#I however will go fuck off and sleep now-nighty and have a good one~
Note
Would you do a story about Steve with a fem curvy ready and they have a daddy/little relationship and she is super cuddly with him when they are in a group cause she's shy? I don't see a lot who write for little space so happy I came across your blog
You didn't specify if you wanted this to be smutty so I'll just default to fluff! It's been a bit since I wrote nonsexual little space so it's subpar in my opinion. Also Nancy is ooc.
It wasn't your first time meeting Steve's friends but it never gets any easier. He assures you it will as you get to know them better and find they're genuinely kind people. They even seem to like you!
Steve is a natural caretaker for the group and has been for some time now. But that's something everyone knows. However, few know of the truly special relationship you and Steve have. Robin and Eddie being the only two that know how you sweetly call him, "daddy."
It's one of those moments that have been building all day. Steve was paying the most attention to you knowing how shy you are. Doting and fussing over you was a normal occurrence. And so was the gentle way he would call you for all to hear, "Princess."
There was almost no chance that you wouldn't have slipped into little space with his coddling. But he, even with all his attention on you, was oblivious to your slip into it. Cuddled up on his lap trapped by his arms while a scary movie played.
Slowly you spoke less and less until you could no longer speak. Your small hand was fisted into his shirt and your face was smashed in his neck, the movie was scary. Too scary for someone so small.
Nancy spoke first and with irritation tainting her usually understanding voice, "Can you guys, please, stop making out? Maybe sit next to each other?"
And that's all it took for your plush body to begin shaking as fat tears pooled in Steve's neck. Your sniffles and soft sobs filled the already tense air. The movie's scream is cut off when someone pauses it.
Eddie is the next to speak, "Shit! Nice going, Nancy. You know Princess is sensitive so why the fuck are you starting shit?"
"I didn't mean to make her cry! I just didn't- I thought they were- and the movie-"
This shouldn't have made you cry and Steve knows this. He thinks back to how you've acted all day and it finally makes sense. He needs to take care of you and wipe your tears.
"Baby, hey- come on. Look at me." A pause and once he sees you disobeying his gentle guidance, "Don't make daddy repeat himself." Steve's voice is still gentle but there's a notable sternness that requires your obedience. Your pretty teary eyes gaze up at him as your lips pout.
"Daddy?" Johnathan whispers to no one.
"It's a thing, don't judge." Robin speaks up for the two of you and Eddie gives an affirming nod.
"Good girl, keep looking at me with those pretty doll eyes. Can you use your big girl words and tell daddy what's wrong?" His larger warm hand rubs soothing strokes down your back. And when you shake your head no he holds you tighter, "You need to breathe, princess. And when you're all calm I'll take you home for proper cuddles and we'll watch your favorite movie."
With Steve's reassuring attention and Robin giving you some fruit snacks you calm. Still in little space Steve packs your stuff up as Eddie distracts you with a story. At the door, you in Steve's strong arms his friends bid good bye.
"I don't really know what happened but I'm sorry for my part in it." Nancy promises herself to ask follow up questions later.
"We don't judge, man. Or at least I don't." Argyle takes a hit from the couch and coughs out, "Night!"
It's later, in bed with you wearing a cute little pink nighty and frilly white socks. Steve reads you a bed time story as he gently pets your head. Softly slipping into sleep under Steve's care.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#caretaker steve harrington x little reader#fluff#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x curvy reader#nonsexual little space
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Aaaaand welcome bitches, bros and non-binary hoes to another round of 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁 2am headcannons with LJ! Except it's 4am rn cause I'm a rebel 😈. Today we're focusing on the Mephone fam :D (these take place in a world where all the Mephones actually got a chance to be a family)
- Mephone 3GS has slight Prosopagnosia (face blindness/inability to recognize faces) due to his sensors being fucked up. Has a lot of memory issues in general rly due to the same injury. He mainly has difficulties remembering people's names, dates, time, when events took place, etc. (I'm projecting 💀)
- The Mephones all call each other by colors as nicknames. Mephone4, 4S, and 3gs are the main ones who call each other by colors (mostly because associating people with colors helps 3gs remember who they are.)
Here's a list of all the nicknames :)
Mephone3gs: Gray
Mephone4: Blue
Mephone4s: Red
Mephone5: Silver
Mephone5C: Pink/Rose
Mephone5S: Gold/Goldie
(Mephones 6-X have no nicknames due to them being automated guards with little to no will of their own)
- 5C and 5S are the only ones out of the main 6 that don't have a sibling dynamic, this is due to how they were created. All the Mephones before them were released independently and each a year apart (from 2009-2012) 5C and 5S were the only ones to ever be released in the same year and we're specifically built to be companion pieces to each other. They are both married and mostly see the others as their nephews while the others see them as their weird and eccentric aunt and uncle.
- A Mephone's maturity relies entirely on how advanced they are, not how long they've technically been alive. Each new Mephone model is more sophisticated than the last, making them act older and more mature despite existing for a shorter period of time. (Hence why Mephone4S and 5 act as older brother figures to 4 and 3gs and why 5c and 5s act more like well adjusted adults than the rest.)
- Mephone4 and 4S are commonly referred to as "the twins" despite being a year apart in age. This is due to their similar names, them both having the exact same physical model, the red and blue color scheme, and their just general vibe together as siblings. They bicker a lot but they're very close.
- Mephone5 is probably the most distant from the rest. But not in an asshole kinda way more like in a "stressed but wise older brother who you barely see cause he's constantly either working part time or doing college" typa way. He's just a very busy dude. Gives pretty good advice tho if you catch him on one of his break days. Constantly leaves 4S in charge.
- 3gs has seen a lot of shit 💀. Cannot be in enclosed or tight spaces for too long; you can fucking forget it if the light's are off, he would rather die than go into another dark room. Mephone damn near filled 3gs's whole room with nightlight orbs to help him sleep. 3gs is pretty embarrassed about his newfound fear of the dark and claustrophobia, but Mephone4 always reassures him that there's no shame in it. Mephone4 was actually the one to get 3gs out of the storage closet in the first place, so 3gs looks up to him a lot. If 3gs is ever upset or has a meltdown, immediately go find Mephone4. If Mephone4 is unavailable, however, 5S or 5C are good stand ins.
And now I sleeb nighty night.
#object shows#object show community#inanimate insanity#ii mephone4#ii mephone#iimephone#ii mephone3gs#ii mephone5c#ii mephone 4s#ii Mephone 5s#ii Mephone 6#ii Mephone 5#headcanon#letterman's rambling#inanimate insanity mephone4s#inanimate insanity mephone4
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The Deal of the “After” Life-time Part 4
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Dream Realm
MJ was doing some random sketching on a scrap of paper, since she doesn’t have anything else to do, since she didn’t want to just watch T.V. all day, (or was it night?) As she was almost through with the detail of her sketch, she heard a call. “Makayla! would you come over please?” Freddy yelled out. MJ was scared, her body hair was sticking on ends when she heard her real name. “NOW BITCH! Or do I have to fetch you myself?” Freddy called out. “I’ll be right out, just give me a moment!” MJ responded with panic, as she grabbed a bedsheet to cover her translucent body.
Freddy was sitting in his comfy chair, right next to the burning boiler. When he saw MJ coming out, he smiled. “Well... Makayla, nice that you decided to come out and visit.” Freddy greeted. “Yeah, first of all, I prefer to be called MJ; not my full name, and second, you called me out, then you threatened me to hurry up.” MJ corrected. Freddy almost snapped, but he kept his cool for her. “Right, my bad. Why don’t you seat yourself and we’ll have a talk?” Freddy offered as he pointed towards another chair across from him. “Want some tea? it’s fine.” Freddy added with another offer. “I don’t drink tea... I’ll just take water.” MJ requested. With a snap from Freddy’s claw, a pitcher of ice water and an empty glass appeared to replace the tea. MJ was so hot that she took the pitcher and gulp it all down. “My... Aren’t we heading to bladder city, why didn’t you say that you were thirsty?” Freddy asked with a cheeky smile.
MJ knew that Freddy was taunting her, she knew that he knew the reason for her ways; his questions were rhetorical. “The one thing I do want to know is why you’re wearing your bedsheet? you’re not naked under there, are you?” Freddy chuckled. MJ nearly threw up from his comment, and whatever he’s thinking in his head. “Why did you call me out? This better be good.” MJ said crossly. Freddy crossed his legs before he spoke. “I thought of a proposition for you; to make up your... Mistake.” MJ raised a brow before letting him proceed. “If you go back to the human world and find me some more souls for me to fill up my boiler, I’ll give you your freedom, or stay in the Dream Realm forever? Quite the temptation, don’t you think?” Freddy asked. MJ was going to say her answer until she started to feel lightheaded. “What’s the matter? you don’t look like yourself; maybe it’s the water that you’ve drank. It could be drugged.” Freddy chuckled.
MJ got up quickly to get away from Freddy, not wanting to pass out in the boiler room. “Hey! Where are you going, bitch? You didn’t even give me an answer!” Freddy followed MJ for the fun of it, as it were his way of taunting her. “You prefer that you sleep on it? Well then, Nighty-night!” Then Freddy gave MJ a push, which causes MJ to fall onto her stomach and passes out.
Freddy approaches MJ and tilted her face to look under her eyelid, to see if she was out-cold. After he have checked, he carried her back to her space and put her on the bed, not before he removed the sheet that hid her features. The Shadow Demon wondered why Freddy was doing this. “You’re probably wondering why I did that, huh?” Freddy sat on the foot of the bed to explain things to his shadow friend. “I have heard about the ritual that Pennywise Senior was going to perform, just to bring Makayla back. However, once she was free, she won’t be free.” The Shadow Man was confused by his term. “The water that she has drank, not only does it knock her out cold... She’ll be blank minded and not remember a thing. With Makayla in a confused state, I’ll have her to myself, only this time, within myself.”
Freddy then shows off his captured souls. After Freddy puts down his sweater, he removed his shoes. “Now, if you don’t mind, Shadow-Fuck, I want some time alone with my future soul-mate.” Freddy chuckled as he lay next to her and wrapped his arm around her in a spoon position. No he’s not dominating her; he just wants to nap. “It’s been so long since I wrapped my arm around something alive in my life.” Freddy said to himself.
Real World
Malon has summoned The Candyman again, only this time, her dad wasn’t there to supervise; he was busy helping Papawise burn the tough products for the ashes. Malon wasn’t afraid of The Candyman like she used to be back then, he had a thing for her mom, so, she can trust him to not hurt her. “My dad didn’t want me to summon you without him watching me, but I know I can trust you, so I can take the risk, for my mommy sake.” Malon explained. “Is it time for the ritual?” The Candyman asked. “Not for another few hours, so you can just relax and smell the flowers until it’s time.” Malon answered.
Out on the clearing, Jason was turning the freshness med container into ash, while Papawise makes the ritual circle in the dirt around the fire pit. “There, that should do it. How’s the ash, Bucko?” Papawise called out to Jason. Jason nodded and gestured him to come over. “Nice work, boy! That’s the last of the bestowment. Now, we wait until dark and that the moon shines bright!” Papawise said with confidence. Jason looked up at the sky, while hoping that MJ will come back safely. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I know how much MJ means to you...” Papawise tries to think of something positive that doesn’t sound corny or inappropriate, so, he just gave him a smile and a nod, along with a pat in the back.
***
Malon decided to take one more nap to see her mom, and see if she’s doing alright; she has found out about the scratches on her mom’s back, when she heard one side from Pennywise, when he read Jason’s mind. Malon understands that her dad was only protecting her from seeing gore or anything tragic, but Malon is twelve, and she can get used to seeing disturbing things like gore. So, Malon doesn’t let her mom’s back scars get in the way from helping her.
Dream Realm
When Malon got into the dream realm, she saw her mom lying in bed. Malon was going to approach until she noticed that Freddy was in the bed next to her. Malon remembered that Freddy agrees to not intervene whenever her or Jason visit her mom. “Freddy, get out, shoo, shoo! Take your claws with YOU.” Malon snapped Freddy awake. “Malon! It can’t be your naptime, can it?” Freddy asked in confusion, but then made an evil grin. “I said MOVE IT.” Malon demanded. Freddy laughed as he got out of bed. “Okay, okay, I’ll let you have your bond with mommy.” Freddy chuckled as he left the room, knowing too well that MJ will not remember her own daughter.
When Malon woke her mom up, her mom was all woozy and blank. “Mom? Mom it’s me, Malon.” Malon said with a smile. MJ raised an eyebrow, “Malon? Who’s Malon?” MJ thought to herself, she’s unable to speak as well, so she’s unable to communicate. Malon saw a photo on her mom’s nightstand of her mom and herself with Jason. “Mom, look... That’s you, me, and that’s dad; Jason Voorhees is your husband.” Malon explained. MJ was shocked; “I have a family?” MJ asked herself in shock.
MJ tried to reach the photo, so she can have a closer look. Her arms are very shaky and her vision is blurry. “Mom, what’s the matter with you, did Freddy do something to you?!” Malon was in a state of panic, she didn’t know what to do. Then she felt her mom’s hand on her arm, as if she wanted to tell her that everything will be okay. It’s nice to get comfort from her mom, even though she couldn’t remember her own daughter or anybody she cares for, she started to cry. MJ hated to see Malon cry, so she carried her and hugged her tight.
Malon has been crying so much, that it got Aquarius’s attention. “Malon... Malon?” Aquarius said as she was rubbing her back.
Real World
Malon woke up with tears down her cheeks, she looked up when she saw Aquarius looking down at her with concern. “Star!” Malon tried to explain what was wrong, while Star sits on the bed and place Malon onto her lap to give her a motherly hug. “Shh, it’s okay, Malon, it’s okay... You tell me everything when you’re ready.” Star soothed. Malon calmed down a little and smiled into Star’s grasp; she can see how lucky Archie is to have a mom like Star, it’s almost like Aquarius is a mother to her when her real mom isn’t around.
***
While Jason and the ‘Wises’ have a chat, Aquarius came out while holding Malon’s hand. When Jason saw his little girl crying, he walks over to her and went down to her height. “Mommy... Ma...” Malon couldn’t get the words out properly. “That’s not mommy, that’s Jason.” Pennywise joked. Aquarius gave Pennywise the scary cat eyes, as if telling her husband to shut up. “Mom doesn’t remember who I am... She doesn’t even recall that she’s got a family... I think Freddy did something to her.” Malon finally said. “Malon must’ve taken a nap to see her mom, and I guess she was in shock when she saw Freddy lying next to her.” Aquarius assumed. “But I did shoo him away! So please don’t go hasty and ruin the ritual for all of us.” Malon begged her daddy.
Jason picked his daughter up and let her sniffle on his shoulder, if Jason was even afraid of tears, then he needed help, well, good thing he wasn’t. “If Malon visited MJ while she was woozy, it could be possible that she may have eaten or drank something; she may be drunk.” Papawise assumes, as he remembered Freddy’s ways of life. “He intoxicated his wife once, which is how he ended up with a daughter.” Papawise added. Malon gasped. “YOU MEAN HE--” “Whoa! Calm down Malon. Freddy wouldn’t do that; he doesn’t have the strength to be that dominant anymore.” Papawise said quickly, as he tries to calm Malon down.
dominant or not, Jason wanted to beat the hell out of Freddy for doing something this horrid to the woman he loves; MJ is never a drinker or a smoker, that’s what he loved about her. “If we do get MJ out, is there anything we can do?” Aquarius asked. “I’m afraid I don’t know, all I know is that there is a loophole, I just don’t remember what it was. We’ll just have to hope that we can save her before...” Papawise paused, as he was too afraid to finish his last sentence.
It got quiet for a while until Papawise spoke up again. “It’s going to get dark soon, so, I’ll go and get the robes for us to wear.” Papawise said to everyone. “But will the moon be out soon too? it usually takes a while for the moon to shine so brightly.” Malon realizes. Papawise turned with a big grin on his face. “I was the face of the moon once; I’ll make sure the moon comes out when it was in need.” Papawise chuckled before he rubbed Malon’s head.
To Be Continued
#Friday the 13th#A Nightmare on Elm Street#IT#IT Chapter 2#Jason Voorhees#Freddy Krueger#Pennywise#Pennywise the Dancing Clown#IT 1990#Papawise#Fandom#Fanfiction#MJ#Malon#Aquarius#Aquarius the Singing Clown
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The Monster In Plain Sight
Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants.
Warnings: Non-con, Dark! Steve, Steve is a serial rapist, somnophilia, forced exhibitionism, breeding kink, use of the word Daddy. If any of these makes you uncomfortable please do not read.
Word Count: 2.1k
AN: Ooop, I can’t believe I’m actually posting for the first time in nearly three months. Please be gentle <3
Also I would like to thank everyone on the dark group chat for encouraging me to keep on going with this idea. It didn’t quite turn out as dark as I thought it would but you guys gave me the incentive to keep on going so thank you <3
My Masterlist
He was hard. Achingly hard. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this, this desperate for release but he knew he had to take his time. He had to relish in every single second he could get. He doubted he would get another chance and so he had to make this one count.
The sleeping pills he had slipped into your wine at dinner were obviously working as you barely twitched as he slid your bedroom door open. It had almost been too easy to get his way. All he had to do was move in next door and play his usual role. No one would ever suspect The Captain America of the sinful acts that he was about to do, that he had done numerous times.
But even as he watched you sleep, he knew something about this time was different. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe it was because unlike his usual victims he had actually made contact with you. He had never been so bold before. Usually there was always a camera lens separating him from his victims. But not this time. Not with you.
He slithered over to the vanity opposite your bed, setting up his tripod with hasty fingers. He double checked the view point, making sure that the entire bed was in frame. He knew he wouldn’t forget a moment of what was about to happen but still, he wanted the momentos. The physical reminders. He pulled the sheets back from your unconscious body and relished in the way your nipples hardened at once as they met the cool night air.
It was only at times like this when he could stop acting. When he could truly be himself. For these brief hours he could be who he was, not who the world thought him to be.
He slid one hand up underneath the silk nighty you wore and cupped your tit as his other hand dipped into his already open pants. It was a relief to feel the cool breeze on his hot pulsating length and even better when he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped your fingers around it. Slowly he moved your hand up and down, a low groan tumbling from his lips. Your dainty fingers felt amazing wrapped around him, far better than his own, but he longed for more.
With a final tweak of your nipples, he let his hand slide town along your stomach and towards the lace that covered your mound. He cupped it through the scanty material, pushing the fabric into your lips as he felt you up. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, to have you wrapped around him like a vice.
Getting you out of the nighty without jostling your body too much was a little difficult. Perhaps he should have cut it open, that would have fitted better with his plan should you awake. Ridding you of your panties was far easier and the sight that met him was beautiful.
Sure he had camped out on your fire escape multiple times, watching as you dressed or prepared for a shower. But even then you had always been quick to recover yourself, as if you knew he was outside, watching with a hand wrapped around himself. Now however, he had you exactly as he wanted and he could take as long as he needed.
Whipping out his phone, he made sure to capture all your best angles. He wanted your body to be immortalised forever so desperately that he even risked turning the flash on. He didn’t want to miss a single curve. When he felt as though he had enough pictures to last a lifetime, he moved onto stage two and trailed a hand up your calf.
He kept his touch light for the most part until he reached in between your thighs. Steve couldn’t help the guttural sound that came out of his mouth as he parted your thighs, showing off the wetness that drenched your pussy lips. He had barely touched you and yet you were practically soaking the sheets. You must need it bad and who was he to refuse a woman in need?
He wondered briefly what was going through your mind as he played with your slick. Were you dreaming of him? Of him doing these things to you? Of him making your body feel this way?
He sure hoped so.
He wanted you to know it was him. That he had crept in here after dark and filmed himself while he took you however he saw fit.
Deep down he knew he could never allow that to happen. That you could never know. It would be a PR nightmare and his days of taking whatever he wanted would be over. The only reconciliation in his mind was that if everything went according to plan, maybe this wouldn’t have to be a one off like all the others. Maybe he would purposely wake you up? He could make it seem like whoever had done those depraved things to your body had got away and it would only be natural that you would seek comfort with him, your supposed hero.
A melodic whimper filled his ears as he swirled a finger around your bundle of nerves, pulling him back into the moment. Even unconscious you were so reactive. So desperate. His nimble fingers faced no resistance as he pushed inside, swirling them along your inner walls.
Steve doubted that you needed any more work up before he satisfied himself. You were just that needy. So without a moment's hesitation, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean.
You tasted so sweet, just like he knew you would. A part of him wanted to bury his face between your thighs and stay like that forever but the aching in his cock reminded him of why he was really here. He needed to fuck.
It had been far too long since his last time, a month, maybe more. He had spent so much time following your every step that he hadn’t gotten the chance to find anyone to satiate his needs. Plus, the last time he had it had been a little disappointing if he was being honest with himself. He had cummed, multiple times but instead of the usual calmness and serenity that filled him after a session, he just felt hollow and empty.
He had known it was because she wasn’t you. Her pleas for him to stop were wrong, far too shrill for your sweet voice. He ached to hear you plead with him to stop, to hear to cry out for help. His gut twisted in the best way just imagining it but he would have to content himself with just your body tonight.
He crawled onto the bed, spreading your thighs with his hips as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused, just briefly to look over at the camera, giving his future self a devious smirk before casting his eyes back to your face. He didn’t want to miss any of your body’s reactions to him.
He felt like he was coming home as he slid inside, forcing his entire length into your tight channel. Your warm velvet walls gripping him like a vice. It was nice. So nice that he just wanted to stay here, his cock buried deep inside of you for all of time.
‘Fuck baby, you’re griping me so tight.’ He couldn’t help the words as they fell from his lips and he hoped that you would register them, at least subconsciously.
Without any more hesitation he pulled back out, leaving just the tip before slamming all the way back home. Perhaps he wasn’t being as careful as he should have due to the circumstances but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just wanted to mark you as his and if you felt him in the morning, even better.
His pace was punishing as he thrusted his hips wildly, his hands groping both your tits. He toyed with the pert buds as your walls fluttered around him, a soft and delicate moan falling from your lips. The sound made him grateful he had invested in the extra strength microphone for the camera. He didn’t want to miss a thing.
‘You’re just so desperate aren’t you baby? You just need it so bad. Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna give it to you, just how you want it.’ He pushed your legs up, over his shoulders as he pushed even deeper inside of you. He could see the faint bulge of himself inside of you with every thrust and he imagined it going straight into your womb. The idea of his seed taking root inside of you did things to Steve that he had never known possible and suddenly he wanted it. He wanted it all.
He had always made sure to pull out because any child would be able to be traced back to him but the idea of you, round and full with his child… It was too good a vision to pass up.
His cock throbbed in need. The need to feel your velvety walls squeeze him, the need to fill you to the brim. His hand dropped down to where your bodies were connected, finding your little bud with ease. He swirled his finger in your slick and relished in the corresponding moan that came out of your lips.
‘C’mon baby, I know you wanna cum for me. I know you wanna be a good girl for me.’ His voice was throaty as he whispered into your ear, his ministrations on your clit never ceasing. He felt the familiar squeeze of velvety walls and he knew you were close.
‘That’s it baby, be a good girl for Daddy. Cum for me baby. Cum on Daddy’s big thick cock.’ He knew his words had taken affect as almost immediately he felt the pulsating of your walls, gripping him tight as you came. The sound of your pleasure was almost drowned out by his own low groan. ‘Fuck baby, milking me so tight. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum inside you, gonna fill you with my seed. You want that don’t you? You need it.’
Steve could barely control himself as he felt his balls pull up, his seed spilling inside of you in hot spurts. He allowed your legs to fall down his shoulders as he collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath.
‘Fuck baby, that was so good, so fucking good.’ His words were slurred, his heart still racing inside his chest. He felt the familiar pull in his gut as he started to harden again and he was about to start taking you again when he heard a soft mumble get caught in your throat.
He froze, still completely encased in you, unsure of what to do. If you opened your eyes you would know immediately what had happened and he probably wouldn’t get a second chance without resorting to drastic measures.
