock head until he’s digging bruises into your plush thighs. 

“What...what are you…doing...” Tomura gasps, his head lifting as he attempts to regain some control, his hands gripping you, trying to force you back to him. You click your tongue and lean away, out of his reach. “Don’t be like that. I just want to hear what you think. How can I possibly know if this feels good, if it makes you happy, if you don’t tell me?”

Tomura’s legs curl under you and his head shakes, white hair trailing along his neck, sticking to his damp skin. “I– it...it feels ok, I told you that.”

“Daw, but that’s vague,” you sulk, although you do sink down his straining cock, not quite all the way to his base, but low enough to reward him. Tomura sputters out a hiss when you do and he flops back to the bed, shaking. “Come on Tomura, give me a little more? Please?” you ask, fingers trailing along his stomach, drawing patterns into his slopes and grooves. 

“It feels...warm and it’s wet, so fucking wet, but...it...it hurts...I want more. Give me more. You said you’d take me deeper, not...not...ah– yes...yes…” He’s rasping as you engulf him to his hilt. You use your hands to brace yourself, picking up that cant, spearing him into you and keening when he hits something soft at the front of your pussy. Tomura’s eyes gleam when he notices your trembling and he lifts his legs, planting his feet under you and slamming himself into your undulating cunt. 

Your fingers wander to your clit and you start to roll those heady circles against yourself, oscillating waves of pleasure from your slippery bud. Tomura lets out a long sigh and he shivers as you break, edging yourself along that sharp ledge and falling into the mind numbing ecstasy that waits. As you drip and clench around him, Tomura gives out a weak shout and releases into you, thick bursts of his cum pulsing against your overstimulated and aching walls. 

You fall against him and he clings to you, kissing sloppily at your damp brow. After the heat of your coupling, your skin quickly begins to cool and you burrow into his warmth, careful to keep him tucked inside you, enjoying the softening of his length and the oozing slop that’s leaking from your cunt and onto the sheets. 

“What was that?” Tomura asks, his voice distant, awed.

“What?” you repeat innocently, pleased that these little pushes you’re giving him are working. You like seeing him disheveled and desperate and you want to see more. 

******

 It’s been easier between the two of you, since you’d worked your way back into his trust, but Tomura, being Tomura, still has his darker moments. 

He hasn’t permitted you to leave his room, still bringing you meals and keeping you close, binding you, or locking you in, when he can’t. But the nights are very different. He’s gentle with you again and he likes to duck into your arms, his white head pillowed against your breast. For your part, you’ve done your best to foster those urges, welcoming him and whispering soft words of praise over his bowed head. It’s a quiet lull and you like the shaking kisses he gives you, pleased with your acceptance. 

One evening, however, he comes to you in a blind rage.

Someone’s done something to shake him, to work him into this state, molding him into a walking, talking, callous being of anger and vitriol, but he won’t give you any names, or any particular reason for the sudden wrath. Instead, he opts to shove you down and spread you open, barely slipping his pants over his hips as he tugs his engorged, leaking, cock from the elastic band of his boxers. You’re not prepared for his first thrust and he growls in frustration as he sticks to you, lingering outside of your heat, unable to press forward. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, slicking his tongue over one thumb and lowering it to your clit, frantically rubbing at you, encouraging you to bead some of that glimmering arousal over your lower lips. 

“Tomura...Tomura...wait...I’m...ouch,” you whine, unable to hold still, shrinking from his aggression. “You can’t just shove your dick in me...I’ve gotta– ”

“Shut up,” Tomura grunts, maintaining that rough pressure, pinching at your half risen clit, pulling the hood away and mashing the pad of his thumb over the tiny bud. “I just want to...damn it…why won’t you– This isn’t fucking fair. I thought...I thought you were always ready for me, now? Why bother with you if you can’t give me what I want? Fucking slut, come on. I know you want me. Why won’t you– hey!”

Grateful that he’s neglected to tie you down today, you kick at him, scrabbling away from his belligerent touches. Tomura, displeased, snatches your ankle and tumbles you over, cracking his hand against your newly presented ass, startling a strangled gasp from your lips.

“Stop that,” he scolds, yanking you back and pressing you down, lifting your posterior and running a warm palm down the fleshy curve, soaking in the heat he’s struck from your skin. “I’m going to fuck you, so you might as well get used to that idea. Now, keep still (Y/N).”

“And I told you to hang on,” you grumble, twisting your head around to glower up at him. Shockingly, he pauses, his eyes narrowing as he leans back, lowering his hand to his throbbing length, tugging at himself, relieving some of the pressure that he’s worked up, waiting.  

“Just...what happened? Can’t you at least talk to me, before you try to fuck me inside out? What– ”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Tomura frowns, already pulling you back to him, prepared to line up with your unprepared cunt and shove his way inside you, ready or not. 

“No, wait. But what if– ”

“But what if?” Tomura mimics, unamused with your continued struggles. “My head hurts and I want to feel you. So, stop arguing with me, stop being such a–”

“If you finish that sentence I swear to fucking God, Tomura, I’ll– ”

“What? You’ll what? What are you gonna do? Huh?”

“Ugh, stop being such an ass, Tomura. It’s not like I pissed you off. How would you like it if I did this shit to you?”

“If you fucked me until I couldn’t think anymore? I’d say thank you and not be so– ”

“So let me do that,” you snap, wriggling out of his grip and flipping yourself around, fingers already reaching for his half clothed thighs and pulling yourself up to him. Tomura freezes underneath your touch and his eyes are wide, whisking over your upturned face. 

“You’ve got this, mmm, backwards,” he grouses, unable to resist bucking into you when one of your palms slips over his dripping cock.

“Do I?” you smile, kissing along his jaw, pausing to suck at his earlobe. He gasps at the sensation and his head butts into you, easing you off of that sensitive skin. “I’ll make it good for you, I promise,” you coo. 

He’s quiet for a time and the only sounds you can hear are the wet squelches of your hand, gliding up and down his succulent cock, squeezing when you reach the tip and working some of that dribbling precum over your fingers. You’re about to posit another question when you hear him, breathy and low, rumbling out his answer to your soft seduction. 

“Fine. What do you want me to do?”

Oh, fuck yes. You bite back your smile and pull yourself from his neck, meeting his eyes and reveling in that sweet blush he’s gifting you. Your hand keeps up a delicious friction, mollifying his ragged needs, and you study his face, debating your next move. He looks frustrated, but there’s something else hiding behind those vermillion eyes, something that’s curious, avid. 

“Let’s see,” you ponder, already feeling intoxicated off of this new sensation, this burgeoning power he’s bestowing you. “Since you were, oh, so impatient earlier, how about you show me just how wet you want me to be?”

Tomura snorts, rolling his eyes. “You could have just said you wanted me to eat you out.”

“Oh? I’m sorry, was my request unclear about that?” you smart, lifting your fingers away from his cock, pausing to wipe his slick lubrication down his pants. Tomura sucks his teeth at that, but lets the impudence slide. “Well?” you question, laying back and cocking your head at him, spreading your legs, granting him a swift peek at your flushing pussy. “You gonna make me wait all day? Oh, and take your pants off. It’s not fair you always get to keep all the layers on.”

“Why the fuck am I letting you do this, again?” Tomura growls, slipping his long legs out of his stained jeans and tossing them on the floor. His shirt follows and, despite his grumbling, he quickly slots himself between your spread thighs, his nose already dipped and sniffing loudly, inhaling the heady aroma of you dampening curls. 

His fingers thread to your dewy folds and he splits your lips apart, gathering some of the gossamer webs along his fingertips. You give him a pleased hum and he sinks his index finger into you, head lifting so he can watch you arch against the intrusion. “Hey, (Y/N),” he smirks, adding a second finger and v-ing the two, stretching you open, “I asked you a question.”

“Because you wanna see what I’ve got planned for you,” you gasp out, lifting yourself onto your elbows, wanting to observe his teasing explorations. 

“Do I? What makes you think that?”

“You can’t help yourself. Besides, I think you like pleasing me. You like when I tell you nice things or when I say you’re doing a good job.”

“Hmph,” Tomura jeers, shaking his head at your assessment, but he doesn’t comment further, content to silently watch as your cunt swallows his fingers. Your arousal soon coats the digits and begins to drip down his palm and onto his wrist. He’s just about to lean forward, to press those rough lips against you when you tut at him.

“Uh-uh,” you scold, lowering one knee and trapping his hand between your thighs, barring him from you. Tomura flashes a displeased expression your way, but humors you, stilling his movement. “Gotta ask,” you inform him, arching one delicate brow at his redding cheeks. 

“Ask? I thought you said you wanted me to make you wet?” Tomura sneers, his red eyes hardening, like flecked rubies in the darkness of his room. 

“Sure did. So, do you think you’ve done a good enough job? Or are you wanting to do more?”

Tomura’s jaw flops open and he fixes you with a sour look. “What?”

“It’s not that difficult, Tomura. I want to know if this is the best you can do?” 

“Of course it’s not. It’s– ”

“Well then,” you interrupt, lifting your knee again and arching yourself toward him. “Show me. Ask me if you can eat me out.” 

“I’m not– I–” His eyes have drifted from yours and that blush is deepening, seeping over his skin, staining him with his flustered want. Oh, this is working too well, you think, tilting your head at his abashed grumbling. 

“Come on, handsome,” you call, trailing your foot along his lean side, watching him quake and gasp. “Do it for me? Just this once?”

Tomura glances back up at you and he clicks his teeth together, trying to muster his wavering desires. “C-can I eat you out?” 

“Oh, baby. That was so fucking good, thank you. Go on, you earned it.”

In seconds, Tomura’s beet red face is buried between your thighs. His lips latch onto your clit and he starts to suckle at the budding flesh, his saliva leaching from his lips. The warmth of him makes you shiver and your fingers sink into his silvery hair, threading along the strands and scritching at his scalp. His caresses are sloppy and he hunches himself closer, lapping and slurping at you, groaning when you flutter around his imbedded fingers. 

As you’re indulging yourself, whispering soft encouragement over his bowed head, you notice one of his hands drifting toward his straining cock, his fingers twitching as they grasp at the bulbous head, eager to work out some of that simmering pressure. “Stop that!” you snap, startling him, making him lose his grip on you. 

You curl your digits into his hair, yanking him up, straining his neck as you demand his full attention. His eyes are narrowed and gleaming, ire written all over his slicked face. 

“What the f-fuck?” he growls, tongue lapping at the residual threads of your arousal, trying to work steel into his voice.

“I said you could eat me out, not that you could touch yourself,” you retort, tugging at his hair until he’s moaning, his hips unconsciously humping against the bed. “Oh, you like that? Well that doesn’t work at all. Get on your knees.”

“What? I thought that– ”

“Get on your fucking knees, Tomura.”

“Stop telling me what to do you fucking– ah– God.” Your fingers release his hair and before he can stumble out another snarl you’re shoving him back, your hand wrapping around his cock, squeezing and pressing quick jerks over him. 

You let him fall to his back and you loom over him, teeth latching onto his scarred neck, biting and pulling, coaxing a low whine from his throat. Your hand slows and he keeps trying to rut into your palm, his legs trembling as he flounders against the sheets. “You wanna cum? Hmm, do you? You want me to finish you off? Talk to me, Tomura.”

He’s overwrought under your ministrations, his head lowered and his brow furrowed. His eyes keep opening and closing, too disjointed to focus on anything but your touch. He tries to gulp something out, but it’s lost in a smothered groan seconds later. He looks fucking cute, you think, watching him, rutting your hips over his raised knee. Drool starts to fleck out of his mouth and his back bows and arches. He’s practically unhinged, but it’s not enough. He’d never let you get away with not answering a question, so why should he get special treatment?

Your hand slows and he pouts, a long groan leaching from between his clenched teeth. “I asked you a question,” you mime, licking along his cheek, pulling some of that extra saliva he’d frothed out into your waiting mouth. “Do you want me to finish you off? Or should I leave you like this?”

“P-plea...finish me off,” he whispers, his voice rasping. 

“Ooh, was that what I think it was? Baby, did you almost say please? I’d love that so much. Oh fuck, that makes me want to take care of you.” You kiss at his temple and he quakes, his hips rising, trying to force your palm back into that rhythm. 

“I didn’t...I didn’t mean to...just fucking…(Y/N)...” Tomura lets out a reedy whine when you lift your hand from him, letting his cock spring from your grasp, the tip curving toward his stomach, swollen and red. 

“Oh no, you didn’t mean to? That’s not nice, no that’s not fucking nice at all. Especially after I just told you how much I liked that idea.” you lift your sticky fingers to your lips and lick up the last bits of his precum, humming contentedly and lifting your eyes to his. He’s watching you, his eyes hooded and dark. His breaths are coming in low heaves and he’s gritting his teeth, but he hasn’t reached for himself. No, there is a wild look in his eyes and you want to see if you can make it worse.

“Say please and I’ll touch you,” you tell him, your voice lulling, tempting.

He looks away from you and he starts to shake his head, but then you hear him, whisper thin, broken, and oh, so fucking needy, so exquisite. “Please, I-I wanna cum. Touch me, please (Y/N).”

You take him back into your hands, your fingers gentle as they wrap around that velvet skin, careful to build him back up slowly. You rise up on your knees and tilt his chin up, wanting to feel his lips on yours. Tomura sucks in a ragged breath when you tap soft caress to him, his body surging forward, demanding more. You indulge him, letting him slip his rough tongue into your mouth, pressing and dipping until he’s inebriated off the sheer closeness of you. When you pull away he lets out a huff and you stroke a hand down his flushed face. 

“You’re doing so well baby. Do you like it?”

“Y-yes, can...can you g-go faster?” he stammers, his mouth falling open and head tipping back when you acquiesce, picking up speed. He’s starting to sway, his back hunkering forward and backwards, knees spreading, drifting closer and closer to his release. Your thumb traces over his slit and you pull a glistening strand of precum from him, clinging and wet as it dangles across the short distance you’ve created. 

“God, handsome. You’re doing such a good job, I’m so fucking proud of you. I know it’s not easy, but you’re perfect. How does it feel, love? Are you gonna cum for me?”

He moans at your declarations, unable to even gasp the words out, leaning forward and burying his face in your shoulder. His brow is jagged against your smooth skin, but you let him rub himself against you, feeling the heat of his blush and the damp stick of his lips as he tries to catch his breath. 

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll take care of you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Are you ready to cum for me?”

He nods, his head thumping on your neck, another thin strip of drool escaping his open mouth. It trickles down your breast, cooling and prickling your flesh as it passes. You kiss at his lowered brow and he sighs, muttering something that’s too distant for you to hear. 

“Hmm, love? What was that? I can’t hear you,” you tell him, tightening the grip on his slippery cock, feeling those tell-tale flutterings that proceed his release. He’s scalding under your palm and he keeps trying to scoot closer, his hands shaking beside his hips, one of them reaching for you and digging into your side. 

“I-I said...fuck...let me cum, mom...m-mommy, please,” the last two words leave him on a yelp and he pulses in your hand, spurting thick cables of his cum across your lap and his. 

In the lull that follows, Tomura drags you against him, not caring that he’s smearing himself all over you and his chest. He pulls you down and wraps his long arms around you, caging you to him as he regains his breathing. You ignore the wet sticking that he’s rubbing into your lower half and you pull yourself higher, shifting until you can see his face. He’s still flushed and his eyes are clouded, but he lets you kiss at the side of his face. 

A silence stretches over the two of you and you’re unsure what to say. 

You’d liked pushing him and you’d liked how he bent to your demands, but that last comment, that final utterance he’d grunted into your shoulder as he worked himself into a frenzy, well, you’re not sure how you felt about that. Sure, it had made your pussy clench and you’re fairly certain it would only take a quick tweak of your fingers to shatter that burning ache within you, but what exactly have you awakened? Would he even acknowledge it, later after he’s escaped this haze that he’s slipped into? Would he...would he let you do that to him again? 

His drying cum is making your skin pull and you try to shift from his hold, but Tomura keeps clutching you, refusing to budge. 

“I- I just want to clean myself. Can I go to the bathroom? I’ll be– ”

“Don’t go, not yet,” Tomura replies, his tone gravel and forgotten ash. His arms tighten and you chance a quick glance at his turned face, meeting his eyes and absolutely melting. 

His expression is slack and his eyes are wide, with a childlike wonderment, and when you look at him he smiles. “Stay with me?” he asks and you wrap yourself around him, feeling for that familiar beat of his heart as it pulses, steady and strong, under your shaking fingers. 

******

A few days later, Tomura tells you to put on a new, grey, robe and leads you down one of the long walkways, toward one of the closed rooms that sits at the back of the hideout. He opens the door and hot steam pours from the tiled space, bushing against your face and tickling your nose. Inside sits a porcelain, square, ofuro bath. Your eyes lift to his, but he’s not looking at you. Instead, he’s wholly focused on tugging you inside, sliding the door shut and sealing you both in the fresh condensation.

“Leave your robe on that table by the door,” he tells you, already stripping off his dark shirt and lowering his four fingered grip to his belt, clattering the metal under his nails. You shift to obey, carefully folding the soft fabric and waiting for him, shivering against the cool tiles.

Tomura turns to you once he’s finished and regards you silently, his eyes lingering over your face. “Come on,” he rasps, gesturing his head toward the bath. He lets you step in first and once you’ve sunk into the water he wedges himself behind you, hissing against the warmth. Tentatively, you lean your back to his chest and Tomura shifts you over him, slotting his legs alongside your hips. Once you’re both comfortable, you slide your feet to the end of the tub, resting your head close to Tomura’s collarbone, quietly luxuriating in the gentle warmth. 

“So, um, I didn’t even know this room was here. Not that I know a lot about any of the rooms, so I guess that’s a stupid point. Anyway, why did you wanna do this? I mean...I like this, I’m just confused,” you correct, tilting your head up to look at his face. His eyes are closed and his lip is set into a light curve, smirking at your question. 

“Think of it as my way of getting you back for the other night, in the shower,” he rumbles, his voice deep as it reverberates around your ears. 

“Really?” you laugh, trailing your hand over the water, watching the ripples spread and fade. 

“Yeah, haven’t seen you this off balance in weeks,” Tomura teases, resting his chin over your head. 

“Pfft,” you scoff, brushing a bit of water over his chest, “you wish.” 

“I do,” he sighs, bringing his arm down over you, quieting your playful splashes. “I figured you’d like this and you’ve shown me that it’s nice to do things for the people you love.” The mention of the word love makes your heart miss a beat and you try to peek up at his face again, but his chin holds you still. It’s not the first time he’s said it to you. No, he’s said it plenty of times before and in plenty of ways. Sometimes it was a threat, other times it was a calculation, something that was supposed to make you pause, make you second guess yourself, letting a strange, nagging guilt prick along the back of your mind. 

But, there’s something different about this utterance of the endearment.

It’s quiet and it’s spoken with no layering of underlying motives. No, he said it like he...like he meant it, perhaps for the first time. You press back against his slick pectorals and he hums at the weight of you, pleased by your response to his declaration. The water laps at your sides and you snach his arms, wrapping them around you, stroking delicate designs over his wet skin. 

******

“I don’t– I don’t think that’s it,” you pant, your fingers slick. They’re too slippery, really. You can’t get a good grip on him and you keep flicking your eyes up to his, positive he’s gonna to buck you off of him any second.

He’s quiet, his lips set into a white line, but that blush of his, oh, that will never not look nice. When you fumble again he shifts, arching and impatient, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. Why would he?

It was his idea after all.

He’d murmured the request when the water cooled about the two of you. But your chill was forgotten as soon as he rasped the words against your ear, tickling your sensitive skin. When you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, his cock began to swell behind you, prodding and curious. 

As you entered his dark bedroom, he didn’t even give you a moment to breathe, lifting you to him, lips biting, sucking, licking you senseless. Once your knees bumped the mattress he urged you to sit, leaving your side to fish something out of a nearby drawer. He tapped the bottle down on the lone side table, nudging it expectantly and fixing you with a grinning leer. 

You’ve never done anything like this, never thought about it, never...no...no, that’s a lie. You have thought about it before and you’ve heard about it, too. I-It was supposed to feel good, right? 

Now, if you could only do this correctly.

You ball your hand into a fist and bite your lip, take a steadying breath and give him another lidded glance, watching him from the curtain of your eyelashes. “Ready?” you ask, rubbing your thumb and index finger together, trying to warm up the glossy lube. 

Tomura doesn’t grace you with a verbal affirmation, instead he simply nods his head, cascading his white hair over his forehead. Alright, you think, scooting closer and lowering one finger to him, reaching for his cock with your opposite hand. You grip him firmly, coiling your digits and admiring the dribble of precum that greets your pump. Tomura lets out a low exhale and arches again, those fervid eyes falling behind his eyelids. 

While you’re pulling and squeezing him, your trembling finger traces a circle around his puckered asshole, teasing at the muscle, giving him time to adjust. Once you’ve dampened him to your satisfaction, you dip into that warmth and gasp, your other hand faltering, accidentally loosening your hold on his straining length. 

You peek up at him, but his head has fallen back and his broad chest is heaving. Again, he’s not protesting, or demanding that you stop, so you keep going. That first ring of muscle is tight, pinching your intruding digit when you try to sink further. As you wait for him to acclimate to the foreign sensation, you focus on his cock, bending your head over him and giving him a long suck. Your tongue swirls around his tip and you lap at the bubbling, salty, precum that floods your mouth. Again, Tomura stretches and shoves his hips forward, encouraging you, wordlessly telling you to keep going. 

His dick slides from your lips with a wet pop and your hand makes up for the loss, jerking moans from his open lips. You twist your opposite wrist and drive your finger in, plunging the last knuckle past that quivering ring. Flexing the digit, you begin to feel around for a bulge, the one that he asked you to stimulate for him.