A moment passed, and then two and your eyes still remained firmly shut and Steve let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he shouldn’t go for round two right now. There was always tomorrow night, and the next night and the next. He could hold back for now.
Slowly he pulled his aching cock from you, watching in awe as a little of his cum seeped from your swollen lips. He gently scooped it up before pushing his fingers back inside. He didn’t want a drop to go to waste.
He pulled the camera off the tripod and carried back to the bed, giving your body a loving once over with the lens before putting himself back into frame as he knelt by your head. ‘Y/N L/N, twenty-first of September. Rating, ten out of ten. I will be coming back for seconds.’ With one last pan down your body, focussing on your cum soaked lips, he started getting redressed. He hated to leave you, but he knew he must. You couldn’t know that it was him doing these sinful acts with you, not if he wanted more.
He grabbed the notebook on your bedside table and turning to a new page he began to write with his non-dominant hand.
Thank you so much for last night baby. I can’t wait to see you again.
He placed the note on your pillow and pushed his lips against yours, sweeping his tongue around your entire mouth and drinking in your taste. It was with extreme regret that he left, but he knew he would be seeing you in a couple of hours. He would make sure he was the first person to see you in the morning. He would hold you in his arms and comfort you as you asked him for help, and he would give it to you.
And so much more.
+
Tags will be added in a reblog
Part Two
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
Thanks for reading <3
#steve rogers#dark Steve#steve rogers x reader#captain america#marvel#dark!Steve#dark! captain america#non-con#somnophilia
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God’s Face in the Fire || Part 1
Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader
Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.
Word Count: 10.3k
Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mention of assault, murder, non-graphic death scenes, sexual themes, oral (m receiving), smut, brief mentions of possible infidelity, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only
A/N: Sorry for the bad summary, I’ve never been good at those! This first chapter doesn’t include an awful lot of Lee but the next part will be very Lee heavy! There will only be two other parts for this mini-series, maybe another or so if I extend my ideas.
Enjoy!
The baby she held on her hip just would not stop crying. Tears stained her own eyes as she felt at her ropes end looking at her baby's red face. Nothing she had done to make her baby feel better was working. When Y/n stared at her small face, the one that looked so much like her father's, she searched for a clue on what could be the problem. All she got back was a look of anguish. She wondered if her daughter's eyes mirrored her own emotion.
"What's wrong baby? What's wrong?" She asked as if she was genuinely going to get an answer from her. Her soft voice didn't assuage the baby's cries. What baby doesn't love the sound of their own mother's voice?
Y/n tried stroking her little girls back to calm her, tried feeding her, burping her, changing her, and putting her down to sleep but all of those things failed miserably. Her daughter continued to scream her little lungs out. The tears were beginning to dry up, but she still wailed. Y/n worried if something was wrong and if they needed to go to the hospital. Her husband wasn't home and she didn't want to cause anymore trouble for him, or herself.
"Are you hot? Wanna step outside?"
She did her best to open the backdoor without dropping her daughter. The rush of cool air as she stepped onto the back porch did more to help her than it did her daughter. The porch light was nearly as loud as the cries; it was one of the first noises she had heard in hours that was something other than her daughter. She got lost in the noise as she peered into the darkness of their backyard that stared back at her. She had been afraid of the dark when she was younger, always needing a night light until she reached her teen years. It was safe here in Brewer Heights, but something about the vast darkness gave her a creeping feeling. It felt endless.
The night air was doing nothing to help her anymore, and she worried that her neighbors would hear the baby cries and think something was terribly wrong.
"Let's go inside."
The songs she often sang to her daughter that her own mother sung to her when she was younger normally made her giggle and smile. Tonight, however, it was just another thing to add to the list of things that failed to calm her down.
Around midnight she finally heard the front door opening and the heavy footsteps of her husband trudging into their home. A groan followed when he heard the sounds of his daughter crying pierce the air.
"Lee," Y/n exasperated. She came out of nowhere, blindsiding him and begging, "please take her."
Lee didn't even get a second to take his jacket off, nor was he going to be able to relax like he had planned to after his long day. This situation paled in comparison to what he had to deal with at the station today. A domestic dispute, a robbery, a bar fight that ended in a stabbing, and hefty loads of paperwork that came along with it.
"She just won't stop crying Lee."
He said nothing to Y/n as he eyed her. Y/n understood what the look he gave her meant, but she was too concerned with making the crying stop. Lee held his arms open to take the girl into his arms.
"What's wrong darlin'?" He cooed at her. He held her close, snuggling her into him and his warmth
Lee had to temper his annoyance. He didn't want to come home to a screaming baby and a helpless wife, but he was weakened by the desperation radiating off of Y/n.
"What's wrong little girl? You like givin' your mama hell?"
Y/n sighed as the screams began to die down. The sinking feeling that she was an awful mother for not being able to get her baby to calm down was present. The worst thought to cross her mind was that Lee also thought the same. She didn't want to be the wife who couldn't raise her own child and was too dependent on her husband. Lee was admittedly more present in child rearing than her own father. However, she had only started becoming so fussy in the last few months when her father decided to run for Mayor and spent more time at work than at home with his family.
When their girl was born, Lee spent an eternity staring at her face; her features were so similar to his at a young age, but with her mother's lips. Hours after her existence in this word, Lee promised his wife would be home more, maybe he'd even hire a few new officers to handle the countless petty crimes that end up on his desk. Y/n believed his promise, but it changed when he out of nowhere declared that he was going to run for mayor.
"You enjoy being the sheriff's wife. I'm certain you'd love being the mayor's wife even more. And now that we got a baby, my chances are even better."
All of her years of being Lee's wife and she never heard him express any interest in being mayor. Sure he got off on power of any type, but he never uttered the words "mayor" unless he was talking about some trouble the mayor's son ran into. But Lee did always make it clear that his career and maintaining his position was a top priority for him. Y/n often missed the man who did his best to court her and was successful after a few failed attempts. He changed a bit when they started trying for a child, but Y/n could always see it in his face that his old habits will die with him.
"She misses her father."
Lee didn't turn around to acknowledge her. He just rocked his daughter back and forth, ignoring Y/n until she began to move out of the living room.
"Be ready when I get up there," Lee called to her.
Y/n wondered how harsh he would be, or if he would be at all? When he was this on edge he liked to keep Y/n in line; he couldn't go to a stressful work environment and come home to the same. He was always gentle with their daughter and that's all that mattered. Y/n could endure his brutality, but her daughter did not deserve it when she just didn't understand much. She would be too young to remember anything but Y/n would never forget.
She washed up in the bathroom, wiping away the sweat and tears that had clung to her face throughout the day. Her appearance in the mirror looked foreign to her. Her body had changed since giving birth, something that was expected, but she looked more rugged due to stress. Lee didn't realize that whatever he felt, Y/n felt it even harder. When he ices her out, she tries to understand but the feelings of inadequacy had piled up inside of her.
Lee put their daughter to bed without much trouble. She looked so peaceful, a stark difference from the screaming she was doing when he stepped into their home. He wondered how such a sweet little thing could cause so much hell. She was completely innocent yet she made her mama cry and nearly tear her hair out. Lee felt bad for his wife having to spend days alone without help, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he didn't feel that bad.
He was still in his jacket and hat when he finally came into their bedroom. He was well-intentioned on taking a longer shower tonight but he felt all worked up. His body felt tense, but seeing his wife sitting obediently on the bed made him loosen up.
"Pretty, little nightgown," Lee whispered to himself. Y/n's face burned at his compliment. She'd never get used to him being sweet on her.
Y/n held her breath, unsure of which side of Lee she was going to get tonight. She picked out the cream nightie that reached mid-thigh. She knows just how much Lee loves her legs, he has fawned over them since they were dating, and she hoped that the sight of them would make him go easy on her. Her nipples poked through her nightgown; she was going to be leaking in the morning but her only concern was giving Lee something that would make him soften up.
She melted into the palm that was placed on her cheek. He looked down at her, his ego still stronger than ever. He was a powerful man with a strong possibility to grasp even more power, and a pretty fucking wife. He's lucky that she gave him the time of day when she had the option to run off to Cincinnati with a pretty boy. Lee was older than her other suitors, but that's what made him enticing to her then 20 year-old self.
"I overheard Phil talking about the Sheriff's wife today," Lee began to stroke her cheek as she purred up at him, "was wonderin' why a stunner like her was with a fat bastard."
"Don't call yourself that," she cut him off. He had gained a significant amount of weight since he began finding solace in sweets. She feels bad because it began when she was three months pregnant and had him bring her back something sweet everyday. Her cravings turned into his, but the difference was that hers went away after giving birth but Lee's never did. Besides, Y/n found it endearing. Maybe it's just because she's wildly in love with her husband, but she couldn't deny how much she loved to feel the weight of his belly on her back when he took her from behind and pressed her face against the bed.
"You're so sensitive, Y/n. You think I give a damn about what a man who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months has to say about me? He was right about one thing though," Lee began to unzip his work pants, "I do have a pretty wife with a pretty mouth too."
Y/n's face burned and her eyes moved away from his. Years of marriage, a baby later, and she was still bashful when he made such sexually charged comments.
Lee pulled himself out of his pants. He was hard, the tip dripping with pre-cum. From the look of it, he had probably been hard since the late hours of his work shift. Y/n hoped that he thought of her, she always did, but she knew that station was littered with smut magazines; Lee didn't see too fond of them though.
Y/n wrapped her hand around him and gave him a light squeeze just to feel how hard he was. He grunted and more pre-cum seeped from his tip. He was going to make a mess of her gown and exposed thighs if she didn't get him in her mouth.
"Good girl...always so good for me," he sighed in content.
He placed his hand on the back of her head and she welcomed him deeper into her mouth. Moments like this and all of his stress goes away. There is no county to oversee, no mayoral election, and no whispers; just his wife's wet mouth and something else that's wet between her legs. He felt at home inside of her. She sucked on him harder and his hips stuttered. Y/n did her very best to please him, to make him proud. His sweet little wife looked so wicked with his cock in her mouth.
"You keep that up and I'm going to fall over," he said through his pants.
Y/n looked up at him with innocent eyes. She was far from that when they were alone in their marriage bed. Y/n was anything Lee needed her to be, even without asking.
Lee grabbed ahold of her head and started to thrust into Y/n's mouth. She kept herself still, letting him take control of her. Her tongue applied pressure to the bottom of his shaft. His hips bucked as he lightly fucked her face until he was cumming into her mouth. She gagged when the liquid first splashed against the back of her throat, but she quelled herself and swallowed him completely, just how he likes.
"Let me see," she stuck her tongue out to show him that his seed was no longer in her mouth and he smirked, "good girl." He patted the top of her head and zipped himself back up.
"I'll be in bed soon, but don't wait up for me."
He could see how her body was begging for rest just in the way she lazily moved and the tiredness in her eyes. She wakes up before him every morning to make him breakfast, thus making her days longer than his. She didn't get up to much like he did, but long hours of nothing had probably dulled her. It was even worse when you add a screaming baby to the situation.
Y/n wanted to wait for Lee to come back to bed despite him advising against it. However, as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out. There were no sad cries from her daughter and no worrying about where Lee.
------------------------------------------
The sound of sizzling bacon in the cast iron skillet and percolator going in off was louder than Lee’s footsteps coming down the stairs in his heavy boots and jacket. He paused in the doorway, his daughter the only one to notice his presence in the room. A smile formed on his face as she squealed in delight and reached her arms out for him. Y/n looked over her shoulder to see her looking at Lee. She’s surprised that he came down for breakfast later than usual, but she was happy to see that he seemed to be in good spirits.
"You're going to be uncomfortable eating breakfast in that."
"I might not be able to stay for breakfast,” he tutted while smoothing the downy hairs on his daughter’s head.
Y/n furrowed her brow, but didn't protest. She continued with breakfast anyway. She felt Lee’s presence next to her as he pulled a teething ring out of the freezer. There were two little teeth coming in that contributed to last night's meltdown. She was much happier this morning after a good sleep; she was so oblivious to the world and everything happening around her.
The phone rang disrupting their regular morning routine. It was 7 am, too early for anyone to be calling. Lee picked it up anyway; his face first confused then sullen. Y/n couldn't help but try to eavesdrop when Lee turned away from the kitchen and walked away as far as the cord would allow him. Surely whatever he was talking about on the phone, he would tell Y/n. He always complained about whoever he had talked to on the phone. But, he had become more secretive since he entered the mayor’s race. He didn’t want her to worry, or worse, go around blabbing to one of her girlfriend’s or her parents about something Lee told her in confidence. Besides most of it was information that he didn’t think would interest her.
"Alright...I'll talk to you soon...take care."
Y/n busied herself with cooking again to cover up her nosiness. Lee stepped back in the room spilling the moment he put the phone back on the hook.
"People in town are talking."
"About what?"
"About me."
There was something about the way he talked to her that made Y/n believe he wasn’t telling the complete truth, or that the talking town was something much worse.
Y/n was not fully aware of Lee’s reputation when she had met him. She knew of him, and also wondered why a man like him was talking to her when she was fit for being a housewife at the time. Over time she learned that Lee didn't have the cleanest reputation. Little bits and pieces would be revealed to her, but by the time she heard the most damning things about him the two were already married; and the information came from Lee himself. While Y/n didn’t want to concern herself with what others thought about Lee, she absolutely did. His position depended on what people thought about him. Y/n believed that their marriage and the birth of their daughter made people see Lee in a different light. Y/n was a very nice, bright girl from a good family. She turned Lee into a family man and a man who doted on his baby girl and treated his wife sweeter than people expected from him. Whispers about him had gotten quieter when her belly became visible under her dresses. No one looked at Lee with contempt or worry anymore, they gazes softened when they saw him walking with his waddling wife.
Shortly after Lee became her boyfriend, Y/n began to hear about some of the rumors that followed Lee throughout the years. She had been told he was corrupt, frequented a local brothel, and turned a blind eye as long as he got something out of it. She was so naive to believe that people were just jealous of her. There were some women who wanted the sheriff from themselves. A year or two into her marriage, Lee began to confide in her about some things. It would only happen when he was drunk. He'd say a thing and Y/n would ask him to elaborate and he would. Covering up murders, drug deals, and allowing the brothel to stay open as long as he "got a sample" was all true. No one else in the town knew the extent of his troubling choices while on the job. Y/n didn't know what to say. He had done bad things, but he was her husband, she took an oath.
Y/n often imagined what would happen if she had told someone about his confessions. He was already the sheriff when they got married, and who would cross the sheriff? She believed that if she ever said anything he'd divorce her, spread lies about her, and she'd end up an outcast. Her options were very few especially now that she has a young child. Her fear and her devotion to him as a wife kept her silent. She has loved Lee since their third date; she wasn't going to throw her life away with him over her husband’s business that didn’t concern her. They made a promise to each other in front of family, friends, and God. Lee's burdens would become hers, and the same goes for Lee's darkness.
"Someone's been sayin that one of the girls' at that whore house been sayin' I beat her."
Lee seemed to explain it to her with ease, like he knew it wasn't true, but Lee was a good liar.
"Well, did you?"
"Why would you ask something like that?"
Lee started towards her and Y/n partially expected him to chastise her. He wouldn't do anything with their daughter a few feet away from them, she assured herself.
"You really think I'm stepping into a whore house when I come home to you every night?" His arms wrapping around her waist made Y/n smile. This is what Lee did often to deter her from asking many more questions, and it always worked, she melted right into his arms. "The last time I was in that place was to arrest someone for causing a fight, and it damn sure wasn't a whore I roughed up."
Y/n wasn't satisfied with the answer, but she nodded as if she was. She knew not to question him after he had given her an answer he deemed fit. No woman wants to believe that their husband would be at a brothel getting “serviced”. She never found signs of another woman on Lee's clothes or his car. All she'd come across was dirt on the bottom of his pants and candy wrappers in his car. "You've got to believe me Y/n." His eyes spoke the truth, she believed. Y/n pecked his lips and Lee’s arms dropped from her waist.
"Sorry I can't stay for breakfast, but if I want to get back home earlier then I have to go in early. You two girls have fun together," Lee kissed Y/n's lips again before walking over to his daughter and kissing her forehead. She giggled when she felt his lips on her head. He was happy to see her in a better mood, but he didn't want a repeat of last night, "don't give your mama such a hard time today, okay? If I hear you been bad, I'm gonna have to put you in baby jail." She had no idea what he was saying, she just enjoyed hearing her daddy's voice.
"Be safe Lee. Please."
He nodded at her sympathetically before leaving. She heard his patrol car rev up and he was pulling out of the driveway. Y/n worries so much, but every night Lee has come home to her without a scratch on him.
------------------------------------------
Paul Sullivan has been the mayor for as long as Y/n could remember. He’s getting up and age but he’s a very beloved man. His popularity made Y/n worry about Lee’s own chances. The only thing that could knock the man down was his son’s reckless behavior. Darrel Sullivan was a few years younger than Lee and had a penchant for hard liquor and trouble. When his name started being involved in almost weekly bar fights, people started to wonder how a man as good as Paul could raise a son like that?
Lee had used the mayor’s trouble kid to his advantage. It just so happened that once Lee decided to run, Darrel ran into even more trouble. The last offense ended him up with a three month jail sentence (of course his father was responsible for such a lower number of months he spent in jail). A baggy of cocaine was found in his car. When did the mayor’s son escalate to cocaine when his vice had only been alcohol for years?
“It was bound to happen at some point. That boy’s brain is so used to booze that he had to turn to something much harder.”
The talk of the town had satisfied Lee for weeks after the arrest.
Y/n didn’t have to be told by him to know that the cocaine wasn’t Darrel’s and that it was planted. She felt bad for Darrel, but he wasn’t so nice to women so maybe some time in jail would do him and everyone around him some good. Still, Y/n was sort of shocked to see what lengths her husband would go to win. He often played dirty to get what he wanted, but messing with the mayor’s son who has evaded so much trouble was a very close call. Lee was lucky that he got away with it and many people didn’t have questions about it.
That phone Lee received this morning spooked her a bit. No one has ever called just to say there were rumors about him. It was a much bigger problem than her husband wanted to let on.
Y/n did her best to campaign upon Lee’s behalf. She’d tell all the girls at the salon about the newest dress Lee bought her and let the strangers know who stopped to tell her kid was cute just who her father was. Her efforts didn’t go unnoticed either. Her closest girlfriends were always eager to tell her that they overheard someone talking about how wonderful Lee’s wife and daughter are. Y/n believed that she wasn’t going to have to do much more than that, but some people didn’t care much about pretty wives or cute babies when the sheriff was allegedly causing trouble.
Lee’s approach lately has been much more careful. He can’t get caught planting evidence on the wrong person or having someone rat him out. He was growing increasingly paranoid that the townsfolk were watching him closely. Even his deputies got the brunt of some of his delusions. Y/n saw the wild look in his eye every time he would confide his problems to her. Sometimes his words would blend together in a drunken ramble. Bodies...the river...laundering. He scared her sometimes, but she didn’t say anything. Y/n knows her husband has at least killed someone in cold blood; he confessed it in so many words. She wouldn’t be surprised if it has happened two or three times. She didn’t concern herself with the circumstances. If Lee had killed someone then it was probably justified in the eyes of morality and it wasn’t her business.
All of his revelations hardened her. She stopped being shocked after the fourth time Lee let something slip. Lee had never been violent with her the entirety of their relationship. He gets mad, he yells, and he has been guilty of calling her a name or two, but never ever has he laid a finger on her. Y/n was mostly an obedient wife so Lee never found a reason to be forceful with her. The only time Lee took out any aggression was on her was in the bedroom, but he figured she liked it because she’d moan louder than when he’s most gentle with her. Y/n wasn’t too fond of it at first, but she learned to love it and all the rough edges that began to appear as the years together had gone on.
“Here’s the plan for today, little one. You’re going to spend some time with the nice neighbor girl and you’re going to be a very good girl for her, okay? Okay honey?”
Her daughter just looked up at her from her little pallet on the floor. The toys that surrounded her were mostly bought by Lee. There were a few from her parents, but Lee was responsible for buying her too many toys.
While Y/n had never considered hiring a nanny before, it was often suggested to her. Lee even told her to hire some help before the days get too rough and he's gone for longer throughout the day. However, Y/n was always hard-headed. She didn’t need the help, this was just a tough time with their daughter’s teeth coming in. Besides Y/n’s mother was just a phone call away. She always had an answer for Y/n that came from her years of being a midwife and from raising her own children.
The only reason why she was calling over the Peterson's teenage daughter to come babysit was because she couldn’t help Lee in the ways that were needed and bring her baby along with her. Normally she’d put her daughter in her stroller and they were out and about, but this wasn't a regular daily task. It was summertime and her neighbor's daughter probably needed something to do while making some money on top of it.
"Does she need to go down for a nap, Mrs. Bodecker?"
"Not for another hour or two. She shouldn't be hungry or wet. Her teeth are starting to come in so she may get fussy, her teething ring is in the freezer and if that doesn't work then sing Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star to her."
Y/n knew it was a lot for the 16-year-old girl to take in, but she still nodded at every word Y/n said as if she got it all. Of all the little time her daughter had been here on Earth, Y/n had not left her alone with a stranger. It was hard for her to say goodbye to her little girl and leave her with a teenager, but it was bound to happen someday. And the afternoon was almost over, her day was calling for her to begin it.
Lee would be so pissed if he learned that Y/n was driving his car. She wasn't that great with the manual transmission, but she was only taking a short trip to her parent's house. Her brother was home to visit from Cincinnati. He was the child who went to the city unlike his sister. His original plan was to stay while Y/n wanted to go, but she had met Lee and decided to stay. Her brother never explained to her why he left for the city. She didn’t want to ask him too much in fear of prying into his business.
Y/n's parents were incredibly happy about Y/n’s relationship with Lee because that meant their only daughter was bound to stay near them. Her father respected Lee and often disregarded the town’s gossip because he saw it just as that: gossip.
Her brother David was a different story. He didn't really like his brother-in-law. The age gap between them was his biggest concern. “Don’t meddle in your sister’s life. Lee is a good man,” there mother had once tried to persuade him. It was tough when he heard rumors that Y/n didn't even know about at the time because she was younger. He moved to the city before he could hear just how worse things have gotten with the gossip about Lee Bodecker. David wasn't too thrilled to return for Y/n and Lee’s wedding.
Y/n found his disdain with Lee rather comical. Lee was a protective older brother just like David was, but they just couldn't see eye to eye. She recalls the Christmas fight that happened three years ago. David nearly kicked Lee's ass but his little sister protected her husband by shielding him. Y/n didn't want to involve herself, but if she had to pick where her loyalty lied, it would be with her husband.
"Why you stop by without bringing my gorgeous, little niece?" David wrapped his arms around his sister, surprised to see her pulling up by herself, but happy nonetheless.
"You can come over any time to see her David," Y/n ignores the frown that falls on her brother's face, "are mom and pop home?"
"Ma's at the salon and pop is outback cutting up some wood. I tried to stop him. His arthritis is getting worse, but he gives Ma and I hell every time we tell him to slow down. Is everything alright?"
"Yes. I just need a favor."
If she was asking her visiting big brother for help instead of her husband or their father, then it must be something she's trying to keep quiet. David was weary about his sister being secretive when she has an eight month old baby at home. In his eyes, if she's sneaking around then it's some sort of trouble.
"What kind?"
"Can I borrow your truck?" Y/n didn't elaborate, she just hoped that he'd say yes.
She can't go around town driving in a familiar car. Lee's personal car was too expensive not to notice and her father's truck had a damn logo on it. David's car though was perfect; no one would recognize the plates because he bought it two years ago from a dealership in Cincinnati, but it would blend in with any car that would be driven in Brewer Heights.
"Is something wrong with the cadillac?"
"No. I just don't want to be noticed. You know Lee doesn’t like me driving around in his fancy car."
If it wasn't for the immense trust David had in his sister, he'd say no. Something about her was off; her sweet demeanor replaced by something more discomposed. It was the same look on her face the night he had caught her trying to sneak out of the house when she was 14. Whatever she wanted to do, it would probably be better handled by someone else, but he didn't ask anymore questions, just handed her the keys.
“Get back before it gets dark, and be safe.”
“You sound just like pop,” she tried to joke to mitigate his worry but he kept a stern look on his face.
“I’m serious Y/n.”
"I'll be back soon," she promised. Of course she would, she has a child at home.
David watched her peel out of the dirt driveway and his car disappeared from sight. He only worried because he didn’t know what the problem was and she looked like she was dying to say something. Maybe in due time she’ll be able to tell her brother everything. Maybe they’ll laugh about it when the years have passed and they’re up in age.
The streets started to become unrecognizable as she drove away from her parent’s home and a much different part of the county. Y/n struggled to materialize the exact location of her destination but from what she had gathered it was at the edge of town, almost entering a different county. All she's ever heard about it was that it was in a "shady part of Knockemstiff." “Shady” meant so many different things because she found the bar that Lee liked to stop at sometimes after a shift to be “shady.”
She hoped to God that Lee was stuck at the office with paperwork and not out patrolling. The sun was going to be setting soon and if he caught her over here all alone past dark, he may just never let her leave the house ever again.
Y/n was not ready to admit what she had planned, especially not to Lee. She herself hadn’t reckoned with it herself. The station her brother had on annoyed her. She turned it off and sat in silence. The only noise that accompanied her was the whirling sound of the wind that slipped through the cracked window. Her eyes peered at every building until they became less frequent. She could hear her blood moving through her veins as she gripped the steering wheel. Did Lee get this way when he did something he wasn’t supposed to? Surely he would be more composed than her, but he has the experience.
She tried to lighten herself up by putting herself in Lee’s shoes. He probably wouldn’t hesitate or second guess his actions. If he did it, he most likely believed that the end justifies the means. No one who was innocent was ever hurt. They may have not committed a crime at the time, but they had before and would do it again. Y/n would have her own confessions to tell Y/n some day. She doesn’t need alcohol to spill her sins. Lee’s presence alone was compelling enough to get her to divulge her crimes, even the harmless ones.
The fact that she’s been driving around for a good half-an-hour lessened her anxiety but increased her impatience. She didn’t realize just how big the county was. It’s been a while since she drove herself anywhere. It was freeing, but she did miss her husband acting as her chauffeur. The thought of Lee driving her to the very brothel he has been accused of frequenting before he was a married man was comical. The consequences of her getting caught was only scary when she thought about how Lee would react.
There was a large clearing of land before Y/n reached another set of buildings. A memory about one of them made her pump the break before passing the entry to turn in. She made a sharp turn into it's parking lot. Jimmy, her high school boyfriend, tried to sneak her into some bar but she was caught about her brother who also happened to be there. She remembered the distinct color of the door; neon green. It was an eyesore but it had never been changed, even when they switched owners. The place had closed down years later due to an excess of minors being able to sneak in.
The crappy bar was not her concern, but the place next to it. She remembers Jimmy’s distinct voice whispering in her ear, the smell of alcohol ripe on his breath.
"That's where the girls who got nothing but good pussy between their legs go."
She had flinched at the words he used. She wondered what he meant by that, only 14 at the time and not really able to comprehend the concept of a brothel. It was the first time she's heard anyone refer to a woman's private parts as a "pussy..
Y/n didn’t expect the parking lot to be so empty. It was pretty early in the evening, maybe people did not want to be at a whore house when there was still daylight. Only one car sat in the parking lot of the bar. There was a makeshift parking lot on the side of the building and next to the old bar. It looked like it was not taken care of properly and a fire hazard waiting to happen.
She circled around the building, eyeing it to see if there were windows to see inside somehow. Only a few small windows were on the building, but they were either foggy or covered in moss that it was a futile attempt.. Tire markings covered the dirt right in the back of the building. Y/n figured that most people parked back here so they wouldn’t get caught by any passing cars or authority. There was not much that could kill a man’s reputation like being caught in this place.
Y/n settled for parking her car on the side of the bar. The likelihood of someone driving by and being able to see the plates of her brother’s car was very slim, but she found herself being extra careful.
Upon her arrival at the door, Y/n told herself she had no idea what she's doing, nor what she should expect. It probably wasn't common for a woman to walk into a whore house unless she was a whore herself. She hoped that she was unrecognizable with her usually pinned-up hair cascaded over her shoulders and a different shade of lipstick on her lips. The sunglasses were a last minute, ridiculous purchase, but it gave her a layer of protection. At least she could wear a disguise, Lee didn’t have anything to protect his identity when he did his own sinful acts. The least she could do for her husband is to not get herself caught.
Y/n wonders if Lee hadn’t been so secretive, would she have to do this? Lee did his best to hide things from his wife, but she isn't stupid, she goes out in town and hears things about her husband. Those rumors weren't small like he tried to lead on. "Someone" always meant more than ten people. In her eyes, this had been a long time coming; it was only a matter of time before she got sucked into his world without the intention of doing so. She could only feel so compelled to protect a man no matter the consequences if she loved him more than life itself.
If he wanted to be secretive under the guise of “protecting” her then fine, but she hated that she had to piece everything together on her own. She heard his late night conversations when he failed to make sure she was sleeping. Whoever he talked to, they talked about a lot of things that didn’t sound wholly legal. From what she picked up from his phone call concerning this dilemma was that the owner of this place was referred to as “Reed”. He didn't seem too fond of Lee, and from the sound of her husband’s voice, the feeling was mutual. She had trouble keeping up with all the technical jargon of Lee’s phone conversations, but from her understanding Lee was threatening to get the place shut down. It would be a good look for him in his bid for being mayor. He would look like a hero if all the crime and sleaziness of this county was suddenly dealt with. Maybe they’d put his picture in the newspaper and dedicated a lengthy article to him and Y/n could clip it to the refrigerator.
No one would think twice about connecting the dots that Lee was connected to several illegal operations going on around the county. Of all the rumors she has heard about Lee, the whore house bothered her most. It made her feel vain that she was only concerned with her husband cheating on her and not potential murders he has committed. Insecurity crept into her as she visualized her husband stepping through these exact same doors and finding his pleasure in a woman that had more experience than her. She did believe her husband when he said he hadn't stepped out on her while they were married, but that didn’t include their entire relationship. It shouldn’t matter because she was the one he decided to marry, but it still lingered in the back of her mind.
Her body shook to the core as she opened the door. She swallowed thickly as she wondered what sight she would be greeted by. It was an anti-climatic moment when she fully stepped inside to an empty place. It looked like a makeshift motel lobby and bar at the same time. Y/n thought it would be something more shabby and slimy, but it was not. Some pin-up model posters were plastered on the wall along with photos of random musicians. There were oddly a lot of photos of Frank Sinatra that had their own little corner of the wall. It was hard to determine what the vibe of this “establishment” was. One thing for sure is that she felt like an intruder. The posers on the wall made her feel stupidly bashful; this was a man’s domains and not a place for someone’s wife.
"Can I help you darlin?"
The smooth voice belonged to an older man. Y/n figured he was “Reed” because he looked like a Reed. And he appeared to be the only person here. She doubts a random patron would take to cleaning the place up by sweeping the floors.
"Uh -- are you Mr. Reed?"
Surprisingly, he just laughed at her stumbling over her words. It hadn’t dawn on her prior to a few moments ago that he knew his way around talking to a nervous girl. She ironically hoped that he thought she was just a lost whore, and that she wasn’t recognized as the sheriff’s wife.
"I am darlin’. Is there something I can help you with?" He asked again. Y/n was surprised that he wasn't intimidating, or greasy. He seemed so simple and kind, but he just happened to run a brothel. And he was the man who was saying awful things about her husband.
"I'm looking for a job," she made sure her words were as natural as possible. The little script she created in her head seemed like it would be easy to see-through, "I-I’m just wondering if you were looking for a waitress or someone to clean the place?"
A sly smile spread across his face. A shiver ran down her spine as she felt just how insidious this man was. A glance at him and he was unsuspecting, but a few moments with him, especially when he’s alone with a pretty girl and his true nature was hard to hide.
"You've come to a good place, darlin’. Let me put this away and I'll show you to my office."
He put the broom he held back into a closet and beckoned for her to follow him. Her heart thumped loudly as she followed him to potential danger. He could assault her or do something worse if he really wanted to. She was vulnerable now and just had to trust the process.
They had passed multiple doors to get to his office, probably the doors where the girls would stay and please customers. Y/n tried not to imagine Lee being behind one of those doors with a woman touching his body. This place smelled like tawdry perfume, luckily something she has never smelled on Lee’s clothes.
"Do you have any experience waitressing?" He said the word as if he wanted her to believe that this place was anything but a brothel. For him it was possible that she really thought this place was something innocent, but he could always persuade a pretty girl who looked lost to work for him.
"A few years...I was a waitress with my friend in Columbus for a year."
"Columbus? Why did you leave darlin’?" Y/n wanted to cringe at his constant pet name. No man talked to her like that besides her husband. It felt dirty to hear him call her something reserved for Lee and Lee only.
"Got into some trouble. My ex roughed me up a bit and I had to leave," Y/n recalled the story her brother told about one of his college friends: a homely sorority girl who got caught up with the wrong guy. She felt bad using the poor girl's story and reclaiming it as her own, but a sob story would make this man more likely to take her in if she guessed correctly.
"Well, I don't know if I'm taking anymore girls in-"
"Please!? Please? I don't have anywhere else to go. I really need the money and a place to stay. It was hell getting up here," she implored.
Hearing her beg like that made his cock harden in his pants. There was something about a sweet little thing begging for his help that turned him on. He had no intention of turning her away from the beginning, but it was also nice to know how desperate a girl was; that made it easier for him to get a taste for himself.
However, Reed was either too horny or just an idiot to realize that a girl who had been traveling alone and from Columbus wouldn't be wearing such a nice dress that looked untouched. He was a sadistic bastard who liked employing girls that he can push around and Y/n was beginning to see that due to his negligence.
His appearance absolutely covered up for how mean he was. Most bruises that ended up on his girls weren't from customers, but from him. He had to control himself when customers started to complain about the marks on the girls. (It was not like they cared for their well-being, they just wanted to fuck girls who were looked clean and pretty. Those men just wanted their fantasies fulfilled). His rage was taken out in psychological ways now instead of physical. He made sure those girls were in hell with no escape. He was sweeter on them if they opened their legs for him, but he was well aware that he could get away with doing whatever he wanted to them because they had nowhere else to go. If Y/n knew half the stuff he did then she wouldn't feel as guilty for what she was planning to do to him.
"I don't just hire anyone -- say, what’s your name darlin’?"
"Mary. My name is Mary."
"You gotta prove you deserve to work for me, Mary. Why don't you stand up and turn around for me."
Y/n dreaded following his orders, obeying him and spinning around slowly in her dress for him. The only man she had done that for was Lee. She felt like she was cheating on him, but she remembered that it was for him. His face was etched in her mind the entire time. The thought of him comforted her as she pretended like he was there with her as if he was God’s spirit, wrapping her in a feeling of vengeance instead of love.
"You sure are a pretty little thing. You been fucked before?"
"Once. Just by my ex-boyfriend."
"Good. I'm sure that pussy is still tight, I can just say you're a virgin and make one of those fuckers pay a heavy price for a piece of you."
Y/n nearly looked at him in horror, but gave him a half-hearted smile instead. She would act like she was grateful for him giving her a chance to make money. Her stomach churned at the thought of possibly not making it out of here. Reed’s eyes had darkened once he knew that she was in his grasp with no easy escape. He was a big man who could easily overpower her if she tried to do something stupid. But she seemed so obedient, like a perfect little girl.
"I can get you a bed, but you're going to have to reuse the clothes that are in there already. The girl who stayed there last up and ran away,” Y/n was very doubtful about that. Reed began rummaging through his drawer, pulling out a bottle of liquor before continuing, “If they don't fit you can trade with one of the other girls. You and the rest of the girls stay in your room until it's time to open. Can't have any of you roaming around in case one of those bastard cops decide to give me some trouble."
Her eyes glanced at the clock on the wall, it was nearly 8 o’clock. She did not think it would go this smoothly so far. Her anxiety didn’t cause her to make any major flubs that would get her caught; she just came off as an unsuspecting girl. Y/n just didn’t realize how simple a man could be in the presence of an attractive woman.
"Place opens at 9 every night, ‘cept for Sundays. I’m going to let you go get ready soon but I need you to learn my rules before you go out there and do something to piss me off," he shuffled in his seat for a few seconds, his face painted with discomfort, "first I need to go piss. Can you stay here and wait for me darlin’? Of course you can,” he left without waiting for a response from her.
Y/n waited until he opened his office door and closed it behind him. She had limited time to do what she had to do. She quickly moved behind his desk and began to fly through his drawers looking for arsenic.
There was a conversation she remembers Lee having with one of the men in town when they stopped in the middle of an aisle at the grocery store to talk. Most men believed that their wives weren’t interested in listening to whatever they’ve got to talk about with other men. Or that they just don’t understand what the hell they’re talking about. That may be true for Y/n most of the time but her ears perked up when she had heard certain words. Y/n had a penchant for being nosey ever since she was a kid, but it usually got her in trouble. She tried not to eavesdrop on Lee’s conversations but he made it so hard when he started to whisper and look around to make sure no one else was near.
A word like "syphilis" had Y/n scratching her head. She hadn't heard of it before but apparently a man in town died from it after contracting it "at the whore house." It sounded serious. and from the context, something you get from fucking someone without a condom.
A few books at the library confirmed her suspicions. She had to re-read some sentences to fully grasp what she was reading. From what she gathered, syphilis was treated with “magic” arsenic before they switched to penicillin. However, with Mr. Reed being referred to as a "cheap” and “old school” man multiple times in Lee’s conversation with the man at the grocery store, she believed (or at least hoped) that he still used that old method. But instead of Salvarsan, she found something that looked much cheaper and like it wasn’t obtained legally. She grabbed as many vials as she could and just began to dump them into his glass that held his dark liquor. She did it rather sloppily, her hands shaking when she realized that this was it. It was possible that she was more scared of getting caught by him than killing the old man. He’d probably beat her until she was unrecognizable.
Y/n desperately hoped it would work. If it didn't kill him, then it would certainly impair him since he was up in age and probably didn't take good care of his health anyway. She tossed the empty vials into one of the drawers of his desk and wiped whatever residue was on her hands onto the tacky shag rug on the floor. She had to get it off of her hand before getting in her brother’s car. She didn’t consider the risk of poisoning herself, but it arose inside of her the moment she felt a few splashes onto her fingers.
"Ok sweetheart," he had caught her on her knees, "what are you doing?"
"I-I dropped my earring."
He couldn't see her ears due to her hair covering them. He grumbled something about "women" but moved to his seat without question.
Y/n got off the floor and sat in the chair in front of him. He looked a little annoyed with her now instead of eyeing her like a piece of meat like he had done for the entirety of their time alone. She watched his hand intently, waiting for him to wrap his hand around his glass and bring it up to his lips.
"I run a tight house here. None of my whores act up and I expect the same for you. If you're good for daddy, he'll be good to you."
A loud buzzing in her ears made his words unintelligible. She panicked and wondered if it was the little amount of arsenic that got on her hand that was making her feel sick to her stomach. She needed to clean herself up, and Reed needed to wrap this up. But he just talked and talked and talked while she nodded along like she really cared or was paying attention. She held her breath as he picked his glass up and took the first sip of his poisoned alcohol. Y/n isn't sure why she expected an immediate reaction from him, maybe for him to spit it out or clutch his chest, but he just carried on. It was going to take time, and she just had to wait it out. She had probably about 45 minute left before it was opening time. What if there were people already starting to come? What if one of the girls was roaming around now?
"You got that darlin'?"
"Yes," Y/n choked out, not realizing Reed had finished his spiel.
"Alright. Your room is upstairs, take a left and it’s the third room on the right hand side. Just because you’re new doesn’t mean I won’t have your ass if you’re late," he kicked up his heels and reclined in his chair as he placed a cigarette between his lips. He lit it up and blew smoke right in Y/n’s direction, disregarding her grimace, “I’ll probably just let a few men use your throat tonight. Don’t worry, I won’t let them touch that pretty little pussy yet.”
Reed smiled coyly as if he was doing her a favor. He nodded towards the door and Y/n hot tailed it out of there. She didn't realize that she wasn't breathing right until she let out an exhale and then inhaled deeply. If he wasn't going to experience symptoms right away then it was going to take some time. There she ran the risk of him being able to get some help. It wasn’t likely that many people would call the cops to help a dying brothel owner, but she panicked that maybe somebody would.
Barricading him inside of his office was the only thing to give her reassurance. She grabbed one of the bar stools, heavier than she expected, and trudged towards his door. She gently placed the first one against the door so as to not to make a noise that would cause him to see what’s going on. Y/n did her best to run back and forth in her flats and placed each stool against his door until there were no more left. She added a few chairs to the growing pile to make sure it stuck.
Y/n paused when she heard someone starting to rouse. Whoever it was, or what, stopped making noise after a few seconds. Y/n looked up and started praying to God that she would not get caught, but the irony of wishing for someone to die did not escape her.
God just may have been on her side though. She got out of there with clean hands and not a single mark on her skin. Y/n knew that Lee couldn’t know about this just quite yet, but she begins to fantasize about Lee being proud of her and taking her to bed afterwards.
------------------------------------------
"Where have you been?” Imagine Lee’s surprise when he saw his neighbor’s teen daughter holding his little girl. Nothing seemed to be wrong, in fact his daughter was giggling at something the teen was doing. However, Y/n had not told him hiring a babysitter, nor did he know she was going to go out. She always told him if she was going out. If it was a spontaneous decision then a new question rose of where the hell she was during the darker hours of the day.
"I went to visit my parents and must have lost track of time,” Y/n kissed his cheek like she always does. She knows how to get Lee’s attention on something else, “David is in town and I wanted to see him-”
She was cut off by the sound of her husband groaning. It wasn’t often that his brother-in-law came into town, so it was only a matter of time before Y/n was dragging him over to her parents house for dinner.
“Whatever. Just put the girl to bed.”
Probably the first time, Y/n was happy to see that Lee was too tired to talk to her. She doubts he’ll have questions later about her whereabouts, especially if the death of the brothel owner hits his desk by tomorrow morning.
Y/n won’t worry about it tonight. She’s fine. Everything will be fine.
Their daughter went down easy tonight. She was tuckered out from her day with the babysitter. “Good night baby,” Y/n kissed her forehead and prayed that she would sleep through the night instead of waking up crying for a feed.
Y/n walked into the bedroom to Lee undressing himself. “Join me,” he nodded his head in the direction of their bathroom. There was a smile on his face, a sly one but not as lascivious as Reed’s. After being in the presence of such an awful man she was surprised that her body warmed at the idea of Lee’s hands roaming her body. He’s the only man she wants to be obedient for. The hot water on her skin cleaned her and the cum that sputtered out from Lee’s hard-on anointed her.
“You feel so fucking good. Oh God...I was thinking about this pussy when I was at work...almost had to touch myself.”
Lee’s words were similar to the ones Reed had used earlier but they purified her. Her cheek pressed against the tiled wall as he fully pushed himself inside of her, hands gripping her hip. There was a low sound of their wet skin slapping together coupled with Lee’s own grunts. Y/n wasn’t particularly in the mood to have sex, but she just needed Lee close to her.
“I’m gonna cum Y/n -- I’m gonna cum honey-” his voice was cut off by his orgasm as he emptied himself inside of her.
He slumped against her, his face pressed against her back as his arms wrapped her waist to bring her body closer against his.
“Do you think I’m gonna win?”
Y/n wiggled out of his grasp and turned off the water that was beating down on their skin. Water continued to fall down his face; his eyes were more than tired, they were sullen.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think people are really going to vote for me? They love that old bastard so damn much even though he’s old as shit.”
“Lee? Where is this coming from? Why are you so worried? People respect you-”
“But it doesn’t mean they like me. You and I both know that most of the people didn’t even start being friendly with me until the little one came along.” It was sort of his own fault, but Y/n would never tell him that.
“Don’t worry Lee,” she cupped his face, something he normally does, but it was nice to switch roles, “everything will be alright. I promise. You’re going to be mayor and I’m going to be the mayor’s wife.”
He nodded at her reassurance, but his doubt was hard to push away. He felt foolish being so vulnerable and borderline emotional about this, but his wife made him feel better. Her eyes were honest and words earnest when she said, “everything will be alright.”
Lee believed her.
#lee bodecker#lee bodecker x reader#lee bodecker x you#lee bodecker x y/n#lee bodecker smut#the devil all the time#dark fic#lee bodecker fic#sebastian stan fic
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His salvation
Note - for my love @evnscvll's 3k follower challenge. Congrats and i hope you like it.
Anon asked for "Mobster!steve making u dress in white lingerie specifically and act innocent so the purity of it is always a contrast to him and his gritty life whew it is hot in here"
Summary - You're Steves light. He can't let you go even if he knows he's bad for you.
Themes - mob au, smut, pwp, soft dark Steve, master/sir kink, dom/sub dynamics, cockwarming, slut shaming.
Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader
Word count - 2.3k
Masterlist is linked in the bio!
Steve had always believed he was born in blood and darkness. Doomed to stay there forever. Forced to do things he didn’t want.
To have people expect the world from him. Put him up on a pedestal. Having to match their standards.
Maybe no one is truly forced to do anything. Maybe that’s a lie he told himself so he could sleep at night.
It didn’t really matter either way. His soul would forever be tainted. No matter how many times he washed them, his hands will always be dirty.
His father died when he was only 20. As sad as he was. He was free as well. He was almost happy. He thought he wouldn’t have to live under the mobsters tight fist anymore. That he could use his power and his name for some good.
But he was surrounded by cartels, gangs and bad men. Who he owed many things to, on his fathers behalf. He never did try to stop fighting to get out of the quicksand, which only made him sink further. Believing that there would always be a light at the end of the tunnel. That someday he'd get to be normal.
Turns out the light was you. He decided so as soon as he saw you. Who knew a sweet simple waitress would save him from himself.
You were all smiles and politeness as you took down his and his associates orders. He still remembers your smudged pink lipstick, your white apron.
He found out how innocent and pure you were when you finally gave in and let him take you out to dinner. He doubted you had ever done anything bad in your life.
He choked on his wine when you told him that you’re a virgin. He had his suspicions but he really couldn’t believe how no one had ever touched someone as beautiful as you and took your innocence away.
He was elated when you told him that you wanted him to be your first. That you couldn’t be with anyone but him. That he had ruined you for other men.
The first time with you was the greatest night of his life. The best sex he ever had. Who knew it'd be with a virgin?
You weren’t like most women. Flaunting around their assets, leaving nothing to the imagination.
No. You were real and honest. So responsive to his touch. Your moans didn’t sound rehearsed, as if something you copied from watching too much gratuitous pornography.
Your cunt was adorned with soft dark curls. Completely natural. Just the way he liked. He drank from you as if he hadn’t drank anything for years. Revelling in the way he made you feel so good that you cried real tears for him.
But loving you came with a price. He couldn’t help but feel terrified of just how intense his feelings were. Because he knew you deserved the whole world. You deserved to be happy.
Because he knew he wasn’t the best for you. It wouldn’t be too long before you found out what he did for a living.
If you wanted to leave it would be understandable. But would he let you? He didn’t know.
He walked into your shared bedroom when you didn’t greet him at the door, he assumed you’d be asleep. But here you were putting on some sort of concoction on your face.
He put the little gift he got you aside and sneaked up behind you.
“Boo!” He screamed in your ear and chuckled at the startled noise you made.
You frowned as you spilled the multani clay all over your lap. All thanks to your man. You looked at him over your shoulder. Your frown creasing the drying clay on your face. “Thanks a lot.” You stood up removing your soiled robe.
His smile left his face as he delivered a harsh smack on your behind. You yelped and landed your palms down on your dressing table to support your weight.
He leaned in close to whisper in your ear. “What have we said about sassing me my dear?” He whispered lowly, caressing your bum before smacking it again.