He said he wanted to know how it felt and, best of all, he wanted you to push him until he begged you to stop.

It’s hot and sleek inside him and you’re worried that you might miss it. After all, it’s not like...wait...what...is that? There’s something protruding and it feels both hard and soft under your finger pad. Unsure, you stroke over it again and Tomura does something wonderful in response.

When you apply the slightest whisper of pressure his legs curl up, bracing his feet against the sheets and he lets out the breathiest whine. His fingers scrabble beside him, slapping and gripping at the bedding until you’re sure he’s about to decay the whole fucking thing and leave you both blinking on the dusty floor. 

“D-did– that feel good?” you query, amazed at the clenching his body is doing. Tomura nods his head, white hair splayed across the mattress and you pause, waiting for him to gather himself back together. 

“Again,” he finally grunts, craning his neck to give you a staggered glare, his eyes cloudy.  

Licking your lips, you give the gland another press and Tomura practically writhes off the bed. He’s groaning and gasping, choking out your name as he works himself closer. His cock pulsates in your hand and a line of milky white cum spurts out. It’s not enough to be a true release, but it makes your mouth go dry. 

Tomura sits up and his eyes immediately ensnare yours, blazing as he looks up at you. “Fucking keep going, don’t stop,” he barks, his voice splintered, hoarse. Keeping your finger close to the swell of his prostate, you shake your head at him. Tomura snarls at your impudence, but when you start to withdraw your finger he quiets, his teeth grinding behind his scowling face. 

“Don’t be an ass,” you challenge, fingers scooping up some of his leaked cum, using it to ease your renewed motions. Tomura buckles at that and his head drops to his chest, shaking out a few unsteady breaths. “If you want me to keep touching you like this, you better ask me nicely.” To emphasize your point, you lightly scrape your nail over that sensitive spot inside him, making him shudder and sigh. 

“Keep going, please,” he spits out. It’s dripping with more false supplication than true politeness, but you’ll take it. Since he reacted so well to that first press, you can’t help but wonder what he’ll do when you circle some modulated pressure around him. Oh, and it’s a perfect reaction. As soon as you complete that first rotation he’s a gooey mess, his bowed head shaking and nodding as he scrapes out your name.    

“Oh handsome,” you sigh, watching as another burst of precum trickles from his slit, coating your hand in a tacky sheen of pearl colored liquid. “You look so good. Being such a good boy and taking me like this. Does it feel good? Do you like it? Talk to me.”

Tomura whimpers when you repeat the oscillation, his voice slipping into a giddy edge, cracking and rising. “Fuck yes. It– it feels– oh fuck– again, again. Do it again. I-I mean...please. Ohhh God, (Y/N)!” 

He’s laughing now, his throat snagging as his moans hit a high pitched garble. “Ah-haha— I know, you liked it when I called you mommy. I saw your fucking face. It looked so pretty. Want me to say it again? Ah– oh, oh. I’ll do it. I’ll do it if you keep– hahaaa— fuck, fuck, fuck– I’ll– m-mommy. Oh, fucking God. Mommy don’t stop! Come here, fucking come here. I don’t care if you’re not rubbing my dick. Come here mommy and let me show you how much I fucking waaant you.”

His hands paw at you and he drags you up, lifting you with a lithe strength that you’ve never seen. Your finger, too slick to withstand the pull, slips from him and he groans at the loss. “I didn’t mean–” you begin, but he silences you with a fevered kiss, his teeth clinking against yours. He drowns out your protestations and swiftly straddles you over him, pressing you down and spearing you onto his messy cock. 

Once he bottoms out, the tip of him pulsing deliciously as he indulges himself in your wet heat, he leans back and gives you a wild grin, his eyes bright. “Fuck, yes. Ride me mommy. Let me show you what a good boy I am.”

notes: (￣▽￣*)ゞ  

tags: @libiraki​ (i’m tagging you cuz imma make you into a tomura fucker if it’s the last thing i do) @spicy-skull​, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @rekoii​, @diaouranask​, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love​

[morizoras-cave]

Drink (Request)

Ryan Reynolds x teen!daughter!reader

Genre: angst, fluffy ending

Request Description: Could you maybe do a Ryan Reynolds x teen!reader where the reader maybe goes to a party and something gets slipped into her drink but she calls Ryan and says she doesn’t feel well and he gets her and looks after her? Only if this is okay for you to write and you feel comfortable doing it. I love you work so much🥺 Thank you!🤍

Warnings: attempted rape, drugging, language

(A/N): this is my first ryan reynolds post. v excited. reading this back, i realized that this could be taken as victim blaming. the beginning part where ryan is talking about how his daughter “shouldn’t wear that dress out” was more of a “awww look hes a protective and good dad”. i dont believe in victim blaming at all. (off topic here) also i wrote the last part of this drunk af. anyway i hope y’all still enjoy. now smell you later losers!! break begun!

“Y/n, you are not going to a party in that outfit!”

You glared at your dad, who was both shaking his head and wagging his finger in disapproval. 

“What’s so wrong with this dress?” you protested, crossing your arms. 

“The boys and the girls will be after you in seconds! I will not have some sweaty teen thinking something nasty about my daughter!” his voice was high (as always), as he squealed his argument. You rolled your eyes. 

Your mom walked into the room to grab something from the fridge, but stopped and looked at you. “Nice dress, N/n, you going to a party?” 

“Don’t encourage this!” Ryan hissed and you smiled scornfully. Blake’s laughter came throughout the room and she stopped beside you with her glass of milk in her hand. 

“Calm down, Ryan. She’s growing up!” 

“Nuh uh!” your dad looked away, still unsatisfied. You couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Y/n, just go to your party. I’ll deal with the grump lord,” your mom pushed you towards the entrance. Ryan’s face twisted into that of someone betrayed by his closest. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Grump lord? I have a code name? In my own house?” 

You skipped to the entrance room, sliding on your jacket and your shoes, smiling playfully. “Wait!” your dad yelled and footsteps nearing you, as he jogged to the entrance. You looked at him. 

“Just.. Call me if you’re in trouble. Anything at all,” he knew he was defeated. Although, you loved basking in the glory of victory, you couldn’t help but smile at your dad’s kind words.

“I will,” you promised.

The party was loud and booming. Every inch of the house was hot (in an uncomfortable way) and crowded, teenagers rubbing against each other and dancing. You found yourself with your friends in the living room, dancing to the sound of a Nicki Minaj song. 

“I’m gonna go get a drink!” you yelled over the music. Your friends, extremely intoxicated and doing ‘the stanky leg’, gave you a mindless thumbs up, and continued to dance. You giggle was drowned out in the music. 

You squeezed your way past different people, finally making it to the table with all the liquor. The boy who was hosting had miraculously bought enough for there to just be an all-you-can-drink table. 

The unnerving feeling of someone watching you became immediately clear. You looked around, finding the person fairly quickly. It was a boy, maybe a couple of years older than you, with a drunken gaze and tousled hair. He was smirking at you. You rolled your eyes and poured yourself a gin and tonic. 

The moment the drink was finished, someone poked your shoulder. You looked up. It wasn’t the same boy as before. This one was bigger and broader. He had the same knowing smirk on his face. You felt unnerved.

“Hey. Is this your friend over here? They look pretty smashed, you might want to check on them,” he pointed to somewhere behind him, taking all your attention from your drink to your idiot friends. You told them not to drink too much.

“Can you show me where they are?” you mumbled and the boy nodded, pulling you away from your drink. He led you to somewhere entirely different in the house, where a girl you’d never seen in your life was doubled over, puking on the poor host’s carpet. 

“I don’t know this girl,” you explained and the boy’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape. He sighed and then shrugged.

“Sorry, I thought I saw you talking earlier. Sorry to bother you,” then he walked off. You shook your head at the weird incident and walked back to you drink. You started gulping it down hungrily, deciding you were definitely too sober to be at this party.

 Almost immediately, you started feeling extremely drunk. Extremely. Which was weird, you thought, but it was hard to concentrate on it, when the environment was so loud and your thoughts were so blurry. 

Then, slowly, you realised that you didn’t usually feel like this when you were drunk. You tried to rationalise it. Maybe you just put too much gin in your drink? Maybe you had forgotten that you’d drunk something? Whatever the case, you started feeling weird. 

Everything was spinning. You wouldn’t have been able to find your friends if you wanted to. Then, in your chaotic state, your eyes passed someone else’s eyes, and you recognised them. It was the boy from earlier, the broad one, smirking at you. This time, his smirk felt alarming. Chilling. 

That moment was when the penny dropped. Your head snapped to the other boy, the one who’d just watched you. He gave you a grin. 

You were shaking, blinking away tears. You realised the position you were in. You were prey. And you were vulnerable. You took a few shaky steps, trying to make it seem like you hadn’t just realised you’d been roofied. 

When your back was turned to them, and you were stood behind a wall of dancing bodies, you pulled out your phone from your bag. You couldn’t tell if it was your vision, or if your hands were shaking, but everything was buzzing, unable to keep still. 

Your finger hovered over his number. What if you weren’t roofied? What if you were just drunk and silly? How embarrassing would that be? You felt tears prick your eyes. 

His voice echoed in your head. “Call me if you’re in trouble. Anything at all.”

You pressed down on his number, bringing the phone to your ear. You could hardly form a sentence. Everything was moving and it was so loud. 

“Hello?” Your dad’s voice was like cutting open this hellspace to some sort of heaven. It felt safe. You closed your eyes, a tear running down your face. 

“Hi, dad,” you had to yell, “can you- can you come pick me up?” 

There was a moment of silence from the phone, before he said: “Sure, why? You’re at Erik’s house, right?” 

“Yeah, Erik’s house. Let’s talk about this later!” then you hung up. It almost felt like your heart was shaking in your chest. It was too much, all of it. You could hardly walk, but you took a step towards the door, then several more. 

You feverishly grabbed the door handle, trying desperately to open the door, but you weren’t strong enough. It was a chilling realisation, that you weren’t even strong enough to open a door. 

“Do you need a help?” 

You jumped and shrieked, but it was drowned out by the music. No one noticed. You looked up and you had to stand there for a moment, before you realised that it wasn’t any of the boys you’d seen before. 

This boy looked concerned. You couldn’t even process how you must look, tear-streaked face, ruined makeup, shaking and helplessly grasping a door. You didn’t care. 

“Here,” he mumbled and opened the door for you. You whispered a ‘thank you’, and wobbled out on the street. You heard the boy leave, but you kept standing there, waiting uncomfortably for your dad to show up. 

Eventually, you saw his car pulling up in the distance. You breathed out in relief and dashed to his car, opening the door and sitting down beside you dad. He was looking at you, brows furrowed in concern. 

It was a scary thing. He was always afraid of seeing you like that. Seeing you scared and drunk and desperate. As you sat down his hand grasped yours. 

“Are you okay, Y/n? What happened?” 

You shook your head. You felt so unfocused. It was impossible to understand everything that was going on. You missed being sober. “My- My drink,” you mumbled senselessly, unable to speak normally. 

“What about your drink?” Ryan pressed, squeezing your hand. You were his child. He loved you. He was worried. Beyond belief.

“I-I think someone.. I think someone put something in it..” you mumbled, head swinging. You were far from the normal you. Everything was swinging right by you. 

“You think someone..?” Ryan trailed off. You saw his knuckles turn white as he grasped the steering wheel angrily. “Did they- Did they touch you?”

You shook your head. You saw your dad breathe out in relief, his hand never leaving yours. 

“Alright, I’ll just drive you home. It’ll be fine,” he mumbled (mostly to himself) as he started the car and drove away from the booming, partying house. “It’ll be just fine, N/n.”

He kept mumbling to himself, but you fell asleep in the car. Eventually everything was too much for you, so you just decided to close your eyes. It was a good decision. Sleep was so peaceful. 

Ryan drove you home, carrying you into their house and into your room. “What’s wrong with her?” Blake would yell, confused and scared, but Ryan would just focus on getting you to bed. 

“She was roofied. Someone put something in her fucking drink! She could’ve been- She could’ve been fucking raped!” he ranted to his wife, whilst you slept peacefully in the other room. 

Needless to say both your mom and your dad were much more overprotective after that, both with parties and with boys. But it was okay. You woke up safe and sound, and you were happy your dad had gotten you before something awful happened.

Honestly, you didn’t oppose their overprotectiveness, because after that night you felt like you needed it. No matter what way you twisted it, that night fucked you up. You weren’t as reckless or careless after that. And you got help from a professional, but still. It was an awfully traumatising experience. 

You were just happy your dad had been with you that night. And that he cared for you. Of course, he would. He was your dad. He loved you more than anything else in the world. You had no reason to worry, not when you had your dad by your side. 

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh @eviemarvel @idk123906

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

pretty eyes

warnings: date rape drugs

word count: 2k

“You’re overreacting!”

“Overreacting? You cheated on me! What part of this is overreacting?” You yelled, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m so sorry Brant, I’m sorry for being upset that you slept with someone else in our bed! How could something so trivial possibly upset me?” Your voice dripped with sarcasm as you glared at him.

“You weren’t supposed to know-”

“Oh, and that makes it better? What is wrong with you? No, you know what, I don’t even want to hear it. I’m leaving. We’re done.”

“Y/N, wait, don’t just leave-”

“Goodbye, Brant,” you said, turning to the door. “I’ll come by later to get my stuff. I just- I can’t be around you right now.”

“Wait! Please, I love you!”

“If you loved me you wouldn’t have cheated on me!” You yelled, not turning around as you walked down the sidewalk and away from the man you had wasted a year of your life on.

You got in your car, blowing out a deep breath as you buried your face in your hands.

What am I supposed to do now?

Your best friend was out of town, which was probably a good thing. She wouldn’t hesitate to give Brant a piece of her mind, which was something you didn’t want to deal with right now. You just needed to get your mind off it.

Maybe you could go to a hotel for the night, just until she got home. Then you could crash with her until you found a new apartment.

But there was somewhere else you needed to go first.

-----

“What’ll it be?” The bartender asked.

“Tequila.”

“Right for the hard stuff, huh? Bad day?” He asked, chuckling as he poured the liquor.

“My boyfriend- ex boyfriend, I guess- cheated on me. In our bed.”

“Yikes,” he said, sliding the glass to you. “This one’s on me.”

“Thank you,” you said, wincing a bit as you threw the shot back. It was disgusting, as always, but hopefully it would help you forget a little faster.

Forget stupid Brant and his stupid house you used to live in and the stupid girl he slept with- wait, no, she might not have known he had a girlfriend. She might not be stupid. Stupid Brant. Stupid men, honestly.

-----

You groaned, pressing your hand over your eyes when the light hit them. You had literally never felt this awful.

How much tequila did I actually drink?

You shifted slightly, trying to find a new position to lay in so the sun wouldn’t attack you anymore. This movement alerted you that something was off. You looked down, freezing when you saw the blankets. The white blankets. The blankets that were definitely not yours.

You looked up quickly, eyes going wide when you realized you had no idea where you were. You looked around frantically, searching for any clues of what happened last night. You stopped when you saw your sweater and jeans on the floor. Looking down again, your face twisted in confusion when you saw the shirt you were wearing. It was old and faded and several sizes too big.

Odd, because I don’t own any Fleetwood Mac merchandise.

You looked down into the shirt, sighing in relief when you saw you were still wearing your bra. Then you were confused again, because you were also wearing... sweatpants?

You lifted the blankets away from your legs, inspecting the clothing you had never seen before.

Alright, I really need to know what happened, because I’m starting to freak out here.

Just then, the bedroom door opened. You couldn’t hold back your surprised shriek when you saw him. He looked just as surprised as you, but probably a lot more put together than you did.  He was carrying a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, smiling softly. “I didn’t think you were awake.” He didn’t step any closer, just paused in the doorway.

“Um- where am I?” You asked, your heart pounding.

“I know this looks really bad,” he said, looking between your face and the clothes you were wearing. “I promise, absolutely nothing happened. You were- uh, really out of it.”

“Why am I not wearing my clothes? Why am I in your bed? Who are you?” You asked, starting to feel frantic. He was right, this did look really bad.

“Wait, don’t freak out, just let me explain. But you should take this first, you probably don’t feel great,” he said, holding out the pills.

You nodded, pressing your lips into a line. At your confirmation, he stepped into the room and handed you the glass and the medicine. You swallowed two pills, watching him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Ok,” you set the items on the bedside table. “You better start explaining.”

-----

“This seat taken?” He asked, smiling at the girl.

“No, go ahead,” she said, gesturing lazily toward the stool next to her. “Another margarita, please,” she looked at the bartender, nodding her head at the empty glasses in front of her.

“You can put that on my tab,” Harry said, resting his elbows on the bar. “And one for myself, too.”

“Oh, you- you don’t have to do that,” she said, blushing a bit.

“Not a problem, love. You look like you’ve had a rough time of it.”

“Yeah, my stupid ex, he cheated on me. In our own bed,” she said, slurring her words a bit as she sighed. She was already pretty out of it, and Harry didn’t like the looks she was getting from a few men across the room. Their staring made him uneasy.

“What a prick,” he said, smiling gratefully at the bartender when he handed him the glass.

“Yeah, he was,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “But he was really pretty, and I really liked him.”

“I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have done that. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“Y/N,” she answered with a small smile.

They talked for a while longer, her speech getting more disoriented as the time went on. Harry was starting to get concerned. He didn’t think she’d had that much to drink, but she was clearly very intoxicated.

“You’ll have to excuse me, so I can use the ladies room,” she said, nearly tipping over when she stood up. Harry’s arm instinctively shot out to grab her shoulder, steadying her.

“Sorry,” she blushed, blinking quickly like she was trying to focus her eyes. “I’m fine.”

Harry watched her head disappear through the crowd, flicking his eyes between her and the group from earlier. He narrowed his eyes when he saw one of them gesturing at her, looking triumphant at how difficult it was for her to stay upright.

Oh, fuck no.

Harry stood up, making his way over to the men.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” He demanded, getting straight to the point.

“What are you talking about?” One of them responded, acting totally oblivious.

“Don’t play with me. I’ve seen you watching her all night.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, man. She’s pretty, but she’s not that hot,” he said, the whole group laughing.

“Don’t speak about her like that. Come on, what’d you do? Drug her? What, can’t get a woman unless she’s completely off her face? Not surprising, looking like that,” Harry said, looking down at his outfit distastefully. “I’m not kidding, what did you give her?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” he said again, smirking. “But fine, you can have her. There’s plenty of other ladies here for me to buy drinks for,” he said, nudging his friend with his elbow.

“You little-” he was cut off when he felt a gentle tug on the back of his shirt. He turned quickly, looking down at Y/N who seemed more dazed than before.

“I don’t- I think something’s wrong,” she said, looking at him with scared eyes.

“Don’t worry, you’re just fine,” he put his arm around her shoulder, guiding her back to their seats.

“Have fun!” The man yelled, making the rest of his little gang laugh nastily.

Harry clenched his jaw, not willing to give them what they wanted and react, even though all he wanted to do was knock the smirks off their faces.

“Can I get a water, please?” He asked, helping Y/N into her seat. It wasn’t an easy task, she could barely sit up. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”

-----

“So, yeah, I don’t know exactly what that guy put in your drink, but you were pretty much completely out of it,” Harry said, wrapping up his story.

“I’m sorry,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“What are you sorry about?”

“Well, you went out for a drink and ended up taking care of some random girl who got roofied. I’m so stupid, how did I not notice someone slipping me something?”

“You’re not stupid,” he said, looking up at you. “People like that, who do things like that, they’re very good at it. It’s disgusting, I know.”

“Thank you, for keeping me safe. That- my night could have gone very differently, so thank you for not letting anything happen to me.”

“Of course,” he said, his eyes softening. “Oh- I almost forgot. When we got here you started taking your shirt off, said it wasn’t comfortable enough to sleep in,” he smiled. “I gave you that one, which was apparently good enough. Same thing with the jeans.”

“Sorry about that,” you said, your face heating up. “Also, why am I here?”

“Oh, right, I found your drivers license in your purse, tried to bring you to that address, but you were going on and on about how you couldn’t be there. Something about how it wasn’t your home anymore, so I didn’t really know what else to do.”

“Yeah, that’s where I lived with my boyfriend. Ex boyfriend,” you corrected.

“Oh, that makes sense then,” he said. “Where were you planning to go? Do you have family, or friends around here?”

“Yeah, my best friend lives here. She’s out of town right now, so I’m going to stay at a hotel until she gets back.”

“Sounds good,” he said, looking shy all of the sudden. “I was wondering if- if you’re up to it, we could go for brunch?”

“You saw me when I was- to put it nicely- piss drunk, and you want to go for brunch?” You asked, smiling.

“Yeah, for sure,” he grinned. “It was kind of endearing, you’re a very sweet drunk. You made sure I knew how pretty my eyes were, multiple times actually.”

“Of course I did,” you said, blushing all over again. “Yeah, brunch sounds good.”

“Perfect,” he beamed. “There’s this really nice cafe not too far away, we can go there. Oh- but you might want to...” he gestured at your eyes.

You looked at him in confusion, grabbing your phone from the table beside you. You opened your front camera, your eyes going wide when you saw the black smudges under them.

“Wow, that’s- that’s really cute,” you laughed. “Come on, you couldn’t have taken this off?”

“I tried! I didn’t have any makeup wipes or anything fancy, but I used a washcloth and did what I could. That stuff is stubborn.”

“Yeah, it can be,” you smiled again, standing up to collect your clothes.

“The bathroom’s right down the hall so you can change,” he said, pointing you in the right direction.

“Thanks. Oh, and one more thing,” you turned around, pausing in the doorway. “Drunk me wasn’t lying. You do have really pretty eyes.”