“Only bad girls talk back.” You whimpered tears spilling from your eyes. “I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean to.” You sobbed as he kept delivering sharp smacks to both your cheeks. Disappointed that you let him down, feeling the sharp pain in your ass, humiliated at the wetness pooling between your legs.
He sneaked a hand up your nightgown and past your panties. Pressing a thumb against your second hole. One he hadn’t had the opportunity to fuck yet. “Maybe I should some pay attention here as well.” He suggested pressing his thumb inside you.
“Whatever you want sir. I’ll do anything for you.” You breathed out as you felt him push two of his fingers in your heat. Working both your holes expertly. Almost tipping you over the edge.
You would be embarrassed of just how he could play with you so well that he had you cuming in mere minutes. But right now you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Too lost in the glorious pleasure. You had missed him terribly for the last few days. You couldn’t even touch yourself to relieve your aching pussy. It was against the rules laid out by Steve.
He pulled his fingers out of you all too soon as you whimpered at the loss. More tears escaping your eyes wetting the clay you had put on.
He delivered another sharp slap to your upper thigh. “Stop it. You know bad girls don’t get to cum.” He chastised your insolent behavior. He wanted to feel you gush around his fingers, but he couldn’t have you thinking you could speak to him however you liked.
To be so arrogant and bratty was unbecoming of you and he wasn’t having any of it. “It’s your own fault. You ruined it for both of us.” He said sternly as he moved you around to make you look at him.
His heart melted, all his anger fading away at the defeated and sad look on your face. “What’s this on your face?” He frowned at your brown face pack. Restricting him from seeing your face.
“It’s supposed to be good for your skin. I was just getting ready for our anniversary tomorrow.” You looked down shyly averting his eyes “I wanted to look pretty for you sir.” You mumbled.
You were too good to be true. So kind and considerate to him when he had just been so cruel and malicious to you. He supposed the stark contrast was only one of the million things he loved about you and your relationship.
He hummed at. Almost dropping to his knees then and there to finish you off with his mouth. But he had other plans for tonight.
He pushed his wet middle and forefinger, which were deep inside your cunt just a few seconds ago, against your lips. “You know what to do princess.” He instructed as you them in your mouth, suckling on them to clean them up.
He could hardly hold on. Just imagining your warm wet mouth around his cock had him almost cuming in his pants.
“Wash it off doll. You don’t need it. If you become anymore beautiful I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” He growled gripping your hips, perhaps a bit too harshly, grinding his hardness against your core.
You let out another pathetic whimper and gave him a small nod, complying instantly like you always do, walking towards the bathroom.
“Wait” He called out stopping you in your tracks. He handed you the paper bag. “Put that on.” He instructed.
“What is it?” You curiously peeked inside the bag.
“It’s your anniversary gift doll. Now go put it on.” He said growing more and more impatient by the minute. You hurried off into the bathroom. It was really more of a gift for him than you. But he had bought you some diamonds and pretty purses. He didn’t feel that guilty.
If he did have any semblance of guilt, it instantly faded away as he laid his eyes on you. Wearing the white satin baby doll he had picked out, with white lace on the edge of it. It ended just below your ass, giving him a generous view of your thick thighs and legs.
“Come here dove.” He extended an arm to you as you lingered at the bathroom door. Playing with the lace of your new nightie.
You gulped down and walked to him and stood in front of him. “Uh sir...” You trailed off as you couldn’t gather enough courage, not being able to concentrate with his large hands roaming freely on your body.
“What dove?” He asked feeling your ass over the smooth material.
“It – didn’t have any panties. Did they fall somewhere or something?” You stammered so embarrassed that you felt you’d cry.
You trusted Steve with your life but you couldn’t help the but feel exposed and embarrassed whenever his hungry eyes feasted upon you when you were naked. You had never put on any kind of lingerie for him before. Steve never seemed to mind your simple bras or comfortable granny panties. This was so new and scary for you. But at the same time oh so exciting.
“It did come with panties. But satin isn’t supposed to be good for you dove.” He explained. “I prefer you this way. It gives me free reign to do whatever I want with you.” He slipped a hand between your legs and caressed the inside of your thighs.
“At the end of the day. You are mine.” He pulled his hand away and jutted your chin up to make you look at him. “Now don’t you think you should apologize for being so rude to your master?” He asked and you nodded eagerly. “Get to work then. If you do a good job maybe I’ll go easy on you.” He said pushing on your shoulders to make you kneel in front of him.
Your shaky fingers worked to undo his zipper and pulling him out of his underwear. You gasped as his cockhead slapped your face before standing tall against his lower abdomen.
You licked your hand wrapping it around his thick length. You stroked him slowly watching in awe as beads of white cream oozed from his tip.
“You can do better than that.” He groaned nudging his cock against your lips and slowly pushing it in. He grunted at your warmth and wetness as he bottomed out, touching the back of your throat. Smirking as you gagged around him.
He looked down at you. Wishing he could rip out his phone and capture the image forever. You on your knees, looking up at him adoringly as if he’s your whole world, your mouth stretched wide as he fucked it. He was living the dream.
He grabbed a hold of your head with both his hands and hastily pushed and pulled out of your mouth. You cupped his balls and played with them, just as he had taught you.
He pulled you off of him. You looked up at him scared that he was still mad with you. “Aw don’t look so disappointed.” He cooed smoothening his hand over your hair “Need to cum in your cunt.” He rasped. “I’ll let you swallow it later dove. I plan to go all night.” He smirked as your eyes widened. Probably worried about how you could keep up with him. He did love testing you.
He impatiently manhandled you and dropped you on the bed. Making quick work of taking off his shirt and pants. He settled between your legs wrapping them around his waist. He wanted to taste you. To get lost between your legs. But he’d save that for later as well.
You bit his shoulder as he entered you. Still not used to his length. Your cunt burning in the best way at the hard and warm weight of him.
“Oh Steve...” You chanted his name and then a series of ‘oh my goodness' as he fucked into you, the sounds of his balls slapping your cunt so purely sinful. He didn’t mind you saying his given name while so delirious with pleasure. It was the only thing he was willing to look past.
He was almost there. Going days without you had only served to feed his hunger for you. But he held off. He wanted to see you finish first.
You looked so gorgeous, completely fucked out under him. Your breasts bouncing under the thin satin as he pounded into you. He lifted your hips and gave a particularly harsh thrust to strike your special spot.
From the way you screamed at the top of your lungs he knew he found it.
Being the sweet angel that you are, you had always been shy about the loud noises you made whenever he had his way with you. Even tried to stifle them. As if he would let you hide such beautiful sounds. He made sure to teach you that you could be yourself, as wild as you wished to be, in the bed you both shared.
When he felt your tight channel clenching around him, now he was the one who couldn’t keep from screaming. He spilled deep inside you rolling his hips to tease your clit.
He pulled your thigh over his hips, snuggling against your back. Gently palming and feeling your breasts and rolling his hips again to settle his soft cock in you in the right angle, to make sure he his seed stayed inside you. So he could be as close to you as he can. Feeling you, smelling you all around him.
You were his and he was yours. He would never let anyone or anything change that.
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#evnscvll3kchallenge#mob!steve rogers x reader#reader x steve rogers#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve x reader#steve x you#steve rogers reader insert#marvel au#chris evans x reader#avengers x oc#avengers x y/n#avengers x you#avengers x reader#marvel x reader
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Something I’d Get Used To
Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 3.4k
Request: anon “Hey could I get a 9 & 21 for nev with a fem reader please fluff/smutt! Thank you!! :)”
Summary: (Y/n) doesn’t do love, but whatever her and Neville have is something she can get used to
Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning but vast majority fluff!
A/N: Hey anon, I decided to go with fluff so I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you have just as much reading it!
9. “Love’s a word I always hated.”
21. “I’m smitten with you and everyone knows it.”
Love. A word that made (Y/n) sick to the very pit of her stomach, and Merlin’s knows not in a good way. (Y/n) was tired of the word love before she even knew what it meant. The word that held so much meaning. The word girls and boys alike waited sometimes their entire life to hear. She was sick of it. She had her parents to thank for that. Growing up, (Y/n)’s parents were always busy with work, leaving her with various different strangers referred to as “nannies”. At first she’d look forward to hearing the words, even reading them. “We love you dear, we’ll be home soon!” Each letter ended with this phrase. She remembered the long days that she’d sit by the front door, waiting for the owl to bring the letters to her. How she’d clutch them to her heart, cheering with glee as she’d read her to whichever nanny they had hired.
However, each time they’d leave they would go for longer and longer, the letters would grow shorter and shorter until eventually they became nonexistent. She felt uncared for, unloved. When her parents got older they started to stay home more opting to work from home. She could still recall the fated conversation that made her hated that stupid little four letter word.
(Y/n) was ecstatic but tried not to show it that much. She knew how much her parents disliked when she would outwardly express obscene amounts of emotion and yet she couldn’t help the smile that overtook her face when they invited her out for dinner. They felt bad for all the important holidays and birthdays they had missed and to make up for it, they decided to take her out for one last grand hoorah before her departure to Hogwarts.
“Mom, dad, can I ask you something?” she asked, playing with her fingers nervously. Although they were her parents, she always felt unsure of how to speak to them. The limited amount of time they had spent together were always cut short, leaving her parents to feel like distant strangers in her life. Her mom looked up from her phone, smiling at the girl.
“Of course dear, what is it?”
“I...I wanted to know why the letters stopped. You know, when you two would travel. You used to send me a postcard and a letter from whatever place you guys were at and eventually they just stopped coming.” She looked up at her parents, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. “Why is that?”
“Letters?” her father started off confused, looking up from his menu briefly before returning his eyes to it. “What lett-”
“Dear let’s stop. Did you want to order drinks too? I’ll get the waiter ov-”
“No mother, let him finish. Go on dad, what do you mean what letters? You guys used to send me them every time you left. How could you not know what letters?” she pleaded desperately, trying to find the answers in her parents eyes.
“Oh right! Those letters.” he said unamused. “Listen kid, you’re old enough now so I guess it’s time we tell you. We weren’t the ones writing those letters, it was your nannies. Do you really think we had the time out of our busy schedules to write you letters? Don’t be ridiculous.” he said, letting out a chuckle. “I don’t see how you didn’t notice that the handwriting was a bit different each time.” His eyes rose quickly from the small words on the menu at the sound of the menu being slammed on the table. (Y/n) stood there with hot angry tears in her eyes, glaring at her parents. No, it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. They loved her, right? People who love each other don’t lie, her mother had taught her that once. She rose from her spot in the booth, running out the restaurant despite the cries of protest for her to stay.
When she got home, she went into her room pulling the old box that she kept under her bed. She ripped the lid off, pouring the contents onto the bed. “No,” she croaked, tears beginning to form in her eyes again, “No, no, no. Come on. No come on!” she picked up the letters comparing the writing noticing how the writing didn’t match up. “Bullshit! This is bullshit! I can’t believe this!” she screamed, throwing herself on the bed. She sobbed herself to sleep, surrounded by the letters filled with lies. So much for love.
After that incident, (Y/n) opted for staying with her aunt. Her aunt was a few years older than her mom but due to the lax life she lived, she looked a lot younger. She was very grateful that her aunt took her in with such short notice, welcoming her with open arms. She’d write to her often, sending her letters of the adventures she was having at Hogwarts. She would always laugh at the bittersweet way her aunt would sign letters, “Lots of Love, Aunt Margie.”
“Oh come on! Please? It’s just one group date.” Hermione pleaded, chasing down the hallway after her friend. She sat down next to her on the common room couch, smiling at the (y/h/h) girl. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll even fall in l-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. That word makes me sick to my stomach.” she said, clutching at her stomach to add emphasis as she made gagging noises. “Love’s a word I’ve always hated.” Hermione looked at her friend sympathetically, patting her leg. Her and Hermione had been friends long before their years at Hogwarts. Her parents were colleagues of her parents but they had lower down positions.
“I know, I know. But you also know I wouldn’t put you with anyone I didn’t think was good enough to be with you. He’s a sweet guy! He loves tending to plants, he’s kind, funny. Sure he’s a little awkward and slouches a bit when he stands but he’s got his own bit of charm!” She said, watching as (Y/n) considered her words. She sighed looking at her.
“Is he at least cute?”
“I knew you’d come around!” Hermione exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her friend tightly. She pulled back, holding her hands in a comforting way. “It is at the end of the week. I decided to tell you ahead of time so on the off chance you’d agree, which you did, you’d have time to back out at any time if you decided you don’t want to go. Well,” she started as she stood up, gathering her things in her hand. “I’ve gotta get going! And to answer your question, I guess you’ll have to see for yourself.”
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(Y/n) snuck through the grass trying to make her way to the greenhouse. Well, as much you could sneak in panda slippers and a nightie. It was about three in the morning and no matter what, she couldn’t sleep. Most nights she had trouble sleeping but it was never this much. “Just my luck. First date I ever agree to and here I am in my fucking pajamas trying to sneak into the greenhouse for a plant that may or may not even be there.” she grumbled, holding her illuminated wand in front of her. She sighed in relief as she finally made her way into the greenhouse.
She found herself pondering whether it would’ve been simpler to just snag some chamomile from Snape’s room instead. “No, don’t be stupid. He would’ve definitely given me some awful punishment, or even worse, let Filch deal with me.” she shuddered at the thought. She looked around the crowded building, looking and searching for the plant. “What the fuck does a chamomile plant even look like?” she muttered. (Y/n) felt herself growing a bit irritated with herself. Years of living with her Aunt Margie had left her spoiled considering Aunt Margie hated tea bags, always opting for making her own blends. If only she had paid attention to her when she was teaching her about plants, that would make this process a whole lot easier.
“Chamomile, chamomile, chamomile. Eh, this looks close enough!” she reached for the pair of scissors in her pocket, leaning forward to cut it before a hand grabbed hers. She screamed, jumping back as she pointed the scissors at the intruder. “What are you doing?!” she questioned, looking up at the boy. He had a blue pajama set on along with a brown pair of moccasins. He quirked a brow, hazel eyes boring into her own.
“I could ask you the same thing. I come here every night and never see you here.” he shuffled awkwardly, taking the scissors from the girl’s grasp. “Did you need something?”
“I was just about to cut a bit of this chamomile here.” She said motioning to the plant. The boy began to laugh some, shaking his head as he walked across the greenhouse. “What’s so funny?”
“That,” he motioned to the plant that she was previously going to cut, “Is not chamomile. If you were looking for something to help with sleep you would’ve been very upset. That’s actually bouncing biltweed. Whoever drinks it, be it through a tea or potion, is left awake for HOURS. It’s a good alternative for coffee drinkers though.” she felt heat rise to her face as she looked away embarrassed, crossing her arms as she mumbled about how she already knew that.
“Why do you know so much about plants anyways. You say you come here every night, why is that?” she questioned, walking over to his side. She watched as he cut at the actual chamomile before walking to a purple plant and cutting some of that as well.
“I love plants. I always used to have this extra energy from how anxious I’d get, so I started tending and caring for plants. After herbology in first year I became hooked. They’re so fascinating.” He looked down at her, flushing slightly. “Usually I don’t come here this late but I couldn’t sleep either. I have something I’m really looking forward to tomorrow and I don’t wanna screw it up.” she nodded, giving him a noise of acknowledgement.
“Yeah, I’ve got something tomorrow to. I wouldn’t say I’m looking forward to it but I am quite concerned about how it’ll all play out.” she sighed, stretching as her eyes floated around the room. Her eyes landed on a kettle and a set of cups around the room. “Well since we’re both in the same boat, how bout we have a cup of tea together, yeah?” she asked, walking to the kettle as she looked back at the boy. She noticed how red he was but chose to ignore it as he gave her a nod.
Although she wasn’t usually a people person, she felt oddly comforted around the boy. He was a bit awkward but sweet nonetheless. (Y/n) hadn’t expected to run into him, let alone spend the next few hours laughing and talking to a guy who’s name she didn’t even know! After a while, their conversation dwindled down to nothing as the effects of the lavender and chamomile took over the both of them. The walked to the castle together before bidding each other goodbye, going their separate ways. She’d never admit it to herself, but she quite liked the boy. He seemed like someone she could be into.
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“Hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Hermione huffed, throwing herself onto (Y/n)’s bed as the girl got ready. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, adding a final coat of lip gloss on as she ignored the girl. “You know, for someone who was very reluctant to go on this date, you’re putting a lot of effort into your appearance. I think Neville will appreciate it though." She giggled as the girl began to sprits a light amount of perfume.
"Neville?” ah, so that’s what his name was. “And, if I'm going to be wasting my time then I might as well look good doing it. And besides, I'm ready!" She walked over to the mirror smiling at her appearance. She had on a mossy green oversized sweater totally not stolen from her father that was tucked into the overall shorts that she had cuffed around the legs. On her lower half she adorned a beat up pair of sneakers. She smiled, admiring herself before grabbing her brown leather satchel. Hermione stood next to her friend in the mirror, looking at her own appearance as she bit the inside of her cheek.
“Do you think I look alright?” she questioned, viewing herself from another angle. “Because, you know, I think I look wonderful but do you think Ro-”
“If Ron doesn’t think you look nice then I’ll give him a reason not to be able to see. You look wonderful! You’ve been looking forward to this all week, don’t go beating yourself up. Now,” she grabbed the girl’s hand as they began to head towards the door. “Let’s go show 'em what we’re made of.”
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The world had to be playing a joke on her. There was no other explanation for what was in front of her. No, it couldn’t be him. However, as they neared her suspicions were confirmed. As the others were all communicating, the boy(who she assumed to be Neville) stood awkwardly by himself, chiming in every so often. She could’ve been wrong but as he turned towards her, with rosy red cheeks and wide eyes, she knew most definitely it was him. “Hey! It’s you from last night. Are you Neville?” she questioned, standing in front of him. He had on a brown flannel, a black shirt under it which was untucked from his dark color jeans, quite a contrast from his cute little pajama set from the other night.
“Y-yeah I am! This is for you.” He said, holding out a beautiful hand picked bouquet before continuing, “I-I know it’s a weird combination but I thought it’d be a nice call back from the other night.” she smiled, looking down at the strange but welcome array of chamomile, lavender, and baby’s breath. How cu- thoughtful was that? Her brows shot up in realization.
“Wait, you knew?! Why didn’t you say something?” she exasperated, slapping his shoulder playfully before she threw back her head groaning. “I told you so many embarrassing stories last night.” she facepalmed, looking up at him as he began to laugh some.
“Thought it’d be a funny surprise. The look on your face was priceless!” He said, moving away as he laughed at her failed attempts to hit him. He looked around realizing their group had already gone. “It looks like everyone else already left. Let’s get going, yeah?” he said, holding his hand out to her. (Y/n) looked down at it hesitantly before taking his outstretched hand, goosebumps spreading across her body at the warm contact.
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As they arrived at the quaint little hole in the wall of a restaurant, they realized their small predicament. Hermione smiled, turning towards (Y/n). “Have I ever mentioned how much I lo- care about you?” she cooed sweetly, taking the girl’s (s/c) hands in her own. In return the girl narrowed her eyes looking at her.
“What happened? What do I need to do?” she questioned.
“Well it won’t necessarily be you who has to do something,” she walked back looking at her group of friends, “It appears there’s not enough seats for 5 sets of us so one couple is going to have to take a booth.” (Y/n) looked at her rolling her eyes.
“We’ll do it. Willingly too because if I have to see Harry look at Ginny like that one more time I honestly might end up puking. Come on Nev.” she said, grabbing the giant's hand, leading him to the booth in question. Neville felt his breath hitch and his face flush at the contact, turning to give his friends one last look.
“Don’t bore her to death with all your talk about weeds and plants! I don’t think any girl wants to hear that.” Seamus snickered out, walking away from his friend. However, (Y/n) didn’t hear him, looking up at Neville as she waited for him to sit down. She froze but shortly relaxed as he took a seat across from her instead of next to her.
“I hope we didn’t waste all our good topics yesterday!” she exclaimed looking over at him.
“Surely we haven’t. You know, you never told me what you like to do for fun. Do you have any hobbies?” he asked, looking over the menu as he waited for a response.
“Of course! I’m an artist. Wait a second, I brought my sketchbook, give me one second.” she said, digging into the brown bag that sat next to her. She pulled out a worn down leather notebook, sliding it across the table.
“You brought your sketchbook on a date?” he chuckled, watching as she looked away timidly. “I’m just teasing, love. Plus I knew you drew, I’ve seen you sketching sometime but I’ve never actually seen any of you work,” he flipped it open, gasping at the girl’s art, “But oh wow are you talented! I expected nothing less from you though.”
“To be fair, I brought the sketchbook before I knew it was you I was going on a date with. I thought I’d be stuck with someone boring and uninteresting,” she said, watching as he examined the pages, “But I guess I lucked out, huh?” Now it was Neville’s turn to feel taken. He flushed lightly before reaching over, grabbing her hand.
“Oh? Am I hearing this correctly? Am I being led to believe you’re enjoying your time on this date with me?”
“Don’t push your luck, Longbottom.”
The pair continued to talk, not a moment of silence falling upon them. It was going perfectly. Neville let her talk about her hobbies and equally enjoyed talking about his. Not once did either of the two get bored or stop talking...which couldn’t be said about their friend’s at the table across from them. The two began to giggle at the sight of the bored expressions on their faces. “Oh god, how awkward does that look?” she laughed out, watching as one of the girl’s visibly yawned at something Seamus said.
“And to think he tried to give me advice before this. Looks like it should’ve been the other way around.” He said, moving his eyes back to the girl. God she was gorgeous, he couldn’t help but think so. He let his eyes travel down the slope of her nose to the outline of her lips. He was absolutely enamoured by the girl, and had been for a few months. He could never get the words right to say to her and from what he had heard from other guys who confessed, he didn’t think he wanted to. He jumped out of his thoughts as the girl’s face was extremely close to his. (Y/n) began to laugh, sitting back down in her seat.
“T-the look on your face! Oh that was priceless. You practically jumped out of your pants!” she laughed harder, snorting as she bang her fist on the table. After a few seconds, she looked over at the taller boy tilting her head in confusion at his lack of words. “Neville, are you alright?” her eyes looked down as he gripped her hand in his own.
“Listen (Y/n) I know you don’t do love but I just need to say this. I...I like you. I’m absolutely entranced by every part of you and it did start out as physically, I’ll admit but it wouldn’t feel right having you be the only one who didn’t know. I’m smitten with you and everyone knows it.” he spoke softly, looking down at his empty plate on the table. His face flushed as she tilted his head to face her, his expression filled with confusion.
“You’re right. I don’t do love. However,” she tightened her grasp on his hand stroking his cheek, “I think we have the potential to have far more than that. Something greater than lo-love.” Neville’s face was overtaken in shock at the girl’s revelation. (Y/n) smiled before leaning over and leaving a kiss on his cheek.
She may not be the type to do love, but this was definitely something she could get used to.
#neville longbottom x reader#neville x you#neville x reader#neville longbottom x y/n#neville x y/n#harry potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines#neville longbottom imagine
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Haunted
Chapter 2- Ghosts Are Real And They Are Jerks
Warning for talks of dying, drinking and swearing. Let me know if I missed anything!
When Virgil wakes up he finds Remus and Janus organizing the kitchenware.
“Remus, we have a knife block for a reason.” Janus hands it to him, as he’s placing knives on the counter.
“Boo…” He pouts, putting them away properly.
“Hey.” Virgil says.
“Oh, good…” Janus checks his phone. “... afternoon, Virge.”
“Good to see this place is already feeling like home to you.”
Virgil laughs slightly. “Eh, actually I couldn’t sleep well last night.”
“Really? What was the problem?”
“There were these noises from the halls.”
“What was it?”
“Ooh! Was it a racoon?”
“Well, I checked but there wasn’t anything there.”
Janus hums. “So do you think it was the ghosts?”
Virgil chuckles. “Yeah, maybe.” He looks over to see Remus putting things in the cupboard. “Hey, don’t put things in places where only you can reach it!” Remus responds by sticking his tongue out at him.
The three of them part ways, Virgil going back up to his room and the other two heading out. He sets out some of his things and decorations.
He places his fake tarantula on one of his shelves and takes out his phone, reviewing different colors to paint the walls. Though after a few minutes he hears something fall. Looking up, he sees that it was his tarantula, knocked off the shelf.
“What the…?” He gets up and places it back, only for it to be knocked off again. He puts it back, and again, it falls. “Fuck it.” He sighs and goes downstairs. The floorboards creaking doesn’t help his headache. He gets to the kitchen and opens the fridge. “Come on, one of them has to have gotten some… yes!” He finds a bottle of wine. Not necessarily his tastes but he isn’t gonna complain.
He opens up the cupboard, finding the glasses he’s looking for on the top shelf. “That asshole…” He mutters as he reaches up for it. “Remus you beanpole of a person.” He’s about to climb on the counter when he feels a glass fall gently into his hand. After a moment of staring at it he sighs. “Thanks.”
When Janus gets home he finds Virgil downing a glass, refilling it, and repeat.
“Isn’t it a bit early for that?”
“Is it?”
Janus checks the time, it’s about 5:20, and shrugs. “Well, what happened?”
“The… the fucking ghosts… the ghosts kept knocking my tarantula off the shelf…” He grumbles.
Janus hums. “Well, running around at night and knocking things over, one might almost assume we’re being haunted by cats.” He chuckles.
“Though they did get this cup off the top shelf for me, because someone put it where no one else could reach it!”
“Remus isn’t here, you don’t have to passive aggressively complain.”
“Yeah…” On that note, Virgil lays his head on the table and falls asleep. Janus sighs and goes to pick him up. With some struggle, he brings him to his room. He then puts away the glass and wine, grabs a book and sits down.
After a while, Janus hears someone walking behind him. Given that he didn’t hear the front door open and they haven’t said anything, he guesses it’s Virgil.
“Hey Virge? Could you hand me something to use as a bookmark?” He’s handed a receipt. “Thank you.” He turns and sees no one there. “Well then.”
Then he hears Virgil stumble down the stairs and into the room. “Holy shit Jan, I can teleport.”
“You’re drunk, Virgil, go back to bed.”
“No!”
Remus bursts through the front door, startling both of them and causing Virgil to fall over.
“Alright, it took awhile but I found some!” He grabs a small box out of a grocery bag.
“Whazzat?” Virgil asks.
“Soap that won’t agitate my skin.” When he was at the shop, the box fell off the shelf. He glances down at him. “Are you drunk?”
“Yeah.”
“The ghosts were bothering him.”
“So we really have ghosts?” He bounces on the balls of his feet.
“Mayhaps. Help me get him back to his room.”
“You know,” The two pick up Virgil. “You guys are great.”
“Thanks, Virge.”
“Great great friends.”
“How much did he drink?”
“Most of the bottle.”
They carry Virgil as he sings the Friends theme song off-pitch.
“Alright, Virge, back to bed.”
They close the door behind them, muffling Virgil’s singing, having moved to another song.
“And if you threw a partyyyy… and invited everyone you kneeeew… you would see, the biggest gift would be from me and… and…”
“And the card attached would say…”
“Right, thank you for being a freeeeeind!”
He hears a small giggle, but he’s too drunk to really care.
Meanwhile Janus and Remus sit at the table.
“So the house is haunted?!”
“Well, maybe.”
“Cool! When do you think the ghosts will start trying to kill and maim us?!”
“Well, based on my previous guess we have two more days.”
“Yes!” Remus pumps his fists. “Who do you think they’ll go after first?”
“Well seeing how things have been going so far probably Virgil.”
“Maybe it’ll be like The Shining and they’ll try to get him to kill us?”
“Wasn’t it Danny who saw supernatural stuff first?”
“Maybe, but he is drunk right now.”
“Guess so.”
“You think they’re listening right now?”
“Maybe. The only other thing they could be watching right now is Virgil singing…”
“When you’re lost out there, and you’re all alone, a light is waiting to carry you home!”
“... the Full House song.”
“What kind of ghosts do you think there are?”
“A professor from the 60’s and a college student from the 90’s.”
“Wow, that’s really specific.”
“Yeah, they died here. That’s why the place was so cheap.”
“Cool!”
“Yep.”
Remus hops on his feet. “Whoo!”
“Alright, Remus, I’m gonna turn in for the day.”
“Nighty-night, Jan-Jan!”
Janus closes the door gently behind him and sits at his desk. He pulls out his phone and looks something up.
The owners who died there. Professor Williams died having fallen down the stairs and landing head first. He died instantly.
Mr. Harper fell through the rotting floorboards from the second floor. The fall knocked him unconscious and the wood had cut him up. When neighbors found him he was wavering in and out of consciousness. By the time ambulances showed up he was already gone.
Janus doesn’t worry about the second one happening again; the floorboards seem to have been replaced and even if they were still rotting there are three of them living there.
He is, however, somewhat worried about the first one, as just yesterday Remus jumped down the stairs, though he only left with bruises and Virgil is very vigilant.
Meanwhile Remus is still downstairs, taunting the ghosts.
“Come on! Come and get me! I’m all alone at night!”
“Remus…”
He looks around. “Finally!”
“Remus, please…”
“Please what? I can please many things.”
“... shut up…”
“Well that’s rude!”
#ts sanders sides#sanders sides#virgil sanders#sanders sides deceit#remus sanders#janus sanders#sanders sides fic
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The Game P10 I’ll be You’re Teddy Bear
TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT
COUPLE: BENNY X READER
RATING: CUTE
I smiled as I got cosy up in Benny's bed. It was very warm and soft while Benny got himself sorted on a little makeshift bed on the floor beside the bed. Everyone else was already fast asleep.
"You cosy?' he asks and I nodded "okay, see you in the morning, goodnight y/n"
"Goodnight Benny" I smiled moving to tip my head off the bed and give him a little kiss which he happily returned. He turned off the light and I turned over trying to sleep
"Goodnight…"
"Goodnight Benny"
"Goodnight my sweet girlfriend"
"Goodnight Benny' I giggled, I sat for a while trying to sleep but I couldn't in my haste of grabbing things I forgot my bear and I still can't sleep without him, I tossed and turned a while unable to turn off my brain
"Y/n? Are you okay?' Benny asks and even in the dark I could see he had sat his chin on the mattress to look at me
"I can't sleep"
'why not?" He asks
"I forgot my bear"
"Ohh no, I could try and run down to yours sneak in your window and get him for you," he suggested
"No, it's late, it doesn't matter'
"Y/n of course it matters, uhh here" he says I was confused but then I felt my covers moving and a skinny figure lay down beside me his face inches from my own "hi"
"Hi" I giggled "what are we doing?" I Whispered
"I'll be your teddy bear" he smiled
"What?"
"I'll be your bear, you can cosy up to me" he says moving me a little so I rested my head on his soft shirt and warm chest "aren't I just as warm and cuddly as your teddy bear?"
"You are Benny" I smiled wrapping my arms around him like I would my bear he was actually softer and cosier and he was so warm I wanted to nuzzle close and never let him go "goodnight" I yawned
"Goodnight" he smiled, kissing my head.
When I woke up the sunlight was shining through the window around the curtains, the bed warm and cosy, my head nuzzled I to benny's chest and his soft t-shirt, his head nuzzled close to my own his hair all out of place his face emotionless, my arms around his chest and his around me too resting lazily over my waist one hand high on my back, my nightie close to me and benny's shorts barely concealing him at all, somehow in the night I had moved my leg around him too his other hand resting gently and tenderly on my thigh his feet around my ankle almost holding me so I couldn't move away without him knowing about it I stirred a little on his chest which caused him too a little
"Uummmm good morning" I smiled my voice hushed in my tried tone
"Good morning" he whispered his voice raspy and strange were he hadn't spoke all night
"Your nice to cuddle with' I smiled
"Thank you, your very lovely to cuddle with too" he says "uumm, I don't wanna sleep any other way for the rest of my life"
"What are you talking about Benny?'
"I wanna sleep like this, with you, every night for the rest of my life. I don't ever wanna let you go"
"Aww Benny that's so sweet" I smiled "you have to let go off me at some point, you can't play chess with me snuggled on you"
"I'll find a way"
"I never imagined you'd be so cuddly Benny"
"Umm well your cosy, and maybe i'm a little touch starved"
"A little?"
"Okay a lot. Can you blame me for wanting lots of cuddles and kisses? When I have such a beautiful girlfriend?"
"Hhuuuuuuu!! Benny has a girlfriend!" We heard a little voice giggle at the door and we turned to see Lilly and a couple of the other children looking at us
"Uuuuhhh… you kids stay quiet and I will buy you candy" he told them as he sat up
"How much candy?" One asks
"I shall buy you each a lollipop a week if this is not mentioned to maggie"
"What are we allowed to say?" Another asks
"You may mention y/n, however you may not mention the G word. Or anything you see us doing"
"Okay," they giggled before they ran off and he sighed laying back in bed
"Now… where were we?" He smirked trying to kiss me but
"Maggie!! We heard Benny kissing y/n!" The children yelled
"What the they-"
"You didn't say they could mention hearing anything" I giggled
"Ohh fuck I'm dead," he sighed
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Lucky Dog. (Secret Satan Gift for Ness)
Hi @bitterarttrees, I was your secret Satan! I hope you enjoy your gift!
If there was anything it took to survive the decrepit state of the former animation studio, it was sheer luck. However, for our canine companion, it seemed like something he didn’t have at the moment. First, his arm gets sawed off by some nutcase when he had tried to gather the spoils from the menace’s past victims, but now he has to deal with these three loons.
“Thief!”
Cried the lost one as she swung her hammer down, only narrowly missing Tom’s head. The man had gotten himself caught up in a supply run gone wrong, he had known that the suspiciously close together pile of supplies was gathered by someone else, but as they seemed untouched and nobody was around them, he assumed that whoever gathered was long gone and he couldn’t just go back empty handed.
“Murderer!”
Cried her companion as it threw its axe down by his feet, missing its target. If he wasn’t currently clutching the bleeding stump that used to be his other arm, he would’ve happily grabbed it and used it against the frenzied mob. But as of right now, all he could do was run.
“Betrayer!”
Cried a third lost one who wielded what looked like some sort of giant pitchfork, not that he would’ve stayed to find out what it really was.
“Face punishment for your sins, you wretched beast!”
All three of them cried out in unison as he sped down the hall and ducted into the air vents, slamming them closed behind him and blocking it with his lantern and whatever else he could find to keep them out before army-crawling away from the vent’s opening as fast as he could. However, this didn’t stop them from calling out after him as he fled.
“If we don’t get you, the dogcatcher will!”
“We’ll tell! And you’ll get what you deserve!”
“You’re dead meat!”
“I can survive this, I just need to get back to the safe house and wait for Allison to get back...”
He thought to himself as he powered through his pain and exhaustion.
“I just have to find... my way back…”
Fuck.
He didn’t know where in the studio he was! He rarely went through the vents and doubted he’d ever use them again after this, crawling through them with only one arm and stopping to cover the think and thin ink coming out of the stump every few minutes was really fucking uncomfortable.
Not to mention, it was a pain to navigate the maze without a light, he kept bumping his snout into the metal walls and often ended up having to shimmy himself out of dead ends that he didn’t see. He almost cursed himself for abandoning his own light source.
Almost, he’d still take this annoying nonsense over whatever those lost ones would do to him any day of the week. Thank goodness he got away from them in time and didn’t have to worry about them or-
*BRRRRRRRRMMMMMM!!!* *BRRRRRRRMMMMM!!!* *Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr*
“Oh Coooooooonneeeeeeer, weeeeee knooooooow yoooooooou’re hiiiiiiiiding in hereeee…”
“Speak of the fucking devil…”
He jinxed it. Of course he jinxed it, today just wasn’t his day, was it?
He didn’t recognise the airy, sing-song voice of the person outside the air vents, but if the sound of a chainsaw revving was anything for him to go by, whoever it was was not friendly.
“Coooooooome oooooooooon oooouuuuuuut Tommy~ You wouldn’t want to make me ANGRY, would you? Why don’t you just come out so we can taaaaaaalk~”
Tom huffed in annoyance within the safety of the air vent maze, not amused by the person’s pouty tone.
“Found you.”
In hindsight, maybe he should’ve just stayed still until the chainsaw-wielding foe left the area.
*BRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZ* *BRRRRRRRRRZZZZZZZZZ*
“YAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!!!”
Tom’s pursuer cackled maniacally as his chainsaw began to cut into the vents themselves. Naturally, he didn’t stick around to see the business end of the Dogcatcher’s weapon, but he was running out of places to run, running out of hope, and worst of all, running out of ink, if his wounded stump was anything to go by.
And the pursuer knew this.
“Nighty night Conner!”
The smiling silhouette of the chainsaw-wielding maniac happily chimed as everything faded to black.
No, it couldn’t end like this! It just couldn’t! He couldn’t just leave Allison alone by herself in this hell hole! Even if neither of them could escape, there were still so many reasons why he had to stay! He never had the chance to tell Allison how much he loved her! Or the chance to tell her what-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
…
....
……..
…
It was the smell of hot bacon soup that woke him up.
Not the regular bacon soup that was basically just the canned crap heated up oh no, the smell of this soup had a distinctly different smell. It had hints of added fish, plants, and assorted mushrooms that made the stuff that he and Allison were normally sick of more palatable.
Tom rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, waking up to find that he was back in his bed and that his bleeding stump was bandaged up, along with a wound on his chest he had gotten when that chainsaw-wielding motherfucker had him.
Allison must’ve found him before...
He sat up from his bed, ignoring the burning pain from his ribs that would otherwise force him to sit back down. There was a bowl of fresh soup by his bedside, but in spite of his growling stomach, he ignored it. He staggered awkwardly as he looked around, but thankfully, he didn’t have to look very far to find her.
“Tom! What are you doing?! You clearly need to rest!”
The wolf nodded, but instead of going back to bed, he wrapped his arm and his stump around her.
“Tom?”
“I Love you, you mean so much to me, you deserve the best, I wish I could give it all to you-”
As the wolf kept speaking, tears poured down his face and muzzle, either he didn’t notice this, or he did and just didn’t care.
The false angel hugged him back.
“It’s okay Tom... You’re okay... I’m here...”
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Not On My Watch - part 3
Pairing: dad!roger x mum!reader
note: I'm so excited for this specific part, bet you're too. As I said, pardon my poor English, i don't speak them like a native :( there will be part 4! Thanks for your feedback!
summary: you’re divorced with queen’s roger taylor due to constant cheating and irrational behaviour towards you. but u have one person in common: your daughter, Laura aka your favourite human on earth. Your marriage with roger had its ups and downs but laura was the happiness in it. Now that she’s 8 and starts to realise how your terms with roger are, you finally tell her that you’re seeing another man except her father and she took it really warmly. She seemed excited to meet the new man unlikely your ex husband who accidentally learns about it by Laura, the weekend you would leave her at his place: on weekends you had some cute getaways with R/N because court decided that Laura could stay or visit her dad on weekends and stay with him for five days each Christmas and easter vacations. On summers he has the right to be with her for two weeks.
warnings: penetrating sex [dom!roger, sub!reader], angst, violence, fluff
words: 2,600
dialogue prompts // masterlist //
part one // part two
taglist: @madeinheavxn @stacymaytaylor @namelesslosers
Roger laid on top of you, his hand resting next to your head and his eyes focused on yours. His eye colour got darker and his irises dilated. Your hands unbuttoned his white suit, the second your lips found his and by now his suit was lying on the floor.
His hands attempted taking off your tiny nighty, revealing your curves, your pretty thighs, your breasts and your underwear. His knee was gently rubbing your private area while staring at your soul. With fast moves, you removed his belt and finally unzipped his jeans in which his boner was trying to hide.
His lips found yours again, asking for a deeper entrance. His tongue fighting yours, feeling every inch of his oral cavity. His palm was placed on your cheek, moving to your neck, later to your breast, massaging it slowly and later it found your hip, squeezing it hard, showing how much he loves your curves.
There was no guilt in you, neither shame. You were giving your heart and your body to the man who broke your heart the most. But there's still love in it. You loved him to pieces, you dated another man trying to replace his presence but nothing was working. You wanted him and only him. It's a fact you slept with R/N but you didn't feel the same way you feel with Roger. He makes it all about you. He makes sure you feel comfortable, safe and able to come. Well, R/Y would only do it to satisfy himself. You do call Roger a selfish man but on sex, he's not.
"Should we go on?" He tried to make sure you wouldn't regret it. You didn't answer, you just nodded allowing him to continue. "We just have to be quiet. If Laura hears a noise we're fucked." He leaned in your face, to give you a gentle kiss on the lips.
"Literally." You giggled.
You could see his cock's silhouette around his tight underwear. You were so ready and excited to feel it again inside you. "Babe, don't move. I'll make it all about you." He gently whispered and by then he took it off, staying naked in front of you. You rushed taking yours off but he stopped you. "I'll do it." He stated and laid between your legs playing around after removing the fabric.
"Ah Roger you better start or I'll come before we even-" it was pretty obvious you were rushing for the good one.
"Shh... Spread your legs wider baby." He was at his earlier position now, waiting for you to follow his order. "Are you okay?" He asked as if it's your first time ever and that's cute. "Can I continue?"
"Yeah." You nodded again because your voice couldn't be heard due to your heart beating fast. There was a moment you laughed and he noticed that.
"What is it, love?" He questioned and smiled at your cute reaction.
"Nothing, I'm just nervous." You laughed again. How can you be nervous to him? He knows your body, you know his. You have had sex with him in the past.
"Calm down, I've got this." His hand rested on your palm and he prepared himself for the best. His penis was slowly inserting into your vagina, his moves were smooth and steady. It was all so romantic. You both never lost eye contact. Meanwhile, there were soft gentle kisses and quiet moans. "You're so tight for me, just what I want." He said between his moans and his hand moved a few of your hair behind your ear.
"Roger I love you." You whined between his thrusts which got harder and deeper, filling you up entirely.
"I love you too Y/N." He whispered to your ear before biting your lobe.
You were about to reach your climax. Your free hand attempted going down at your area but Roger lifted it up, now holding both of your hands. "But, Rog, I'm going to -" you tried to speak but he stopped you.
"Same. Let me do it." He answered and his hand travelled to your folds, rubbing your clit at the rhythm he was moving. His thrusts got sudden and deep. He was coming too. Your soft moans sounded like a whimper and he enjoyed listening to that sound. Opposed to you, his voice was deep and raspy and each final thrust was coming with a sudden moan of him. "Ah fuck. Oh, God." He got out of you and laid next to you trying to catch his breath.
You didn't say a word after coming with him. You needed some energy to gather to talk again. You turned around, facing your nightstand where the frame is displayed until your eyes closed. There wasn't talking after sex, not even a cigarette, but his arm wrapped around your waist and his head resting on your collarbone. "Goodnight..." you heard him whisper in your ear.
"Night..." you said back.
Next morning
It was 7:00. You were supposed to wake up and prepare Laura for school but a sleepy Roger moved his muscles next to you, placing his hand on your arm giving a soft kiss at your neck. "I'll do it. Go back to sleep." You groaned and closed your eyes again.
A couple of hours had passed until you fully opened your eyes. It took you a while to realise what really happened last night. You slept with your ex-husband and the worst is you liked it more than ever. R/N could never be as caring as him. He wouldn't make it all about you. It was just for satisfying his and your needs. There was no emotion in the meanwhile.
Without any other morning thoughts, you got out of bed, entirely naked. Fuck you thought. He left some marks at your neck probably trying to mark his territory. The problem is how are you going to keep it a secret. If R/N sees it, you'll be out of false excuses.
You got dressed up, wearing your jeans and a simple shirt. As you opened the door you walked through the bathroom to wash your teeth and your face.
It took you a while to get out of there. A strange feeling of shame and regret took over. You suddenly felt it shouldn't have happened. What about R/N? What's going to happen now? You didn't know if Roger was in the house or not until you heard footsteps coming closer to the bathroom.
"Y/N, are you still in there?" Roger's voice was gentle and smooth as he knocked on the door.
"Y-yes, I'm not ready." You lied. You were just sitting at the toilet's cap waiting for him to leave.
"Okay, I'll be in the living room." He answered knowing already that something was wrong.
You said nothing until he vanished from the hall so you could finally let your tears fall. A weird sensation of throwing up immediately found you at the toilet. You felt dizzy, nervous and scared. Unfortunately, your sounds could be heard outside so Roger rushed in the bathroom. "Y/N, what's happening?"
"Fucking get out!" You shouted, hiding your face.
"Are you alright? Can I help you?" He offered his help but you refused.
"I said get out!" You pushed him back at his attempt trying to approach you.
He didn't say a word and left you alone. He knew something was going wrong. He was scared you'd regret it and somehow you're trying to avoid him. Ten minutes later, you got yourself together and got out. "Roger?" You asked searching for his figure in the room. At your surprise, you found him nowhere. You felt relieved of his absence. You needed to be alone. You walked through your kitchen to drink some water. But Roger left you a note at the counter: "When you feel better, come at my place. We need to talk. I'll go pick Laura up from school. Rog"
You felt bad for not telling him a word. It's not that you didn't want it last night, but it was guilt that made you believe it shouldn't have happened. However, it should have happened. You just didn't know.
A little later, your bell was ringing. You thought it was Roger but the vibe was so negative, it wouldn't be him. "Who's this?" You questioned.
"Y/N open up!" It was R/N. He sounded angry. You were scared, you've been feeling terrible all day. You didn't know what to do. You panicked. You didn't know what to do. To not seem weird and guilty like you have been feeling all day you made the mistake to open the door.
"R/N what's wr-" you didn't finish your line and his huge palm found your cheek, turning it to burning red. "What the fuck are you doing? Are you serious?" You screamed, feeling your cheek burning. He closed the door behind him, approaching you dangerously. You stood on your feet again trying to defend yourself.
"You're a whore, this is what you are!" He yelled pointing at you as you were slowly moving backwards to the kitchen.
"What are you talking about! What has gotten into you!?" You shouted again but he slapped you at the other cheek, "FUCK OFF." You were probably heard to the next block as he threw you to the floor.
"You have no excuses, I know he stayed here last night!" This time he tried to kick you at your stomach but your legs prevented him from it. You were in pain you had to get the hell out of there.
"He stayed with Laura! I was alone, I swear!" You lied. You felt unhelpful at that moment, you thought he could kill you at any moment. You had to guess last night that he would spy you but he never showed signs of pathetic dependency.
"He stayed in your house! That's what matters! This is why you didn't let me stay here yesterday!" He picked you up from the floor to face you. Or to beat you. But it helped you to find any possible kitchen item to hit him.
"He's her father and he had every right to stay here!" You made no sense after everything you have told him. You used to customize Roger with every negative adjective but now, after doing what you did with him, here you are defending him. He would never raise a hand on you. Never. Period.
"You fucking fucked him! I don't believe shit from you! I'm about to give you a lesson!" He shouted again. This time he was about to slap you for good but your reflexes noticed to the back a washed pan. Without a second thought, you hit him with that on his head, leaving him barely unconscious on the floor. "Bitch... I'll come at you.." he tried to gain his senses but a possible concussion kept him right there.
You immediately grabbed your keys and left your apartment. You didn't give a damn if he finds any proof you had sex with Roger, it's obvious now he's so pathetic to find any possible clue. Even the sheets will be suspicious to him. He will even find the photo album you scrolled through at your parlour. "Fuck fuck fuck. What was I thinking?" You told yourself as you were driving to Roger's place.
It didn't take long, you arrived fastly at his place, wandering for a place to hide. His hug
"Roger!" You screamed as you rushed to his mansion's stairs, so he'd quickly open the door. "Roger, open up!!" You were scared that R/N would appear from any corner. The worst is that he knows where you're hiding now.
Roger opened the door in a hurry, staring at you shocked and frightened by your voice. "Y/N what happened!?" He asked concerned.