[jaehyunspeachparty]

1.14

warnings: This story contains content that could be problematic for one or the other. Among other things, the story may contain content about sex, rape, late pregnancy, relationship with a large age difference, and others. Just because it's in the warnings doesn't mean these topics will appear, but they will definitely be covered in the story. The content of the story is fixed and doesn’t change. If you don't feel comfortable with these topics, then it's okay if you don't read the story. I just write down my ideas here and I just enjoy writing about life. The fact that some things in life are not rational or weird for some people is also part of it.

Sunoh thought he was quiet and wanted to deal a little with himself. Especially after talking to Chichi, he went to his room and didn't want to be disturbed. However, Sunoh lived in a house with a large family and privacy was rare. And in times like these, he needed a lot of privacy in order to let his imagination run wild. He quietly watched a porno and imagined that Chichi was there. But he could hardly relax because his door opened suddenly. "Sunoh what are you doing?" Geon came into the room looking for his big brother. Sunoh immediately put the blanket over his body and turned everything off. "GEON! GET OUT NOW!" He was in a panic and couldn't believe his little brother just walked in without knocking. But what he didn't expect was that he would start crying. Sunoh looked at him in surprise and didn't quite understand his reaction. "You never do anything with me," sobbed Geon, looking sadly at his brother. "WHAT? That's not true at all!" Sunoh was totally surprised. "Yes. You go boxing with Kiwoo and you always talk to Miga. But you never do anything with me." Geon pouted and crossed his arms. Sunoh looked at him in shock. He never felt that Geon felt neglected. "Okay okay. Let's do something." Sunoh sat up and Geon came to his older brother with a big smile. Geon and Kiwoo both looked up at their big brother. Sunoh was like a role model for them, they always followed him. At the next moment there was another knock on the door and Sunoh thought that he would never be left alone. "Sunoh? Ah Geon you're here too." You were standing now in the room too. "Mum, what's up?" He asked and sighed. "Have you already packed your things?" You spend the weekend with Sunoh, Geon, Kiwoo and Johanna, Jaina, Jasper. You booked a hotel and wanted to spend some time with the children. Miga had a shooting all day and she had to prepare for the new drama over the weekend. So she stayed at home with Jaehyun, who had invited Johnny, Jeno and Jaemin to drink that evening. "Yes, everything is ready," said Sunoh and pointed to his bag. "And you Geon?" You raise your eyebrow and look at your other boy. But he shook his head. "What did I tell you? We're leaving in an hour." You cross your arms. "I want to stay with Sunoh," Geon said then and pouting. "You can spend the whole weekend together," you say, but Geon didn't want to leave. "Come on Geon, I promise that we will do something all by ourselves at the weekend. Without Kiwoo. Okay?", Sunoh then said and looked at his little brother. Geon nodded and smiled. He jumped up and then took you by the hand. When you and Geon were outside, Sunoh immediately locked the door and finished what he had started. Meanwhile you go to his room with Geon and open his backpack. "Mummy?" Geon sat by the bed and looked at you. "Yes my darling?" You ask him while you are folding his pyjamas. "Am I going to be that cool later, like Sunoh?" He asked and you turn around in surprise. "You're already cool," you say with a smile and stroke his cheek. "But the others in my class say I'm not cool. And everyone likes Sunoh. Mummy, I want to be like Sunoh." Geon looked at you sadly and you already had a feeling that he wasn't doing so well at school. Geon was always very intelligent, did very easily in school, but had difficulty making friends. Kiwoo always got many invitations to friends or birthdays, while Geon was often alone. "Oh my boy, you are great the way you are. You don't have to be like someone else." You take him in your arms and kiss his cheek. Geon giggled and you hang around a little longer in the hug. He was still your baby of all your children.

Miga was meanwhile at a photo shoot. She just had a break and now time to look at her phone. "Sorry to write to you, I know you have a lot to do, especially with the new drama. But last Saturday was a little weird. Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?" Miga looked at the message Hyunjin had written her. She was annoyed with herself, she didn't want to ignore him. But so much had happened and sometimes she doesn't know how to feel. "No, I'm sorry. A lot has happened and I got a little panic. It's really not up to you!" She sighed and stared at her phone. She was nervous because she didn't want to lose him. She also somehow felt connected to him. "Are you all right?" His message came very quickly. "To be honest ... no ..." She wanted to trust him, tell him everything, but she couldn't. "Can I do something for you?" The message came again fast. "No, I have to deal with it myself. I'm sorry that so little of me has been coming lately." "It's okay. I hope you feel better soon." "Yes, it will be fine. I hope we can see each other soon." She admitted that she liked the thought of seeing Hyunjin again. They haven't been able to meet on schedule since they kissed. "Yes, if you feel better next week, do you have time?" She had to smile because of course her answer was yes. She was very excited to see him again. The next moment she received a message that was less pleasant. It was from you and full of anger. "MIGA! CALL ME NOW! The director called." But what happened?

You are putting the boys' bags in the car when you get a call. It was the number from the school and the school principal answers immediately. "Miss Jung, I have to talk to you about Miga." You wonder what was going on now. "She didn't come to school," he said quickly. "Yes, she has a photo shoot today. We have given notice," you say immediately. "Yes, but she's been missing the whole week," he said and you could hardly believe what he was saying. "What? She wasn't there?" You were so shocked and didn't know how to answer correctly. "No, and if she didn’t come to school and her grades go down, she can’t graduate." That's exactly what you didn't want to hear. You wanted your girl to graduate from school so that she always had all the options. What if she no longer wants to be an actress and wants to go to college? Or even want to study alongside acting? You wanted to give your children all possibilities. "Okay, thanks for the info. I'll talk to her." You try to stay calm, but your hand was already shaking with anger. "Okay. Have a nice weekend!" Said the director and after he hung up you try to call Miga immediately. But she didn't answer her phone straight away because she was at the photo shoot. You write her a message right away and then go straight into the house. "JAEHYUN!" You call your husband and Jaehyun came straight to you with wide eyes. "What's happening?" He hugged you because he immediately noticed that you were completely upset. "Miga skipped school that week." You were really angry, you feel really betrayed by your daughter. You had a deal and she broke all her promises. "What?" Jaehyun was also totally surprised by the news. "Yes, the school principal just called. I wanted to call Miga right away, but she didn't answer." Your pulse rose and snuggled tightly against Jaehyun's chest. "Okay okay. What if you pack the boys and enjoy the weekend and on Sunday we can talk to her in peace. How do you like that?" Jaehyun was very calm and he strokes your back. "Yes, that sounds good." You lean against his shoulder and look up at him. "Very good. Now have a nice trip." Jaehyun grinned and he slowly bends down to kiss you. His kiss was so gentle and soothing. "I'll miss you," he whispered as he slowly pulled away from you. "Me too," you say and sigh. You wouldn't want to leave him now. But it was time to go.

It was now late in the evening. Johnny, Jaemin and Jeno were there and they drank all evening. Everyone was pretty drunk by now. They listened to music, ate pizza, and talked. It was a nice evening to be alone with the boys again. "Guys, I have to tell you something," said Jaemin then and he was already quite drunk. "I want a child too. You are all fathers, I now want a child too," he slurred. "Well, you just need a woman," said Jaehyun and laughed. "Well, maybe there will be one soon?" Jeno said and grinned broadly. "What? Did we miss something?", Johnny asked and put his arm around Jaemin. "No, there is nothing." Jaemin tried to push the subject off quickly, after all, he didn't want to talk about it in front of Jaehyun. "Oh really? And what about the 19-year-old that makes you rack your brains so often?" Jeno needed to bring Jaemin more and more into an uncomfortable position without wanting to. "What? A 19-year-old? What's going on?", Johnny asked immediately. "Well, I can't get her out of my head, but she's 19 ..." Jaemin didn't know what to say. "Yes, she's really young ...", Jaehyun then said and took another sip of his beer. "Yes, but if it's love...," Jeno said. "I don't know. My daughter is 19 years old. I don't think I could accept that if she was dating a guy your age." Jaehyun shrugged and that was exactly what Jaemin didn't need to hear. "Even if this guy really loves her?" Jaemin asked further. Somehow he felt he had to defend himself. "How often does that happen? And even if this happens, there is so much in between. I would only worry about Miga. I don't assume that you might run after the girl because of horniness, but if someone your age meets Miga, then I think this person has no good intentions." Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders again and was very open with his opinion because he didn't know that it was about his daughter. Jaemin didn't know what to say. "Hello!" Miga came home and greeted the boys right away. She was tipsy too and she hugs her father from behind. "Did the shoot take that long?" Jaehyun asked and kissed her on the cheek. "No, I also had a drink, or two..." she said and grinned. "Miga sit down with us," said Jeno and grinned. "Am I not bothering you?" She looked at Jaemin, who froze completely. "No, not at all," said Johnny then and Jaehyun put the chair next to him for her. "What are you talking about?", She then asked and looked around. "We just found out that Jaemin is in love with a girl," said Johnny. Miga looked surprised, but with a grin at Jaemin. "You don't have to tell everyone that," said Jaemin, looking down. "Why? It's nice, isn't it?" Miga then said. "Well, there is a problem because she is your age," said Jaehyun and shook his head. "But if it's love?" Miga said then. "We already said that," said Jeno. "Okay okay, we've talked enough about it. Change of subject." Jaemin didn't want to talk about it any more and he couldn't even look Miga in the eye. But for the rest of the evening the subject was not mentioned again.

After everyone had drunk, the men grew tired. Everyone slept in a different room and Miga could hear that Jaemin was sleeping in Sunoh's room. She had to think about what Jaemin said that he was in love with her. He had even talked about it with her father, even if he didn't know it was about her. So Miga goes up the stairs and gets into Sunoh's room. Carefully she opened the door and saw Jaemin lie down in bed. He was only wearing his shirt and his Calvins and Miga had to swallow. But until she was standing in the room, Jaemin didn’t noticed her. "Miga? What are you doing here?" He was so drunk and he felt how his head was pounding more and more. "I can't sleep," she said with a smile, playing with her sleeves. She was wearing an oversized sweater and overknee stockings. Carefully she went closer to him until she was standing in front of the bed. "Miga, you can't always come to me." He sighed and lay back. She came to see him several times a week. She snuck out every night and drove to him. Nothing happened between the two of them, but he knew that nothing more should happen. "But I feel so good with you." She sat down on the edge of the mattress and looked at him with her dark eyes. Jaemin never let Miga sleep with him in bed because he knew he was confused and lonely and was more likely to make a mistake because of it. But he was very drunk and knew that nothing could happen. "What if your father comes in?" Jaemin then asks. "He's not coming in. And if he knocks first, I can hide." She lay down with him and snuggled under the covers. "This has to stop ..." Jaemin slurred and closed his eyes. "Why?" Asked Miga, who was still looking at him. "Because you're driving me crazy," Jaemin admitted in his drunkenness. "Am I doing that?" Miga asked further and hoped to learn more from him. Jaemin was often closed, she knew that he felt something for her, but she wanted to know how much. "Miga, you are intelligent. I think you know that ..." he mumbled on, but his eyes were still closed. "Do you dream of me sometimes?" She asked him with a wink and Jaemin's eyes widened. Yes he did. He knew he wasn't allowed to, he knew that wasn't right. What was wrong with him? "So you dream of me. What am I doing in your dreams?" She asked further and put her hand on his stomach. "Miga ... I ... I'm drunk ..." Jaemin tried to concentrate. "Do you dream about this?" She put one leg over his and she starts kissing his neck. "Miga ... not ..." he whispered, but somehow he liked it. He was torn, and even in this depressed state, it was difficult for him. But Miga was passionate. She caressed his neck and ran her hand over his stomach to feel his abs. But the closer she got to his middle, Jaemin got more nervous. "No not ..." he said. "But you like it. I see it." She was already on the waistband of his Calvins and could see how he had a bump in it. She knew he wanted it. But when she grabbed his dick and started to massaged it lightly, Jaemin pulled the emergency brake. He knew it was going too far. He thought of Jaehyun's words and he couldn't go any further. "Stop it," he said louder now and since he was so drunk he didn't even notice how hard he was pushing Miga away. She almost fell out of bed and hit the edge of the bedside table. "Shit, Miga! I'm sorry. Have I hurt you?" Jaemin looked down at her, who was sitting on the floor holding her arm. But that wasn't what hurt her, it was that Jaemin refused her. Tears came and she felt so heart broken. She dared so much and has now lost everything. She hated herself so much at the moment and it was so uncomfortable for her that she got up immediately and ran out of the room. Jaemin didn't really realize what had happened. He was too drunk to do that, but he knew it wasn't good.

The next morning the men slept long until it was almost noon. Miga couldn't really sleep that night. Like almost every night. Insomnia was her constant companion. And from last night's incident, she was even more anxious. "Hey Miga, are you okay?" Jaehyun was already in the kitchen when Miga got up. She just nodded and grabbed a coffee. "Do you like to talk about something? Is it about school? Don't worry about your mother, we will find a solution." Jaehyun was worried about his daughter, something hadn't been right for two weeks and he doesn't know what it was. Otherwise she would tell him everything. "OK." She tried to smile because she saw her father trying hard. But Jaehyun wasn't happy. "Do you want to have a father-daughter evening or something like that in the evening?" He asked. "Daddy, I really just want to be alone today." She sighed and Jaehyun's heart ached. He wants to do so much, he would do anything for her. But she has to say what's going on. "How does it look tomorrow? Your mother and your brothers won't come back until early in the evening. Maybe we want to do something?" Jaehyun didn't give up, he saw that his daughter was having a hard time and he wanted to be there for her. Miga knew that, and she also knew that her father wouldn't give in. "Okay Daddy." She smiled and Jaehyun hugged her. "Now eat something." He passed her a croissant and smiled. "Dad, I'm not hungry ...", she tried to say, but Jaehyun shook her head. "You have to eat something. You are very weak." Miga knew that she couldn't say anything against him. So she took the croissant and leaved the kitchen.

Miga went into her room the whole time, but at some point she was too bored and got a little more hungry. Johnny was standing in the kitchen with Jaehyun and they were packing a few things. "Hey Miga, are you okay?" Johnny smiled and Miga was glad he didn't ask her about how tired she looked. "Yes, thanks. Daddy, are there any more croissants?" She asked carefully. Jaehyun smiled broadly and pulled out a basket. "More than enough." He kissed her head and gave her the food. "So, let's go upstairs and pack the rest of it," Jaehyun said to Johnny, who nodded immediately. Miga made another coffee and while she was waiting she heard two voices from the living room and she decided to listen a bit. "How are things going with the 19 year old now really?" Jeno looked at his friend and smiled. "Don't ask," Jaemin sighed and threw his head back. "Have you slept with her yet?" Jeno became curious and he had to laugh. "No ... I'm can’t ..." Jaemin lost his words. "Have you ever tried to sleep with someone else, so you know if you just want to fuck her?" Jeno then asked. "I thought about it, even went to a bar with Lucas. I even bought condoms because the ones I had at home had expired. But you know me Jeno, I'm not the type for that." Miga didn't want to hear any more. She couldn’t believe it all. Was she just a joke for Jaemin? Had he just played it all for her? She immediately ran to her room and locked herself. She fell on her bed and started crying. And she cried all day. The pain didn't stop and she just lay rigid. At some point she ran out of tears and just stared out the window.

When everyone was gone, Jaehyun looked into her room. "Hey Miga, I would order pizza. Do you like something?" He asked carefully. She was with her back to the door and couldn't move. She didn't want her father to see her like that. What should she tell him? "No, I'm not hungry." Jaehyun looked at her briefly and was really at a loss. But he closed the door and went back again. An hour later he looked back at her. Miga had barely moved and was still in the same place. "Miga, I left you two pieces of pizza ..." Jaehyun looked at his daughter and was still at a loss. "I'll put the plate on your desk." Jaehyun waited for a reaction, but Miga still didn't move. Jaehyun stood helpless in the room, but then went out again. What should he do? He had never seen his daughter so destroyed. He goes into the kitchen and stared at the plate. What should he do? What did his daughter have? He then took his car keys and went into the garage. He drove to his daughter's favorite bakery and bought the biscuits she liked even as a little girl. He missed the time when the children were so small and their only problem was that they couldn't eat too much sweets. He wished the time back so much and it was so hard for him to see that his children are now facing the real problems of the world. Maybe that was why he really wanted a child. After buying the biscuits, he drove back and went straight to his daughter's room. Miga still hadn't moved, but this time he goes to her and sat on the bed. "Miga, you don't have to tell me what's going on. But if I can help you somehow, then talk to me. I would do anything for you." He stroked her head and tried to calm her down. He also put the plate with the biscuits next to her and Miga immediately recognized that they were the ones she had loved from childhood. She was so touched that her father was there for her that she began to cry again. She turned and looked her father in the eye. "Daddy ..." She cried and cried and couldn't stop. "It's all going wrong ..." she just couldn't stop crying. Jaehyun took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. He stroked her head and tried to calm her down. "I can't go back to school. Daddy please don't let me go to school again." And that's when she started hyperventilating. She gasped and her pulse rose to nearly 200. Jaehyun saw the panic in her eyes. He had never seen her do that before. Something happened because it's not typical for her. "Shhh, all good." Jaehyun hugged her even tighter and it was now as if he was holding his little girl in his arms again. She was suddenly so small and fragile. But Miga did not calm down, she gasped for air and her body trembled. Jaehyun saw the fear in her eyes and he knew he couldn't send her back to school. "I promise you won't go to school at first. I'll talk to your mother. Don't worry." Miga kept sobbing and he was so desperate. "I promise you, Miga. I promise you," he repeated over and over. Jaehyun continued to stroke her head and slowly Miga became calmer again. Her pulse dropped and her breathing slowly stabilized again. Jaehyun was very worried about her, but didn't want to ask any further. It was a step forward that she opened up a bit. "Daddy?" She suddenly asked and she looked up at him. "Yes?" He smiled softly and was glad that Miga was slowly coming to. "Do you still want to have a daddy daughter day today and watch movies?" She asked and Jaehyun nodded immediately. "Yes, I would love to," he said and hugged her tightly again.

The next day you came back with your sons and are finally happy to see Jaehyun and your daughter again. The weekend was good and you had the feeling that the guys were in a better mood now. "Hey, did you guys have a good time?" Jaehyun hugged his sons and the twins laughed. "YESSS," Geon and Kiwoo said at the same time. The three boys then went back to their room. But you pack your things too. You wash all the laundry that has now accumulated while Jaehyun cooks dinner. Kiwoo and Geon were particularly talkative and told their father and sister what they had experienced. You had to laugh and thought it was so cute that they were so excited. After everything was tidied up, the twins were in bed and Miga and Sunoh were in their rooms, Jaehyun decides to bring up the topic of school. "Y/N, Miga is really...I don’t know what to say... I have a feeling that something happened ..." Jaehyun looked at you and you listened to him. "I said she didn't have to go to school anymore." Jaehyun pressed his lips together, knowing that you won't like this idea. "WHAT?" You ask angrily. "Y/N, you should have seen her. I can't send her there." Jaehyun was really worried, but you couldn't believe it. "But then you just decide this without talking to me?" You were angry that he hadn't discussed this with you. "I had to do it. She was so sad and destroyed?" "JAEHYUN! It's about her education. It's a decision that you don't make that quickly. And certainly not alone." It followed that the dispute escalated completely. You were so angry that Jaehyun decided this without talking to you and Jaehyun defended Miga. You two became stubborn and the argument escalated. Education was important to you, Jaehyun saw how bad Miga was. The parent came out of each of you. Miga, who was the only one in the room on the first floor, heard the argument very well. Because their parents were arguing in the kitchen and they were getting louder and louder. That wasn't what she wanted, she didn't want her parents to argue about her. She didn't know what to do, she was so unstable anyway. She picked up her phone and wrote to Jaemin, "Hey, I know things went really bad. But I just need a good friend. Can I come over?" Hearing her parents yelling at each other and getting more emotional, she looked at her phone. Jaemin always wrote back immediately, but this time it was quiet. But Miga couldn't listen to that any longer. She didn't want to hear her parents arguing any further if she knew she was the reason. She packed her bag, took her car key, and snuck into the garage. Because you and Jaehyun were arguing so loudly with each other, you didn't even notice that Miga was driving away. Miag drove fast, way too fast, but she didn't care. She couldn't be home anymore. Even if Jaemin didn't get back to her, she decided to go to him anyway. After all, he hadn't read her message yet. She was so stubborn about him and she felt so close to him. So she parked in front of his apartment, entered the code for the door and took the elevator up. Her heart was racing with excitement, after all, Jaemin had been the cause of her pain the last few days. But he was the only one who knew what was going on inside her. She couldn't believe that he just wanted to fuck her. Jaemin said himself that he's not the type. Miga was so confused. Everything was so confused the last few weeks. The only thing she wanted was love. Was that asking too much? She rang nervously at Jaemin's doorbell, hoping he was home. But it didn't take long before the door opened. Jaemin stood and looked at her with wide eyes. "What are you doing here?" He asked surprised. "Jaemin, I just want to talk. I don't know what to do next, I ..." Miga was completely upset, but suddenly she saw a woman walking through the room wearing only a towel. "Is that our food already?", She asked and slowly turned in the direction of the two. "Okay, I get it ... I'm sorry for the bother." Tears welled up in Miga's eyes and she just wanted to get away. "No, wait it is ..." But it was too late. Miga ran out of the house as quickly as possible. "Who was that?" Asked the woman and Jaemin just stared into the corridor.