You didn't say a word, you just got into his arms, pushing him inside his house and closing the door behind you. You both sat on the floor, you were in his arms, crying and trembling from terror but you felt safe. His hands were rubbing your back with affection. "H- he hit me." You finally said after sobbing. His eyes tried to track any visible sign but the palm marks on your cheek said enough to him, driving him mad.
"He what?" He narrowed his eyebrows.
"He knows about us. He spied me last night. He saw you coming upstairs and you not leaving proved him right. I'm such an idiot." You cried out to his shoulder but he was too focused on you being physically healed.
"Did he do anything else?" He asked scared you could be sexually abused.
"No, I hit him and left like a thief... I don't know, he might still be at home!" You sputtered.
"You're at my home now. He won't do anything to you now. You'll sue him, that's what you're gonna do. Come with me now..." he gently picked you up and slowly walked upstairs. "I'll take care of you, like the old times." He smiled at you and your sobbing immediately vanished.
He was so protective of you, he was carefully taking your clothes off while the bath was filled with hot water, soap, and whatever you needed. Anything to calm you down. "You can get in now, babe." He kissed your shoulder and helped you place yourself in the bath. You closed your eyes, enjoying the warm water and his eyes on you.
"Do you want me to leave or stay?" He asked.
"Stay." You said with your eyes closed and your hand trying to find his. "Roger, I'm sorry for acting weird earlier. I was just feeling overwhelmed by the situation.." you apologised.
"Save it baby, I understand. I'm glad you're here now, even under those circumstances." He acknowledged the situation.
"This is such a butterfly effect, Rog." You jested.
"Our entire marriage was a butterfly effect. Where do I start?" He joked and kissed your hand.
"If I talked to you in the morning you would probably come back and R/N wouldn't appear and at the end, he wouldn't have beat me." Well, as you said it, you thought that everything does happen for a reason. Even that. Maybe a situation such as made you choose faster. Either him or Roger. It was always Roger.
"I'll beat his ass, remind me that the next time I see him." He exaggerated but you don't blame him.
"He doesn't worth your time." You refused and looked at him.
"Neither your tears." Oh god, that was deep. That got seriously your attention. "I mean you cried enough for me and I didn't deserve your tears too but you were supposed to be with a man who makes you happy." He explained and by now you knew how lucky you were to be with him again.
"Roger, did you memorize that?" You laughed in awe and stared at him like the first time.
"Of course not. I love you." He leaned in closer to you, probably asking for a kiss. You gave it to him, feeling calm after what happened earlier.
"I love you too." You answered. "But I think it's time to pick Laura up." You added and he checked the time.
"Oh you're right, I should get going. I'll be back!" He stood up, kissed you and left you on your own to enjoy the rest of your bath.
He's now trying the best to gain you back. He deserves it, doesn't he?
#roger taylor#Roger Meddows Taylor#roger taylor imagine#roger taylor x reader#roger taylor x Y/N#roger taylor x female reader#queen band#freddie mercury#john deacon#brian may#smut-prompts#roger taylor smut#queen
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Chapter Four: Mission Hills - Part Two
Would You Call That Love
Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC)
Rating: PG to PG-13 (Might be 18+ for some chapters)
Description: There was always that one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to openly communicate with one another, but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation. However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either are willing to pursue something more?
Chapter Rating: 18+
Warnings: Sexual content (oral with female receiving)
Word Count: 2,934
Author’s Note: We are still in 2014. It dives deeper into Chris and Raina’s friendship and how it became sexual. The next chapter we will return to the present time. This was partially proof-read.
Feedback is always welcomed. If you want to be tagged, please let me know.
Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans or anyone in his family and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.
Updated for grammar and punctuation edits.
As Raina had expected, sex with Chris was amazing. He knew exactly what to do when it came to pleasuring a woman. The fact that he could go back and forth between being soft and sensual to dominating and rough was mind-blowing. Raina was sure she had blacked out a couple of times because the orgasms were so intense. For Chris, he could not remember the last time he came so hard. He made sure to give it his all when it came to giving Raina pleasure. He was not going to half-ass anything.
The two were in post-coital bliss—however, both knew that it would not be able to last. Neither wanted to leave the bubble they created and enter the real world. The world where they had to be mindful of how they acted around each other. The world where they were always expected to keep their guard up and be cautious. The world where everything came down to PR and playing a role the media and fans tacked them.
“I don’t want this to end,” Chris spoke up suddenly.
Raina turned her head, so she was looking at him. “What do you mean?”
Turning on his side, Chris stared at the woman next to him. He loved her. He genuinely loved her. “This has been incredible. Part of me doesn’t want it to be a one-time thing. But the sensible part of me is scared that this might ruin our friendship.”
“It isn’t,” Raina confirmed to help put Chris at ease. She could tell his anxiety was trying to take control and make him feel guilty. “Nothing is going to come between us, Chris. Us having sex…well, I don’t know about you, but it felt natural. It felt right. There was no awkwardness. I felt safe and relaxed with you. I don’t want this to end either. However, I don’t think either of us is ready to be in a relationship. You just got out of your relationship with Minka. My breakup with Ben wasn’t that long ago either. We’re too fragile right now. Plus, after today, we both have to go back to work. We won’t have the proper foundation to really build a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship.”
“I know. You’re right. So, what do we do?”
At that moment, the two friends came up with a plan to forge ahead with a friend with benefits relationship. Both knew it was risky. However, Chris and Raina were willing to take on that risk.
“We will have to establish some guidelines to follow. I am not going into this without any security. For example, never being judgmental can one of the guidelines, along with being open with communication,” Raina suggested. “We don’t have to have everything sorted out now. I think it would best to take this slow and make sure we have everything needed in place before we officially go forward with this notion.”
“I concur,” Chris agreed.
“What time is it?”
Chris turned to check his phone. “A little after 3 a.m. Do you think everyone is still out partying?”
“Knowing this crew, probably,” said Raina as she got out of bed and put on a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. “I’m going to go check if Mercedes is in her room.”
When Raina left the room, Chris proceeded to look through his phone. A couple of new posts in the group text with his Avenger coworkers; all wished him a happy birthday. He replied with a quick thank you and told them he would see them all soon.
“Her room and Tara’s room are still empty,” Raina shared as she entered the room. Looking around, she saw Chris’s clothes scattered all over the floor. “I think you should head out before they see you. I don’t…I don’t want them to know that we…I want to keep this between us.”
Chris sat up to lean his back against the headboard. He understood where Raina was coming from. “I hear ya. Don’t worry; I won’t tell Scott about tonight. I can picture him freaking out and giving me a lecture,” said Chris getting out of bed to put on his clothes.
When he was dressed, he followed Raina out of the room and to the front door.
“What time do we need to meet up for Top Golf?” asked Chris as he leaned against the front door.
“Our reservation is at noon,” Raina reminded him. She pulled Chris in for one last hug and said, “Happy Birthday, Chris. I hope that tonight was special for you. And I mean the whole night, not just the part where we…you know.”
“Well, that part might be my favorite,” Chris declared with a cheeky grin and gave Raina a soft kiss on the lips.
“Sleep tight, Evans.”
“Nighty night, Raina.”
October 18, 2014
Four months had passed since Chris’s birthday party in Vegas. It was also the last time Chris and Raina were intimate with one another. Chris had finished filming the second Avengers movie back in August and took some time off to spend with his family. Raina was still touring around the world with her new album. After finishing up the European leg of the tour, she was in for a much-needed break.
Before Chris and Raina were to head to China for the Mission Hill Pro-Am Golf Tournament, the singer would spend some time in Boston with Chris and his family. He picked Raina up at the airport that Saturday and headed to his mom’s house for dinner.
“Is your mom making her spaghetti? I have been craven it so bad, you would not believe,” said Raina as Chris drove from the airport.
“Yeah, she’s got it all ready. How are you craving it? You were just in Italy?” Chris pointed out.
“Your mom’s spaghetti is just better,” declared Raina.
“That is true.”
The drive from the airport to Lisa’s house did not take too long due to the abundance of conversations between the two friends occupying their time. Chris shared his experience at the Toronto Film Festival, where he debuted his first directorial feature film, ‘Before We Go.’ “I know my movie isn’t perfect, but I am happy with the final product. The film is supposed to be simplistic and about these two characters forming a friendship throughout the film. I…I get scared that people are going to have these high expectations and get disappointed if it doesn’t live up to them,” Chris admitted to Raina.
Raina let out a quiet sigh. She knew Chris would display his anxiety about the film. He was a perfectionist and, like most people, cared about what people thought of him and his art.
“Chris… you’re going to have so many opportunities to show the world what you can do. You put yourself out there and stepped out of your comfort zone. Not a lot of people are willing to do that, but you did. So, stop worrying so much. Don’t read the reviews from critics. They don’t matter. All that matters is if you are happy with the end product.”
“I am! I worked fucking hard on that film. Everyone did. And I am proud of it,” said Chris as he pulled into the driveway of his mother’s house.
“Then that is all that matters,” Raina replied as she got out of the car with Chris following. “Like, seriously, if I stressed over every album review or placement on the charts, I’d never get anything accomplished.
When Raina stepped to the front door, it flew open with Lisa standing with her arms wide open ready to embrace the younger woman and her eldest son.
“My babies!” exclaimed Lisa. She wrapped her arms around Raina in a tight hug. “Come on inside. Everyone is in the kitchen. Kids! Chris and Raina are here!”
They could hear the sound of Miles and Ethan’s footsteps as the boys ran from the kitchen and tackled Chris to the ground. “Okay, okay. You gotta let me up, kiddos. Go tackle Raina,” Chris ordered.
Ethan ran towards Raina for a hug. “Oh, my goodness. What happened to my little Ethan? You’re so big now,” she acknowledged as she scooped Ethan up into her arms.
“Did you bring us presents, Auntie Rai?” Ethan boldly asked as she sat him down to then pick up Miles
“Presents? Is that all I’m good for you guys?” Raina teased. Of course, she brought presents for the kids. Raina had no siblings of her own, so she did not have any nieces or nephews spoiled. Chris was more than happy to share.
“Come on, kids. Let’s head to the kitchen and get some ready for dinner,” Lisa instructed.
“We’ll open presents after dinner,” said Raina as she put Miles down and walked into the kitchen. Both boys following close behind and never leaving Raina’s side.
After being engulfed in hugs from Carly, Scott, and Shanna, the family sat down to dinner. While the surname Evans was rooted in Irish, the family was 100-percent Italian in their mannerisms: always talking with their hands, very boisterous, loud but pleasant, and happy. Their energy was infectious and endearing.
“I can’t believe how big Stella has gotten. She was so tiny the last time I saw her,” Raina spoke to Carly while the little girl smiled and reached for food on people’s plates.
Conversations flowed, along with the wine for the adults. It was a nice setting for Chris to see. He loved his family and was grateful to have this moment with his best friend.
When Chris and Raina left Lisa’s house, the two continued to work together to develop proper guidelines both would adhere to protect their friendship from any fallout.
Raina opted to include that both would need to be transparent with one another.
“Overall, we have to be honest with one another. If you or I feel like there is an issue that needs to be brought up, we have to say it. We can’t keep it inside and let it fester,” suggested Raina as she lounged on Chris’s bed in his home.
“Agree. I think we also need to include a guideline about not being judgmental. Like, if I am dating someone or if you are dating someone, neither of us can act like an asshole towards one another or the other’s partner at the time,” Chris replied with his suggestion. He had just taken a shower, so he was only wearing sweats, no shirt.
“I 100% agree,” Raina nodded. “I would like to include that we are open about what is considered off-limits and what is acceptable when it comes to our preferences and likes during sex. I don’t mind being adventurous,” she added suggestively.
Chris let out a boisterous laugh. “I always knew you were a big slut,” he teased.
“Well, you are a slut too, sweetie. But that is okay. I’m not judging you,” joked Raina. She always loved riling Chris up a bit.
“What have you done that is out of the box, sexually?” Chris asked. He desperately wanted to know. It was not like he and Raina had never talked about sex. In fact, he tended to be incredibly open with Raina when it came to talking about sex. She was willing to share her sexual history with him.
“I really don’t mind giving up control to my partner. But I can be dominant if need be. I’ve told you all this before,” Raina admitted honestly. She knew she could trust Chris to keep her secrets. She had no shame in telling him her sexual fantasies. “What do you provide especially for your…concubines?”
“Concubines? Throwing out the big words, are we.”
“You’re one to talk, Mr. I-Incorporate-SAT-Words-In-Every-One-Of-My-Sentences. Tell me, do you have a world of the day calendar posted next to your bed? You make sure to check every day, Mr. Thesaurus?” kidded Raina. “No, but seriously, what are holding back from me, Mr. Evans?” she asked while climbing on top of Chris’s lap. It did not take long for Raina to begin grinding against him while trailing kisses up his neck to ear.
“You really do love taking control, don’t you, little girl,” Chris pointed out as he rubbed his hands over Raina’s ass. “But here is something you don’t quite get…” he said and immediately flipped Raina onto her back.
With Chris hovering over Raina, he took her hands and put them above her head. “I like to be in control,” he declared and captured her lips with his. “Let me show what I can provide you. Don’t move those hands, now,” Chris instructed and began taking off Raina’s leggings and underwear.
Chris was not going to rush this, but instead, was willing to be patient and prolong providing Raina pleasure for as long as possible. When it came to giving a woman head, Chris was a pro. However, with Raina, this was more intimate and would take their friend with benefits agreement to a whole other level. He teased her clit, then would trail kisses up and down her inner thighs.
When he finally began using his tongue, Raina jerked and gasped. “Oh my God! That feels so good.” Chris had to hold Raina down by putting one of his large hands on her stomach. It took all of Raina’s self-control to keep her hands put and not grab Chris’s hair.
“I need to come!” Raina shouted after Chris inserted a finger and began pumping in and out of her.
“So soon,” he teased and continued pumping, this time adding another finger. “Nah, not yet, sweetheart. I’m not quite done tasting you.”
October 21, 2014
It was sad saying goodbye to the Evans clan, especially when they began crying. He was worried that Chris and Raina would not be around to trick or treat with him.
“Hey buddy, I will be back before then to celebrate Halloween together. I promise we will go trick or treating,” Chris consoled his youngest nephew.
“Can Raina come with us?” the little boy asked.
“Heck yeah, I’m coming tricking or treating with you guys,” confirmed Raina, to which Miles replied happily by jumping for joy and hugging her tightly.
The flight from Boston to Dongguan, China, for the Mission Hills Golf Club Tournament was thirty-five hours, including two layovers, one at JFK Airport and another at Heathrow. Raina was happy not to have to take the trip alone. She and Chris were accommodated with first-class tickets, so traveling the long distance came with perks.
“Hey, thanks for agreeing to stay a little longer in Boston for Halloween. The kids really adore you. I know you must have planned on seeing your dad while you got some time off,” Chris uttered as he got comfortable in his plane seat. They finally boarded the plane on their second layover.
“It’s no problem. I talk to my dad all of the time, so he’s doing alright,” said Raina and added, “He has actually…began dating again.”
Chris already knew this as George had asked him for dating advice. George had asked Chris not to mentioned it to Raina as he worried it would upset his daughter. Chris understood and kept his mouth shut.
“I mean…that is a good thing…right? He’s getting back out there…moving on…healing… that’s good. You’re good with it, right?” Chris rambled on nervously. The last thing he wanted for Raina to be upset or in a bad mood for the duration of their trip.
“It’s weird. The whole thing is weird. I don’t really want to talk about it. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I gotta use the bathroom,” mumbled Raina and got up from her seat.
“Raina, don’t be upset,” Chris interjected.
“I’m not upset. I really do have to use the bathroom because I drank all that water during the last layover,” she said, making her way to the bathroom.
As Chris waited for Raina to return, he asked one of the flight attendants for a Dirty Shirley, his travel companion’s favorite drink, and Stella Artois for himself, along with some snacks. He also pulled out his laptop and looked through his movie library to see what would be good to watch. Chris ended up choosing one of his favorite Disney movies, Robin Hood, which was also one of Raina’s favorites.
When Raina returned to her seat, she saw the set-up Chris and was given her Dirty Shirley. The deliciously sweet drink definitely helped lift her spirits.
“We have about eighteen hours until we land in China, let’s just get drunk and watch Disney movies for the time being,” Chris suggested, and he raised his beer to toast with Raina.
“You’re such a sweetheart, Evans. I can’t deal with you sometimes.”
The two friends drank and ate some snacks while making it through three movies before eventually falling asleep. When the plane finally landed in Dongguan, China, both were ready to put on their “game face” for the week. It was business as usual with PR events and gatherings.
Chris and Raina were not worried about rumors spreading within their respective fandoms about the two being at the same event; they were used to it by now. During the actual Mission Hills golf tournament, Raina and Chris would purposely stand close to one another or walk side-by-side with their arms around each other at parties. Both knew they were playing with fire, but in the end, Chris and Raina were having fun and enjoying being with one another.
They were two touchy-feely friends on the surface, but behind closed doors, they were so much more.
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The Cat’s Whiskers / drama part full translation
As usual: If you want to see the prettier version a.k.a subbed version with proofreads, please head to the Paradox Live discord!
Names:
Saimon Naoakira: N
Kanbayashi Yohei: Y
Natsume Ryuu: R
Ando Shiki: S
P.S. This translation starts right after the sample (again!), so head there if you haven’t read it yet!
Y: We really got knocked out of our seats back then.
It was a performance that scorched into your soul.
N: Yeah.
Unmistakably, their existence made hip hop boomed thereafter.
That’s why everyone thought Buraikan would lead the newcomers as it is, but...
S: Did something happen?
Y: In just a night, they disappeared…
Just like children’s fairy tales, that is.
S: No way…
Why so suddenly…?
N: It was said that they disbanded, but nobody knows the truth.
It was something God only knows.
R: Even though those two were promising…
Y: Hah, talking as if you know anything.
R: Hehehehehe…
Y: Stop laughing in such a disgusting way, you tool!
R: Tool… tool…? It sounds kinda cute, tool!
Yo yo, representing Tools, Ryuu-kun has come! Obeying instincts, toying you with pork cutlets, checkera!
N: Haha.
You know those phantometals we use on stage, right?
It was said that the first person to use it to visualize their emotion and carry out a Phantom Stage was Buraikan.
Y: Yeah. There’s a really long bridge that’s made off-limits in the bay coast area, right?
Beyond that, there originally was a big live house.
That’s Buraikan’s home base… Club Paradox.
S: That place held such a past, huh…
N: Yeah.
Shall we get back on track?
This invitation… what do you think about it, Yohei?
Y: I’ve said this before, but it’s fishy.
There’s no way Paradox will suddenly come back.
Well, at most, it’s a passionate heads’[1] work.
R: But that Club Paradox came back, you know?
N: Ryuu, why do you think so?
R: Because my friend, Pigeon-san, told me so.
He said, ‘Flap flap flap, pow, pow!’.
Y: Oi, Saimon.
As I thought, this guy’s lost it.
N: Haha. Shiki, can you look it up?
S: Ah, yes.
Umm…
Ah, there’s a hit!
It seems that people are rapidly uploading pictures on SNS.
Um, this…
Y: Seriously…?
That island has, again…!?
No way…!
N: Very interesting…!
What in the world is the mechanism behind it…?
I certainly want to confirm it with my own eyes.
Y: Why are you so fixated on that event?
If you only want to know the reason behind Paradox’s come back, you don’t have to go as far as participating.
N:I want to try aiming for it once again… with you, and with these children.
For the apex of hip hop.
Y: Ah… the glory we failed to grasp at that time, huh?
***
Y: Saimon, this is huge!
N: What’s wrong?
Y: It’s an invitation from overseas!
There was an American fest that Buraikan participated before they disbanded, right!?
They said they want us to do a phantom live!
N: …!
Y: Saimon…?
Oi, what’s wrong with you? Isn’t it a nice offer!?
If we perform there, our name will spread in one go!
If that happens, even Tsubaki-san will…!
N: I’m sorry. It’s impossible for the current me.
Y: Hah? What’s up with that?
You’re not gonna say you’re bored of hip hop, are you?
N: That’s impossible!
Even I think it’d be splendid if I could participate.
But… I’m sorry.
I’m sorry, Yohei…
***
Y: Saying something hard to refuse…
N: It’s a very egoistic reason, yet…
I want to dream again.
Y: And? Who else are invited?
N: Each has different inclinations, but all of them are currently uprising teams.
The team popular among youths, B.A.E;
Militaristic, gangster-representing Akan Yatsura;
And lastly, the team running around breaking into every competitions with monetary award, cozmez.
R: Aah~ I broke it!
This is no good, no good~
Hm? Shiki?
S: Ah… ah…
Y: Oi… what’s up with you, suddenly?
N: Shiki!?
Yohei, I’ll handle this.
Y: Understood.
Ryuu, get a broom and dustpan.
R: Aye, aye, Sir~
S: Ah… ah, ah…
N: Shiki.
S: Owner… I… I…
N: Everything is alright, Shiki.
Because I am here with you.
S: Ah… but…
N: Poor thing…
Turning this pale…
Come, take a deep breath.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Are you alright?
S: Yes. um… I’m sorry… for interrupting the talk…
N: You don’t have to worry about such things.
Y: Drink this water, ‘kay?
S: Ah… thank you very much.
Y: Hey, Saimon.
I’m fine if you want to aim for the top in hip hop once again, but…
In reality, won’t a competition be too big a burden for this guy?
N: Hmm…
R: Ryuu-kun thinks Paradox Live sound interesting, but does Shiki not want to join?
S: It’s impossible… for somene stained like me…
R: Shiki, you’re dirty!?
Hah, you haven’t taken a bath!?
Sniff, sniff…
Y: Stop it, you idiot!
R: Ouch, it hurts, it hurts!
S: Plus, if I participated in that event…
Y: It’s not like this is the first time you perform in an event, right?
What’s wrong with you, suddenly?
Saimon, don’t you think it’s better to consider participating without Shiki?
S: Yeah… but Ryuu’s tricky sense and Shiki’s prodigious sense of rhythm is vital to our music.
Furthermore, Whiskers is comprised of four people, all together.
If we can’t all go, let’s give up on participating.
S: N-no!! That’s no good!!
R: Shikki?
S: My feelings don’t matter; I want to be of use to Owner.
I have to…
Y: What are we gonna do now?
N: I don’t think your feelings don’t matter.
Because I want you, Shiki, to take good care of yourself.
And for that, I’m sure that this competition will be a good experience.
Y: Which means…
N: We’ll participate with The Cat’s Whiskers.
Is that alright? Shiki.
S: ...Yes.
N: I’m really sorry.
Thank you, Shiki.
S: Owner…
R: Ye~s, Ryuu-kun’s sleepy, it’s fifteen minutes until nighty-sleepy Ryuu-kun, beep, beep, beep, beep…
N: Haha, that’s true. Everyone, I’m sorry for keeping all of you up until this late.
Ryuu and Shiki, please sleep first.
I’ll tidy up the shop with Yohei for a while longer.
S: Understood…
N: Then, good night.
R: The nighty sheep goes ‘baa, baa, baa’…
S: Ryuu-kun, wait, that’s dangerous…Come on… wake up…
Y: Saimon… that just now wasn’t your only reason for participating, right?
(in the back ground) S: Hey, are you listening?
N: My, my, I’m really no match for you, Yohei.
Actually, that Alter Trigger Company is trying to buy-out this land.
Y: Huh? That Alter Trigger is?
N: Yeah.
Y: Oi… seriously?
...Fucking around like this…!
I’ll never hand over Seven-Four to anyone!!
This shop is ours!!
N: Of course, I also have no plans of handing over this shop that easily.
However, there’s no other way for us to protect this shop but to buy-out the whole land in a higher price than them.
Y: So, how much is it?
N: Including maintenance costs, it will be difficult if we don’t have ten billion yen.
Y: That’s like a number some brat sloppily thought up of!
How are we supposed to gather that much… don’t tell me, you…
N: Yeah, it’s just as you thought.
Y: So that’s your plan.
Shit!
N: There’s also the matter with Ryuu and Shiki. That’s why, we have to win this stage battle no matter what.
Y: Well, if you think in reverse, it’s a simple matter.
All problem’s solved if we become the top, right?
N: Haha. Well, I guess it is.
Y: Let’s do it, Saimon.
Just like us of that time.
N: Yeah. Plus, now we have Ryuu and Shiki, too.
Y: Drink up, Saimon.
N: What, you’re going to drink again?
Y: There’s no way I can go on without drinking after you told me something like that.
N: That’s true.
I’m sorry for always troubling you, Yohei.
Y: The feeling’s mutual.
We’ll protect this shop for sure.
N: That’s my plan.
Cheers.
***
Y: 'Due to event participation, Bar Seven-Four is temporarily closed for today.’
Alright, this is fine.
R: Huh? Shiki, you’re nervous again!
S: I-I’m fine! I’m always like this, after all.
Y: I think that’s a problem in itself, though.
R: You know Shiki, you don’t have to be that nervous!
S: Ryuu-kun…
R: After all, it’s just a competition! It’s not like we’re going to die~!
S: Ah…!
Y: Grr…
R: Ouch!! Master kicked me!!
Y: Don’t say unnecessary things and make him even more nervous!
N: Are you alright, Shiki?
S: Yes, I’m fine.
N: You might not realize it, but Shiki’s the one who had enhanced our music to this point.
In order to win Paradox Live, we can’t have anyone missing.
S: Is that true…?
N: Yes, it is.
R: What about Ryuu-kun?
Hey, hey, what about Ryuu-kun!?
N: Haha, of course Ryuu is also needed.
And Yohei, too.
Y: Stop it, my flattery allergy’s gonna act up.
S: Haha…
R: Ah, Shiki laughed!
Y: Alright, let’s go, Saimon!
N: Yeah.
Let’s teach everyone what real music is like…
We, as The Cat’s Whiskers.
Notes
[1] Heads = term for hip hop fan.
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Pathetic, Clinging Poetry - Chapter 1 (of 25)
After escaping from the control of her mother, Pearl struggles to adjust to her new life. Her main source of comfort is an old composition notebook of poetry about her ex-girlfriend, and the possibility that she can find her again.
Human AU.
Trigger warning for implied abuse.
Next Chapter
*
When you embraced me,
I felt like my feet could sink into the earth,
And I was a flower who'd just sprouted.
Yet I'd never been more free.
*
Anxiety bubbled up in Pearl's chest as she glanced over to the backpack sitting in the corner of her room. She let out a sigh; she still couldn’t believe what she was about to do. Her heart ached for Peony, who she'd tried to convince to come along; but her sister insisted she couldn't bring herself to leave their mother all alone. Every now and then Pearl had considered staying behind just so Peony wouldn't suffer alone -- but she shook those thoughts off right away. She couldn't put this off any longer.
She rose to her feet and stretched, and then went over her mental checklist one last time. She'd packed just about all of the necessities, and enough bottled water and snacks to sustain her for the long car ride ahead. She'd deleted every photo and every last app on her phone; bringing it along only made it easier for someone to track her down, so she planned to leave it behind. All that was left was the tattered composition book Pearl stored beneath her mattress. Once she'd fished it out and slipped it into her bag, Pearl took a deep breath. 'This is not your fault. You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't have to. If she wanted you to stay, she wouldn't have given you so many reasons to leave.' Pearl silently reassured herself.
Slinging the bag over her shoulders, Pearl pushed her bedroom door open and tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as she could manage. A stair inevitably creaked here and there, but not loudly enough to wake anyone.
Pearl froze up once she reached the front door. She tried to reach out for the doorknob, but couldn’t bring her hand to move. Instead, she pressed her head against the door and let out a tiny whine. 'God, I wish I didn’t have to do this… Too late to change my mind now, though.' she thought, brushing a tear from her cheek. After finally pulling herself together, Pearl slowly turned the doorknob and pulled the door open -- flinching as it squeaked -- and stepped out into the chilly spring night. She locked the door behind herself -- hesitating one last time -- before she hurried out to her car and drove off.
*
The first night was unbearable; Pearl knew she shouldn't complain, though. Compared to many others in her situation, she was fairly lucky; she at least had a place to run away to. The couch wasn't even particularly uncomfortable, either; just the unfamiliarity of her surroundings and the chronic cold sweat from her anxiety made everything around her unpleasant.
She sat upright, smoothing out her matted hair; at least she was far away from her mother. That was what mattered more than anything. The sun began to shine through the window, and Pearl whined and buried her face back into her pillow. She'd probably gotten an hour of sleep, if she were to stretch it.
"You alright?"
Pearl flinched at the sudden voice, but she relaxed once she realized it was only Jasper. She was watching her from the doorway of the living room, a somewhat concerned expression on her face, a cup of steaming tea in her hands. "I wish I could say yes." Pearl responded, her voice just above a whisper.
Jasper reached for the string on the tea bag, moving it around in the cup. "Yeah, that's what I expected. And don't take this as me trying to bring you down, but don't expect to feel better right away. You're probably gonna feel like garbage for a while." she said; she took a sip from her cup and winced. "Ouch. There go my taste buds." she mumbled, blowing on the tea in an attempt to cool it off. "Anyway, once it passes –and it will,— you're gonna be glad you got yourself outta there."
Pearl sat upright, putting her head in her hands. "I really can't thank you enough for doing this." she said in an attempt to change the topic. "When I asked you if I could stay with you, I didn't think you'd say yes. I'd just been planning to live in my car until... I don't even know." she continued. "So... when you said yes, I really felt like I’d been blessed.”
"Pfft, please. I'm just doing what any decent human would if they could." Jasper said, setting her mug on the coffee table and sitting down beside Pearl. "Besides, it gets lonely around here. Sure, I've got my sister, but still. I've missed you."
Pearl couldn't help but blush. "Is there anything you'd like me to do while you're gone?" she asked.
Jasper shrugged. "I dunno. Don't burn the house down. Make some brownies or something."
"No, I'm serious! Give me a list of chores or something, I don't want to stay around here and be a burden on you!" Pearl insisted, clasping her hands.
"Pearl, just relax. You haven’t even been here for a whole day, and if I remember anything about you from high school, it's that you're clean as can be and eat like a bird. I don't think you're going to be a burden on either of us." Jasper said, resting a hand on Pearl's shoulder. "Just... chill."
Even though it should have been comforting, Jasper's stubbornness only frustrated Pearl. She got antsy when she didn't have anything to do... Even if there wasn't anything Jasper wanted from her, perhaps she could find something to clean or organize after she left… "...Alright. I'll focus on myself today -- or at least try to."
"Good. That's what I wanted to hear. I don't want you to do a single chore today, alright?" Jasper said, standing up and heading out of the living room. She stopped right in front of the doorway, glancing back at Pearl. "Except brownies. You should make brownies."
Pearl smiled and rolled her eyes. "Of course. I'll make my special recipe."
"Who the hell are you talking to at six in the morning?” a voice called from upstairs.
"Really, Ame? You forgot Pearl was here?" Jasper called. “I’m just making sure she’s comfortable before I go to work.”
"Oh, right." Amethyst peered into the living room from the top of the stairs, her hair a tangled mess. "Welp, I'm going back to bed, then. Nighty night, nerds."
"Nighty night, butthead." Jasper said. Once Amethyst had retreated back to her room, she turned back to Pearl. "On top of not burning the house down... Try to be quiet for Amethyst. She usually sleeps til noon and gets unbearable when she doesn't get her full twelve hours."
Pearl smiled. "I don't think that'll be a problem."
"I didn't think so either." Jasper said, continuing into the entry room and grabbing her coat from the closet. "Well, I gotta work now, as much as I'd rather stay here. Feel free to help yourself to whatever food we have. See you around four."
"See you later!" Pearl said, waving to Jasper as she headed out the door. Once she was gone, she flopped back down onto the couch and buried her face into the pillow, hoping to block out the sunlight that way. Talking to Jasper had helped her relax a bit, so maybe she’d be able to get a little sleep... The more she laid in silence, however, the more her mind was free to race, and she definitely couldn’t afford that. So she dragged herself to her feet and rubbed her eyes, groaning as she forced herself to stretch. Perhaps she could perk herself up with a little tea and catch up on sleep later...
*
The sweet, chocolate scent of brownies filled the house; Pearl hummed to herself as she put on a pair of oven mitts and pulled the pan out of the oven, placing it on top of the stove.
"Oooh, watcha making?" Amethyst asked, her mere presence causing Pearl to jump in surprise.
"J-just some brownies." Pearl said, trying to hide just how much Amethyst had startled her. She didn't want to make her feel bad when she’d meant no harm… "They're for Jasper, but you're welcome to have some as well."
"Aw yeah!" Amethyst said with a grin. She grabbed a knife and cut out a huge slice of the brownie, attempting to scoop it onto a plate; but because it was still hot, it all fell apart into a pile of mush. She simply shrugged; "What matters is the taste, even if it's ugly." Amethyst said. She grabbed a fork from the dishwasher and sat down at the table, taking a bite. "Ouch, fuck, hot!"
Pearl stifled a giggle; what was with these two constantly burning their tongues? Did it run in the family or something? "Yes, well, it did just come out of the oven."
Amethyst rolled her eyes, taking a sip of water to cool her mouth off. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway." she began once she recovered, giving Pearl a curious-yet-teasing look. "So uh, what's your deal?"
Pearl was startled by the suddenness of her question; what was that even supposed to mean? "My... deal?"
"Yeah. I mean, Jasper didn't tell me jackshit about why you're even staying here. At first I thought you guys were banging or something, but then I wondered, why'd she make you sleep on the couch? Is it some obscure fetish I'm not aware of?"
Pearl blushed, cupping a hand over her mouth. "Dear Lord, no!" she gasped. Amethyst burst into laughter at the reaction, which only flustered Pearl even more. Amethyst apparently had no filter whatsoever... "She... Jasper allowed me to stay here because I needed to get away from where I was living. She was kind enough to give me a couch to sleep on."
"Mhm." Amethyst said once she recovered from laughing, wiping a tear from her eye. "And where were you living before?"
'She sure is nosy...' Pearl thought. "With my mother. A few states over. She was... very controlling. I couldn't stand to live with her any longer, so I ran away." Pearl said.
"Aw, that sucks." Amethyst said, taking another bite of her brownie; she looked a bit uncomfortable, as if she hadn't expected Pearl's answer to be that serious. "Sorry you had to deal with that shit. Also, these brownies are good as fuck."
Pearl tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, sitting down at the table across from Amethyst. She was somewhat thankful for the awkward change in conversation Amethyst had proposed. "Oh, thank you. I came up with the recipe myself! Or, well, I took another recipe and altered it until I thought it was perfect." Pearl said, resting her arms on the table and twiddling her thumbs. "Lots of chocolate chips is what makes them so gooey."
"I can tell. You're way better at this than Jasper." Amethyst said, resting her elbow on the table. "She always either burns or under-cooks her shit. You should give her cooking lessons." she teased, pushing her plate aside once she'd finished.
"Aw, well... I wouldn't want to be condescending." Pearl said, glancing to the side.
"Pfft. Not like she's never condescending." Amethyst said. "Also uh, I'm being super nosy again, and you can tell me to shut up if you want..." she began; Pearl tensed, praying Amethyst would have some common sense and not ask anything too intrusive. "But how do you know Jasper? Like, she's never mentioned you before. I mean, she barely tells me anything about her life, but I feel I’d at least have heard your name at some point. But it’s almost like she just pulled you out of thin air.”
Pearl couldn't help but let out a tiny sigh of relief. That wasn't the type of question she'd been expecting. "Oh, we used to be very close friends a while back. In high school, to be exact. But when I started doing home schooling instead, we sort of drifted apart. We hadn't really talked for years, up until a few weeks ago when I found her on Facebook." Pearl smiled softly. "As soon as she accepted my request, I explained my whole situation to her. I thought my chances were slim, that I'd have to just live in my car or something -- and it would have been completely reasonable for her to tell me no, so... I was really thankful when she said I could come stay with you two."
"Hm… That’s kinda weird of her. She never seemed like the type to just let an old high school friend come and sleep on our couch.” Amethyst said. "That said, she hasn't kicked me outta the house yet. But I guess I have an advantage because I'm her sister."
Pearl rose from her chair, tiptoeing over to the cabinet and grabbing a box of plastic wrap. "It's strange, because I don't even remember Jasper having a sister. How much younger are you?" she asked, covering up the tray of brownies.
"Like, three years. But I got adopted when I was fifteen and she was in her senior year of high school." Amethyst said.
"Ah, that's why I probably never heard about you, then." Pearl said, trying to hide her surprise; that would mean she was twenty three! Amethyst looked far younger than that, but perhaps she shouldn't have assumed. "I got pulled out of high school in the middle of my junior year -- I was a year ahead of Jasper."
"Lucky!" Amethyst said. "High school was absolute hell for me. I begged my parents to let me do home school, or at least go to a different school, but they insisted I stay right where I was." she pouted.
"Well..." Pearl began, but trailed off. She'd already overshared enough to Amethyst; she wasn't sure she was comfortable telling her the actual reason she'd been taken out of high school. "At least it's over now. I know high school can be hard. It wasn't exactly easy for me, either -- but I won't compare it to your experience, because I don't know what it was like for you. Still... I went through quite a bit of bullying for being a lesbian, among other things as well, b-but it was mostly because I was a lesbian. Jasper and my girlfriend, Rose, were the only friends I really had.”
"Yeah, I get you.” Amethyst said with a shrug. “I got treated like shit for being bi, too. Maybe not as bad as it could've been, though, because everyone knew Jasper was my sister and would beat the shit out of anyone who went too far. Still though, girls in my gym class always thought I wanted to fuck them whenever I breathed in their direction." She snorted, rolling her eyes. "It was so annoying... and honestly creepy. What's with homophobes thinking they're so hot?"
"Ugh, I know! That happened to me, too!" Pearl said, giggling. "It was plain ridiculous, honestly. The fact that I already had a girlfriend wasn't enough for them to believe I wasn't interested, I guess." Pearl shrugged, putting the tray of brownies in the fridge. She wasn’t sure where Jasper would prefer she put them, but she didn’t want to take up too much space on the counter. After that, she grabbed a wet wash cloth from the sink and began to wipe off the counter.
"Aww, look at you, cleaning up the kitchen like a good house guest." Amethyst teased. She peered into the sink, noticing it was empty. “You even washed the dishes already, dang.”
“Of course! I wouldn’t want to leave everything a mess.” Pearl said.
As Amethyst watched her, she tapped her fingers on the table for a few moments before speaking again. "So, what are you planning to do today?"
"Probably just... Focus on relaxing, I guess. And cleaning. Not that your house is messy, it’s very nice, it just – it distracts me from worrying." Pearl blushed, hoping that didn’t come off the wrong way. "After that, I might do some reading, and maybe even some job searching online if I get the chance."
"Pfft, that sounds kinda lame." Amethyst said. "You wanna hang out with me and some friends instead?"
"Oh, certainly not today. I don't think I would do well with a crowd... I'm still adjusting, I suppose." Pearl said, shyly wringing her hands. "But I appreciate the offer. Maybe another time we could work something out."
"Alriiiight." Amethyst said, as if she didn't fully believe Pearl's response. "But if you change your mind, just lemme know. I'll be up in my room now." she continued, going up the stairs.
"I'll certainly let you know if I do!" Pearl responded, but she had no intention of doing so. Amethyst seemed nice -- although a bit nosy at times, but with good intentions -- but it had been a little over a decade since she'd done anything close to "going out". If she were to ever consider doing something like that, it would have to be long after she'd adjusted to her new environment...
#Pathetic Clinging Poetry#pearlmethyst#steven universe#su fanfiction#pearlmethyst fanfiction#fanfiction#poetry
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lily white in blood red // chapter two
prologue | chapter one
pairing: curtis everett x reader
word count: 2100
series summary: you are a part of the upper-middle section aboard snowpiercer, but you do not agree with the classist views of the people you are surrounded by. when the infamous curtis everett reaches your part of the train, you decide you want to join him in overthrowing the train’s misguided inventor– while curtis agrees to let you join, he has other plans in mind.
series themes: angst, romance, obsession, fighting/bloodshed, smut
chapter summary: day one is over, and it’s been surprisingly calm and smooth. however, now night one is beginning, and while curtis may be able to behave then, the next morning is a different story.
chapter themes: mentions of sex, masturbation, a little bit of curtis’ obsession beginning to come out :))
taglist: added in reblog!
notes: feedback is always, always appreciated ♡
“So. What the hell’s that all about?”
Curtis watches as Edgar gestures towards you, fast asleep. Your first twenty-four hours with the team has passed, and so far, no bloodshed. Not yet, anyways. You’re sure you’ll come across forces eventually, but Yona had explained to you that each day, each cart was always different.
“What’s what about?” Curtis asks, though his blues are focused on you, watching your frame lightly moving up and down as you breathe and your hair fanned out behind your head on his folded up jacket as a makeshift pillow. He wishes you all could have found a sleeping quarters so you could have a proper bed, but he was pleased that you did not complain at all.
Edgar looks at him in disbelief, clearly thinking his friend’s gone crazy. “Look, Curtis, I can understand sparing her life. Seems like a sweet girl, definitely beyond fit, but bringing her with us? She’s just-- I don’t know, extra weight we don’t need, especially if ya aren’t even going to let her fight. What’s the point?” Curtis sighs deeply, taking his beanie off his head to run his hands through his hair. “Leave it alone, Edgar.” He simply warns; to be honest, he would have no problem answering any of the boy’s questions, but he truly does not even know the answer to this one. Not the full one, anyways. He knows that for some reason, he needs to protect you, but why? Not a clue. He does not need Edgar to think him even crazier than he already does.
The boy who has come to be a little brother to him looks at him somewhat irritated before standing up from his sitting position leaned against the wall of the cart. “Whatever, mate. But if that girl holds us back, it’s on you.” He speaks bluntly, though not appearing to be fully mad or upset-- Curtis knows well by now that he’s simply straightforward by nature. “Get some sleep, Edgar.” He says in response, putting his beanie back on though remaining seated. “It’s been a long day. We'll talk about this later.” The younger reluctantly gets up, giving Curtis one last look before walking away, heading over to a spot near Tanya to settle himself as comfortably as he can on the floor.
Curtis waits until the blond drifts off before standing up, approaching your sleeping figure. Slowly crouching down by your side, he wraps his jacket more tightly around you, ignoring how much significantly colder he is without it. Some carts of the train are well heated, and some are not. Of course, the tail section was the latter, but by the section you are all in, most cars are quite warm-- this one seems to be the exception, seeing as it's just for the purpose of storage, shelves lining the walls. Unfortunately, there were no extra blankets or clothes among said storage.
He strokes your hair gently as he studies the peaceful expression upon your face, marveling again at your smooth, clear skin. He allows his fingertips to brush against your cheek gently, then almost feels bad for doing so. He is dirty, soiled, tainted-- especially in comparison to the ethereal figure that is you. However, when he pulls back, your eyes open as if immediately noticing the absence. He blinks, then frowns. "I didn't mean to wake you." He tells you quietly, and you look at him for a few moments; even though he is still wearing a rather thick sweater, he somehow looks different, maybe even more vulnerable without his coat on. "Come lie down," you whisper in response, slowly turning so that you are facing him. The floor is not very comfortable, especially not when compared to the bed you were used to, but you can accept that it's all you have right now. They had explained to you that it simply wasn't possible to be able to find sleeping compartments every single night, and that made sense to you. It was dangerous to advance too far in one go, especially when Wilford seemed to already know about the revolution.
"Next to you?" he asks lowly, and you see surprise in his features for the first time-- scratch that, an emotion in his features for the first time. You nod your head slowly, biting on your lip as you lift up the jacket. "This is big," you say softly, giving him an encouraging look. "We can find a way to share.... or at least give each other warmth..."
He feels something in that moment, but he can't quite place what it is. He does not argue or protest, but instead slowly lies himself down beside you. You are laying on your side facing him, your hand moving to divide the "blanket" as equally as possible; however, before you are even done, he pulls you close to his body with a strong arm, your cheeks almost instantly becoming a shade of pink as you feel yourself pressed against his broad figure. “Night.” He mutters lowly near your ear, making you shiver slightly. You aren’t sure how this feels so good, why it makes every single night you had before this one suddenly seem much emptier and more depressing. “Goodnight, Curtis,” you whisper, unbeknownst to how the mere mention of his name upon your silky voice makes his entire being palpitate.
He’d like to say this is the first time he’s ever slept soundly ever since boarding Snowpiercer, but quite honestly, he had learned a long time ago to become accustomed to the tail section at night. Despite the poor and terrible conditions, his body had adapted, and he had eventually become more submissive to sleep as the years went on, even in such uncomfortable “beds”.
However, this is the first time in a long, long time that he’s woken up with this feeling, a feeling he cannot even describe. Has he even had it before? He’s not sure.
It’s hard to tell the time, especially because this cart has no windows, but if he had to guess based on his biological clock, it seems to be early, early morning. Perhaps four? Five? The others are still asleep, exhausted from the previous day-- including you. Sleep shaded blue eyes inspect your figure as he’s spooning you, first checking to make sure you are not too cold. He still has you held tightly against his body, practically trying to both physically and mentally force all of his body warmth upon your own. You are more covered by the jacket than he is, but he still sees your bare shoulder underneath him, the strap of your nightie having slightly slid down. Fuck. He really wasn’t thinking when he made you wear that, he should have remembered that some parts of the train would still be cold. He supposes he had been too focused on arriving to the front section, even parading through the middle section, where heat would be a concept of convention rather than one of rarity. He pulls you even closer, letting out a gruff but soft exhale. You smell good, unlike, well, pretty much everyone he knows. He can’t imagine he smells any better than them, but you don’t seem to shy away from him, both when conscious and slipped away in dreamland.
He lets himself appreciate your figure a little more. It’s as though you fit perfectly into his body. He admires your shiny, washed locks fanned out behind your head, some close to tickling his nose if he were to move his own head ever-so-slightly. He loves how smooth your skin looks and feels, how silky the nightie feels under his fingertips as he grazes over your stomach; it seemed like a simple matter, but this is a texture he hasn’t felt in years, and it is comforting. Much more pleasant than his rough, dirty coat or crappy tweed blankets back in the tail section.
He can’t help but slowly let his fingers drift underneath the material, dancing them lightly along your bare abdomen. Shit. He’s already getting hard, and he has to wonder what the hell he’s doing. This isn’t the reason why he brought you along. No, you’re so much more than this. But as the bulge in his somewhat misfit pants tightens, only pressing against the soft curves of your ass that are far more revealed thanks to his hand riding your nightie up, he’s losing his sense of mind. He’s breathing heavier now, but trying his hardest to keep it as inaudible as possible, which is only even more exhausting. Barely craning his neck to look at your face, he sees you are still fast asleep despite his slight shifting and the incredibly intrusive addition pressing against your lower body. He can’t help but get into his imagination a little. How would you react if you felt it, if you saw it? He barely groans to himself thinking of those wide, innocent eyes, those parted lips making a perfect ‘o’ shape, those delicate hands pumping him and slowly sending him over the edge…
He realizes he’s rubbing himself against you now, and he stops with another low and frustrated groan. As much as he’d like to get some type of release, he definitely can’t inside his pants, considering they’re the only pair he has. For fuck’s sake, he hasn’t done this in God knows how long. Yes, it was difficult for a man to be deprived, but when it had been over the span of a couple decades, it eventually became normalcy. Arousal was the last possible thing he could feel while inhabiting the tail section.
He carefully shifts to lie on his back, now appreciative of how dark this cart is. Still, he keeps a part of the hefty jacket draped over his bulge, now reaching his hand down into his pants to take it out. He hisses quietly to himself as he starts rubbing, his palm sweaty from his thoughts, from the situation, from the sight of your perfect frame next to him. He imagines you straddling him at this exact moment, picturing how perfect you would look gazing down at him, your legs on either side of his hips and your ass nestled comfortably upon his thighs. He thinks of you riding him, still wearing that damn skimpy nightie, straps sliding down your shoulders and teasing him with a partial view of your bouncing breasts, your cheeks pink from pleasure and your moans sounding through the entire front section. He pictures you gasping with delight while coming all over his cock, your chest heaving from being so breathless, so worn out from him and only him.