Miga sat in the car and stared into space. She didn't know what to do. She was so out of all her senses and didn't know what to do next. Should she confide in someone? But at that moment her phone lit up because she got a message. "Hey, hope you are fine. We got our band name today and you will hardly believe it, we are forming a new NCT group, a kind of new generation of NCT. Maybe that's why your father was always so strict because he wanted that we are doing a good job to represent his group honorably. Well, I'll be home soon, the training was long today. Have you eaten yet?" Miga had to smile when she read his message. Hyunjin was always so cute and she felt like she was wronging him. She treated him way too badly and he was so nice. She should be honest with him and confess that there is someone else too. But at that moment Miga was so out of her mind that she could no longer think logically. "Do you have time? I'm nearby.", She wrote back and Hyunjin immediately replied with a "yes". Miga drove off again, again too fast, but she enjoyed racing through the streets. Hyunjin was waiting downstairs and immediately got into her car. "Hey, where are we going?" He asked excitedly. "Anywhere," said Miga and Hyunjin quickly realized that she was not quite in her mind. She was quieter than usual and she was getting faster and faster. Especially when she was on the freeway, she raced pretty fast. Hyunjin got nervous and looked at his crush. "Miga, you are driving too fast," he pointed out. But she didn't answer and went back on the pedal. "Miga what's going on?", Hyunjin asked panicked. Miga kept staring at the street and sped on. She didn't answer and drove and drove and at some point she drove off. Hyunjin didn't know how long they had been on the road, but it was the middle of the night and there were hardly any cars on the streets. Miga drove to a small town and drove until she reached a beach. In the summer this beach was lively and full of people. But it was quiet now. It was winter and night. "Miga why are we here?", Asked Hyunjin and like Miga got out of the car. Miga ran on through the sand and stopped in front of the water. "When I was little we were here a lot. The twins learned to swim here and Sunoh and I built sandcastles. We use the time until it got really cold." She turned and looked at Hyunjin. The wind blew through her hair and the tears rolled down her cheeks. "I wish I could be a kid again," she said, and started crying. Hyunjin didn't know what to say so he walked up to her and hugged her. He already knew the whole trip that something was wrong with her and he saw that she was broken. "I'm sorry Hyunjin." She was crying into his chest. "It's all good," he said gently, but Miga shook her head. "No, I'm not fair to you." She cried and cried. Hyunjin took her and sat with her on the sand. "Tell me. Tell me everything," he said very gently and Miga did it all at once. Although she did not know Hyunjin for long, she trusted him. She began with the fact that her ex-boyfriend and a schoolmate tried to rape her, that she no longer wanted to go to school because of it, that her parents were arguing about it and she also told him about Jaemin. Even though she knew Hyunjin liked her, she was honest. "I'm sorry, I'm not fair." Miga was much calmer by now. "So you like Jaemin?" He asked. She nodded and looked in the sand in shame. "Do you like me, like more than a friend?" He asked. "Yes ...", she confessed and Hyunjin didn't want to hear more. He took her hand and smiled. "Well, then I'll fight for you," Hyunjin said then. "No, you don't have to ..." "I want. If I have a single chance with you, I want to take advantage of it," admitted Hyunjin and was serious. Miga couldn't believe it, she didn't know what to say, but Hyunjin put his forehead on hers and smiled. "Should we go to a convenience store and buy warm ramen?" He asked and grinned. "That sounds like a good plan," Miga then said and smiled again.

Jaemin sat at the table and stared at his food. "What's going on?" Asked the woman sitting across from him. "Is it because of the girl?" "Yes ... she ...", he didn't know what to say. "Is it the one you told me about? The one who is too young for you and causes other problems, but you are somehow in love with her?" She asked further. "Yes ..." said Jaemin shortly and succinctly. "And why don't you just tell her that I'm your best friend who's gay?" She had actually only come over because Jaemin called her and didn't know what to do about Miga. "Maybe it's better that way ...", Jaemin admitted, but his best friend shook her head. "No no, you like this girl, you have to fight for her!"

providentia masterlist

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[outlawsworld]

Trusting strangers - Chapter 2

Arthur Morgan x Female reader

Summary: Reader reveals the truth about where she is from but is worried about the consequences.

Warnings: mention or abuse and rape. But just fluff.

Author notes: I enjoyed writing the first one so much that I had to continue. Please let me know if you like it and if I should keep writing. I know a fair bit happens in this chapter but it's all setting the scene for the rest of the story ❤️🤠

Chapter one here

--

''We got time'' The words rang in your ears like alarm bells. You knew you had no choice but to tell Arthur the truth.

You had played out in your head this situation many times. How you were going to tell the gang the truth. Hosea was going to be the one you told. He had always been kind to you and he would definitely listen to the full story. The last person you expected to confess to was Arthur but here you were. 

You breathed out a sigh and looked down at your feet. Arthur was still standing over you hand ready at his gun belt.

''Well go on, spit it out'' He grunted impatiently. You looked up at him straight in the eye almost pleading with him to not make you speak but it was no use. Arthur was not one to back down from what he wanted.

''My daddy owned a ranch just outside of a city called Saint Denis. He bred and sold fine horses. They were worth a ton of money so this attracted all sorts of people. Mostly rich people but also thieves as you would expect. There was only me, my daddy and my mamma. My mama was a small housewife that didn't have any fondness for horses. I guess they hoped I would be a boy so they had someone else to help. My dad didn't care that I was a girl because as soon as I could walk, I could ride. He taught me everything I know about horses and he knew a lot.'' You paused to look at Arthur.

His expression was unmoved. ''So you're a rich girl?'' He laughed under his breath rolling his eyes.

''Hold on a minute, I told you it was a long story and I ain't done'' you fired back irritated by Arthur's reaction. ''He also taught me how to shoot. Having so many good horses we had to learn to defend our ranch from thieves that came along. I got good at it too. I would spend hours helping my daddy on the ranch and then go practise shooting everyday.'' You looked back down at your feet.

''One night a big storm hit and I went out to make sure the horses were alright. I heard gunshots coming from the house but by the time I got there these men had killed my daddy and beaten my mama bloody. My daddy had managed to gun down a load of them before they stormed the house. I didn't have a gun on me and they soon grabbed me too. They kept me and my mama hostage for a few months. Feeding us next to nothin' and beating us when they wanted somethin' to do. My mama didn't last long, not with all the beatings before....well at least she is in a better place.'' You closed your eyes for a moment trying to hold back tears as you remembered the past events. Composing yourself you carried on.

''After she passed the men thought beating me wasn't as fun anymore. They needed something more...I tried to fight them off at first but I didn't have the energy. They would pin me down, rip my clothes off me and have their fun. There was nothin' I could do. I was defensless and weak. This went on for a month or two but it felt like a liftime'' Your voice wavered but not with sorrow but with anger and embarrassment. 

''One night, one of the men came and had his way with me but after forgot to tie me back up and passed out drunk. I managed to sneak through the house to my Daddy's gun closet. Got my hands on his best rifle and took out every single one of the men in the house. There were more of them outside and I knew they had heard the gunshots so I took off. Grabbed our best stallion and rode as fast as I could outta there.'' 

''Some came after me but I managed to gun them down but there was a witness and I was suddenly an outlaw. My face was plastered on every poster in town. No one would listen to me and if they did no one would believe me. I ran changing from place to place for a couple months. Pick pocketing and hunting to stay alive but I was barely breathing. I hadn't eaten properly in months. A couple of weeks back the men from my daddy's ranch caught up to me and gunned my horse down. They had me surrounded, I tried to give them a good fight but there was too many of em'. Last thing I remember was getting hit over the head with something hard and waking up to Bill finding me. They must have thought they had killed me because I know that they wouldn't have left me there if they knew I was alive. They would have taken me back to the ranch and kept me for their own entertainment. So there. Now you know everything. I've got absolutely nothing and there is a bounty on my head''. You sighed not daring to look at Arthur but needing to know what he was thinking.

The silence was deafening and you could feel your heartbeat getting faster. ''Why didn't you just tell us?'' Arthur finally spoke. His tone was now soft compared to the harshness before. 

''Tell a bunch of strangers there is a bounty on my head? How would I have known you wouldn't just turn me in?'' You scoffed at his question before silence again. Why was he not saying anything? You wanted to know what he was thinking but he wasn't giving anything away. Instead he just turned to his horse and mounted before giving you a look to do the same. You mounted up and kept a slow walk next to Arthur. Your chest felt tight as you hung your head low. The feeling of embarrassment and ashame overcame you as you realised there was no going back. Arthur, the man you barely knew and didnt trust, knew everything.

The ride back was quiet and slow. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other and it was making your mind go crazy. You knew as soon as you got to camp Arthur would tell Dutch and the next day you'll be turned in for your bounty. There was no use running. Arthur had proven he is not a man to be messed with and you knew you wouldn't get far. You came to the conclusion that this was it. There was no point in fighting anymore.

''I'm sorry'' Arthurs low voice brought you back to reality. Shocked, you looked at him and he turned to meet your eye. ''No one should av' gone through all that. Those men got what they deserved''. For the first time he was properly looking at you. He had no sarcastic tone in his voice and he looked genuinely sympathetic towards you. Arthur was the first person you had told and you expected him to just spit and laugh in your face but here he was actually showing kindness to you. 

''It's in the past now.'' You broke the eye contact between you both. ''You gonna tell Dutch?'' although you didn't want to ask, you couldn't help yourself. You had finally found people who were nice to you after months of tourchur and you didn't want to loose that.

''It's your past'' He paused looking away from you ''Not up to me who knows it or not but you may wanna tell 'em at some point'' You nodded gratefully in reply. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. All this time trying to find someone who would listen to your story without calling you a liar or trying to turn you in with no luck. The last person you expected to listen, to truly listen and understand, was Arthur. Maybe you judged him too quickly.

You both arrived back in camp in the mid afternoon. The camp was quiet as people were out doing their daily jobs. The smell of the stew coming from Pearson's pot was mouthwatering after the morning you had. Mrs Grimshaw was the first to greet you as you arrived at the hitching posts.

''Where the hell av' you been Miss (Y/N)?'' She looked you up and down and you dismounted Johns horse. ''We all thought you had up and left'' Her hands placed on her hips waiting for an answer. She looked angry but slightly relived that you had come back.

''It's my fault Mrs Grimshaw'' Arthur intervened ''I took her hunting with me this mornin', I needed more than one horse and she was the only one awake'' Mrs Grimshaw turned her attention to Arthur.

''Well next time let me know before you go off like that but at least you made yourself useful Miss'' She softened her tone when Arthur spoke up for you. ''Better get some food and get on with the rest of your chores then'' she smiled before she walked off to go and yell at someone else. 

You breathed a sigh of relief ''Does she ever take a day off?'' You smirked as you began to untack the horses.

''Nah but you'll get used to it'' Arthur smiled at you and nodded before leaving you to take the buck to Pearsons cart. You watched him leave with a slight warmness in your chest and a smile on your face. 'Get used to it' does this mean you will be sticking around? You assumed Arthur might still have intentions to turn you in and collect a decent bounty but these words changed your thoughts. The feeling of telling the truth with no bad consequences made you relax a little. You began to think if you thought Arthur was the worst man here then this gang isn't too bad..

The rest of the afternoon went quickly. You managed to get all of your chores done in very little time with the help of Tilly and Mary-Beth. You had become very close to these two girls in the short time you were there, almost enough to trust them. Trusting strangers was hard especially when you had been on the run for some time. You learnt only to rely on yourself but these were kind people and they were all in the same position as you. 

''(Y/N)'' You heard your name being called from the hitching posts. ''Come help me with this would ya'' Charles was stood by one of the horses lifting its front leg. Quickly you ran over to him to see what was wrong. 

''You alright?'' You questioned as you observed what he was doing. The horse was losing a shoe but it had twisted and stood on the nail. Before Charles had a chance to respond you grabbed the shoe and started levering it from the horse's hoof while Charles lifted the leg. You managed to get the shoe completely off and without any extra damage to the horses hoof.

''We need to make a poultice to stop any infection but she should be fine in a couple of days'' You patted the mare as Charles released her leg.

''You really know what you are doing, don't cha''' He smiled at you as you got to work with some herbs and material to wrap the mare's foot in. After, you and Charles sat in the shade under the tree observing the rest of the camp while you relaxed. 

You saw Arthur head out again with Hosea riding a big black shire horse. He never got a full day around camp before he was out doing another job again. You couldn't help feel slightly sorry for him as you never saw him truly rest. He must be tired constantly but he never complained as long as it was worth his time. The rest of the camp were beginning to settle for the night and you and Charles peacefully watched the sunsetting. 

''Seems like you have settled in well with the gang'' Charles smiled at you. ''I have only been riding with them for around 6 months and it took me longer to find my place then you have''.

''I just do what I'm told and ask questions later'' You giggled ''But I am glad to have been found by you lot, don't know where I would be if I hadn't'' 

"Probably would have starved" he smirked at you. "I'm glad they found you. I need someone who knows as much about horses as you do" he smiled gesturing to the mare from earlier.

"I'm glad too, like you say I would have died if it wasn't for this gang" you smiled back then looked at the mare. "lookin' after horses don't feel like a chore to me so always happy to help"

Charles looked at you and opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off.

''Charles, (Y/N)!'' Javier called to you both before gesturing to gather round the fire. 

"Come on, better join in or people will start talkin'" Charles helped you to stand and you both walked to join the group.

This became a routine on a night that whoever was in camp would gather round the fire to tell stories. This time Javier told his story and everyone listened intently. You looked around the campfire at each of the gang members and couldn't help but smile. This could work. You could stay here with them and learn to trust each other. The thought made you relax and smile which didn't go unnoticed.

''It's nice to finally see you smile'' a rough voice quietly spoke to you before sitting next to you on the log. He was hushed so it wouldn't draw attention to the rest of the camp. ''I don't think I've seen you smile yet, well not a proper smile anyway''. You looked to see John sitting next to you. He had fresh scars on his face and dark features. 

''Don't think I had reason to'' You turned your attention to him.

''Well it's a nice thing to see. I'm sorry I've never actually had a chance to speak to you. I'm John'' He smiled and held his hand out to you which you shook giggling.

''Why thank you John. (Y/N), nice to finally meet you'' You let go of his hand and you smiled back at the fire in front of you. ''I guess I'm smiling because I'm happy. Haven't felt happy in a while'' you admitted.

''Well...I'm glad you are happy. There ain't much we can offer but at least we have each other'' John looked around the camp and then back to you. ''You will be safe with us. By the way, thank you for going huntin' with Arthur today. I definitely wasn't in the best way this mornin'" he laughed gesturing to his head.

"No problem, it was nice to get outta camp" you smirked.

"I trust old boy was good with you?"

"Oh god, I forgot to thank you for letting me borrow her. Yes, she's a good horse" you smiled looking in the horses direction.

"That she is. Well you must have been good company because I didn't get an earful from Arthur when he got back" John took a sip of whiskey. "Normally I wouldn't hear the end of it"

You spoke to John for a while as you found he was easy to talk to. He told you how he got his scars and how Arthur and Javier had saved him. The scars were healing well and he was nearly back to full strength so he would be off running jobs again soon. As the night drew to a close John walked you back to your tent and wished you a good night before taking his leave. 

You laid on your bedroll in your tent staring at the ceiling. The smile was still plastered across your face and you finally felt like you were in the right place. Everything seemed to fit perfectly. What a day....you didn't want to let yourself get too used to this feeling as you knew that things could change in a day. But just for tonight you allowed yourself the feeling of happiness. You were safe for now.

The next day was slow. You had done all of your chores by midday and there was nothing much to do. The only reason you felt like this was because for the last two days you had been out of camp. So being cooped up all day was slightly boring. You decided to go round and see if anyone needed your help. John was just about to go on watch so you asked to tag along which he accepted gratefully. It was a nice sunny day without a cloud in the sky so you were more then happy to sit out with him.

''You know it's nice to 'av company for once. Can get boring by yourself'' He walked to the spot to keep a look out and you sat at the bottom of the tree beside him. 

''Well I'm glad I could tag along. I like to keep busy'' You admitted.

''Really?'' He asked surprised ''The rest of the girls are normally happy to 'av the afternoon off but if your ever bored feel free to join me'' 

You sat with John for a couple of hours talking about the gang. ''Nah, he's a lazy old man but he's harmless. Wait till he tells you stories from when he was young. That'll make you laugh'' John laughed whilst talking about Uncle. 

''I'll keep that in mind when I'm next trying to avoid him'' You were both in fits of laughter that tears were almost falling from your eyes. Soon you composed yourself and Bill came to take the next watch. Without hesitation you stood up and followed close behind John back to camp before Bill offered for you to sit with him as well.

John giggled at this ''You ain't a fan of Bill then?'' 

''I'm just cautious. He's never the kindest''. Plus you didn't want to admit it but you really enjoyed John's company and replacing that with Bill's would have been dissapointing. 

"Yeah I wouldn't say that but he ain't so bad. He's dumb as rocks but he won't hurt ya" John comforted you. He patted you on your shoulder, gave you a friendly smile and went to his tent for some rest.

When you reached the camp you went to sit with the girls and little Jack. They were braiding each other's hair and Tilly was teaching Jack to make a flower chain. You complained about how bored you had been all day and they all hmmed in agreement. Before long you were all talking about Mrs Grimshaw and how she thinks she is the one in charge around here. Once you had your hair neatly braided by Abigail you decided to head to your tent to have a nap but as you were making your way across camp you heard shouting as Hosea and Arthur arrived back from their trip.  

You carried on towards your tent expecting them both to go to the rest of the camp when you caught a glimpse of Arthur heading straight towards you.

''Y/N'' Arthur called to you. This was the first time he said your name and somehow it hit differently with you. Something inside you said if your name was worth learning then he had accepted you into the gang. You stopped in your tracks and before you knew it Arthur was standing in front of you. ''I've got something for ya'' He motioned his head to follow him and without question you did.

He took you over to the hitching post where a beautiful Black, American Saddler, Stallion, stood. You gave Arthur a confused look as you approached the horse giving it a firm pat on the neck. 

''You don't have a horse and....Well Hosea needed to sell one so....and I'm starting to like my new one. I thought'' He paused and looked at your shocked face as you realised what he was trying to say. ''Well he's yours if you want 'im''

Was this real? Had Arthur gone out of his way to get you your own horse. You looked at the beautiful stallion and back to Arthur. ''I don't know what to say'' Your mouth was hanging open but your lips were upturned into a smile. 

Arthur smiled at you ''I wanted to say thank you for helping me out yesterday'' He paused as you nodded at him with a grateful smile. His voice was soft and genuine again. ''This was the best one of a bad bunch, I knew I couldn't get you a cheap nag as I remembered you knew too much about 'em. Didn't think I would get away with it" Arthur joked but tried to keep a straight face as to come across serious.

''Thank you Arthur'' You smiled before fully looking over the horse. Arthur blushed under the brim of his hat at hearing you say his name. You could tell Arthur didn't want you to think he was capable of kindness as he made up the excuse of getting you a shit horse. But the more you looked over the stallion the more you knew that it was a fine one. It wouldn't have been cheap if he had actually bought it. ''I owe you one'' You said trying to look at him from over the horses back. 

''You can help me with a job tomorrow if you are up for it? Gives you chance to test your steed out'' He took the saddle off the horses back ''It's just a little house robbery but I need another pair of hands just in case something goes wrong'' .

''Sure'' You took the bridle off the horse ''but wouldn't you rather go with one of the men'' You gave him a questioning look.

''You are just as good as any of 'em by the way you handled yourself yesterday'' Arthur got a brush out of the saddle bag before passing it to you. ''Unless you feel you ain't up for it'' he teased you waiting for a reaction.

''Oh, I'm more than up for it'' you smirked at him before beginning to brush your horse down. ''I was just making sure''.

''I'll let you two get acquainted then'' Arthur gave you a cheeky smile before heading over to the rest of the camp leaving you with your new horse. 

You couldn't help but feel excited to go on your first real job for the gang. Does this mean they trust you. So many thoughts rushed through your head but the main one was......what do I name you? 

While you were thinking about names you heard a man screaming from the camp. You looked over to see what all the noise was and you saw Dutch, Bill and Arthur standing around the man they had tied to one of the trees. He had been there the whole time you had been in the camp. Tied to the tree like that for weeks on end. You avoided him most of the time as you had no idea why he was there and you were new to camp. Fratanising with the enemy wouldn't look too good for you. Occasionally you would ask him if he was okay but that was all.

They had pulled his trousers down and Bill was holding a huge pair of tweezers threatening to geld him. You watched as you saw Arthur's face hardened again as he threatened the man. He was so confusing, one minute you think he is a kind caring man and the next he does something like this. You had to think twice as you had done things you were not proud of too, to servive, and maybe that's all he was doing. Although he seemed to be enjoying this a bit too much. Doubt filled your thoughts and suddenly you couldn't help thinking maybe he was only showing you kindness to keep you on there side, to stop you running off. You might be valuable to them. There was already $2000 on your bounty, imagine if that went up the longer you were an outlaw.

You pushed these thoughts to the back of your mind as you watched them untie the young man from the tree. Arthur pushed him into a walk and Dutch hollered for John to go with Arthur and Bill. You managed to hear them talking about finding an O'Driscoll hide out. Before you knew it the four men were riding out of camp on another job.

"No rest for the wicked" you wispered into your horses ear.

You began to regain your thoughts. "Dallas, I think that suits you" you carried on brushing the stallion until he was gleaming and it began to get dark.

There wasn't many of you round the campfire tonight. You sat with a bowl of stew and kept warm by the flames. Someone grabbed your shoulder and you looked up to see Hosea stood over you.

"How you doing little lady?" He asked. He reminded you of your daddy in this moment. 'Little lady' used to be what he would call you but he also had the tender look in his eye, the same look Hosea was giving you now. He was like you dad in many ways the more you thought of it. He was kind and soft but tough and stern when he needed to be. Just the other day you saw him threaten Bill with his pistle because Bill was too drunk and getting on his last nerve.

"I'm alright Hosea, and you?" You answered back.