A grunt, low groan, and another hiss. He comes, and he’s panting quietly, almost immediately looking around to make sure nobody witnessed this. Thankfully, everyone’s still asleep.
He’s about to use the jacket to wipe off the rest of the remains from his length, but pauses. Looking towards you, he can’t help but hum thoughtfully. He had known from the start he never wanted you tainted. You are something he could never previously have on the train, you are purity itself.
However, what if he was the one who managed your innocence? If it were in his hands, he would make sure you would never get hurt. He could take it from you, but no one else could. That would be far too dangerous. If your innocence were in his hands, he could protect you and have you.
He taps his thumb lightly upon the tip of his cock, letting a hint of white adorn his skin. Leaning over, he admires your sleeping face once more before slowly swiping his thumb across your lips, humming lowly as he watches you barely smack them in your sleep at the contact. “Does that taste good, sweetheart?” he mutters quietly, tilting his head. “It wasn’t a lot. I don’t want you to wake up, so the taste can’t be too strong.. For now. We’ll get there one day.” He promises, his voice barely above a husky whisper.
Wiping the rest off with the jacket, not really giving a shit considering how grubby it is anyways, he fixes his pants before resuming the same position as before, arm wrapped tightly around you. You stir, only just now realizing that there had been an absence to begin with. “Curtis?” you let out a soft mumble, half asleep, and he swears he is already turned on again. “I’m here,” he murmurs, moving to rest his head on top of your own. “Sleep. It’s going to be a long day, you’ll need your energy.”
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Hair and Bone - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut/Angst]
Synopsis: The new album your boyfriend is recording takes its toll on not only him, but you too.
Notes: Antichrist Superstar era! I never thought I’d write anything for this era, but I was re-reading his book, and these parts that were mentioned of the recording process for AS were just so raw, I really connected with them. So, here’s a self insert to feel all the feels! Warning: Not-so-recreational drug use and brief thoughts of self harm.
This fic can be read as a later sequel to Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn. Otherwise, it can be a standalone too.
It was the conversation that needed to happen.
It was less of a conversation, really, and more of a tension release, the pop in the balloon you had known was coming. You just wish it had happened at a more convenient time-- not 3 in the morning.
You don't care if your boyfriend gets home at 6 pm or 6 am. You’re used to his schedule being irregular. It was different when he was just starting out-- he’d record music with the guys in the closet or something, or in Jeordie’s bathroom, since it had good acoustics. Now after the success of his first studio album, the pressure for the next one is greater, and he’s putting a lot more work into it. He's in the studio, and you trust him. Tonight, he had ambled in at 2:45 in the morning, and you had been sleeping.
Hearing a faint crash and a string of 'fuck's, you open your eyes, yawn, and get out of bed. It’s either a serial killer, or your boyfriend. Not much difference.
"Bri?" you whisper, holding onto the wall.
"Yeah," he grumbles back. He sits down in the dark living room, and holds his head in his hands, lacing his fingers behind the back of his head. The only light is that of the streetlight across the road from your big, cold New Orleans house.
"You okay?"
He doesn't answer, and you sit on the hardwood floor with him. The black paint that you'd both been meaning to use on the walls still sat, unopened, beside you. It always reminded you of the times you and he would joke around and say how you'd buy a suburban house with a white picket fence, then paint the fence black and watch the neighborhood fall to pieces in uproar. Causing trouble with you always used to bring his spirits up. He doesn't look like he's in a good place right now, though. He hasn't for a while.
"How'd the day go?" you ask softly, crouching down on your knees in front of him.
Marilyn looks up, and you notice how glazed his eyes look. Well, you think, it's no different from any other night. He's always high now. It's not a judgement; merely an observation. He used to say drugs were all for appearances, to act the part of the rock and roll star he wanted so desperately to be. Now, you’re not so sure, but it’s not your place to say anything about it, and you’re not about to.
He looks at you, eyes travelling downward to sweep over your tiny black satin nightgown. You suddenly become aware of how cold you are right now, sitting on the under-heated living room hardwood. Your boyfriend's dark stare, however, heats you up.
Wordlessly, he licks his lips. You let out a breath, and let the thin strap of the nightie fall down your shoulder. It's an invitation... you did miss him.
A quiet moan escapes his lips, and he reaches forward, pressing his mouth to yours. Putting his weight on top of you, he pins you to the floor, peels off his shirt to reveal his pale, thin body, and reaches underneath the nightie. When he finds you naked with no panties, he reaches down to touch himself, unzipping his pants and lowering them just enough. He gives himself a few tugs, letting the blood rush down to his cock.
A breath of hot air on your face, and you feel the head press in, your body slowly accepting him inside. He gives you three seconds to adjust, then starts to fuck in fast and hard. A jolted cry escapes you, and it turns into a sigh as your back arches. Marilyn keeps his hands firmly braced on the hardwood as he pounds into you, each pump of him inside you feeling as if it's bruising. Your hands scramble downward, and you move your fingers to rub your clit, helping yourself along. Marilyn is unaffected by your attempt to pleasure yourself-- he doesn't tease you by taking your fingers away, and doesn't offer to take over. He just keeps fucking you, deep, punched out noises coming out of him with each thrust.
After a minute, one of his hands finds your breast, squeezing roughly, like his hand can't get enough. You choke out a noise, and you look up at his face to see that he's glowering down at you. His hair is draped around you, and it again brings you back to fond memories of Brian grinning, calling it a curtain so that the world can't see the two of you fuck.
He's not smiling now. His face is completely devoid of emotion-- at least for a moment. His black eyeshadow makes his eyes appear hollow, and you usually find it sexy, but tonight in the dark, on top of you, he looks ghoulish. His face contorts, and his lips part. His slender hips stutter, and you rub your fingers faster, desperately, feeling your release build, needing it as you grind down onto his cock.
"Wait, wait," you beg, panting into his neck, "Wait..."
He grunts a couple of times, slamming in hard, and you feel the trickle before you or he can bring you to an orgasm first. His breathing evens out, and with a sigh, he pulls out. As if he's mechanical, like he knows he’s expected to, he replaces his dick with his fingers-- three, he's not wasting time-- and starts to mercilessly shove them in. He knows all your spots. His fingers brush your G-spot as he bends them right where he knows you'll cum, and you do, gasping his name as he painfully gives you what you need.
The two of you just lie there, staring at the dark ceiling. After about five minutes, the dark starts to move before your eyes, making you see stars, and you need to sit up.
Rubbing your head, you yawn. "You wanna talk about it?"
He doesn't look at you.
"Brian?"
"No."
You look out the window, facing every possible reality. "Is there another woman?"
"No."
"Then what is it?"
The fuse that your initial question lit now explodes in your face.
"Sometimes I don't want to fucking speak, okay? Can you just respect that and shut the fuck up?"
It’s like a slap in the face. Worse. "...Okay," you murmur, curling in on yourself as he stands up. Then a voice in your head tells you, fuck that. You're always here for him. You've been here for him since he even had the glimmer of an idea for a band, and had supported him through everything. Sure, he'd supported you too in everything you'd done since then-- graduating school, moving with him, saying goodbye to your family to come out here. But these past few months, it was as if he was possessed by something darker than all the demons he sang about.
"You know what?" you whisper, "You can't tell me to shut up."
"Really?"
"You know why?"
"Why?"
"Because I've kept my mouth shut for too long. It's your life. I will always be proud of you, and supportive of you, and I will never tell you what to do. But when you say shit like that to me? I don't deserve that." He doesn't answer, and you feel your blood rising. "You'd better agree with me real fast."
"You can't possibly fucking imagine the stress I'm under right now," he shoots back, "My band is falling apart. I feel like I'm falling apart."
"And I'm trying to help you," you insist.
"You can't help me. You're just in my way." The weight of his words are crushing. "I feel like a hamster in a wheel, (y/n), and I'm ready to chew my own arm off. I'm not getting anywhere and it's because I have some fucked up idea of a perfect life with you, some stupid notion that entered my stupid unconscious grey matter back when I started this disjointed excuse for a fucking band. I can't make the record I want to make to get to the future I want to make with you, it’s all dead ends and it's killing me!"
You balk. And this is somehow your fault? "What am I supposed to do about it?"
"You can't do anything. All you can do at this point is fuck me when I need you, and leave me the hell alone otherwise." Through the darkness, you can't see the tear running down his cheek. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean any of it, he wishes the automatic wiring of his jaw would stop, just stop, stop talking you fucker!
"Wow. You are something. Why don't you go run to your boyfriend Trent? I'm sure he could help with all of that."
Apologize. Hold her in your arms and make her forget this stupid fight happened. "Yeah, you know what? Maybe I will. He probably gives better head than you too!" That stings. You've always prided yourself on your blow jobs.
"Fuck you, Brian Warner."
He doesn't answer. He just glares, a glare that seems to drill right through you, like he's not even glaring at you anymore.
You put a coat and his pants on, since they're the first ones you find, pick up your bag, shove a few things into it, and leave. He watches you go, numb as he seems to feel every waking moment of his life now. The stubbornness in him won't let him break down and cry, or throw something, or beat himself in the stomach until he throws up. He can only stand there, the silence like knives digging into his ears.
---
It's 6:15 am, and you're waiting for the bus to the airport. Your mom had offered to come pick you up when you get home from New Orleans, and you had gladly accepted. You need your family right now more than ever.
Approaching the flight desk, you look up at all the listings of flights.
"Excuse me, is flight 237 updated?" you frown. She types something in.
"Yes, that's the latest. I'm afraid the cancellation is due to unforeseen weather conditions at the destination. We can get you on another flight tomorrow."
You thank her, and leave the airport. You could just sleep in there, but you honestly don't know what to do with yourself. You just want to lay on the floor and cry away those six years you had been with him... and crying on floors is usually frowned upon in airports.
If Brian was here, he'd tell you to do it, just to see what people would say.
You walk out of the building.
---
"Hey."
Marilyn doesn't notice Twiggy's greeting as he enters Nothing Records' studio, which is just Trent's glorified rockstar pad. Jokingly to get his attention, Twiggy takes off his shoe, and tosses it at Marilyn's head. Marilyn stops, picks it up, takes Pogo's ligher, lights the shoe up, and sends it crashing through the window. If Twiggy had eyebrows, he would raise them. Trent's head appears in the doorway from the other room.
"Yeah. You’ll be billed for that. I take it you didn't have a good night." And just like that, the light mood he had walked in on was now compromised. Great going, Brian. You fuck up. Now they’re not only gonna wanna not work and do coke all day, but they’re gonna wanna not work and do coke all day without you.
Ginger wisely stays out of it, opting instead to use the kitchen for some weird yoga thing he'd been getting into. Daisy is sitting outside on the steps of the house doubling as a studio, recording personal shit into his tape. Pogo walks through the broken glass to go upstairs, and Twiggy awkwardly shuffles backward that way.
"Mar. There's, uhhh.... there's a table of blow upstairs if you need it. Y'know... you... look like you could use a line or two." His best friend gives a sympathetic half smile, offering solace the only way he knows how. He looks like he wants to say something else-- to offer council, comfort, anything, but he dashes skittishly the other way as soon as Marilyn turns. The frontman really can't blame Jeordie. He's fallen even further into the dope than he has himself, he started a long ass time ago, and moreover, Jeord knows by now that talking to him like this is like poking a bear.
The singer gives a quick glance out the window to make sure he's not currently burning Trent's house down with pyrotechnic footwear (he can pay for a broken window, but a burned down house would seriously deprive their touring funds). When he sees that the shoe is just burning calmly on the sidewalk, contained in its own little bubble of anarchy as it quietly disintegrates to ash, Marilyn relates the shoe to his own life.
Or maybe he just wishes that were him.
Promising himself he wouldn't break down again, he floats like a ghost over to the recording equipment. Their label manager is in the den, watching hockey with Trent or some stupid sports bullshit like that, which leaves him alone, again, to actually try making music. That's what he does, right? That's what he’s supposed to do.
His rough recording of the track 'Tourniquet' is open on the laptop, and for no reason in particular, he starts to play it. Listening to the words, he closed his eyes, and thinks of you. He thinks of your hand holding his, how happy you get when you watch him perform. He hears you whispering that you love him, that he’s enough, that he isn't broken, that maybe it’s just the system that’s broken.
Leaning his head down on the table, he lets all the emotions wash over him, lets the tears drop and watches the red carpet beneath his knees turn them into drops of blood. Digging around under said carpet, he takes out a small bag they had all stashed under there for "emergencies." He doesn't want to do it. He almost splits the bag, almost watches it all pour out, sifting through the floorboards like sugar. But he can't do that. Not that he doesn't have the willpower to quit it now-- he most certainly does-- it just seems like a bigger fuck you to do the coke than to throw it away in favor of self reflection.
Lifting a bump on his knuckle up to his nose, he snorts the powder up, and squeezes his eyes shut. He's becoming numb to it. He gives himself another, and another. After five, he quits when he finally gets the high he wants, dropping the bag and digging his forehead into the table.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Reaching for the mic, he sets it up with shaking hands, turning those hands into fists and tapping an S.O.S into the table, wishing you could hear it and come running to him. He holds the mic, and whispers, clear as day, into it:
"This is my lowest point of vulnerability.”
---
An hour must have gone by, and Marilyn finally drags himself up. Walking out to the front steps of the house, he sits down next to Daisy, the Sexual Janitor, his oldest friend and the only soul on the premises who isn't hopelessly doped up.
"You're not having a good day," the guitarist remarks softly, not looking up from his strings.
"What gave me away?" Marilyn mutters sarcastically, rubbing his sore nose. Daisy looks up, studies him. Marilyn doesn't like to be studied, so he looks away. "(y/n) left." Daisy runs a hand through his green hair, nods.
They sit for a bit, just exist. Daisy picks up a half-smoked cigarette from the step beside him, and offers it to his friend. The singer glances at it, repulsed, but accepts it anyway between his fingers. He takes a pull, then remembers why smoking is one of his biggest pet peeves. Whipping it into the street to join Twiggy's burning shoe before Daisy can take it back, he coughs, waves the offending cloud away and groans into his hands.
"My life is falling apart, Scott. I feel like I just lost the last piece that was holding it together."
Daisy nods again. "I get it. You're losing it. We're all losing it."
"Says the most conscious man here," Marilyn laughs bitterly, almost envious of Daisy's sobriety.
"You don't have to be high to feel like you're out touch," Daisy says, strumming his chords, "And I certainly don't have to be high to know you are out of touch with not only this band, but who you want to be."
"Shit. Thanks, doc. This is really helpful. I think I'm gonna go inside now and blow my brains out."
"Hey. Dickwad." Daisy puts down his guitar. "We've both known (y/n) since Spooky Kids. You were closer to her, obviously, but she's a special one. She's stayed for this long, through your worst. And you've been terrible. Don't lose her now."
Marilyn sighs, rubbing at his eyes, wondering if his headache is from sleep deprivation or a long overdue brain aneurysm.
Daisy doesn't encourage him to open up. He doesn't tell him to accept that it's human nature to be co-dependent. He doesn't tell Marilyn that's love or some stupid shit like that, doesn’t mention that it's in his nature to push people away. He knows his friend too well to even attempt it. He just leans back against the door, and hums.
"We could all die tomorrow. Wouldn't you want to be with her your last night?"
Marilyn pauses. He's never really thought of it like that. "Hey. When did you get so wise?" the singer chuckles.
Daisy just smiles, going back to his guitar. "You haven't talked to me properly in like, 4 years. We used to be close, man."
"Yeah," Marilyn muses, "Yeah."
---
Standing in front of the house, you wonder why you're back. You've told yourself at least ten times it's to grab the rest of your stuff so you don't have to pay him to ship it out to you, but the more you stand here, key in hand, the more you doubt that's the reason you returned.
Taking a deep breath and shaking your head, you force yourself past the walkway, and let yourself in.
"Hello?" the door creaks, and opens to an empty house. Good. No distractions.
Walking around, you start to pack all your things properly, and see evidence of a very tough morning in the bathroom. Writing out a note, you think of what you want to say to him. You'd given him so many years of your life, and he you, since you were both angsty kids who just wanted to make your mark on the world. You write out one of his lyrics he had shared with you in bed the other night... if you could just remember them right:
I wrapped our love in all this foil
Silver-tight like spider legs
I never wanted it to ever spoil
But flies will...
Ah, fuck it. You crumple the paper. You can’t remember the lyrics properly, and that’ll just do more harm than good. After all... he's the poet, not you.
Just then, you hear the door knob jiggle, and keys in the lock.
Oh god. You do not have the emotional stability right now to deal with this confrontation. Ducking behind the couch, you lay on your back and try to keep quiet.
He tosses his keys onto the table, and sighs. He starts mumbling something, but you can't hear.
---
Marilyn rubs his face, starting to think about dinner. He had an opened packet of kraft dinner somewhere in some cupboard, and even though it would be stale, that sounded pretty good. Mac and cheese with ketchup. White trash through and through and more unhealthy shit to ruin his body with. Whatever. Mac and cheese is comfort food... or so his mom told him.
He runs over the events of the day in his head as he counts how many things he had gotten done. Pissed half his band-mates off, reconnected with one. The middle of the day was a coked up white blur, and... well... he had finished Tourniquet, and Dried Up, Tied was pretty much ready for demo. That's more than he'd done in a month, but he felt as if he had gone backward, not forward.
Grab a razor blade, take your shirt off, and check and see if your worthless heart is still pumping blood.
He stamps the intrusive impulse down, and gives an indifferent huff.
As he walks past the dark living room, not bothering to turn on a lamp, the streetlight from outside catches the metal of something he has sitting on a shelf. He backtracks, and finds a few of his lunchboxes from the collection he hadn't finished unpacking yet. He half smiles, looking at the Scooby Doo one, the Planet of the Apes one, and the one that even had his old band's name on it. Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids.
He feels a stab of guilt, and makes a mental note to go easier on Daisy. He did contribute a lot in the days of the old gigs.
Why is he referring to it as his old band? It's still the same band. But somehow, it isn't. They had grown up, into darker, scarier versions of themselves, each one of them on their own personal path of destruction, taking out everything and everyone in their way. Fundamentally loathsome.
Marilyn scratches his bony rib cage and turns away from the shelf, muttering about filing that one away for a future song or something. He walks over to the fridge, blows off dinner, and grabs a beer, chugging half of it down and heading back toward the living room. With any luck, he'll have put down three bottles by midnight.
---
You bite your fist. Hiding definitely wasn't a good idea. Just telling him you were grabbing a couple of things and leaving for good would have done just fine, not... hiding behind your old couch in the dark like a goddamn Nosferatu!
Shit. He's coming over here... maybe if you try and crawl around the cushions...
Marilyn frowns as he sees something move out of the corner of his eye. This time, it isn't metal glinting. This is real movement.
"Satan? Is that you?" he whispers, and lets out a humorless laugh. Ah, the small joys of sharing an inside joke with yourself. (y/n) would find it funny. He swings the beer bottle in his hand, setting it down beside the couch. "If it is... I could use a bit of your black spell shit, you magical goat motherfucker. See, I've got this girl. She's everything I want, but of course, I fuck up things that're good in my life-- you know me-- so that's done. Congratu-fuckin-lations, Manson, you’ve done it again. So, if you wanna... take my soul or something, if it's not too damaged, you can go right ahead, buddy. No returns. If I didn't have a soul, I'd have a lot less pr--" He lets out a piercing yell as he sees you crawling on his floor. That's not Satan.
Flicking the closest lamp on, he sees it’s you. "(y/n)!"
You glare at him. "I was getting my things."
"On the floor?!"
"You hide drugs in the floor, why can't I?"
"You don't d... what the fuck are you doing here, and... oh god, I thought you were some crazy girl who got in through my window or something.”
“You thought I was Satan.”
“I thought you were gonna kill me!"
You shrug. "I still might." Marilyn almost lets out an incredulous laugh of relief. It's almost like old times again. You frown, and remember why you're there, and that it is not, in fact, like old times. "Just... I'm not ready to talk to you. Please don't try."
You quickly grab your things, and he stands there. "Why'd you come back when you knew I could be here?"
"Don't make this about you. I'm leaving."
"Go ahead, leave. I'm just asking a question, god forbid." Shut up! Don’t do this again. Tell her you're sorry, you stupid prick, tell her you love her, like you rehearsed!
"Yes, god forbid you try and talk to me after you told me last night I was a useless fucktoy, Brian."
The room fills with the same old silence again, and you roll your eyes. You should have known nothing would change. He sits down, and watches you pack. He watches you put everything in your bag, everything he'd committed to memory over the past 7 years... stuff of yours that had become stuff of his too. It was so strange, seeing everything hidden away in the flaps of your duffel bag.
He isn't numb anymore. He's in pain, and he knows you are too, because of him. That's not fair, and if his ambition proved anything, it was his capability to unfuck things that were not meant to get fucked in the first place.
"I miss laughing."
"What?" you demand.
"I miss laughing," he repeats. "I haven't smiled properly in a year. I'm depressed, sure, but who isn't? It isn't an excuse. Sometimes I wonder if there is a hypocritical, horrible, sick bastard of a god watching me. Sometimes I wonder if he would laugh at me if I prayed to him."
"Yeah. Well. I pray sometimes, to whatever the hell's out there. Sometimes I pray my life was just a dream," you say, and he looks at you.
"(y/n). I love you so damn much."
You suck in a breath. If you turn around and look at him, you'll be lost again. But like any good drug, you just can't resist.
Turning around, you walk over to him. Sighing, you sit in his lap, moving your legs over the arm of the chair so that you're draped over him. You two sit like that for a bit, neither one of you willing to be the first one to make physical contact. You're both too stubborn. Eventually, you know you're going to have to be the one to do it. You know he's already hugged you a billion times in his mind in the last minute, and he's punishing himself more than you ever could.
"You're still an asshole," you whisper.
"I'll always be an asshole," he mutters back, "It's in my DNA. I can't change that." I can be less of an asshole to the people who love me. I promise. His eyes seem to say it, and you understand. You take his hand, which allows him to subsequently pull you in and cradle you.
"Yeah. Just don't forget who was there for this asshole's first show."
"Mmm."
"You dedicated Lucy In The Sky With Demons to me."
"Yeah. I remember."
"Listen. I love you too. I don't wanna leave. Okay? So I'm not going to."
He buries his face into your neck, and you let him release anything he's been feeling since last night, anything he's been repressing. You rub his back gently, and he squeezes you tighter as he chokes out your name, shaking violently with every sob.
"I know, Bri. I know. I'm here."
A few minutes go by. He wipes his face, and it starts to rain outside. You glance out the window. "Guess I'm really not leaving tonight."
He hums. "You want mac and cheese?"
"Uhhh, is that even a question?"
You roll off him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and walks over to the kitchen to root around in the cupboard. You lay on your back again in starfish position, staring at the mildewy ceiling of this crappy old house.
"I lit Jeordie's shoe on fire today!" your boyfriend calls out to you, "Nearly burned Trent's house down. Would've been an improvement, it's an ugly fucking house and sad excuse for a studio. You should see it. That jerk-off should pay me to burn it down, swear to the holy old bastard in the sky." You giggle into a pillow.
There's your antichrist.
#marilyn manson#marilyn manson x reader#reader x marilyn manson#brian warner#brian warner x reader#reader x brian warner#brian hugh warner#bandom#marilyn manson fan#marilyn manson fandom#mansonite#marilyn manson fanfiction#antichrist superstar#antichrist superstar era#smells like children#portrait of an american family#spooky kids#marilyn manson and the spooky kids#tourniquet#angst#smut#trent reznor#nin#1997#twiggy ramirez#daisy berkowitz#madonna wayne gacy#jeordie white#long hard road out of hell#marilyn manson imagine
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