"I'm not bad, thanks for asking" he looked around the campfire for a minute. "Fancy accompanying me on a stroll round the camp?"

You nodded your head before standing up. Hosea held out his arm for you to link yours through as you set off on your walk. You were both quiet at first, it wasn't at all awkward but peaceful. The noises from the surrounding nature was relaxing, you could hear the water stream nearby and the sound of owls in the trees.

"Where did you get off too last night, anything exciting?" You decided to break the silence.

"Arthur and I decided to go hunt a bear I had heard about. The animal was about the size of a house and unfortunately got the better of me" he turned and smiled to you but he seemed troubled. "Arthur mentioned that you had told him about your past" you eyes widened as Hosea spoke. Suddenly your heartbeat raced and you began to look around for some sort of trap he was walking you into.

"Whoa, calm down there" Hosea petted your arm. "He didn't tell me anything just that you will tell your story when you are good and ready. He said to trust you"

You felt a sudden rush of relief which made you dizzy. Hosea saw the look on your face of panic and paused for you to say something. "It's not that I didn't want to tell you Hosea" you looked at him and you saw your farther in this moment. You went with your gut feeling which was screaming at you to tell him everything.

Hosea listened to every word as you spoke, not once turning his glance away. When you started to get upset he took both your hands in his and squeezed them tight. The warmth from his hands gave you strength and made you trust him instantly. After you finished he pulled you in for a long hug. You didn't know how much you needed human affection until the moment. The tears came streaming down your face and soaked his shirt but he didn't seem to mind. He was warm and you felt safe in his arms at this moment.

Hosea broke the hug before lifting your chin to look him in the eye. "You fit in here more than you know. We need you just as much as you need us and I promise that no one will ever lay a hand on you again" he smiled and you knew he wasn't lying. "Arthur speaks very highly of you, sees great things and now I do too".

You felt a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. Maybe Hosea was right, maybe you did fit in more then you ever cared to realise. You both made your way back to the campfire and you thanked Hosea for everything before taking a seat. As you looked round the fire it was like you saw everyone for the first time. They were all outlaws running from something. They had all been scared and mistreated but they had each other and you were now part of that. Through all the shit you had been through, you thought no one would understand but everyone here would. Of course they would because they had all been through hell and back together. You just needed to learn to trust them and maybe you were already starting too.

--

Chapter 3

[readwithk]

The Wooden House

On December 19th, 1983 a young couple was roaming the streets of Paris. They were newly wedded and they were on their honeymoon. They were very happy. The girl's name was Anna and the boy was Noah. Noah loved her so much. Anna was a pure soul. She was kind and generous. Although, Noah was not that rich, but he never turned any word down that came out of Anna's mouth. He was madly in love and so was Anna. It was a cold evening. Anna was freezing. The wind was blowing, leaves rustling. All of a sudden Anna said, "I think it is time for us to finish our coffee and enter some decent nice shop. I think it is about to rain". "Yes, why not!", Noah replied, "Let me take you to the most famous wood-craft house of Paris". "Where is it?’’  Anna asked excitedly. "It is on this very street. Come on! Let me take you there my love". They both went towards the shop. The shop was not so splendid, yet they decided to go inside. On entering the shop, they saw an old man sitting in his comfortable chair with some small tools in his hands. He was mending something. There was a boy in the shop who was cleaning some ancient artifacts. The shop had everything made up of wood. The boy greeted the couple and asked them that what they want to buy? The couple replied, "Give us some time". The boy left them. Noah asked Anna to roam and see things for herself. She took a quick round of the store and came back. She was a bit disappointed. She said, "Honey, I do not find anything that suits us". Noah asked her for the reason because according to him there were some pretty showpieces that they could buy. She replied, "Nothing in here reflects love". "Do you think love exists?" The old man interrupted. "Yes, of course I do", Anna replied politely. "No one today loves truly. Those were my times when people were mostly sincere. Nowadays, you will not find someone like that", the old man said. "No sire, it is not the truth. I married my husband two weeks ago and we do love each other so much. We have been through good and bad times, but together. I know him for past six years", Anna said. It began to rain outside. The temperature was freezing. It was getting cold. All of a sudden, the bulb got fused due to some electrical issue. The light went off. The boy fetched some candles and lit them. There was a dim light in the store. The old man caught their attention by saying, "I have something that might reflect love, but it is not for sale. I can show it to you if you want me to". The couple keenly agreed. The old man went to a small room inside the store. Five minutes later, he came out with a small wooden house in his hand. He raised his hand and asked the couple to have a look. The house was indeed very beautiful. "It is perfectly splendid", Noah said in amazement. "Yeah! Indeed", Anna added to Noah's statement. "I made it for someone I love. I made it a long time ago. You people won't have time for my story, otherwise I would have told you the reason behind making this wooden house", said the old man. Noah and Anna insisted that they have plenty of time and that they could amuse themselves with a story on a cold and rainy evening like that. The boy stood there listening to them. Noah, Anna, and the old man sat on the chairs. "Before beginning", said the old man, "I would like to tell you that this story belongs to me". And in this way the old man narrated his story. A long time ago, maybe fifty years ago, when I was a fine young man, I fell in love with a dancer. She used to dance in a club. I used to see her. She was so beautiful and young. She had a lady whom she called aunt. She was in a group of twelve young woman. She was youngest of all. She was seventeen and I was twenty years old. I was not that rich. I used to visit the place with my cousin, Ed. Her name was Elizebeth. I used to call her Lizzy. She liked me, too, but was unable to give me importance while dancing. Once she did and the consequences were not good. She was punished. Next day, after performing she was taking her break. I went near her and asked her the reason of her sadness. She hesitated at first, but later, she told me that last night she was punished by a whip and that she will soon be a prostitute once she will cross her eighteenth birthday. It made me sad. Such a beautiful creature she was. Violating her was the violation of the nature. She was a natural beauty. She asked me about my profession. I told her that I was a carpenter. She laughed, but not in an insulting way. She said that I was unique. Every man she had ever danced for was either a commander or a doctor or some other wealthy man. She never in her life ever met a carpenter before. She seemed glad. My cousin came and he told me that my father needed me on his shop. So, I left her there promising her to meet her tomorrow again. Days passed by, we talked and talked and talked and we fell in love without knowing it. Well, I was the only one who did not know it. One evening I was sitting with her. I was smoking my cigar and she was having a glass of bear. Suddenly she said, "I am going to be sold at the end of this week or may be sooner, I don't know". I was sad after listening to the words coming out of her mouth. "Will you marry me? You and me? We both can go to a farm, have our own kids. You'll take them to school. We will raise them. I will love you with all my heart. I will dance for you on the nights you will come home in a bad mood. I will cherish you in your sad moments. I promise you protection. Protection of your honor and dignity. Till death us apart?", she said with a question in her eyes. "Dear Lizzy", I replied, "Let me talk to my father about this". The next morning, I went to my father. He was very cold as usual. He was working on some project. I gathered all the courage in the world to tell him that I am in love and that I need to marry this girl. I took a deep breath and told him everything. He seemed normal until I told him that Lizzy was a dancer. He yelled at me and told me that dancers like Elizebeth are merely a source to calm oneself and not to marry. I told him she was virgin, but he threatened me with my whole career and fortune. He told me that if I will insist anymore, he would hinder me from his wealth and property. My mother came to me and told me that a man with his mother and sisters alive is not meant to marry a whore. I was immature. I went to Lizzy and broke up with her. I was a very foolish man. It saddened me so much because I had affection for her. She was disheveled. She slapped me and went to her small room. I was already dishearten. The slap added the salt to my open wounds. I drank a lot of alcohol. I was sitting in another bar all of a sudden, I saw a man staring at me from the right corner. When I looked at him attentively, I thought he was someone I know, but I was drunk so I tend to left the place. The next morning, I had nothing to do, so I took a block of wood, my tools, and some paint. That was the time I built this beautiful house. But I had no one to give it to. So, I waited for it to dry and I put it in my pocket. I vowed that I will keep it near me no matter what. It reminded me of her every time I looked at it. On the same evening, I went to the same bar. I saw the same man from yesternight. He approached near me and said, "Are you Mr. Elvis Dean?" I replied, "Yes, indeed I am. Why?". "Don't you remember your old friend, Vis?", he said. Now I knew whom I was staring at. The moment I realized who he was, I stood up and hugged him. He was Albert. Albert Franco, my friend. Nine years ago, he went abroad for studies and he returned as a quite rich man. He was a doctor. We exchanged a few words and then he finally asked me about my love-life. I told him about the melodramatic situation I was caught up in. The main problem was money. He smiled at me and offered me financial help. He told me that he could help me with the expenses. All I need to do is to find a priest and my bride to be. I felt really happy. I went home, said my goodbyes to my family. My father hindered me from the property, but it was fine. I was happy and completely supported by a generous friend. I went to her aunt's mansion. She was not her actual aunt. I asked her to send her out and I negotiated with her the price of Lizzy's freedom. She smiled and replied that Lizzy has gone for her first prostitution project with two men. Her words had an impact of a bullet on me. I was unable to speak. I took a step back and I thought that how scared that poor thing might be. I was heartbroken. I went back to my hotel room. I waited for the next day. The next day, I went to the mansion. I asked about her and she wasn't there. That mistress was not answering my questions. I become gravely worried. Another day passed and still no Lizzy. I was furious this time. I went there to claim what was mine. When I reached there, I saw a prostitute waving at me from her window. I went upstairs. Her name was Eva. She told me that Elizabeth was admitted in a hospital and that she was fighting for her life. I somehow maintained my balance and reached the given location as soon as I could back then. I searched every room hysterically and finally I saw her. Her face was bruised. Her wrists had cuts. Her head was shaved from its right corner. Her feet had rope marks. She was lying there like a lifeless body. She seemed like a corpse. I rushed into her arms and asked her about what happened. She sobbed and told me that she was sold at a very low cost to two men. They took her to a private place and then the poor Elizabeth was raped by twenty men over and over again. I told her how sorry I was. Guilt and grief were flickering through my eyes in form of tear drops. I told her about my father and about my friend Albert who helped me in achieving my goal or the goal that was yet to be achieved. I took out the house and placed it on her chest. She had bite marks there. She was severely molested. I asked her for her forgiveness. She smiled. She was barely able to talk. She gestured me to come closer. So, I did. All I could hear was "I love you Elvis" in her melodious voice. I pushed her gently back. She was staring at me. It seemed like my eyes were a dark pit and she was trying to find something inside of them. She looked into the dark pit (my eyes) and found her own image. She said, "In you, I find me. I find us". Those were her last words. I loved her since. I am a bachelor who was once in love with a whore. And that whore was my proud. In this way, the old man's story came to an end. Anna was bursting into tears and Noah felt lamented. The old man said, "My dear, take it. I was not able to get my love, but you do. Every time you will look at it, you will remember me and Lizzy. I want you to pray for me. I want to be with her in the after-life. Take this". Noah interrupted, "But it is special for you. How can we take it?" "So, it is for you, too. It reflects true love and weren't you looking for something that reflects true love?", asked Elvis. Anna said, "Okay sire, but we will be paying for it. How much for it?" "There is no price for affection my child", the old man replied. Noah interrupted, "take this", pulling out his wallet and placing a fifty Euro note on the old man's palm. "I think the weather is fine outside now. Let us leave love before it gets rainy again", Noah said. They then greet the old man and left his store. Elvis wiped his tears, sat in his chair and started counting his money. The servant who was quiet for so long came near and said, "Master, you have a wife, six daughters, three sons, and five grand-children. Why did you lie?" Mrs. Elvis is from a very respectable family, I know. Then why did you lie?" The old man laughed and said, "If a five Euro thing can be sold in fifty, wouldn't you sell it for a greater profit? Sometimes, we have to take what is ours by one way or another." The boy was disgusted by the old man's wickedness, but he was merely a servant so he remained silent and went back to clean the artifacts.

[aaalllice]

Random night in Small Heath

idk if i ... maybe i should explain this ... it's like 3am and i just wanna hang out with the boys in peaky blinders world ... that's too much to ask ?  

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

imagine you just relax in a random night out with jonh finn micheal and isiah.

( I let you decide your life) (are you a peaky blinders? or just live you to Small Health nothing more? it’s up to you ))

Wearning : mention of rape on the reader , bad words, alcohol

the story is not at a previous moment in the series (just that Finn is a little older and Michael is already there)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyway, you are friends with the youngest Peaky Blinders and except Isiah, they are all part of the Shelby family. You are not afraid for your life, you are more than well protected, you fear nothing or nobody, the feeling of invisibility makes you a bit arrogant.

Tonight is another night and like every night in Birmingham the bars and the streets are full.                                                  You and the guys love this atmosphere, being the kings of these streets and that nobody resists you, you love to hang out, drink, laugh, do bullshit ( like throwing firecrackers at people who are fucking in the street )

So it was a good night the whole gang was there, you were going to have fun, John was already very drunk, Michael was never really drunk, but he already had a glass of whiskey in his blood. Finn and Isiah had already had two beers before coming, so you were the only one with a dry throat so far.              We had to fix it! 

~~~~~~~

I’m gonna go the first person -I-

~~~~~~

We’re all rushing to the Garrison, in addition to having free drinks, Arthur became the owner so an atmosphere of madness is guaranteed.

after a few drinks, I realized I was alone, the guys were gone, the traitors. I got up hard, I took a few steps before getting accosted by a bastard, 2 short minutes without the guys and here, and I get fucked up. The man looks at me as if I were a piece of meat, he starts touching my hip.

Okay, either I kick his ass or I ignore him and rush out to the door, I chose the second option, I feel too drunk to try anything (how many glasses I have to drink 5 or 6 can be 10), arrived at the door, the man pushes me out, I’m falling to the ground, damn it, I shouldn’t have drunk so much, I’m having trouble getting up, I shouldn’t have challenged John to box before yesterday, I still have bruises everywhere (of course he didn’t want to hit hard but I told him and that if I didn’t teach myself to hit I could never defend myself).

 Before I was even standing I felt raised and pressed against a wall, the asshole is trying to take off my top, all right, this is the time to remember John’s moves, but as usual, I’m never really focused when I’m with the guys, fuck me!                 

Well, like anyone living in Birmingham I have a knife in my pocket, I push him as hard as I can, to get him off my neck, he pulls back a few inches, by the time I grab my knife, and in less than a second, I stick him in his left leg.

He throws a chilling scream in my back, pulls out the knife, and sends me back more violently than the first time, that’s when I realize what’s going on, I’m going to get raped. No, it’s not possible. I push it, I hit it hard. I’m too drunk and upset to succeed.

Call for help, we’re a Small Health, everyone’s too high to see what’s going on, I feel his teeth sticking my skin, I’m in so much pain, I push him harder.    When suddenly I feel it gone, away from me, but not because of my blows but rather because of an external force.

I fall to my knees, caught my breath, and raised my head, I had come to my senses in a second, ready to hit that bastard, some movement I learned before yesterday came back to me in memory. but And there, just as I was about to get up, I saw the man’s body fall heavily to the ground.

what the fuck? ; I didn’t think I could put k.o someone just with my thoughts.

So, you might need another private boxing class ; said he has half in blood, and drunker than at the beginning of this evening.

Are you fooking kidding me? I thought I was going to die ; say I, with arrogance mixed with anguish (my honor was at stake, if I was seen weak it was over for me)

Ok ok come this way; he put his arm on my shoulder, I feel protected, it was comfortable 

thanks, John-boy; he gave me his famous arrogant smile

I think I saw the boys on that street, let’s go; we started walking, still in the same position

Bloody hell, I thought I was gonna lose a tooth ;  he touching his jaw

Would the great John Shelby have been afraid of losing ? ; with sarcasm

No never, he hesitated, maybe a little, I mean a little fear for you

he just said... no we’re just friends he’s worried because we’re friends nothing more but maybe.... no.... not John one of my best friends, no way,.....

I was going to answer when a big firecracker fell right on our feet, we are throwing to the side to avoid it, half surprised, we heard laughing.                    it was the boys, who try the new firecrackers to steal from the Lee family, Michael threw them on us.

we are looking at John before we laugh, we joined them running (John always with the bloody face) We threw 30 firecrackers that night, drank some more beer, and set fire to a nice car before returning to the Garrison, where everyone had gone, only Arthur who fucks a woman on the counter, He greeted us and told us to go fuck ourselves in passing.

We settle in the backroom, the youngest is asleep quickly. With John, we waited until Arthur left to close the garrison and return to the room at the back. I sat on a bench, ready to try to fall asleep. After what had happened to me, I had tried to forget, but nothing did, I begin to worry, what if the man came back? No, John, he took care of it, but what if it happened to me again? And if it was my fault, maybe I shouldn’t have come tonight. John comes to bed next to me (or rather on me if you want my opinion)

he looks at the ceiling,

It was a good night, don’t you think? I mean, after...

Shut up, I don’t want to think about it anymore

Oh yeah okay,......., you just want to feel my strong arms around you ; said he with a light laugh

I pretend to give him a slap

in fact, yes

I didn’t have time to add a word that he had already put his arms around my shoulders

good night darling

good night john-boy

and this is how normal nights end at Small Health, even if in my stomach something fly, drenched, explode, a strange feeling that I had not felt before, John and I had always been close but no more than with the others of our band. I always found John handsome nice and funny and caring but he was just my best friend that’s all, nothing more

But that night was almost like all the others, for once I fell asleep on something more comfortable than the sidewalk, stairs, or my bed.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this is not what I wanted to write basic, I wanted to make a story short folds with more chill and more gangster atmosphere.

I don’t think to make a continuation but well if you wanted to tell me.

I mention a serious matter, that should not be taken lightly

ispiration song : freaks

High Enough

Love Is A Bitch 

Wisky in Hell

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Tenya Lida x fem! Reader

Warning: Mentions of attempted rape, vaping, and then kissing~kinda

Inspiration: I’m Yer Dad by GRLwood (idk why)

“Get your feet off the desk! You have been here for five minutes and you are already destroying school property!” Oh boy... you recognized that voice. 

Walking into class on your first day of high school at UA, you were met by an unwelcoming yet familiar sight. There stood your long time acquaintance Tenya Iida, yelling at a student who had their feet on the desk. 

As you two met eye contact, you smiled, happy to have something familiar in all of this chaos. Walking in, you walked in Tenya’s directions before a bunch of people surrounded you.

 “You must be that girl from the exam! I saw you swing that pole at that robot that went down instantly!”, “Wow, your quirk is so cool!”, “Can you change the size of people?” All these questions from your fellow classmates filled your head as you answered them.

Iida, on the other hand, was having a hard time processing what he was looking at. One, L/N Y/N had gotten into UA, even 1-A to be exact. She was known for being a party animal, not knowing anything about anything, and hooking up with everyone left and right.

The other part was... that between the last day of middle school and today, you had... changed. You were a lot... curvier in certain areas, your hair was longer, you had grown a few inches, and overall you looked... prettier. 

Even though you were known as the cutest girl in Iida’s middle school, you had become more mature in your looks. So when you looked at Lida with that half grin, he was confused. 

Why were you smiling at him? You had never talked to him once the entire three years you had been at the same school, and now you were happy to see him? Maybe he was over-reacting... yea, that had to be it.

Once you were finished answering questions, you managed to squeeze threw the group of students to get to Iida. Once you arrived, you were out of breath from all the talking.

“I-lida! Hi!” you exclaimed, making him even more confused. “(L/n)… you’re here? Talking to me? At UA?” Iida felt woozy, and almost dizzy. “Uh, I think so.” You took a quick pause, looking at his face.

“God, it’s so good to see you after a whole Summer.” With no warning, you brought him into a tight, quick hug before letting go. You sat your backpack right next to his, smiling ear-to-ear.

“Gosh, after that party I thought I’d never hear your voice again.” Iida thought and thought, becoming even more confused. “Um, I think you may be confusing me with someone else Y/n. We’ve never talked before.” 

Your smile dropped as confusion and worry filled your eyes. “N-no. Remember the party? Where you had one two many drinks and ended up kissing me?” As you finished your sentence, Iida had a flashback.

It was the going away party for the eighth graders in the middle school gym, even though you had decided to hang out with your cooler friends in Mr. Himiza’s classroom. There was Riku, Haruto, Haru, and Yuuto. You had only met these guys two days ago, but they were awesome. You were the last of your old friend group to be at the school, as all of them had been expelled or sent to Juvy. Not you though, how could you tarnish your reputation when you and these guys were planning on running away together. That was, until...

“Stop! Get away from me!” You had walked to the bathrooms, not realizing you were being followed. Lucky for you, Iida was patrolling the school for kids going drugs, and heard your voice loud and clear. “Stop! Please!” you cried out as Riku pinned you against the wall and tried to kiss you while also removing your shirt. “No!” you pushed him back, trying to use your quirk on him. But you were just too drunk and not as powerful as him.

“You bitch! Shut up!” Riku slammed his fist into your head, making your skull hit the wall and cause you to fall back. “There, you’re good. Easy there.” As he put his hand on your shirt once more, Iida came up behind him and grabbed him by the collar, raising him high off the ground. You could see Iida’s muscles through his t-shirt, and man was it hot.

“You better run your as home before this gets bloody.” Iida threatened as Riku nodded, getting down and running out of the bathroom. Immediately Iida looked at you concerned, kneeling down and grabbing your hand to help you up. “Are you okay? Is your head alright? What about your eyesight?” The questions just went in one ear and out the other.

“You saved me Iida.” Iida stepped back, surprised that you even knew his name. “You’re my hero.” you looked up at him with lust in your eyes as he gave the same look back at you. “It’s nothing, I’m going to become a hero in real life.” he looked down, a blush forming on his face. “Wait, you applied to UA?” What else would you expect from Tenya Iida?

“O-of course, only the best to keep the family up. What about you?” You stayed silent, thinking of how you had been blessed with such an amazing quirk but had never strengthened it. You hadn’t ever thought of a career in heroism, but again you had never felt such a desire for a single human being as you were feeling right now.

“Um, UA.” You lied as his eyes widened, shocked by your secret lie. Dang, why did you have to be such a sad human being. “Really?! That’s amazing L/n.” he looked... impressed by you? “Call me Y/n.” By now, you were nose to nose with Tenya Iida, in a situation you thought you’d never be in.

Just as you were about to kiss each other, the sound system alarmed, alerting the students that their parents were waiting for them. As Iida was about to walk off, you grabbed his arm to hold him back. “Wait, I’ll never see you again.” You held him back as he just looked back at you with the most innocent smile. “I’ll see you on the first day of high school. Then we can pick up where we were.” And with that, he walked out of the bathroom, leaving you standing there.

“Wait! Iida!” You ran down the hall past him, trying your best to talk to him before he walked out of your life forever and you never saw him again. “Yes Y/n?” he looked behind him at you, his eyes full of happiness and lust like your own.

Now! Here was your chance to confess that you had lied to his face and would never see him again. But instead, you said the most stupid thing in the world. “I’ll see you soon!” He smiled and waved before stepping into his car. Suddenly, it started raining, but you didn’t care. As you sat in the rain, you realized what you had to do. You would get into UA if it killed you.

Somehow, you managed to get into contact with Present Mic when meeting him at the super market, and somehow convinced him to train you. “Well if All Might can have his protegee, I guess I can have mine!” he smiled, patting your hair nicely. Immediately, the training was awful. You quirk was zoom out, meaning that you could change the size of certain objects and move them with your mind. Hizashi, and eventually Aizawa had you use everything, from rocks to buildings. He made you move the heaviest things with your mind, and had you change the size of people.

At the end of the Summer, he had happily given you a recommendation letter for UA, making you cry for days upon days with the Pro Hero, who by now thought of you as his daughter.

So here you were, standing in the UA classroom, a completely different person.

“Y-you remembered that?” Iida asked, his eyes bugging out in shock. As he thought about it, he remembered how you had almost kissed him and promised to resume your relationship on the first day of high school. He could feel his heart beating, and knew immediately that he wanted to have you as his girlfriend.

 “Oh please Iida, that night changed my life.” 

[chika-the-terrible]

Halloween Party

Steve was hammered but kept digging into the punch like it was a bottomless pit. Fuck Nancy, why did he ever think he had a chance with her? He’d changed himself to fit her needs and this is what he got? He’d fallen so hard, been so in love, and he got nothing in return. But he wasn’t just gonna let her do something stupid, he was better than that. After spotting Jonathan at the party, trying to keep his tears in, he asked the other to take Nancy home. Steve knew that trying to take her home himself would end in nothing but more hurt feelings, tears, maybe even a car crash. But if Jonathan hadn’t been there, he’d still have done it anyway because he was a good person.

“Thirsty much, Harrington?”

“Fuck off.” Steve snarled, relishing in the burn of the punch flowing down his throat. He didn’t know who said it but there was no way he was going home sober tonight, not after the shit Nancy pulled. But he was right in thinking this was some seriously spiked stuff. He blinked, trying to focus as he saw the blond blob out of the corner of his eye. It looked familiar but he couldn’t be sure. He squinted, “Do I know you?“

“Wow. You must be hella drunk.” There was a hand on his shoulder, “Think that’s enough for tonight, Pretty Boy.”

“No it’s not!” Steve slurred, tugging his arm away and almost throwing himself off-balance, “Need it after tonight.”

“What happened?” asked the blob.

“Nancy Fucking Wheeler.” There was a small pause and Steve reached for the punch again.

“Miss Priss really did a number on ya, huh?” There was a gentle tugging on his wrist, “Seriously though, get any more drunk and you might get alcohol poisoning.”

“Better than anything else.” And Steve meant it. Nancy had helped keep himself together after what happened with the Upside Down, and before that he’d always been searching for companionship because his house was nothing but haunted by emptiness. If he got drunk enough he died tonight, all the better. He was the former, washed up King, too. Who would care if he died?

“No it’s not.” The blob took away his cup and Steve fumed, ready to fight back and grab it.

“Give it back!” He tried to snarl, only for it to come out more like a slur.

“You’ve had enough tonight.” The blob’s voice was gentle now and laid a hand on his shoulder. The touch was just enough to cause him to want comfort and he was like, fuck it, and kissed the kind blob. The lips tasted like nicotine and alcohol and Steve just wanted to get lost in them, but then he was being pushed back and fell on his ass.

“What the fuck, Harrington?!” Steve looked up through his blurry eyes at the blond blob, “What the fuck?!”

“You...?” Suddenly Steve’s eyes were full of tears, “You’re just like Nancy! You make me feel like I’ve got someone to turn to and I don’t and I’m all alone again!” And then he was scrambling to his feet and running away. It was hard for him to run straight but he was running out of the house and into the yard before the blob caught up to him and he was tugged around to face the blond.

“Steve, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Leave me alone!” Steve tried to get away but the blob wouldn’t let him go.

“Just tell me what you meant. I wanna help.” The blob insisted, not unkindly, and the grip wasn’t tight enough to hurt. Steve sniffed.

“She- she called us bullshit because she didn’t love me. She was still so hurt over Barb, I guess, and she thought she wanted me when she didn’t. She wanted Jonathan and she doesn’t want me and she fucking dumped me and now I’ve got no one! Everyone who says they love me doesn’t love me at all! Nancy doesn’t love me, my parents don’t love me! You say you care, but do you really? You’re bullshit, just like everyone else!” Steve breathed heavily. He felt like he’d worked himself up into a scream, “You- you made me feel better, like I actually mattered to someone, and I wanted to show you that I liked that you made me feel that way. But you didn’t wanna make me feel better, did ya? You’re a bitch, just like Nancy!”

“Steve, you’re drunk.” said the blob, “You’re not right in the head right now.”

“When am I ever?” Things became even more blurry as he began to cry, “I just wanted to have a good time with my girlfriend, only to find out she doesn’t love me at all. Why can’t I just die?”

“Because,” Steve was tugged into a hug, “You have people who love you.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yeah, but not in a romantic way. I just don’t want you to die.”

“That’s nice. Sorry about the kiss.” Steve began hugging back, “Can you take me home?”

“Sure, Pretty Boy. I’ll stay with you if you want, keep those bad thoughts out of your head.”

“That’d- that’d be nice.” Steve sniffed, “No one’s cared about me this much before.”

“Well, they should. You’re a good person, you’re just surrounded by bad people.”

“You’re a good person too, then. You care about me.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

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

Billy asked for Steve’s keys after Steve drunkenly gave him directions to his house in Loch Nora. Billy kept an arm around Steve to keep him from falling as he helped him inside. The punch at the party was spiked so hard Billy had taken only one sip and thought, No thank you, and stuck to the kegs.

Billy helped Steve to the couch, not sure where his bedroom was, and only left to grab a trashcan for the morning. Steve was drunk out of his mind and Billy had only gone over to talk to him when he noticed Steve taking to the punch like a man dying of thirst. He didn’t expect to get kissed and stumble across a suicidal Steve Harrington. As much as he tried to reason to himself that this was just a friendly thing, that he was keeping Steve safe, his heart was feeling otherwise.

He was worried for Steve, worried what would happen to him if Billy left him alone, and it was definitely not in a friendly way. And he’d liked the kiss! What guy likes a kiss?! Not him! Not- not since... Billy curled into himself as he sat on Steve’s couch, at the other end of where a snoring Steve was. He didn’t like boys, so why was Steve messing with his head so much? Why did Steve remind him of California so much?

“Idiot.” Billy murmured, reaching over to run a hand through Steve’s hair, “Be lucky you didn’t get raped or some shit.”

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

On AO3

[lazyangeltreemoney]

The Sweetest Baker in Brooklyn 3/???

Description: Bucky Barnes is one of the most feared mobsters in all of NYC, however he finds himself falling for the sweetest Baker in Brooklyn who has her own secrets and troubled past.

Word Count: 3330

Pairing(s): Mob! Bucky x Parent!Reader

Warnings: violence, organised crime, alcoholism, abuse, angst, mentions of rape

A/N: there’s a lot in this chapter, nothing too graphic but warning there is a fair bit of violence in this one. Sorry this part took so long to finally be posted. 

Cautiously he pulled the phone out of his pocket 

“Hello?” 

“Hewwo Mister Bucky Sir, I think my Mom needs your help.” 

An hour earlier 

Y/N held onto Benny’s hand as she walked into the house trying to mentally prepare herself for what was to come. Benny wasn’t clueless, he might have been a kid but not clueless. Benny had always been a perspective child which often got him into trouble, being able to see and work out things he shouldn’t. With that Benny could hardly remember the last time he saw his Father. He had also worked out that his mother probably kept him away from his Father for some reason. 

Y/N walked into the house with her biggest fake smile on. Benny noted how it was the same one she used with annoying customers she would silently pray to leave with in the next second. 

“Benny you had an amazing day at school by the sounds of things.” Y/N called into the house taking off her coat and apron. 

Benny went to do the same when suddenly, 

“Y/N get in here with that imbecile.” Brock called back from the kitchen. 

His voice wasn’t the usual mumbling and slurring from when he was drunk, no this was so much worse. Brock sounded stone cold sober and pissed off. 

“Benny get upstairs, Now!” Y/N ordered. 

Benny did as he was told. He waited upstairs for it to start, he knew the routine. His Mom and Dad would argue, there would be yelling maybe the sound of something being thrown or smashed. It could last hours and at the end of it chances are his Mom would be crying. 

So Benny grabbed one of his teddies and a book to try and block out the sound. The yelling started he heard words like ‘Whore’ and ‘Slut’. He tried to focus on his book some more but the sounds just got louder until 

WHACK

It was followed by the sound of his mother screaming. Benny couldn’t help himself any longer, he needed to help his Mom. Grabbing his teddy he ran downstairs. He peered his head and threw the bannister to see a sight no child should have to see.  

On the kitchen table there were photos of Y/N and Benny with the nice man, Bucky. His Father looked furious, calling her a traitor and Benny a bastard. His mother was trying to shield herself from the punches. The scene made Benny feel sick to his stomach. He wasn’t stupid, Benny knew this wasn’t like the school bullies. Feeling helpless was like being sucked into a black hole to the small child.

However there was a saving grace, looking to the coat rack at the bottom of the stairs Benny grabbed the name card out of his mother apron and ran back upstairs to his parents room. He grabbed the phone and hid under the bed. Using his little hands he failed the number and put one finger in his ear to block out the sounds from downstairs.

Ring, Ring, Ring

“Hello.” 

Back at Steve’s House.

“Benny! Benny what’s wrong?” 

“It’s my Dad, he’s hurting my Mom really badly and I can’t get him to stop.” Benny pleaded down the phone. 

In the background of the phone call he could hear Y/N screaming. His blood was boiling, fuck whatever Y/N’s past was she didn’t deserve this. 

“Benny just stay where you are, I’m on my way.” Bucky ordered and hung up the phone. 

Bucky went to walk out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Her house is outside my territory, if it goes sideways I can’t protect you.” Steve warned him with a deep tone in his voice. 

“A kid just cried down the phone to me asking for my help to stop his piece of shit Father hitting his Mom and you’re trying to get me to walk away… You’ve changed Rogers.” Bucky retorted, storming out of the mansion. 

He ran to his car and ordered Sam to give him his fucking gun back. 

“What’s wrong man?” Sam came running handing Bucky his gun.

“Y/N’s in trouble, so is Benny.” Bucky seethed. 

“Shit.” Sam sighed and hopped into the car. 

He wasn’t going to let his best friend go into something like this alone. The car journey there was silent. Bucky was silently cursing that his car won’t go any faster. Sam was trying to get his head around Y/N being the daughter of Pierce and that pig Rumlow being her husband. The stories he’d heard about Rumlow, the man who would do anything for a price. It took knowing Y/N for all of two minutes for Sam to know the marriage must have been nothing more than tatic. 

They finally reached the house. The second they got out they heard the screams, it was a surprise that no one had called the cops. Bucky and Sam both instantly took their guns out and readied themselves. 

“I’ll get the kid, you get Y/N.” Sam ordered. 

The two ran into the house, knocking down the door. Y/N was on the floor, she looked bloodied and bruised. She was whimpering, begging Brock to stop. 

“Oh I’m nowhere near finished with you-” He was cut short from the sound of bullet going into his knee. 

“ARGH!” Brock fell to the floor in agony, screaming. 

Y/N looked up to see Bucky had fired the bullet. He had a dark look in his eyes, something Y/N had only seen a few times before in her life. The glassy eye star of a man who had to restrain himself from shooting to kill. Without a moment passing by Y/N pulled herself and ran toward Bucky. Brock called out for her, calling her a bitch and whore. He could call her anything he liked from now on Y/N told herself she would never have power over her again. Sam had gone upstairs to grab Benny. That left just the three of them left in the room. Bucky seemed to soften a little when Y/N was in her arms. Brock’s calls are almost forgotten about… almost. 

“Oh I see, run into his arms slut, how long do you think he’ll keep me away from my wife and child.” Brock seethed out from the pain. 

That was it. Silently Y/N grabbed the gun from Bucky and marched over to Brock. For the first time in her life she saw fear in Brock’s eyes and it made her smile. Bucky thought the worst,

“Y/N think about this for a second, Benny is just upstairs you don’t want him seeing-” 

BANG

He was cut off by the sound of the bullet being shot into Brocks other knee. 

“I am not your wife anymore and Benny sure as hell is no longer your son, we are going to leave this house and one way or another you will never see us again…understand?” Y/N clicked the safety off the gun and pointed it at Brock’s head. 

Brock defeatily nodded and with that Y/N walked out of the house. Benny quickly followed behind about jumped up into Y/N’s arms. The two held each other tightly as a sense of freedom washing over both of them. A few tears escaped Y/N’s eyes, finally she could have the life she wanted. All four of them went into the car and Bucky drove as carefully as he could so Benny would drift asleep. All the adrenaline leaving his body and suddenly leaving him exhausted. Bucky fiddled with the dials on the radio to help Benny sleep. His head was on Y/N’s lap, Sam kept glancing at the two in the back. Especially Y/N’s face, the bruises were already a deep dark purple and the scabs along her face, it was a hard sight to see. 

“Take her back to Steve’s she needs to see the Doc.” Sam said to Bucky. 

As pissed as Bucky still was with Steve, Sam was right. Also just incase Brock was going to pull some shit, Steve’s house was the safest place. To be honest he didn’t think Brock was going to pull anything within the next century after what Y/N did. It was clear that she had suffered abuse for how many years, silently taking its toll but despite all that, no one, no one messed with her son. 

Y/N herself felt in a haze, she mindlessly played with her sons hair to bring some peace in her mind. Yes, Brock was now in the past but what now? Bucky had come to save her but was he expecting something in return. Her opinion on most men was that they never did anything out of the good of their own heart, especially ones from the mob. Then there was Benny, she brought in just enough money from the bakery but could she even go back there, was it safe. Her mind was spiralling again when suddenly

“Doll, we’re here.” Bucky spoke softly to her. 

She looked out the car window to the most lavish mansion, it was practically a castle. Almost straight out of a story book. All it was missing was a tower with a lonely princess and a dragon. Y/N carried Benny, who was still fast asleep, Bucky placed a hand around the shoulder and then suddenly all the worry she had before seemed to wash away. It was the look in Bucky’s eyes that said ‘There’s no need to be scared from now on.’ 

The four of them all walked in, a blonde man stood in the entrance hall with a red head next to him. He looked stern and the red head… well she seemed to give nothing away. 

“Glad to see you alive, now tell me, is this going to come and bite me on the ass?” The blonde man arched a brow at Bucky. 

“Brock Rumlow won't be a problem however I suggest you call the Doc.” Bucky answered. 

Just as he did Benny began to stir and wake. 

Steve watched quietly as the child stirred and looked around the hallway. It looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head. 

“Momma are we in a castle?” Benny yawned. 

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at the little one. Benny grabbed onto his mother a little tighter when he noticed Steve and Natasha. Steve then studied the two a little closer, Benny seemed fine but Y/N, she looked like she had been through hell, it reminded Steve of his Mom… 

“Nat call Banner down here.” Steve ordered. 

Natasha nodded and headed further into the house. Just as she left Sam offered to take Benny to bed. Y/N went to argue saying how she doesn’t want Benny alone. 

“He’s not alone, he’s with the best bodyguard he could ever ask for.” Sam joked taking Benny out of her arms. 

Y/N watched him go, blowing him a small kiss. Clumsily the kid caught it just before he disappeared upstairs. That just left the three of them in a somewhat awkward silence. Mainly it was the hard stare Bucky was giving Steve that made Y/N uncomfortable. It was clear that something had happened between the two of them but it wasn’t Y/N’s place to pry. 

Then a saving grace appeared coming down the hall. 

“I believe I have a patient, what’s Clint done this time?” The man joked approaching the trio. 

He then saw Y/N’s face and his cheery attitude dropped. The man sighed and softly smiled at Y/N. 

“I take it you’re the patient, right this way Miss.” He pointed to a side door next to the corridor. 

Y/N followed, limping a little as she did. Bucky’s heart dropped a little when he noticed she’d properly been hiding it from the adrenaline. He went to follow her into the side room when Steve called him back. He debated not listening to him, disobeying him and following his heart to Y/N but he had toed the line enough tonight. Banner was more of a gentleman than any of them, he could be trusted with Y/N. 

“What is it Boss?” Bucky grimaced. 

Steve sighed and walked over to his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“You were right, I was being an ass.” Steve admitted, hanging his head. 

Bucky was stunned, only a total of 5 times had Steve ever admitted he was in the wrong. A small laugh escaped him as he processed it. 

“What made you realise that?” 

“Y/N’s face, it reminded me of Mom.” Steve said solemnly. 

Bucky sighed, he remembered the bruises on Sarah’s face and how Steve would come running to him saying how he didn’t know what to do. How when they were barely strong enough they stood up to Steve’s Dad, he remembered Steve pulling the trigger. Long story short, Sarah had lived in a fancy Suburban house with chickens to look after until she passed 2 years ago. 

“Listen, Rumlow won’t be a problem.” Bucky tried to reassure Steve. 

“Is he dead?” Steve asked. 

“No but Y/N shot him in the kneecap and then held the gun to his head threatening to kill him if she ever saw him again, never seen a fucker so scared in my life.” Bucky explained to Steve with a hint of pride in his voice. 

“Your girl did that, wow.” Steve whistled at the thought of it. 

“She’s not my girl.” Yet

“Sure Punk, go see how she’s getting on with Banner then I suggest you all stay here tonight just in case.” Steve said walking away before Bucky could argue. 

Bucky simply shook his head in annoyance and headed to Y/N and Banner. Banner was the on sight Doctor, being in his line of work meant there was a chance of things always ending up with a bullet being somewhere it shouldn’t. Banner had always been a kind man but god help the poor soul who pissed him off. 

Bucky walked into the room, Y/N was sat on the hospital style bed and Banner was sat on the seat next to her making some notes. Y/N now had a gauze of her cheek and a plaster over a scrape on her forehead. Most of the blood had been cleaned away from her arms and face. Her clothes still looked bloody, have to sort that later. 

Y/N’s head turned to Bucky as he walked in the room and a soft smile formed on her face. 

“Ah Barnes, I was just explaining to Y/N here that the swelling should go down with the next few days, for now she can take two of these after some food for the pain.” Banner explained. 

Y/N noted how even his voice was soft, he didn’t look like your typical rough and ready criminal. Maybe she would pick his brains about how he got involved with this another time. Right now she just wanted her son and some sleep. Bucky told her how she would be sleeping here tonight. He had to guide her through the house, she figured that she would have to ask for a map another time. He led her up some stairs and down a corridor until they reached a room. 

Y/N walked it, it was surprisingly homely. Tan carpet along with mustard silk curtains. The big was nearly as big as her whole room back at the house… The house, shit! All of her stuff was still there and she sure as hell couldn’t go back there. 

“Fuck.” She sighed. 

“What is it, Doll?” there was more worry in Bucky’s voice than he was happy to admit. 

“Am I an idiot if I only just now realise that everything I own except for the clothes on my back is still at that house?” She sighed lying on the bed.

As she did she saw the mirror staring back at her.

“ha and even these clothes are bloody and ruined.” She groaned putting her hands in her head. 

Bucky walked over to her and carefully held her hands. Part of him wanted to scold himself for how much he enjoyed holding them. 

“Doll you did the right thing leaving then and there, on top of that you haven’t got to worry about nicknacks you left there, I promise you that here you’re every need will be taken care of.” Bucky spoke softly to her. 

“Yes but how long can I stay here?” There was no hope in her voice. 

“As long as you need.” Bucky reassured her. 

Y/N looked up into Bucky’s eyes. Every word he spoke was so sincere when he talked to her. It was having a constant star in a storm… and yet she still had to ask,

“Why would you do all of this for me?” 

At that moment Bucky couldn’t put it into words, so he decided not to. Instead he leaned forward and caught her lips. He was gentle and held the none bandaged side of her face. After the first few seconds of shock went away Y/N slowly kissed back. It felt so perfect, Y/N had never been kissed like that in her life. It was nothing like the kisses from Brock, they were hard and rough and almost painful. This, this was sweet and soft and caring. When they finally parted Y/N was almost breathless. Bucky couldn’t help but smirk a little at that. Y/N was still gathering her thoughts when nonchalant Bucky got up and walked to the drawer. He pulled out a large t-shirt and handed it to Y/N before walking out of the room. 

It took Y/N a few moments to even realise he’d left. Taking a breath she took off the bloody dress and undergarments and replaced it with the t-shirt. Assuming Bucky had left her alone for the night she began to explore the room. The bed had about a thousand pillows on it and all the ornaments seemed to be made from solid oak. Even when lying on the mattress it felt as if she was sleeping on air. Letting out a content sigh she was about to go to sleep when there was a knock at the door. 

“Hello?” Y/N called out cautiously. 

“It’s me Doll, you dressed?” It was Bucky. 

Y/N let out a small sigh of relief and opened the door to see him in his pajamas. Okay now she was confused. She must have clearly shown it on her face. 

“Doll this is my room, why do you think my shirts are in here?” Bucky explained heading to the bed. 

“Oh, right… well let’s head to bed then.” Y/N mumbled trying to hide her worry. 

However it didn’t get past Bucky. 

“Doll what is it?” Bucky’s caring tone was nearly enough to break down all her walls, but

“Just stay on your side of the bed.” She muttered getting into the covers. 

“Doll.” Bucky sighed, he clearly wasn’t going to let it drop. 

“Fine, the last time I shared a bed with a man was when Benny was conceived and at the time I didn’t particularly want to… you know.” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. 

Instead she rolled herself so as not to face Bucky.

“Just stay on your side of the bed, please.” Her voice seemed so weak. 

With that Bucky got out of the bed. 

“Where are you going?” Y/N asked. 

“From now on your body is your own, nobody can do anything to it without your permission, Y/N.” Bucky spoke to her. 

With that he bid her goodnight. As he left Y/N closed her eyes and for the first time in a long time drifted away to sleep happily. 

[a-spectacle-in-the-morning]

“Macallan Isn’t Cheap, You Know” -- Rafael Barba

Notes: I wanted to give writing for Rafael another go. He makes me so nervous though, man. Fingers crossed with this one.

Kind of Summary: You’re a detective with the SVU that gets a little too drunk and winds up at Barba’s place. Sarcasm and sweetness ensue. ALSO there’s some very brief mentions of sexual assault and murder below that goes along with a case, so just be cautious if that kind of stuff makes you uncomfortable. 

--

Tomorrow you will probably wake with bruised knuckles, but tonight it seems worth it. That’s what your drunk brain keeps telling you. It’ll be worth it. It’ll be worth it. Don’t worry. This is a good idea. Ow.

You’ve been knocking on his door for at least several seconds. It’s only two in the morning; there’s no way he’s asleep. You hear the lock click and brace for impact.

“What are you doing here... and how did you get through the front door?”

Fair enough.

“I have a badge and I’m very convincing. And I need to talk to you,” you can’t seem to stop your mouth. “You own pajamas?” 

Barba just stands in his doorframe looking at you. “Of course I own pajamas. Did you think I slept in dress pants?”

You look down to the floor as you ponder your own question. “I guess?”

When you look back up to Barba’s face you see a glint of laughter flash in his eyes. “So, back to my earlier question- what are you doing here?” And when you can’t form a rational answer he continues, “Are you okay?”

You reach over to his doorframe and run your fingers down the wood. “Can I come in?”

He sighs, but steps back holding the door open for you. 

As you step inside your remaining functioning senses are overwhelmed. The living room is wide and minimalist. There’s a coffee table, a grey loveseat, and a wide window that opens the space up to the lights of the city. It all smells of dark roast coffee and oak. It’s beautiful and very, very Barba.

“Of course your apartment looks like this.” You can feel his gaze on your back as you slowly make your way across the wood floors.

“I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.”

You start to meander in circles.

“How did you get my address, by the way?” You can tell Barba is trying to piece together what you’re doing at his place without bringing up the fact that you’re clearly inebriated. It’s kind of sweet. You turn to face him, a solid five feet between you two, and catch him taking a sip of coffee from a mug you didn’t notice him holding earlier. You aren’t surprised at all to discover he’d be brewing it so late. 

“I asked Liv and she gave it to me right away. She must reeaallllyyyy want you to get laid.”

Barba chokes on his mouthful of coffee as you finish the last word . He sets his cup on the nearest surface and rubs a hand at his chest. “Is that so?” he croaks.

“Mhm.” You do a full 180 turn, extending your arms. The little semi-sober part of your brain begs you to stop. You’re in Barba’s apartment. He’s being kind and you’re acting like an idiot. But also, you feel like a helicopter. 

When you stop you say, “Sorry. That’s not what I’m here for.”

“That’s good because that’s not going to happen tonight.”

You tilt your head and smile, pointing a finger at him. “Not tonight, huh? Maybe some other night, though?”

“Sit down. I’m going to get you some water.”

You follow his command and flop onto his expensive looking couch saying, “Yes sir.”

Barba stops in his path to the kitchen, shakes his head, and you’re pretty sure you catch him muttering something expletive as he starts moving again. 

The lights out the window to your left are fuzzy and breathtaking. You pull your legs up and wrap your arms around them, still looking out to the city. 

“Here.” Barba gently places his left hand on your shoulder and offers you the glass of water with his right. 

You accept it with a quiet thank you. The couch is big enough that you can squish up into one corner as Barba sits on the other end without touching. An unknowable amount of time passes as you sit sipping your water. You fall in love with the cool feeling of it on your tongue and you fall in love with Barba and the way he patiently watches you. Then you fall out of love again. By the time the glass is empty your feelings for him are somewhere in the middle, and you know you’ll have to process that in the morning. 

“I’m sorry,” you say as you set your glass on the coffee table. “Sorry for just barging in. It was unprofessional.”

You can’t make out his expression as the lights behind his head surround him in a dull sort of halo. 

“Good thing we aren’t at work then,” he offers.

You untuck your legs and let them fall off of the couch. Best to be sitting like an adult for a serious conversation. 

“I uh,” you try to choose the right words, but they keep slipping around in your head, “I waited for you.”

Barba’s countenance is still unreadable in the darkness, but what you just said makes his face scrunch so much you can see the lines on his forehead from your side of the sofa. “Did I miss something? I don’t remember making any plans.”

“No, we didn’t- there weren’t plans. I just went to Forlini’s tonight and I waited for you to show up. I wanted that drink that you promised me a couple weeks ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to text you. I kept typing it up and deleting it.”

“As you ordered drinks anyways?”

“Yes, jackass, as I ordered drinks anyways. We both had another shitty day so I hoped that you would be there. I waited for an hour.”

“I’m sorry. Today’s shitty day left me with lots of paperwork. I wanted to finish it as soon as possible, which meant no drinks for me.”

“You owe me fifty bucks.”

“Fifty bucks?”

“Yeah. Macallan isn’t cheap, you know.”

Barba lets out a huff and stands, picking up your glass as he makes his way back to the kitchen. “I do know.”

When he returns, but stops to stand near you as you bounce your feet, you ask, “Do you mind if I stay over? Couch of course. And I'll be gone before you wake up.”

The case you two just finished had involved a girl walking alone late at night. You were confident in your abilities to make it home, but sometimes things got to you anyways. With this case it was the image of the twenty-two year old girl thinking she could handle herself too, only to get raped and murdered on her way to a friend's house after dark.

“I can give you a ride home if you want,” Barba says, probably picking up on the source of your anxiety.

“Don’t want me to stay?”

“That’s not what I said. I want you to be comfortable. If that means a late night road trip, so be it.”

“Hm.” You stand to be equal with him. The tables have turned, and his face is now lit by the blues and yellows of the buildings behind you. You’re happy to think that he can’t see the tender and open look on your own. “I think I’ll be okay here, but thanks for the offer. You’re a real sweetheart under all that ego.”

“Alright, that’s it. Bed time.”

You laugh and instinctively follow him as he leads you further into his apartment. By the time you realize where he’s taking you he’s already flipped the lights to his bedroom on and started folding the covers down. 

“I’m perfectly happy on the couch. Promise. Please don’t make me feel like even more of an asshole by taking your stupidly large and soft looking bed from you.”

He walks back to where you’re stuck by the entryway and stops in front of you. “I’m not going to get any sleep tonight anyways. One of us should get to enjoy it.”

“Not planning on joining me, Counselor?” 

Oh my God. I’m never drinking again, you think.

But Barba just rolls his eyes and moves to return to his office. You catch his hand as he steps past you. Before he can say anything you press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks.”

You can’t read the look on his face and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the booze or the fact that five thousand emotions seem to be racing behind his eyes. You shrug and make your way over to his bed, flipping and falling into it so you’re laying on your back. 

He switches the light off with the smallest “goodnight” you’ve ever heard.

“Goodnight Rafael.”

And you swear as you slip off to sleep that you see Barba fail to hold back a smile as he shuts the door.

--

Yes, this is another attempt at a follow up for this. I wasn’t happy with how my other follow up turned out and I wanted to give it another go. I feel like this fits the vibe of “Woeful Wins” a bit better. At this point I also feel like I have to admit that I actually hate whiskey. I really do. Just thinking about it makes my stomach churn and not in the nice, warming way I wrote about in the first part.

The things we do for Barba…

Would you guys be interested in some semi-smut in the near future? I think I might try to do something a little smutty the next time I write Barba. Not full-on smut, but perhaps smut adjacent. 

Sorry for this excessively long note after the fic. As always, massive thank yous to those of you that read my stuff. Every single like, comment, and reblog fills my little pessimistic heart with love. See y’all soon.

[gone-series-orchid]

I thought about this earlier today (what a year already) if Orc HAD done something during THAT scene in Coates. My gosh how would Astrid had coped with that? How would that affected her relationship with Sam? Would she still have gone into exile? How would she have handled even the thought of Orc? How would that affected Orc? The one person who saw you as a human is now like treating you like a monster? Would he have ended things? Like man I hate to say it but I kinda almost wish MG had played it out a little bit....

(just as a warning, dear audience, this post contains explicit discussion of rape/sexual assault.)

hi, emily! always nice to hear an ask from you!

oof, what a dark train of thought. if orc had tried something at coates, i think astrid wouldn’t have coped with it well at all, given she’s already at the end of her rope mentally. she already recognizes that orc may be a (implicitly sexual) threat, but, interestingly, doesn’t think he’s old enough:

“she wondered whether orc was old enough for her to worry about in that way. she thought not. but it was a frightening possibility” (p. 345).

this is despite the fact that he’s only a year younger than her—he’s 14, the same age that astrid was when she got together with sam! the fact that she’s heavily implied to be wrong would affect her greatly if something were to actually happen.

sadly, i can see astrid potentially blaming herself, even subconsciously, for not taking him seriously as a potential threat before it was too late. she’d be castigating herself for trusting orc when she knew that he was emotionally unstable and drunk; maybe she’d even be angry at herself for trusting orc at all. she thought he respected her, that he had a soft spot for her, maybe even loved her in his own way—only for him to treat her so monstrously. i think it would fundamentally break whatever trust she had in him.

astrid’s such a good person that I don’t think she’d have it in her to not care if he did end up offing himself (more on that later!), but I think she’d mourn the person he could have become instead of the person he was at the time of his death—and even that she’d do with intense bitterness, confusion, and anger.

I think it would *definitely* affect her relationship with sam, which was already on the rocks. post-ambiguous assault (whatever that might consist of), i’d imagine she’d be even more resistant to the idea of having sex with him. would she be able to tell him why? i personally don’t think so—i think she’d want to keep it to herself and try to forget it ever happened. i think she still would go into exile, definitely, not only for the typical little pete reasons, but because she’d want to emotionally process what happened and she’d think withdrawing from everyone could do that.

i think she’d think of orc as little as possible after that. she’d be completely done with him. any thought of him would probably bring up a lot of anguish, especially because, depending on how sexually-tinged the assault was (again, the ambiguity of it is kind of a big factor here, but it’s probable that it was at least somewhat sexually charged, given the context of earlier coates segments with orc staring at her and his conversation with drake—more on that later), it would be one of astrid’s first sexual experiences, even if it’s of the quasi- sort. :(

as to how this would have affected orc...ooh boy. first, i’ll kind of reiterate what i interpret his motivation to be in attacking astrid in the first place, starting with this quote:

“[orc] had no clear thought for what he would do when he found [astrid]. she was just the only one who had ever helped him. she was the only one who had ever seen him as charles merriman and not just orc. she should feel his pain [...] someone had to feel the pain” (p. 436).

this isn’t just a case of just straightforward violence for orc, sexual or otherwise. this is fundamentally a frustrated, warped attempt to communicate his pain to someone he trusts deeply, someone he feels will understand because she saw him as a human being and not a monster. it’s also implied to be an equally warped expression of sexual desire, though i think orc doesn’t recognize it consciously...or, if he does, it’s in a purposely obfuscatory way. while this is orc’s “let me be evil” moment, it’s also a “let me be evil but with psychological plausible deniability” moment; he recognizes what he’s doing is sexually charged and unwanted, but the thought of his actions as meriting the label of sexual assault would never cross his mind; cognitive dissonance all the way.  it would be too psychologically painful for him to reconcile those two things.

anyway, i think orc’s desire to attack astrid would also be seen as a violence-tinged version of the “sex for solace” trope (in which a character has sex with another as a way to comfort themself after a tragedy). similar to how sam longs to have sex with astrid (and kisses taylor) to cope with his ever-growing bevy of traumas, orc longs to have sex with astrid to cope with his self-loathing and suicidality. with sex usually comes love and acceptance (which, of course, is what he wants the most from her). it also means physical intimacy, which he’s been deprived of due to his mutation. orc wants to be close to her physically and emotionally because he thinks love (and thus sex) redeems. if astrid can love him, then that makes him good. and he thinks, in his drunken, heavily depressed state, that he can only get that approval through violence (ironically negating the fact that it’s supposed to be redemptive)—hence, this:

“[drake] peered closer at orc as if looking inside him. ‘nah, orc, the only way you ever get astrid is the same way i get her. and that’s what you were thinking, isn’t it?’” (p. 444)

notice that drake is peering as if looking inside orc at this point, implying that what he says has some merit/truth to it. orc has been thinking about “getting” astrid through violence (again, whatever that really means...more on that later).

anyway, so it’s a complicated mix of emotions that would inspire that sort of act, is basically what i’m saying. that doesn’t absolve orc of doing anything wrong at all, of course, but it is a thing to consider.

so, to answer your question, i think orc would be absolutely devastated once he released what he’s done. he’d think he entirely deserved astrid’s scorn/fear and would basically be even more self-loathing and drunk than he already is. i think he’d think that by violating astrid’s trust this way, he’d proved himself to be an irredeemable monster in full. i don’t know if howard would be able to help, either. he might try to approach astrid to apologize at some point, but i don’t think she would listen to him.

his suicide attempts would probably increase, but i don’t think he’s actually able to die (i think i read this on the wiki at some point but there was a fan theory at some point i believe that posited that orc’s mutation is actually a form of long-term regeneration; his stone skin “filled in” the parts on his body the coyotes tore apart and healed them until, by the time of his death in light, he’s got his original skin back beneath the gravel...so maybe his liver keeps regenerating and that’s why he can’t drink himself to death). he might long for his apology to be accepted by astrid, but i don’t know if she could find it in her heart to forgive him, and i don’t think she’d be wrong in doing that.

so, here’s the Big Question: what does orc do when he finds astrid?

i’m not sure. i think he’d be flustered and angry when he actually finds her, but unsure of how to channel his rage. it’s one thing to think yeah i’m angry and i want astrid to feel my pain but what does that result in? i can’t imagine him pummeling astrid with his fists, or hitting her straight out. i can imagine him picking her up, or maybe backing her into a corner...maybe he’d attempt to kiss her in a sort of rough desperation, or feel her up, or tear off her clothing, maybe hit her when she inevitably resists in a sort of mix of panic and anger. i’m not sure if he could actually force intercourse on her, but it appears that despite his mutation his genitals still function (after all, he can still pee), so maybe? but then again, he is stinking drunk, and that tends to impair sexual functioning anyway….

oof, that made me feel dirty. 😬

but i do really understand the inclination to wonder what would happen if mg had made it so astrid was present! i’m just not sure. curse you, mg and all your ambiguity!

but thank you very much for the question, emily!!! feel free to send more!!

[stenbrozier]

Addict (Teen!Richie Tozier x Reader)

Warnings: drug use/abuse (cigarettes, alcohol, weed), mentions of dead parents + drug overdoses, mentions of rape (not in detail), religious themes (Christianity), angst, violent outbursts, swearing, cute and caring Richie Tozier

Aged up to 17 !!!

Based off the song Using by Sorority Noise

A/N: I needed to write this because I’ve been grappling with nicotine withdrawal and writing is the one way that I can really release this energy. I’m sorry if this offends anyone in anyway. I just really needed an outlet, especially while I’m stuck at home during this quarantine. This is my longest one yet, so I hope you guys enjoy it.

——————————————————————————

The moment (Y/N) took a puff of Beverly’s cigarette for the first time, she was hooked. It was nice to have something to hold onto, something to fall back on when everything felt like it was going to shit. After her first cigarette, she asked Bev to get her smokes whenever she was getting herself some because (Y/N) didn’t have the balls to flirt with that creep like Beverly did. She couldn’t just waltz up to Mr. Keene and say that she was getting them for her parents because she didn’t have any parents to get them for. She lived with her aunt and uncle, and everyone knew that they were the most Christian, drug repelling household in all of Derry. They would berate her friends if they walked into the house smelling even faintly of alcohol, weed, or cigarettes, especially if it was Richie. Richie smoked weed all the time but always had to change before he went to pick up (Y/N); however, that didn’t stop him from having a natural drug scent. They had been best friends the majority of their lives, ever since she had moved in next door when they were 7. Her aunt and uncle loved him, loved the way he handled her and helped her through life if she needed it, but they despised the fact that he did drugs. What they didn’t know, was that she did them with him.

Richie would sneak into her room, usually at 1am, and would drag her out of bed to go on walks with him. These walks consisted of smoking cigs or weed, occasionally getting drunk off of a bottle of wine. Richie introduced her to alcohol, and it was something else she started to rely on. Richie noticed how bad she was getting after that. She would go to parties just for the sake of getting drunk, and Richie started to worry every time she got too drunk. Something else that was worrying him was how quickly she finished a pack of cigarettes. Bev would get her a pack, and she’d finish it within a day or two. (Y/N) was a chain smoker; it was very hard to catch her without a cigarette in her mouth. The only time she didn’t smoke was when she was within a 100 feet of her house or inside it, but once she couldn’t see it anymore when they were walking to school or to hang out with the losers, she would light up cigarette after cigarette. Richie tried multiple times to talk to her about it, but she just shrugged it off, saying that it wasn’t as big of a problem as he said it was.

“I don’t smoke all that often,” she would say defensively. “Fucking, come on, Rich. You smoke, too.” She rolled her eyes at him whenever he brought it up. He did his best to talk to Bev, but she would just shrug her shoulders.

“I only buy her one pack a week,” Bev said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not my fault she smokes it so fast.”

“You need to stop buying her cigarettes,” Richie whispered back, seeing that (Y/N) was walking towards them. “She’s getting bad, and she’s going to keep abusing it unless you stop supplying.” Beverly sighed, smiling at her best friend as she stopped in front of them, wrapping her in a hug. (Y/N) handed Bev a $10 as she pulled away, asking her to get her the “usual.” Richie knocked into Bev’s shoulder, her glaring at him as he went around to (Y/N). He wrapped my around her waist and she smiled up at him. They’d always been touchy; it wasn’t something that bothered them. They were both touch starved growing up, and they needed that person that would give them that physical attention. It just so happened that they had found each other.

“Don’t...don’t you think you should try smoking weed a bit more,” Bev asked, trying to persuade (Y/N) away from the nicotine. “It’s better for your lungs, anyways. I-I mean not completely, but at least it’s not all nicotine and chemicals and shit.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, pushing away from Richie because she knew he was behind her questioning.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) said, kicking her feet along the pavement. “I’m already a few years in anyway. I might as well keep smoking. Besides, you smoke, too. Don’t be a hypocrite, Bevvy.” She shrugged her shoulders, pulling her backpack straps up higher. “Hey! Did you guys hear about Greta’s party tonight? I think I’m gonna go.” Richie gulped, moving swiftly towards the girl and wrapping her in his arms again.

“I’ll-I’ll go with you,” he mumbled, rubbing his hand down her arm. She shrugged looking over at Bev. Bev shook her head and held her hand out.

“Ben wanted to have a movie night,” she answered simply. “Maybe Eds and Stanley will go with you guys.”

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head, “Bill and Mike might though.” She thumped Richie’s head with her pointer finger, a few of his curls shaking from the impact. “We should invite them to the quarry.” Richie shook his head rapidly, which caused Bev to raise her eyebrows.

“Why can’t they come to the quarry,” she asked suggestively as she stuffed the $10 bill into her back pocket. Richie stammered, looking at (Y/N) for help.

“It’s kind of our thing,” (Y/N) said. She freed herself from Richie’s death hold, booping his nose when he frowned. “We go and get high most days. Sometimes we just talk. It’s our time. It’s personal.” She looked over at Richie, who was staring at her with a small smile. “I’m sorry I even suggested it.” She whispered the apology to him, and he nodded, looking over at Bev.

“We’ll see you at the usual time Monday night,” he asked, throwing up finger guns. The Losers usually met at the clubhouse on Mondays and Thursdays. They didn’t have a lot of classes together anymore, so that was their time to catch up and just talk. She nodded back at them, shooting back finger guns, laughing as she ran off to meet Ben at the bike rack. Richie unwrapped his arm from (Y/N)‘s shoulder, reaching his bent elbow out to her with a dramatic bow. She laughed, wrapping her hands in the crook of his elbow and they walked off the quarry.

“Are you sure you want to come to the party with me tonight,” the girl asked. Richie shrugged, looking down at her as they crossed over the rickety Kissing Bridge, ducking under a few trees to get out to the sandy, faux beach that was the quarry. They sat down on the big rock wall, and (Y/N) sighed in content when the sun hit her face. Richie laughed at her, taking his backpack off and sitting down next to her. “You never answered my question.” Richie furrowed his eyebrows at her as he turned his head to look at her.

“What question?” He knew exactly what question; he was just trying to avoid it. In all honesty, he hated going to parties with (Y/N). She always got wasted and left him by himself, and yeah, he liked to drink, but not by himself and not while babysitting his best friend.

“Do you have a problem accompanying me to Greta’s later?” Richie looked over at her, sighing before moving to lay on his side and prop himself on his elbow to look down at her.

“I hate going to parties,” Richie said calmly. “Especially with you, and it’s not because I don’t like you anymore or anything. It’s just...” he thought for a moment, “I’m tired of you walking off and getting wasted and I have to clean you up.” (Y/N) scoffed at him, sitting up as she scooted off the rock. “Don’t get upset. I have the right to hate when you get drunk!” (Y/N) sniffled, tears threatening to fall.

“You know parties are the only time I can let loose,” she responded, her voice getting caught in her throat. “I get wasted because it’s fun, Rich. I never asked you to be my babysitter.” Richie stood up, throwing his arms up in the air.

“You get wasted every single weekend,” he yelled, causing her to flinch slightly. She could tell he was getting pissed off, and she hated when he got angry. He became a bitch, and it wasn’t something that she wanted to see. She made him mad once when they were 14 and he didn’t speak to her for weeks; this was all over her missing one of their quarry meetings because she promised Bev she’d help her dye her hair. “I have to babysit you cause no one else will! No one cares enough, not even you! You’re always getting drunk and it pisses me off. I hate seeing you risk yourself to cirrhosis because of how much you drink!”

“Richie, I’m in perfectly good health!” (Y/N) grabbed her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder. “How much I smoke and how wasted I get doesn’t fucking concern you.”

“Yes, it does,” he said angrily, jabbing his finger at her. “It concerns me because you’re all I have. You’re the only person that I know will be there forever and you...you’re killing yourself! At this rate, you’re gonna get lung or liver cancer before you’re 35! Hell, maybe fucking both!” She tried to walk away, but he grabbed her arm. “I’m not done. I love you, (Y/N), okay? I-I’ve loved you forever and-“ (Y/N) ripped her arm away from him, looking him up and down with tears streaming down her face.

“If you loved me, you’d let me do what I want to do ,” she spat at him. She could feel the tears streaming down her face, soaking her shirt collar. Actually, it wasn’t her shirt at all. It was one of Richie’s shirts that she’d stolen and cropped, but it didn’t matter anymore. She thought about it for a second, looking down at the band that was on it: The Cure. She sighed, looking back up Richie who was grabbing his backpack, too. “I’m going to ask Bill to come with me, instead. Show up if you want, but don’t try confessing your love for me unless you’ll let me be me.”

“Darling, come on,” Richie said, the high pitched nature of his voice scaring him. “Don’t do this. If you don’t love me, just say it.” (Y/N) turned away from him, taking in a deep breath.

“I never said I didn’t love you back,” she whispered. “Just don’t tell me what to do and then think I’m gonna kiss you and throw away every other thing I love to make you happy.” She started walking up the steep hill that separated the quarry from the street. “I’ll see you Monday.” Richie watched as she walked away, and he followed her. He tried to catch up with her but she ran off, too fast for him to catch. He sighed, banging his fist on the splintering wood of the Kissing Bridge.

“Fuck,” he screamed as he started punching the shit out of the bridge, splintering his knuckles and making them bleed.

———————————

(Y/N) got to her house, slamming the door shut and marching over the phone. She had all of the Losers’ numbers memorized, so she quickly dialed Bill. Mrs. Denbrough picked up, and they had a conversation about school as she waited for her son to come down and grab the phone. Mrs. Denbrough said a quick farewell as Bill slipped onto the phone.

“H-hey,” he said and (Y/N) could practically hear the smile in his voice. The two didn’t hang out all too often anymore; they were honestly the most distant out of the group, but that didn’t stop them from loving one another unconditionally. “Do you n-need something?” (Y/N) laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Wanna go to Greta’s with me,” she asked as she twirled the phone cord. “Richie’s being a dick and he’s decided that he doesn’t like getting wasted with me anymore.” She heard Bill sigh and let out a small chuckle.

“W-what time does it st-start? I have b-baseball practice in the m-mor-morning.” (Y/N) sighed, scuffing her shoes against the wooden floor of her uncle’s house as she thought. She shrugged as if he could see her.

“I don’t know. 8ish? But I can always ask Eddie,” she said, taking on a reassuring tone. She hated taking Eds to parties but loved it all the same. It was very difficult to get him to let loose, but when he did, he was the life of the party. “Actually, don’t worry about it. You focus on baseball. Love you, Billy.”

“L-love you, too, (Y/N).” The line went dead and (Y/N) started to dial in Eddie’s phone number. She was prepared for Sonia, since she barely let Eddie touch the phone, and was pleasantly surprised when she heard Eddie’s voice saying a soft greeting.

“Eds! You’ve got to come to Greta’s with me,” (Y/N) yelled. “Pretty please?” She did a pouty lip, more to allow Eddie to hear the desperation in her voice. She heard him sigh, and the sigh felt as if it was in remorse.

“I-I’d love to, but...why can’t you just go with Richie? Trouble in paradise,” he asked mockingly. “Listen, I’ll come by and we’ll talk, and if after we talk you still want to get wasted, we’ll go.” (Y/N) scoffed.

“There is no paradise to have trouble in,” she said defensively. “Besides, the conversation will all be done in vain, Kaspbrak. I always want to get wasted.” Eddie laughed on the other side of the phone, shaking his head.

“Fine. I’ll be over in like 45 minutes so you can get ready for the party with company.” Eddie regretted telling her that the moment he did. He didn’t want (Y/N) to drink anymore, but he wanted her to be happy. Maybe he could convince her to drink a little less tonight and not blackout like she normally did.

“Okay, Eds,” she replied sweetly. “Door will be unlocked, so just walk in. I’ll probably be in my room.” He made a noise in response and then the line went dead. (Y/N) sighed, walking up to her room. She looked out her window and noticed Richie’s blinds were close, so she closed hers as well.

——————————-

“Richard, you have to watch what you punch,” Maggie said to him sternly, taking the set of tweezers back to his knuckles to pull out the last few splinters. “I know you were upset, but you don’t have to punch things. Don’t worry, she’ll come around.” Richie scoffed and rolled his eyes, his mother lightly bopping his head to the side when he did. “Go wash off your hand and we’ll bandage it.” She ushered him to stand up, pushing him lightly over to the kitchen sink as she went to the bathroom done the hall for bandages. He sighed, taking the hand soap and putting it on his left hand, rubbing the soapy water over his blood covered right hand. The soap made him cringe, it stinging his cuts a bit. He finished washing it, taking a paper towel and dabbing them to dry them off. Maggie came back with the bandages, going over the him and wrapping them around his knuckles. She secured the antiseptic wrap, giving him a soft kiss on the hand.

“I think I’m going to go to a party tonight,” Richie said softly. “(Y/N)’s mad at me and I-I don’t want her to get too drunk.” Maggie nodded, waving for him to follow her in the living room. They say on the cough and Richie tucked his legs underneath him, feeling his mom’s head on his shoulder.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” she said, sitting up and kissing his temple. “I’m going to go get things for dinner. Do you need anything?” Richie shrugged.

“More Gatorade?” Richie drank Gatorades all the time. They were packed with sugar and sodium; however, they miraculously calmed him down and made him sit still for once. He looked up at his mom with a small smile on his face, and she pinched his cheeks. She nodded, grabbing her jacket and purse from the coat hanger. She checked her purse for her keys, and she opened the door, ready to leave. “The blue ones!”

“I know, honey,” she replied softly. “I love you.” She walked out the door before Richie had the chance to say it back, but he would’ve been cut off my the phone ringing anyway.

“Hello,” he said, expecting (Y/N) on the line.

“Hey, Rich.” He sighed, disappointed. It was Eddie. “What happened between you and (Y/N)?” He furrowed his brows. She asked Eds to go with him? Damn, she really didn’t want him there.

“She’s pissed I don’t support her chain smoking and excessive alcohol consumption,” Richie replied flatly. “Did she ask you to go with her?” He could practically hear Eddie, nodding a soft sniffle coming from his end.

“Yeah, I’m leaving in a few minutes to help her get ready for the party. You should show up, let her know you still care.” Richie tapped his fingers against the phone, no doubt causing a hollow sound to go through to Eddie’s side.

“I was going to,” Richie said sarcastically. “I also, might’ve, sorta confessed my feelings to her as she was screaming at me to “not control her”, so I need to make up for that.”

“Jesus, fuck, Rich,” Eddie mumbled on the other end. “We’ll talk more tonight. I’ve gotta get to your girlfriend’s house. See you later.”

“She’s not-“ The line went dead before Richie finished. He sighed. “-my girlfriend.” He hung the phone up, marching up to his room to see that there was little light coming in. He shrugged, thinking his mom must’ve dusted the blinds. He opened up his curtain, bringing the blinds up to see that (Y/N)’s were closed. Richie rubbed his hand across his face. They always left their blinds open, no matter how mad they were at one another. She must’ve been pissed.

——————————

Eddie walked into (Y/N)’s house, and he marched up the stairs. He saw that her door was slightly ajar and she was laying out outfits on her bed. He walked in, her hand waving him over.

“Light blue dress with my white Converses or black jeans and one of Richie’s cropped shirts with Docs?” She looked up at him to see him biting his lip, tilting his head to the side to closely examine the outfits. He noticed a blue mark on the white cropped shirt and he pointed it out.

“Is that marker or paint? Get a different shirt you’re not wearing one with a stain on it.” Eddie walked to the closet when she did, looking at all the shirts she had. He noticed a faded olive green top with bell sleeves and he took it down from the rack. “I think this one with the jeans and the white Converses.” He shoved it at her. (Y/N) looked at it, nodding before taking off her shirt and throwing it into her hamper. She slipped the shirt on, going back out into her room to put on the jeans. Once she slipped on the jeans, Eddie looked at her with his head tilted side ways.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows and frantically looking at her self in her body length mirror.

“Tuck in the front, fix your hair, put on some mascara and lip gloss,” he said bluntly. Eddie ended it with smile and (Y/N) went over and ruffled his hair.

“Thanks for being blunt, love,” she sighed. She dramatically rolled her head around on your neck and sat down at the bench in front of her vanity. “Love my quintessential gay best friend.” She laughed and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“I’m not gay, you bitch,” Eddie said, sitting down on her bed. “But I am pretty sure that you should try to make things better with Richie again. I called him earlier and he was a little bit of a mess. He sounded like he was in pain, I don’t know why.” (Y/N) sighed, finishing up her mascara before she turned around to look at Eddie.

“He closed his blinds, Eds,” (Y/N) shrieked. When Eddie just looked at her weird she sighed. “It means he’s pissed. We never close blinds without talking about it first.” Eddie snickered and (Y/N) shot him a death glare.

“Love birds,” he said, making it sound like a song. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, turning back to her mirror to tussle her hair and make it lay flatter on her shoulders. After a few seconds of changing its position, she sighed and walked over to her desk to grab a hair tie. As she put her hair into a bun, Eddie started talking to her again. “He’s not pissed at you. He’s pissed at what you do. There’s a difference.” (Y/N) scoffed.

“I can do what I want Eds and he just needs to realize it.” She pulled some baby hairs out of the front of her bun, watching as they framed her face and blew from the slight breeze her fan was giving her. “We should eat before. You wanna go to the pizza shop in town for dinner?” Eddie shrugged and thought before shaking his head ‘no.’

“Let’s go to the diner,” Eddie said. “We can at least get healthier food there to combat all the alcohol you’re going to drink tonight.” (Y/N) slipped on her shoes and threw the bird up at Eddie, causing him to laugh. “And don’t forget your lip gloss.” She shoved him out the door, grabbing her purse and shutting her bedroom door behind them.

—————————

After the diner, they walked over the Greta’s and all (Y/N) had in mind was beer. She wondered if Greta had gotten the good kind this time, the craft beer that came from a local brewery in Bangor, or if she got the shitty beer from the grocery store in town. (Y/N) also thought about Richie. He confessed his love to her, which was horrifying enough. She always tried to push her feelings of him away because she knew that they’d got unrequited, but she was quite wrong. He told her he was in love with her, and it made her regret walking away from him. But she wanted to get drunk and he didn’t understand that. Eddie talked her through it at dinner and revealed Richie was going to apologize at the party, or so that’s why it seemed like he was going to do when Eddie called him earlier.

“He isn’t mad at you, babe,” Eddie had said. “He’s mad at himself for letting your alcohol and drug issues get this bad.” (Y/N) didn’t think they were bad. Sure, she smoked too much and got high too often, but she didn’t get drunk more than once or twice a month, tops. She shook her head, looking down at the streets, which were now illuminated with the orange glow of the street lights.

“I’ll be okay,” (Y/N) said slightly above a whisper. She said it more to her self than Eddie, but she looked up to see his eyebrows raised and a major side eye. (Y/N) grabbed his hand, dragging him down the street, causing him to fumble with his fanny pack to make sure the zipper was closed so that nothing would fall out. When they got to the Keene household, there were a few cars already parked out front and they could hear music coming from inside. (Y/N) jumped up and down slightly with a little squeal and Eddie rolled his eyes, smiling slightly at his best friend. They walked into the house and Greta greeted them, pursing her lips together and turning around when she saw who it was. Greta liked (Y/N), but she knew that with (Y/N) came Eddie, the Trashmouth, and the rest of their nerdy friends. They didn’t ruin the parties, though. In fact, their drunk asses made them more fun, so it was whatever. (Y/N) made a b-line towards the kitchen, smiling when she saw vodka and whiskey as an option, too. She grabbed a cup, pouring and taking three shots of vodka while Eddie watched awkwardly from the side, tapping his fingers on the granite counter.

“You drinking already,” said a deep voice from behind them. (Y/N) turned around to see Ryan, a kid who was in her science class. He was the second best baseball player on the high school’s team, trailing behind Bill who already had 7 scholarships as a junior. Ryan had 4 and was extremely popular. (Y/N) smirked a little, shrugging her shoulders as she looked at Eddie and raised her eyebrows a few times. She grabbed a beer from the cooler, the good kind, and opened it with the ring in her finger.

“It’s a party, what else am I supposed to do,” she replied with a hint of over sweetness in her voice. Eddie noticed and smiled dramatically at Ryan before dragging the girl away from him and out into the backyard, where people were smoking weed and jumping into the pool. “Eds!” (Y/N) whined as she looked back into the house through the big windows, seeing Ryan grabbing a red SOLO cup and pouring whiskey into it.

“We should wait for Richie somewhere by ourselves,” Eddie replied, dragging her over to a bench swing that Greta had in her backyard. “We’ll just sit here and wait.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, standing up and going back to the house. Eddie quickly got up, tripping as the bench swung back and made him slip on the grass. When he caught up to her, she was talking with Ryan in the living room. The party had gotten exceptionally more crowded in such a short amount of time, and he stood on his tiptoes to look over the crowd and at the front door for Richie. When his eyes met the closed door, he sighed and walked over to the kitchen, grabbing himself a SOLO cup. He looked at the drinks, ultimately deciding he’d make something (Y/N/N) taught him: a Cape Cod. He poured about three shots of vodka into the cup and then topped it off with cranberry juice. Eddie took a sip of it, grimacing when he tasted how strong the vodka was. As he poured more cranberry juice in, he heard heavy footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“‘Sup Eds,” Richie said softly, clapping his hand on his shoulder. “Why’s (Y/N/N) not with you?” Eddie took another sip of his drink and pointed out towards the living room, seeing the jock she was with heads over everyone else. Richie followed Eddie’s eyes and cursed under his breath. “I-I’m gonna go talk to her.” Richie shoved through the crowd, making his way towards the two. He appeared behind Ryan, causing your too furrow your eyebrows as Ryan yelled over the music about college or drugs or something. You tapped Ryan’s shoulder and pointed to the kitchen, silently letting him know you were “getting another drink.” You looked at Richie disdainfully and sighed when you heard his footsteps following you. Eddie smiled at you, glad to see you were okay.

“What the fuck, Rich,” you yelled, stomping your foot on the ground. “I thought I told you to leave me be.” He reached out to grab your arm, but you yanked it away, taking a long swing of your beer and finishing it off. You abandoned it on the counter, walking around Eds to get a SOLO cup.

“What happened to the one you had literally half an hour ago?” Eddie asked, scoffing as you shrugged at opened the green apple flavored Smirnoff that caught your eye. Richie took it right out of your hand, capping it and holding it above your head.

“No more.” He grabbed your hand, sticking the bottle back on the counter behind you as he dragged you out of the kitchen.

“Richie I’ve barely had anything,” you whined, stumbling over your feet as you got pulled into the hallway that lead to the front door. Eddie followed close behind, taking tiny sips of his drink as he helped Richie push you out of the house. “What the fuck! You guys are no fun.” You crossed your arms, allowing Richie to shove you into the passenger’s seat of his beat up Buick Regal. Eddie hopped in the back. When Richie got into the driver’s seat, you smacked his arm out of rage, tears welling up in your eyes. He started the car and pulled off the street, taking a few turns to get to Eddie’s house.

“If you need help with her, call me,” Eddie said quietly to Richie before reaching around front and giving (Y/N) a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, (Y/N/N).” You sighed in response, squishing yourself into a ball and moving closer to the window. He quickly got out of the car, closing the door and running up to his house. Richie drove up into the intersection, making a left and heading towards where Mike lived, to the farmland.

“Home’s right, dumbass,” you spat softly, rolling your eyes as he kept straight ahead. You looked down at his hands on the wheels, and through the dim streetlights, you could see that his hands were extremely white and wrapped in bandages. Usually, they had a pinkish tone to them, but all traces of that were gone. The bandages were stained a little with blood, so you figured he punched the shit out of some wall. He was mad. Richie was angrier than you had ever seen him, and you hadn’t even looked at his face yet. Tears stung your eyes when you saw the familiar dip in the trees that lead down into the quarry. He parked his car right at the top of the hill, getting out without a word. You got out, too, following him down into the quarry. When you got there, you saw him sit down on the rock and put his head in his hands. You came and sat next to him, folding in on yourself by wrapping your hands around your knees which were pulled up to your chest.

“I told you I didn’t want you to go to that party,” Richie whispered. He ran his hands up into his hair, the curls falling over his forehead when he violently slammed his hands down on his lap. He looked over at you, a scowl on his face and tears in his eyes. “That guy was going to get you drunk and fuck you. He was going to fuck you, and you were going to let him.”

“Richie, I would’ve said no,” you said defensively. “One, my standards aren’t that low, and two, I wouldn’t want him to touch me while I was sob-“ Richie scoffed, shaking his head.

“You were on your way to being wasted as soon as I got there, darling.” He stood up, kicking the small rocks that lines the big boulders. “He was going to rape you. I could see it.” You looked down at your hands without answering, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “You can’t ever go to party without me again. I have to protect you.” You started crying, sobs racking your body as you wiped your eyes in your sleeves.

“Says the one who told me he didn’t care what I did not even 6 hours ago,” you yelled, pointing at him as tears continued to fall down your face. “You’re a piece of shit! Ya know that, Richie? You want to help people, but then you just trample over everything they love, including people.” Richie furrowed his eyebrows, confused at the end of her statement.

“People? I’ve never purposely hurt someone in my whole li-“ (Y/N) pointed to his knuckles.

“What did you do?” (Y/N) asked, sniffling as she tried to calm herself down. “You punched the shit out of something, I can tell that much. I just don’t want you hurt.” Richie sighed, sitting down next to the girl who looked so small compared to the rocks and big trees behind her that were faintly highlighted by the moonlight.

“Now you understand,” Richie responded calmly. “I don’t want you hurt. Drinking hurts you. Smoking hurts you.”

“You know why I do it,” (Y/N) interrupted. “It makes me forget, drinking especially. I hate thinking of them so much. They’ve been gone for years, but I can’t stop thinking about them. So, I try to destroy my mind enough to forget for a little while.” Richie hesitantly put an arm around her, and when she melted into him, he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

“I don’t understand that,” Richie answered. “But I can tell you that drinking and smoking is just going to get you closer to where they were. They were so addicted they died, babe. Died.” He shoved his face into your hair, sniffling as he held you super tight for a few seconds while he paused. When he pulled away, he brought one of his hands up to your cheek. “I-I can’t have you dying on me.” You looked up at Richie, tears falling down his face as he stared into your eyes. You leant up closer to him, bringing his face down to yours and kissing him on the lips. He was taken by surprise and pulled away immediately, a confused expression on his face.

“A-are you okay,” you questioned. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, I’m sorry. You just...earlier you told me that you loved me and I love you too and I thought I’d kiss you because-because this is a meaningful moment and-“ Richie planted his lips back into yours, causing you to melt into him. After a few seconds, he pulled away and rubbed his thumb over your cheekbone as he smiled at you.

“I love you too much to lose you,” he said softly. “I-I don’t care you smoke or drink...just-just don’t get excessive, okay? That’s my worst fear, honestly, you becoming an alcoholic or dying of lung cancer.” You snickered a little, Richie look at you in confusion.

“I’ll take it easier, ya goof.” You wrapped your arms around his torso and you stuffed your face in his neck. “Whenever I go to a party, I’ll make sure you protect me from all of the big, scary guys.” Richie laughed at that, and he ended up having to pull away to catch his breath.

“I’ll do my best, princess,” he said back, his laughing fit still leaving his body. “I will definitely do my best.”